Cold Fever - Chapter 1 - Part 7

The content warning is in the footnotes⁰.

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The day after Fujishima returned from Izu, Tohru went to the library and looked through old newspapers. The headline about the accident six years ago wasn’t that prominent. There were no pictures; it just described the accident in a straightforward manner. The victim’s name was mentioned, but Tohru’s was not. Reading it without any preconceptions, it might have seemed like the victim was at fault.

The next day, Tohru skipped school and went back to the town where he used to live. He went to the police station and asked for the address of the man who had died in the traffic accident six years ago, but they wouldn’t tell him. Tohru walked to the main road where the accident had supposedly occurred. But he couldn’t remember where exactly the accident had happened.

Halfway down the road, Tohru placed some flowers. As he stood there, looking down at the guardrail, his hair was blown by the draft of a passing truck. He turned around slowly. He thought that if a car came barreling toward him right now and he died, he wouldn’t have any regrets.

He didn’t know how long he stood there. As the sun began to set, Tohru slowly started to walk away. The wind was cold.

It was past 10 p.m. when Tohru returned to the apartment building. He took off his shoes and stepped into the hallway, heading straight to his room. He lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. He felt a bit tired from all the walking. Even if he thought about wanting to meet the man’s family and apologize or visit the grave, it might have all just been for his own satisfaction.

What kind of man had he killed? He must have had parents, a sister... He certainly led a more decent life than Tohru. If it were possible, maybe he could switch places with him. In his mind, Tohru spoke to the person whose face he didn’t know. If it were possible to swap places, he would die in his stead and let him live…

There was a knock on the door. Tohru abruptly sat up in bed. The knocking repeated, but he didn’t respond.

“There was a call for you this evening,” Fujishima said quietly. “It was someone named Mr. Sakaue. He was asking why you were absent from school… That’s all.”

Tohru heard the floor creak, indicating Fujishima had returned to his room after delivering the message. After his presence faded, Tohru opened the door. As expected, Fujishima was no longer there.

Since the day before yesterday, when Tohru had beaten and kicked Fujishima, he hadn’t looked him in the eye. If he saw his face, he would end up hitting him again, driven by an inexplicable irritation that he couldn’t control. He couldn’t rule out the possibility that one day he might lose control completely and beat Fujishima to death. That was why he was deliberately avoiding him.

Maybe it would be better if he left this place. That thought had crossed his mind several times. It might be better for both Fujishima and himself to live apart. But he didn’t have the courage to sever all ties.

He left his room and walked down the hallway. Stopping in front of Fujishima’s door, he stared at it. He had wrecked and destroyed Fujishima’s room, but he still hadn’t apologized. No matter how many times he apologized in his heart, he just couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

In the end, Tohru couldn’t say anything and returned to his room. Even when he pulled the sheets over his head and closed his eyes, all he could think about was the dead man and Fujishima.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Since the start of October, Tohru had been attending vocational school more diligently, despite previously skipping classes. When he was immersed in photography, the thoughts about the man he had killed and Fujishima seemed to fade a little.

At school, they had a monthly assignment to submit. Tohru's work was always criticized by the instructor as “self-centered.” The angles were good, and the images were beautiful, but they said his photos lacked heart. At first, it made him angry. But after hearing the same thing over and over, his feelings became numb, and he stopped getting angry. He thought that the reason his photos lacked emotion was because there was nothing inside him to convey. He accepted this with a sense of indifference.

At the beginning of November, a paired assignment was given. The theme was “Yin and Yang.” The pairs were chosen by the instructor, and Tohru was paired with a nineteen-year-old girl named Eguchi. Tohru was good at still life photography, while Eguchi specialized in portraiture. To submit a cohesive project, they had to decide on a shared motif.

They couldn’t come to an agreement during the free time at school, so they visited each other’s homes a few times. Eguchi had many siblings, and her house was always noisy, so they usually met at Tohru’s apartment. After much deliberation, they decided on the motif of “animals,” contrasting pets with animals raised for food to fit the theme of “Yin and Yang.”

In mid-November, with the submission deadline approaching, they finalized their project in Tohru’s room. After a lot of hesitation, they decided on two photos: one of a cow hanging by its ribs in a slaughterhouse freezer and another of a young girl holding a rabbit in her arms, smiling. When placed side by side, the two images created a terribly ironic contrast.

“So, Tohru-kun, please take care of the submission tomorrow,” Eguchi said at the front door, giving a thumbs-up.

“I don’t mind submitting it, but… Do you want a ride? It’s past eleven.”

Eguchi replied, “I’m fine. I’m on a scooter,” and reached for the doorknob. At that moment, the door was pulled open from the outside, and Eguchi let out a small scream, “Ah!”

Fujishima appeared in the open doorway. He must have just returned from work and gone to the convenience store. He wasn’t wearing a coat over his white shirt.

Fujishima opened his mouth slightly, looking surprised, but when he met Eguchi’s eyes, he quickly muttered, “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry! See you, Tohru-kun,” Eguchi said as she left.

Fujishima watched Eguchi's departing figure with his eyes. When the door closed and they were alone, the atmosphere became awkward, and Tohru quickly retreated to his room.

The next day, Tohru had a part-time job, and he didn’t return to the apartment until after 2 a.m. Too tired to bother taking a shower, he collapsed onto his bed, intending to sleep right away… But then he heard a knock on the door.

“I need to talk to you.”

It had been a long time since Fujishima had spoken to him directly. Tohru glanced at the clock again. It was 2:15 a.m.… too late for a conversation. The fact that Fujishima had chosen such a late hour to speak to him piqued his curiosity.

“If you don’t want to respond, you don’t have to. I just want you to listen.”

Tohru got up from the bed and quietly approached the door.

“It’s been almost a year since you got your memory back. It seems like you’ve gotten used to living here, so I think it’s about time we start living apart.”

In an instant, Tohru’s body froze.

“Even now, we’re living our own separate lives in the same place, so it’s practically like living alone. Of course, I’ll continue to provide financial support until you graduate from vocational school and become independent.”

Tohru flung the door open. Fujishima, wearing pajamas, flinched in surprise. But that expression quickly turned into a blank look that revealed nothing of what he was thinking.

“Are you planning to kick me out as soon as I become a burden?” Tohru demanded.

Fujishima looked up at Tohru with dark, emotionless eyes. “I’ve never thought of you as a burden. I’ll continue to support you financially… but there’s no reason for us to live together.”

No reason to stay together… Tohru thought about that. Even though they lived under the same roof, they didn’t talk or have sex like before. Indeed, there was no reason for them to be together.

“I’m not leaving. I’m staying right here,” Tohru blurted out.

The words that came out of his mouth were the opposite of what he had been thinking.

“Photography costs a lot of money. No matter how much you promise to support me, if we live apart, you might end up abandoning me. I’m worried too, you know.”

It was a flimsy excuse. Even if they lived apart, Tohru didn’t think Fujishima would abandon him. Moreover, Tohru had nearly six million yen left from the money Satoko Kinoshita had left behind. He didn’t actually need Fujishima’s support anymore. But he had no intention of revealing that.

The man, unaware of anything, muttered solemnly, "I’ll try my best to support you so that you don’t have to worry."

No matter what Tohru said, Fujishima was speaking as if “moving out” was a foregone conclusion.

“I’ve thought for a while now that it might be better this way, but we just never had the right moment.”

His words trailed off, and there was a pause. Fujishima looked down. Even back when Tohru was hitting him and forcing him into rough sex, he had never told him to “leave.” So why now, when he hadn’t done anything, was this conversation about him moving out happening?

“You must have someone you like,” Fujishima said.

He looked at Fujishima in surprise, and Fujishima lifted his head. It almost looked like he was smiling.

“I’ve seen that girl’s shoes in the entryway a few times.”

It finally dawned on Tohru what Fujishima was getting at.

“What are you talking about?”

“I think it’s natural for you to have a romantic relationship. I just thought that might make living here a bit suffocating…”

It sounded like a convenient excuse.

“And now, it seems like you don’t need me for anything other than financial support. Please, think about the idea of living separately. I’m asking you.”

With that, Fujishima bowed his head to Tohru.

“I’m sorry for bothering you so late… Good night.”

Fujishima turned to leave. Without thinking, Tohru grabbed his right arm as he tried to walk away. He pulled the confused man into the room.

“W-what’s going on…?”

Tohru didn’t know what to say. But he knew that things couldn’t stay like this, and that made him anxious. He roughly pulled Fujishima’s hesitant body closer, and he caught a faint scent of him. It had been a long time since he’d smelled the man’s body odor, and just that made him feel like his blood was rushing through his veins twice as fast. Without saying a word, Tohru pushed Fujishima down onto the bed.

“T-Tohru…”

He climbed on top of him.

“S-stop it!”

Underneath him, Fujishima struggled.

“You can’t do this if you have someone you like…”

Fujishima hid his face with his right hand, desperately resisting. Tohru suddenly realized—could it be that Fujishima thought he had a girlfriend and was feeling jealous? Could it be that’s why he suggested living separately?

The unexpected cuteness of the thought made his lower body throb. The rational part of his mind, already severed by Fujishima’s scent, was now completely out of control. Tohru slipped his fingers under Fujishima’s pajama waistband and grabbed Fujishima’s genitals, lying beneath the pubic hair, with a firm grip.

“No! Stop it!” Fujishima kicked his legs in resistance, forcing Tohru to let go. Fujishima fell off the bed and tried to crawl away on all fours. Tohru jumped on him from behind, pinning him down. Held down from behind, unable to resist, Fujishima flailed his arms helplessly.

“Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you,” Tohru coaxed.

Even as Tohru tried to soothe him, Fujishima continued to resist. Tohru bit down on Fujishima’s pale neck.

“Ow…”

For a moment, Fujishima stopped moving. Taking advantage of the pause, Tohru licked the bitten neck, and Fujishima’s back shuddered.

“Please… I’m begging you… Please, just…”

“I’ll finish quickly,” Tohru whispered into Fujishima’s ear. Then he pulled Fujishima’s clothes down, along with his underwear, to his knees.

“No, no!” Fujishima shouted, even in this situation. Tohru thought his persistence was ridiculous, but he simply believed that once he was inside, Fujishima would calm down. He positioned himself at Fujishima’s entrance.

“Help me… help me… Tohru,” Fujishima muttered in a faint voice. Even though his name was being called, it didn’t sound like his name to him. Tohru stopped pushing his hips forward.

“Tohru… Tohru…”

Who exactly was Fujishima calling out to? Who was he asking for help? Sensing that Tohru had stopped moving, Fujishima slipped out from under him and dashed out of the room without a second glance. With his pants pulled down and still erect, Tohru sat down on the floor in a daze.

Fujishima had genuinely hated it and asked for help. But that plea wasn’t directed at “himself.” It wasn’t directed at the current him.

He thought Fujishima loved him. He thought so all this time. But… had Fujishima really been looking at “him”?

Tohru stood up and impulsively punched the wall with his fist. No matter what he did, Fujishima had always stayed by his side. So Tohru thought that meant he was loved. But… was that really because Fujishima loved him?

He felt terrified, wondering if maybe he wasn’t needed by anyone at all.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The next day, after waiting for Fujishima to leave for work, Tohru entered his room. Since the time he had wrecked it during the Izu trip, this was the first time he had come in.

The curtains and bed covers, once a pale green, had been replaced with white, giving the room a completely unfamiliar appearance. The torn books were probably thrown away, as the gaps in the bookshelf were noticeable, making the undecorated room seem even more barren.

Tohru walked straight to the desk and pulled open the bottom drawer. He grabbed the pocket album, the bag containing the Polaroids, and the negatives, and threw them all into a garbage bag. He then took the bag down to the building’s trash disposal area just as the garbage truck arrived. As the rollers spun with a loud whirring sound, his six-year self vanished. Serves you right, he thought.

Later that day, while Tohru was washing dirty dishes at the pub where he worked part-time, the manager called him over. Annoyed, expecting more useless complaints from the unpleasant man, he approached, only to have the manager point at the back door. “You’ve got a visitor. They’re waiting at the back.”

“Who is it?” Tohru asked, and the manager shrugged, “Dunno. But they seemed like it was urgent.”

Tohru stepped outside through the back door and found Fujishima standing there. He was still in his suit, probably having come straight from work, but he wasn’t carrying his bag.

“Sorry to bother you during work, but I really need to ask you something,” Fujishima said, his face pale and his voice trembling.

“You took the photos that were in my desk, didn’t you? ...Please, I want them back.”

Tohru frowned.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He turned his face away and tried to go back inside the store, but Fujishima grabbed his right arm tightly.

“I can’t think of anyone else who would take them. Please, I’m begging you, give them back.”

“Shut up. Don’t make such a big deal over some photos. Besides, those were ‘my’ photos. I can do whatever I want with them.”

Tohru jerked his arm free, and Fujishima, looking like he was about to cry, suddenly dropped to his knees on the concrete.

“Please… please give them back.”

Fujishima’s head was bowed so low it was nearly rubbing against the concrete. Tohru stared at him coldly.

The sight of a man groveling and begging for the return of erotic photos that were so humiliating he’d never even want to look at them made Tohru feel sick to his stomach. He noticed a few people passing by on the side street, glancing over at Fujishima, who was still kneeling on the ground. Tohru let out a long sigh.

"I threw them away," he said curtly. Fujishima lifted his head and muttered, "Threw them away…?"

"It’s trash day," Tohru continued. "So, yeah, I tossed them."

“N-no, you’re lying…” Fujishima shook his head violently. “That’s not true…”

“If you think I’m lying, go search the whole house. Not that you’ll find anything.”

The moment he heard that, Fujishima took off running. His figure quickly disappeared down the street. Tohru returned to the restaurant and silently washed the dishes that were brought in one after another. Even though he tried to act normally, his mind was elsewhere. He ended up breaking two plates, something he had never done before. Seeing this, the manager moved him to the floor. When taking orders, he misheard and sent dishes to the kitchen that hadn’t been ordered, getting yelled at for his mistakes. Fed up with the nitpicky manager, Tohru pretended to feel unwell and asked to leave early. “Man, you part-timers sure have it easy,” the manager grumbled sarcastically.

In the end, Tohru left early and returned to the apartment. The entryway was dark, and Fujishima’s shoes were nowhere to be seen. He searched the entire place, but Fujishima wasn’t there. When he called the cell phone number that Kusuda had given him before, he heard the ringtone coming from nearby. Fujishima had left his cell phone on his desk and hadn’t taken it with him.

Tohru had no idea where Fujishima might have gone. He might have left for good and might never come back. Even when Tohru had smashed his computer and trashed his room, Fujishima hadn’t said a word. But today, knowing he would be a nuisance, he had come all the way to Tohru’s workplace to ask about the photos. Tohru should have realized what this meant.

“Damn it…” Tohru cursed under his breath and rushed out into the night. He didn’t know where Fujishima was, but searching for him was meaningful in itself.

He ran down streets he had never been on before and even peered into back alleys. After running around aimlessly and tiring himself out, he found himself back at the park in front of the apartment building. He hadn’t looked here yet. He walked slowly through the park, with only a few streetlights dotted here and there. He was too tired to keep running. The clock near the small pond showed it was 2 a.m. There was no one else in the park.

Dry leaves rustled underfoot. The cold wind at the end of autumn quickly cooled his sweaty body. About halfway through the park, he heard a creaking noise from his right. There was someone by the children's playground equipment. It wasn’t a shadow small enough to be a child.

Tohru slowly approached the swings. Fujishima was sitting on a child-sized swing, slumped over deeply. When Fujishima’s body moved slightly, the swing let out a creak.

Even when Tohru stood in front of him, Fujishima didn’t lift his head. He must have known Tohru was there, but he didn’t say anything.

“...Go home,” Fujishima muttered after a long silence. His voice was colder than the wind and pierced Tohru’s ears.

“I’ll go home in a little while… I just want to be alone right now.”

Tohru grabbed Fujishima’s arm and forcibly pulled him off the swing. When Fujishima resisted, Tohru dragged him along until he eventually slumped down on the ground. Even then, Tohru grabbed him by the collar and dragged him backward. Fujishima thrashed around like a flipped-over ant. It was impossible to drag the struggling man with one hand, and in the struggle, Tohru’s grip on the collar slipped. Taking advantage of the moment, Fujishima jumped up and ran off without looking back.

If he got away, Tohru might never find him again. Driven by that fear, Tohru desperately chased after him. Fujishima ran to the far side of a small jungle gym. No matter how much Tohru pursued, Fujishima would run in the same direction, so the distance between them didn’t close. He couldn’t catch him. Like a game of tag around the jungle gym, they kept dodging each other.

After a while, Fujishima stopped running. Even when Tohru approached, he didn’t move. Cautiously, Tohru walked along the side of the jungle gym, grabbed Fujishima’s arm, and held on tightly.

He pulled the unresisting man behind a bench into the bushes. He pushed Fujishima to the ground at the base of a large tree, onto the soft grass, and climbed on top of him.

Even when Tohru ripped off Fujishima’s tie, tore open his shirt, and spread his legs wide after pulling off his pants and underwear, Fujishima didn’t resist. Even when Tohru pressed his erection against him, Fujishima didn’t struggle like he had the day before.

Tohru forced himself into Fujishima, who gasped but didn’t cry out. He covered his eyes with his hands and kept his lips tightly closed.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Come on, moan for me,” Tohru taunted, thrusting even more roughly into Fujishima. He moved his hips side to side, thrusting upward repeatedly.

“You might as well enjoy it, right? You like this, don’t you?”

He stirred himself inside Fujishima with a twisting motion.

“We’ve had sex so many times. You were happy to take it in and suck it, right? Close your eyes and think back to those times.”

A tear slid down from Fujishima’s eyes, still covered by his hands.

“How did you like doing it with me? What position do you prefer? I’ll do whatever you want. Do you like riding on top, or do you prefer it from behind like a dog?”

Tohru pinched Fujishima’s nipples tightly.

“You can feel it in your nipples too, right? Do you like it when I pinch hard or gently?”

Fujishima didn’t respond.

“How about here?”

Tohru roughly grabbed Fujishima’s limp pale penis.

“Do you want me to stroke it? Or do you want me to rub the tip while squeezing your balls? Or maybe you like blowjobs better… Say something, damn it!”

As he shouted, Tohru climaxed inside Fujishima. When he pulled out, his semen trickled out, wetting the grass. Realizing this, Fujishima quietly closed his knees. But Tohru forced his trembling legs back open and began to suck on Fujishima’s crotch. As he desperately sucked, Fujishima’s limp penis finally began to harden. Tohru stimulated it with an almost biting intensity, and Fujishima came into his mouth with a faint, mosquito-like moan. Tohru swallowed the bitter liquid completely.

“I made sure you came too,” Tohru said.

Fujishima kept his face covered with his hands and didn’t say a word.

“You liked my blowjob, didn’t you? That’s why you came in my mouth, right?”

Fujishima slowly shook his head.

“What the hell, it felt good, didn’t it? You got hard when I sucked your dick, so why are you shaking your head no?”

Fujishima slowly sat up.

"...Having sex with you doesn't feel good," Fujishima said quietly. He continued, "But if it's what you want, do as you like."

A cold wind blew—an unbearably cold wind. Fujishima wasn't looking at him. From the start, he had never looked at him. Tohru finally, finally realized this.

Fujishima didn't care about him at all. Not even a little bit. What Fujishima loved was the Tohru Takahisa from those six years—baking cakes, adored by everyone.

"Before, you..." Whenever he met people who knew him during those six years, they would say that over and over. But Fujishima never said, "Before, you were..." That was why Tohru had thought he was fine with the way he was now. But even if Fujishima never said it aloud, he might have been the one who missed those six years more than anyone.

So then, what was the point of him being here? Why did he regain his memories? If those six years had been happier, if he had been loved, then why couldn't he have just continued living that way? Why did he have to go through this pain?

Tohru clenched his molars hard. Ever since he was a child, everyone had shunned him. But what had he done? He just wanted to be normal, to live normally. Why did his mother have to abandon him? Why did he have to be taken in by a family with no blood relation? Why... why did the one person he trusted have to betray him over and over again...?

His shoulders began to shake. A hollow laugh bubbled up from the pit of his stomach, so empty that all he could do was laugh.

... It felt as though everyone and everything around him was telling him to "die" in unison.

The sound of clothes rustling echoed as Fujishima quietly picked up the pants and underwear that Tohru had removed, putting them back on without a word. Once dressed, Fujishima, seemingly unfazed, stood up, though slightly unsteady. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair and turned his back on Tohru, slowly starting to walk away. He didn’t say “Let’s go home,” nor did he say, “Let’s go home together.”

Tohru chased after him, grabbing a handful of Fujishima’s hair and pulling him to the ground. He threw himself onto the man’s stomach as he lay on his back.

“Ugh… Ugh…”

Meaningless words slipped out through his clenched teeth. It wasn’t until later that he realized the voice was his own.

“Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh…”

He didn’t know what he wanted to say, but one thing was clear—this man was the source of the emotions that he couldn’t control.

Tohru released his grip on the man’s hair, his fingers trembling.

“Uaah… Uaah… Uaah… Uwaaaaah…”

Tohru clutched his head with both hands and screamed. His voice echoed inside his skull, pounding like a hammer.

“Aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah…”

As he continued to scream, his voice began to sound like a parched whistle. His throat was dry, and the air whistled through it with a hissing sound. Even so, he forced himself to keep screaming.

“Hii, hiii, hii… hi…”

As he strained to produce a voice that wouldn’t come, something warm trickled down his cheek. It overflowed from his tear ducts, dripping onto Fujishima’s chest.

His mouth, unable to scream anymore, opened and closed like a fish out of water. With nowhere left to vent his emotions, Tohru grabbed Fujishima’s chest and shook him violently, like a child throwing a tantrum.

“Ugh… Agh… Ugh…”

Fujishima’s lifeless eyes said nothing. They seemed to say, “I don’t care about you at all.” Beyond the tear-blurred world, there was nothing but despair. There was only darkness into which he was falling.

When he was too exhausted to scream or cry anymore, what remained was just a body, having given up on being itself. He wanted to die. If even he didn’t need himself, he wanted to die.

Tohru pulled Fujishima’s tie out from his chest and wrapped it around his own neck. He made a knot at his Adam’s apple and pulled the ends as hard as he could, tightening it around his throat. But with a violent cough, his hands slipped. He tried to tighten it again, but once more, the pain made him let go. He repeated this six times.

On the seventh attempt, as Tohru failed once again and let go of the tie, Fujishima’s hand gently reached out to it. Tohru closed his eyes, thinking Fujishima would finally end it for him. But instead, the tie slipped off his neck, and the moment of relief from the suffocation never came.

Feeling a touch, Tohru opened his eyes. Fujishima’s fingers, wet with his tears, were touching the corners of his eyes. Terrified, Tohru swatted the hand away, only for Fujishima’s other hand to gently touch his throat, where the tie had been.

Tohru grabbed the man’s wrist and bit down hard on the base of his thumb. Despite the tremor that ran through him, Fujishima didn’t pull his hand back. The strength slowly drained from Tohru’s jaw, until he was just holding the hand in his mouth. Fujishima’s hand, now marked with faint bloodstains and bite marks, softly stroked Tohru’s tear-streaked cheek.

Tohru trembled. His body shook as if he were cold. He was grateful for the comfort, even if there was no heart behind it. But he knew that if he relied on this gentle touch, he would be hurt again. This man didn’t love him. He loved someone else, someone who looked like him but wasn’t him. If he stayed close to him, he would be consumed by the jealousy of never being the one.

But… Tohru gently grasped the fingers that were stroking his cheek and lowered his head.

“I… I’ll do whatever you say.”

His voice was hoarse.

“I… won’t ask for sex… or hit you…”

He looked up.

“I won’t do anything you hate… so…”

Fujishima stared at him intently.

“What else can I do to make you stay with me?”

Just seeing the confused look on Fujishima’s face made Tohru feel as though his chest was being squeezed. He hadn’t said anything to make him feel troubled… or so he thought, panicking internally.

“Let’s go on a trip. You used to like traveling, didn’t you? I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

His throat was dry.

“Or maybe you’d rather have cake? I can make you a cake. It’s easy if I look at a recipe, right? I’ll make you whatever you like—cream, chocolate, anything.”

Fujishima shook his head slightly. Rejected, Tohru’s vision went dark.

“I said I’d do whatever you want! Why are you shaking your head?”

The swollen lips in front of him moved slowly.

“That’s… not it. It’s not that…”

“It’s because I’m not good enough, right? That’s why I said I’d pretend to be the one you loved for six years. Otherwise, you won’t stay with me, right?”

Tohru grabbed the man’s arm and pulled him up. He held his slender back so tightly it seemed like he might break. Even though he was holding him, he felt so lonely he could cry. He felt something touch his back—fingers, perhaps. It wasn’t his imagination; they wrapped around him. Fujishima was looking at him. Only him. Tohru brought their faces closer and kissed him. For the first time, his tongue touched the soft inside of Fujishima’s mouth, tasting faintly of iron.

“I’ll stay with you,” Fujishima muttered softly.

“I’ll stay with you…”

Tohru tightened his grip on Fujishima.

“You… you’re not going anywhere?”

His voice trembled.

“You’re not going anywhere, right?”

With tear-soaked lips, Fujishima gave a small nod. Tohru asked the same thing over and over.

“You won’t leave me, right? You won’t abandon me?”

He repeated it so many times it was almost foolish. But no matter how many times he asked, no matter how many times he received a “yes,” the feeling of anxiety wouldn’t go away.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore. I never want to be alone again…”

Desperately, Tohru wished for a reason to exist, for some sense of worth, beside this kind, warm, and yet cold man.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

It was the last Saturday in December. Even after noon, Tohru was still lingering in bed. Fujishima, who had been sleeping next to him, tried to get up once, but when Tohru hugged his waist and held him back, he quietly returned to bed.

With a small yawn, Fujishima closed his eyes. Seeing him looking sleepy, Tohru forcefully turned him to face him and pressed his face against his chest. He took a pale-colored nipple into his mouth and sucked it. The back that his fingertips touched shivered and let out a shallow gasp. Feeling his response through his whole body, Tohru sucked even harder.

For the past month, they had spent all day on weekends in bed, naked. He couldn’t bear not feeling his warmth, even for a minute, and waited outside the bathroom door even during toilet breaks. He thought it was strange himself, but Fujishima didn’t say anything.

When they were at school or working, they restrained themselves, but even so, Tohru called every hour. Just because he wanted to hear Fujishima’s voice, Tohru had bought a cell phone. When they returned to the apartment, they stayed close together the whole time. They couldn’t even wait until they got to the bedroom; they had sex in the kitchen and living room more than once or twice. Because of his desire, Fujishima had less and less time to wear proper clothes at home. Even when he did wear clothes, they were quickly taken off because they got in the way, and Tohru couldn’t feel secure unless some part of their warm skin was touching.

It was like he was a baby. Like a child who would cry and scream without their mother, he would immediately long for Fujishima’s touch as soon as they were apart. Perhaps it was because he knew Fujishima’s heart wasn’t with him, that he thought even if it’s just the body...

“The weather looks nice today.” Gazing at the sunlight leaking through the blackout curtains, Fujishima murmured. Tohru also stared at the bright light.

Suddenly, he wanted to go outside. It had been weeks since he last felt like this.

“...The sea.” Tohru murmured softly. There was no reason, he just wanted to go to the sea. He had seen it in pictures, but never in reality. The place where he was born and lived was inland, and there was no one who would take him to see the sea.

“The sea...?” Fujishima tilted his head.

“...It’s nothing.” Tohru buried his face in Fujishima’s soft chest. A faintly sweet body odor wafted.

“Do you want to go to the sea?” Fujishima gently stroked his hair.

“Shall we go together?”

When Tohru lifted his head, Fujishima was looking at him. He wondered how Fujishima could know what he was thinking.

Fujishima asked again, as if to confirm, “Shall we go together?”

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Even though the weather was good, the wind was bitterly cold. It howled past his ears, sounding frigid. The sky was blue, but the sea had a slightly grayish, wintry color. In a black coat and a wine-colored scarf, Fujishima’s long bangs swayed greatly in the salty wind.

As soon as they decided to go to the sea, Tohru felt like taking photos. Recently, he hadn’t paid attention to his camera and tripod outside of classes, but he put them in the back seat of Fujishima’s car.

After driving south for about an hour, a sparkling white line appeared in the distance. His heart pounded with excitement, like a child’s. They parked the car along the seawall and got out. When they went down the concrete steps, they found a sandy beach. The sensation of his shoes sinking into the sand was new, and he stomped his feet on purpose several times. The waterline was a bit far away, perhaps due to low tide.

Tohru set up the tripod near the water’s edge and prepared his camera. Through the viewfinder, he intently watched the waves come and go. There wasn’t enough drama to press the shutter, just a monotonous motion. No intentional message either.

Suddenly, with the sound of the waves, his feet got wet. The sand under his feet was swept away, and he suddenly felt unsteady. Hugging the tripod and camera, Tohru turned around.

The man’s figure had disappeared from the beach. Just a moment ago, he had been sitting on the sand, but now he was gone. Tohru dropped his camera and ran to the seawall. Even when he peeked into the car parked there, he hadn’t returned.

Tohru aimlessly searched around. He ran along the seawall, even peeking into the yard of a nearby house. After circling around the area and coming back, he saw the man standing across the road from the seawall where they had parked the car. When Tohru tried to cross the road, a bus passed by with a loud honk, and the wind pressure made his body sway.

Fujishima crossed the road and returned to where Tohru was standing, staring blankly.

"Wh-where did you go?" Tohru shouted. Fujishima lowered his eyes slightly and muttered, "I'm sorry," as he handed Tohru a can of coffee.

“I thought the wind was cold…”

Tohru snatched the can of coffee from his hand and threw it toward the seawall. He grabbed Fujishima by the wrist and pulled him back down to the beach. The camera, which had fallen sideways, was now half-buried in the sand. As he held the sand-covered camera, Tohru regretted coming to the sea. If it was going to hurt this much, he should have stayed in bed with Fujishima all along.

“Are you… leaving already?”

As they walked toward the stairs leading up to the seawall, Fujishima asked.

“I’d like to stay here a bit longer.”

Fujishima squeezed Tohru's hand even tighter. To be honest, Tohru wanted to go back immediately. But because Fujishima wanted to stay, Tohru couldn’t move from that spot.

They stood still, staring out at the sea. Tohru was fed up with himself, unable to calm his frustration. Just losing sight of him was enough to make him panic. He felt abandoned. His extreme thought process couldn’t be helped, no matter how many times they had sex, hugged each other, or heard him say he'd stay by his side... because he couldn’t believe it. Because he had no confidence.

To distract himself from his frustration, he pulled a cigarette from his jacket pocket. The strong wind made the lighter flicker, and he couldn’t get it to light. He became even more irritated.

“Can you lend me your lighter?”

Fujishima didn’t smoke at all. Tohru wondered what he was planning to do as he handed it over. Fujishima took out a photo from his coat pocket. He turned it over and lit it on fire. A sharp smell of burning plastic filled the air.

...At first, the fire didn’t spread well, but midway through, it suddenly flared up and began burning quickly. When more than half of it was burned, Fujishima let go. The black ash floated up gently before being tossed around by the strong wind, rolling across the sandy beach.

“There was only one left...” Fujishima said softly.

Tohru knew what the photo was without needing to ask.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Fujishima murmured. “I’m not leaving you anymore.”

Fujishima was looking straight at him.

“I can’t go anywhere.”

Tohru hurriedly looked down. A single tear fell onto the sand, soaking in and disappearing. He decided to blame it on the cigarette smoke irritating his eyes.

Footnotes

0. Content warning: NSFW, su*cide mention, r*pe.

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