Episode 5

My whole idea of what a planetarium could be has changed. That’s the only way I can describe it.

A sky full of stars in every direction. Music that drew you all the way into the world of it. And Seriha’s hand in mine — which, all right, isn’t technically part of the programme. But everything, taken together, was moving.

“That was incredible! Parts of it went over my head a little, but even just the atmosphere was more than enough to enjoy.”

“Yeah. I could have stayed so much longer.”

The show ends in under an hour, and we leave the planetarium carrying a wistfulness neither of us quite shakes off.

“They have other programmes too, apparently. Let’s come back.”

What we saw was a programme introducing the constellations behind the Summer Triangle. There were others on offer — one focused on music and starscapes, another done in collaboration with an anime — and the whole thing had been put together with real care.

“Of course! I was so happy seeing senpai enjoying herself. What a relief.”

The pressure in her grip relaxes. There’s emotion she can’t show in her face that comes through in her hand, and I’m glad I can know it.

“It felt a bit like being a child again. Like the first time my mum took me to the cinema — I think that’s the kind of feeling it was.”

“Senpai, your face was so soft the whole time, I kept thinking — she’s really, genuinely happy. I love the poised version of you, but I love this version too — the one who just feels things without hiding it.”

The casual warmth of it stirs up my chest. I was watching the stars on the ceiling the entire time — and she was watching me.

“The date is entering its final stretch, and I’m not ready…” She makes an exaggerated weeping face, and I coax her out of it as we walk slowly toward the station. The hand that was free on the way here is in hers now, and it feels exactly right.

The sun is gradually easing down and the heat has become more forgiving.

Our relationship is about to change, in some significant way. Whether it happens before the sun fully sets or after, I can’t say.

I tightened my hold on her hand, not wanting to let go.

◇

Twenty minutes by train, and we arrive at a station presided over by a large baseball stadium.

“We still have time before dinner, so shall we stop for tea?”

“Sure. I have to admit I’m a little tired.”

Tea time has technically passed, but it’s a Saturday, and every café near the station is full with no sign of turning over. We end up deciding to get takeaway and find somewhere to sit outside.

At the foot of the big stadium there’s a small amusement park, busy enough even at this hour. We wander around, cups in hand, looking for a place to rest, and eventually find one: a two-person bench in front of a slightly worn merry-go-round.

“Finally. I’m sorry — I didn’t think it would be this crowded.”

I stop her from bowing her head and lower myself onto the bench. The tiredness hits me all at once now that I’m sitting.

“Can’t be helped. I’m glad we found somewhere.”

I bring my cup to my lips. I’d gone back and forth, but today I ordered coffee. Maybe I wanted to feel a little different from usual.

“So tired. Are you okay, senpai?”

“Tired, but fine. I wore sensible shoes.”

I gesture down at my sandals and smile. I’d wanted to wear something with a higher heel, but I chose the practical pair for all the walking, and it was the right call.

“I should have warned you there would be a lot of walking beforehand — sensible of you to figure it out, but still, I should have said. I’ll remember that.”

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

Lunch reserved, planetarium reserved, dinner reserved, a schedule executed to perfection. And she’s still finding things to be dissatisfied about.

“You don’t need to be so careful with me.”

I send the words toward the sky, watching the sunset as I speak.

“Today has been wonderful all the way through. It’s not over yet, but I don’t want it to end. I’m already feeling that.”

“Thank you for thinking of everything.”

I glance sideways at her, and there it is: a soft, slightly bashful smile. With the sunset behind her, she looks even more like something painted.

“Sorry. I might cry a little.”

Her large eyes are brimming, right on the edge. The me reflected in her eyes wears the same expression.

“Go ahead and cry. You’re still cute when you’re crying — it’s annoying, honestly.”

The bitterness of the coffee seeps all the way through me. I’m not used to the taste and my face almost shows it, but today this feels like the right drink for this.

She’s been smiling at me since the moment we met this morning, but since we sat down here, Seriha has been wearing something different — a thin veil of wistfulness. Something that speaks of bracing herself. I can feel it even if I can’t name it.

“Time goes by so quickly, doesn’t it. I wish the days were longer.”

Her eyes, which usually hold mine, are drifting between her cup and somewhere in the distance.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

The sky that was solid blue is now painted in orange. The children who had been filling the air with noise are slowly heading home, and even the merry-go-round in the distance looks lonelier than it did.

Its mechanism fills the silence between us.

“This day — I was genuinely looking forward to it. Probably more than you imagined.”

“You’re saying such lovely things.”

She laughs, a little self-conscious. I keep going.

“I spent so long agonising over what to wear. I spent more time on my makeup than I ever usually do.”

“I kept imagining where you’d take me, what side of you I’d get to see, and it kept me from sleeping. I was restless, and I wanted to talk to you before the date, and you wouldn’t humour me at all —”

I let a bit of a sulk into my voice and say the things I’ve been sitting on.

“That was a deliberate delay tactic. I wanted to talk to you too, but I held back.”

“No more delay tactics. I was lonely the whole time.”

I reach over and gently take her hand where it rests on the bench. She startles, which I almost find funny — the usually unflappable Seriha, caught off guard.

“I’m a much more high-maintenance woman than you think.”

I’ve been turning over how to begin this for a while, and I think now is the moment. Everything I’d planned to say has left my head. But even without a script — for the things I’ve been wanting to say. That I need to say.

“I spent years wallowing in the fallout from one ordinary heartbreak. I threw myself too hard into work. My flat is full of stuffed animals I can’t bring myself to get rid of.”

“I’m not built like you. I’m not beautiful like you.”

She might look at me and I might lose my nerve, so I keep my eyes on the merry-go-round. Around and around it goes — starts, stops, starts again — carrying its riders in circles.

“Even so —”

“Will you still want me?”

What expression do I have right now? What tone of voice is carrying these words to her?

Her hand tightens around mine. Warmth and strength. Feeling her alive in my grip.

“…As if there were any other answer. If I didn’t love you — I wouldn’t be crying like this. I wouldn’t be smiling like this, so happy it hurts.”

Laughing while crying. I think I’ve seen that face before.

“Is that right.”

The cup in my hands is trembling. I breathe in, try to find steadiness, but it won’t come.

It’s all right. We’ll be all right. I know we will.

“Seriha.”

“Please go out with me — with Takemi Hiito.”

“I mean it. The real kind.”

I will never forget this moment — the tears that had just begun to quiet down swelling suddenly back, larger than before.