The interior of Amamiya Tōru’s house, which I hadn’t entered for ages, was terribly messy.
It looked as though someone had been rampaging through it.
I walked cautiously along the dim corridor as ever.
Things kept bumping against my feet. Still, I didn’t stop walking, heading towards the room where I’d shared my first kiss with Amamiya Tōru, as I remembered it.

“Amamiya-san, are you there?”

I called her name once more.
I knew she was inside the house.
What I truly wanted to confirm was whether she was in a state to respond to my call.

……….

I waited for a reply, but heard nothing.
Then, all the more reason I couldn’t stop or turn back.

I entered the room where we had shared our first kiss.
　Last time I came, the curtains were open, so it was merely ‘dimly lit’.
But now, those curtains are drawn tight, plunging the room into complete darkness.

I illuminated the room with my mobile phone’s light.

I scanned the room’s state of disarray, starting from the front, and then shone the light into the far left corner.
There, huddled in the corner, hugging her knees, was a girl staring intently at me.

“…Amamiya-san?”

Her hair was a mess, and the fluffy, cat-eared loungewear I’d bought her was rumpled, as if someone had pulled at it.

“…? …Who?”

A raspy voice reached me.
It was undoubtedly the voice of Amamiya Tōru, whom I knew well, but something about her seemed off.
Who, she said.

“It’s me. Kuroda Mashiro.”
“…Ah. Mashiro, is it?”

For a moment, I panicked, thinking she’d forgotten me.
But she called me by name, just like before, proving she remembered.
She grinned.

“What’s the matter? Mashiro, coming to a place like this?”

An ill-fitting, awkward smile, the corners of her mouth twisted upwards.
Her eyes seemed to look at me, yet truly looked nowhere at all.
I sensed that emptiness.
Her smile had never been like this to before—

I tried to remember.

　………。……………、…………?

I couldn’t recall.

I’d seen Amamiya Tōru’s tearful face.
I knew every single one of Amamiya Tōru’s feigned expressions.
I remembered Amamiya Tōru’s sulky, angry expressions too.
I could vividly picture the ecstatic expression on Amamiya Tōru’s face when she begged me for a kiss.

　But.

Huh?

Even as I recall all of Amamiya Tōru’s various expressions.
I can’t find a single scene where she’s laughing out loud from the bottom of her heart.

The most I can manage to conjure up is her tender, affectionate smile.

I thought I’d drawn out a diverse palette of emotions from her transparent self.
I’d taken no small amount of pride in that result.
　But what about the most important colour?
Where was that radiant, joy-filled smile, the very picture of happiness?

I realised I hadn’t yet drawn that out of Amamiya Tōru.

“Mashiro? What’s wrong? You look troubled.”

Amamiya Tōru’s hand touched my cheek.
Her vacant eyes still fixed upon me.
　Even though she couldn’t truly see me, she pretended to look at me, feigning concern for me.

In other words, she had reverted to being a fabrication once more.

I had told her from the start that she didn’t need to show me a fabricated Amamiya Tōru anymore.
Since then, she had been her genuine self only with me.

But, ah, so that’s how it is.

　Amamiya Tōru now puts up walls, even towards me.

Her heart is broken.

That core of hers, the one she showed only to me, has snapped clean off.

“Amemiya-san…”

No. Tears well up. But I can’t cry.
Not in front of her like this. Not even I can show my tears.

“Amamiya-san, covered in wounds like this…”

Bruises were visible on her cheek, and upon closer inspection, all over the exposed parts of her body.

“What’s wrong with you, Mashiro? You’ve been acting strange since earlier.”

It wasn’t just physical wounds.
Was she even aware of the extent of her emotional scars?
　Or perhaps she was so tormented here, in her own home, that she couldn’t even bear to acknowledge them?
I recalled the violent sounds I’d heard earlier and her anguished cries.

………It must be so.
This is no place for Amamiya Tōru to be.

And then,

That man. The one puffing smoke, the one who surely shattered Amamiya Tōru’s heart.

　I cannot let him see Amamiya Tōru again.

I gently grasp the hand that is softly stroking my cheek.
Envelop it with both of mine.

“Mashiro?”

She told me before.
That I was a warm light.
To help her remember that once more.
I realise. That her light is me.
That I alone can save her.

“Amamiya-san, let’s go to my place.”

As if to pour whatever warmth might reside within me into the hands I held.

I made the suggestion, gazing into her eyes.

◇

Holding Amamiya Tōru’s hand firmly, ensuring I wouldn’t let go, we left the apartment.
The time was just past six.
　I simply messaged Mum on LINE that I was bringing a friend over. Without a word, Amamiya Tōru followed me home, looking puzzled by the current situation.

”“………””

We were both silent.
To get home, we had to take the train, and to take the train, we had to go to the station.
The station would inevitably have people. Was it really okay to show Amamiya Tōru like this in such a place?

　When we left the flat, I made her change into her school uniform.
I couldn’t very well let her go out in that cat-eared loungewear.
But even that uniform was wrinkled, with patches of red stains here and there.
In a word, it screamed ‘incident’. Big time.

What’s more, after telling her we’d be living together from now on, the only thing Amamiya Tōru had brought from the flat was that one piece of loungewear.

　What about your phone? Or something like that.

It wasn’t a situation where I could ask.

So, now, walking down the street are me in my own clothes and Amamiya Tōru, clad in a tattered uniform and clutching the loungewear.

………I’ll try not to mind the stares for now.

Even so, I should be used to silence by now.
It’s awkward again.
　Awkward, or rather, with Amamiya Tōru ‘s current broken state of mind, not speaking makes it even harder to grasp what she’s thinking.

I wanted conversation, if only to understand her state of mind a little better.

Then, suddenly, my phone vibrated, alerting me to a notification.
A reply from Mum, an ‘OK’ sticker, and the words ‘There’s cake too’.

Ah, right.

“Amamiya-san.”
“What is it, Mashiro?”

Her responses were clear.
It seemed fine to carry on a normal conversation.

“Do you know what day it is today?”
“………? No.”
“………”

It made me sad.
I knew it was no good.
Tears threatened to spill again.

Today was the twenty-fifth of December.

“Today is Christmas.”

　I turn towards Amamiya Tōru, walking diagonally behind me, and tell her gently with a smile.

“Huh? …So? Is something wrong?”
“……Do you know what kind of day Christmas is?”
“It’s the Holy Night, isn’t it?”
“Do you know what people do?”
“I don’t know. Just that I’m a bad girl, so Dad said there’d be nothing for me.”
“Dad…”

That means,

“Dad was there just before Mashiro arrived.”

Ah, so it was him.
That person.

Sadness. Anger, regret.

All sorts of emotions swirled within my chest.

But now, I suppressed them all and forced a smile.

“Is that so? Then today, let’s make it a Christmas where Amamiya-san can have the most wonderful memories.”
“…? Would that be fun for Mashiro too?”

She peered at my face.
For just an instant, her vacant eyes seemed to hold a glimmer of light as she looked at me.

“Yes, I suppose so. Let’s enjoy it together!”
“Mm.”

We arrived at the station, bought her ticket.
Rocked by the train.
And finally.
Amamiya Tōru was at my house. That cohabitation began.

　◆

When I formed that financial arrangement with her. With Amamiya Tōru.

What was my deciding factor again?

I’m sure—

Her past, her environment, which made her unable to express her feelings honestly.
And her current situation, where she manages well with a blank expression and calculation.

　—Wasn’t it all just the world being at fault?

—That sort of thing. I’d gone so far as to label the entire world the villain, hadn’t I?
—And then, I’d probably indulged in that painful delusion that I was the only one on Amamiya Tōru’s side.

You see, I’ve always been the sort of girl who retreats into her own world and gets lost in her fantasies.

So I often jumped to conclusions without thinking, and I think my parents scolded me for it every time.
　I was the type to jump to conclusions fiercely, and I wasn’t exactly quick on the uptake either.

Even now.

Perhaps my thoughts are wildly eccentric.
Just like when I decided the world was evil, it’s entirely possible my delusions have run wild again this time.

But it’s always been like this.
I’m not someone who can stop at times like this.

　A balance was born in my mind.

The future of one man, who had utterly ruined a girl’s seventeen years of life, a future that would surely hold nothing but tedium.

And the future of one girl, whose heart had been wounded time and again over seventeen years, a future still long ahead, a future that ought to be filled with happiness.

Which future weighs heavier?

I shall follow that balance…