Kaoru Hoshitani stood under the scalding torrent of hot water, scrubbing every inch of skin that had recently been sullied by that woman’s touch with a force so fierce, so nearly self-punishing, it bordered on self-abuse.
The water was so hot that his skin flushed red, but he seemed oblivious to the pain, his fingernails raking hard over his neck, chest, arms…
Especially that hair—his soft, glossy hair, which he had always cherished and cared for with the utmost diligence.
He poured out a palmful of shampoo and lathered it up again and again, bubbles rising and dissipating over and over.
Still, he could not rid himself of the filthy taint and sensation clinging to him, left behind by that blonde woman. It felt like an incurable infection that would not let go.
He remained there beneath the water, mechanically washing his body—the body that now seemed unbearably dirty in his own eyes—over and over, those usually lively fawn-like eyes now dull and empty, silently shedding tears that mingled with the hot streams, impossible to tell apart.
Only when his delicate skin was rubbed raw and covered with red marks, swelling and stinging sharply at the slightest touch, did he finally stop, as if all his strength had been drained away.
But it wasn’t over.
With trembling hands, Kaoru Hoshitani picked up his own toothbrush from the washbasin, squeezed out a long stripe of toothpaste, and began to brush his teeth with frantic vigor.
In the process, he seemed to recall, again and again, some unbearably disgusting and humiliating memory.
His throat clenched with a violent wave of nausea, and he doubled over the toilet, dry heaving.
His stomach spasmed, but nothing came up—only sour gall surged up his throat.
He could not control the retching, yet he stubbornly kept scrubbing his teeth, as if determined to cleanse every lingering trace of that woman’s foul presence and taste from his mouth and deep down his throat.
He did not stop until his gums ached and his throat burned raw from the repeated retching, his whole body slumping weakly against the cold tile wall, staring blankly at the ceiling shrouded in steam…
In the cramped kitchen, the last bowl of miso soup was carefully placed on the dining table in the living room by Aina Saiten.
On the table were already two plates of golden fried shrimp, the tails curled, batter crisp, flanked by two plates of tender omelet rice.
Ketchup had been playfully drawn into little hearts on top.
She straightened her back and wiped her hands on her apron, glancing instinctively once more at the bathroom door, still tightly shut.
The sound of running water had stopped long ago, but the person inside still hadn’t emerged.
“Kaoru? Are you done yet? The midnight snack is getting cold.”
She couldn’t help but walk to the bathroom door, curled her fingers, and knocked lightly on the frosted glass, her voice tinged with a barely noticeable note of worry.
There was a faint rustling from within. A moment later, the lock clicked softly, and Kaoru Hoshitani emerged, head bowed, wrapped in a soft, pale gray bathrobe.
Damp black hair clung to his smooth forehead and neck, drops of water still beading at the tips and occasionally falling, leaving fleeting trails on his fair skin.
His skin, steamed by the hot water, glowed faintly pink; around his eyes, still red from crying and the heat, a flush lingered, making his fawn-like eyes seem even more moist, as if veiled in Jiangnan drizzle, so fragile it made Aina Saiten’s heart tremble.
Seeing him so pure and vulnerable—like a water lily emerging, all traces of the mundane washed away—smelling the sweet, clean scent from his body, Aina Saiten’s lingering doubts were swept away in a surge of love and possessiveness.
She adored him to distraction, unable to resist reaching out, gently yet firmly drawing this delicate person into her arms.
Her cheek nestled into the damp hollow of his neck as she took a deep breath of his clean, familiar scent, as if only this could confirm he belonged wholly to her.
Kaoru Hoshitani’s body tensed, almost imperceptibly, as a shadow of rough memories flickered across his mind, but the warmth and security of his girlfriend’s embrace, her reassuring scent, quickly washed away the discomfort.
He closed his eyes, stretched out trembling arms, and held her tightly, as if trying to meld himself into her body.
Under the warm living room lights, the two stood quietly entwined, each feeling the other’s heartbeat—first erratic, then gradually syncing together.
“Thump, thump… Thump, thump…”
In this comforting resonance, Aina Saiten lifted her head; at the same moment, Kaoru Hoshitani lowered his gaze. Their eyes met in midair, entwined with endless affection.
Naturally, their lips met.
The moment the kiss began, it was so clean and pure, untainted by any hint of lust.
Like melting snow in early spring, it gently exchanged warmth, with no purpose but to convey and affirm their wholehearted love for each other.
Aina Saiten could feel the softness of his lips and a subtle, trembling chill from deep inside him.
But this gentle kiss didn’t last long.
Soon, Kaoru Hoshitani took the initiative, deepening the kiss with an urgency that surprised her.
His heart in turmoil, haunted by dirty memories, what he craved most was to fill his senses—his body and soul—with his girlfriend’s touch, warmth, and presence.
He desperately needed her loving embrace to cover and wash away the lingering, humiliating traces left by another woman.
“W-wait, Kaoru…”
Aina Saiten was a little breathless from her boyfriend’s rare passion.
Delighted though she was, she had planned to feed him first—if he went hungry, she would be the one to feel sorry.
She gently turned her head aside, evading Kaoru’s fevered lips, and said, a bit out of breath,
“Let’s eat something first, okay? Otherwise the midnight snack I worked so hard on will get cold.”
“…Okay.”
Kaoru Hoshitani paused, the roiling emotions in his eyes receding like the tide, replaced by a hint of loss but more of acquiescence.
He truly had no appetite, his stomach stuffed with what felt like a waterlogged wad of cotton, heavy and uncomfortable.
But more than anything, he didn’t want to let down his girlfriend’s kindness and the care in her eyes.
He nodded lightly, letting Aina Saiten lead him by the hand to sit side by side at the small sofa beside the living room’s dining table, with its checkered tablecloth.
Their apartment was indeed small, without a separate dining area. They usually ate at this living room table, which doubled as a dining table—simple, but made warm and homey by Aina Saiten’s touch.
Sitting shoulder to shoulder, leg pressed against leg, the two were close together.
Aina Saiten picked up the biggest fried shrimp, dipped it in sauce, and brought it to Kaoru Hoshitani’s mouth.
He obediently opened his mouth, chewing slowly, the food tasteless as wax, but making an effort to look like he was enjoying it.
Aina Saiten ate as well, and once again launched enthusiastically into describing her interview earlier that day, including the surprising detail of encountering a mysterious, very young Toh-Dai junior as the interviewer.
“So, once I get the official offer and start working,”
Aina Saiten put down her chopsticks, turned to him, and took his cool hands in hers, eyes sparkling with hope for the future, though her voice was tinged with cautious probing.
She knew this topic always touched his pride and made him unhappy,
“Kaoru, you won’t have to work so hard anymore. You can stop working at the izakaya and rest at home, or do whatever you like.”
But to her surprise, after a dozen seconds of silent contemplation, Kaoru Hoshitani, eyelashes casting small shadows under his eyes, looked up with a calm resolve and said softly:
“Yeah, Aina, I’ve decided… Starting tomorrow, I won’t go to the izakaya anymore.”
“Ah…”
Aina Saiten froze for a moment, but quickly recovered from the unexpected announcement.
She didn’t know why her boyfriend suddenly changed his long-held resolve, but this was exactly what she’d always hoped for.
Joy immediately welled up in her heart, and she smiled brilliantly, squeezing his hand tightly.
“That… that’s wonderful! Now you can finally do whatever makes you happy, whether it’s drawing, reading, whatever you want—you don’t need to worry about money or putting up with people anymore!”
By now, they’d nearly finished eating. Aina Saiten deftly cleared the dishes and carried them into the kitchen sink, deciding to wash them tomorrow.
After a long day, she was bound to have picked up dust and sweat outside, so she decided to take a shower and freshen up.
If Kaoru, with his sharp nose, complained about her scent when they got close later, it would spoil the mood.
“Kaoru, go wait for me in the bedroom. I’ll shower and join you soon.”
She spoke as she walked toward the bathroom, hand on the doorknob, about to close the door.
But just as the door was about to shut, a slender, trembling hand reached out and pressed against the door.
Startled, Aina Saiten looked up and saw Kaoru Hoshitani standing in the doorway, his bathrobe’s sash loosely tied, collar gaping to reveal delicate collarbones.
He looked up at her, fawn eyes swirling with complicated emotion—fading redness, hidden humiliation, and a desperate determination, as well as a longing to confirm something.
He parted his thin lips, voice hoarse and laced with a barely perceptible plea:
“Aina… tonight… let me serve you in the bath…”