Thirty minutes before Ensho appeared in front of Aoi, Kiyotaka was waiting in his car parked on the street west of KNM. He knew that Aoi finished work at 5:30 p.m., so he figured she would arrive around 6 p.m. As he was checking the time, a man approached his car and knocked on the window.
Kiyotaka recognized him immediately. He opened the window, smiled, and said, “Good evening.”
“What’s with that smile? You’re creeping me out.”
“You’re the creepy one, dressing up like that.”
“I’m copying you.”
“I suspected as much. Well, what do you want?”
“I wanna talk to Aoi. Can you lend her to me?”
“Lend her? Aoi is not an object.”
“Yeah, but she has plans with you, right?”
“Yes, in fact. But you are free to speak with her. I’ll wait as long as I need to.”
“How generous.”
“I...do owe you. Not that I think this would make up for it.” Kiyotaka got out of his car and stood in front of Ensho. “Anyway, congratulations. Your painting sold for a high price.”
“Thanks. Didn’t win the show, though.”
The highest-valued painting at the M+ exhibition had been the close-up of a young girl’s face with a winning bid of six hundred million yen. It had been purchased by a wealthy buyer from Beijing. Because of that huge sum, Ensho’s painting hadn’t received as much attention in the news. The only mention was a single sentence at the end of the article: “A Japanese artist’s work was purchased for 160 million yen.”
“I’ve been rejected again,” Kiyotaka mused.
“You only offered the damn airfare.”
“It was a declaration of intent. ‘Bring it to me and I’ll treat it well.’”
“I know. But I’d already decided from the beginning.”
“That you would choose the highest bidder regardless of who they were?”
Ensho laughed. “Hah, you sure know me.”
“I didn’t realize your intent until that moment, though.”
“When I tried to get you to meet with Fuga?”
“A little before that. When you said, ‘Wouldn’t be fair otherwise.’”
After that, Ensho had said, “I’d like to say take care, but can it wait until tomorrow? Gimme some of your time. Heck, are there even any flights left today?”
“All right.” Kiyotaka nodded. He knew exactly what the man was thinking. Ensho intended to make him meet with Fuga.
Kiyotaka immediately headed for the specified hotel, leaving Komatsu behind. He braced himself before entering the room, but Fuga wasn’t present. Only Ensho was there.
“Forgive me,” Ensho said, heaving a sigh. “He got suspicious and left. Guy really doesn’t wanna see you.”
Kiyotaka looked at the armchair that Fuga had probably been sitting in not so long ago. “I imagine so,” he said with a weak smile. His hunch was proven right. During the phone call with Shiro, Fuga had not uttered a single word despite having been present. In fact, Fuga had never once appeared before Kiyotaka ever since their conflict.
Fuga was avoiding him, and Kiyotaka had similarly avoided involving himself with him again. That was why the thorn embedded in his heart continued to sting to this day.
“When I made up my mind to meet with him, I realized just how long I had been running away,” said Kiyotaka. “I felt ashamed that I needed you to set this up for me. So I will face him properly, and I thank you for making me come to this decision.” He bowed.
“Stop that.” Ensho shrugged. “Anyway, I’m heading out for a bit.” He turned his back to Kiyotaka and left the room.