The date progressed without any major hiccups. After eating, we went to a clothing store and engaged in a bit of a makeshift fashion show, then wandered into a 雑貨屋 (zakka-ya – a general store selling miscellaneous goods) and pointed out things we thought were cute.
But since we weren’t actually a couple, there was no mellowing of the atmosphere. A strange mix of awkwardness and tension hung in the air as we held hands.
Maybe we were like opposing magnets. The closer we got, the more we repelled each other, and that repulsion sent us drifting further and further apart.
So, we probably shouldn’t have gotten close in the first place, but our stubbornness and animosity forced us together.
Just once. Just once, I wanted to beat her. That was the thought that kept me by her side.
But she wasn’t attached to me, so if I gave up, she would naturally drift away too.
Or so I thought. The outcome of that dignity-wagered match proved otherwise. She hated me more than I realized.
“Wakaba, what do you want to do if you get a boyfriend?”
She asked, gently squeezing my hand. I knew that answering honestly would lead to trouble, but lying felt impossible too, like she’d see right through me, leaving me trapped.
“I don’t know.”
“Then find out. Think about it.”
I let out a small sigh. My ideal boyfriend. Things I wanted to do if I had a boyfriend. I must have had ideas once, but they had blurred and faded as I got involved with Komaki, until now I couldn’t remember anything.
“A sleepover, maybe?”
“Hmph.”
Despite asking me, she seemed uninterested.
What in the world?
She was probably just asking so she could steal another one of my precious things anyway.
“I can’t sleep well if my pillow changes.”
“I know. You were screaming about it on school trips in elementary school and middle school.”
“I wasn’t screaming. …Do you remember how I ended up sleeping?”
It would be easy to say I didn’t remember, but there was no point in lying.
“I became your pillow.”
The school trip in my third year of middle school had been the worst. Somehow, I ended up in the same group and the same room as Komaki, whom I actually resented at the time.
And then she had looked so worried, saying she didn’t think she’d be able to sleep.
I had no choice but to become her 抱き枕 (dakimakura – body pillow). Even though I disliked her, when she made that kind of face, I couldn’t just leave her be.
I was such an idiot for thinking that way.
“I do. I’m looking forward to it.”
The context felt off. But stirring up trouble would be a pain. I decided to leave this topic here.
Walking hand-in-hand, we eventually reached the end of the mall. There were no people in the passageway that didn’t connect to the parking lot or the main entrance. It was as if only this place existed in another world.
I stopped abruptly. Komaki stopped too.
Her face turned towards me, so I looked up at her. My eyes landed on her still-reddened lips. What did it feel like to kiss someone you hated?
She always stole my kisses, but what was going through her mind when she did it?
If her goal was just to harass someone she disliked, she should look like she was enjoying it more.
When she kissed me, she always had a blank expression, and sometimes even looked a little strained. It was probably just my imagination, but if she was happy about stealing something precious from someone she hated, she should smile.
What about the first time we kissed? That was the first and last time I initiated it.
I couldn’t bring myself to offer my own lips for the purpose of tormenting someone I disliked.
But if I kissed her of my own free will, maybe I could grasp something.
“Umezono. Your shoelaces are untied. You’re such a klutz. Tie them quickly.”
“Don’t nag.”
Hearing my words, Komaki bent down slightly. In response, I cupped both her cheeks in my hands and gently kissed her.
I wasn’t a nasty person like Komaki, so I didn’t use my tongue. I gave her several pecking kisses, making soft lip-smacking sounds.
It wasn’t enjoyable.
Even though I had wiped my mouth after eating, I could still faintly smell the gelato. It felt like the accumulation of the entire day was present on our lips.
Her scent was different than usual, her temperature a little higher, and her lips felt slightly stiff. Even she, the seemingly unflappable Komaki, seemed to tense up when unprepared. Seeing this side of her that I didn’t know made me feel a little pleased.
Komaki seemed perfect, but she wasn’t. She just believed she was.
“I hate you.”
My own words sounded terribly insincere, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Wa…kaba.”
“There’s no ‘kaba’ here. This isn’t a zoo.”
Chuckling, chuckling.
The sound of my own laughter echoed strangely in my head.
Could it be that even though I initiated it, I was flustered?
No, that’s ridiculous.
“Do you understand a little bit of how I usually feel now?”
Komaki put a hand to her lips, looking dazed. I hadn’t expected such a noticeable reaction, so it was a little surprising.
Still, it wasn’t enjoyable.
Seeing Komaki looking bewildered didn’t make me feel any better. Instead, I felt like I had lost sight of something even more important, and I kicked the ground.
“They say you end a date with a kiss, right? Maybe that’s one of the things I want to do if I get a boyfriend.”
I took a step back from her. My voice was a little shaky.
“I’m leaving you behind, Umezono.”
It was a good thirty seconds or so before Komaki finally started to move.
