[Due to a personal accident that occurred at ○○ station, both the up and down lines have suspended operation. We apologize for the inconvenience…]
On the platform of the station where we were heading to school after the mourning period, the announcement of the train suspension was made, and Soejima-kun and I looked at each other. Murmurs and voices of dissatisfaction spread through the crowded platform of commuters and students.
Everyone was overwhelmed with their own daily lives. They had become too accustomed to the term “personal accident,” and nobody paid attention to the death of a stranger.
From the public’s point of view, Soejima-kun’s grandfather’s death might also be seen as insignificant, even though it had a significant impact on Soejima-kun.
Soejima-kun was set to transfer schools in the spring. As he had wished, he was allowed to live alone at his grandfather’s house until the end of the second grade.
In a few months, Soejima-kun would be leading a completely different life from now.
Amid the noise of the crowded platform, he muttered to me, who was lost in thought, “We got up early, didn’t we?”
That day, we had left home earlier than usual. It was to stop by his grandfather’s grave before going to school.
On the way to the cemetery, Soejima-kun said, “Grandpa would say I hardly ever come.” While tending the grave, I noticed that the tombstone now had the name and death date of his grandfather, which had not been there at the time of the funeral. “He would probably say the characters are too small.”
Memories still brought sadness. Standing next to Soejima-kun as he put his hands together at the grave, I also put my hands together and made a wish in my heart.
May we tie the fates successfully, may Soejima-kun find happiness; please lend us your strength.
Sitting on the snow-covered veranda, I said, “I want to live.”
“I can’t imagine it going well…” Soejima-kun responded, picking up the children’s book placed on the floor. “…but is that still okay?”
He had chosen to confront the matter of telling Kusunoki-san about his feelings —something he had been resisting all along. It must have been his grandfather who prompted Soejima-kun to do this.
The first period had already started by the time we arrived at school.
Presumably not wanting to attract attention by entering the classroom during class, especially on the first day after his mourning period, Soejima-kun had decided to skip the first hour and head to the rooftop. I followed him.
Once he confirmed that there was no one on the roof, Soejima-kun, with a terribly serious expression, talked to me. “So… how should I go about confessing?”
“What!?”
I was taken aback by his words, which did not align with his serious expression.
“Well… I think you should just express your feelings honestly…”
I can’t remember it, but no matter how I think about it, I can’t imagine I have any romantic experience that would qualify me to give advice to someone. Hearing me say it without much confidence, Soejima-kun let out a deep sigh, resting his forehead on the wire mesh of the rooftop.
Panicking, I tried to think with my inexperienced mind. “When you dated Kusunoki-san before…”
“That time, it was Kusunoki who…”
“What did Kusunoki-san say then?”
“Huh!?”
“If you express it in the same way…”
When I said that, Soejima-kun seemed to freeze for a moment as if recalling that time, then he averted his eyes as if embarrassed.
“Absolutely impossible.”
Despite his assertive declaration, Soejima-kun hung his head. It piqued my curiosity to see Soejima-kun, who usually had a cool, nonchalant air about him, looking so flustered. What kind of confession had Kusunoki-san made, I wondered?
Searching for words to comfort the now-silent Soejima-kun, I said, “You don’t need to think so hard about it…”
“Once before, I hurt Kusunoki… and now your life is on the line,” he said.
I stared at Soejima-kun, seriously and deeply troubled. I felt a warmth in my chest at the sight of him struggling so hard even after he said he couldn’t imagine it going well.
“I’ll also think about a better way!” I exclaimed, then was surprised by the loudness of my own voice. Soejima-kun looked up, startled by my outburst.
“I might not be much help, but…” I mumbled into my hand, which covered my mouth. Soejima-kun watched me.
“Would you mind… letting me practice a confession?” he asked.
Caught off guard, I responded with a surprised, “Huh?” and Soejima-kun’s eyes darted nervously.
“I want to know if it’s right or if there’s anything I need to improve…” he said. Seeing Soejima-kun blush for the first time was somehow adorable. I covered my mouth with my hand to suppress a smile and gave a fake cough.
“If you’re okay with me… please go ahead,” I replied in a muffled voice.
Soejima-kun turned to face me, scratching his head and looking down as he addressed me. “You might think it’s too late, but even after we broke up, I was still… concerned about you…” he mumbled, lifting his gaze. His eyes, peeking from beneath his bangs, locked onto me.
I felt a flutter in my chest at his pleading expression.
“Um…” He paused, swallowing his breath. The tension radiating from Soejima-kun accelerated the pounding of my heart.
“Ah, no, it’s impossible! I can’t!” he suddenly exclaimed.
Soejima-kun’s ears turned bright red, and he ruffled the back of his hair as if to disguise his embarrassment. Even though his gaze had strayed, the loud pounding of my heart persisted.
“I don’t think I can say it well,” he admitted, falling silent in his gloominess. Feeling the need to say something, I racked my brain for a solution.
“How about… a letter!” My suggestion seemed to stun Soejima-kun as he looked up at me. “If speaking it out loud is too difficult…”
“Like… in the Showa era?” Soejima-kun frowned at my suggestion. It was a complete shot in the dark. In this day and age, a letter…
“Right, it’s silly.” I conceded, feeling embarrassed.
On the way home from school, we stopped by a bookstore. Soejima-kun held up a sheet of blue letter paper in the stationery section, showing it to me as if to ask, “How about this?”
I nodded in agreement.
By the time we arrived at the nearest station to his home, the stars had begun to twinkle. As we moved from the main road toward the residential area, the crowd thinned out. When the salaryman walking ahead of us turned a corner, and we were the only ones left walking down the residential alley, Soejima-kun finally spoke. “I’ll write the letter and give it in person to Kusunoki tomorrow,” he said. I never thought he would actually confess through a letter.
“What… What will you write?” I wondered if my idea really was good enough.
Soejima-kun gave a faint, bashful smile and replied, “Like I’d tell you.” He then gazed at me seriously.
“Wh-What is it?” I asked, flustered.
Soejima-kun then voiced his concern. “I wonder… If things go well between Kusunoki and me, will you disappear?”
His question made me realize something I hadn’t considered before. I had been solely focused on bridging the gap between Soejima-kun and Kusunoki-san, but what would happen to me, the half-spirit, if I succeeded in tying their fates together?
Would my current body vanish the moment their fates were connected, returning to my original body somewhere else? If that were the case, the everyday life I had been sharing with Soejima-kun and Fuyu would come to an end.
“I won’t be able to hear your hesitant way of speaking anymore, Yuu,” Soejima-kun remarked.
A wave of loneliness welled up within me, but I quickly dismissed it.
Soejima-kun would get to date the person he liked, and I would be brought back to life. It was something to be happy about, not sad…
“S-Sorry. I know it’s hard to understand me. I think… I should try to speak more clearly…” My voice, directed away from Soejima-kun, was as faint as always. Every time I tried to say something, I would hesitate. I would worry whether it was okay to say this or not, and sometimes, I grew tired of my suppressed voice. I could never speak well.
“It’s fine, don’t change. I’ll just listen more closely,” Soejima-kun replied in his usual aloof tone, making it feel as though the air had stopped for a moment.
His words were unexpected. I never thought he would say something like that.
When I met his gaze again, Soejima-kun said, “I’m the one who should be sorry. I wasn’t able to find out who you truly are.” A complicated expression crossed his face.
“I wonder if it will go well…” His voice was devoid of energy.
Without thinking, I found myself replying. “It will!” My words, unusually strong, surprised Soejima-kun.
“It will definitely go well,” I murmured again, more to reassure myself. Soejima-kun let out a small smile.
“When you come back to life, tell me, okay? What your real name is, how you lived…”
“Okay.” I nodded, feeling a flicker of unease. When all my memories returned, would I be able to meet Soejima-kun again?
The house of the old man could be seen at the end of the road, lit by the city lights. As I thought about how close we were to home, I also found myself wishing that we could continue walking like this for just a bit longer.
I knew there wouldn’t be many more opportunities to walk home with Soejima-kun like this.
As we opened the front door of the house, I could hear the sound of Fuyu’s footsteps. When Soejima-kun turned on the lights, the hallway brightened instantly, and I could see Fuyu coming toward us.
As he took off his shoes, Soejima-kun gave Fuyu a gentle look.
“We’re home, Fuyu,” I called out to the black cat as I stepped into the hallway. Usually, when I called her name, Fuyu would look at me, but this day was different.
Fuyu went toward Soejima-kun.
She passed right through me.
Soejima-kun’s expression changed.
“Fuyu…?”
Fuyu didn’t respond to my voice, to my presence, ever again. From this day onward, Fuyu could no longer see me.