Once Irie-san had moved away, we waited in silence for the train to reach our destination.
Gripping the hand strap, I stared vacantly at the pitch-black scenery rushing past the window.
Hayashi hung her head, looking deeply troubled.
She had seemed so happy while we were watching the play and right after it ended, so I couldn't help but wonder what had gone wrong.
Even after the play... when she had practically dragged me by the hand to get on the train, she had still seemed to be enjoying herself.
If that was the case, when exactly did her mood shift?
Well, no matter how I looked at it, it had happened after we ran into Irie-san.
...There was still a chance that she wasn't actually depressed.
Maybe she was just so moved by the performance that she was still lost in the lingering emotions of the play.
No, that wasn't it.
Strangely enough, just by looking at her, I could tell she was down.
If you asked me for a reason... I couldn't really explain it. It was just that I’d been living with her for about two months now. I could just tell.
"Hayashi, is something wrong?"
I spoke to her as gently as I could.
On the day we reunited—even though she had been in a far more miserable state back then—I hadn't felt the slightest urge to speak to her with such kindness.
This was likely another change in me, something born from the time we had spent living together.
Hayashi said nothing.
On the day of our reunion, despite being in much worse shape, she had put up a front of strength.
And yet now, she remained silent.
Maybe that meant she felt it was okay to show me her weakness.
Maybe that was what she was thinking... or maybe not.
I didn't know the truth for sure.
However, it was clear that she had changed.
"Yamamoto, was it really okay to say that earlier?" Hayashi finally whispered.
Earlier.
That thing.
What on earth was she talking about?
...Ah, my comment to Irie-san.
Realizing what she meant, I tilted my head.
Hayashi and I had lived together for nearly two months. After that much time, we had become much closer than we ever were in the past. We looked out for each other, and we were comfortable enough to lean on one another.
If that wasn't family, then I didn't know what was.
"...She's definitely misunderstood something."
I didn't quite grasp what Hayashi was trying to say.
I didn't think for a second that calling us family was a "misunderstanding." So why was she acting like this?
I tried to keep my cool.
It was a strange feeling. Usually, even if Hayashi said something nonsensical, I would just tease her. I never felt myself getting worked up like this.
And yet, right now...
I let out a heavy sigh.
I tried to look at it logically.
Hayashi and Irie-san were essentially strangers. But then again, Irie-san and I were basically strangers, too.
In that case, even if I didn't understand Hayashi's point, I couldn't definitively say she was wrong about how Irie-san felt.
In fact... given that she understood the labyrinthine complexities of a woman's heart, I had a feeling Hayashi might actually be right.
"...I'll set the record straight the next time I see her at the university."
"Yeah. That’s probably for the best," Hayashi said after a brief pause.
Her words indicated agreement, but that tiny hesitation made me feel like she didn't actually believe what she was saying.
"...You know, Yamamoto. You don't really value family all that much, do you?"
"Is that so?"
"It is. You were so insistent that I go back to my parents' house, but you never go back to yours."
"That's because you actually had a reason to go back."
To heal her emotional wounds.
And to see her gravely ill father one last time.
Hayashi needed to go back to her parents' house at that time.
"On the other hand, I have no reason to go home."
"You don't need a reason to go back to your parents' house."
"...Are you one to talk?"
"...Ahaha. You're right. Sorry."
She had been so stubborn about not going back, only finally giving in because I had pushed her.
She gave a weary, self-deprecating smile as she realized the hypocrisy.
...I felt like her usual self was finally starting to return.
The atmosphere between us until just now had been suffocating.
"But, family, huh," Hayashi said, her voice filled with emotion.
"...I never thought I'd hear those words coming from the version of you I knew in high school."
"I surprised myself, too. I didn't think I'd ever say something like that."
"Then that means... you... cherish... me... right?"
"I guess it does."
Lately, eating the meals she cooked for me had become one of my few genuine pleasures.
Of course, I was far too embarrassed to ever admit that to her face.
"I'm sure my ex-lover never thought of me as family."
The reason I saw Hayashi as family was because of the life we shared now.
But the same logic should have applied to Hayashi and her ex.
Just as she said, a man who would subject her to domestic violence clearly never viewed her as family.
But what about Hayashi?
Despite everything he put her through, she had remained devoted to him back then... How had she viewed him during those dark days?
As we watched the dark world rush by outside, we fell into silence once more.
That was when it happened.
"The train will be coming to a stop."
An announcement rang through the car.
The train began to decelerate abruptly. With a piercing screech of metal on metal, the carriage jolted violently and came to a halt.
"Kya!"
Hayashi let out a sharp cry.
"Are you okay?"
I reached out and pulled her toward me with my right arm as she lost her grip on the hand strap.
Her face ended up right against my chest.
My heart began to hammer against my ribs.
"...Sorry."
"As long as you're not hurt."
Hayashi pulled away from me.
Then, another announcement played.
Apparently, the train ahead had made an emergency stop, forcing us to halt as well. It sounded like we would be stuck there for a while until the tracks cleared.
No sooner had the announcement finished than the train lurched forward again.
But then, another update.
According to the conductor, the train ahead was staying put to attend to an emergency patient. Our train would proceed to the next station and then stop again indefinitely.
What a disaster, I thought blankly.
While I was worried about the sick passenger, I was more focused on the stifling, awkward tension between us.
It was unbearable.
I don't know how long we were forced to wait in that cramped space.
Inside the car, other passengers were beginning to grow restless and vocal, their irritation at the delay boiling over.
Hayashi stole a glance at her watch.
"Hey, Yamamoto?"
"Yeah?"
"We still have to transfer one more time, don't we?"
"Yeah."
"We're probably going to miss the last train."
"...I see."
Should we try to walk once we reached the transfer station?
No, from there, it would easily take over an hour on foot.
"Hey, Yamamoto?"
"Yeah?"
"Can we just get off here?"
"...Huh?"
"I'm just... so tired."
For some reason, Hayashi's eyes looked wet, as if she were on the verge of tears.
This was the moment!
No doubt about it!
If I played my cards right, I could actually score!