“Google it and you’ll find our website. If that doesn’t convince you, you should swing by whenever we’re holding an event you think you’d like. I’ll probably be working.”
“Really?”
Internally, what she meant was: will you really still exist after today? But Akane’s compulsive need to be liked took the word and changed it to a playful inversion of that suspicion. Thankfully, he laughed.
“I mean, you don’t have to trust me.” His smile was exactly as she had always imagined it would be. “Anyway, what did you think of your first Impatiens concert?”
Now that they had each established some level of legitimacy, Ai kindly served up a topic they had in common. Fortunately, Akane had a deep understanding of these sorts of questions. To avoid threatening the other person’s values, she would praise their good taste with every word, then pepper in her own opinions like curveballs.
“It was so cool! To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever really understood what makes music great until now. And sure, they’re pretty, but they’re also badass, so it’s like a one-two punch. Also, that was my first time seeing an idol group, and I had no idea how hyped the crowds get. It must take so much energy to dance nonstop in those bulky costumes. I swear they must be like zero percent body fat.”
Out of consideration for the other people in the cafe, she conveyed excitement with her expression and body language rather than her voice. With each statement, Ai was an active listener, nodding along and encouraging her to continue. Conversely, Akane made sure to ask questions so he could be part of the conversation.
“Do you have a favorite member?”
“I do.” He nodded without missing a beat, suggesting he was comparatively more invested in one specific person than the band as a whole.
Indeed, the Ai she knew loved people at an above-average intensity. But the ability to identify and measure other people’s emotions was crucial to avoid making unfavorable comments—so was it respect, romance, or just his protective nature?
“You know Gotou Julia, the one with the pixie cut?”
In truth, as someone with little interest in pop stars, Akane hadn’t been able to size up every single member of the band, especially not from across a dimly lit room. The one in question, however, had caught her eye a fair few times.
“That’s the tomboy-looking girl, right? She totally killed those dance numbers.”
“Yeah, her. I’ve been a fan of Julia’s from the start.”
She felt a hint of fondness, but before she could analyze it, Ai changed the subject.
“You really were paying attention to the different members, huh? Sorry I doubted you.”
“What?” She widened her eyes and pursed her lips in a wide, flat line to convey a level of charming uncertainty. Then, once she thought of her next words, she donned a guilty expression. “I mean…um…to be honest with you, I don’t have all the names and faces down 100 percent…”
She cursed herself internally for letting her apathy show, but felt equally reassured that she had somehow inadvertently managed to be genuine. However, this was evidently not what Ai meant.
“There are seven of ’em, so that’s normal. What I mean is…you thought I was your friend at first, but I turned out to be a random crossdresser, and yet you tagged along anyway, so…I thought maybe you were just rolling with it. And to be fair, that would have been fine. But you’ve made it clear you weren’t lying about wanting to see the concert, so…I’m sorry I doubted you.”
Those words were, in Akane’s mind, what truly cemented him both as a part of her reality and as the real Ai from the book.
“No, no, it’s fine, really!”
Anyone would feel guilty for having doubted someone in the past. Most people, however, wouldn’t feel compelled to admit it after their feelings had changed, having the good sense to know that wasn’t necessary. But Ai would admit it. He was the kind of person who presented his unvarnished self to others, regardless of whether he stood to gain from doing so. And just like the protagonist of Girl’s March, Akane had always deeply admired him for that.
“I admit, it was such a crazy coincidence that I’d be suspicious too, if I were you. But I really did think it was a free admission night… If anything, I wish I was the kind of genius who could think of a scheme like that on the fly.”
She had no difficulty whatsoever in lying to his face, and for that, she hated herself so much she could die. And whenever that happened…
“Well then, you’re lucky you arrived right when you did.”
“I’m grateful to you and this miracle both!”
Ugh, not again. Internally, she cringed.
Regardless of the context of their conversation, Akane could see it. In addition to Ai smiling beautifully in front of her, other customers within eyeshot, and their ordered drinks sitting atop their wooden table, she could see a colorless white room.
This was something she hallucinated from time to time. Whenever her self-hatred surpassed the point that no amount of tongue-biting could control it, a small white room would appear, overlaid with reality. Four blank walls with no windows or doors—silent and sterile, like a solitary confinement cell. Inside the room was the real her, dreaming of the day she would be allowed outside, even though she was sure it would only ever be just that: a dream.
“So tell me, what’s this other Ai like?”
Until today.
Though she knew it would never get through to anyone, in truth, she was always screaming out: SOMEONE HELP ME! SOMEONE FIND ME! But now she realized that the person right in front of her might be able to hear that voice.
If she really was The Girl…
“Wellll…actually…the thing is…”
Manipulating the tone and tempo of her voice while desperately fighting the need to be liked, Akane opened up to him, secretly entrusting him with her hopes of understanding and compassion and salvation in a way that her outer self wouldn’t notice. She felt no fear doing this, which was odd, because she could normally never admit to something so bizarre. Thus, she started to think that perhaps Ai had already begun helping her to change.
Alas, she was wrong. She was by no means freed. She simply knew that someone like him would react positively if she admitted to a lie in order to apologize and come clean.