Within the very same day of his return from London, Kento barged into Miyashita Clinic with his souvenirs. He had only been away for one week, but he ached to see Orihara. To see him, to hear his voice.
The clinic was still open for consultations, but he burst in through the door anyway, fumbling in haste to change his shoes to slippers.
“Welcome home,” said Nurse Nakagawa with a wave from the reception desk.
“I have a souvenir for you, too, Mrs. Nakagawa. Perfume from a store that Princes Diana used to buy from.” Kento gave her a box wrapped in pretty paper. “Where’s the doctor?”
Without even waiting for an answer, he stepped inside.
“Oh?“
The person at the consultation desk was not Orihara. It was a portly elderly gentleman. He looked up from reading a thick medical book, took the glasses off his white head and perched them on his nose as he looked back at Kento.
“You must be Kento, am I right?”
“Where’s Yuri?” Kento was so stunned, he called Orihara by his first name.
“Yuri went back to the university. I’m Miyashita. I’ve come back to work.”
“Gone back…” Kento finally remembered that Orihara had been here as a substitute for his uncle.
“When?”
“Last week.”
That was right after Kento had left to London. What did it all mean? Was his return sudden and unplanned? Kento was rooted to the spot in confusion.
“When was it decided?”
“Didn’t Yuri tell you he was going back to the university? That’s strange. My discharge from the hospital was decided quite a while ago.” Miyashita tilted his head in perplexity.
“I brought souvenirs for Yuri. Where would he be? Would I be able to catch him at N. University?” Kento asked, pretending not to be as agitated as he was.
“He works at N. University Hospital, but he’s not there right now,” Miyashita answered. “He said he’d be relocated to a hospital in Shimizu immediately.”
“Relocated?”
Miyashita explained to him that N. University had several other affiliated hospitals, and medical staff were relocated in turns.
“When is he coming back?”
“Oh, he’ll be away for one or two years at least.”
“No way…” Kento was at a loss for words. Miyashita looked at him with pity and tilted his head again.
“That wasn’t very nice of him to leave without telling you.”
Kento stared at his feet.
“Well, Shimizu is not that far,” Miyashita said encouragingly, “Why not visit him there?”
Why hadn’t Orihara told him? No doubt it was because he didn’t see Kento as a grown man and an equal. Or did he want to write off everything that had happened between them as a mistake? Even what happened that night?
Kento bit his lip and turned away.
“Yuri has told me a lot about you, Kento,” Miyashita gently said behind him. Kento Yamashiro is a precious friend of mine, and he comes here to play guitar because he can’t in his dorm, he had told Miyashita. If he comes when I’m not here, I want you to let him in.
“But…” Being called a precious friend didn’t bring much joy to Kento, who had hoped he would see them as something more.
“Goodbye,” he managed to force from his lips before leaving.
Once he got back to his dorm, Kento crawled into bed and closed his eyes. His buoyant feelings had quickly deflated like a pierced balloon. He had planned to spend a lot of time with Orihara over the spring break. He had wanted to tell Orihara everything he had seen and heard in London.
He must think nothing of me. Fine. If he’s going to give me the cold shoulder, I’ll just forget about him. But there was no way he could. Those gentle hands which had visited him in the night; those slender fingers pressing the strings of the guitar; his gentle eyes as he nodded and listened to Kento’s stories. Every scene appeared vividly before his eyes.
And then, his sad eyes when he had cried in Kento’s arms.
I’ll never forget you. No matter what happens.
✦ ✦ ✦
By the second day, Kento was already dying to play guitar again. He had second thoughts about going back since he had left the clinic rather angrily, but his desire to play guitar won out. Somehow, it felt like playing the guitar would keep his connection to Orihara alive.
After school, he visited Miyashita Clinic and shyly poked his face into the consultation room.
“Good to see you,” Miyashita greeted him with a smile. “Play to your heart’s content. I’m quite enjoying this, too. I feel like I’ve gotten myself a grandson.”
Kento played the guitar in the living room just as he had with Orihara, and the memories of the man’s voice, expression, and body language all came flashing back to him. He used his pick to strum the strings while he sang “All My Loving” in a quiet voice.
“You know, Kento, real Beatles fans purposely play this part wrong.” The gentle voice resonated deep in his ears.
“Why’s that, Doctor?”
Orihara had smiled at his question. “This song’s in their second album, called With the Beatles. There’s a mistake in the recording.”
Then, Orihara had leaned over his shoulder from behind him, their cheeks almost brushed up against each other.
“Do it like… this. Yes, very good.”
He remembered staring at Orihara’s profile and his pronounced features, feeling a strange pain in his heart that he did not understand. No doubt by that time, he had already begun to be attracted to Orihara. Back then, they had only been nebulous feelings of affection. If he had known what they meant… he could have turned around and touched those lips. On one occasion, in fact, he had turned around too quickly and bumped lips with Orihara.
“Whoa, sorry for kissing you,” Kento had apologized in a flustered way. Even then, Orihara had only smiled and forgiven him.
And he gently poised his fingers over mine and taught me. Kento was almost sure that Orihara had feelings for him. I’m sure he loves me even a little. After all, he hadn’t gotten angry when their lips touched by mistake. If he had hated Kento, he would probably have reacted with disgust.
That’s right. And we’ve done way more than kissing. He said afterwards that he’d gotten carried away, but no matter how carried away he got, he’d never be able to do that with someone he hated. It wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment thing. I really do love him.
He was sure that Orihara loved him back, even just slightly. Perhaps they were not romantic feelings, but even that was enough.
✦ ✦ ✦
And then while I’m away
I’ll write home every day
And I’ll send all my loving to you
✦ ✦ ✦
He thought of Orihara as he sang. It was a while before he realized that Miyashita was listening intently beside him.
“It’s been such a long time since I heard the guitar,” he said with awe.
“Why’s that?”
“Yuri also quit playing guitar when he quit running.” Miyashita gave a grunt as he lowered himself into the armchair in front of Kento, and gazed at Kento with a reminiscent look.
“I’m surprised he even taught you the guitar.”
“Uh-huh.”
After playing a few more songs, a thought popped up in Kento’s mind. What if he asked Miyashita about Orihara? He was Orihara’s uncle after all, and they had even lived together. Kento didn’t want to seem nosy by abruptly bombarding him with questions, so he decided to get close with Miyashita first.
“Dr. Miyashita, do you mind if I start coming here all the time again?” he asked nonchalantly.
“Not a problem. Come anytime,” Miyashita said.
Miyashita was very fond of music, and he and Kento soon grew close over the course of his visits. However, all the vinyl records that Miyashita owned were classical, apart from Orihara’s Beatles records. Kento suggested that he listen to other music as well.
“I’ll lend you some CDs,” he offered. Miyashita did not own a CD player, so Kento brought in his own stereo from his dorm. “I have another one back in my room, so you can keep this here,” he assured the man.
Kento thought long and hard before choosing a Southern All Stars album, thinking it would probably be palatable for someone who was familiar with The Beatles.
“I think you’ll find this music alright,” he said as he pressed play. Miyashita appeared to bode well with the ballads.
“I want to hear more,” he said. Kento decided to lend him another CD.
“Is this one Southern All Stars, too?” Miyashita asked.
“You should listen to different stuff,” Kento advised. “You’ll get behind the times if you don’t listen this type of music.”
Miyashita adjusted well to J-pop. “This ‘Love Machine’ song is quite energizing,” he said as he sat on the sofa with headphones on, bobbing his plump body back and forth. Kento almost burst out laughing.
“Right? It feels even better to sing it,” Kento said. “We should go karaoke sometime!”