The night air hung heavy in Hasegawa's apartment, the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional passing car outside the window the only sounds keeping him company. He leaned back on his couch, phone pressed to his ear, eyes half-closed as he exhaled a slow breath.
On the other end of the line, Etsuko's voice floated through the speaker, a soft, lazy drawl softened by the sound of trickling water. She submerged in a steaming bathtub, one arm draped along the tub's edge as she stared at the ceiling with tired eyes.
"So," she murmured, shifting slightly, the water lapping quietly around her skin, "you're telling me you saw Morikita-senpai again? After all these years?"
"Yeah…" Hasegawa's voice was low, rough around the edges. He rubbed a hand over his face, fingers dragging through his messy hair. "He's been transferred under some weird circumstances. The vice president pulled strings, apparently. No one knows why."
His lips twisted into a wry smile.
"You should see him, Itou. Still cold as hell. But…" His voice softened, almost to himself, "he's close with my girlfriend."
Etsuko chuckled, the sound light but edged with curiosity. "Hmm? Getting jealous, are we?" She shifted again, resting her chin on her forearm, eyes flicking to the phone resting on a stool beside the tub. "Tell me straight. Do you love him? Or her?"
Hasegawa froze. His fingers tightened unconsciously around the phone. "…I…" He drew in a shaky breath, eyes closing as he tilted his head back against the couch. For a moment, only silence stretched between them, the weight of the question pressing on his chest.
Then, his voice came. "I… don't have romantic feelings for Sora." His throat worked as he swallowed hard. "She's perfect wife material. That's why I thought… maybe…"
Etsuko fell quiet on her side, eyes dark and thoughtful. After a long pause, she exhaled slowly. "So… you still hope to win senpai's heart, huh?"
Hasegawa let out a hollow laugh, one hand scrubbing roughly through his hair.
"Yeah." His voice was low. "And this time… I'm not accepting no from him."
Etsuko blinked slowly as she processed his words. A faint frown tugged at her lips. "…Tete… do you even realize?" she murmured, her voice soft, almost hesitant. "You've changed. You've become… even more heartless than before."
The words sliced through the quiet like a blade.
Hasegawa's head snapped up, his grip tightening on the phone.
On the other end, Etsuko shifted in her bathtub as she gazed blankly at the water's ripples. Her voice, usually laced with playful sharpness, was almost mournful.
"When we were together, you flirted with other girls, but I didn't mind," she began softly. "It was the same when I hung out with other guys. That's because… our relationship back then was nothing but a stage. Just a setup to gain popularity, to keep up appearances."
Hasegawa swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the darkened television screen across the room, his reflection faint in the glass.
"After senpai left," Etsuko continued, her voice faltering slightly, "that's when I noticed you started to lose your sanity. You stopped being that boy I used to know. You began seeing girls as objects to throw your tantrum over losing him."
"I'm not throwing tantrums on them…" Hasegawa muttered under his breath, "I just… I wanted to find something in them that could make me forget senpai."
"Right," Etsuko murmured, her voice lowering. "But you hurt them emotionally. Do you even realize that? Especially what you're doing to your girlfriend?"
Hasegawa's jaw tensed. He bit his lower lip, feeling a sharp, unwelcome stab in his chest. His heart thudded painfully against his ribs. He didn't snap back at her. He couldn't. She was right.
"Hey…" Etsuko's voice softened, a trace of pleading woven into it. "She's been with you for three years now. Three years you've lied behind her back, taken her for granted. I was happy when you said you wanted to settle down with her—"
"Are you happy to see me living with someone I don't love?" Hasegawa's tone shifted sharply, his voice steady but firm, edged with quiet disappointment. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.
"Do you think I'd love her after marriage? If I could cheat on her for three years, what can you expect after we get married?"
Hasegawa's head bowed lower, his hand sliding over his face as he pressed his palm to his forehead, shoulders tightening under the weight of his own words. His fingers trembled faintly.
"I'm lost, Itou…" His voice cracked just slightly, the vulnerability slipping through. "Sora… she's my last resort. My last chance at something normal."
He laughed bitterly, a breathless sound that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"But now that senpai's back…" His voice trailed, heavy with resignation. "I think I should let her go."
Etsuko remained quiet for a long moment, eyes unfocused, her fingers drifting along the surface of the water. Finally, she spoke softly, almost carefully. "But how? Are you going to tell her the truth—that you want to pursue senpai?"
"I don't know…" Hasegawa slumped deeper into the couch, his chest rising and falling with a slow, shaky breath. "…For now… I don't know."
The silence between them stretched, the kind only two old friends could hold without shattering. Hasegawa ran his hand through his disheveled hair, a faint tremor in his fingers, and let out another breathless laugh. "About me becoming even more heartless…" His lips twisted into a crooked, pained smile. "You're not wrong, though."
His voice dropped lower, raw and bitter. "Morikita-senpai… he's the one who's driven me this crazy."
On the other end, Etsuko closed her eyes, sinking deeper into the warm water, the city lights of Tokyo flickering faintly through the fogged-up bathroom window. She said nothing, letting the quiet settle again between them.