I heard about Brian’s serious leg injury at work around the same time I myself was standing at a turning point in my professional life. Since graduating high school, I had worked continuously as a sales clerk at an interior shop. It was during that period that I met Jayne, who approached me with the idea of starting out on my own.

When I learned of Brian’s injury through a mutual friend, my heart naturally grew heavy at the thought of his physical condition and the anxiety his family must have been feeling. But as for his state of mind or his future career, I felt little real concern. From my perspective, my childhood friend had always done well in life. Looking back, he may have had his unstable periods, but even then, he always made what could only be called the “right” choices—and achieved a great deal because of it.

That was why my decision to visit him in the hospital was motivated less by concern for Brian himself than by a desire to help his family, who must have been burdened by his sudden hospitalization. And if I’m being honest, there was another reason as well: I wanted, if only for a little while, to escape the many decisions I was being forced to make in my own life.

I took a day off on one of the days his family couldn’t visit due to work. I picked up the generous load of supplies they’d asked me to bring him, added a few items of my own, and then drove leisurely toward the hospital where Brian was staying.

Five years had passed since we graduated high school. We were both twenty-four now.

Brian had gone on to study law at university and then straight into the police force. I, meanwhile, earned my interior design certification through a vocational program while working. I’d heard that Brian had dated several men during those years. As for me—though I’d been too busy for anything serious—I’d gone on dates with two people myself.

…Setting aside the rather unimpressive number of my dates, the important thing was this: we had both grown. Socially and personally, our worlds had expanded far beyond what they’d been in high school. I believed that now, at least, I could interact with him without being tossed around by my own emotions—at a proper, adult distance.

There were so many things I wanted to talk to him about. My work. The possibility of going independent. Interesting things I’d learned in design school. The many beautiful words my grandmother had taught me. As I turned these topics over and over in my mind, my face must have been lit with an unguarded smile.

But the moment I opened the door to his hospital room and saw Brian with my own eyes, I realized how wrong I had been.

Brian was not some flawless superhuman.

Lying there was a young man my age, bearing an injury severe enough to require surgery—someone still caught in pain, discomfort, and uncertainty.

Shocked by a side of Brian I had never seen before, I nevertheless forced myself to keep smiling as I stepped into the room. I dragged the small round stool meant for visitors away from the head of his bed and down to his side, near his thigh, and sat down without asking. Until then, Brian had been watching me vaguely as I chatted on, trying desperately to fill the silence. Only then did his eyes finally focus on me.

“…It’s been a while, Luke.”

How could I possibly put into words the impact of hearing that voice—a voice so deeply familiar it made my chest tremble, and yet somehow sounded as though I were hearing it for the first time?

“What are you doing here?” he continued. “You wouldn’t even reply properly to my messages back when I was fine.”

In that instant, I understood.

As long as love remained something you could admire irresponsibly, like gazing up at the moon, it was an easy thing.

What I had once believed to be the pain of love now struck me as laughably shallow—nothing more than a self-indulgent spice sprinkled onto life.

True suffering in love begins only when you are violently cast into a mire you cannot escape, against your will.

And for me, that moment was exactly this moment.

***

If the me from back then—so lost in Brian I’d lost myself—had been placed in this situation, I might have done something foolish, like throwing everything away without a second thought.

People really do grow, I mused. Looking up at Brian, who still had me pinned, I gave him an understanding smile.

"I get it, Brian. Hannah told you she won't let you inherit unless you bring home a fiancé, right?"

"What are you talking about?"

Brian furrowed his brow as if to say he had no idea what I meant. Also, could he please get off me soon? This position was just slightly bad for my heart. And probably my back too.

Well, come to think of it, as far as I knew, there hadn’t been any deaths in the Darcy family or among their relatives. So a sham marriage over inheritance—that common trope—was out.

Rummaging through my meager knowledge of romance, I continued.

"Then, you need a hastily arranged fiancé to avoid marrying someone Seth or Hannah brought home?"

"Do you seriously think they'd interfere in their son's life like that?"

At that, I fell silent. That was indeed unlikely no matter how you looked at it.

"In that case, it must be this: your wild behavior’s become a problem, so you need a serious, well-behaved partner to make yourself look respectable!"

"Who's wild and who's well-behaved? What are you even talking about, you troublemaker!"

"Look at the conversation we just had—I'm obviously talking about you! Marriage without even dating? Seriously?"

"...I just got a bit too eager. Because you kept trying to run away, I accidentally—"

"Make sure you don't accidentally end up marrying a hundred people. You're aware you're good-looking, aren't you, handsome."

"It's not like proposing is my hobby. I just got ahead of myself and misjudged the timing. If you'd accept me, I'm ready to sign anytime."

At his words, even I was genuinely alarmed.

"What's gotten into you...?!"

"I've always been like this. I just behaved myself because I knew I had issues."

He seemed to have cast off the restraint he'd shown these past two weeks. At Brian's somewhat reckless smile, I actually calmed down a little.

Come to think of it, he was quite stubborn and cried a lot when we were kids.

By upper elementary school, that stubbornness had turned into strength, and from high school onward any sign of obsessive attachment had seemed to go quiet—but apparently only on the surface.

I looked up again at this man who clearly had no intention of forcing me but also no intention of letting me go. By now, Brian had me completely pinned beneath him. My right hand was still held down by his left, and his right hand—supporting his powerful body—was placed right beside my face.

His tall frame gave him a clean silhouette from a distance, but up close I was struck by the unexpected solidity of his body, far more substantial than I’d ever realized. Brian was resisting gravity to maintain this position, but if he gave in to it, everything between us would collapse in an instant.

—That might be easier.

The thought slipped into my mind so suddenly that even I was startled. But thinking about it, it didn't seem like a bad idea. I was truly exhausted, and starting to lose myself a little. The sweet temptation rose to measure my own worth by the affection of this man I'd once loved so much.

And Brian, apparently noticing my hesitation, tightened his grip ever so slightly.

As the tension slowly mounted, I somehow managed to look away from those fierce eyes. Then, with far more effort than I'd expected, I pushed back against Brian's chest with my free left hand.

"...If you're really interested in a future with me, let's sit up and talk."

"Luke."

His low whisper stirred something in my chest again—but only for a moment. I couldn't throw away everything I'd been carrying in exchange for a counterfeit kind of satisfaction that would last only a moment.

"...Hurry up. Your arms and back must be getting tired too by now."

"I could hold this for another ten hours."

"Then go do push-ups in front of the sofa! —I can't think straight in this position. You know that!"

"I know. That's why I'm doing this."

With that retort, Brian made a show of slowly sitting up, making the sofa creak.

I stayed curled in on myself, watching him without moving. The moment he pulled away, I realized just how violently my heart had been pounding—and squeezed my eyes shut. Pressing a hand to my chest as it hammered on, I let out a shallow, gasping sigh.

"Here, give me your hand. Unless you'd like to go back to that position."

"Hey, did you mean it when you said you love me?"

"...Sounds like you'd prefer that position after all."

"Just answer me."

Brian reached out with his long arm and touched my chin as I lay there looking away. With his fingertips, he gently guided my face back toward him.

"I love you."

Simple, powerful words reached straight into the depths of my eyes. Honest words without deceit.

Despite having prompted this myself, an intense, seething resistance surged in my chest again.

I sprang up from the sofa like a jack-in-the-box and glared at Brian from point-blank range.

"...So what, you're saying you only started wanting me these past two weeks?"

"No. I haven't been able to forget you for a long time."

"Then what was that thing you said three years ago...?!"

He must have expected this. Brian said nothing, just taking it with those quiet eyes.

"You say you didn't mean to reject me, but you said it disgusted you. That my feelings for you disgusted you."

"I did say that," Brian said, looking more pained than me for some reason. "Don't tell me you love me. That's impossible. It makes me sick—those were my exact words."

"...Wait, what?!" I jumped at the sheer brutality of those words. "You—you could have at least chosen your words better...! That's just cruel! Poor me back then!"

"You'd already forgotten it."

"I remembered being incredibly hurt! I mean, I knew you were going through a hard time too, but still, couldn't you have been more careful with your words...? Even if you didn't see me that way, I was still your friend, wasn't I?"

"You were attractive. Infuriatingly so."

Brian said it so flatly that I almost doubted he meant it.

"In the two or three years after I graduated—when I didn't see you—you'd become strikingly attractive. The you I thought I needed to protect was gone. But me..."

He trailed off. His gaze wandered as if searching for the right words, then continued.

"...Anyway, back then your kindness was unbearably welcome—and it hurt. I was so dependent on you I couldn't even think about tomorrow without you."

"Brian..."

The hospital days I'd tried not to remember came rushing back. Brian had never confided any of his suffering or fear to me. He'd just sat there with empty eyes, thinking about something alone the whole time.

I couldn't believe it. Brian was trying to tell me his honest feelings.

Careful not to show too much surprise, I opened my mouth.

"...Come to think of it, you wouldn't see anyone but me and your family."

"My nerves were constantly raw back then."

He must have noticed my voice had calmed, because some of the tension left his too.

“I even asked my family to limit their visits. Seeing anyone but you was simply difficult for me. They said all sorts of things about it being a late rebellious phase, but I got my way.”

“I see.”

I murmured with a sigh and looked away from Brian. As I lowered my gaze, trying to pull away, he casually caught my hand again.

Something inside me was beginning to transform now that he’d opened up. And responding to that change, a faint sense of wrongness slowly raised its head.

Until this very moment, I’d thought I was hurt because Brian had rejected me with harsh words. I’d kept telling myself that. …But was that really true? Hadn’t there been another reason I’d come to hate myself so much it made me sick?

Distracted by the question welling up, I froze at Brian’s next words.

“I’m different from how I was back then. I want to prove that to you.”

I almost said please don’t—but stopped myself at the last moment.

"You really don't need to. Thinking about it, expecting someone to be considerate at their worst was pretty selfish of me. So just forget it."

"Don't say that. I—"

"Okay, then let's just drop it and forget it! We were both young back then. It's about time we could laugh about it, right?"

Brian stared at me as I rattled on. Then, still holding my hand, he slowly averted his grayish-blue gaze and sank back into the sofa.

He gazed at the wall in front of him and spoke.

"You know, Luke. No matter how positive you act, I can tell you're trying to run away from me. I can also tell you still have feelings for me—and that you're still hurt by what I said."

...Honestly, what an unpleasant thing to point out. This is why childhood friends are the worst.

Unaware of my deep frown, Brian continued.

"After you disappeared, I spent some time traveling the world instead of working. Stupid as it sounds, every time I saw something beautiful, you came to mind. I knew I'd regret it forever if I didn't do something."

My heart wavered before I could stop it. He thought of me every time he saw something beautiful? Who could hear those words and feel nothing?

But even as I felt a flicker of happiness at his words, my heart only grew heavier. Something like a black fog—neither annoyance nor guilt—clung to me, growing thicker and heavier with each word Brian spoke.

I slowly exhaled the breath I'd been holding while staring at the wall.

"...So you want me. And you want to prove you've changed."

Brian hesitated for just an instant before nodding.

"Yes."

"Alright. Let's date, Brian."

His head whipped toward me in surprise, but I continued before he could speak.

"But stop trying to prove anything to me. I don't want that."

Brian, who'd been listening to my words in stunned silence, looked somewhat dissatisfied at the final condition.

"But Luke. Back then, I—"

"Look, Brian. Do you want to be with me because it makes you happy? Or do you just want me out of guilt or obsession?"

"No," Brian said immediately.

I pressed on.

"Then you don't have to prove anything to me."

I was, truly, world-class at running away.

Brian grumbled for a while, clearly unconvinced, but finally nodded with a sigh.

"...Fine. If that's what you're saying."

"Yeah... Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

He said it in a gentle voice tinged with a smile, then returned his gaze to the wall.

I'd half expected him to at least kiss me, so I felt a little let down. Following his lead, I leaned back against the sofa.