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「Anonymous」Chapter 8
Chapter 8
“So… What’s new?” Nino took a swig of beer, inviting Aiba to talk.
Aiba looked up, suddenly brought back to reality by Nino’s voice, as if just realizing he was sitting across from him that whole time. He’d been rather quiet since Nino had finally agreed to meet with him at the usual place. “Not much.”
Nino would have expected to find Aiba a lot more eager to see him, but instead, Aiba had left his drink untouched, without speaking a word or giving another apology like the ones he had sent Nino in his text messages.
Ninomiya frowned at his friend, his body language saying more than his words. “You sure?”
Aiba affirmed it with a nod that was all but convincing.
“Then, what was this thing you texted about… ‘doing something stupid’?” Nino asked, watching how Aiba’s expression changed completely. “And what you wrote about me calling you if you didn’t text by midnight? Care to explain that?”
“I was drunk.” Aiba said quickly while Nino rose a brow at him. “I was very drunk.” Even though his words wouldn’t work to fool the other, Aiba still knew his excuse would sound more believable to Nino than the truth.
Ninomiya set his cup aside before he cleared his throat. His arms crossed over the table as he looked straight at Aiba. “I appreciate what you’re doing, but… I’m also trying really hard right now to make small talk and you’re not much of a help here. So, I want to hear about anything. That is including Anon.”
Aiba wouldn’t have expected to hear Nino addressing the root of his distraction, but once he’d heard his name being spoken, it was inevitable to deny it.
“What if… nothing has happened with him so far?” Aiba tried.
“I highly doubt that. You talk every single day, don’t you?”
“Yeah, but it’s just… talk.”
“About?” Nino nudged him to go into details.
Aiba, in the other hand, doubted he were really interested to know. “Many things.”
“Like?”
“I can’t possibly remember all!”
“Can you admit you haven’t learned anything about him?”
Aiba avoided Nino’s stare. Other than a very detailed description of the warmness of his touch, the softness of his lips or even the smell of his piercing cologne, Aiba had nothing to share with Nino.
“But that was the point of all of this, no?” Added Nino. “Don’t you have any sort of lead to track down who he really is?”
“I’m… not sure.” Aiba responded, weakly.
“Do you even want to anymore or… are you actually scared to know?”
Aiba always hated how easy it was for the younger to get in his head. He was nothing but an open book for Ninomiya, as if his insecurities were placed one by one before him.
“It’ll be pathetic if I just left it as secret, but… I guess I’m not too sure of what to think anymore, when it comes to him.”
“Because it would mean a lot to you,” said Ninomiya suddenly. “Once you know who he is, the question would be if you would rather date them or not. You don’t want it to come to something you’d rather regret, is that it?”
Aiba wondered to himself if he’d already crossed that line where he would regret it all. “At least… I know I’ll have an answer for him when the time comes. That much I promised him.”
“Wouldn’t it be hard if you had to turn them down after all?” Asked Nino.
“Of course it would. It always is…”
“Would you reject them if it turns out they’re not exactly who you expected them to be? You know, like… someone you barely know or… someone other than Jun?”
Aiba sighed. “I’ll do my best to judge it when the time comes.”
“Any idea when that will be?” Nino asked, not with the irritation his voice reflected all those other times he’d asked, but with genuine concern.
Aiba shook his head. “If I were to insist much more, it would probably scare him away.”
This time, Ninomiya scoffed. “And you actually like a guy like that?”
Aiba pouted at the younger. “I never said I liked him.”
“You didn’t have to. It’s all over your face.” Ninomiya downed a large swig of beer before setting his cup down. Allowing himself a second of silence, his gaze followed the marks on the table distractedly. The corner of his lips curled as if a thought had come back to him suddenly. “To be honest… this whole deal with Anon texting you day and night and you obsessing over a stalker is probably your dumbest move yet.” Although offended, Aiba listened. “But, I have to admit… I haven’t seen you in such a good mood over anything in a pretty long time.”
Masaki looked away, trying to hide the smile that Ninomiya’s words provoked in him, causing him to recognize he had truly missed his friend.
“I know I haven’t been the most approving with Anon,” Nino continued. “but if you’re serious about this, I’ll try all I can to understand your feelings.”
Aiba’s eyes smiled at the other, touched by his gesture, knowing it must be costing him all his strengths. Overwhelmed by his words, Aiba whispered a deep “Thank you,” for only Nino to hear, which the latter was too flushed to accept and brushed off as he drank.
Aiba left out a deep sigh, collecting himself again. “Enough about me.” He intended to break the atmosphere at their table. “I want to hear what you’ve been up to all this time.”
Nino seemed flattered by his attempt. “I’ve been around… thinking.”
“About?” It was Aiba’s turn to invite him to abound.
“A lot… nothing else, really. I’ve… been thinking too much.” Aiba noticed how the younger lost himself in thought and only came back when he realized Aiba’s gaze was still locked on him.
“You won’t say anything at all?” Aiba asked.
Nino shook his head, regretfully. “Not now.” He said, wishing he could hide from Aiba’s eyes. “I still need some time.”
Even if Nino had agreed to see him that day, Aiba understood he needed to be more patient and give him the space he needed before he could truly come back. His attempt to see him that day was more than what Aiba could be thankful for. For now, he could only rest assured that he still hadn’t lost his friend.
~
‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen a rainier day
than the ones I don’t see you.’
‘Anon?’
‘That’s really sweet of you.’
‘Haven’t seen you all morning. Are you not
coming in today?’
‘No.’
‘I think I got a cold. Couldn’t even get
out of bed this morning.’
‘Oh... I’m sorry.’
‘I’ll be fine. I hope it’s no trouble though,
I had to stay home.’
‘No, of course not.’
‘Only trouble’s that it had to be you
who got sick.’
‘Again, you’re very sweet.’
‘Ugh… And I actually wanted to go to
work today.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Okay, maybe not “wanted” but I had things to do.
It’ll be bad if there were a setback in the project
because of me.’
‘Why don’t you take today to rest and not
think about work for a bit?’
‘Besides, the sooner you get better, the sooner
you can come back.’
‘You’re right… I can’t even think
straight right now.’
‘What are you feeling?’
‘Headache. My nose is on fire, as well as my throat.
Even my eyes hurt. It’s pretty bad.’
‘That can’t be good.’
‘Have you checked your temperature?’
‘Not yet. I had to lay down for a bit.’
‘Stay in bed as much as you need to.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Although what I really need is some
medicine.’
‘Think you can take care of it?’
‘If I manage to get out of bed.’
‘Anon, bad news…’
‘?’
‘I think I may have forgotten to re-stock
on meds.’
‘I have the worst luck.’
‘You don’t have medicine?’
‘No.’
‘And I really can’t go out in this weather.’
‘Don’t you have someone you could
ask for help?’
‘You’ve made up with Nino, no?
Maybe you could call him?’
‘I could ask him, but he won’t come until
after he’s done with his shift. You know…
because “pay day is coming up”.’
‘What about a family member?’
‘They all live in Chiba and they must very busy.
I don’t want to ask for them to come all
the way here for a minor cold.’
‘Meaning…?’
‘You’re alone?’
‘Yeah… seems like it.’
‘Have you eaten anything?’
‘Only a little. I’m just really tired.’
‘Anyway, I’m feeling kind of dizzy.
I’ll text Nino later. I’d rather
take a nap right now.’
‘Alright.’
‘If there’s anything I can do for you,
don’t hesitate to ask.’
‘Do you mean that?’
‘Every word.’
‘Then… do you think it’ll be stupid if I gave
you my address?’
‘You could come, if you can...’
‘…’
‘What am I saying? I can’t make you
miss work.’
‘It’s not that…’
‘I just didn’t think you would suggest it.’
‘It’s stupid, I know. I’m probably hallucinating by
saying this but… I hate being alone. Especially
when I’m feeling this sick.’
‘I don’t know what else to do.’
‘Would you come?’
‘If I get you something to make you feel less worse,
I could be of some help to you.’
‘There is drug store not far from my place. You could
leave it at the door if it bothers you.’
‘I wouldn’t mind though, if you came in.’
‘I trust you enough.’
‘And I promise not to look.’
‘You would do that?’
‘I’ve done a lot more already, haven’t I?’
‘Rest for now.’
‘Okay.’
‘Masaki?’
‘You awake?’
‘It’s almost my lunch break.’
‘Can you wait a little?’
‘Yeah.’
‘I’ll send you my address in a bit.’
…
A light knock on the front door awoke Masaki on the sofa. Even on his subconscious, he could tell it was him. When he tried to utter an answer, he found his voice trapped in the burning walls of his throat. It was worthless to try. Another knock came but after giving it enough thought, the knob rattled after noticing the door was unlock and it opened hesitantly.
Masaki expected a greeting as he came in, or just a hint of his voice would have been enough, but in its absence, he acknowledged he was being careful once again. Masaki heard the door close behind him, which could only mean he’d decided to come in.
Masaki buried himself in his sheets. Other than the goosebumps running through his body, he felt his heart starting to race. Suddenly he couldn’t tell if this was a good idea after all.
A pair of feet moved across the room, standing close behind the sofa before moving away again. The sound of a bag rustled and settled on top of his kitchen counter. Slowly, packages were taken out one by one. He walked once again, closer to the sofa, trusting Aiba’s sight was obstructed underneath his sheets. He placed the store-bought goods on his coffee table, close enough to Aiba’s reach. But when he began to move away again, Masaki found enough strength to make use of his voice.
“Anon…?” It came weak and hoarse but still enough to make him stop and turn around.
He realized now he didn’t have to hide, noticing the eye mask that covered Masaki’s sight. He initially thought he would be calm once he knew he couldn’t see him, but now he couldn’t help but think of how vulnerable Masaki had made himself if only to please him. And he hated it.
A hand peeked from the covers, reaching out to what could receive it, not disappointed when it found his touch. The same warmness he’d come to know that night, that same gentle feeling when he held his hand. It was almost too well printed in his skin, like a memory. Aiba’s grip refused to let go, eventually forcing him to lean down closer. They seemed like the smallest minutes while he felt him beside him, but it felt like everything. Eventually, it was not just his thumb tracing over Aiba’s hand, but his remaining hand had found a place on Aiba’s head, grazing his hair as he invited him to rest.
His grip loosened, and understanding he asked for Masaki to do the same, he regretfully let go. He felt him once again moving into his kitchen, this time, opening drawers, hearing the clattering of glass, the door to his fridge and the pouring of a liquid. When his feet returned to his side, his hand shook him gently. Dazed between sleep and consciousness, Masaki sat up on the sofa laboriously, unknowing on what the other tried to signal him.
Aiba felt a new weight sinking on the sofa and setting beside him suddenly. Masaki’s sense all turned to his motions. There was surely an opening of a package and the rattling of pills. Masaki felt his hand pulling on his, inviting him to open his palm and giving him a single pill, which Masaki felt carefully. A cold glass was pressed into his other hand as he invited him to take it.
Masaki drank the medicine without complaints, sharing the other’s silence as he finished his glass and the other was ready to take it off his hands. Noticing his shivering, he began to tug Masaki into his sheets once more, straightening them over his shoulders securely. But Masaki was not planning to lay down again. Instead he waited for something the other refused to give him.
“Anon,” Masaki voiced, this time much clearer than the last. “Thank you.” His hand reached for him, to know he hadn’t left his side. “I think I haven’t said it enough, and I’m sorry… I’ve asked so much from you,”
A response came from the other, although not verbally, as his hand grabbed fondly on Masaki’s.
“This seems really selfish of me, but… I knew you wouldn’t let me down. You care about me and you worry so much… It’s almost unfair… that I have nothing to give back.”
Masaki felt the other’s leaning until he felt the placement of tender lips pressing on his cheek. The suddenness of his gesture brought color to Masaki’s cheeks.
Masaki chuckled. “That… I guess I did give you. But honestly, even I’ve been wondering… if what we did was correct.” Masaki’s hand gradually draws away from the other’s touch. “Lately… I haven’t been able to recognize what is appropriate anymore.” There was an unmistakable doubt in his voice that restrained the other from reaching for Masaki’s hand again.
“Don’t get me wrong. You are a wonderful person and this time with you has only taught me that I wish I knew you sooner,” Masaki is searching again, his fingers tracing on the other until his hand rests on his cheek. “That I wish I knew more… But I know you asked me to wait. I know… but I thought…” He pauses, his voice dry and in pain, yet the other’s silence allowed for his words to come slowly. “I thought I could. I just want to know how much more time you need, because… I don’t know how much longer I can go on pretending I know you.”
“And I know I promised you an answer to your feelings, but… I don’t know if I can give you anything as we are right now. Maybe… if you gave me a hint, a sign… maybe I could stop feeling so confused. If you could talk to me… or if you just let me see,” The other took Masaki’s hand, drawing it away from his cheek and letting it rest in his hand instead.
A knot seemed to tie on Aiba’s throat. The lack of an answer from the other slowly pushing tears into his hidden eyes. “You won’t say anything… why? What are you afraid of?” Masaki asked without receiving an answer. “Is it because of me? After all this time… do you still doubt yourself so much?”
He waited for a move, a word, but nothing came, as if the other had deprived him from perceiving sound as well. Masaki sighed. “Why did you come? Was there a reason? Other than me? Tell me anything and I’ll believe you. If you don’t refuse… I guess there is no use of me wearing this anymore…” Masaki’s reached for his eye mask without hesitation when he felt his hands being pulled away abruptly, forbidding him from going on any further.
Finding enough of an answer in his actions, Masaki didn’t struggle against him, letting the other realize it by himself until he let go of Masaki’s wrist quickly and regretfully. Masaki understood now it was meaningless to expect the other’s voice, no matter how much he probably meant to apologize.
“I can’t change your mind… can’t I?” Masaki asked with hurt.
Masaki felt the sofa shifting, the other’s weight leaning closer until his touch bestowed him a print of his lips in his forehead. He was sorry. This time, Masaki couldn’t hold back his frustration and it came out in the form of tears his eye mask refused to let show.
“You know… If you keep doing that, you’ll end up getting sick. If you don’t come in the office, maybe then… I’ll know,” Masaki feels the other shifting in the sofa, inching away subtly. “Is it really that obvious?” he asked him, receiving a silence that said it all. “Then, why do I still doubt who you are?” His voice broke. After another failed response, he resigned.
Masaki dried his nose, tiered and ill, he tugged himself back on his covers. “It must be getting late,” Masaki refused to face him. “I shouldn’t have kept you this long. You should go.” He said no more, decided to lay back on the sofa to resume with his rest.
He’d waited for the moment the other finally left his side, wondering if maybe he hoped a little longer, something would change his mind, but no matter how much he hesitated before moving away, it wasn’t enough to make him stay. The other’s feet moved across the room, perhaps taking things of his own he’d scattered. There was only a brief second when his steps stopped by the door, wanting to utter something Masaki couldn’t hear or just to look back at him a last time, almost as if knowing he wouldn’t be able to do so in a long time.
Eventually, Masaki heard his door opening and closing just as quickly, but all he could do was sink into his covers, refusing to take his eye mask off and give in to the tears that he’d been holding back.
~
When he came back to his senses, he realized his eyes stung. His body began to ache by the position he’d assumed on the sofa although it hadn’t felt like much had passed since he’d gone to sleep. He was about to search for his phone when realized he wasn’t alone in his apartment. The source of sound came from his kitchen, a constant opening and closing of drawers. He hadn’t been expecting anyone as he recalled, but he did remember him.
Masaki swore he had just left, but the pace and the silence with which he moved across the room said otherwise. Had he regretted leaving so suddenly? Or had his parting all been a product of his fever? Masaki understood there was only one way of knowing.
Quietly, he removed the sheets from over his head and pulled off the eye mask daringly. His eyes took their time to get adjusted to the light in the room, but before his vision would clear, the one by the kitchen took notice of him.
“You’re finally up?” Nino asked, the sharp sound of knifes working over the kitchen counter. “You slept like a log.”
Aiba sat up on the sofa with drowsy eyes. “What time is it?”
“Late enough,” Nino moved from the kitchen to bring a steaming cup to Aiba by the sofa. “Would’ve come here sooner if my manager wouldn’t have asked for me to close today. That jerk… and he knew I was in a hurry.”
Masaki took the warm cup from Nino and drank from it before he was suddenly surprised by its bitter taste. “What is this?” Aiba groaned with disgust. “It’s bad!”
“It’s medicinal, and you’re drinking all of it.” Nino moved back into the kitchen where the stoves were lit and a strong smell was starting to spread in Aiba’s apartment. “I brought you some things, although it looked like you’d already done some shopping yourself.”
Aiba was about to question him before he noticed the pills and cough drops laying on his coffee table. So, it hadn’t been a dream.
“Are you feeling any better?” Nino asked, but Aiba was still distracted, looking at the things he had brought for him as if they were trace of him themselves.
“Yeah… a little.”
“Then finish your tea. The food is almost done.”
Ninomiya served him their dinner not much later and assumed his usual position by the coffee table as they ate, leaving the sofa solely for Aiba.
“Jun came around the café today,” Nino started, catching Aiba’s attention almost instantly. “He was asking about you. Seemed pretty worried.”
“He always worries…”
“You’re going to ask him out?”
Masaki paused over his food to stare at the younger. “Why you ask?”
“I don’t know. You two seem to be waiting for each other to do something and it’s getting kind of pathetic to watch,” Masaki pouted although he couldn’t deny the blush appearing in his cheeks. “So? Are you giving it a shot?”
Masaki became silent as if considering his words before he realized he couldn’t bring a certain person out of his thoughts. He wondered, still, if there were a possibility that Ninomiya spoke of the same person.
“Do you really think he likes me that way?” Aiba asked, almost making Nino choke on his food.
The younger wiped his mouth, unable to contain a laugh. “You’re kidding, right?” Masaki looked at Nino innocently, having perceived no joke from his own words. “You’re seriously the worst at picking up flirting, aren’t you?” Ninomiya laughed again.
Although Masaki still seemed confused with his assumption, seeing the younger laugh so whole-heartedly warmed Masaki more than the food Nino had made for them.
~
Aiba admitted Anon did right on not texting him. There was nothing he could have said to make Masaki feel any better, nor did Masaki know how he would respond if Anon sent a new message. It had become difficult to find the words that would encourage another conversation with Anon as he was now, and he wished for nothing but to avoid it most of all. He would have even considered to leave his phone behind, if it wasn’t for the fact that he needed it for work. Eventually, he decided to relay on the idea that Anon would understand he needed time away from their chat and his messages.
Just as Ninomiya had predicted, Jun had been expecting Aiba’s arrival that morning most anxiously. The moment Aiba stepped into the office, immediately he found the younger facing the entrance as if he’d been imagining he would walk in at any minute. He received Aiba with an expectant smile, as if knowing Aiba wouldn’t let him down. He did not delay on helping Aiba catch up in both work and with his own individual matters, as Masaki had insisted on asking about his mother’s recovery. Jun assured him she was fine, insisting Masaki shouldn’t worry when he’d just gotten sick himself.
“It was nothing,” Aiba claimed. “Just a minor cold. I’m all better already.”
“I’m… happy to hear that, because… I was wondering… You know I’ve been working some extra hours these past few days and I think it might be enough to get off early today. So, I meant to ask you if you were free? Tonight?”
Jun’s words certainly came boldly, although Aiba couldn’t help but infer his promptness would have been the work of another. And just as he had listened to his friend before, his answer came with no hesitation.
“I would like that… very much.”
As the office resumed with its usual pace that day, things were finally starting to subside in the company, as Aiba perceived. For a moment, he no longer felt himself carrying the same burdens he’d once worried about before. Rumors of bankruptcy were no longer spreading, and tensions had suddenly subsided. Perhaps now, he thought, things were beginning to normalize for the better. And he wished it would have lasted longer.
The director came out of his office abruptly and faced the room in silence while the secretary followed behind him hastily. It seemed his presence was not enough to call for the attention of his employment. It wasn’t until they heard his door slam shut that the room finally rose its attention towards him.
At first glance, Sakurai seemed agitated, as if he’d just ran a mile. His silence fed on everyone’s petrified looks, like prey about to be feasted on. Everything else felt miniscule, and they all waited for him to take his victim.
“Does anyone care to explain the email I’ve just been sent?” Sakurai regained his composure before taking word, although his eyes said the opposite. “Or should I paraphrase it for all of you?”
Sakurai unfolded a paper of little content, but enough to have startled him out of his office. “It would look like I’ve received a response for a contract from the Jensen Association, but instead I have to read the words ‘cease’ and ‘terminate’ in what seems to be the most brief and insulting letter I’ve been addressed to as director of this office. It is utter insolence.” Sakurai set the paper aside with little delicacy, tiring himself of its content and returning to the silence of the room. “I will not tolerate such ignorance to be practiced under my supervision. Now… Don’t make this any more complicated. I want to know, whoever was in charge of managing this project, to tell me what in their damn mind was so much important to have neglected this client.”
Looks were shot across the room, none of them pointing at anyone or saying anything, as if they’ve all proven themselves strangers on the case.
“Is that it?” He asked, and after a lack of response, Sakurai sighed disappointedly. “If no one comes forward at this exact moment, I’m afraid you would only regret it later.” He threatened, if only decreasing the chance of any one of them to step up. “Then… I don’t suppose I would have to investigate myself who sent those emails?” He tried again and soon realized his patience was being tested. “So, it is no one?” Sakurai fumed. “I’ll have you all know that if I have to repeat myself again, I will conduct an inspection right this instant, and no one would be allowed to exit this office until I get my answer. Now…” He waited, observing each lane of desk, watching on their reactions for the most minimal movement until he became tired of being played with. “Speak up!” He yelled, shaking the room as if a thunder had stroke.
It was not until then that Aiba held his breath, and stood up from his desk, bracing himself for the worst. When Sakurai’s cold eyes lay on him, it paralyzed Masaki, making him forget how to use his voice.
“S-Sir,” Aiba managed to utter as the blood pounded against his ears. “I-I did… I sent them.”
The expression in Sakurai had transformed into something Aiba couldn’t read at all, undergoing a transition as if his patience had been completely spent. Behind him, the secretary was about to alert the director of something before being completely ignored.
“Why?” There was difficulty in his voice.
Masaki swallowed. “I-I was appointed to send the emails to the production department for them to carry out.”
“And? Once they carried it out, did it occur to you to verify their status after, or did you send a response to the client about it? Did it even occur to you to assign a next meeting for the consultation of the pitch or at least a reminder to make sure they were still satisfied with our service?”
“I’m afraid I didn’t, sir.” Masaki’s eyes could only meet the floor, afraid his words would trigger anything worse. The only time he dared to raise his sight, he encountered what he mostly feared in Sakurai’s eyes, burning as he’d never felt them on himself in all of his career. It was a look he could only describe as disappointment.
“And why is it that this task was so impossible for you to complete?”
“I…” Aiba paused, torn between the truth and a lie. His eyes turned to look for Ikuta whom avoided his gaze most of all. Still, he’d already had made a decision. “I forgot.”
“You forgot?” Sakurai repeated, taken aback by his response.
“I have no other excuse, sir.”
“It is not an excuse I’m asking for, but an explanation.”
Aiba inhaled to compose his nerves. “I have none, sir.”
Sakurai breathed out exasperated. “I don’t believe this is your response to me of ‘taking responsibility’, is it? Because… if it were the case, I wouldn’t be able to describe how much you’ve deceived me.” He came closer to Aiba’s desk. “And I don’t suppose… you would make me think I did wrong in estimating you... although you are not the most punctual when you are required to. You speak out of place… and demand certain things you can’t even return. How do you expect to take responsibility of others when you won’t even fulfill your own? Tell me,” His words came slowly along with his steps, until they halted merely a meter away from Aiba. At his proximity, Aiba’s heart felt like bursting, unable to move under the director’s gaze. And he leaned it just a little closer to make sure his words would reach him. “What good is someone who can’t even keep his word?”
Jun took a stand at once, before Sakurai would say another word. “Sir, I’m afraid there might be a mistake,” Jun argued collected and steady. “Aiba was never in charge of such project. He had only but one client and their contract signing already took place. Their pitch was already done. Their client was more than pleased! This couldn’t possibly be his fault-”
“I don’t think I remember asking for your interference.” Sakurai interjected, addressing Jun. “What makes you think I would want your opinion? I’ll have you know, you are in no position to make claims considering you’ve taken more than enough liberty of your own. If you think you may have passed unnoticed, you are wrong. Your numbers are red enough, Matsumoto. Believe me… you don’t want to provoke me.”
Jun struggled to hold himself back. His knuckles turned red from the strength he repressed, and he hid his infuriation in a sharp exhale. He never turned away from Sakurai as the other returned an equally threatening gaze. Eventually, Sakurai’s silence forced him to resign, cursing to himself of how weak his emotions had made him.
The moment Sakurai returned to Aiba, the latter flinched by just the feeling of his gaze falling on him once again. His breath held tight, stiffening, wishing only he could close his eyes to lessen the sting his words would land on him next. The more it delayed, the more his heart ran. If he would only get it over with, but it seemed that even the position he’d manage to make Aiba assume pleased him more than taking the final strike. And Aiba felt it would never end, no matter how much he wanted it to, no matter how much it hurt. After all, he was afraid.
Finally, as a sign of indifference, Sakurai sighed exhaustedly. “This is a waste of my time,” He moved away quickly, out the office and towards the elevators. The secretary rushed to his side after alerting everyone to get back to work. Not a second later, both had disappeared almost as suddenly as they had come, leaving behind a clouding apprehension that forbid any space for word or movement.
~
The moment Masaki left his chair, Jun’s gaze followed him all the way through the office. Walking across the room, avoiding contact with everyone, and heading straight to the emergency stair case. The instant the door closed behind him, Jun followed. He opened the heavy door carefully as to not make a sound and followed the echoes of Masaki’s descending steps. He leaned out the spiral staircase, catching but a glimpse of the older as he’d found his way through another floor. When the door closed, Jun hurried down, following the steps Masaki left behind.
If he remembered well, the door Masaki had chosen was an abandoned floor. It remained under construction for several months before its preparations were suddenly interrupted. There was still furniture that’d been placed there, along with pieces of wood and gear that’d only helped to pile dust with time. Although the area was restricted, no one would care to secure the way in because there was nothing to find there. Overall, the floor was always empty.
Walking pass the clutter, Jun only had to follow the light sound of a sob emerging down the hall. He walked carefully to not startle Aiba and found him at a turn. Alone and by a bench in which seemed like a waiting area, Aiba hid. His crying was but a murmur.
When Masaki perceived a presence behind him, he held his breath, turning with surprise, finding Jun firmly fixed on him.
“Jun…” Aiba tried to speak as collectively as he could, hiding the tears he dried from his face with a handkerchief that seemed to catch Jun’s attention. “W-What are you doing here?”
Jun didn’t respond and approached him instead, taking a place by Masaki’s side as his gaze never left the older. It was impossible to hide his reddened eyes from Jun now. The more the younger stared with an evident hurt, the more Masaki’s eyes watered again. Immediately, he gave in on pretending.
Masaki sobbed into the handkerchief for long minutes, overpowered by the still throbbing shock. He was unable to utter a word as he humiliated himself in front of Jun, although a much greater humiliation had already been done. Jun didn’t dare give a word or a touch, unaware if the other would accept it. He hoped, still, that his company was enough to hearten the other. He remained quiet, waiting until Masaki’s voice would come again. In the meantime, he felt useless. Regretting every word he had said and what he hadn’t. But there was no use on giving or taking blame. The wound was done.
Aiba sniffed a last time before regaining composure. Having dried enough tears, he found the strength to direct himself to Jun, but he found he had no courage to address what had happened, for it would only trigger his anguish again.
“I was meaning… to return it to you,” Masaki spoke of the handkerchief instead, allowing Jun to confirm his initial assumption that he had kept it all this time. “I guess… I just ruined it again. Stupid…”
Jun didn’t reply and remained patient for him to speak. But there was still an uneasiness to Aiba’s words that would only make his lower lip tremble again.
“You shouldn’t have done it…” Masaki’s voice shook. “… It was wrong to talk back at him-”
“I wanted to.” Jun answered.
“It was wrong… It was my mistake… you should have stayed out of it. You knew you would only get in trouble, so why… why did you-”
“Aiba…” Jun’s voice called him softly, and after the older denied looking at him, Jun’s hand lifted Masaki’s face gently, taking Masaki in his gaze. Masaki’s teary eyes stared back at him, reflecting that same frightened feeling Sakurai had provoked in them. It broke Jun’s heart to feel his body so shaken. “There is nothing I wouldn’t have done for you,” Jun’s thumb wiped away Masaki’s streaming tears, ceasing his quivering and calming his body. “You don’t need to hide from me.” Jun said, kindly and tenderly, before leaning in and stealing his lips in a kiss.
Masaki had barely come to his senses in feeling Jun so close and perceiving the sensation of his lips brushing against his own. Perhaps it was the suddenness of his act that had paralyzed Aiba from responding, unable to take in his touch. His mind traveled back and forth, wishing he could stop thinking completely, wanting to give in, close his eyes and lose himself in Jun’s affection. But deep down, something warned him, a confusion that brought new tears into Masaki’s eyes as he fought the urge. And he knew he would never forgive himself for it.
“Jun…” Masaki slightly pulled back before the other was searching for his lips again, asking for his taste once more. Masaki repeated his name, obstructed by a kiss that soon became demanding the more Masaki called him breathlessly. Eventually, Aiba found the strength to push him away, as it was the only way he would allow him to regain himself. Jun was immediately puzzled with Aiba’s response, beginning to wonder if he’d done something wrong.
Aiba’s eyes looked everywhere except at Jun, who waited for an answer to his open confession, but was unable to read it in Aiba’s actions.
Masaki hesitated, afraid he’d lost his words, his throat becoming dry once again. “I-I’m… sorry.” It was all he could utter, unable to stop the tears that pooled under his eyes. When his gaze finally raised to meet with Jun’s again it was already too late. “I’m so sorry,” Aiba got up at once and walked away as quickly as he possibly could towards the emergency staircase. Jun made no effort to follow him this time. He’d lost all ability to do so. Left with an answer that had made him feel most neglected, he heard the door shut down the hall.
~
When Nino raised his sight to greet the next costumer in line and found Aiba in a state of devastation, his reaction was immediate. Ninomiya abandoned the bar and without prior question, he rushed to find a private place for the two of them. Luckily the terrace of the company was empty of prying eyes and it offered Aiba a change of scenery to take a break from a most agitating day. After the older had explained between sobs and tears, it seemed like his crying had been expended for the day. They both sat in silence watching as the sun settled down along with them.
“This is it, isn’t it?” Nino suddenly asked. “If you go back in there, you’ll get fired?”
“Tomorrow,” Aiba stared distractedly at his feet. “In the morning, for sure…”
“Why wait for tomorrow if he can just get it over with now? He wouldn’t even have to deal with seeing you another day.”
“It’s always in the morning,” Aiba added. “He likes to see if we would even bother to come in. Besides, it would give us a lot more trouble going through all the effort to arrive in the first place.”
Nino scoffed, admitting he was surprised just how far that man would go. At least Aiba’s dismissal would mean he no longer had to deal with the likes of Sakurai ever again.
Nino looked at his friend. Aiba had no desire, or even the courage to go back inside, but there was still a lot more he wondered of what he’d told him, and most was left unclear.
“What are you going to do now?”
Aiba sighed. “I’m not sure… If I don’t pay rent in the next few months, I guess I’ll have to go back to my parents’.”
“Is it really necessary? You know there is enough space at my place,”
“I wouldn’t stand bothering you, Nino. You know that…” Aiba argued. Nonetheless, the barista had all the reasons to fight him, but he knew it was not the right time to try and change his mind.
“Then… you’re actually leaving?” Nino asked in a last effort. Masaki’s response was hidden in a sympathetic smile that gradually turned gloom. “Why couldn’t you just blame that other guy? He deserved it anyway.” Nino disputed.
“And make Sakurai fire him instead? Is that what you really think I should have done?” Aiba shook his head. “Ikuta would’ve hated me for life, not to mention everyone else would start to spread rumors of me again, saying I’m fawning on the director. I knew he wasn’t going to come forward. I had to do something. Besides… Sakurai threatened us with an email inspection. If they were to find those emails from Anon… who knows what other trouble I would have gotten into.”
“So, in the end… you were just protecting him?” Ninomiya asked. When Masaki didn’t give him an answer, he understood.
Both stared at the view of the dim lit city. A cold air began to blow but neither of them complained, wishing those minutes would only last a little longer.
“I can’t believe you ran away. From Jun, I mean,” Nino commented. “It couldn’t be more obvious now that you know he is Anon. But… I’m still confused as of why you chose to reject him. Was it not what you wanted?”
“It’s not him.” Aiba said, gaining a frown from Ninomiya. “It’s not Jun.”
“You’re sure about that?” Nino was unconvinced.
Aiba nodded slowly, not a doubt in his mind. “It is not the same… the way he kissed me. It wasn’t like Anon. It was… so much different. Like it had a whole different meaning. Like a new flavor. I could never mix the two. The way he held me… and what he wanted when he did it, it meant so much more… It was not him. He felt nothing like Anon.”
“… What?”
Aiba was about to explain when he found the other staring at him with great perplexity. Aiba had not caught up to his reaction before he realized what he’d said himself, gasping and quickly covering his mouth, too late to take back what he’d said.
Ninomiya’s expression transformed into disbelief, seeing the state of the other. “No…” Nino denied. “Aiba… you didn’t,”
There was no use in lying. Aiba fell into admittance, his face hiding in his hand.
“Aiba, you didn’t!” Nino exclaimed.
“I’m sorry! I really am! Please don’t freak out-”
“Are you insane!? Freak out is an understatement! What the hell were you thinking!?” Nino’s voice rose again.
“Please, Nino! You promised! You said you would understand!” Aiba begged, trying to make the other’s agitation wind down.
Nino was about to say something before Masaki attacked him with a pleading look making him realize the things he’d say before and which he intended to keep no matter what. With great indignation, he let it go and allowed Aiba to explain.
“It was with my total consent, I swear! It was all my crazy idea! It’s just that… he’d paid for this amazing dinner and I... And I asked to meet him, I really tried, but he wouldn’t let me unless… I closed my eyes. Next thing I know it just… happened! And… I let him.” Aiba sighed. “What else can I say?”
Nino said nothing, reducing himself to accept all Aiba told him and holding back all the thoughts that came through his head. He looked at Aiba with a defeated look. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Bear with me a little more. I promise it won’t be long.”
“How much long are we talking about?”
Aiba thought for a second before he’d made up his mind. “If it’s not now… it’s over.”
~
‘Is this silence because of me?’
‘Because I startled you that time at
my apartment?’
‘If it is… I owe you an apology.’
‘I shouldn’t have cornered you as I did. I realize
now I pushed too far. You were only trying to help me
but I took advantage of your kindness in the meanest way.
I’m sorry…’
‘Regardless of what you may think, I’m not mad at you.
Or at least I know I don’t want to be, because it would
mean I would lose you. And I don’t want you to turn
away from me as well.’
‘There are not enough words to express what I’ve felt today…
and I don’t know who to turn to now.’
‘I need you more than ever, Anon.’
‘Please…’
‘Are you sure it’s me who you need?’
‘You’re the only Anon I know.’
‘You might be confusing me with someone
else then.’
‘Someone else?’
‘What do you mean? I don’t understand.’
‘But you’re right. It’s my fault. You wouldn’t know
the difference anyway.’
‘What is going on?’
‘I’ve asked you once and you admitted it before,
so I shouldn’t be surprised now.’
‘Although, I can’t say I didn’t feel anything at all.
Rather… you texting me just now is only making
it harder on me not to think about it.’
‘But what is there to think about if I’d always noticed
and I didn’t do a damn thing. Maybe it was me who
was wrong.’
‘I was only in the way.’
‘Anon, are you okay?’
‘To be honest, I don’t know what I am to you
anymore.’
‘What happened?’
‘Tell me, please. I want to understand you.’
‘I don’t know how.’
‘I’ve ran out of ideas and this has always
been a bad one to begin with.’
‘Anon…’
‘I don’t know what to say…’
‘I’m mad.’
‘Furious. At myself, most of all.’
‘…’
‘Why did you say you liked me? You didn’t mean it,
didn’t you?’
‘Why would you lie that way? When you can’t even
tell the difference.’
‘Difference? Of what?’
‘Of me.’
‘Of what you wanted so much to know.’
‘When you kissed me, were you thinking of me at all?’
‘What are you saying? Who else would I be thinking of?’
‘You should know.’
‘You seem to have quite a lead on it, don’t you?’
‘You saw…’
‘Jun and I?’
‘...’
‘You were there?’
‘But we were alone…’
‘Anon you followed us?’
‘You spied on us?’
‘Is that what matters to you the most?’
‘It matters to me if I ever made you think that I
wanted you to be following me.’
‘I get it. Because you have your own things to hide, no?’
‘Because I thought I could trust you.’
‘You’re right. I’m the only one wrong here.
And the moment I turn around from you, you
already forgot about me.’
‘You’re wrong, Anon.’
‘I didn’t ask for Jun to kiss me.’
‘But that wasn’t enough to make you complain, was it?’
‘All those times you ran along with him… is that what
you were doing? Is that why he never leaves your side?’
‘You’re taking this out of context.
We are not together!’
‘He doesn’t deprive you from anything physical,
so it’s easier, no?’
‘Anon, please stop! You’re misunderstanding everything! I
get you’re upset, but that doesn’t give you
any right to accuse me this way.’
‘Jun is my friend, nothing more! He came to my side because
I was hurt, because he cared about me and wanted to console me.
It is not my fault that you didn’t get there any sooner
and didn’t console me yourself.’
‘Hell, if I ever knew that getting myself into such a
humiliating position would make you come around to help me,
I wouldn’t have asked to meet you at all. I was crushed,
Anon, why can’t you understand that? I only needed a friend
to tell me I was going to be okay, to make me forget
of what had happened. And I wish it would have been you…
Gosh you don’t know how much I wish you would
have helped me. But you didn’t.’
‘You took your time and you hid and you coward away only
to come back and accuse me of betraying you? Where were you?
When I had to stand there and take those insults on my own?
What was so much important that you had to hide from me again?’
‘You thought I was him.’
‘And if I did?’
‘Was I not allowed to? Was that another one of your conditions?
You didn’t really give me much of a choice,
when all I can do is guess about you.’
‘Because only you can have me, and only you can follow me around
and know where I go or who I talk to or when I get in trouble.
Because only you can kiss me, right?’
‘And only you can have secrets.’
‘What position are you to be so envious, when you
didn’t even want me to find you in the first place? How can
you say those things when everything I’ve ever done was
trust you? When you don’t even let me understand you
and all you’ve ever done is make yourself invisible?’
‘It gives you no right, Anon.’
‘You don’t possess me.’
‘I was right after all. You didn’t like me. You said it
yourself, it was only but the thought of me what
you liked.’
‘Even when it was just the thought of you,
that was all you ever gave me.’
‘You’re going to deny me that too?’
‘…’
‘I rejected him.’
‘Because of you… I broke my friend’s heart.’
‘Is that really not enough for you?’
‘…’
‘How much longer were you expecting me to keep
waiting for you?’
‘Be honest.’
‘I told you, I was not ready.’
‘I don’t think there’s such a thing as being ready.
What you really need is to be brave.’
‘Have you tried that in the least?’
‘…’
‘Then… I’m sorry I’ve made you so weak.’
‘I can’t do this anymore.’
‘Masaki, wait.’
‘And if it is you that is holding me back,
what am I supposed to do?’
‘If it’s you I don’t want to hurt?’
‘Tell me, what should I do?’
‘Masaki…’
‘…’
‘Please, answer.’
‘Please…’
That night, Aiba silenced the chat with Anon, ceasing the reception of notifications even as the latter kept texting him. It was the closest alternative he’d found besides blocking Anon’s number or deleting his contacts.
~
Aiba never thought he would see a day he’d regret waking up to this much. It was bad enough that he had to follow his morning routine before work just to expect his dismissal noticed on top of his desk when he arrived. Yet halfway through getting ready Aiba couldn’t help but wonder what it would finally be like to free himself of that very suffocating office. Soon enough, a new feeling took over him.
By the end of the day, he would be released of all he’d once come to detest. No more being late or sending emails or redacting papers or filing or directors. That thought alone helped Aiba get through his morning preparations and on his way to work, he was guided by a feeling that maybe things weren’t going to be as terrible after all.
It seemed like any other ordinary day when he arrived at the company, entering the building as if it were the last time he would perceive himself as if he was part of it. It was a sensation much like the first time he’d come there for his job interview. That day he’d thought he would never walk through those doors again, yet there he was 5 years later, a professional. After all, it didn’t seem like he’d done so bad.
The office was not much different from that first day of work either. Most of the people he’d started with where also still there, some had come and gone over the years, but it wasn’t until Kazama’s dismissal that he’d felt on a brink after such a long time. He wondered if it would sadden his friend to know he would be joining him soon—or at least, sooner than expected.
His floor was rather silent that morning, as if this day were to be the kind that passed slowly. There was no sign of the director or the secretary (or Jun) anywhere near, so he was more than confident to walk to his desk, ready to face whatever waited for him there. It was much to his confusion when he found his things intact. There was no folded paper laying on his keyboard or sitting on his chair. He thought it strange but perhaps the director had not come in yet that morning to deliver it to him himself.
He sat down and made himself busy, but this time he thought of the things he would leave unfinished, possibly to be assigned to someone else. He hoped at least that it would hearten them to know all the hard work had already been done.
Masaki felt the chair next to him being pulled out, becoming paralyzed when he felt Jun right next to him. This would be the usual time when he would share his “good morning” with him, but he doubted Jun would even want to hear from him today. The younger sat quietly as to not bring himself any attention, avoiding any sort of contact with the one to his side.
He is angry, Aiba thought and suddenly remembered it was not going to be an easy day after all. His silence was unbearable, the awkwardness between them even worse. It was of no help when he couldn’t even escape from him by using his phone, since it had been turned off upon his arrival to the office to drive away distractions. He wondered if he would ever be able to feel calm again, but he was proven wrong yet again when the director presented himself in the room.
Sakurai and Ohno walked through the office, ignoring everyone’s greetings, as they accustomed to each morning, and locking themselves away in Sakurai’s office without further ado. Masaki wondered if the next time they came out they would be making a stop at his desk. The thought alone made him anxious and trying to focus on anything else was not going to be an easy task. Not even half an hour into his day, Aiba already wanted to go home.
~
“May I have a word with you?” The time had come for Ohno to call him. It was much later than expected, considering it was almost noon and he hadn’t heard a single word from the director, but now, he thought, they’d finally made up their mind to end his torture.
Aiba obeyed and followed Ohno through the office to the end of the hall, the eyes beginning to weight on him. Ohno showed him through the door to the director’s office before he quickly shut it behind them. Aiba stood in the middle of the room in silence. Yet again this time, the office was empty.
“I hope it’s not too sudden, but I needed to speak with you in private,” Ohno began. “It’s about what happened yesterday,” Aiba expected no less although it was unknown to him why Ohno would address him in Sakurai’s stead. “It should be no news to you how angry the director was with all of this, but I don’t know if his shock will be greater to know that you’d lied to him. Would you explain to me what happened?”
Aiba was unarmed, looking at the other with great surprise, expecting him to be the last to have seen through him. “You knew…?”
“Aiba, I’m the one in charge of assigning all those projects. What makes you think I wouldn’t have known?”
Aiba bowed his head slightly. “I’m sorry…”
“Did Ikuta ask for you to take care of it? Is that why you didn’t want to tell the director?”
“I… didn’t wanted it to seem as if I were attacking Ikuta.”
Ohno sighed. “I understand your concern, but it was very unprofessional to take another’s blame like that. You should have said something sooner.”
“Then, I should have blamed Ikuta after all, since he was not going to come forward? I should have accused him first, was that the right thing to do? I was still going to get blamed once they’ve found I took care of that work.”
“At some range, since it was not your responsibility to carry out in the first place. In any case, it would still be wrong that you would keep his guilt quiet. Don’t you understand the degree of all this? The director is furious! You’re making it hard on me to understand why you would even go through that trouble. And I’m surprised to find you don’t have much of a reason either.”
“You’re saying it’ll be worse?” asked Aiba. “Because I lied to him and took credit for that work?”
“That would be up for the director to decide.”
“So, I might get fired after all…” Aiba said in a lower tone.
Ohno got closer to the younger in perceiving his grief. “I can’t say anything definite but… the director is terribly busy right now. If anything, it won’t be today.” His words made Masaki raise his sight once again. “The way you handled everything on your own was still wrong, hence a penalty might not be unusual. But I won’t speak for Sakurai. This is only but a warning from me. In the meantime, I advise you to focus on your own pending matters. Is that understood?”
Aiba nodded and bowed to the secretary with his approval. After the warning had already been given, Ohno invited Aiba to go back to his desk, but he didn’t go before asking Ohno a last question.
“Will you tell him the truth after all?”
“What good will it do if I don’t?” Ohno responded.
Aiba understood and returned to work. Ohno’s last words echoed in Masaki’s conscience longer than expected. If only Anon would hear them, maybe he would have a reason to not give up on him entirely.
~
Aiba went straight home after work that day. Nino had already warned he would be busy that night so Aiba had no reason to wander around without a good excuse. He ate, bathed, and drank before deciding to sit on his bed. Sleep had yet to kick in when he decided to take his phone and play with it for a while. Inevitably, his attention was fixed on the chat titled Anonymous. Anon’s last messages were still without a response, laying on the bottom of the screen.
He scrolled up through the conversation that had developed into their fight. He didn’t know what to think of it still. Why had Anon turned on him such way? It was rude, aggressive, and unmediated. Almost like a whole different person. Someone who was far from the kind, gentle and caring Anon whom Aiba had allowed to kiss him.
To scroll away from it, Aiba found an item that he’d never considered to be of much importance until that moment. With a single tap, his phone displayed the contact’s information, in which this case had nothing more than Anon’s phone number. Just another odd combination and codes that didn’t particularly say anything.
Nino was fast to predict Jun couldn’t have been Anon after he gave Aiba his phone number, but the possibility of Anon’s insistence and premeditations was a reality Aiba did not want to dispose right away. Such a significant thing made him acknowledge that which he’d overseen. It was an incredible lead he’d kept right from the start. The first thing Anon ever gave him and he only but used half of its purpose. He wondered if it would be of some use now.
He pondered on it, trying to think of a reason to take the risk, but it was the last thing he had, the only alternative he could rely on now. If this didn’t work, he would accept he had lost him. If not… then there was only one way of knowing.
Masaki dialed the number on his screen and pressed the phone to his ear hesitantly. His heart beat raced when the ringing went off, each time almost taking longer than the last. It rang, and kept ringing, Masaki had forgotten to count how many times. When it came to a stop, Masaki froze, trying to come up with his first words before he realized the call had been missed.
He exhaled, as if he’d been holding his breath all that time. His heart still didn’t seem to calm down. But he was not going to leave things this way. Masaki dialed the number one more time. This time, he took a sharp exhale before pressing it to his ear, the ringing already going off. It rang and rang and rang and stopped.
Masaki signed completely defeated. At least now he had a clear answer. He was about to set his phone down when he noticed the timer on his phone screen counting seconds. The call had gone through. Suddenly he panicked before putting the phone to his ear again and listening closely for any sudden sounds.
“A-Anon?” Masaki called out through the line. There was a deep silence from the other side, but he was almost certain it was not empty. “Can you hear me? … Can I know if you’re there?” Masaki asked.
His request was soon granted when he heard the dialing of a single number as a response. He was there.
“I didn’t think you would answer. I… didn’t know how else to approach you.” The silence from the other gave way for Masaki to speak uninterruptedly, which was exactly all he asked from him. “I’m sorry I ignored you. I couldn’t bare… what you said to me. That was not you. I refuse to think so… I just wanted you to realize that.”
“It hasn’t been long since then, but… it’s almost as if I’ve forgot what it was like to have a normal day when I didn’t have to text you. And… it’s been the longest day…” Masaki’s voice cut off, preventing his voice from breaking so soon into their talk. He still had so much to say. “I’m afraid…” He sobbed. “I don’t want to be lied to. And even less by you. I want to… talk to you again… without a worry… ask you stupid questions… listen to you all night… forget to sleep. I want you to make me laugh again… if just… … If I would know how to convince you… If I could say that I like you… without a doubt… maybe… Would you let me know?”
Tears burned in his cheeks the longer the silence continued through the line. “You won’t say anything?... You would make me believe I’m crazy, again? You will hide… always? Is that what you’ve decided? Then… If it is what you want… I’ve also made my decision… to give you a last chance.”
Masaki dried his tears, composing his voice to make himself clear. “I want to meet with you… tomorrow at the terrace after office hours. I’ll wait there all night if I must, so you will have no excuse. You will either stop running away and come and meet me or… you will stay as you are and you would have lost me as a friend as well. You have nothing to lose. After tomorrow… I won’t try to look for you again. After that… it’s over. But if I see you there… I will give you an answer to which you’ve been asking to hear for so long. And I will know… if it was truly worth the trouble loving you. That is all I ever wanted to know.”
“Would you let me know… that you at least understand what I’m trying to do?” Masaki gave way for his answer. His pause took longer than expected, but the sound of a dial still came. “Then… I will expect your answer tomorrow if I see you there. Until then… and if you decide not to… I will it say it now… Good bye, Anon.”
Masaki hung up immediately and he could breathe again, the tears that he’d been hanging on to already subsided. He placed his phone down and laid on his bed soon to be taken by sleep after all his energy had been spent. He hoped the other had listened to him until the very end.
~
It was only a couple of minutes past noon and Aiba decided to spend his lunch break sitting across Nino at a table at the café. Neither of them did much lunching. Aiba was too worried time would fly if he didn’t stare at his watch and Nino only observed him with concern.
“You’re nervous,” said Nino. “And very anxious. You need to take it easy on yourself. There’s still half a day to go through.”
“Then I’ll be anxious for another half day.” Aiba answered, constantly reviving his phone screen to look at the time when a minute had barely past since the last time he checked.
“You really think he’ll show up?”
“I don’t know… But what was I supposed to do?” Aiba fixed on Nino.
“I wouldn’t have called him to start with. If you knew you wouldn’t get an answer out of him, why did you bother to insist? It’s just…” Nino crossed his arms over his chest, his shoulders slumping with a sign. “Forget about him. He is not worth the trouble, believe me…”
“I didn’t expect him to answer me, I wanted him to listen. I wanted him to know this was the last thing I would do for him.”
“You’re still insisting. That’s the real problem here. And honestly… I don’t think this guy even wants to be found.”
“I didn’t want to leave him like that, Nino. Not when I was so close,”
“You can’t treat this like a break up, Aiba. This isn’t one.”
“I know…”
“Then what gives?” Nino asked exhaustedly. Aiba had no argument to dispute him, but he was not willing to change his mind now. It was too late to convince him otherwise.
“I will finish with this tonight,” said Aiba.
“And if he tricks you? What if this is just another stupid lie to make a fool out of you?”
Masaki wouldn’t have expected to find these kinds of concerns in Ninomiya today. His persistence made it all more difficult for Aiba to understand what Nino was against.
“I’m not taking back my word.” Aiba said, finally, but Nino appeared to have lost interest. There was a strange look in his eyes as he refused to look at Aiba. He was not pleased. If anything, Aiba’s words had only stirred his anger. “Nino…?” Aiba called him with worry, trying to look for his gaze with little success. “Are you okay?”
Nino inhaled and exhaled vulgarly as he rubbed on his temples. Aiba could barely follow what was going on, but he perceived he was trying to put his best face regardless of all.
“How’s Jun?” Nino changed the subject without further comment.
Aiba followed, although confused. “Still pretending I don’t exist. I tried speaking with him today. He left his desk right away as if he didn’t hear me. It’s almost like… I can’t recognize him anymore.”
“What a jerk…” Nino said under his breath. “He can’t take a single ‘no’.”
“What are you saying? He isn’t a jerk,” Aiba argued him. “I was the one who broke his heart. I’m the only bad guy here. I can’t blame him. I would probably hate myself as much too. In fact… I haven’t forgiven myself ever since.” Aiba fell back on his chair with a sigh. “Guess It’ll be a worry less once I’m out of here.” Aiba closed his eyes and he leaned his head back, trying to quiet down the unsettlement in his head. Meanwhile Nino eyed him from across the table painfully, unable to understand what his friend was going through, but having an idea that could compare.
When the time came to return to the office, Aiba advised Nino to leave without him that day. He didn’t want to delay him, as he was possibly going to take longer than expected, that is, if everything worked accordingly. Nino listened, and with a last farewell, he returned to work with his head hanging low.
The afternoon outside the office windows became dimmer, showing an early night that began to creep in. While most of his colleges had left, Aiba worked for as late as he could. Jun’s desk remained empty by now as he’d gone out early again today and it gave Aiba the opportunity to work more freely, without tension creeping up his back every time he looked Jun’s way.
It was becoming late and Aiba accepted he’d delay himself enough, and with great patience, but with an inpatient heart, he put away his things, shut down his desktop and proceeded to the elevator, pressing a floor number far higher than the lobby.
The terrace was solitary as he’d imagined. It began to feel chilly outside, so he braced on to his coat and sat by a lone bench that faced the nearest entrance. From there, he watched everyone that came around, people that weren’t from his floor or people he never remembered seeing before. Janitors, groups from all sorts of departments, groups from the higher offices, all came and went to take some fresh air, take a smoke or chat. None of them catching Aiba’s attention.
Masaki had to switch sides of his bench, making his back face the entrance to lessen the distant chatter that’d began to annoy him. He couldn’t bare listen to anyone right now. He’d only wanted time to pass quickly so he could get his answer, but considering it was only growing colder the darker it got, he admitted having made a mistake to agree to stay there all night.
~
It was only but a glimpse of a starry night sky he saw before he felt a first drop of rain fall on his head. When it began to increase, he hid away his phone into his pocket, refusing to leave his spot. It didn’t rain heavily, only but a drizzle. He didn’t mind his hair getting wet and continued to look out at the night view. It was a sight that only made him fall in love with that city all over again, reminding him of why he’d decided to come there in the first place.
He wondered what his past self would think of him now, doing something so stupid as to give his complete trust in someone that did nothing but let him down yet and yet again. But he didn’t want to despair, not even after 2 hours had passed without a sign of anyone coming his way. He regretted to not tell him to let him know if he would be waiting in vain after all. Yet his not mentioning anything must have been a good sign.
When the rain quieted down, he returned to take out his phone. His fingers felt the device before opening their chat. He’d read amusedly, trying to remember what he was thinking of when he came up with the ridiculous questions he’d made him answer. Soon, he was entertained with the thought of asking him more. New questions he wished he would’ve come up with sooner. Better questions, longer ones. If only he would receive a new message from him. Like the kind he wrote when he was bored and wanted to waste time with Masaki. The type that would never fail to make Masaki smile to himself and would let him imagine his voice speaking to him directly.
He realized he missed that voice, even when it told him lies, or made fun of him, he still missed it more than anything. He couldn’t bare but let it end as if it all had been worthless, because he still believed it wasn’t.
He didn’t mistake it, the moment he heard the door behind him open. There was no one else there to come, it had been emptied hours ago. Still he refused to think whoever it was were coming his direction. He kept facing away from the door, deciding to ignore his panic, and brushing it off as an overreaction. Not even when he heard a pair of footsteps approaching, becoming louder against the wet floor.
This time, his attention fixed on it, on his steps that were still too far for him to dare look back and he cursed himself. He damned himself for being the weak one this time, for feeling his legs shaking at that moment, for not feeling able to stand and look. Even though he was there. Even though he waited for him to.
His heart pounded against his chest hurtfully, it was telling him it was his turn. He wanted it to quiet down, but its agitation persisted. Aiba didn’t know what to do next as he hadn’t thought this far ahead. And he started feeling sick. Sick of himself, sick of his hesitations, sick of his excuses. With a sharp intake of air, Masaki got on his feet and looked at the door towards the figure that stood behind him.
Even under the dim light of their surroundings, it was a figure he couldn’t mistake for anyone else. So much he’d seen it, it was engraved in his mind to all its extent. And Masaki felt his heart stop.
Masaki’s look transformed right before his eyes, from confusion, to recognition, to denial. He saw it all in Masaki, and he expected no less.
Masaki’s mouth opened, about to voice the million thoughts crossing his mind at once when he noticed the redness in the other’s eyes and the stream of tears he could see from a mile away. And Masaki’s confusion returned, leaving him agape, without explanations. It made no sense. It gave him no answer. He must have been wrong.
“Nino…?” Masaki called as the other made no effort to answer. His eyes kept tearing the more he stared at the older. “What are you doing here?”
A/N: Chapter 8 ends with a shocking reveal! What does this mean with what we've seen so far? Will this be the last we hear of Anon? This could mean a big confession next chapter. I'll see you then! Thanks for reading~!