MY memory was behaving strangely. I often couldn’t remember events from the past few months, a hazy cloud obscuring my recollection. Tsukushi and I started to hang out more during my unemployment, and when I told her about my forgetfulness, she introduced me to a doctor of psychosomatic medicine.
“You were under too much stress at your previous job,” the doctor said. “You’re probably still recovering from the fatigue.”
“Don’t overthink it,” Tsukushi encouraged me. “Just take it easy.”
Living at home allowed me to gradually improve my mental and physical health. After a while, however, I decided to begin working again.
“You already found a new job?” Tsukushi sounded surprised on the phone. “At an employment agency, no less?”
“Yep,” I replied. “I’m still being paid an hourly wage during my trial period. But for some reason, I wanted a position that would let me interact with all kinds of people.”
“…You’ve always done office work up till now, right? Why throw yourself into a new profession? What if the stress catches up to you again?”
“I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”
Despite my laughter, Tsukushi remained concerned.
🍁🍁🍁
✦ ✦ ✦
I was tidying my room after another workday. To my surprise, I spotted a Jellysh CD case standing prominently on my shelf. He’d become quite popular recently. Women adored him, of course, and his stunning voice and smooth dance moves had earned him plenty of male fans as well.
“Wait,” I muttered. “When did I get so into Jellysh?”
Yes, I often listened to Jellysh to fire myself up during my commute to work. Yet I mostly streamed music, so the discovery raised questions in my mind. These days, only diehard fans buy CDs to support their favorite artists. I didn’t remember being that into Jellysh. When I picked up the CD case and flipped it over, I found a sticky note with a date written on it.
“I borrowed this from someone, didn’t I?” I tried to recall the lender, and my memories were hazy. “Is it Tsukushi’s, by chance?” Just to be sure, I took a picture of the case and sent it to her. She responded immediately.
“Oh, right, I did borrow it from her,” I said to myself. “Just like I thought.”
I collapsed into bed, relief washing over me. “I’m exhausted…” I grumbled. I ducked my hand beneath the blankets and fumbled around for something fluffy.
“Hold on,” I said with a jolt. “What was I just looking for?”
Why had I been so certain that something was in bed with me? I barreled out the door, shivering with fright, and into the living room. My parents, ever the happy couple, were watching TV together. Their eyes widened at my sudden intrusion.
“What’s wrong?” asked Dad.
I took a deep breath to calm myself. “Do we, um, have a pet here?”
“A pet?”
“Yeah. Like a hamster or a cat.”
“Of course not,” Mom answered on my puzzled father’s behalf, shrugging and eyeing me suspiciously. “We would never adopt an animal. You’ve always liked them, but you insisted that you didn’t want a pet because Tsukushi wouldn’t approve.”
“Oh, right…” I mumbled. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
That was true. Even when we were children, Tsukushi always made a disapproving face when I tried to pet animals. As a result, I had never touched my friends’ dogs or other creatures at petting zoos.
Wait. In that case, why did I pick up a cat this afternoon without the slightest hesitation?
“Anyway, why don’t you watch TV with us if you want to look at animals?” My father grinned and pointed at the screen. “They’re showing a year in the life of an Ezo red fox.”
The fox, its winter coat impossibly fluffy, raced around a pure-white field of snow.
“A fox…” I murmured.
A headache began to pound behind my eyes. I stumbled back to my room and collapsed into bed once more, not wanting to worry my parents. My head feels like it’s about to split open. Why does it hurt so much?
Fragmented memories of the feel and color of a fox’s tail flashed through my mind. Each image caused another throb of pain.
A bushy tail peeking out of the center vent of a suit.
Furry ears drooping in response to spicy curry.
Sparkling fur, lustrous beneath the dazzling illumination of Nakasu at night.
That’s right. It was so cute how his tail wagged when he ate udon. And how his ears flattened when he couldn’t handle how spicy the curry was.
“Hold on,” I mumbled. “Fox ears? A tail?”
Where were these memories coming from? “Is this because of stress too?” I shuddered, horrified. I grabbed the headache medicine on my bedside table and swallowed one of the pills.
An instant later, thunder loud enough to shake the house boomed outside, pulsing in sync with my headache. I rose and opened the curtain. A flash of lightning carved through the darkness, illuminating the downpour.
“I should go to sleep.”
As the medicine started to take effect, I curled up beneath the blankets. The pills I’d received from Tsukushi’s doctor certainly worked.
All I want is to get used to my new job, put this weird headspace behind me, and start living a normal life.
🍁🍁🍁