“Huh…?”
I didn’t think to shut the door—just stood there like an idiot.
“Pardon my intrusion,” said Ushio as he kicked off his slippers and walked in. “Whoa, it’s huge! This room is awesome! Oh, and it comes with its own open-air bath!” Then, after doing a lap around the whole suite, he noticed me still standing in the same spot. “Shall I make us some tea?”
“Uh…sure…”
“Have a seat.”
“Okay…”
I went back to my wicker chair while Ushio took command of the mini-kitchen like he owned the place. He dropped a tea bag into a cup for each of us, then poured in hot water from the kettle.
“Oh, hey, you got fancier snacks than us!”
He arrived back at the table with our drinks on a tray, then sat down across from me. He was acting so normal that I couldn’t decide whether to panic or play it cool, and the result was a weird, fluctuating fusion of the two.
“Can I say one thing real quick in my defense?” he began.
“…What is it?” Personally, I would have liked to defend myself as well—or maybe just flat-out lie. I could tell it wasn’t going to happen, though.
“I made friends with a few people while filming for Persons, and we wanted to make plans to go on a trip somewhere. It was only three or four of us at first, but at some point it blew up, and then someone invited Kizaki-san, and I honestly didn’t know what to do. They’d already picked the inn and everything—I couldn’t just cancel.”
I didn’t know how to react to this, so I just threw out a noncommittal response. “Okay.”
“Are you okay with it, though?”
“I mean, yeah, but—more importantly, how did you know I was…?”
I started to wonder if maybe he really was a mind-reader after all, but the truth, as it turned out, was nothing supernatural.
“Isn’t it obvious? Your little pet sleuth told me himself.” He pulled his phone out and started to read aloud what was apparently a text conversation between himself and Tatsuki. “Kunieda-san said not to tell you, but I figure that means he really wants me to, so here goes…”
“Does no one on this earth take me seriously?!” Why did they all try to read into everything all the time?
“Anyway, I figured you might show up, so I hid behind the souvenir stand and watched the lobby at check-in time.”
“Stalker!”
“Takes one to know one! Actually, why’d you go out of your way to ask Minagawa to do it, anyhow? You could’ve just asked me.” I could hear the slightest hint of complaint in his tone, but when I fell silent, he changed tactics. “No, that’s not right. Ugh, wrong again.”
“Huh?”
“Gah, too hot,” he hissed under his breath after a sip of tea. “Okay, I’ll just cut to the chase.”
All at once, a spike of tension slapped me in the face. First I asked for space, and then when he gave it to me, I chased him across the country? Anyone would be sick of my shit; I at least had that much self-awareness.
“I read your manga while I was waiting at your house that night—the one you had stacked on the coffee table. At first I really struggled with the panel order though.”
Funny that we’d have the exact same reaction. But why would he bring that up?
“It was a total slog, but then you came home, and…stuff happened, and it pissed me off. But after I thought about it, I regretted what I said. I should have known you’d lose your temper if I pressed the issue—it’s hardly the first time that’s happened anyway. But I screwed up.” He smiled softly. “You’d think I’d have the controls memorized by now.”
“Hey, what do you mean, controls?!”
He ignored my protest and continued, “Reading that manga made me irritated. I wanted them to quit dancing around the subject and communicate already. But when I look at you, I start to realize that sometimes it’s just not possible. Every suggestion I had was something you must have thought of way before I did. And I know the prospect of failure is paralyzing for you, but I kept trying to push you, and it only made you shut down harder.”
At this point, I couldn’t even look him in the face anymore. All I could do was sit there and wring my hands in my lap. The more he tried to frame it like it was his fault, the more pathetic I felt.
“I’ve always wanted to be your safe space—someone who can be there whenever you feel you need me. But it’s been a little over a year now, and…I guess it’s something I need to work on. Because when I see those empty cans of Red Bull in your kitchen, it drives me crazy. And it’s hard to just sit on the sidelines without saying anything.”
“…I know.”
“Kei…”
He slid the tray to the side and leaned forward over the glass table, reaching out with both palms up. Slowly, I raised my head, and for the first time in ages, our eyes met.
“I’m sorry, Kei.”
“Ushio…” I placed my hands in his. “Can you…hear my voice?”
He must have been at least slightly confused by the question, but nevertheless, he answered, “Loud and clear.” His voice was soft and sweet, and when he squeezed my hands, as if on cue, tears streamed from my eyes.
“He said…he couldn’t…”
“Hm?”
“…said he couldn’t hear my voice…”
Slowly but surely, everything I had held inside started to trickle forth. I didn’t yet have the courage to admit that those words had hurt me, but I had taken the first step to confronting my pain. I took deep breaths, filling my chest, anything to keep from sobbing. Meanwhile, Ushio didn’t try to encourage me in either direction. He simply squeezed my hands in time with my breaths, waiting silently.
“He who?” he asked, finally.
“Shitara-san…”
“Ah, I see. Man, what a jerk. Can’t he see how hard you work every day?”
At this point, I didn’t know how to keep going anymore. Whether I did as I was told or went the extra mile, everyone seemed to judge me, all because I didn’t love my job. Was it so wrong to pursue a career simply because I was good at it? I confessed it all to Ushio in a messy mix of tears and mucus and hiccups. Puddles of salt water formed on the clear surface of the glass table.
The afternoon sun streamed in through the trees; the hum of the air conditioning was punctuated with the chirps of birds I’d never heard back in Tokyo. For some reason, it reminded me of those boring stretches of summer vacation when I was a kid. The sun would finally set, and Dad would come home, and Mom would serve us dinner, and we’d eat as a family. Back then, I never mourned today or feared tomorrow…
Oh, so that’s what “safe space” means. My face itched where the tears had dried.
After I finished speaking, Ushio asked, “How long are you off work?”
“Through the end of next week.”
“Gotcha. You don’t have to go back there, y’know.”
“Huh?”
“It’s soul-sucking work, and you don’t owe them shit. You’re naturally gifted at a lot of things—you can take as much time as you need, and if anyone complains, I’ll fight them myself. In fact, I’d love it if you quit your job and just moved in with me.”
Come to think of it, he asked me about it once. “If I offered to be your sugar daddy full time, would you quit your job and move in?” At the time, I outright refused, but what about now? Was the fact that I was asking myself this question an indication of the answer? Honestly, it was a miracle I lasted this long living a double life for the sake of appearing regularly on national television. If I’d known how hard it would be, I would have rejected the CEO’s offer.
He’s right—if I don’t love my job, then I can quit at any time. I could get a desk job somewhere. Everyone would forget about me once they replaced me on The News; no one would be upset.
I rubbed my eyes and cheeks, then leapt to my feet.
“Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” I roared from the depths of my gut as my spine grew back. “If I quit my job right now, I’ll look like a sore loser! When I quit, I want every executive at Asabi to chase me out to the parking lot, begging me to keep their shitty station afloat! They’ll build a Kunieda Kei Memorial Hall next door, and you’ll be the receptionist, so just sit pretty and WAIT!”
As I pointed in his face, he reached up and grasped my finger with a smile. “See, I knew you’d say that… What a shame.” His tone was both playful and a bit disappointed. “I can’t believe you proposed to me a second time.”
“Did not!”
“You just said you’re gonna support me with your career, right? Also, are you sure you don’t love your job? Because it sure looks like it to me.”
“What?!” No, no, no! Don’t just invalidate half of my anxiety like that!
“You tend to say the opposite of what you mean, that’s all. You really love it, don’t you?”
“Not even slightly.”
“What about me? Do you love me?”
“…What does that have to do with anything?!”
“Okay, whatever. I made my point.” Ushio rose to his feet, stretching widely, and I realized he’d been nervous to have this conversation, too. “Welp, let’s go.”
“Go where?” We may have resolved our conflict, but surely we weren’t going to pack up and go back to Tokyo just like that, were we?
“Isn’t it obvious?” He rolled his eyes. “What else do you do at a hot spring?”