To The Soul Drifting Out At Sea

Rain fell in itermitent sheets, smearing away the clarity of the world so that only their room felt true. Shivers were still causing Kaho’s shoulders to shake as Shuhei inhaled.

“Want to sit in the bed? So you can get under the covers?” he wrote.

Kaho nodded and he helped her up from the floor. She noticed he was using his left hand, and her fingerips slowly reached for his scar before slowing. He didn’t recoil, but at the last second she stopped.

“I’m sorry I never asked you about it,” she wrote.

“We can talk about it now,” he said with a forlorn smile.

Once Kaho was on the futon, she slid under the covers and blanket. Shuhei padded his pillow against the wall and sat beside her. After a few slow breaths, he looked to Kaho.

“Do you need a moment? We don’t have to talk now. I’m sorry if that was too much just then,” he wrote.

“No, it wasn’t too much. I’m just a little confused. I was bracing for you to break up with me. But I want to read what you want to tell me. So, please continue.”

It was almost as though he wanted her to stop him, but he also knew he needed to clear all of this before allowing himself to have any form of hope that they might have a future together. As painful as it was, he knew it needed to be done.

“My mom left us when I was young. It was just my dad and me for a decade. He never made a lot, and things were always hard. We were poor, living in Sanya. I wanted to help, so I went to school for finance. I got my degree, and landed at a big international firm. It was tough, and I wasn’t making a lot, but I had hopes that one day I’d make it and be able to finally help him.”

Kaho could already feel where this was heading, and a pit in her stomach began to build.

“But then one day he died on the train. Right in his seat. He was sleeping after an eleven hour shift, and his heart just gave out. Just like that.”

Shuhei wiped his eye and continued to write.

“Forty-one years in the workforce, with almost no retirement waiting even if he had made it. But instead, he died alone and exhausted, surrounded by strangers.”

Kaho’s hand slid from the covers to find Shuhei’s arm. Streaks of rain drops’ shadows ran down his face and chest as he gathered himself to continue.

“And that broke me. It broke something in my spirit. I decided that would never be me. I would find a way to make enough money so that I’d never have to work when I was older. So I reached out to Reiji. We’d grown up together, and he was connected to yakuza. He was taking over a host club and thought I’d be a good fit. I signed a bad contract, but it still allowed me to make a good amount of money. And I did. I became… Shuhei.”

So far, none of this was overly terrifiying for Kaho.

“At first I focused on pure host work. Occasionally, there would be one-offs; clients we knew wouldn’t be coming back so there was no point trying to cultivate long term relationships. If they asked, I’d sleep with them. And they’d pay me for it. It wasn’t often, but it did happen.”

“I didn’t care. I just wanted more money. I didn’t care what that meant for me… or for those girls.”

His hands were shaking now.

“Before the laws changed, people could get into real bad situations in clubs. I thought I wasn’t a part of that and thought that all my customers had their lives together. They all said they did. But then a year ago I saw a prostitute near the hotel and I recognized her…”

“She’d been a regular of mine, and had built up fifteen million yen of debt to Reiji. That was how she was repaying him. When I found out, I immediately paid it off and tried to get her help. But it was too late. A week after I did that, she jumped in front of a train.”

A single tear fell onto the notebook.

“I watched my dad suffer and die alone, and hated the ones that had caused that. I wanted it to never happen to me, but I ended up leading someone else down a path worse than my dad’s. And it really fucked me up. I spent ten months trying to tell myself it wasn’t my fault. But then one night in December, I couldn’t take it anymore.”

As Kaho read, his right hand absentmindedly covered his left wrist.

“So you tried to kill yourself? That’s why you were in Nikko?” Kaho asked.

Shuhei nodded.

“I slit my wrist three times, but as I was bleeding out, I realized I wanted to live. I wanted to get better. So I burned the wound shut, cut off the circulation, and called 119. I got to Nikko and only wanted to stabilize myself so that I could come back to Tokyo and finish my plan. I had ¥700,000,000 already, and only needed another ¥100,000,000. But then you came back into my life…”

Now he was facing her. Vulnerability and humiliation were now covering his body the way scars covered hers. His mouth moved slow so that she could read his lips.

“You came back, and day by day, everything else faded. I don’t want to be a host anymore. I don’t care about my plan. I just want to buy out the remainder of my contract and never look back. I just want a simple life where I can spend time with you.”

His shoulders lowered as his eyes finally looked away. Kaho let the information wash over her as she processed all of the revelations and clarity.

Neither moved. Outside, the rain was beginning to pass.

Her shivers had calmed. Each breath felt closer to normalcy. There were so many things she wanted to say, but all she could think of was a simple gesture. Heavy acceptance hung over his shoulders as he stared at the blanket pattern.

Kaho tapped his leg and he raised his head, bracing for the end.

But Kaho simply circled her face once again.

“You are beautiful,” she signed.

Pounds of heartbeats burst through Shuhei’s chest as he watched her hands.

“If you didn’t mean for that to happen, then you aren’t a bad person. You can forgive yourself, Shuhei.”

Her words shocked him.

“You don’t detest me?” he asked as his jaw tensed.

Kaho shook her head.

“No. I cherish you,” she replied.

Grief finally stepped aside and allowed the first glimmers of peace to appear in Shuhei’s soul. As the waves of new emotion washed over him, he slid onto his back to lay beside Kaho. Stray tears fell from them both as their hands met beneath the fabric. Together, they laid in silence as the last shadows of raindrops drifted from the window onto the ceiling.

Exhaustion overtook them, and a minute later they were both asleep. From the depths of dreams, Kaho’s body pulled itself closer to Shuhei until her head came to rest on his chest.