Cold Fever - Chapter 3 - Part 1

The content warning is in the footnotes⁰.

Previous TOC Next

Flowers Bloom, Scatter, and Blossom

Story 1

Even though the sun was beginning to set, the outside air was unbearably hot and humid. The thick humidity made it difficult to breathe, and with each step he took, sweat seeped into the back of the rarely-worn suit. The train was packed due to the evening rush hour, and the air conditioning, roaring noisily, did nothing to cool down the carriage. The sour body odor of the middle-aged businessman standing in front of him made Masayuki Taniguchi feel queasy.

By the time he finally reached the hotel where the party was being held, a feeling of exhaustion weighed down on his shoulders as if he had already completed a hard day’s work. He regretted not asking Kurokawa to drive him to the hotel, but he quickly regretted having that regret. After all, it was he himself who had insisted, “I’ll take the train,” and refused the man who had offered, “I’ll drive you.”

After checking in at the reception, Taniguchi stepped into the hall where the party was being held. It was a standing buffet, and although it had not been long since the event started at 7:30 p.m., the place was already crowded. Taking a beer from a waiter, he moved to a chair by the wall to sit down. As soon as he sat, he let out a sigh.

Taniguchi had been invited to the 20th anniversary party of a publishing house he had worked with in the past for a magazine job. For freelancers, connections are everything, so he made it a point to attend such parties whenever invited. However, over the years, he had become more reluctant to attend such glamorous events. In his twenties, he had been eager to take on any job, but recently he felt his stamina waning, or maybe it was just his age, and his once insatiable ambition had dwindled.

Gulping down his beer, he felt it burn his empty stomach. It had been ten years since he graduated from school and eight years since he started freelancing, and he was now over thirty. While his career was probably considered middle-tier, he hadn’t made a name for himself at all. He knew this better than anyone.

Although Taniguchi specialized in portrait photography, most of his job requests were for still life photography. He rarely got the chance to shoot portraits. He wasn’t in a position to be picky about jobs, so he diligently completed the work he was assigned day after day. Over time, he felt like he had lost sight of what he originally wanted to capture with his photography.

Was it the day before yesterday? On his way home from work, he took the train. Since it was nearly the last train, it was fairly crowded. Holding onto the strap, he looked up at the luggage rack and saw a discarded weekly magazine. Its cover was creased and crumpled. He had taken the cover photo, his first portrait job in a long while.

For readers, the girl on the cover might be of interest, but who took the picture didn’t matter. His ‘work’ went out without even his name on it and became obsolete in just a few weeks. This realization filled him with a belated sense of emptiness, and he let out a bitter laugh.

When he first became a freelancer, his goal was to publish a photo book. He had even brought his collected works to publishers. He wouldn’t dare do that now; it would be too embarrassing. Only a handful of photographers among the countless ones out there could release a photo book under their own name.

He once produced a self-published photo book. He was thrilled when it was completed, but what followed was tough. It sold hardly at all. The subjects weren’t popular things like landscapes or small animals, and while he had anticipated this to some extent, the large inventory and high printing costs weighed heavily on his day-to-day life.

“Taniguchi, is that you?”

Looking up, he saw senior photographer Shikayama approaching with a smile.

“It’s been a while,” Taniguchi said, hurriedly standing up and bowing his head.

“Since my solo exhibition last year, right? How have you been?”

“I’m doing well. You look good too, Sensei.”

“Well, getting by. Still, this party sure has a lot of people.”

Shikayama, twenty years older than Taniguchi and now fifty-two, was a well-known photographer. Taniguchi had worked as his assistant for two years after graduating from school. He became independent eight years ago, but Shikayama still spoke to him kindly and often looked out for him.

Shikayama specialized in portrait photography. His series on Kyoto’s maiko (apprentice geisha) was famous, so much so that he was synonymous with maiko photography. He had won numerous awards and published several photo books. He held a new solo exhibition of his maiko series every year, which Taniguchi always attended. The maiko captured by Shikayama had an almost palpable allure. It ranged from the fresh innocence of a young girl to the resilience of a woman, changing with each photo. From the photos, one could glimpse a bond of trust and affection that went beyond work or a hobby.

“Oh?” Shikayama let out a small sound of surprise, his eyes widening in astonishment. “A rare guest has shown up.”

Taniguchi squinted in the direction Shikayama was looking, but most of the faces were unfamiliar, so he had no idea who he was referring to.

“Sensei, who is it?”

“Oh, you may not have met him. Do you remember about two years ago there was a poster that became quite the topic—a joint perfume and accessory project? It was a nude...”

When he heard “nude,” Taniguchi remembered.

“Oh, you mean the limited model for 'CRUX'?”

“Yes, exactly. That’s the man who took that photo.”

Two years ago, the poster for the limited model helped launch the then-new accessory brand ‘CRUX’ into popularity. It caused quite a stir back then, bringing the spotlight not only on the model in the poster but also on the photographer who took it. However, neither the model nor the photographer made any media appearances at the time. The fact that no one knew who they were only fueled public curiosity further. Speculations ranged from the model being a famous celebrity to the photos being taken by a renowned photographer under a pseudonym.

Eventually, it was revealed that the photographer was a freelance cameraman named Tohru Takahisa, but CRUX kept the model’s identity strictly under wraps, and it remains a mystery to this day.

“Which person is it?”

The person Shikayama pointed out was a tall man. Although Taniguchi had heard the name before, the man himself had never revealed any photos of his face or any personal details. From the vibe of his photographs, Taniguchi had imagined he was older, but his guess was wrong—the man appeared to be around his own age. Despite being at a party, he was casually dressed in a shirt and jeans, his lips drawn into a sullen line, like a child forced to come against his will. He had a small face and sharp eyes—those eyes were the only thing that matched the image from the poster.

“Does he take all of CRUX’s ads?”

“That’s what I’ve heard.”

“The photo that became famous was great, but I actually prefer his work since then. After that initial nude, he started using abandoned buildings and went for a cool, edgy style. It’s really impressive.”

Shikayama held his chin and murmured, “Hmm…”

“Shall I introduce you to him? He’s just one year older than you, so you might get along.”

“Oh, yes, please.”

Taniguchi followed Shikayama as he walked over. When the man noticed Shikayama approaching, he gave a slight nod and glanced at Taniguchi behind him.

“It’s been a while. How have you been?”

In a low voice, the man replied, “Fine.”

“How’s work going?”

“…I haven’t been doing much...”

Shikayama chuckled, understanding the man’s honesty seemed to make him uncomfortable, and the man averted his gaze awkwardly.

“But I’m still taking photos every day…”

With a gentle smile as if he were looking at his own child, Shikayama laughed softly. “I see. I’d like to introduce you to someone. This is Masayuki Taniguchi. He used to work in my studio and is now freelancing.”

The man looked up from his downward gaze.

“I’m Taniguchi. Nice to meet you.”

The man didn’t reply but continued to stare intently. Not understanding why he was being glared at by someone he had just met, Taniguchi felt his cheeks stiffen.

“Taniguchi, this is Tohru Takahisa. We worked together on a magazine job a while back.”

“Did you take the gravure photos for ‘X-Real’?” the man suddenly asked bluntly.

“Uh, what?”

“Yuria Nashimoto’s...”

“Oh, yeah. I did work like that about three years ago…”

“I liked those,” Tohru said.

Pictures that were bound to be forgotten. Knowing someone liked those photos from a disappearing magazine, especially when the person remembered his name despite him being nearly unknown in the industry, made Taniguchi incredibly happy.

“Oh, thank you. I haven’t done much mainstream work, though...”

“I like your portraits. Everyone in them is smiling,” Tohru added.

Hearing this, Shikayama chuckled next to him. He had said the same thing before: “Taniguchi, the people in your photos are always smiling.”

“Oh, I just like capturing people smiling,” Taniguchi said, becoming more self-conscious as he spoke.

“I’m not good at photographing people, so I envy how you can capture them like that,” Tohru confessed.

Taniguchi hurriedly shook his head. “No, there’s nothing special about my work that’s worth envying…”

Just then, someone else called for Shikayama, and he left. Though he was usually good at talking with people, Taniguchi felt a bit nervous being left alone with Tohru. Even though Tohru had said he liked his work, there was something in the air about him that seemed to keep people at a distance.

“Want to sit for a bit?” Taniguchi suggested, inviting Tohru to sit with him on the chairs by the wall. As soon as they sat down, Tohru let out a big sigh.

“Crowds are exhausting,” he muttered.

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Taniguchi replied.

“I’m not good with this kind of thing. Too many people... gives me a headache.”

“I’m not good with them either, but I see it as part of the job and just deal with it. In this industry, connections are everything, you know. But I’m not in the mood today, so I’m just observing from here.”

He leaned back in his chair. Tohru glanced at him.

“Have you not been taking portraits lately?”

“Oh, well. I want to, but I don’t get many gravure photo assignments these days. I used to get a few now and then, but I guess my photos are considered too plain…”

“Do you only take photos for work?” Tohru asked, hitting a sore spot. Taniguchi hesitated, realizing that he hadn’t taken any personal photos in a while. The only memory that came to mind was of his jealous and quick-to-cry lover. He had taken some photos of them on a drive last summer. His lover had tensed up and stiffened in front of the camera, and it had taken a lot of effort to make him smile.

“It’s not just work, but mostly, yeah. I first found out about your photos from the CRUX poster. They’re all so cool and edgy.”

Tohru frowned thoughtfully. “I can only take landscapes or still life. Even back in school, my teachers kept saying my portraits were shallow.”

“But the first CRUX poster was a nude, right? Even though it’s in the nude category, it’s still a portrait. The ‘LOVE & HATE’ catchphrase fit perfectly, and I didn’t think it was shallow or anything,” Taniguchi remarked.

Tohru clicked his tongue. “That wasn’t a promotional photo. It was something I took privately that they ended up using.”

Taniguchi was surprised to hear that a photo so perfectly aligned with the brand’s image and seemingly calculated down to the last detail had no connection to the product.

He recalled how that poster had been everywhere and made such a splash when it came out. The fact that it was a nude photograph wasn’t the only reason it caused a stir; it was because it depicted an intimate embrace. However, if it had just been a simple nude, it wouldn’t have garnered nearly as much attention.

The man in the poster was biting the shoulder of the person standing in front of him from behind. That was the composition of the poster. Neither of their faces was clearly visible. You could tell that the person standing behind was a man from the structure of his bones and the thickness of his arms. However, it wasn’t clear whether the person standing in front was a man or a woman.

Their body was slender and elegant, almost like a woman’s, but it lacked the curves typical of a female figure. Moreover, their chest and crotch were hidden by the arms of the man standing behind them. Even though these parts were obscured, you could still see that there was almost no curvature in the chest area. But it wasn’t uncommon to have a female model with a flat chest.

The accessories and fragrance, which were the products being advertised, had a unisex image that could go either way. The ambiguity of whether the model was a man or a woman only added to the mystery, sparking speculation. The poster’s impact, combined with the ambiguity, led to the collaboration products selling like crazy to both men and women, making the accessory brand ‘CRUX’ a household name almost overnight.

“Kusuda, the vice president of CRUX, is a friend of mine. He asked me to shoot a poster for their products, so I prepared a few options, but none of them felt right… Then he asked if he could use some of my personal photos instead.”

Taniguchi thought, ‘That was just luck.’ He remembered reading an interview with a master photographer in a magazine once: “Ninety percent of photography is luck, five percent is talent, and the remaining five percent is effort.” It was luck that Tohru knew the vice president of CRUX, and it was luck that his personal photo ended up being used for a promotional poster. That luck made Tohru’s work a memorable photograph that stayed in people’s minds.

Some people keep struggling in hopes of getting that kind of luck, while others obtain it without effort. It’s unfair, Taniguchi thought with a wry smile. If luck didn’t turn his way soon, his future might be no brighter than that of a local camera shop owner.

“Oh, Tohru-san. And hello, Taniguchi-san,” Nishine, an editor, noticed them and approached. Taniguchi had worked with him before on a magazine’s hot springs tour project. In his early thirties, Nishine was slightly overweight and had a helpful nature.

“Tohru-san, hadn’t you and Taniguchi-san met before? Tohru-san asked me to introduce him to you, so I’ve been looking for you all this time.”

Turning to look, Taniguchi saw that Tohru had an awkward expression on his face.

“Shikayama-sensei introduced us.”

“Oh, right. Taniguchi-san used to work for Shikayama-sensei. So, how does it feel to meet the person you’ve been secretly admiring for so long?”

Tohru angrily raised his voice, “Nishine-san!” but Nishine just smiled without a hint of concern.

“Tohru-san is a fan of yours, Taniguchi-san. He’s always said he wanted to meet you. Even though he hates parties, he eagerly came when he heard you’d be here. He didn’t want to return the photo book you self-published…”

“I returned it the other day!” Tohru shouted, his face turning red.

Taniguchi, caught up in the moment, interjected, “If it’s that photo book, I still have plenty of copies at home, so I can give you two or three, though having that many might be more of a burden.”

Nishine chuckled and walked away, leaving Tohru to scratch the back of his head in embarrassment. “So uncool…” he muttered. Even though Tohru had fallen silent, the ensuing quiet wasn’t uncomfortable.

Perhaps resigned to the situation, the man who had been looking down finally raised his head. With cheeks still tinged with red, he clearly said, “I want two copies.”

◇:-:◆:-:◇

When he unlocked the front door, the inside was dark, and the air was just as oppressive and stuffy as it was outside. He felt somewhat relieved that his boyfriend’s shoes were not by the entrance. It wasn’t a problem if his boyfriend was there, but explaining the situation each time was a hassle.

“It’s a small place, but please, come in.” Taniguchi said.

Tohru entered the room in silence, curiously taking in the ordinary one-room apartment. Taniguchi hadn’t expected to end up bringing him home.

At the party, Taniguchi had given Tohru his business card. Since Tohru didn’t have one, Taniguchi had saved his email address and phone number on his cell phone.

“Feel free to contact me anytime you’re free, and I’ll bring you the book.”

Tohru had stared at the business card before asking, “Can I come get it now?”

“Huh, right now?”

Taniguchi thought it was a joke, but Tohru was serious. Not particularly in the mood to do any more networking at the party, and happy to be around someone who claimed to be a fan of his work, Taniguchi decided to leave the party with Tohru and return home.

“Would you like something cold to drink?”

As Taniguchi opened the refrigerator and pulled out two beers, Tohru said, “No, thanks. I’d rather see your photos.”

“Oh, well… sure…”

Feeling a bit taken aback by Tohru’s urgency, Taniguchi retrieved some unsold photo books from the closet. However, Tohru said, “I want to see other photos,” so Taniguchi brought out his file of stored photos. Tohru accepted it with an expression like a child receiving long-awaited sweets and began to look through the photos with a serious face.

“This one, it’s from the magazine that came out this week, right?”

Tohru pointed to a photo that had been rejected for the cover of a magazine Taniguchi had seen discarded on the train two days ago.

“The colors in this one are better than in the published version.”

“Oh, well, that’s because it was an outdoor shoot, and the color temperature dropped over time…”

“But this one has prettier colors.”

To be honest, Taniguchi had also preferred the photo Tohru was pointing to, as its color balance was better. However, the editor had insisted on using the version with the model in the red outfit. Taniguchi had eventually given in, and the red version was used on the cover. He didn’t want to be too stubborn and risk getting on the editor’s bad side.

As Tohru flipped through the pages of the file, he ignored the beer sitting beside him, focusing solely on the photos. Taniguchi sipped his beer, feeling as nervous as a student waiting for exam results.

Suddenly, Tohru’s hand stopped. He was looking at a photo of an elderly farmer smiling.

“This one is good.”

It was a picture Taniguchi had taken a few years ago while traveling in Shinshu. The farmer had learned that Taniguchi was the same age as his grandson and had smiled warmly, a moment that Taniguchi had captured. Some of the Shinshu photos had been used in a magazine feature, but the editor had excluded the farmer’s photo, saying it didn’t capture the essence of Shinshu. Despite this, Taniguchi liked the photo enough to have it printed in a large format and stored in the file.

“…I like it too,” Taniguchi muttered. Tohru looked up and smiled.

“Your photos show the ‘person’ well. They reflect the feelings of the people in them. That’s what I like about them. But whatever I shoot, it always ends up showing ‘me.’”

“What do you mean by that?”

Tohru averted his gaze.

“I didn’t realize it until someone pointed it out to me. Whenever I take a photo, my emotions come through—frustration, melancholy… trivial things like that, reflected like in a mirror. Whether it’s a street scene or a stone, I’m always there. And it’s suffocating.”

But… Tohru continued.

“Your photos reflect the emotions of the people in them. They aren’t egotistical, and that’s what makes them good.”

Tohru finally reached for the pull ring of the beer, now covered in condensation.

“I wish I could take photos like yours.”

Taniguchi swallowed hard. Being told someone wished to take photos like his made him uneasy. He wasn’t in a position to be envied, and he was starting to lose sight of where he was headed.

“I think you’re more amazing, Tohru-san. You’re in tune with the times.”

“Rubbish,” Tohru dismissed Taniguchi’s honest opinion with a single word. “In the end, it’s all trends that come and go. Besides, I don’t believe in evaluations.”

The strength of Tohru’s conviction was enviable. Taniguchi found himself wanting to steer the conversation away from himself.

“You mentioned you take photos every day, not just for work.”

“There’s nothing else for me to do,” Tohru said, taking a gulp of beer.

“If you’re not using them for work, why not hold an exhibition of the photos you’ve accumulated?”

“An exhibition?”

Tohru’s eyebrows twitched.

“With your talent, you could definitely do it.”

“…I’ve never thought about it.”

“Have you ever participated in a group exhibition?”

“No,” Tohru shook his head.

“Have you ever been invited to one?”

“It’s too much of a hassle. Besides, I don’t want to exhibit my work alongside photographers whose photos I don’t like.”

The sound of the front door opening startled Taniguchi, and he reflexively turned around.

“I’m back. You said you’d be late today, so I didn’t expect you to be home yet.”

As Yuichi Kurokawa spoke while entering the room, he noticed the unfamiliar shoes at the entrance and fell silent. Taniguchi quickly rushed over to him.

“I have a guest, so you need to leave,” Taniguchi whispered urgently. Kurokawa’s expression darkened.

“You said you’d be late because of a party.”

“It was boring, so I left early.”

Kurokawa glanced at Tohru, who was sitting in the back of the room.

“I won’t get in the way.”

“That’s not the issue. I can’t relax when you’re here.”

Kurokawa narrowed his eyes.

“Is there something you don’t want me to see?”

“No, it’s just that…”

“…I’m not leaving.”

Kurokawa brushed past Taniguchi and entered the room. He gave a brusque “Hello” to a bewildered Tohru and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. Unwilling to argue in front of a guest, Taniguchi chose to ignore his stubborn boyfriend.

“Is it okay for him to be here?” Tohru asked, glancing at Kurokawa, but Taniguchi waved it off casually.

“He’s just an acquaintance. Don’t worry about it.”

“If you have a collection of photos, I think you should hold an exhibition. It costs money to rent a gallery, but if someone from a publishing company likes your work, it could lead to more opportunities. And more importantly, you’d get direct feedback on your work. It’s interesting.”

“Have you done one?”

“Yes. I’ve participated in group exhibitions with friends from school a few times. No offers from publishers came out of it, but it was fun.”

Tohru looked down slightly, touching his lips with his fingers, and muttered, “Hmmm.” Then, with a sudden burst of energy, he looked up.

“Hey, why don’t you and I hold an exhibition together?”

Taniguchi blinked in surprise.

“The worlds we capture are completely different, and that contrast could be interesting.”

“Well, but…”

“If I’m going to do it, I want to do it with you.”

Before Taniguchi could process his words, the ringtone of a cell phone cut through the air. It was Tohru’s phone. After a brief exchange of a few words, Tohru hung up and glanced at the screen. "It’s getting late. I’ll miss the last train, so I should head home," he murmured.

Tohru stood up and looked directly at Taniguchi.

"I came to the party today because I wanted to see you. I’m glad we got to meet and talk. I don’t know how you feel, but I’m genuinely happy. I’m serious about the exhibition too. If you’re interested, let me know," Tohru said. Then, he left, carrying two photo books under his arm.

Taniguchi was left feeling bewildered. In just one day, they had met, talked, and even discussed holding an exhibition together. If he were younger, in his twenties, he might have impulsively said, "Let’s do it." But he realized he knew almost nothing about Tohru Takahisa—other than that he wasn’t particularly friendly, had taken photos for CRUX posters, and seemed a bit difficult to approach.

He downed the now-warm beer in one gulp, hoping to calm himself, but it only made him more anxious. If they were going to do a joint exhibition, they’d need to decide on a theme. While they could each choose their themes, it might be more interesting to have a unified concept since it would be a joint exhibition. All he knew of Tohru’s work were the CRUX posters, so he thought it would be better to see more of his photos before narrowing down the theme.

Suddenly, Taniguchi’s thoughts were interrupted by a hand on his shoulder.

"Do you bring people you’ve just met into your room?" Kurokawa’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"What are you talking about?" Taniguchi replied, confused.

"You kicked me out, saying you had a party, but then you brought him into your room?" Kurokawa accused.

It finally dawned on Taniguchi what Kurokawa was getting at.

"You’ve got it all wrong. You heard the conversation, didn’t you? We were talking about doing an exhibition together," Taniguchi tried to explain.

"But you didn’t look that enthusiastic about it," Kurokawa pointed out.

Taniguchi’s temper flared as he realized Kurokawa had hit the mark. He roughly shook off Kurokawa’s hand from his shoulder.

"This has nothing to do with you!" Taniguchi snapped.

Kurokawa’s presence was becoming more irritating by the second. Needing to be alone, Taniguchi retreated to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him as Kurokawa tried to follow.

The cramped bathroom made it difficult to move, and when Taniguchi tried to take off his clothes, his elbows painfully bumped against the door. Even the smallest inconveniences were starting to aggravate him. He threw his clothes on the floor and stepped into the bathtub, letting the hot water wash over his head. He had argued with Kurokawa before leaving for the party, too.

The issue started about a week ago when Kurokawa brought up the idea of living together. They had been dating for two years, and Taniguchi had sensed that this conversation was bound to happen sooner or later. Kurokawa was already spending more than half the week at Taniguchi’s place, practically living there. Even though living together wouldn’t be much different from their current situation, Taniguchi wasn’t interested in moving in together, so he declined with a simple "No."

It wasn’t that Taniguchi disliked Kurokawa. But no matter how many times he explained his reasons, Kurokawa never seemed to accept them and kept asking, "Why can’t we live together?" over and over again, which was enough to wear anyone down.

As Taniguchi washed his hair, he thought about how Kurokawa was probably waiting outside the door. Fully aware of this, he lingered in the bath for almost an hour. When he finally stepped out, completely naked, he found Kurokawa sitting on the floor in the hallway, head down, hugging his knees. If Kurokawa had been a child, perhaps Taniguchi might have felt some pity, but seeing a man in his thirties sitting like that, it just looked pathetic.

"...I’m sorry," Kurokawa muttered quietly. When Taniguchi looked down at him, he saw that Kurokawa’s eyes were swollen from crying so much.

"What are you apologizing for?"

"For... doubting you. Deep down, I know there's nothing going on. But once I started thinking, I couldn't stop imagining all sorts of terrible things..." Kurokawa’s hand reached out and gently grasped Taniguchi’s ankle.

"Are you angry...?"

"Yeah, I’m angry."

At that, a single tear fell from Kurokawa’s puffy eyelid. The frustration that had filled Taniguchi’s chest was suddenly pierced by a small pang of pain.

"I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’ll apologize as many times as it takes. Just please..."

Kurokawa’s fingers, trembling slightly, gripped Taniguchi’s ankle.

"That’s enough... You’re not a kid, so stop crying."

As Kurokawa began to stroke Taniguchi’s bare foot, he suddenly leaned in and licked Taniguchi’s exposed groin.

"Hey, stop it."

Taniguchi tried to pull away, but Kurokawa only pulled him closer, taking him fully into his mouth.

"I said stop..."

Taniguchi had no intention of doing anything, but the familiar, slow, and deliberate caresses began to stir something deep within him, and he could feel a reaction in his lower abdomen. Noticing his partial arousal, Kurokawa began to tease Taniguchi further, and before long, Taniguchi’s legs buckled, forcing him to crouch down as his knees started to shake.

As Kurokawa embraced him, the familiar scent of his body filled Taniguchi’s senses—an unmistakable mix of Kurokawa’s fragrance and his own natural scent. Kurokawa continued to kiss him repeatedly, making a soft smacking sound each time, while greedily probing his back entrance. Taniguchi groaned in a low voice, “If you’re going to do it, take me to the bed.”

◇:-:◆:-:◇

After an unusually persistent and exhausting bout of sex, Kurokawa eventually drifted off to sleep. Taniguchi, now sweaty and sticky despite having showered earlier, rolled over in frustration.

The room’s air conditioning was set so low that it felt like the Arctic, and the fan was blasting loudly. Whenever they had sex, Kurokawa would always set the room to freezing temperatures. Taniguchi had once joked that he would bill Kurokawa for the electric costs, and to his surprise, Kurokawa had actually left money the next day. As Kurokawa slept, Taniguchi took the opportunity to lightly tap him on the head, finding it ridiculous that Kurokawa couldn’t even take a joke.

They had been together for two years now. Even though they were both men, their physical chemistry was good, so the sex was satisfying. If someone asked Taniguchi if he loved Kurokawa, he could say "yes" without hesitation. But recently, Taniguchi had started to feel uneasy about Kurokawa’s growing obsession with him.

They had sex two or three times a week, which Taniguchi thought was quite frequent considering they were no longer in their teens or twenties. But Kurokawa insisted it wasn’t enough and even said he wanted to do it every day. On days when they couldn’t see each other, Kurokawa would call five or six times just to hear Taniguchi’s voice.

Taniguchi knew Kurokawa loved him and appreciated the attention. He could see how devoted Kurokawa was to him, how much effort he put into their relationship. But he couldn’t help wondering if it was really okay for Kurokawa to be so focused on him to the exclusion of everything else.

Suddenly, he was tightly embraced by Kurokawa, who he thought was asleep. Their eyes met, and Kurokawa kissed him. As their tongues intertwined and Kurokawa teased Taniguchi’s sensitive spot, the lingering sensation from before started to stir again.

“This spot, it’s so soft,” Kurokawa said with a satisfied smile. “After sex, it gets all soft and warm. I like it when it’s a bit firm at first, but it feels really good when it softens later.” he said, his words filled with an almost indecent affection that made Taniguchi’s face burn with embarrassment.

"Don’t talk like that," Taniguchi muttered.

"Hey... Can I put it in again?" Kurokawa asked, rubbing his cheek against Taniguchi’s like a cat.

"Wait a little longer. Doing it again right away is too much."

"I won’t move too much. Can I just leave it in until morning?"

"No way."

"Why not?"

"Because... If you do that, I won’t be able to move my hips."

Kurokawa pressed against a sensitive spot inside Taniguchi, causing his body to shudder.

"You won’t be paralyzed," Kurokawa teased.

"Besides, it’s heavy whether you’re on top or behind."

"Then we’ll do it sideways."

" Just wait a bit. Let me say it’s okay first," Taniguchi said, his voice wavering.

"Okay," Kurokawa whispered, placing a kiss on Taniguchi’s neck. As Taniguchi leaned back in pleasure, Kurokawa kissed him on the lips, and their eyes met.

Reaching out, Taniguchi touched Kurokawa’s well-shaped chin. He thought Tohru Takahisa, whom he had met earlier that day, was quite handsome. But Kurokawa was just as attractive. If only he didn’t cry so much...

"Is that thing we talked about still not okay?" Kurokawa asked, breaking the silence.

Here we go again, Taniguchi thought.

"Let’s put that conversation on hold," Taniguchi replied curtly. Kurokawa shook him like a child throwing a tantrum.

"I already spend half the month here, so it shouldn’t be a big deal if we live together," Kurokawa pleaded.

Taniguchi sighed. "I know, but living together would probably be more of a burden than a benefit for me. I’m not planning to move because of work."

"I’ll move here," Kurokawa offered.

"Think about it rationally. If you move here, your commute will take two hours each way. That’s four hours a day. It’s not sustainable, and it will start affecting your work. Things are fine the way they are."

Kurokawa fell silent.

"Visiting and staying over occasionally is enough. In fact, maybe we need a little space," Taniguchi suggested.

Kurokawa’s face clouded over, and he looked like he was about to cry.

"It’s not that I don’t like you. But I think seeing each other less often will help keep things good between us," Taniguchi added, patting Kurokawa’s head.

"Don’t misunderstand—I don’t dislike you."

But Kurokawa remained silent, clearly unconvinced.

"I’m thinking about quitting my job," Kurokawa suddenly muttered.

"What would you do if you quit?"

"I’d move in here."

Taniguchi smacked Kurokawa on the head.

"Were you even listening to me? Quitting your job to move in here is out of the question. Or are you saying your job means so little to you that you’d throw it away for a relationship?" Taniguchi snapped.

He could see Kurokawa biting his upper lip in frustration.

"You need balance," Taniguchi said. "When it comes to love, work... you need to think about how to pace yourself. And it's not just about me. You should get to know other people too. Spending all your time with just me won't broaden your world."

Finally, Kurokawa responded with a small, "Yeah..." and lowered his gaze. His expression was downcast, and when Taniguchi ruffled his hair in a gesture of comfort, Kurokawa clung to him tightly.

Taniguchi liked Kurokawa and thought he was adorable. It might be strange to say this as the one who gets taken, but Taniguchi wondered if Kurokawa were a woman, would they have just gotten married, and that would be the end of it? But Kurokawa wasn't a woman, and Taniguchi couldn't imagine staying like this forever.

Ten years from now... Would he still be making a living as a photographer? Or would he have gracefully given up and retreated to the countryside to run a camera shop? Or perhaps he’d pretend he never knew anything about cameras and be doing some entirely different job. And at that time, would Kurokawa still be by his side?

Taniguchi cupped Kurokawa’s cheek and kissed him—a deep kiss, like the ones Kurokawa always gave him. Just from the kiss, Kurokawa's arousal pressed against Taniguchi's stomach, becoming harder.

"...Go ahead," Taniguchi said in a husky voice, speaking between kisses. "You can put it in."

As Kurokawa pushed into the narrow space, Taniguchi closed his eyes, a shiver of pleasure running down his spine. He wished there was a machine that could neatly sort out talent and luck. It would take care of half his worries, he thought.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

About a week after the party, Tohru Takahisa called Taniguchi during his lunch break. Takahisa said he wanted to talk, and they arranged to meet that evening.

Taniguchi’s work ran late, so he arrived at the meeting station five minutes later than planned. As he stepped out of the ticket gate, he saw Takahisa standing there, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans with a daypack slung over his shoulder. His outfit was nothing special, but his tall frame and good looks caught people’s attention.

"Sorry for being late," Taniguchi said, bowing his head. Takahisa muttered, "It's fine," in a low voice.

"Is it okay if we go to a place I know?" Takahisa asked.

"Sure," Taniguchi replied.

Takahisa started walking ahead, his back giving off an air of irritation. Taniguchi wondered if Takahisa was angry about his lateness—though it had only been five minutes—and whether he should apologize again. While he was pondering this, Takahisa stopped in front of an izakaya called "Ginnan." They ducked under the noren curtain and entered, finding the place bustling with people.

It was a typical, down-to-earth izakaya. Seeing that no tables were available, Takahisa sat at the counter.

"Hey, isn't that Tohru?" The elderly man who seemed to be the owner called out to Takahisa, wiping sweat from his forehead.

"Yeah, it is," Takahisa replied.

"Where's Kusuda-chan? He's not with you today?"

"He's been busy lately."

"Tell him to drop by once in a while, will ya? So, what’ll it be? Today's special is sashimi."

"Alright, then I’ll have that, some beef tendon stew, cold tofu, and a beer. What about you?"

"Uh, let’s see..." Taniguchi looked around at the menu cards posted all over the walls. A middle-aged woman, probably the owner's wife, handed him a slightly worn menu board.

"The chicken here is really good," Takahisa recommended. Taniguchi ordered the chicken and a rolled omelet as suggested. He thought the place might be a bit noisy and crowded for a conversation, but Takahisa seemed perfectly at ease, even content, as he narrowed his eyes.

"Do you come here often?" Taniguchi asked.

Takahisa nodded slightly. "Yeah. Drinking at unfamiliar places makes me nervous."

It didn’t seem like Takahisa was in a bad mood after all. Maybe he was just shy and preferred places he was familiar with. Since Takahisa had called him out saying he wanted to talk, Taniguchi waited for him to bring up the subject. But Takahisa didn’t say a word until he finished his first beer.

"Here," Takahisa said, ordering his second beer and then pulling a thin folder, about the size of a notebook, from his daypack. "You’ve only seen my CRUX photos, right?"

"Thanks..." Taniguchi said, realizing that Takahisa had brought his photo portfolio specifically for him. As soon as he opened it, Taniguchi was captivated, flipping through the pages almost compulsively. The photos were unique—each one was bathed in blue, like the sky just before dawn. In a single landscape, multiple layers of other scenes overlapped, creating a mysterious space. They felt strangely nostalgic and sad. These were completely different from the CRUX photos.

"I adjust the colors using color bars and blue toner. Once I started, I found it fascinating, so I’ve been doing it a lot lately," Takahisa explained.

The last few photos were different from the blue ones—they featured stones. In a cream-colored space, stones were neatly arranged, except for one that was out of place. Its isolation made it stand out. Even though they were inanimate objects, the arrangement conveyed a sense of alienation. There wasn’t a single photo of a person, yet Taniguchi could feel the presence of a person’s will. It was probably Takahisa himself. Taniguchi recalled Takahisa’s words: "Whatever I shoot, it shows me."

Taniguchi swallowed hard. He was impressed. What Takahisa captured was incredible, even if it wasn’t what Taniguchi aimed for or wanted to shoot himself. Taniguchi returned the file in silence. He couldn’t help but acknowledge the clear and undeniable talent in Takahisa's work. It wasn’t just luck; it was something much more profound.

Takahisa took the file back without a word.

"About that solo exhibition I mentioned," Takahisa said, "I really want to do it with you. But of course, it depends on what you think of my photos."

It wasn’t a matter of what he thought or didn’t think. Taniguchi was certain that he couldn’t measure up.

"I'm in no rush, so if you ever feel up to it, let me know. Though I might reach out to you before you do," Takahisa added.

Taniguchi downed his beer in one gulp. Despite drinking two glasses, he didn’t feel tipsy at all. His nerves were on edge.

"Your photos are amazing... So I don’t understand why you think mine are good," Taniguchi said honestly.

"My photos are just ordinary shots, something anyone could take if they wanted to..."

Takahisa chuckled softly, and for some reason, it made Taniguchi want to cry.

"Not just anyone can take them. Your photos are uniquely yours. You can see right through to the good nature of the people in them." Takahisa said.

"What...?"

"People can’t smile genuinely in front of someone they don’t trust."

As silence settled between them, the noise of the bustling izakaya grew louder.

"When I look at your photos, I can't help but think you must have had a good upbringing," Takahisa said. "You probably had parents who were there for you, who cared about you. Maybe that's what I'm envious of."

Just as Takahisa suggested, Taniguchi had grown up in a perfectly normal household. His parents were earnest, and they got along well. He also had a younger brother, with whom he still kept in frequent contact. To him, that was what family was—it was natural. But hearing Takahisa express envy over what he had taken for granted made him wonder what kind of upbringing Takahisa must have had.

Taniguchi’s phone rang. It was Kurokawa. He excused himself and stepped outside the bar.

"Are you still at work?" Kurokawa’s usual sweet, clingy voice asked.

"No, I'm done. I'm having a drink with someone I know. Where are you?" Taniguchi replied.

"I'm at your apartment," Kurokawa said, adding, "I thought you'd be home early today..." His tone carried a hint of resentment.

"Sorry, but you should go home tonight," Taniguchi said.

"Are you going to be out late?"

"I'm in a bad mood," Taniguchi said curtly.

There was a pause on the other end.

"If something's bothering you, I can listen."

"I don't want to see anyone right now... Good night. And don’t call me again tonight."

With that, Taniguchi ended the call. When he returned to the bar, Takahisa was sitting there, smoking a cigarette while sipping his beer. Even in the corner of a nondescript bar, he looked effortlessly composed. With his good looks and talent, Taniguchi wondered if there was anything in the world that could scare this man.

"Sorry about that," Taniguchi apologized as he sat back down. Almost immediately, his phone rang again. Seeing it was Kurokawa, Taniguchi checked the name and then turned off the phone.

"Is it okay to just turn it off?" Takahisa asked, noticing Taniguchi's actions.

"It's fine. It'll just be the same person calling back. They’re not good at reading the room," Taniguchi replied.

"A lover?" Takahisa asked.

Taniguchi’s heart skipped a beat. For a moment, he worried that Takahisa had seen the name on his phone, but then he remembered that he had only registered Kurokawa’s last name. Relieved that his partner's gender wasn’t revealed, he realized Takahisa hadn’t figured it out. Even though the industry had plenty of gay people, Taniguchi wasn’t comfortable discussing his personal life with someone he’d only met twice.

"Something like that," he said vaguely.

"Hmm..." Takahisa responded, noncommittally.

"Do you have someone you're seeing?" Taniguchi asked casually, following the flow of the conversation.

"Yeah," Takahisa replied.

Taniguchi tried to picture the kind of person who would be with someone like Takahisa—cool, sarcastic, but also shy.

"Bet they're good-looking. Just a feeling..."

Takahisa tilted his head slightly.

"I wouldn’t know if they’re good-looking. I’ve never looked at them that way."

"But you must have some idea how they appear objectively," Taniguchi pressed.

"I really don’t know. They're like a part of me," Takahisa said, a strange expression crossing his face. It was an unusual way to describe someone. Taniguchi imagined that perhaps they’d been together so long that they had become like air to each other.

"Have you been together a long time?" Taniguchi asked.

Takahisa began counting on his fingers but stopped midway.

"Can't remember," he admitted. "What about you?"

"Two years. They’re pretty dependent, get jealous a lot, and lately, it’s been getting on my nerves. They center their life around the relationship and even say they’d quit their job for me. It just feels... off."

"Is that a complaint or a boast?" Takahisa asked, a hint of detachment in his voice.

"No, it’s not like that... I just wish they’d broaden their horizons a bit. Love is great, but there’s more to life. I want them to see and experience more, to grow as a person... I think that would make them more attractive."

"Whether someone is attractive or not is up to them, not something you get to dictate," Takahisa said directly, causing Taniguchi to swallow his words. Still, he wanted to argue back. He didn’t want to control Kurokawa; he just wanted him to be more independent.

Takahisa finished what must have been his nth beer.

"But maybe you’re the normal one," he said.

"Normal? What do you mean?" Taniguchi asked carefully, sensing that the wrong words might backfire.

"Thinking about things like broadening horizons or becoming more well-rounded... having that kind of leisure," Takahisa replied.

"And you’re not like that?" Taniguchi asked.

Takahisa glanced at him and shrugged. "Who knows."

It wasn’t until later that Taniguchi realized Takahisa had dodged the question. After that, they talked only about photography, steering clear of any mention of relationships. By the time they left the bar, it was past eleven.

Taniguchi had tried to drown the turmoil inside him with alcohol, but all he managed to do was drink too much. His legs wobbled as he walked down the street.

"Takahisa, you have real talent," Taniguchi said suddenly. They were on their way to the station when Takahisa turned to face him.

"You absolutely do. You don’t need some machine to measure it. You can just look and see... it’s there..."

His words trailed off as his speech began to slur.

"Honestly, I’m jealous. I wish I could be like you, Takahisa," Taniguchi said, his head drooping slightly as he let out a weak laugh. When he looked up, Takahisa was standing right in front of him.

"I was abandoned by my parents when I was ten," Takahisa said, his lips moving slowly, almost as if he were smiling.

"I was taken in by strangers, locked up, and almost died. After that, I lived in a dorm until I graduated. When I was twenty-two, I got into a car accident, killed someone, and ended up losing six years of my memory."

Takahisa was, in fact, smiling.

"Do you still want to be like me?"

A breeze swept through the narrow alleyway, rustling the litter.

"If you do, I’d gladly trade places with you."

Taniguchi’s mind struggled to process what he’d just heard. Abandoned by his parents... but who did he kill? Suddenly, Takahisa’s laughter rang out, loud enough to make Taniguchi’s ears ring.

"I’m just kidding," Takahisa said.

What part was a joke? The tragic backstory, or the offer to trade places?

"Walk properly, or you’ll miss the last train," Takahisa said, pulling Taniguchi along as they walked. Taniguchi’s memory was spotty after that, but the next thing he knew, he was on the train, holding a ticket in his hand.

He had to get off at the next stop. Thankfully, he realized before it was too late. The momentary relief was quickly overshadowed by a single tear that slipped down his cheek. He wasn’t sure why he was crying, but as he pondered this, the train arrived at his station.

A warm, unsettling wind whipped along the tracks, ruffling Taniguchi’s hair. It felt like the kind of wind that comes before a storm. Despite his unsteady steps, he had an overwhelming urge to run. Acting on impulse, he took off, only to trip and fall on a flat surface. He scraped his elbow, and the pain kept him glued to the pavement, lying face down.

Drops began to hit his face. They fell randomly at first, but soon they soaked his clothes and the pavement beneath him. Slowly, Taniguchi pushed himself up and resumed his walk.

By the time he reached his apartment building, he was drenched. He took the elevator to the fifth floor, struggling to fish his keys out of his jeans' back pocket. It took so long to retrieve them that he almost didn’t notice the man sitting in front of his door.

When Taniguchi realized Kurokawa was sitting there, he felt a wave of exasperation. This was the last face he wanted to see right now.

"I told you to go home," Taniguchi said, his voice laced with irritation.

Kurokawa bit his lip and shook his head.

"I need to be alone sometimes too, you know."

"You didn’t have to turn off your phone," Kurokawa mumbled, his voice filled with hurt.

Listening to complaints, or even voicing them, felt utterly tiresome to Taniguchi. "I told you I was in a bad mood. I don’t want to have to walk on eggshells when I feel like this. You need to pick up on that kind of vibe."

But Kurokawa didn’t back down. "You know I’m not good at picking up on things like that."

"If you know that, then try to make an effort to understand," Taniguchi shot back. He pushed past Kurokawa, who was standing in the entryway, and walked into the apartment. He slammed the door shut and bolted it with the chain. Too tired even to take off his shoes, he collapsed onto the floor of the hallway, wanting nothing more than to just sleep there. But the thought of Kurokawa still waiting outside gnawed at him. He knew the man wasn’t going to leave. Kurokawa was stubborn that way—when he decided to stay, he wouldn’t budge. Taniguchi could picture him now, huddled with his knees pulled to his chest, sulking in the hallway.

"Dammit," Taniguchi cursed under his breath. He got up slowly, walked over to the door, and opened it. Kurokawa was sitting against the wall, looking up at him with a pale, almost deathly expression. His eyes were wet and red from crying.

"Don’t just sit there like that," Taniguchi said.

Kurokawa, wiping his face like a child, stood up and followed him inside. Even though Kurokawa was a tall man, he looked small with his shoulders hunched and his head down.

Taniguchi wondered, Why am I even with this guy? It wasn’t because he was attracted to him as a man or because he thought being with him would make him a better person.

"Should we break up?" Taniguchi asked.

Kurokawa’s body visibly trembled, his eyes widening in shock. "Why?"

"I’m just asking if we should break up. That’s all."

Kurokawa’s fingers, trembling, tightened their grip on Taniguchi’s shoulders. "Do you hate me now?"

His eyes were brimming with tears, and his grip on Taniguchi’s shoulders grew painfully strong.

"Let go, you’re hurting my shoulder."

"Tell me why," Kurokawa demanded, his voice shaking.

Taniguchi realized how absurd it was to have a serious argument over a comment made in passing. He had only asked about breaking up to make Kurokawa realize how angry he was.

"It was just a joke," Taniguchi said, trying to ease the tension.

Kurokawa’s grip loosened instantly.

"I just wanted to see how you’d react…"

Before Taniguchi could finish, Kurokawa slapped him. The sting spread across his cheek, and it dawned on him that Kurokawa had actually hit him. The realization ignited a burning anger within him.

"What the hell was that for?" Taniguchi snapped.

"Why would you say something like that?" Kurokawa’s voice was almost a scream. "You know how much I love you… how much I can’t stand it…"

Taniguchi was at a loss for words.

"You know, and yet you still say things like that. It’s cruel!"

The desperate cry echoed in Taniguchi’s chest. He stepped closer to the trembling man, feeling guilty for having pushed him this far.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean it," Taniguchi said softly. "I’m just dealing with a lot right now…"

Tears fell from Kurokawa’s eyes as he looked up at Taniguchi. "You don’t understand me at all," Kurokawa said, his voice still trembling.

"That’s not true. I care about you."

"You say that, but you don’t try to understand," Kurokawa retorted.

"That’s not true," Taniguchi insisted, but before he could say more, Kurokawa suddenly hugged him and kissed him. The kiss was forceful, almost painful, as if Kurokawa were biting his tongue. Pinned to the floor in the hallway, Taniguchi found himself turned onto his stomach, with Kurokawa pressing down on him from behind.

"Kurokawa?"

Kurokawa’s hands hurriedly stripped away Taniguchi’s clothes. Despite his struggles, Taniguchi found himself unable to resist effectively, especially with the alcohol dulling his senses and Kurokawa’s weight pinning him down.

"Stop it! I don’t want this!" Taniguchi shouted as his pants were yanked down and Kurokawa’s fingers roughly prodded between his legs.

"Stop it, seriously…"

Usually, if Taniguchi said no, Kurokawa would stop. But tonight was different. There was no sign that Kurokawa was going to back off. As Kurokawa’s dominance became more forceful, a deep fear began to take hold of Taniguchi. He realized he was dealing with something much more primal, something animalistic.

"Please, stop…"

Kurokawa began to slowly push inside. Even though they’d had sex many times before, this felt entirely different—like a violation by a stranger. Overwhelmed by the sensation, tears streamed down his face.

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry… Masayuki," Kurokawa’s voice whispered in his ear. At that moment, Kurokawa withdrew. Even though Taniguchi didn’t want to be on his back, Kurokawa flipped him over. He was crying because of the violation, but when he saw that Kurokawa was also crying, he felt a wave of relief, and more tears welled up in his eyes.

"You idiot," Taniguchi muttered. Despite his fear and anger, he initiated a kiss. Even though it was a kiss he started, Kurokawa quickly took control, sucking on his tongue until it almost hurt.

Finally, their lips parted after what felt like an eternity. Taniguchi’s mouth, having been ravaged, felt like it didn’t belong to him anymore and uncomfortable.

"I want to kiss you all night long," Kurokawa murmured, biting his wet lips before moving to nibble on Taniguchi’s earlobe. "I want to be inside you all night, but you don’t feel the same. Even though you love me, you think that’s annoying, don’t you?"

Kurokawa’s large hands cupped Taniguchi’s face as their gazes met.

"You tell me to balance work and love, but I love you more than my job, more than my family. As long as I have you, I don’t need anything else. I could give up everything just to be by your side."

Kurokawa’s trembling lips pressed against Taniguchi’s cheek.

"Even if you get sick and can’t move, I’ll stay by your side. Even if you do something bad and become a criminal, I’ll stand by you. We can run away together to the ends of the earth. Even if you start to hate me, I’ll never be able to give up on you…"

"I’m not…" Taniguchi began, raising his head.

"I’m not the kind of guy worth that kind of devotion. So…"

"It doesn’t matter what kind of person you are," Kurokawa cut him off. "I just want to be with you. I’d rather spend my life thinking about you than working hard on anything else."

Taniguchi was pulled into Kurokawa’s broad chest.

"That’s why you need to understand. Not everyone can balance work and love. Some people, like me, only need love, and you need to know that."

Taniguchi wrapped his arms around Kurokawa’s trembling back. It felt like he was embracing someone new for the first time. He had always thought that without him, Kurokawa would be helpless—unable to form proper relationships or even do his own laundry. But maybe, he thought, Kurokawa really was helpless in a different way.

"I wish that someday, you’ll be glad I was by your side," Kurokawa whispered softly into Taniguchi's ear, his voice filled with longing.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

I woke up on the floor. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened—back in my teens, it was a regular occurrence—but it had been a while since I’d slept on the floor after doing it. As I moved my stiff joints, the man I had been tangled up with in sleep also woke up. I pulled my phone out from the discarded jeans, and it was already 8 a.m. A faint beam of sunlight was peeking through the gap in the curtains. Still half-asleep, I kissed the man who had wrapped himself around me, and just as I was starting to wake up, he took my genitals into his mouth.

“Stop it already...” I protested, but my body reacted almost immediately. My rear, still softened from the previous night’s rough treatment, easily allowed the slim fingers to enter. As the fingers withdrew, something larger began to press in. Embarrassed by the idea of spreading my legs wide and having sex first thing in the morning while the sound of cars rushing by outside filled the room, I covered my face with my right arm. He pulled me up without pulling out, changing the angle and rubbing against me inside. A shiver ran down my spine.

When he lifted my chin, our eyes met. I quickly leaned in for a kiss. The act itself was less embarrassing than the thought of making eye contact.

“My back... hurts,” I grumbled, deliberately sounding rough.

“Sorry.” He gently rubbed my back, and it felt surprisingly good. When I closed my eyes, I felt myself getting drowsy again. My work didn’t start until the afternoon... I was still so sleepy...

“Hey, don’t you have work?” I suddenly shouted, startling Kurokawa, who looked at me with wide eyes.

“It’s Saturday, so...” I had completely forgotten. Embarrassed, I buried my face in his chest, feeling comforted by Kurokawa’s familiar scent.

“I... I might not have any talent for photography,” I confessed with a lot of courage.

“So what?” Kurokawa tilted his head, looking puzzled when I raised mine. I slouched and let out a small laugh. Something that seemed like such a big deal to me didn’t matter at all to him. Realizing this, I felt a sudden release of tension. It was true—whether I quit my job, became a camera shop owner in the countryside, or started a new career, Kurokawa would probably still be by my side.

“Hey, give me a kiss.” When I demanded it, Kurokawa smiled a little and leaned in. After the kiss, he lingered, licking my lips as if he couldn’t get enough. I asked him, “Want to move into my place?”

“Do you want to live together?” Kurokawa looked surprised and cautiously asked, “Are you sure?”

“But I’m pretty grumpy, you know. If I’m in a bad mood, I might take it out on you. When I’m tired, I won’t even bother to take a bath. And I’m often away on trips for work...”

No matter what I said, Kurokawa just nodded happily. He looked so pleased that I couldn’t help but lightly tap his head, which bobbed up and down like a nodding doll.

“One day, you better make me say that I’m glad you were by my side.”

Kurokawa nodded enthusiastically, and I found him so irresistibly cute that I hugged his head and gave a playful bite to the tip of his nose.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The rain that began in the middle of the night grew stronger, its sound intensifying as it echoed through the quiet room. Tohru woke up to the sensation of the body in his arms stirring.

"Can’t sleep?" he asked. He tightened his embrace around the slender body, which responded with a small shake of the head.

"The sound of the rain woke me up," came the reply.

Tohru gently turned the body, which had been staring at the dark window, onto its back and leaned over it. He massaged the groin area, eliciting a small moan. The soft, strained breaths excited him, and he spread the legs wide, plunging deeply into the narrow space between them.

"Mm… no…"

The body beneath him twitched and writhed, but no matter how much he played with it, it didn't get hard. Even after Tohru had come, it remained soft.

"Do you not want to do this with me?" Tohru asked, pinching the soft organ and toying with it like a toy.

"...It's not that," came the reply.

"You used to get hard just from me entering you."

The man reached out and pulled Tohru closer, whispering into his ear, "I really don’t dislike it."

"It just doesn’t get hard as often anymore, but it still feels good... really good."

His voice was small and tinged with embarrassment. Tohru wondered briefly how old the man was now but quickly dismissed the thought—it didn’t matter.

"I’m sorry I can’t please you," the man continued.

Tohru wasn’t concerned about whether or not the man got hard but hearing him apologize like that made him feel a deep sadness.

"You came home late today," the man remarked, brushing Tohru 's bangs out of his face.

"I was with Taniguchi."

"Oh," the man murmured softly.

"The photographer you said you liked."

"Yeah."

"Did you have a good time?"

"He’s a strange guy."

"A strange guy, huh?" the man asked with a hint of amusement.

"He said he wanted to be me. So I told him, 'If you can, go ahead and take my place."

Fingers brushed against Tohru 's cheek.

"That would be a problem," the man muttered softly.

"Why?"

"Why, you ask... It just would."

The man slipped out from under Tohru ’s arm and sat up. Even in the darkness, his back seemed to glow with a pale, almost luminous light. Tohru slid closer and embraced him from behind.

"Do you love me?" he asked.

The man didn’t respond, so Tohru bit his neck lightly in a kiss.

"No matter how many times I say I love you, you always ask the same question," the man said as their fingers intertwined.

As the sweet scent of his skin enveloped him, Tohru remained still, listening quietly to the sound of the rain.

Footnotes

0. Content warning: NSFW, r*pe.

Previous TOC Next