I took a moment to reflect on what Shiho-chan had told me.
Why had Yamamoto thrown himself so completely into that school festival back then?
Why had he left his family behind to move to Tokyo?
And why was he so loath to return home?
I had to admit, Shiho-chan’s theory made sense. From his perspective, it was only natural that he wouldn’t want to force himself back into a house where he felt like an outsider.
To think Yamamoto had such a past...
First there was the revelation that he and Akari had dated. Then there was this. In the end, it turned out I didn't know the first thing about him. It was a shock, honestly—realizing how little I knew about the man I thought I loved with all my heart.
But I shouldn't let myself dwell on that.
Yamamoto would probably just tell me it was a good thing. "Now you know what you don’t know," he’d say. "And once you know that, you can figure out the best way to handle it."
...No, something was wrong.
I rested my chin in my hand and frowned.
"Megu-chan, what’s wrong?"
"I was just thinking something feels a bit off."
"Like what?"
If she asked me what... well, to put it simply, it was about Yamamoto. For some reason, I was sensing a disconnect. A moment ago, her explanation had seemed plausible enough given his situation, but the more I chewed on it, the more the pieces refused to fit.
Because, well... Yamamoto was meticulous and obsessive to a fault, but he was also surprisingly pragmatic. Would a guy like him really avoid his childhood home just because he didn't share his father's blood?
I wasn't trying to downplay the weight of it, of course, but this was Yamamoto we were talking about. This was the man who had told me—a victim of domestic violence—to stand up and confront my problems. Even when I was struggling with issues most people wouldn't want to touch, he had stepped in.
"Changing One's Mindset."
That was Yamamoto’s mantra, his golden rule. It was the thing he valued most. Would a man with that kind of mental fortitude really stop visiting his family just because he wanted to keep them at arm's length?
That was the source of my doubt.
He was a man who was easily misunderstood. At the same time, he was a man who found the effort of clearing up those misunderstandings to be a hassle. He was the kind of person who could casually write off a relationship if it was brittle enough to be broken by a simple misconception.
That was why I had a feeling Shiho-chan was misreading him completely.
However, if that was the case, it left a massive question. If everything Shiho-chan said was a misunderstanding, then why did Yamamoto stay away?
I didn't know. Only Yamamoto knew the answer to that.
But I wanted to know. It was a delicate subject, but I had to know. I was going to find out.
I liked to think I was a woman who could be considerate of others. Sure, there were times during my high school days when I’d lacked a bit of tact, but fundamentally, I tried to be thoughtful. Yet, when it came to him, my self-restraint vanished. I just wanted to know more about him—it was as simple as that.
And besides... I knew that if it was me asking, he would answer. I trusted him implicitly.
"That was a good shower."
Yamamoto had just stepped out of the bathroom.
"Yamamoto."
"Yeah?"
"I want to go to your room. Just the two of us."
Yamamoto’s mouth fell open. He stood there for a moment, looking a bit flustered as he tried to dry his wet hair.
"Alright," he finally replied, sounding a little hesitant.
"Then let's go."
I turned around to see Shiho-chan standing there. She was covering her mouth with both hands, her cheeks bright red.
"Sorry, Shiho-chan. See you later."
"Ah... y-yeth!"
Shiho-chan’s reply was dazed, her mind clearly elsewhere.