Chapter 4
The following morning the sun rose bright and early, peering in through the thin, pale curtains, revealing three members of Mitsuhashi University, all in varying states of health.
The dean awoke even before his alarm rang. Whistling, he threw back the bed covers and swung himself off the bed. Standing up, he yawned and stretched his body, feeling his joints and muscles loosen after a good night's sleep. Grabbing clean underwear from the chest of drawers, he headed into the en suite bathroom to take a shower before breakfast.
Hiroki hadn't quite made it into his bed. He had collapsed near the end, at an odd, almost diagonal angle, and as the rising sun disturbed his sleep, his eyes twitched and scrunched up, and he rolled over in an effort to escape the harsh rays of light.
Unfortunately, being so close to the edge meant that he rolled right off the bed, waking up violently upon impact with the floor. Feeling his stomach roil, he just managed to crawl into the bathroom in time to vomit copious amounts of sake into the toilet.
Like the dean, Miyagi had also woken up early. He had found himself naked, caught up in a disagreeably sticky, tangled mess of bed sheets. Groaning, he had managed to disentangle himself and dragged himself into the bathroom to clean up.
He was now sitting in the breakfast hall, nibbling half-heartedly at a piece of plain toast, with a half-drunk glass of fresh orange juice and a cup of steaming coffee before him. He knew he must eat something, but couldn't bear the thought of either the Japanese or Western style breakfasts the rest of the academics were stuffing themselves on. He had avoided being sick, unlike Hiroki, but nonetheless, his stomach certainly felt delicate and the other scholars, noticing how pale he looked, had generously left him alone to give him space.
He had worked his way through half of the now cold toast when Hiroki appeared, looking far worse than Miyagi did. The assistant professor dropped down into a seat opposite the elder and turned an even deeper shade of green at Miyagi's offer of food.
They sat quietly for a little while, neither capable of much speech, as Miyagi slowly pushed his way through breakfast and Hiroki tried to will his stomach to settle down.
At last Miyagi had eaten all that he could take, and they joined a couple of academics from Australia who were heading directly over to the conference halls. As they made their way towards the front of the hotel, they heard a commotion coming from the direction of the reception.
"This is unacceptable, completely unacceptable! Look at me, I'm soaked through! Half my things are soaked, water is seeping into the bedroom carpet – I must have another room!"
"Sir, I'm afraid we have no rooms to spare – but of course we'll get the shower fixed for you and the room cleaned up as soon as possible!"
The professors from M. University stopped short when, rounding the corner, they saw who was making all the noise.
The Dean was arguing with the receptionist, still wearing his pyjamas which were sopping wet. His hair was sticking up in all directions where he had lain on his pillow, although the top was flat against his head where he had been doused with water from his shower. Around his feet was a small puddle – neither Miyagi nor Hiroki could tell whether this had formed from water dripping from his pyjamas or that had seeped out of the two travel bags sitting next to him which were still open, the clothes inside spilling out, and which each bore a waterline at least two inches high from the base.
Both literature professors hurried over to their boss as fast as they were able to given their current physical states.
"Sir, what's going on? Is there anything Kamijou and I can help with?" Miyagi enquired.
The Dean looked round in surprise.
"Heavens, this is embarrassing. I'm sorry, I'd not meant for you to have to see me in my nightwear! You see, I went for a shower this morning and it broke, I don't even know how it happened, but it was spraying water everywhere and simply wouldn't stop. I tried and a couple of other young fellows tried too, but the damned thing is stuck! It's flooding the room, I'm completely soaked, it's got all my things wet and the damned staff are useless!"
The Dean turned to glare at the receptionist as he said this last bit, his voice rising as he vented his anger. Miyagi and Hiroki winced in pain as the Dean's complaints hammered against their ears, each suffering from a severe, alcohol-induced migraine.
"I'll be amazed if you can get that shower fixed and the carpet, walls and furnishings dry and up to standard by the time I return later! I absolutely insist upon having a decent room, plus compensation for all this trouble! What am I meant to do with my belongings now, hmm? I'm soaking wet and standing around in the middle of this hotel with everyone staring at me as I'm still in my pyjamas, what are you going to do for me?"
The unfortunate young man behind the desk looked rather helpless, as he promised the soggy academic once more that they would get it all sorted and he would find somewhere for him to dry off and change. Of course, he would need to speak to the manager about compensation, but in the meantime if the honoured guest still required a shower, the swimming pool shower room was available…
"Swimming pool shower?" The Dean now looked irate. "I need a room, a proper place to wash and sleep, not some dingy, chlorine-smelling, communal shower, thank you very much!"
Up 'til now, Miyagi and Hiroki had been somewhat amused by the Dean's predicament, particularly as they had never seen him in pyjamas before, although both were careful to disguise their amusement from their boss.
Now, however, to spare the poor employee, Miyagi interjected,
"Sir, why don't you take your stuff up to my room for now and have a shower there – that way they can also get into your room straight away to get it sorted out. I'm heading off to the lecture hall now anyway, so you won't be disturbed."
His kind offer mollified the Dean somewhat.
"Thank you, Miyagi-kun, that's very nice of you. If you don't mind, I think I will take you up on your offer. Please do go ahead, both of you – I'll catch you up a bit later after I've got things sorted out here."
Miyagi handed over his room key to the Dean, then he and Hiroki walked back to the waiting Australians to make their way to the conference hall.
The Dean glared once more at the receptionist and marched self-righteously over to the lift. Dropping his bags on the floor, he jabbed at the buttons and sighed deeply as the doors closed and the lift began to move.
He managed to locate Miyagi's room without bumping into anyone else, thankfully, sparing him further embarrassment. Opening the door to the suite, he was met by a subtle musky scent mixed with beer. Smiling ruefully, he recalled that Miyagi and Kamijou had been out drinking last night and had both looked rather unwell this morning. Miyagi hadn't even opened his curtains, and his bedclothes were a jumbled mess.
Still, he was extremely grateful to the man for offering up his room for the time being. Pulling back the curtains to let some light into the room, he opened the window to refresh the air. Shivering slightly at the brush of wind against his damp skin, he hurriedly grabbed a towel and headed into the bathroom.
Ten minutes later he emerged from the bathroom accompanied by a gust of steam. He felt much better after cleaning up in a hot shower. Rummaging around in his bags, he threw piles of damp clothes aside in a search for dry underwear, sighing at the realisation that he would have to do some laundry in the hotel as the clothes couldn't stay damp until he returned home.
He finally located some clean, dry clothes and, dropping them onto the bed, slowly started to pull a fresh pair of boxers on.
It had been an incredibly humiliating and irritating episode; particularly as it had been right in front of his colleagues and employees. He would have to write a stroppy letter to the hotel manager when he returned home. At the moment he didn't feel like rejoining the conference and facing everyone just yet. What he needed was something to distract and entertain him.
Looking around, he spotted the remote control to the television on Miyagi's bedside table. He grabbed it and switched the television on, thinking to flick through the channels and hopefully find something entertaining to watch for half an hour or so before returning to the real world.
He started pulling on his trousers as the machine whirred to life. He was just perching on the edge of the bed, leaning over to tug on a pair of black cotton socks when the unmistakable sounds of sex reached his ears; his eyes opened wide with shock as he heard a bed squeaking and the rhythmic slap of flesh on flesh.
Miyagi had been watching porn! God, his embarrassment was now at an all time high – how was he supposed to look the man in the face after knowing he'd been watching this? And he'd have to rewind the tape to try and get it back to where Miyagi had left it – would he be able to tell?
His heart hammering in his chest, the Dean yanked the already half-on sock over his foot and sat up straight on the bed. He hardly dared to look at the television screen. And still the noises continued, loud moans and panting breath reaching out across the room, assaulting his ears uncontrollably.
And then the Dean heard something unexpected; something so shocking, his head whipped round and he sprang up from the bed, hands reaching out wildly, grasping for the wall, for anything that would offer him support.
He had heard his son's voice, Shinobu's voice – and it had called Miyagi's name.
Now that he had looked, his eyes were fixed on the screen as if glued and he couldn't tear them away even though the scene before him was horrific.
Miyagi had his son pinned down on a bed; both were naked and Miyagi was between Shinobu's legs. Miyagi was thrusting, pounding into Shinobu, and the noises they were making… The Dean wished he could block his ears forever – if only he could just stop hearing the sounds coming from the television right now.
It was… disgusting. Despicable. Unnatural. Illegal.
His legs felt weak, but he couldn't move. The horrible truth came crashing down around him: Miyagi and Shinobu, his ex-son-in-law and his underage son… How had this happened? Had he pushed them together by foisting Shinobu onto Miyagi whenever he had a problem?
Was Shinobu even lying there willingly? The usually cool and calm Miyagi was really going for it on the screen, he looked almost out of control, delirious with pleasure – could Shinobu have stopped him if he didn't want it?
And he had made a tape of it? How sick, how perverted was the man, that he would seduce his ex-wife's little brother and record them both together?
When had it taken place?
How long had he been looking the Dean straight in the eye, not blinking, no blushes, no guilt at all over what he had done to his boss' teenage son?
At last, the Dean's limbs unfroze and he walked shakily back to the bed and sank down onto the edge of the mattress. Fumbling with the remote control, he finally stopped the hellish video and sat for a long moment with his head in his hands.
He couldn't stay here. He knew that. There was no way he could face Miyagi right now, no way he could pretend everything was normal. There were only a few days left of the conference and they had already made their contribution; he could leave without lots of awkward questions being asked.
Then what? When he got home, what should he do?
He would make a plan on the way back, he decided. The thought of lingering here, in Miyagi's room where he could come back at any time, was unbearable. The first thing to do was to get out. It would take a few hours to get back to Tokyo and he could use that time to figure out what to do next.
Suddenly restless, he scrambled to finish getting dressed. No longer caring whether his clothes were wet or dry, he shoved everything haphazardly into his bags and got ready to leave.
Half way to the door he paused. He turned back and quickly ejected the tape from the television, wrapped it in a dry shirt and stuffed it into one of the bags. Then he hurried out of the room, closed the door behind him and made his way down to the reception.
The hotel manager was talking to the same receptionist who had been on duty earlier. The receptionist looked a little strained when he saw the Dean approach. He had obviously spoken to the manager about this particular guest as the man pasted a big, phony smile on his face as he said,
"Ah, Takatsuki-sama, I must apologise a hundred times for all the trouble you have experienced with your shower this morning! I can assure you, we will have it all sor-"
"Huh? Ah, thank you but that's not necessary!" The Dean interrupted.
He had completely forgotten about the broken shower and flooded room. Without further ado and barely letting the staff get a word in, he handed in Miyagi's room key and checked himself out of the hotel.
"Oh, and if anyone asks why I've left, I've got a little family matter to sort out – nothing serious, no need to worry, just something with my, er, daughter!"
He wanted to avoid giving Miyagi any warning that he knew of his affair with Shinobu – though, he reflected, he probably would realise soon enough once he noticed that his filthy tape was gone.
Shuddering at the images flashing through his mind at the thought of the tape, the Dean hurried out of the hotel and flagged down a passing taxi. An hour and a half later, he was sitting in a window seat on the first flight from Hokkaido to Tokyo.
UH-OH! :D