We'd become a couple on impulse, but I had no idea how to act from here. Back when I was crazy about Brian, I'd imagined us together as lovers countless times, but imagination and actually having someone there were completely different things.

While I was wondering whether I should try leaning on his shoulder, Brian suddenly changed the subject.

"Hey, Luke. You never finished that blue bird, did you?"

"Blue bird? You mean the craft project from elementary school we were just talking about? I think I lost interest and quit around the time I finished painting it, but..."

"Do you know what happened to that bird you abandoned without finishing and never took home?"

"...I never thought about it. It was probably thrown away."

"It's being used as a sample for the bird project at the school. My younger siblings told me."

"You're kidding!"

"Mr. Goto, the art teacher, apparently praises it in front of students every year. Though he also apparently complained that the glue work on the tree trunk was "pretty rough.""

"I was an elementary schooler! That man is really harsh!"

"Anyway, that bird—even if Miriam didn't appreciate it—there were people who saw its value."

At Brian's words, I fell silent for a moment.

Not exactly the most romantic conversation for a new couple. But I had to admit, it did touch something in my heart.

"...I see. Thanks for telling me, Brian."

Finally managing to say that, I pressed my forehead against his chest a little roughly. With perfectly natural ease, long arms caught me once more.

I hadn't brought that bird home not because Mom hadn't approved of it. It was because being praised by her would have been more unbearable than anything. If I'd brought it home, Mom surely would have praised me—with a proud smile, having completely forgotten that she'd hit me.

Even if I explained these feelings in words, Brian probably wouldn't understand.

For me, knowing that someone remembered what had happened back then was a kind of salvation. That it was Brian of all people—how sad and happy that made me.

...Surely this love would end with me the only one left stuck in that same mire again.

As if to shake off that thought, I pressed my forehead harder against Brian's shoulder. Whatever was funny about that, Brian let out a small laugh and held me tighter. For some reason, that only made my anxiety worse, and my face stiffened in his arms.

Desperately, I reminded myself just how perfect this scene was—a clean space, a perfectly organized room, a meal made just for me, and Brian holding me.

As if confirming it from a distance, I finally relaxed a little.

Tentatively, I wrapped my arms around Brian's back and squeezed his torso.

Brian returned my embrace firmly, then cupped my cheeks in both hands and kissed me for a long moment.

***

That night, I couldn't fall asleep.

I'd been so sleepy during the day. It had been a day full of things to think about, and the commotion with Brian might have jolted my brain fully awake.

Alone in the wide bed, I tossed and turned again and again, producing nothing but sighs. When I was a child, sleepless nights felt like time would never pass. Now, just letting thoughts drift vaguely through my head, hours flew by while leaving me behind.

Still, it seemed a shallow sleep did come. A twilight doze, like a white night that never fully turns to darkness. In that in-between state, a fragment of a dream brushed my cheek, and I was immediately pulled back to reality. Effectively thirty minutes to an hour of sleep, I supposed. I'd need to make time for a nap tomorrow—today.

Planning this while still half-dreaming, I was caught again in the whirlpool of thoughts. All the voices I'd received over the past few days. Voices welling up from within myself. To those voices, the automatic voice installed in my head repeated its usual fixed phrases.

Eventually, Alan's voice began to play in my head.

That's a promise, the nostalgic voice repeated, and I was responding to it. Don't listen to what he says, the automatic voice repeated.

This is chaos, I thought vaguely—and then I noticed something and bolted upright in the king-size bed. I clearly hadn't gotten enough sleep, yet my mind was fully awake, the fog of thought completely cleared.

"No way... I can't remember."

Murmuring in stunned disbelief, I sat in the middle of the bed and desperately set my mind spinning. Until just yesterday I could recall it clearly, but now I could tell there was a gap in my memory, as if worms had eaten away at just that part, and my confusion deepened.

It should have been stored in my head. His frightened face, his angry face, his troubled face, his rare precious smiles—whenever I talked about him, his image had always played vividly in the corner of my mind.

And yet, for some reason, I now couldn't remember Alan's face at all.