Crawl Away: Chapter 10

    "My theory is, the more beautiful, smart and rich they become, the more taste they lose in men," Joe said as he sank into the sofa in my office.  

    "Then by your theory, likes of Aoshi and Kyrie would be breaking into your apartment at night trying to have their way with you."

    He sighed.  "You would think so.   What do they see in an incorrigible bastard like you?"

    I lit up a cigarette and tossed the still-lit match into the glass ashtray.  

    "Jealousy is such an ugly thing," I said.

    "Aoshi, I can sort of understand.  Kyrie, however--"  A smile spread over his face.

    "What about him?" 

    "Only if daddy knew what he's doing now," Joe said.  "He's the only child of  a member of the British Parliament, more precisely, a member of the House of Lords.  Kyrie studied in Oxford for a couple of years, majored in law and political science.  According to the school records, he did well and rarely missed classes.  In other words, he wasn't the partying type.  In the third year, something happened between him and the father over the summer that resulted with Kyrie dropping out of the University and leaving England.  The most daddy can do was send out detectives to track and hopefully locate him, then drag him back to England before the newspapers start to broadcast the embarrassing detail.  That was about a year ago."

    "I take it Kyrie had never been found."

    "Oh, he's been found.  Often.  Kyrie's just been very fortunate to have been with very wealthy and powerful company who had the means to whisk him away into safety whenever he's found."

    "And he ended up with Kiros..." I said.  I spun the glass ashtray with my fingers.

    "Just a flavor of the month," he said.  "Kyrie had been with men a lot more dangerous and a lot more powerful, politically and not-so-politically, than Kiros."

    "You found out how they met?"

    Joe shrugged.  "Just a damn bastard's undeserved luck, I suppose.  From the pattern Kyrie made with the men he's been with--all seemed like some kind of game to him.  He was paid well for his company but he didn't set the price.  By this I mean the men naturally were generous with him and provided him with expensive gifts and limitless credit cards, but he didn't take or use beyond what he needed."

    "So he gave the illusion of being a gold digger but he really isn't."

    "Something like that," Joe said and grinned.  "I like that.  It means I have a chance."

    "He might not be discriminating when it comes to money, but he does have standards."

    He waved his hand dismissively at me.  "You lucked out that day, pal.  Anyone would look for any other company if Kiros' all one's forced to have for two months.  Anyway, how do you see him tied into Takeda's fortune and the killings?"

    "I don't," I said and rubbed out the cigarette into the ashtray.  "He seemed to know enough to facilitate the last phases of someone's plan, but I doubt he knew everything."

    "Who do you think you'd meet on Friday?"

    I tapped out another cigarette from the pack and lit it.  "Okita's new adversary who has a lot to explaining to do."

    I arrived at the Keio plaza half an hour earlier than the appointed time.  It was a rarity for me to be on time, and even rarer for me to be early.  I thought about that day all week, and had driven myself half mad with speculation.  Okita had initially insisted on coming with me, but then he backed off, saying that moment when I meet that mysterious master mind belonged to me alone.  It does.  And with it, every unresolved feeling, every emptiness in me, every bit of uncertainty I had accrued over the past year will dissolve with the moment.  I was already in a state of a mild euphoria when I stepped into the private elevator that will take me directly to the top floor.

    When the elevator door opened, Kyrie was the first person I saw.  He had been talking to two men in dark suits whom he sent away with a wave of his hand when he saw me.  He smiled and came to me as I stepped into the hall.  

    "You are early," he said and wound his arms around me.  He kissed me on my mouth and added, "I'm glad."

    "How so?"

    He took my hand and led me into a living room and asked me to sit down.  I took a seat in one of the uncomfortable, but elegant looking Victorian antique sofas.  

    "What would you like to drink?" he said and brushed a couple of strands of the usual stray hairs from my eyes.  

    "You don't happen to have Dutch coffee here, do you?"

    "How about something very close to it," he said and kissed my mouth as he moved to sit on my lap.  

    "What would your daddy say if he knew what his little boy is up to," I said.  

    He laughed softly and wrapped his arms loosely around my neck.  "You've checked up on me," he said.  "Find anything interesting?"

    "No more interesting than what I already know first hand that night," I said.  "Who am I here to see?"

    He ran his finger tip along my lower lip.  "He will be here soon."

    "Was it a mistake to leave my gun at home?"

    "He wouldn't hurt you," he said.  "And I wouldn't let him hurt you, if he tried."

    "That's good to hear," I said.  I seized his hands when he tried to undo my belt.  "But it would be awfully embarrassing for me to meet whoever this man is, with a raging erection."

    "Actually, he might be pleased."

    "I'll let your hands go, but promise me you won't undress me."    

    He nodded.  I loosened my grip on his wrists and instead, he started to undo the buttons on his own shirt.  He had undone half of his shirt when a familiar voice said Kyrie's name.  

    "That's enough," he said.  I didn't have to turn my head to know that was Von Erich.

    "I thought you didn't know Von Erich," I said, and patted his thighs.

    Kyrie kissed me lightly on my mouth.  "I told you a couple of white lies," he said.  He leaned in closer and whispered into my ear, "If you like, you can punish me for them later."

    "Kyrie--" Von Erich's voice raised a couple of octaves.  He didn't sound angry.  More like, impatient and annoyed.

    Kyrie got up and off my lap.  I stood and looked over to Von Erich.  There's no expression on his face.

    "Long time," I said and nodded at him.  "I'm quite impressed with your marksmanship."

    He said nothing for a few moments.  He looked as if he was trying to decide what to say.  Then in a calm voice, he told Kyrie to take me to the main hall and warned him not to be too frisky before he left the room.  Kyrie finished buttoning up his shirt and checked himself in the mirror behind the bar.

    "Ian's a good man," Kyrie said and looped his right arm through my left.  "But he has my father's sensibilities."

    He walked me out of the room and through the halls.  

    "Like a prudish big brother you never had?" I suggested.

    "Something like that."      

    I couldn't restrain the smile when I entered the room.  He returned my curt smile and gestured for me to be seated across from him.  Kyrie released my arm and went to him.  

    "Aoshi..." I said.  It was odd to say his name again, to him.  It does have a satisfying twinge, however.

    Aoshi gave Kyrie a small kiss on his cheek and they spoke in a dialect that I couldn't immediately place.  They looked dangerously attractive together.  Aoshi, the stark beauty with startling elegant features and Kyrie, the pale prince with soft seductive curves.  

    "You look a little uncomfortable, Saitoh-san," Aoshi said.  His voice was as I remembered it, perfume and silk.  

    "Not at all.  I've just had a fleeting fantasy involving three of us and a very thick, comfortable rug in front of a fire place."

    They looked at each other and broke out in a peal of laughter.  From the corner of my eye, I saw Von Erich shuffle his feet.  He was probably ready to jump on me as soon as Aoshi gave him the signal to do so.  Aoshi didn't.  

    "A charming thought," Aoshi said.  "You haven't changed a bit."  

    "Either have you," I said.  "Well, I am sure the blonde wig was just something you were just experimenting with."

    Aoshi's smile remained.  Kyrie came to me and gave me a kiss on my cheek, then left the room with the security detail.  Aoshi spoke to Von Erich in German and Von Erich nodded, gave me one last stern look and left.  

    "He was your shooter, wasn't he?" I said as soon as the door closed.

    He shrugged and got up to walk to the wet bar.  He wore a white shirt with high French collars and a pair of leather pants that accentuated his lean figure well.  He looked good.  In fact, he looked good enough for me to forgive him for everything he had done right then.

    "He protected me," he said and picked up a crystal decanter that was half full with red wine.  

    "He killed a lot of people to secure your inheritance," I said.  "It wouldn't have been necessary.  You were the only one named in the will and you were also the only one legally adopted by Kanryu."

    "It was necessary, Saitoh-san," he said and selected a wine flute from glass cabinet.  He poured the wine as he continued to speak.  "You really didn't think these people who had half of Kanryu's bloodline wouldn't think to have me murdered? Kanryu's empire's worth close to one billion American dollars."

   "And now, it's all yours," I said.  "And I am one of the assholes who helped you.  Those nights, I guess I was the one getting fucked, but I didn't realize it."

   He took a small sip of the wine and walked back to the chair.

   "It's not about the money, Saitoh," he said and sat down.  "I am not that offensive.  What I wanted was the freedom the money bought me."

   "I don't think that was what you did it for," I said.

    He was quiet for awhile.  Slightest trace of sadness came over him, but he quickly hid it and took a drink from the glass.  

   "Did you know what was in the will, Saitoh?" He asked.  

   "Only  that you were the sole heir to Kanryu's holdings." 

   "There were..." he paused and took a sip from the glass and placed it down on the glass end table behind him.  "...some changes Ishimaru made on my behalf.  I was property, Saitoh.  It doesn't matter what the adoption papers said.  I was suppose to be killed and buried with him, in event of his death.  The estates would have gone to any of his bastard children who can prove their lineage.  Kanryu didn't make much plans on who took over his network, but he made detailed plans of how I will die with him.  The bastard even picked out the clothes I would be buried in.  The idea of death didn't frighten me.  The fact that he made sure he got me even after his death, did."

   "After Kanryu died, if you truly wanted your freedom, you could have run away from all of this with Ishimaru's help with the legal revision.  Who was the poor soul who had to die in your place?"

    "An unfortunate, anonymous volunteer whose family was taken care," He said, his finger traced the rim of his wine glass carefully.  "I could have run away just as easily as you could have run away from this case, Saitoh-san.  If you truly understood your own motives why you had willed yourself to identify the body in the morgue when no one else did, or had spent months on a murder case that was not yours--then you would understand why I did what I did."

    "The difference was, no one died for my motives." 

    He waved his hand dismissively.  "Deaths are chances we all take in this world.  I will make no apologies about it."

    "I didn't think you would," I said.  "Why do you have to kill your double in that way? Was it for me?"

    His green eyes lit up.  "Nearly everything was set up for you, Saitoh-san.  You didn't think I would insult your intelligence and take the fun out of your chase by making it easy for you? The stripping of the skin in the back was more of a convenience than a point.  It would take too long to recreate the picture and from the wider pool of samples, you might just notice the ink was on the first layer of the skin.  I left the butterfly for you though."

    "...to keep me interested in the case..." 

    My throat went dry and I found myself a little more than surprised at the indifferent tone from Aoshi's voice.  He spoke about the killing as if he was talking about a piece of clothing he had recently discarded.  

    "You didn't need me," I said.  "Evidently, you had Ishimaru that can cut the legal paperwork exactly the way you wanted and you had money and manpower at your disposal even before Kanryu died."

    "Not you in particular," he finally said.  "If it wasn't you, it would have been another cop."

    I was quiet for awhile, and thought over what he had said.  When I realized why he had needed a cop, I had reached another level of admiration for him.  

    "You've planned this for years, haven't you?" I said.  "You chose a cop, or rather a cop with good intentions, to be the catalyst to your plan on setting all of this in motion."

    He lifted his glass to me and gave me a toast then took a drink.  "If I had learned anything from Kanryu, it's money and loyalty bred liability.  Good intentions, as you call it, are predicable and controllable once it is recognized for what it is.  I took a chance with Ian, but even as close as he was, he also didn't know the entire ramification of his role until Kanryu died."

    "And you acquired exactly what you want out of my good intentions," I said and got up to walk to the bar.  "It does not explain why you have to kill Kanryu's bastard children.  You are familiar with the business and you have a lot of resources at your disposal.  There's no one on that list that would have been more than just another irritating pile of paperwork for Ishimaru to deal with."

    "Someday, if you can begin to feel a fraction of the pain I live with every single day, then you would understand why I did what I did," he said evenly.  Then he shook his head. "I don't suppose  you will ever know what it's like.  You've always had your own freedom.  You know what it's like to make your own choices."

   "You didn't have to manipulate me to help you," I replied and poured myself a glass of whiskey on ice.  

   "But I did," he said.  "Are you capable of loving me, Saitoh? Love me enough to throw away everything you have?"

   I didn't have an answer. 

   "Ian, he did.  It's unfortunate that I will never love him."

   Both of us went silent for a few moments, immersed in our own thoughts.  I leaned against the bar and drank the whiskey there.  I didn't want to look at him then.    

    "I could have loved you," he said.

    My chest tightened.  It bothered me that he said those words.

    "Could have," I said.  "And you're afraid that I can't love you or will never love you."

    He didn't say anything and looked down at his glass.

    "No," he said.  "I don't know how."

    "You cried that night," I said.  

    He looked over to me and frowned.

    "What?"

    "You cried that rainy night after we...made love," I said. I had to pause to make sure I didn't say "fucked".  "Why did you?"

    He placed his wine glass on the floor and got up, walked to me and stopped an arm's reach from me.  I could smell the light sweet scent that's distinctly his.  He reached out and cupped my face.  I took his hands and held them by his wrists.

    "Maybe you realized that you did know how to love someone?" I said.

    He smiled softly.  I kissed the palms of his hands in turn and drew him to me.  The delicious scent of him was starting to intoxicate me and all I want to do at this point was hold him and savor the taste of him.  He stared at me and appeared to be mildly amused, as if he knew what was going through my mind.

    "No, that wasn't it," he said.  "I cried because I realized then I will never be capable of it."

    "My skillful ministrations had been made in vain."

    He ignored me.  His index finger drew small circles on the knot of my tie.

    "After Kanryu took me out of the market, he was, for awhile, a good father.  He educated me and he loved me.  He made me realize that it didn't matter if my own parents didn't want me.  He did and that was all it mattered.  I loved him then, because he made me feel safe and protected me from the ugly world I had emerged from."

    "He was an evil man who played with a young boy at his most vulnerable stage."

    He laughed softly and curled the tongue of my tie between his fingers.  My hands moved from his waist to his hips.

    "Maybe so, but he did take me out of the wretched human market," he said.  "I didn't hate him then.  I loved him although I've always known about the capacity of his cruelty and his twisted lusts and sadism.  I didn't care.  All it mattered to me that he loved me, and all he asked from me was if I loved only him, he would never hurt me or abandon me."

    He kept his eyes on the tie and continue to wrap and unwrap it around his fingers.  He was distracting himself to recall what he needed to tell me, but nothing more.  A twinge of pain had already surfaced in his eyes and he seemed to be trying to phrase what he would say next. 

    "Then he fucked you," I said it for him.  When I said "fucked", he flinched a little.

    "It happened quite...ordinarily.  As if we had been lovers for years.  He came to my room and kissed me, but it was not the kind of kiss he used to give me.  He told me he loved me as he took off my clothes and I started to cry.  I didn't fight with him and I didn't protest.  I just sat there and cried.  Maybe because I knew that day would come."

    "How old were you?" I asked.  

    "Thirteen," he said.  "He molested me for the first few months and started to rape me when I was 14."

    "How considerate of him."

    He shrugged.  "Doesn't matter.  By the time he was fucking me, I had learned to numb myself and that protected my sanity."

    "Or what you think of as sanity."

    "Let's not get into that again," he said.  He hooked a finger into my tie knot and loosened it.  He pulled the tie lose and slid it from my neck and discarded it on the floor.  Gingerly, he unbuttoned the top three buttons of my shirt and to my disappointment, he stopped.  It could be that he didn't want to seduce me after all.  He just didn't like my tie.

    "So your life thereafter has been a painful tug-of-war over the numbed, yet unsoiled, soul of yours."

    "When you put it like that, it sounds stupid."

    I smiled. 

    "Are you angry with me?" He asked.

    "Do you care if I was?"

    "No," he said.  "I expected it.  You've been very...civil so far.  I am a little worried."

    "Did you want me to show my anger and get it over with?"

    "So you are angry with me," he said. 

    "I am piqued but not at you," I said.  "Mostly at myself for playing into your hands.  At the same time, I don't really care because I didn't lose anything."

   "You lost partial use of your left hand."

   "A small price to pay for trying to jump on the high horse."

   He looked irritated.  I had a feeling the conversation was becoming one of those you have when it doesn't matter if you are right, you won't be. 

   "Good," he said finally.  He tried to push me away but I held him.

   "I would like to express my anger in a different way," I said and kissed him.  He was a little confused at first, but he responded eventually.  He wrapped his arms around my neck and gave into the kiss completely.  When we broke the long kiss, we were both a little out of breath.

   "By all means, hold nothing back...." he whispered.

   "What does all of this mean to you," I said as I unbuttoned his shirt.  "Just physical sensations and nothing else?"

   "Sometimes," he said.  "And sometimes, it's the illusion that I am loved that pleasured me."   

   "Illusions could be good," I said and kissed his mouth again.  "Although it cheapens sincerity..."

    "Often, it's very difficult for me to tell what is sincere from men like you," he said and pushed me against the bar.  The ledge dug painfully into my back.

    "Bring Kyrie in here and we can sort out sincerity together on the floor."

    He laughed.  "You like him?  He is rather pretty."

    "He lacked the refined experience you have,  but he has much potential," I said and undid the buttons on his pants. 

    I slipped my hands into his fitted leather pants and caressed his hips.  He sighed and pressed against me.  I pushed the pants down past the hips.  He did the rest of the work, and wiggled out of the leather.  

    "He has years of catching up to do," I said as he stepped out of the pants.  I lifted him up and sat him on the counter.  He winced at the cold marble that embraced his naked rear end and it made me grin.

    "Sorry," I said and ran my hands along his thighs.  "I'll try to warm you up really quick."

    I spread his thighs apart and kissed the tattoo there.  My tattoo.  He reclined back and rested on his elbows.  He breathed out a moan.

    "Very nice..." he whispered and lied back.  "I do miss the way you kiss me."

    I dipped my index and middle fingers into the whiskey and pressed it into him.  He tensed reflexively and his chest arched up.  I moved my fingers in circles, and worked it up to my knuckles.  He moaned and raised his legs up further for me.  I licked and nipped at the picture of the butterfly then made my way up to his belly.  He spread his shirt open and I found myself staring speechlessly at the scars on his chest.  There were three thick, pale scars that had been slashed into his smooth skin.  Several hairline scars scattered along his belly and his rib cage.  These were the wounds that were hidden beneath the gauze the day I had come for him nearly a year ago.  The wounds that Kanryu had cut into him when he had refused to kill me the second time. 

    "They are hideous, aren't they?"  He said softly and ran his fingers through my hair.

    I kissed his mouth.  "Not at all.  They look rather beautiful on you."

    He returned my kiss and sat up.  "Let me see..." he said as he stripped off my jacket and unbuttoned my shirt.  He looked curious as his fingertips traced the surgical scars and the small dimple where the bullet had gone in on my left shoulder.  He leaned forward and kissed the scars.

    "Now you have something to remember me by," he said with a slight smile and wound his legs around me.

    "And now, you can have something else to remember me by," I said and fished out the ice cube from the whiskey tumbler.  I traced the shape of his lips with the ice.  The tip of his tongue curled around the cube and drew it into his mouth.  He slid off the counter and knelt down.  His fingers worked quickly to unbuckle my belt and lower the zipper.  I cursed out loud when his mouth took in my cock.  The ice speared through my shaft, heating and numbing the nerves at the same time.  

    "It's always exciting to see you, Aoshi," I said in between breath.  He raked his teeth over over the shaft, then pressed the remains of the ice against the tip.  Drops of water dripped from the corners of his mouth, ran from his chin, down to his chest and it made him look wicked.  I pulled out of his mouth just short of coming.

    "I didn't think you could improve on your oral skills, but you have," I said and helped him up to his feet.

    "Thank you, I think," he said and swallowed the sliver of ice.  He laced his arms around my waist and leaned against me.  I wanted to throw him down on the floor and ravish him then, but I decided to be a little dignified and held him.

    "I hope we are not finished," I said.  

    He didn't move for a few seconds.  "Could you have loved me?"

    "That's not a fair question to ask a man with an erection, darling."

    He looked up at me.  He was sincere.

    "How about if I give you the answer after I have my way you?" I offered.

    A small smile brooked over his lovely mouth and he gathered himself closer to me.

    "Only if you would fuck me so hard that I'll still feel it next week," he whispered silkily.  

    I picked him up and carried him to the living room.

    "And the week after that," I said and dropped him on the sofa.

    He opened his arms and invited me into them.  "I would not expect anything less."

~ Narcissus  060102

Author's Note: I didn't write out the full "confession" if you will, from Aoshi simply because it would sound too clichéd to do so.  Saitoh would have figured out almost all of the details as soon as he met Aoshi again anyway.  And Aoshi knew Saitoh had figured out everything, being a seasoned detective.  When I wrote Crawl Away from part 2 on, I had already written the ending.  So each detail that came about, however insignificant, fit into Aoshi's planning.   By the way, this is not the ending to this particular series.  I ended Crawl Away at this part simply because the murder's been solved. Another story, "Within", will be the final installment to the series and the readers will learn whether or not Saitoh and Aoshi came together after all. 

I wish I didn't have to end Crawl Away this soon.^^ I am rather fond of Saitoh's sexist, sarcastic voice and of course, a new character Kyrie's sexually playful voice.  A thanks goes out to the folks who nagged me into finishing this series.  And a special thanks goes to Jessica who painstakingly translated them all for a very receptive Chinese-reader audience.