Volume 1 - CH 7

Matsuoka heartily regretted sleeping with Hirosue. But as time went by, he was able to convince himself that it was better that things had ended this way. There was no room for lingering attachments in the way it had ended; the sex couldn’t be worse, and he was beyond unimpressed by the man’s insensitive attitude.

Now that Matsuoka thought about it rationally, there was clearly something wrong with him, too. He had continued to meet up with the man dressed as a woman, and the more the man wooed him, the more carried away he had become. Even though Hirosue was completely under the impression that he was a woman, Matsuoka had still believed that their romance would continue even after he divulged that he was a man. Matsuoka was mature enough to know the difference between someone’s outwardly attitude and his actual feelings. It didn’t take much thinking to see that such a relationship was bound to end badly.

Sometimes everything seemed to go wrong, as if it were tumbling down a slope, just like how there were ups and downs in how well things went at work. But most things passed; he just had to wait it out. Eventually, he would no longer be able to recall what happened, or even what had made it a bad ordeal. This must be in the same category,Matsuoka thought. I just have to wait for time to solve everything.

A little past mid-April, a week after he had parted ways with Hirosue, Matsuoka discarded all of his women’s clothes, shoes, and wig. Altogether, it amounted to two large garbage bags. Amidst a mixture of surprise and futility, Matsuoka somehow found it funny. By obliterating every shred and sign of his past from his apartment, he pressed his internal reset button to return to his normal life.

Starting that day, Matsuoka began to throw himself into his work. He made almost twice as many sales visits as his co-workers, and his performance improved significantly. He dashed about outside from morning to late at night. Matsuoka’s co-workers teased him for suddenly transforming into a man who dedicated every drop of blood to his work. “You’re working awfully hard. Are you saving up for something? Getting married, by any chance?” they joked. Matsuoka glossed it over with a vague smile.

He knew it wasn’t going to be that easy to get over Hirosue. But he wished he could, and he wished he could get over him quickly. He immersed himself in work in order to distract himself, but had no success in achieving that goal. Even if he worked himself to the bone and his body felt as heavy and limp as mud, one little slip of his mind was enough to make him remember. It usually came before he went to sleep, and once he fell into the rut of self-loathing, the night became an unbearably endless one.

Golden Week came and went; the rainy season arrived; the newscasters on television celebrated its passing, and the dizzying rays of the sun glared down upon them. But still, things did not change.

One thing that did pay off was his work performance. Matsuoka placed first in his department for the most sales contracts won for two months in a row. His boss complimented him, and Matsuoka himself was glad for it, but he could not give himself wholly to his happiness. Even while chatting or laughing with his co-workers, he was always aware of the void in his feelings. The draft always lowered his emotional temperature as it whistled through the hole in his heart.

One day past mid-July, Hayama, an administrative staff for the sales department, returned from her temporary assignment at Koishikawa Laboratory. Headquarters had received the request from Koishikawa Laboratory at the end of April. Two workers had resigned soon after starting work, and Koishikawa was short-staffed. They asked for one administrative staff to fill in for two months until a worker returned from maternity leave.

Koishikawa asked for an administrator who was not in their first year of work―someone who could be put to work right away. As a result, headquarters had sent Hayama, an experienced administrator and in Matsuoka’s cohort.

“It’s so far,” Hayama had complained freely before being transferred, “and I know nothing about the place. I feel like once they send me over there, I’m never going to be able to come back.” Hearing about Koishikawa reminded Matsuoka of Hirosue, and made his spirits sink instantly.

“Don’t worry, two months will pass by in a flash,” Matsuoka consoled her nonetheless, careful not to let his unhappiness show.

That day, Matsuoka was out of the office from morning to afternoon on sales visits. He had planned to pay visits to a few more of his regular clients, but the heat was so unbearable that he wrapped up partway and returned to the office. In the cool, air-conditioned room, he immersed himself in the mountain of paperwork that he had amassed. Suddenly, he heard a familiar voice that he had not heard in a while.

“Matsuoka,” said the voice behind him.

Matsuoka turned around to see a smiling Hayama standing there. It had been almost two months since he last saw her.

“Oh, you’re back.”

“Yup. You’re stuck with me again.”

Her appearance had changed a little. Before, her makeup had been a little more dynamic; now, it was softer.

“What’s up with that?” Hayama pointed at Matsuoka’s chin.

“Looks good, doesn’t it? I’ve always wanted to try it out.” Matsuoka stroked the short stubble on his chin.

“Well, it does suit you, but…” Hayama trailed off in an unsatisfied way.

“I cropped my hair short, too. I want to go for a more rugged look for the summer. So far I’m getting mixed reactions from clients, but it does make a good topic for conversation.”

“I think I like how you looked before,” Hayama murmured in slight disappointment. “You’re okay with coffee for three o’clock break, right?” she then asked, apparently in charge of preparing the beverages that day.

“Yeah,” Matsuoka answered offhandedly before remembering that he had been avoiding coffee lately because his stomach wasn’t doing well. Hayama was already nowhere to be seen on the floor. Matsuoka went after her to the kitchenette at the end of the hallway. Hayama was pouring hot water from the dispenser into a teapot. Apparently hearing his footsteps, she turned around before Matsuoka called out to her.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ll pass on the coffee. Can you make it tea instead?”

“Sure thing,” Hayama said, then peered into Matsuoka’s face. “You know, you don’t look very well.”

“Huh? Really?” Matsuoka reflexively touched his cheek.

“I didn’t notice at first because I was too distracted by your goatee, but you’ve lost weight haven’t you? I heard about how you got the highest number of new contracts for May and June. Are you sure you’re not working too much?”

Matsuoka smiled vaguely like he had been doing at everyone else so far.

“There are rumours going around with the girls, you know,” Hayama continued. “They think you must be getting married, seeing the way you’re working these days. There must be something you’re saving up for.”

Matsuoka hunched his shoulders. “If only I had someone to get married to. I’m just really into my job right now. I enjoy getting these contracts.”

Hayama paused her pouring for a moment and appeared to think a little. “Then, you’re not going out with anyone right now?”

“Nope. I don’t know what these girls are thinking, letting a stud like me stay single.”

Hayama laughed out loud. “There are a lot of girls in administration who have a crush on you, you know. But they tell me they never get a chance to talk to you because you always go away on your sales rounds and never come back.”

Matsuoka could tell that some girls had feelings towards him; he was pretty sensitive to that kind of vibe. If a girl approached him who seemed to have that kind of intent, he always wormed his way out of it. He couldn’t bring himself to date someone just yet.

“Actually, I know a really nice girl. She’s my friend.”

Matsuoka had been careful to avoid turning the conversation to relationships, but he was unprepared for this ambush. He swore inwardly.

“She’s three years younger than me and works at an online shopping company. She’s cute and has a really nice personality, but she’s super shy. She says she’s never even dated before.” Hayama was looking at him with an earnest gaze.

“How do you feel about meeting up with her, Matsuoka?”

It would be only natural for him to jump at the chance, considering how he had been acting up until now. That made it all the more difficult to come up with a solid excuse to refuse. Matsuoka cast his thoughts around desperately.

“She and I are really close, so I didn’t want to introduce her to just anyone. But I’ve always thought you’d be a good guy for her, Matsuoka.”

“That’s a lot of pressure,” Matsuoka joked. “Sure, I’m friendly, but I can be pretty careless. And…” Matsuoka went on to voice all the shortcomings he could think of, but Hayama was decisive in her words.

“Matsuoka, you’re a nice guy. You might say stuff like that, but deep down, you’re sincere.”

When Matsuoka was silent, Hayama hastily tacked on some words.

“Oh, but if you don’t want to, I won’t force you. It’s all just me thinking you two would be good together. I haven’t told her anything.”

The air between them was making it hard for him to say no.

“Why don’t you just try meeting her? She might be reluctant to jump right into dating, too, so we can go out to eat a couple of times with a group of friends.”

As long as we’re not alone together. The idea of a compromise flitted across his heart. It was hard to say no right here, and if he agreed to meet her just once, he’d be fulfilling his obligation. He could always back out of it later, claiming that they just didn’t hit it off.

“Well, since you’ve suggested it, why not? I’ll meet up with her,” he murmured. Hayama’s face lit up with joy.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Ask your friend for her schedule. Let me know once you find out a date that’s good. I’ll make sure I don’t work overtime that day.”

Since they had reached a break in their conversation, Matsuoka left the kitchenette and returned to his desk. In an unexpected turn of events, he was now going to be introduced to a girl. His spirits sank at the result he had bestowed upon himself, but the more he thought about it, the more he began to think that it was nothing to be so serious about.

It had been a while since he had shared a meal with someone. No one had invited him to, and he had not been in the mood to himself.

He had focused solely on working hard. He had expected the extra strain he placed upon himself to pay off by bringing oblivion even a second sooner. But he was not getting the results he had hoped for.

Maybe he had no choice but to wait for the memory to fade gradually as it took its natural course. Perhaps being introduced to a girl was one part of that. Meeting and talking to someone completely new was, perhaps, not enough to make him move on, but at least a chance for a change of scene.

Three days ago, Hayama had told him she wanted to introduce him to a girl. Apparently she had gotten in touch with the friend immediately afterwards, for the next day, she got back to him with plans for dinner―Friday night, at seven o’clock.

On the day of, Matsuoka finished all of his work at six-thirty, and left the office with Hayama. Dusk was falling around them. The absence of the sun made the heat a little more bearable, but the humidity still made him want to claw at his throat. Matsuoka was itching to knock back a cold one.

Their meeting spot was an Italian restaurant one station away from the office. Red bricks made for a stylish interior decor and it was reminiscent of a garden. Many of the guests were groups of young women or couples. Although it was crowded inside, they were immediately shown to a four-seat table since Hayama had a reservation.

Hayama glanced around. “I don’t think she’s here yet,” she said, then exhaled shortly. When her eyes met with Matsuoka’s, she pointed to the small, oval-shaped glasses he was wearing.

“What’s with those?”

“They’re fake,” Matsuoka answered. “I needed something to balance my face with the stubble.” He lifted his glasses a little. “Don’t I look better with them?”

“Hmmm,” Hayama said, wrinkling her brow. “You’ve got a pretty face, so you look good in anything. But that doesn’t seem like your style.”

“Am I trying too hard?” Matsuoka joked. Hayama laughed out loud in response. While they were talking, a waiter in black brought a long-haired girl to their table.

“A member of your party is here,” he announced. The girl wore a casual outfit of a simple black jersey shirt with jeans, and had a canvas bag slung over her right shoulder. If she had chosen to wear this, aware that she was going to meet with a man, she was either unconcerned with appearances, or was simply not interested in fashion.

“I came straight from work, so I didn’t have time to change. I’m sorry.”

Matsuoka glanced at her face, but not obviously enough to make her feel awkward. The girl did not even make eye contact with Matsuoka as she continued talking to Hayama.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hayama said. “Let me introduce you two. This here across from me is Yosuke Matsuoka, who’s a salesman in the same department as me.”

When the girl’s gaze finally turned on him, Matsuoka flashed her a welcoming smile he usually reserved for his best clients.

“Hi. I’m Matsuoka.”

The girl kept her eyes lowered and did not look at Matsuoka as she ducked her head slightly.

“This is Mako Fujimoto. She was an underclassman of mine at university.”

“…Hello.” Her voice trembled as she finally lifted her doe-eyed gaze to meet his. She had a cute face, but her cheeks were oddly stiff from nervousness. This might be pretty tough if she can’t even give a friendly smile, Matsuoka thought inwardly. Fujimoto made to sit down beside Hayama, but was gently reprimanded.

“Your spot’s on the other side, Mako,” said Hayama, and Fujimoto sat down beside Matsuoka.

Just then, Hayama’s cell phone rang, and she stood up. “Excuse me for a bit,” she said as she answered it. As soon as they were alone together, the tension became palpable as it radiated from Fujimoto’s body.

“Are you nervous, by any chance?” Matsuoka said to her. She kept her eyes ahead as she shook her head. Matsuoka had never interacted with a girl who was so unused to the opposite sex. Her attempt to put on a brave face was strangely pitiful to watch, and drew Matsuoka’s interest.

“You know, I just went through a breakup.” He caught the gaze that moved towards him. Matsuoka grinned sheepishly. “Not that that means anything. But don’t worry about me and just enjoy yourself. When I see people looking happy and having a good time, it lifts my mood, too.”

He almost felt sucked in by her large eyes as they watched him inquisitively. Gradually, Matsuoka was overcome with an indescribable awkwardness. He averted his gaze so as not to be unnatural.

“Hayama’s taking pretty long, isn’t she?” he said, diverting her attention. “Why don’t we start choosing drinks? What do you like?”

Hayama came back just as they opened the menus.

“Let’s go ahead and get started,” she said, taking a seat. Even after they finished giving orders, Hayama constantly checked the restaurant entrance in a restless manner.

“Who else is coming?” Matsuoka asked. Hayama continued to glance at the entrance.

“You see…” she began, then made a small exclamation. Her face instantly lit up in a smile. “There he is.”

When Matsuoka saw the man being led over by the waiter, his breath caught in astonishment. His eyes forgot to blink as they fixed upon him.

“Hirosue, over here.” Hayama raised her hand and called the man over. Why was Hirosue here? Why? Why? Question marks ran through his head. The man’s approaching figure made Matsuoka’s heart hammer painfully. His clenched fists on the table began to tremble, and he almost hoped that the man had come to see him, having cleanly forgotten about the horrible way they had ended.

Hirosue threw a glance at Matsuoka, but only tipped his head slightly in an aloof manner.

“I’m sorry I’m late. The traffic was really bad.”

“You were busy with work, weren’t you? I’m sorry for inviting you out on such short notice. Have a seat.”

Hirosue sat beside Hayama and put his work bag down at his feet.

“Mako, I don’t think you’ve met him before. This is Motofumi Hirosue. He was very good to me when I was temporarily transferred to Koishikawa Lab.”

“Hi,” Hirosue smiled at her after being introduced by Hayama.

“And she’s Mako Fujimoto. She used to be my underclassman at university. Beside her is Yosuke Matsuoka, who works in Sales at the same company as me.”

“Huh?” Hirosue’s eyes widened as his voice cracked.

“Do you know Matsuoka?”

“Oh… yeah… um, actually, well…”

Hayama tilted her head at his unclear answer. Hirosue stopped even looking in his direction. It was more than obvious that he was trying to avoid Matsuoka’s eyes. Matsuoka could almost see the words “oh no” written on the man’s bowed forehead. He almost gave a derisive laugh.

“Hi. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Matsuoka said slowly, enunciating each word clearly as he stared the man down. Hirosue had not even realized that he was Yosuke Matsuoka until he was introduced by Hayama. There was no way he could think that Hirosue had come to see him now. No way at all.

“Mr. Hirosue used to be in General Affairs at headquarters. I’m friends with someone else in his department, and that’s how I met Mr. Hirosue. You took down a message for him once, Hayama, remember?”

“Did I?” Hayama cocked her head. Matsuoka neurotically rubbed the tips of his fingernails together under the table and feigned nonchalance as he asked a question.

“Hayama, are you guys dating, by any chance?”

Hayama blushed sheepishly at Matsuoka’s question.

“Well, I guess you can say we are.”

Everything went dark before his eyes. He knew it wasn’t possible, but it felt like all colour had vanished from his surroundings.

“Oh, I see.” His murmur died out at the end. In front of him, Hayama put her hand on the shoulder of the man sitting beside her. Hirosue hastily raised his head and looked at Matsuoka for a split instant before diverting his gaze again.

Their beer was brought shortly afterwards, and the four of them gave a toast. Matsuoka whipped all the muscles in his face to action so he could look glad as he clinked glasses and said “cheers”. He only took one gulp before putting his glass down. He couldn’t control the shaking in his right hand, and he felt like he wouldn’t be able to hold his glass without spilling his drink.

The girls picked which dishes to order. Every time Matsuoka was asked “How’s this?” he answered, “Sure, why not?” without really thinking. Once they finished giving orders, Hayama began talking with Fujimoto. Hirosue was not a good talker; even if a topic was tossed at him, he was unable to take it and run with it for long. Matsuoka didn’t feel like talking, so he spoke in a way that made the conversation die out. The girls soon began an animated conversation over clothes, leaving the two unsociable men out of the loop. Matsuoka gazed at the hands of the man across from him, who clenched and unclenched his fingers around his empty beer glass with his head down, in a lost sort of way.

Matsuoka was quite truthfully relieved when the food was brought. He had an excuse not to talk if he pretended to be busy with eating. He played along with the rest of the table as they raised their voices in awe at the colourful arrangement of the dishes, saying, “Wow, that looks delicious”. He took some food on his plate, but all he did was push it around with his fork. He barely ate any.

“Matsuoka.” He looked up hastily at Hayama when his name was called.

“Are you alright? You’re not eating much.”

“I’m fine. I’m just nervous because there’s a cute girl beside me,” Matsuoka joked lightheartedly. “Hey, this looks good,” he said as he grabbed a marinated dish he did not even feel like eating. “So,” he said, “this restaurant has a really good ambiance. How did you find out about it?”

“One of my juniors at the office told me she knew a good restaurant.”

“Saito, isn’t it?”

Hayama widened her eyes in surprise. “How did you know, Matsuoka?”

“She looks like she’d be fixated on anything to do with food.”

“You’re horrible,” Hayama said, but she was laughing. “Saito is one of my juniors. She’s a little on the chubby side. She’s a foodie, and she knows a lot about restaurants.”

Hayama explained their conversation thoroughly to Hirosue, who had no clue about their social circle. Matsuoka felt an inexplicable mounting frustration just watching the two sitting and talking beside each other. Feeling it surge up at once, he almost got out of his seat. Just then, Fujimoto asked Hayama a question.

“How long have you two been dating for?”

His temper, which had been boiling over until then, instantly receded as he was brought back to reality by her voice.

“About a month, I think.”

A month. A month ago, he had been clawing at contracts left and right like a madman. All the while he had been struggling to forget, Hirosue had went and gotten a new girlfriend.

“After I got transferred, I was having a really hard time because I couldn’t get used to the work. Hirosue was the one who cheered me up. That’s when I started taking a liking to him, and… right?”

Hayama looked up at Hirosue, looking for his assent.

“Yeah,” Hirosue said quietly.

“Don’t mind him. He’s not very talkative.”

Matsuoka stood up, his chair screeching more loudly than he had expected. Three pairs of eyes turned towards him.

“I’m just going to run to the bathroom.”

He left his seat and went into the restroom at the back of the restaurant. He shut himself into a stall, locked it from the inside, then slid into a squatting position with his back to the wall.

He wanted to cry, but no tears came. He felt like he was in a pitch-black hole. That bastard, he muttered inwardly to himself. Hirosue was only kind on the outside; in reality, he was weak, cold-hearted. But Matsuoka was stuck here, a pathetic man, because he wasn’t able to bring himself to hate him.

Five minutes. Ten. Matsuoka stayed frozen in place before slowly lurching to his feet. He could say he drank too much, or ate too much―it didn’t matter what reason. He was going home. He didn’t want to sit there any longer.

When he emerged from the stall, there was someone standing in front of the mirror. When he realized it was the very man he had been wishing he could hate just seconds ago, Matsuoka’s breath caught in his throat. Hirosue was looking this way, but all he did was look. He said nothing. After a long, suffocating silence, the man’s lips finally moved.

“I thought you were a stranger.”

Was he talking about his first impression of Matsuoka when he got to the restaurant? Matsuoka smiled with just his lips. He lightly pushed his non-prescription glasses up his nose.

“I didn’t know you and Ms. Hayama knew each other,” Hirosue said quietly. Matsuoka looked down and closed his eyes. He clenched his jaw before raising his head. He prayed that all expression had vanished from his face when he did.

“You know I’m in Sales at headquarters, and you know Hayama was sent from the same department to Koishikawa. Didn’t it even cross your mind that we might know each other?”

“We didn’t talk much about headquarters…”

Matsuoka sniffed derisively at his excuse. “Sure, maybe you weren’t interested in what went on at headquarters, but would it hurt to be a little cautious to avoid these situations?”

The man’s head gradually dipped lower.

“Even though we don’t have anything between us anymore, it’s not very pleasant to run into each other like this, is it?”

“Is that―”

Matsuoka’s sigh shook as it escaped his lips. He took a deep breath.

“Try to think a little, will you?” he spat. Just as he was on his way out, a voice chased after him.

“Is it my fault?” it said.

Matsuoka stopped.

“Is it all my fault that we ran into each other because I didn’t know who her friends were? Today, I was invited out of the blue because she said she was drinking with a co-worker and wanted me to come. She said ‘co-worker’, so I was under the impression that it was a girl.” A hint of anger flickered in his demeanour. His tone was harsh. If he lost his temper here, this would probably end in a very unpleasant argument.

“I know where you’re coming from, but it’s still true that you had more information than me,” Matsuoka said firmly. “I had no idea that Hayama was dating, or that it was you, until you two sat down right in front of me.”

Matsuoka stuck his right hand into his hair and raked it in frustration.

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s only for this evening. We’ve been through a lot, but let’s both start over with clean slates. I got introduced to Ms. Fujimoto beside me, anyway. Oh, and as for Hayama, you made a good choice. She’s considerate and nice.”

He felt like he had been able to carry the conversation well―as if he was only feeling awkward because he had been caught by surprise with no prior knowledge. Not because he was still attached to Hirosue.

“You’re pretty unfeeling.”

Matsuoka almost doubted his ears. The man’s utterance was even more brittle as it lodged itself in Matsuoka’s chest. In no way did he feel he deserved to hear that from Hirosue, who had went and gotten himself a girlfriend while Matsuoka was struggling to forget him.

“On the contrary,” Matsuoka retorted, “I think someone might have a problem if it takes him forever to get over it. Or, what, are you saying I still have to be in love with you, Mr. Hirosue?”

He wondered if the man would say “yes”, even as a lie, but he remained silent. Matsuoka exited the restroom, leaving the clammed-up man inside.

“W-Wait!”

The man grabbed his arm in the narrow corridor leading to the restaurant floor. The strength, heat, and the physical contact sent a jolt of agitation through Matsuoka.

“Please don’t tell her―about what happened before.”

Matsuoka’s excited, heated feelings died at once as he realized that Hirosue had come after him solely to say those words.

“Why the hell would I?” he snarled, shaking the man off before returning to his seat.

“You took long. Did you run into Hirosue?”

He ignored Hayama, but was soon overcome with guilt, and replied to her.

“We passed each other in the hallway.” He tacked on a smile as if to make up for the awkwardness he felt from almost ignoring her. Hayama herself did not seem to notice Matsuoka’s delayed answer or the subtle change of his emotions.

She doesn’t know anything, he thought as he stared intently at Hayama’s face while she talked animatedly with Fujimoto. I should just tell her everything. Ugly emotions circled in the pit of his stomach. How would Hayama react? Would she feel contempt towards Hirosue for sleeping with a man, even though it was under the influence of alcohol? Or would she scorn Matsuoka for having serious romantic feelings for another man?

“Is something on my face?” Hayama tilted her head.

“No,” Matsuoka said, shifting his gaze away. He didn’t even want to imagine what kind of look he had been giving Hayama. Hatred, jealousy―he didn’t

want to feel them, but they still bubbled up inside his chest.

He heard the chair across from him screech. Hirosue was back. His heart ached just watching the two sitting side-by-side. The perfect picture of the chosen one and the one who wasn’t chosen. I only have to deal with this once. As long as I can get through today―he told himself. In a desperate effort to divert his attention away from the reality before him, he spoke to Fujimoto.

“So, what do you do on your days off, Ms. Fujimoto?”

Her shoulders jerked in surprise. “Cleaning and going shopping…” Fujimoto said in a small voice.

“Don’t you go out for fun?”

“Not really.”

Hayama butted into their conversation, frustrated, perhaps, by Fujimoto’s passive attitude.

“You like aquariums, right? Remember how you were saying that dolphins are cute?”

“Oh, really?” Matsuoka said. “Want to go together sometime?”

Fujimoto suddenly fell silent. Matsuoka didn’t care whether it was “yes” or “no”. He just wanted an answer. Silence was the hardest to deal with, because that was all it took to kill the mood. Matsuoka smiled wryly, wondering how he would mop up this mess of a conversation.

“Oh, I’m not forcing you or anything, though,” he said, trying to put it behind them. Fujimoto looked up at him anxiously.

“You mean together… alone?”

Hayama overheard her and intervened. “Let’s go with the four of us, then. How about that?” she suggested to the group. Matsuoka inwardly froze in dread at the words “four of us”.

“Yeah, but―” He threw a glance at Hirosue, hoping he would get the message that he wanted the man to stop Hayama. But the man only averted his gaze, furrowing his brow in a difficult expression. He showed no signs of backing him up.

“But wouldn’t it be hard to find a day that works for all four of us?” Matsuoka protested.

“Everyone has Saturdays and Sundays off, don’t we?” Hayama said promptly. “And you’re okay with it if it’s with the four of us, right?”

Fujimoto nodded as if to yield to Hayama’s assertive suggestion. Now it was decided that the four of them would go together, but afterwards their conversation topic changed, and in the end they did not decide on a specific date.

Several times, Matsuoka tried to get up to say he was going home, but thought against it. It would probably be rude towards Fujimoto if I left now. All I have to do is endure this for a little bit longer. Time wore on as he brooded, and soon it was time to leave the restaurant.

Fujimoto was taking a train in the opposite direction from everyone else, so they walked her to the subway station. After she disappeared from view, Hayama turned to Matsuoka, put her palms together, and apologized.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “She was kind of antisocial, wasn’t she? I’m sorry. She has a nice personality, but…”

“I don’t mind,” Matsuoka murmured as he shrugged. “I don’t have a problem with those types, anyway.”

The street in front of the station was busy with people, even at this time of night. He looked at his watch and saw that it was past nine.

“I better get―” he said as he looked up to see Hayama whispering something to Hirosue. Her slender fingers grasped the cuff of Hirosue’s suit sleeve.

“I’m going home.”

“What?” Hayama exclaimed in surprise. “It’s still so early. Let’s go into another place.”

“I don’t want to disturb you guys. Thanks for today. See you Monday, then.” Matsuoka gave a casual wave of his right hand before turning his back on the two. He walked at a pace that wasn’t too quick to be obvious, and entered the train platform of the line he usually rode.

The train had just left, and the platform was deserted. He had a little time until the next train came, so he sat down on the bench. His head, which had been facing forward, gradually drooped, and soon he was looking at the tips of his shoes.

I shouldn’t have agreed to Hayama’s invitation. He had regretted it about a million times already. He remembered the fingertips that grasped Hirosue’s jacket sleeve before they parted. Five months ago, he had been in that position. He was supposed to be the one to touch the man’s cheek, circle his arms around his neck, and wait for the clumsy man to embrace him back tightly.

He wondered if he would still have been in that position if he had not revealed that he was a man. But it wasn’t something he could hide forever, and he felt like the longer he tricked the man, the deeper the wound it would have left on both of them.

Matsuoka wondered how much Hayama loved Hirosue. No matter how much she did, he was confident he loved him just as much, if not more. Although he could assert all he wanted that he loved the man more, that his feelings were more genuine, Hirosue was the one who could choose. And Matsuoka had not been good enough.

Then, what about Hirosue himself? Did he love Hayama more than he did Yoko Eto? Matsuoka had a feeling he didn’t, but he probably just hoped it was that way.

He felt something roil in the pit of his stomach, and his tear ducts stung. He had accepted that he had not been chosen, that he had been rejected. But why did he have to find out about his new lover, as well, as if to rub salt in the wound?

Matsuoka took off his glasses, which were wet with tears, and covered his face with his hands. He always dreaded looking at his face in the mirror in the morning. No matter what he did, he kept seeing remnants of Yoko Eto in his reflection. That was why he had cropped his hair, grown out his goatee, and put on glasses. He changed his look as much as he could so he wouldn’t be reminded of Yoko Eto―and of Hirosue.

Matsuoka laughed through his tears. In a sense, he could say he had succeeded. Upon seeing him for the first time in three months, the man had not even realized it was him.

The train pulled into the station, and left the echoes of its roar as it grew smaller into the distance. As Matsuoka missed one train after the next, the tears on his cheeks gradually dried. But even then, it was a long while later that he was finally able to get up from the bench.

After eating out that evening with the group, Matsuoka avoided associating with Hayama if he could help it. Now that he knew she was dating Hirosue, he could no longer see her as a good friend like he used to. Just hearing her voice or seeing her smiling face made him feel downtrodden. Being faced with his own pathetic jealousy took a harder toll on him that he had imagined.

Matsuoka appeared at the office less often than he did before. Oftentimes, he only showed up at the office to attend the morning meeting, and did not return to the office again for the rest of the day. He got a tan from walking around outside all day. Since he sweated in his suit, he sent it out for dry cleaning so many times that he soon ruined a pair of slacks.

On the last day of July, Matsuoka got a call from his boss on his cell phone while he was having a late lunch in a fast food restaurant, which was crowded with middle-school and high-school students out of their uniforms. His boss said he had something to discuss with him and told Matsuoka to return once to the office before he clocked out. Matsuoka scarfed down his combo meal and hurried through his scheduled afternoon visits to regular clients.

At four in the evening, he returned to the office, a little worn out from too much dashing about. He was immediately summoned by his boss. He seemed to be in a good mood, so Matsuoka figured it was probably not bad news. True to his guess, it was a proposal for a promotion. Matsuoka was told that he had been recognized for his performance in the past few months and the time leading up to that. At today’s meeting, it was decided that he would be promoted to general chief of the sales department. Since the formal announcement was going to be made next week, Matsuoka was told to keep quiet until then.

Truthfully, he was happy to be recognized for his efforts―especially so, since he had been feeling a little despondent these past few days.

“Hey,” a voice greeted him just as Matsuoka returned to his desk and sat down. His whole body bristled with tension. He turned around and made a conscious effort to smile.

“Hey,” he answered.

“What were you and the subsection manager talking about?”

“It’s a secret,” Matsuoka whispered as he hunched his shoulders.

“Ooh, suspicious,” Hayama giggled. “Oh yeah, Matsuoka, are you free next Wednesday evening?”

Their talk about going out as a group flashed across his mind. “Why?” he asked.

“For Mr. Ishii’s farewell party. You know he’s going to be transferred to the new sales office that’s just been established. I wondered if you would be able to go. I’m in charge of putting the party together.”

“Right,” Matsuoka murmured as he took his planner out of the briefcase he used for sales rounds. “I think I can go. I don’t have any plans for entertaining clients, and I’m not that busy right now anyway.”

“Great,” Hayama said as she marked the memo she was holding. She craned her neck to peer at Matsuoka’s planner while she was at it. “Your schedule is pretty crammed, isn’t it?”

“Well, yeah. I’m a popular guy.” He thought Hayama would laugh his joke off, but she only responded with “mm-hmm,” making Matsuoka feel somewhat awkward.

“I see you don’t have any plans on Saturday and Sunday.”

“Come on, I’d keel over if I worked on my days off, too,” Matsuoka said with a wry smile. Hayama extended a finger at the coming Saturday on his planner.

“Then, what do you say to going to the aquarium on this day with the same group we went out for dinner with?”

The conversation took an unexpected turn. Matsuoka couldn’t think of an excuse to turn her down.

“Umm, well, that day isn’t very…” Matsuoka said vaguely, making Hayama peer into his face.

“Not good? But you don’t have plans, right?”

“Well, yeah, but…”

Hayama made a dubious face, sensing Matsuoka’s lack of enthusiasm.

“I talked to Mako the other day. She seems to be interested in you. She felt really down about herself because she wasn’t very good at keeping up a conversation with you. I won’t force you if you’re not interested, but I’m wondering if you’ll give her another chance.”

Fujimoto had been unsociable, but he hadn’t found her unpleasant. But honestly speaking, he didn’t feel strongly enough to actively keep in touch with her, either. Hayama did not know that he used to love Hirosue, and Matsuoka knew that; however, the way she recommended her friend to him invited black doubts into his heart that perhaps she was trying to pair him off with someone soon to get rid of him.

He raked his hair aggressively. He hated being like this. He hated himself for it.

“I don’t mind meeting with Ms. Fujimoto again, but I’d rather it be just the two of us next time.”

Hirosue’s figure crossed his mind hazily.

“Really? You’ll meet her if it’s just you two?”

“Yeah,” Matsuoka answered. Hayama let out a sigh of relief.

“I’ll tell Mako that you said you wanted to see her alone. Whatever you do, keep this Saturday open, Matsuoka, you hear?”

Hayama pressed her point over and over with Matsuoka to keep Saturday free before she left. Despite having agreed to meet her alone, Matsuoka’s feelings were mixed. To be honest, he was less than excited.

He felt like it wasn’t right to see her in this way. But I haven’t agreed to date her or anything, he told himself as an excuse. Besides, maybe after meeting a few more times, he would actually come to like her. Fujimoto was a little similar to the girlfriend he had been living with before falling in love with Hirosue.

Whatever the case, he needed something to change his focus. Just as Hirosue had forgotten about Yoko Eto and moved on, he needed something else to divert his feelings, too.