Richard frowned, a light crease forming between his eyebrows. “Please. You first.”
“Okay. So the whole thing about getting attached—I just meant it as a figure of speech.”
“Yes, I am aware.”
“I mean it. Really.”
“I understand, which is why I said I am aware.”
“All it means is that I can’t imagine liking anyone else the same way I like you.”
Silence.
Richard didn’t look away. His eyes were glued to me as a slightly baffled smile worked its way onto his face. Maybe it was my internal biases speaking, but I thought it looked like a smile of relief. If it was relief, then good.
“Yes, as I have just established, I have been aware of that fact for quite some time now.”
Good.
I thanked him by way of nodding and gestured for him to share whatever he had wanted to say. It was his turn now. However, he said it didn’t matter anymore and refused to talk. I thought he had wanted to talk to me. What had I done to deserve this kind of treatment? I pouted pointedly, which made Richard smile in a so-be-it manner.
“You and I should have a discussion about your career path.”
“Like, my choice between becoming a civil servant or a jeweler?”
“Correct.”
In Japan, the civil service examinations had an unofficial age limit. This was beginning to relax over time, but no one over the age of thirty landed the kind of solid positions I had been hoping for. I had turned twenty-three earlier this year. I wasn’t planning on taking next year’s exam, meaning my next shot would be when I was twenty-five or older.
Did I really want to work in the civil service in Japan?
Richard, I thought, was asking me to give at least a partial answer to that question right here and now. Because it affected Richard’s future plans. Of the two, I was leaning more toward joining the jewelry industry. However, I wanted to keep studying, and I was about to say that just when Richard interrupted.
“Personally speaking, I have nothing but the highest respect for whatever decision you make. With that said…” Richard paused. “I have one request for you.”
What could it have been? Richard had never pressured me like this before. I said he could ask whatever he wanted, but I was kind of scared. Was he going to ask me to leave him? That was the one thing I was really scared of.
Richard’s blue eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled. “Were I to lose your company entirely, I would miss you something terrible. Therefore, if you would be so kind, I would love for you to make time for me in your schedule once or twice a month regardless of which path to success you pursue.”
I fell silent, then sighed before bursting out laughing. That got a chuckle out of Richard, too. “I promise you’ll never have to worry about that, so long as I live.”
“Is that so?”
“Without you, I would fall apart. As surely as I breathe oxygen or drink water, I promise I’ll always come to keep you company.”
“Oh, no. I would perform the necessary traveling.”
“Maybe. That might be our only option if I go into civil service, but if I become a jeweler, I’m sure we can work it out between our respective schedules.”
“Indeed, I suppose we could. But do civil servants not take time off as well?”
“I guess so. I could always go on a trip, then.”
“Excellent. I await news of souvenirs eagerly.”
“Yeah, me too.”
Richard returned my joke with a smile. I felt happy, but also a little sad. I wondered why. Was it the thought of my apprenticeship in Sri Lanka ending? No, that wasn’t it. I had spent most of this period of my life globe-trotting, so I was only about as attached to this house in Kandy as Kasaba University or my old apartment in Takadanobaba. These were all important places to me, but the importance was less centered on me so much as the people and things around me.
The reason I felt that slight sadness—well, it was a no-brainer, really. Now that I reflected on it, Richard had said something like this earlier today, too. Huh.
He pursed his lips, as if he didn’t agree with the light of recognition dawning on my face. Whenever he expressed his grumpiness like that, I knew he wasn’t truly grumpy at all.
“Whatever are you thinking of now?”
“It’s just…”
The thing we talked about earlier today. The thing about objects having a rightful place. If things always left to go back to their rightful places…if that was true…
“Richard, I have two—no, make that one favor I’d like to ask of you.”
“Whatever might that be?”
I cut myself off before I could ask for both. This wasn’t the right time to bring it up. I needed a little more—how to put it—experience before I broached that topic. But the other favor could be asked right now. Yes, it had to be now or never.
“…Just know, it’s only if you want to.”
“By all means.”
“Richard, would you be my… Um, my… Um. My.”
“Your?”
“Th-th-the,” I stuttered, for all the good that did. It might as well have been a life preserver with a hole in it. Calm down, Seigi. Take that long shot. Take that running leap. The ground below is soft enough. I think.
Eventually, my mouth remembered how to work correctly. “Richard, would you be the object of my affection?”
Silence fell in that space bordered by the mosquito netting.
Richard looked shocked. His expression lacked the coldness that usually accompanied his “Oh? Is that so?” dismissals. There was warmth in that face he wore, like he was looking at a child. Oh no, not again. I jumped right to my conclusion without explaining my full thought process.
“Here me out. By the object of my affection, I mean—”
“What it sounds like, I’m sure.”
“Well, yes. But it’s not what you think.”
“What isn’t?”
“Um, I… If I had to explain what an object of affection is…”
Richard shut down my babbling with a crisp “I see.” There was a dispassionate chill to his voice, but I didn’t take that as a bad sign. Honestly, not at all.
“An object of one’s affection. What rich nuances this phrase contains. It is a simple descriptor, yet it boasts such myriad possible meanings.”
“Y-yes.”
“To check, do you mean that I am someone you care about deeply?”
“…Yes, I guess so.”
“Someone that you wish to cherish.”
“That’s correct.”
“A person with whom you wish to take trips, eat meals, or pet the dog.”
“Yes, exactly!”
“A person for whom you would feel sadness were they come to harm or vanish without forewarning.”
“…Yes. Exactly.”
I knew Richard might not agree to it, but I hoped he would. I said, “So please, don’t do that to me. Because you know I’d never do it to you.”
Richard laughed. What an open laugh it was. “You’re asking for everything to stay the same. No?”
“What?”
“How exactly would it be different from the relationship we’ve had thus far?”
Now that he mentioned it, I really couldn’t think of anything. Our relationship went by a lot of names. Boss and employee. Junior and senior colleagues. Friends. Each one added a new layer to the relationship. So, Richard was asking, where was the harm in adding one more?
It almost sounded like he was saying, “You’re only asking me this now?”