Innocent World: Chapter 13

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The number of beer bottles in the basket had increased to four, and Yamamura naturally found himself handed a plastic bag. "If you carry them for me, I'll treat you to some beer as a tip," he'd been told.

The rain kept falling, just as it had been. There wasn’t anyone else walking along the road.

"Hey," he called out to the quack doctor walking beside him.

"How do you say 'I love you' in Hirokuni's language?"

Ochiai turned his head, confused. "What was that?" The sound of the rain hitting the ground and bouncing off their umbrellas was loud, so Yamamura spoke up.

"Something like, 'I really love you,' or whatever."

Ochiai came to a stop. "That’s a tough one. Concrete things, like bananas or pots, things where you can see their shape, those are easy. But abstract stuff like feelings, it’s hard to map them directly to Japanese. It’s not exactly the same as how we say 'I love you' here, but there is a word that has the nuance of 'adorable.' But, y'know, whether it’s a thing or a person, if they like it, it’s 'adorable.' Small animals, beautiful women, young girls, their own kids, they’ll all say 'adorable,' so I’m not sure it’s quite right."

"Why's it so vague?" Yamamura grumbled.

"They don’t break emotions down into categories like we do. I don’t think they see the need to. Oh, I know! Yamamura-kun, how about joining me on a trip to the Amazon next time? We could get Hiro-chan to show us around!"

"What’s that got to do with anything?" Yamamura shot back, confused.

Ochiai snapped his fingers, as if struck by a brilliant idea. "We’ll experience the life of the Indigenous Peoples! Instead of trying to understand it all in your head, you’ll just get it naturally. You might even find yourself wanting to leave behind the everyday world."

"No way. Besides, there’s nothing over there, is there?"

"That’s exactly why it’s great. Once you experience their lifestyle, you’ll start thinking how silly it is to work yourself to the bone back in Japan."

"I told you, no."

Yamamura thought he was joking, but Ochiai’s face suddenly looked genuinely sad.

"Sure, the bugs are something else, and there are snakes, and jaguars are scary, but it’s a nice place. I think you’d like it. I’d like to go one last time myself."

His voice was sinking lower and lower.

"Well... if I’m ever in the mood, maybe."

Yamamura mumbled evasively, starting to walk again. The once-heavy rain was gradually softening. As the gentler sound of the raindrops reached his ears, he couldn’t help but wonder, ridiculously, whether Hirokuni was missing him right now.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

It was the first Tuesday of September. The first house had signed the contract, but the second and third were complete misses. Still, landing one contract per day wasn’t bad. Feeling somewhat satisfied with the day’s results, Yamamura returned to the office. In the hallway, he saw Tsuboi, now in his second year at the company, and their section chief deep in conversation in the corner. However, the moment they noticed Yamamura, they both fell silent, as if on cue. It was unpleasant, and the fact that they’d gone out of their way to talk in the hallway was suspicious. But Yamamura wasn’t particularly interested, so he casually ignored it and stepped into the office.

As he was organizing the contracts he’d secured today at his desk, Tsuboi called out to him. When Yamamura turned around, he saw Tsuboi glaring at him with an unusually sharp expression.

"It’s about Nishida... Do you know where he went?"

"He said his family’s shop was having a grand reopening, so he went back to help out since yesterday," Yamamura replied.

Nishida had taken two consecutive days off, Monday and Tuesday.

"Where’s his hometown?"

"Wasn’t it Fukushima? It should be on the roster."

"It’s not on the roster, that’s why I’m asking you. Aren’t you close with him? How come you don’t know?"

Tsuboi’s tone was accusatory, and it began to irritate Yamamura.

"How should I know his family details? If it’s urgent, just call his cell."

Yamamura raised his voice, and Tsuboi hurriedly apologized, "Ah, never mind. Sorry," and slinked back to his desk. Even after Yamamura had finished his work, Tsuboi was still there. Considering he hadn’t secured any contracts today, what was he still doing? Yamamura peeked over his shoulder from behind, only to find him doing nothing. His computer screen was black, and there were no documents in front of him. He was just sitting there, his elbows resting on the desk, staring blankly with a troubled look on his face. …It was unsettling.

"Aren’t you going home?"

Tsuboi must’ve heard him, but he didn’t respond. As Yamamura left the office, the image of Tsuboi’s troubled expression kept nagging at him. I’m too soft… he thought, but nonetheless sent a quick message to Nishida: “Tsuboi seems like he needs something, so give him a call when you have time.”

After leaving the station, Yamamura headed straight for the clinic. He hadn’t received an email from Ochiai about picking up Hirokuni, but sometimes Ochiai forgot to send a message or didn’t notice when his phone’s battery ran out. Sure enough, when Yamamura went around to the residence part of the clinic and slid open the door, Hirokuni’s shoes were by the entrance.

"Oi, old man, at least send me a message," he muttered as he walked down the creaky hallway and peeked into the living room. The quack doctor was curled up on the tatami mats. At first, Yamamura thought Ochiai was drunk at such an early hour, but something was off. The way he was lying there wasn’t right, and he didn’t reek of alcohol, either.

"Ugh… ugh…"

A low groan escaped, and Yamamura finally realized something was seriously wrong.

"Hey! Old man! What’s going on?!"

Panicking, he rushed over. Ochiai’s face was deathly pale, and beads of sweat were forming on his forehead.

"Stay with me! Are you alright?!"

No matter what Yamamura said, all Ochiai could do was groan. Yamamura’s hands trembled as he fumbled for his phone. His mind was a mess, and he couldn’t remember if the number for an ambulance was 110 or 119. After accidentally dialing 110 and reaching the police, he quickly hung up and called 119 instead.

"Hey, old man! Hold on! I’ve called an ambulance, alright?!"

Fear gripped him. A terrible fear. If the old man died before the ambulance arrived… Yamamura felt a chill run down his spine. He couldn’t bear that thought.

"Get a hold of yourself!"

He shouted, and at last, Ochiai opened his eyes.

"...Nitro... bring it…"

"Nitro?"

"...From the clinic... Nit...ro… Hiro…kun doesn’t… under…stand…"

Before Ochiai could finish, there was a loud clatter from the clinic. Yamamura’s legs shook as he scrambled down the hallway and burst into the examination room. Inside, the room was a chaotic mess, as if a burglar had ransacked the place. In the center of it all, Hirokuni was angrily pulling open drawers from the shelves. When he noticed Yamamura, Hirokuni looked at him with pleading eyes, saying, "Medicine… for father."

Due to his job, Yamamura often had to talk with elderly people. Once they hit sixty, it was common for everyone to have a condition or two. "When your chest starts pounding, you take nitro, dear," a grandmother had once told him. Could Ochiai have a heart condition, too? If so, this was life-threatening. The more he thought about it, the more frantic he became. He had to find the medicine, fast.

Yamamura checked the overturned medicine cabinet Hirokuni had rummaged through once more. Every small medicine case had a label with the drug names, but there was no sign of anything labeled "nitro." His palms were sweating. But, but Ochiai had definitely said "nitro."

Could it be... Yamamura thought, turning away from the medicine cabinet and opening the drawer of the examination desk instead. There it was—a medicine bag with Ochiai's name on it, from a nearby general hospital. Grabbing it, Yamamura rushed back to Ochiai. He dumped the contents of the bag beside the quack doctor’s face. Ochiai managed to take one of the pills himself.

"…Thanks, Yamamura-kun."

Even after taking the medicine, Ochiai still looked like he was in pain, and Yamamura felt on the verge of tears. Hirokuni was watching from the corner of the room, his eyes glued to the scene. At last, the sound of an ambulance siren reached them. Yamamura turned to Hirokuni, leaving him with a quick, "Go home ahead of me," before climbing into the ambulance with Ochiai.

On the way, Yamamura called the general hospital where Hirokuni had first been treated for a cold, asking them to connect him with Dr. Ochiai, an internist. Ochiai was taken to the hospital where his son worked. The son must’ve still been on duty because he came out to meet them at the emergency entrance.

Once Ochiai had been handed over to his doctor son, Yamamura finally felt a wave of relief wash over him. He watched the quack doctor being wheeled into the hospital from the hallway, and afterward, he took the train home. All the tension drained from him, leaving him limp in his seat on the train. The last hour had passed like a whirlwind.

Although he had told Hirokuni to go home, Yamamura couldn’t shake the worry of whether he had locked up properly. On his way home, he decided to swing by Ochiai’s house again. The main building's lights were on. Hirokuni’s shoes were still by the entrance. When Yamamura peeked into the living room, he saw Hirokuni sitting there, hunched over on the tatami, looking small and helpless. Unable to stop himself, Yamamura blurted out, "Ochiai’s gonna be fine."

"He’s going to be okay, so… let’s go home."

Yamamura reached out his hand, and Hirokuni slowly stood up. Yamamura made sure the windows were locked and turned off the lights. Knowing where the house key was usually kept—next to the TV in the living room—he used it to lock the front door, then dropped it into the mailbox.

He called the hospital where Ochiai’s son worked again. The son seemed busy, so Yamamura just asked him to pass on the message that the house key had been left in the mailbox.

On the way back to the apartment, neither Hirokuni nor Yamamura said a word. Yamamura asked once, "Have you eaten?" but Hirokuni didn’t respond.

Even after they entered the apartment, Hirokuni sat by the window, knees drawn up to his chest, staring vacantly. Yamamura walked over from behind and wrapped his arms around him, gently shaking him as if he were comforting a child. At first, Hirokuni resisted slightly, but soon enough, he leaned back into Yamamura’s arms.

"Ochiai’s going to be fine. He’s a doctor, after all. And he’s got a smart son to take care of him."

As Yamamura spoke, he found his own words oddly reassuring. That man may be a lazy drunk, but he’s still a doctor. Even if he’s a quack, he’s still a doctor. There’s no way he’s going to die that easily.

Feeling a sudden brightness from outside, Yamamura lifted his head. A large moon had risen in the sky.

"God… not… see," Hirokuni murmured softly.

"God… abandon… himself… bad… let out… can not."

Yamamura couldn’t quite grasp what Hirokuni was trying to say, but his sad tone made it clear it wasn’t anything good. Maybe he wanted to perform some strange kind of exorcism, like that nuisance of a ritual he’d tried when he had a cold before. But human illnesses can’t be cured by rituals. Hugging the grieving boy tightly, Yamamura gently stroked Hirokuni’s head, which was bowed with a near-tearful expression, and said, "Let’s go visit Ochiai together, alright?"

◇:-:◆:-:◇

It had been exactly a week since Ochiai had collapsed. A little past 9 PM, there was a knock at the door. It was too late for newspaper or other sales pitches, so when he opened the door, it turned out to be the old hag from next door.

It had been a while since he last saw her, as she hadn’t been around much lately. When he and Hirokuni had sex, they were usually careful not to be too loud when the old hag was nearby, just in case. But for the past three weeks or so, she had been in and out at night, so they hadn’t worried as much.

"I’ve got something for you."

She handed him a paper bag. Inside were some pastries, a notebook, and a letter.

"It’s from someone named Ochiai. He looked to be in his thirties, quite well-mannered. He wanted to see you, but it seemed like he was in a hurry."

At the mention of Ochiai, for a moment, he thought the quack doctor had recovered. But hearing "in his thirties" made him realize it must be the son.

"Thank you for going out of your way."

"It’s no big deal. By the way, did you buy a thermometer?"

The question was completely out of nowhere.

"No, not yet."

The old hag let out a long, dramatic sigh.

"Honestly, this is why men never learn. Even after all that happened. Here, take this. It’s old, so don’t hesitate to use it."

She pulled out the digital thermometer he had borrowed once before.

"Oh, but..."

"I’m moving out tomorrow. Going to live with my daughter."

"That’s great news," he said.

The old hag shrugged. "Not really. You know what my daughter’s up to? She’s going back to work, so she’s planning to make me babysit during the day. That girl’s going to work me to the bone."

Despite her words, there was a hint of amusement in her expression.

"I’ll be gone by midday tomorrow, so we probably won’t see each other again. And stop living off convenience store meals. If you’re going to buy food, get the prepared dishes from Ishizaka Store. The seasoning’s lighter, and they don’t use too much salt. But really, instead of buying ready-made meals, you should hurry up and get yourself a wife to cook for you. You’re a decent-looking guy, you know."

When she laughed, the sagging skin on her cheeks jiggled, and the silver fillings in her teeth gleamed in the light.

"Tell that boy too. He should find himself a cute girlfriend. Oh, and the candied apple—was that you? Thanks. I was really happy."

With a final "Take care," the old hag went back to her apartment. He wanted to thank her again, but his lips wouldn’t move right, and by the time he fumbled through his hesitation, the door to the next apartment had already closed. The sound of it shutting felt oddly lonely, and Yamamura clenched his teeth tightly.

When he returned to his room, Hirokuni was staring at him, clearly curious about what had been said.

"The old hag next door is moving tomorrow."

"Moving?"

"Yeah, she’s going to live with her daughter."

Hirokuni seemed to think about that for a moment before asking, "Far away?"

"Who knows... maybe," Yamamura said, placing the thermometer on the table before pulling the letter out of the paper bag. He handed the pastries to Hirokuni. "You can have these."

Immediately, Hirokuni tore into the packaging with a loud crackle.

The letter was from Ochiai’s son, expressing gratitude for Yamamura’s help when Ochiai collapsed and for calling the ambulance. It explained that Ochiai had been transferred from the hospital where his son worked to a larger facility and had undergone emergency surgery. Although the surgery was successful, Ochiai was still in critical condition and would need a long hospital stay. The letter concluded by mentioning that before the surgery, Ochiai had insisted that a certain notebook be given to Yamamura, and the son was fulfilling that request.

There were two notebooks. Ochiai had been interviewing Hirokuni about his daily life and tribal customs, and the notebooks were filled with detailed descriptions of the village and its traditions. Ochiai had once joked, "I’m making a Hiro-chan notebook," but Yamamura had never asked to see it since he wasn’t particularly interested in Hirokuni’s life back there.

Why now, of all times, did Ochiai choose to entrust the notebooks to him? Was he preparing for the possibility that he might not survive? But the letter said the surgery was successful.

Yamamura couldn’t make sense of it. He wanted to ask about Ochiai’s condition, but he wasn’t a relative, so he couldn’t intrude that much. Even though Ochiai had fed him dinner nearly every night and they drank beer together, in the end, they were just acquaintances. If something happened to Ochiai, Yamamura wouldn’t be notified.

Forcing himself to cut off the dark thoughts, Yamamura reassured himself: Ochiai had the surgery, so he’d recover. He would recover. When he did, Yamamura thought, he’d take him to the Amazon or wherever he wanted to go. He’d bring Hirokuni along, and they’d drink as much beer as they wanted, even in the middle of the day.

"Hiro," he called out.

Hirokuni, who had been stuffing his face with the pound cake from Ochiai’s son, turned around. His mouth was smeared with crumbs like a child’s, and he licked his dirty fingers clean.

"Ochiai’s not coming back for a while," Yamamura said.

"Ochiai... die?"

The bluntness of the question made Yamamura's heart freeze for a moment.

"Idiot, don’t say that. He’s going to get better."

Yamamura pulled Hirokuni into a rough embrace from behind.

"You’re lonely, huh? You won’t be able to go to the clinic for a while. And with the old hag next door leaving, you won’t get to eat her tasty stews anymore either."

Hirokuni unwrapped another piece of pound cake and pressed it against Yamamura’s lips from behind. He didn’t have much of an appetite, but he opened his mouth and accepted Hirokuni’s small gesture of kindness.

That night, Yamamura held Hirokuni against his chest as they slept. He didn’t feel like having sex. It was enough just to feel the warmth of Hirokuni in his arms.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Even after his two-day leave, Nishida didn’t show up at work. The manager didn’t say anything, so it seemed like something might have happened with his family. Yamamura, feeling concerned, sent him two emails, but there was no response to either. His phone didn’t connect either. Is he so busy he can’t even reply? Yamamura wondered, tilting his head in confusion.

It had been a rough day. From morning to night, he hadn’t managed to land a single deal. After 8 PM, he returned to the office. On the elevator ride up, he found himself next to Tsuboi. Tsuboi kept his head down, avoiding eye contact. Ever since Tsuboi had ignored him the other day, things had been awkward between them. Yamamura didn’t like the idea of staying on bad terms with a colleague, so he decided to break the silence.

"Have you heard anything from Nishida?" he asked.

Tsuboi looked up and glared. "Of course not," he snapped.

The hostility in his response made Yamamura bristle. "There’s no need to talk like that."

Tsuboi clenched his teeth. "Yamamura-san, aren’t you actually in on this with Nishida?"

"What the hell are you talking about? I don’t understand what you’re saying."

"You don’t get it? He ran off!" Tsuboi growled through gritted teeth.

Ran off? A chill ran through Yamamura's chest. He had a bad feeling.

"He pitched us this whole thing about starting a company, got us to pay up for startup costs, and then he took off with the money!" Tsuboi spat, his voice rising as the elevator chimed, signaling their arrival.

"He kept buttering us up, saying we were capable, and asking us to go into business together, and then he disappeared. It’s not just me—Akitsu and Sato-san were scammed too," Tsuboi said as they stepped out of the elevator.

Yamamura felt sweat slowly gather under his armpits. Tsuboi leaned against the hallway wall, crossing his arms with an angry look on his face.

"He even made sure to tell us to keep quiet about it. Said that if the manager found out we were quitting to start a business, he’d make our lives hell, so we had to keep it a secret until the last minute," Tsuboi said, his fist slamming into the wall with a loud bang.

"I’m married, you know! I convinced my wife to let me dip into our savings for this! And that bastard... If I ever find him, I swear I’ll kill him!" Tsuboi’s voice raged, but it felt distant to Yamamura, as if fading into the background.

Nishida’s words echoed in his mind.

"I really value your sales skills, Yamamura-san."

"I wanted to work with you."

All those flattering words that had stroked his ego—they had all been lies. In the end, four of them had been conned by Nishida. He made off with nearly 10 million yen.

Yamamura never imagined he’d be the kind of person to get scammed. He had trusted the man Nishida introduced, a guy named Kataoka. Tsuboi had met Kataoka too, but something had seemed off to him when Kataoka explained the details of the insurance sales job. Tsuboi had experience in insurance sales, so he had sensed something fishy. Still, he had trusted Kataoka’s seemingly honest personality and handed over the money. Then Nishida took time off, and Tsuboi started to grow suspicious.

...They had already filed a police report. But without a contract or proof of payment, there was no real chance of getting their money back.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Even though he wasn’t asleep, Yamamura almost missed his stop. It was only then that he realized how distracted he had been.

After exiting the station, he found himself standing in front of the clinic. His feet had brought him here out of habit, since he usually came to pick up Hirokuni. On the clinic door, there was a sign: “Closed temporarily due to the doctor’s illness.” Yamamura walked around to the main house, but the front door was securely locked.

As he returned to his apartment, he could see from a distance that the light was on in his room. A deep sense of relief washed over him. His pace quickened naturally.

When he reached his door and was fishing for his keys in his bag, he heard a rustling sound next door. The tag left by the gas company on the doorknob of the empty apartment was swaying in the wind.

He opened the door. The lights were blazing inside, just as they had appeared from the street. But Hirokuni wasn’t there. His shoes were by the entrance, but there was no sign of him.

“Hiro?”

The front window was wide open, and the curtains flapped violently in the wind. Yamamura stood frozen in the bright, empty room. Hirokuni was gone… He’d left. But his shoes were still here? Then again, Hirokuni often walked outside barefoot. Why did he leave? Everything had seemed normal this morning. There hadn’t been even a hint that he was planning to go. What had happened? What had Yamamura done to drive him away?

He was reminded of when his mother left him when he was seventeen. She had disappeared without leaving a note or any money. There had been no lingering attachments, just a clean cut.

“…This has to be a joke. Wait a second.”

Yamamura pressed his palm to his forehead. A strong gust of wind blew through the open window, sending light objects flying around the room. People who left him rarely came back. That’s how it had always been.

He heard the sound of running water. Yamamura turned around and lunged for the bathroom door. He yanked the shower curtain aside. Hirokuni turned to look at him. Yamamura jumped into the bathtub, into the warm shower spray, and hugged Hirokuni tightly.

"Wet," Hirokuni muttered.

But Yamamura didn’t care. He kissed Hirokuni’s wet face and reached for his body. Though Hirokuni resisted at first, disliking the idea of doing it while standing, he quieted down once Yamamura was inside him.

Yamamura discarded his soaked suit into the bathtub and led Hirokuni to the bed. No matter how many times he thrust into him, no matter how many times he poured himself inside, the deep sense of unease gnawing at Yamamura wouldn’t disappear.

In the middle of the night, Yamamura awoke to the sensation of Hirokuni moving. He reached out, wrapping an arm around Hirokuni’s stomach to stop him from getting out of bed.

“…Where are you going?”

“My… belly.”

Yamamura remembered he hadn’t fed him dinner before dragging him into bed. When he let go, Hirokuni, still completely naked, opened the lid of the bento box that had been left on the floor. Though Hirokuni had recently gotten into the habit of using a fork, he was so hungry this time that he couldn’t wait and began eating with his hands. Within minutes, he’d devoured the entire bento.

Hirokuni pulled out Yamamura’s untouched bento and began tearing open the packaging.

“Yummy. Eat,” Hirokuni said.

“…I don’t need any. You can eat it,” Yamamura replied.

Hirokuni came over to the bed, holding the bento, and scooped up some rice with his fingers, pressing it to Yamamura’s lips.

“I said I’m fine,” Yamamura insisted, turning his head away. But the rice followed, chasing his mouth persistently. Relenting, Yamamura took a bite. Hirokuni scooped more rice and pushed it toward him again. It became too much trouble to resist, so Yamamura chewed the food that Hirokuni was feeding him, silently accepting it like a baby bird taking food from its parent.

For a moment, Yamamura felt like Hirokuni was worried about him. Hirokuni had never shown much interest in others before, usually eating his bento alone without a thought.

In the end, Hirokuni fed Yamamura the entire bento. Afterward, Yamamura grabbed Hirokuni’s right hand and licked each dirty finger clean before pulling him back into bed and holding him close.

Losing the 2 million yen was a big deal, but it wasn’t what hurt him the most. The real blow was the betrayal. Yamamura had thought of Nishida as a friend, despite everything. In the past, there had even been a little bit of romantic feeling. Nishida had been a careless, lazy man with a bad attitude, but that had made him easy to be around. There was a certain comfort in how similar they were.

But Yamamura had believed that, even if Nishida could deceive others, he wouldn’t deceive him.

It wasn’t just the betrayal making him feel so empty. One by one, the things Yamamura had once believed in were disappearing. And the worst part was, after losing them, he realized how much they’d meant to him. It was always like that.

Yamamura tightened his hold on the warmth in his arms. He was glad that Hirokuni had been taken when he was young, raised by the Indigenous Peoples without learning words, numbers, time, or common sense before coming to Japan. It was because he didn’t know anything, because he couldn’t do anything, that he was still by Yamamura’s side.

“Hey, how about I buy you a rabbit?” Yamamura whispered into Hirokuni’s ear.

“Like the ones you saw at the zoo, whether you want a white one or a brown one, you can choose whichever you like. You like those fluffy things, don’t you?” He stroked Hirokuni’s chin as if he were petting a cat.

“If you want, I can even get you a dog or a cat, anything. We’ll move to a place where we can have pets, so just stay here with me, okay?”

“Go back… village,” Hirokuni said, shaking his head.

Arisawa had control of Hirokuni’s passport, and even if Hirokuni wanted to go back, he wouldn’t give it to him. Yamamura knew Hirokuni couldn’t leave, but the fact that Hirokuni still had the desire to “go back” was unbearable.

“I’m telling you, you can have a rabbit or whatever you want. What’s the problem? You have food, and there’s nothing to worry about here.”

Maybe it was Yamamura’s raised voice, but Hirokuni scratched his ear and sat up halfway. It was awkward to talk like this, so Yamamura sat up as well.

“I’ve been pretty nice to you, haven’t I?” Yamamura pressed.

Hirokuni glanced out the window. The small moon was visible through the half-open curtains.

“No village,” Hirokuni muttered.

“What do you mean, no village? You have everything here.”

“No want.”

Yamamura caught his breath. Hirokuni repeated, “No want.” There was nothing here that he wanted, Hirokuni was saying. Yamamura felt a sharp pang. So I’m just another thing you don’t want…? The thought formed, but Yamamura couldn’t bring himself to say it aloud.

…He was terrified of hearing Hirokuni confirm it.

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