My life without Saitou—that is, Sunou Sanae—began without issue.
It was nothing more than a return to how my life had been before, which should have been obvious at this point. As far as my life was concerned, Sunou Sanae was just another Saitou to me—certainly no one of any real importance. She was just one of the many people who had passed by me in my days on this earth. That was all I should have been to Saitou as well. There was no reason for her to retain even the foggiest memories of me. There is a limit to how many things we need to retain in our brains across our life spans.
That fact was glaringly obvious. Or it should have been, so why?
I felt uneasy. It had stuck with me, her final words that day.
Sullying, she said.
Who was sullying who?
“Morning.”
“Oh, good morning, Suzuki-san!”
“I sent you an e-mail with the thing you asked for. You should double-check it.”
“Whoa, that was fast! Thank you!”
She had said that I was sullying those memories—that I was sullying Chika.
How ridiculous.
Chika and I were never going to see each other again. That was precisely why I had to keep treasuring those memories, so that I could never forget them. There’s no way you could corrupt someone who you would never see again. If anyone was sullying her, it was Saitou. She had sullied our feelings, mine and Chika’s. She had left those ridiculous accusations in my home. That foul stench continued to rankle.
“Suzuki, could I ask you to free up this afternoon?”
“Of course. I wasn’t especially busy anyway.”
“I’m going to have lunch with Kanta-san, so come with me. He seems to really like you.”
“If that’s enough reason for me to barge in, then certainly.”
I wondered if perhaps she was referring to the influence that Chika and I had on each other, but no. I hadn’t told her the details of our shared influence, and even now I still bore in mind the possibility that I might have some effect on her and lived my life trying not to make waves. I had tried to eliminate the negative factors in my life as much as possible, not breaking anything, not losing anything, not falling into despair. The idea that I could do anything to harm Chika like that was absurd.
Saitou had said that I was blaming my own wretchedness on Chika. Trying to call me wretched as a criticism was a mistake. If she’d really wanted to hurt me, she should have criticized some particular feature of mine. However, the word “wretched,” which I supposed was a dig at the joyless life I led, could have equally applied to so many other people in this world. She had failed to effectively disparage me.
“Hey, Suzuki-kun, brought you a souvenir.”
“Thank you very much. I never thought I’d see the day when you’d bring me a souvenir, Kudou-san.”
“Well, these were supposed to be a lovely treat from your senpai, but you can just give it back then.”
“Kidding, kidding. I’ll gladly accept your gift.”
Saying that I was blaming Chika was also way off the mark. I owed a debt to Chika for the life I had led so far. For allowing me to be enveloped in that wind. For granting me feelings that I would hold indelibly inside my chest until the day I died. Even if the rest of my days from here on out were hollow, those feelings alone would remain real. Saitou could never understand what that meant when you lived such a meaningless life. For all Chika did for me, I thanked her. I would never degrade her, much less blame the emptiness of my own life on her.
“Hello, this is Suzuki. Thank you for all your help. Yes, as I explained the other day, I believe that will be the case for the rest of the fiscal year. I see, yes, I believe we’ve met. In that case, I will confirm things with Ueda and get back to you by the end of the day. Will that be all right? Yes. Thank you very much. Have a good day.”
Every single remark she had thrown my way was wrong. I should have known that, but it still itched at me. Even now, three weeks after the fact, I could still feel the discomfort crawling down my back.
By the time I had wrapped up some tasks that needed to be finished by the end of the day, it was already 6 p.m. I was dragging on a tasteless cigarette in the company smoking room when one of my coworkers noted, “You’re looking a little sluggish lately, Suzuki.”
He’d had a kid just the other day. It was probably only because he was right in the prime of his gale, effused with such joy, that he had the leeway to meddle in someone else’s life.
“Do I? Guess I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”
“That’s because you’re so serious all the time. You need to go with the flow. You’ll live longer if you do.”
What he was saying was incorrect. It was because I went with the flow, because I hated running into problems or worries, that I appeared so serious on the outside.
“Or maybe it’s about time you got married, y’know. Have someone at home to support you.”
“I mean, marriage is about supporting each other, so I feel like my private life would just end up tied with my work.”
“See? So serious.” Apparently my words this time were especially apt, and he laughed, exhaling smoke. “Though I guess having a kid to support gives me the strength to work harder here.”
The words of someone right in the midst of his gale, I thought. He was living for the sake of something that he treasured. I once felt that way. That feeling alone makes you feel like you can be anything you want to be. Of course, the fragments of strength, of omnipotence, that you gain from it are all an illusion, and they vanish as soon as your wind does.
“I can’t start thinking about kids yet. I don’t even have any plans to get married. I’m just looking for a good time.”
“No? Wait, so does that mean that girl you were with…”
“Yep.”
Now that he mentioned it, I supposed I had once run into him in town when I was out with Saitou. I hadn’t remembered us having anything more than a casual conversation though.
I could tell that my response gave him a fair idea of the situation, but I figured I should explain more clearly, lest there be any future misunderstandings.
“We broke up.”
“Huh. Shame.”
Was it though?
Putting it that way, I guess it was a shame that I had to let go of a fairly attractive person who would readily satisfy my desires.
“She seemed like she was really into you.”
I gave a vague smile at this ever-so-slightly surprising analysis. I tipped some ashes into the ashtray.
“I guess maybe she was—when we were together. But that’s not always enough.”
“Of course, us dirty old dogs need more than just emotional fulfillment, eh?” he said, laughing at his own joke. I laughed right along.
He wasn’t quite right. I think that Saitou had been trying for emotional love, and she’d succeeded. If only I had been someone whose gust of life had not passed them by—if only I had been someone who had yet to encounter that one special something in their life. She was mistaken in directing her attentions toward me. There was no place left in my heart for a love of the mind alone.
She probably felt that I was the one in the wrong for dating her without letting her know. Perhaps it was best that I accept this discomfort she had left within me, accept my punishment. Anyone who would steal time away from a girl who had yet to meet her gale deserved to be judged.