Metanoia

2

"They say after death, the brain lives for another 7 minutes... in order to replay our best memories."

Yoichi first told you that when you both were 15.

You remember exactly how it all was, that day. The cool, slowly decreasing temperatures of November chilling both you and Yoichi to the bones. You both sat under the kotatsu in Isagi's living room, the heat from the ingenious table warming both of you in that unforgiving cold.

Yoichi sat huddled at your side, his phone in his hands and his cheek pressed against the table.

You remember the smell of freshly peeled tangerines still lingering in the air. The zest of the citrus fruit had slowly bled its color under Yoichi's nails, staining them with a lighter shade of orange.

Yoichi always offered to peel those tangerines for you whenever you both sat huddled in the cold, his nimble digits working quickly to peel the cover off the fruit, just for you.

The boy had a small smile painting his face, an unknown emotion shining in his eyes when he turned to speak to you.

If you could go back in time, you would have seen how you proceeded to ignore what the boy had said and instead, focused more on your school work. You had been too busy finishing your essay to catch sight of the look in his eyes.

But his words ended up making you stop dead in your tracks.

"You'd be my seven minutes, [Name]!"

He confessed so carelessly, as if he hadn't just admitted that all the best memories he had in his life were associated with you.

It should have made your heart swell, it should have made you proud that you had such a positive impact on your best friend's life, even though you had only been mean jabs and angry scowls in your youth.

But instead, his sweet word ripped straight your heart, hurting you a lot more than you would have expected.

Teenage you was dumber than you would give her credit for. She was too busy pretending like Yoichi was just a dumb guy in her life who just couldn't understand the complex feelings of [Last Name][Name].

God, you would punch your younger self in the face, if you could.

Because your dumber self was the one could never figure out her own feelings.

All you remembered was your younger self staring back at him and frowning deeply, as if he had said something that had greatly mocked her.

"I'm sure your parents would cry if they heard that I'd be your seven minutes."

At first, Yoichi stared at you. He stared and stared, his eyes blown in surprise because he hadn't expected you to actually reply to him.

But then, his eyes filled with mirth the moment his mind registered that he had caught your attention. Then, amusement filled his lungs and overflowed out him in the form of peals of laughter bubbling in his throat.

Isagi always looked pretty when he laughed.

You knew that, yet you still averted your gaze. As if a mere look at his joyful expression would scorch you. Maybe it would. You weren't used to the warmth that Yoichi so carelessly wrapped you in.

Instead, you waited until the boy had let out his joy before stating out loudly:

"Just for the record, you wouldn't be my seven minutes..."

You knew that was a lie. Even emotionally constipated-teenage-you knew that was a lie.

Of course it was.