That Person: Chapter 7

Previous TOC Next

The new world came rushing in alongside the blooming of cherry blossoms. Unlike the relaxed days surrounded by equations during his student life, the working world had an endless list of things to learn—how to greet properly, understanding a superior’s hobbies. These rituals, deemed necessary as part of becoming a member of society, struck Kadowaki as unbearably foolish.

A few months in, he finally grew accustomed to tying a tie, a skill that had felt awkward at first. The small rebellions he harbored gradually transformed into “unavoidable daily routines.”

Kadowaki had just finished a grueling day of following a senior on client visits and being saddled with overtime. By the time he reached the bar where he was supposed to meet his friends, he was 30 minutes late. Yoshimoto and Mikasa had started without him. As soon as Kadowaki sat down, Yoshimoto launched into a tirade of complaints about Mikasa. Kadowaki exchanged a wry smile with Mikasa.

Yoshimoto had joined a real estate company that handled everything from hotels to recreational facilities, and it seemed he and Mikasa’s construction firm occasionally worked together. Since February, the two had started living together. Despite their obvious affection for each other, Yoshimoto inevitably vented about Mikasa whenever he met up with Kadowaki. Yet, his complaints were trivial and seemed to dissipate as soon as he voiced them. Eventually, running out of grievances, Yoshimoto shifted the conversation to work. As they discussed the construction industry, a topic Kadowaki didn’t know much about, he quietly listened.

Perhaps because he was thirsty, he noticed he was drinking his beer faster than usual. His body was exhausted from spending all day visiting clients. Each day felt like a desperate struggle to tackle the endless onslaught of tasks. While smiling in front of clients, there were moments when Kadowaki would suddenly wonder who he really was.

He had joined his company with hopes of working in the development department but was instead assigned to sales. He understood that not everyone landed their dream role, and he tried to approach his work earnestly. Still, it was hard to endure the disconnect between what he had spent four years studying and what his job required.

Sales required a mastery of product knowledge, an instinct for pitching, and the ability to smile anywhere, anytime. Kadowaki, who struggled with forced smiles, was often scolded by his senior: "Don’t look so sullen in front of the client!" He practiced smiling desperately in front of a mirror.

Recently, Kadowaki found himself thinking about Matsushita often. On his way home from a work-related drinking party, he had taken a subway line he used during his student days. Though only a few months had passed, the ride felt nostalgic, and on a whim, he got off at the station near his old apartment. Walking along the riverside path, he saw the apartment building where Matsushita had lived. The light in Matsushita’s former room was on, but Matsushita no longer lived there. Kadowaki knew the unit had been put up for sale and was quickly taken off the market.

Why does Matsushita still linger in my thoughts? Kadowaki wondered. Was it because they had shared a physical relationship for nearly six months, even if there hadn’t been romantic feelings? He recalled Yoshimoto’s words: you feel a thrill just from being touched by your partner. Kadowaki had never felt that way about Matsushita. By that measure, what they had wasn’t love. Then why, even now, did memories of Matsushita resurface so often?

"You look exhausted. Are you okay?" Yoshimoto’s concerned voice brought him back to reality. Kadowaki forced a smile to reassure him.

"I’m fine. It’s just the constant client visits—they’re a bit tiring."

"Sales, huh? That’s tough," Mikasa said, his tone serious. Yoshimoto, shrugging, added with a smirk, "You’d never last in sales, with how oblivious you are."

"To be honest, I always thought you'd go to graduate school," Yoshimoto said. "I figured research or something along those lines would suit you better than working at a company."

Kadowaki laughed. In the end, his younger brother had decided against pursuing further education. Kadowaki didn’t know the full details, but apparently, after extensive discussions with his homeroom teacher, parents, and his brother himself, it was decided that his brother would apprentice under a ceramic artist. The teacher had suggested that even for a career in ceramics, studying the basics at a vocational school or university would be beneficial, but his brother refused to listen.

Meanwhile, his sister had become deeply engrossed in dance and was now saying she wanted to go professional. Kadowaki had known she had been taking dance lessons for some time, but she had recently won a regional competition at a dance contest, showing she had some talent. Contrary to Kadowaki’s expectations, his brother was quickly becoming independent, and his sister showed no signs of wanting to attend university. Their mother had sighed and remarked, "You're the only reliable one in the family."

Kadowaki had tried to make decisions that wouldn’t burden his family, thinking of his brother and sister's futures, but in the end, it was just his own assumption. Both siblings were pursuing their passions without a care for the plans Kadowaki had envisioned for them.

He drank down the newly delivered beer in one gulp. Tomorrow was Saturday, and the company was closed. The thought of not needing to force a smile for a day was his only solace.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Although slightly intoxicated, Kadowaki wasn’t stumbling. He parted ways with Yoshimoto and Mikasa in front of the restaurant, suppressing the urge to say, “How about one more drink?” He knew Mikasa had work the next day and didn’t want to inconvenience him. Yoshimoto might have gone along, but it felt wrong to leave Mikasa to return home alone when they lived together.

Unwilling to go back to his empty apartment, Kadowaki wandered into the bustling streets. Being a Friday night, the city was crowded. Near the station, he noticed a large bookstore he hadn’t visited since graduation. Drawn to it almost unconsciously, he walked in, bypassed the magazine racks, and took the elevator to the floor with specialized books.

Around this time last year, he had come here almost daily, desperately searching for resources for his thesis. While it was possible to buy books online, Kadowaki preferred to hold them in his hands before purchasing. After graduation, though, he had distanced himself so much from the world of mathematics that he sometimes questioned what he had been studying for those four years.

Without any intent to buy, he picked up a book. Its familiar spine brought a rush of nostalgia—it was a book he had seen at Matsushita’s house. A good book, one he hadn’t purchased but borrowed instead. The overwhelming nostalgia sparked a fleeting desire to own it, but a glance at the price tag made him sigh. Specialty books were expensive, and buying it now would only satisfy a passing whim; he knew he’d likely never use it.

As he returned the book to its shelf, another book was deftly pulled from a slightly higher position nearby. This section was exclusively for mathematical texts, so it was likely a teacher or professional. Following the motion of the hand, Kadowaki’s eyes traveled to the face of the person holding the book—and he froze, stunned.

There was no mistaking the slow, deliberate way those fingers flipped through the pages. After briefly examining the contents, the person tucked the book under his arm.

“Ah,” Matsushita said softly, noticing Kadowaki just as he turned to walk away. They stood facing each other, speechless at first. The surprise on Matsushita’s face gradually faded into a gentle smile.

“It’s been a while.”

He hadn’t changed much in the half-year since they last met. Perhaps he had lost a bit of weight, and his hair was slightly shorter.

“Yes, it has. You seem well, Sensei,” Kadowaki managed to say, though his voice felt stiff.

Matsushita laughed faintly. “Do I? I’ve actually lost some weight. Kobe is a lovely place, but I’ve had a hard time adjusting. Embarrassingly, I developed a stomach ulcer not long after moving there.”

“Are you all right?”

“I’ve settled in now and am managing, thank you,” Matsushita replied, narrowing his eyes slightly as he regarded Kadowaki. “Seeing you in a suit, I’m reminded that you’re no longer a student. How’s work going?”

Unable to vent his frustrations, Kadowaki offered only a vague response. “I’m managing.”

“I see,” Matsushita said, glancing at his watch. Sensing the unspoken urgency, Kadowaki asked, “What brings you here?”

“I was visiting for my grandmother’s memorial service and decided to stop by this bookstore. Their selection is better than what I can find in Kobe.”

Again, Matsushita checked the time. It was clear he was in a hurry. “Are you in a rush?”

“I need to catch the last Shinkansen back,” he explained, glancing at the time again—it was almost 9 p.m.

“It was good to see you again, and I’m glad you’re doing well. Take care,” Matsushita said with a slight bow. Turning away, he headed straight to the register to pay for his book.

Kadowaki watched his back as he made his purchase. If he let him go now, it would all end here. Overcome with urgency, Kadowaki found himself running after Matsushita, stopping just as he reached the elevator where Matsushita waited.

"Sensei."

Matsushita turned around.

"Could you share your address in Kobe? I realized I never asked for it."

Matsushita looked at Kadowaki, began to say "Kobe City..." but stopped, casting his eyes downward.

"I’ve forgotten it," he murmured.

"Then could I send you an email later?" Kadowaki asked. He already knew Matsushita's previous phone number and email address. A simple "yes" would have sufficed, but Matsushita didn’t reply immediately.

"I changed providers after moving, so my phone number and email address have also changed."

"Then could you give me your new contact information?"

"I don’t want to give you my phone number, email address, or my address," Matsushita said firmly.

Before Kadowaki could ask why, Matsushita continued.

"If you're worried about things like summer greetings or New Year’s cards, don’t trouble yourself with me."

That wasn’t the reason. But why did Kadowaki even want Matsushita’s address so badly?

"If I were to give you my address or phone number, I’d start hoping for something—thinking that maybe one day you’d contact me. Even if I knew it was just politeness or a formality. And if that happened, I’d feel pathetic. It’s better to let myself believe you simply don’t know."

Matsushita glanced at his watch again.

"I don’t have much time. But I was happy to see you today and to see your face."

As the elevator doors opened, Matsushita bowed slightly and stepped inside. The doors slid shut. Left behind, Kadowaki stared blankly after him.

The last time they had spent time alone together was back in February when they had dinner. Afterward, when Kadowaki went to return the laptop he had borrowed, the apartment was already listed for sale. On the day of the graduation ceremony, Kadowaki spotted Matsushita before entering the auditorium and told him, "I’d like to return the laptop." But Matsushita had merely said, "Just throw it away," and left it at that.

Now, Kadowaki didn’t know Matsushita’s phone number or address. He couldn’t let things end like this. His chest churned with confusion, though he didn’t know why. Something pushed him forward, though he couldn’t name it. Without understanding, he found himself running—racing toward the train station.

At the ticket gate, he spotted a familiar figure ahead. Afraid he’d be too late, he called out loudly, "Sensei!"

Just before passing through the gates, Matsushita turned, startled, and stepped aside from the flow of people.

"What’s the matter?" Matsushita asked.

"I need to talk to you about something."

"Ah, but..." Matsushita trailed off as the station’s announcement for the next Shinkansen departure echoed through the air.

"Please don’t go," Kadowaki pleaded.

Matsushita hesitated, clearly conflicted, before apologizing softly and disappearing into the crowd. Stunned, Kadowaki stood motionless, his heart sinking.

But then he saw Matsushita returning through the throng. Relief flooded him.

"I refunded my ticket," Matsushita murmured as he stood before Kadowaki.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

"Where should we talk?" Matsushita asked, and Kadowaki invited him to his apartment. The room, where he had been living for the past three months after spending a month in the company dormitory post-graduation, still didn’t feel like his own—it was just a place to return to and sleep.

When Matsushita entered, his eyes fell on the refrigerator he had given to Kadowaki. "You’re using it," he said with a nostalgic smile.

Matsushita knelt formally in front of the low table in the living room. It felt surreal to have the person who once occupied his thoughts so much, someone who had become just a distant memory until yesterday, sitting right there in front of him.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Matsushita asked.

Kadowaki had stopped him, claiming he needed advice, but that was just an excuse to keep him there. After Matsushita had gone so far as to refund his train ticket, Kadowaki couldn’t admit that he didn’t have a real reason.

"…I feel like this company isn’t a good fit for me," Kadowaki said, picking any dissatisfaction that came to mind.

"You’re working at DOCC, right?"

"Yes."

Complaining about his job after less than six months must make him seem spoiled, Kadowaki thought. To Matsushita, he must look like nothing more than a self-centered former student.

"Are you thinking of quitting and finding a new job?"

What did Kadowaki really want to do? If he said, "I’ll stick it out," the very reason he had stopped Matsushita would disappear.

"…Yes, ideally."

Matsushita pondered for a moment.

"DOCC is a major company. The places I could introduce you to—publishers that handle mathematics books or programming firms—would likely offer worse pay and conditions than DOCC."

"I see…"

"If you can accept less favorable terms, I can reach out to some acquaintances."

A serious response to a trivial complaint. Kadowaki found himself unable to answer. Matsushita, perhaps interpreting the silence as discontent, looked down awkwardly and let his gaze wander around the room.

"…You keep your place very tidy," Matsushita remarked. Without a response, it felt like he was talking to himself.

"Do you have someone who cleans for you?"

At work, one of Kadowaki’s female colleagues had taken a liking to him. She was cute, and he didn’t mind the attention, but he couldn’t bring himself to start a relationship or take it further. Even after severing ties with Matsushita, he still felt an odd deference toward him. Yet the probing tone of Matsushita’s question annoyed him.

Kadowaki didn’t yell but retaliated in his own chilly way.

"My girlfriend keeps it clean for me. It’s a big help."

Matsushita’s expression tightened briefly, though he maintained a polite smile as he replied, "I see."

"And you? Have you found someone you like over there?"

There was a pause.

"…There is someone I’m interested in."

It had been six months since they stopped seeing each other—a short time but not insignificant. Their own relationship had only lasted about half a year. The mention of some faceless "someone" irritated Kadowaki, leaving him stewing in emotions he couldn’t control.

"That’s a lie," Matsushita suddenly blurted.

Kadowaki couldn’t tell what Matsushita was calling a lie.

"Saying there’s someone I’m interested in—it’s a lie. Would you be satisfied if I told you I still love you?"

Matsushita spat the words out, then abruptly stood up.

"I’m leaving. I’ll check with my acquaintances about your job prospects, but don’t get your hopes up."

As Matsushita moved toward the door, Kadowaki rose and grabbed his arm.

"I lied too. I don’t have a girlfriend."

Matsushita squinted slightly with one eye, his glasses shifting ever so slightly.

"I'm holding you back?" Matsushita's voice was steady, yet probing.

"It's because you started asking strange questions..." Kadowaki muttered defensively.

"Even so, there's no need to lie, is there?"

Matsushita's words struck true, leaving Kadowaki unable to respond. Matsushita shook his head slightly.

"I don't understand what you're thinking."

"Neither do I understand you," Kadowaki shot back.

Was it the alcohol still lingering in his system? His head began to pound.

"I don't know if I ever liked you. I don't know if I like you now. No matter how much I think about it, I can't figure it out."

The room fell into a heavy silence after his outburst.

"I can't figure it out with my head, so I don't know what to do."

He knew he was speaking nonsense, spouting chaotic thoughts that even he couldn't piece together. Matsushita must find him insufferable—stopped as he was on his way out, forced to endure Kadowaki's incoherent complaints. Why was he doing this? Why could he let Mikasa leave because of work tomorrow, but stop Matsushita, make him refund his ticket, and act so selfishly? Hadn't he once been more considerate?

Only now did it dawn on Kadowaki—he had been leaning on this older man, taking advantage of his kindness. The realization sent a shiver down his spine. A hand brushed lightly against his shoulder, and just knowing it was Matsushita's made his skin tingle. The simple touch, even through fabric, felt like an electric current running through him.

When Kadowaki looked up, his gaze met Matsushita's. He wanted to kiss him but hesitated; he'd rarely initiated before and felt unsure how to proceed. Still, he leaned in, placing his lips tentatively on Matsushita's.

From that moment, words ceased to matter. Matsushita seized the offered kiss, pulling Kadowaki into an embrace so tight it almost hurt. The familiar scent of Matsushita's neck filled Kadowaki's senses, and he felt tears threatening to spill.

He didn't resist—not when Matsushita touched him, not when his inner thighs were grazed and he became erect. The moment Matsushita took him in hand, he climaxed almost instantly. Every touch seemed to set his body alight, oversensitive to the point of tears. He recalled Yoshimoto's words: "It's entirely different."

So this was what Yoshimoto meant. If this was love, then Kadowaki's body had come to know it deeply and unmistakably. As Matsushita's lips moved along his neck, sucking hard enough to sting, the pain transformed into pleasure simply because it was Matsushita causing it.

"This feels like a dream," Matsushita whispered, voice laced with uncertainty. "When I wake up, I feel like you'll dismiss this as a moment of confusion."

Kadowaki wrapped his arms gently around Matsushita's head, as if to reassure him. He wanted to teach Matsushita that such doubts could be banished entirely. Then, Matsushita's fingers traced down to the space between Kadowaki's thighs, lightly pressing against that area.

Before Kadowaki could mentally prepare, Matsushita's fingers slipped inside, eliciting a soft gasp. Though Matsushita had hesitated at first, once he began, it was as though he had discovered a new playground, exploring and invading the tight space with fervor.

"Ah... ah..." Kadowaki's knees trembled, his hips losing strength. Two fingers moved in and out rhythmically, making the sensation burn hot, and just as Kadowaki began to adjust to the strange, almost pleasant discomfort, the fingers were withdrawn.

A brief sigh of relief was quickly cut short as something larger replaced them. Slowly rocked, Kadowaki wrapped his arms around Matsushita's back, seeking his lips.

For the first time, being connected to another person felt profoundly joyful. As his body was thrust and shaken, his lower half grew numb, and eventually, Kadowaki slipped into unconsciousness, lulled into sleep by exhaustion.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

A gentle shake on the shoulder brought him back to awareness. As Kadowaki opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Matsushita’s worried face.

"Are you okay?"

Fingers stroked through his hair repeatedly, the tenderness of the gesture making Kadowaki feel both comforted and inexplicably happy. Like a drowsy cat, he let his eyes drift shut once more.

“I shouldn’t have done this, should I?”

The quiet confession made him open his eyes again. Matsushita sat slumped on the edge of the bed, his face shadowed with regret. Fighting off the heaviness in his limbs, Kadowaki propped himself up halfway. His hips still held the phantom sensation of Matsushita’s presence.

There was a bleakness in Matsushita’s expression that Kadowaki didn’t understand, but he instinctively wanted to soothe it. As he leaned closer, Matsushita gently pushed him away by the shoulders, creating a small but palpable distance between them. That gap, however slight, felt jarring.

“I love you,” Matsushita said, his voice low but clear. “I love you so much I wanted to take you with me to Kobe. But in the end, I realized that breaking up was the right decision. I’ve come to understand that you’re better off without me. You have another life waiting for you—a better one.”

Kadowaki listened, stunned, as Matsushita spoke. Breaking up was the right decision, he said. Their days of separation had been the right answer, he said. The sweet traces of Matsushita on his skin felt like they were swept away by a cold wind, leaving nothing but an unbearable chill in their wake.

He lowered his gaze to his trembling fingers. Even as his mind tried to process Matsushita’s words, he couldn’t move past that one phrase: breaking up was the right decision. It echoed endlessly in his head, blotting out all other thoughts. His mind was shrouded in darkness, like a curtain had dropped, and he could see nothing beyond it. He didn’t even understand his own feelings.

He had finally found the answer—that he loved Matsushita—and yet, the rejection came immediately after. If only he had gone to Kobe with him six months ago when Matsushita had asked, maybe he wouldn’t have to hear such heart-shattering words now. But no amount of regret could turn back time or change who he was back then.

Kadowaki looked at Matsushita’s face. He wasn’t young, nor could he be called handsome. Yet, why was it this man? The more he stared, the tighter the ache in his chest grew. Unable to bear it any longer, Kadowaki threw himself into Matsushita’s arms, overcome by a fierce desperation. Ignoring Matsushita’s hesitation, he kissed him roughly, almost violently.

Their breaths mingled as the kiss deepened. Saliva stretched in thin strands between them, which Kadowaki wiped away with his finger. Matsushita remained still, and Kadowaki slowly bent down, burying his face in Matsushita’s groin. He had never done this before—he’d only been on the receiving end. Matsushita had never forced him, and Kadowaki had never wanted to. Occasionally, Matsushita would absentmindedly explore the inside of his mouth with his fingers, but...

Matsushita startled and tried to push him away, but Kadowaki clung to him stubbornly. By the time the hardness in Matsushita’s body became undeniable, his resistance had melted away. Driven by nothing but affection, Kadowaki continued to tend to him, even when everything reached its peak. He swallowed awkwardly, choking slightly on the bitter taste that lingered in his mouth.

As he sat back, coughing faintly, he couldn’t help but think that something about what he’d done—what he’d become—felt strange, as if he were no longer entirely himself.

"I love you," Kadowaki murmured softly.

"If I add that to the equation, would it change your conclusion?"

Matsushita looked at him, bewildered, as if struggling to comprehend.

“Naofumi,” Matsushita said softly, his voice full of hesitation.

Was it selfish to want to be with the person he loved this much? If they couldn’t stay together... just imagining it made Kadowaki feel like he was losing his mind. His chest tightened unbearably at the thought.

He had been fine on his own all this time. But now, the thought of being alone felt unbearable. The idea of being apart from Matsushita made him want to scream.

For this man, he might truly be willing to die. There were many things Kadowaki valued: his parents, his close friends. If he ever sacrificed himself for someone he loved, it would be for their sake. But Matsushita was different. If he ever died because of Matsushita, it wouldn’t be for Matsushita’s benefit—it would be for his own.

"If I can’t be with you, I’d rather die."

He meant it. He truly meant it. Kadowaki pressed his face against Matsushita’s chest, overwhelmed by sadness and pain. Tears welled up and spilled over. Matsushita hesitated but then began to stroke Kadowaki’s head, eventually pulling him into a tight embrace.

But it wasn’t enough. No matter how tightly Matsushita held him, Kadowaki wanted more—so much more. The tears wouldn’t stop falling.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The moving boxes were few. Kadowaki had just one garment case of clothes, left behind the furniture his younger brother would use, and discarded most of the rest. The only things he couldn’t bring himself to part with were his books and the stamp collection files.

“Still…”

On Sunday, Mikasa, drenched in sweat from helping dismantle the bookshelves, muttered idly.

“This is awfully sudden. You call three days ago to say you quit your job, and now you’re moving? I haven’t even had time to prepare myself!”

A swift fist came flying, making a loud thud as Mikasa let out a yelp.

“What do you need to prepare for? Can’t you just be happy for him?”

Yoshimoto crossed his arms, glaring at Mikasa, while Kadowaki couldn’t help but chuckle at the exchange.

“But what am I supposed to do when we fight? Who’s going to listen to me then?”

Mikasa’s plaintive tone was met with Yoshimoto raising his fist again. Sensing the danger, Mikasa fled toward the front door.

“I’ll go grab something to drink!”

Watching Mikasa retreat, Yoshimoto sighed, placing his hands on his hips.

“Why is he always like that? Seriously…”

He wiped his forehead with a towel, rubbing the sweat away.

“When you told me you were going to grad school, I thought, ‘Yeah, that checks out.’ People don’t stick with things they don’t love. But hearing it’s in Kobe was a surprise.”

“Grad school is part of it, but…”

“Is there another reason you’re heading to Kansai?” Yoshimoto tilted his head.

“I’m going to be with the man I love.”

Yoshimoto froze, his face a mix of shock and disbelief.

“There’s someone I care about—he’s a professor at a university in Kobe. I’m going to him.”

Yoshimoto’s lips twitched as if suppressing something.

“I never heard about that.”

“I hadn’t told you.”

His expression quickly darkened. Tossing the towel onto the floor, Yoshimoto strode toward the front door and collided with Mikasa on his way out.

“Huh, Satoshi?”

As Yoshimoto dashed off, Mikasa tilted his head in confusion.

“What’s he so mad about? Strange guy.”

“I made him angry.”

Mikasa laughed.

“You, making someone angry? That’s rare. Stirring people up is more my thing.”

“I told him I’m moving to Kobe to follow the man I love, and he stormed out.”

Mikasa turned back, his expression blank with surprise.

“Wait, whose story is this?”

“Mine.”

“What the hell! You’ve never mentioned that before.”

“This is the first time I’ve said it.”

Mikasa pretended to think for a moment before offering Kadowaki a canned coffee.

“So, it’s like an ‘escape for love’ thing?”

Kadowaki laughed.

“It’s not escaping. I’m chasing him.”

“Got it.”

The light streaming in through the window was blinding; the curtains had already been taken down. Mikasa stretched out his legs in front of him, letting them fall with a thud.

“That guy really cares about you. It probably hurt that you didn’t share it with him.”

“I know, and I feel bad about it. But I just couldn’t bring myself to say it…”

“I get it. You’re the type to keep things to yourself. Not like me and Yoshimoto, who talk it all out to let off steam.”

Mikasa leaned forward to peer into Kadowaki’s face.

“But being with the one you love makes everything fun, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Good luck. Moving to a new place isn’t easy, but you’ll be fine.”

Mikasa gave Kadowaki a big grin and clapped him firmly on the shoulder.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

In the soft moonlight streaming through the window, Kadowaki sat with his back against the wall, holding a cell phone pressed to his ear.

“I’m scheduled to arrive tomorrow afternoon, as planned.”

A voice on the other end offered to come meet him.

“You have a class, don’t you? I already know where your apartment is, and I have the key, so I’ll be fine. If I get completely lost, I’ll just grab a taxi.”

The concern on the other end didn’t waver.

“I’ve sorted out my things, and surprisingly, I don’t have much to bring. It should all fit easily. It’s the west room, right? Would it be okay if I started organizing when I get there?”

Shifting his crossed legs, Kadowaki smiled softly, still holding the phone to his ear.

“It’s fine, really. Why do you sound so unsure? I’m definitely coming. I even quit my job for this. Do you still not believe it?”

He adjusted his grip on the phone gently.

“Even now, I wish I could see you.”

He hoped his feelings would come across. Even though he knew they’d be together starting tomorrow, the loneliness he felt in this moment was something he wanted to convey.

“I love you,” he said, addressing the worried voice.

“I love you. So much that I want to kiss you right now.”

After trading lighthearted words, they hung up. The instant the call ended, he found himself already longing to hear the voice again. But he couldn’t call back, and the frustration of it left him squirming alone.

In the starkly empty room he would leave behind tomorrow, Kadowaki closed his eyes, overwhelmed by a bittersweet mix of loneliness and happiness.

Previous TOC Next