Cold Light - Chapter 1 - Part 6
The day after he was discharged from the
hospital, Fujishima returned to work. After only half a year on the job, he had
taken a long sick leave. He couldn’t have complained if he’d been fired, but
apart from a brief sarcastic remark from his boss, his colleagues welcomed him
back warmly. Fujishima wasn’t particularly skilled or outspoken. His sales
performance wasn’t outstanding, and there were countless employees with his
level of ability. Still, he was grateful not to have been let go, both
emotionally and financially.
After transferring ownership of the company,
Fujishima was left with just this apartment and the funds needed for Tohru’s
tuition and fees for vocational school. He kept the money set aside, not
knowing when Tohru might express a desire to study again. Aside from that,
Fujishima’s savings were minimal.
He had read a lot of novels during his student
days, but after starting his job, he hardly picked up a book. Without any real
hobbies, his expenses were limited to food and a few miscellaneous costs.
Still, the thought of having no income at all was daunting. Tohru had tried
several times to give Fujishima his part-time earnings, saying they were for
food or utilities, but Fujishima had stubbornly refused. Even if it meant going
without food, he didn’t want to take money from Tohru.
Since the time he’d broken down in tears when Tohru
had pressured him to reveal the past, Tohru hadn’t asked about it again or
expressed any desire to become lovers. He also touched Fujishima less
frequently, though the decrease in physical contact didn’t make their
relationship feel distant. It seemed more like Tohru was being careful about
maintaining an appropriate distance. As for Fujishima, he often found himself
captivated by Tohru’s profile, feeling his heart stir... It was a small joy he
cherished daily, and his life hadn’t changed much from before.
As May passed with clear skies, June brought
more rain. On a Sunday morning, Tohru sighed repeatedly as he gazed up at the
gray rain clouds through the living room window.
The previous week, Tohru had suggested, "I
got Sunday off, so let’s go to the botanical garden in the next town to see the
hydrangeas." But when they woke up that morning, it was already drizzling.
Hoping they could still go out despite the weather, they started getting ready,
but the rain grew heavier as time passed, eventually turning into an
unrelenting downpour.
"It rained yesterday too, so we couldn’t
go for a walk."
Tohru curled up on the sofa like a sulking cat.
Recently, they had made it a habit to take evening walks along the riverbank
after dinner. Since they usually went out around 7 p.m., they often encountered
others walking their dogs or jogging along the riverside path.
A small river ran alongside the path, with
several old warehouse-like structures lining the opposite bank. At night, the
streetlights cast a dim, nostalgic glow over the area. If they walked earlier,
they could watch the streetlights flicker on one by one along the path.
Tohru had grown fond of this walk, and if it
wasn’t raining, he always urged Fujishima to join him. When they passed someone
with a dog, they would wonder together what breed it was. Their conversations
were always trivial, but they enjoyed them.
Knowing how much Tohru had been looking forward
to the trip to the botanical garden, even going so far as to buy ingredients
for a homemade lunch, Fujishima was at a loss for how to comfort him. The sound
of the rain echoed dully in the room, and Tohru’s profile was filled with
sighs. Fujishima regretted more than ever his lack of eloquence when it came to
offering comfort.
After a moment of thought, Fujishima went to
his room. He took one of the dozens of photo books from the shelf. Returning to
the living room, he handed it to Tohru, who was still lying on the sofa with a
gloomy expression.
“What’s this?”
Tohru tilted his head in curiosity.
“There are pictures of hydrangeas in here.”
After blinking in surprise, Tohru smiled with
delight and said, “Thank you.”
“Why don’t you look at them with me,
Fujishima?”
Tohru opened the photo book on the floor, and
Fujishima sat down opposite him, hugging his knees. The photo book, titled
“Flower Calendar,” showcased vibrant images of seasonal flowers. Tohru
carefully turned each page, stopping at a picture of sunflowers blooming in
clusters.
“When summer comes, I want to go camping. It
doesn’t matter if it’s by the sea or in the mountains, as long as we bring a
tent…”
“That sounds fun,” Fujishima replied with a
nod.
"Fujishima, do you mind sleeping in a
tent?" Tohru asked, looking up at him.
"I’m not sure... I’ve never had that
experience."
"You’ve never gone camping?"
Fujishima nodded slightly. He had been invited
during his student days, but his mother didn’t let him go because she thought
eating food prepared outdoors and sleeping outside was unsanitary.
"I’ll take care of everything, so let’s go
together in the summer."
"Alright."
Tohru insisted, “It’s a promise,” and Fujishima
replied with a simple "Yeah," while secretly hoping that these
peaceful times would last forever.
"This book, I have the same one,
right?"
"Yeah."
"I never really looked at it before, but
it’s beautiful."
When Tohru had his accident and moved out of
his apartment, Fujishima had cleaned up the place. Up until then, Fujishima’s
image of Tohru had been of someone with cold eyes, always ready to resort to
violence. The first time Fujishima entered Tohru’s room, he found it extremely
sparse, almost reflecting the desolate state of its occupant’s mind. The smell
of cigarette smoke had seeped into the walls, and the lampshade on the ceiling
was yellowed from nicotine.
In the dim, cramped room, there was one spot
with some color: nearly twenty photo books stacked up. It wasn’t the kind of
collection someone would have bought on a whim. Next to the books was a small
cardboard box, and when Fujishima looked inside, he found it stuffed with a
haphazard collection of photos. Until that moment, Fujishima hadn’t known that
photography was Tohru’s hobby. When he had been shown the shattered camera at
the accident scene, he hadn’t even wondered why it was in the car.
The photos in the box were mostly
landscapes—urban scenes, factories, and abandoned buildings that might easily
be overlooked. They weren’t exactly beautiful, but they had a certain
melancholy aura.
As Fujishima flipped through the photos, he
finally came across some that included people. They were pictures of a young
child. Suddenly, the melancholy faded, and Fujishima felt a warmth radiating
from the images. The child was smiling shyly at the camera, and Fujishima
sensed that Tohru, the photographer, had felt a similar shyness and
embarrassment, which made him smile as well.
Except for a few daily necessities and the
photo books, Fujishima had to dispose of all of Tohru’s belongings. The
refrigerator, which had likely been broken for who knows how long, and the torn
futon with stuffing coming out… these things had to go. He hesitated about what
to do with the box of photos, but in the end, he kept it. Those photos belonged
to the Tohru from before he lost his memory, to the past. Fujishima thought it
would be better for the current Tohru to take new photos for himself.
But perhaps that was just an excuse. He feared
that showing Tohru the photos might trigger the return of his memories. It
would be a lie to say that didn’t scare him.
The current Tohru didn’t touch a camera. He
didn’t seem to have any interest in photography at all.
"Okay!"
Suddenly, Tohru stood up.
"I’m going to make us a bento. Let’s have
a picnic here!"
Caught up in his own excitement, Tohru joyfully
prepared a cute bento in about thirty minutes. He pushed the sofa near the
window, laid out the photo book, and opened it to the page with the hydrangeas.
To enhance the atmosphere, he spread a picnic blanket on the floor and poured
tea into a thermos. It seemed excessive... To an outsider, it would have been
an absurd scene, but Fujishima found himself enjoying the situation, drawn in
by Tohru’s enthusiasm. They sat on the picnic blanket, eating the bento while
looking at the hydrangeas on the sofa. Tohru, gazing out the window, remarked
sarcastically, “The weather’s great today,” only to suddenly widen his eyes.
"...It’s clearing up..."
As if the morning’s downpour had been a lie,
the gray clouds parted, revealing the bright sun. The two of them exchanged
glances and burst out laughing. Even though the weather had cleared, they
continued their indoor picnic. With the window wide open, Fujishima lay on the
picnic blanket, looking up at the blue sky framed by the window.
"You’re amazing."
He muttered softly. Tohru seemed to notice and
leaned over to peer into his face.
"Why do you say that all of a
sudden?"
"It really feels like we went on a
picnic."
Tohru blushed and looked down, trying to hide
his red face. Fujishima, feeling drowsy from the soft sunlight, the pleasant
breeze, and a comfortable fullness, closed his eyes.
His light sleep was interrupted by the sound of
cars passing by. He felt a touch on his right hand and, glancing over, saw Tohru
gently holding his fingertips. He was tracing each fingernail with his thumb.
"Let’s go to lots of different
places."
Tohru’s face was downturned, so Fujishima
couldn’t see his expression. It wasn’t a question that expected a response.
"Let’s make so many memories that you
forget about the old me."
Fujishima’s heart ached as if it were being
squeezed.
"And then, I’ll make you say that I’m
better. That it’s better if my memories never return..."
Tohru slowly began to fall asleep, still
loosely holding Fujishima’s hand. Fujishima sat up and quietly watched the
sleeping man’s innocent face.
◇:-:◆:-:◇
After enjoying their pretend picnic and taking
a nap, Fujishima suggested they eat dinner out. He wanted Tohru to take a break
from cooking every morning and evening without rest. “It’s rare for you to
suggest going out,” Tohru said, delighted.
They left the apartment a little after 4 p.m.
because Tohru mentioned he wanted to do some shopping. Although the rain had
stopped, its remnants were evident in the black puddles and the people walking
with closed umbrellas. Tohru bought a T-shirt at the department store.
"Maybe I’ll take up photography."
Tohru said as he picked up a photo album in the
stationery section.
"Not seriously, but I’d like to have some
snapshots from our outings."
The camera Fujishima had given Tohru as a
Christmas present last year, which had been returned with a lack of interest,
was still sitting in the back of the closet. Although Tohru hadn’t shown any
interest in photography since losing his memory, Fujishima wondered if there
might still be some connection.
As they were descending the escalator, Tohru
suddenly exclaimed, “Oh!”
“Can we stop at the next floor?”
Once off the escalator, Tohru headed straight
for the kitchenware section. He eagerly examined the various cake molds,
picking them up and scrutinizing them.
"Hey, Fujishima, do you know what this
mold is for?"
Tohru held out a mold with a strange hole in
the center.
"...Not sure."
"It’s a mold for chiffon cake. I tried
making one at work once, but it failed and collapsed."
Even though he had been examining the mold so
intently, he carefully put it back in its place. When Fujishima asked if he was
going to buy it, Tohru shrugged and said, “I’ll study a bit more first.”
"My goal is to bake a big whole cake for
your birthday, Fujishima. And I’ll cover it with so much chocolate..."
While walking and talking with his head turned
to the side, Tohru suddenly let out a startled cry of "Whoa!" A small
girl bounced backward with a little hop.
"I-I'm sorry!"
Tohru hurriedly rushed over to the child who
had fallen backward after bumping into his own legs.
"Are you hurt? Are you okay?"
The child looked to be a little over three
years old... As soon as Tohru saw the girl's face while helping her up,
Fujishima felt like his breath stopped. The girl had wavy brown hair and big
eyes inherited from her mother. As the child got up, her eyes met Fujishima's.
The moment they both realized who they were, the child broke free from Tohru's
hand and leaped onto Fujishima's leg.
"Daddy!"
There was no doubt; this was the daughter he
had parted ways with nine months ago. What was she doing here…? Fujishima's
mind went into a panic. He lifted his crying daughter into his arms, just as he
used to.
"Maho, please don't cry so much..."
His daughter's face, which he hadn't seen in so
long, was bright red from crying, including her cheeks and the tip of her nose.
"Where's Mommy?"
"I don't know."
Still sobbing, she clung tightly to Fujishima's
neck. She rubbed her soft cheek against him like a cat.
"Why don't you come home, Daddy?"
Her innocent question tightened Fujishima's
chest.
"Maho, I've been waiting for you all this
time..."
Tohru, who was standing across from them, had a
stunned look on his face. He put a hand on his forehead and let out a weak,
nervous laugh.
"Um, so... Fujishima-san, are you..."
"Ah! It's Mommy!"
Maho shouted, and Tohru jumped in surprise.
"Mommy! I found Daddy!"
When they turned around, there stood Emi, the
woman who had once been his wife. She had her long hair tied back and was
wearing her favorite navy blue dress with a white cardigan. Emi blinked in
surprise, quickly walked over, and smiled warmly. "I didn't expect to see
you here. Are you alone?"
"...No, I'm with someone."
Emi's gaze shifted past Fujishima's shoulder,
landing on Tohru.
"He's young. Someone from your
company?"
Fujishima had never told his ex-wife about his
past, nor had he ever discussed it.
"No, it's not work-related. It's
just..."
"Um..."
When he turned around, Tohru had a stiff
expression, like a Noh mask.
"I'm leaving now. Fujishima-san, please
take your time. Thank you for spending today with me," he said with a
polite tone. He slightly bowed his head and slipped past Fujishima. Even if he
wanted to stop him, he couldn't run after him while holding Maho. Tohru quickly
hopped onto the escalator as if escaping, and he disappeared from sight in no
time. Seeing all this, Fujishima could only guess what he must have thought...
something he didn't want to imagine.
"Keishi..."
Being called by his name brought him back to
reality. Fujishima, who had been staring at the escalator where Tohru had
disappeared, had completely forgotten about the family standing in front of
him.
"I'm glad we met. I was having trouble
since we lost contact. There's something I want to talk about; do you have a
moment now?"
Though he was concerned about Tohru, he
couldn't leave his ex-wife, who wanted to talk, and his daughter clinging to
him, to go back.
Still holding Maho, Fujishima entered the
department store's tea room. Maho, unwilling to be separated, refused to move
from Fujishima's lap. Even when Emi sternly scolded their unyielding daughter,
Maho stubbornly shook her head, her eyes welling up with tears.
“Because Maho loves Daddy so much…”
As Fujishima stroked his daughter’s back, he
was overwhelmed with guilt. Less than a month after Tohru's accident, Fujishima
had divorced his wife. When he begged Emi on his knees, asking her to “Please
let me go,” Emi, with a pained expression, said, “Let me think about it.” After
about a week of consideration and agonizing, she granted Fujishima his selfish
request.
Emi was a woman Fujishima’s mother had
introduced as a potential wife. She was two years older than him, came from a
good family, and had hobbies like flower arranging, playing the piano, and
cooking—she was the picture of the perfect wife and mother. Fujishima didn’t
have a strong reason to refuse, so he got married at twenty-four, encouraged by
those around him, and the following year, Maho was born.
Although it felt like a forced marriage, things
had gone well. Except for one thing—Fujishima couldn’t bring himself to have
sex with Emi. Emi knew how much Fujishima was struggling with this, and that’s
precisely why she agreed to his selfish desire to separate without even asking
for a reason.
From the month after they registered their
marriage, Fujishima’s mother asked him almost every day, “Isn’t there a baby
yet?” He couldn’t bring himself to say that he couldn’t have sex with his wife,
and the stress was so intense that he felt like a hole might burn through his
stomach. Knowing that his mother’s desire for a grandchild was merely her wish
for an heir for the Fujishima family made it even more painful.
Maho was conceived by taking advantage of his
body’s natural response in the morning; it wasn’t what one would call proper
sex. He tried it once, but the act, which felt like an obligation without
pleasure, only increased the emptiness, leaving both Fujishima and Emi
emotionally scarred. After that, they never did it that way again. But even
once was enough to conceive a child.
Emi took a sip of her Earl Grey tea, which she
had always said she liked.
“I’m glad to see you’re doing well. Your mother
said you hadn’t returned home, so I’ve been worried about you all this time. I
wondered if you were eating properly. You’re not someone who knows how to cook,
after all.”
“Or have you found someone new?” Emi added with
a playful smile. It was a gentle smile. He had thought he could love this smart
and beautiful woman. And he did love her, but it was a little different from
how he felt about Tohru.
“I can say this now, but at first, I was a
little scared of you. You always had such a serious look on your face and
rarely smiled. But as we went on dates, I realized that while you were quiet,
you were sincere and kind... and I fell in love with you.”
Emi lowered her eyes.
“You were very kind to Maho and me. You took
great care of us. I even thought that as long as we could be together, it
didn’t matter if we couldn’t love each other as husband and wife.”
A beautiful, thoughtful wife and a cute
daughter... It must have seemed like an ideal family.
“When you said you wanted a divorce, to be
honest, I was very shocked. But I also knew you were troubled by the lack of
intimacy between us and that you felt guilty toward me because of it. So when I
thought that becoming strangers might make things easier for you and that it
might help me regain my confidence as a woman, I felt a bit relieved. I hated
myself for thinking that way, though…”
Perhaps exhausted from playing, Maho began to
doze off in Fujishima’s arms.
“After that, I moved far away. I’ve also found
someone I love. He’s older, but he’s cute like a child. He’s very fond of Maho
too. His family home is near here, so today we visited his parents… Next year,
I’m going to marry him. So there’s no need for you to pay child support for
Maho anymore.”
“Let’s both be happy this time,” Emi said with
a small smile.
◇:-:◆:-:◇
Happiness, it seems, is a difficult word to
define. That’s what Fujishima thought as he made his way home alone after
parting ways with his ex-wife. In reality, it felt like everyone who had ever
been called his family was somehow unhappy. His father, Tohru, Emi—even his
mother was no exception.
He had often wondered why his father had never
tried to leave his mother despite their hostile relationship. Despite her
selfishness, it seemed his father loved her. Now, there was no way to be
sure... It wasn’t as if his father had entirely ignored him. Without ever
revealing the truth, his father went to his grave with Fujishima still as “his
son.” That seemed to be the fullest extent of his father’s love.
Six months after his father’s funeral,
Fujishima’s mother, freed from the chains of marriage, remarried. Her new
husband was a man she had been having an affair with since before his father
had passed away, someone she had met at a ballroom dance class. When she
formally introduced the man to her son, she emphasized his high education and
his position as the president of a food company, and lastly, she boasted with a
proud smile, “He’s from a noble family.”
After remarrying and leaving the house, his
mother pressured Fujishima to get married. She repeatedly insisted that he
should settle down as soon as possible. She wanted someone to carry on the
Fujishima family name after herself and after her son.
Following her advice, Fujishima married and
walked the path his mother wanted. Then, in the summer when Fujishima was
twenty-eight, Tohru had an accident.
To help Tohru, who had caused the accident,
Fujishima used his status and power as a company president to the fullest.
Knowing money was needed, he didn’t hesitate to sell off the indigo dyeing
techniques that had been handed down for decades to another company. When this
seemingly irrational behavior caused the company executives to panic, and they
contacted his mother, everything had already ended. Leaving his hysterical
mother behind, Fujishima fled to this city with just enough money to get by,
along with a blank-slate Tohru...
If his father hadn’t been in an accident
overseas that left him paralyzed, if he had been able to have children, if his
mother hadn’t been so fixated on “family background” and “bloodline”... maybe
his parents could have been happy. But if that were the case, he wouldn’t have
been born, and he wouldn’t have met Tohru. At this point, he couldn’t even
judge what was good or bad.
By the time he got back to his apartment, it
was past 8 p.m. At their parting, Maho had fussed and wouldn’t let go of his
hand, and trying to calm her down had delayed him. Honestly, he was more
concerned about the man who had left earlier than his own blood-related
daughter crying right in front of him.
The entrance was dark. He thought maybe Tohru
wasn’t home yet, but when he turned on the light, Tohru’s shoes were lying by
the entrance. The hallway and the living room were also dark and silent. There
was no sense that anyone was there. Fujishima went to the door of Tohru’s room
but couldn’t bring himself to knock. He didn’t know how to start the
conversation.
Unable to call out to him, Fujishima returned
to the living room and sat on the sofa. He picked up a photo album that had
been left behind from their picnic earlier in the day. Flipping through it
absently, he wondered where Tohru’s happiness lay. Where was a future where Tohru
could feel truly happy? Fujishima was content with the current situation.
Living with someone he loved who said he loved him—there was no greater
happiness than this. But what about Tohru?
Emi found happiness after separating from him.
In the end, that was probably the right decision. But what if the same could be
said for Tohru? He didn’t want to betray the man Tohru was before he lost his
memory. He didn’t want to get hurt after loving each other. Either way, if Tohru
stayed with him without intending to reciprocate his feelings, he might be
happier with someone else.
The situation was different from right after
the accident when Tohru had lost his memory. He was now working at a place he
chose, and if he wanted to, he could live on his own. He could manage even
without Fujishima. Perhaps it would be better if he wasn’t there...
The sound of footsteps came from the hallway.
Fujishima looked up from the photo album to see Tohru standing in the doorway
to the living room. He stood still, his head slightly lowered. After a moment,
he slowly walked in and sat down opposite Fujishima.
“Did you eat anything?” he asked quietly.
“No.”
“Sorry, I don’t feel like cooking today.”
“It’s fine. I’ll go buy something outside.”
As Fujishima stood up, Tohru hurriedly reached
out and grabbed his right hand, saying, “Wait.” When Fujishima flinched, Tohru,
as if confused, let go of his hand.
“I have something I want to ask you...”
Looking down, Tohru clasped his hands together
near his chest.
“Fujishima-san, um...”
His voice trembled as he asked,
“Are you... married?”
He was about to say that he was divorced but
hesitated. If he pretended to be married, it might give Tohru a reason to give
up on him.
“Yes,” he lied.
Tohru muttered, “I see...” and ran his short
bangs through his fingers in frustration.
“If you had told me sooner, I wouldn’t have
caused you so much trouble.”
Tohru suddenly lifted his head and smiled a
little.
“Your wife is beautiful, isn’t she?”
Speaking in a voice that was too loud, Tohru
said, "That little girl is cute too."
Even though he was trying to act cheerful, his
fingers, tightly clenched, were trembling. It was obvious that he was forcing
himself, and the sight of it was so painful that Fujishima couldn’t help but
avert his eyes. As the words trailed off, silence filled the room. A heavy,
bitter feeling seemed to linger in the air, wrapping around Fujishima like a
shroud.
"Fujishima-san, don't you have someone at
home who can cook delicious meals for you? So why do you stay with me?"
He couldn’t answer.
"Do you pity me because I lost my
memory?"
"…That might be true."
"If it’s just pity, then that’s fine. But
if that's the case, you shouldn't say you 'love' me. You shouldn’t make a face
like you love me."
Feeling cornered and with no way out, Fujishima
looked down.
"Everyone gets hurt, don't they? Your
family... and me too."
The words Tohru threw at him hurt his chest.
From Tohru's perspective, Fujishima must have seemed like someone with low
moral standards, unable to hide his feelings for another person despite having
a family. Even if he wanted to say that he always cared about Tohru and loved
him even after starting a family, it would just sound like a selfish excuse.
"Say something, please."
All he could do was apologize, saying,
"I'm sorry." Suddenly, Tohru stood up and left the living room. The
fear of 'losing him' suddenly overwhelmed Fujishima, and he was seized by the
urge to chase after Tohru and tell him the truth. But he gritted his teeth and
held back.
If Tohru became disgusted with his low morals
and shallowness and decided to distance himself, then that would be fine. That
would be for the best, Fujishima kept telling himself over and over.
◇:-:◆:-:◇
The next morning, even after waking up,
Fujishima found it hard to leave his room. He felt awkward about facing Tohru.
However, he couldn’t afford to take a day off after such a long sick leave, so
he started getting ready twenty minutes later than usual.
When he went to the kitchen, there was already
no sign of anyone, and a solitary breakfast was sitting on the table. Next to
the plate, there was a note that read, "I’m heading to work first."
Eating breakfast alone, with no one to talk to, Fujishima thought to himself
that if Tohru left, mornings like this would become his everyday reality.
At night, when Fujishima returned home, Tohru
was in the kitchen, cooking. Seeing his back, Fujishima felt a quiet sense of
relief. While Fujishima was changing clothes in his room, Tohru called out,
"Dinner's ready." But when he went to the kitchen, there was only one
serving prepared.
"I already ate with a friend," Tohru
said, leaving the kitchen as soon as Fujishima sat down at the table. Just like
in the morning, while eating alone, Fujishima’s mind wandered. The only friend
he could think of was the college student Tohru had met while working part-time
at a convenience store. Fujishima had never heard Tohru mention eating out with
that friend. He had said that after switching to a job at a bakery, they didn’t
see each other as often as before.
Was the friend he ate with that college
student? Did Tohru have friends Fujishima didn’t know about? Or… was Tohru just
saying he ate with a friend because he didn’t want to face Fujishima?
The sound of his chewing and swallowing echoed
in his ears. He thought he heard the faint sound of rain, so he stopped eating.
Then, suddenly, the sound of rain grew louder and resonated throughout the
room.
Since he wasn’t much of an eater to begin with,
once he stopped eating, he lost the desire to eat entirely. Still, because Tohru
had gone to the trouble of making it for him, he forced himself to continue,
but eventually, he began to feel nauseous. He ended up leaving most of it, and
feeling guilty, he quietly threw it away in the trash. While he was washing the
dishes, Tohru came back into the kitchen. He hadn’t noticed Tohru’s presence
because of the running water.
“I’ll do the washing,” Tohru said, pushing
Fujishima toward the living room sofa. After quickly cleaning up the dishes, Tohru
took a cake box out of the refrigerator.
“The only thing left today was an éclair. Sorry
about that.”
Tohru placed the éclair and some coffee on a
tray and brought it to the living room, setting it on the table. “Just leave
the dirty dishes in the sink,” he said before leaving the room.
Once again, Fujishima was alone. He stared
blankly at the dessert he loved and the fragrant coffee. When he finally came
to his senses, the steam had vanished from the coffee, and the cup had gone
cold. When he took a sip, only the bitterness lingered on his tongue. He put
the éclair, plate and all, back in the refrigerator.
Fujishima left the living room and headed
straight for Tohru’s room. When he knocked on the door, there was a flurry of
hurried footsteps rushing toward it.
“Oh, what is it? Are you done eating?”
“…I didn’t eat the éclair.”
With his mouth half open, Tohru frowned.
“Wasn’t it good?”
“That’s not it… I just don’t have much of an
appetite lately. It’s always like this at this time of year… So, from tomorrow,
no more desserts. I feel bad if I can’t eat them, like today.”
The look of distress on Tohru’s face lasted
only for a moment.
“You don’t have to worry about it. It’s just
leftovers that would’ve been thrown away anyway…”
“Even so, there’s no need to bring something
back if I can’t eat it.”
He could see his words creating a tense
atmosphere. Knowing this, he continued speaking, pushing even further.
"From tomorrow on, you don’t have to
prepare meals for me."
Tohru turned pale instantly.
"Why?"
"As I mentioned before, there's no need
for you to be in the kitchen just for me."
"But today... well, it just happened to be
this way..."
The hesitation in Tohru's voice suggested that
what he was calling a coincidence was actually intentional.
"I understand that you’re trying to be
considerate of me. But I also want to be considerate of you. That’s why I want
us to have separate meals."
Without any warning, Tohru suddenly slammed the
door shut right in front of Fujishima. The gust from the door’s closure rustled
his bangs. Standing there, Fujishima felt the sting of the obvious, visible
rejection. After quite a while, he thought he should say something else but didn’t.
If they stopped eating together, they would see each other less often...
Distance would grow between them.
The next morning, Fujishima woke up later than
usual. He had trouble falling asleep the night before because he had too many
thoughts running through his mind. The sleep he did get was shallow, and he had
an unpleasant dream. He couldn’t remember the dream itself, just the vague
feeling that it was unpleasant.
He got out of bed and heard a knock on the
door.
“Fujishima-san, are you awake? You’re going to
be late for work!”
“I’m awake,” he replied, opening the door, but Tohru
was already gone. The fact that Tohru had spoken to him as if nothing had
happened, despite what happened the previous day, felt strange. He had expected
Tohru to be angrier, maybe even mad enough to let his roommate oversleep and be
late.
After washing his face, Fujishima returned to
his room and changed into his suit. When he stepped into the hallway, he heard
noises coming from the kitchen. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted in.
He hesitated. But it felt wrong to leave without saying anything, so he stepped
into the living room.
“Oh, good morning.”
Tohru’s voice was cheerful.
“I made breakfast. Do you have time to eat?”
On the table was a simple breakfast of toast,
coffee, and salad.
“I thought I said yesterday—don’t cook for me—”
Tohru cut him off with a loud voice.
“It’s just something I made while I was at it.
I’m not cooking just for you. If you have time, sit down… the coffee’s going to
get cold.”
Encouraged, Fujishima sat down on a chair. Tohru,
still wearing his apron, sat across from him. As they began to eat, Tohru, who
had been acting cheerful, suddenly fell silent. While nibbling on his toast,
Fujishima tried to recall their past breakfasts. He wondered what they used to
talk about since the silence felt so noticeable now.
As he left the apartment and walked to work,
Fujishima thought about why Tohru continued to make breakfast despite being
told they should eat separately. Why lie about it being ‘while I was at it’?
Without needing to think deeply, it was clear Tohru understood—if they stopped
eating together, there would be no reason to see each other...
That night, after work, Fujishima came home to
find dinner prepared for two. He no longer said, “You don’t have to cook just
for me,” because he already knew what Tohru’s response would be. Just as
before, Tohru talked aimlessly about what had happened that day.
Eventually, Tohru seemed to get tired of
talking and let out a small sigh, looking downward.
"Is this friend... a woman?"
At the question, Tohru looked up.
“...Friend? What friend?”
“You said you had dinner with a friend
yesterday… is it a woman?”
“Why are you asking?”
He replied irritably but didn’t answer the
question. Maybe the story about having dinner with a friend was a lie. Knowing
this, Fujishima deliberately chose words to provoke him.
“I just thought it would be better if your
friend was a woman.”
Tohru’s expression changed. His irritated face
turned to one of obvious anger.
“Why would it be better if it were a woman?”
“No reason beyond the words themselves.”
There was a sharp sound as Tohru put his
chopsticks down on the table.
“Are you saying it would be better if I were
dating a woman? Fujishima-san, you know how I feel, don’t you? Knowing that,
how can you say something like that?”
“Well—”
Tohru roughly ran his fingers through his hair,
stomping his right foot nervously. The sound of his footsteps echoed through
the room, growing gradually fainter.
“I…”
Still looking down, Tohru muttered.
“I’ve thought a lot… but I don’t know what to
do.”
He looked up from under his eyebrows.
“What do you want, Fujishima-san? You ignore
your family to take care of me… and then what? What are you planning to do
after that?”
All he had considered was making sure Tohru
could do what he wanted and find happiness.
“You didn’t have to live with me, leaving your
family behind. It would have been enough to check in on me occasionally. I lost
my memory, but I could have lived on my own. Or did you want to be with me?”
His words brushed against the core of the
issue. If there was even a 1% chance of that being true, he couldn’t deny it.
Fujishima spoke, looking directly into Tohru’s eyes.
“When it looks like you can live independently,
I plan to return home.”
Tohru lowered his head and mumbled, “…I see.”
He stayed like that for a while, but suddenly, with a loud bang, he stood up
from his chair and hurried out of the living room. He didn’t come back even
after ten or twenty minutes, leaving his meal half-finished.
Where there is a beginning, there must be an
end. Was that a line from a novel or a song lyric he read long ago? Such a
thought came to mind. If moving in together was the beginning, then when would
the end be? Even though he was the one creating an atmosphere that hinted at an
ending, Fujishima felt as if he were an observer of someone else’s life.
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