A night and day job was a lot for any person. Teru knew that well. He had considered taking on a third one at a host club in Kabukicho! 

Those street recruiters keep hounding me about it whenever I pass by them. They’re relentless and want me to work there. How many business cards do I have now? Twenty? That’s practically a collection! I don’t know how to feel about wooing the ladies for cash, though. Would I be bad at it? Should I give it a try?

He shuddered at the thought of being touched by strangers, night after night. His personality wasn’t that outgoing to entertain others. To sit around and pour drinks for customers? He’d definitely drop that bottle. To laugh and act cool?  

I’m the most uncool person ever. What would I talk about? The weather? How I’m on the verge of death caused by overwork? Yeah, that’s an uplifting topic.

But if just one of those nights could earn a week or two worth of salary…

Gosh. Forget it. I can’t even handle what I have on my plate, anyway.

There were daily moments when Teru questioned his sanity and ignored his health. Dizzy spells were common. Sometimes, he blacked out from pure exhaustion. He had accidentally nodded off and rested his head on someone’s shoulder on public transportation. 

The dark circles under his eyes made him appear like a train wreck. Makeup was a lifesaver to hide his chronic fatigue. He couldn’t hide everything, though. On days when his eyes were red after two hours of sleep to begin the day all over again, Lucas worried incessantly.

I’m going to get us out of here. We will live better. I have hope. I have to believe that we will find that happiness.

And the first step was saving money. Working hard now would be worth it in the future.

Teru yawned and checked his cracked phone screen. It was December 26th, 9:15 P.M.

Let’s see, my next shift starts at ten-thirty tonight. I have just enough time to change and eat dinner. I might be able to get an hour of sleep in the morning. Yuta should be home by now, too. Did he forget to make us dinner again? I should also ask him what he thinks about the host club gig.

He sent a text through the LIME app. 

Teru: I’ll be home soon (smiley face)

After ten minutes, Yuta still hadn’t read the message. That was odd. He should either be playing video games or watching anime. Rarely did Teru come home to a warm meal. Yuta used to make him nice dinners such as curry or katsudon, but those days were far between. Cup noodles or instant yakisoba were the norm for them.

Maybe he’s still mad I missed our lunch date last week—we hadn’t had one in a while—but he seemed okay about my blunder. 

It was his fault. Teru was supposed to get off work earlier that day at eight in the morning, being a part of the graveyard crew. But his boss frantically begged and bowed for him to cover his flaky co-worker. Supposedly, she had caught a cold. That was bullshit, but it was hard to say no in that culture. On the outside, Teru smiled. Inside, he wanted to tell them too bad, so sad, and that he had plans. 

He then reluctantly worked two shifts in a row. As a thank you, he was given a baggie of almost-expired cakes from their store that would’ve been thrown away. What a slap to the face!

Something had to change. Their lives had to change!

These weren’t careers Teru wanted to stay in forever. His ultimate goal was to make it far in Japan’s air rifle team… all the way to the Olympics. It was a sport his father had randomly encouraged him to do. Karate? Baseball? No, let’s get a recommendation letter and put our minor son in classes to learn how to shoot.

And damn, was Teru good at it. Bullseye should be his nickname. 

“He’ll shoot your eye out,” his coach would say in English about him. It was a funny pun.

Twenty minutes had passed, and Teru was still left unread. Even during Yuta’s shift at his new gaming cafe job, his boyfriend always responded fast. 

I thought he understood why I worked so much. Did I not pick up on his cues that he was madder than I believed?

And they had another problem… Yuta himself. His money situation had become worse month by month. He developed a gambling addiction a year ago when an old co-worker introduced him to Pachinko, aka slot machines. Their finances had gone downhill more, if that was even possible!

Teru would never forget the horrified look on Lucas’s face after practice when he confided in him, telling him how bad it was getting at home. 

I think that stirred Lucas to apply at the same mall store I work at so I wouldn’t battle things alone… too bad he won’t admit it.

When Nolan transferred to the same location… Seriously, either Teru’s luck was shit or a huge coincidence.

Regardless of the gambling, Teru never saw Yuta any less than a man. He’d always be the same boy who had rescued him from bullies during high school. Everyone had their pros and cons, ups and downs. Teru was willing to overlook it since he loved him, and how Yuta promised to get help next year. 

In fact, Yuta had his first day at the residential treatment center for two months on January 4th after the holidays were over. Teru even wrote daily reminders in his notes app:

…and so on for eight weeks. It was all set up. While Yuta recovered, he’d focus on work, rearrange the apartment, clean, and make a reservation at a private hot spring resort in Oita as a congratulations gift.

The bus gradually drove to the outskirts. He daydreamed while getting squished between the congested crowd.

It was difficult to hide the pair’s five-year relationship in public. Society was still conservative. Slowly improving, but not enough to hold hands where people could see and be comfortable about it. 

At home, they didn’t have to hide. 

On New Year’s Eve, I’ll make a home-cooked meal, watch a movie until late afternoon, cuddle, kiss, and maybe… finally lose my virginity.

Yes, Teru was still a virgin.

It was something he felt he had to save for the right time. Yuta wanted to go further than second base, but Teru always denied the advances to go all the way. He didn’t know why. Timing? Age? Nervousness? All the above?

After months of deliberating and going back and forth with Yuta, Teru made up his mind to lose the v-card. There was even lube and condoms he had purchased a few days ago. Those were under his carefully folded socks in the drawer. Buying them at the pharmacy was embarrassing, especially when the elderly employee had practically yelled, “Do you need a black bag?” 

The dark baggies were designated for personal hygiene items, such as feminine products and sexual-related things. “Y-yes,” Teru squeaked, cheeks hot under his face mask.

I was saving myself for my special person. I think Yuta is the one.

The words ‘I think’ echoed in his head. 

After studying the heavy snowfall out the window, Teru went to the weather app on his phone. He winced at the painful scratches in his palms. Those needed to be disinfected. 

Minus five degrees Celsius? Too cold—

SCREEEEEECH.

“This is xxx Station,” the automatic voice announced. Finally. The bus took longer to arrive because of Saturday night rush hour.

Teru weaved through the packed bodies to get to the front, scanned his bus ID to pay the fare, and got off.