Episode 25

Standing in front of the mirror, my mood sank further with every second.

“I can’t go to school…”

I splashed water gently on my face and dried it.

Maybe I could wash it away, I’d thought — but that was a thin hope, apparently.

A bruise had spread from my right temple up across my eyelid, blue and vivid.

“Haah… at least do it somewhere that doesn’t show.”

I complained to nobody, then collapsed onto the bed.

My mother’s mood yesterday had been at its absolute worst.
I was the one who’d caused it.

We’d started talking about exams, and I’d told her that my grades had genuinely gone up.

Thinking that thanks to Nanoha my scores had improved and I’d become a little more what my mother wanted.

But the next thing I knew there was a thud against my head. Less pain than heat — the spot where it had struck was unbelievably hot.

You have nothing. You’re not special. You’re below ordinary. That’s why you only get to live a life like this.

After that I don’t remember much, only that the heat became a dull throbbing ache.

My heart hurt, I couldn’t stop shaking, and I couldn’t fight back.

What a coward I am.

There’s no point going over yesterday.

In the darkened room my phone screen was blindingly bright. I sent Ran a message — won’t be at school for a while — and closed the screen.

Days and days alone in this flat. The worst.
At least zoning out at school would be better than this.

Times like this were exactly when I used to wish I had manga to read.
No money for that, so I’d given up on it long ago.

Which was probably why I’d leaned on Nanoha too much.

Thinking back now, having someone come over, read your manga, and leave, over and over — of course that would be annoying.

It’s been nearly a month since the argument with Nanoha, and we haven’t spoken. We weren’t particularly close friends to begin with, so I’d just gone back to the life I had before.

But I had regrets about how I’d spoken. I could have thought more carefully before opening my mouth.

I kept picking up my phone to send some kind of thanks for everything up until now, then putting it back down again.

Having someone’s contact details in your phone, I thought, doesn’t mean anything at all.

I’d been lost in thought for what felt like a long time, but barely thirty minutes had passed. Surprising.

What to do.
Going outside was difficult with a bruise somewhere I couldn’t hide, in case people who saw me got worried and made things complicated.

At least put it somewhere that doesn’t show.

Sighing was all that came out, and I was hungry, so I decided to sleep.

When I closed my eyes I arrived in a soft, drifting place.

This was a dream I often had.

I don’t remember my father’s face, but the memory of the three of us, my mother and father and me, playing at a park when I was small — that has stayed.

Maybe that happy memory was what kept pulling at my feet, because I often dreamed of that time.

The same dream, every time.

So many times the same that I’d started to wonder if it was a dream I was manufacturing myself.

What is happiness?

Things like fun, or joy, I didn’t feel much.

Reading manga was enjoyable, of course.
But whether it was enough to call proper happiness — I wasn’t sure.

I wanted to know the feeling of being wrapped in happiness, like you see in manga.

Ding-dong.

The intercom pulled me back from the dream into reality.

I rubbed my eyes and checked my phone — five in the evening.
I’d slept solidly.

With the curtains drawn the whole time I couldn’t tell if it was light or dark outside.

Ding-dong.

The intercom rang again. I ignored it.
It was cold. I didn’t want to go outside right now.

Ding-dong.

Persistent.

Were delivery people always this persistent?
Please just go home.
I don’t want to leave this duvet.

Ding-dong.

Oh, enough already.

I’d had it, so I pushed the door open hard.

The force sent it slamming straight into whoever was standing on the other side.

I panicked — oh no — and was about to apologise, but when I saw who was there my voice dried up.

Why…?

I turned it over as fast as I could but could not make sense of Nanoha standing in front of me.

She was looking at me with a startled expression.

And then I remembered something important.

My face right now was not one that should be seen by anyone.

Falling half-asleep and answering the intercom had been a mistake. I should have checked through the peephole first.

I moved to close the door quickly, but her pale, slender fingers slipped into the gap, and thinking they’d get caught, I hesitated.

Though that wasn’t the point — so I tried to close it anyway, fingers and all.

I thought if it pinched her she’d let go. But apparently I’d underestimated her.

The door was definitely catching her fingers, turning them red, and she still wouldn’t move them. It looked painful enough that I couldn’t bring myself to make it worse, and I let go of the handle.

The door swung open and she stepped straight into the entryway without asking.

The latch clicked shut. Just the two of us in the entrance hall.

I was standing on the bare entrance floor in bare feet, and my feet were cold. Without any particular explanation Nanoha pushed me gently further inside and came on in.

“I’ll report you for trespassing.”
“Morishita…”

She looked at me with the saddest expression. I didn’t want that — that face that said I feel sorry for you.

I pinched her cheek.

It went as red as the fingers she’d caught in the door. But no matter how hard I pinched, she didn’t say that hurts the way she usually would. She just looked straight at me.

“Come to my place. Now.”
“Excuse me? You’re the one who told me not to come over.”
“I never said any such thing. You decided I meant that all on your own.”
“But I must have been a nuisance…”

Nanoha ignored what I was saying and reached toward my right temple.

A flash of yesterday came back and my body flinched, drawing back.

But what touched my temple was something soft and faintly cool — her cold hand, moving gently against the spot.
The sensation felt wrong somehow, and I brushed her hand away.

“Don’t do strange things.”
“We’re going to my place.”

She gripped my arm and pulled.

“Why do I have to go?”
“Because I want you there. And if you won’t come, I’ll tell the police about this.”

My heart pounded hard at that.

What should I do? The police?
Anything but that.

“I’ll come. Just don’t do that.”
“Then let’s go.”

I gave in, reluctantly, and nodded.

I wrapped a scarf and pulled a hat down to hide as much of my face as possible, and went out into the cold.