You Came with the First Spring Breeze...

https://ko-fi.com/senna2003

Episode 3: Side – Nao: My Place

The dim light flickers, almost as if it will go out at any moment, flickering on and off. The wild insects are drawn to it, starting to gather, ready to begin their party.

The room is just at the top of a straight concrete staircase.

A cheap mint green door. The silver round doorknob looks like it could easily be undone with a thin piece of wire.

I insert the key into the lock and turn it to the right, with a satisfying click.

The door opens with a creaking sound, like a small animal squealing.

The air inside, warmed by the room all day, is hotter than the outside, making the day’s fatigue feel even heavier.

What weighs heavily on me is not the task of opening the window wide, turning on the kitchen fan to air out the room, or the general task of ventilation.

It is Tomo-kun’s words.

“He’s a criminal.”

Not just an affair, but a crime…

What exactly did Mita do?

I want to know, but at the same time, I don’t. My thoughts twist and turn, and my body moves according to the raw truth hidden deep inside.

I kick off my heels carelessly and step onto the lukewarm floor. Normally, I’d go straight to the refrigerator to drink some cold barley tea, but today I don’t. Instead, I look around the room.

Once, this had been my home, the place I shared with him. The memories have not yet faded and remain vivid.

The stuffed animals we struggled to win together at the UFO catcher, the photos of the two of us on the wall, the dinnerware we bought together—all of it is gone.

I’m reminded that this is no longer my place. I should have known that long ago, but…

I notice my belongings scattered about—my loungewear left on the bed, my stockings crumpled underneath, cosmetics carelessly lined up on the table, and a charger left plugged into the bedside socket.

I gather up what few traces of myself remain and throw them into a Chanel shopping bag.

Surely, Mita has his own reasons. Without hearing them and only listening to Tomo-kun’s side, I would probably lose my mind.

I need to hear it from him, the truth. I don’t need blunt truth, just a lie wrapped in sugar-coating, a fabricated story. I want to believe that.

I want to hear it from Mita himself.

Because my place—my real place—is with him.

I put away the dishes left in the kitchen, then sit down next to the table. I wipe the sweat from my face with the back of my hand, take my notebook out of my handbag, and tear off a sheet.

I write a message.

To Tomo-kun

I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I’m going back to Mita-kun.

Thank you for letting me stay and for everything you’ve done for me.

Take care of your girlfriend.

Goodbye.

P.S. I’ll leave the key in the mailbox.

—Nao

I place it on the table and leave the room. The door quietly closes behind me with a soft click, and I turn the key, drop the spare key into the mailbox, and hear a loud clang signaling the end.

This time, it’s truly goodbye, Tomo-kun.

I whisper it to myself as I descend the stairs, gravity pulling me downward. I retrace my steps back toward the station, walking briskly, occasionally breaking into a light jog.

When I reach Mita’s apartment, it is already dark, and the scent of dust rises from the asphalt.

I haven’t taken the key with me. I press the buzzer for his apartment number.

The red light indicating the intercom is on shines, and Mita’s voice immediately calls out, “Nao!”

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, unable to say anything else, looking down at the camera.

“I’ll open it right away.”

A moment later, the automatic door opens.

I step inside, guided toward the elevator. When I reach the fourth floor and exit into the hallway, Mita is waiting for me. He grabs my bags from me, then roughly pulls me into a tight embrace.

“I’m so glad you’re safe. Welcome back.”

His voice, filled with relief, tickles my ear.

“I’m sorry. I’m home now.”

“No, I’m the one who should apologize. I’m sorry,” Mita says, pulling my hand into his large one as he leads me to the farthest room.

Once inside, he gently sits me on the sofa and kneels in front of me, repeatedly asking, “Are you okay? Did you go through something awful?”

“I’m fine. I stayed with a friend,” I reply, and he finally looks relieved and says, “That’s good,” before standing up and heading toward the kitchen.

“You must be hungry. I’ll make something light for you,” he says, searching the fridge.

Seeming indecisive, he adds, “Or should we order takeout?”

“I’d like sushi,” I say.

“Sushi, huh? Okay, let’s order from Tsuru Sushi,” he says, pulling out his smartphone to place an order for two servings of special nigiri.

As he walks back and forth between the living room and kitchen, he orders, then heads toward the bathroom.

I take my phone from my handbag, check the screen, and notice a missed call from Tomo-kun.

It looks like he called to check on me, but there’s nothing left to say.

I dismiss the notification and grab a can of beer from the fridge, taking a gulp.

When Mita returns from the bathroom, I hand him a can as well, and we lightly clink our cans in a toast.

As I sit back on the sofa, my phone rings again.

Mita peeks at the screen beside me.

The caller ID reads “Ikehira Tomoya.”