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Marugame Seimen had raised its prices again. Shakur stuffed her mouth with a large bowl of udon and swallowed down the tears threatening to well up at the back of her throat along with the noodles.
It was good. The fast-food udon she had not eaten in ages carried the pleasant fragrance of wheat. The smooth stream of carbs traveled from her stomach straight to her brain and set off something close to narcotics in there. Beside her, Agnes Tachyon slurped her own noodles with irritatingly elegant chopstick work. Tachyon's bowl had shrimp tempura and sweet-potato tempura on top.
The timing had just been bad. That was what Air Shakur kept telling herself as she went on swallowing mouthful after mouthful. She was not talking about the price hike, obviously. For one thing, the last price increase at Marugame Seimen had been back in October. Over the past half year or so, she had been fixated on ramen whenever noodles came up, and had hardly eaten udon at all.
The chocolate still sitting in her pocket made a faint rustling sound. Every time she lifted a bundle of noodles, the wrapper crackled and asserted its presence. Because she had even bothered putting it in wrapping that did not suit her at all, the box had become absurdly large compared to the chocolate inside. She would have to throw it away somewhere.
If she had managed to give it to Fine Motion properly, what kind of face would Fine have made? She probably would have been delighted. She might have raised both hands and clapped a few light times, then picked Shakur clean off the ground. And then, beaming from ear to ear, she would have said: Thank you, Shakur.
Damn it. Tears were getting into the udon. With this, today's sugar, fat, carbs, and even salt were all already over the limit. There was no room left anywhere to give Fine the chocolate.
Tachyon choked beside her. Shakur ignored her and kept eating.
"Welcoooome!" "Thaaank you!" the staff called out again and again. The bustle of the restaurant, as if pointedly insisting Valentine's Day had nothing to do with it, was comforting to Shakur right now.
Air Shakur had always been bad with events. No—strictly speaking, "bad" was not quite right. If it was not someone's birthday or an anniversary, what exactly was there to celebrate? Valentine's Day and all the rest of it were just people being swept up into the confectionery industry's sales war, weren't they?
In Shakur terms, it was not logical. If what you wanted was sugar, the glucose tablets she always kept around were enough. Chocolate was too high in fat to take in large quantities. Event goods were expensive too. Several hundred yen, even several thousand yen, for a single piece of candy bean? Ridiculous. She could not see the point in people swarming over sweets that could be eaten whenever they wanted and fighting each other in department stores. In short, it was annoying.
And yet, every year, Shakur's shoe locker wound up stuffed with overflowing amounts of chocolate. Surely this year would be the same. She was already sick of it. Valentine's Day could go to hell. Shakur clicked her tongue loudly.
"My, my, that won't do at all."
"...This year, at the very least... why not prepare just one...?"
That had been the advice she got in Agnes Tachyon and Manhattan Cafe's shared room the day before Valentine's, February thirteenth. It had started when they asked what she was doing for this year's chocolates and she answered, Hah? I'm not buying anything. Because Shakur did not even lift her face from the monitor when she answered, the exchange only went back and forth a couple of times before Tachyon snatched away her laptop.
"Oi. Quit screwin' around."
"Ohhh, what a tragedy for dear Fine! To think she won't receive even a single chocolate from her girlfriend!"
"Hah? Fine's got nothin' to do with it. And don't yell that part."
Holding the laptop aloft with precarious hands, Tachyon put a theatrical accent on the word girlfriend. Shakur took the computer back with a look of disgust, but then she found herself wondering whether Fine would prepare chocolate.
"...I'm sure... Fine Motion-san is getting chocolates ready... for your sake, Shakur-san..."
"Hah? No way in he—"
Actually... maybe. No, if it was Fine, it was perfectly possible. Shakur always eats so many Ramune tablets, so maybe I should get her a refreshing chocolate♪ Fine might absolutely be thinking something like that. It was possible. Handmade was not even off the table. Without the first clue about how Shakur felt, Fine might be happily melting chocolate in the cramped kitchen of the Ritto dorm right this moment. Yeah. That was very possible.
Come to think of it, had Fine not been giving her some sort of chocolate every year even before their relationship changed from friends to lovers? Right. Shakur remembered. Last year Fine had forced a top-grade confection from her home country on her. Shakur groaned and tipped her head back.
It was not that Air Shakur wanted to make her girlfriend—whom she had not even been dating for half a year yet—sad. But her principles would not allow it. Naturally, she had prepared no chocolate at all. What would Fine say if told that? Would she be sad? Of course she would. She would absolutely be sad. But Valentine's Day had always meant to Shakur absolutely nothing—if anything, it stirred feelings close to hatred—and there was no way she could have something like chocolate ready.
"Hahhh..."
For several seconds she wavered between annoyance and obligation, then set the hand she had been flinging skyward against her forehead. It was the pose of surrender.
"...Cafe. Any place around here I can buy chocolate without too much trouble?"
"...If you go out toward the station..."
"Yeah, figures."
"Just like that," she muttered, then shut her laptop. Pulling on the winter uniform coat she had been using as a blanket, she checked the balance on her phone payment app just in case. Three thousand four hundred and something yen showed up. It was not much to buy gift chocolate with. Really, honestly, how did having a lover have to be this troublesome? Were feelings alone not enough?
"You two are comin' with me."
"Excellent!"
"...If possible... I'd also like to stop by the coffee shop..."
The moment before, Cafe had worn an earnest expression; now her blue-black tail was swishing happily back and forth. Tachyon was fussy about sweets, and Cafe had an eye for the real thing. Irritating as it was, they were dependable advisers for Shakur at a time like this.
"No detours. We're goin', we're buyin', we're comin' back."
"Ehh? How flavorless."
"There's no 'flavor' to shopping, moron."
"What did you say? It's precisely that sort of attitude!"
Ignoring Tachyon's noisy heckling, Shakur left the old prep room first. A winter wind whistled through the hallway. The dry smell of dead wood somehow felt richly earthy. The heat of the electric heater inside tugged hard at the hair at the nape of her neck. Feeling the temperature that had been searing her back, she found herself thinking something stupid—like how maybe it would be easier if they could just go back to before any of them had started dating.
The shopping mall was even more crowded than she had imagined, Valentine's sales reaching the final stretch. "Ugh," escaped her before she could stop it, as Shakur let out a sigh in a corner of the mall. The confectionery section in the basement was especially awful. Bright squeals echoed off the walls with the sound of footsteps. Apparently there were several special pop-up shops for Valentine's. The passageways were packed with lines of young women and Umamusume seen from behind. Reflected in their profiles was bursting, girlish excitement that made them look like young worker ants swarming sugar.
"...Actually, let's go home."
"I thought you might say that..."
Cafe said it with her voice filled with fear—not the same flavor of fear Shakur felt, but fear all the same. Cafe hated crowds too. At times like these, having a friend whose senses lined up with yours was convenient, Shakur thought.
This was the right level of distance. No need to spend extra energy being considerate, and no need to have consideration spent on you. The fewer resources required to maintain a relationship, the more ideal it was. To Shakur, human relationships were not natural waves that rose and fell of their own accord; they were geometric patterns built from fixed shapes. The overlap between self and other had no meaning. She did not welcome anything that fell outside her own predictions. Friends and lovers alike were merely differences in the pattern that floated to the surface after everything passed. What real difference was there between them?
"...How about that shop...?"
Having quickly given up on the confectionery floor, the three moved to a level lined with variety shops. The place Cafe pointed to was an inconspicuous store tucked into a corner, aimed at teenage girls. The kind of shop Shakur would never set foot in alone. The entrance was decked out in ridiculously cutesy character goods. By then, though, Shakur had reached the point of not caring anymore, and merely shrugged.
It was Tachyon who strode in without hesitation. Come to think of it, the underclassman rooming with this idiot had tastes rather like this shop's, Shakur thought idly. Reluctantly, she followed. But after they passed the corner crammed with pinks and purples, the inside turned out to be unexpectedly neat and simple.
"They also carry chocolate, apparently."
After speaking a few words with a listless clerk—part-timer or owner, Shakur could not tell—who was fiddling with the register, Tachyon came back over. Cafe, whose complexion had improved a little, let out a pleased breath.
"Good."
What exactly had been so good? Shakur had only the strange sensation that a friend who, moments ago, had seemed very close to her was once again drifting far away.
Feeling disgust at the pendulum swing of her own emotions, Shakur grabbed three boxes from the shelf Tachyon had indicated more or less at random. They were non-alcoholic chocolate bonbons. At five hundred yen each, they felt strangely light compared to her budget. Whatever. This is fine, she thought, practically throwing in the towel as she headed for the register.
"We do gift wrapping toooo."
"Then do whatever."
"All together in one package okayyy?"
"Ah, yeah."
She answered over the clerk's sticky tone—the kind that sounded like chocolate stuck to her teeth—because she did not want to hear it any longer. She paid electronically and got out of the store as fast as she could.
At that exact moment—
"Huh? Shakur?"
With three bodyguards in familiar suits beside her, Shakur's girlfriend herself appeared out of nowhere. The situation was so absurd that her ears and tail bristled. Why are you here? tried to rise to her lips, but she forced it down. Fine. Only breath, not voice, passed through her throat. The old pop song playing in the store froze in her head.
"What's wrong? Are you by yourself?"
"Hah? Uh, no, not really..."
One of the bodyguards shot Shakur a hard look. He probably knew about her relationship with Fine. Defiance—What do adults know?—and the shame of What the hell am I even doing? rushed up from the soles of her feet at once. Heat pooled in her heels.
"Well, well, if it isn't Fine-kun."
"...Good afternoon..."
From behind the suddenly rooted Shakur, Tachyon and Cafe popped their heads out. The instant Fine saw the two of them, her face broke into a smile bright as a princess who had just discovered a beautiful flower. It was the same smile she always showed Shakur. Fine never changed. Ever. With anyone.
"Waaah! So you two were with her too! Sorry, Shakur—am I interrupting?"
"Nah, it's not like you're interruptin', but..."
"Really? That's good! Listen, I'm just on my way to pick up the Valentine's limited brownies! Won't you come with me, Shakur?"
The words Valentine's limited clicked in the back of Shakur's throat.
"I'm not goin'."
"No? I'm sure they'll be delicious. And the shop is adorable too—it's decorated around the image of fairies in a forest."
"I said I'm not goin'!"
The force in the voice that burst out surprised even her. Startled, Shakur turned her face away, trying to escape Fine's gaze. She could feel those enormous eyes blinking at her in surprise. Behind her, a hand from Tachyon thumped her lightly in the back. Was she telling her to face Fine properly? What a pain. Every last one of them kept stepping outside Shakur's understanding whenever they pleased.
"...I don't care. Valentine's, brownies—I'm not interested."
"Is that so?"
Fine continued anyway.
"But that wrapping... isn't it chocolate? Are you giving it to someone as a present?"
She pointed at the unnecessarily cutesy package in Shakur's hand. Fine's flushed cheeks lifted with a soft little laugh.
Seeing that teasing smile, Shakur thought, I love that face. Yeah. She had wanted to give it to Fine. Fine probably wanted a Shakur who could say that openly—who could clumsily, earnestly throw her love straight at her. Impossible. Shakur did not know how to love someone that way. Please let feelings alone be enough. The pendulum spun wildly. Stay within the radial circle I've drawn for myself. Don't go beyond what I understand.
"Ah, Shakur?"
"My..."
"Shakur-kun?"
By the time she realized what she was doing, Shakur had already kicked off from the cheap vinyl floor and run down the escalator the wrong way. Carried by momentum, she slid all the way to the first floor. The people around them turned at the commotion like rustling wind. At this point, Shakur and Fine would never overlap, no matter what they did. A relationship whose feelings failed to overlap was not even friendship. It was not anything. Just nothing.
"You never used to be bad with gifts, though."
At the edge of a riverbank, Tachyon said it. The sunset, strangely red for winter, cast her shaggy chestnut hair in gold.
The wasteful meal still sat heavy at the center of Shakur's body, her stomach not yet done digesting the udon. She would have to burn off the calories she had taken in properly. But the legs meant for running still felt bloated with emotion, while the weeds by the riverside brushed her ankles. The smell of dead wood skimmed her nose. Somewhere, a child began crying. The sound of water rolled like waves in the winter river.
Shakur threw a few convenient stones into the river, then stopped when she noticed the weight in her arm. I lost, she thought. There was not a single thing she could do for Fine.
"...I don't know how to do... lover stuff."
"Oh?"
It was the first honest thing she had said all day.
What she really wanted was to take those graceful hands in cleanly, properly, with a heart exactly as it was. She should have said it from the very beginning: I'm bad at relationship stuff. I might not be able to meet what you want. Somewhere inside her, there had also been the spoiled assumption that Fine would surely accept that if Shakur said it. Ever since the day they promised each other something that was not friendship, that sense of indulgence had ruled the bottom of her heart. That something as flimsy as a verbal promise could bind her so tightly made Shakur laugh bitterly.
"More importantly—where the hell did Cafe go? Haven't seen her since."
"My lovely princess seemed quite unable to resist the limited brownies and left me behind to go on a secret date with your prince."
"Who're you callin' whose prince, dumbass."
"Moron," Shakur said through her nose, then tugged up a foxtail grass at her feet. At once, something rustled in her pocket. Ah, right. She had brought it after all. The real Valentine's Day was tomorrow. But now it did not matter anymore.
"Oi, Tachyon. You can have the chocolate."
"No thanks. That should be given to Fine-kun."
"...Hey. I've been wonderin' something."
"Hm?"
Tachyon answered in a voice that switched effortlessly between earnestness and easy familiarity. Was that absurd versatility just something she had been born with?
"I thought you were like me. But you're not. Why?"
The air was so dry that the embarrassing words slipped out and turned into winter wind with ridiculous ease.
"Ah."
Tachyon seemed to think for a moment, then lazily wound a strand of chestnut hair around her wheat-colored fingertip.
"I'm rather more of a romantic than you give me credit for. A 'special relationship' like being lovers excites me, to a degree. I'm the type who does not want to be stingy with effort when it comes to drawing out the face she'll make when she's happy."
"...From where I'm standing, you just cause Cafe trouble every damn day."
"And the fact that she accepts that is her love."
"Hah. Convenient."
"Exactly. Convenient. She is convenient for me, and I am convenient for her. If that weren't the case, a strange relationship like 'lovers' could never last this many years. Why not indulge yourself a little more too, Shakur-kun?"
Indulge yourself. Shakur rolled the phrase in her mouth. I'm bad at this lover stuff. Can I really take your hand properly? Can I return your grip? And in the end, can I let you go with a smile the way I should?
If only she could tell Fine that sticky uncertainty had been drowning her all this time.
"Look. My princess has returned."
Two black cars had pulled up on the riverbank, and from one stepped a Tracen Academy uniform. One was Cafe, happily clutching a bag from a coffee shop. And the other—
"Shakur! Come over here! I found the cutest cookies! I wanted to show them to you too!"
Waving with a smile as bright as summer, Fine looked like a real princess—and like a prince too. No. She was the real thing. Somewhere no one else's hand could ever reach, she kept smiling.
They went home alone.
Well—strictly speaking, one of Fine's bodyguards was surely watching from somewhere even now. Even so, Shakur looked Fine in the eye. There were moments she wished the whole world would disappear and leave only the two of them behind. The geometric pattern she had been so sure she'd drawn in straight radial lines was slipping farther and farther out of place.
A streetlight buzzed and came on. The dimming sky above made the cold asphalt smell rise.
"Fine."
"...This," Shakur said, then held out the chocolate package she had crumpled up inside her pocket. Ah, said Fine, as though she had been waiting for it, and her mouth slowly curved upward.
"Valentine's chocolate."
"I'm so happy! Thank you, Shakur. I'm really, truly happy."
The line sounded almost pasted on. And yet somehow it settled onto her completely naturally. That was what was so strange. Even lines that belonged in a movie suited Fine effortlessly. She lived inside brilliance itself. To start indulging herself now—there was no way Shakur could.
"Hey, Shakur?"
The voice came from much closer than expected, breathing right by her, and Shakur's shoulders jumped. She might even have yelped. She hastily smoothed down the puffed winter fur along the tips of her hair and pinned Fine with a sharp glare.
"What?"
"Sorry for teasing you."
"Teasing."
Shakur stared at Fine without really understanding the word. Fine's cheeks, pale in the night road, looked girlishly white.
"I know, you know. That you're bad at this kind of event, Shakur."
"..."
Fine's hair—white and chestnut mixed together at the front—fluttered apart in the wind.
"But you always keep your eyes on me with that vivid gaze of yours."
"..."
"That makes me really happy. That's why I teased you. I'm sorry."
"Fine..."
Don't go away. She could not say it. Why not indulge yourself a little? In the back of her mind, Tachyon—holding Cafe in her arms—laughed. Shut up. Leave me alone.
"You know, love means the two of you going capacity-over together, over and over, until you both get a little strange."
Fine's voice sounded like it might be trembling. Or maybe buoyant. Shakur dropped her eyes to her own feet. The udon she had overeaten still had not digested.
"You sure know a lot."
The moment the words left her mouth, Shakur realized she had made a mistake. The feelings she had meant never to let show snapped their thread and flew free.
"When you're gone next Valentine's, how the hell am I supposed to live? Birthdays, anniversaries, all of it. How am I supposed to get through any of it?"
"...So that's what you've been afraid of all this time, Shakur. I'm sorry. I didn't notice sooner."
Fine's hands wrapped around the chocolate in Shakur's own. Paper rustled against paper. If it was going to be a relationship that disappeared eventually anyway, we should have stayed apart.
"Was I at least a convenient enough lover for you?"
"I don't know whether 'convenient' is the right word. But I do wish you'd value yourself a little more, Shakur."
"...I don't get you. I don't get you at all."
From far away came the sound of a car—one of the bodyguards driving quietly through the middle of the residential district. Just a little longer. If only the two of them could remain alone together as girls in a blue, still-ignorant age, for a little while more. Even that tiny wish was probably impossible for Shakur and Fine. The height they had both gained since entering school had already reached the season when new growth begins.
"...But the real Valentine's Day is tomorrow. So we still have a little more future left."
Fine said it. They could not even hold hands. Only Fine's own hands, gripping the chocolate Shakur had given her, were chilled by the late-winter wind.
"...Hey, Fine. I, uh... ate way too much earlier."
"Hm?"
"I wanna burn another three hundred calories."
Fine's eyes, which had seemed closed like an actress's, flew open. They were bright—so bright—and trembled under the fluorescent light.
"...Okay! How many laps do you think that is?"
"Idiot. I can't run that much."
"Then I'll go get my shoes and jersey! You go change first, Shakur!"
"Ah—oi!"
Her tail, wagging happily, darted off past the dorm entrance. "Moron," Shakur muttered softly.
She had learned all of it through meeting Fine. The length of the pendulum called emotion. A lover's voice. Valentine's Day. Her own weakness, unable to lean on anyone. And the fact that, sometimes, even she had days when she ate too much.
"...Moron."
The word dissolved into the beginning of night. The pain of letting go—someday, she wanted Fine to be the one to teach it to her. No one else. You.