UNEXPECTED
And so, there are no gaps in the story any more. Masa knows everything. Or maybe he doesn't – but he still knows enough for Ichi to feel as vulnerable as he hasn't allowed himself to feel for many years.
There is just one more mystery left – and no one makes Ichi reveal it. He isn't even sure Masa would be glad to have it broken onto him. It is Ichi who wants to do it. For him, it's a challenge, and an irresistible temptation, and possibly a punishment for the earlier weakness.
He looks through the window where the setting sun lights the roofs in pink and scarlet. Perhaps this light will smooth over, will make less noticeable, less disgusting the thing Masa will have to see. It's a weak thought but for a few moments Ichi cherishes it.
"So," he says, "there's only one thing you haven't found out yet."
He hears Masa gasp in surprise, as if he doesn't understand what Ichi means – and yes, Ichi quite believes he doesn't. Because Masa didn't try to find out *that*. It's him, Ichi, who wants to show it. It's him who needs it. This notion puts a wry smile on his lips but Masa doesn't see his face anyway.
"You want to know how truly ugly my scar is," he says. "Well, you can judge it for yourself."
And without turning round, Ichi lets his yukata slip from his shoulders.
Behind him Masa seems to stop breathing. So quiet, not a sound there. Ichi lowers his head.
"Horrible, isn't it?" his voice is calm, calm like swamp water.
He still doesn't hear anything, no intake of breath, no sound of shock – and nothing can astonish him more than Masa's warm fingers touching his shoulder. Warm – the tips hard with calluses – and the touch is so light and yet having an enormous weight, as if it is the only thing that can pin Ichi to reality. His breath is broken, his chest constricted, and he thinks that a moment more and something will crack inside him, scatter in pieces.
"No," Masa says. "It's not ugly at all."
His voice is so soft as if he's talking to a child, and Ichi feel anger flood him. Pity? Damn Masa for his pity, he doesn't want it...
But at the next moment Masa's mouth presses to his shoulder. Instead of warm hard fingers – warm soft lips.
It's a very short touch, and then Masa backs away, probably frightened with his own action – but for Ichi it is enough. A hint is enough for him, an instant of weakness. Now he will take everything.
He turns round abruptly; Masa's black eyes seem even bigger than usual and are very close. Ichi smiles and reaches, grabbing the topknot of Masa's hair – pulls Masa closer, covering Masa's mouth with his. Now he hears another gasp. Masa jerks a little, like a hooked fish, and his lips taste with sake, and then Ichi overcomes the slight resistance and pushes his tongue into Masa's mouth.
He kisses Masa and thinks... no, strange, for once he doesn't think anything at all, his mind is blank, no anxiety, no calculations, no planning. His palm slides over Masa's cheek, Ichi feels his face burning, and this feeling somehow holds for him more meaning than any agendas he made in his life.
Later, after an eternity, he pushes Masa away slightly. Because... because it is important, to let him go, to make sure that he hasn't just caught Masa unawares, hasn't just taken by force what he desired – that Masa understands what's going on and wants it.
But Ichi barely has time to think about it. A moment later Masa's hands clasp his cheeks – Masa strives forward, as if diving – and kisses Ichi's face, short, swift, scalding kisses that land messily – on his eyelids, nose, lips. Suddenly Ichi is on his back – Masa's arms wrapped around him soften the fall – and Masa is over him, kisses him, desperately, awkwardly, his face and neck and his chest.
There is too much Masa suddenly. Masa is everywhere, inside and outside. Every one of his kisses is like a burn, and Ichi feels his head is about to explode, blood is beating in his temples so hard. Panic floods him – it's so easy to lose control – or to give it away, give to Masa who kisses him so clumsily as if he hasn't ever done it before. His hot forehead butts against Ichi's chest, and Ichi is afraid it's the best thing he's ever felt in his life.
He feels like screaming, ordering Masa to stop – but he knows that if he does it, it will be over, forever over. And his hand clenches convulsively, yanks the topknot of Masa's hair. The cord unties, and the wave of black hair falls down covering both of their faces.
In this sudden darkness Ichi sees a bright flash of memory - the time he saw Masa in the yard of the Elder – puppy-eyed, with his hair loose, looking unbearably young, almost childish. Ichi thinks how later he sometimes played with this image, treasuring it, holding onto it - when he particularly needed something to hold onto.
And fear leaves him – only joy stays, sharp and intoxicating. Joy – because now he has more than just a memory. Now Masa is with him.
His fingers run over Masa's nape, feeling the vertebrae. Ichi's body melt under Masa's kisses, melt as if he were made of ice and now it's spring and he's thawing, but he isn't afraid, not even afraid to die, to be no more. He strives up, forward; they push against each other as if trying to fuse into one. Ichi spreads his legs for Masa to get even closer, and their lips and hands are equally greedy trying to claim as much territory as possible.
But after a while the energy in Masa's movements subsides. His resoluteness is replaced with uncertainty. He stops almost entirely, his hand lies on Ichi's thigh, slack and slightly moist.
Ichi catches his face, making Masa raise his head. It's twilight in the room but even the shadows cannot hide Masa's guilty expression. Ichi looks at him for a moment.
"Are you a virgin, Masa?"
Anyone else would be exasperated, would 'how dare you' in reply or just deny it fervently.
"Yes," Masa exhales, blinks ruefully.
Ichi nods. And then Masa is on his back, crying out in surprise – and Ichi is on top of him, covering his mouth with his palm.
He looks down at Masa, maybe for too long, he doesn't know, the time stops. Masa is before him, with his black round eyes, in the circle of spilled black hair, and his lips under Ichi's palm are burning hot. Ichi doesn't know what he wants more – to keep staring or to eat everything he sees, like a demon, take and swallow - to make Masa a part of him, never lose him.
Well, maybe 'never' is not possible. But for now he can do something else. Masa doesn't have to worry about his inexperience. Ichi will take care of everything.
The pose is not the most comfortable one but Ichi doesn't want to turn away, doesn't want to lose even a moment of the picture Masa makes – disheveled, with his burning face, with his shoulders bare. Ichi unties Masa's hakama, pulls it down, then reaches his hand freeing Masa's cock. Masa flinches hugely – and freezes shivering as Ichi directs him inside.
It's quite a task, Ichi's face distorts, and Masa tries to get up at once, starts regretfully:
"Yaichi-dono..."and Ichi touches his lips again, presses one finger to them making him keep silent. Then next moment Masa is inside, and his eyes open impossibly wide, and his hands become daring again, wrapping around Ichi, pulling him closer, clenching his shoulders.
Ichi wants him to hold even tighter – wants Masa's fingers to enter his body just as his cock enters it. For them to become one – at least for now, at least for a short while – for Masa's integrity to mend what is broken and soiled in Ichi.
Their lips clamp, their tongues intertwine, and Ichi feels Masa cry out as if in pain, and feels triumph, almost insane joy that washes off everything, everything he used to carry in himself for so long. He will be able to forget everything he remembered till now – because now he has this memory, and with it he can start living anew.
...Icy air seeps through the open window. But Masa next to him is so hot that Ichi doesn't feel any discomfort. Masa lies on his side, facing him, and fingers a strand of Ichi's loose hair. Ichi sees him with the corner of his eye. He feels so tired that he cannot even turn his head, his body is heavy and clumsy. But there is a wild, lazy smile on his face.
"Yaichi-dono," Masa whispers. "Are you hurt?"
"A little bit." It is true, and besides, he doesn't want Masa to have wrong ideas of how often Ichi gets it done to him. But Masa sighs so contritely that Ichi regrets his words.
Then Masa's hot fingers find his hand, pull up – and Ichi feels Masa kiss the inner side of his wrist.
No, don't, he wants to say, what are you doing to me... Perhaps it would be easier if Masa just felt asleep instantly... or showed clear regret about what happened. Perhaps it would be easier for Ichi to handle it than this... kindness. This kiss. This feeling of defenselessness.
When Masa sits up, Ichi feels almost relief. Now Masa will get up and leave. It will be right. Just fine. But Masa finds the crumpled coverlet and lies down again, pulling it over both of them.
...Ichi wakes up when the sky starts getting grey. It's very quiet. Masa puffs at his nape, even, hot breaths that Ichi finds strangely comforting.
He gets from under Masa's limp arm, puts on his yukata, tying it carelessly, and walks out in silence.
Most inhabitants of the house are still asleep but the mistress is in her place, as if she hadn't slept at all, and the pipe habitually steams in her hand. Her eyes turn to Ichi like two sharp blades. Fine, he is prepared. Telling the truth, he has no other reason to get up so early – apart from being the one who'll have to bear her wrath. Let her talk now, to spare Masa from listening to it.
"We have a decent establishment," she declares. "The noise like that scares away the customers."
Hmm, maybe Masa was really a bit noisy yesterday; Ichi can't help smiling. But he knows the noise has nothing to do with her displeasure. She just doesn't like something out of her control happening at her place.
"My apologies," he says seriously. It seems she expects something more but he adds nothing. And a little while later the blades are sheathed. She puts down her pipe in exasperation.
"Looks like nothing will ruin your mood today."
Ichi stands on the steps inhaling the cold air. In the grey sky the sun casts golden gleams on the clouds. He looks up and thinks he hasn't ever seen the sky like that.
He walks up, enters the room. Masa turns round quickly. He's dressed, and trying to tie his hair. The abrupt motion makes it fall over his shoulders again, and he jerkily starts gathering the strands once more.
"Yaichi-dono, I... I'm already leaving. Sorry for overstaying. I... I won't bother you anymore," he rushes.
Ichi sighs, standing carefully to block the entrance so that Masa couldn't slip past him.
"You don't bother me at all," he says. "I'm going to make us some tea."
THE END