Chapter 3: Abnormal ★ Adachi

Chapter 3:
Abnormal ★ Adachi

 

“MY NAME IS Shima-chan, and when I grow up, I’m gonna get real big!”

That was what I always used to tell people when I was little. It was my dream, I guess. Back then, all the other kids called me Shima-chan, and I loved it so much, I started referring to myself like that, too. Looking back, it was totally cringey.

Anyway, back on topic. At some point during the later years of preschool, they asked us all what we wanted to be when we grew up, and that was my answer. I don’t remember what I meant by “big,” either. Maybe I wanted to be really tall.

How did I see the world back then?

Everything was so far above me—the sky, the grown-ups, all of it. I could run at full speed without needing to

stop and catch my breath, and I always made a beeline for anything that caught my interest. If something made me feel bad, all I needed was to eat some candy, and my worries would melt away with the sugar. Back then, I never got bogged down in the intricacies of complicated social interactions. Either we were friends or we weren’t—end of story.

Hard to believe I ever used to follow my heart and wear my emotions on my sleeve, but here we are.

 

***

 

Adachi was acting strange lately. I mean, sure, she’d always been a little odd at times, but this was a bird of an entirely different feather.

For starters, I caught her looking at me more often. I’d feel someone’s gaze on me in the middle of class, look over, and sure enough, our eyes would meet. Then she’d hastily stare down at her desk and open her textbook. You’d think she would’ve opened it at the start of the lecture, but whatever. Anyway, that was Weird Thing #1.

Weird Thing #2: Whenever we talked, she’d start shaking. Her bottom lip would tremble, and her shoulders would get all jittery, almost like she was struggling to endure something…or hold something in. Seriously, you’d think her lips would get sore from that after a while. Wait—no you wouldn’t. That would be stupid. Never mind.

Weird Thing #3: She scored higher than me on our English final. Guess I know who to ask if I ever need an interpreter. (That’s a joke.)

If I had to guess, there was probably something on her mind—something she wanted to say or ask. Knowing that, I could always throw her a bone by asking her flat-out, but…part of me was scared I wouldn’t like what came next. She had to be hesitating for a reason, after all.

Instead, I continued to watch and wait…but after three days, it was impossible to keep pretending not to see it. So I decided I would talk to her about it at lunch after class let out. Maybe it would turn out that my brain had hyped it up to be a lot more serious than it actually was. It felt like that was usually the case—not that I’d tallied up the statistics or anything.

So I decided that was what I would tell myself.

 

***

 

Once history class was over, the mood in the room softened significantly. We’d handed in our exams and answer sheets, and now the rest was out of our hands. All that remained was the closing ceremony, and then winter break would be upon us. This was the tiny lantern light at the end of the dark, chilly tunnel, and spirits were high.

Some people were laughing about how they’d bombed the test, while others were gushing about their Christmas plans with their special someone. Christmas, huh… In just ten days, we were due for another visit from everyone’s favorite jolly old man.

My sister still seemed to believe he existed, and so she would inevitably get another gift from him. I, however, would receive nothing. Then my sister would gloat about how I was on “Santa’s naughty list.” This happened every year without fail. Personally, I liked to think I was actually really nice for letting her off easy without any retaliation, but I digress.

I tucked my textbook back into my bag, then took out my wallet and rose to my feet. I could see Hino and Nagafuji opening their bento boxes out of the corner of my eye, but I ignored them and headed over to Adachi, who sat staring into space, her chin propped up on her elbow.

She was so lost in thought, she didn’t even notice me approaching. This struck me as the perfect opportunity. I moved around behind her, then leaned down and rested my chin on her scalp. The next thing I knew, she bolted upright, slamming her skull into my jaw.

She was so startled, she tumbled to the floor. Pushing herself up with one hand, she whirled around to look up at me. Holding my chin, I met her gaze, tears welling in my eyes from the pain of having bitten my tongue.

“Oh, it’s just you. That scared me…” She clutched at her chest and heaved a sigh of relief…except she didn’t look very relieved at all. Her eyes kept darting around nervously. “What’d you do that for?”

“I was just messing with you! Agh…that hurt…”

You’d think I would’ve learned my lesson after my sister did the same thing to me just the other day, but apparently not. I helped her to her feet, only to find that her dramatic reaction had drawn everyone’s attention right to us. She noticed this, too, and shifted awkwardly. Since this was obviously at least partially my fault, I decided I would escort her out of here. Leading her by the hand, I dragged her out into the hallway.

“What? Wh-what is it?”

Her gaze wandered, and her cheeks seemed flushed—probably from the sudden scare. I let go of her hand and clapped her on the shoulder. “Deep breaths.”

Leaning against the wall, she did as I suggested, her chest rising and falling as she inhaled and exhaled. But her gaze was still flitting around, so evidently it wasn’t having the desired effect on her. I decided to give her a few more minutes.

With each breath, her face seemed to burn brighter and brighter. Was it fanning the fire in there? That’d be pretty cool.

The longer we stood there with my hand on her shoulder, the more noticeable it became just how much taller she was compared to me. I’d known this for a while, of course, but part of me was hoping I’d close the gap over time. Not that I felt threatened and wanted to compete with her or anything like that. It just felt weird to have this much taller girl calling me onee-chan and asking me to pet her. Seriously, our whole friendship was so bizarre.

Since the deep breathing didn’t seem to be helping her, I pulled my hand away and casually contemplated some other way to calm her down. But before I could think of anything, Adachi’s panic seemed to abate. Her gaze stopped wandering, and the blush faded from her cheeks. There we go. Now we could finally have a conversation.

If only I hadn’t spooked her, we wouldn’t have wasted all this time, but oh well.

“Hey there, Ada-cheechee,” I said, putting on my best Hino impression to lighten the mood.

“Can’t you just call me by my name?” she grumbled, and I seemed to remember her making this request of me in the past, too. Or maybe not.

“Relax. I’m probably not going to make a habit of it. Anyway…”

I started to invite her to lunch, but then I thought about the current state of my tongue and thought better of it. I’d already suffered enough. In my mind, I could hear my mom’s voice: That’s what you get for messing around!

My mouth still tasted of copper, and I got the feeling this “extra seasoning” wouldn’t improve the flavor of my lunch.

“I was just wondering what’s going on with you lately.”

“What do you mean?”

Instead of beating around the bush, I decided to cut to the chase. “Well, um…you seem to be looking at me an awful lot.”

She averted her gaze. Her expression didn’t shift a fraction, but her eyes gave it all away. “Do I really?”

“Yes, you do,” I insisted.

I circled around and positioned myself within her line of sight. Startled, she turned in the opposite direction, so I moved again. This process repeated for a good three or so times before I gave up and moved on to my next question.

“Is there something you’d like to say to me?”

Her tightly pursed lips twitched stiffly. “Well…maybe…”

“Out with it, then.”

I was dying to get this over with. My best guess was that she had a bone to pick with me—in which case it didn’t really make sense that I was encouraging her to complain to me, but whatever.

Then she startled to mumble to herself. I can’t hear you! Speak up!

“It’s just, um…I was thinking…maybe sometime this winter…like, next week…or more like…ten days from now…um…”

Fidgeting, she rambled under her breath. Then she stopped to cough, and pounded herself hard on the chest, almost like the words were stuck in her throat. The girl was a total mess, reminiscent of a flustered little chicken who needed to get a running start before achieving liftoff. Except chickens couldn’t actually fly. Sad.

She turned to face me, her gaze pointed in an entirely different direction, and announced, “I just need a little more courage—I mean, time to think it through. Then I’ll say it.”

“…Okay.”

Apparently those words in her throat weren’t getting unstuck anytime soon. Oh well, I guess. Now I was starting to get kind of worried. What if whatever she had to say was really heartbreaking? Then again, was my heart even fragile enough to break?

Then she started shuffling her feet like she wanted to get going, so I stepped out of her way, and sure enough, she walked—no, jogged—right back into the classroom. Belatedly, I noticed the chill in the hallway and shivered slightly. This shook something loose in my mind—a fuzzy little memory of brighter days.

That was the moment I remembered an old friend I used to have.

 

***

 

In preschool, back when I was pure and innocent, I had this one really close friend. Put simply, she was a lot like Adachi—and no, this isn’t the setup to a big reveal where it turns out she was Adachi. For one thing, her name was different, and for another thing, there was no star-crossed destiny that brought me and Adachi together.

In those days, I was ridiculously proactive and completely unguarded. The word “wait” didn’t exist in my vocabulary. My friend, on the other hand, would always follow along right behind me—always behind me, never beside me—like she was my shadow. Looking back, maybe she was trying to hide back there. She was really shy, and on the first day of preschool, I remember seeing her near the front gates, clinging to her mother and sobbing.

As I passed by, I stopped and walked right up to her for some reason. Then I took her by the hand and led her to the shoe lockers, and that’s how we first met. These days, though, I’d probably walk right on by without a second glance.

Then I introduced myself, and she started calling me “Shima-chan.” From there, the nickname spread around to the other kids. I can still remember the way she pouted when she found out other people were using it. That was the sort of thing that reminded me of Adachi. Then again, since I met her first, perhaps it was Adachi who reminded me of her. But these days, Adachi came to mind much more readily than she did. My preschool friend was just that: an old friend from preschool.

Back then, I loved having a little wallflower follow me around. It made me feel like an intrepid explorer leading an expedition. Stupid, I know. I was completely full of myself. To me, the neighborhood around the preschool was uncharted territory, full of traps and pitfalls we needed to avoid. A rational person might ask, why would there be traps in “uncharted” territory? Couldn’t tell you. Little me didn’t think too hard about it. All I cared about was running around the playground with my friend in tow.

My friend, however, did not enjoy running around. In fact, she downright hated it. But at the time, I was too focused on myself to notice. Looking back, I was a really selfish kid… Then again, maybe I still am. My outlook may have changed, but I still always put myself first.

My friend wasn’t the most expressive or assertive, but she did have hobbies and interests of her own. I remember she loved beads, marbles, and anything sparkly. Anytime she spotted something that fit the bill, she’d dash out from under my shadow and make a beeline right to it. Then I’d end up chasing after her instead. Part of me would always get mad at her and think, I’m sparkly too, y’know! No idea why I felt this way, but I did.

When we started elementary school, however, the two of us ended up assigned to different classes, and after that, we never saw each other again. We didn’t have a fight or anything; our friendship just couldn’t survive the distance. In my case, I quickly forgot about her.

Years later, I heard through the grapevine that she’d turned into a total delinquent in junior high. Not some wannabe like me or Adachi—a real, bona fide delinquent. We’d long since gone our separate ways, of course, but I couldn’t help but be a tiny bit curious…

What sort of sparkle caught your eye, the day your path branched off from mine?

 

***

 

“Mehhhh…”

Collapsed on the kitchen table, I wrestled with my drowsiness.

“I sure don’t see any wrestling,” my mother commented, prodding my head. Reluctantly, I sat up straight.

Winter made it impossibly difficult for me to wake up in the mornings. Maybe my body wants to hibernate, I thought to myself as I shivered. Fortunately the heater was on, but every now and then a gust of cold air would weasel its way under my PJs.

My cheek had left an imprint on the table. Idly, I erased it with my finger, and before I’d finished, breakfast was ready: miso stir-fry with pollock roe, konnyaku noodles, and bell peppers—leftovers from last night’s dinner—plus some seasoned rice on the side. My father was worried that he would gain some weight over the winter holidays, so our meals had gotten healthier lately as a preventative measure.

The only person in our family who complained about it was my sister, since she was still a child and didn’t understand diet culture. She had long since finished her food; now she was brushing her teeth in the bathroom. Apparently, her class was going to run a marathon first thing that morning. The mere thought exhausted me. Frankly, she deserved an award for putting up with that nonsense.

“Look at her, ready for school and everything… Such a good girl… I’m proud…”

“Quit chewing your cud and hurry up so I can take your plate!”

My mother tapped the dishwasher impatiently. When I was little, it was always “slow down and chew your food before you swallow,” but now this? Make up your mind. You’re sending your child mixed messages.

Then my sister peeked into the kitchen, wearing her bright yellow elementary school hat. “I’m going to school, Mom!”

“All right, sweetheart. Be safe,” my mother replied. Then she turned and smirked at me. “You run along too, Nee-chan.”

“Ugh, shut up. I’m not a kid—I don’t have to be there until after sunrise.”

“Says who? You can pretend you’re in college all you want, missy, but you’ve still got three more years to go.”

She gave me another prod. Ultimately my epic comeback only backfired, and now my sister was laughing at me.

After she left, my mother took a seat across the table from me and groaned down at her grocery list. In order to plan what to buy at the store, she first had to plan out all of our meals. This was the part she was struggling with. She set down her ballpoint pen and let out a sigh.

“Meal planning is so much work. I hate having to do it every single day.”

“Yeah, I bet. Good luck with that.”

“Anything specific you want to have for dinner?”

Even if I answered this question, I knew my chances of it actually happening were slim. My mother liked to wander around the grocery store and change her meal plans on a whim, hence I didn’t bother actually getting my hopes up for anything.

“Just stick to curry or whatever.”

“Hmmm…maybe I could grab something from the butcher’s shop?”

“Sure. Knock yourself out.”

This conversation was a waste of my time. By “butcher’s shop,” I assume she meant Nagafuji’s Meats. Supposedly Nagafuji had to work the counter there from time to time… No idea if she was actually good at her job, though.

Suddenly, my sister came rushing back inside. Did she forget her lunch bag?

“Nee-chan! Nee-chan!”

Apparently not. She dashed into the kitchen and looked at me. She couldn’t have been outside for more than five minutes, and yet her nose was already reddened from the chilly winter air.

“Your friend’s here!”

“What?”

How many years had it been since I last heard those words? The concept was so alien to me, I struggled to process it. Instead, I chewed on it for a bit.

“My friend?” I repeated. For a split-second I contemplated asking her one of two potential follow-up questions, and in my panic, I chose the weirder of the two: “Where at?”

“Outside!” She pointed to the front door. Duh, of course they’re outside. Probably right out front.

“Who is it?”

“That one girl who came over that one time.”

“…Adachi?”

What would Adachi be doing at my house before school? There’s no way she could’ve wandered here by accident, right? She’s not that ditzy. Regardless of her reasons, I knew she had to be waiting for me, so I decided to go see for myself. I left my dishes on the table, rose from my chair, and walked out of the kitchen. My sister followed along after me.

I’d forgotten to put my slippers back on, which meant I had to walk on icy hardwood with my bare feet. The warmth from the kitchen all but evaporated, and I could practically hear my breath freezing solid in mid-air. Worse, it clung to my face and made me even colder, a thing I didn’t know was possible.

“Aagaaahhh,” I groaned under my breath, wrapping one arm around myself for warmth as I opened the door and stepped outside. Sure enough, Adachi was there, standing astride her blue bicycle like she was here to pick me up. She was wearing her uniform, and her bookbag was in the front basket. When she noticed me, she awkwardly waddled forward with the bike.

In the mornings, our street was always “chock-full of little brats,” as my parents put it, and today was no exception. Out on the sidewalk, a handful of grade-schoolers were passing by on their way to school. Gripping the handlebars, Adachi shuffled along with her bike, taking care to give them as much space as possible. She stared mostly at the ground, shooting the occasional furtive glance in my direction.

“Well, it doesn’t appear to be an emergency… Wonder what she wants,” I mused aloud. Then I turned to find my sister watching from a safe distance behind me, so I gestured for her to run along to school.

She walked forward reluctantly, glancing back at me multiple times, until she eventually reached the sidewalk. There, with a final parting wave, she joined the crowd of grade-schoolers and vanished down the street.

I waved back at her, and after she was gone, I waved next at my other “little sister.” She continued to slowly work her way towards me until we were just a few feet apart. Then I noticed that her hand was raised. Did she wave to my sister, too? Classic Adachi.

“Hey there, Adachi.”

“Uh…’sup, dude?”

“Why do you sound like a surfer…?” Maybe that was her idea of what a cool person sounded like.

It was my first time meeting up with her this early in the morning, which made for a fun change. Her hair was neatly brushed, and her uniform was picture-perfect. In contrast, I was rocking pajamas and a massive case of bedhead. Eh, who cares, I thought, rubbing my eyes. I could do what she did to me and make her wait outside for fifteen minutes while I got dressed, but in winter, that’d be downright cruel. Still, I got the feeling Adachi would’ve done it to me no matter the season.

“So, what’s up? Aren’t you a little early this morning? Wait…what time did you get here?” I asked, dumping all my questions on her at once.

Exhaling a little puff of white fog, Adachi looked away. “One, I wanted to talk to you; two, this isn’t all that early to me; and three, just now,” she responded in order.

You could tell she was the responsible type deep down—after all, she always answered my questions, even weird ones like when I asked her about sit-ups. Was she telling the truth about the last one, though…?

“Hmmm…”

I reached out and cupped her cheek. Startled, she flinched, and her eyes widened reflexively. This, in turn, startled me right back. Regardless, I turned my attention to the temperature of her skin, which was much, much colder than my hand—probably from the wind chill during her ride over. Her nose and cheeks were so red, you’d think she was smuggling tomatoes in there.

Ultimately, there were parts of the human body that simply couldn’t be shielded from the cold. Plus, I was cold, too. So I grabbed her by the wrist.

“It’s freezing out here. Let’s talk inside.”

“W-wait!”

I pulled her off her bike, leaned it up against the interior wall of the garage, then dragged her into the house. At first she seemed confused and resistant, but this quickly faded, and once we were inside, she took her shoes off by the door. Once we reached the hallway, I wasn’t sure where to take her…but then I remembered that I hadn’t finished my breakfast.

“Uh…thanks for having me,” Adachi muttered in a feeble voice.

“No problem. Come on in,” I replied casually as we entered the kitchen. “I’m back!” I called to my mom, who sat collapsed in her chair with her legs splayed out.

“That was fast… Oh, you’ve brought your friend!” Now that she had an audience, she leapt to attention.

Adachi inclined her head in greeting. “Sorry for the intrusion.”

“Don’t be! Come on in!” my mother exclaimed, echoing my earlier sentiment. Ugh, don’t copy me.

I closed the door behind us, then returned to my seat at the dining table. Meanwhile, Adachi hovered timidly near the entrance. I gestured to the chair where my sister had been sitting. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

“Sure,” she replied as she took me up on my suggestion, setting her bookbag down next to her on the floor.

Adachi was now sitting at my kitchen table. It felt so wrong. She looked really uncomfortable, too. The only one having a good time right now was my mother.

“Say, Adachi-chan, could you help my daughter finish her food? She chews like a cow.”

“Ugh! Don’t embarrass me!” Eager to rush off to my room as quickly as possible, I stuffed my mouth full of bell peppers and rice.

“Oh, no, I already had breakfast,” Adachi replied politely. Just ignore her, Adachi!

“Right, of course. I should have guessed. What did you have? Anything good?” my mother continued, leaning forward in her chair. Why do you care, Mom? Clearly she was just messing around, but Adachi looked like she was a little freaked out.

“Bread,” Adachi answered as she loosened her scarf.

What, like a slice of toast? Or maybe she means one of those little round buns? Either way, that was a ridiculously small breakfast. Knowing her, she washed it down with nothing but plain water, too.

What are you, a plant? Do you get all your nutrition from photosynthesis? Well, at least that way you can save money on food, I guess.

Come to think of it, now that I was actually going to class like a good kid, surely I’d earned the privilege of having Mom make lunch for me again. My bento box was practically gathering dust up there on the shelf.

“Doesn’t anyone tell you you’re not getting enough to eat? Surely your mother does, at least. I know it’s normal for a young lady to count her calories, but the less you eat, the more we moms start to worry. If anything, a little pudge lets us know you’re healthy!”

For some reason my mother glanced at me as she said this. Was she suggesting she was worried about my calorie intake, or was she suggesting I had “a little pudge”? Should I be offended? I was tempted to ask, but my mouth was full of food.

Adachi snuck a glance at my stomach—I saw that, thank you very much!—then muttered, “No, she doesn’t. She’s hardly ever home, so we don’t really talk.”

Fortunately, even my mother could take a hint. “Oh, I see.” She sat back in her chair.

Adachi’s relationship with her mother had yet to show any signs of positive change. Evidently real life wasn’t like the movies, where one deep conversation could have a dramatic ripple effect. Nor had my grades magically improved. And if we couldn’t sprout wings and take flight, then we’d just have to walk on our own two feet, even if it meant we lagged behind everyone else.

The rest of our time in the kitchen was spent in silence while I finished my food. As soon as I was done, I bolted from the room; Adachi jumped out of her chair, hastily pushed it in, then followed suit. Oh God, she really is turning into my little sister.

“You better actually go to school! No playing hooky with your friend, you hear me?” my mom called as I left.

“Yes, I know! I won’t! I’m going to school, Mom!” I shouted back at her as I headed to my bedroom. I turned back to find Adachi smiling slightly. “What’s so funny?” I demanded, even though I had a feeling I knew the answer.

“Nothing,” she replied, still smiling.

Inside my room, the curtains were wide open and sunlight was streaming in…but though it may have looked warm and inviting, it was still every bit as cold as the rest of the house. I debated whether to turn on the heater, then decided “screw it” and flipped the switch. I knew we couldn’t stick around for too much longer, and the toasty warmth would only make me even less excited to go outside, but I wanted to be a hospitable hostess for my guest.

Our futons were already folded up, so I plopped down on top of them, then tossed Adachi a yellow floor cushion. I felt a tiny hint of warmth from the ray of sunlight hitting my back, but my front side was still freezing. Restless, I bounced up and down on the futons. Adachi re-wrapped her scarf around her neck and glanced nervously around the room, almost like it was her first visit all over again. Chill.

“Soooo what did you want to talk about? Is it the thing from yesterday?” Have you finally “thought it through” or whatever?

At this, Adachi looked up, one hand adjusting her bangs. Her eyes were a little bloodshot, and her complexion was pale. Had she stayed up all night thinking about it, or what? Now I was starting to feel bad for pressuring her.

“Shimamura?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you wanna…hang out or something?” She averted her gaze.

“Uhhh…sure…?” I blinked. What? That’s it? That’s the question you’ve been agonizing over this whole time? What part of that was so stressful for you?

I was expecting something a lot worse, so this honestly kind of threw me for a loop. I mean, why not just ask me at school or over email? Why come all the way to my house to ask me in person? God, I don’t understand her anymore. Then again, I guess I never have.

“Sure, I don’t mind. When? After school, or…did you wanna skip?”

“Oh, um, actually, I didn’t mean today,” she clarified.

“Okay…?”

As I waited for her to elaborate, she sat up straight on her floor cushion, so I followed suit. Then she put her hands in her lap and started to fidget. Oh, come on. It shouldn’t be this hard for you to pick a day. What’s the matter with you? Rubbing my leg idly, I waited. Meanwhile, she stared at the floor and blushed beet red.

“I was thinking maybe…the 25th…?”

“The 25th? Of this month? Hmm…”

I was expecting her to choose a day of the week rather than a specific date, so I didn’t put two and two together at first. Instead, I was busy trying to figure out whether the 25th was a weekday or a weekend. Then I remembered what month it was, and then I remembered what “December 25th” signified. I looked at her, my eyes wide. “The 25th?”

“Yeah.” She hunched over, still staring at the floor, her face half-buried in her scarf.

“As in Christmas Day?”

“Yeah.”

She nodded timidly, sitting perfectly still like she was bracing herself. Evidently she’d chosen that day on purpose, and for a reason…but for what? Why would she invite me to hang out on Christmas? And why would she blush about it? Was she asking me on a date or something? I was baffled.

Me and Adachi, together on Christmas?

“Hmmm…”

I closed my eyes.

I needed to choose my words carefully for this one. If I asked her “what for?” I could practically see our friendship crumbling to dust right before my eyes. It would take a lot of time and effort to repair that sort of damage. And if someone were to ask me if I was willing to go that far for her…honestly, I don’t think they’d like my answer. Thus, I decided not to ask why she wanted to spend time together.

Still…wasn’t it kind of odd for two girls to spend time together on Christmas? Then again, I didn’t really get out much, so maybe not. But I could easily understand why it had taken Adachi days to work up the courage to ask me. Regardless of her intentions, a question like that was bound to come across as really forward. So what were her intentions?

I had a feeling I knew the answer…and its intensity weighed on me like a ton of bricks.

Meanwhile, Adachi hung her head like she regretted the whole thing. She didn’t seem like she was planning to go into any more detail, so apparently the ball was in my court. Oh, good grief. Well, if I can’t ask why, maybe I could ask something else.

“Where would we go?”

“I haven’t thought about it yet,” she replied hastily.

“What would we do?”

“I haven’t thought about it yet!” she blurted out so fast, I wondered if she might actually break the sound barrier. (She didn’t.) “I haven’t gotten that far yet, but…would you…be interested?”

She flicked her gaze up at me tentatively. The heater was finally running, but maybe we didn’t need it anymore; I was too tense to feel the cold, and I got the sense she might feel similarly.

I could feel the warmth from the window strengthen and weaken against my back as the sun briefly disappeared behind a cloud. Time was ticking by, and yet the whole room felt frozen.

Adachi was…

For the first time in my life, my brain faltered mid-thought.

…Maybe Adachi just wanted to spend time with someone she cared about over the holidays, you know, since her family situation kind of sucked. That’s why she came to me—because I was (probably) her only friend. Yeah, maybe that’s it.

I knew it was weird of me to feel the need to decode her behavior, but sometimes you just need a reason. And by “you,” I mean me.

I mean, how else was I meant to interpret her actions? Her blushing? Everything about it seemed to scream I love you. And that wasn’t something I would be able to brush off casually.

“Ummmm…”

Smiling stiffly, I mildly regretted ever pressing her to speak her mind. If anything, I should’ve waited until after the 25th. But hindsight is 20/20, as they say. Now I was in an awkward position, and I didn’t really know what to say.

Adachi lifted her heels slightly, like she was preparing to bolt again, and I fixed her with a look that said you better say something before you take off this time. She seemed to intuit this; faltering, she stammered out something akin to an explanation.

“Oh, uh, for the record, it’s not a huge deal or anything. I just…you know…I’d like to spend Christmas—er, the holidays—doing something fun with someone, I think… No, definitely, yeah.”

“Hmmm…”

Maybe my guess wasn’t so far off the mark, then. Maybe she really did just want someone around. Assuming she wasn’t lying, of course. But it’d be rude of me to suspect a friend of lying to my face. And in this case, it would be more convenient for me if she was telling the truth, so I was inclined to believe her. Funny how that worked.

Normally it was her family’s job to be around for her on Christmas, but as a teenager, asking for family time was super awkward. Probably even more so if your family was anything like Adachi’s. That’s why the duty had fallen to me—because she really didn’t have anyone else.

See? I’m just her only option. What a relief.

And if Adachi just wanted someone around, not necessarily me specifically, then maybe there wasn’t any harm in indulging her.

“I don’t mind as long as I can be home by dinnertime,” I decided.

Instantly, she jumped upright and looked at me. “You mean it?”

“But you have to do all the planning stuff.”

I couldn’t miss out on Christmas dinner or else my sister would get bummed out. Granted, this phase of her life would only last another two or three years at best, and then she wouldn’t even notice my absence anymore. Hell, maybe she’d stop getting excited for Christmas altogether. But for right now, at least, it was her favorite holiday—and this was a sentiment she and Adachi seemed to have in common. Yeah, that’s probably it. This interpretation made me feel much better about the whole thing.

Meanwhile, Adachi was swaying giddily from side to side, almost like she was wagging her tail. Except, you know, in this case her whole body was the tail. Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle. Her expression was looking much better, too: warm and bright, like the first few rays of sun after a long, cold winter. Our frozen time was moving once more.

In fact, her eyes were so damp with emotion, I half-wondered if she might just start weeping for joy. And the happier she got, the more I started to suspect… No, no, no. I shook the thought from my mind.

From my lofty position atop the piled futons, Adachi felt like my faithful canine companion. Breed name: the Adachi Inu. Nailed it.

Idly, my gaze wandered to the clock. We’d have to leave for school here soon, although we’d save some time if Adachi gave me another ride on the back of her bike. That said, I wasn’t sure she was in any condition to ride a bike. Would she even remember to pay attention to the traffic signals? She was practically vibrating, and her lips were curled in a goofy smile. You’d think I’d be tempted to slap some sense into her, but instead I wanted to poke those goofy lips. Weird, I know.

“Oh!” She jumped to her feet, her face flushed bright red, like she was the very personification of a volcanic eruption. “We gotta go to school!”

Here she was, trying to play the good girl while her brain could barely function. I could tell because she was pointing at my sister’s study desk the way a normal person would point at the clock.

“Oh, right. We’d better go.”

“Let’s… Let’s hurry! Time to hurry! To school!” she stammered, doing her best robot impression as she staggered stiffly down the hallway. I heard her kick her shoes on, followed by the sound of the front door whipping open. Why did she always have to dash out of my house at the speed of light? I command thee to halt! I thought to myself like I was in some Shakespearean play.

“Don’t go! Let me ride on your bike!”

And here I thought I could take it easy this morning. I turned back and peered out of my window. Sure enough, she was pedaling off at full speed like she was fleeing the scene of a crime. Standing on the pedals, too, so you knew she was serious. If I was a cop, I would’ve pulled her over in a heartbeat.

It reminded me of the last time she ran out of my house. At least this time it definitely wasn’t my fault… Then again, she hadn’t exactly done anything wrong, either. Maybe it was my fault.

Just when my room was getting nice and toasty, she had to go and leave the front door open. Slowly but surely, the warm air drifted out—a silent suggestion for me to do the same.

“Hmmm…”

I closed my eyes and mulled it over one last time…then shrugged my shoulders and let it all go.

Sure, there was no star-crossed destiny that brought me and her together, but we did have a sturdy foundation we’d been building since day one.

And so it was decided that I would spend Christmas with Adachi this year.

Not like Santa Claus was bringing anything for me anyway.