The view of the skyscrapers that I only got to see because of Yamamoto stayed with me.
When I closed my eyes, the scene from that moment flickered behind my eyelids, and a sense of joy bubbled up inside me. It had been a truly precious experience—that much was undeniably clear.
I wondered just how much more Yamamoto was going to give me.
To think the day would come when I would be this close to the boy I hated in high school. To think I would feel such deep gratitude toward him.
And... affection.
To think I would harbor feelings like that.
If I had told my high school self about this, she surely would have made a face of utter disgust. Then, shaking her head and insisting such a future was impossible, she would have slumped back into her usual, lazy daily routine.
But now, I felt a twinge of regret. I should have faced Yamamoto properly back in high school. If I had, I surely would have been drawn to him even then. Now, I could say that with absolute certainty.
I really was a fool.
However, I could still make up for it. I knew that now, thanks to a certain someone who taught me the importance of looking things straight in the eye.
While I waited for the day I’d receive my first paycheck from the various part-time jobs I was juggling, I had already made up my mind. I wanted to take Yamamoto out, partly to thank him for everything he did for me every day.
What would make him happy?
Planning the date while wondering about that was incredibly fun. Thinking back on it, whenever I went on dates with my ex, I felt like I was always the one making him cater to my whims. Since he was obsessed with his public image, he let me do whatever I wanted when we were out.
In other words... what I’m trying to say is this: Yamamoto was the first person I ever wanted to go on a date with because I wanted to see him enjoy himself.
I felt guilty for using Akari’s name to invite him. But since she got to have him all to herself back in high school when I wouldn't give him the time of day... she could forgive me just this once, couldn't she?
I used that selfish excuse as my get-out-of-jail-free card and asked him out. I called it an "outing" rather than a "date" because I was too embarrassed to actually say the word.
Once, I had intended to leave Yamamoto’s room for good. Back then, with my heart full of the pain of parting, I had managed to ask him for a date. It was strange. Back then I could say it, yet now I couldn't.
That was how much my heart had become fixated on him.
If I told him I wanted to go on a date now, I’d probably end up smirking at my own imagination or acting completely suspicious. Either way, I was sure I’d look ridiculous. That was why I couldn't bring myself to say it.
Even though I was such a coward, I had caused him trouble and even made him carry me on his back... was it really okay for me to feel this fulfilled?
I saw a beautiful view with Yamamoto. I ate dinner at a stylish restaurant with Yamamoto. And I watched a play by a famous theater troupe with Yamamoto.
Just that was enough to leave me feeling completely content.
"That was incredible."
"Yeah, it really was."
We were leaving the venue, merging into the crowd of people heading home. To be honest, the play had been amazing. Even Yamamoto, that perpetual Mr. Quibbler, was at a loss for words, which should speak volumes about how good it was.
"Yamamoto."
"Yeah?"
"Don't you dare go getting obsessed with this, okay?"
"Nngh... well..."
He gave a non-committal grunt. He was the type who got very fixated on his interests. While we were watching the play, I had been stealing glances at him, and I caught a glimpse of that obsessive side of his, so I made sure to nip it in the bud.
Still, I hadn't expected him to actually be on the verge of falling down the rabbit hole. I couldn't help but let out a dry laugh.
We spent a while being swayed by the rhythm of a crowded train. Even inside the car, we kept talking about the day's events. From embarrassing stories to moving moments and silly jokes—there was no sign of the conversation drying up.
"Yamamoto, run! We're going to miss the transfer!"
"At worst, we can just wait for the next one, right?"
We reached the connection point. In contrast to my frantic rushing, Yamamoto was terribly laid-back.
"Oh, honestly!"
I grabbed his hand and started running. He was right that we could just wait for the next train, but if we could make this one by a hair, wasn't it better to get home sooner? Yamamoto had school tomorrow. Since I was the one who dragged him out all day, I wanted him to get as much rest as possible.
"Come on, move!"
"Ugh..."
We sprinted through the transfer gate just in time. Soon, we were being swayed by the train once again.
"We made it."
"I guess so."
Even though I’d forced him to run, Yamamoto didn't look the least bit annoyed. My previous boyfriend probably would have been angry, and I never would have done something as forceful as grabbing his hand to run in the first place.
I only did it because it was Yamamoto.
I really was taking advantage of his kindness. The thought suddenly struck me. Maybe one day, I’d face divine punishment for it. But surprisingly, I realized I wouldn't care. As long as I was happy right now, that was enough.
"Oh, Yamamoto-kun?"
It happened then. Inside the train that was carrying us toward the station nearest our apartment, a woman called out to him. She was someone I didn't recognize.
"...Irie-san. Right?"
The moment Yamamoto said her name, a murky, dark emotion flooded my heart. Who on earth was this woman? Yamamoto didn't have a wide social circle. Especially not here, away from our hometown.
Then I remembered the mixer he had gone to recently. She was probably one of the participants.
"Wow, what a coincidence!"
Her voice sounded manufactured, sweet and put-on.
"What are you doing out so late? You have school tomorrow, you know."
She peered up at him with practiced, upturned eyes.
"...And who is this?"
Then, she turned a hostile gaze toward me.
Ah, I see. This girl... she likes Yamamoto.
I knew it instantly. After all, she looked a little like me.
"Are you two dating? Oh, am I in the way?"
Her eyes were eloquent. She was searching for a sign, suspecting that there was no way a guy like Yamamoto would have a girlfriend like me.
I could only watch to see what he would do. A cold fear gripped me. Because, just as her eyes suggested, we weren't actually dating.
What would he say? No matter the answer, I didn't want to hear it. If he said we were just friends, I’d be hurt. If he said we were lovers, I’d be angry at him for lying. Yamamoto hated those kinds of lies. Doing something so disagreeable wouldn't be like him. Even though I should have been happy, I knew I would end up complaining to him.
Either way, there was no answer that would make me happy. In the midst of that, what would he choose to say?
"No, she's not my girlfriend."
"Oh, really?"
"She's family."
The girl’s eyes went wide. She looked back and forth between our faces.
"...You mean you're siblings?"
"No, not that."
Yamamoto groaned, seemingly struggling with how to explain it.
"...A lot has happened."
In the end, he just let out a wry smile and left it at that.
"...I see."
"Yeah."
"Well, see you."
"Eh? Oh... yeah. See you."
The girl walked away from us, looking visibly dejected.