A steady pair of gloved hands dances over the somber keys of a piano. The room is dark and isolated, and the tune is melancholic. It is strange to see oneself, and that is what Ren is sure he is witnessing now. He cannot make out a face, only the hands. Wearing gloves, they continue to play expertly, as if unaware the user is being observed. When Ren goes to speak, he finds he can say nothing. Instead, he wakes up.
It’s always the same, and he’s already frowning.
Ren is calm and alert to the world. He also appears to be looking for something or someone. It’s perturbing, isn’t it? To have the same dream so many times over again? Over and over. Usually, Ren can’t remember falling asleep, let alone dreaming. He’s always assumed that whatever he forgets in the brief hours of calm must be nightmarish. My life is kind of a nightmare. Beginning to rise from the Western-style couch, he shifts the thin blanket off his body.
Another day. I can do this…I have to do this. Just get up already.
Pounding feet from the hallway tell him he should prepare. His young son barrels inside, jumping on his dad excitedly. He manages to catch Ren’s groin with his knee, climbing up to his father’s chest to get their faces together as close as possible. Kyosuke, a five-year-old, smiles brightly. He seems to favor his father, thus, the child’s devotion is immediate to gathering all of Ren’s attention.
“I’m up, I’m up,” Ren assures with an affable grin. “You’re already awake, huh?”
“Yeah! You were sleeping forever. Time to get up!”
Kyosuke beams at his father. This is his favorite person and the one he relies on to take care of him. If asked, Kyosuke would say Ren does the best job at being his dad. Yori would disagree but is happy to take the praise.
“It’s only 7 AM, Kyosuke. It’s still early.” And Ren works late. His schedule is conflicting, but he imagines this will change when Kyosuke enrolls in school soon. He’ll have to figure that out, too. Worn out but willing, Ren rises as he encourages Kyosuke to walk around. "Come on, let’s wake up Grandma—”
“—I already woke Grandma up! We’re ready for breakfast now.”
“Oh.” A beat. “Well, go get dressed while I get ready, okay? I’ll make us something to eat after.”
“Okay! But I want miso, and Grandma wants ohitashi!”
“That’s fine. You can have miso.” I think we still have some left. “Go get dressed like I asked.”
As Kyosuke patters off, Ren checks his mobile for the time. 7:15 AM. He was close enough. Stretching, Ren meanders to the one bathroom their apartment shares between three people. When examining himself in the mirror, he frowns. He doesn’t like what he sees. It’s a man he doesn’t know. Touching his face, he pauses before noticing how messy his hair is, how tired his eyes are, and how utterly different he looks by day. It’s easier to exist at night. He’s always preferred the dark.
Touching one of the bags under his eyes, he winces before bucking up for the day. There’s no use mourning over what he’ll fix later. He needs to change out of this shirt and boxer combination, become more presentable to society, and then return to become his other self later. It’s almost silly, he thinks, having two lives.
Silly isn’t the right word for it. Insane is what it is. I’m living an insane double life. Who does that? What kind of dad does that?
Running the water, he opens the cabinet attached to the mirror, looking over various pill bottles in search of something specific. Finding what he wants, he shuts the mirror, opens up the small bottle to take a shot of unspecified liquor, and drops it in the trash. The hair of the dog has been the only way he can stand to get his mornings started these past few months. It’s all getting worse for Ren.
As he finally brushes his teeth while multitasking to comb his hair, Ren catches Kyosuke peering in at him from his peripheral. Even without his glasses, Ren always knows his son’s form. Spitting out toothpaste before rinsing his mouth clean, Ren turns to face the boy.
“Almost.” He swivels his head to catch a glimpse at himself in the mirror one more time. “Yeah, I guess. Where are my glasses?”
“Well, you wouldn’t, so that makes sense. Come on. Let’s go to the kitchen. I remember getting water when I came in last night. I must have left them in there.”
“Okay!” Kyosuke is always so agreeable. Ren is fortunate to have a cheerful yet docile child. I got really lucky with him. “Can I have miso now?”
“Yes, you can. You’ve been very patient, and you did a good job getting dressed today by yourself. You’re really growing up.”
“Not too fast, though,” Kyosuke worries aloud.
“No, not too fast, but fast enough.”
Yori doesn’t think this will bother Kyosuke. He should know better than that.
“Come on. Don’t take it so hard.”
He often forgets how sensitive Kyosuke is to everything. He would wonder where he gets it from, but truthfully, Ren raises Kyosuke mostly alone. Kyosuke’s fears and anxieties about the world stem directly from the man who worries about him.
“It’ll be fine, Kyosuke. Just enjoy yourself. We should have an easy day together before I go to work.”
“Oh! Can we do morning stretches?” Kyosuke is fond of repetition, which Ren can appreciate.
“You can stretch while I make breakfast. Now, where are my glasses?”
It’s starting to become a bit of a bother. Making his way through the living room’s open floor, he finds his glasses, which he seems to have tossed carelessly last night. Inspecting them, they seem fine enough, though a new scratch in the lens has him thinking this day might be more challenging than he anticipated.
Can nothing ever just be easy? I feel like I find a new problem every day…
He can hear the television in the background as Kyosuke diligently exercises. Ren goes to the fridge, opening it with anticipation that he’ll have everything he needs. It’s more bare than he remembers from the last time he cooked, though he has brought in a bit more takeout than normal. Ren hates to do it, but sometimes he’s too tired to meal prep all day when he’s constantly gone and unable to provide a real home-cooked meal. That’s why breakfast and lunch are so important to him. If he can feed his family that way, leaving them prepared for dinners without him, he can at least rely on that. He wishes he could make every meal for Kyosuke and his mother, but life isn’t like that for them, and part of that comes down to the decisions Ren has made. They are hard to swallow.
He manages to throw together not quite what they requested, but something good enough, with the promise that he’ll do better tomorrow. He says that a lot. It’s something he always wants to do. Ren is trying, but even he knows that’s often not good enough.
While his family never complains, he wishes they would sometimes. Then, he remembers that he might not be able to take that kind of honesty. It’s one thing to bemoan over himself. It’s another to hear outright. Besides, he has someone in his life for that. Someone who constantly reminds him of his mistakes.
I have a lot of people for that.
They eat breakfast together in Ren’s mother’s room. Kyoko Hatanaka is a sick woman, and she has been for a long time. With a low immune system, naturally prone to pneumonia, and overall complicated health from birth, she was lucky to have Ren. It was like a miracle. He was her miracle, even if he’s always been hyper-aware of how much he complicated things for her—how much harder he made her life by merely being born.
They have no other family. He knows it’s because of him.
I don’t even have a dad. If I did, I doubt it would have been different. People look at me all the time like I don’t belong here. Like there’s something…different about me.
But he’s found that what intimidates or dissuades people from him by day works well to his advantage at night beneath red lights. What makes him different by day lures in customers by night. A host club is only as good as its number-one host. Ren makes sure he’s worthy of that title. He’s not the manager and high rank for no reason. It is frustrating to be so beloved by night and so avoided by day. It is the stigma of his life. He is from a single mother and, thus, is now a single parent.
It has to be more than that, right? It’s the way people look at me before they even know that about me. Before they know anything about me. Like they seem something I can’t. Like they know something about me…
By lunchtime, Ren and Kyosuke have had a promising morning. Breakfast, stretching, a bit of housework, and even an hour for one of their dramas. Standing, Ren promises to make Kyosuke something for lunch, making his way to the kitchen to repeat his morning routine.
Damn. I can’t avoid it anymore.
“Kyosuke?” he calls as he makes his way back out to the living room. The boy is alert immediately. “How about you come to the store with me, okay?”
“Look! There’s a sale!” Kyosuke is already grabbing a basket as they enter the Lucky Mart, and Ren is doing his best to avoid a woman who seems to know him. “Another sale! Wow! So many! Papa, look!”
No, Ren’s body language seems to tell the woman as he follows Kyosuke’s youthful whims. We don’t know each other. I’m not him here.
“Wow. That’s, uh, that’s great, Son. How about you grab a few things, okay? I need to go to the beauty aisle.”
“You’re always in the beauty aisle.”
“I, uh, heh. Well…” Ren takes his moment for a clever exit, patting his son on the head as he strays to do some private shopping. Kyosuke is a smart boy, and he’s already confident enough to grab what they need on a budget. That kid is more worried about our finances than I am. “Oh, here we go.”
Sorting through a few brands, Ren grabs a collection of new shampoo and conditioner, a bottle of mouthwash, floss, some new foundation, and various other items he feels might enhance the look. The cologne here is too cheap, so he’ll have to order another bottle imported, but it’s worth it.
Besides, that…comes out of the budget from work. I can make that a work expense.
Reuniting with his son, he tosses his items in the basket he takes from Kyosuke’s hands, encouraging Kyosuke to start gathering vegetables. They can only afford a few cuts of fish this week, but Ren is sure he can make that work. He lets Kyosuke pick each vegetable as he always does, allowing his offspring to go through a moderately tedious process as Ren idly checks his phone..
Just a few messages from his employees, but nothing worth worrying about. No one has called out, and they’re smart not to unless it’s a real emergency. Only a few push it with him, but Ren quickly reminds them who the king is.
You work for me, he often tells them. And I…work for Him. The latter is always a personal reminder.
Once they’re finished, Ren grabs the rest of the usual staples, the fish he’s worked into their budget, and makes his way to one of the checkout lines. They only have to wait a few minutes before their items are being scanned, totals ringing up fast…and far out of their expenses. Ren cringes, planning to just take the hit or ask for a few things to be removed with a white lie of Oh, I forgot we already had that at home. He was going to flirt a bit with the cashier, but Kyosuke’s whining cut him off.
“No,” he whines, eyes welling with tears. “Papa, no! The signs said there were sales.”
It’s hard to reason with a child, although Ren still tries. These are the moments to make ‘learning lessons’. That’s what he tells himself as judgmental eyes fall over them, patient shoppers overhearing their small dispute.
“It’s fine, Kyosuke. Sometimes, things aren’t always what we’re told. Things change all the time. We just have to adapt to it, even if we don’t want to or aren’t prepared. Does that make sense?”
Smooth save. I’m pretty good at this.
“I’m sure it was just a mistake.”
“But we can’t afford all of this, Papa!” Kyosuke exclaims, trying to reach up to grab items he’s ready to run and return. Ren encourages him to stop, grabbing Kyosuke gently by the arms. “Your credit card is almost maxed out! It’ll get declined!! And you only have a little bit of money! What are we going to do—?!”
What the hell?! What the hell?! Has he been in the bills again? I need to put those up higher…
“I have money, Kyosuke. I got paid recently. Don’t worry.” Besides, people are starting to stare. “I’ll put it on my credit card. I already made the payment. You don’t even need to worry about this, Son.”
He tells the cashier to continue, putting the tab on his card, cringing inside, and carrying their bags as Kyosuke holds onto one very carefully. They leave quietly, but Ren can feel the eyes on their back as they exit. It doesn’t matter. They have what they need now, so Ren is ready to take Kyosuke home.
They pass by a few food vendors as it’s getting late. He knows by the time he gets home, unloads everything, and manages to make lunch, it’ll be more of a late lunch or an early dinner.
“How about we stop somewhere for a second, okay?”
“Where?” Kyosuke pauses, looking up at his dad. Still holding the bag carefully, he seems to have recovered from his minor meltdown at the store. “I’m hungry.”
“I know. How about we get something special today, hm?”
“Yeah! Can we get taiyaki?”
“We can. We’ll grab some for Grandma to take home, too.” Ren offers to take the bag for Kyosuke, who graciously accepts. “Oh, and Kyosuke? You need to let me focus on the budget. That’s not something you should be thinking about at your age. In fact, you should focus on school starting next year.”
“I guess so,” Kyosuke replies uncertainly.
“What? I thought you were excited to start school. You were a few months ago.”
I should have expected this. I already kept him out of kindergarten. That was probably a mistake, but I wanted more time with him. Hm. I guess this is my selfishness coming back to bite me.
“Well, I-I am excited…but I’m also scared! I won’t know anyone there! And you won’t be there, a-and Grandma will be all alone!”
That last part bothers Ren. He doesn’t even regard it, instead changing his strategy with Kyosuke to one more promising. Besides, Ren hasn’t quite figured that all out yet. How can he be everywhere all at once for everyone all the time? How can anyone do that?
“I know it seems scary, but it’s something we all do in life. Even I went to school.”
“No, you didn’t,” Kyosuke giggles.
“What?” asks Ren, shaking his head dismissively at his son as they begin to walk toward the nearest stall that serves their purpose. “Of course I did. What are you talking about? You’ve seen my photos. I was your age once, Kyosuke.”
“No, because you were never that young!”
“W-what? Do you think I’ve always been this old?”
The lack of any hesitation wounds Ren’s pride. He is a vain man, so his looks mean a lot, and he’s only twenty-seven, so he’s not that old. He is starting to feel it, though. The younger hosts are making him more nervous with each day that passes. This haunts him. Yori can’t stand the thought of getting to even thirty.
“Seriously? No way! Oh, and don’t ever say that to your mother. She’ll kill me.” Kill me. Not you. “She’s, uh, you know…she’s…”
If she could hear us, I would already be dead.
“Hmm? Oh, right. Yeah, go ahead. Here.” Ren sets the bags down. His arms are getting tired, so this works out as he hands Kyosuke a few bills. “Make sure to order enough for all of us, okay? I’m going to make a call.”
Kyosuke is such a polite boy. He generally makes a great impression wherever he goes. He always looks good for Ren, is very respectful, and minds himself. However, he is incredibly cautious, so he tends to assume the worst if he feels threatened. Ren has tried to minimize anything threatening in Kyosuke’s life, but there are things even he can’t protect his son from, and he’s learning to accept that. He won’t be able to protect Kyosuke forever, but he can protect him now. He can always guide him. As long as he’s alive, anyway. After he dies, he imagines Kyosuke will live a pretty free life.
The call he makes is admittedly important. It’ll decide if he’s getting a nightly bonus after work or not, and Ren needs every dollar he can scrounge up. Even if it’s just one client, he can easily work his time’s worth out of it. Enough to make the week a little easier, at least. From there, he can book out more regularly, like he usually does. Things have just been a bit more complicated recently.
My life is complicated. It’s easier to leave it at that. It’s easier to ignore the complications he makes for himself. My life has always been complicated. I don’t even think I’d recognize myself from back then. I don’t think I even know who Yori is.
Because he is Yori Hatanaka. He is also Ren. That’s where it becomes complicated.
Kyosuke doesn’t know Ren, but he knows Yori. Yori is Kyosuke’s father. Ren is the man who masquerades at night, hosts women, and comes home later than any respectable father should. This is what he knows; this is what his life is.
Getting the affirmation he requires, Ren hangs up the phone as Kyosuke returns to his father in a balancing act. Three to-go boxes are stacked in a bag that he’s carefully trying not to spill. Ren helps him, swapping him out with something a little lighter and rearranging the load to be easier to carry home.
I should stop by the Easy Mart to grab cigarettes tonight. I bet Akira will be working. He usually is.
“Let’s go home, Kyosuke. We don’t want this to get cold, okay?”
Kyosuke is a good son. Ren wishes he could be a better father to him. Regardless, they walk home together, and Ren listens to his son’s countless stories, observations, and random facts he’s learned. They practice a bit of English, which Kyosuke fares well enough. Ren tries to teach him a few phrases in French, and for the last time that day, Ren smiles with a sense of true purpose and authenticity. These are the last moments of the day when he can be Kyosuke’s father.
These are the last hours of Yori.
When they get home, he will be who he always is inside. He will become Ren. Yori never goes out at night. Ren never sees the sun.
