Second Serenade: Chapter 28

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Hashimoto, who tended to hole up at home, would never go out—much less go out for fun—when it was just him and Kakegawa. The main reason was that running into someone they knew would make explanations too much of a hassle. If they were around the same age, they might pass for coworkers or old classmates. But with Kakegawa, that excuse wouldn’t fly. Even pretending they were cousins wouldn’t help. Two grown men, one over thirty, hanging around with someone more than a decade younger—it would make anyone tilt their head.

Kakegawa understood, but that didn’t make it easier. He wanted to see Hashimoto not just at night, but during the day too. He wanted to go to different places together. He knew saying, “Let’s go here right now” or “Why don’t we do this” would never work with someone like Hashimoto. So instead, he was secretly making plans to lure him out little by little.

The only thing they did together that could really be called “going out for fun” was attending the O'Donnell concert. Kakegawa had once told Hashimoto that he’d bought O'Donnell’s CD and listened to it, but that had been a lie—meant to provoke a reaction. In truth, he’d never listened to it even once. So he wasn’t particularly excited about the concert itself; what he looked forward to was going out with Hashimoto, just the two of them. Hashimoto had seemed to be looking forward to it too—he’d been in a peculiarly good mood starting the day before the concert.

On the day of the concert, Kakegawa went to pick him up wearing jeans and a shirt, dressed casually.

“Don’t embarrass me by showing up in clothes like that.”

Hashimoto sighed in exasperation. He was dressed in a casual suit with a grass-green shirt and a dark green scarf at his chest—looking like he’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine. But still, Kakegawa was a university student, not even a full adult yet—he didn’t own a suit. He admitted it honestly. Hashimoto replied, “Then I’ll lend you one.”

It was just pants, a shirt, and a tie—but Hashimoto made him change clothes over and over, like a Barbie doll.

“I want to find the outfit that suits you best.”

In truth, he probably just wanted to dress Kakegawa up to his own taste. But Kakegawa didn’t say that aloud. He knew Hashimoto would get mad, and he didn’t want to start a fight right before what was supposed to be a fun date.

The O'Donnell concert was held in a large hall, and even before entering, the lobby was packed with people. Most were men and women in suits, but there were a few others like him—students in jeans and shirts, dressed casually.

He hadn’t had high hopes for the live performance. But in that moment, he found himself genuinely impressed with it. The concert was fantastic. Even for Kakegawa, who didn’t know much about classical music, the violin made it clear what a formidable instrument it was. Sometimes delicate, sometimes terrifyingly bold—it sent shudders through his entire body. The infinite range of sound that little piece of wood could produce was astounding. He even forgot about the person sitting next to him for a while, completely absorbed in the sound.

Even after they returned to Hashimoto’s apartment, the resonance of the music still hadn’t left his ears. Still half-dazed, Kakegawa saw Hashimoto flash a self-satisfied smile.

“See? The real thing’s different, right? Too bad the seats weren’t better, though.”

Had the seats on the ticket he’d torn up been better? Hashimoto started humming something as he set his keys down on the kitchen counter and pressed the playback button on the blinking answering machine.

He tossed his jacket over the back of a chair, and his fingers unknotted the scarf. Beneath the pale green shirt was the soft curve of his back. With each movement of Hashimoto’s shoulders, his muscles slowly shifted up and down. I want to touch him, Kakegawa thought. Right now. I want to peel off that shirt and put my hands on the body beneath it.

He wrapped his arms tightly around Hashimoto from behind. Hashimoto squirmed slightly, annoyed.

“Don’t be in heat,” he muttered.

At that exact moment, the rewound tape began to play.

“…Mic-chan, it’s your mother. You’re not home, huh? That’s too bad…”

The body in his arms suddenly jolted and began to struggle to break free. Maybe he was embarrassed that the call was from his mom. That reaction amused Kakegawa, and with a teasing grin, he held him even tighter.

“Work must be keeping you busy. That’s tough. Don’t push yourself too hard, okay? I’ll just get straight to the point. I received the RSVP postcards from Asami-san’s side. Combined with ours, it looks like we’ll hit just over three hundred guests as planned. I’ll go ahead and inform the venue. We need to decide on the seating soon, so come back home once to go over it. Also, the travel agency called—there’s been a change regarding your honeymoon accommodations. I thought it’d be best if you two talked directly, so I gave them your number. Did they get through to you? Oh, I’m getting a call. I’ll call you back. Hanging up now.”

Shaking off Kakegawa’s frozen arm, Hashimoto rushed over to the phone and erased the message. When he turned around, his face was like that of a child caught playing a prank—awkward, uncomfortable.

“Someone’s getting married...?”

Hashimoto said nothing. His silence only stirred more unease.

“It’s not... you, right, Hashimoto-san?”

“It’s about me. I’m getting married in November.”

His face was completely unapologetic.

“You never told me anything!”

Hashimoto frowned at the raised voice.

“Of course I didn’t. I never brought it up.”

“Why not...?”

“Because it would’ve been a hassle.”

What did he mean by a hassle? It didn’t make sense. It was like all activity in his brain had stopped—he couldn’t think in any logical order. An exaggerated sigh echoed in his ears. Hashimoto gave a slight shrug and gently pulled the wrist of the stunned Kakegawa, who stood frozen in place.

“Come on, sit down.”

Prompted, he sat at the counter. Hashimoto stepped into the kitchen and set water to boil.

“I figured I’d have to tell you eventually, so this worked out, in a way. I think it was six months ago—my boss set me up with the daughter of a client. The conditions were good, I’m not getting any younger, and I thought maybe it was time to get married. So I went ahead with it.”

“Even though you have me?”

He knew he sounded pathetic, clinging, even to himself. Hashimoto let out a short laugh.

“We hadn’t even met yet back then. And even now, what’s the point? We can’t get married. We can’t have kids. I can’t even introduce you to my parents.”

Then why did he ever get involved with me? Was it really just a physical thing? A cup of coffee was set in front of him.

“Still, have some. Calm down.”

Hashimoto took a sip of his own.

“It’s not like I never thought about it. You’re cheeky, but cute... At first, I thought it’d be a one-night thing. But you said you really liked me, and I had just broken up with my partner, so I was free... I figured I’d pass the time. We actually got along better than I expected, and it was easy being with you. I didn’t have to be on my guard. That’s why it went on so long. But we can’t stay just the two of us forever. You get that, right? I can’t stay single either. People don’t trust a bachelor, and I’ve got my position at work to consider.”

He could feel it—the impending rejection. I was supposed to be the one who decided when we ended. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They’d had sex so many times. He’d said he loved him. And only now, only now, did he realize how much he truly loved this man.

He stared in disbelief at the coffee, unable to take another sip after that first taste. A finger gently brushed his cheek, as if to console him.

“I was going to tell you sooner, really... but I couldn’t bring myself to say it when I thought about how you’d feel.”

It wasn’t because of how I’d feel. He’d said it himself—it was because it would be a hassle. He’d probably feared Kakegawa would lash out upon hearing about the marriage, maybe even try to sabotage the engagement. That was the “hassle.” He didn’t want to understand, but he did. He understood perfectly. Pretending it was for Kakegawa’s sake, acting as if he was being considerate—but in the end, it was all for himself. Just for himself. That’s the kind of man Hashimoto was.

“I know it’s probably too much to ask you to celebrate for me, but try to hold it together, okay? Just because I’m getting married doesn’t mean anything between us has to change. But let me say just this—don’t try to get in the way. If you behave yourself, I’ll keep seeing you. Of course, I’ve got my own life now, so we won’t be able to meet as often as we do now…”

He couldn’t believe his ears. If you behave yourself, I’ll keep seeing you—that’s exactly what Hashimoto said.

“You’re planning to keep this going even after you get married?”

Hashimoto gave him a deliberately cheerful smile.

“Lucky you, huh?”

His head spun. He couldn’t keep up with Hashimoto’s logic.

“What about your wife? You can’t—”

Hashimoto frowned—that telltale sign he was angry.

“As long as we don’t get caught, it’s fine. As long as you keep your mouth shut, it’ll be totally fine. You want to see me too, don’t you?”

He no longer had the energy to argue. It was like the will to speak had been completely torn out of him.

He had known from the beginning. He had known exactly what kind of man Hashimoto was. That’s why he’d chosen him. He was perfect for something casual.

But he had never been the kind of person worth falling in love with.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

A sweet night turned into the worst night in an instant.

When Hashimoto asked if he wasn’t staying over, the sheer insensitivity of it made him so angry he felt sick. How could he still expect to sleep together, as if nothing had happened after saying all that?

“I need to clear my head.”

As Kakegawa put on his shoes by the door, arms crossed, Hashimoto watched him and said: “Don’t go doing anything reckless.”

Don’t let heartbreak push you into wrecking everything—that’s what he meant.

In the end, what mattered to Hashimoto wasn’t how shocked or hurt Kakegawa was, but whether he would do something that might be inconvenient for him. That was all he cared about.

He didn’t feel like going straight home. He passed the entrance to the subway station.

He didn’t know what lay beyond this point—he’d never walked this way before. But strangely, he didn’t feel anxious.

Once past the downtown area, he came to a wide river. A broad bridge with three lanes on each side spanned the riverbanks.

He turned right just before the bridge and went down onto the riverbed area.

Streetlights dotted the walkway at long intervals.

In the dim light, the surface of the river looked pitch-black, and the sound of the water was barely audible.

The occasional wind carried the foul stench of sewage.

The feeling that filled his chest was one called regret.

If he broke it down further, there was frustration, anger—a murky tide of everything mixed together.

“What should I do…”

He didn’t need to say it out loud. He already knew the answer. But dragging it to the surface made it all the more painful.

They had to break up. Obviously.

Hashimoto was going to have a family—a wife, maybe even kids someday.

Continuing to see each other would only burden them, risk destroying that family.

Even if things did fall apart, Kakegawa could never take responsibility.

And he didn’t want to live with the guilt of being the reason for it for the rest of his life.

He clenched his teeth.

Frustrated, angry—and more than anything else, he couldn’t stand the fact that he was the one being jerked around by someone so utterly worthless.

Why should he be the one getting hurt this badly over someone like that?

When he’d been heartbroken before, it hadn’t felt like this.

It hurt and it was sad, but he had never once regretted falling in love, or being the kind of person who could fall in love like that.

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