Chapter 7 of 29
Things always got interesting at my family New Year gatherings, and that was a very mild way of putting it. Some of my family members held onto opinions as if they were clutching hard-earned gold medals at an Olympics award ceremony. As I sat there and watched them cheerfully bicker away that evening, I thought about myself and my own views. Going to university must have opened up my eyes and allowed me to develop a mind with broader horizons. I was a small town girl, but I wasn't completely set in my traditional ways. I could see what was out there and I wanted to taste it.
I wonder what would have happened if I had moved to Tokyo liked I'd wanted to when I was a teenager. Maybe that would have been the equivalent of going to university. I would have been thrust into a whole new different world. A cosmopolitan city full of variety. A completely new and different education. Maybe one that was much better than the one I got sitting in a lecture room and taking notes on a piece of paper. Although to my university's credit, it allowed an unusually high number of foreign students to enrol, so while economics did little to expand the scope of my cultural understanding, talking to those foreign students did.
All "could have been" and "what if" statements pushed aside, the undeniable fact now was that I was about to move to the big city. I was about to become re-educated. A new chapter of my life was beginning. Or maybe it wasn't a new chapter. Maybe it was a whole new book. A whole new life. That's how it felt.
At around half past eleven that evening, I was getting another drink from the kitchen when I decided to check my phone for messages. I flipped it open and saw that I'd missed a call twenty minutes ago. A call from Aya. In addition to the missed call, I had a new e-mail. It was from her.
Just wanted to hear your voice one last time this year, but I guess it's okay. Have a Happy New Year!!
And that was how this girl made my heart melt. Forgetting my worries, and having had a few drinks and feeling fairly relaxed, I called her up.
"Hi!" she exclaimed into the phone.
Was she drunk?
"Hi, Aya-chan," I said quietly in a vague and stupid voice.
"I called you just now but you didn't pick up," she stated.
"Yeah, I didn't hear the phone. I was with family. Thanks, though."
There was a bit of a silence as we both waited for the other to continue.
"What are you up to tonight?" she asked finally.
"I'm at my grandmother's house with my family. We're doing the usual. Eating, drinking, arguing, and watching TV," I grinned. "What about you?"
"Lucky," she whined, and I could imagine her pouting. "I didn't have time to go down to see my parents so I'm just out with a couple of friends."
It sounded like she was in a busy place. I could hear a lot of buzzing going on in the background. I wondered what friends she was with. She had mentioned her friends from time to time in the past few months, and of course I knew some of their faces because some were her fellow singers and stars. I had an idea of which ones she was close to and which ones she simply hung out with, though.
"Shiba-chan?" I asked, calling to mind a picture of the former Melon Kinenbi member.
In the media, they always claimed to actually be good friends outside of work. I had found out that this was true. Aya spoke about her as one would a close friend. It was nice to know that not everything in the newspaper was faked.
"Yeah, among others," Aya replied perkily.
Well, at least she was in good company and having fun. Let her end the year on a happy note. I just hoped that tomorrow, the start of the New Year, wouldn't be a big disappointment for her.
"That's good," I said, lacking anything better to say. "And how'd things with work go?"
"My boss calling was a false alarm. Still no decision yet. It might take a few days, so I'm not thinking about it 'till then," she replied in good spirits.
There was that optimistic side of her. I really liked it.
"Good to hear," I said with a smile in my voice.
"Anyway, I'd better get going because we're off to go... haha, somewhere. I'm not sure where," Aya laughed a contagious laugh that made me chuckle.
"Okay, you go do whatever it is you have to do. I've got to get back to my family and make sure they don't kill one another."
"See you tomorrow?" she asked in a voice that reverted instantly from loud and jittery to shy and hopeful.
I swallowed hard, pushing my guilt back down into the pit of my stomach.
"I'll contact you when I land," I said quietly.
"Can't wait. Bye-bye."
"Bye-bye," I mumbled after she'd hung up.
With a sigh, I closed my phone, put it in my bag, and then gathered up my energy to make my re-appearance in the living room, trying to forget all the bad and focus on the good.
I slept at my grandmother's house that evening. After we brought in the official start of the New Year with our traditional jump and then a silence where we all e-mailed our friends, my two cousins and I went off to go to bed. We were similar in age and got along pretty well, so we were able to chat and laugh a bit before turning out the lights in our shared room. A little crowded, but it kept us warm. It was exactly what I needed to relax after a tense day and to forget about my worries.
In the morning, we woke up bright and early and went to the local shrine to open up the New Year.
As I stood there, my eyes closed, my hands clapped together, I wondered what to wish for. I could do what I did every year and ask for happiness or success during the year. But this year, I felt like I owed Aya something approaching gigantic, so I prayed for her. Of course I included myself in my wish, but it was mainly for her sake.
I hope that whatever happens with me, Aya's happy. If she's upset by what I've done, please let her get over it quickly and find happiness. Let this year be a good year for her.
It was all superstition. I didn't believe there were great powers in the rocks and trees making sure I had a wonderful life. But there wasn't much else I could do. Not for another few hours. At least praying at a shrine calmed me down, surrounded by family and friends and the natural tranquility of the shrine grounds.
The morning passed by quickly, and suddenly it was time to leave. I finished packing in a hurry, positive that I'd get to Tokyo and find that I had forgotten to bring my favourite jeans or skirt.
When I went downstairs, my mother went on about how she was going to miss me. She gave me a big, smothering hug, and then pushed me away, telling me to leave quickly or she'd start crying. My father remained stoic the entire time. He would be driving me to the train station, so there was no need for him to say goodbye yet. I said goodbye to my mother, smiling to prove to her that I really was happy and that this was really what I wanted.
The ride to the station was quiet. We didn't speak, so I flipped on the radio and listened to some oldies from the seventies and eighties.
When we got to the station, my father lifted my bag out of the trunk and put it beside the car.
"From here on, you're on your own," he said.
Superficially, he meant that I'd have to find my own way to the airport, but in a deeper sense, he was reminding me that the moment I stepped off this island, he wouldn't be able to come and help me in a jiffy if need be. I'd have to find someone else to come and fix the clogged up sink pipes and spent light bulbs.
"Take care of yourself," he finished simply.
No big speech, no angry words, no sad words, not a hint of emotion on his face. That was my father. I knew that he really did feel a whole slew of things and that he would miss me terribly, because I took after him. I often hid what I felt, too, if I thought it would cause a scene or was too exaggerated. The complete lack of emotion meant that there was lots of emoting going on inside.
"Thank you," I replied.
Thank you for driving me to the station. Thank you for letting your baby go off into the world without (too much) objection. Thank you for taking care of me for almost twenty-six years.
Words left unspoken. Words that I meant. Words that he knew already.
I smiled at my father one last time. He didn't smile back, but for a moment, his eyes weakened, and I could see all the worry and hurt, but all the happiness and curiosity that he felt for me, reflected in them. I picked up my bag, turned around, and didn't look back as I walked off.
The airport was easy to get to, and the crowds were mercifully thin, so while my bag became tedious and heavy, at least there was enough room for me and it to travel side-by-side. The entire trip to the airport I spent thinking about what I was going to say to Aya. As I checked in at the airport and sat waiting at the gate, I began to wonder what I thought about the whole thing.
What was my opinion about what had happened the previous night with Hiroshi?
I had been so consumed with worry over what Aya would think that I had barely had time to really decide what I thought.
What happened with Hiroshi was, simply put, wrong. It had been a mistake - an accident. It wasn't supposed to mean anything, and in fact, it meant very little compared to what I'd been dreaming about. Of course I still cared for him, but it was quickly fading as other feelings started to take over my heart. So in the end, what had happened had been out of my control, and not something that Aya should worry about or blame me for. The fact that I wanted things to work out with her - work out in what way, I didn't yet know, but if we were going to be living together for at least a small passage of time, I didn't want there to be bad blood between us - clearly made The Hiroshi Incident an unimportant issue.
And that was what I thought. If only Aya would see it that way.
For the plane ride, I reverted back to worrying about what she'd think and say, and dozens of new scenarios ran through my head, ranging from her slapping me to her pretending not to care and then sabotaging my life to get revenge.
Dozing off for the last half hour of the flight brought me a brief respite from my worries. I woke up just in time to watch us land.
In Sapporo, it had been snowing lightly before taking off, causing a slight delay until it was deemed safe to fly after the twenty minute flurry session had brought itself to a close. In Tokyo, there was not a hint of the white fluff. By the time the plane landed it was dark, but still noticeably warmer than back home. I concentrated on the disembarkation procedure and didn't let my mind wander until I had my luggage in one hand and was safely waiting for a train that would get me out of the airport area. It was then that I sent Aya an e-mail telling her that I'd arrived and was waiting for a train, followed by a quick e-mail to my mother to tell her I had arrived safely.
Aya's reply was a little delayed, and I laughed inwardly as I wondered if she was suffering from the night before. She sent me detailed directions to her apartment, and I committed them to memory. Then, once the train had arrived and I'd found a seat, she sent me another e-mail saying she'd meet me at the station. I sent one back insisting that I could find her place on my own, but she sent yet another e-mail back telling me to shush up and listen to her. And so I relented.
Hey, since when do I give up that easily? I asked myself as the dark Tokyo scenery sped by outside the window.
The question remained unanswered because I didn't bother to give it a second. I was merely following my instinct when dealing with this girl. It was simply the way it had to be.
It took just a little over forty minutes to get to her station from the airport. It would have taken less time, but I got a bit confused at one station and ended up missing the train and having to wait for the next one. I wasn't completely inexperienced in the ways of the Tokyo train system, having been to the city several times before, but I was generally bad at directions, so I never trusted myself to be right, and that's what caused my delay. It was one of the silly complexes that I'd have to work on fixing now that I had dozens of train lines to choose from in daily life.
As I was walking down the platform to find the station exit where I would meet Aya, someone came up from behind me.
"Hi! Long time no see!" he said happily.
I looked at him, a man perhaps in his late thirties, my mind racing to find out what thirty-year-old men I knew in Tokyo. When I studied his face, though, I didn't recognise him.
"I'm sorry?" I asked politely.
I looked at him in confusion, and his face slowly fell, matching my expression.
"Oh, sorry," he mumbled in confusion, taking a closer look at me. "I thought you were someone I knew. Sorry."
He bowed his head quickly and peeled away from my presence in embarrassment as I tried not to burst out laughing. Well, at least my first real human interaction since landing hadn't been dangerous, rude, or a sleazy pick up attempt. Just an honest case of mistaken identity. I supposed the back of my head looked very much like many other girls'.
I reached the exit and immediately started scanning the crowd, looking for Aya. I couldn't find her, so I went to a wall and stood there, waiting nervously.
She appeared a minute later, her hair wet from what I assumed had been a recent shower and wearing a hat and sunglasses, making me smile secretly in amusement. Her disguise wasn't all that bad since it covered most of her face, but the fact that nobody else was wearing that much head gear made her stand out even more. I saw her walk towards me, so I saved her some of the trouble, picked up my bag and met her halfway.
"Welcome to Tokyo, Miki-chan," she smiled underneath her "disguise".
"Thank you, Aya-chan," I replied cutely.
"This way."
I followed her out of the station and down the street.
I'll tell her when we get to her place. That way we can have some privacy so that she can yell and scream and throw me out without causing too much public embarrassment, I decided.
It took about ten minutes to walk to the front of her apartment, during which she asked me how my flight had been and what I felt so far about being in the city. I answered honestly that the flight had been nerve-wracking and that the people seemed nice enough in Tokyo so far.
I looked up when we stopped in front of a set of doors that would lead us to her place. From what I could see of it, it was a new building, and it did not look cheap. Not by a long shot. For a second - just a tiny second - I wondered what I was doing walking into this rich idol's fancy Tokyo condo when I came from an average-sized house in a small town in the middle of Hokkaido. I waved the thought off, however, because it was not conducive to making me feel better.
"Like it?" she asked, obviously seeing that I was impressed.
"It suits you," was my reply.
She smirked and took my bag from me, letting me wander in with nothing to weigh me down.
The lobby was a quiet and pleasant affair, spotless and homely. The elevator that we stepped into was in pristine condition, boasting trendy paneling, large, clean mirrors on the back wall and ceiling, and a smooth, turbulence-free ascent.
"Seventeenth floor," Aya said as we got in, and I obediently pressed the appropriately marked button.
We rode in silence, and when the doors opened, Aya gestured for me to get out.
"To the left. Number forty-seven."
I stepped out into a neatly-carpeted hallway. The lighting was soft and delicate, somehow urging all who passed through to relax and be at peace. The walls seemed so soft that if I fell against one, I thought that I might feel like I was sinking into warm butter. This place did everything to make its residents want to stay permanently. I was already getting the feeling that I didn't want to leave. I hadn't even seen the inside of Aya's room yet, but I knew that if I lived here for the rest of my life, I'd be content.
I led us down the hallway, counting the numbers as we walked by the doors until we reached number seventeen-forty-seven. I stood at the door while Aya put my bag down, took her key out, and opened the door. All I saw was darkness. I picked up my own bag, and after she indicated for me to walk in, I did so, slipping into the darkness. She followed right after.
The darkness disappeared promptly. Aya flicked a switch up, and we were bathed in a bright, warm light, it alone starting to take away the chill that had crept into our bones from the cold winds outside. I took off my shoes, not even bothering to arrange them neatly, and walked around the living room slowly, inspecting everything briefly.
Her apartment was clean, and so utterly "Aya" that I just let out a laugh.
"What?" she asked.
"It's so you!" I cried out in delight. "I mean, it's exactly what I expected."
From the pictures on the wall to the plants to the books and magazines she chose to leave on her bookcase, it all matched what I knew about her from the time we'd spent together. Her small laptop computer sat in a corner beside her television set and DVD player, all dust-free and brand new models.
This place was a home, not just a temporary residence that she was using until she decided to move back to her hometown.
"I hope that's a good thing," she said with an uncertain laugh from behind me.
I heard her walk up beside me.
"Definitely," I assured her with a smile.
This place... I could live in forever. I forgot about Hiroshi. All I could think about was waking up every day in this room with her and going about our daily life in peace and harmony.
"Come on, there's more," she said, linking her arm around mine and pulling me along.
I let myself be taken on the tour.
"This is the kitchen," she said in a childish way.
I huffed out a laugh, as it was quite obviously a kitchen and I had no need for her to tell me so. It was clean, a few recently-washed dishes sitting and drying beside the sink. She pulled me over to a door and opened it.
"Bathroom," she announced, pointing to the invitingly large bath in the room that called out for me to fill it up with hot water and sink into it in order to warm my bones.
She pulled me past two doors.
"Toilet," she said, "and a closet full of cleaning junk beside it."
She didn't need to open those up as neither would be very big nor impressive.
"And last, my bedroom."
She slid open a door, and in the tatami room that lay behind it was her Ayaesque bedroom. A few bookcases, a nice poster of some landscape, a large closet presumably stuffed with her mounds of clothes, and a chest of drawers that doubled as a vanity, makeup and other accessories neatly lined up on it.
"It's usually very messy. I just cleaned it up to impress you," she admitted after seeing that I was surveying the types and brands of makeup she had.
I could imagine it becoming awfully cluttered, but she struck me as the kind of person who would clean it up before it got too bad.
She hadn't lied before when she had said the bed was big enough for two, but I tried not to keep my eyes on it for too long because I didn't want her to get the wrong idea. Not that that would be such a bad thing. It just didn't feel right. Not yet. Nonetheless, the bed looked comfortable and warm, and I wondered if I'd ever be allowed to sleep in it.
I instantly remembered what I had to tell her, but her arm encircling my waist and pulling me close to her made me hesitate, and then it was too late.
"So, do you like my place?" she asked.
I nodded, starting to sweat a little, and it wasn't just because of her proximity.
"It's really nice, Aya. Like... really nice," I said.
"You don't mind living here?"
Why would she ask something like that? Of course I wouldn't mind. The question was more appropriately directed at her.
"I think I should ask you that. You don't mind if I stay here for a few weeks 'till I find my own place?"
I chuckled to myself, imagining what kind of place I could afford. Nothing as glorious and clean as this place. I would have to start small and work my way up.
"You can stay longer," she said, not specifying how much longer.
"How much longer?" I asked curiously.
"As long as you can tolerate living with me," she said, squeezing me gently.
That was it. I had to tell her now. She would be the one not able to tolerate living with me once she knew. I opened my mouth to speak when she interrupted me.
"Did you eat dinner?"
It was half past nine in the evening and I hadn't eaten, but I was so nervous that I wasn't a bit hungry.
"No, but I'm not hungry," I claimed.
She looked at me, doubt strewn across her face like a veil, but she ended up believing me.
"Want to take a shower then?"
Oh my god, I thought. With her?
I didn't let my terror show, but I think she sensed it, and she let me go, pushing me to the bathroom she'd shown me earlier.
"I have to make a phone call, so go ahead and get cleaned up. Sorry I didn't fill the bath up earlier, but you can try that out tomorrow since it takes forever. And don't worry, I'll be here when you get out and we can just stay in this evening."
I let out an inward sigh of relief, and I thanked her, grabbing some things from my bag and letting her provide me with a clean towel.
As I let the magnificent high-pressure shower wash away my sweat and urge some more warmth into my muscles, I started to decide on the best way to tell her about the incident. I came to the conclusion that short and to the point was best, and so once I got out of the shower, I would talk to her right away.
I was in there for twenty-five minutes, washing my hair and body carefully, stalling and running up a bill with all the hot water I was using. When I finished, I put on some neutral pyjamas that could double as a quick getaway track suit in the event that she threw me out suddenly, and feeling quite a bit refreshed, I left the bathroom.
Aya was still on the phone when I went into the living room, and she looked up at me, holding up a finger to indicate that she'd be done soon.
"So Tuesday at eleven?" she asked, confirming some sort of plan.
I sat down on the couch, and leaned back, pretending not to pay attention.
"No, I hate that one. Oh, come on, we went there last time. Can you choose another place?" she whined
She paused to listen to the response.
"Ah, that's much better!" she said, her voice reverting to its cheerful state. "You're the best!"
She said goodbye to whoever was on the line, and then apologised to me, getting up from the floor and sitting beside me on the couch.
"So, how'd you like the shower?" she asked.
"It's great. Much better than the one I have at home," I laughed, finding it cute how she kept checking to make sure I was enjoying everything I encountered.
"Good," she said happily, and she snuggled into me.
I tried not to groan. How could I start to talk to her when she was being all close and cute?
"Are you actually happy you came here?" she suddenly asked with uncertainty in her voice.
"O-of course," I stammered in surprise. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"You just seem a little quiet."
There I had gone making her feel like a bad host. I put a hand on her leg comfortingly.
"I'm just a little overwhelmed," I said, which was the truth. "But I like being here very much."
I just don't like keeping things from you, I finished in my mind.
"Good."
Now I really couldn't say anything. Not in this situation. Maybe I'd wait a few minutes until she moved away, but she didn't move away. She started to ask me what I wanted to do the next day and the next weekend, and she had all sorts of suggestions of what we should do together. I tried to follow her fluctuating topics, but I found myself clumsily flailing about, hiding my distraction behind the guise of being overwhelmed. She sensed my tension.
"Bedtime," she said cutely when I tried to stifle a yawn.
Oh brother.
She showed me to her room again, and while she got changed, I inspected her bed, checking the thickness of the blankets, the bounciness of the mattress, and the position of the window, trying to judge whether it would impede efforts to sleep in by letting in the sunlight too early.
"The window faces west, so don't worry too much about the morning sunlight," she informed me, reading my mind.
It had the effect of relaxing me, and I slipped in under the covers without invitation, curling up on my side and facing the wall. She soon followed after turning out the light, and things got very uncomfortable again for me the minute that happened.
"You're really tense, huh?" she said, crowding me and treating me like a teddy bear, speaking with her mouth a few centimetres away from my ear. "I know this is all really new and weird for you, but try to relax. I'm not going to bite your head off or do anything bad to you. And if I do, you can hit me and yell at me for being a moron."
I giggled despite myself, and she hugged me even more tightly.
"Yeah, I'm just, um..." I mumbled, trying to find some way to lead into what I had to say. "I-"
But she pinched my side.
"Maybe you should give your brain a rest. It seems fried."
She put her hands on my shoulders and started to massage them, and somewhere in the back of my mind, some crazy statistical information about the high percentage of massages that led to wanton behaviour danced about.
And we did not put that statistic to shame, for what started as a massage indeed led to more, and before I could say "stop, I need to tell you something important", hormones usurped the throne from reason in my brain and I became my hungry old self around her for the second time in our lives.
A good deal later, it was no longer cold in the room, and the sweat on my body wasn't from my nervousness, but from the heat we had generated. However, as the hormones slowly cleared out and reason inched its way back to its rightful seat at the head of my brain's central functioning centre, a cold fear swept through me and I felt like I had to say something as soon as possible before the chance slipped away.
But how could I say anything when neither of us was wearing a stitch?
Then again, I'd argued with Hiroshi while in the nude. But we'd been going out for two years and we'd known each other for longer. It was a bit more normal.
I sucked in a huge breath until my lungs felt like they were going to explode, and I let it all out until I felt my lungs would collapse. Then with one more medium-sized breath, I spoke.
"So..." I started awkwardly, pulling the sheets over my body a little more and backing away an infinitesimal distance.
"Mmm?" Aya uttered, stretching out on her back in a languorous, teasing way under the thin sheets that covered us.
"Two nights ago I, um..."
I stopped, my heart beating like wild, my arms tensing up to defend myself when she inevitably started hitting me.
Aya closed her eyes, a sated smile on her lips, and I wished she didn't look so happy. I wished we hadn't done what we'd just done. I wished that I had had the courage to bring the subject up the moment I saw her at the station, not now in bed at midnight.
I steeled myself and ploughed on through my nervousness, chastising myself for being such a wishy-washy wimp around her.
"Two nights ago I sleepwalked and I kind of went to Hiroshi's room and slept with him."
I said it quickly, purposefully, matter of factly, and with grit teeth. It was the moment of truth.
Aya, however, did not change her position, her eyes remaining closed.
"Is that so?" she asked conversationally.
Her mind must have been wandering and not listening to a word I was saying. Not that I could blame her, but I wondered if all pillow talk with her would be like this - words going in one ear and immediately exiting out the other. If so, there would be no point talking in bed, and there would go my opportunity to do something I really wanted to do with her.
"Are you paying attention?" I asked testily.
"Mmmhmm," she replied in the same way, dragging out the mumble.
"I slept with him. As in sex. Naked. Skin-on-skin. Hot and passionate. In the guest room in my house," I continued, rolling my eyes at being ignored.
"Yeah, thanks. I heard it the first time. I don't need the details," she said surprisingly sharply.
Oops. So she was paying attention.
"Ehhg... I- uh-" I stuttered
She opened her eyes and pierced me with a look I couldn't read.
"Two nights ago? The day I left?"
Her voice revealed nothing either, but angry or not, I had to tell her the truth, so I nodded.
"And you were sleepwalking?" she asked, and this time I could have sworn she sounded almost amused and perhaps inclined to question the possibility of my doing such a thing while remaining asleep the entire time.
I nodded again, this time embarrassedly.
"And?"
Details. She wants details. Not about the actual act, but about the after part.
"He misunderstood. He thought I was awake, and he apologised after, and then, um, we got into a fight outside and I kind of told him a bit of what happened between you and me, and he got even angrier..."
She seemed to latch onto something I said, because she lost the neutral expression and looked at me with interest.
"What did he think about that? About your situation with me?"
I squirmed uncomfortably, sweating profusely under the scrutiny of her gaze.
"He thinks you're just a phase for me," I said in a voice that barely made it past my lips. "He was really angry. He felt really cheated."
She remained silent, no reaction. I didn't like grovelling, but considering the mess I'd gotten myself into, I had to do something to repent.
"I'm really sorry. I didn't want it to happen, and I couldn't control myself. A-and it didn't mean anything. I was actually having a dream about you," and here my face must've turned red at my unplanned admission, "and it kind of transferred into a real life, ah, situation, only you weren't there. And I've been killing myself with worry because I hate what I've done and I don't want to upset you and-"
A cool hand touched my overheated arm, and I stopped talking. Aya was looking at me with a look of pity. Maybe she thought I was a pathetic excuse for a human.
"Miki, it's okay," she said quietly.
But it couldn't be that simple, so I waited until she spoke again.
"Somehow, it's okay," she sighed. "You're here now. Your heart is here. Right?"
I nodded, unable to form words.
"And you were asleep then when it happened."
But why isn't she upset?
"So you're not upset?"
She shook her head.
"Of course I am," she said clearly, and my heart plunged. "But things happen that we can't control. Like I said, you're here now. And it's not like I had any right to demand anything from you before. I can't be completely upset with you."
My heart floated back up slowly to its normal resting spot. What she said made sense, which stunned me. She was being very sensible here, thinking hard with her head. Maybe I was important enough to bust out the logic and reason. The head was a useful tool when used properly, and while I believed matters of the heart should be left to the heart, there were some situations where a broad mind was required.
"Now that you live with me, however, you'd better not be going off and doing that with just anyone."
She spoke mostly playfully. A bit serious, but softening her words with a joking tone. I let out a sigh, my body feeling like it was a parched victim of a shipwreck finally tasting sweet, spring water after days of thirst and hunger.
"I'm really sorry," I said, my apology gushing out of my mouth uncontrollably. "I don't have a habit of doing that. I really don't."
"And you say you were dreaming about me?" she asked, the twinkle in her eye increasing tenfold.
I closed my eyes and made a pained face.
"Don't ask," I muttered.
"You're so shy around me," she laughed, stroking my hair in adoration.
"Give me time," I mumbled.
We exchanged silly banter for a few minutes until she told me to stop worrying and to get some rest. We could talk more in the morning. We lay there silently, each of us trying to go to sleep, but with some sort of uptight anticipation in the air. Maybe she wanted to talk more but had decided to wait until the morning. I definitely wanted to talk more. I wanted to tell her that I was happy about the way things had worked out.
A perfect resolution. Life could not possibly be this good.
But it was. Sometimes it simply was. Good things happened, and there were no bad effects to counteract them. This was one of those lucky breaks in life that few people got. With an inward chuckle, I wondered it some tree god had been listening to my thoughts at the shrine that morning and had decided to grant my wish.
Happiness bubbled up in me, and it came pouring forth in the form of words, again words that I could not control.
"Thank you, Aya-chan," I said, breaking the silence that had settled over us. "And I promise you that from now on, I'm yours only. Okay?"
My life was so strange. Saying these words to a girl I had only met two months ago, a girl whose music I had listened to so many times on the radio. A strange, strange life indeed.
She shifted a centimetre towards me and rubbed my arm.
"Okay. And just so you know, I've been yours since before the first evening I met you."
Ug, how romantic, I thought sarcastically, yet still embarrassed.
There she was again saying how she felt like she'd known me long before she met me. But that was okay. If that was her way of telling me I was important, then I'd take every word I could get out of her.
We didn't speak anymore that night, but the tension from the air disappeared, leaving behind only the anticipation of being able to wake up beside each other the next day.