Itobayashi Akane
“—
THE NEXT THING SHE KNEW, Akane was in a familiar room—the white, square one—and oddly enough, she could feel a breeze.
When she looked up, she saw a window. She didn’t know this place had windows.
Outside, the sky was a bright shade of vermilion. Be it a sunrise or a sunset, the beautiful sight captivated her all the same.
Then she noticed the red sofa in the center of the room. She couldn’t remember it being there before, but she was currently seated on it. To her right was an armrest, but to her left was room for one more to sit—and it wasn’t until she looked over that she realized she was not, in fact, alone.
Another girl was sitting there with a scowl, wearing the same school uniform, the same hairstyle, and most importantly, the same face. Yet Akane felt this girl was someone else entirely. She was wearing glasses she didn’t need, makeup that was a step beyond a natural look, piercings she didn’t like, a skirt that was rolled up a bit shorter than she would prefer, and she spoke in a voice that was higher than her own.
“I never meant to trap you in here, you know.”
When she spoke, Akane remembered who this girl was supposed to be. Suddenly overcome with disgust, she averted her eyes. “Shut up.”
“It’s not okay to tell someone to die, either. That’s messed up.”
“Be quiet.”
“I mean, you’re the one who wants to be liked, not me.”
At this, Akane shot her a glare, but the other girl simply stared back, so she averted her eyes again. When the girl descended into silence, Akane saw no need to break it herself. Instead, as she gazed through the window, she wondered where it had come from.
“It was there from the start,” the girl said suddenly.
But Akane was fairly sure she hadn’t said a word out loud. Had the other girl somehow read her mind?
“Of course, silly. I live here, too, you know.”
Akane’s first reaction was to accept this as logical. Then she cursed herself for it and made an attempt not to think of anything at all. The girl next to her must have sensed this, however.
“Well, that sucks. I came here to talk to you, after all.”
For a while they both gazed out through the window, and then the girl spoke again.
“How long are you planning to keep this up?”
Akane didn’t answer—just kept looking at the sky.
“It meant a lot, didn’t it?”
“…What did?”
Really, she didn’t need to ask, since they shared the same heart.
“He wants us to keep living, even though he can’t understand or sympathize in the slightest.”
Akane thought back to the place where she was before this, and a hint of emotion rose up. She didn’t even have time to identify it before she was caught in the act.
“Did you know?” the girl continued without waiting for an answer to her question. “The window isn’t the only thing you never noticed was here.” As she spoke, she rose to her feet and walked around behind the sofa.
Akane was interested to learn more about the room, so she turned her head to look. In the corner, she could see a small cabinet she didn’t recognize.
“Come see.”
Loath as she was to take orders from this girl, she was curious about the cabinet, so she got up from the sofa and walked over. Through its glass doors, she could see that it was empty inside, but there were a few items on top of it.
Several books, including Girl’s March—both the pocket paperback and the full-sized edition.
Her Anmanman plush.
Nail polish.
The gerbera, which by all accounts should have wilted by now.
A small corkboard decorated with purikura photos taken with friends.
“And one more thing.”
The girl reached into her pocket and pulled out a cheap necklace, which she set on top of the cabinet with the rest. It was once a birthday gift from the boy she used to date.
“We actually really liked Shin, you know. And yet we dumped him.”
“No, you dumped him.”
“Only because you decided to.” With an exaggerated sigh, the girl went back to digging around in her pockets. “Nope, nothing else in here.”
“What is this stuff?”
“Don’t play dumb.” With a knowing smirk, she reached out and gave Anmanman a squeeze. “This is all we have right now. It’s not much, but we can work on it as we go.”
“How?”
“Again, you already know the answer to that. I have a different job to do.”
She didn’t turn around to face Akane—probably out of embarrassment—but she looked over her shoulder, wearing a familiar smile.
“I’ll keep you safe out there.”
She was clearly trying to be cute on purpose, but not to an obnoxious degree. It was an expression carefully calculated to make others like her.
“So it’s up to you to make this place feel like home.”
Twirling her skirt, she walked off to the other side of the room. Upon closer inspection, Akane realized there was a door over there.
The girl put her hand on the knob. “See you later.” And without waiting for a reply, she walked out.
To Akane, it felt right.
“See you,” she muttered, once she was alone in the room. Then she went back to looking at the items on the shelf, one by one.
Before she knew it, she had forgotten her feelings of hostility and hate.
✦ ✦ ✦
The next thing she knew, Akane was in an unfamiliar room, with wallpaper she didn’t recognize.
Judging from the feel of the fabric against her skin, she understood that she was lying on a bed, so she sat up. She was in what looked to be a studio apartment, furnished with a sofa and coffee table. Empty beer cans littered the floor.
On the sofa, a blonde woman was curled up, asleep. Akane stared at her for a long moment until at last she recognized her.
She tried to comb through her memories, but they were fuzzy. She could remember sitting on the stairs, but nothing past that. How in the world had she ended up here?
As she was mulling it over, however, she heard a noise at the front door…and when she heard someone come walking down the hall in her direction, she braced for the worst.
This soon proved unnecessary, because what she got instead was Ukawa Ai.
“Oh, you’re awake.”
“Where am I?”
“See Fujino over there on the sofa? This is her apartment. You were out like a light, and her place was the closest.”
“I don’t remember coming here…”
“We both carried you.”
Just then, it occurred to Akane that she didn’t know what time it was. Through the gap in the window curtains, she could see only the darkness of night. Fortunately, Ai seemed to sense what she was worried about.
“It’s 4 a.m.,” he told her as he sat cross-legged on a cushion on the floor. “Fujino said she’d apologize to your parents on your behalf, but you should probably come clean to them and face their fury on your own.”
“Ugh…I’d rather not,” she replied honestly, then looked down at her palm. A moment ago there were two of her, but now she was back to one single body.
“Are you hurt?”
At this question, she looked over at him. Then she thought long and hard before answering: “I’m not sure, but…I feel like I could stick around a little longer.”
He smiled. With his next words, she quickly learned that he had misunderstood.
“I’m flattered. Thanks.”
“Not with you! I mean…not just with you.”
“Gotcha.” He almost certainly had no idea what she was talking about, but still he nodded along, sipping from his canned coffee. “Well, if you ever start to feel suicidal again, come by our workplace. I’ll be there—most likely. And if I’m not, Fujino will be.”
As usual, he was beautiful and overprotective and a little rough around the edges.
“Okay.”
He wasn’t Ai, and she was pretty sure she wasn’t The Girl, but both of her selves refused to let this connection fizzle out quite yet.
“Before I die, we should go somewhere for fun. I think I suggested skydiving at one point?”
“I meant to tell you before, but I can’t do that shit. I’m scared of heights.”
“Are you serious? You are such a freaking guilt-tripper!”
She sculpted a teasing expression and paired it with a playful voice to test her older friend’s patience. Though he wasn’t entirely happy, he seemed to interpret it as charming, and the power imbalance inherent in their age gap narrowed ever so slightly.
“Lay off, brat.”
Her every action was purposeful, and his reactions were more or less exactly what she was angling for. As instructed by her need to be liked, she shared a laugh with him, just to see what it was like.
Her heart still ached, but if she didn’t have to bear it alone, then perhaps she could find it in her to keep trying, one day at a time.