Chapter Two
He awoke to a flood of bright, blinding twilight and was met by a strong hand gripping his arm and a warm voice asking: "So, you have a name, don't you? Huh?"
It was the manner of a young man, he was certain of it. But who was it? Where was it?
"Kohaku," he replied meekly as he rubbed his eyelids. His early-morning vision was maladjusted and he could not see well-enough within the bedroom – or wherever it was.
The mysterious figure, who remained felt but unseen, introduced himself: "I am Koji. Kohaku, hmmm, it's nice to be alive, isn't it? Just what were you up to last night, swimming in the river, huh?"
The young man's friendly, almost happy tone lulled Kohaku into a smile. But it was not just that off-putting, non-threatening attitude that soothed him. Pleased him. There were possibilities latent beneath that tenderness and care. And he could work with it.
At last his notions of failure proved to be premature. It was perfect, as perfect as he conceived it when first he lay eyes upon the village. No, it would be better, even, than he expected.
To be sure, he was ambitious and failure was possible but he was certain he could do it. It was bound to require a little more time than usual yet it would be worth the effort. Not only for the satisfaction of completing the challenge but for the satisfaction of bringing satisfaction. Of being completely and utterly helpful. The one and only loyal servant, indispensable.
Venturing to complete the task, he would be crossing a wide, mental threshold. Going in he was merely a boy; coming out he would be a man, stronger and bolder. Proven. Initiated. In a way it would be like loosing virginity, albeit a virginity of a different flavor.
"A man, it was a man and he tried to rob me," Kohaku uttered weak, broken syllables. "Kill me. I fled – I ran into the stream – I – "
"A man?" Koji emerged into view, shifting the hand away from the boy's arm to his very own chin as if in thought.
Kohaku saw that his impression was correct: Koji was a young man, twenty years perhaps as opposed to his fifteen years and he was beautiful. Totally hairless, clean-shaven even into the eyebrows. He stared far away with deep, onyx eyes whose simple glance had the power to shatter his soul. He spoke coolly with such a silky voice that its every utterance calmed his nerves.
It calmed him too much, perhaps, and that could be dangerous.
In the years he spent wandering through the wilderness he learned various methods to survive. Some he discovered by watching – he excelled as an observer. Some he knew instinctively – as if he had been born with the experience. Like the face, that face, that he knew so well though he did not know it at all.
"He had long, black hair. And he was dressed in black – at least I think it was black." He sighed, shaking his head. "I don't remember. I just don't remember. He came upon me like a thief in the night. But you saved me?"
Koji nodded. Kohaku smiled again weakly.
In the natural order of things, first were the children. It was their eagerness to be helpful, to be curious that alone made them easy. So easy, in fact, that the methods were refined to be almost mechanical and effortless. And he grew bored. Then were the women. Especially the young, childless women, if he appealed to them, to their emotions of nurturing and love. But lately, as the face of that woman kept creeping into his mind's eye, he did not feel right with himself going for the women. He knew better, of course, than to be thinking such thoughts nevertheless he did and it bothered him that he did. Last were the men. They were difficult, different – unreachable? – busy with their lives and with their responsibilities. Men did not have the time and patience for the play required –
Unless, if he were to attract a man.
That would be different, that would be the ultimate achievement.
"I must be a mess," he said, coyly looking at him, at his lips, at his eyes, and just as quickly looking away. "I'm sorry to be such trouble to you, Koji."
"No, no. You're not anything of the sort." There was a profound sincerity attached to the words, as if he really did enjoy the company. And now it was he who held onto Kohaku's wrist. The boy smiled, acknowledging the touch. "You were a mess but that's alright. You weren't smashed into the rocks the way everything floating in the river smashes into them. Are you feeling better?"
Koji's hand shook as though it wanted to go from Kohaku's wrist to his face, but, the raven-haired youth squeezed it with his own, free hand and let the touch linger.
To attract a man.
For that reason he took more than excellent care of his appearance. Keeping his locks long, like a boy's. Keeping his face well-groomed – spotless, hairless – and his skin pallid like a woman's. Around people his manners, although not overtly feminine, were suggestive enough to catch the eye of the willing, sympathetic men. The method was successful but did not satisfy for it seemed to be attracting only the older, ancient men and he knew that would not be appreciated. Youth, vigor and life, was needed. And so, until that village, he honed the skill in the temples along the way where he was certain to find young men, starved men, eager for any attention and willing to follow him any where for a promise of pleasure.
"I think I feel better." But why did he let his hand, his fingers remain so close to the man's hand? "I struggled." And why did he long to see those eyes, feel those eyes looking at him? "I'm tired but all right." It was that voice, wasn't it? he thought. You must be stronger, Kohaku! "What about you? Are you all right, Koji?"
Mistake! Mistake upon mistake. By the gods, it was one thing to be haunted by a face, it was another altogether to be naming that face, knowing that face. Hearing that face.
He took his hand away from Koji's and brought it over to the nape of his neck where he reached a tiny, pinprick scar invisible to everything but his touch. You must be stronger, Kohaku, he told himself again and again.
"Oh, I'm all right, Kohaku."
The man sat next to the boy closer and closer along the floor mat. It was not a threatening, hostile gesture; rather, suddenly, Kohaku felt safe and at ease near Koji. It was a sense of trust he thought would be impossible to feel with anyone but –
He sighed, sitting up – trying, anyway –
Despite his youthful looks and appearance, in time he would be a man and in that world of man he would be cut-off forever from the company of women and children. And he would be a man already burdened with a responsibility humanity would not ever tolerate. If he were to continue and become what he wanted to become, he would have to endure the initiation. He would have to learn to compartmentalize the pain and difficulty of the process.
"Here," Koji got behind him and held him in a semi-embrace.
It was not erotic but it was intimate – enough to get Kohaku's blood pumping with excitement – and, one way or another, he knew he would be finished with his work sooner rather than later.
"Thank you, thank you for everything." Snuggling his cheek against the young man's shoulder, Kohaku whispered: "You're not like that thug; you're a very kind and gentle man."
Koji tightened his hold a little and let go a little. He wanted to speak but held back. And then, after a few, endless moments, he asked: "So, what's your story, anyway, Kohaku, huh?"
Calmer, but with more energy than before, he related a tale. He was stopped along the eastern road. He was assaulted by a ruffian. Weak and untrained, he fled through the darkening shadows of evening into the stream.
"I didn't think the current would be that strong. But I saw the village and I thought I might escape." He patted his chest, scar-less and naked, it was the first time he noticed he was not wearing clothes. Of course, they had been soaked and though in the bedroom he saw – with the aid of silhouettes wafting through windows – that his kimono was tented along a clothesline outside to be dried by the sun and the air. "I'm a mess and a fool."
Koji held onto the boy tighter and that time he did not fully relax the embrace.
"I don't think you are a mess. Or a fool."
Kohaku grasped the young man's arms and squeezed them playfully.
No! Resist, Kohaku!
"You're very lucky, Kohaku."
He did not say anything but in his mind he agreed.
But you are a mess and a fool, Kohaku! Fight it!
"My seal," he interjected, as if the recollection only then resurfaced. "It's the key to my identity. If I can find the box with my seal, if I can find it – did you see it?"
"No boxed, no seals. You did have a dagger." Koji ruffled the boy's locks. "I'll tell the men to be watchful. Now, relax, get better. There'll be time to search for things later. You're too weak at this moment and it's time for breakfast."
Kohaku smiled at the man. He was so playful, so friendly and caring. It was impossible not to be affected. He would be forced to summon all of his inner-strength to complete the task. And he was beginning to see it would not be as easy as he hoped.