Cold Sleep - Chapter 1 - Part 6

The content warning is in the footnotes⁰.

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Despite the doctor's earlier grim warnings, the next day, he announced, still with a severe expression, that "the worst is over." Tohru felt an enormous weight lift off his shoulders, leaving him weak with relief.

When Tohru was finally allowed to visit Fujishima, he found him lying in bed, looking frail and painful to see, with an oxygen tube in his nose. Just seeing him like that hurt Tohru so much that he couldn’t bring himself to enter the room. It wasn’t until a nurse gently urged him, saying, "He's awake. Please, come closer and stay with him," that Tohru finally approached the bed. Though Fujishima was awake, he didn’t open his eyes even when Tohru stood by his side.

His face was pale, drained of all color. The orange liquid from the IV drip fell steadily, drop by drop. Tohru was afraid to touch him, but he tentatively reached out, thinking that the fingertips peeking out from beneath the sheets might be safe to touch. When he felt how cold Fujishima’s fingers were, he recoiled in shock—they felt almost like those of a dead person. Not wanting to feel that coldness, he wrapped Fujishima's hand in his own to warm it up.

Fujishima opened his eyes about an hour after Tohru had sat by his side. When a nurse came in to take his blood pressure and spoke to him, he slowly woke up.

"Do you recognize me?" Tohru asked.

Fujishima moved his eyes slightly and, when their gazes met, he whispered, "…Tohru?" Such a small thing, but hearing his name made Tohru so happy that tears suddenly poured from his eyes. In that moment, he couldn’t care less about the nurse watching or the fact that he was too old to be crying like this.

"There's no need to cry…," Fujishima murmured in a hoarse voice. "You don’t need to cry."

Then, he slipped back into sleep. After the nurse left, Tohru gently pressed his lips to the tip of one of Fujishima's fingers. Fujishima was just an ordinary man, but to Tohru, he was the only one of his kind in the world—the only Keishi Fujishima. It didn’t matter who came first, what happened first, or what brought them together. All that mattered was that Tohru loved him, deeply, and he kept repeating it in his heart as he watched the sleeping man.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

A week after Fujishima was hospitalized, Tohru stopped by ‘Port’ on his way back to the apartment to pick up some clothes for Fujishima. The shop was busy, and the owner’s wife was working alone, looking overwhelmed. When she noticed Tohru, she asked, "How is your friend doing?" When Tohru told her that Fujishima’s condition had stabilized, she smiled warmly and said, "I'm glad to hear that."

The day after Fujishima was stabbed, Tohru had told the wife, "My friend was seriously injured, and since he doesn’t have any family, I’d like to stay with him." The wife had told him, "Don’t worry about the shop; just be there for your friend." Grateful for her kindness, Tohru had taken time off work. But even as they spoke now, the shop was busy with customers, and the wife’s weary expression concerned him.

Fujishima had stabilized and was scheduled to be moved from a private room to a shared room the next day. His meals had upgraded from just broth to a thin porridge. Since the hospital had a fully staffed nursing team, there wasn’t any real need for Tohru to stay by his side all the time. Still, he had insisted on being there, unable to feel at ease otherwise.

The day after Fujishima moved to the shared room, Tohru resumed his part-time job at the bakery. Although he wanted nothing more than to be with Fujishima all day, he couldn’t continue taking time off knowing that the recovering wife might overexert herself and end up back in the hospital.

Tohru’s daily routine became one of stopping by the hospital in the morning to see Fujishima before heading to work, then returning to the hospital after his shift to stay with Fujishima until visiting hours ended. The part he hated most was when visiting hours ended at 8 PM. Returning to the empty apartment felt unbearably lonely, and he often pretended to forget what time it was just so he could stay a bit longer. More than once, Fujishima had to remind him, "Isn’t it about time to go?" and Tohru would reluctantly stand up to leave.

Sometimes, when Tohru was alone in the living room, he felt like crying. The memory of sitting in the hospital’s waiting room after Fujishima had been stabbed, wondering if he would die, haunted him. When he couldn’t bear the solitude, he would visit the convenience store, even if he didn’t need anything. If Kusuda or another familiar face was there and seemed to have some free time, he would chat with them about anything to take his mind off things. It helped, if only a little.

But as Tohru reflected on why he felt so lonely, he realized that it all stemmed from that woman. Fujishima, clearly suffering from a stab wound, had insisted, "I fell and the tip of my umbrella stabbed me," protecting the woman. Because the victim himself had insisted, what should have been a major news story ended up being brushed aside.

Tohru hadn’t told anyone the truth because he had promised Fujishima. Yet his anger towards the unknown woman grew with each passing day. And there was something else that bothered him. The woman had initially called out Tohru’s name. But it was Fujishima who ended up being stabbed. Fujishima had stepped between them, protecting Tohru. What if… What if the woman had been targeting him all along?

But if she had been targeting him, Tohru felt that Fujishima would have reported it to the police. After all, the woman hadn’t yet accomplished her goal of hurting him. It wouldn’t be surprising if she tried again. However, Fujishima refused to press charges against her. So, was it really Fujishima that she had been targeting?

The one thing Tohru was certain of was that Fujishima knew "that woman" on some level.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Tohru entered the hospital room carrying a cake for the first time in a while. As of the previous day, Fujishima had finally been able to eat regular food instead of porridge. Tohru figured that if Fujishima could handle regular meals, a slice or two of cake should be fine. Sure enough, Fujishima's face lit up the moment he saw the cake box. Tohru had returned to their apartment after work to brew fresh coffee, which he then brought to the hospital in a thermos. He remembered all too well how awful the instant coffee from the hospital vending machines had tasted during his own hospital stay. Now, with cake and coffee, the small hospital room felt almost like their living room at home.

Fujishima savored the strawberry shortcake with a blissful expression, his face practically melting like the cream. Seeing that made Tohru indescribably happy.

Tohru thought that falling in love turned people into fools—fools who didn’t even realize how deeply absorbed they were. He was delighted just to see Fujishima, eager to make him happy. Just a smile from Fujishima made Tohru feel like he was on top of the world. Like many love-stricken fools before him, Tohru found himself thinking about how to make Fujishima smile even more, how to bring him more joy. He watched Fujishima’s every expression, gesture, and word, trying to memorize them all, searching desperately for any hint of affection directed his way. It might have been obvious that Tohru was staring, as Fujishima occasionally looked uncomfortable and averted his eyes.

"I decorated that cake," Tohru said.

Fujishima paused, looking down at the cake on his plate as if seeing it for the first time.

"Really? That’s impressive."

"Well, it’s just the decoration around the strawberries," Tohru explained. "March is almost over, so it's the peak of strawberry season. The old man at the shop has been unusually enthusiastic about developing new strawberry cake recipes. That one’s a prototype. I’d love to hear your thoughts on it later."

"Sure," Fujishima replied with a small smile before picking up a strawberry and eating it first. Watching Fujishima chew slowly, Tohru felt a strange restlessness. When Fujishima licked the cream off his fingers, Tohru's lower body throbbed. He tried to shift his gaze from Fujishima's mouth to his chest, but that only made things worse. Though Fujishima didn’t look particularly thin, the way his hospital gown accentuated his pale, slender neck made him seem almost seductively delicate.

This man doesn’t know that I fantasize about him every night. He doesn’t know that in my imagination, he’s constantly being violated, with his legs spread wide, his body penetrated, gasping so hard it sounds like he’s screaming. In my fantasies, Fujishima is shy yet obedient, always inviting me with whatever pose I command. He even adopts shameful positions without hesitation. Tohru sighed. He wished he could keep his daytime and nighttime thoughts separate, but his fantasies kept intruding, and he couldn’t stop them.

"Fujishima-san, what did you do in high school?"

If he stayed quiet, his imagination would run wild. Tohru tried to sound casual as he asked.

"Are you asking about clubs?"

"Yeah."

"I didn’t join any. I was busy with cram school."

Fujishima answered while savoring his cake.

"I see… What about in middle school?"

"I was in the gardening club."

"Do you like plants?"

Fujishima gave a wry smile.

"I chose it because it didn’t require much activity. I was busy with cram school then, too."

His fork paused midair.

"I kind of regret not doing more now. Why do you ask about the past?"

"Just curious, I guess," Tohru replied.

"My stories wouldn’t be interesting," Fujishima said matter-of-factly.

Even if Fujishima thought it was uninteresting, Tohru still wanted to know more. He wanted to know everything about Fujishima because he liked him. But after being told it wouldn’t be interesting, Tohru found it harder to keep asking questions and fell silent.

After finishing the cake, Fujishima offered his thoughts, saying the sponge was delicious but the cream was a bit too sweet. But Tohru wasn’t really listening. He was hesitating to ask something else.

"Hey, can I ask you one more thing?"

"What is it?"

"Did you know that woman?"

Fujishima tilted his head slightly.

"The woman who stabbed you."

Fujishima’s expression froze instantly.

"I don’t want to talk about it."

"How did she know my name?"

No response.

"Why did you protect her, even after she hurt you?"

Fujishima’s lips remained tightly sealed, like a clam.

"You might not remember, but you almost died, you know?"

As Fujishima continued to avoid looking at him, Tohru’s frustration grew. He couldn’t understand why Fujishima refused to say anything. He wanted to expose that woman, to make her pay for the pain she had caused Fujishima. He wanted her to suffer, to endure worse than what she had inflicted. The violent thoughts piled up inside him. Even if Fujishima was willing to forgive her, Tohru couldn’t. He couldn’t forgive the woman who had tried to take Fujishima away from him.

"Why won’t you go to the police?"

"There’s no need."

"No need? Are you saying it wouldn’t have mattered if you died?"

"It would have been inevitable."

He had said something similar when he was stabbed. Fujishima had spoken like it was a last will, telling Tohru that everything he owned would be his before losing consciousness. Just remembering that moment still made Tohru’s spine tingle. He had cried like a child in the waiting room while Fujishima underwent surgery. He never wanted to feel that way again.

"What if she comes after you again? Are you just going to let yourself be stabbed again? And… Wasn’t she really after me? She called my name first, didn’t she?"

Fujishima remained frozen, staring downward without moving a muscle.

"This is between me and her. You don’t need to know."

Fujishima’s voice was cold. Tohru angrily kicked the leg of his chair, startling Fujishima into looking up. What infuriated Tohru wasn’t just that Fujishima was protecting the woman—it was the fact that he wasn’t being allowed to get involved in whatever was between them.

"So, I don’t even have the right to worry about you? I don’t get it. I don’t understand anything about what you're thinking, Fujishima-san!"

"Keep your voice down."

Being scolded only made Tohru angrier. He folded up the chair he had been sitting on and slammed it against the wall.

"Who cares? You’re the only one in this room! Fine, I’m leaving. I’m just annoying and loud to you, right?"

Tohru spat out the words and stormed out of the hospital room. His mind swirled with anger as he rushed down the stairs. Why would anyone protect someone who had done something so wrong? Those who do wrong deserve to be punished.

Tohru unlocked his mountain bike in the hospital parking lot. As he tried to pedal away, he forgot about a nearby curb and ended up taking a hard fall. His helmet, which he hadn't strapped on, rolled across the walkway. "Damn it," he muttered, kicking the bike's tire in frustration.

He sat down and hugged his knees. Anger boiled inside him—anger so intense it almost brought him to tears. As he sat there, the cold seeped into him from the ground, making him shiver. When he looked up, he saw tiny white flakes falling gently. They reminded him of the powdered sugar the old man used to finish his cakes. It was almost April, yet it wasn’t getting any warmer. It had been cold for so long. Despite trying to hold back, a tear escaped. He resented Fujishima for not understanding how worried and lonely he was. He wished he could still hate him; it would have been easier if he hadn't fallen in love. If he hadn’t, words like those wouldn’t have hurt so much.

Tohru stood up, righted his bike, and started pedaling. He purposely didn’t put on his helmet. All he could think about was Fujishima. He thought about him the entire ride, until he suddenly stopped his bike. Then, as if compelled by a force beyond his control, he turned around and sped back to the hospital. He parked his bike again, locking it up.

Tohru knew that if he went home now, he wouldn’t be able to sleep. He could use the excuse that he’d forgotten his thermos. That would be enough. He decided that he would just see Fujishima’s face one more time before heading home. With that resolve, he entered the hospital.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Entering the hospital felt awkward. He had stormed out earlier after hurling some harsh words. As he stood outside Fujishima's room, the people passing by—nurses, visitors—gave him curious looks, wondering what he was doing there.

Summoning his courage, Tohru finally stepped into the room, only to find it empty. He had come back just to see Fujishima’s face, but now that he wasn’t there, Tohru felt a small sense of relief. He assumed Fujishima had gone to the restroom and waited, but Fujishima didn’t return. Growing impatient, Tohru peeked into the restroom but found it empty. He doubted Fujishima was undergoing tests so late in the day. Wandering the hallway, he eventually ran into Fujishima’s middle-aged nurse.

“Excuse me, Fujishima isn’t in his room…” Tohru said.

The nurse tilted her head in thought before saying, “Oh, right. He might be in the lounge with a visitor.”

As far as Tohru knew, only one person besides him had visited Fujishima—a man in a suit who represented Fujishima's workplace.

“Someone I see often… Maybe it’s his girlfriend?” the nurse added casually.

Tohru froze, his entire body tensing up.

“She’s been visiting regularly?”

“About once a week or so, during the day. She’s a beautiful woman,” the nurse replied.

A sharp pain pierced Tohru’s chest. Fujishima had said he didn’t have a girlfriend but admitted to having someone he liked. Tohru had assumed that person was him. But could it be that Fujishima had someone else in his heart? Could there be someone else besides him in Fujishima’s mind?

Tohru found himself wandering aimlessly toward the lounge at the far end of the hospital ward. Since it was after dinner, the lounge was empty—except for two people sitting side by side in the middle. Tohru approached them silently. One was unmistakably Fujishima; the other was a woman with long hair that swayed every time she moved her head. Tohru didn’t dare interrupt, but curiosity got the better of him, and he crouched behind a potted plant to eavesdrop. He didn’t care if it was wrong.

“You don’t have to visit anymore,” Fujishima’s voice said. “As you can see, I’m doing much better…”

The woman said nothing.

“No matter what happens to me, I’ve never held any resentment toward you. If you wanted me to die, if you told me to die here, I would be willing to jump out of that window right now,” Fujishima continued, his tone disturbingly calm. Tohru shuddered; Fujishima didn’t sound like he was joking. The woman let out a weak sob.

“Please stop…” she pleaded.

“I fully understand the gravity of what I’ve done,” Fujishima replied.

There was no hint of sweet talk between lovers. Instead, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The woman’s body shook noticeably.

“Why are you protecting Tohru Takahisa so much? He’s just an acquaintance, isn’t he?” she asked, her voice strained.

Tohru was shocked to hear his name mentioned.

“As I’ve explained before, Tohru has lost his memory. He doesn’t remember the accident or anything that happened before. It would be cruel to make him atone for something he doesn’t even remember.”

Why was the conversation revolving around him? What did he not remember? What sins had he committed? Tohru’s mind flashed back to a conversation with his former colleague, Ishii.

“So if he forgets, if he loses his memory… does that mean that man is forgiven for crushing my brother to death with his car?”

Tohru’s fingers went numb. Accident, perpetrator, victim… He couldn’t remember anything, but what had he done?

“I don’t think it’s something that can ever be forgiven. That’s why I’m willing to take his place. I’ll do anything, so please, just leave Tohru alone,” Fujishima’s voice said, deep with resignation.

The woman laughed bitterly. “My brother is dead. It was such a big accident, yet there was no media coverage, no trial. How much money did it take to cover it all up? How much did you spend to save that man?”

“I’m sorry…” Fujishima murmured.

“And after the accident, he just disappeared without a trace… If one of his coworkers hadn’t known his new contact information, I never would have found you. Were you relieved? Did you think you could start a new life? Don’t be ridiculous. My brother is dead. He can’t say anything anymore; he died like a dog. Even after you sent us millions in compensation money, what good does it do? Give me back my brother! Or at least make that man get down on his knees in front of me!” The woman’s voice was filled with anguish, tearing at Tohru’s heart. He stared at his trembling hands, unable to stop the shaking.

“I know money can’t solve this, but it was the only way I could think to apologize. I even sent over all of Tohru’s assets, though it wasn’t much. I don’t expect forgiveness, but please… please show him mercy,” Fujishima said, bowing his head deeply.

Silence followed. The woman let out a low groan.

“So, you’re trying to intimidate me by putting yourself in my brother’s place. You want to convince me that it’s all even because you almost died too,” she accused.

“That’s not my intention…” Fujishima replied, pausing.

“As far as I could see, Tohru never lived a happy life. Watching him suffer for a sin he didn’t even remember was too much. When he lost his memory, I felt like his life had been given a fresh start. I wanted him to finally have a life free from the burdens of his past. I know I’m not in a position to wish for anything, and I know I have to atone for my own sins. But despite breaking that taboo, I just wanted him to find happiness,” Fujishima confessed, his voice thick with emotion.

The woman's sobbing echoed through the room.

“I’ll take on all of his sins,” Fujishima continued, his voice steady despite the tears, “So please, forget about Tohru Takahisa.”

“No matter how much you bear his sins, my brother isn’t coming back…” The woman cried on as Tohru crawled out of the room, overwhelmed by the flood of truths that engulfed his mind. His head spun, and as he stumbled down the hallway, he collapsed on the stairs, rolling down to the landing with a tremendous crash. For a moment, he thought he might have died, but the dull ache in his body pulled him back to reality.

His legs wobbled as he slowly descended the stairs, using the wall for support. When he finally stepped outside, the snow was still falling. As he reached for his cold mountain bike in the parking lot, something broke inside him. Tohru began to cry out loud. He didn’t know if the tears were for someone whose face he couldn’t even remember or for the frustration at himself for knowing nothing.

His breath froze in the cold air, and his fingers went numb, yet the tears didn’t stop. Sniffling, he raised his head and saw a figure leaving the hospital entrance. A black coat. Long hair. Without thinking, he followed the retreating figure. When he grabbed her arm, the woman turned around in surprise.

“I’m sorry…” Tohru fell to his knees at her feet. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me…”

Tears streamed down his face, flowing freely. An accident he didn’t remember, someone he didn’t know whom he had killed. These hands had destroyed, these hands had killed.

The woman’s feet, planted firmly on the ground like a statue, did not budge. “Look at me,” she commanded sharply. Tohru lifted his tear-streaked face, but the constant flow of tears blurred her face into an unrecognizable shape.

“Tohru Takahisa,” she slowly, deliberately spoke his name, confirming it as if to herself. Tohru nodded, trembling.

“I-I heard what you said earlier. I… I didn’t know… I didn’t know anything…”

He knew that whatever he said would sound like an excuse.

“My brother, who you killed, can never laugh or cry again,” she said, her voice cold and hard.

Tohru let out a deep sob.

“Because of your carelessness, he lost a life that could have lasted decades. My parents and I now have to live without him for the rest of our lives.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’ll do anything. If you can forgive me, I’ll do anything. I… I…”

No matter what he did, he knew he could never make up for what had happened. Even so, he pressed his forehead against the ground, hoping to convey at least a fraction of his remorse. The woman’s right foot kicked the ground angrily.

“You’re just like that man, saying you’ll do anything, that I can even kill you… Do you think my family wants anything from you?”

“Look at me,” she ordered harshly, and Tohru slowly raised his head. The woman glared at him with piercing eyes and slapped his cheek with her right hand. As she repeated the action on both cheeks, her strength waned, and her hands eventually dropped to the ground, clenched tightly.

“My brother had a criminal record for assault. As a teenager, he was uncontrollable and was taken into custody many times. But he was finally calming down. He was just about to take over the family business and become a responsible adult when the accident happened.”

Her hands were trembling.

“Do you have any idea how I felt when people whispered at his funeral, ‘He got what he deserved’?”

Tohru could only repeat, “I’m sorry.” The woman hit his head, saying, “Yes, it’s your fault,” before she eventually grew too tired to continue.

“At the time of the accident, you crossed the center line and crushed my brother along with his car. Even if you were dozing off… the fact remains that you killed him.”

The woman slowly stood up.

“Don’t forget. Don’t forget that you took a life… that you killed someone. Live with that memory.”

Her words fell heavily upon him.

“…Tell that man who defended you that I said ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘Please forgive me.’”

Her footsteps grew distant until they disappeared. Tohru remained crouched on the cold ground, unable to move for a long time.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Lights out had long since passed. As he walked by the nurse’s station, the nurses were too engrossed in their conversation to notice a visitor past visiting hours. Fujishima’s two-bed room now only had one bed occupied; the old man who had shared the room with him had been discharged the previous day. As Tohru quietly opened the door, a cream-colored curtain surrounded Fujishima’s bed. Soft light seeped through the fabric. It was only ten o’clock—too early to be asleep—so perhaps he was reading a book.

“Fujishima-san…”

Tohru called softly from outside the light. He heard the rustling of fabric.

“Takahisa-kun? What’s wrong?”

Tohru entered the curtain. Fujishima was sitting up in bed, a magazine resting on his knees.

“Visiting hours are over…”

Fujishima’s reproach made Tohru feel like crying over something so trivial.

“Sorry, I’ll leave soon. I just… wanted to apologize…”

“Apologize?”

“I said something rude earlier.”

“You came all the way here just for that? You could’ve done it tomorrow.”

There was no excuse. Coming at such a late hour was indeed for his own sake. When Tohru hung his head, Fujishima asked, “Is it raining?”

“It’s not rain… it’s snowing. Why?”

“Your hair looked wet…”

“I was outside for a while.”

Tohru sniffed loudly.

“What were you doing out there?”

Tohru didn’t answer. He sat at the foot of the bed, turning his back to Fujishima. He didn’t want him to see his face, red and swollen from crying and the slap. His jeans were dark and stained from kneeling for so long, his hands covered in mud. His coat was damp from the snow, and when he bowed his head, droplets fell from the tips of his bangs.

I stood in the snow, trying to remember what I couldn’t, thoughts of what I’d done, the sin... and the meaning behind Fujishima hiding it. What Fujishima did to protect me couldn’t have been right. Even if I didn’t know, I should’ve atoned for my sins. Even if I didn’t remember, it was still something ‘I’ did. But Fujishima tried to protect me, balancing everything within himself. Why would he go so far for me? I couldn’t believe that I was worth that much. Even now... I’m just this.

Maybe that woman has forgiven me. But then again, she might come back to remind me of what I’ve done... what I have to do now is atone. I don’t even know how, but I must give everything to make amends. And yet, I keep thinking about other things. My selfish heart keeps thinking about him. What was the true meaning behind his desperate efforts to protect someone like me? His feelings.

“Look at me,” Fujishima said, sounding like a teacher scolding a child. Tohru kept his head down as he faced Fujishima.

“I just... didn’t want to be alone.”

But even so, being close didn’t ease the heaviness in his chest. Now that he knew the truth, he had to tell Fujishima. He didn’t need to be protected anymore, surrounded by lies. He had to face it head-on, knowing that it was necessary. But if he prepared to fight the truth, if he no longer needed to be shielded by lies, what would Fujishima do? Would he discard what no longer needed protection?

Without thinking, Tohru found himself grabbing Fujishima’s wrist as he stared at the white hand resting on the sheets. Even when Fujishima trembled in fear and tried to pull away, Tohru wouldn’t let go. The hand he held eventually calmed down, and then it stopped moving altogether.

The sensation of touching made Tohru’s heart race when Fujishima gently brushed his hand over Tohru’s grasping one.

“What were you doing until you got this cold?“

Suddenly, Tohru wanted this man. He wanted this clumsy, kind person and never wanted to lose this gentle hand. Tohru knelt on the bed and leaned into Fujishima, who backed away in surprise, but there was only so far he could go on the narrow bed.

“Why are you running away?”

“I’m not running away.”

As Tohru leaned in closer, Fujishima’s face visibly tensed.

“You’re on my side, right?”

“That’s a strange way to put it. It’s not about sides; it’s wrong to divide things that way.”

Tohru kissed him, just a brief touch of their lips, and Fujishima’s eyes widened in shock. The second kiss lingered a little longer. After they parted, Fujishima’s lips trembled as if they were freezing. He covered his mouth with one hand, his eyes filled with confusion. He didn’t ask, ‘Why did you kiss me?’ Instead, he bowed his head and muttered in a trembling voice.

“Go home now.”

He repeated himself.

“Go back to the apartment.”

Tohru had been the one pitied, the one thought of as unfortunate. Yet now, Fujishima seemed pitiful to him. Unable to say what he was thinking, unable to express his feelings, even after Tohru made his affections so clear. Fujishima couldn’t say anything. That restraint felt like Fujishima’s rationality, like his moral compass.

“You do love me, right?” Tohru whispered in Fujishima’s ear, and Fujishima looked up in shock.

“You love me enough to risk your life, right? You love me so much that you kept me hidden in your apartment when I lost my memory, right?”

“I wasn’t hiding you,” Fujishima’s trembling fingers tightened around Tohru’s.

“I just wanted you to be happy.”

Tohru embraced Fujishima’s slender body, feeling his thin back and the sweet-smelling nape of his neck. Fujishima shivered violently.

“Before I lost my memory, what was I to you?”

Fujishima didn’t say, ‘a friend,’ like usual. That made Tohru think it was a lie.

“Were we lovers?”

“Of course not,” Fujishima’s voice was barely audible.

“I wish we had been. Then I wouldn’t need to justify my feelings. I could’ve believed that I loved you because those feelings were buried somewhere deep in my memory.”

Fujishima shook his head, looking down.

“You hated me. That’s why...”

“Thank goodness.”

Fujishima looked up in surprise.

“I’m glad I lost my memory. I’m glad I forgot the version of me that hated you.”

Fujishima’s face twisted with pain.

“You’re such a fool.”

“I don’t care if I am. So tell me how you really feel. Just say it to me.”

Tohru whispered, “I love you,” over and over in Fujishima’s ear. Ignoring Fujishima’s weak protests of, “Stop,” Tohru climbed onto the bed with his muddy shoes and hugged him tightly.

They kissed repeatedly. As Tohru’s emotions swelled, he pressed his face against Fujishima’s chest. His feelings of love, the desire to be saved, the loneliness—everything mingled together, overflowing from his tear ducts.

As he embraced Tohru’s trembling head, Fujishima finally spoke. The words he said were so simple that Tohru wondered why he had been so stubbornly silent until now. “I love you,” he said. That was all.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

When Tohru’s emotions finally calmed down, he began to look around. The sheets were covered in mud, with clear footprints from his sneakers. Fujishima’s pajamas were wet on the chest, stained here and there with light brown smudges where Tohru had touched him with dirty hands. The fabric of his pajama top was soaked with Tohru’s tears and snot, and when Fujishima pinched it between his fingers, he shuddered.

‘I’m sorry, for that...’

‘It’s fine. I’ll go get a change of clothes.’

From the open front of his pajamas, Fujishima’s white chest and faintly colored nipples were visible. Tohru felt a strange sensation as he looked at the place he had just been clinging to so fiercely. Without thinking, he reached out and slid his fingers inside the opening, causing Fujishima to tense up in shock.

‘Take your hand out.’

‘I just want to touch a little.’

Tohru slid both hands in and exposed Fujishima’s chest. Despite its flatness and lack of any softness, the small, casual rise of his chest caused a sharp ache in Tohru’s lower body.

He slipped his fingers under Fujishima’s armpit and gently pressed the soft protrusions with his thumbs. They were a bit firmer and hotter than he had expected.

‘S-stop it.’

‘I don’t want to...’

Tohru pressed his face against the exposed chest once more, taking one of the small lumps into his mouth. It was hard and warm, and although it shouldn’t have had any taste, it felt sweet. When he sensed Fujishima’s hips retreating, Tohru hurriedly pulled him back. He sucked hard, and Fujishima let out a breathy moan.

“No... stop... no...” Fujishima’s voice trembled, but Tohru ignored it and continued. He nibbled, rolled his tongue, and sucked. While doing so, he reached down to explore Fujishima’s lower body. He wanted to see if Fujishima really meant it when he said “no.” Even through his briefs, Fujishima was hard. Tohru was excited by the honesty of Fujishima’s body responding to pleasure. Acting on impulse, he grasped the waistband of the briefs and began to pull them down.

“Stop it!” Fujishima’s cry was accompanied by the sound of the door opening. Fujishima shoved Tohru away, hastily grabbing his pajamas and pulling his briefs back up.

“Fujishima-san?” A nurse’s voice, followed by approaching footsteps. The curtain swayed, and Fujishima frantically shouted, “Please don’t open it!” The fabric stilled unnaturally.

“I had a nightmare. My face must look awful…”

“Are you okay? You don’t feel unwell?”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry for raising my voice.”

The footsteps receded, the door closed, and a heavy silence settled between them. Tohru desperately wanted to touch Fujishima, but the way he sat on the bed, hugging his knees, told him clearly that it was “no.”

Tohru reflected on his behavior, realizing that he hadn’t chosen the right time or place. But still, he longed to get closer. He extended his right hand, but Fujishima stared at it as if it were something terrifying.

“No... stop.”

“Then just our hands, just holding hands…” Tohru added quickly, “I won’t do anything else, just let me hold your hand. Please.”

Fujishima stared at Tohru’s right hand for what felt like an eternity before finally placing his own right hand gently on top of it.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

In the early morning, the nurse scolded them. She had found Tohru asleep, slumped over Fujishima’s bed during the morning temperature check. Both Tohru and Fujishima apologized profusely to the nurse, who was visibly irritated.

Despite the reprimand, Tohru felt happy. They had held hands all night. In the middle of the night, while Tohru was asleep, Fujishima had draped a blanket over him and pulled his cold fingers under it. Tohru even knew that Fujishima had kissed his ear gently, thinking he wouldn’t notice. Tohru was certain that Fujishima’s hands would protect him at all times, just as they had done so desperately until now.

Two days after the day he had knelt and apologized to the woman, Tohru took a day off work to go to the police station. Even though Fujishima had tried to protect him, Tohru believed that he should atone for the crime he had committed. At the police station in the town where he used to live, he first asked for details about “the car accident from six months ago.” He confessed that he believed the accident had been his fault. However, the police officer’s response was vague. To make matters worse, when they asked, “How exactly were you at fault?” Tohru, having no memory of the incident, couldn’t give a clear answer. In the end, he made no progress.

The officer finally said, “What exactly are you trying to say? The police have handled this matter accordingly, I’m sure…” With nothing left to do, Tohru had no choice but to leave empty-handed. Yet, the thought of the accident lingered in his mind. Every time he heard news about a traffic accident, it struck a chord in his heart. He remembered the woman’s words, “Don’t forget.”

Tohru didn’t know what he could do, but he started saving money. Since he hadn’t faced legal judgment, it might have been for his own satisfaction. But still, in any form, he hoped to somehow convey his feelings to the other party.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The cherry blossoms had bloomed beautifully, but they soon gave way to thick leaves. The new strawberry cakes at the old man’s shop sold reasonably well, and lately, they had been getting more repeat customers. Tohru kept busy, even sneaking cakes to the nurses.

After his part-time job, Tohru raced on his bike in a T-shirt and jeans. It was 6:30 PM. Fujishima had finished his hospital dinner and was waiting for the cake Tohru would bring. After knocking on the door to Fujishima’s room and greeting his roommate, Tohru approached Fujishima.

“Sorry for the wait. Today it’s cheesecake and gateau aux fraises.”

Tohru carefully removed the cakes from the box and placed them on plates, and Fujishima watched with childlike focus. His expression was so endearing that Tohru wanted to hug him. He desperately resisted the urge to touch even the tip of Fujishima’s hair, clenching his hands to keep control. If he teased him even playfully, Fujishima would immediately turn red and clam up like a shell, making any further conversation impossible.

Tohru handed Fujishima the plate with the cake and a fork. Fujishima murmured, “Thank you.” Normally, he would start eating right away, but today, he just held the plate in his hands.

“…My discharge date has been decided.”

The lips Tohru had been staring at, wanting to kiss, finally spoke.

“They said I can go home next week.”

“Really? Then I’ll buy you a whole cake to celebrate!”

Fujishima muttered that he wouldn’t be able to eat that much and smiled awkwardly.

Footnotes

0. Content warning: NSFW.

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