Expired First Love: Section 2 - chapter 13
The content warning is in the footnotes0.
I washed my
body and hair five times each. No matter how much I scrubbed, that smell
wouldn't go away. It lingered, just at the edge of my senses.
"You’re
still in there?" I heard Shima’s voice, even though he should have already
left the shower room. When I turned around, I saw him peering into my shower
stall.
"Your
skin’s all red," he said.
"Uh...
I still feel like I smell," I replied.
Shima
grabbed my arm and brought his nose close.
"I
don’t smell anything. Stop washing like a raccoon and get out of there
already," he snapped.
It was only
after his stern words that I finally stepped out of the shower room. It was
already past seven in the evening, and the part-time workers had gone home.
Only Tachibana and Shima remained at the office.
"...I’m
really sorry about today," I apologized to Tachibana for what felt like
the hundredth time.
"It
was a tough job, and the heat didn’t help. But take a seat," he said,
gesturing to the sofa.
As soon as
I sank into the sofa, I felt a wave of dizziness and pressed my hand to my
forehead. Maybe it was from vomiting so much under the scorching sun.
"Murakami,
was the deceased today someone you knew?" Shima asked, making my body jolt
in surprise.
"Wh-why
do you ask?"
Shima
sighed, as if he had expected it. "I saw the wallet and passport scattered
in the kitchen you were cleaning. I’ve had to clean up after a classmate from
middle school who passed away, so I understand how you feel."
I clenched
my hands tightly.
"He
was my boss at the first company I worked for."
Tachibana
scratched his head. "No wonder it was tough for you. Especially if he was
someone you were close to..."
"I
wasn’t close to him at all!" I snapped.
"It’s
because he embezzled company funds that I got caught up in it and was forced to
quit!"
Tachibana
and Shima fell silent.
"I’m sorry
for yelling. I only have bad feelings toward him… and yet…"
"Gambling
can ruin your life," Tachibana sighed. "The woman mentioned that he
was addicted to pachinko. There are many cases of pachinko addicts committing
suicide because of their debts. Some don’t even die at home; they cut their
wrists or hang themselves in the pachinko parlor’s bathroom. We used to clean
those sites a lot. We operate during the day, so we’d go to clean up during
business hours. It was eerie to see people playing pachinko as if nothing had
happened, even though someone had just died in the bathroom."
Tachibana
glanced at Shima.
"Yeah.
But I generally don’t feel sympathy for people who commit suicide," Shima
said firmly. I buried my head in my hands.
"I was
addicted to pachinko too. I hated that boss so much, but now I wonder if we
weren’t the same at the core... I could have ended up like him. There were
times when I was homeless that I even thought about ending it all..."
That sense
of despair I had tried to forget came rushing back.
"But
that’s just a 'what if,' right? Murakami, you didn’t end up like him. And
that’s what matters. Even if you make the same mistakes, if you acknowledge
them and never repeat them, that’s what counts. Suicide is the ultimate,
irreversible act of weakness."
"But—"
I raised my head.
"My
parents... they had debts because of the company, and they killed themselves.
They were honest, cheerful, and had never done anything wrong. But they hung
themselves at home... They took responsibility for everything with their own
lives. It wasn’t weakness."
Shima
looked down at me steadily.
"...If
those left behind are left to suffer and regret, then it was still the wrong
choice."
His words
felt like a denial. I didn’t want to accept my parents’ suicide as a mistake.
But deep down, I knew it was wrong. I wanted them to stay alive. No matter how
hard things were, I wanted us all to live together.
I cried. I
cried for a long time, and when the tears finally subsided, it felt like the
nightmarish stench had lifted from around me.
"If
you’re having a hard time, why don’t you take a break?" Tachibana
suggested gently. After thinking it over, I replied, "No, I’ll come in on
Monday." Shima added, "Don’t push yourself too hard," but I knew
that working was better than being alone at home.
I rode my
bike back to my apartment. The night air was cool, occasionally mixed with the
faint smell of exhaust fumes. My thoughts were consumed by Mizoguchi’s death.
He had been a burden both in life and in death. What was the difference between
him and me?
It was
probably that Mizoguchi didn’t have someone like Uno. He didn’t have anyone to
reach out a hand when he hit rock bottom. Uno’s selfless love was what had
helped me get back on my feet.
I felt a
deep loneliness, not just from the coldness of the wind but from within. I
wanted comfort. I didn’t want to be alone at home. I stopped my bike, clasped
my hands together, and pressed them to my forehead.
"I am
kind," I muttered.
"I am
strong and righteous," I told myself.
"I
won’t stray from the right path again."
But was I
really strong? Was I kind? Was I righteous? Or was I just trying to convince
myself?
If I were
truly strong, I wouldn’t be sitting here, shaking in the middle of the road on
my bike.
I turned
the bike around and pedaled as fast as I could, as if trying to escape
something, until I reached Uno’s apartment. The light was on in the window, so
he was probably home.
Driven by
impulse, I rushed into the building and pressed the intercom for his apartment.
"...Hello?"
came the reply, and the door opened. Uno hadn’t even checked who it was through
the peephole, and he looked surprised when he saw me standing there. He was
dressed in a shirt and slacks, probably just home from work and not yet changed.
"What’s
wrong? Why are you here so suddenly?"
I couldn’t
bring myself to say it was because I was lonely.
"You
look pale. Are you okay?"
I touched
my cheek.
"There
was a lot that happened at the site today..." I trailed off.
Uno looked
at me intently, like a doctor examining a patient.
"Do
you want to come in for a bit?"
I nodded,
and he let me inside. The hallway, the living room—everything was just as it
had been when I left. I collapsed onto the sofa, slumping over. It was only
when I felt my strength drain away that I realized just how exhausted I was.
"Did
you eat dinner?"
I shook my
head.
"I’ll
go get something for you. Is a bento okay?"
"I’m
not hungry... I don’t feel well enough to eat."
I hadn’t
eaten anything since before noon, but I didn’t feel hungry. I heard the crinkle
of plastic, and when I looked up, there was a convenience store onigiri and
some tea on the table in front of me.
"You
can eat it when you feel like it," Uno said, standing across the table,
looking down at me.
"If
you want some quiet, I can go to the bedroom," he offered.
"...If
I wanted to be alone, I wouldn’t have come here."
Uno gave a
small, wry smile. "You’re right," he agreed.
"Sit
next to me," I said.
He
hesitated for a moment before sitting down. I leaned over and wrapped my arms
around his stiff knees. His body tensed for a moment, but then he relaxed.
...I
breathed in the familiar scent of Uno and felt a deep sense of relief wash over
me. Why did being with him make me feel so safe? Probably because I didn’t have
to put up any walls around him. This was the man who hadn’t abandoned me even
when I was unwashed and reeking like living garbage.
I lifted my
head and moved to kiss him, but Uno instinctively recoiled. His reaction hurt
me, but it also made me angry. I grabbed his arm and pulled him close,
embracing him tightly.
Strength?
It was just self-deception. I was weak. I was so weak that I had ruined my life
with pachinko.
It wasn't
just physical contact that I craved—I needed something deeper, something that
would comfort me on a profound level. Like before, like he always did.
Dragging
Uno, who was hesitating, I led him into the bedroom.
"Mu...
Murakami," he stammered.
I pushed
him down onto the bed, which creaked loudly under our weight.
"No,
we can't. My girlfriend might come over," he protested, trying to push me
away. Ignoring him, I held his head still and kissed him hungrily. A sharp,
burning pain shot through my tongue, and I pulled away, tasting blood in my
mouth.
"If
you're just here to do this, then leave," Uno said, glaring at me with
trembling eyes.
"Do
you really think I came here just to have sex?" I shot back.
The
sharpness in his gaze wavered. I ran my fingers through his hair, almost
tenderly.
"Please...
don't fight me on this," I begged, my voice cracking.
Uno’s lips
twisted as if he were about to cry.
"This
isn't right," he whispered.
When he
could no longer resist, I started undressing him. As he lay naked, his body
trembled slightly. I could feel his warmth seeping into me where our skin
touched. I ran my hands over him, from behind his ears to the tips of his toes.
His face looked like he was about to cry, but his body was blushing a soft
pink, like delicate flower petals.
I parted
his knees, which he had pressed together to hide his erection. Finally, he
covered his face with both hands. His body, which had started to respond under
my touch, was now fully aroused. I positioned myself between his legs to
prevent him from closing them and began to touch him deep inside. It had been a
while, so he was tight and resistant, but I slowly worked him open before
carefully penetrating him.
"Ahh..."
Uno moaned, sounding almost like he was crying. Inside, he was warm, and he
clenched around me as if trying to squeeze me out. I paused, kissing him gently
while waiting for his body to adjust to the intrusion. Once he relaxed, I began
moving again, brushing against the spot that made him arch his back and tremble
with pleasure.
Just then,
the sound of a phone ringing broke through the air, and Uno's attention shifted
toward the sound. The fact that he was thinking about something other than me
irritated me, so I held him close and shook him slightly. The phone stopped
ringing, and the pleasure began to build again. I thrust harder, and the warmth
of his body pulled me over the edge. It was only after I finished that I
realized I’d forgotten to use a condom.
Despite
having come inside him, I noticed wetness on my stomach. Uno’s erection, which
had been swollen and rubbing against my abdomen, now lay spent and damp against
his body. He had climaxed just from the stimulation inside him, without any
need for external touch. Uno turned his tear-streaked face to the side. Men
can’t fake it. No matter what they say, their bodies don't reject the pleasure
given by another man.
I slid
down, lifting his now limp legs. I buried my face between them, inhaling his
unique, musky scent. I’d never wanted to do this before, but now I took him
into my mouth.
"Ah...
no, you can't..." Uno protested weakly, but his body betrayed him,
hardening inside my mouth. As I sucked and kneaded his balls, his body writhed
like a fish out of water. Watching him feel good because of me filled me with
satisfaction. It reassured me that this wasn’t a one-sided act.
A loud
noise came from the front door, and it was as if cold water had been dumped
over me. My excitement vanished in an instant. Uno’s body tensed with a violent
shudder.
"Yuuki-san,
I’m here!" a high-pitched female voice called out. Uno’s face drained of
color, and he started to panic.
"Murakami,
move!" he whispered urgently, kicking his legs to get me off him.
Footsteps drew closer.
"If
you're home, you could’ve answered the phone," the voice said, irritated.
Uno grabbed
my hair roughly, trying to pull me away from his crotch.
"Murakami...
please..." he pleaded, but I ignored him, sucking harder on his now
completely limp member.
"Hey,
where are you? I saw your shoes," the woman called out from the living
room. Realizing that I wasn't going to move, Uno hastily threw a blanket over
us to hide what was happening.
"Are
you asleep?" she wondered aloud, sliding open the bedroom door. The room
fell into silence except for Uno’s trembling thighs and the tension that hung
in the air.
"...What
are you doing?" the woman's voice dropped low, all traces of its earlier
cheerfulness gone.
"This
is... well..." Uno trailed off, unable to find the words.
He could
have just said it—that the person giving him a blowjob was the one he really
cared about. If he had truly resisted, I wouldn't have been able to pin him
down like this. The fact that things had come to this was because of Uno's own
feelings. I grew frustrated with his refusal to face reality, and I bit down
hard on his flaccid member.
"Agh!"
Uno yelped, kicking his legs in pain.
"That
hurts! Stop it, Murakami!" he cried.
The blanket
slid off us, exposing our naked bodies to the cool air.
"A...
man," the woman gasped, her voice trembling with disgust.
"That's
so gross! What the hell? Die!" she spat, and I heard her storm out of the
room, slamming the door behind her. The sound of the door closing echoed,
leaving us alone again. I pulled myself up, and the blanket fell to the floor.
A sharp,
stinging pain shot through my cheek as Uno slapped me. His hand was shaking,
his eyes were red, and his teeth were chattering.
"This...
is the worst," he muttered through trembling lips.
"You
told me to move, but what would you have said? That we were just lying naked
together, not having sex? Who would believe that?" I grabbed his right
hand, which was poised to strike me again, and pushed him down onto the bed. I
straddled him, looking down into his eyes.
"...Even
if you hate me, even if you don’t trust me, you didn’t have to put on that kind
of show," Uno said, weakly hitting my chest with his left hand. His words,
spoken as if to protect the woman, made me feel sick. I wanted to ask him, who
do you really care about?
"Did
you sleep with her?" I asked.
Uno looked
up at me with open contempt in his eyes.
"You
claim to love me, but you betrayed me and slept with her?"
"Don’t
be ridiculous!" Uno shouted.
"No
matter how much I love you, you don’t give a damn about me. It’s always been
that way. You’ve never really cared about me. Maybe I’m not completely
invisible to you, but I’m just someone who’s there if you need me, but if I
weren’t, you wouldn’t miss me. When you were borrowing money from your friends,
you didn’t even think to come to me. I wasn’t even part of the group of people
you thought of as friends. If you hadn’t ended up completely alone, if I hadn’t
been your last option... you wouldn’t have acknowledged me at all."
Tears
streamed down Uno’s flushed face.
"Even
after you finally started paying attention to me, you’d leave as soon as you
weren’t lonely anymore. You’d say you loved me, but then cry because you wanted
someone else. What was I supposed to do?"
I knew I
had hurt Uno terribly, but I had never really considered how deeply that pain
went. Uno wasn’t the type to openly express his feelings, so I had never
stopped to think about what he must have been going through while staying by my
side. But had I really not known? Maybe I just didn’t want to see it.
Murakami
gently stroked Uno's hair. He didn’t want to hand this man, who cried and
confessed his love for him, over to anyone else. He didn’t want anyone else to
touch him.
"Break
up with that woman," Murakami said.
Uno sobbed
loudly.
"I
might not be able to love you... but stay by my side."
Uno’s
trembling lips cursed him, calling him "a heartless bastard." Despite
the insults, Murakami pulled Uno closer, holding his now thinner body tightly
as their bodies pressed together.
"You
heartless bastard! If it were Saitou-san, you’d never do something so terrible.
You’d never say such things... You even said yourself that you couldn’t be
happy with me. But then you only come to me when you’re lonely... always...
always..." Uno’s voice trailed off, but his arms wrapped around Murakami’s
back, pulling him closer.
...Uno was
right. If it were Hinano, I’d never demand something so unreasonable.
I’m just
taking advantage of this man. Uno lets me because he forgives everything...
anything I do.
"When
I had a crush on you, I thought it would be so much fun to be with you. But
it’s not. It’s not fun at all. When you’re around, it’s painful."
Even if it
hurts, I can’t let go. I cupped his face and kissed him hungrily. As I kissed
him, Uno hiccupped like a child. When I pulled away, he broke down and started
crying.
"My...
it hurts," Uno whimpered through his tears.
"It
hurts... so much."
"I’m
sorry, I’m sorry," Murakami apologized, pulling the fallen blanket back
over Uno and hugging him tightly. Murakami let out a deep sigh.
◇:-:◆:-:◇
The next
morning, Murakami woke up hungry. The room was dim, but when he looked at the
clock, it was already 10 a.m. He quietly pulled back the curtains and saw that
it was raining outside.
The weather
was bad, and his stomach was growling, but his mind felt clear. Uno, with his
puffy eyelids, was still asleep next to him, wrapped in the sheets. The
mattress springs creaked when Murakami got out of bed, but Uno showed no signs
of waking.
Murakami
went to the living room and quickly ate the onigiri that had been left on the
table, almost choking on it before gulping down some tea. As he was about to
return to bed, he stepped on something that made a weird crunching sound. It
was the borrowed cellphone. Worried that the screen might be cracked, he hurriedly
flipped it open and was relieved to see it was fine.
On a whim,
he opened the camera function and zoomed in on Uno’s sleeping face. Seeing the
strange allure in his tear-streaked, swollen eyes, Murakami couldn’t resist
snapping a picture. Pleased with how it turned out, he saved it.
Crouching
down beside the bed, Murakami touched Uno’s cheek, running his hand over it
again and again. Finally, after too much petting, Uno’s eyelids squeezed shut
as if annoyed before slowly opening again.
His sleepy
eyes looked up at Murakami, and seeing himself reflected in those eyes,
Murakami felt an overwhelming urge to kiss him. He leaned in, and Uno closed
his eyes, parting his lips invitingly. As their kiss deepened, Murakami felt
the urge to touch him, so he climbed back into bed.
As he
kissed him, he let his hands roam, touching Uno’s shoulders, back, and waist,
wherever he felt like. When his hand brushed the base of Uno’s erection, Uno
let out a startled gasp. Surprised by the reaction, Murakami quickly pulled his
hand away.
I just
touched it... he thought, puzzled, before remembering the rough treatment from
the day before.
"Does
it still hurt?" Murakami asked.
Uno blushed
all the way down to his neck.
"It’s...
okay. I was just surprised, that’s all," he said.
Murakami
stroked Uno’s forehead.
"I
guess that was pretty traumatic. I’m sorry."
Uno gave a
wry smile but didn’t deny it.
"But I
promise I’ll never do that again... so don’t let anyone else, either,"
Murakami said, looking into his eyes and pleading.
Uno didn’t
respond with a yes. "Come on," Murakami pressed, but still, Uno
didn’t reply. Instead, he got out of bed and didn’t come back.
Murakami
waited for a while, then went to find him. Uno was sitting on the sofa in just
his underwear. Murakami wondered if he wanted to be alone, but he sat next to
him and pulled him into an embrace. Uno didn’t resist.
Wanting to
hold him closer, Murakami positioned Uno to straddle his lap, facing him. He
pulled Uno against him and pressed his face into Uno’s chest. He could feel
Uno’s heart pounding wildly.
"Your
heart’s racing," Murakami laughed.
"It’s
because this feels different from usual," Uno murmured.
"What
feels different?"
"You,"
Uno replied, looking down. "But it’s nothing, forget it," he said,
shaking his head.
"Tell
me. Now I’m curious," Murakami urged.
But Uno
remained silent, stubbornly closing his mouth. Murakami playfully pinched his
lips.
"Don’t
play with my face," Uno scolded.
Murakami
laughed and caressed Uno’s cheek.
"I’m
not as strong as you think I am," Murakami admitted, then continued,
"When I’m having a hard time, I want you to comfort me. I need you."
Uno ran his
fingers through Murakami’s hair, and Murakami was reminded of the time Uno had
cut his hair when he started working at BC Corporation, a memory that brought a
sense of comfort.
"...Today,
you’re looking at me like you’re in love," Uno murmured, his voice barely
audible.
"It’s
unsettling."
After a
brief silence, Murakami asked, "Why do you think I’m in love?"
Uno
suddenly blurted, "I’m sorry," and covered his face with his hands.
"Sorry
for saying something weird."
Murakami
gently took Uno’s hands away from his face. Uno looked like he was about to
cry.
"I
love you," Murakami said, and suddenly everything made sense. His
unusually cheerful mood since the morning clicked into place. But instead of a
happy response, Uno burst into tears and clung to him.
As Uno
cried, his sobs growing louder than the rain outside, Murakami couldn’t help
but feel a strange sense of fulfillment. The weather was gloomy, and the man on
his lap was bawling his eyes out, yet Murakami felt content. He wasn’t alone,
and he wasn’t lonely. He wanted to be gentler with Uno, to keep him from
crying.
As the
sound of the rain enveloped them, Murakami tenderly stroked the head of the man
he might just love.
THE END
Footnotes
0. Content warning: NSFW, dub-con, su*cide mention.
The EPUB version is available at the Ko-fi Shop.
Murakami is terrible. But I’m glad he realized what he had when someone else came into the picture.
ReplyDeleteI’m surprised there aren’t any extras, I still have a feeling that Murakami is still ashamed of his same sex relationship, and he’d never reveal their relationship to his camping friends. It would have been nice to see him proudly say that he’s going out with Uno.
Thank you so much for another amazing translation of khara’s works. The angst was so delicious in this one, and I feel like it is one of her regular romance formulas, which really hit the spot. Can’t wait to see what you work on next! Xoxo
He is indeed terrible. He's not even sure he loves Uno, he's just afraid of being lonely and forgotten, so he latched unto him. If Saitou was still single he would've left Uno in a heartbeat 😭
DeleteThe illustrator drew a short story as an extra, but the resolution is really low. I think I can post it as it is with the translation under it, because I can't clear the JP text.
Thank you so much 💕 the next work will be another Khara novel but I'm going to take a break until next month xoxo