The Garden Of Passing Wind

Archaic Memory

"I want to be with you, always."

We were in the archive of the school library. While arranging the books on those dusty shelves - our duty as library committee members - Yukino Eru made an odd confession.

Though I was thinking of simply ignoring it, the only ones in the vicinity were her and myself. Since talking to oneself would be a little bizarre, it must have been directed at me.

It couldn't be helped - I responded to her, who was facing another bookshelf with her back to mine.

"What made you suddenly say that, out of the blue?"

She took a large breath and promptly choked on some dust, coughing a few times to clear her throat. Only then did she start to explain, her voice tinged with a sense of triumph. I turn to look at her.

"Because I mean it."

"We've been together since childhood."

"I know, but that's not what I really mean."

"Could it be that you want to step up our relationship?"

"What else could it be?"

I blushed and looked away from her direction.

She giggled without looking my way, seemingly engaged in her work. I could hear the slam and rustle of hardcover books being arranged.

"I don't know what to say about that."

"Seems like the pressure's starting to make your stomach hurt, huh."

"That's why you should find someone else."

"Then who should I find? Even those famous students in our school aren't my type."

She giggled again. As for me, since I was calmly and diligently carrying out my task, I would've liked for her to take her work seriously too.

"In conclusion, there's no one else I can depend on but Always-Together-Childhood-Friend-chan."

"So while coming up with your plans, you haven't considered the possibility that I need some time to think about it?"

"But it's not like you even know what I really mean."

"Most of the time, you talk like a poet or a storyteller with plot holes."

Naturally, she jumped at the opportunity.

I heard her breathing and her footsteps behind me, and knew that she had excitedly turned around. Staying angled to the bookshelf, I took just a momentary glance. Behind me was a sweaty girl, flashing a smile that soothes the heart.

Even though we were in the era of global warming and it was already July, someone had neglected to switch on the air-conditioner; I was sweaty too.

"Could it be possible that you might know what I'm talking about?"

Her voice echoed a little, and I, who didn't have a choice, answered her question.

"No, not a clue."

Having said everything I wanted to say, I returned to my task. She was roaring with laughter. Receiving my jokes like that had become a little speciality of hers, though this felt a little different.