Fall became winter, and according to the calendar, it was already December. A lot happened during the time between spring and summer, and summer and fall. I felt like I hadn’t achieved anything, but I knew I’d grasped something important. If I knew anything for sure, it was that I had a goal. I wanted to finish my novel about Tooru and enter it in the writing contest his sister was judging so she could read it.
“When we tell others about our sadness and pain, the meaning behind those feelings changes,” Tooru’s sister had said before I went home the night we had dinner. “We’re able to gain a little distance. Always make sure you have someone you can talk to. Like…me, for example.”
“Really, you don’t mind? For someone like me to go to you…”
“Like I said earlier, I think of you as a younger sister. I’m sorry for not realizing how much pain you were in. From here on out, I’ll be here for you.”
After that, she started texting and calling me now and then, so it was easier for me to talk to her about things. Her warmth touched me. I wished she were my real sister. But I wondered how she would feel about that. Would she really want me as one?
No, I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t the kind of person she could feel proud of yet.
Until recently, I had assumed that I was living my own life. But it was possible that I hadn’t taken a single step forward since Tooru died. All I could think of was him. All I cared about was him. I’d even carelessly hurt the freshman who was interested in me.
That’s when it hit me. I, more than anyone, was a prisoner of his death. When I realized that, I felt like I was able to truly rest for the first time in ages.
Maybe my life was finally beginning. No—I was the one who had to start it. That was another reason I wanted to lose myself in working toward my goal. I wanted to test myself. But now that I’d set my goal, there was something I had to do. Apologize to Naruse. I’d treated him horribly. I’d tried to forget Tooru in the completely wrong way and ended up pulling him into my problems. I’d hurt him so easily, without a second thought for his feelings.
I hadn’t talked to him since we went to the aquarium. Since I felt so awkward, I’d avoided seeing him on campus since summer break ended. It was winter now, and I was still doing it.
“Naruse? You didn’t hear? He’s taking the semester off. I heard he ended the lease on his apartment, too.”
Our mutual friend, the guy in my year who’d gone to high school with him, told me that the week after I had dinner with Tooru’s sister. I’d asked him about Naruse because I thought it was odd that I hadn’t seen him around campus in so long.
“Taking the semester off…really?”
I hadn’t expected that. He didn’t know why he’d left, which worried me. Was it because of me? Had I hurt him that badly?
I thanked him and screwed up my courage to send Naruse a message.
I heard you’re taking time off school.
There was no “read” notification or a response. But that night, he wrote back.
Good to hear from you, Wataya. Thank you for your message. I’m…taking time off for some personal reasons.
I was relieved by his gentle reply and realized how nervous I’d been. I was prepared for him to hate me, but he didn’t seem to hold any ill will toward me. I wondered what his “personal reasons” were, but I didn’t want to pry, in case it had to do with his family. Still somewhat nervous, I tested the waters with a simple question.
Ah. Are you doing okay?
Yes, I’m fine. Things are tough, but I’m getting by.
What are you doing these days?
Working all the time.
He took off school to work? Something must have happened with his family after all. I started to worry that the end of our relationship had been the start to a string of bad luck. I was about to apologize and ask what had happened when he texted.
Uh, Wataya? I’m really happy that we’re talking again.
I stared at his message. Then another one came.
I’m so glad I met you.
But everything I did to you was horrible.
That’s not true. You were out of my league from the start.
Once again, I was painfully aware of how kind he was. Pure, humble, and unselfish…
I don’t have anything to offer.
All the same, he sent me this painfully sad message. I wanted to tell him it wasn’t true, but another text cut off my opportunity before I could finish typing.
How about you? How are you doing?
Me? Same as always. Going to class, helping my mom with work sometimes.
But there was something else, too. I decided to tell him.
Also, I’m writing a novel.
Really, a novel?
Yeah. I’m thinking of submitting it to a contest. Don’t tell anyone, okay?
There was a pause, like he was trying to decide how to respond.
I won’t. Thank you for telling me your secret.
I smiled at his conscientious response. I was about to reply when he texted again.
Oh, sorry. I have to get back to work.
I’d wanted to apologize. But now I realized that was simply because I wanted to make myself feel better. If I apologized at this late date, he would probably just worry about me. Maybe I was to live with how I’d treated him. I shouldn’t let myself off the hook so easily.
Sorry to take up your break time. Thanks, I texted.
Take care. It’s getting cold.
I will. You take care, too.
Thank you. Let’s talk again sometime.
That was the end of our exchange. As I stared at his last message, it hit me that six months ago, he’d been right next to me, but I’d pushed him away. Now I was alone again. Everyone walks alone. Not just me.
Christmas was approaching, but I ignored the festive mood in town and attended class. I continued to work on my novel so I could submit it to the contest.
There were two categories: short stories and novellas. Both were literary fiction and had relatively short page limits. I figured the first step was to finish a draft. Through trial and error, I managed to complete it by the end of the year. It wasn’t great, but I still felt slightly excited to have written my first work of fiction. When I reread it from the beginning, though, I realized I could never submit it as it was. I rewrote it from page one.
It was winter break, and I lost all sense of time, skipping lunch and even dinner, forgetting to sleep, just sitting all day at my computer writing my novel. Before I knew it, three days had passed, and I was done rewriting. It still wasn’t great, but I was able to use it as a framework for future revisions.
Concentrating so hard on something freed me temporarily from the past, from my sadness. Maybe because I was writing about Tooru from an objective perspective, sometimes I even forgot him.
Just like I was absorbed in finishing my novel, Maori was absorbed in studying for university entrance exams. She still called and texted sometimes, though, and I would take a break from writing to joke around and chat like usual.
Finally, at the end of February, the contest submission deadline arrived. For the first time, I entered a piece of fiction to a writing contest.