Work Text:
At first, I tried to go out during the day like I always did, and burned the back of my hand where I exposed it to the sun.
By evening, it had healed.
Next, even the brightness through a thin curtain began to make my cheek sting.
I couldn’t help laughing.
For something like that to have earned the right to hurt me, too.
At least afterward, I should have felt something running down my cheek.
But before long,
Daytime.
For pushing myself just a little.
For touching some small joy.
For rousing myself.
—For nothing more than breathing.
I began sleeping beside nausea at night,
and that took care of everything.
It’s nonsense to complain about a gift, but.
Lately,
even the pain is recycled now.
And for the first time in my life, I almost began to imagine such a thing as my own limit…
For the first time in my life, from my side alone,
I needed someone.
Jesus…
No.
Whoever you are.
Thank you for the unnecessary consideration.
Anyone would have been fine...
How nostalgic.
That gloomy, self-styled-sinner look of yours.
That crease between your brows.
Whether you sleep, or smile, or die…
something that should never be lost from you.
After all, it wouldn’t suit me.
And on the other hand, you’re the one who wears it best.
So I suppose it has to stay with you.
“…Good evening. You really do get used to this heat, don’t you.”
I open the door as quickly as I can and greet you as though we’re simply picking up where we left off last week.
That tired, faded green doesn’t seem to have any particular objection as it pins me—
—and already, something like that is enough to prod at my cheeks.
…Unfortunately, it hadn’t been unnecessary consideration.
What I had needed
wasn’t just anyone.
“Got any stories from your travels today?
That was quite a long trip.
Did you find yourself out there?”
No particular hurry,
but I usher you straight into the living room.
We decide to sit side by side on the sofa.
At an angle that takes a little effort to meet each other’s eyes—
more importantly, because it lets me sit closest to you.
Using our long-awaited reunion as an excuse, I sit pressed right up against you without restraint.
I couldn’t tell whether the warmth I felt was body heat or just the abnormal temperature outside—
but I was glad it wasn’t cold.
Before I know it, my gaze slides along your profile.
And I find a faint crease along your tear trough.
Ah.
This, too, should never be lost.
I’ve just started looking for the next wrinkle when you finally speak.
“…Something like that.
Might even be a funny story, unusually enough for you.”
Oh.
Interesting.
You must’ve really worked yourself into a state.
“No wonder you look even gloomier than usual.”
“…I’m the least familiar with my own expression. Sorry.”
Poor thing.
So it was a solo trip after all.
“No, no. Don’t worry about it.
You’re… kind of like a grassland at night. I don’t dislike it.”
I drag the memory back up and assemble it as vividly as I can.
The grassland—the one thing in that whole stretch that has, just barely, any will to live.
“Sorry, but daytime does absolutely nothing for me.
Not being able to see much is important.
When the wind blows, all you hear is that soft rustling.”
You say you don’t have many good memories of it, though.
“…So there is such a thing?
You having something to tell me.”
I become aware that my gaze has fallen at some point, but for now, I deliberately don’t offer it back to you.
“But first, why don’t we reminisce a little?
I’ve been unbelievably bored this whole time.”
I pause for effect, then continue.
“I haven’t talked to anyone in a long time.
…Since you disappeared.”
Right.
No matter how hard the wind blows, you never so much as flinch, so sometimes I can’t help wanting to blow at you harder on purpose.
“If you pity me even a little,
can I go first?”
A grassland won’t necessarily stay in the same place forever, either.
And yet,
the one that passes through
is always the wind,
never the grass.
There was that old glass you always let me use whenever I drank at your place.
The top was molded with vertical fluting, and the lower half had a fine cross-cut pattern.
The upper part of the stem was just a little thicker.
Apparently they used to be popular.
There was something similar at my grandmother’s house, too.
The children’s glasses were plain, so every time the relatives gathered, I used to whine that I wanted to use that one.
—Then, that day, I suddenly realized.
I’d thought they matched.
But the one you used was a much plainer glass, with nothing but a simple cut near the bottom.
That was the first time I ever fought with myself.
I lift my gaze again.
Just for that—
“You don’t really get it, do you?
Neither do I.
Because,
normally, I would’ve at least verified it first.
I’d have looked in that wall cabinet to see if there was only one glass.
Offered to get things ready for once,
then tried doing the same thing to you.
…More than anything,”
I slowly lift my gaze,
and deliver the last part with particular care.
“…I would’ve come to see you again right away,
just to make sure it hadn’t only happened that one day.”
The green is still fixed on me.
But,
a moment later,
it lowers.
“…Sorry.”
I follow suit.
Fiddling with the hem of my shirt, stretched completely out of shape,
I shrug.
“Because.
I’d heard that no matter what happened,
you’d always be there.”
I don’t remember
anything we talked about that day.
Except that I brushed off our plans for the following week
with some half-baked excuse.
But so what?
I went.
In the end.
It’s not like you ever have plans anyway.
“That was the idea, but…”
You weren’t there, were you.
Even when there was no answer to my knock,
I kept telling myself this was my last chance.
In place of the usual pain I’d forgotten,
all I could worry about was what I’d do if you wouldn’t let me in because of the way I looked.
I don’t know how long I clung to the porch.
“Within a few days of that, I already had all I could handle just dealing with myself.
I’ve always thought I was on the unlucky side, but…
That was arrogant of me.
Never thought it’d come to this.”
I nod in silence.
Mm-hm, I knew it.
Of course you didn’t have plans.
You never do.
You’ve always had rotten luck, and—
“…But to tell you the truth,
things aren’t half bad now.
It took everyone becoming miserable
for my luck to finally start turning around.
Really…
Great, isn’t it.”
…
“And you turning down those plans of ours,
well… looking back,
I suppose that worked out rather conveniently, too.”
…
Is that even fair?
Of course you haven’t changed.
That crease between your brows.
That faded green.
The shadows under your eyes.
If anything, you’re even grubbier than you were back then.
But…
The timing couldn’t be worse,
and yet here you are,
even cracking jokes.
Not bad?
You?
You mean…
you without me?
—That’s too much.
Ah, really.
Great.
You really are—
“You really are that field of weeds.
It’s nice enough just hearing it now and then,
but I’d rather die than live surrounded by that stuff.”
…Ah, shit.
That confused look on your face…
Shut up.
Get back in there.
Traitor.
This guy—
repeating the same worn-out jokes himself, killing my banter with his weird questions, not even capable of a polite little laugh…
A little special treatment from a guy like this—“maybe”?
What a worthless little poem to get carried away with.
Even a dog wouldn’t touch it.
—Thanks to that.
Butterflies in my stomach.
Warmth blooming in my chest.
I didn’t get any of that gentle treatment.
Instead, I was set on fire from the back of my neck,
tormented by that electric tingling around my jaw,
and somehow, at the same time,
I had to enjoy it.
How pathetic.
How embarrassing.
There wasn’t a single sweet,
delicious part to it.
I’ve always been good
at crying without anyone noticing,
but the truth is,
I’ve never once managed to hold it back.
I rather liked that about myself.
Still…
it seems this body hasn’t had to work this hard in quite some time.
My eye sockets simply ache.
At most, a single tear spilled over from emotion.
The rest were almost entirely physiological.
Boring…
In that case,
I’ll make you feel as bad as I can.
…
After a silence just short enough
not to make me too miserable,
you slowly reach inside your coat
without a word.
What you take out is—
—that glass with the chipped rim.
You set it quietly on the table.
As though handling it with care.
“…Actually, that’s what I came to explain.
This is your souvenir.
It really wasn’t funny after all.”
…
You begin again, slowly and quietly.
“It had already started the last day I saw you.
We always met at my place,
and as you know,
I didn’t go out much anyway,
so it wasn’t much of an inconvenience.”
I see.
So that’s what it was.
Your body just isn’t cold.
“I was thinking I’d make the next time the last, but by the beginning of the following week, I was already in no state to see you.
…I mean, it was a good thing I didn’t end up having to break our plans.
Sorry.”
That crease between your brows just hasn’t been lost.
“…I’m already a full-fledged Visitor.
Probably.”
…
I pick up the glass.
Mm.
The elegant fluting is ruined beyond recognition,
but most of the cross-cut pattern seems intact.
“…I believe you.”
“I’m glad it wasn’t just my imagination.”
Almost immediately,
I settle back down as close to you as I can.
“But…
so what?”
I pierce the green,
trying to see as far into it as I can.
I sense that shadow of confusion crossing you again.
“Your luck started turning around… right.
After all those days spent running away.
It really was far too late, wasn’t it.”
I lean into you,
letting my weight rest on my left thigh.
“And now you’re here.
How stubborn of you! Really.
…Everything I said earlier was a lie.
The truth is, I want to keep looking at you from close by.
The truth is,
anything I have,
anything at all.
I want to give it all to you…”
I quickly stamp out the ember that has started smoldering again,
and ask:
“So…
what exactly are you going to give me?”
The green follows slowly downward,
as though matching my breathing.
“You do show me something now and then.
Trying so hard.
Pushing yourself a little.
Something important.
But
everything you offer me…
has your blood soaked into it.”
One drop.
At last, blood begins to bead
from the rim of the glass lodged in your side.
“See?”
“And you expect me to be happy about this?”
And just like that,
I look away.
…
…
What did I get wrong this time?
About what I said earlier…
I thought, could a story really work out this perfectly?
I got carried away.
Right.
It isn’t that my luck started turning around.
At the end,
for once,
I took a gamble…
Ah.
I know.
Only after I’d truly been driven into a corner did I come out with, “I wouldn’t care even if I were stripped of everything.”
I know how that sounds.
Still,
for the first time,
I reached out.
—And you went along with it.
“…Sorry. That was certainly tactless of me.
But this is the only one that made it out intact…”
Tentatively,
I set down the one I’d used.
“That one just had the blood drained out of it, didn’t it.”
No good.
…After a moment’s thought, I simply liberate the two little bottles of liquor as well.
Looking at them like this,
I’m appalled by my own lack of finesse.
Every last one of them is from back then…
Why didn’t I bring something more ordinary?
With a mouth this clumsy,
I could at least have written a letter…
I’m at a loss.
—My brow furrows before I know it.
“…That,
I might want to see a little more closely.”
?
Unexpected.
I hold out a bottle.
“Wrong.”
You turn away.
Tentatively, I reach for the intact glass…
“Were you listening to me?”
“Ah…”
What the hell is this?
…
“…Will you come with me?”
“Cliché.”
“Sorry, but that’s everything I own.
If what you need is something I don’t have,
then let’s go find it together.
Soon enough, you’ll be able to go anywhere too.
You know that.”
“Boooring.”
“…What am I supposed to do?”
I don’t know.
“I have nothing more…”
Tell me.
Please.
This may be my last chance.
The more desperate I become,
the more absurdly vivid
one patch of the wood grain in the floor becomes.
“…Hey.
They ordered you to come here after all, didn’t they.”
…
…
I tear my gaze from the floor.
—A real smile.
Unlike back then,
even your eyes are smiling.
“A fresh start now that you’re a Visitor?
How foolish.
When in the end,
you still can’t do anything on your own.”
You pull your lower lip in so hard
that even the flesh above your upper lip plumps out.
That shape.
“You used to obey me.
That’s why things worked out.
Back then, I had enough material
for people to misunderstand me favorably.
A healthy complexion.
A well-proportioned body.
All I had to do was lift the corners of my mouth
and everyone trusted me.
No matter what I did,
people praised me for it.”
…
Misunderstand me favorably.
Is he serious?
He’s really having a "field" day with me.
…At a time like this.
What utter nonsense.
Grassland at night.
Grassland at night.
Good thing it was hard to see.
…Ah.
I see.
Could this be…
“Now I’ve got nothing.
I’ve gone this pale,
I’ve got more wrinkles.
My hair’s lost its body…
and I’ve put on a little weight.”
With that upward glance
people make when they know perfectly well they have the upper hand,
he flicks his eyes toward me.
“I was so scared
you’d be disappointed seeing me like this.
And instead you completely ignored me
and replaced me just like that.”
I’ll admit it.
He really has changed.
This wickedness.
This tyranny.
What he used to hide
wrapped in all that shadiness,
he now offers up of his own accord.
How…
delicious.
“Changed, have you?
I hadn’t noticed.”
That irritating little bulge immediately deflates.
Good.
All the more delicious.
“If anything, I recognize that face.
I used to miss it unless I was paying attention,
but you haven’t changed.”
Sharp eyes snap toward me at once.
Don’t talk bullshit.
And yet,
inside them…
something like expectation
keeps showing itself and disappearing.
“Hey.
Teach me too…
how to be brazen,
insist on having my own way,
and at the same time,
be merciful.”
This time,
I’m the one who presses against him without leaving a gap.
This might be the first time
I’ve ever won a staring contest with him.
Without restraint,
I examine the indistinct line of his jaw from up close.
“Well-proportioned…?
Ha. Sure.
I envy that talent of yours, too—
the way you can package anything so beautifully.
Right, right.
You used to be like a stuffed toy
packed tight with cotton.”
His mouth finally opens,
only to apparently forget how to close again.
“Now it looks like the cotton’s shifted around a little.
Think hanging you upside down to dry would fix it?”
With my left hand,
I grab the softened flesh of his stomach through his shirt.
He gives a small hop backward and slips away,
but I slowly take hold of it again.
I close the distance again too,
making sure it’s exactly the same as before.
“Trust?
Coming from you?
Did you think I didn’t know?
You already knew everything I kept on the shelves at my place.
You went through the bedroom drawers too, didn’t you?
…You really are something.”
I look at those infuriating lips,
finally reduced to being pressed quietly together.
It’s almost a shame to see all that thickness stretched out when he smiles.
Still there,
no matter how bloodless he gets.
…Good.
I cup his chin in my right hand
and press the sides of my fingers into the flesh beneath it.
And only after I call that dark brown back to me—
“You’re diabolical…
You always have been.
No one is better suited to being a Visitor.
For someone like me to tell you to come with me…
that was presumptuous.
So forget it.”
—certain it’s waiting there for me so patiently,
I take my time before finally meeting it.
“But if
you would listen sometimes…
if I’m worth that much,
then—”
“Yes! …Yes… I’m sorry.”
…
“With me—”
“Even as I am,
I’ve been waiting for you all this time.
Take me with you.
Please……”
I’m pulled into an embrace
before I’m even allowed to answer.
With his whole face rubbing against my whole face—
—I quietly make sure of this self of mine,
to whom he has been granted.
…
I did it.
Finally…
I really kept you waiting too long.
You.
Myself, too.
Ah.
I’d known it all along.
I need
this strange man.
—I simply do.