“Dinner is ready!”
Auntie’s call resounds around the room, making me jump a little. When I look up she looks completely relaxed, like she’s announcing something perfectly normal. Like this has just been any other day and not the weirdest day of my life.
Fujimura and I get up at the same time.
He moves a little slower than usual, but not by much. He doesn’t wobble. Doesn’t wince. Just rolls his shoulders once like he’s checking in with himself and heads toward the dining area.
I follow at an awkward distance, not wanting to lag behind but also not wanting to walk with him.
And yes, I’m aware I’m being slightly ridiculous.
We get to the dinner table at the center of the room. There are five chairs around it, the two closest to the sofa already occupied by Auntie and Shizuka-san. Fujimura takes a seat across from them and I follow his lead. The empty seat at the head of the table must be where Fujimura’s father – Fujimura Hiroshi – usually sits when he’s not away on business.
I wonder for a moment why they had an extra chair so readily at hand, but then remember what Auntie called it: “ ‘Akira-kun’s’ chair.” I log that away.
Then stop.
It doesn’t matter.
It will never matter.
So just stop.
Eat dinner. Get a ride home. Everything goes back to normal.
That’s the plan.
The udon is wonderful. Warm, delicious, filling.
Dinner so far has consisted mostly of stilted small talk between Auntie and an increasingly-aware Fujimura while Shizuka-san and I eat quietly. Every so often Auntie will try to rope me in and I’ll give some kind of non-answer and go back to eating. I feel a little more comfortable being here now that my stay is almost over, but I still won’t force myself to open up to them more than I have to.
It’s not like it would make any difference in the long run anyways.
The surprisingly chatty ex-patient is the first to finish his bowl, setting his chopsticks on top with a satisfying clink and sitting back. His face looks so relaxed, and I can feel myself tense up more. Fujimura has been physically present for almost an hour, but having him mentally present feels different. More dangerous.
He glances in my direction for a second.
Our eyes meet for half a second.
He looks away first.
“Are you feeling okay?” Auntie asks him.
“Yeah,” he says. “It’s mostly sore. But it’s fine.”
“Don’t push yourself.”
“I’m not.”
He sounds almost normal.
I didn’t realize how much of me had been braced for him to not be.
“Thank you for staying with him,” Auntie says suddenly, looking at me.
I blink.
“It’s nice to have you here again, Sakuragi-kun.”
“Oh. Uh.” I clear my throat. “Yeah, thanks. I’ve just been… busy.”
Shizuka scoffs. “For the past five years?” She’s not saying it directly to me, but she’s not quiet. And if I can hear it from diagonally across the table, then everyone else can too.
Auntie’s tone sharpens.
“Shizuka,” she snaps. “Don’t be rude to our guest.”
“How is he ‘our guest’? I think technically you need to be invited to be a guest.”
“I invited him,” Auntie replies.
Shizuka scoffs again. “Yeah, once he had already tagged along for hours. Before then he just invited himself along. What was it you said again, Sakuragi-kun? ‘To help’? Just how much did you ‘help’ by sitting in the waiting room?”
“Shizuka.”
Shizuka-san turns to her brother, and even trying not to look I can see his entire body tense up.
“You’re with me on this, right? Ren-kun?”
All eyes are on him. His eyes are on his bowl.
“I…I…” I can feel myself holding my breath, but he doesn’t get a chance to finish the sentence. His hesitation is answer enough, and Shizuka-san’s shock is already written on her face.
Shock.
Then Hurt.
Disgust.
And finally back to anger.
“Fine.” She pushes back her chair harder than necessary and stands. “Do whatever you want. But next time he tosses you aside, don’t come crying to me.”
With that, she stalks away from the table.
A second later, a door slams down the hallway.
A deafening silence falls onto the room.
For a moment, no one moves.
The room smells of dashi and tension.
Finally, Auntie clears her throat lightly. “She’s just tired,” she says, almost conversationally. “It’s been a long day for all of us.”
Fujimura nods once. Small. Mechanical.
I swallow another mouthful of broth that suddenly tastes like nothing.
Right. Long day. That’s all.
I set my chopsticks down carefully and put on my most convincing smile.
“Anyways. Um.” My voice feels so loud. “I should probably head home soon.”
Auntie blinks at me like I’ve just suggested we all move to Hokkaido together. (Separately, sure, but together?)
“Head home?” she repeats. “At this hour?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, if it’s not too much trouble to—” I clear my throat. “If you could give me a ride?”
There’s a brief pause.
Not hostile. Not tense.
Just… confused. That feels worse somehow.
“Oh!” Auntie chuckles, bright and uncomplicated. “Don’t be silly. Of course you can stay the night!”
Stay the night? Is she going deaf? Did I get possessed and ask the wrong question?
“I—” I start. “It’s really fine, I don’t want to impose—”
“You’re not imposing,” she beams. “It’s late, and your mother said it was fine. You can stay in Ren’s room like always, and I’ll drive you home in the morning.”
Like always.
“Like back then,” she means.
Some brave part of me considers bringing up that the words “stay the night” were not uttered in Mom’s and my text exchange, but honestly—what would be the point now? Intended or not, Mom is almost certainly asleep by now, and public transit won’t be available any more now than it was from the hospital.
Fuck.
To my left, Fujimura hasn’t moved. His hands are folded loosely in his lap. He’s staring at a spot somewhere near the edge of the table, like he’s still trying to catch up to what just happened.
He doesn’t object.
He doesn’t agree.
He just… sits there.
I wait for him to say something. Anything.
He doesn’t.
Sigh.
“…Okay,” I hear myself say.
My voice feels so small.
“Great!” Auntie says warmly, already standing to start clearing bowls as if this has been settled from the beginning. “It’ll be nice.”
“Nice”.
Right.
Eat dinner. Get a ride home.
I thought that was the plan.
Apparently, I was wrong.