Cold Light - Chapter 1 - Part 1

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The sound of cicadas crying outside was so loud that it was almost irritating. Come to think of it, the day he first came to the house was also during the summer holidays. I still vividly remember that small head hanging down in front of the back door, wearing a dirty blue baseball cap, and the dark shadow it cast on the stone pavement at his feet.

"I’ve been thinking about it for a long time, but I still don’t understand. My mind has been blank since I woke up, and I don’t remember anything."

Lying on the hospital bed, he lowered his eyes as if confused. Oh, he must have truly forgotten. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be talking to me face to face like this.

"It might be rude to ask this way, but what kind of relationship do we have?"

It was hard to describe the relationship between him and me in a single word. No, maybe it was actually easy. If I just said we were strangers, it would end with that. We weren’t connected by blood, nor were we even friends.

He smiled. It was a vague smile, as if trying to fill the awkwardness. I wondered why he was smiling like that, and then I realized that I hadn't answered his question.

He asked again.

"Who are you?"

Standing there in a daze, I clenched my trembling fingertips tightly. He speaks with his face, his lips. This man who is him but not him—where on earth did he come from?

"I really don’t understand anything..."

What could I do for him, who looked so lost, saying he didn’t understand with such a sad expression? Telling him the truth and throwing him into hell… No one wanted such a role.

I clenched my molars tightly. I wanted to protect him. Even if it meant twisting the truth, I wanted to protect you. I didn’t want to be a coward who pretended not to see the hand reaching out for help, like I did back then.

"...I'm your friend."

My lips trembled. It was the first lie I told him since he lost his memory.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The cherry blossom tree I saw in front of the station while waiting at the traffic light was vivid with deep green leaves in the early summer sunlight. When I last saw it, it was still covered in hard buds, showing no sign of blooming. As I thought about how the season had passed in a blink, Keishi Fujishima shifted his hips to the center of the seat. The sun through the window was hot on his cheeks.

“Is something wrong?”

His roommate, Tohru Takahisa, who was sitting beside him, peeked at his face.

“No, not really…”

Tohru muttered “I see” and faced forward. Suddenly, he let out a small exclamation.

“Driver, it’s right at that corner.”

The middle-aged taxi driver in his fifties, who had his left blinker on, apologized with a shrug of his shoulders, looking embarrassed. He corrected the direction of the indicator to the right and changed lanes. Fujishima glanced at his wristwatch. It was just past two in the afternoon.

“Don’t you need to go to your part-time job?”

Tohru smiled kindly, a face that people naturally liked.

“I only worked this morning. I took the afternoon off.”

“I see…”

Fujishima felt guilty, thinking Tohru had taken a half-day off on a weekday just for his sake. Tohru peeked at Fujishima’s face and let out a small sigh.

“I’ve been at the shop every day except on days off recently. On top of that, I’ve been working hard for the boss, so I thought I could use a break around this time…”

It might have been a lie to make him feel better, but it certainly eased Fujishima’s feelings a little. Six months ago, Tohru was involved in a car accident and lost twenty-two years' worth of memories. He didn’t remember his upbringing, the fact that he was a delivery driver for a courier company, or even that he had caused a major accident while on a delivery. After barely escaping death and being discharged from the hospital, he has been living with Fujishima and working part-time at a pastry shop called ‘Port’.

Right after Tohru had his accident, Fujishima sold off the company he had inherited from his parents to someone else. He needed that much money to keep the accident from becoming public knowledge and to prevent Tohru from facing criminal charges. Tohru didn’t know about this, nor did Fujishima intend to tell him.

If he had relied on connections from his previous company, he might have found a slightly better place to work. However, Fujishima is now working in sales at a paper manufacturing company, completely unrelated to his previous profession.

Lost in thought, he was brought back to reality by the jolt of the brakes. Noticing the familiar surroundings, he realized they had returned to the front of the apartment building. When he reached for his wallet, Tohru had already paid the fare and was receiving the change. Tohru shoved the coins carelessly into the pocket of his jeans, grabbed Fujishima’s bag with his belongings, and got out of the taxi.

Tohru waited at the entrance of the apartment building for Fujishima, who was a beat behind. When he caught up, they started walking slowly. Inside the elevator, Fujishima pulled out his wallet and said, "Let me pay for the taxi," but Tohru gently placed his right hand over his.

“It’s fine.”

Fujishima didn’t feel right about it, but he didn’t want to argue over a few hundred yen, so he put his wallet away. To be honest, he didn’t want to owe him anything, no matter the form. That was something he had been thinking since they started living together.

With a light jolt, the elevator stopped on the seventh floor. Tohru, who got out first, opened the door with a key. It was the first time in almost two months that Fujishima returned to this room. As he took off his shoes at the entrance, he squinted at the view of the house from the hallway. The door in front led to the living room, and beyond that was the kitchen. At the end of the hall was his room, and to the left was Tohru’s room. It was not a particularly spacious apartment, but there was something deeply moving about it that welled up in his chest… Because when he was stabbed in the right side of his abdomen, he had thought he would die like that.

Feeling a sharp pain in a wound that should have already healed, Fujishima unconsciously pressed his side. The person who had stabbed him was the sister of the victim of the car accident caused by Tohru. She could not forgive the man who had killed her brother, even if it was an accident, escaping without being held accountable or even offering an apology. Fujishima had sent money to the victim’s family as a form of apology, but the loss of a loved one wasn’t something that could be resolved with money.

The real target had been Tohru, but Fujishima had shielded him with his own body. It wasn’t that he wanted to die, but he wasn’t afraid to throw himself in front of a sharp blade.

As Fujishima sat down on the sofa in the living room and sighed, Tohru asked, "Are you tired?" Given that they had only taken a taxi for about fifteen minutes from the hospital to their home, there was no reason to be tired.

"I'm fine."

"That's good to hear."

Tohru placed Fujishima’s belongings, which he hadn’t allowed him to touch since leaving the hospital, under the sofa. Fujishima absentmindedly watched Tohru’s broad back quickly disappear into the kitchen. Tohru was tall. Although he had been thin and small like a wire in elementary school, he had grown tall and gracefully, as if he had shed his skin.

Soon, a cup of coffee with a pleasant aroma was brought over. Next to Fujishima’s cup, there was also a small plate with a tiny, ten-centimeter-(4 in) diameter whole cake.

"This is to celebrate your discharge from the hospital. It’s a little early for a snack, but…”

“Thank you.”

As Fujishima thanked him, slightly bewildered by the unexpected gift, the man sitting across from him clasped his hands together and smiled brightly. Fujishima's calm heart suddenly felt restless, and he quickly averted his gaze. Recently, Tohru often smiled with such gentle kindness.

"By the way, the cake was made by the boss, but the chocolate and the decorative strawberries were my special additions."

Tohru often brought home leftover cakes from his part-time job for Fujishima, who had a sweet tooth. However, they were always slices, and this was the first time Fujishima had seen a whole cake.

Tohru had become quite favored by the shop owner, whom he called “boss.” He had even been invited to try making cakes from scratch. It was easy to see why people liked him; his cheerful and straightforward nature made it enjoyable just to be around him. With his short hair and usual casual clothes, he looked younger than his twenty-two years. His carefree expressions and innocent way of speaking further blurred his actual age.

But Fujishima was different from Tohru. He found social interactions challenging, couldn’t even manage to smile politely, and was often described as “expressionless.” He was also terribly inarticulate, and there were times when he got frustrated with himself. However, from the moment he accepted that there are some things about oneself that can’t be changed, he felt a bit more at ease.

At almost thirty, it wasn't easy to change one's character. With a wry smile, Fujishima picked up the plate in front of him. He carefully observed the cake that Tohru had made for him. Decorated with strawberries cut into flower shapes and garnished with chocolate bars, it was so beautifully arranged that it felt like a shame to eat it. As he turned the plate to get a better look, Tohru quickly urged him, "Hurry up and eat it."

“If you stare at it too long, you'll notice all the mistakes, so just eat it like you always do.”

“It’s so beautifully decorated, it’d be a waste to eat it right away.”

“Just do it!”

Tohru’s face, blushing with embarrassment, was charming. Fujishima wanted to look at that face a little longer, but instead of teasing him, he picked up his fork.

The cake was so cute that he didn't know where to start eating. He carefully scooped a small piece from the edge and put it in his mouth. A gentle vanilla aroma wafted through, and the perfect sweetness spread across his tongue. He slowly savored the sweet fragrance filling his mouth. As he took a second bite, he wondered why the cakes here always tasted so delicious, almost enough to make him want to laugh.

When Tohru mentioned wanting to work at a pastry shop, Fujishima didn’t stop him, but he hadn’t fully supported the idea either. He himself had a decent income and was not struggling financially. Tohru didn't need to work, and Fujishima wanted him to pursue whatever he wanted freely.

Memory loss is a strange phenomenon. Along with the lost memories, hobbies and personalities can change drastically. Before he lost his memory, Tohru would always use his fists before words when something didn’t sit right with him. Fujishima had no idea that the hobby of this man, whom his mother had called a mad dog, was photography until he cleaned out his room after the accident.

Even if one loses their memory, the core aspects of who they are should remain the same, or so Fujishima thought. That’s why he initially recommended Tohru attend a photography school. However, contrary to his expectations, Tohru strongly disliked the idea. With his past memories left behind, Tohru was now doing something unimaginable compared to his former self… making cakes.

Feeling a gaze, Fujishima looked up and met eyes with the man sitting across from him.

“What are you looking at?”

“I was just thinking that your skin is very pale, Fujishima-san…”

Fujishima looked gloomily at his own hand, so pale that the veins were almost transparent. He had always been told he was fair-skinned. No matter how much he ate, he never gained weight; his body was thin to the point of frailty rather than slender. His white skin seemed like a symbol of his fragility. His body hair was thin as well, and he only needed to groom his beard every other day.

“Being skinny and pale makes me look weak.”

When he laughed self-deprecatingly, Tohru’s eyes widened in surprise.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Fujishima knew Tohru didn’t mean any harm. He was just more conscious of it because he didn’t like his slender build and pale skin, which he inherited from his mother. Fujishima stopped talking and faced the cake again. Still, he felt like he was being watched, so he looked up, and their eyes met again.

“Could you stop looking at me so much?”

Tohru looked puzzled.

“Why?”

When he felt like he was being watched, Fujishima couldn’t relax. Thinking that someone might be looking at his pale skin and frail body, which he disliked, made him even more uneasy.

“I like watching you when you’re eating, Fujishima-san.”

Fujishima tilted his head.

“There’s nothing interesting about watching that, is there?”

“It is interesting,” Tohru laughed.

“I don’t think you realize it because you can’t see your own face when you’re eating cake, but you look like you’re really enjoying it, like you’re truly happy.”

Indeed, the cake was delicious, and I always felt happy while eating it. But I hadn’t realized that such a childlike joy was so plainly visible on my face, and I blushed.

"Could you please look away?"

Tohru frowned and said, "What?"

"Please."

"...Okay."

I felt relieved at his agreement. Still, I wondered what my face looked like to make it so obvious to others how happy I was. If possible, I never wanted to show such an expression in front of Tohru again.

I sensed his gaze again. But he had just promised to look away. When I looked up, Tohru was indeed facing sideways. I thought it might have been my imagination, but I glanced up at him to check. Sure enough, he was watching me. Suddenly tense, my fingertips began to tremble. He was watching me because I was eating. If that was the case, I should just hurry up and finish eating. Quickening his pace, Fujishima accidentally dropped his fork on the floor in his rush.

As he bent down to pick it up, he heard a jarring clatter right next to his ear.

“Are you okay?”

The man across from him rushed over in a panic. Fujishima was stunned, holding half of a broken plate. In his haste to pick up the fork, he had accidentally knocked the cake plate with his left hand against the edge of the table and broke it.

The remaining plate and the cake were sprawled messily on the carpet. Thinking, “What should I do?”—it was something Tohru had worked so hard to make—Fujishima reached out his right hand to pick up the fallen cake, but it was quickly grabbed.

“Don’t touch it with your bare hands. You might cut yourself!”

Scolded in a harsh tone, the remaining half of the plate was also taken from his grasp.

“Let me see your hands.”

With a furrowed brow, Tohru looked angry.

“I’m fine. The cake is more important…”

“I don’t care about that. I just want to make sure you’re not injured.”

Feeling pushed by Tohru’s urgency, Fujishima obediently extended both hands. After grabbing his wrists and pulling them close to inspect them carefully, Tohru let out a sigh of relief.

“Don’t scare me like that. Just thinking you might be hurt again makes my heart stop.”

Feeling the warmth radiating from Tohru’s hands, Fujishima's chest tightened. Before it grew any more intense, he pulled his hands away. The warm fingers easily let go.

“...I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine now. Just stay there and don’t do anything.”

Following Tohru's instruction, Fujishima kept his hands on his knees and stayed still. Although he wanted to help somehow, he felt he might get scolded again if he moved unnecessarily. Tohru picked up the broken pieces of the plate with rubber gloves and placed them in a paper bag, then cleaned the dirty carpet. His movements were quick and efficient.

After finishing the cleanup, Tohru sat down not across from Fujishima but next to him. The close distance made Fujishima a bit nervous.

“You sometimes do reckless things, Fujishima-san. It worries me.”

He was probably referring to the time when Fujishima was stabbed while protecting Tohru.

“I’m fine.”

“You say you’re fine, but you’re the kind of person who almost dies. It’s not convincing at all.”

“You’re exaggerating. I didn’t think I would die.”

“That’s a lie.”

He spoke with a strong conviction.

“A person who doesn’t think they’re going to die doesn’t leave behind something like a will. No one would joke about ‘if I die’.”

When I was stabbed, I honestly thought it was the end. That’s why I said I would leave everything to him. Maybe that was a will.

“Promise me that you’ll never get hurt in front of me again.”

Fujishima thought carefully. After seriously considering, he said:

“I might fall.”

Tohru tilted his head.

“Fall?”

“For example, I might trip in front of you. And if that happens, I might get hurt.”

Tohru tightly pressed his lips together and shook his shoulders. His strange expression twitched slightly, and then, as if he couldn’t hold it in any longer, he burst out laughing.

Hearing the loud laughter, Fujishima felt like he was falling into a deep, dark hole. He didn’t understand what was so funny. At least, as far as Fujishima could think, he hadn’t said anything worth laughing about that much.

“Sorry for laughing. I just thought you were being so straightforward.”

After wiping away the tears forming at the corners of his eyes, Tohru touched Fujishima’s cheek with his fingertips. Surprised, Fujishima drew back, and Tohru’s smile disappeared in an instant, his face looking hurt. Fujishima wondered if he had been too obvious. Tohru looked down and sighed.

“Do you dislike it when I touch you?”

“It’s not that I dislike it.”

“Then why do you pull away?”

It wasn’t that he disliked it. But pulling away could be seen as a rejection… while Fujishima was thinking this, Tohru said, "Can I touch your hair? There's some dust; I'll get it out for you."

Before Fujishima could reply, Tohru leaned in and touched his hair. He gently pressed on the back of his head. Just as Fujishima thought their faces were close, he felt a cold sensation as their lips brushed together.

Even after the kiss, Tohru continued to gaze intently at him without showing any remorse. Fujishima covered his mouth and looked down. Even though he thought, "This is bad," he couldn’t stop his ears from turning red. As he tried to escape by getting up from the sofa, Tohru grabbed his wrist and asked, "Where are you going?"

“I have something to talk to you about.”

“I’ll listen later…”

“It has to be now.”

Tohru pulled on his wrist, and Fujishima was brought back to the sofa. His hand was pulled to Tohru’s chest.

“Fujishima-san, what do you think of me?”

He was asking if Fujishima saw him as a romantic interest. This wasn’t the first time Tohru had come on to him. He had confessed his feelings once before, while Fujishima was still in the hospital. Back then, Fujishima had been so flustered that he ended up saying words he never thought he’d use with Tohru… "I love you."

Since then, Fujishima had refused Tohru’s touch, and even when they were together, there hadn’t been any moments like this. So, Fujishima thought Tohru had come to his senses and realized that it was strange for a man to like another man.

“I think you’re important to me…”

He tried to evade the question.

“I love you, Fujishima-san.”

Tohru’s direct confession hit him square in the back as he tried to flee.

“After I lost my memory and started living with you, Fujishima-san, I thought you were too serious and not someone I could get along with. But after I realized you were thinking about me and caring for me, I started to like you.”

Caught in the seriousness of Tohru’s gaze, Fujishima couldn’t look away.

“It might seem strange for two men, but I don’t want to lie about my feelings.”

The straightforward confession of love sent shivers through his body. What should he do? There was only one answer to this situation. He had no choice but to say, “No.”

Even though I loved this man and was willing to trade my own life to protect him...

"I planned to tell you once you were discharged, Fujishima-san. Since we will be living together again, I wanted to be clear before that. I don’t want to just be your roommate, I want to be your boyfriend. I want to live together as lovers."

My palms, clenched tightly, started to sweat.

"We can’t be lovers," I said, forcing the words out from deep in my throat, drawing to a conclusion.

"Why?" he asked in return.

"I love you, and I know you love me too. If we both love each other, why can’t we be together?"

I hated him for assuming it was a given that ‘you love me too, Fujishima-san.’

"If it’s not possible, then tell me the reason. Explain it to me in a way I can understand."

He pressed in close. When I didn’t respond, Tohru began speaking on his own, sounding frustrated.

"Is it because I’m younger than you and a guy? Because I don’t have financial stability? Because I say selfish things and act spoiled?"

"I never said any of those things."

"Then why can’t we be together? I can’t think of any other reasons."

With those words spat out, he embraced me tightly. When I struggled in confusion, the embrace became so tight I could hardly breathe.

"St...stop..."

My voice was hoarse. I felt his lips coming closer and instinctively shrank back, but he forced a kiss on me. Unlike before, this kiss had a possessive intensity.

"I always think about you, Fujishima-san," Tohru murmured softly.

"Even when something fun happens, I always wish you were there with me."

His sincere words tugged painfully at my heart, and I shook my head. Tohru, looking dejected, bit his lip lightly.

"Even if you reject me, at least tell me the reason."

I chose my words carefully. After choosing them, I spoke.

"You’ve lost your memory. When you eventually get it back, this could cause you problems."

"What problems? If I were to be in a relationship with you, what would be the issue?"

Tohru spread his hands and spoke with a disgruntled expression.

"I don’t know how you’ll regain your memory, but if you do remember this, being involved with someone you disliked could become a nuisance for you."

Tohru lowered his head, falling silent. The silence stretched on, and just when I thought he might have understood, his bowed head shook slightly, and a small laugh escaped.

"You prefer the old me, before I lost my memory, over the current me, don’t you, Fujishima-san?"

He said something I had never considered.

"Why would you say that?"

"Because that’s what it seems like. If you’re ignoring my current feelings for the sake of the old me, then you must have liked the old me more. Doesn’t that mean the old me is more important to you?"

"That’s not true."

I had never thought about which version of him was more important. I was only ever concerned with how to make the person in front of me happy.

"It’s true. I can’t remember who I was before I lost my memory. But I don’t need to remember anymore. I don’t care about that. I’m fine just being who I am now."

Tohru declared firmly.

"I’m here, right now. Even if I only have memories of the last six months, I’m still here. If you reject the 'me' who’s here now, then what’s the point of my existence? Who is the 'me' that you see, Fujishima-san? Who is the 'me' that loves you, Fujishima-san?"

I couldn’t answer. This time, I stood up and left the living room. Tohru didn’t follow me. The moment I entered my room, I slumped down in front of the door. The words Tohru had thrown at me weighed heavily on my chest, leaving me unsure of my own feelings.

So, I focused on the things I was certain about. I love this man, Tohru Takahisa. Even after he lost his memory, my feelings hadn’t changed. In my mind, the two versions of Tohru are connected in a straight line. But Tohru is different. He can only see and understand his current self. The reason he says he loves me is that he only sees the surface of who I am, Keishi Fujishima. If he remembered his past, those feelings would never arise.

It would be easy to fall in love. All I had to do was tell him that I loved him too and not reject his advances. Being intimate would likely give me pleasure beyond anything I could imagine. And it was something that, even if I begged, the Tohru from before losing his memory would never give me.

If I had any guarantee that the past would never return... I might have acted as if nothing happened and loved him. I might have let myself be swept away in a blissful, dream-like time. A devil whispered in my ear. He might never remember. So why not savor the happiness of being loved by him?

I clenched my teeth and pushed away the temptation. It wasn’t about whether or not his memory returned. I had decided I would never betray him again. His happiness didn’t lie in being in a romantic relationship with me but in living freely, doing what he wanted. All I needed to do was serve as the foundation for his life. I didn’t want to do anything that would embarrass me in front of him when he regained his memory. For that reason, I couldn’t let myself fall into a romantic relationship with him. That was my "sincerity" toward him.

Fujishima covered his face with both hands. He hadn’t expected it to turn out like this. He only wanted Tohru to be happy, and he thought he could quietly watch over him, even if he loved someone else along the way. It was true that I wanted him, but I never thought for a moment that he could love me.

He hated me. And I had done enough to deserve that hate. I closed my eyes. My memories raced back to the past, and Fujishima recalled the suffocating days of his youth...

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