Not "Me" and "You"

My eyes were closed and hands clasped together.

...We told them what we did once we got back to the orphanage. Let me tell you, Mom and Dad, they were furious.

We've been grounded for the rest of the year, luckily there's only seven weeks left, but that means we can't go out unless it's for school or therapy; we're still allowed peer outings, just not with each other. That doesn't really bother us since I have Akio-kun at school and she has the Shizuko family, plus, we had each other at the orphanage.

Our phones were taken away for a month and they gave us these temporary flip phones so they can still keep contact with us. Again, that doesn't bother us too much, the only downside is I'll miss a few D4Dream events and won't be able to listen to music. Whatever, the crime was worth it. The only punishment that does bother me is the fact that our duties are doubled now.

That's pretty much it, I think. I'm happy the caregivers allowed me to visit you. I can finally remember you guys clearly now, better than when I last came here. Mom, you loved to paint and sell canvases of your work as a job. Dad, you're quite deft with the piano, if only you were able to go pro; both of you guys are suckers for pastries too. You've probably been eager for this moment, and I'm sorry I've kept you waitin' so long. I let you down for the way I've led my new life.

I'm still confused, don't get me wrong, even after a few days of dissectin' the details, but I'm hopin' to get some clarity in my upcoming therapy session. It's been good talkin' with you, thank you.

I stood up from the grave with my eyes on the offering, a Toki apple from Aomori.

"Right, can you relay a message to Yoru's parents? Tell them I want to apologize. I hurt their daughter emotionally, in a blast of problems I created and put off. She's the reason for my happiness in both lives and I didn't thank her for it. I hope they forgive me, let them know I'm goin' to make things right by protecting her. I want to tell her how I feel, about my love for her."

It was Saturday of the same week. I left the cemetery to Doctor Shizuko's house, but first arrived at a different destination beforehand. Despite not technically being allowed to go there, I went inside the pie shop for a quick breakfast. Hara was working the register; it was my first time seeing him since leaving for the trip.

"Vieira-senpai!" he exclaimed. "How's the trip? Where'd you sneak off to? What'd you bring me? How you do'n? What're you up to now?"
He was like a puppy seeing someone come home.
"It'll be the usual order, right?"

"Mhm, thanks. I'm doin' good, currently on my way to therapy to talk about the trip. There's a lot I have to tell you about, but I'll do it at school when I give you your souvenirs; you'll like it."

After a moment of waiting, I was handed my slice of key lime pie and matcha latte to go.

"Thanks. See you soon, Akio-kun—"
I noticed a dim change in color across his face.
"What's wrong?"

He looked at the floor with a ponderous face.
"Can I make a request? It might be too much t'ask."

I grew curious. My underclassman was having trouble with something and it was my job to assist.
"Hit me with it, I'll do my best to help."

He was trying to find the right words to ask. Once he did, he took a deep breath and cleared his throat.
"Can I go with you t'see your therapist… I think I might need t'talk to one too."

My eyes widened as I was taken aback.
"W-Wow, I wasn't expectin' that. Um, is everything okay with your mom?"

"Yeah, things are fine. I just...I just want a place t'vent and she's too fragile t’hear me out. She agrees that I should see one too, so we've been look'n for one."

I'd believed families were supposed to tell everything to each other, but maybe when something was even partially broken it was easier for the rest of it to fall too, which explained his caution. I looked at the time and saw that I'd be running late soon.

"Akio-kun, if you can get off work now, I'll take you. My therapist is a venerable man and will take a walk-in for me."

"You f'real? On it!"
He didn't hesitate to go upstairs.

I waited for him outside by the garage door for a few minutes. Eventually he came out in his regular clothes, since it was before the lunchtime rush, his uncle and mom said they could handle the business. I led him to Doctor Shizuko's house.

He said, "I wish we'd hire more people to work there, business always booms for bakeries this time of year. Pop rocks?"

I'd finished my key lime pie and was sipping the remainder of my latte.
"I'm quite full now, so no thanks."

"Gotcha."

We arrived at the house and I ushered him to the waiting room where Doctor Shizuko was already waiting for me.

"Good to see you again, Chamaru-kun. Who's this you've brought with you?"
He walked over to shake hands with Hara.

"I'm Hara Akio, a second-year student in high school. I burdened Vieira-senpai with bring'n me here 'cause I feel like I need t'talk about some things that have been bother'n me lately."

"I see. I'm Doctor Shizuko, I've been Chamaru-kun's therapist for roughly five years. I—"

"Daddy?" interrupted a fourth party entering the room. "Did you start work already?"

Hara and I turned and looked down to see little Etsuko still in her morning pajamas. She cuddled a stuffed raccoon in her left arm and was transfixed on the boy she hadn't seen before.

"Are you daddy's new patient?" she asked him, rubbing her eyes.
Once her vision became clearer, she realized his physique.
"Woah, you're giant! Bigger than Matcha-chan!"

He turned towards me with a raised eyebrow and a slightly amused smile. He didn't question her take on his figure, but at my nickname.
"Huh, 'Matcha-chan'? I'm go'n t'start call'n you that too."

"What~?!" she pouted. "That's my name for him, make up your own."

He took a step forward and crouched down to be eye-level with her, his amused smile turned genuine the more they looked at each other. He patted her on the head and frizzed her hair more than it was already.

"Gotcha kid, you make the rules."
He stood back up and faced me.
"Senpai, do you know what tea is in Hindi?"

"Chai?" I responded.

"Exactly. I knew you'd get it, Chaimaru-senpai."

Etsuko and her dad both snickered at the name. To get Doctor Shizuko to smile at anything was an awardable feat, let alone laugh. I also couldn't fight the grin Hara was hoping for.

"That's a good name~! Hey, can you come up with one for another one of my friends?"

"I'd love to, but it looks like you just got out of bed and haven't eaten. Your stomach will get hungry, why don't you feed it now so you'll have plenty~ of energy t'be creative afterwards? We'll talk names later."

"Oh, okay!" she cheered. "My daddy's fantastic at his job, so you won't regret talking to him! Talk later then."

She left the room and we turned back to Doctor Shizuko. He directed his narrowed eyes at Hara.

"You handled her pretty well. Usually, her interest in a new person overtakes her other priorities like hunger. Even Chamaru-kun had a hard time getting used to how persistent she was at first."

I said, "That shouldn't be surprisin'."

"Your daughter reminds me of my little sister. She was equally talkative and intrigued by people. Her chipper attitude when speak'n to 'em was one of her best qualities."

"Was, you say?"
Doctor Shizuko shifted his eyes to me, and I gave him a pout of unfortunate confirmation.
"Very well Akio-kun, I do have some free time in my schedule. Take a seat here while I have my session with Chamaru-kun, I'll see you once we're done."

Hara displayed an open smile and bowed.
"Thank you, Shizuko-sensei."

For most of my session, I was lectured by Doctor Shizuko about the Aomori trip and the dangerous "what if's" that could have happened. But in contrast to the caregivers' many lectures, I paid attention here because his words somehow resonated with me more. After his inescapable monologue, he switched gears.

"I must say, I'm very proud of how much you've changed since the peer outings began five months ago."

"Have I? If I did, it's all thanks to the girl who invited me to the first outing."

We talked about the positives of the trip, like seeing a new side of Japan and diving deeper into the knowledge and passion people had about a singular fruit. More importantly, we talked about the return of my memories along with my feelings for Ringomori, because I used my other senses to see the situation at its purest. On the topic of her, I wanted to confirm something with my therapist.

"You knew about my past with her, didn't you?"

Doctor Shizuko slouched back in his chair and rubbed his chin.
"Indeed, I did. I didn't tell you because I stuck to the laws of confidentiality, but she instructed me that if you ever figured it out on your own, then I can speak about it."

"Confidentiality? So the things you talked to her about were of me? How long have you known her?"

"I knew of her around the time her father fell ill, because my wife was her family's doctor. I met her because we'd often intersect paths either at my house or the hospital and she'd sometimes talked to me about her situations with the loss of her father and a 'dear friend.' She hadn't told me your name, but because I'd been treating you for a couple years at that point, I connected the dots based on the timeline of your circumstances. I know losing both parents and a cherished friend is a heavy tool, so when she entered the orphanage, I had her made as my patient. Then you moved into her place and you both brought each other together."

I scratched the back of my head.
"Did she talk to you about choosin' not to tell me about our past?"

He ran his fingers through his hair.
"She made that decision on her own, but I didn't agree with it and wanted to help you realize quicker for her sake. But she made your past a large part of our discussions, which meant I had to abide by the law and not tell you."

"So that's why you told me to see the world with my other senses. You were countin' on the Proust effect to bring my memories back."

"Partially."
He sat up straight and took a deep breath.
"I used to have the same eyes as you, ones that saw everything as gray. It was speeches from survivors of war who partook in rebuilding the new world that taught me how to see with more than sight. Even if your memories didn't come back, I was hoping that using all of your senses can make you appreciate your new life. How's that been going?"

"Those senses are the reasons why I fell in love with her again."

"Sounds like something only she's capable of."

I pondered his response.
"Shizuko-sensei, have you ever thought of her like a daughter?"

He expressed perplexity, either at my question or how I was rarely invested into this therapy session. His eyes transfixed on the glass table between us, his fingers rhythmically tapping the tablet screen that rested on his lap, and his mind likely replaying his memories with her to formulate an answer.

He said, "She's definitely like a sister to Etsuko. I'm close with all of my patients, though most of them are far older than you two so I don't develop any parental instincts when talking to them. You two are different, her especially considering the connection to my wife. Oh, you should ask her that question, I'm sure she'll answer for me as well."

My session ended. The two of us entered the waiting room where Hara should still be waiting. He was sitting on the couch talking with Etsuko, who appeared to have finished breakfast and went straight to dessert. She had a bag of pop rocks in her hand and was hysterically laughing at the cracking in her mouth while Hara was reading a dessert recipe book. I don't think I had ever seen him smile this much before.

"Hara-san," called Doctor Shizuko, "I'll be seeing you in my office now."

Hara set down the book beside Etsuko and astutely stood up to bow.
"Yes Shizuko-sensei, on my way."
He turned to Etsuko.
"That was fun, I'll be recreate'n these at the bakery when I get the chance."

"Yay~! Can't wait to taste-test them! Thanks for the pop rocks, please bring more next time."

"For sure. Finally someone accepts them," he said while slowly shifting his eyes towards me.

"You never found the right time to ask," I protested. "Anyways, I'll be headin' back now. You should know your way from here, so good luck in there, Akio-kun."

"Right, thanks again for bring'n me here, Chaimaru-senpai. I owe you big time for this."

I said goodbye to everyone and headed for the front door. Small yet loud footsteps sprinted behind me and I turned around to see Etsuko overtake me to reach the door first.

She opened it like a hotel worker and asked, "Will Yasumi-chan be coming later?"

"Mhm," I confirmed, patting her adorable little head.

Returning to the orphanage, I realized I was missing her.

Her. The only girl I'd ever miss.

I'd see her soon, but only for frivolous duties. I was eagerly anticipating our next peer outing when our punishment ended. The outing I'd tell her everything.

Ringomori returned to the orphanage before dinner started. We did our duties and ate dinner with the rest of the orphans. I was then tasked with taking out the trash for the day and returned to see Ringomori going upstairs to her room; I went to mine. We hadn't spoken much since the trip, though we managed to secretly exchange contact info for our flip phones. Things were difficult because our interactions were limited; almost.

It was Sunday morning and I had gone to the kitchen for a pre-breakfast snack. To my surprise, Ringomori, the heavy sleeper and late riser, was already there eating a snack herself; one that she made. She held a small glass cup filled with apple compote.

I knew she'd cooked enough for two, proven by the second cup filled with the same dessert that I graciously took. We stood by the counter that had the sink, I saw the dirty utensils used to make the dessert, and she told me I could leave it for her to wash, but I offered to do it. While I washed and occasionally took a bite of my dessert, she told me about her visit to the Shizuko household.

"They loved the souvenirs I made for them in Aomori. After leaving Shizuko-sensei's office, Etsuko and Itō-sensei showed me where they displayed them all. Etsuko was especially delighted by the candle she kept in her room. She asked me to ask you why you didn't give her anything."

I dried my hands with a towel.
"I gave her a friend that'll give her pop rocks, she should be thankful. Maybe I'll present her with a drawing of some kind."

"That's a good idea, it could be either of her or something special to her. I bet she'd tape it to the ceiling of her room as well."

I took a bite of a spoonful of compote.
Looking at her, I thought, A drawing of them two would fit that criterion.

"Have you handed over your souvenirs yet, Chamaru?"

"I will tomorrow."

She finished her dessert and handed me the cup and spoon; I finished mine at the same time. As I was washing the glassware, Ringomori leaned her head over the counter, I could feel her stare beyond my peripheral. I turned off the water and gave her my attention.

She said, "Can I ask you a serious question?"

"U-Uh," I said involuntarily.
I was thrown off-guard; a churning feeling was swishing around my chest. If I were a dog, my ears would be perked and my head would be forty-five degrees slanted; maybe that was still true for my human self. Instead of denying it and living in blissful ignorance, I nodded my head.

She took a few steps closer until we were nearly nose-to-nose, only avoiding touch because of our height difference.
"Do you feel depressed?"

I looked into her eyes, so glimmering and soulful, yet able to still show me it. I could see my own eyes in her reflection. I could see the anxious doubt within them.

My eyes disconnected with her and I turned my body around, placing my hands on the counter behind me and leaned back on it.
"Anyone else that's experienced the same five months as me would be far from depressed, and rightfully so."

She copied my posture, placing her elbows on the counter and facing forward.

I continued, "When you start from zero, those experiences can only amount to a positive number, but for me—for us—our journey started deep in the negatives. While the experiences were amazing, I felt like they'd only balanced out what I'd been feelin' for the past six years. It feels...scummy, like I should be feelin' something more from it, like I don't deserve these moments because I can't make the most out of them. That's the struggle of depression that no one without it can understand; there isn't a definitive satisfaction, but there is lingering doubt."

From outside the kitchen, we were able to hear the younger orphans running around the living room, laughing and teeming with joy.

She said, "I'm happy we're the only ones here with inordinate depression problems. Those kids, while still unfortunate, can still experience fun in the moment without a worry in the world."

"Hey," I turned my head with a grin, "we can have fun too y'know. But yeah, it is harder to do so without havin' second thoughts all the time."

I returned my gaze before me, feeling my cheeks tickle pink with what I was going to say.
"It's funny how—only recently—my way of fun always involves you with me. If anything, it wasn't much 'me' and 'you' but more like 'us.'"

Upon saying that, Ringomori shouted, "That’s it!" and leaped forward.
My startled hands shook the counter and I nearly knocked over a glass jar because of it. She'd suddenly gone into fifth gear and I asked her why.
"I have another idea for us."

Once she regained her balance and focus, she said, "We often message and say to each other: 'Don't join the parents' because it only applies to us, correct? We also agreed to meet up at oddly specific times to better remember appointments, with the small perk of confusing people who aren't aware, correct?"

"Yeah, those are the reasons."

"We do it because it's fun, because it only applies to us and I find that special. Our unique similarities are special to me. So, at least for us, I dislike single-type pronouns like 'She' and 'He' and 'My' and 'Your' because they refer to one's own experiences and desires. However, since the two of us share those experiences and hopeless desires with each other and only each other, I'd like to suggest something."

"What is it?"

She stood in front of me, my back still against the counter.
"When we talk to each other, or to other people about each other, we use plural pronouns instead."

"So like, we'd use 'We' and 'Our' instead of the singular ones you mentioned?"

She amply nodded her head.
"Mhm. This will confuse people, and that's the joke that only we can understand!"
She seemed to have caught up to her own frisson of excitement with a few rapid blinks, reverting to her normal self.

"If it seems like too much to do, or if it's an asinine idea, you can tell me."

In her eyes, I saw the passion she had for her suggestion. I wanted to tell her here and now about my feelings, but I was also frightened of whether she would reciprocate them. To suggest something like this was probably an indicator itself, but to see her true feelings on our canoe required a bit more observation.

"Let's do it," I declared.

Her lips parted and revealed a white, glimmering glow.

That smile of hers—that was so rare for others to see—always reassured me in more than one way. The punishments put a damper on the rest of our year, but this new inside joke would uplift our moods to the end.

I said, "So we'd [I'd] even do this, even if we [You] weren't with us [Me], but we [I] was...talkin' about us [You], right?"
I had a mental stroke.
Did I do that right?

She stared at me with understandable confusion, but quickly burst out with mirth. It wasn't a chuckle or giggle, but genuine laughter at my poor attempt to use our inside joke. I'd like to see how she'd do.

She said, "Yes, we [You] would. Using our fingers could make it easier as well. Like this," she pointed at me or herself, "we're [I'm] not busy today, are we [You]? If not, would we [You] like to join us [Me] in doing leisure activities?"

Something told me this inside joke wasn't a spontaneous idea.

"This is goin' to be really complicated."

"Fufu," she giggled. "Mayhaps we should only do this with others when talking about each other. At least for now."

"We can still do it with each other, just when the timing is right. Like during a funny or memorable moment."

"When the timing is right?" she repeated.
A broad smile followed.

We continued the rest of our day together.

Monday was the first day of school since the trip. Everyone in class reminisced about the fun times they wished they could go back to, talking about the different sights they saw and activities they did. Admittedly I was doing the same, the only differences were the location of the trips and the experiences within them. I also had no one to talk about it with until lunch.

I met Hara at the bench and summarized my rogue school trip to Aomori, leaving out unrelated details such as certain events at the hotel. Utilizing the plural pronouns when appropriate, he was left immensely confused.

"Here," I said, handing over his souvenir. "I carved it myself at the festival, it's vanilla."

"That's sick, apple-shaped and everything. I don't really use candles, but I do like the smell of vanilla a lot. It'll be cozy t'use for the upcome'n winter season, it gets cold easily upstairs. Thanks for this, Chaimaru-senpai!"

I expected him to accept it, but not with too much excitement. It was comforting to see he was appreciative of it with his approving smile.

I said, "Let me give you your mom's one too."

"No, give it to her yourself."

"I can't. As a result of my punishment, I'm ordered to return to the orphanage immediately after school ends, at least for this semester."

"You defied them t'go off to another island, what's a house only a few minutes away? It'll just be t'drop it off to her."

I didn't have much of an argument despite knowing the orphanage themselves would. Since it was up to me to decide, I sided with Hara. After school, I sneakily and hastily walked over to the pie shop to deliver Miss Hara her souvenir. We sat on the couch of the upstairs living room.

"It's called 'Autumn Vibrancy.' Apparently it's a culmination of multiple scents that represent the season, like cinnamon, pumpkins, and apples. I tried carvin' the apple wax to make it look like one of those maple tree leaves."

"Oh my," she said, "this is a lovely and assiduous design. There isn't a scratch or prick anywhere else on this surface."

"Well, I used Akio-kun's candle to test out my carvin' skills, but I'd like to think they both turned out fine."

"It's a beauty, Ocha-kun."
I had sort of expected it, but she leaned in to hug me. Since my accident, she'd been the only person to give me a parental hug. It stuck more with her nickname for me, similar in style to the one she had for her son.
"I appreciate the fact you thought of us on your journey. We're quite lucky to have you in our lives."

My heart was tingling. The spoken language was a funny concept. Only humans had the ability to conjure sound in a certain cadence that allowed speech to be possible, and it was a bizarre concept to think such sounds were able to affect the epicenter of human emotions. With my memories reminding me what having a family felt like, I'd like to believe these two were the closest resemblance to that bond I once had, even despite the couple of months I'd known them, if only it was official.

I stayed for nearly an hour, mainly tutoring Hara on school subjects he was struggling with while also studying for my upcoming finals. I wouldn't have minded staying longer but explained that I needed to check in at the orphanage soon and left in a hurry. Arriving at the orphanage, I fibbed the excuse that I wanted to study more at the school library for my final exams next month and would be arriving at this time more often.

For the next few hours, I spent my time with Ringomori doing homework. We studied two different concepts due to our schools and didn't necessarily have to ask one another for help, but being close proximity was more than enough. My excursion from school to the pie shop to the orphanage happened every other day of the week.

It wasn't until Friday that I instructed Ringomori to visit the pie shop as soon as school ended; she fibbed the same excuse. We studied and tutored, played games for breaks, listened to the special music on the vinyl, and received university advice from Miss Hara—a graduate from Waseda University in Tokyo.

On Tuesday of our second week of punishment, Ringomori and I harvested an idea. After school, instead of going to the pie shop, we returned to the orphanage and I continued to teach her how to draw—starting off with simple meadows, shifting the stances.

"It's surprisin' how accurate you are with perspective angles. I guess video recordin' has helped a lot with that."

"That seems to be accurate, but figuring out the proportions is still knackering. I can envision how it's supposed to be illustrated in my head, but it's difficult to translate it to paper. Is there a way to get better at it?"

I taught her a few methods and she'd put them into practice for the next few hours, but I wasn't the only teacher. Nearing dinner, she showed me a visual lesson in baking. I was taught how to make dessert for tonight, which was a plate of delectable cookies with multiple toppings.

She said, "I can't wait to watch these videos back. These will make funny compilations with the number of times we've both failed."

"Videos about my baking will probably be longer with how common those acrid failures were. Like how it took me ten minutes to finally not burn the cookie dough."

"Don't be hard on yourself. Amazingly enough, you're quite the fast learner, faster than I am at drawing."

"I'm just eager to learn from the best teacher. I'll make sure to thank you with an apple on your desk."

"Did you know that apples are often given to teachers because they've long symbolized education. Kids in Europe used to give their teachers apples to compensate for their poor wages. On the American frontier, where teachers lived with the families of their students, kids on farms would give the then abundant crop as a token of their appreciation. More recently, their school year started in peak harvested season, which I think is very lucky for them; cherry blossoms are great as well, just not as tasty."

"Do you give them to Shizuko and Itō-sensei? Or is there something else to give to doctors?"

"It became a widespread tradition to give an apple to someone who's taught you plenty. It doesn't have to be someone whose profession is a teacher, but anyone who has taught you something valuable to heart is worthy of gifting an apple to."

It that were the case, there would be quite the increasing number of people I'd gift an apple to. Maybe with more practice, I can start gifting apple pastries too.

Our time in punishment wasn't all rewards though. As if taking out the day's trash wasn't enough, I was also assigned to clean the bathroom at the end of the week. Ringomori had similar duties, duties given only to bad kids. Still, we only felt it was right to be conscientious about it since we caused so much trouble for the caregivers.

On our third week of punishment—the last week of November—I went on my third peer outing for the month. It wasn't mandatory since I hit the minimum, but I did it to show myself I can hack it with someone I wasn't used to.

It was with a random boy who wanted to visit the Hokkaido Museum of Modern Art. The journey wasn't abhorrent, we found a few interesting works that piqued both of our interests. It was a nice experience, though of course I'd love to have come with Ringomori. Nevertheless, it felt like an achievement to get through the day without distress or apprehension. Ringomori had a similar experience with another orphan.

My post-outing therapy session happened Tuesday morning. I'd miss out on homeroom and first period, but it wasn't like there was any love lost there. When I entered the waiting room, I saw Etsuko reading a book while eating a pack of pop rocks. There were many wrappers on her lap—each one a different flavor.

"Is Akio-kun spoilin' you too much?" I asked, sitting next to her. "How often is he comin' in to give you that many?"

"You're just jealous of Kaede-chan," she replied. "The only things that can be spoiled are anime and food, and I'm neither of those."

Kaede-chan? Is that Akio-kun now? Well, anyway, "That's not what I asked, I'm not jealous. And you are correct about those things, but also, you're bein' spoiled."

She pouted, "I'm not spoiled because we're running a stable economy. In return for the pop rocks, I give him vanilla chocolate cups."

"Okay, now I'm jealous. You never gave me anything like that."

"Eeh~? Don't you have someone else who can literally make those?"

She was correct, I did. No offense to this bean here, but I'd much rather be offered sweets from the girl I had a crush on. I'd bring it up at my next lesson.

As I returned to the orphanage, I thought to myself how the weeks of punishments brought up many awards I may not have discovered if the trip to Aomori never happened. Each day, I became more grateful for that peer outing.

It was the third of December. The snow made itself known after persistent nights of falling and blanketing the city in a flat, fluffy marshmallow. I sat in my room reading the latest manga volume Ringomori had given me; it was quite a thick one.

I hadn't been able to see her recently because she had caught a cold and didn't want me or anyone else to be infected by it. I wasn't susceptible to colds as much because my body was accustomed to the Hokkaido winter, which was why I was unaffected by the inferior Aomori storm. Ringomori would have been the same as me if it wasn't for her body's poorer health conditions.

I did my normal routines for the rest of the week without catching even a peak at her, caught in the cycle of school, study, duties, sleep, repeat. Every time I went downstairs, I'd pass her room. She already hung up the Aomori wreath on her door, every time I looked at it, I became crestfallen that I couldn't see her; it felt like the first time I was truly punished.

On Friday, I flopped out of my bed onto the floor, bringing my arm up to grab the flip phone on the nightstand. I sent a message informing her that I finished her manga, but didn't receive a response, like my previous dozen.

I thought, Finally, tomorrow's the day we get our smartphones back. I can finally play D4Dream and listen to music again! A few more weeks and we'll be done with all our punishments.

The major reason I didn't confess to her all this time thus far was because if she were to reciprocate my feelings, I'd want to celebrate it. I did come to a concrete conclusion, I'd confess at our next peer outing, which would be in the new year.

I was called for kitchen duties and ate with the rest of the orphanage, except her. Returning to my room, I checked my flip phone once again to see if she'd responded, but she didn't. I surmised she was either sleeping or didn't see the message yet. I picked up the manga from my desk and went to her room to drop it off.

I knocked on her door and there was no answer, which led me to believe she was being the heavy sleeper that she was. Instead of entering without permission, I looked around for a caregiver. It was logical to think they'd enter her room now and then to check on her recovery, so I approached one that I knew she was close to.

"Kaya-san, can you deliver this book to Yoru the next time you go to our [Her] room?"
I presented the book to her expecting her to grab it and agree, but she simply flickered her eyes between it and me.

At first, I believed her bemused expression was due to the inside joke, but then she said, "You don't know the current situation?"

I mirrored her expression, except more worrisomely. That was enough to answer her question, and it looked like she was struggling to say what she was talking about. She eventually broke the news to me—ignorance was bliss.

"Ringomori-san hasn't been here all week. She was admitted to the hospital."