Chapter 3

Part 1

Having made sure all the books we had delivered this morning have been unpacked and entered onto our database, I leave their shelving to the next shift and journey home.

Normally I find it satisfying to replenish the shelves in the early afternoon, when the bookstore becomes quiet before the evening rush. However, we had an influx of tourists today, good for the shop true but not for my stress levels. Now I feel the need to unwind after such a busy day.

I step from the chill of the train station's shopping complex into the wall of hot humidity beyond its glass doors and walk along listening to the cicadas. Perhaps I should treat myself to some…

An explosion reverberates in my head and a man appears in front of me, blood flowing from his head across the pavement.

I hear screams of shock as I fall on my knees next to him, my hand pressing futilely on his neck, checking for a pulse even though I know in my heart of hearts it's impossible. He was an attractive man, fine features, strong jaw line, beautiful long black hair, why did he jump? Was his job unstable, couldn't he keep up with the pressure or the financial insecurity, had he no friends or family to turn to. Tears blur my vision.

Miraculously I feel a faint pulse under my finger, weak but there. I should call an ambulance, should have already done so. I fumble for my phone with my left hand whilst my right stays on his neck, wishing to give some comfort in case he is conscious enough to appreciate it. Your hearing is the last thing to go, they say. "Stay with me, please," I beg him.

His hand covers mine and I drop my phone in shock. As I stare at him, his eyes open. His irises are blood red, surely that is not good. "Don't worry, you're Ok." Stupid platitudes, he so clearly isn't.

"Erm, I mean you're going to be fine. I'm going to call an ambulance; they'll patch you up." I glance around quickly. Although there is now a small crowd, no one has thought to call the emergency services either.

Part 2

I reach for my phone and having dialled 119, wait to tell them that I need an ambulance rather than the firefighters.

"I appreciate your concern; however, I do not require any assistance at this time." He sits up and rubs his head.

"But all that blood."

"Head injuries can result in significant bleeding, even from minor cuts. I can assure you that there is no reason to worry."

I gaze disbelievingly, his hair is caked in blood, how can he be ok like he claims. The crowd is more easily convinced than me and begins to drift away. His fingers reach for his collar, then looking worried he rolls over onto all fours and pats the pavement.

A couple of pedestrians hastily change direction so as not to trample him. I'm not sure he's even aware of them. "Have you lost something; can I help?"

He ignores me.

Embarrassed I hang up and scan the pavement too. From the way he's scrabbling around with his face so near the ground, I'd guess he's lost his glasses. As I'm hunting, a woman phones me back. I apologise for wasting her time and say that I was mistaken about the seriousness of the man's injuries.

He raises his head and addresses a nearby streetlamp. "I possessed a pin adorned with a black gemstone. It holds significant personal value to me."

"Don't worry, I'll help you." Hoping it hasn't already been crushed, I look around. Something twinkles on the ground. Perhaps that's it. "I found it." I pick it up and the gem shines brightly. Is it some kind of fancy torch?

"Thank you, I greatly appreciate your assistance." He's sounding mainly calm; however, I can feel more than hear an undercurrent of panicked. Therefore, I crouch down next to him and gently place it in his palm. He wraps it in his handkerchief and thrusts it deep into his trouser pocket.

"Can I call someone for you?"

"No thank you." Although he is talking to me, his lack of attention makes me assume his mind is elsewhere.

"But you can't see can you, have you lost your glasses too, or your white stick, or perhaps your dog?"

"White stick, dog," he repeats after me sounding confused. "No, I possess neither of those."

Part 3

Fear momentarily grabs hold of his eyebrows and tugs for a second before he defeats it. "If you would be so kind, please guide me back to the Royal academy of Concordia, as I have a spare pair of spectacles there."

I've never heard of such a place; I can't imagine that it is nearby. A quick search on my phone reveals the closest match is in Montreal Canada, but that's thousands of miles from Tokyo. "Do you mean Concordia University?"

He clutches his head as if in pain. My fingers instinctively reach for him, and I find myself holding his hand. I'm reminded of when I used to go to toy shops as a child with my parents. 'Don't touch the plushies or it'll be difficult to put them back,' my mum had cautioned. However, it's too late, his hand feels slightly chilled in mine and my mind is made up. "I think you may be concussed; the Academy is a long way away. You can come back to mine, and we can work out how to get you home tomorrow, when you're feeling better. I'm Poppy."

"My name is Jasper Lane. Can you please inform me of our exact location?"

Having given him the street and district, I try and help him stand. As I do so, his jacket and shirt ride up slightly, exposing the base of his back. The colour tattooed there makes that quality drain from my face. In my head, I'm screaming in fear. What to do now?

"Please, we must proceed swiftly, or my pursuers may apprehend us and I am currently unable to ensure your protection."

A sensible woman would let him fall. Run as fast as she could and pray that he died rather than live to recognise her. Why can't I do this? Why grab his hand and drag him along the pavements, when it can only end badly for me? How badly I don't wish to think about, news stories, images from games, words from books, tumble around taking it in turns to press themselves to the front of my brain. Pursuers? So, he didn't jump? Was he pushed? What if… He stumbles down the curb, up the next and walks straight into a tree branch. I drag him out of the way and continue on, glad that my fellow pedestrians know to get well out of our way.

Part 4

Back at my apartment, I lead him into my kitchen. My cat Prince isn't around yet. Several of my neighbours are retired and he prefers to play with them whilst I'm at work, rather than mooching around my apartment by himself. I have my suspicions that they feed him too. I pray that he will stay away until I have got rid of my guest.

I turn to Jasper and yelp, blood is oozing down from behind his torn waistcoat. If that injury is what I think it is, I don't care what he wants, he's going to hospital. "You've been stabbed haven't you."

"I can assure you that I have fully recovered; I have ceased bleeding, and I am no longer experiencing any discomfort." He's lying I can still hear the pain in his voice.

"You really should go to hospital."

"No."

Jasper is way too stubborn. However, he doesn't appear to be dying quite yet. Perhaps a different approach is needed to assess the damage. "If you're not going to hospital, I should clean up your injuries."

He seems reluctant. "If you provide me with…"

"You cannot see. What if you've got grit in the cuts…"

"A fair point." He removes his jacket and waistcoat and passes them to me. I focus on holding them, while on the edge of my vision, he slowly unbuttons his shirt, unbuckles his belt and waits. "Are you going to tend to me, or not."

I gulp, as my eyes drift down his chest to his lower abdomen. Jasper is a slender man, one who appears naturally toned rather than pumped from weights…. I jerk my gaze back to his face, guiltily. A smirk plays on his lips. There is clearly nothing wrong with his hearing and he knows full well the effect his semi-nudity is having on me.

"I'll just get my first aid kit." Eek my voice sounds squeaky.

Ok nurses do this every day, he is merely a human in need of some antiseptic TLC. And yet it seems too intimate to care for a stranger in this way. I refocus, the good news is that the stab wound on his belly is scabbing over, however, he has a lot of fresh wounds that need tending to, some of them look serious enough to warrant a trip to the equivalent of accident and emergency here. However, they don't look fatal and he's never going to agree to that anyway, so I'll have to try and do my best.

Part 5

Jasper makes a good patient, staying still and barely wincing at all as I clean him. Some of his wounds seem very odd, one looks like he's been slashed by fire and another like he's been clawed by a massive beast, I guess I am being fanciful. Although, what else other than lightening could have caused that burn pattern on his arm. "You'll need to remove your shirt, or I won't be able to check your back."

"Truly there is no need. I didn't flee."

Definitely a fight then and I don't need to see his back to know the reason he wishes it to remain hidden. There is no doubt in my mind as to what he is, I shiver. However, it's too late to undo my actions now.

While I hesitate not certain how to respond, he takes hold of my trembling hand and to my surprise holds it against the wound on his belly. I flinch worried that the pressure will hurt him.

He presses my hand harder against himself. "The coolness of your hand provides relief." His face is all business like and the pain in his eyes has lessened somewhat, yet I'm finding his closeness increasingly unnerving, and I can feel my cheeks heating. As if to match them, red light flickers around his body, almost like a mist. The colour intensifies, but that is one hundred percent impossible. All the emotional strain of the last hour, must be causing my hold on reality to weaken. I yank my hand out of his grasp. "Wait here, I will get you some new clothes."

Chapter 4

Part 1

I return to my apartment, entertaining the slim hope that Jasper will have gone, perhaps only been a phantom. Although if he's nicked my Xbox, and with-it hundreds of hours of gameplay, I'll be upset.

He's collapsed on my kitchen floor. I rush over to him panicking. "Jasper." Tears are back in my eyes.

"Hold me." His voice is strained and weak.

I do and he seems to regain a little strength somehow, clutching my hand tightly between his own. There is a cold darkness to his eyes that worries me, hitching up my heartbeat and flooding my body with adrenaline. It occurs to me that Jasper is considerably stronger than me, surprise and his visual impairment the only chances I'd have to escape. Time appears to freeze around us, then his eyes soften, and he says, "I believe that you mentioned clothing?"

"Erm yes I did." I walk back to where I'd dropped my purchases and pass them to him, before turning my back to give him privacy. He asks me to help with his buttons, and as I finish doing them up, he recaptures my hand; making me wonder if asking for my assistance was a ploy. A red glow appears around him again, perhaps hunger is making me hallucinate. "Have you eaten yet? Because I sometimes go to a ramen bar on the way home, we could get some if you like, the chef is fantastic…" I realize I'm babbling and stop.

"Food would be most welcome, thank you." He releases my hand, pushes up the sleeve of my blouse, and holds my arm just above my elbow.

After the tree branch incident, I am hyper vigilant about our surroundings and narrate our journey to him remembering to mention any hazards before they become a problem. It feels a lot easier walking with him holding onto me like this and I feel shame at the way I roughly handled him before, not that he complained.

Part 2

We are lucky to nab the last two of the eight seats at the counter. I place his hands on the back of the stool, continuing my narration and relating which dishes are on the menu. Although Takumi is busy cooking for the other diners with his assistant Kenta, he offers me a welcoming smile and soon takes mine and Jasper's order. This is one of my favourite places, cozy and laid back, why then have I brought Jasper here? I can only imagine I needed the comfort and that overrode the sensible or perhaps paranoid part of my brain. Well, what's done is done. Besides Jasper is extremely visually impaired, a pity in a way I wish that he could see the artistry with which Takumi creates our meal.

Our bowls are placed in front of us. I'm not sure what to do, I don't want to patronize Jasper, yet he hasn't moved so I pass him the chopsticks and move his other hand to the bowl.

"Thank you." He smiles at me; it reaches his eyes and yet I'm not convinced of its genuineness. Less so when it becomes apparent that he can't use chopsticks.

I catch Kenta's eye. "I'm sorry, he's Canadian, can he have a fork and a spoon, please?"

He passes them to me, with a gentle smile. "And you're English, yet you use them like a pro." He's teasing me, I blush shyly. I have a small crush on Kenta, he is such a handsome, jolly and kind man.

Every so often, I glance at Jasper eating; he seems to be enjoying his meal. As he should, Takumi prides himself on his broth which is made from a recipe passed down from his grandmother and simmered for days to develop its rich and complex flavour.

Part 3

Jasper and I talk about food on our return to my apartment, as friends might. He seems very knowledgeable about cooking, far more than me and he knows so many ingredients that I've never heard of. For instance, his favourite coffee is red, I didn't even know that was a thing. According to my phone though, it comes from Peru and is bursting with flavour, sweet, nutty and chocolaty. He promises to brew me some once he gets his spectacles back. The man is all smooth charm, which is pleasantly diverting. Although I reckon if I want to try red coffee I'm going to have to source and brew it myself.

I make us some Hojicha tea, and we continue to chat sat on my sofa together. I tell him about working in the bookshop and in return he tells me that he works as a valet. Considering what he is, that occupation is most likely a lie, although he can certainly spin endless believable tales about valeting. To the point where I'd believe he'd slipped through time from the Victorian period, if such a thing where possible.

"Please can you guide me to your restroom?"

"Of course." I glance at my phone. I can't believe it is already two in the morning, where did those hours go? I suddenly feel tired, now that Jasper isn't entertaining me, and embarrassingly realize that I've been holding his hand the entire time.

I guide him to the bathroom so he can clean his teeth and make himself comfortable for the night. I hope he is skilled at not making a mess because there is no way I'm hanging around to help him aim. Instead, I wait patiently outside before leading him to my bed. I bow even though I doubt he can see me and say, "Sleep well." Then grab my teddy and make my escape.

Part 4

First thing tomorrow, I'm getting his eyesight sorted out and then he will be gone. I'm not imagining that his irises are red. True no one in the Ramen bar paid him any special attention but why would anyone be so confrontational as to make eye contact? The optician will be a different story. I've looked it up, red eyes like his are not a thing. Which means he must have had his corneal tattooed. The idea of taking him to the optician makes me feel very uncomfortable. I will have to invent a hikikomori friend and hope the optician can give me some strong glasses without a prescription.

As I'm about to make myself a bed on my sofa, I remember the cold light I'd seen in Jasper's eyes. There is no way I feel safe sleeping in the same house as him. Neither am I leaving him alone, when he seems so unwell. I sigh, a bath isn't going to be the most comfortable of beds, however, at least I can lock the door. As I place my pillow the non-tap end, I hear him call my name. I need to be pragmatic, there is a chance that when he recovers his sight, he will kill me to prevent me talking to his assailants. If he does, I will see my parents sooner rather than later. Of course, he could do worse but that does not bear thinking about. For now, he is a guest in my house, and I will honour that. I give my teddy a fierce hug then with some trepidation re-enter my bedroom.

"I am feeling quite poorly, will you be so kind as to hold my hand?" The hint of fear is back in his voice, and it twists around my heart and drags me to his side. Pulling over a chair, I touch his hand gently and he entwines his fingers with mine. His eyes close and he relaxes a little. "Promise that you won't let go of me."

It's a demand rather than a question. I nod, then remember he cannot see a thing and say, "I promise…"

Part 5

His face contorts with pain and his other hand holds his stomach. What if he's bleeding internally, what if only the outside of his skin is healing? "Jasper?"

"Hmm."

"I'm worried about you. If you're not better by…"

He moves our hands towards his mouth. "I can prove I'm alright. Let me pleasure you. I can promise you the best time you've ever had."

I roll my eyes at his presumption. "Very funny." Although it isn't, not only is he frightened and in considerable pain, his speech pattern and tone have changed. It's almost as if Jasper isn't quite the Jasper I first met anymore.

"I mean it, let me. It's been weeks since I've had that kind of fun."

"Whole weeks, huh. My heart's bleeding for you… "

His tongue licks seductively over my knuckles and between my fingers. Then his teeth graze me. My hands are not normally such an erogenous zone. Yet with his touch, I'm instantly on fire; which annoys me. "Stop that or I'm going."

"How can I convince you to change your mind?"

If his advert for himself is anything to go by, a night spent with him would be incredible. However, that is not guaranteed and besides it wouldn't be me he was with in his head, he's never 'seen me' in any definition of that phrase. "You can't. I don't have 'that kind of fun' with strangers." And even if I did, he is in no condition to make good on his promise.

He presses the gentlest of kisses to my hand. "But you don't feel like a stranger to me."

"You know what, you are a terrible liar." The crazy thing is that while we were sat on the sofa chatting together, I felt like I'd always known him. Now though, the reality of our situation has been reinforced.

"No one can accuse me of not trying," he murmurs to himself, and closes his eyes. Soon, his breath slows and becomes shallower. Pain seeps away from his face and his muscles relax making him look even more beautiful. With a sigh, I reach over with my other hand and turn off the bedside lamp. It will be a long night; I will have to call work tomorrow and take a day's holiday.