It was as if the hallway was neutral territory, a fragile tentative peace, and any words or action would shatter it.
I took Mitsuhide's hand, and he silently led me back to his room, where the windows were still open to the night. If I expected him to fall upon me in sudden passion, I would have been disappointed. Instead, he walked me to the center of the room, then took his time creating an atmosphere.
He lit that incense, shuttered lanterns, blew out candles until I was standing in a pool of moonlight.
When he moved to shade the window, I finally spoke. "Don't." I wanted to see him. More than that, I wanted him to see me. To know it was me, not Mai. It mattered. It was too late for me to turn back, and I wouldn't, not now, even if he was fantasizing me as someone else, but I wanted him to be reminded whenever he looked at me, just who it was with him.
He hesitated at the open window then gazed back to me while the moonlight softened the sharp angle of his cheekbones. For the first time, I could see that I was not the only one who had been caught up in indecision. Finally, he turned away from the moon, leaving the window uncovered as I had asked.
He strolled over to me slowly. I don't believe that he was giving me one last chance to change my mind again, no, this was him being theatrical. When he met me in the center of the room, he reached out, and freed my hair from the complicated knot that Mai had helped me achieve this morning. It curled around my face, wavy, because it had been damp from a bath I had taken on board Nobunaga's ship when we'd put it up.
He took his time pushing my hair this way and that, to the point that I couldn't stop myself from saying, "If you wanted a doll to play with, you should find a child's toy."
He left off his stylistic interpretations, then destroyed whatever he'd been trying to do with it by tangling his hands in it. "Impatient?"
I shrugged, not really having the courage to talk through my I-don't-know-if-it's-me-you-want-or-what-you-are-doing-with-me-to-begin-with crisis. I mean… he hadn't even tried to kiss me yet. I didn't know if the theatrics were to benefit him or me. Maybe this was just his style?
"Ah." As if my shrug had answered his question, he slithered behind me, standing so close that I felt the rhythm of his heartbeat through our clothes. He wrapped one arm around my waist, holding me close as he pushed my hair to the side and bared the back of my neck. As always his fingers felt cool against my skin.
After a couple of feather-like touches across my neck, almost as if he were drawing an invisible X, I felt his lips press against that spot, just as lightly and gently as his finger had traced it. Without moving, he undid my sash, easily, dexterously, and it slid to the floor. The cool night air tickled my skin, and I shivered when he tugged my sleeve down.
I was nearly dressed still, just one shoulder exposed to the room, to him.
After another whisper of a kiss on my skin, he stepped away. "Don't move."
Of course I moved.
I turned to watch him rummage through bottles he had on the shelf, lifting one, then another, as if he were a mad scientist. When he turned back to me, he was holding two small jars – some kind of perfume, maybe? The only acknowledgment that I had disobeyed and moved, was a tiny lifting at the corner of his mouth. He had known I would watch him.
"What are those?" The room already was smoky from the incense. I didn't see the point in adding another aroma. Were these the scents that Mai wore? What if, being unable to darken the room enough to fool his eyes, he was determined to confuse his olfactory sense instead?
He wouldn't go that far would he? I pushed that thought away. No. He wouldn't be that obvious. He wouldn't be that callous.
"This," he held up one jar, "was what I used on your headache. This," he held up the other, "is what I sometimes use on myself when I'm sore after a long day." He pulled a little of each into his hands, then rubbed them together.
Oh. I was about to get a massage. Or whatever passed for one in this era.
Carry on.
"Did you think I was about to slather an aphrodisiac all over you?" He chuckled to himself. "I hadn't thought of that, but if that is something you have an interest in... I could probably find an applicable oil." He made a move toward the shelf.
"I'm good." No need to tell him what I had really been worried about. "Er, should I lie down?" It had been a very long time since I'd had an actual massage, but generally they were conducted lying down. Or seated.
"Should you?"
Great. I'm in the middle of a seduction by Socratic dialogue.
He took me by the hand again, led me over to the futon, and wordlessly indicated where I should sit. Once I was kneeling on top of the mattress, he positioned himself behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders.
My unfastened kimono slipped lower over each arm, and I held it up to my chest to stay covered. Mitsuhide tsked, but didn't otherwise comment. As he began to work on muscles that had been sore so long that I'd stopped noticing the pain, and press away the tension I'd kept there for… Well for far longer than the seven years I'd been living here. Soon, the oils began to sink in, alternately warm and cool at the same time.
"Dear me, you do appear to be rather tight," he said, carefully working the oil deeper into the muscles, his palms pushing a circular pattern around and over my shoulders, the hot and cold of mint and eucalyptus radiating in concert. He even pressed his fingertips to the base of my skull, and I dipped my head lower to give him more access.
Hmm, forget about having sex, I could just fall asleep right he-
"Dear me, we can't have that." He reached around to cup my breasts, rubbing his thumb over my nipples, and those oils that had been so lovely on my sore muscles evoked a completely different response.
I caught my breath, once, then again when, without warning, he bit my earlobe. Was the back and forth between a cool, an almost impartial touch and, this, this heated kiss along to the side of my neck, his way to stay in control, to keep me off balance? I ought to resent it, but at the moment my body was telling my brain, "don't worry, I got this, you just go take a break now."
As he continued to lavish attention on my neck, he turned my face toward his, until he finally kissed me on the mouth. Lightly at first, with the slightest pressure. When I shifted to face him, to give myself better access to him, he turned with my action, pressing me back, with, should I describe it as balletic grace?
So odd to think of it that way, but it was like a dance indeed as we melted backward, allowing gravity to take us to the futon. The kiss deepened and I lost myself in it, digging my fingers into his back.
Maybe that was the signal he had been waiting for. He bit my lip, then again, and even a third time, his teeth scraping against my flesh. Finally, he slid his tongue into my mouth, tasting me, tickling, teasing and I sighed into him. Had I been worried that there would be no kissing, that worry was chased away by his kiss.
For, oh I have no idea how much time passed, we kissed, and only kissed. Though our bodies naturally rubbed up against each other (maybe that was just me, pulling on him, gripping him closer), we were both still mostly dressed. True, my kimono had fallen open long ago, but even with that, only our mouths were involved in these kisses. Clearly Mitsuhide believed in taking his own time for things.
In one of the few moments that my brain restarted, I noticed that he was holding himself almost in a plank position over me, braced upon his elbows, and I had the hysterical image of planking sex becoming the newest internet trend. I choked off a snort of laughter, but not before Mitsuhide noticed. "What is it?"
"Private joke, one which will lose too much in the telling to explain." This was not the time to go into the time travel revelation, let alone the bermuda triangle of yoga, dangerous stunts, and the internet.
"If you have the space for private jokes, I am not doing this correctly." Before I could assure him it had been a momentary mental blip and not a complaint, Mitsuhide upped the intensity of his attention.
By which I mean he started sucking at the hollow of my throat, while he ground his hips against mine. I arched off the futon in response and I could feel him smirking into my neck. "I thought you would enjoy that. Though, this area is likely in need of attention as well." While he continued kissing my neck, he reached over to caress my breast, thumbing the nipple about two degrees short of pain and likely one degree short of the pressure that would have had me exploding on the spot. There was nothing for me to do but hold on, I... might um, have tugged on his hair slightly before I changed my grip, clutching his hips, trying to pull us closer. "Not so fast. We have all night."
He let up a moment to breathe into me, and I unwound slightly.
All night? There it is, apparently his actual torture specialization is six hours of foreplay.
"That's an adorable pout you're wearing." He kissed my forehead, unaware of my inner horror at being considered pouting. "No?' You wouldn't characterize it so?"
OK. Totally aware. "Pouting... it's immature. It's not undignified." I tried to right the balance by pulling out my best glare. I had overheard him, on board Nobunaga's ship, teasing Mai about her pouting, I was now reminded that I was not his first choice.
"It was a compliment, but that is of no consequence. It seems I find your glare and that now rebellious expression equally as charming." He rubbed his thumb along my lip before adding, "If I may be permitted to say."
"Like I could stop you." I'm sure that if I had tried to cover his mouth, he would only bite my hand. Which might actually be kind of ho- Nope. Not going there.
He only laughed. "Charming indeed, but I'm now compelled to put a different look on your face." That was all the warning I had before he kissed his way down my body, lavishing attention on each breast, while one hand rested casually between my legs. As the kisses increased, he would pause only to take a breath, the air puffing cool across my skin.
And with each breath, he would slide his hand upward, teasing little strokes, enough to increase my need, without giving me satisfaction. I couldn't prevent moaning even though I'm sure that's exactly what he was waiting for, what he would have considered a victory, a domination, but one of pleasure, not of pain.
As if on cue, he stopped. "This would be the moment when the begging should commence."
"If that's really what you are waiting for, then this is also the moment when the leaving will commence." If he was waiting for me to beg, he was going to grow old and wrinkled before that occurred.
"I assumed as much. I was simply offering you a point of education." He moved his hand upward, his thumb sharply pressing on me and I gasped at the resulting bolt of desire that zipped through my body. "Should I also assume by the way you're breathing that you would like to have your release?"
"That would be appreciated, yes." I knew he'd been prolonging things on purpose, and as enjoyable as it was, I wished that he had a bit less self control.
There was no denying that the physical gratification was off the charts. But a part of me that I didn't want to examine, felt lonely, I pushed that back. Not lonely. Just unbalanced. Why am I the only one nearly losing control here?
If I wanted him to be equally affected, then … Why lie back and wait, when I could... Two can play at this game, sir. Until this moment I'd simply been hanging on, holding him as close as possible, allowing him to set the pace.
Bracing myself, I changed my center of gravity, and pushed against his shoulder. Possibly he hadn't been expecting that, because it was easy to flip us over. Taking advantage of the higher ground I quickly straddled him, using all of my weight to press down on his shoulders, taking a chance to carress his lean muscles. I wanted to touch him too. "Your turn." I wiggled my butt across his erection, to make my point.
But as I reached to untie the sash of his hakima, he grabbed my hand. "No." I must have looked as confused as I felt, for he added, "I do not wish for you to have to deal with a child."
Oh. Well. "A while ago, I met a kuinoichi. And as we both were staying at the same Inn, we had time to talk about our lives. She told me about a Chinese tea that is supposed to prevent conception. She assured me it worked, all of them dr-." At the last moment I realized it probably wouldn't be prudent to mention who "they" worked for. Not that I had met her employer personally, but I knew he was an enemy of the Oda. "Um, all of the women in her, um, team drink it."
"Given who I suspect she works for, that's probably for the best." Of course Mitsuhide had figured that out without hearing the proper name.
"And while at the time, I didn't think that I would willingly put myself in the position where I would need it, I knew that even my male disguise wouldn't be enough to prevent me from unwillingly being in that state." The dark look that crossed his face – yeah, he realized what I was talking about. "I'm good in a fight. And I'm fast at running away when I need to. But I acquired that tea, and I drink it, regularly."
Almost regularly. I had not had any tea during the concussion week and I had not been able to drink it during the time we had been on Motonari's ship, though I didn't think the timing would… Hmmm. I thought again. He was correct. I did not want a child either, and as disappointed as I felt about not experiencing a more intimate connection with him, I was grateful for his consideration.
"Still, Brat, I would do my best to protect you, and as such," he easily flipped me back onto my back and returned his his hand to the valley between my thighs. "We will proceed in this fashion."
With a bit more assertiveness this time, he soon had returned me to the edge. He inserted two fingers inside me, his hand mimicking the thrust that he would not allow his body to take. I wanted to protest that it wasn't fair to him, but then I caught a glimpse of his face in a rare unguarded expression. That distance he normally kept between himself and the world was gone, and though he was not smiling, the relaxed set of his lips suggested that he was indeed enjoying himself.
"Allow me to do this for you." His whisper was so soft, I could almost have imagined it. "Close your eyes, Katsuko." He gently kissed my eyelids closed then covered my mouth with his.
Soon my body had taken on that rhythm of his hand, and I moaned. "More." As if that was the signal he had been waiting for, he pressed his hand harder and faster until I exploded around him. Then while I was still figuring out if I could remember how to breathe, he used that same hand, still wet from my body, on himself, and finally took his own release with a harsh exhalation.
I dozed off soon after, curling into him, while he lightly massaged my hip. If he slept, I don't know...? Every time I woke up (as I often do, even when I don't have the distraction of another in the bed with me) he appeared to be awake as well, and he would pat my back or brush my hair out of my face while I drifted back off. Generally, we didn't speak during these moments which hovered awkwardly on the border of intimacy and anomie. Which was why, in the darkest night, after the moon set, I was surprised to hear him ask, "What is a Tonisstark?"
Tonisstark? Toni Sstark? Tony Stark? Err... "Why are you asking?"
His tone hovered between concern and humor. "You talk in your sleep... rather constantly and-"
"I do? Are you sure?" I would have thought he was teasing me, but, no he couldn't have pulled Ironman's name out of thin air.
"Very certain... don't worry that you're spilling Aki's secrets, none of it makes any sense... but this tonisstark seemed to be upsetting to you." He took my hand and turned his fingers in mine, a gesture that seemed to me to be the most romantic move he had ever made toward me. It hurt, knowing that he'd likely made it out of friendship.
"Oh. Tony Stark was my cat. He died a long time ago. But, well. He was a great cat." If I ever decided to stay in one place, I might get another, but the life of a courier is not really suitable for most cats. On the heels of that thought was the realization that a dog might be more willing to follow me across the country.
I should look into that.
"Unusual name for a cat. Sounds western." The interrogator was back in his voice, but it held a benign curiosity.
Maybe I should have explained the time travel… but it was late, and with Mai still keeping this information from him, it was simpler for me to lie. "It is. Francisco brought the cat to his lover, but she didn't want him." Well, it could have happened that way. Francisco was often bringing gifts to Fume, and had he ever brought her a cat, I imagine the poor feline would have met with rejection. True, Aki's house usually had a cat or two wandering in and out, but they were semi-feral, and only around to catch mice and stay warm in winter.
Apparently satisfied with my answer Mitsuhide pulled me close again. "There is at least one resident cat at Azuchi. Kitty is Mitsunari's, but she does have a regular visiting circuit around the castle. I'm certain you'll encounter her."
Uh yeah. About that..."I'm not going to Azuchi."
His hand tensed. "I realize it's not what you wished for, but I cannot stay here any longer."
I turned to look at him, but the moon had set, and his face was hidden in the shadows. There had been regret and determination in his voice. I cannot stay was not the same as I do not want to stay.
Something happened.
Something he was keeping from me.
Even now, I was not a partner. I was, as I had always been… an employee. "I'm not asking you to stay in Sakai. I'm releasing you from the rest of our contract."
"You are, are you?" His voice was soft in the pre-dawn darkness.
"I get that you need to be back in Azuchi. But there may still be some leads here that I can follow." Well... depending on what Aki's letter said, there might be. I put as much nonchalance and 'I don't need your help' into my voice as possible, and repeated. "I'm not going to Azuchi. There's no place for me."
"You undervalue yourself. If we don't find Akihira, you have plenty of skills to make yourself valuable at Azuchi. Your language facility alone would be enough for Nobunaga to employ you as a translator." Again though, his tone was cool, as if he were simply discussing options with a friend.
"I know. Actually he offered me a job the first time I met him. But that wasn't what I meant." I put my hand on his heart. "There's no room for me here."
That was as far as I was prepared to go in an admission of love. Mitsuhide was smart enough to understand what I meant anyway. There was a long moment of silence, in which a tiny, ok not so tiny, part of me hoped he would contradict me. And as much as I did not want this night to end, I wished for the sunrise to allow me to see his face.
When I couldn't stand the silence any longer, I said, "If Francisco has no other suggestions, I plan to return to Aki's house at The Mountain and go though his desk. Honestly, I should have gone back to the Mountain as soon as I realized he was missing."
There was no acknowledgement of my confession. Instead, he changed the topic. "From what I gleaned from Aki and Kyubei, I gather this place in the mountains is out of the way. Safe from invasion. Safe even from raiders."
That was more than true. "Once it snows, if it's a harsh winter, no one will be coming or going anywhere." Except… Aki. Even in the worst blizzards he always managed to reappear when scheduled. Almost as if… he had a way to time travel… from the Mountain? I put that on the list of things to investigate when I got back there. That, and maybe it was time for a long talk with Fume. How much did she know? "His chatelaine and I don't get along very well, and I know she'll put me back to work scrubbing floors. All winter. Cleaning up mud and melted snow."
He idly picked up my hand again and ran his fingers along the calluses that Sho never had been able to eradicate. "Maid? I can't see it."
"It is rather a long story." One that now we were parting, there was no time for. It was still pitch dark outside, a sign that winter was closer than ever. I made a move to get up. Having stated my intention to leave, there was no sense in dawdling.
He pulled me back to him, "Until sunrise. I did intend to give you a night you'll never forget." He already had, but I wasn't strong enough to turn him down. This time, he caressed me with even more gentleness. Not that he'd been rough before, but instead of demanding a response, he coaxed, instead of stretching things out, he savored... had I been with this man at the beginning of the night, I might not have made the decision to leave.
But in the wake of my confession, his consideration felt akin to pity, and so when the sun illuminated the room, it was without second guessing that I packed my things, turned myself into Katsu and left Kaya behind… except for the turquoise yukata (I couldn't bear to abandon that) and the lock picks (useful on every locked door except the one inside Mitsuhide's heart).