“Sometimes I get teased when people find out Mom drew pervy stuff,” Toriko said, her voice muffled as she buried her face in my shoulder. It tickled when she talked like that, and she had a history of biting that was making it hard to relax, but I bore with her and listened.
“They’d say stupid stuff like, ‘Your mom drawing that kind of stuff went and turned you into a woman-lover too’... That seriously pissed me off. It’s got nothing to do with it.”
“R-Right.”
“I know you’re not the type to say that kind of thing, Sorawo, but of course I was still scared. Sorry I couldn’t tell you for all this time.”
“N-Nah... It’s no biggie. Doesn’t matter.”
To be perfectly honest, the idea did cross my mind. Just a little.
The half-teasing words “You sure you don’t want to do me because you’ve been influenced by this sort of manga?” had even made it to the drafts pile inside my brain. But the mood didn’t feel right for saying it, and I worried I was going to step in something, so I refrained.
Thank goodness I never said it. Even if I meant to lighten the mood, or was trying to get a laugh, it was best if I never said anything sarcastic. Because my sense of humor was devastatingly bad. I’d never been more grateful to Kozakura for driving that point home.
I stroked Toriko’s back as I deleted that particular draft from my brain. She must’ve gone through all sorts of unpleasant experiences that I know nothing about.
I didn’t think she was lying when she said she was proud of Mom’s work, but I couldn’t imagine she’d never struggled with it. What she’d said to me had come after a lot of thought and time spent sorting out her feelings. Overcoming her parents’ deaths, her love of women, and so much more...
“Do you want to see Mama’s room too?” Toriko asked quietly, seeming to have settled down as I stroked her. I nodded, seeing no reason to refuse. Toriko let go of me, and opened another door on the wall next to us.
The room next to the otaku room was comparatively plain. It had a small bookcase, a desk, and a large bed. That’s it. It was like a hotel room. There were a number of pictures hanging on the wall at the head of the bed, and a little cross. Come to think of it, I remember Toriko mentioning that Mama was a Christian.
“There’s not much here, huh?” I commented.
“Mama generally didn’t live here. This was just a space set up so she could stay over whenever she happened to drop by and visit Japan. So it was usually Mom’s bedroom.”
“Hmm.”
I guess that makes this their shared bedroom, then, huh? It all feels a bit too raw, seeing someone else’s parents’ bedroom.
I looked around despite feeling a little awkward to be in here. The pictures on the wall included Toriko as a child. She was in primary or middle school. Despite being a kid, she was slender and it was hard to estimate her age from her height. The braces stood out on the toothy grin on her face, but she was still just as adorable as any kid her age. She wore a polo shirt with vibrant colors, making her look like a tennis player or something. But instead of a racket, she was carrying a big gun.
“What’s that a photo of? You’re carrying a gun in it.”
“Oh, this? It’s from a shooting competition. Ever heard of a 3-gun match?”
“Never.”
“You use a rifle, shotgun, and handgun to shoot targets as you move along the course and compete for the best time. This is from when I came in second at the Junior tournament.”
“Whoa, that’s awesome.”
“When Mama first started teaching me, I couldn’t land a single shot, but with practice I was able to make second place... I was really happy.”
“Hmm. I wish I could’ve seen you back then.”
“I’ve still got the video. Wanna see?”
“Huh, for real? I do.”
“Sure thing. Let’s watch it together later,” Toriko said gleefully, sitting down on the bed. There was no cloud of dust, so I could see she kept it clean.
“So that’s where you polished your skills with firearms.”
“Did I never mention it?”
“Not that I can remember.”
“I wonder why I didn’t. There wasn’t really anything to hide about it.”
“Maybe I just never showed interest.”
“That’s it. You’ve got that side to you, Sorawo!”
“Seems pretty likely you may have mentioned it at an after-party, and then we drank so much that I forgot about it too.”
“That’s such a thing with you, Sorawo. Sometimes I think you’re just not interested in me.”
She was hitting on a sore spot for me. “Erm... Well...”
“Don’t just stand there. Have a seat.”
“Uh, okay.”
Maybe she realized I was about to start making excuses, because she gestured to me with a sober look in her eyes, and I sat down next to her like she wanted.
“Listen, it’s not that I’m not interested in you. Obviously. I think you understand that, though.”
“I dunno. You’re hard to understand, Sorawo.”
Didn’t you say that I was easy to understand, and that was cute, just a little while ago?
“How should I put this...? So long as you’re there with me, Toriko, I’m already satisfied with that, you know?”
“Hey, hearing that doesn’t make me very happy.”
“Yeah... I just figured that out recently.”
“Hmm?”
“I’ve been realizing I don’t know anything about you. I just thought I did. For this whole year.”
“How recently is ‘recently’?” she asked.
“This week, I guess?”
Toriko’s eyes widened when I told her. “That is recent.”
“I told you it was.”
“No way... I’ve been telling you I love you, and you’ve been like that the whole time? Don’t you feel bad? For me.”
“Yeah, I do feel bad,” I acknowledged and she jabbed me in the upper arm. “Sorry, okay.”
“I’m not going to let this slide.”
“Well, if we’re getting into details, it was earlier... You know, when I went to your university, and I saw through your eyes in the mirror...”
“You didn’t notice my feelings until you saw through my eyes, huh?”
“I-I had some idea.”
“Augh, just shut up.”
This time, she jabbed me in the shoulder...or so I thought, until my body fell over on the bed. Toriko was peering over me from the side. Then she changed position to get on top of me.
Huh...? Did she just push me down?
“Oh, jeez. What do I have to do to make you understand?”
“Huh?”
“Hey, Sorawo—”
“Wai—”
This time, she locked lips with me without consent.
Yikes. She’s serious. She’s holding me down like she means it.
As I panicked, I had to ask myself if this was okay. Was I all right with us just getting on with it here?
Or was I not?
Did I hate this? Should I refuse her?
I don’t hate it.
The thought suddenly popped into my head, shocking me.
Oh, so I don’t hate this.
Seriously?
But I’m still not that aroused.
Is that okay?
Won’t I disappoint Toriko?
As I was thinking how to change gears and accept Toriko despite my massive hesitation, the cross on the wall caught my eye.
No, this isn’t it.
I don’t like this.
“T-Toriko! Wait! Stay, girl!”
“Aww... Why?”
As I pushed her off of me, Toriko looked at me with eyes that had little room left for restraint. She had the same face as when she kissed me in the love hotel on the Otherside. A shudder ran down my spine, at her intensity more than her desire. I desperately shook my head.
“Not here!”
“Why not?”
“You shouldn’t have to ask! This is your parents’ bedroom, isn’t it?!”
Toriko blinked as if I’d suddenly slapped her, then looked around the room.
I continued, saying, “Don’t you just hate the idea of doing it in your parents room?! It’s the absolute worst!”
Toriko was silent for several seconds. She looked down at me again. “Where would you be okay with?”
“U-Uh, I don’t know... Oh, your room! Why don’t we go there? You still haven’t let me see it yet, right?” I blurted out on the spur of the moment.
“Does this girl understand what she’s saying?”
I could practically read Toriko’s mind as she stared at me. Because I was thinking essentially the same thing:
“What do I think I’m saying?!”
I don’t want to do it here, so take me to your room... I’d basically just given her the okay, hadn’t I?!
It was too late to take it back. Those words were irreversible.
“Okay. Fine by me.” Toriko slowly sat up, taking me by the hand. “Let’s go, then.”
“Y-Yeah...” I had to nod.
As she opened the door to the hall, and headed to her own room, Toriko never let go of my hand.