FUTTARA DOSHABURI
part 4.
Normally, Kazuaki would gently reach over and stop him before he realised what he was doing. Today, with no one beside him, Nakarai only became aware that his fingers had drifted to his eyelashes when Hagiwara's gaze followed the movement.
"...Are they getting in the way because they're too long?"
"Or was it something I said?"
"Hm?"
"I just thought..."
"If you pull them out, they grow back longer."
"...What?"
"I used to pull all of mine out."
"With my fingers."
"Top and bottom."
"When they grew back..."
"...they somehow seemed even longer than before."
"So instead of messing around with eyelash curlers and mascara..."
"...I figured maybe it'd be easier just to get rid of them all at once."
"I can't promise it'll actually work, though."
Nakarai stared at him.
"...Wouldn't that be a problem?"
"Why?"
"...Because you need eyelashes."
"I mean..."
"...wouldn't dust get in your eyes?"
"Not really."
"I hardly went outside back then."
"So it wasn't much of an issue."
"I probably just looked a bit ridiculous."
"Why did you pull them out?"
"...Stress relief."
"I see."
Hagiwara fell silent. He had probably decided it was wiser not to ask any more. Nakarai, meanwhile, absent-mindedly crushed the pile of peanut shells on his small plate into even smaller pieces. Tiny fragments clung to his fingertips.
Despite the broad knuckles and unmistakably masculine shape of his hands, his nails gleamed with a healthy shine.
*What a strange guy...*
Hagiwara rolled a peanut between his fingers, wondering when it would be polite to leave.
*If I get up now, it'll look rude.*
*Maybe someone will come over.*
*Pulling out every eyelash... that's basically self-harm, isn't it?*
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*(Author's Note: It is quite surreal that my absolute favourite Japanese BL was actually my first attempt at translating! Even though it took forever to upload it here, I previously had it up on Wattpad and Inkitt.
This specific part is deeply personal to me. Hagiwara is correct—it is a form of self-harm. As someone who lives with fibromyalgia, it feels profoundly ironic to see such a rarely discussed anxiety disorder cross paths with my love for BL. Thanks for reading!)*
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He didn't want to judge him, but it sounded like the sort of thing someone in a very bad place would do.
Nakarai had spoken of it so casually, as though it were no more than a way to relieve stress, but Hagiwara couldn't shake the feeling that one careless remark might wound him.
Then again...His eyelashes had grown back. And he seemed perfectly stable now. Perhaps it really was something he'd completely overcome.
*Still...*
*What a pain.*
*Why confess something like that to someone you barely know?*
The thought made him grimace.
Then he caught himself.
*...Says the man whose colleague just confessed his sexless relationship.*
*I guess we're both just as bad.*
He needed to change the subject. Normally, he could think of small talk without any effort. Maybe he was flustered. Or maybe the beer he'd been knocking back so quickly was finally catching up with him.
"Nails."
"Huh?"
Nakarai looked at his hands.
"I was just thinking..."
"...your hands are really well looked after."
"Is that some kind of sales etiquette?"
Hagiwara glanced down at his fingers.
The polished surface of his nails reflected the warm glow of the pendant light overhead.
"Oh..."
"My girlfriend works at a nail salon."
"So every now and then she does them for me."
"She files them down, tidies the cuticles..."
"...buffs the surface..."
"...then finishes with a hand massage."
"I see."
"So you shouldn't use nail clippers, then?"
"That's right."
"Apparently it's not very good for your nails."
"But isn't it a bit of a hassle?"
"If I were a nail, I'd rather someone just clipped me in one go."
"I've never heard anyone empathise with their fingernails before."
"It's a good girlfriend you've got."
"I suppose."
The blunt reply slipped out before Hagiwara could stop himself.
Even as a response to simple politeness, it had sounded curt.
*I should've said it differently.*
For Kaori's sake.
For my own.
"No..."
"Not 'I suppose.'"
"More like..."
"...Yeah."
"She really is."
"There are all sorts of things, but..."
"...she's far too good for someone like me."
Nakarai smiled.
"That's more like it."
A memory surfaced. Kaori had done his nails once. Just as she always did, she had sat opposite him, taken his hand in hers and carefully tidied each nail. When he'd asked if she ever got tired of it after spending all day doing the same thing at work, she'd simply smiled.
"Not at all."
"It's fun."
"Because they're your hands, Hagiwara."
He remembered how much he'd enjoyed it too. Her hands had been cool, soft, almost as though they held water inside them. While she concentrated on his fingers, he'd watched her face.
*She's beautiful.*
Even without makeup. The faint freckles scattered across her cheeks and brow. Her sleepy-looking eyes. Kaori always felt self-conscious about them.
"Hagiwara?"
"Hm?"
"Kaori."
"What is it?"
"...Do you want to?"
Her hands, which had been slowly massaging the backs of his fingers, paused for just a second. Without meeting his eyes, she answered in an almost playful tone.
"Sorry, sir."
"We don't offer that particular service."
Then she squeezed his hand gently and laughed.
"I've finished."
"I don't get it."
To Hagiwara, there hadn't been anything funny about it.
*All done.*
Those words had sounded less like she'd finished his manicure and more like she was bringing an end to his request. When Kaori packed away her tools, Hagiwara simply murmured,
"Thanks."
Then he headed into the bedroom. Lying on the bed, he stared at the ceiling.
*What was that?*
He'd asked seriously. Kaori had laughed it off. He'd been genuinely nervous. He'd been terrified she'd reject him again. If his own feelings had been a ten, hers couldn't even have been more than one or two. His thoughts became muddled.
*Was I supposed to be angry?*
*But getting angry because someone turned down sex...*
*Wouldn't that just make me the abusive one?*
*What kind of answer was I hoping for?*
He didn't want her grovelling in apology.
He didn't want to hear,
*"I'm terribly sorry I couldn't meet your expectations."*
No. What he'd wanted was simply to have sex with her. That was all. It was perfectly natural. But she didn't want to. You couldn't force someone. Getting angry would be even worse. Marriage and sex only worked when both people genuinely wanted them.
*Right.*
*If Kaori didn't want to... then that was that.*
*That wasn't the only reason we were together.*
She worked all day. Even when she came home exhausted, she still cooked dinner. She did the laundry. She even kept his nails looking neat.
As those thoughts circled in his head, he felt as though he were slowly sinking. The middle of the bed gave way beneath him. It was like being swallowed by a bottomless swamp.
A deep, dark hollow opened underneath him.
The gap between the two beds would never be bridged.
His phone vibrated in his hand. More precisely, the phone he'd been gripping unconsciously began vibrating as a new email arrived. The sudden buzz made him flinch.
*An email...*
The moment the thought crossed his mind, Hagiwara couldn't sit still. That morning, he'd received a message asking, *"What did you mean by that?"*
He hadn't replied. He opened his inbox, selected the message and immediately hit Reply. His fingers flew across the screen before he pressed Send.
Just for that moment, he felt strangely relieved, as though something inside him had been released. Not that it solved anything.
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"Haha..."
"You two really are close."
"You didn't have to correct yourself."
Nakarai looked faintly embarrassed. This time, Hagiwara managed a genuine, self-conscious smile. The scheduled time had passed.
"Let's call it a night for now."
He ushered everyone towards the exit, hurriedly checking for forgotten belongings and thanking the staff. At the door, one of the employees held out clear plastic umbrellas printed with the restaurant's logo.
"If you don't have one, please take one."
*So it was raining.*
Being in the basement-level restaurant, he hadn't noticed. When he stepped outside, he spotted Nakarai standing alone by the roadside. His face was tilted towards the sky, as though searching for something.
A passing car's headlights swept across his profile. For an instant, his long eyelashes glittered with raindrops. It lasted only a moment.
*You know...*
*If you'd pulled them all out, the rain would be getting straight into your eyes now.*
The thought almost escaped him. Then he remembered. Nakarai had called it *stress relief* with such a calm expression. Whatever had driven him to hurt himself that way wasn't something Hagiwara wanted to drag back into the light.
He let the thought die there.
The man standing in the rain looked far removed from anything as ordinary as everyday desires or emotions.
*"Every man's always thinking about that sort of thing,"* Nakarai had said.
Looking at him now, it was almost impossible to believe.
*He's nothing like that.*
*Whatever's filling his head... it isn't sex.*
*It must be something else entirely.*
*Though... it's none of my business.*
He borrowed one of the restaurant's umbrellas and hurried after him.
"Mr Nakarai."
Nakarai turned slowly. For a split second, Hagiwara's heart lurched. Rainwater ran down Nakarai's cheeks, making it look as though he had been crying.
"What are you doing out here?"
"I know."
"Hm?"
"It's raining."
Both the question and the answer sounded oddly foolish.
"I know."
Nakarai looked at him blankly.
"Just..."
"...it's been a long time."
"A long time since what?"
"The rain."
"It rained not that long ago, didn't it?"
"Yeah."
"But I live in a tower block that's directly connected to the station."
"I hardly ever get wet."
"My office is connected to the station too."
"So I haven't really heard the rain..."
"...or been caught in it..."
"...for ages."
"I'd even stopped carrying an umbrella."
"What floor do you live on?"
"The thirty-fifth."
"No wonder."
"I'd probably sleep better there."
"Our place is on the second floor."
"When it rains hard, the sound on the roof is so loud I can barely sleep."
Nakarai gave a small smile.
"I suppose it's just wanting what you don't have."
"Probably."
"Oh, by the way..."
"If you like the sound of rain, there's a website that plays nothing but rain sounds."
"Have you heard of it?"
"No."
"A senior recommended it to me."
"Said it was great for concentrating while you work."
"I just found it distracting."
Nakarai gave a small nod, though he didn't look particularly interested.
"Could I have your email address?"
"Sure."
Hagiwara reached into the inside pocket of his suit.
"...Ah."
He grimaced.
"Sorry."
"I think I left my discount voucher at the till when I paid."
"I'd better go and get it."
"You don't have to go that far."
As they stood talking, the shoulders of Nakarai's light coat were steadily darkening with rain. Hagiwara quickly snapped the clear umbrella open.
"Here."
"It has the restaurant's logo on it, but..."
"I'll pass."
"Returning it's a hassle."
"Bring it to the office on Monday."
"I'll drop it back at the restaurant."
"You'd do that?"
"I'm the organiser, remember?"
"My umbrella?"
"I've got a folding one."
Nakarai laughed quietly at that before finally taking hold of the handle.
"What are you laughing at?"
"I was just thinking..."
"...you really do come prepared for everything."
"For everything?"
"Thanks."
"And forget about the after-party."
"It's only just around the corner."
"No."
"I should get home."
Hagiwara had known that would be his answer. When Hagiwara heard Nakarai's voice, he found himself thinking,
*So he isn't alone after all.*
Someone was waiting for him. Someone in an apartment on the thirty-fifth floor where the sound of the rain never reached.
Perhaps that was why he no longer pulled out his eyelashes. It wasn't any of Hagiwara's business. Even so, he couldn't help thinking,
*...I'm glad.*
As Nakarai crossed at the traffic lights, the green signal glowed softly through the transparent umbrella.
The world beyond it blurred like a scene beneath the water's surface.
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By the time Nakarai reached home, his clothes were still slightly damp.
"It was raining?"
Kazuaki looked up in surprise.
"If you had an umbrella, how did you still end up soaked?"
"I don't know."
"It just... felt nice."
"You'll catch a cold."
He took the umbrella from Nakarai's hand and frowned.
"Didn't you buy this at a convenience store?"
"It's got writing on it."
"I borrowed it from the restaurant where the company drinks were."
"I have to return it on Monday."
"Then I'll leave it out to dry."
Nakarai let out a small sigh of relief. Kazuaki hated cheap plastic umbrellas. If he didn't explain where it had come from, Kazuaki would throw it away without a second thought.
*It doesn't matter if it's still perfectly usable or practically new.*
If something didn't fit his sense of aesthetics, he simply couldn't stand having it around.
"I'll get the bath ready."
"Thanks."
"Did the editor get home safely?"
"I should've sent you a message saying they had already left."
"Sorry."
"You might have waited around longer than you needed to."
"I thought maybe they'd been caught in the rain too."
"They'll be fine."
"They're an adult."
"Adults can look after themselves."
"I know."
"I just... hoped they didn't get soaked."
As he slipped off his damp socks in the entranceway, Nakarai smiled.
"It was actually quite a fun evening."
"Oh?"
"I was chatting with one of the sales guys."
"His girlfriend's a nail technician."
"Apparently she keeps his nails looking immaculate."
Kazuaki chuckled.
"So... he was showing off about his girlfriend."
"...I suppose so."
"I'd have got bored listening to that."
With a wry smile, Kazuaki disappeared into the bathroom.
*Showing off about his girlfriend...*
Was that really all it had been?
Nakarai wasn't entirely convinced. What lingered in his mind wasn't the conversation itself, but the brief, unguarded expression Hagiwara had worn.
For just an instant, he'd looked completely defenceless. The conversation hadn't naturally led there. They'd been talking about fingernails. Then Hagiwara had mentioned his girlfriend. Nakarai had said, *"She sounds like a good girlfriend."*
And somehow the conversation had veered off so abruptly, it was like turning the page of a book only to find it completely blank.
*Well... it's got nothing to do with me.*
He buried his face in the towel. It still carried the faint scent of rain. Instead of rainfall, all he could hear now was water filling the bathtub. As he soaked in the bath, his thoughts wandered to the things Kazuaki disliked.
Plastic umbrellas. Cigarettes. Towels that weren't white or natural linen. Clothes with any kind of pattern—even a tiny embroidered logo was too much. Calendars with photographs or illustrations.
Unless there was a special reason like tonight, none of those things was allowed inside the flat. The built-in television in the bathroom had even been removed when they'd renovated the place. The patch of wall where it had once been was still a slightly different shade.
What else...
Phone charms. He hated those too. Multi-function pens that combined a mechanical pencil and a ballpoint pen. Expandable storage racks. Tension rods.
*...He's actually pretty stubborn, isn't he?*
Then the thought struck him.
*Ah...*
*I forgot the most important one.*
*Sex.*
He sank deeper into the bath until the hot water reached his chin. When he stood up a little too quickly, the room lurched violently.
*Whoa... that's not good.*
At least he'd already finished washing. Steadying himself against the wall, he managed to open the bathroom door. With only a towel wrapped around his waist, he collapsed onto the bath mat. Even sitting upright felt exhausting. He let himself sink onto the floor of the changing room and stared up at the ceiling.
*I feel awful...*
Closing his eyes only made it worse. A harsh burst of static roared through his head like an untuned radio.
*Is that the sound of my blood rushing?*
He lay there without moving. A little while later, he heard footsteps approaching.
"Sei?"
"Hm?"
"...Sei?"
"I was wondering what was taking so long."
"You did get out of the bath, didn't you?"
"Huh?"
"I'm just lying down."
"What?"
"I feel sick."
"Stay where you are."
"I'll come in."
Even as he spoke, Kazuaki slid open the bathroom door.
The moment he saw Sei sprawled on the floor, he dropped to his knees in alarm.
"What happened?"
"It's probably just a bit of heat exhaustion."
"Or maybe the alcohol."
When Sei insisted he was fine where he was, Kazuaki shook his head.
"That's not happening."
Carefully, he slipped an arm around Sei's shoulders and helped him sit upright.
Sei could feel the blood slowly draining from his head as the dizziness eased.
"I'll get you some water."
"No."
"I made a mistake."
"You've had more to drink than I realised."
"I forgot that alcohol never shows on your face."
"It wasn't that much."
"Even so, getting into a hot bath afterwards was a bad idea."
"Do you want some water?"
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not."
"It might just be the heat..."
"...or maybe it's the alcohol."
Whether it was the alcohol, the email or listening to Hagiwara talk about his girlfriend, Sei no longer knew.
"Kazuaki..."
"Hm?"
"I love you."
Kazuaki's hand, supporting his back, stiffened almost imperceptibly.
Even so, his reply remained gentle.
"I love you too."
"Kazuaki..."
"Hm?"
The damp fringe hanging over Sei's eyes blurred his vision.
Perhaps that was why he could say it.
"You'd never say something like that if you were sober."
"I might say something even worse."
"...You're definitely drunk."
"I'll get you some water."
"Sei..."
The surprise in Kazuaki's voice sharpened into unmistakable refusal.
"Then have sex with me."
"Show me."
"If you can't..."
"...then let me watch you masturbate."
"Or watch me."
"At least until one of us finishes."
"Sei."
"..."
"I'll let go now."
"You'll be alright?"
"I don't want to hear those words from you."
"Please..."
"...put some proper clothes on."
"And keep yourself warm."
The footsteps faded away. Only Kazuaki's quiet sigh lingered behind. Before he could say anything else, Sei pushed past him. Still wearing nothing but a bath towel wrapped around his waist, he staggered into the kitchen.
He pulled a two-litre bottle of mineral water from the fridge, drank straight from it in long gulps without even bothering to pour a glass, then left the cap off and wandered unsteadily back towards the bedroom.
Regret, embarrassment and guilt threatened to split his head apart. Even so, beneath all of it lingered an irrational flicker of resentment towards Kazuaki.
*Ridiculous...*
He buried his face deeper into the pillow, annoyed with himself for feeling it at all. The voice through the sliding door hadn't been angry. Kazuaki hadn't sounded disgusted by him either. Only bewildered and sad.
Sliding onto his side, Sei's eyes fell on the phone he'd left on the bedside table before taking his bath. He reached out and began typing. It was the only thing he could think to do.
—-----
I'm sorry for taking so long to reply. I've been thinking about what you said. To be honest, being told something so personal so suddenly left me rather at a loss. Even so... I think I understand how you feel. And I'll be completely honest about why. I live with my best friend from university. He's a man. Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with him. Of course he's a man, and he has absolutely no romantic feelings for me. As far as he's concerned, I'm just a friend. If that were all, I suppose I could simply treat it as unrequited love.
...but he also says he wants us to stay together forever. So I'm trapped by lingering hope and my own desire. Our situations aren't the same, but in the sense of being left hanging, I suppose they are. In fact, just earlier tonight, emboldened by alcohol, I tried making a move again. The result was exactly the same as always. Now I'm lying alone in bed, writing this email. That's all I wanted to say. Thank you for reading."
—-----
He hit Send.
*This is probably the last time,* he thought.
Even if a reply came, it would probably be something like, *"Drop dead, you homo,"* or *"Don't lie. Quit making fun of me."*
Part of him regretted sending it, and he suspected he'd wake up embarrassed by it tomorrow morning. But for now he felt oddly relieved. Like he'd finally blurted something out that had been lodged in his chest.
It wouldn't have worked with someone he actually knew, yet posting it anonymously somewhere online would've felt too distant. That man from the mistaken email had occupied exactly the right sort of middle ground. Probably for him as well.
Just as he was about to go to sleep, a reply arrived.
Only four characters.
*"Seriously?"*
The blunt question struck him for some reason.
Sei nearly burst out laughing and hurriedly buried his face in the pillow. If Kazuaki heard him laughing, he'd probably start worrying that there really was something wrong with his head.
After muffling himself in the pillow until the laughter finally subsided, he lifted his head with a gasp and took several deep breaths. The dizziness and nausea had completely disappeared. For the moment, he simply replied:
*"Seriously."*