Chapter 2: Complete Idiot

「 Nathan 」

I wake up feeling like I've had too little sleep. My muscles are still heavy, my mind is foggy, but the dim light coming through the gap in the curtain tells me that it's already daylight. I have no idea what time it is, and frankly I don't care. I just lie there, listening.

There's a sound coming from the kitchen, soft movements, the clink of utensils, something bubbling lightly. Hiroshi. He always moves in a controlled, almost silent way, probably afraid of disturbing the space around him. But when you're used to silence, any noise seems louder.

I stretch and run my hand over my face before finally standing up. The icy floor beneath my feet makes me shiver for a moment, but I ignore the sensation and walk to the door. Before I leave the room, I stop for a second. I think about what I have to do today, the weight of Saturday approaching, and for some reason I let out a sigh without realising it.

When I get to the kitchen, Hiroshi is standing with his back to me, stirring something on the hob. The smell of freshly brewed tea fills the air, mixed with a faint aroma of toasted bread. He hasn't noticed me yet. I watch for a moment, without hurrying, without saying anything.

I stand there for a moment, watching Hiroshi without him realising. The way he moves - calm, methodical, almost too careful - has always struck me. His black hair falls slightly over the back of his head, still messy from sleep, but not in a sloppy way. On the contrary, it looks natural, always in the right place.

Her features are delicate, but not fragile. His pale skin contrasts with the darkness of his hair, and there's something about his profile, the soft line of his jaw and the subtle arch of his eyebrows, that makes him always look serene, even when he's distracted. Or maybe it's just me.

The truth is that I never pay much attention to people. Not what goes beyond what's necessary. But Hiroshi is different. Somehow, he occupies the space without ever demanding attention, and maybe that's exactly what makes me notice him more than I should.

I take a step forwards and rest my hand on the doorframe, the sound finally catching his attention. He turns round, blinking as if coming back to reality, and stares at me for a second before offering a slight nod, an almost imperceptible gesture.

His dark eyes widen for a moment before he quickly turns back to the cooker. It doesn't take much to notice the subtle change in his posture. He stiffens a little, his fingers gripping the spoon more firmly than necessary.

- Good morning. - I murmur, my voice still hoarse from sleep.

- Ah... good morning - he replies a little late, seeming to need a second to process my presence.

I walk over to the table, pull out a chair and throw myself into it without ceremony. Only then do I realise why he's so nervous. I'm shirtless. It's a habit of mine, no big deal, but Hiroshi seems uncertain where to look. His eyes move too quickly, from the cup to the cooker, to the toaster, to anything that isn't me.

- What are you doing? - I ask, resting my chin on my hand.

- Tea - he replies quickly, perhaps too quickly. - And toast.

I let out a low sound of approval and let a smile escape, just to see if he reacts. He doesn't reply, just presses his mouth into a thin line, concentrating too hard on pouring the tea into his cup. But I notice the way his shoulders tense slightly, trying to hold himself together in the face of something he doesn't even fully understand.

I take a sip of the still-warm tea, feeling the warmth spread through my body as I watch Hiroshi squint. He's too busy for someone who's just making toast. He fiddles with the pot of jam, adjusts the knife, slides a plate across the table as if trying to find the perfect place for it.

I decide to strike up a conversation.

- Do you have plans today?

It takes him half a second to answer.

- Hm... to study.

- What for?

- History.

I raise an eyebrow. Short answers. His gaze fixed on what he's doing. He's always been quieter than most people, but now he seems... distant.

- Is everything all right? - I ask, bluntly.

He finally looks at me, a little too quickly.

- Yes, it is. - And he goes back to spreading jam on his toast.

I don't know why, but it doesn't sound like a convincing "yes". I think about insisting, but something tells me that if I push him, he'll close up even more.

I shrug and take another sip of tea. Maybe it's just tiredness. Maybe he just doesn't want to talk. But for some reason I get that nagging feeling that there's something wrong, something he won't tell me.

Before I can say anything else, the sound of a call interrupts the silence. Hiroshi's mobile phone vibrates on the table, and he quickly picks it up, his eyes widening slightly when he sees the name on the screen.

- Ah... chotto matte. - He mumbles to me before answering, bringing the phone to his ear. - Moshi moshi?

His tone changes completely. The voice that was once tense and hesitant now flows naturally, wrapped in a softness I've never heard before.

- Nee-chan? Hisaiburi da ne! Genki?

The reply from the other side comes quickly, and Hiroshi lets out a low laugh, relaxing his shoulders in a way he doesn't usually do with me.

- Un, un... daijoubu da yo. Gakkou wa... maa, isogashii kedo ne.

I stop pretending I'm not listening. I don't understand a word they're saying, but the way the words slide out of their mouths catches me. The language sounds melodic in his voice, so different from the restrained, methodical way he speaks in English.

- Eh? Boku no seikatsu? Betsu ni... itsumo doori da yo.

The sounds are light, almost like a whisper, and without realising it, I find myself watching the way his lips move as he speaks. The rhythm, the intonation, the ease with which the words come out. It's strange. I listen to him talk all the time, but now he sounds like someone else.

Hiroshi laughs again, and this time I realise how genuine it sounds, without any hesitation. Almost without meaning to, I smile along.

Without thinking too much, I start quietly imitating what Hiroshi says.

- Daijoubu da yo... - I mumble, trying to get the intonation right. The word sounds strange in my mouth, as if it doesn't belong there. I try again, this time lengthening the syllables a little. - Itsumo doori da yo...

I try not to laugh. It definitely didn't sound natural.

Hiroshi doesn't seem to notice my clumsy attempt to reproduce the language. He continues his conversation with his sister, his voice flowing so smoothly that it almost makes me want to keep trying.

- Maa, isogashii kedo ne... - I repeat to myself, but end up getting the pronunciation wrong. This makes me let out a low laugh, shaking my head.

I have no idea what I'm saying, but there's something amusing about the way the language sounds. I've never paid attention to it before, but now I realise how much more at ease Hiroshi sounds when he speaks Japanese. It's almost as if his English version is just a shadow of the original.

I cross my arms on the table and rest my head on them, still laughing at myself. If Hiroshi hears me, he'll probably give me that impassive look of someone who doesn't know whether to laugh or feel embarrassed. And for some reason, this idea amuses me even more.

Still laughing, I take out my mobile phone and open Google Translate. If Hiroshi can speak Japanese so naturally, then I can at least try to say something minimally decent.

I quickly type a simple, cute sentence, something like "Your Japanese sounds very nice". It seems safe enough. I press the translate button and stare at the characters that appear on the screen. I don't even try to read, I just trust blindly and press the audio icon to hear the pronunciation.

- Anata no nihongo wa... - I begin, trying to repeat what I hear. But then my expression changes as I fumble with the strange sounds. - ... baka mitai da ne.

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I notice the immediate change in Hiroshi's posture. He freezes in place. His gaze fixes on me with a mixture of shock and disbelief.

- E-eto... nee-chan, gomen ne. Ato de denwa suru. - he says hurriedly into the phone, clearly uncomfortable. Then he hangs up without waiting for an answer.

I frown.

- What? What did I say?

Hiroshi stares at me for a second, blinking slowly.

- You just called me... a complete idiot.

My mouth drops open, but no words come out. I glance back at the mobile phone screen, and my stomach sinks as I realise my mistake. The sentence I wanted to say has turned into something like "Your Japanese is ridiculously stupid".

- Oh, shit. - I mutter, feeling the heat rise to my ears. - I didn't mean that!

Hiroshi continues to stare at me, still processing what he's heard.

- Seriously, I'm sorry. The translator tricked me! - I put my hands up, trying to look as innocent as possible.

For a moment, he doesn't say anything. He just sighs, rubbing his temple as if he needed patience.

- Nathan... just... don't try to speak Japanese again.

I laugh, a little nervously, but Hiroshi doesn't seem entirely convinced of my innocence.

Hiroshi sighs, still holding the mobile phone as if he needed a moment to absorb what had happened.

- I'm going to lie down for a while... - he says, walking past me with an indecipherable look on his face. - I still have time before you need the room.

He doesn't say it in full, but his tone suggests that he wants to be alone for a while. I feel even worse. He must think I wanted to mock him, or that I'm trying to ridicule his language.

Damn.

I see the bedroom door close behind him and I let out a long sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. How could I have been such an idiot? I just wanted to say something nice and ended up insulting the guy. And what's worse, Hiroshi never says much about himself. The fact that he was speaking Japanese with his sister seemed like a rare moment when he really let loose... and I've ruined it.

I pick up my mobile phone and open the browser. If I want to redeem myself, I have to do it right.

"Japanese culture for beginners."

I click on the first link and start reading. Terms of respect, formalities, how to address people... it all seems much more complex than I imagined. It's not just a different language. It's a whole way of thinking.

The more I read, the more I realise how much Hiroshi must have to adapt all the time, thinking about what to say and how to say it, choosing the right words in English, a language that perhaps doesn't sound so natural to him.

And I, with a simple translation error, may have spoilt what could have been a moment of connection.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I need to fix this. Somehow.

I'm so focused on the mobile phone screen that I don't even realise how much time has passed. The more I read, the more I realise that Japanese culture is full of details that I had never stopped to consider.

I click on the first link and start reading. Terms of respect, formalities, how to address people... it all seems much more complex than I imagined. It's not just a different language. It's a whole way of thinking.

The more I read, the more I realise how much Hiroshi must have to adapt all the time, thinking about what to say and how to say it, choosing the right words in English, a language that perhaps doesn't sound so natural to him.

And I, with a simple translation error, may have spoilt what could have been a moment of connection.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I need to fix this. Somehow.

I'm so focused on the mobile phone screen that I don't even realise how much time has passed. The more I read, the more I realise that Japanese culture is full of details that I had never stopped to consider.

The formality, the respect implicit in every expression, the way even a simple "thank you" can have different levels of politeness depending on the situation... It's not just a different language. It's a completely different way of communicating.

I bite my lip, reflecting. It must be exhausting for Hiroshi to live between two worlds all the time, always choosing the right words, trying to fit in. I wonder if he misses speaking without having to think so much, without having to mentally translate every feeling before expressing it.

- What are you looking at?

Hiroshi's voice pulls me out of my thoughts so suddenly that I almost drop my mobile phone. I look up and see him standing in the bedroom doorway, blinking slowly, his face still slightly marked by the pillow.

Damn. I have no idea how long he's been there.

- Ha... nothing. I mean... - I put my hand to the back of my neck and lower my mobile phone a little, feeling strangely caught out. - Just... doing some research.

Hiroshi frowns slightly and walks over to the table. His eyes drop to the screen before I can switch it off.

- Japanese culture?

There's no judgement in his voice, just surprise. But somehow it makes me more uneasy.

- Yeah, I... - I sigh, deciding to be honest. - I felt a bit bad about talking rubbish before. I didn't want you to think I was making fun of you.

He stares at me for a moment, and something in his expression changes. I can't tell what, but I feel like my words have taken him by surprise.

Hiroshi looks away, takes a deep breath, and then sits down in the chair opposite me.

- I didn't think you were mocking me... it just came as a shock to hear it out of the blue. - He runs a hand through his hair, looking a little uncomfortable. - But you don't have to worry about that.

Silence settles in for a moment, and I find myself watching Hiroshi more closely. He seems... different now. Less tense, perhaps. As if he's processing something he doesn't want to say out loud.

Perhaps, for the first time, he's realised that I really do care.

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