The Eyes of a Child: Chapter 09

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"Why are you so quiet?" Satoko peered into Domoto’s face. He was the one who had called her, saying he wanted to talk, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to share his troubles with his twin sister sitting across from him.

"Did something bad happen at work?"

Even with Satoko’s slow and gentle way of speaking, the tension inside him didn’t ease. If it were just work stress, that would’ve been better. That kind of problem usually had a solution. But he couldn’t bring himself to speak, because deep down, he knew this was a taboo.

"There’s a kid at school who’s really attached to me. I thought he was kind of cute, but…"

Satoko’s eyes widened more than he’d ever seen before.

"You mean… you like that boy?"

Domoto gave a slight nod. In a calm voice, Satoko declared, "I think you should stop."

"But maybe… maybe it’s not even that kind of impure feeling. Maybe I just think he’s cute…"

"The fact that you’re wavering means you do like him, Hiroki. But it’s not going to work out."

"Why not…?"

"Because you’re an adult."

He knew that. Of course he did… He almost said it out loud, but stopped himself.

…It had started a few weeks earlier. That day, Domoto was in the social studies prep room, but Jotaro didn’t come by to hang out. He had shown up to class, so he must’ve been at school. Domoto wondered why, but went home without giving it too much thought. The next day, Jotaro still didn’t come. On his way back to the teachers' room, walking down the hall, Domoto spotted him playing soccer in the schoolyard with classmates. He looked like he was having fun. If the bullying had stopped and he was doing well with his peers, then that was the best outcome. Kids that age were meant to play with others their own age. Domoto knew that, but he couldn’t completely shake the twinge of loneliness he felt.

The next day it rained. And then, after two whole days without a word, Jotaro suddenly showed up again. As always, he tucked himself in a corner reading, occasionally interrupting Domoto’s work.

"Did you make up with your friends?"

When he asked, Jotaro replied with a bright "Yeah," smiling.

"But y’know, just hanging out with them all the time kinda wears me out. I don’t even know about the new games and stuff. Dad won’t buy them for me. Says, ‘Why should I waste money on your games?’"

Jotaro stretched dramatically on his chair.

"And Hitoshi just does whatever dad says, so even if I beg and beg, he won’t buy me anything. Says, ‘Not until dad says it’s okay.’ Hitoshi’s the president of a big company and he’s still a cheapskate."

He pouted as he spoke.

"But I guess it’s fine. Since Hitoshi became president, dad doesn’t have to skip lunch anymore ‘cause there’s nothing to eat. And we don’t just have croquettes for dinner now."

Jotaro let out a sigh far too heavy for a child, his gaze low.

"I can’t say everything I’m thinking to the kids in my class. I worry they’ll laugh at me or think I’m dumb. There’s stuff I can’t even tell dad… but I can talk to you about anything, Hiro-sensei. That’s why this place feels the safest to me."

Domoto could tell exactly what the boy was hoping for as he leaned in close. So, just like always, he ruffled that jet-black hair, giving him what he wanted.

"I’m glad you’re at this school, Hiro-sensei."

It was the ultimate compliment, a teacher’s greatest honor. If Domoto had been just a “normal teacher,” it might have ended as a heartwarming story. But in that moment, Domoto found himself wanting to hold the child who adored him… and take him home.

Satoko had looked at him with sorrowful eyes, then quietly left. To feel something for an elementary school student, it was madness. He knew that. He knew it too well. But even so, he had to talk to someone, or he wouldn’t be able to contain it. He wouldn’t be able to manage the feelings swirling inside.

The doorbell rang, ding. He glanced at the clock: past 3 p.m. Maybe Satoko had forgotten something? He walked to the entryway and opened the door.

Standing there was the very child who had seized his thoughts and filled him with turmoil until just moments ago.

"Jotaro? What are you doing here at this hour?"

His voice rose in surprise. The boy looked down, silent.

"How did you get here?"

"I walked."

Just the fact that he’d come to his teacher’s home, alone, at this time of day, something about it was not normal.

"Hiro-sensei… let me stay over tonight."

His voice was barely more than a whisper.

"I don’t mind," Domoto said gently, "but does your father know where you are?"

"I don’t give a damn about dad!"

The boy snapped, his face stiff with defiance.

"Did you have a fight with him?"

Jotaro clammed up again. There was no getting anywhere at the door like this, and it was cold outside. Domoto stepped aside and let him in.

Jotaro sat down in the middle of the room, hugging his knees. He wouldn’t meet Domoto’s eyes, just kept staring at the floor.

"You got into a fight with your dad, didn’t you?"

The boy nodded, just once.

"Can I ask what it was about?"

Jotaro hesitated, clearly unsure whether to answer. But then, slowly, he raised his face and opened his mouth.

"I told him I wanted to join a boxing gym… but he said no."

There was still a lingering spark of anger in his eyes.

"He said I couldn’t because I’m still a kid."

Domoto stared at the crown of his head. The fact that this child, after fighting with his parent, had come straight to him, it was endearing. It meant Jotaro trusted him, relied on him. That was something to be proud of.

But Domoto reminded himself: he couldn’t let that affection cloud his judgment.

"I agree with your dad. I think it’s not a good idea for you to join a gym either."

Jotaro looked up, his expression on the verge of tears.

"But why…"

"A gym costs money. And—"

"There’s a gym for kids near our place. It does cost money, but I told dad I’d use my allowance. I want to box! I want to be strong!"

It was the kind of passion that kids threw themselves into headfirst, like catching the flu.

"Why do you want to be strong?"

"Because… it’s cool."

"You want to be cool, so you’re going to spend your dad’s money to learn boxing?"

Jotaro’s mouth tightened. His eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

"The Jotaro I know would realize that doesn’t quite make sense."

"Damn it!"

He yelled, pounding his fists on the floor again and again.

"You don’t have to join a boxing gym to become strong."

Face buried in his arms, curled up tight, Jotaro slowly lifted his red, tear-streaked face.

"If you want to be strong, study hard. Play hard."

"What the heck is that supposed to mean?! That has nothing to do with boxing!"

"Boxing training is tougher than most sports. You have to be patient, disciplined. But you say you hate schoolwork. I don’t think someone who gives up on studying can stick with boxing either."

"I would do the training!" Jotaro shouted.

"Studying is easier than boxing. If you can’t even handle that, I don’t believe you’d last with boxing."

Big tears spilled from his wide eyes, falling in heavy drops.

“But… but I really want to do boxing…”

“If you really want to do boxing, then you need to learn how to work steadily and consistently. And you should spend time playing with your friends, running around, and building up your stamina.”

Domoto could see Jotaro clenching his back teeth tightly.

“If you can stick with that for about a year, then I’ll ask your dad together with you. I’ll say, ‘Please let him join a gym.’”

The tear-streaked face of a child who had been the picture of tragedy lit up instantly. He clung to Domoto’s right arm and started shaking it wildly.

“Really? Really?”

“It’s true. I’ll ask him with you.”

“…Okay.”

It seemed the explanation had satisfied him, and he gave a small, obedient nod. A child's interests are endless. No matter how serious they claim to be, you can't take it all at face value. That’s why Domoto had proposed a one-year preparation period. If, even after a full year, Jotaro still wanted to learn boxing, then fine, he could start. But if it was just a passing phase, he’d probably forget all about wanting to box before the year was even up.

Since Jotaro was sniffling and his nose was running, Domoto pulled out a few tissues and pressed them to the boy’s face. After he blew his nose with a loud honk, the tip of it turned bright red, silly-looking, yet somehow endearing. So endearing, in fact, that Domoto almost felt like kissing that red spot…

A tiny achoo of a sneeze snapped Domoto back to his senses. Realizing just how close he had leaned in, close enough that he could’ve kissed him, he hurriedly pulled his body back. …A sudden wave of fear gripped him.

“Uh… well, how about I walk you home now?”

His voice came out just a little too high.

“What? No way!”

Jotaro frowned, wrinkling his forehead.

“If you don’t go back, your dad’s going to worry.”

The boy hugged his knees and suddenly started fidgeting.

“I don’t wanna go home. I still don’t want to see dad’s face.”

“That might be true, but the longer you put off apologizing, the harder it’ll be.”

“I’ll go back properly tomorrow morning. So just let me stay at your place tonight, okay?”

“I don’t mind, but your dad…”

Whether Jotaro stayed or not, they at least had to let his father know where he was. Domoto eventually convinced the reluctant boy and called his father’s cell. As expected, the man had been worried sick, searching all over for his son who’d suddenly run off.

Domoto explained that Jotaro was at his apartment, his homeroom teacher’s place, and that they had agreed to put the boxing gym idea on hold for a year. The father, on the other end of the line, kept apologizing profusely.

“I’m so sorry. It’s all that idiot’s fault. I’ll come get him right away. I’m terribly sorry for the trouble.”

“Well, about that, Jotaro’s still a little worked up and says he doesn’t want to go home just yet. If it’s alright with you, I’ll let him stay here tonight, and tomorrow I’ll make sure he gets home safely.”

“I couldn’t possibly impose on you like that. I’m sorry, but could I talk to my stupid son for a second?”

“Your dad wants to talk to you.”

Even when Domoto held the phone out, Jotaro shook his head furiously.

“If you want to stay here, you have to talk to him yourself.”

Looking very reluctant, the boy finally took the phone. Still, considering the tone of his father’s voice, Domoto was worried it might turn into an argument, and sure enough, it did, right over the phone.

“Dad always said no no no, no matter how many times I asked! But Hiro-sensei actually explained why it wasn’t okay!”

Even when Domoto tried to hush him with a “Try to use your calm voice…”, the boy wasn’t listening at all.

“You like Hitoshi more than me, don’t you, dad?! You don’t need me, as long as Hitoshi’s around!”

When he shouted loudly, Jotaro threw down the phone and leapt onto Domoto’s bed. Curling up like a hibernating bear, he covered both ears with his hands. Domoto picked up the phone; the call was still connected to his father. Still holding the device, Domoto moved to the kitchen to continue the conversation. Perhaps realizing there was no way to bring his son back after such an outburst, the father repeatedly apologized, saying, “I’m truly, truly sorry. Please take care of my son. I’ll come get him myself first thing in the morning.”

After hanging up, Domoto sat down on the bed beside the child curled into a ball.

“Your dad kept saying over and over, ‘Please take care of Jotaro.’”

The small back twitched in response.

“He might be a little short-tempered, but he seems like a kind, good father.”

At that, Jotaro suddenly burst into loud sobs. Domoto was at a loss for words, unsure of what to say, when the boy abruptly pushed himself up with both hands and clung to him like a baby monkey.

“Because... dad likes Hitoshi more than he likes me.”

The child’s body, clinging to him, was burning hot.

“He still sleeps with Hitoshi, but he won’t sleep with me anymore. We used to always sleep together, the three of us, but ever since I started second grade and we moved, he told me I should start sleeping alone, and I hated it so much.”

Domoto chuckled a little.

“That’s how it is in every household. Once kids reach elementary school, they start sleeping on their own. It’s not like you’re the only one, Jotaro.”

“But Hitoshi…”

“Misaki and Hitoshi are lovers, right? It’d be sad if they had to sleep in separate rooms.”

Jotaro still looked a bit unconvinced, but he pressed his face into Domoto’s chest with a soft thump.

“I like sleeping all snuggled up. It’s warm and feels good.”

He tightened his arms around Domoto’s back.

“Just at night, I wanna be Hiro-sensei’s kid.”

Jotaro murmured softly.

“You wouldn’t get mad if I cuddled up to you at night, right?”

If only something like that were truly possible… It was a child’s silly wish, and yet, it stirred something real in the adult. Domoto wrapped his arms tightly around the small body radiating heat.

“When I first said I wanted to be a boxer, dad told me, ‘That’s great.’”

Mumbling against Domoto’s chest, Jotaro continued to speak in a low voice.

"Did he say it was a good thing?"

Domoto gently stroked the small head resting against his chest.

"He said it’s good that I found something I want to become. There are people who never figure out what they want to be, or what they want to do, even after becoming adults. But I found something I love, so I'm lucky."

So that's why… Domoto thought. Jotaro's sincerity and straightforwardness must come from the way that father raised him.

"Jotaro’s dad is a wise man."

The boy lifted his face. From up close, his large eyes looked up at him.

"Dad says he's dumb though."

"I don’t mean academically… I just think he’s someone who understands things the right way."

As he traced the boy’s smooth cheek with a fingertip, Jotaro squinted as if it tickled. His earlobe was soft, and when Domoto blew a breath across it with his nose close, the small body twitched in surprise. He cupped the boy’s cheeks with both hands, and their gazes locked.

He pressed a long, lingering kiss to Jotaro's forehead. Just as he began to move to his lips,

“Hiro-sensei?”

The voice pulled him back to reality. Domoto abruptly pushed himself away from the child and jumped off the bed. In his rush, his feet tangled and he fell headfirst, slamming his forehead into the corner of the room.

Grasping his forehead, he stood back up and ignored the voice calling “Hiro-sensei, Hiro-sensei” as he fled the room. He passed through the kitchen, exited out the front door, and collapsed against the wall beneath the gas meter, clutching his head.

His heart was pounding so hard it felt like it would leap from his chest. When he opened his hands, they were trembling violently, as if stricken with some kind of illness.

He had almost done something unthinkable. That much, he understood. Hugging him could be brushed off as a joke. A kiss? In foreign countries, it's just a greeting… Would that excuse work on that boy?

The boy who said his parent was gay. Even if he could forgive his own parent, how would he feel if someone like his teacher directed those kinds of feelings at him?

He wished he could disappear. If there were a hole here, he’d crawl into it… or better yet, someone just kill me, he thought. That’s how low he felt.

With a creak, the front door opened. He turned around, and locked eyes with Jotaro, who was quietly watching him.

"Hiro-sensei, why did you go outside?"

He asked, half-hiding his body behind the door.

"I… I have things I want to think about alone."

It would’ve been better if he’d just gone back inside, but for some reason, Jotaro came out too. He sat down beside Domoto. Scary, scary, scary. If this child called him a homo, a freak, or said he was disgusting, he felt like he’d just start crying right there.

His emotions were being thrown around by a child. These messy feelings, fear and regret, how could anyone even begin to put them into words?

Even though just allowing Jotaro to exist beside him was already pushing him to his limit, he felt a tug on the hem of his shirt.

"W-What?"

"Hiro-sensei, aren’t you cold? I’m cold."

"I’m an adult… If you’re cold, go back inside. You’ll catch a cold."

Their fingertips touched. The small fingers, slightly smaller than his trembling ones, gripped his tightly.

"Hiro-sensei, you’re really cold too."

Just from the sensation of being touched, his mind went blank. Blank, but he was now staring into Jotaro’s puzzled face.

"Hiro-sensei, do you like me?"

Domoto looked down and shook his head.

"T-The thing earlier… that wasn’t what it meant."

"You kissed me because you like me, right?"

Having the thing he did spelled out in words made his back burn with shame.

"A kiss on the forehead doesn’t count as a real kiss…"

"But you tried to kiss my mouth too. My heart was pounding. Sensei, you like me, don’t you?"

With him inching closer from the front, there was no escape. Behind him was the wall.

"You like me, right? Then say you like me properly!"

His right hand, which was being held, was shaken hard, and he felt dizzy.

"If you like me, then just say you like me already!"

It was almost like a threat. Tears welled at the corners of Domoto’s eyes.

"If I say it, what are you going to do then!?"

He yanked his arm away and shouted in a tone that bordered on panic. Jotaro looked surprised, blinking wide.

"If Sensei says he likes me, I might let you go out with me."

Here he was, nearly crying, and this kid had the gall to say he might let me. And yet… Domoto stared at this child’s face, looking far calmer than himself, clearly holding the upper hand.

"Hiro-sensei is my fourth most favorite person in the world. So I could be your boyfriend."

Standing at the chilly entranceway, with the cold wind blowing through, Domoto found himself, like he’d fallen into a trap, murmuring the words I like you in front of a child who was clearly waiting for him to say it.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

After breaking into tears in front of someone he had just met, Domoto secured a promise of employment before leaving the cram school. He’d thought for sure they’d be appalled by his pathetic display, but Kuraho, the school’s owner, had simply smiled and said, “I like people who are unabashedly human.”

After that, after sincerely confessing his feelings to a fourth grader and making him his boyfriend, Domoto lay on the floor of his unfamiliar new apartment, staring up at the ceiling.

He had said “I love you,” but Domoto hadn’t really thought about what would come after that. It was like a teenage love, reckless and impulsive, without any thought for what came next. If it had been with an adult, things would’ve been easier: go on a few dates, have dinner, sleep together. But with a child, none of that was possible.

Their time spent together in the social studies prep room after school was the closest thing they had to a “date,” but even that hadn’t changed at all from how things used to be. At the very least, even after Domoto’s confession, Jotaro’s attitude toward him remained the same. It was only Domoto who found himself restlessly yearning, wanting to be with him more, to hold his hand, to embrace him.

There had been a moment, Domoto couldn’t recall exactly when, when Jotaro had asked him, “When do you think I’ll be able to live at your place, Sensei?”

“Live with me?” Domoto had echoed.

“They call it cohabiting before marriage, right? I wanna live with you soon, Sensei. Then we can sleep all cuddled up together. Do you think dad will let us once I’m in middle school?”

He asked it all so innocently. But the idea of two men cohabiting… it probably wouldn’t even be possible until after high school, or maybe not even until adulthood. The reality of being involved with someone who couldn’t yet make those kinds of decisions hit Domoto hard. Jotaro surely didn’t even understand what sex between two men entailed. He probably had no idea that the word “sleep” could carry two meanings.

He’s just a child… Thinking that way was how Domoto justified everything. He doesn’t know, because he’s a child. He doesn’t understand, because he’s a child. Even if their relationship couldn’t be romantic, Jotaro still cared for him. That was enough, he told himself he shouldn’t ask for anything more.

It was around the middle of the third term. Domoto happened to be walking past a classroom when he saw Jotaro chatting happily with the girl who sat next to him, Ujie. Two kids the same age, whispering to each other with their heads close together. It was a completely normal, even charming, scene… and yet Domoto was consumed with intense jealousy. The fact that it was a girl made it even worse. He wanted to barge into the classroom and say, “Could you not talk to Jotaro?” He was startled, and a little frightened, by the sheer force of his own emotions.

That day, Jotaro came to hang out in the prep room as usual. When Domoto casually brought it up, “You seem pretty close with Ujie-san lately”, Jotaro just smiled brightly and said, “Yeah.”

“She’s funny, kinda like a guy. She said she wants to try boxing too, so we promised to go to the gym together next year.”

…It was a shock. Domoto wasn’t really into martial arts and would’ve probably declined even if Jotaro had invited him, but still, it didn’t mean he had to go with someone else.

“…Hiro-sensei?”

Jotaro leaned in to look at Domoto’s face, which had gone quiet.

“What’s wrong? You suddenly got all quiet.”

They were dating… so he wished Jotaro would be a little more considerate. He didn’t want to hear him talking so happily about other people. And if he was going to talk about them, then at the very least, he wished he’d follow it up with something like “But the only one I love is you, Sensei.” That kind of follow-up.

Suddenly, the whole thing struck Domoto as absurd, and he laughed.

What could a child that age possibly understand? Just how much of this kind of adult give-and-take was he even capable of grasping?

Tears spilled out. One moment he’d gone quiet, then burst into laughter, and now he was crying, perhaps even Jotaro sensed something was off. He moved close, pressing up against him. Domoto felt the boy’s touch on his face, thin fingers brushing lightly against the tears that had fallen to the outer corner of his eye. It was such a small hand. A hand too small to hold much at once.

Domoto lifted his head. That little face, that mess of unruly hair. Arms and legs as slender as sticks, but still flexible and full of life. They would grow. All of it, his body, his heart, would continue to grow. Those small eyes would see more of the world, absorb more stimulation, and eventually… what kind of person would he become?

He wanted to see it. He wanted to watch Jotaro grow. See how he matured. But the truth was, he adored this child. He loved him. He wanted to keep him all to himself. Every time Jotaro got along with another kid, would Domoto always feel this same ugly, pitiful jealousy?

Being lovers, that was impossible. At last, Domoto understood that. Having an elementary school lover and trying to carry on a relationship like any normal couple, it was impossible. No matter how much he cared, no matter how deeply he loved, it couldn’t work.

Then maybe, if he confessed now, they could go back. Back to being just a close teacher and student.

"I'm okay now..."

He gently took hold of the small fingers that had been trying to comfort him.

"It was just something unpleasant. But I’m fine now.”

“I’ll listen,” Jotaro said, gazing up at him with a serious look in his eyes.

“I’ll listen to the things that make Hiro-sensei sad. Boyfriends have to support each other, right? I can’t always be the only one telling you my problems.”

It’s because of you that I’m struggling. It’s you who makes this so hard… But Domoto couldn’t say that. So instead, he forced a smile and said, “It’s okay.”

It hurt, how seriously he’d fallen into this toy-like romance all on his own.

It took about two weeks before he was able to bring himself to suggest they break up. Thoughts kept cycling through his mind, If I just put up with it, maybe we could stay like this... and No, this will only happen again and again…, making it impossible to come to a decision.

He wasn’t suitable for a boy like Jotaro, who was still in the middle of growing up. For Jotaro’s future, it would be better if he wasn’t around. Domoto had a feeling that, if he tried to explain anything about what lay ahead, things Jotaro had no experience with, the boy wouldn’t be able to understand. So instead, he told a lie that a child could understand: “I’ve fallen for someone else.”

Jotaro’s anger was terrifying. It couldn’t even be compared to the time he fought with Kobayashi. He shouted at the top of his lungs, “You cheated on me, even though I’m right here, even though I’m right here!”, and lunged at Domoto. With the fists he’d once said he wanted to use for boxing, he punched Domoto, and in the end, he clung to him like an adult and cried, “I absolutely won’t let you go!”

Domoto held back his urge to take it all back and, hardening his heart, shook off the child who clung to him. And from that day forward, he never spoke a word to Jotaro again.

Even so, no matter how much Domoto ignored him, Jotaro came to the social studies prep room every single day. But he never came inside, he always just sat out in the hallway. Whether Domoto was there or not, every single day, Jotaro sat there, never playing with his friends, waiting in silence for Domoto to give in. And the more Domoto watched him like that, the more that wordless devotion became unbearable.

He couldn’t stand the thought of that silent protest continuing all through fifth grade, and then sixth.

The day the third term closing ceremony ended, Domoto handed in his resignation to the principal and then headed to the prep room. As he expected, Jotaro was sitting there in front of the door.

“…Go home now.”

Because he knew it would be the last time, he finally spoke to him. Jotaro’s sulky eyes lit up in an instant.

“I’m heading home too,” Domoto added.

The child stood and walked over to Domoto’s side.

“I love you, Sensei.”

It hurt so much it felt like his chest was being torn open.

“So even if I can only be your second choice… make me your boyfriend.”

He couldn’t reply. To think the boy had agonized so much that he was now saying he’d be okay with being second, even though he used to care so much about being first, it broke his heart.

“Just go home for today,” Domoto murmured quietly.

“…When the new term starts again…”

Jotaro whispered, “Okay,” and left.

Domoto watched that small figure disappear down the hallway, and quietly said goodbye. This was the end. They would never see each other again. And if, by some chance, they did cross paths someday, he hoped they would both have changed so much they wouldn’t even recognize each other.

On the walk from the school back to his apartment, the tears came. Just remembering the boy’s expressions, his gestures, his words, tears welled up and wouldn’t stop. When he told Satoko, she said nothing, just held him. When she whispered “That’s so sad”, it only made the tears come harder.

The version of himself who had become serious about a child, and the version of himself who had run away for the sake of that child, neither of them could be laughed off. Both had been deadly serious. That much was true.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Seven Years Later – Early Autumn

Kuraho stopped him and asked, "Are you interested in martial arts?"

In the staff room of the private school Kuraho-an, Domoto gave a wry smile.

"I'm not really… I'm not good with pain," he said.

Kuraho shrugged. "Actually, neither am I."

Outside the window, the last cicadas of the season were buzzing faintly, as though their voices were nearing the end.

"The thing is," Kuraho continued, "my nephew is about to make his professional debut in boxing. You know the saying about even withered trees adding to the mountain's bustle… well, I was asked if I could bring people to cheer him on."

Boxing. The word stirred old memories deep in Domoto’s chest.

"Ah, I see. But that’s amazing, to be professional," he replied.

"It's my sister's kid," Kuraho said. "She told me she’s worried sick. No parent wants to see their own child getting hit in the ring, after all."

As they chatted, Domoto somehow found himself agreeing to go and watch the nephew's debut match, if only as a show of support.

On the day of the match, Domoto went with his colleagues from work to the nearby general gymnasium. They had arrived just before the match was set to start, yet the arena was sparsely filled. He felt he finally understood what Kuraho had meant by the "withered trees" comment.

As soon as he sat down in the nearly empty spectator stands, the opening announcement began.

"The headmaster's nephew is apparently in the third match," one of his coworkers said, handing him a flyer.

On the flyer were only the start times and the names of the competing boxers. It seemed Kuraho’s nephew was the third match, someone named Usami Nao.

Casually scanning the flyer, Domoto’s eyes froze on a name printed for the first match. His fingertips began to tremble. No way, no way…

Ignoring Domoto's growing unease, the announcer called the name of the first match’s fighter, and the boxer climbed into the ring.

"Red corner… from Fukoku Gym, Jotaro Kashiwabara…"

The man standing in the ring was tall, a young man with sharp, piercing eyes. There was not a trace,  not even the faintest shadow,  of the face he had once known as a child. He was now a strong, feral young male.

At the sound of the gong, the young boxer launched into an aggressive offense, and in a matter of seconds, sent his opponent crashing to the mat. Yet even after his victory, he left the ring with an expression of dissatisfaction.

Domoto excused himself, saying, "I’m feeling unwell…" and stepped outside the gymnasium.

He recalled the young boxer’s face. It reminded him of that young father he had seen a few times. The child he had once known was no longer there. The boy he had once been so enamored with was, in all likelihood, gone forever.

Domoto laughed softly to himself, alone. Even if it was like this, from a distance, he was glad he had gotten to see that boy’s figure again. He was glad the boy had realized his dream, had become strong. And he felt, at last, as though he could let go of the feelings that had been lodged deep in his throat all these years.

It had been brief, but it was the most intense love he had ever experienced. Sending it off with a single tear, Domoto slowly lifted his head.

THE END

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