Even if it was only through text messages, I'd finally managed to talk to Akari after all this time. Honestly, I was feeling a little on edge. The distance between us first started to grow when I met my ex—the one who was violent. From then until now, even though the reasons have changed, our friendship hasn't been anything like it was during our high school days.
Whether back then or now, the reason we grew apart was undoubtedly my fault and mine alone.
Would Akari resent me for it?
I sent my replies while harboring those heavy thoughts.
In the end, she hadn't changed a bit. She was the same old Akari—always thinking of her friends, always far too kind to them.
Guilt constricted my chest.
While it couldn't be helped back when I was with my ex, the reason I'm avoiding her now is born of nothing but my own selfishness.
I almost wished she would blame me.
"Don't ignore me just to go lose your head over some guy."
I thought it might be better if she said something like that, even if it made our relationship more complicated.
But despite how I felt, she reached out to me instead.
I really was blessed with good friends. That’s what I truly thought.
...And at the same time, another thought occurred to me.
It was because Akari was so kind that Yamamoto fell for her in the first place.
"What are you doing?"
We were in the living room. Fresh out of the bath, Yamamoto was towel-drying his hair, eyeing me with suspicion.
"Nothing."
"Huh?"
"I said it’s nothing."
"That’s a bit hard to believe."
...Well, what I was actually doing was...
"I was just practicing my smile. Got a problem with that?"
Akari’s greatest charm is probably that encompassing smile of hers. It’s enchanting and suggestive, yet innocent and refined all at once. It’s a perfect smile that holds every possible charm. It’s a reflection of her nature—her effortless sociability.
If only I could smile like that.
Back in high school, I never would have even dreamed of such a thing.
So when did I start thinking about it? When did I become this petty and jealous?
"Did I look like Akari just then?"
"Eh... Oh. Vaguely, maybe?"
I puffed out my cheeks and shot a glare at Yamamoto. That was basically his way of saying I didn't look like her at all.
Turning back to the full-length mirror, I pressed my fingers to my cheeks and forced the corners of my mouth upward. I tried to stay conscious of her expression, but the more I tried to force it, the more unnatural the smile became.
Still, if that was the smile he fell for, I couldn't help but want to mimic it. If I did, would he start looking at me more?
"That face doesn't suit you."
"Is there something wrong with it?"
"No. It’s just that your usual defiant smile suits you much better."
"...Hmph."
I let my fingers drop from my face and retreated from the mirror.
...Well, if he says it suits me, I guess that's that. It seemed a smile like Akari’s wasn't for me anyway.
It’s not like I’m happy just because he praised me, though.
"Hayashi, your face is red."
...I'm sorry for lying. I was incredibly happy.
Letting out a muffled groan, I collapsed onto Yamamoto's futon.
I don't know exactly when it started, but ever since that day I first caught the scent of his pillow, I’d started diving onto his futon whenever I saw an opening. I'd roll around, pretending it was an accident while hugging his pillow, diligently "marking" it with my scent or breathing him in with everything I had. I never neglected these efforts.
Though... can I really call them "efforts"?
"You’ve been 'mistaking' which futon is yours a lot lately."
Take the hint, you blockhead. I'm practically throwing myself at you.
Of course, a coward like me could never actually say that.
I sat up after satisfying my urge, glaring at Yamamoto, who was already focused on the TV and showing no sign of paying any more attention to me.
...That reminded me. There was something I actually needed to tell him.