Chapter 3 End Roll - part 6

Previous TOC Next

───Take 6

When Shunji Tokame woke up, he saw Yorozu Shirosaki gazing absentmindedly out the window, his yukata loose and disheveled. It was still early dawn. Through the small gap in the slightly opened shoji screen, flakes of snow drifted softly to the ground.

Rising slowly, Shunji walked to the window. At the sound of his footsteps, Yorozu turned and gestured beyond the glass, saying, “The snow is beautiful.”

It was indeed beautiful. The cold, white blanket covering everything appeared both breathtaking and merciless. From behind, Shunji wrapped his arms around Yorozu, who exhaled softly, the warmth of his body palpable against Shunji’s own.

From the end of December through mid-January, Yorozu had been scurrying around like a mouse—managing his younger brother’s wedding and various hotel events for the holiday season. Even in his sleep, he’d mumbled about “special menu items” or “New Year’s decorations.”

This New Year, they had spent time at Yorozu’s family home. Shunji knew Yorozu’s family was aware of their relationship, but he had been hesitant. For years, he had carried the guilt of pulling a younger Yorozu into a same-sex relationship, driven by his own selfish desires. Whatever the mother might say, I’ll accept it, he had resolved before going. But instead, he was welcomed naturally, as if he had always been part of the family, and no one probed into his relationship with Yorozu. That sense of belonging, while comforting, also stirred a faint nostalgia tinged with loneliness.

They stayed for two nights, and there was one moment when Shunji found himself alone with Yorozu’s mother late at night.

“Tokame-san, may I have a word with you?” she had said, inviting him to the living room. As soon as they sat facing each other, Shunji blurted out, “I’m sorry,” bowing deeply. What else could he say? He had led a young man astray, down an unconventional path, and still hadn’t let go of him.

“Tokame-san, please raise your head,” her voice was gentle.

“There’s no need to apologize to me. He’s no longer a child.”

Even so, Shunji couldn’t meet her gaze.

“…Because my husband passed away early, Yorozu had to grow up quickly, more so than most children his age. He was mature, dependable, even though I knew he was a clever but clumsy boy. I couldn’t spoil him like I did Satoru. I was frail and relied on him too much. Even now, I wish I could’ve given him a more carefree childhood.”

Shunji finally raised his head.

“I will die before my children. That’s only natural, given my age. But even after I’m gone, no matter what the world may say, I want my children to love, to be loved, and to be happy. I lost my husband early, but I was still very happy.”

The words Yorozu’s mother said—Please take care of Yorozu, Tokame-san—stayed with him, echoing in his mind.

After everything that had happened, they finally found time to visit Kanazawa in early February, a place they had long talked about seeing together. Though they had made plans, yesterday ended up being a lazy day spent entirely in bed, indulging in pure idleness.

Yorozu’s fingers were cold to the touch. When Shunji clasped them tightly and brought them to his lips, Yorozu let out a laugh—more amused than seductive. Scooping him up in his arms, Shunji earned a startled, “Hey, that’s a bit scary,” but he ignored the protest, carrying him to their private open-air bath.

The bath was spacious enough for the two of them, offering a view of the snow-covered garden. The water was a little hotter than usual but felt perfect in the chill of the morning. Too lazy to bother undressing Yorozu, Shunji tossed him into the bath still wearing his yukata.

“W-wait, Tokame-san!”

Dripping wet, Yorozu protested, but Shunji, still dressed in his yukata, had already leapt into the bath. The hot water surged over the edge, spilling out in waves.

“You’re too old to be acting like a child,” Yorozu chided, his face wet, water dripping from his bangs.

Shunji silenced him with a kiss. Pulling him close, he peeled the damp fabric of the yukata away from Yorozu’s skin, revealing the soft, pale nipples only he had ever seen. He took one into his mouth, tasting the slightly salty flavor from the bathwater.

Beneath the surface of the steaming water, Yorozu’s body responded, hardening under Shunji’s touch. When Shunji teased him, Yorozu let out a quiet, sweet sound, his expression almost tearful. We’re outside. If someone else is in another open-air bath nearby, they’ll hear everything. Shunji cupped Yorozu’s head, drawing him in for another kiss to muffle his voice. As their lips locked and Shunji continued to dote on him, he felt his own body rising with desire.

When Shunji reached deeper underwater, Yorozu’s tearful eyes pleaded with him. “No… don’t,” he whimpered. He still doesn’t realize that his resistance only makes me want him more.

“Just a little, okay?” Shunji coaxed softly. After a moment of hesitation, Yorozu relented, his resistance crumbling all too easily.

They joined together in a seated position, facing each other and holding each other close. As their bodies rocked in unison, Yorozu’s half-parted lips released faint gasps, his flushed eyes tinged with red. Shunji pressed his lips to Yorozu’s, kissing deeply as he thrust upward, savoring every moment.

"Tokame-san... Tokame-sa..."

The soft voice calling his name, clinging to him so earnestly, made Shunji tighten his embrace around the adorable man in his arms. In that moment, he poured all of his emotions into him.

After cleaning up, they slipped back under the covers, still bare. Between kisses and playful teasing like children, Shunji drifted off to sleep.

When he woke, Yorozu was beside him, reading a movie script he’d pulled from his bag the night before and left out. Their eyes met, and Yorozu smiled gently. “You should get up soon; breakfast will be here,” he said, lightly stroking Shunji’s head.

The room, with its separate sleeping and living areas, didn’t require them to fuss over putting away bedding, but Shunji knew they at least needed to get dressed—it wouldn’t do to lounge around undressed when breakfast arrived.

“Is this the script for the movie you’re filming in spring?”

Tokame nodded.

“There’s a lot of notes written in it.”

“…It’s not the final draft yet. I think it’s good, but something still doesn’t feel right.”

“It’s a sad story.”

Yorozu knew the script was based on Shunji. Yoshida, who had even interviewed Ninomiya, had faithfully reconstructed that time in Shunji’s life with unsettling accuracy. When Shunji first read through it, he’d felt a wave of nausea. But, like some kind of masochist, he couldn’t stop re-reading it. Each time, the fog of his confusion cleared a little more.

The more he saw his life as just another story—someone else’s story—it became easier to view it as a film. He began analyzing it for its cinematic elements, recalling something Wakibuchi had once said: “Your life becomes your craft—it’s what you have to offer.”

Even so, there was still something that didn’t quite fit. He read it over and over again. Isono had said, “Isn’t it fine as it is? It’s a great script,” but Shunji wasn’t convinced.

“Is all of this true?” Yorozu asked, closing the script.

“For the most part, yeah.”

“Do you think it’s better to make a movie that’s exactly like what you went through?”

Shunji tilted his head, considering the question.

“I don’t know much about these things,” Yorozu admitted, “but I don’t think I’d like to see a movie where Tokame-san suffers, even in fiction. I wouldn’t want Koharu-chan or Shunsuke-kun to die either. Bad things happened, but they all tried their best to live. Koharu-chan became a hairdresser, Shunsuke-kun managed to go back to school… I’d like to see a future like that, even if it’s only in the movie.”

I never thought about that. Shunji realized. He had been wondering what the point of making this movie was. Even though he had told Yoshida to “write whatever you want,” exposing his past like this wasn’t without discomfort. It brought him back to a fundamental question: Who was this movie for?

Was it for the audience, to bring them joy? Entertainment was essential for a film to succeed commercially. But Shunji had always made films for himself. They required the help of many others, but in the end, they were shaped by his ego, by his vision.

I don’t want to show the heavy burdens of my past. But hope? Hope was something he wanted to see. A happy ending was something even he would like to witness. What hadn’t been possible in reality could be brought to life on screen. A film was reality, but at the same time, it allowed for fiction. The ending could change, as much as the creator wanted.

Then… why not a world where Koharu and Shunsuke live?

Not for anyone else, but for himself.

Shunji couldn’t hold back. He grabbed Yorozu’s arm, pulling him roughly toward him. Yorozu looked startled. “W-what’s gotten into you?” he asked, bewildered.

He remembered Yorozu’s mother telling him, “Please take care of Yorozu.” But he wanted to say it himself: “Please take care of me.” And he wanted to express his gratitude—for allowing him to keep this man by his side, someone who supported him like family.

“Stay by my side, even when I’m old and gray.”

Finally, he was able to speak his true feelings. Yorozu trembled slightly in his arms.

“Is that… a proposal?”

Confronted so directly, Shunji felt embarrassed. “Something like that,” he mumbled, trying to brush it off.

After a short pause, Yorozu, shyly but with a warm smile, answered, “Yes.”

Previous TOC Next