Chapter 10
"That window has to be finished before my wife arrives," Tohma demanded over his cell phone.
Tatsuha listened dully to this harangue, watching the doctor apply the stitches. He'd been given painkillers, though it still hurt as they probed and removed bits of glass. He didn't want to think about anything at all, right now.
"We're going to wrap your hand up to keep you from moving it too much at first," the doctor was saying cheerfully.
Tatsuha nodded.
"Don't look so depressed, kid. You'll be fine."
A few winds of the bandages and Tatsuha was done. Seguchi nodded firmly at the doctor and said a few words the teenager didn't catch. Then Tohma drove him home.
Tatsuha gazed out the car window silently, expecting a lecture. But it seemed that Tohma felt he'd had enough for today. When they arrived home, they found Kumiko had returned. She was eyeing them.
"Is everything okay?" Tohma asked her.
"The workmen just left, and so did the cleaning crew."
"Good. Actually, I should have asked them to stay a little longer."
There was a decorative table at the bottom of the stair landing. Tohma picked up an antique rose-colored wine glass from it and smashed it against the table. Both Kumiko and Tatsuha jumped.
"What are you doing?" the teenager blurted.
"Manufacturing your excuse. You were running down the stairs, lost your balance and started to fall. You knocked over this wine glass when you did and cut yourself. I'll take the shards to the trash myself, Kumiko. Don't look so shocked."
"Y–yes, Seguchi-san."
"And you." Tohma took his brother-in-law by the shoulders. "No more trouble, all right?"
Tatsuha nodded, recognizing the threat in those words and went off to the guest bedroom. There, he noticed that not only had the glass been replaced, but all the shards had been cleaned up, too. Not a speck of blood was left anywhere. Even the pillowcase had been replaced.
He gazed at the window, the image of Ryuichi still etched in his mind. He would never forget it. Had Ryuichi Sakuma really been lying on his bed, holding him? Had it all actually happened? Where was the singer now?
He wanted to talk to Ryuichi, to beg for another meeting. I can't believe he'd tell me through Tohma that we can't see each other again. He wasn't that much of a creep. At least he'd tell me so himself. I think. He said he wanted to be my friend, if sex didn't get in the way. God, I don't even know his phone number.
The teenager went to the kitchen. "Kumiko? Has anyone left a message on the answering machine for me?"
For a second, the cook looked at the boy. "I'm afraid not, Tatsuha-kun."
"Thank you," he said, and went back to his room. There he sat for a while, until his sister returned. She came into the bedroom to examine his bandages and hear his story, and he lied rather well, he thought.
Dammit, what if Tohma was right? What if he never calls?
He ate dinner.
"You look like you're dying. The glass wasn't that expensive, clumsy."
"I'm just ticked off about it," Tatsuha replied.
"Well, don't have terminal depression," Mika said.
After dinner he went to his room. For weekend homework, he claimed. His cell phone was on. But he doesn't know the number. He'll have to call the house. I should go out and hang around in case he calls, but I can't face my sister or Tohma.
He worked math problems left-handed. It took all his willpower to make himself concentrate on the equations. But at eleven o'clock they were done.
Sunday night.
His door opened.
"Tatsuha?"
It was Seguchi. "I'm driving you to Kyoto in the morning. But as far as your sister is concerned, I'm just leaving for work and dropping you off at the train station on the way."
Tatsuha nodded. Three hours with Tohma in a car? He'd rather slit his throat. And what would Seguchi say to his father?
The door shut. Tatsuha sat on his bed and picked up his Walkman. The CD was gone, he remembered. Just like Ryuichi.
At midnight he heard the Seguchis head for their bedroom and saw the lights going out under his door. He lay back with the cell phone on the bedside table next to him and tried to think of nothing. He didn't bother to change his clothes, or get under the covers.
At one o'clock the cell phone startled him from his doze. He dropped it at first, grabbing for it with his bandaged hand.
"Tatsuha?" a strange voice asked.
"Yes," he answered, confused. Who was this?
"It's Ryuichi. I need to talk to you."
Tatsuha's reply was an embarrassing gurgle.
"What was that?" Sakuma asked.
"Just me being incoherent. It's sort of late and my brain's fried. You need to see me?" His heart was pounding. Was this the polite goodbye? "I suppose you and Tohma talked about me," Tatsuha managed to say.
"What?"
Tatsuha couldn't speak for a moment. "I--didn't you tell Tohma about us this afternoon? He knew."
A long pause at the other end. "I didn't tell anyone, except K. Tohma must have found out from him."
"You haven't spoken to Tohma at all?!" Tatsuha exclaimed.
"No."
That motherfucker, Tatsuha raged silently.
"Tatsuha, I . . . I need to see you," the singer repeated, stammering.
In an apartment a few blocks away, a man was sitting naked on a bed, half-covered with a sheet. Kumagoro was on his knees, and the man's face was pressed hard against the rabbit to stifle a groan. Ryuichi peeked down at his waist, then drew his knees closer. Oh, God. You shouldn't see this, Kumagoro.
"My address is--"
Tatsuha flew off the bed, scrambling for a pen and paper. He had never taken a note so fast in his life.
"And bring whatever you'll need for the morning," Ryuichi concluded in a rush.
Wha--?
"Goodbye." The voice was gone.
Tatsuha stared at his cell phone. Then he did a backflip right over his bed, remembering just in time not to scream like an idiot.
A few seconds later he'd filled his backpack, thrown open the window, and jumped out. To follow after Ryuichi.
Uesugis sleep like stones.
"What a stupid thing to do," Ryuichi said aloud, staring up at the shadowy ceiling. He turned over to watch Tatsuha sleeping. It was three o'clock in the morning.
"How'd you hurt your hand, Tatsuha? You said you'd tell me later. Why later? I hope you didn't hurt yourself because of me."
Tatsuha's breathing was slow, undisturbed. Ryuichi remembered how nervous the boy had been as he entered the apartment, trying to hide his hand, shying away from Ryuichi's suggestion that they change places this time. But something had happened. The boy's confidence was gone, and it was different from their last session on a bed together. Tatsuha's face had been pure fear as the singer positioned the boy beneath him. Gradually, Ryuichi had gentled the look into trust, then roused it hard into ecstasy.
"It scared me when I saw the bandages. Then I was relieved they weren't on your wrist."
The singer frowned. He could guess what Tohma had said to the boy. He thought over his bandmate for a while, then pondered the other matter, this new and troubling aspect of his own sexuality. Finally he rolled over, placing his lips close to the boy's ear. "Ryuichi-Sense?" he breathed into it. The singer made a faint scoffing noise, but found himself smiling.
"One soul calling to another, is that what you said? I think you really do love me. And I think you love me too much for your own good." He lifted himself up so his mouth was poised just above Tatsuha's. "It would kill you if I broke things off, wouldn't it," he whispered.
For another long moment the singer watched. He leaned down, and tasted Tatsuha's lips with his tongue, breathing in their flavor, imprinting the scent on his memory.
A sigh. "But right now, I think it would kill me, too."
Continued in Chapter 11.
