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There are three rapid knocks at the front door downstairs. Momoe stands up from her desk and untouched homework, exhales—although it does nothing for her nerves—and checks the mirror one last time.
This is stupid, she thinks, it’s Kaoru.
It’s her first summer vacation in a while back in town. Most years she stays at her boarding school for the 40some days, either behind on cram school homework or to keep from inconveniencing her family. However, this year, her parents sent her a shinkansen ticket to come home.
When she had texted Kaoru and told him she was coming back into town, mostly for Panic—leaving her three-legged dog had been the hardest part of boarding school—he had arranged for them to go on a walk.
Saturday, 8 pm? he had asked through text.
sounds good!
Ok. I’ll pick you up
It’s now 7:52. He’s early. That’s unusual. Of the two of them, Momoe has always been the more punctual one.
Well, there’s no more time for daydreaming about her childhood neighbour and worrying about her hair or if Rika’s going to stalk them like she joked yesterday. Momoe readjusts the hem of her white tee, even though there aren’t any wrinkles, and reaches for the door handle.
Kaoru looks the same as she remembered, just a little older. The same yellow hat from first year, a toothy smile, and a strong stance. Only one thing has really changed and it’s—
“You’re tall,” Momoe says softly. To meet Kaoru’s eyes she has to lift her chin, instead of looking down. She’s not used to it. All of the girls at her boarding school are shorter than her.
“I told you I’d be taller than you one day.” Kaoru grins and takes a step back from the doorway, tilting his chin as a gesture for her to come out.
“I had to buy all new clothes,” he continues. “Oh, and I brought you this.” He hands her a blue and pink jacket. “I’ve outgrown it, but remembered you wore it a lot.” Momoe takes the gift in her hands gently. It’s well-worn, with two holes in the respective pockets and an uneven hood string. Kaoru used to wear this when the two of them practiced for track relay in the early mornings back in elementary school, or when they constructed paper boats on really windy days, setting them onto the pond and hoping they’d make it across before they dissolved.
“Thank you,” Momoe says. The two of them turn onto the road. “Where are we going?”
“Yokoshima’s?” The corner store. “Do you still like those peach gummies?”
Momoe nods. He remembered . “I do.”
“Alright,” Kaoru says, and then steps in front of her. He continues to walk, only in front of her. He looks over his left shoulder and half-gestures to his now-empty side. His left side.
“What are you doing?” Momoe’s confused.
“Sidewalk rule.” He points a finger up towards the fading sky, as if this is extremely important information. “A lady should never walk closest to the cars.”
Isn’t that a rule for dates? Momoe clutches the old jacket and falls into step with Kaoru, this time on his left. They’re just friends, right? Elementary friends who are cordial and go for walks sometimes, right?
"Okay," she says, a little lost. What else is she supposed to say? "Thank you."
"Anything for you." Before Momoe can follow the previous train of thought, Koaru nudges her. “Tell me about the band you started. And that crazy bassist you mentioned. Rika?”
Momoe details Wonder Egg, a band she and her three closest friends started. It’s been more challenging than she thought. Neiru, their pianist, is busy with her start-up all the time, and Ai, their primary vocalist, has massive stage fright. Still, it’s lots of fun. They’re all fans of sad songs and have been covering radio tracks for fun.
Kaoru listens well. He tells Momoe about how her old friends that go to his school are doing, how he’s training for the next Kendo competition, and the greatest robotics class he ever attended.
“And then, one of my classmates finally figured out how to make the robot pick up the pork bun, and—” Kaoru pauses his story to pull the door to Yokoshima’s open, and to hold it for Momoe.
“Thank you,” she says, ducking her head. It’s nice to be looked after.
“You’re welcome, my lady.” He grins. Momoe averts her eyes, because she’s sure if he saw them, she’d blush and bring up more old feelings.
It’s not necessarily uncommon for Momoe to have a crush on Kaoru. They’ve grown up together. They’re close. They’ve known each other before they knew much about themselves. One summer in elementary school, they hung out every day to make funny ice sculptures and eat Kaoru’s sister’s cranberry cookies. Right before Momoe had left for boarding school and at the end of that summer, Kaoru had kissed her at Shibuya station, coming back from a fireworks festival together.
If Momoe thinks about that moment for too long, it feels like her heart’s still beating hard enough to hear it, and this wild delight at him having seen all her weird sides and still kissing her.
But after she had gone to high school, neither of them had reached out until Christmas. They just never talked about the kiss, even to this day. Momoe’s feelings have waxed and waned throughout the years. Some days they felt so intense she couldn’t breathe, and other times she would completely forget about his existence.
“Momoe,” Kaoru calls from over the aisle. He’s tall enough that she can see his hat over the snacks. “You good?”
She nods. “Sorry.”
“Tired?” He lifts a shoulder. “Sorry I suggested this so late. We should’ve done something in the afternoon.”
“No.” Momoe shakes her head. “I’m not tired. Just thinking.”
“Care to share?”
Her eyes dart towards the snack aisle. Colourful mascots and bubble letters stare back at her. “If I should get the peach gummies and you should get the matcha pockys and then we can trade some.” When they were kids, they would pool their allowance for two weeks and buy a bunch of treats at the end for a picnic.
“Deal.” Kaoru picked up the matcha pockys and held them up for her to see. Momoe got a bag of peach gummies. Champagne and crimson-coloured bears look back at her. She’s missed these. There’s none at her boarding school.
“Here.” As they’re walking toward the cashier register, Kaoru holds out his hand. Momoe’s confused again.
“Gummies,” he says. With a furrowed brow, Momoe passes them over. Kaoru nods, gives them to the cashier and holds up his card.
“Kaoru!” Momoe whisper-shouts. She doesn’t want to inconvenience the employees. Her hands fumble around the change in her pockets. “I can pay for myself.”
“And you don’t have to.” There’s a beep as his card is scanned. The cashier bows at them. “Consider it a welcome home gift.” He smiles at her, passing Momoe the gummies.
“...Thank you.” It would be impolite to refuse now.
He nods.
The sky is dark blue now. Momoe used to count the clouds on her way home from Yokoshima's when she would fetch ingredients for her mother almost every day. Everyone except her dad in her family is forgetful. It's cold enough that she pulls on Kaoru's old jacket. It feels like a hug.
"Can I have one?" Kaoru reaches for one of her gummies after switching onto her right side. There haven't been any cars. They live in such a rural neighbourhood the only cars that come down these streets are the people that live here.
"Of course," she says. Momoe tilts the bag towards him. "You don't have to ask." They've always shared their snacks.
"How generous." He takes two. Kaoru breaks open the pocky box, fishing out one of the bags to rip into. "Still a heartbreaker, aren't you?"
That's somewhat hypocritical. Still, Momoe sighs at the reminder of the sheer number of girls she's had to turn down this year. The confessions keep getting more and more extravagant, from dozens of lilies that were mailed to her dorm to a public declaration complete with balloons. Momoe remembered the tears that followed.
"I'm not trying to," Momoe says with a shake of her head. "I don't know what it is."
Kaoru hums. "Are you too nice to them?"
"Maybe." But she doesn't want to be mean. And even when she's a little bit harsher, some girls just end up liking her more. There's no way out of it.
She's offered a matcha pocky. Momoe takes it, biting the bare stick part without frosting first. She always eats the cracker part first so she can savour the sweet side.
"I guess it can't be helped," Kaoru says, crunching on his own stick. The two of them swap a pocky for a gummy. "You've always been like that."
"Have I?" Momoe's never been terribly social or respected by her classmates, just confessed to and admired from afar. She has never understood it. They all never really know her when they confess; only what she looks like and maybe shallow conversations she's had with them.
Kaoru hums again. "Yeah. Remember when you used to take girls out for soda because they cried when you turned them down, so they'd just confess to get rejected. And you knew what was happening but couldn't stop it?"
Momoe's cheeks go bright red. She's tried to forget that.
"Thank you for stopping that," she says. Kaoru had told her that was ridiculous and would preemptively turn the girls on her behalf for the rest of the year.
"It was funny." Kaoru breaks his pocky in half. "You haven't accepted any of them, have you?"
Momoe shakes her head. None of the girls know her well enough to truly like her.
"Hm," Kaoru acknowledges. Now that she thinks about it, Momoe isn't aware if Kaoru is seeing someone. She wants to ask, but she doesn't want to make anything weird. Would that be weird? No, it's normal for friends to talk about this kind of stuff. He just asked her, and it was fine.
"Are you?" Momoe takes a risk.
"What?" He leans down to hear her better. They're close.
"Are you seeing anyone?" Saying it twice puts more emphasis on the question.
"Oh," he says. "Nah."
Momoe nods. A weird ball of tension releases in her chest. They turn onto their street. She holds out her hand for another pocky, and gets two. The matcha is a perfect match with the peach gummies. She makes a note inside her head to buy some of both before she leaves for school again.
"Let me walk you back to your house, yeah?" Kaoru grins.
They live next to each other. Less than 20 metres apart. "Alright." Momoe humours him.
Quiet comes over them for a moment, and Momoe's mind races as they trade snacks.
Why hasn't he accepted a confession? Is he waiting for someone else? Can she ask about it without seeming too nosy?
This is stupid, she thinks. It's Kaoru.
Yet, that in itself is enough reason. It’s Kaoru.
"You're heading back on Monday, right?" They stall in front of Momoe's front door. The light from her foyer is only enough to see shadows of his face. She has to look up to meet his eyes.
"Yes," she says. "3 pm train ticket."
"Let me drop you off at the station?"
"It's Shibuya." That's out of the way for him. She has to take a bus to get there.
"I know." It's also where they kissed a few summers ago. That might not mean anything, Momoe reminds herself.
"Okay," she says.
"I'll pick you up at two?" The stars are out.
"Sounds good."
There's a shift, and it feels like her heart’s pounding through her shirt, and her butterflies become frantic. She imagines this is how girls feel before they confess to her. Like they might puke or laugh or just fall over.
"It's cold outside. You should go inside," Kaoru says with a soft smile.
She nods, and doesn't want to move, but does anyway. "Thank you for the walk." A slight bow.
“Anything for you.” Kaoru tips his hat at her. "Welcome home."