Grip

Adachi was really sitting inside my room. It could be said that this was an exceptional situation on several levels.

Just yesterday the most we would see of each other were our commutes towards another city and now we were hanging out like some chummy buddies. Not really. Not with how overly strained the atmosphere felt (for once not due to the strangling heat and dry air inside this tiny room). The problem was that I could not quite pinpoint the source of that tension, even when doing my very best.

It was visible on Adachi's face that something was bothering her, maybe. Her expressions tended to be hard to decipher when she was stiffening up like this. If I had to be honest, I really preferred it when her emotions showed on her face like they did this noon. There was something so refreshing about the honesty I could find in her every motion. In that sense, this current state of events was not much different actually. I could tell that she was stiff, because she was bothered. Which just threw us for a full loop back to the start.

Not to say that I wasn't also feeling a bit off. The stunt I had just pulled before was affecting my unsteady mood as well. Changing clothes in front of her… might have been a bad move. It wasn't that I felt particularly embarrassed, but there was definitely a level of trust that was required to act this way in front of her. Why was that? I had never felt it necessary to think about the other girls seeing me change back in school. I think that's how it should be. Nobody cared about such things, but it still felt like a misstep.

Maybe it was just rude? Adachi was a guest at our home, so she deserved my full attention. You could definitely put me in the role of host, regardless of whether I actually did anything. Mom was probably more suited for that title considering she prepared dinner and had welcomed us in, but I had invited Adachi. Me. So then, dragging her into a hot, stuffy room and making her watch me change was a bad thing, right?

Was that it? Did Adachi's shifty gaze and stiff cheeks imply that she felt slighted? While I couldn't be sure and never would go place a bet on it, I kind of denied that possibility from within the depth of my social skills deprived mind. Today Adachi had shown a different side of her, something far more fragile than the usual upstanding worker. She had shown an interest in stuff, she had failed and apologized, squirmed and left her comfort zone. Behind that stoic and forcefully straight expression lay a world I could not fathom.

I wanted to explore it. I just hadn't figured out how to crack her iron defense yet.

"Shimamura?" She was tilting her head slightly to the side. What was the matter now? I adjusted my position on the table and gave her a questioning grunt. "You have been looking at my face… Uhm, is there something wrong?"

"Your face is fine!"

"That's a relief."

What kind of exchange was that? Why were we acting like shy teens at a marriage interview? And why was that the first comparison my loopy mind came to? It was really funny to me and I could feel a smile curl up my face. Then it vanished again when I really examined what she had said. Was I staring at her that much? Arguably there was not much else I could have looked at, but I again had to question my actions. Maybe I was a really rude person to my core.

In high-school I had tried to just coast along, always giving people fake smiles and telling them what they wanted to hear. It was a great effort to avoid putting effort into human relationships. A well timed laugh here, a surprised reaction there and you would be fine in most group conversations. I purposely avoided talking to people one to one most of the time back then.

The only girl I felt mostly comfortable just hanging out with was Hino. Nagafuji was also easy to handle, but holding a conversation with her was nearly impossible. Yeah, Nagafuji just kinda happened to someone, like the weather. The only one who could give the forecast on her was Hino. She was a convenient translator, so the fact that they always came as a pair was useful indeed.

It was odd that I could remember those two so well, when everyone else was only a shadow with a mouth in my memory. I sucked at remembering names, but this trait only got worse the older I got. Then there was that duo, always sticking at the back of my mind. Admittedly, I had met them a few times even after high-school, but I hardly remembered the names of the girls I spent every day with in year two and three, let alone anyone from university.

I suppose Hino and Nagafuji were just that unique. The only other person I bothered to remember since then was sitting right in front of me. She was also unique then. What if we had met back in school? It was hard to imagine myself sitting next to her in class. With how she looked right now I would expect her to stand in the front and teach us instead. Having missed my shot to meet high-school Adachi meant I only knew her as an adult. It was regrettable somehow and left a sour taste in my mouth. And that after I had said such a cool line before. Good thing Adachi could not read my mind or she would surely have been disappointed.

She couldn't read my mind, right?

Currently she was adjusting her bangs, probably trying to make sure her face was fine.

Seems she couldn't read me yet.

"If I may be so bold to ask, what is your given name, Miss Adachi?" If you asked me why I phrased it like that, you'd get no answers from me.

"Sakura."

Her reply was quick, although her eyes had definitely twitched in surprise. Question marks should have appeared above her head, but the world was not quite that convenient yet.

"That's a pretty name. Is everything about you so high-class?" I asked with furrowed brows. I was not mocking her or anything, those were my true feelings. Sakura was a name that suited her overly well, in my opinion. Just a while ago I had seen the color of cherry blossoms right on her cheeks after all. Whether she liked that name herself was hard to tell, but it clearly had thrown her off-kilter when I repeated it. "Sakura."

"Hougetsu."

That was a surprise attack if I had ever heard one. I could mostly guess where she had gotten my name from (which made me quietly curse that woman), but the way she had said it was also throwing me off. My name was a bit of an abnormality, something you'd expect to read in works of literature. I had my mother to thank for that stroke of madness. Coming from Adachi's supple lips though, I did feel it was rather natural. It could have just been this aura of a librarian she had when she put her hair over her shoulder and looked focused.

"That's me."

"I like your name too."

"Gee, thanks. Just so you know, flattery will get you nowhere here. I have no snacks left."

All we had were the half-emptied box of cookies I had pushed on the table (which I noted she had not touched, making me look rather greedy in turn) and the cold mineral water. That being said, for someone who just agonized over being rude, I sure said some careless things. What kind of spell had Adachi put on me to feel so awfully carefree?

"Hm… Hougetsu."

"Still present."

She seemed to chew on my name and twist it around in her mouth until she was satisfied. It seemed my quip had gone entirely unappreciated. Lucky.

"I think you are more of a Shimamura." She finally concluded. What did that mean? If I asked her she would probably not be able to tell me - just a feeling I had.

"Can't argue with that, I guess."

After more awkward yet rather pleasant small-talk we were finally called downstairs by my (very loud) mother. The sun had already sunken pretty low and covered the town outside the window in a caramel color. This hue was my favorite.

At the living room table we were greeted by the entire family, which meant that introductions were in order. Adachi was still stiff, but she managed to introduce herself to my dad and little sister well enough. Once you spent some time at a company, you really learned how to belt out those greetings. Or something like that anyway. Adachi's voice was super low and she couldn't keep up eye-contact for more than a couple of seconds.

My little sister was staring at her the entire time. She was usually not too good with strangers, so I assumed she was trying to figure out how much she would have to deal with here. After seeing Adachi bow her head lightly several times, she turned away with a lack of interest. Apparently our guest had managed to pass her test. Good job Adachi.

Dad on the other hand was just laughing and inviting her to sit down next to him, saying something about enjoying the company of young women. Thankfully mom smacked his head and told us to sit on the other end of the table together. Here we were yet again shoulder to shoulder. Only this time we were sitting, something we could rarely enjoy on the train to work.

"Today we have okonomiyaki, but don't overeat again, Hougetsu."

"Could you not portray me as some glutton?"

"Sis, you had a stomachache all night last time."

"Nice assist!"

These two were suddenly teaming up against me? The betrayal of a lifetime, in my very own home. They had no mercy, even in front of Adachi. I should have counted myself lucky that dad didn't usually join in on their combined attacks.

Speaking of Adachi, she looked down on her plate, keeping her lips tightly shut. Most likely it had nothing to do with the choice of food, as you could pretty much turn okonomiyaki into whatever you preferred. That was the adaptable nature of it, which made it my favorite. No, what Adachi worried about seemed to be more internal. I couldn't read her face beyond the fact that she was holding herself back.

I wanted to encourage her somehow. In that capacity, I handed her some ingredients to put on the heated plate. She hastily took them and spread them out. Her spread was… well let's better keep those details vague.

"So, you are Hougetsu's coworker?"

Surprisingly dad started a conversation all on his own. The beer must have gotten to his head or he was in a weird mood. Either way, the ball was now in Adachi's court.

"N-no, we don't work for the same company." She squeezed out while clinging to her knees.

"She didn't make any friends at university, so you can't be from there." Mom added while flicking her chopsticks to turn her food.

"I am right here by the way."

They kept saying whatever they felt like as usual. A little more tact would have been nice, especially when talking to Adachi. At least I thought it would have made things less awkward. Our circumstances were kind of complicated if you thought about it.

"We met on the way to work. I've been in your daughter's care ever since." Surprisingly Adachi spoke with a stable tone of voice and an even expression. Had she shed the skin of the nervous woman she once was and evolved?

"How polite. You seem to be a bright young woman." Dad laughed amicably. "Do you work at a similar company?"

Did we? I couldn't remember ever asking Adachi what she actually did at her job. It never came up during our conversations during the commute. I suppose work was the last thing we wanted to discuss while going to or leaving it. Adachi twisted her mouth with some effort and then shook her head. Really? I had no idea how she knew.

Dad kept poking holes into her, surprisingly not losing interest. If it was about work he always seemed unnecessarily enthusiastic. When I started my job he had been pestering me as well, but he quickly learned to stop, because I was so disinterested in it all. If someone forced me to talk about my job, I could only tell them that it took around eight hours every day to finish.

"Five years! Such an early start, impressive." Somehow he had dragged this much info out of her already. And now for the finishing blow… "How much do you make a year?"

"Dad."

I glared at him and mom rammed her elbow into his unprotected side. Asking someone their income was definitely over the line. He and his friends tended to compare stuff like that all the time, so he probably just messed up without any ill will. While he flinched in pain, I quickly looked to my side and watched Adachi listlessly poke her food.

"About…"

She muttered a sum. My family stared at her (including my sister) and they seemed lost for words. Yeah, I get it, my reaction wasn't much different. What she said was certainly a high number. About double of what I made, that's for sure. I got that five years of diligent work and occasional raises would get you somewhere in a ballpark above a rookie like me, but still. Those years of university didn't quite help jumpstart me to Adachi's level it seemed. Which didn't surprise me, as I had only studied for the sake of putting off finding a job in the first place.

That aside, wasn't she too careless? Sharing something like that with strangers was not what I was taught to do. Of course nobody cared what a new employee like me made anyway, but that's beside the point. To me it seemed like Adachi had retreated into her shell and just turned on autopilot. That must have been it. If I asked her right now what her credit card number was, she would probably tell me.

"Please stay good friends with Hougetsu."

Thanks mom. Sometimes I really didn't know why I hadn't moved out yet.

The conversation afterwards was a lot more normal and moved away from Adachi's personal information, thankfully. Her replies were mostly one-note, but she did her best. Mom was acting like a weirdo and embarrassed me quite a bit, but my pride was already worn down by years of no use. With a family like this, who needed enemies, right?

Joking aside, things went relatively smoothly for a first meeting. Suspiciously so.

"Did you like the food?"

A natural thing to ask I would think, but when it came to Adachi I suspected it would be a complicated matter.

She was currently washing her hands after putting the tableware into the dishwasher. This fancy thing was a good representation of our family's languid lifestyle. Mom just got tired of doing the dishes herself and my sister demanded a raise in her allowance if she was to keep doing it alone. Nobody would have to ask my stance on this, I'm sure.

"It was good."

What an Adachi response. She had said the same thing during our dinner outing last time too and just the same way I didn't quite buy it. She had eaten the least in our round. Compared to me that was not surprising, but mom was holding back for the sake of her diet. Perhaps Adachi was the type to enjoy things in small portions.

"Then you won't mind taking these leftovers with you."

"Huh?"

That comment came from behind us and before I could even turn around I was pushed aside by a toned arm and promptly replaced. Mom had gathered quite a bit of food in plastic containers and was now holding them like a door-to-door saleswoman. Adachi looked seriously flustered by her suggestion and tried to politely decline, but she had no idea what she was in for.

Although Adachi was in fact taller than my mother, she seemed to be the one looking up to a giant. I gave her a sympathetic smile, but did not assist. I didn't particularly mind mom's pushiness here.

"Living alone is tough and if Hougetsu is anything to go by, you might not be interested in cooking for yourself. Don't worry, I won't sell you a subscription with it!" She pushed the boxes into Adachi's arms and readied a bag for her to put them in.

"B-but the containers-"

"Just give them to her once you cleaned them."

She was referring to me, casually pointing her thumb over her shoulder. So basically I would have to take all of those empty boxes to work in my bag? Well, whatever. I didn't actually mind.

"Thank you very much!"

That response was the loudest I had heard our guest today. Whether she enjoyed the food or not, she most likely had never received something like this before. That was just my assumption, but it must have been true.

We were left alone soon after and walked through the hallway. I could see my sister slip into her room from the corner of my eyes. She seemed to be turning on her gaming console in the darkness before the door fell shut. While I wondered what she was going to play tonight, I bumped into the shoe rack. It hurt a lot, but I managed to suppress any curses that wanted to escape my mouth.

"Pff."

"I'm glad you seem to be enjoying my pain."

"No, no… s-sorry."

I smirked at her honest response. Much better.

"You really hit it off with them. Good work."

"Really?"

"If this was a job interview, you would probably get hired." That was a joke of course, but Adachi's twitchy expression made me wonder what was going through her head. Wondering rarely got you any results. Only the source could provide clarity.

"In my head, I actually treated it as one." Adachi admitted with reddened cheeks.

So that was it. The secret to Adachi's perfect performance and the closed off look she had displayed all evening. Socializing with my family was like work - this time without exaggeration. I could understand her just a little better now. This was who Adachi was. Someone who could steel herself and walk through the unpleasantness by shutting down anything unnecessary, like emotions. We were not the same after all, it wasn't the same. It wasn't.

While I gave lip-service, I simply drifted through conversations and life. I was unable to escape the flow, I could not even see where it went before I changed streams. Meanwhile Adachi was a rock, diving through the ocean. Eventually she would reach the bottom of the unpleasantness, but it could not move her. Then the tide would move the waters away and leave her behind. An existence of solitude, but one that was untouchable.

Perhaps this was just something she did on occasion, because it did not at all resemble what she was like when we talked, but I had a hunch that the Adachi of this evening was the more common one.

Her apprehensive expression as she looked at the doorstep made me wonder if she was conflicted about her own lifestyle. Did she ever question if she did the right thing? Whether she walked the road to happiness? Would she ever turn around and look back? Would her shaking hand stretch my way and clasp it for support?

I was aware of what I was doing here. Trying to project my worries unto Adachi. To make her more like me. It was no good, that much was obvious. The one who really wanted to stretch out her hand was me.

"Adachi."

And so I did. My hand clasped her free specimen ever so lightly. It was like we only touched fingertips. This connection was so fragile that a gust of wind could blow it apart.

She did not reply, but instead looked over her shoulder - looked at me with confusion. That was an understatement, she really appeared shocked. We weren't quite holding hands, just touching fingertips, but it was enough to feel her warmth. Her body had stored a lot of heat across the day and seemed to still exude it plenty. Compared to my easily freezing hands, she was like a heater.

"Let's exchange numbers." I said with a smile and held up my phone.

"S-sure!"

Our hands necessarily parted so she could pull out her phone with her free hand. To strengthen a connection one would have to let go sometimes. Part and reunite, over and over again, across a long period. That's how friendships were formed and that's how people became close.

I wished from the bottom of my soul that Adachi and I could also strengthen that connection over time. The only thing I hated about it was the parting. The tide was my enemy. My mind wanted to swim against it, but would my empty heart follow suit?

"See you."

"Yes, until Monday."

I saw her off to her bike and then let her ride away.

The warmth of her fingertips still lingered, so I pressed it into the display of my phone. By the time she noticed the message she would probably be at her apartment.

Let's meet again soon, Sakura.