FUTTARA DOSHABURI
part 6.
“What?”
The man who had accidentally sent an email to the wrong person—a man troubled by his lover's lack of interest in sex—had finally realised his mistake.
“Hagiwara? No way... But there isn't anyone else by that name.”
The first person who came to mind was Hagiwara. He was typing a reply. Should he...?
He was honestly afraid to check, but Hagiwara's silence seemed to be telling him to read it.
Sei opened the new message. It contained nothing but a URL beginning with "http".
“…It's a website that plays the sound of rain. Apparently there's an app as well.”
“For now.”
Unable to suppress a laugh, Hagiwara smiled. It wasn't an outright laugh—just the slightest smile that softened his expression.
══[changbins_delulu_wife]══
Instead of suggesting omelette rice or curry, Hagiwara suddenly said,
“How about we have yakiniku instead?”
Nakarai silently nodded. He seemed to be thinking the same thing. After all, exchanging those awkward emails while at work had made the reality of the situation sink in. He suddenly felt like eating something hearty.
They found a yakiniku restaurant that was open for lunch, ordered two draft beers, and opened the menu.
“What would you like? If there's anything you don't eat, I'll choose for us. Though if you're eating with me, I have to recommend the tail soup. It's absolutely fantastic.”
“…Hagiwara.”
“Yes?”
“You don't have to be so polite.”
“Oh... Thank you very much. Then, for the meat... Would this be alright? A mixed platter, grilled vegetables, bone-in kalbi, marinated beef tongue and salted tongue. While the staff light the grill...”
Nakarai looked up and smiled.
“I think we're even now.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know... after everything that happened earlier.”
“I don't think there's any other way to look at it. We've both revealed plenty of embarrassing things about ourselves already, so doesn't that make us even?”
“…You're probably right.”
“No point putting on airs now. Honestly, I was pretty shocked too.”
Unsure how to respond, Hagiwara raised his beer in silence. Nakarai clinked his glass against it without another word.
“…Unexpected.”
“What was?”
Hagiwara drained nearly half his beer in one go before quietly murmuring,
“I never imagined... you'd be carrying around something that serious.”
“How did you know?”
“Well, it's not just that... The way you wrote those emails made it pretty obvious.”
“I see.”
“The more I thought about it, the more I started wondering if you and your girlfriend had moved in together or something.”
“…A girlfriend?”
“I was just reading through our conversation. I never imagined it might be another man.”
“I don't think Hagiwara would say something like that.”
The large platter of meat was placed on the table, and Nakarai immediately picked up the tongs, carefully arranging the slices on the grill.
“Um... Why are you doing that?”
“You'll burn it if you just leave it there.”
“Oh...”
“I'm not grilling the meat for you.”
“Really?”
“I just happen to like grilling it.”
Nakarai couldn't help laughing. The way Hagiwara fussed over the meat reminded him of someone.
“I see... Years ago, whenever my family went out to eat, there was always someone who grilled everything for everyone.”
“Oh?”
“He was a bit of an oddball. He'd give the most meticulous self-introductions, and when it came to work he was as sharp as a knife, but at card games he'd obsess over every tiny detail. He looked delicate, yet... no, maybe 'meticulous' is a better word. In any case, he wasn't the sort of person you'd expect.”
The way Hagiwara quietly watched the meat as it cooked brought that man vividly back to mind.
Maybe it was because they had a similar air about them. Or perhaps it was simply the lonely expression that lingered on Hagiwara's face whenever he lowered his eyes.
“Would you mind if I grilled it for you?”
“…Go ahead.”
The beef tongue cooked almost immediately, so Nakarai lifted it onto Hagiwara's plate before laying out another batch.
The lemon juice soaked into the first slice. He began grilling more meat while concentrating on eating. When he ordered a second draft beer, Hagiwara tilted his head.
“So... the type of person Nakarai likes is someone who fusses over things like this?”
“…How did we get onto that topic?”
“Well... if you don't mind me asking, what made you like him?”
Nakarai opened his mouth, then hesitated, staring absently at the wire mesh over the grill.
“Ah... Sorry. I shouldn't have asked.”
“No, it's alright. My parents died in an accident when I was in my third year at university, and for about six months afterwards I was in a really bad place mentally. At that time, he stayed by my side. Even if I lashed out at him or completely lost control, he supported me without ever giving up. Maybe that was when I first realised what love was. Or perhaps I'd been reborn with a whole new outlook on life. Even now, I'm not really sure.”
“I see.”
Hagiwara nodded and raised one hand slightly.
“May I ask you something?”
“What is it?”
“I know it's rather rude for an outsider to say this, but... Nakarai, you're carrying far too much on your shoulders.”
Nakarai frowned slightly.
“I don't dislike it. It's just... if it's something important enough that you'd normally discuss it with a friend, I can't help wondering why you've ended up telling me instead.”
“Well...”
The crease between Hagiwara's brows deepened.
“Honestly, I don't really know myself.”
“I suppose that's fair.”
Nakarai suddenly burst out laughing.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Hagiwara tilted his head.
“I just realised something.”
“What?”
“If I'd actually been in a one-sided sexual relationship, wouldn't I have been dumped already?”
“…What do you mean?”
“I mean, if I kept doing things like suddenly thrusting during foreplay, lying there like a dead fish, telling my partner to do all the work, falling asleep with my back turned straight afterwards...”
“Oh, for goodness' sake!”
“And then asking them to film it, or take photos...”
“Enough!”
Hagiwara groaned and buried his face in his hands.
“You're making it sound even worse.”
Nakarai laughed so hard he almost snorted.
“So... was there anything else in those messages?”
“No, nothing like that. But... seeing what I'd written made me think about my own sex life. Maybe I should've asked her to tell me what she thought.”
“...No. Don't.”
“Hm?”
“Let's not continue that conversation.”
Nakarai looked up at the smoke drifting towards the extractor hood and gave a quiet snort.
For the first time that day, Hagiwara seemed genuinely flustered.
“I've seen enough of your sex life already. I don't think I need a review as well.”
“…Fair point.”
“Besides, if you ask her, she might actually answer.”
“…No, you're right. Let's leave it.”
Once again, yakiniku proved to be the perfect topic changer.
There were always more cuts of meat to order, more side dishes to recommend, and countless little conversations that naturally steered them away from awkward subjects.
“Have you ever thought about getting married?”
The question caught him off guard.
Silently, Nakarai picked up a slice of harami with his chopsticks, dipped it into his sauce, and took a bite. Only after swallowing did he answer.
“…No.”
“Really?”
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
“We're from different generations. Maybe it's because of what I saw growing up. By the time I was in secondary school, I'd started worrying about whether my parents would end up arguing again that night.”
“…I see.”
Hagiwara lowered his gaze. Nakarai gave a wry smile.
“I used to think that a couple with children had to get along. Looking back now, it was a childish way of thinking.”
“…That's actually rather nice.”
“Hm?”
“The way you think.”
He'd said it casually. But there was a sincerity in those quiet words that Nakarai hadn't expected. Embarrassed, he fell silent. Seeing that, Hagiwara quietly reached for another piece of meat and placed it on the grill.
“…What?”
“Nothing.”
Little by little, the bitterness faded into laughter. Over grilled meat rather than alcohol, they found themselves talking more easily.
“My friends always tell me I don't understand women.”
“Back when you were a student?”
“Yeah. They say I still don't.”
“Why?”
“I never really know what women are thinking. Whether they like me or not. Even if we end up breaking up, I don't realise there's a problem until it's already happened. Looking back, I suppose I was a pretty awful boyfriend.”
“I thought you said you and your girlfriend had a normal sex life.”
“We did.”
“And that was all?”
“That's all.”
“…How strange.”
“I thought so too. If she'd suddenly become cold towards me, or rejected me, I would've noticed. But nothing like that ever happened.”
Hagiwara shrugged.
“The only thing I could think of was that she'd once said she liked men who weren't obsessed with appearances. It reminded me of one of those chain emails that used to go around years ago.”
“Oh?”
“Something like, 'Would a young man like this catch your attention?' Then it described someone exactly like you, Nakarai.”
“And?”
“It ended with, 'Wouldn't you have any trouble marrying someone like that? He doesn't even masturbate.'”
“…What?”
“See? Pretty odd, isn't it?”
Nakarai couldn't help laughing.
“So she actually thought that?”
“Apparently.”
“Just because someone doesn't show any interest in masturbation doesn't mean they never do it.”
“I know.”
“You really don't?”
“No. I honestly don't.”
“…You've got to be kidding.”
“Well…”
“To be honest, the happiest I'd ever been before now was when I was preparing for my university entrance exams. I was so focused that I barely thought about anything else. Then, about a month later, I had a dream in which I climbed Mount Fuji. On the fifth day, I reached a mountain hut, opened the door... and a naked old man was waiting for me. He said, 'Congratulations. You've finally become an adult.'”
“…Was that really a dream?”
“Yes. Everything flowed naturally in the dream, so I just accepted it. But when I woke up the next morning and found my underwear stained, I thought, 'Bloody hell... did I ejaculate because of a map of the world?'”
“You idiot.”
Nakarai slapped the table and burst into laughter. It was such a ridiculous story, yet it had been told with such complete sincerity that all he could do was laugh.
“I had no idea men's lives could lose half their value over something like a wet dream.”
“Come on, Hagiwara. Wouldn't it be better if you just kept enjoying them?”
“That's completely different.”
“Honestly... Men can be so ridiculous.”
“Seems that way.”
Even though he had known men could be just as childish, he had never truly realised the extent of it.
══[changbins_delulu_wife]══
By the time they left the restaurant, the rain had completely stopped.
As Nakarai wondered whether Hagiwara had dashed into the convenience store next door, he saw him return carrying a small shopping bag.
“Here.”
Hagiwara held out a can of fabric deodoriser.
“You're surprisingly meticulous.”
“Not really. I hate the smell.”
“The smell of meat?”
“No. Smoke.”
“…Smoke?”
“I don't mind eating meat. I don't like the smell of barbecue clinging to my clothes.”
“What do you mean?”
As he spoke, Hagiwara sprayed the shoulders and back of his jacket.
“I hate the feeling of being surrounded by smoke while I'm eating. Having yakiniku in a place thick with smoke is about as much as I can tolerate.”
“So after eating yakiniku, you can't even go home until you've got rid of the smell?”
“Well, I wouldn't put it quite like that. It's just... if my girlfriend hated the smell of curry, I wouldn't want to go home smelling of spices.”
“…Ah.”
Maybe that was it.
Yet something still didn't quite fit. A vague sense of unease lingered, one he couldn't explain.
“Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For telling me.”
Hagiwara smiled.
“Well then... I'll be off.”
He'd already freshened his breath with mint tablets, yet apparently that still wasn't enough.
Watching Hagiwara's back disappear into the distance, Nakarai thought,
*So the person I'd been exchanging emails with all this time... was Hagiwara.*
Sei was a man who had fallen in love with another man and lost both his parents in an accident.
He hated cars, and every time Nakarai casually said, "I'd rather get hit by a car," it had quietly upset him.
He disliked flowers as they withered. He disliked trimming his nails a little at a time.
When he imagined a woman, he thought of smooth, healthy skin. He was someone who cherished life itself and the warmth of holding another person.
On the walk home, Nakarai kept turning it over in his mind. The moment he'd understood all of that, his first feeling had been relief.
Not that his heart had suddenly begun racing, but the embarrassment Hagiwara had spoken of had, somehow, balanced the scales between them.
Ordinarily, once you learned about someone's sex life, it became difficult to speak to them as casually as before. Yet instead of regretting it, he'd actually enjoyed the conversation.
Why was that? More importantly, why had he found it so enjoyable?
Nakarai wasn't naturally sociable. There were only a handful of people he could laugh with over silly things, spend time with, or casually greet first thing in the morning.
Eventually, he arrived at one answer. Ever since his parents died, he'd shut himself away from other people.
He'd kept only the minimum relationships necessary to graduate from university, and even his lecturers had been considerate enough to leave him alone.
Whenever an explanation was needed at his part-time jobs, Kazuaki had stepped in on his behalf, explaining everything and allowing him to get by without facing anyone himself.
His friends had reached out to him time and again. But Nakarai had ignored every attempt.
He couldn't bring himself to look at the emails from his parents, or even the photographs they had taken together. He couldn't help thinking about it now.
After all these years, he'd finally made peace with it, yet Kazuaki had said, ‘I'll be there soon.’ He'd become far too conscious of him.
When he got home, Kazuaki had arrived only moments earlier. As he set his bag down and washed his hands, he heard the front door open.
“I'm home.”
“Welcome back.”
As he dried his hands and stepped into the living room, Kazuaki looked at him for a long moment, as though the past few days were reflected in his eyes.
“How was work?”
“The same as always.”
“I see.”
They had never lived together before. Apart from the circumstances, it wasn't a particularly significant change, yet it had taken him completely by surprise.
As usual, Kazuaki brewed coffee with practised hands and called out,
“Hey.”
“Hm?”
“Do you remember Hirai and Eto from university?”
“Of course I do. Why?”
“I just wondered what they're up to now.”
“I've no idea. We never kept in touch after graduation.”
“If we don't know anything, then we don't know.”
The silver kettle Kazuaki had polished until it gleamed reflected blue flames. Steam rose from its spout in a thin stream.
Kazuaki circled the kettle with practised movements, pouring hot water slowly into the dripper. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen.
“If you wanted to get back in touch, why not start a Facebook account? You'd probably find them straight away.”
“Yeah.”
The quiet kitchen they now shared. The white mug Kazuaki had chosen sat comfortably in his large hands.
Watching the surface of the coffee gradually settle, Sei found himself thinking that perhaps there was no need to contact anyone after all.
Maybe he didn't have to explain their current living arrangement to clear up any misunderstandings. At least, he didn't want Hagiwara to misunderstand him.
“…Sei?”
For a moment, something bright flickered through his mind. The way Kazuaki had called his name made it bounce around inside him like a small marble.
“…Hm?”
“What is it? You're staring into space.”
“No... It's just... I concluded.”
“What kind of conclusion?”
Sei smiled, looking only mildly amused. Before going to bed, he remembered Hagiwara’s email.
He searched for his earphones, tucked his phone into his pocket, opened the rain sounds website, and started playing it.
As expected, the sound of rain, and even distant thunder, was surprisingly soothing. It was easy to understand why Hagiwara had chosen it as something to fall asleep to.
Before he knew it, the sound of rain filled his ears. The gentle patter spread through the earphones, and as he closed his eyes against the pillow, he gradually became drowsy.
Wrapped in the sound of rain, he quietly smiled.
*Not bad.*
Then Hagiwara's face suddenly flashed through his mind.
He still didn't know what expression Hagiwara had made as he held the can of deodorising spray. Why had he reacted the way he had?
It wasn't a major issue. Just one tiny detail had drifted through his thoughts like the sound of rain, only to sink into the darkness before he could grasp it.
Perhaps he would remember it once he woke up. Or perhaps it was nothing worth remembering at all.
════[changbins_delulu_wife]════
The Tokyo Underground really is remarkable.
Every time they extend another line, the network becomes even more complicated. Before you know it, you're changing escalators and peering down through glass panels at older platforms below.
The tunnels weave through the city like an enormous anthill, with new lines running so close to existing ones that it's hard to believe they're separate routes.
The lines connect at countless points, allowing passengers to transfer almost anywhere. Yet despite all that, the foundations never interfere with one another.
That alone is astonishing.
If someone asked what made it possible, the answer would be that Japan's engineers carefully planned every detail, reinforcing everything with solid concrete instead of relying on guesswork.
Perhaps it sounds like a foolish answer.
“…You know, people often say that aeroplanes are safer than cars.”
“Why's that?”
“Because statistically they're healthier.”
“…Healthier isn't exactly the right word.”
“Well, if you keep thinking about things like that, you won't be able to live.”
Nakarai said it matter-of-factly.
“When people start wondering why aeroplanes don't fall out of the sky, they're already assuming they'll crash.”
“So you fly because you believe they won't?”
“Exactly.”
“That's just a metaphor.”
“No, I'm serious.”
Hagiwara answered with a completely straight face.
The pint glasses were set down with a dull clink.
It was the little round table where they had first shared yakiniku together. As always, they raised their glasses in silence.
As long as they were drinking together, words weren't always necessary.
Every Wednesday had become their regular evening after work. If Hagiwara finished work on time, he'd naturally head straight there.
Even though they were both salaried employees, the day's fatigue somehow seemed easier to bear than on any other day.
Before long, that unspoken rule of always saying, "Thanks," before parting had quietly disappeared.
Now that they knew each other well enough, the polished façade each had maintained had naturally begun to fall away.
On Wednesday evenings after work, they no longer bothered making plans.
They drifted towards one another, stopping at a bar or a small sushi restaurant to grab something to eat before heading off for a drink.
When Hagiwara stood up to order another round, Nakarai watched him for a moment.
*What would his girlfriend say if she heard us talking like this?*
“What?”
“Nothing.”
*Maybe I'm overthinking it.*
Once two people reach the point where they can speak without reserve, there's no need to question every little remark.
*Still...*
*Isn't it strange that something so insignificant keeps bothering me?**
“What, have I got something on my face?”
“No...”
Nakarai found himself wondering if Hagiwara had changed. Not in any dramatic way. It wasn't that he'd deliberately lowered his guard or started exposing his true self.
It was more like watching a child turning over a large stone with a stick. There was no intention behind it. No expectation that something interesting would be hidden underneath.
You lifted it to see what was there. It wasn't that he believed there had to be something underneath, just that if there happened to be, he'd like to know.
“Oh... never mind.”
“What is it”
“The more I think about it, the less important it seems.”
Perhaps it was nothing more than idle curiosity. Or perhaps he couldn't stop wondering.
“So, Nakarai.”
“Hm?”
“You don't usually start conversations like this. But you've always had that kind of air about you. When you ask questions, it almost feels as though what matters to you isn't the answer itself, but whether I'm talking to you naturally.”
“…Because that's what's important.”
“You're not really interested in finding out the answer.”
“Not particularly.”
“So... what kind of television do you watch, Nakarai?”
“None.”
“Huh? You don't watch television?”
“No.”
Nakarai didn't start the conversation this time. Living together with someone changes the way you notice little things about them.
The moment Hagiwara casually added, "We should watch something together sometime," Nakarai realised it for certain.
His parents had loved television. TV dramas. Films. They were forever borrowing DVDs and planning dates around what was on that weekend. Most evenings, the television had been left on in the background.
Ever since then, he'd found it difficult not to think of them whenever he watched television.
“…Does it still make you sad?”
“No.”
“Hm?”
“I don't dislike television.”
“So it's not that?”
“No.”
This time, it was Nakarai who quietly continued.
“Whenever I watch it with someone else, I stop paying attention to what's actually on the screen.”
“…I see.”
“The programme itself doesn't really matter.”
“Hm.”
“When I'm with someone, I end up watching them instead.”
There had always been someone beside him on weekend evenings. His parents would sit shoulder to shoulder on the sofa, chatting about what they were watching.
Sometimes they laughed together. Sometimes they argued over which actor was better; even those ordinary moments had become precious memories.
“That's why I don't watch television much anymore.”
“…Because it reminds you of them?”
“Maybe.”
Hagiwara took a sip of his drink before smiling faintly.
“I think I understand.”
“Really?”
“When I was little, my mother used to fall asleep with the television on.”
“…Mm.”
“So even now, I can't sleep unless there's some kind of sound in the background.”
Nakarai blinked.
“…Is that why you sent me the rain sounds?”
“Probably.”
Hagiwara gave a small shrug.
“I don't really know myself. I just thought... if silence makes it easier to dwell on things, then maybe having something gentle to listen to makes it easier to let them go.”
For a while, neither of them spoke. They sipped their drinks. The silence between them wasn't awkward anymore. It had become something comfortable. Something they could share without needing to fill it with words.
“…Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For sending me that email.”
Hagiwara smiled.
“I told you before, didn't I?”
“What?”
“You've got a nice smile.”
For the first time in a long while...
Nakarai found himself smiling without even realising it.
“It's not as sad as it was back then.”
“…I see.”
“But I've thought about it before. Maybe I don't actually have children of my own yet.”
Nakarai's expression remained unreadable.
“So you're saying that's just how ordinary people are? But to me... I don't know. Maybe your uncle and aunt love Kazuaki so much because they don't have children of their own. They even seriously talked about registering you on the family register.”
“…You're starting to sound worried.”
When the conversation reached that point, Nakarai suddenly stiffened.
*Have I said something that made him uncomfortable?*
He tried to suppress the thought, but Nakarai looked as though he had given up trying to hide his reaction.
The office building across the street reflected the city lights against its glass façade.
Watching the crowds drift through the streets at night, Hagiwara spoke almost absent-mindedly.
“I've got a colleague who commutes with me.”
“…Oh?”
“He's in the Planning and Development department.”
“So?”
“He mentioned something the other day. He said, 'I've got a girlfriend, but she's different from the girl who waits for me after work.'”
“…What?”
“At first I thought I'd misheard him.”
Nakarai frowned slightly.
“He explained, 'I meet my girlfriend after work, but she's not the same girl I walk to the station with.'”
“I don't get it.”
“I didn't either. Then it clicked.”
“How?”
“He wasn't talking about women at all.”
“…What?”
“He meant his younger sister.”
“…Seriously?”
“She worked nearby, so they walked to the station together every evening. The girl waiting for him after work was his girlfriend.”
“…That's unbelievably confusing.”
“I know.”
Hagiwara laughed.
“After hearing that, I started paying more attention to the people around me.”
“…Why?”
“Because when you only catch fragments of a conversation, it's surprisingly easy to misunderstand what kind of relationship people have.”
Nakarai rested his elbow on the table, listening quietly.
“You'll see a man and a woman sitting close together in a café and naturally assume they're a couple.”
“…Mm.”
“But maybe they're just colleagues.”
“Or brother and sister.”
“Exactly.”
“Or childhood friends.”
“Right.”
“If you overhear them saying, 'I love you,' you immediately think they're lovers.”
“But maybe…”
“They're talking to their child on the phone.”
Nakarai let out a quiet laugh.
“That really does happen.”
“Or you hear someone say, 'I've finally taken the plunge,' and you assume they're talking about marriage.”
“…When actually…”
“They've just bought a new car.”
“…You're impossible.”
“That's why I try not to jump to conclusions anymore.”
For a moment, Nakarai stared at him.
Then he smiled.
“…You're kinder than you look.”
Hagiwara blinked.
“Is that a compliment?”
“I think so.”
It was the first time in a long while that the smile reached Nakarai's eyes.