“So, yeah, one of the friends I planned to bring can’t make it,” I told Mike-san over the phone.
“No problem. It’s not like we had seats reserved or anything. Thanks for letting me know, though.” A single sneeze accompanied Mike-san’s response.
I could still hear her sniffling as I asked if she was okay.
“I’ve been so busy lately prepping for the school festival, I haven’t had much time to rest. My voice is all nasal now. It’s so embarrassing.”
“Sorry to make you talk on the phone. Are your preparations going smoothly?”
“Well, it’s been nearly impossible to settle on a cohesive concept,” she sighed. “None of the higher-ups on any course want to budge. It’s just one new take after another.”
For the festival’s fashion show, students from the beauty school’s hair and makeup department, nail art department, and fashion department—as well as from the sister school for fashion design—would team up to deck out models head to toe. The models were studying at the school too. The students themselves would be responsible for everything, even setting up the venue. And although the fashion show was part of the school festival, the results would likely influence their grades.
“Various industry members come watch, so everyone wants to show off their best work,” Mike-san explained. “We’re also marked, and if a model’s hair and makeup score high enough, we get invitations to enter contests and stuff. So I have to do whatever it takes.”
She’d gotten sick in the first place because she was so busy with meetings that ran late day after day, followed by shifts at her part-time job. She’d had no time to rest or recover from her fatigue, and since she lived alone, no one was around to look after her. All she could do was wait for her fever to break, unable to eat or drink anything.
“Couldn’t you have asked a friend to come take care of you?”
“Wouldn’t it be awkward asking a female friend to swing by a guy’s house as a favor? On the other hand, I don’t want men coming to my place either.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
The line remained silent until Mike-san spoke up. “So,” she continued cheerfully, “I’m guessing the fact that you called means there’s something else you want to talk about?”
“Um, Mike-san…”
“Yes?”
“I love my girlfriend.”
“You suddenly felt the need to brag about that?” She giggled over the line.
I chuckled in response, stroking Ichika’s head as she slept in my bed. Once Ichika was off to dreamland, basically nothing roused her. I confirmed that she was breathing rhythmically, then searched for the words I wanted to say.
“What is it?” Mike-san asked. “Did you fight?”
“Nope. We’re affectionate every day.”
What on earth am I building up to? I let my gaze wander until it rested on Ichika’s bag, which she’d placed under my bed. I never should’ve gone through it without permission, even if it was just to check her homework notebook. I didn’t want anyone opening my closet door; Ichika, likewise, would obviously have a secret or two she wanted to conceal.
In her bag, I’d seen more brochures and pamphlets for info sessions, mostly for beauty schools and so on. One brochure was a little different, though—it advertised an info session for a women’s junior college scheduled on the same day as Mike-san’s school festival. Realizing that Ichika had canceled her plans with me to visit that school completely threw me for a loop.
“I love my girlfriend,” I repeated.
“Yes, you’ve made that very clear.”
“I think I depend on her too much, though.” Why was she planning to go without saying anything? She could at least have mentioned it to me.
I knew Ichika and I wouldn’t be together 24/7 once high school ended, and it wasn’t like we’d promised to attend the same school after graduating. She still hadn’t decided what she wanted to do, and it wasn’t at all strange that another institution might’ve caught her eye. Yet when I spotted that pamphlet, I couldn’t help thinking, Maybe Ichika wants to get away from me.
Since we were children, all she’d done was protect me. I was self-aware enough to realize how audacious my behavior had become after I started hanging out in her room, but I’d almost taken her indulgence for granted, since she never rebuffed me.
I loved Ichika. I wanted to kiss her, to hold her. On the other hand, part of me seethed with jealously at her femininity. It wasn’t that I wanted to be a girl myself. She was just so precious and lovely that I couldn’t bear it. However hard I racked my brain, I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to do with myself.
“I…might be holding her back,” I continued.
My possessiveness had bound her hand and foot. I’d started to assume she’d always be by my side; I even felt assured that she’d accommodate my career. I’d tried to shove her into my closet to protect myself without considering, for one moment, how she felt.