Source
https://kakuyomu.jp/works/2912051600327232539
The intense centrifugal force generated by a fully automatic washing machine sometimes creates the illusion that it might even be capable of separating the grime from the human spirit.
However, from a physics standpoint, it’s simply imparting kinetic energy to the water and clothes to physically strip away the dirt. There is absolutely no spiritual cleansing involved.
2:30 a.m. A seedy laundromat where a cracked fluorescent light buzzes.
Sitting lightly on a cheap plastic bench, staring expressionlessly at the contents of the spinning drum, I found myself pondering the boundary between fluid dynamics and spiritual theory.
“…So. A state-of-the-art drum-type washing machine worth hundreds of thousands of yen, installed in a high-rise apartment protected by multiple layers of security, ‘intentionally’ stopped right before washing your outfit for tomorrow’s lesson. Is that your understanding?”
“It wasn’t on purpose! I swear, it really did beep an error sound! It broke! I didn’t do anything!”
“You’re not a computer novice, after all…”
“B-but it’s true!”
Shizuku, sitting next to me, retorted with a sulky expression.
As usual, I went over to hang out late at night, and she declared with a grave expression, “The washing machine broke.”
Since it’s dangerous for a woman to be out alone late at night, I came all the way to the laundromat in full disguise, keeping a close watch on my surroundings.
She’s hiding more than half her face with a hat pulled down low and a black mask. Even though it was late at night, the very fact that a top idol was in this seedy, back-alley space filled with the smell of laundry detergent felt like some kind of glitch.
“If you’d just called the support center, a professional repairman would’ve been here by tomorrow morning. You didn’t need to go out of your way to come to a closed-off room like this with zero security.”
“But I didn’t have any clothes to wear tomorrow. Besides…”
Shizuku shifted her mask slightly and took a deep breath, inhaling the air of the laundromat.
“This place has such a soothing smell. It’s the same scent as Minato’s hoodie—cheap fabric softener.”
“Could you stop subtly dissing my standard of living? Compared to the scent of that organic detergent in your room that costs thousands of yen a bottle, I guess it does smell like a bunch of chemicals.”
“I’m not dissing you. I feel way more at ease with this smell than I do in that sterile apartment of mine. Hey, doesn’t this feel kind of like a couple living together doing chores late at night? Isn’t that nice?”
Shizuku chuckled softly and rested her head gently on my shoulder. Even though I figured there probably weren’t any reporters still hanging around at this hour, I pushed her head back, as if to pry it off.
The spinning washing machine. The scent of cheap fabric softener. The hum of the fluorescent lights.
For her, this everyday space seemed to function as a perfect little shelter, completely cut off from the stifling world outside.
But our peaceful moment was suddenly shattered.
Clatter.
The creaky sliding door at the entrance burst open with a violent clang.
I reflexively looked toward the entrance and saw a middle-aged man staggering in, reeking of alcohol. He wasn’t carrying anything. He wasn’t here to do laundry; he was probably just a drunk who’d wandered in to escape the rain, wind, or cold.
“…”
I jumped to my feet and pulled Shizuku’s arm.
Then, stepping in front of her to shield her, I pressed myself close to her.
“Minato…”
“Shh. Don’t make a sound.”
I could hear the man plop down on the bench and start snoring loudly.
A dark, narrow crevice. Shizuku and I were pressed so close together that we could feel each other’s breath on our skin. I could feel the beat of her heart against my chest.
A top idol, hiding from a drunkard in a late-night laundromat.
What if the man woke up right now and saw her face? What if a tabloid photographer’s lens were trained on this crevice?
The worst-case scenarios were running through my mind at breakneck speed.
But when I looked up into Shizuku’s eyes, there was no trace of fear of the paparazzi or wariness of a stranger.
“…Hey, Minato.”
She gripped the front of my hoodie tightly and whispered in a voice as soft as a breath right next to my ear.
“What if someone finds us here… and we get photographed by a weekly magazine, and my idol career is completely over?”
“……”
“Then I wouldn’t be ‘public property’ anymore, would I?”
In the darkness, only her eyes glowed with an abnormal intensity, shining brightly.
It wasn’t fear. It was a viscous, dark mass of possessiveness and dependence, yearning to destroy her own place in the world and plunge completely into mine.
“If everything were to shatter, could I… stay by Minato’s side forever?”
If centrifugal force were to fling everything away, and all that remained was this dark, narrow crevice, then that would be enough.
Her eyes pleaded that very madness.
I exhaled softly, gently placed my hand over hers, and coldly stated the facts.
“…Weekly magazine reporters aren’t so bored that they’d go to the trouble of disguising themselves as a drunk old man in a seedy laundromat like this. Besides, even if you get hit with a penalty fee, I have absolutely no intention of covering it by selling my organs.”
“… Hehe. Minato, you really have no sense of romance.”
At my dry reply, Shizuku gave a small laugh, as if the venom had been drained from her, and buried her face in my chest.
Soon, the impersonal electronic beep signaling the end of the wash cycle rang out.
After confirming that the drunkard, awakened by the sound, had clicked his tongue and left the shop, we finally slipped out through the gap.
“Alright, let’s go home. I can’t keep sacrificing my sleep just to go along with your twisted escape any longer.”
“Yeah. …Thanks, Minato.”
As she took out the laundry and put her heavy mask and hat back on, the dark obsession that had been visible just moments ago had vanished from Shizuku’s profile.
But just like the stainless steel of the washing machine drum reflecting the fluorescent light, deep within her heart, heavy emotions that could never be washed away were undoubtedly still clinging fast.
As if to avert my eyes from that reality, I stepped out into the cold midnight air.
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