Smiling at the Moon: Volume 2 - Chapter 3 - part 5

The content warning is in the footnotes⁰.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

The terminal station was small, and the station building was old. It was past ten o'clock, and the wind outside was bitterly cold, piercing Yamada's cheeks.

He had 1,300 yen left. He couldn't afford a hotel, so he would have to sleep outside. But that was fine with him. Staying anywhere would leave traces. He didn't think his pursuers would come this far out, but in this line of work, you never knew what associates might be lurking. It was better to be cautious.

He felt exhausted, likely from staying on high alert for so long. He needed to rest somewhere. In the city, there were plenty of people sleeping under eaves, in train stations, or in underground passages on cardboard. But in this sparsely populated residential area, he saw no sign of homeless people.

As he walked, hoping to find a park, he noticed the road sloped downward and the smell of the sea grew stronger. The surroundings opened up, and he found himself by the ocean. Even though it was cold, he went down to the beach. He turned up the collar of his coat, and the wind swirled around his ears.

He remembered a few years ago when he, Michihiko, and Ryota had set off fireworks in the summer. It had been fun. But now it was winter, and he was alone. Something surged within him, and he began to cry uncontrollably. But there was no one to ask him what was wrong or to comfort him.

His fingers became so numb from the cold that he feared he might freeze to death, so he finally left the beach. Needing to relieve himself, he looked for a place to go and found an old auto repair shop with seven or eight cars parked haphazardly in front. After using the shadows for privacy, he looked around. Behind the shop were over a dozen old cars that looked too broken down to be useful even for parts.

One of them was a box van with broken windows. The driver's door was also open. He climbed into the van and curled up on the backseat sofa. It wasn't bad, but the wind blew in through the gaps, making it cold. Staying still made the cold unbearable, so he got out and found a thin metal sheet. Using some nearby scrap to hold it in place, he covered the broken window. This blocked the wind and made it much more bearable.

He wrapped his coat tightly around himself and curled up like a cat. The seat cushion was dusty and smelled of dirt. It reminded him of a time when his father had yelled at him and he had slept on the concrete porch, which had the same earthy smell.

Back then, he thought he suffered because he was a child, unable to do anything. But now, as an adult, he was in the same situation—curled up in a dusty car like a homeless person.

As a child, he had thought his father was the worst person. His father drank, gambled, fought, and hit women and children without mercy. Yet his father was not a yakuza, nor had he ever killed anyone.

A dry laugh escaped Yamada's nose. In hindsight, he had become worse than his father ever was.

What now? He could manage for tonight, but what about tomorrow? And the day after? If he drifted to another place and lived under a false name, he might survive. But then he sprang up, suddenly remembering Michihiko was left under Soichi's care. His escape might have put Michihiko in a dangerous position. If Michihiko got tortured because of him... The thought made Yamada’s hair stand on end.

...He had to go back. He couldn’t leave Michihiko, who was inexperienced, timid, and would cry out in pain at even a firm grip. The image of Michihiko being tortured made Yamada’s heart ache.

As Yamada prepared to leave the van, his hand froze on the door handle. If he returned to the gang, he would face torture. He had fled to avoid that. He remembered Saotome, the drug addict who defected to the Maruyama group. Soichi had ordered Saotome’s finger to be cut off and fed to the fish right before Yamada’s eyes. Yamada knew he would be killed. Yet, even if he ended up as fish food, he couldn’t abandon Michihiko.

Run away together? Yamada laughed. Michihiko was still a student with his own life ahead of him. He couldn’t ask him to drop out of university and throw away everything because of his mistake.

But Soichi wouldn’t be satisfied without some form of retribution. So, he decided to die before they could torture him to death. If he died, they might spare Michihiko.

How to die... Yamada finally remembered the gun at his side. He pulled it out, feeling its warmth from being close to his body.

He disengaged the safety. He had seen it on a foreign TV show. If you put it in your mouth and pulled the trigger, you’d die. The pain and suffering would end in an instant.

He put the warm barrel into his mouth. It felt like performing oral sex. He thought, "Michihiko's is probably this small too," and laughed. His teeth clinked against the barrel. When he pulled it out, even in the darkness, he could see saliva trailing from the muzzle.

His laughter faded, leaving only emptiness. Standing at the brink of death, he reflected on his life. Raised by an abusive father, becoming a yakuza, messing up, and now about to die in an abandoned car.

Is this really the end? Is this my end? Is this how it ends? No, no, no. He now understood Kimijima’s fear when he cried for help and wet himself. Dying was terrifying. He wanted to live, no matter how worthless he was.

But he had to die. If he didn’t, things wouldn’t be settled. If he died, everything would be resolved. Surely...

Come on, pull the trigger. If you’re scared here, you’re not a man. Die with dignity. It’s a fitting death for a yakuza. Die, die, die...

No matter how much he urged himself, his finger wouldn’t move. Yamada laughed. He couldn’t pull the trigger because he didn’t want to die. He hated pain, hated being pathetic, hated everything.

Suddenly, he wanted to hear Michihiko’s voice. Before dying, he wanted to hear it. Yamada took out his cell phone with his left hand. He turned it on and was shocked to see numerous voicemails.

The first one was from an acquaintance in the Motohashi gang.

"You stole a gun and ran off, didn’t you? But you can’t keep running forever. Come out. I’ll smooth things over for you."

"Yamada, I’ll kill you!"

"Come back. If you listen, you’ll only lose a finger or two."

"I’ll find you wherever you are and blow your head off."

The threats came from various members of the Motohashi gang. Soichi had them hunting him down. No doubt about it.

He deleted the call logs without looking at them. This was his “family,” the family he had thought he belonged to.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

The next morning, I took the train to Machida Station. I bought a canned coffee and a meat bun and ate them in the convenience store’s eat-in corner. After that, my balance dropped below a thousand yen.

Last night, I spent the night in an abandoned car. It was cold, and I thought I might catch a cold, but surprisingly, I was fine.

I told Michihiko everything honestly. When I said I wanted to leave Soichi, I was told to kill Kimijima. In the end, I couldn’t do it. Instead, I let Kimijima escape, and now I’m being chased by the gang.

Michihiko listened silently. Then, he calmly said, "Shinji, I think you should stay away from Tokyo for a while."

"I don't have any money. The gang is probably watching my house, so I can't get anything from there."

"Then should I lend you some money?"

Borrowing from student Michihiko felt uncool, but the reality was that I had no money.

"You're not trying to charge me high interest, are you?"

"I would never do that."

I couldn't keep going without a bit of teasing.

"I think it's better to avoid going back to your hometown too."

To hide, it’s best to be in a crowded place. In that case, a larger regional city would be good. Nagoya is connected to the Rano group because the chairman is from there. On the other hand, Osaka is dominated by the Fifth Generation Touzen group, which is hostile to the Rano group.

I decided to go to Osaka for the time being. Michihiko said he would get a Shinkansen ticket, but Yamada opted for a long-distance bus. I don’t know how long I’ll have to hide in Osaka. Until I can make money, I’ll have to borrow from Michihiko. I can’t borrow a lot from a student, and I don’t want to be in debt. Besides, what I’m thinking is probably what the gang is thinking too, and I’m scared they might be watching the major Shinkansen stations.

“I think I’ll go to Osaka too.”

Michihiko muttered on the other end of the phone.

“It’s winter break anyway, and I’m worried about leaving you alone.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“Shinji, you’re worse than a kid.”

Before I could answer angrily, Michihiko started talking again.

“I’m checking online now, and there’s a long-distance bus to Osaka that stops at Machida Bus Center in the morning. It’s not the city center, so the gang might not check there. I’ll buy the ticket, so let’s meet at the bus stop.”

There were still thirty minutes until the meeting time. The bus stop was outside, so it was cold. I knew there was no need to rush, but I couldn’t calm down. Then my cell phone rang. I thought it was the gang again, but it was Michihiko.

“What’s up? Are you already at the station?”

“Shinji, I think I’m being followed.”

Yamada swallowed hard.

“I thought I was fine when I left home. But since I got on the train, a man in a blue tracksuit and a man with a punch perm have been following me. I bought the ticket, but if they find out I’m meeting you, it’ll be bad.”

My heart pounded twice as fast as usual.

“Where are you now?”

“A convenience store near the station.”

“Is it Lawson?”

“No, it’s Sunkus.”

“Oh, I can see it from here. If I’m being followed, it’s better not to act together. I’ll give you the ticket first.”

“How can I get close to you if you’re being followed?”

“I’ll go to Lawson and put the ticket in a book there. When I leave the store and say it’s okay, you can get it.”

The call cut off. Yamada muttered “Damn it” and held his head. Even if Michihiko insisted it was “unrelated,” it was inevitable he would be marked. Contacting Michihiko and trying to meet him was dangerous.

About five minutes later, the phone rang again.

“I left the convenience store. Both of them are following me, so I think it’s okay. There’s a ticket in the first volume of the manga ‘Versus’ at Lawson. When the bus comes, get on first. If I can’t shake them off, I won’t get on.”

“… Got it. But are you okay?”

Michihiko laughed.

“I don’t think they’ll do anything to me. I’m saying I don’t know anything about Shinji. If something happens to me, Mori will run to the police. If I can’t shake them off, I’ll go shopping in Yokohama. See you.”

Michihiko, who had his pants pulled down by bullies, seemed oddly reliable. Yamada immediately headed for Lawson. On the shelf were the manga books of ‘Versus’ as Michihiko said. When he opened the first volume, there was a ticket to Osaka and 30,000 yen¹ sandwiched in the middle. The moment he saw it, he felt a pang of guilt and uneasiness.

He didn’t know how Michihiko planned to shake off his pursuers, but he had to wait in an inconspicuous place, so he’s not discovered. Yamada entered an alley just outside the convenience store. There was a big trash can, so he couldn’t be seen from the street. Yamada leaned against the wall of the building away from the trash can and crouched down, waiting for the time to come.

Five minutes before the bus arrived, Yamada headed to the long-distance bus stop. A middle-aged man and a young woman were already waiting.

The long-distance bus approached a little late. Michihiko hadn’t arrived yet. Maybe he couldn’t shake off the pursuers. Yamada decided to get on first. The seat was at the very back. Because it was a weekday and an odd time, only a quarter of the seats were occupied.

After the three of them boarded, the driver got off the driver’s seat. After announcing, “Is there anyone else for Osaka?” he returned to the driver’s seat. Just as he was about to close the door, it opened again.

“Sorry for being late.”

Michihiko rushed onto the bus, out of breath. The driver confirmed his ticket and immediately departed. Michihiko came straight to the back and sat next to Yamada. Despite the cold outside, sweat was on his forehead. Michihiko peeked out the window, then quickly closed the curtain and pressed his forehead.

“They’re watching us. I couldn’t shake them off.”

Yamada swallowed hard.

“I don’t think they’ve noticed you, Shinji. But they find my behavior suspicious. They might follow us.”

Michihiko spoke, breathless and in fragments.

“Hey, this is bad.”

“But they followed me by train, so they don’t have a car. I don’t think they’ll take a taxi just because I’m acting suspicious.”

“But they know where we’re going.”

Michihiko clasped his hands in front of his face.

“Right. I shouldn’t have gotten on, but I let my guard down when they disappeared. If they take the Shinkansen, they’ll get there faster and wait for us at the Osaka stop. What should we do…?”

Michihiko, who had been thinking alone with his head down, suddenly raised his face.

“That’s it! These buses take breaks at parking areas. We can get off there.”

“But what will we do then? It’s the highway. We can’t transfer to a train.”

“We’ll hitchhike. If that doesn’t work, we can call a taxi, even if it’s expensive.”

With an escape route decided, Michihiko finally calmed down. He took a deep breath, then stood up and approached the front of the bus.

"The next stop is Ashigara Service Area for a fifteen-minute break," said Michihiko as he returned to his seat, pulling a small laptop from his backpack at his feet and began typing.

"We'll get off the highway at the interchange closest to the service area and head to a JR station. They might stake out the Shinkansen stations, but I doubt they'll cover the local lines. Nagoya would be the closest big city, but you said that's not an option. How about Shizuoka? I know the city a bit since I went there for a kart race with Mori."

"Anywhere but Osaka or Nagoya is fine by me," Yamada replied.

Michihiko shut down the laptop, put it back in his backpack, and looked intently at Yamada.

"... What?" Yamada asked.

Michihiko reached out and touched Yamada's bangs. "Are you okay?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Were you okay alone last night?"

Yamada brushed Michihiko's hand away, causing Michihiko to narrow his eyes sadly, and Yamada bowed his head. He had cried and called Michihiko the previous day. Michihiko was trying to help him escape. Yamada felt awkward receiving kindness after asking for help.

Yamada pulled his lips tight and slouched in his seat.

"Are you sleepy?"

"Yeah, kinda."

Even though he wasn't tired, Yamada answered that way. Michihiko kept staring, but Yamada ignored him. He felt Michihiko pat his head again. This time, Yamada tolerated it without pushing him away. The act itself wasn't unpleasant, only his conflicting feelings were.

Michihiko's hand moved to Yamada's chin and lifted it roughly. Before Yamada realized it, Michihiko kissed him. Yamada wanted to push him away, thinking it was inappropriate in such a place, but Michihiko's weight made it difficult. No one could see them in the back seat, so Yamada gave up resisting.

It was rare for Michihiko, usually waiting like a patient dog, to initiate a kiss. He kissed Yamada hungrily, more aggressively than usual. Michihiko hungrily sucked Yamada's lips, and he smelled raw and manly like never before. He seemed satisfied after kissing Yamada so hard that his tongue went numb. When he finally pulled away, Michihiko murmured, "Shinji, you smell dusty."

The bus departed Machida Bus Center and wouldn’t stop until the service area. The intermittent shaking, warmth, and the comfort of not being alone soon put Yamada to sleep.

Yamada was shaken awake by Michihiko, almost falling off his seat.

“… What is it?”

Annoyed at being woken, Yamada snapped. Michihiko leaned over from the next seat and whispered, "I think we're being followed."

Yamada’s grogginess vanished instantly.

"A Yokohama-numbered taxi has been following us. I thought it was just me, but I saw a blue tracksuit in the back seat earlier."

If that were true, they'd be caught when they got off the bus at the service area. If the gang was informed, backup might be on the way.

"I’ll get off alone at the Ashigara Service Area, the first rest stop. They don’t know you’re on the bus yet..."

"No, that’s too risky. Even if you act as a decoy, if they board the bus, it's over."

Michihiko didn’t argue, knowing he couldn’t guarantee they wouldn’t board.

"Were there two men following you?"

"Yes..."

With two men, they might be able to fight and escape. Yamada discreetly touched his side, considering using his weapon as a last resort.

"I’ll be the decoy," Michihiko said, clenching his fists.

"When we reach the service area, I’ll run to the restroom. They’ll follow me. While they're distracted, you should get off the bus and hide on the opposite side. I’ll stay in the restroom until the bus is about to leave, then come back. They'll keep following the bus after that. You can hitchhike or call a taxi to escape."

"What about you?"

"I'll continue to Osaka on the bus."

"You might get abducted if they think you’re suspicious."

"I’ll insist it's just a solo winter trip."

Michihiko took out his bankbook and cash card from his daypack. "The PIN is your birthday, Shinji."

He pushed them into Yamada's hands.

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"You’ll need money to escape and hide."

"It’s your money. I can’t take it."

Yamada tried to push it back, but Michihiko insisted.

"I’m giving it to someone I love. Money is for times like this."

As they argued, the bus veered left towards the service area. Michihiko peeked out the back.

"The taxi is still following. As planned, I’ll get off first. Be careful of the man in the blue tracksuit and the one with the punch perm."

"But..."

Before Yamada could protest, the bus parked, and the driver announced a ten-minute stop. Michihiko quickly exited, heading towards the restroom. Yamada watched through the front window as the two men followed Michihiko at a fast pace. The realization of being pursued made Yamada sweat nervously.

Following Michihiko's instructions, Yamada got off the bus, ran in the opposite direction of the restroom, and dashed into the store. The man in the blue tracksuit and the man with the punch perm weren’t looking his way.

Feeling that wandering outside would draw more attention, Yamada sat in a corner of the self-service restaurant, keeping his head down. During the short ten-minute break, Michihiko was holed up in the restroom, so they wouldn't come to the restaurant. Still, Yamada alternated between watching the entrance and checking his phone.

Michihiko had said he would play dumb if caught in Osaka. But even if he claimed to know nothing, if the pursuers thought he was hiding something, they’d likely abduct and beat him. Imagining Michihiko being punched and kicked made Yamada’s shiver. If Michihiko said he wouldn’t talk, he wouldn’t. His stubbornness would make them hurt him more. If he died, they’d just bury him in the mountains with a shrug. Yamada didn’t want to die, but he couldn’t bear the thought of Michihiko dying even more. He didn’t want Michihiko to be killed.

Thinking about it made him restless. Unable to sit still, he stood up. There were less than five minutes until the departure time.

Yamada went outside and approached the parking lot for large vehicles. Without much time to choose, he went to the nearest truck, opened the passenger-side door, and found it unlocked.

"...What the hell?"

The man inside, who had been napping, sat up. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, with dyed brown hair and unusually thin eyebrows—he might have been a former delinquent.

"Give me a ride," Yamada demanded.

"Go find someone else," the man replied, gesturing with his chin. Ignoring him, Yamada got into the passenger seat.

"Hey, you can’t just get in here!"

Yamada pulled out a gun from his side and held it low. The man, seeing the black gleam of the gun, screamed and jumped in the driver’s seat.

"Don’t move or make a sound!"

The man’s hand on the door handle began to shake violently.

"Don't try to run. If you do, I'll put a bullet in your gut. Just do as I say, and I won’t kill you. You don’t want to die young, do you?"

The man's cheeks twitched with tension.

"Start the truck."

The man, trembling, started the engine and turned the steering wheel.

"Park next to the restroom."

"That’s a no-parking zone..."

"Just do as I say!"

At Yamada's shout, the man parked the truck in front of the restroom. He leaned against the wheel, looking at Yamada.

"Tell me the number."

"Huh?"

"The truck’s number!"

"5632."

Yamada switched the gun to his left hand, keeping it aimed at the man, and called Michihiko.

"...What?"

"Get in the truck with the number 5632 parked in front of the restroom."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just do it! Or I'll kill you."

He hung up. Less than a minute later, Michihiko emerged from the restroom. About ten meters behind him, the men in the blue tracksuit and the punch perm were following.

Michihiko walked towards the truck as if crossing the road. Yamada opened the passenger door, and Michihiko jumped in. Simultaneously, Yamada ordered the driver, "Drive!"

"Wha—"

"Hurry up! Get out of the service area and head west!"

Yamada pressed the gun to the driver’s side, who screamed and hit the gas. The truck sped out of the parking lot onto the highway.

Looking back, Yamada saw the taxi wasn't following, but it seemed only a matter of time before they caught up.

"Why are you doing something so reckless?"

Michihiko finally got his bearings and sat up properly.

"This isn’t reckless! We’re escaping!"

Yamada shouted at Michihiko and turned to the driver.

"Speed up. If you see a Yokohama-numbered taxi behind us, let me know."

The driver nodded repeatedly.

"If we escape like this, it's like inviting them to catch us. A big truck like this will stand out!" Michihiko argued.

"Hah!" Yamada snorted. "If we had a smaller car, they'd ram us and force us off the road."

"The driver is just a taxi driver!"

As they were arguing, the driver spoke up.

"Um... there's a taxi coming up really fast behind us..."

Yamada checked the rearview mirror and saw the Yokohama-numbered taxi.

"Ugh, damn it!"

Michihiko scratched his head in frustration.

"Up until now, they've just been suspicious. But now, they’re definitely after us. If more pursuers join, we won’t be able to escape on the highway. There’s only one taxi now, so we might lose them on local roads."

Yamada ordered the driver, "Get off the highway at the next interchange."

"Shinji, you’re so stupid!"

Michihiko’s outburst made Yamada turn around sharply.

"Yeah, I’m an idiot!"

"That’s not the point! Why are you taking me with you when you could escape alone without being noticed? Are you that afraid of being alone?"

Before he could think, Yamada acted. With his right hand, he slapped Michihiko, causing him to crash against the passenger door.

"Get out!" Yamada growled.

"Get out of this truck right now!"

As Yamada barked at Michihiko, the driver interjected, "Uh, I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"If you get out of the passenger seat now, you'll definitely get hit by the following car," the driver pointed out.

Hearing the obvious only made Yamada angrier.

"I know that!"

When Yamada smacked the driver on the shoulder, the truck swerved wildly, causing Yamada to roll over and crash into Michihiko, who pushed him away angrily.

"Don’t hit the driver. It's dangerous. This isn’t a race, and this swerving..."

As he spoke, Michihiko suddenly exclaimed, "Oh, right! Mori's grandmother has a house in Shizuoka."

"So what?" Yamada asked roughly, still annoyed.

"Last summer, when we went to see the kart race, Mori and I stayed there. It's empty now, but if we explain our situation, we might be able to use it. It'd be cheaper than a hotel, and we can save money."

Without waiting for Yamada’s response, Michihiko took out his phone and called Mori.

"Mori said we can use it as much as we want," Michihiko reported.

"Fine," Yamada grunted, turning away. The truck exited the highway at the first interchange as instructed, with the taxi sticking close behind.

"While heading west, please zigzag through the streets. It would be better if you could go through the city," Michihiko requested.

The driver grimaced. "That’s not possible with a truck against a taxi. We can't maneuver like that."

"But if we stay on the rural roads, we’ll never shake them off," Michihiko countered, silencing the driver. The truck swerved right and left skillfully, but the taxi remained glued to their tail, only separated by three cars.

"Um..." the driver spoke hesitantly.

"What?" Yamada snapped.

"How far are we going? I need to refuel soon."

Panicked, Yamada checked the fuel gauge, which was almost empty, well past the warning line.

"Why didn’t you say so earlier?"

When Yamada waved the gun, the driver raised his hands in fear.

"Don’t let go of the wheel!"

The driver, nearly in tears, gripped the wheel tightly.

"I couldn’t find the right moment..."

"Head back into the city," Michihiko commanded sharply. "It’s easier to escape there than on these rural roads."

The truck turned right, heading back into the urban area. The countryside gradually gave way to gray buildings.

"Shinji, look there," Michihiko pointed to a traffic signal about twenty meters ahead. "We might get caught there. Let’s get off the truck. It’s better to move on our own terms. When the truck stops, you run left, and I’ll go right. The pursuers will likely split up. Once you shake them off, call me."

Yamada understood the logic but wasn’t ready.

"But you..."

Before he could finish, the truck stopped at the intersection. Michihiko jumped off first, followed by Yamada. Michihiko crossed the street to the right, while Yamada ran to the left. The taxi, three cars back, couldn’t follow immediately, giving them a thirty-meter head start.

Terrified, Yamada ran without looking back, his breath loud in his ears. The gray sky loomed, but he didn’t feel the cold as he sprinted.

As he ran, the cityscape gave way to fields and mountains. It was too open, but there was no turning back. He spotted a narrow side road and took it, preferring the cover of the hills.

Thinking he might be safe, Yamada glanced back and was shocked to see the man in the blue tracksuit fifty meters behind, chasing him. Sweat poured down Yamada’s body in a cold wave.

Ahead, he saw a torii gate and stone steps leading up a hill, likely to a shrine. He decided to take cover behind it and ran up the steps, his breath heavy and his heart pounding in his ears.

His legs, fatigued from the long run, almost gave out, and he stumbled, barely catching himself. He bent forward, forcing himself up the steps.

The pursuer's footsteps grew louder. Though he planned to hide in the mountains, Yamada realized he might get caught due to his slow pace. With only a few steps left, he prayed for help.

A scream echoed as Yamada looked back. The man in the blue tracksuit had slipped and was tumbling down the steps. Seeing an opportunity, Yamada ran to the back of the shrine.

To his surprise, he found a steep concrete-paved road. Cars could reach the shrine without using the steps. Realizing he couldn't manage mountain climbing in his condition, he decided to walk and run as far away as possible.

Yamada stumbled down the slope on shaky legs. He walked slowly along a narrow farm road, constantly looking back but seeing no sign of the man in the blue tracksuit. It seemed he had finally shaken off his pursuer.

Feeling safe, he was suddenly overcome with fatigue. He wanted to rest. Though the wind was cold against his cheeks, he was drenched in sweat from running at full speed. His throat was parched.

Ahead, he saw an old house. People in the countryside were usually friendly; they might give him some water. He entered the yard of the house hopefully. The shutters were firmly closed, and the garden was overgrown with weeds. Circling the house, he saw the back wall was peeling, and the roof had caved in. It was abandoned.

Yamada sat down by the crumbling wall. Even seated, his breathing was still ragged. Once his breathing calmed and he raised his head, he noticed a stone structure jutting out from the backyard. It looked like a well.

The thought of water filled his mind with intense thirst. He staggered over to the well. It was covered with an iron plate, but beside it was a bucket and a small pulley. He removed the iron plate and leaned over the edge to peer inside, but his hand slipped.

"Uh, uwaaah!"

His body leaned forward. The railing he grabbed for balance broke, and Yamada fell into the dark well.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

Yamada woke up to the sound of his cell phone buzzing. Even after waking, it was so dark he couldn’t tell where he was. He pulled out the buzzing phone from his pocket, its light flickering like a star.

"...Hello?"

"Shinji!" Michihiko’s voice pierced his eardrum. "Where are you?"

"...I don’t know."

"What do you mean you don’t know? Did they catch you?"

Yamada’s mind was in a fog. He remembered running. Running, then... the shrine steps. No, it wasn’t him who fell, it was the man in the blue tracksuit. After that, he ran and walked. His memories gradually returned. But where was he now? As he moved his stiff body, a sharp pain shot through his left leg.

"Ugh, uwaaahhhh!" he screamed. His left leg hurt whether he moved it or not. The pain was intense.

"Shinji, what’s wrong?"

"My leg... it hurts, Michihiko... help me, help me."

"I can’t help if I don’t know where you are. Tell me, and I’ll come get you. I promise I’ll come get you."

Tears welled up as he listened to Michihiko's words. He didn’t know why he was crying. He tried to stifle his sobs, but Michihiko must have heard them.

"It’s okay. Don’t cry. Just tell me where you are."

His kind words warmed his heart.

"My leg hurts."

"If you suspect it's broken, try not to move too much. Look around carefully and describe your surroundings to me."

Using his phone's light, Yamada looked around. He saw stone walls, a narrow space, and scattered rubble.

"A well," he said.

"What?"

"I fell into a dry well."

Something soft brushed his cheek. Snowflakes fluttered down. Cold, he realized. It was snowing, even at the bottom of the well. He hated the snow and the cold.

A vision of his father, buried in snow and dead, flashed through his mind. It was a terrible way to die. But if he stayed here, he’d die the same way, buried in snow and frozen.

"Michihiko, I don’t want to die here. It’s so cold... I’m going to die..."

His whimpering was punctuated by loud sneezes.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

Michihiko found him after midnight. After pulling Yamada out of the well, they saw his left leg was swollen and painful to touch.

At first, Yamada walked on his right leg with Michihiko's support, but soon his knee hurt too much. Michihiko ended up carrying him. They avoided taking a taxi, fearing it would draw attention.

"I managed to shake off the guy chasing me in about ten minutes. Thinking ahead, I changed all my clothes and bought new ones. While I was at the mall with a big tote bag, wearing a hat and glasses, the guy chasing me passed right by without recognizing me. But now there are three of them. They’re gathering in this town to look for us."

A chill ran down Yamada’s spine. How many gang members were being mobilized just because a low-ranking thug had escaped?

"The station and bus stops were full of suspicious-looking men, and there was a guy asking every taxi driver at the station. We should leave town as soon as possible, but with your injured leg, it’s best to stay at Mori’s grandma’s house tonight. It’s about five kilometers² from here."

Michihiko’s steps were surprisingly steady despite his slight frame. His back was broad, and he smelled of sweat, not sweet, but reassuring.

"You’re stronger than you look," Yamada muttered, clinging to Michihiko’s wide back.

"Ever since I started working part-time as a mover, I've built some muscle. I can lift heavy things now," Michihiko said.

Right, he's a guy. My initial impression of him was as a crybaby, thin, and girly, which had stuck in my mind. Even though we'd had sex countless times, I hadn't noticed how sturdy his back was, probably because I was always the one pushing him down.

Though I felt bad making him carry a heavy load like a person, it was comforting to have someone with me in times like these. It made me feel less alone. The snow continued to fall, piling up on both of our heads, but I wasn't scared anymore. Unlike my father, I wasn’t alone.

The familiar scent and the gentle swaying made him drowsy despite the risk of being found by the gang. Yamada dozed off on Michihiko's warm back.

Michihiko took several breaks along the way. Each time, Yamada woke up but quickly drifted off again. They reached Mori's grandmother's house around 5 in the morning, with the surroundings still as dark as night.

Mori's grandmother's house was surrounded by a wall as tall as Yamada. The front gate was locked, so they walked about forty meters³ to the back gate. The property was spacious. They could enter by untying the string connecting the gate and the gatepost.

Even in the dark, it was clear that the single-story house was falling apart. The unlocked back gate indicated the neglect of the property.

"The plan was to demolish the house and clear the land, but Mori wanted to keep it as a place to stay during kart races, so they left it as is."

The main house was clearly dilapidated, but the storehouse on the north side was intact. A thirty-square-meter⁴ building, a detached house, was added later and was still in livable condition.

They entered the detached house. It was even darker inside than outside. Unable to see his footing, Michihiko almost stumbled while carrying Yamada.

The entrance and kitchen area were floored, while the rooms were about fifty centimeters higher with tatami mats. Despite some pain in his left leg, Yamada managed to crawl on all fours.

"...The lights aren't working. The breaker might be off, but I don't know where it is," Michihiko said, frustrated.

"You can’t see anything in the dark. It’ll be dawn soon. Look for it then," Yamada suggested.

He lay on his back on the musty-smelling tatami. Michihiko rustled around restlessly before dropping something beside Yamada's head—a futon.

"You can sleep, Shinji."

Yamada took off his coat and crawled into the moldy futon. But Michihiko didn't join him.

"...Come here too."

"I thought I’d keep watch outside for a bit."

"Those guys aren’t coming all the way to this rundown house. Come here and sleep."

Michihiko hesitated but eventually took off his sweater and got into the futon. As they got closer, they naturally hugged and kissed.

The warmth of their embrace made the gang's pursuers and the snow feel distant. Eventually, Yamada forgot about the pain in his leg and fell into a deep sleep.

Footnotes

0. Content warning: suicide mention.

1. Around $185 USD.

2. Around 3.10 miles.

3. Around 131 feet.

4. Around 323 square feet.

Previous TOC Next