A few weeks later, I have prepared everything I need to talk to Iwamoto. I am currently waiting for him to get out of the bathroom.
The busy season is finally over, Iwamoto said this morning with a beaming face. He said he has tomorrow off. I don't want to keep him up late at night and disturb his work, so this is the perfect opportunity.
The days are getting colder, lately, he has also started wearing a T-shirt and blouson. The brown blouson is nothing special, but it looks really da*n good on him. Oh, how I admire him smiling in that blouson under the morning sun.
Iwamoto is perhaps the most beautiful creature I have ever seen in my life. No one has ever and will ever catch my eye more than him.
I spread some papers out on the dining table and look around the room. In front of a large TV is a dark gray leather sofa that is too big for one person to sit on. Since I've become conscious of my feeling, I've never dared myself to sit by Iwamoto's side again.
I remember choosing that sofa at a furniture store, stubbornly believing that Iwamoto and I will continue to sit side by side together for a long time. How innocent I was back then. It feels more repugnant now than nostalgic reminiscing that.
I preferred to sit on the chair by the dining table and idly watch Iwamoto watching TV. Every once in a while he would wrinkle his nose and turn his head around to laugh with me. He would sometimes comment about this celebrity or that celebrity and other casual talks. Seeing him that happy is enough for me.
Fortunately too, since I've become aware of my unusual obsession toward Iwamoto, I have not had the opportunity to touch him. His menstruation, which had just ended, was relatively light. He did not ask me for a massage. That's good because I don't know how my face will make if I had to.
Once again, I look down at the document in front of me.
It is what I spent several weeks looking for: A house just for Iwamoto. I chose something inexpensive, spacious, nice, and close to his work. I am going to show this to him and tell him to get out of here.
Somehow, getting the strength to tell him takes me almost a month.
Perhaps somewhere in my heart, I still wish to spend as much time as possible with Iwamoto. The warmth he left on the sofa, the fragrance of his scent as we pass by each other, and the happy days I will never forget. I want to keep tasting the nectar that drips down from him like rainwater in a bowl.
But my lust for him only increased. I dream of Iwamoto every day. When I saw his clothes in the laundry basket, that alone excited me. It bothers me no matter where he is in this house. The sound of him showering, the sound of him laying out the futon in his room. My ears and all my nerves follow him despite my hard effort to stop it. So, this is it. Let's stop. It will not be good for either Iwamoto or me to continue living together.
I hear the bathroom door is opened. Iwamoto is changing now. He will be here soon.
There are a lot of utensils in the kitchen that I don't know how to use. A red pressure cooker, a food processor, and a vegetable drainer. I bought them over Iwamoto's request. Today's meal was also delicious. He made pork stew using a pressure cooker, which he said he had learned from his boss' wife. He remembered that I had told him I liked it.
Suddenly I become terrified.
I don't want to.
I don't want this.
I want to pretend this all never happened. Just throw away all these sh*t papers. Forget about them. Then treat Iwamoto the same way I've always treated him. Right, what's wrong with that? Do my dreams cause trouble for someone? No one knows that I comfort myself by imagining Iwamoto naked. I should just shut up. I still want to be with him.
I can still...
Maybe it's not too late to...
"The bathroom is free, Sensei."
However, the moment I see Iwamoto's face, I definitely need to make him leave.
"Hey, Sensei, what are you doing, is everything okay?"
Iwamoto walks to me with a towel on his head as usual. He looks at me from under his wet bangs. He seems honestly surprised by my appearance. What kind of face do I have now?
Before I know it, I can't look Iwamoto straight in the eye anymore.
"...Sensei?"
But I've made up my mind.
"I need to talk to you, Iwamoto-san."
I tell Iwamoto as he stands by the dining table.
"What's the matter, Sensei?"
Iwamoto tilts his head and peeks at me, probably worried.
"Huh, what's this?"
Iwamoto picks up the paper I had crumpled on the table.
"It's a property."
Iwamoto's movements stopped. He must be catching on to what I'm trying to tell him.
"Iwamoto-san..."
"..."
Iwamoto looks again at the documents he had picked up, not moving. I can't see his face clearly because of the towel on his head. Droplets fall from his black hair and get lost on his cheeks.
"I'm sorry for suddenly telling you this despite I was the one who asked you to live with me...but I need you to leave."
Iwamoto still doesn't react.
"Of course, you don't have to leave right away," I say. "And this... I got quite a nice house. I'll pay for it. It's to your liking, simple with a huge bathroom. It's also close to the Construction Company you're working at now."
I feel uneasy at Iwamoto's silence. Is he mad at me? I guess that's the normal reaction.
"Ah, it's not you. All your cooking was delicious, it was so much fun living with you too. Besides, isn't this what you wanted from the start? A life of your own? Sorry for interfering with your plan. Nothing's wrong with you. It's just me...I have some personal reasons..."
I have no control over myself and am afraid of doing something stupid, because I fell in love with you.
Da*n, I start hyperventilating.
"I'm sorry..."
In the end, I crouch down, breathing shallowly. What in the world is wrong with me? It is not unusual for me to be on my feet for nearly eight hours during surgery, but now I feel like an elementary school student collapsing from anemia listening to the principal's long speech during the morning assembly. Iwamoto, who had not moved an inch until then, bends down to follow me. I feel a warm palm on my back.
"Sensei, are you all right?"
"Ah, yes. I'm fine."
"Should I call an ambulance?"
"No, no. I don't need it." No kidding. If you call an ambulance here, I'll surely be taken to the place where I work. I'd be a laughingstock for Shimabukuro.
"You sure?"
"I have a mild vagus nerve reflex and hyperventilation."
"What? I don't understand! Tell me in words I can understand!"
"I'm just a nervous wreck, that's all. I'll be fine in no time."
Oh wow, I'm so pathetic. What am I saying out loud?
"Nervous?"
"Yes..."
"Does that mean you're okay?"
"Yes."
"Thank goodness... I was so scared I thought you have some serious illness and gonna die."
"I'm so sorry."
My face is on fire.
"I'm worried about you, Sensei. Let's sit down on the couch."
"Thank you."
Iwamoto helps me up and sits me down on the couch. I can't raise my face. This is too embarrassing. Iwamoto stands by the couch, staring down at me, and remains silent for a while.
"Sensei...may I...? May I...ask why you want me to leave?"
I know it is coming. What do I tell him? I really can't think of a single good excuse. I think about making up a plausible excuse, but I want to keep the lying to a minimum. I've imagined several outcomes if I tell or not tell Iwamoto any reasons. If I refused, I am sure he will keep his disappointment to himself and eventually forgive me. I have a feeling that he will be so relieved by my sudden change of heart that he's willing to let me go. I don't think he will be that passionate about continuing to live with me.
I take a deep breath. I look up and am ready to―
"No no no, it's okay! You don't have to say it! Don't say it. I know, it's not something I want to hear. Hahaha." Iwamoto panics.
I wonder if it is my imagination, or is true that Iwamoto's current face turns completely white.
"It's because of a woman, right? I understand. I saw you bought condoms several weeks ago."
Iwamoto's words don't feel right.
"Are you okay?"
I don't have a girlfriend... In any case, I want a boyfriend now. But, leaving condoms lying around seems like a huge mistake.
"You can't...bring her home if I'm here, can you? Hahaha, it can't be helped. I knew it. Yeah, I was sure it would happen someday."
I am so surprised that I forget everything for a moment. I look at Iwamoto. He is laughing, but his face is troubled. As if he is trying his best not to burst into tears. He looks hurt despite his carefree words and laughter. Iwamoto is usually a very honest man. He laughs when he is happy and raises his eyebrows when he is upset. For the first time, I see his speech and expression do not match at all. I am worried. He is not good at lying.
I think I hurt him.
"No no, I've never touched a regular condom, so I was just curious."
The momentum of the situation pushes me to say things I should not say. I am not sure of what I just blurted out. I am being too honest.
Iwamoto is stunned. The wrinkles between his eyebrows disappear for a moment, but he still looks troubled.
"Well, why then...? I... I can give you more money. Did the food taste too strong? If you like lighter taste, then I... I'll make it. Anything. Please tell me."
"No... As I said, there's nothing wrong with you. Your cooking is really delicious and I am very grateful. I thank you so much for making them every day. But..."
"Oh, is it because I get up too early, do I make a lot of noise? I...I wake up too early because I sleep earlier too... But I can, I can stay locked in my room until it's a proper time or..."
"Iwamoto... Hey, Iwamoto-san."
I realize now, that Iwamoto's reaction is completely different from what I was expecting. To my surprise, he breaks down crying. He looks at me and begs at me. He holds onto me. He looks like he's going to give his legs up if I don't hold him. He can't stand me not saying anything.
I am an idiot.
I should have understood that from the start. All the gestures and expressions he made. He seemed to love me... But I didn't have much self-confidence to believe it with complete certainty. He lived with me and was at ease with me. He always looked bright and happy. He cried in front of me... Can that be the answer? But I still have a horrible dread. What if I am wrong, what will an ordinary person think if a creepy man like me suddenly goes and tells them that I love them? Surely they will be disgusted. Even if they only feel genuine friendship towards me, they'll try to keep an appropriate distance to prevent this from going any further.
Iwamoto is straight. He trusted me as his doctor and exposed his lower body. For him, my love will surely be nothing but a brutal betrayal. What's more, what if he knows that the root of my love is a low-level desire over a sense of superiority? If he knows that my help for him is solely driven by brilliant merit, he will hate me.
He doesn't know much about it, he just wants to keep living with me. He's a kid and he's scared because he's being left alone.
I want to cry too.
Why can't I be satisfied with his friendship and genuine trust? Sure, I know the answer. Because I'm starving for him. I have never been wanted by anyone except my relatives, and I don't know how far I should move. I don't know how to stop my desire.
"Iwamoto-san." I lower my tone of voice. Iwamoto shut his mouth. "I'll tell you why I can't live with you anymore."
There's no need for me to keep my words to myself anymore. I take a deep breath. It is too hard to say it while looking straight at Iwamoto's face.
"I like you, Iwamoto. I'm in love with you."