Utsukushii Koto: Volume 1 - Part 12

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That afternoon, Matsuoka visited four clients. He even made a few unplanned sales calls, wearing himself out to keep his mind too occupied to dwell on anything else. But on the train ride home, as he was reading through some documents, Hayama’s words about wanting to marry Hiromatsu echoed in his mind. Hiromatsu had always wanted to get married, and now it seemed their wishes aligned.

That visit to Matsuoka’s apartment had been a whim, just an excuse to return those gloves. He’d been foolish to expect anything more. All the nights he’d secretly hoped someone would be waiting for him outside his door now felt embarrassingly naive.

If Hiromatsu hadn’t started dating Hayama, if Hayama weren’t a mutual acquaintance, if they didn’t work in the same department, Matsuoka wouldn’t have had to be so painfully aware of Hiromatsu’s new relationship in real-time. And if he were honest, he didn’t want to know.

Matsuoka returned to the office around six-thirty. His briefcase was too heavy with paperwork to take it straight home. When he was done, the office  was still filled with a few people, including Hayama, who was speaking urgently with another female colleague. He didn’t call out to her, slipping quietly into the elevator instead.

As he reached the lobby, a voice called out to him, “Matsuoka-san.” His back stiffened. A figure emerged from behind a pillar, and Matsuoka’s feet froze, though he wanted nothing more than to run.

“Um,” the man began, but Matsuoka cut him off.

“Hayama’s still upstairs,” Matsuoka said. “I’ll go get her. She’s finished with work, but she was talking with someone. Why don’t you call her?”

“I’m here to talk to you,” Hiromatsu replied.

Matsuoka had suspected as much but had chosen to play dumb.

“I have nothing to say,” he replied curtly.

Hiromatsu looked down, his expression troubled, and Matsuoka’s chest tightened with guilt, knowing he was the cause of it.

“Just a little of your time,” Hiromatsu pleaded.

Matsuoka didn’t answer, but he was curious about what Hiromatsu wanted to say.

The silence in the empty lobby was broken by the sound of the elevator doors opening. Matsuoka turned to see Hayama step out. Their eyes met.

Hayama broke away from her colleagues and rushed over to Hiromatsu.

“You came to pick me up? You should’ve called,” she said, beaming.

Hiromatsu looked flustered, his gaze darting around. Hayama’s colleagues caught up with her, one of them asking, “Hayama-san, who is this?”

“This is Hiromatsu-san. He helped me when I worked at the Koishikawa Research Lab,” Hayama explained.

“Is he your boyfriend?” one of her coworkers asked, half-sure already.

“Well, I guess you could say that,” Hayama answered with a shy smile, teasing them just a bit before confirming their suspicions.

Her colleagues exchanged knowing glances and gave a few playful remarks before leaving the two of them alone.

“How about we go get something to eat?” Hayama suggested, grabbing Hiromatsu’s arm. Then, as if she had just remembered, she turned back to Matsuoka.

“Oh, Matsuoka-kun, do you want to come with us?”

There was no way Matsuoka could join them. He didn’t have the nerve.

“No, I’ll pass. I’d just be a third wheel,” he replied.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Hayama insisted, as he had expected she would.

But Matsuoka just waved it off and turned to leave without looking at Hiromatsu.

“Wait,” Hiromatsu called out, grabbing Matsuoka’s arm with painful force.

“I came here today to talk to Matsuoka-san. So…”

Hayama’s expression clouded over, the change obvious.

“Oh, I see,” she said, her face falling for just a moment before she forced a smile.

“Can I come too? I promise I won’t get in the way,” Hayama said, still smiling.

But Hiromatsu didn’t respond. Matsuoka glared at him, but it had no effect. It was no surprise since Hiromatsu wasn’t even looking at him. Matsuoka clenched his teeth, feeling the weight of Hiromatsu’s indecision.

“I thought maybe we’d wait until next time, but I guess today’s fine.”

Matsuoka muttered to himself, though it was loud enough not to be considered just a whisper. Then he turned to face Hayama.

"Hiromatsu called me this evening," he said. "He mentioned he wanted to discuss something work-related. It sounds complicated and could take a while, so I’m sure you’d just get bored."

“Is that so?” Hayama looked up at Hiromatsu. But Hiromatsu, who was terrible at lying, didn’t even give her a token nod.

“So I’m sorry about tonight,” Matsuoka added quickly, trying to cover.

“Oh, it’s fine,” Hayama replied, understanding. “If it’s work, it can’t be helped. I might just get in the way, anyway.”

She nodded slightly, accepting the excuse. But as she walked away, Matsuoka couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt seeing her lonely figure. At the same time, a surge of anger welled up inside him toward the man who had just stood there, doing nothing.

Matsuoka started walking briskly on his own. When Hiromatsu hurried to catch up and asked, “Where are you going?” Matsuoka didn’t respond. He remained silent even as they got into the elevator and waited for it to slowly ascend.

The fifth-floor hallway was dimly lit. Matsuoka entered a room labeled "Meeting Room 6." Despite its name, the small space was more of a storage room, cluttered with old brochures, outdated copiers, and product samples.

Hiromatsu, who seemed unfamiliar with the room, looked around curiously.

“What do you want to talk about?” Matsuoka asked, his voice tinged with the remnants of his earlier anger.

“I was hoping we could find a place to sit down and talk at leisure…”

Matsuoka leaned against the old copier.

“I don’t want to invite you to my place, and I don’t want to go to yours. And I don’t want to have this kind of conversation in a public place,” he snapped, cutting Hiromatsu off abruptly, silencing him immediately.

“Give me a break,” Matsuoka said, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Why was it up to me to make excuses to Hayama?”

Hiromatsu averted his gaze when Matsuoka glared at him.

“I asked you a question. Was that my responsibility? I had to come up with lies and cover for you, and you didn’t even bother to back me up.”

As Matsuoka’s voice grew louder, he felt something snap inside him.

“I get it, you don’t like lying. But because you did nothing, I had to do it. Do you think it’s okay for someone else to lie on your behalf?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“It sure looks that way. You always protect yourself, acting like you’re the innocent one, without caring what happens to anyone else. As long as you’re in the right, that’s all that matters.”

Matsuoka could feel tears welling up and closed his eyes in an attempt to stop them.

“For your so-called sense of righteousness, you don’t mind hurting others. Can’t you at least show some basic kindness? If I hadn’t said what I did, Hayama wouldn’t have been satisfied. A single word from you could’ve reassured her, so why couldn’t you say it?”

He bit down hard to stop himself from crying. Hiromatsu looked stricken, his mouth clamped shut like a shell.

Silence hung between them. Matsuoka’s nerves were still on edge, but the urge to cry had passed. He checked his watch.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” he asked.

Hiromatsu didn’t raise his head.

“The security guard will come by at seven-thirty, so you’ve got twenty minutes. Get on with it.”

Hiromatsu remained silent, and Matsuoka made no effort to draw out what he wanted to say. When the clock hit seven-thirty, Matsuoka headed for the door.

“Wait,” Hiromatsu finally called out, but Matsuoka didn’t stop. As he reached for the door handle, Hiromatsu grabbed his right arm.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Hiromatsu said.

Matsuoka turned around. Hiromatsu’s lips trembled as he tried to speak. When he finally managed to get the words out, they reached Matsuoka’s ears like a soft breath.

“Hayama says you’re cool, but you don’t let it go to your head, and you’re kind. At first, I thought you had two sides to you, but now… I’m starting to think that’s not the case.”

Matsuoka stared at him.

“You’re straightforward, and that…”

Hiromatsu seemed to be searching for the right words, mumbling “that” and “uh” before finally hanging his head.

“I don’t understand why I’m so aware of you,” he admitted.

Matsuoka watched as Hiromatsu slowly, almost fearfully, lifted his head.

“Is that something I need to figure out for you?” Matsuoka asked, staring at Hiromatsu’s confused eyes as they widened in surprise.

“Do I need to answer that for you?”

Matsuoka took a deep breath.

“You need to figure out your own feelings.”

Matsuoka tried to pull his arm away, but Hiromatsu’s grip was tight, like a chain.

“I’ve thought about it, but I still don’t know,” Hiromatsu said, refusing to let go. “There were nights I couldn’t sleep because I kept thinking about what you said. I came up with all sorts of justifications in my head, but I couldn’t bring myself to say them to you. I never had the chance…”

Hiromatsu’s fingers dug into Matsuoka’s arm with warmth.

“I don’t think it’s romantic love. But I don’t know what to make of this feeling that you’re constantly on my mind. I can’t place you anywhere.”

Matsuoka yanked his arm away with force, catching Hiromatsu off guard and making him release his grip.

“If you can’t figure out what you feel, then there’s no point in talking,” Matsuoka said. “If this is going to be the same as before, I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to see you again.”

“I…”

Matsuoka swatted away the hand Hiromatsu reached out to him.

“Don’t drag me into your mess just because you’re curious. You haven’t forgotten that you turned me down, have you? At least show some consideration.”

Hiromatsu looked down.

“When it’s me, you’re so inconsiderate. You act like nothing you say can hurt me,” Matsuoka accused.

“That’s not…”

“It is. You have no intention of being with me, do you? Then just leave me alone.”

Footsteps echoed in the hallway. Matsuoka reached for the door handle.

“If you care about me even a little, don’t speak to me again. I’m begging you.”

Matsuoka bowed his head slightly as he opened the door. The security guard who had been approaching looked at him curiously, but Matsuoka just smiled.

“Thanks for your hard work. I was looking for some documents but couldn’t find them, so I’m heading out.”

The guard nodded and said, “Good night.” He then greeted Hiromatsu, who had followed Matsuoka out of the room.

They rode the elevator in silence. When they reached the darkened lobby, Matsuoka stopped by a pillar.

“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing toward the automatic doors. “I’ll leave in about five minutes.”

“But we’re headed the same way,” Hiromatsu muttered. Matsuoka couldn’t help but laugh at the cluelessness.

“I just want to be alone right now,” he said.

Finally, Hiromatsu understood and left. Once his figure disappeared from view, Matsuoka crouched behind the pillar.

His sigh trembled. Regret swirled inside him. Hiromatsu had shown interest in him. Maybe Matsuoka could have convinced himself that Hiromatsu’s curiosity was actually love. But no, that wouldn’t work. No matter how much he tried to convince him, a lie would eventually fall apart. Hiromatsu would only end up saying, “I can’t be with a man.”

Matsuoka let out a long, slow breath. It would take him a little more time to gather the strength to walk on steady legs again.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

In the end, he crouched in the entrance hall for about an hour. The patrolling guard misunderstood, thinking he was feeling unwell.

Dragging his heavy feet, Matsuoka passed through the station gate and descended the stairs. After 9 p.m., the number of trains decreases significantly. He checked the next departure time. The train had just left, and he would have to wait about fifteen minutes for the next one.

Sitting on a white bench along the wall on the station platform, he noticed someone sitting opposite him, wearing familiar clothes. As he recognized who it was, he looked down. Even as a train arrived and left from the opposite platform, the man remained motionless.

When a train came to his side, Matsuoka, worried and hesitant, missed it, unable to board.

He repeated this twice. On the third attempt, he finally got on the train, turning his back to avoid seeing the man on the opposite platform.

He had no idea what the man who let so many trains pass was thinking, and he didn't want to interpret it to his favor.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The next day, Matsuoka left work late, around 9 p.m. He hurried down the platform stairs, knowing a train would arrive in less than a minute. After descending, he walked a bit further down the platform to board from the back, which would be more convenient when he got off at the stop near his apartment.

In the office district, the flow of people sometimes suddenly stops late at night. He walked briskly across the sparsely populated platform. He saw a businessman in a suit on the opposite platform. His resemblance to Hiromatsu made Matsuoka's heart skip a beat. When he realized it was the same man, his feet stopped.

Separated by the tracks, they were probably less than ten meters (32 ft) apart. The train arrived on time, and he boarded. Hiromatsu watched him intently as the train pulled away, his figure growing distant and eventually disappearing. Even after he was out of sight, Matsuoka couldn't calm down. His lingering image replayed in his mind, unsettling him.

Meeting Hiromatsu on the platform wasn’t a coincidence. The next day, and the day after that, he was on the opposite platform. He just watched Matsuoka, never saying anything.

There were days he didn't see him on the platform, usually when Matsuoka left work early. It was easy to imagine that he was coming from the Koishikawa Research Institute, which would take some time.

One day, after going home, Matsuoka wondered how long Hiromatsu would wait and, feeling foolish, changed back into his suit. He took the bus back near the office and went down to the train platform.

He boarded the train nonchalantly, feeling Hiromatsu’s usual gaze from the corner of his eye. Clinging to the handrail in the rattling train, he thought, I'm really an idiot.

How long would this continue? The reason Hiromatsu didn't say anything was because he couldn’t bring himself to. He didn’t have a clear answer. How long should Matsuoka entertain his indecision? The real issue seemed to be that he couldn’t let go of him, but he didn’t know how to deal with these feelings.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

In the late afternoon, just before 4 PM, Matsuoka returned from his rounds outside and was now at his computer, organizing documents to submit. As soon as the end of the workday approached, a few of the office girls quickly started packing up to leave.

"Hayama, would you like to join us for dinner?" a colleague invited, but Hayama declined with a smile, saying, "I still have some work to finish."

Even though he wasn’t staring, Matsuoka’s eyes met Hayama’s. He quickly looked away to avoid any awkwardness. Within thirty minutes, there were only three or four employees left.

"Almost done?" a voice asked from behind, making Matsuoka stop typing.

"Yeah. How about you?"

"My tasks weren't urgent," Hayama murmured, shrugging her shoulders. "It was just an excuse to turn down their dinner invitation. They were probably trying to be considerate."

Hayama peered at Matsuoka's face. "Have you seen Hiromatsu recently?"

Matsuoka swallowed hard. "No."

"I see," Hayama sighed and sat in the empty chair next to him. "I broke up with Hiromatsu."

Matsuoka gasped involuntarily.

"Or rather, he broke up with me."

"When did that happen?"

"About half a month ago," Hayama tilted her head. It was right after Matsuoka had talked to Hiromatsu in the meeting room.

"I had a feeling it was coming, so I wasn’t too shocked. Though I did cry all night."

"Are you okay with that?"

"There's nothing I can do about it. He explained his reasons, so I don’t have any regrets."

Hayama ran her fingers through her hair. "He said he couldn't forget someone he loved before. She was beautiful and kind, but also very strict. She pointed out things he was self-conscious about, and it made him reflect deeply."

"It's complicated," Hayama sighed. "Love wasn't enough. But if I had more time, I might have understood Hiromatsu better. But that’s just an excuse."

Hayama's phone rang, another invitation from the colleagues who had gone to dinner. She repeated her apologies, saying, "I'm really sorry about tonight."

After the call, Hayama left. Matsuoka stared at his computer for a while, but he couldn’t focus on work, so he shut it down, leaving it unfinished.

As he headed to the station, his thoughts were consumed by Hiromatsu. The meaning behind Hiromatsu just watching him at the station without approaching.

He stopped at the station entrance, hesitating before walking past it. He continued to walk to the next station. There, Hiromatsu was not present, of course.

Not seeing him might have been due to guilt towards Hayama, frustration with Hiromatsu’s indecision, or his own confusion about how to act. A mix of feelings left him bewildered.

But today, he didn’t want to see Hiromatsu’s face. Even knowing he might be waiting, he forced himself not to think about it and walked away.

Despite avoiding him, Matsuoka couldn’t stop thinking about Hiromatsu. He felt sorry if Hiromatsu was waiting but reminded himself it was Hiromatsu’s choice.

As time passed, he became more restless. Neither his phone nor a book could distract him. He muttered, hoping Hiromatsu wasn't foolish enough to wait until the last train. Yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was.

Considering calling Hiromatsu to say he was already home seemed absurd.

At 11:15 PM, unable to stand it anymore, he changed into a fresh shirt and suit, grabbed a briefcase, and left his apartment. Running through the dimly lit streets, he finally reached the station, only to be blocked by a lowering crossing gate. Frustrated, he fidgeted as a long train passed.

When it finally cleared, he saw someone on the other side who hadn’t been there before. Neither he nor the man across the tracks moved even after the gate lifted.

Hiromatsu started walking first, crossing the tracks slowly.

"Good evening."

"Hello," Matsuoka muttered.

"Are you going somewhere?"

Matsuoka couldn’t answer. "What are you doing here, Hiromatsu?"

Unable to respond, he threw the question back. Hiromatsu looked down.

"I didn't see you at the station and got worried."

"Worried?"

"Because there had never been a day when I hadn't been able to see you. I even checked the office, but the lights were off. I thought something might have happened."

The only reason they never missed seeing each other was because Matsuoka made sure to pass the station daily. Hiromatsu seemed oblivious to this.

"I've been thinking about what you said, about what I really want. But I couldn’t find an answer. Every night, I watched you leave, trying to figure it out."

"Tonight," Hiromatsu continued, "you didn’t come. I didn't know why, and I got worried you might have had an accident."

His clumsy explanation was honest.

"Your actions have a huge impact on me. No one makes me hate myself as much as you do. Whether that’s good or bad, I don't know if it's love, but I want to find out."

Matsuoka smiled bitterly. "And if it doesn't work out, you'll just call it off?"

"No," Hiromatsu hurriedly denied.

"It is the same. You said it yourself—you don’t know."

"I think I love you. But I’m not confident in my feelings. I’ve never loved a man before. I was hoping you could help me..."

"Don't joke. Stop relying on others. How could I change you? It's your decision to make."

Under the dim streetlight, Hiromatsu looked pale.

"I’m fed up," Matsuoka spat, turning to leave. Hesitant footsteps followed.

"I'm sorry..."

He didn’t respond.

"I'm truly sorry..."

He shut out the voice in his mind, unwilling to listen to any more.

A shout made him turn instinctively. Hiromatsu had fallen face-first. Torn between leaving and checking on him, he gritted his teeth. Unable to bear it, he picked up Hiromatsu’s bag and approached.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Hiromatsu finally raised his face slowly. As he stood up and took his bag, he grabbed Matsuoka's right hand tightly. Despite pulling back, the grip didn’t loosen. It was like a tug-of-war.

"I fell and hurt my knee. I couldn't fall properly," Hiromatsu murmured.

"I thought if I fell, you might come back."

Matsuoka glared at him. "You did it on purpose?"

"I’ve come to understand you a little," Hiromatsu said, touching Matsuoka's cheek. Matsuoka’s body trembled.

"Please wait just a little longer," Hiromatsu said. "Until I can come to terms with my feelings. Until I can honestly tell you that I love you."

He looked down and fell silent. When Matsuoka tried to move his right hand, Hiromatsu pulled it firmly, preventing him from even bringing it to his face. So he covered his eyes with his left hand.

Matsuoka didn’t want to cry in front of Hiromatsu. He didn't want to be seen with a tear-streaked face, but the tears fell uncontrollably. There was no way to hide or escape. His trembling body and gasping breaths would surely reveal his state.

With every tear that fell, his feelings crumbled. What little strength he had left to maintain his composure weakened, leaving him on the verge of collapse.

"Please," his voice quivered. "Don't take advantage of the fact that I love you..."

The crossing gate lowered, and a train thundered by with a clattering noise. Hiromatsu's apology, "I'm sorry," was drowned out by the sound of the train.

Hurry and tell me you love me, Matsuoka pleaded silently, gripping Hiromatsu's right hand tightly. Tell me you love only me, so much that no one else matters. Save me from these feelings...

But the dense man couldn't understand. He said nothing. Hiromatsu just awkwardly patted Matsuoka's trembling back, clearly at a loss.

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