Three of Hearts: Part 2
"Hey, Naoto?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure, what is it?" Looking up from the steaming cup of tea on the table in front of him,
Ken gazed at Naoto’s back as the other washed a sinkful of dishes. They had just completed
dinner and Naoto absolutely refused to let Ken lend a hand in cleaning up since it was his first
day. The half-American watched his roommate’s back a moment before speaking again.
"I took a look at the books in your room after you left," he said.
"Oh yeah?" Naoto replied, placing a dish on a wooden rack to dry.
"You’ve got a lot of romance novels. Do you read them?" A shrug.
"Sometimes," Naoto said. "They’re for my sister when she visits, but I read them when
I’m bored. Why do you ask?" There was a pause that made Naoto a little uncomfortable. Then,
Ken spoke again.
"You’re the writer of those books, aren’t you, Nao Matsumoto?" Ken’s head snapped up
as he heard the plate shatter into pieces. He gazed over at his roommate to gauge his reaction.
Naoto’s back was still turned to him but it was stiff, unmoving. His hands, wet with dishwater,
hung limply at his sides; droplets of water dangled from his fingertips before spattering on the
floor.
"How did you know?" Naoto’s voice was small, weak as he spoke. He heard a sigh
from behind him but didn’t turn to face Ken.
"I’ve heard of you before," Ken said before taking a short sip from his tea. "The open
manuscript on your bed was a hint. I also saw a copy of Sleepless Beauty on one of your
shelves; it’s your most popular work so far." He looked up, noting how much stiffer Naoto’s
back had become at his words. "I didn’t think it was you at first. My mother reads your stories.
She and my aunt would always talk about how great of a writer Nao Matsumoto must be to create
such popular romance stories. I usually ignore them but sometimes I listen. To tell you the truth,
I was surprised when I put two and two together."
"Why?" He shrugged casually.
"Because your name, Naoto, is a boy’s name. But Nao is a girl’s name. I never would
have thought people would call you Nao for short."
"They don’t. It’s my sister’s pet name for me. She’s always called me that. My editor
likes it too it seems." A short pause followed. "I didn’t think you would look through my room
that closely while I was gone." Ken grinned before taking another drink from his tea.
"I’m pretty observant and curious. Anyway, my ex-wife loved to read your stories as
well. Even made me read one once. That’s kind of how I remembered." Lifting his eyes, Ken
suddenly found Naoto staring at him with questioning dark orbs.
"Ex-wife?" the writer asked. Ken felt heat rising to his face; he fumbled to hide the
blush.
"That’s another story," he quickly replied. "Still, I was surprised to discover who you
are. Issei said you were a junior high school teacher."
"I am." Ken watched as Naoto knelt to pick up the shattered pieces of plate, tossing
them into the trash before turning to finish the other dishes. He spoke above the clattering of wet
dishes. "I’m a homeroom teacher for third year students."
"Issei said you liked kids so you became a teacher."
"Yeah." A short pause followed. "Ken?"
"Yeah?" Gazing over his shoulder, Naoto held Ken’s eyes with his own as he spoke.
"About what you saw...." Leaning back in his chair, Ken waved the rest of Naoto’s
unfinished comment away. He smiled broadly, running a hand through his hair as he did so.
"Don’t worry about it," he said. "I won’t tell a soul. Until everyone else knows who you
are, my lips are sealed." A soft smile creeped across Naoto’s face before he turned back. In the
silence that followed, Ken had to wonder how his life was going to change and what other secrets
he would discover.