The Talk

The airport was, as expected, filled with people. Some of them were just like Nami, waiting for someone to return from far across the world, while others were preparing to begin their journeys to who knows where. The sound of automatically rolling suitcases could be heard from every direction, accompanied by the chatter of travelers and airport workers.

It was supposed to be a happy reunion, but the only feeling accompanying Nami right now was anxiety. Although she was happy to see Tsukasa again, safe and sound back in their country, all she would soon do was bring him pain.

Despite being perfectly informed of what time the plane was landing—and given that, like most other forms of transportation, it was almost never delayed—Nami arrived an hour earlier. She could have spent this hour under her blanket, lying cozily while listening to some music, but no. She was too antsy to relax, so she decided it would be better to just wait for the inevitable. Now, looking at the arrival board, she could clearly see the plane number Tsukasa was on, with the text “offboarding complete” displayed beside it.

And soon enough, among the crowd, she spotted the tall, black-haired man waving at her. She waved back.

To say he looked different would be an exaggeration, but his posture was no longer timid. He walked straight, no longer hiding his height, and his skin was tanned from the Italian sun. Other than that, he looked exactly like the day he left. And yet, for Nami, nothing was the same anymore.

“I’m back!” he exclaimed as he immediately threw his arms around her, squeezing her tightly. It was an embrace filled with love, but instead of bringing the woman comfort, it awakened her guilty feelings once again. “Did you miss me?” he asked.

“Of course I did!” she replied.

It wasn’t a lie. She did miss his presence, his input on her piano performances, and his rants about the music industry. But there was no romantic longing anymore.

“Come on, let’s get you to the apartment. I actually have… a lot I need to say.”

“You have a lot to say? I thought I was the one who went on the adventure of a lifetime,” he chuckled, but Nami knew he had already sensed her uneasiness. She was glad he wasn’t the type to push the matter right there and then. It wasn’t a conversation to have in public.

He also didn’t comment on the fact that she hadn’t referred to their apartment as “home.”

The ride back was mostly quiet, thanks to Tsukasa. Unsurprisingly, working abroad had given him plenty of adventures and fun stories to share. Nami could tell he didn’t regret taking the job. She was glad for that—it would have been far worse if he regretted leaving only to come back and feel even worse.

When they finally reached their apartment, the mood changed immediately. The moment Tsukasa set down his suitcase, he turned to face Nami and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I… I don’t know where to start, really,” she said, walking toward the table. She stopped in front of one of the chairs, but instead of sitting, she placed her palms on the backrest and gripped it tightly. “I think I’ve changed.”

“I don’t think you have. You look exactly the same as before I left for my job.”

“No, you don’t get it!” the pianist emphasized. “I-I grew fond of someone while you were gone, and… I think those feelings I have for him are stronger than the feelings I have for you.”

The silence that followed her confession was almost unbearable. It took Tsukasa several painful minutes before he let out a sigh. “It’s that Atsushi guy you worked with, isn’t it?”

“Yes…” Nami admitted shamefully. “Just to be clear, we didn’t do anything. There was no intimacy,” she added quickly, feeling the need to point it out.

“So it was only an emotional connection?” he asked.

“…Yes,” she replied.

The black-haired man let out another long, tired sigh.

“I can’t lie or pretend it doesn’t hurt or that I’m not mad.”

“I know, that’s why—”

“But,” Tsukasa interrupted, “if you think I’m just going to accept this and move on, you’re wrong.”

“W-what?” she stammered.

“You said you’ve changed. I don’t think you have,” he said, pacing back and forth now. “Or maybe you did, but not as much as you think. On the other hand, I…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I think I’ve changed a little. That’s why I’m not going to just accept whatever plan you’ve already formed in your head as set in stone.”

“But I—” Nami tried to interject, but he continued.

“Remember your rebel phase? When you suddenly decided you didn’t care about the piano anymore and tried to play the violin instead?” The unexpected analogy left Nami momentarily speechless. “To me, it’s the same situation. You think something will be better for you just because you had a sudden change of heart.”

Trying to collect herself, Nami responded, slightly upset, “I don’t think comparing those two situations makes any sense, Tsukasa.”

“It’s a bit of a stretch, I admit. But it’s a flaw you have,” he said, stepping closer. Intimidated by his unwavering demeanor, Nami instinctively took a step back. “You get easily swayed by new experiences. And yet,” his expression softened, though pain lingered in his eyes, “I still fell in love with you. And I don’t plan on letting you go unless you’re one hundred percent sure.”

The brunette couldn’t hold back her tears any longer. She wasn’t weeping, but single teardrops started running down her reddened cheeks. “How do you do it? How are you still so kind to me? How are you not yelling at me to just get out and never return?”

“Because I love you,” he answered simply, without hesitation. “Do you still love me?”

“I do!” she sobbed, losing all control. “But I feel like I like Atsushi more—as a friend too—but at the same time, I don’t feel good about feeling this way.” She started to rant. “I don’t feel good knowing that these feelings are hurting you. The guilt is eating me alive, and I just—I just don’t know what to do! So I thought that if I let you go, I’d hurt you less. But now… I don’t know anymore!”

“You know, when I was in Italy, Suzuki told me she liked me.”

Nami’s eyes widened. Tsukasa had caught her off guard once again.

“She said that with her, I’d have it easier than with you.” Seeing that Nami didn’t interrupt, he continued. “I think she noticed I was disappointed that our calls didn’t last long. She kept saying how she wouldn’t be able to quit the call if she were you. That’s when I asked myself, ‘Would I even want to make it easier for myself?’ And the answer was ‘No.’ Because I know who I fell in love with. And by wanting to be with you, I accepted you along with your flaws, just as you accepted me with mine.”

Seeing Nami about to argue, he spoke again before she could. “I know my overly caring personality sometimes annoys you. You don’t need to hide that—it’s fine.” He smiled softly. “The real question is: what do you really want to do?”