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