Soy Sauce Face — Sedonia Guillone

Length: Novella

Sometimes the best kept secret is the one you keep from yourself…

“I'm an ordinary man with an ordinary life in every way. Except for Jun. That's what I think to myself every night when I watch Jun getting ready for his work as a bar host in Kabukicho. He's everything I'm not. He's the beautiful, graceful, sociable and ambitious counterpart to me -- a hulking, reclusive, completely unambitious guy who'd rather fix car and motorcycle engines all day than interact with people… I'd be happy if Jun just stayed here with me the rest of our lives, in this little apartment we'd once shared with Dad. But Jun has other plans.”

Or so Jun thinks. One night he gets ready and goes to work. But a tragic occurrence derails his career and all his plans for the future.

Through the eyes of his best friend, Tomo, the man who loves him above all others, Jun will be forced to confront himself, his deepest fears, hates, desires. And his deepest love.

Excerpt:

At the open door he pauses. “Okay, thanks.” His eyes lock with mine, the way they did in his mirror's reflection. For a moment, other words seem to hover on his lips, and then he decides not to say them. He's been doing this lately, leaving me to wonder what he would possibly want to say to me. Perhaps some day he will tell me, although if it's something I'd rather not hear, then better he stays silent.

“Get there safely,” I say to his lingering form. I have my own ritual of unsaid things, one of which is, “Please stay home, Jun. You don't have to go to that place. I'll take care of you.” But I don't speak out loud. When I've said it in the past, he's resented it, insisting he needs to do this. He wants to be somebody and make something of his life, according to his own words. Yet, if he saw himself at all through my eyes, even for a moment, he'd understand how much of a somebody he already is. I cherish him and love him. Worship him really -- just by virtue of who he is. He wouldn't be so driven to make something of his life because he'd know he's already accomplished his ultimate goal.

If he saw that, then he'd also understand what his working in Kabukicho does to me, how it makes me worry so much. How protective I feel of him. Though Jun is a grown man of twenty-seven, to me there's something so little and vulnerable about him, I can't help the eerie feeling that snakes through me each night he leaves for work. Tonight it's especially strong.

“I will, Tomo. See you later.”

“Definitely.”

One more flash of his silver-and-black clad figure and the door clicks shut behind him.
I sigh, listening to his boot steps on the cement walkway until the sound fades.
Alone in the apartment, I go and kneel in front of my parents' photographs. Smoke from the incense curls delicately into the air in front of their faces and emits a trace of sandalwood, a scent that echoes how wistful I feel. I look at my mother's face. I was only five when she died. I don't remember much about her except seeing her smile while she made sure I ate and was clean. She never knew Jun as my father did.

I turn to Dad's picture, a portrait of him in the uniform he wore before he was promoted to detective and started wearing a suit to work. In fact, this is how I remember him dressed around the time he added Jun to our family register as a son, the act which I'm sure saved Jun's life. After Jun was abandoned by both his parents, knowing that someone cared so much about him as to make him a son was very healing to his heart. I knew that for sure when Jun stopped calling my father “Nakadai-san” and started calling him Dad.

So why does Jun still want to go off and get a place of his own? Why can't he let himself understand how much he means to me so he'll be happy? Since we met, we've been best friends. In spite of our different interests -- I loved motorcycles and Jun was into fashion -- for the longest time he seemed happy just to hang out with me and Dad. Until Dad was killed. That's when things changed.

I ask my f