That Person: Chapter 12

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At his sister's insistence on having another drink, Matsushita found himself accompanying her and Kadowaki to the cocktail lounge of a nearby hotel. Though she had a seminar the next day, she emptied her glasses at a pace that made Matsushita worry. Kadowaki, who wasn’t averse to alcohol, matched her drink for drink, while Matsushita watched the city nightscape below through the lounge’s glass-paneled walls.

"Spending the day with a young man all to myself was a real treat," Yoshiko remarked, her tone buoyed by the alcohol. The candidness of her statement embarrassed Matsushita. When she left to touch up her makeup, he leaned toward Kadowaki and murmured, "You don’t have to humor her."

Kadowaki responded in a hushed, sultry tone, "It’s fine."

By ten o’clock, Yoshiko was thoroughly drunk, and Matsushita had to lend her his shoulder as they made their way home. She managed to steady herself by the time they reached the door, and after a shower, she emerged with her makeup removed, leaving Matsushita with a simple instruction: "Wake me at seven," before collapsing onto Kadowaki’s bed.

Once Yoshiko was out, peace returned to the apartment. Matsushita took a shower first, then waited in his room for Kadowaki. Fifteen minutes after Matsushita heard the bathroom door close behind him, there was a knock at the door. Kadowaki’s face was slightly flushed—more than usual, even accounting for the warmth of his bath.

"You drank quite a bit. Are you okay?" Matsushita asked.

Kadowaki tilted his head lazily, his movements unusually languid. "I’m fine. I handle alcohol well."

He pressed a hand to his own cheek. "I might look a little red, though."

Despite standing just inside the doorway, Kadowaki made no move to come closer. Instead, he said, "I’ll sleep on the sofa tonight."

"Do you not want to be in my room?" Matsushita’s voice sharpened with an edge of disbelief.

Startled, Kadowaki hurried to clarify, laughing nervously. "No, that’s not it. I smell like alcohol, and I thought you wouldn’t like that. You don’t drink much, after all."

Kadowaki’s consideration was evident, but at that moment, Matsushita had no patience for it. "Come here," he demanded, his voice tight with urgency.

Kadowaki approached reluctantly. Matsushita grabbed his slender waist and buried his face against Kadowaki’s stomach.

"…Did you do it on purpose?" Matsushita asked, his voice muffled.

"Do what?" Kadowaki’s confusion was genuine.

"Unbutton my shirt before I went to meet her. Did you do that on purpose?" Matsushita lifted his face, searching Kadowaki’s reaction.

Kadowaki’s ears turned red as his expression clouded with discomfort, his face a mix of guilt and the verge of tears.

"Did you intentionally leave the kiss mark visible to her?" Matsushita pressed.

"No… I didn’t," Kadowaki murmured, his voice trembling. "I really didn’t."

He averted his eyes and muttered his denial again, softly. His expression showed his discomfort, but his denial was firm. Matsushita didn’t know what to believe—his own instincts or Kadowaki’s words. The more he thought about it, the angrier he felt.

If Kadowaki had unbuttoned the shirt out of jealousy, Matsushita would have welcomed it. Jealousy was proof of affection. Even if it had been a clumsy, deliberate act, it would have made Matsushita happy. But Kadowaki’s insistence on denial, his refusal to admit anything, frustrated Matsushita. Why couldn’t he just say it? Why did he have to play the good, composed one, while Matsushita wrestled with his feelings alone?

"Why did you say it was an unrequited love?" Matsushita asked.

Realizing he was referring to the conversation at the restaurant, Kadowaki bit his lip lightly.

"Were you talking about me?" Matsushita pressed.

"Who else could it be?" Kadowaki replied, his tone lacking strength.

"Then why—?"

Kadowaki gently removed Matsushita’s clinging hands, leaving him with a sense of despair, before sitting down beside him.

"Before coming to Kobe, I thought that if I stayed by your side, everything would just work out," Kadowaki began, his voice calm and steady. "But reality was a little different. The more I wondered why you didn’t understand me, why I couldn’t get through to you, the more it felt like my feelings were one-sided. Like I was in an unrequited love."

Sitting side by side, Matsushita could sense Kadowaki’s body stiffen slightly. Kadowaki sighed deeply.

"You often say things like, ‘when you get tired of me’ or ‘when you start hating me.’ But I’m scared of you hating me. You’re not the type to express frustration or say outright if you’re angry. Sometimes I don’t know why you’re upset or how I should act."

Though Kadowaki voiced his insecurities, Matsushita knew it would be him who suffered the greater loss if their relationship ended. He had already experienced the ache of separation once and knew the unbearable pain of yearning for what was lost. Unlike when he briefly stepped away from mathematics and eventually reclaimed it, he feared there would be no way to reclaim Kadowaki. Losing him would mean an eternal void.

"Because we live together, I sometimes wonder if I’m too careless or if I’m being overbearing. I try to be mindful of how I act, checking your mood, trying to figure out if you’re upset..."

Before Kadowaki could continue, Matsushita pulled him close and kissed him. There was a faint taste of alcohol on Kadowaki’s lips, but Matsushita didn’t care. As his hand wandered over Kadowaki’s skin, he felt the younger man tense.

"Not tonight..." Kadowaki whispered.

"Why not?"

They had slept together the day before and the day before that. Matsushita couldn’t go a single day without him—not because of physical desire, but because his heart craved reassurance. He needed to feel Kadowaki’s love, not through words, but through touch and action.

Turning back toward the door, Kadowaki hesitated. "Your sister is here."

"She’s passed out drunk. She’s not going to wake up. And if you’re worried, I’ll lock the door."

Kadowaki’s face showed his unease. "It’s not just that..." he mumbled, hesitant.

After a pause, he finally said, "If she hears us..."

"She won’t. She’s too drunk to notice anything," Matsushita reassured him, dismissing his concerns.

Matsushita understood Kadowaki’s reluctance, but his own insecurity outweighed the potential risk of his sister finding out. When Kadowaki didn’t immediately agree, Matsushita, growing impatient, shook him lightly.

"Or is it not about my sister? Is it that you don’t want to be with me?"

"It’s not that. It’s not about not wanting to—"

Ignoring Kadowaki’s protest, Matsushita began undressing him. Kadowaki resisted briefly, but by the time his clothes were fully removed, he had given up. Matsushita’s desire for reassurance and his overwhelming love for Kadowaki surged through their physical connection. While it felt selfish and one-sided, he found comfort in Kadowaki’s body responding to him, in the way his kiss wasn’t rejected.

When Matsushita entered him from behind, Kadowaki gasped loudly once before pressing his face into the sheets to stifle his voice. Even after the act was over, Matsushita didn’t withdraw. He remained inside Kadowaki, clinging to him, unwilling to let go.

Before, all Matsushita had wanted was to be with Kadowaki, to ease his own insecurity. But afterward, all that remained was regret. Although Kadowaki had responded to him, there had been no enthusiasm. It felt like he had gone along with it out of resignation, not desire.

"Naofumi," Matsushita called softly, running his fingers through Kadowaki's hair.

But Kadowaki buried his face deep into the sheets, rejecting the touch. The subtle act of turning away struck Matsushita like a sharp blow. He tried again, this time brushing Kadowaki’s cheek, only for him to pull away even further. The overt rejection, so unlike anything he'd experienced before, filled Matsushita with a loss so profound it felt like falling off a cliff. Never had Kadowaki refused him so openly. The pain constricted his chest, leaving him breathless.

Rejection drained his courage. Matsushita withdrew his hand, afraid now even to touch him. He pulled out, letting the space between them grow, and turned to face the wall, deliberately creating a distance that left no part of their bodies connected.

Sleep did not come. If he fell asleep, he feared waking to an empty bed, abandoned by someone who had finally grown weary of him. The thought of Kadowaki leaving, of him walking away, weighed heavily on him. Matsushita began to wonder: had this happened because he didn’t stop when Kadowaki had said no? Would Kadowaki break up with him now? Just imagining the possibility brought tears to his eyes. The idea of being left to live with this hollow ache made him want to vanish entirely.

How pitiful, he thought, to die over being dumped by a lover. Yet, Matsushita was sure no one could understand the depth of his despair. He choked back sobs, his shoulders shaking as he buried his face in his arms. When he sensed Kadowaki moving beside him, he instinctively covered his ears, unwilling to hear the sound of him leaving.

Then a gentle finger brushed his tear-streaked cheek, startling him. Matsushita raised his head to find Kadowaki leaning over him, his expression soft but serious.

"Why are you crying?" Kadowaki asked.

Matsushita bristled at the question. It was so obvious; how could Kadowaki not know? He curled up tighter, shielding his face with his hands.

"Is it because I pushed you away earlier?" Kadowaki continued, his tone quiet. His fingers grazed Matsushita's hair, the touch soothing despite the tension.

"Do I not even have the freedom to get angry in front of you?" Kadowaki murmured, his voice steady but sad.

Matsushita couldn’t answer. No words came to him, leaving him feeling useless and ashamed. Kadowaki’s hand stayed gentle, stroking him as though Matsushita were something fragile. Then his touch grew bolder, trailing over Matsushita’s skin.

Still, Matsushita remained curled in on himself. Kadowaki leaned over him, his body pressing lightly against Matsushita’s. His lips brushed against Matsushita’s neck, his cheek, his tenderness melting away the tension. Slowly, Matsushita raised his face, his defenses weakening under the cascade of gentle kisses.

When Matsushita finally responded to Kadowaki’s lips, the wall between them dissolved. The rejection from earlier seemed like a distant memory. Kadowaki grew bold, his body pressing into Matsushita’s with an urgency that left no room for hesitation. His movements were intoxicating, like a sweet poison coursing through Matsushita’s veins, leaving him both overwhelmed and entranced.

As Matsushita wrapped his arms around Kadowaki’s trembling frame, Kadowaki nestled closer, rubbing his cheek against Matsushita’s and kissing his lips softly. With a small sigh of relief, Kadowaki finally seemed to relax, melting into Matsushita’s embrace.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The sweat made him terribly thirsty. Leaving his now-sleeping lover behind, Matsushita rose from the bed. He thought of walking to the kitchen naked but, fearing the chance encounter with his sister, he picked up the crumpled pajamas from under the bed and put them on. Too tired to bother with turning on the lights, he walked through the darkness. When he opened the living room door, a faint light was seeping out from the back. He assumed someone had forgotten to turn off the lights but froze when he saw a silhouette sitting at the dining table. He relaxed only when he realized it was his sister, holding a glass and gently swirling its contents. Water, perhaps?

"Can’t sleep?" he asked.

She ignored him completely, as though she hadn’t heard. Her blatant indifference irritated him slightly. Matsushita drank his water, the cold liquid soothing his dry throat, and prepared to leave. Just as he reached the doorway, she stopped him.

"Hey," she said. "I want to talk."

Startled by her sudden shift from silence, Matsushita sat down opposite her, unsure of what she was thinking.

"The hospital will start offering dialysis soon," she began.

Their father’s hospital, inherited by their mother after his passing, was now under her stewardship. His sister, a cardiologist at a university hospital, specialized in internal medicine related to cardiovascular issues. Dialysis wasn’t entirely unrelated to her field, though it leaned toward nephrology. When she mentioned attending a seminar on dialysis therapy earlier, Matsushita had wondered why. Now it made sense if the hospital was planning to implement it.

"The hospital’s struggling financially. We’re no longer in an era where patients simply come because we exist. Nowadays, they head straight to bigger hospitals. Dialysis, however, is profitable. I’ll probably return to the family hospital eventually, so I wanted to study it while I have the chance. I may not directly handle it, but it’s better to learn now than later."

She sighed, her tone tinged with weariness.

"But I suppose this doesn’t matter to you. You left medicine fifteen years ago. Father may have given up on you, but Mother still hopes you’ll come back. And why wouldn’t she? You were a doctor once, after all."

"It’s been fifteen years. I can’t go back now. Besides, with you and Takeshi—"

"Takeshi’s no good."

She dismissed their younger brother without hesitation.

"He’s more suited for research than clinical practice. At university, all he does is experiments. People have their strengths and weaknesses. I can’t force him to take over the hospital."

"Then it falls to you to inherit the hospital?"

"That’s how it’ll likely end up. Luckily for me, unlike you, I actually enjoy being a doctor."

Resting her elbows on the table, she ran her fingers roughly through her bangs.

"You’ve got it easy, don’t you? Living freely, without any obligations."

"I’m genuinely sorry if my decision to choose another path has burdened you."

"I understand. Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. No one had the right to stop you when you said you were quitting medicine. But it angers me to see you move far away when the family is struggling, shamelessly living with your male lover."

Her glare froze Matsushita in place. He lowered his gaze, unable to meet her eyes.

"So that boy is your lover, isn’t he? I always thought I didn’t have any prejudice against homosexuality, but I was wrong. Just thinking that someone in my own family is like that gives me chills."

Matsushita’s fingers, clasped tightly on the table, began to tremble. He couldn’t deny it. There were no words he could say.

"I've always been a light sleeper," his sister began, laughing bitterly through her nose. "Maybe it’s because of all the night shifts from work. I woke up from the noises coming from your room."

Her tone stung, each word piercing like a needle.

"I see now why you were so against me introducing someone to you. Having a male lover—it’s obvious you couldn’t possibly tell the family."

Her words hit him like shards of glass.

"You’re a grown man now, and it’s not my place to say anything. You surely know what you’re doing. But I’m going to tell Mother."

"Please don’t," Matsushita said, forgetting the late hour and raising his voice. "What purpose does that serve?"

She met his outburst with a sharp gaze that silenced him.

"I’m just going to tell her the truth. There’s no purpose beyond that," she said, her expression calm but cutting.

"If it’s pointless, then don’t make her worry unnecessarily."

She smirked, her lips curling mockingly.

"You barely ever go back to visit, and now you’re throwing around words like ‘worry.’ You’re just scared she’ll be disgusted with you, aren’t you? You’ve always done whatever Mother wanted, never saying what you really thought, always holding it in. Watching that always made me so mad."

"Please stop bringing up the past," Matsushita pleaded.

The sound of breaking glass shattered the tense silence. She had slammed her glass onto the floor, scattering it into fragments.

"Even now, Mother still holds out hope for you. Not for me or Takeshi, but for the man who quit medicine more than ten years ago. Every time something happens, I hear, ‘If Yoshimasa were here...’ I’m sick of it!"

Her slender shoulders heaved with ragged breaths.

"So I’m going to show her reality. I’ll tell her you’re living happily in Kobe with a man as your partner. That’ll make her finally give up on you."

"That’s not the same thing!" Matsushita shot back.

"It’s exactly the same! If you truly cared about Mother, you’d introduce him to her. You’d say, ‘This is my partner,’ and let her accept it. That would be the compassionate thing to do."

The words stuck in Matsushita’s throat. The kitchen, once filled with shouting, fell into a heavy silence. Even if he couldn’t introduce Kadowaki to anyone, Matsushita’s feelings for him were genuine, without a shred of pretense. But how could he explain that to his sister? The words wouldn’t come.

Suddenly, the light in the hallway flicked on, and footsteps approached. The door to the living room had been left open, and the person entering was Kadowaki, rubbing his sleepy eyes. He glanced at Matsushita’s sister and then down at the shattered glass on the floor.

"We were talking," Matsushita stammered awkwardly. "And, uh, I accidentally dropped it…"

"I see… Are both of you okay?" Kadowaki asked, his voice calm.

His sister smiled faintly and waved him closer. "Hey, can you come over here for a second?"

Unaware of the storm he was walking into, Kadowaki obediently moved toward her.

"You don’t need to come. Go back to the room," Matsushita barked, his voice louder than intended.

Kadowaki froze, clearly startled.

"I just want to ask him something," his sister said, her gaze fixed on him.

"Yoshiko, this has nothing to do with him," Matsushita interjected, stepping forward.

"Isn’t he gay? How did he seduce you?"

The bluntness of her words made Kadowaki stiffen visibly.

"You’re young. You don’t need to settle for an old man like my brother. Surely you can find someone better."

Kadowaki stood silent, his lips pressed tightly shut, neither confirming nor denying anything.

"Don’t just stand there! Say something!" she snapped, her voice sharp.

Then, as quick as a cat, she rose from her chair, crossed the space between them, and slapped him across the cheek. The sound echoed sharply in the room.

Matsushita turned pale and rushed between them, shielding Kadowaki behind him, his heart pounding.

“You fooled me with that polite facade,” his sister spat, her voice laced with venom. “And you, brother. How could you ask someone like him to guide me around? What kind of nerve does that take? It’s insane.”

Not long ago, she had called him a charming and intelligent young man, clearly liking him. But the moment she realized he was Matsushita’s lover, her tone turned scathing.

“It’s one thing for me to be criticized,” Matsushita said calmly, “but stop taking it out on him.”

He turned slightly to Kadowaki and whispered, “Go back to the room.”

“But…”

If he stayed, he would continue to bear the brunt of her fury. Before Matsushita could intervene, his sister stepped closer and grabbed Kadowaki’s arm.

“Get out! How can you stand there so shamelessly in front of me? Have you no awareness of what you’re doing?”

Matsushita forcibly placed himself between them, breaking her grip.

“And you,” she rounded on Matsushita. “Living with a male lover—don’t you realize how disgraceful that is?”

“I don’t think there’s anything disgraceful about it.”

She laughed through her nose and folded her arms.

“This shallow, make-believe relationship isn’t going to last. You,” she turned to Kadowaki, “would do well to leave this indecisive man before it ruins you.”

Kadowaki said nothing, enduring her words in silence.

“I can’t even bear to breathe the same air as you two,” she continued, her voice thick with disdain. “And I will tell Mother, no matter what you say.”

“I told you not to do that!” Matsushita’s voice rose.

“If that’s how you feel, introduce him to Mother yourself. Say, ‘This is my lover, someone I care about.’ Face what you’ve left behind. Face what you’ve thrown away.”

She smirked, her eyes cold. “Not that you have the guts to do that.”

For the first time, Matsushita thought his sister looked like a demon. His mother no longer carried the vitality she once did; the thought of unnecessarily saddening her filled him with dread. His stomach churned with pain, and he instinctively pressed a hand to his abdomen. He just wanted it all to stop. To be left alone. Balancing his work and maintaining his relationship was hard enough—he didn’t have the bandwidth to deal with family drama on top of it.

“There’s no need for Sensei to introduce me to his family,” Kadowaki said, stepping forward for the first time.

“It would be meaningless.”

The clarity and firmness in Kadowaki’s voice caught everyone off guard, even Matsushita’s sister, whose expression hardened further. Not wanting to escalate the situation, Matsushita instinctively grabbed Kadowaki’s arm in a silent plea, but it was shaken off with surprising force.

“You think it’s meaningless?” his sister said, her voice rising. “That’s just your convenient interpretation, isn’t it? It’s easier for you to keep quiet, so you twist it that way.”

“This isn’t about convenience,” Kadowaki replied, his tone steady. “If Sensei and his mother would only be hurt by bringing it up, there’s no point. And if Sensei and I were to break up someday, it would only leave bitter feelings for everyone involved. Ignorance is better.”

“Running away like that is cowardly.”

“Is it wrong to run?” Kadowaki shot back.

“Is it so terrible to want to avoid being hurt? To want to protect others from pain and protect yourself at the same time? I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

“You’re just justifying yourself.”

“I’m simply stating facts.”

“No matter what you say, it all sounds like excuses to me. If you can’t face it openly, then that just proves your relationship is shallow.”

Kadowaki lowered his eyes briefly, then raised them again, meeting her gaze squarely.

"Sensei is an adult. He can take responsibility for his actions. It’s not something to be dictated by others or forced upon him," he said in an unusually firm tone, one that didn’t seem like his usual self.

"But if he’s wrong, isn’t it only natural to correct him?"

"I don’t believe he’s wrong."

"Then let me put it differently," Matsushita’s sister said, glaring at him.

"Watching you two makes me sick. It’s disgusting."

Matsushita could sense Kadowaki gasp faintly.

"Feeling disgusted is your personal emotion," he replied evenly.

She laughed bitterly, then without warning, slapped him across the face. Matsushita didn’t even have time to intervene.

"Get out of my brother’s life, you snake!"

"No," Kadowaki replied firmly, meeting her gaze without flinching.

"I love Sensei. That’s why I said it, and why we are together. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. If the day comes when Sensei no longer needs me, I’ll leave. Until then, I plan to stay by his side."

"The family will never accept someone like you."

"I never expected them to. Knowing that, telling them anyway seems like nothing more than a petty act of malice. What’s the point of isolating Sensei from his family? Will that satisfy you? Will it ease your irritation?"

Her expression faltered, but Kadowaki pressed on.

"Do you think Sensei hasn’t wrestled with this? He has thought about it, and he decided not to tell. No one has the right to challenge that decision."

"You’re just cherry-picking the good parts of love," she sneered. "Maybe it’s fun now, but what about the future? Are you seriously planning to stay together forever?"

"If it’s possible…"

She folded her arms and sighed.

"That’s what everyone thinks in their youth. They delude themselves into believing their love is eternal. But reality sets in eventually. The passion fades. You might still have time to start over, but my brother doesn’t. Meeting you is ruining his life."

The tension between them hung like a taut string, and even Matsushita couldn’t bring himself to speak.

"Whether our time together is wasted or not is for Sensei to decide, not you," Kadowaki said, his voice steady.

"So you’re saying I shouldn’t meddle in your business?"

"Exactly."

"Pathetic,” she spat.

With that, she stomped out of the room. Kadowaki lowered his head, staring at the floor as if transfixed. Matsushita struggled to find the right words, any words, to reach him. Suddenly, the sound of bustling came from the hallway. Alarmed, he glanced toward the entrance just in time to see his sister leaving with her travel bag in hand.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I’m leaving."

"At this hour? Where will you go?"

"There are 24-hour cafés or family restaurants near the station. Anywhere is better than staying here."

Her movements were as forceful as her words, slamming the door behind her with a finality that echoed through the quiet. Matsushita was torn between worry for her and his inability to summon the courage to chase her. The fear of confrontation paralyzed him.

When he returned to the living room, Kadowaki was still standing in the same spot, motionless as if frozen in place. The tension in his stillness was almost palpable. The faint creak of the floor startled him into finally lifting his head, his eyes meeting Matsushita’s with a mix of weariness and fragility.

"Your sister…"

His voice lacked the force it had during their argument.

"She’s left."

Matsushita saw him bite his lip faintly, his gaze falling once again to the floor.

"Please forgive my sister for the terrible things she said to you, and for laying her hands on you."

"It’s fine for me. But…"

A pang of regret coursed through Matsushita’s chest—this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. His sister was meant to enjoy Kadowaki’s company, leave content, and head home. How had it devolved into this, a bitter argument in the small hours before dawn?

"You have an early day tomorrow, don’t you? You should get some sleep."

Expecting reproach, Matsushita braced himself, but Kadowaki’s tone remained surprisingly gentle. Despite all that had transpired—the forceful intimacy, the subsequent discovery by his sister, and the resulting chaos—his voice carried no anger.

"Aren’t you going to sleep?" Matsushita asked cautiously.

"I need to clean up the broken glass."

"Let me help," Matsushita offered immediately.

"It’s fine. It’s dangerous."

Kadowaki smiled faintly, a gesture that brought an unexpected wave of relief. Matsushita almost let the moment pass unremarked, but he found himself asking, "Is it okay for you to deal with something dangerous?"

Kadowaki looked up, his face tinged with sorrow.

"I can handle it better than you, that’s all," he replied softly.

Disappearing into the kitchen, he returned with a small broom. Matsushita hadn’t even known such a thing existed in the house. The scraping sound of shattered glass being swept into a pile was almost unbearable in the oppressive silence. When Kadowaki finally finished tidying, he turned to Matsushita, who had been standing idly by, and said:

"I want some time to think alone. You should go to bed, Sensei."

It wasn’t rejection, and so Matsushita quietly withdrew to his room. But even tucked beneath the covers, sleep eluded him.

Their mother would undoubtedly hear about this soon, and trouble would follow. If she cried in front of him, how could he possibly handle it? No matter how much she pleaded, he couldn’t imagine leaving Kadowaki. Yet the possibilities swirled endlessly in his mind—his sister’s words, Kadowaki’s words, his own actions, that night’s events.

He replayed the scenes over and over, searching for the precise moment where everything could have been corrected, futilely contemplating where it all went irreparably wrong.

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