Episode Thirty-Five
By the time I noticed, it was morning. I barely remember how I even got home last night. Going to school with a feeling like this wouldn’t accomplish anything. I don’t want to see Ao. I don’t want to see Fuuka either. I just want to stay shut up in this small room forever.
I wonder if Ao told Dad and Shiho-san what happened yesterday. If she did, the family is probably over. Ao and I surely won’t be able to live together anymore.
The happy home the two of them built — my own selfish desire is the thing that broke it. The thought alone brought on nausea I couldn’t stop, and I ran for the bathroom. Pathetically, nothing came up at all. Ao must be the one suffering most, and yet here I am, playing the victim, suffering all alone — it’s almost funny how pitiful that is.
Even in a state like this, the habits I’ve built up apparently don’t just disappear. I made lunches for four, and quietly opened the front door so as not to wake anyone.
I traced the route to school taking several times longer than usual. Reaching the station nearest school, the scene from yesterday flashed through my mind and I ran for the bathroom again. Here too, only tears and choked sobs came out — nothing else.
I made vague small talk with the teachers, surprised to see me arrive this early, and unlocked the student council room. I drifted unsteadily into the classroom and quietly locked the door behind me. I threw my backpack onto the long desk and buried my face against it, slumped forward. Morning practice for the sports clubs and the brass band hadn’t started yet. In the silent school building, only the sound of my own quiet sobbing spread through the empty room.
A whole night had passed since then, and there was no way I’d managed to sort my feelings out. Why did I do something like that, that day.
I’d meant to tell her how I felt. Sisters, family — I no longer had room to think about any of that. I was going to say, simply, that I liked her. I had no idea how Ao would answer, but if I was turned down, I’d apologise right there and never direct these twisted feelings at her again. I was prepared to give everything up and live the rest of my life as nothing more than Ao’s older stepsister.
And yet what I actually did was force my feelings onto her, one-sidedly, like that. That wasn’t a confession at all. It was nothing but pushing my own desire onto her.
The distant sound of brass instruments drifted faintly into my ears. I wished they’d stay quiet. None of them understand how I feel, and they never will.
I tapped the desk lightly and closed my eyes again.
Ao thinks of me as someone special too. Even while telling myself I couldn’t know her feelings, some part of me had believed that anyway. She’s the one who invited me to the festival. She went out of her way to surprise me in a yukata. None of that is ordinary.
So if I’d only told her properly… maybe right now the two of us would be walking to school together, side by side.
The worst. I really am the worst.
Studying only to keep my scholarship, cooking only for Dad’s sake — living on and on without a will of my own, and then a miracle fell from the sky along with the cherry blossoms. I got to become family with a classmate I’d admired for so long. Before that I’d been satisfied with nothing more than a passing greeting, a moment’s eye contact.
I must have gotten too close to something I only ever admired from afar. In an environment where reaching out could actually touch it, I learned a feeling I was never supposed to know. So I broke.
The tears kept spilling with no sign of stopping. I cried all through the night, cried again this morning while making the lunches, and I’m still crying now. Maybe the tears are close to running dry.
This isn’t the same as the fight we had before. I know perfectly well this isn’t something that can be smoothed over with a simple reconciliation.
Maybe I should just leave home. I could borrow money from Dad and pay it back little by little. If I explained properly, he’d surely understand. I have no right to remain inside the happy world Dad and Shiho-san managed to build.
I heard the warning bell and slowly lifted my face. I’d thought I arrived plenty early, and yet school was already about to start. I don’t want to go to the classroom. There are people there I don’t want to see.
But I don’t want to skip either. Why not — I don’t know.
I forced my heavy body up and let out a breath. Going to the classroom terrifies me. Swaying slightly, side to side, I made my slow way down the long corridor.
The moment I opened the door, it felt like every eye in the classroom turned toward me. Probably because I’d never once come in this close to being late before. Or maybe because of the dead look on my face.
I exchanged no words with anyone, drifted unsteadily to my seat, and lowered my face. I don’t want to lift it. Because if I do, I know I’ll go looking for Ao.
“Tsukishima? Feeling unwell? Go to the nurse’s office if it’s rough.”
An adult’s voice. I don’t know or care whether I’m feeling well or not.
“…I’m fine.”
My own voice startled me. Hoarse, far lower than usual. Maybe it suited the zombie-like face I must be wearing right now.
“Really? Exams are close, but your health matters more.”
Deciding it was better not to push further, my homeroom teacher moved on to some other topic.
I don’t remember what was taught all morning. I kept my face up and appeared to be listening, but none of it went in. I’d already done the preview reading, and I’d review it again later. Right now, not listening wouldn’t cause any real problem.
“Right then, this part. Tsukishima-san, can you answer?”
“I don’t know.”
I said it the instant the teacher finished speaking and dropped my eyes to my notebook.
“O— oh. That’s unusual. Well then—”
Lunch was almost here. I’d brought a lunchbox, but I had no appetite at all. If I ate anything right now, I think I really would throw it up.
The classroom, quiet until then, burst into noise the moment the chime rang. I watched classmates scattering in every direction and was starting to rise from my seat when a hand seized my arm hard from behind.
“…That hurts.”
“Rooftop. Today. Come with me.”
Whether she was angry, or hiding something else entirely, I couldn’t tell. Fuuka, wearing an unusually serious expression, dragged me firmly up a staircase we never normally use.