Splintered Mirror
Chapter 3
Atobe Keigo stood at the base line on the indoor tennis court. He hit an easy underhand serve. Across the net, Shiroi awkwardly held a tennis raquet in his right hand, swung it wildly and missed the ball. Atobe stopped himself from heaving a sigh.
"That's pathetic, Shiroi. Play properly. It's impossible to miss the ball."
"Sorry, Keigo-sama."
"Use your left-hand!"
Shiroi switched hand, wincing slightly. This time, Atobe hit the ball directly at Shiroi's sweet spot. No way Shiroi could miss it. "Sorry, Keigo-sama." The racket slipped to the ground and the ball bounced merrily away.
"Hold it properly, Shiroi! You didn't even touch the ball."
"Sorry, Keigo-sama. It's too heavy."
"It's a tennis racket. How heavy can it be? Hold it up. Higher. Higher!"
Again, Shiroi dropped the racquet. Atobe had not even served the ball yet.
"Kami-sama," he thought. "He can't be Tezuka. This is the proof. Tezuka wouldn't play like some idiot who had never seen a racket in his life before. Even when his left arm is broken, he could still play an easy game with his right. Shiroi is not Tezuka, no matter how uncanny the resemblance. The rest was just coincidence. Besides, Shiroi's upper left body was injured in some way and not from any kind of tennis. Some kind of nerve damage, from the way he holds the racquet."
That made him happier, despite Shiroi's pathetic performance.
"That's right. I did not bed Tezuka Kunimitsu! Thank kami-sama."
He was rather pleased with himself for coming up with this simple test. As for Tezuka, no one could simply live without some kind of trail, even if it was simply a credit card purchase or a ticket booking or immigration checkpoint. At the very least, London office should have registered Tezuka's flight to Germany a week after Atobe's own flight left Tokyo. For someone like Tezuka, even if he kept his money under his pillow and paid everything by cash, he should have shown up in some kind of tennis-related event.
On the other hand, surely Tezuka would not have lied to him about going back to Germany to prepare his entry into pro-circuit. So far, the investigation he ordered was not too different from the standard background checks he routinely requested for potential business opportunities or to confirm the claims of someone wishing to do business with him. He had encountered enough con-artists and gold-diggers to be suspicious of them. Whomever compiled or read the report would have assumed he was checking for fraud identity or false claims. If he asked for the same search extended worldwide and it came back negative ... it would raise questions instead of being buried and forgotten in the vast bureaucracy of a multi-national corporation. If it came back positive ... he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. A part of him still wanted to hold on to the belief that Tezuka did not lie to him about leaving Japan.
Although Tezuka's strange disappearance remained at the back of his mind, he firmly set it aside, reminding himself that Tezuka's affairs were none of his business. Now, he simply had to figure out what to do with Shiroi.
Two days later, Michael and Asakura both looked happier when Atobe announced that Shiroi was moving out. What all of them did not know was that Atobe had secretly rented an apartment for Shiroi. He was well aware of how certain associates of his father that kept mistresses play the game. He never thought he would be playing a similar game with Shiroi. Secret accounts, shell organisation to handle expenses and legalities ... It was useful to know about things he should not be aware of.
Unfortunately, after some rather frustrating interactions with Shiroi, Atobe had little choice. He had come to the conclusion that Shiroi was like an animal born in captivity. He was completely incapable of functioning on his own in the outside world. All his knowledge and memories were limited to the boundaries set by his previous master. He had no knowledge of legal documents, money or public transport. Never even shopped for anything in his life. Freeing him to fend for himself like this would be cruel. Like Michael said, he was uneducated. Or rather, he was very educated, just not in normal everyday meaning of the word.
As he signed off the last of the paperwork, Atobe mused over his own strange behaviour. He liked Shiroi, in his undemanding humble ways. It was like adopting a charity pet. "I wonder if all that qualifies me as 'keeping a mistress'. Except I'm not married, or having some illicit affair. And my 'mistress' is the wrong gender." He chuckled, imagining the horrified expression of those old coots for having a mistress like Shiroi.
It was a small one-bedroom apartment in a modest part of town. Smaller than Atobe's own 3-room office suite in Shinjuku. Shiroi looked at it like the most wonderful gift in the whole world.
"Keigo-sama, this is all for Shiroi?" Shiroi asked excitedly. He flitted room to room excitedly, touching a table or opening a drawer.
Once he had left Atobe Mansion and Atobe had dropped his perfect heir and businessman façade, Shiroi's personality had taken a complete turn. He was immediately reassured that his Keigo-sama was a kind and forgiving person. And Keigo-sama liked him very much. Keigo-sama was not going to throw him away and leave him all by himself, even though he can't do all the things Keigo-sama asked him to do. In fact, Keigo-sama was now his protector and guardian and teacher. Shiroi had so many things to learn, Keigo-sama made Ayako-san his assistant teacher to teach Shiroi all kinds of things. It was Ayako-san that gave Shiroi a small notebook to write his lessons so he won't forget them. Like how to ride the trains and buses. Buy things for himself. Withdraw money from a machine.
Atobe smiled indulgently. "This is all yours, Shiroi. You can come and go as you please. It's your home now."
"Home ...," said Shiroi softly, testing the word. "Shiroi's home."
"Aa. It's yours to do whatever you like."
"Anything Shiroi likes? Thank you, Keigo-sama!" Shiroi smiled with bright shinning eyes and coyly kissed him.
"Anything," Atobe answered as Shiroi unbuttoned his shirt. Atobe closed his eyes. "Tezuka is Tezuka. Shiroi is Shiroi. And never the twain shall meet!" he told himself firmly. He had not had sex with Shiroi since that night in the hotel. Not that Shiroi was unwilling. He couldn't as long as the Tezuka question loomed over his head.
Besides, he was always under the scrutiny of servants who were not completely loyal to him. Other than his chauffeur, Asakura, Michael, and a few key personnel, the majority of the staff that maintained Atobe Mansion was hired through his uncle's recruitment company. Something he was slowly changing, one name at a time. His relatives could squabble over the rest of the world. His intended to stake his claim in Asia Pacific and make it his seat of power. His shrewd analysis and insight predicted several economic shifts in the region that would put him in greater advantage in the near future. When that happens, the rest of the world would fall into his hand.
Warm hands sliding underneath his shirt distracted his ambitious thoughts. He smiled as Shiroi tilted his head suggestively. It was a discrete old neighbourhood with no central heating. Instead, it had thick walls and reinforced sound-proofed insulation material against cold winters. He checked the blueprint himself.
"It's time we baptise every piece of furniture ..." he said.
Respond to Reviewers:
Thank you everyone! I'm glad you guys liked it! I will do my best to deliver a good story.
Aoe chan: Well, Shiroi is Tezuka. Sort of... let's find out together with Atobe.
geecee: Thank you. That is high praise indeed. I agree it's so easy to write Atobe in crack-comedy and take advantage of his excessive wealth and ego. Have to remind myself not to overdo it. I want a believable multi-dimensional Atobe. As to whether Atobe/Tezuka will end up a couple - No. I did start out thinking they would, but while writing it, Atobe decided no. I have to bow to Ore-sama's wishes. I want to aim for a story where there's yaoi-element without being yaoi. If that makes any sense ... :P
Amy-sama90: ... or something. Yes. Something like that, but it is not amnesia. I actually checked DSM IV and psychological journals to prepare for the background story. I need a life. ToT
Aan: Wah! Are you psychic? You pretty much guessed what I was building up in the last chapter. Hope this one addressed some of those questions. Don't worry about commenting too much. I love long comments. And to think deeply about a writer's work, I am very honoured you chose mine. I really appreciate the critique.