Just to return to the flavorless monotony of our boring day-to-day existence?
Once time started moving, I’d have to go back to school again. Talk to people again. Put up with uncomfortable situations again. Be a nervous wreck again, masquerade as a functional member of society again. I’d have to think about my future prospects and my career path whether I wanted to or not. I’d have to either learn to overcome my condition or find some weird alternate lifestyle that didn’t involve being touched by other people.
I had to get stronger, or I couldn’t go on living. Or rather: If I wanted to go on living, then I would need to be stronger. No amount of motivational posters or empty reassurances were ever going to change that simple fact. Not in a million years.
In which case, I already knew what my preference was. And yet…
“Hey. Mugino.”
I lifted my head from where I’d unintentionally let it hang. When I looked over at Akira, she was pointing a finger straight at my brow.
“You’ve got some mad forehead wrinkles goin’ on right now.”
“Oh, yeah…” I said, trying to massage them away. “Sorry, guess I got kinda lost in thought.”
“Yeah, was about to say… You were lookin’ pretty pensive for a minute there. What’s up?”
Akira scooted a bit closer and inclined her head, causing her golden locks to dangle loosely in the still autumn air. The black patch on the top of her head had expanded quite a bit since our journey began as her roots grew out. I was fondly reminded of the way she’d grimaced at the sight of it upon catching a random glimpse of herself in the mirror the other day, before grumpily insisting for the umpteenth time that she’d dye it again soon.
“You know,” I said, “I’ve been having a really great time with you, Iguma-san.”
Akira blinked at me in wide-eyed, bashful bewilderment. “Y-yeah? C-cool, glad to hear it.”
“But as much as I’m enjoying myself right now,” I continued, “I can’t help but feel a little bit anxious when I think about the long term. Just all of the inevitable stuff that’ll happen when time starts moving forward again, you know… Having to go back to my boring everyday life again, and probably falling out of touch with you eventually, and all the fun memories we made together starting to feel like something out of a fever dream or another lifetime… Assuming they don’t get wiped away entirely, that is. Whenever I start thinking about stuff like that, it just… It just hurts, yeah.”
“Mugino…”
She said my name so gently and softly, as if handling it with the utmost care, that I could feel the genuine concern in her voice—or so I thought, at least.
“You’re being emo again!” she flatly declared.
“Whaaa…?”
“Don’t you ‘whaaa’ me. See, this is exactly what I’ve been telling you—you’re too sensitive. You’ve gotta stop getting so caught up on each and every little thing.”
Akira hopped up from the bench and stood just a few feet in front of my knees, then placed her hands on her hips and looked down at me. I felt like I was in for a lecture.
“You think too much, my friend. So from now on, no more thinking allowed.”
“H-how the hell am I supposed to do that?”
“Not my problem. Oh, and no more angsty little monologues either!”
“Oh, come on. You’ve gotta leave me with something here.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at this ridiculous exchange. Seeing this, Akira softened up her expression too, and she lowered one hand from her waist to her side.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” she said. “It’s not like I don’t think about this stuff too sometimes—about the future and all that jazz. But all it ever does is make me feel more hopeless about things than I already am. And once you start getting all up in your head about that sorta thing, there’s just no stopping it. Like, in my case, I dunno how the hell I’m gonna work things out with my folks, or stop feeling so depressed about school, or figure out what I wanna do with my life after graduation… And even if I did manage to find the perfect solutions to all of my current problems, I know I’d probably just come up with a ton of new things to stress myself out about anyway.”
I listened closely and carefully to Akira’s words—her voice the only sound in the entire world.
“If you ask me, I think pretty much everyone’s got their own baggage they’re dealing with. But they still pull themselves outta bed every morning and try to carry that weight with them, ’cause they know the only way things’ll ever get any better is if they fake it till they make it. That’s what I’m gonna do. And I think you should too.”
“…So, what, you’re saying I should just turn my brain off completely and pretend like everything’s gonna be okay?”
“No, ya dink. All I’m saying is: Don’t let tomorrow stop you from living today.”
This was effectively the same sentiment, in my view—just rephrased to give it a more optimistic spin. And yet, there was something in the way she said it that seemed to cut right through the thorns of anxiety that had suffocated me for so long, coiling their vines tightly around my every limb. Now, at last, I was free. I knew this liberation was likely only temporary; fears such as these were like stubborn, cancerous weeds that rooted themselves deep in your mind and could never be fully exterminated. They were ready to flare up and eat away at you again when fed even the slightest validation. But just this once, I decided I would cross that bridge when I came to it.
“You’re really strong, Iguma-san,” I said.