メロウレイン / Futtara Doshaburi Mellow Rain

Answered Pray

 

(Please enjoy this together with “little prayer” from long hello.)

 

One of Hagiwara’s university friends was getting married, so he attended both the reception and the after-party. He had not been asked to organise anything or provide entertainment, which meant he could simply relax as an ordinary guest. At the after-party bingo, he even won one of the better prizes.

 

“All right! Hagiwara-san, friend of the groom, wins a pair of champagne glasses! Give him a hand, everyone. Congratulations! Do you have someone to drink with?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Apparently he does! Ah, look at the ladies visibly losing hope. Bad luck!”

 

The moment Hagiwara returned to the table, his friends descended on him.

 

“You seeing someone?”

 

“Are you still with that nail technician?”

 

“Idiot, how old is that story? He said they broke up ages ago.”

 

“You getting married? Mine’s next year, so if you are, I need to make sure the dates don’t clash.”

 

Hagiwara brushed the attacks aside.

 

When someone asked the safer question, “Are the glasses Baccarat?” he gave a proper answer.

 

“Doesn’t look like it.”

 

When people started digging into his private life, Hagiwara had learned that answering one or two harmless questions properly made it easier to smoke-screen the rest.

 

“What brand are they, then?”

 

Inside the plain paper bag was a white box.

 

Hagiwara untied the blue ribbon without much ceremony and lifted the lid.

 

Two tumblers lay inside on blue velvet.

 

“Oh, those are nice,” someone said.

 

They were colourless glass tumblers, each protected at the bottom by a silver base that looked as though it was meant to be held.

 

Hagiwara liked that they were not overly formal.

 

Expensive tableware had a habit of being put away and never used in the everyday life of a single office worker.

 

At the bottom of the bag was an envelope containing a shop card.

 

A sheet describing the product and its care instructions had the brand logo printed in one corner.

 

The moment Hagiwara saw it, his heart jumped.

 

Wait.

 

This was the design group that Fujisawa Kazuaki—the man Sei had once loved, who happened to share Hagiwara’s given name—belonged to.

 

It was a brand made up of several designers, so that did not necessarily mean Fujisawa had worked on these glasses.

 

Would he even make something like this?

 

Hagiwara felt a slight mismatch.

 

He imagined Fujisawa designing things almost like distilled water: clean, neutral, stripped of scent or flavour.

 

These glasses were not flamboyant, but they contained a definite playfulness.

 

Once the question entered Hagiwara’s head, he could not leave it alone.

 

Eventually he excused himself, went outside the venue and took out his phone.

 

He opened the brand’s website, went to the Product section and found the glasses.

 

They were Fujisawa Kazuaki’s design after all.

 

What do I do?

 

Hagiwara stared at the screen.

 

It was not exactly a problem.

 

Not really.

 

But he did not want Sei to notice Hagiwara worrying and then start worrying about Hagiwara worrying.

 

Sei was waiting at Hagiwara’s flat tonight.

 

Taking the glasses home and hiding them first would probably be difficult.

 

He could secretly give them to someone here…

 

Except he had just announced in front of everyone that he had someone to drink with.

 

And, if Hagiwara was being completely honest, he had liked the glasses from the moment he saw them.

 

Learning who had designed them did not change that.

 

He was not angry or resentful.

 

If anything, there was a strange kind of relief in knowing that Fujisawa had a life and time of his own continuing somewhere else.

 

Not relief from above, not pity.

 

Just relief.

 

Still.

 

What do I do?

 

“Hagiwara.”

 

Someone called to him while he stared at his phone.

 

“Looks like they’re about to do the final greeting.”

 

“Ah, sorry. Coming.”

 

“Third party?”

 

“I’m skipping it. I’ve been here since the reception.”

 

“Fair. Hey, can you tell me who made those glasses? It’s my wedding anniversary next month. I might buy a pair.”

 

“Sure. I’ll give you the shop card.”

 

“You don’t mind?”

 

“No.”

 

That was it, Hagiwara decided.

 

If Sei never saw the card, it should be fine.

 

There might be a maker’s mark somewhere on the glass itself, but Sei was unlikely to inspect it that closely.

 

And even if there were no clues and Sei somehow recognised the designer anyway—

 

Then Hagiwara would deal with it when it happened.

 

He would watch Sei’s reaction and decide what to do from there.

 

Carrying the wedding favour in one hand and the bingo prize in the other, Hagiwara returned home.

 

Sei was in the bath.

 

“I’m home.”

 

He called through the door.

 

“Welcome back,” Sei answered from inside.

 

“Want me to come in? I’m nearly done.”

 

“Mm, not yet.”

 

Hagiwara hung up his jacket and tie, then quickly washed the new glasses.

 

He drank a large glass of water from an ordinary tumbler and sat blankly at the dining table for a while.

 

Eventually Sei came out.

 

“Welcome back.”

 

He said it again, bending down and resting his still-wet head against Hagiwara’s shoulder from behind.

 

Sei seemed to like having his hair stroked over Hagiwara’s shoulder that way.

 

Sometimes he would even sit down and specifically say, “Face the other way,” just so he could lean against him and be fussed over.

 

“Have fun?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I won some glasses at bingo,” Hagiwara volunteered before Sei could ask.

 

“What kind?”

 

“They said champagne glasses. I washed them. They’re over there.”

 

“Can I look?”

 

“Go ahead.”

 

Sei went to the kitchen and picked up one of the glasses, separated from its base.

 

“What’s this? How do you use it?”

 

“Slot it into the silver part.”

 

“Huh. When you said champagne glass, I pictured one of those tall skinny ones with a stem. This looks useful for other drinks too. Nice.”

 

“Want a beer?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Hagiwara fitted the glasses into their bases and poured beer to about seventy per cent full.

 

“You could fit more in that,” Sei complained.

 

“No, this is right. Pass me yours.”

 

The bottom of each glass had been cut into irregular facets.

 

If the instructions were correct, filling them right to the top was a bad idea.

 

Hagiwara brought the two tumblers close together and carefully set them on the table.

 

They leaned against each other as if their rims were magnetic, balancing together.

 

“They’re designed to balance like this. One by itself falls over, so when you pick them up, you lift both at the same time. If you put one into its silver base, it can stand alone.”

 

“Oh. That’s clever. They’re really well made.”

 

Sei looked genuinely impressed.

 

He had not noticed anything.

 

So he doesn’t recognise it anymore.

 

Hagiwara did not know whether that was because of the time that had passed for Sei or the time that had passed for Fujisawa.

 

But perhaps there was no need to regret change or be afraid of things continuing to change.

 

Hagiwara looked across the table at Sei.

 

Together, they lifted the glasses and toasted.