when mamoru sees takuya again, he thinks he's dead. surely he should be in hell though? because the countryside has been nothing like it. the sea breeze pierces through his lungs like ice pick, the wind greets him with a friendly pat.
takuya cooks the mackerel like the mackerel expert he is. he's told mamoru of that dream before, where he opens a seafood restaurant that can rival a michelin. but mamoru doesn't know what a michelin approved dish tastes like. neither takuya does. when the food is served, the smell takes him back to that tokyo apartment.
takuya wears obnoxious sunglasses now (are chefs allowed to do that? the sun isn't up either.) the food, as expected, is good, but he's still a little bit disheartened. does takuya not recognize him anymore?
but the other man, the person in the car with takuya that night, somehow takes a double look at him.
mamoru knows all of them look different from last time. takuya's hair is shorter and has no longer any blond highlights, while the other man has an even longer hair.
he's not too bad himself. he used a little bit of that money to completely change his style. just more thick and padded clothes. and some gloves and beanies. that's all really. the rest of it is rotting on that trailer. he couldn't bear to. he doesn't even realize that his tears have fallen on the white plastic table. his tongue becomes salty until he drops his chopsticks on the floor.
"s-sorry," he whispers to no one, trying to pick them up. the long haired man hurries to his table.
"you, are you.." the man starts to say.
"takuya, that's him isn't it?"
mamoru nods as he wipes the tears off his cheeks. hell, why is he such a fucking crier. "i looked for him everywhere. dead or alive. i..."
'don't you dare cry, son! don't you fucking dare!' the words ring in his ears as soon as another batch of tears falls. he takes a deep breath, tries to calm himself down.
"it's okay, kid. you're okay," the man whispers. "i wasn't sure earlier but your face looks familiar. after all, i faked your license."
mamoru attempts to let out a laugh, then switches into a bowing position.
"thank you. thank you very much—"
"just call me ken-san, kid."
then a clank of pots resounds from the kitchen.
"ken-san, where are you?" takuya yells.
"i'm here!" ken-san yells back, then he motions for mamoru to stand. "we have a customer!"
they make their way to the kitchen as takuya yaps about having only one customer for the entire day. mamoru smiles, then finally sees him up close. and his smile fades.
"i don't know if it's the knife or the ladle, but im still in one piece, ken-san." takuya says as he feels up the floor, the ladle just inches away from his grasp.
mamoru's heart jumps. he reaches for it and picks it up.
takuya stops. then he lifts his hand. mamoru takes it and puts it on his arm. "takuya, i'm here."
takuya's hand travels from his chest to his face.
mamoru takes his beanie off and lets takuya touch his face. one palm becomes two as he lets the man caress and memorize all of him.
"mamoru." takuya breathes.
mamoru doesn't waste any second. he pulls takuya into his embrace. "i'm here."
kajitani lets them have their moment. just two souls slowly merging in a briny, oily kitchen floor, who were unaware that they were the ones who saved him once.
he goes out front and lights a cigarette. maybe he should give yuika a call now. there's barely any customers after all.
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