The final landing was denied to her by a force pulling her backward. A sudden sharp pain erupted across her arm and shoulder as it was practically twisted behind her back, making her yelp and squirm. Then something hard pushed against her chest—but before she realized it was a fist, or understood that he had grabbed her by the shirt collar, she felt the pushing sensation invert itself.
What happened next was an explosion of emotion, the likes of which she had never been subjected to in all her life.
“The fuck are you doing?!”
Before her eyes could focus on the man in front of her, she called out in a panic.
“Ai!”
Then she remembered: no, he wasn’t Ai. This man who liked to dress in women’s clothes, who was always honest to a fault, who was currently very angry for some reason—he wasn’t her Ai. Not anymore. He couldn’t possibly smell of sweet poison.
“Come here!”
“Let go of me!”
It felt to her like a scream, but in actuality, her voice had become so hoarse that even she could barely hear it—like someone was wringing her neck, and she couldn’t speak. She could feel her body being pulled by force away from the road.
“Stop! I don’t want to go there anymore!”
Again, the feeling didn’t leave her lips, and so it didn’t reach anyone around her. The crosswalk light must have changed, because the idling crowd ignored her cries for help and flowed away. But it was only because they didn’t know—because they had no way of hearing a voice without sound. This she understood deeply. As usual, no one perceived her true desires.
She was once again yanked up by the collar, her feet lifting off the ground until she was on tiptoe.
That was when their eyes met.
“Look here, I don’t know if you’re trying to reenact that book again, but nothing gives you the right to put yourself in danger, you idiot!”
His face was the very picture of menacing, and as she gazed at it up close, she wondered what he could possibly be so angry about. A feeling of indignation rose in her chest until her heart threatened to explode.
You don’t know me. You don’t know a single thing. Someone who isn’t Ai could never understand what it’s like to drown. Do you know what gave me hope? You don’t, do you? And yet you have the audacity to stop me and get mad at me with no intention of taking responsibility for the outcome of your actions—all so you can pat yourself on the back for “being authentic,” right? You’ve never once stopped to imagine how it would feel to have your true self locked away, but that sure won’t stop you from telling me I’m wrong, now will it?
She couldn’t possibly let it go. Glaring back into his eyes, she took a deep breath. This time she would scream at the top of her lungs, and he would feel her rage.
But the words that came out were nothing like what she had pictured in her head.
“I…I’m sorry…I just…I don’t know what came over me…”
She had donned a look of fear. She was shrinking into herself and trembling. Her eyes were damp and threatening to spill over.
What am I doing? After all that, I’m still a slave to that desire?
Then she saw the girl in the mirror standing there, smiling, and a sound unlike anything she’d ever made before erupted from the back of her throat. But despite being the closest to that sound, she didn’t hear it. With all her might, she flung off the arm gripping her collar and slammed her bookbag into the man in front of her.
Then, paying no mind to his reaction, she moved immediately to her next target, clenching her fist—and plunging it into her own stomach.
The impact shot across her entire body. With the pain came nausea, and she fell to her knees on the spot.
It hurts!
On the ground, she went for a second hit, and when she doubled over, a third. Since she wasn’t attacking herself, she didn’t need to hold back. Fluid sprang up from her stomach, and she spat it lightly onto the ground.
I can’t breathe!
It was the truth, but she couldn’t afford to stop now. There was still a different emotion on the surface.
Why am I doing this in public? What if someone I know sees me? What if rumors start to spread and everyone distances themselves from me? Even if they’re strangers, these people still think I’m a freak! I need to stand up right now and show them it was just another silly teenage phase—
“Get out of me!”
This time the words escaped. Unable to stay upright, she plunged to the ground, her face messy with tears and drool—but he grabbed her by the arms, catching her.
“Knock it off!”
“Screw you!”
Whipping her head up, she felt her skull collide with something hard, and heard him cry out in pain behind her. When she turned, she saw that he had staggered backward, clutching his jaw.
“Look, will you just calm down?!”
“You don’t get it!”
“What?!”
Evidently the headbutt and bag attack weren’t enough to discourage him, so she rose to her feet and turned to face him. Now that she had weakened the girl inside her, this was her chance to finally say it.
“Someone with zero filter, who’s only ever been his authentic self, has no right to stop me and act like he knows what’s best for me!”
She had managed to say it, but there was no sense of accomplishment or self-actualization. All she felt was the anxiety of having lashed out haphazardly, and since she didn’t know if she should keep going, she paused to swallow the contents of her mouth—bitter, sour, and sweet.
If she’d had the capacity to predict how he would react to this, how would she have interpreted the faint shift in his expression?
“Hey,” he called out to her quietly, gruffly, as he took a couple steps forward. “Just let me say this.”
The next thing she knew, he was mere inches away, and at that distance, even at the height of her crisis, she could read the look in his eyes. Though he wasn’t her Ai, last she checked, this Ukawa Ai appeared to be even angrier than before.
“If I spent every waking moment as my ‘authentic’ self, I wouldn’t have bothered coming to fucking find you, okay?”
Like his gaze, his rage was surely directed at Akane, and yet she sensed there was more to it. Right now, however, she had no way of figuring out who else was involved.
“I don’t know what kind of ‘filter’ you have, and I don’t care. No matter who you are inside, I don’t want you trying to hurt my friend ever again. All this stuff about fictional characters and true selves—it has nothing to do with the fact that I came looking for you, Itobayashi Akane. I stopped you because I don’t want you getting hurt, dumbass!”
Spittle flew from his mouth as he roared in her face, and with no counter-argument, she fell silent. To be clear, this wasn’t because she was touched to discover the depths of her friend’s feelings, like in a novel or manga. Even now, he was willing to open up and be bluntly honest at the risk of making her dislike him, and she didn’t understand why she couldn’t have been born or raised that way, too, and that made her so frustrated and bitter and jealous.
There were no extra tears added in; Akane didn’t know how to shed unintentional tears in public if they weren’t caused by physical pain. But her throat hitched, and she couldn’t speak.
“I hope you can understand that, but even if you can’t, you’re coming with me. We’re getting out of here.”
Through her eyes, she could see many different reactions from the people around her. They were ever-so-subtly giving the odd couple a wide berth. Then she caught a glimpse of something held out in her direction and took it on reflex, her arms buckling under its weight.
“Here, hold onto your Anmanman.”
After setting the shoulder strap carefully onto her shoulder, he turned to lead the way. Before she could process what to do next, he grabbed her by the wrist.
“You don’t have to be on death’s door for me to hold your hand, because I’m not that other Ai,” he explained cautiously, even though she hadn’t protested. It made her wonder how someone who wasn’t her Ai could still be so protective of her.