The Moon’s Ship That Crosses The Night: Chapter 13

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In the president’s office, Taguchi bowed his head and apologized. The stark whiteness of the bandages wrapped from his elbow to his wrist made his injury look all the more painful.

The previous night, while tending to a drunken relative who had stayed over at his house, Taguchi had fallen in the hallway and struck his right arm hard. When the pain refused to subside, he went to the hospital, where an X-ray revealed a hairline fracture in his forearm. With his dominant hand out of commission, he could no longer help set up the event tents, drive, or even handle sales properly. In short, he was now effectively useless. But no one could blame the injured man himself—it had been an accident, after all. The fact that the branch office had even assigned a dedicated staff member to assist them was already an exceptional level of support.

Taguchi wiped the sweat from his forehead with his left hand. “Hanawa will be there, but Nemoto was only scheduled to help yesterday. The three of you could probably manage the booth on your own, but it’ll be tough.”

Yesterday, aside from the man, there had been five people working the booth at full capacity. Losing two of them at once was a major setback.

“Maybe we should just drop the seasoning sales entirely,” the man suggested, making a bold decision.

“We considered that, but…” Taguchi groaned softly. “We registered our participation with the event organizers as vendors. The main focus is still the sales, so if we switch to just collecting survey data, it might cause problems later. I think it’s best to continue selling, even if only for a short time. If we had someone else to accompany you two in my place, that would be ideal, but…”

It was a holiday weekend event, meaning the company was officially closed, and most employees had already made plans. And given that it was an overnight trip lasting two days, finding someone willing to join at the last minute would be difficult, if not impossible.

After a moment of deliberation, Taguchi lifted his head, as if he had made up his mind. “I’ll go after all. There won’t be much I can do, but I can still use my left arm, so I should be able to help with sales at least.”

“You should probably take it easy,” the man said.

“But, President…”

The man lightly patted Taguchi’s shoulder, cutting off his protest. “How about I go in your place?”

A branch president personally assisting with a field test run by a couple of low-ranking employees from headquarters—it was unheard of. Yesterday, he had helped out, but that had been different. This time, it was clear he was volunteering as an actual working staff member.

“I don’t have any plans during the holiday, so I have the time,” the man added casually.

“S- still, the idea of the president himself…” Taguchi looked utterly distressed. “There’s… well… the matter of propriety, or, um…”

The man chuckled.

“You worry about the most trivial things. Whoever can work should work, right? The event is in Nejiru, isn’t it? I’d also like to visit the Komagi Lighthouse on the way. I haven’t been there in a while. I wouldn’t go out of my way otherwise, so this is the perfect opportunity.”

No one could bring themselves to say, “Please don’t do that.” A heavy silence hung in the room. The man tilted his head slightly.

“Would I be of no use?”

“N-no, it’s not that at all! Right, Kawase-san?”

Thrown into the conversation by Taguchi, Kawase had no choice but to respond with a hesitant, “Uh… yeah. Yes.”

“It’s just an overnight trip, right? I’ll just need a spare shirt and some fresh underwear. I have some at the office; I can bring those along.”

The man then turned to Kawase and Matsushita, smiling pleasantly. “I might not be much help, but I’ll be in your care.”

Just before 2 PM, Hanawa arrived in a light truck loaded with metal tent frames, vinyl sheets, chairs, sales tables, and a company-branded flag. The truck’s remaining space was filled with cartons of seasoning products for sale and sample prototypes, but there wasn’t enough room for the complimentary snack sets, so they had to be crammed into the back seat of the car.

Initially, Kawase assumed they would take two vehicles: the light truck and the company car they had borrowed. However, the man suddenly announced, “I’d rather drive my own car.” So, they transferred the company car’s cargo into his vehicle instead.

Kawase made sure Matsushita was pushed into the man's car, while Kawase settled into the passenger seat of the truck, resigning himself to what was bound to be a long and exhausting trip.

The man's car pulled out first, with the truck following behind. At first, they drove in a neat line, but when the truck got caught at a red light, the man's car disappeared from sight.

Hanawa, who usually worked under Taguchi, seemed to have an interest in city life and eagerly asked about working at headquarters. When he found out that Kawase was the same age, he immediately relaxed and asked, “The women over there must be really beautiful, right?” Kawase smirked and replied, “They are, but dating them is expensive,” which instantly made Hanawa fall silent.

The fiery autumn leaves lining both sides of the road were mesmerizing at first, but soon they blended into an endless green wall. The truck’s audio system was broken, so there was no music or radio to pass the time. Growing bored, Kawase casually asked, “What kind of guy is the branch president?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Hanawa responded with a puzzled look.

“He just seems… a little odd.” Images of the garbage-strewn house and the man pitifully cleaning up flashed through Kawase’s mind.

Hanawa let out a thoughtful hum. “I guess you could say that. I knew the last president too, and he wasn’t nearly as approachable.”

As they drove down the monotonous road, Hanawa tapped the steering wheel rhythmically. “Maybe it’s because he’s a local. He’s easy to talk to. The president lived here until his first year of high school. His family moved to Tokyo because of his parents’ work, but then, a few years ago, his grandmother got sick, so he came back to take care of her.”

Kawase had heard that before, but he feigned surprise and muttered, “Pretty devoted grandson, huh?”

“But actually, before he moved back, he was in an accident and had to stay in the hospital for a few months. By the time he was discharged, his grandmother had already passed away.”

For a moment, time seemed to stop. Then, as if nothing had happened, the world resumed its motion, and Kawase found himself staring at his tightly clenched hands resting on his lap. A traffic accident and a three-month hospitalization… The reason that man couldn’t be there for his dying grandmother… was because of him?

“I respect the president, and a lot of the employees are fans of his. He doesn’t act all high and mighty, and he really looks out for everyone. But…”

Hanawa trailed off.

“But… what?” Kawase pressed.

“Well, how do I put this… He feels kind of… detached?” Hanawa frowned, as if searching for the right words. “No, that’s not it… More like… a hermit?”

“That makes even less sense.” Kawase chuckled dryly.

“Oh! I got it!” Hanawa said, smacking the steering wheel. “He’s like someone who lives off mist. You know, kinda plant-like…”

Kawase nearly laughed at the absurdity. A man who once coerced someone into sex, who lived in a filthy, rat-infested house, being compared to an ascetic who survived on nothing but mist—it was almost laughable. Hanawa had only ever seen the “disguise,” the surface the man maintained. If possible, Kawase wished he could have remained ignorant too.

Just then, his phone vibrated in his pocket. An unknown number.

“…Hello?”

“I figured Hanawa-kun was driving, so I got Matsushita-kun to give me your number…”

At the sound of that voice, Kawase stiffened.

“We’ve reached Uchida Town, but Matsushita-kun isn’t feeling well. We’re taking a break at a roadside station, so could you stop by as well?”

:-::-:

Matsushita slumped on a bench in the outdoor rest area of the roadside station, his head bowed, his broad back devoid of strength.

"It seems my driving was a bit rough, and I ended up making you carsick. I tried to be more careful halfway through, but..." the man explained apologetically.

"Ah, no, it’s not just that. I’ve always been bad with cars..." Matsushita shook his head weakly, his face pale.

"I even bought motion sickness medicine on the way and had you take it, but..." the man looked down at Matsushita, clearly worried.

"If I rest for a while, I should feel better. As long as we get to Nejiru city by the end of the day, there’s no rush." At Hanawa’s suggestion, they decided to take a break for another thirty minutes.

Saying he was "a little hungry," Hanawa headed into the roadside station’s snack corner, while the man wandered around outside. As if waiting for them to be out of earshot, Matsushita suddenly grabbed Kawase’s arm.

"P-please listen to me!" His eyes were brimming with tears.

…A bad feeling stirred in Kawase’s chest.

"That old man is completely nuts! He drove a-a hundred kilometers per hour on regular roads like it was nothing! And when he stopped, it was always this sudden, jerky braking—almost crashed so many times! I—I seriously thought I was gonna die! Then, just when I started feeling sick, he slowed down a little, but his driving was still a nightmare..."

For a moment, Kawase had worried it might have been something worse—something more personal. But if it was just about speed, it was still within tolerable limits.

"Oh, so that’s all it was?" The words slipped out before he could stop them.

"‘That’s all it was’?! Are you kidding me?!" Matsushita’s voice cracked with indignation.

"A-at this rate, I’d need nine lives just to make it through one ride in that car! I’m done! I’ll take a bus or train from here. If there aren’t any, I’ll call a taxi!"

He seemed dead serious about calling one.

"Try offering to drive instead," Kawase suggested, but the man simply shrugged off the idea. "I don’t like being a passenger in someone else’s car."

…In the end, Kawase ended up riding in the man’s car in Matsushita’s place.

As they were leaving the roadside station, they let the small truck go ahead first. Just as the man pulled onto the road, Kawase warned, "Don’t pass the truck."

"I already know you have a lead foot. But right now, you have a passenger. Stick to the speed limit—at most, ten kilometers over it."

The man shrugged. "Got it."

The speed dropped, but the sudden braking didn’t stop, and Kawase was jostled back and forth several times.

"Why don’t you leave more distance between cars and brake gradually?"

"I can’t quite get the timing right," the man answered smoothly.

"You learned this in driving school, didn’t you?"

"That was ages ago. I’ve forgotten all that."

Kawase kept nagging him—"Slow down." "Brake now." Eventually, the braking became a little smoother. The timing was still off, but at least it wasn’t outright dangerous anymore.

They got caught at a red light. The truck ahead of them passed through the crosswalk and disappeared from sight. Since they were headed to the same destination, there was no risk of getting lost, but now that the truck—his only reference point—was gone, Kawase worried the man might start speeding again.

Yet, contrary to his fears, the man obeyed and continued driving at a reasonable pace. Once Kawase no longer had to monitor his driving, silence settled over the car. The man didn’t speak, and neither did Kawase. Soft sunlight filtered in, the car hummed with gentle vibrations.

The monotony of it all.

Even though he’d slept in until nearly noon, drowsiness overcame him, and he let his eyes drift shut.

…He woke with a jolt as the car swayed sharply to the right. The sun had sunk low in the west. They were now driving on a narrow, two-lane road. To the left, the ground had been cut away, exposing a bare, earthen slope. To the right, a guardrail lined the edge—likely a cliff beyond it.

"Sorry for dozing off while you were driving."

"Don't worry about it. You can sleep if you want," the man answered leisurely, his gaze fixed ahead.

"Where are we now?"

"About ten minutes from Komagi Lighthouse, I’d say."

"And… what’s that?"

"There’s a lighthouse by that name up ahead. It’s been thirty years since I last went there. I’ve always wanted to see it again. Once we take a look, we’ll head back the same way."

Kawase recalled that before they had set out, the man had mentioned wanting to visit a particular place. As they drove on for another five minutes, the narrow road gradually widened, and the sea came into view in the distance. The man pulled into a small parking lot overlooking the coastline. It had space for only about ten cars, and two others were already parked there. Beside the lot, a walking trail began, marked by a sign at the entrance that read, "Komagi Cape – 300 meters from here."

The man cut the engine.

"Do you want to step outside too?"

He extended the invitation, but Kawase declined. "I’m fine here."

The man stepped out of the car and slowly made his way into the walking trail. Kawase remained in the passenger seat for a while, typing out emails on his phone, but soon grew bored and decided to step outside as well. He bought a can of coffee from a vending machine and sipped it idly, gazing at the coastline stretching beyond the parking lot. Past a jutting rock formation on the right, he could just barely see the edge of the cape.

"It was beautiful, wasn’t it?"

A young couple, likely in their early twenties, passed by, chatting as they walked. Kawase approached the trailhead and read the explanatory sign next to the entrance. Peering into the path beyond, he saw that while the walkway was maintained, the dense trees on either side obscured the view ahead. Thinking he might catch a glimpse of something interesting if he went just a little further, he stepped past the first thicket, but the path ahead was the same—a seemingly endless stretch of overgrown grass. Turning back now felt like admitting defeat, so he pressed on. After about five minutes, the lighthouse finally came into view.

He noticed a lone figure approaching on the path—a man. Recognizing him, Kawase turned on his heel and headed back. He waited at the car, but ten minutes passed. Then twenty. The man never emerged from the trail entrance. By now, theirs was the only car left in the lot, and the surroundings had grown noticeably dim. No matter how you looked at it, he was taking too long. Unable to sit still any longer, Kawase reentered the walking trail. Since it was a single path, there was no way they could miss each other. They should have met somewhere along the way. But they hadn’t.

Unease crept in as he retraced his steps. That was when he noticed a side path. Its entrance was marked by wooden posts on either side, linked by a chain, with a red sign hanging in between that read, "No Entry." Something about it nagged at him, but for now, he returned to the car. Still, the man hadn’t come back. Once again, Kawase entered the trail, this time stopping in front of the "No Entry" sign. After a moment’s hesitation, he stepped over it.

There was no explanation given for why the path was restricted, which only made it more unsettling. What if the path had collapsed? What if a bear appeared? He tread cautiously, watching his footing more carefully than necessary as he advanced. Despite the overgrown weeds, the path itself seemed intact. Perhaps it had once been part of the official walking route. At one point, he came across a small clearing, where a decrepit pavilion stood with its roof half-collapsed. A bench sat nearby. The ground around it had a pale hue, and as he drew closer, he realized it was covered in clusters of tiny white flowers.

Beyond the pavilion, the path narrowed slightly. Maybe he should turn back. Just to that post up ahead. No—maybe to that tree over there. As he kept making excuses to go just a little farther, the view suddenly opened up. A flat clearing, about five meters across, where the sky and sea spread out in a panoramic view. A cliff. A fence surrounded the area, forming a boundary against the sheer drop.

The man was there. He stood at the edge of the fence, staring out at the sea. The wind howled fiercely, whipping through his white hair, making it dance wildly. Behind Kawase, the trees rustled as the wind swept through the leaves. At the man's feet, the white flowers swayed. The same flowers he had seen by the pavilion. They blanketed nearly the entire clearing.

As Kawase took a step forward, a dry twig snapped beneath his foot. The man, who had been gazing only at the ocean, turned around. His face rippled with something like surprise.

"How long do you plan on staying here?"

The man laughed. It felt like he was being mocked. Kicking aside the flowers clustered at his feet, Kawase stepped closer.

"I don’t want to arrive over there in the middle of the night."

They stood facing each other with about two meters between them.

"I was hoping you’d come."

The smile faded, but the man’s gaze remained fixed on Kawase’s face, as if searching for something.

"I had sex here for the first time when I was fifteen."

The blunt confession made Kawase catch his breath.

"They told me they’d die if I didn’t."

"…What the hell are you saying?"

"Just an old story. It was the same season. Nighttime. Wind was strong. The clouds drifted, the moon peeked through now and then… Flowers… Were they blooming? I don’t remember."

The man’s eyes dropped to the small white flowers at his feet.

"I always think about it. No matter how much I do, no matter how many times I replay that moment, I always make the same choice I did when I was fifteen… Nothing changes."

"I don’t care about your first time."

The man’s shoulders trembled slightly before he hunched forward, letting out a quiet chuckle.

"Yeah… you really are something."

Muttering that, he leaned against the fence. A creak echoed in the wind. Kawase swallowed hard. It felt like he might fall over to the other side at any moment.

"You saw the 'No Entry' sign, didn’t you? Do you know why this place is off-limits?"

Before Kawase could answer, the man continued.

"It’s too secluded. Too out of sight. People keep throwing themselves off."

A powerful gust roared past Kawase’s ear.

"…Is the Product Planning Department fun?"

The man narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah… well, I guess."

"You wanted that position badly enough to sleep your way into it. If it’s not fun, it wouldn’t be worth it, would it?"

The blatant insult left Kawase speechless.

"Honestly, I never thought you’d be of any use there. You were just an overconfident kid. But you kept saying you wanted in, over and over, so I pulled some strings and shoved you in."

The man… had already foreseen everything that would happen to him back then.

"Every time I saw a product you were involved with, I thought, 'He’s managing well enough.' It made me realize people really do grow. After all, you were the kind of kid who couldn’t even apologize after hurting someone."

He had nothing to say. There was no way he could say anything.

"Did you forget? In that back alley, you shoved me into the street. Or was it a punch? Well, either way, it doesn’t matter. Because of that, I got hit by a car. Had a hell of a time, you know."

The sharp screech of brakes rang in Kawase’s mind.

"If I’d landed the wrong way, I probably would’ve died. Or… would you have preferred if I had?"

The sound of the wind, the crash of the waves—everything vanished. Kawase was being dragged, against his will, back to six years ago. The man had never mentioned it, so he had thought it was something silently agreed upon, buried and forgotten. But why… why bring it up now?

"What I did was nothing to be proud of, but… did it really deserve death?"

The image of a body flung through the air like a mannequin. His own feet sprinting away. His heart pounding so loudly it hurt. His fingers trembling as he gripped the receiver of a payphone.

"You went too far."

That was true.

"Ah… maybe it’s not too late, even now. Maybe I should tell everyone the truth. That I got into that accident because you hit me. That you traded your body for that department transfer."

"Stop— Stop it!"

Kawase shouted without thinking.

"I’ll apologize. I’m sorry, okay? I’ll say it. I’m sorry, so—"

"I don’t need your apology."

"Then why… why bring this up now? If you were angry, you should have said something back then! I was the one at fault!"

"I’m not angry. I don’t resent you."

"Then why—"

Kawase was at a loss. Then, in the silence, he heard something unbelievable.

"Because I’m harassing you."

The man’s lips curled into a twisted smile.

"I’m doing this to make you suffer."

Before he could think, his body moved. Grabbing the man by the collar, he yanked him up with a twist. His right hand clenched into a fist, but just as he was about to swing, he stopped himself. There was a fence, but beyond it lay a cliff. If he punched him, he might fall. Rationality kicked in.

The man moved. He cupped Kawase’s face with both hands, pulling him close. No way… The thought barely formed before their lips touched. A tongue flicked against him. Disgusting. He wanted to shove him away. But he couldn’t. Just as Kawase instinctively tried to pull back, something slammed into his chest.

The man had pushed him with both hands. But it wasn’t Kawase who staggered—it was the man. He was falling backward, nothing but empty space behind him. He was going to fall!

Before he even realized it, Kawase had lunged forward. His hands grabbed the man’s wrists, yanking him with all his might. The man’s body tilted forward instead of backward. But the force of pulling him back sent Kawase’s own body lurching toward the cliffside. He slammed into the fence, stopping himself just in time. A dry snap echoed as a wooden piece broke, and his body lurched over the edge.

He saw the drop. It was high. Too high. Small stones tumbled down, vanishing into the abyss. A wave of cold sweat erupted from his entire body.

Staggering back in a panic, he barely caught his balance. One wrong step and he would’ve fallen… He would have died.

The man sat dazed on the grass, staring blankly. Kawase stepped back to him, grabbed his collar with shaking hands, and wordlessly punched him. His glasses flew off, and he collapsed onto his back, sprawling among the white flowers.

Leaving the man where he was, Kawase walked away, retracing his steps. He didn’t even understand why, but tears welled up. He didn’t want to cry, and yet they wouldn’t stop. The frustration of it made him roughly wipe his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

When he reached the car, he realized the keys were with the man. In the end, he had no choice but to sit in the passenger seat and wait. That man was insane. Completely deranged. He’d always been off, but this was beyond that. He provoked people on purpose, made them angry… He was trying to make someone else kill him. That wasn’t something a normal person would do.

The sun set, and darkness crept in. The man still didn’t return. Maybe he really had jumped on his own. Kawase curled up in the passenger seat. Whether he jumped or died, it had nothing to do with him. He didn’t want anything to do with a man like that.

The ringtone of his cellphone shattered the silence. When he answered, a carefree voice greeted him.

"Kawase-sa~n, you still alive?" It was Matsushita.

"We were starting to think you got into an accident or something. We got to the hotel about an hour ago. Where are you now?"

He looked around. Everything was dark.

"Not sure… Somewhere near the lighthouse."

"The lighthouse? Taking a detour? Gutsy move, letting the boss drive you around."

His phone shook. His hands wouldn’t stop trembling.

"He might be… dead."

"Huh? What? I didn’t catch that."

"He… might be dead."

For once, the talkative Matsushita fell silent.

"Wait… You mean the branch president? You’re saying he actually got into an accident?"

"No."

Kawase raked his fingers through his hair, gripping hard.

"It’s not like that. But… he might be dead…"

A dark figure appeared on the path. It was coming toward him.

"Kawase-san, you’re not making any sense. Just tell me what’s going on so I can understand."

Matsushita’s voice sounded more urgent than usual. Still holding the phone to his ear, Kawase watched the shadow approach.

The man he had thought dead slipped into the driver’s seat as if nothing had happened, inserted the key into the ignition, and turned it.

"…Forget it. That was just a joke."

With that, he ended the call. Even in the dim light, he could see the swelling on the man’s left cheek. It was a terrible sight, but what unsettled him most was how the man’s profile almost looked like it was smiling.

Past seven in the evening, they arrived at their destination, Nejiru city. Though he had messaged ahead, telling them they could have dinner without waiting, the two who had arrived earlier had dutifully waited for them.

After checking in and bringing their luggage to their rooms, they gathered in the hotel lobby. The moment Matsushita and Hanawa saw the man, they gasped.

"What the hell happened to your face!?" Hanawa exclaimed. Their shock was understandable. The swelling on the man's left cheek was so severe that the cooling patch from the convenience store looked pathetically small in comparison.

"I got punched," the man answered. Kawase bit down hard on his lip. Even if the blame was placed on him, he had no intention of apologizing for this.

"Who did this to you?" Hanawa demanded, his anger flaring as he stepped closer.

"We stopped by Komagi Lighthouse on the way here," the man began, his tone smooth. "There was this nasty guy there. Just a little shoulder bump, and he started picking a fight. But I suppose I should count myself lucky—it could’ve been worse. He seemed like someone from the underworld. Still, it doesn’t hurt much. My teeth are all intact, at least."

His mouth moved effortlessly, lying without hesitation. Kawase knew he was being covered for, but he didn’t have the courage to step up and admit that he was the one who had hit him.

The four of them went to a nearby izakaya for dinner.

The man occasionally winced as if his cheek hurt, but other than that, he acted completely normal. There was no sign of the person who, just hours ago, had stood at the edge of an off-limits cliff, trying to have someone else kill him.

As time passed, Kawase started feeling as if he had been mocked in the worst possible way. Watching the man laugh openly, he couldn’t believe that this was the face of someone who truly wished to die.

After about an hour and a half, they left the restaurant. The man and Hanawa walked ahead, while Kawase lagged slightly behind with Matsushita.

At the hotel, they had booked two twin rooms. Taguchi had thoughtfully arranged the pairings—Kawase with Matsushita, and the man with Hanawa—but the two who arrived first hadn’t realized this, and Matsushita had already unpacked in the room assigned to Hanawa and the man.

During dinner, Kawase had mentioned that their room assignments seemed off, but no one seemed to care. A room was just a place to sleep for the night; the arrangement didn’t seem to matter. At least, not to anyone except him.

Back at the hotel, they received their keys at the front desk. There was only one key per room—a large metal key attached to a rectangular plastic tag. Kawase handed it to the man.

"I’m going to call headquarters. Go ahead and return to the room first. Use the bath if you want—I’ll probably take a while."

The other three boarded the elevator. Kawase clenched his phone tightly and stepped outside the hotel, walking toward the parking lot.

He sat on the edge of a planter near the parking stops and made the call.

"Oh, if it isn’t Fumi," came his uncle’s voice. Kawase pressed the phone hard against his left ear.

"There’s something I need to ask you."

"Hm? What’s up all of a sudden?"

"There’s this old boss of mine. We worked together before, but he got transferred to Hokkaido. Now we’re working together again, but… he’s weird. He says things just to get under my skin, and—he’s doing it on purpose. He’s trying to make me kill him."

A brief silence. Then, his uncle spoke.

"Where are you? You want to come out and talk?"

Kawase let out a dry chuckle.

"That’s impossible. I’m in Hokkaido right now."

"Hokkaido? Oh, right, you mentioned you had a business trip."

"It just doesn’t make sense. Maybe he hates me. Maybe he wanted to turn me into a criminal." Kawase ran a hand through his hair, gripping his head.

"Fumi, start from the beginning. Walk me through it, slowly. If you only give me bits and pieces, I can’t give you proper advice. Take a deep breath first—calm yourself down."

He did as he was told. And though it might have just been a flimsy illusion, a weak coating over his frayed emotions, he felt himself settle, just a little.

"Suicide, dying... could it all just be for show?" His uncle's voice was indifferent.

"I don’t know. But if I hadn’t stopped him, he would have fallen off that cliff and died… I think."

"Then you saved him. That was admirable."

Being told he had done something admirable didn’t sit right with him, but he couldn’t find the words to argue.

"Are you with him now?"

"Yeah. There are others with us too, though."

"What’s he like, from your perspective?"

"Normal. He ate dinner, chatting happily with the guy next to him."

His uncle fell silent for a moment.

"Hey, Uncle. Shouldn’t someone who’s trying to die be more… serious about it? Shouldn’t they be weighed down by everything inside them until they can’t take it anymore? Is it normal for someone to try to kill themselves, and then just a few hours later, sit down to eat and laugh like nothing happened?"

"Has he told you anything? About what’s troubling him, what’s making him suffer?"

"…I don’t know. I didn’t have anything to do with him before I came here."

Kawase dug his fingers into his hair.

"You’ll probably think less of me for saying this, but I really don’t care whether he lives or dies. I’ve always… hated him. If he wants to die, he should do it alone. But instead, he pulled that stunt right in front of me, as if he wanted to prove a point… It pissed me off."

A car sped past on the road in front of the hotel.

"Hey, does what I’m saying disgust you?"

A silence, then his uncle spoke.

"You’re just confused. Saying you don’t care if he lives or dies—that’s easy to say. But in reality, you couldn’t leave him alone. You even called me about it. That’s emotion, too, isn’t it? And if he only does these things when you're around, maybe there's something he’s trying to tell you. If he’s in a state where you can talk to him normally, why not try listening to—"

Kawase hung up, cutting the call short. He had reached out for help, but there was no real salvation waiting for him—no clear answer like "Take him to the hospital immediately."

He bought a canned coffee from a nearby vending machine and sat on the curb to drink it. His uncle had said that even seeking advice was an act of caring, but he didn’t want to feel anything for that man.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there when the night air turned colder, prompting him to stand up. He’d take a bath, then go straight to sleep. It didn’t matter if that man was in the same room or not.

As he lifted his head, he saw the hotel’s façade, with its evenly spaced square windows. Some of them glowed with interior light, dotting the building in warm spots. Near the top floor, one window was open. A figure in a yukata was leaning far out.

Kawase bolted into the hotel. He tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for the elevator, unable to stand still. When the bell chimed and the doors opened on the ninth floor, he rushed out.

The door to the room wasn’t locked; the latch had been wedged in to keep it open. As Kawase pushed it wide, a gust of air drifted inside.

The window directly opposite the entrance was thrown wide open. Perched on the frame, clad in a yukata, was the man. The same figure Kawase had seen from outside.

"What the… What the hell are you doing!?"

He tried to run to him, but the man pointed at him and spoke.

"Don’t move from there."

The words bound him in place. He had the eerie feeling that if he moved, the man would fall, and he couldn’t take that risk. As if testing the power of his own command, the man stared directly at Kawase. Without his glasses, without the cooling patch, his swollen cheek looked even more painful.

"Come in and close the door."

Kawase hesitated but eventually obeyed, stepping forward to shut the door. The man shifted his position, resting a foot on the windowsill and propping his face up with one hand. Squinting slightly, he smiled.

"Come closer."

The sweetness in his voice sent a chill down Kawase’s spine.

"N… No way."

The words burst from his mouth before he could even think about the situation, before he could figure out the right way to handle it.

"You’re not trying to make me push you off, are you?"

A man who wanted to die. The scene at the cliff flashed vividly in his mind.

"If that’s what you want, shall I fall?"

"Don't joke around!"

The man chuckled softly as if amused, tracing his fingertips along his chin.

"I want to kiss you."

"Absolutely not."

Kawase rejected him instantly.

"Then, farewell."

The man gripped the window frame and, without hesitation, leaned his upper body far out, facing away.

"S-Stop it!"

Kawase lunged forward, grabbing the man's arm, yanking him back into the room, then hurriedly slammed the window shut with trembling hands.

"You really are rough, as always."

The man sat down, looking up at him. Then, lowering himself onto all fours, he began crawling toward Kawase like some kind of beast. The sight sent a chill down his spine, and he instinctively backed away, step by step, until his back met the window. The man, still on all fours, looked up at him, then gently took Kawase’s right hand and pressed a soft kiss against its back.



"Hngh—!"

The damp sensation made Kawase jerk his hand away on reflex. As if some spell had been broken, the man stood up in one fluid motion. Lightly patting Kawase’s shoulder, he let out a small yawn.

"I'm going to sleep now. Sorry, but could you leave the lights on? …I'm not fond of the dark."

:-::-:

Since it was an unfamiliar road, he had left with plenty of time to spare and arrived at the airport a full two hours before his flight. The company car he had borrowed from the Hokkaido branch was left in the airport parking lot, ticket and all. Apparently, one of the employees who had been on a business trip that day would be returning and driving it back.

After checking in his luggage, Kawase sat in the waiting area, flipping through a magazine he had picked up at the shop. Matsushita had excused himself with a "I'll just make a quick call," and walked away from the waiting area. It was noisy here, so perhaps he was looking for a quieter place to call his girlfriend.

The test marketing this time could be called a success. The number of surveys collected from the three events had far exceeded expectations. What pleased him most was that, despite still being in the prototype stage, many respondents had simply written "delicious" in the answer section. They had conducted test marketing several times before, but this was one of the most promising results they had seen.

That morning, before heading to the airport, he had stopped by the Hokkaido branch to say his goodbyes. When he expressed his gratitude, Taguchi had repeatedly apologized for not being able to accompany them to the events due to his injury. The man hadn’t been at the office. He was apparently attending an off-site meeting with a client.

In the end, the last time Kawase had seen him was after the second event. A younger male employee had come to help with the third event, so there had been no further interaction.

That man had tried to throw himself off a cliff right in front of him. He had tried to jump from a hotel window. But after that, he hadn’t done anything strange, nor had he lashed out with sharp words. Kawase had remained wary, but in the end, nothing happened, leaving him feeling somewhat let down.

What had that been about? Why had the man wanted him to push him off? Was it just a cruel joke? But if that were the case, he wouldn’t have risked truly falling. Maybe he really had wanted to die. But Kawase didn’t know why, nor did he have any intention of asking.

Six years ago, when he had shoved the man and injured him, when he had no idea whether he was alive or dead, and when he had feared that the truth would come out and he would be condemned, Kawase had wanted to die, too. But even if that man had wanted to die, he had never once looked lost or broken by despair.

A high-ranking position as branch president. No apparent dissatisfaction with his work. But… his home had been filthy. That house and his behavior—perhaps they were connected in some way.

He had used the word "camouflage." If that filthy house was his true nature, then what did that mean? What kind of man was he, really?

As Kawase kept thinking, his head started to feel muddled. If they were never going to meet again, analyzing him wouldn’t lead to anything.

"What’s up? You’re spacing out."

Matsushita had returned and dropped into the seat beside him, apparently done with his call.

"Nothing. Just feeling a little tired, I guess."

"Well, it was a long trip."

Matsushita nodded in agreement, humming slightly.

"But the people in Hokkaido were really nice, weren’t they?"

"Yeah."

"The branch president was a little weird, though. That guy doesn’t seem like he’s going to live long, does he?"

Kawase found himself turning toward Matsushita. He was rummaging through a souvenir bag, searching for something.

"…Why do you think that?"

"Why? Because of that reckless driving, of course. If he got into a fatal accident tomorrow, I wouldn't even be surprised."

Now that he mentioned it, the man had driven terribly. Kawase simply nodded.

"Seriously though, does he actually want to die?"

Maybe he did. But whatever happened to him beyond Kawase’s sight didn’t matter. Kawase laced his fingers together and pressed them against his forehead.

"Hey… would you ever kiss your girlfriend’s hand?"

"Her hand? Not her lips?"

"Her hand."

Matsushita let out a thoughtful hum.

"Not often, but yeah, I guess I have."

"And in that moment, what are you thinking?"

"What else? Just that I like her, obviously."

"Could there be any other reason?"

"If we were in a foreign country, maybe respect or something? …Why are you asking all of a sudden?"

Kawase slowly slid down from his chair, his gaze fixed on his right hand. There was no way that man had respected him. He might have just been teasing him, and he had no idea what he was really thinking.

The announcement for boarding began to play. Kawase stood up, grabbing his belongings. He felt that this was just a fleeting moment of thinking, and that once he returned to Tokyo and a few days passed, he would gradually forget about it all.

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