メロウレイン / Futtara Doshaburi Mellow Rain

The Heart Won’t Return

 

“Sometimes I get this urge to have a scarf the colour of a pigeon’s neck.”

 

Sei said it as they walked side by side along the riverside path near Hagiwara’s flat. Several pigeons were perched on the railing, so he had probably been looking at them.

 

“What colour even is a pigeon’s neck? Purple? Grey? Green? Blue?”

 

“Iridescent, if I had to call it anything. It looks different depending on the light.”

 

“You want to wrap something that flashy round your neck? I don’t think it’d suit you.”

 

At Hagiwara’s blunt answer, Sei looked faintly offended.

 

“Birds get all fluffy around this time of year, don’t they? Then they tuck their heads into the feathers round their necks and sort of close their eyes like, ahh. Whenever I see that, I’m jealous.”

 

“That’s got absolutely nothing to do with wanting a scarf.”

 

Still, when Hagiwara saw the plump little sparrows in winter, round as if they were wearing padded coats, he could not deny that having built-in insulation looked useful.

 

“Shall I get you one for Christmas?”

 

“Nah. You said it wouldn’t suit me. Besides, I don’t think they sell them—oh, look at that.”

 

One of the ducks that had seemed to be bobbing lazily on the dull green river suddenly bent its neck and vanished soundlessly beneath the surface. The water was so murky that they lost sight of it immediately.

 

“Think it’s catching fish?”

 

“No idea.”

 

They both leaned against the railing. The pigeons that had been resting there took off with a put-upon air, and Sei murmured, “Ah, sorry,” after them.

 

“Where do you think it’ll come back up?”

 

“Hmm… over there?”

 

Hagiwara pointed at a random spot not far from the flock. They watched the surface for a while, but there was no sign of the duck. The others drifted around as though they could not care less.

 

“…Can water birds drown?”

 

“No.”

 

Hagiwara answered automatically, then found himself leaning a little farther over the rail.

 

“Ah.”

 

The duck reappeared almost a hundred metres from where it had gone under. It thrashed the water for a moment as though attempting another dramatic surfacing, then abruptly folded its wings and settled into the shape of a bath toy.

 

“Whoa. That’s impressive.”

 

They looked so placid that it was easy to forget they were wild animals. Hagiwara thought human standards were probably useless for judging what they could do when Sei, who had apparently been hoping to witness a real hunt, glared at the empty-beaked duck.

 

“What was the point of all that, then?”

 

“…What?”

 

Hagiwara had not laughed aloud, but apparently Sei had noticed anyway.

 

“No… it’s just funny how you talk to animals completely naturally, Nakarai-san.”

 

“I don’t.”

 

“You do. You did it just now, and earlier. Whenever you see a cat, you’ll casually go, ‘What are you doing?’”

 

It was not as though Sei was some enormous animal lover, and he probably did not genuinely believe he was communicating with them. He just talked to them in the same matter-of-fact tone he used for everything else.

 

“Don’t make me sound like some painfully weird bloke.”

 

“You don’t. It’s funny. Nobody thinks an old grandad chatting to a cat on the veranda is weird, do they?”

 

That comparison only seemed to make Sei more annoyed.

 

“Hagiwara. Get your year-end tax adjustment paperwork in early.”

 

“What’s that got to do with anything? Anyway, I haven’t even had the insurance postcard yet.”

 

“Sales are late every single year, so I’m telling you now.”

 

“December’s busy.”

 

“Everyone’s busy.”

 

“Oh, come on.”

 

Hagiwara watched Sei’s back as he walked with that faint side-to-side sway he had whenever he had nowhere in particular to be. Right, it was nearly December. Soon the sunlight would become colder and clearer, bright enough to make it hard to keep his eyes open as it flashed across the murky river.

 

A little later, the three of them met up at the agreed place. Hagiwara lifted one hand.

 

“Sorry. Mind if I buy that first?”

 

He pointed to a tiny lottery kiosk tucked beside a bank.

 

“Go ahead,” Hiraiwa said with a nod.

 

“If I don’t buy them when I remember, I’ll forget. I’ll be right back.”

 

As Hagiwara joined the short queue, Hiraiwa asked Sei, “Does Hagiwara-san like the lottery?”

 

“No idea. Never heard him mention it. I suppose he must if he’s willing to queue.”

 

Hagiwara came back holding a surprisingly thick bundle, and both of them stared.

 

“How many did you buy?”

 

“A hundred.”

 

“You’re dreaming way too big.”

 

“They’re not all mine. Well, some of my money’s in there.”

 

Once inside the restaurant, Hagiwara explained that the Sales Department pooled funds each year to buy tickets together.

 

“It was my turn to buy them this year. I hate holding on to other people’s money, so I wanted to get it done early.”

 

“A group lottery purchase? That sounds like a perfect way to start a war.”

 

If they actually won something huge, it felt like it could destroy every relationship in the department.

 

“It’s not like we’re going to win… although, saying that, we did win a hundred thousand yen two years ago.”

 

“Oh, that’s pretty good,” Hiraiwa said. “Did you split it?”

 

Hagiwara gave a wry smile.

 

“We talked about using it for a department night out, but the section chief went, ‘Don’t play it safe!’ So we put the whole lot into the next Summer Jumbo.”

 

“And?”

 

“Total defeat.”

 

“What a waste…”

 

“If it’d been a million, I think somebody would’ve objected, but with a hundred thousand it was more like, ah well, maybe next time.”

 

“Speaking of the lottery…”

 

Hiraiwa, who had been industriously gnawing on a spare rib, looked up.

 

“That’s actually how Nakarai and I first spoke.”

 

“Huh? I don’t remember that at all.”

 

“Why are you so naturally heartless?”

 

It could not be helped if Sei genuinely did not remember.

 

“What did you talk about?” Hagiwara asked.

 

“Let’s see. First year at uni, we were in the same language class. One time a group of us were meeting for food, and just like today, only Nakarai and I were there at first. We’d never spoken before and, well… he’s not exactly got the friendliest atmosphere, has he? So I was feeling awkward, thinking, Somebody hurry up and get here.”

 

Wiping sauce from his fingers with a napkin, Hiraiwa’s face brightened with the memory.

 

“Then Nakarai kept staring at this lottery booth. I thought he wanted to buy a ticket, but all of a sudden he turns to me with a completely straight face and goes, ‘What would happen if the woman in that little hut handed somebody the winning ticket, slammed the shutter down and ran away with it?’”

 

“Little hut,” Hagiwara repeated, laughing.

 

“I thought, What the hell? Has he been standing there with that cool face thinking about this the whole time? It cracked me up, so I asked him, ‘What would you do if you won three hundred million yen?’ And he looked annoyed and went, ‘Take a bath in Evian every day or something.’”

 

“That sounds like you, Nakarai-san.”

 

“Did I really say that…?”

 

“What about you, Hagiwara-san?” Hiraiwa asked. “If you won three hundred million, would you quit your job?”

 

“Maybe. I wouldn’t quit for a hundred million, though. With three hundred, I’d probably do some easy part-time work, keep my standard of living about the same and live normally. Maybe take taxis without thinking twice.”

 

“Not exactly a dream, but that’s probably what most people would do.”

 

“When you’re an adult, there isn’t that much stuff you desperately want, is there?”

 

Sei tilted his glass.

 

“It’s not that there’s nothing I want. It’s just that unless we’re talking about a luxury car or a flat, I can normally buy it. Maybe wait for my bonus if it’s expensive.”

 

“That’s because you’re single,” Hiraiwa said.

 

“Hmm. I don’t think that’s it. When I was a kid, I wanted everything. Especially in December. The whole world looked shiny.”

 

“That’s because you didn’t earn your own money,” Hagiwara said.

 

“Exactly. When you don’t have the means to get something, the thing itself starts to look extraordinary.”

 

Hagiwara excused himself to send a message, and once he had gone, Hiraiwa turned to Sei with a teasing look.

 

“Nakarai, do you remember this restaurant?”

 

“Of course.”

 

It was the place where Hiraiwa had met him again—when Sei had been here with Hagiwara.

 

“I’m still surprised you gave him your business card. Didn’t you think he might be dodgy?”

 

“Obviously I was taken aback at first. But Hagiwara-san showed me his card too and properly identified himself. I decided he didn’t seem like a strange person. I’m actually pretty good at judging people.”

 

“Do you have to say that about yourself?”

 

“Nobody else is going to say it.”

 

“That makes it less convincing.”

 

“Oh, come on… Anyway. When I heard he was your colleague, it felt really strange. You, a salaryman? Then it hit me how much time had passed. Being students really was ages ago.”

 

Hiraiwa smiled softly.

 

“I don’t know what you’re like at work. He does. And for some reason you seem to work really hard. So I was glad, thinking he must understand the good bits about you too—the way you’re blunt but suddenly say something funny, how dependable you are, all that.”

 

“Are you my parent or something…?”

 

Sei turned his face away, too embarrassed to look at him. He was being cherished by both a friend and a man who was not merely a friend. Children could accept being loved without shame, but as an adult, being treated as precious could make a person painfully self-conscious.

 

And perhaps that embarrassment meant he had finally learnt how rare and valuable it was.

 

“Sorry.”

 

Hagiwara came back to the table.

 

“I’ve got to go back to the office for a bit.”

 

“Trouble?” Sei asked.

 

“Apparently there’s been a mistake arranging some stock. Hiraiwa-san, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

 

“No, no. Sounds rough. Good luck.”

 

“Thanks. See you.”

 

“I’ll walk with you that far,” Sei said. “Hiraiwa, drink on your own for a bit.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.”

 

Once they were outside, Hagiwara glanced at him.

 

“What’s up?”

 

“Nothing. What, is it bad?”

 

“No, it’s fine.”

 

Sometimes this man was so dense it was almost infuriating. Hagiwara shoved his hands into his coat pockets and felt the weight of the lottery tickets.

 

“When you buy them, the woman at the counter says, ‘Hope you win,’ right?”

 

“Does she? I’ve never bought one.”

 

“Every time somebody says it, I get weirdly flustered. Embarrassed, I suppose. Like I want to explain, No, I’m not taking this that seriously. It’s worse when people are queueing behind me.”

 

“You don’t like it?”

 

“Hmm. But I’m a little pleased too. Even if it’s just a set phrase, it feels like somebody’s wishing for something on your behalf.”

 

“If that’s all it takes, I’ll wish for things for you whenever you want. What shall I wish for?”

 

“Hmm… that I hit my figures before the end of the year.”

 

“Boring.”

 

“I’m serious. I’ll get a taxi from here.”

 

“Okay.”

 

They reached a busy junction. Sei was still standing beside him when he said gently, “You should go back.”

 

“Hiraiwa-san’s sitting in there drinking alone.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Another time.”

 

But Hagiwara would be busy every weekend until the final working day of the year, and this was the only night he could have gone for a drink. Sei’s holidays followed the normal calendar, so they could still see each other if Sei waited at Hagiwara’s flat, but…

 

“…We are standing in the middle of the street.”

 

Sei discreetly squeezed Hagiwara’s hand once in farewell. Hagiwara climbed into a taxi.

 

The warmth vanished almost at once. Sei watched the car go. Every tree along the road had been wrapped in lights. Apparently people thought that as long as they called them LEDs, they could make absolutely anything flash like mad and get away with it.

 

Sei narrowed his eyes. The illuminations looked much like city lights floating hazily on wet tarmac on a rainy night.

 

When he was a child, there had been so many things he wanted.

 

As an adult, not so much. Then for a while he had struggled and sulked over the one thing he wanted precisely because he could not have it.

 

Now he wondered what he was supposed to do.

 

What did you do when you kept getting what you wanted and still wanted more?

 

A few days later, Hagiwara and a colleague helped set up a display after closing time at a large electronics shop. They positioned POP signs and boards, then mounted a hundred-inch television on the wall. Hagiwara was not a technician, but he had become familiar enough with wiring since joining the company that, given the proper tools, he could manage something as straightforward as installing an air conditioner himself.

 

“How does that look? Not crooked, is it?”

 

“Perfect. Nice work, both of you. Come on, let’s have a drink over there.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Once in a while.”

 

The shop representative dropped heavily onto the sofa in a display area made to resemble a home cinema and cracked open cans of beer from the convenience store. Strictly speaking, of course, this was an area designed so customers could experience cinema-quality sound and picture.

 

“Ah, I’ll have oolong tea today. You two drink, don’t worry about me.”

 

“Are you feeling ill?”

 

The man usually drank plenty, so Hagiwara asked out of genuine surprise.

 

“No, I’ve got something I have to do when I get home.”

 

Then he laughed.

 

“Last time I forgot, got drunk instead, and my wife absolutely lost it.”

 

…Ah. Right.

 

He was a business contact, and Hagiwara had no desire to get involved in that sort of conversation, so he merely said, “I see.”

 

His colleague, apparently possessing no such instinct for self-preservation, said, “Isn’t it rough, though? You’ve still got work after this, then you’ve got to go home and sleep with your wife?”

 

“Rough, rough. Sometimes I think, just let me sleep. But it’s not like she’s asking because she’s dying for it either. At this point it’s more like a task for both of us. Same set routine—right, right, right, done!”

 

“Ah, I know exactly what you mean.”

 

As the only unmarried person there, Hagiwara had no idea how to join in. One wrong comment and he felt as though he might step on a landmine.

 

“I use gadgets now, honestly. Two AA batteries. Vibration’s important.”

 

“Your wife doesn’t mind?”

 

“It gets the job done quickly and reliably, so it’s easier for her too. Once you get older, your body’s condition really starts going up and down, doesn’t it?”

 

“Yeah, yeah. And why do you end up apologising when it just won’t work?”

 

“Like, ‘Sorry, I don’t think I can today.’”

 

“Exactly. It’s not actually my fault. Willpower can’t fix everything.”

 

What a brutally unromantic conversation.

 

People called it married life because sex was no longer something neatly separated from everyday life. Romance and atmosphere probably could not stay the priority forever, and there must be a kind of ease and practicality in that too.

 

So it was not necessarily a bad thing.

 

… keep it to yourselves.

 

Although Hagiwara understood the impulse to say it out loud, sometimes feelings piled up until you wanted to shout them at somebody. Understanding that only made this more exhausting.

 

“Hagiwara-kun’s got it good.”

 

The conversational die suddenly rolled straight at him. Hagiwara swallowed a mouthful of bitter beer.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You’re single, you’re young. This is the best time.”

 

“Exactly. You’ve still got room to experiment and get creative.”

 

“No, no…”

 

“It’s always the clean-cut handsome ones like this who are doing the filthiest stuff.”

 

What database exactly had supplied that statistic?

 

Hagiwara deflected the fishing expedition with a polite laugh, went home thoroughly drained and rang Sei.

 

“I don’t understand why a man saying that sort of thing to another man somehow doesn’t count as sexual harassment.”

 

“You could probably make a case for it if you complained.”

 

There was a certain breed of man who thought giving graphic reports on his sex life was an excellent communication tool. Normally, Hagiwara tried to file them under "Here We Go Again” and forget the whole thing within a minute, but December fatigue was clearly catching up with him. This one had left him absurdly worn out.

 

“I suppose women get stuck listening to other women’s really graphic stories too.”

 

“That sounds awful as well… Wait. Nakarai-san, where are you talking from? Your voice sounds different.”

 

“Oh, you can tell? The bathroom.”

 

“Is your phone waterproof?”

 

“No. I bought a speaker. Well, I was made to buy one. Bluetooth. You can take calls through it too.”

 

When bonus season came around, company-discount catalogues for every imaginable product appeared. In other words: put some of your pay straight back into the company.

 

“When I moved, I bought everything at once, so I thought I was set for ages. Then the assistant manager kept nagging me about how I had no awareness that I was part of the company. Normally I’d ignore him, but I was busy, so eventually I thought, Fine, I’ll buy the bloody thing if it shuts you up.”

 

“It wasn’t expensive, though, was it?”

 

“About five thousand yen.”

 

“More importantly…”

 

“Mm?”

 

“You’re naked right now.”

 

“That’s the bit you latch onto?”

 

Sei laughed softly and deliberately splashed the bathwater so Hagiwara could hear it.

 

“Ah, my heart’s racing. Where are you washing first?”

 

“I’ve already washed.”

 

Hagiwara was tired enough to flop onto the bed without even taking off his clothes, and he knew Sei’s body well enough that there were probably parts of it he knew better than Sei himself. Even so, the thought of that body on the other end of the call genuinely made his pulse quicken.

 

Good.

 

He could still feel this way.

 

Other people were other people. They were them.

 

A day might come when sex became something they did because circumstances demanded it. Even so, he wanted to remember that there had once been moments like this.

 

“…I want to have sex.”

 

“Yeah. Me too.”

 

The simple agreement to his simple request made Hagiwara happier than anything else could have.

 

Then he remembered something important.

 

“Nakarai-san, I’ve got a favour to ask.”

 

“Mm?”

 

“I have to organise a General Affairs drinking party soon. If you know somewhere decent, tell me.”

 

“Didn’t you already have your year-end party?”

 

“Apparently there's a budget they have to use up before the end of the financial year. Nobody’s doing a second venue or anything. It’s basically just a quick drink so we can say we did it, but I’ve ended up being the organiser.”

 

Hagiwara explained all this to the head moving restlessly beneath his chin.

 

There was no answer.

 

“Are you listening?”

 

“I’m listening, I’m listening. Tell me the date and roughly how many people, and I’ll make the booking for you.”

 

“No, that’s too much. I can book it myself—hey.”

 

They were both in the middle of overtime that had already carried them past midnight. They had only meant to fool around for a minute during a break before going back, but Hagiwara was now standing there with his tie loosened, two shirt buttons undone, while Sei sucked at his neck and collarbone.

 

They were in a refreshment space at a dead end on a floor they had already confirmed was empty. They would hear anybody approaching—

 

Just as Hagiwara thought that, the motion-sensor light came on around the corner.

 

“Someone’s coming.”

 

He pulled Sei off him and hurriedly fastened his buttons. A senior woman from General Affairs appeared.

 

“Oh dear, Nakarai-kun’s skiving.”

 

“What are you doing all the way over here?” Sei asked.

 

“This is the only vending machine that sells honey lemon.”

 

She reached for her purse, but Hagiwara stopped her and fed a hundred-yen coin into the machine.

 

“Hot one?”

 

“Yeah. But are you sure?”

 

“My wallet was getting heavy with coins anyway. In exchange, don’t tell Sales I was skiving too.”

 

“Deal. Thank you very much.”

 

Sei watched with a flicker of admiration. Hagiwara was like that in little moments: casually kind, as if his body moved before he thought about it, without creating the kind of atmosphere that could be misunderstood.

 

“The union’s still negotiating, by the way,” she said. “They’re really hanging on.”

 

“They still haven’t settled?”

 

“At this rate, we’re in danger of the bonus rolling into next year.”

 

“What happens to the year-end adjustment if it does?”

 

“Hmm. Something similar happened about ten years ago. They’ll probably make a provisional payment—maybe a flat three hundred thousand—and pay the rest next year. But that won’t be enough for some people, will it? Mortgage payments and things. So we’d probably have to set up an emergency disbursement desk and deal with individual cases. I’ll have to talk to Accounts tomorrow.”

 

“Great. More work…”

 

“Christmas might get wiped out.”

 

“I’m not too bothered about that.”

 

Hagiwara would be working late anyway.

 

“You stop caring that much about Christmas when you’re an adult, don’t you? We’ve got a child, so it’s different for us.”

 

“Have you bought her present yet?” Hagiwara asked.

 

“She’s in high school now, so she’d rather have money than things. She still adores her dad, though. She’ll say she wants to go shopping with Papa, but my husband hates it.”

 

“Why? That sounds like a luxury.”

 

“He worries people will look at him funny and think he’s walking around with some girl from one of those shady businesses. What do they call it? JK walking? That sort of thing.”

 

“He’s overthinking it.”

 

“You think? I don’t understand men. I’ve never once thought I’d like to do anything with a high-school boy. And if you’re going to pay money, there are plenty of businesses where they’ll do a lot more for you. Why pay just to go for a walk?”

 

“Because they’re hoping the walk might lead to the amateur girl doing something much more for free or dirt cheap,” Hagiwara said. “A non-professional probably looks easier to push.”

 

“So does that mean there are no men who genuinely, innocently just want to enjoy a wholesome little walk?”

 

Sei opened his mouth to object, but Hagiwara answered first.

 

“If somebody wants to pay money just to walk with a girl and claims there’s nothing sexual in it, I think that feeling’s even dirtier.”

 

“Yeah. Dirty. I hate that,” Sei agreed.

 

“Really? Hmm. I honestly don’t understand men.”

 

“It’s not ‘men’. It’s just what the two of us think.”

 

“I see… So you two actually do get on. I was wondering, because your personalities look completely different.”

 

“Well, we do get on, I suppose.”

 

In certain very specific areas.

 

They exchanged a look that only the two of them understood.

 

By the end of the year, Hagiwara looked likely to escape work on the twenty-ninth. When he emailed home to say so, his mother immediately rang him.

 

“When are you coming back?”

 

“Hmm… the thirtieth. I’ll stay about three nights.”

 

“What do you mean, ‘then’? Don’t say it like you’re doing us a favour.”

 

“I’m home now, so I’m hanging up. Night.”

 

A sigh escaped him naturally.

 

He was looking forward to seeing old friends in his hometown, but once he was at his parents’ house, his mother would start on him.

 

Why did you break up with her?

 

His father gave off a clear sense of wanting to leave him alone, but his mother plunged straight in without hesitation. She was such a lovely girl. If you weren’t going to take responsibility, you shouldn’t have lived with her in the first place. It was rude to her family.

 

And after that would come the inevitable: So what are you going to do now?

 

If you’ve fallen for somebody else, well, that can’t be helped. But in that case, bring her home quickly. I’m not letting you live with somebody again without marrying her.

 

“So annoying…”

 

The words escaped him alone in the lift.

 

If he kept brushing her off, how many years would it take before his parents understood—or gave up? Before he became that sensitive subject they stopped asking about, our son apparently had no intention of having a family. We don’t know why, and we don’t know how to ask.

 

If it came down to it, Hagiwara was prepared to introduce Sei and deal with the consequences. But Sei did not want that.

 

…Ah.

 

No. He was exhausted. His mind was turning ugly.

 

For one second—only one—he had thought, Sei doesn’t have to answer to anybody.

 

Because his parents were gone.

 

Hagiwara knocked his forehead once against the lift wall.

 

You’re awful.

 

When he unlocked his front door, Sei’s shoes were there.

 

“Welcome home.”

 

“…I’m home.”

 

Guilt from the thought he had just had made Hagiwara’s heart jump and his voice sink. Sei did not seem to notice.

 

“You look rough. Want a bath?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

There was something in the way Sei said it that suggested he particularly wanted him to have one, so Hagiwara grabbed a change of clothes and went straight to the bathroom.

 

“Whoa.”

 

When he opened the door, the entire bath was bright yellow, with round fruit bobbing across the surface.

 

“This is a bit much.”

 

Sei poked his head round the doorframe and smiled.

 

“It’s the winter solstice.”

 

“Oh. Is that today?”

 

“You completely forgot, didn’t you?”

 

“I did, but still—there’s no room for me in there. You’ve overdone it.”

 

“The capybaras I saw on the news had about this many yuzu in their bath.”

 

“Why am I being compared to a capybara?”

 

“Nakarai-san, are you getting in too?”

 

“No. The bath’ll probably overflow if I do. And you’re exhausted. You’ll be better off soaking by yourself.”

 

“…Thank you.”

 

Hagiwara scrubbed himself all over as if he could scrape away the ugly thought, then lowered himself into the bath as though politely joining the crowd of yuzu. Citrus filled his head. He closed his eyes and let out a breath entirely different from the one in the lift.

 

Relief.

 

Fragrance seeped from the countless pores in the rough yuzu peel. If those particles were visible, he thought, it might look like coral releasing eggs beneath the sea.

 

He stayed there until his whole body had gone soft with heat. After the bath, he drank a beer while Sei dried his hair. Hagiwara sat on the floor while Sei perched on the sofa behind him with the dryer.

 

“What is this, heaven?”

 

“Cheap heaven. Oh, look in the fridge later. I put some things in there.”

 

“Cake?”

 

“Yunker, stomach medicine and turmeric.”

 

“Ahh, thank you. Better than cake.”

 

“Thought so.”

 

Sei combed his fingers through Hagiwara’s hair, making sure the warm air reached everywhere. It felt less like being waited on and more like being groomed, but either way it was wonderful.

 

“Nakarai-san.”

 

“Mm?”

 

“What are you doing over New Year?”

 

“Watching telly at home. I haven’t worked through half the dramas I recorded, and I bought the TV guide, so I’m fully prepared.”

 

Right. This man loved television.

 

“Didn’t Hiraiwa-san say something about snowboarding?”

 

“He invited me. But I don’t want to go somewhere cold when it’s already cold.”

 

That was exactly the answer Hagiwara had expected.

 

“You’re going home to your parents, aren’t you?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Going to be a dutiful son?”

 

“The other day I thought I was being thoughtful and sent my mum some Kōjun supplements. She absolutely lost it, so I’ve decided not to do anything unnecessary.”

 

Sei burst out laughing.

 

“How old is your mum?”

 

“Fifty-four.”

 

“Of course she was angry.”

 

“Really? She’s always going on about her shoulders hurting, her back hurting, getting old…”

 

“I always picture you as somebody who never gets that sort of thing wrong. Why, of all people, would you do that to your own mother?”

 

“I can’t deny I was partly trying to make her laugh. I just didn’t expect genuine rage.”

 

“Idiot… Right, done.”

 

Sei smoothed Hagiwara’s now-dry hair down lightly. Then he pressed his nose into it and murmured happily, “Warm and fluffy.”

 

Hagiwara was about to say, What am I, a dog? but a huge yawn swallowed the words.

 

“You smell really strongly of yuzu. Shall we sleep? Can I stay over?”

 

“Obviously.”

 

Even the bed had been warmed with the futon dryer, so Hagiwara did not have to curl up and wait for the cold sheets to reach body temperature. It was too comfortable. Sleepiness beat lust almost immediately.

 

“Nakarai-san, I want to do it…”

 

“Your eyes are half shut.”

 

“Get me the Yunker.”

 

His head wanted sex. Everything below his neck had fused with the mattress.

 

“Idiot. Leave it. That’s not what I bought it for.”

 

“This is tragic…”

 

He meant it enough that Sei leaned over and covered his mouth with a kiss.

 

“Hagiwara, you’re like a huge dog today.”

 

So that was what he had looked like after all.

 

Sei gave him a quick squeeze through his clothes, then asked, “Have you been getting yourself off lately?”

 

“…No. About two weeks. I meant to the other day, but I fell asleep with my hand down my pants.”

 

“That happens.”

 

He brushed Hagiwara’s still-warm fringe, sat up and moved towards Hagiwara’s legs.

 

“Do you want me to take my time, or make it quick?”

 

“…Quick.”

 

“Got it.”

 

Sei tugged Hagiwara’s sweatpants and underwear down just far enough that he did not have to move. Then his hand closed around him.

 

“Ha…”

 

He was so tired he could have dropped off at any second, yet his body responded honestly to a single touch. In his foggy nerves, that one point of sensation remained startlingly clear, almost as though it belonged to somebody else. It was ridiculous how male bodies could wake up sexually when they were completely exhausted, instinct or not.

 

Sei, built the same way, stroked the erection in his hand and said, “Cute.”

 

“Far too honest.”

 

For a ‘quick’ version, he was maddeningly gentle. The soft, unhurried touches produced more floating warmth than sharp pleasure, and Hagiwara vaguely thought he might fall asleep like this and that would not be so bad.

 

Then Sei took him into his mouth.

 

Hagiwara’s stomach jerked.

 

“Ugh…”

 

He could feel himself being swallowed deeper and deeper, the vein running through him thickening and pulsing with every movement.

 

“Ah, I’m going to come. Seriously, I’m going to come really fast…”

 

He did not even have enough energy left to pretend he could last.

 

“Go on.”

 

The muffled answer vibrated around him. With the warm pressure drawing up and down, Hagiwara reached climax almost immediately, spilling deep into Sei’s mouth.

 

“Ah…”

 

“That’s you done for the day.”

 

It felt exactly as though the last of Hagiwara’s energy had hit zero. He could not even twitch. Sei cleaned him up, rinsed his mouth, then slipped into bed beside him.

 

“Feel good?”

 

“Mmh.”

 

Hagiwara slurred something approximating thank you.

 

Sei understood anyway.

 

“You’re very welcome.”

 

Then he pressed close, warm against him.

 

Late the following night, when Hagiwara finally came home, the flat was empty again. He ran his own bath. The scent of the previous night’s yuzu still lingered strongly in the tub, and without Sei there beside him it made his chest ache in a completely different way.

 

A small gap opened in the workday. A client rang to say traffic had delayed them by about an hour.

 

“Looks like rain,” Hagiwara’s colleague said. “What do you want to do? We haven’t eaten lunch. Shall we grab something quickly?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

Hagiwara was halfway to agreeing when he remembered there was a department store nearby.

 

“Mind if I take care of one thing first?”

 

“What, personal?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Fine, but you’re back here in exactly forty-five minutes.”

 

“Understood.”

 

Hagiwara jogged towards the department store despite having no clear plan for what he would do there.

 

He wanted to give Sei something in return for the winter solstice bath and all the things he had bought for him. Christmas had already passed, but Hagiwara still wanted to give him something before the end of the year.

 

He simply had no idea what.

 

His entire strategy was to throw himself into a place packed with objects and hope something made his internal antenna twitch. Tomorrow evening he was heading to his parents’ house. Before then, he still had all the cleaning and laundry he had neglected. If he wanted to hand Sei something this year, this was his chance.

 

The year-end department store was packed. Hagiwara hurried through menswear, shoes and bags. He could not stare at anything for too long. If he stopped to think, he would start doubting himself, and he had no time to browse gracefully.

 

First impression. Something that pulled his eyes in. Something that made his feet stop. That was what mattered.

 

Unexpectedly, it was the fragrance counter that stopped him.

 

He had been heading for the wallet-and-belt section beyond it and had thought of the perfumes as nothing more than part of the route. Perfume was one of the hardest gifts imaginable, and Sei had never worn it as far as Hagiwara knew.

 

Even so, Hagiwara lowered the foot he had half lifted to keep walking and moved towards a corner filled with elaborately designed pieces.

 

“Excuse me. Could I have these, please?”

 

Right. Sometimes it really was worth walking around without a plan.

 

The choice had been completely unexpected, but the price felt appropriate for a present—in the sense that it was just expensive enough to make you hesitate to buy it for yourself. It was small, not fragile or perishable, and they could wrap it properly.

 

There was every chance Sei would stare at it blankly, and Hagiwara’s expensive little burst of self-satisfaction would fall flat, but if that happened, so be it.

 

He left the department store and started back towards the meeting point.

 

Several fire engines tore past him at high speed, sirens screaming. Police cars followed.

 

A fire?

 

The alarming convoy disappeared around a bend. Hagiwara started to walk again. He had no interest in gawping at accidents.

 

Behind him, he heard a couple talking.

 

“Whoa, that’s serious. Fire?”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“Didn’t that old bloke we passed say people were crowding around Y Building?”

 

The woman gave a small shriek because Hagiwara, directly in front of them, spun round so abruptly.

 

“Oi!”

 

“Sorry.”

 

He threw the boyfriend a perfunctory apology and ran.

 

Y Building.

 

Wasn’t that where Nakarai-san was today?

 

Right now?

 

Sei had complained that after everybody’s schedules were juggled, he somehow ended up having to host the departmental drinking party at lunchtime on the last Sunday of the year. Hagiwara had recommended a reasonably priced restaurant with good transport links.

 

A beer restaurant inside Y Building.

 

Hagiwara looked towards where the building stood. He could not see smoke, but high-rises blocked most of the view.

 

The sirens.

 

The number of emergency vehicles.

 

Running against the flow of pedestrians felt like trying to move forward on a conveyor belt going the other way. Every time Hagiwara tried to support himself with the thought, It can’t be anything like that, the thought snapped immediately.

 

Something like that doesn’t happen to you.

 

Nakarai-san must have thought the same thing once.

 

It was impossible that one day, without warning, both his parents would simply die at once.

 

Something rattled in Hagiwara’s bag.

 

The present he had just bought.

 

A few minutes ago he had been so pleased.

 

A scarf the colour of a pigeon’s neck. Sei’s reluctant face when they parted. Coffee drunk in the office at midnight. The smell of yuzu.

 

The idea that all of it could become the past in one instant drove pain tight through Hagiwara’s chest.

 

That he might spend the rest of his life thinking, If I hadn’t recommended that place.

 

Tiny white specks drifted in the cold air like dust. They landed on Hagiwara’s coat and hair with dry little taps and melted beneath the heat of his hand.

 

The heavy sky above had begun to drop fine sleet instead of rain.

 

He did not get stopped by any red lights.

 

Hagiwara ran, genuinely without resting for a single step, until he reached the tangle of narrow streets around the building.

 

There were already layers of people packed around it. Through gaps between heads and shoulders, he could see yellow restriction tape stretched across the area. The fire engines sat with their red lights still flashing. The sleet remained brilliantly white as it crossed those lights.

 

There were no flames. No smoke.

 

Then was it some other kind of accident?

 

Hagiwara forced his way through the curious crowd until he reached the cordon. He was ready to step straight across it no matter who tried to stop him when somebody said:

 

“Hagiwara?”

 

Sei came out of the building entrance.

 

No burns.

 

No soot.

 

Nothing.

 

“What’s wrong with you? And wow, that’s a lot of fire engines.”

 

“…Nakarai-san.”

 

Hagiwara said his name.

 

A call to the living Sei, a name that could still be answered.

 

“You’re okay?”

 

“Fine, fine. Apparently the smoke alarm in the izakaya directly under the place we were drinking went off because of smoke from grilling fish.”

 

The alarm had sounded throughout the upper floors. Everybody had come out wondering what was going on, but there had been no actual emergency. Even after the explanation, the mood had not quite recovered enough for people to go. Right, let’s head back in and keep drinking. So the gathering had broken up.

 

Sei had been on his way back inside to settle the bill.

 

“I sort of thought, lucky me, it ended early… but I probably shouldn’t say that. They’ve made a huge fuss.”

 

As Sei lowered his voice at the commotion around them, Hagiwara’s legs gave way, and he squatted on the pavement.

 

“Oi!”

 

“Haha…”

 

Thank God.

 

He repeated it into his folded arms in a voice nobody else could hear.

 

His knees were shaking.

 

“…Hagiwara.”

 

Hagiwara was half wondering whether he could actually stand again when his phone rang inside his coat. Salaryman reflex overruled everything else. He sprang upright and answered immediately.

 

“Yes!”

 

“Where the hell have you wandered off to? You’re five minutes late.”

 

“Sorry! I’m coming straight back!”

 

He had already turned on his heel before the sentence was finished and plunged through the crowd again. He looked back only once. Sei was watching him with a worried expression.

 

Later, Hagiwara mouthed.

 

Work itself went smoothly despite the scolding for being late, and Hagiwara made the last train, finishing his final commute of the year. The sleet had turned to light snow. He decided it was not heavy enough to bother opening an umbrella, then realised his coat shoulders were fairly wet anyway.

 

Sei was waiting at the flat.

 

The instant Hagiwara came in, he said, “Sorry.”

 

“For worrying you.”

 

“No. I made the wrong assumption all by myself…”

 

Hagiwara could not hold back. He stripped off his coat in the entrance and pulled Sei into a tight embrace.

 

Sei laughed that Hagiwara’s hair against his neck felt like water.

 

“…I thought I’d been punished.”

 

“For what?”

 

“I… thought that since you were on your own, you didn’t have parents nagging you and sticking their noses into your life.”

 

As if he had any right to think that after what Sei had lost without warning or reason.

 

“I’m sorry…”

 

Maybe Sei would be angry. Maybe he would despise him.

 

But Hagiwara did not want to hide it.

 

He went rigid and waited for judgement.

 

Sei simply patted his back.

 

“What? That’s all? You’re too serious, Hagiwara. I think that sometimes too. That it’s easier this way. It doesn’t mean I think I’m being a bad son now.”

 

“…Really?”

 

“Of course I’d rather they were alive. And I’m sure memory’s polished parts of them into something prettier than they really were too.”

 

Sei tightened his arms.

 

“Let me say this once.”

 

Hagiwara waited.

 

“I won’t forget them. Of course I still remember and get sad. But if I stayed frozen there forever, Kazuaki would be the one I’d be betraying.”

 

It had been a long time since Hagiwara had heard that name.

 

The same as his, yet completely different.

 

“The person I love now is you, Hagiwara. I’ll never see Kazuaki again. Even if we passed each other in the street, neither of us would speak. But please let me keep wanting to stand properly on my own feet for his sake.”

 

“All right.”

 

If Hagiwara was being completely honest, it was not something he could accept with a perfectly open heart.

 

But the Sei Hagiwara had fallen in love with was the Sei who had loved a man who was not him with single-minded devotion.

 

Turning the coin over to show Hagiwara’s side did not make every other side disappear.

 

Nobody’s feelings divided into clean portions. People fell in love through all those unresolved pieces. They held each other and were held with them still there.

 

Sei rubbed his head hard against Hagiwara’s shoulder.

 

For Sei’s sake, and so that he would not have to lie to himself, Hagiwara accepted what Sei had told him.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Sei went quiet for a moment.

 

“…Welcome home.”

 

“I’m home.”

 

Thank God.

 

They had met again.

 

Hagiwara wanted to meet him again and again, no matter how many times it took.

 

After Hagiwara showered, he handed Sei a small box tied with ribbon.

 

“What’s this?”

 

“Late Christmas present. Or something like one.”

 

“You got me something? I didn’t get you anything.”

 

“You did. All that stuff for the winter solstice.”

 

“That hardly counts. Can I open it?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Sei untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside was another small case. When he snapped it open, silver gleamed against black velvet.

 

There were four slim, flat pieces of polished metal, a little smaller than an ice-cream spoon, curved at one end and pointed like a pencil at the other.

 

“…Collar stays?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“For shirts. To keep the collar straight.”

 

Sei stared.

 

“Wow. I’ve never used proper ones like these.”

 

“Neither have I. They just looked beautiful in the shop. Maybe it’s weird to say something that stays hidden suits you.”

 

The mark of an old perfume house was engraved into the metal.

 

Sei touched one lightly with a fingertip. The glossy surface immediately clouded in that one spot, like breath on glass.

 

He frowned.

 

“Fingerprint.”

 

“Well, obviously.”

 

Sei took two from the set of four and held them out to Hagiwara.

 

“Half each.”

 

“No, but—”

 

“We’ll use them together.”

 

Hagiwara held the pieces up to the light for a while, turning them this way and that.

 

Eventually he closed them tightly in his palm.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Nakarai-san, I’ve been thinking.”

 

“Mm?”

 

“I’m not going home this New Year after all. I haven’t decided what I’ll do from next year onwards, but this year I’m staying here with you.”

 

Perhaps expecting an argument, Hagiwara immediately added that he had already decided and had properly told his parents.

 

Sei leaned in close.

 

“…I was going to say the same thing.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

I don’t need anything else.

 

Just stay beside me.

 

“Did it snow much?”

 

“Quite a bit.”

 

“Think it’ll settle?”

 

Hagiwara’s weight came down over him.

 

Ah.

 

It had been a while since Sei had felt this.

 

“Do you know the old story about ‘snow that hides the tracks’?”

 

“No.”

 

“A poor woman steals a daikon from a field for a travelling monk. The monk makes it snow so her footprints disappear and she won’t get caught.”

 

Sei only half-remembered the story, so the explanation was heavily abridged. Hagiwara gave him a doubtful look.

 

“That’s an impressively wrong direction for kindness. If the monk’s got supernatural powers, he could sort his own problems out.”

 

“Yeah. I thought that too.”

 

Sometimes Sei wished snow could pile over his memories until he forgot everything.

 

Not because of regret. Not even because of pain.

 

It was the sudden, careless thought that sometimes came to him—Ah, this is such a bloody nuisance.

 

What was that?

 

Was it just the heartlessness Hiraiwa always accused him of?

 

He wanted to lose every part of ‘before’. To appear in the world brand new in this exact moment, knowing nothing, remembering nothing, yet somehow still loving only Hagiwara.

 

He wanted to know what sex would feel like then.

 

Sei wrapped both arms around Hagiwara’s back so tightly and blindly that Hagiwara said, “I can’t move.”

 

“I know. Just stay like this a little longer.”

 

Sei closed his eyes and concentrated on Hagiwara’s rhythm.

 

The slight mismatch between their heartbeats narrowed little by little. Eventually they seemed to line up perfectly, as though joined by a bypass.

 

Then Hagiwara groaned, “Can’t,” and forced his upper body up.

 

“You’re killing me here.”

 

The heart Sei had been warming with his breath immediately sped up and slipped out of rhythm again.

 

He almost regretted it.

 

As if punishing him for that thought, Hagiwara closed his mouth around Sei’s nipple.

 

“Ah…”

 

The delicate needle of ache travelled everywhere, then turned syrupy beneath Hagiwara’s tongue. Again and again. When the edge of Hagiwara’s teeth grazed the very tip, Sei arched with a shiver.

 

“No… ah…”

 

The sensation had the maddening itch of an almost-healed wound. However much he was given, it was not enough.

 

The swollen point reddened with blood beneath the skin, yet it was too small to hold all the pleasure pouring into it and had no way to release anything itself. The heat gathered farther down instead, waking happily beneath Hagiwara’s touch and changing shape with arousal.

 

“Ah… ah…”

 

“I want to kiss you.”

 

Without letting go of his hand on Sei’s lower body, Hagiwara reached for his mouth.

 

Sometimes he stroked in one long, slow motion. Then his fingers would settle around the narrowest part and tremble in tiny movements.

 

Sei’s broken breathing disappeared between their mouths.

 

“Mmh…”

 

Wet sounds rose between their lips.

 

Under Hagiwara’s teasing hand, the tip of Sei’s erection began to leak quietly. Thick drops welled from the small slit in time with his breaths. When Hagiwara spread the fluid slickly between his palm and Sei’s skin, something far inside Sei’s body tightened all by itself.

 

Sei could no longer control that disobedient response.

 

He bit Hagiwara’s lip once.

 

Hagiwara lowered his face between Sei’s legs.

 

The rounded tip had already taken on an obscene shine from everything it had leaked.

 

Hagiwara’s tongue, hot from their kissing, licked it clean.

 

More fluid appeared almost immediately.

 

The ease with which Sei’s body produced it was almost frightening.

 

For one dazed moment he imagined Hagiwara drawing every drop of water out of him until his body had been flattened smooth like one of those collar stays.

 

Sex with Hagiwara often felt like being remade from the beginning.

 

“No… ah…!”

 

Hagiwara’s pointed tongue travelled over the side and underside, making it feel as though pleasure itself were crawling over Sei’s skin.

 

Then the rougher front of his tongue dragged slowly upward.

 

Sei’s stomach muscles clenched so hard he felt them twitch.

 

“Ah—no, ahh…!”

 

The sticky restraint of Hagiwara’s lips moving around him finally became too much.

 

Sei had been starved for touch too.

 

He came into Hagiwara’s mouth, then lay oversensitive and bare while Hagiwara’s hands wandered over him: the blunt bones at the tops of his thighs, the backs of his knees, the short stretch of skin between his genitals and the opening behind.

 

“Mmh… ah…”

 

Hagiwara’s fingers probed the cleft where the two halves of Sei’s body met, the entrance that seemed almost to hunger for sex.

 

It was already wet with all the pre-cum Hagiwara had spread there.

 

“Ahh… no…”

 

Hagiwara teased the shallow entrance and traced along the front wall, distracting Sei’s body with pleasure as a finger slowly worked inside.

 

Through the tight inner wall, it pushed against flesh, making space for itself.

 

It had been a little while, so Sei was undeniably tight, but the sensitive tissue being opened was already aroused enough to draw Hagiwara’s finger farther in.

 

“Mmm…”

 

“…Open a little more.”

 

For all that Hagiwara was impatiently saying he wanted to be inside him, his fingers remained careful.

 

The certainty that Hagiwara would never hurt him let Sei relax until even the inside of him trembled with helpless sounds, coaxed and stroked open with maddening gentleness.

 

When Hagiwara pressed hard against the good place inside, as though trying to push it deeper into Sei’s body, Sei thought semen might spill out of him without permission.

 

“Don’t—ah, ahh…!”

 

Hagiwara circled the exact spot insistently. The contractions sharpened, and even Sei’s slim chest curved with the aftershocks.

 

Hagiwara soothed that arch with his palm, then hooked his arms beneath Sei’s legs.

 

“Ah…”

 

Hagiwara’s erection sank into him, hot and hard.

 

Sei knew that tautness well enough now to recognise the pulse inside it. And once they were completely joined, once Hagiwara began to push and drag through him, arousal rubbing against arousal in the closest possible way, he knew it would become harder still.

 

“Ah…”

 

Fully seated inside him, Hagiwara arched and exhaled.

 

“This is what I wanted…”

 

The heartfelt way he said it made Sei laugh.

 

“We can do it loads over New Year.”

 

“I’m not staying just for that. Besides, Nakarai-san won’t be able to watch telly.”

 

“We can leave it on.”

 

“No. Although… give it ten years and we might be doing that without thinking.”

 

“Like, ‘Oh, the red team’s winning’?”

 

“Exactly. Wait, why are we watching Kōhaku?”

 

They looked at each other and laughed.

 

That would be awful.

 

Strangely, Sei did not think he would hate it if it was something the two of them did.

 

But for now, Hagiwara preferred being deep inside Sei, sweat beginning to gather on his skin as he watched Sei’s face endure the pleasure.

 

“Ahh…!”

 

Even the smallest rocking made the softened place inside Sei open more deeply, as though melted by some special drug, only to clamp down the next moment in contractions so violent they seemed to reach his throat.

 

“Ah…”

 

Hagiwara made a short sound.

 

Then he folded Sei’s raised knees hard towards his chest and drove through the now-exposed angle with long, full strokes.

 

“Ah—ah! No, ahh—”

 

Hagiwara never mistook words that meant more, even when Sei said the opposite.

 

He opened the flushed entrance, let it close, then provoked those opposing reactions again in unpredictable rhythm, dragging pleasure from deeper and deeper inside Sei until there was nowhere left to hide from it.

 

“Ah, ah, ah—”

 

“Hah… ah, that’s good…”

 

“Mmh…”

 

Sei drew Hagiwara in without limit, squeezing him and holding him with the undulating muscles inside.

 

Their pleasure wound around itself like a spiral, leaping beyond thought. It felt as though it could carry them somewhere impossibly far away.

 

Near midday on New Year’s Eve, they took a tablet into bed and waited for the moment together.

 

Hagiwara held the hundred lottery tickets—one hundred little dreams—bound with an elastic band. The draw would be announced shortly, with the winning numbers posted online as soon as they were available.

 

“Does everybody know the numbers?”

 

“I laid them out, scanned them and put the image in the shared folder. Whether everybody actually checks it, I’ve no idea.”

 

“…Right.”

 

“What do you mean, ‘right’?”

 

They were alone, but Sei still leaned over and whispered into Hagiwara’s ear.

 

“If we’ve won three hundred million, let’s take it and run away together.”

 

“That’s evil!”

 

“We’ll quit our jobs, leave Tokyo and live quietly somewhere on the Sea of Japan side.”

 

“Why the Sea of Japan?”

 

“No particular reason.”

 

Realistically, if two people with complicated circumstances wanted to disappear into a crowd, Tokyo’s chaos was obviously the easiest place to do it.

 

“We’re not going to win.”

 

“This entire conversation assumes we’re not going to win.”

 

“Well, yeah. If we actually did it, we’d be finished as human beings.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“You need a conscience for something that outrageous.”

 

“Mm-hm.”

 

Hagiwara went quiet.

 

Then he put the tablet and tickets on the bedside table and suddenly grabbed Sei into a crushing hug.

 

“I really want to win!”

 

“Thank you for finally being honest.”

 

They kissed and groped lazily beneath the sheets without quite meaning anything by it.

 

“…Wait. We could actually do all that without winning the lottery, couldn’t we?”

 

“Yeah, but having tangible security matters. Makes it easier to take the leap. Oh—looks like the numbers are up.”

 

They split the tickets and compared them against the winning numbers.

 

It did not take long.

 

They had come nowhere near becoming millionaires.

 

“Mm. That’s reality.”

 

“Hagiwara. Do that thing.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

Sei gathered the hundred tickets, raised both hands over his head and flung them into the air.

 

The brightly coloured scraps of failed dreams fluttered all over the bed and floor.

 

“Oi!”

 

“I’ve always wanted to do that. Like those old blokes at the racecourse throwing losing betting slips everywhere.”

 

“Some of those have won three hundred yen! Don’t scatter them!”

 

“I’ll pick them up later.”

 

“You’d better…”

 

The words had barely left Hagiwara’s mouth before he pushed Sei down onto the tickets spread across the bed.

 

So if some of them ended up crumpled beneath their bodies, that was clearly the fault of the person who had done the pushing.

 

And if, nearly an hour later, they were both too wrecked to move a single finger, never mind tidy up, that could hardly be Sei’s fault either.

 

Their dream of eloping would have to roll over to the next draw.

 

They would probably welcome the New Year naked, taking occasional breaks along the way.

 

Have a good New Year