Cold Light - Chapter 1 - Part 5

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Inside the house, Fujishima gazed blankly out his room’s window at the transformed garden. Suddenly, he sensed someone passing by below and quickly pressed his forehead against the glass. Unable to see clearly, he dashed out of the room, running down the stairs. Without fully putting on his shoes, he rushed into the garden, desperately searching for a small child. Since the garden had changed, he felt as if the child who had returned might be lost.

Hearing a rustling sound behind him, Fujishima turned to see Tamaki standing there with shopping bags in hand.

"Welcome home. You’re back much earlier than expected."

"The road from the airport was clear... so..."

"You must be tired. I’ll prepare tea right away."

Leaving those words behind, she began walking towards the back entrance.

"Um..."

When Fujishima called out, Tamaki stopped and slowly turned around.

"From upstairs, it looked like someone had passed by here... so I..."

"It might have been me. Earlier, I forgot to lock the gate, so I went back to secure it."

"Oh... I see..."

Fujishima looked again at the blooming garden.

"My mother had this garden made, right?"

"She arranged for it before you left on the trip."

He almost mentioned Tohru but stopped himself.

"What about the belongings that were in the storehouse?"

"Madam ordered that everything be disposed of."

He lowered his eyes and bit his lip, clenching his hands tightly. He was frustrated and felt empty for not being able to protect even a single memory.

"May I visit your room tonight, young master?"

Fujishima looked up.

"There’s something important I need to discuss with you."

"What... what is it about?"

"I’ll tell you tonight."

Tamaki gave a small bow and walked briskly towards the back door. Fujishima’s heart raced with anxiety, suspecting it was about Tohru, and he couldn’t wait for night to come.

After eleven o'clock, Tamaki visited Fujishima's room, carrying a tray with tea and snacks, along with a small bag. She quietly announced, "I’ve been granted leave starting next week."

"I’ve been requesting this for some time. I’ll be turning sixty-five next year, and my health has been declining. My daughter has invited me to live with her, so I decided to take this opportunity to retire..."

After bowing deeply, she continued, "Madam told me not to mention Tohru to you, but since this will be the last time..."

Tamaki then revealed that the day after Tohru had been severely punished by Fujishima's mother, he developed a fever. She had found him when bringing his meal, and in a panic, took him to the hospital, where he was diagnosed with a broken rib. The doctor, noticing the numerous other wounds on his body, suspected child abuse, and in her panic, Tamaki returned to the estate to consult with Fujishima's mother. The mother, however, was furious, asking why she hadn’t just left him alone. Realizing she couldn’t rely on the mother, Tamaki consulted Fujishima's father, who was on a business trip. The father instructed that Tohru be transferred to a hospital run by a doctor he knew. Tamaki visited Tohru several times a week, but after about a month, he was discharged, and she was not told where he had gone.

"The master said that Tohru would 'never return to the estate.' I’ve heard he’ll soon be enrolling in a boarding school."

The fact that Tohru’s small body had been beaten to the point of breaking his bones brought tears to Fujishima’s eyes.

"This is for you..."

Tamaki pulled out a small indigo-dyed kimono from the bag she had brought.

"Madam ordered that everything be disposed of, but I couldn’t bring myself to throw this away. It was carefully stored at the bottom of the chest... so I’m returning it to you."

Trembling, Fujishima accepted it. The image of Tohru running around in that kimono vividly resurfaced in his mind.

"He was such a sweet, obedient child, and the kimono suited him so well. I wonder why Madam was so cruel to him. Children are innocent..."

Tamaki wiped away her overflowing tears.

"It’s my fault."

Fujishima muttered, still gripping the kimono.

"I couldn’t protect him... When my mother accused Tohru of stealing, I couldn’t deny it. That’s why Tohru was beaten so badly..."

"Madam had already suspected that Tohru was visiting your room."

Tamaki sobbed.

"She had often said, 'I hear noises from the second floor,' or 'I hear voices,' and I had dismissed it as her imagination, but I think it had been on her mind for a long time. She would often say, almost as a mantra, 'Keishi would never betray me.' When she saw Tohru’s room, realizing that you had cared for him was the final blow. She felt betrayed, and that made her treat him even more harshly..."

Fujishima was shocked. Tohru had suffered that severe punishment because of him. He had been beaten so badly that his ribs broke... and kept getting beaten. Fujishima felt such hatred for his past self that he wanted to destroy the person he had been. He had loved Tohru, but he had been too cowardly to even protect the one he loved.

The next day, Fujishima visited his father’s room. Getting straight to the point, he said, "I want to know which middle school Tohru is attending," to which his father frowned and asked, "Why do you want to know?"

"I want to see him."

"And what will you do if you see him?"

His father responded irritably without looking up from the documents spread out on his desk.

"I want to apologize..."

After briefly glancing at his son's face, his father flicked the edge of the document in his hand and flatly said, "I won't tell you. If I did, he might be killed. I wouldn't be able to live with that."

"Killed? That’s... impossible..."

"He was actually close to being killed by your mother. His broken rib punctured his lung, and he was in critical condition. I always thought she was a woman with no common sense, but I never imagined she could be that foolish. By the way, I heard you were there when he was being punished."

His father's sharp gaze pierced through Fujishima.

"You watched and did nothing, didn’t you?"

The truth squeezed Fujishima's entire body, filling him with dread.

"But..."

"Do you think you could have just said 'but' if he had died? How old are you? Use your common sense!"

Shouted at, Fujishima shrank like a deflated balloon. His father sighed heavily, running his hand roughly through his hair.

"I’m also responsible for doing nothing. That’s why I’ll take care of him until he becomes an adult. But from now on, I won’t allow you or your mother to be involved with him at all."

Crushed, Fujishima left his father’s room. He had been told he no longer had the right to apologize. And he believed it was true. From the moment he failed to protect Tohru, he no longer deserved to be by his side.

Before he knew it, Fujishima was standing in front of the English garden that had replaced the demolished storehouse. The realization that he would never see Tohru again sank into his very core. He would never again see the boy who had comforted him with his small hands, despite his own loneliness. Never again. Tears flowed endlessly. It was a mix of regret and a final farewell to the first thing he had ever truly cared about.

If he ever saw Tohru again, he resolved to apologize, even if he was cursed and beaten. If he could be forgiven, he would do anything...

He hoped that Tohru would make friends at his new school, that he wouldn’t feel lonely. He wished from the bottom of his heart that Tohru would quickly forget about his time in this house, forget about him, and find happiness.

...It was five years later, in the spring, when Fujishima saw Tohru again. Following the predetermined path, Fujishima joined his father's company. With no leniency granted due to his blood ties, he was kept busy with training and business trips.

That day, he unusually returned home early, around 7 p.m. As soon as he entered the front door, he noticed a pair of dirty basketball shoes. Curious about the guest, he handed his coat to Keiko, the maid who had come to greet him, and asked, "Who’s here?" Keiko, with an unclear expression, hesitated and replied, "Well, um..."

The fact that she couldn’t say clearly made Fujishima wonder if it was his mother’s boyfriend, a situation that was becoming almost common knowledge. However, judging by the shoes, the guest seemed younger. Thinking it was pointless to dwell on it, Fujishima simply said, "Bring dinner to my room," and walked down the long hallway.

Just before reaching the stairs, he heard a door open behind him. When he turned around, he saw a tall, thin young man emerge from the washroom. He had a sharp chin and thin lips. With his casual attire of a long-sleeved shirt and jeans, he looked quite young, like a high school student.

Noticing Fujishima, the young man narrowed his eyes slightly without expression. Just as Fujishima was about to greet him, the young man slowly approached the stairs and suddenly punched Fujishima hard on his right cheek. The force of the blow sent him crashing into the stairs, where he crouched down. He felt an intense pain he had never experienced before and tasted iron in his mouth. Shocked by the sudden violence, Fujishima could only stare up at the man in stunned silence.

The man looked down at Fujishima, shrugged his shoulders, and laughed softly before turning on his heel and walking out of the house. Fujishima couldn’t reconcile this person with the elementary school student Tohru he had parted ways with five years ago.

Tohru had been involved in a violent incident at high school. Although he avoided expulsion, he was placed on house arrest and had returned home. The boy, now a young man, bore no resemblance to the child he once knew. Despite his fear of the aura of casual violence around him, Fujishima couldn’t take his eyes off this man who had returned from boyhood.

Even though Fujishima wanted to apologize for the past, every time he faced Tohru’s cold gaze, his body trembled, and he couldn’t say a word. Even when he mustered the courage to speak, Tohru would blatantly ignore him. Once, when Fujishima stopped him in the hallway, Tohru slapped him hard across the face, leaving his cheek swollen for two days.

Tohru’s mere presence created a tense atmosphere. His violent outbursts affected others, and the servants would avert their eyes and lower their voices whenever they saw him.

After his first house arrest, Tohru continued to cause trouble at school and would return home frequently. He occupied a guest room on the first floor, sometimes lounging around the house, then returning to the school dormitory, only to be sent back after causing more problems.

Each time Tohru returned, his mother would fly into hysterics, taking out her anger on the servants. Fujishima couldn’t understand why Tohru suddenly started coming back to the house or why he kept causing problems. It wasn’t until later that he speculated that perhaps Tohru just wanted attention from the only family member he believed he had left—his father.

In February, shortly before Tohru was to graduate from high school, his father died on a cold winter day. That morning, a servant found him dead in bed, as if he had simply fallen asleep. It was a heart attack. The funeral was held solemnly and smoothly, with his mother wearing a mourning dress but looking oddly relieved.

Tohru was absent from the funeral. The secretary must have informed him of his father’s death, but the fact that he didn’t show up made Fujishima wonder if Tohru, recognized by their father only in name, really was a stranger after all.

Tohru returned home about two weeks after the funeral, on a Sunday. At that time, Fujishima was caught up in the chaos of the company’s leadership transition and new appointments, which had become a source of intense debate. While there was no opposition to Fujishima succeeding his father as president, his choice for the assistant president position had sparked complaints. For several years, Fujishima had been concerned about the changing character of Nagiryuu. In their drive for efficiency to meet global demand, Nagiryuu had gradually seen a decline in quality. The loss of long-time customers was also troubling. Fujishima decided that restoring the quality, rather than merely boosting profits, was the priority, and he nominated a former craftsman who had risen to the level of section chief as his assistant. This move, however, did not sit well with the department heads.

However, no matter what anyone said, Fujishima had no intention of reversing his decision. While he hadn't particularly desired to take over Nagiryuu, he felt a responsibility to protect it, and he had a deep attachment to the uniquely textured kimonos he had grown up with.

That day, despite it being a Sunday, Fujishima went to the office. A discussion he intended to wrap up by noon stretched into the afternoon, and it was after 5 p.m. by the time he returned home. Exhausted from consecutive sleepless nights and the need to appease senior employees, he was further disheartened by the pouring rain. Slumped with fatigue, he opened the front door, only to be startled by the sound of Tohru's shouting echoing through the hallway.

"...I'll kill you!"

Alarmed by the dangerous words, he hurried to peek into the living room. There, he found Tohru, soaking wet in his school uniform, standing across from their mother, who was dressed up as if she was about to go out.

"You old hag!"

Despite Tohru's abusive language, his mother remained unfazed, her expression calm and cool. She lightly placed her hand over her mouth.

"What a vulgar boy."

She murmured, then noticed Fujishima standing by the door.

"Oh, welcome home, Keishi. Thank you for your hard work."

Tohru turned to look at Fujishima, his gaze filled with murderous intent.

"I-I'm home... Were you two talking?"

Uneasy in the tense atmosphere, Fujishima cautiously entered the room. Tohru hung his head low, and their mother cast a brief, disdainful glance at him.

"He's angry because I didn’t inform him of his father's death. I didn’t see the need to tell him. Maybe now he’ll finally understand his place."

Fujishima was shocked.

"The secretary didn’t inform Tohru about Father’s death?"

"I stopped him. The last thing I wanted was to see that insolent face at such a depressing funeral."

Fujishima was appalled by his mother's selfishness. She then turned to Tohru and, in a composed voice, declared,

"You, a stranger, dare to act like you belong here. You’re nothing but a parasite. Leave this house and never set foot here again."

Tohru’s clenched fists trembled.

"I’m not leaving..."

He lifted his head and growled in a voice that seemed to crawl up from the depths of the earth. Water dripped from his chin.

"I have the right to inherit. Even if I was born out of wedlock, I was recognized. I’m his blood son, no matter how much you hate it..."

Fujishima was surprised that Tohru didn’t know the truth. At that moment, their mother’s laughter rang through the living room.

"You think you’re related by blood? How ridiculous. You don’t even know the truth."

"Mother, please wait!"

Ignoring Fujishima’s attempt to stop her, his mother delivered the blow.

"He only 'recognized' you. There’s no blood connection whatsoever."

Tohru’s angry eyebrows twitched.

"Don’t be stupid. I’m his child. He..."

His mother let out a small snort.

"If you don’t believe me, feel free to get a DNA test. That man was 'impotent' long before you were born. An impotent man can’t have children. You were brought here by that man solely to spite me."

"Don’t joke around! No one would recognize a child they have no connection to..."

Tohru’s voice began to shake.

"As I said, it was to spite me. That man would have gladly tarnished his own family register just to annoy me."

"Lies, lies, lies!"

Tohru shouted, kicking the back of a nearby sofa and smashing a vase on the side table to the floor.

"Don’t lie to me! You don’t want to give me the inheritance, so you’re lying! I know it!"

Their mother watched Tohru, who raged like a wild beast, with cold eyes.

"If there had been any blood connection, I might have considered it. A few million yen to sever ties would have been a cheap price to pay. But since you’re a complete stranger..."

She closed her eyes and sighed deeply.

"You should be grateful that we even sent you to school... To think a mere outsider would dare demand an inheritance. Know your place."

Tohru kept his head down, not raising it.

"But if you really need the money, I suppose I could spare some. How much do you want? A million? Two million?"

Tohru lifted his head. His usually cold, condescending eyes were wide with shock, and he looked at Fujishima as if pleading.

"...It’s not true, is it?"

Those eyes were the same as they had been back then, when he had sought Fujishima’s help while being punished by their mother. It was painfully clear that Tohru wanted Fujishima to confirm that he was truly their father's son. But Fujishima couldn’t lie about the truth. Even if he did, it would eventually be revealed.

"Well, that’s..."

"Say something, damn it!"

Fujishima flinched. He needed to say something, anything... If nothing else, it seemed the only thing he could do for Tohru was to clearly state his rights as someone recognized by their father, even if there was no blood connection.

"...Even if there’s no blood connection, you were recognized by Father. You have the right to inherit. We’ll discuss everything with a lawyer and make sure things are properly arranged..."

The pleading look in Tohru’s eyes darkened for a moment, and then he lowered his head again.

"Keishi, what are you saying? Why should we give any inheritance to someone like him?"

Tohru let out a harsh laugh. He hunched over and laughed for a while, then looked up. Though he had been laughing, a single tear slid down his cheek.

"...To hell with your money!"

He spat out and bolted from the living room. Ignoring his mother’s attempts to stop him, Fujishima chased after Tohru, but his figure quickly disappeared into the gray landscape, obscured by the pouring rain.

Tohru didn’t return to his high school dormitory and disappeared without a trace. His high school diploma arrived at the house. After calling in his father’s secretary to inquire, Fujishima learned that Tohru had been accepted into a national university. Fujishima paid the entrance and tuition fees to the university, but there was no indication that Tohru had attended.

Without knowing anything about Tohru's social connections, Fujishima faced limitations in his search. He hired a detective agency to track Tohru's whereabouts. Two months later, they finally found him working part-time as a delivery driver in a neighboring prefecture. Fujishima went to see him in person.

Tohru was living in an old apartment that could hardly be called clean. Since there was no doorbell, Fujishima knocked on the door. The door opened slightly, then immediately shut. He heard the sound of a lock being turned, and after that, no matter what he said, there was no response from inside.

Every time Fujishima had a day off, he went to Tohru’s apartment, but the door was never opened again. Feeling that he couldn’t handle it alone, Fujishima tried sending a letter through a lawyer to arrange a conversation, but there was no reply. In the end, he waited for Tohru to leave for work and approached him. But Tohru only glared at him with dark eyes and then hit him. It was a winter morning, with snow piled on the ground. Sitting in the snow, Fujishima watched the white breath escaping from Tohru’s mouth and deeply realized, “He hates me.” After that, Fujishima sent one last letter. In it, he wrote his cell phone number and said, "If you ever need help, don’t hesitate to ask."

After sending that final letter, Fujishima stopped going to Tohru’s apartment. Occasionally, he saw Tohru from a distance while he was working, but he never called out, and Tohru didn’t seem to notice him either.

Four years passed that way, and then Tohru had an accident. He lost all his memories, along with all his grudges and anger, and returned to Fujishima.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

While sitting by the door, reminiscing about the past, Fujishima dozed off without realizing it. The room had grown dark, and a chill made him shiver. He stood up, stretched his stiff back, and turned on the light. Wondering what time it was, he checked the clock—it was 6 p.m. Finding it unusually dark outside, he looked out the window and saw that a fine, silk-like rain was falling.

Recalling his argument with Tohru, he felt gloomy again. No matter what Tohru said, the fact that they couldn’t be in a loving relationship now was something he couldn’t change.

Sighing, Fujishima moved the bag that had been lying on the floor to the front of the closet. He was about to start unpacking when he heard a knock on the door.

“Fujishima, dinner’s ready.”

“...Okay.”

Although he had retreated to his room to avoid further arguments, there was no trace of resentment in the voice from outside the door. It seemed that Tohru had calmed down as time passed. Knowing that Tohru wouldn’t start eating until he came out, Fujishima quickly left the room, putting off his unpacking. If Tohru was hungry, it would be cruel to make him wait.

The food laid out on the kitchen table was colorful and well-prepared. There was salmon meunière, cream stew, sautéed mushrooms, and a warm vegetable salad. Although Tohru had often made mistakes when he first started cooking, within less than half a year, his skills had improved dramatically. Even though he cooked every day, he wouldn’t have improved this much if he didn’t enjoy it. In that sense, Tohru seemed to have a natural talent for cooking.

“I made meunière for the first time. How is it?”

He suddenly asked during their otherwise quiet meal.

“It’s... good.”

“Glad to hear that.”

Tohru sighed in relief and smiled. Apparently, he had gone shopping while Fujishima was sleeping and complained that the lady at the market had convinced him to buy salmon.

“I was actually planning to make teriyaki chicken. But I stopped by the fish shop first, and they had just received fresh salmon, so she recommended it to me.”

Muttering that the salmon was good and that it was fine since he often got extra items for free, Tohru glanced up at Fujishima with an upward gaze, as if trying to gauge his reaction.

“There’s something I want to ask you, Fujishima...”

Fujishima tensed up inside and put down his chopsticks.

“What do you want to ask?”

“Uh... well, actually, never mind. It might take a while.”

Fujishima felt a wave of gloom, suspecting that Tohru would bring up the earlier conversation about why they couldn’t be lovers. He had a feeling that if pressed, he would be at a loss for words.

“Don’t worry, I won’t ask anything that will trouble you.”

It was as if Tohru could read his mind, and he added that reassurance. Trusting that he wouldn’t be asked anything too difficult, Fujishima sat across from Tohru in the living room after dinner.

But from the first question, Fujishima felt cornered.

“You once told me that we met because we worked at the same part-time job. What kind of job was that?”

After the accident, when Tohru had lost his memory, he had asked Fujishima how they had met. Fujishima had never intended to explain their complicated relationship—being brothers on paper but actually unrelated by blood, having lived together for just one year. He wanted to support Tohru as a complete stranger. So he had lied and said they met through a part-time job.

“What kind of job was it?”

When Fujishima didn’t respond, Tohru asked again. Fujishima thought of making something up, but the more he panicked, the less he could think of anything. Then, the sound of a passing car outside caught his attention. A car... a car...

“It was... a gas station job.”

Tohru tilted his head, saying “Huh...?”

“Honestly, you don’t seem like the type to work at a gas station. How old were we at the time?”

Pressed for a specific age, Fujishima hesitated. Middle schoolers can’t have part-time jobs. High schoolers often do, but it’s prohibited in some schools. It seemed less suspicious to say they worked together after graduating.

“I think we were eighteen.”

“So when exactly did we meet? When I was eighteen?”

The image of a small, thin body and a dirty baseball cap overlapped in his mind.

“Summer.”

“Hmm. And how long did we work together?”

“About a year...”

Suddenly, there was a loud bang, and Fujishima’s back tensed. Tohru had placed both hands on the table, exuding an aura of anger.

“So you lie, Fujishima.”

Gulping, Fujishima swallowed hard.

“You lie with a straight face. I didn’t know that about you.”

While Fujishima was still reeling from how he had been found out, Tohru began to speak.

“When I first came here, before I started working part-time at the convenience store, I wrote a résumé, remember? At that time, you told me that I started working part-time at a delivery company right after I graduated from high school. You never mentioned anything about working at a gas station.”

Fujishima had completely forgotten about writing the résumé. How foolish could he be? There was no longer any room for excuses.

“…I’m sorry. I made a mistake.”

Still trying to cover it up, Fujishima was immediately called out by Tohru, who said, “That’s a lie.”

“It’s not a mistake. You just don’t want to tell me the truth, do you?”

The more Fujishima tried to smooth things over, the more cornered he felt. He hunched his shoulders on the sofa and looked down.

“Why are you lying? Why are you trying to hide it? Just tell me the truth. Tell me when, where, and how we met, and why you liked me before I lost my memory. Tell me the truth.”

His hands, clenched tightly on his knees, trembled slightly. Although he wasn’t hot, sweat began to seep down his back. He didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to admit that he had been attracted to Tohru when he was just a child, that he had desired him, and that he had almost acted on those feelings. If he did, he wouldn’t just be despised—he’d be utterly condemned.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

Pressed by Tohru, Fujishima finally opened his heavy mouth.

“Because… it’s my shame…”

Why had he lied to Tohru in the first place? Why had he decided not to talk about the past when he found out Tohru had lost his memory? While part of it was to keep the accident a secret, was that really all there was to it?

Tohru had deeply hated Fujishima. After the sexual assault and the punishment by his mother, Tohru had looked at him with utter disdain, as if he were something filthy. No matter how much Fujishima apologized, the feelings in Tohru’s gaze never changed.

The Tohru who had lost his memory didn’t look at him with that unbearable, cold stare. Of course not—he didn’t remember anything. But if Fujishima told him the truth, wouldn’t he end up despising him just like before?

“I won’t be surprised by anything you tell me.”

Tohru murmured softly.

“My feelings won’t change.”

Fujishima felt dizzy, like he was drunk. Could it be true that Tohru wouldn’t hate him? That even if he confessed to something so shameful, Tohru wouldn’t despise him?

Tohru’s gaze was so earnest it was almost embarrassing. It was the same look he had when he confessed his feelings. Maybe now, Tohru could handle the truth. Perhaps he could even laugh off Fujishima’s foolish behavior, born from falling in love with him when he was just a child. But… what would happen after he confessed? Would it be okay to love him?

A vision of himself sinking deeper into this situation flashed through Fujishima’s mind. Not just in his imagination, but with the real Tohru. After reuniting with the high school-aged Tohru, Fujishima hadn’t cut ties, despite being pushed away repeatedly. Was it really just because he wanted to apologize? Could someone who truly wanted to apologize fantasize about being intimate with the person they wronged? Something dark and sticky filled his chest. The closer reality seemed, the dirtier his desires appeared.

If they loved each other, Fujishima knew he wouldn’t be able to turn back. He wouldn’t be able to hold back anymore. He would never want to let Tohru go. If the current Tohru could reciprocate his feelings, that would be fine. But what if Tohru regained his memory? If he forgot everything about being loved by Fujishima, even though they had so many memories together? Even if he remembered, what if he thought Fujishima had taken advantage of him because he had no memory? He might be despised more than ever before.

If Tohru regained his memory, he would either forget about Fujishima or hate him. Eventually, he would love someone else. Could Fujishima stay sane when that happened? Loving someone who no longer loved him back… just the thought of it… From the moment he accepted Tohru, Fujishima would be haunted by the fear of when Tohru’s memory would return… forever.

Tohru stood up from the sofa and faced Fujishima. The tension of being looked down upon made Fujishima tremble.

“Are you keeping things from me because you want to keep the past to yourself, as something shared only with the old me before I lost my memory?”

“No…”

“Tell me the truth. That’s what it seems like to me, and I can’t think of any other reason!”

The words came down like a shout, and Fujishima shrank back. He didn’t want to reveal the past. He didn’t want to become lovers. He wanted things to stay as they were. He wanted to keep living with Tohru as he was now, who said he loved him. It was enough that Tohru had once said he loved him. He didn’t need any more happiness, just as he didn’t want any more misery.

Tohru knelt in front of Fujishima, who was hunched over.

“Please tell me about the old me.”

Tohru grasped Fujishima’s hands tightly in his own.

“Tell me where we met and what you liked about me. If I can know that, it will connect the old me with who I am now…”

Tohru looked at him intently.

“If I know everything about the past and still say I love you, then there’s no problem. I’m still me. Even if I regain my memory, I won’t stop liking you. I might even wonder why I didn’t like you before.”

Even though Tohru was saying that now, Fujishima couldn’t believe that the old Tohru, who had looked at him with such disdain, would easily forgive him.

“I…”

He was the first person Fujishima had ever loved. He couldn’t forget him, even if he wanted to.

“I…”

His teeth chattered so much that they didn’t align. As he struggled to speak, tears began to spill from his eyes. The tears, flowing endlessly, splashed onto Tohru’s hands, which were holding his.

“Wh-why are you crying?”

Tohru hurriedly leaned in to peer at Fujishima’s face.

“Please, don’t cry.”

Even though he knew he shouldn’t trouble Tohru, the tears wouldn’t stop. It felt as though a voiceless cry was seeping out.

“I’m sorry…”

“You don’t need to apologize!”

Even when he pressed his hands to his eyes, the tears flowed down his palms. Tohru, pacing around Fujishima like a bear, suddenly ran out of the room. Fujishima heard the front door slam shut.

Left alone, the loneliness of being abandoned made the tears flow even more. After a while, the overwhelming emotions began to subside. When he touched his eyelids with his fingers, he realized they were swollen and puffy. Just as he stood up to wash his face, he heard the sound of hurried footsteps running down the hallway.

Tohru burst into the living room and rushed straight to the kitchen. He noisily rummaged through the cupboards, pulling out dishes so roughly that it seemed they might break. Fujishima watched, bewildered, as Tohru returned with a small plate in his hands, his expression tense.

"Th-this..."

Panting heavily, Tohru offered a slightly misshapen chocolate cake.

"I rushed back, so it got a bit messed up, but it's the old man’s special recipe, so the taste is guaranteed."

"...Thank you."

Though Fujishima expressed his gratitude, he didn’t take the plate. Even though it was his favorite cake, he didn’t feel like eating it at that moment.

"Sit down."

Tohru grabbed Fujishima’s right hand and forcefully made him sit on the sofa, then took a fork and scooped up a piece of the cake. He brought it to Fujishima’s mouth as if feeding a child. Hesitant and unsure of what to do, Fujishima reluctantly opened his mouth, and Tohru gently pushed the cake inside. Before Fujishima could even savor the taste, Tohru asked, "Is it good?"

"...Yeah."

As Fujishima chewed and responded, Tohru let out a relieved sigh and softly murmured, "I’m sorry."

"I’m sorry for asking you so many questions when you didn’t want to talk about it."

After apologizing, Tohru lowered his head.

"When I saw you crying, my mind just went blank, and I didn’t know what to do... I know it’s sneaky to try to cheer you up with something you like..."

But Fujishima had been comforted by that sneaky, sweet gesture. Just the fact that Tohru had rushed out to buy a cake because he saw Fujishima crying made him feel warm inside.

...After feeding Fujishima the cake, Tohru never again brought up wanting to know about the past.

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