CHAPTER 3
Shinji
Shinji lay on his back in the hotel bed, staring at the ceiling.
The anger he’d felt yesterday was at a low simmer now and mostly aimed at himself.
After he’d stormed out of his grandparents’ house, boiling with rage at the way they spoke about Teruo like he didn’t matter, Shinji couldn’t bring himself to turn around and continue the conversation.
He ate a late lunch on his own and almost got back on the plane to return home, but after the initial anger ceased, he booked a hotel room.
He was frustrated for letting his emotions interfere. The trip was about Teruo and finding a way to help him, not about the burning resentment he had toward his grandparents. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t let the past get in the way of obtaining information, but he had done exactly that.
Teruo had sent him a late-night message, but Shinji was too ashamed to admit he messed things up.
The guilt made him toss and turn all night long and he selfishly wished he were back home, curled against Teruo, waking up to kisses and hugs.
But [if he wanted to be able to live safely with Teruo] he had a job to do here, and he needed to suck it up and go to his grandparents’ house again, even though just the mere thought twisted his stomach in knots.
Grabbing his phone, he checked his messages. Two from the superintendent asking if everything was okay, and one from Teruo asking if he woke up.
He typed, and then shoved his head back into the pillow, giving himself one more minute before he had to get dressed.
Just when he was about to get up, a video call from Teruo came in, and Shinji’s heart leaped in excitement.
He had likely worried Teruo last night with his awful mood, so he took a deep breath to not put a damper on the conversation again.
At the last moment, an idea came to him and he turned on his belly, then set the phone on the pillow, so Teruo could have a full view when he answered.
Shinji tapped the button. “Mornin’.”
“No…!” Teruo protested, his mouth curving in a sly grin, and his eyes sparkling. He sounded a bit out of breath. “You can’t answer like that.”
“Like what?” Shinji teased, moving the phone a bit to the right to get Teruo a nice view of his ass.
“Naked. It’s not fair. I can’t do anything about it,” he let out a whiny moan, biting his lower lip.
Shinji wiggled his ass. “What would you do if you were here?”
“Run my tongue down your back, then eat you,” Teruo said, his voice low and husky.
“Ah, damn… Now I’m hard. Wanna go for phone sex?”
“I would, but I can’t,” Teruo complained. “I’m on a very short break in the archive room.”
Shinji chuckled, figuring out why Teruo sounded out of breath. He must’ve bolted for their hideout when he got the message. “Hey, sorry about last night,” Shinji muttered. “My grandparents…” He didn’t elaborate because there was so much to unpack, it wasn’t something he could do over the phone.
“There is nothing to apologize for. I know it’s a difficult situation. I just wish I was there for support.”
Warmth spread through Shinji, making his heart ache. He had wished for Teruo’s presence, too, yesterday, but now he realized it had been better he didn’t come. He was spared from hearing those spiteful words from Shinji’s grandmother.
Teruo was distracted for a moment, frowning at the screen. “Sorry. Nakagawa’s giving me updates.”
Although their last conversation had been brief, Teruo mentioned the newest investigation. “Tell me about the case,” Shinji said.
“Four victims. It was a peculiar crime scene. The area gave me a weird vibe. Or maybe I’ve been around you so much I’m seeing strange things where there aren’t any.”
Shinji rested his chin on his arms, eyes narrowing. “You’re thinking something supernatural killed them.”
“Well, they were poisoned according to Suzuki,” he explained. “Though the tox screen will confirm it.”
“What’s Keiko’s opinion?” Shinji inquired.
She still helped out at the homicide unit and would write her findings at home on their magnetic fridge board, away from prying eyes.
“She wasn’t with me when I arrived at the scene, but went back afterwards. She said she couldn’t find anything amiss. Couldn’t find the victims’ ghosts either.”
“I see…”
Teruo leaned closer to the screen. “I put in a request for you to assist. Is that okay?”
Shinji smiled, now even more eager to get back home and work with Teruo again. “I have some leftover paperwork to finish, but I’ll be available to assist.”
Teruo’s lips parted in alarm. “I’m sorry. You have other things to do… I should’ve checked first…”
“It’s okay,” Shinji reassured him. “I can handle it.”
Teruo seemed to read a message on his phone, then sighed. “I’m needed. You’ll be back tonight?”
“Yes, promise. No more delays.”
Teruo nodded. “Okay. Let me know when you land, so I can pick you up. I really gotta go.”
After ending the call, Shinji sighed, feeling the pressure mounting again.
He stood up and trudged to his backpack, glad he’d packed a spare t-shirt.
By the time he checked out of the hotel, his stomach was grumbling, so he bought potato sticks and a soft bread bun, then wolfed them down outside the store.
Once done, he bought a water bottle from a vending machine, and called a taxi, not wanting to bother Kazuya’s guy again.
This time, the area where his grandparents lived had a few tourists hovering around the hot spring inn.
It was incredibly awkward and embarrassing to return after storming out like that, but Shinji swallowed his pride and walked toward the store, then stopped in front of the door.
His grandfather noticed him from inside and left the same young man from yesterday to mind the counter.
“I was hoping you’d be back,” his grandfather said as he led Shinji to the house. “Your grandmother feels terrible for upsetting you yesterday.” He absentmindedly kneaded his thigh as he spoke.
Shinji pointed to his limp. “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“I used to work in construction. Had an accident a few years back. Had surgery too, but the pain flares up once in a while.” He shrugged. “I’m not young anymore.”
As he entered the house, his grandmother greeted them, wringing her hands as she looked at Shinji with a mixture of joy and unease.
He just bowed his head and sat himself on a cushion.
Tea was served but no one seemed to want to touch their cups.
Shinji stared at the steam pouring out of the cup, not sure where to start or how to talk to them without getting angry again.
Suddenly, his grandmother bowed her head. “I apologize for what I said about your superior officer. It was unkind.”
“It was downright horrible to tell me he’s lived enough and I should let him die,” Shinji said unable to stop himself.
She met Shinji’s gaze, but immediately looked away.
Shinji couldn’t help but notice she didn’t say she was wrong, only that she was unkind.
A cold shiver went down his spine, making his body rigid with frustration and sadness.
This wasn’t at all how he wanted the meeting to go.
He had secretly wished for the understanding and support he imagined grandparents would provide.
And for good news about Teruo’s condition, maybe even a solution or helpful suggestions.
It was in moments like this when Shinji wondered whether it might’ve been better if he hadn’t pursued a relationship with Teruo; maybe not have transferred to the TMPD either.
All he’d brought with him was emotional baggage and death.
Teruo deserved someone less broken, and who wasn’t a supernatural whose energy destroyed Teruo’s soul.
But his selfish heart wanted to stay with Teruo despite it all. He’d never loved anyone the way he loved Teruo, and he knew he would never find another man like Teruo.
“You hate us.” His grandfather broke the silence. “It’s understandable.”
This isn’t about you, Shinji thought. Nothing is about you.
Shinji’s shoulders dropped. “Hate you? No. I don’t know you well enough to hate you.” It was a depressing thought, but they were strangers. He was bitter about everything, but not hateful.
“We should’ve contacted you,” his grandfather said. “We should’ve fought harder.”
“Yeah, you should’ve.” Shinji reached for the cup of tea and took a sip, wanting to moisten his dry throat.
His gaze fell on his grandparents’ hands, wrinkled with age, and it dawned on him just how much time they all lost. “I could’ve also done more, but…
” He took a breath, preparing himself. “After my father passed away, I tasted freedom for the first time in my life. I didn’t have anyone to tell me what a waste of oxygen I am, what a terrible son I am, how I’ll never be as good as my mother was, so I decided I was better off by myself. ”
The room descended into silence again as Shinji’s words sank in.
Tears fell down his grandmother’s cheeks, and he looked at her with a pang of guilt for causing her anguish, almost wanting to reach out and hold her hand, comfort her.
At the same time, frustration simmered within him as her uncaring words toward Teruo still cut deep.
“Back then, I didn’t want to be tied down to anyone anymore,” Shinji continued.
“I wanted to make my own way in life.” He paused.
“And since you hadn’t contacted me my entire childhood, I thought you wanted nothing to do with me.
Maybe I was wrong, but I was nineteen and didn’t have the best role models in life. ”
His grandmother wiped her tears with a trembling hand, her voice barely a whisper. “We never knew what was happening to you, Shinji. Your father kept us away, threatened to call the police on us if we visited. He blamed your mother’s death on us and we blamed it on him.”
Actually, he blamed me for her death, Shinji thought, but didn’t say it out loud.