Sekaiichi Hatsukoi – Yokozawa Takafumi no Baai Vol 6 Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

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After gargling thoroughly, Yokozawa Takafumi returned his toothbrush to the stand atop the sink. The blue brush was Kiris.h.i.+ma’s, the pink one Hiyori’s—and the light green one was his own. Alongside the stand were two cups for rinsing: the pink one matching the toothbrush was Hiyori’s own, while Yokozawa borrowed the enamel cup that Kiris.h.i.+ma used.

He wiped his mouth with the towel draped over his shoulder before tossing it into the was.h.i.+ng machine. Seeing as it was already past midnight, he decided to set the timer so that the wash would finish just as they woke in the morning. “I guess 7 AM will do it…”

The next day was a holiday, so they could afford to sleep in, but this never seemed to change the fact that he’d wind up waking around his usual time out of habit.

He’d initially been uncomfortable with the way so many of his personal items had found their way into the Kiris.h.i.+mas’ home, but by now, he’d grown quite used to it.

To an onlooker, he probably seemed like he was dropping by with shameless frequency. He’d at first just come by now and then after being invited over for dinner, but ever since they’d started taking care of his sick cat, he’d now taken to spending the night as well. Kiris.h.i.+ma and Hiyori had dragged Yokozawa and Sorata into their little family circle, and he’d never imagined how deeply he’d become involved with the pair.

The comfort of this home was likely due in large part to Hiyori’s innocent nature. She hadn’t been shy in the least on their first meeting, and even now afforded him her complete and utter trust. Even saying, “I’m home,” when he stepped into the genkan had become commonplace.

It had taken him quite some time to learn the happiness of people accepting him unconditionally.

He wiped the fogged-up mirror with his hand, staring at his reflection. He’d be turning 30 next year…but it still hadn’t quite hit home yet. Many had always seen him as older than he actually was, but lately he felt like he’d finally started to seem his age more, bit by bit.

But just because he was about to hit his 30s didn’t mean he felt any particular sense of panic. It was only…he couldn’t deny feeling a little disappointed that he hadn’t grown into the adult he’d imagined he would as a child.

Ever since joining Marukawa Shoten fresh out of college, he’d been focused solely on Sales. He’d never been particularly good at coping with things right off the bat, but through hard work and stamina, he’d managed to learn the ropes, supplementing the areas where he’d been lacking. Now, in place of the reckless att.i.tude he’d had when first entering the adult world, he felt like he had a better handle on his work. If pressed, he might even admit that this was a sign of personal growth.

He tried to keep on top of things, in an effort to ensure that his day to day activities didn’t turn into “just going through the motions”, but when he was this busy, there were things he overlooked—and it frightened him.

It was November now, and the restlessness he struggled with had visibly increased, largely because on top of the end-of-the-year festival he was already overseeing, a campaign to celebrate the premier of the Za Kan movie would be starting soon. To pull this project off, he’d have to coordinate with not only the editing division but the animation division as well.

Projects kept piling up, one after the other, nipping at his heels, and while he was getting fed up with these seemingly endless days of pressure at the office, he still felt rather fulfilled.

But he was no longer young enough that he could get by with little sleep or rest, and taking care of oneself was an important part of being a contributing member of society. He couldn’t afford to forget that his body was his greatest resource if he intended to keep on working for the next few dozen years.

He exited the bathroom and headed into the den, where he found Kiris.h.i.+ma sitting with his second beer of the evening, watching television and having already finished his bath earlier.

“Drinking again?” Hiyori was spending the evening at her grandparents’ place, so they’d eaten out, and Kiris.h.i.+ma had enjoyed quite a bit of sake and shochu then.

“It’s just a low-malt; this doesn’t even count as booze. Don’t worry; I’ve left plenty for you, too. We’ve got the day off tomorrow, so drink as much as you like.”

“I’m fine.” Kiris.h.i.+ma had kept on urging him to drink more earlier, but he felt he’d had more than his fair share for the evening. But despite having drunk more than Yokozawa had, Kiris.h.i.+ma showed no signs of being affected, which only served to irritate further. “But geez, you’re like a d.a.m.n sieve. How much does it take for you to get p.i.s.sed out of your skull, exactly?”

Yokozawa headed to the kitchen, filling a gla.s.s first with ice and then water from the sink, before settling down next to Kiris.h.i.+ma. After a long draw, he felt his parched throat finally quenched.

“I’ve never gotten that drunk since I stopped going crazy with the booze like I did when I was younger.”

“Well don’t over-indulge just because you won’t get drunk. Even if you’re a heavy-weight, you’re still putting strain on your liver.” Even people who didn’t get tipsy or hung over still had their livers working to remove the alcohol from their systems, after all. Drinking practically every day would eventually cause the liver to start breaking down, and just because he wasn’t a light weight didn’t mean he didn’t need to watch himself.

“Worrying over me?”

“Just letting you know the general opinion on the matter,” he retorted in quick response to the amused question. Sure, he might’ve been worrying a bit, but he couldn’t afford to let the man himself know this.

“Aww, don’t be shy; just admit you’re worried about me. But well—it’s not like I’m drinking every day, so I’ll be fine. I just tend to go overboard a bit since it’s so great spending time with you.”

“Don’t try to blame this on me.”

“It was a compliment—be happy about it.”

“Yeah yeah, thanks. By the way—what time is Hiyori getting back tomorrow?” He smoothly brushed aside the comment, changing the topic to keep Kiris.h.i.+ma from hounding him too stubbornly. Kiris.h.i.+ma didn’t seem too pleased with this, expression flas.h.i.+ng dissatisfied for a moment, but he soon gave up, going along with the s.h.i.+ft in conversation.

“She said she was going to the zoo with my parents, so she’ll probably be back some time tomorrow evening.”

“Then that means I don’t need to prep for lunch. Wanna head out somewhere for lunch, if it’s just gonna be us. We should probably get some shopping in, too.”

“Hey now, isn’t there an option to cook just for me?” He pursed his lips, pasting on a deliberate pout. It was at times difficult to believe that such a childish man as Kiris.h.i.+ma could be editor in chief of a popular shonen manga magazine. Surely none of his subordinates would ever believe Yokozawa if he told them about these moments.

“It’s easier to just pick up something while we’re out at the grocery store. If you insist on eating at home, all I can make you is some leftover fried rice.”

“Then that’s plenty; everything’s tasty as long as you’re the one making it.”

“…Good grief, fine then. But just so you know, that ‘anything’s fine’ att.i.tude is really annoying.” There was no one who didn’t appreciate compliments on their cooking, but it was too embarra.s.sing to just thank him for his words, so he wound up responding with his usual banter.

But it really was quite difficult coming up with a decent menu, and if it’d just been something for himself, he could throw together something simple, but he could hardly do the same when he was sharing the meal with someone else as well.

“Fine then—I want to eat fried rice.”

“You don’t have to make it sound so forced! Geez…. Oh yeah—I’ve gotta go into the office on Sunday. They need someone to help out with a literature autograph event.”

“Autograph event? They’re short-handed?”

“There’s that—but it’s one of the authors who’s helping us put together the fair. I’d wanted to deliver my greetings directly, so I agreed to do it.” The author was a veteran mystery writer who loveddoling out fanservice, and every time they released a new piece, they partic.i.p.ated in autograph events and talk events and such. One event planned for the fair involved authors from different genres discussing the business together, and while it would be some time yet before that talk show happened, Yokozawa was actually looking forward to it himself.

“Ah, I get it now. That reminds me, I’m gonna be involved in something literature-related soon—did I mention that?”

“I haven’t heard anything about it; something getting a manga release?”

“Yeah; have you heard about Oosaki Ryou’s piece being turned into a movie?”

“I feel like someone mentioned it recently, yeah. They’ve turned down all requests for cross-media entertainment so far, though, so getting this unexpected greenlight had the movie producer dancing a jig, apparently.”

“Yup. And they’re turning the piece into a manga, too, and going to serialize it in j.a.pun.”

“Wow, that’s great. Sounds like it’ll be quite the topic of conversation.” Oosaki Ryou was a best-selling novelist with quite a broad repertoire of hits, spanning everything from young-adult mysteries to period pieces. Their readers.h.i.+p included young and old, men and women alike, with a lot of hard-core fans, and while he couldn’t boast to owning every piece of the author’s, Yokozawa did have quite a few copies adorning his own bookshelf.

But despite their popularity, the author had never had any of their works cross over into other media—not because no one had ever suggested it, but because the author had refused to hear of it.

Movie versions of manga and novels tended to be met with mixed reviews; every reader had their own ideas of how it should be done, so it was no easy feat to find a cast or prepare a script that could satisfy everyone. With novels in particular, made of nothing but words strung together, everyone had their own image of the story.

And the higher the expectations, the more difficult it became to meet them. It was hardly rare for bold changes to result in great disappointment.

The author likely had high ideals and strong conviction; that they’d finally agreed this time must be evidence of how strongly they believed it could be pulled off.

“For the time being, at least, I’ll be in charge of churning out a single volume of the manga…”

“Why d’you look so concerned? Isn’t this a good thing? This author who’s never been interested in a movie version of their works has agreed to not just that but a comic version as well.”

“Well yeah, it’s just…the conditions they’ve set…” Kiris.h.i.+ma’s expression grew solemn, being particularly evasive. Yokozawa didn’t understand why, but the guy really didn’t seem too excited about the prospect of his upcoming project.

“What, did they throw out some kind of annoying stipulation or something?”

“It’s not annoying, it just…makes me wonder why they accepted it in the first place—apparently they only agreed to the movie version if I would be in charge of the manga version.”

“What the heck’s with that? Do they know you?” Yokozawa certainly hadn’t been expecting that confession, and his expression waxed suspicious. He’d heard of authors demanding the partic.i.p.ation of a certain director or actor in exchange for agreeing to a movie version of their work, but to designate the editor of a manga version? That was a new one.

“No, I’m sure we’ve never met before, so that’s what’s nagging at me.”

“Maybe they’ve heard great things about you and just decided they wanted to work with you?” Kiris.h.i.+ma was something of a celebrity in his field, after all; he was well known as the managing editor for a rather popular author, and one look at the works he’d had a hand in told you everything you needed to know about his abilities.

And it wasn’t just a matter of skill—his very physical appearance set tongues to wagging. He had graceful features, height in the upper 180s, long arms and legs, and a fit, firm body. Just walking down the street, the guy drew stares from men and women alike, and no few number of those women worked up the courage to speak to him. Ever since agreeing to an interview which included photos of himself, he’d become more well-known, and he could easily be called a celebrity in his own little corner of the working world. Yokozawa even recalled hearing that after his photos had appeared in a women’s gravure magazine, he’d actually gotten fan mail.

On top of that, he had an easy-going, sociable nature, which had earned him quite a few fans within their own company as well. Some of their female coworkers had even, at one point, tried to useYokozawa to get closer to Kiris.h.i.+ma.

“I guess we just have to hope that’s all it is…”

“What’re you so worried about?”

“I’m not really worried, per se…”

“You’ll be fine; what kind of person is this ‘Oosaki-sensei’ character, anyway?” Neither their gender nor age—much less their face—had ever been made public, and from what he’d read, he’d never noticed them speak much about their personal details in interviews. The mysterious author whose true ident.i.ty no one knew had predictably become a hot topic of conversation for a period of time.

Yokozawa suspected they were a young man, given their style of writing, but there was no telling until he met the author in person. After all, there were plenty of male authors out there who used a gentler, more feminine writing style, as well as female authors who wrote dark, gritty pieces as well—and authors who seemed likely to be much older often turned out to be mere college students.

“I haven’t gotten the details from their editor over in the lit division, but we’ve got a meeting scheduled for next week, so I’m sure I’ll learn all I need to know about the author as well as why they’ve asked me to work on their piece.”

“Well whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not a bad reason, so you’re probably getting worked up over nothing.”

“I hope so; it’s just, they seem like a really…particular author, so I doubt making this piece into a manga will go off without a hitch. Sorry—but I’ll probably have to ask someone else to help you out with the winter fair stuff.”

“I don’t mind—just don’t stick me with some newbie who can’t find his way out of a paper bag.”

“I’m probably gonna ask Hitomi to handle it, so don’t you fret. And I’ll continue handling everything to do with Za Kan, so let me know if there’s anything you need.”

“Got it. That reminds me, when is the screening for the Za Kanmovie?” The screening referred to the first promotional screening for the movie, when VIPs and staff were first allowed to see the finished product. It was also the last chance to run a final check on everything, but it would be more or less the final version.

“Middle of next week. They mentioned deciding hard dates some time this weekend. That guy’s actually made great progress, considering his nature, but I’m still scared he’s gonna screw it up somehow at the last minute.”

“But nothing seems off right now, right?”

“For now, yeah. We’re gonna run the final check early next week, so if you’ve got the time, drop by for the viewing.”

“It’s all right if I come?”

“You’re involved in the project, after all, so of course. You’re the one responsible for selling the d.a.m.n manga.”

“Oh yeah, I guess I am.” Given that the manga and movie fell under different divisions, he did feel that he ought to practice some degree of restraint, but now that Kiris.h.i.+ma had outright invited him, there was no reason not to oblige.

“Why not invite some of the others from Sales? We’ve got plenty of seats, and it’ll be nice to hear some thoughts from unbiased parties.”

“All right; I’ll ask around and see who’s free.”

“I’ll text you when we’ve decided on an exact time.”

“How does the finished product look, from your perspective?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see~ Though given that Yasuda’s rea.s.sured me he’s gone all out, I’m sure it won’t hurt you to keep your expectations high.”

Yokozawa gave a start at that name falling from Kiris.h.i.+ma’s lips—Yasuda Gou. He was the anime producer in charge of the Za Kanmovie. Yokozawa had spoken to him on two occasions thus far, but the guy marched to the beat of his own drum, leaving Yokozawa frankly a bit hesitant on how to engage him.

“Yasuda-san, huh… He’s as strange a character as the rumors make him out to be.” The reason he was so on-guard at the mere mentionof the man’s name was probably because Yasuda had figured out the true nature of his and Kiris.h.i.+ma’s relations.h.i.+p at their very first meeting. Those eyes, hidden behind gla.s.ses and fringed in long lashes, left one feeling as if he could see right through them to their deepest, darkest secrets.

“Yeah, you could say that. He certainly ranks high among Marukawa’s oddb.a.l.l.s. But despite his eccentricities, he absolutely oozes talent.”

“I see…” Kiris.h.i.+ma’s expression and wording clearly related how much he respected and acknowledged Yasuda, but while Yokozawa could—even as a casual viewer—recognize how amazing Yasuda was, based on his works, it was still quite rare for Kiris.h.i.+ma to be so unrestrained in praising someone.

Yasuda was an eccentric phantom of a man—something Yokozawa had heard long before he ever actually met him—and everything he touched seemed to turn to gold. Of course, all of the works that received mixed media release were almost entirely pieces that were quite popular to begin with. Because they already had a confirmed following, plans for subsequent projects could proceed with confidence. But Yasuda also liked to proactively take on relatively unremarkable works that had never enjoyed any measure of popularity before, and spurning the doubts of others within the company, he’d elevated these pieces to great epics, shoving them into the spotlight.

The company president apparently had great faith in Yasuda’s eye and skill and appeared to be letting him do as he would. Many of the rumors Yokozawa had heard over the years sounded rather far-fetched, but now that he’d met the man face to face, he was still bowled over by his good looks.

Yasuda was a contemporary of Kiris.h.i.+ma’s, which put him in his mid-30s, but he could have easily pa.s.sed for someone in their early 20s, and his handsome features almost seemed as if he’d been builtthat way. He had silky black hair and pale porcelain skin, with a lithe body build and delicate features that would have been at home on any runway model. The way it was practically impossible to tell his age was somewhat reminiscent of a certain editor over inEmerald, too… Then, at their very first meeting, after realizing that Yokozawa and Kiris.h.i.+ma were in a relations.h.i.+p together, he’d informed them that he was bis.e.xual himself.

His astounding speech and conduct had left Yokozawa unable to do anything but gape in shock, but he was certain anyone would have reacted that way under the same circ.u.mstances.

“But he’s a total failure as a working adult, y’know. He’s selfish and egotistical and stubborn, and he never sticks to schedules or deadlines. I can’t tell you how often I’ve had to run around and clean up after him.” Kiris.h.i.+ma’s tone spoke heavily of personal experience; he was probably reliving even more of these escapades inside his mind than he actually spoke of. “And yet…unreasonable as he may be…I still put up with him for some reason. I guess you could say the strange inability for anyone to truly loathe him is another talent of his. There’s seriously no competing with guys as blessed as him!”

“You’ve churned out your fair share of best-sellers, too.” As far as Yokozawa was concerned, Kiris.h.i.+ma was one of those ‘blessed few’ as well.

“I’m just lucky; I only come across these decent reads by chance—the authors are the ones with the real talent.”

“You’ve got skills of your own.” Surely he was being far too modest; no matter how talented the author, the editor—the very first reader—was the one who really pulled out the allure in their work.

“I suppose so; I like to think I lend a helping hand, at least.”

“You do a h.e.l.l of a lot more than ‘lend a helping hand’.”

“I like to do my homework for any job; I do some market research, some calculations, determine what sort of story readers are hungering for these days, what sort of characters they’d like to see, and then I discuss my findings with the author. Though, granted—this is all part and parcel of being an editor.”

Kiris.h.i.+ma was definitely a curious one; he could always be found with a book in hand in his limited spare time, and he was sure to check out popular anime and dramas whenever he found the time. If anything caught his eye, he would look it up immediately, and he placed great importance on meeting people, going out of his way to make new acquaintances. Whenever one of Hiyori’s friends dropped by the apartment for a playdate, he would even ply them indirectly for hints on the latest fads.

This was likely how he antic.i.p.ated the Next Big Thing; even if he wasn’t 100% infallible on this point, he always managed to point himself in the right direction. Even Yokozawa, with his Sales background, could understand this intuition of his.

Keeping an eye on the marketplace was important for a salesman as well. Just by reading the numbers, he could predict to some extent what sorts of books would sell well in the future. As a greenhorn, he’d been groping about in the dark without much of a clue what was going on, but now he felt he’d gotten the hang of things. He could sense when a book was probably going to sell well—though this could also just be a product of experience.

“Geniuses are far removed from the reach of us ordinary folks. I’m just glad to be of service, in the meantime.”

“But because you’ve got good senses yourself, you’re able to pull it off, don’t you see?”

“Rather than any sort of ‘senses’, it’s just a knack for taking an objective view of a given situation. Intuition has its uses, but being overconfident in your own abilities can also hamstring you. Something may suit your personal tastes, but if it doesn’t appeal to readers on the street, they’re never going to pick it up.”

“I see.”

“I mean sure, I take pride in my work, but when I see Yasuda’s genius way of handling his job, there are definitely times I admittedly feel jealous. I mean, we’re contemporaries, after all; that really p.i.s.sed me off when I was younger, though I still admired him for it. But alas, if wishes were horses…”

“Yeah, I guess…” For a moment, Yokozawa felt a pang slice through his chest—but when he tried to contemplate the source of the sensation, Kiris.h.i.+ma’s voice distracted him.

“So, that being the case—unfortunately, after this weekend, we won’t have the time to cuddle and flirt for a while.”

“Huh? What’re you talking about? It’s not like it can be helped—work is work.” He gawked openly at the way Kiris.h.i.+ma’s shoulders slumped as he let out a sigh. “For a while” would undoubtedly turn out to be a month at best; it was nothing to be so dramatic over.

“Aww, c’mon—would it kill you to act a little disappointed at least? Good grief, I can’t believe you’re giving me the same speech Hiyodid…”

“What’d she say?”

“‘It’s your job, so there’s no helping it, right?’ Even today, she must have realized I was pretty busy and said she was going to spend the night at her grandmother’s place herself.”

“She’s pretty mature, that kid.” He had no difficulty imagining Hiyori saying that sort of thing, and he pasted on a wry smile. Perhaps because of her living situation, she could be quite mature at times. She’d probably chastised him with a serious expression on her features, too.

“She is, at that. Thanks to you, she’s growing into a fine young woman.”

“Only because you raised her right.” Kiris.h.i.+ma had done splendidly as a single father, raising his daughter. While he depended on his parents for a lot of things, the reason Hiyori had grown into such an honest, hard-working child was undoubtedly because of the great example her father set. Despite his busy schedule, he carved out as much free time as possible to spend with his daughter.

“Right?? …Is what I’d like to say, but for the most part, it’s my mom’s doing. I never could’ve managed it on my own.”

“She’s a girl, after all.”

“These days, she takes care of me more than the other way around. And her talkative nature’s something I can blame on my mother, too.”

“You run your mouth quite a bit yourself.” Yokozawa hardly ever won contests of verbal jabs against him, after all. Any objections he made were eventually turned around on him and, in his confusion, he wound up being forced to agree with any proposals on the table. Hiyori’s own quick thinking was likely inherited from her father—she had moments where she kind of s.p.a.ced out, but by and large, she was a sharp child.

“You think? I always thought I was pretty normal.”

“You’re the only one who thinks that, trust me.” It was hard to tell if he was playing dumb or if he truly didn’t realize it; if Kiris.h.i.+ma’s level of speech in a given day were the norm, the world would be a much noisier place indeed. “Still, without Hiyo around…it’s pretty quiet, huh.”

The apartment felt a little different when Hiyo wasn’t here; it was strange how, simply by her absence, it felt like another home entirely.

“True…but some time alone now and then isn’t so bad.”

“…Sorata’s here too, you know.” He couldn’t bring himself to just duck his head in agreement, firing back a retort to disguise his shame.

“Sorata headed into Hiyo’s room to sleep; wasn’t that nice of him? He really can take a hint.”

“He just likes her room, that’s all!” Cats were finicky, moody animals; they didn’t do things just because they thought their humans wanted them to. Quite the opposite, they more often than not completely ignored how inconvenient their actions might be.

For Yokozawa, though, he wished the cat were around right about now.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“Just…I thought, you know…I’d go brush my teeth…”

“You just brushed them earlier. Aren’t you a little young to be forgetting things?”

“………” He’d groped for any possible excuse to leave the room—and that had been his undoing. Before he could come up with another reason, though, Kiris.h.i.+ma drew in close, reducing the s.p.a.ce between them.

“Don’t run away.”

“You’re too close!” Kiris.h.i.+ma’s face suddenly so close to his own gave him a start; at this distance, he could clearly make out his irises: a soft, light tea brown. The same as Hiyori’s.

“You’re never gonna get used to this, are you?”

“I’m…just not good with sudden moves.”

“So you’re saying if I didn’t spring things on you, you’d be just fine? Then how about I give you fair warning next time?”

Kiris.h.i.+ma leaned in another few centimeters, and Yokozawa responded by leaning backwards. “I keep telling you, you’re too close!” If he kept leanining back like this, he was going to fall flat on his a.s.s.

“If I don’t move in close, though, I can’t kiss you.”

“Then how about you just don’t do it?”

“But I want to. Though I’m not too picky about the location.”

“Hey—don’t lift up my s.h.i.+rt!” He found himself shoved down onto the sofa with the t-s.h.i.+rt he’d just pulled on promptly shoved up. The s.h.i.+rt was one of the items of clothing he kept stored here with the Kiris.h.i.+mas.

“What, it’s not like it’s anything to be embarra.s.sed about, right?”

“I don’t like the look in your eyes!” He lightly slapped away Kiris.h.i.+ma’s hand and tugged the hem of the s.h.i.+rt back down. It wasn’t that he found the situation embarra.s.sing, as they were both men, but when he stopped to think about what frame of mind Kiris.h.i.+ma was appreciating him in, he just couldn’t keep calm. Plus, this was an ‘everyday s.p.a.ce’—Hiyori played here, so he balked at the notion of doing anything in this sort of location.

“The look in my eyes?”

“Just, you look like…”

“What, like I’m entertaining indecent thoughts? G.o.d you’re an idiot; if we’re gonna do indecent things, then I kind of have to look at you that way. What sort of a saint are you, exactly?” Kiris.h.i.+ma laughed, which only served to stoke Yokozawa’s ire further. There was nothing to be done about not being used to things he was nevergoing to be used to, after all.

“Shut up! I’m saying that kind of suggestive s.h.i.+t is annoying, that’s all!”

“Your face is red as a tomato, you know.”

“Whatever.” The more he talked, the deeper the hole he was digging for himself. Despite his constant efforts not to say anything out of line that he’d wind up regretting, he tended to just snap whenever Kiris.h.i.+ma riled him up.

“And it’s expressions like that that make me want to take advantage of you.”

“Uwah—d-don’t tickle me!” But Kiris.h.i.+ma was attacking him on all sides, a broad grinning leer on his face. Yokozawa tried to restrain his hands to make him stop, but the guy kept wriggling free.

“Wow, you sure are ticklish… Like right here…”

“Sto—I said, cut it out…!” Despite his serious protests, though, Kiris.h.i.+ma seemed to have no intentions of halting his attacks.

“And…here?”

“……!” Kiris.h.i.+ma’s fingers brushed lightly over his chest, and he sucked in a tense breath—and Kiris.h.i.+ma seized his opportunity.

“Gotcha!”

“Uwah!” His shoulders were sharply shoved, and he fell down flat on his back on the couch, his head finding cus.h.i.+oning against the armrest. It didn’t hurt, given the padding, but the jolt of the impact could have given him a nasty b.u.mp against the back of his head. “That was dangerous, idiot!”

“I held back; it didn’t hurt, right?”

“Don’t just climb on top of people!” Kiris.h.i.+ma lay flopped on top of him, and he gave a great shove at his shoulder, spurning his kiss. It wasn’t that Yokozawa didn’t want to kiss him, necessarily, only that he didn’t want to let himself get swept away in the moment.

“You know, Yokozawa, this hand of yours is kind of in the way; mind moving it?”

“Do you not get it? I’m rejecting you.”

“You’re being awfully stubborn today. C’mon, a little bit won’t hurt, right?”

“Your ‘little bit’ is a h.e.l.l of a lot more than just a little bit! Now cut it out!” Trying to dislodge him by hand was clearly not working, so he tried involving his legs as well. He braced his feet against Kiris.h.i.+ma’s stomach, and with a shove, finally heaved him off.

“Hey now—using your legs wasn’t fair.”

“Shut up; that’s your opinion.” If he didn’t resort to such tactics, after all, he’d never be able to compete with Kiris.h.i.+ma, so it was kind of unavoidable. It seemed it was high time the guy learned that he was sorely mistaken if he thought he would get his way every time they came to blows like this.

“Well, I’m afraid I must inform you that if you think you’ve turned the tables now…you’re quite wrong.”

“Huh? Uwah—!”

Kiris.h.i.+ma grabbed the ankle nearest to him and gave a great tug, causing Yokozawa to b.u.mp his head on the arm rest once more.

“Hey, your toenails are getting kinda long.”

“I—I was just thinking I needed to trim them. Anyway—lemme go!”

“All right then, I’ll cut them for you.”

Yokozawa froze at the unexpected suggestion. “It’s fine! I can do it myself!” He would never have imagined things would work out like this; Kiris.h.i.+ma just grinned down at him, in high spirits—as if he’d just had the greatest idea—in stark contrast to the panicking Yokozawa.

“This sure takes me back! I used to trim Hiyo’s for her all the time.”

“Don’t get carried away! Hey!”

Kiris.h.i.+ma pulled out the box under the coffee table for storing small items and rifled through it until he found the nail clippers, all the while keeping a tight grip on Yokozawa’s ankle. “Now now, settle down. What if my hand should slip?”

“H-hey don’t say scary s.h.i.+t like that…” Kiris.h.i.+ma’s words were clearly a veiled threat; even if the blade wasn’t exposed, nail clippers were still a bladed object.

“Don’t worry; I’m confident in my skills,” he boasted, full of confidence, but Yokozawa felt only apprehension.

“…Wait a minute, aren’t you stupidly awkward?!” Letting a guy who couldn’t even properly peel an apple to cut one’s toenails was justbegging for trouble.

“Being awkward or not doesn’t matter when you’re just tr.i.m.m.i.n.g someone’s nails.”

“The h.e.l.l it doesn’t!” There was a world of difference between the soft nails of a child and the hardened ones of an adult. This was definitely not going to be as easy as Kiris.h.i.+ma thought it would.

“So you don’t trust your lover? This is the sort of thing that can bring about discord in a relations.h.i.+p, you know…”

“…Whatever, have it your way.” He couldn’t see himself succeeding in changing Kiris.h.i.+ma’s mind now, and rather than having finally prepared himself, it was more like the urge to surrender had sapped all his strength. The worst that could happen was that his nail would be cut to the quick.

However, he couldn’t bring himself to actually watch the deed being done, so he settled his head back on the arm of the sofa and turned his gaze up to the ceiling.

“There’s a good boy.”

“………” He’d lost the will to fight back now, though, and just relaxed in defeat, exhausted. Soft click…click… snipping sounds filtered into his ears, but given that he wasn’t in pain (yet, at least), he supposed things weren’t going too horribly.

The last time he’d had someone trim his nails for him had been when he was a child—and the worry and embarra.s.sing discomfort blended together, leaving him feeling quite conflicted. “Just…hurry it up already.”

“Don’t rush me. Is there any particular length you prefer?”

“Not really. So long as they’re not in my way.”

No, what bothered him was how—despite the fact that he was just clipping Yokozawa’s nails—the way Kiris.h.i.+ma was touching him was so…indecent. He was only holding his toes in position, but it was so embarra.s.sing it was almost unbearable. Plus, he couldn’t afford to thoughtlessly move his foot, and he desperately wanted to avoid Kiris.h.i.+ma learning of yet another weak spot on his body.

“Hey, how big are your feet? Are you bigger than me?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“Then I’ve got you beat by a half-centimeter.”

“I’ve got high arches and a wide sole.” He’d never had any issues with sneakers, but finding leather shoes to fit his feet had always been a trial. Even if the length fit him, the width might be too tight, or the opposite.

“I see… Now that you mention it, you do look bulkier than me.”

“…Don’t touch me like that.” Kiris.h.i.+ma had brushed his fingers gently over the sole, as if testing the thickness.

“Sorry—did it tickle?”

“You’re not sorry.” His words might have been ones of apology, but he had a broad grin on his features, which left Yokozawa with a very bad feeling. “Anyway—you’re done now, right?” On lifting his head, he checked to see that all ten toes had been cleanly clipped down, so he sought release from Kiris.h.i.+ma’s grip.

But Kiris.h.i.+ma remained firm. “No way; I haven’t filed them yet.”

“Huh? I’m not a chick. You don’t have to do that.” He couldn’t bear being stuck in this kind of position for much longer. He never did such annoying things as that usually, and while he did take care of his fingernails—being a salesman and all—he’d never been all that concerned with the state of his toes.

“If I just leave them like this, though, a nail might get caught on your sock.”

“That’s never happened even once before.” He always left them as they were after clipping and had never suffered from doing so. People invested in caring for their nails were free to do as they would, but he had no intention of filing them smooth himself.

“But it might happen. And I’ve told you I’ll do it for you, so don’t be shy.”

“I’m not being shy.”

“Come on.” His tone was gentle, but he still kept his grip firm about Yokozawa’s ankle. Despite what protests might come, he clearly had no intention of letting go, enjoying himself at Yokozawa’s expense.

He began to file away at the freshly trimmed toes with the emory board on the back of the clippers. Yokozawa simply watched warily, with Kiris.h.i.+ma looking like he might start humming any moment now; what was he playing at?

“……!” Kiris.h.i.+ma released a puff of air over Yokozawa’s foot to blow away any shavings left behind by the filing, and while the sensation of his nails being filed down had been uncomfortable enough, the feeling of warm breath over the sensitive skin of his foot was unbearably itchy.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He was done for if Kiris.h.i.+ma thought he was reacting to his touch even the slightest, so he grit his teeth quietly and steeled himself—though his focus was shot now.

“Hey…is this maybe a sweet spot for you?”

“Like h.e.l.l.”

“Really, now?” He slipped a finger between Yokozawa’s toes, rubbing the sensitive skin there, and Yokozawa reacted with a jerk

“Stop it—don’t mess around with other people’s bodies!” But it was too late now.

“Looks like I found someone’s weak point~ I never would’ve pegged you to have ticklish feet.” Kiris.h.i.+ma was positively br.i.m.m.i.n.g with glee now, and Yokozawa grit his teeth in defeat, realizing he couldn’t refute the accusation. He’d completely forgotten he was ticklish there. But tickling feet was a childish game—not something grown men ought to be playing at.

“Try anything funny and I’ll kick your a.s.s.”

“By ‘funny’, would you mean…something like this?” He leaned down to press his lips gently to the jutting ankle bone, and Yokozawa inhaled softly—if he said yes, then things would only escalate from here, but even if he denied it, Kiris.h.i.+ma would likely not stop at this point. As he groped for a response, though, Kiris.h.i.+ma gave a sharp tug on his foot, pulling his head from where it rested against the arm of the sofa and sending him toppling over.

“What the—h.e.l.l are you doing?!”

“Well if I don’t spring things on you, then you won’t be a good boy and let me pin you, right?” Kiris.h.i.+ma had his hands braced on either side of Yokozawa’s head, blocking out the light from the ceiling above and casting his entire field of vision into shadow.

“What about my nails?” The nail clippers were sitting on the coffee table now, and Yokozawa bit back the urge to complain Who was the one who made up some c.o.c.k and bull reason just so he’d have an excuse to fondle my feet?

“That’s hardly important now.”

“That’s certainly not what you were saying earlier!” He could only gape in shock at the selfish whimsy with which Kiris.h.i.+ma was carrying on. It was impossible to be angry given how unabashedly ridiculous the guy was behaving.

“I’m taking into account the mood.”

“No, you’re getting carried away!”

“Aww, you’re too kind.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.” This witty repartee Kiris.h.i.+ma liked to engage in was utterly exhausting; Kiris.h.i.+ma was probably enjoying the whole thing, so all it amounted to was a futile battle on Yokozawa’s part.

“Come on, things were just starting to get good… Show me a little love, will ya?”

“What part of this looks good…?” He’d been pinned down against his will—that certainly didn’t sound like things were ‘getting good’ to Yokozawa.

“Well you’re not really as p.i.s.sed off as you’d like me to believe, right?”

“What’s that supposed to…”

“You know fully well your scary expressions won’t work on me—not with the way your cheeks flush at the drop of a hat at times like this.”

“—!!” At Kiris.h.i.+ma’s comment, Yokozawa swiftly brought a hand up to s.h.i.+eld his face from sight—though at this point, he would’ve rather just scratched out Kiris.h.i.+ma’s eyes entirely.

“And what exactly are you hoping to accomplish, hiding your head like that?”

“……!” Kiris.h.i.+ma slipped a hand up the cuff of the shorts Yokozawa was wearing, kneading his thigh suggestively, and Yokozawa grit his teeth at the sensation akin to being ticklish once again rearing its head. “Are you…having fun groping my hard legs?”

“Of course I am. Doesn’t it feel good?”

“No comment.”

“That’s always your fall-back response when things aren’t going your way. Though I don’t suppose I mind all that much, since I interpret it as I like.”

“Ngh, don’t…get so full of yourself…”

“It’s just the two of us; I’m all but expected to be a little giddy,” he whispered gruffly, pressing his lips just below Yokozawa’s ear, and a trembling shudder rushed down his spine.

“…Let’s at least change locations. I don’t want to do it here,” he allowed, finally giving in. If he couldn’t get Kiris.h.i.+ma to stop, he at least wanted to move to the bedroom. This was s.p.a.ce he shared with Hiyori in their day-to-day lives—and he didn’t want to do thissort of thing there.

“What, it’s too embarra.s.sing if we don’t do it in a proper bed?”

“Yeah, sure, that’s it.” The reason wasn’t important—or so he thought, responding easily to Kiris.h.i.+ma’s question. But the expression Kiris.h.i.+ma fixed him with in return said he wasn’t satisfied with that reasoning at all. “…What’s with that face?”

“It’s no fun if you’re not being fussy and embarra.s.sed.”

Yokozawa fixed him with an expression of utter shock that Kiris.h.i.+ma could admit something like that with a straight face. “You…are a real pain in the a.s.s, you know that?” Any time he expressed his discomfort, the guy always told him not to be so shy—and yet now, when he was accepting things easily, he was ordered to be embarra.s.sed? There was just no winning when you humored a man as inconsistent in his words and actions as Kiris.h.i.+ma.

“Yeah, I think so too.”

“Don’t say that with a straight face!” Yokozawa snapped in a sharp retort, and Kiris.h.i.+ma let out a loud bark of laughter.

“But don’t you think you’re partly to blame as well, for going so easy on such an annoying guy as me?”

“Don’t try to push the blame on me!”

“Aww, you’re cute when you’re angry~”

“—!!” He was at a loss for how to deal with someone like Kiris.h.i.+ma, always ready with some witty comeback. But maybe it was times just like this, when he couldn’t bring himself to really blow up at the guy, that he was exactly as Kiris.h.i.+ma described: far too easy on him. He finally gave up any further protests, exhausted.

“Nngh…”

It always seemed like, no matter how much he fought it, things always went Kiris.h.i.+ma’s way in the end—and after much goading and coaxing, here he was, straddling Kiris.h.i.+ma’s hips. “Hnngh…” He held his breath against the mounting pressure of something being forced into his body. Perhaps the reason it was still so hard going, after all this time and so many joinings, was because this wasn’t exactly a natural act in the first place.

The fact that they were cresting that hurdle in an effort to achieve physical pleasure, though, just went to show what l.u.s.ty creatures humans were.

“……!”

“We changed locations, just as requested, so let me hear that sweet voice.”

Kiris.h.i.+ma gave his straining thighs a playful slap, and Yokozawa fixed him with an exhausted glare. The way he spoke all high-and-mighty grated horribly, and he struggled to recall just when Kiris.h.i.+ma had found himself in a position where he had the right to make requests.

“I’m…the one who…finally gave in here.”

“What’re you talking about? I compromised for you. Well whatever; I guess we’ll just call that a difference of opinion.” He spoke as if he’d just concluded the matter one-sidedly.

“Why…do you always act so d.a.m.n self-important…?”

“Can’t help it; it’s just my nature.”

“So contrary…”

“Hey, you gave up, right?; or else you wouldn’t let me f.u.c.k you after all that song and dance.”

“Wha…?!”

“So why don’t we stifle the conversation for now?”

“Huh?!” He opened his mouth to deliver a thorough tongue las.h.i.+ng to the irritatingly leering Kiris.h.i.+ma—when a sharp thrust pulled a moan from his throat instead. He’d completely forgotten the position he was in; sure, he might have been the one looking down on Kiris.h.i.+ma physically, but Kiris.h.i.+ma was most a.s.suredly the one in control of the situation.

How on earth had he let himself fall in love with such an irritatingman?

People liked to go on about the ‘weakness of love’, and he did sometimes wonder if he’d made the right decision, but it was too late to turn back now.

“For the time being, focus on the task at hand.”

“Ah—ah! Nn…!” Kiris.h.i.+ma began to thrust into him from below, and he lost all faculties of speech as the pleasure shuddering up and down his spine paralyzed his limbs. He was out of breath, exhausted now, and Kiris.h.i.+ma took him by the hips and began to lift and lower him in swift succession. The stimulation seemed to wring from him a moan he would never have believed came from his own throat.

“Don’t clench up so tight.”

“Not…my fault…” He could hardly be expected to retain control over his body in such a situation. Spangles of pleasure shot up his spine with each punching thrust, but the sounds filtering from his lips couldn’t form coherent responses.

“Hey, that’s your body there.”

“Nngh…aah…!” Kiris.h.i.+ma used the abdominal muscles he’d worked so hard to cultivate and increased the intensity of his upward thrusts, gripping Yokozawa by the hips to keep him from fleeing and pounding relentlessly up into his body.

He could only hold on and ride out the wave of punching thrusts, the generously applied lubricant contributing to the obscene squelching sounds echoing around the room.

“Try doing a little more work yourself; surely you’re not giving upalready, right?”

“…Your funeral,” he growled, fixing Kiris.h.i.+ma with a glare as he goaded Yokozawa on, and promptly collected himself, pulling his exhausted, pleasure-wracked body back into line, and began his counterattack.

As the week started, Yokozawa found himself with fewer and fewer opportunities to interact directly with Kiris.h.i.+ma, until several days had pa.s.sed without them speaking face to face at all. They texted and e-mailed, sure, but they hadn’t actually spoken in days.

Hiyori was spending the week with her grandparents, or on some evenings, Kiris.h.i.+ma’s mother came to spend the night at their place, apparently. As such, Yokozawa couldn’t exactly pop in like usual, so he hadn’t been able to see Hiyori or Sorata of late either.

However, this was hardly unusual; even Kiris.h.i.+ma, who made every effort to leave work on time each day, was swamped with work at the end of every month’s cycle. With the upcoming fair to worry about on top of everything, Yokozawa hadn’t a moment to breathe either.

“…Huh?”

He struggled to grasp what his boss had just told him—but the cogs in his mind had ground to a halt. He’d been called into his superior’s office under pretense of needing to ‘chat’.

Ignoring Yokozawa’s gaping confusion, the man continued: “This is all still under the table, you understand—nothing’s quite set in stone yet, but we’re confident you’re the man for the job. We’d like you to put those skills you’ve honed working in the Comics Division to better use elsewhere. So, that being the case, you should probably prepare yourself.”

“I…see…”

“Though of course, nothing’s going to be happening until at least after this fair’s over, so you shouldn’t worry too much over it for the foreseeable future. Just focus on what’s on your plate for now.”

“…Yes, sir…” he responded dully, leaving the office in a daze.

His mind was utterly blank—this had come completely out of left field. Pathetically enough, he still hadn’t quite managed to wrap his head around what had just happened.

As his boss put it, they were thinking of changing up the division he was a.s.signed to; he’d be moved from Comics, where he worked now, to the Literature division. Even if it wasn’t set in stone just yet, the fact that they’d brought up the suggestion to him meant it was fairly close to being settled now.

And it wasn’t exactly a strange idea; quite the opposite, in fact—it was stranger still that he’d only ever worked in Comics since joining the company.

“Literature, huh…”

He wasn’t complaining about the position he’d be filling, by any means. It was only…he’d been involved in Comics for so long, so he couldn’t shake the feeling that it’d be tough saying goodbye to the job.

There was nothing to think about; he only had one option. As an employee working for a company, he had no choice but to comply with its policies. He wouldn’t always have the luxury of doing exactly the work he wanted to be doing. His salary was earned by doing his job as an employee of this company, so if Human Resources decided that he ought to be working somewhere else, he had a duty to do as ordered. Even if it wasn’t a decision he was happy with.

On the bright side, at least he wasn’t being transferred out of Sales altogether; as he saw it, Sales and Marketing were his calling. He could never have cut it in the Editing or Graphics divisions, which required some measure of creative talent, nor did he think himself fit doing deskwork in the production departments. A job that called for some legwork was definitely the best fit for someone who really threw himself into his work, like Yokozawa.

“Oh, welcome back, Yokozawa-san! What did the boss want?”

Yokozawa froze for a moment at Henmi’s innocent question. “Huh? Oh, uh—just wanted to know how the fair preparations are going.” They’d discussed the fair, after all, so it wasn’t lie—but it was probably best not to bring up the prospect of changing divisions with Henmi until things were settled.

“Just one more month until it starts! I’m getting dizzy from all the work that’s left to be done, though. It’s hard enough putting together a normal fair, but this time around we’re involving everyone!” Genres typically held their own fairs separately at the end of the year, but this year, the entire company of Marukawa Shoten was cooperating to put together a fair—as dictated by the company president, intent on tearing down the divisions between genres. He wanted readers to be exposed to genres they might never have experienced before and had several ideas on how to go about such a grand endeavor.

However, while most idle onlookers might see the fair as a fun, flashy ‘festival’, for Yokozawa—responsible for putting the whole thing together—it was a source of much trial and tribulation.

“I suppose; though, while I wasn’t sure we’d be able to pull it off initially, it seems to be coming together nicely. Gotta start putting my weight into getting Za Kan off the ground soon, though.” Along with the winter fair coming up, plans were already in the works for a separate promotion of back issues of Za Kan and its upcoming movie release. That, combined with the fact that a new volume would be released just before the movie came out, meant the campaign would be a showy one indeed.

This would be a great opportunity to take advantage of the movie’s release to increase comic sales; they’d slap a new cover on older volumes, run related promotions in the new volume and magazine, and dominate corners of cooperating shops. And it would be impossible to succeed with this plan without the aid of the editing department. Now that they’d secured agreements to cooperate from several bookstore chains, they were planning on going country-wide with the promotion—and production of posters and panels for the campaign was already underway.

“Oh yes! There’s that as well, isn’t there! They’re in the final phase of review for the movie now, aren’t they? I’m excited to see it in theaters!”

“They’ll have the advance premiere soon.”

“Are you going to see it?”

“If I can find the time, yeah.”

“That’s great! I sure would like to go, too…”

“Well lucky for you, I was told to invite some others from Sales, so pa.s.s the word around to anyone else who’d like to check it out.”

“Awesome! I’m really excited now!”

“Seems they’d like to hear some unbiased thoughts, so be sure to get a good look.”

“I’ll keep both eyes peeled as if I were a real film critic ready to write a scathing review! Oh, that reminds me—whatever happened with the plans for that promotion involving the new packaging and volume releases?”

“Nothing’s set in stone yet; everyone’s got their hands full prepping for the movie release. Though I’d really like to at least get some rough idea of their plans…”

The Publis.h.i.+ng and Animation divisions were completely separate, which meant their Sales representatives were separate as well. Media mix involved cooperative involvement of multiple forms of media—which required working with divisions they’d never met before in order to get work done. That was easier said than done, of course, but the payoff was substantial.

“Shall I put together a few proposals myself? The target audience is readers of the original canon, correct? I don’t expect they’ll stray too far from there.”

“Yeah, you’re right; scrounge something up if you have the time. We can’t let this opportunity to boost sales slip by.”

“I’ll do my best!” Henmi returned brightly, br.i.m.m.i.n.g with confidence and energy. He’d been something of an airhead (albeit a motivated one) when he’d first joined the company, but by now, Henmi was quite reliable, and Yokozawa reflected that he didn’t really have much left to teach the guy.

“You’ve been in pretty high spirits lately; something good happen?” Reflecting back now, Henmi had seemed to be in a suspiciously good mood all week. He was always great at lifting spirits, but lately he’d been practically walking on suns.h.i.+ne.

“Oh, you noticed??” His eyes sparkled, and Yokozawa found himself walking right into his trap; he apparently was more than eager to discuss his personal life.

“Not so much noticed as…well, it was pretty obvious…” Yokozawa was starting to regret even asking; he should’ve just kept his big mouth shut.

“Actually…I got myself a girlfriend! I met her through a mutual friend, but she’s just wonderful! We get along, we love the same authors—”

“All right, I’ve had enough of hearing you sing her praises already,” he cut off, stopping Henmi before he got going on what would likely be a never-ending tangent.

Henmi dropped the subject with a pout. “Aww, you could at least hear me out a little…”

“Yeah yeah, some other time.” They couldn’t waste time on long conversations at the office; the workplace was exactly that: a place for doing work.

For a moment, Kiris.h.i.+ma’s face popped into his mind; a pang shot through his chest when he considered all of the ridiculous stunts the guy had pulled thus far, but at least it hadn’t started to affect his job performance. As he saw it, though, the office was a place where one ought to avoid such extravagant displays, and he always made every effort to resist Kiris.h.i.+ma’s advances; it wasn’t like he gave involuntarily.

He then immediately realized, here, how desperately he was trying to excuse his actions, which only served to depress him even further.

“All right—but you definitely have to listen the next time we go out drinking!”

“Why on earth do you want to gab about her that much?”

“I dunno—I guess I just want others to share in my happiness?”

“Then h.e.l.l no,” he returned, immediately withdrawing his previous offer of drinks. Having just secured a girlfriend, Henmi seemed to be all but sprouting flowers from the top of his head.

“Ah, so mean!! You’re the one who asked, Yokozawa-san!”

“I never said I wanted to listen to you drone on and on about your girlfriend.” He’d asked what had Henmi in high spirits, sure, b