Contacts

“Yamamoto, I want to know a friend’s contact info. Do you have it?”

Even though I’d given her an old tablet, ever since Hayashi got a brand-new smartphone, she’s been glued to it.

Sure, there’s probably a ton of setup and stuff to deal with, but what’s this weird sense of alienation I’m feeling?

As I grapple with this strange, unfamiliar emotion I’d rather not deal with, Hayashi, oblivious to my inner turmoil, calls out to me.

“That’s a dumb question, Hayashi.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah.”

I flash a smile.

“I barely know anyone!”

“You’re getting cocky about the wrong thing.”

Hayashi lightly taps my head. It doesn’t hurt. If anything, I’m grateful she played along with the banter.

“…Anyway, here’s my phone. Take it.”

“You’re awfully casual about handing over your phone. It’s a treasure trove of personal info, you know.”

“I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“You deleted everything, didn’t you?”

“Oh, come on!”

“Like I said, you’re getting cocky about the wrong thing.”

Once again, Hayashi gives my head a light tap.

“…Alright, I’ll borrow it for a bit, okay?”

Hayashi gives me a quick heads-up before she starts fiddling with my phone. I don’t pay much attention to what she’s doing, just yawning while watching TV.

“Hey, hold on.”

After a while, Hayashi lets out a weird noise. Seems she found something surprising on my phone.

“What?”

“Why do you have Akari’s contact info?”

Oh, crap. That’s the one thing on my phone I didn’t want Hayashi to know about.

Hayashi’s got this shocked look on her face. Why she’s making that expression is anyone’s guess.

Akari… that’s Kasahara Akari.

Back in high school, she was Hayashi’s best friend.

They met in our second year. For both their second and third years, they were in the same class, studying together.

Why do I know all this? Creepy, right? I’m innocent, I swear.

 …Well, it’s not like anyone’s accusing me, but Kasahara and I were also in the same class for those two years, studying together.

“Surprised?”

“Yeah, pretty surprising.”

Hayashi doesn’t elaborate on why it’s surprising, whether on purpose or not.

I get where she’s coming from, though. Kasahara, being Hayashi’s close friend, was one of the most beautiful girls in our grade, rivaling Hayashi herself

Unlike a certain Hayashi, her personality was approachable, and she might’ve even been more popular with the guys than Hayashi was, if I’m being honest.

Hayashi must be thinking: How does a nobody like me, back then, have the contact info of someone as popular as Kasahara? Of course, I’m not about to give Hayashi the reason.

“…Anyway, can I have her contact info?”

“Sure.”

“Oh, and I’ll add my contact info to your phone.”

“Oh, uh…”

I stumble over my words. Back in high school, I never imagined I’d ever get Hayashi’s contact info. Life’s full of surprises, isn’t it?

Hayashi adds her info to my phone and copies Kasahara’s contact from my phone to hers.

Then she hands my phone back.

“Thanks.”

“Anyone else interesting in there?”

“Nah. But with Akari’s contact, I think I can figure out the rest.”

“…Yeah, getting it from her is definitely more reliable than from me. …Maybe start with an apology to her?”

“An apology?”

“Knowing her, she’s probably been worried sick about you since you’ve been out of touch for so long.”

“Oh, right. That’s pretty thoughtful coming from you, Yamamoto.”

That coming from you was unnecessary. I make a sour face and look away.

She seems like the sensitive type, but maybe Hayashi’s too caught up in her own head to notice, because she doesn’t give me any suspicious looks.

I was expecting her to grill me more about my connection to Kasahara. …Not that I’m complaining if she doesn’t ask.

“Yeah, I’ll do that.”

“Cool.”

Without waiting for my reply, Hayashi turns to her phone and starts messaging Kasahara. A few minutes later, her phone starts buzzing like crazy.

“It’s a call. From Akari.”

Hayashi answers the call, and I lower the TV volume.

“Yeah, it’s been a while. Yeah. Yeah. Oh, sorry. Really, I’m so sorry…”

Hayashi chats with Kasahara for a while, clearly enjoying the conversation.

I’m a bit nervous at first, but as their classic girl-talk marathon drags on, my tension fades, and before I know it, I’m dozing off.

“Wake up, Yamamoto.”

“Ngh…”

Hayashi wakes me up some time after her call with Kasahara ends, apparently.

“Geez, falling asleep without even laying out a futon. What if you catch a cold?”

“Mom.”

“Don’t call me Mom. Sorry about the long call.”

“It’s fine. How was catching up with your old friend?”

“Yeah, she was super worried about me.”

Hayashi replies with a wry smile.

“Try not to worry her too much from now on, alright?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“…By the way, how much did you tell her?”

“Pretty much everything, I guess. The domestic violence from my ex, you hiding me…”

“…Did she say anything about me?”

“Hm? …Well, she was surprised, at least.”

“…I see.”

“Yeah.”

For a moment, silence fills the room. My sleepiness finally fading, I stand up to brush my teeth and get ready for bed.

“Going to sleep?”

“Yeah. Oh, by the way, I’ve got a late-night shift tomorrow.”

“Then you’d better get some proper sleep tonight.”

“Stop talking like I never sleep properly.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

I give Hayashi a wry smile as she laughs it off, then head to the sink.

I declared I’d burn through my 15-episode backlog over the weekend, but ended up using only 10 episodes—what a half-baked result. 

My bad. I’m planning to post two episodes a day (at 7 a.m. and 6 p.m.). 

Why “planning”? You can probably guess. That’s right, I might just impulsively blow through the entire backlog again. Stockpiles are meant to be used, after all. I’d really appreciate ratings, bookmarks, and feedback.