I will forget this feeling someday by Yoru Somino 2

More times than I could count now, I'd cursed my own indecisiveness. Or maybe not cursing, just being disappointed in myself. Though by this point, I could truthfully do neither.

"What's the matter, Ka?" Chika was breathing. Chika was sitting beside me. Chika's eyes were turned my way. I forgot to even reply. I couldn't play it off. I was shaken by her very arrival.

"Sorry, I was just thinking about what?"

"About Chika, of course, and about my own foolish thoughts regarding her. About you?"

"Both as an experiment and as a means of measuring myself," I answered truthfully. "What about me?"

At that point, I could have just spilled exactly what I was thinking. It wasn't like she would get the message anyway. The reason I chose not to was for fear that if I did, it would dominate the day's conversation and waste our time together. There was no point in subjecting her to something that she couldn't possibly understand anyway. That said, I had no intention of lying either. Instead, I put a spin on it.

"I was wondering if the time that I spend with you means anything more significant than us just having fun. Like whether it's something that could change both of our lives or not."

"Yeah. That's what you've been after, right?"

"Been after?"

"Yeah. Personally, I haven't really been trying to get anything more out of these meetings than spending time with you. Testing out whether we can have any effect on each other's worlds is fun in and of itself. You've been trying to get something more meaningful out of it, though. Has that been a burden on you?"

"No, it doesn't bother me or anything. The world runs on people who are looking for things. You might just be setting both our worlds in motion. I mean, it doesn't have to be anything that grandiose, but yeah. Anyway, I have to reiterate, I do cherish the fact that you and I met at all."

I really did feel that way. The fact that I had met her was special. The time I spent with her was special. It was an encounter that might change my whole life. However, my odd uncertainty about what form I hoped this change would take clouded my vision. One could think it was enough that Chika's existence itself shielded me from the blandness of my everyday life. That might have been enough if I was assured that this could go on forever. But maybe it wouldn't. You could never know when the ties that bind people might unravel. I wanted something special that could never be undone. I wanted an eternal high. Thus, even if the budding feelings I recognized that day might one day grow into a more intense feeling for Chika herself, I couldn't call that happy. I needed to find something more than our meetings, something that could persist, even if she wasn't there. The feelings we have for others are nothing more than a momentary consolation. Worse, they impede our clear judgment. I couldn't accept them so easily.

"Have you figured it out yet? What this time we share means?"

"We still have no idea how much effect we have on each other's worlds. So, at the moment, I think all we can do is share information directly. And given that we can't convey smells or tastes, I was wondering if there's something that we should be telling each other with our words. Like you said, the world is made of words, of things that we share with our voices. The words that we should share. Not something ineffable like kindness or passion, but something tangible that we could both comprehend under our own value systems and carry into the rest of our lives."

At the time, I still didn't know what those words could be. But if we kept exchanging information, perhaps we might stumble upon some shortcut to that. As I waited for her response, I watched one of her fingernails, presumably her index finger based on the alignment, moved to what was most likely her cheek.

"Something we can share with our voices. We could share stories, but that would take up a lot of time."

"That's true. Stuff like folktales would be much shorter, though."

"What kind of folk tales?"

Thinking on the classics, I decided to introduce Chika to the tale of Motto. When I finished, Chika began pondering the meaning of the story.

"I guess it's a story about helping those who are willing to help you."

"I finished. So, it's better to have someone there than not, even if those in question are animals."

"Well, that sure was one way to look at it."

Next, I listened to a folktale from Chika's world. I asked her for something very orthodox and was presented with a story about a man who tried to get rich by selling water to a town that was built by the shore. It was probably a much more worthwhile story than Mumo with its lesson that it takes ingenuity to accomplish things, but otherwise, I really didn't get anything novel out of it. There were an absurd number of similar stories in my own world.

"Okay. Well, putting aside stories for now, I wonder if there's something else we can tell each other. Perhaps history or religion."

As I pondered this, Chika let out an oh from beside me as though she had thought of something.

"Maybe songs," she said.

"Songs?"

"Yeah. We can't share our cultures with smells or flavors, but maybe we can share them with songs."

H I had in fact listened to a lot of songs before, wondering if there was any music out there that could change your whole life. It was around the time when I was really into reading, back when I still had some faith in the creations of others. Naturally, the only conclusion I had come to was, "Is that all there is?"

"Do you not like music?"

Still, there was a chance that songs themselves meant something different in our worlds, so it would be silly to reject the idea outright.

"I used to listen to music, but I lost interest pretty quick. I would like to hear a song from your world, though."

As I spoke, I suddenly grew embarrassed, realizing I was pressing her to sing.

"All right, I'll sing one then."

Getting to hear a song from another world was exciting, pure and simple.

"I know it's a bit sudden, but could you move a little closer?"

We aren't allowed to sing loudly. She meant that she needed me to move closer so I could hear her even if she sang softly. As though the thing budding in my mind had started to take root. My body felt twice as heavy as it had every other time I'd made the same movement. Still, to avoid any pitiful looking hesitation, I dutifully followed her orders and moved over to the right. Chika moved the same distance toward me, and I could feel the sensation of someone moving beside me on my right arm. Normally, I would not have been so sensitive to such a sensation. But now, it was as though I could feel the very ripples in the air that her movements set in motion. Oversensitive to her presence, I faced forward instead of looking at her. I couldn't look at her.

"I'll sing now."

Her voice was so close. It was like the vibrations of her vocal cords were transferred directly to my eardrums. I swallowed back something like a scream, pulling back from where she would have been sitting and turning to look at her. Her eyes were right at the spot where my ear would have been moments before.

"What's wrong?" she asked, tilting her head curiously.

I slackened my pursed lips and took a deep breath so she wouldn't catch on. I could tell by the placement of her nails that she was sitting much closer to me than she ever had before.

"I was just surprised at how close you were."

"I see. Sorry. I was trying to stay close and sing quietly because I was worried I might get too loud while I was singing. Don't worry though, I won't bite. Now get back over here."

I averted my gaze from her two narrowed eyes, slowly moving back to the spot I was in before. I turned just my eyes toward her and saw Chika right there beside me. The only part of her expression that I could actually know was floating there in the air. I wondered what sort of emotion the rest of her body would have expressed.

"All right, I'm going to sing now."

I could hear her breathing in, then felt her breath graze my cheek. Her voice, more a whisper than an Arya, seeped into my body. I had been nervous that some part of the lyrics might have used some specialized expression from her world and disappeared into static, but it turned out fine. However, I'm not quite sure how to put this, but the melody possessed a roughness that neither my ears nor my brain had expected. I was absolutely certain that even if she had immediately asked me to hum it back to her, I wouldn't have been able to, despite the sound ringing in my head. Still, it was a pleasant song. I felt as though I had heard a new facet of her voice. As she finished, I could feel the very membrane of her existence that clung to her surface. Something that couldn't even be called body heat moving away from me. I turned my face cautiously to the side, but her eyes were still right there.

"I'm not sure if I sung it well, though," she said humbly, at which I explained the sensation I had just felt.

"I see. So, that's how it felt to you. Yeah. What kind of song is that in your world anyway? Like something that children would sing or a song from a popular artist?"

"It's a song I've been hearing a lot lately when I go for walks outside. I've heard it so many times now that I've memorized it."

I had somehow expected her to pick some nursery rhyme or an old standard, but apparently it was nothing more than a song she had happened to hear. Still, if I thought really hard about it, it wasn't all that strange that Chika, who had little interest in the place she was born, or even in her own life, would not have chosen something simply because she knew it from childhood.

"Could I hear a song from your world, too?"

"Yeah, sure."

I accepted this request readily, having already suspected it might come. There was no reason for me not to honor our equal exchange.

"Guess I should do something in the same vein."

"Sure, just as long as you don't sing too loud, though."

"I guess you'll probably be fine."

"True enough. I rarely spoke very loudly in the first place."

"Okay. Could you point to your ear, though?"

"Right here."

The light of her eyes disappeared, replaced with a single light that was probably her index finger hovering at a place just below my seated ey line. She had likely closed her eyes so that I could see the placement of her nails more distinctly. I realized that hesitating would do me no favors, so I decided to get it over with before my heart could consume my whole body and halt me in my tracks. Previously, I had been startled by how close she was to me. But I would have to get just as close to her if she was going to hear me at the same volume. I brought my face closer to where her ear was. I turned toward my only landmark in the darkness and cautiously drew nearer. I kept my breath shallow so that she wouldn't sense my discomfort.

"This should be the right place," I thought. Just a moment too late as the tip of my nose collided with something soft.

"Oops."

I quickly drew back only to see her looking at me slightly wideeyed.

"What's up?"

"Uh, I'm really sorry. I couldn't tell how close I was, so I guess I ran into your ear or something. Is it that rude to touch someone's ear in your world?"

"It is. Or at least I figured you wouldn't like it. I was a little surprised at you touching me, but I knew you were getting closer, so I wasn't surprised it happened. Plus, it's not like you're a stranger or someone I hate."

With that, she got back into position.

"If it's hard for you to judge the distance, then maybe we should just have you confirm where my ear is with your finger."

I hesitated for two full seconds at the suggestion, then timidly reached my hand out to the place she indicated. Careful not to poke her with my fingernail, I moved cautiously forward until I felt something come into contact with my fingertip. I wasn't certain which part was her ear, so despite it feeling a bit inappropriate, I traced my finger along the spot. As I moved it down, I felt something cold and soft. Her earlo, probably. That meant that what I felt before was probably the cartilage of her upper ear. Her ears were the same shape as a humans. I gripped her ear with as little force as I possibly could in the spot where I figured it would be most difficult to cause her any pain. Though I couldn't see it, her body was very evidently there. The fact that I couldn't feel her hair meant that it was probably cropped short or perhaps tied back in a ponytail. It was even possible that she didn't have any hair at all. Given that suddenly groping her head to confirm this would be a huge fauxpaw, at least in my world, I decided to just wait until there was an appropriate time to ask her.

Chica lowered her hand from her ear. Using my own hand as a guide, I brought my mouth close to her ear, careful not to collide with it this time.

"Okay, I'm going to sing now."

It was obvious that I should whisper, but my own bashfulness plugged up my throat. I turned away and coughed once, then released her earlobe. I had only ever sung in front of others in music class, or when I was dragged along to karaoke back in junior high while I was actively trying to make new friends. I never thought the day would come when I would be singing for just one person. Ideally, I should have sung Chika, a similar current popular song, but music for me was nothing more than background noise that came through the radio. Still, it would feel wrong in this exchange for me to offer up a nursery rhyme or similar. So, instead, I chose something I recalled from back when I was pretending to actually enjoy music. She would get bored if I went too long, though, so just the chorus. Once I was finished, I pulled immediately away from her ear. She slowly opened her eyes. Asking her for her impressions would be like requesting an evaluation of my singing voice. So, I simply waited to hear what she would say. Deep down, I did wonder how my voice felt to her.

"Your voice is clear and quite powerful," she said finally. "I can really feel your heart in it."

I highly doubted that my heart had actually closed the gap between our bodies and spoken to Chica, but I was still stunned.

"As for how it sounded, it's like you said before, I could understand all the words perfectly, but this music itself sounded pretty strange to me. I'm glad that I could understand it pretty well from the tone of your voice."

"Ah, yeah. Me, too. I was a coward. Earlier, I had not conveyed exactly what I'd felt in her voice. It felt like if I spoke about the same things that Chika had, it would only make the fact that I saw her as herself that much more intense. In a fit of cowardice, I had kept it to myself. How could I possibly tell her that in the wake of what she had said to me?"

"I have no idea what my voice actually sounded like, but it certainly wasn't clear or powerful. The way people in your world arrange the words in your songs is really pretty, but it's like nothing that exists in my world. I guess what's significant is the music," she continued. "Like you said though, it's a weird sensation. But if I tried to sing it back right now, I don't think I'd be able to vocalize it easily."

"I see. So, I guess that means there's not much point in songs either."

"Guess not. It was fun though, so it meant something to me at least. If I had been able to tell her me too, then perhaps I could have smiled along with her. But that was the one sentiment I couldn't voice."

"Well, guess there's no sense in us trying it over and over."

It was true, just as there was no point to music that we had tried to hear but knew we couldn't comprehend. If there were songs with lyrics incredibly important to our worlds, we could simply tell each other those lyrics. There was no need to hear each other sing anymore. Still, it felt unfortunate to me that this might be the last time I got to hear Chika sing.

"Do you ever wish that things around you were different?" The question came suddenly from right beside me, still at singing distance. I swiftly banished the thought that we might never sit this close again either.

"I don't really think much about what's around me. People should do whatever they want. It was a bit dull of me. But honestly, as long as they didn't interfere with me, I didn't care how other people wanted to live their lives. As long as they didn't bother me, it was none of my business if they lived or died. Why do you ask?"

"Because like I said before, it seems like you have some sort of objective. I have no idea what effect we can have on each other's worlds, but I was thinking that I wish there was something I could do in this world for you."

"What?"

"Uh, thanks." Chall was kind though. I knew that kindness didn't make someone less boring.

"Do you have something like that? Something around you that you wish was different."

From this distance, I could feel the air of her hesitation down to my core.

"Like you, I just want everyone to live their own lives. As long as we don't bother each other too much. So, if there's anything at all, I guess it's the beep."

I'd noticed that lately there were fewer words from Chika that I couldn't hear. Perhaps she had purposely been avoiding words that might be hard to comprehend.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that last word there."

"It's an animal, the kind that bit my leg. There's a pack of them in the neighborhood, and sometimes they howl at me or chase me. I sort of wish they would just go away."

It was the fault of my slow imagination that I thought for even an instant that it seemed like a rather precious worry. The size or ferocity of these animals was not something I could possibly surmise. Chika didn't sound particularly emotional about it, but there was a chance that was merely out of fear. I wished that there was something I could do for sweet, gentle Chica. That was a completely normal human emotion to feel. But that's all. Beyond that, I have my room and the time I spend with you and my other friends, and I would never want that to change. Of course, this was Chika, who lived with everpresent war. I was sure that she would have hoped for the wars to end, but of course, there was nothing that I could personally do about something as large scale as that. So, I guess I was a little relieved that she hadn't said it. I didn't like to be reminded of how powerless I truly was. I was a coward. I had been this entire time.

"I'll try to think whether there's anything I can do about that animal. I want to make things around you better," I said. Though I had absolutely no idea what to do.

"Thank you. Still, even if you don't do anything, the fact that you're there for me means something. I want you to know that."

When she said that to me, I knew for certain. I had no idea how much longer I could hide my feelings. I thought about it all night and decided to do something for Chika immediately the next day. The only animal I had any connection with who might have some effect on the animal that had been bothering Chika was Alumi. Simply giving the dog food had not had any effect on Chika's world. Even so, we had absolutely no idea what laws governed the connection between our worlds. So, it didn't hurt to try. Knowing that Tanaka, the dog's owner, had work that day after school, I decided to head over straight away. My intention today was not to give Alumi head pats. It was to take a look at the dog's collar and leash and to find out what made Alumi bark. All in preparation for a kidnapping. That was the word that popped into my mind, but it really wasn't all that dramatic. It was simply an experiment, one which I was uncertain would even have any effect in which I would keep Alumi chained up somewhere for a night or two to see if it could drive that animal away from Chika. If Alumi got away once, they might even put up a fence at the entrance to Tanaka's house. If my plan could affect Chika's world and lead to better animal control all around, I'd call that a win-win.

Upon hearing my usual footsteps, Alumi bounded over from the shade of a well, Snout pointed out and awaiting my arrival. I stopped in front of Alumi and gave the dog the usual pets as I observed the chain that ran between the doghouse and Alumi's collar. If possible, I wanted to make them think that Alumi had run away. I looked at the collar. It was fashioned exactly like a human belt, but smaller with a buckle. If I unfassened and redid it, it would seem like Alumi had slipped out all on its own. Thinking through how I was going to do this deed, I put my hands around Alumi's stomach and tried picking the dog up. I was lucky that this was a smaller breed. I figure there was a chance might make a big fuss, but it didn't happen. The dog stayed perfectly quiet. Thankfully, none of my worries had come to pass. But was this really the right choice for a guard dog? I tried loosening the collar, but even then, Alumi made little move to struggle. While it was rather anticlimactic, this meant it would be a simple feat to borrow Alumi for a bit and then return the dog back home. Even as I reassened the collar, Alumi just brought its nose to my arm, sniffing, not even nipping. I almost wanted to chide the dog for this utter lack of vigilance. Later, I plan to return here at night and check what time the lights went out at Tanaka's house. Depending on the usual household patterns, I thought I might even be able to snatch Lumi away that night. But first, I had to think practically about where I was going to chain the dog up. And thus, my plan was put in motion.

But though I stopped by Tonica's house that night and the next night and the next, one hour later each time I made my way back from the bus stop, I never once saw all the lights out at once. During the latest hour I visited, the only lights were on the second floor. I had no idea if that was her room, but I mentally scolded Tanaka that if she was going to be sleeping in class all the time, she should go to bed earlier. I would probably have to go home and slip out of the house again in the middle of the night. It would be a pain to avoid waking my own family.

On the fourth day of not seeing Chika, I arrived at school at the usual time to see Silito laughing along with Tanaka and her pals in the corner of the classroom. I was not particularly interested in this, but my eyes were still drawn to the unusual sight. I took my seat and stared at my desk. Normally, I would be fully absorbed in my own thoughts, but today I lent an ear to Tanaka's conversation beside me. It would help to catch anything that might aid me in spiriting Alumi away. Of course, naturally, Tanaka would never do anything I wanted her to, and so all my concentration that morning was wasted.

"Alumi is so cute."

That day at lunch, as I waited out the period in silence as usual, there was a commotion beside me. It seemed my neighbor Tanaka was sharing around a video of Alumi.

"Go do that somewhere else," I thought. But she hadn't been to work for the past 3 days, leaving me unable to check in on Alumi. So, I decided to sneak a peek. Just then, our eyes met.

"What you want to see, too?"

"I was about to lodge a complaint. You're too loud. Go do that somewhere else."

"What? It's lunchtime. If you want quiet, go to the library or something."

I was irritated at how she said it, but she did have a point. I started to shift my weight to my feet to stand up and leave when she turned her phone screen my way.

"Come on, look at this cutie."

I reflexively looked and saw Lumi on the screen wrapped up in an old bath towel and rolling around. Tonica's laughter rang in the background like a soundtrack. I was glad to see Alumi doing well.

"Cute, right?" I managed a nod, but was still annoyed, so I stood from my seat. I heard a "what's with you" behind me, followed by a "Suzuki's like that no matter who tries to talk to him" from someone else.

Life went on as usual for some time after with neither the chance to abscond with Lumi rising nor any appearances from Chika. The rainy season would be ending soon. Incidentally, I had heard a report that the war would end before the rainy season did. But more recently, there had been concerning reports that the flames of war were spreading, even to Japan.

It was 2 weeks after I made that grand statement to Chika that I obtained some useful information. I overheard that Tanuka would be staying the night at friend's place that coming Saturday. If she wasn't home, a full lights out at their home might come earlier. It was helpful, furthermore, that this information had not come from the owner in question herself. I heard about it from her posi, so it was doubtful that any suspicion would fall on me after the fact.

On the night I set the plan into motion, the wind was blowing in its usual direction. I set out on my bike. A collar, a leash, and dishes for Alumi's food, as well as water that I had purchased ahead of time, had been set aside in the bus shelter. My plan was to wait a bit at the bus stop, talk to Chika if I was lucky, though the odds of that were low, and then head to Tanaka's place around midnight. I was glad that it wasn't raining. I didn't want Alumi to get soaked, and if it was raining, there was a chance they might have brought Alumi inside for the night. Anyway, I reached the bus stop in the dark, parked my bike, and slid the door open. As always, Chica wasn't there. If she had been present, I intended to tell her about my plan and then ask her to check on the status of the violent animal in her neighborhood the next day, but I would just have to leave that for later. I sat down on the bench. Thinking about it, you could say that my plan would be the first instance of Chika's presence having a negative effect on my world. Of course, my concern was not for Tanaka. I was only worried about Alumi, though. It would just be for a couple of days. Being removed from its familiar home when it had done nothing wrong might prove stressful. Maybe I should have bought some more treats or something. I'd consider it if the abduction went well. I'd come to learn recently that if Chica did not appear by 11:30 p.m., it was unlikely she'd show up anytime after that. When I sat there alone in the quiet, checked my watch, and found that it was past 11:30, I would be sad. Yet, if I had to admit it lately, I was also somewhat relieved. I wasn't interested in seeing who else I might become at the mercy of such bizarre emotions.

Once again, 11:30 p.m. rolled around. I picked up my things and set out. For the first time ever, I was glad that our town was in the middle of nowhere. If you try to snatch a dog in a more populated area, you'd be reported on the spot. Previously, Chikai told me that she lived in a town with a lot of people. Apparently, the local flavor had nothing to do with the link we shared. I urged my bike forward along a hilly road with a nice incline for training. The wind felt pleasant as I cruised downhill. I purchased a water bottle from a vending machine I passed along the way, running mental stimulations of what was about to occur in my head as I rode. Finally, I arrived at my destination. There was no one around. I parked my bike a short distance away, careful to walk as quietly as possible as I approached the traditionally built home. At a quick glance, it didn't look like there were lights on either the first or second floor. I made a quick lap around the house, stealing a glance through the front, but it was pitch black inside. Still, that didn't put me at ease. There were two cars present, likely belonging to Tanaka's parents, which had not been there during the day. If Alumi raised any commotion, I would have to run immediately. I slipped in through the back gate to find Alumi lying there prettily gazing up at the sky. There was a full moon tonight. Before I could even call out, Alumi picked up on my scent, noticed me, and trotted over. There were no lights, but the bright moonlight was enough for Lumi to confirm who I was. I was glad the pup seemed well. Now the real trouble began. I had practiced this many times during the day, but it wouldn't be surprising if my loosening the collar at night put Alumi on guard. Honestly, I could not even complain if I was barked at being an intruder. Despite my worries, though, Alumi just sat there quietly and waited for me to loosen the collar. Even as I was refacing it to give the illusion that Alumi had run away on its own, it merely sat there, patient. This worried me for a different reason. Honestly, in terms of executing my plan, I could not ask for a more favorable outcome. I picked Alumi up and slipped away from the house, placing the dog gently in my bike basket. It looked a bit cramped, but Alumi neatly folded up its legs and tucked right in. To keep the dog from fussing, I offered it a treat it would have to chew on for a while. Once it was occupied, I fastened the new collar and leashed it to the basket, straddled my bike, and started riding. It was almost a let down how smoothly the abduction had gone. I rode down a road with even fewer people than the one I had taken to get there. Headed for my destination, I thought about taking Alumi somewhere far away. But I needed to know how much of an effect this would have on Chika's world. So, I decided to keep the operation close by. That said, sticking close to my home would raise too many suspicions. So, I instead chose a place that I could stop by while I was out on my runs. We entered a mountainous area that would have been a verdant green during the daytime, but was now pitch dark. Going down a road it'd never seen before made Alumi understandably anxious, and it looked up at me and let out a small bark. Still, a creative part of my mind imagined this bark was more of a criticism, more of a, "What do you think you're doing?" as though the two of us were partners in crime on the run. I reached a steep slope and stood up in the saddle to put my weight into pedalling up it. At the top of the hill was a bus stop. It was in shambles, darkness all around it with an adjoining shelter that looked like it might crumble at any moment. I had found it recently when I was riding around looking for a place to stash the dog. Like my usual haunt, this stop was no longer in use. I'd run this way numerous times in the evening. But not once did I see any cars or people along the road. It was the perfect place to hide Alumi. I opened the door of this new bus shelter and carried Alumi inside. The dog waited, patient as ever, for me to attach its collar to the bench inside.

"Sorry, this will just be for a little while."

I put some treats into a deep plastic bowl I'd purchased at a convenience store, filled another with water from the plastic bottle and placed them both before Alumi. Now my goal had been achieved and it was time for me to leave the shelter. I closed the door and started to climb back on my bike when I heard Alumi bark once more. I took off as quick as I could toward home. My initial plan had been to leave alumi there for 2 days, but I recalled hearing that dogs experience time differently from humans. It was probably best I returned at home the next day. I considered altering my plans. I went home and went right to sleep. And when dawn broke, it was Sunday. I wondered if Tanuka was back yet. There would have probably been a big commotion when she got home and found Alumi gone. I didn't intend to cause a classmate any needless suffering, but I was doing this to keep Chikas safe. Some sacrifices had to be made. On the weekends, I always went running in the morning. Thus, I was able to go check in on Alumi without ruining my daily routine. I ran for about 20 minutes, food and water in hand. When I opened the door to the shelter where Alumi had been since the night before, I was relieved to feel comfortable air cling to my face, not much different from outside. One of the reasons I had chosen this lodging for Alumi was the thick canopy overhead which shaded the roof from the sun. Upon seeing me, Alumi stood up. I stooped down and scratched the dog on the head. I could see some dust clinging to the fur of its belly. I put some food in the dish and replenished the water supply, which Alumi happily began lapping up without a single complaint. It occurred to me that Alumi would probably need a bit of exercise. It was a Sunday morning. Few people passed through here and if anyone saw me from a car, it would just look like I was walking my dog. I detached the leash from the bench and set out with the Lumi. I figured it might start immediately running for home, but that didn't happen. We just walked around the surrounding area for a little bit before I returned the dog to the shelter. I decided I would check in on Alumi again that evening and decide whether I should keep the dog for one more night. That settled, I left the bus stop behind.

That night, I set off on my bike toward the first bus stop.

"Evening, Ka."

While I had no way to determine any pattern to the situation, and thus no way to predict her appearances, I was nonetheless kind of surprised to actually see Chika at the bus shelter that evening. When I mentioned this first thing upon seeing her, Chika began to seriously consider the implications.

"To be honest, I had planned on going to a different safe house today, but something came up. I had to go back near my house and ended up here. I wonder if it's got anything to do with that."

"Are you asking if my intentions have any effect on your plans? I wonder if it could really be that subtle. Even if it was, that didn't seem very useful. The fact that I had even predicted this could have easily been a fabrication of my own mind after it happened. Even if that's true, I'm not sure we can make anything useful of it. But if we really are connected down to the depths of your consciousness, that's kind of heartening, if also a bit frightening."

I understood her sentiment exactly. It would be terrifying to be linked to someone else's consciousness. It was scary to think that I might not be my own person regardless of what I felt about Chika or anything like that. At the same time, if she wasn't her own solid individual, it made all of this much less meaningful. At any rate, talk of will and predictions aside, chances were high that this was all just a coincidence, it was prudent to consider the most logical possibility.

"Oh, right. So, I tried relocating a local animal to see if it would do anything to that scary animal you mentioned. I wonder if it's had any effect yet."

"Oh." The lights of Chika's eyes widened, and she made a reserved sound of understanding and surprise. "I noticed that I hadn't seen it around lately. So maybe you did have some effect. When you say lately though, do you mean in the past few days? I only did it yesterday."

Which led me to wonder, had some phenomenon in Chika's world prompted my decision to act and kidnap Alumi? The thought made me shudder. Once again, I had to question my sense of self. Was I the one affected then?

"I mean, we still can't assume that the party who acted later is the one who was affected. Even if our weather is the same, we don't know for certain how the time aligns in your world and mine. Nor do we have any way of finding that out. The thought of the event that happened later being the cause rather than the effect was sounding very sci-fi. Plus, I'd like to believe that we both still have free will. So, I'd like to think it's thanks to you that I don't have to be afraid anymore. Thank you."

"That's Oh, that's good. I really didn't require any thanks, but if Chik could rest even a little bit easier, that was good enough for me."

"Well, then," I continued. "Just to confirm whether I really affected things, I'll try taking the animal on this side back home. It might put you in danger again, though."

"No, I'm all right. That would just mean going back to normal, so it's not so bad, right?"

Really? I thought that through, though, I really didn't have to. I hated the idea of things going back to normal. When I thought of this time that I shared with Chika, when I thought of losing my something special, it felt like all the blood drained from my heart. I needed to find something I could use to satisfy my desires, something with which I could make my own heartbeat. If I could not do that, fear was inevitable.

"Chika seemed to imply that should that day come, it wouldn't bother her. Has anything nice happened around you lately?" she asked.

"No, not especially. Did you do something?" I figured she wanted to know the results of some experiment, but her eyes drifted side to side.

"No, I wasn't asking to confirm any effects. I was just hoping that at least one nice thing had happened in your world since you did something so nice for me." She wasn't talking about her world affecting mine, but rather my world affecting itself. It wasn't about my actions having a positive effect on Chika, but on me. My happiness wrought by my own hands and no one else's. That was what she'd asked about. Honestly, I should have been happy that she thought that way about me and accepted things as they were. But I couldn't. Though it was contradictory to say, Chaw's words pulled me right back down to my own world. It was like she was telling me I couldn't let myself get addicted to my meetings with her.

"Thanks." There was something that had occurred to me some time ago, floating there, right above my palm. I reached out and grasped it. Perhaps, perhaps my search for some meaning in Chika's existence, my being overwhelmed by all these special feelings. Perhaps it was all just me running from myself. In all this time, I had never figured out why Chika and I met. Perhaps this was because there was nothing to understand in the first place. Maybe Chika was simply there. Maybe she didn't exist just to make me happy. I'd just been averting my eyes from that possibility, hadn't I? If we kept spending all our time just investigating these cross effects when we someday parted for good, all I'd feel would be the loss of all this wasted time, and I still wouldn't be rescued from my boredom. So then, what would be the point of it all? I needed to tell her something important, something incredibly important that would show her the will that I myself possessed. And yet, from then until the moment Chica noticed the siren and departed, I couldn't bring myself to say it, that perhaps there was no point to our spending time together at all.

I was alone in the shelter. My head swirled with the thought that our time together was utterly pointless. At the same time, I chided myself not to let my own thoughts stray too much. My own voice rang loudly in my ears, unyielding. I could no longer ignore the clear warnings from my heart. I heaved a sigh. For now, I just needed to go check in on Alumi and return the dog back home. I had something to do. Thankfully, Shika had never appeared two nights in a row, so I had some time until our next meeting. This meant that I'd have time to think about what to do in the future. For now, I just needed to get out of here. I stood up, opened the door, shut it, mounted my bike, and headed for the second bus stop. The wind felt cool against my skin. I'd heard it was going to rain tomorrow. That was part of why I was considering returning a Lumi home tonight. Even if we stop seeing each other because I never fully opened up about my feelings. At least I can see this matter. Dealing with the animal that's been harassing Chika through to the end. I thought as I rode my bike. My heart and mind were both rejoicing that I wouldn't have to think about parting from Chika until then. A joy that came prematurely. As long as you don't trouble yourself with difficult things, life is easy. If I just let my emotions wash over me and breathed, I didn't have to worry about a thing. No need to waste energy on worrying. But that isn't really living. When you have doubts, you have doubts. There was no certainty to my feelings or thoughts. I climbed the final hill to the bus stop where Lumi was stashed, muttering silently to myself all the way. Perhaps because I had shocked my body with a sudden exercise or because the oxygen supply to my heart where Chika dwelled so close to my lungs was choked off. My wristwatch let out a single electronic beep. I parked my bike and quietly let air into my lungs. In the absence of any noise but the trees rustling in the wind, the sound of me dismounting my bike and putting out the kickstand rang impossibly loud. I couldn't hear Lumi from the shelter. I was glad the dog had figured out how to while away the time quietly. I had no idea how much intelligence or emotion your typical dog or any animal for that matter possessed. I didn't know who decided that their minds were inferior to humans. For all we knew, they only acted stupid in front of humans. It's probably because humans considered things less intelligent than them cute. I started hating myself all the more as I opened the sliding door, realizing that the only reason I didn't find other humans cute in the same way was that I recognized that we were the same breed. Alumi was not there. My heart leapt to my throat. I felt dizzy in a way that I had once before. For several seconds, I stood there frozen, unmoving. Then I returned to my senses, realizing there was no point to standing there in shock. Alumi was gone. All that was left in the shelter were the collar and leash I had put on it, along with the half-consumed food and water. Clearly, the dog had escaped. Thinking that perhaps Alumi might be crouching somewhere in the darkness in the corner of the shelter, I went inside, but it was nowhere to be seen. Had I left too much slack in the collar? Or had I underestimated Alumi's strength? It didn't matter which. I just needed to look for it.

"Alumi." I figured there was a fair chance that a dog as overly friendly as Alumi would come when I called, even if I wasn't its owner. The dog might not come back, but as long as I got a reply, I could run to wherever it was. No matter how long I waited though, I neither heard nor saw any sign of the dog. I entered the treeine and began to search. I looked hard for anything. If not alumi, then at least some sign it had left behind. I switched on my phone flashlight, but the beam only went so far.

"Alumi." My voice echoed out once more, but there was no reply. What could I do? What the hell should I do? As my head spun, a singular thought occurred to me. Had alumi gone back home? Dogs were supposed to have a homing instinct. Maybe being dragged here by me, a stranger, had awakened the strength in Alumi to escape its collar and get back home. That would

be ideal, whether human or dog, I never intended to hurt anyone. I would truly never wish for such a thing.

Go back home, I prayed. Go and sleep in your doghouse with that peaceful look on your face. I mounted my bicycle and headed for Tanaka's house, praying all the way. How absurd it was for me of all people, someone who lived for no one and nothing but myself, to pray for someone else.

I reached my destination. Alumi was nowhere to be seen. On the second floor, the lights were on. Though it was wildly, horribly optimistic of me, I thought that perhaps Tanaka had gone out searching for Alumi, found the bus stop, and taken her dog back home. It wasn't impossible. There was nothing impossible about it. Or maybe since Alumi had gone missing, the dog had now been brought inside the house. Perhaps it was up on the second floor right now, playing happily with its owner. It was equally possible that Alumi had escaped the collar and gone somewhere far, far away. Even if it hadn't, perhaps it was taking a lengthy detour on the way home. It could be sneaking around some abandoned house right now. Someone else could have snatched it even. None of these were impossible scenarios, but they couldn't all be true.

I rode my bike around the area surrounding Tanaka's home, but Alumi was neither walking nor sitting anywhere. I was getting nowhere fast, but just thinking about it would get me nowhere even faster. My stomach roiled with nerves. I knew that there was little I could achieve at this hour. It would be better to search in the morning when it was light out. Still, I couldn't go home yet, so I instead made countless pointless loops between Tanaka's house and the bus stop. And by pointless, I of course meant that I accomplished absolutely nothing at all. Though I should have done so much sooner, I finally returned home, trudged up to my room, and tried my best to sleep as I always did.

On Monday morning, I set out before breakfast, telling my family it was for training. It still hadn't rained yet. I biked to Tanaka's house, but Alumi wasn't there. I thought about ringing the doorbell to inquire about the dog's well-being, but that would just make me look suspicious. I could ask later at school. With little else I could do about the situation, I just rode around the area as I had the day before. I saw plenty of dogs walking with their owners, but of course, none of them were Alumi. I went to the bus stop where I had confined them again, but they weren't there either. I'd brought the collar and leash with me in a plastic bag just in case. Where did Alumi go? And what was the dog doing now? Where might it go from there? I couldn't recall thinking about anyone else this much lately besides Chika.

Defeated, I returned home, ate breakfast, and headed for school. At the very least, Tanaka would be there, and I could confirm the situation from her in person. I figured I could just casually ask about Alumi before class started without raising any suspicion. However, when I arrived at school, there was no one sitting to my right. Even after the bell rang, the teacher arrived and first period began. I found myself irritated that she had the nerve to skip school on a day like this. I put aside the non-impossible possibility that she had skipped school because of something awful happening in her life. But soon I had nowhere to run.

I ate lunch in the cafeteria that day. As usual, the food wasn't something I was particularly interested in eating. I returned to the classroom to stare at my desk when I heard a voice. I was able to pick up on this only thanks to someone who didn't realize that a whisper was sometimes easier to hear than a normal quiet tone. "Did you hear?" "Hear what?" "I heard that Alumi died." My right knee jerked suddenly up and into my desk, robbing the rest of the classroom of sound. I didn't mean anything by it. There were probably some who looked at me, wondering what the noise was about, but I didn't meet their eyes. I just stared at the wooden top of my desk. "Wait, what?" "What?" "Of course, Alumi dead." That was all I could think. That was all I couldn't remember. I couldn't remember a thing. I couldn't remember Alumi approaching me unguarded the first time we met. I couldn't remember the times I patted Alumi on the head. I couldn't remember Alumi gobbling up the treats that I snuck it. I couldn't remember Alumi popping up to greet me the moment it heard my footsteps. I couldn't remember Alumi sniffing my arm. I couldn't remember Alumi cradled in my arms, trusting me. I couldn't remember any of that.

So from then until it was time to leave. I just sat there quietly in school. I didn't bother to cover my ears. So I heard rumors that it was a traffic accident. After school, in my usual copy-paste routine, I headed to the shoe lockers. Today, Silito, who had been assaulting me with awkward greetings every day lately, just looked at me curiously and headed silently home as she used to. I headed quietly home as well, then set out once again. I was still in my uniform. There was no point in changing. It was raining. That meant it was probably raining in Chika's world, too. I had no idea what effect I might have on her side, so I walked carefully up the stairs, umbrella out. I thought at first of ringing the bell, but I realized that doing so might summon another family member for me to have to talk to. Still, I had to call her out somehow just in case. I headed to the backyard first. There, I found Alumi's owner standing there with an umbrella, staring at the empty doghouse. I walked up to the back gate. I was sure my steps were audible, but Tanaka didn't turn around, just stared at some spot below her knees. Her back was turned to me, so I couldn't make out her expression. I called her surname clearly, but she didn't react. I called out to her one more time. Her head and waist turned slowly back, but her voice was as disconnected from her expression as Chika's was. "What? Why? Why are you here? Why are you talking to me? Why are you still alive when Alumi is dead?" I heard all those questions in her voice.

"Time to do what I had come here to do. I came here to talk to you." Tanaka gave no reaction. Even her face didn't budge an inch. I decided to continue. "I killed Alumi." Still no reaction. She just stared at me. "I came here in the middle of the night and took Alumi away. I had it tied up somewhere else, but I was too lax and it slipped the collar and escaped. That's why Alumi died."

"What?" It was a gasp of a sound that nearly disappeared into the rain. "You can report me if you like." "The hell are you saying?" Nothing moved besides her lips. "You don't have to forgive me." "You..." Her voice crackled from deep within her throat. She stared at my face. Her half-hearted lips began to tremble, which finally erupted across her whole face as she stared at me. "What the hell?" She just stared. "What the hell is wrong with you?" She flung her open umbrella at me, but it got caught on its own air resistance and fell to the ground at my feet. Tanaka crumpled to her knees on the spot, sobbing. Large raindrops fell onto her yellow t-shirt, covering it in splotches.

Leaving someone to get soaked in the rain was equal to a crime in my mind. But I had nothing more to say to the devastated girl, nor would it be helpful for me to try. So, I left the large traditional house behind. I went home and did some resistance training and ate the dinner that my mother had prepared. I looked out my window as I returned to my room and saw that the rain had stopped. I knew that the chances were next to none, but just in case, I decided to head to the bus stop. Not the one where I had kept Alumi, obviously. Coming here was basically habit at this point. So, it wasn't like I had a particularly strong desire to see Chika today or anything like that. Naturally, I did want to know whether anything had happened in her world with Alumi's passing, but by the time I opened the shelter door, I had already half-written today off, figuring we could talk about it whenever next time came. Given that, I'd expect to be shocked to see those shining eyes and fingernails there. But, as it turned out, that wasn't how I felt at all. This was the first time we met two nights in a row.

"Hey, Chika." "Hey." "Um, I figured that her response had been short to match my clipped greeting, but her next words told me that I was mistaken. 'Has anyone around you died?'" There was worry in the voice that came to me from between those eyes. Trying my best to hide how shaken I was, I sat down. "No person has died," I replied. "Why do you ask?" Chika breathed out perhaps more loudly than she needed to. "Someone died near my home. I don't know the details, but apparently a battle came to my neighborhood. Several people who fight for a living died and we had to bury them. I came here because I was worried that might have had some effect on your world." She paused there, blinking slowly. "You had a really sad expression just now." She didn't say I looked sad, just a sad expression. I wondered if that meant I'd only been slightly unsuccessful in hiding my expression, not enough that Chika could read it for certain, or if I looked so terribly sad that it was making her sad, too. Either was unforgivable. "Did something happen?" "Do we really have to talk about this?" I thought still the conversation would be meaningful if it helped us learn more about our connection. "A dog died." "A dog? That's an animal that lives with people, right? Guess I did explain that before." "Yeah, I killed it." "I see." She showed neither sorrow nor reproach. Instead, she simply asked, "Did it do something to you?" "Right." She probably assumed that I would never kill an animal unless it was too dangerous to let live. "No, it was pretty nice," I clarified. "We do have some stray dogs, but for the most part, where I'm from, like you said, they live with people. They're treated like friends or family. I killed a dog that lived with someone I know. It was innocent. It was never violent and was friendly to everyone. It was happy to even eat right out of my hand." "Then how could you do such a thing?" "Well, I abducted it and when I was away, it got into an accident. No, sorry. What I was asking was I abducted it because I wanted to see what effect it had on our worlds and it got away because I was careless." I explained the situation as best I could. Not in a way that would make Chika think it was her fault, but I didn't want to contradict anything I had told her so far. "Right. So, that's what you were talking about yesterday." She nodded once and then shook her head. "But anyway, what I was asking wasn't what you did to that dog or why." "Then what?" I looked at Chika, silent and questioning. Her voice reached my senses without her eyes fudging a millimeter. "Why did you tell me this in a way that would make me feel sorry for this dog?" There was no sound. It was quiet, no weight or sensation. And yet, it felt as though Chika's silence in the wake of that question had grabbed me by the hair. I felt like my heart was being wrenched from my body. It wasn't. That was a delusion, a creative one. "I wasn't looking for any sympathy. I was just stating the facts," I said, looking her straight in the eye. I wasn't lying. She gave one long blink and then looked down. "That must have been hard for you." "Huh? No, it wasn't. But you look like it was." "I'm telling you it wasn't. It was hard for Alumi, not me. And for the ones who lost a family member. I was the one who took their dog away." Of course, Chika had no idea who Alumi was. "I'm sure it was hard on them, too. They're the only ones it was hard on. I wasn't the one suffering." "I can't even begin to imagine that pain." That was true. She knew nothing about this. "But I realized just now while the weight of it isn't the same as what that family or dog went through, you're in pain, too." "You're wrong. I'm not." "But you look like you are." "I'm telling you, I'm not." That wasn't true. "I'm the one who killed it. I was the one at fault. I had no right to feel pain. I had no right to suffer in the slightest. Not when I could never know even a fraction of Alumi's pain or the family's sadness." Of course, I couldn't stomach hearing words that even suggested kindness toward me any favor. Not when I knew everything that I had done. "You don't know anything, Chika." Indeed, she didn't know a single thing. Chika knew nothing about Alumi and didn't need empty consolations from someone like her. "Stop it." My request was sincere. "I feel like you're going down a bad path, Ka." She said, "You're right. I suck. So, I just don't want you to take yourself somewhere even more tragic. Stop it." I didn't want to hear that from her. She was wrong. What I wanted to hear, what she should have done, was to criticize me. I couldn't bear for any other words to reach my heart. I could not possibly accept this kindness. "You can just be here. But I killed Alumi. I was a bad person, a dreadful person. I wasn't the sort of person you should speak kind words to, who you should extend a helping hand to. I knew that better than anyone. So please, Chika, stop it." "No matter how twisted of a thing you've become in your own world, when you're here, you're still you." "Why?" I was fully aware of my own sin and that I ought to be judged. And yet, I also knew that I was a disgustingly weak, basic person. I couldn't help myself. Weak people, even knowing with all their hearts that they ought to be punished, will still look to those who offer their hand in the hopes that it might make things just a little bit better. Pitiful. So I begged her silently to stop this before I turned my weak, greedy eyes to the grace that was being offered to me and began yearning to cling to it, to those invisible hands that were reaching out from Chika's heart. I wanted to take her hand, but I knew that if I did, so many precious things would end. The alarm bells in my heart keened. I couldn't look at her. I couldn't take her hand. I covered my ears and heard sirens ringing. And yet, even so, and still, I felt like I was suffocating. I never hesitated to act when it came to the motions of daily life. detached from like, dislike, interest, dispassion, whether or not something benefited me, and any similar concepts. Such was my guiding philosophy, whether eating or sleeping or running or breathing. I was weak, weak, weak. So incredibly weak. I saw her hand. Alumi was and suddenly I took it. I knew exactly how pitiful I was, but I could not stop myself from speaking. "Alumi was a good dog." "Are you sad that it's gone?" I shook my head. "Not as sad as its owner." "Still, if you're sad, then you should admit those feelings." My words continued spilling from my mouth aimlessly. "I am sad. Yeah, I'm really sad. Alumi let its guard down around me. It should have barked and called for help, but it didn't. And that's why I killed it." "You can't forgive yourself, can you?" "I can't." "Well, then I forgive you." This girl made of only eyes and nails. Two years my senior, offered those simple words to me. Chika was made only of eyes and nails. But somehow the words she had set down between us were soft and sweet. "It might not mean anything to you, but I forgive you truly." "I don't need to be forgiven. I don't deserve that kindness." "Ka." She blinked long and slow as she did whenever she apologized. "This isn't kindness." The two lights pierced through my soul. "I want to forgive you." I stood by and watched as the people who worked to ensure our way of life were killed. The more seriously I consider it, the less I understand what I should think of the being I know as myself. And so I want to do whatever I can. "I want to forgive you." Her voice was filled with melancholy as though she was holding something beautiful and delicate. Unable to ignore that ephemeral voice, I immediately popped those soft, sweet words between us into my mouth and devoured them. In that case, I swallowed. "I forgive you, Chika." I had no idea that those words would linger there inside me and never leave. Or rather, maybe I did know. Perhaps for a moment I even thought that I was fine with that. "I want to forgive you, too. Guess we'll be sharing the same sin. That's fine." Though I could only see her eyes, it seemed she was neither happy nor sad. "I want to share the burden together." We could only share things with our voices. We only had the faintest picture of each other's worlds and values. Here we were daring to pardon one another from totally different worlds. It was only forgiveness and yet it was odd. Somehow, ever so slightly, it felt easier to breathe. "If you're fine with it, then let's do that," she said. As she spoke, I suddenly realized something. I finally realized it. Perhaps she could not change my life. Perhaps she only existed for this weak, pitiful version of me. There was someone who would forgive me so I could accomplish my goals in this world just as I was right here. And if she wasn't here, I would have stopped being myself. I would be crushed, suffocated, and terrified by the idea of being a normal, boring human. Looking back, Chika never guided nor persuaded nor criticized me. She was simply there, sharing her thoughts for her own sake. And she permitted me to be just as I was, too. Perhaps that was the only meaning there was. Perhaps her entire presence in my life was simply meant to support me. That had to be it. Thinking about it, it was simple. I looked straight into her eyes as I had when we first met. In that moment, I was sure it was fine to simply stare, no meaning behind it. Deep in my heart, I felt saved by the fact that her eyes and nails were there looking only at me. I had thought that people could never save each other. It felt like a fragment of those soft, sweet words had caught in my throat, but I swallowed it back down, ignoring it. "Thank you." I had not intended to speak, but again, the words spilled from my mouth. "Thank you for being here for me. You brought me back." There is surely a mass to one's true heart. Something that your lips cannot bear the weight of that comes rolling out in front of others. That weight increases all the more when it's an emotion you've never once felt before. I had never been so happy just to have someone there for me. Never before had such a trivial thing brought me such joy. "Just having you around has brought me closer to my goals." "Sorry for being so loud earlier." I lowered my head, penitent. If I wanted to accomplish anything, I couldn't wallow in regret and sorrow. I could repent for what I had done, but it would never be enough. No number of apologies to Alumi would ever make up for what I'd done. Thus, there was no point in dwelling on it. Alumi was dead. Rather than sit around mourning, I had to fulfill my purpose. That was the most just thing I could do. Thinking about it, what happened with Alumi might have just been a symbolic event. Grieving Alumi's death was nothing but egoism, as was fretting over Eizumi's suicide attempt. Figning some heroic mourning over only your visible sins, was nothing but a lie. If you averted your eyes from the sins that others could not see, I had taken away something special from so many other people in my quest to make myself special. I had stolen food from the mouths of so many others to live. That's how humans live, ignoring what they cannot see. That's why wars exist. No matter what world you live in, I could spend my entire life wanting to be forgiven by everyone I'd ever hurt, and it would never be enough. I was fully aware of this, but there was nothing that I, a single weak individual, could do about it. If Chika was there, though, it was different. With Chika there willing to forgive me, I could still fight. I could resist my own boring life being stolen away. Chika could save me. I could no longer deny that Chika was more to me than just a resident of another world. Yet, I couldn't figure out what she would call what I was feeling. Still, that had nothing to do with my purpose, nor with Chika. Nothing could replace the fact that Chika was here with me. But the moment I recognized that fact, worries bubbled up to the front of my mind. Just having Chika here helped me breathe. But I couldn't think of a single way in which my being here helped Chika. I had to repay her somehow. I looked deeply into her eyes. After several more blinks, she spoke. "Pain probably has a big influence." "Pain?" "Yeah. We can't know whose actions came first, but lives have been impacted around us both. Lightning struck and a tree was hurt. Injuries are the same. So being hurt, being broken has an effect." "I can't remember. Did my accessory breaking have any effect on you?" "This is the first time hearing about it." Oh, she chuckled at her own mistake. "Should we find out if that kind of thing will help you fulfill your purpose?" "No, let's leave it aside for now," I said, refusing a proposal that I would have leapt at immediately before now. All I wanted to do today was prove to myself that the conclusions I just came to about myself were true. And so my next words were not directed toward Chika. "Meeting you was my purpose." I stared silently into her eyes. She looked back at me, unblinking. "I can't say that I won't one day try out what you suggested. But for now, I just want to hear about you, Chika." She gave several short blinks. Then her eyes slowly narrowed. "Sure thing. Next time we meet, let's not talk about the world or anything. Let's just talk about me and you." "That sounds good to me." Promises were nothing but a curse. But just this once, I could with genuine joy nod my head and say, "Yeah, let's." From the way she was speaking, I assumed the siren would be ringing soon. So, I had replied with similar finality, but that wasn't the case. "Okay," she said. "I better get going. My family's going to be worried." She stood up, oddly, not making the sour face she usually did toward the siren. My confusion must have been obvious on my face. "There wasn't any war today," she explained. "All those people died, though, so I got worried about you. I was shocked. I don't know if my coming here changed anything, but I'm glad I got to see some of those clouds hovering over your head blow away." I was surprised that Chika would do something purely for my sake with no benefit to herself. I was happy, of course, but I also felt that something dreadful might happen if I took this fact at pure face value. So, the next words that rolled out of my mouth were rather absurd. "Do you?" "Yeah. Do you know everything I'm feeling?" I wondered if she knew my feelings. All the emotions that I felt toward her that I couldn't place. I immediately regretted asking, although I truly did have some suspicions, but Chika just shook her head. "Obviously, I can't know what's in someone else's heart, so please tell me." If I had to mush my heart up and summarize it in a single phrase, I think I like you, Chika. By the time I realized what I was saying, it was already too late. "Thanks. I like you, too, Ka." "All right. See you." "Oh, sure. See you. Try not to get caught." I could tell by her response that she hadn't understood the gist of what I was saying at all, which was a huge relief. The lights of her eyes and nails disappeared into the darkness. I had no idea how much effect both our willpower had on our connection. In that same ignorance, I no longer simply wanted to see her again. I was determined to see her again. That was why I had made that promise. Even so, how could I possibly say something like that out of nowhere? I knew that thinking about it would only make me want to claw my own chest open. So, I swiftly put it out of my mind and left. When I opened the shelter door, a light rain was falling. If Chika's hypothesis that getting hurt had a mutual effect was correct, if I caught a cold, then Chika might catch one, too. I hurried home. Our promise to tell one another about ourselves the next time we met would never come true.

There are things that we as humans cannot accomplish by our wills alone. The greatest, most irresistible force in the world is death. There are many different reasons why we cannot escape the inevitability of our own deaths. What else could there be besides death, then? Illness perhaps, maybe since we cannot escape it, we say illness is born of the mind. What of old age? Then it is perhaps because it is unavoidable that we fear it so direly. There are other things as well, such as accidents born of human stupidity.

It was early morning. I was shaken awake by a loud noise. I couldn't react immediately upon waking. I leapt up, looking around the dark room, but the moment the obvious notion of turning on a light occurred to me, I felt something sharp in the soles of my feet. Ow! I flinched at the stabbing sensation. Finally, I realized that the sound I'd heard was glass breaking. I sat up in bed, pulling out the fragments that had lodged themselves in my feet. I set my pillows down on the floor as stepping stones to protect myself from further damage and managed to make it across the room to the light switch. As I expected when I turned on the light, I was greeted by a room covered in glass. I cursed the fact that I rarely slept with my curtains closed. The floor was now littered with not only glass, but also some of my CDs. Near the glass, there was some sort of metal plate. I didn't have anything like that in my room, so it must have been what came in through the window. Just as I was wondering what the hell it was, someone knocked on my door.

"Ka, everything all right?" Hearing my brother, I vacantly opened the door. "Something just came in through my window." I showed him the palm-sized metal plate, which he looked at curiously. Neither of us had any clue what it was, so we set about cleaning the place up. My brother went around with a broom and dustpan, then helped me tape some cardboard up over the shattered window. As I picked up my CDs, I found that two of their cases had broken, like they had fallen in some awkward way. They were ones I'd listened to at some point and just randomly put down. It was fine, though. The collar I'd bought for Alumi was still in its place on the shelf. I tried my best not to think about it, but that was similarly impossible for a human to do. So, a single worry bloated into my mind. How will this affect Chika? Of course, my worry for her safety was first and foremost. But even if she herself was safe, she and I held our rooms in a very different regard. I was gripped by her hypothesis that pain could affect the other reality. That said, even if it did have some effect on her room, as long as it was nothing more consequential than what had happened in mine, like some old CDs getting broken or something, that was fine. I didn't care if my room got a little messed up. As long as there were no life-threatening injuries, things would be okay. Still, I didn't want to see her sad. I truly felt that for her, this girl who was nothing more than eyes and nails. I was worried, but for the moment I could do nothing but pray for the safety of her in her room. I straightened up the books and CDs I had left in careless stacks, thinking it might even have some positive effect on her surroundings. I slept a little longer in the now well-ventilated room and then told my parents about the window in the morning. When I showed my father the metal plate, he said, almost half doubting himself, "Is that a piece of an airplane?" Whether or not that was true, it was not an unreasonable thought. No matter how peaceful our daily lives were, we were still in a country that was racked by war. It wouldn't be too surprising if some random airplane had been less than properly maintained.

When I arrived at school, my neighbor Tanaka was already in her seat and talking to some other students. She spared me not so much as a glance. I had suspected she might actually throw something at me, but that didn't happen. I had already prepared myself to try and accept anything that came my way, but there was nothing. First and second periods passed as though nothing had happened to anyone. I had a single hypothesis. Perhaps Tanaka had decided that I had never been anything more than a random face in the crowd, someone unworthy of recognition, just one of the many you pass on the street. In doing so, the person who killed Alumi no longer existed. Perhaps that was a way of managing her hatred. In fact, when it came time to pass a stack of handouts my way, Tanaka did so without hesitation. If my hypothesis was correct, then it had finally happened. I realized the girl who sat beside me had finally ceased to acknowledge me as an individual. Finally, we were equals. Even if it was meaningless, it was for the best. This way, we could both just live our own separate lives.

I went home, went running as I always did, and when night fell, I headed for the bus stop. Chika was not there. I was worried about Chika's room. But the timing of our meetings wasn't something I could control. Or even if I could somehow, we still didn't understand the rules. All I could do was wait patiently as always. I was prepared for that. But 3 days passed and then five, then a week, 2 weeks, and by the time my window had been fully repaired and school moved into summer vacation, my patience was more than running out. What if she had gotten hurt? What if she had lost something important to her? No. What if, completely unrelated to the room incident, Chika hadn't merely given up on me? Had I said something I should not have last time? No. My words couldn't have been unwanted when she didn't even understand them. The flames of anxiety took a million fiery forms in my heart. I couldn't let myself even imagine that we might never meet again. I think I was successful to some extent. I knew it would do nothing but wear me down. But every night as I opened the door, I prayed with every fiber of my being and my whole heart that I would see her there. Thus, when I finally saw the lights of her eyes one night, I practically collapsed onto the bench, slamming my hands when I sat down with unnatural force. "Oh, sorry," I quickly apologized, not wanting her to worry for my physical health. If anything, I was filled with relief right now. I was sure there was a bit of joy somewhere in my tone. "It's fine," Chika said, but nothing more. I wish I'd had the subtlety to sense something from her tone, and perhaps I normally would have, but that day I was overwhelmed with a sense of relief and joy. "I've been worried about you," I said. "Glad you're safe, though. Something came in through the window of my room, so I was worried that you'd been hurt." "I'm fine." She wasn't facing me. I thought nothing of it. "I'm super glad." She ignored my words. There are limits to a person's stupidity. But it wasn't until I noticed how little she was speaking today and leaned forward, peeking at her invisible face, that I was finally stricken with a sense of unease. I could not immediately place where that unease came from. But when Chika noticed what I was doing and turned toward me, I finally knew. "Chika, what's wrong with your eyes?" "Huh? The lights in your eyes are dim." It was, as I said, looking closely, the light of her eyes appeared fainter than usual. It was the sort of color shift you'd expect from someone quickly wiping up some fluorescent paint. She reacted oddly to this, turning away from me almost immediately. Then, as though she realized there was no point in hiding what I had already noticed, Chika looked back at me. I could sense her emotions just from the movement of her eyes. "It's fine. They'll be back to normal soon." "Wait, so did you get hurt?" Though somewhere deep down I was hesitant to ask. When I thought of how she had averted her eyes, worry won out. "Hurt?" Well, her words came slowly, a second between each of them, and I suddenly deeply regretted that I had asked at all. At a certain point, I almost said, "Never mind, it's fine." But I was beaten to the chase. "Ka, when people cry in your world, do their eyes swell up?" "Uh, yeah, that's that's what this is." She had been crying. However, tears weren't always caused by grief. As I listened to her, before I could feel sympathy or worry, I imagined the sight of tears rolling down her cheeks, reflecting the light from her eyes. It was beautiful. But I soon regretted those thoughts when I realized that these might be tears of deep sadness. "Was anything broken in your room?" I asked. She did not immediately reply. The amount of time between a question and an answer was a good indicator of the answerer's intentions. I could only wait. The unusually fragile lights of her eyes seemed to quiver silently. "your room." She said, "Hm, your room was fine besides the window." "Oh, yeah. It just shattered, so it was fine." "I see. Well, then I have no idea how these effects work. It's gone." "What was gone?" Someone? Something? As I searched for a reply, before I could even ask, she clarified, "My room is gone." "What? There was nothing left." "When you say nothing." She wasn't exaggerating, was she? If so, I was stunned to hear that the damage had been so extreme, especially when so little had happened to my room. I thought of a house I had once seen on TV that had burned to the ground in a fire. But I was sure that wasn't the right way to picture this. What could have happened? Was it raining airplane debris like in my room? Was it the war? Had it burned down, been destroyed, ransacked? I was staring at the side of Chika's face as I considered how to reply. So all of my shallow thoughts were washed away with the next surprise. I knew now that Chika's cheeks and chin were the same as a human's were. I'd been picturing it all wrong. The lights were flowing. Her tears weren't reflecting the lights of her eyes. Rather, the light was falling with the tears. With every drop, the lights in her eyes grew ever so slightly dimmer. "Chika," I said, though I had prepared no words of comfort or courage, I merely feared the silence. She turned her face to me. I had been the one to say something, so I had to take the initiative to speak. "Can I ask what happened?" "Sure." She had more than enough reason to refuse this, but she nodded and explained. As expected, it was the war. Lately, the wars had been spreading to the region Chika lived in, which is not normally used for skirmishes. This was why those career soldiers had died nearby around the same time that Alumi died. As she had mentioned, the fighting had suddenly made it to her house. Chika hadn't been given any details and hadn't been able to find much out. It was only a rumor, but from what she'd heard, the soldiers of her country had been using weapons that prioritized killing the enemy over protecting the livelihoods of their citizens. So, they'd done extensive damages to the residences. When she exited the safe house she'd been in at the time, Chika returned home to find her room with the wall blown in, the interior destroyed. "I wonder if someone might have used it as their hiding place during the fighting." I meant to say that perhaps it wasn't on purpose. Perhaps it had helped save someone's life, that maybe she was just lucky that the fighting hadn't made it to her home before. But still, whatever. Her whisper sounded like a scream, like if she didn't stifle it, she might rip herself apart in her grief. "My whole world is gone." Another droplet of light spilled down from the weak light of her eyes and dripped from her chin. I couldn't say anything at first. I simply didn't know what to say. I had never lost anything that important. Never lost my whole world. Losing Alumi might have come close, but at least I had come back from that. It broke my heart. I felt horrible pain in the face of such immeasurable grief. Still, there was no point in telling her that I was hurting along with her when there was no way I could possibly empathize. So, I repressed it as best I could. Hopefully, she wouldn't be able to tell from my expression or tone. What could I say to her? What could I do? I thought about it, but no matter what I did, I couldn't give Chika her room back, nor could I give her back the world that had existed inside it. I wished I knew even just one thing that Chika might want. But no matter what I gave her, it would do nothing to cover the stain of her grief. I was utterly powerless. Still, "I'm glad you're safe." I thought I could be forgiven for saying that much, but I soon realized I was fundamentally mistaken. A war was not a natural disaster. It wasn't the sort of thing that was unavoidable no matter what humans did. It was born of human stupidity. There was no reason for it to happen in the first place. It wasn't the sort of thing where you could be happy as long as you were safe. Moreover, for Chika, the only thing that truly counted as living was getting to enjoy the things she loved. Simply making it out alive meant nothing. "Please don't die, Chika." My fears burst through my chest, spilling out as words. Before I had a chance to regret them, Chika shook her head. "I won't die," she said, even without seeing her expression. I knew there was little resolve to that denial. "But now I don't know where I'm supposed to live." Neither did I. How could I? When I still didn't even know where I could live or even what the point was. "I'm sure you aren't in the mood to think about it right now, but can your room be rebuilt?" "I I don't really know the details, but it seems like repairs are going to be a problem for a while because of the war. I'm staying at the house of a nearby relative right now, but when you have somewhere to stay, the government tends to put off doing repairs. It's stupid, right? This isn't living." "What about your room at the place you're staying now?" "I don't have one. They said we don't need our own rooms just to live." The sadness of losing her world. The despair of seeing that world swept up in circumstances she could do nothing about. Those emotions stained her words deep and heavy. I thought, and the thought struck my heart so hard I felt it might shatter. How wonderful it would be if we were in the same world right now. If I could actually reach my hand out and save her. If only I were in her world and could stand beside her in the face of the destruction. Even if I couldn't rebuild her room. Even if I couldn't stop the wars. Delusions, fantasies, and daydreams were worthless. Delusions, fantasies, and daydreams could never bring Chika's room back to life. All we had was reality. Right now, she and I were here and living in our separate worlds. We couldn't travel to each other's worlds. Even if it were somehow possible, we still didn't know how. All we did know right now was that there were two worlds and that they somehow affected each other. That was all.

"Hey." A sound I'd never heard before started ringing in my head. "If the war ended, could your house be fixed?" "I mean, if there was an obvious victory, the next war probably wouldn't start right away. Even if the war didn't end, maybe it could happen if it kept raining. But I'll be waiting a while for either the war to end or a monsoon to come." It was just a question that had popped into my mind, but it gave me strength. "Are there no other times when they stop the war?" I worried that I might make her mad. I figured she might tell me not to insult her or not to make light of someone else's problems or not to try to sympathize when it had nothing to do with me. "I guess when there's some illness running rampant amongst the fighters or..." Still the thought that I would do anything for Chika was real. There wasn't the slightest lie in my desire to repay Chika, the one who had saved me just by being there. "...or when the siren hasn't rung on time, right?" "You said it was basically sacred." "It is. It rarely happens, but there have been a few times when the siren hasn't rung on time. Like you said, it's sacred, so there's no replacement for it. And when it's in bad condition, it takes some time to restore it. They don't have a war on those days." "And what if the siren was broken?" "It's protected, so breaking it would be impossible. But I read that it's super old and mechanically complicated. So it would be fairly impossible to make a new one now." "I see." A thought suddenly occurred. That thought grew into an intention. That's how people chose their actions. This might be it. "Huh? This might just be it. Perhaps it all boiled down to this singular purpose. Something I can do." "What are you?" "The reason our worlds are connected." "Uh huh." I ignored her bewilderment, blinded by the brilliant light that was shining from within me. I immediately apologized and tried to play it off. I don't know if she was convinced, but she at least pretended to be. That was fine for now. I didn't want to get her hopes up pointlessly. I'd tell her next time. If what I was thinking was correct, we could rejoice then. And if I was wrong, we could just try to figure out a different tactic. I thought that was how I felt, but I was only fooling myself. In truth, I knew that I wasn't wrong. I knew that this wasn't a delusion or fantasy or even a mere daydream. If only, if only I could stop the wars in her world, that would give meaning to all of this. That was how strong my will was at that moment. An impact. Chika had saved me from my despair, so I believed I could rescue her from hers. Though maybe that was just my hope. Breaking the siren. If I could break the equivalent of the siren in this world, then I was sure there was a good chance the untouchable siren in Chika's world would break, too. I thought about the question of whether our shared influence was between Chika and myself or between the places we were in. That had become a hot topic of debate between us. I'd been a proponent of the place theory. But now that I considered the leg injury, the hole in the sock, and the most recent room incident, I began to rather hotly agree that it might in fact be the two of us that connected our worlds. If that were the case, then just as with Alumi, it should be simple for me to find this world's version of the siren. There was only one thing that I heard day after day that governed my actions. The bell, the school bell. I was afraid that I would be committing another sin by going through with this plan. Still, breaking the bell wouldn't kill anyone. On the contrary, doing it might save lives. It would take me a day to get the tools together, then two more days to attempt to sneak into the school and observe the guards and the teachers who stayed late to do overtime. I was fully aware that I would be found, apprehended, and rebuked for this. So, I should have just gone into action immediately, but the operation would be fruitless if I were

interrupted before achieving my goal. I couldn't skimp on preparations. I didn't see Chika again before the day of the mission. My days were cookie cutter copies of one another.

In the meantime, I investigated how to break broadcast devices, but I also looked into the punishments that had been given to idiots who had attempted similar things in the past. Essentially, Chika was always on my mind, and that was all I could have hoped for. I hadn't the slightest illusion that what I was about to do was wrong. Still, I felt rather sorry for my family. My boring but well-meaning family had no idea that their weak-hearted son was about to cause a commotion at school. There would be, if nothing else, calls from the school and harsh warnings, and the inquisitive gazes and distrust of this son would soon turn my family's way. This was no cause for happiness. Thinking about it though, it was no different from what had happened with Alumi. Only in this case, the family being disrupted was my own. Humans lived by causing trouble for others, by hurting others. I had to accept that, move past it, and achieve what I set out to do. All for the sake of something much more important.

"Thanks for the food," I said as I finished my dinner that night and stood up from my seat. My mother replied with the standard response for when her children thanked her. You're welcome. I naturally returned an Mhm. My brother's voice lagging slightly after. It was a perfectly routine day. I thought it strange that everyone was fine with carrying on every single day like this when no one truly found it entertaining.

"Oh, right, Ka," my mother called just as I headed to my room. I looked back to see her gazing at me. Mackerel Nambbanskeet pinched between her chopsticks. The TV was switched off. Music flowed from the radio in the background. "I talked to your grandma on the phone today. She really wants to see you. She's worried about the war, but she still wants us to come out for Oon or something."

"I'll think about it."

"That's not really something you should have to think about," she said with a weary laugh, biting her mackerel. "It's good to show a little respect for your grandmother now and then."

Respecting my elders was not one of my top priorities, but I got the feeling that if my grandmother knew what I was about to do, she wouldn't want to see me anyway. I said, "I'll think about it once more," then started up to my room. I heard a, "You must get that from me." Called out from behind me. While I was thankful to her for raising me, I had my doubts about how much heredity and DNA really defined a person.

After resting for an hour in my room, I went out, as always, empty-handed this time. I would be sneaking back out in the middle of the night when it was time for the mission to properly begin. I walked to the bus stop, as I always did, and confirmed that Chika wasn't there. Instead, I just sat silently alone in the shelter. Well, not just. I was thinking about Chika. I wasn't thinking about who she was or about the reason I had met her. I was just thinking about her. The time passed quickly and I returned home without anything notable occurring.

At the stroke of midnight, once silence had fallen in my home, I once more stepped out of my room, a bag full of tools on my back. The hallway was quiet. I wondered if my brother might still be awake, but there were no lights on in his room. I made my way down the stairs and headed straight for the front door. I'd intended to set right out from there, but as I reached my foot out for my sneaker, something suddenly popped into my head. I was lost. I hadn't accounted for this. However, just in case there was even the slightest possibility, I turned toward the living room. There by my family's usual gathering spot was my radio from elementary school. I picked it up and headed back to the front door. This time I put my sneakers on and slipped out the door, careful not to wake my family. I had a feeling someone was going to call out from behind me, but this turned out to be a groundless fear. I stepped outside and locked the door. The night air slowly filled my lungs. My body felt light. That feeling raised my spirits even more. I put the backpack and radio into my bike basket and set off.

Along the way, I stopped by a dumping ground behind one of the abandoned houses. I smashed the old radio on the concrete, certain by how the parts flew out of it that it was broken. They made a loud sound, but I hadn't seen anyone else passing by. I once again mounted my bike.

It really was lucky for me that our high school was an older public school. Its security systems not at all up to date. Obviously, breaking a window or something would instantly set off an alarm, but my work would be over in a flash. Specifically, I would climb over the back fence behind the first floor broadcast room, smash a window, and break the broadcast equipment. That was all there was to it. I was fully prepared to face the alarms and the security cameras. I didn't intend to run from my crime. I was doing this for someone important to me. There was nothing to be ashamed of. It was fine if what I was doing was considered a crime in this world. I hadn't even the slightest inkling that stopping the war in her world would stop the war in mine. That much didn't even matter to me. Instead, I moved my body, thinking only of Chika.

I followed the fence around the school and reached my intended destination. I parked my bike, took a small hatchet out of my pack, and flung it onto the school grounds, then hopped over the fence. I picked up the hatchet and checked my watch. I had no idea if this would all go according to plan. I might even make some grievous error. Still, I was going to follow through. I couldn't help but feel elated. I faced the window and readied my hatchet. I was not at all nervous about sneaking into the school at night, breaking a window, and doing something worse from there. There was one thing, only one thing in my heart right now. Something that excited me. Something I desperately hoped and wished for. I might just get to be Chika's hero. Reflected in the window under the moonlight, I saw my own bright smile. And then I brought the hatchet down.

"You should never run when you're desperate to see someone," I felt. The delusion that my feelings would be dispersed through the vibrations of my body, my ragged breath, and my flowing sweat felt all too tangible. I breathed as shallowly as possible so as not to let my feelings escape with the carbon dioxide flowing past my lips.

Now I walked quietly to the bus stop where I always met with Chica. The only sounds I heard were my own footsteps and the branches rustling in the wind. I had abandoned my bike at the bus stop where I'd detained Alumi. The plan had gone smoothly. I enacted it swiftly and ran. Of course, the school was probably in an uproar by now, and perhaps they already knew who the culprit was. Still, at that moment, that commotion was of no concern to me, nor this place. By my reckoning, if the bell and the siren did in fact have some influence on one another, I didn't need to destroy it entirely. The sock and the shoe, the window, and the whole room. Alumi and the dozens of people. There was clearly a difference between the destruction in this world and that in Chikas. A small bit of damage here became much larger there, destroying people and things. As for injuries, Chaz might have simply been more severe due to her physical strength and the surface area of her body. This was naturally an optimistic assumption, but I believed it, baseless as it was. My plan safely concluded. All I wanted now was to see Chica. While it was another optimistic assumption, I got the feeling I would be seeing her again very soon. A tinge of ultramarine was spreading across the sky. I had never headed for the bus stop at this hour. What would I say to Chica if she was there? I hoped she'd laugh. I hoped she'd be happy. Such were the thoughts that crossed my mind as I reached the bus stop. Wearier than I realized. I wrapped my fingers around the handle of the sliding door, then let go. I grabbed it once more and pulled the door straight open.

Chikawa was there. How? Though I'd fully expected to see her, the question still slipped out of my mouth. How? At a time like this, how were my wishes already coming true? How?

"I really wanted to see you."

"Me, too. This was not a lie. I didn't think you'd really come, though," she said.

"Neither did I." I sat down on the bench. My thigh muscles were stiff, probably from pedaling at full tilt earlier. I looked at Chika. There was a different emotion in her eyes than usual. I couldn't read it clearly, but she seemed almost shaken.

"Ka!" she started. Her voice was trembling. I wondered if something had happened to make her cry. As I worried over this, she blinked a few times and then uttered the siren. It broke. All the strength flooded out of my body. The stiffness of my muscles, the nerves that I realized I'd been feeling, my anxieties and worries all fled from me at once, and I nearly collapsed on the spot. Nothing left in my body to support me. However, something else soon filled my heart, propping me up like a backup power source, and my mouth moved.

"Good. It worked."

Chica's eyes went wide. "Ka, you did this?"

"Well, I mean, actually, I came here because I wondered if you had."

"Yeah, I did. My hypothesis was right. I broke something that corresponded to the siren before I came here. I hope it wasn't anything too important."

"No, it was something pretty trivial in this world. Though, I might get in a bit of trouble for it. There's a chance I might not get to come here for a couple of weeks. Still, I'm glad it worked."

Chica didn't blink. "Will this stop the war?" I asked. I saw her nod. That split second was the happiest of my life.

"There won't be any wars for a while starting tomorrow. That's what we were told."

"What about your house?"

"They said that the damaged homes will be repaired while the fighting's off."

"I'm really glad to hear that." My heart was filled with joy. Chika's room would be restored. Chika's world would be restored. Chika's reason to live would be restored. Chika wouldn't have to be sad. I was truly thrilled. And yet, why did I hear neither relief nor joy in Chika's voice?

"Ka." Her voice was horsearo as she spoke my name. "Why?" A worst case scenario suddenly flashed into my head. What if I had been overeager in my actions? I had broken the bell, aiming for the siren without consulting Chika. But what if that siren, regarded as sacred in her world, was important to Chika? I had been assuming that Shika, who was interested in little outside of herself, wouldn't care about the sacredness of this spell. But what if I was mistaken? Suddenly, I was overcome with worry.

"What? What? What?" She seemed to have difficulty getting the words out, her lips perhaps trembling. I gulped audibly and waited for her to articulate.

"Ka."

"Yeah."

"What can I possibly do for you?" What came from her were meaningless words fully beyond anything I had predicted.

"Huh? You did something to protect my world. What can I possibly do for you?" She gave a long blink. A droplet of light fell from where her eyes were.

"No. Uh, what? No, Chica. I'm sorry if I made you sad."

"I'm not sad." Those words were the most powerful I had ever heard out of her mouth. But that didn't matter as long as she wasn't sad.

"I'm glad then."

"Why? Why would you do that for me? Someone in a completely different world. For Chika, whose experiences I would never truly share, whose body I couldn't even fully see. As I thought about it, only one reason came to mind. Because I wanted you to be happy."

I heard her sharply inhale. "Ka."

"Yeah."

"I'll do whatever you want. I tilted my head. If there's anything at all you want to know about my world, I'll tell you. I want to pay back what you did for me in any way I can. Your precious kindness deserves some reward."

"Oh, I see." I finally realized she was happy. Moreover, she had said that I was precious to her. Could there be anything better than that? Her happiness had been my goal. Could there really be anything more? There couldn't be. Still, something was bothering me. There was one thing that Chika had gotten wrong. My actions were not kindness. They were nothing so forthright. I needed to make that clear. My strange elation couldn't be contained. It was bleeding into intoxication. My actions and Chika's joy. Thinking about myself in that moment later with a sober mind still made me blush.

"Chika."

"Yeah."

"I do have one request. Okay, I'd like to touch you just a little. Huh? But that's nothing. That's all I want."

Chika, accepting but not fully understanding this request, nodded and stared at me. I rose off the seat and moved closer to her. We were two body widths apart, then one, and then we sat closer than we ever had before. We sat angled toward one another and for the first time our knees touched.

"If this gets uncomfortable, just say so." I waited for her to nod, then gingerly stretched my right hand out toward her invisible body. Obviously, I was not so consumed by my own lusts that I would reach for where her chest or whatever would be, assuming her body had the same structure as a human woman's. I merely wanted to confirm that she was there and I wanted to make her certain of me. I wasn't thinking that I wanted to make Chika happy with my kindness. I wasn't operating by a drive as vague as that. I wouldn't fool myself anymore. I had done it because Chika was special to me. I treasured the things she said and the things she thought with every fiber of my being and not simply because she lived in another world. In the end, this was nothing more than my own intentions, my own ego. I wanted to make that clear to myself as well. I wanted to drill into my own skull that any sense of justice and mercy I thought I possessed were all lies.

I brushed one of her small shining nails with my fingertip. I felt her hands cold as ever. on what would be the backs of her hands if she were human. I felt humanlike tendons. I traced up her hand with my finger, finding what must be her wrist. A little farther up, I felt a soft material. I thought at first it might be a long sleeved garment, but the fabric was spread out, not encircling her arm.

"What kind of clothes are you wearing?"

"It's something that covers your whole body from the top down. It's called a beep. You might not have them in your world." Perhaps it was like a robe or a cloak. Judging by the feel, it was light and soft.

"Seriously, if you don't like this, just say so. Okay. But I mean, I don't mind being touched by you." I was both thrilled and terrified that she trusted me so much. I tenderly gripped what was probably her arm through the clothes and moved slowly up. There was a bone-like protrusion midway, probably an elbow joint. From there, her arm got a bit thicker and even farther up, I found another bony protrusion, like a shoulder.

"So, your bodies are the same as ours."

"Yeah, I can tell that from looking at you." Her eyes narrowed in amusement. As far as I could tell, that meant she was smiling. Seeing this at such close range made my heart throb. I had already achieved my goal. I could stop this now, but she didn't tell me to. My fingers trailed toward her neck. When I reached where her neck must be, I saw her eyes quiver slightly. I frantically pulled my hand away.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "I thought you were upset."

"You're so sweet, Ka." Her eyes narrowed again as she softly gripped the hand that had just been touching her. Then she guided me to her neck, to the spot I had just reached, placing my hand there with hers, like she was taming some sort of adorable creature. Her neck had a pulse just like a human's. Even if her heart flowed with glowing blood, it was a sign of life. She brought my fingers up to her chin. I felt the contour of her face. As I traced the edges, she caught laughed like she was being tickled. I felt the air of her exhalation on my fingers. I pressed one of them to her cheek, confirming it was there, but careful not to stab her with my nail before following it with my palm. Her cheek took the warmth of my palm. Though we were in different worlds, we could share heat.

Chika was there. "Hey, Chika." I couldn't think of a single excuse for my actions. Not that there was something in the air or that I was drunk or that my lips were speaking all on their own.

"What is it?" Even if I didn't say a thing, I was sure that my body temperature would convey my feelings. I stealed myself, wanting to make my intentions known.

"I doubt you understand this. and I don't intend to make you understand it. There's something I'd like to say though. Sorry in advance." She probably wondered at first what I was talking about. Still, she saw me as a treasured friend. So she put her own hand at top mine on her cheek and said, "Tell me how much courage could I possibly muster here."

"Shika, I like you."

"Yeah, I like you too, Ka."

"That's not what I mean. Rather than tilt her head, she moved her palm just slightly. I think we talked about this before. In my world, there's a concept called romance. It's different from friendship, different from family. To be honest, I don't think I could even fully define it for you. It's not the extension of some other feeling. I don't even know if it even has a clear connection with sexual attraction. But whatever it is, I feel it in my heart right now." I swallowed here because I was afraid to even breathe. "I like you in a way that qualifies as romantic. That's why I wanted to touch you. But that's something you can't understand. Just like how sometimes I can't hear the words you say. I'm sorry. That's why I wanted you to hear me out." I have no idea how pitiful my face looked then. "Sorry for being so selfish."

She caus stared at me from up close. I didn't have the awareness to fully tell what this girl was thinking when I could only see her eyes. Was she shaken? Was she afraid in the face of this unknown emotion? Or was she consumed by some other negative feeling that didn't even exist in my world? I could ponder it all. I wanted, but I would never know the truth. All I could do was wait. I stared into Chica's eyes.

"Ka." Never before had I been so nervous to hear someone speak my name. Our eyes remained locked.

"Teach me how to kiss." As I'd felt just once before, my heart gave a single echoing throb.

"What?"

"I'm sorry. Like you said, I can't understand this romance thing. Uh-huh. No matter how strong of an emotion it is, there's no way for me to comprehend it. But I want to cherish that feeling the way you do. So teach me. People kiss each other when they're having romance, right?" I was suddenly shamefully lost.

"Well, I mean, um, kissing is when you put your lips together, right?"

"I mean, it is, but she didn't take her eyes off me. So, how do I do it?"

"Um, I mean, you don't mind doing that?" I needed to get that much out of the way. "If you're forcing yourself to do this to pay me back because I broke the siren, then please don't bother."

"I'm not," she insisted. "We don't have a practice of putting our lips together. So, I don't have any feelings toward it to force myself through. I'm doing this because I value you and your feelings, but we don't have to do this if you don't want to." Saying this, she moved her hand off mine and down to her knee, entrusting herself to me. This was a concept that didn't exist in her world, a practice fully unknown to her. So, I could have come up with any reason I wanted to get out of it. But I could no longer run from my feelings for her. And I didn't want her to think even the slightest bit that I'd lied by refusing her now. No, even that was an excuse. I wanted to touch her. I wanted to get as close as I possibly could. I wanted to know how her lips felt. I was intent on doing this. My warning that I was about to start caught my throat and I could not speak.

First, with the position of her eyes as a guide, I moved my fingers from her cheek, looking for her nose. I noticed my fingers shaking.

"Is it scary?" She could feel me shivering.

"Nah. Um, no. But I guess I am scared. I don't think I can come back from this feeling."

"Is not coming back from it a bad thing?"

"Not as long as you're here."

"Well, I am here." I could tell her face was moving as her eyes narrowed. My finger slipped down from her nose and a lighted on something soft. I felt that something soft flex as her eyes returned to their usual roundness. It was probably the corners of her mouth rising and returning to normal. At first, I was simply glad to know that Chika's expression was in fact a smile desperately holding back the feeling of something strange welling up in the corners of my eyes.

"Is here on your lips okay?"

"Yeah. Okay, then close your eyes." The two lights immediately disappeared. The only thing before my eyes now was darkness. Still, I felt her. She was definitely there. From the outside, this would have been a ridiculous scene. But that didn't matter. All we needed was what was true and real to us.

"What should I do with my mouth?" she asked.

"Just keep it closed. You don't have to close it tightly, though. Just relax. This feels like when I'm sleeping." All sense of intention disappeared from my fingertips. By tracing the softness, I could tell that her lips were the same shape as a humans. There was a slight gap between the top and bottom, not closing entirely.

"Should I stay still?"

"Yeah, just wait. Just like that." If I said something as ridiculous as just wait for my lips, I would have laughed in my own face. It would have been a forced laughter to ease my own nerves, of course, and I couldn't actually laugh in that moment. I felt my heartbeat grow louder with every pounding pulse. I worried that this tension might even spread to my lips. Nervous as I was, though, I didn't intend to stop at this point. I cast aside the logical version of myself that was certain that if I stepped onto the slippery slope of intent, desire, love, and then lust, I might be dragged all the way down it.

"Okay, then. Um, if you do hate it, I'm fine," she said, cutting me off. And I said not another needless word. I was afraid I would lose my resolve if I spoke again. I moved the middle and ring finger of my right hand, which had been on her lips to her cheek. Of course, I couldn't find her lips without a landmark. So, I kept my palm on her chin, touching my thumb to the corner of her mouth. "Teach me how to kiss," she had said. There was no point in trying to explain it. I just had to do it.

"How to kiss?"

"Wait, how did you do it?" It wasn't as though I had no experience. But thinking about it, I had never once actively thought about the methodology of kissing. Should I aim for her top lip or bottom? Which of my own lips should make contact first? How forcefully and for how long? I honestly had no idea how to kiss. It probably didn't help that I had never proactively done it. I thought hard, but I really had no idea. I couldn't stand around keeping her waiting forever, though. Simply having knowledge and experience of something was hardly any different from flatout not knowing about it at all. Still, it was a bit late for dwelling on what I did and did not know. I lowered my head and took a deep breath. I looked once more to the place where Chica's face would be and brought my own face closer. What shape was I supposed to make with my mouth again? Cha had said it was like being asleep. I'd go along with that. I swallowed my spit and relaxed my lips. A small gap formed between them. Keeping position with my thumb, I moved in slowly. I tilted my head slightly so as not to run into her nose. Both of us were already perfectly silent, wordless. I wondered what she was thinking. Maybe she found this interesting as an artifact of a foreign culture. I hoped she felt something more than that, even if it was just nerves. I hoped that she felt the same way as me. My own nerves and my raging heartbeat were threatening the still darkness around us. I ignored the sound of the watch on my left wrist, and then we touched. Our upper lips collided. Chika's lips moved slightly on reflex. I held back a moment, but she didn't seem to reject it, so I chose to believe that as she had said before, she was all right with this. We took a breath together. We moved from just touching our upper lips to fitting a bit closer together until our lower lips touched as well. My whole body went numb. For several seconds, I was frozen in that position. I could feel her heat close by. At the tips of my lips, I felt a distinct warmth and moisture. With all my strength, I slid my bottom lip from Chikas, poking at her top lip. Chika gave not the slightest reaction. All I could feel were her lips, distinct from the rest of her face. The slick sensations sent electricity through my body again. I could give only the trightest of impressions. Her lips were sweet. There was nothing on the tip of my tongue, but I knew I was picking up on some sweetness. Her lips parted slightly. I wondered if this was the right time. To be honest, I hated to think that it was already over. This was our last time together in this place after all, now that the siren was broken. Still, I didn't want to annoy her. Softly, I pulled my lips, which were pinched gently around her upper lip away. In the midst of this, I had already taken my hand from her face to remove the insistent watch from my wrist and place it at top the bench. I looked at where her face should be, subtly took a deep breath, and waited until the two lights appeared as though surfacing from underwater. Nothing I wanted to say felt like it would come out right, so I just waited for her response. My heart still raced. How did she feel about this new experience? Not as a member of a species that practiced kissing, but as someone who had feelings for Chika. I just hope that she didn't find it uncomfortable.

"There was a bit of suction, huh?" Those were the first words from the lips I had just been touching. I felt my heart racing overtime, pumping blood up to my face, including her comment that it was like when you're sleeping. Chika had ended up teaching me how to kiss. How utterly pitiful.

"How was that, Ka?" she asked.

"How was it? Um, well, I doubt it would make sense to you, but I'm happy," I answered as earnestly as I possibly could, knowing that she wouldn't fully understand me. Even so, I was glad we still had time before dawn.

"As long as it wasn't unpleasant for you, I'm glad it wasn't. It just felt strange. It was like when you get too excited hugging a friend and your faces collide, but you were doing it carefully, lovingly. Of course, I'd never embraced anyone I'd call a friend, so that was beyond my experience."

"Are there any rules to it or routines?"

"No, I don't think so. But what we did just now is what they call a kiss in my world. There's no set time or force."

"No, not really. Even I could probably do it then." H no. Uh I realized that my explanation had been lacking. She seemed to have misunderstood me somewhere. Getting close and pushing your lips against someone else's was called kissing. But she must have thought that the person on the receiving end wasn't kissing just because those actions were performed upon them. Just as hurting someone and being hurt were different, there was a clear distinction between kissing and being kissed. That was very likely her train of thought. In other words, she probably assumed that she still hadn't kissed anyone yet.

"Ka, would you bring your face closer?" And now, knowing that there were no strict rules, she seemed to believe that she too could perform this kissing that she had just been taught. I had even told her that it made me happy.

"Does it mean anything to cup someone's cheek?"

"No, I was just using it as a landmark since I can't see your lips. I wonder if I've got the right impression of it then. Could you lean in this way a little bit?" It was sneaky of me, but I did exactly as she said. I hesitated to tell her that the one who receives the kiss was an equal part of the action. Her body and her lips drew nearer. I knew what was about to happen. I pretended to be surprised.

"Okay, Kaya. Okay, close your eyes." She had probably mistaken this for a rule as well. Not bothering to correct her, I shut my eyes. All my attention was focused on my lips, so I was genuinely surprised by the first sensation that came to my body. A soft, familiar material grazed my neck. Then something thin came down in the space between my neck and shoulders. I realized it was her arms. I didn't open my eyes, but not because of any rule, because I hated the thought of Chika stopping. Just as a child might try not to wake from a dream, my eyes stayed firmly shut. I felt her hands clasp behind my neck. She strengthened her grip and I relinquished myself to the gentle pull toward her. Slowly, second by second, she overlapped her lips with mine. Gently as though to seek confirmation that she wasn't doing something wrong, soft and sweet. After we were firmly pressed together, she slid her bottom lip up to touch my upper. I swiftly realized that she was imitating me. This meant that it would be over soon, I thought to my dismay. The first time I had resigned myself to it. Why couldn't I do so a second time? Before her lips left from mine, I pecked gently back at her bottom lip. Then, as if imitating me, she moved her lips and nudged back. I did the same again and got the same response. As we repeated this again and again and again, something like saliva got mixed in. Realizing this, I pulled away slightly. I said, still close enough that my trembling voice made her lips quiver. My eyes were still shut.

"Yeah, what?" Her voice, which seemed to coarse through the arms still wrapped around my neck, made my heart and brain shutter. "I realize that no matter how many times I say it, you won't understand what it means when I say I like you." I lowered my voice even though there was no one around to hear us. "Uh-huh. I know there's nothing we can do about that, but it still makes me sad. So, it's selfish of me, but I'm never going to forget the way that I feel about you right now. Even if the feeling fades or blurs or we one day stop seeing one another or even if I die and become nothing but a ghost, I will never ever forget what I feel in my heart in this moment. Please forgive me." All I had ever dreamed of was having something special, immutable for my dreary days never to return. Now, I had that here inside of me. And so, I let her know.

"I forgive you," she said. "And I'll never forget you sharing a special feeling from your world with me. I don't understand romance like you do. But I'm glad that you feel such a significant way toward me. And that's the truth."

"Why aren't we in the same world, Chica?"

"I don't know. But I hope we can cross that border one day."

"We could not live together. Chika, my dear, dear Ka, we could not be together forever. I like you, Chica."

"I know." I didn't know if she even fully understood me. I didn't even know her real name. All we could do was affirm one another's existences here in this intersection between our worlds. There were people in that world who were closer to Chika than me. There were people in that world who saw her more than I did. There were people in that world who understood her better than I did. I knew that all too well. And yet in this moment that we now shared, just being here alive, I was more connected to her than anyone else. This I believed. It wasn't an over assumption. My eyes still shut. I wrapped my arms around where her back should be. She didn't resist as I hugged tighter, pulling her close. She held me tighter as well. For the first time in my life, there was someone who I yearned to be so close to that our very beings would meld into one. And so I remained until numbness overtook my whole body.

The war in my world showed no sign of stopping. perhaps because it had been summer vacation or because they had mistaken me for someone who was usually very well behaved. The punishment I received after security camera footage identified me as the culprit wasn't extreme. Crafting a lengthy written apology, a week of house arrest, meeting with a school guidance counselor and an outside counselor as well. My father chewed me out thoroughly, and even my normally mild-mannered mother gave me a good slap. I worried that the slap might have some ill effect on Chikat, but my mother's hand hadn't left a mark on me, so I figured it should be all right. What I most regretted was that I could no longer go out shopping or running without being followed by the watchful eye of my family. My brother once caught me trying to sneak out in the middle of the night and stopped me, saying, "You'll make mom sad again." As someone who had already brought shame upon my family, I was in no position to push my way through that. Of course, it wasn't going out for runs that I was concerned about. What I wanted was to see Chika.

In the aftermath of that night, we decided some things about the future, or rather, we were at least able to establish that while the war was off, Chika would have limited opportunities to visit the safe house. Realistically speaking, we did not know when the siren would be restored and when the war would come thundering back into her life. As such, it was probably best that she spent her days getting her fill of a life free of any need to visit the safe house. Even so, I was glad to hear her say that she would still come here wanting to see me, even if it was out of nothing more than consideration for my feelings. I intended to simply bide my time quietly at home as though nothing had happened.

But at one point, when I was alone with my mother 4 days after she had first raged at me, her anger over what I had done suddenly boiled up once more. I had been in the kitchen at the time drinking some milk.

"Ka." The radio in the corner of the room, dramatically better sounding than its predecessor, was cruning. "Maybe I'm off the mark here, but it doesn't seem like you've reflected on your actions at all." For supposedly being off the mark, that was a surprisingly straight pitch.

"I have been. I feel bad for causing you trouble."

"But you haven't reflected on breaking something of the schools, have you?" I really hadn't. I did know that I'd done something bad, but if I had to do it all over again, I would do the same thing without fail. I didn't suppose that really counted as reflection. Still, immediately shaking my head at this would worry my mother all the more. As I thought about how to answer, she let out a sigh.

"If you haven't been reflecting on your actions, does that mean there's something you were trying to protect by doing that?"

"Yeah, there is," I answered honestly.

"I don't know what it is, but you're obviously certain of whatever you were doing."

"I am." It seemed my mother understood me much better than I'd expected. Still, even genetics or blood did not connect us all the way down to our souls. "You can't let yourself have such strong convictions that you convince yourself it's all right to hurt others over them." As I sat there, not replying, the DJ on the radio began playing a new song as if to fill the silence that stretched between my mother and me. "It might be impossible to avoid hurting others when you've really put your heart behind something. But if you go around intentionally causing people harm, someday you're going to end up hurting the things that you treasure, the beliefs that you're trying to protect. Those who can easily hurt strangers to help their family will one day hurt that same family to help themselves. And in the end, even they get hurt. I'm just worried you're going to end up that way."

"I see. So that was what she was getting at. But that's why I feel bad about causing trouble for you."

"Listen." As she stood there heaving a great sigh, I stood up to put the milk back in the refrigerator. I truly did feel bad about making trouble for her. But my mother knew nothing about Chika or her world. There was no way she could possibly understand why I had done what I'd done. Even if I told her that it was something worth even hurting people over, she wouldn't understand me. Plus, I had already hurt something important from my own goals, and I was learning from it, even without her trying to explain it to me. This lecture was dull and pointless.

"You realize, Ka, I'm not going to live forever." Her words caught me from behind just as I moved to return to my room.

"That's obvious. I thought everyone dies someday. That's just natural." That was the last time my mother and I spoke face to face.

The morning my week-l long grounding ended, I flew out of the house like a racehorse out of the starting gate. It took me some time to get back into my jogging rhythm, but I thankfully hadn't fallen out of shape at all. My body craved running as strongly as it did food. Cha wouldn't be around in the daytime, so it felt pointless to go to the bus stop. But I wasn't interested in seeing anyone I knew and getting weird looks. So, I headed off into the mountains. Hydrating myself as I ran, I soon reached my usual spot. I was relieved to see that the bus stop was there as always. It obviously wouldn't up and vanish, but just seeing with my own eyes the place that put my heart at ease gave me the strength to pick up running once more. By the time I got home, I was drenched with sweat. So, I took a shower, changed my clothes, and ate some soul men that my mother had made. The afternoon went roughly the same way, and before I knew it, it was nighttime. My family gave me dirty looks about going running after dinner, but they permitted me to leave under the conditions that I come home early, keep away from the school, and take my phone with me. At the very least, I didn't intend to outright violate any of these. It being August, even the evening breeze was not particularly comfortable. I felt my back prickling with sweat as I made my way down the road to the bus stop. I sipped from the water bottle my mother had made me take to avoid dehydration. I had no idea if Chica would be there, but just the possibility of a reunion made my heart leap. An expectant, bashful nervousness coursed through me. If she wasn't there, there was nothing I could do about that. While I was aware of this, somewhere deep down I was convinced that I would see her. The ridicule I lobbed at myself for acting like a basic garden variety high school boy gave me a little more room to breathe. I wrapped my fingers around the door handle and opened it to see a set of lights that existed nowhere else in the world.

"Oh, Ka, you're here." The relief in her voice mirrored all the joy and reassurance in my own heart. I closed the door, vibrating with shameful anticipation at the thought that she was actually happy to see me.

"Sorry I haven't been coming here," I replied. Then I looked at the bench. I wondered how close I ought to sit. But eventually my reason won out and I sat down at the normal distance from her. I was stuck in my house. The school punished me like I said would probably happen. Sorry if you came here while I was gone.

"I came a few times, but it's fine. I was worried it might be a long time before I saw you again. So, I'm just so happy you're here." I wanted to tell her that it made me happiest of all just to hear her say that, but my shyness stole my words. I had not yet lost enough reason that I could just do whatever my id told me as I had last time. Yes, that time. My cheeks grew hot in the darkness.

"Sorry to make you worry."

"Any news about the war?" I noticed then that all the light was back in her eyes.

"They still haven't given an estimate for when the siren will be fixed. It's slow going, but my house is being rebuilt. It's all thanks to you."

"I mean, I wouldn't say that, but I'm glad nonetheless." I'd felt guilty the entire past week, though she didn't see it that way. The last time we met, I had more or less used breaking the siren as a pretense for touching her. So, it felt bad to receive too much gratitude for it. Still, I was happy that she was happy.

"So, what did you do while you were stuck at home?"

"Nothing in particular. I wrote an apology and did some strength training. Oh, right. My mother hit me."

"Did anything happen to you? She hit you like she was violent toward you."

"Nothing happened to me, but are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah. It didn't really bother me and it was my fault anyway."

"Glad you're all right then." It was clear from her tone that she was worried, which I felt bad about. I needed to change the subject.

"So, what have you been up to?"

"I've been helping with the house repairs and collecting things to put in my new room when it's done, like some books and that scent thing I brought here before."

"Oh, nice. I know I won't get to see your room, but it's still exciting." I was glad to hear her have some optimism about her world again. Like I said, I would never get to see it, but I was excited to know that her world was being rebuilt.

"Did anything else happen?" I took a swig from my water bottle while I waited for her reply.

"Let's see. I was thinking about that kiss." I sputtered, wasting water and choking as some of it flowed into a part of my body where water should not go.

"Ka, you all right?"

"Sorry. Sorry. I'm fine." It should have been obvious, but of course, I was the only one who was embarrassed. It could be easy to forget which of our practices and contexts weren't shared.

"Wait, is it weird to go around thinking about kissing during normal life in your world?" she asked.

"Was it? I mean, I don't think it's really all that weird. My water just went down the wrong way. What a lame recovery," I thought.

"Please try to drink a little more slowly."

"Already done. Anyway, I was thinking about the kissing and well, you said that it's something that people do as a means of expressing the emotion called romance, right?"

"Yeah, usually. Anyway, well, I was kind of worried that for me to kiss you when I have no idea about romance might be considered rude in your world." She blinked once slowly. "What I said before that I want to cherish your feelings as much as you do is true. That's why I asked you about kissing because I wanted to understand more about romance even just a little. But I started wondering if I was being rude and you only went along with it because you're so nice. I'm really sorry if that's true."

"It wasn't rude," I immediately firmly declared. There was a

surprising strength to my tone. I had no idea that she had been worried about what we did. I thought it over again and realized that this was what it meant to be part of two such utterly incompatible cultures. When you want to show off your own culture, sometimes you might end up ignoring the other person's viewpoint. And when you try to respect their culture, you might worry that they find everything you're doing incredibly strange. It was quite the delicate situation. It was why wars persisted. But that much was lucky for me. It gave Chika and I a perspective we could share. It wasn't rude at all. In fact, I was worried that I took advantage of your gratitude to ask for something that doesn't exist in your culture and made it weird. I didn't dislike it at all. My gratitude then and now was completely genuine. Even if I can't understand it, I'm glad that I got to share something with you thanks to this romance thing. I I see. I'm glad, too. All I could do was blush. I'm really glad I wasn't being rude, she said. Sorry to make you worry. I really don't think there's anything you could do that would bother me. All that said, it did make me happy that Chika had been worried about the same sort of thing I was. I knew there were differences in the ways we felt, but because we understood so little about each other's alien cultures, we were both trying our best to make sense of them.

That's good. Um, well then, if you don't mind it, there are some more things I'd like to know about romance. Sure, I can tell you anything I know, I said, then immediately wondered how much I did know. Romance is like a feeling of wanting to get closer to someone, right? So, I was thinking the practice of kissing must be a way to get as close to the other person's body as possible. Something like that, I guess. I don't know the origins of kissing, but that sounds plausible. I feel like that's a big difference between romance and friendship. That it makes you happy to be both emotionally and physically close. Do you feel that way? I do. Then, let's get close. As she said this, Chica's lights moved up high. Before I could react, she got close to me, sitting at my side, so close our shoulders touched. As she sat down, our knees touched, whatever garment she was wearing sandwiched in between them. Is this bad? No, not at all. Of course, it wasn't bad. I was too shy to look her in the eye from this distance, though, so I turned to the front. what I assumed to be one of her arms was adjusting to the heat of mine. "Since you first touched me, I've been thinking about how warm you are," she said. I did think you were a bit colder than people from my world. My body temperature isn't especially low. So, I guess we're just colder overall. Though, we couldn't convey taste or smell. Heat got through just fine. I tried to keep my heart in check as I wondered what that difference might mean. My body heat might be a bit higher than usual. Is it? I'd love to be able to confirm that, but since you're the only one I can see here, there's no one else I'd be able to touch at the same time. Even if there was someone else who could see Chika, would I really be able to go along with that? I suppose I might have considered it in the past, but only before I realized my romantic feelings. Right, she continued. If you wanted, I could try bringing someone else here with me next time so we can find out whether you can see them. We might be able to tell if I'm the only one you can see. This proposal was the next logical step of our conversations, and by all rights, it was something that we probably should have tested out, but I shook my head. No, I said, seeing you is enough. What I said was true, but behind those words was the sinking feeling that Chika still didn't see me as her one and only. I suppressed the feeling lest it show on my face. If you ever do want to try, just let me know. I offer this only because I'm so grateful for all that you've done. But the part of me that treasures you feels the same way. As long as I can be with you, that's enough for me. Any petty thoughts within me were painted over by her words. What simple creatures we were, those of us who knew of romance. Chika didn't know the first thing about romantic love. And yet, every single word she chose seemed to perfectly reflect my feelings. Or perhaps it was because she knew nothing that she was able to speak words that would delight a person in love without shame. There were so many words that I couldn't say to her because I knew of the love I felt inside my heart.

Putting all that aside though, I didn't want to deny Chika's feelings of gratitude, so I offered a counter proposal. I've been thinking about it while we were apart. Well, then let me ask something of you instead. Sure. I want you to draw me a picture. Huh? But that didn't work when we tried it before. I had in fact brought a pen and notebook with me once, thinking I could get Chika to write down her language and the words that I couldn't hear. As Chika said, it had failed. She couldn't hold my notebook or pen. Well, when I tried to hand you that pen, it just fell on the ground. But remember how we were able to eat the food when we gave it to each other directly? I figure if you hold the pen while I'm also holding it, it should work. I see. That might be good to try, but you don't want to try words like last time, but a picture. Yeah. There's something I want you to draw. What? It was impossible to know whether asking for this would be rude or not, so I was prepared to say I was sorry if she found it offensive. A self-portrait? Mhm. Uh, never mind. I apologized almost on reflex as I turned to her. The first time I had ever done so from this distance. She tilted her eyes curiously. I already knew we were close, but the distance still stunned me. Why are you apologizing? Well, I I wasn't sure I could explain this, even if I was in my right mind. If I thought too hard about it, I certainly wouldn't be able to. So, I gave her the first answer that came to my lips. I just thought it might be rude of me. I've developed feelings for you without even knowing what you look like. So, it seems weird to ask for a self-portrait just so I can try to form a mental image of your appearance. I see. But, I mean, that's not why I didn't agree immediately. You really don't need to apologize to me for multiple reasons. Multiple? She lowered her gaze, hesitant. I wondered if there was some major reason why she couldn't draw a picture. Had I asked something rude of her without even realizing it? I waited for her reply, worried when she finally moved her invisible lips, still looking away. Well, I'm actually really bad at drawing, so I don't think a self-portrait would even start to capture any of my actual appearance. I don't think I could manage a picture that would give you any real impression. Not at all. I really don't think so. I know it was rude of me, but I couldn't help but let out a compounding laugh. Both at how cute it was that the worldly Chika was so bad at drawing that she'd been worried about even admitting to it, and at my own mental picture of how bad she might actually be. Naturally, I did apologize, not wanting her to hate me. Sorry, I don't mean to laugh at your shortcomings. It's just that you were so serious about it. I had apologized, but she continued to stare at me, silent, as though wounded. Crap. Was she actually angry at me this time? Still, her eyes seemed completely different from when I had heard her raise her voice in anger before. Certain that my intuition must be lacking again, as someone who'd never had a talent for reading people, I apologized once more. I really am sorry if I made you feel bad. It's fine. I don't. You'd probably just laugh more if you saw my drawings. That's not why I was quiet. I was happy. Happy. It would have been even more shocking to learn that Chikat was the sort of person who enjoyed her own shortcomings being laughed at. But that wasn't it. That was the first time I've ever seen you smile. It made me happy. Was it really? I was aware that I rarely smiled, but still in all the time we had spent together with a sense of fulfillment I had cultivated here. Had I truly never once smiled? Yeah. As far as I can remember. Anyway, I don't know how it is in your world, but here, seeing the smile of someone you treasure is a joyful thing. I was so happy at seeing it for the first time that I couldn't speak. I see. I'm not sure it's something so amazing in our world that it' leave you speechless, but yeah, seeing your smile makes me happy, too. I remembered how much joy coursed through my body when I'd been able to confirm that narrowing her eyes meant she was smiling. And now, though it wasn't enough to render me silent or reduce me to tears, I was happy to hear her say how much I meant to her as though it was natural. Well, then I'll make an effort to smile a bit more in the future. Don't force yourself, of course, but it does make me happy to see. I'll just try to keep it in mind. For the first time in my life, I was aware of my own smile. What else might this lead to? I wouldn't have any idea how bad Chica's drawings were until I saw them. And we had no idea if the experiment would even work in the first place. But we decided that I would bring a notebook and pen with me the next time I came.

Just then, my pocket vibrated. There was no one outside of my family who had my contact info and would bother to use it. I knew without looking that it was my mother texting me time to come home or something. I would normally just ignore this, but I already owed them a debt for all the trouble I had caused. Sorry, Chica. I have to get going. Where to see you leave first? That was true. I never wanted to be the first to go. Yeah, my family is calling me. I see. Hey, Ka. Knowing that my time with Chika was ending, my tension melted away in proportion to my heightened sense of regret. This was the first time I realized how much emotional and physical strength it took to be with the person you liked. My regret was real, but there was also a moment of relief. What kind of times are you supposed to kiss someone? And yet I found myself dragging that strength back at breakneck speed. I had started to look away, but she sucked my gaze right back in. What kind of times? I guess when the atmosphere and timing are just right. I don't get it. We were struggling enough just to understand each other's cultures without trying to understand things like the mood too. Okay, she continued. Are there any kinds of feelings that prompt it? Well, whenever you want to do it, I guess. Why do you eat? Because you're hungry. That was how stupid my answer sounded, but I had no idea how else to put it. Obviously, I can't feel it. But do you mean like when your romantic feelings grow really strong? Like when you feel an especially strong love for your family and really want to hug them? I had no idea. I never felt anything like that with my own family. I guess so. It's like when you love someone so much, you can't help yourself. Ka. I had never expected the flow of the conversation to go this way, but no part of me was capable of refusing her. How do you feel right now? My desire to be faithful to Chica's principles and my own selfish desire to be faithful to the love I felt were at odds with one another. So, I continued to fret, unable to separate them. But in the end, I could only give an honest answer. like I love you so much I can't help myself. Is there a limit to how many times you can kiss? No. She'd said that she didn't get it. But there they were. The timing and the atmosphere. If we both closed our eyes, it didn't matter if I couldn't see her or she couldn't see me. We found one another in that quiet darkness. Sorry for being so selfish," she said when we moved back to our original distance, echoing words I was sure I had once said myself. "I just wanted to increase the number. I thought that I might get more used to it, get better at it, but it feels like I'm just using your feelings." It would be foolish and overblown to say that she had shot right through me. As long as you didn't dislike it, I don't mind. In the end, I kept my foolish words to myself over and over again, our lips intertwined as I stayed in her embrace, once more, unable to divorce my consideration from my feelings before I headed back home. A honeymoon, I knew the word, but never did I ever think it would actually come to mind. However embarrassing though it might be, I doubted there was any word I could give that better described my time with Chika.

As summer turned to autumn, I obtained no new information of note. The two of us simply spent time together. Our time together tasted of honey condensed from nectar gathered from so many different places and times brought here to the secret hideaway. The picture drawing experiment had been a success. First, we had her hold the pen and notebook with her hands on top of mine, moving our hands together without pulling away from the items, and we managed to draw a picture. But even just thinking about the picture we drew makes me laugh, so I won't try to describe it. I had her write some words, too. But of course, I couldn't read her language. Strangely, whenever she pulled the pen away from the notebook and I took my eyes off the page, all the lines that she had written down disappeared. Capturing it with my phone camera was equally fruitless. To be honest, I had already tried secretly recording her speaking, but all that was left on the recording was my own voice talking stupidly to long gaps of nothing. Unfortunately, it seemed that capturing any phenomena between worlds was impossible. I tried memorizing the shapes of the letters she had drawn and looking them up when I got home. But all I could determine was that it was no language that existed anywhere in our world. In the end, all I had been able to ascertain via the notebook was that Chika did indeed look somewhat like a human woman and that the buildings in her world were also rectangular in structure. Even though I had been the one to request this drawing and who wanted to see it, I was somehow relieved not to actually get any more details about her appearance, it gave me full confidence that such information was extraneous to the way I cherished Chika, girl of only eyes and nails. Our days were joyful ones. The usual eventual dir of conversational topics that might usually occur between normal friends or lovers never happened with us. We never had to make conversation. Being from different worlds, our whole lives were entirely foreign to one another. And our interest never waned. There was always some new tradition, some fascinating new philosophy in every bit of information she told me. All these things and more I learned just from the sounds that came out of her mouth. It was a special time. Chika always seemed to be picturing various things from my world when we spoke. It would be a bit grandiose to say that the proof was in the pudding. But time and again, she demonstrated that she had realized things that I hadn't even told her based solely on things I'd talked about and my appearance. I'm guessing there are times in your world when there are big shifts in the temperature. The temperature? I guess it does change with the seasons. Seasons refers to a time period, right? Yeah. Oh, do you not have seasons in your world? In this world, or at least in this country, we have four types of seasons. The season we're in right now is called autumn. And the one when I met you was called winter. It's cooling down a little bit from the hot season now. And when I met you, it was cold. I see. That explains it. Explains what? I'd noticed the number of clothing layers you wear and the thickness of them changing. We change our clothing based on whether we're in a place with a high or low temperature, whether it's raining or clear, whether the sun is up or down, and based on our jobs, but not with the passage of time. So, I figured your world did have some big fluctuation of temperatures like these seasons. Oh, we change our clothes for different locations, too. But fundamentally, that follows the seasons. Obviously, I can't see it, but are you usually wearing the same sort of thing when you come here? The colors and patterns are different, but we don't have as many different varieties as you all have. I don't really own that many styles. Personally, when I come here, I'm always wearing clothes that are easy to move in. During the day, I'm usually in my school uniform. I suddenly realized that my explanation here might be lacking. Wondering if they had the concept of school uniforms in Chika's world until she said, "That's something that you wear to school, right?" Yeah. Do you have anything like that in your world? No, we just wear our normal clothes. Frankly, I was surprised. She seemed to have instantly extrapolated the function of a uniform based only on the fact that I went to school during the day and that I wore those clothes during that time. It made me happy to realize just how much of a force to be reckoned with she was and that it seemed she thought of me even when we were apart. Are girls colder than boys in your world? H I think it depends on the person. Is that how it is in your world? I once read that women have lower body temperatures than men. I wonder how close they are, though. I know that women here usually do get colder. So, it is true. I'm guessing you assumed that my temperature is higher than yours because I'm a man, but I think I run hotter than even other guys because I get a lot of exercise. I see. Chica, are you cold? No, I'm fine. I'm never cold when you're here. Yes, we were close enough for her to feel that. Obviously, she hadn't planned to turn my bones to jelly, but sometimes intention and result are two wholly separate things. In that, we were the same. There's a reason I say in that. Though it was trivial at this point, we had established that on the organism level, we were two totally different things.

One day, I had gotten a really good feel of her hair. This happened for no reason other than we had incidentally moved close to each other. Anyway, when I placed my hand on what seemed to be the back of her head, I was surprised to realize that I was touching her hair. What's the matter? Is this all your real hair, even from the part where it's tied back? Yeah, it's real. Is it weird? Is it different from your hair? It was different. Probing with my hand, I found that her hair was tied into what would probably be referred to as a ponytail in our world. But there was a clear difference between the texture at the top and where it was tied. Not only did no single hair of mine possess such a huge difference in texture along its span, but I was shocked at how peculiar the tips of her hair felt compared to the roots, which were already a bit stiffer than I'd expected. If I were to compare the last 10 odd centimeters of her hair to the closest material that I knew of at the time, I would say that it was like soft, supple wire. I say wire, but it wasn't the sort of thing that would stay in any one-defined shape like our hair. It bunched and curved and swayed. I had perhaps accidentally touched her hair before, but not even realized it from its texture. However, I got the impression that if she wanted to stab someone with it, it might even pierce skin. Perhaps that was why she kept it pulled back. Was there in fact anything in my world that resembled that texture? You don't have to touch it if it feels weird to you. I suddenly deeply regretted taking the time to figure out how it felt to me, as I seemed to have caused her some undue concern. It's not like anything I've ever touched, but it's not unpleasant. I'm happy actually. There are still parts of you that I don't know about. I knew of course that there was still plenty of chikat that I didn't know about, but I was honest when I said that getting to know those parts little by little made me happier than anything. But although I hadn't conveyed it to her, there was more than that to my words. I was happy that I had found yet another new part of her to love. Could I touch your hair too? she asked. "Oh, of course." Chica touched my hair, which I had put off cutting lately because of the cool weather. It was refreshing. It was the first time that being touched by someone actually put me at ease. It's soft all the way through. It feels nice. It really is completely different. Yes, it was. Regardless of whether she was a completely different life form, here we were able to touch one another and try to understand each other. It really didn't matter if she was a person or not. That day, we experienced the closest proximity of our two worlds, a honeymoon. It truly was one. The word in Japanese mitsu was originally a literal translation of the English word honeymoon referring to the first month of a marriage, a time like the sweetest honey. I was happy. I could live now knowing that sweet honey truly existed. My who could ever say something as universal as that?

When is your birthday, Chica? You mean the day I was born? It's beep. Sorry, I couldn't hear that at all. H how should I put it then? It's soon. When I tried to drill it down, it seemed that her birthday was probably about 2 weeks away, though that was based on her perception. So, no matter how desperately we tried to confirm it, the day might not line up exactly. Why? She asked. My father's birthday was not long ago, so I was wondering if you celebrate birthdays in your world, too. I see. We do. When you wake up, you get beep from your family. It's like a special celebration. Oh, here we eat cake and give people presents. What's this cake thing? I described the shape and ingredients to her and learned that there was a similar food in her world that went by a different name. I'm guessing the day you were born is a really important day in your world. I guess so. Honestly, I think it's more just ceremonial. Using that day as an excuse to do something exciting. Well, if you have fun with it, I think that's a good thing. When I saw her smile of all the choices I could make, simply nodding and saying, "That's true." immediately rose to the top of the list. "I wonder what I could do for you," I said. "If I got you a cake, you wouldn't be able to taste it, and I can't give you a present either." "Thank you for that. But the time I get to spend with you is already more than enough." No matter how many times I heard that, it still warmed my heart. I could never get tired of it. Well, if you do think of anything that I could give you, please just let me know. Let me think. Oh, then could I make one request? Of course. A request from Chika. That was rare. My voice brightened immediately, though, of course, I was nervous about whether her request would be something I could actually fulfill. She'd be disappointed if she bothered to ask me and I told her I couldn't grant her wish. I'd be disappointed in myself as well. Even if it was likely to go that way. Thus, it was a true relief that my worries proved groundless. You remember when we shared songs from our worlds before? Yeah. It had been several months prior, but I recalled it vividly. I'd like to hear you sing again. Uh, what? You don't have to if you don't want to, though. No, I mean, it's not that I don't want to. I hate to be all, oh, it's not like I hate it, but anyway, it isn't like I hate singing. It was a little embarrassing, but not enough for me to refuse her request. What was more pitiful was that odd display of panic just now, if anything, here was less than desirable. Still, are you all right with something that meaningless? I asked. It's not meaningless to me. I get to hear a song from another world, and I get to hear your voice sounding different from usual. So, I think it's something really special. When she put it that way, of course, she'd be happy. Well, that's fine, then. Even now, if you want. No, I want it to be special. So, let's wait a little longer until the day I was born is closer. I'm happy that I not only get congratulations from my family, but from you, too. As I told her how happy I was to get to congratulate her as well, the thought of her family crossed my mind. I've been imagining a world of people of only shining eyes and nails living in darkness. But, of course, everyone over there, Chica included, would be fully visible to one another. To be honest, I was jealous of her family getting to see what she looked like. However, it was because I couldn't see her that I could boast about this unique one-of-a-kind bond that we shared. A relationship unlike any other that existed expressly because we could not reach one another. We talked about birthdays for a little while longer until it came about time for Chica to return to her family. I saw her off and then left the bus shelter as well. I looked at my watch. I had stayed a bit late tonight. At this point, a long while after the end of summer break, my family's lingering resentment toward me seemed to have abaded, and I no longer took any heat or fussing when I stayed out late. Thanks to this blessing, I've been able to enjoy my time with Chika all the more. On the way home, I thought about the song that Chika had requested. I realized that I had forgotten to ask her if it was okay if it was the same song as before. Either way, I needed to drill as many songs into my head as possible, including that one. Two weeks wouldn't be long. My life when Chika was not by my side was a bland parade of the same old high school days, easily digestible no matter how much you consumed of it. Now that I had cha, all the color seemed to have drained from every other part of my life. My family, classmates, and everything else, already little more than the scenery at the periphery of my vision as I ran through life, were now so desaturated they were nearly pure white. I wondered if the world looked the same way to other people, even those who had found something special themselves. No, probably not. I couldn't ignore how often people said that once they found something special, the whole world seemed to shine before them. Having found my singular precious thing in this world, I knew that what shined was not something as vague as the world itself. It was my own heart and nothing else.

When I opened the door of the bus shelter, as always, I prayed that this would not be the day that I finally stopped seeing her. I knew deep down that time would come someday. But I still wasn't prepared to steal myself for that possibility. coldness, hardness, softness, sweetness. I lived my life dreaming of those things. Ever since the war had disappeared from Chika's life, I usually saw her once or twice a week. It all depended on whether she could slip out from under her family's watchful eye to visit the safe house. It seemed it wasn't an endorsed course of action to spend much time in safe houses when there wasn't a war going on in her world. Still, it was a trivial issue on my end. I never knew ahead of time when she would appear, so I just had to come here every day. It made me happy that she made as much time as she could to see me, despite the obstacles. Though I didn't know it for certain, I managed to predict the date of the visit that would be the closest to Chika's birthday. On the second time we met again, counting from the night when I had promised to give her my birthday wishes, I spoke to Chika about it, and we agreed that I would present her the song the next time we met. If it happened to be after her birthday had already passed, we would deal with that then. Like I had initially predicted. That day soon came. As always, I opened the door with an inappropriate level of nerves, as though each time were the first time we were to meet. Whenever I saw that girl of glowing eyes and nails there, my heart and perhaps the whole world nearly burst with joy. There were no words with which I could describe this feeling. Ka. Her voice sounded more frantic than usual. I called out to her as well, sitting one body's width away from her. As I did so, she cidled up next to me. You seem like you're in a good mood, Chica. Yeah, I've been looking forward to today. I had expected this response, but I still had to ask. Your birthday hasn't passed, has it? Not yet. After the sun sets and rises again, it'll be the day I was born. Oh, so tomorrow then? That's perfect timing. But you didn't force yourself to come here today, did you? Until meeting Chika, I had never thought to consider that questioning the motives behind someone's every action might be harmful to them. Of course, Chika was still the only one I felt this way about. If I was a good person, I could have directed this newfound empathy toward everyone around me, but that was not who I was. No, not really. It was the same as always. That's good then. Oh, right. So, I don't know if they say this the same way in your world, but never once in my life had I said this stock phrase with so much actual sincerity behind it. Happy birthday, Chica. even if it's a day early. Thank you. We don't really use the word birthday here, so I'm happy that I get to hear something special just from you. By now, I should have been able to look Chica in the eye without any shyness. But for some reason, her smile alone always made my heart flutter. When the day you were born comes, I want to say happy birthday to you, too. It's not for a while, but when it does come, I'd like to hear how you say it in your world. Okay, I'll do that. Is it really far away? Yeah, some month still. The end of February. Actually, the day I had first met Chika. She was glad to learn this, saying it would be easy to remember. I couldn't recall anyone other than my own family ever being happy about my birthday before. Anyway, sorry to rush you, but how about that song? Sure. Okay. I was surprised at my own enthusiasm. What's up? Nothing. It's just a little nerve-wracking being put on the spot. Huh? As with the last time, neither having much experience with singing for someone important nor being at all suited to the task, it was difficult for me to perform it naturally. That said, this was what Chika wanted. I doubted that my own singing voice was worth anything at all. But this was a celebration. Even if it was meaningless, I had to put my heart into that song. The last time we met, Chika had requested two songs of me. The one I had sung before and a new one. This was so that she could see whether there would be any discrepancies in how the first song sounded between performances. The last time neither of us had managed to get the melodies across quite right. I got the feeling that the same thing would happen today, but I was sure that Chika suspected the same, so there was no point in discussing my concern. I'm facing forward now. I doubted the volume of my voice would have any effect on Chika's world. But still, I brought my mouth close to her ear, singing softly as I had before. I don't even know why. If my nose was to collide with her ear on that night, I would hardly be flustered about it. We had already confirmed one another's existences and then some. I was both ashamed and happy to be nervous thinking about such things. Inside my heart, I would not let myself be swayed by anything but my feelings for Chika. How truly happy this made me. Okay, I said. Let me know if I'm too close or my voice is too loud. I brought my hand to her ear and drew my face closer. Okay. Once at an appropriate distance, not so close that my nose would hit her, I positioned my lips and softly inhaled. Truthfully, the oxygen from that breath should have been used to sing Chikah's song. But before I did so, I suddenly thought of all the things that had been lingering in my mind until now, which I was finally able to put into words. Thank you, Chica. I'm so glad that I met you. That low whisper used up all my breath, and I frantically took another. I could tell by my fingers cup beside her ear that she was nodding, even with her eyes closed. Me, too. There was a pause. I waited to hear her voice floating out of the darkness as ever say more. I'm glad I met you first. I probably should have just let that slide. Should have thought nothing of it. I pulled my fingers away from her ear and moved my face back from hers, sitting up straight once again. Ka, I feel like I would have been able to process this more readily if it were a normal conversation, but for some reason, there was a lump in my throat. Ka, what's the matter? As I spoke her name, whatever was lodged in my throat forced its way up onto my tongue. I chewed it, tasted it, and rolled it around, trying to determine what it was. Several seconds later, I finally identified it. But I was lost for several seconds more, wondering whether it would be right to confirm this with Chika or no. Perhaps that's too rational a way to put it. Whether I should finish chewing this thing and spit it out. Eventually, the unpleasant sensation in my mouth won out. What do you mean? What do I mean about what? She looked at me, her head tilted. I grew afraid about meeting me. It was obviously a groundless fear, but a fear nonetheless. You said, "First, no." I had so so much time to think about things. Truly, I honestly had more than enough time while I awaited her reply to put my feelings in order, collect my thoughts, and prepare myself to accept what might come. It was Chika and I who rendered that time unusable. We had gotten too close here in this shelter in the months since we had met. Chaka's eyes quivered. And being who I was, I spotted agitation among all the emotions conveyed by just those two lights. Or perhaps it was something that even others could have seen. Are there others besides me? What do you mean? Who you meet here? If we had never touched, we could have both stayed in our own delusions. You're the only one here. Here. Are there other places that connect to this world? I still haven't been able to determine if it's the same world as yours, which meant, but based on a number of beep, I think it's possible it might be the same world where as I mentioned before, there are a number of safe houses. This is just one of many. Wait, so you Kaio, what's wrong? What did she mean? What's wrong? I felt my fingertips going numb. I opened my mouth, realizing I needed to raise my body temperature. How could you hide this from Icha? I didn't mean to hide it from you. Then why were you so disturbed when I asked you about it? I don't even really know. But I mean, if I was disturbed, you were. If I was, it was because you were making such a scary face at me. The shape of her eyes changed. It was obvious she was troubled. Though I knew this, the things I wanted to say had their own mass, and they spilled out from my mouth. Through all of the conversations we had, why would you never once mention that? I should have immediately checked myself at the mention of my frightening expression. You could even say that would have been the best course of action, but I only understood that in hindsight. Chika thought long and hard, then started in a tone that anyone would peg as making an excuse. Well, in part because it just didn't come up. Also, she told me early on that she didn't want me to tell people that she was in that place. As we talked it over, we confirmed that there was no way for me to tell anyone exactly where she was. and I didn't think there was any reason to tell you anyway, so I didn't bring it up. Learning that it was a woman did not bring me any measure of relief. Chika was talking to a human other than me. There was another human looking at those eyes and nails. Another person who had proof that Chika's world existed. Of course, there was a reason to tell me. What about all the connections between this world and yours? But didn't you say you wanted to talk about us instead of about our worlds? That's not the same thing, I said, raising my voice. Never had I imagined Chika would argue something so pedantic. Ka, what's going on? You're acting strange. I Something occurred to me. Chika had shown me a glimpse of this new truth before, perhaps. body temperature, uniforms. Of course, come to think of it, I had never given her any details about what a dog was, and yet she had known that it was an animal that lived with humans. Once she had talked about an accessory that I had no recollection of. Could she have been telling me to keep my voice down because this other person spoke loudly? this whole time. Chica said that my expression scared her. But I knew that what was inside me right now was not anger or hatred, but sadness and loss. There were doubtless other emotions wrapped up in there as well. Anger and hatred and love and jealousy. And perhaps she could see all of them, but it was no trifling thing. I was sad. You really are special to me. my one and only," I croked. "And I think of you as my one and only as well. And what about that other person, whoever she is?" "You don't stop being special just because there's someone else." I knew that what she was saying was right. But that was only the meaning of her words, seen through a framework of ethics and morals. The senseless thoughts, feelings, emotions of the human mind did not fit into that framework. There was no way she could possibly understand. Perhaps romance was not the only thing that was beyond her comprehension. Maybe she could not understand attachment to others at all. That's not something people can accept that easily. Her eyes quivered again, putting my own disturbed feelings aside in favor of hers didn't feel the least bit justifiable. Would you really stop being special just because I met someone else? I could not immediately deny this. You're the only one I've tried out romance with, though. As I tried to put the feelings squirming deep inside me into words, waiting for them to come together properly, the two lights narrowed. I see Ka, you. I looked at her and could not breathe. We're just pretending. Her smile was not one of happiness, of joy. I felt that so starkly that my heart and body achd. I wasn't. I absolutely wasn't. That wasn't true. I was glad that this was something that I could immediately distinctly deny, but the sound I should have been making didn't reach my ears. My lips quivered and my teeth didn't seem to fit together right. I couldn't breathe or speak. I should have at least just shaken my head in response. But somewhere between the light that blinded my eyes and the voice that deafened my ears, I'd forgotten even how to render a denial. Chikas spoke in mystead. However, you meant beep and just love beep yourself beep into you. I couldn't hear her beep. Sad beep even if beep. Kiss beep and the song beep still special but you beep. I couldn't hear her at all. How could beep believe beep liked beep? I can't hear you. Why? I thought that the only things I couldn't hear were words I didn't know. Concepts that didn't exist in my world. But I couldn't make her out at all. I had no idea what she was trying to say, not in the slightest. As I sat there dumbbounded, her eyes pulled away from mine. They moved up high and then looked at me. There was a deep sadness in them. I need to beep. Of course, I couldn't hear her, but in all the months I'd known her, with the connection that we had forged, I knew that her standing up meant that it was time for her to leave. So, I rung out the last little bit of air left in my lungs to at least tell her, "Try not to get caught." Though she was still troubled, she seemed to respond to my words, but it was caught up in the noise, and I had no idea what she actually said. Soon, it was dark, and as usual, I was alone. Unlike usual, however, I could not bring myself to stand from the bench. Instead, now that I sat there alone, I was able to unpack my feelings one by one. Then I realized the true impact of what I had done. I wanted to explain myself to apologize immediately, but Chika was already gone. All I had to do was wait a few more days. I should have done so at any point before then, but I had been at the mercy of a passion so strong, I thought my whole body might burn to ash. Naturally, feelings of regret or remorse aren't enough to actually kill you. But from then on, I was plagued by the feeling that I truly might die. No one can die from just an emotion. It would not be until much later that I realized this. Realizing it did not settle my feelings, though. That time never came. I never saw Chika again. The person who had cherished me as her one and only vanished into the darkness. And the color never returned to my world. An encore no one called for. As it turns out, our lives aren't long enough to judge things in such emphatic terms as fun or boring. You can allow yourself to be taken by emotions that are little more than a passing breeze, but that gust of wind will soon blow away, leaving you wasting the rest of your life in want of the memory of that gale. The phrase the rest of your life might conjure up images of some elderly person in physical decline, but that's not what I mean. Age is only one factor. The aging of a person's soul is measured in how much time has passed since that wind blew into their life. Once you're old, everyone laughs at the stagnant breezes of their own winds and says, "Those were the days." Or, "That was the best time of my life." You could claim that the only meaningful times in our lives are when we're touched by that wind. It would be easier if the end of our lives came sooner. But most people, myself included, lack the courage to actually take our own lives. So, we're left with no other way to chew through the days than to either sit there paralyzed or to idally wh our lives away. Sometimes we find something to pretend to devote ourselves to. Sometimes we get ourselves addicted to things. Sometimes we get our hands on luxuries. And sometimes we get our hands on people, then we die in vain. I realize how foolish we are as creatures to cling to our own individuality so fiercely. But from the moment we're born, we're made to realize that we're nothing more than another fragment of that human stupidity. Though it's unfortunate, it's pointless to allow our days to be consumed by such an inevitable

disappointment. So, we have no choice but to accept it. This world isn't something that warrants such strong emotions.

Even when I received news of my mother's death from my brother, as I expected, I didn't feel particularly strongly about it. I wondered at what point my mother had been blown by that wind and pied her, thinking that she must have spent the rest of her life chewing on that memory like gum, just like everyone else.

It had been roughly 8 years since I'd last visited my birthplace. I'd set foot there again only once to collect some things left in my room when my parents decided to move shortly after I graduated from university. I threw away most of it, taking only a few things back with me. The new house, which had been built in the same neighborhood as our original home, carried no trace of me, and I left any reason to return to my birthplace behind.

I only bothered to return 8 years later, because I thought it might be nice to at least offer a prayer for the mother who had fed, clothed, and sheltered me for the first 18 years of my life. In my meaningless, trifling days, surely I could at least spare the time to clap my hands together for her.

I received word on Friday and attended the wake on Saturday. My father and my brother, who had remained behind, ever the beautiful son, had taken care of the arrangements and everything else. So, all I had to do was show up, look like I was in mourning, and pray for my mother's happiness in the next life. I made the necessary greetings as my father brought me around to all the relatives and neighbors for introductions.

Once the repass had ended, most of the people went home, leaving the venue quiet with only close family lingering behind. As I stood outside during our vigil afterwards, smoking a cigarette, my brother drifted over and lit one as well. "Sorry about all this," he said. "I know you're pretty busy right now. Weird to be worrying over your little brother when your parent just died. I mean, it's fine. I knew that wasn't what he had followed me out there to say. You know, mom was always worrying about you. Huh. I hadn't seen my mother or brother in years. It was always, "Oh, I do hope Kai is happy. He was such a brooding child. I hope he's not in a funk or something from her. That is, not me. My brother laughed at his own joke. I put on a smile as well. That's our mom, huh? I think she'd be relieved to see you actually able to share a smile with folks around you. Used to be so prickly all the time. He laughed again. I laughed back and said, "Guess you're right." Playing the part of the cheerful younger brother as I exhaled smoke.

Listening to him talk, I supposed it was good that I had come here one last time to say a prayer for my mother like this. At the same time, I realized I would probably never come back to this place without her ever again.

When morning came, the service proper finally began. I was not particularly moved by any of the proceedings. And when I saw my mother's body go up in smoke, reduced to nothing but ash and bones, I was only struck again with how cold and empty human existence truly was. But that was only the slightest of chills.

Once all the proceedings were over, I informed my father and brother that I would be leaving right away. As previously discussed, I couldn't imagine what they thought of me. The second son, who was abandoning all familial duty, I left the funeral home behind, the pair of them smiling at me as I went. From my mother's perspective, it would probably be a relief just to know that the cleanup was not being left to me of all people.

I called a taxi to the parlor and told the driver to take him to the station. Typically, I was of the mind that a taxi driver shouldn't make conversation with their passengers. Today, I felt much the same. "Are you from around here, mister?" "Yes, I am. I came back to see my family due to some unfortunate circumstances." I'd fully intended to ignore him, but I'd gotten out of the habit. "My condolences." "Thanks." And that was the end of the conversation.

I wondered just what in the hell the point of that conversation had been, who it was for. But then nothing we do in life is ever really for anyone or for any purpose. So I couldn't fault the driver. Anger just leads to exhaustion. I gazed out the car window. In the past, I would have expected to see little else outside but the abandoned houses that had been left to nature and the like. But it was different now. Progress marches on, and now the only vestiges of that era were the fields that sat empty, smack dab in the middle of clumps of condos, like pitfalls.

"This place has really changed, huh?" "You're probably too young to remember, but it used to be nothing but mountains around here." I could have told him I do remember, but I realized that the driver was not actually expecting a reply and left it at a soft sigh. I'd half expected to feel more emotional about passing through this area. But no matter how close nor far I was from it, my emotions remained equally flat.

As I traced my way through my memories, as I always did, the taxi arrived at the station. It was still a rural station, but it was markedly cleaner than it had been 8 years prior. I took a look at the timetable and then purchased a coffee at a little takeout stand that had not been there the last time I was here. A shelter sat prettily beside the ticket gate. Perhaps a train had just come as there was no one inside it. I took a seat on the bench that sat against the wall. The cold season was well on its way out, but there was no point in me standing around freezing on the platform.

Inside the shelter was a space heater and a clock, or rather a large LCD display. I took a sip of my coffee as the news played at an unobtrusive volume. The coffee was weak, but that wasn't the shop's fault. Everything that entered my mouth was weak, tasteless, meaningless on my tongue. Coffee, tobacco smoke, or other people's spit. The fact that I was not yet accustomed to this, that I would still even acknowledge a flavor as weak, was perhaps proof that even my senses were still tethered to my memories. In memory lay expectations, which were only betrayed by reality.

It had already been 15 years. Was that a long time or was it actually a short one? You could just as easily say that it was much too long as you could that it was far too short. Again, I wandered through my memories, the special something that existed only inside of me. I traced through the things that I would not dared not forget. Remembering was the only thing that kept me alive. I hadn't realized I would grow old so quickly. I stared at the clock as I sipped my weak coffee.

At some point, someone else entered the shelter. Out of my peripheral, I glanced at the person who had sat down on the bench at a gap and saw a woman in a gray coat. It was a small town train station, so I stole a glance at her face, thinking she might be someone I knew. But her brilliant, willful gaze and thinly pressed lips rang no bells. I could only assume by the hope for the future that her expression betrayed that her own powerful wind had not yet blown away. To be frank, I was jealous of her.

By the time the train was scheduled to arrive, a few more people had entered the shelter. The woman sitting beside me stood up almost in sync with me, moving through the manned ticket gate to the platform. The train soon arrived and we boarded, finding the car fairly empty despite it being a weekend, and the woman and I sat side by side again with some distance between us. It would be a bit over an hour before we reached my transfer station.

Now and then the train stopped, taking on more passengers, and by the time we arrived at my destination, there was a decent crowd, most of whom stood from their seats at the same station where I was exiting. That woman got off at the same stop as well. A headphone cord ran from her ears to her pocket. It was clear to me as I watched her walk in front of me, back straight, heels clacking, that she had not yet come face to face with that gale. Or perhaps she was right now in the midst of a maelstrom. Jealousy bubbled up once more. On the flip side, I also felt a sort of grief as I thought of the dull, muffled world that lay ahead of her. That said, the same fate awaits everyone in this world. So, this was not a sentiment I felt toward her specifically. I rarely held an attachment to any individual person. I no longer had strong feelings about anyone. I was never going to see this woman again. Or so I thought.

We walked in the same direction, and before I knew it, we were on the same train again. Though this car was a bit more crowded, and we were no longer sitting next to each other. After another hour of swaying on the train, I finally disembarked, but she remained on it. I hadn't imagined we'd ride together even that far from such a rural origin point, but that didn't really mean much to me either. By the time I exited the ticket gate at the station, I had already forgotten about her.

A week after my mother died, on the day I celebrated my 31st birthday, I saw her again. This time it wasn't in a station shelter or on a train, but at a radio station I visited for my job. Apparently, she worked there. I'm not sure how unlikely of a coincidence it is to run into someone from your hometown in the finite number of business transactions one does in one's life, but human lives are so long that I suppose it isn't totally impossible. The fact that I had no recollection of this woman, even though I had visited this station several times before meant that I either simply hadn't encountered her or that it was because I never looked at anyone's faces unless it was necessary. It only occurred to me that she was the person I had seen at the station back home because she stared at me for an unnaturally long time as we passed each other. I thought this suspicious until I realized I had seen her recently. She was probably wondering if she'd seen me somewhere before as well. Once a human identifies a target, it's impossible for them to ignore it. So, the next time I visited the station, I noticed her again. I caught her staring at me as she recognized my face, and I greeted her, thinking she must have some business with me, but she simply returned a polite nod and left. I had no business with her myself, so I made no move to stop her.

The situation didn't change until circumstance brought us together for a fourth time. Well, honestly speaking, it wasn't the fourth time. I knew it. It happened when I was introduced to her as a representative of the program I was getting an ad placed in as the pair of us lively exchanged business cards. She received my card first, looked at it, and then looked at me again curiously, muttering something vague. Ignoring her boss, who stood beside her, giving a concerned, "What's wrong?" She looked at me and said my name. "I thought that was you, Suzukiun." I made a baffled expression at this address. "Um, here," she continued. If we were acquainted, she should have just given her name, but instead she offered me her card. What a weirdo. I took it and looked at the name. That name. "Remember me?" To be frank, I didn't. For her to call me Suzuki. Was she someone I had met in college or one of the various acquaintances I had made since becoming an adult? Or given the station we'd rode from, was she someone from as far back as my high school days? However, as a member of society, I was aware that telling someone upfront that you didn't remember them tended to upset them. I knew that could cause further trouble, so I started to try to save face. But thankfully, she took the initiative and revealed herself. "We were in the same class in high school, though. Um, I guess we didn't talk all that much." I didn't talk much to anyone, so that didn't narrow it down any. "We used to always end up at the shoe lockers together on the way home." Now I remembered. Oh, this was Silito from high school. I looked at her card again. I supposed that had been her name. I looked at her in halfed shock and told her that I did remember her. "I'm so glad you do. I'd been wondering since I saw you at the station. I wasn't sure, though. You've changed a lot from back then. You always have such a big smile when you're here. Sorry for getting so worked up. This is Suziki Kayaan, an old classmate." She explained the situation to her boss, who looked at her, then me, giving a loud, "Well, that's wonderful. Please be kind to this old buddy of yours." "What was so wonderful about that?" I had no idea, but I made a similar expression as him and said, "What a shock, huh?" These words were mainly meant to smooth things over, but they were at least 2% sincere.

Saitito had noted that I was different now, but really, I was the one who should be saying that. Putting aside the fact that she was wearing makeup, I could sense no trace of the Silto I had once known as far as I remembered her. Between her face, the air with which she carried herself, and even her height. She was like a completely different person. The Silto I knew never had such hope in her eyes, and would have never been so overjoyed by a reunion with an old classmate. Obviously, I had never known her outside of the school building, and it had been more than 10 years since then. But still, regardless, this reunion and the fact that it was a reunion with Silito held little significance to me. I now had a work acquaintance who was also from my hometown. That was all.

Naturally, even after we had already exchanged business cards, I saw Saitto every time I visited the radio station. That said, she was never the one I was scheduled to meet with. We'd see each other, nod, and go our separate ways. We sometimes stopped to make chitchat, and once the timing had even worked out for us to get coffee with a few folks, but that was the extent of it. The fact that she always had such boundless energy concerned me, but that was really none of my business. The only thought I had about it was that someday, once that wind left her sails, she would probably return to her old self.

Until one day I heard, "You want to grab dinner sometime, Suzuki?" It was when I received this sudden invitation from Saito, who was nothing more than a former classmate who I had just happened to cross paths with while working that I began to wonder if she truly wasn't the Silto I once knew. I wasn't inclined to turn her down, though. It didn't matter to me either way. "Sure, let's do that. We can coordinate our schedules. I'll give you my line." We had never really had much in the way of one-on-one exchanges before, so this was our first time trading personal contact information.

Our tiny reunion took place during the May holidays after the frantic days at the start of the school year had ended. Saitito was dressed in dark business casual and I in a suit, having had a single work function to attend that day. On that topic, I of course never attended any high school reunions, but I wondered whether she had. With the way she was right now, there was no way she hadn't gone. I asked her as we waited for our food at a tidy little restaurant. "I haven't," she said. "They've mostly been on the weekends, and weekends mean nothing to radio station employees. I had a few fairly good friends by our third year, but I'm happy enough with just contacting them individually. Though, of course, we've fallen out of touch by now," she added when the drinks arrived. She shared a pointless, perfunctory toast. "Is there anyone from back home you still keep in touch with?" she asked. "No, not really. That's how it gets once you're a busy professional. Plus, I mean, well, don't take this the wrong way, but you weren't especially approachable back then." Her tone, both wry and considerate, made me chuckle as I replied, "Yeah, I think I get what you mean." I didn't deny the accusation because I realized she was probably referring to the incident I'd caused. Stubbornly denying the facts was a surefire way to make someone uncomfortable. Acknowledging your faults and telling the other you had grown beyond them was necessary to maintaining stress-free relations.

"Honestly though, I was surprised to see how much gentler you've gotten. Sorry to bring this up again. I just didn't think it'd be appropriate to mention at work." Considering how the conversation was going, it would be just as strange if the topic hadn't been broached. I chose my words carefully, trying not to make her feel awkward. "I mean, I guess I have changed, but I was just as surprised. Remembering how you were in high school, I'd have never imagined you inviting me out somewhere." She looked a bit bashful, perhaps aware that she might become the subject of the conversation. I wondered if it was a forced expression. "Well, when you put it that way, I guess I've grown up, too. And I've gotten a lot more friendly. I think I got less standoffish starting the middle of our second year, though." Now that she mentioned it, there had been a point at which her demeanor had shifted pretty drastically, though I hadn't remembered exactly when that was. Thinking about who I was back then and remembering what you were like at the time, I would have never imagined us becoming work acquaintances. "I invited you out because I thought that was a bond worth cultivating. But to be honest, I half expected you to turn me down. I figured it couldn't hurt to be nice to someone from a company I'm doing business with," I said sarcastically with a faint smile, realizing she was still looking for some proof of my inner change. She gave a toothy grin and replied, "Wow, you even have a sense of humor now."

I carried bite after bite of tasteless food to my mouth, downing drink after drink in the hopes of dulling my senses. The conversation with Saitto did little to hold my interest, but I rarely got much enjoyment out of conversing with anyone these days, so at least it wasn't especially painful. I made the right faces at the right times and spoke at an appropriate volume. That was the essence of conversation. It was necessary to avoid making trouble at work by upsetting Saitto, former classmate, now turned business associate.

"Oh, right. So, what did you go back home for?" "Uh, my mom passed away." "Oh, I'm so sorry. You have my condolences." "No, you don't have to apologize. We'd known it was coming." Why did people always apologize for bringing up a relative's death? "I don't really go back there anymore," I continued. "Do you?" "Oh, yeah. When I have time, anyway. I don't really have any reason to go back, but it sometimes helps to recharge my batteries." So, it wasn't so much a miracle of fate that had brought us together on that platform as it was my intruding on Silito's routine.

"Is it work that usually keeps you away or do you have a family here now?" "Work? As you can see, I'm not married." "Right. Same here. As you can see." She held up her left hand to show me the ring finger, as I had just done. She let out an alcohol-laced sigh, then gave a vague apology for throwing out information that I hadn't even asked about. If she was going to apologize for every single little thing, we would get nowhere.

Once we were through with most of our meal, we topped it off with some coffee and dessert. Saitito seemed to be the sort who favored luxuries like booze and sweets and coffee, making sure to treat herself to dessert and drinks everyday. Afterward, she invited me to join her for more drinks. It didn't matter to me either way, so I went along with her. The restaurant bill came out to an even number, so it was easily split. We shared another toast at a bar near the restaurant. We raised our glasses casually to one another as we sat at the counter. I with a gin rickey cocktail and Saitito with a call.

As the alcohol seeped through our insides, Silito brought up a topic more personal than she had ventured back at the restaurant. "So, what did you usually do with your time back then?" "Nothing really. If anything, I guess I did a lot of running." "Guess you're pretty athletic." "I mean, it's not like I was into any actual sports. I just ran because I didn't have anything else to do, though." I truly had no interest in the answer. I returned the question. "I guess I listen to a lot of music," she said. "Oh, is that why you got the radio job?" "I guess so. I do have a lot of fun now when they invite me to help choose the music they're putting on. It's fun, or rather fulfilling. Guess that sounds a little self-important." "I think it's cool that you can say stuff like that." "It really isn't all that cool, though. There's a lot that goes into it." "Well, of course, there was a lot that went into it. There was a lot that went into everything in life. But I responded with the appropriate, "Well, even if it's tough sometimes, it's nice that you have fun with it."

So, that was it. In a way, Silito had managed to reach a future that she had painted with her own hands. I wondered if the reason it seemed that her own wind had not yet passed her by was because of her own eclectic desires as a person, or simply because she was right in the middle of the storm. "Do you enjoy your work, Suzuki?" "I had never once assigned a value to how enjoyable my work was. I guess I get a sense of accomplishment from how weirdly busy it gets. There's a lot that could be improved, though." "Guess it's like that everywhere." "It's true, but you still got to keep on living." Obviously, this was painful, but it was also inevitable. "You're right. That's true." She nodded deeply, smiling at me, as though my half-hearted responses actually meant something to her. People sometimes feel that they understand others better when they realize that they share a circumstance with someone else. I suppose she must have started to feel some affinity for me, noting some similarities between my transformation and her own journey from high school to her current self. This was clearly a misconception, but given that everyone in this world looks the same in some ways from the outside, it was inevitable that someone might draw this sort of comparison. What was inside of me couldn't be empathized with. But of course, there was no real harm in having a work colleague who felt positively toward me. So I perked up the corners of my mouth and nodded, saying, "Guess so."

Using this conversation as a launching point, we continued to volley quips back and forth as though we actually shared common ground as rather prickly people in high school who had learned and softened over time, as Seto seemed to assume. Suddenly she said, "I really was bored a lot back then." "Back then? You mean when we were younger?" "Yeah. Still, I don't really hate my old self when I think about her." That was when I realized it. When we were first reunited, I had been a bit stunned at her transformation, but there was nothing that shocking about it. She'd undergone an infectiously commonplace transformation. She had changed. Yes, Saito had become an adult who looked back fondly on the past. Her transformation had only stood out to me because the outward changes had been so marked. Of course, that made it even more mysterious to me that she still looked like her wind hadn't passed her by. Though she was intoxicated, the light in her eyes was one that people like me, who simply whined the rest of their lives away, did not possess. Still, that was none of my business. I had no interest in knowing how her life would progress. These days, I no longer hesitated to slurp down the time that I would have cherished so much back then, consuming it bit by bit as though separating out a braid of hair strand by strand.

We continued nodding back and forth at our routine conversation until we realized we had already blown past midnight and it was now approaching 1:00 a.m. I watched Silito take a wobbling step as she stood to use the restroom, having drank quite a bit and took the opportunity to settle the bill. Silito, lover of luxury, was probably not quite ready to go back home, but I figured it was about time to call it a night. I told her this when she returned, bleary eyed. She didn't seem to disapprove, but started to ask about paying me back. I told her that it would be a hassle to try and take money from her, instead suggesting that she treat me next time if we happened to do this again. She agreed.

I left the restaurant and stepped out onto the main road, hailing a cab. I let Saito ride with me, figuring that we probably lived in the same direction, given that we had been on the same train line before. However, when I heard the neighborhood that Silito mentioned to the driver, it wasn't one I recognized as on the same train line as mine. "God, I'm really drunk. Sorry." Saitto put her hands to her cheeks as though embarrassed by herself. My head was swimming plenty too, so I threw my left hand down onto my seat to avoid touching Silito where she sat beside me and responded with an appropriate, "That's what happens when you drink." It wasn't really a problem, honestly. But there was no point in dwelling on it either way, so I just told her, "You can sleep until we get there if you want." However, she shook her head, brushing off my offer with a thanks. "I'm all right. I'm sorry," she continued. "You can just write this off as the alcohol talking if you want to, but I'm really happy right now." "About what?" "I just think it's amazing that two people who were both so bored back then could actually have fun drinking together like this." Bored fun. There she went again, deciding my feelings for herself, though she was right about the former. She lowered her hands from her face, resting them on her bag that sat on her lap. "You know," she started to say something, then was silent for a bit, staring at the back of the seat in front of her. She let out a sigh, the sort you'd expect before a once-in-a-lifetime confession or someone admitting to an old crush they'd given up on. "I used to really hate you." She glanced at me, giving a self-deprecating smirk. "I feel like it's been long enough. So, will you hear me out?"

At first, back then, I thought that I couldn't stand you. You seemed like the sort of person who thought that you were special but got annoyed when other people did the same things and acted the same way as you. That was the sort of misguided self-aggrandizing I understood. But there was a specific moment when I decided that I didn't like you at all. I had no interest in knowing when, but she seemed like she wanted to tell me, so I had to let her. "Can I ask when?" "Yeah. Remember when you lent me your umbrella?" I thought back, replaying my memories and stopping on the scenes that I normally skipped right over. I guessed something like that might have happened. Not clearly, but you did once on a rainy day when I forgot my own umbrella. Normally, I'd be happy about it, but it felt like, you know, I was like, what a half-ass good Samaritan this guy is. Like, why bother even being considerate for other people if you're going to look so unhappy about it? She added after herself. I guess I hated how similar we were before looking out the window.

Even being told that someone had hated me didn't stir my emotions. I had no interest in any evaluations of me that didn't have a bearing on my livelihood. And I certainly wasn't going to take the opinions of some person from the past to heart. Still, I knew what I was supposed to say to her here. I knew exactly why she would have brought up that topic. She had only announced her former hatred of me to show how her own evaluation of me had changed since then. I could have just ignored this, but again, none of this mattered to me, so I provided the response that I was sure she was hoping to hear. "You know, I hated you, too." I purposely let out a smile with the words, and when she turned her eyes back from the window to me, she looked like I had practically saved her. "Really?" "Yeah. I guess I hate folks who are like me, too." That wasn't true at all, but I didn't see any point in revealing my true feelings. She turned forward, tittering. "So, you did, huh?"

As she let her hand slide from her bag down onto her seat. The movement was unreserved, and her pinky brushed the ring finger of my left hand. It would be as much a pain to avoid this, so I just waited for her to pull her hand away herself. But she at no point showed any signs of doing so. Her pinky rested at top my ring finger. Then it curled around it like a crochet hook. I gave her a sideways glance. She was not looking at me. I saw the serious expression on her face as she continued looking forward and made a choice. None of this mattered either way, so I untangled my ring finger from her pinky and rested my hand on the back of hers. I softly intertwined my fingers in the gaps between her own slender ones. After a moment of hesitation, she closed her hand around mine.

Soon after, the taxi arrived in her neighborhood, whereupon she directed the driver to an apartment building. I pulled my hand from hers and we thanked each other. "See you later." "Oh yeah, try not to get caught. Haven't said that in a while." Her cheeks lifted as we exchanged our farewells. Then the cab door closed. Alone now, I directed the driver to my home, watching as Seto opened the autolock door of her building. Not that it mattered either way.

When you grow into a boring adult, there's little wonder or mystery that you don't understand the workings of. Even the weird legends back in our hometown were just vestiges of those who fled from the war and used those abandoned homes to hide so they wouldn't be attacked by the people who already lived in the area. Eventually, those bloodlines began to mix, and the refugees became indistinguishable from the rest, leaving nothing behind but words and old habits. They weren't fairy tales or creepy myths or anything like that. Many of the pointless actions that men and women take eventually turn into rituals.

Today, for the first time in a while, both of our days off had aligned, so there was no reason for either of us to force ourselves awake. But she leapt out of the bed anyway, immediately making a racket. I looked at the alarm clock, which seemed to have made its way over to my pillow somehow at some point in the night. It was 5 minutes to 10. First to rise, Silito was now sitting in a desk chair, apparently waiting for her computer to boot. I sat up, pulling on a t-shirt that was on the floor nearby and scooted to the edge of the bed. "Sorry, did I wake you?" she asked. "No, it's whatever. Got some work emails." "No, I just forgot something's going on sale today." "What is? Tickets to a show?" The word "show" was one that I rarely used in my daily life, so it took my brain a few moments to register what it meant. She meant a concert presumably. "It's a performance by a band I like. Her name, they've been on the program I direct a few times, too. I completely forgot about the pre-sale lottery, so I figured I'd aim for the general sales, which open at 10:00. 2 minutes left. God, this is always so nerve-wracking." She sat there looking a bit sloppy in her underwear and t-shirt, hand on the mouse, waiting for the clock to turn. Of course, this was her home, so I was probably the one who could stand to look a bit more put together. "If they've been on your show, couldn't you just get some tickets from them, Sun?" "Just a sec." Apparently, the clock had ticked over. She stared at her screen, ferocious and so silent that I didn't even think she was breathing. She clicked once at some specific moment, then started clicking over and over again at regular intervals. Did it really take that much work just to get some tickets? Not being an active music listener, I had certainly never purchased concert tickets, so I had no idea. To clarify, Sanay was the name Saitto had been given by her parents, her first name. Finally, she thrust both her fists up into the air. "Yes, got him. Sorry for making all this noise so early. Anyway, what were you saying?" "Glad you got them. But I was saying since you already have a connection with the band, couldn't you just get tickets from them?" "H. Now that you mention it, I probably could have." Saito spun her chair around facing toward me. She had a habit of overacting all her casual everyday words and actions. Even now, she pretended to be embarrassed of her private self, but her words and smile suggested she was actually quite proud. "I don't want to corrupt our business relationship with my own love of what they do, though." Approaching the things you like with an immaculate internal self-satisfaction. I didn't understand the point when the end result, going to a concert, was the same. That said, it was totally unnecessary to be exasperated by or disparage someone else's self-satisfaction. "I do have my place in the business, though, so I do what I can." I chose some words that I figured she would want to hear if we were a couple in a TV drama. "Gotcha. Well, maybe I'll go make us some breakfast. Something you'll like." "Oh, thanks. But, you know, we could just sleep a little longer."

Counter to what she had just said, Saitito stood from her chair and walked toward me with eyes fiery, sitting down beside me. Her slender fingers traced my own sinuous hand. "I mean, that's fine with me, but if we go back to sleep now, we'll never make it out in time. We had an errand to run together that afternoon. Honestly, I didn't really care about it either way, but the way things were going, it seemed like we'd be using up too much physical energy first thing in the morning, which was a bit of a pain." I pressed my lips to hers briefly, and stood up. "You can grab whatever you like from the fridge," came her voice from behind me, heavy with afterglow. I moved to the kitchen and opened the fridge. I had at least enough cooking skill not to disappoint myself with the dishes I made. And in the past four months that we had been together like this, I had come to grasp some idea of the things she liked. In the kitchen, whose layout I was now familiar with, I made an omelette with milk in it, a little more than half done, and slid it onto a plate with two slices of fried ham and some lettuce folded in the middle. I toasted one slice of bread and cut it in half, which would be enough for us to share. I set it down in front of Seaitto, who was sitting at the table waiting and sipping some instant coffee. "Sorry it's so basic." "That's fine. I'm usually eating by myself in a hurry, so it's nice to share a meal. Thank you." I accepted her praise with an appropriate smile.

After we finished our leisurely meal, we quickly cleaned ourselves up to go out. There was no point in wondering what use we might make of our leftover time as Saitito had already started working on our computer. "You should really try taking a day off sometimes, though." Of course, I didn't actually think that at all. People were free to use their own time however they wanted. I'd only said it because I figured it was what Silto would want to hear. "It's fine. I do this because I enjoy it." "You know, I'm always impressed you can be so enthusiastic about your work." "I am pretty proud of it, though. You could also say that I kind of use it as an escape." She smiled as she looked between her computer screen and her phone. What she said was true. Her heart and soul were completely governed by her work. Like many others, she'd made the mistake of believing that this was her detra. Finally taking a break from her work, she came up behind me as I sat on the couch and wrapped her arms around my neck. After lingering like this for what seemed the appropriate length of time, I got up and put my phone and wallet into my pocket.

When we made it to the front door, it was warmer outside than I'd expected. I stepped outside, waiting for her to lock up. Saitto and me walked to the station wearing clothes that were suitable for the season, our age, and our income levels. We had plans to go to the theater today. It was not something that either of us had much interest in, but Silito had gotten it in her head that we should go see a performance by some little acting troop she'd heard of from somewhere, reasoning that we could only do this on a day off. It wasn't anything that was worth my turning down.

As we walked, Saitito rattled off what she had learned from looking up this troop when I realized that she was staring at my face. "This again? Is there something on my face?" I knew that there was something she wanted to say to me, but that question was traditionally how we started these exchanges. "No, I was just thinking how handsome you look today," she'd say, taking a good hard look at me. In response, I'd say, "I know," or some other similarly affirmative words. At this, Saitto's face would scrunch up and she'd chide me with a, "You could at least try being humble." After which, we'd look at one another and laugh. I had no idea what was so funny about this, but Silito was always orchestrating such exchanges, sometimes several times a day. It did me no harm to go along with it, so I did. I had plenty of time in my life to waste on these things. I had some idea of how this had started. It was during a conversation several days after that day in May when we had affirmed through our actions that we would grow into the sort of relationship we had now. Saitto had explained to me why she would want to keep me bound to her as a lover. "I just look at you and think I'd like to see a bit more of this person both emotionally and physically. Physically. I like the face you've grown into." I realized that to some degree there was a bit of deception and bashfulness mixed in to hide the true nature of her thoughts. I also knew that I had an appearance that the opposite sex found somewhat attractive and that my expressions usually weren't the kind to make others uncomfortable. So I just said, "Well, guess I'm glad to hear that." Seto had latched on to that immediately, leading into these private exchanges of ours that persisted to this day. Incidentally, when Seaitto had asked me why I decided to go out with her at that same time, I gave her the answer I figured she wanted to hear. "From what you said, it sounds like you've had a tough path up until now. I just want to know more about that." Then I doubled down. "And because I guess I'm just more of a sucker for a pretty face than I thought." Perhaps because of her makeup and her expressions. Saitto's face gave a very different impression from the gloomy one it once did. That was the sort of thing that men would probably like. So, I supposed my answer wasn't entirely a lie. That seemed to lighten her mood. So, it didn't matter what I really felt.

Just as the taste of food had somehow deadened for me, at some point, so had my hunger and fatigue and lust. They were not entirely gone. But while I could satisfy my hunger and fatigue on my own, there were a limited number of ways to satisfy that third desire. It was advantageous to have a member of the opposite sex of a certain level of attractiveness by my side to make it past the physical and mental hurdles. That was as much as I ever thought about the appearance of the opposite sex. There was no real kindness born of that. Though Saitto took as many opportunities as possible to touch me while we were in private, she was not the type to demand physical contact when we went out. We kept a fair amount of distance between us as we rode the train to whatever station for whatever theater. The crowd was sparse, perhaps because this was an amateur performance. I had never once been moved by witnessing someone else's creation, but I had forced myself to experience many different things when I was a teenager, so I did at least have some basis for judgment. Even if I wasn't especially moved, I could still typically understand the structure of the story that was being told. That said, what I witnessed this time with SaitTo surpassed even my own lack of knowledge, veering into the incomprehensible. It didn't help that I had no idea what the men on stage were even referencing. In other words, I couldn't even find the plot. Perhaps back in the day, I would have been fascinated by the fact that such a work even existed. Now though, I felt like I might as well have spent 90 minutes staring at a blank wall. There were a few words from the performers and the director after the show, but I didn't get the point of that either. The curtain fell and the house lights came up and the pair of us looked at each other. I could tell by her expression what she thought of it. We stood up at once and exited the theater. Then we decided to wander around the area.

After a little while, as though she had finally surfaced from underwater, she let out a sigh. "Phew. It almost sounded scripted. I didn't get that at all." "Oh, I mean, sorry if you liked it, Kaakun. Did you get it?" "No. Honestly, I'm relieved to hear you say that. I had no idea what was going on either." That seemed to relieve some tension in her. I had realized over the past few months that she seemed to derive some special sort of joy from sharing opinions with the people close to her.

We stopped at an independent cafe nearby for a late lunch. The weather was nice, so we took a seat on the terrace and opened our menus. Neither of us were particularly indecisive when it came to these things. So, by the time a waiter came over with our water and hot towels, we were ready to place our orders. I really didn't get that show, but as Seto sipped her iced tea, which had come out first, something possessed her to bring up the performance again. "They were super passionate. Like, they seemed really genuine. Like, they were honestly excited about what they were doing. I did enjoy that about it." "Yeah, it did seem like they were pretty into it, right?" That meant nothing to me. I doubted that she had gotten any special meaning out of it either, but she seemed to be trying to eke some sort of symbolism out of the performance. I suppose it was scary to think that you'd wasted your time on something utterly pointless. It was only after that gust of wind had left you that you could learn to recognize and admit that all time was a waste. What was the point in wringing sentiment out of things if values and emotions didn't bubble up from within you naturally? Then it was all just a lie, wasn't it? "What's the matter?" "Oh, nothing. I was just thinking those guys were probably just college students." "At least half of them are, apparently. They said so online." We started eating at once when our food arrived. "What a sophisticated flavor," she opined, confirming for me that this was a dish that even other people would find bland. "I wonder sometimes," she said hotly. "About what?" "When I see young people like those performers or the ones in bands, I wonder if I could have ever chosen that sort of life. You ever think about that?" "M not really. I guess not in the slightest. If I thought about what I could have done differently every time I had

Regrets, I'd be dwelling on those things forever. I think you have a lot more confidence than I do. I feel like I worked pretty hard to get to where I am today, but I have no idea if I can maintain such a good life in the future. So, I end up fantasizing about the other lives I could have lived. Her evaluation of me was completely off the mark. I didn't think her evaluation of herself was correct either. I could tell by the way she talked about herself that she genuinely believed her life was a battle that she had fought and won. Even if she did lack confidence in herself, uncertain if she could continue living what she thought was a pretty good life. Now and then, Silito still seemed to mistake her own life for something special. No matter what path you choose, I'm pretty sure you'd thrive. Say, "I guess if you think so, then it must be true." She must have really had a lot of faith in me. I suppose there's no point in talking hypotheticals anyway. You can wish all you want, but it won't change your life overnight, and you can't take back the past.

You said that you studied military and foreign policy in school, right? Did you ever consider finding a career in those fields? I was interested in them as school subjects, but I don't think I'd like to work in them. That was a lie. I wasn't interested in them, but I'd had a goal in mind. However, I wasn't lucky enough to possess the intellect of someone who could change the world as a scholar. What about you? I asked. You were in legal studies, weren't you? Being a lawyer never really crossed my mind either. Though when I was in school, I guess I did think that it would be pretty fun at least once. When was that? Don't remember. Guess I'm going scenile already. She laughed. I laughed along with her. But then we're the same age, aren't we? I'm sure you've already forgotten all about back then, too. Then suddenly, no. Once this surprise, unplanned denial had spilled from my mouth, I had no choice but to continue the thought. But when I thought about it, this was something I needed to assert. But at least it wasn't an inconvenience. There are some things that I'll never forget. I meant to say this calmly with a smile, but the tone came out all wrong. My brain had given the right commands, but my mouth had not received the message. Saitto's right eyelid twitched slightly. It was something of a habit of hers when she felt that the atmosphere had shifted. Like that time I lent you my umbrella. I went on to explain. Oh, come on. You only remember that because I reminded you. I thought you actually had something serious to say. She seemed to be waving this off to give me a last chance at an out. I thought about it. Some genuine part of my heart had suddenly made itself known. Still, it was hopeless. Anything else was fine. I'd share whatever other opinions I had with Seaitto or anyone. There was only one thing that I would never ever forget, and that was the only thing that I could share with no one else. I smoothed things over with Silito, and we ate up the rest of our flavorless meal. Through these bland, endless days, how could I possibly forget, ever even think of forgetting that incomparable gale, those glittering memories?

Typically, it was Silito who selected our date spots. It would probably be unnatural if she did it every single time, so I'd at least offer some semblance of an opinion, but she never took it into account. Of course, to maintain a stress-free relationship, it was important not to blightly accept everything. So, I sometimes intentionally picked little squables during our conversations. Other than that, there was no reason for us to have any particularly noteworthy fights. And even now, it didn't seem that there were any big conflicts brewing on the horizon. In that respect, the sort of distance Seaitto had when it came to romance probably helped. She wasn't after the sort of persistently passionate romance where she had to see me constantly or affirm our feelings for each other every single day. What she wanted was a relationship that was little different from friendship with occasional dramatic fiery moments. As far as I was concerned, this was exceedingly easy to deal with. It took me far longer to comprehend Saitto's relationship with her work than her relationship with romance. Previously, we'd had a conversation along these lines. When you talk about radio, people imagine a lot of late nights, but actually, most of the work gets done during the day. I'm currently in charge of an afternoon program, so my schedule's pretty standard, but there's always the possibility of reorganization. Do you listen to the radio, Kyakun? I always have it on when I'm at home. And I listen to your show on demand. I listened to it so I could keep up with the conversation when the topic came up. Her eyes widened as though this surprised her. Really? Sorry. I'm just so surprised that I listen to the radio. No, that you're actually interested in my work. You never talk about your own job, so I figured you didn't care about other people's either. She was right. I didn't care about any of it. Until that conversation, it hadn't occurred to me that Seaito was arrogant enough to believe that people who take interest in their own careers must also be interested in others work. Still, Saitito's arrogance wouldn't cause me any inconvenience, and I was thankful to get the chance to reaffirm that her work was her pride and joy, knowledge which helped our relationship run more smoothly. Given how much value she placed on her work, she was probably in the blustering prime of her life right now. I envied her life if that wind of hers didn't leave her until she was so old that she could no longer work the way she did now.

Before I knew it, it had been about half a year since Saitto and I had started dating. Like most working adults, both of our work hours were usually from morning until night, so we were only able to see each other in the evenings when our professional and personal affairs didn't take priority or on the rare occasion that both our days off aligned. Silto had seemingly been pretty swamped at work lately, but today she appeared almost performatively free of fatigue, the light in her eyes threatening to scald me with its intensity. Hey there, I'm starving. Hey, what do you want to eat? I'll let you decide today. Saitto was wearing casual autumnar while I was in a suit, though she hadn't had the day off. She seemed to have finished up her work by early evening and had headed home to wait for me to get off. On days like this, if we hadn't already decided on somewhere to go, we would meet up at a drugstore near her place. Today was no different. This isn't really my wheelhouse, but I'm fine with anything but curry. I already had curry for lunch. Gotcha. How about the usual, then? By now I had spent enough time with her to understand where she was referring to. The usual was an isizakaya that was popular with area locals. It was independently owned and there were only a few employees on staff. We had been there frequently enough that I now recognized most of them and Silto who often went there on her own was treated as a regular. Oh, you brought the boyfriend with you today. I gave the appropriate smile and nod as a female employee who always seemed to be there greeted us in a gradingly chipper voice. We parted the noden curtains and stepped inside. Saitito seemed to enjoy talking with the staff here, much preferring a place where everybody knew her name to some strange place where she'd just be treated as part of the scenery. That said, she was fully aware that not everyone shared her preferences. So, if I had been opposed to this the first time she brought me here, we would have never come here together again. We were seated side by side at the counter. Silaitto asked the waiter about today's special and ordered that along with drinks and some menu items we'd ordered before. I was about to ask her if anything noteworthy had happened today as a conversation starter, as I usually did when Seto spoke up first. I know this is kind of out of the blue, but I wanted to talk to you about something. H what's that? I knew without looking at her that Saitito's eyes were shining. It was rare for her to get this fired up at the start of a conversation. Usually, she'd start off by talking about the news or something that had happened that day, something like that, to feel out the vibe. She must have had some particularly good news to share. We clinkedked our beersteines together. Then Silito quickly turned to the topic that she wanted to address. A while back, we were talking about whether we were still in touch with people from high school. Right. Yeah. I told you that I hadn't been in touch with anyone for a while, and you said that you really weren't either. Right. Right. But there are still one or two people who I hear from now and then. And today I got a text from one of them for the first time in ages and gave them a call. We decided to go get lunch together soon. Huh. Just as I was starting to note how unlike her this was, wondering if this was something that she absolutely needed to talk to me about, the waiter approached and placed our appetizers on the counter. Oh, thank you. Right. So, there was a girl in our class named Aawa Shiiori. Do you remember her? Aawa? As I thought about what to say, the waiter started elaborating on all the appetizers. I have some recollection of her, but I don't think I ever talked to her much. Oh, this one's really good. Oh, it is. Anyway, you say that, but were there any of our classmates that you really did talk to? Well, when you put it that way, Shan did remember you, though. I stopped moving my chopsticks and took a sip of my highball. You talked about me. Oh, sorry. Should I not have? No, that's not it. I'm just surprised that I was even worth bringing up. I had plenty of guesses about what people thought about me back then. She was surprised to hear that I'd gotten back in touch with you and that we were dating now. She asked me what you were like these days. I told her you were a good guy. I was sure she wanted me to be embarrassed by this. Little embarrassing for a former classmate to have to hear that. A come on, don't be like that. Anyway, Shorang got married. Her surname is Imayi now. But yeah, we're going to get lunch. You want to come too? It was an innocent question, or rather an arrogantly ignorant one. Saitto was assuming that just because she had overcome the barriers between her and our classmates, there was no reason that others couldn't do the same. I'm sure my being there would just make things awkward for her. You go ahead. I mean, I figured it'd be fine since we're all adults now. But I see what you mean. She did say that you could come if you wanted, though. I swallowed down the awkwardness of my next breath with my highball. Why on earth would Aawa say a thing like that? The chumminess of the weight staff came in handy here. Every time the waitress stopped by, she had a few words to say, allowing me to sidestep the invitation. As such, the meeting between Silito and Aizawa Shiori remained an event for just the two ladies. There was a chance that Silito might learn something less than positive about me. But facts were facts. It was possible that this might even be the impetus for the two of us to break off our relationship. If that did happen, it'd be just as well to me. Saito seemed to be thinking the exact opposite though and brought up a further topic as she snacked on some kabuchcha. Well, never mind meeting up with Shichan anyway, but there is something else. I was hoping you'd attend with me. From how formal she was being, I had some idea. Sure. When? Next month is my birthday. Remember? November 23rd, right? Yeah. On Labor Thanksgiving Day. She had sighed enough times that people usually didn't thank her for her work, that it was easy enough to remember. My parents said they wanted to come here to have dinner with me, and well, I was thinking you could come, too. Huh? Oh, I mean, it's fine if you don't want to. Sorry. It's not that I don't want to, but are you sure I should be intruding on your family time? Since it was your parents idea, I'm sure they'd rather spend their time with their lovely daughter. To be honest, the idea really didn't bother me. I had met the parents of other significant others before, and I was fairly practiced at meeting new people for work and interviews. I had only voiced what sounded like hesitation in the hopes of gauging exactly how seriously and with what intention she had proposed this meeting. Jeez, you know, I see them all the time. My playing dumb was purposely overt, as I certainly did know that. I wasn't trying to offend her and make my own life harder for no reason. Are you asking me to formally meet your parents? She opened her lips once, gulping both air and her resolve into an Mhm. as she nodded. That's correct. But if you don't want to, it's fine. It was clear from the number of pieces of nonotukarag as she was popping into her mouth that Saitito was waiting for my reply. I understood now her excitement when talking about Aizawa was just a Trojan horse for the true seriousness of her real motive. I assumed she didn't want me to think of her as a burden. I had probably wounded former partners that way. I didn't have to think twice about what choice to make. I just hope they think that I'm right for you. There was a certain face Saitito made when she wasn't sure just how much joy or excitement she was allowed to show. I knew exactly how to handle this. Just got to make sure they don't think that someone just as gloomy as their daughter has come along. Kaakun, I swear you are right though. That was enough to finally get a smile out of her. She seemed to live in fear of premature joy more than most people. She couldn't cope without that happiness being handed to her wrapped up in a neat little bow. As far as her life was concerned, her weariness toward feeling joy probably wasn't such a bad idea. Though it occurred to me that the joy she was feeling was still premature. Perhaps relieved that one important preliminary step was now out of the way, Saito began drinking. It seemed to me she had been drinking more heavily as of late. As I listened to her grumble about work, I wondered on what measure Saitto based introducing me to her parents as a prospective partner. If I had to put into words what she valued most in life, it would probably be a sense of accomplishment. Getting that sense of accomplishment from her work gave her the greatest joy. This was obvious from the things she spoke about on a daily basis. Her work definitely gave her a sort of hope. Thus, I had to assume that for Saitto, romance was only a means of satisfying her own lustful desires and her desire for approval as a woman. That said, it was starting to seem that her relationship with me wasn't so frivolous, but something that she imagined could progress to marriage. Was it simply because she felt like a prisoner to social norms? Well, whatever the reason, that was fine. It didn't matter to me if we got married. I would just keep existing until I died. You can detour all you like on your road back into the ground, but the destination remains the same no matter which path you take. Thanks for another great meal. We'll be back. We left the Isizakaya with plenty of time for me to catch the last train after seeing Saito home. I watched her chattering with the weight staff and gave a bow. As the sliding door clacked closed behind us, she wrapped her hand around my elbow. Sorry about asking you to meet my parents out of nowhere. I looked down to her after she spoke. She was making a face like she had just bitten into some acurate fruit. It's fine. I did figure this day might come eventually. I spat exactly the words she was hoping to hear. Thank you. I'm glad. really glad. She tittered at herself, then let go of my elbow. I've actually been nervous about this all day. Hard to imagine you getting nervous about anything. That was just a facade. She kept up, I realized. I guess it must look that way, but I'm actually a pretty anxious person. I was seriously nervous today, though. Probably the most since that time. Which time? when we held hands in that taxi on the first night we went out for drinks together. I guess that had happened. The memory had sunk down to the bottom of my muddy heart. No more or less valuable than any other. My folks are going to be so surprised I found a good man like you. All part of the usual conversational routine. I laughed back. I certainly hope so. As always, I couldn't help but notice that there was some vanity behind the trigger Saitito had pulled, something which could be mistaken for shyness. I wasn't sure to what degree, but I knew there was a side of her that saw me as some kind of ornament. It didn't bother me. I was fine with it. It was fine if our relationship was somewhat muddied. It's fine for your feelings for others to stagnate outside of the singular gust of brilliance. When it came to the meaningless rest of your life, that was all fine. We arrived in front of Saitto's building. I asked her vaguely about her plans for her day off tomorrow and said good night before leaving. Or at least that was the plan. About that night, she suddenly said, staring at her own reened palm. When the taxi stopped here, I wondered if you might come up with me. I got excited thinking about what might happen if you did. But you were ever so much the gentleman. She laughed teasingly. I knew what she was trying to say. I guess you've got work tomorrow, huh? It meant so little to me. Not just work, everything. Thus, I responded as she was hoping. I mean, I'm not so much of a gentleman that I can't leave a spare tie at a girl's place so I can head right out for work again in the morning. As long as Silito was happy, that was all that mattered. As long as I didn't cause trouble, that was all that mattered. If she still had some hope for the future, some delusion that she could be happy, that was all that mattered. I couldn't help but envy how ignorant and foolish she was. That something so simple could still make her smile. As long as you don't smoke at my place, I don't care if you do so when we're out or whatever. No, I'm going to quit. I hate leaving the smell of cigarettes on your clothes and hair. What a considerate fellow you are. It just seems obvious to me. It's not like I smoke all that much anyway. Ah, that's true. If you want me to give up smoking, I will. I mean, it's fine. I don't want you to change on my account. It's really not that big a deal, but I think it is. Giving up something you like just for someone else. That is I really wouldn't call it giving up or anything. Listen, it's fine. I think people should change for themselves, not others. For themselves, huh? Yeah. So, when the time comes for you to give up smoking, I want it to be for yourself first. Like out of concern for your own health or because you'll think it'll make you more attractive if you quit. I mean, my health is fine right now, but if it'll make me more attractive, maybe I will quit. It's hard for a guy as handsome as you to be all alone. But I've got you, don't I? Suppose so. Guess I can be there for you. In the darkness, my fingers, which once seemed to grasp life itself, limply grasps Seaitto's arm at top the 3/4 bed.

As planned, the meeting with Seaitto's parents went off without a hitch. I'm sure that I gave off the impression that I was a competent adult and implied well enough that things were going smoothly between Silto and me. I'm also sure it was clear that my income would not be an issue. Saitto was the most nervous out of anyone present. It occurred to me to ask if this was the first time she had brought a partner to meet her parents. As it turned out, it was. I was curious why I was the first, but I suppose it was a matter of age. I naturally was not nervous in the slightest. Throughout the meeting, I gauged her parents' reactions to meeting this romantic partner of their daughters. They seemed relieved, though at the same time looked like someone had taken some toy of theirs away. I gave them a proper trivial greeting as we saw them off at the hotel nearest to the station. Once we were alone, Silito invited me to stop in somewhere else. I was sure that this was a form of self-care for Seaitto, so that was fine. We stopped in at a bar we had been to before, about 10 minutes walk from the station, and sat down at a table. Thinking about it, more than half of the time I shared with Silito was spent either sleeping or eating. There was nothing else for two boring adults like us to do. She ordered a strong smelling beer, the one she always drank when she had gotten past some tough spot at work or in her private life. She took a sip of the Leafroy she had ordered from the bartender, and heaved a heavy sigh. "Thanks for everything," she said. I really have to thank you. I was a little nervous, but it was fun. Really? I got so worn out just freaking out about whether one of my parents might say something weird. She let out another sigh and clanked her glass to mine almost as an afterthought. They really liked you. I sure hope so. They were absolutely gushing when you left to go to the restroom. Just because someone said something about someone else when they weren't present, didn't mean that evaluation was true. Saitto's position in that moment was half a family member, half my dating partner. Obviously, they weren't going to be entirely frank in front of their daughter. Not that there was really any need for me to be certain of their true feelings. I sipped my drink in time with her. Every few times you took a sip while drinking with someone else, you were bound to lift your glasses at the same time. Doing so kept the rhythm of the conversation steady and your partner in good spirits. As we continued discussing the night's events, Saitito changed her glass out for a second drink and a third. I'm glad that they liked this, too. She lifted up the necklace that hung from her neck, eyes moist. I had given it to her at midnight the night before as a birthday gift. Yeah, they said it was cute, didn't they? That's not what I'm happy about, though. It's cute because a professional made it to be cute. Obviously, it'd be cute. Through her intoxication, she seemed awfully proud of the conclusion she had come to. I'm happy because they thought I suited the necklace I was wearing. Not that the jewelry suited you. Well, yeah, because it's something that you chose based on our memories and what you thought I would like. I'm happy that other people can see it, too. I wondered exactly what was so great about that, and the moment's pause, born of that thought, apparently conveyed my doubts to Silito. Or perhaps she had merely intended to explain herself from the start. I don't think there's anything that could make someone happier than knowing they're in their beloved's thoughts. I see. I understood what she was saying, but I couldn't empathize. That's a very you way to put it. Come on, stop making fun of me. Grinning in a way that was not at all unhappy, Silito ordered another drink from the bartender. I don't know about having anybody in my thoughts, but I chose it because I thought it would make you happy. That wasn't a lie. It was simply the best choice for putting her in a good mood. No matter how you tried to put it into words, you could never truly know someone else's heart. So, that was enough. There was no need for empathy. We both just had to play the appropriate parts. I had even chosen that statement because I thought it would make her happy. However, she didn't react with a smile and a blush as I'd expected. "Say Kayakun," she started, but did not continue. It was that typical cowardice of hers, leaving Saitto unable to speak if the other party wasn't interested. I looked at her curiously. "What? Am I enough for you?" It was an abstract question, one to which I did not have an immediate answer. It wasn't that I couldn't answer, but I could sense that the appropriate response was silence. Sorry, I don't know what I'm saying. I even had you meet my parents. Everything's just moved so fast from that first night up until now. So, I guess to put it nicely, it it almost seems like fate. Wasn't she the one who liked to insist that there was no such thing as fate in this world? I guess I've just been kind of worried. About what? That I'm hogging your future. She took a gulp of the amber colored liquid. I don't know about marriage or anything like that, but if we keep on like this, I might be stealing precious years away from you. Though, I sure hope that won't be the case. She left off at another awkward spot. She mistakenly thought that not spelling everything out meant that she was letting the other party have their say, or else she was just pretending to have that misconception. But leaving words that should be said unspoken was only a way to try to get the other person to complete your thought. It was as good as trying to bring someone under your control. Of course, knowing all that, I finished her words for her. We might take different paths one day and we might grow apart. That's true. But even so, I'll never think of the time I've spent with you as a loss. None of my time was even valuable enough to be wasted. We might have years or decades ahead of us. There might be marriage, children, and more in our future. But none of that was a problem for me. There was nothing that I could hope to gain by using my time any other way. It was probably for the best that Saitito used me to her heart's content. She could use me to experience that gale of excitement in her free time. And then, if the two of us lived together like zombies once the gale left her, it was just as fine. That was the sort of pair we were. On the off chance she was able to read my mind, I wondered if she would be mad at me for belittling her. She smiled bashfully and said, "Look at you acting all cool." With an elbow jab that didn't connect. When you put it that way, though, there's actually something I'm curious about. Yeah. Uh-huh. She set her glass down for a moment, the liquid inside slloshing, and tilted her head slightly. "Have you ever had a love that you'll never forget?" she asked with that same light in her eyes that had long since left mine. I was confident, certain even, that Silto knew nothing about me. But I could still feel the hackles rising on some part of me that I could never show her. But through all the endless hours, I had learned to hide that part of myself, so I doubted she could read the bristling that coursed through my marrow. One or two, maybe. They do say that men tend to keep an old flame or two around in the back of their minds. She couldn't possibly have read me, and yet she muttered something inconceivable. Liar. The word that fell from her lips in that hush tone slunk around my feet. I could almost picture a tightening around my legs. She took another sip of her drink after giving me a smile, one that suggested the muscles of her face had formed it regardless of her emotions. Liar, she said. What could that mean? Had I made her think that something about me was a lie? Could she read some part of me? Had she sensed something about me? Silto of all people. What am I lying about? I asked. Her smile widened. Well, I mean, I bet you've always been popular. I'm sure it's not just one or two. That was a lie, too. And I was sure that she had said it knowing that I would realize. If she had wanted me to think that she was being serious, her words would have matched her tone. So then why? If what had nestled itself within me was something common to this world, if it was something that everyone experienced, then it wouldn't be shocking for her to guess what was going on in my head. But it was nothing like that. Silto could not possibly imagine. It was beyond imagining. I pushed no further. If I did, I realized it would have destroyed our relationship, which had been progressing with corpse-like placidity thus far. in an instant. Perhaps whatever was hidden within her could deal a fatal blow to our relationship.

A few days later, though, I got a call that might eliminate any need to worry about such things. My company was recommending that I be transferred somewhere far away. A surprise transfer had always been on the table. There was no point in hiding it. I decided to ask Saitel out the next day and tell her. It was the night before her day off. I knew that telling her I had something important to talk about would only frighten her, so I invited her over for dinner as casually as possible. I told her I had gotten a nice bottle of wine from my boss. I did not want to leave this tale with an anticlimactic ending, no matter how Silito reacted to my news. So, I thought it wise to have her over to my place, somewhere where neither of us could leave without fully making our intentions known. There was nothing peculiar about this. I had invited her over plenty of times before for the sake of an alibi. Incidentally, I had lied about the wine. Once both our work days were said and done, I met up with her at the station and we headed for my place. We passed through the generic condo entrance, exchanging a friendly greeting with a parent and child we passed by. When I unlocked the door and stepped inside, I could smell the lifelessness of my own home. Stark a place as ever," she remarked. "It's the same size as my place, but it feels so much bigger. I'll take your coat." I hung both our jackets on hangers. As she had noted, there was nothing in my home beyond the bare essentials for living. I had only a minimal amount of furniture and appliances, plus a computer, no television or bookshelf in sight, much less any decorative items. After she finished gargling in the bathroom, I called her over to the L-shaped sofa that sat framing the coffee table. You want to start with the wine? I do have beer and stuff, too. Well, it's a special occasion. Let's wait until the food gets here. Waiter, a beer, if you would. Gladly, miss. I poured one of her favorite canned beers into a glass and placed it on the table. Pour the rest how you like, I told her, and then returned to the kitchen. At Saitto's request, I'd ordered Italian food for delivery. I'd bought some cheese to tide us over until the food arrived, and I piled it on a plate and placed it before her. I opened a beer myself in response to her thanks, and sat down kitty corner to her. I could have just launched immediately into the topic at hand, not bothering to wait for the food. But given that the conversation might result in a loss of appetite, I thought it best to fill our stomachs first. As we waited for the food to arrive, I filled Saitto in on this fictitious boss of mine. I set him up as a good-natured single guy who enjoyed trying out different restaurants. I also explained that the wine had been a gift for finishing up some last minute work for him. After a little while, the doorbell rang and a young man, probably college-aged, handed us a number of dishes. Saitito and I placed them on the table with plates and chopsticks. And then I set some glasses on the table alongside the red wine. Silaitto had already drained her second beer. After we poured the wine and said our thanks, Silaitto, who had just taken a bit of salad, put her hand to her mouth happily. Is delivery food getting good these days or what? It really is. We sampled all the dishes as we carried on a vapid conversation. The wine seemed to suit her pallet. Every item tasted as bland to me as ever. As always, here I was eating with her. We shared an active connection only in the things that had a direct link to living. The only other things for us to do were the necessary tasks to lead a hassle-free life. That was why I needed to have a talk with Seaitto, my girlfriend, about the future. With a sip of wine in my mouth, I waited for the right moment. I opened up the chicken fritters and tried to catch a gap in Silito's chatter, thinking it was about the right time. However, Silito, who had really picked up the pace in her imbibing, chose that moment of all times to knock over a glass full of wine. Casting a sidelong glance at her as she panicked, I grabbed some dish towels from the kitchen and sopped up the spill. I tasked her with separating the food that was still edible from what had been soaked in wine. God, I'm so sorry. I think I'm drunk. That's unusual for you. I haven't been getting much sleep lately. That might be why it's getting to me. As I noted concern for her health, the conversation shifted to the usual cvetching about Silito's work. We had completely blown past the moment for the subject I wanted to bring up, but we still had plenty of time. It's like there's this misogynistic side to my boss and every time it crops up in casual conversation, I have to wonder like what is going on in this office. I see. I think it'd be one thing if you were really happy there, but have you thought about moving to a different station? I can't say I haven't, but it's not realistic considering I don't have a whole lot to show for myself right now. Despite having already noted how drunk she was, Saitito took another swig of her drink. So, she had been backed into a corner by her job, the thing that was supposed to be her own detra. I wondered how she really felt about that. If she felt betrayed, then perhaps that gust of hers already had one foot out the door. Or perhaps it meant that her once-in-a-lifetime gust had nothing to do with her work in the first place. After a while, Silito had finally aired out enough complaints to satisfy herself. Or maybe she was simply tired. She clapped her hands together and said, "Sorry for griping so much in the middle of such a good meal." "It's fine. Food that tastes good always tastes good," I said when suddenly the perfect pass came hurdling my way. "On the previous note, have you ever thought about changing careers or anything?" she asked. I glanced upward, then tilted my head as though I was thinking hard. Well, there really was no need for me to contemplate it since I had just been given the perfect setup for the talk I already wanted to have. Thus, my reaction was only what I felt constituted the appropriate hesitation to a sudden question from a lover. What's up? Well, actually, there was something that I wanted to talk to you about today on that subject. Her right eyebrow twitched at my tone. What year? Her mouth clamped shut as though she was trying to force back the words scaring me. That probably would have followed. That was how it looked to me anyway. Choosing my words carefully, I explained to her that I might be transferred. I told her everything, not concealing any detail, the timing, how long, and that the proposed location would be quite far away. There was no point in hiding anything. The most important part was what would come after I had clearly outlined the facts. Anyway, nothing's been decided yet. We're still just in talks, but um I wanted to get your opinion on it. What would you do if I got transferred? Unlike mine, her sigh probably actually came from the heart. I realized that neither of us could easily quit our jobs, I continued. But to be honest, I don't want to have to end things with you either. Still, it's like you said before, I'm worried that if we couldn't see each other as much anymore, I'd just be wasting your time. This was largely a lie, but it was true that I wasn't actively hoping to end things with Zaitto. I was ultimately leaving the decision up to her. I had no problem with carrying on a long-distance relationship, and if she decided to break up with me on the spot, I would accept that just as well. As long as there wasn't any lingering animosity, I didn't care either way. I waited as she took one pensive sip, then another. I figured that just staring at her while she thought would put unnecessary pressure on her. So, I took a bite of some of the food that was still left on the table. It was important to determine whether a partner's silence was merely a step toward a statement of intent or whether that silence itself was the statement. In this case, I knew that Saito was trying to think of something to say, so it was best for me to simply wait. After a gap, I felt her aim her sights on me. Like you said before, Kaakun, I don't think that any time spent with you could possibly be a waste. Uh-huh. So, if you're all right with it, I don't think the distance is enough to break us up immediately. But I do think we should decide which way this is going to go. She had a showy way of putting it, as usual. You mean whether we're going to break up now or later? I asked, tilting my head. She smiled thinly, shaking her head like a tree branch swaying in the wind. No, that's not what I mean. Then what did she mean? Which way? She'd said. She took another sip of her drink in place of taking a breath. Then maybe I'll just quit. Huh? Despite my confusion, the thin smile on her lips rippled across her whole face. Maybe I'll just quit my job and go with you. For the first time in ages, someone had actually managed to surprise me. But even the shock of that soon faded. I think we should discuss this when you aren't drunk. Delusional was the apt term for her current state of mind. Saitto would never throw her career away for some man. Even if she wouldn't have used the word gust, she herself should have realized that her youth and herandetra were likely based in her work. I am drunk, but that's not why I'm saying this. Then I thought a bit about this before. About what? I'd wondered what I might do if something happened with you and I couldn't continue my current work. that wasn't even worth considering. That kind of absurd thinking didn't suit her in the slightest. Obviously, my work is important to me and it's given me a lot of irreplaceable experiences, but if I had to quit my job to live with you, I do think that option is on the table. I still feel that way. She was talking about a slight misunderstanding as though it were something quite grave. I was willing to spend the effort to correct this. Even if you came with me, there's no guarantee you'd be able to find a job like the one you have now. I said this in a sincere, non-judgmental tone. That's true. I've always wanted to try working at a record shop or something, though. Wonder if any would be hiring. It didn't seem like she'd gotten what I was trying to say in the slightest. I immediately gave a listen as she talked about this as though she was thrilled about this future full of possibilities, pressing my lips in a way that I normally wouldn't. Drunk or no, she was talking nonsense and my irritation was starting to show. You really need to think this over, I said. Do you not want me to come with you? Is this your subtle way of breaking up with me? That's not it. But weren't you the one who just said that your work is irreplaceable? She agreed without any hesitation. Yeah. I can't let my circumstances take that job away from you. That job or her gust of wind. Bold of you to think you could take anything from me. I'd never let anyone take that from me. No one's circumstances matter but my own. If I need to quit, then I'll quit of my own valition. I said it before, didn't I? People should change for their own sakes. I suppose she had said that. I had no idea when, though. It felt like it had happened both recently and a long time ago. So, I'm saying that if I quit my job, it's because I want to go with you. And I mean, there's still a chance you won't be transferred. And I still have some work I'd need to wrap up. So, it's not like I could just up and leave either. I listened closely to what she was saying. Chills ran down my spine. Why hadn't I realized it sooner? It felt like I had just rounded a corner and suddenly come face to face with something terrifying. So, I don't need you to feel responsible for this. I'm just saying that if the time comes, I'll be prepared. Though, if this isn't what you want, then never mind. Of course, you've dated me long enough to know that I won't back down without a fight, even if you tell me no. She gave a clownish grin and took another drink. Bit by bit, I was realizing what those chills meant. No way. It was dawning on me what it was Silito had been hiding from me all this time. If what I was thinking was true, then what a monumental fool I had been. But that was understandable, perhaps. How could I have known that the person here beside me would have such a ridiculous thought, even for a moment? I instinctively took another sip of my own drink. I didn't want to believe this. Now that I think about it, we have been dating a while. As she said, the two of us had spent quite a lot of time together. I thought about our relationship up until now. Then I looked again at the face of the woman in front of me. Our eyes met, the expectancy in her gaze confirming for me the identity of the terror I felt rising inside of me. The signs had been everywhere. I hoped desperately that she was lying. Kaakun, what's the matter? I I was thinking, had I misread her? Was I wrong about what I should have felt toward her? I stared into her eyes. All this time, I had envied that light that lingered in her eyes. I had dated her thinking that she was someone still being blown by her own wind, that she was someone who would enjoyed that wind for a long while yet thanks to her work, and that she was someone who might hold the secret of living an enviable life. But I realize now that I might have been fully mistaken. Were you actually planning on breaking up with me today? She said this jokingly, but there was a sincere fear in her eyes, and I tried to gauge what was going through her mind. Why was she looking at me like that? What was so scary about the idea of being without me? For Silto, I was nothing more than one of the many men she might meet in her life. It just so happened that we were former classmates, and that through a number of coincidences aligning, we had reunited. So why would she be so afraid that I, just one of the various men she had dated, might disappear from her life? Couldn't she just find someone else? Wasn't she just keeping me around so that she could have someone to satisfy her lust and her need for approval close at hand? Was that not it? I hallucinated cracks forming in her eyeballs. I cursed my own foolishness. Say h. This was out of hand. I have to do this. We need to talk. Wait, what now? Her fear redoubled, and I could see that she realized this, trying to twist herself away from it with the power of will and alcohol. The smile she faced me with looked to me like nothing but sorrow. There's something important I have to tell you. What? You're scaring me?

She voiced her own terror. "Sorry for scaring you. I meant that sincerely."

"If I were my normal self, the person I had been until now, I might have chosen my words with a bit more consideration for how her heart worked. But I have to do this. I had to tell her the truth. Please don't look at me like that. She had to know the sort of person I truly was. It would be far too cruel for her to have to live not knowing that. I'm sorry. If I did this now, there might still be time. Without that, Gail, that briefest time in a person's life, you could not be saved. We had to be allowed to live our lives dwelling on that time alone. Naturally, even Saitto deserved that chance. She couldn't live her life thinking that I was her gale."

"Sounds like a fire truck. Wonder if there's a fire nearby," Saito said as though to try and disperse the tension that filled the room. She took a sip of water. "Say, you need to listen to me."

"Ah, here we go then." One corner of her mouth quirked up. It looked a bit cruel, but I nodded. There's really nothing else left for us to do. Kaakun, have you done something? Nothing. She was acting as though I had utterly lost my mind. But that wasn't true. This was the sort of person I had always been. She just hadn't been aware of that fact. To be frank, it hadn't been necessary for her to know. But now that time had passed. I'm guessing you think this is about to be some kind of breakup talk, but it's not. Silto had to know the truth. She took another sip of water, readying herself. I heard her swallow. That might end up being the conclusion we come to, but I just want you to know that there isn't anything that's led me to believe we should split. I don't get what you're saying, but I have no intention of breaking up with you. I'm just thinking that after this you might want some space. Have you been cheating on me?" She joked. She had a very common sense way of thinking when it came to romance. I suppose that I have been lying to you, but not about an affair or anything like that. She waited for me to continue. Or rather, same as Saitto often did. I paused for a breath before getting to the crux of the matter. This felt like the first time I was telling her the truth.

"I can't love anyone," I said decisively, then continued before she had a chance to respond or interject, "which also means that I would never betray a girlfriend or spouse for the love of another." She stared at me silently, taking in my words, deciphering them, and processing them. "I mean, that's fine, isn't it? If it's difficult for you to love people, it's not that it's difficult. It's impossible. At least now anyway."

"When you say you can't love anyone," she repeated. It seemed she finally understood what I was trying to say. "Does that include me?" I was glad that she did have some faculties of reasoning. After far too long, I nodded. "Yeah, I don't think that I could call what I feel for you love of any variety. It isn't even friendship or a sentimental attachment from us growing up in the same town." I kept my eyes firmly locked on hers so that she could be certain I was being sincere. "As far as I'm concerned, your..." Never once had I addressed her so bluntly. That was probably because it would have hurt her pride, which was proportional to her severe lack of confidence. "A former classmate who I happened to run into, and when we formed an acquaintance ship, I thought that I might as well date you. That's all you are to me, just an opportunity." Her hands, which had been folded to top her knees, unclasped.

"But isn't that what most dating is like?"

"That's not what I'm saying." I looked her square in the eye, shaking my head to distance myself from her assumptions. "Even now, I still don't really like you." Say, "There was no point in waiting for her to question this." So I continued, "My feelings for you right now are no different than that day we met at the station when you were just some stranger sitting next to me."

She fell silent, but it wasn't a strong enough reaction that I'd call it shock. She looked as though she was trying to determine how much of what I was saying was true. "I mean exactly what I'm saying. I'm sorry that I've deceived you. Honestly, I intended to keep on deceiving you. Or well, maybe I would have told you this after the wind in your sails finally left you. Still, I've never once thought about ending our association, at least not while you still have that gale."

"Uh, Gail?" There was no question in her eyes. It seemed she was merely paritting an unfamiliar word. "I have a theory that everyone has a wind that blows at some point in their life. You could think of it as something else if you like. Your peak, your greatest memories, something like that. Once we've tasted that in our lives, we're empty without it. Simply whing away the rest of our days with the fond memory of that sensation. It seems to me that that gale hasn't left you yet. I used to think that I was jealous of that. And honestly, I probably still am."

Saitto slowly peeled her pressed lips apart to reveal her tongue, which flicked vacantly a few times as though she were pretending to speak before she declared willfully, "This is the peak of my life. And you don't think this gale has left me yet? I don't. You still aren't empty like I am. No matter how empty you might end up after, I feel like everyone has the right to experience that gale at least once in their life. Hold it. So, why did you even bring this up?"

"Please, just listen to what I'm about to say." I didn't sound like I was getting through to her, but she lowered her eyes to the table and nodded twice. "I have to tell you this," I continued. Her eyes came back up to me. "I'd always thought that the gale was something you'd get from your work. You're saying you think work is the most important thing to me."

"I did, but earlier it seemed like you were just fine with throwing that job away. Moreover, you were fine tossing it aside for me. But there's no chance, not even the slightest, of me getting to feel that gale again." Her brow wrinkled, perhaps in denial, but I pushed forward right through whatever it was that she was about to say. "I mean, even if that's not true right now, I can't possibly risk that possibility. But it seemed you were headed that way, and I couldn't bear the thought, so I had to tell you this." I deliberately hit her with a barrage of assertions, intrusive arguments, and pity, all of which would be hard for Silto to swallow given her character. I didn't mind if she got angry at me for this. Same if she was sad or spiteful. I didn't even care if how incomprehensible this was had frightened her. Whatever her reaction was, all I cared about was that she distanced herself from me. Having spent enough time with her, no matter how idle, I had some measure of faith that she was wise enough to know when to give up on a relationship.

"Kaakun." When she finally broke the silence and said my name, there was neither anger nor sadness in her voice. "What was your Gail?" she asked as though that was the most important thing. Though I couldn't see why it mattered. Though I couldn't comprehend how she was feeling, I actually had planned to tell her about this. Regardless of whether or not she cared, I needed her to know what had shaped me into the person I was today. I needed her to know that I was a unique specimen even among all those who had tasted that gale in their lives. And I needed her to be able to give up on me.

"If you really want to know, I guess I can tell you."

"Tell me." I had never told this to anyone before. I couldn't pretend I wasn't nervous. However, there was a reason that I was sharing this special thing that existed within only me to Saitto. "My gale blew back." Then I spoke with placid emotion, falling into the memories of those days that lingered in my heart as I always did, as I had done so many times before.

"Back then, you mean when we were in high school?"

"Yeah, when I was 16, to be precise. I have no idea how others saw me back then, but I was bored with living and always irritable. I was constantly looking for something that would give my life some real meaning. It sounded stupid when I said it out loud. I spent my time trying out lots of different stuff and getting disappointed with it. Then I met a girl and I fell in love." Saitto's eyebrows lifted ever so slightly. "She lived in a different world, one separate from this one. I could only meet with her at a specific bus stop, and all I could see of her body were her eyes and nails." Unsurprisingly, Saitito looked at me inscrutably. "Was she a ghost?"

"Not to me. That bus stop connected our world to hers. And I'm 100% certain that she existed. I was able to touch her. And I was even able to put things from her world in my mouth. That's..." She appeared to be desperately trying to align what I was saying with her own common sense. "Are you sure you didn't just dream it for some reason or other?" Though she didn't spell it out, it was obvious that she thought I had hallucinated this, whether from an illness or some other foreign contaminant within my body. Though it should go without saying I was not showing any symptoms of such an illness at the time, nor had I ingested anything strange. "It wasn't a dream. I saw her lots of times. Whether or not anyone else believes me, though, it doesn't change how vividly real it was to me. So much so that I could never forget my memories. So it's fine if you don't believe me."

"Keep going." It was probably a point of pride for Silaitto that she would never claim to believe something that easily. Her achingly pointless pride. Pride that would never accept that all the time she spent with someone like me was a complete waste. "Every night I went to that bus stop to see her. I'd wait inside the pitch black bus shelter for her to arrive. I realized that maybe I should explain that she came down into a basement safe house, but that would have complicated the story a bit, so I left that part out. Once every few days, she would arrive from that other world. I couldn't see her whole human form, only her glowing eyes and nails. I thought that she'd have some kind of knowledge, some intel I could get from her that would make my life special, but that didn't go very well. As much as we tried to share our cultures with one another, we couldn't share tastes or smells, and it was impossible to read any writing. The only things we could share were our words. But there's not a lot you can do with just learning rules or customs from another world. I shared my memories with her from start to finish. What's most important is that we were able to have some sort of real effect on each other's worlds. The same sort of stuff happened in both places. Like if you broke something here, something there would break, too." We had now reached an unavoidable subject, something that we could go no further without discussing. We tried to find out if there was a way to utilize this connection to help one another. The next name I spoke was not an accident, but fully intentional. "In the course of these experiments, I lost a dog belonging to Tanaka, the girl who sat beside me in class."

As I had predicted, Silito looked at me suspiciously. She was probably trying to weigh whether my story or her own recollection was more accurate. However, she swiftly demanded an answer of me. "Okay. Sorry if I'm just remembering wrong or if I forgot something, but yeah. Was there ever a Tanaka in our class?"

"Nope. There was no point in waiting for her to ask the obvious follow-up to that. Back then, I tended to just lump all our classmates together, classifying them as Tanakas. A common average name for the sort of common average person you'd find anywhere and everywhere. Nothing special about them." The words seemed to hit her with some measurable force, the impact of which spread across her features, but I wasn't done talking yet.

"Did that include me?"

"No." Her face immediately relaxed at this, but unfortunately, I had to burst her bubble. "The ones who conducted themselves a little bit differently from the Tanakas got a different name. I looked her in the eye. I thought of you as Silaitto back then and that hasn't changed one bit. Even now, you're a Silito to me. Nothing more, nothing less." There must have been a million different emotions overlapping within her, informing her expression. Seeing where her face ended up put me at ease.

"What the hell?" That night, for the first time ever, I saw a true despair in the eyes of Silto Sanay, or rather Sunay. "You've probably figured it out by now, but that dog's name was Alumi, and its owner's real name was Aawa Shiori. In essence, it's my fault that Alumi died." I continued laying out the facts for her as I prepared two cups of coffee in the kitchen, setting one in front of Saitto.

"I never heard about this before," she repeated softly, staring at the tabletop.

"That's because I didn't tell anyone."

"I see. Hey," she said, looking up at me for the first time in some minutes as I sat down on the sofa. "Is this all true?"

"It is all of it. Even about you causing Shichan's dog's death?"

"Yep. In essence, anyway. Alumi ended up dead because I stole it away." For a second, I thought I saw her cheeks droop, but there was no reason for her to make such an expression, so I must have misjudged her reaction somehow. Her face soon returned to the same tint as before.

"Silto, that's what I call you even now. Was everything you've ever said to me a lie?" I supposed it was important to figure out what specifically she was referring to. I thought hard about all the things I could remember saying to her. "I don't know if I would say that it was all a lie." This time, her face really did loosen up. There was a reason for that. I had purposely chosen my words to make it happen. "I knew that if you wanted to really let someone down, it was best to get their hopes up first. I picked the words I thought you wanted to hear, the things that would make you like me. I knew that would make things go more smoothly." I figured that here I would see a more downtrodden expression on her face than ever before, but I only saw her features continue to relax. I wondered if I had not yet done enough and kept going.

"Like I said before, I'm no longer capable of romantic feelings. To be more precise, I left those feelings behind 15 years ago." Even after this addition, she showed no signs of despair. She just looked down and took a sip of the coffee that I had left on the table for her.

"So," she said as daintily as dropping a sugar cube into a coffee cup, "your gale was love." As the words hit my ears, I got the sensation of needles being driven into my fingertips. In the moment, I remembered a conversation we had once shared. She had asked me if I ever had an unforgettable love and called me a liar. At the time, I hadn't been able to unravel the true shape of her feelings, but it had now become clear she was likely harboring some jealousy, wondering if there was some rival lingering in my heart that she needed to know about.

"So, this girl you liked, what was she like?" I had to wonder what the driving philosophy might be behind wanting to know more about someone you felt jealous of. Was it so that you could convince yourself to give up? Or so you could snag a victory? Whatever the reason, the only choice here was to tell her the truth. "I called her Chika, this girl of only eyes and nails. I pictured those lights floating in the darkness. She was always calm in demeanor. She had a lot of interests and loved things like books and perfume, though of course those are all things of her world, so I never got to fully experience them."

"I see," she said casually, waiting for me to continue. "In terms of species, I don't think she was a human. Though I couldn't see her, I was able to feel her body, and I definitely felt arms and legs and a face there, but her blood glowed, and her hair had a weird texture." I opened and closed my right hand twice, trying to recall the sensation. In that moment, Silito took another sip of coffee, clinking the cup back down onto the table. It was as if she was signaling for something to happen.

"So, were you two dating? You and that alien girl?" I sensed a variety of emotions in her tone. Fear, astonishment, and hatred for this man who would start talking with deadly sincerity about a creature from another world when we were on the cusp of a breakup. The reservations that those emotions called forth were skepticism. Seaitto was clearly wondering how seriously she should be taking me. But regardless of how Silito felt, it didn't matter to me.

"No, her world had no concept of romance. So, so I taught her about romance," I said, bulldozing straight through whatever she had been about to say. I poured everything I had into making this person from another world understand what love was, what lovers were, what lovers do together. How she understood and pictured my fantastical explanation probably depended on what media she had digested and what sort of romantic experiences she'd had. Either way, I was certain she got the message, that it wasn't just some trifling words. "Yes, what Chika and I had was special. The feelings I had for Chika were unparalleled. The light that Chika had shown on me shone nowhere else in this world. No matter how dreadfully basic of a person I was, that alone was crystal clear. I have no idea how well Chikah actually grasped my feelings, but we worked hard to try to understand one another. No matter what the future held for us, we were happy as long as there were things that we could share. It was true. That was all I needed. The things that Chika gave me and the things I feel for her were my everything in this life, in this world, they still are. She was the only one who could ever change me. But that gale left me too soon."

Saitto's lips parted audibly again. Suddenly, I could no longer hear her voice, and she vanished right in front of me. I waited and waited, but I never saw her again after that. I had a wealth of hypotheses about this, but in turning it over so many times since then, I had come to believe that I was the reason that I stopped being able to understand her words. That night, she had rejected me. She distanced herself from me emotionally, and I could no longer comprehend her. I thought about it over and over until the film of my memory started to fray. Perhaps I was mistaken, but at this point, there was no possible way for me to confirm nor deny it. "When Chika left me, my life ended. This time we're spending right now is nothing more than me waiting out the rest of my days. It could end at any time. In fact, I hope it ends sooner. I'm just here because I can't bring myself to do something as involved as actively dying. Sitting here on this couch facing Seaitto and even talking about Chika were just ways of killing time until my body perished. All I can do until I meet my end is to sit here treasuring my memories of Chika. There is nothing left inside me but the part of me that cares for her. I couldn't possibly give anyone else's life meaning and no one could ever bring any sort of meaning to mine."

If I were to offer Saitto anything resembling sincerity, no matter how fake, I knew that muddling my words and making her guess at my meaning was not the way to do it. "Sai, I've never considered myself in love with Saitto." From this distance, there was no way she could not have heard me. The thrming of my words would have carried straight into her brain. She looked at me dead on, falling silent, perhaps processing my words in her own way. I wondered what reaction she might show me in the seconds that followed. Given it was her, I figured she would do whatever would best let her save face. Wailing or seething with rage would only wound her pride. I figured she would pretend to be calm and then say something dramatic about accepting the particulars of the situation. As it turned out, my guess was mostly correct.

"I suppose I can imagine things." I assumed that this was a prompt for me to ask what she meant. Before now, I would have given her exactly what she wanted, but I couldn't bear the thought of her mistaking that for kindness. So, I kept my mouth shut. But apparently she wasn't actually waiting for me to reply.

"I wouldn't call it a gale, but I understand the feeling of encountering something that turns you and your whole world upside down, of being held captive by that for the rest of your life." It seems Silito still was not understanding me. "No, those feelings were my everything." I started to try to explain myself again, to chide her, to persuade her, but this ended in failure.

"You and I are alike." I pondered what she meant. "We're the same when it comes to how you feel about that girl. The same." Nothing could possibly compare to Chica. "Back then, I encountered something that changed my life in the way that girl Chika changed yours. Something that has held me captive ever since." Hearing her so utterly disregard what was special about Chika, I felt an impossible sensation clawing itself up from the pit of my stomach. Yes, I waited for her words. Perhaps because some part of me felt there was a possibility that even Saitto might have had some encounter, some feeling that existed nowhere else in this world.

"For me, I waited. It was music."

"That's not the same." I'm sure that some part of me tried to hold back the words that came spewing out. Yet fittingly, now that I had spat them out, there was no longer any need for me to keep up appearances for her. "No, it's not the same," she continued. "But I'm sure that I felt the same thing you did."

"Don't."

"Don't what?" Her expression changed. She had the calm of someone who had seen the monster's true guys and was no longer afraid. What gushed forth from me in the face of this was rage, pure and unadulterated, the first I had felt in so long. "Don't you dare compare her to some meaningless art form."

"That girl means just as little to me."

"But she's someone irreplaceable to you, isn't she? What could you possibly know about us?" The earnest shrug she gave was like nails dragging down my back. "I don't know anything. I could never understand the things that are important to other people when I don't even really know what music, which I cherish so much, is to me. And you'd put that on par with what I coughed, cutting myself off." At first, I thought my own anger had crystallized and torn a hole in my throat. Even in that moment, though, I still minded the ingrained societal edict that you should turn away from other people's faces when you cough. "It's too big for me to really understand, but I've been thinking about it this whole time. How much did you really understand that girl, Kaakun?"

"I... I'm guessing you're held prisoner by her because you don't have the slightest idea what she really is to you."

"You're wrong. Saying that I was held captive implied that if Chika were to vanish from my heart, I could actually come to value something else. I could not. I had made it this far only by the warmth of those feelings deep inside me. Feelings that nothing else in this world could give me. There was no one more important than Chika. There was no one as precious as her. Only I could fully understand these feelings entirely unique to me. I wasn't like Silito, who just had some vague admiration for someone else's creations. I was nothing like someone of that ilk. How dare she sully my light with her cheap sympathy?"

"I really thought that music saved me. I thought that as long as I still had a love for it, I would be fine. But when I realized that I didn't really understand anything about it and that it hadn't been trying to save me, it broke my heart. So, I'm still trying to determine what it is that music means to me." I noticed something like joy wrapped up in her expression, which riled me all the more. "I don't even have to think about Chica and me. I'm not like you."

"What did you like about her, Kaakun?"

"all of her. I didn't have to think twice. I knew just what to say. I adored Chika's very existence."

"I don't mean something that vague. I want to hear it in your own words. You..." Why was she coming for Chika like this? Why was she trying to stand in the way of my light? Did she doubt what I was saying? Or was she just jealous of Chika? If she wanted to know so badly, I would tell her. I searched back in my memories. "Chika is the only thing inside of my heart that could never fade away. She affirmed the whole of my being. And she wasn't just making you think that."

I found myself utterly at a loss for words at this insolence. "It's impossible to fully understand another person. To affirm them utterly and completely. Basing your feelings entirely on someone else's affirmation of you isn't the same as loving them. What could have possibly possessed her to keep piling on? I had evolved beyond rage to sheer vertigo. How utterly could Saitto could this say lack any kind of judgment? Had she always been this hopelessly thoughtless? People fall in love with even the parts of the object of their affection that they can't see. It's the same whether you love a person or a thing. Maybe for all of you, I thought for you Tanakas and Saito, but my feelings for Chika are different. They're special. Special. No matter how worthless I might be, these feelings matter. I had certain ideals when it came to music. something shapeless, formless. I even thought that it affirmed me to the fullest. But even with that love, I still have to keep moving forward on my own two feet. Hearing you talk about Chika, you reminded me of how I used to be. You know, together we could..."

I heard a switch flip within me. "That's enough. It wasn't for dramatic effect or any other particular reason that I cut her off. There was simply no need for me to listen to anything else she had to say. You can stop right there, Silto." It made sense if you thought about it. Why was she spewing all these incomprehensible things? How could she be so misguided as to think that her own experiences could apply to me? The things I had experienced were special, something that no one else had ever experienced. She just had no self-awareness. I had always believed myself to be a boring, run-of-the-mill individual, and I suppose I truly was. But my encounter with Chica was a miracle. Thus, perhaps it was inevitable that Silito, who lacked any shred of real understanding, would make logical conjectures from commonplace sources from the myriad of things she had experienced in her own life or what she had heard from others. What was I even getting so angry for? What more could I have expected of her? She was nothing more than a simple sight. She wasn't like a chika at all.

"Just leave, please." She looked at me surprised. It was an utterly boilerplate reaction. "I don't think we should have anything else to do with each other." I had fully predicted her next reaction as well. Something like anger. A sense of betrayal crossed her face and then she said something completely off the mark.

"You aren't going to tell me anything."

"If that nothing of a response is the best you can give me, then I don't need to tell you anything else about Chika." With that, the damn of her anger finally seemed to burst.

"WHY WOULD YOU SAY IT LIKE THAT?"

I said nothing. "Why are you acting like you're the only one who understands anything?" I wasn't. The only thing that should have read on my face was boredom at having to put up with such dril from someone who hadn't even yet tasted their gale. She glared at me. "You arrogant little..." I didn't think that I was making a face that would have warranted such hostility.

"You're just hung up on some girl from the past."

"That's right. I could have just sat there and accepted her abuse, but my keeping silent wouldn't be enough to make her back down." I affirmed her assertions as she hurled her insults as though to wash my hands of her and simply waited for her to fall back on her own. "You are 100% correct. Enough of this already." I looked away. I figured she might toss the coffee that was close at hand in my face or maybe sling more abuse in an attempt to elicit a reaction from me.

"What the hell is this, Chica? You say she affirmed everything about you. She's just as stupid as you are. See what I meant? Maybe you aren't upset that I'm making fun of a girl you used to love. If you only saw her eyes and nails, doesn't that mean that you fell in love with your imagination? What if you filled in the rest of her based on what you wanted to see? You're probably right. The only thing you actually shared was conversation, right? You never really saw eye to eye, so you probably just got fascinated with whatever you selfishly interpreted her to be. That's entirely possible. And was that girl even actually there? It's seriously twisted to say you'd never forget someone that you just made up in your head. That is also true."

"Get angry." She stood up, huffing through her nose. I saw her hands trembling out of the corner of my eye. "If this girl was so important to you that you'd say there's no point in living, that you'd say that all the time we spent together was a lie. If you'd say that back then was the only time of your life that ever mattered, then at least have the decency to be true to your old self." Just how mistaken could one Silito be? Of course, I was being true to myself. Not a day went by that I didn't think about Chika. Obviously, I was being incredibly sincere. I just didn't think there was any use in trying to argue this with Silito.

"What would that Chaog girl think if she saw you now?"

"Who knows? It was pointless to even consider given that I was never going to see her again. And also, I don't care about how people see me anymore. Just jeez, forget it." With that, she moved away, picking up her coat and shoes and heading toward the front door. I picked up the coffee cup in front of me and took some into my mouth. The taste was weak.

"You know something?" Her voice crashed down on my head, making me wish she would just leave. Was she going to give some canned parting remark? Well, this was the last time. I supposed I could at least hear her out. "You."

"Yeah."

"By pinning all your own wretchedness on that girl, all you're doing is sullying her." This time, she actually seemed to leave the living room. I didn't look up, but I could tell by her footsteps. I heard the front door open and then close. Before I realized it, I had tossed the coffee mug I was holding at the wall. I sat there silent, gazing at the shards of the cup and the dripping brown liquid.

My life without Saitto, that is sun, began without issue. It was nothing more than a return to how my life had been before, which should have been obvious at this point. As far as my life was concerned, Suno Sanay was just another silto to me. certainly no one of any real importance. She was just one of the many people who had passed by me in my days on this earth. That was all I should have been to Silito as well. There was no reason for her to retain even the foggiest memories of me. There is a limit to how many things we need to retain in our brains across our lifespans. That fact was glaringly obvious or should have been. So why I felt uneasy? It had stuck with me, her final words that day. Sullying, she said. Who was sullying who?

"Morning."

"Oh, good morning, Suzuki. I sent you an email with the thing you asked for it. You should double check it."

"Whoa, that was fast. Thank you." She had said that I was sullying those...