Episode 143: New Year’s (1)

If I went to the bathroom, she was reflected in the mirror.

If I went to the living room and turned around, she was in my line of sight.

If I stood in the kitchen, she was in the corner of my eye.

“Endo-san, what are you doing.”
“I’m just wondering if you’re really not going back home.”
“I said I’m not going back.”

Today Endo-san followed me wherever I went. Like a puppy afraid of being abandoned.

And the fact that I found her cute for it — I was the one in worse shape.
We might both need to go to the hospital.

“I’m going shopping.”
“I’ll come.”
“Endo-san, wait at home.”
“I want to pick out the New Year’s soba together…”

The voice she used when she wanted to be a little coaxing.
I lost to her crafty ways and went outside with her.

The town was in year-end mode, with many shops closed. We headed to the nearby shopping street to find this year’s New Year’s soba.

Since earlier, my hand had been taken by her. The moment we stepped outside, Endo-san had captured it — and inside Endo-san’s coat pocket, my hand and hers were pressed together.

It was hard to move and hard to walk — but this warmth wasn’t something I disliked. It was cold, so I thought it felt comfortable.

“There’s green onion and meat for the soba at home, so if we just buy the soba we should be fine today.”
“I’ll boil the soba again this year.”

At that, Endo-san’s eyes went wide and she looked over at me. Her mouth hung open and little clouds of white breath escaped.

“We really are lovey-dovey, aren’t we.”
“What’s this suddenly?”

Endo-san always says embarrassing things like that so easily. I didn’t think I’d ever get used to saying things like that, and I didn’t need to.

Or so I thought — and yet I was always the one receiving warmth from her, so I sometimes panicked at the thought that I should give something back.

The town had none of its usual energy, and even though there were few people out, I felt somehow observed — and buried my face in my scarf.

In complete contrast to me, Endo-san was looking happy throughout. Around her I could practically see the word skip written in the air. I had no idea what was making her smile so much.

I’ve become quite used to these streets, and found myself thinking soberly about how the town looks in winter.

When winter passed, spring would come again.

When spring came, it would be a year since Endo-san and I had started living together. The speed at which time was passing left me genuinely surprised.

Since I began spending time with Endo-san, it was as though something in me that had stopped moving began turning again — time flew by. I almost felt a faint loneliness at how quickly the months were passing.

“Endo-san, do you have some kind of magic that fast-forwards time?”
“What? Takisawa, you say inexplicable things sometimes.”

Endo-san said it in a completely serious tone, and a small laugh escaped me.

She was right.

When did I become such a strange person. A strange me, right here beside Endo-san.

“Takisawa smiles more now, doesn’t she.”
“Do I?”
“Yeah. I’m happy.”
“That’s thanks to you, Endo-san…”
“What?”

As expected, saying things like that so casually was still very hard. My voice went small and mumbling, which only made it more embarrassing.

To cover the embarrassment, I leaned slightly into Endo-san as we walked.

Among the shops lining the shopping street, a small, cozy soba restaurant that was hard to spot was open caught my eye. Apparently what was reflected in Endo-san’s eyes was the same as what was reflected in mine.

Whether because we’d been living together for so long, or because I’d been making the effort to understand her — I didn’t know the reason — but there were more and more moments when I could sense from Endo-san’s actions and expressions what she probably wanted.

There was so much that even words couldn’t make clear — but I found myself wanting to believe that with Endo-san, things that didn’t need words were growing between us.

“Shall we go here?”
“Takisawa, you’re not just going along with what I want, are you?”
“I thought this place looked good.”

I wasn’t the type to go out of my way for someone else — and yet being made to feel that way by her words, mine came out a little sharper than intended.
I pulled her arm firmly enough to be slightly painful and went inside the soba restaurant.

A surprisingly young woman rushed over saying welcome. A very refined-looking proprietress.

“We’d like to buy New Year’s soba…”
“Of course! Two portions?”
“Yes.”

When the conversation ended there, I realised I’d been holding Endo-san’s hand throughout.
Why did I take such a bold action without thinking, I wondered with some regret.

Endo-san, at times exactly like this, said nothing.

After that we received the soba from the cheerful proprietress and paid.

When we stepped outside, the warmth of the soba shop hit the cold and my body shivered.
The hand that wasn’t holding the bag of soba was captured by Endo-san when she came running over.

The situation outside was no different from before — but something was off about Endo-san.
Just as I was about to ask what was wrong, she cut in first.

“The woman at the soba shop was beautiful, wasn’t she.”
“Yeah.”
“…Does Takisawa have a type? In terms of looks?”
“A type?”
“Yeah. Like a favourite celebrity.”
“Hmm.”

I’d had no interest in people and never paid much attention to others’ faces — so answering Endo-san’s question felt very hard.

I could think that’s a refined face or they’re beautiful — but a face I liked? Nothing came to mind.

Oh…

There was one person who stirred feelings I’d never felt with anyone else. Just looking at her face made me feel energised, made me want to try hard — and sometimes made my chest hurt.

“I like your face, Endo-san.”
“Waah?”

A sound I’d never heard from her before — something almost less than human, more like some kind of creature.

Endo-san went quiet again.
Well — she was saying something, but only in little murmurs I couldn’t make out.

“Takisawa really does rack up crimes without even trying.”
“Crimes…? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“One day you’ll be arrested.”
“Pardon?”

Just a moment ago, Endo-san had said I was the one who said inexplicable things — but lately I thought it was her who was saying more inexplicable things.

In the end, there was no more conversation until we got home.

Silence — and yet for some reason this time with Endo-san felt comfortable.