Second Serenade: Chapter 34

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The doorbell rang again and again, relentlessly. Kakegawa had apparently fallen asleep on the tatami floor the moment he got home, worn out from filming during the day. When he’d arrived, the sun had still been high in the sky, but by the time he woke up, everything around him was wrapped in darkness. He shivered from the cold.

Still half-asleep, he fumbled around for the light switch. The doorbell rang once more. Four or five more times went off by the time he made it to the entrance. As far as Kakegawa knew, only one person would do something this thoughtless: Director Yamaoka.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming, geez.”

He grumbled toward the person beyond the door as he unlocked it and pulled it open. But the man standing there wasn’t the tasteless, inconsiderate director. It was Hashimoto.

He hadn’t seen the man in two months.

“If you’re home, then come out already. I’m coming in.”

Before Kakegawa could even find his voice, Hashimoto brushed past him and barged into the room. With an intensely sour expression, he entered without so much as asking and sat down in front of the low table. He wore beige pants and a white shirt, no jacket. Without a word, he grabbed one of Kakegawa’s cigarettes from the table and lit it. Kakegawa had never seen him smoke before.

Why had he come here—of all places—on what should have been a sweet night spent with his lovely new bride? Kakegawa hadn’t heard anything about the wedding date, so maybe the ceremony hadn’t happened yet. That possibility sparked a flicker of hope in his chest.

Why did you come here? Why now?

He stared at Hashimoto, who kept smoking in silence. He tried to guess the reason. But no matter how he turned it over in his mind, he could only imagine one possible conclusion—like a narrow tunnel with a single way out, it all pointed toward something good.

Maybe he realized he’d rather be with me. Maybe he came to get back together.

Hashimoto knew both his phone number and address, but this was the first time he’d actually come. He’d been so resolute, so certain when he ended things—but now here he was again, and Kakegawa’s heart stirred. The sight of him made his chest tighten with longing. He wanted to throw his arms around him. After everything Hashimoto had done, the very fact that he’d come back made it feel like he could forgive him for all of it.

“That woman.”

Hashimoto muttered with hatred, exhaling a plume of smoke. After only a few drags, he snuffed the cigarette out in the glass ashtray with a sharp twist.

“She’s got a lot of nerve.”

Kakegawa hadn’t realized it at first, caught up in his own foolish hopes. But this wasn’t a man who had come back because he missed him. Hashimoto was furious—burning with rage.

“…Hashimoto-san.”

The moment he spoke, it was as if he’d lit a fuse.

“Don’t screw with me!”

Hashimoto hurled the lighter he’d been holding straight at Kakegawa. It struck him on the right cheek at close range, and he instinctively shut his eyes. But that wasn’t enough to satisfy Hashimoto—he began throwing whatever he could get his hands on.

“What the hell…”

Stunned, Kakegawa couldn’t even move to stop him. All he could do was wait for the storm to pass. Eventually, when there was nothing left nearby to throw, Hashimoto began to calm down. His clenched fingers trembled violently.

“That woman…”

He repeated the phrase over and over. Who was he talking about? His wife? Someone else Kakegawa didn’t know about? Holding his forehead with one hand, Hashimoto suddenly let out a high-pitched, hysterical laugh—almost like a woman losing control.

“That woman… right before the ceremony, she suddenly started puking in the dressing room, saying she didn’t feel well. I thought she was just nervous, but something was off, so I took her to the hospital. And what do they say? ‘Congratulations, your wife is pregnant.’”

A child. Hashimoto’s child. The brutal reality hit like a blow to the head. And yet the only words Kakegawa could summon were a feeble show of composure.

“…Well, that’s good news. Congratulations.”

“Are you stupid?”

Hashimoto exploded again.

“If the kid were mine, it’d be fine. But I haven’t even touched her. She said she was from a respectable family, so I treated her with care… and meanwhile, she was off screwing around with some other guy. Real classy, huh? And now I’m the one stuck paying for her fun.”

He slammed his hands down on the table again and again.

"That woman… even after all that, she kept insisting it was my child… I know what’s really going on. She lied because she was scared of getting scolded by her parents. Like hell I’d marry a woman like that. I never even liked her to begin with—only stuck around because she was the daughter of the department head’s big client. And that bastard of a department head, how dare he push damaged goods on me… It makes me sick. If I’d known it’d come to this, I’d have been better off with you."

He ranted to himself, working himself up all on his own. The more worked up Hashimoto got, the more that initial flutter in Kakegawa’s chest turned into a cold, creeping chill.

"In the end, the honeymoon and the wedding were all for nothing. It’s all that woman’s fault, but her family’s demanding I pay for the travel and venue costs. Do you have any idea how much that adds up to? I was going to take it to court, but the department head shut it down—‘Settle it quietly,’ he said. Because it’s an important client, we can’t afford to upset them… so they told me to pay. Like I’ve got that kind of money lying around. I had no choice—I sold my condo to cover it. Thanks to that stupid woman, I lost both my home and my savings."

Hashimoto shrugged in exaggerated frustration. Kakegawa suddenly remembered what his teacher had told him once:

“Find yourself a better love.”

It made him want to laugh. Not because it was funny—but because it was pathetic. Sad. Miserable. Is this really the man I fell in love with? A man this petty? He’s the lowest of the low. Trash.

"In the end…"

At Kakegawa’s words, Hashimoto looked up.

"You did the same thing, didn’t you? Even after your engagement, you kept fooling around with me. The only difference is that she’s a woman, so she ended up pregnant. But you both did the same thing."

"You’re saying I’m no different from her?"

Hashimoto barked, snapping at him like a dog baring its teeth.

"Yeah, exactly. So what makes you think you’re better?… And why did you come here today?"

Hashimoto clamped his mouth shut.

"I told you, I wasn’t going to see you anymore. So why’d you show up? You thought I’d feel sorry for you? That I’d comfort you because you couldn’t get married and had to sell your condo and lost your savings?"

Hashimoto’s pale face tightened, as though he might topple backward at any moment.

"I can guess. You didn’t have anyone else you could vent to, did you? So you came here. You’ve never even visited before—it must’ve taken some digging to find me."

"That’s…"

Hashimoto bit back his words.

"You’re pathetic."

Kakegawa didn’t say it to be kind. He wasn’t trying to teach a lesson. He had no interest in what effect it might have on Hashimoto. He just needed to say it.

He dropped to his knees in front of him, leaning in to stare into that ashen face.

"You know, Hashimoto-san… I didn’t like you from the beginning. You were always whining or badmouthing people. Self-centered, selfish, always only thinking of yourself. Not a shred of compassion. Not kind at all."

"What the hell… you…"

Hashimoto tried to speak, but Kakegawa cut him off.

"Want me to be honest too? When I chased after you and said I liked you, that was a lie. I was down at the time. Lonely. I didn’t care who it was, as long as he’d sleep with me. If it was a good guy, I’d have felt guilty. But you? You were clearly a jerk from the start, so it didn’t bother me."

"You…"

Hashimoto’s voice trembled.

"But I still felt guilty—maybe not guilt, but something close. That’s why I kept saying I liked you, over and over. But you didn’t seem to care. You were just playing with me too."

Hashimoto gulped audibly. He nervously rubbed his cheek down to his chin again and again with his palm.

“What was I to you?”

It was a question full of confusion.

“A cost-free, personal sex doll. …At least at first. But I guess I started to feel something… Even someone like you, I came to like you.”

Hashimoto glared at Kakegawa with a ferocious expression, trembling all over.

“People at work hate you too, don’t they? I’d hate having a boss like you. You’re suffocating. Really, the only thing you have going for you is your face and body. Maybe you’ve got a bit of a brain too. But if you were ugly on top of that, nobody would’ve given you the time of day. Then again, maybe that would’ve been better—you’d have understood your place in the world a little better.”

“Don’t mock me!”

Hashimoto’s hand flew up for a slap, but Kakegawa caught his wrist just in time.

“You’re not completely unaware, are you? You do realize everyone hates you. How many guys have you dated before me? None of them stuck around, and that’s because of your personality.”

He gripped the caught wrist tighter.

“Being with you wears me out. Everything you say grates on my nerves and pisses me off. I don’t want to deal with it anymore.”

Hashimoto thrashed his right arm to shake free, rough and desperate. Finger marks from Kakegawa’s grip stood out clearly on his pale wrist.

“And if I got serious, I could get a sweet, kind, reasonable boyfriend in no time.”

Just like when he arrived, Hashimoto suddenly stood up. His legs trembled beneath him. As he silently turned to leave, Kakegawa grabbed his arm again—almost unconsciously.

“Want me to take care of you?”

He smiled at Hashimoto’s twisted face.

“But there’s a condition. Taking on someone as messy and burdensome as you requires some resolve. I’d need to see some real sincerity from you too.”

He paused for a breath.

“It’s simple. Just tell your parents, ‘I’ve always liked men. I’m in love with a man right now, so I can’t get married.’”

“Like hell I could say something like that. Are you trying to ruin my family?”

“I never expected anything from you anyway—it was a joke.”

He let go of the arm.

“Bye-bye, Hashimoto-san.”

He gave him a shove and tossed him outside.

“Oh, and by the way—I’m gonna be an actor. It’s a small part, but I’ll be the lead in a movie. Once I’m a star, you’ll be able to see me on TV. But actors aren’t allowed scandals, right? Especially with other men—that’d be bad for ‘public image.’ So don’t come here anymore. You’d just be a nuisance.”

“Like I’d ever come back, even if you begged me.”

Hashimoto’s voice had lost all strength, utterly drained. As he disappeared into the darkness, Kakegawa felt a flash of regret at how cruel he’d been—if only for a second.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Kakegawa had been away from his apartment for a week on a location shoot. The mountain village chosen as the filming site was about five hours north by car from the city where he lived—a depopulated area with nothing but one shabby old inn. That inn served as their lodging during the shoot, and it was the kind of outdated, grimy place that had become rare in modern times. Parts of the walls looked ready to peel off, the curtains were sun-bleached and torn in several places, and the hanging scroll on the wall had the bottom half ripped away, making the room look like it could turn into a haunted house at any moment.

"Man, I haven’t stayed in a dump like this since my middle school club trips," the director said, oddly delighted.

There weren’t even any bars in sight, so Kakegawa had hoped that for once he’d be free from the nightly drinking parties while they were staying out in the sticks—but that hope was short-lived.

On the very first night of the shoot, the inn's room was instantly transformed into a banquet hall. There were no stores nearby, and yet somehow the table had been piled high with every kind of alcohol and snack imaginable. Apparently, heavy drinkers were equipped with some sort of radar for sniffing out liquor stores, even in the remotest areas.

It became a string of drinking parties night after night. Kakegawa knew that if he kept up with them, he’d end up with either alcoholism or cirrhosis, so at first he’d been dodging them as much as possible. But on the night near the end of the trip, he finally got caught by the director.

Dragged into a staff room hastily converted into a party venue, Kakegawa resigned himself. There was still filming to do the next day, so he kept telling himself to drink in moderation—but just that night, he ended up going overboard.

Maybe it was because he was a little tired. He realized he’d crossed the line when he noticed that his mouth was running nonstop, words spilling out faster than his brain could catch up.

“You’ve been kinda low-energy lately,” said Murashita-san, one of the staff members.

“I’m just a bit worn out, that’s all,” Kakegawa brushed it off with a vague excuse, but everyone began speculating anyway.

When he added, “School’s been keeping me busy too,” the director promptly gave him a whack on the head.

“A lazy college student whining about being busy? Give me a break.”

Kakegawa laughed it off and tried to dodge the questions with his usual evasiveness, but one staffer hit the mark directly.

“Let me guess—relationship drama, right?”

A back came to mind. Hashimoto’s back, so thin it looked like it might snap. The pain in his eyes after Kakegawa's cruel words.

But he quickly tried to justify himself—I was the one who got hurt more. I was the one who was treated terribly.

“…Yeah, something like that.”

He didn’t deny it, and the room erupted like a kicked hornet’s nest.

“Kakegawa-san, you have a lover?!”

One of the younger staffers who’d pressed up close to him got whacked on the head by a middle-aged colleague.

"Didn’t I just say we broke up? It’s not that strange that I had someone."

They all started clamoring—What kind of girl was she? How far did it go?—even the director was leaning in, ears perked.

Normally, Kakegawa would never talk about his love life in front of a crowd like this. But his blood alcohol level was higher than usual, and his mouth slipped.

"Really, really good-looking. Slender overall. Sharp, narrow eyes, high nose, soft hair… super smart too. But the personality… yeah, there were problems. Selfish, demanding, never once showed me a shred of kindness."

"Ahh, one of those Dietrich types. Gorgeous flowers always have thorns," the director nodded wisely.

"Said they were getting married, so we broke up. And then when that fell through, they came crawling back. Can you believe that?"

“Yeah, I get it,” came various nods and murmurs of agreement from the group. The director downed the rest of the beer in his right hand and asked:

“So, what are you going to do?”

“What do you mean, what am I going to do…”

"You’re thinking about getting back together, aren’t you? Still hung up on ‘em."

“I… I don’t know.”

The words crumpled out of his mouth.

"Forget that awful person already," the director shouted loudly. For some reason, the comment was even met with enthusiastic applause from someone.

“But…”

The director grabbed Kakegawa’s cheek roughly.

"But what? C’mon, spit it out."

Leaning into Kakegawa’s grimacing face, the director teased like a kid bullying someone smaller.

"If… if I’m the only one they’ve got left…"

The director let out a short, sharp laugh.

“Making a man think that—now that’s her trick. What a manipulative little piece of work. A woman like that? Just dump her, clean and simple. And cheating? That’s a habit. Just like I can’t quit drinking. Once it happens, it’ll happen again. You’ll be the only one suffering.”

"But my body still wants them. I wanna see them, hold them, touch them… kiss them…"

Everything after that was a blur. Kakegawa couldn’t remember much more of the night. For the first time in his life, he drank himself into oblivion. The next morning, head pounding with a brutal hangover, he dragged himself to the set, only to be teased by every single staff member he passed—called a “horny bastard” by all of them.

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