Chapter 2: Spring and the Moon

Chapter 2:
Spring and the Moon

I N SUMMER, I always felt lethargic and sleepy. In autumn, I felt chilly and sleepy. In winter, I felt peaceful and sleepy. And in spring, well…it went without saying. In other words, my eyelids were heavy 24/7/365. Pretty wild. Was it my body’s way of trying to occupy the time I wasted by not having any hobbies?

Now that I was a second-year, I contemplated adding something new to my schedule. But I was about a year too late to join any clubs, so I figured maybe I could take a leaf out of Adachi’s book and get a part-time job. And yet…part of me hesitated.

I didn’t have a goal in mind, nor anything I was trying to save up for. And if I wasn’t going to have a use for the money, then I wasn’t exactly eager to expend my labor. That said, Adachi didn’t seem like the big spender type, either…so why did she have a job?

It was right around the time I started to contemplate taking a quick nap that someone called out to me:

“Want to eat lunch together?”

This was the second lunch break of the new school year, and suddenly I was on the receiving end of a social invitation—not from Adachi, but a group of girls gathered nearby.

“You’re Shimamura-san, right?” one of them asked.

“Yep, that’s me,” I nodded offhandedly.

For some reason, every time these new people said my name, it felt like they were referring to Shimamura Co., the clothing company, instead. Was I just paranoid?

“Care to join us?”

The girl in the middle patted the empty seat, and on reflex, I found myself glancing diagonally to the left, at Adachi’s desk. Sure enough, she was looking back at me…but then she blinked in surprise and hastily averted her gaze.

“Or do you have plans with someone?” another girl asked with an awkward smile.

“Nope, no plans,” I answered, and since I didn’t really want to rock the boat, I chose to accept their invitation. “Thanks for having me!” I grinned as I sat down with them. They applauded. Uh, what?

Then the three of them introduced themselves. They all spoke really quickly, so I couldn’t quite catch their names, but it sounded like Sancho, DeLos, and Panchos…or something like that. Two of them definitely had similar-sounding names. Way to make this complicated.

The girl who first called out to me (the one with the glasses) was Sancho; DeLos had a round face; and Panchos had bleached her hair even brighter than mine. This trio had quickly formed at the start of this year, and now I was apparently being invited to join it. Did I look like that kind of social butterfly? Considering they hadn’t rejected me outright for slacking on my hair care and letting my dark roots grow out, they clearly didn’t care too much about keeping up appearances.

Then I noticed that they all had their bento boxes out, so I rose to my feet. “Actually, I didn’t bring a lunch today. I’ll go buy something real quick.”

Then I looked over at the classroom door…and found Adachi looking at me yet again, her shoulders around her ears, like a timid little dog or cat or whatever. And for some reason, I couldn’t bear to turn a blind eye to her.

I knew she wouldn’t want to be invited, and wouldn’t join us either way, but I walked up to her regardless. Then she flinched and bolted from the classroom with a look on her face like she’d seen a ghost. I was pretty sure the two of us were both headed to the school store to buy a sandwich, and I was going to offer to walk with her, but when I stepped out into the hall, I spotted her running away in the total opposite direction. I knew I couldn’t catch up to her, even if I speed-walked. But maybe if I ran…

Conflicted, I briefly glanced back into the classroom—but when I looked back, Adachi was already gone. If I didn’t have people waiting on me, I would have been willing to wander around for a bit and search for her, but I couldn’t just leave my new lunchmates hanging. Thus, I decided I’d just talk to Adachi whenever she got back to the classroom.

For the time being, my destination was the school store. I didn’t encounter Adachi at any point along the way. Then I bought my sandwich. And when I returned to the classroom, I found an empty seat still waiting for me. Then Sancho beckoned to me, so I had no choice but to smile and sit there. I let out a bashful laugh.

“Have you guys known each other long?”

“Not at all. We just met at the start of this year,” said Panchos. She glanced at the other two for confirmation, and they nodded.

“Gotcha.”

In other words, they probably only invited me since I happened to be nearby. And as soon as there was a seating shuffle, we’d never eat lunch together again. That was probably why I didn’t make an effort to learn their actual names.

“Are you in a club or anything, Shimamura-san?” asked Panchos.

“Nope.” I shook my head. Then, since it was the polite thing to do, I asked, “What about you?”

“Technically I’m in the garage band club, but I don’t attend very often.”

“Whoa, you’re in a band? Like, with instruments?” I laughed at my own vapid response.

And so the conversation continued.

Honestly, looking back, I’m not sure it was actually all that fun. I remember chewing and sipping and swallowing, but I don’t remember what any of it tasted like. Then, right at the very end of lunch, I was finally freed—okay, I take it back. Maybe “freed” isn’t a very nice way to put it. Not like I was held there against my will. But to be completely honest, I never asked to join them, so surely I wasn’t that obligated to feel grateful about it.

It all happened so quickly. First I changed classes, and then Hino and Nagafuji disappeared, and now I had some new friend-shaped people in my life. They’d probably invite me again tomorrow, and I’d wear my fake smile and pretend to be comfortable. Another day would come and go. Just a rehash of last year, but with different faces, I thought to myself as I propped my chin on my elbow.

Then again, Hino and Nagafuji were at least more entertaining, right from day one. But now that we were in different classes, I couldn’t imagine myself going out of my way to hang out with them. At this rate, I’d probably end up focusing my energy on new friendships instead.

Looking back over my life, nothing ever seemed to last. Especially not my interpersonal relationships. After I graduated from elementary school, I went on to make new friends in junior high. But those friends didn’t follow me to high school, so I had to make friends all over again.

Was this just part of being human? Or was I bad at connecting with people? Was I just a cold-hearted monster?

The way I saw it, I was drifting down the river of fate. And as I spent time in the water, my bonds would eventually become waterlogged and break apart. They just weren’t strong enough to stay with me.

***

On Monday the following week, Adachi stopped showing up to class. While I felt like I knew what had caused it, at the same time, I couldn’t fully grasp it. All I knew was that we were barely a week into the new school year and there was already an empty desk in the classroom. It stood out like a sore thumb, and since the seating arrangement was still in alphabetical order, everyone could easily tell who was missing.

It was raining that day, and our previously scheduled track run was hastily changed to a basketball game in the gym. As we were doing our warmup exercises, I gazed up at the second-floor loft. Was Adachi up there? Then again, given the weather, it was possible she hadn’t left her house at all. But I had no way to check. Not like I could magically scan for her presence.

If she hadn’t decided to skip school today—okay, maybe I shouldn’t assume she’s skipping —if she was here right now, would she be playing basketball with the rest of us? As I caught the ball, I pictured Adachi dribbling. She was a lot better at ping-pong than I was, but when it came to basketball, I was confident I could beat her. After all, I had prior experience, whatever that was worth.

But as I passed the ball back and forth with Sancho, there was no revelatory moment in which I was praised for my “exceptional skill” or anything like that. I tried to throw the ball as perfectly as possible, hoping she would notice, but the ball simply flew back to me, cutting a lazy arc through the air. Maybe all that “experience” had lost its color and started to peel from exposure to the elements.

Every now and then, I snuck a glance up at the loft and debated whether to sneak up there to check for Adachi. Maybe she was waiting for me to come and find her. But if I wasn’t careful, I might lead a teacher straight to our hiding place, and it would be such a waste if I inadvertently put it on their radar. So instead I kept looking up there, hoping maybe Adachi would peek her head out.

“Oh, it’s Sheema!”

“Sheema!”

Hino and Nagafuji were playing on the other half-court with the rest of their class. They ran past me, Nagafuji playfully pushing Hino by the shoulders, like the world’s shortest conga line. But right when I least expected it, they circled back around and ran past me again.

“Hiya, Sheema!”

“Shee-mama!”

“I see you two are the same as ever…”

Especially Nagafuji. I could appreciate the way she simply spoke her mind without thinking too hard about it. If only Adachi could learn to let loose like her, instead of frowning all the time… Then again, I wouldn’t want her to be quite that ditzy. Maybe there was a happy medium somewhere in between.

“Is Ada-chee out sick today?”

Just because she wasn’t standing next to me, they assumed she wasn’t at school.

“Probably,” I shrugged with a grin. I started to say we’re not conjoined at the hip or anything , but decided against it. Didn’t someone say that to me a while ago? Where did I hear that?

“Gotcha, gotcha. Well, see ya!”

“Hasta la vista , lady!”

And so the train pulled out of the station, leaving me behind. I giggled to myself.

It felt like we were all being tested on our friendship skills. And while I was passing, Adachi was currently failing. This was…well…a bad thing, probably. The real world was a system built on interpersonal relationships, and as such, not everything was perfectly tailored to suit one’s convenience at all times. But while I was capable of accepting that and adapting to it, Adachi honestly wasn’t. So where would she go from here? Would she become more flexible, or…?

“That reminds me, Shimamura-san… Are you close with Adachi-san?” asked Sancho out of nowhere. For a moment it felt like she’d read my mind, and I had to struggle not to let the surprise show on my face.

Then, before I knew it, the other members of the Trio jogged over, basketballs in hand. Now I was surrounded on all sides, like a flower with three little petals. This was not comfortable for me.

“Yeah, we’re friends, I guess,” I shrugged. Best friends , according to Adachi. To be fair, I didn’t have any particular objections to that label, but…it didn’t seem like a smart move to play that card, so I kept it to myself.

“That makes sense. I saw you talking to her a lot last year. Is she sick today?”

So THAT’S why she’s asking. For a minute there, I’d thought maybe she saw us holding hands somewhere off campus. And at that point, “friends, I guess” wouldn’t really cut it… I chuckled internally.

“I haven’t heard from her, but she did seem kind of under the weather, last I saw,” I told them, since it wouldn’t be very cool of me to go around telling other people that she was skipping.

“You know, she and I went to the same junior high, but it feels like she’s changed a lot since those days!” said Panchos, the girl on my right. This piqued my interest, and I looked at her.

“Really?”

“Yeah! She still doesn’t talk to anyone in class, but she used to be more…uptight?”

She drew her arms in tightly, forming a small mountain shape with her hands. The vibe I got from it was…stiff. Awkward. In which case, that part of her really hadn’t changed at all.

“She’s still like that, if you ask me.”

“No, really, she was different back then! Like, I didn’t sense any peaceful intelligence , you know?”

“What does that even mean ?” Sancho snickered, and in turn, DeLos clapped a hand over her mouth.

At first I was equally confused, but then it started to make sense. If my interpretation was correct, she was trying to say that Adachi had softened up since then. Now that would make sense. After all, Adachi was never prickly with me; if anything, she just seemed meek and scared. She didn’t bite back—just shrank into herself. Her walls were flimsy, yet deeply rooted.

In the end, I never did check the loft. I couldn’t find it in me to swim against the tide, so instead I let it carry me away. Plus, it was nice to play basketball again. Turns out the “annoying” stuff can actually be kind of fun if you give it a chance, I thought to myself as I let the ball fly.

After gym class ended, once again, I found myself following the Trio back to the classroom. Something felt wrong, and yet my feet kept moving in time with everyone else’s, my lips curling to match theirs, even though I was only half-listening. Coldly, I felt myself transform into a streamlined machine.

We stepped out of the gymnasium, and the wind carried the rain against our backs. It wasn’t even all that strong, and yet I could feel the temperature difference spurring me along.

“Spring has sprung, I guess.”

***

When I got home, I sat around and watched my little sister goof off with Yashiro. As loud and annoying as it was, I never got tired of their antics. In fact, it was downright hilarious when you took into account the fact that my sister had only just declared that she “didn’t feel like a little kid anymore” at the start of this month when she went up a grade level. Evidently Yashiro brought out her inner child or something.

Then a sharp electronic beep rang out over their gleeful little voices, summoning me. I had dropped my bookbag off on my desk as soon as I got home, and now my phone was ringing from inside it—Adachi, I figured. But when I opened my bag and took out my phone, I turned out to be wrong. I would’ve thought it’d be one of the Trio, since I just recently exchanged contact info with them, but nope, it wasn’t them either.

It was Tarumi.

I hadn’t seen her since…what was it, February? And honestly, I was surprised she would call me again. I stepped out into the hall and picked up.

“Hello? Uh…Taru-chan?”

I’d blown the dust off that nickname last time I saw her, so I figured I’d toss it out again and see what happened. Nope, still awkward. It didn’t really roll off the tongue.

“Hey there, Shima-chan.”

Tarumi sounded a little stiff and awkward, too.

Silence.

I was going to ask her, did you need something? But then I remembered someone complaining about me always asking that, so I didn’t. So what was I supposed to say instead? What’s up?

Fortunately, I didn’t have to think about it for long before she came to my rescue.

“Would you wanna hang out again?”

“Huh?”

On second thought, this wasn’t much of a rescue at all. Now what? I already wasn’t expecting this phone call, but I really wasn’t expecting this invitation. Last time around, things were just so awkward…and it hurt. That said, it seemed to recover right at the very end. Was she hoping for more of that?

Don’t hold your breath, Taru-chan.

“C’mon, let’s hang! Look, uh…I’ll try harder this time! You know? Like, I won’t…you know…let it turn out like that again.”

She seemed to read my mind, because she blurted out a hasty disclaimer. What did she mean by “try harder”? Was she going to talk the whole time, or what? Because that sounded miserable in its own way.

“It’s not about ‘trying’ or…or…”

I was talking to someone who used to be my best friend, and yet somehow I couldn’t find the words. I just…didn’t see the need for us to go out of our way to hang out with each other. Doesn’t it kind of defeat the purpose if you have to TRY to have fun together? And yet…it didn’t feel right to shoot her down, either…

“Uhhhh…well…okay, sure. Let’s hang out or whatever.”

“Cool! How about this Saturday?”

“Oh, this weekend?” In other words, we’d potentially be spending a whole day together. “Sure, I don’t have any plans.”

“Okay. Well then… Ahem…”

“Hmm?”

I heard her clear her throat and figured something important was coming next, so I waited quietly to find out.

“Hooray!”

“…Huh?”

“I’m soooo excited! Yaaaay!”

My mind reeled. Was I still talking to the same person? I could hear her breathing stiffen on the other end of the line.

“Or not…”

“Uh…you doing okay there, Taru-chan-san?”

“Th-that was just…an example of how hard I’ll be trying!”

Cringe . Reflexively, I took a step back—directly into the wall, where I proceeded to bump my head. Ouch .

“Don’t you think that’s maybe a bit too eager?” Because I don’t know if I can tolerate that for very long, I thought to myself with a stiff smile.

“Would you prefer something more chill?”

Would I what?

“I guess I’ll have to experiment.”

And with that, she promptly ended the call. At least you’re decisive about SOMETHING, I guess. As for me, it felt like a one-sided invasion.

After the call ended, I stood there in the hallway, leaning up against the wall.

My life wasn’t exactly busy , and yet it felt like all these changes were going to keep me on my toes. And because I was forced to move at someone else’s pace, it was running me ragged.

Through the wall behind me, I could hear my sister’s innocent laughter. She was always the type to play the good girl whenever she was in public, so it was rare to see her let her guard down around someone who wasn’t family. Once upon a time, I was like that, too. And like her, I once had some great friends. But at some point, I ended up here . Not that I didn’t like my current self, but…I could only pray that my sister would never lose sight of her sincerity the same way I had.

Then my mother peered down the hallway. “What are you doing there?”

“Nothing,” I answered.

“If you say so,” she replied. “What do you want for dinner tonight?”

“Huh?”

“What kind of food would you want? We’re going to go to a restaurant.”

And you want ME to decide? In terms of food we couldn’t get at home, the options were conveyor belt sushi, Korean barbecue, and regular sushi. Oh, and…

“Okay then, uh…” I paused to think about Adachi. “Chinese.”

I didn’t choose it because I was craving it—I chose it because I knew we’d end up at the restaurant where Adachi worked part-time.

Sure, I could always call or send an email. But if that was what she wanted, she would’ve reached out by now. So instead, I’d be better off talking to her in person. Or so I figured, at least.

Sure enough, the whole family ended up at Adachi’s Chinese place. Yashiro was no longer with us, though I hadn’t noticed her leave.

“I’m looking forward to hearing more about your high school escapades,” my mother teased me as we got out of the car. Evidently she hadn’t forgotten about Adachi, either.

Somehow I don’t think she’ll be very talkative this time, I shot back silently.

Then we walked in…and she wasn’t there. Instead, a different female employee waddled up to us like a penguin. Apparently Adachi wasn’t scheduled to work tonight. Once again, this proved just how little I really knew about her.

“What a shame,” my mother muttered offhandedly when she realized Adachi wasn’t here.

I turned away…and quietly agreed.

***

On Saturday, the sky was a single flat shade of blue with a few scant clouds. That day found me standing outside the front gates of my old elementary school. At first I was confused why we wouldn’t just meet up outside the train station or something, but Tarumi insisted she was going to handle all the day’s planning, so I decided to just shut up and let her call the shots. We were supposed to meet up at 11 AM, but I ended up arriving ahead of schedule, so…now it was time to wait.

As it turned out, it took a lot less time to get here than I remembered. Probably because my legs had gotten so much longer. Heh heh heh.

For old times’ sake, I walked closer to the school building…and when I saw the expanded campus with my own two eyes for the first time, I could scarcely believe it. Obviously I’d heard about it from my little sister, but still, I couldn’t help but marvel at how much bigger it had grown. But when I walked around behind the original building, I found the same dirty old walls that were there during my own elementary school days. I could remember running around with Tarumi out here, once upon a time…but the girl in question was still nowhere to be seen.

I checked my phone. Almost time. Then I felt my stomach tense up. Admittedly part of me wasn’t feeling too optimistic about this… Funny how I never felt this way whenever I hung out with Adachi.

“These things are complicated, I guess.”

And with that, I absolved myself of any responsibility to investigate the inner workings of my own heart.

I hadn’t heard Adachi’s voice in a while now, since she never approached me in the classroom. And now she wasn’t showing up to school at all , for that matter. What was going on with her?

“Hmmm…”

Whenever I had nothing better to do, oddly enough, I frequently caught myself thinking about Adachi. Partly because I didn’t have that many friends to think about, but partly because she was just so bizarre . She left a lasting impression, whether she meant to or not. But as I was thinking back to that weird face she had made on the day of our entrance ceremony, I heard Tarumi’s voice in the distance: “Crap, you’re early!”

I looked up to find her jogging over to me, wearing a light green cardigan over a gray cotton shirt. Yep, pretty normal street clothes. Apparently Adachi was the only person I knew who would show up wearing a China dress. Not that she didn’t rock the look, of course.

And so, although the days of randoseru backpacks were long past us, the two of us reunited outside our elementary school.

“What’s with the little smirk? Something wrong with my outfit?” Tarumi asked, pulling at her clothes. Meanwhile, I touched my face. What smirk? I couldn’t really tell.

“No, nothing’s wrong. Sorry, I didn’t realize I was smirking.”

“Okay, maybe ‘smirking’ is the wrong word. Kinda seemed like you were…smiling to yourself, I guess?”

“Ohhhh.” Now that made sense. “I was just remembering this stupid face one of my friends made a while back.”

“Gotcha. I’m not late, am I?” She looked up at the round white clock embedded into the front of the school building—the same one I remembered from back in the day.

“No, I was just really early.”

“I don’t remember you being this punctual, Shima-chan.”

“What are you talking about? I’ve always been punctual!” I laughed dismissively, though it wasn’t especially funny.

“Hmmmm… Okay, well, let’s do it!”

“Huh?” Do what?

Tarumi hunched over like she was charging up for something. I cocked my head.

“WOOHOO! HEY, SHIMA-CHAN!”

“Wh-whoa…!”

The way she shouted and waved at me, you’d think we weren’t standing literally right next to each other.

“Alrighty then. Let’s get going.”

She swiftly regained her composure and turned to leave. Evidently that level of enthusiasm was hard to maintain; she had to charge up for it. Which meant I’d need to stay on guard in case she sprang it on me again later.

And so, off we went. Surprisingly, we were off to a good start. Maybe smiling was more crucial than I thought.

As we walked, I looked at Tarumi. Her hair was still ash brown, and like last time, she was wearing it in loose curls draped around her neck. In the past she used to have straight bangs, but these days her hair was poofy all over.

As our legs carried us away from the elementary school, I breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Given her antics over the phone, I was terrified she was going to propose that we screw around here at our old stomping grounds to “get in touch with our inner child” or something. And as someone with a sibling who currently attended this school, to do so would be a death sentence. If her little friends found out she was related to me, she would never speak to me again.

“Where are we going?” I asked as I followed after her.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” she answered over her shoulder. Then she pointed at my bangs. “So you dyed your hair back?”

I pinched a random strand. “Yep.”

“It looks a lot better.”

“You think so?”

Not “good,” but “better.” Everyone in my family said the same thing. The only person who called it “pretty” was my hairdresser.

Then Tarumi reached out—I figured she was going for my hair, but then she touched the hand holding said hair. Her fingers interlaced with mine. Then, as my eyes widened in surprise, she turned and started dragging me away.

“Whoa!”

Hastily, I sped forward until we were walking shoulder to shoulder…but even then, she didn’t let go. It reminded me of Adachi, except less awkward. In Adachi’s case, she was a little too…direct. And another thing—why was it that everyone seemed to want to hold hands with me? Were they trying to keep a leash on me so I wouldn’t wander away? This struck me as an absurd misunderstanding. If anything, I was the lazy homebody type.

As we walked, Tarumi glanced over at me. Then she donned a big grin. “How’s this?”

In a sense, it was even more intense than the woohoo shenanigans.

“Please just say something, would you?”

“Yeah, I was just remembering.”

“What?” Her smile held firm, but her brow furrowed in confusion. Evidently her face could multi-task. “I don’t understand what that’s supposed to mean.”

“You used to grin at me like that all the time, remember?” And I used to not care about what other people thought of me. I could feel myself smiling slightly as I spoke. “Really takes me back.”

Then Tarumi started to look me up and down.

“Hmm?”

“You know, Shima-chan, you’ve gotten really adult … No, that’s not it. Ugh, what’s the word? God, I’m so stupid.” She combed her hair to one side with her fingers as she searched for what she wanted to say. “Basically, what I’m trying to say is, you’ve really grown up.”

“I mean, you’ve grown more than I have,” I replied as she towered over me by half a head. Meanwhile, she maintained her jovial grin—didn’t react to the intonation of my voice or anything. Frankly, it was downright unnatural. “You don’t have to force yourself, you know.”

“Nah, I’m fine,” she replied, dismissing my concern with that ever-present smile.

How can she still talk with her lips fixed in that position?

“Besides, I’m only half -faking it,” she continued.

And with that, she faced forward and started walking a tiny bit faster.

***

The only sound was that of sizzling. Or maybe “hissing” was more accurate. Either way, it smelled heavenly . I leaned forward slightly, gazing down at the okonomiyaki pancake frying right before my eyes.

“Hm… hm hm… hm hm hm…”

On the other side of the table sat Tarumi. Her humming sounded painfully forced, and I smiled awkwardly.

It was her idea to come here to this okonomiyaki restaurant for lunch. It was one of those places with an iron griddle at every table—in other words, a “cook it yourself” experience. As for the actual cooking part, Tarumi had volunteered to handle it all herself because she claimed to be, and I quote, “really good at it.” And as I sat there and quietly waited to be served, sure enough, she seemed quite adept… Whether she was actually good at it remained to be seen, but she at least made herself look good at it.

Personally, my family hadn’t gone out for okonomiyaki in god knows how many years, so I was really enjoying the smell and sizzle. My body swayed from side to side in anticipation.

It was the weekend, so naturally, every other table was occupied by families with kids. As far as I could see from where we were seated, we were the only all-girl group in the restaurant. What did girls usually eat instead of okonomiyaki ? Spaghetti or something? (Yashiro was babbling on and on about spaghetti the other day, so it was fresh in my mind.)

My eyes met Tarumi’s, and she immediately flashed those pearly whites again. Granted, it was lovely to be met with a smile purely on reflex, but at the same time…

“You’re going to wear your face out doing that.”

“No way. This stuff is important…uh…I mean, isn’t it?”

She scratched her neck sheepishly. She couldn’t even finish her sentence without pausing to question it. But perhaps it was admirable that she didn’t let that uncertainty stop her from taking action. And since it would be rude to make her do all the heavy lifting, I decided to make an effort myself.

“So I heard you’re a delinquent now. Is that actually true?”

Gripping a spatula in each hand, she looked up from the okonomiyaki and met my gaze. “Nah, I just skip school a lot. If anything, I’m a slacker.”

“I see… Same as me, then.”

To the teachers and everyone else in school, showing up every day was normal. If you didn’t rigidly adhere to that, you got slapped with the delinquent label.

“But in your case, you’ve turned over a new leaf, haven’t you?” Tarumi asked as she checked the relative doneness of our pancake.

I shot her a look that said where did you hear about that?

“Your mom still calls mine from time to time. That’s how I heard about it,” she revealed, smoothing her hair as she spoke.

“Hrmmm…”

For one thing, I had no idea they still talked to each other, and for another thing, I really didn’t want that woman telling everyone my business. I contemplated warning her to knock it off, but knowing the sort of person she was, she’d find my embarrassment hilarious and start running her mouth even more to spite me.

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t. And for that matter, if you’re telling people I “turned over a new leaf,” then how about you pack me a lunch, hmm?

“Anyway, they don’t talk every single day or anything. And obviously I realize I’m not getting the full picture. So I’d rather hear about it straight from the horse’s mouth… Er, not that you’re a horse! But yeah, that was kind of my objective today. Okay, maybe not ‘objective.’ Goal, maybe? Or is that still too aggressive?” She folded her arms in contemplation.

I’d noticed this on the phone with her, too—she had the tendency to hyper-focus on her word choice. As far as I could remember, she had always been the type to shrug off those small details and just have fun.

“Anyway, my point is: tell me about you! Tell me about your school.”

Evidently that part of her hadn’t changed.

“My school? Uh, let’s see…” This time it was my turn to fold my arms in contemplation. Was there anything really worth talking about?

“Are you in any clubs or anything?” she asked.

“Nah. Although for a while I considered trying out for the basketball team.”

It was probably a safe move to start with clubs. But what is “safe,” anyway? And what exactly are we starting?

“Did you play basketball in junior high or something?”

“Yeah. I was usually on the bench, though. What about you, Taru-chan?”

This time, the name “Taru-chan” sounded natural on my tongue. Then again, maybe it didn’t count as natural if I was still self-conscious about it.

“Well, I mean, I’m a delinquent , right? Wouldn’t make sense if I was dedicating my time to wholesome, school-sanctioned club activities,” she snarked.

I giggled. Oh, so now you admit it?

“I mean, I didn’t start skipping right from day one,” Tarumi continued, carefully checking the pancake’s color from the side. “Not like I had some kind of truant rep to maintain. And I didn’t have a reason to be anywhere else.”

“Right.”

“But then I started thinking, like, what am I gonna do with the rest of my life after I graduate? Completely getting ahead of myself, I know. But the more I thought about it, the more restless I got, until I just couldn’t sit around in class anymore. I needed time to think about it. So I started walking around. Observing people around town. It’s actually a lot more fun than it sounds.”

“Right.”

“Like, oh, I wonder where that middle-aged lady is headed today. I wonder what path she took to get here. When I start thinking about it, it feels like I’m slowly tracing my way through the town. One person leads to another, and then to another…like dominoes, you know?”

“Right.”

“Before I knew it, I got addicted to it…and now I’m a ‘delinquent’ or whatever.” At this point, she seemed to snap back to her senses. She glanced at me awkwardly. “Sorry for rambling.”

“No, no, I enjoyed hearing your point of view. I never knew you felt that way.”

Plus, it was a lot less work to just sit here and listen.

“Right.” Tarumi hung her head sadly, averting her gaze. “You don’t know anything about me anymore. And I don’t know anything about you.”

“Hmm…?”

“Basically, like…I want to know more about you, Shima-chan. And I want you to know more about me.”

This conversation was way too serious for a self-proclaimed delinquent like her. But hey, at least she managed to remember to flip the okonomiyaki . If it was Adachi, our food would’ve burned black by now.

“I want to share this moment with you, ’cause like, this moment is all we have, you know?”

Every now and then, I struggled to parse the raw emotion embedded in her words. But there was something about a rough, unpolished surface that really left an impression.

Then she looked up.

“Basically, Shima-chan, what I’m saying is…”

“Yeah?”

“I might be an old friend…er, acquaintance? Whatever. My point is, like…I’m still here, I guess?”

Frustrated, Tarumi combed her hair out of her face. Meanwhile, I was waiting for a translation. Was she trying to say that…old friendships didn’t stop being friendships…?

“God, what am I talking about…?” Tarumi muttered, furrowing her brow at her own statement.

“No, it’s fine,” I replied. “I think I can see what you’re getting at.”

She waved her spatula dismissively. “Real talk, this is so embarrassing, I think I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

Honestly, if we started having a heart-to-heart or whatever, I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to handle the extreme levels of cringe, so it was probably a smart move to leave some things to the imagination.

“Kssh, kssh, kssh…”

Tarumi started “singing along” with the sizzling, possibly to hide her own shame. As I listened, a dorky chuckle escaped my lips. Man, I’d really like the food to be ready now.

Once our okonomiyaki was finished, Tarumi cut me a piece and plated it for me. Then, paying no mind to her own food, she sat and watched me take my first bite.

It was like lava on my tongue, but I didn’t want to embarrass myself while she was watching, so I swallowed it and kept a straight face as it burned all the way down. Could she see the tears in my eyes?

“How is it?”

“Oh, um…”

There was an awkward pause in which Tarumi smiled nervously.

“It’s really good.”

“I know, right?” She smirked at me as she eyed my plate, reminiscent of my mother when she served up her specialty. “You’ve always liked this kind of thing.”

“What kind of thing?”

She pointed at the okonomiyaki with her chopsticks. “Remember in Girl Scouts?”

Sure enough, a memory rose to the surface of my mind.

“Oh, right. I remember now.”

One time, in Girl Scouts, we all went out for okonomiyaki for lunch. I couldn’t remember any specific details about it, but…I must’ve talked about how much I liked it, I guess? And evidently she must have remembered that I liked to add cheese on top, too. Whoa.

“I’m impressed you still remember that.”

Frankly, I couldn’t name a single thing she liked. Did that make me a bad person?

“Of course I do. I remember everything about you,” she shrugged, scratching her cheek. I felt that first bite of food rise like a lump in my throat—so I hastily went in for another. But instead of eating, Tarumi just watched me.

“Your food’s gonna get cold, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” But she simply gazed at me, chopsticks in hand.

After we finished eating and had some tea, my stomach was feeling better, so we decided to walk around town for a while. She took my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, and I didn’t stop her; instead, I just let her lead me down Memory Lane. These were the same streets we walked as kids, except now there was a convenience store on the corner, and more intersections, and more grocery stores. But the weathered old signboard with the marble-eyed cat was still there, so that was a relief, at least. Long time no see, kitty.

“Oh, hey! There’s a store there now!” Tarumi exclaimed and pointed at a sign in the distance. This sign was wooden, and it was all wrinkled, like an old pickle. But the store itself had a rather chic exterior, with a purple and yellow color scheme. There was even a ribbon on the door. But this was perhaps unsurprising, since the sign read Fancy Goods .

“Wanna check it out?”

“Huh? Okay.”

And so Tarumi led me by the hand into its depths.

Sure enough, the interior was filled with cute little baubles, trinkets, and accessories—in other words, exactly what you’d expect a “fancy goods store” to have. But considering Tarumi had allegedly only just discovered this new store, she sure seemed to know exactly where she was going. She walked straight to the back, to the phone strap section. Then she pointed at the rack.

“Wanna get matching straps?”

“Huh? Okay.”

Upon further inspection, these straps were a little too big to hang from a cell phone. Bag straps, I guess. I didn’t have any straps on my bookbag at present, so it worked out nicely. But if we were going to get a matching pair, then we’d need to find common ground between her tastes and mine. Perhaps this wouldn’t be easy.

“Which do you like?” Tarumi asked, pointing first at a frog, then a cow, then a cat.

“Of those three, I like the cat best.”

At one point someone (not sure who) had even likened me to a cat. Probably because I liked to hang out under the kotatsu table, I guess. Adachi was definitely more of a dog, though…but what about Tarumi?

“If you wanna get the cat, then let’s do that.”

She immediately reached for the cat straps, but I cut in hastily: “What about you? We should pick something both of us like.”

“I like anything you like.” Her eyes wandered around for a moment, then back to me. “I mean, whatever you like is fine,” she corrected herself.

Was she was trying to hint that she liked me ? I could feel myself getting a little bashful. Her gaze carried a heat unlike any other, and it made it hard to breathe. Desperate to get this over with, I reached for the first thing that entered my line of sight.

“Okay then, how about this bear?”

With its oversized head and dopey smile, it was exactly the sort of thing I wouldn’t mind attaching to my bookbag.

“Oh, hey, I like that one, too,” Tarumi responded. Then, a beat later, she spread her arms out wide, like a ninja clinging to a giant octopus. “I loooove it!”

“Do you?”

“Yeah, sure. It’s cute enough,” she shrugged, and this time she seemed sincere. So I grabbed a second bear off the rack.

Just then, I noticed a man wearing a witch’s hat standing next to me, holding the same item. “Man, this little guy is adorable,” he grinned. Next to him was a man in a green hat, staring off in a different direction with a disgruntled scowl on his face. Frankly, this didn’t really strike me as the type of store a guy could visit with his best bro, but okay. Upon further inspection, I got the feeling I recognized this green hat guy from somewhere…but before I could put my finger on it, Tarumi grabbed me by the hand.

“Quick, let’s buy ’em before you change your mind!”

I’m really not that fickle, though… Nevertheless, she dragged me to the register, where we each paid for our own bear. After that, we left the store.

“Now to see if you’ll actually put it on your bookbag, am I right?” She grinned like this was some hilarious joke, but I could hear genuine concern in her voice.

“Yeah, of course I’m gonna put it on. What are you worried about?”

“Oh, no, I’m not worried,” she replied, shaking her head. But her smile was unnaturally stiff. “Knowing you, you’ll probably lose it within a week, huh?”

“Wow! Why are you roasting me like this?” She makes it sound like I’m some kind of careless bimbo who doesn’t take care of my belongings, and…that’s not…I mean…!

“Think about it, Shima-chan. You’ve never been the type to get too attached to anything,” Tarumi replied vaguely, averting her eyes. In a way, it felt like she was making a moral judgment about me…but at the same time, it also felt like she was simply stating facts.

“You really think so?”

“You know what I’m talking about. You’re…unfussy , or whatever!”

“Oh, right. Yeah…I guess so, yeah,” I nodded to myself. Admittedly, that did sound like an apt description of my personality.

As for Tarumi, however…for some reason, she seemed sad. She wouldn’t meet my gaze. Oh, but then again, I could see a lot of color in her cheeks. At least her complexion was healthy.

“I’m just worried that…you won’t take good care of it.”

Now it all clicked. At last, it made sense why she wanted to choose something I liked—because that way, I’d be more inclined to care about it.

“Okay then, I guess I’ll have to prove you wrong.” I pulled the bear out of its little plastic bag and gazed down at it. It gazed back blankly.

“You mean it?”

“You really don’t trust me, huh?”

“Well, you’re like a brick wall! You just don’t look that serious about it.”

I don’t? Confused, I ran my fingers over my face, but I couldn’t really tell where the problem was.

“But whenever I see you with that blank look on your face, I always wonder to myself…what is she thinking about? And at that point, you could say it’s both a punishment and a prize…”

At this, her face froze like she’d snapped back to her senses. Huh?

“…Or something like that, anyway.”

Then she immediately averted her eyes again, like she was embarrassed. But what was so embarrassing about what she said? I tried to think back, but she’d blurted it out so quickly, I couldn’t remember half of it. And I got the feeling no amount of ruminating would help me understand the other half.

“Seriously, don’t think too hard about it. Just ignore me.”

She shook me by the shoulders, but I didn’t resist; instead, I let my head bobble around in every direction until it made me sick to my stomach. Admittedly I knew I would be better off just shrugging it off like she was asking me to, since no amount of thinking about it would help me figure it out, but…something else had given me pause. The part where she said she couldn’t tell what I was thinking.

I had this one particular bad habit—well, then again, maybe everyone was like this to some extent—crap, there I go again. Anyway, I had the tendency to treat my views as the “default,” which was probably part of the reason why I never really took an interest in the people around me. After all, I just assumed they were all the same as me, so what was the point of learning about them?

But for the most part, I was wrong. Most people weren’t like me at all. Take Tarumi, for example—we’d spent all that time together, and yet her outlook was nothing like mine. There was a firm line between us, and it felt fresh and interesting to stop and examine it. Once again, if it wasn’t for this other person in my life, I never would have realized.

We were best friends in elementary school, estranged in junior high, then reunited in high school. We had followed the same path, and yet we turned out completely different. Being human sure is wild.

But would I cross that dividing line to get a closer look at her true self? That was a different story altogether.

After that we wandered around for a while, and I told her the story of when I played with a boomerang at the park, and then I was home again before 3 PM. She walked me all the way there, just like when we were kids.

“Would you wanna do this again sometime?” she asked before we parted ways, her face turned away. Was she feeling bashful, or what?

“Yeah, sure.”

Meeting her had opened my eyes to a lot of new things. Besides, she was my friend. What reason did I have to say no?

She whipped her head back in my direction, her bangs fluttering through the air from the momentum. And that same momentum carried her in my direction. Reminds me of Adachi, I thought to myself, and before I could finish comparing the two, she took my hand in hers. The way she slid her fingers between mine made my skin tingle.

“Let’s be friends again, Shima-chan,” she declared, raising our hands up to eye level. And judging from the heat radiating from her palm, I could tell she’d been meaning to say this to me all day.

Real life didn’t work like it did in manga, where interpersonal relationships could coast along unspoken in the background. A friendship was like a driver’s license—you had to get it renewed every now and then. Not that I knew from experience, obviously.

“Okay.”

That was my answer to her passionate proposal. And yet…my gaze flickered to our joined hands. The way this conversation was framed, it felt like she was after something more than just friendship…or was I just overthinking things?

She didn’t seem to want to let go, and I couldn’t shake her off, so instead I just stood there, perplexed. Minutes ticked by. Our palms were starting to sweat like summer had come early, and the weird silence was really freaking me out—

“Oh, it’s Shimamura-san,” a voice called offhandedly.

Instantly Tarumi straightened up and whipped her hand away, hiding it behind her back. This made me feel like we’d been caught doing something inappropriate, and I stared at the ground. Nevertheless, our intruder barged right in and grinned up at me. It was Yashiro, of course. Probably here to hang out with my sister.

But Tarumi didn’t let the introduction of a mysterious child rattle her. It was impressive just how unruffled she was, actually—she didn’t even look at her. As I stared in surprise, she blurted out a quick “see you” and hurried away. And as she disappeared down the street, I saw the shadow of Adachi in that retreating figure.

The two of them resembled each other—not in their looks, but in their behavior. Perhaps that was why they were both so aggressive in their friendships with me. Whenever I spent time with one or the other, it felt like they were constantly shaking me by the shoulders, jerking me around in all directions.

As I heaved a sigh, Yashiro tilted her head up at me as she clung to my leg. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m just tired.”

Whether it was genuine or forced, Tarumi’s enthusiasm was exhausting to be around for long periods of time. When we were kids, though, I managed to keep up with her just fine… Maybe I was the weirdo in this scenario.

“Who am I, really?”

I was on the cusp of falling down the rabbit hole of introspection…but then I caught sight of Yashiro hopping up and down, and her bright blue hair caused other questions to plug that hole right back up again. Was I really that deep of a person? Compared to an enigma like Yashiro, the answer was decidedly no . And so I was successfully spared from shallow self-searching.

“Sometimes I really appreciate you, you know that?”

“As well you should!”

I grabbed her by the waist, picked her up, and swung her around. She weighed practically nothing, so it was barely even a workout.

“Are you here to see my sister?”

“I’m here for both of you, of course!”

“Aww, how sweet. Thanks.”

This was me: the girl standing here, living, breathing. And with that conclusion, I went on my merry way.

Incidentally, I later received three emails from Tarumi, thanking me for hanging out with her. This, too, was reminiscent of Adachi.

***

Two weeks into the first semester, the seating arrangement still had yet to be shuffled. Apparently it was scheduled for the end of April.

Keeping with my new routine, I went to the school store, bought my lunch, and ate it with the Trio. I was starting to fit in with them, and as their conversations flew in one ear and out the other, I maintained a smile.

I was a second-year now, and this was my new life. In fact, I was starting to think maybe I’d gotten used to it faster than I thought I would. But then someone else called for me that day at lunch.

“Shimamura.”

This was the third unexpected invitation I had received in April, following Sancho and Taru-chan. Third time’s the charm, as they say.

I looked in the direction of the voice…and this time, it was actually Adachi.