Secret: Chapter 1 - Part 6

The content warning is in the footnotes⁰.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

I saw a ghost.

On the day of the party, Keita went to Enomoto’s restaurant with Sugiura in the afternoon. He helped wash vegetables and with some simple preparations. The kitchen was small, so once cooking started, Keita stayed out of the way, bringing a chair inside the counter and watching Sugiura from behind as he skillfully made salads and plated marinades.

At 6:00 PM, Enomoto and two of his employees arrived at the restaurant. By that time, most of the appetizers were ready, and only the pasta needed to be cooked.

The party started at 7:00 PM. As soon as the restaurant opened, a few regulars arrived, and within an hour, the place was lively. Even after the party started, Sugiura was busy, cooking pasta, boiling noodles, and using the oven at another shop in the same building to bake pizza.

Keita couldn’t help Sugiura, who was busy, and couldn’t even stay close to him. With the employees arriving, the space inside the counter became even tighter, so Keita moved out to the floor and settled at the far right end of the counter table, sipping beer while waiting for Sugiura to finish cooking.

Sitting alone, Keita was frequently approached. When he said he was waiting for someone, most of the men would leave politely. However, one man, wearing a red T-shirt and a nose piercing, who looked about the same age, was annoyingly persistent. Keita finally said, “I feel like I’m getting drunk badly. I need to step outside,” and left the restaurant. He then slipped into a side alley, intending to return to the kitchen where Sugiura was, through the back entrance. Just as he reached the back street, he heard lively voices from across the street. Recognizing a few familiar faces, Keita quickly realized they were members of Yanagisawa’s theater troupe, about ten of them in total. He slipped into the shadows before they noticed him. It must have been a post-performance gathering. Keita lowered his head, hoping they would pass quickly when he heard a familiar voice. No, it couldn’t be… he thought.

Peeking out cautiously from the alley, he saw something unbelievable at the back of the group—a tall, thin figure following behind at a distance.

Keita bolted into the kitchen through the back door. Sugiura wasn’t there. When Keita peeked into the counter area, he saw Sugiura talking to Enomoto while sipping wine. Ignoring the fact that Sugiura was mid-conversation, Keita grabbed Sugiura’s right hand and dragged him forcefully into the kitchen.

“What’s wrong?” Sugiura asked, confused. Keita clung to his chest, which smelled faintly of olive oil.

“Why are you shaking?” Sugiura gently stroked his shoulder.

“When Takanori and I were talking about how you weren’t around, I was surprised to see you come out from there. Where were you?”

“I… I saw a ghost.”

Keita’s voice trembled.

“A ghost?”

“He’s dead. He should be dead, but I saw him. He was walking across the street, so…”

Sugiura lifted Keita’s chin. Even in his shaken state, Keita could faintly smell the wine from Sugiura’s breath as he kissed him.

“They say there are three people in the world who look exactly like you. I’ve seen a movie like that before,” Sugiura said soothingly, stroking Keita’s head.

“I’m not joking. I really saw him. He should be dead.”

Sugiura tilted his head.

“Was he a friend of yours?”

Keita hesitated for a moment.

“I’ve never seen a ghost before,” Sugiura said, “but if it were someone I loved, I wouldn’t mind seeing them even as a ghost.”

The man he killed must have come back out of hatred. He must have returned, full of resentment. Keita’s body shook, and Sugiura asked, “Are you that scared?”

When Sugiura made a move to leave the kitchen, Keita panicked and grabbed the hem of his café apron. Sugiura smiled and held Keita’s right hand tightly. Still holding hands, they reentered the counter area. Sugiura asked Enomoto for a bottle of wine and two glasses, and they took them into the cramped kitchen.

“Do you want to drink a little?”

Keita thought that being drunk might lessen his fear, so he quickly gulped down the wine Sugiura poured for him. He drank three glasses in quick succession, but still couldn’t get drunk.

Sitting awkwardly on the kitchen’s tiled floor, Sugiura pulled Keita onto his lap. Just like when they were alone in their room, Keita clung to him. Though Sugiura gently stroked his back and head, Keita really wanted him to hold him so tightly it would take his breath away. Their kisses felt inevitable. As the alcohol slowly took effect, Keita’s overwhelming fear began to fade, and his cheeks grew warm. The shame of being seen by others also started to disappear.

Sugiura’s fingers felt unusually hot as they touched him, and then he leaned in to whisper in Keita’s ear, “I want to have sex.”

“Not here,” Keita protested.

“I want to do it here.”

Sugiura’s eyes glistened as he stubbornly insisted.

“It’s cramped, and if someone comes, they’ll see us.”

“You just have to move a little.”

Without waiting for a reply, Sugiura unzipped Keita’s jeans. Keita quickly grabbed his hands, trying to stop him.

“No way!”

Sugiura’s hands paused. He gave Keita a noisy kiss, then took off his café apron and wrapped it around Keita’s waist.

“If we do this, no one will see anything, right?”

With that, Sugiura began to pull down Keita’s jeans.

“I said no, damn it!”

Keita grabbed Sugiura’s hair roughly, finally making him stop. Sugiura’s narrowed eyes took on a sullen look, and he glared at Keita.

“I covered it up properly.”

“That’s not the point!”

Sugiura pouted and looked away with a huff.

“Fine. I’ll just leave you here, Keita, and go home.”

Keita, who was still sitting on Sugiura’s lap, stiffened.

“You can be friends with your ghost.”

Keita had refused sex a few times before, but Sugiura had never been this cruel about it, and it shocked him. He had thought Sugiura was the type who wouldn’t talk back or contradict him. A wave of unpleasant déjà vu washed over him.

Before Yanagisawa’s attitude had suddenly changed, Keita had made a mistake. He shouldn’t have forgiven Yanagisawa for cheating, but instead, he clung to his feelings, and Yanagisawa had taken advantage of that, treating him poorly. This felt eerily similar. If he gave in now, would Sugiura change, too?

But Keita was scared. He was afraid of pushing Sugiura away. What if Sugiura stayed cold toward him forever? What if he started saying hurtful things? Overwhelmed by the anxiety swirling through him, Keita timidly rubbed his cheek against Sugiura’s to placate him. His trembling hand reached down to unzip Sugiura’s jeans, pulling out his partially aroused member.

“It tickles,” Sugiura whispered in a low, raspy voice near Keita’s ear. Keita felt a slight sense of relief, thinking Sugiura’s mood was improving. As they continued to kiss, Sugiura’s fingers began to impatiently tug at Keita’s jeans again. The thought of hearing more cold words if he refused made it impossible for Keita to firmly say no.

“Will it be quick?” Keita asked.

Sugiura replied, “Quick? How quick is quick?”

“Five minutes.”

Looking up at the sooty clock on the kitchen wall, Sugiura murmured, “I’ll give it a try,” and promptly pulled Keita’s jeans down to his thighs. He then roughly kneaded Keita’s exposed buttocks, causing a sharp pain before his fingers began to explore deeper.

His fingers moved inside Keita slowly and teasingly. At first, Keita thought that the sooner they started, the sooner it would be over, but as the familiar caresses gradually brought pleasure, he started to lose his composure. The practiced touches slowly drew out his pleasure, pressing against his sensitive spots from the inside, making his knees tremble and his voice escape involuntarily. Keita hurriedly kissed Sugiura to keep from making noise, but this impulsive act quickly turned into torture. As Sugiura’s fingers toyed with him below, his tongue relentlessly explored Keita’s mouth, causing his whole body to tremble with unspent pleasure.

“There’s no way we can finish within five minutes,” Sugiura said, still surprisingly calm despite the situation, which made Keita want to bite him out of frustration.

“Lift your hips a little,” Sugiura urged, and Keita obediently raised his hips. Following Sugiura’s guidance, he lowered himself onto Sugiura’s penis. The familiar size and shape filled him slowly.

“It feels good,” Sugiura murmured blissfully in Keita’s ear. Keita rubbed his hips against Sugiura’s pubic hair before beginning to move slowly. He couldn’t tell if he was moving actively to make it end faster or if it was because he genuinely wanted to. The endless kisses, the ceaseless caresses—the five minutes they had agreed upon had long since passed, yet it still wasn’t over.

“Let go, let go of me,” Keita pleaded.

At first, Sugiura had gently stroked him, but now his fingers were holding back Keita’s release at the base. Sugiura often did this to tease Keita, who was a bit quick to climax and had trouble timing it right.

“Just a little longer,” Sugiura said.

“It’s been more than five minutes already!” Keita retorted.

Keita continued to be teased relentlessly, just a little longer, just a little more, until he couldn’t stop his small gasps and moans. Sugiura’s movements became shorter and quicker, and then, holding Keita tightly enough to cause pain, he climaxed. At the same time, Keita was released, and he came powerfully into Sugiura’s hand that was wrapped around him.

Breathing heavily as if he had just run a long-distance race, Keita locked eyes with Sugiura and then kissed him.

“Sorry to interrupt,” came a voice from behind them, startling Keita so much that he nearly jumped.

“I’m coming in. The extra plates are in that cupboard over there.”

It was Enomoto’s voice. The thought of how long he might have been watching made Keita’s ears burn with embarrassment. He couldn’t even stand up to cover himself, not with Sugiura still inside him. The clinking of the plates seemed unnaturally loud.

“Do we have enough food?” Sugiura asked calmly, stroking Keita’s lowered head.

“It’s tight, but we’ve still got dessert, and they’re the kind who’ll be fine as long as there’s booze, even without food,” Enomoto replied.

“Should I make a quick snack? There are still some ingredients left.”

“No, it’s fine.”

Enomoto’s presence lingered far longer than Keita wished.

“It’s good that you’re so lively, but maybe show a little restraint. Your voices carry all the way to the counter. And remember, today’s party is mainly for singles.”

“Sorry,” Sugiura apologized softly. Then, without warning, he tilted Keita’s chin up and kissed him forcefully. Enomoto muttered, exasperated, “Good grief…”

“I hope everyone finds someone they love,” Sugiura said, tightening his embrace around Keita. “I’m so happy, and I hope everyone else finds a lover like you, Keita.”

“Yeah, sure,” Enomoto replied, his tone slightly flat, before finally leaving them alone. Only then was Keita able to move off Sugiura. Since they hadn’t used a condom, the remnants of Sugiura’s release began to leak out, staining his thighs.

“Sorry, I forgot to put one on,” Sugiura murmured, grabbing a nearby towel and pressing it against Keita’s crotch.

“Press down, like this,” he instructed.

If they were in a room, this scene would have been routine. But this wasn’t their private space. The thought that someone might see made it impossible for Keita to follow Sugiura’s instructions properly.

“Are you okay now? Nothing else coming out?”

Keita nodded, trembling, and Sugiura began straightening his disheveled clothes. Even after properly pulling on his jeans, the sensation of Sugiura inside him lingered deeply, like the sticky aftertaste of overly sweet candy.

“I’m sorry,” Sugiura whispered, his right hand gently caressing Keita’s cheek. “I’m sorry for doing it even though you said no.”

“It’s fine now,” Keita replied, but despite the pleasure, he felt a strange, unpleasant aftertaste.

“When I said I’d leave you, that was just a lie.”

“I said it’s fine.”

“I’m sorry for being mean.”

Sugiura’s eyes were genuinely remorseful, but that only made Keita feel a surge of irritation.

“If you know it’s wrong, then don’t say things like that!” Keita snapped.

Sugiura’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Don’t threaten people to make them do what you want!”

“I-I’m sorry.”

“You knew I couldn’t say no…”

As he spoke, the question “Why?” arose in Keita’s mind. Why couldn’t he say no? Was it because he didn’t want to be alone? Was he afraid of upsetting Sugiura and losing his place to stay? What if he had no one beside him when he had those terrifying dreams? But it didn’t have to be Sugiura—he could go to a friend’s house and avoid being alone.

The thought of Sugiura hating him scared him. If even a playful threat like that hurt so much, the idea of Sugiura being genuinely cold to him was almost unbearable. The mere thought of it made Keita’s chest tighten, almost to the point of tears.

The sweet voice, the gentle, coaxing tone, the excessive physical affection, and the endless declarations of love—it was all so one-sided. He was so enveloped in the comfort of it all that he hadn’t allowed himself to think deeply about it.

“Ah…” Keita muttered softly as the realization hit him. He understood it now—he was in love with this man. Despite his slight speech impediment, poor timing, skill in bed, dislike of books, and love of movies, Keita had fallen deeply in love with Sugiura. From the start, he didn’t dislike him. In fact, he had thought Sugiura was pretty great, but he hadn’t realized just how deeply he was involved. It was the same as with Yanagisawa. His motivations were impure, but somewhere along the way, he had fallen harder than he had realized, completely unaware of his feelings until now.

As Keita stood there, stunned by his realization, Sugiura tilted his head, his expression carefree as he asked, “What’s wrong?”

◇:*:◆:*:◇

Keita jolted awake in the middle of the night, his body drenched in sweat and his throat parched. It was from screaming too much... in his dream.

“Hey, wake up.”

He called out, but his lover, sleeping beside him, didn’t even stir. Normally, he’d wake up the moment Keita called, but tonight he was deep asleep, not moving at all. It had been a week since the party, and ever since that night, the nightmares that had once stayed away for so long began haunting Keita again. Every night, without fail, like Yanagisawa's ghost had summoned them. Yanagisawa’s ghost knew. It knew and appeared in his dreams.

Tears welled up in Keita’s eyes as he clung to his unresponsive lover. Because he had fallen in love with this man, because he loved him so much that he was afraid of being hated, Yanagisawa’s ghost was taking revenge. Taunting him, saying, “You killed me, and now you’re happily with someone else?”

Keita wanted to say to the Yanagisawa in his dreams: “I’ve already regretted it countless times. If I had known I would meet Sugiura, I wouldn’t have killed you. I would have left you alone. If I hadn’t gone to see that play, if I hadn’t gone near your apartment, I wouldn’t have had the chance to see you. Not seeing you would’ve been the same as you being dead to me. That way, I could’ve loved this man without any guilt.”

The sin he had committed couldn’t be erased. The fact that he had killed someone couldn’t be erased. Keita curled up, gritting his teeth to endure. No matter how much he was tormented in his dreams, he would endure it. He would never tell anyone about Yanagisawa, not even to his dying day. If the body remained undiscovered, it would become an eternal secret—a secret taken to the grave.

Keita spent the long sleepless night imagining ways to dispose of the body. For example, he thought of burying the body in the mountains. But even if it was buried, could it be considered a safe place? It might just be a mountain now, but in a few years, it could be developed into residential land. If he threw the body into the sea, the fish might eat it, but without sufficient weight attached, it would eventually resurface. Should he encase it in concrete and sink it, like in the yakuza movies he’d seen? But could he really pull off something so elaborate?

As he thought about it, a throbbing pain began to spread through his head. Every method seemed both realistic and utterly unfeasible. He realized there was nothing he could do. If only the body would just disappear, if only all traces of that man’s existence could be erased from this world.

Morning arrived without Keita having slept. At precisely 7:00 AM, like clockwork, Sugiura woke up and greeted him with a cheerful “Good morning.” Keita clung to Sugiura like a lustful dog, initiating a kiss. Even though they had done it last night, he wanted more in the morning. Although Sugiura was pleased with his assertive lover and responded eagerly, he only brought Keita to orgasm and didn’t enter him.

By early afternoon, Keita was hungry, so he left the apartment to go to the convenience store. On the way, he stopped by a bookstore and found a series of paperbacks he had been reading, buying them in bulk because they were so interesting. But there were only four out of five volumes available. Reluctantly, he decided to go to a well-stocked bookstore near his university.

At a large bookstore that occupied the entire fifth floor of a building, he finally found the missing volume. Satisfied, he took the down escalator. When he reached the escalator in front of the third floor, a middle-aged woman ahead of him hesitated, unsure whether to get off at that floor or continue down. This caused Keita, who was behind her, to stop as well.

As he glanced at the mirrored wall across from him, Keita let out a startled gasp. His reflection was there, but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was the man standing behind him.

It was Yanagisawa. Yanagisawa was standing right behind him. Their eyes met in the mirror. Yanagisawa narrowed his eyes and lifted the corners of his mouth slightly. He was... smiling.

Keita shoved the indecisive woman aside and leaped onto the descending escalator. He hurried down, disregarding anyone who might be inconvenienced by his actions. As soon as he reached the first floor, he rushed outside.

The sound of laughter he shouldn’t have been able to hear echoed in his ears—a high, grating laugh that didn’t fit a man’s voice. Yanagisawa had also been a fan of books, and they had often gone to that bookstore together. Standing there on the sun-scorched asphalt, Keita suddenly stopped. It’s a ghost, so it doesn’t matter where I run; it’ll follow me wherever I go. It will chase me forever. Though sweat was pouring down his face, his body felt cold. Even though he couldn’t see it, Yanagisawa might be standing right next to him. His spine tingled with a chill. When he looked down, he realized he was only holding his wallet. The books he had been so eager to read were left behind. Keita laughed. It was funny, so he laughed, but something about his laughter felt off, even to himself.

“Keita?”

Hearing his name brought him back to reality. He had been lost in thought, remembering the events of the afternoon while eating. Recently, Sugiura had occasionally been coming home early, and tonight he had cooked dinner.

“Do you not have an appetite?”

The pasta on his fork had long since gone cold.

“Oh, um... sorry.”

“Would you have preferred something lighter?”

“I’ll eat it.”

Keita forced the cold pasta into his mouth.

“You don’t have to force yourself,” Sugiura said softly, reaching out to gently stroke Keita’s head. The pasta, half-bitten, fell back onto the plate. Realizing there was no point in pretending, Keita put down his fork, not intending to pick it up again.

He crawled toward Sugiura, who was sitting across from him. Climbing onto Sugiura’s lap, Keita clung to him, wrapping his arms around his neck. In response, Sugiura began to stroke his back, sometimes patting him gently as if to soothe him.

“Are you feeling lonely?” Sugiura whispered, and Keita looked up.

“You look sad. Are you lonely even when you’re with me?”

“If we stay like this, I won’t feel lonely.”

Sugiura tightened his embrace. Keita felt intoxicated by that reliable, comforting strength. As they continued to kiss, Keita didn’t even notice when Sugiura had started undressing him. With Sugiura’s tender caresses, Keita’s body heated up, eagerly accepting him and wrapping around him hungrily.

Even as he was rocked by the pleasure, his mind remained oddly clear. No matter how many times Yanagisawa appeared in his dreams or in real life, he couldn’t actually harm him. Ghosts couldn’t do anything. The real problem might be the body. To make the secret complete, he would have to get rid of it. Ideally, it would disappear without a trace, leaving no evidence of its existence. Maybe he could throw it away like garbage. But if he just tossed the entire body into a garbage bag, it would stand out, and it would be too heavy.

So maybe he should chop it up. Cut it into pieces, put them in separate garbage bags, and throw them out. As chunks of flesh, Yanagisawa would be incinerated in a furnace, leaving nothing behind. But how would he cut up the frozen body? A kitchen knife wouldn’t do the job. Suddenly, Keita remembered a horror movie he had seen long ago—one with a monster wielding a chainsaw, terrifying and chasing after people.

Keita shivered, and Sugiura asked, “Are you cold?” Keita shook his head and kissed Sugiura. Sugiura’s penis, which had been still, shifted position and started to harden slightly.

“Hey, do you love me?” Keita asked.

Even though Keita knew the answer, he couldn't help but ask. Not too long ago, he never would have imagined himself clinging to someone, speaking in such a sweet, needy voice. Sugiura, with a serious expression, whispered “I love you” into Keita’s ear and gently rocked his hips, still connected to him. After who knows how many times they had both come, Sugiura slowly pulled out of Keita, causing a shiver as the sensation brushed against him.

"Keita, you know..." Sugiura began, speaking to Keita as he lay on his back, staring blankly at the ceiling.

“You’ve been staying at my place for a while now, right?” Sugiura asked, as if confirming something.

“Yeah,” Keita replied.

“But you still have your own apartment, right? I mean, you’re still paying rent for it. Isn’t that a waste of money? So, well... why don’t you just move in with me?”

Sugiura, with a slightly flushed face, gestured as he spoke. “If this place is too small for your stuff, we can move somewhere bigger.”

Keita’s mind flashed to the freezer where the body was stored, picturing a life with Sugiura and himself, living alongside that freezer. The idea was almost too darkly ironic.

“It’s a hassle, let’s just keep things as they are,” Keita replied.

“But...” Sugiura started to protest.

“Moving in won’t change anything,” Keita cut him off, thinking that would end the conversation, but Sugiura wasn’t satisfied. He continued to ask Keita to move in.

“Aren’t things pretty much the same as they are now?” Keita said, growing irritated with Sugiura’s persistence.

“No, it’s not the same,” Sugiura said, shaking his head emphatically. “I want this place, where I am, to be the place you come home to. I want us to live like a family, Keita.”

Sugiura clasped Keita’s right hand in both of his. “I never got along with my family. Everyone else is smart, but I was the odd one out, like I didn’t belong. My sister and brother got praised, but I was always getting scolded. When I was in, um, that school after elementary school, I fell down the stairs and broke a bone, so I was in the hospital. My mom brought DVDs to keep me from getting bored, and I watched them over and over. They were movies about family... I was so envious. I thought if I tried hard enough, maybe they’d love me too.”

Sugiura lowered his head, his voice tinged with sadness.

“I thought if I got into high school, I’d finally be normal and everyone would praise me. So I studied hard, but I failed the entrance exams... and when I said I wanted to work, my father got angry and said, ‘Someone as careless as you can’t work.’”

His grip on Keita’s hand was trembling.

“All I had there was my failures. I left home, determined to live on my own, telling myself I didn’t need a family. But that was a lie. I’m lonely. I long for someone to love, and to be loved. To have someone to live with, to be together with. I want to be your family, Keita. Even if we can’t be a real family, I want to be like family to you.”

Sugiura’s loneliness poured out, and Keita found himself holding the trembling man close, his own heart aching with empathy.

“I’m happy when I come home from work and you’re here waiting for me. Just knowing you’re here makes me happy.”

Keita wanted to be with Sugiura not for himself, but for Sugiura’s sake. He didn’t want to leave him feeling lonely. As he ran his fingers through Sugiura’s soft hair, he wondered how his parents could have failed to love such a kind and gentle man.

“I want us to go to a deserted island,” Sugiura murmured suddenly.

“I want to live with you somewhere where there’s no one else. You could nap under a tree, and I’d go find food. Like a worker bee, I’d devote myself to you for the rest of my life.”

His declaration of loyalty pierced through Keita’s heart. But in the back of his mind, the hum of the freezer motor played. If Sugiura knew that he was living with a murderer, how would he react?

“Do you love me?” Keita blurted out, unable to stop himself.

Sugiura, smiling with a look that was almost on the verge of tears, answered, “I love you so much.”

Keita felt a wave of relief and clung to him. But the truth, the guilt, and the body wouldn’t disappear. They wouldn’t go away.

In the apartment, the hum of the freezer filled the room. The frozen body...

Keita’s heart sank.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

Returning to the apartment for the first time in about a month, Keita found the air inside stale and musty with mold. He placed the newly bought chainsaw box on the floor. Ensuring there were no gaps, he tightly closed the curtains and locked the door, securing it with the chain lock.

Wearing gloves, he opened the box and took out its contents. The vicious machine had been surprisingly easy to purchase. He had gone to the nearby hardware store disguised in a blue work outfit and a baseball cap, with contact lenses instead of glasses, to avoid recognition by surveillance cameras in case the body was discovered and traced back to the store where he bought the chainsaw.

He plugged the chainsaw into the outlet, feeling its weight settle heavily in his right hand as he lifted it. When he switched it on, the oval blade whirred into motion with a loud buzzing sound. 

The male clerk at the store had asked, "What size wood are you cutting?" as Keita, staring at the clerk's waist, had replied in a deliberately muted voice, "About 30 centimeters thick. (12 inches)"

"Will you be carrying it around in the mountains?" the clerk had continued. Keita had nodded in response, prompting the clerk to bring out a smaller chainsaw from the back.

"How about this one? It's easy to handle and portable. Despite its size, it packs quite a punch," the clerk had said, pointing out the dull gleam of the silver, oval-shaped blade.

"Can it cut through frozen things?" Keita had asked, causing the clerk to look puzzled.

"Isn't it for wood?"

"Oh, no... just asking for reference."

"Well, it can cut through ice, but you'll need to maintain it to prevent rust."

Suddenly, a loud grinding noise erupted, causing Keita to hastily switch off the power. He noticed a rough, splintered scratch on the wooden floor where the chainsaw had accidentally touched. The faint hum of the freezer motor buzzed in the background. 

First, he needed to take the body out of the freezer and move it to the bathroom. Unbag it and dismember it. If it was still frozen, there shouldn’t be too much blood. He would cut it into small pieces, wrap them in newspaper so that nothing was visible from the outside, and then place them in plastic bags. He had several garbage bags prepared and would distribute the pieces among them. Even if some fragments were found, it would be difficult to identify the height and weight if they were all dismembered. As long as the face wasn't found, it would probably remain unidentified. He would then dispose of the bags at a nearby garbage disposal site.

The body would be erased along with the trash, completing the perfect crime. The chainsaw and the freezer would be discarded somewhere during the night—preferably the sea, where they would rust and become unusable quickly. Once everything was done, he would vacate the apartment and move into Sugiura's place as he wished.

Keita approached the freezer slowly. He placed his hand on the door, but froze, unable to move. He knew he had to start by removing the body, yet he couldn’t bring himself to open the door.

He had to get rid of it. If he didn’t, he couldn’t move into Sugiura’s apartment. The body was a shadow over his future, a source of constant anxiety. He wanted to be done with it. Until he ended it, the body’s presence would follow him for the rest of his life. Though the room was swelteringly hot, with sweat beading on his forehead, his body shook uncontrollably. His fingers felt numb and painful.

He panted like a dog, his breathing loud in his ears. He wanted to become a monster from a horror movie, capable of slicing through a human body without hesitation. Just for now, he wanted to become that monster. Keita finally collapsed, crouching and trembling in front of the freezer. Tears welled up at the corners of his eyes. He had been able to strangle Yanagisawa and stuff him into the freezer, but he couldn’t bring himself to dismember the body. He was scared. He didn’t want to see Yanagisawa’s dead face.

He had thought that killing Yanagisawa would heal the wounds of humiliation and betrayal that he had inflicted on him. But in reality, from the moment he killed him, Yanagisawa’s shadow had been chasing him. The man with no physical form appeared in his dreams, haunting him even in broad daylight. Even now, it felt like his ghost was present in the room.

He looked up. The sound of cicadas buzzed in the background. It felt like Yanagisawa was laughing from a dim corner of the ceiling in the curtained room.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

Footnotes

0. Content warning: NSFW, dub-con, su*cide mention.

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