Chapter 18

I studied the placard by the door to the house, reading the name “Fujimi” on it two or three times. Was she there? I wondered. She had to be there. It was a silly thing to ponder—I’d texted her ahead of time, so I knew she was home. I buzzed the intercom and took a deep breath as I waited. “Yes?” said a voice from the other end of the intercom. There was some static, but I was pretty sure it was her. My girlfriend. “Uh… It’s Kuresawa,” I said, my tone erring on the side of polite. I felt a rush of embarrassment. “Oh, Tasuku! Sure, I’ll open the door right now. Just a second.” I thought I could feel myself flushing red just hearing that sweet voice. The date was February 14—that long-awaited event known as Valentine’s Day. My girlfriend was home now, but she’d only gotten out of the hospital the other day. I couldn’t make her come meet me somewhere, not when it was still so cold out. We were left with one place to see each other. Okay. I just have to act natural, I told myself. I shoved my hands into my pockets and clutched the portable hand warmers I’d stashed there. She’d given them to me the last time we saw each other, and she’d told me to keep them in my pockets because it was cold out. I made sure to have them along whenever I was going to be seeing her, and before I knew it, I’d reached for them a little too often, leaving the warmers a bit raggedy. I was chagrined by that, but of course I still couldn’t stop myself from instinctively grabbing them. I didn’t understand how I could be such a bundle of nerves going to the house of the girl I liked. This was hardly the first time. I kept reminding myself that it wasn’t like we were going to be alone together; her parents would be there. I’d spoken to them in the past, but that thought didn’t relieve my anxiety. A voice reached my ears before the door had even fully opened: “Thanks for coming over!” “Thank you for having me,” I said, waving off her thanks. My palm was still heated from the hand warmer I’d been fiddling with a second before. I shrugged off my coat, and after I’d washed my hands and greeted her parents, we went up to her room. The minute she closed the door, she turned to me with a smile. “When I saw you just now, for a moment, I felt like we were meeting somewhere special. I dressed up a bit for today…” She was wearing a fluffy dress that I hadn’t seen before, which looked as warm as it was adorable. She had on dark-brown tights as well, to keep her legs warm, I was sure. The perfect outfit for a winter day. “I can see that! You look fantastic,” I said, passing her a blanket as she sat down on the carpet. “Thanks, Tasuku,” she said, smiling shyly, and I was seized by the thought that I could look at that smile forever. “Here. I got you a Valentine’s Day gift,” I said and held out a small paper bag I’d brought. She greeted it with a beaming smile. I’d done a lot of looking around and thinking to find the perfect gift for her and had come up with playful chocolates in the shape of marine life. There were dolphins and fish, shells and starfish—shapes practically made to delight my aquarium-loving girlfriend. “Oh wow! Thank you! Here, this is for you,” she said. She gave me a dark, indigo-blue bag with an elegant astronomical design that made it look like it was sprinkled with stars. I knew what it was: a box of chocolates modeled after planets. They actually came from a place I’d been considering until the moment I finally bought her gift. I’d ultimately settled on the theme I thought she would like better. Her choice of gift made it seem like she’d been thinking the same thing. “That’s great. Thanks, Yuki.” We sat facing each other across the low table in the middle of her room. Her eyes were shining, but she cocked her head and said, “So tell me, how many chocolates did you get this year?” She looked so cute when she was being serious. “I didn’t count. Maybe about forty? Lots of little ones again this year. They were doing that thing where they pile up chocolates on a desk for some friendly gambling, but I didn’t do it.” It had been all small chocolates last year, too, but this was the second year they’d done this event, so everyone knew how it worked now. Maybe that explained the huge jump in people who brought candies. The other students had a great time playing card games and wagering chocolates of various sizes. The fervor didn’t die down even after lunch break ended; some people clamored to keep playing after class. Tashiro lost so miserably at poker that not only did he get stripped of almost everything he had on him—even clothing—he actually went into chocolate debt, so that he had to try to slip out during lunch break to get more. That was maybe the highlight of the games. A student ambling toward the front door at that hour of the day naturally attracted attention, which led to awkward questions being asked, which nearly resulted in our entire class getting a serious talking-to. Tashiro came up with the most half-assed excuse you could think of: He claimed that no one gave him chocolates, so he was going to get some for himself. It was just clever enough that they let him off with a stern warning, although I’m pretty sure the teachers knew what was going on. On the opposite end of the spectrum from the happily shirt-bereft Tashiro, you had Miyano, who hadn’t been much for gambling at first. Most people were betting on anything and everything at blackjack, but Miyano wagered calmly and methodically, and by the end he’d won more than anyone in class. And he didn’t even like sweets! I guess you could call not feeling any greed a certain kind of luck. The wagers were ultimately split among those who’d lost out, so in the end even Tashiro was saved. Any chocolates that hadn’t successfully been hidden away by the bell got stuffed into pockets. The guys who did that ended up smelling a bit like chocolate—but it got stronger later. I’d heard that the candy in the twist-tie packages unfortunately melted due to their body heat. “Aww! Your all-guys school sounds so great! What a lot of fun,” Yuki said. “We have a few ‘event-organizer’ types who are always going full throttle,” I said. Some classes didn’t get as rowdy as ours, but we had a lot of people willing to start some fun and even more willing to join in, especially on a day that gave you as good an excuse as Valentine’s Day. “It kind of reminds me of what happened on Halloween. Remember what you told me?” she said. I did remember. On Halloween, lots of people had brought little toys and accessories that sort of served as costumes. It got so out of hand that Miyano, who was on the Disciplinary Committee, had been run ragged by the afternoon. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Lots of treats and plenty of fun,” I said. Then I ventured, “So… Am I the only one you gave chocolates to, Yuki?” She gave me a cheeky look. “Hee-hee. You want me all to yourself?” She was teasing me, but I looked her right in the eye and said, “I do. I wouldn’t know what to think if there was someone else you wanted to give chocolates to.” I saw her blush. Maybe in her mind, the question had been a lighthearted one, like the talk about my classmates. She played with the blanket on her lap, her fingers running over the hem. “That’s no fair, Tasuku, going all serious like that.” She blinked her long eyelashes; she looked happy but also distinctly embarrassed. In fact, I didn’t know she could get so shy. “I tried to pick something I thought you would like,” I said. She relaxed and smiled, but there was still a faint flush in her cheeks. “Really? You’ve learned a lot, Tasuku.” “Eh, it’s mostly thanks to Miyano… Oh, but I don’t mean you shouldn’t give chocolates to your family. Or, I guess, like, your friends.” She chuckled. “I haven’t given anything to anyone yet. I wanted you to be first, naturally.” She looked at the floor. “I’m going to give my family their chocolates tonight. I bet we’ll eat them together. My friends and I are planning to have a chocolate exchange on our next day off.” Oh, of course—they were going out of their way for her. It made me ashamed of my callousness. She was so cute, though. It made my heart leap. “No fair…,” I mumbled, seized by an urge to avert my gaze. I’d taken off my coat, so I couldn’t even shove my hands in my pockets. “Payback.” She grinned, and there was a hint—just the slightest hint—in her smile that showed she really meant it. I tried to make sure I would remember that. She’d only just gotten out of the hospital and now actually got to spend the winter—a season when people often got sick—at home. I’d been shocked when she’d cut her hair two summers ago, but after a year and a half it was getting long again. She had it tied into loose braids—a playful look that really suited her. The white ribbon woven into her hair, arcing gently among her locks, looked absolutely lovely. She was gorgeous no matter what hairstyle she was wearing, so much so that whenever I saw her, I trembled to think that she was my girlfriend. “Okay,” I said, “should we get down to studying?” “If you’d be so kind, Teacher,” Yuki said with deliberate formality, then giggled. I’d promised to help her with her homework after we’d exchanged chocolates. “Er, first… Could we crack the door open? I mean, if you’d be cold, we don’t have to…” “Sure, sure. The heater must be really blasting in here for you.” “No, it’s all right. I just don’t want to worry your parents.” She gave me a puzzled look—but a second later she figured out what I was saying and nodded, looking a little embarrassed again. I opened the door—only the slightest bit, so that our voices wouldn’t be a bother. And just as I opened it, my eyes met those of Yuki’s mom, who had come by with drinks and snacks. I was a little nervous that she’d overheard us. Her eyes were kind, and she was smiling as she said, “Thank you for being so considerate. I mean, about the door. But isn’t it cold? If you don’t mind the temperature, Tasuku, then maybe it would be best to keep it closed…” Shoot. She had heard us. “Thank you, but I would really prefer to leave it open,” I said. Maybe it would sound like I was trying too hard, but the last thing I wanted to do was cause unnecessary worry for the people who cared about Yuki. My girlfriend, Yuki Fujimi, went to a correspondence school, and she had to do most of her studying on her own. Keeping up with high-school level material when she was sick so often was a real struggle. I tried to help her as best I could to review things she wasn’t quite getting. It was funny how, sitting across from each other like this, it felt like we’d been studying together forever. And yet back in middle school, when we’d actually been classmates, I hadn’t even talked to her until some mutual friends had dragged me to visit her in the hospital. “Oh, by the way. Miyano and Sasaki started dating recently,” I said. We’d finished one review, and she’d set down her pencil for a moment. I’d wanted to mention it to her sometime today, and this felt like a natural moment. Heck, it almost felt like we went to the same school—like we were just chatting at lunchtime or during study period. Her face lit up at the news and she clapped her hands together like she might start applauding. “They’re going out? Congratulations to them! Oh my gosh! I’m as happy as if it were happening to me!” And strangely, I felt happy too, receiving the congratulations on Miyano’s behalf. Maybe I should let him know how delighted Yuki was for him. “You are? You’ve never met them,” I said. “It doesn’t matter,” she replied. “You’re obviously happy about it, so I’m thrilled, too!” I didn’t speak right away—I hadn’t said anything about how I felt. I was too embarrassed to point that out, so all I could do was be quiet. I slid my glasses back up the bridge of my nose. It was like Yuki could see right into the deepest parts of me. She noticed slight shifts of emotion that even Miyano or Tashiro would have missed. “That’s what you do when you’re embarrassed,” she whispered with a smile, leaning toward me over the low table. The sweet, delighted tone in her voice—I had to cry uncle. I nodded slowly, trying not to bump Yuki’s arm or the coffee cup. “I’m not sure it’s all happiness. It’s more like…finally.” “Hee-hee!” She grinned, and she looked so much more at ease than she did in her hospital room. No matter how accustomed you were to hospital life, it was good to be out; I was sure it must be a relief for her. The thought brought with it a wave of melancholy. I knew she needed those hospital stays for her own safety, and I knew she was an expert at finding fun wherever she was. But still.