“You’re not supposed to agree!” I joked, easing the tension a little.
Drip drip.
Rain started to fall, smacking audibly against the ground.
Unable to sleep, I kept staring into empty space. As I felt my eyes get more used to the darkness, the light in the room visibly faded. Clouds must have covered the moon.
My eyes remained open for a while, but I eventually got bored.
“Senpai.”
“Hm?”
“Why did you and your ex break up?”
I felt a little regret in telling her about my ex.
Reina was in the past now.
If only we hadn’t run into each other at the mall. If only she hadn’t called me. She would’ve sunk into the depths of my memories and eroded away. I didn’t want to be reminded of her by talking about this again.
Besides, spending time and effort on a problem that couldn’t be solved was a waste of time. I felt stronger about that now that I was starting to sober up.
Essentially, I had nothing to tell her.
“I can tell from how you’ve acted that you don’t like sharing this intimate stuff, so even if it was just because of the alcohol, I’m happy for what you did tell me.”
“Happy? Why?”
“Why? What do you mean, ‘why’?” She repeated it as if she thought I was being ridiculous, but since I truly was confused, I stayed silent, expecting an answer. “Because it makes me feel like you trust me.”
I mentally repeated the word trust. Believing in someone, relying on them. I knew what it meant, but I had to think about it a little because trust wasn’t a conscious action. Frankly, I didn’t mean it that way at all. Reina was just too much to handle alone, and drunkenness had caused the dam to leak a little.
“I saw part of you that you don’t let others see,” she added.
Those words reminded me of Ayaka. The fact that I knew a side of her that nobody else knew could be called a sign of trust, and it’d be a lie to say it didn’t make me happy.
In that sense, maybe I did trust Shinohara. I couldn’t disagree with her interpretation of my vulnerability as a sign of trust.
“Maybe,” I replied. She sat up and looked down at me. I could only see her face slightly, but it gazed directly at mine.
“I was thinking I shouldn’t ask about it too much, but it’s really on my mind.” Her serious tone of voice hinted at the coming question. “Did something happen with her today?”
I fell silent, and the pitter-patter of rain on the window got even more noticeable. I imagined the winter night’s rain was especially cold.
The moonlight shining in before was now being blocked out by clouds, making it impossible to see her face.
This silence would be answer enough for her.
“Can you not trust me, after all?”
“That’s not a fair way to word it. Trusting you and telling you something are two different things.”
I didn’t want to talk about it because I wanted to forget about Reina, and I didn’t think telling Shinohara would help either of us. It was a problem that could only be solved by my own personal growth. It had nothing to do with how much I trusted her.
They were two totally unrelated matters.
“If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t let you stay in my home,” I said bluntly. She didn’t answer, so I looked up to the ceiling and continued, “Do you spill everything to people just because you trust them? Me, for example.”
Maybe this analogy was too vain. But she’d kept coming to my house for days, and that had resulted in her staying tonight. I doubted she could honestly say she didn’t trust me. I knew that this observation might have been too one-sided and optimistic, so I was relieved that she didn’t disagree.
“You’re right. I feel the same way too.” She spoke slowly, as if wringing words out through gritted teeth. “Trusting someone and telling them your deepest secrets aren’t the same.”
Apparently convinced, she lay back down. I couldn’t see her, but I could tell she had her back to me.
“I’m just happy to have learned something,” she said. “Everyone makes the same distinction you do, I think.”
“That’s just how I am. I dunno about anyone else.”
“Everyone must. I do too.” She sighed and added, “There are things I don’t want to tell you, either.”
Was she talking about Ayaka, or something related to Ayaka? Or something totally different?
In hypothesizing, I realized something: The desire for people to tell you things stemmed from you caring about them. That must be how Shinohara felt just now too.
“I’ve decided,” she suddenly said.
“On?”
“I’m going to make you like me more.”
Her sudden declaration took me aback. “Wh-what are you going on about now?”
“I mean, it’s frustrating how we’re together all the time but you won’t tell me things. I want the kind of relationship that makes you want to tell me naturally.”
I felt her turn toward me again. She was close enough for me to feel her breath.
“Good night, Senpai.” Her arm gently reached around my waist.
A modest embrace, a soft touch. The smell of shampoo wafted from her neck and into my nose.
There was real warmth there. The embrace continued for a while until she finally took her hand off my waist.
“Ha ha! My heart was racing.”
“You’re the one who did it, though.” I tried to sound firm so she wouldn’t know how nervous I was.
“I mean… It was my first time.”
“Doing what?”
“That’s a secret!” Shinohara snatched the blanket away and wrapped herself up in it.
“Hey, I’m cold! Gimme that back!”
She giggled and buried her face in it. I resigned myself, took the blanket from the futon I’d put down to sleep on earlier, and brought it to bed.
From today on, she’d only interfere in my daily life more. We’d only known each other for a month, but she had already dug her roots so deeply into my life that I couldn’t get her out of my mind. The thought of our relationship progressing further kind of excited me.
“Well, good night,” I said.
No reply.
I could hear her soft breathing from a few centimeters away.
“Man. Conks out in no time.” I laughed to myself and scooched away a little.
Tonight, I wouldn’t need to dredge up the past. Thinking of my new everyday life, I closed my eyes.