YNoMH? (BL)

32

Chapter 32: Where Home Is (8)

Kei came back to his senses when his cell phone alarm went off. It was early noon—the time that he would always wake up. He was sitting on the sofa with his coat on, but he wasn't clear if he had slept or if he had just simply blanked out.

Ahhh, it's noon. It's already noon. I have to go to work.

Kei staggered to his feet and felt something shift inside his coat pocket. When he shoved his hand in to check it, he found a key, cold and hard—the spare one to this apartment that Kei had given to Ushio. Ushio had been clutching it in his fist. When he did drop it into Kei's pocket and leave? Kei tapped on it as it rested in his hand. The sound was unsatisfyingly light. They had talked only a few hours ago, but his memory was blurred behind frosted gla.s.s. And despite all of that, he could calmly a.n.a.lyze the state of his mind, recognizing that he probably didn't want to face reality right now.

Kei showered, quickly checked the news from the morning, and ate a breakfast of egg drop instant miso soup poured over rice. He got dressed and left the apartment at his usual time. It was probably because he had left the TV playing a regularly scheduled weekday show that he was able to go through all the motions to get ready.

The front door was locked. Ushio couldn't have locked it, so Kei must have done it himself. Surprisingly, he could still function properly, but his memory from the time was completely blank. The key for Ushio's house was still hanging from the key hook on the inside door of the shoe cabinet. If you're gonna go, then take it with you, Kei complained bitterly to himself, but when he thought that Ushio probably wasn't in the state of mind to think of such a thing, he finally felt the clear pain of his heart aching. Kei grabbed the keys and started running. It was so cold outside he could probably draw full lines with his breath. The days were short, and he couldn't feel any warmth from the sun already starting to hide behind the clouds.

As long as it didn't snow, that was all that Kei wished for. Because Ushio hated the snow. Kei clutched the key in his fist like a child off to run an errand as he headed to Ushio's house. The metal probably left dents in his skin. If Ushio happened to be at the house, would they only repeat the same goodbye as yesterday? What would he do if Ushio wasn't there? Should he collect his things at the house—it was only clothes and such—and then drop the key off in the mailbox?

Kei fully understood the situation that had happened, but inside his head, Ushio was smiling. Smiling while doing work in front of his computer. Or doing his work in the kitchen, or doing the laundry, and saying, Hey.

"Did something happen to make you rush all the way here on your hind legs?"

"I had a bad dream."

"A dream where you couldn't eat cows or tuna?"

"Yeah."

"That would be a nightmare."

If only Kei could give the thoughts inside his head some kind of form like Ushio. If he could mold reality from his thoughts like making candy, then they could live there together forever—in a miniature garden just for the two of them. He didn't need anyone or anything else.

Kei ran and arrived in front of Ushio's house.

But to be precise, it was more accurate to say the place where Ushio's house used to stand.

The first floor with the elevated ceilings, the large storefront shutters, the quiet second floor sitting on top of it, the machine oil stains, the leftover bird nests—Kei could picture them all in his head, but the square plot of land was a blank, empty lot between two buildings like it was peeled even from his memory. There was no signboard, no fence; all that remained was parched dirt and gravel as if it had returned to its original state 10 or 20 years ago. It seemed to say that the days that he had spent here were all an illusion.