Episode 33: I Think I’m an Idiot

I never really intended to enjoy myself today.

I only came along with Endo-san.

I’m not keen on summer festivals.

Seeing families having fun together makes me remember my own family when I was little, and it hurts.

　I arrived at the park early, even before the agreed meeting time.
I just couldn’t stand being at home.

Endo-san has loads of friends, so why on earth would she want to go to a festival with me? I couldn’t stop dwelling on such trivial things.

“Takizawa, you’re already here?”
I heard Endo-san’s voice.

I looked up to see Endo-san standing there in her yukata.

　The peony pattern on her yukata was beautiful and suited her perfectly. I think the flower’s meaning is ‘sincerity’ – even that seemed to fit Endo-san perfectly.

She looked so beautiful that even such a lovely yukata seemed to pale in comparison.

If I could say such things honestly, perhaps I’d be better at socialising, like my sister or Endo-san.

　Without offering Endo-san any particular praise, we headed towards the summer festival.

It really is crowded… Sometimes I dislike myself for feeling exhausted just from seeing so many people.

I was lost in such thoughts, but Endo-san beside me seemed quite different. Whether eating yakisoba and takoyaki or explaining the stalls to me, she always looked genuinely happy.

If only she could always wear that smile.

　I was glad to see Endo-san enjoying herself today. As I looked at the stalls too, my eyes met a stuffed toy that resembled her.

The stuffed toy, with its earnest-looking face, didn’t look away from me. Being a stuffed toy, it was bound to keep making eye contact as long as I didn’t look away.

　I hadn’t wanted it; we’d merely made eye contact.

Yet, Endo-san asked me, “Do you want it?”

I don’t.

Things received from others are like curses.

The things my sister gave me still remind me of that time and torment me. They make me compare the happy times with the present, where I can’t return to them. That’s why I dislike asking anyone for things I want, and I dislike receiving things too.

　Contrary to my feelings, Endo-san arbitrarily took aim with the shooting gallery gun. She lifted her beautiful yukata, revealing her slender, lovely arm. Even the sight of her holding a toy gun is unfairly beautiful.

Bang.

The Labrador stuffed toy, which had been meeting my gaze, rolled to the floor.

Endo-san forcibly placed the prize she’d taken without asking into my hand.

　That Labrador plushie stared back at me from my hand. It looked straight at me, just like when Endo-san looks at me, and I couldn’t help but feel unsettled.

When I said I didn’t want it, she told me to throw it away if I didn’t want it. How could I possibly throw it away when it looked at me so directly? Yet Endo-san said such a mean thing.

I tucked it deep inside my bag so it wouldn’t fall out.

　Endo-san has been acting strangely since earlier.

She seemed cheerful just moments ago, but now her expression is grim.

I’d been looking down the whole time, so perhaps her face had been grim for longer, but I only noticed it now.

Glancing down at her feet, I saw Endo-san’s feet were red.

Haa… So that’s the reason.

　I didn’t want to see Endo-san’s pained expression for any reason other than mine. For once, I was glad I’d kept my head down.

In crowded places it would stand out, so I took Endo-san somewhere quieter. If I’d said I was going to buy a plaster, she’d probably put on that fake smile again and insist she was fine. Today, I didn’t want to see Endo-san’s fake smile.

Today, for once, Endo-san had been completely herself from the start. Just for today, I wanted her to stay natural.

So I ran without saying a word.
It’s a bit out of the way, so the nearest convenience store is far off.
I arrived at what must be the closest one, dashed around the small shop, hurriedly bought what I needed, and rushed back.

When I hurried back, Endo-san was crying.

Why…?

I think Endo-san is a fool.

If it hurts that much, she shouldn’t push herself.
She shouldn’t feel she has to keep up with others.

　She always seems to be enduring things.

For now, tending to Endo-san comes first.

When she asked why, or something like that, I gave a vague answer.
Even if asked why, I don’t really know.
My body just moved naturally.

Where the sandal strap had rubbed, the skin was peeled and bleeding. Enduring it until it got this bad was truly stupid.

　Stupid, yes, but surely she had her reasons for wanting to enjoy the festival even at that cost.

I touched her foot gently, as if to wrap it in care.
The reddened spot was soaked in disinfectant, turning even redder. A clumsily applied plaster covered her reddened skin.

I knew if I didn’t take her home, she’d push herself again.
Though I’m not particularly strong, I decided to carry Endo-san home on my back.

　When I was little, I fell over in the park and my older sister carried me home on her back.

Even though she was barely taller than me and my weight must have been a struggle, she encouraged me with a smile, saying, “It’s nearly there, just bear with the pain a little longer.”

The little me back then probably didn’t think about my sister at all, just kept crying, “It hurts, it hurts!”

It’s not that I want to be like my sister.

　It’s just that, having avoided human contact for so long, I don’t know what the right thing to do is in situations like this.
But my sister from back then serves as a guidepost for times like this. I’ve convinced myself that if I just copy her, I can’t go too far wrong.

Endo-san isn’t heavy, but she’s not exactly light either.
She tried to chat with me along the way, but I was so dazed from the heat I don’t remember much of the conversation.

　It was a right mess – I was drenched in sweat, Endo-san looked sad – but seeing her looking so beautiful and the stuffed toy made me think it was worth it.

That settles our debts.

When we reached Endo-san’s house, it was pitch black.

When I got hurt, my sister was there to comfort me.

Endo-san is alone.

It’s not my place to worry, but I can understand the pain.

　When I reached Endo-san’s house, I noticed my vision was starting to blur.

I need to get home quickly—

Just as I thought Endo-san had gone silent, something soft touched my lips, and before me stood a blurred figure of Endo-san. It wasn’t exactly a painful expression, but it wasn’t a happy one either.

I pushed her away sharply.

She started saying something about thanks again, so I replied that it wasn’t necessary and left while I still had my wits about me.

　On the way home, I bumped into my sister. She immediately noticed I wasn’t well and carried me on her back.

The comfort and reassurance of my sister’s back felt exactly the same as it always had.