Epilogue
About two hours after Nagisa and the others left, my phone vibrates, signaling a new message.
{Can I come over now?}
It’s from Akari.
{That’s rare for this hour. Sure.}
The time displayed at the top of my phone screen is past 10 p.m. My message is marked as read almost instantly. Akari probably knew I wouldn’t say no. Within seconds of the read receipt, I hear the front door open. Her footsteps, faster than usual, stop at my room’s door.
“What’s up? Coming over so sudden—”
As I open the door to greet my childhood friend, Akari steps in slowly and pushes me onto the bed.
“…You’re kinda warm.”
“…Just got out of the bath.”
“Got it.”
Her unusual demeanor and actions feel off, but I deliberately avoid asking why, opting for our usual meaningless banter.
“You can ask. No, please ask,” she says.
I was wrong, apparently.
“Something happen?” I ask, as she requested.
She turns her face, burying it in my chest, and after a pause, murmurs, “I was acting weird today, wasn’t I?”
“…A little.”
“Be honest.”
“Pretty weird.”
I tried to soften it for her sake, but she sees through me.
“Knew it,” she says with a small laugh, taking a breath before speaking again. “Seeing my childhood friend kiss a friend right in front of me… it’s bound to mess me up.”
Her words hit me, and I understand why she’s been off. At the same time, an image of Akari kissing Soma flashes in my mind.
…Awful.
“I asked you both if you kissed, but I kinda already knew. You two were acting strange,” she says.
“Sorry. If I’d been more careful, it wouldn’t have happened.”
If I’d secured the mask properly, the exam would’ve gone smoothly without any trouble.
“It was Nagisa protecting my secret, knowing about me and Dad,” I explain.
“You told Nagisa about Yuya-san?”
“Yeah, stuff happened.”
I gloss over the tension between us, and she murmurs, “I see,” her voice tinged with loneliness.
“Lost one of my childhood friend privileges, huh…”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Hmm…?”
She pauses, her voice soft, as if thinking.
“…Yuto, pat my head.”
“Why?”
Despite my confusion, I stroke her head, resting near my chest.
“That’s it,” she says.
“Got it.”
True, if anyone but Akari asked me to pat their head casually, I’d suspect an ulterior motive. Her oddly convincing words end the conversation, leaving only the sound of her breathing.
“…If you got a girlfriend, could I still be your childhood friend?”
Her voice trembles slightly as she asks.
“That kiss was an accident. It’s not like we’re dating or anything,” I say, shutting down the future she’s imagining.
“Even if it’s not Nagisa… would we still be childhood friends?”
I don’t know why she’s saying this, but I squeeze her hand to reassure her.
“Being childhood friends isn’t something you can change, even if you wanted to.”
Hearing this, Akari shifts, resting her face on my left shoulder and wrapping her arms around my neck.
“…Don’t change too much, okay?”
Her whisper in my ear feels a bit ticklish.
“People don’t change that easily,” I reply.
“Maybe,” she says, her voice carrying a hint of laughter.
“…”
“…”
No more words follow. We stay in this near-embrace, feeling only each other’s warmth and heartbeats for a while.
“…By the way, what do you think? I changed my shampoo.”
A gentle lavender-like scent has been teasing my nose. I tried ignoring it because of past incidents, but her words draw my attention to it.
“…Smells nice.”
What words won’t sound creepy? None, probably.
“A scent you like?”
“…Does my preference matter?”
Her relentless teasing by my ear makes my body heat up.
“Like it?”
I try to dodge, but she won’t let me.
“…I like it.”
I only said it’s a scent I like, but it feels embarrassingly intimate.
“Your scent fetish hasn’t changed, huh,” she teases gleefully by my ear, and I mentally wave a white flag.
“I kinda get it, though,” she adds, sniffing audibly near my ear. “I like your scent. It calms me.”
Her voice, returning to its usual playful tone, makes it impossible to push her away with my embarrassment. Instead, I decide to fight back, placing a hand on the back of her head and sniffing exaggeratedly.
“That tickles… but it’s fine. Do what you want,” she says, laughing softly, defenselessly trying to unravel my rationality.
Losing the will to resist, I surrender and let her take the lead.
Later, carrying a sleeping Akari, still clinging to me, to her bed in a princess carry felt far more embarrassing than this moment, I’d realize.
◆
The next morning, stepping outside while my body warms at the memory of last night, I find my childhood friend waiting with her usual smile.
“Morning, Yuto!”
“…Morning.”
Her anxious look from yesterday is gone. If anything, she seems in better spirits than usual.
“Thanks for carrying me home yesterday! Mom and Dad told me,” she says as we step into the elevator, which opens immediately for once.
“Yesterday, I was kinda worried, you know? Felt like you were changing so fast,” she murmurs, leaning against the wall as the elevator descends.
“No way,” I say.
What does she see in me? I can’t notice my own changes.
“No, you are,” she says, smiling faintly with a touch of loneliness.
“But I know it’s okay now.”
Stepping out of the elevator and through the automatic doors, she beams under the sunlight.
“I know you still like me, and that hasn’t changed.”
Humming, she walks ahead, the lavender scent carried by the breeze reminding me of yesterday.
Life goes on as usual. We go to school, walk home together, and after dinner, Akari comes over to play games. I don’t stop her or join, just do my own thing to pass the time.
Soon, Nagisa drops by after work, reading manga and occasionally commenting on Akari’s game screen.
It’s a fulfilling life, one I can appreciate. This space feels comforting.
Akari, apparently losing a match, dives into Nagisa’s chest for comfort. Nagisa accepts it with a mix of exasperation and delight, and as I watch them playfully bicker, something hits me.
“Oh, I forgot to tell Murai-san,” I say.
Akari lifts her face slightly from Nagisa’s stomach, glancing at me.
“Tell her what?”
“About Dad. I told Aida-san during the exam.”
“Oh, another childhood friend privilege gone…”
“Think of it as gaining more friends to share the secret with,” I say dryly to her exaggerated slump.
She laughs lightly. “Kidding.”
“Plus, I’ve got a hundred more childhood friend privileges!”
Her dramatic declaration, made while clinging to Nagisa with her face buried in her stomach, sounds like a joke.
Ignoring her, I return to my novel, hearing her disgruntled “Hmph…”
“Oh, and don’t tell Hinata-chan,” Akari says, standing after pulling away from Nagisa.
“She’d probably say, ‘Please don’t tell me such a big secret!’”
Her impression of Murai-san, if that’s what it is, is barely 30% accurate.
But it hits Nagisa’s funny bone, and she bursts into laughter, wiping tears after a few seconds. “But,” she says, “Hinata might actually say that.”
“If you both think so, then yeah,” I say.
Impression aside, if two people close to Murai-san agree, it’s probably best not to tell her. Aida-san was overwhelmed by the secret’s weight, and some personalities might genuinely struggle with it.
Akari returns to her game.
Nagisa, glancing at her manga, chuckles softly, perhaps recalling the earlier moment.
Feeling this happiness, we’ll keep living like this tomorrow, I think vaguely, watching them.
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