Hugs to Sueona, Princess Sin, Jollyolly, Chazmy and Morality – a million thanks for all your reviews, comments and suggestions. Bunches of thanks as well to all of you who have put my story on your favorites' list.
Disclaimers: Yoko Matsushita owns Yami no Matsuei. All my original characters are purely fictitious.
Love and darkness
Part Fourteen
Love's hidden face
In his dimly lit office, Seiichiro Tatsumi removed his glasses and flung them to his desk, cracking both its lenses. Apathetic, he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his forehead over a spot where pain had commenced to pulse. He reached for the lamp on his desk to extinguish its illumination and sat there for long moments in the dark, groaning from the sudden weight of his heart. Swiveling his leather chair round, he stared disconsolately out the window.
The sakura petals, paled by the pre-dawn light of Meifu, were blown, darting and pirouetting, trapped in a never-ending ballet by the eternal breeze of the netherworld. His tears blurred their lovely dance.
Wearily, he debated with himself on whether or not to go back outside and walk among the trees, to lay stretched out on the ground, let the flowers rain down upon him, covering him, hiding him… become his shroud…
He slipped his hand into the silk-lined pocket of his jacket and pulled out several petals, stuffed in there the previous morning. It was a daily ritual for him, stopping to gather a handful along the way to the offices of the Judgment Bureau every morning. In the palm of his hand, they still felt silky, even though their edges had begun to curl and fray.
These delicate blossoms that bloom perennially…
"How pampered and privileged we are to be able to enjoy sakura blossoms all year round…"
"You believe so? Some things… become even more precious when they are rare, and fleeting… in the mortal world, these blooms are treasured because they are a metaphor for the ephemeral nature of human existence…"
When he closed his eyes, tears tracked down his cheeks and the secretary of the Judgment Bureau recalled the expression on that face… as his left hand had fallen to his right, thumb absently stroking his watchband, that trademark habit of his… the sight of his eyes pulled far, too far away, to where Tatsumi couldn't follow… to another place, another time … the wistfulness, the longing… and then, right on cue, the shadow of pain…
As he had done ever since the day his eyes had settled on him for the very first time – the insecure, self-effacing, fresh recruit with the shy smile… as delicate as the sakura blossoms that Seiichiro loved, he had summoned all the reserves of his willpower, stopped his hand from moving, from touching, holding, comforting…
Seiichiro drew air into his lungs, expelled it heavily though his mouth, more memories playing out in his head…
"But why…? Have I offended you…? Tell me…! Do you… dislike me? I… don't understand… I thought we were getting along so well… I… thought we were friends… that you liked me…"
When he evoked Asato Tsuzuki's face, the face that had been twisted with anguish, the Shadow Master was wracked by sobs, and he did not try to stop them from coming…
Biting his trembling lower lip, those beautiful eyes glimmering with tears, so deeply hurt… yes, he had hurt him, again, and added more pain to the heap piled in the remnants of what had been his heart, slashed at that already destroyed ruin with one more vicious strike…
Yes… I'd plunged my spear into the willing, sacrificial body of a penitent lamb…
And what had been his answer to him?
Seiichiro covered his mouth with the back of his hand, against the outpouring of his sobs, the memory of his reply hitting him, a fist in his guts, the hand of that fist embedded there, a claw of condemnation…
"Don't take it personally, Tsuzuki, and stop being such a child! Look at yourself, a grown man, crying… We're… just too different, you and I… I know you can't help the way you are, but… you just rub me the wrong way… you try my patience… I've reached the end of my tether. Our partnership won't work out… better to end it now, don't you think, before my annoyance turns into hatred? Surely you'll be better off too, without me snapping at you and biting your head off all the time…"
"I… I don't mind it at all… I deserve it… I'm such a fuck-up… I know that… I swear… I'll try really hard… not to make you so angry… Tatsumi…"
"No. I've made up my mind. It's over. I'll inform Chief Konoe first thing tomorrow…"
He had rehearsed it, thousands of times – what he would say, what he would do to protect himself against the man's weapons of conquest… the man, whose very persona was a weapon… the man, who didn't even have the slightest idea of what he had done, of what he did, every day, every hour, minute, second, that Tatsumi spent with him on assignments.
With a cursory, bitter laugh directed at himself, Seiichiro spoke aloud, "What he had done, what he did… huh… he didn't do anything, that's the irony of it… he didn't have to do anything… so blissfully oblivious… of what you did… still do… to me…
"Please, Tatsumi…"
"Oh, for heaven's sake! Get it together! You'll get over it!"
He'd braced himself, hardened his face and heart and lifted his eyes to the crushed man standing in front of him…
His flushed cheeks, wet with his tears, wounded eyes piercing my soul…
The soft cheek… the one I almost… almost kissed, after I had gently wiped the blood off it with my handkerchief… that time… when he'd gotten himself cut there, by the violent wraith that had attacked him without warning, slashing at his face with her fingernails…
His heart splintering, he had spun on his heels, turning his back on him, refusing to look back at him, kept walking resolutely, while tears stung his eyes and spilled. Behind him, he'd heard Tsuzuki's footsteps as he dashed off in the other direction…
A performance worthy of a standing ovation…
But no impressed, beaming faces, clapping hands and shouts of 'bravo!', bouquets and champagne awaited the accomplished thespian… only a cold, dark, empty room…. a chilly bed into which he had crawled, burrowing under the sheets, crying himself to sleep…
Silently, bravely, he'd borne Yutaka Watari's accusatory glares and scathing rebukes the next day…
"What'd you do to Tsuzuki, you cold-hearted bastard?! He came over to my place, crying! It was you, right? Don't try to deny it! You yelled at him again, right? Tell me something, Mister High and Mighty, Mister Self-Righteous Prick, what did he ever do to you to make you treat him like that? Huh, I wonder about you… were you born this way, or did all your emotions die along with you when you died?!" The blond, seething, had sneered. "Look at you, sitting there like a living corpse, not in the least bit concerned! He was so upset, so I took him to Kyoto and he got plastered. He's still at my place, nursing a whopping hangover! Gods! I'm so mad at you right now, I could just wipe that bloody poker mug off you with my fist!"
"If it will make you and Tsuzuki feel better, please, be my guest."
He had truly wanted to feel the blond's fist smash against his face, repeatedly… until he lost consciousness, because then, he wouldn't feel the pain in his heart any more…
In the end though, the blond had thrown up his hands and declared that it wouldn't be worth it, that slugging him would be a waste of his time and wouldn't change him anyway, and had stalked off after throwing a final glower of disgust at him… only to show up again in an hour, shame-faced and deeply apologetic for the words he'd used and for losing control, but quick to point out that he was still mad at him, and to request that he try to be kinder to Tsuzuki. Seiichiro had told him not to be concerned, and that he had already put in his request to be paired with someone else. Yutaka had looked surprised, upset and puzzled all at once, but hadn't commented further…
And now, he'd lost it, again, tore into him, for confronting Muraki head-on, all by himself… like an over-protective mother hen, and had drawn the usual reaction from the Shinigami. What could he say to him, to make him understand… why he did the things he did… that he worried about him, cared about him… and not because he hated him, or that he did those things to annoy him, out of malice… that he would, no matter what, always care… even if… he ever found somebody… someone, who could reach down into the abyss of him, find and take hold of his soul, heal it, kiss it, love it, love him…
You always think of yourself as contemptible, imperfect… but to me, you are, and will always be… perfect…
Yes, I'll still care, for always…
For so long I'd waited… to perceive some small indication from him… so I could free what I felt for him, let it out into the open… confess it to him… but it never came… and I knew for certain that it never would… I was his 'aniki', and always will be…
Seiichiro's weeping became intense, with the rawness, hurt and emptiness of one who, by Fate's design, perchanced to fall for the wrong person… someone who would never love him back, at least, not in the way he wanted…
Elated when he had been selected to pair with him, their partnership had become progressively unbearable for him. He'd fallen, crashing headlong in love with him, had longed to hold him, heal him… waiting, hoping, like an adolescent smitten for the first time, for something to flicker in those mesmerizing purple depths…
"I've been waiting for you for hours! Where have you been, aniki?"
From that day, when that word, which confirmed how Tsuzuki regarded him, came out of his mouth, he was forced to face the bitter truth.
Hurt, crushed, he reacted unkindly, becoming increasingly impatient and harsh towards him. His bewildered partner had swallowed his hurt, storing it away with its kin that lay buried in his heart, and worked hard to please him, smiling through the sting of his rebukes, stood upright and took the bitter onslaught of his frustration head-on, quietly tolerating the symptoms of Seiichiro's sickness of unrequited passion...
Night after night of lying awake, filled with remorse for his treatment of the one he so desperately loved, he thought he was slowly going out of his mind…
Until that day, when he awoke with a frightening urge. Consumed and clouded by that urge, he came up with a last-ditch plan…
I'll force him… maybe he's the type that needs to be forced… the type that needs to be led… perhaps he does feel something for me, but never had the courage to say anything… damn this 'aniki' shit! I want him, and by gods, I'll have him!
As soon as they were sent on an assignment, he waited, ready to spring into action at the first opportunity, which would surely present itself, taking into consideration Tsuzuki's tendency of seeking physical contact, purely innocent on his part of course, with his 'aniki', whenever he was distressed, or ebullient…
Yes… he's predisposed to cuddling, and that's when I'll…
In the gloom of his office, Seiichiro quaked and laid down his aching head, resting his wet cheek on his desk and whispered, "Thank the gods for my better judgment, for my self-control…"
When the opportunity had presented itself, he had spurned it, and had never regretted it, thankful at not having ruined everything, and losing the respect of the one he loved.
Horrified that he had come so precariously close to forcing himself upon him, he had made his decision to end their partnership…
Some things are not meant to be…
Things happen for a reason…
Sighing, he consoled himself with these adages, the pain in his heart easing and softening his sobs. He raised his head, supporting it with his hands, speaking aloud to confirm what he had always known, even though he had rebelled against it and held on to hope – as a means of reconciliation and acceptance, to help him to move forward…
"I am not the one meant for him… Someone else will be the one to hold him, comfort him, and love him. And when that someone enters his life, I will be happy for him."
He started when he heard the knock, and the voice, docile, hesitant, "Aniki… are you in there?"
Panicked, Seiichiro employed his handkerchief to wipe his tear-streaked face, stuffed it into a drawer with his broken glasses. Hastily, he combed his fingers through his messed hair to make himself presentable.
Clearing his throat, he called, "Come in, Tsuzuki," but forgot to turn on his desk lamp.
"Um… why are you sitting here in the dark, Tatsumi?"
"Ah… I was about to leave…" he lied, and quickly turned the light on. "Something the matter? Come, sit down." The secretary's hand gestured at the Shinigami to approach.
Tsuzuki, striding towards the desk, instantly registered the shadow master's distress: pinched face, puffy eyelids, reddened eyes and nose…
He did the only thing he knew how, something that was second nature to him, whenever he was deeply sorry for something awful he had done. He strode quickly around to Tatsumi's chair, lunged at him and grabbed his arms, pulled him to his feet and embraced him.
This… is what I've had to endure… his naive embraces… all this time, and he doesn't know what he does to me… ah, how can I blame him for what I feel…?
"I'm so very sorry, aniki… I've hurt you, you've been crying. Forgive me, Seiichiro. You yell at me because you worry about me… forgive me… I know I'm despicable, thoughtless, and selfish… I really don't deserve to be cared for by you…"
Seiichiro Tatsumi listened to the Shinigami's blurted, choked words, and smiled as his hands reached to gently pull the miserable man back from him so he could see his face, so Tsuzuki could see the sincerity in his eyes when he told him, "No, you do deserve my care, Asato, every bit of it." He smiled down at contrite violet eyes, lower lip bitten nervously.
"You… forgive me, then?"
"Yes. I forgive you." Tatsumi saw the happy, child-like grin on the face he had loved for so long for an instant before the Shinigami hugged him again, pressing his tousled head against his shoulder.
Feeling the warmth of the man in his arms, Tatsumi sighed softly.
This… is okay… this… is enough…
The ringing of Tsuzuki's phone startled them both, separating them. Tatsumi sat back down in his chair, watching the Shinigami, cell phone pressed to his ear.
"Tsuzuki… Hisoka? … When? … Okay… I got it… thanks, Hisoka."
Slipping his phone into his pocket, the Shinigami looked thoughtful when he sought the secretary's face. Tatsumi lifted his eyebrows in enquiry.
"I have to leave for Tokyo. Daisuke called… he wants to see me… told me to go alone… it seems Muraki left his apartment… and went… to Kyoto…"
Tatsumi frowned, face darkened, voice sharp. "Kyoto? Is he still there?"
Tsuzuki shook his head slowly. "No… he's back in his Tokyo penthouse… Daisuke followed him there… and back… apparently he didn't have time to call us… didn't want to lose sight of him… said he – Muraki – had driven out of the car park like a bat out of hell… sped all the way… to Kyoto… Daisuke wants to brief me on what he saw there…"
"Was anyone with him when he returned to Kyoto?"
"No… Daisuke would've mentioned it… hmm… I've just had a sort of…"
The secretary finished Tsuzuki's sentence for him with shrewd, narrowed eyes. "Epiphany, right?"
Both men stared at each other, completely different thoughts and emotions racing through each one's mind, but with one common factor…
"Oriya Mibu…"
Both men spoke that name simultaneously.
"Damn it!" Tatsumi's fist came crashing down on his desk, startling the other man.
"What is it, Tatsumi?" The Shinigami squinted at the man who was pulling open the drawers of his desk, rummaging through them. Finding what he was looking for, the secretary opened a small case, removed the glasses and put them on as he stood up.
"We may have been dreadfully careless…"
"What do you…?"
"Should've kept him here… we've no time to waste! Off you go, Asato… I'm heading for Kyoto… please, keep me posted, will you?"
The Shinigami looked abashed, and smiled sheepishly. "Of course."
"And, please…"
"Yes, I know, be careful, right? Don't worry, I will… you watch your back too, Seiichiro…"
Tatsumi smiled, before he vanished.
Long fingers flew gracefully across the keyboard of the pianoforte. The eyes of the man seated at the instrument, immaculately garbed in formal evening wear, were closed, absorbed in his playing. The notes of the arabesque resonated through the studio.
A swirling cloud hovered above the instrument, the tendrils of mist changing their shape languidly, their swirling guttered the flames of the candles set in a bronze candelabrum atop the white grand piano.
The demon's twelve optical orbs were riveted on the form sitting before the piano. It appeared to be taking pleasure in the music, its misty form darkening slowly, from gray to black, growing denser.
Sealed eyelids parted, the gleam of silver eyes swept over the cloud with adoration, lips moving to smile sensuously, educing a sighing sound from the entity.
Kazutaka Muraki's eyes never left his master. They played over the cloud mass until his fingers produced the last, soft notes of the piece he had chosen to entertain his master.
When he rose and strode out of the room, the mass and its eyes rushed behind him to shadow him, following him into the lounge. There, it watched deft hands open a bottle of wine, pouring the burgundy liquid into a glass.
"Did you enjoy my playing?"
"Yes."
Kazutaka smiled broadly at the breathless quality of his master's reply. After taking a sip of the wine, he dipped two fingers into it and drew them into his mouth, licking the wine from them in a blatant act of seduction.
In truth, he knew his actions were unnecessary… his master was already lusting, totally captivated by him the moment it swarmed though the window, but the fingers being drawn suggestively in and out of the mouth served to heighten the demon's lust as it considered its precious possession.
"You seem very… different, somehow…"
Chuckling delightedly, the man seated on the black velvet couch crossed his legs, flicking a fingernail at a wisp of lint on the smooth, midnight blue fabric sheathing his long thigh.
"In what way?"
"You've become… even more… beautiful, since I last saw you… it seems you've…"
The demon without a name fell silent, reticent at giving too much away, too soon…
It seems you've finally come into all of your powers, my exquisite little hybrid prince… your body has regenerated that eye… soon, you will be ready to be the weapon of my vengeance… and you'll be mine, forever…
"Does… it please you?" A breathless, husky whisper, ensued by open-mouthed panting…
"Oh, absolutely! Why did you… summon me? You've… never summoned me… before…"
The demon's rasping voice was as breathless as Kazutaka's, both appearing to be a pair of passionate lovers, the man, seducing; the entity, practically groveling…
"You're displeased… that I called you… did I drag you away from some important task, perhaps? If I did, please forgive me… But I wanted, needed… to see you… I've been longing… to see you… you haven't come… for some time…"
"Indeed, I have been busy gathering more souls for my army… the minions, whom you will command, as I have told you, as my chief lieutenant… but how could I not come, seeing as this is the first time you've ever summoned me…"
Kazutaka licked his lips after draining his glass. "Do you really… love me… that much… that you would place your army under my leadership, master?"
"Have I not told you… that the reason I came to you was to be of help to you, because I loved you… have I not professed my love for you… enough times? Do you doubt… Kazutaka?"
The head of silvery-white hair tossed, and turned away, a childish pout stamped on the face before the demon.
"Yes… I doubt, master… because you've never… told me anything about yourself, who you really are… what your objectives are… why you are amassing your dark militia…" Kazutaka's tone was petulant, hurt…
"All in good time, my chosen, my beloved, I promise you…"
Patiently, the demon waited until the sulking expression melted into one of affection. The flood of worship, love and desire that had met it upon its arrival increased a thousandfold in intensity as the silver eyes stared at it, enveloping the entity, overwhelming and delighting it…
"Do you doubt… my love for you, master?"
The demon's reply sounded thick, strangled by the onslaught of Kazutaka's passion.
"Ah… no…"
"You can feel it… can't you…. my love for you…?"
The demon saw the form on the couch rising, moving towards it until Kazutaka stood in the very center of the thick, black mass.
"Yes… ah…"
"Pleasure me…"
Kazutaka's master obliged and soon, the man in the mist was horny, hand rubbing his groin and panting…
The entity surged behind Kazutaka when he entered his bedroom. There, he commenced a slow, seductive striptease, reducing the demon to sprawling tongues of mist, lapping and slithering around bare ankles, vocalizing its lust in bestial growling.
Its eyes burned red-hot above the man stretched out on the bed, whose slow, stroking hands were engaged in the act of self-stimulation.
Kazutaka smiled lazily. "Feel… share… my pleasure, my lord and master," he whispered, parting his lips, opening his mouth wider…
The Sweeper, in invisible mode, straightened from his slouch, sensing the form of a Shinigami settle on the ground next to him.
"Yo! Good to see ya, how've you been, Tsuzuki?"
"If you don't mind, I haven't got time for chit-chat, Daisuke. So tell me, where did he go when he arrived in Kyoto?"
"To a place called 'Kokakuro'. Ya know it? Swanky place – restaurant by day, bordello for the elite at night…"
The Shinigami's heart skipped a few beats. "And?"
"It was weird, man. He slunk into the place, all shifty like, into the garden by the back entrance and hid behind a tree. He looked like hell, all crazy like… I was scared stiff, figurin' he was gonna bump somebody off, I was wonderin' what the hell I was gonna do, if it came to that… Hey, yeah! And another weird thing, that gash on his head… it was gone, I mean, totally gone! Go figure…"
"Yes, go on."
"Well, while our man's lurkin' there for I dunno what, this tall dude, long dark hair, good-lookin', comes strollin' into the garden… Our subject is like, gawkin' at him, looking sick, like he was havin' a heart attack… and then, well… one of your guys… can't recall his name, but you should know him, blond, with glasses, ya know… anyway, he was definitely a Shinigami… so this guy pops up outta nowhere, and then… him and the other guy… This next bit was why I asked you to come alone, I figured you wouldn't want anyone other than you hearin' about certain stuff, coz the Shinigami and this other guy start gettin', well… passionate's the only way to put it."
Daisuke paused, searching the Shinigami's face, found no surprise on it and continued.
"Meanwhile, our man the doc doesn't seem too happy about what's goin' on… seemed to me like he has a thing for the tall dark dish… I mean, you should've seen him, eatin' up the road with that cool car of his, overtakin' everythin' in his way. Huh," the sweeper shrugged, "talk about bad luck… somebody else got lucky."
"Go on."
"The lovey-dovey couple takes off into the house… subject seems sorta dazed… man, he just damn well froze… for half an hour, I swear, he practically turned into a statue. My butt was sore from sittin' on that branch, just lookin' at him… didn't see him twitch or nothin'."
Daisuke shook himself. "Man, it was creepy… never seen anythin' like it before."
"And then what?"
"All of a sudden, our man comes to life, gives the tree a whack and starts blubberin'… like a kid… go figure… hey, you listenin', man? You look a little spaced…"
"I'm listenin'," said Tsuzuki, infected by Daisuke's accent.
"He seemed to get his act together after a while… and then, I heard him, clear as day, say, "This will be my last act of revenge." Subject then heads back to his car, cool as anythin', like nothin' happened, and heads back here, no speedin' this time, just takes his time. That's it. Dunno if any of it's of any use, but there you have it, just bein' thorough…"
"No no, you did an excellent job, Daisuke," the Shinigami cut in, looking through the glass doors at the foyer.
"Posh digs, huh?"
"Top floor?"
"Yup, the penthouse… you goin' up there?"
"Yup."
"Use the private elevator on the far right. Wait for me here, I'm goin' around the corner to materialize, can't do it here, one of the guards is lookin' right this way… I'll go in and distract the security boys so you can use the elevator… they'll get jumpy if they see the doors openin' with nobody goin' in or comin' out."
"Appreciate your help, kid."
He stood half-dressed before the mirror, staring at his reflected self. Through a force of habit, newly acquired after he had awoken that morning in Meifu and felt it against his breastbone, he clasped the amulet…
A misshapen lump with the appearance of unburnished bronze, possessing no beauty or elegance, fastened to a simple, black cord. With only his dream to explain how it had come to be in his possession, he was still rather puzzled.
When he had asked the Shinigami, who was now his lover, if he had seen anything out of the ordinary during the night before he had awoken with it tied around his neck, Watari had seemed reticent; the blond had opened his mouth, blinking, became dazed, before declaring that he had not witnessed anything other than jolting awake and seeing him tossing around on his bed, sensing an evil presence and being paralyzed by it. Oriya remembered that strange dream-like encounter, of conversing with something or someone, the pressure of what had felt like cold claws upon him; and then the second dream in which a luminescent being had embraced and kissed him. In her soft voice, she said, "I am Sanae," securing the amulet around his neck. It was a talisman of protection, she told him…
"Goddess Sanae," he intoned with his eyes closed, "was it you… did your hands put this on me… but… why?" and felt his heart swell until he thought it would surely burst…
"Why do we pray to her, Mama?"
His mother drew him close, lifted him onto her lap and kissed his cheek.
"For protection, Oriya. Sanae is a protector goddess. She wields a sword and shield, both made of gold."
"Isn't gold very heavy, Mama? She must be very strong…"
Oriya's mother laughed. "Yes, she has great strength and when we pray to her, she gives us strength, and endurance. She is called 'the Sword and Shield of the East', and she commands the other three protector gods of the North, South and West, who are male deities. Sanae is their leader because she is the strongest among them…"
"Have you ever seen her?"
Mama hugged him tightly, kissing him again. "Yes… once… darling child… never forget, keep her in your heart, all your life… she is your very own goddess…"
"Yes, Mama… why are you crying? Are you sad?" He touched his mother's tears with his small fingers.
"No, Oriya, I'm not sad. I'm crying because I'm happy and because I love you so much…"
Relinquishing his hold on the talisman, he lifted his eyes to the ones in the mirror.
"Great strength… endurance… yes, you indeed filled me with these qualities…"
Pulling on his shirt, he saw them in his peripheral, a pair of miniature faces, captured by Satsuki's camera… Oriya had been aware of her, observing them, aware of her curiosity, and, her obvious infatuation with Kazu. She'd intruded on their conversation and insisted on snapping a photo of them, her voice high and tremulous when Kazutaka turned to her… He'd registered the surprise and dismay in her face when Kazu had pulled him close to press their cheeks together intimately for their pose…
His hand shook when he picked up the memento of a carefree moment in the lives of two young men so deeply in love with each other, exuberant, anticipating a blissful future, together… His unsteady finger traced the outline of the face joined to his, caressed the features… he'd still had both his eyes then, eyes that bloomed with love…
Licking off the dollop of red sauce from your finger…
"Well?"
"Mmm… needs more salt… hmph…"
"What?"
"Don't see why we couldn't have just met her at a restaurant…"
"Jealous?"
"Of course… You never spend this much time cooking for me… besides, I had plans…"
"Such as?"
"Handcuffing you to the bed…"
"Ooooh… and?"
"This and that… and more this and that… be forewarned, mister… I've been sorely deprived…"
"So have I… let me tell you, it's not exactly fun having hard-ons in the middle of rounds, mister… it's been crazy at that hospital… three fucking weeks! C'mere you… … gods… I've missed you… … I'm sorry… … things'll get much better once I finish my internship, you'll see… hey, why the long face?"
"Just pissed is all, your first day home and we have to entertain! Tell me why we're doing this again?"
"Hey, you used to like Satsuki in high school… what happened?"
"That was before she followed you to medical school and decided to fall in love with you…"
"Okay… fair enough… but she didn't decide to become a doctor because of me… her parents railroaded her… the poor kid…"
"Yadda yadda, tough luck… the other reason I'm so pissed, is…"
"Uh-oh… there's more?"
"You bet, mister! I'm so fucking horny and I'm in no mood for her plastic smiles specially patented for me… the real ones are exclusively reserved for you, Muraki Sensei…"
"Ah, well… the horny thing I can fully understand and sympathize with, but as for the other thing, well, you won't have to put up with that anymore…"
"How come?"
"She's engaged… she's bringing her fiancé tonight… didn't I tell you…?"
"No… but whoopee, anyway…"
"More good news while we're at it… I'm not on call this weekend… happy?"
"Whoa, I'm on a roll…"
"Do I get a kiss…?"
"… …"
"And… we still have the whole of tomorrow, during which, I, Muraki Sensei, will treat your ailment and completely cure you, to the point where you won't be able to walk, let alone stand up… how's that, mister?"
"Acceptable, Sensei."
"Right! Toss this stuff with that dressing while I chuck all this in the dishwasher and we're done… What were you saying, earlier, about science… and something…?"
"Mmm… I've forgotten now… oh yeah, I watched a documentary last night, 'The Science of Love'! I laughed all the way through it… it was that ridiculous… apparently people fall in love because of pheromones and some other such chemistry crap… well, fall in lust, maybe, but when it comes to love, science falls flat on its face…"
"O-kaay…"
"Science will never unlock the mysteries of love… love is… a world unto itself… science has no place in that world…"
"Hmm… I can't argue with that, my gorgeous philosopher… c'mere… I love… no, that's hardly good enough… even the words devised for us to employ – love, adore, desire, crave, et cetera, fall short… they don't convey precisely what… I feel… for you… … what time is it?"
"Half-past six."
"Then we've got half an hour… oh gods… just look at you…oh, Oriya… I'm the luckiest man alive… take me there, now… where science has no place…"
Another zipper ruined… the sauce Kazu was so proud of got burnt… we ended up taking our guests out for dinner… Satsuki was radiant and her smiles for me were genuine, and beautiful…
A year later, my perfect world lay in ruins…
"I poured it all, every single drop of strength and endurance into my love for you," he whispered, swallowing the lump in his throat, "squandered it all willingly for you," setting the framed picture down, returning it to where it belonged, an altar before which he stood everyday to revere the lover he had lost.
Oriya Mibu picked up the ring and slipped it on his finger, slid it to the place where years of wearing it had carved a permanent, indented circle around his flesh. He raised that hand, shaking badly as if he was afflicted with palsy, adorned with the symbol of a commitment made years ago, bringing it close to the mirror so he could see it there, reflected in the glass…
Kazu's breath, his lips, against his ear…"With this ring, I bind myself, heart, mind, body and soul, to you…"
He heard his own whisper, slipping the ring on Kazu's finger, uttering the exact same words…
Kazu, kissing him… "Let the stars and heavens bear witness to our love…"
Their sounds of passion echoed in his head; he felt the warm earth against his back, lying on its covering of grass…
Bound to you, in love…
Even after you forgot your vow and removed your ring, I pumped more strength, more endurance into loving you…
"Please, Oriya…?"
Became the master of this place, so you could freely keep certain mouths shut, repay illicit favors and eyes turned the other way with gifts made of the flesh of women…
Bound to you, in madness…
Murdering my conscience while you murdered… strangling the word 'no' in my throat time and again…
Hideo Morikawa, sloshing more sake into his cup, tut-tutting…
"How terrible… was he drunk? He's lucky to have come out of it alive."
Following Hideo's shifty-eyed gaze, thrown over his shoulder… to Kazu, charming everyone at his table where he entertained that quiet, bespectacled professor from his college days...
Turning away, averse to allowing my eyes to fall on the two women, who sat on either side of Kazu, fawning, vying for his attentions…
Shutting my mind closed from the thought: which of the two will it be? Who will not live to see the day, Kazutaka? Who will taste your kiss of death? Or, will it be both?
Hideo, shaking his head, clicking his tongue again…
"Just look at him! Hard to believe he was in a car crash… such a pity about his eye, though… But why on earth did he choose a ghastly thing like that? It gives me the creeps!"
Puffing on my pipe and smiling, a consummate actor, through the nausea induced by my guilty knowledge…
Of the whole, sordid truth…
Car crash, my ass…
Clumsiness, inexperience… or had it just been a case of plain bad luck? Picking the wrong one, or, complacency?
Your first victim… lying on a bed in a private hospital in Tokyo, your hands had quivered when you recounted all the gory details of that night… had they shook when you'd throttled the life out of her?
You certainly hadn't bargained for her fighting spirit when you chose her, a mere slip of a girl… she'd fought you tooth and nail when she realized, all too late… the teeth marks and scratches on your skin bore chilling witness to her courage, her desperate struggle for her life…
But, her pluckiness couldn't save her from the blood-lusting embrace of a devil that looked like an angel…
The monster with half a chopstick sticking out of his mangled, bleeding eye, bearing down on her relentlessly…
"Please, Oriya…?"
Kazu… stripping off my soiled clothes… I'd thrown up all over myself… washing me tenderly…
"I'm sorry, Oriya…"
After disposing of the third corpse, I didn't vomit… never did, ever again… just dumped all the bodies numbly, devoid of emotion…
Bound to you, in sin…
My hands, shaking violently as I poured more sake to gulp it down… Hideo's sour breath as he leaned close, whispering thickly, his sharp eyes never missing a thing…
"What's wrong, my beauty? Have you run out? You should've called me, I would've been happy to bring more for you… you know I'll do anything for you, even though… you never give me anything in return…"
"Shut it, slime ball. I've never charged you for any number of girls you take in a single night…"
"Oh, don't get me wrong, Mibu. I'm truly grateful for all your favors! But… none of them really satisfy me… you know who I really want, don't you?"
The repulsive feel of his hand on my thigh… blowing smoke on his face…
"Remove your hand."
"Come now, don't be like that… you look especially ravishing tonight… you wear red so well… not one of your girls can hold a candle to you… hmm, I'm well aware of your disinclination to wearing underwear… the thought of you, scrumptiously naked beneath all those layers of fine silk is dick-jerking unbearable… I'll give you a year's supply… if you let me reach under them and feel…"
"You'll feel the edge of my katana and if you survive, you'll be dickless if you ever touch me again, Hideo. You sicken me… I can get my supply from a dozen other…"
Oriya laughed bitterly from the recollection of his remark, at the absurdity, the irony of his reaction towards the horny man seated so uncomfortably close to him that night; his contempt and disgust at the leering face…
Hideo, for all his complicities in underhanded dealings, had never murdered anyone nor arranged for anyone to be killed…
His laughter grew crazed… It's almost ludicrous! Kazutaka, a cold-blooded killer, had never filled me with disgust…
The blast of Hideo's breath against my cheek as he roared with laughter…
"Don't be so cocky, Mibu. Go ahead and try, though I seriously doubt you'll be in any position to, seeing the way you are now… eventually, you'll come running back to me… what you crave is not so readily available these days… I happen to be one of very few in this country to have contacts that purvey what you need…"
Hideo, casting a pitying glance at me… "Seeing you like this breaks my heart…"
Kazu's arm, snaking around Hideo's neck, applying considerable pressure, speaking softly, calmly, into the ashen-faced man's ear, his sweet, innocent smile drew attention away from the murderous gleam in his eye… the face of a tiger moving in for the kill…
"Say another word, Morikawa, and the commissioner of police will have a list on his desk tomorrow morning, names of cops on your payroll… you can resist and tell me that I need you and your dirty cops, but I would simply tell you that I don't need them, or you, because I have my own dirty cops… seeing as you were the lecherous weasel who introduced him to the stuff at that infamous soiree of yours when my back was turned, I won't tolerate you speaking to him this way… are you simply dull-witted or merely masochistic…?"
Impassively watching Hideo's panicked eyes, I was drawn into flashbacks of the night Kazu referred to…
… … …
Sullen and depressed, languishing in bed for days, refusing to entertain my clientele… not answering the phone, exclusively reserved for Kazu's calls… my flares of courage and sanity were effectively doused by the mere sight of you, striding coolly towards me to quietly relieve me of my hold on my packed suitcase… you bathed and dressed me, cheerfully insisting that I needed to get out more… being steered through a motley throng of revelers – of dubious backgrounds and questionable ethics – as you proudly displayed me, a pathetic puppet on your arm, the speculative whispers and curious glances as we passed delighting you… I was drinking too much, too fast… when your attention was diverted, I made my escape from the empty chatter and nauseous whiffs of perfume excessively sprayed and slathered on the ladies… being discovered by Morikawa in the garden, swearing because I'd forgotten my pipe and tobacco… "I'm delighted to have made your acquaintance, Mibu-san… I didn't know the Doctor had such a charming companion," he crooned, opening a cigarette case. "Would you like one?"
He licked his thin lips as he brought the flame of his lighter to the tip of the unfiltered, hand-rolled cigarette at my mouth. Thanking him, I sincerely wished he would disappear and leave me in peace.
Rather than stand out, he blended in perfectly with his guests, the women included, who were far from being model citizens with unblemished reputations; the natural slant of his long, narrow eyes lent him a permanent, devious expression. Something about him set my teeth on edge the moment Kazu introduced us and when I took my first, greedy pull on the cigarette, that something became very apparent… his dark, slitted eyes played their gaze over me with open lust…
Several Morikawas swimming in my vision as I began swaying…
"Goodness me!" Hands steadying me… "A bit too strong for you, perhaps? Foreign tobacco tends to be… a friend of mine brought these from Colombia… you really ought to lie down, Mibu-san."
Stupidly allowing him to lead me, his sweaty hand grasping mine much too tightly… hazy warning bells ringing but much too light-headed to take proper notice…
Flopping, flat on my back after gulping down water from a glass he held for me…
"Here… they're much better smoked lying down…"
Further stupidity, but oddly eager, watching him light another one and bringing it to my mouth…
"What's in this…? It's…"
"Damn good, isn't it? Takes you to another world, doesn't it, Mibu-san?"
His giggling, loud in my ears, echoing… "Just lie back… and enjoy…"
Cool air against my bare legs… feeling deliciously drowsy… my balls and cock being squeezed, licked… engrossed, puffing deeply on the joint… descending into decadence… consenting to the molestations of a stranger's hands and mouth…
The joint being snatched from me… Kazu's voice… "Get off him… back away, Morikawa…"
Forcing my eyes open… Kazu, standing by the bed, holding a handgun pointed at Hideo… cocking it… Kazu's backhanded blow, sending Hideo reeling… "Get out of my sight, run, before I make it impossible for you to ever feel lust and get a stiffy again…"
Yelling at you, irritable, while you tended to my clothes, restoring my undressed state to decency… "Hoi! Where's my cigarette? Give it back!"
You stayed with me for a week after that, to keep me from it, extracting promises from me, promises I fully intended to break… thinking deviously, 'You can't stay here forever, Kazu,' determined to procure more of those delightful smokes that obscured my sorrow and guilt, as soon as you left for Tokyo…
Three days later, you were back… to find me, on my bed, senseless…
You, raging and cursing, searching through all my stuff and cupboards to locate my stash, bullying and roaring at a cowering Yoshida… hauling me out of bed, shaking me…"you goddamned fool!"
Yoshida, loyal to the bone, trying to come between us to protect me from your wrath… wrath you eventually unleashed on someone else…
Watching Hideo, sitting alone miserably at a table, shooing away all the girls who sidled up to him in succession… he bore no malice towards me, his eyes lighting up when I approached him… his face, sporting livid, colorful bruises wrung a measure of pity from me, enough to make me sit with him and keep his cup filled while he bemoaned his treatment at Kazu's hands, muttering… "I was left unconscious in my own living room, after being savagely beaten…he's crazy, I tell you…"
'That's what you get,' I thought, 'for tainting and messing with one of his dolls…'
Furtively and nervously, he enquired, "Is he here tonight?"
When I shook my head, he flashed a small, conspiratorial smile at me, extracted a package from his briefcase and slipped it to me… "Something special for you, Mibu-san… excellent quality… pure pleasure…"
Waking the following night to the sound of sobbing…
You, on the floor… hugging your knees, rocking back and forth… breaking my heart… again…
Yes, again… your beauty, from child to man; your love, expressed by your eyes, voice and body; your sorrow and madness – all these, broke my heart, again… and again…
Holding you, with all the strength of my arms, rocking with you, both of us weeping…
… … …
Kazu's hand, a vice at Hideo's throat…
"Nnngh… now, now, Doctor… I was just joking around…"
Kazu, loosening his hold, patting Hideo's shoulders…
"Of course you were. So was I. I'm happy to hear that you're such a good friend to Oriya Mibu. A year's supply, delivered first thing tomorrow morning. And, I'll thank you to keep your paws off him… need another remedial lesson, perhaps? No…? Good boy… Oh dear, look, your cup's empty… here… let's drink a toast to our continued friendship…"
You, leaning on the doorjamb, dapper in your white clothes…
"Aren't you going to join me for dinner?"
When I didn't reply, you came closer, looking at me with concern. "You seem paler than usual… aren't you feeling well, Oriya?"
"Don't… come closer… just get out!"
"I understand. Come, hit me till I pass out… you'll feel better…"
"Why… why? Oh, gods…"
"Gods? There are no gods, Oriya. They don't exist… gods, heaven… it's all a pile of rubbish. There's only darkness, and pain…"
Losing it… grabbing my katana, lunging at you, pressing the tip of its blade against your throat…
"I'll kill you… end your pain, end mine… I'll follow you to Hell!"
"Do it… do it… but kiss me first… kiss me, then kill me… don't follow me… forget all of it, forget me… live on…"
"Live on?! Damn you… damn you, Kazu!"
"That's it… yes, pour all your anger, hate and pain into your beautiful blade… kill me, Oriya…"
"Hate, Kazu?! Have you completely lost all your faculties, for you to believe that hate made me your accomplice? Hate?! Hate?!"
"Then pour your love into it… love me with your blade, Oriya."
You, looking at me with that single eye narrowing, keenly watching me, as my crazed laughter became sobs… lowering my katana… when I'd quieted, you whispered…
"Just one more, Oriya, I promise you. One last time, no more after that, you won't have to…"
You fell silent when I'd lifted my head to look at your face, still watching me closely…
"I promise, just one more. Will you help me out, one last time, please, Oriya?"
Before I could speak the word, my heart had said, 'yes'…
Staring at you… before me stood the boy in the uniform of our school, with such sad eyes… even then, from that first moment I saw you, I had loved you, worked hard to make you happy… my efforts paid off, earned me your smiles, gifted to me only when we were alone… then, the adolescent Kazu appeared… I fought with everything I had, waged a battle with the melancholy that imprisoned you… and won you… only to lose you, watching helplessly as you slipped through my fingers like liquid…
Blinking away the visions to gaze at the man – beautiful of form, brilliant of mind… but so deeply warped, a flawed diamond…
"Oriya… please?"
My mind, posing that question to myself: 'should you… ever want me to… commit… deliver the actual… would I…?'
Even before completing the thought, my heart had answered…
The stark horror… of what my love for you had done to me, clenching my heart…
The roar of a beast in agony, crying to be put out of its misery…
Your hands… locking onto the swinging blade just before it struck my neck… flinging it away…
Implausibly, amidst my abject despair, I was further stricken by the thought of your fine, skilled surgeon's hands, slashed…
Your hand, clamping over my mouth… tasting the salt of your blood… my legs giving way… your arm around me…
Being placed on the bed, mumbling to my goddess…
"Forgive me… forgive me… don't give me any more… I'll keep using it all to please him… surely now you should turn your back on me, goddess… now that you know… I can, and will, kill for him… I'm lost… I've already crossed over into Hell…"
The needle, stinging my arm… your eye, so full of sorrow… tears, sparkling jewels on your cheek…
Sweet wash of oblivion… floating into white light… praying to never wake again…
Standing at the edge of the river, watching her body – number ten, slip under the water's surface… no loved ones at her watery burial… her only mourners were the sad orb of heaven – the pale moon, and the skies, which had begun to rain down its tears…
Arriving back here… you, waiting for me, in celebratory mood…
Like a geisha, you plied me with sake and sushi, which passed through my mouth, a mouth that tasted nothing… you, talking incessantly, but I couldn't hear a single word… finally you stopped, came close and pressed your forehead to mine…
Being led to my bedroom, where you played with your Oriya doll… dressing me in red and gold… propping me up on the bed, fussing with the arrangement of my hair and garments until you were satisfied…
Snatching the pipe from your hand after you lit it, crazed by the cloying fragrance of the opium mixed in with the tobacco… sucking on it, drawing the poison vapor into my lungs like a man starved of air… sinking into sweet stupefaction… your arms pulling me close… sprawled on your lap, my head against your shoulder… drifting into delirium, snuggling into a cocoon where the voices of those dead women could not penetrate…
High and horny… getting my fix, pressed against you… getting so fucking hard… you hadn't slept with me in years… clumsily trying to get myself off, not giving a damn that you were there, watching me… you, finishing for me with your mouth… sucking in more ecstasy from my pipe, while you sucked me off…
From Oriya's limbs, the shaking spread to his torso. He staggered, lurching to his bed, tumbled onto the rumpled sheets, still redolent with passion and sex, his hands clawing the sheets…
Your scent still lingers, Yutaka…
I meant it when I said I loved you…
You couldn't hide it from me… the doubt flaring in your eyes when they flickered to the photo of Kazu and I when I brushed your hair… you glanced at my finger… yes, you remembered the ring…
Last night, if I hadn't forgotten for the first time, by some fluke, to replace it, would I have removed it before making love with you… would you still have gone to bed with me if I hadn't?
There it was, the question in your mind, your eyes searching mine: 'do you still… love him?'
I, in turn, couldn't hide my answer, couldn't lie…you saw it in my eyes before I looked away from your gaze… yet, you let me kiss you… you held me so tightly, whispering, "I love you…"
So quickly you'd turned away because you didn't want me to see the hurt on your face… before you vanished…
I never meant to hurt you… I didn't lie when I said I loved you…
If you tear off my mask… if you unearth the whole truth of who I am, what I am… would you, can you… still love me, Yutaka?
"Your car's waiting at the back entrance… Master?!"
Yoshida took one look at the form, twisting and thrashing on the bed, and rushed to the cabinet to remove the lacquered chest that contained the substance his master was addicted to…
While his hands worked hurriedly, the servant's eyes were fraught with pain and worry when the keening commenced, hair-raising sounds coming from his master…
"Quickly… Yoshida… give it to me!"
The devoted man sensibly refrained from focusing on his master's face when he brought the lit pipe to his master's lips – he couldn't bear to see it, that face, which belonged to the man who had been so kind to him, distorted by its grotesque contortions.
Oriya Mibu, his mouth joined to his pipe's, sucked frantically…
Yes… let me drown in it… sweet sap of the seeds of alluring flowers dipped in blood…
So beautiful, yet so deadly, so addictive… just like you… Kazu…
Gradually, his body lay limp, tears oozing from his glassy eyes…
I, who loved you with a desperation that defied my understanding, was powerless to save you from the torment that trapped your soul… all I could do was hold fast to my vow, love you with my entire being, whether or not you wanted or needed my love… I'll drain all the strength from this heart… for you… to the very end…
To be continued...
I'm all wrung out, exhausted, from writing all the angst, and as you can probably tell, there's going to be lots more of it…
Say a prayer for those who have loved and lost,
TGO