A Disgusting Guy: Chapter 6

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Sanctuary Afterwards

No matter how many times I told him that I had classes from the first period tomorrow, he wouldn’t listen. He was unusually persistent, and as expected, I woke up the next morning frustrated, with an aching waist. It was still early, so I closed my eyes and stayed in bed. The season was clearly passing into autumn, and the mornings were getting colder.

Only my back was warm. The arm draped over my stomach didn’t bother me anymore. When we first started sleeping together, I couldn’t stand the presence of another person in the bed, and I spent many sleepless nights. I thought I might lose my mind from insomnia, but gradually, my body adapted, and I somehow managed to treat the man behind me like just another part of the sheets. Eventually, the alarm clock went off, and I reached out to stop it. As I tried to get out of bed, the arm that had been lifeless suddenly tightened around me, pulling me back.

“No, you can’t.”

When I tried to shake off his entwining arms and get up, Miura grabbed my hair. It hurt, and I had no choice but to be pulled back into bed.

"Kazuya," he said, clinging to me affectionately.

"I’ve told you over and over not to pull my hair. You wouldn’t like it if someone did that to you, would you?"

Even though I got angry every time he grabbed my hair, he never listened. He wouldn’t stop because it was the quickest way to hold me back. Knowing that made me even more irritated.

"When did you get dressed?"

And he had the nerve to ignore what I said and continue talking.

"I took a shower while you were sleeping. Listen, don’t pull my hair again. If you do…"

He pressed his lips against my cheek.

"Cut it out," I said.

He touched my lips with the tip of his tongue, and when I turned my face away, he chased after me and kissed me.

"Stop it…"

When Miura started getting clingy like this in the morning, it always turned out bad. He wanted what he wanted, regardless of my situation. From past experience, I knew that if I seriously resisted, he’d find my reaction amusing, and it wouldn’t end. I had to handle it carefully, not provoking him and making him give up.

"I’ve got three classes this morning. If you really have to, wait until tonight."

At first, I hated myself for saying things like this, but I had no other choice. Depending on his mood, Miura sometimes gave up quite easily.

"Just once, okay?"

Today wasn’t one of those days. I glanced at the clock. If I skipped breakfast, I might just make it on time.

"...Hurry up, then."

I sighed, reluctantly agreeing.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Lately, I’d been late for the morning meetings in the staff room quite often, and Mr. Iwasa, the grade supervisor, had recently scolded me. I couldn’t tell him it was because a man was clinging to me, so I made an excuse that I had low blood pressure and couldn’t get up in the morning. He responded with, "You’re like a young woman," in a sarcastic tone.

Since I was already going to be late and my classes didn’t start until the second period, I decided it was silly to rush and chose to have breakfast before going to work. While I sat alone at the kitchen table, eating some bread, Miura, his hair still wet from the shower, sat down across from me. He was as selfish and self-centered as ever. So when he tried to talk to me, I ignored him, pretending I didn’t hear. Let him figure out why I was angry. But Miura didn’t seem to care about my attitude and just smiled smugly across the table.

"I forgot to tell you. I’m checking into the hospital today."

He said it as casually as if he were going shopping or going to the movies. I kept my head down, quietly tearing at my bread, but my ears perked up like a cat’s. I didn’t want him to know I was paying attention, so I continued to feign disinterest.

"It’s the same hospital I was in before. I went in for a routine checkup, and they said I should be admitted because I’m not managing well. With diet therapy included, it should only take two or three weeks."

"I see," I replied indifferently.

"You’ll be lonely at night, but just bear with it for a little while. I bought a smartphone, so if you miss my voice, you can call me anytime."

"Do you really think I’m going to miss you?" I asked, looking up and meeting his gaze.

Miura was smiling. I couldn’t deal with this nonsense any longer. I stood up, grabbed my bag, and left for work without even saying goodbye.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

"Did something good happen to you?" my colleague sitting next to me in the staff room asked. When I replied, "Why do you ask?" they said it was because I looked cheerful. "Even in this gloomy weather," they added. Indeed, the sky had been covered with thick gray clouds since morning. It smelled like rain, and the temperature was low. My colleague was right. Yes, something good had happened. Mr. Iwasa was off today, so I didn’t have to listen to his sarcastic remarks about being late, and when I got home after work, Miura wouldn’t be there. For the first time in a long while, I could enjoy some time alone.

"I’m looking forward to going home," I said.

"Really… I’m the opposite. My wife and I are fighting, and it feels like there’s a barrier keeping me from going home. It’s unbearable," my colleague, who was in his forties, said as his swivel chair creaked.

The chime rang, signaling the end of the ten-minute break. I gathered my teaching materials and stood up from my chair. Just thinking about tonight made me happy. I wouldn’t have to deal with Miura clinging to me. I wouldn’t have to deal with a man who was constantly eager for more. As I walked down the hallway, I suddenly realized that this kind of freedom was probably normal for most men. They didn’t have to deal with unwanted advances from the same sex or have physical relationships they didn’t want. When that thought occurred to me, I became acutely aware of the abnormality of my situation, and my mood darkened.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

There was a faculty meeting, and by the time it ended, it was past seven o’clock. On my way home, the wind was strong, and I regretted wearing only a shirt. I remembered the coat I had stored in my closet last year without even sending it to the cleaners.

When I opened the door to my apartment, the place was cold and eerily quiet. I realized that it had been a while since I’d come home to an empty, unlit apartment. Miura was almost always home when I got back. I went to the living room and turned on the heater. The warm air on my cheeks was comforting. I tossed my bag onto the sofa, loosened my tie, and made some tea. For dinner, I had some ready-made side dishes I bought at the grocery store on the way home, and my only companion was the evening news. There wasn’t anything particularly interesting on.

I lay on the living room sofa and watched videos on my tablet. Usually, Miura would be beside me, annoyingly snuggling up, or worse, using my lap as a pillow and falling asleep. Even if I showed my displeasure, he wouldn’t stop, and if I tried to get away, he would chase after me, so I’d end up letting him do as he pleased. Eventually, I stopped caring, and sometimes we’d even fall asleep together. I couldn’t stop yawning. It must have been because I hadn’t slept well since last night. Just as I was starting to doze off, my smartphone rang on the table. The caller ID showed "Public Phone," with no number displayed. I thought about ignoring it, but I couldn’t completely rule out the possibility that it was an SOS from a student, so I answered.

"Kazuya," came the voice.

Even though he wasn’t here, his voice still chased me down. Having been woken up just as I was falling asleep, I couldn’t hide my irritation.

"Where are you calling from?" I asked.

"The hospital. My phone died," he replied.

"Is there something you need?"

Without him in front of me, my tone became more forceful than usual.

"Not really…"

I hung up. I was finally enjoying my time alone, and even now, I didn’t want to hear his voice. My sleepiness was gone, and I decided to go to bed early, around eleven, and read a book. The hallway of the spacious apartment felt cold as I walked to the bedroom, and I shivered.

About a month ago, I moved into Miura's old apartment. One evening, when I returned to my apartment, it was completely empty—everything was gone. Panicking, I rushed outside to check the nameplate. That morning, before leaving for work, it had still been my place. As I wandered around the now-bare room, lost and confused, I found a note left in the kitchen.

"I’ve returned to the apartment," it read.

Furious at how he had moved so abruptly without even consulting me, I went to the apartment but didn’t speak a word to Miura. But that very night, he forcefully kissed me.

"I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it, but this place is closer to your high school and more convenient. Plus, there’s no rent to pay."

No matter how much I tried to ignore him, in the position where he was nestled between my legs, I had no choice but to give him a vague nod. Most of the large furniture I had bought for the new place was thrown away by Miura without my knowledge. But by the time I realized this, more than a week had passed since the move, and I felt too awkward to confront him about it.

The semi-double bed in my room was also Miura’s bed. Despite having a bed in his own room, Miura always slept in mine, whether we had sex or not.

I crawled into bed early, but reading a book only made me more alert, and I ended up falling asleep late.

At dawn, I woke up feeling very cold, frantically searching in the dark with my hands. I wondered if it had suddenly gotten so chilly that I needed to prepare a thicker blanket. I got up and had a simple breakfast of toast and coffee while holding the newspaper. When Miura was around, he would talk to me even while I was eating, making it impossible to focus on the paper. By 7:30, I stood up. It was about time to head to work.

A few steps outside, I realized I had forgotten to lock the door. For the past few days, Miura had been home, so I hadn’t needed to lock it myself. I hurried back, locked the door securely, and then walked quickly to make up for the lost time.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Even though midterms were over, the third-year students, who were preparing for exams, were still tense. It wasn’t uncommon to see students studying during breaks. Many students came to the staff room with reference books to ask questions, but it wasn’t particularly busy.

Despite this, when I returned home from work, I was unusually tired and dozed off on the sofa. The loud laughter from the TV woke me up. It was almost nine o'clock, and I realized I had fallen asleep without having dinner.

I rubbed my eyes hard as the landline phone started ringing. Too tired to get up, I stared at the noisy phone in a daze. The moment the answering machine picked up, the call was disconnected. There was no message, but I had a feeling it was Miura.

I finished dinner with some instant ramen and was about to take a bath when the landline rang again. This time, too, the call was cut off as soon as the answering machine picked up. In two hours, I received five similar calls, all silent. I had a feeling that if I didn’t pick up, the phone would keep ringing all night. But on the sixth call, a message was left. It was from Onodera.

"Long time no see, Miura. How have you been?"

It was a friend I had lost touch with in the fall after a falling out. Hearing his voice in real-time felt awkward.

"How’s your health? I’m really worried about that. Did you manage to meet Kazuya? You left saying you were going to see him, but you haven’t contacted me since, so I’ve been worried. If you hear this, please give me a call. Also… there’s a job for you here if you’re interested, so feel free to come back anytime. Take care, and see you later."

After the call ended, I stared blankly at the blinking recording button. I don’t know why I did it, but I deleted the message. Miura would never hear Onodera’s voice. Then the landline rang again in front of me. Reflexively, I picked up the receiver.

"Kazuya."

It was Miura, as I expected.

"Stop calling so many times. It’s annoying."

"If you’re home, you could at least answer the phone. You’re so useless."

"I was sleeping. Don’t call if it’s not important."

"But it is important."

"What is it?"

"I wanted to hear your voice."

I slammed the phone down. Ridiculous. I wasn’t going to put up with this.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

I woke up. It was still dark, and I closed my eyes, trying to go back to sleep. I kept repeating a mantra, hoping it would help, but sleep wouldn’t come.

Out of boredom, I slowly reached down between my legs. It had been a long time since I’d done it alone. Thanks to Miura’s constant demands, I hadn’t even had the chance to masturbate by myself lately. As I chased after the pleasure, I found my fingers desperately trying to mimic someone else’s touch. Even though they were my fingers, they didn’t feel like mine. When I closed my eyes, I was definitely imagining someone else doing this to me. Being slowly and deliberately teased… I didn’t want to think about who it was. The feeling of emptiness hit me along with regret. I wiped my dirty right hand with a tissue. Even though I had done this many times before, it felt unbearably hollow this time.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

I woke up in the morning, groping around the bed despite not being cold. I had already taken out a thick blanket, so I couldn’t understand why I was doing this. I realized that it wasn’t just because I was cold—I was searching for someone. Of course, I told myself. It was only natural to feel this sense of loss. I had always had someone clinging to me like an anemone, and now that they were gone, it felt strange. I tried to convince myself and found some solace in that thought. I got out of bed, sluggishly changed clothes, and sat on the living room sofa. It was a day off with no plans. I didn’t even feel like having breakfast, so I just watched the morning news half-heartedly.

Before I knew it, it was already past noon. Hungry, I opened the fridge, but there wasn’t much to eat. With no other choice, I grabbed my wallet and went outside. I debated whether to buy groceries and cook or just eat out. I ended up having a late breakfast/early lunch at a nearby coffee shop’s lunch menu because I didn’t feel like cooking. I stopped by a bookstore, where I whimsically picked up and read a bestseller paperback. I ended up buying it, and as I stepped outside, a cold wind blew against my cheek, making me close my eyes instinctively.

…The hospital where Miura was staying was nearby. A five-minute walk, and I’d see it. There was a stationery shop in that direction. Remembering I was out of report paper, I decided to head that way. I walked slowly. The hospital, where I had once frequently visited, gradually came into view. Back in April, I had walked this path many times to visit Miura when he was hospitalized due to illness. At that time, I was still engaged, and I could never have imagined that I’d end up in my current situation six months later. I bought some report paper at the stationery store just before the hospital. The hospital was right there. But just because I was this close didn’t mean I had to see Miura. I was finally enjoying some time alone, and it would be foolish to go out of my way to see him.

I stopped on my way out. There was no rush to go home, and I didn’t have to stay for hours. Maybe I should at least take a quick look. It was just a whim. I couldn’t imagine anyone else visiting that guy, and if I didn’t go at least once, the nurses and doctors might think I’m a heartless cohabitant.

I knew where the internal medicine ward was, so I asked the nurse at the station for Miura’s room number. He was in a large room at the back, with the door open. According to the nameplate outside the room, Miura’s bed was by the window. When I peeked in, some patients were sleeping, some were reading, and others were playing games on their smartphones.

Miura was asleep. Lying in bed with the sheets pulled up to his chest, he was breathing deeply. Even when I got closer, he didn’t notice. His rosy cheeks didn’t look like those of a sick person. As I watched his sleeping face, I remembered the Miura of old—the rough, unruly boy I had despised as a child. I heard the patter of footsteps running down the hallway, and Miura’s eyelids twitched slightly. He slowly opened his eyes, and when he saw who was standing at his bedside, he stared silently.

"I'm surprised."

Hearing that he was "surprised" that I had come to visit made my face twist in displeasure.

"I was just in the area. I’m leaving soon," I replied.

Miura got out of bed, and though I tried to decline, saying it was fine, he borrowed a chair from the person in the next bed.

"Well, have a seat."

I sat down on the folding chair. It had only been three days since Miura was admitted. He lay on his side in bed, facing me as I sat beside him.

"Kazuya."

His fingers reached out toward me, and I quickly pulled back. His fingers hovered uncertainly in the air, and Miura gave a wry smile. Even sitting there and looking at his face, I couldn’t think of anything to say—not even the usual “How are you feeling?” It seemed too much trouble to voice something I didn’t really mean. Then why did I come here? On the day he told me about his hospitalization, Miura hadn’t asked me to visit.

Maybe he didn’t really need a visit, and that’s why he didn’t ask. Not that I would have wanted to come even if he had asked... As I thought that, a sense of dread washed over me. Perhaps he didn’t ask because he knew I wouldn’t want to come, because he knew it would be pointless. After being rejected when he tried to touch me, Miura hadn’t made any further moves. But now, he leaned in close and whispered in my ear,

"Kiss me."

I looked around nervously. The person across from us was asleep, and though the person next to us was behind a curtain, this wasn’t the kind of place...

"Hurry up. It’s safe right now," he urged.

Even with his urging, I hesitated. But I couldn’t look away from his intense gaze.

"The nurses won’t come around this time," he added.

Feeling unsteady, I stood up. It felt like something I had to do. I bent my knees and leaned in toward Miura, who was sitting on the bed. He didn’t move an inch. Unable to keep my balance in that half-crouch, I gently placed a hand on his shoulder. It was startlingly thin and lacked any substance. As I was about to press my lips to his, Miura closed his eyes. That gesture brought me back to my senses. Even if he asked for a kiss, did I really have to comply? After all, he wasn’t forcing me.

My lips didn’t touch him. I stopped at the last moment and quietly sat back down in the chair. Miura clicked his tongue softly.

"Stop being silly and get better soon."

Miura’s teasing expression faded, replaced by a sad smile.

"Yeah, you’re right."

He didn’t try to stop me, so I quickly left the hospital. It didn’t matter if I waited; he’d come back eventually, just like before, with that same smug attitude, back to his place beside me. When I got home, I dozed off on the living room sofa, and in my dreams, I heard the landline ringing.

"Kazuya."

He left just that one-word message before the call ended. Even though he wasn’t there, I felt a strange sense of his presence, and I sank into a deep sleep.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

At eleven o’clock at night, hardly anyone was in the hallway. Half of the lights in the lounge were off. I was just about to make a call on my smartphone when I heard someone say,

"Miura-san?"

I turned around to see Nomoto, the night shift nurse, peering at me from the entrance of the lounge.

"I wondered where you’d gone since you weren’t in your room."

"Oh, sorry about that."

Nomoto, who had just started working this year, smiled with a friendly face.

"Miura-san, you often make calls in the lounge, don’t you?"

"It’s too noisy in the room."

Nomoto put her hands on her hips as she walked into the lounge.

"Are you calling your girlfriend?"

"Well… something like that, I guess," Miura replied with a wry smile.

"I thought so!" Nomoto said with a grin.

"But Miura-san, you’re really diligent, aren’t you?"

"It’s not like that…"

Miura pressed his smartphone to his forehead.

"That guy hardly ever picks up the phone, so I have to call the landline to make sure he’s home."

"Why don’t you try calling his smartphone?"

"If he answers the landline, it means he’s definitely at home."

Nomoto tilted her head.

"Are you worried about her cheating on you?"

Miura chuckled at Nomoto’s words.

"I’m more worried that he might run off while I’m not there. Once that thought crosses my mind, I can’t sleep, so I call to check."

"Running off seems a bit extreme, doesn’t it?"

Miura smiled softly.

"Maybe. Anyway, I just want to get out of here as soon as possible, so I’m counting on you."

"Well, make sure you stick to your ‘bed rest’ order. Just between you and me, the doctor said that if you keep doing well, you might be able to leave by next week. Good luck!"

After Nomoto left, Miura made another call. This was the eighth time today that he had called the house phone.

Finally, he heard the sound of the receiver being picked up, followed by an irritated voice saying, “Hello?”

"You’re home late, Kazuya."

"I had a drinking party," came the reply.

"I might be able to come home by next week."

The silence that followed made Miura’s chest ache. He was used to the pain by now.

"Good night," he said, ending the call.

It's the same thing over and over again, just like the words I once threw at Kazuya. Even now, we're going in circles. I said I didn't need his heart. I knew all too well that even if I said I wanted it, he wouldn't give me a single piece. And yet, I couldn't leave him. I can't leave him. I wanted to go home quickly. That way, I could hold him and sleep. His gentle body comforts me. I like watching Kazuya's face when he's asleep. Sometimes he smiles, as if remembering something. Whenever we slept together, I would always gently pull the sheets off him. That way, he'd unconsciously cling to me because he was cold. Even though I knew he didn't need me, it made me happy.

I no longer knew whether this feeling was obsession or love. The only thing I knew for sure was the desperate cry of my heart, just wanting to be by his side.

THE END

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