I'm back for the holidays….I wanted to finish the first book by this year but looks like that's not going to happen. Merry Christmas!

When a person in love got drunk, heaven and h.e.l.l might alternately appear. My thoughts went back and forth between the two extremes. What should I do if I couldn't get myself to speak, let alone that hated text? No, as long as there was some kind of chance, maybe the two of us could go on a fun rock date. I wondered what kind of date it would be. Carrying hammers and going to pick rocks?

While absurdly expanding my delusions as I walked on an unfamiliar road, sure enough, I lost my way. c.r.a.p. Which way was the subway station? Neon signs lined up side by side. There were ladies with flashy curled hair and lots of exposed skin. Once I got pulled in to a clip joint, I was done for.

I had to go back right away. I had to retrace my steps. Immediately.

The instant I hurriedly turned back, my foot got caught in the garbage bags that were piled up on a corner of the road. My leg wouldn't move. It was a conspicuous stumble, but I somehow managed to pull through by clinging onto a utility pole.

“That was close…!”

If my arms hadn't moved, I would have slammed face first into the pole. If I ended up needing an ambulance because I got drunk, Hiromi would kill me.

But more importantly, I couldn't move my leg which was buried beneath the garbage bags. They were strangely heavy.

In the dim light, I strained my eyes and…

At the garbage dump at my feet, on top of the clear bag.

There was a person.

“Uwah!”

They had collapsed. They were lying facedown, spread eagle, and not moving. Were they just sleeping? There was also the worst case scenario. I cautiously put my hand to their throat and found a pulse. But their body was extremely hot.

“Are you alright? Should I call an ambulance?”

I asked them in a loud voice, but their reactions were sluggish. The person, who was only groaning, was wearing a gray dress s.h.i.+rt and a black vest made of a s.h.i.+ny material. The scent of alcohol wafted from all over their body.

“Could you please tell me your name, and age?”

“…Takatsuki, Satos.h.i.+…twenty-seven years old…”

Takatsuki Satos.h.i.+. Huh? Takatsuki Satos.h.i.+?

The body slowly slipped off the mountain of garbage bags, half turned midway through it and fell to the ground on his backside. The man, whose pose was like a teddy bear with bad stability, had a bright red face and his consciousness dazed. When I raised his chin and checked his face for a minute, I found that he was terribly feverish. It was dark and I couldn't completely see his features, but at any rate, this was definitely a bad situation.

I checked the address on the utility pole, called 119 for an ambulance, and then ran to the brothel district. I'd been doing this a lot recently. When I asked the ladies for help about a collapsed person, perhaps because they were, as expected, used to this kind of thing, their response was quick, and about three people came from the scattered stores. However, no one knew which store he was from. Even when I told them that his name seemed to be Takatsuki-san, it was no use. Before long, someone returned to their store and brought water in a pitcher.

While he was somehow conscious, flas.h.i.+ng lights and the sounds of sirens approached. Takatsuki-san moaned, and his head slumped down. Something s.h.i.+ny could be seen on his neck. It was a gemstone.

A thin gold chain. The metal that encircled the stone.

It was the amethyst pendant.

Two paramedics, wearing helmets, asked if there was anyone who knew him there. Since it became serious, people in suits and dresses shuffled out from the other stores. I timidly responded.

“…He gave his name as Takatsuki Satos.h.i.+, twenty-seven years old.”

Takatsuki-san, Takatsuki-san, the paramedics called. They looked around, but no one reacted. They asked if there was no one who knew him, but people only looked at each other. If he ended up riding in the ambulance by himself like this and the worst happened, I would feel sick to my stomach.

“I'll go with him.”

“What is your relations.h.i.+p to him?”

“…He's a customer of my store.”

“Are you sure about this?”

I nodded. I wasn't lying. When he was placed on the stretcher, I can clearly see Takatsuki-san's face. It was him. He was beginning to flap his limbs and shout, Nozomi, Nozomi.

Before I got into the ambulance, I sent a text.

It was at a time when the date was about to change soon, but I wondered if he was still awake, my boss.

After I opened the sliding door, I was in a room for four people. The dazzling morning light was s.h.i.+ning down.

On the smooth and cream-colored floor, there were beds with white frames. Only one of the four was occupied. It was with a tanned man wearing hospital pajamas.

“h.e.l.lo!”

I greeted him cheerfully, and Takatsuki-san opened his eyes wide before falling down. It was a face of deep regret.

“What the h.e.l.l, it's you? …Er, what's your name again?”

“It's Nakata. You scared me last night. Are you doing alright?”

“I'm alive, as you can see. I heard it about after I regained consciousness, you know, that a young man called me a ‘customer of my store' and came with me, and waited 'til I was in the clear. I racked my brain trying to remember which store it was, but came up with nothing…Umm, why were you there? And today's Sat.u.r.day, so shouldn't you be at the Ginza store?”

“I asked for an afternoon s.h.i.+ft. And I should be the one who's surprised.”

“I didn't wanna be an adult who lets young kids worry over him…”

I sat down on a chair near his pillow and Takatsuki-san shrugged, as though resigned.

“I think you already know this, but I'm not a host.”

Little by little, Takatsuki-san talked about his personal history. The amethyst pendant was thrown down on the bedside table where a cup of water was placed. It sparkled less energetically than it had when I saw it in Richard's store. Was it because of the hospital's fluorescent lights that were meant to be gentle on the eyes?

Takatsuki-san worked as a bartender at a Roppongi club. It wasn't a host club, but a club with mainly hostesses.

However, that did not mean he was strong against alcohol—he was at a “barely average” level. Once he had two gla.s.ses of wine, his head became hazy and he felt dizzy, as though he had drank some sort of forgetting potion. Even so, he prided himself on knowing for certain the taste of alcohol. His family home was in the mountains of Nagano, and they grew grapes. It‘s the sticks through and through, Takatsuki-san lowered his voice, as though embarra.s.sed.

At any rate, he had reckless thoughts of Tokyo and went there, then started working at a club, and met his lover.

“Her professional name's Hanasaki Nozomi, and her real name's Kanzaki Nozomi, but she's another extremely heavy drinker.”

“She's a heavy drinker?”

Nozomi-san was the “plump and cute” type of hostess, and her service spirit was exceedingly vigorous. She couldn't say no in a lively atmosphere. With her personality, she could not perform the type of customer service where you got them to drink more and more to get them drunk, and instead she herself ended up drinking. Because of that, even though she was two years younger than Takatsuki-san, something called gammGTP levels in her liver were very high.*

(TN: GammGTP is an enzyme that plays a role in drug detoxification. Its elevation can signal excessive alcohol consumption.)

“Gamma…?”

“GTP.”

“You remembered that well.”

“Cuz it's about Nozomi.”

Takatsuki-san said that as though it was obvious. She must be someone who was already closer to family than lover.

“Even though it's not like there's no selling of anything besides the drinking arts, she seems happy when it gets lively. Because she blindly loves it so much, she doesn't turn it down when she's offered a drink. Even though I told her not to drink anymore.”

“It's no use even when you tell her not to drink?”

“…It's impossible for someone in the night entertainment business to abstain from alcohol. If you really want to stop, you can only quit your job. But our current situation is that we pool our earnings together and barely get by. There are tons of uni students who want to work part-time in this industry, but it's not as good as they think it is. No matter how many livers you have, it's not enough.”

“But, Takatsuki-san, when you came to our store before, you seemed like a popular host.”

“…”

Takatsuki-san groaned lowly and held his head in his two hands.

“Are you alright?”

“…Recently, Nozomi's been obsessed with this one host, and supporting him with money.”

When I made an “Uh” sound, Takatsuki-san looked puzzled. His grumbling tone, as though he was talking about something trivial, did not mesh well with the content of the conversation. His lover? With a host?

“Doesn't that mean you broke up…?”

“Ah…if she went out with another man, I'll definitely be angry about that, but hosts are like idols. On the job, they're flesh-and-blood men, but they're also not. Do you get what I'm saying? Just because you're the best customer of a particular hostess doesn't mean you're dating that girl.”

That certainly might be so, but was it something that could be cleanly separated like that?

When I looked at him with an investigating gaze, Takatsuki-san smiled bleakly. It didn't seem to be so.

“Nozomi lives in the world of the night, so she knows that much only too well. She told me that she was fine with that, so she wants to support him. When she sees the man being lively and energetic in his store because of her own money, she feels happy from the sense of accomplishment. It seems lonely…but I'm lonely too. What the h.e.l.l's a host anyway? Isn't your boyfriend a bartender? They're about as different as a goldfish and a telescope eye, at most.” *

(TN: Not the first time I made a note about this, but a telescope eye is a goldfish with protruding eyes.)

“So, it's like the difference between me and Richard.”

“Pretty sure that's self-torture.”

Nozomi's answer was, Hosts sparkle.

This person was the one who taught me that there were two kinds of looks when a regular man looks at a host. They were “disgusted” and “jealous,” and those who were in love had “jealous” faces.

Takatsuki-san, who was told that he didn't sparkle, resolved himself. He aimed to make a complete reversal from being a bartender, and succeed at becoming the manager of a host club.

“And so, a host club…huh? Seriously? No matter how you look at it, it's insane.”

“You can say that because you don't know just how much a popular host earns per night. It's heaps of money. If you have just one guy who's got ‘it,' you can manage to open one or two clubs. It's that kind of world. I'm serious, hot guys are saving the world.”

“…Even so, it's a crazy thing to consider.”

Takatsuki-san looked a little embarra.s.sed. Of course, I didn't know anything about the world of adult entertainment, but was it really something you could go into so readily and carelessly and come out all right? If that was the case, I felt like there would be more host clubs everywhere. In my seminar, I thought it was either me or s.h.i.+momura who was the most laidback, but if I asked his opinion on this, even he would probably make a face.

Customers will come if there are good-looking guys, so first I have to discover the people—Takatsuki-san said, and walked around Tokyo searching for sparkling men. Even if he called out to people with, “I'm a bartender, but wouldn't you like to become a host?”, it was easy to imagine that he wouldn't get encouraging responses, and so he pretended to be a hotly demanded host.

“But there wasn't a lot of people who could be called the right fit for the job. Young kids tense up just with the invitation to the nightlife business, and guys who get thoughtlessly interested would immediately tell you to lend them money.”

“Well…yeah, that makes sense …”

For the sake of inviting hosts, Takatsuki-san zeroed in on the vicinity around jewelry stores. His thinking was that men who went and bought jewelry equals “host” or someone interested in being one. I strongly felt that was wrong, but anyhow, Takatsuki-san's ability to get things done was incredible. Generally speaking, he loitered around the store and called out to men trying to enter or leave it. He continued until he got noticed by the store workers and got driven away, and then went to another store. It was getting harder and harder to listen to this.

After many swings and misses, while he was hanging out near a store along Ginza's Sotobori Dori, Takatsuki-san had a shock, like he was struck by lightning. He came across Richard.

“I couldn't believe my eyes. A man who looked like he jumped out of a black-and-white film they'd show at a revival house was chatting with a clerk from a general store in fluent j.a.panese. Talking about how the sponge cake from the coffee shop over here was delicious, or how he wanted laundry from the public bath over there. After that foreigner was gone, I asked the clerk about him, and when they told me that he was the owner of a new jewelry store, I thought this must be fate. I'm being serious, he of all people should be a host. Why is he so set on being a jeweler? He can make a living with just his face, right?”

“He'd get angry if you said that to him.”

“I'm being serious.”

The word “pretty” sounded like you were telling someone that they had no worth other than that after one wrong move. It was true that Richard's appearance was far from the norm, and there was no doubt that he possessed an attraction power that was on par with the pandas at Ueno. But no British jeweler could master fluent j.a.panese without any effort.

“…He came all the way from Europe to j.a.pan to work as a jeweler, so I think he has some serious reasons for doing that.”

“What kind of reasons?”

“I don't know, but it could be something like, ‘Because I really love it,' for example.”

Takatsuki-san fell silent. Why? Even though the ball I threw was visible from the beginning, he had a strange look on his face, like he was on receiving end of an awful hit by pitch from me.*

(TN: A hit by pitch is where the batter is. .h.i.t directly by a pitch from the pitcher.)

When I cracked a joke about how if Richard wanted to live easily, he could also be the lover of a royal in some country, Takatsuki-san burst into host-like laughter. It was a bit similar to s.h.i.+momura's smile when he was seeing me off at the bar. Thirty percent happiness and seventy percent bitterness. The air of resignation was strong.

“Then, I want to tell him to give me his face.”

“…So if your scouting was successful, how did you plan on opening your club after that?”

“That would all take care of itself, as long I had energy and spirit. For money, I could just borrow some from a loan shark or something. Even if I cry and confess that I'm actually a bartender, if I rent a s.p.a.ce, I guess I could draw them in somehow.”

“That's a pretty impossible plan. Wasn't it better to fail instead?”

“I guess it was.”

This time his smile was eighty percent bitterness. It didn't look very much like a smile. Takatsuki-san wiped the sweat off of his forehead with his pajama sleeve, then, as though incidentally, wiped his eyes as well.

“…You know, I really am sick of the current me. I love Nozomi. But I couldn't even protect her, and I could never become a man who's more sparkling than a host. There's no point in increasing my income. I have absolutely nothing left. I've been letting it go past without thinking about until now, but night jobs are hard on the body. I, who had nowhere else to go and was about to dry up, felt like I was thrusted before that store. Like, what the h.e.l.l are you doing, how long do you plan on being drunk for?”

“…And so, the amethyst.”

“I was going to buy one thing, I didn't care what. And it was cheaper than I thought.”

Last night, almost a week after he visited Richard's store, Takatsuki-san put on the amethyst pendant and went to work. On that day, the customer who was always eager to have Nozomi-san drink a lot came, and the regular drinking art was about to begin.

If it was as usual, Takatsuki-san would only be watching from behind the counter, but for some reason yesterday, he became unable to bear it.

Barging into the circle, he kept drinking and drinking all of Nozomi-san's drinks, got cheered on, got stirred up, and drank again. To the madness of the bartender who seemed to never drink, the customer clapped his hands, delighted, and Takatsuki-san continued to drink and drink as he kept getting offered alcohol. As he was unsteady on his feet, he secretly left the club out the back door. Before he knew it, he seemed to be having a scary look on his face, Takatsuki-san said, smiling bitterly.

“Don't look so serious. Did you honestly think that I thought I would be fine because legend says the amethyst is a stone that won't let you get drunk? It's a hundred percent my fault. Not yours or the owner's.”

“That's not the issue. Alcohol poisoning kills a lot of people every year, you know. It's no laughing matter. Why did you leave the store on purpose? It's clearly dangerous no matter how you look at it.”

“I told you my head doesn't work when I drink. And I didn't want to show Nozomi that uncool and ugly part of me.”

“You collapsed like garbage.”

“…I remember walking for about two blocks.”

It‘s a miracle that I lived, Takatsuki-san muttered to himself, and put his hands together towards me.

“You're Nakata…Seigi-kun, right? I learned your name from the ambulance people. Thank you. I barely escaped death. I'm truly sorry for causing you all this trouble.”

“There's no helping it even if you apologize to me. What are you going to do from now on?”

“I called the club not long ago. I got yelled at, and they told me I was fired. Having a relations.h.i.+p with a hostess is forbidden, so it might be no good for Nozomi either. I'm worried about her, she cries so easily. She cries her eyes out at every given opportunity.”

“Have you contacted Nozomi-san?”

“I texted her that I was in the hospital in the early morning, but I guess she's still asleep.”

Takatsuki-san smiled unashamedly. Even when I brazenly looked right at him, he was still smiling. It was a defiant smile. The air of resignation had disappeared somewhere.

“…I wonder why. Even though I made such a big fool of myself, I strangely don't regret it.”

When I looked indignant, Takatsuki-san said, “Sorry, sorry,” and pressed his hands together again.

“From now on, well, I think I'll try going back to the countryside once. My mom and dad are still farmers, and I rushed out of there even though I'm the oldest son. If I help out, even a no-good, prodigal son can be allowed to stay at home. Also, the grapes my old man grow are beautiful, they sparkle like jewels, and they're tasty.”

“What about Nozomi-san?”

“You, really…we're farmers. It's a completely different kind of hardness from being a hostess. It's not suitable for her. I can't say Showa lines like ‘I want you to come with me.'”

“Does that mean you're breaking up with her?”

Takatsuki-san was silent, pondering, and then shook his head wordlessly.

“I can't give up on her. I want her to wait for me. I plan on telling her that I will one day go and pick her up in Tokyo. That's why, if possible—”

“Sounds like slow business. Can you guarantee that you won't meet someone else in Nagano? You actually don't want her to come with you, do you?”

“Of course I want her to come with me! I love her! That's why…”

Takatsuki-san was truly angry. I was still a bit worried, but it seemed to be sufficient.

“Did you hear all of that? It seems it's basically like that!”

When I raised my voice, the hospital room's door silently opened, and a plump and cute woman plodded in. Her light brown hair was disheveled, and she was wearing an out-of-season coat over her one-piece dress. There was a pink towel gripped in her hands, and she was crying with her whole face bright red. Takatsuki-san moaned.

“Nozomi!”

“How stupid can you be…! Why are such an idiot! Talking like I'm always drunk! You really are a stupid, no good man…!”

“What are you doing here?”

“Shut up, idiot! I came because I was worried!”

Leaving a panicking and fl.u.s.tered Takatsuki-san behind, I stood from my chair. Nozomi-san, who replaced me on the chair, slapped his face while wiping her face with a towel.

“You were almost dead, and yet you take things so easy…Please call me, don't just send a text! Stupid. You stupid, s.h.i.+tty man…Please actually die once, idiot!”

“Nozomi, I'm sorry, I'm truly sorry.”

“You're hopeless by yourself.”

There‘s no helping it, so I‘m staying with you, Nozomi said as she gripped Takatsuki-san's hand, then fell down on the bed and wept.

I left the room while grinning and walked straight down the hallway. I bowed slightly to the nurse in the elevator hall and returned the visitation tag.

“I wanted to ask you about it, but according to your aesthetic sense, the suitable occupation for me is ‘lover of royalty'? Is that the ideal occupation imagined by regular j.a.panese university students? You truly have not studied sufficiently enough.”

A man in a suit lightly leaned his back against the hall's wall and folded his arms. There was a wrinkle between his brows. I answered him with a wry smile.

“It was just a simple example.”

“There are limits.”

Richard checked his watch. It was ten-thirty in the morning. If we rode in the Jaguar, we would easily be in time for the store's opening at eleven.

“You should have gone back to the store first.”

“You would be late without the car.”

While waiting bored in the hospital, I contacted Richard. He seemed to have been still sleeping, and although at first he was intensely grumpy, after I explained the situation, he let out a deep sigh and asked me when did the hospital's visitation hours start. It seemed that he was thinking generally the same thing as me. I went home once to take a nap, and afterwards we met up in Ginza before proceeding to the hospital in the green Jaguar.

When we went up to the hospital from the underground parking lot, we encountered a woman who got there by taxi. Her bright red eyes, flashy hairstyle, and clothes that looked like she conveniently grabbed whatever was closest to her, were mismatched with each other.

She rode in the same elevator as us. The floor we got off on and our destinations were also the same.

When I caught sight of “Kanzaki Nozomi” in rounded handwriting on the visitation tag she jumped at to grab first, I recalled Takatsuki-san's shouts from last night. Nozomi.