I don't need antidepressants, I swear.

Last Train Home

Nothing had changed.

That was the one overwhelming reality that hit my brain every moment I was inside this house. It had already seeped in when I looked at it from the outside, but by the time I passed through the hallway and ascended the stairs the poison had reached its full effect. An unbearably suffocating pressure had clasped my skull and was trying to squeeze my temples until they cracked. The dusty air, the darkest corners, the empty and lifeless rooms. This was my old prison. I was really back.

There was my room, the place I had spent endless hours merely lying on my bed waiting for time to pass me by. The horrible incessant ticking of the clock was ingrained into my very being, making me now anxiously stare at the unmoving hands as if they were toying with me and could spring to life any moment. Time stopped for this place, but it had been no different when things still had been moving.

I had been an empty person, never showing an interest in anything or anyone. Outside of my part time job I had no distractions in my life. School was an obligation that I mostly skipped and I had no friends to speak of which would have tied me to that place. I never knew any of the neighbors and I avoided my mother's acquaintances almost as much as I did her. So whenever I had returned home this room was the only thing I would see. These four walls were my self-imposed prison.

My unsteady feet moved through the dust on the floor and left a trail behind. I eventually stopped my dragging steps in front of the large window. The view outside was the same it had always been. In all the years there had been little to no change in scenery. A house had been built on the other side of the road once and that was almost all. Of course the changing of the seasons would switch the color palette of the trees and roofs over time, but it was like I had always been looking at the same empty road.

I tried to remember the me from back then, not out of nostalgia or anything like that. This girl who spent all her days wasting away inside a room, what did she think about it all? The truth was that I found it increasingly hard to remember my own thoughts and feelings from times past. The ticking of the clock hammered in my memory, but what did I actually feel back then? It was not hatred. I did not hate this place.

How could you hate if you never learned to care?

It surprised me more than anything to find that, back then at least, I did not care. Somehow this past Adachi did not feel anger, sadness or joy when she lay on that single bed and stared at the ceiling. She could not even muster such strong emotions in the first place. There had been this nagging and ever-present sense of displeasure, definitely. Much like a frog being boiled in a pot by slowly increasing the temperature unnoticeable to the animal itself, I too had never felt the profound emotions that would build up inside my indifferent shell.

Until the day that I finally escaped. And it was really an escape, I fled. From one day to the next I gathered my savings and moved to a place far away from this house. I did not want to make it sound like I just ran out without a plan. By that point I had already landed a job in my current company and I had first searched for an apartment to rent. It was a hasty move, but not one build on emotional affect. That's what I truly believed back then.

Yet there was one aspect that now made me question the truth of it.

I never told my mother about it. If she had not come home early that day we would not even have met before I disappeared. But she did come home and I was leaving with my bag of essentials. Nothing more than a bag and my tightly shut lips. If she was surprised by my actions she did keep it to herself. Her eyes did not even flicker once as she watched me exit the door. Without an explanation she still fully understood what was going on. Words were not common between the two of us in the first place, at that point in time we had not exchanged a single sentence for more than a year or perhaps more.

I thought that I didn't care and that I shouldn't care. We could not understand each other, so there was no reason to explain.

It wasn't hatred.

I didn't hate her.

I didn't hate this house.

I didn't hate this view.

I didn't hate…

Yet at our final parting she did speak. She did say those words that I wanted to forget. Why did she say that to me, to the daughter who had not given her even a word of explanation or care? Those words…

Shimamura entered the dusty room. I knew it was her without turning back or noticing her reflection in the window that I kept touching to keep myself steady. There was no way my mother would enter here while I was still present as she had not done that even back then. My confidence in that fact was messing with my emotions too. How could I claim not to understand her if I could develop such certainties so easily? It felt like I had swallowed my heart and it was slowly digested by my own bile.

Shimamura was probably uncertain of what to say after she talked to my mother for so long. I could not even imagine what they talked about, but if I was to hazard a guess, she probably complained about me in front of Shimamura. Told her who I really was below all the posturing and stoic mask. I should not have left them alone, should have dragged Shimamura with me to shield her… but all I really tried to accomplish with that cowardly thought was to shield myself.

The only person that I did not want to dislike me was her. If I could seem worthy of her approval then that would have been enough. Maybe I wanted far more than that - maybe I needed something more than that. If I could seem reliable, supportive and at least the tiniest bit interesting to her then maybe I could have drawn more of Shimamura's attention. If she focused her beautiful eyes on me then I could forget about the empty black hole inside my chest and pretend I was revolving around a bright star instead.

I knew that could not ever happen now. The view in front of me was the same even after all these years. My childish mindset had not changed at all. I left to become an adult, to cut my ties from this suffocating place and become someone else, but I returned not having grown up at all. My mother was still standing in the door and watching my retreating back. The room was still just as I left it behind in endless apathy. The view from this window had not changed.

"It's still the same."

My lips repeated the chant that tormented my head. Letting it leave my body didn't weaken it, the words gave it more power. I felt like I stopped breathing altogether now. My eyes swam and the world swirled around me. Sinking, sinking, sinking into the depth of my own ink-black heart.

"Hey, Sakura."

Her voice penetrated the endless black sea like a tall lighthouse.

"Yeah?"

My voice was only a fading echo between the waves.

"Is the view that good?"

I saw the reflection of her eyes in the window. Her face was transparent, so I could barely make it out. It was like I was looking through her and forced to see the same view beyond again. The more I tried to focus on her the more obvious it became that she was not real, unlike the road outside this house. Unlike the never changing world that I saw from this window.

It was not that I had felt anything, right? I was not sad back then, I was not angry either. I didn't…

"I hate it."

My throat betrayed me. The words came out with a choked up sob that I could not suppress. From one moment to the next my mind shattered. All the years, all the weakness and sadness poured out of me and there was nothing to stop the tears anymore. Why did I have to realize it now? Not in front of her, not when I was finally happy.

Shimamura pulled me towards her and then pushed my face against her, gingerly drawing me to my old bed. The tears were flowing freely onto her chest and into the endless pit of my emotions. I felt so deeply ashamed about it that I would have preferred to push myself away and run from this. Shimamura's arms were wrapped around me like a rope to tie me up, but I could have escaped. I could run again…

No way. My shame could not even hope to surpass the need inside my heart to feel her warmth. The hot tears spilled out of me, threatening to drain all my heat and leave me a frozen corpse. To stay alive and breathing I needed her embrace like a child that had a nightmare and hugged its parents. It was so endlessly embarrassing to think that way about a friend, about someone I admired so much… someone I loved.

Her presence was what changed me. It changed even the stale air in this room and made it seem breathable. This wasn't an exaggeration, I truly felt like I had held my breath ever since I came here. Only now did I desperately gasp for air, the oxygen that seemed to come out of Shimamura's very being was the only thing my lungs would accept. I had fallen so deeply for her that my world had turned upside down. The laws that guided the universe had become inscribed with Shimamura's being.

As I suppressed my moans and sobs as best as I could, I truly started to understand. Her presence changed me and that's why I hated this place. I had always felt suffocated in this house, I needed to leave it, I just never knew why. Now that I met Shimamura I finally understood what it meant to by happy, to love something. And to love meant also to feel the opposite. An absence of love, a lack of affection or desire. This place was the essence of that feeling to me. I had always hated the view, I had always felt trapped, but my apathetic self had never acknowledged my pain.

The truth was that Sakura Adachi had never been empty. She was filled with emotions that never reached the surface. And so all they could do was fester and turn rancid, putrid and gross. To spill these vile contents and stain Shimamura's chest with them was making me all the more pathetic, to the point where I hated myself. But knowing that she hugged me and accepted this tainted leak left me infinitely grateful.

It was bittersweet to feel all these emotions back to back. The sense of loss was equal to what I had gained, at least for now. To understand my hatred for this stale world allowed me to comprehend my love for the world in which Shimamura existed all the more.

After a shamefully long cry I had finally regained my composure. The first thing I did with my regained senses was to try and make distance between us and scout out her reaction to my unseemly actions. Shimamura was decidedly not looking my way and instead changed the topic as if nothing happened. Her sweetness was almost paralyzing my decayed taste buds, but that that was just one more sense that she could overwhelm and claim for herself.

The knot in my chest had loosened and disappeared, leaving me able to finally breathe even this stale air. I wanted to thank her, but did not know how. What could I say to make her understand how much she saved me just there?

"This bed is pretty nice." Shimamura said as she audibly bounced on it with her back. Obviously we had undusted it first or otherwise we really would have suffocated. "Am I imagining it or is there a big dent in the mattress?"

My eyes widened in shock and I couldn't stop myself from staring at the old mattress on reflex. Had it actually changed shape in all the years I lay on it without moving? That would mean she was pressed into my old shape… A moment later I noticed the grin on Shimamura's face and blushed. I should have expected her to tease me now that she had seen my pathetic nature.

"It's hard." I replied defiantly.

"Did you know that I can't sleep on soft pillows?" She said with a raised finger. How that was related to the mattress was beyond me, but Shimamura seemed to think it was important.

"You can bring your own pillows with you."

"I definitely will. Took me forever to find the right consistency, even though my family always buys those pillows with memory foam. Whatever that stuff is supposed to do, it never fit my head shape." She yawned at the end of her sentence and seemed ready to fall asleep on this bed. My bed. How could she be so defenseless?

"Shimamura…"

"I know, I know. Let's take care of this quickly so we don't need to impose on your mother's hospitality all night." Whether she was joking or not, I agreed wholeheartedly.

She raised up her arms and looked up to me. It was not like I didn't understand what that pose meant, but it was seriously driving me crazy. My dry throat swallowed as if I had chewed on sand and with more self-control than I thought possible I quietly grabbed her hand and pulled her up. With our hands locked together we left the bed and she took a final glance around the room.

"You really don't want to take any of this with you?"

"Yeah." I nodded weakly. It could have been spite, it may have been the embers of the hatred I felt for the memories this room evoked, but there was no way I would take it with me. Now more than ever I wanted to leave them to rest and start making new memories.

"Is there anything else we could use?" She didn't judge my childish rejection and simply moved on to the next objective. Shimamura was carefree in a considerate way.

"The basement is… there could be something down there, maybe?" Even I was uncertain about that. After all I hadn't used the basement for anything except storing bike parts. There were many dark corners down there that I had never paid attention to.

"I just went through my own basement today, so I kinda don't want to do that again." She said dryly. I could only guess how messy and cold it had been in the Shimamuras' basement. She had ordered me to sit down and let her take care of it this morning, so I stayed out like some kind of obedient dog.

"No problem, I will go myself." That was the first time I felt like I could be useful to Shimamura all day, so I relished the opportunity.

"Scream if you get attacked by something, alright?"

"Do you like horror movies that much?"

"They would be more interesting if you were the protagonist." She replied with a smirk.

Unable to respond to that, I just opened the door for her and pushed the switch that lit up the lamps inside hallway. Both of us had gone up here in complete darkness it seemed, I hadn't even noticed it myself. Thankfully the basement was just as well-lit once you found the light switch behind the door.

I was walking ahead, but occasionally glanced over my shoulder. Shimamura was following me with a vaguely encouraging smile. We decided that I would inspect the basement, but she still came along anyway. Maybe she didn't want to stay in my old room, not that I could blame her. On the first floor I could take a swift peek into the living room where that woman still sat with her cup of tea. She didn't seem to have anything else planned for the day.

Briskly I stepped past that room and made my way down the half to the basement door. It opened with a stretched creaking sound and left me confronted with darkness. Finding the light switch was paramount if I didn't want to break my neck. I patted the walls inside until I finally hit it and the old lightbulbs fizzed to life. I suppressed a relieved sigh and turned back to see whether Shimamura was secretly laughing at me.

She wasn't there anymore. Seems she went to the living room to talk to my mother again. I couldn't make out their conversation and I didn't want to. Instead I descended into the basement and took a look around the dusty corners and piles of old items nobody had used in years. In the back I could still find my old bicycle pump and a spare wheel. It was hard to tell if they could still be used, but I picked them up and checked.

Just as I was making sure there were no holes I could hear voices from above. The pipes in the walls were echoing faint fragments of a conversation. I hadn't ever noticed that they connected to the living room, but when would one even have an opportunity for that anyway?

"…care for…"

"Her… life…"

It was incredibly hard to make anything out like this. Even though I had already claimed not to care, my ear was definitely drawn to the source of the sounds. I pressed my head against the wall in the back where it was easiest to hear. The vibrations went through my skull and left me a little shaken.

"I will make her happy."

That was Shimamura's voice. It was naught but a distant whisper, but to my heart it felt like she was right next to me. I did not have any context and yet…

I clutched my fingers into the small cracks inside the wall and felt waves of heat wash over my chest and mind. It was seriously self-centered of me to think that Shimamura was talking about us. Was it wrong to want it to be true nonetheless?

"I look forward to seeing how your efforts will pay off."

And that was my mother's response. When people said something like that they usually meant it in a positive way, but there was no telling what that woman truly thought. Whatever they were discussing, she seemed completely ambivalent. That's how she had always been. Always.

I pushed myself away from the wall and took a few calming breaths. Listening in on them was totally improper and Shimamura would probably have scolded me if she found out. She was an awkward person who couldn't always say what she meant, that's what I figured out in our time together. But when she was ready she would definitely say it to my face. This made me feel the need to return the favor and be more direct as well.

It wasn't easy compromising my growing feelings for Shimamura with my wish to support her as a friend. Could she see right through me? If she did, then why did she never show any reaction? I may have been an adult, but I had never learned to deal with situations like this. I didn't want to shut myself off from Shimamura, so I had to find a way to channel my feelings into a constructive outlet. Love could be a foundation for anything you wanted to build, it was just that versatile. That was the kind of cheesy line that I had read in magazines once or twice. I really was utterly inadequate in expressing my emotions.

I remembered my embarrassing crying episode upstairs and immediately turned scarlet red. No more pathetic displays like that! So what if I was weak and flimsy? It was natural to want to appear strong and reliable in front of… close friends. From here on out there would be no more drops coming from my tear ducts and no more self-pity from the pit of my stomach.

I raised my fists in a determined pose and returned to sifting through the basement.

"That's more than I expected." Shimamura clapped her hands in mild applause.

I was carrying a few boxes that were filled with useful things we could take with us to the new apartment once we made sure to sign the contract. Among other things there were old dishes and cutlery in there that we had inherited from my grandmother. It was old, but still very intact. Other than that I had found a bunch of extension cables, an old table lamp and candles.

"What's in that bag?" Shimamura curiously stretched her hand after something that had gotten stuck between two boxes. I couldn't stop her with my arms full, but I sucked in the air in shock. "Oh wow. Is this yours?" To my terror Shimamura was unfolding a blue Chinese dress right in front of me.

"I… er… maybe." I muttered quietly. My face was covered in shadows.

"Adachi."

"No."

"C'mon, it would totally suit you."

"I've grown out of it." I countered resolutely and turned my back to her. Even if it still fit me, there was no way I would wear something so embarrassing in front of her.

"Do you have more cosplay like that lying around? I didn't think you had that kind of hobby." She was acting like she had just found a new toy to mess with.

"I don't. It was a graduation gift from my old workplace." I begrudgingly admitted it. The Chinese restaurant I worked for was weird enough for making me wear that during the job, but using this thing as my parting gift when I quit was even weirder. I didn't want to accept it at first, but my old boss was very intense. She said something about it being my partner that I should never let go and then pushed it on me. Most likely it was just starting to get too worn out to hand it to the next waitress.

"Oh! That's the place you wanted to take me to that closed down, right?"

"Yes…" I was once again reminded of my many failures.

Shimamura kept staring at the silken outfit and hummed to herself. Then she just folded it back up and put it in the bag. I noticed that she did not return it to me, but instead put it on the pile of things for the new apartment. Why though?

"Let's have Chinese again sometime once things calm down." She winked.

"Alright." If that would make her happy I had no reason to object. That was my standard response to Shimamura as time went on.

"We also got the go-ahead to take the couch with us." She casually pointed at the living room's large black couch.

"What?" I was definitely staring in stupor.

"Ms. Adachi said she will be getting a new one soon, so that one would just be thrown away." Shimamura wrapped a finger around her long hair strands and gave me an innocent look. Why did I have a feeling that there was more to it than she let on?

"Is that really-"

"We need a couch. That's my one condition for our home." Shimamura grabbed my hand in hers and put her face way too close to my own.

"S-sure, but we can get a new one."

"Those are super expensive! Also this one is really comfy."

So she had already laid down on the couch while I was in the basement? I furrowed my brows, but eventually returned her smile. My resistance to taking anything from this place was crumbling as I watched Shimamura's cuteness in front of me. Maybe I was actually a total pushover.

We put everything we gathered into a side-room (barring the couch of course). With the things Shimamura had found at her house, we actually managed to amass quite some inventory for our new home. The moving company would have to make an extra stop here, but it shouldn't have been too problematic. I would pay extra if it came down to it, even if Shimamura tried to object.

I exhaled and wiped some sweat from my face as I finished our inspection. The sky outside the window had already gotten quite dark. Evening approached quicker each day. It was time to ride Shimamura home and get my stuff from her house.

"Thank you for everything." Shimamura suddenly spoke to someone behind me.

I didn't turn around. No matter what I didn't want to turn around.

"Can you give this to Yoshika?" Her voice was as apathetic as ever, but she did hand Shimamura a small bag.

A gift? Even knowing that our mothers were apparently friends didn't make it any more comprehensible to me. That woman had always cared about appearances and etiquette. She had always played the polite host for her guests and been the center of her social circle. It came as naturally as breathing to her, so I shouldn't have been surprised that she would do this with Shimamura's mother as well. The odd exchanges they had on the phone may just have been an exceptional situation.

"Of course, I'm sure mom will be happy. She loves getting presents." Shimamura shrugged. "We will be back once we settle the details. I'll get you some of those tea leaves we talked about." Shimamura was acting like she had completely adapted to this household. She didn't show any signs of trepidation. So casual. Completely relaxed.

While I was stunned, she suddenly grabbed my hand. It was a natural motion, as if she was taking the leash of her dog or the arm of her child. She softly but determinedly pulled me towards the exit. Maybe she had noticed that my legs had been tied to the ground by invisible vines. Her strong pull managed to free me of the trap and let me get through the door, keeping my back to the large and empty house.

I had to unlock the bike and prepare for our leave, so I automatically went through the motions. The door was audibly shut behind me. This was the way we would part once again, without a single word from me.

This time she didn't stand there to say those words…

"Sakura."

My eyes widened and I dropped the lock. Shimamura was facing half away from both of us as if this had nothing to do with her. She merely held her hair in the low breeze and waited for me to finish. The words had come from behind me instead.

I rose up with stiff shoulders and my head turned down. I hadn't heard her call my name in five years. Why… why now? I didn't want to remember, yet I couldn't stop.

"Take good care of her." My mother said with an even voice carried by the evening wind.

It was different. The words were different this time. My throat was choking up and I balled my hands to fists to regain feeling in them. The ropes that had been tied around my throat and limbs were slowly falling off and left me standing free. She had let me go. The words of the woman I could not understand made perfect sense to me this time. She didn't have to say anything else, the message had been transmitted.

For a moment I thought my eyes failed as I could barely make out the bicycle in front of me. It had become so incredibly blurry…

"I will."

It was as if the pressure on my throat disappeared, because I managed to speak those words clear as a mountain spring. I knew Shimamura was smiling next to me and that the future ahead was doing the same.

We straddled the bike and I started paddling strongly, giving all those confusing emotions a useful outlet. The road was long and straight and for the first time in forever, the view from here seemed not so agonizing.

As I paddled and felt Shimamura press against my back I thought back to the day I had left this house behind and stopped calling it home. I had fled without a word, brushed past my mother and made my way out much the same as today. It was never supposed to be a goodbye, because I had never intended to meet her that day. Yet fate made us cross paths one more time and left me with her words. I had tried to forget, because it started to hurt whenever I remembered them. They seemed patronizing, they were cruel and they were unfair.

In my attempt to sever our ties and become independent I had almost managed to forget. Almost.

"If you ever need me, I will be waiting in this house."

That was the only thing Atsuka Adachi had said at our final parting.

That house did not feel like a home. That woman did not feel like a mother.

But she would always be there and perhaps that was enough for us.