The Moon’s Ship That Crosses The Night: Chapter 23

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From the next day onward, Kawase took action to send the man back to his hometown. However, planning it outright in front of him felt somewhat awkward, so he made arrangements over his phone during lunch breaks at work.

His first call was to the local city hall. Since the man had a visual impairment, Kawase thought he might qualify for some kind of welfare support, but the conversation led nowhere.

Despite his blindness, there were no detectable issues with his eyes or brain. The condition was suspected to be psychological… but without proof, nothing could be done. And even if his blindness was psychological, that alone didn’t necessarily indicate a psychiatric disorder. Everything was frustratingly vague.

A city hall representative advised Kawase to consult a local hospital, so he contacted the general hospital nearest to the man’s home. The hospital’s psychiatrist agreed to examine him if he came in but doubted he would qualify for hospitalization. Instead, they suggested he live at home under the care of family. However, the man had no family to care for him.

When Kawase brought this up, the doctor suggested that, as long as finances weren’t an issue, he could simply hire someone to assist him in daily life. Until then, Kawase had only considered placing the man in a facility, but it was true—if someone handled his basic needs, he could manage just fine.

On the night marking the fifth week since the man had arrived, Kawase finally said, "We need to talk."

The man, lounging lazily on the sofa after dinner, slowly turned his head.

Kawase explained his conversations with the city hall and the doctor, concluding with a proposal: hire a caregiver and return to Hokkaido.

"At first, you said your blindness would last ten days, but it’s been over a month. I doubt it’ll continue much longer, but… I have work and other responsibilities, so—" He carefully chose his words to avoid sounding harsh.

He studied the man’s face, but it was unreadable. His gaze remained distant, unfocused, as if none of Kawase’s words were sinking in.

"I’ll find someone to help you over there. The only issue is their pay. Do you have enough savings to cover that? I really don’t know—"

The man’s lips moved.

"I have no intention of hiring anyone. And I have no intention of going back."

A sharp twitch ran through Kawase’s cheek.

"What do you mean, no intention? Then what are you going to do?"

A sinking feeling gripped his stomach.

"I was prepared to abandon everything. You were the one who forcibly stopped me. Don’t you think you have a responsibility toward my life now?"

A chill ran down Kawase’s spine at the way he said it.

"What the hell are you talking about—"

"If you don’t want to take responsibility for me, just say, Get out."

Kawase swallowed hard.

"If you say that, I’ll leave."

For the first time in a long while, real emotion flickered across the man’s face.

Kawase clenched his fists.

"Let’s say I do tell you to get out. Where exactly would you go?"

The man laughed. Silent, breathless laughter. Then, with a slight shrug, he murmured,

"Maybe it’s better if you don’t know."

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Even though he had stayed up late thinking about the man, Kawase woke up at six in the morning. He had set an alarm, but it turned out to be unnecessary.

By six-thirty, he was dressed, carrying his work bag, and stepping outside. As always, he inserted his key into the lock. Even if he locked it from the outside, the man could still leave anytime he wanted by turning the inner lock. Still, Kawase dutifully locked the door every day.

His hands suddenly stopped mid-motion. Without turning the key, he simply pulled it out. The door remained unlocked. It doesn’t matter whether I lock it or not, he told himself.

As he walked to work, he kept thinking about the unlocked door. Even at the office, the thought wouldn’t leave his mind. During a meeting, he zoned out and missed an important point, only realizing it later when a colleague filled him in.

That man, for all his absentmindedness, was sharp in certain ways. If he realized the door had been left unlocked, he would probably leave. No—he would leave.

…Wasn’t that what Kawase wanted?

He wasn’t doing anything illegal. Forgetting to lock a door was nothing. But the unspoken message behind his action was clear: I want him gone. He had stopped him from dying, only to be told he now had an obligation to take care of him. He didn’t want to be trapped in this endless responsibility.

He had barely felt sympathy for the man to begin with, but now, something dark and heavy was festering inside him. Someone like him… he should just die. Thinking that way made Kawase sick with himself.

His stomach churned, and at lunch, he threw up everything he had eaten. He wanted to rush home immediately and lock the door, but even as the impulse flared, a part of him hesitated, still hoping the man would leave.

He didn’t go back. Work was too busy, and whether that was a valid reason or just an excuse, he wasn’t sure anymore. In the evening, he had a business dinner with an external designer, and by the time he boarded the train home, it was already past nine.

His footsteps quickened as he approached his apartment. He glanced up from the street—his room was dark, just as he had left it.

He had never felt this nervous turning his own doorknob. It twisted easily to the right. The lock remained undone, just as he had left it.

He switched on the entryway light. His breath caught when he didn’t see the man’s shoes, but when he looked closer, he spotted them shoved into the bottom of the shoe rack.

Flipping on the hallway light, he saw a shadowy figure near the sofa. The man turned to face him, slow and ghostlike. Kawase couldn’t tell whether he hadn’t noticed the unlocked door or if he had seen it and simply chosen not to leave.

His own reaction upon seeing the man wasn’t relief. It wasn’t irritation, either.

Without taking off his suit jacket, he booted up his laptop and searched for the nearest locksmith. He found a shop that offered 24-hour service, stepped outside, and made the call on his cell.

Less than an hour later, the locksmith arrived. In addition to replacing the old lock, Kawase requested one that could be locked from the outside but wouldn’t open from the inside. He didn’t ask the landlord for permission. If they found out, they found out.

When the locksmith asked, "Why install a lock like this?" Kawase casually lied, saying he had a young niece who often visited and tended to wander outside. The locksmith didn’t press any further.

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