Chapter 5: Ability Five: Being Persistent

I sluggishly opened my eyes and turned at the windows.

My eyes twinged, dried tears stinging them. I blinked and rubbed them off, then looked around me with blurry vision.

I managed to get some good hours of sleep, but it was shallow.

Every little creak in the apartment kept me half-awake, like my body was waiting for something

Another, maybe concern. Not just for my body, but for Ayase.

I turned to my digital alarm clock and it read 12:14.

Outside, no extra clang of utensils. No sweet aroma of freshly cooked food. No sweet humming.

Probably, no Ayase.

If she already left, then I'm back to the days I used to wake up a thousand times before.

Just me and only me.

I don't know if I should feel delighted and concerned with this, but the fact that I'm quietly seeking for her presence haunted me.

Why does this...strange girl clicked in my life suddenly like a missing puzzle piece?

Why did I start to care for another being besides myself?

I don't know how to answer that myself.

I stared at the ceiling and tried to imagine Ayase.

I can't. I don't understand.

I am afraid.

And I hate myself for doing what I did last night—letting emotions get ahead of me.

Maybe…I'm already regretting how I acted last night.

And a part of me is searching for her image. Her scent. Her kindness.

If she ever stayed with me today, I promise myself to grab hold of my emotions.

I gripped on the bedroom door.

"Please, just be here."

I slowly turned it, and pulled it open.

And what welcomed me outside plucked at my heartstrings.

My breath caught, and I immediately crouched over next to her.

Ayase slumped against the wall, sleeping with a pile of folded laundry and school uniforms as her makeshift pillow. Beside her was a tray containing tea, still lukewarm, toasted bread and a set of bento.

"..."

I leaned forward and observed her face closer, the damage of last night’s turmoil was real. Dry tears seared below her puffy eyes. Her body, still in tremors—showed signs of fatigue. Her breathing still carried weight—probably unspoken words and emotions that wrestled her overnight.

A wave of remorse went through me, and I chose to exhale the feeling with a sigh.

I slipped one arm below her back and one below her knees, and gently lifted her onto my bed.

"Why..." I whispered internally, "Why do you persist in making me question everything?"

She made an uncomfortable sound. It sounded like pain. But I ignored it and laid her down.

I just sat on one side of the bed, keeping a safe distance and silently observed her.

Her eyelashes fluttered open for half a second, showing bloodshot eyes.

“G-good morning, Ishida-san…” she muttered, voice hoarse from deep sleep. “I’m so sorry for last night.”

I froze. I could see it—she’d stayed up until the early hours, her body pushing past its limits until it gave out entirely. Even now, she forced herself to rise, as if the simple act of resting was something she didn’t think she deserved.

For a moment, I wanted to say something—to apologize, to tell her to go back to sleep.

But the thought passed as quickly as it came.

Ayase was a distraction. A beacon of my hidden softness, one that threatened to pull me away from the anger that kept me moving forward.

...yet with that anger, am I really able to move forward with life?

I took a clear look at myself, and my heart tore.

Maybe I didn't after all.

"Just go to sleep again. You have nothing to apologize for. But I do." I mumbled.

Seeing her like this crushed me so I turned and walked away.

Standing behind the closed door, I knelt to the tray she arranged for me.

I wanted to thank her for the toast, the tea and the bento, but I have no classes on the weekend.

Instead, I go to my part time work and take a full shift.

I cannot let any effort from her go to waste, so I ate a piece of toast and sipped my tea, trying not to remember how stupid I was lashing out frustrations on someone who has done nothing but try to help me.

Bitterness clung to my throat. But I didn’t spit it out.

I never deserved anyone's pity with this kind of attitude.

Ayase never deserved being pushed away when she is too gentle for my own good.

If I kept doing so, how was I any better than those monsters who hurt her?

I wasn’t.

***

After a short visit in the convenience store, I slowly walked up to my bed and put the plastic bag at the study table.

Ayase was in a deep sleep. Her chest rose and fell peacefully, and she curled up and embraced a body pillow.

I reached for a clean blanket over my drawer and placed it over her. She shifted and stirred, but didn't wake up.

After that, I locked myself in the bathroom. I gripped into the shower pole, like how Ayase’s actions gripped my heart like vices.

My reflection in the fogged mirror stared back at me, accusing and hollow.

I huffed as I recounted—how the least earnest act could lead her into sacrificing so much of herself—for someone who never asked for it?

Water ran cold at my body, but it didn’t wash away the feelings of discomfort.

The sight of Ayase—still trying, still pushing, even after everything—stirred something sharp in me.

I thought it was an ugly emotion before.

It was not frustration.

It was gratitude.

“When will you ever stop?!” I snapped, my voice echoed between the four corners of the bathroom. “Why do you keep on exhausting yourself for someone that doesn’t even need it?!”

The atmosphere thawed in the following silence, only broken by the water hitting the tiled surface.

Ayase’s life had been a mess—a consistent cycle of people taking advantage and Ayase enduring—and giving more than they deserve.

And one realization surfaced, she shouldn’t have to endure for me.

She has enough burdens to bear and I don't want to add mine.

I slammed my fist into the bathroom wall, and my teeth grit in agony from the impact.

"What the fuck am I doing all this time?"

The bathroom fell into complete silence, and along the water streaming my face from the shower, I knew that my tears fell with it.