Chapter 12
ONCE WE WERE FINISHED shopping, we exited the building and gazed up to see that the sun overhead had already begun to set, casting long shadows over the narrow city streets that made downtown feel more claustrophobic than it already was.
“Wonder what Mai-san’s got planned next,” said Hibiki. “Did she tell you?”
“Nope,” I replied. “Just said I could get in touch with her if something came up. But I’m guessing since you’re still around, she’s probably planning for us all to go out for dinner or something. You got anything going on after this?”
“Nope, I’m free all night. Sounds like we should probably reach out to her, then. Especially since something did kind of come up—to put it mildly.”
He flashed me a sardonic smirk.
“Yeah,” I said. “Although, I’m really sorry, Hibiki—I kind of wanna talk to Mai alone for a second. Do you mind waiting in the wings for a little bit?”
Obviously, I knew he couldn’t say no to this.
“Sure thing,” he answered. “Definitely thank her for everything on my behalf too, while you’re at it. Maybe I’ll go try to hunt down Karin or something in the meantime.”
“Pretty sure they’re both camped out in the same place, so you might wanna go check in that general direction,” I suggested. “Just look for a guy with the beard—can’t miss it.”
He laughed, then waved me goodbye for now and walked off. I remained standing in front of the building and shot Mai a quick LINE message. She responded almost immediately and asked if I wanted to go sit down somewhere and chat over coffee or something, but I declined on the basis that I didn’t want to keep Hibiki waiting too long. I knew that if we sat down, we’d probably end up having a much longer discussion.
Since Mai didn’t want to just talk on a random sidewalk, she told me to meet her instead at an open plaza in front of a large nearby event facility, just one street and one set of train tracks away. She probably chose an open area with good visibility so she could see right away if anyone we knew came walking by. She was a pro like that.
I didn’t know where on earth she’d been waiting, but somehow she managed to beat me there, even though it was only a five-minute walk for me. She was still wearing the same outfit she’d been wearing all day, minus the hat. There was no one else in the plaza but us, thankfully.
I took my hands out of my coat pockets as I walked up to her. With each step I drew closer, my thoughts fluctuated back and forth as to what my first words should be. However, only when I came to a stop in front of her and looked into her eyes did I ultimately land on what was probably the single most disrespectful option.
“Hibiki is my friend,” I said.
I could tell from her expression this was all that needed to be said.
I was certain we both knew exactly where the other stood. We simply were never going to see eye to eye on this issue, period. So, in truth, there wasn’t really much point in talking about it further. But even knowing it was entirely unnecessary, I needed to explain myself. To forcibly cast aside that cowardly perceptiveness I’d cultivated in adulthood to simply guess how the other person felt without either of us saying a word.
“So, no—there’s nothing there,” I continued. “And I know that’s not the answer you were hoping for, before or now. And I’m sorry about that.”
I could tell that Mai felt the same as I did about actually having this conversation. Especially because she didn’t immediately back down and let it go.
“But didn’t you say he’s the person you feel safest around?” asked Mai.
“I thought about it,” I insisted. “Really, I did.”
Maybe not as much as she hoped I would. But I did genuinely try.
“I wanted to give the idea an honest chance,” I said. “I even sat myself down and tried to seriously reassess what love even means to me, fundamentally, which is something I haven’t felt so conflicted about since I was in high school or college.”
And in doing so, I finally realized what the biggest difference was between the way I viewed things and the way everyone else who participated in this today most likely did. Hell, it was possible this disparity existed even between me and Hibiki, which might explain a few things.
“For me,” I said, “simply feeling a sense of security around someone isn’t the same thing as love.”
I was effectively spitting in the face of the promise my past self had made, which she’d been holding on to for nearly ten years now—and by extension, rejecting her and everyone else’s wishes for something to blossom between me and Hibiki someday. So, I could totally understand where she was coming from when her tone suddenly turned much more desperate and forceful.
“But there has to be some sort of affection there for you to feel that way, right?!” Mai questioned. “I mean, haven’t you ever gone out with someone before where you weren’t entirely sure how you felt at first, but still gave him the benefit of the doubt, and then ended up naturally developing romantic feelings for him later?”
“I have,” I said. “Several times, in fact.”
“Then why can’t you—”
I knew my next words were going to sound disrespectful too—this time to all of the time and effort Karin and I had put in over the past few months for this operation, and to the feelings Hibiki had been harboring for me for years. But I couldn’t help it, not without being completely dishonest about how I really felt, at least.
“You want to know what the difference is?” I asked. “It’s that all of those guys actually confessed to me.”
Growing up, I probably would have laughed at the notion that you could end up falling for someone simply because they told you they had feelings for you. But now that I was older, and a bit more eloquent when it came to boiling these things down succinctly, I realized that maybe it really could be that simple, in a lot of cases.
“I have a lot of respect for people who are willing to put themselves out there, despite the obvious fear of rejection, and tell someone exactly how they feel,” I said. “It makes me want to learn more about them, and what it is they like about me to begin with. And in the process of getting to know them, you start to get little glimpses of who they are deep down. Which, at least in my experience, often ends up with you realizing they’re a much cooler and more attractive person than you ever would have thought. And then, before you know it, boom—you’re the one who ends up being head over heels for them.”
And yes, I still remembered what Karin said about how romantic confessions weren’t something most people did anymore once they were grown up.
“If you wanna call that a childish approach to love, then feel free,” I continued. “But the simple fact of the matter is I’m just not gonna go confessing to the friend I feel safest with, and Hibiki sure as hell isn’t gonna confess to me either. Which means there just won’t ever be an opportunity for any sort of romance to bloom between us. Simple as that.”
I didn’t think Mai and the others were doing anything wrong, for the record. It was totally understandable why: When they’d see how close we were, they’d think we were meant for each other and then want to create an opportunity for us to spend the rest of our lives with each other. There wasn’t anything weird about that at all, in my view. What wasn’t okay, however, was me taking matters into my own hands, and trying to reach in and forcibly pluck out the tiny seed of romantic possibility buried between us before it had shown even the slightest hint of sprouting.
“I’m sorry, Mai,” I said. “I should have told you sooner.”
“Well, what if he does confess to you? What then?” asked Mai—but she was missing the point. That wasn’t what I was talking about anymore.
“I’m engaged, Mai.”
I watched her swallow her next words, then just kind of stare at me in disbelief. After bowing my head to her in apology for a moment, I reiterated myself.
“I’m getting married—to someone I truly love,” I said. “Someone who did confess their feelings to me.”
Mai didn’t say a word to this. She just kind of looked at me for a moment. Her eyes widened ever so slightly before she eventually blinked—but only once.
“I really wish I hadn’t waited so long to tell you,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“What’s he like?” she asked.
“He’s all I could ever ask for. As irreplaceable to me as you are.”
This would probably be the first and last time I’d tell one of my closest friends I was getting married and the first words out of their mouth were not some form of congratulations. It would also no doubt be the first and last time we had a conversation in which she started tearing up before I did.
“I’ve told him all about you, by the way,” I said. “And about Hibiki too. And Kao, and Karin, and Taiga-san as well. And how much you all mean to me.”
Why? Because I wanted him to know what incredible friends I had.
“I realize now just how wrong it was for me to keep him a secret from the group,” I said. “Especially when he means just as much to me as all of you do. I’m really sorry.”
Mai frantically wiped the tears from her eyes, apparently ashamed of the fact that she was crying over this. Unfortunately for her, I still had more I needed to share.
“And that’s why,” I said, “I went ahead and told Hibiki too.”
Her lips parted ever so slightly, and I could hear the tiniest hint of a gasp escape from between them.
“I told him I’m getting married,” I said. “Just now.”
“And…how did that go?” asked Mai.
Here we were: two grown women in our early thirties, finally facing each other about this, with tears in our eyes in the middle of downtown, after years of existing in this sort of moratorium state of uncertainty where we’d just had to guess what the other person was feeling. She knew she didn’t have to ask me these questions to get the gist. And I knew I didn’t have any obligation to answer. But I told her anyway.
“He was so happy for me, you wouldn’t believe it.”
I wasn’t sure what came over Mai just then—but all of a sudden, she hugged me tight. And once again, instead of congratulating me, or saying she was relieved to hear this, she simply apologized. As she trembled in my arms, I gently rubbed her back.
“Okay, y’know what?” I said. “No, I can’t do this.”
“Pardon?” said Hibiki. “What are we talking about?”
As we’d been perusing the furniture section—talking about whether we preferred harder cushions or soft, and testing out various different sofas neither of us had any intention of buying—I’d been doing a lot of thinking. And I’d finally made up my mind.
“I can’t let you buy me furniture for my birthday,” I said. “It’s just too expensive.”
“What, you’re still getting caught up on the price tag?” asked Hibiki. “I told you, it’s really no big deal.”
He flashed me a friendly smile, then moved to stand up—but I placed my hand on his knee to keep him from doing so. Naturally, he looked confused by this.
“It’s not just a matter of price,” I said.
“You don’t wanna have to deal with moving it later?” he asked.
“No.”
For once, I almost wished I was still the whiny little kid that Hibiki always joked I was. Then at least I could say that the tears I began to shed about thirty seconds into this discussion weren’t exclusively tears of joy, and mean it.
“It’s that I already made plans to go furniture shopping with someone,” I said.
Hibiki was probably sharp enough to get the message from this alone. And yet, he simply furrowed his brow and waited for me to go on, like any good friend should.
“Hibiki, the truth is…” I began, then paused to take a breath as I mentally apologized not just to Karin, but to everyone who played a part in this. “I’m getting married.”
“…And you’re telling me this now?!” Hibiki exclaimed.
Although he looked quite startled by this at first, with each passing second his lips broadened into the biggest smile I’d ever seen. I tried as hard as I possibly could to sear this expression into my memory.
“Are you kidding me?!” He sounded overjoyed. “Well, shit! Congrats, Chizuru! No, that totally makes sense, then. Can’t have someone else buying you furniture… So, that’s part of the reason you’re moving too, huh? God, I feel kinda dumb now—I didn’t pick up on that at all.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” I apologized. “Had my reasons for keeping quiet about it, but I really wish I could’ve told you sooner.”
“Nah, it’s totally cool! Man… Can’t believe little Chizuru’s getting married!”
There was only one emotion on his face and in his voice: 100 percent pure joy.
“Hey, whoa there!” he said. “You’re not seriously gonna start crying right after telling me you got engaged, are you?!”
“No, no… I just…didn’t think you’d be so excited about it… Thanks, Hibiki.”
“If you don’t cut it out, they’re gonna make you buy this sofa anyway, y’know. They’ll say it’s got too much emotional significance to you now to sell it to anyone else.”
As usual, he hid his consideration behind a safe layer of snarkiness. All I could hope was that my nose would hurry up and get stuffy before I completely bawled my eyes out. Not that it made much of a difference.
“Well, you definitely chose a weird place to make the announcement, but seriously, congratulations on your engagement, Chizuru.”
“Thanks so much—really. But yeah, so I think I’d prefer something small, if you don’t mind. Ideally something we can both get as matching gifts for each other. I mean, we are BFFs, after all.”
“Wow. You know, the last time I heard anyone use that term, it was the girls in my junior high class.”
I pulled out the handkerchief Kao had given me and then lightly dabbed my cheeks and eyes dry. Not wanting the store staff to start calling us “that weird couple in the sofa corner,” we stood up and made our way over to the kitchen utensils section.
“So, when you say you’re engaged, I take it that means you haven’t officially filed the marriage paperwork yet?”
Obviously, I knew he had no ulterior motives in asking this.
“Yeah,” I said. “We haven’t even told our parents yet, honestly. Planning to go do that next month.”
I had to deeply apologize to Karin internally for what I was about to say next. But I’d already decided that I wasn’t going to operate based on how I assumed the other person felt anymore. I was going to bear my heart to my irreplaceable friends, so that they could share in the joy of my upcoming marriage with me. And in order to do that, I had to have faith—both in them, and in this latest version of myself.
“We’re hoping to have a wedding, though,” I said. “If we do, would you come?”
“Of course!” Hibiki answered. “You think I’d miss the chance to see you rip off that wedding dress between the ceremony and reception to reveal a leather jacket and a Gretsch case underneath?”
“You laugh, but I bet you wish you could flaunt how you’re secretly a rock star to your coworkers and clients like I do.”
I didn’t think of this as some cool, noble outcome in which he and I had come to an unspoken agreement we were better off staying platonic, since both of us were determined to stick to our principles. This was just a product of me looking at the situation holistically and deciding—with both my heart and my head, after taking everyone’s feelings into consideration—that the strongest emotion I felt for Hibiki was friendship, and that everything else paled in comparison.
Though you could also totally say we were effectively just two overgrown teenagers who decided we’d rather hurt each other than set aside our own stubbornness, and I wouldn’t even be able to argue with that.
I suggested to Hibiki that maybe some high-quality towels would make for a nice gift. There was a little extra significance to this too, as ever since we were in college, I’d use towels to help warm up my vocal cords before shows or jam sessions by covering my mouth and shouting into one anytime I was somewhere not soundproofed.
“It’ll be a good gift for you too,” I said. “Might motivate you to hurry up and start that new band already.”
“There are other uses for towels, you know,” said Hibiki.
I let him pick out the colors. For me, he chose a light blue.
“The wedding’s not for a while, but ‘something blue’ seems fitting for the bride to be.”
I didn’t know this until I’d started doing research for my own wedding, but apparently blue was considered a good color for ornaments or jewelry for the bride to wear during the ceremony, and for wedding gifts from friends. It was said to symbolize wishing them a lifetime of happiness.
Since the towels came in boxes that were actually a lot larger than we expected, we decided to shell out for the home delivery service, even though it was a bit indulgent. But I knew I definitely didn’t want to have to worry about lugging it around the rest of the day.
After checking out, the clerk at the register gave Hibiki the two tracking stubs for our respective shipments. Once we walked out of the store, he turned and held mine out to me with both hands like a proper birthday gift.
“Happy birthday, Chizuru,” he said warmly. “And congrats on your engagement.”
“Thanks,” I said as I accepted it. “Man, it feels so weird to hear you say that…”
At this, his smile naturally broadened even further.
“I really hope you find happiness,” he said.
“You too,” I replied—even though it felt like a mildly awkward sentiment to reciprocate in this particular context.
Hibiki laughed and sheepishly scratched his head.
“Y’know,” he said, “maybe we should’ve just taken the towels after all.”