Song placed his hand gently on Kuji's head. "Masatake, God will not abandon you because of that. You have nothing to fear."
"But you—!" Kuji burst out loudly as he roughly brushed Song's hand off of him. "You think I'm filthy, don't you? Telling you that I love you like that, even jerking myself off on your lap... and then still liking it when I'm fucked by another guy! I even promised myself I'd stop... make do by thinking about you while I do it myself... but I still let myself get fucked, and I came, over and over—"
Kuji's last words were hoarse, and he turned his face aside, feeling ashamed. But Song only placed his hand again on Kuji's head.
"God made men's bodies this way. There's nothing we can do about that."
If there really was a God, how idiotic it was for Him to do this, Kuji thought. He shifted his gaze back to Song. He studied the peaceful face looking back at him.
"And... how about you? You're not impotent. Don't you get urges to do it sometimes? Or are you not allowed to jerk off, either? How do you restrain yourself? Is it super easy? Piece of cake?"
"Super easy, piece of cake, huh. Sounds like typical teenager speak," said Song, his lips turning up slightly. "I will say that I do find it very difficult sometimes."
Kuji widened his eyes in astonishment. "How... how do you resist?"
"There was someone who once saved my life. When I remember that, and it's not difficult anymore."
"Your life..." He had never expected those words to come out of Song's mouth. He was expecting to hear things about God's love, or absolute happiness, or a ticket to Heaven. Things like that.
He suddenly recalled what Nango had said.
"We think he's a sleeper for the North."
Song's life had been in danger - because he was a spy? Were the scars on his back related to that? Yet Song had said that he did not believe in his country. Would someone be a spy for a country he did not trust? He didn't know.
Kuji continued to stare at Song in silence. Song slid his hand off of Kuji's head and lifted the napkin on the table to reveal a deep dish containing rice balls.
"A member of the congregation made them. Let's have dinner. Go and put your clothes on."
Kuji returned to the change room, picked up his underwear and pants from the floor, and headed toward the washing machine. Before throwing the clothes in, he reached into the pockets. He pulled out the cell phone that Nango had given him, and also found the Darth Vader figure that came out with it.
"Oh..." He had completely forgotten about Ogura. Kuji changed quickly and went back to the kitchen, calling out to Song, who was pouring coffee for both of them.
"Hey, I heard something weird today," he said. Song paused from pouring the coffee as Kuji continued to elaborate. The man furrowed his brow and appeared to lapse deep into thought. Deep wrinkles were etched between his eyebrows.
"Masatake, to tell you the truth, I've actually also heard rumors. Not like the urban legend that Ogura mentioned to you, but it might be something similar. The only difference is that this was a horrible and very criminal act. When I first heard about it, I thought it was absurd. I had trouble believing it."
"And what's that?" Kuji glared impatiently at Song for drawing his story out. "Tell me."
Song looked worriedly at Kuji. "It's very frightening. You might not be able to bear hearing about it, Masatake."
"Don't worry, I'm a spy for Public Safety," he wished he could say. But he couldn't. "I've been in jail, you know," he said instead, puffing his chest out. "I was even a part of the yakuza. Little things aren't gonna scare me."
"Oh, right. I'd forgotten. Seeing how you are, now, Masatake, I wouldn't even be able to imagine," Song smiled wryly as he handed Kuji his coffee. "Maybe coffee wasn't the best drink to go with rice balls," he added as an afterthought.
After dinner, Song asked if he would be able to meet Ogura. "I want to see him in person and hear his story."
Kuji cocked his head, unsure. "He's working part-time at a convenience store right now. I don't know what his shifts are like. Let me call him and see." With that, he flipped open the phone that Nango had given him. Ogura's number was already listed. The young man picked up immediately.
"He's working the evening shift. He'll be finished at twelve," Kuji kept his cell phone to his ear as he told Song. "He says he'll be able to come by bike, so he's going to go home to Okubo first. What do you want to do?"
"Let's pick him up."
Kuji was surprised at the man's answer, but nonetheless told Ogura, anyway.
"He says there's no problem with that. But why?" he asked as he put the cell phone away in his back pocket.
"We shouldn't wait until tomorrow. It's just a gut feeling." Song pulled out his own cell phone and began contacting someone else. Once he was done, he looked over at Kuji. "I'm going out for a bit," he said. He looked clearly on-edge, wearing an unusually severe look.
"Where're you going?" Kuji asked.
"I'm going to rent a car. The subways won't be running at midnight anymore, remember?"
Kuji could see his point.
"Catch some sleep, Masatake," Song told him. But even after returning to his room, Kuji found it hard to calm down. He had a feeling that something was going to happen behind his back without him having any awareness of it.
He clutched the cell phone that Nango had given him.