MUNDANE HURT: Chapter 12
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.
Nishizaki, ever the selfish and prideful fool~
ReplyDeleteNishizaki 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...
ReplyDeleteThat’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.
DeleteBut 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. 😭
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.
ReplyDeleteThe 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 😭
Delete