Nibiiro no Hana: Chapter 21

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Even though July had begun, the sky remained thick with the persistent gloom of the rainy season. A light drizzle had been falling since yesterday without pause. Inside the packed commuter train, the humidity felt even worse than usual, pushing the discomfort index to the max. As if that weren’t enough, the middle-aged man next to him in a baseball cap reeked of body odor—like rotten eggs. Breathing felt like punishment.

Eventually unable to bear the smell any longer, Sagawa seized an opportunity to move away when a big crowd shuffled in and out at a stop, creating a gap. Free from the stench, he let out a quiet breath of relief. Commuting to work was already depressing enough—he didn’t need some random stranger making it worse.

Yesterday had been a Monday, but Sagawa had taken a paid day off and skipped work. It gave him a three-day weekend starting from Saturday, which he had spent lazily playing video games and browsing online at home. He hadn’t contacted Dan since Friday night. He knew there were unread messages, but he hadn’t looked at them, let alone replied.

As he absentmindedly looked around the train, Sagawa was startled to find Tennoji standing nearby. Though he'd been commuting on this train line for years, it was the first time they’d ever ended up in the same car. Tennoji lived in a town in the opposite direction—had he moved? Or maybe he’d spent the night at his girlfriend’s place and was going to work straight from there? Given that face of his, women were probably the least of his worries.

Girlfriend… The image of Reina’s face flickered through his mind, dragging up a memory he’d tried to forget. His already gloomy mood sank even deeper.

Last Thursday, he had gone on a date with Reina. She’d wanted to see a movie starring one of her favorite actors, so they grabbed dinner first and then caught a late-night showing. Romance movies weren’t really his thing, but he’d felt guilty for not being able to perform the last time they were together, so he tagged along as an apology of sorts.

After the movie ended, he stopped by the restroom and took a pill. It was medication he’d had prescribed in advance to help counter the difficulty he’d been having maintaining an erection—likely due to becoming too accustomed to anal stimulation. He could still get hard; the issue was staying that way. Since his symptoms were relatively mild, he figured just a little pharmaceutical help would make everything go smoothly.

He had been fully prepared—but disaster struck in the taxi on the way to Reina’s apartment. His whole body suddenly started itching. His face, arms, and legs turned red, and the itching was unbearable. Sex was the last thing on his mind. Reina, concerned, said, “Maybe something you ate at the restaurant didn’t agree with you. You should go to the hospital.”

After dropping her off at her place, Sagawa headed straight for the emergency hospital. He was convinced it had been something he ate. But then the doctor asked, “Did you take any medications recently?” and it hit him. That pill. The one for arousal.

He was mortified. The thought of admitting he’d taken that kind of medication was humiliating—especially with a female doctor examining him. He really didn’t want to say it. But… what if it happened again next time? That would be a nightmare. When he didn’t respond right away, the doctor tilted her head, puzzled. She was middle-aged, which was marginally better than if she’d been some young woman. He summoned every ounce of courage he had.

“…I was with my girlfriend today, and I took some medication because of that.”

The explanation was too vague, and the doctor asked, “Could you tell me the name of the medication?”

In a voice barely louder than a mosquito’s buzz, Sagawa muttered the drug’s name. The doctor nodded with an “Ah,” an expression on her face that seemed to say, So that’s why, without a trace of surprise or judgment.

“That may very well be the cause. We can’t say anything for sure without testing, but that medication is known to have some pretty severe side effects. If your body doesn’t respond well to it, it’s better not to use it.”

And just like that, even his last hope—the “pill” that was supposed to save him—was cut off. Sagawa was devastated. Now that he was seriously considering switching jobs, Reina, whose father was the company president, was the ideal match he couldn’t afford to lose. But if she ever found out he was functionally impotent, it wouldn’t just ruin any chance of marriage—she might leave him entirely.

In the taxi ride back from the hospital, scratching at the itch that still plagued his arms, Sagawa turned it over and over in his mind. He had been able to get hard and even finish when his anus was stimulated, so the cause was clear—he had overused that part of his body. The problem during sex with Reina was sustaining an erection, and he’d hoped that medication would be enough to compensate. But now that option was gone too.

Was it just because he was currently sleeping with Dan on a regular basis? Once Dan’s tenure ended and he returned to the U.S., their arrangement would be over, and surely things would go back to normal once he started being with women again.

But what if it didn’t?

What if, even after cutting things off with Dan, he still couldn’t perform with women? If medication didn’t work for him, there would be no options left. If it came to that, he might never be able to get married. And even if he did, in this condition, he’d be branded—not just by his wife, but by her entire family—as a man who “couldn’t do it,” as someone impotent. He’d be written off entirely as a man. That was something he could never accept.

He couldn’t afford to wait around until Dan’s departure. It wasn’t about the five million yen anymore. If he didn’t stop using his ass—or sleeping with men—right now, he might never recover.

From that miserable, itching Thursday night, to the Friday when he emailed Dan to terminate the contract, and through the sluggish three-day weekend, Sagawa had been thinking about it constantly. How did it come to this? He had gotten exactly what he wanted: transferred to the head office, a pay raise, and even admiration from his former colleagues at the branch office. And yet, the head office’s management division didn’t suit him at all. So much so that he was seriously thinking of quitting.

If this was how it was going to turn out, he never should’ve forced his way into the head office with his body as collateral. He should’ve just taken the slow route and found a woman like Reina from the start—a “reverse Cinderella” route.

Tennoji’s profile caught the edge of his vision. Taller than most people around, he stood out whether he wanted to or not.. If I had English skills like his, maybe I could’ve enjoyed working at headquarters too…
The thought disgusted him. Deciding to pretend he hadn’t noticed his coworker, he pulled out his smartphone. If he didn’t distract himself with a game or something, all his thoughts would spiral into gloom.

Just as he opened the app, the train gave a hard lurch. He braced his feet instinctively and avoided colliding with anyone. A small sigh of relief escaped him—safe. But when he looked up… he accidentally made eye contact with the very coworker he’d been trying not to notice. Ah… I’ve been spotted.

“Huh? Sagawa?”

Eyes wide in surprise, then narrowing slightly, Tennoji smiled with the smooth polish of an actor, lifting the corners of his mouth. His gleaming white teeth looked like something out of a gum or toothpaste commercial—and it creeped Sagawa out.

“Good morning. Didn’t expect to see you on the same train.”

Sagawa sighed inwardly, already feeling the hassle of engaging. Still, he replied, “What’s up with you? You live in the opposite direction.”

“There was a memorial service. I came straight from my parents’ place.”

So it wasn’t some romantic story. Now that he thought about it, back when they worked in Sales together, Tennoji had been popular, but he’d never once heard about him dating anyone.

The train rocked hard again, and Tennoji, sandwiched between passengers ahead and behind, laughed awkwardly. “Pretty crowded, huh?”

“It’s always like this, but the rain makes it feel even worse.”

At the transfer station, it was like pus being expelled from a wound—passengers emptied out en masse. With some breathing room and a bit more space, the suffocating tension lifted a little. As he adjusted the knot of his tie, Tennoji suddenly turned to Sagawa and said, “Oh right—”

“I’m being transferred to the head office.”

He said it with a face beaming with pride. Tennoji? Going to the head office? Pulling someone from the branch to the main office only happened once every few years, and now, two people within such a short span? It didn’t make sense. Stunned, Sagawa couldn’t hide the tremor in his voice. “Seriously?”

“Starting in January next year. I’ve always been interested in working overseas, so I’m really excited.”

What’s the proper thing to say as a former colleague in a moment like this?

“…Congrats. That’s great news.”

His response felt hollow, like a scripted phrase spoken without meaning.

“Thanks. I’m supposed to be a secretary, though at first I’ll be attached to the administration department. Knowing you’ll be there too makes me feel more confident.”

There was nothing strange about Tennoji’s transfer. He was good at his job, and his English was practically native-level. But for it to happen just six months after Sagawa had been moved? The timing was too short—too suspicious. Maybe Tennoji had done what he himself had done—gotten close to someone at HQ.

“Betty always seemed to like you. Maybe the recommendation came from her?”

He probed, trying to detect any flicker of guilt or unease on the man’s polished face.

“A while back, remember when you brought Mr. Adams to visit the Sales Department?”

Sagawa’s mind flashed to that blond creep—Huey Adams, the one who had harassed him.

“Carter’s term ends this year, and apparently Mr. Adams is set to take over as president of the Japan branch. He’s the one who recommended me. He said once he’s in charge, he wants me to serve as his executive secretary.”

In just a few minutes of conversation during a routine branch office visit, that sleazy blond guy had seen through to Tennoji’s language skills and capabilities. Sagawa had paid a steep price to get ahead—to be transferred to the head office first. Yet Tennoji, purely through merit, had gotten there with shocking ease. And Betty respected Tennoji’s skills too. If he joined the Administration Division, comparisons would be inevitable. Sagawa could already picture himself becoming more and more isolated.

“I’m still a little anxious about whether I’ll manage, but I’ll do my best,” Tennoji said brightly.

The news of Tennoji’s transfer felt like nothing short of a personal tragedy. Sagawa didn’t want to be here anymore. He wanted to quit—preferably before Tennoji joined the department.

Since they were headed to the same place, they walked together all the way to the office. Tennoji got off on the floor where the Sales Department was; Sagawa went up to the sixteenth floor where headquarters was. The usual sense of superiority wasn’t there at all.

The headquarters Administration Division—a place he had once admired. Today, like every day, he stepped into a workplace stuffed to the brim with stress. He didn’t even feel like booting up his computer. On days like this, the English flying through the room grated hard against his already frayed nerves.

“Sakawa.”

Betty walked over. Just hearing her call his name the moment he arrived made him brace himself for whatever was coming.

“Yes?” he said, lifting his face warily.

“The president’s secretary just asked that you come to the executive office.”

So it comes to this… He let out a sigh.

Late Friday afternoon, he had sent Dan a curt message: The one-year contract will be considered terminated as of today. Thank you for your understanding. He hadn’t gone to Dan’s apartment that night. Since then, Dan had sent several emails, but Sagawa hadn’t opened a single one. By Sunday, the messages had stopped altogether. He’d thought Dan had given up. Clearly, he’d been too optimistic.

“It sounds urgent. Go now.”

Pressed by Betty, Sagawa reluctantly got up from his chair. He really didn’t want to go. But he knew Dan probably wouldn’t let this go without at least one face-to-face conversation. What annoyed him was the fact that Dan, instead of respecting work boundaries, had used his position to summon him during working hours. Inside the company, they almost never crossed paths, and had barely exchanged words.

“Stop dawdling,” Betty snapped.

Frustrated, Sagawa made his way to the president’s office. The Japanese secretary stationed outside recognized him at a glance, didn’t even confirm his name, and stood up.

“The president is expecting you,” she said, knocking on the office door and announcing, “Mr. Sagawa has arrived.”

“Come in.”

Dan’s voice echoed from behind the closed door. The secretary opened it and motioned him inside with a polite “Please go ahead.” Sagawa wished she’d come in with him—but the moment he stepped through the doorway, the door clicked shut behind him.

Dan was at his desk, eyes on his computer screen, not even glancing his way. He had summoned him, yet chose to ignore him… or maybe he was just waiting until he finished whatever task he was working on.

It was Sagawa’s first time in the president’s office. It resembled Dan’s apartment—very simple. The oak-toned desk was plain and practical, with no unnecessary embellishment. The chair was one of those high-end ergonomic models built for long hours of work. Even the sofa, clearly from a famous international designer, gave off an expensive aura—but the overall lack of color made the space feel cold. The view from the glass windows was the only thing softening the stark atmosphere.

Dan hadn’t told him to sit, and Sagawa didn’t plan to linger, so he stood silently and didn’t take the sofa in front of him. Watching a crow fly past the window, he thought inanely, Must be nice to be you… when he heard a squeak of a chair. Dan had risen from his seat and was walking toward him.

His face was as expressionless as ever, but from his entire body radiated a foul mood. He was angry. Sagawa could tell that much—he’d spent enough time beside the man to recognize it.

“Why haven’t you replied to my emails?”

The interrogation began there.

“Oh, you sent emails? Sorry—I didn’t see them. My phone’s broken and currently in for repairs.”

He made up the excuse on the spot.

“What’s the reason for ending the contract?”

Dan cut straight to the point, apparently satisfied with the flimsy story about the phone.

“I just… felt like it was time.”

The truth was that he couldn’t perform with women, and after some thought, he realized it was likely because he had overused a certain part of his body. That was the real reason he wanted to end things with Dan. Still, the feeling that it was “time to move on” wasn’t exactly a lie either.

Dan stepped closer. Close enough to slap him. The pressure of his glare hit Sagawa like standing in front of a wild beast—he instinctively leaned back.

“If you’re honest with me, I’ll let this go quietly.”

“‘Let this go quietly’?” Sagawa’s voice trembled. “It was a contract from the start.”

“We agreed: a transfer to the head office within six months, and five million yen if the arrangement lasted a year. I’m just saying I’m canceling halfway through. You got to sleep with a guy for free—so we’re even, right?”

Dan grabbed him by the collar. Convinced a punch was coming, Sagawa squeezed his eyes shut—but the blow never came. He sensed the hand release him and cautiously opened his eyes.

Dan’s gaze was so sharp it felt like it could kill with just a look. The tension was unbearable. The idea of having a public falling-out with another man inside the company was a nightmare.

“If you don’t tell me the real reason, I’ll fire you immediately.”

It was a blatant threat—one that cornered him using power and rank. Sagawa’s head flushed hot with anger.

“You can’t do that! That’s a breach of contract!”

“The contract doesn’t include anything about giving a reason. If you don’t like it, sue me. Go ahead—tell the world how you used your body to cozy up to a male superior.”

That original contract they drew up… it was just a piece of paper. Dan must have known that from the beginning. Even so, he had honored it—transferred Sagawa to HQ as promised. If things had continued, Dan probably would have paid the full five million. He wasn’t the kind of man to be stingy about that.

Dan wasn’t demanding an explanation because of some contractual principle—he was doing it because he was emotionally attached. At some point, he had started treating Sagawa like a real lover. And if the contract ended, he probably would’ve asked to start a relationship in earnest.

Sagawa wondered—if I stay silent, will he really fire me? Dan had the authority to do it. Losing this job meant losing the ability to pay rent, and potentially missing any chance to enter Reina’s father’s company. Getting fired was not the same as resigning in hopes of transferring—it would leave a stain. And if that happened, he’d lose everything. Job, stability… and with his declining sexual function, he’d be left with nothing but a useless body.

Still—there was no way he could say the real reason out loud. That it was because he’d used his ass too much and couldn’t sleep with women anymore. No matter what, he couldn’t say that.

Then what would satisfy Dan?

Gritting his teeth, Sagawa looked up—ready to get punched if that’s what it came to.

“…There’s someone I like.”

Dan’s green eyes opened wide in shock.

“I want to marry her. That’s why I don’t want to have sex with men anymore.”

It wasn’t a lie. Dan’s mouth hung open, completely speechless. He must never have imagined a third party—hadn’t suspected it even once. They’d had such intense sex twice a week that Dan probably couldn’t even imagine anyone else fitting into that space.

Dan’s right hand slowly rose to his forehead.

“Is it a woman?”

Does he think every man who sleeps with another man must be gay? Sagawa thought. He knew from the start I’d never been with a man before—so what is he even asking now?

“Yes,” he answered simply.

“How long have you been seeing her?”

Dan’s voice dropped to a low growl. In truth, it had only been about a month and a half since he met Reina—but that sounded too short. So he lied.

“Three months.”

“I haven’t broken any rules. The contract never said I couldn’t have a girlfriend.”

Dan neither yelled nor raged—he simply stood there in silence. The spacious executive office felt like it had turned into a sealed aquarium, the weight of the silence pressing in like water pressure, making it hard to breathe.

Then, suddenly, Dan kicked his desk. A loud thud echoed through the room as the perfectly positioned desk was knocked askew. The force of it rooted Sagawa to the spot, frozen in place. Dan stormed around the now-angled desk with irritated footsteps, then swept the laptop off its surface. It flew across the room toward the window wall and hit the floor with a crash, fragments scattering. Something had definitely broken.

Sagawa stood stiff as a board, anxiety tightening in his chest. Dan’s fury had been taken out on objects so far, but when would it turn on him?

Just then, the shrill ring of the internal phone cut through the room. Dan seemed to snap out of it. He picked up the receiver and curtly instructed, “Put them through.” After a two-minute call, he hung up and turned toward Sagawa.

“Go,” he said, waving his right hand dismissively.

The gesture was the kind someone would use to shoo away a pesky dog. It irritated Sagawa—but the relief of being allowed to leave far outweighed the offense. He turned and quickly exited the president’s office.

The encounter left a bitter taste in his mouth, but it was over. Most likely. When Sagawa had refused to explain himself, Dan had threatened to fire him, but once he mentioned there was a woman, Dan had fallen silent. There was always a chance he’d get a sudden termination notice later—but Dan wasn’t the kind of man to go back on his word. Probably.

Still, if he’d known it would turn out this awkward, he should’ve ended things the moment he got his transfer to headquarters. Extending the contract just for the lure of five million yen had been a mistake. But back then, he couldn’t have imagined Dan getting emotionally attached—or his own body reacting the way it had. In the end, those six months had been nothing but loss. But fine, it was done now.

Before returning to the Administration Division, he headed to the smoking area to calm down. Since the workday had just begun, no one else was there. As he brought the lighter to his cigarette, he noticed his fingers trembling and gave a wry smile.

Once he finally got the flame going and took a deep inhale, the nicotine seeped into his lungs and heart, easing the weight inside him.

“A contract’s a contract. Catching real feelings is just ridiculous.”

He thought back to the desk-kicking and the destroyed laptop. Dan had really lost it. Still, at least the outburst had been directed at objects, not people.

It had been scary at the end—but his relationship with Dan was finally over. Now, if only his penis would start responding properly again, everything would go back to normal.

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