But…! Seiji wanted to interject, but he didn’t even have time to speak.
Opening his eyes, Shiroshi fixed Takamura with a piercing glare. “No matter what your reasons may be, I do not think I will ever forgive you for this.”
“I’m honored.” At that, Takamura made his usual exit, vanishing like the flame of a snuffed-out candle.
For a little while, silence fell.
Left behind, Shiroshi looked both tired and wounded. At last, he exhaled deeply, then finished what little tea remained in his cup. “There’s something I’ve wanted to discuss with you for a while now, Seiji.”
“Wh-what is it?”
“Your habit of running away,” he said unexpectedly. “I’ve taken the liberty of investigating your upbringing. Frankly, you seem to have been treated rather carelessly; perhaps as a result, you see no value in yourself. I think that’s the root cause. Because neither your work nor your future matters to you, you run at the slightest provocation…even though, between this and that, you’re able to do your best as long as it’s for others.” He smiled suddenly, as soft as a white peony blooming. It seemed a little too awkward to count as genuine, though. “As long as you do that, however, you may as well be running from life itself. No occupation, no home, no money—even if you have nothing at all, your life is your own. So please, do try.”
With that, he took a folded slip of paper from the breast of his kimono.
Opening it, Seiji saw an unfamiliar address. It had a building name and a room number, so it probably belonged to an apartment.
“That is your new residence. I procured it while you were in bed with your cold. The rent has been paid for six months in advance; if possible, I would like you to move there tonight. I’ll send instructions regarding how to repay the thirty million yen later on.”
“Huh?” Seiji’s voice stuck in his throat. His vision grew hazy, as if he wasn’t getting enough oxygen. Somehow, he managed to swallow. “B-but tomorrow—the duel with Ibara—”
“I’ll have Beniko accompany me. I’m limited to one companion, and she is the most suitable.”
“Hang on! Um, wait just a second, please. A-are you…firing me?”
Shiroshi looked down. That probably meant yes. If he was being honest with himself, Seiji knew without having to ask: He’d clearly been given his notice, but…
No. He’s not firing me because he wants to.
It wasn’t just a hunch. Seiji was almost positive.
I no longer need you as an assistant. No matter how harsh it might be, if it was the truth, Shiroshi would never have averted his eyes.
And so, clenching the slip of paper in his hand, Seiji stood up.
I’m really glad I got to talk to Beniko earlier, he thought. If he was making a mistake, he was confident she’d stop him even if she had to drug him. Being able to trust someone that way made him happy—and so did being trusted.
And so…
“I refuse,” Seiji said, all in one breath, before ripping up the address.
A gust of wind blew through the room.
It snatched the tiny bits of paper away, sending them fluttering into the cloudy sky like butterflies, then whisking them out of sight.
“I’m not sure, but I get the feeling you’re worried about me, Shiroshi.” When he turned back, Shiroshi’s eyes were uncharacteristically wide with surprise. Seiji didn’t give him time to speak. “The thing is, I’m worried about you, too, so if you tell me to get out, I’m taking you with me.”
“…Huh?”
“I mean, I haven’t spent my whole life ducking out on stuff I’m supposed to do for nothing. If I commit to running, I think it’d go pretty well… No, wait, that’s not what I meant. Um…”
Not knowing what he was saying, or even what he could say, Seiji still somehow put his thoughts into words. In the end, there was only one thing he wanted to get across.
“If you don’t want me running, take me with you. No matter where we’re headed, if you’re alive, that’s enough for me.”
It took Shiroshi the space of a breath to respond.
He opened his mouth to say something, then promptly closed it again. It looked as if words had almost slipped out, and he’d just barely managed to swallow them back down. Then he inhaled deeply, as if catching his breath. “…Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“Even if what lies ahead is Hell?”
“Nah, I’m sure it’ll be fine, so I’m not worried. After all,” Seiji added, “this is you we’re talking about.”
In response, he got an expression he’d never seen before. Just for a moment, it looked as if Shiroshi had almost started to cry but toughed it out, or as if he’d nearly smiled but stopped himself.
“Heh-heh-heh. Actually, that’s what I think, too.”
“…Well, of course.”
“Yes.”
If someone else had been present, it would have sounded like an obvious bluff, whistling in the dark. With only the two of them there, though, it was just the truth.
They might not have had any grounds for thinking that way, or felt very confident about it, but at the very least, it wasn’t a lie.
“In that case, Seiji. Setting the future aside, would you come with me to a spot one step from Hell?”
Seiji nodded. Nodding was all he could do. He knew he could never take the lead and pull Shiroshi by the hand or stand beside him as an equal.
Even so, if by some chance Shiroshi stumbled, Seiji thought he could at least support him a little so that he wouldn’t fall over backward. And in that case, for now, half a step behind him was where he wanted to be.
Before long, night fell.