Utsukushii Koto: Volume 1 - Part 9

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After the four of them had dinner, he made every effort to avoid Hayama. Knowing she was dating Matsuoka made it impossible to see her as just a "good friend" anymore. Just hearing her voice or seeing her smile made him feel increasingly bitter. Confronting the miserable emotion of jealousy head-on was more difficult than he had imagined.

He found himself spending even less time at the office. Often, he wouldn’t return after attending the morning meeting. Walking around outside all day tanned his skin, and he had to get his suit cleaned multiple times due to sweating, which quickly wore out one pair of slacks.

On the last day of July, he was having a late lunch in a crowded fast-food restaurant filled with middle or high school students in casual clothes when he received a call on his smartphone from his boss. He was told to come back to the office before the end of the day because there was something to discuss. He quickly finished his set meal and rushed through his planned client visits for the afternoon.

At 4 PM, he returned to the office feeling somewhat fatigued from rushing around. As soon as he got back, his boss called him over. The boss seemed to be in a good mood, so he didn’t think it would be bad news. As expected, it was a promotion offer. He was informed that his recent performance and prior achievements had been recognized, and it was decided at today’s meeting that he would be promoted to Chief of Sales. He was instructed to keep it quiet until the formal announcement next week.

He was genuinely happy to have his efforts recognized, especially since he had been feeling down recently.

When he returned to his desk and sat down, he was greeted with a "Good job." His whole body tensed up. He turned around and, forcing a smile, responded with a casual "Hey."

"What were you talking about with the boss?"

Lowering his voice, he shrugged and said, "It's a secret." Hayama laughed, saying, "Suspicious."

"By the way, Matsuoka-kun, are you free next Wednesday evening?"

The thought of the four of them going out crossed his mind, so he asked, "Why?"

"We're having a farewell party for Ishii-san. He's been assigned to the new branch office. I thought you might be able to join. I'm organizing it."

Matsuoka muttered, "Oh, I see," and pulled out his planner from his briefcase.

"I think I can make it. I don't have any client meetings, and I'm not that busy right now."

Hayama marked her memo with a pen and, almost as an afterthought, peeked into Matsuoka's planner.

"Wow, your schedule is packed."

"Yeah, I'm popular, you know."

He expected her to laugh, but she only replied, "I see, that sounds tough," which made him feel awkward.

"Oh, you don't have any plans on the weekends."

"Hey, if I worked on my days off, I'd collapse."

As he smiled wryly, Hayama pointed to this Saturday.

"Then, why don't the four of us go to the aquarium on this day?"

The suggestion from an unexpected angle caught him off guard. He couldn’t think of a reason to refuse immediately.

"Well, that day..."

He hesitated, and Hayama leaned in closer.

"Is it inconvenient? But you don’t have any plans, right?"

"Well, that's true, but..."

Sensing Matsuoka's reluctance, Hayama's expression became complex.

"I talked to Mako the other day. She seemed interested in you but was upset because she couldn't talk to you well. If you’re not interested, I won't push, but if you don’t mind, could you meet her again?"

He didn't dislike Fujimoto, but he also didn't feel inclined to reach out on his own. Hayama didn’t know he had feelings for Hiromatsu, but suggesting a friend in the current situation made Matsuoka feel like she was trying to get rid of him quickly.

He scratched his head roughly. He hated this side of himself, this self-loathing.

"Meeting Fujimoto-san is fine, but I’d prefer it to be just the two of us."

Matsuoka's mind briefly flashed back to Hiromatsu.

"Really? You’d be okay with just the two of you?"

Matsuoka replied, "Yeah." Hayama looked relieved.

"I’ll tell Mako that you’d like to meet just the two of you. Matsuoka-kun, make sure you keep this Saturday open."

Hayama repeatedly reminded him to keep Saturday free. Though he agreed to meet Fujimoto alone, his feelings were conflicted. He wasn’t enthusiastic about the situation.

Meeting under these circumstances didn’t seem right, but he reasoned with himself that the possibility of dating her wasn’t zero. Maybe after a few meetings, he might genuinely like her. Fujimoto bore a slight resemblance to the girlfriend he lived with before he fell for Hiromatsu.

Just as Hiromatsu had moved on from Yoko Eto, he needed a reason to move on too.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Upon waking up, the first thing he did was check the date on his digital calendar. August second. Just seeing the words was enough to make sweat bead on his forehead. After enduring the crush of a packed morning commuter train, he arrived at the office wrapped in discomfort, thanks to the fishy body odor of the middle-aged salaryman who had stood in front of him the whole way.

As soon as he set his bag on his desk, Hayama approached and, skipping the usual pleasantries, asked, “Is meeting at ten a.m. on Saturday in front of Shimazu Station okay?” If she had just given him Fujimoto’s social media handle or phone number, he could have reached out himself. But he figured she was trying to be considerate, and so he didn’t say anything.

That was on Thursday. Then, the night before their aquarium date—Friday—he got a call from Hayama. The reason: “Actually, would it be okay if I joined you after all?”

Her tone was apologetic, like she felt bad even bringing it up.

“We’d agreed the two of you would meet alone, but just today she suddenly said, ‘Actually, just the two of us is too much…’ and started whining about it.”

He let out a wry laugh. They’d already met and spoken face-to-face, and still she couldn’t handle being alone with him? That level of shyness was truly something else.

“I told her, ‘That’s ridiculous. It’s rude to Matsuoka-kun,’ and scolded her for it, but she said she just couldn’t do it. So I’m sorry. Just for this time, would you let me tag along as a third wheel? If she seems okay, I’ll head off midway.”

In the end, he agreed to the chaperoned outing. He could see that Hayama was stuck in the middle and trying to be considerate to both sides. He felt sorry for her.

The next day, Matsuoka arrived at the meeting spot ten minutes early. He had come by car, but private vehicles weren’t allowed to park in front of the station, so though it was only for a short time, he pulled into a lot. The sky was blue, and the sun beat down harshly. He stepped into the shade beside a vending machine and took off his glasses to wipe away the fog. He didn’t wear non-prescription glasses at work, but today was a date, and just like last time, he thought he’d try to look cool. He knew this was more like an obligation than a real date, not one he was particularly excited about, and even teased himself—What’s the point of getting all dressed up?—as he laughed quietly alone.

About five minutes after the appointed time, Fujimoto appeared, escorted by Hayama. Last time, she had worn jeans, but today she wide-necked, shirred top, paired with a skirt that reached below her knees. Her makeup was neatly done, bringing out her natural charm. Hayama, walking beside her, wore a navy dress—simple but stylish.

“Hello. Thanks again for the other day,” he greeted, speaking to the downcast Fujimoto. Her voice was barely audible as she replied, “Hello.”

“I’m going to go get the car—would you wait here a sec?”

He started toward the parking lot but was stopped by Hayama.

“Ah, wait a minute.”

She reached out and said, “One more person is coming.”

A bad feeling struck him. “Who?” he asked, but before she could answer, a voice came from behind him.

“Sorry I’m late. I missed my stop and went one station too far…”

He turned—and there stood Hiromatsu. Faded shirt, equally worn cotton pants. Even from the front, he could see the bedhead at the back of his head, sticking up so sharply it looked like a horn.

“I figured, whether it’s three people or four, it’s all the same,” Hayama said. “So I invited Hiromatsu-san too.”

With Hayama’s voice at his back, Matsuoka glared sharply at Hiromatsu. The man, on the receiving end of that glare, awkwardly turned his eyes away. There were countless things he wanted to say—things he wanted to demand—but this wasn’t the time or place to say them. He bit down hard on his lower lip.

If I’d known Hiromatsu was coming, he thought, I would’ve lied and said a parent was sick. I would’ve never come. No way I would’ve come.

“Matsuoka-kun?”

Hayama’s voice brought him back to himself.

“I’ll go get the car then.”

He walked off briskly. Even as he pulled the car out of the lot and neared the station where the three of them waited, part of him—seriously—considered just driving away.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Even if it was only technically called a date, normally it would be expected for the man and woman to sit side by side. And yet, for some reason, it was Hiromatsu who had claimed the passenger seat.

Fujimoto had said, “If I sit next to him, I’ll get too nervous and won’t be able to talk…” and in the end, the two women ended up in the back seats.

Since it wasn’t their first meeting, and both Hayama and Matsuoka made an effort to be considerate, the conversation flowed relatively well. But Hiromatsu said nothing unless Hayama specifically directed a question at him. At first, Matsuoka had wondered if he was holding his tongue because of his presence—but then he saw the tense expression, the way Hiromatsu kept his head lowered and steadfastly avoided looking forward, and remembered: he had once told him he’d gotten into a car accident and hadn’t been able to drive since.

And the moment they got on the expressway, Hiromatsu’s face went past pale and turned visibly green.

“Can we take a break for a bit?”

Matsuoka pulled into a parking area just after entering the expressway. Hayama and Fujimoto went off to the restroom together, and Hiromatsu stepped out of the car and slumped onto a bench in the shade.

Matsuoka approached him, the sound of his footsteps alerting the other man, who slowly lifted his head.

“…Why didn’t you say no?”

Even as he confronted him, Hiromatsu remained silent.

“When Hayama invited you, you must’ve known I was coming too. I told you before, didn’t I? If you wanted to avoid things getting awkward, then use your damn head a little.”

Hiromatsu brought his trembling fingers together near his mouth.

“I knew you two were going out, and that Hayama-san was going to join too. But then this morning, all of a sudden, she contacted me. Said if I came, it would make it easier to split into pairs, and that way you and Fujimoto-san could have time together without pressure…”

He wished he hadn’t heard it. If he hadn’t, he could’ve kept thinking of Hiromatsu as just a thoughtless, insensitive jerk.

“She asked me to… and I couldn’t say no.”

Leaving the man still looking down, Matsuoka returned to the car. He leaned on the steering wheel and shut his eyes.

Even if Hiromatsu had come with the intention of helping things go smoothly between him and Fujimoto, Matsuoka didn’t need that kind of thoughtfulness. It just made him feel empty. That half-hearted sort of kindness—he honestly didn’t know what to do with it.

After a while, Hayama and Fujimoto returned. From the driver’s seat, Matsuoka saw Fujimoto hold out a can of coffee to him.

“Here.”

“Thanks. I was actually pretty thirsty,” he said, accepting it.

But he didn’t open it. His stomach had been upset lately, and he hadn’t had coffee in a long time.

Soon after, Hiromatsu came back as well, though his complexion still looked awful. He smiled faintly when Hayama handed him a can of coffee too, but that was it.

“Alright, let’s get going. This time, Fujimoto-san, why don’t you sit up front?”

Just as she was about to climb into the back, Fujimoto blinked wide-eyed in surprise.

“It’s hard to talk from the back seat. Plus, I think Hiromatsu-san and Hayama have some things they want to discuss.”

Hiromatsu parted his lips, as if he were about to say something—but nothing came out.

“Come sit up here,” Matsuoka said.

Fujimoto looked to Hayama for help, but Hayama only encouraged her with a “Go ahead,” and offered no lifeline.

In the end, Fujimoto sat beside Matsuoka at his firm insistence. He figured that girls like her probably didn’t respond well to too much talking, so he made sure to space out his words and speak just enough to avoid any awkward silence.

He glanced at Hiromatsu through the rearview mirror a few times. His complexion seemed somewhat better than when he’d been in the passenger seat.

About an hour after getting on the expressway, they arrived at the aquarium, which was attached to a small seaside shopping mall. The four of them began walking through the exhibits together. Then, as if it had been planned in advance, they got separated from Hayama and Hiromatsu somewhere along the way. When Fujimoto suggested they look for them, Matsuoka calmed her with, “It’s kinder to give them some time alone. If we need to, we can just contact them by phone,” and they continued on their own.

Sure enough, Hayama and Hiromatsu were waiting near the exit of the aquarium. “Sorry,” Hayama said, offering a flimsy lie, “we got lost partway through.”

By the time they’d seen everything, it was already past noon. The dolphin show that Fujimoto had been most looking forward to wasn’t until 1:30 p.m., so they decided to have lunch beforehand. The shopping mall had a few restaurants, and Hayama stopped in front of an Italian place with stylish décor.

“How about here?”

Matsuoka didn’t care where they ate, as long as it filled his stomach. Hiromatsu gave a vague nod—“Yeah, sure”—but his expression was flat. Come to think of it, he had always preferred Japanese food. Hayama probably didn’t know that. Hiromatsu wasn’t the type to assert himself, and it seemed like the decision was already being made.

“Actually—sorry. I think I kind of want rice or something.”

Matsuoka spoke up, and Hayama immediately pointed to a nearby donburi place. “Then how about Japanese?”

No one voiced a different preference, so they all went in.

At a four-person table, the men and women sat next to each other. Fujimoto was still reserved in her responses to Matsuoka, but when the conversation turned to dolphins, she suddenly became talkative—something new Matsuoka learned about her.

“It's weird to say it now, but... Matsuoka-kun, you’re really handsome,” Hayama murmured in a lull between conversations.

“What the heck? Where’d that come from?” Matsuoka laughed and shrugged.

“I’ve always known it, but it really hit me when we met at the station. I was just thinking, how does someone look that good in nothing but a black T-shirt and jeans? That ring and necklace—are they from Witch, that overseas brand?”

“No, no. I can’t afford anything like that. They’re from one of those stalls by the station. I figured with the new hairstyle, maybe this kind of look would suit me better too.”

He cast a glance at Hiromatsu, but the man sat slightly hunched, a distant expression on his face, not seeming to register the conversation at all.

Matsuoka couldn’t help but be aware of him—of everything he did or didn’t do—but the feeling didn’t seem mutual. What he did sense, clearly, was that Hiromatsu wasn’t enjoying himself. That alone made Matsuoka’s mood sink.

When they were walking outside, Hiromatsu and Hayama were close together—but not holding hands. Back when he and Hiromatsu had been together, Hiromatsu had always eagerly reached for Yoko’s hand.

He basked briefly in that meaningless superiority, but the moment it occurred to him that maybe Hiromatsu wasn’t holding hands out of consideration for him, that pride turned into a sharp pang of misery.

The dolphin show in the afternoon began, and while Fujimoto watched with sparkling eyes, completely enraptured, Matsuoka barely paid attention. The seats around the dolphin pool were crowded with families, and there wasn’t room for all four of them to sit together, so they split into pairs.

In the row just in front of him sat Hayama and Hiromatsu. Rather than the dolphins, Matsuoka found himself staring only at the back of Hiromatsu’s head, still mussed from sleep.

After the show ended, they browsed through the aquarium gift shop. Matsuoka walked around the store with Fujimoto and bought her a dolphin snow globe as a gift. Fujimoto looked extremely apologetic, which caught Matsuoka slightly off guard—he’d thought that kind of gesture was only natural.

Once they finished shopping and went to look for the other two, they found them still browsing the merchandise. Hayama was holding a dolphin-shaped ballpoint pen, hesitating. In the end, she murmured, “It’s a bit childish,” and didn’t buy it. Matsuoka thought Hiromatsu could’ve just bought it for her, but there wasn’t the slightest hint that he would.

Just before they left, Matsuoka said, “Hang on a second,” and left the three of them in the car while he quietly returned to the shop and bought the pen Hayama had wanted.

On the ride back, Fujimoto sat in the front passenger seat. She must have been getting used to him—she finally started to talk about things other than dolphins. As he listened, occasionally giving small responses, Matsuoka gradually noticed how quiet it was in the back. He glanced at the rearview mirror. Hayama was leaning against Hiromatsu’s shoulder, her eyes closed.

It felt like something squeezed his heart tight. A painful sensation spread all the way to his fingertips. His chest trembled. The fragile balance he had managed to hold onto until now felt like it was crumbling beneath him.

“Hey…”

His voice came out louder than intended.

“Mind if we take a quick break?”

He spoke up, then turned off at the next parking area. As soon as the car stopped, Fujimoto asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said flatly, getting out of the car.

He sat on a bench inside the rest area, drinking tea from a vending machine, and muttered, “This sucks.”
Getting dumped—he’d already come to terms with that. The past had been dealt with, they’d both found new partners, and on the surface, it should have been a happy ending. But only the appearance had changed. His heart hadn’t caught up at all.

He told himself it was fine, that seeing them together wouldn’t affect him. But then it hit him out of nowhere, and he shattered easily—pathetically.

“Matsuoka-san.”

He slowly looked up. Hiromatsu was standing in front of him. Hayama was nowhere in sight.

“You must be tired, huh? I’m sorry I made you drive the whole time. I… well…”

“You can’t drive since you hit someone, right? I know.”

Hiromatsu’s face stiffened in an instant. Matsuoka immediately regretted saying something so harsh and apologized.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine…” Hiromatsu murmured.

“I think I can still drive. But suddenly going on the expressway like that… it’s too much for me.”

“It’s fine. I’m not that tired. I don’t hate driving either.”

From behind Hiromatsu, Matsuoka saw Hayama approaching.

“You okay? Mako said you didn’t look so good.”

Matsuoka forced a smile, though he wasn’t sure if it looked convincing.

“I’m fine. Just a little thirsty, that’s all.”

Hayama still looked worried and glanced up at Hiromatsu beside her.

“Hiromatsu-san, you have a license, right? If you don’t mind, could you switch with Matsuoka-kun for a bit? Neither Mako nor I can drive…”

Hiromatsu lowered his gaze and mumbled, “Well…”

“It’s fine, really. I’m not comfortable letting someone else drive my car anyway. It makes me nervous.”

“But…” Hayama started to say.

“I’m thinking we’ll head out in about ten minutes. Can you let Fujimoto-san know and go wait in the car?”

At the mention of Fujimoto’s name, Hayama seemed to remember her and said, “Alright,” before heading back to the car.

“Hiromatsu-san, you should go too.”

Even with the prompting, the man didn’t move.

“But…”

“When I’m not feeling well, I don’t want to have to think about other people. Just let me be alone for a little while, okay?”

Only after Matsuoka said that did Hiromatsu finally walk away.

After leaving the parking area, perhaps out of concern for Matsuoka, everyone grew quiet. The heavy atmosphere felt oppressive, so he deliberately tried to keep the conversation going. He didn’t have the luxury of sitting there stewing in emotions like not wanting to look at the two people in the back seat or feeling miserable.

They arrived back at the station where the four of them had originally met just before 5 p.m. Since they had planned to part ways there, Matsuoka pulled the car over along the curb where stopping was technically prohibited.

“Here, this is for you.”

As they were saying goodbye, Matsuoka handed a small bag to Fujimoto in the passenger seat.

“Open it.”

Just as he said, Fujimoto opened the bag. Her expression lit up instantly as she took out the dolphin-themed ballpoint pen with delight.

“It might be a little childish,” he added.

But Fujimoto shook her head.

“I love it. Thank you so much.”

Hayama said, “That’s so nice,” and looked at the pen with a hint of envy. Matsuoka glanced at Hiromatsu, but as always, the clueless man showed no signs of realizing what had happened.

Until he parted from the other three, Matsuoka kept smiling. But the moment the car started moving and they disappeared from view, that smile vanished, and a heavy fatigue-like weight took hold of his entire body.

That feeling didn’t lift even after he got home. He didn’t feel like doing anything. He didn’t even turn on the air conditioner—he just sat on the floor.

He shouldn’t have given the ballpoint pen to Fujimoto right in front of Hiromatsu, especially knowing that Hayama had wanted it. That small, petty move only exposed his own mean streak. He hadn’t planned from the beginning to make Hayama envious or to diminish Hiromatsu’s image as an inconsiderate boyfriend.

A man who couldn’t even be bothered to buy something as simple as a pen for the person he was dating—
Matsuoka had thought he would give it to him, and in doing so subtly suggest to Hiromatsu to give it to Hayama. That had been his way of trying to teach him the basics of being a good partner. But halfway through, he lost that composure altogether.

He hated the way he thought. The way he acted. If he stayed like this, he’d only grow more bitter—and in the end, he’d probably come to hate himself.

He didn’t want to see Hiromatsu anymore. Didn’t even want to look at his face.

When he suddenly heard the chime of a message notification, for no logical reason he immediately thought it was from Hiromatsu. It has to be, he told himself, rushing for his phone.

The sender was Fujimoto.

“I had a really lovely time today. Thank you so much.”

He read the message, then immediately shut off his phone—and left it untouched for the rest of the night.

The next morning, he nervously turned it back on.

No new messages.

No missed calls.

No sign of anything.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The next day, Matsuoka sent a message to Fujimoto. He lied and said he had fallen asleep right after getting home the day before and hadn’t noticed her message. He didn’t forget to add, “Next time, let’s meet just the two of us.”

On Monday, when he got to the office, Hayama approached him with a cheerful face.

“Sorry about Saturday. You must’ve been tired, huh?”

He forced a smile, trying not to dwell on the discomfort inside him. “I’m fine,” he replied.

“After you dropped us off at the station, I went out to eat with Mako. She said she had a really good time.”

“I see.”

Even hearing that Fujimoto had enjoyed herself didn’t stir anything in him. His feelings stayed flat, unmoved. That unbending emotional response irritated him—he irritated himself. Matsuoka turned away and pretended to check the clock on the wall.

“I’ve got to start getting ready to head out for my appointments.”

Just as he tried to end the conversation, Hayama said, “Oh, Hiromatsu-san—” The moment she said his name, his entire body twitched.

“What about him?”

When he asked, Hayama shook her head.

“It’s nothing. It’s not that important. You’re busy, right?”

“That kind of thing makes me more curious. Just tell me.”

“Really, it’s nothing big,” she began, then continued.

“Hiromatsu-san was asking me a bunch of stuff about you—like your personality and all that. You two knew each other from before, right?”

A sheen of sweat spread across his palms. His heart started to race.

“We just ran into each other now and then, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Hayama murmured.

“Hiromatsu-san isn’t usually much of a talker, you know? So when he showed so much interest in you, I was like, ‘Why is that?’”

He was asking about me—Did that mean he still cared, even a little?

“He doesn’t talk that much?”

Back when they were together—when Matsuoka was still Yoko Eto—Hiromatsu had spoken to him often. He wasn’t exactly chatty, but he’d never come off as someone who didn’t talk.

“He’s quiet. Kind, but dense. I like that about him, but… sometimes it’s frustrating. We’re dating, but honestly, I’m still not sure what he really feels.”

With a sigh, Hayama ran her fingers through her bangs.

“Matsuoka-kun, are you free tonight?”

“Tonight?”

“There’s a lot I want to talk to you about—including Mako.”

Something in his chest whispered that this was a bad idea. He didn’t think he could listen to Hayama talk about Hiromatsu without feeling anything. He would get jealous. Ugly emotions would rise up. He’d fall into self-loathing again—just like Saturday night.

“…Alright. Sure.”

She said she wanted to talk about Fujimoto, he told himself as an excuse. But the real reason was that Hiromatsu had asked about him. He couldn’t resist the urge to know why.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

At 7 PM, after finishing his rounds, Matsuoka met Hayama at the station. They went to a nearby Western-style izakaya, where they ate and had a few drinks.

As he made his rounds earlier, Matsuoka had thought about things and decided not to bring up the topic of Hiromatsu himself. After all, they likely wouldn't see each other again, so asking about him would only be self-destructive. However, despite his intentions, once Hayama started drinking, she began talking about Hiromatsu without any prompting.

“Researchers are kind of quirky, you know? They’re not very considerate or friendly. Even before they properly handed over the administrative work, they were already bringing me receipts and invoices, complaining that I was slow at processing them even though they knew I was still new to the job. When I sent the invoices to the main office, they would call and complain that the costs were too high. I used to go home and cry every night at first. Hiromatsu-san was the one who comforted me during those times. Even when I made a mistake, he apologized to my boss on my behalf, even though it wasn’t his responsibility. I started to think he was a really kind person, and before I knew it, I had fallen for him.”

Hayama rested her chin on her hand, looking down.

“He’s so oblivious, though. I thought I was being obvious about my feelings, but he didn’t notice at all. So I ended up asking him to date me. He was really surprised.”

Matsuoka felt a small sense of relief knowing that Hiromatsu hadn’t initiated the relationship. But then, Hayama looked at him seriously and asked, “Matsuoka-kun, what do you think? Do you think Hiromatsu-san likes me?”

Matsuoka had no idea how to respond. Sensing his confusion, Hayama quickly apologized, “Sorry, that was a weird question.”

“It’s just that I really like him, but I’ve been wondering how he feels about me,” she added.

“Did something happen?” Matsuoka asked.

Hayama gave a faint smile and looked down again. “When I confessed to him, he asked for some time to think about it. He told me he didn’t have anyone he liked or was seeing, so the fact that he needed to think about it means he hadn’t really considered me that way, right?”

Matsuoka couldn’t help but compare it to his own experience. When he was dating Hiromatsu as Yoko Eto, Hiromatsu had been more proactive, sending multiple love declarations that were almost embarrassingly passionate.

He felt a fleeting sense of superiority. He liked me more, loved me more, Matsuoka thought. But then reality hit him. The rejection that had followed a declaration of love, the darkness that settled over him as he recalled it. He was so lost in these thoughts that he didn’t notice Hayama had fallen silent.

“Maybe I’m not that attractive…” Hayama whispered, her voice on the verge of tears.

“What? What’s wrong?” Matsuoka asked in a panic, just as a tear slipped down Hayama’s cheek.

“We’ve been dating for almost two months, and we still haven’t kissed. At first, I thought he was just shy…” she trailed off, tears streaming down her face. Despite her crying, Matsuoka couldn’t stop the feeling of relief that washed over him when he learned they hadn’t kissed. It felt like Hiromatsu was still his.

“I just want him to like me more. I want him to love me as much as I love him,” Hayama said, wiping her tears with her fingertips. “I’ve been trying. On weekends, I go to his place, help with cleaning, cook meals… I’ve been trying to show him I can be a good partner, but it doesn’t seem to click with him.”

Suddenly, as if realizing something, Hayama looked up in a panic. “Maybe he doesn’t like having someone in his space. But even then, he always thanks me for helping. Matsuoka-kun, what would you think? Would you find that annoying?”

Matsuoka could only respond with a vague, “It depends on the person.” He had never even made himself tea when visiting Hiromatsu’s apartment, nor had he ever felt the need to.

“Sorry for talking so much about myself,” Hayama said apologetically. “But the other day, when I was talking to Mako, we got excited about the idea of the four of us going camping together.”

Matsuoka forced a smile at the mention of “the four of us.”

“Camping with everyone sounds fun, but I was hoping to spend time with Fujimoto-san alone soon,” Matsuoka admitted.

Hayama nodded in agreement. “That makes sense. You’ve been really patient. I’ve been telling her you’re a good person and that she should meet with you alone, but she’s still scared. I tried to tell her that it’s a bit childish to still be so nervous around men, especially since you’re not strangers.”

She bowed her head. “Sorry about this. Let’s make the next camping trip the last time we all hang out together. I’ll make sure the two of you can meet alone next time.”

Matsuoka couldn’t say no, even though the thought of going camping made him uneasy. And if he refused, it would seem like he was openly avoiding the idea of being with the group.

After that, it became harder to discuss Fujimoto, and as the conversation died down, Hayama, who seemed to have sobered up, suggested they head home.

Matsuoka had hoped the camping trip would quietly fade away, but Hayama was serious about it. She quickly arranged a location and asked if he was free next Saturday.

“Summer vacation season is really busy, so I thought all the campsites would be booked, but my relatives at Oishi Campground told me they had a cancellation, and two cottages are available next Saturday. I went ahead and reserved them, and Hiromatsu-san and Mako have already agreed. What about you, Matsuoka-kun? Can you make it?”

Matsuoka felt a surge of panic upon hearing the word “reserved.” He didn’t have plans for the weekend, but he didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to see Hiromatsu. But he couldn’t ask Hayama to cancel the cottages she had worked so hard to book. After all, it was partly his fault for not clearly refusing when she first suggested the camping trip.

In the end, Matsuoka said, “I can go.” The moment he said it, he regretted it deeply. I don’t want to go. I don’t want to see Hiromatsu and Hayama acting all lovey-dovey at the campground.

He considered backing out several times, but each time, he couldn’t bring himself to disappoint Hayama, who was excitedly talking about the trip. The thought of the upcoming camping trip became a source of stress, and as the day approached, just seeing Hayama made his stomach ache.

The night before the trip, Matsuoka spent three hours sitting with his phone in front of him, caught in restless agony. The right moment to back out had come and gone countless times.

His indecision spun like a treadmill, looping over the same spot. If he had truly, deeply hated the idea—hated it so much he felt sick—he probably would have picked up the phone and called to cancel. But that wasn’t the only reason he hesitated. Part of him didn’t want to see Hiromatsu, yet he also knew that without some excuse like this trip, he might never get to see him again. I don’t want to see him. I really don’t… and yet, some part of me wants to.

There was a contradiction gnawing inside him. The stress had grown so intense it was making him physically ill, and even he didn’t fully understand himself anymore.

I wonder what Hiromatsu thinks about all this. The thought suddenly arose. Doesn’t he hate this too? Or is he just going along with it for Hayama’s sake, because she’s his girlfriend’s friend or something?

That restless curiosity ballooned into a need. Matsuoka reached for his phone and started to call, but paused with his finger hovering above the button. What am I going to do if I find out how he really feels?

If Hiromatsu said he didn’t want to go, that would be his cue to cancel. That’s what Matsuoka was really hoping for. He hit the call button, biting hard into his lower lip, eyes squeezed shut. After seven rings, the line finally connected—but the voice that answered wasn’t a man’s.

“Um… is this Hiromatsu-san?”

Who’s this? a woman replied.

“Sorry. I must’ve dialed the wrong number—”

Wait, is this Matsuoka-kun? the woman cut in.

The way she spoke rang a bell. Hayama.

Hiromatsu-san can’t come to the phone right now, but is something wrong?

Matsuoka hadn’t expected this, and faltered. “Uh… it’s not really anything serious. I just… about tomorrow. You mentioned we’d be cooking outdoors, right? I was just wondering about the charcoal. I thought maybe it was the kind of thing the guys should handle, you know…”

He scrambled to make up a reason.

Oh, sorry! I totally forgot to tell you—we’ve already got the charcoal. We bought it when we rented the barbecue set.

“I see.”

He didn’t have anything else to say. From the background, he could hear Hiromatsu ask, Who is it?

Sorry for answering your phone. It’s Matsuoka-kun—he was just asking about the charcoal for tomorrow’s barbecue…

Then Hayama turned back to the phone. Matsuoka-kun, was there anything else?

“Not really.”

Okay, then. See you tomorrow.

Once she said see you tomorrow, there wasn’t anything left to say. He hung up. The clock on his phone read 11:00 p.m. Hayama would be heading home now, or… maybe she was staying the night. The thought crossed his mind, but he forced himself to stop there. Thinking any further would only make it hurt worse.

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