“You have a doctor’s appointment today, right? Be safe,” I continued. Anything to keep the conversation going.
“I will.”
I was hoping Kanba would make some kind of joke to lighten the mood, but was ultimately left disappointed. And so we ate the rest of our breakfast in silence, the only sound that of clinking silverware. Over time, I started to think maybe I messed up.
Feeling guilty and miserable, I left the house along with Kanba. But as far as I knew, I didn’t say anything wrong…did I?
After a routine medical examination, Himari sat across the desk from Sanetoshi in his exam room, staring blankly at the CT scan of her own body. She didn’t know much about anatomy, but she could see all of her body fat, muscles, and internal organs—the things keeping her alive and moving on a daily basis.
“Stunning, isn’t it?” Sanetoshi asked, noticing the direction of her gaze and smiling faintly. Her expression was so serious, one would think she was trying to search her soul through the X-ray images. “Now, allow me to tell you a love story.”
The chair creaked as he rose to his feet. Then he pulled down all the images from the film viewer.
“You take one step forward, he takes one step back. You take one step back, he takes one step forward. It was all going so well, but then one day he became distant, and now he’s gone. So, what would you do in that situation?”
Stunned by the sudden question, Himari paused just long enough to take a breath.
“If it were me, I wouldn’t chase him,” she answered.
She was wearing a white angora sweater and a white knee-length gathered skirt over thick wine-colored wool leggings and her usual cowgirl boots.
“Why not?”
Sanetoshi stood in the middle of the large clock projected on the wall. Here in the dimly lit exam room, his lab coat and starched button-down were tinged sky-blue. His charcoal gray pants and black shoes blended in with the shadows, while his cosmic eyes and long, pale rainbow hair seemed to glow by contrast.
“It seems like it’d be exhausting.”
“Sure, that’s a perfectly valid opinion to have. So you’re saying you only want to be chased, never the other way around.” He smiled, raising his eyebrows.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She tilted her head slightly as she looked at him. His eyes were speckled with stars, but no amount of gazing into them helped her get a read on him.
“Well, if neither of you chases the other, you’re essentially telling each other that you refuse to make the first move.”
“What’s so bad about that?” Himari asked, staring at the floor.
“No romance will ever come of it,” Sanetoshi declared offhandedly.
“So what? I don’t need romance,” she shot back flatly. But as soon as the words left her lips, terror set in. It felt like she could hear love slowly infecting her heart like a virus.
From Himari’s point of view, it would be far too greedy to try to fall in love with someone when she was so deeply lacking as a person. That greed, in turn, would cause problems for Kanba and Shoma. She already required a ton of support, and a tremendous amount of sacrifice, just to make it through each day; she couldn’t possibly ask for more. Thus, she had given up on romance…but she still spent every day pining.
“I see.” Sanetoshi quietly returned to his chair and crossed his legs. “So you reject romance.”
The room fell silent. Himari snuck a glance at him, then hesitantly began to speak.
“Hypothetically speaking…”
I’m just curious, that’s all, she reassured herself.
“Yes?”
“If the other person starts to pull away from me, am I supposed to chase them? And that’s how romance starts?”
“Sometimes, yes,” he answered slowly.
“Are you sure? Because if they’re just going to keep running away the whole time, I can’t imagine my efforts would…bear fruit.”
She couldn’t explain why, but she got the sense that those who ran would simply keep running forever. There was really no point in chasing them—they would fade into the distance until eventually they vanished from sight altogether. And if no amount of chasing would bring them back, then that energy was better off conserved. Both sides of this hypothetical romance were better off staying right where they were and keeping their “fruit” to themselves.
“A keen observation. Yes, the one who runs will never give anything to the one who chases. They don’t want the game to be too easy, after all. They want you to keep chasing,” Sanetoshi smirked.
“That’s not very nice.”
Was romance really just a game? Himari didn’t think so at all, but at the same time, she had never consciously experienced it for herself, so she didn’t have any ground to stand on in this debate. After all, she was only now starting to recognize that sort of love.
“When it comes down to it, you want the fruit. It’s not enough just to kiss them, right?” The chair creaked as he rose to his feet. Then he leaned right into Himari’s face, peering into her big, round eyes from above.
“Well, I only have so many kisses to give. So if there’s no fruit behind it, I’m going to end up empty,” she sighed. Her gaze was firm as she stared back at him, but her voice was several degrees more feeble.
“Is there something wrong with being empty?” he whispered, leaning closer. His glowing hair tickled her pale cheek.
“When something’s empty, it gets thrown away,” she explained, looking up at him.
“So what if you get thrown away? You can strike back with a hundred more kisses.”
Slowly, his lips drew close to hers.
“No, I can’t. If I get thrown away, my heart will turn to ice, and I’ll suffocate,” she replied unflinchingly.
“Then just be careful not to kiss quite that much,” Sanetoshi grinned, enjoying her defiant stubbornness.
“That’s cheating.” Himari’s long lashes trembled, sparkling like they were damp.
“Nothing wrong with cheating if it means you can kiss.”
He straightened up, running a hand through his hair. Meanwhile, she stared at the floor in contemplation. As he gazed at her, he rubbed his thumb over his lower lip. Personally, he didn’t care one whit about kissing, or whether it counted as cheating. All that mattered to him was acquiring that fruit, regardless of the means.