No Blossom

VIII

"Okajima-san?"

I wanted to open my mouth and call out to her but I couldn't even move my lips. I probably shouldn't have, either.

"Saya-san..."

I had not been mistaken, the voice did belong to a man. It was a low and deep voice, even just the sound of his breathing alone was husky enough for goosebumps to form on my skin. He had dark short hair and a white shirt that was unbuttoned halfway and the sleeves had been rolled up messily to reveal his toned arms.

He was leaning over the counter with some of his weight, and under him I could recognize Okajima's slim body and flowy, thin hair spread over the table. He was moving his hips rapidly and thrusting into her, grunting loudly with each motion of his body. She wasn't responding to him in any way, but from the way she softly gripped onto his arms hinted that she wasn't at least trying to push him off. Not at all. She was holding onto him.

After a few minutes of thrusting inside her and groaning, the man stopped moving and collapsed on top of her, panting heavily. By then I hadn't even realized how much time had passed because I felt as though time had frozen right then, as had my body. My eyes were fixed on the counter but I couldn't watch, I could just look at the vase and the water that was no longer wavering because it had already long spilled over.

When I had somewhat returned to my senses I quickly hid behind the corner, hoping no one had noticed me. My heart was racing and my throat felt so dry that it hurt.

I can't breathe.

I rushed out the building and into the street where it was a lot cooler and gasped for air like there was no tomorrow. Standing there a few blocks away I stopped by a lamppost and leaned against it, barely able to stand.

"Is that man alright?" A passerby stopped to whisper to another. "He looks weak, he might just be anemic".

Anemic? That was not something I had heard before, though there were a few other things that people often associated me with. But I wasn't anemic.

Suddenly the image of what I'd seen in the office only moments prior flashed in my mind, clearer by the minute, until I could say for certain that it was Okajima. There was no mistaking it, not after the two weeks that we'd been seeing each other. I knew it was her.

Though, I felt a little guilty for making that assumption at first. What if that man was forcing himself on her? I couldn't...I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions, yet I couldn't lie to myself either. It didn't look like she was in distress, though I hadn't gotten a good look at her face.

I shuddered at the thought of what I had been watching, with no shame, not because it was enjoyable in any way but because I was too paralysed to look away. The pace at which his hips moved to match his heavy breathing was uneven and impatient all the way up until he came.

Before I even knew it, I was home, in the darkness of my own apartment. I closed the door behind me quietly as to not make any sound, then leaned against it and stared up at the ceiling. "Okajima-san..." Her name left my lips again as I thought back to all the times when I had called out to her. Then I remembered what the man had called her. "Saya-san."

But it made sense that he would have called her that, they must have been colleagues and had known each other far longer than I had known her. Maybe...Maybe there was something more to their relationship, I must have been nothing but a stranger to her.

I cried.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd cried, except as a child, as a child I used to cry a lot.

I tried to hide my face with my hands, but it didn't make me feel any better, so I rested my head against the door and let the tears flow. But I still kept repeating her name over and over again, as though calling out to her. It was the most comfort that I could give myself. I wanted to imagine her in front of me, looking at me with curiosity like she did once or twice, or maybe that one time when she smiled at me. It wasn't a big smile, and that's what made it so special. Okajima-san did not smile a lot.

I knew that all those visions were nothing more - only visions - but I still clung to them just like I clung to her. Because, even if it wasn't real, it eased me. I wanted her to hold me and praise me, not only that, I wanted to fall asleep knowing she would still be there with me in the morning.

But she never stayed the night.

I stood up and took off my coat, it was drenched just like on the night when we first met. I almost threw it in the corner in hopes that soon she would knock on my door and hand me my wallet.

But my wallet was still in my pocket.

"Kiryuu-kun. Kiryuu-kun. What I'm going to tell you now might not sound very nice, but you need to listen to me. Now look here Kiryuu-kun. I know it hurts a lot, but you don't need to be scared. See? I wiped the blood away and it almost looks like there's nothing there."

"Keiji isn't crying either. Why don't you try being like your brother?"