Yokozawa Takafumi no Baai - Traduzione capitoli 3&4, (In inglese)

“Yokozawa-san, are you not going home yet?”

“Hm? Ah, yeah… There are still a few things I want to take care of.”

“I see. Well, then I’m off.”

“Good work today.”

Waving Henmi off as he took his leave for the day, Yokozawa leaned back in his chair and exhaled softly. There was hardly anyone left in the sales department, and most of those that were still around were making plans to leave. Given that, as a rule, overtime wasn’t approved, more than half of the lights on the sales floor had already been turned off.

It had been a while since Yokozawa had stayed this late at work. Kirishima usually had him finishing up and being ready to leave early, but today he had yet to receive any such instructions today.

“…Oh, right. It’s the end of the cycle, isn’t it?”

The reason Kirishima hadn’t yet arrived to meet him must have been because the magazine hadn’t yet been sent off to the printers. If he was busy, it would probably be better to go to his place on a different day.

Since that first night he’d been taken to Kirishima’s house, he’d started dropping by quite regularly. Some nights Hiyori made them dinner, and others they enjoyed leftovers cooked by Kirishima’s mother. And given how frequently he’d been coming over, he’d grown quite close with Hiyori now.

He’d already bought a treat for her today, having picked it up while out on his sales calls: a basket of colorful macarons he’d bought at an underground department store’s bakery floor. There was no way a little girl wouldn’t love getting a cute treat like this.

Readying himself to head home, he made his way to Kirishima’s floor, planning to just leave Hiyori’s present with him and then leave for the day. He boarded the elevator and pressed the button to head two floors up.

Given the late hour and that many of them had different release dates or had already finished their submissions, a good half of the editing division had already left for the day. Stepping into the Japun editing area towards the back of the floor, he found Kirishima hunched over the editor-in-chief’s desk, perusing a proof and looking exhausted.

“Geez, aren’t you finished yet?”

At Yokozawa’s voice, Kirishima rubbed at the corners of his eyes and responded, “You think I want to still be here? One of the authors broke her deadline really seriously and the proof still isn’t done.”

“What the hell’s with that? Why didn’t you just drop her and fill the space with some submat?” Whenever an author wasn’t able to meet their deadline, the ripple effect tended to hit hard down the production line. They ran the risk of being late with deliveries to editors, the printers, and–if they were particularly unlucky–distributers too, so it would eventually become a problem for the sales department as well.

“Don’t talk like that. It wasn’t like she wanted to be late. I wouldn’t cut her any slack if she’d just pissed around and broke her deadline.”

“Then what’s wrong? Was she sick?”

“It’s her dog. Apparently he came down with something suddenly, and between taking him to the vet and all, she had to push back working on her manuscript.”

“That’s just–”

“I know, I know. You wanna say something like you’re too soft on your authors, right? But when I thought about what I’d have done if it had been Hiyori that got sick…I couldn’t do it. It was my decision to wait, so I let all the editors who’d already finished their work go home. I couldn’t make them hang around just for me.”

“……………”

Yokozawa had always heard that Kirishima was very businesslike at work, and that he was a stickler for punctuality. The reason so many authors liked him must be because of times like this, when he showed intense compassion. Every author, no matter how stubborn, would listen to Kirishima, if no others–not because they trusted his skills as an editor, but because they believed in him as a person, undoubtedly.

Kirishima set the proof he’d been reading down on his desk and dug around in his pocket, eventually pulling out his house key and handing it to Yokozawa. “So, that’s how it is–would you mind heading home without me, then?”

“Ah, I’ll pass today. You can take Hiyo her treat when you leave.”

“Do you have other plans or something?”

“Plans…? Well, no, but I can’t exactly go over to your place when you’re not there, can I?” Granted, he was already well-acquainted with Kirishima’s mother, but he felt uncomfortable just going over unannounced. And more than that, there really was no reason he should be going over almost every day in the first place.

“If you don’t have anything else to do, it’d actually really help if you could go. My parents are off on a trip with the neighborhood association right now, so Hiyo’s home alone tonight.”

“What the–then why didn’t you say so sooner?! What the hell are you thinking leaving a little girl home alone?!” Leaving aside the fact that Hiyori was rather level-headed for her age, it didn’t change the fact that she was still just ten years old. There was little worry of any strangers getting into the apartment, given the building’s security, but it was still worrisome to leave her all alone.

An outsider might have thought this an overreaction on Yokozawa’s part, but he understood well that children felt lonelier than adults imagined when left by themselves to watch the house. Yokozawa’s own parents were in fine health, but they both worked, and Yokozawa had been a latchkey child when he was younger; for this reason, he understood how lonely it could get for a child left by themselves until late at night.

“It’s not like I could help it–I thought I’d be done already. I already told her I’d be late, and I’m sure she’d be fine even if I left her on her own tonight, but–”

“Yeah yeah just hand over the key already!” Snatching the key from Kirishima, he quickly made his exit.

“I’m counting on you, thanks!”

“Phone Hiyo and let her know I’m coming!” Tossing back this final groused command, he hurried on to Kirishima’s house.


“Welcome, Oniichan!”
Hiyori met Yokozawa in the genkan wearing an apron with a rabbit character printed on it and her hair in twin braids. Seeing that he was out of breath from running all the way from the station, she made a funny face.

“Oniichan–did you run all the way here? Ah! Did you need to use the bathroom maybe?”

“…I hurried because I heard you were here all alone.” Seeing her confused expression, now Yokozawa felt a bit embarrassed. Maybe he’d been a bit over-worried.

“Papa said you were headed home first–so you came because you were worried about me? I’m fine on my own you know! I can watch the house and lock up all by myself~ But I’m still really happy you came!”

Yokozawa’s expression softened at her carefree smile. “So nothing happened while you were here alone?”

“Nope, nothing at all! I was over at Yuki-chan’s place until evening, after all.”

“Is Yuki-chan a friend from school?”

“My best friend in my class! She lives one floor above here. I had some pudding her mama made for a snack earlier. And then–” Apparently she couldn’t help wanting to babble on about her whole day. Everything that she held back telling Kirishima because he was her father, she spoke to Yokozawa about with abandon. She probably saw him as a friend now.

Listening to her carry on with no signs of stopping, they headed into the house properly, and Yokozawa slipped on the slippers that by now had pretty much been labeled his own. Without his even realizing it, the number of items in this apartment that were ‘for Yokozawa’ had started to grow. Hiyori had prepared Yokozawa his own chopsticks and rice bowl, and he even had a designated seat at the dinner table now.

“Oh–right right. I brought something for you. Sorry if any of them are broken from running here.” He’d completely forgotten about the bag he held while running here. But even if some of them were broken, these were macarons, so they weren’t inedible by any means.

“What kind of candy is this?”

“They’re called macarons. Apparently they make them a lot in France. I bought them because they had a lot of pretty colors.”

“They’re really cute! It’s almost a waste to eat them!” Hiyori pulled out a clear jar wrapped with a ribbon. Thankfully, despite the way he’d handled it, it didn’t appear that any of the contents were broken.

“If you like them, I can always bring more again. So feel free to dig in.”

“Then we can have some together later! Thanks so much, Oniichan!”

“You’re very welcome.”

Maybe the reason she was able to say she was fine and behave this excitedly was because she hadn’t even realized she was lonely. Children tended to put up a brave front so as not to worry their parents. Hiding their feelings like that, they eventually convince themselves that they really feel that way.

“You sure are cute, Hiyo.” He couldn’t help the comment that slipped from his mouth when he felt his heart assaulted by Hiyori’s lovable expression.

She flushed brightly at his compliment. “Eeh? What’re you saying, Oniichan? Ah!! Papa’s way of speaking has rubbed off on you!” Her suspicion perhaps sprang from the fact that the compliment was even more embarrassing than if Kirishima had said it.

“I said you were cute because I think you’re cute, that’s all.”

“You don’t have to say those kinds of things, geez!” She was all the more cute with her cheeks puffed out in anger, and Yokozawa let out a loud bark of laughter. It had been ages since he’d been able to laugh like this.

“I can’t believe you’d laugh at me!”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m really sorry… Ah, you’re wearing an apron–does that mean you’re cooking something?” While it was a fairly obvious change in topic, Hiyori just gasped in surprise.

“Oh, right! I’m making dinner! I’m still peeling the vegetables, but you’re going to eat, right?”

“What are you making?” Despite her ten years, Hiyori was quite the cook. Apparently she helped with dinner preparations whenever her grandmother cooked for them, too.

“Today I’m doing a recipe we learned in home ec–nikujaga! I did pretty well in class, so I thought I’d be able to cook it fine on my own. I even bought meat from the grocery store myself!”

“Sounds delicious. Would you like me to help?” She could probably make it fine on her own, but dinner would be ready sooner if they worked together.

“Really? Can you cook, Oniichan?”

“What’re you saying? I’ve been living on my own for a long time, I’ll have you know. I can make the basics at least. How about I make some stewed pork and bring it over next time?”

“Awesome! I want to try some! You’re so lucky… Papa can’t cook at all! He can’t even peel an apple properly!”

It was probably the first time he’d heard her complain about her father, and Yokozawa recalled now that he’d never seen Kirishima in the kitchen once except for traveling to and from the refrigerator for a beer.

“That’s pretty bad, I’ll admit. But you made curry for us the other night–who taught you?”

“Grandma! I help her out all the time. Ooh! Can you make pudding, Oniichan?” She really must have liked that pudding her friend’s mother made for her today.

“Pudding’s simple. It’s just a bunch of mixing and steaming.”

“Wow! Teach me next time??”

While he’d never made pudding from scratch before, he had made egg custard and figured the basic technique had to be the same. Making a mental note to look up a recipe later, he recalled the reason they’d started this conversation in the first place. “All in due time. If we don’t focus on this nikujaga of yours first, we’ll never have dinner.” They likely had the ingredients in the fridge right now, but pudding was far from a proper evening meal.

“Oh yeah–I’m getting hungry, too… Ah! Wait a minute, Oniichan!”

“Hm?”

Hiyori dashed into her room without explaining, returning after a moment holding something red to her chest. “You should wear an apron, right? Here, I’ll lend you this!”

“Ah, thank y…”

The apron she held out for him was a red frilly piece with white polkadots. It was a cuteness reminiscent of the Emerald offices, and while he could reasonably picture Hiyori in it, Yokozawa himself was another story. The furrow between his brows deepened just thinking about what he’d look like in the thing.

“Papa bought it for me for my birthday, but it’s too big for me to use just yet. It might be a little small for you, but it’s all I have right now…”

“It would be a waste to get your present dirty, though, right?”

“You wear an apron so you won’t get your clothes dirty. It’s a waste not to use it!” She seemed set on lending it to him, so to refuse would be rude. But it wasn’t as if Kirishima was going to see him in it, so after much hesitation, he decided to borrow it without fuss.

He finally took the apron from her, reminding, “Then I’ll use it gratefully. But–don’t laugh if it doesn’t look good on me, got it?”

To be continued…

“She’s sound asleep,” Kirishima announced, leaving Hiyori’s room to find Yokozawa enjoying a beer on the sofa and settling down beside him.

“She was pretty worked up today, after all.” After they’d made dinner together, Yokozawa had made her take a bath, looked over her homework, and then sent her off to bed in place of her father who still hadn’t arrived home yet. Kirishima finally made it in around midnight.

Despite the fact that it was the end of the cycle, the guy didn’t really look all that tired, and in fact seemed in almost decent spirits–but it could have simply been that the fatigue had him worked up, so Yokozawa purposefully avoided pressing the issue.

“You really saved me today, thanks. Nothing happened, then?”

“We made dinner without issue, and she finished all her homework–so no, nothing happened. I even managed to finished a few work items of my own I had left to do.” He’d seen to some paperwork he’d brought home with him while waiting for Kirishima to arrive after putting Hiyori to bed–though the sofa had been so comfortable, he’d nearly nodded off a few times while working.

“Careful–you’re sounding like a better father than me right about now.”

“You just suck at running a household.” He never would have realized Kirishima had been married with a kid if the guy hadn’t told him. He’d mentioned a while back that he only wore his wedding ring to ward off questions from authors–which meant he’d probably been approached romantically more than a few times in the past.

“And yet you seem rather comfortable with it.”

“Sorry I look old for my age.”

“I was complimenting you, geez. I think it’s better than looking all worked up, at least. Hiyo trusts you anyways, right?”

“Well…yeah.” Whenever he brought up Hiyori, Yokozawa found he couldn’t reply as sharply as usual. Seeing Yokozawa grow quiet, Kirishima fell silent as well.

Just as he was wondering how long this uncomfortable silence was going to last, Kirishima spoke up in a soft voice, “…Did Hiyori…say anything?”

“What do you mean, ‘anything’?”

“Like…that she was scared being left alone, or lonely–I just thought maybe she’d have told you if she felt that way. She’d never say it to me because she doesn’t want me to worry.” It seemed as if Kirishima actually dealt with the same fatherly worries as the rest of the world.

“Well, she never said she was lonely, if it makes you feel better. Just kept going on and on about how she was just fine on her own. And oh yeah–that her friend Yuki-chan’s mother let her eat some pudding she’d made.” He pondered now that perhaps she’d been unconsciously jealous of that friend.

As if he were considering exactly the same thing Yokozawa was, Kirishima’s expression shifted into a slightly dispirited mien. “…I see.”

“And that bothers you.”

“Of course it does! It would be fine if I just had a job where I could get home earlier, but even if I changed jobs, there’s nothing else I can do but be an editor!”

“You’re working hard enough as is! There are days with any job where you’ll have to work late hours–and kids will understand that even if you don’t tell them. Just give her attention on the days that you can, and let her know if something’s bothering you.”

Kirishima gaped at Yokozawa as if he’d just seen a ghost. “…There’s a first. I never expected you’d be the one to comfort me.”

“I didn’t say it for you. All I was doing was saying what was best for Hiyo…”

“…So you had a pretty lonely childhood yourself, then?”

“…I just stayed at home by myself a lot, since both my parents worked.”

It had admittedly been lonely when he was by himself, but he’d been able to forget those feelings so long as he had a book in his hands. Once they’d realized that he was fine if they gave him books to read, his parents had started giving him enough allowance to cover not only his meals, but the occasional book purchase as well.

He knew that they loved him, and he understood that they were busy with their jobs–so he’d always thought it was just his role to sit quietly and not get in their way.

Still…it wasn’t like he’d never wished that they’d listen to him talk some. While from an adult’s perspective it may have seemed like they were just humoring him, he still would have liked for them to listen to what he found that day, or what new thing he learned, or what he thought about a book he’d just finished–even just for a little bit would’ve been fine.

Kirishima was quite good at doing that, he felt. Despite the fact that he was an editor–a line of work known for breeding night owls–he had his schedule planned out perfectly and was usually able to finish his work and make it home by 6 PM. And on top of that, he had more work than most others, ensuring that even the most no-name of his authors outsold their peers–he was amazing for being able to accomplish all of that. While his personality may have been slightly twisted in places, it seemed mainly limited to being directed at Yokozawa himself for now, and his authors and subordinates all appeared to have great faith in him.

“I guess that’s why you’re good at taking care of people.”

“Maybe.” Even Yokozawa himself wasn’t entirely sure if his habit of being overprotective was genetic or just a product of the environment he’d been raised in. He was at least sure that the reason he was so good at cooking was because of how he’d grown up. “Oh–so what did you do for dinner?”

“Haven’t had any yet. I’m starving, though.”

“If you were just waiting on a proof, you could’ve just grabbed something at the office and eaten there.” Even if delivery wasn’t an option, he still could have at least quenched the hunger pangs a bit if he’d had one of the others still hanging around go and buy something.

At Yokozawa’s annoyed expression, Kirishima returned with an excuse that sounded downright childish: “I made myself wait–because I wanted to enjoy that delicious nikujaga that you and Hiyo were making.”

“I didn’t say you had to stuff yourself or anyth…wait a minute–how did you know we were making nikujaga?!”

“Hiyo texted me: ‘Oniichan and I are making nikujaga‘. Apparently she was pretty thrilled to cook with you–I didn’t even know you knew how. Quite a shocker, there.”

Yokozawa hadn’t even noticed that Hiyori had been texting anyone. He wasn’t exactly thrilled with Kirishima knowing that–but when he thought about how Hiyori had felt, he couldn’t stay mad. “It’d be stranger if I couldn’t. Which reminds me–Hiyo told me all about how her papa can’t even peel an apple properly.”

“Who needs to peel apples? Just eat ‘em how they are! And as long as she knows I can’t do anything myself, she learns faster–so it works out for the best.” He seemed quite proud of himself for this–but that just made him a bad example. It wasn’t really a good habit for a parent to take on, but Yokozawa supposed that this carefree attitude generally worked out for Kirishima.

“You don’t seem very worried; what’re you gonna do when Hiyo gets married and moves out?”

Yokozawa wondered idly what Kirishima would look like when he found out Hiyori was getting married–he was probably the type to be all smiles on the surface but silently weeping underneath it all. Or maybe he wouldn’t care at all what others thought and just blubber on like a little girl.

“Then I guess I’d just have to have you cook for me. I’m looking forward to your pudding and stewed pork, by the way.”

“Huh? I told Hiyo I’d make that for her! Why the hell do I have to let you have any?!” Just how much had Hiyori written about Yokozawa in that message? Maybe he’d let his guard down too much just because Kirishima wasn’t around.

“What do you mean why? Because I want to try it, of course.”

“It was a rhetorical question! And–what the hell are you laughing at? It’s creeping me out.”

“Oh nothing~”

“If you’ve got something to say, then spit it out!” No matter how the guy tried to play it off, his expression said he was hiding something. But despite Yokozawa’s best glares, he didn’t seem moved in the least.

“It’s a secret. If I told you, you’d definitely get pissed. But–if you promise not to get mad, then I don’t mind telling.”

“…Whatever, idiot.” Yokozawa had quickly grown tired of putting up with Kirishima when he was purposefully teasing him. If he was going to play hard to get, then there was no sense in giving him the pleasure of the chase.

“What, you’re not curious?”

Kirishima seemed quite put out as Yokozawa turned the tables on him. “Not really. Anyways–I’m leaving. Fix yourself dinner. Even if you can’t peel an apple, I have full faith that you can heat up some miso soup at least.” Kirishima was home, and Hiyori was asleep–Yokozawa had no reasons left to stay in this apartment.

“Why don’t you just spend the night? It looks like my mother aired out the futon in the guest room, after all.”

“Don’t be stupid–I’ve got a cat, remember? I’m sure he wouldn’t get into any trouble, but I can’t just leave him on his own.” Sorata may have been the same age as Hiyori, but he was a senior in cat years. He was a pretty laid back cat and didn’t cause any problems, but even cats got lonely when left on their own.

“Ah, right… Sorry for keeping you here for so long. You really did help me out tonight.”

Hearing these words of genuine gratitude that were worlds away from his quips before, Yokozawa couldn’t help feeling a bit embarrassed. To hide this, he fired back with a comment that wasn’t entirely truthful, “It wasn’t for you–it was for Hiyo. Don’t get the wrong idea.”

“Yeah, I know. But still–thank you.”

“…..” He couldn’t bring himself to look Kirishima in his smiling face–all he wanted to do was get out of this room, flooded with a slightly different atmosphere from usual, as quickly as possible. “Well, I’m off then.”

Kirishima stood as well while Yokozawa hurriedly pulled on his coat and prepared himself to leave. “The last train’s long gone; you want me to drive you home?”

“It’s fine; I’ll take a taxi. And–what, you were planning on leaving Hiyo here alone?”

“Oh…right. Then, here–take this. Your fee for babysitting.”

“I never asked for th–” When he tried to refuse the bills that Kirishima had pulled from his wallet, instead he had it forcibly pressed into his hand.

“Just take it. You’ve got your cat waiting for you at home, right? Hurry up and get going. If it bothers you that much, then sell the shit out of my books and get me a raise.”

“…Fine.” Realizing it would be even ruder to continue refusing, he grudgingly accepted the money.

“All right then–be careful going home. Good night.”

“G-good night…” He quickly left the apartment, as if fleeing Kirishima’s gaze. Jogging towards the elevator hall, he pushed the call button several times in succession, unable to calm down.

“…What the hell is my problem?”

His pulse had started to rise, and for some reason his entire body felt flushed. His palms were sweaty from balling his hands into fists, and his vision swam before him.

But more than all of this, he couldn’t understand the irregular pounding of his heart–and the furrow between his brows deepened in confusion.

Being shoved onto the platform from the completely packed train car that had just arrived really pressed home the fact that a new week was starting in Yokozawa’s mind. Gazing at the wave of humanity rushing off to their respective offices, all wearing the same suits, Yokozawa flushed himself into the crowd.

Monday mornings were always depressing. It wasn’t that he hated his job or anything, but taking a two-day break really made it difficult to force yourself to get back to work. And on top of it all, the beginning of the workweek tended to be packed with meetings, which made him feel even more lethargic.

Everyone had to share their information and trade opinions back and forth, together, but for the impatient Yokozawa, all of that was just a pain in the ass.

It wasn’t as if they were all working with the same motivation, after all, so it made sense that they all worked at different paces. For every instance that they were able to time their pace and work towards a common goal, there were also times when they all managed to undermine each other. It pissed Yokozawa off to no end when he thought about how it would’ve been more profitable in the long run for him to just visit another bookshop or two in the time he wasted in meetings.

He did feel, however, that Marukawa Shoten was a company with a relatively high ration of independent thinkers; if it weren’t, a brash persona like himself would’ve been kicked out long ago.

With age, he’d started to be able to look at himself from an objective point of view. While his elders would probably still call him green, he felt he’d rounded out considerably. His teenage self probably never would’ve imagined he’d be able to past on a sales smile the way he could now.

He picked up breakfast from a convenience store and started up the now familiar hill he traversed every day. He passed a group of women strolling at a gentle pace and stepped into the main building through the automatic doors.

Two women with perfectly made up faces and not a hair out of place sat smiling at the reception desk greeting those who entered, be they employee or guest. But–today, their smiles seemed to be hiding something.

“Ah, Yokozawa-san! Good morning!”

“Good morning!”

The women continued to stare at him with a gaze that looked as if they wanted to say something, and Yokozawa just glared back suspiciously. He had the strange feeling he’d encountered this sort of snickering somewhere before, rather recently, but he couldn’t recall where.

“Morning… Do I have something on my face?” He couldn’t help wondering where that Ah! from earlier had come from. When curiosity moved him to ask the reason, the women attempted to placate him and pasted on their usual smiles.

“N-no! It’s nothing!”

“?”

Feeling a strange unease reminiscent of having the small bones of a fish stuck in his throat, he reminded himself it wasn’t worth pressing the matter and left the reception area behind with no further questions.

Taking a place standing behind a few editors waiting to board the elevator, he grew bored in the idle time and pulled out his cell phone, checking the texts he’d just received. And that was when the editors’ conversation happened to float into his ears.

“Man, I just cannot get over that picture Kirishima-san showed us.”

“It totally threw me for a loop! I was wiped out from working overtime, but that snapped me right out of it!”

“It was kinda like getting to see Yokozawa-san’s unexpected true self, you know?”

Yokozawa had initially tuned out their conversation, thinking it nothing more than idle gossip, but his brows furrowed when his own name entered the mix. They had definitely just mentioned a photo.

On wracking his mind to remember the photos Yokozawa was aware that Kirishima had of himself, all he could come up with were those photos–the ones that Kirishima had taken of him that night and subsequently used as blackmail material. While it was hard to imagine that Kirishima would show those to just anyone without reason, he couldn’t very well let this pass.

“Oi, what’s this about me?”

“Uwah! Yokozawa-san?!”

When he called out to them from behind, they glanced back with shocked expressions. One turned pale, and the other looked as if he were about to bolt at any moment.

“So what pictures did you see, exactly?”

“No-nothing!”

“If it’s nothing, then why do you look like that?”

“That’s…that’s just–”

“Spit it out!” he growled in a low voice, and the pair flinched in fright. When he fixed them both under a harsh glare, they began to speak in an attempt to explain themselves.

“W-we didn’t ask to see, understand? Just–Kirishima-san was showing it off last week! Saying that you were waiting at home with dinner for him…”

“Huh?!”

“And–then he showed us a picture of you that his daughter had sent him in a text message… Where you were cooking in a red apron…”

He trailed off, but Yokozawa didn’t need to hear another word to know exactly where that picture had come from–mostly because the only other person who’d been in that kitchen with him had been Hiyori. He couldn’t fathom what had been going through her mind when she’d sent it, but given that he knew she hadn’t meant anything by it, he couldn’t bring himself to be mad at her. What was harder to forgive was the one who’d passed around the photo in the first place.

This must’ve been why Kirishima had been in such remarkably high spirits on returning home Friday night. With that sickly simpering smile and putting on airs…it all made sense now.

He’d been a colossal idiot to think of Kirishima as a good father so easily; knowing now that he’d been making fun of Yokozawa behind his back, he felt his anger boiling over.

“I–it wasn’t our fault! You…understand that, right?”

“Forget it. Right now.” He turned a harsh glare on the pair who’d been hesitantly trying to test the waters around him and ordered them to clear their minds of the image in a gravelly voice.

“But–even if you tell us to, we can’t…”

“Stop your bitching–if you can’t do it on your own, then I’ll help you!”

When he made a fist and raised it to face-level, they grew much more obliging. “N-no, we can do it just fine!”

“And spread the word, too! If anyone breathes a word about this, I’ll make it so they never sell another book again!”

“R-right!!” Just as they straightened up, the elevator reached the first floor, and the doors slowly opened. Despite the fact that they’d been waiting first, the pair obediently stepped to either side to let Yokozawa pass. “Please, go ahead!”

“Aren’t you going to get on?”

“Oh uh–I forgot to drop by the conbini, so–I’m stepping out for a bit!”

“Oh me too! I didn’t buy lunch yet, so I guess I’ll go, too!” They then fled the building, leaving Yokozawa to board the elevator alone.

He tsked softly. “Geez…” The women at reception had probably been snickering because they’d seen that picture of Yokozawa in an apron, too.

Given the time, Kirishima should already be here in the office. Planning to give the guy a piece of his mind, Yokozawa pushed not the button for the sales department on the 3rd floor, but the 5th instead.

Most of the editors with flexible enough schedules weren’t here at this time of morning. Some of them might not even arrive until well into the afternoon. Yokozawa exited the elevator and stepped onto the completely empty shounen manga floor, headed towards the Editor-in-Chief’s desk located near the back.

At the beginning of the week just after finishing a cycle, the only person on the whole floor right now was Kirishima. “Morning. You’re here early.”

Rather than returning the greeting, Yokozawa let his emotions get the better of him. “What the hell were you thinking?!” His loud shouting echoed around the floor–and while most everyone else would’ve cowered in fear at that voice, Kirishima was cool as a cucumber.

“You sure are energetic this morning. But careful–raising your voice like that will send all the blood straight to your head.”

“And just whose fault do you think that is?! I can’t believe you’d just go flashing around other people’s pictures without their permission, you bastard!”

“Oh, that. Well it was just so cute I couldn’t help myself. I thought I’d show you off, and when I let Katou see it, everyone else just gathered around, see.”

“Don’t give me that just couldn’t help myself shit! You even went and showed it to the receptionists!”

“Oh yeah–I was bragging about you earlier, too. Hiyo went out of her way to send me a text message, after all. Going on about how I should work hard because she and Yokozawa-oniichan were making nikujaga for dinner~”

“But that doesn’t mean–”

“Look, I even made it my wallpaper.” Kirishima flipped open his phone and turned the screen to face Yokozawa. There, for all to see, was Yokozawa cutting up vegetables while wearing a red apron with white polkadots.

“Cut it out! What the hell is your problem?!” In the picture, he had a knife in his hands and was peeling a potato, looking as if he’d been doing it for years. Yokzoawa’s head throbbed in pain when he thought about all his coworkers who’d seen this picture.

“It’s just an innocent hobby of mine is all. Come on, it’s fine–you look adorable. This got me through the end of the cycle, you know.”

“Like I care about that! That’s not the issue here–” Sensing the presence of others, he cut himself off. Who knew what rumors would pop up next if people caught him arguing with Kirishima like this.

“Good morning, Kirishima-san!” Two female editors assigned to the anime news magazine entered, carrying their breakfast in their hands. On catching sight of Yokozawa, they started chattering away.

“Yokozawa-san, we saw it!”

“We thought it was strange when Kirishima-san was smiling like that while staring at his cell phone on Friday night, but to have it be over a picture of Yokozawa-san–! That really was quite a shock! That red apron really suited you–it was so cute!”

“Cu…” At their innocently spoken words, he felt a sense of vertigo wash over him. By now, he was used to hearing it from Kirishima, but this had to be the first time a woman had ever called him cute.

He tossed a glance to the man standing at his side, staring off into space and feigning innocence.

“…Oi. Just how many people did you show that picture to?”

“Hm? Oh, I don’t really remember… Before I knew it there was a huge crowd standing behind me, soooo…I guess most everyone who was still around?”

“You…!” When he unthinkingly raised his voice, he heard snickering voices.

“You sure are close with Kirishima-san, huh!”

“How’d you get to be such friends? I never noticed you two hanging out together before.”

“We’re not close!” His brows drew together at the untruth. They probably couldn’t imagine how he’d been taken advantage of in a weakened state and was being blackmailed now. They didn’t seem to mind this response, though, and instead started their own private conversation.

“But–we saw him cooking dinner with Kirishima-san’s daughter at his home! You don’t suppose he’s after her, do you?”

“Of course not! Do you even realize how old she is? I don’t have a Lolita complex!” He caught Kirishima grinning wildly at his unfortunate state. He could practically hear the guy thinking in his mind Yeah, cause you’re gay.

“But I never even realized you could cook~ Quite unexpected, I must say! And you even know how to wield a knife–are you good at housework like that?”

“That reminds me! A bunch of us were thinking of taking a cooking class soon–would you care to join us? Supposedly it includes tips on how to work a bit of simple French cooking into–”

“Like hell.” His angered voice, which could usually make anyone quake in their boots, was now laced with a streak of humiliation, and he knew that it lacked impact. Rather than quailing before the irritated Yokozawa, the women instead continued speaking as they pleased.

“…I feel like I can relate to him more now! Knowing that even Yokozawa-san has a domestic side to him…”

“Oh yes! He’s definitely more approachable now!”

“…………”

To be continued…

Yokozawa’s head started throbbing painfully, and he couldn’t even bring himself to grouse at the gossiping women. He’d never been good at talking with women in the first place; they always burst into tears at the slightest harsh word–and if they didn’t, then instead they were always griping at him.

If he said any more than this, he was just going to be digging his own grave. Deciding he’d be better off changing targets, he turned back to Kirishima. “Anyways–get rid of that picture. Right now.”

“What’s it matter if I keep it for myself so long as I don’t show it to anyone else? Hiyori went out of her way to send it to me, after all.”

Yokozawa rolled his eyes at Kirishima’s pouting face. He felt bad for Hiyori, but if he let this guy keep hold of the data, there was no telling where or when he’d show it to someone. It was bad enough for him to keep the data on his phone, but to let him keep it as his wallpaper was out of the question.

“Just hurry up and get rid of it already! I can’t trust you!”

“I don’t like suspicious people, you know. I suppose it can’t be helped, though–I’ll delete this one for you…….. There you go.” After pressing a few buttons on his cell phone, he turned it so Yokozawa could see and pressed the ‘delete’ button.

Stroking his chest in relief at this one grain of worry finally disappearing, he couldn’t shake the sense of unease at Kirishima’s words. I’ll delete this one for you… Maybe he was overthinking the emphasis on those words…but he couldn’t help but read into it that this meant he still had in his possession the photos from that incident that he was holding over Yokozawa.

If he had his way, he’d much rather those pictures be deleted than this one, but there was no way he could confront him about that while others were around. For the moment, it seemed he hadn’t shown them to anyone else, but he couldn’t discount the possibility that Kirishima might slip up somewhere along the line. They really needed to talk about this; they couldn’t keep up this farce for forever, after all.

“Aww, what a waste~”

Yokozawa turned back to the female editors on hearing their dejected comments. “And–you, too! Erase it from your memories! Right now! Or I’ll make it so you never sell another magazine in this business again!” It was the same trump card he’d played on hearing the gossiping pair earlier, and the women dissolved into complaints.

“Eeh?! You must be joking, surely!”

“That’s abusing your position! You’re so stingy, Yokozawa-san!”

“What you’re doing is a violation of the right to protect my image, as I see it!”

“Geh…”

But it was Kirishima who stepped in to mediate when Yokozawa raised his voice at the quailing pair. “He does have a point, you know.”

“Stop talking like you’ve got nothing to do with this! Who do you think’s the most at fault here?!”

“Well that would be you, for dressing up in such a cute outfit.” At his cocky response, the women joined in with their support, concurring with him.

Recalling his headache from earlier, Yokozawa massaged his forehead and took a deep breath. “Don’t get too full of yourselves.” Seeing that he was well and truly getting pissed off, they finally quieted down. Truthfully, he didn’t mind so much the teasing so long as it was kept at an appropriate level, but they really needed to know their limits.

In place of the cowering pair of editors, Kirishima once again apologized. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t think you’d get this pissed off. I was tired and just–got a little full of myself. I’ll tell everyone I showed the picture to to let it go, so–forgive me?”

“You’d better.”

“I said I would; a man never goes back on his word.”

Having pressed home his point with Kirishima, Yokozawa left. It was only Monday, and already he was exhausted. He boarded the elevator, which had luckily enough been stopped at the 5th floor, and returned to the sales department on the 3rd floor. He’d come into work early intending to get some work done in the morning while he could, but now he’d completely wasted his free time.

A good half of the sales department personnel had already arrived, and as he hung his coat on the coat rack, Henmi noticed him and lifted his head from where he’d been focusing on his computer.

“Ah–good morning, Yokozawa-san!”

“Morning.” He tossed back the greeting as he made his way to his desk. He unconsciously judged Henmi’s state, curious as to whether or not he’d seen the picture. Despite his misgivings, though, Henmi seemed the same as always.

Most of the sales personnel had already left by Friday evening–Yokozawa himself had been the one to douse the lights on their floor, even. Considering that, the likelihood of Henmi having seen the picture was next to zero, but he still decided to make sure, just in case. “…So, did you see it?”

“Hm? See what? Ah–the materials for today’s meeting? I was just about to!”

“Oh–no, it’s fine if you haven’t seen it.” It seemed word hadn’t gotten around to Henmi just yet. When he thought about it, given that Kirishima had shown the picture off on Friday evening, really the only ones who would’ve had a chance to catch it were those stationed on the shounen manga floor. There was no way it would’ve gotten all the way down to the sales floor.

“I–I’m sorry! I’ll read through them right away!” Misunderstanding Yokozawa’s words, Henmi grew flustered and quickly turned back to his computer. Feeling it too much of a hassle to clear it up, Yokozawa decided to just let him get back to work.

Really–it wasn’t as if it was anything he needed to be all that ashamed of anyways. He’d just worn something that hadn’t suited him was all, and he reconsidered that perhaps there hadn’t been any need to overreact as he had.

He turned on his computer and started to go through the emails that had piled up over the weekend. He put off reading through the digests and skimmed over messages containing bookstore information and comments from readers, first taking care of those messages he could reply to immediately.

“The new issues seem to be selling rather well!”

“Yeah. They’re flying off the shelves faster than we’d anticipated. Looks like we’ll need to put in a reprint order soon.”

“And it seems the timing was perfect for the Za Kan release announcement, too. The back issues are selling nicely, and the magazine is selling off quickly as well, thankfully. Kirishima-san’s tactic really saved us!”

“Yeah…though I’m not sure if it was just a happy accident or if he was actually that clever.” He could probably learn a thing or two from Kirishima, who always tried to turn any situation into an opportunity. Before he’d started being dragged around like this, he really hadn’t known much about the guy. Kirishima had always been so aloof and standoffish, Yokozawa had assumed he was a crafty fox of a man that no one knew what he was thinking.

Granted, that was exactly what he was, but Yokozawa now understood that that was only one side of him. He was also the type of horrible person who’d trip you up if you gave him the chance…just as he was also a father who couldn’t help fawning over his daughter and who gave in to his emotions all too easily from time to time.

“That reminds me, Yokozawa-san–you’ve been in a rather good mood lately!” Henmi commented idly, keeping his gaze on his computer screen.

Yokozawa quickly tightened up his slackened expression and objected, “Huh? Just how have I been in a good mood?” How could he possible be having fun after having been so thoroughly rejected and then subsequently jerked around by Kirishima?

“Just–the furrow between your brows has gotten shallower, and you’ve been leaving work earlier, too. We were all a little worried for a while there, since you seemed really depressed.”

Yokozawa hadn’t realized in the slightest that everyone had noticed how depressed he’d been–but thinking back now, he did get the sense that they’d all been treading carefully around him.

With his personality, though, he could hardly bring himself to thank them for caring. “I’ve been leaving earlier because I’ve been less busy with work, that’s all.” Given that he was lying through his teeth, he was less articulate than usual.





“Really? It looks to me like you’ve been taking on more work than usual… Have you not noticed that because of that, I’ve had more work than usual as well?”

Yokozawa turned on Henmi at his jokingly reproachful words. “That hardly counts as more work!”

“Unlike you, Yokozawa-san, I’m just a rank-and-file worker! Please don’t be so unreasonable!”

“What’re you going on about? I’m just a rank-and-file worker, too. I’ve just got more years and experience on you, so I know the gist of how things go is all.”

Henmi gaped at Yokozawa in wide-eyed shock. “Eh? Are you…trying to make me feel better?” His gaze was unbearable, and Yokozawa immediately regretted saying something so unlike him. He really should have avoided doing things he wasn’t used to.

“If you want to take it that way, I suppose.”

“…You’ve definitely changed a little! When was it…I suppose from around when you started going out for drinks with Kirishima-san?”

“………..” He swallowed thickly when Kirishima’s name came up so casually in conversation. He clenched his teeth to keep his agitation from being noticed and pasted on a poker face.

“Man, at first, I was shocked whenever Kirishima-san came all the way down to the sales floor! When did you two get to be so close?”

“We’re not close.”

The female editors from earlier had made the same comment, but given that he had reasons he couldn’t turn down any of Kirishima’s invitations, he supposed as others saw it, they seemed to be getting close. But he hardly considered the time he spent with Kirishima to be fun.

When he refuted the insinuation with a sour expression, Henmi misinterpreted it as his just being humble and replied cheerfully, “Oh come on now, it’s plain to see how the tension in your shoulders relaxes when you’re talking to Kirishima-san! Ah–is the reason you’ve been in such a good mood lately because you’ve been spending time with Kirishima-san, maybe?”

“Like hell!”

“!!” Henmi immediately shut up when Yokozawa suddenly snapped at him. He probably hadn’t expected to be shouted at, given how the conversation had been progressing thus far. Yokozawa immediately regretted his actions, seeing Henmi sitting there wide-eyed and at a loss for words.

It was better to be misunderstood than to have everyone know the truth; he should’ve just let the chips fall where they would. But somehow, whenever it came to Kirishima, he always wound up overreacting like this.

“…Sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice like that.”

“Oh…n-no…”

Unable to repair the now-awkward atmosphere between them, Yokozawa stood up from the seat he’d just taken. He needed to get some fresh air and cool his head.

“I’m going to make my rounds.”

As he stuffed a file in his briefcase, Henmi hesitantly reminded him, “Eh, but–we have a meeting from 11 o’clock…?”

“I’ll be back by then. I’ve sent you the documents by email, so print out enough for everyone.”

“Wait–Yokozawa-san?!”

He ignored the call and continued on in the opposite direction from all his coworkers just getting into the office.

“…I’m absolutely exhausted…” His first time out drinking with clients in a while had been rougher than usual. Even though there was drinking, it was unforgivable to go so far as to actually get drunk, so he hadn’t been able to shake off the nerves and tension.

Burying himself in work today and thereby avoiding Kirishima had helped to cool his head. He knew that having drink with a manager from a bookstore who’d invited him out earlier would be a just cause to turn the guy down–but it still left him feeling guilty, somehow.

When he’d texted Kirishima with /I can’t come over tonight/, though, he’d been surprisingly understanding. While the response had been a bit anticlimactic, he had to take into account the fact that Kirishima was an office worker just like himself. When he thought about it, there was no way he could have expected Kirishima to put Yokozawa over his work.

Yokozawa was more than a little concerned at how disappointed he actually was, when he himself had been the one to say he wouldn’t go.

“What the hell is wrong with me…?”

He looked forward to being able to see Hiyori, that much was true, but he’d only been dragged around against his will by Kirishima–it wasn’t like he’d let his guard down around the guy. Sure, he might’ve been a bit touched by some of the things Kirishima did, but that was it.

As for the picture Hiyori had sent…to tell the truth, he wasn’t really all that pissed about it anymore. When he’d first learned of it, his blood had gone straight to his head, but it wasn’t as if he’d been doing anything all that embarrassing, and reflecting on it now, it was probably more pathetic that he’d let himself blow up that much over it.

More than that, though, he was concerned at how large a role Kirishima had now come to play in his life.

He set his briefcase down on his table along with chain-store gyuudon he’d bought for dinner and pulled off his suit jacket. As he slipped casually into his chair, Sorata came pawing at his feet. “Meow~”

“Ah, Sorata–I’ll get your dinner for you, wait a minute. You can eat the canned stuff tonight.”

Sorata was rarely this clingy, but perhaps because Yokozawa had been pulling so many long hours lately, tonight he’d been on Yokozawa’s heels from the moment he’d gotten home. Maybe he was lonely from being left on his own so long.

“It’s been a while since we got to eat together, huh? …Sorry I’ve left you here alone so much lately. Work’ll let up soon, so bear with it a bit longer.”

His apartment stocked with only the bare minimum of items required to get by felt lonelier than usual for some reason. Having gotten used to being surrounded by the liveliness of a child, it was now impossible to deny that it was lonely here. If it weren’t for Sorata being here, he probably wouldn’t have been able to stand being by himself now.

“That’s ’cause Hiyo’s such a chatterbox…” Always going on about and then, and then from one topic to the next–popular fads at school, or what subjects she had lessons in that day, what she had for lunch, she loved talking about everything that happened to her that day. Sometimes she’d get tired in the middle of a conversation and just drift off like that.

She was probably asleep right then. Apparently thinking he was planning on coming later, she’d sent him a text earlier urging /Come over tomorrow!/–but while he longed to see her, he didn’t plan on going to Kirishima’s house again for the time being.

He needed to set some boundaries and put his thoughts in order. He couldn’t understand why he lost his composure like this whenever it came to Kirishima. Like this, he hadn’t even had time to think about his broken heart.

“Dammit–why does his face keep coming to mind?” Even though Kirishima was the last person he wanted to see right now, whenever he let his guard down, he found himself thinking of the guy. Never in his whole life had there been such a person as Kirishima to throw Yokozawa off his game like this.

Spacing out while still holding the canned food, he heard Sorata meow at him for attention. When he glanced down, Sorata was rubbing against his feet in irritation.

“Ah–sorry, sorry. Here, I’ll open it now.”

He ran a bit of warm water into the can after opening it to loosen the food and dumped the contents in Sorata’s food bowl, at which point Sorata dug in with vigor. Since he’d been spending a lot of time out of the house, Yokozawa had taken to leaving out dry cat food. While Sorata didn’t seem to really have any likes or dislikes, he obviously preferred canned food.

“Tasty, huh?”

Of course, Sorata was so engrossed in his meal that he offered no response. He wasn’t a young cat anymore, so Yokozawa understood that he needed to put him on a diet, but the guilt of not being able to be there for Sorata much ate at him, and he found himself picking up new brands of food whenever they showed up on the grocery store shelves.

Watching the way Sorata ate, obviously enjoying his meal, he couldn’t help but think that he needed to buy some more for him. Takano would often berate him with You’re too soft on Sorata, and Yokozawa did understand it–but he still couldn’t help himself.

“…Guess I’ll eat, too.”

But his gyuudon had gone cold by now and somehow tasted even worse than usual.