“Not worth going into? Really? When you talk about your past, you sound so casual about it. It always worries me.”
“I don’t know what to tell you. I get that, for some people, it would be a serious trauma. Even I know that much.”
“They say people who’ve been abused dissociate from themselves. Did you know that?”
“What was it called again? The one Kozakura was talking about, where your personality splits? Dissociative fugue, or something like that.”
“I hear it happens to some people. I don’t know how it’s okay to get into this, and I’m really scared right now, but...” Toriko said cautiously, gauging my reaction before she continued. “Sorawo, you may have been through much worse than you think... If you’ve forgotten, then that’s okay, but I wouldn’t want to remind you of it.”
“Hrmm... I think it’s fine? I think I remember the things I’ve experienced, and they just don’t bother me, that’s all.”
Toriko’s expression didn’t brighten up. I smiled, hoping to reassure her. “I mean, just think about all the scary stuff we’ve been through together. None of that’s stirred up any forgotten memories. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Well, what about with the Red Person?”
When she said that, I was at a loss for words.
“You really seemed to be suffering that time.”
“That’s because my memories...my cognition had been messed with.”
“It’s the same thing. It could happen again, couldn’t it? There might be some bombshell lying in your past that I don’t know about. Even if you think it’s a perfectly normal memory, it might not be... I could set it off without knowing anything, and hurt you. That scares me.”
“And that’s why you were reading these sorts of books?”
“I thought they might be a good reference. Sorry, for doing it without asking... It feels like I was prying.”
“Nah, it’s nothing to apologize for. I was shocked when the stuff with the Red Person happened, and thought I was going to go crazy, but that’s different.”
“How’s it different?”
It was an obvious question, but a hard one to answer.
The fear and pain I felt then came from the other me that could have existed, from being forced to confront the possibility of another me whose mother was still alive and who had a happy family. The life that I wished I could have had, but things didn’t work out that way. It was a possibility that was completely incompatible with the way I lived now.
Looking back on it with a clear head, I’m mystified as to why I found it so painful, but at the time, I was assaulted by a fear that threatened to undermine the identity I’d so desperately assembled for myself.
But I’m fine now. Because I have Toriko. Because I can definitely believe life is better with her.
I couldn’t come up with the words to convey those sorts of personal feelings on the spur of the moment, so instead I said, “Because...you were there for me.”
“Me?”
“Yeah.”
“Did I do some—Ah!” Toriko covered her mouth as if she’d realized something.
No, you’re getting it wrong! It’s not because you kissed me!
Or was it? Did her kiss make me okay again?
As I tried to recall, it started to feel like that was the way things had gone, so I was left unable to say anything, and just awkwardly closed my mouth.
The idea that a puke-flavored kiss restored my sanity was the absolute worst. At the same time, I felt like I should apologize to Toriko since she’d had to taste my vomit.
I was the one who’d made her think that, so there was nowhere to direct these feelings I was having.
I stopped thinking. I hung my head, and took a sip from my mug.
“You didn’t mind being kissed, did you, Sorawo?”
I almost spewed coffee when she asked me that straight-out. “I... I didn’t mind it. Not really.”
Flavor aside. But I hadn’t been in any position to think about whether I minded or not at the time.
“It happened again after that too. Around twice.”
“Yes... It did.”
“I initiated those times too. You didn’t mind those either?”
“Not really...”
I’d have liked to wriggle my way out of saying so, but I couldn’t lie here. She’d figure it out anyway.
I had been expecting a real smug look from her in response, but instead she hung her head, her hair drooping down to touch the table.
“Wh-What?”
“Thank goodness...” Her voice was full of relief.
“You were that worried?”
“Of course I was. Silly.”
“Huh?”
“I mean, come on, Sorawo. You never kiss me.”
“Huh? Er, that’s not...”
As if I could!
As I got indignant at this unjustified accusation, Toriko shot me a resentful glare.
“I don’t know what’s up with you, Sorawo. I know you definitely love me, and you’re willing to trust me, but if I try to get too close, after a certain point, you take this attitude like you’re not into it.”
“Huh? Wait. Hold on.”
“I know that I’m terrible at gauging emotional distance, but watching you, even someone like me couldn’t help but notice. You’re always staring at my face, and I even catch you ogling me sometimes.”
“Huh?! Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second.”
“You’re gonna tell me I’m wrong?”
“You’re wrong. That was never my intention.”
“You just don’t realize it yourself, I’ll bet.”
“Don’t try to force something I’m not aware of onto me.”
“Sorawo, there aren’t many things about you that you actually display self-awareness of.”
“Wow, insulting much?!”
Toriko sighed. “So that’s what made me think, ‘Maybe Sorawo’s got a lot of hang-ups about sexual stuff.’ Although, if that’s true, the way you’ve been looking at me is pretty weird—”
“I have not been looking at you that way!”
“—but I’m sure there are girls like that out there, and I was thinking it’d be nice to close the distance between us a little at a time. But the more I learn about you, the more worried I get. I worry there’s something awful in your past, and that that’s where those hang-ups are coming from.”
“Oh...” I looked over the titles of the books piled on the table again. “Hence the books...?”
Toriko nodded. “I thought I’d study up. I may have just been spinning my wheels and going nowhere—but I wanted to know more about you.”
The awkward smile on Toriko’s face defanged me, and I was unable to do more than stare back at her. Yes, she had been spinning her wheels and going nowhere. I wasn’t as much of a prisoner of my past as Toriko feared. Not as far as I was aware of, at least.
But that wasn’t the problem. I hadn’t been thinking about Toriko the way she’d been thinking about me.
When I first saw the books on the table, I didn’t think anything of them. They were all addressing sexual violence, the victims of crime, domestic violence, and other serious subjects, but what was really going on didn’t click for me, so I never thought about it any deeper than that.
For instance, I could have thought, Maybe Toriko is having some kind of problem that’s addressed by these sorts of books?
The fact was that Toriko had apparently been brought up in a loving environment, and I’d never heard anything about her experiencing violence. But still.
Toriko had lost her parents. If I recall, Kozakura said it was in a plane crash.
That being the case, I could have taken an interest in the psychology of those who have lost people close to them in an accident or disaster, and the issues involved in interacting with someone who’s been through that experience. If I wanted to learn about Toriko, that is.
Toriko said her parents were Mama and Mom. So I could have, for instance, taken an interest in lesbian marriage in Canada. I could have wondered what it was like to be raised by two women.
If I wanted to learn more about Toriko, that is.
Even if she ended up just spinning her wheels, Toriko had been trying to learn something about me.
I just wasn’t interested. I hadn’t even spun my wheels.
“Sorawo?”
Looking concerned, Toriko leaned in to peer closer at me as I fell silent.
Yeah, I sure am bad at dealing with people.
Even now that I’d been made aware of my lack of interest in others, I didn’t feel any inclination to change. To be more specific, I wasn’t interested in their pasts. The only Toriko I could care about was the one in front of me right now.
Maybe that should have been obvious. I’d become almost a completely different person since meeting her. When I said our anniversary on May 14th was like another birthday for me, I meant that literally. The world before I was born is none of my concern. I don’t even want to know what Toriko’s relationship with Satsuki Uruma was like.
But Toriko had tried to learn about the person I was before we met.
“Toriko...you’re such a good girl.”
“Huh?”
“Thanks.”
“For what?!” The blank look she gave me was hilarious.
And oh so endearing.
I love this girl.
The thought came to me naturally. It took a moment for it to register, and then I was really, really surprised.
What did I just think?
The emotion that I’d never verbalized had, at some point, taken on a concrete form inside of me.
Toriko gave me a slightly sheepish smile. “So, that answer. Can I have it now? How do you feel about me, Sorawo...?”