MUNDANE HURT: Chapter 12

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It was a fifteen-minute walk from the apartment to the subway station, a twenty-five-minute ride on the train, and then another ten minutes on foot to reach the third floor of a new seven-story building. That’s where the sign for Seishu Law Office, Nagano’s workplace, was prominently displayed. Not being one to go out much during the day, Nishizaki found the station stairs subtly grueling. Watching a spry middle-aged woman with a lively step breeze up the steps made him feel a flash of irritation. Just perfect, he thought. Why do they have to look so full of energy?

He caught a glimpse of himself in the glass window of a café on the building’s first floor. Nagano’s wardrobe, outside of suits, was usually so painfully unstylish that it almost made him gag. But today, Nishizaki had done his best to pull something halfway decent together. No idea what’s trendy now, but at least I don’t look like I just climbed out of a dumpster. Compared to the people at the station, he figured he blended in well enough. Stick to the basics when it comes to outfits, and it’s manageable.

“Alright, good to go,” he muttered to himself, giving his reflection an approving nod before heading inside. The lobby was a cramped, six-tatami-sized space, with a nameplate listing companies and offices on the right wall, two elevators in front, and a narrow staircase off to the side. To the left of the stairs, a slightly recessed area bore a small sign labeled “Management Office,” and he glimpsed an elderly man with white hair in a blue uniform sipping tea and watching TV.

The elevator arrived, and he stepped in, feeling the slightest trace of nerves as he rode up to the third floor. He hadn’t expected it, but the plain office sign by the law firm’s door had a strange, imposing effect on him. Lawyers aren’t that big a deal, he reminded himself, but the thought didn’t settle his nerves. Gathering his composure, he pushed open the door.

In the front area, separated by a partition, a woman in her mid-twenties sat wearing a navy sweater. Her looks fell somewhere between plain and pretty—definitely average or a bit under without the makeup. She noticed him enter and, in a businesslike tone, asked, “May I help you?”

Nishizaki gave her his friendliest smile and greeted her with a casual, “Hello.” She blushed faintly—good sign. Though he was well into “old guy” territory by now, he figured an hour would be more than enough to win this one over.

“Oh,” she blinked, seeming to realize something. “Are you here for the part-time job interview?”

“Sorry, wrong guess,” he said playfully, earning a soft laugh from her. Alright, approval level up, he noted to himself.

“Is Nagano in?” he asked, turning the conversation toward his purpose for visiting.

She glanced briefly over her shoulder. “Nagano is out at the moment. Did you have an appointment?”

Great, he thought. Didn’t expect him to be out.

“Well, that’s a problem. Uh…would you mind if I just waited until he comes back?”

“You didn’t have an appointment?” she asked, her gaze growing a bit suspicious.

“I’m a friend of Nagano’s,” he said smoothly, holding up a smartphone. “He left his phone behind, so I figured I’d drop it off since I had some free time.” The woman seemed to recognize the phone model and nodded.

“If you’d like, I could take it and give it to him when he returns,” she offered.

“Well, here’s the thing—I’m kind of an idiot,” he admitted, shrugging exaggeratedly. “When I left the house, I forgot my wallet. Realized it at the station, but going back home was too much of a hassle, so I used his mobile wallet to get on the train. Figured if I’m doing him a favor, he can cover my fare, right? But then I realized that if I give this back, I’m stranded without a way home.” He sighed dramatically. Couldn’t get more ridiculous, could it?

The woman, processing this story, gave a slight nod. “One moment, please.” She turned to her computer, and while she was occupied, he took a chance to survey the office past the partition. The desks were separated into individual sections, reminiscent of a library study area but styled like a Western office. Everyone looked busy, suited up, and sharp. He couldn’t tell which desk belonged to Nagano.

After a moment, she looked back at him and said, “Nagano should return in about thirty minutes.”

“If you’d like to wait, I can show you to the lounge,” she offered.

“Thanks. By the way, which one’s Nagano’s desk?” Nishizaki asked casually, fishing for information.

Without a hint of suspicion, the woman pointed to the far right corner, closest to the entrance. From where Nishizaki was standing, he could see it clearly—neat and meticulously organized. Typical. Somewhere in that personal space, the video footage he needed was tucked away. If everyone here could conveniently disappear for the next thirty minutes, his job would be over and done with. He allowed himself the wild thought, Wouldn’t mind a sudden earthquake right about now.

“He’s still a stickler for tidiness, huh?”

“Have you been friends since school?” she asked.

“Yeah, we went to high school together.”

The woman looked up at him, smiling. “Oh, I thought you were closer to my age. You look so young.” It was probably just flattery, but it felt good to hear it anyway.

“Nagano-san is pretty quiet, but you’re so cheerful.”

“Yeah, he’s not exactly sociable. Not much sense of style, either,” Nishizaki joked. He figured a comment like that was within the bounds of “friendly ribbing.” She chuckled, as if recalling something that confirmed his statement. Seems like he’s done plenty to warrant it.

“Nagano-san seems to have a lot of stylish acquaintances. His girlfriend is gorgeous, too.”

A chill ran through him, though he kept his smile up to match hers. How’s she expecting me to react here?  

“Oh yeah? He hasn’t introduced us yet.”

“I’ve only seen a picture once. She had long hair and such a graceful air about her.”

That woman? Nishizaki remembered. She had long since broken up with Nagano and married someone else. He’d heard it from Sukajan Jacket. Pieces of Nagano’s past, once flat and unremarkable, began to take shape. Did Nagano cling to her the same way he does with me? Ugh, it’s disgusting to think about.

“Um, I don’t mind lending you the train fare, if that would help?” she offered, looking at him with that same eager look he remembered from some of his regulars back in his host days. He was sure now—she liked him. For someone with such an average face, she’s bold enough, he thought.

“Nah, that’s alright. Wouldn’t want to trouble you.” He declined her offer with a dismissive wave. A brief idea flickered through his mind, though: if he got close to her, he might have a way to slip into the office unnoticed. But using people increased the risk of leaving loose ends. He wondered if there was a more straightforward way to get access. “By the way, is this office hiring right now?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Our student assistant who’s been here a while is on medical leave, so…”

“Nishizaki?”

The familiar voice made him turn around. Nagano, wearing a black coat, was standing there looking as if he’d just found a surprise in a box.

“Nagano, your friend came by to drop off your phone!” the woman explained, but Nagano barely seemed to register her words as he directed his question at Nishizaki.

“What brings you to the office?”

“You forgot this,” Nishizaki said, holding out the phone.

“Oh…thanks,” Nagano said, taking it. “I thought I left it in my coat, but when I couldn’t find it, I assumed I must’ve dropped it somewhere.”

Nishizaki had actually slipped it out of Nagano’s coat pocket that morning and stashed it under the bed. Delivering it here had been the perfect excuse to check out the office. A little act of service could go a long way.

“What a thoughtful friend you have,” the woman said, but Nagano only gave a distracted “Ah, right” in response. Then, he turned to her and said, “I’ll step out for a bit,” before looking at Nishizaki. “Let’s go grab a coffee downstairs.”

“I’m good. I was just about to head out anyway,” Nishizaki said.

“You sure you don’t need something?” Nagano asked.

“Wouldn’t want to interrupt your work.”

“It’s fine; I wrapped up a bit earlier than I’d expected.” With no good excuse to back out, Nishizaki ended up joining him in the elevator. Guess it won’t all go smoothly.

“I thought the person talking to Mizuguchi looked like you,” Nagano said as they rode down. “Seeing it was you was a surprise. Thanks for bringing this,” he added, patting the phone. “How’d you know where to find the office?”

“I had one of your business cards, so I just looked it up. Oh, and I forgot my wallet, so I used your phone for the train fare.”

“Doesn’t bother me at all,” Nagano replied.

They entered the chain café on the ground floor, and while Nagano ordered tea, Nishizaki got a café latte.

“That receptionist’s name is Mizuguchi?”

“Yeah,” Nagano replied.

“She was talking about your ex, you know,” Nishizaki continued with a smirk.

Nagano choked on his tea, almost like a scene from a comedy sketch. “A beautiful woman with long hair,” Nishizaki added. “Haven’t you told them you broke up?”

“…That’s not exactly something I go around telling people,” Nagano replied.

“Did you dump her, or did she dump you?” Nishizaki’s tone was purely inquisitive. Though he expected Nagano to brush off the personal question, Nagano instead answered simply, “She dumped me.”

“Oh? Why?”

“She found someone she liked more than me,” Nagano replied, undisturbed.

“Wow. Man, that’s pathetic,” Nishizaki shot back, his words sharper than intended. Oddly enough, Nagano’s expression didn’t change at all.

“It’s not pathetic,” he replied evenly. “Feelings change; there’s nothing you can do about that. Besides, I don’t regret dating her.”

After a pause, Nagano added, “Honestly… being dumped by you back then was worse.”

Is that supposed to be a comeback? Nishizaki thought, feeling a bit stung. “Not like I could help it,” he mumbled, looking away. “I was just a kid then.”

“And now? I can’t say you’ve changed much,” Nagano said with a half-smile.

“I have too changed. The mature, adult Nishizaki stands before you,” he said, grinning.

Nagano’s smile grew, his eyes crinkling. Does he laugh more often now than back in high school? Nishizaki wondered. Then he remembered something Mizuguchi had said earlier. “Oh yeah, Mizuguchi mentioned your office is hiring.”

“Seems that way.”

“Are there any requirements?”

The softness drained from Nagano’s expression. He looked directly at Nishizaki.

"Is this your way of saying you want to work there?"

"Yeah, something like that."

“The work is mainly odd jobs, but the position’s intended for law students, to give them practical experience.”

So it was never an option, Nishizaki thought, feeling his brief hope snuffed out.

"Ah. Got it."

The air between them grew awkward. Nagano seemed uncomfortable, and Nishizaki wasn’t interested in dragging it out.

"Anyway, I should get going. You should get back to work too."

Just as he moved, Nagano grabbed his wrist.

“What?”

“Are you sure there’s nothing you’re struggling with?”

“Not really. I’m crashing at your place, so I’ve got a roof and food. All that’s left is finding a job.”

“But isn’t some random part-time job just a—”

“Obviously it’s temporary!” He shook Nagano’s hand off, annoyed. As he turned to leave, he suddenly remembered he didn’t have any money. Great.

“Oh, right. Forgot my wallet. Lend me train fare?” He demanded it with the air of someone giving orders.

Nagano nodded, taking out his black, folded wallet. As he pulled out a 10,000 yen bill, Nishizaki scoffed, then grabbed the wallet and took a single 500 yen coin from the change pocket before tossing the wallet back onto the table.

“Who needs that much just to take the train, idiot,” he said, brushing past Nagano to leave.

But then, Who’s the real idiot here? he thought to himself. After mooching dinner, demanding he buy something better, and scarfing it all down, he had the audacity to get angry about being handed a 10,000 yen bill. What a joke. It’s too late for regrets now.

What grated even more was how Nagano so clearly saw him as "a guy without money."

After buying his train ticket, he received 260 yen in change. At his station, he walked into a nearby park, bought a hot citrus drink from a vending machine, and sat down on a bench. The canned juice, courtesy of the ever-charitable Nagano, tasted disgustingly sweet.

…Suddenly, his phone rang from his coat pocket, jolting him back to reality. Only one person would be calling him.

“Yo, yo~. You were pretty far out and about today, weren’t ya?” said the familiar Round Face voice on the line.

Nishizaki felt his heart skip and looked around, alarmed. There was no one in sight, though. Is he…watching me somehow? Panic flickered. Or…is he tracking me on GPS? Could he know my every move?

“You’re keeping up with your job, right?” the Round Face voice asked, not sounding angry.

“Ah, yeah. I, uh… went by his office today. I found out his desk is right up front, on the right. But with people around, I couldn’t exactly search for the video footage.”

The voice on the other end simply said, “Go on.”

“They’re hiring for part-time, so I thought I’d give it a shot, but there are conditions I can’t meet, so it’s a no-go.”

Trying to get Nagano to reveal where he kept the video footage had been one frustrating dead end after another. Any time he asked about a case Nagano was handling, he’d only get, “Can’t talk about it—confidentiality.” Once, he’d thought Nagano might let something slip if he asked right after they had sex, so he’d cozied up to him, saying, “C’mon, just a little?” But Nagano only kissed him, murmuring, “Keeping quiet is part of the job.”

So, figuring he’d lower Nagano’s guard with alcohol, he’d bought a bottle of sake and tried to get him to drink himself silly. But Nagano drank like a fish, barely changed color, while Nishizaki, with his own liver on the verge of failing, passed out first. When he came to, he was naked in bed with Nagano, his body sore from the obvious “aftermath.” He’d snapped at Nagano, telling him not to do things while he was out cold, but Nagano had just shrugged, saying, “I tried to stop, but you came onto me.” As they talked, hazy images of himself moving on top flashed back to him in fragments, and Nagano commented that he’d looked “alluring,” leaving Nishizaki feeling like a complete idiot. And so…today, he’d gone straight to Nagano’s office instead.

“Look, I’ll be honest. I think this is as far as I can go on my own,” he said. “I’m an amateur, after all.”

Breaking and entering, extortion—those were jobs for a pro, he thought, hoping that if he shared the desk’s location, Round Face would take over from there. He waited, staring at the phone, feeling his grip tighten as silence stretched between them.

“Break into the office and find it yourself,” Round Face finally said.

Nishizaki’s heart sank.

“You want me to break in? There’s a guard on duty there, you know. And I don’t know how tight the cameras and security are. Besides, if I screw this up and get arrested…”

That’d be all anyone at the high school reunion would talk about: “Did you hear about Nishizaki? Finally got himself a criminal record…”

“We’ve already got the cops watching us, genius. That’s why I’m using you—the civilian. Four days. Bring me the video footage within four days.”

This is insane, he thought. Breaking in was crazy—it was impossible. There was no way.

“You used to be pretty close with that dealer, right?”

“I just… bought a few things from him. That’s all.”

“Do you know where he is now?”

“I really don’t know.”

“He’s in the mountains, out in Chichibu.”

A startled “Huh?” escaped him.

“This time of year, the soil must be nice and cold. How ‘bout I put you down there too, keep him company? He’d appreciate the conversation.”

Nishizaki felt his teeth chatter, his body trembling uncontrollably as Round Face’s loud laughter echoed in his ears.

“Kidding. Do your job well, and I’ll let you go free.”

Nishizaki could no longer tell where the jokes ended and the threats began. Had they actually buried Tsubame? Or was Round Face really planning to bury him there too?

“Four days,” Round Face said. “Do or die. Oh, and one last thing about that dealer. Before he died, he was sobbing like a baby, begging to be killed as he watched a dog gnaw his arm off.”

The call ended abruptly. Nishizaki set his phone on the bench and lowered his head, his whole body shaking so badly that even the unfinished drink in the bottle next to him was rattling from the tremors.

:-::-:

“Nishizaki?”

A voice drifted from above his head.

“What are you doing outside? Did you forget your key or something? You must be freezing out here.”

A plastic bag dangled in front of his nose, releasing a tangy, sweet aroma from inside. Nagano stood right there, close enough to touch, yet his face seemed unrecognizable, distorted, like it existed in some different world.

“Hey, I got the door open. Let’s go inside.”

Nagano's words were garbled, hard to piece together in his foggy mind.

“Are you listening?”

Nagano’s hand landed on his shoulder, a slight, casual touch that frightened him so badly he practically yelped, “Ahhh!” Nagano backed off, his mouth moving as he muttered, “Didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

A warmth slid down Nishizaki’s cheeks.

“Why are you crying?”

His hand instinctively brushed his own face, and he only then realized that he was crying. The tears felt nonsensical, pouring down like he’d broken. What’s wrong with me?

He couldn’t remember anything since the park, just that somehow, he’d made it back to the front of the building. His mind felt fried, like it couldn’t process anything. Then, out of nowhere, his thoughts began to circle around Tsubame, Tsubame, Tsubame, on a relentless loop. He remembered the voice, “Please, just kill me,” sobbing, desperately pleading. Was it his own voice? No, he hadn’t been there, hadn’t been devoured by a dog. Get out of my head.

Nagano’s hand softly stroked his hair, sending a shiver through him. The cautious hand settled around his back, guiding him, holding him up as he ushered him into the apartment.

“Don’t cry so much.”

The warmth of Nagano’s touch anchored him, reminding him he was alive. Not alone. Nagano’s fingers brushed the corners of his eyes, sore from the salt of his tears, before pressing a gentle kiss there.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice quiet and filled with concern.

“If talking would help, I’ll listen as much as you need. Whatever you’re going through, you can lean on me. I’ll do whatever I can for you.”

Do whatever you can, Nishizaki thought bitterly. The only reason he was in this mess, playing the pawn, was because Nagano was a lawyer who took on a yakuza case. He didn’t understand—couldn’t understand—the terror of facing death, of the reaper’s scythe looming so near.

“This is all your fault!”

Nagano looked at him, confused. “Is this… about the train fare?”

His hand brushed along Nishizaki’s cheek again. “I didn’t mean anything by offering you that 10,000 yen bill, nor did I mean to make you angry. I just… maybe I was worried. You showed up with only the clothes on your back and your phone. I kept wondering if you were storing your things somewhere, or if maybe you were under some other kind of pressure.”

Every last bit of his things had been tossed by the yakuza. He had nothing left.

“That’s not it!” he yelled, trying to shake Nagano’s sympathy.

Nagano fell silent, then quietly asked, “Is it about the woman I dated before?” A question so off-target and infuriating that it made Nishizaki’s chest churn.

“It’s over. I don’t have any lingering feelings for her. Besides, she’s married now.”

The sheer naivety made Nishizaki sick. Who cares about that crap? She found someone new, weighed her options—‘Who’s better?’—and decided you weren’t it. She thought you weren’t worth keeping. How pathetic. And then you sit here acting like you’ve moved on, no regrets? What an idiot. It’s hilarious.

A spineless fool, abandoned by a woman, too cowardly to go to a brothel, and so desperate that when an old crush makes a move, you’re quick to jump on his ass. Loser.

A shameless idiot who’ll fuck anything, even thinking a kiss is like some grand invitation—one who reeks of desperation. How can you even be turned on in this mess of a situation? It’s incomprehensible. But fine. Whatever. None of it matters. Nothing does anymore.

Somewhere deep down, the thought of dying in the middle of having sex seemed like a relief. Nishizaki pushed it further and further, egging Nagano on. More. Harder. It would be fine if he thrusted deep into my ass and wrecked me. He wanted to feel his body shatter, but in the end, all that tore was the condom. Nagano had muttered an awkward, “Sorry,” his apology hollow, even as he eyed the mess between Nishizaki’s legs with a gaze so hungry it seemed he’d dive in the next second.

Nishizaki came while Nagano was still inside, his consciousness flickering out briefly. When he woke, Nagano was no longer inside him. He lay beside him, peacefully asleep, breathing softly.

The fear that had coated Nishizaki’s mind like a suffocating film cracked under the raw, animalistic sex. Just like a sport, he thought bitterly. It cleared his head, just a little.

In the end, this is what it comes down to, isn’t it? You just have to do it. Whether you can or can’t, whether you succeed or fail—you’ve just got to keep going.

Nishizaki slipped out of bed, naked, and lit a stale cigarette in the kitchen. Normally, after sex, he couldn’t even think about getting up for a while. He’d gotten used to it, though. But tonight had been intense—his back ached, and his knees wobbled as if they might give out at any moment.

Leaning against the sink, he found his thoughts drifting to Nagano’s office. Wouldn’t it be less suspicious to just walk in boldly, instead of sneaking around in the dead of night? As the thought lingered, a warm liquid trailed down between his legs. He wiped it away with a finger, grimacing. Annoyed, he washed Nagano’s lingering presence off himself at the faucet, letting the water drown it all out. The noise must have been too loud because Nagano stirred, rustling in the bed behind him.

Blowing a thin stream of smoke toward the ventilation fan, Nishizaki ignored the approaching footsteps. But it didn’t matter—Nagano clung to him from behind, like sticky tape. What now? He half-expected Nagano to initiate something again, but instead, he just held him, quiet and not demanding.

“Hey, can I borrow your suit tomorrow?” Nishizaki asked, dropping some ash into the sink.

“I got a call from that place I sent my resume to. They want me to come in for an interview in the evening.”

“...You don’t need to ask,” Nagano replied, his voice soft. “Use whatever of mine you want.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Nishizaki raised the cigarette for another drag, but before he could, Nagano snatched it out of his hand.

“Hey, don’t just take my stuff!”

Nagano didn’t even take a puff. He stubbed it out in the sink, his expression calm.

“It’s bad for you.”

“You smoke too,” Nishizaki shot back, annoyance flaring.

Nagano silenced him with a kiss—slow, deep, and unmistakably sensual. When he pulled back, he gently stroked Nishizaki’s head and said, “I hope the interview goes well.”



:-::-:

10:30 PM. Nishizaki strolled past the multi-tenant building slowly. By 9 PM, the lights in the Seishu Law Office on the third floor had gone dark, and the café on the first floor had closed at 10, with its lights just shutting off moments ago.

One window up on the seventh floor still had its lights on, but he decided to let it go. Waiting for every light in the building to go out would be endless.

Taking a deep breath, Nishizaki stepped into the building’s entryway. The lights were dimmed halfway, leaving a soft, shadowy ambiance, while a tiny window in the security office beside the staircase shone brightly, almost intrusively. He braced himself, steeling his nerves for the real test.

“Excuse me,” he called, tapping on the glass window.

Expecting the old, white-haired security guard he’d seen the day before, Nishizaki was surprised to see a greasy man around fifty peer out instead. He’d hoped for the slow old man, but there was no changing it now.

“I had an interview earlier today with the law office on the third floor. When I got home, I realized I must’ve left my phone behind. I was hoping to grab it.”

The man grimaced. “Sorry, but you’ll have to come back tomorrow. Everyone from the company’s gone home for the day. Why don’t you come back in the morning and ask them directly?”

That was the expected response.

“Isn’t there anything you could do?” Nishizaki clasped his hands together in a pleading gesture. “My grandma’s been really unwell, and my mom said she’d call my cell if anything happened. So I really need to keep it with me tonight.”

The man’s expression wavered—family health crises were a convincing touch.

“I’m pretty sure I left it in the waiting area. That’s where they had me sit when I got there. Please, I’d be so grateful.”

He lowered his head once more. Glancing up, he saw the man scratching the back of his head, clearly irritated. “You’re sure it’s in the office?” he asked, double-checking.

“Yes, definitely.”

The man sighed. “Fine, fine.” He went back inside, returning with a blue security cap and a set of keys. In his mind, Nishizaki silently cheered, Stage One: Clear.

They got into the elevator together. After a moment, the guard glanced up at him. “How old are you?” he asked.

“Twenty-four,” Nishizaki replied, smiling politely. He’d managed to pass as that age when talking with the receptionist, so a little white lie couldn’t hurt. His disguise consisted of longer bangs, a cheap pair of thick-framed glasses, and an ill-fitting suit—a hand-me-down from Nagano that was painfully unstylish. The look worked for someone supposedly applying to a part-time job.

Earlier that morning, Nagano had lent him his IC card, saying, “I don’t use it anymore since I have my phone.” It had about five thousand yen left on it, which saved Nishizaki from needing to ask for train fare—and even let him buy the disguise glasses.

At the office door, the guard turned to him. “Can you wait here? I’ll go fetch it.”

Nishizaki had assumed he’d be let in alongside him, but this man was annoyingly cautious. Still, since he’d gone from “come back tomorrow” to “I’ll go look for it,” he couldn’t push too hard.

“Alright.”

“So where exactly is it in the office?”

“The waiting area. I had set my bag on the floor, so it’s probably slipped under the chair.”

The guard unlocked the door, then stepped inside. He closed it behind him, but Nishizaki didn’t hear the click of it locking. He waited thirty seconds, then carefully opened the door, his hand trembling. His heartbeat pounded so loudly it felt as if it might burst from his chest.

Inside, the office was bright, desks arranged neatly like nests in a beehive. To his left, there was a partitioned area from where faint sounds could be heard. That must be the waiting room.

On the opposite side, Nishizaki darted over to Nagano's booth. The desk was meticulously organized—no papers, no USB drives, nothing. He tried the top right drawer, but it didn’t budge; locked. Clicking his tongue, he tried the next drawer down—only stationery. Finally, he opened the large bottom drawer, finding an A4-sized file and a thick case, about the size of a paperback. He took out the case and unzipped it, his hands trembling. Inside was a small, palm-sized video camera. This… could this be… jackpot?

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A shout made his whole body jolt. He turned to see the guard glaring at him, looking like a hunting dog ready to pounce.

“I told you not to go into the office,” the guard said, advancing on him. Nishizaki forced a smile, though his face twitched with tension.

“Sorry! I was just curious about what a real lawyer’s desk looks like,” he lied with a grin.

“Enough. Put that down and get over here! I’m calling the cops!” The guard was fully on alert now—there was no deceiving him anymore. If that was the case, then it was time to go all out. Clutching the video camera, Nishizaki lunged at him, hoping to knock him down and make his escape. But the guard grabbed him, twisting his arm painfully behind his back. Nishizaki cried out in pain as he was shoved down, and the video camera slipped from his hand, rolling across the carpet like a stray ball.

While the guard was distracted by the camera, Nishizaki yanked his arm free, kicked the guard’s blue-uniformed back, and scrambled to his feet, bolting out of the room.

“Hey, get back here!”

He raced down the stairs and out into the street, dashing through the narrow alleyways of the office district like a rat on the run. Even after he was sure no one was chasing him, he ran faster each time someone’s footsteps sounded behind him. He didn’t stop until he was two train stations away, finally making it down into the subway and onto a train.

In the dim reflection of the window, he caught a glimpse of himself: hair disheveled, tie askew, and the ill-fitting glasses sliding down his nose. Too exhausted to straighten up, he just hung onto the handrail, head drooping. On the way home, he tossed the disguise glasses into a convenience store trash can and used Nagano’s IC card to buy a bottle of sake. He made his way to a park, huddling under the slide and gulping down the sake. He wanted to drink enough to forget, but nausea crept in almost immediately. Pushing through it, he forced down more until he couldn’t keep it down, vomiting up the last of the drink. He hurled the half-empty bottle into the dark brush.

Damn it, damn it, damn it… He’d failed. Everything had been going so well, just a little further and he’d have made it. That video was his only chance, and now it was gone. Curse that old man. He wished him dead—over and over, he muttered, “Die. Just die. It’s your fault my life’s over.”

Being beaten, kicked, thrown into a shallow grave somewhere in the woods by those bastards—they would kill him, unless he did it himself first. That’d be better, maybe. Easier than whatever they had in store. Maybe he should just do it. But as he thought about it, his mother and his brother’s faces came to mind.

“Hey, what’s it like where you are?” he murmured, though he knew they wouldn’t answer. Tears began to well up, and soon he was sniffling, quietly sobbing. He passed by Nagano’s apartment and kept walking along the river. He came to a big bridge, staring down at the dark water below. Jumping in would be quick, but he feared the pain, the cold. It’d be over fast, he told himself, but even as he tried to egg himself on, he couldn’t take that final leap. So instead, he climbed down from the bridge to the riverbank. As he approached the water, he heard soft splashes and wondered how cold it would feel. Bending down to reach it, he misjudged the step and slipped.

Before he knew it, he was submerged. The icy water filled his mouth, stealing his breath as he sank. He thrashed wildly, feeling only the bitter cold until his feet touched the bottom. He managed to stand up; the water only came up to his waist. He dragged himself back to shore, his entire body feeling twice as heavy, shaking with cold and exhaustion. He was so tired. He was done with it all.

Soaking wet, he started walking again, instinctively heading toward Nagano’s apartment. The lights were on. Climbing the stairs felt like an impossible task, but he finally reached the door, barely managing to stay upright. His hand shook as he searched his pocket for the spare key. His fingers fumbled helplessly until, suddenly, the door slowly opened from the inside.

“Welcome home. You’re really late…”

Nagano froze as he saw Nishizaki trembling violently.

“You’re soaked to the skin. What happened?”

As soon as Nagano grabbed his arm, Nishizaki collapsed to the floor, his strength giving out entirely. Nagano hoisted him up and carried him straight to the bathroom.

Thrown into the cramped unit bath, Nishizaki was doused with lukewarm water. The trembling subsided around the time the water pooled up to his ankles. Nagano sat on the edge of the bath, gently rubbing Nishizaki’s slumped shoulders.

“I heard footsteps on the stairs and thought it might be you. I’m glad I went to check the entrance.”

Nishizaki hugged his knees and curled up into himself.

“Where’d you get this wet? It wasn’t even raining, was it?”

“…I fell.”

“You don’t get this drenched just from falling. And was your interview supposed to last this late?”

“…Of course not.”

Nagano was silent for a moment. Then he ruffled Nishizaki’s hair and said encouragingly, “We’ll find a job that’s right for you, don’t worry.”

He thinks I’m just throwing a tantrum because I got rejected. It doesn’t even matter anymore.

Nagano kept him soaking in the bath long enough to make Nishizaki’s skin wrinkle, before pulling him out. He dried Nishizaki off and even blow-dried his hair without asking.

Nishizaki hadn’t asked for consolation, but Nagano kept repeating things like, “There’s no rush,” and “Take your time looking,” as if trying to reassure him. When he noticed Nishizaki wasn’t really listening, Nagano pulled him onto the bed and hugged him, gently stroking his head and back.

It was unbearably annoying. Smothering. And yet, Nagano was so warm that the memories of nearly drowning—both figuratively and literally—faded as if they were running away. I was ready to die, and now I’m lying here, cozy and safe. What even is this? I’m about to be killed soon anyway, so what’s the point?

Failed to steal the video footage of the safe. The only option left is to burn down their office or something drastic like that. How would I even set a fire? Splash oil or gasoline around? Then what? Jump into the flames to grab the video? Who’s doing that? Me? I’d probably just die in the fire.

The thought made Nishizaki shiver violently. Even huddled close to Nagano, the cold seeped in. As he drifted off to sleep, overwhelmed by the chill, he woke later to find his body burning with fever.

Early the next morning, Nagano had already gone to the convenience store to buy an ice pillow. Nishizaki’s fever had climbed past 38°C (100.4°F), and standing up made him feel like he was floating on clouds, light-headed and unsteady.

Planning to burn down their office? Forget worrying about burns—my body’s already shutting down. The thought was absurd. Absolutely the best and worst situation all at once.

Nagano, still in his sweatpants, sat by the bedside and absently stroked Nishizaki’s head again, as though it were a reflex. But it was already past 7:30 a.m.

“Aren’t you going to change into a suit?” Nishizaki asked.

“I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“You’ve got work, don’t you?”

“I can take a day off if I need to. You decide—if you want me to stay, I’ll stay.”

How sweet, Nishizaki thought bitterly. The fake kindness grated on his nerves. Stop trying to act like you care. No one’s asking you for anything, and I’m certainly not planning to rely on you.

The worried expression on Nagano’s face felt so clumsy, so contrived, it made Nishizaki nauseous.

“You’re just in the way,” he snapped.

Nagano’s face fell, and Nishizaki felt a surge of satisfaction at the hurt he’d caused. Nagano looked down with a pained smile and sighed. “If that’s the case, I’ll head to work.”

“Do you need anything?” Nagano asked.

“…Nothing.”

Despite Nishizaki’s dismissal, Nagano left with a parting promise: “I’ll pick up something good to eat.” He finally left for work.

I thought I’d feel relieved once he was gone. But as the sound of the door shutting faded and the apartment returned to silence, a suffocating loneliness crept in. I don’t want to be alone.

Nishizaki went to the window and pulled the curtain aside, searching the sidewalk below. No sign of Nagano. He’s already gone. The thought struck harder than it should have. Call him back. Maybe he hasn’t gone too far yet.

He looked for his phone, spotting it connected to the charger by the bedside. That brought him back to his senses.

When I fell into the river, the phone was still in my jacket pocket. Nagano must’ve taken it out and set it up to charge. I thought it’d be ruined from the water, but it works fine.

When he tapped the screen, it lit up as usual. Relief and dread warred within him. At least I’m still connected to them. If they couldn’t reach me, they’d probably show up while Nagano’s out.

I’m so tired. Tired of thinking. Tired of everything. Could I run away now?

He glanced at his IC card balance—about 3,000 yen left. Where could that get me? If I skip the Shinkansen, maybe as far as Shizuoka? Not that it matters. With this fever, I probably wouldn’t even make it to the station. I’d just die on the way.

While daydreaming about escape, Nishizaki drifted into a restless sleep, only to jolt awake drenched in sweat from a bad dream. The lingering unease and the dampness clinging to his body were awful, but at least his fever seemed to have eased a little, leaving him less sluggish. He drank some sports drink Nagano had bought in advance, ate a jelly-like nutritional supplement, and went back to sleep.

He spent the day dozing off and waking intermittently. Nagano didn’t return until after 10 p.m. Despite promising to bring something delicious, he walked in with a cheap bento from a discount shop he frequented on his way home. Perhaps feeling awkward, Nagano explained, “Work ran late today,” and then gently touched Nishizaki’s forehead.

“Your fever’s better than it was this morning. You look a lot better.”

Relieved, Nagano sighed softly and set the bento on the table. Along with the bento, he’d picked up porridge, jelly, and pudding from the convenience store. “Eat whatever you feel like,” he said. Nishizaki reached for the bento without hesitation.

“Last night, someone broke into the office. The police got involved, and it caused quite a stir. The boss told us all to check if anything was missing. It was a chaotic day from morning onward. According to the security guard, the intruder was probably after something valuable.”

“Uh-huh,” Nishizaki replied absently as he chewed a piece of fish cake from the bento. …It had no flavor.

“There wasn’t any damage this time, but it’s unsettling. The boss said they’ll be installing security cameras.”

Halfway through the meal, Nishizaki shut the bento box. “Not hungry?” Nagano asked, but Nishizaki ignored him. Who talks about break-ins while someone’s eating? It’s your fault I lost my appetite, he grumbled internally.

He sprawled out on the bed, feeling the fatigue intensify again. The fever was probably creeping back up. Failing to steal the video footage and now the police showing up? What a nightmare. He’d touched Nagano’s desk and the video equipment—had his fingerprints been lifted? Even if they had, he had no criminal record, so they couldn’t trace it back to him. Still, if he ever got caught in the future, it would all come crashing down.

When Nagano emerged from the bath, he opened his laptop, pulled some files from his briefcase, and began typing away. It was the first time Nishizaki had seen him work from home. The rhythmic clacking of the keyboard abruptly stopped as Nagano turned to him.

“Is the noise bothering you?”

“Not really.”

“I’ll be done in about thirty minutes.”

Feigning a trip to the bathroom, Nishizaki snuck a glance at Nagano’s laptop screen. When Nagano turned and caught him, Nishizaki covered it up by leaning on him from behind. He felt Nagano’s body stiffen slightly, a small tremor betraying his tension.

“Is that for the court case?” Nishizaki asked casually.

“Yeah. A wealthy man passed away, and now his kids and second wife are fighting over the inheritance.”

For someone so strict about confidentiality, Nagano spilled the details surprisingly easily. Nishizaki’s heartbeat quickened. Is this what those guys were talking about?

“I’m almost done,” Nagano said, sounding distracted. Nishizaki backed off, sensing he was in the way. He lay on the bed, observing Nagano intently.

After about twenty minutes, Nagano closed the document and powered down his laptop. He placed the USB drive he’d been using into a small plastic case, like a cardholder, which also contained an SD card.

“That kind of data… losing it would be a big deal, wouldn’t it?” Nishizaki probed.

“A big deal? It’d be a disaster. I’d probably lose my job. I usually don’t carry it around, though. It’s all backed up to the cloud. But for documents, I mainly use USB drives. For original photos and video footage, I use SD cards.”

That SD card… Could it have the video of the safe I’ve been so desperate to get my hands on? Nishizaki’s skin prickled with unease. Did he bring it home at the last minute?

Nagano stored the plastic case back in his briefcase. Nishizaki’s fingers itched. I need to get that SD card and check it now—see if it has footage of the safe.

Nagano walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. He placed his hand gently on Nishizaki’s forehead.

“Looks like you’ve got a bit of a fever again.”

His fingers slid down from Nishizaki’s forehead, lightly grazing his cheek.

“Is there something bothering you?” Nagano asked, his tone serious. His earnest gaze bore down on Nishizaki.

“If there’s anything—anything at all—that’s worrying you, talk to me. I want to help. But if you don’t tell me, I won’t know how to.”

The weight of Nagano’s gaze was too much, and Nishizaki turned his face away instinctively. Does he suspect I’m after the video? …No, it didn’t make sense. Nishizaki had been acting erratic these past couple of days—crying out of nowhere, coming home soaked to the bone. It must have baffled Nagano. Anyone would think, This guy’s mentally unstable.

“There’s nothing wrong,” he spat out.

Nagano’s eyes wavered, and for a second, they almost looked hurt. Even so, the guy wouldn’t stop with his insistent, “I want you to trust me.”

"It’s not like I don’t trust you," Nishizaki added.

The bed creaked as Nagano stood, but Nishizaki panicked and grabbed his arm.

“Stay with me.”

When Nishizaki tried to pull him back onto the bed, Nagano said, “I’ll sleep on the floor tonight.”

“You don’t need me getting in the way when you’re feeling sick.”

The very words Nishizaki had hurled at Nagano that morning were now thrown back at him. Nagano didn’t say it with malice—he probably meant it sincerely.

“I thought you were in the way, but when you weren’t here, I felt… lonely.”

Nagano’s face twisted into an awkward mix of surprise and something like a tearful smile, and the atmosphere led them into a kiss. Nagano rarely woke once asleep, but Nishizaki figured sex might knock him out completely. When Nagano protested, “You still have a fever,” Nishizaki begged, “Just once,” and persuaded him.

Though hesitant at first, Nagano got aroused almost immediately. His restraint was impressive, moving gently as though trying not to hurt Nishizaki. Damn, this guy has incredible self-control, Nishizaki thought with a strange sense of admiration.

At 3 a.m., Nishizaki slipped out of bed. In the dark, he retrieved the plastic case from Nagano’s briefcase and locked himself in the bathroom with the laptop. Inside the lightless, private space, he inserted the SD card into the laptop and powered it on. The card contained only one file. Turning off the sound, he began to play the video.

The sight of a gray safe filled the screen, and Nishizaki’s heart almost leapt out of his chest. In the grainy, noisy footage, large, rugged hands turned the dial. The lock clicked open, and the safe door swung wide to reveal bundles of cash stuffed inside. The man in the video pulled out a bundle and ran it through a counting machine.

There’s no mistake. This is what Round Face wanted.

He closed the video, shut down the laptop, and pulled out the SD card.

Moving quietly in the dark, Nishizaki opened the closet, feeling for clothes. Unable to see, he grabbed something sweater-like and threw it on. He slipped into what he guessed were jeans and layered on a coat. The SD card, IC card, and his phone went into the coat pocket.

As he finished preparing, he turned back. Nagano’s steady breathing rose and fell from the bed. If I take this SD card, will Nagano be in trouble? He’d said losing it would cost him his job. He might lose the case and be forced out of his office. But it wouldn’t be a big blow. Someone as diligent as Nagano, with a lawyer’s credentials, could start fresh anywhere. Unlike Nishizaki, who was being threatened with being turned into dog food—or worse. You and I are from completely different worlds.

Exiting the room, Nishizaki locked the apartment door behind him. The faint click of the lock reverberated in the silence, and he realized he wouldn’t be coming back.

Knowing this was the end, he couldn’t help but recall Nagano’s warmth: those overbearing kisses, overly gentle sex, the way he’d stroke Nishizaki’s face and hair. It had been suffocatingly tender, and lovey-dovey as hell… but Nagano had been kind.

I’ll be causing you trouble, and I’m sorry, but my life’s on the line. Even in this shitty existence, I don’t want to die in pain, or in humiliation.

Descending the apartment stairs, he walked briskly into the night, tapping his phone as he went. He pressed the one number saved in his contacts and made the call.

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Comments

  1. Nishizaki, ever the selfish and prideful fool~

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  2. Nishizaki is under so much stress and he's terrified, terrified of staying at the bottom of the caste system. Nagano being so warm. It reminds me of the abandoned classroom scene in the earlier chapters with the orange light, orange symbolizing warmth. Nagano begging Nishizaki to trust him...

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    Replies
    1. That’s such a beautiful connection! 🧡 The imagery of warmth tied to Nagano is so fitting—he’s like this steady light in Nishizaki’s chaotic world, always offering comfort even when Nishizaki doesn’t know how to accept it. The abandoned classroom scene and now this moment show how much Nagano wants to pull Nishizaki out of his fear and pain.
      But yeah, Nishizaki’s terror of staying at the bottom is so palpable—it’s like he’s clinging to what little he has left while Nagano is reaching out to him. Ugh, the tension and vulnerability are just heartbreaking. 😭

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  3. The art is so gorgeous! Also I’m so over Nishizaki 💀, Nagato is like oh yeah I’d probably lose my job if I lost this- and it doesn’t even register in Nishizaki’s mind. He’s just wondering if it’s the SD card he’s looking for. Like just die tbh don’t drag a perfectly good person down with you 😭 Nagato has already had a tough childhood… like at this point I’m hoping the yakuza don’t keep their word and kill him anyway lol, at least then he won’t come back to use Nagato again.

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    Replies
    1. The art really is stunning, isn’t it? 😍 But oh my gosh, Nishizaki’s selfishness is on another level 😤 Honestly, I wouldn’t blame you for hoping the yakuza follow through—it’d save Nagano a world of heartbreak 😭

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