Koichi Kimijima slid the card into the deepest drawer. As he closed it, his fingertips lingered on the wood for a moment—as if sealing away some unspoken confession.
He quietly stood, unbuttoned his dress shirt, and changed into a long-sleeve home top and cotton pants. The crisp uniform he wore like armor was finally shed in the stillness of night—along with his identity as a butler, with all its restraint and professionalism.
The gentle expression he’d worn moments ago, reading her card and whispering a prayer—it too vanished, slipping into the shadows. His gaze darkened, a depth untouched even by moonlight.
He moved to the bookshelf, pressed a concealed latch behind a wooden panel—
Click.
The shelf shifted to reveal a hidden compartment. Inside lay a yellowed etiquette manual with its pages hollowed out. Nestled within was a discreet but exquisitely expensive bottle of Yamazaki 18‑Year Whiskey.
He poured a measure by the faint moonlight, the amber liquid rippling in the glass—quiet but potent, like feelings that had never been voiced. Sitting at his desk, he sipped and then retrieved a newer notebook from the drawer.
He began to write:
That moment—her eyes—I’ll never forget.
I had only come to wait while she and her friends shopped, but instead I saw her watching all those couples, hand in hand, ascending the escalator to the third floor.
She didn’t smile, nor did she sigh—she just looked, quietly, almost imperceptibly. But I saw.
It wasn’t envy. Rather, it was a longing, reined in so many times.
Not an “I want that too” she’d speak aloud, but a wish buried in her heart for years:
“If only it were possible…”
In that instant, I felt anger—not at her, but at the world.
She deserved to be cherished, held carefully in someone’s palm—yet she’d forced herself into silence.
As if wanting more, inching closer, would become someone else’s problem.
I… didn’t want her to go home tonight disappointed.19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeTS1TLPmQi
I didn’t want her to end a day like this with nothing.So I took her hand. I didn’t say a word. I simply held it—and we walked up that dreamlike escalator.
I thought she’d pull away—19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8zi6TQB9HI
but she didn’t. She just froze, head bowed, her ears flushed…19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFeWovCMXvu
and she let me hold her hand, quietly, as we climbed.In that moment, I almost believed—19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK7xUkJRQxT
maybe, we could be just like ordinary lovers.19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡB0ZuEhJozQ
No lady and butler. No forbidden relationship.19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9SSOR8upaT
Just two people holding hands, walking toward each other.But later, she said she didn’t want to watch the fireworks.
I could tell she was lying.
She, who adored romance, feigned exhaustion and tomorrow’s exam…19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhrnu5dvQXz
even saying, “I might have a heart attack”—It had almost shaken me. That admission.
Because I realized—I was trying to make her happy.
And yet… maybe she was afraid.
Afraid we’d truly change.19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyI9aEflWbj
Afraid if she continued forward, she wouldn’t be able to stop.She always saw me as calm, composed.19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcfElBxTXId
But she didn’t know—I’m just afraid of losing control.Because once I lose control,19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK7ekiswwLS
I lose the right to stay by her side.She doesn’t know how many times I stopped myself from reaching for her hand.19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡavFcxNpmG6
Or how much strength I needed not to kiss her forehead at the top of the escalator.19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡS0ISCmDmEO
Not to say, “I love you.”I’m not a perfect butler.19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ62djHGI9CF
I’m just… good at hiding it.19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ07UaDerkqQ
She doesn’t know how many times filthy fantasies of her have crossed my mind.19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVFuJ0hVoQx
19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡydQ9caSTtS
I served her with my hands. Touched her only in my mind.19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3SyTxwakbp
19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVULlUgQCPU
She thinks I’m composed. That I’m dutiful. But in my head—I've undressed her a hundred times.19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKdZXBlzZig
19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGGBJfDgtj3
I just hid those thoughts well—19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsiiVioUUee
so they appear as loyalty.But in truth—she has always been in my heart.19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡulE1QQDbav
Not even for a second—has she ever left.
He paused, lifted the glass, and downed the whiskey in a single swallow. The burn sliced through him like a fierce memory, but his eyes stayed dry. He stood, walking back to the bookshelf. This time, he pulled another latch—a second hidden compartment—and retrieved a slim silver lockbox, etched with a fine groove at the bottom edge.
He opened it with barely audible precision. Inside rested an older, well-worn notebook—the same kind he’d just used—its cover frayed from years of use. Neatly written on the front: “Future Journal.”
By moonlight, he opened to a marked page from years ago, comparing his earlier entries to the one he just wrote.
After a long silence, he smiled quietly—almost imperceptibly—as though relieved that everything stayed on script.
He closed the book and whispered to the shadows:
“All is still as foreseen.”
19Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTxAYs9cT1M
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