I Don't Like You, Too

That's Asshole-san to You (pt. 2)

"Do you like me?"

I was 17 at the time. Chika was the same age. I think. I hate to admit it, but I hadn't even bothered to find out those essential facts about her. I did know that she was a demon slayer. She seemed smart and kind and pretty. I hadn't really noticed her much until one day when she sat next to me during a break in training. She said she made too much food and asked if I wanted some. She was pretty insistent, so I accepted. She rambled on about one thing then another, and when training resumed, she said something like "Let's do this again."

And we did. I always went to that training, and I always sat on that bench during break, and before I knew it, she had added herself to my routine. She was a pleasant addition. Occasionally, she would approach me during training and ask me for help, though she didn't really seem to need it.

One day Chika asked me to walk her home. She said she needed help carrying some items it seemed she could've managed carrying on her own. When we got to her place, she invited me in for tea. I was going to decline, but she was so persistent, so zealous, like a puppy begging to play fetch. She brought out the tea, poured it. We sat and sipped, our chat as idle as always. Then she moved next to me, brought her face very close to mine.

"I like you, Tomioka-kun." Her voice was a timid whisper, her cheeks cherry red. "I like you a lot."
I didn't respond right away. I didn't know how. I liked her, but did I like her?

Before I could speak, she kissed me, and I let her. When she began to remove her clothes, then mine, I let her. When our bodies began to move together, I let them. I let this happen not because I wanted it to, but because I didn't not want it to. I think. Wasn't this normal? Wasn't this right? It was certainly effortless, if also maybe, a little empty.

What do I want? Is that a question you can ask?

I don't know exactly how long our interactions went along like that – weeks? Months? After training one day, she left without me, and I let her. She spent more of her breaks with other friends, and I let her. We still hooked up, but much less often, and I said nothing, did nothing.

Until that moment, when she asked me that question.

"Do you like me?"

She asked me already knowing the answer, maybe even better than I did. We went through the motions anyway – me telling her that I valued her friendship, but that I wasn't sure how I felt. She shed a few tears, and I held her. She said good-bye, and I let her go. And that was the end.

I let things happen. I let others make decisions. As if I couldn't put a hand on the rudder. As if I was afraid to steer. What was I afraid of?

The story of my life...so far.

+++

I lay on the floor in the middle of the training hall, my sweaty back plastered to the hardwood, my eyes struggling to focus. That blow hurt.

"I said come back when your focus is 100%," Himejima said, helping me to my feet.

"Sorry. I thought it was," I replied, knowing full well that wasn't true.

"Did you take care of that problem yet?" he asked.

"Working on it." Was he sensing the absence of truth in my answers?

"Work harder." Yeah, he was. "Things change when we do." He bowed before he left. How did that man get so wise?

I walked over to the corner of the hall where I had left my things. Work harder? How?
I didn't know how I felt about Sanemi. My emotions were a confusing brew of desire and fear. But I wanted to find out. Did I even like this man?