About Love: Chapter 9

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Sasagawa drank the sake Asaka had brought, little by little, like a small animal. His sobs came in hiccups, tears still falling, yet his blinks grew slower and heavier with drowsiness. Eventually, his eyes closed completely, and he stopped moving.

Asaka walked silently to the bedroom, picked up a blanket, and returned to the living room. He draped it over Sasagawa’s body to keep him from catching a cold, then adjusted the heater’s settings slightly higher.

He noticed that the man, now asleep on the floor, was still clutching his empty glass. Asaka let out a small, wry smile. Crawling closer, he carefully pried the glass from Sasagawa’s hand.

Tear tracks stained his cheeks, and his eyelids were swollen and red from crying too much. It was both ridiculous and pitiful—an absurdly unfortunate man. Even if he hadn’t expected such a cruel request, he must have known there would be some pain in choosing the woman he loved. In the end, it was his own doing. And yet… the fact that he couldn’t simply accept that and move on was what made him truly unfortunate.

Gazing at Sasagawa’s face, Asaka recalled his own past relationships. The girl he had dated in university had broken up with him within three months of graduating. He had thrown himself into his part-time job at Dragée, drowning in too many things to learn, too much work to do, and he hadn't been able to give her the attention she needed. In the end, she had accused him—"You don’t really care about me, do you?"

That had never been true. But the fact remained that, at the time, his job had outweighed the needs of his lonely girlfriend.

After that, he hadn’t dated anyone. Weekends were never guaranteed off, and if a problem arose, any promise he had made could be canceled on the spot. Maybe, just as Sasagawa had wished for a girl like Asaka, Asaka himself would have done better with someone like Sasagawa. Someone who wouldn’t make selfish demands, who was thoughtful and considerate, who listened, who simply felt safe to be around.

Asaka stared at the sleeping man’s face. Thin lips, a small forehead, unexpectedly long eyelashes... He wasn’t the type to be called handsome, but Asaka realized he liked Sasagawa’s face.

The red lips parted slightly, rising and falling with slow, deep breaths. The more he watched, the more he felt an urge to touch them.

The fact that Sasagawa was asleep gave Asaka a strange sense of security. Without hesitation, he reached out, fingertips hovering just above the lips. A soft breath tickled his skin.

When he finally brushed against them, they were warm and dry.

What am I even doing?

The thought surfaced in his mind just as Sasagawa’s lips parted—so naturally, so effortlessly, as if taking in a bite of food. Before Asaka could react, his fingertip was drawn into the wet heat of Sasagawa’s mouth.

Startled by the slick, warm sensation, he hastily pulled his hand away.

Sasagawa’s eyes remained closed, his tongue slowly running over his lips before retreating back inside.

He must be dreaming about eating something.

Yet, the lingering dampness on Asaka’s fingertip brought back a sensation he hadn’t felt in a long time—something raw, something physical.

The heat stirring inside him left Asaka bewildered.

He hadn’t had sex in quite some time, but he hadn’t thought he was so starved for touch that he’d react to a man.

Letting out a deep sigh, he pressed a hand to his forehead, distancing himself from Sasagawa and sinking onto the sofa.

He truly hoped this man—flawed, but sincere and earnest—would find happiness soon.

At the same time, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering.

What kind of sex does he have?

:-::-:

The cherry blossom buds along the river Asaka passed on his commute were beginning to swell little by little. With the arrival of plum blossom season, the need for winter coats was gradually fading. The spring wedding season had begun, and Asaka was caught in the whirlwind of its busiest period.

While walking through the city during a midday meeting with a floral coordinator, he noticed an unusual number of teenage groups in the streets. It reminded him of himself right after graduating high school. Compared to then, working with a clear purpose now was far more enjoyable, far more fulfilling.

When he mentioned this, Sasagawa gave him a resigned, almost dejected look and chuckled. He said he hadn't changed at all—only grown older. It suddenly hit Asaka that Sasagawa was turning thirty this year.

Now, Sasagawa was sitting on the floor, leaning against the sofa, drinking a beer. The red handprint on his cheek was stark and fresh. Every time Asaka saw it, a gnawing sense of guilt twisted inside him.

He had finished work and taken the train at 10 PM. But instead of heading home, he got off three stations early, entered the familiar apartment complex near the station, and rang the intercom. The door opened carelessly, without so much as checking who was outside.

The man who greeted him had a badly swollen right cheek.

Sasagawa had gone on a dinner date with a woman Asaka had introduced him to earlier that evening. Expecting to hear how it went, Asaka instead found himself staring, mouth agape, at the visible mark on the man’s face.

Sasagawa must have noticed his gaze because he gave a wry smile.

"What happened?" Asaka asked.

"I tripped," Sasagawa replied unconvincingly.

"How does someone trip and land a perfect handprint on their face?"

When he pressed further, Sasagawa fell silent.

"Who hit you?"

After a long moment, Sasagawa finally spoke.

"She didn’t know I was married. She must have felt like she was being set up for an affair."

Asaka finally realized his mistake. He had assumed that if he introduced Sasagawa to a few women, things would naturally work out with one of them. He had casually presented Sasagawa as single, never considering how that would play out.

"I'm sorry. This is my fault—I should’ve told her properly…"

"You don't have to apologize, Asaka-san," Sasagawa reassured him.

Even so, his swollen cheek was hard to look at. Earlier, when Asaka had invited him to meet at Ruri-iro, Sasagawa had gently declined, saying he preferred to go home. Now, Asaka understood why.

"Just having the opportunity was enough to make me happy," Sasagawa said, smiling as if the whole incident didn’t bother him.

Something twisted painfully in Asaka’s chest. Without a word, he marched into Sasagawa’s kitchen, filled a plastic bag with ice, tied it shut, and wrapped it in a towel. Then he returned to the living room and handed it over.

"It might be cold, but this’ll help the swelling go down faster."

Sasagawa accepted it gratefully. "Thank you," he said, genuinely appreciative.

The simple gratitude made Asaka even more uncomfortable.

"You're practically single anyway, aren’t you? Maybe next time, you just… don’t mention that you’re married."

Sasagawa lowered his gaze, pressing the ice pack against his cheek.

"I appreciate the thought, Asaka-san," he said softly. "But that would mean deceiving the other person. I think… I’m okay being alone for a little while longer."

He was taking things far more seriously than Asaka had realized. This wasn’t just a casual attempt to move on—he wasn’t approaching it half-heartedly.

Even if Sasagawa did start a relationship under false pretenses, the truth would eventually come out. That wouldn’t solve anything.

Asaka had only wanted to find someone to be by Sasagawa’s side. Now, for the first time, he truly regretted how carelessly he had gone about it.

"Please, don’t worry about what happened," Sasagawa said. "Even without that, the conversation didn’t really flow between us. I don’t think we were ever meant to get along."

The more he tried to reassure him, the worse Asaka’s guilt became.

"By the way, there was something I wanted to give you."

Sasagawa quickly left the living room and returned with a flyer in hand.

"It looks like there’s going to be a special Andy Warhol exhibition at the department store. Did you know about it? I thought you might be interested."

"Oh, you’re right," Asaka murmured, taking the flyer.

"Nice. Even if it’s not work-related, I might go."

Sasagawa leaned over to glance at the flyer again.

"I’ve seen this Marilyn Monroe one before."

"Yeah, it’s pretty famous. I love this kind of pop-art style—it’s colorful, almost toy-like. Classic paintings are great, but I like how this kind of work is just fun to look at."

"If you decide on a time to go and I happen to be free, please invite me," Sasagawa said.

"Oh, sure," Asaka replied, a bit surprised. Warhol didn’t seem like Sasagawa’s type—did he actually want to see the exhibition? Asaka tilted his head, and Sasagawa did the same, as if mirroring him.

"One more thing—I meant to tell you this earlier," Sasagawa continued. "One of the women at my office recommended a great restaurant. Since it was nearby, I went there for lunch today, and it was really good. The place is spacious, with a nice atmosphere. You mentioned that more people are having wedding receptions at restaurants these days, so I thought it might be worth checking out."

Asaka’s instincts immediately sharpened.

"Do you remember the name?"

"It’s called Belzone. It’s near Gozu Station. Apparently, it just opened recently."

In his line of work, Asaka always kept track of new restaurants, but that name wasn’t on his list.

"The woman who recommended it said it’s a hidden gem. The food was great, but what really impressed me was the cake I had for dessert. Actually, I bought some. Want to try it together? Oh, but you haven’t had dinner yet, have you?"

At the mention of food, Asaka suddenly realized how hungry he was.

"I’ll just grab something from the convenience store," he said, reaching for his wallet.

Before he could stand, Sasagawa stopped him.

"I already bought some food. If you don’t mind, you can have some of that instead."

Sasagawa walked into the kitchen and returned with an entire convenience store bag.

"I didn’t eat either. I figured you might not have, so I bought extra just in case."

"I thought you went out to eat with her?"

"I got dumped right before we even stepped inside the restaurant," Sasagawa said matter-of-factly, pulling out rice balls and a salad from the bag.

"Take whatever you like."

The selection included a lot of Asaka’s favorite items. He wasn’t sure if that was just a coincidence or if Sasagawa had learned his preferences after sharing so many late-night convenience store dinners together. The thought made him chuckle.

It was ridiculous—two grown men sitting on the floor, eating cheap convenience store food—but somehow, Asaka found the casual, unpretentious atmosphere enjoyable.

Sasagawa often bought rice balls but was strangely bad at peeling the packaging. Despite following the instructions, he always seemed to mess up the seaweed wrapping. He wasn’t particularly dexterous, and tonight was no exception—he struggled with the plastic, fumbling with the wrapper.

Noticing Asaka laughing at him, Sasagawa ducked his head, looking embarrassed.

"Recently..."

Amid their cheap meal, Sasagawa suddenly began to speak.

"I’ve started finding a lot of things enjoyable," Sasagawa said. "I think it’s because I finally told Haruka clearly that I couldn’t go through with having a child and was able to express my real feelings. We actually talked things through, and I guess that helped me move on, at least to some extent."

About a week after he had gotten drunk over Haruka’s request for artificial insemination, Sasagawa had met with her to talk. In the end, they decided to divorce. She even apologized to me, Sasagawa had told Asaka with a wry smile. However, since it hadn’t even been two years since they were married, neither of their families would accept such a sudden divorce. Until Sasagawa found someone else, they had agreed to keep their marriage on paper.

"I did get rejected by the woman you introduced me to," Sasagawa continued, "but even that was kind of amusing in its own way. I kept wondering—what do people think when they see a guy walking around with a swollen face? That I got dumped? That I got into a fight? It was interesting to think about."

He leaned forward slightly.

"I’ve started noticing a lot of things I never would have before. For example, that flyer I gave you—I wouldn’t have even picked it up in the past. Or restaurants—before, I wasn’t interested, but now, when I hear about a good place, I want to check it out for myself. My world has gotten so much bigger."

Sasagawa looked genuinely happy as he spoke.

"If I hadn’t reconnected with you, Asaka, I probably wouldn’t have been able to enjoy all these things. I don’t have any real hobbies, but this… this feels like something I can keep doing."

Asaka felt a faint unease. Everything Sasagawa mentioned was tied to him.

"Wait… you’re not doing all this for me, are you?"

Sasagawa shook his head.

"It’s nothing that grand. If anything, I’m just using you as an excuse to enjoy myself. That’s fair, right? It’s a cheap, easy hobby."

Asaka thought it really was a small, harmless hobby. But realizing just how much he had influenced Sasagawa left him feeling a little afraid. Picking up flyers, scouting restaurants—he was doing all these things with Asaka in mind. But at least Sasagawa seemed aware of it himself.

If keeping busy with Asaka helped him fill the void left by his failed marriage, then maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

The much-talked-about cake from the restaurant turned out to be just as delicious as the rumors claimed. If the food was even half as good, the place had real potential. They agreed to go together for a meal soon.

And naturally, after dinner, drinks followed. Sasagawa sipped his favorite sweet sake in small, measured gulps. At first, he was hesitant, mindful that it wasn’t his own alcohol. But as the relaxed atmosphere of home settled over them, and with the safety of knowing he could stay the night if he got too drunk, he eventually let loose, forgetting to pace himself.

"That’s why…" Asaka slurred, waving his cup. "I don’t think academic background matters for a bridal coordinator!"

He had abandoned all self-restraint, venting every frustration to the man across from him.

"You see, my boss—this is her favorite saying—she always tells us that the most important thing for a coordinator is ‘passion.’ But there’s this new girl at work, and all she ever talks about is what university she went to, or how she used to work at some elite company. It just… it kills the mood, you know? I mean, honestly, it pisses me off."

Even in his drunken haze, Asaka could tell he was slurring his words. Meanwhile, Sasagawa sat across from him, smiling.

"Why are you laughing…?"

Even as Asaka grumbled in irritation, Sasagawa kept on smiling.

Sasagawa watched Asaka with a soft gaze, his expression unexpectedly warm.

"I was just thinking… you're kind of cute," he said, his voice light with amusement.

"Cute?" Asaka cocked his head, then exaggerated the movement with a playful, almost flirtatious tilt. Sasagawa burst into laughter.

"Not like that. You're serious about your work, always giving it your all. It's just… watching you makes me feel at ease."

Still smiling, Sasagawa beckoned with a gentle wave of his fingers. Drawn in by the gesture, Asaka moved closer, only to have his head patted in a way that felt oddly nostalgic, like a child being praised. It had been a long time since anyone had done that. The sensation was pleasant, comforting even, and Asaka narrowed his eyes like a cat basking in affection.

"You don’t need to change, Asaka. I think you’re already the best wedding coordinator in the world, so there’s no need to listen to what anyone else says."

The words, coupled with the warmth of being indulged, made something in Asaka soften. Without thinking, he rested his cheek against Sasagawa’s lap, giving in to the drowsiness pulling at him.



"Getting sleepy?" Sasagawa asked.

"Yeah..."

Even as Asaka responded, he stubbornly refused to move from where he was. Eventually, Sasagawa let out an exasperated sigh and scooped him up, carrying him to the bed.

Too tired to bother changing, Asaka merely tugged off his tie and slipped under the sheets. The comfort of having the bed to himself was short-lived, however. Moments later, Sasagawa—having changed into sleepwear—slid in beside him, making the space suddenly feel cramped.

Annoyed, Asaka kicked out at him.

Sasagawa retaliated with a kick of his own.

What started as childish stubbornness escalated into a full-fledged kicking match, until the blanket slid off the bed entirely. Left sprawled out in a ridiculous tangle of limbs, the two stared at each other—then burst into laughter.

"Enough messing around," Sasagawa said, retrieving the blanket. He switched off the lights, and the room was enveloped in darkness.

Asaka was just about to drift off when a hand touched his shoulder, followed by the sound of his name being called.

"Asaka-san, turn this way."

Rubbing his eyes, Asaka did as he was told, facing Sasagawa.

"What…?"

He thought Sasagawa had something to say, but the man remained silent. He only gazed at Asaka with an intensity that refused to waver.

"I just wanted to see your face," Sasagawa murmured.

"Looking at you… it calms me."

That was fine for Sasagawa, but being stared at so intently made Asaka restless. He blinked several times, shifting under the weight of that gaze. Their faces were close enough that Asaka could feel his breath. Sasagawa's gaze, warm and unwavering, pinned him in place. Slowly, Sasagawa leaned in. The cool touch of lips met his.

It lasted only a moment.

"What was that?"

"A kiss."

Sasagawa stated it as a simple fact, showing no sign of guilt.

"Why did you do that?"

"I wanted to. I was curious what it would feel like."

There was no trace of deception in his voice. Accepting that, Asaka nodded.

"So? How did it feel?"

"A little… my chest feels tight."

Even as he said that, Sasagawa leaned in again, brushing his lips against Asaka’s.

"Why… are you doing it again?"

Sasagawa looked genuinely puzzled.

"I don’t know. I just… want to kiss you."

"But you said it made your chest feel tight."

"It does, but…"

Sasagawa pressed another light kiss against his lips, then another, like a child testing something unfamiliar. The touch was soft, fleeting—similar to the way he had stroked Asaka’s head earlier.

He pulled Asaka closer, shifting the angle each time as their lips met again and again. His fingers curled around Asaka’s head, keeping him near.

Then, as if overwhelmed, Sasagawa wrapped his arms around Asaka and pulled him into his chest. In a barely audible voice, he whispered—

"...What am I supposed to do now?"

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Comments

  1. This is getting so good!! They’re such a good match!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yeah, they seem really compatible, which is great for any relationship. I also love how they each show their care in their own unique way.

      Delete
  2. Ooh, this is getting good

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