Episode 11

Button by button, I fastened them closed, and drew my necktie snug as I did every morning. The area around my throat felt tight; I kept breathing, expanding my chest. Without thinking, my fingers drifted to my neck.

When I swallowed, my throat moved up and down with an audible gulp.

Healthy as ever, unfortunately.

I left the house in low spirits.

The walk to school isn’t far.
I arrived at an hour when the campus was still quiet, letting myself be absorbed through the school gate.

I changed my shoes at the entrance hall, then headed first to the student council room — airless as always. I’d come as early as anyone possibly could, or so I thought, but someone had beaten me there.

“Nanoha, good morning.”
“Morning.”

Yudzuki had a reference book spread open on the desk.
Her routine: study here before club, go to volleyball morning practice, then sit through classes.

Yudzuki is clever enough to top every ranking at this school without even trying. The gap between her — first place — and me — second — is that obvious.

A genius who also puts in the effort. There’s no way an ordinary person like me can compete.

I sat down across from her and spread out my own books. Two pencils scratching softly across two notebooks.

Yudzuki studied with complete indifference to me sitting right in front of her.

“Phew. I’d better get to practice.”
“See you.”
“Student council after school today — I’m counting on you.”
“Mm.”

She clattered out of the room.

Only after she was gone could I finally take a deep breath. Even so, breathing didn’t make me feel alive. My eyes fixed on a single point in my notebook and refused to move.

The necktie I’d cinched tight a moment ago was choking me. My hands moved toward it automatically, the way Morishita’s hands would loosen it for me.

I caught myself and dropped my hands from my collar.

Morishita Mei.

What a strange person, I keep thinking.

The other day, I kissed her. I don’t even know why I did it.

I know it was terrible of me — but the moment our lips met, my heart moved more violently than I’d ever felt, and I understood, properly, that I was a living human being with blood coursing through me.

When I’m with her, I can recognize that I actually exist in this world. But I had used Morishita to reach that recognition, and so a rift opened between us almost immediately, and repairing it took work.

I’d gone to the shrine park every day, waited until my body turned cold, then gone home without her — and kept doing it — but that turned out to be the right thing to do.

I hadn’t expected her to actually come.
And I certainly hadn’t expected her to stay the night.

I slept with someone else in the apartment for the first time in a long while.
I was so happy my heart raced and I couldn’t fall asleep.

When I woke up in the morning, she was gone from the bed — only a note left behind: Thank you for having me.

Very Morishita.

After that, she stopped coming to the park.

Maybe she’d finished all the manga she’d wanted to read. Maybe her tantrums had stopped. I didn’t know the reason, but my connection with her had thinned again.

I have her contact details. I could just message her. But what would I even say?

I’d been spending the last few days going around in circles over exactly that.

On top of everything, there’s a sports tournament this weekend, and I need to get through that without incident too — too many things to think about…

School is suffocating.

I put my hand to my collar again, halfway to loosening the necktie, then stopped.

I am the vice president.
I must not disturb the school’s order.

And with exams coming up, I need to keep myself disciplined, I told myself firmly.

Then my phone chimed with a message.

‘Want to read manga today’.

I replied in under a second.

‘Walk home with me then. I’ll wait at the school gate’.
‘No. I’m going to Fujishiro’s house’.

She refused me without a second thought. She goes out of her way to avoid my involvement. I think anyone would feel hurt, being turned away that obviously. Still — just knowing she was coming to the apartment today was enough.

I drifted through the rest of my classes in a hazy, buoyant mood.

※※※

The presumptuous houseguest was sprawled on my bed again today, as if nothing at all had happened between us.

I can’t read Morishita at all.

With most people, I have a rough sense of what makes them happy and what makes them uncomfortable. But Morishita is so opaque — I have no idea what will annoy her or please her.

Things I do with the best of intentions backfire constantly. For example:

“Morishita, is there anything you’d like to drink?”
“Nothing. Don’t bother.”
“I just want to offer a guest something when they come over.”
“I’m only here to read manga.”

She said that without looking up from the page.

It’s fine for her to remain neither closer nor further away than she is now, but my desire to get to know her just keeps growing.

On the other hand, Morishita was steadily accumulating information about me.

Nobody but Morishita knows that I love manga enough to collect every volume of a series. That’s because at school I’m always performing the role of the perfect vice president.

I’d given her far too much — enough that if Morishita ever decided to talk, my standing at school could be finished. It was too late to worry about it now, but the truth was I wanted something on her too. Some kind of weakness I could hold.

“Morishita, are you interested in romance?”
“Somewhat.”
“Really?!”
“Lie.”
“Figured…”

Morishita seemed to have no interest in romance — or in anything, really.

I quietly lay down beside her on the bed and leaned over to peek at which scene she was reading. She snapped the manga shut immediately.

“What?”
“Hiding it that fast — were you reading something incriminating?”

I poked at her cheek, and Morishita made a face of such profound displeasure that I almost laughed, swatting my hand away.

“I was reading it and thinking how stupid it was.”
“Then you didn’t need to hide it.”
“I closed it because I figured Fujishiro would make fun of me no matter what scene she caught me on.”
“Fair point.”

I was bored of studying anyway, and this felt like exactly the right moment to pester Morishita.

I want to get closer to her, but she won’t let me into her territory. I resent that. At the same time, I think perhaps this distance between us is actually fine.

Morishita — looking vaguely disgruntled — opened her mouth.

“— Why did you kiss me, Fujishiro?”

The question came from a direction I hadn’t anticipated, and I think my composure slipped, which is unusual for me. Surprise and panic mixed together as my heart beat unevenly.

Do I answer honestly, or deflect with something untrue?

“You won’t be put off if I tell you the real reason?”
“Depends on the answer.”
“You really are mean, Morishita. Then I won’t tell you.”
“Come on, tell me.”

At some point she’d rolled over to face me, reading while lying down. Eyes without light, fixed directly on mine.

When Morishita’s eyes find mine like that, I feel like I’ve done something wrong — even when I haven’t.

I broke under the guilt and confessed.

“I’m looking for things that make me feel like I’m alive—”
“What?”
“Like I said before — I thought if I kissed someone, I might be able to feel my own heartbeat.”
“You kissed me just to test that?”
“I’m sorry.”

There was nothing else I could say.

She must think I’m completely unhinged.
Actually — if Morishita happened to be running a voice recorder right now and played this back at school, my life would be over.

“Fujishiro, you really are out of your mind.”
“So I’ve been told.”

I really am strange.
I’ve felt this way ever since I was born.
I kept trying to forcefully paint over it with different colours. I’ve covered the canvas with so many different colours so many times that I no longer know which one was my true colour.

At first, I tried hard to make this colour my own, but once I grew tired of trying, the once colourful scenery turned monochrome.

Always black and white.

That’s why I started to think: without seeking out some kind of stimulus, there might be no reason to be alive at all.

While I was thinking all of this, Morishita had already gone back to her manga.

She turned her back toward me, making sure I couldn’t see which page she was on.
I don’t know what specifically about that sight comforted me — but apparently I just fell asleep there on the bed.

When I woke up, a blanket had been tucked over me, and a note read: Thanks for the manga.

Very Morishita. Still, as always, black and white.