What Happened After Saying "I’ll Go If I Can" and Actually Going

“Shizuka? Are you back?”

At that call, the sliding door opened.

I felt the piercing gazes of the girls behind me.

Reluctantly, I turned back, just in time to see Tomomi, who had been slumped over the table, lift her head.

Her dazed eyes caught sight of me, with Shizuka standing close beside me (which could easily look more intimate than it was), and in the next instant, her eyes welled up with tears.

“Keisuke is… Keisuke’s cheating on meeeee!”

“I’m not cheating.”

With tears streaming down her face, Tomomi wailed, and I gave a resigned response.

* * *

“Ughhh, Keisuke, you cheater…”

“For the last time, I’m not cheating… Now, give me your keys.”

“Hmm? Keisuke, do you like clean-cut girls like Shizuka?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just take off your shoes. Hey! Don’t walk in with your shoes on!”

“Ughhh, so I’m not your type after all!”

“God, this is such a hassle…”

Supporting a totally wasted Tomomi, I somehow managed to get her to her apartment.

In a manga, this would probably be the kind of moment where a guy’s heart races from the subtle scent of a woman nearby. But in reality, she just reeks of alcohol. And her clinginess? Unbearable. How am I supposed to feel anything here?

“Alright, here’s your bed. I’m heading home now.”

“Mmm…”

“…Hey, let go of my hand.”

I finally got Tomomi to sit on her bed, ready to make my escape… except she wouldn’t let go of my hand.

With a slight pout and a sulky look, she gazed up at me.

“Keisuke… I’m not your type, am I?”

“Are we still on this…? Look, it’s not that you’re not my type, alright?”

The simple truth is, I just can’t see her as a woman.

Despite the unexpected way I ended up learning about Tomomi’s feelings, it didn’t make me suddenly view her any differently.

Honestly, I thought maybe I’d start noticing her as the opposite sex, but so far, there’s no sign of that happening.

(Maybe things would’ve been different if she hadn’t been drunk… but like this, not a chance.)

I glanced down at Tomomi with a bit of pity, and she, looking frustrated, muttered,

“Then… go on a date with me.”

“What?”

“Tomorrow, go on a date with me!”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

(I suppose asking for logic from a drunk person is pointless.)

“Go on a daaate with meeee!!”

“Ow! Stop it! Don’t yank my arm! Fine, fine, I’ll go if I can!”

As she pulled on my arm and threw a tantrum, I instinctively shouted back, finally breaking free from her grip. Tomomi blinked up at me with a slightly dazed look, then suddenly tilted her head and gave a sweet, trusting smile.

“Okay, I’ll wait for you to come then, alright?”

“!!”

At her words—full of both affection and trust—I felt my heart skip a beat, despite myself.

“W-well, anyway, lock the door and go to sleep, alright?”

“Mmm, goodnight…”

I quickly looked away, heading out of her room with hurried steps.

The night air felt oddly cold on my flushed cheeks as I closed the door behind me.

“Damn it, what’s up with this?”

Cursing the strange tickling sensation in my chest, I hurried home.

* * *

—The Next Morning

I found myself pacing back and forth outside Tomomi’s door before 9 a.m., feeling strangely uneasy.

“Damn it, why am I so self-conscious?”

Even though I told myself it was no big deal, the memory of Tomomi’s smile as I left kept flashing in my mind. The scene from last night hadn’t left my thoughts, and here I was, showing up this early.

“It’s just hanging out together, that’s all. And it’s Tomomi we’re talking about—nothing to be nervous about… Alright, let’s do this!”

Talking myself up, I gathered my courage and pressed the intercom.

“…”

But there was no answer.

Puzzled, I tried the doorknob, only to find it unlocked. It seemed she had fallen asleep last night without locking up. Careless.

“Hey, Tomomi? I’m coming in.”

Calling out as I entered, I walked toward her room… and there she was, sitting on her bed in the semi-darkness.

“…Whoa.”

Tomomi sat cross-legged on the bed, still in the clothes she wore yesterday. Her long black hair, usually tied back in a ponytail, hung down messily, with a strand caught between her lips. Her pupils were fully dilated, staring off blankly at a corner of the room, not even noticing me.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Kill me.”

“Yeah… definitely not okay.”

So, I came to pick her up for our ‘date,’ and the first thing she says to me in a low, deadly voice is a request for murder. Or perhaps, assisted suicide?

“Alright, start by blinking—your stare is seriously scary.”

“Oh, yeah? Kill me.”

“We’re not even having a real conversation here!”

“Kill me, and then die with me.”

“Unfair!”

Somehow, all my nervousness instantly disappeared. Last night’s feelings were definitely just a fleeting illusion. I mean, look, my heart’s still racing, but there’s no way I could actually be into this person.

(Hah… what a hassle.)

Inwardly sighing, I began to think about how I could bring my pitiful childhood friend back to her senses.

[The End]

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