Chapter 5: Friendship and Love

Chapter 5:
Friendship and Love

F OR ALL INTENTS AND PURPOSES, I was a fairly normal person.

Sure, I had a few quirks to my personality. But overall, I had nothing special going for me. No magic powers, no sixth sense; I could only interact with what was directly in front of me. And my biggest fear was that Shimamura might change into someone I didn’t recognize while I wasn’t paying attention. The thought terrified me, so I decided the solution was to keep my eye on her as much as possible.

And that’s exactly what I did.

“Um…Adachi?” Shimamura called, smiling awkwardly.

I turned and looked at her—and accidentally bumped her shoulder. Oops . Maybe I was sitting a little too close.

She glanced around for a moment, then exhaled. “Never mind.”

Shimamura was always quick to shrug off a lot of stuff—quick to compartmentalize and accept things as they were. But unlike me, she never tripped over her own tongue.

That morning, first period was gym class. Back when I was a first-year, I could never be bothered to change into my gym clothes, so I’d just skip class altogether. These days, however, I didn’t want to let Shimamura out of my sight, so from now on, I pledged to attend every single class.

Today, all the second-years were gathered outside for a physical fitness test. They divided us into groups and made us run laps on the track, one group at a time, while everyone else sat and waited for their turn.

Shimamura was busy watching the other students run in circles, but I was busy watching her . This was my first time seeing her in a tracksuit, but somehow it didn’t change her aesthetic at all. In fact, I was starting to think she could wear just about anything and it wouldn’t matter. Right as I was searching for the words to describe said aesthetic, however, a shadow fell over us.

“Ooh, I found Ada-cheechee!”

“Cheechee!”

Hino and Nagafuji ran up to us, Hino pushing Nagafuji along like they were pretending to be a train.

“I see you switched it up this time,” Shimamura commented quietly, but I had no idea what she was referring to. “You’re looking a little damp there, Nagafuji.”

Upon further inspection, sure enough, Nagafuji’s hair was wet. She smirked and flipped her hair (although it was too short to really go anywhere). “Yeah, I’m fresh out of the tub.”

“You nearly made us late for school. I couldn’t even dry my hair all the way, thanks to you,” Hino grumbled, scowling. I could see water dripping from Nagafuji’s hair onto Hino’s scalp.

“You should see Hino’s bathtub. It’s huge !” Nagafuji boasted.

Wait…Hino’s bathtub?

Then, as if she’d read my mind, Shimamura asked, “Why would you take a bath at Hino’s house?”

“Oh, we had a sleepover last night,” Nagafuji replied offhandedly.

What?

To me, this came as something of a shock. She spent the night at Hino’s house, then went directly to school the next day? Not only that, but Hino made it sound like they took a bath together …

What?!

“Huh,” Shimamura replied, mildly disinterested. But Hino looked flustered. She hastily started steering Nagafuji away.

“We can talk about it another time. We gotta go!”

And off they went to rejoin the rest of their group.

“Never a dull moment with those two,” Shimamura commented as she watched them go. Then she turned back and gazed out at the athletic field. But I had to put all that stuff on pause for a minute to think. My brain was still processing Nagafuji and Hino’s shocking revelation.

A sleepover! Part of me was scandalized, but another part of me was inspired . I looked at Shimamura as she stared out at the track. She glanced over.

“Can…can we have one, too?” I asked.

“What?” Her eyes widened, but I kept going.

“A sleepover, I mean?”

“…Huh? At Hino’s house?”

“No, no, no!” I shook my head a dozen times. “At…at your house!”

Her face froze. Was it really such an absurd request? I could feel myself getting dizzy as I waited for her response. Then she tilted her head. “What for?”

What do you mean, what for???

“Our bathtub’s not that big.”

“That’s not…”

Not important? Really? Okay, on second thought, maybe I did care a little. But this was no time to get hung up on small details. It was way too early for that.

“…I don’t care about the size of your bathtub. I just want to sleep over.”

“Hmmmm…” Shimamura closed her eyes and pressed a finger to her forehead. “How come?”

Her question had remained functionally the same, just phrased more gently this time. Granted, I could see how it might be alarming for your friend to spontaneously suggest a sleepover, so I understood why she wasn’t very enthusiastic about it…but now that I’d put the idea out there, I couldn’t afford to walk it back. There was just no telling when the next opportunity would roll around, and the wait would be agony.

Opportunities are like ice cubes floating in the soda of life. You may think you want a lot of them, but the more you try to add in, the more watered down everything else gets.

“Because…I want to…be friends with you,” I admitted. It was a spur-of-the-moment idea, so I sincerely had no other underlying motivations. And now that I had choked out all my Shimamura-related hopes and dreams, sure enough, I was well and truly empty inside.

“Aren’t we already friends?” She looked at me wide-eyed, as if to say this is news to me, pal.

“Uhh…n-no, yeah, totally! I just…want to be better friends,” I stammered, averting my eyes. My field of vision narrowed like I was wearing a veil.

For some reason, I just couldn’t seem to keep my composure around her…and lately it was getting worse and worse. I want to be friends with you —what did that even mean ? I had no idea, and I was the one who said it!

“So we’ll be ‘better friends’ if you sleep at my house? Is that…how that works?”

Shimamura tilted her head skeptically. But the words were too heavy to take back on a whim. After all, she had a point; even I didn’t think there was any single prescribed method to deepen a friendship.

“Hmmmm…” She stared out at the athletic field, lost in thought.

Was it simply too soon for us to progress to the Hino-and-Nagafuji stage? One could argue that we needed to work on our friendship a little more first, but at the same time, I didn’t think friendship was something you were supposed to “grind,” like experience points in an RPG. If there was a checklist of quests to complete to unlock each level, then no one would ever have any problems making friends. But on the other hand, I had to admit, it did seem a little absurd to call myself her “best friend” without putting in the time. So what was I supposed to do?

If only we lived in a world where a single hug was all it took to make someone love you.

“Those two are really rubbing off on you, aren’t they?” Shimamura said suddenly, turning back to face me. And embarrassingly enough, she was completely right. I buried my chin between my knees and looked up at her.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“It’s just super obvious.”

That didn’t answer my question. Ashamed and anxious, I waited with bated breath for her to make her decision. I sat there, restless, counting the seconds. And then, finally…

“Eh, sure, why not.”

Voilà . Just like that, the magic words made all my worries disappear. I was so relieved to hear it, I collapsed forward, slamming my forehead against my kneecaps.

Later that day, after school…

“So, wanna come over at some point this weekend, or…?” Shimamura asked tentatively, checking the calendar app on her phone. I nodded instantly.

We were at the donut shop at the mall, sitting at a table by the window. As it turned out, a fun side perk of sleepover planning was that I got to use it as an excuse to hang out with her after school, too. This was already proving to be such a good idea.

“I wanna stay both nights, so…I guess the whole weekend…?”

“Two nights ? My house isn’t a ryokan, you know,” Shimamura laughed. “Unlike, say, Hino’s place.”

“Is Hino’s house really that big?”

She hasn’t spent the night there before, has she?

“According to Nagafuji, it’s a freaking mansion . I haven’t seen it for myself, though.”

Apparently not. Whew. What a relief.

Frankly, I had no interest in Hino’s mansion whatsoever. I didn’t care how big anyone’s house was; I only cared about whether Shimamura was in it.

“I’d just be sitting around at home either way, so…I figured I may as well spend the weekend with you instead,” I explained.

“What about your job?”

“I’ll still go to work, uh…from your house, I guess.”

For some reason, this made Shimamura laugh. What? What’s so funny? Other people’s laughter made me anxious, especially if I didn’t know the reason behind it.

“Let’s see here…”

She set her phone down and took a bite of her donut; likewise, I took a bite of mine. She had bought three in total—one for herself and the rest for her sister, or so I had assumed, but…wasn’t that kind of a lot for one little girl?

Then she noticed me frowning at her donuts. “I figure there’ll be a second one pestering me when I get home,” she explained with a self-deprecating laugh. “What is it with me and little sisters? I’m practically starting a collection.”

She gazed into the distance, absently wiping off her sugary fingers with a napkin. Then I realized her eyes were fixed on me. Blinking dubiously, I pointed at myself. “Am I one of them?”

“Ha ha ha!”

She laughed at me!

Her playful grin seemed to say well-spotted, genius. Normally her smile was only warm enough to get her through the social interaction, but this time I could see it in her eyes, too. It was a heartwarming sight, except…you know…she was still making fun of me.

Glaring down at the table, I ruminated on this.

Shimamura’s little sister… Shimamura Sakura… Nice alliteration, I guess.

In a way, it felt like a promotion from ordinary friendship, which was great…but at the same time, if I got too close, I had a feeling she’d start to look past me.

***

I sat cross-legged in the center of my room, gazing around and wondering what to pack first. After all, it couldn’t hurt to prepare in advance, right? And besides, I wanted to make sure I had everything I could possibly need so I could avoid any last-minute panicking. Nothing weird about that. Yep, pretty normal.

Honestly, I was just trying to distract myself from my restlessness.

Clean clothes were a must. I counted the number of times I expected to change clothes, then looked down at my splayed fingers and grimaced.

I only had two or three different “lounging at home” shirts, and worse, they were all just color variations of the same shirt. Technically I did have some other clothes—the stuff I bought in anticipation of my Christmas date with Shimamura, none of which I ended up wearing, currently gathering dust in the back of my closet. But those were winter clothes, so I couldn’t really get away with wearing them in the springtime.

I’m gonna have to go shopping again. On my memo pad, I wrote down: buy new clothes . Next, I wrote down toiletries, underwear, socks, wallet, and phone, just in case . Should I bring a blanket? I didn’t know if her house had extra sleeping supplies, but in the worst-case scenario, it was warm enough that I could probably sleep without one. Plus, it would take up too much room in my bag. I crossed it off the list.

I stared down at my memo pad. Did I forget anything? The more I wrote, the more it started to look like a vacation checklist. Was this too much? My bag was so full, you’d think I was planning to move in. I folded my arms in contemplation.

There was no point in going to Shimamura’s house just to sleep. I mean, sure, I would obviously enjoy getting to spend time with her in her natural environment, but I wouldn’t want her to get bored. I needed to plan some kind of activity for us, lest we end up sitting there in silence, like that last phone call we had.

What if I packed a game or something? Or a deck of cards? Now it was really starting to feel like a vacation. That said, I couldn’t think of any two-player card games. What about some other kind of two-player game? Shogi? Othello? I didn’t know how to play shogi, but Othello could work. In the corner of the page, I wrote Othello .

Then I looked up, and my gaze drifted to the boomerang on display on my shelf. Not that I had any plans of bringing it, but then I thought about ping-pong, and it occurred to me that maybe Shimamura preferred her activities on the physical side. Come to think of it, we went bowling at one point, too. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind going again—without the little weirdo this time. But if the whole day was spent hanging out downtown, then was there really any point in me sleeping over?

“…Of course there is.”

Wouldn’t it be fun to leave the house together? To come home together? It sounded so magical. I added bowling to my memo.

Okay, what next?

Unfortunately, that was where my momentum came to a halt. What did normal people do with their friends for fun? For a moment, I considered asking Hino or Nagafuji, but something told me they wouldn’t be of much help. After all, neither of them could really be described as “normal.” Especially Nagafuji. Whatever answer she gave, it probably wouldn’t make a lick of sense.

Man, this is complicated. I set my pen down and folded my arms again. It felt like I was trying to solve a paradox.

Knowing Shimamura, she probably wasn’t worried about it at all. Sometimes she could be so cold, it made me shiver.

Shimamura… Shimamura’s house… Just me and Shimamura…

If we really had no better options, we could always watch TV together. I could sit between her legs, like last time…and then I’d look over my shoulder, and…

I pressed both hands to the floor, hung my head, and waited for the fever to subside. Then, once I regained my composure, I folded my arms again, closed my eyes, and asked myself: would I really be able to stand my ground this time? Could I meet her gaze?

Yeah, I can do it. I won’t back down, said a voice in my head. But I knew this was easier said than done. After all, if I paused to imagine what “not backing down” would entail…

All the blood rushed to my head as something inside me came to life.

“I won’t back down!”

It was surprisingly easy to shout inside my own house when my parents weren’t home. Maybe shouting it had unlocked something in my brain. The words practically rolled off my tongue.

I couldn’t stay a coward forever. Going forward, my intention was to be more direct with Shimamura.

Once I decided I was done packing, I looked up at the clock. Now what? The day was still far from over; in fact, time seemed to pass even more slowly than it had back when I was a loner. But on the upside, I was actually looking forward to the future for a change.

My right leg jiggled impatiently as I implored the clock: Please hurry!

Then, after a beat, I remembered I needed to go clothes shopping.

***

“Jeez, how much stuff did you bring?”

This was the first thing Shimamura said to me when she answered the door. I had one bag slung over my left shoulder, one on my right shoulder, and a backpack on my back. Surely three wasn’t that many…right?

“Are you sure you’re not planning to move in?” she laughed, and I got the sense she was wondering what exactly I had brought.

After giving it a lot of thought, I decided it would be rude to rely on her family too much, so I brought my own shampoo and conditioner, plus enough food for four days so her parents wouldn’t have to cook for me, as well as a blanket. My anxiety refused to be quelled until I accounted for every little possibility, which is how I ended up with bag #2. Then, since I was planning to sleep over Sunday night and walk to school with Shimamura on Monday morning, I realized I needed to pack my textbooks and uniform, hence bag #3.

“Also, aren’t you kind of early?”

Rubbing her eyes, she squinted against the morning sun, which illuminated the post-yawn tear tracks on her cheeks. Current time: 8:00 AM.

“Oh, sorry. Were you still asleep?”

Personally, I hadn’t been able to get a wink of sleep last night. I laid there for hours. And then the next thing I knew, I was here.

“Mm-hmm. You woke me up. Oh, but I’m not mad or anything. I know you’re the super-punctual type! I’m proud of you.”

“Uhh…yeah…”

Truth be told, I actually got here at about 7:00, but I figured that was way too early, so instead I rode my bike around the neighborhood for an hour. Fortunately, since it was springtime, I could safely kill time outside without freezing to death. And since it was the weekend, there were no grade-schoolers around to give me funny looks, thank god.

Shimamura ran a hand through her disheveled bangs. “Okay, I think that’s all the questions I had,” she shrugged, now sounding fully awake. Then she smiled. “Well, come on in!”

And so, like a dog on command, I entered my owner’s house. As I took off my shoes, I glanced up—and made eye contact with Shimamura’s little sister, standing at the opposite end of the hall. She flinched. I flinched, too.

“This is my friend. Do you remember her?” Shimamura called, introducing me.

I bowed my head. “Th-thanks for having me over.”

“Hi,” said a tiny voice in reply.

I seemed to remember Shimamura telling me her sister was shy around strangers—same as me. I felt a slight kinship with her.

Then it hit me: was that why Shimamura saw me as a little sister?

Meanwhile, Little Shimamura ran off into another room—probably the kitchen.

“As usual, she’s pretending to behave herself,” Shimamura laughed as she watched her sibling disappear. Then she looked back at me. “Wanna put your stuff upstairs? It’s basically the only room that’s free.”

She pointed at the stairs, and I nearly nodded…but then I remembered: Shimamura’s room was on the first floor.

This discontentment must have shown on my face, because she tilted her head and asked, “Do you not like that room?”

“Oh, no, I’m fine with it…” My eyes (and heart) went back and forth as I debated whether to be honest with her. In the end, the words came out anyway: “I just…thought I’d be sleeping in your room.”

I’m scared of being alone at night, my brain suggested as an excuse. But if she stopped to consider my family situation, the lie would become all too obvious. She would see right through it.

“So you want to sleep in our room with us?” she asked, without being coy or beating around the bush.

If I was being honest, the answer was yes, please. I shot her a hopeful look. But Shimamura smiled sadly, like she was conflicted.

“As much as I’d love that, I don’t think my sister would be cool with it. Sorry.”

“Oh, no worries. It’s cool,” I blurted out reflexively, forcing a laugh in the hopes that it would keep the massive devastation from showing on my face. No matter how many times life showed me that I couldn’t expect to get every single thing I wanted, somehow my heart never got the memo.

First things first, Shimamura sent me upstairs to drop my stuff off…in the same room where we had previously studied together. Now that winter was over, the kotatsu table had been packed away, and in its place was a single futon, all laid out for me. I set my bags down, then plopped down cross-legged in the middle of the room and reflected on the conversation we just had.

I’d love that, she said.

“She’d love that…?”

Suddenly, the whole world felt a tiny bit brighter. Maybe I was more of a natural optimist than I realized. I took a big, cheerful lungful of air—and it was so dusty, it dried out my sinuses instantly, just like last time. Maybe I should open the curtains. I started to get up, then changed my mind and stopped halfway.

Just then, the door opened slightly, and Shimamura peeked in through the gap.

“Do you want breakfast, or did you already eat?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I packed my own food.” I dug through my blue bag and pulled out a package of breadsticks. I’d packed them near the top, so they were only slightly crushed. Perfect . “See?”

This way, my presence wouldn’t be too much of a burden on her family.

“Oh, really…”

“Yeah.”

I blinked, confused, at the awkward pause this seemed to create. Then, right as I went to open the package, Shimamura’s eyes widened. “Wait…you’re going to eat them up here?”

“Huh?”

“I was thinking maybe you’d come eat with me, like, in the kitchen? Because I’m about to have breakfast right now.”

Ohhhh . It all clicked. Yeah, that’s a much better idea.

“Oh, no, yeah, totally.”

Breadsticks in hand, I hastily got to my feet, and Shimamura laughed at me for being clueless. Story of my life.

She led me back downstairs to the kitchen, where both her sister and her mother were seated at the table.

“Come on in,” Mrs. Shimamura greeted me, using the exact same words as her daughter and nearly the exact same voice, too. “You can sit right there.”

I did as requested, while Shimamura took a seat next to her sister on a different side of the table. In a way, it felt like I was filling in for Shimamura’s dad.

“You know, this is the first time we’ve ever had a sleepover at the house!” Mrs. Shimamura remarked.

Her gaze made me shrink back, but on the inside, I was excited to be the first. Joy welled up inside me. The first!

“Too bad it’s not a study party, though. Oh, if only,” she sighed dramatically, though the grin on her face told me she wasn’t actually disappointed.

Granted, a study party would probably make more sense for students our age, since we were generally more focused on school. For a minute I was scared she was going to ask me what our plans were, since I had no idea how to answer that, but luckily she didn’t.

I glanced over to find Little Shimamura poking at her omelet and looking vaguely uncomfortable, with her shoulders hunched around her ears. The culprit? My presence. I stared down at the table and opened my package of breadsticks.

“Now, now, Adachi-chan, I made enough for you, too, you know!” Mrs. Shimamura told me as she cheerfully scooted a plate in my direction. Scrambled eggs with toast. “Or is my cooking beneath you, princess?”

“Oh, no, not at all! Thank you very much!”

I quickly set aside my breadsticks and accepted the plate. It was the first time someone had ever playfully pressured me into eating their food.

I took a tiny nibble of toast and glanced back at Little Shimamura. She, too, was nibbling. Then our eyes met, and I hastily stared down at the table. Unlike her mother, Little Shimamura didn’t seem too keen on welcoming me into the house. Honestly, the feeling was relatable. She and I were clearly cut from the same cloth.

After all, we both wanted her big sister all to ourselves.

“So tell me, Adachi-chan. I’m guessing you’re a more competent student than my daughter, is that right?” Mrs. Shimamura asked me.

I glanced at Shimamura and hesitated. “No, I, uh…”

“She’s like me, Mom,” Shimamura answered in my place.

Yeah, I’m like her. Actually, if anything, I’m probably worse.

“Really? But you seem like such a good girl! More so than this delinquent , anyway.”

“Will you shut up?” Shimamura snapped, looking uncomfortable. Then she started wolfing down her food, as if to suggest that she didn’t want to be in the room for a single moment longer than necessary. Her mother noticed this but didn’t seem to care…so I decided to vouch for her.

“If anyone’s a good girl, it’s Shimamura. She’s way, way better than me.”

It felt a little patronizing to call her a good girl , but I couldn’t think of any other way to put it. Good student ? Good person ? Nothing sounded right in my head.

“Ha ha ha! Oh, I get it! You see her as your little sister, is that it?” Mrs. Shimamura clapped her hands together in complete misunderstanding.

“No, she does not ,” Shimamura hissed, but her mother was laughing too hard to hear her. Apparently my attempt to correct the record had completely backfired.

She stuffed her toast into her mouth, let out a muffled “thanksh for breakfasht” with her cheeks puffed out, and stormed out of the kitchen. Was she mad at me? Feeling guilty, I raced through the rest of my food, chewing at lightning speed and swallowing faster than I probably should have.

“Thank you for the food, ma’am.” When was the last time I actually thanked the person who cooked for me?

At this, Mrs. Shimamura started laughing again. “You’re like two peas in a pod!”

Next, I carried my dirty plate to the sink to wash it, but she hurried after me.

“Don’t worry about it,” she told me. “Though I wish that lazy daughter of mine would take a leaf out of your book,” she added with a sigh. I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I nodded vaguely. Then I waved goodbye, left the kitchen, and chased after Shimamura.

“Are you mad?” I asked.

“Huh? About what?” She turned back to face me. Her expression was no longer sulky, and her voice was back to normal. “Oh, you mean just now? My mom’s always like that. Getting mad at her is just a waste of time.”

She laughed and waved a hand dismissively, not a trace of resentment to be seen.

To me, their mother-daughter relationship was a complicated one, and I couldn’t relate whatsoever. But part of me found it fascinating, so I did my best to try to understand it.

“Anyway, more importantly…” Shimamura stared directly into my eyes, cradling her arm and smiling faintly. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

Her voice tickled my ears as the curtain officially rose on our weekend plans. A muddled mixture of hope and panic spurred me onward.

How long had it been since I last looked forward to the weekend?

***

Wait, what the?

It was bedtime, and as I stared up at the ceiling, a question suddenly came to me:

What on earth did we do all day long?

There really wasn’t much worth mentioning. I spent the day hovering over Shimamura, just like always, except this time I got to do it for a lot longer than usual. We played Othello…then we watched TV (sitting side by side on our knees for some reason)…then I showed Shimamura everything I’d brought with me, and she laughed and shook her head at me. I was overly enthusiastic, but she was not; she simply let things happen, same as any other day.

Every now and then I’d catch her staring into space, her eyes drooping lethargically. Then she’d notice me looking at her, and a smile would slowly creep up onto her face. Her delayed reactions made some part of me seize up internally, and until I figured out what part it was, I got the feeling it would haunt me.

Long story short, it was just an ordinary day like any other.

In a sense, “just being together for no reason” was what I wanted more than anything, but another part of me had hoped that something dramatic would happen, and I still needed some time before I could bridge the gap between the two.

Had I really wasted the entire day doing nothing?

Well…if I had to say…there was this one thing that happened…

***

“Once you finish eating, get your butt in the tub. You always fall into a food coma right after dinner,” Mrs. Shimamura told her daughter at the dinner table.

“Yes, Moooom,” Shimamura replied offhandedly. Then she shot me a quick glance, like she was embarrassed that I had to witness the exchange. Normally I was the one who was constantly embarrassed, so for me, this was a fun change of pace.

After that, I was surprised to learn that Mrs. Shimamura had made enough food for me, too, without me even having to ask.

This was also the point at which I encountered Shimamura’s dad for the first time since I got there. He fixed me with a winning smile and said, “A charming young lady like you would brighten up any dinner table.” At this, Shimamura cringed, but I figured it was some kind of dad joke. Either that, or I had just discovered where his daughter got her natural charm.

After dinner, instead of retreating to her own room, Shimamura automatically followed me upstairs. The gesture warmed my heart and filled me with a strange sense of superiority—over whom, I couldn’t say, but I felt like a god.

Newly emboldened, I asked her: “Can I, um, sit between your legs?”

How had I asked this question last time around? Had I gotten a little more confident since then? Granted, I had no memory of what happened last time, so I couldn’t say for sure, but I somehow doubted I’d made any progress.

Meanwhile, Shimamura’s lips curled in a devilish smirk. “Only if you promise not to run away this time.”

Oof .

She spread her legs for me in a V-shape. Timidly, I sat down cross-legged between them, gazing at them all the while. Her legs were really beautiful; honestly, she’d probably look better in my cheongsam than I did. Now there’s something I’d like to see.

“Aren’t you going to lean up against me?” Shimamura asked, patting her chest invitingly, just like last time.

“Okay then, if you don’t mind…”

Hesitantly, I leaned back against her. My eyes flew open.

Aaaa…whaaa…eeee…!

…Times like these, I was honestly such a creep. Or maybe I was just plain stupid. My face flushed beet red as I felt…you know, her boobs…press up against my back. Now that we were in T-shirts instead of our stiff, starchy uniforms, I could feel them a lot more clearly…especially when she leaned forward to match my posture… My pulse raced and my eyes darted in all directions as I tried desperately to keep myself from babbling.

Why? Why do I always end up like this? I just couldn’t understand it. Shimamura and I were both girls. Why would I care if her boobs were pressed up against me? My hands fidgeted restlessly atop my thighs.

As I sat there and screamed internally, it wasn’t long before I heard what sounded like faint, rhythmic snoring. Was she asleep? I wanted to glance over my shoulder and check, but what if I woke her up? I froze more stiffly than ever before as I held my breath. Apparently Shimamura wasn’t kidding when she said she spent her weekends sleeping.

Then I felt her lie down onto her back on the floor, and as her warmth was replaced with cold, empty air, I felt my spirits deflate somewhat. That said, I was acting like a total freak. It’s probably for the best, I told myself, forcing myself to accept it.

So there we were, Shimamura sprawled out on the floor with her legs splayed, and me sitting criss-cross applesauce in between them. Kind of surreal. As I gazed down at her, I remembered Mrs. Shimamura’s comment from earlier and chuckled to myself. She knew her daughter all too well… Classic mom stuff.

Thinking about it, my mom was no exception, either. She at least knew me well enough to know that I was indecipherable.

Just then, the door opened, and a little head peeked in. This seemed to wake Shimamura, because I felt her legs twitch.

It was her sister, of course. She looked at us and narrowed her eyes. In her little hands was a change of clothes—pajamas, if I had to guess. Shimamura took one look at her and somehow intuited that she was going to take a shower.

“You don’t normally take your bath so early,” she commented to her younger sibling, who ignored her and walked into the room.

Then she turned her little face away and announced, “I want you to come with me, Nee-chan.”

“I beg your pardon?”

At this, Shimamura sat upright. Likewise, I wasn’t expecting this, either.

“Where did that come from? I thought you said you were too old to take a bath with me anymore.”

“We can still do it sometimes . Now come on!”

Little Shimamura took her nee-chan by the hand. Reluctantly, Shimamura pushed herself onto her feet, stooped over slightly, as Little Shimamura dragged her away. She glanced back at me. “I…uh…I’ll be back in a bit, apparently!”

And with that, she left the room. With my back support now gone, I wrapped my arms around my bent knees and rolled over onto my side like a Daruma doll.

Right before they left the room, Little Shimamura had shot me a look over her shoulder. A very pronounced scowl, to be specific. And I knew exactly what had caused that scowl and why. Thus, I couldn’t bring myself to stop them, nor could I join them. It was like she had held up a mirror, and I’d lost myself in its reflection.

So yeah, that happened.

***

The two of us were similar, right down to our faults, so it was only natural that we wouldn’t get along without some fine-tuning. And for the record, I did want to get along with her, if possible. But if that meant I had to sacrifice certain things regarding her big sister, then it wasn’t the right move, and I was only interested in making the right moves. I already screw up enough as it is, thanks.

“First she gets to take a bath with her, and then they get to sleep in the same bed… Okay, maybe not the same bed, but definitely the same room…”

I couldn’t help but feel somewhat jealous of her. After all, her status as “blood-related little sister” meant she was fully allowed to be needy and demanding, no questions asked. She was practically invincible.

I stared up into the darkness, wide awake. Tonight, the usual veil of drowsiness was nowhere to be found.

Yeah, this is gonna be a long night.

Then, as I was lying there, it belatedly occurred to me: nighttime took up more than 50 percent of each day. What was the point in me spending more than half the weekend all alone? Shimamura-wise, it just didn’t make sense. (Not that “Shimamura-wise” makes a lot of sense either, but let’s not worry about that.)

The bottom line was this: I had come here to spend time with Shimamura, and yet here I was, wasting the majority of said time being apart from her. It was defeating half the purpose. And only now, at the end of the day, had I finally put two and two together. The phrase “hindsight is 20/20” came to mind.

This was why I decided to take action while there was still time. Tomorrow was another day, after all. But this was the part I needed to change about myself. This was the part I needed to work on. And with conviction thus renewed in my heart—

“…Nnngh…”

—there was no way I was falling asleep anytime soon.

Regret set in.

I really should’ve saved this revelation for the morning instead.

***

As anyone who’s ever had a job could tell you, you don’t exactly get to pick your days off…and the next day, I was scheduled to work the lunch shift. Yes, it would eat into my time with Shimamura, but it wasn’t all bad.

“Have fun at work,” a very bed-headed Shimamura mumbled sleepily as she saw me off. Instantly, what was once an ordinary front door was now a powerful portal. Somehow it filled me with both courage and reluctance simultaneously. A slight warmth descended into my stomach.

“Um…I’ll be back soon.”

The warmth rained down on me from behind, soaking me gently.

“I…I got this!”

I raised both fists in the air. At first Shimamura’s eyes widened, but then she covered her mouth and giggled. It was rare for my jokes to actually land, so perhaps this was a sign that today was going to be a good day.

With a spring in my step, I strolled down the street. A cloudless blue sky hung above me. Yep, today’s a good day. Meanwhile, I thought about what had put that spring in my step to begin with.

Why had that little exchange felt so thrilling? Well, probably because I didn’t have the best relationship with my family. But if I put in the effort, could things be different? Part of me figured it was probably too late, but another part of me had watched the Shimamura family and come away inspired to try.

And so I arrived at work, where absolutely nothing had changed with the passing of the seasons. Same coworkers, same stupid cheongsam . But ever since Shimamura told me I looked good in it, I found I didn’t really mind wearing it anymore.

As I waited for customers to arrive, I tugged the hem down. Sure, I didn’t mind wearing the dress, but I wasn’t comfortable in it. It was hard to explain, but…even though my school uniform revealed a lot more leg, comparatively speaking, somehow it was still preferable to this cheongsam . Not sure why.

Fifteen minutes after we opened for the lunch rush, the first group of customers arrived, followed by another customer on her own. My body moved on autopilot. Preparing the oshibori towels, filling the water cups—it was all mindless busywork to me. I had no motive to keep going, but no reason to stop, either. And so it continued ad nauseum.

I set a glass of water down on the solo customer’s table. I recited my stock line: “Let me know when you’re ready to order.”

But right as I turned to leave…

“Huh?”

The girl looked up from her menu and stared at me, but not in a “ready to order” sort of way. I froze, unsure what to do. Then she smiled.

“I knew it! It is you! You’re the girl who found my strap for me!”

She hoisted her bookbag up and flipped it over to show me the little cartoon bear hanging from it. Sure enough, I recognized it as the same strap I rescued at the mall that one day…and incidentally, it was the very same strap Shimamura had as well.

Then I realized: it was the girl from the pet shop.

“That was really cool of you, by the way. Thanks again.”

“Oh, uh, no problem.”

Just then, I remembered I’d been wanting to get a matching set of…something…for me and Shimamura. Maybe we could go shopping together after I got back… Somehow it felt like I was full of good ideas today. Perhaps it was a side benefit of sleeping over at the Shimamura house. Yeah, that’s gotta be it, my brain decided optimistically.

“Oh my god , your face!”

“Huh?”

I snapped back to my senses to find the girl staring at me slack-jawed. Hastily, I pressed my face back into position with my hands. What? What’s wrong with it? Terrified, my gaze darted in all directions.

“I thought maybe you had resting bitch face, but clearly I was wrong!” she laughed, rubbing it in further.

Part of me was scared to ask, but at the same time, not knowing was far scarier. “Wh-what was wrong with it?”

“Umm…it looked kinda…melty?”

“What?”

“Like it was falling apart, like…” She tugged the bottom half of her face downwards until her mouth looked…well…melty.

“…Really?”

“Yeah.”

“…Let me know when you’re ready to order,” I choked, clinging to the last scraps of my professionalism. Then I hurried away as fast as my legs could carry me.

My ears were ringing as I grabbed a plate and started polishing. Like a mirror, it reflected my shame right back at me.

***

After work, I stood at the door to Shimamura’s house and contemplated what to say as I walked inside. I didn’t live here, so it would be weird to say “I’m home.” Granted, whenever I returned to my actual house, I never said anything at all, since no one was ever home around that timeframe. Ultimately, I decided to go with the same thing I’d said last time I entered, even if it was kind of odd to repeat.

“Thanks for having me…”

“Oh, welcome home.”

As it happened, Mrs. Shimamura was kneeling right there in the entryway, cleaning the floor. The instantaneous reply shocked me. Welcome home, she said. My throat tightened. Then she gave me a funny look, and I knew I needed to say something.

“Th-thank you very much.”

Like an idiot, I thanked her again . But she didn’t really seem to notice.

“Hougetsu’s not home at the moment. I think she said she was going shopping.”

“Oh, I see…”

For a moment, I wasn’t sure who she was talking about, but then I remembered. That was Shimamura’s first name—and what a name it was, too. It was so dignified, it was almost impossible to make it sound cute. Hougetsu-chan? Hou-chan?

“She’ll be home soon. She’s lazy, so she’ll want to get it over with as fast as possible.”

“Right…”

“She’s always been an oversleeper, right from birth. I swear, she sleeps like a koala,” Mrs. Shimamura sighed wistfully. Meanwhile, I nodded along awkwardly. Without Shimamura here, I felt extremely out of place.

Please come home now. Please, please, please.

“What’s she like at school?” Mrs. Shimamura continued.

“What do you mean?”

She looked up from scrubbing the floor. “Does she go to class?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, alright then.” She was so quick to shrug off the conversation—just like her daughter. “It must be a struggle, trying to get that lazybones to keep up with you.”

What?

“No, no, not at all. If anything, um, it’s the other way around.”

“Oh?”

“Shimamura’s always guiding me along, you know, like a…like a leash.” That was probably a weird metaphor, but I couldn’t think of anything better.

Mrs. Shimamura laughed like I was joking. “Now there’s a surprise!” Her smile was nearly identical to her daughter’s.

Just then, as if on cue, the door opened. Speak of the devil and she doth appear.

“I’m hoooome!” Shimamura called. Then she spotted me and immediately changed tack. “Oh, hey, Adachi. Welcome back.” A small paper shopping bag hung from her hand.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Then she spotted her mother in the entryway. She looked back at me. “You guys weren’t talking about me, were you?”

“Keh heh heh!” Mrs. Shimamura cackled.

Shimamura narrowed her eyes but didn’t press further. Instead, she took her shoes off.

“Hmm…” She looked down the hallway, then at the staircase. “Eh, upstairs it is.” And so she headed up the stairs.

Naturally, I followed after her. Maybe my leash metaphor was more accurate than I realized, because I felt like a puppy chasing after my owner.

Once we stepped into the study room, Shimamura let out a sigh. “Ugh. God.” Right as she started to play with her hair, however, she seemed to remember something. “Oh, that’s right!” She turned to me and smiled brightly. “Adachi, bend down for a sec!”

“Huh…? Okay…”

I crouched down as requested, and a shadow fell over my eyes as Shimamura reached out and touched my hair. What the?

“There we go.”

She had taken something out of her shopping bag and now she was affixing it to my head. Once she was all done, she took a step back to admire her handiwork.

“There! Now we have the same hairstyle.”

“Huh?”

Shimamura grabbed a hand mirror and held it up so I could see. Reflected back at me was a girl with pink cheeks—that part was nothing new—and a flower hairpin on the right side of my bangs. Sure enough, our hairstyles now matched. Was this what she went out to buy?

“Now that my hair’s almost as dark as yours, I’ve been wanting to try matching hairstyles with you, but… Hmm. I guess it’s not quite the same.”

She peered at my face so intently, I couldn’t help but stare at the floor in embarrassment. Where did this come from? Times like these, she really reminded me of her dad.

Regardless of her motive, however, I was touched that she would go out of her way to buy me a gift. It was a gesture that took effort—effort that Shimamura didn’t always want to put in—and that was why it meant so much.

As I ran a finger over this new symbol of our friendship, Shimamura looked up suddenly. “Oh, right. So, I actually bought two of those. One for you, and one for me.”

“…Huh?”

Shimamura had bought herself the same hairpin? So…we could match? Was it because I’d asked about it? She sounded pretty casual about it, so maybe she wasn’t all that invested. Or maybe she didn’t even remember me saying I wanted to match with her at all. Still…that was all it took to set off fireworks inside my brain. Glittering sparks flew in every direction, making me lightheaded. And yet at the same time, I was filled with an indescribable sense of euphoria. I trembled internally.

“Sh-Shimamura…!”

“Grrk!”

I threw myself onto her so fast, I nearly knocked her head clean off her shoulders. But I couldn’t stop myself.

“You’re just so…!”

“Hmm, this feels familiar.”

“So grape !”

Right as I attempted to profess my feelings, however, I accidentally bit my tongue.

“I’m so…grape? Yum. Is that your favorite flavor?”

The only “flavor” I could taste right now was my own blood. I composed myself, then tried again.

“You’re so great .”

Somehow my tongue was never there for me when I needed it most.

“We already did this little joke before, remember?”

“Yeah…”

I gave her one final squeeze, then let go. Shimamura was smiling, but it wasn’t a warm or gentle smile—more like she was trying desperately not to laugh. Then she put her hand to her chin and scrutinized me.

“Hmmm. Nice.”

What?

“I like that look on your face.” She was now the second person to comment on my face today. My confusion must’ve been obvious, because she continued, “It’s kinda stretched out, you know?”

No, I don’t know, actually . I couldn’t picture this at all. Stretched in what direction? And for that matter, why did everyone keep critiquing(?) my face lately? Was it really that weird-looking at all hours of the day? If so, this was news to me. Unfortunately, I had no way of checking for myself… Then again, maybe I didn’t need to. After all, Shimamura probably wouldn’t comment on it if it wasn’t true.

“…Well, whatever. Don’t worry about it.”

“You sure?”

Shimamura tilted her head curiously as I grabbed her by the shoulders and sat her down with me. Thinking about the flower in my hair warmed my heart, but at the same time I was scared my face would melt again, and I needed my expression to be serious for the request I was about to make of her.

“…What’s up, Adachi?”

Today, I had vowed to spend more of the day with Shimamura—but it was already nighttime. The sun had started to set, and naturally, it would be a long time before it rose again. And last night, I had discovered that the most important part of spending the night together…was spending the night together .

“Shimamura?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you wanna sleep together this time?” My molars throbbed painfully. My eyes stung, and I realized I was forgetting to blink again. “Just… wondering…”

Then I shrank into my shoulders like a scolded child and timidly awaited her answer.

I was constantly torn between my fear of rejection and my desperate need to get the words out at any cost. And in the tug-of-war between optimism and pessimism, optimism generally prevailed. But by no means did this mean I had defeated my own shortcomings—not by a long shot. The only winner here was Shimamura.

“Sure, I don’t mind,” she shrugged casually.

For a minute I questioned whether I was dreaming, but the pin swaying with my bangs informed me otherwise. But there was no rush of joy, no feeling of accomplishment. Somehow it didn’t even register that she’d said yes.

I mean, if it was that easy , then…then…

“I should’ve…”

“Should’ve what?”

I should’ve suggested it last night!

A whirlwind of regret whipped around me. I never imagined she would agree to it so readily… Sometimes she could be bizarrely accepting of the strangest things. Like me sitting between her legs. Was she like this with everyone? She was impossible to read, which was why I screwed up so much.

But sometimes, right when I least expected it, she would be there to catch me when I stumbled. And those moments were pure bliss.

***

That night, I scrubbed my body so thoroughly, you’d think I was trying to physically erase myself. By the end, my skin was practically raw.

“It feels like I always screw something up…”

As I sat cross-legged on my futon, burning with self-loathing and cursing my idiocy, Shimamura walked in…carrying a second futon.

Wait, what?

“Wait, what?”

Oops. Said it out loud.

“What’s up?” Shimamura asked curiously as she laid out her bedding next to mine.

In a way, it added to the “vacation” feel of the sleepover, but, uh…I kinda thought we were going to be sharing the same futon. I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud, however.

I shook my head. “Nothing.”

Clearly I was getting too greedy. I tucked my knees up to my shin in shame. Meanwhile, Shimamura flopped down onto her futon with her limbs splayed in every direction. Her skin was faintly flushed, suggesting she was fresh out of the tub herself. Did her little sister join her again? The thought made me feel almost…defeated , in a way.

Could Shimamura and I ever get to the point where we could take a bath together? How long would it take for her to feel that comfortable with me? The road ahead felt long and narrow and treacherous.

…To be clear, I didn’t want to see her naked or anything like that. Obviously. I wasn’t a creep. But my desires were complicated. While my need for physical affection was driven purely by a lack of emotional fulfillment, ultimately it was still physical… Ugh, what am I even talking about right now?

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. “So, uh, is she okay with it?”

She looked over at me without sitting up. “Is who okay with what?”

“Your sister. Is she cool with you sleeping up here?” Admittedly, I felt a little guilty for essentially stealing Shimamura away.

“Ohhhh . Yeah, she’s fine,” she replied with a knowing smile. “She’s got a little sleepover of her own going on down there.”

With who? The little blue-haired girl? Supposedly she came over to the Shimamura house all the time these days. Who even was she, anyway? No one in the Shimamura family seemed to find her odd, so I shrugged it off, but…how could she possibly have blue hair ?

Considering Little Shimamura was so buddy-buddy with her, perhaps it was proof that she was just as weird as her nee-chan.

I snuck a furtive glance at Shimamura lying unguarded on her futon. Not that I had any room to talk, but…man, she could be really odd sometimes. Maybe sharing a room with her little sister had trained her in the ways of weirdos… Was that why she saw me as a little sister?

If it really, truly made me special to her, then I could accept it. But Shimamura already had a little sister, and I couldn’t possibly compete with the real deal. I knew I couldn’t stay complacent forever…but tonight, I was going to make the most of it.

“So, uh, Shimamura…w-wanna call it a night?” I suggested, still sitting upright, without even looking at the clock.

“Already?!” Shimamura asked, surprised. “But it’s only 8!”

“Huh? Oh…you’re right…”

I checked the time, and sure enough, it was 7:50. To me, it felt like it was practically midnight. I was ready to hit the sack.

“Work really wore me out today, and I can’t stop yawning, so I guess I just figured I’m probably sleepy, so I thought it was time for bed! Oh, and we have school tomorrow, so we don’t want to oversleep!”

As I tried to argue my case, I got a bit worked up. And if I had to guess, this probably backfired on me. She gave me a funny look. “You sound like you’re wide awake.”

I slumped my shoulders. I couldn’t argue with that. And after that panic, I was actually tired now.

“That said, I could probably fall asleep just fine.” She squeezed her eyes shut, and her face relaxed.

This was quite possibly my first time bearing witness to Shimamura’s favorite hobby: sleeping. On the one hand, I was happy to learn more about her, but on the other hand…how would this information help me?

“Alright, time for bed!” she shrugged. I glanced over to find her halfway to her feet. “Not like there’s anything better to do, anyway.” With that, she reached up and grabbed the ceiling light cord. “Ready for lights out? Need to use the restroom or anything?”

“Uh…nah, I’m set…”

“Okay then, good night!” The light clicked off, and Shimamura slid under the covers.

“Good night,” I mumbled back, but I wasn’t sure she heard me.

The conversation ended there, and after a long moment, I found myself wondering: Wait…are we really going to sleep? I felt like a disembodied head, keenly conscious of everything from the neck up.

Then I laid myself down…and started rolling.

Could I excuse it away by claiming I rolled around a lot in my sleep? I seriously considered this option, but…the answer was no, probably not . I could try it, but I wouldn’t get away with it…and for a variety of reasons.

Was this the most I could reasonably expect? Was I meant to be satisfied by merely lying next to her? Obviously I couldn’t bridge these gaps immediately… The words “let’s be realistic” came to mind.

But I shook them away.

There was nothing wrong with taking a realistic approach, per se, but it was silly to throw your dreams away in pursuit of 100 percent realism. What’s the point of living, if not for your dreams? That’s not living at all—that’s just inertia.

I sat up slightly and looked over at Shimamura. She was breathing rhythmically with her eyes closed… Was she asleep already? Stealthily, I slipped out from under my blanket. Then, crawling on all fours, I carefully approached her and peered down at her from up close. Squinting through the darkness, I admired her face—beautiful and still, like a sculpture. My eyes drifted to her lips, and I felt my cheeks burn.

Oh, how dearly I wished she would invite me to cuddle.

For the record, I wasn’t planning to do anything weird . I was just looking at her. The memory of a distant dream flashed through my mind, and my heart skipped a beat. But again, I wasn’t going to do anything risky. Not without any guarantees.

See? Look at that—she opened her eyes.

Wait, what? Oh god, she opened her eyes???

For a moment, we stared at each other in the dark.

“Need something?”

Apparently my mere presence had woken her. Now she was giving me a weird look.

All I have to do is stay calm and explain. I haven’t done anything inappropriate, nor was I planning to. I’m perfectly innocent.

“I was just…wondering if you were actually asleep.”

“Uh, yeah! I’m in bed, aren’t I? Silly.” She laughed.

Right, of course. I moved to scoot back…but my hands and knees were glued to the floor.

“…Adachi?”

My body was pitching a fit and refusing to cooperate…possibly because my mind kept lingering on that uncomfortably vivid imagery. For some reason, I just couldn’t bring myself to widen the distance between us.

Three, two, one…go!

I willed myself to move. But this willpower didn’t spring up voluntarily. I had to give it a motivating kick in the rear. Useless .

I craned my neck forward…and plunged myself face-first onto Shimamura’s futon. A dull pain rose up from my flattened nose.

“What are you, a mosquito?” I heard her ask somewhere above me. But when I summoned the courage to lift my head, I found her face was a lot closer than I was expecting.

“Can we…c-cuddle?” I stammered bluntly, without beating around the bush. No more waiting around. This time, I was taking my life into my own hands.

Shimamura stared back at me, stone-faced. “Now I get it,” she murmured. What? What did she get?

But before I could panic, she pulled the blanket back invitingly. I looked at her: you sure? She rolled over onto her side, facing me, and beckoned for me to join her.

This was not a dream; the pain in my nose was proof of that. If I had a tail, I would’ve been wagging it a hundred miles a minute.

I flopped down like a dead fish and clumsily rolled under her blanket. My dry, unmoisturized skin kept catching on the fabric, and the bottom left quadrant of my body had already gone numb. But there we were, inches apart, facing each other. If I wasn’t careful, I was in danger of babbling like an idiot.

Then Shimamura smirked, and it was both so sudden and so close in proximity that it affected me even more strongly than usual.

“Wh-what?”

“My little sister did this exact same thing last night.”

“…Oh…” In the darkness, I burned with shame at the thought that I had inadvertently imitated a grade-schooler.

“And then she asked for this , too.”

Shimamura reached out and slid her arm under my head. I felt her warmth against my cheek and belatedly realized: she was letting me use her arm as a pillow.

“How’s that? Is it comfy, laying on your onee-chan’s arm?” she teased.

It was like a dream come true, and I hadn’t even had the dream yet. Was this what they called sheer ecstasy? Enraptured, I struggled to find my words.

“I think…”

“You think…?”

“I think I might cry,” I admitted weakly.

Shimamura smiled and shook her head at me, as if to say it’s not that deep . But while I may have seemed overemotional, it was actually quite the opposite. At last, I was at peace.

“I feel so relaxed. Like all my stiff muscles have finally unclenched.” And this, in turn, gave my emotions free rein over me, hence the waterworks.

“Is it really that big of a deal?” she asked. I nodded. But she didn’t seem uncomfortable with my tears. She looked at my hair. “Your hair’s still damp, you know.”

“Uh huh.” At the time, I was too panicked to be thorough…but that panic felt distant now.

“There’s something special about damp warmth that feels really nice,” she mused. As she stroked my hair, the beads of water transferred to her fingers. Little beads of contentment. “Okay, can I have my arm back now?”

“Not yet.”

I clung to her pajamas like a spoiled child. She looked down at the desperation in my fingers and let out a sigh. “How much longer do you need?”

“Just until I fall asleep,” I replied, wide-eyed.

Honestly, I didn’t feel even remotely sleepy. I didn’t need to sleep—I was already living out my wildest dreams.

“You’re hopeless , you know that?” Shimamura smirked wryly, her voice gentle and soothing. But she didn’t pull her arm away.

There we were, lying side by side, breathing faintly in the dark. Now that my eyes had adjusted, I could see everything that truly mattered to me.

“Oh, that’s right. The seating shuffle’s tomorrow,” Shimamura remarked offhandedly.

To her, this small detail was incidental at most, but to me, it came as a shock. “Wait, what?”

Shimamura looked at me in confusion for a moment, but then it seemed to click. “Ohhhh , that’s right. You were cutting class the day we found out.”

“Oh, okay.”

Makes sense… Then my eyes flew open. A seating shuffle?! Tomorrow?! I won’t even have time to pray!

“Adachi?”

I wanted to be closer to Shimamura, even if only by a single step. Or a single inch. But what if I ended up at the very front and she ended up in the very back?

“Well, uh…hopefully they let us sit this close! Right?”

For some reason, I wanted her to give me…reassurance or validation or something like that. But Shimamura laughed it off.

“I don’t know about that. I feel like it would cause a lot of problems.” She was always perfectly composed; not once had I ever seen her get flustered. “I mean, to get this close, we’d basically have to share a desk, you know?”

This came as a small, but crushing, blow. I just couldn’t accept her flippant tone.

But I must’ve let these feelings show on my face, because she looked at me and continued, “Whatever happens, happens.”

This outlook was certainly in line with Shimamura’s personality, and there was nothing wrong with it, per se. But if I let life just happen to me, I knew I’d end up alone again. So I took a good, hard look at my fears and motivations…and after a little introspection, the answer came to me right away. Regardless of how the seating shuffle turned out—

“Wanna eat lunch together tomorrow?”

—all we had to do was make our own plans. It was so simple, and yet somehow I never realized.

“Yeah, of course.”

And so Shimamura readily agreed, putting me at ease with her words…her attitude…her kindness…

“Now stop worrying and go to sleep.”

At this, my emotions crossed the finish line. How blessed I was, to be able to stop worrying on command. Knowing her, she probably had no idea about my dreams or the inner workings of my heart, but—

“Adachi,” she called softly as she closed her eyes.

—in the end, she always gave me everything I wished for.

“Sleep well.”

There was no point in resisting, so I closed my eyes, falling away from this waking dream and sinking into another.

“Sleep well…”

Shimamura .

Silently, I whispered her name.