It was Friday night of the week we’d finally settled on Yamamoto’s trip back home.
We had finished dinner and were just idling away the hours until bed. Perhaps because of that, Yamamoto was lounging in front of the TV, looking perfectly relaxed.
I, on the other hand, was busily scouring my closet.
“Yamamoto, how about this one?”
“Yeah, looks fine, doesn’t it?”
“What about this?”
“Yeah, looks fine, doesn’t it?”
“This?”
“Yeah, looks fine, doesn’t it?”
“I get it. You have absolutely no intention of listening to a word I’m saying.”
A mountain of clothes lay strewn across the bed.
As for what I was doing, I was in the middle of having Yamamoto judge my potential outfits for our visit to his parents' house tomorrow.
Well, I say I was having him judge them, but as our exchange clearly showed, he couldn’t have cared less.
To be fair, Yamamoto hadn’t been like this at the start. In the beginning, he had actually fretted over the choices with me, trying to figure out what would be appropriate.
The tide had turned, I assumed, right around the time I’d finished showing him every single item in my closet and still couldn’t make a decision.
To put it bluntly, anyone looking at us would say I was the one in the wrong.
...But of course, I had my reasons.
I was going to meet the family of the person I loved. It was only natural to be a nervous wreck. It was only natural to agonize over my clothes. He could’ve humored me a little longer, even if I had been at it for a mere two hours...
...Fine. Yes. It was my fault.
Two hours was definitely pushing it.
Maybe an hour and a half? He probably would’ve stuck it out that long.
“I-If they think the person living with their son is some kind of weirdo, it’ll be a total disaster, right?”
Even so, even knowing I was being difficult, I couldn't help it. The reason was exactly what I’d just said. If I made a bad impression and they told him to never see me again, I’d probably waste away from the shock...
“I’ve told you a dozen times, stop worrying. It’ll be fine. They aren't the type to get worked up over someone's clothes.”
“That’s such a detached way of putting it...”
I sighed with exasperation, but Yamamoto didn’t even bother to reply. It seemed he was well and truly fed up with me.
Still, if his own son said so, I could at least trust that his parents weren’t overly strict.
In the first place, given Yamamoto’s own personality, agonizing this much the night before was probably just overthinking.
...Then again, look at Yamamoto.
He was a bit fussy.
He was stubborn as a mule.
And he was incredibly meticulous.
...If these were his parents we were talking about, I had a feeling that if I slipped up even a little, they’d have plenty to say about my appearance.
My head started spinning again. I was a complete mess.
“You’re honestly ridiculous sometimes,” he muttered.
“I-I can’t help it!”
It was the first time I’d ever met the parents of someone I was in love with.
...I’d lived with my previous boyfriend, but I’d never once had the chance to meet his parents.
Besides, the feelings I’d had for my ex and the way I felt about Yamamoto now didn't even belong in the same category. They were worlds apart.
So, no matter how it played out, tomorrow was going to be my true first time.
It was only natural to be nervous, and there was nothing strange about being restless the night before.
The only thing that actually was strange was the fact that Yamamoto and I weren't even dating.
...I wondered how he intended to explain me tomorrow.
Specifically, what I was to him.
He’d said he would be honest about us living together.
But he probably wouldn't be able to explain much beyond that.
Living together despite not being in a relationship... In a sense, wasn’t our situation terribly improper?
From an outsider's perspective, it wouldn't be a stretch to assume I was just some parasite clinging to him.
Well, that was exactly what I was doing—parasiting off him—but still...
Anyway, how on earth was he going to explain me to his parents?
...Normally.
Normally, if someone were in Yamamoto’s position, wouldn't they insist that I stay behind?
Wouldn't going home alone be the best way to avoid any drama?
And yet, surprisingly, after I’d pushed the issue following his initial mild refusal, Yamamoto had accepted the idea of me coming along.
He was a stubborn man.
Was he just sticking to his guns because he’d already given in once and didn't want to go back on his word?
Or did he actually think it was better if I came with him...?
I didn't know.
I’d never understood this man, not since the day we met.
...But unlike back then, I was in love with him now.
And the last thing I wanted to do was become a burden to him.
“Ugh... What am I supposed to wear...?”
“Do you plan on doing that until sunrise?”
Yamamoto’s gaze was chillier than I'd ever seen it.