I Want to Eat Your Pancreas c2

It all began in April, when the late-blooming sakura were still in bloom.

Medical science was advancing towards an unknown frontier. But I didn’t know any details about it, and I wasn’t interested in finding out either.

All I could say was that at the very least, for medical science, it was progress to give an everyday life to a girl trapped in abnormality - a terminal condition that interfered with her life and would end it within a year. Which is to say, humans had gained the ability to extend their human lifetimes.

I thought that it was machine-like to be able to move despite suffering from such illnesses, but something like my own impressions didn’t matter to someone that was actually afflicted with sickness.

She was - regardless of my unnecessary thoughts - fully enjoying the benefits of medical science.

That was why it couldn’t be blamed on anything else but her bad luck and the sudden turn of events that caused me, who should have only been a cla.s.smate, to find out about her illness.

That day, I took a break from school. It was because of my appendectomy; not the surgery itself, but the removal of the st.i.tches. My frequent visits to the hospital for follow-up treatment were coming to a close. I was supposed to have shown up late to school, but long waiting times at the large hospital had sapped me of any remaining enthusiasm for studying, and I remained loitering in the hospital’s lobby.

It was a trivial feeling. In the corner of the lobby, sitting on the lonely sofa, a book had been left behind. I wondered by whom it had been abandoned, as well as of its contents. My curiosity sparked by a love of books took over, and I started to walk over.

Weaving through the s.p.a.ces between patients, I arrived at the other end of the lobby and sat myself down on the sofa.

The book that I had noticed out of the blue was a 300-page long paperback. Its secrets were guarded closely by a dust jacket from the bookshop near the hospital.

When I removed the cover to check the t.i.tle, I was met with a little surprise. Beneath the dust jacket was not the original cover that should have been wrapped around the book - inscribed upon it instead were the words “Disease Coexistence Journal” handwritten with a thick magic marker. Of course, I’d never heard of the t.i.tle or the publisher.

I wondered just what it could be, but since I couldn’t think of a suitable answer no matter how much I thought about it, I flipped to the first page.

On the very first page, the words I saw were not printed in a typeface I had become accustomed to. They had instead been carefully handwritten with a ballpoint pen - which meant that this article had been written by a person.

“23rd November 20XX

“My everyday thoughts and activities in j.a.pan - I plan on writing them down in this disease coexistence journal. No one other than my family knows about it, but I am going to die in a few years. Having accepted that fact, I am writing for the sake of living with my illness. To start things off, pancreatic diseases like what I was diagnosed with a little earlier are the kings of sudden deaths. Even today, my symptoms were mostly unnoticeable……”

“Pancreas…… Die……”

Without thinking, words that weren’t uttered on a daily basis spilt out of my mouth.

I see, evidently, it seemed like this belonged to someone whose lifespan had been determined - a disease confrontation diary, no, a disease coexistence diary. It wasn’t really something that I should have looked at.

Having come to that realisation, I closed the book. Still seated down, I heard a voice from above my head.

“Erm……”

I lifted my head in response to the voice, my surprise not showing on my face. To my surprise, I recognised the face of the voice’s owner. I hid my emotions, thinking that she had approached me for something unrelated to the book.

With that said, even someone like me may have been in denial of the possibility that my cla.s.smate was shouldering the fate of having her life cut short.

Having been approached by a cla.s.smate, I put on an attentive look, quietly antic.i.p.ating her reply. She extended an arm to me, looking as though she were snickering at my response.

“That belongs to me. Mr Plain-Looking-Cla.s.smate, why did you come to the hospital?”

Incidentally, I didn’t know anything about my cla.s.smate except that she possessed a bright perkiness that was the ant.i.thesis to my usual silence. That was why I was taken aback that she could flash a brave smile in this situation, wherein a mere acquaintance like me had found out that she was suffering from a major illness.

Even so, I decided that I would pretend I didn’t know about anything to the best of my ability. I believed that for both her and me, that would have been the best choice.

“I had an appendectomy a while back, but I still have to go for treatment.”

“Ah, I see. I had a check-up for my pancreas. Otherwise I’ll die.”

I wondered why she said something like that. In no time at all, without noticing, she had crushed my consideration into pieces.

I observed her expressions, trying to no avail to read her true intentions. Her smile deepened as she sat down beside me.

“Were you surprised? You read it, didn’t you? The ‘Disease Coexistence Journal’.”

The girl said that, seemingly unbothered, acting as though she were introducing a recommended novel to me. That was why I even thought that she had been playing a prank and it just so happened that I, an acquaintance, had fallen for it.

“Hey, to be honest.”

See, I exposed the bluff.

“I was surprised. Thinking I had lost it, I came here searching for it in a huge panic, but it turns out that it was just with Mr Plain-Looking-Cla.s.smate.”

“…………What does it mean? This.”

“What does this mean? That’s my ‘Disease Coexistence Journal’. Haven’t you read it? It’s like a diary that I write because I know about my pancreatic disease.”

“……You’re joking, right?”

Even though she was inside a hospital, without any hesitation, she roared with laughter.

“Just how tasteless of a person do you think I am? I wouldn’t make that kind of dark joke, you know? Everything that’s written down is true - I can’t use my pancreas, and I’m going to die soon, yup.”

“……………………Ah, I see.”

“Eh! That’s all? Don’t you have anything else to say?”

Her voice trembled with shock.

“……No, but what should I say after being told that my cla.s.smate is going to die soon?”

“Hmm, if it were me, I guess I’d be at a loss for words.”

“Yeah. But if I weren’t silent, I’d want to a.s.sess the situation.”

She started to giggle as she said, “I guess that’s true.” I didn’t know what she found so amusing.

Immediately after that, she took the book, stood up, waved her hand at me and headed to the back of the hospital. “No one else knows about this, so don’t tell the cla.s.s, okay?” She said as she left. Thinking that I surely wouldn’t be having any more exchanges with her after this, I felt a little relieved.

Contrary to my expectations however, she called out to me on the very next morning, just as we pa.s.sed each other by in the school corridor. Incidentally, the distribution of duties was decided freely by each cla.s.s, and as a result, I was the only one to put my name up for the vacancy in the library committee. Though I didn’t understand the motives behind her actions, as someone who tended to get lost in the flow of things, I continued to quietly think about the work that would be a.s.signed to the new library committee members.

Thinking about it, it was all because of that one paperback that I was now standing in front of the station at 11am on a Sunday - you really don’t know how things will play out in this world.

Just like a reed boat that could not move against strong currents, I was unable to reject her invitation, or to be exact, I was unable to find the right timing to reject her - and as such, I now stood at our meeting point.

I would have been glad to renege on our agreement, but I spotted her in the distance, looking a little troubled - like she would ask for help or directions if anyone showed her weakness. Unlike me however, she would carve out her own path to break the ice - it would be no exaggeration to say that she was a reed boat that went against the flow.

I had arrived in front of the monument that marked our meeting point 5 minutes before the agreed time, and was waiting in a daze when she appeared right on time.

It was the first time since our chance meeting at the hospital that I saw her wearing casual clothes - simple items like a T-s.h.i.+rt and a pair of jeans.

She walked over with a smile and in response, I lightly raised my hand.

“Good morning! I was thinking about what to do if you went back on our agreement!”

“I’d be lying if I said that was impossible.”

“But the end result was all right, huh.”

“I get the feeling that your word usage is a little off. With that said, what are we doing today?”

“Oh, I see you’re getting fired up.”

She stared at me with a strong gaze before breaking into a smile, looking as if she had always been smiling. Incidentally, I wasn’t the least bit fired up.

“For now, let’s just go to the city.”

“But I don’t really like crowds.”

“Mr Cla.s.smate-That-Knows-my-Secret, did you bring the train fare? Could you take it out?”

“I brought it.”

In the end, I simply gave in, and we headed to the city just as she proposed. Just as I had feared, the giant station where various shops were cl.u.s.tered was fraught with thronging, cacophonous crowds. The mere sight made me shudder with apprehension.

As for the girl beside me, she didn’t look the least bit daunted by the large crowd. Was this person really going to die soon? Though such doubts did arise, since she had already shown me various official doc.u.ments, there was no room for suspicion.

After pa.s.sing through the ticket gate, she continued onwards, cutting a path through the unremitting waves of people. Somehow managing to keep her within my sights, we made our way to the underground pa.s.sageway where the crowd dispersed a little. Only then did she finally disclose to me our objective for the day.

“First off is yakiniku!”

“Yakiniku? But it’s still morning you know?”

“Will the taste of the meat be any different in the afternoon and at night?”

“It’s unfortunate, but rather than there being a difference, I just don’t crave for meat all day.”

“Then there’s no problem. I want to have some yakiniku.”

“But I had my breakfast at 10am.”

“It’s fine, since people that hate yakiniku don’t exist.”

“Are you even paying attention to our conversation?”

It didn’t seem like it.

With my protests having fallen on deaf ears, the next thing I knew, I was seated opposite her in front of a genuine charcoal stove. I really followed her like a reed boat.

The dim store wasn’t really crowded, and the individual lights s.h.i.+ning on each table made it unnecessarily easy to see each other’s faces.

In no time at all, a young waiter had kneeled down at the side of the table and started to take our order.

I left the ordering to her, and as if it was proof of her mastery of mathematics, she smoothly responded to the waiter.

“This most expensive one.”

“Wait a minute, I didn’t bring that much money.”

“It’s fine, since I’m paying. Two of the most expensive all-you-can-eat courses, please. As for the drinks, you’re fine with oolong tea, right?”

I went along with the momentum and nodded while she continued on like she was at home; the young waiter quickly repeated the order and left.

“Waaah, I can’t wait!”

“……Erm, I’ll make sure to pay you back for today.”

“I told you it’s fine, don’t mind it. I’m paying. Up until before, I was working too, so I have money saved up and it wouldn’t do to not use it.”

Before she died - though she didn’t say it, she must have meant something like that.

“That’s even worse. You should spend it on something with more meaning.”

“But there’s meaning in this - it wouldn’t be fun to eat yakiniku alone, right? I’m just spending money for my own enjoyment.”

“But you see-”

“Sorry for the wait. Here are the drinks.”

While I was starting my next retort, the waiter appeared with exquisite timing, carrying two gla.s.ses of oolong tea on a tray. It felt like she had summoned the waiter to end our talk about money. She giggled as a grin spread over her face.

The a.s.sorted meat platter followed the drinks a little while later. The beautifully arranged meat, frankly speaking, looked extremely tantalising. It must have been because of the so-called marbling. The pattern of the fat stood out vividly, and the meat looked like it would’ve tasted just as good raw, though the very thought would probably have been repulsive to many.

Once the cooking grid mounted on top of the charcoal stove seemed sufficiently hot, she s.n.a.t.c.hed a slice of meat between her chopsticks, laying them hastily upon the grille. The strip of meat began to sizzle as it fell on the scorching metal, giving off the signature, tantalising aroma of cooking meat - my stomach could but begin to roar in response. Since high school students in the midst of growing were unable to control their appet.i.tes, I started to cook the meat together with her. On top of the hot stove, the meat was cooked in no time.

“Thanks for the meal. Mmph!”

“Thank you for the meal. Hmm, well, it’s pretty tasty, huh.”

“What, only that level of excitement? Isn’t it super-duper tasty? Or do you think I’m just more sentimental because I’m going to die soon?”

No, the meat tasted really delicious. There was simply a gap in our tension levels.

“This is great. I wonder if the rich only eat food this tasty.”

“The rich don’t come to all-you-can-eat buffets, I think.”

“That’s true, it’s a waste for such good meat to be included in buffets.”

“Everything is an all-you-can-eat buffet for the rich, though.”

Even though our stomachs shouldn’t have had that much s.p.a.ce, the two portions of a.s.sorted meat quickly disappeared. She took the menu at the edge of the table and started scrutinising the add-ons.

“Is anything fine?”

“I’ll leave it to you.”

I’ll leave it to you - I found that such a phrase fit me pretty well.

The waiter, having spotted her signal from somewhere, promptly arrived at our table.

She casted a reprehensive glance at me for flinching at the waiter’s dedication, and proceeded to make orders with unprecedented eloquence.

“Giara, kobukuro, teppou, hachinosu, mino, hatsu, nekutai, korikori, fuwa, senmai, s.h.i.+bire.1”

“Wait wait wait, what are you ordering?”

It was close-minded of me to stand in the way of the waiter’s work, but she was spewing out words I wasn’t used to hearing, so I had to open my mouth.

“Kobukuro? Huh, a CD2?”

“What are you talking about? Ah, for now we’ll just have 1 serving of each.”

The waiter smiled in acknowledgment to her order and hurriedly left.

“Did you just order bees3? Insects can be eaten?”

“Ah, perhaps you don’t know? Kobukuro and hachinosu are the names of specific parts of a cow. Personally, I really like horumon!”

“You mean innards? Cows have parts with such interesting names?”

“Don’t humans have them too? Like the funny bone.”

“I don’t where it’s located, though.”

“Incidentally, s.h.i.+bire is the pancreas.”

“Could it be that eating innards is one part of the treatment?”

“I could just keep on eating horumon forever. If someone asked me what my favourite food was, I’d reply with horumon. I love innards!”

“How am I supposed to respond to your enthusiasm?”

“I forgot to ask for white rice. You want some?”

“I don’t.”

After a little while, the many dishes of innards she ordered arrived, arranged into a single set. The sight was more grotesque than I had imagined, and as such, I lost some of my appet.i.te.

She asked for some white rice from the waiter, and cheerfully started to arrange the horumon on the stove. Since it couldn’t be helped, I a.s.sisted her too.

“Hey, this is done cooking!”

Unable to stand by and watch as I didn’t do anything when the appearance of the horumon changed, she grumpily stepped in and placed the perforated white thing on my plate.

Since it was one of my principles not to play around or waste food, I cautiously brought it to my mouth.

“It’s delicious, right?”

Truthfully, the texture was good, it was fragrant, and it tasted better than I had thought it would, but the feeling that I did something I shouldn’t have rose up from my stomach, and I tilted my head to the side in apprehension. As always, she flashed a smile for some unknown reason.

I checked if she had any oolong tea left, then asked the waiter for another cup, as well as a little more of the normal meat.

I silently consumed the meat, and she, the horumon. From time to time, I would eat the horumon, and she would giggle and look at me with an annoyed face. In such instances, she would eat the horumon she had so carefully cooked with an “aah!” and the dissatisfaction on her face would clear instantly.

“I don’t want to get cremated, you know.”

While enjoying the yakiniku, she had clearly brought up the wrong topic for this location.

“What was that?”

Since there was the possibility of me mishearing things, I tried to get a confirmation, and she responded with a serious face.

“Like I was saying, I don’t want to be cremated. I don’t want to get roasted after I die.”

“Is that something you should be saying while eating yakiniku?”

“It would be as if I really disappeared from this world. Would it really be impossible to let others eat me?”

“Let’s stop talking about the processing of corpses while eating meat.”

“I’d let you eat my pancreas.”

“Are you listening?”

“It seems that some countries have the belief that the soul of the person that was eaten will continue to live on inside the one that ate them.”

Somehow, I mean, as usual, she looked like she hadn’t heard me at all. Or maybe she did but was disregarding me. I got the feeling it was the latter.

“Is it really impossible?”

“……It probably is. In terms of ethics. But in terms of law, I haven’t looked it up so I don’t really know.”

“I see, that’s too bad. So I can’t give you my pancreas, huh.”

“I don’t need it.”

“You won’t eat it?”

“It’s precisely because of your pancreas that you’re going to die. So that must be where the largest fragment of your soul is located. And your soul seems noisy.”

“That’s true.”

She cheerfully roared with laughter. She was already this noisy while living, so there was definitely no way the pancreas of this girl who had become an expert on the soul would not be noisy too. I’m sorry, but I’d never eat something like that.

If we compared, she had eaten much more than I did. She stuffed herself with meat, rice, and horumon until she said, “Ugh, it hurts.” As for me, I stopped when my stomach bulged out to the appropriate level - and I was satisfied. Of course, from the very beginning, I didn’t order more than I could eat, and I didn’t commit the folly of burying the table in side menu items like she did.

After the meal, the waiter took away the many empty dishes as well as the obsolete charcoal stove, and at last brought us sherbet as desert. The girl who had proclaimed “I’m not feeling well” and “it hurts” returned to life at the appearance of the frozen sweet. She took in a breath of fresh air, and as though her complaints were all lies, she started being noisy again.

“Don’t you have any dietary restrictions?”

“Just basic ones. But, even those were a result of 10 years of evolution of the medical science here. The power of humans is amazing, huh. We may suffer from illnesses, but they don’t threaten our daily activities at all. I guess that such an evolutionary pathway is directed at finding cures, huh.”

“That’s true.”

I don’t really know much about medical science, but this was one of the unusual cases where I agreed with her opinion. I heard from somewhere that in this world, rather than curing terminal illnesses, treatment is focused on helping people live with them instead. But no matter how I thought about it, technology that should continue to advance is still technology to cure, not a means to get along with diseases. However, even if we say that, we were aware that there was no way medical science was progressing on its own. For it to progress, the only means were to have those entering medical faculties study especially hard. Of course, she didn’t have the time to wait for that to happen. And as for me, there was no meaning in doing so.

“What’s next?”

“You mean in the future? I haven’t got it together.”

“I don’t mean that. Hey, I’ve been thinking about it since before, but don’t you think you’re putting me in a tough spot by joking like that?”

She gave me a blank look, then started to chuckle. She was a person that had intense changes in facial expressions. I didn’t think that she, as a living creature, was very similar to me. But it may have been precisely because we were different that our destinies were different.

“Nope, I didn’t tell anyone but you. Most would have just pulled back. But you’re amazing. You’re speaking normally to a cla.s.smate that’s going to die soon. If it were me, it would probably have been impossible. It’s because you’re amazing that I can say what I want to say.”

“You’ve overestimated me.”

Completely.

“But I don’t think so, since Mr Cla.s.smate-That-Knows-my-Secret doesn’t make sad faces in front of me. Or is it possible you cry for me at home?”

“I don’t cry.”

“Then you should.”

There was no way I’d cry. I wouldn’t do something inappropriate like that. I didn’t feel sad, and I especially didn’t want to show that emotion in front her. She didn’t show sadness, so it was inappropriate for anyone to do so in her stead.

“Backtracking on the conversation, what’s next?”

“Ah, the topic changed! Are you going to cry now? I’m going to buy a rope next.”

“No way I’d cry. A rope?”

“Oh, so you’re capable of wording things out in a manly manner huh. Could you be trying to make my heart beat faster? Yeah, a rope. For suicide.”

“Who would make a move on someone that’s going to die soon? For suicide?”

“I had thought that suicide would be fine too - to kill myself before the disease does. But I don’t think I’ll commit suicide anymore. I’m just buying the rope for the sake of mischief. Speaking of which, Mr Cla.s.smate-That-Knows-my-Secret is horrible! I may even be driven to suicide by the hurt.”

“Mischief? This talk about whether you’re going to commit suicide or not has become all jumbled up huh. For now, let’s just conclude this conversation.”

“That’s true, so have you had a girlfriend?”

“I don’t want to hear in detail how you were going to conclude this, so let’s just stop talking now.”

She looked like she was going to say something, so I took the initiative and stood up. I didn’t see the sales slip anywhere around the table, so I called the waiter to ask for the slip and indicated that we were ready to leave. She said “let’s go” while giggling, and stood up too.

Evidently she was the type of person that didn’t end any of their conversations with regrets. This was a convenient characteristic of hers that she had revealed. I thought that I should keep the initiative from now on.

After exiting the yakiniku store, we held our full bellies and went outside, where we struck by sun rays typical of summer brilliance. I narrowed my eyes on reflex. “The weather’s great. Maybe I’ll die on a day like this.” I had no idea how to counter what she had murmured, but for now I decided that ignoring her was the most effective means of opposing her. Just like how it was no good to look a savage beast in the eye - it was that kind of feeling.

We started to move toward the large shopping centre connected to the station after a light discussion - even if we called it a discussion, as you may have guessed, it was mostly just her talking. The famous home centre within the mall sold a variety of things, including the suicide-enabling rope which she so desired.

Though the shopping centre that we had reached with just a short walk was overflowing with people, there wasn’t anyone in the rope section of the home centre. Surely the only people that would pick out a rope on a day with good weather like this would be traders, cowboys, and dying girls.

The voices of children frolicking about could be heard from afar as I compared the sizes of nails a short distance away from her, who was consulting a young sales a.s.sistant.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for a rope that can be used for suicide, but I don’t really want any external wounds, so what type would be the safest for this case?”

I clearly heard the question that was asked by the girl who was weird in the head. I turned around to see the sales a.s.sistant’s clearly bewildered expression, which made me laugh just a little. After which, I realised that she had made another one of her jokes, vexing me. Something that was safe even though it was for suicide - that was the joke she had made. The sales a.s.sistant and I were both caught off guard and bewildered, but I put on a smile. I returned the nails of varying sizes into their respective containers one by one, then moved closer to the sales a.s.sistant and the girl who I could tell was laughing just by looking at her back.

“Sorry. She doesn’t have much time left to live, so she’s become a little weird in the head.”

I don’t know if the sales a.s.sistant was convinced by my lifeboat, or whether he was just weirded out, but he left us and returned to his own work.

“Argh, just when I was going to have the sales a.s.sistant introduce the products. Don’t get in my way. Could it be that you got jealous of the close relations.h.i.+p between me and the sales a.s.sistant?”

“If that could be called a close relations.h.i.+p, then n.o.body would think of making tempura out of oranges.”

“What do you mean?”

“I said something meaningless so please don’t pursue it.”

Even though I said something that I thought would annoy her, in one heartbeat, she started to roar unnecessarily with laughter like usual.

The girl, whose mood had become unusually good for some reason, quickly grabbed a rope and bought it together with a tote bag that had a cute picture of a cat printed on it. I then left the home centre with her, who was humming and twirling around the bag which she kept the rope in. Just how merry was she while leaving the home centre that it attracted the attention and misunderstanding of the people around us?

“Mr Cla.s.smate-That-Knows-My-Secret, what’s next?”

“I’m just following you around, so I don’t really have any objectives in mind.”

“Huh, is that so? Is there anywhere you’d like to go?”

“If I had to choose one, I guess it’d be the bookstore.”

“Are you going to buy a book?”

“Nope, I like going to bookstores even without a purpose.”

“Ooh, that’s just like a proverb from Sweden.”

“What do you mean?”

“I said something meaningless so please don’t scrutinise it, hahaha.”

It seemed that she really was in a good mood. I simply got annoyed. While expressing opposite emotions, we headed towards the large bookstore in the same shopping centre. Once we arrived, I walked towards the new literary books corner without any regards to her. She didn’t follow me. Having been given time alone for the first time in a while, I fully enjoyed looking through the paperbacks.

While admiring countless paperback covers and reading countless introductions, time had pa.s.sed imperceptibly. It was a sensation likely familiar to those who loved books, but it wasn’t as though all humans shared the same love for them. That was why I felt a little guilty when I checked my watch, and looked around the store for her. She was smiling as she browsed through a fas.h.i.+on magazine. I thought it was amazing that she was able to show her happiness even while browsing. I was unable to do that.

I approached her, and before I could call out to her, she noticed me and looked my way. I apologised frankly.

“Sorry, I forgot about you.”

“How mean! But well, it’s fine. Since I was reading a book the entire time. Mr Cla.s.smate-That-Knows-My-Secret, do you have any interest in fas.h.i.+on?”

“Nope. I guess I don’t really care what I wear as long as it’s inconspicuous and plain.”

“I thought you’d say that. I’m interested though. Once I become a university student I’ll drown myself in lots of sake - just kidding, since I’ll die soon. For humans, substance is surely more important than appearances, huh.”

“You’ve flawlessly made use of words in the wrong manner, huh.”

I looked around without looking at anything specifically. Since I thought that her remark may have attracted some attention. But it seemed like there wasn’t anyone around that had the slightest interest in the outrageous words of a high school girl.

Neither of us bought anything from the bookshop. In fact, we didn’t buy anything after that either. After we left the bookshop, on her whim, we entered an accessories shop and a gla.s.ses shop that caught her eye, but we left each shop without purchasing a single thing. In the end, the only things she had purchased were the rope and the tote bag.

Tired of walking, as per her suggestion, we entered a nation-wide chain café. The store was crowded, but luckily, we were able to find seats. While she waited, I went to order for the both of us. She wanted an iced café au lait. I ordered my own iced coffee with the café au lait at the cash register, placed them on a tray, and returned to our table. If you were wondering what she was doing while waiting, she was scribbling on the “Disease Coexistence Journal” with a pen.

“Ah, thanks. How much was it?”

“It’s fine, you paid for the yakiniku after all.”

“I really paid for it because I wanted to, so it’s fine. But I guess I’ll let you treat me to this much.”

Cheerfully, she placed the straw in the gla.s.s and sipped on the café au lait. Maybe it was possible that she already knew it was unnecessary to express happiness at every little thing. I was impressed that she was able to always look positive about something.

“Haha, do you think we look like a couple to the others around us?”

“Even if we looked like one, that’s not how we really are, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Wah, you’re really dry, huh.”

“If you think about it, any two-person group that consists of different genders could be a couple, and if it’s just appearances, you don’t look like you’re going to die soon at all. What’s important is not the views of others, but substance. Didn’t you say that too?”

“As expected of Mr Cla.s.smate-That-Knows-My-Secret, huh.”

Since she was laughing as she started to drink the café au lait, the sound of air bubbles escaping from her gla.s.s could be heard.

“And so, has Mr Cla.s.smate-That-Knows-My-Secret ever had a girlfriend?”

“Alright, break time’s over.”

“But you haven’t even taken a sip of the iced coffee.”

Evidently, the same trick wouldn’t work twice. Just as I was standing up, she grabbed hold of my arm. I wanted her to stop digging her nails into me. Perhaps this was her revenge for me cutting the topic short at the yakiniku store. Not wanting to incur her wrath, I quietly reseated myself.

“So? Have you had one?”

“Who knows.”

“Speaking of which, I feel like I don’t know a single thing about you.”

“That may be so, huh. I don’t really like talking about myself.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to get dizzy and overly self-conscious talking about something that no one is interested in.”

“Why did you decide that n.o.body is interested?”

“It’s because I don’t have any interest in people. Everyone’s the same - after all, people fundamentally have no interest in anyone but themselves. Of course, exceptions exist too. Even I’m a little interested in people like you that are suffering because of special conditions. That’s why I don’t really care to talk about something that no one gains anything from.”

I laid them bare to her – my usual thoughts that I felt line up neatly on the desktop as I stared at the grain of the table. This kind of theory, too, had been collecting dust at the very depths of my heart. Of course, that was because I hadn’t had a partner to discuss this with.

“I’m interested, you know.”

I brushed the dust off my theory, considered the circ.u.mstances and memories it involved, and found myself unable to understand her words. I finally looked up again, and was met with a sight that surprised me. Her vivid expression was conveying a single feeling. Even I, who was ignorant of others, could tell with just one glance how hard she was trying to hold back her anger.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m saying that I’m interested in you. I wouldn’t ask someone out to have fun if I wasn’t interested in them. So don’t make me look dumb.”

Honestly, I didn’t really understand what she was saying. Her reason for taking an interest in me, and her reason for getting angry - I didn’t understand them. And even more than that, I wasn’t making her look dumb.

“I do wonder from time to time if you were dumb, but I’m not making you look dumb, okay.”

“It may be just as you said, but I’m hurt!”

“Aah, I see…… Sorry.”

Without understanding the meaning behind her words, I just apologised. This was the single most effective method to deal with angry people, and I wasn’t unwilling to use it. And sure enough, just like other angry people, her expression began to soften even while her cheeks were still puffed out.

“If you answer properly, I’ll forgive you.”

“……You wouldn’t have more fun even if you heard it.”

“Just tell me, since I’m interested.”

Without me realising, the edge of her lips had curved upwards. I didn’t feel like opposing her, I didn’t have any way out, and I was a conformist, but I didn’t consider myself pitiable. I was a simply a reed boat.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to meet your expectations, though.”

“It’s fine it’s fine, so, your answer?”

“Probably from around elementary school onwards, I haven’t had any memory of having had friends.”

“…………Memory loss?”

“……Maybe you really are dumb.”

While I seriously doubted it, since it was possible that the chances of suffering from an incurable disease at her age were lower than getting amnesia, there may have been some justification for her remark. With the intention of retracting my previous statement, I clarified myself to her, whose face was easy to read.

“It means that I didn’t have any friends. That’s why, someone like a girlfriend that you’re asking about - of course I’ve never had one.”

“So you’ve never had any friends? Not just in the present?”

“Yeah, I don’t have any interest in people, so no one takes an interest in me either. It’s relieving not having to lose anybody.”

“So you’ve never wanted friends?”

“I wonder. It may be fun to have them, but I believe that the confines of a novel are more enjoyable than the real world.”

“So that’s why you’re always reading a book.”

“Probably. So this concludes our uninteresting talk about me. I’m just asking out of social etiquette, but what about you? If you have a boyfriend, rather than spending time with me, it would be better to spend it with him.”

“I had one, but we just broke up recently.”

She said that without looking the least bit dejected.

“Because you’re going to die soon?”

“Nope. I couldn’t possibly tell my boyfriend something like that. Since I didn’t even tell my friends.”

Then why would you openly tell me back then. I didn’t care to know and I didn’t ask. As usual.

“He, well, ah, you know him too. Since he’s in our cla.s.s. Though you probably won’t remember him even if I mentioned his name, wahaha. He’s erm, someone that’s really great to be friends with, but he’s no good to become lovers with.”

“So there are people like that.”

Not even having a friend to begin with, I had not known that.

“Yeah, there are. That’s why he broke up with me. It’d be great if G.o.d had put tags on everyone from the very beginning. Something like this person is only to make friends with, and that person is fine even as a lover.”

“I guess that would make things easier for me. But it seems that for people like you, it’s the complexity of human relations that makes it interesting.”

She roared heartily with laughter at my opinion.

“Seems like it’s just as you said. Yup, I guess I agree with you, so, I take back what I said earlier about the tags. You really understand me, huh.”

“…………”

I was going to deny it, but I stopped. I thought that it may be true. That was because I recalled the reason for it. I understood her.

“…………It must be because we’re opposites.”

“Opposites?”

“You are the opposite of me, so that may be why you think of the things I don’t seem to think about.

"You said something a little profound, huh, is it the influence of novels?”

“Probably.”

The truth is there wasn’t any need or plans for us to get involved with each other - it was as if we occupied opposite positions.

Until a few months ago, the only points of a.s.sociation between us were the fact that we shared the same cla.s.s, and that her noisy laughter would intermittently burst into my ears. It really was too noisy, so even though I wasn’t interested in people, her name came to mind immediately when I saw her at the hospital. The fact that it got stuck somewhere in my head - that must also have been because we were opposites.

While sipping her café au lait, she cheerfully mentioned “it’s good!” along with her other various impressions of the drink. I quietly drank my coffee that remained black.

“Ah, we really may be opposites huh - when we had yakiniku earlier, you kept on eating karubi and roosu. Even though it looked like you were going to start eating the horumon.”

“It tasted better than I expected, but in the end, normal meat still tastes the best. Willingly eating the innards of living things seems like something a demon would do, huh. Putting tonnes of sugar and milk into coffee is something a demon would do too. Since coffee is already perfect as it is.”

“Looks like your preferences in food don’t match up with mine, huh.”

“I don’t think it’s just food, though.”

We lingered at the cafe for another hour. The things we talked about in that time were extremely trivial. Life, death, illness, and our futures - we didn’t talk about any of that. Instead, our chat mainly revolved around her talking about our cla.s.smates. I did try to take an interest in them, but her attempt pretty much ended in failure.

I was interested in our cla.s.smates’ silly mess-ups and pure love stories to the same extent that I was not a person that only knew boring stories. She must have noticed those feelings that I had because I wasn’t a person that was able to hide their boredom either. Even so, I did take the slightest of interest in the expressions of a girl talking with all her might. Though if it were me, I wouldn’t have wasted my time or effort.

It was about time to head home - when that kind of mood, which I wasn’t sure who initiated, started to set in, I asked her about what I had been interested in.

“Incidentally, what are you going to do with the rope? You aren’t going to commit suicide, right? Though you did say it was for the sake of mischief.”

“I am going to be up to some mischief, but even with that said, I won’t be able to see the outcome, so Mr Cla.s.smate-That-Knows-My-Secret should verify it in my stead. You see, I’ll allude to the rope in the "Disease Coexistence Journal”, and then the people that find the rope will misunderstand that I was cornered to the point that I killed myself. It’s that kind of mischief.”

"How tasteless.”

“It’s alright, it’s alright, since I’ll clearly write that it’s actually a lie. It’s better to pick them up after they fall, right?”

“I don’t think that will make anyone happy, but maybe it’s better than nothing?”

I was appalled, but I found that her thinking which expectedly diverged from my own was amusing. If it were me, I wouldn’t bother with something like the responses of the people around after I die.

We headed for the station from the café, somehow managed to board the train despite the huge crowd, and while still standing, reached the town we lived in after a short talk.

Since the both of us had ridden our bikes to the station, we went to the free bicycle parking lot to retrieve them, and after walking to somewhere near our school, waved each other goodbye.

She said, “See you tomorrow”.

Since there weren’t any library committee activities tomorrow, I probably wouldn’t get to speak with her, but I still replied with a single “yeah”.

The road I was using to bike home was the usual road - I wondered how many more times I would be able to see it. Huh? It was strange. Up until yesterday, the fear that I would inevitably die and disappear was stirring within my heart, but now it had settled a little. Perhaps, because the girl I met today looked far from death, my sense of the reality that I would one day die had dulled.

On this day, I started to doubt just a little that she was going to die.

I reached home, read a book, ate the dinner my mother made, bathed, drank barley tea in the kitchen, greeted my father “welcome home”, and while returning to my room with the thought of reading another book, I received a message on my cellphone. I basically didn’t use my phone’s messaging function, so I thought the new message notification was strange. I flipped my phone open and learnt that the message was from her. Now that I thought about it, I remembered that with the library committee contact network and all, I had exchanged e-mail addresses with her.

I lay down on my bed and opened her message. Its contents were as such:

“Thanks for the hard work!! I tried messaging you, I wonder if it’ll reach? Thanks for going out with me today [peace sign] I had so much fun! [smiley face] I’d be really happy if you’d go out with me again [smiley face] Until I die, let’s continue to get along! Okay, goodnight! [smiley face] See you tomorrow!”

The first thing that came to mind was that I had forgotten about returning her the money for the yakiniku. Even if it was impossible to do so tomorrow, so that I wouldn’t forget, I recorded it down with my phone’s notebook function. Thinking of simply sending a reply, I reread the message.

Get along, huh.

Usually, I’d have kept on looking at “until I die”, her signature joke, but I was more interested in the part that came after.

I see, we were getting along.

I tried thinking through the entirety of today, and I thought that we probably really did get along.

I was going to message her what had unexpectedly come to mind as it was, but I stopped. I got the feeling that she would be disappointed if I told her.

I too had a little fun today.

What had been confined in the depths of my heart, I sent them to her in a message - the words “see you tomorrow”.

On top of my bed, I flipped open a paperback. The girl that was on the opposite side - I wonder what she was doing.