“My, if it isn’t Motofumi!”
He was on the way home from dropping off a s.h.i.+pment at the commodity centre. He had just bought some cans of chuhai from his local supermarket and was mounting his moped when he heard his name being called. Hirosue turned to see s.h.i.+mizu’s mother. s.h.i.+mizu was his former cla.s.smate, and his wedding ceremony was set to take place next next week. Hirosue had been asked to make a speech as the best man.
“It’s been a long time, Mrs. s.h.i.+mizu. And congratulations on your son’s marriage.”
“Thank you,” the woman said with a wide grin. Her amiable face, full of familiarity, was the very picture of a country matron, and filled Hirosue’s heart with warm relief.
“So you’re back here for good, are you? I’m sure your mother and father feel very lucky to have both of their sons with them. So, Motofumi, aren’t you going to get yourself a wife?”
“I haven’t really been…” Hirosue trailed off vaguely, scratching his neck.
“You didn’t find anyone nice over there?”
When Hirosue smiled wryly in answer, the woman rapped him sharply on the shoulder.
“You’re a handsome young man, Motofumi. I’m sure you could find yourself a wife if you looked,” she said firmly.
“That’s what I hope for.”
They stood there and chatted for a bit before parting ways. Back when Hirosue had just arrived home, every acquaintance he met asked the same cookie-cutter questions about wives and marriage. That settled down after two or three weeks, when he had gone through most of his acquaintances. Still, once in a while when he ran into people he hadn’t seen yet, he was asked the same thing yet again.
In the countryside, people got married either early or incredibly late. Hirosue was in the “late” group, along with his cla.s.smate, s.h.i.+mizu. Some of those in the “early” cycle were already into their second marriage. In the city, it was common to see single men in their thirties. Hirosue himself hadn’t thought about it much because there was no one to point the fact out to him. But once he was home, he was forced to be conscious about his age, whether he liked it or not.
Hirosue sped along the ocean sh.o.r.e. It was the end of April and the weather was getting warmer, but it was still cold on his moped with the wind blowing at him directly. He wasn’t going to let go of his nylon jacket just yet.
The ocean was beautiful, glittering in the soft rays of the afternoon sun. Hirosue stopped his motorcycle partway and sat down on the embankment to absently gaze out at the s.h.i.+ning water. Back in the city, surrounded by grey buildings, he had hardly ever stopped to look at the scenery.
Hirosue lingered there for about thirty minutes before returning home. When he arrived at the house, it was past four in the afternoon. His work at the factory started at seven in the morning and ended at three. Afterwards, he went out on deliveries. Since Hirosue could not drive a car, he took the motorcycle, which could only carry so much merchandise. With his load, the best he could manage were nearby retails stores or commodity centres, and so he was always the earliest to get back. Hirosue parked the motorcycle in the garage and entered through the back door of the house into the kitchen. He crouched in front of the fridge and was putting the cans of chuhai inside when he felt a heavy thump hit him on the back.
“Uncle!”
Hiroki, his brother’s first son, dangling off of him. The boy was in second grade, and quite the prankster.
“Hiroki, you’re heavy.”
“Let’s play video games,” Hiroki begged.
“Okay, but have you done your homework?”
Honest Hiroki suddenly fell silent.
“I’ll play with you if you’re done your homework,” Hirosue said.
“…I’ll do it after we play.”
“Hiroki!” Hirosue’s sister-in-law said sternly as she came into the kitchen.
“Ahh!” Hiroki cried as he flinched on Hirosue’s back.
“Look, you’re weighing Uncle Motofumi down. And you are to finish your homework first.”
Hiroki pouted. “We’re going to play together later. For sure,” he whispered in Hirosue’s ear. His mother gave a short sigh as she watched her son scurry out of the kitchen.
“I’m sorry, Motofumi. Hiroki’s always all over you.”
“Don’t worry about it. He’s cute. I never get bored around him.”
His sister-in-law s.h.i.+fted the baby in her arms as it began to fuss. Although she was used to child-rearing since she was onto her third one already, raising an infant seemed to be tiring work all the same. A piece of frazzled hair had fallen across her cheek.
“After this one was born, I haven’t been able to pay much attention to Hiroki,” she said. “His little brother, Yuuki, isn’t so bad, but Hiroki’s been sullen the whole time. I think he must beside himself with joy that you pay attention to him, Motofumi.”
“I like kids, so I don’t mind. Oh, would you like some tea?”
“I can pour that much myself,” his sister-in-law said wryly.
“Don’t worry. I’ll do it.”
Hirosue set out tea for two on the kitchen table.
“Thanks,” smiled his sister-in-law. After returning to the country, Hirosue moved back in with his parents. Both his brother and parents had been the ones to suggest it. Hirosue hadn’t lived with his family since leaving for Tokyo at eighteen. At first, he had been anxious about how life would be like with his parents, his brother and his wife, and their children. But contrary to his expectations, he fit right into their circle with ease.
When Hirosue moved out of his apartment, he had disposed of a quant.i.ty of old furniture and appliances. He had never been attached to material things, so his belongings turned out to be surprisingly few.
The house of his childhood was large, and since his room was still available, that was where he slept and woke now. At first he thought he would have to immediately start looking for a job once he came home. But his sister-in-law was too busy with her baby to go to work at the factory, and as a matter of course, Hirosue began to help out in her place. Although he did not get paid, his family was nice enough. They told him he did not need to pay for food and utilities.
“Hiroki’s just like my brother, don’t you think?” Hirosue said.
“Really?” his sister-in-law tilted her head, then chuckled. “You mean how they both like to do the fun stuff first and put off the boring stuff until later?”
They looked at each other and laughed. The baby―Hirosue’s niece―rocked in his sister-in-law’s arms. She was sleeping with her mouth half-open. When Hirosue gently touched her cheek, her little lips made chewing motions.
“She’s adorable.” A smile tugged at his lips.
“You should get married so you can have kids, too, Motofumi. I’m sure you’d be a good father. I can imagine you smothering your children with love.”
“Too bad I don’t have anyone to get married to,” Hirosue returned in his usual way. His smiling sister-in-law suddenly put on a grave face.
“But you dated people over there, right?”
It was Matsuoka’s face that crossed his mind. Although they had never dated as lovers, for some reason, he was the one whom Hirosue remembered.
“I did my fair share of dating. For my age, anyway.”
“And you didn’t find anyone you’d like to marry?”
Hirosue smiled wryly. “I was dumped by the person I loved most.”
Yoko Eto, whom he had loved so much, had disappeared. ―But she had turned out to be Matsuoka, so perhaps it was wrong to say ‘disappear’. She had transformed? No, not transform, Hirosue laughed inwardly. Perhaps all the live-action hero shows he had watched with Hiroki were influencing him.
“Well, maybe things didn’t work out with her, but didn’t you find anyone else?”
“I loved her a lot. I couldn’t move onto anyone else.”
“Everyone has their share of breakups,” said his sister-in-law simply. It was a typical phrase, yet for some reason Hirosue felt like he was being put on the spot.
“It doesn’t matter how much you love them,” his sister-in-law continued, “some people just aren’t meant to be together. It’s easier just to accept that it’s not going to work out.”
“I have accepted it. But I just can’t forget about her.”
Back when he had been in love with Yoko Eto, he had trembled with exhilaration; just being by her side had made him feel strangely fulfilled. In the past and in the future, she had been the only one to stir his emotions in this way.
“How long did you go out for?”
“We were friends at first. We dated for two months, I think.”
“That’s the stage in a relations.h.i.+p when things are most exciting.”
“Exciting?”
“Every relations.h.i.+p has ups and downs. All of them are fun at the outset. Maybe it’s harder for you to let go because yours ended at the height of things.”
Hirosue felt like someone had taken his special feelings―his own and only his own―and tossed them in the bargain bin. His feelings were nowhere near as superficial as that. He had loved her with all his heart. He wished he could say so, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to embarra.s.s himself by being too vehement about it.
“You know, Motofumi, you’re soft-spoken, and you have a gentle demeanour. You’re kind. That’s why it’s such a mystery to me why you’ve been single for this long. If I didn’t have Norifumi, I probably would have gotten in line for you. Did I just drop a bomb?” joked his sister-in-law, before laughing and saying, “You were actually really popular with the girls, weren’t you? Admit it.”
“I’m no good.”
Hirosue had only dated a handful of people before, and none of them lasted for more than half a year. More often than not, he was the one to receive a confession; yet, he was always the one being dumped. It was because he was tactless and clumsy at conversation. Matsuoka was about the only person who’d ever called him interesting.
“There was one person―” He did not know why, but he had a strong urge to talk about Matsuoka. “There was one person who told me they loved me a lot. I was really comfortable around them, and we’d go out to eat or spend our free time together a lot. That person told me they loved me, but I couldn’t see them in the romantic sense. When I told them how I couldn’t be more than friends, they told me they wouldn’t see me anymore. They said, if we stayed as friends, they’d have to watch me fall in love with someone else, and they wouldn’t be able to stand it.”
“I think I understand how she feels,” his sister-in-law murmured. “How long did you go out with her for?”
“We met each other two years ago. We only started meeting each other frequently for the past six months or so. But we weren’t dating. We were just friends.”
“I think I kind of feel sorry for her.” His sister-in-law dropped her gaze. “That means for the first year and a half, that girl had one-sided feelings, right? And just when things were looking good, she had to be told again that there was nothing more to it than being friends. I think that’s a pretty harsh blow.”
Hirosue remembered the last time they met, and how Matsuoka’s eyes had been red and damp.
“I wanted to fall in love, but…”
“You should have just married her to try it out. Things might have turned out better than you think.”
“Huh?” Hirosue exclaimed in surprise.
“If you’re going to live with someone, it needs to be someone you’re comfortable with rather than someone you love. When you’re in love, you’re busy flaring up and cooling down, and that’s not going to work if you’re living together. Compatibility is very important. Even if you love each other, if you’re incompatible, it’s always going to end badly.”
Hirosue suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable in his seat and s.h.i.+fted his bottom slightly. Would you say the same thing if you found out I was talking about a man? he thought derisively, then instantly felt disgusted with himself.
“With that person that I loved most, I thought of marriage, getting a house, having kids… but I just couldn’t imagine a life like that together.”
“You couldn’t imagine a domestic life? Was she that flashy?”
Matsuoka was trim and good-looking, but he was definitely not flashy.
“I finished my homework!” Hiroki came bursting into the kitchen. “This way, this way,” he said, yanking at Hirosue’s hand. It was dubious whether he had really done his homework in this short amount of time, but since a promise was a promise, Hirosue smiled wryly and followed after his nephew. While he played video games with Hiroki, he thought about Matsuoka.
He felt like he would never meet a person who would confess his love as devotedly as Matsuoka did. If Matsuoka had been a woman, there would have been no problem. Matsuoka was comfortable to be around, and he was someone who cared about him. Matsuoka loved and cherished him. Perhaps he would have ended up together with the man, just like his sister-in-law had said.
Both before and after dinner, Hiroki paid no attention whatsoever to his little brother, instead sticking to Hirosue constantly and never letting him out of his sight. After thoroughly horsing around to the point of exhaustion, Hiroki fell asleep at Hirosue’s feet. Hirosue’s older brother carried him to his room before returning from the kitchen with a can of beer.
“Sorry for making you put up with that every night,” he said, offering the can to Hirosue.
Their parents were resting in the far room, and Hirosue’s sister-in-law was tucking the baby in in the next room. Hirosue and his older brother were the only ones in the living room. His older brother swigged about half of his can before letting out a great sigh.
“Hiroki’s been jumping up and down with glee ever since you came home. He’s always liked you, but now he’s stuck to you like glue instead of me. Dad here is feeling a little lonely.”
“I just make a good playmate, that’s all.”
Hirosue’s older brother glanced left and right before sneaking out a cigarette.
“Only one,” he said, as he opened the window and lit it. Hirosue could hear the frogs croaking outside. The air was cool, and the sounds of the night were peaceful. The slight drowsiness he felt, perhaps from the beer, was comforting. Every day was regular and gentle. Being where he was now, he could really tell just how stressful life in the city had been for him.
“Oh, yeah, I saw you this evening, I think, on the way to my delivery,” his brother said as he tilted his head up and let out a puff of smoke. “You were at the embankment, weren’t you?”
“Yeah. I was looking at the ocean because it was pretty.”
His brother laughed.
“I remember back in the day, you used to s.p.a.ce out like that once in a while.”
“Really?”
“Really. I think it was when you were in primary school. We got worried because you weren’t coming home, so we went out to look for you. We found you sleeping on the beach. You said you got drowsy while watching the ocean. Both Mom and Dad were rolling their eyes.”
Hirosue didn’t remember very clearly, but it sounded vaguely familiar.
“When you phoned to say you wanted to come home, to be honest, I was wondering what you’d do since there are no jobs here. But never mind jobs. Maybe life in the country is more suited for you. You’re looking a lot better now than when you first came back. My wife has a lot on her hands in the house, with the baby and all, and Mom and Dad are getting on in their years, too. So you’ve actually been a great help.”
“I can’t just be a freeloader, so,” Hirosue smiled briefly.
“But you’ve been working full s.h.i.+fts every day at the factory. I wish I could give you even a little bit of a wage, but…”
“I’m already grateful that you’re letting me stay here. Don’t worry about it.”
Hearing the baby wailing on the other side of the sliding doors, his brother hastily put out his cigarette.
“―Do you plan to go back to the city at all?”
Hirosue took a drink of beer. This peaceful life was something he could not even imagine back when he was in the city. Over there, the seasons were quick to change, and it was always very busy. Every person had his place; perhaps he had simply not been cut out for urban life.
If he had any lingering regret concerning the city, it was―
“If you want to stay here, you can. Mom and Dad both seem happy to have you here. I’ll try asking some friends if they know any good job openings. Oh, say,” his brother said suddenly, thumping his knee in recollection. “Aunt Yos.h.i.+ko three houses down says there’s a girl she wants to introduce you to. Apparently she’s just come back from the city and she’s opened her own beauty salon in the next town over. She’s thirty-three and single. She’s never been married, and you two are pretty close in age. I also hear she’s quite a looker.”
“Maybe not so soon,” Hirosue said hesitantly.
Hirosue’s brother slid his knees across the floor as he leaned in towards him. “Don’t think too much about it. Why not just meet up with her to see what she’s like?”
Hirosue hastily excused himself, saying he was sleepy, and fled to his room. He went up to the second floor and closed the sliding door behind him. He could faintly hear the baby crying downstairs.
When he lay down on the bed, he could see the bookshelf by the window. In it were books he used to read in school, and textbooks he used to study from. Looking at them made him almost feel like the place was suspended in time.
Here was a life unlike one when he had been working at the office, when he was constantly being crushed by his complex towards his inability. In this house, he had his own place and role to play. Every man had his place. Perhaps the office was not the place for him. No―he had just not been the right man for the office.
Once the sources of his stress were behind him, they swiftly became distant things. Even their outlines began to blur, making him wonder what all his fuss had been about. It made him realize that he had been obsessed and preoccupied by something that had no real form. But to call it foolish was a harsh thing to say to his past, brooding self.
He was suddenly reminded of his cell phone, and picked it up. He never had many friends with whom he exchanged e-mails, and once he withdrew into the country, communication stopped altogether. Today, like every other, yielded no new calls or e-mails. But he did not find it particularly lonely.
Hirosue went through his e-mail history. Almost all of them were from Matsuoka until April, where it ended abruptly. Matsuoka had said he wouldn’t e-mail or call anymore, and he had kept his word. Hirosue had received no contact from him whatsoever. Hirosue rolled over onto his back and looked up at the wood-panelled ceiling. He recalled the inn that he and Matsuoka had stayed at together on their trip.
What if, he imagined. What if he and Matsuoka had dated as lovers? What would have happened then? Would they kiss, have s.e.x, and live together? He couldn’t even imagine it.
Then again, perhaps it would be more like the time they went on that overnight trip together. They would lay out their futons together, talk about nothing in particular, laugh… would that have become a daily routine?
Hirosue reckoned his sister-in-law’s words that afternoon were still lingering in a corner of his head. Perhaps that was why he was thinking about these things.
‘You should have just married her to try it out.’
It wasn’t that easy. This was another man he was talking about. Although he did harbour something akin to affection towards Matsuoka, when they had moved to the next stage of physical intimacy, an uncontrollable part of him had rejected the man. It was the sensation of something that a woman was not supposed to have. Hirosue put a hand to his chin. He could feel the slight grittiness of his stubble. In truth, he did not even remember why he had felt so repulsed.
Even when he had seen Matsuoka’s naked body―and to be crude, his genitals―he had not felt anything noteworthy. He had only thought of it exactly as it appeared before his eyes―a male body. He had already confirmed that fact at the hot springs.
Rather than the carnal aspects, Hirosue felt endearment for Matsuoka in the way he laughed, or in the way the man gazed at him, or in the subtle expressions he showed. Clearly there was something wrong with him to think of a man like this, but a part of him definitely did feel that way.
The more he mulled over it, the more his thoughts became a jumbled, nonsensical mess. The bottom line was that he was not able to make Matsuoka his lover. But he had liked him as a friend. The end.
As for lingering attachments to the city―if he had any, they only concerned Matsuoka. When they parted, he had made Matsuoka cry―that was it. Matsuoka had asked if Hirosue had thought of him when he decided to go back to the country. I should have said “I did”, even if it was a lie. But at the time, he had been too caught up in his own feelings to show any consideration.
At the very least, he felt like he should have told Matsuoka his parents’ home address and phone number. Or, if not, that he would let him know once things settled down. Then, he wouldn’t have hurt the man enough to make him cry. But in the end, Matsuoka had been the one to say that Hirosue didn’t have to tell him.
He wanted to speak with Matsuoka. Now that he was free of the impediment that was his company, he felt like he could talk to Matsuoka with ease. He wanted to apologize for acting cold because of his petty pride. He also wanted to tell the man about his hometown. He felt like Matsuoka would listen.
But he was hesitant to cra.s.sly call or e-mail the man when he had precisely cut off all contact because they could not be lovers―because he did not want to be friends. Even so, Hirosue had a feeling that once he did get in touch, Matsuoka would interact with him just like he used to.
Although he never recalled anything about his company or work, Hirosue often recalled things about Matsuoka. In fact, memories of Matsuoka were the only ones that ever came to his mind.
The wedding of Hirosue’s best friend, s.h.i.+mizu, went through a solemn ceremony and reception before switching to an informal cla.s.s reunion at the after-party. Since the ceremony was local, all the invited guests were already acquainted with each other. The pair at the centre of the day were all but ignored as the guests grouped off and enjoyed themselves as they pleased. The atmosphere of the party was new and refres.h.i.+ng to Hirosue, who had not had a chance to eat out since quitting his company. He also enjoyed himself chatting with some old friends whom he hadn’t seen in a long time.
s.h.i.+mizu’s wife was a little plump, a woman one would call “cute” rather than “pretty”. She was in her early twenties and a decade younger than the groom. “If this was ten years earlier, it would be against the law,” the guests teased with a mix of envy, and the topic was the joke of the day.
s.h.i.+mizu had already consumed a generous amount of alcohol at the wedding hall, thanks to the encouragement of those around him. By the time they moved to a bar for their after-party, he was quite drunk. Hirosue had been drinking quietly in a corner when s.h.i.+mizu yanked him out of his seat and made a loud declaration for all to hear.
“When this guy here gets married, I’m going to give a speech for him! So please, someone find him a girl!” he announced, in a completely unasked-for PR pitch.
Thanks to s.h.i.+mizu, Hirosue was approached by about five people who asked him why he wasn’t getting married. Each time, he brushed them off vaguely by telling them he hadn’t quite found the right time yet.
“How about my little sister?” one person suggested. Hirosue couldn’t tell if he was serious or kidding, and had a hard time finding a way to politely turn him down. Partway through, the groom pa.s.sed out drunk, and was taken home by the bride. The party continued even after the pair of honour had left, and finally wrapped up when the first trains had started running the next morning.
Hirosue walked home with a primary-school friend in the cold morning air and the light of the dawn. He had quite a way to walk until his house, but it wasn’t far enough to take a taxi.
On the way, they emerged on a road that ran along the seaside, and the air was suddenly filled with the briny scent of the ocean. The waves were high and the wind was strong. The ocean waters were a little rough. Despite Hirosue’s warning that it was dangerous, his childhood friend climbed up and walked along the embankment.
“You’re lucky to be single, you know,” he said. “You’re free to do anything you want. It’s nice having a family, but you have to deal with a bunch of petty troubles that aren’t even your own. They just keep s...o...b..lling.”
His friend had three children and had just been promoted to section manager this year. His hair, as if to reflect his troubles, was starting to thin. His body, in contrast, had gained a generous amount of flesh around his girth.
“It’s not that I regret getting married,” his friend added. His thick body staggered on the embankment, and Hirosue hastily clung to the man’s legs. By squatting down, he somehow managed to prevent the man from falling over the embankment onto the sand on the other side. The embankment itself was quite towering at five metres. Even if his childhood friend fell into the sand, he would probably sustain quite serious injuries. Hirosue’s heart had nearly stopped with fear.
“I told you it was dangerous,” he told his friend sternly. The man slumped his shoulders and bowed his head.
“―You know, there was this girl I used to love,” he said abruptly, on a completely different tangent. “It must have been ten some-odd years ago. When I met her, I was already dating my wife, and she was also dating someone else, so I couldn’t tell her I loved her. But I could tell she had a thing for me. I still wonder sometimes about what would have happened if I’d told her I’d loved her. And if it’d gone well, I wonder if my life would have changed.”
The friend laughed.
“I dated a good number of girls until I got married, you know. But she’s the only one I still remember. Maybe I should have told her back then that I loved her. Maybe I regret not saying anything, and that’s why I still can’t let go.”
Hirosue let out a small sigh before setting his bottom down beside his friend’s round figure. He lapsed deep into thought as he gazed at the ocean.
“Maybe the fact that nothing ever happened is why you keep imagining what would have or could have happened.”
“Imagine?” his friend said, turning towards him.
“The less you know about a person, the more you can imagine things about her. The more you can imagine, the more hope you can have.”
His friend smiled wryly.
“Imagination, huh. But imagination’s not reality, is it? Maybe I was idealizing her.”
Hirosue felt a snag in his heart at the word “idealize”. Someone had told him before that his standards were too high. It had been―his brother, perhaps? He felt like Hayama had also said something similar. Yes, it was when he had told her about Yoko Eto. Apart from the fact that she was actually Matsuoka, Yoko Eto was always flawless in his memories.
If his friend’s memories of that woman was a product of his idealization, what was his Yoko Eto? The difference that set him and his friend apart was that he had actually dated Yoko Eto. She was not an ideal. She was reality.
“I had a girl like that in my life, too,” Hirosue said. “I loved her so much, I couldn’t forget about her.”
His friend slowly turned towards him. “And?”
“And? And nothing. We just dated for a bit.”
“Why didn’t you get married?”
Hirosue was stuck for words. The woman with whom he had seriously considered marriage with was actually a man. His friend seemed to interpret Hirosue’s silence for something else.
“Wait, was it an affair? You don’t seem like the type, though.”
Hirosue smiled wryly. “No, it wasn’t. But a lot of things happened.”
“You’re lucky, though,” his friend said.
“Why?”
“Why? Because you’re single. You still have a chance to get back together with her. Oh―or wait, is she going out with someone else now? Or did she get married?”
“She’s single. Whether she’s dating anyone else or not―I don’t know. I couldn’t say.”
They had parted at the end of March, when the air had still been chilly. Matsuoka, who seldom raised his voice, had laid bare his emotions, yelled, and said that he loved him.
Hirosue couldn’t help but feel like Matsuoka still had feelings for him. Was he simply interpreting things conveniently? It was no surprise if Matsuoka was dating someone else now. Hayama had told him she loved him, and yet had partaken in a marriage interview and found her life partner not even a month after they broke up.
Come to think of it―he remembered. He had broken up once with Yoko Eto when he found out she was Matsuoka. He had thought that Matsuoka had been toying with him by disguising as a woman. Later, he would find out that it was not true, and that Matsuoka had been serious in his own way. After they broke up, Hirosue had been foolish enough to run into Matsuoka at a gathering meant to introduce Matsuoka to a girl. In those few months when they had stopped seeing each other, Matsuoka had also been looking for someone else.
That was why it was only natural if Matsuoka was dating someone else right now. He had no obligation to Hirosue, who had told him he could not be his lover, and had left without even telling him his address.
Matsuoka with someone else―he did not even want to imagine it. He did not want to see Matsuoka like that. Why didn’t he? Was he sore to lose a person who claimed to love him so much? Even while knowing that he could not be a romantic partner to Matsuoka, no matter how much love Matsuoka directed at him?
He had never hated Matsuoka. Although they had parted ways because Matsuoka had said they couldn’t be friends, if he hadn’t said so, Hirosue would have liked to continue their friends.h.i.+p.
“So the girl I liked,” his friend continued, “she got married. Not to my friend, though. Apparently she’s in Saitama right now.” The man hopped off the embankment onto the sidewalk with a grunt. “She used to be really pretty. But I look nothing like I used to with all this extra weight. If we saw each other now, with our ages written clearly across our faces, maybe the disappointment would make me finally get over her.”
That’s the harsh way to go about it, Hirosue remarked inwardly. His friend gave a great stretch towards the sky.
“Ah, never mind,” he said. “It’s a man’s innocent romance, and I’ll keep it tucked away in my heart as a beautiful memory. People still need to dream, you know.” Before they parted ways, his friend asked him to keep quiet to his wife about his story of a man’s innocent romance. Hirosue laughed and told him he would.
“I don’t regret getting married, you know. But there’s always s.p.a.ce in a man’s heart for innocent love. Anyway, s.h.i.+mizu’s wedding yesterday―great day, huh? And she’s a decade younger than him―he’s really putting himself out there. Your turn next, eh?”
Hirosue saw his friend off as the man made his way to the public apartment complexes. He then walked by himself along the seaside. In the light of the rising sun, he stopped and took in his surroundings. There was really nothing at all. Nothing here, apart from the ocean, the mountains, and the small village.
He suddenly remembered that Matsuoka had mentioned wanting to visit the countryside.I should have invited him, he thought. Even though there was nothing here, Matsuoka had said he wanted to come. But Hirosue had a feeling that even if Matsuoka did come, the scenery would not match him very well.
When Hirosue got home, his sister-in-law was up and making breakfast. Although he had told her he would be coming home late, he hadn’t expected to be coming back the next morning. He felt a little awkward.
“Welcome home, Mr. Out-All-Night,” she quipped as soon as their eyes met.
“Sorry,” Hirosue apologized. His sister-in-law giggled.
“Weddings over here can get pretty crazy with the after-parties. Norifumi was saying you might be coming home the next morning. Which brings me to this message from your big brother: you can take the day off work.”
“But―”
His sister-in-law gave a cheerful shrug. “Why not? You have your big brother’s permission. I think he feels bad that you’ve been helping out nonstop ever since coming home, Motofumi.”
His sister-in-law then asked if he would like breakfast, but Hirosue graciously declined. Without even bothering to take a bath, he collapsed onto his bed still wearing his suit. He felt something hard and b.u.mpy around his hip, and took it out wondering what it was. It turned out to be his cell phone.
The light was flas.h.i.+ng, signalling a new e-mail. Hirosue swallowed hard. Perhaps it was from Matsuoka. Perhaps it said he wanted to talk, or that he wanted to meet. He wouldn’t know what to do if Matsuoka said he loved him, but if he was satisfied with just meeting up, Hirosue certainly wanted to meet. He also wanted to talk with Matsuoka.
Hirosue opened the message. When he saw the name that appeared on the screen, he was truthfully disappointed. It was not from Matsuoka; it was from Hayama. It said she wanted to talk to him about something, and asked for a good time to call. She didn’t seem to be in a rush, and it was still seven-thirty in the morning. Hirosue closed his cell phone with a snap.
Why had he a.s.sumed it was from Matsuoka? The man had said he would never e-mail or call him again. They hadn’t been in touch for over a month and a half; what had made him think that today would be any different? Was it because he had been thinking of Matsuoka on the way home? Or because he had been thinking about how much he wanted to speak to him?
Hirosue placed his cell phone at his bedside. He rolled around in bed until he ended up falling asleep. He did not get back to Hayama until the afternoon.
It was sunny most of the time in May. As soon as they entered June, it began to rain for days on end, and the temperature remained uncharacteristically chilly. When it rained, Hirosue had to take special care not to get his delivery wet, which required more mental energy. That, on top of the chill, caused Hirosue to come down with a cold at this strange time of the year.
July rolled around just as he was finally fully recovered. The sun’s rays suddenly turned scorching, and the temperature and humidity skyrocketed. Since Hirosue’s room had no air conditioning, with every day that pa.s.sed, it became harder to sleep at night.
When Hirosue had first come back to the country, his cell phone had been so insignificant he would often forget where he put it; nowadays, he carried it around everywhere. He opened it several times a day to check for new calls or e-mails, even when it didn’t ring. He kept expecting Matsuoka to contact him.
Back in mid-May, Hayama got in touch with him to ask if he would attend her wedding. Although he did want to see Hayama in her bridal outfit, he was hesitant to give an answer. He reckoned the groom would not be very eager to invite a man who dated Hayama in the past.
When Hirosue truthfully told her so, Hayama laughed on the other end of the line.
“I won’t tell him we used to go out. But even if he knew, I don’t think he’d mind. He has a big heart,” she rea.s.sured him. “One of the guests we invited cancelled, so we had an empty seat. That’s when he told me I should invite someone I want to see. You’ve moved back to the country, right, Hirosue? When I thought about how this might be our last chance to meet up again, I started wanting to see your face.”
When she said it like that, it made Hirosue want to see her, too. He told her he would be very glad to attend. He suddenly wondered if Matsuoka would be attending. Hayama and Matsuoka were in the same cohort and department. They were also close. It was very likely that he had been invited as well. Hirosue wanted to know, but he felt like it would be poor manners to ask about specific guests by name. He sent out feelers in a roundabout way instead.
“Are there a lot of people coming from your work?”
“I’ve only invited my bosses and a few of the girls. The ceremony itself isn’t going to be very big. Most of the people from Sales aren’t going to show up until the after-party. It’s easier to have a relaxed conversation there than at the ceremony.”
If her boss and the girls were the only ones attending, Matsuoka was probably not invited. It looked like he would not have a chance to see the man at the wedding. Perhaps Matsuoka was coming to the after-party, but Hirosue knew he would only feel uncomfortable being the only one from a different department. That was probably why Hayama had invited him to the wedding and not the after-party.
As soon as Hirosue had the excuse to go back to Tokyo for the wedding, his desire to see Matsuoka became stronger by the day―enough to surprise him. These days, he often remembered when they used to meet up after work to go out for dinner. They would eat, chat about everyday things―it had been fun. But he knew it was cruel to ask Matsuoka to meet with him as a friend again when he had ceased all contact precisely because he didn’t want to be friends.
That was why he eagerly awaited Matsuoka to get in touch with him first. Although he could not ask Matsuoka to meet him, they would be able to see each other if Matsuoka was the one to bring it up. If Matsuoka initiated it, it would be a sign that he had acknowledged that they could still be friends. Hirosue’s trip to Tokyo was the perfect opportunity.
Hirosue continued to wait for word from Matsuoka until the day before Hayama’s wedding. The ceremony was set to start at a late hour of the day, so Hirosue planned to leave his house in the morning.
That night, Hirosue did an unusual thing and had j.a.panese sake with his dinner, getting pleasantly drunk.
“Are you sure you should have had that much to drink?” asked his sister-in-law worriedly. Hirosue paid no mind to her and climbed unsteadily up the stairs. Once he returned to his room, he clawed for his phone.
He let his drunken bravery take hold as he wrote an e-mail to Matsuoka.
‘It’s been a while. I hope you’re well. I’ll be going to Tokyo tomorrow for Ms. Hayama’s wedding. I plan to stay in the city on Sat.u.r.day and Sunday, and I was wondering if we could meet and have a chat if you have the time.’
He debated greatly over how to phrase it, and ended up truthfully writing that he wanted to meet and talk. Would he confuse and hurt Matsuoka again by sending this kind of e-mail? Would the man get angry at him and ask him why he was getting in touch when he was trying to forget about him? Hirosue still wanted to see him. He wanted to talk to him. He could not understand why he was so stubbornly attached to Matsuoka when he didn’t see the man as a romantic interest.
The same thing had happened once before. He had not been able to stop thinking about Matsuoka, and the thoughts filling his head had made him unable to sit still. Hirosue had ended up going to the station to wait for Matsuoka to go home. It wasn’t really waiting―he had only watched the man from the opposite platform. But that time, too, he had been unsure of his feelings, and because he was unsure, he had not been able to approach Matsuoka. Every day, he only gazed at the man as he made his way home. Somewhere, he expected that by continuing to observe him, he would somehow arrive at an answer.
What was he feeling now, then? What was his desire to see the man? These feelings felt a touch too warm to be those of friends.h.i.+p. He had given the final verdict by saying it was physically impossible; was he still going to claim that he was in love?
He wasn’t going to get an answer, no matter how much he mulled over his emotions inside his head. He didn’t even know what that answer was supposed to be. His head started to hurt from thinking too much. The fastest, easiest way was to see Matsuoka in person. But in order to see him, he had to get in touch with him. He had to send an e-mail. Perhaps they wouldn’t be able to meet on Sat.u.r.day because of the wedding―in that case, they could meet on Sunday. But it was the weekend. Perhaps Matsuoka had plans. Yet, Hirosue had a feeling that if he were to tell Matsuoka he wanted to see him, the man would cancel his plans so they could meet. But even if Matsuoka prioritized him, he might not be able to change his plans on such short notice. That was why Hirosue had to get in touch sometime today, at the latest―
Empowered by drink, Hirosue pushed the send b.u.t.ton which he had hesitated to press these past few days. He closed his cell phone and pressed it against his forehead, waiting for a reply. An e-mail came almost immediately, making his heart nearly stop with surprise. He hastily opened his cell phone.
“―What?”
The e-mail had come back with an error message. Hirosue had sent it in reply to an e-mail from Matsuoka, so there was no way the address could be wrong. He tried sending it again, but that also came back. Next, instead of replying, he sent it through the address in his phone book, but the result was the same. The e-mail came back with an error.
The inebriation which had empowered his recklessness quickly drained away from him. Why wasn’t the e-mail getting through? Hirosue tightly clutched his cell phone.
He had a guess in mind, so he called the number to test it. He would probably regret it regardless of whether he called or not; if so, he might as well call―that made him take the leap. ―The phone did ring. But the person who answered it was not Matsuoka. It was a complete stranger.
There was no doubt about it. Matsuoka had changed his e-mail address and phone number, and Hirosue had not received notice of the change. Matsuoka had said he would never call or e-mail again; perhaps it was only natural that Hirosue wasn’t notified.
He had thought that one b.u.t.ton press was all it took to get through to Matsuoka―that as long as he, Hirosue, had the guts to make that step, he would be able to see the man easily. But when he could not get in touch, Matsuoka suddenly seemed much further away. This was what Matsuoka had meant when he said he would never contact him again―this was his resolve, laid plain and bare before Hirosue’s face.
Maybe Matsuoka was trying to forget him. ―No, Matsuoka was trying to forget him. Hirosue could only sit in stunned silence at the immovable fact before him.