The Girl Who Loves Me

Heat erupted from under my skin. For a moment, it felt like someone had pressed an iron there and forgotten to remove it. The left side of my stomach was on fire. The flame flickered, brightening my dark room. 

I tried to stay asleep. If I didn’t open my eyes, maybe it would calm down and stop being painful. Maybe it would think I didn't care.

The heat pulsed. It wanted attention. My hand moved on its own. Fingers touched the heat and flinched back.

'Fine.'

I pushed myself up and lifted the shirt. The mark was there. Not glowing like it sometimes does when she is near. Not burning like when it demands attention. It was just there, faint, uneven, and ugly.

I pressed it with my fingers again.

Nothing.

But the room felt warmer.

I flopped back onto my pillow and stared at the ceiling. I wanted to sleep some more, but sleep had already abandoned me. 

'Maybe I should ditch sleep and just get ready for school. I'd be early today.'

The clock ticked.

I turned to my side. The clock was in front of me, hanging on the wall. The needle pushed forward. Then again. Then again. I lost track of all the ticking. I blinked. I didn’t even realise it. Suddenly I was running late.

The bathroom water was freezing. I stepped in anyway. The cold made me shudder; my breath constantly hitched. But if I skipped, others might notice the scent of burning.

The water streamed down my face.

If I showered fast, I’d have time to iron my uniform.
If I didn’t iron it, I’d look careless.
If I ironed it too long, I’d be late.

But I don’t like iron…

I stared at the two sets of uniforms hanging on the door. Wrinkled or ironed. Wrinkled or ironed.

…You’d look stupid in the creased one. Her voice echoed in my head.

“I know.” I grabbed the ironed one. “See? I make good decisions.”

When I stepped into the lounge, she was already there. 

Standing by the window. The white curtain drifted around her. Her short purple hair floated. In the pale morning light, it felt so soft, so neat, and so unreal. She was immersed in whatever was outside.

Ai-chan didn’t look at me.

“Morning,” I said.

She turned slowly, like she’d been expecting me the whole time. smiling faintly, she added. Sora, I thought you died.

I waited for her to add the joke, but there was none. "Okay?"

She tilted her head, eyes drifting past me again. There’s something outside.

I glanced out of the window. Trees. Road. A stray cat digging through trash. All the usual things. I walked past her into the kitchen. “Why can’t you hold a normal conversation?”

She didn’t answer, only followed me.

Breakfast was simple. My grandmother usually did most of the cooking, and that was the only reason I tolerated her. Dying of hunger isn't on my to-do list. As for her husband, he should have married his newsletter.

Ai-chan sat across from me, elbows on the table, watching. She didn’t touch the bowl; she only looked around. She pointed at the folded newspaper on the couch. She remained quiet, but I knew what she wanted. I quickly shot up and hid it in the vase.

I settled back down. 

After breakfast, I collected all the dishes and carried them to the kitchen. I turned toward the sink when I almost walked into her.

She stood beside me, watching as I did the dishes. I glanced at her. “He will be mad about the newspaper.”

She smiled like I’d said something funny and walked out. 

The clock ticked one last time as we left together. On the way to school, I checked over my shoulder to be sure if she was there. Of course she was. I knew she was.

Ai-chan reached forward, brushing her fingers against my palm. 

“Cold,” I whimpered. Her hands were cold to the point of burning. Or were they hot to the point of freezing?

I almost closed my hand around hers—

“Morning!” 

Kaito dropped an arm over my shoulder and pulled me into him. I stiffened. His hand pressed my shoulder. I tried to move out of his grip, but he wouldn't let go. He leaned onto me like he always does. “Morning!”

I stumbled under the familiar weight. My hand could have reached Ai-chan, but her hand wasn't there.

'Ai-chan?'

I glanced back.

Ai-chan had stopped walking. She was watching us with her usual blank expression.

I shrugged Kaito off lightly. “You’re heavy.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

He laughed but still didn’t let go of me.

Ai-chan started walking again, passing us. The kids in front of us didn’t move out of her way. They didn’t seem to notice her. She was small. They never notice small things.

But I was glad they didn’t notice her; she was too cute to share.

Classes were loud in the way they always are. Chairs scraping. Pages turning. Someone whispering during a test as if they’re conducting an illegal operation.

At lunch, a girl from class cornered me with relationship gossip complicated enough to require a whiteboard diagram. “So that girl is dating her sister’s boyfriend’s friend’s cousin—”

“Mm.”

I nodded at appropriate intervals.

'Ai-chan is on the rooftop.' The thought slipped into my head as if it had always been there.

The girl paused to take a bite of her sandwich.

“Excuse me,” I said, standing. I heard Kaito call my name; I didn’t know where he was seated, so I ignored him.

The rooftop door creaked open. Wind rushed in first. Ai-chan was sitting near the edge, knees drawn up, staring at the sky.

“You left,” I said and sat beside her. The floor was warm under me. It was the sun, shining endlessly on the roof. For a while, neither of us spoke.

“You don't mind me hanging out with others?" I decided to break the unsettling silence.

Her eyes flicked to mine. If you believe, then I won’t.

My throat tightened. I kept staring at her. She studied me, then held out her hand. I hesitated before taking it. Her fingers were small.

'Warm.'

For a second, I thought I heard something sharp, like glass cracking under pressure. I squeezed tighter. The sound stopped. She pulled her hand away first.

Happy? she asked.

“…Yeah.”

I stood up. "I guess, see you at the bridge again."

After school, we walked to the bridge. We mostly did. It was at the edge of town, pretty much half-forgotten by the locals. The railings rusted, and the paint peeled in strips.

The water below was bright in the afternoon light. It looked pretty, but then I noticed a plastic bottle floating at its surface.

Ai-chan stepped ahead of me, fingers grazing the railing. She stopped where one of the bars was bent. She looked back at me.

“I can’t do it,” she said quietly. “Not if you hesitate.”

My stomach burned. “I’m not hesitating.”

The wind rustled the leaves nearby. For a moment, the world felt thin, and maybe for a moment I actually hesitated. My breathing went shallow. I was about to say something, but a truck drove past us. The wind hit my face. Her skirt stayed still.

“You remember what will happen,” she said. "Right?"

“Y-you...jump,” I whispered. The burn flared.

She smiled and climbed the railing. She looked at me one last time, and then she was gone.

“I remember,” I said, over and over as I moved closer to the railing. I looked down; the water was still. “I remember. I remember.”

"Hey, kid!" Someone pulled my arm and forced me to look at him. "Were you planning to jump?"

"Huh?"

I was holding the railing, and my foot rested on the lower bar. It looked bad. I released myself from his grip. "N-no... you are mistaken. I-I was only looking at the water." 

He stared at me, then shifted his gaze to the railing. "Fine. Go home."

I quickly picked up my bag, which I had thrown off at some point, and bowed to him. Then I ran away from him and the bridge. I didn't want to cause problems for my grandparents; they would scold me.

I stopped at a distance. I panted as I wiped the sweat off my face. The heat began to cool. My knees gave out and buckled. I fell, my knees hitting the ground.

When I looked up, she was sitting in front of me. Completely dry and scratchless.

You see? Ai-chan said softly. The only way to stay sane… is to remember I’m dead.

The wind passed through her hair. Or maybe it didn’t. She tilted her head and smiled. I reached for her hand but stopped before bursting into laughter.