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Summary
‘A gift for you.’ Matsukawa’s voice echoed in his mind as he recalled the way his high school friend had slyly passed him a folded shopping bag under the table while they were in the middle of lunch. Matsukawa had insisted he look at it only when he got home, and feeling foolishly happy about the spur of the moment gift, he agreed.
He wished, in hindsight, that he had looked instead.
And that he had throttled Matsukawa for even thinking it was an appropriate gift.