Chapter Twelve

Proof of Friendship

It was the day after Chiaki and Hinami had paid Asahi a visit. It was a day just like any other—Asahi went about his regular routine while doing his best to avoid the obnoxious couple as much as he could. Once evening arrived, there came the usual ringing of the intercom.

“Sorry for barging in,” she apologized in her standard monotonous voice as she entered the apartment. Asahi was concerned about how her mood would be given his earlier comment about her being “just another neighbor,” but his anxiety appeared to be unfounded.

I’m so stupid for worrying about so much, but whatever, he mentally told himself off as he recollected himself and focused on the task at hand.

“Apologies for always being such a bother...” Fuyuka apologized.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I mean, we both agreed to this, remember?”

“Indeed,” she agreed after a brief pause.

Although Asahi tried to make her feel at ease through his trademark banter, he was beginning to grow uneasy himself. Why wouldn’t he, seeing as this had been the fifth time they’d had this particular conversation that day alone?

Asahi was used to seeing her make mistakes—and reacting deftly to them—when cooking. A blunder or two was well within reason when she stood in front of the kitchen counter, and she would never fail to be frustrated with herself. Still, that day had been particularly disastrous. Fuyuka had confused sugar for salt, completely butchered her knife-holding technique, spilled some oil on the floor, and—just when Asahi was certain things couldn’t get any worse—dropped a plate in the sink.

The only saving grace was that she hadn’t hurt herself. Something was clearly on her mind, though; she seemed absentminded.

“Are you... thinking about what happened yesterday?” he inquired as he called to mind what Chiaki had said yesterday. “The Ice Queen” responded with a startled expression, but didn’t respond. There was a prolonged period of awkward silence that persisted between the two. Still, it was essentially a response in Asahi’s eyes. As always, he was reluctant to push her when she didn’t wish to speak.

Perhaps it was Asahi’s thoughtful and conserved nature that allowed him to engage with “The Ice Queen” as much as he did. He knew he would be lumped into the same group as everyone else otherwise—rejected, ignored, and unable to get a single glimpse past her frigid façade. Perhaps it was also because he wanted to get to know who she truly was: the girl named Fuyuka Himuro, not the ever-distant “Ice Queen” whose heart seemed to eternally be locked away.

“I’m still not sure about how to answer the question your friend asked me yesterday...” she finally whispered. No other question could possibly have stumped her as much as that one had.

“What’s the relationship between you two?”

“I felt pain in my chest when I heard you say we were just neighbors,” she continued quietly. “I couldn’t for the life of me understand why. It’s what I originally wished for... what I wanted... but now I’m left wondering about our relationship, and I can’t seem to find an answer.”

Asahi listened attentively to her every word. He never thought she’d spent so much time trying to conjure up an answer. Guess Chiaki was right after all, he thought to himself. His words had been continuously swirling around in her head, although she couldn’t exactly grasp the reason why. Asahi, however, knew the cause behind such jumbled feelings—it was surely because he had become a constant presence in her life, or so he thought. They’d spent so much time together by then—too much time, in fact. It was too late for them to go back to being “just neighbors,” and that triggered an extreme feeling of uneasiness and anxiety in the indomitable “Ice Queen.”

“I just said that so they’d get off my back. That’s all...” he mumbled.

“Really?” Fuyuka asked after pausing shortly, clearly suspicious.

“Yeah,” he asserted with conviction. The reality of the matter was significantly different, however. Last night, Asahi himself had spent several torturously long hours ruminating over the nature of their relationship before he’d finally fallen asleep.

“... I see you as a friend, Himuro,” he answered. A friend—the simple word was enough to make him feel embarrassed. He could feel his heart pounding frantically and his face growing increasingly warmer.

“Friends...” she muttered in a wide-eyed daze. Their eyes met for a quick second before she averted her gaze downward again. With her head hung so low, Asahi struggled to make out the expression hidden behind her glossy black hair. Still, he was certain she had reacted to what he’d said.

Another thought occurred to Asahi—how could they possibly be considered friends? There was nothing that could attest to that fact, nor any sort of item that could serve as proof of that friendship. Still, that didn’t stop him. One could think of anybody as a friend... That was the answer he had arrived at after a long night of thinking.

“I’ve been avoiding making friends for as long as I can remember,” Fuyuka finally spoke up in a trembling voice. “I thought I wanted to live alone without having to worry about coming into contact with others...”

Asahi kept his queries of “Why?” and “Since when?” under check as he waited for her to continue.

“But now, I...” she trailed off. There was a great deal of hesitation in her voice, as if she were taking her sweet time to properly convey her thoughts. Unlike their previous bouts of silence, this one felt rather warm and pleasant. Finally, she continued, “I... want to think of you as a friend, as well.”

Asahi remained silent for a few seconds before asking, “What does that even mean?”

“We can’t officially become friends without something to signify it, right?” she explained. Aashi was surprised, but also relieved that she shared a similar sentiment to him. Proof of their friendship—an intangible bond that connected two people, one where Asahi knew how to convey his feelings.

“Fuyuka,” he spoke in a gentle tone, or, at least, that was how he’d intended to sound. He was so flustered that his voice came out ever so slightly shaky. He scratched his head and recalled the last time someone had asked him to refer to them by their first name. When Hinami had demanded it, he hadn’t been exactly enthusiastic about the idea. Now it was even worse, given that he was the one who had initiated it. He was embarrassed to such a degree that he couldn’t even bring himself to make eye contact with Fuyuka and averted his gaze. “Friends... usually call each other by their first names. It’s a simple act of intimacy... but we can stop if it makes you feel uncomfortable,” he muttered.

What he had really meant—though he hadn’t actually said it—was, I think that would be more than enough proof that we’re now friends. He wasn’t sure how she would react to or feel about it. The dreaded silence returned once more. Eventually, a certain sound reached Asahi’s ears. It was a frail voice, inaudible almost, though still clear and beautiful nonetheless.

“Asa... hi...” her voice trembled as she trailed off. The person in question reflexively turned his face toward the voice that uttered his name. That was when their eyes met.

“Will you... become my friend, Asahi?” she continued while staring firmly and directly at him. Her cheeks, shrouded by locks of silken hair, were imbued by a color of red like never before. Her eyes began to water in embarrassment, but they were also sparkling in expectation.

She’s... adorable, he thought to himself, as if such a simple expression would suffice in properly describing her. He was utterly mesmerized, attested to by his heart practically racing a mile a minute. And, much like Fuyuka, he felt like his body was burning up from the inside. No mirror was necessary for him to know that his face was the exact same shade of crimson that hers was.

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"Sure," he finally answered after he broke out of his stupefied daze. Doubts lingered within the depths of his mind, however, and questioned why it felt unusually “special” for them to refer to each other by their first names.

Sure have been dealing with a lot of crap recently, he mused. At the very least, he finally had the answer to one of his many problems: he and Fuyuka finally had put a proper label on their relationship. There was no need to mull over the pile of unanswered questions at the moment. Slowly but surely, they would solve each one of them one by one, or so Asahi thought.

“Glad we got that out of the way,” he spoke up. “Now, I want you to be focused and ready to go for tomorrow’s cooking class, okay? I’m not a fan of spending the evening scrubbing oil off the floor.”

“Wh-Why are you bringing that up now?!” she cried.

“I couldn’t tell you earlier because you looked so grim, but you seem fine now,” he explained. It was true—she appeared to be much more relaxed than she was just a few moments ago. That was short-lived, however, as her expression quickly clouded over once he brought up the tragedy of an hour ago.

In truth, it was nothing more than a diversion—the general mood felt awkward and he wanted to scourge that ticklish feeling he had inside. He figured that shifting the conversation would do the trick and, in turn, calm his rapidly beating heart.

“You really are quite the bully... Asahi.” Her voice quivered as she pouted and looked at him with upturned eyes. He was caught off guard and almost blurted out what he was thinking. That was so goddamn cute...

Much to his disappointment, things hadn’t gone according to plan. His heart continued to palpitate like mad after she’d shown him such an innocent, youthful expression befitting her age. That was just plain cheating, he grumbled to himself. The rose-colored lips, perfectly puckered into a pout, and the sulky gaze would have been enough to throw any man for a loop.

This can’t be good for the heart, he continued. While he was the one who had suggested the idea, he wasn’t convinced that he could get used to Fuyuka calling him by his first name. Still, if he was this nervous about it, there was no doubt that she felt the same.

Fuyuka’s face was slightly flushed as she tried to conceal a timid smile. This timid side of her is also adorable, Asahi thought. It proved to be too adorable, in fact—he had to avert his gaze once again as he busied himself with preparing the textbooks and other materials they needed to study.