“What is it you want?” he asked again. I couldn’t say anything back. “If you need a place where you’re comfortable, I can give you one. I’ll keep hiding my key in the same place I always have. But what do you want from me?” He undid his rumpled tie, his tongue licking blood off his lip. It immediately turned crimson again. I must’ve bitten him harder than I realized. “Who is it you like, Iguchi?”
I could only respond by looking at the floor.
When the bell for the start of class rang, Rintaro rose to his feet. I heard the slam of the door behind him as he left, but I was still shaking like a leaf and wasn’t able to raise my head. All I could do was hug myself tightly, waiting to calm down.
His words repeated in my head again and again. “What is it you want?”
“I…” I forced myself to speak, voice raspy, but froze in terror as I heard the art room door reopen.
“Iguchi? Are you still in here?” Chiaki’s cheerful voice echoed through the room. “I gotta lock up. Let’s go to class.” I heard him get closer to me, one step at a time. Then he froze in his tracks as he spotted me hugging myself protectively. “Iguchi…? Rintaro told me to lock up here…” He trailed off, seemingly racking his brain for some kind of clarity. Rintaro had stormed out of the art room, leaving me behind on my own—and I was half-naked.
Despite his confusion, Chiaki was kind enough to take off his shirt and give it to me, averting his gaze so I could cover myself. “I see. So…that’s how it was between you guys.” He laughed dryly and sat on the floor, glancing at the fallen easel. “Yeah…I knew you met up here a lot. It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”
“We haven’t been…”
“You don’t need to lie. I figured something like this would happen at some point.”
“You’ve got it all wrong.”
Rintaro’s blood was still on my lips. I wiped it off, but the sensation lingered there. I’d finally gotten what I hoped for, but it left me with an overwhelming sense of self-loathing. As I bit my own lip, it was like the floodgates of my heart burst wide open. Keeping my gaze locked on the floor, I confessed my feelings with the last bit of strength I could muster. “I’m sorry, Chiaki. I wound up falling for you.”
He glanced once more at the toppled easel, and relief seemed to ripple over him. It was still just a rough outline with no color at all. Soon, he’d cover it with several coats of paint that would conceal the drawing beneath, like it’d never existed at all. That’s why he’d chosen to draw Rintaro on the canvas.
“And after you opened up to me, too,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
Chiaki and I had spent hours together in the art room. We’d talked about lots of silly things, occasionally whispering about matters of the heart. He’d told me his feelings for Rintaro, which proved how much he trusted me.
Chiaki knew those feelings would be fruitless. He’d experienced painful love many times through his childhood, and he’d made up his mind never again to fall for someone—but his heart had other ideas when he met Rintaro.
I still couldn’t forget the expression on Chiaki’s face when he opened his heart and revealed everything to me. He could never tell Rintaro how he felt, but I’d taken it upon myself to keep a watchful eye on his unwavering devotion from the sidelines. Chiaki was someone who appreciated subtle romantic gestures and knew roundabout ways to express love, like saying the moon looked beautiful.
I had nothing but respect for him. In fact, I envied his purehearted ability to love. Before long, my own feelings had turned romantic, and I was the one who’d betrayed our friendship.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated.
Chiaki sat on the floor, seemingly lost for words. I could tell he didn’t know whether to cry, laugh, or get mad. As he mulled over how to express his feelings, I reached out to stroke his cheek.
“Rintaro’s here,” I said, cupping his cheeks in both hands. When he looked up in stunned surprise, I kissed him on the lips. Part of me wanted to claim just a fraction of his feelings by any means. Chiaki himself could never touch the object of his affection, but I’d thought maybe I could do it instead, and he could feel Rintaro’s lips and warm skin through me. I loved Chiaki so much I was willing to become an utter fool in the process.
I’d never wanted to be under love’s thumb. I didn’t want relationships like my mother’s—ultimately, she was always cast aside. And I didn’t want to find myself eternally seeking impossible love. That was just what I ended up doing, though. I wanted Chiaki’s pure love for myself, even if only the tiniest spoonful.
Chiaki’s eyes scanned the floor for the fallen canvas as I tried desperately to distract him with my kisses. Once he completed the painting, Rintaro’s face would be gone. It had been me moongazing that night, so in the end, the finished product would probably depict my face. That was how Chiaki would keep protecting his heart.
But I wanted his feelings for myself so badly, I didn’t care if it was fake love. “Chiaki…”
The two of us were so lost in thought, we didn’t hear the sound of footsteps approaching. It was too late for us to pull apart by the time the door flew open.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” a voice bellowed as our secret hiding place was desecrated.