v. it was raining outside

Almost without a warning, the grey clouds finally released its load and Kaminaga found droplets of water trickled down the window glass. The café they were sitting in was one of those that opened near the main street, and Kaminaga could see people scurrying underneath their umbrellas when shifting his gaze outside.

"It's raining again…." He mulled, words dwindling off his lips. It's the kind of sentence that didn't need to be completed.

"What do you expect," replied Miyoshi noncommittally, "it's June."

"Summer really is something, isn't it?"

"It is," the man ran a hand through his own hair, looking rather annoyed as he puffed on his cigarette. Miyoshi hated summer for its humidity, rendering his hair difficult to be set the way he wanted it to. He hated the incessant rain too, since he said it'd ruin their suits, soak their shoes, and all sorts of complaints that who knows when would stop if it weren't for Kaminaga cutting off with, "Aren't you just like a cat, hating the rain and all that stuff?" which successfully rewarded him a glare. He liked how when it was only between the two of them, Miyoshi would let his feelings shown from time to time—irritated, pleased, amused, and even sometimes worried—it's like an anchor to Kaminaga's own emotions; an assurance, that they were neither monsters nor machines; a proof, that they were all still humans inside.

Initially, Amari had taken a streetcar with them to Kagurazaka, but about half an hour after sitting and finishing his cup of coffee, the man said he needed to pick up something in Hongo and went ahead. If Hatano had also been there, he and Kaminaga would've probably teased and pried into what the spy was about to do, but as Miyoshi was his companion, he found himself uninterested in trying to annoy the others. Once, it did cross his mind if Amari realized something between Miyoshi and him that he chose to give them privacy, but he was nonetheless glad that they were left alone. Inside the building where they lived, he found almost no time for them to be alone, the time when he could see hints of what perhaps might be the real Miyoshi and not just his spy persona; Kaminaga knew he was only fulfilling his selfishness now, and admitted that he was indeed a quite greedy man.

While Kaminaga did enjoy the time they spent with the others too, drinking all night and playing the Joker Game until the sun rose, there was just a different feeling when it was only him and Miyoshi; their movements more refined, the conversations went deeper, and words turned subtle yet also a little bit more honest. He didn't realize when it started, but somehow they've come to share something akin to an unsaid mutual understanding. It was only with Miyoshi that he could also present some sides of himself that was neither Kaminaga the spy nor the man he used to be, little by little at a time, without fear or doubt, and saw that he was being reciprocated in the same manner. Being with Miyoshi was the closest Kaminaga ever felt relaxed; still alert, but not agitated.

They needed each other, in a way none of them would ever convey in words.

He ordered a second cup of coffee and Miyoshi glanced at him a little disapprovingly over his newspaper, yet refrained from providing any comments. Listening to the sound of rain and the flipped pages of the other man's reading, Kaminaga waited for his drink to arrive before asking, "What do they say this time?"

"Still nonsense." The spy folded the newspaper and tossed it beside the ashtray.

They had never trusted any news without questioning its authenticity or the possibility of biases, and all the more so ever since the National Mobilization Law was enacted. Being a spy, though, meant there's no worry over it as they would be exempted from being drafted as civilian workers in war industries. If Kaminaga was ignorant enough, he might even consider the members of D-Agency as lucky, for they were still able to afford small luxuries during wartime—but he wasn't, and he knew that this was only false tranquility. He was aware that all these seemingly peaceful days they were living in Greater East Asia Cultural Society were ephemeral, and in just a blink of an eye it would be all gone. The cafeteria laden with cigarette smoke and cards, the resplendent nights spent by drinking and playing around, the quiet mornings when he could find Miyoshi reading a book on his own; these were just life's blessings that Kaminaga could enjoy for a while, but he would never own.

"How do you think this would end?"

"The war?" Miyoshi asked, he's been reading more newspapers than novels lately, sometimes with a mocking smile, and some others with a solemn expression. "Well, seeing how things are going," he paused, turning his eyes to the window in a pensive stare for a few seconds before continuing, "it'll be a full-scale battle in no time—and not just with China, if that's what you're asking."

They could say the empire expansions were being carried out with noble purposes for all he cares, but Kaminaga, just like the other D-Agency spies, wasn't pleased with where Japan was going currently. It was almost ensuring their own downfall, and it was one of the reasons why he volunteered to become a spy in the first place. Kaminaga knew that this was something he had to do himself, and he'd be damned if all were to be left to those idiots in the military. Yet deep inside, buried under his layers of consciousness like information that he'd been trained to absolutely must not give out to the enemies, were small doubts about whether the decision to become what he was now had been the right thing.

"War doesn't make any sense, does it?" Kaminaga blurted out without thinking. It was a simple-minded view, like that of a child, and he immediately regretted saying it.

But just when he had expected Miyoshi to laugh mockingly and look at Kaminaga like he was the biggest fool on earth, the other man only let out a small chortle instead. "War never makes any sense indeed."

Kaminaga watched as Miyoshi sipped the last drop of his own drink, then marveled at the way his fingers danced to tap the corners of his lips with a napkin, elegantly, with not a single waste of motion, as if he'd been disciplined to be an aristocrat since birth. And maybe it was actually the case, and Miyoshi left all his privileges just to become one of these ghosts, collecting and manipulating intelligence for a country that didn't even acknowledge that he existed; imagining this kind of possibilities and scenarios was how Kaminaga sometimes spent his free time.

"Being a spy doesn't make any sense too," Kaminaga said, the spoon in his hand made a pleasant clink as he added sugar to his cup. His voice was enough for Miyoshi to hear, but not for anyone who might be listening.

They glanced discreetly to vicinity, but the tables around them were empty. Only then Miyoshi focused on him, eyebrows lifted to show interest. "How so?"

"I mean," he took a sip, deciding that the amount of sweetness fitted his mood (in a world in which everything was bitter, sometimes he needed a small escape too), "why would you throw a good life just to be, basically, nobody? Risking your head, doing dangerous jobs, living a life of absolute, dark solitude—don't look at me like that, I'm only quoting Yuuki-san, never heard him saying that? I bet he will repeat that in front of all of you too next time he gets the chance—and that being said, there'll be no evidence that you ever existed in the end. Why would anybody want to live like this?" Kaminaga said, purposefully made himself sound irritated, but didn't hide the smile that was slowly finding its way to his lips.

Miyoshi's eyes were serious, but a smile was also tugging on his lips. "Who knows? Perhaps this so-called way of life could be quite addicting."

"Maybe it does. But have you ever wondered?"

"About what?"

"The meaning," Kaminaga said, "of all of this."

There was silence slipping in between them, as the words slowly permeated both of their minds. Kaminaga was asking something that he too didn't think much of. Why did he become a spy? Walking under an alias, cutting off family and old friends, creeping in the ambiguity of not fully being a civilian and yet not also belong in the army; what's the meaning of the life he was living now? If he were to be asked for reasons then he could give a dozen that would sound satisfying, but would it really be an answer to himself? If he had the time to get away and think hard enough, perhaps he could come to an answer. But right now the one thing that he's sure of was, things had been the way they were because it's just how it is. He was a spy because that's just who he was, he breathed lies and feigned because that's just how a spy lives.

(Automatons too, worked the way they did because it's just how they were, weren't they?)

The bell above the front door tinkled as it opened and Amari walked in, with a paper-wrapped package in his hand. He took off his hat, it was a little damp from the remains of the drizzle outside. His eyes met Kaminaga's, but after nodding as a greeting, he made a beeline for the washroom. The third spy's arrival was like an alarm clock, waking both of them up from a dream-like state; Kaminaga asked before any of them could recover fully, "Why did you take up the offer to be a spy, Miyoshi?" His tone was calm, with no hint of urgency. They were prohibited to talk about it, Kaminaga was aware, but he wasn't pressing, he only wanted to know.

For a few seconds, Miyoshi's face was unreadable. The nice curve formed on his lips just a moment ago was now gone completely, and his eyes were stern as they fixed on Kaminaga. The sounds surrounding them didn't vanish thoroughly, but it was as if anything that his ears caught got drowned in water. For a few seconds too, he felt the world froze, drips on the window glass weren't pulled by gravity and the fan on the ceiling stopped spinning. It was the kind of silence that filled his chest with oppressive nausea, as if he was a balloon pumped with too much air, and his body would blow up anytime.

—But Kaminaga needed to know, he must know, just what in the world that had made this man who's sitting across the table, chose the path that he also voluntarily took. For, only by that way, he might also find the meaning of his own choices.

And then Miyoshi blinked, in a way it was so slow that Kaminaga could see his eyelashes fluttering beautifully as he leaned in, just a little bit closer to say something that was no louder than a whisper.

"Who knows," he smiled, "perhaps because it's just the way it is."

Kaminaga let Miyoshi finished the rest of his coffee, to which he finally commented, "Too sweet."

By the time Amari returned to the table, they've already resumed talking about the rain.