Chapter Text
The park was immersed in an almost unreal quiet. The leaves of the trees rustled softly, and the few passersby were too far away to disturb the silence that had settled between the two boys. They walked side by side, but the distance between them seemed wider than it actually was.
Hirose had his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, his gaze fixed on the dirt path ahead. The silence was heavy, laden with unspoken words. Every now and then he cast a furtive glance at Matsumura, who walked with his shoulders slightly hunched and his gaze lost in the void.
It was Matsumura who broke the silence, with a sigh that seemed to carry away all the weight of the previous evening.
"Hirose, I'm sorry about yesterday. I really didn't handle myself well."
Hirose almost sighed with relief upon hearing those words. At least he wasn't the only one feeling uncomfortable.
"Don't worry about it," he replied, trying to keep his tone light. "When you're drunk, you say nonsensical things." He paused, then added, with a hint of curiosity he tried to mask: "But can I ask you something? Why did you think I liked Nakamura?"
Matsumura lowered his gaze, as if the question had caught him off guard. He scratched the back of his neck, a gesture Hirose knew well, a nervous tic of his when he was embarrassed.
"Well... actually, he was the first person that came to mind when you said you'd liked a guy." He shrugged, as if to minimize it all. "Probably because you're such close friends. You seem... I don't know, more intimate than you are with others."
Hirose felt a knot in his stomach. He cursed himself inwardly. All that drama, that colossal hangover, that night spent at Nakamura's house... all because of a simple, innocent correlation on Matsumura's part.
"No, actually I was talking about someone else," Hirose said, in a tone he hoped was vague enough not to raise further questions. "Nakamura is like a brother to me. I could never like him in that way."
The lie came out spontaneously, almost defensively. He had no intention of explaining to Matsumura the complicated story of Professor Otogiri. He wasn't ready to reveal a chapter of his life he'd buried long ago, one that still seemed so intimate, confusing, and embarrassing.
Matsumura looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. He didn't insist. Perhaps he'd understood that Hirose didn't want to go deeper, or perhaps he was simply too tired to dig further.
He started talking about other things. About work, upcoming exams, the latest stupidities of Takeuchi who, after he and Nakamura had left, had vomited on a stranger and Mukai had had to drag out of the pub by force. Hirose listened, grateful for the distraction, and let himself be drawn into the conversation.
They walked through the park, following the path that wound between the trees. The air was crisp and clean, and Hirose's headache slowly began to fade. For a while, he almost managed to forget why he was there.
But then Matsumura stopped.
He turned toward him, and his expression had changed. The lightness of before was gone, replaced by a seriousness that made Hirose stop in his tracks.
“Did you really" Matsumura said, his voice lower, as if he were confiding a secret. "never noticed that I liked you?"
Hirose stood still. The question hit him like a punch to the stomach, stealing his breath.
"Matsumura, I..." he began, but the words got stuck in his throat.
"It's not a rhetorical question," Matsumura continued, taking a step toward him. "I really want to know. All that time... in middle school, in high school... you never noticed how I looked at you? How I always tried to be close to you?"
Hirose opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a word. The truth was that no, he'd never noticed. Or perhaps he hadn't wanted to notice.
"I don't know," he finally managed to say, his voice more uncertain than he wanted it to be. "I mean... maybe yes, in some way. But I never really thought about it. I'm sorry."
Matsumura looked at him with a mixture of sadness and resignation. Then, with a gesture that seemed to require an enormous effort, he looked away.
"It doesn't matter, don't feel guilty. I didn't tell you because I wanted an answer, but just to put a period on this story. Actually, for a while now, I've liked Nakamura," he said.
Hirose opened his mouth, but couldn't find the words. His mind was racing, trying to piece together a puzzle he'd never known he had to solve.
"Why didn't you ever tell me?" he finally asked, his voice trembling.
Matsumura shrugged, a gesture that tried to be light but hid a clear tension.
“We went a couple of times. Nothing special. A coffee, a walk." Matsumura scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. "We wrote to each other on Line, every now and then. And then... I don't know, He asked to see me. And I said yes."
Hirose felt a knot in his stomach.
"And besides he is your best friend it wouln’t be fair if i tell you that ,I didn't want you to... I don't know, feel embarrassed. Or think I was trying to steal your best friend."
Hirose fell silent, and they resumed walking toward the park exit. Matsumura was trying to start a conversation, but right now Hirose didn't feel like talking.
When they reached the car, Matsumura opened the door and turned to Hirose.
"I'll drive you back," he said.
The car ride was silent. Hirose was lost in his thoughts, while Matsumura kept his eyes fixed on the road. Everything Matsumura had told him swirled in his head like a hurricane. Matsumura knew where Nakamura lived. Nakamura had seemed so strange when he'd said he was going out with Matsumura.
What if... what if they were seeing each other and Matsumura did not want to be the one telling him ?The fact that Nakamura was gay wasn't a secret, and Matsumura was objectively a good-looking guy. There wouldn't be anything strange about it if the two were attracted to each other. But why wouldn't Nakamura have told him?
When they arrived in front of Nakamura's building, Matsumura turned off the engine and turned toward him.
"We're here," he said.
Hirose nodded, but didn't open the door. He sat there, staring at the building in front of him.
"Everything okay?" Matsumura asked.
Hirose nodded, then opened the door and got out of the car. He bent down to look at Matsumura through the window.
"Thank you," he said. "For everything."
"For what, Hirose? I'm glad we cleared things up. See you around."
Matsumura's car slowly drove away, disappearing around the corner of the street.
Hirose stood there, motionless on the sidewalk, looking at Nakamura's house. He reached the door. He took a deep breath, then knocked harder than necessary.
The door opened almost immediately. Nakamura was standing on the threshold, with a calm, almost relaxed expression. He was wearing a simple t-shirt and holding a glass of water.
"You're back," Nakamura said, in a neutral voice. "Everything okay?"
Hirose looked at him. That calmness, that tranquility, that face as if nothing had happened... it made his anger rise like a wave.
"Everything okay?" Hirose repeated, in a tone he couldn't keep from betraying his irritation. "Yes, everything's fine. Why wouldn't it be?"
Nakamura raised an eyebrow, confused. He closed the door and turned toward him, the glass still in his hand. "What's wrong?"
Hirose stopped in the middle of the living room and turned toward him. His eyes were full of anger and frustration.
"Matsumura knows where you live," Hirose said, enunciating the words clearly. "You went out together and when I told you I was going out with him, you changed."
Nakamura was silent for a moment. His expression was impassive, but Hirose noticed a slight tightening in his jaw.
"So?" Nakamura asked, in a calm voice. "What's strange about that?"
"What's strange about that?" Hirose repeated, raising his voice. "You never told me you were seeing each other."
Nakamura set the glass down on the table with a slow, controlled gesture. "We're not seeing each other, and even if we were, I wasn't obligated to tell you."
"Not obligated?" Hirose felt the anger rising inside him like a tide. "We've been best friends for four years, Nakamura. I tell you everything. Everything. And you don't tell me you're going out with Matsumura?"
Nakamura crossed his arms. His gaze had become harder, more defensive.
"Why did I have to tell you?" he asked, in a firmer voice. "If I go out with someone, I don't have to ask your permission."
"It's not about permission!" Hirose shouted, taking a step forward. "It's about trust! About honesty! I tell you everything, Nakamura. Everything. And you hide from me that you're going out with Matsumura?"
Nakamura looked at him. His eyes were dark, almost impenetrable.
"I didn't hide anything from you," he said, in a low voice. "I simply didn't tell you everything. Those are different things."
"They're not different things!" Hirose felt the frustration rising inside him like lava. "You're my best friend. You should be able to trust me. You should be able to tell me things. But no. Instead you prefer to keep me in the dark. You prefer to let me find things out from others."
Nakamura remained silent. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides.
"It's not like that," he murmured.
"Then how is it?" Hirose challenged him. "Explain it to me. Why didn't you tell me you were going out with Matsumura? Why did you pretend nothing was happening? Why, when I told you I was going out with him, did you seem so angry?"
Nakamura didn't answer. His eyes grew darker, but he didn't say a word.
"You see?" Hirose continued, with a bitter smile. "You don't tell me anything. As usual."
He turned and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" Nakamura asked, his voice suddenly tense.
"Home," Hirose replied, without turning around. "I don't feel like staying here. I don't feel like talking to someone who doesn't trust me enough to tell me things."
"You're not leaving this house until you tell me what Matsumura said to you."
Hirose heard Nakamura's voice behind him, low and threatening. He stopped and turned slowly.
"What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Nakamura was standing a few steps away from him. His eyes were dark, almost black. His jaw was tight, and now he was gripping Hirose's wrist—not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to keep him from taking a single step forward.
"You heard me," Nakamura said, in a low, firm voice.
Hirose looked at him, incredulous. "Are you joking?"
"I'm not joking."
"He didn't tell me anything. I connected the dots myself," Hirose replied, trying to stay calm. "Now let me go."
"Nothing?" Nakamura repeated, with a smile that wasn't a smile. "Then why did you come back so angry? Why are you accusing me of hiding things that don't exist?"
"Because that's what you did!" Hirose shouted. "Now let me go!"
But Nakamura didn't let him go. Instead, he tightened his grip hard enough that Hirose was sure he'd have a bruise.
"You're not going anywhere," Nakamura said, in a low, threatening voice. "Not until you tell me what Matsumura said to you."
Hirose felt his heart race. He'd never seen Nakamura like this. His eyes were wild, almost out of control. His anger seemed to have taken over him in a way Hirose had never seen before.
"Are you threatening me?" Hirose asked, his voice higher than he wanted.
"I'm not threatening you," Nakamura replied, but his voice was tense, almost hoarse. "I'm asking you to tell me the truth."
"And I already told you!" Hirose shouted. "Why don't you believe me?"
Nakamura looked at him. His eyes were full of a frustration that seemed to be consuming him from within.
"Because I know Matsumura told you something," he said. "I know it. And I want to know what."
"Don't you trust me?" Hirose asked, his voice lower now, almost a whisper. "I thought you were my best friend. Instead to you I'm just someone you can't trust."
"That's not it," Nakamura murmured, but his voice was uncertain.
"Then what?" Hirose insisted, trying to break free. "Let me go!"
But Nakamura didn't let him go. His grip was too strong. Hirose felt panic rising inside him as he struggled to free himself. Nakamura's eyes were fixed on his, full of a darkness Hirose had never seen before.
"Let me go!" Hirose shouted, thrashing.
And then, in a burst of frustration and fear, he reflexively raised his hand and realized too late that he was about to hit Nakamura in the face.
Hirose closed his eyes. He didn't want to see the face of his best friend as he received a slap.
He felt his hand stop in mid-air, his wrist was caught by Nakamura's grip. For a moment he stood still, breathless, eyes wide with surprise.
Nakamura looked at him. His eyes were still dark, but something in them had changed. A flash of something that looked like amusement, mixed with an irritation that hadn't yet faded.
"What were you trying to do, Hirose?" Nakamura asked, in a low voice but with a tone that couldn't hide a certain irony. "Were you trying to slap me?"
Hirose felt his face heat up. Anger and embarrassment mixed in an explosive cocktail.
"I don't know," he murmured, trying to free his wrists. "It was a reflex. Let me go."
"A reflex?" Nakamura repeated, with a smile that was a mix of amusement and challenge. "So your reflex is to slap me? I didn't know I was that annoying."
"You are," Hirose retorted, but his voice was uncertain. "Very annoying."
Nakamura chuckled, but didn't loosen his grip. Instead, he took a step forward, forcing Hirose to step back until his back hit the wall.
"And now?" Nakamura asked, in a low voice. "What reflex do you have now?"
Hirose felt his heart pounding. His back pressed against the wall, his wrists trapped, Nakamura's body so close he could feel his warmth.
"To headbutt you, but I think I'd hurt myself more than you."
Nakamura chuckled. His eyes were fixed on his, and there was something in that gaze that Hirose couldn't decipher.
"When you got together with Hana," Nakamura said, "you didn't tell me. I had to find out on my own."
Hirose's eyes widened. "What does Hana have to do with this?"
"It has to do with it," Nakamura insisted, in a tone that tried to be light but hid a subtle tension. "You told me you tell me everything. And yet you didn't tell me about Hana."
"It was different," Hirose defended himself.
"Different because she was a girl?" Nakamura asked, with an ironic smile.
"My God, of course not," Hirose replied, annoyed. "It was different because... we weren't friends yet."
Nakamura raised an eyebrow. "Oh, but correct me if am wrong, you told me we were already friends at the time."
Hirose felt his face heat up. "That was four years ago. It's not the same thing," he murmured.
"It's not the same thing?" Nakamura repeated, with a bitter smile. "Then explain it to me. Why does one rule apply to you and another to me?"
Hirose felt the frustration rising inside him. "It's not like that."
"Then how is it?" Nakamura challenged him. "Tell me. Why can I go out with Matsumura without telling you, but you can get together with Hana and not tell me anything? Why can I hide things from you, but you can't?"
"That's not what I'm saying!" Hirose shouted, trying to break free. "You're twisting everything!"
"I'm not twisting anything," Nakamura said, lowering himself enough to look Hirose in the face. "I'm just saying that maybe you're not so different from me. Maybe you also have your reasons for not saying certain things."
"It's not the same thing," he murmured.
"Why?" Nakamura asked. "Because with Hana you were embarrassed? Because you didn't know how to tell me? Because you were afraid of my reaction?"
Hirose didn't answer. He couldn't. Because Nakamura had hit the mark.
"You see?" Nakamura said, with a sad smile. "You also have your secrets. You also have your fears. And yet you accuse me of not trusting you."
Hirose lowered his gaze. Nakamura's grip on his wrists had loosened slightly, and Hirose wanted to get out of that uncomfortable position as soon as possible because his legs were starting to tremble.
"So are you together with Matsumura or not?"
Nakamura hesitated. His eyes grew darker, and Hirose saw something cross his gaze. A flash of uncertainty, almost panic. But it lasted only an instant.
"Yes, we're together," Nakamura said, in a firm voice. Too firm.
The sentence lodged itself in Hirose's chest like a dagger. All the blood seemed to drain from his face, leaving him pale and breathless. For a moment he couldn't think, couldn't breathe. His heart was beating so hard he could feel the pulse in his temples.
"Then," Hirose said, his voice weaker than he wanted, "maybe you shouldn't be in a position like this with me. Out of respect for Matsumura."
Nakamura looked at him. His eyes were still dark, but something in them had changed. A flash of amusement, mixed with something else that Hirose couldn't decipher.
"Or why?" Nakamura asked, in a low voice, almost a whisper. "What's wrong with this position, Hirose?"
Hirose felt his face heat up. Nakamura's voice was so close to his ear that he could feel his warm breath on his skin.
"You shouldn't be this close to me," Hirose murmured, trying to turn his head. "Not if you're with Matsumura."
Nakamura let go of one wrist and brought his hand to Hirose's chin, gently turning his head toward him.
"You're my best friend," Nakamura said, in a low voice. "What's the problem?"
Hirose felt anger rising inside him like a tide. Taking advantage of his free hand, he pushed Nakamura away with all his strength.
"Enough!" Hirose shouted. "I don't want to play games with you! I'm leaving!"
He turned toward the door, but Nakamura grabbed his wrist again.
"Hirose, wait—"
"No!" Hirose freed himself from the grip with a sharp tug. "Know that I'm angry, Nakamura. Very angry."
Nakamura stood still, his arms at his sides. His eyes were full of something that looked like regret, but Hirose didn't want to see it.
"You didn't tell me you were together," Hirose continued, his voice trembling with anger and frustration. "You made me believe there was nothing between you. You made me feel like an idiot."
"I didn't mean to—" Nakamura began.
"It doesn't matter what you meant to do!" Hirose interrupted him. "What matters is what you did. You lied."
Nakamura opened his mouth to reply, but Hirose didn't give him time.
The door closed with a sharp click.