Episode 20

“Why were you here, Morishita?”
“It doesn’t matter where I am.”
“You really are cold. Colder than the temperature outside.”
“Shut up.”

Nanoha was complaining, but there was something pleased about her all the same.

“Hey, hey. What’s this?”

She poked at the convenience store bag.
The fact that she’d noticed made me panic slightly, and I moved the fried chicken I’d bought behind my back.

“I was hungry, so I bought it.”
“It’s been ages since you bought it, so it’s probably cold by now. Besides — there are two in there.”

Nanoha really is tactless, I thought.
She goes straight for exactly the part I least want touched. What an idiot.

I tried to think of a reason, but nothing came.

“I was going to eat both.”
“Greedy.”
“Shut up.”

Irritated, I reached out and grabbed her cheek with a pinching pull. My hand must have been very cold — and even so, her cheek felt colder still against my fingers.

I was pulling her cheek hard, and yet she just kept talking with her nose gone red and her smile intact.

“Come use the microwave at my place.”
“Oh… but…”

I wasn’t sure whether what I was about to ask was something I was allowed to ask or not.

I must have been hesitating visibly, because Nanoha tilted her face toward mine with a puzzled look.

“You’re not coming?”
“…I’ll come.”
“Yes! Let’s go.”

I followed behind Nanoha as she set off happily ahead of me.

As we walked toward her apartment, we passed all kinds of people.

People who had probably been out enjoying the illuminations and were now walking home in easy, bright spirits.

I fixed my eyes on Nanoha’s back so those happy faces wouldn’t enter my field of vision.

When we reached her apartment, she started tidying with quick, fluttery movements. The flat had been completely dark when we came in — so probably, as always, no one else was home tonight.

“Morishita, bring the chicken over.”
“Okay.”

I stepped properly inside from the entrance, and handed her the convenience store bag. She went to the trouble of tipping everything out onto a plate before warming it. Almost no wait at all — a soft chime rang out, the microwave opened, and the smell of warm, savoury chicken filled the room.

She set it on the table with a pleased smile. “Here you go.”

“Are you hungry, Nanoha?”
“Somewhat? I haven’t had dinner yet.”
“You can have one.”
“Didn’t you want both for yourself?”
“Just take it.”

I really didn’t want her to go any further into that particular territory.
The heat was gathering in my face and showing no sign of stopping.

This isn’t like me at all.

“Oh — so you actually wanted to eat together with me?”
“If you’re going to say things like that, you’re not getting any.”
“I’m joking. Morishita-san, may I please have some chicken?”

I ignored the girl putting on a performance and took one piece, then slid the plate across to her side.

Nanoha carried it to her mouth with a bright manufactured smile — and the moment she bit into it, her expression changed completely.

She looked at the chicken with wide, surprised eyes.

I ignored that too and took a bite of my own. A rich savouriness spread through my mouth, the well-salted coating mixing with the flavour of the meat.

“I haven’t had this in ages. Was it always like this?”
“I wouldn’t know.”

There is no memory in me of spending Christmas with family.

Christmas is a day like any other for me. Just waking up, getting through the day somehow, going to sleep. That’s all it’s ever been.

Nanoha said it had been a long time since she’d eaten fried chicken — but what kind of Christmases had she been spending, until now?

I was turning that thought over while eating, and I noticed her expression had gone somewhere gentle. The corners of her mouth up, her eyes narrowed — it looked like happiness.

Seeing that face, my heart gave a loud thud.

The thing I’d bought out of my own stupid pride had apparently been of some use after all.

We finished the fried chicken quickly, and I washed my greasy hands at the kitchen sink.

It was almost time for bed.
I had to go home.
I didn’t want to — but I couldn’t impose on Nanoha any further.

“Nanoha, thank you. I’m going home.”

I turned my back to her and started to leave the room, and felt the sleeve of my clothes pinched softly from behind.

“Morishita, that’s house clothes, isn’t it?”

I’d come to Nanoha’s in what had become habit — like wearing a uniform — but the realisation that I was being seen in something close to pyjamas hit me suddenly, and embarrassment flooded through me all at once.

“You’re in house clothes too.”
“I am. I had a bath, and then I sort of wandered outside, and I found Morishita. I thought maybe Morishita was alone too.”
“So what?”
“Nothing. Morishita, stay over.”
“What?”

I didn’t understand why.
And yet somewhere in me had been hoping for exactly those words, and that was what I hated most of all.

Today, for some reason, I was lonely.
I didn’t want to be alone.
I’d wanted someone — anyone — near me.
That was why I’d kept putting off going home.

But I wasn’t selfish enough a person to act purely on what I wanted.

“It’ll be a nuisance, so I’m fine.”
“It’s not a nuisance.”
“But…”

The words stuck again, same as before. Because I didn’t know whether I was allowed to say this or not.

“But what?”
“I thought… it might bother your family…”

I turned around to look at Nanoha’s face, and what I found there was the worst, saddest expression I’d ever seen on her.

I’d known, somewhere, that I’d said the wrong thing.

I’d understood that, and said it anyway.

My wanting to know, weighed against choosing the safe path that wouldn’t hurt her — I’d gone with the former.

“Sorry…”
“Why are you apologising. I don’t really have family, so don’t worry about it. It’s cold out.”
“…Okay.”

Still holding my sleeve, Nanoha led me to her room.

The room was exactly as it had been the last time I’d come. The desk had a textbook and notebook scattered across it — she must have been studying until just before.

The room was quite cold.

Guided by Nanoha, I slipped into the bed, and my body went even colder.

I faced the wall without caring about the chill.

Nanoha would get into the bed.
It had been the same last time.
I wanted to warm up quickly, fall asleep, stop being aware of her.

That was what I was thinking — and then the duvet let in a seep of lukewarm air from beside me.

I’d meant to sleep, but someone kept tapping insistently at my back and I couldn’t.

“What?”
“Don’t speak in such an obviously grumpy voice. Turn over.”
“No.”
“My test scores dropped because of Morishita, you know~”

That made my chest ache sharply.

The fact that I’d got in the way of her studying might be true — but the scores dropping was her own doing.

Even so, I couldn’t shake the guilt, and I let her win and turned to face her.

Even in just the night light, her face was clear.

Every time I looked at her face up close, I think the same thing.
She’s put together so well. A proper girlish face. I’m almost jealous.

And I know exactly what makes that well-made face show its best smile.

I put my hand to her throat. Nanoha startled at first, but then her expression shifted into a slow, spreading smirk.

“What? Are you going to strangle me?”
“I was checking whether you’d make that funny face again.”
“Ha. You want to see my funny face — Morishita’s the weird one.”

The slender, sinewed throat moved every time she spoke.
Whatever she was thinking, Nanoha shifted to a serious expression and spoke.

“Can I ask one thing?”
“Hm?”
“You kissed my cheek once, remember? Why did you do that?”

Those words set my heart moving violently.

I wanted to escape from here right now.
I tried to think of an excuse, but nothing remotely plausible came to mind.

Was Nanoha awake back then?
I had been completely off guard.
Something, some reason—

“Don’t make that face.”

She poked at the space between my brows, and I knocked her hand away.

“Okay — I won’t press on that question. But will you hold me?”
“Excuse me?”
“Which do you prefer — answering the question, or holding me?”
“A third option.”
“There isn’t one.”

Without my having said yes, Nanoha pressed herself close. She held me so tightly I could barely breathe, and my heart felt wrung out.

“This is suffocating.”
“Morishita’s such a coward.”
“Excuse me?!”

Well — true. What had I been hesitating about?

Ran held onto me sometimes too. This was the same as that, with anyone.

Her words got to me, and I pulled her slender back toward me with a force that could have snapped it.
Serve her right for being annoying. She could be as miserable as she liked.

“Ow, that’s crushing me…”
“You’re the one who told me to.”

That said — holding on that hard for long was tiring on my end too, so I let up on the force. The arms wrapped around her back, I gave the gentlest of squeezes.

She’d always seemed large, the way she carried herself — but Nanoha was smaller than I’d thought.
A smaller body than mine, and yet a stronger will than anyone.
And stubborn, on top of it.

“It’s warm, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad Morishita didn’t go home today.”
“Why?”
“Because I felt lonely… And thanks for the chicken. It was delicious.”
“Right.”

I was lonely too, so it worked out.
Nanoha probably would have been fine with anyone.
We just happened to be conveniently placed for each other. That was all.

No matter how cold my responses were, Nanoha didn’t go quiet. She kept talking about nothing in particular, and laughed at my face when I barely reacted.

Noisy and loud — and somehow comfortable. That was a contradiction.

Without noticing, I was holding her closer, as though pulling her warmth toward me.

“I can hear Morishita’s heartbeat.”

The girl who had been pressing her ear against my chest said that suddenly, and I tried to pull away — but she held me tight and I couldn’t.

“Is Morishita nervous? Your heart’s going fast~”
“I’m not. You’re the weird one, Nanoha.”
“Ahaha. Morishita getting flustered over the weird one makes Morishita even weirder.”

She would not stop teasing me and it was genuinely infuriating.
I was considering kicking her, but Nanoha’s breathing had already steadied, and she was closing her eyes.

“Morishita… goodnight…”
“…”

She had been so lively — and on those words, she stopped talking entirely.

The sudden silence pressed in on me and I felt anxious.

It was Nanoha’s fault for going to sleep like she was dead.

I squeezed her wrist tightly, checking. And there it was — small and steady, thud thud, a pulse pushing back against my fingers.

The relief of that brought drowsiness rushing in.

I’d been falling asleep alone since primary school, so being told goodnight, and saying goodnight — both felt strange.

That was why I hadn’t been able to answer her goodnight with one of my own.

I evened out my breathing, in and out through my nose.

Just as Nanoha had said — my heart had been beating fast, and it took time to settle.

“Good… night—”

Into the ear of the girl already sleeping, in a small and clumsy voice, I said it. And closed my eyes.