About Love: Chapter 24

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In the end, Koenji never came back. Even when closing time arrived, he still hadn’t returned to Dragée.

When Asaka told Kohara that he had told Koenji he wasn’t suited for the job, she only shrugged and said, "It couldn’t be helped."

Asaka stayed late at the office, working through upcoming tasks, when Kohara spoke up. "Don’t wait around anymore. Just go home."

"If he’s not coming back, there’s nothing you can do. His phone isn’t connecting either, right?"

"I’m sorry… I went too far…"

"Don’t worry about it. I’ve been told plenty of times that I wasn’t suited to be a bridal coordinator. But I never gave up. If he quits over this, then that’s all there was to him."

Kohara brushed back a stray lock of hair that had slipped loose from her updo. "Besides, I feel like this was bound to happen sooner or later. He likes talking to people, and he has a gentle demeanor, but he lacks the attention to detail. Whether it’s with clients or with us."

Pushed out of the office by Kohara, Asaka grabbed Koenji’s bag and left Dragée. He boarded a train, heading in the opposite direction of his usual route home. He had only been there once, but he managed to find Koenji’s apartment easily enough.

Looking up from the road, he could see the lights were on. But when he rang the intercom, no one answered. Not a single sound came from inside.

Asaka couldn’t help but picture Koenji sitting in a corner of the room, holding his breath.

He left a note wedged in the door and handed Koenji’s bag to the building’s manager before heading home.

As always, he bought a convenience store bento, ate it with a beer in his apartment. He had the TV on, but at some point, the program had changed without him noticing. He was watching, but not really seeing anything.

He hadn’t said anything wrong.

It was true that Koenji was self-centered. It was true that because of that, he had easily discarded the client’s wishes. Even if it wasn’t intentional, a self-centered mindset had no place in this job.

But maybe saying he wasn’t suited to be a bridal coordinator had been too much.

Kohara had told him not to worry about it, but still…

His appetite was gone. Half of the bento was left untouched. But beer was different—he finished his second can. Normally, this much would get him tipsy, but tonight, it did nothing.

He was getting frustrated—at his inability to get drunk, at his mind refusing to stop replaying everything over and over again.

Words, once spoken, couldn’t be taken back. And no matter how much he thought about it, there was nothing he could do now.

He didn’t want to be alone. Maybe he should go to a bar. But if he drank in this state, he might cause trouble for someone.

He wanted to talk to someone. He wanted someone to listen to him. To tell him what to do about Koenji, to tell him whether he’d handled things the right way.

But who would listen to something this trivial? A face surfaced in his mind—a tall man with glasses.

Someone he could say anything to. Someone solid, reliable.

He knew the truth. He had been venting to Sasagawa to relieve stress.

No matter how long and tedious the story, Sasagawa would always listen, always nod and say, "Yeah, yeah," at the right moments, always give an answer that made sense.

He wanted to talk to him.

But their relationship was already hanging by a thread. How could he ask Sasagawa to listen to his complaints now?

Before anything else, he had to settle things between them. Asaka pulled out his phone and checked the time.

11:00 PM.

In one more hour, it would be the tenth day since he had told Sasagawa he would call.

These ten days of distance had meant nothing when it came to "thinking things over." The outcome had already been decided.

All time had done was help him calm down.

Asaka closed his phone, gripping it tightly in both hands. He wanted to hear Sasagawa’s voice. But he didn’t want to have that conversation.

He didn’t want to hear the reasons why he was being abandoned. But tomorrow night, they would have to talk.

None of that mattered right now.

Right now, he just wanted to hear his voice. Just one word—just one—would be enough. If he could hear that, maybe this unbearable, aimless feeling would ease, even just a little.

Asaka flipped open his phone and scrolled through his contacts, searching for Sasagawa’s number. After hesitating for what felt like forever, he finally pressed the call button.

The ringing tone echoed in his ear.

If Sasagawa answered, Asaka would listen to his first word—just the first word—and then hang up. That way, he’d get to hear his voice without having to talk about breaking up. He really just wanted to hear him. Just one word...

Ten rings felt like an eternity. Finally, there was a sign of connection, and Asaka clenched his phone tightly.

"Hello, who is this?"

A woman’s voice.

For a second, he thought he had dialed the wrong number. But the name displayed on the screen was unmistakable—Sasagawa Yoshirou.

"Who is this?"

She asked again. Asaka swallowed hard, his grip tightening around his phone.

"Um… is this… Sasagawa-san’s phone?"

His tongue felt heavy, clumsy.

"Yes, it is."

"Uh… is Sasagawa-san…?"

"He’s in the bath right now. He should be out soon, though…"

The owner of the earring he had found in the bathroom—it was probably this woman. A man and a woman, alone together, at this hour—just imagining what was happening made Asaka feel sick.

"If it’s urgent, I can let him know—"

"It’s not urgent. Um… are you… Sasagawa-san’s girlfriend?"

"Yes, I am."

Asaka bit down hard, his jaw tightening.

"…Could you give him a message for me? Tell him: 'I won’t be calling tomorrow. This is the last time. Thank you for everything.'"

"He’ll be out soon, though—"

"It’s not worth calling back for. Just tell him."

Asaka turned off his phone.

It was over. He had ended it. It was abrupt. It was miserable. That man was the worst. The absolute worst.

Telling his girlfriend to pass on the message—that was the only way Asaka could get back at him.

Every night, every free moment at work, Sasagawa had occupied his thoughts. He was trapped in this relationship, helplessly bound to it. But Sasagawa… Sasagawa wasn’t.

He said he wanted to see Asaka, that he wanted to explain himself—but behind the scenes, he was already happy with someone new.

More than anger, more than regret, the sadness and emptiness overwhelmed him.

He felt pathetic. He wanted to die.

Not that he was actually considering it. But this feeling in his chest—he just wanted it to go away.

Asaka lay on the floor, staring blankly like a dead fish, when the sound of the doorbell jolted him upright.

It rang again.

Could it be… Sasagawa? But it hadn’t even been thirty minutes since he hung up. Even Sasagawa couldn’t get here that fast.

Besides, he had been with that woman. Still, a tiny spark of hope flared inside him, pushing him to approach the door.

"Who is it?"

His voice trembled as he called out, but there was no reply.

"Do you need something?"

Silence.

Maybe it was just some kids playing a cruel prank. But… what if it really was Sasagawa? Unable to shake the possibility, Asaka left the chain locked and cracked the door open slightly.

A tall figure stood outside. Even though he had expected it, his breath caught in his throat. But the man standing there, his face filled with quiet anguish, wasn’t Sasagawa. It was Koenji—the one who had gone missing since this afternoon.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

They sat across from each other at the small table in silence. He had brought out some coffee for now, but Koenji didn’t touch it.

Would it be better if he started the conversation? But if Koenji had come all the way here in the middle of the night, it meant he had something to say.

So Asaka waited. Still, the silence stretched unbearably long. Losing patience, Asaka finally spoke up.

"You came to talk to me, didn’t you?"

Koenji flinched.

"Sorry for coming so late… I tried calling your cell and home phone, but I couldn’t get through…"

After calling Sasagawa, Asaka had not only turned off his phone but also unplugged the landline.

"But… I really needed to talk to you, Asaka-san…"

Koenji lifted his face.

"I’ve been thinking about it all day since then. Do you really think I’m not cut out to be a bridal coordinator?"

His earnest gaze felt like a tight grip around Asaka’s throat. Koenji wanted him to say, No, you are.

Asaka closed his eyes, thinking carefully before choosing his words.

"Right now, you’re not. But from now on—"

"I understand."

Koenji smiled, though he looked like he was about to cry.

"I’m quitting Dragée."

So Kohara’s maybe had become reality.

"I only said that right now you’re not cut out for it. If you put in the effort—"

"I’ve heard it before, from Enoki-san. You’re not suited for this job. You only think about yourself."

Asaka stayed silent.

"Honestly, it wasn’t what I imagined. There’s so much tedious grunt work. But I convinced my parents, and I liked talking to the clients, so I stuck with it. When Enoki-san left and I got to work under you, I was happy. You gave me responsibility, even with some… unusual clients. But in the end, I kept thinking about how all the little details were such a pain. Maybe this isn’t for me, I thought. And then, Asaka-san, you said the same thing as Enoki-san. And I realized… yeah, I really am no good at this."

"You don’t understand—that’s the problem."

Asaka leaned forward, placing his hands on the table.

"Understanding is what matters. You weren’t aware that you always took the easy way out, that you put yourself first, were you? But now you know. And once you know, you won’t make the same mistakes again. That’s what’s important—not repeating them."

Koenji scratched his head, letting out a dry chuckle.

"I was thinking about it after I got home. If I ever got married… I’d want you to be my coordinator, Asaka-san. Because you really care about your clients. But then I thought… if I wouldn’t want me as my own coordinator, then I knew I had to quit. Besides, you already have someone important to you. The people who get me as their planner would be so unlucky."

"You’re giving me too much credit. I think things are a pain too. There are plenty of times I don’t want to deal with things—"

"But you look like you’re enjoying it, Asaka-san. You’re passionate about it. It’s obvious that you love this job. Me… I want to try, but the hard parts still feel like a hassle."

"Don’t give up over one failure."

"But if I fail, it’s over, isn’t it? Weddings only happen once in a lifetime."

Asaka had no response to that.

"And besides… staying in a job I find frustrating, thinking I’m not suited for it… that sounds exhausting."

Asaka pressed his fingers against his forehead.

Koenji’s eyes were unwavering. His decision wasn’t a fleeting whim. He had been struggling with this for a long time.

"…If you leave Dragée, do you have something else lined up?"

"My friend’s older brother runs a small company. He offered to take me on. I’ll start as a part-timer, and I’ll figure things out from there."

Would quitting be the right choice? Or would pushing through be better?

Asaka thought about it, again and again, but he couldn’t find the answer.

And neither could Koenji.

"I'm handing in my resignation tomorrow. Since you said you had the day off, I thought I might not get to see you again... It was a short time, but I'm sorry for all the trouble I caused."

He bowed deeply.

"You don’t have to make a decision today or tomorrow. Take your time. Think it through. And if, after all that thinking, this is still the conclusion you come to, I won’t say anything."

Koenji gave a tearful smile and bowed once more. A heavy silence settled between them.

Then, the intercom rang again. As if that were a signal, Koenji stood up.

"Sorry for coming so late. I’ll be going now."

Asaka glanced at the clock on the wall. It was nearly 1 a.m. The intercom rang again.

"Someone’s here," Koenji murmured, heading toward the entrance.

It felt like Sasagawa was on the other side of the door. He didn’t want to open it. But he had to let Koenji leave.

"Well then, thank you for everything."

Koenji opened the door.

At that exact moment—"Asaka-san!"

A desperate voice burst into the room. Sasagawa hadn’t expected someone else to be there. He faltered.

"Ah… um…"

Koenji glanced at Sasagawa, his expression unreadable. He didn’t say anything, just gave a small nod before leaving.

Asaka and Sasagawa were left standing there, separated by the half-open door.

Sasagawa wore a shirt and jeans, sandals on his feet. One of his buttons was misaligned, causing the collar to gape open wider than usual. He had rushed over. But the rawness of it all made Asaka feel sick.

"Sorry for coming so late…"

"Go home."

He shut him down instantly.

"I need to talk to you, no matter what."

"I have nothing to say to you. Showing up in the middle of the night like this—it’s insane."

Asaka forced himself to stay calm, to look calm.

"You think I can just accept a message like that and move on? You said you needed time, so I waited ten days. But then you cut off your phone, disconnected your landline—that’s cowardly!"

The word cowardly made his blood boil.

"I said I don’t want to talk. Can’t you tell from the atmosphere alone!?"

"Even if you don’t want to talk, I have something I need to say!"

"Shut up! Do you know what time it is!?"

A deep, angry voice bellowed from the next-door apartment. They couldn’t keep this up in the hallway. With no other choice, Asaka let him inside—but only just past the entrance. He didn’t let Sasagawa take off his shoes.

The moment they were alone in the confined space, the air grew suffocating.

Sasagawa was clearly irritated, but Asaka was the one who wanted to lash out.

Still, the short silence between them seemed to temper Sasagawa’s frustration, if only slightly.

"…Sorry for raising my voice. I know it was wrong to show up this late. But if I didn’t do this, we wouldn’t even be talking right now. You called my place around eleven, didn’t you?"

Asaka didn’t answer. But he remembered the voice that had answered.

"Are you Sasagawa-san’s girlfriend?"

"Yes, I am," the woman had replied.

He hadn’t wanted to remember, but the words replayed anyway.

"Sorry for interrupting something… important."

A flush of guilt spread across Sasagawa’s face. He bit his lip, eyes downcast.

"Yes… I am seeing her."

Even though he already knew, it still hurt. He had held onto the faintest, most irrational hope that it was all a misunderstanding.

Not even a one percent chance. And yet, hearing it straight from Sasagawa’s mouth made it real.

"But that doesn’t mean I want to erase what we had, Asaka-san."

"…What?"

Asaka couldn’t stop the incredulous laugh that slipped out.

Sasagawa’s eyes were serious.

"I want us to stay friends. Not as lovers anymore, but as friends. I’ve been meaning to tell you that, but I just… couldn’t find the right words."

His clenched fists trembled.

He has the nerve to say that—Even now?

Anger swelled inside him.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Why not? It’s no different from before. I still want to see you, to talk to you."

"I'm telling you, it's impossible!"

"Why? We’ve always been able to do it before. Why is it suddenly impossible now?"

"It’s not the same as before. Do I have to spell it out for you?"

"I don’t understand."

He was speechless. Someone, please, throw this unbelievably dense man into the ocean. He meant it.

"I… love you, Sasagawa-san. That’s why I can’t just be your friend while you have a girlfriend. I can’t stand seeing you two together."

Saying it out loud made his own situation feel unbearably pathetic.

"Asaka-san, you’ve been mistaken from the very beginning."

Even after he had said he liked him, Sasagawa still denied it.

"You only think you like me because I approached you with impure intentions. You just got caught up in the moment. What you feel isn’t romantic—it’s friendship. Even if you don’t understand now, with time, you will. I realized that my feelings for you were just friendship. That’s why I decided to date the woman I was introduced to."

"I'm sorry, but I don’t see this as friendship. And I can’t accept you dating someone else."

Sasagawa frowned, his expression troubled. He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up in frustration.

"Are you really that upset about me dating a woman?"

The way he said it, as if Asaka was the problem, irritated him to no end.

"It’s not about being upset. If you were even remotely serious about our relationship, you wouldn’t have done this."

"You’re right. I take responsibility for not being clear about our friendship... If that’s what you want, I’ll break up with her."

"Don’t put this on me!"

He shouted without thinking.

"This is because of you, Asaka-san."

"Then just leave me alone!"

"I can’t. That’s why I’m saying this. If I had to choose, I would choose you. If losing you is the price, I’ll break up with her."

Nothing made sense anymore. He called their relationship friendship—yet when Asaka tried to walk away, he chose him over her.

Wouldn't a normal person prioritize their girlfriend?

What the hell did Sasagawa even want?

Asaka lowered his gaze, shutting his eyes.

Even if they had been two ordinary men in an ordinary relationship, their dynamic had changed the moment Asaka rejected him.

Sasagawa insisted this was friendship, but maybe he had been the one to snap back to reality first.

Maybe, once he realized his feelings were just friendship, he couldn't bring himself to tell Asaka—so instead, he just let things drag on.

While Asaka had steeled himself, determined not to reject him again, Sasagawa had already decided that a relationship between two men was impossible.

That’s why he had stopped kissing him.

That’s why, whenever Asaka tried to initiate something, Sasagawa gently turned him down.

A deep, wet ache spread through his chest.

Even if Sasagawa had come to his senses—

Even if it was a misunderstanding, a joke, or just friendship—

Asaka still loved him.

Even knowing he was the worst kind of man, the kind who couldn’t be honest and ended up stringing two people along—He still loved him.

And when he thought about why Sasagawa hadn’t broken up with him sooner—A single word came to mind.

Weakness.

Was it loneliness? Did he just want someone, anyone, by his side?

Someone to drink with.

Someone to talk to.

Yeah. That was probably it. So then, would he be satisfied if Asaka just stayed?

He looked up at the man in front of him. His chest tightened, a deep, bitter frustration swelling inside him.

An ordinary man.

Plain. Unremarkable. No special talents.

Just someone who was good at listening.

A timid, indecisive man.

What was it about this person that had trapped him so completely? That made him love him so violently?

"It's no use. I can't see you anymore, Sasagawa-san. …No, I don’t want to see you."

"Why not? If we're just good friends, there shouldn't be a problem. Or is there another reason?"

The conversation kept going in circles. One man who wanted to stay friends. One man who couldn’t.

Sasagawa had no intention of understanding how Asaka felt. Of course, he wouldn't.

Because to Sasagawa, this wasn’t love. Because he didn’t even see Asaka as someone who could be rejected.

It was exhausting.

He didn't want to keep having this conversation. How many more times would he have to say I love you—these useless, agonizing words—before this man would finally understand?

It didn’t matter anymore. It didn’t matter if Sasagawa never understood.

Just go home already. But even if he said that, this stubborn man wouldn’t leave until he was satisfied.

Asaka dropped his gaze, staring at Sasagawa’s feet in their sandals.

"If I’m just a friend to you, then I don’t want you at all."

He muttered the words under his breath.

"I haven’t said anything before, but… there’s someone else I’m interested in."

If Sasagawa wouldn’t leave, then fine—he’d just give him a reason.

It was a lie.

A meaningless act of defiance against a man too weak to end things properly, a man who had only clung to him out of loneliness.

The moment he said it, Sasagawa’s entire expression changed. His mouth twisted open, his face crumpling, on the verge of tears. For just a second, the pain in Asaka’s chest eased—only for it to return with a vengeance.

"…I’ve had a feeling for a while now."

Asaka was caught off guard. A feeling? Where the hell did he get that idea?

He had been devoted to Sasagawa and only Sasagawa—so how could he say something like that? Had he never trusted him at all?

The thought made Asaka feel even worse.

"Is it someone I know?"

He didn’t even want to open his mouth. When he stayed silent, Sasagawa asked again. And again. If he didn’t answer, this would go on forever.

It would be easy to say it was someone Sasagawa didn’t know—but something more believable would hit harder.

A face flashed through his mind.The man who had just left—Koenji.

"The guy who was here earlier."

Sasagawa grabbed Asaka’s right arm, his fingers digging in. His eyes went wide with rage as he shoved his face close.

"He’s a man!"

He practically shouted it, loud enough to make Asaka’s ears hurt.

"Keep your voice down. The neighbors are gonna complain again. And what does it matter if he’s a man?"

"How does it not matter?!"

Sasagawa’s desperation was almost pitiful. He had no problem getting himself a girlfriend, yet he couldn’t stand the thought of Asaka being with someone else.

If anything, he was the one who couldn't handle being "just friends." The moment Asaka realized that Sasagawa still had feelings for him—in that way—he wanted to hurt him even more.

"Doesn’t matter either way. I already slept with him."

Sasagawa stood frozen, mouth half-open in shock.

Asaka twisted his arm lightly, and Sasagawa's grip slipped away like nothing.

"I had sex with him."

He twisted the knife deeper. Sasagawa's eyes narrowed, his whole body trembling.

"…Y-You rejected me. Why was he okay? What’s so different between me and him?!"

"I didn’t reject you."

"You did! You pushed me away in the middle of it!"

"Th-That wasn’t because I didn’t want to—!"

Before he could finish, Sasagawa grabbed him again, stepping into the apartment with his sandals still on.

"That broke me, Asaka-san. It was humiliating. I—I thought about dying. You would kiss me, but you wouldn’t go further. That’s when I realized—to you, it was just an extension of friendship. I knew I could never be your lover, but I couldn’t let go either. I spent two days agonizing over it, knowing you'd probably just yell at me—but when I reached out, you were kind. So I thought you forgave me. I told myself I could never do something like that again, because that’s not what you wanted from me. So I decided we should just be friends."

Suddenly, Asaka understood. That was why Sasagawa had stopped kissing him.

Why, no matter how much Asaka tried, he would always gently turn him down. He had mistaken rejection for a boundary.

And Asaka—too uncomfortable to explain what really happened—had let him believe it.

"You don’t even realize your own feelings, Asaka-san. You came to me, but I turned you down, trying so hard to give up on you. And yet… why? Why did it have to be a man?"

Sasagawa shook him so hard his vision blurred.

"How can you have sex with a man?!"

His voice cracked.

"So it wasn’t about gender—it was just me you couldn’t do it with, wasn’t it?"

A single tear slipped from Sasagawa’s eyes.

"I was the one who fell for you first."

The sight of him crying, confessing his love, squeezed Asaka’s heart. But it wasn’t the kind of pain that came from sorrow. It hurt, yes—but it was sweet.

"I’ve always loved you more, Asaka-san. Always, always…"

"And yet, you still went off and dated someone else."

The bitterness spilled from his lips before he could stop it.

Sasagawa looked at him through wet lashes.

"Then what was I supposed to do?"

He shot the question back at him.

"I was obsessed with you, Asaka-san. I couldn’t think of anything else. Even when I knew you didn’t want me that way, that didn’t make me stop wanting you. So where was I supposed to put these feelings? They were just aching, empty, unbearable—so I thought maybe, if I was with someone else, I’d feel a little better."

His jaw quivered violently as he finally let go of Asaka’s shirt. Then, like his body had given out, he collapsed onto the floor of the hallway, clutching his head as he sobbed.

Crying because of some ridiculous misunderstanding, thinking Asaka had slept with someone else.

It was pathetic.

Pathetic, and yet—

Because it was pathetic, something in Asaka’s chest twisted violently.

Slowly, he crouched down. And gently—like he was soothing a trembling puppy—he pressed a kiss to the crown of Sasagawa’s head.

Then another.

And another.

Again and again. Until, little by little, the trembling stopped. Sasagawa’s tear-soaked face lifted. Their eyes met.

When Asaka leaned in, Sasagawa didn’t flinch, didn’t look away.

Even when their lips touched—

Even when Asaka ran his tongue along the seam—

He didn’t react. He just stared, frozen. Asaka took his right hand and pressed it to his own chest, hard.

Even through the fabric, Sasagawa’s palm was warm.

"…Why are you doing this?"

His eyes, red and swollen, searched Asaka’s face.

"I’m inviting you."

"Stop it."

His voice was small, his head drooping.

"Just because I cried… You don’t have to pity me."

Asaka took the hand that had been on his chest and brought it to his lips. He kissed Sasagawa’s palm, trembling as if it were cold.

Not out of pity.

But with love.

With the feeling of love.

"It’s not pity. I love you, Sasagawa-san. I want you. That’s why I’m asking you to stay."

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