For Some Reason The Girl Who's Too Popular Only Drinks with Me - Volume 1 Chapter 6.4

When I finally reached the living room of Hamasaki Mai’s apartment, I plopped down onto the sofa with a thud.

Somehow, we made it in time. Hamasaki Mai’s dignity was safely preserved.

Well, the very fact that she had to be carried on my back because she was about to pee might be humiliating for her in and of itself.

“Ah, my knees are giving out.”

I looked at my trembling knees. Carrying a full-grown woman in a full sprint was definitely not something to do after having had quite a bit to drink.

Yes, I too had consumed a substantial amount of alcohol. While I wasn’t staggering around, I was probably going to suffer from muscle soreness and a hangover tomorrow.

The door swung open, and Hamasaki Mai emerged from the washroom. With her makeup minimally removed, she walked over in a daze and sat down next to me.

“I’m sleepy, gonna sleep now.”

As soon as she muttered those words, her head landed on my thigh. Now, I couldn’t move.

“Sleeping is fine, but you should go to bed. Come on, get up.”

I picked up Hamasaki Mai’s head and shoulders, and with a reluctant “eh~,” she somehow managed to sit up.

I stood up and crouched down in front of her. As she gazed at me with her eyes half-melted, she wrapped her arms around my neck.

“I’m going to sleep, carry me.”

Her voice was so coaxing it sent a wave of heat down my back. Gathering the small remnants of my rationality before they evaporated, I hesitantly slid my arms around her waifishly soft and surprisingly slender waist, suppressing any base urges, and lifted her up. As she stood, Hamasaki Mai’s face appeared in front of me, and she let out a soft “mmh” as she hugged me tightly.

Hang in there, my self-control. Don’t let the alcohol get the best of you. I considered taking a deep breath to calm myself down but immediately stopped myself. I was afraid of what might happen if I breathed too deeply in such close proximity.

Struggling to breathe and enduring the suffocation, I carried Hamasaki Mai to her bedroom. I maneuvered around the sofa, slid open the door, and there was the bed with a light pink duvet laid out near the window.

It was my third time entering her bedroom. Unlike the living room, this space was filled with traces of Hamasaki Mai’s life — clothes, knick-knacks, cosmetics. On top of a compact, slightly damaged dresser, there were photo frames displaying family pictures, photos with her sister Hamasaki Misaki, with university friends, and with members of the “Sake Friends Circle” — Mikami-senpai, Sugino-senpai, Hamasaki Mai, and me, in the background.

It felt like I was being poisoned with sweetness. Perhaps staying here would lead me to a satisfied death.

“Here we are, arrived at the bed.”

I wasn’t yet accustomed to this room. I needed to make a quick exit. I called out to Hamasaki Mai and gently placed her on the bed.

“I’m gonna sleep now~”

“That’s good.”

I carefully covered her with the duvet. All that was left was to turn off the light and leave.

However, Hamasaki Mai didn’t immediately fall asleep. Instead, she looked up at me with a face that seemed to have something to say.

“Asato.”

Hamasaki Mai called my name. A small, pale hand reached out, touching my hand.

“What is it?”

“What will you do from here? Can you still go home?”

“I wonder. I think the last train should still be okay.”

“Hmm…”

Hamasaki Mai gazed up at me in a daze. Just as I was about to say I’d be leaving, she tightly grasped my hand.

“Hey, don’t let go of my hand.”

“That’s… fine, I guess. But how long should I hold it?”

“Ehh~ forever.”

“Forever is impossible. I won’t be able to go home.”

It seemed my response didn’t please her. Hamasaki Mai pouted and turned from lying on her back to her side.

She glared at me, gripping my hand even tighter.

“Do you want to go home? Even though you’ve finally come to your girlfriend’s house?”

“For tonight, yes. You seem drunk, too.”

“Mmm, you don’t like me?”

“I do like you. Really.”

“How much?”

“Enough to drive me crazy.”

“That much?”

“It’s maddening.”

“It’s okay, go mad.”

Hamasaki Mai smiled happily. Ah, this is the worst. She’s quite drunk.

“I’ll sleep now.”

As I struggled to contain my embarrassment, Hamasaki Mai muttered softly.

“Until you sleep? Uh, ah, you mean I should hold your hand until you fall asleep?”

“Yeah, don’t let go until then. Absolutely, okay? Absolutely…”

While speaking, Hamasaki Mai’s eyelids began to droop. For the moment, I just sat down and watched her face as she started to breathe softly in sleep.

I’m being led around, I thought, glancing at Hamasaki Mai’s hand. The right hand that was tightly gripping mine seemed unlikely to let go easily.

Looking at her, now asleep with her makeup removed, still beautiful, I was reminded of a short film I’d seen before.

There was a talk between the screenwriter and the director in the bonus footage, discussing the work and unrelated topics.

In it, the screenwriter commented on their romance with the author of the original novel, which was in the news at the time.

“Our relationship was exactly like this movie. She was a fruit knife, and I was a scarred apple,” the screenwriter had said.

It was a symbiotic, coexistent, and complicit relationship.

The fruit knife was afraid of hurting the beloved apple. It couldn’t even touch it.

The scarred apple knew it was undesirable, yet it still hoped to be saved by someone.

Which one between Asato Kirishima and Hamasaki Mai was the fruit knife, and which was the scarred apple?