We had stopped by the "love nest" Hayashi shared with her ex-lover before our date. There, we found the used condoms. Even though we were supposed to be heading out, the day was already fraught with trouble.
Feeling a bit awkward, I left Hayashi in the bedroom and waited alone in the living room. Truthfully, I didn't want to spend another second in such a dusty place, but I had no choice. Hayashi had found the clothes she wanted and ordered me to wait outside.
"Sorry to keep you waiting."
"A-achoo!"
I greeted her with a sneeze. It seemed she was no longer bothered by what we’d discovered in the bedroom.
"Yeah. It suits you. ...Achoo!"
"Thanks. I would’ve been happier if you’d managed to hold back that sneeze, though."
"My bad. I ruined the mood."
I apologized, feeling genuinely sheepish, but Hayashi was the one who had brought me to this dusty apartment in the first place. Maybe I didn't really need to apologize?
"Still, I’m a little surprised," Hayashi said, oblivious to my petty internal monologue.
"About what?"
"That you complimented me so directly."
"...Is that really so surprising?"
"Well, yeah. You’re always so cynical."
I couldn't exactly deny being a contrarian, so I kept my mouth shut.
"I just couldn't picture you giving someone an honest compliment."
"That’s not true. I’m always complimenting people."
"Liar."
"I'm not lying. ...Actually, maybe I am."
"See? I told you."
"...I just think you and those clothes suit each other so well that I felt I should say so."
I calmly analyzed my own behavior. The conclusion I reached was so cliché it hardly required any thought. Back in high school, she had been a Famous School Beauty. No matter what she wore, she was bound to look good.
"What’s wrong? Your face is red. ...Achoo!"
"...Nothing. Let's just get out of here."
"Let's. I can't stand how itchy my nose is anymore."
"...I’m honestly sorry about that."
Finally, we left her ex-lover’s apartment. We stepped out, locked the door, and headed for the street... but Hayashi stopped to look back up at the building.
"What is it?"
"...No. Nothing."
A sense of melancholy drifted across her face. Regardless of how it ended, she had lived here for several months. In one way or another, she had shared her life with the man she once loved. They had shared a dense, intense period of time together.
She was likely thinking about things I could never fathom. Perhaps she didn't even understand why she felt the need to look back.
"Well, shall we?"
"Yeah."
We started walking. We would likely never return here. Not me, and certainly not her.
The journey here had been a disaster. Hayashi had been pale with distress, and I had been so worried about her that I couldn't stay still. It was awful.
But as we walked away from the apartment, my heart felt incredibly light. Was it because I was going on a date with her? Or was it because I could see her looking refreshed beside me?
Probably both.
In high school, I never would have imagined this—that I’d be going on a date with Hayashi.
Back then, I hated her. I hated how arrogant, stubborn, and high-handed she was. I imagine she felt much the same way about me.
I never dreamed we would reunite in a city so far from our hometown and end up living under the same roof.
However, after living with this unexpected version of her for two weeks, I’d realized something.
The time spent with her actually wasn't half bad. That's what I’d started to think.
But our time together was almost over.
She didn't need my protection anymore. And if that was the case, she probably shouldn't be wasting her time with someone like me.
This date would likely be our final memory together.
A final memory for two people who used to despise each other.
On the day I decided to take her in, I’d considered refusing. When I remembered her from high school, I felt sympathy for her situation, but I didn't actually want to be around her.
But after actually living together... I was starting to think it hadn't been so bad.
I never expected to harbor these kinds of emotions.
...To think.
To think that I would actually want to keep living with Hayashi.
If I told my past self that such a day would come, he wouldn't believe a word of it.