Did Edamoto-san resent me for behaving this way?
“Probably not…”
I could tell just by observing her attitude.
Normally, Edamoto-san would have just said goodbye earlier and left it at that.
But if she did that, it would be no different from before.
If nothing was going to change, she would change things herself.
I’m sure she was trying her hardest—to the point where she didn’t have the capacity to think about my complex feelings.
She was a very good person, I thought.
But as basic as this problem might be, I didn’t feel love for her from the bottom of my heart.
…But did that really mean it wouldn’t work?
If we weren’t completely enamored with each other, could we not date?
Was that the only shape love could take?
What does it mean to be completely enamored?
I did think Edamoto-san’s affection for me was pure, if not exactly complete. She wasn’t hiding behind frivolity, like Senpai had been. Surely, responding to that would feel nice.
We would be able to create a very comfortable relationship, I’m sure.
And yet, I kept scrutinizing her affection.
…So that I wouldn’t make a mistake this time.
…For a moment, I had the fleeting thought that if it wasn’t going to work out, it would be better not to try it in the first place.
But if that was how I really felt, then I would have turned her down right away.
I wanted to find a different answer, one that didn’t seem like it was lurking down in a hole.
Not something dark but something bright.
I looked up at the sky, almost as though I were looking up from within the water.
Before I knew it, my eyes were blinded by the sunlight, and I shielded them with my hand.
The back of my eyes felt heavy after absorbing all that light at once. Until I became acclimated to it, the scenery seemed to spin.
Beyond the palm of my hand, the sun slipped under the cover of clouds, and the light gradually weakened.
Seeing the opportunity, I moved away my hand. The sun’s radiance was weak enough to observe even with my naked eyes.
It wasn’t as though there was some answer waiting for me beyond that blinding light.
I knew that no matter what conclusion I reached, the glitter of the sun wouldn’t change.
The shape of the clouds and the blueness of the sky wouldn’t change, either. They would continue to flow along just the same.
But my worries were still large enough to shake an entire world.
It was all an issue of my heart.
When I got home, I had the notion to call a friend of mine for the first time in a while.
It was something that I could talk to her about later if she didn’t pick up, but the call immediately connected.
“Oh, it’s Sayaka.”
My high school friend’s voice sounded like an entirely different person over the phone.
“It’s been a while.”
“Who is that? Oh, sounds like Sayaka.”
I heard another voice on the line.
It was Manaka, who lived with Midori, joining in on the conversation as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Sayaka, you’re so mean. This is the third time now.”
“The third time?”
“That you called Midori but not me.”
“Erm…yes, I suppose so.”
I wondered why she would know the number of times I’d called and then realized it was because they were always together. In that case, it didn’t really matter which of them I called, since I could talk to both of them either way. But I supposed that was why Manaka was complaining that I still called Midori rather than her.
I hadn’t even realized I was doing that until she pointed it out.
In high school, when we entered our third year and changed classes, I wound up in the same class as Midori. Since we were separated from Manaka, I supposed I might have become closer to Midori. My priorities were such that I would automatically dial Midori when I called. Although, that might be based more on their personalities than anything.
The drastic differences that can come about from such minor reasons are one aspect of relationships that make them so curious and interesting, and requires careful attentiveness.
“Well, I thought we’d end up going off-topic if I called you, Manaka.”
“Yeah, fair enough.”
With that ready admission, the discussion was over. Manaka was quick to speak and quick to finish.
The only one who could keep up with her pace was probably Midori.
“So, I’d like to ask you for something that might be a little strange.”
“Something strange? Oh, this sounds good. I’d sure be interested in your strange side.”
“That’s true. We’ve only ever seen Sayaka being normal.”
I felt like they were taking this as an opportunity to drag me. What did it mean for me to be normal, though? It was easy enough to picture my abnormal self—I just had to think back to when I was drunk. Right now, that was a side of me that only Edamoto-san knew.
“All right, then, here comes the weird request.”
“I’m going to try my hardest to be weird, too.”
“You don’t even have to try to be weird.”
I lightly cleared my throat, though privately I agreed. Even though I trusted them, it was still a somewhat embarrassing thing to ask from friends. But it would be even worse to ask someone I wasn’t this close with.
What I wanted to know was the subtle difference that made.
“I want you to try telling me you love me.”
After I said it, I felt like it was sort of a very arrogant request.
Or maybe it just sounded like I was starved for affection.
“Although if you don’t love me, I wouldn’t want to force you.”
“No, no, it’s fine. Uh, um, should I say it?”
“Or me?”
“For now, let’s go with Midori.”
“Aw, I got rejected.”
I had no idea what Midori had done to the lamenting Manaka, but lighthearted shrieks reached me—“Take that” and “Ahh!”
Should I be concerned about that?
“Okay, I’m going to say it.”
Midori paused for a moment and mumbled, “This is embarrassing.” Then she spoke: “I love you, Sayaka.”
“Thank you…”
The appreciative love from my friend reached me and blew through me like a spring breeze.
It was fleeting and didn’t dwell in my chest.
“Oh, you just cheated on me.”
I almost burst out laughing at Manaka’s response. And I couldn’t hold it back when Midori replied to her.
“She asked me to say it, so it’s not cheating, plus it wouldn’t be cheating in the first place… Also, why are you even talking about cheating?”
“Well, I’m pretty sure you’ve never told me that you love me before, Midori.”
“Uh, ah…I haven’t?”
“I don’t think so.”
In a close relationship, sometimes people neglect to express those kinds of sentiments.
Even I couldn’t recall the last time my family had exchanged the words I love you with each other.
Of course, it was a given that you loved them.
But maybe people ought to check in with each other’s feelings more on a daily basis, just like how we examine facilities and equipment so they don’t fail.