Shine in Summer's Glimmer, 2/6

[astrangestorm]

The washroom is unoccupied when Sho heads down for a quick shower in the morning. When he makes it back to his room to change into a t-shirt and swim trunks, he can also hear the shower going in his mother’s room. Unlike the day before, when Sho arrived at the house to discover she hadn’t yet made it out of bed, it seems that today will be one of Yukie’s better days.

By the time she comes down, Sho’s at least managed to make some toast and coffee. The pair of them sit at the table for a while longer after that, his mother insisting that they make some onigiri together to take to the beach with them. They make far more than is necessary for two people, so Sho suspects that his mother already considers Matsumoto, Nagase, and perhaps even Ohno-san part of her extended family.

His suspicions are confirmed when Matsumoto Jun emerges, dressed in a half-buttoned, colorful Hawaiian shirt and swim trunks, a pair of thick black glasses hiding his tired eyes. Sho somehow manages to keep a straight face at the sight of him. Even now in the morning, clearly having just tumbled out of bed a short time ago, there’s a gracefulness to the way Matsumoto carries himself, drifting through the room to the coffee pot.

“Good morning, Jun-kun,” Sho’s mother says quietly so as not to disturb their grumpy-looking host.

“Morning. I’d make my own, but yours is already done,” he mumbles, tucking a longer strand of hair behind his ear as he searches the cupboard for one of the guest mugs.

In that moment, Sho remembers Ninomiya-sensei’s warning not to bother Matsumoto until he’s had his coffee.

Yukie ignores that warning and starts to fuss immediately, getting out of her seat, full of morning murmurs. Have a seat, what can I make you, what kind of filling do you like in your onigiri? Sho rolls his eyes, wondering when his mother is going to remember that she’s the guest, not the host around here.

Matsumoto starts a fresh pot of coffee after stealing the rest of the pot Sho made, looking a little embarrassed. “Um, any filling is fine, Yukie-san. Thank you.”

She’s not too pleased with the wishy-washy answer, so she points to several she’s already made. “Have as many as you like. I’ve made some for Tomoya-kun and Satoshi-kun if they wish, but I can always make more.”

Matsumoto sits across from Sho with his mug, meeting his eyes and looking apologetic. He grins in reply.

They tell him their plans for the day, which mostly involves sitting at the beach with books and maybe going in for a swim. Matsumoto seems pleased to find himself useful once again. While Sho finishes making his own lopsided onigiri and Yukie finishes her perfect ones, Matsumoto explains the best places on the beach. Where the surfers will be, where the fewest people go, where to avoid the obnoxious teens who will be splashing each other.

He finishes his coffee and gets to his feet. “Let me grab you the chairs and umbrella, I’ll walk you over there.”

They clean up in the kitchenette just in time for Nagase to come downstairs, wrapping Sho’s mother up in a grateful hug when he sees all the portable food waiting for him. Sho panics for half a second, but Yukie goes with the flow and hugs him back. Sho almost can’t believe what he’s seeing. His mother’s always been affectionate enough as far as mothers go, but from the moment she’s stepped inside the Hidamari Guest House, she’s loosened up. She’s smiling, she’s teasing, she’s embracing strangers.

Well, after their meal together, Nagase-san’s not a complete stranger but still…

Nagase grabs a handful of onigiri and leaves with a cheerful smile, heading for the shed behind the guest house where he has his board locked up. The three of them follow shortly after once Sho’s mother has checked and double-checked and then triple-checked her beach bag for all her essentials. Hat. Sunglasses. Sunscreen. Book. Food. Water bottle. Magazine. Phone. Towels.

Matsumoto unlocks the shed and hauls out two sturdy looking beach chairs, wooden frames with white and red striped canvas material to sit on. The umbrella is navy blue, and he hands that over to Sho. The shed is locked up again, and Matsumoto’s soon leading the way.

“The ocean is waiting!” he declares, sounding more human again now that he’s had his massive mug of coffee.

Sho, umbrella in his arms and bag on his shoulder, brings up the rear, following Matsumoto and his mother down a cement path that leads to the next street. They need only cross that street before they make it to the beach. As they walk, their red Hawaiian-shirted tour guide points out a foot wash and water fountain as well as a small building with public restrooms.

“Of course, you can always come back to the house if you want,” he says, “I have been told that sometimes the ladies room runs out of toilet paper.”

“Good to know!” Yukie declares.

Matsumoto lets Yukie get ahead of them so she can scout out a place in the sand she finds most suitable. Sho walks at his side, toting the umbrella while Matsumoto carries their chairs.

“She’s doing well today,” Sho says.

“Looks like it. I’m glad.”

“Thank you for all you’ve done. All that you’re doing.”

“You’re my guests,” Matsumoto reminds him, looking over with a teasing smile. He’s squinting a little since he’s still wearing his glasses rather than a pair of sunglasses. It’s kind of cute.

“You’re welcome to join us…I mean, if you’re not busy.”

Matsumoto shakes his head. “Got some cleaning to do. But thanks.”

“If by that you mean you have to clean my room, you don’t have to…”

“Sho-san,” Matsumoto says in that teasing tone again. “I’m going to clean your room whether you like it or not. There’s a ‘Do Not Disturb’ tag hanging on the inside of your door, and unless you hang it on the outside, I’m going in.”

Sho didn’t even know that was there. “I don’t want to trouble you…”

“You sit at the beach. And I’ll do the job I’m paid to do.”

Sho’s still used to big chain hotels, to nameless housekeeping staff that go in and out when he’s not around. Staying at the Hidamari Guest House is really a first for him, knowing that Matsumoto Jun and only Matsumoto Jun will be dusting around his suitcases, scrubbing the tub and shower he used.

“Don’t have to change the sheets yet,” he mumbles, one final protest, earning a soft laugh in return.

They get the umbrella and chairs set out, and Matsumoto leaves them alone, but not before explaining in detail what he’ll be doing back at the house so Yukie has peace of mind. “Call me if you need anything,” he says before waving goodbye.

Sho sits down, sighing in relief once he’s gone and all he has to worry about is the lure of the waves.

He and his mother focus on their sunscreen, on relaxing under the umbrella. He leaves her behind a while, ditches his shirt and goes for a quick swim. She’s got an odd look on her face when he returns, toweling off and waiting for her to say something that will break his heart. That maybe this was a bad idea. That she’s been faking her happiness all day. That coming to Chiba was a mistake.

Instead Yukie waits until he’s sitting down again before she leans over, resting a gentle hand on his damp forearm.

“Sho-chan, I simply have to tell you this.”

“What is it, Mom?” he asks, trying not to sound overly concerned.

She leans even closer, her words almost drowned out by the merry sounds of their fellow beachgoers, the slap of waves against the shoreline.

“Jun-kun is single.”

That is…far from what he expected to hear. He looks at her in confusion, water sliding down his face from his still-wet hair. She’s got her sunglasses on, so he can’t really read her eyes. “Huh?”

She pats his arm once, twice before leaning back in her chair, letting out a pleased sigh. “We were chatting last night, I suppose I was talking about Maya or Sou and it must have come up then, goodness, I don’t even remember…”

“Mom,” he says a bit sharply.

“I didn’t pry, I don’t pry. I’m pretty sure this information was volunteered.”

“Mom, you didn’t say anything…we just got here…”

“Sho-chan. I just wanted you to know that. I didn’t say anything. I would never say anything.”

He groans, shutting his eyes and leaning more into the chair.

“But Jun-kun is single,” Yukie says again before digging in her beach bag for a book.

She doesn’t say another word.

/ / / / /

Sho’s fairly certain that his mother knew he was gay before he ever figured it out.

After all, she’d spent most of her adult life hiding her own truth. Her hospital stays, the weeks away from her children…they’d been some of the worst weeks of her life. And yet it had been hidden from Sho, from Maya and Sou, for years upon years.

He went out with his fair share of girls in high school, kissed a few, if only because it was what the other guys did. It wasn’t until his first year of university that he came to terms with what he really felt, what he really preferred. With his father’s job, the Sakurai family floated in some elite circles. Gossip could hurt their family, so Sho kept his personal life personal.

He’s never been ashamed of who he is, but he’s never wanted to cause problems for his parents either. He was a rebellious enough kid. He and a friend dyed their hair in his last year of junior high, and when he came home with a bright orange head, he was grounded. He followed that up with a devotion to loud hip-hop music, to slamming doors when he was pissed off. He would have gotten his belly button pierced in high school if Maya hadn’t ratted him out. But none of those things really had the potential to cause the Sakurai family any lasting damage.

It wasn’t until he was almost thirty that he spoke with his mother about it. About the reasons why he never brought anyone to family functions, about why he kept it all to himself. The last thing he wanted was for it to be yet another thing his mother would have anxiety about - her son who will never be able to marry the person he loves, to walk hand-in-hand with that person in public without worry or fear.

But instead Yukie had embraced him, had treated him no differently. She had been the one to sit by his side when he came out to Maya and Sou. She had sat by his side when he came out to his father, holding Sho’s hand and daring her husband to find any fault with the situation. Like most things his father finds unpleasant to discuss, Sho’s sexuality has never really been openly talked about in his presence since then. His father has always been civil, even welcoming when Sho’s brought a boyfriend home the last few years. But it’s Yukie who has always supported him most, Yukie who wants him to find a strong and lasting love as much as she wishes it for her other two children.

The problem with that, of course, is that sometimes his mother supports him a little too much.

It’s always been easy for Maya and Sou to find people to date. They need only meet someone at school, at work, on a group date. The process for Sho is a little bit more cumbersome. He’s lost count of how many times his mother has handed him a print-out from some dating site. It’s something she enjoys doing when she’s feeling good, something she has a little control over. Checking boxes, performing searches.

“How about this one?” Yukie will ask in total seriousness, handing over the results of her detective work. “He’s got a nice smile, how about him?”

She means well, so he’s never told her to stop. He doesn’t have the heart to tell his mother that he’s not attracted to every single man out there just because he’s gay. To be fair, the one time he did pursue one of the men his mother found, he ended up in a two-year relationship. But the way it ended, of course…

He feels a tug on the brim of his hat, waking him from his nap. The sun is no longer overhead, so he’s been out for a while.

They’re still at the beach, still in the chairs, still under the umbrella. Yukie’s looking at him with her usual motherly concern.

“I’ve called Jun-kun,” she says. “He’s coming here shortly and taking me for a walk. Will you come?”

She’s still got on her sunglasses, so he can’t see the craftiness in her eyes. To avoid worrying about her own illness, it seems that she’s putting her energy into trying to work miracles for her son. We have known him a grand total of one day, he wants to tell his mother. You don’t even know if he’s gay, he wants to tell his mother. And even if he is, you don’t know what he’s looking for in a partner, he wants to tell his mother.

I’m not sure I’m ready yet either, he thinks, feeling that uncomfortable flutter in his gut at the thought of opening up again, trying again. Trusting again. It’s been a long year, but sometimes it doesn’t feel long enough yet. That’s the anxiety talking, Ninomiya-sensei would probably say. But Sho’s not his patient. Nor is he in the mood to play along with his mother’s scheme.

“Have a nice walk. I’ll stay here and watch our things.”

He can see her mask her disappointment, but she doesn’t say anything. It’s another fifteen minutes before Matsumoto arrives, wearing the same clothes from earlier but with his baseball cap and sunglasses from the day before. He looks like a movie star, the type who might have an entourage, the kind of person who might have paparazzi following him. Gay or straight, Sho has a hard time imagining the two of them having much in common as friends, much less as something more.

“How’s the water today?” Matsumoto asks, holding his sandals in his hands, bare feet disappearing in the sand.

“Only Sho-chan’s gone in so far,” Yukie says, “but I finished a book.”

“Way to go,” Matsumoto says before looking over at Sho. “You coming?”

“Gotta save my energy in case I go surfing with Nagase-san tomorrow,” he says, knowing there’s at least an ounce of truth to it.

“You’re missing out. We’re going to see the camels.”

“The camels?”

Matsumoto brings his finger to his lips. In doing so, Sho notices for the first time that he has a dark beauty mark just beneath his lips.

“The camels are a secret,” Matsumoto says in a mysterious voice.

“The camels are a secret,” Sho repeats, trying not to laugh. “Have fun, Mom.”

He lets them walk off, pulling his cap back down over his eyes. He tries (and fails) to forget that adorable mark on his host’s face. He tries (and fails) to ignore how curious he is about what other ones might dot the rest of his skin. Sho’s brain is often betting against him, working for the enemy faction, deliberately causing him trouble. His imagination runs wild the more he tries to rein it in. What might be under that gaudy Hawaiian shirt? What might be inside those swim trunks?

“I’m doomed,” he grumbles to himself, leaving his shirt and cap behind on the chair and stomping off to plunge himself into the cool water.

/ / / / /

They go back to the house instead of coming back to get him, so Sho makes two trips hauling the umbrella, the chairs, and the two beach bags. He receives zero sympathy upon entering the house, finding Nagase-san in the kitchenette singing along to a portable radio. He’s got out a deck of cards, is playing solitaire in the cool breeze wafting through the house.

“Sho-san, welcome back.”

“How were the waves today?”

“Decent,” his fellow houseguest notes, slapping down a jack on one of the piles. “You coming tomorrow?”

“I think so.”

Nagase looks up, grinning. “It’s gonna be great.”

Sho thinks he’ll end up coughing up water most of the day, but he nods to be agreeable. “Seen my mother?”

“Upstairs having a nap.”

Then why is your music so loud, Sho almost asks before Nagase holds up a hand.

“I tried to turn it down,” Nagase says in his own defense, “but she said to leave it.”

He sighs. His mother only says those things to make other people happy. She often agrees to things she doesn’t like or want to do, if only to not cause trouble for others. But Sho doesn’t feel the need to explain that to Nagase, who has already gone back to singing along with the local rock station. His mother is trying her hardest on this vacation to be happy, and she’d be upset with Sho if he said or did anything that would make others treat her differently.

When he returns to his room he finds that his bed has been made, but he can tell that the sheets are the same. He smiles, knowing that Matsumoto at least registered his complaints. None of his stuff has been moved, and he finds fresh towels resting in a pile at the foot of the bed. He goes back downstairs and has a shower, Nagase’s music filtering under the door while he washes the ocean out of his hair.

Changing into clean clothes, he emerges to find Matsumoto Jun waiting for him in the kitchenette. Nagase is still playing cards against himself, but the music is far quieter. He’s not sure which of the men was responsible for it though.

Matsumoto is wearing that familiar, teasing smile. “Your mom said to show you the camels.”

He’s confused. Yet again. “What? Now?”

“She said if she showed you the pictures she took that you’d want to go immediately. You free now?”

“I was going to take a walk.”

“Then let me join you.”

Sho agrees, thankfully not stumbling over his words. It’s nearly 5:00 PM when he comes back down the stairs with his favorite worn-in sneakers in tow. He puts them on in the genkan and follows Matsumoto outside.

It’s just the two of them as they head back to the street that runs along the length of the beach. They go a few blocks before Sho finally says something.

“I’m not going to ride a camel if that’s what this camel thing is all about.”

Matsumoto chuckles. “No, no, it’s nothing as exciting as all that.”

“And yet here we are, walking to see it. Is it a camel petting zoo?”

“Nope.”

“Is it a giant camel? A larger-than-life camel?”

“I’m afraid not.”

Sho doesn’t have anything against camels, per se, but he’s never really had much interest in them as a member of the animal kingdom. He suspects that Yukie has used this mainly as an excuse to get the two of them talking. Barely twenty-four hours on the Chiba coast, and his mother’s hoping to play matchmaker.

But it’s not like Sho can turn to his host and say, “hey, my mom says you’re single. Want a blow job?”

Matsumoto interrupts his dark, perverted thoughts. “What’s so funny?”

Sho scratches the back of his neck, turning red. He realizes that he’s not doing a very good job hiding his feelings.

Sho knows that he’s good at speaking. He can strike up a conversation with just about anyone, doesn’t mind meeting new people. He’s never been shy.

The exception?

People he’s insanely attracted to.

“Just…just imagining larger-than-life camels descending on Chiba.”

Matsumoto laughs. “I feel like I have really hyped up this experience, and for that I’m really sorry, Sho-san.”

They make it to “the camels” a few minutes later, and Sho can’t help but laugh. Carrying their sneakers and socks, they walk to a raised dune in the middle of the beach. They’re just bronze statues, turned green with age. Not real camels. Not camels-set-for-petting. Nor are they preparing to attack Chiba. It’s just two camels. A bronze man sitting on the first bronze camel and a bronze woman on the second, both of them dressed for the desert sands of the Middle East.

“The Desert of the Moon,” Matsumoto announces, gesturing with all the precision and enthusiasm of a licensed tour guide. “Onjuku’s best attraction. Well, aside from the beach. You’ll find pictures of these camels all over town. It’s even on the sign at the train station.”

He shakes his head. “And my mother thinks I’d want to see this.”

“I don’t know,” Matsumoto teases, “you can still pet them. I can turn around if you don’t want me to look.”

He rolls his eyes. “Ha ha.”

“I guess there was some children’s song about it, and they put the statues here. I’m not an Onjuku native, so maybe Ohno-kun would know more.”

Sho takes that in. So Matsumoto Jun runs a guest house here, but he’s not from Onjuku. If Sho was having a normal conversation with a stranger, a conversation with someone whose moles and beauty marks he’s not interested in cataloguing with his eyes and maybe his tongue, he might easily ask where he’s from. He might easily learn more about his host.

Instead he walks up, pulling his phone from his pocket. But before he can snap a photo, he feels a firm, warm hand on his shoulder.

“You’re not going to get a good selfie at this distance,” Matsumoto chides him. Sho turns around, and Matsumoto’s not shy. He snatches the phone out of Sho’s hand and steps back. “Let me take some for you.”

Sho decides to play along. Matsumoto Jun might be straight. Matsumoto Jun might be gay. Matsumoto Jun might be a sexy alien sent to Earth from an alternate dimension, so what does it matter? It’s been a long time since Sho has dated anyone, much less hung out with someone he’s attracted to, so why not play along and enjoy their time alone. All that’s waiting for him back in Tokyo is work and an empty apartment, an equally empty dating calendar.

Once Matsumoto’s aiming the phone camera at him, Sho poses, resting a hand on the camel’s neck and smiling like a kid.

“Very nice,” Matsumoto says, the phone shutter going off a handful of times. “Keep it up.”

Sho ends up acting completely foolish, standing behind the camel’s ass and pretending to smell something foul. He sits cross-legged underneath the camel. He makes a kissy face up at the woman, and Matsumoto Jun is laughing the whole time, snapping photos.

“I think your mother will treasure these,” he admits, still laughing. It’s true enough.

Finally, a family with two little kids comes wandering over, and Sho’s silly photoshoot comes to an abrupt end. He walks over, taking his phone back. He looks through, sees that Matsumoto’s taken nearly fifty pictures.

“You didn’t have to take so many,” Sho mumbles.

“You’re a natural,” Matsumoto teases in reply. “The best camel and human shoot I think I’ve ever done for one of my guests.”

They linger for a while longer, Matsumoto volunteering to take photos of the whole family while they pose a bit more respectfully in front of Onjuku’s allegedly famous camels. When the family leaves, Sho’s just about to gather up the courage to ask if they should grab something to eat before heading back to the guest house.

Instead Matsumoto has another plan. “I need to grab a few things at the convenience store. If you wanted to go see the neighborhood shrines around here, I’m happy to point you in the right direction.”

Telling Matsumoto that he’d love to run boring errands with him instead would be strange, so Sho swallows down his disappointment. “Sure, whatever you recommend.”

After he receives thorough directions, they part ways. He makes it back to the street, tugging his socks and sneakers back on after using the foot wash. The shrines aren’t too different from any others Sho has visited in his life, and he refrains from praying for Matsumoto Jun to be less handsome, if only so he can carry on a normal conversation with him.

His mother has heated up leftovers in the kitchenette by the time he gets back, and he chats with her about the camels. He makes no effort to hide his nervousness, his disappointment in the abrupt end to his beachfront walk with their host. His demeanor is enough to keep his mother from asking any questions. They eat quietly, and he volunteers to clean up while Yukie heads off to call Maya and check in with her.

Sho lies in bed later that night, staring at his phone. Staring at the silly photos of himself standing in front of the Onjuku camels. And wondering if forty-eight enthusiastically-taken photos means something…or nothing.

/ / / / /

Miraculously, Sho doesn’t drown the following day. It’s been many years since he’s done anything more than swim in the ocean, so he sticks to the smaller waves, riding one of the shortboards Nagase-san was happy to lend him. Nagase himself, already a tall guy, is riding a longboard that’s twice his height.

It’s nice and almost soothing for Sho’s mind, focusing entirely on paddling out, waiting for the next wave to arrive. A little further down, Nagase hops on his board like a pro, letting out whoops and cheers as he dares and dares against each wave. Sho’s arms tire, and he takes breaks, drying off his hands so he can take photos of Nagase, of some of the other surfers dotting the shoreline.

After his speaking struggles the last few nights, Sho is almost grateful to have Nagase as a companion. He’s a handsome-enough guy, but not Sho’s type. Conversation between them flows easily. Nagase likes dirty jokes. Nagase likes trash talking the other surfers, most of them friends he’s met here in August for years upon years now. They trash talk him right back, their laughter rolling up and down the beach.

Nagase could probably spend his entire life in the water, but after several hours, he finally seems to tire. They have more onigiri that Yukie’s made, but Nagase shakes his head. “I need meat,” the man says decisively. “No offense to your mother, but I feel like I could eat an entire cow right now.”

Better a cow than one of the camels, Sho thinks. They leave the boards where they are. Even though Sho has the impression that Nagase’s surfboard collection isn’t cheap, his friends are trustworthy and will keep an eye on things. In their dripping-wet trunks they take only their wallets, heading further down the beach. It doesn’t take long before Sho can smell the place, and his mouth waters.

It’s a beach barbecue, or at least it smells like it, the air perfumed with the scents of grilled meat, vegetables, and seafood. It’s a large tent connected to the back of a restaurant. The tent is full of grills and smokers, a makeshift counter-top running along three sides. Some people are walking away with skewers or takeaway bags while others are dining right at the counter. There’s an ordering area on one side, and even though it’s the middle of the afternoon and long past lunch, there’s still a steady line of customers.

Triple Kitchen, the sign hanging from the white canvas tent proclaims. Land and Sea, Grilled for You! As they move closer to the front of the line, Sho can see there are a bevy of young people working, college-aged perhaps. There are cheerful young women in Triple Kitchen crop tops and shorts bringing food to the customers at the counter, noisy young men working all of the smoky charcoal grills.

The name of the place sounds familiar, and finally Sho remembers. Matsumoto had mentioned the place on the phone. From the smell of the place, no wonder he had recommended it. Sho can hear the man working the cash register before he sees him, a boisterous bellowing voice as he turns and calls out the orders to the workers at the grills behind him. They chant back the order to their boss in an entertaining shout, and despite all the noise, nobody at the counter seems bothered. In fact, the noisy workers seem to be just another part of the fun.

“We’ve got two hot dogs and a lobster tail!” the man shouts.

“Hot dog, hot dog, tail! Coming right up!” comes the reply from one of the grills. Despite all the shouting, it’s not actually as chaotic as it seems.

Sho can finally read the menu. Every single thing on it sounds good. Chicken skewers, pork skewers, beef skewers, veggie skewers. Burgers and dogs. Veggie burgers and veggie dogs. Chicken sandwiches, fish sandwiches. Grilled lobster tails. Grilled shrimp. And then Sho groans in happiness.

He looks up at Nagase. “Have you had the grilled clam platter?”

Nagase pats his shoulder, nodding. “Everything here is good. Everything, I swear. You’ll love it, get it. You gotta get it.”

Eventually they make it to the front of the line. It seems Nagase knows the owner, because the guy is already calling out an order before Nagase says a word. “That’s one of every skewer, and I’ll need them crazy!”

“Crazy chicken, crazy pork, crazy beef, crazy shrimp, crazy veg! Coming right up!”

Nagase steps aside, digging around for cash as the owner hands him a can of beer from a refrigerator beneath the counter beside him. Now that he’s not blocking the way, Sho gets his first full-on view of the man running Triple Kitchen like a noisy, but well-oiled machine.

And he’s absolutely gorgeous. He’s wearing the Triple Kitchen crop top in solidarity with his female employees, showing off a set of abs that makes Sho take a breath in appreciation. He’s perfectly tanned, tall and slim with a big smile to match his big, loud voice. He’s got dyed brown hair stuffed under a red and black Chiba Jets hat, although Sho’s never heard of such a team before.

“Hey, what can I get for you today?”

Nagase leans against the counter, tapping his finger. “This guy also gets the Hidamari Guest House discount.”

Cash Register Guy looks back at Sho, smiling even bigger, an achievement Sho hadn’t realized was possible. He’s never seen another human with such perfect teeth. “Another one of Matsujun’s guests! He’s gonna put me out of business.”

“You know that’s a lie,” Nagase jokes.

Cash Register Guy holds out his hand. “Aiba Masaki, welcome to Onjuku!”

“Sakurai Sho, I’ve been told your clam platter is good.”

Aiba-san looks proud. “It’s the best you’ll find along the coast, and if you don’t agree, your next meal is on me.”

“Hey,” someone calls out a few spots back in line. “Stop jabbering! Your customer service sucks!”

To Sho’s surprise, this makes Aiba-san even happier. Sho barely has time to dodge out of the way as Aiba’s finger points out at the person harassing him. “Yokoyama, just for that, you’re getting the extra spicy dip with your shrimp!”

“I hate you!” comes the reply, and many of the people in line and within the tent laugh. Apparently Triple Kitchen’s proprietor has an odd rapport with some of his customers.

Aiba’s voice returns to a slightly more normal volume. “Sorry about that, Sho-chan. Can I get you anything else with that platter?”

Sho-chan?! He’s known the guy maybe two minutes. But he goes along with it.

“I’ll take a beer.”

“You got it.” Aiba provides Sho with a price, far cheaper than expected. Perhaps it’s the Hidamari Guest House discount. As Sho digs around for coins, Aiba’s voice is back to its loudest volume. “Clam special and a big pint!”

“One big clam and a pint of happy, coming right up!”

Aiba nods his head, giving Sho his change without missing a beat. “Thanks for stopping by. Enjoy!”

And then Nagase’s tugging him along, away from the ridiculously handsome guy at the register and down to one of the few remaining open spots at the counter. The noise really does add to the experience, Aiba’s shouts and the echoed replies in whatever strange menu shorthand Triple Kitchen has. Everything smells delicious, and Sho nearly bursts into tears when a smiling server brings over his and Nagase’s food. His first bite of clam is absolutely perfect.

Nagase laughs at him, nibbling on one of his skewers. Each of them is covered in a spicy-looking burst of colored seasonings. Presumably the “crazy” part of the skewer.

They finish their food, and Sho’s the happiest he’s been since they’ve arrived, belly full. Given the extensive menu, he might spend every day at Triple Kitchen if he can, especially if the owner is manning the register.

Once their food settles, the surfing continues for a little while longer until Sho is exhausted. Nagase decides to stay with his friends, and Sho totes the shortboard back to the house. He finds Matsumoto there in the yard, watering the flowers he’s planted in neat little pots and planters around the house.

“Mind unlocking the shed for me?”

Matsumoto turns, looking him up and down very quickly, and Sho thinks the sun’s playing tricks on him. Because otherwise it means that Matsumoto Jun just checked him out.

Definitely the sun.

“Of course, no problem.” There’s no nervousness in Matsumoto’s voice, so maybe Sho’s red swim trunks are just an eyesore. Maybe Matsumoto’s not that impressed with how Sho’s arms look in the tank top he’s wearing.

He locks the board up in the shed for Nagase to find later, and he sits on the back steps, watching as Matsumoto continues to methodically tend to his plants. “I met your friend,” Sho says, brushing his finally-dry hair out of his eyes.

“I have a lot of friends,” Matsumoto replies, setting down his watering can. He lifts the cap from his head, wiping a bit of sweat from his brow before putting it back on.

“Nagase-san and I had lunch at Triple Kitchen. Met your friend Aiba-san.”

Sho is surprised when Matsumoto immediately looks away, picking up the watering can and dumping the remainder in the grass. “Great. They’ve got a lot of good stuff there.”

“They do. I tried the clam platter. Really…really delicious,” Sho continues, confused by Matsumoto’s reaction. He watches him unlock the shed once again to put away the watering can. Each gesture is a bit rough - yanking the keys from the pocket of his shorts, undoing the lock, tugging the stubborn door open.

What’s happened to the Matsumoto Jun of the last two days? Even groggy in the morning, there was an elegance, a sophistication to every move, every gesture. If Sho didn’t know any better, he’d say that Matsumoto has suddenly grown extremely angry, even if it’s not visible in his face.

Sho is pretty sure that Matsumoto had mentioned Triple Kitchen on their phone call last week. Why would he recommend the place if there was something about it that bothered him?

“Owner guy’s a bit strange, huh?” Sho says, unable to keep from talking. He doesn’t want his mother to see their host like this. Matsumoto’s still in the shed, putting the watering can away. “I didn’t even order my food, and he was already calling me ‘Sho-chan.’”

Matsumoto comes back out, and Sho’s startled by how tense he’s gotten. There’s a tightness in his shoulders. His movements are slow as he locks the shed up again. His voice is cold. “He’s a friendly guy, Aiba-san.”

“He was kind enough to give me the Hidamari Guest House discount, whatever that is. If it’s something you’ve negotiated, thank you very much.”

“I didn’t negotiate anything,” Matsumoto snaps, and finally Sho shuts his trap.

What has he said? What has he done? There’s a very different man standing in the yard now, stalking through the grass, searching for the occasional weed and yanking them up with his bare hands, foregoing gardening gloves that might make the task easier on his skin.

Sho gets to his feet. Something he’s said has put his host in a sour mood. Triple Kitchen? Aiba-san? He doesn’t know. But he’s fucked up, and he feels rotten about it.

“Nagase-san said he’s staying at the beach with his friends a while longer. Not too sure when he’ll be getting back.” Sho stands there on the steps awkwardly, watching Matsumoto prowl around for weeds. “As for me…as for me, I’m going to clean up. Was a good day out there.”

Matsumoto doesn’t respond.

“Okay. Well, have a good…afternoon.”

He goes into the house, hoping he hasn’t screwed things up with his host entirely.

/ / / / /

The next morning, the rain arrives. It comes early, and Sho can’t help sleeping in. The kitchenette is empty when he heads downstairs to use the toilet, and he frowns. There’s no food wrapped up and waiting. The clock on the wall reads 10:47 AM, and his mother has clearly not come down yet.

He makes some toast, some coffee, wondering if anyone upstairs or anyone behind the other door will come in to have any. The minutes tick by, the rain pours outside, and Sho finishes his sad breakfast alone.

He climbs the stairs. He can hear the soft sounds of Nagase’s portable radio on the other side of his door. In case of rain, he and his surfing friends were planning to drive inland, meet up with some other people for a meal. He’s likely waiting for someone to come pick him up.

He heads to his mother’s door, putting his ear to it. He can’t hear anything, so he knocks softly. Waits. He knocks again. Waits.

“Mom,” he says, “Mom, is it alright if I come in?”

He softly turns the handle, just to see if it’s unlocked. Thankfully, it is.

“Mom, it’s me,” he announces, closing his eyes as he turns the handle and heads in, just in case she hasn’t gotten dressed yet. “Mom, you up?”

He cracks an eye open, seeing the Yukie-shaped lump in the bed. She’s breathing, and he can see her chest rise and fall. He closes the door, but not before hanging the ‘Do Not Disturb’ tag on the handle. He frowns, softly moving across the room to the chest of drawers. He finds the pill organizer, sees that she’s taken everything properly except for this morning’s pills. Her planner is beside the vase of flowers, and he opens it, sees that she didn’t make any entry the evening before except noting that she took her pills.

Sho turns, looks back at the bed. Rattling her pills around has woken her, and she’s watching him with tired eyes. He moves back, sitting on the mattress.

“Hi Mom, how are you?”

“I was better yesterday,” she says quietly, and a little of the dullness has crept back into her eyes. Not the dullness he saw that day at the supermarket, she hasn’t gone down that much, but she’s noticeably different this morning. The sunshine has gone, and perhaps with it has gone the optimism that started their trip here.

“Can I get you a glass of water? Then we can get your morning pills taken care of.”

“I know I have to take them,” she admits, blanket curled around her slim form. “I know.”

“Well, I’m here,” he says softly. “Let me get a glass.”

He gets up, checks in the bathroom and finds a glass near the sink that she’s been using already. He fills it and comes back, dumping out the pills into his palm and going back to her.

“I don’t feel like lifting my head just yet,” she says, and he nods, setting the glass on the nightstand and the pills as well.

“That’s okay. I’ll sit with you a while.”

She shifts a little, clearly upset with herself. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Mom.”

“Jun-kun was going to make dinner tonight. Satoshi-kun was going to come by.”

Sho tries to smile. “That’s hours and hours away. Plenty of time for you to rest and relax until then.”

“Maybe I’ll be hungry then,” she says, looking for something positive to say. “Not sure if I’ll be much use in the kitchen.”

“Matsumoto-san seems to enjoy cooking. There’s no harm in letting him do the work.”

“We didn’t get to chat a lot yesterday. Please tell him I’m sorry about that.”

When his mother is sinking back under the waves, even the slightest bit, every other word out of her mouth is an apology. Sometimes they’re light apologies, like this one. And when things get really bad, she starts apologizing for being alive. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem like his mother is likely to be saying anything like that this morning.

She’s just in need of quiet and calm, so Sho gets a bit more comfortable, sitting there and talking. He decides not to talk about his awkward encounter the day before with Matsumoto. Instead he talks a bit about the book he’s reading. It’s something his father recommended, so she seems to perk up a bit. He told her about surfing yesterday, so when his book chatter runs out of steam, he shares about work. She likes to hear about his students, especially the overachievers. She likes to cheer them on from a distance.

He sits there for maybe half an hour before Yukie turns a little. “Maybe I’ll sit up.”

He gets off the bed so she can move more easily under the blanket. He helps her to sit up, getting a pillow behind her. Her eyes are wet, but her tears don’t spill out.

“I’m sorry, Sho-chan.”

“It’s okay, Mom,” he says, moving to her glass. “I can get you some cold water if you’d prefer.”

“It’s fine, don’t trouble yourself on my account,” she replies.

He hands her the pills one by one, watches her swallow them down with the lukewarm water. “Would you like me to call Ninomiya-sensei?” he asks once she’s taken them all. “Would you like to chat with him?”

“He told me that it’ll be a week or two before we’ll know that the new dosages are effective. I don’t want to be a bother to him when he probably has people who need him more.”

It aches when she speaks this way. It aches because no matter what Sho says, Yukie will believe that what she’s saying is true. That she doesn’t matter as much as anyone else. That she is troublesome, a burden.

“I might give him a call, just to update him. If that’s alright.”

She nods. “If you do, please give him my regards. And Tomoko-san as well.” Ninomiya’s sweet receptionist.

“Of course I will.” He sits down again, wishing he knew how to fix things. He’s seen her worse, far far worse, but knowing the woman she can be when she’s healthy and seeing the woman she is when she’s not…it just feels like the universe is cruel.

“If I rest,” she says, “I will probably feel better in time for dinner.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “I put the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door, so Matsumoto-san will not come in. Do you need anything? Towels? Sheets? Anything? I’m happy to ask him for whatever you might need.”

She smiles weakly. “Tell him I’m sorry about that. I know he prefers to clean in the morning once he’s had his coffee.”

“He has other rooms to clean,” Sho assures her. “He might appreciate the little break.”

“He’s a good boy, just like you.”

“Neither of us are boys any longer, Mom,” he says, embarrassed. “We’re in our thirties.”

She reaches out her hand, strokes along his cheek. “You’re so good to me. You’re always so good.”

“I want you to be well. I want you to be happy.”

“Complain all you like, but you’ll always be my boy. Sou-chan too. No matter how old you get.”

Sho decides not to remind his mother that his baby brother is a full thirteen years younger than him, has only been an adult a few years. But maybe his mother’s words will seem more sensible when he’s her age.

“I’ll let you rest then. But if you need anything…”

“Go,” she says, her hand dropping away from his face, blinking back tears. “Go. Don’t worry about me. Don’t worry at all. I’ve had my pills. I’m doing my best.”

“You always do your best. I’m proud of you.”

She smiles again. “I’m sorry to ruin your vacation.”

He has nothing to say that will change what she thinks, so he leans forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead and gets up. He goes out into the hall, closing the door behind him, letting out an exhausted sigh.

He can see Matsumoto Jun at the end of the hall, and he straightens up, walks away from his mother’s door. They haven’t spoken since yesterday, since the strangeness in the yard. There’s no anger in Matsumoto’s face today, and he stays where he is near the top of the stairs, letting Sho approach him so they can talk without disturbing Yukie.

“Is everything alright?”

“It’s a slower morning,” Sho admits, hating himself for finding another beauty mark as he stares, a pair of them. One above Matsumoto’s lip, one on the lip itself. That’s three now, in that glorious general vicinity.

“You put the door tag out. I won’t bother her, I promise,” Matsumoto says, eyes utterly serious. They’re both quiet for a moment before Matsumoto speaks again. “I’m sorry, Sho-san.”

He shakes his head. “She’s on new medication. Well, mostly the same, some changes in dosages. Ninomiya-sensei said it might take a week or two for her to readjust. If she’s not feeling better then, I suppose that’s when I’ll have cause to worry about her. Today’s just a low day after a rather steady chain of higher ones.”

“I see,” Matsumoto replies. “Does she need anything? I can make her a lunch tray, can bring it up here and if she’d prefer, you can bring it in…”

“She usually doesn’t have much of an appetite,” Sho admits. “I’m sure she’ll bounce back soon.”

“Anything I can do. Anything at all. Please don’t hesitate to ask.”

He looks up, looking past the dark frames of his glasses and meeting Matsumoto’s soft brown eyes straight on. He forgets the moles, forgets everything else. He wants to ask what he did to upset him yesterday. He wants to ask, wants to know so that he doesn’t offend the man again. He wants to earn his trust after all he’s done to easily earn Sho’s. Maybe he also wants the teasing Matsumoto back, the man who took his photo, the man who called him Sleeping Beauty.

“Thank you,” he says instead. “Thank you very much for being so considerate to my family.”

“Of course.” Their eyes hold for a few moments more, but Sho eventually can’t handle it any longer.

Sho clears his throat. “Has Nagase-san already headed off?”

“Yes, his friends came just a while ago. I was coming up to tidy your rooms.”

“You don’t have to…”

Matsumoto steps away from the stairwell, walking quietly down the hall. He walks all the way to Sho’s door, poking at the handle. There’s no ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign to be found, and he sighs noisily.

“Do I still have time to put the sign out?”

“I’m afraid not,” Matsumoto teases, though with a bit less bite than usual. “Hidamari Guest House policy says I’m going in.”

“Don’t change the sheets,” Sho complains.

Matsumoto shakes his head. “You’ve already been here three nights. Hidamari Guest House policy also states that sheets get changed automatically on day four.” He’s got a quirk to his perfect mouth when he speaks again. “Who doesn’t like clean sheets?”

He raises his hands in frustration. “Do what you want.”

Matsumoto’s soft laugh follows him down the first few stairs, and Sho contents himself with some TV while he hears Matsumoto diligently cleaning, dusting, and vacuuming upstairs.

Part Three