FRAGILE - Chapter 2

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Even after stepping out of the taxi, the rain was still coming down hard, pounding against the asphalt. Okouchi dashed to the entrance of his apartment building, and with damp fingers, he checked his mailbox, finding just one letter. He flipped it over in the elevator—direct mail from a store he often shopped at. The elevator came to a soft stop, the light flashing on the seventh floor, and he stepped out.

The hallway leading to his apartment was dim, with one of the bulbs burnt out. Assuming he was alone, Okouchi stopped in surprise when he saw a figure near the stairs to the left of the elevator. Judging by the shape, it appeared to be a man, hunched over and sitting on the steps, his head down, as if he’d been drinking. Given the late hour, the sight was unsettling. The cold rain-soaked his feet, and he hurried down the hallway to his door.

Just as he held the direct mail in his mouth and began rummaging through his bag for his keys, he heard slow, approaching footsteps. The man who’d been sitting on the stairs was now walking toward him. In the dim lighting, Okouchi couldn’t see his face, but the thought of an unknown figure advancing toward him in the dead of night was unnerving. Hastily, he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

At that moment, he was shoved violently from behind. He stumbled over the threshold between the entryway and hallway and fell forward. His bag flew to the other side of the hall, and he landed hard, striking his chest against the wooden floor.

“Ow…”

He let out a small cry, struggling to process what had happened. When he lifted his head, he saw the shadow of a figure, half-illuminated, in the hallway. The door slammed shut with a loud bang, and the silhouette, once faintly visible by the hallway light, disappeared into darkness. He sensed someone there, but the room was so dark that turning around revealed nothing.

In the silence, he could hear only the intruder’s breathing, ominous and close. It was the man from the stairs, surely lying in wait for someone coming home late to rob. If he fought back, he might be killed. The fear of death chilled his heart in an instant. He’d never been confident in his physical strength, and in a scuffle, he would likely be the one hurt. Cold sweat formed on his hands. Trembling, he crouched in the entryway and, without even seeing the intruder’s face, began to plead.

“P-please… I’ll give you money, as much as you want. Just… don’t hurt me.”

A low, mocking laugh echoed in the small entryway. Suddenly, there was a pounding against the wall, loud and frantic, as if to provoke him. Paralyzed with fear, Okouchi held his head in his hands. Then, with a final, resounding bang, the lights snapped on, filling the room with sudden brightness. Silence fell. Slowly, cautiously, Okouchi lifted his head.

The first thing he saw was a pair of black sneakers. Jeans, a dark green T-shirt. And then… the man sniffled, looked at Okouchi with an almost friendly smile, and revealed himself as none other than Aoki Tatsuro, who had officially resigned from the company just yesterday.

“It’s been a while,” Aoki said.

Overwhelmed by the unplaceable intensity radiating from him, Okouchi could only mutter a faint, “Ah… yes.”

“Today—well, it’s past midnight now, so yesterday—I submitted my resignation to the company. I thought you’d already know, but since I didn’t get a chance to properly greet you despite the trouble I caused, I thought I’d stop by in person. I also have a few things I’d like to discuss. May I come in?”

His polite tone felt all the more disturbing given that he was trying to enter someone’s home at two in the morning.

“Ah… thank you for going to the trouble,” Okouchi replied, trying to keep his voice calm and steady, pretending to adjust his hair as he ran his fingers through it, hoping to hide his nervousness. Truthfully, he wanted to shout at him to leave immediately, but he was too afraid of provoking him. He had no idea what this man might do if he lost his temper. A flash of memory crossed Okouchi’s mind: Aoki, like a demon with scissors in hand, lunging at him.

“I’m sorry you came all this way, but it’s very late, and I have work tomorrow. Could we perhaps save the conversation for another time?”

Aoki lowered his gaze, looking disappointed. Okouchi made no mention of the absurdity of showing up at someone’s place at such an hour. Stay calm, stay calm… he repeated to himself, urging himself to keep things peaceful.

“I’ve been waiting for you since this evening, Assistant Manager. Could you spare me a few minutes to listen?”

Searching for an excuse to decline, Okouchi mumbled, “Ah, but…” Just then, Aoki suddenly slammed his fist against the wall. The loud noise echoed around them, making Okouchi flinch.

“I know this is an imposition, and I apologize. But could you please just hear me out?”

Though he framed it as a request, Okouchi realized it was really a command. Refusal wasn’t an option. Realizing this, he understood there was no way out. Even if he resisted and provoked Aoki’s anger, leading to violence, there was no one here to help him.

“Y-yes… since you came all this way, please, come in.”

Unable to express his fear or reluctance, he led Aoki inside, voice trembling. After a polite “Excuse me,” Aoki entered, making no attempt to remove his sneakers as he stepped into the hallway. Seeing Aoki trampling on his expensive carpet with dirty shoes, Okouchi sensed a flash of suppressed anger directed at him.

Aoki, sitting on the sofa with an ungracious air unbefitting a guest, scanned the living room with an unreserved gaze.

“You have a nice place here.”

“Thank you…”

It sounded like a compliment, so he replied politely.

“It must be nice to live in such a fine apartment. I imagine you have two or three guest rooms besides your bedroom and living room. But it’s a bit too spacious for one person, isn’t it? Do you plan on living here with someone eventually?”

“I hope so, but… it’s not easy finding the right person.”

On the surface, it sounded like a perfectly ordinary conversation. Anxious, unable to stay still, Okouchi found himself pacing around the room, circling the sofa where Aoki sat.

“Would you like something to drink…?”

Their eyes met. Aoki’s intense gaze, with a hint of a smirk, held Okouchi still, like a frog staring into the eyes of a snake.

“No need. Please, sit down.”

Following the command, Okouchi awkwardly settled into a single-seater sofa across from Aoki.

“If I recall correctly, Assistant Manager, you turned thirty-one this year. Yet, despite your age and title, you lack the necessary competence. I don’t intend to criticize someone for their ineptitude; after all, everyone has aspects they can’t improve. But in your case, it seems only natural that you remain incompetent. Instead of honing your skills, you’re much more dedicated to flattering your superiors.”

In a polite tone, Aoki openly condemned him. Leaning forward, he clasped his fingers together on his knees.

“I spoke to Ueda, who left the company. He told me that Okouchi is nothing more than a parasite skilled only in ingratiating himself with others. How do you feel about being seen that way?”

His words trailed off, leaving silence in their wake. Aoki was waiting for an answer. Lowering his head, Okouchi hesitated, uncertain how to respond. If he denied it, Aoki would likely get angry; if he agreed, he’d probably be mocked. But he decided that mockery was far more tolerable than anger.

“I suppose it’s true.”

Apparently satisfied, Aoki let out a chuckle.

“I endured six months under an incompetent man like you. You were my superior, after all, in name if nothing else. I wrote dozens of proposals, adjusted them based on unreasonable feedback, and revised them according to your instructions. Yet, you always rejected them simply because they were ‘my proposals,’ and chose Isono’s dull ideas just because he’s your favorite.”

With a sigh, Aoki ran a hand through his hair, brushing it back from his forehead.

"I was a fool, thinking that if I kept working hard, I’d eventually earn more recognition than Isono. You’d just skim my proposals and dismiss them as ‘useless,’ but you had no idea how much time I put into them. I’m not a natural talent, nor am I particularly intuitive. So, I’d put in the effort to research everything in advance—even the popular characters in card games among kids. That kind of stuff doesn’t really matter, though. I do it because I enjoy it. But when you passed my rejected ideas on to Isono, that was a real shock.”

As if recalling the pain, Aoki lightly rubbed his stomach.

“I never expected you’d do something so shameless. I was so furious that I ended up with an ulcer overnight.”

Okouchi remembered that incident with a pang of guilt. At the time, Isono was struggling with a campaign plan for a new line of women’s watches and was nearing a deadline. Seeing his distress, Okouchi had casually suggested an idea based on a campaign proposal Aoki had submitted—one he had rejected just the day before. Desperate, Isono took Okouchi’s words and wrote up his proposal almost exactly as he had heard it. The resulting campaign was met with widespread acclaim both inside and outside the company, and the watches sold exceptionally well.

The resemblance between the final campaign and Aoki’s rejected idea had been so striking that Okouchi half-expected complaints, but Aoki hadn’t confronted him directly. Emboldened by this lack of protest, Okouchi occasionally continued feeding Aoki’s ideas to Isono.

"When that sort of thing happens enough, even someone like me starts to understand that no matter how hard I work, you’ll never use my ideas. So, I decided to bypass you entirely and submit my proposal directly to the manager. My proposal was preliminarily approved and was set to be reviewed in a formal meeting. But at that crucial meeting, you lied and said I hadn’t submitted any documents, choosing not to present it. Later, you told me, ‘Your proposal wasn’t chosen after the discussion.’ When I found out the real reason from the manager, I went home and cried, wondering why I had to be treated with such contempt.”

When Okouchi first discovered that Aoki had gone behind his back to submit his proposal, he had felt a seething irritation, like being bitten by a dog he had raised himself. That small act of rebellion had spurred him to sabotage Aoki’s proposal, even though it was all but guaranteed to succeed. And when he crushed Aoki’s chances, he didn’t feel the slightest pang of guilt.

“That time, too, I was back at the hospital with stomach pain. But I endured it. I was confident in my abilities and determined to one day make you eat your words. But… there was one thing I just couldn’t tolerate.”

Aoki paused.

“Work aside, my private life was none of your business.”

Okouchi had learned about Aoki’s sexuality purely by chance. That same evening, after shutting down one of Aoki’s proposals, he was returning late from a business dinner. While cutting through a back alley in the downtown area, he had spotted two men embracing. It wasn’t unusual for drunkards in the nightlife district to get carried away and kiss someone of the same sex, but these two weren’t playfully drunk. The atmosphere was undeniably intimate and secretive.

Unable to comprehend the psychology of men attracted to other men, Okouchi frowned in disgust. He was about to walk past, silently condemning their lack of morals, when he took a second glance at one of the men’s suits—it looked familiar. Turning back, he realized, to his shock, that he recognized them both.’

One was his subordinate, Aoki, and the other was Kosuge, a colleague from the accounting department who had joined at the same time as Okouchi. At first, he thought it might be a joke, but the kiss and embrace were far too prolonged for him to convince himself otherwise. To make things worse, Kosuge was grinding against Aoki, making suggestive gestures, while Aoki caressed Kosuge’s waist with lewd intent. Lacking any desire to witness a romantic scene between two men, Okouchi left quickly before they noticed him.

At first, Okouchi had only felt shock at discovering Aoki’s sexuality, but later he realized it might be "useful." No matter how personal the issue, there were bound to be people who couldn’t accept such things. If this became known in the company, Aoki would likely become isolated and marginalized.

With that in mind, Okouchi had deliberately exposed Aoki’s personal life in front of others. That morning, Aoki had mistakenly sent a fax to a private residence, which led to a complaint. It was standard procedure to confirm the recipient after sending a fax, but Aoki had been preoccupied, helping with the demo presentation Isono was leading that afternoon, and for once had forgotten the confirmation. It was a minor error, and the document wasn’t important. Still, Okouchi had used it as an excuse to call Aoki over to his desk for a lecture.

“It was only a confirmation document this time, so it wasn’t a big deal. But if it had been an important document, how would you explain yourself? Today, we got a complaint, but what if we didn’t? If it were an important document and the recipient didn’t get it, we could end up offending a client, and you could lose an account for us.”

He exaggerated the issue. Aoki, taking full responsibility for the error, bowed his head repeatedly without a single excuse.

Whenever Okouchi lectured Aoki, he always kept his voice low, ensuring others couldn’t overhear. This was because most of the scoldings were over trivial mistakes that didn’t merit such reprimands. Okouchi was well aware that summoning Aoki to his desk for such minor matters was unnecessary. He kept his voice down not out of consideration but to prevent others from realizing how insignificant the issues truly were.

The real purpose of these lectures was to repeatedly call Aoki out in front of others, subtly reinforcing the impression that Aoki was an unreliable, mistake-prone employee. To Okouchi, it wasn’t about discipline—it was about branding Aoki as incompetent.

After harping on every minor detail and criticizing him mercilessly, Okouchi would let Aoki go, forcing one last apology before allowing him to return to his desk. As a weary Aoki was finally turning to leave, Okouchi stopped him again. With a tired expression, Aoki turned back, reluctantly asking, “Yes?”

“It’s unrelated to today’s issue, but I saw you in town the other day.”

Aoki tilted his head slightly, as if to say, “So what?”

“I saw you embracing a man in a secluded spot.”

Okouchi raised his voice deliberately. Nearby employees turned to look, just as expected. Aoki’s face instantly paled, the color draining as though it had been brushed with ash. The words were a stone dropped into the quiet pond of the office; all that remained was to watch the ripples spread.

Okouchi spoke again.

“I respect everyone’s personal life and have no prejudice regarding sexuality, but I would appreciate it if you could focus on your work rather than indulge in such matters. However, openly engaging in romantic scenes in public as a working adult might indicate a lack of professional morals. I suggest you reconsider your position and what ‘morality’ means.”

With a sigh, he flicked the documents in his hand.

“Then again, maybe the concept of ‘morality’ means nothing to you since you’re inclined toward men. Anyway, go on and get back to work.”

He waved him off as if shooing away a dog. But Aoki didn’t move from his spot in front of Okouchi’s desk.

“I told you to get back to work. Stop standing around.”

Raising his voice in irritation, he saw Aoki’s tightly clenched, purplish lips slowly open.

“You have no right to humiliate me. Why do you go out of your way to degrade me in front of everyone?”

For once, Aoki fought back, his tone defiant. Okouchi shrugged lightly, feigning indifference.

“You’re mistaken if you think I’m degrading you. If you feel that way, it must mean you’re aware of how immoral or shameful your actions are.”

“I’m neither ashamed of my sexuality nor do I see it as immoral. I didn’t tell anyone, including you, because I knew this environment wouldn’t be understanding.”

Feeling increasingly irritated with the man before him, who pleaded his case so earnestly, Okouchi grew exasperated with the situation he had created himself. He struck his desk with the stack of documents in frustration.

“Stop wasting time talking about irrelevant matters and get back to work. This is a company. If you’re aware that you’re getting paid, maybe you should focus on working instead of asserting your personal life.”

“You’re the one who brought up something unrelated to work first.”

Seeing that Aoki was not backing down, Okouchi, exasperated, rose from his chair.

“You may have time for this, but I have plenty of other things I need to get done.”

As he moved closer, Aoki, despite his confident attitude, hesitated and took a step back. Okouchi lightly tapped the taller man’s shoulder and whispered into his ear.

“Did you know? Even dogs don’t mate with the same sex.”

Turning back to the female employee he had asked to make copies, Okouchi saw that Aoki had returned to his desk, his head lowered, not appearing to be working. Meanwhile, Okouchi opened his drawer, remembering he’d promised to respond to a new employee’s proposal by the end of the day.

The office was unusually noisy with whispers, but Okouchi didn’t intervene. He knew exactly what they were discussing: the personal revelation he had dropped about Aoki. At his desk, Aoki sat with his head down, unmoving. Though he had returned to his workstation, it didn’t seem like he was working at all.

…It was about thirty minutes later that Aoki attacked him with a pair of scissors.

After reviving the memory of that terrifying incident for Okouchi, Aoki muttered bitterly, "I can’t help but wonder why I let someone like you destroy me. Why did I ruin my stomach, let myself fall apart, and ultimately have to quit a job I loved so much—without ever having a single one of my ideas accepted? And on top of that, you outed me as gay in front of everyone."

Okouchi glanced down at his watch. It was almost 3:00 a.m. He had work the next day and no desire to sit here listening to Aoki’s grievances all night. His motivation to apologize was less out of sincerity and more out of a desperate need to escape this situation. Planting his hands on the low table, he bowed his head.

"I’m truly sorry for everything I’ve done. I know money can’t make up for it, but as a token of my apology, would you consider accepting some compensation?"

"Compensation…" Aoki repeated softly.

"I’ll transfer 500,000 yen into your account by the end of today. Can you forgive me with that?"

There was no reply. Growing uneasy, Okouchi raised his head to find Aoki staring at him with cold, contemptuous eyes.

“It’s strange, isn’t it? Sometimes, just looking at you makes me feel an intense urge to kill. I wonder how I can control this impulse.”

It felt less like a threat and more like a genuine question directed at himself. The detached tone in Aoki’s voice only amplified the terrifying authenticity of the statement, sending a shiver down Okouchi’s spine. How could anyone respond to a man who openly admitted to wanting to kill them? There was no answer but to plead, Please, stop this.

"I need to pee," Aoki said abruptly, breaking the tense silence.

The sudden shift in mood was so jarring that it took Okouchi a moment to process. When he did, he sprang to his feet and pointed toward the living room exit.

"The bathroom’s out that door and to the right. Please, use it."

Aoki rose lazily from the sofa and asked, “Mind if I do it here?”

Okouchi blinked, sure he had misheard. "What?"

“I’m asking if it’s okay to go here.”

This was the living room, not a restroom. He couldn’t understand why Aoki would say something like that.

“So, is it okay or not?”

Aoki’s tone grew sharper, more forceful. Okouchi’s thoughts raced. If I say no, what will he do? This was the same man who had said moments ago that he wanted to kill him. It would be safer to comply, to avoid provoking him.

“Ah… please, go ahead.”

As soon as Okouchi weakly gave his consent, Aoki climbed onto the coffee table, still wearing his dirty sneakers, and stood in an imposing stance.

"Assistant Manager, stay seated on the sofa.”

Bound by Aoki’s command, Okouchi found himself unable to move from his seat. He watched in disbelief as Aoki unzipped his jeans, pulled out his penis, and held it in his right hand. This can’t be happening…

With a loud, hissing sound, a stream sprayed out, hitting him. Okouchi instinctively tried to rise from the sofa, but Aoki’s sharp “Don’t move” forced him to crouch down, clutching his head in his hands, as the warm, pungent ammonia smell filled the room. This can’t be real. This can’t be real. This can’t be real.

But the sensation of hot liquid soaking into his hair, dripping down his neck, and seeping into his suit—the evidence of what was happening, of Aoki urinating on him—was inescapable proof that it was.

“I feel much better now. Thank you.”

With a polite nod of gratitude, Aoki sat back down on the sofa, looking as composed as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Still seated on the single-seater, Okouchi clasped his hands tightly on his lap, staring in shock at the golden drops trickling down from his hair. He could hardly believe that, at his age, he’d been subjected to such degradation.

“It really does stink, doesn’t it?”

Despite having relieved himself like a dog wherever he pleased, Aoki scrunched his face in disgust.

“Why don’t you go take a shower?”

Though phrased as a suggestion, it was clearly an order. Not wanting to remain in this humiliating state any longer, Okouchi slowly rose to his feet. But Aoki followed him into the bathroom. With the man standing behind him, Okouchi hesitated, too unsettled to remove his wet suit.

“Could I… have some privacy?”

He made the request cautiously, but Aoki merely smiled, saying, “Let me wash your back.”

“I can do it myself.”

“But I’d really like to help.”

Realizing that Aoki wasn’t going to relent, Okouchi reluctantly began undressing. Before he had even fully undressed, Aoki grabbed the showerhead, turning the faucet with force. Without adjusting the temperature, he sprayed Okouchi with ice-cold water. Soaked by the rain, doused with urine, and now finished off with cold water, Okouchi’s body was drained of warmth, and he shivered, curling up in the corner of the shower.

“P-please… stop…”

The freezing spray showed no signs of stopping. Okouchi hugged himself, huddling up tightly.

“Please, I’m freezing… I can’t take it anymore…”

But no matter how much he begged, the water didn’t stop. Through his blurred, watery vision, he could see Aoki’s faint smile, clearly enjoying the situation. Okouchi bit his purple lips, feeling a deep sadness at his own trembling in a season that was not even cold. Overcome with misery, he started to cry, but his tears were washed away by the relentless water.

Only after thoroughly chilling Okouchi, Aoki murmured, “Let’s get out.” In the changing room, Okouchi finally managed to wrap himself in a bathrobe, but he was shivering uncontrollably, chilled to the bone.

“I have a request for you, Assistant Manager.”

Watching Okouchi with apparent satisfaction, Aoki spoke abruptly. A shudder ran down Okouchi’s spine, fearing what might come next.

“Would you mind if I… kept you as a pet?”

Aoki’s words were impossible to process rationally, and with a slight shrug, he let out a small laugh.

“There’s no need to look so sad. I’ll take good care of you, you know. Let me live here with you, so I can look after you.”

It was far from a normal proposal. Okouchi doubted Aoki was even approaching him with a sound mind. The mention of living together seemed to imply that this kind of treatment would become a daily routine.

But this “request” was clearly a “command,” and saying “no” wasn’t an option. If he refused, what would Aoki do? Would he back down peacefully? Or would he react violently, possibly harming him? Would he repeat the humiliation with another dousing of water? As he considered these possibilities, Okouchi felt increasingly nauseated.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t bring any pet supplies like a collar or leash today, so I’ll make do with this.”

Moving closer, Aoki untied the belt of Okouchi’s bathrobe and slowly wrapped the thin, white fabric around his neck. Anticipating the tightening, Okouchi’s eyes filled with tears, and he began to shake.

After fastening the ends of the belt, Aoki smiled, then pulled off Okouchi’s bathrobe entirely.

“Get on all fours, please.”

“Dogs don’t wear clothes, nor do they walk on two legs.”

Aoki delivered these commands with the utmost normality, as if his demands were the most natural thing in the world.

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