"Goodbye," you waved your hand: Chapter 1 - part 5

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Around the end of July, Mari mentioned that she wanted to go on a trip. Perhaps she assumed that since Seiichi had received a bonus, he’d be able to indulge her a bit. But that bonus was already swallowed up by loan payments for gifts he’d bought her. Even so, he couldn’t just say, “I don’t have the money,” and hesitated in how to respond.

“In two weeks, it’ll be my birthday. And I’d really love to spend it with you at my favorite hot springs,” she said.

With that, refusing became impossible. Three days after he agreed, Mari handed him a detailed itinerary for the trip. The hotel she chose was a luxury inn that cost 30,000 yen per person per night. A cold sweat ran down his back. Canceling a birthday celebration like this would surely make Mari furious. She might leave him and go on the trip with some other guy out of spite. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her to another man over something like this, especially after he had finally made her his.

But his paycheck next month was already earmarked, leaving only the bare minimum for essentials; the rest would go straight into loan repayments. He thought about picking up a part-time job, but the idea of being spotted by someone he knew—working for the sake of a woman when he wasn’t even a student anymore—didn’t sit well with him. And if word got back to Mari, she’d surely lose interest in him. She despised that kind of “uncoolness” more than anything. The words “consumer finance,” something he had never dared to consider before, drifted through Seiichi’s mind.

For the time being, he decided to save where he could, cutting down on expensive dates with Mari by claiming he was busy with work, and crashing at Keisuke’s apartment to save on food expenses. Even though he was with Mari, his physical needs were a different matter, so he continued to initiate sex with Keisuke as he always did. While they were together, he could forget his troubles, but the moment it ended, the thought of the upcoming trip with Mari would resurface. He pressed his face into Keisuke’s warm chest, mulling it over. But no matter how much he thought, it didn’t solve anything. Sensing that Seiichi’s mind was racing and that he couldn’t sleep, Keisuke gently patted his back as if to soothe him. In that moment, Seiichi felt a deep sense of being cared for by Keisuke—so different from Mari. Mari only ever took and never gave anything in return. Not that he had expected anything different from her from the start…

He has money, doesn’t he? An insidious thought suddenly whispered in his mind. Keisuke was well-off; if he had extra money lying around, maybe borrowing a bit wouldn’t be a big deal. He wasn’t asking for a handout, after all—just a loan. He fully intended to pay it back later.

Even if he was going to ask to borrow money, he couldn’t be blunt about wanting it for a trip with a woman. Keisuke wouldn’t take that well. Instead, he decided to create a situation where Keisuke might offer the money voluntarily. Choosing his words carefully, he spoke in a casual tone.

“I was talking with some friends about maybe going on a trip in a couple of weeks.”

He spoke in a sweet, almost coaxing voice.

“But I think I’ll pass on it.”

Saying it that way, he knew Keisuke would ask, “Why are you backing out?” And as expected, Keisuke took the bait.

“Why did you change your mind?”

“I’m short on cash. One of my coworkers told me about this really great hot spring. And with work finally slowing down, we thought it’d be nice to go as a team. But the place is crazy expensive.”

Keisuke’s fingers, which had been gently stroking his hair, paused. When Seiichi looked up, their eyes met.

“Do you really want to go that badly?”

Seiichi felt he was making progress.

“Yeah, but it’s just not possible.”

There was a slight pause.

“If you’re okay with it... I could cover the travel costs for you.”

It was the offer he’d been hoping for, but accepting immediately would have been too obvious.

“No, that’s okay.”

“Was I being too forward? Did I upset you?”

Seiichi panicked inwardly. If he turned him down too strongly, he might lose the opportunity altogether.

“No, it’s not that. I just don’t want to put you out.”

Keisuke smiled.

“Your birthday is next month, right? Think of it as an early birthday present. Go and enjoy yourself.”

“But…”

He feigned reluctance.

“Don’t worry about it.”

In the end, Seiichi borrowed the entire amount for the trip from Keisuke. His pride wouldn’t allow him to accept it as a gift, so he insisted on treating it as a loan, though he had no concrete plans for repayment. Even though the expense was steep—too high for one person or even for a trip with friends—Keisuke never complained.

Seiichi set off on the trip with Mari at the beginning of August. Despite the early hour, the sun was already beating down, hinting at a day of rising temperatures. That morning, he left from Keisuke’s place to pick up Mari.

“You don’t need to worry about bringing me back a souvenir or anything,” Keisuke said with a smile, seeing him off at the door. For a moment, a pang of guilt struck Seiichi, but the anticipation of the fun time he was about to have with Mari quickly made those feelings fade away.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

...The trip was absolutely miserable. Mari was selfish and capricious, and spending the entire day with her was exhausting. She might be fine as a girlfriend, but she wasn’t someone he could imagine marrying—this thought crossed Seiichi’s mind more than once.

On the last day, Mari insisted on having pasta. But a luxury ryokan like the one they were staying at didn't serve Italian food. He managed to persuade her to eat Japanese cuisine instead, but her mood soured immediately. She ignored him for the rest of the evening and even refused to have sex during the night, which was supposed to be the main event.

“I don’t want to do it,” she said.

The sadness of having to relieve himself in the bathroom despite being with a woman only deepened his sense of humiliation. The next day, they boarded the plane home without exchanging a single word, and even after he drove her back from the airport to her house, Mari didn't offer a single “thank you,” despite the fact that he had paid for everything.

After dropping Mari off, he was more relieved to be free of her than he was angry about her lack of gratitude. The sense of liberation outweighed his irritation. He regretted ever going on the trip, thinking it would have been better not to go at all if it was going to leave him feeling so low.

The evening rush hour meant that traffic was heavy, and the roads were jammed, but he didn’t feel like going straight back to his apartment. Keisuke had said he didn’t need a souvenir, but Seiichi had bought some local sake for him anyway. Keisuke liked alcohol, and whatever it was, he’d surely be happy to receive it.

After an hour’s drive from Mari’s house, he finally arrived at Keisuke’s apartment. He parked in the lot he had rented. When he had first started visiting Keisuke’s place, he’d gotten a ticket for parking on the street, so Keisuke had quickly rented a parking space nearby, saying that he’d be getting a car soon and that Seiichi could use it until then. But Seiichi knew that the space was essentially rented for his sake.

With the souvenir in hand, he headed toward the apartment. He imagined that Keisuke would ask him how the trip went. But if he made a face and said, “I had a fight with my friend,” Keisuke would probably stop asking about it. And if he acted a little down, Keisuke would undoubtedly let him seek comfort without a word. Naturally, he would also be able to satisfy the desires he hadn’t been able to fulfill with Mari.

He climbed the stairs with a spring in his step, but something felt off when he saw the apartment from the outside. Keisuke’s job at the hotel was only during the day, so at this hour—7 p.m.—he would normally be either taking a bath or eating dinner. Yet the window facing the kitchen was dark.

Maybe he’d gone out to the convenience store to buy cigarettes or alcohol. Thinking he’d wait for him inside, Seiichi took out the spare key and unlocked the door.

Inside, the apartment was pitch black. He reached for the light switch at the entrance, but no matter how many times he flicked it, the lights wouldn’t come on. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he began to make out the room in the dim light filtering through the uncovered windows—it was completely empty.

There was nothing. Not a single thing. The futon, the table, the TV... not even a cup remained. Panicking, he rushed back outside, convinced he must have made a mistake. But the number on the doorplate was unmistakably Keisuke’s.

He stood in the middle of the empty room, feeling as if he had been struck by some surreal, dreamlike confusion, unable to comprehend what could have happened during the three days he had been away.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Seiichi tried calling Keisuke’s cell phone, but the call wouldn’t go through. Feeling utterly lost, he returned to his apartment. When he noticed the blinking light of the answering machine, he rushed to hit the play button. There was only one message, and as his mother’s voice came through, the tension drained from his shoulders. He wasn’t paying much attention until he heard her mention “Keisuke,” which made him whip around in surprise.

“...Also, I’ve got a package here from Keisuke for you. Come pick it up quickly, alright?”

He grabbed his car keys and dashed outside. When he hurried back to his family home, all that awaited him was a small cardboard box.

“It was the day before yesterday, I think, when Keisuke came by to say he was going back to his hometown,” his mother continued chatting away beside him as he stared intently at the box.

“Was it because his aunt suddenly fell ill or something like that?”

His mother frowned at the suggestion.

“Don’t say such ominous things. No, he said he was going back because his training at the hotel here had finished. He mentioned he was grateful for all you did for him.”

Inside the box were Seiichi’s clothes, which he had left at Keisuke’s apartment. On top of them was a postcard from the hotel where Keisuke had been working. When he turned it over, he found a brief message scrawled on the back:

“Thank you for everything.”

That was all it said. It wasn’t strange for Keisuke to return to his hometown—he was bound to leave eventually. But what Seiichi couldn’t accept was how he had left so suddenly, without a word of consultation, and especially during the time when Seiichi was away on his trip. It felt like Keisuke had run away. Frustrated, he tore up the postcard and threw the pieces into the trash.

It was just the loss of a convenient friend-with-benefits. Nothing had really changed. He would just go back to his old life. After all, Keisuke wasn’t someone he had deliberately chosen to be with—he was just there, compliant, willing, and available, so Seiichi had given him his attention.

“You know, what did you ever do for Keisuke? You weren’t causing him trouble, were you?” his mother remarked.

Without answering, Seiichi kicked the cardboard box with a harsh thud.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

At the end of August, Seiichi broke up with Mari. It had only been two months—no, he was amazed that it had even lasted that long. He prided himself on never using violence against women, always playing the role of the perfect feminist, but Mari’s relentless nastiness finally made him snap in the end.

That day, she arrived an hour late for their date. Without a word of apology, she dragged him to an Italian restaurant and then began pleading with him to buy her a handbag.

“It has these round handles, you know, and it’s so cute. We should go look at it together later.”

Mari kept talking enthusiastically, but he found himself growing more and more detached as he listened. He couldn’t get past her tardiness and her utter lack of remorse. He knew what kind of woman she was, and yet he found himself growing increasingly irritated.

“Maybe next time,” he said, deflecting her request about the bag. After that, Mari fell silent. She stirred her iced coffee with a stirrer, a sour look on her face.

“Men without money are so boring,” she said, shrugging her delicate shoulders and giving him a piercing look from beneath her lashes.

“And men who are bad at sex too.”

Seiichi ignored the implication, unwilling to acknowledge who she meant by “bad at sex.” But Mari pushed further.

“I’m tired of your roughness, but being quick is the worst. You should learn how to make your partner enjoy it more.”

That was enough to crush the pride of a man who had, at least to some degree, confidence in his abilities in bed. He held back, but still slapped her once. The sound of it echoed through the restaurant, and Mari ran out crying. He had been worn out from dealing with her selfishness and had no regrets about the breakup.

Immediately after the breakup with Mari, Seiichi found himself going to “Piffle” almost every night. Returning to his messy apartment after work, he’d feel a sinking loneliness, and the only way to keep it at bay was to be around people and talk to someone. Perhaps because she didn’t want to run into him, Mari had stopped showing up at Piffle, choosing to go elsewhere.

One evening, as he sat in a corner of the bar, feeling a vague sense of dissatisfaction, a woman with a short haircut slid into the seat beside him. Noticing his dejected expression, she pouted.

“What’s with that attitude?”

“Oh, it’s you.”

“What do you mean, ‘it’s you’? I came over to comfort you since you looked all lonely sitting here by yourself.”

Keiko, wearing a see-through shirt over her camisole, leaned in, studying his face.

“Everyone’s talking, you know. They’re saying Mari totally wrapped you around her little finger.”

“What the—?”

“What do you mean, ‘what the—’? You’re not upset because Mari dumped you?”

“Like I’d care about a girl like that,” he spat. But Keiko just let out a dismissive snort through her nose.

“Don’t try to act tough. You’ve got the look of a guy who’s been dumped all over your face.”

He sighed, exasperated by her assumptions, and shrugged.

“I don’t care about her anymore. It’s a relief to be done with her. I only started dating her because I wanted to show off that I was with a ‘hot girl.’ My reasons for getting involved with her were shallow from the start.”

Keiko raised her eyebrows, looking puzzled.

“Then you seem to have gotten over it pretty well. So why the gloomy face?”

She pinched his cheek, and the slight pain made him wince. He couldn’t explain it; even though he didn’t care about Mari anymore, he still couldn’t shake this gnawing sense of loneliness.

“I go home, and I’m bored when I’m by myself. I never used to feel that way before, but now…”

“Ah, I see,” Keiko replied, sounding like she understood perfectly.

“I’ve seen guys talk like that before. One of them ended up getting married through an arranged match in less than six months. Looks like you’re finally feeling lonely being single.”

“Maybe.”

“You’re probably tired of playing around in relationships. You’re not getting any younger, so maybe you should start thinking seriously about marriage. I’ve been feeling the same lately. My friends to party with are dwindling, and I think it might be time to settle down.”

The mood between them turned a little more somber, and Keiko let out a soft sigh.

“Must be the autumn air making us all a bit sentimental. If you’re thinking about getting serious and settling down, you should find someone who’s kind. You’re the type who likes to be taken care of.”

The words “someone who’s kind” hit him like a pang in the chest, stirring up memories he didn’t want to revisit.

“Hey...” he began, hesitating over whether to confess as he toyed with a paper coaster between his fingers.

“There was someone else I was seeing around the same time I was with Mari. It kind of fizzled out naturally before things with Mari fell apart... but I find myself thinking about them more than I think about Mari. Mari was supposed to be the main one, but...”

Keiko furrowed her brow.

“Two-timing? That’s the worst.”

“I couldn’t help it. That person liked me a lot, and it just felt comfortable being around them. But after they left, I started feeling this emptiness, and that’s why I kept seeing Mari.”

“Maybe you actually liked that other person more than you liked Mari,” Keiko said bluntly, cutting to the heart of the matter.

“I never felt anything that intense, like being totally crazy about them.”

“Love isn’t always about getting butterflies. Sometimes it’s about feeling calm, being able to be yourself, or just feeling comfortable when they’re around—it can be a gentle kind of love too.”

It was too late for that now, anyway. And besides, the other person was a guy. Falling in love with a man wouldn’t exactly lead anywhere. He had liked Keisuke, sure, but...

Keiko took a sip of her long cocktail.

“Just be careful. If you realize too late that you had feelings for them and try to chase after them, you might find out that it’s too late to fix things.”

Her words carried a weight that stuck with him.

“What do you mean by that?”

“A good catch doesn’t stay single for long. They might already have a new partner by now.”

“That wouldn’t happen.”

“And how can you be so sure?” Keiko challenged, her tone pointed.

“What guarantee do you have that they won’t fall for someone else? If they end up with another man, you’ll feel even worse, thinking about how they used to care about you, how they used to be yours. I’ve missed out on a good guy that way too, so I know what I’m talking about.”

Keiko lit a cigarette.

“If you don’t regret it, then it’s fine.”

Seiichi, feeling a surge of frustration, downed the rest of his beer in one gulp. The bitterness burned sharply down his throat.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

For the first time in ten years, Seiichi found himself back at the countryside station he hadn’t seen since the summer of his second year of high school. The station seemed much more rundown than he remembered. He hadn’t come all this way because of Keiko’s words, but still, he was surprised at his own impulsiveness in making the trip. Passing through the unmanned ticket gate, he looked for a taxi in front of the station, but there wasn’t a single one in sight. There wasn’t even a designated taxi stand.

He hadn’t called ahead, so there was no one to pick him up. Checking the bus schedule, he couldn’t believe his eyes—the next bus wouldn’t arrive for another hour. Left with no other option, he sat down on a plastic bench plastered with advertisements for a local drugstore.

When he felt down, when he needed to talk about something important, it was always Keisuke he wanted to see. And the conclusion he’d reached was that he couldn’t bear to lose him. He had come all this way intending to ask Keisuke to return to the city—to stay by his side.

What Seiichi couldn’t understand was why Keisuke had left so abruptly. According to his mother, it was because his hotel training had ended, but it didn’t make sense that Keisuke had left without saying a word to him. Had he found out that Seiichi went on a trip with Mari and gotten angry about it? Seiichi hadn’t told him about Mari, but he had taken calls from her in front of him more than once, so maybe Keisuke had picked up on it. It seemed most likely that Keisuke had been jealous of Mari. If that were the case, the solution was simple—he just needed to apologize. He could explain that he had broken up with Mari and that it was Keisuke, not her, who he truly wanted by his side. Keisuke was kind—if Seiichi apologized sincerely, surely he would forgive him.

If the conversation went well, maybe they could make love in the short time before he had to leave. The thought of touching that pale skin and being held in those gentle arms sent a shiver of excitement through his lower belly.

A vacant taxi finally passed by, and he hurried to flag it down and climbed in. Once they left the station, the scenery quickly changed, giving way to a long, straight road running through golden fields of rice, ready for harvest. The stalks stretched out like a carpet, gently waving under the soft September sunlight.

After about fifteen minutes, the taxi arrived at the inn run by Keisuke’s mother. Three hours by bullet train, then another hour on a local line—it had taken him nearly half a day to get here.

He walked slowly up the hill. A woman was sweeping the yard in front of the inn, and when she noticed him, she gave a friendly nod. He wondered for a moment, then realized—it was his aunt. She recognized him, too, and let out a surprised cry as she hurried over.

“Seiichi! Is that really you!”

Though she was his mother’s younger sister, her face looked much older, something that surprised him, though he didn’t mention it.

“It’s been a long time,” he replied.

“Keisuke was really grateful for everything you did for him in the city.”

“It wasn’t any trouble at all,” Seiichi said, glancing around the dilapidated inn and its sparse garden.

“This place hasn’t changed much since I was in high school. I happened to be in the area for work and thought I’d stop by out of nostalgia.”

His aunt gave a wry smile.

“It’s gotten more rundown every year. There aren’t many jobs around here, so all the young people move to the city. But, my, you’ve grown into such a handsome young man, Seiichi.”

“Oh, not really…”

Even if it was just a polite compliment, being praised for his looks didn’t feel bad.

“I bet the girls love you. You’re not married yet, are you?”

“I’ve been busy with work...” he mumbled, pretending to peer into the inn’s interior.

“Is Keisuke here?”

“He’s out running some errands right now. He should be back soon, though.”

Before she could finish, the sound of a sputtering engine reached them. A worn-out van with the inn’s name painted on the side pulled into the parking lot near the entrance.

Keisuke stepped out, wearing a white T-shirt and faded jeans.

“Keisuke!” his aunt called out. He turned, having just pulled something out of the back of the van, and froze when he saw Seiichi standing there.

“Seiichi’s here to see you. You should at least thank him for everything he did for you in the city.”

Prompted by his mother’s words, Keisuke finally seemed to register Seiichi’s presence. His face showed genuine surprise.

“Oh, right. But give me a second—I need to put away these perishables,” he said.

A few minutes later, Keisuke emerged from the inn wearing geta sandals, standing beside his mother with a bright, cheerful smile.

“It’s been a while... or maybe not that long. Thanks for everything back in the city. So, what brings you here today?”

“He said he was here for work,” his aunt answered for him. Keisuke nodded. “Oh, I see.”

“Do you need to head back right away? If not, you should stay over. We don’t have any guests today, anyway.”

Keisuke kept up his friendly smile the whole time, while Seiichi felt unreasonably tense, unable to relax or find his voice. He couldn’t understand why he was the only one feeling so anxious and flustered.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

When Seiichi mentioned that he planned to take the local train departing at 6 p.m., Keisuke’s aunt offered to prepare an early dinner so that they could eat together. Once Seiichi was shown to a room, barely seated, Keisuke spoke up.

“If you’re up for it, would you like to take a walk outside before dinner?”

Seiichi had come here specifically to talk, and this was the perfect chance for the two of them to be alone.

“It’s a bit of a hike up the mountain, though,” Keisuke added.

“I don’t mind at all,” Seiichi replied.

The walk was just an excuse; Keisuke likely had something he wanted to talk about too. They entered the woods behind the inn, walking along a dimly lit path through the trees. For a moment, Seiichi wondered if Keisuke was leading him somewhere more private for other reasons, but the path was too steep and narrow for that. Eventually, the trail opened up, revealing a wide view.

“Most of the guests who come here from spring through summer are fishermen. See that stream over there?” Keisuke pointed, and sure enough, a narrow, winding river was visible.

“This area has hot springs too. About two years ago, the locals worked together to dig a communal hot spring, and our inn draws water from the source. We promote it as a hot spring inn now. The quality’s pretty good, so if you have time, you should take a dip.”

The low-angled sunlight stretched their shadows long and thin. Keisuke kept walking, and Seiichi reached out on impulse, running his fingers through Keisuke’s short hair as it swayed in the breeze. Keisuke stopped and turned around.

“Why did you leave so suddenly?” Seiichi asked.

Keisuke met his gaze but didn’t respond.

“What if I told you that I only used the ‘work trip’ as an excuse, and that I really came to take you back with me?”

The wind rustled through the leaves, mirroring the turmoil in Seiichi’s chest. Sunlight filtered through the thick foliage, casting dappled light across Keisuke’s pale cheek.

“Let’s go a bit further up,” Keisuke suggested, turning to continue up the trail. Seiichi followed, confused as to why he hadn’t answered. His legs carried him quickly up the mountain path until he couldn’t hold back anymore and grabbed Keisuke’s shoulder.

“Say something,” he demanded.

“We’re here. Isn’t it beautiful?” Keisuke replied, gesturing toward the view ahead. What Seiichi saw was a glittering sea, reflecting the evening sun. The railroad tracks and the stunning coastline spread out before them.

“The weather’s clear today, so you can see all the way to the horizon. I always wanted to show this to you, and it’s been on my mind ever since,” Keisuke said. As Seiichi tried to think of what to say, Keisuke suddenly gripped his arm tightly. It only lasted a moment, but the gesture left Seiichi speechless.

“Right after I came back home, an acquaintance introduced me to a nice girl, and we had a matchmaking meeting. She works as a clerk at a small company, and she’s really kind. We’re getting engaged in December and will be married by February.”

Seiichi couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“She’s even said she’ll help out with the inn, and my mom really likes her.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Seiichi shook Keisuke by the shoulders.

“That poor girl doesn’t deserve this.”

Keisuke gave him a puzzled look.

“Why do you think she’d be the one to suffer? I want to marry her. I want to have children.”

“But you’re in love with me.”

This was an undeniable truth. Seiichi knew that, which was why he had come all this way to bring him back.

“You were kind to me because you loved me. That’s why we had sex so many times.”

Keisuke lowered his gaze, looking troubled.

“Is this because I lied to you and borrowed money? Are you angry, and that’s why you’re doing this out of spite?”

“You lied about that?”

It was then that Seiichi realized Keisuke truly hadn’t known about the trip with Mari.

“Hmm, but I considered the money a gift to you. I didn’t care how you used it, as long as you enjoyed yourself.”

Frustrated, Seiichi tightened his grip on Keisuke’s slender shoulders. A hint of pain flickered across Keisuke’s pale face.

“So, you knew I had a girlfriend?”

Keisuke lowered his lashes.

“I wasn’t sure, but I suspected it.”

“I’ll be honest with you. I did have a girlfriend, but we broke up at the end of August. I don’t have any lingering feelings for her. But I can’t stand the thought of you being gone.”

“Seiichi...” Keisuke’s voice rang out clearly through Seiichi’s chaotic, frenzied thoughts.

“Could you let go of my shoulders? You’re hurting me...”

Seiichi hurriedly released him, and Keisuke took a deep breath, rolling his shoulders before running a hand through his hair.

“It didn’t matter to me if you had a girlfriend or even if you were married. I was happy just being near you.”

Seiichi listened in disbelief.

“I thought, if I could just live in the same city as you, maybe we’d run into each other by chance, and that would be enough. I never imagined you’d pay so much attention to me.”

Keisuke’s voice trailed off into a quiet murmur.

“Ten years ago, you promised you’d come for me after you graduated high school. But when your letters started to become short and impersonal, or stopped coming altogether, I knew it was probably over. Even so, a part of me kept hoping, ‘maybe, just maybe.’ But as the years went by, even that hope faded away.”

Seiichi couldn’t offer any excuses. He had broken his promise, and it was true that he had never apologized for it, not in ten years.

“My mother was taking care of my father during his long illness, so it was basically just me and one of the maids running the inn. This year, when my father died and my mother returned to help at the inn, I found myself without much to do. We never had many guests to begin with. That’s when my mother said to me, ‘If there’s something you want to do—travel, study, whatever it may be—just go for it.’”

Keisuke’s expression turned somber.

“I think it was my mother’s way of trying to make up for what I missed out on as a child. She knew I’d wanted to go to college back then.”

He twined his fingers around a brittle twig hanging in front of his face and snapped it with a sharp crack.

“Even with the freedom to do what I wanted, I had no idea where to start. I never really had any hobbies. That’s when memories from the past came back, and I realized I wanted to see you. I wanted to see you so badly…”

Keisuke gave a small, wistful smile.

“I told everyone I was going to study at a friend’s hotel in Tokyo, but that was just an excuse.”

He glanced down slightly.

“The truth is, I just wanted to see you.”

“Kei...”

Seiichi reached out, but Keisuke stepped back, evading his touch.

“Seeing you and being able to talk about the past, to laugh about old times—that would have been enough for me. I was happy just to have your attention. Being with you was fun, and I was never bored.”

“If it was so fun, then why did you suddenly leave?” Seiichi demanded.

Keisuke looked at him with a serious expression.

“I couldn’t afford the rent on my apartment anymore.”

The answer seemed almost like a joke.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, that’s…”

“I’m not kidding.”

Keisuke shook his head slowly.

“The cost of living in the city was higher than I’d expected. I had some savings, so I thought I could manage for a year even with the low wages at the hotel. But I miscalculated, and the money ran out before I knew it. Maybe I spent too much on unnecessary things.”

Seiichi recalled the expensive clothes, the impulsive purchases, the meals they had shared without ever being asked to chip in, the money he’d borrowed for the trip with Mari. Keisuke had never had much money to begin with.

“Come back to Tokyo.”

“I can’t. I don’t have the money.”

“You don’t need money—just come stay with me. You wouldn’t have to worry about rent.”

Keisuke smiled—a genuine smile. It didn’t feel like he was being mocked, but Seiichi couldn’t understand why Keisuke found it funny.

“You and I have different personalities, different values. It wouldn’t work for long. To be honest, the inn isn’t doing so well. That’s why I’m letting go of the maid who’s helped us for so many years. My mom can’t run the place alone, so I’ll be staying to help out. I won’t have the freedom to leave anymore. But it means a lot that you came all this way and asked me to come back. Thank you.”

Everything was different—ten years ago, a month ago, and now. The inn’s situation, Keisuke’s choice to marry... The reality of it all settled in, filling Seiichi with a quiet despair. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t bring Keisuke back with him back to the city. Even if Keisuke still had feelings for him, he wouldn’t abandon his mother. Seiichi understood that better than anyone, having relied on that kindness.

He wanted to say, “Forget everything and come with me.” He wanted it so badly, it was like an ache in his throat. But he held back, pretending he had it all together, and pulled out a cigarette. Yet his fingers were trembling, making it difficult to light it.

“If that’s how you feel, then I guess I have to accept it. But you know, maybe it’s time to just close down that struggling inn. Your mom could retire, and you could come with me.”

Keisuke chuckled. “It's impossible. My mom treasures the inn. It’s the place my father left for us.”

“Is this really okay? If you don’t come with me now, I might never ask you again.”

It was a light threat, a last-ditch effort to see if Keisuke would waver and reconsider.

“Dreams always come to an end,” Keisuke said, his face tinged with sadness. “Just like how our time together back in high school lasted exactly three weeks—not more, not less.”

He hesitated, then continued. “And there’s no such thing as a happiness that lasts forever. I’ve never seen it.”

Seiichi shrugged, pretending not to care. “It can’t be helped. You've got your own life to live, after all.”

It was all he could muster to hide his frustration. Keisuke smiled gently, his expression serene.

“To be honest,” Keisuke said, “I was really surprised when I saw you today. I never thought you’d come all the way out here for me.”

“And yet, you say that to the one who chased after you,” Seiichi replied, half-laughing.

“I know... I’m sorry,” Keisuke said, looking down.

“What did you even like about me?” Seiichi asked. He’d lost count of how many times they’d had sex, of how many times Keisuke had leaned on him, but he’d never really loved him in return. He’d been affectionate but never truly kind.

“I don’t really know,” Keisuke admitted. “I don’t even understand why it was you. But...”

He tilted his head thoughtfully. “When I was seventeen, I really loved you. Every day felt like a dream. Even now, when I think back on those days, I still feel happy.”

Keisuke smiled, a radiant, gentle smile, and extended his hand.

“I’m going to be happy. And I’ll pray that you find happiness, too. Just knowing you’re happy will be enough for me.”

At that moment, Seiichi finally understood who Keisuke Himi really was. All along, Keisuke had loved him, but he had never tried to impose that love on him. That was why Keisuke had never once asked for more, had never initiated anything—not even sex. He had simply given Seiichi what he wanted, as much as he could, without asking for anything in return.

Seiichi had never known a love like that. He had never realized such a love existed.

Finally, he understood Keisuke. But understanding didn’t change anything—it only made him realize how powerless he was to do anything about it.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

After returning from the walk, he declined his aunt’s heartfelt prepared dinner, saying he had decided to catch an earlier train, and soon set out on his journey back. Keisuke drove him to the station, but neither of them spoke a word during the ride.

They arrived at the station ten minutes before the train was due to arrive. Instead of entering the platform, he sat down on a bench, and Keisuke silently sat next to him. He only bought his ticket just before the train arrived, prompted by Keisuke's reminder that it was almost time. Even after he went through the ticket gate, Keisuke remained standing right in front of it, unmoving. It seemed he intended to see him off until the train departed.

"That's enough, go home," he said brusquely, but Keisuke didn't leave. The platform soon filled with the noisy approach of the incoming train.

"Thank you for coming to see me," Keisuke said, his voice loud enough to rise above the noise of the train. Without turning back, he boarded the train. It was at that moment—

"Goodbye."

He turned around to see Keisuke waving. The doors closed, and the train began to move slowly. Within seconds, Keisuke’s figure was gone from sight.

Seiichi found a seat by the window in the nearly empty train. He rested his elbow on the window frame, pressing his fingertips against his cheek as he stared absentmindedly at the golden rice fields stretching out before him.

The train rattled along, its rhythmic clanking echoing in the quiet car. Beyond the fields, a low hill rose in the distance, and he caught a glimpse of the old inn nestled at its base. On instinct, he turned to look in the opposite direction.

The sea came into view—glimmering orange under the sunset. Tears welled up in his eyes. It must be because the sea was too bright, he thought, closing his eyes. The warmth of the evening sun on his cheek felt gentle. It reminded him so much of Keisuke.

He felt a surge of bitterness toward Keisuke, toward the man who had showered him with unconditional love. He resented the way he had been given everything, only to be abandoned in the end. The memories that surfaced were of tender arms and words, soft lips, and warm, pale skin. He longed for them, missed them, but there was nothing he could do about the situation, and the pain stabbed at his heart, making him writhe in solitude.

Maybe there will never be anyone who loves him like that again. Maybe he will never find anyone like that. And even more... he wasn't sure if he would ever find someone whom he could want as desperately as he had wanted Keisuke.

The man who had declared that happiness never lasts forever. Was he the one who had planted that belief in Keisuke's mind? Was it his own fault for betraying Keisuke again and again, never once allowing him to believe in something lasting? He wanted to tell him that such a sad thing doesn't exist, that it's absolutely not true, but he lacked the credibility to prove it.

Ten years—ten long years of precious feelings that Keisuke had held onto. If only he could spend the next ten years wishing for Keisuke's happiness... if he could truly do that...

Would he then be able to stand tall, to tell Keisuke that he loved him, to ask for his trust? That was the thought that crossed his mind.

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