Awaiting us—or rather, awaiting Kumiko—was Olympia's father. From my understanding, he is aware that Kumiko has been staying with him for the past few days. I wouldn't doubt it; Olympia wouldn't harbor someone in her home without letting her parents know.
He welcomes Kumiko in, and she bolts past me like I'm not even there. This is my first time meeting him; all I know about him is that he manages a video game store that Olympia frequents. Now that I think about it, I once played video games with an iteration of an Olympia. What did we play again? It's been so long, I've honestly forgotten all about it. To you, it may seem like only a few chapters since the event. But to me, it was an eternity ago. I'm amazed I remember that such a trivial thing happened in the first place. At least, I hope it did. Considering the time discrepancies, it's hard to say what has and hasn't happened long, long ago.
But what has and hasn't happened isn't of any importance.
I waved to him, and as I was about to turn around and go on about my day, he gestured something with his hand. I think he wants me to come in, but I'm not too sure. Olympia is usually vocal about her desires. Why does her dad need to be a man of few words?
Olympia isn't even home, so it'd just be him, Kumiko, and me—a total stranger. He doesn't even know my name. Unless Olympia's mother is there, too, then it'd be the four of us. Of course, it makes sense why Olympia's father and mother would be in their home; it's theirs, after all. Kumiko is Olympia's best friend, so they wouldn't question her stay. But me? He doesn't know my name, nor if I know Olympia. All he knows from this encounter is that I walked Kumiko to a home that isn't hers.
"Please, come in," Olympia's father calls out.
At least, I think he did. I can't be too sure. I must've misheard him. He must've said, "Please, come in't." There's no way he wants me to enter his home. Hell, he wants me to stay as far away as possible.
As I've been conversing with myself, I hadn't noticed, but my eyes are glued to the floor. I only notice because I see shoes, the shoes of Olympia's father. They're business shoes. Black. Mature.
"Kiyomi, you're welcome in my home. Please, come in," Olympia's dad says plainly. It's hard for me to believe it, but I can't deny it anymore.
I built up the courage to say what I wanted to say: "Gladly."
I enter his home. In other words, I enter the home of Olympia Ventura. Without her knowledge, might I add.
Their home is well-kept. Olympia's father offered me slippers, and as I stepped in, I didn't notice any specks of dust or dirt. There are framed photos of Olympia and her father. There's a cabinet filled with trophies, which I presume all belong to Olympia. With every step I take, I can tell that I am in the presence of the home that belongs to Olympia and her father. I can tell that this is a home. Not a house, but a home. It's big, but doesn't feel too spacious, hollow. This home is filled with familial feelings.
Kumiko seemed to have run upstairs (stairs that also contain framed pictures of the father and daughter on the wall). Olympia's father doesn't question Kumiko, as if he's fully aware that right now she needs space.
Please sit with me at the dining table, Olympia's father requests. I can't say no, of course, so I follow him there. It's not as if I want to say no, but I feel like I must accept every request of Olympia's father, the owner of this lovely home.
I take a seat, and after a brief hesitation, Olympia's father chooses the chair diagonally across from me. I hope I didn't bother him; I don't see what I could have done that did.
There's a jar of water in the middle of the table, and rather than offering me water, Olympia's father grabs a glass (that was also already on the table), fills it, and hands it to me. Again, I accept the offered water. I was thirsty, but I wasn't craving water at the moment.
I want to ask how he knows me, but he beats me to it. "Olympia has told me quite a bit about you, Kiyomi Otonashi. Is my assumption that you are Kiyomi Otonashi correct? You didn't correct me outside. Also, I don't know any male friends that Olympia has who would walk her best friend home. So, are you, Kiyomi Otonashi?"
I know the answer to Olympia's father's question; I am Kiyomi Otonashi. But I feel as if even if I weren't this person named Kiyomi Otonashi, I'd still choose to claim that I am.
"Y-You're right. I'm Kiyomi Otonashi. Blood Type: O Negative."
"Hahah, I didn't need that last bit. It's good to finally meet you. You can refer to me as Mr. Ventura."
"Okay, Mr. Ventura." Olympia's fa—I mean, Mr. Ventura—smiles as I say this.
"I heard that you helped in the conflict that my daughter and Kumiko had over the break. I don't know what that whole ordeal was, or what role you played, but thank you. The way she described it, you played a crucial role in the mending of their relationship. By the way she describes it, you've aided in making her happy. No—You've aided in making her happier. I can't express my gratitude enough for this. If you need anything from me, feel free to ask."
I don't know how to respond.
I don't think I did anything to help Olympia and Kumiko's relationship. If I recall correctly, all I did was sit on my ass and cry. But if that was enough for Olympia, then I can't feel useless. Maybe I did nothing I consider important. But if it was important to Olympia, I wouldn't take whatever it is that I did back.
Hmm?
Ahh. Mr. Ventura is staring right at me. I still haven't responded. What should I say?
Uhh…
"I've noticed there aren't any pictures of Olympia and her mother in any of the frames."
And then, before I can stop myself, I ask the question.
A question I wouldn't realize was a mistake until it was far too late.