That Person: Chapter 15

Previous TOC

Welcome Home

Leaving the reunion early, Naofumi Kadowaki arrived back in Kobe shortly after 11 PM. He hailed a taxi from the station and gave the driver the address of his apartment complex perched on a hill.

The faint scent of cigarettes lingered in the cab. Leaning back into the seat, Kadowaki closed his eyes. Ten years since graduation—faces and postures may have changed, but the essence of familiarity in his old classmates remained.

As they conversed, he’d learned surprising things: the classmate who once dreamed of becoming an actor had taken over a family tofu business, and the hot-headed guy who was always ready to fight had become a doting father. The hour he’d spent there had passed too quickly, and leaving early felt like a missed opportunity.

The taxi sped along familiar streets, now quiet in the late hour. Watching the cityscape through the window, he felt the tension drain from his body. Five years since being disowned, his life in Kobe now felt like home—a place where his existence fit naturally.

The roads were clear, and within 15 minutes, he was back at his apartment. Glancing up, he saw the faint light glowing in their window. Matsushita was still awake. Quickening his pace, Kadowaki entered the building, stepped into the elevator, and rode up to their floor.

Opening the door to the apartment, he immediately noticed a pair of unfamiliar sneakers in the entryway. He had a feeling he knew who they belonged to. Peeking into the living room, his suspicions were confirmed: Tasuku, Kadowaki’s younger brother, was sprawled out on the sofa, snoring loudly. His unkempt hair and slightly grimy face gave the impression he’d come straight from work. His right leg, which had slipped off the sofa, revealed jeans with a hole in the knee. It seemed likely he’d arrived still in his work clothes.

Kadowaki retrieved the cotton blanket Matsushita always used from the closet and gently draped it over Tasuku. Satisfied that he was covered, Kadowaki moved toward the bedroom.

Peeking through the slightly ajar door, he saw that the room was dark. He pushed the door open wider and entered quietly, keeping his steps light. Matsushita was lying on his back in bed. Even in the dim light spilling in from the hallway, Kadowaki could see the flush of fever on his cheeks. A damp towel rested on his forehead, but it felt warm to the touch.

Kadowaki picked up the basin of water left by the bed, wrung out the towel after wetting it again, and carefully placed it back on Matsushita’s forehead.

Matsushita’s eyelids fluttered, twitching slightly before squeezing shut, as though trying to resist waking. Slowly, his eyes opened, unfocused and glassy with fever. His gaze landed on Kadowaki, though it was clear his mind was still foggy.

Kadowaki crouched down next to the bed, his face close to Matsushita’s.

“I’m home,” he whispered.

“Naofumi?”

“I’m back.”

Kadowaki’s fingers brushed against Matsushita’s flushed cheek. His skin was slightly warmer than usual. Matsushita turned his gaze toward the touch and murmured faintly, “Kiss me.”

The vulnerable request from the usually composed man struck Kadowaki as endearing, and he complied, pressing his lips gently to Matsushita’s. His lips were dry and feverishly warm. When their kiss ended, Matsushita continued to gaze at him with hazy, fever-bright eyes.

“Still want more?” Kadowaki teased, stroking Matsushita’s cheek. The redness on Matsushita’s face deepened, not just from fever this time.

“…Is this a dream?” Matsushita whispered softly.

“Is that why you made such an adorably bold request, thinking it wasn’t real?”

“I thought… you’d be at the reunion…”

“I left early. Tasuku texted me to say you weren’t feeling well.”

Matsushita slowly raised his hands to cover his face, his voice muffled by his palms. “I’d asked him not to tell you…”

“I think he was worried. Did you go to the doctor? Have you taken your medicine?”

Peeking through his fingers, Matsushita gave a small, childlike nod.

“…You told me to go early if I wasn’t feeling well,” he murmured.

Kadowaki smiled and patted his head, a gesture of quiet praise.

“When I was about to leave for the clinic, Tasuku showed up. I guess he saw I wasn’t doing well and decided to come along. He even stayed to cook dinner for me.” Matsushita closed his eyes, his voice soft. “I’ve troubled him, and now you too. You left your reunion early because of me. I’m sorry.”

“Just rest and get better,” Kadowaki replied, stroking his hair gently.

Within minutes, Matsushita drifted back to sleep. Kadowaki carefully left the room, closing the bedroom door quietly behind him.

In the living room, Tasuku was awake, scrolling on his smartphone. He raised a hand in a lazy wave without looking up. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks for looking after him,” Kadowaki said, sitting across from his younger brother.

Tasuku yawned, muttering, “It’s nothing.”

“I mean it. It helped to know you were here.”

Tasuku set his phone on the table. “Yeah, well… I came because I had something to deliver anyway. The professor had asked me to make a wedding gift—a set of beer glasses and small plates.”

Kadowaki nodded. Matsushita had recently mentioned an acquaintance’s daughter getting married, but he hadn’t realized he’d tasked Tasuku with preparing a gift.

“When I got here, though, he was crouched by the front door. That guy… he always pushes himself until the last possible second.”

Tasuku had joined a pottery kiln in Tamba Sasayama as an apprentice after high school. His mentor specialized in creating simple, functional ceramics like bowls and plates rather than elaborate works of art.

Even after Kadowaki’s falling-out with their father over his relationship with Matsushita, he’d maintained contact with his siblings. Living nearby in Hyogo Prefecture, Tasuku and Kadowaki would occasionally meet up on weekends. Tasuku often brought experimental pieces he’d made, gifting bowls and plates to his brother.

Though understated in design, Tasuku’s work was simple, elegant, and practical. Kadowaki had never mentioned their origin, but one day Matsushita had asked, “Where did you buy this bowl?”

Kadowaki had explained that it was from Tamba Sasayama, made by someone he knew. That conversation eventually led to Matsushita asking for a custom set for a wedding gift.

When Kadowaki mentioned his relationship to his younger brother, Tasuku, the response was immediate: "I'd like to meet Matsushita at least once." They arranged for a meeting one weekend afternoon at the apartment, where the three of them talked for about an hour. It was Kadowaki's first time introducing a partner to his family, and though he was nervous, Matsushita seemed even more so. Despite the mild weather, Matsushita was drenched in sweat.

On the way out, as Kadowaki accompanied Tasuku to the building’s entrance, Tasuku chuckled. “He seems like a good guy. Definitely looks like an old man, though.”

At that time, a set of gift plates Tasuku had made became quite popular with Matsushita’s contacts. Matsushita began regularly placing orders with Tasuku, as his line of work often required gifts for professional occasions. Initially, Kadowaki acted as a go-between for the transactions, but as the orders increased, Matsushita grew more comfortable dealing with Tasuku directly. Tasuku mentioned once, “Even my mentor is thrilled—university folks are placing more and more orders.”

Whenever the commissioned items weren’t too large, Tasuku would personally deliver them to the apartment. Though he enjoyed working in a mountain pottery studio, surrounded by men the age of his father and grandfather, Tasuku often felt like he was “falling behind the times.” Deliveries gave him an excuse to venture into the city.

Last year, Matsushita replaced his ten-year-old car and gave the old one to Tasuku. It was still in good condition, and although Tasuku offered to pay something, Matsushita refused. “It’s been a decade, and the trade-in value wasn’t much anyway,” he said. For Tasuku, who earned barely more than a convenience store worker, the car was a huge blessing. Kadowaki still occasionally slipped him a little spending money when he could, knowing his younger brother’s financial struggles.

“Stay over tonight—it’s already late,” Kadowaki suggested.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Tasuku nodded. “Sure. I’ve got tomorrow off anyway.”

Stretching with a groan, he hugged a cushion and gave it a playful pat. “Hey, Nao-nii, I feel like drinking something.” (The suffix -nii (兄 or にい) is an informal, affectionate way to refer to an older brother)

While Kadowaki boiled water in the kitchen, he changed into something more comfortable. He brewed coffee in the mugs Tasuku had made and set them on the table, along with pigeon-shaped cookies, Hato Sabure, he’d hurriedly bought near the station on his way home.

“Why Hato Sabure cookies?”

Despite the complaint, Tasuku chomped down on the cookie’s head.

“Sensei likes them.”

Tasuku snorted and took another bite of the second cookie. Chewing thoughtfully, he muttered, “If you’re not careful, you’re headed straight for elderly caregiving, Nao-nii.”

Kadowaki nearly choked on his coffee.

“…Don’t you dare say that in front of him. He’s sensitive and overthinks things.”

“I won’t,” Tasuku said, smirking. “I’m an adult; I can read the room, you know.”

Though Matsushita looked younger than his age, he was well into his mid-forties. Kadowaki knew Matsushita was self-conscious about the age gap, even if he pretended not to care.

“You might see him as much older, but to him, he probably feels no different than he did in his youth.”

This seemed to fall flat with Tasuku, still in his early twenties. He gave a disinterested “Hmm,” sipping his coffee and running a finger along the edge of the mug.

"...This part here, it's warped, right?"

"Is it?"

"It is. That’s why it’s not sellable. Ugh, I don’t like it. I’ll bring another one. Can I toss this out?"

"Don’t," Kadowaki hastily objected. "That’s the one Matsushita likes and uses."

Reluctantly abandoning the idea of discarding the mug, Tasuku let out a long sigh. Then he pressed his hands against his ears, tapping lightly.

"What’s wrong?"

"Ugh, my ears are itchy."

"Want me to scratch them for you?"

Tasuku nodded. Fetching an ear pick and cotton swabs, Kadowaki returned to the sofa, where Tasuku lay his head on Kadowaki’s lap and shut his eyes.

Having grown up with both parents working, Kadowaki was accustomed to looking after his younger siblings. It wasn’t just tending to colds or treating injuries—he’d bathed them, changed his sister’s diapers, and frequently cleaned their ears. As he gently worked the ear pick and cotton swabs, Tasuku’s face softened, resembling a cat napping in the sun.

"All done."

Despite the announcement, Tasuku didn’t move from Kadowaki’s lap. Clearly, he was indulging in a moment of affection. Kadowaki couldn’t help but find his clingy younger brother endearing.

"You know," Tasuku murmured, "you’re more like a mom than Mom ever was."

"Am I?"

Although their appearances and personalities were quite different, Kadowaki couldn’t help but notice a faint similarity between Matsushita and Tasuku. Both had a needy, lonely streak that made him want to care for them.

The quiet night was interrupted by the sharp chime of the intercom.

"…Who could that be at this hour?"

Puzzled, Kadowaki checked the monitor.

"It’s me, me!"

On the screen appeared the image of his sister, Rin.

"Open up."

Hurriedly unlocking the door, Kadowaki barely stepped aside before Rin swung her ponytail and waltzed inside, a large sports bag slung over her shoulder.

"Ugh, I’m so tired," she mumbled, marching into the apartment as if it were her own.

The moment Rin entered the living room, Tasuku groaned loudly.

"Why are you here, Tasuku-nii?"

"Matsushita wasn’t feeling well, so he’s been checking on him," Kadowaki answered on his brother’s behalf. "I also had some work I needed him to handle."

"Oh, I see," Rin replied, plopping herself down across from Tasuku. She wore a loose top that contrasted sharply with her snug, fitted trousers, which accentuated her long legs. Her build reminded Kadowaki of his friend Yoshimoto, a tall, well-proportioned man. Rin’s physique was strikingly similar.

"Is your work like that Sadako-style stuff?" Rin's comment threw them off, leaving both Kadowaki and Tasuku bewildered.

"Huh?" Tasuku tilted his head, confused.

"You know," Rin said with an exasperated shrug, "your plates and mugs are so plain. Like the kind Sadako would use. You should make something chic, like polka dots or stripes."

Tasuku's lips curled in irritation, and his brows furrowed.

"Our studio doesn't pander to mass appeal like that."

"Mass appeal? That doesn't even make sense. Honestly, none of my friends would ever use such boring, lame mugs."

Tasuku, visibly ruffled, grabbed a cushion and hurled it at Rin.

"Don’t talk like you know anything when you can’t even tell the difference between ceramic and porcelain!"

"What’s your problem? I’m just being honest!" Rin retorted, clutching the edge of the cushion before springing to her feet, poised to retaliate.

"Stop it, both of you! You're acting like children in someone else's house!" Kadowaki’s stern voice cut through, and the two siblings instantly quieted down. Despite their frequent clashes, they generally got along well. But with their blunt personalities, any minor spark could ignite a full-blown argument.

Rin sighed, dropping back onto the sofa and curling into a ball, her heels pressed against the seat.

"Hey, Nao-nii, can I crash here tonight? I had a performance in Osaka and missed the last bullet train. Staying at a hotel would be such a waste."

"You can stay, but keep it down. Matsushita's resting; he's not feeling well."

"Okay~!" Rin replied cheerfully, her response childlike in its simplicity.

After high school, Rin had joined a dance academy and eventually signed with a production company. Her career as a dancer seemed steady, with a continuous stream of gigs, from music videos to backup dancing.

Once, Matsushita and Kadowaki attended one of her performances after being invited. Surrounded by a younger crowd, they felt distinctly out of place despite dressing casually to blend in. The experience was akin to a Shiba Inu amidst a flock of Poodles—slightly awkward but undeniably full of energy radiating from Rin on stage.

Since that visit, Rin had made a habit of dropping by whenever she had work in the area, often finding an excuse to linger.

"Nao-nii, I’m thirsty—can I have some water?"

Kadowaki handed her a bottle of mineral water, and she guzzled half of it in one go.

"Ooh, Hato Sabure cookies! Can I have one?"

Before Kadowaki could respond, she had already reached for one, biting into the bird-shaped cookie just as Tasuku had earlier.

"If you keep snacking at night, you’re gonna gain weight," Tasuku quipped.

Rin froze mid-bite, her expression stiffening.

"...It's fine. I’ll burn off these calories with tomorrow’s practice."

"Fat dancers are an assault on the eyes, though," Tasuku added unnecessarily, earning a sharp glare from Rin.

"Mind your business! What does it matter to you if I gain weight? You don’t even bother coming to my performances! Nao-nii and Matsushita came to watch, unlike you!"

Rin had previously vented her frustration to Kadowaki for over an hour after Tasuku ignored her invitation to one of her performances.

It seemed her resentment hadn’t entirely faded.

"That's why I told you I couldn't go because of work. You should ask me about my schedule before sending tickets," Tasuku said, pointing at Rin.

"I texted you, but you didn’t reply," Rin snapped, turning her head away with a pout.

"I always reply by the next day."

"That’s too late! If you were my boyfriend, this would be the ultimate ghosting," she retorted.

"I’m not your boyfriend."

"I said if you were! Ugh, you're so annoying, Tasuku-nii. Just go back to the mountains and make your creepy Sadako-style pottery for monkeys or whatever."

"...Both of you, cut it out already," Kadowaki interjected with an exasperated sigh. "Rin, limit yourself to one cookie. Tasuku, do you want more coffee?"

Rin nodded, and Tasuku slumped back onto the sofa, abandoning his combative stance. Rin munched on her sable cookies in silence for a moment before turning to Kadowaki.

"Hey, it’s been, like, six years since the three of us were together, right?"

"Yeah, probably about that long," Tasuku replied, scratching his jaw.

"Ever since Nao-nii dropped that bombshell about ‘going to live with a guy’ and moved out," Rin said casually.

Kadowaki could still vividly recall the look on his father’s face when he’d confessed the truth all those years ago. It wasn’t a memory he wanted to keep, but one he felt he shouldn’t forget either.

"That really shocked me. I mean, Dad and Mom were totally devastated," Rin added, her tone matter-of-fact but carrying a sting Kadowaki hadn’t expected. The pain in his chest deepened.

"If it had been Tasuku-nii or me, they probably wouldn’t have taken it so hard," Rin continued.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Tasuku interjected, frowning.

"Well," Rin said, resting her chin on her knees, "Nao-nii was always the smart, perfect one. Dad and Mom were so proud of him. He wasn’t a stubborn fool like you, Tasuku-nii, or someone crazy like me, saying I wouldn’t go to high school because I wanted to make a living as a dancer. Nao-nii studied hard, got into a good university, landed a great job, and then suddenly announced he was quitting to live with a man. If it had been one of us, they probably would’ve just thought, ‘Oh, there they go again, doing something stupid.’ But with Nao-nii, the gap between their expectations and reality was just too big."

"...Did you just call me stupid?" Tasuku asked sharply.

"You are stupid," Rin shot back. "You almost didn’t graduate high school because of all your failing grades."

Kadowaki, who had already left home by that time, hadn’t heard about Tasuku’s struggles in school. He glanced at his brother.

"Is that true?" he asked.

Tasuku’s face turned bright red. "Shut up! You don’t need to blab about everything!" he yelled at Rin.

"But I think it's fine now," Rin said, her voice softening unexpectedly. "Nao-nii, I think you can just go back, like, no big deal."

The suggestion took Kadowaki by surprise. "Go back? You mean… home?" he murmured.

"Yeah. Maybe not with your boyfriend just yet, but I think it’d be fine if you went by yourself. If it’s awkward, I can even come along with you."

The thought of returning to the home he’d been disowned from was one Kadowaki had never seriously entertained.

"But Dad..." he started.

"Dad might be tricky," Rin admitted. "But I think Mom would be fine. She’s the one who first asked me to check on you, you know."

"What?" Tasuku exclaimed, clearly startled.

Kadowaki turned to Rin, his disbelief mirrored on his face. "Mom said that?"

"Yeah," Rin replied with a shrug. "She asked me to find out how you were doing. She’s worried about you, you know."

The revelation left Kadowaki speechless, the weight of his sister’s words sinking in as he imagined a possibility he’d long thought closed to him.

Tasuku sighed. "Mom never said anything like that to me."

"Well, Tasuku-nii, you barely reply to her—or me, for that matter. When you finally do, it’s always these super-short messages," Rin shot back, rummaging through her bag before pulling out her smartphone.

"And you know what? I showed Mom a picture of the professor," she added.

Kadowaki swallowed hard. A trickle of nervous sweat ran down his back. He’d noticed Rin snapping a picture of Matsushita on a previous visit, but he hadn’t expected this.

"...What did she say?" he asked cautiously.

Rin pursed her lips, thinking. "She seemed... a little disappointed."

"Disappointed? How so?" Kadowaki pressed.

"Don’t get mad, okay?" Rin warned, looking up at him from under her lashes.

"Professor Matsushita is a great guy," she began, clearly choosing her words carefully. "He comes to my performances, always treats me to delicious meals when I visit. But... well, you know, he’s obviously middle-aged. Mom was like, ‘Why did he choose someone so much older?’"

Kadowaki didn’t know how to respond. In the beginning, he’d been conscious of their age difference too, but over time, it had faded into insignificance. Yet he understood how it might look to others.

He must have looked more affected than he realized, because Rin quickly waved her hands in reassurance. "But it’s fine!" she exclaimed. "I totally vouched for him. I told her he’s got a nice condo in Kobe, probably has some money saved up, and he’s super kind. Way better than some high-maintenance woman! And, most importantly, I said that when you two talk about those crazy math things, you look genuinely happy."

Kadowaki pressed his hand to his forehead. "...Thanks," he mumbled, though his tone was more resigned than grateful.

Tasuku, lounging nearby with a cushion, suddenly hurled it at Rin. "Have some tact! Think about how this makes him feel. Calling his boyfriend middle-aged like that is harsh."

This, coming from the guy who’d earlier joked about elder care, Kadowaki thought wryly.

"But it’s the truth," Rin said unapologetically, catching the cushion. "There are gay dancers in my team, and they’re super hot. One of them has a Jamaican boyfriend, even."

She clapped her hand over her mouth as though realizing something. "Oh no. Before I showed Mom the professor’s picture, I tried to ‘prepare’ her by showing her a photo of one of the dancers. Maybe she compared the two..."

"You’re an idiot," Tasuku said flatly, his chin jutting forward.

"If you show someone the best first, whatever comes next is bound to look worse by comparison," he continued. "You should’ve started with some unflattering examples. Then the professor would’ve seemed better in comparison."

"Well, I figured starting with someone visually appealing would make the idea of a gay relationship easier for her to accept," Rin retorted. "Stop complaining and help me out, Tasuku-nii! If you don’t back me up, Nao-nii will never get to come home."

Rin and Tasuku bickered on, voices growing louder. Their methods might have been clumsy, and their words sometimes stung, but Kadowaki could feel the genuine care behind their efforts. They accepted Matsushita and were doing their best to bridge the gap between him and their family.

His chest felt warm as gratitude welled up.

"Nao-nii, you should come home once when Dad isn’t around," Rin said. "Mom really wants to see you. When I told her you’d become a university professor, she said she wished she could’ve celebrated that. Then, next time, bring the professor along. Get Mom on your side. Once it’s three against one, Dad won’t be able to say anything."

Kadowaki pressed his hands against his face, trying to hold back the tears, but they spilled over regardless. Rin noticed immediately.

"Are you crying?" she asked.

He had always looked after his younger siblings, believing it was his duty. But now, they were no longer children, and he found himself leaning on them instead.

"...Thank you," he murmured, the words slipping from his lips.

Rin studied him closely. "I love you, Nao-nii," she said simply.

"And no matter what, I’ll always be on your side. If Dad doesn’t like it, just ignore him. By the time he passes away, same-sex marriage will probably be legal anyway."

"I’m with you too," Tasuku chimed in, raising his right hand slightly. "The professor’s one of my best clients, after all. I’ll subtly let Dad know about that."

"Don’t be subtle; make a huge deal out of it," Rin countered.

The tears came faster now, uncontrollable, and Kadowaki stood abruptly, retreating to the bathroom. He leaned over the sink, his reflection blurred by his tears. Even pressing a towel to his face couldn’t muffle the sobs that wracked his body.

The door opened with a soft click. Startled, Kadowaki turned to see Matsushita standing there.

"...Ah, you scared me," Kadowaki muttered, though Matsushita’s calm demeanor showed no trace of surprise. Slowly, the older man stepped into the room.

"Why are you here, Sensei?" Kadowaki asked, his voice trembling.

"I was sweating," Matsushita replied, gesturing toward the wardrobe. "I thought I’d change."

But then he paused, tilting his head as he looked at Kadowaki. "Are you crying?"

Kadowaki shook his head vigorously, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

"Did something sad happen?" Matsushita asked, reaching out to touch his cheek with warm fingers.

Unable to hold back any longer, Kadowaki flung his arms around Matsushita, clinging to him desperately. Matsushita’s body bumped into the closet door, which creaked under the pressure.

"Sensei... Sensei..."

He clung to the man he had chosen, whose body felt like it was burning with fever.

"It’s okay... You’re okay now," Matsushita murmured, his hand gently stroking Kadowaki’s back as if to comfort him, even though he didn’t fully understand what was happening.

But that was enough. Matsushita didn’t need to know everything. All Kadowaki needed was for him to be there, offering solace.

"...Hold me tighter," Kadowaki whispered.

And Matsushita’s arms tightened around him in response. Pressing his face into the faintly sweat-scented chest before him, Kadowaki let himself cry silently for a little longer.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Rin slept in his room, Tasuku on the sofa, and Kadowaki laid out a futon in Matsushita’s room to sleep. The moment he got into the futon around two in the morning, he was out cold.

When he woke up, Matsushita wasn’t in the bed. The clock read just past 8 a.m. As Kadowaki stepped out of the bedroom, he could hear Rin’s laughter echoing down the hallway.

“Sensei, this is a disaster!” she exclaimed.

“Well, but you see… if I could just address the denaturation of the proteins before…” Matsushita’s response was flustered.

“We don’t need any more explanations. Just give it to me,” Rin said with a sigh.

Curious, Kadowaki peeked into the living room and kitchen. Rin was standing at the stove, while Matsushita retreated sheepishly to the sofa.

“Sensei, you’re full of theories, but you’re so clumsy,” Tasuku remarked from where he was lounging on the sofa like a mafia boss, sparing no words in his critique.

“Well… my fingers don’t move as my imagination envisions. But with repeated daily practice, I feel there might be some improvement,” Matsushita replied earnestly.

Tasuku squinted at him. “So, what you’re saying is, you can’t even make a fried egg, right?”

After a brief pause, Matsushita admitted, “That’s correct.” Kadowaki stifled a laugh, pressing his hand to his mouth.

“I always assumed it couldn’t be too difficult since your brother makes them so effortlessly, but… apparently, I underestimated the importance of the right amount of oil and the gas stove’s heat control.”

“Well, sounds like you messed up the oil and the heat. End of story,” Tasuku said mercilessly.

Matsushita looked forlorn. “I hope Rin-san can salvage my failure. Asking a guest to cook is terribly shameful…”

“Look, everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. I don’t cook either, so don’t worry about it, Sensei,” Tasuku said, patting Matsushita’s shoulder reassuringly.

“Oh, Sensei,” Tasuku suddenly remembered. “Did you see the beer glasses I brought?”

“Yes, I did. They’re beautifully crafted. I’m sure the recipient will be thrilled. Could you make two more of the same glasses?”

“For another gift?” Tasuku asked.

“No,” Matsushita shook his head. “I’d like them for myself. Drinking from those glasses would make the experience more pleasant.”

Tasuku’s grin widened, clearly pleased with the compliment. Then, as if to share a secret, he leaned closer and whispered something into Matsushita’s ear. Kadowaki couldn’t hear what he said.

“Well… I personally like the aesthetic of your current work,” Matsushita replied, a little hesitantly. “I don’t think it needs polka dots or stripes…”

Tasuku nodded enthusiastically before turning to the kitchen. “Hey, Rin!” he called.

“Sensei says my pottery is fine the way it is, without polka dots. See? Adults get it.”

“Oh, so you think you’ve got Sensei on your side now? You’re so dumb,” Rin shot back with a dramatic sigh.

“And all I said was that my friends wouldn’t use it. Sensei, compared to my friends, is definitely on Team Sadako. Now stop lounging and come help set the table!”

Although the command was directed at Tasuku, Matsushita immediately started toward the kitchen. Seeing this, Rin snapped, “Sensei, sit down!” with finality.

"People recovering from illness shouldn’t have to work. Tasuku-nii, hurry up!"

Reluctantly, Tasuku entered the kitchen and began pulling out dishes as instructed by Rin.

“Oh, Sensei, can you wake Nao-nii up?”

Given her orders, Matsushita stepped into the hallway. When he noticed Kadowaki stifling a laugh, he averted his eyes awkwardly.

“Ah, you were already awake?”

“For a little while now. …It seems you’re feeling better, Sensei.”

“When I woke up, my fever was gone. Perhaps it’s thanks to you being by my side.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“But when you’re near, I feel like I recover faster.”

The warmth of the words seeped into Kadowaki’s chest, bringing a quiet joy from being needed.

From the hallway, the sounds of Rin and Tasuku bickering carried on.

“Sorry for how noisy my siblings are. They’ve got sharp tongues too.”

“They’re fun. Honest, straightforward, and with no hidden sides to them… kind, like you.”

Matsushita chuckled softly.

“Watching them, I felt like doing something for them. So, despite being out of my element, I thought I’d make breakfast. But I couldn’t even manage a fried egg.”

He scratched his bedhead awkwardly, a hint of embarrassment in his expression. Kadowaki felt his heart swell. He loved this man—had loved him for years—and that feeling only grew deeper with time.

“...When summer break comes,” Kadowaki began.

Matsushita looked up.

“I’ve been thinking about going home for a visit. Would you come with me?”

Matsushita met Kadowaki’s gaze and nodded. “Of course.”

“I’d like to introduce you to my mother—as the person I love.”

Kadowaki thought of how kind Matsushita was, though sensitive and nervous at times. He wanted his family to meet the man he loved, to stand confidently and say, “This is the person I chose.” He believed his family would accept it—not immediately, perhaps, but someday.

“Are you sure it’s okay for it to be me?” Matsushita asked, his voice soft.

The question made Kadowaki laugh.

“It has to be you, Sensei. If it’s not you, I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

Matsushita pressed a hand to his eyes. He might have been crying, but before Kadowaki could be certain, Rin appeared, her loud voice breaking the moment and filling the space with chaos. The answer—whether Matsushita had shed tears—remained a mystery.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

As they exited the train station for the local line, the sharp sunlight pricked their skin like needles. They considered taking a taxi but decided to walk instead, as it was only about ten minutes on foot. Matsushita donned a Panama hat. Matsushita often wore hats, and the Panama suited him well.

After only a few steps, Matsushita stopped abruptly.

“What’s wrong?”

When Kadowaki turned back, Matsushita was staring at him with a serious expression. “Is there anything off about me?”

“There’s nothing wrong at all.”

Reassured, Matsushita started walking again. But within three minutes, he stopped once more.

“Do you think we brought enough gifts?”

“It’s more than enough. Right now, it’s just my mom and Rin at home. If we bring too much, they won’t be able to finish it all.”

“I see,” Matsushita said, looking relieved before continuing onward. This was the third or fourth time since they left Kobe that a similar exchange had occurred. Clearly, he was nervous.

Taking advantage of the long summer break, Kadowaki had decided to return to his hometown with Matsushita. While Kadowaki wore a casual outfit—just a shirt and cotton pants—Matsushita had meticulously chosen to wear a proper suit. Even when Kadowaki suggested a more relaxed attire, Matsushita had insisted, “This sort of occasion calls for proper dress,” so Kadowaki left him to it.

Today, the house was occupied only by Kadowaki’s mother and Rin. His father was out. Just as Matsushita stopped walking again, Kadowaki turned, half-dreading what might be next.

“Your mother probably hoped you’d bring home a girl, didn’t she?”

At this late stage, Matsushita was voicing something impossible to change, and Kadowaki sighed.

“Probably, yes. But I fell for you, Sensei, so I want her to meet you.”

Matsushita was silent for a while before replying softly, “Alright.”

As they neared a familiar corner, Kadowaki recognized the turn that would reveal the family gate.

“I once heard a friend say they were so nervous they thought they’d die before meeting their partner’s parents for the first time.”

Matsushita’s voice broke the silence beside him. After a pause, he added, “I feel the same way. But I want your mother to feel she can trust me to take care of you, so I’ll do my best.”

That level of effort wasn’t necessary, but Matsushita’s earnest awkwardness only made him more endearing. Despite his nerves and the likely discomfort, he had still chosen to accompany Kadowaki. It was a gesture that made Kadowaki’s heart swell with gratitude.

They reached the front of the house. Matsushita’s hand, which Kadowaki took in his own, was slick with sweat. Holding it tightly, Kadowaki led them slowly through the gate.

As he took in the nostalgic sight of the garden, Kadowaki murmured silently to himself, “I’m home.”

THE END

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