Utsukushii Koto: Volume 2 - Part 3

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The next thing he knew, a loud, annoying noise was grating at his ears. He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the blanket over his head, but the noise wouldn’t stop. With a resigned sigh, he sat up and searched for the source of the sound. It was an alarm clock on the table. He fumbled with it, not knowing how to turn it off, until the sound finally ceased.

Looking around the unfamiliar room, Hiromatsu slowly recalled where he was. At the foot of the sofa where he had been sleeping, Matsuoka was curled up under a blanket. He wondered why Matsuoka was there, and then the memory of visiting him the night before, eating cake, and drinking wine came back to him. But everything after the cake was a blur, the details foggy and unclear.

It was just before 6 a.m., according to the clock. The first train of the day would be running by now.

"Matsuoka," Hiromatsu called softly, but there was no response. He tried again, but Matsuoka remained unresponsive. It reminded him of when he used to wake Matsuoka up every morning with a phone call during their time together when Matsuoka had been pretending to be "Yoko Eto." The memory was bittersweet.

"Wake up, Matsuoka," he said, gently shaking Matsuoka’s shoulder. Finally, Matsuoka’s eyelids fluttered, and he slowly opened his eyes.

"Oh... good morning," Matsuoka murmured sleepily.

"I’m heading home now," Hiromatsu said.

Matsuoka rubbed his eyes like a child and glanced at the clock on the wall.

"Oh... You’ll still have time to get home and change before work," Matsuoka noted, possibly having set the alarm so that Hiromatsu would have enough time to get back to his apartment. Matsuoka was always considerate like that.

"Sorry about last night. I guess I got a bit drunk on my own," Hiromatsu said with a sheepish smile.

"Don't worry about it. I had fun," Matsuoka replied, his sleepy face breaking into a soft, relaxed smile.

"Fun?" Hiromatsu echoed, still a bit disoriented as Matsuoka sat up, stretching.

"Yeah, turning thirty and spending my first night as a thirty-year-old... it was a bit of a whirlwind at the end. Suddenly getting your email, rushing back here, eating cake... all of it," Matsuoka said, chuckling as if he remembered something amusing.

"You were talking in your sleep, you know," Matsuoka teased.

"What? What did I say?" Hiromatsu asked, his curiosity piqued.

"It was pretty funny, so I’m keeping it a secret," Matsuoka said with a mischievous grin, shrugging playfully. The way Matsuoka smiled reminded Hiromatsu of Yoko Eto, and his heart skipped a beat. Although Matsuoka’s hair and clothes were completely different now, little moments like this brought back the memory of Yoko Eto.

"Come on, tell me. Now I really want to know," Hiromatsu pleaded, feeling a mix of frustration and intrigue.

"It’s nothing major. But, you know, let’s just say it’s my little secret," Matsuoka said with a smirk, refusing to elaborate.

"That just makes me even more curious," Hiromatsu said, feeling more and more desperate for an answer, but Matsuoka just laughed.

"Hey, you should head back now if you want time to get changed before work," Matsuoka suggested. Though Hiromatsu still felt uneasy, he accepted his coat from Matsuoka. The coat wasn’t wrinkled at all, likely because Matsuoka had hung it up for him.

"Thanks for last night. Let’s grab dinner again sometime," Matsuoka said, walking Hiromatsu to the door. As Hiromatsu bent down to tie his shoelaces, Matsuoka spoke from above him.

"This reminds me of the time when it was the other way around," Matsuoka said with a hint of nostalgia.

"Really?" Hiromatsu asked, not quite following.

"Yeah, back when I was still dressing as a woman. On your birthday, we spent the night together at your place. I’ve been thinking about that this whole time," Matsuoka explained.

The memory was bittersweet for Hiromatsu. He remembered how much he had loved Yoko Eto back then, how he had spent the entire night holding her. The situation might be similar, but his feelings were completely different. Even though it was the same person, he couldn’t feel the same happiness he had felt back then.

"Well, see you," Hiromatsu said with a small nod before stepping out of the apartment. The cold air hit his face like a slap, waking him up fully. The moment the door closed behind him, his thoughts shifted. There was no lingering warmth from the time spent at Matsuoka’s place—he was only concerned about whether he’d have enough time to take a shower before work.

"Hiromatsu, wait a second," Matsuoka called from above as Hiromatsu was about to leave the building. He looked up to see Matsuoka leaning over the railing on the fifth floor.

"I’ll be right down," Matsuoka said.

Hiromatsu paused, wondering what was going on. In less than a minute, Matsuoka came running out of the building.

"Glad I caught you. I found this in the room—it's yours, right?" Matsuoka said, holding out a small brown paper bag. It was the bag Hiromatsu had left in his coat pocket, which must have fallen out somehow.

"Keep it," Hiromatsu said, and Matsuoka tilted his head in confusion.

"Wait, on second thought, give it back," Hiromatsu said, reaching for the bag. But even as he took it back, he knew he had no use for it. The item inside wasn’t something he would ever use. With a resigned sigh, Hiromatsu handed the bag back to Matsuoka, who looked puzzled.

"It’s a strap. I bought it for you... if you want it," Hiromatsu said.

"A strap?" Matsuoka repeated.

"I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so it’s just something cheap. If you don’t like it, you can toss it," Hiromatsu explained. Matsuoka’s face lit up, and his expression brightened considerably.

"You bought this for me?" Matsuoka asked, sounding genuinely pleased.

"It’s really not much," Hiromatsu muttered, feeling embarrassed.

Matsuoka carefully opened the bag, his face lighting up even more as he pulled out the strap. It made a soft clinking sound as it fell into his hand. Though it had seemed decently stylish the night before, in the harsh light of day, the strap looked cheap and unimpressive.

"Oh, this is cool. I really like it," Matsuoka said, clearly delighted. Despite Matsuoka’s enthusiasm, Hiromatsu couldn’t shake the feeling that Matsuoka was just being polite, which only made him feel worse.

"I should get going," Hiromatsu said, eager to leave.

"Thanks, Hiromatsu. See you soon," Matsuoka said with a wave as Hiromatsu walked away without looking back. As he replayed Matsuoka’s happy expression in his mind, he was plagued by regrets—he wished he had bought a better gift, or perhaps not given the childish strap at all.

On the train, he found a seat opposite a man who was either commuting to work or heading home after a long night. As Hiromatsu stared at the man’s half-open mouth, he recalled Matsuoka mentioning his sleep-talking. If Matsuoka had heard him, that meant he had been awake for at least part of the night, probably watching Hiromatsu as he slept off his drunkenness. The thought made Hiromatsu feel a bit awkward.

He remembered how he had once kept Yoko Eto close all night, holding her fragile, beautiful body in his arms, feeling too happy to sleep. Maybe Matsuoka had felt the same way last night...

The memory of that happiness was bittersweet, and it made his chest ache. Yoko Eto and Matsuoka were the same person, yet Hiromatsu couldn’t reconcile the man with stubble on his chin with the goddess-like woman he had once worshipped. Maybe he didn’t want to.

It wasn’t that he disliked Matsuoka as a man—he understood and appreciated Matsuoka’s genuine affection. There were even moments when he found Matsuoka’s earnestness endearing. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t summon the same passion he had once felt for Yoko Eto.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Despite the lingering unease Hiromatsu felt toward Matsuoka, he would still accept his invitations for meals. He disliked lying to avoid them, and as long as work didn’t come up, he could almost forget about the awkward dynamics between them.

Hiromatsu had started job hunting and took some time off during the week for interviews with companies he had shortlisted. He was honest about his situation, so the office manager didn’t react negatively and allowed him to have a flexible work schedule. However, since he compensated for his time off with weekend shifts, he found himself declining most of Matsuoka’s invitations on Saturdays and Sundays.

Unfortunately, every company Hiromatsu applied to turned him down. His lack of qualifications and the fact that he was in his mid-thirties worked against him. He heard the phrase "If only you were in your twenties..." so often that it felt like a broken record.

One day, while at work, Hiromatsu received a call from one of the companies he had interviewed with. Normally, he didn’t mix personal matters with work and avoided personal calls or emails during office hours, but this time he made an exception. He grabbed his phone and hurried into the hallway. The result was another rejection. This one hit particularly hard because it was the position he had felt most confident about. The rest of the workday was a struggle as he couldn’t focus.

When he returned to his apartment in a gloomy mood, he found a letter waiting for him. The envelope bore a beautifully printed stamp with the kanji for “congratulations” on it. The sender was Shimizu, his childhood friend from elementary school, inviting him to a wedding. Hiromatsu remembered that during New Year’s this year, Shimizu had mentioned proposing to his girlfriend.

Inside was a greeting card that read, "I'm getting married. How about you?" Hiromatsu had talked about Yoko Eto the previous year during their New Year's meeting, telling Shimizu that she was incredibly beautiful and that he was considering marriage. At the time, Shimizu, who didn’t have a girlfriend, had expressed envy. Now, a year later, Shimizu was getting married, while Hiromatsu’s life was a mess. It was an irony that wasn’t lost on him.

The day after receiving the invitation, Hiromatsu received a call from his older brother in the late afternoon. It was a thank-you call, as the much-anticipated baby gift Hiromatsu had sent had finally arrived. As they talked, the conversation naturally shifted to the topic of Shimizu's upcoming wedding.

“Remember Shimizu, the guy you were close with? I heard he’s getting married soon,” his brother said.

“Yeah, I got the invitation,” Hiromatsu replied as he walked from the bus stop to his apartment.

“You know, last New Year’s you told me you were thinking about getting married to your girlfriend.”

“I told you, she broke up with me,” Hiromatsu replied, feeling weary of the subject that had already been brought up too many times.

“Are you seeing anyone now?” his brother asked.

“No. It’s not like you can just find someone new right away,” Hiromatsu answered, his tone turning impatient. Sensing Hiromatsu’s irritation, his brother paused before saying, “Maybe your standards are too high?”

“They’re not,” Hiromatsu shot back.

“But you did say your last girlfriend was a beauty. They say you get tired of a pretty face after three days. Maybe someone with a decent face and a good personality would be better.”

“Yes, she was beautiful, but I didn’t just like her for her looks,” Hiromatsu said. It wasn’t just her beauty—Yoko was like a cat, capricious yet kind, opinionated yet willing to speak her mind. She was a person who combined gentleness with a certain toughness.

As he recalled her smile, Matsuoka’s face unexpectedly overlapped with Yoko’s in his mind, causing his heart to skip a beat. He had recently glimpsed a trace of Yoko Eto in Matsuoka’s smile. Maybe “trace” wasn’t the right word. After all, Yoko Eto and Matsuoka were the same person.

A troubling question crossed Hiromatsu’s mind. If he hadn’t been drawn to Yoko’s beauty alone, if it was her heart that captivated him, why couldn’t he see Matsuoka as a romantic partner? The answer was one he had arrived at countless times: it was because Matsuoka was a man.

“So, are you planning to stay single forever?” His brother’s question snapped Hiromatsu back to reality.

“I’m not planning on it,” Hiromatsu replied.

“If you’re going to get married, it’s better to do it sooner. I don’t want to sound like Dad, but if you have kids after forty, you’ll be hitting retirement before they’re grown.”

The words stung.

“I know that,” Hiromatsu said quietly.

“If you want to stay single, that’s fine as long as you have a solid foundation and save for retirement. But it’s a choice you’ll have to live with.”

After his brother hung up, Hiromatsu was left with a heavy heart. Being told to have a stable life and save for the future while facing the threat of unemployment felt like a cruel twist of the knife.

Back in his apartment, his mood only darkened further. He thought about going out to buy some alcohol when he received a text from Matsuoka, inviting him out to dinner since he had finished work early. Not wanting to be alone with his swirling thoughts and craving a drink, Hiromatsu replied, “I’ll go.”

When he arrived at the meeting place, Matsuoka was already there, standing off to the side of the ticket counter, engrossed in his phone. The silver phone dangled the cheap strap Hiromatsu had given him, which made Hiromatsu feel a pang of guilt.

That night, Matsuoka suggested a quieter restaurant instead of their usual izakaya. The prices were a bit higher, but the seats were well-partitioned, making it a peaceful place to eat without the annoyance of other people’s conversations.

“Did something bad happen?” Matsuoka asked. Hiromatsu, who had been absentmindedly picking at his food, looked up. Matsuoka must have noticed that his replies had been distant and unfocused.

“Not really,” Hiromatsu replied.

“Okay... It’s just that you seem down,” Matsuoka said, clearly unconvinced. Although Hiromatsu tried to deny it, the conversation with his brother continued to weigh on his mind. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to get married—he just didn’t have anyone he wanted to marry.

“By the way, you’ve been working a lot on your days off lately, haven’t you?” Matsuoka asked. The weekend shifts were to make up for the time off Hiromatsu had taken for job interviews. But each rejection left him more exhausted, both physically and mentally. With every rejection, his self-esteem took a hit, leaving him feeling increasingly inadequate.

“We’ve been short-staffed, so it’s been busy,” Hiromatsu lied, not wanting to reveal the truth.

“I know this might be a bad time to ask, but... do you have any plans for next weekend?”

After the most recent rejection, Hiromatsu had stopped applying for jobs, so his schedule was free.

“Why?”

“Would you be interested in going to a hot spring?” Matsuoka asked, looking up at him hopefully. Hiromatsu tilted his head in surprise.

“There’s a hot spring I’ve been wanting to visit for a while. It’s about a three-hour drive from here. We could stay overnight and relax, or just go for the day if you’d prefer. I’ll drive either way,” Matsuoka explained.

The idea of a hot spring was appealing. Hiromatsu loved soaking in large baths. He wanted nothing more than to forget about his job troubles and his brother’s pressure, even if just for a little while. The only thing that made him hesitant was the idea of spending the night with Matsuoka. He wondered if Matsuoka had any expectations. But Matsuoka had said they could just go for the day, so maybe there wasn’t any ulterior motive.

As Hiromatsu pondered, Matsuoka tentatively added, “If you’re uncomfortable, we can use the baths at different times.”

The fact that Matsuoka was considerate enough to suggest not bathing together made Hiromatsu realize that he wasn’t likely to be pressured into anything. Without that concern, a short trip to a hot spring seemed like a good way to clear his mind.

“Maybe that would be nice for a change,” Hiromatsu finally said.

“Really?” Matsuoka’s eyes lit up like a child’s before a field trip.

“So, should we stay overnight or just go for the day?”

“Either is fine.”

“Is staying overnight okay?” Matsuoka asked eagerly.

“Sure.”

“Great!” Matsuoka said, clenching his fist in a gesture of victory.

“I’ve already checked out a few inns. They all have amazing dinners, so I think we should stay overnight. I’ll take care of the reservations,” Matsuoka said, excitedly discussing the different inns he had researched. “The top choice has an open-air bath, and the second choice offers Tajima beef shabu-shabu and has spacious rooms. It’s hard to choose,” he said, clearly thrilled by the prospect.

Hiromatsu couldn’t quite match Matsuoka’s enthusiasm. He was looking forward to the hot spring, but not as much as Matsuoka seemed to be.

Why is he so happy? Hiromatsu wondered. Could it really be because they were going together? Matsuoka was popular and had previously dated women. It wasn’t as if he couldn’t find a female partner. So why had he chosen Hiromatsu, a dull and unremarkable man facing unemployment?

Hiromatsu silently questioned his worth, feeling the weight of his insecurities pressing down on him.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

At the Koishikawa Research Institute, the administrative staff consisted of only four people, including the office manager. Although the full staff was supposed to be five, one person had been on long-term medical leave, so they had been working with one fewer person for some time. Then, just as March began, one of the staff members fractured her back in a snowboarding accident and was hospitalized. With the office already stretched thin, losing one person was a significant blow. To make matters worse, just two days later, another staff member requested medical leave. She had been diagnosed with early-stage cancer and was advised to undergo surgery as soon as possible, which had a high chance of a complete cure. The surgery and recovery were expected to take about three weeks, but it coincided with the end of the fiscal year. Losing two people during such a critical time was beyond a disaster for the office—it was a complete shutdown. However, since it was a matter of life and death, the office manager couldn’t ask her to wait until April.

This situation meant that Hiromatsu had to put his job search on hold. The end of the fiscal year was fast approaching, and the workload was piling up. The office manager was desperately trying to keep up with the paperwork, but it seemed like the more they worked, the more there was to do. Just when Hiromatsu thought they were doomed, a miracle happened—headquarters sent over temporary help to assist until the end of the fiscal year. The helper was none other than Hayama.

Hayama had also been dispatched to the Koishikawa Research Institute last year as a temporary replacement. It seemed that the HR department had at least tried to consider their situation by sending someone with experience to fill in the gaps left by the two missing staff members.

Although Hiromatsu no longer had romantic feelings for Hayama, they had once been in a relationship. Working together again meant spending long hours together, unlike the brief chats they’d had when they ran into each other on the street. Hiromatsu had worried that things might be awkward, but his fears were unfounded. Hayama seemed completely unfazed by their past, almost as if she didn’t even think of him in that way anymore. It seemed that women could move on from past relationships more decisively than men.

On Hayama's second day at the institute, the office manager left early, citing some personal matter, and Hiromatsu and Hayama were left to finish up. Hiromatsu thought they might be able to leave before 9 p.m. for once, but suddenly, Hayama, who was sitting at the desk next to his, exclaimed, “Ugh, I’ve had enough!” Startled, Hiromatsu turned to look at her.

“Oh… sorry,” Hayama said, her face turning red as she looked down.

“I keep making these stupid typos, and I can’t seem to finish my work.”

Hiromatsu also felt overwhelmed by the endless paperwork and miscellaneous tasks, but he had accepted that this was just how things were. However, for Hayama, who had been suddenly transferred from headquarters, it was understandable that she would be frustrated with the twelve-hour workdays. She had likely been thinking, “Why me?” or “I drew the short straw.”

Hiromatsu glanced at his watch. It was a little past 7 p.m.

“Hayama-san, why don’t you call it a day? I can finish up the rest on my own. It shouldn’t take much longer,” Hiromatsu suggested, knowing full well that it might stretch to 10 p.m.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about me,” Hayama replied with a small smile.

“You haven’t changed at all, have you, Hiromatsu-san?”

“Haven’t changed?”

“That’s just how you are,” she said, not specifying what she meant, but the two of them shared a smile. In the end, they both stayed until 8:30 p.m. to finish the work, and then decided to grab a bite to eat together in the city, taking a taxi there.

Hayama knew of an Italian restaurant that stayed open late, so they went there. Although Hiromatsu generally preferred light Japanese cuisine, he had to admit that the pasta at this place, with its strong garlic flavor, was delicious.

“Back at headquarters, if we’re not busy, work is done by 6 p.m. I had signed up for cooking classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but then they told me to come here just a month before I was supposed to quit. I thought I’d be able to relax, but instead, I’ve been thrown into this whirlwind,” Hayama said with a sigh of frustration.

“I really am sorry, Hayama-san,” Hiromatsu said, feeling guilty.

“There’s no need to apologize. It’s not your fault, Hiromatsu-san. But I suppose the situation has had some effect—our office manager seems to be working harder than before,” Hayama said, and Hiromatsu couldn’t help but laugh. It was true, but it also highlighted how the manager only got serious when pushed to the edge.

As they vented about work, the drinks kept coming, and as they drank, Hiromatsu felt a mix of slight tension from being in the company of a woman and a strange sense of camaraderie from sharing the same hardships.

“By the way, I heard you’ve been having dinner with Matsuoka-kun pretty often,” Hayama said.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Hiromatsu replied curtly, not wanting to delve into that topic.

“Maybe Matsuoka-kun wants to be comforted by you,” Hayama said, using an unexpected word.

“Comforted?”

“Yes, because you’re such a calming presence, Hiromatsu-san,” she replied.

“I don’t really see myself that way,” Hiromatsu said.

“I’m sure that’s how he sees you,” she insisted. As their desserts were brought out, Hayama’s face lit up at the sight of the beautifully arranged plate. They had ordered different set menus, so their desserts were also different. Noticing Hayama glance at his dessert, Hiromatsu offered his plate.

“Oh, no, it’s okay. I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, shaking her head hastily.

“I’m not really a fan of sweets, so go ahead,” he said, pushing the plate toward her. She blushed slightly and murmured a small, “Thank you,” before digging in. She was so adorable with her cheeks flushed.

“I must seem like such a glutton,” she said, but she didn’t stop savoring the dessert Hiromatsu had given her. After a few bites, she looked up again.

“Speaking of Matsuoka-kun, has he ever talked to you about having a girlfriend?” she asked.

Hiromatsu swallowed nervously. “Does he?”

“It seems like he might. I used to ask him if he was seeing anyone, but he always dodged the question. Then, just the other day, I noticed he was playing with a new phone strap and asked him who gave it to him. He said it was from someone he likes,” Hayama explained.

Hiromatsu felt his shoulders relax. He had briefly worried that Matsuoka might have found someone else to focus his affections on, but deep down, he knew that wasn’t possible. Matsuoka had been so unwavering in his feelings for him that there was no way he could be interested in someone else.

“He’s been in love with this person for a long time, but he won’t tell me who it is. Remember Mako? The girl we went camping with last summer? Apparently, Matsuoka-kun told her that even though she confessed to him, he couldn’t date her because he was in love with someone else. You said something similar to me. Didn’t you tell me that you couldn’t forget the person you used to date?” Hayama asked.

“Sorry about that,” Hiromatsu apologized reflexively, but Hayama quickly added, “I’m not blaming you.”

“It’s just that some things can’t be helped. If you can’t forget someone, it’s not something you can control. But I’m glad it worked out for Matsuoka-kun… How about you, Hiromatsu-san?”

“Me?”

“Last time we talked at the department store, you mentioned that things were complicated. Did anything change?”

Hiromatsu wasn’t sure how to describe his current situation. If he had to force it into words…

“It feels like I’m stuck in an unrequited love,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“I know they’re the same person I used to love, but something feels off. The image I had of them before is too strong, and I feel this sense of disconnect. Even when we’re together, I feel like my emotions are cold. I mean, only in the context of romance,” Hiromatsu explained.

“I’m not sure I follow,” Hayama said, tilting her head.

“I’m not sure I can explain it well,” Hiromatsu said with a wry smile.

“But they’re the same person you used to love, right?”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t really know,” Hiromatsu said. But he did know. He knew all too well. Matsuoka was kind and had a good personality, but… he was a man. That was the problem.

Hayama seemed to ponder this for a moment before she slowly began to speak again.

"Hiromatsu-san, do you think you might have had too idealized an image of the person you're talking about?"

"Idealized?"

"You’re saying it feels different even though they’re the same person, right? Then maybe it’s not them who changed—but how you’re seeing them."

How I’m seeing them… The ideal. The fantasy. He had been absurdly obsessed with Yoko Eto, and he knew it. He’d told himself it wasn’t the appearance that drew him in, and yet her beauty was part of what made her her.

He had wanted to be loved by her. That was all he ever thought about. And now that Matsuoka—who shared the same heart—loved him, just as he had once desperately wished, he found himself hesitating. Frozen in place before that wall that he couldn’t bring himself to climb: the fact that Matsuoka was a man.

If Matsuoka truly hadn’t changed beyond appearance, then perhaps it really was himself who had changed.

After the meal, they walked together toward the station, then parted ways. Rocking on the train ride home, Hiromatsu thought about Matsuoka. It wasn’t that he’d come to dislike him. He still liked him. He liked him enough to wish they could stay friends forever.

The hanging straps above swayed gently in unison. Is it wrong not to be able to love someone? Is it wrong to want to turn this changing feeling into something like friendship instead of love? Is it really so bad to let yourself accept that?

He was lost in these thoughts when, standing in front of his apartment, he saw Matsuoka. For a moment he thought he’d imagined it—he’d been thinking about him so much, it must be a hallucination.

“Sorry to come so late.”

Under the dim hallway light, Matsuoka gave him a tense smile.

“I was working late. I happened to be in the area, so I thought I’d stop by.”

Reality spoke. Hiromatsu let out a light sigh and stepped closer to Matsuoka, who stood at the door.

“If you were coming, you could’ve sent a message.”

As he pulled out his key, Matsuoka spoke from behind.

“Is there some reason you don’t want me here?”

There was a slight edge to the words. Coming from Matsuoka—who wasn’t the type to make such snide remarks—it caught Hiromatsu off guard.

“It’s not that. I just meant I could’ve come back earlier if I’d known.”

Matsuoka looked down. The way he stood made him seem angry, and Hiromatsu felt unsettled.

“I was out with Hayama-san after work. We had dinner.”

He spoke as he unlocked the door.

“Come in. Want something warm to drink? You must be cold.”

“…I know,” Matsuoka said.

When he looked up, his expression had returned to the usual Matsuoka.

“I got a message from Hayama. Said she was having dinner with you.”

“Oh, really?”

“She wrote that you’d been venting about work and stuff.”

“Ah, yeah. Things have been pretty rough lately. I think she’s pretty stressed too.”

Matsuoka followed him inside.

When Hiromatsu returned with two cups of coffee, there were several color-printed sheets laid out on the kotatsu.

“What’s this?”

“I printed out a few pages from the inn’s website—the one we’re staying at Saturday. You said you don’t use the internet much, so…”

“I see. Thanks for going out of your way.”

Hiromatsu picked up the pages and flipped through them. The atmosphere seemed nice, the bath looked spacious—and best of all, there was an open-air bath.

“Is work really that bad? I knew Hayama was sent to help out…”

Hiromatsu answered while still looking over the pages.

“Two people are out on medical leave. We’re down to three people in an office that barely functioned with four people.”

“You never complain to me, do you?”

The words had a faint barb, and Hiromatsu looked up from the pages.

“I just think complaining can be exhausting for the person listening.”

“But you talk to Hayama.”

Matsuoka’s eyes were unusually sharp. Every word seemed to snag. He’d suspected Matsuoka was irritated from the beginning, but now he wasn’t sure what exactly he was angry about.

“She works in the same department, so it’s easier to talk about some things with her.”

“…Sorry.”

An unexpected apology. Hiromatsu had thought he was angry—but now he was apologizing. Completely thrown off, he asked, “Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m going home.”

Matsuoka grabbed his coat and bag and fled the room like he was escaping.

Left behind, Hiromatsu stared at the still-warm coffee Matsuoka had barely touched. He didn’t understand why he had come. He’d brought the inn printouts—but had that really been the only reason?

About thirty minutes after Matsuoka left, a message arrived:

“Sorry for showing up at your apartment all of a sudden today.”

The tone of the message showed no sign of the strange behavior from earlier.

Hiromatsu replied, “Don’t worry about it.”

But after that, there was no more message from Matsuoka that night.

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