Chapter Six: Promise

Chapter Six: Promise

The thick clouds that had covered the sky earlier are starting to disperse. When I look east, there's a beautiful bittersweet orange color contrasting against the sky's dark gray.

Mana and I made plans to meet tomorrow before we parted ways. I have so many things to tell her that I can't stand still. Grabbing my parasol from my tote bag, I open it and run through the sunset-orange tinted residential area.

Just leave me alone!

The words I said earlier now prick at my heart like thorns, and I start to hate myself for saying them. My regret turns into a restless feeling in my heart that makes me run even faster.

When I reach the school, I stop running. I hear students' voices, the ping of a baseball being hit, and the sound of woodwind instruments from the band in the distance. Miyano skipped school; he wouldn't be here. I keep running.

I take my usual route home, turning the corner and running along a stone block wall. Soon, I see a high-rise apartment building. I find a house that has a doorplate with "Miyano" written on it. My blood is pounding through my veins. It's a two-story house with a tiled roof, and its outer wall is so old that its beige color has faded off into bald patches.

Right next to the house is a tin-roof garage, but there are no cars parked in it. All I see is a dark blue mountain bike parked in a corner. On the bike, TAKESHI MIYANO is written in permanent marker, standing out in big block letters. I wipe my sweat off with the back of my left hand, which is still holding my parasol, and timidly press the button on the intercom.

I wait for a few seconds, but no one answers.

I take a step back from his house, and look again at the residential street I was running through. There's nowhere left to go, and I couldn't go anywhere even if I wanted to. I'm out of breath for a long time and my knees are shaking, my body is at its physical limits. It's pathetic how weak I am.

I don't have the will or strength to start running again, and drag my legs through the suburb. Out of the street, I reach the embankment that goes along the river and also works as a city boundary. Walking along it, I can look down on the weed-ridden riverbank. It's a fun place for elementary school students to play all year round.

From the embankment, some stairs with tall trees planted alongside them lead down to the riverbank. Among them is that tall, big cherry tree that gives me shade in the late afternoon, my favorite place. I love it not just because it's perfect for me, but also because I can overlook the surrounding area, including the riverbed and the bridges crossing the river.

I thought I could take a break there, but Miyano is sitting there under the tree.

He's facing the river sitting down quietly, not moving a muscle. He's holding his knees with his arms, and is resting his face in them.

It's so surprising to see him that it doesn't seem real. I feel like running over to check if he's a figment of my imagination, or a ghost. Instead, I can't ignore the feeling of fear building up within me. In the end, I go down the stairs slowly, checking each step.

When I call his name, he raises his head slowly. He's the real thing. I'm relived, before I see his face and start to worry. He's not bright and energetic as usual, and he has the same pale complexion he was sporting when I left him earlier.

He waits for me to say something.

"Hey, uh…" I start, thinking about what to say next. I know there are other things I should say, but instead, I ask him what I want to know.

"Did you know that keychain was Mana's?"

Instead of answering my question, Miyano stands up straight and offers me his seat at the foot of the tree.

"Sit in the shade," he says.

Hesitating a little bit, I close my parasol and lean against the tree trunk. That seems to be the right choice. The rough tree trunk on my back feels cool, comfortable against my exhausted body.

Miyano steps out of the shade. Lit by the setting sun, his body shines golden yellow.

"At first," he starts with his back turned to me, "I thought it was your keychain. But you made a funny face when you were looking at it, so I figured it was Mana's. To tell you the truth, I saw her looking for something before you found the keychain. I thought that you could give it back to her."

"Why did you know there were two?" I ask.

"I mean," he looks at me as if it's nothing out of the ordinary.

"It's your keychain, of course I know about it."

I can't figure out what to say to him in return. He remembers what keychains are on people's bags? How strange.

"I can't help it, it was always on your bag. You did take it off recently, though."

I feel heat flooding my face instantly. Moreover, I meet his gaze directly and I don't know what to do.

"You've got a good memory," I say, trying desperately to say something nice. He smiles at me.

It's a soft smile I have never seen him make at school. Even a sarcastic person like me can understand that it's not fake. My cheeks blush as if they were hit by sunlight, and I look down at my feet. I dig at the brown soil under them with the tip of my sandals.

I don't know why.

I don't know at all why he likes me, though now I'm sure he's not just joking about it.

He looks up to the sky and says,

"I always thought you were amazing. Whenever anyone asks you about your allergy, you just brush it off, like, ‘Yeah, I have an allergy, got a problem with that?' You're always...how do I say it? Your own person? I always thought that was great."

No, I'm not.

I almost say it, but I control myself.

I'm not tough at all.

I always pretend to be strong, but in fact, I feel inferior to everyone else. I'm jealous and envious of them. I want to run around the track, go swimming, and join the marching band on sunny days.

But I can't, no matter what I say. I only hurt myself by saying it out loud. So I gave up. I had to make do with what I have, and get used to it. The only way to protect myself was pretending to be fine with it.

"At first I thought you were amazing," he continues. "Before I knew it, I was watching you all the time. I started to think that you looked more relaxed with Mana than the other girls in your clique. I wondered why. Then, I noticed that Mana was calling you ‘Itsuko', not ‘Natsuko'. When I realized that...". Miyano stops, and I look up at him. When we make eye contact, he says,

"I understood. There really are things that get to you. You actually don't like being called by your nickname. So then, I thought, ‘you're an ordinary girl'."

I feel like the knot in my stomach unravels, spreading a colorful, bright pattern in my body. The sunlight dazzles my eyes. I wonder why the sun that I hated so much can look so beautiful when it shines. My heart pounds, my body feels like it's trembling, and I have difficulty breathing, like something is stuck in my throat.

I drew a line between me and the rest of the world, and spent my days cutting things out of my life. For the first time, I regret what I've done.

I can't win against his unwavering gaze, and look down to my feet, managing in a small voice, "Could you...could you tell me why we are alike if I go to the festival with you tomorrow?"

He doesn't reply, and when I look up to him, he is looking at me with a troubled look on his face.

Oh, right. I was the one who told him "Go away!"

My warm feelings turn heavy, sinking deeply, and it's hard to breathe again, in a different way than before.

I feel like I'm about to cry, so I hang my head and clap my hands together.

"I'm sorry. Forget what I just said."

He shakes his hands around in a hurry.

"No, no, no! I was just a little surprised! Well..."

Scratching his face with his finger, he looks up.

"I'm really happy."

He smiles gently, trying to calm me down.

"I really wanted to go to the festival with you, rain or shine," he says, adding,

"Let's meet under the overpass at five thirty tomorrow."

I give him a nod, and he raises his fist in the air.