[Short Story] Please, Meet Me in My Dreams

She has slightly upturned, almond-shaped eyes that make it seem as if she doesn't trust anyone but herself. Her lips are wide, full, and deeply colored, as if they could hold onto anything. That mature aura, which sets her apart from other girls, leads me to indulge in sweet fantasies.
However, it isn't her looks, the fact that she's a reader model, or her being half-Italian that made me fall for her. Those statuses are merely secondary reasons.
I liked Runa Dozome's words and actions, which were far too mature for a seventeen-year-old.

In the first semester, I saw the moment Runa Dozome confessed her feelings to our homeroom teacher, Murakami. It was after school in an empty classroom. From the hallway, I could see Runa Dozome pleading with Murakami, who was shorter than her, hunched over, and wearing a baggy sweatshirt. On my way home after club activities, I had come back to retrieve something I'd forgotten, but for some reason, I felt like I shouldn't open the sliding door, so I stopped with my hand on it. I crouched down slightly so I wouldn't be seen through the small window.

"Teacher, will you go out with me after I graduate?"
I thought I had misheard.
"No way, no way, I'd get arrested for that."
Murakami answered immediately. But Runa Dozome's voice had been trembling. By laughing off the confession—which was clearly not a joke—Murakami had downgraded it into one.

But she didn't back down.
"I won't let you get arrested. I won't, ever."
I was electrified. My fingertips, still resting on the door, throbbed. What is this, a line from a drama?
"I mean, what do you even like about me? I'm just an ordinary middle-aged guy you can find anywhere."
That's right, he's just an ordinary middle-aged guy. I agreed with Murakami in my heart. A 29-year-old math teacher, rumored to be divorced, with a face that's neither good nor bad—if I had to say, it's a bit plain—sloppy clothes, and probably sloppy with women too... No, when I think about it that way, he doesn't just lack special qualities; he has absolutely nothing going for him.
After a brief silence, Runa Dozome said:

"I like that you seem bad at living."

With that heartbreaking voice and sense of word choice, I fell for her instantly. What kind of face are you making right now? I couldn't stand the fact that only Murakami had the right to see it.

When I entered the classroom making a loud noise on purpose, Dozome lowered the corners of her eyebrows and looked disappointed. Her large, light-brown eyes were glistening. Murakami, as if relieved to be saved, told us to go home early, lowered his voice somewhere between me and Dozome, and scurried away.

"Did you hear that just now?"
Her voice was cold and inorganic, two tones lower than when she was talking to Murakami earlier.
"Not a thing."

That was the memorable first conversation between Runa Dozome and me.

●

I don't mean to brag, but I have a strong face. My deep-set features, which don't look very Japanese, were inherited from my father. I'm 180 centimeters tall. And my grades aren't bad either. In fact, if things keep going this way, they're good enough to get me into a decent private university through recommendation.
Even standing next to Runa Dozome—a half-Japanese beauty who is 170 centimeters tall despite being a girl and works as a reader model—I was confident I wouldn't look inferior.

This semester, this was the second time a girl had confessed to me. It's been five times since I moved up to my second year of high school. Eight times in total throughout my high school life. The girl I just turned down left with tears in her eyes, bowing as deeply as she could and saying thank you. I could hear some girls in the nearby science prep room whispering in thin voices, "You did your best," and "You're so brave."

I remember the faces of all the girls who have confessed to me. Their appearances range from the pretty, popular types at the center of the class to the quiet, inconspicuous ones, but I don't really care about their looks.
I make it a rule to always ask why they like me before I give them my answer.

"Because I like Araki-kun's face."
"Because you're kind and easygoing."
"Because I thought it was fun being with you."

Those kinds of trite answers won't cut it. My heart remains unfulfilled. I rejected all eight of them. The guys I usually hang out with tease me, calling me a picky man, but this was the one thing I couldn't compromise on.

"I like that you seem bad at living."

I whispered the phrase I heard Runa Dozome say a few months ago, making sure no one could hear me. An ordinary 17-year-old couldn't come up with words like that, not even if they stood on their head.
If Runa Dozome were to confess to me, what kind of reason would she give for liking me? I'm sure she would say something so interesting I couldn't even imagine it. Because she lives in a different world from everyone else in this classroom.

Runa Dozome doesn't flock with others. Unlike normal girls, she always acts alone. On top of that, she sometimes leaves school early for modeling work. I wonder if someone shows her the notes for the classes she misses. From what I can see, she doesn't seem to have any particularly close friends.

I know that if I were to reach out to her in front of everyone and say, "Do you want to see my notes?" without caring what others think, a war would start because the other girls would be jealous.
Runa Dozome is taking a supplementary class in classical Japanese today. I've already researched that she's the only one in our class taking it. I waited until that time came, pretending to study.

After five o'clock, she returned to the classroom with her notebook and pencil case tucked under her arm.
I stretched lightly and acted as if I had just noticed the time, saying, "Oh, is it already this late?" My heart was pounding for the first time in a while. I cleared my throat lightly and spoke up.

"Dozome-san, it's a bit late now that we're in the second semester, but are you okay with your notes? I've been awake for all the classes, so should I let you see mine?"

The words I had practiced so much in my head came out high-pitched and strangely off-key. Runa Dozome turned back to look at me, her beautiful hair with curled ends fluttering.

"I don't need them. Mr. Murakami gets copies from the subject teachers for me anyway."

Her expression was completely blank. Usually, the girls I've talked to so far would look happy or act flustered and blush. Some girls even pretended not to be interested to get my attention, but this was an overwhelming, absolute nothingness that didn't even suggest that.

"Oh, I see. Got it."

As I waved my hand dismissively, Runa Dozome quickly put on her school bag and left the classroom. Along with the feeling of emptiness from having gained nothing, I felt a sense of acceptance somewhere. Ah, this is the person Runa Dozome is. My chest tightened. It made my heart flutter. I like Runa Dozome, who has no interest in me. To release this excitement, I, a 180-centimeter-tall man, kicked my legs in the empty classroom.

That night, I had a dream about Runa Dozome. Since it was a dream, I called her Luna as I pleased. In the dream, Luna and I were on a date at a coffee shop in front of the station. She had whipped cream from her favorite (presumably) pudding a la mode on her lips, showing a playful side that contradicted her cool appearance.
Drinking black coffee (which I actually dislike in reality), I squinted, wiped the whipped cream off her cheek with my thumb, and licked it off.
Stop doing that.
It's embarrassing. Luna said, her face turning red with anger. When I told her it was her fault for getting it on her face, she got even angrier. But seeing Luna, who is usually cool and expressionless, get angry is quite rare. In gacha terms, it's about SSR level. I saw the phantom of that glittering effect deep behind my eyelids. Even though I knew it was a dream, I couldn't help but be happy.

●

From then on, throughout the rest of my high school life, I dreamed of Luna many times.
In my dreams, Luna showed me many sides of herself. Luna has a sweet tooth. She actually likes pink, but she says she likes black because pink is too cute and doesn't fit her image. She likes rabbits and keeps many Miffy stuffed animals on her bed.
We didn't just go to coffee shops; we went to Disneyland, and we kissed and had sex. In my dreams, I could easily express any embarrassing affection. I could tell her I loved her hundreds of times.
By this time, when I woke up in the morning, the joy of being able to look forward to the day Luna would appear in my dreams again was greater than the sense of loss that she wasn't in my arms in reality. The bittersweetness and fragility of waiting for a lover. I became addicted to this emotional intensity.

On the other hand, things with the real Runa Dozome didn't progress at all. The reason was simple: she rarely came to school anymore.
Runa Dozome had been steadily gaining popularity as a reader model, but one day, her salty response during a food report on a local program went viral on social media, and she suddenly broke out.
The sources of information about Runa Dozome, which had previously been limited to monthly magazines, increased at a tremendous pace day by day, including other magazines, variety shows, segments on morning news, radio, online articles, and her agency's YouTube channel.
I checked every single one of them without missing a beat and compared them with the persona of Luna I had in my head. This was a task to breathe life into the Luna who appeared in my dreams and increase her resolution.
Runa Dozome absolutely hates sweets. Her favorite food isn't pudding a la mode, but salted squid guts. Her favorite color is neither pink nor black, but red. When she sleeps, she uses a Yogibo body pillow.
Her profile was constantly being updated. The only information I couldn't gather was what kind of expression she actually shows to the person she loves. The Luna filtered through my brain always gave me the reactions I wanted, but she lacked a certain sense of reality.

By the time we graduated from high school, Runa Dozome had become a regular weather forecaster on a morning news program. She was a half-Japanese multi-talent who started as a model, handling commercials, guest spots on variety shows, and radio work. She wasn't a copy of anyone; she had a salty, unpretentious character. Runa Dozome wasn't discovered by the world. She was an existence that seemed to have appeared on the glittering stage of the entertainment industry fully prepared.

Runa Dozome, such a popular talent, showed up late to our high school graduation ceremony. She must have come straight from the TV station. During the song for the graduates, she ran in with her eyelids glittering with makeup and secretly lined up at the very end of the back row. She probably intended to be inconspicuous, but everyone there had their eyes on Runa Dozome.
By the time the crowd of people who wanted to take pictures with her after the ceremony had passed, it was already evening.

I had been waiting for this moment.
Today, I would confess to the real Runa Dozome. Having lost all my buttons, not just the second one, but even the ones on my cuffs, and wearing a blazer with only a red flower ornament on my chest, I headed to the back of the gymnasium in high spirits. I had seen Runa Dozome running toward there alone just a moment ago.

Teacher, I love you.

My heart was torn apart. It happened just before I turned the corner and called her name. The voice that had called my name hundreds and thousands of times in my dreams was, in reality, whispering love to another man.

Haha, this is a problem...
Don't try to dodge the question. I've already graduated from high school, you know?

Murakami tried to escape with his usual drawn-out tone, but Runa Dozome corrected him with a strong tone, saying, Hey! Murakami sighed. Then, he began to speak in a tone that was unusually serious and polite, as if he were lecturing.

Ms. Dozome. You are already a respectable entertainer, and before that, you have become an adult. You never know who might be listening to what we're saying here. If someone who bears you ill will were to film this somewhere and leak it online, you would throw away the chance you worked so hard to grab yourself. If you say you're an adult now, you have to be careful about things like that.

Runa Dozome's sobbing voice mixed with Murakami's logical persuasion, which sounded like he was explaining a mathematical formula. Even so, she squeezed out those vocal cords that had just been used to tell the weather to the whole country that morning and shouted.

I'm not afraid of a scandal! Even if I lose my job, if I can be with you, Teacher, I'll be happy.

I sat down quietly, bowing my head so as not to make a sound. I desperately suppressed what was welling up from the bottom of my stomach. As expected, Runa Dozome is the best.

I still haven't heard your answer, Teacher. Forget that I'm your student or an entertainer, and answer me. ...Teacher, Shotaro-san, do you love Runa Dozome as a woman?

I remember Runa Dozome's teary eyes that I saw for a fleeting moment in the classroom during the first semester of our second year of high school. I'm sure she has those same eyes right now.

Murakami muttered as if he had given up, Of course I do.

Here, the story of me and Runa Dozome came to a close. I stood up slowly and left the scene.

Runa Dozome chooses Murakami. Murakami will also choose Runa Dozome someday. Half of my brain actually knew that this would happen someday.
I loved Runa Dozome, who had no interest in me. I loved the mature, cool Runa Dozome that people my age couldn't handle. Even so, it wasn't that I didn't have the slightest desire for her to turn my way. I wanted her to show me that emotion, even if it was just 1% of the smile she showed Murakami. I wanted to know more about the depth of the human being that is Runa Dozome, not through information via the media, but through the living, breathing you.
Surely, for that to happen, I should have talked to her a lot more myself. I've been confessed to many times, but I've never done it myself in my life. It's not even an excuse now, but I didn't know what to do when I fell in love with someone. Even though I used to act high and mighty and ask for reasons from the girls who liked me.

If I had attacked her without caring about my surroundings or my appearance, just like Runa Dozome did with Murakami, would something have changed?
No, that's impossible for the real me. Even though I could whisper the most embarrassing words of love without shame in my dreams.

I like the part of you that seems bad at living.

Someday, I wanted to hear those words from someone, too. But that 'someone' could surely be no one other than Runa Doomae. Not in the past, and not in the future, will anyone else appear.

With a small bouquet of tulips given to me by a junior colleague in one hand, I made my way home, my body heat stolen by the chilled wind of a March evening. I felt as though I would never see Runa in my dreams again.