Short Story | Everything in the World is 3.24㎡

Koharu-chan is always right by my side, close enough that two tatami mats would be more than enough, wrapping her slender left arm around my waist. She lets her other arm fall between us, and while resting her right temple against my left shoulder (she says, "Yamashita-kun's shoulder is just the perfect fit"), she watches Ametalk! and chuckles softly. Every time I hear that bell-like "chuckle," my own body sways along with it. As if there were a real bell ringing, tiny, tiny sounds.
Koharu-chan likes Chidori. Whenever she spots them on TV, she always gets a happy look on her face and says, "It's Chidori." She says she likes how they start laughing themselves before they even get to making others laugh. The fact that I find even such a unique perspective cute makes me think I'm a lost cause.

"Yamashita-kun, where were you born again?"
Koharu-chan asks me, her eyes still fixed on Chidori.
"...Somewhere in the south."
I answer, moving only my pupils toward the edge of my shoulder while pretending to watch Chidori.
"Hmm, the south. I see. That's why you're so warm, Yamashita-kun."

The conjunction "that's why" didn't connect at all in my brain, but I couldn't ask anything more. Instead, I tilted my head just a little to enjoy rubbing against Koharu-chan's soft, fine hair that touched my cheek.

"What's wrong, did you get sleepy?"

I love her voice, which is as smooth as milk tea. I love her hooded eyes, the slightly low nose she's self-conscious about, and the dimple that only appears on her right side. I love her white, smooth skin, the triangular mole on her waist, and her toenails that are always painted yellow for some reason. I love it all, every single bit of it.

Even after we turn off the TV and move from the sofa to the bed, Koharu-chan still presses her right temple against my left shoulder. Of course, her slender arm remains loosely wrapped around my waist.
Once, a long time ago, I asked her if this position wasn't uncomfortable.

---When your vocal cords move, Yamashita-kun, the way my forehead vibrates, 'bubu-bu,' it's nice.

When she said that, giving me an answer that I wasn't even sure was an answer, I just squeezed her left hand tightly. In the first place, the answer didn't matter at all. I was incredibly happy that Koharu-chan seemed to feel the vibrations just as I felt the sound of the bell. Thinking something as foolish as "this is resonance" makes me realize I'm truly a lost cause.

In the darkness, lulled into a gentle sleepiness by the warm, child-like Koharu-chan, I moved my vocal cords to say, "Good night." Did Koharu-chan's forehead shake for the four syllables of her reply, "Good night, Yamashita-kun"? I pray hard with my right brain that it did, while my left brain wanders toward tomorrow, thinking, "Let's have croissants for breakfast."

"Make sure you throw me away soon, okay?"

That phrase, which made the air in the bedroom tremble, is the sign of the end of the day delivered by Koharu-chan. I squeezed her left hand to signal that I had heard her, and finally closed my eyes. All the while thinking from the bottom of my heart that I really do love that milk-tea-like voice.

I met Koharu-chan on a cold, clear night. Her throat, as she smoothly swallowed sparkling wine, was bewitchingly beautiful. Thinking about it now—no, even without thinking about it again—it was love at first sight. After I poured out the emotions that were boiling over inside me without even understanding why, Koharu-chan shrugged her shoulders as if troubled and said:

"I'm already full up just owning myself. I can't hold anything else."

Ah, the end of love is so abrupt. Or rather, from her perspective, it hadn't even begun. Even though I thought that with a head that was suddenly sobering up.

"When my role is over, you'll throw me away properly, right? Don't get lonely, okay?"

A lukewarm heat pack was pressed against my cheek, and my gaze was scooped up as if to test me. I can no longer escape from those black eyes, heavy with moisture. So, there was no other possible answer to the question "Is that okay?" than "Yes." From there, the night turned into morning in the blink of an eye, and then the next night came. Even now, when Koharu-chan has come close enough to be within two tatami mats, I remain the same, just pining for her endlessly.

｜

When I call out "I'm home," there is no usual drawn-out reply. When I open the living room door, Koharu-chan, who is on the phone, mouths "Welcome home" and smiles at me. Am I crazy for feeling satisfied with just that and wanting to open a beer?

---Aki-chan, you're happy with that, right? Then that's fine. It's useless to tell those people, you know, it's a parallel line. ---Yeah, yeah. Me? I'm fine. I'm healthy and having fun every day, that's all. Yeah, see you later, let's go for a drink again sometime. Okay, bye.

Koharu-chan, having hung up the phone, finds me actually cracking open a beer in the kitchen and approaches with a smirk.

“Well, well, starting already at this hour?”
I already knew she would open the refrigerator door before she even finished saying that.

“You could have kept talking on the phone, you know.”
“Ah, it’s fine. I was just finishing up. My sister. Apparently, our parents are being annoying about her getting married soon.”

The beer we drink sitting at the counter from the evening on always tastes better than usual, no matter what.

“Koharu-chan, so you have an older sister. Is she marrying her boyfriend?”
“Yeah, he’s six years older. They get along well. She has a boyfriend but doesn’t, it’s a passionate affair, hehe.”

“Hey, should we boil some edamame?” humming, Koharu-chan rummages through the back of the freezer. As if drowned out by the cheerful melody, I couldn’t react at all to the sudden new information.

“Aki-chan, oh, my sister,”
Koharu-chan, who suddenly starts talking while boiling edamame in a frying pan with a beer in one hand, looks incredibly happy.

“She says it’s fine because even if it’s an affair, she feels like she owns that person. That’s pretty messed up. Aki-chan used to be more laid-back. Love really changes people, doesn’t it.”

“Oh crap, Yamashita-kun, the colander, quick!” At Koharu-chan’s panicked voice, I lost the timing to speak again. There was a thud as the sink gave way to the hot water. Perhaps that was the sound of my heart breaking.

“Koharu-chan, about that,”
I moved to the living room and, while popping a piping hot edamame into my mouth, tried to muster the courage to speak, but I couldn’t continue, pathetically. Koharu-chan, who peeked at me with an edamame in her mouth, saying “Huh?”, is incredibly cute. She’s always cute.

“...Are you born in spring? Is your sister born in autumn?”
I was surprised. The things I really wanted to ask had turned into completely different words the moment they spilled from my mouth. Besides, what a stupid question. I’m sure she’s been asked that about a hundred times in her life.

“It’s easy to tell, right? My parents. But, one is correct, and the other is, sorry, wrong.”
“Eh, one of them? ...Oh, come to think of it, isn’t ‘Koharu-biyori’ (Indian summer) not in spring?”
“Oh, quick. You’re amazing, Yamashita-kun. That’s right, everyone usually misunderstands, but it’s about those warm days from autumn to early winter. Aki-chan and I were both born around that time. So, since I was born later, I’m Koharu.”

Well, it’s cuter than ‘Early Winter-chan,’ so the result is fine, right? Koharu-chan laughed, and she looked smaller than usual, so I could only bury my temple into her slender right shoulder.

“Oh my, are you already drunk? Are you imitating me?”

Koharu-chan’s vocal cords gently shake my forehead. That is so terrifyingly endearing that I feel like I’m going to cry even more. I don’t need to know about her sister or her birthday. I don’t care if my true feelings of wanting to own you or the fact that love changes people don’t get across. But, I just can’t bring myself to throw Koharu-chan away. I don’t want to throw her away. That fact alone pierces my chest around the clock, and Koharu-chan, who should be within the closeness of two tatami mats, is, and will always be, far away.

“…………Ah, a chidori (plover),”

When I opened my eyes to the quiet swaying, I saw my favorite dimple on her right cheek. It seems I had been sleeping for a little while, and apparently, Koharu-chan’s shoulder is a perfect fit.

“Hmm... are you awake, Yamashita-kun? Geez, you were heavy, you know.”
Noticing that her shoulder was lighter, Koharu-chan is pretending to massage it with a tapping motion. She’s cute even when she’s angry. She’s always cute.

“Alright, my turn.”
Hehe, Koharu-chan laughs and crawls into her usual spot. Her slender left arm clings to me. The comfortable weight and child-like body temperature I’ve completely gotten used to. I’ll just put a lid on the instinctual cry of “I wanted to go to the bathroom” for now. As long as the things essential for living exist within 3.24㎡.

　
Hey, Koharu-chan. If I don’t own you, Koharu-chan, then I can’t throw away what I never had from the start, right? You don’t own me either, so it’s the same. If I said such a sophistry, what would you say? If possible, I’d like you to laugh with a “hehe” in a voice as smooth as milk tea. I’d like you to distort your double-lidded eyes and give me an exasperated look. I want to know how many “todays that couldn’t be thrown away” I can stack up.

A bell chimed softly at my shoulder, and my body swayed. Tonight, Koharu-chan is still a resident of the same world as me. I need nothing else. Only this unshakable reality makes me infinitely happy. Therefore, the answer to the question of whether this is okay could only ever be yes. Even if my tightly clenched left hand was never squeezed back in return.

...

This work was contributed to the February issue of 'Bunkatsu,' a literary magazine that brings stories into daily life. The theme of this month's issue is 'discarding.' It features six works that shine a light on things people no longer pay attention to or things someone has let go of. You can read the full issue of Bunkatsu via the link below, so please take a look.

This is a story from long before they met.
It depicts the 'single act of selfishness' that Koharu's older sister, Aki, chose to pursue.