Masaomi was coming toward them, wearing his flocked coat and discussing something with Ukigumo. They were only a few feet away.
Masaomi’s gaze shifted from Ukigumo, and he saw Misao. But Masaomi gave him only a polite smile, as if they were merely acquaintances meeting on the street. Then he tried to look smoothly away. In fact, he did look away from Misao’s face. But then he blinked and turned back. He appeared shocked.
“Misao?”
Masaomi left Ukigumo’s side and hurried up to Misao. Misao had no idea what sort of expression he should wear, but he turned his entire body to the side. His ears burned. He hadn’t expected to be this shy.
“Ahh,” Katsuragi said from the sidelines, looking at Masaomi with a smarmy smile. “So you’re the one who doesn’t take any substitutes.”
He was astoundingly rude considering this was their very first meeting.
Masaomi looked past Misao at Katsuragi and narrowed his eyes slightly, then inclined his head. He didn’t look as if his mood had been punctured, but rather as if he wasn’t quite sure what Katsuragi had meant. Misao, on the other hand, hated Katsuragi for it and slapped his arm.
“Don’t be stupid,” he chided under his breath. Katsuragi looked entirely unrepentant and twisted his mouth into a smile, raising one eyebrow at Masaomi. This time Masaomi’s face clearly showed his displeasure. He glowered and looked over at Misao.
“Why are you dressed like that?”
His voice sounded almost accusatory, and Misao hesitated.
He couldn’t answer.
He could never explain.
“Because I paid for it,” Katsuragi cut in. His voice was sardonic, as if amazed at how naïve Masaomi must be to not understand that.
“You paid?”
The expression disappeared from Masaomi’s face.
What...?
Misao’s heart fluttered at the tense atmosphere.
“Omi?”
Ukigumo, who had watched the proceedings in silence until then, called out demurely to Masaomi. Behind her, holding up the train of her kimono, Sazu stood gaping at Misao.
“You go ahead.”
Masaomi raised a hand and answered her without looking. His gaze was fixed unswervingly on Katsuragi.
Her features as placid as the surface of a lake, Ukigumo caught Sazu’s eye and they slowly ascended the staircase.
This was a bizarre development.
“How much?” Masaomi asked, his words hard against his emotions. “How much did you pay for him?”
Hearing those words, Misao finally realized how horribly Masaomi had misunderstood.
“Well now” Katsuragi answered patronizingly, smirking thoughtfully. “All together, I’d say it came to three hundred and twenty yen.”
“I’ll pay twice that. For you to leave him alone,” Masaomi shouted instantly, open hostility plain on his face. Misao’s eyes nearly popped.
“Masaomi!”
“Be quiet!” Masaomi shouted sharply without looking at him.
Misao felt the anger gushing out of the man.
“Thanks.”
Katsuragi gave Misao a little shove. Misao stumbled and almost fell, but Masaomi caught him in one arm and brought him to his chest. But it felt very different from the sensation he had experienced so many times before now. He felt like he was being treated in a very business-like way. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, as if someone had dropped ice on it.
“You can pay me later. You can have that.”
Katsuragi jerked his chin at Misao, then started climbing to the second floor, his business with them completed.
“Oh, by the way.”
When he’d gotten halfway up the stairs, he turned around, as if he’d just remembered something.
“A nice old gentleman by the name of Sakai who’s very fond of Misao is coming soon, so could you leave his clothes on until he gets here? He really wanted to see it.”
Misao was ready now for any horrible thing that Katsuragi might say. But the coolness in the hand that held his shoulder and the blankness on the face he saw above him were enough to hurt him.
Masaomi said nothing.
Katsuragi snorted. It was like a laugh, but since he turned around as soon as it was out of him, it was hard to say for sure.
Masaomi removed his hand from Misao’s shoulder and fell back a step.
“Masaomi”
Misao called to him, but Masaomi turned his face away; he wouldn’t look at Misao. Misao watched his flocked coat walk away in silent shock for a long moment.
He took a shuddering breath and when it caught in his throat, he ran up the stairs after him.
He caught up with Masaomi on the second floor.
“Please don’t misunderstand.”
Misao tried desperately to explain, but Masaomi refused to listen. He didn’t even glance at Misao.
“Masaomi!”
He didn’t stop, and Misao’s face contorted at the sheer coldness of his retreating figure.
Still, he pleaded with him desperately.
“I don’t care about the money. I’ll pay it back to Katsuragi!”
“Katsuragi”
Masaomi repeated in a murmur, coming to a stop. He turned a frighteningly lucid expression on Misao.
“I’ve heard that name before.”
His anger flared white-hot.
That was all the explanation he gave for a long, burning instant. He said nothing else.
“Omi?”
Ukigumo approached elegantly from the hallway that surrounded the interior garden. Sazu and one of the men from the tea house trailed after her. Her mincing steps stopped in front of Masaomi.
“I have come to escort you to the room, sir.”
Ukigumo spoke modestly, her eyes raised only to the level of Masaomi’s lips.
“After you, if you please, sir.”
Masaomi lowered his face slightly in obvious self-loathing and let out a short sigh.
“I’m sorry.”
Ukigumo looked up at him in silence. She slowly blinked her clear eyes once, then turned them to Misao.
He didn’t want to face her. But still, he couldn’t look away. Maybe because part of him sensed that this was a competition. If he looked away, it would be like acknowledging his guilt.
“How beautiful,” Ukigumo whispered, her eyes rapturous. She took a step forward, her kimono sweeping behind her. “Work well.”
As she passed Misao, she left him with these cool words.
He was astounded.
She hadn’t confronted him at all.
Did her unwavering assurance come from the fact that Masaomi cared for her? She looked as if she had absolutely no need to worry about Misao, whom Masaomi was only a little fond of. He watched Masaomi disconsolately as Ukigumo left, expecting to see him miserably watch her disappear. Instead, he was surprised to find Masaomi looking at him, a complex expression on his face.
It was a shock.
Misao was flustered. Shutting off all the emotion in his face, Masaomi called to him. “Let’s go.”
Of course, Misao fell in behind him without argument, but it was not an atmosphere that encouraged him to speak.