Adachi to Shimamura - Volume SS1 - Chapter 26

How It Felt at the Start

IT ALL STARTED with a dream. The night I dreamed of kissing Shimamura, a new me was born. That was no exaggeration, either; with each passing day, I discovered that every single aspect of myself had been overwritten.

I’d developed mild jealous tendencies. An inclination toward brooding. A habit of introspection. Love and obsession. Pre-date insomnia. 

I should really work on that last one. But that’s not relevant.

I’d had that dream exactly once, and never again after­ward—at least, as far as I remembered. Lately, I didn’t really dream of much at all; perhaps my heart was too tuckered out from my daily emotional turmoil to have the energy for that at night. Every now and then, though, I thought back to that dream and wondered what it would be like.

Well…“like” in what way? I asked myself. Although it was my own question, I didn’t have an answer and soon found myself flustered. 

The thought of pressing my lips to hers made my skull pitch sideways, as if I were dodging an attack or trying to flee. If I’d been in my room, I’d probably have buried my face in my pillow and screamed. 

Forcing my head upright once more, I stared at the far wall and zoned out. Shimamura and I were girlfriends, and…

“Heh heh…”

The thought made me chuckle to myself like a weirdo; I quickly cleared my throat to hide that. Focus! Steeling my heart, I laid the facts out before myself. She and I were in a relationship, and we loved each other, and we were girlfriends, so…wasn’t a kiss within the realm of possibility? Did I dare hope for my dream to come true? 

I was already beyond happy with how things stood, blessed with everything I could ever want, yet somehow I still yearned for more. Human greed truly knew no limits. I was ambivalent about almost everything else, but when it came to Shimamura, my thirst was unquenchable. It spawned countless new beginnings, and I had to run at full speed just to keep up.

How was I supposed to ask her, anyway? “Is it cool if I kiss you?” “May I please kiss you?” My cheeks burned in protest. 

When did most couples arrive at that conversation? 

Probably whenever they both want to kiss, I reflected, pressing the tips of my index fingers together. But does Shimamura ever want to? 

I vaguely remembered having a conversation with her along those lines—but only vaguely, since intense embarrassment had blocked much of it out. That was true of a lot of my memories of Shimamura. Lately, I’d started to wonder whether that might explain why I spent every day on edge.

I wish I weren’t such a mess. 

At one point, I’d had my act together. But now, in the era of Shimamura, that was more or less ancient history. Still, if I kept running around like a chicken with its head cut off, I might actually lose my head, and it wouldn’t be a pretty sight. I needed to be mindful and put one foot in front of the other, step by step.

As for Shimamura, she was right in front of me. 

We were at her house—no real plans, just hanging out. While part of me was delighted that that was becoming more routine, another part was slowly starting to panic. 

In contrast to my excessive energy, Shimamura raised a hand to stifle a yawn, then wiped the resulting tear from the corner of her eye. Every second of it was adorable. After she was done, I made my move, pressing my hands to the table and leaning forward.

“Sh…Shimamura-san,” I stammered.

“Yeees? What is it?” She looked up at me, her chin resting on her elbow.

“What are you smirking for…?” I asked.

“Oh, I’m hoping you’re about to say something wei—witty again.” 

Something witty? Something witty… Nope, I’ve got nothing. “C-could I…”

“Hmm?”

“Could I…touch your lips?” 

As I realized the room was spinning, I felt sweat trickle down from my scalp. Just holding myself together was taking everything I had. 

“Hmmm…my lips? Sure, I guess.”

As much as I appreciated Shimamura’s general willingness to grant my requests, the thought of rejection made me sick to my stomach. To be clear, it wasn’t her that concerned me, but rather my own ineptitude. I had to admit, I was really weird at times. 

“Top or bottom?”

“Uh…both?” Was it normal to kiss one lip at a time? 

Shimamura scooted around the table toward me, and although this had been my idea to begin with, I bit back a scream of terror. There was no smile on her face as she leaned in, probably because I’d fallen short of her expected “wittiness.” I shrank back, afraid that one wrong move on my part would send my lips crashing into hers. 

“Well, here I am. Go for it.”

“Okay…” 

I pressed a trembling index finger against her lips, as if to silence her. She looked down at it in confusion. Granted, I wasn’t really sure what I was doing, but considering that I had next to no experience touching her lips, wasn’t this a good way of…you know…working up to a kiss? 

Ironically, the first thing I felt was my own lips, suddenly burning hot. As the veins in my neck throbbed to life, I sat perfectly still, letting my finger absorb the sensation. Meanwhile, Shimamura still seemed puzzled. Yeah…truth be told, I wasn’t sure this was actually helping me. Maybe my action had been too cryptic to make sense.

I held out as long as possible, until my heart threatened to explode. At that point, I had to pull away—but the feel of her soft, plump lips lingered on my finger.

If we kissed, would I feel it again somewhere new?

I stared down at my finger for a moment. Then, without thinking, I ran it over my own lips.

“Huh?”

“Ack!”

The blood drained from my face as I realized what I’d just done—right in front of her. As she fixed me with a wide-eyed stare, I felt that blood rush back to my cheeks. I was beginning to understand why she’d once compared me to a traffic light.

“Aha.” Surprisingly, Shimamura broke eye contact first this time. “Are you perhaps hinting at something, Ada-cheechee?” 

“Wh… No, no, no!” I shook my head vigorously, waving my hands in protest. 

Her eyes followed the motions for a moment, and then she raised a hand in turn. “I’m going to ask you a follow-up question, and I want you to be completely honest.”

“Okay…” For some reason, this felt eerily familiar. 

“Do you want to kiss me?” Though her question was straightforward, her gaze was timid. 

Why did she always put me on the spot like this? Well…probably because she knew it was the only way to actually have this kind of conversation. In that sense, she was trying to help me. And since she’d asked me a direct question, I wanted to give her a direct answer. I’d surely matured enough for that, right? Enough to trust our connection?

“Do I…? I don’t know. But when I think about it, I get flustered and…want to cry.”

As for why it brought on the waterworks, I honestly wasn’t sure. Maybe because locking lips with Shimamura (albeit in a dream) was my origin story. It had triggered my rebirth… In other words, her mouth had shaped me. 

Wow. That sounds like something out of a mythology textbook. Wait, am I being corny again?

“Hmmm… I see.”

Her response sounded kind of judgmental to me, even if she hadn’t meant it like that, and I shrank into myself reflexively. If I were a turtle, I’d probably have spent the rest of the night wailing inside my shell.

While I was busy picturing myself as an animal, though…

“Okay, then…um…have at it.”

“Huh…?”

Her words had slammed straight into my temple; I could practically feel the pointy parts pierce my skull. When I reached up and touched the wound, though, it turned out to be an illusion. I somehow wasn’t dead after all.

“‘Have at it’?” I repeated like an idiot.

“I’m saying I don’t mind,” she explained patiently—but by the time it clicked in my brain, my throat had already closed up. “It sounds…potentially interesting, you know? Learning what it means to kiss someone. How it feels.”

Though her tone was lighthearted, her cheeks told a different story. For once, she was blushing. The sight struck me with the intense realization of what was about to happen, and my heart began to pound so hard, my skull felt like it might burst open. The rest of my body seemed dull and sluggish, like a zombie’s, but I nonetheless heaved myself forward, leaning closer to her. 

Are you sure? I asked silently.

“I’m sure,” I thought I heard her answer—but my delusional brain was probably just conjuring whatever I wanted to hear. As I shook my overloaded head, I somehow managed to bite my tongue, although I hadn’t spoken a word aloud. My focus quickly moved past the sharp pain and taste of copper, though. There were more pressing matters.

My hands latched onto Shimamura’s shoulders as if I was about to shake her senseless. She flinched hard, blinking back at me with concern. Then a reassuring smile slowly spread across her flushed face. The instant I saw that, something deep within me threatened to spill out. Stomach acid, maybe. 

Trembling, I swallowed my excess saliva—and it really did taste like stomach acid. Uh-oh. That wasn’t part of the experience I wanted to share with Shimamura right now. 

I could only imagine how pathetic I must’ve looked at that moment. Alas, there was no room for romance while I was fighting for my life. I felt like some part of my brain was spinning like a fan blade, jumbling my inner ear canals until I couldn’t even see straight. The closer Shimamura leaned in, the more flummoxed I got. At this rate, I was worried I might drop dead altogether.

Fine. But before I go…!

Panic traveled down my legs, tilting me farther than I had intended—and without a single moment spent easing in, I bridged the gap.

Hard.

I’d miscalculated my momentum, and we crashed together, flattening each other’s noses, our cheekbones trading greetings. The end result was less a kiss and more a direct attack that hurt my entire face. 

Horror set in. Oh god, I screwed up.

When I felt her lashes brush my skin—literally right in front of my eyes—I nearly passed out. 

With every other part of my face smushed against hers, it was frankly hard to tell whether my lips were even in the right spot. How was I supposed to retain my sanity while breathing her breaths? Focusing on my mouth, I turned my head…and inadvertently scraped something hard. Someone screamed—probably me—and I recoiled.

Was…was that her teeth? Terror rose in my throat as I realized I’d trespassed inside her mouth, rendering any joy null and void. Judging from my intensely dry eyes, I’d forgotten to blink for a while.

Shimamura sat there with her eyes closed, rubbing her nose and chin. I wanted to apologize, to ask if she was okay, but I was too bewildered to speak. My mind was a muddled mess; I felt my brain creak as I gasped for breath. 

Had that even counted as kissing?

If so, I was shockingly bad at it. It’d been more of a headbutt than anything. I could already tell that the memory of this moment would make me yearn for death. 

But self-loathing would have to wait. Right now, I was still alive.

Shimamura’s fingers wandered to her lips. Her eyes twinkled. “So…that’s what your blood tastes like.” 

My blood—from when I’d bitten my tongue earlier. My brain was too overwhelmed to process the implication of what she’d said. Really, it was a miracle she hadn’t spat it out.

“I didn’t know it’d taste different from mine.”

Throat twitching slightly, she licked her lips as if to ponder the flavor—and my heart swelled hard, as if someone had punched me in the solar plexus. Every breath was now sheer agony. This moment—her gesture, the sight of her—had hammered a dark, pointy stake into my skull…and what flowed from the wound was too inky to be blood. 

“Well, I guess we’ve made it to first base now!” Shima­mura laughed weakly, raising a halfhearted peace sign. 

Absently, through hazy vision addled by the ringing in my ears, I watched my arm move on autopilot, tracing a shaky arc through the air to land on her shoulder. The moment I touched her, I realized my palm was burning hot—as though blood was pumping through my veins at breakneck speed, pooling in my face and fingertips. 

I…

“I love you.”

I love you!

Those three words were all that remained in my mouth; the lingering feeling of Shimamura’s lips had stolen all the rest. On some level, I understood that I’d just achieved my greatest dream, but that reality had yet to sink in fully. 

Shimamura’s face gradually flushed redder and redder as she smiled at me. Then something got into my eyes, and my vision blurred as if I were turning to goo. 

After I’d melted away into nothingness, another me would take shape. Like before, Shimamura would kill me, then create me anew. But it was my blood—not my tears—that resonated with my fate.