Chapter 12: The Reason for the Static

“This one, and thiiis one, and this!”

“…Hea…vy.”

“No no, it’s heavy but light! Dazai’s literature isn’t just depressing, you know? In his short story collections, like The Lantern or Shame, there’s this punchy speed to them—it’s almost like a Dazai-style Gag Manga Biyori! Since we’re here, you have to read them. So here, some more!”

That’s not what I meant—I mean it’s literally heavy!

How much does she think my arms can carry!?

“…Don’t need them.”

“You do need them—and Dazai’s right here, too!”

I’m not talking about Dazai, I’m talking about the physical weight of the books!

I want to say that, but my mouth…

“…Don’t want the books.”

…Not quite what I meant. Still off.

But Futaba-san didn’t seem bothered at all—she just kept smiling.

An invincible kind of smile, but different from her usual kind.

“Yeah, I guess once Dazai starts living in your heart, you won’t need the books anymore~”

Seriously, why am I even here?

I was heading to the rooftop like always, and then out of nowhere, Futaba-san swooped in with that sparkling smile of hers and dragged me to a bookstore—and now I’m being buried alive in Dazai.

Honestly, it felt halfway like I was undergoing some Edo-period torture where they piled stones on you—because it’s that heavy…

“…Futaba, I’m going home.”

For one, I don’t even have the money to buy all these books. I tried saying so, but somehow it got reinterpreted as me saying I’m heading home.

“Tsk-tsk, Tsubasa, don’t be so hasty. I think if you don’t make him sweat a little more, he won’t take things seriously either, you know?”

“…?”

But of course, she wouldn’t let me off that easily.

She grabbed my hand tight—and there was no escaping.

…He won’t take things seriously? What’s that supposed to mean?

Is this another one of those all-pervading, Dazai-esque metaphors she’s always talking about?

“Well, you’re right though. You probably can’t read this many all at once. So how about just one recommendation—would you read that?”

“…Which one?”

“Just give me a sec—I’ll tidy these up!”

Futaba-san quickly and efficiently cleared away the stack of books, until only one remained in her hand.

It was…

“Schoolgirl?”

“Yup. Technically, it’s a short story collection that includes Schoolgirl, among others.”

A single paperback—the title read Schoolgirl.

“When you ever find yourself not understanding what’s going on in a girl’s head—give it a read!”

“…Okay.”

That’s all I could really manage to say. Kind of indifferent, but I meant it.

Anyway, since we’ve come this far, I figured, might as well. So I went ahead and bought it.

I’d been thinking of reading some of Dazai’s work anyway, and this just felt like good timing.

“Honestly, I could’ve bought it for you as a present, you know?”

“…No need.”

Probably her way of spreading the gospel of Dazai, but still. There’s no real reason she should go that far. Though I’ll admit, the recommendation was helpful.

“Well then, shall we keep walking?”

“…Wait, we’re not heading home?”

“Nope. Actually, this whole Dazai pilgrimage was just a bonus. The real plan starts now. …Think you could hang out a little longer, Tsubasa?”

With a sparkle in her eye, Futaba-san peered up at my face.

Playful, cheerful, almost teasing eyes.

The kind of gaze I’d never really seen before—it made my heart skip a beat, just a little.

“…Do whatever… you want.”

…It’s not like I was charmed or anything!

She just gave me a book rec, and I didn’t want to go home right after, that’s all!

“Yay, Tsubasa’s so sweet and agreeable! Okay, let’s keep the date going!”

Yeah, sure, let’s keep going, the date—

…Wait, date!?

---

—And somehow, the two of us ended up sitting on a bench, eating crepes.

Strawberry crepes. The moment you bite into them, the taste of strawberries and cream spreads through your mouth, packed full of deliciousness.

But… they were kind of hard to eat. I ended up getting cream on my cheek and stuff.

…With a small mouth, this is actually a pretty hard food to eat. It’s super tasty though, so it’s totally worth it.

“Hey Tsubasa, look this way~”

Just as I was struggling not to let the cream fall to the ground, a bright voice called out to me.
When I turned, there she was—Futaba-san, beaming with the biggest smile, holding a handkerchief at the ready.

“I’ll wipe off the cream for you.”

“…Don’t need it.”

“Ah—nope! No licking your lips!”

I was about to deal with it myself, but she had no mercy.
Before I could react, she went at my mouth with the handkerchief, scrubbing me like I was some kind of kid.

…Th-this is kinda embarrassing, you know?

“All clean now! Geez, Tsubasa, you’re just like a baby~”

“I’m not a baby.”

That’s… actually the first time anyone’s called me that.

I mean, I know I’m not a baby—but still, as I chomped down the rest of the crepe, the cream splattered again.

…Seriously, I’m not a baby. Really.

“That right there is exactly what I mean, Tsubasa!”

Smiling all the while, Futaba-san went ahead and wiped me down again like it was the most natural thing ever.
It’s hard to argue when she’s like this—and that just makes it even more frustrating.

“…I mean, I could’ve just licked it off for you, you know?
But like, if I went that far, it’d totally cross the line and I’d probably get murdered~ so I held back.
So, you should praise me, Tsubasa!”

…Why’s she suddenly talking about getting murdered?

If I really look like someone that dangerous, I’d like to file a formal objection.

…Though, if she had done that, I probably would’ve freaked out from embarrassment.

Futaba-san, who had made my brain go all mushy, was now checking her compact mirror like nothing had happened.

It makes sense to want to check for cream on your face—girl stuff and all—but still, it felt a little unfair.

“Hey, Tsubasa. Was the crepe good?”

“…It was okay.”

“Ugh, you’re never honest~!”

Looked like she’d finished her crepe too.
She suddenly bounced up from the bench and grabbed my hand again.

I mean, I wasn’t gonna run away anymore or anything…
But when I saw how happy she looked, I couldn’t help but think, Well, whatever. It’s fine.

She started walking briskly, so I had to pick up my pace to keep up.
I had no idea where we were going.

Futaba-san today was… seriously, way too free-spirited.

---

—And just like that, we found ourselves strolling slowly along the riverside at dusk.

Her machine-gun chatter from earlier had faded away.
Now, Futaba-san spoke quietly—one word at a time, like ripples on the surface of water.

About Futaba-san, and about today.

“Do you know what bipolar disorder is?”

“……”

I shook my head slightly, and Futaba-san murmured, “Maybe that was a harsh way to put it.”

“To say it in a way that’s easier to understand: manic depression. High days and low days. Life swings from one extreme to the other, day by day.”

It was such a sudden confession.

Instead of the cheerful smile she always wore, she gave a faint one—like she was a little tired. It didn’t really suit today’s Futaba-san, or yesterday’s. And yet, it oddly fit her somehow.

“That’s who I am. I usually keep it under control with medication. Today was a high day. Tomorrow will probably be a low one. If I don’t take my meds, it gets so hard that I don’t feel like doing anything—I just end up lying down all day.”

Futaba-san said it like it was the most normal thing in the world. Then she laughed again, a light-hearted giggle.

…Even though there’s no way it was fun, it was just a front.

It made my chest ache, just a little.

So that’s what was going on, I thought.

She always looked expressionless because the medication was suppressing everything. It wasn’t that she wanted to be like that. And now I understood.

…But then, why didn’t she take her meds today? Is it okay not to take them on energetic days?

“Why…?”

“Hm? What’s up, Tsubasa?”

“…You’re… energetic… today.”

This time, I didn’t twist my words. I just asked her what I wanted to ask, honestly.

Then Futaba-san gave a different kind of smile than before—a loose, lazy one.

“──That’s because I was thinking I’d ask you out on a date, Tsubasa.”

“Me…?”

“Now that you mention it, you’re a boku-ko, huh? That’s cute.”

With that soft, dopey smile, Futaba-san reached out and started patting my head.

Her touch was so gentle, like she was combing through my hair. I couldn’t bring myself to dislike it—I couldn’t move. I just let it happen.

“You know, when I first saw you, I wondered if maybe you were like me… a kindred spirit.”

And as I sat there, letting her do as she pleased, I listened to her words—because she’d finally started explaining why she’d been so kind to me all this time.

“Expressionless. Unshaken. Distant. I wondered if maybe you were on meds too.”

“…I’m not.”

“Yeah, I figured that out after watching you for a while. Tsubasa’s just naturally expressionless.”

Yeah, this expressionlessness is the real deal.

And I kind of like that about myself.

“But you showed interest in Dazai, and you’ve stuck with me through all my rambling. That first impression I had of you, along with everything since… it just made me feel like I really do want to be friends with you.”

“…Yeah.”

So that’s it. Futaba-san might’ve started noticing me because of a misunderstanding, but even now—knowing the real me—she still wants to be friends. …Somehow, that’s kind of embarrassing.

“That’s why… I wanted to be someone who could help you when you’re struggling—I wanted to be your friend. That’s why I asked you out today, to start this little ‘date’ of ours.”

“Help me…?”

But something about that explanation just didn’t add up.

She said she knew I was having a hard time because of Kishine-san, and that’s why she invited me out like this? Even so, I couldn’t help but think—why?

Was it supposed to be like… let’s go have fun and forget all your worries? …If that’s what she meant, then I’m sorry. I just can’t. That’s impossible for me.

It was fun, and I was really happy to hang out after school with a friend. But even so, in the back of my mind, I kept thinking…

“Hey, Tsubasa.”

Before I realized it, Futaba-san’s face was right in front of mine.

So close I could feel her breath, and her presence was so intense, it nearly startled me.

I tried to reflexively lean back, but I couldn’t. ──Because Futaba-san had her hands on my shoulders.

“…What… are you doing?”

Futaba-san whispered softly into my ear.

“──Call me ‘Master.’ Just try it. I bet something really fun will happen.”

A chill ran down my spine, like I was caught in something dangerous.

From the tone of her voice, I could imagine she was wearing a grin like the Cheshire Cat.

And besides… I haven’t even been able to call Kishine-san that yet. So I tried to say no.

“…I…”

I was about to say I can’t.

──And then, in that moment.

“──Step away from Tsubasa-chan.”

A cold voice rang out—like a winter breeze.

My body flinched involuntarily, and Futaba-san’s hands let go of my shoulders.

“…Kishine…”

I turned to see Kishine-san standing there, silhouetted by the sunset, her face completely expressionless—like she’d swapped places with Futaba-san.

“Heh, I’ve been waiting, lesbo.”

“…Don’t use that ridiculous nickname in front of Tsubasa-chan!”

But that blank expression quickly shattered.

What replaced it was a glare so sharp, it looked like it could cut through steel.

I had no idea what was going on, or how things had turned out this way.

But there was one thing I did understand.

──Kishine-san just called me Tsubasa-chan!

Kishine-san was angry.

And I knew—I knew I shouldn’t be feeling this way when she’s upset…

But…

I’m sorry, Kishine-san.

Even so… being called Tsubasa-chan made me really, really happy.