Plin Ch 5.12

Plin thought he had been happy when he lived in this house. That is, if a person’s feelings could be calculated arithmetically. There were no moments of extreme joy, nor any moments of extreme sorrow, so perhaps he was about 30 happy, and now… he was about 1000 happy and 1500 sad, meaning he was about 500 unhappy.

But did that even make sense? Was it right that 1000 of the 1500 unhappiness was cancelled out by happiness, leaving the remaining 500 unhappiness behind?

Plin realized he was calculating whether it would have been better if he had never met Hugo at all.

Still, it had been wonderful to have experienced that kind of love. Because for a time, he had been overwhelmingly happy.

He had seen a scene like this somewhere before. A colorblind person puts on corrective glasses and sees the world in color for the first time outside. The bright blue sky, the yellow and red leaves fluttering down, and the faces of the people they loved.

At first, the person looked around in wonder, then smiled, and finally, began to sob. That must have been due to being overcome by awe. And perhaps there was a touch of regret for the time spent without knowing that beauty.

The time I loved Hugo was like that. I realized there truly were beautiful emotions in the world. I realized I was someone capable of love. I realized I had been lonely. Every moment was so vivid it made my heart race. My life up until then felt as if it had been covered by gray cellophane. Only after meeting Hugo did I begin to live, feeling genuine emotions surge through me.

Even though right now I was hiding from Hugo’s shadow, back in my old house, crying alone….

“Umm…”

Plin startled at a sound from afar and stood up, only to stumble and fall as his footing slipped. There was a loud crash.

Plin bit his lip and looked toward the source of the noise. There was a mountain of blankets piled high on the bed. Someone was sleeping there.

Someone was living here!

After briefly considering whether to flee immediately or apologize right then, he squeezed his eyes shut and shouted.

“I’m so sorry! I’m not a strange person, I’m the previous owner, and I was told the place wasn’t occupied, so I just popped in because the door was open. I didn’t pick the lock with a key or anything! I’m so sorry. I’ll leave now.”

“…Plin?”

Plin, still prostrate on the floor, slowly raised his head. The man sat up on the bed and walked over.

The face he had thought he only wanted to see one last time appeared before him. This was how he had looked. The clarity was different from the image he had sketched a thousand times in his mind.

He had hair of a rare, jet-black color and deep, emerald eyes. His features were neat, yet the fact that he only had a dimple on one side or that the corner of his mouth was slightly upturned created a subtly rebellious impression. There was a unique aura about him, as if an artificial intelligence could not replicate such a face if it were trying to draw beauty.

The face he hadn’t seen in a long time was still handsome, but his lips were chapped, and his cheeks had sunken further. Cruelly, he found some solace in the realization that he hadn’t been the only one who had suffered.

“Why is the Executive Director here….”

“…It really is Plin.”

His height and build cast a large, cavernous shadow. Plin looked only at the shadow and replied.

“If I had known the Executive Director was here, I wouldn’t have come.”

“I know. You came here because that house was so empty, right?”

“…I’ll go now.”

“Have a cup of tea before you go. It’s cold outside.”

He wondered if the reason he couldn’t refuse the offer was because of some lingering regret deep in his heart.

“Coffee? Cocoa? I have black tea, too.”

As Plin sat down in the chair, Hugo asked, clearly pleased.

“Cocoa, please.”

Hugo nodded, then turned around. Now that he looked, Hugo was wearing flannel pajamas. Sometimes Hugo slept completely naked, and other times he wore soft, cozy pajamas. If he were just a guest stopping by briefly, he certainly wouldn’t be dressed like this. He had been so startled earlier that he hadn’t stopped to think deeply about how Hugo had come to be sleeping in someone else’s bed.

He realized Hugo must have been the naive person who bought this dilapidated house for such an exorbitant price. A bitter smile touched his lips for some reason.

The sound of water being poured into the kettle followed, a clinking noise. The kitchen utensils were also the exact same ones Plin had used.

Soon, Hugo returned carrying two mugs of cocoa. Plin fiddled with his mug. The old mug, bought at a one-penny shop, was chipped, and the damaged part had a faint lime-green stain. This was indeed his property.

“Why are you staying in this house?”

“…As you might have guessed, this is also my house. A slightly cold house.”

Hesitantly, Hugo spoke in a joking tone and shrugged his shoulders slightly. He licked his lips and asked.

“Have you been… well? It’s good to see you after so long.”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

It had been a week since the Swan party. For lovers, perhaps it was a long time, but not for others.

“It felt like a long time to me.”

An awkward smile played around Hugo’s lips. He ultimately failed to control his expression and pressed his lips shut. She didn’t want to pity the sight of him lowering his head and letting out a small sigh.

The arrogant, slick man of the past was gone; he was serious and anxious. Perhaps he looked even more so because of his gaunt face.

The two of them drank cocoa for a long time without saying anything. It was sweet and warm, but neither had the time to taste it. It was merely liquid passing over the tongue.

When Plin saw undissolved grains of cocoa powder at the bottom of the mug, she stood up.

“Thank you for the drink. I’m leaving now.”

“Plin.”

Hugo stood up to follow her. Without meeting his eyes, Plin spoke in a rapid-fire rush.

“I didn’t drink this because I had things to discuss with the Managing Director. I just drank it to warm up because it’s cold outside. You know how easily I get cold. Besides, the landlord recommended it, and I was trespassing, so it felt rude to refuse. We’re strangers now; we should be even more polite to each other.”

Plin wanted to shut his own mouth, which was rambling on without regard for what it was saying. Hugo, who usually didn’t even listen to people finish their sentences, listened to Plin’s incoherent babbling until the very end this time.

“I haven’t been able to sort out my feelings for a whole week. I-I can’t stop.”

Anxiety colored Hugo’s eyes. The fingers resting on the table trembled slightly.

“I told you. Andrea, especially, shouldn’t have done that to me.”

Plin spoke coldly, as if spitting the words out. He puffed out his chest and pouted his lips. He regretted not just leaving coldly without drinking the tea. He had to push him away this time too. He couldn’t let himself be deceived by pointless lingering emotions and suffer through the same turmoil again. It was his own foolishness.

“…You were wagging your tail when you saw me earlier.”

“…That’s just what I do when I see someone I know.”

“I missed you.”

Hugo did not take his eyes off Plin’s face, as if he didn’t want to miss a single moment.

“I know whatever I say will sound like excuses and justifications. But still… I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

The two stood facing each other across the table. Hugo took another step closer to Plin, but Plin backed away by the same amount.

“If you have money, you can buy a person’s affection, and you can even buy back a lost sibling…”

He looked up, meeting Hugo’s eyes squarely this time. A feeling of disappointment and resentment, like water filling a well, began to rise in his brown eyes.

Hugo faltered at Plin’s justified anger.

“It was wrong, but I was protecting you in my own way. I know now. I truly thought about it the wrong way.”

“It was the sickness from the past trauma. If you had told me about it, I would have just helped you. Why? Didn’t I even tell you that I could be helpful? Even after we started dating, I truly still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me until then.”

Unable to hide his feelings, Plin panted for breath. Hugo seemed hurt by Plin’s words and was momentarily speechless.

“I guess… I was just afraid.”

“I’m leaving soon.”

“…Liar.”

“A friend introduced me to a part-time job at the Dolanche ski resort, and I’m going to work there all winter.”

“Dolanche?”

Hugo looked at Plin with an expression of disbelief.

“It’s time for me to face reality too. I don’t have a rich lover who pays for things and buys me a house anymore, and I probably won’t be able to make the fox drink for a while… They say the pay is great because I’ll be dealing with tourists.”

“How can you be so nonchalant? It’s only been a few days.”

Plin bit his lip hard and replied quietly in a weak voice.

“Nothing in my life has ever been easy for me.”

“Just once, please give me a chance.”

Pain was embedded in the syllables he spat out as if squeezing them from his throat.

“…I’m leaving.”

Plin immediately turned around. Not knowing how he was walking, he strode forward, telling himself that once he got out of this house, he could pour out all the feelings he was holding inside.

Hugo, who had followed behind him, firmly embraced Plin.

“Ah! Executive Director…”

“Just a moment. Let’s stay like this for a moment. You said it was the last time.”

Plin’s shoulders gradually grew damp. Hugo let go before Plin could push him away.

“Take this.”

What he held out to Plin was a sheaf of checks neatly organized in a metal money clip. Even at a glance, countless zeroes were stamped upon them.

“Why are you giving me money…?”

“It will be hard work when you go to the tourist area. Prices are high there, so high you’d begrudge buying a single cup of tea. Dolanche is cold, so wear warm clothes, and if you catch a cold, be sure to go to the hospital…”

Plin stared blankly at the money. Money… It was money with an unknown purpose—whether it was charity or bait.

“Just take this one thing. I won’t hold you back anymore.”

The hand he offered was desperate. Plin lowered his eyebrows and finally took the money.

Since it was a small house, it took only a few seconds to reach the front door and step outside.

Not a single word he had spoken to Hugo was insincere.

They were words he was saying to himself. Because if he saw him one more time, he felt he would want to embrace him then.

His steps toward the station were heavy. The scenery was hard to see through his blurred vision of tears. Several people glanced at him as if he were a strange person.

Plin never once looked back, nor did he notice Hugo, who was reluctant even to step in the footprints of the person who had now become his ex-lover, following behind.

***