The walls were closing in on him.
Goemon had rarely ventured out of his room unless he had to, but now, he felt caged.
Before, the walls had offered him a sanctuary, a safe haven from the outside world that wished to tell him, "The world still moves on," in a whisper. Though he knew it was a lie. When Midori had died, time had stopped and Goemon could not--would not--move from that spot. As long as he stayed, she would be alive in some way. In thinking of her death, she would never actually leave him.
But today felt different, stuffy, thick. Like something was calling out to him to move and to stop stagnating.
He tried to ignore it, he really did, but it was more than an urge: it was a calling.
Without really knowing where he was going, he left the house and started wandering around the town. He instinctively stayed away from the more public places. It was nearing evening and he might meet someone he knew. And then they might think he was recovering, and he wasn't doing that. He was merely moving his moping outside.
The force, whatever it was, led him to the docks. He had always liked the sea, it's gentle calm that held an unbreakable fury was something he aspired to.
But it was the sound of the sea that he liked most. The crashing waves, the 'shhh' of the spray, the chop of the sword...

Sword?!

Another sound reached his ears, the hum and slice of metal against flesh and wood, a rhythm he hadn't heard in years.
Once he had avenged Midori's death, the Zantetsuken had lain in it's place of honor in the family shrine untouched. Like a robot, he made his way toward the sound.
It was near the fishing boats. Piles of slimy, dead fish were being filleted by deft hands. But one pair in particular struck him.
They were graceful, strong, they had callouses from years of work. Yet, they seemed to float with the air and move with knife as if it were an extension of the owner's body. Goemon could tell this person had somehow mastered a part of bushido that had taken him years to learn.
He did not know how long he stood there, but suddenly there was a great rush and the hands had gone. He didn't know where they went, and he suddenly felt very self-aware, so he ran back home.

The next evening, Goemon came prepared. He wore black sunglasses, which he thought made a perfect disguise. It never occurred to him to dress in western clothes.
He found a good spot to watch his hands and just stared. Oblivious to the people looking at him, heedless to the fact that his 'good spot' was actually blocking traffic. Something about those hands calmed him, touched a spot in him that had lain dried and withered, yet still had a faint pulse of life. Maybe it was using its final strength to send Goemon to this place, to take back what he had given up.
There was another rush the same as yesterday, and Goemon looked around in panic. He needed to see where those hands went. Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of them in the crowd and started after them. He followed them for who knows how long, through twists and turns and back alleys. Then they stopped in front of a cheap but decent-looking motel. The hands stopped and turned to face him.
"Care to join me for dinner?"
Goemon's gaze was torn from the hands at the familiar face.
"Beretta? I--" He was about to refuse and pretend like he hadn't been stalking her for two days, but she waved her hands in such a manner that he found himself nodding dumbly and following her to her room.

Beretta didn't do much for dinner. Just heated up some left-overs. Goemon thought it might have been meatloaf, but he didn't know for sure. Not that it mattered. It had been so long since someone had actually sat him down and made him dinner, he would have eaten anything. They ate on a little table that was right next to the bed. She didn't have room for anything else.
When they had finished, Goemon felt almost satisfied for the first time in years. He had watched her the whole time and she handled everything with the same grace she handled her knife.
And at some point during the silence of after dinner, he found himself talking about anything.
He babbled on and on about how everything had gone wrong since Midori died, he didn't know how to relate to his kids, he couldn't even work. He stayed in his room until yesterday, where he had stumbled across her hands and now that was all he could think about. He dreamed of her hands and even at this second he thinks they are the most beautiful things he had ever seen on Earth.
Then, he snapped his mouth shut. He stood up, thanked her for the food, and started making his way to the door.

Beretta stood up and slinked her way in front of the door, but how she beat Goemon was anyone's guess because he was trying to run for his life.
"Where are you going?"
Goemon drew himself up stiffly. "I don't think I need to answer that question. I need to be getting back home."
Beretta locked the deadbolt.
"Beretta? What-what are you doing?"
She came up to him and stood in his face. "You're not leaving until you listen to me: The reason your life is so screwed up is because of you. No, it's not about who's 'fault' it is that Aunt Midori died. We were all broken up. But do you think she would want you to be stuck in a room with nothing but a memory? Aunt Midori loved you and wanted you to be happy. Running away from something because you are afraid of the unknown is just cowardice. Suck it up!"
Something inside Goemon finally clicked, and he felt himself just crumble inside. He back away and sat down on the bed.
"Beretta...I...I don't know what to do."
Beretta sat down next to him and he found himself looking at her hands again, just to occupy his attention.
"I--I...don't know where to start. I've made a mess of so many things...I coudn't just start over, could I? It's not that simple...But I can't continue on like this..."
The hands, Goemon had noticed, moved. Not just in a pattern, but closer. To him. To his hands. They grasped him, and her thumbs started to make little circles on the back of his hands. In a slightly scratched part of his mind, he wondered why he was enjoying it. He stood up again, realizing that even if he had realized what was wrong in his life, he still shouldn't be sitting on a bed, with someone Frolic's age, enjoying something only Midori had done before. And Midori was his wife. Beretta was his niece.
She grabbed his arm. "Where are you going?"
He tried to say he needed to get home to watch his kids, even though they were all out of the house for the weekend, but he found himself instead blushing and stuttering, "I know you are trying to help me, but your actions are producing an effect that I'm sure you're unaware of. I must get home to protect your honor."
That speech had sounded much more convincing in his head.
She looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Yeah, okay, Goemon?" He didn't know when she had started dropping the 'Uncle'.
"I've been around the block a few times. I know darn well what I'm doing."
Goemon shook his head. "No, I don't think you do. You see, um, Midori told me about things and..and...when people do that, it's more than comforting, it's...um..."

Beretta rolled her eyes at how incredible slow her uncle could be, babbling away about 'friendship' and 'love' and bad touch/good touch. Goodness, he must have lived under a rock until somehow he married Midori. She had crushed on him since forever, and thought that someday she would outgrow it. But as she grew up, she realized that his stoic honor and sense of duty turned her girlhood 'like' into a woman's 'love', as stupid as that sounded even to her. And Beretta, being quite a bit like her father in taking things when he wanted it, wasn't going to let this opportunity slip away from her. Because she thought there was more to Goemon's fascination with her than her hands.
"If I don't leave, something will happen!" Goemon finally burst.
Beretta grabbed Goemon by the kimono, dragged him back down to sit next to her, latched onto his shoulders and started kissing him in a very thoughrough manner.
Beretta could feel him stiffen in surprise at first, so she softened her initial attack and just kind of languidly massaged his lips.
There was a kind of shiver that ran down him, and she started to move, giving him attention on his cheeks and neck, until she found a weak spot right by the base of his ear. When she hit there, he let out a stifled purr of pleasure. Beretta knew her way around, so soon she found him much more relaxed, though he still hadn't kissed her back yet.
But Beretta was an evil psycho who wanted to seduce a man who was best friends with her father, a man with the emotional maturity of an 10 year old. So you think a little thing like discouragement was going to stop her?
No!
She gave a final lick to Goemon's secret spot and went back to his mouth. This time she he couldn't hold back any longer, and Beretta found that once Goemon put his mind to it, the kissing was pretty intense. It seemed to go on and on, and Beretta could feel Goemon start losing some of his self control. But she didn't want it to go that far.
Yet.
She pulled away, having to physically push him the first few inches before he realized what was happening.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then blushed. He looked away. "I told you something would happen. I'm...sorry."
Really, the man was an idiot.
"Goemon."
He turned to look at her. She kissed him again and found him to be much easier to start up again. She pulled away just enough to speak. "You know I'm not Midori, I know you are Goemon. I've always loved you. I want this," She got closer. "Is. This. What. You. Want. To. Do?" Each word of the last sentence was interspersed with another kiss. Goemon nodded dumbly, too numb to resist any longer. Beretta leaned in closer to his ear, and whispered more things that Goemon hadn't dreamed of since Midori had died...and then some.
He nodded again.

Goemon didn't know what was happening. It had all started with those hands, which he noticed were very agile in more ways than one. He didn't know when it came about, but her hands were rubbing his back inside his top. He suddenly felt the urge to feel closer to her, but was afraid of shattering whatever had happened. And what had happened? A girl who was as old as his son was doing her best to bed him, and he was enjoying it. Was he running away again? Using Beretta as an excuse to ignore his pain? He reflected as best he could while keeping up with Beretta. She certainly demanded a lot of attention. Not that she didn't give it right back but still...No, he realized. If he was still hiding, he would have gone by now. He knew she was right about Midori. Midori would want him to be happy. And he found he was happy, at the moment, with Beretta.
Her hands had gone all the way down his top and had undone the back knot of his hakama. He didn't really think about it, He was trying to figure out if he could peel off her shirt in a dignified manner, when the brash little thing undid the front knot of the hakama as well!
Well, now he was sitting in a position of almost no pants and she was working on the top now.
"Beretta...please..." he softly intoned.
The reply was muffled due to her starting move down his body with her mouth. "If you're having second thoughts, I don't care because we're doing this thing."
"No...you still have all your clothes on. It's not fair," he said in something that was close to a whine.
Beretta shrugged. "Why don't you take 'em? I'm not the type who's going to just give you everything, you baby."
Goemon was shocked. Hurling insults? During a make-out session of all things? Midori certainly never told him about this.
Midori had also never taught him about...everything he need to know about woman clothes. Miodri was much gentler, too.
Though he found the roughness enjoyable.
He wildly grabbed her shirt and pulled up, in an action that was very undignified but also very effective.
Goemon was spared the mysterious workings of underwear because he discovered Beretta didn't wear a bra.
While he was gasping at this fact, Beretta stood up and took off her pants, since she didn't think he would know how to do that himself. The shirt was more luck than anything.
Goemon stood up when she did, his hakama falling to the floor in a heap. He noticed immediately and sat back down.
Beretta finished with her pants and pushed him to lie down flat on the bed.
"Can I call you Gooey?"
"What? No...Beretta, you're on the top..."
Beretta leaned in closer. "Is that right? Do we have to switch? Make me."

Goemon woke up early the next morning. He spent sometime trying to disentangle himself from the various things like the sheets, the blankets and Beretta. He didn't really want to get up. This was the most tired he had felt in a long time, yet he was also the most refreshed. Maybe his life wasn't so bad after all. He didn't know what to do with Beretta.
He thought he loved her, but he wasn't sure if he could marry her. How would the kids take it? How could even mention it to Jigen?
He decided that he would take a quick shower to clear his head and then make his way back home.
As the water rushed over him, washing away the previous night, he suddenly felt ashamed. Certainly, they were both more than consenting adults, but was this really right? Wasn't this some sort of pent up emotion on his part, and a school girl crush gone horribly wrong on hers? Maybe she was really just a nymphomaniac?
There was a quick blast of cold air as the bathroom door opened and Goemon found himself wishing stupidly that somehow she wouldn't notice the shower running.
The shower turned out to be very cramped and when she stepped in with him.
Great, she's gonna start going at it in the shower...I'm going to drown and everyone will laugh at me when they find me with her, and my name will forever be tarnished as a pedophile and--
To his surprise and relief, Beretta instead just stood behind him and started giving him a back rub. It was soft at first, but as she found more knots she worked them harder until he could feel a tingling sensation spread from his core out. Then he faced her and said, "Turn around." Surprised, she did as she was told and he returned the favor. She hadn't been expecting this, it was an impulse to rub his back. Even to step into the shower. She was afraid he might retreat again. But he seemed to finally start living again.
When he was done, she kissed him on the nose, and said "Wash your hair if you do mine?"
He nodded, and found the act of washing her almost more intimate than...what had happened last night.
That was a frenzy of tension nd energy and neither of them were thinking too clearly.
This was deliberate and slow. It was a more familiar pace for him. But it was something he still felt was wrong.

They had a quick breakfast, and he firmly stood up.
"Beretta...I need to thank you. Last night was...you taught me a lot last night. You opened my eyes to what has been staring at me since day one. I don't think I would have ever realized it. But, surely you see...Last night was a once in a life time thing. I was at the lowest I could be, and you took pity on me. I know you don't think of it in that way, but this is for the best. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I will never forget you. Thank you."
She had stared at him in silence, she didn't blink or move. She slowly got up and came close to him.
Goemon prepared himself for the tears, or the pleas, or even the casual send off.
She held up a set of keys in front of him.
"This to the the room. You're full of it and you know it. I'll be back at 7. Be here."
"Yes ma'am," Goemon happily replied.