Chapter 2: Open Water

Sam´s long hair flapped in the pretty cold wind, tangling it despite the hair cream he´d applied before leaving his tiny apartment in New York. He was glad to wear glasses. The temperature was unusually fresh, and his eyes watered. He watched as the L.A. Peer shrank and eventually vanished entirely from sight: It felt weird leaving. Sam had never been outside the US before, and seeing the Ferris Wheel disappear on the horizon filled him with an unknown melancholy.

As Sam looked at the first of the many sunsets he would see on this ship's deck he wondered... why March? Why send him on a boat rather than a plane and save money? but when had money ever been a problem for his clients... As he looked around he saw guests and staff in equal amounts. People seemed more relaxed here, dressed rather casually, strolling around, chatting. The florals were everywhere. Then you also had the few foreigners with their strange dressing styles.

Sam watched two boys playing. One of the boys was teaching the other one how to throw catch. He remembered scenes like that ... following Dean into the park sneakily. Then when his friends showed up, Sam would come out of nowhere wanting to join them. He would make puppy eyes at his big brother and pucker his lips. And sure as Hell, Dean would call him in as well. He would make sure Sam got easier catches, throwing an epic stink eye to whoever threw Sam a hard ball. Dean had been like that. His big brother.

He turned his face away from the playing boys and looked towards the ocean. It was dark, deep, and frankly looked foreboding. The crowds on the deck were now thinning out. He decided to head back down to continue on his research.

Sam spent most of his days alone by himself in the reading room of the ship or on the deck trying to join the dots. One day he saw a boy, not more than 10 years of age, with a young sailor. The kid was a handful for the young man. He pushed the sailor into the pool and began to run. The boy came within 10feet of Sam, when he suddenly started panting heavily.

Sam realized that the child had difficulty breathing due to the cold air. He went close to the kid and knelt down in front of him. He bent him forward slightly and was stroking his back gently. When the boy was calm enough, Sam tried to see where the sailor was, but there was no one on the deck now. He picked up the child, went to the dining hall and asked for an espresso. He took a teaspoon of the coffee and made the child drink it.

"Devin! There you are.", said a man's voice behind Sam. He turned around to see it was the captain.

„What the hell are you doing with my son!"

"Dad! The man here saved my life" croaked the boy, trying to smile now.

"That true?" The captain eyed Sam warily.

„He had a fit of asthma", Sam explained. „The cold air, I guess."

Sam saw the suspicion leave the other man´s face.

„Jesus - well thank you very much, Sir. Devin shouldn´t even be out at night with the temperatures that low ... I'm very much obliged, Mr..."

"Smith. Vincent Smith. You should hire more careful people to look after your son", Sam said. The captain frowned, and nodded.

"Mr Smith - join me tonight for dinner!"

"Of course!" Sam touched his hat, smiled at the boy, and left.

Sam was dressed in his finest tuxedo. He had to look as if he belonged here on this ship. Taking a look around the dining room, he was greeted with many admiring glances and jealous glares. Seeing the captain waving at him, he joined the table where the captain and his rather young wife were dining along with Mr&Mrs Wessex, a rich couple from Philadelphia. Sam seated himself right next to the captain. He realized Mr Wessex wasn't happy having Sam with them, while both Mrs Wessex and Gloria (the captain's wife) seemed very glad he had joined their table. Sam smiled slyly when he felt two feet going up his pants. From their conversation Sam learned that Wessex was a banker,

headed to Tokyo on business. Sam wasn´t exactly the talking type - he always listened and encouraged people to talk.

"I've heard it´s going to be lovely there right now" remarked Mrs Wessex.

"Of course! Mr Smith, you must go to the gardens for the festival of Sakura", remarked Gloria. „The cherry bloosoms are amazing!"

"I will."

Oh - so maybe that was the reason why his client wanted the hit then... well, he´d soon know.

Their conversation was suddenly stopped when the lights were dimmed, and finally went out. The room went silent, anticipation filling the air. Then a single spotlight revealed a figure cooped up on the stage. She slowly raised herself as though a butterfly opens up with her long red and gold sleeves that seemed like wings on fire.

"She's performing the call of spring. Her name is Muraki", the captain quietly informed Sam. It was a slow, but the most riveting performance Sam had ever witnessed. The graceful movements of her hands depicting the winds, and the way her body moved felt like she did not belong in this world. She seemed to be part of a more ethereal universe. When the performance ended, everyone stood up and applauded. Sam wanted her, he wanted her to remove those trinkets from her hair and let them loose, imagined her coming undone... He just stood there and watched her as she exited the stage - and threw a black satin sash in Sam's direction.

After dinner, Sam was walking back to his room, when someone pulled him inside one of the cabins. Sam slammed the owner of the hand against the closed door.

"Ah... Mr Smith, you're even stronger than I imagined."

It was Mrs Wessex. Sam gave her a sly smile and crashed their lips together.

"mmm, I'm glad we are on the same page", purred Mrs Wessex in her

velvety, throaty voice.

"I hope you won´t mind company" said a petite voice behind them – it

was Gloria. A blonde and a brunette? Well - this wasn't Sam´s first or last threesome.

"Of course not", he said.

„But you´ll have to make it worth my while, ladies..."

Sam felt Gloria´s hands crawl under his tuxedo jacket. She tugged out his shirt, impatiently so.

„Don´t worry about that", she purred, pressing herself against his broad back. Mrs. Wessex began to open the buttons of his shirt one by one. When the last one finally was undone, she pulled the tuxedo´s jacket off Sam´s impressive shoulders, assisted by Gloria, who unceremoniously threw the fine piece to the side. Sam pressed his groin against Mrs. Wessex´ hips, making her moan with pleasure while the women wrestled him out of the stark white shirt; it went the jacket´s way and landed somewhere on the floor. Sam felt Gloria´s hands again – only deeper down this time, sliding under his waistband, gently pulling out the white t-shirt. The shirt was hastily wrestled over his head, and both women gasped at the sight of Sam´s gorgeous torso: muscles so firm they seemed sculptured out of marble; and then there were the tattoos, of course. Mrs. Wessex let her hands glide up Sam´s arms, tracing the beautifully colored tattoo of a peacock´s feather on the way; Gloria´s hands were on his hips, finding their way to his belt buckle though; having it opened, her skilled fingers gently caressed the hard ripple of his abs, going up to the impressive chest, only ghosting his nipples; that was where the ladie´s hands met, starting a seductive dance on Sam´s skin, stroking, gliding, teasing; Sam began to really enjoy this. Those two respectable wives...they sure as hell were no amateurs...he smiled slyly. Mrs. Wessex still had her fingers read the signs on his skin, fingernails tracing the black symbol on the left side of his chest, face curious.

„It´s a symbol fighting off demonic possession", Sam murmured into her ear, voice a barely audible growl. He felt her shiver and pressed his groin against her once more, harder this time, enjoying the gasp and subdued moan it provoked; the next moment, he himself sucked in the air sharply, when two skilled hands found their way inside his trousers, and came to lie on his half-hardened cock. He heard the soft chuckle in his back, and the strangely childlike voice murmuring,

"...not very effective, your symbol, though... ´Cause I see a demon right in front of me...and I wouldn´t have him leave..."

Soft lips began ghosting his back, leaving a wet trace that made Sam shiver. He moaned deeply when Gloria´s fingers danced up and down his cock, with his pants still preventing them from touching his skin. Mrs. Wessex had pulled his head down, hands grabbing his long hair; she kissed him, ferociously, and then her tongue plunged into his mouth, claiming him, twirling with his own in a fierce choreography. Gloria had reached his waist with her lips; she glided down on her knees behind him, and with one swift move pulled down his pants and underpants. When her hands touched the delicate skin of his cock, Sam moaned deeply; it was so much more pleasurable without the barrier of the cloth between them.

„Ladies...time to get rid of those pretty dresses of yours´..." he murmured, voice deep and throaty, full of lust. Mrs. Wessex let out a husky laugh, her eyes wandering down to Sam´s impressive cock, now getting hard under Gloria´s skillful strokes.

„Fair enough...", she purred. „We wouldn´t want to leave this price fighter alone with all the fun, wouldn´t we? Would you mind to be of service, Mr. Smith?"

She pushed Sam back a little, turned around, and Sam nestled open the tiny buttons on her silk dress. With a rustling noise, it fell to the floor, revealing the delicate lace of her underwear on her voluptious body; it took Sam only a moment to get rid of the bra and freeing her full yet firm breasts from their cage. He cupped them with his huge hands, squeezing them gently, and making her moan with pleasure again; he was barely aware of a movement behind him, where Gloria got to her feet again, and slipped out of her dark red dress, and underwear; he was kissing the pale neck in front of him, when suddenly something was slung around his neck, and Gloria pulled his head back. She was on her toes, hand finding his member again, gripping it hard this time; she twisted the silk stocking she had used to capture him tighter, making him bend his head way back.

„Time to go to bed, naughty boy", she purred, voice rough with lust and need. „It´s time for your Lullaby..."

To bed they went. But sleep was not what they sought...not for the next hours to come. And the Lullaby sure would have made any other passenger on the ship blush...or join them.

After three well spent hours Sam tucked in both the ladies. Sam always knew never to overstay his welcome. He felt for something in his pocket, and pulled out the black sash, moving it between his fingers.

Over the next few days, Sam spent a lot of time with the captain, enjoying dinners and long cigar room chats. He liked the captain for the fact that he knew practically everyone on the ship, and that he loved to talk. Considering the fact that Sam didn't talk much himself, in fact it was a relief since the captain would embark on a monologue anytime and Sam would just have to nod. He even took part in the betting pool where compulsive gamblers and other respected members of the gentry took part in guessing when the ship would reach Osaka.

One such cigar room afternoon the captain said, "So... Vincent - is there a Mrs Smith?"

"Oh no sir, I've steered clear of that iceberg". They both laughed at this. At this point Sam caught the glimpse of the Japanese enchantment, Muraki. She was wearing a white silk kimono with a red sash in the middle, holding a white umbrella made from bamboo, with her hair tied with some flowers. He noticed that she kept looking down, and then all of a sudden she looked at Sam, lowering her eyes again immediately.

"Oh - so you prefer exotic fruits".

Sam had completely forgotten that the captain was there. "Oh..."

"That's okay, my boy. We all crave for her attention - but it seems you have caught her interest as well"

"Really", Sam asked nervously.

"Oh, come on now, she did look at you. How about I invite her for dinner? She's a personal friend of mine. That performance you saw was just done as a favor."

"You must be a very good friend of hers then."

"Oh my dear boy, I saved her life as a child during the great war". Sam really liked the captain now. Finally he would get to meet this enchantress.

The dinner took place in the main hall, unlike in the captain's cabin like before on occasion. They had the best seat in the hall, not too close and not to far from the stage. The party consisted of the captain, his wife Gloria, their son Devin, Mr & Mrs Wessex and Sam. They were waiting for her. Finally they saw her coming upstairs, wearing a black kimono with a red and white sash. Her hair was tied into the most intricate design, complete with two red sticks holding the hairdo, and white flowers. She took small steps, came close and bowed gracefully at everyone, finally taking her seat next to Sam. "I'm so sorry for being late" she said looking around the table in her soft yet silky voice. "Oh please dear, that's alright" said the captain. "It's time well spent" Mr Wessex remarked raising his glass.

It turned out that Murakami was an excellent conversationalist as was the requisite of her job. She managed to have a conversation with everyone on that table, contributing to topics ranging from the great war and politics with the captain to banking and Japanese economy with Mr Wessex, at the same time brilliantly handling the two ladies by making them feel included with topics of latest fashion in Paris.

She had figured everyone at the table except the tallest and rather handsome gentleman. He preferred to get lost in the clamor of other people. He reminded her of the ocean, deep, calm and lethal. He also reminded her of Shinichi, her lover... He was the reason she'd found herself in the eye of the storm. Her okasan had warned her about Shinichi, but she could not resist his charms. One of the reasons she liked Shinichi - and now Mr Smith - was the fact that she could not figure them out. The fact that her charms did not seduce them made her think they could see who she really was. She wasn't perfect as her patrons would want to believe.

Sam looked at her, and that feeling took over again. He knew there was more to her than excellent conversation, graceful etiquette and a beautiful face. Right - she looked like a doll to him, sitting there perfectly and being animated. She looked at him and their eyes met. In that instant, Sam saw the glimpse of the real woman behind the mask. He wanted her now, he wanted to take her into his arms and ravage her, smear the mascara and wipe her lipstick off. He wanted to break her out of the constriction of her kimono. Sam got up to leave "I've to make an urgent telegram to my contact in Osaka, before I forget. I shall join you soon". With this Sam left the jolly company and went towards the deck. It was nice and quiet on the front deck. There was a cool breeze flowing, it seemed to be the exact opposite of how he felt inside.

There was a storm surging inside of him, so many mixed feelings rising up. He looked out - there was nothing but dark blue foreboding water and the brightly lit sky with thousands of stars. The ocean and sky made him feel so small. The sky above him and the sea below seemed to have no end in sight. He looked up to the sky and deeply breathed in the fresh sea air.

"It makes you feel so small. All our problems seem petite in front of all this."

Sam turned to see that it was Murakami. "I didn't hear you come"

"I tread a little softly when I sneak up on someone"

"So you did intend to sneak up on me?"

"Well I must confess that you intrigue me, Mr. Smith."

"I'm glad that at least I incite some feeling in you."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, I saw that although you soon became the heart of the party by being a perfect hostess, your heart was somewhere else"

"Excuse me! "

"You seemed to be doing your job there, which you've been trained to do. Hoping that someone would understand the words that you weren't saying."

Sam was close to her now, looking down into her black eyes. She immediately lowered them. Sam extended his hand towards her face. All of sudden she opened her white and red fan. "A geisha cannot afford this luxury, Mr. Smith. She's the model of perfection that every man dreams of. I can be whatever you want me to be." She came close to him, raised her eyes to meet his eyes and turned to go.

"I don't want you to be anyone for me. I don't want you to be perfect."

She turned around and gave him one long stare.

"Good Night, Mr. Smith" - and she went inside. Sam couldn't believe that he had said all that to her. Why did he do that? He wasn't one of those people who said things out aloud like that. It was her, she made him feel things that he had never felt before or feelings he had chosen to ignore. He had always acted on such feelings. He remembered Agnes, his first girl. He was 18 then, and worked at the bar where he would go with Bobby. He watched her across the counter, smiling at him. She was a teacher all prim and proper, waiting for her date to come back from the mens´ room. He smiled back, and a few minutes later they were clawing at each other in the back of Bobby's truck. That was the first time he realized that he loved to watch women coming undone in front of him. She was wearing a tight skirt and a shirt. After Sam was done with her, the skirt was torn and there were no buttons on the shirt. She had a little scar on her now pink lips. What worried Sam was the fact that while being with such women he felt too vulnerable and exposed. He was letting the passionate Sam take over. He knew that if he kept bringing that Sam out, he would never see the next day and he feared that Sam would open the floodgates which he had locked shut with John's death. Hence he had buried that part of his self under piles of anger and focused his energies on finding Yakuza. The entry of Murakami had threatened to bring that part out again.

Sam was punching hard, trying to get the thoughts of Murakami out of his head. He was sweating profusely and finally stopped for catching a breath, and held the sandbag as well from swinging violently. He entered his cabin and went for a bath. The water from the shower hit his sweaty body. As he closed his eyes, he saw Murakami's face, those beautiful slanting eyes, her lovely cheekbones and then her inviting, pink lips.

He opened his eyes, got out of the shower. He knew he needed a distraction. He went to see the captain, instead he found Gloria. "Mr. Smith, good morning. Well, it's definitely a pleasant surprise to see you. You must join me for breakfast."

"Well, I cannot say no to that, can I" Sam said taking a seat at the lovely sea facing table in the captain's cabin, as the couple of maids scuttled away placing the breakfast and tea. As soon as they were out of the door, Gloria got up and sat on Sam's lap. She kissed him hard and Sam was more than happy to oblige. This was exactly the distraction Sam needed. Another woman, a sexual encounter he knew that meant nothing at all. The kind he was most comfortable with. This was where he could enjoy himself, staying behind his well built wall, controlling and never letting go.

Sam left the captain's cabin feeling satisfied with himself that he had banished any thought of her. He went to the ship's library and checked out a few maps of Japan. By the time he left, it was almost dinner time.

He finished his dinner with the captain where he was informed that they would be reaching the Osaka haven very soon. Then he walked back to his cabin watching the starlit sky. He was going to miss this. He came inside his cabin, did not put on the lights as there was the moonlight shining through his cabin window. Just when he saw rain clouds gathering by, he remembered that the captain had mentioned they might see some rain.

Then all of sudden he heard some rustling and he turned around to check if someone was standing outside his cabin. Just then he saw that person was trying to get in. Sam went closer to the door and then held the knob highland, opening the door with full force. With that, Murakami was thrown inside his cabin on his bed.

"You!What are you doing here?"

She got up and looked at him."I was here to say goodbye to you and give you this letter"

"What letter is that? ", Sam said reaching for it. Suddenly Murakami withdrew her hand and hid the letter behind her back. "It doesn't matter. It's stupid anyways" she said, moving towards the door. At that moment Sam lunged forward and closed the door.

"Excuse me, Mr. Smith, but I need to go back to my room" she said frowning. Sam moved closer to her.

"What's in that letter?"

"Nothing, it's stupid, I told you" she said, not meeting his eyes. Sam put his hand under her chin and raised her face so that their eyes could meet. "Please Murakami, I need to know", Sam said softly. Her lips quivered at this and she closed her eyes and said,

"It's about me. You said last night that you did not want me to be perfect but just be myself. This is me ", she said. Sam clenched his jaw and held her frail form in his strong arms.

"Thank you" Sam said, hating himself. She looked up at him. God, he had never seen anyone so beautiful. She inched forward and Sam closed the gap. It was an innocent kiss, with both of them only touching each other´s lips.

Murakami pushed Sam away.

"No, I'm a geisha. I'm not allowed this." As she was moving away from him, Sam pulled her close in one swift jerk. This time, there was nothing chast about the kiss. Sam's tongue invaded her mouth and she moaned. Her lips were warm. Sam had no control over himself now. He moved his hands towards her well tied hair. As he touched it, she pulled away.

"Vincent, no, please", but Sam had no such intentions. He pulled away one of the sticks in her hair and waves of them were let loose. They were long and dark, silky. Sam looked at her face, held it in his hands and kissed her again. She moaned even louder now. Sam wasn't done yet, his hands ran down towards her waist and she winced in his arms.

"Oh Vincent..."

Sam found the knot of the sash of her kimono. He gave it one pull and the sash was undone. She rigged her nails into his shoulders. Sam pulled the sash away. His dream was coming true... She was coming undone. She pushed Sam on the bed and sat right on top of him. She was now opening his shirt and all Sam wanted to do was to touch the exposed part of her torso and pull away the rest of her kimono.

She pulled down his pants. They were practically sitting in each other's lap. Now she had completely come undone to him. Both looked at each other with an insatiable hunger in their eyes, as if both knew that the other person held the missing part of their soul. They touched each other and revelled in each others´ nakedness. Sam had scratches on both his arms and she had a bruise on her lip, and one of the red ribbons was still loose in her hair. This time when they kissed, it was nice and long. There was no hurry, in fact, both were exploring each other's body with their tongues. Finally Sam put her on the bed and kissed her while she wrapped her legs around him. Murakami then embraced Sam with her hands that were tied with the same sash that she threw to him when they first met. Sam licked her and all she managed to say was "aaaahhhh..."

Sam woke up when the sunlight filtering through his window fell on his face. Murakami was sitting on the bed, her back to him.

"I'm not good for you. I'll bring misfortune on you. But then you already knew that, isn't it?"

At this Sam woke up from his lazy post coital stupor.

"Excuse me?"

"You're here to kill me, isn't it?"

Sam was trying to search for his knife that he kept under his pillow. "That's good. I won't stop you...Sam. But you lied to me. I'm not judging you. I'm sure you jaded your reasons. I want to help you with your brother", she said walking towards the table near the window. Sam crossed that distance with one stride and turned her around, putting the knife to her throat.

"Who are you?

"You're hurting me."

Murakami was held up against the wall by Sam, the knife still pressed to her pretty frail neck.

"How do you know about my brother? How do you know who I am?", Sam said clenching his jaw.

"I'm your target...M. Kobayashi."

Sam´s eyes widened.

„What?"

„It's the Yakuza. They want me dead. I know you're searching for them. I read your log. Please, trust me"

Sam couldn't believe what he had just heard. He loosened his grip on her, but kept the dagger in place. He wasn't sure how to react to this information.

"They killed my Shinichi in San Francisco. He helped me escape from there, but it's too late I guess." Sam brought down the dagger.

"Shinichi was my danna, my lover. I met him in Tokyo. At that time, I just knew him as a businessman. He came over regularly. We fell for each other. He was just like you... quiet, deep and dangerous. He became my danna and flew me to America with him. That night his secret identity was revealed to me. He worked for Yakuza. He took me to America with him and I thought we had left his old life back home. But Yakuza already has long tentacles. They found us there. Shinichi asked for help, made sure I could leave the country safely."

She searched Sam´s eyes, looking for a sign of his understanding.

„I have something that will help you gain entry into the world of Yakuza. It's Shinichi's diary... it has all the relevant names of Yakuza and their many businesses. Come with me now."

As she got up to leave from Sam's bed, he pulled her close and kissed her. She smiled at him. In that tender moment Sam decided that he wasn't going to go through with this job. He would protect her.

She gave him the diary.

"I hope this helps you. Now I have a favor to ask of you."

"Anything", Sam said holding her close.

"Please go ahead with your plan to kill me."

"No! Never!"

"You don't understand, Sam. They need to make an example out of us and they won't stop . There's never an easy way to leave Yakuza. They will find me, no matter where I go."

"I'll protect you. Trust me!"

"You don't understand. This will help you too, Sam... I'm tired of running from them. You at least need to help me find peace. I'm begging you."

"How can you ask me to do this?"

Sam felt helpless. She was right - with her dead, the Yakuza would think that the chapter would be closed. He was so close to finding the Yakuza, a mission that had haunted his whole existence since they killed his mother and took his elder brother.

He had to make a choice. Who would he choose - the woman he loved or his family?

There was no question of choice here.

He already knew what – who - he would choose