Crawl Away: Chapter 3

    Little Joe came to see me at my apartment two days before I left for Paris.  I wouldn't have minded the visit if he didn't lean on my buzzer at the three in the morning.  

    "You'd better have a hooker with you," I said when I opened the door for him.  

    He closed the door behind him and followed me into the living room.  

    "Don't look like you need one, you stud," he said when he saw Aya's lipstick stained wineglass on the end table.  "Aren't you going to wake the lady and introduce us?"

    "She went home a couple of hours ago," I said as I rummaged through the desk noisily to find my cigarettes. "And I wouldn't subject any of my dates to your company, yankee."    

     Joe wore a dark blue satin starters jacket with "New York" spelled out in the back.  He also had a matching blue baseball cap with embroidered "NY".  His usual futile attempt at Americanization.

    "Besides showing me your darling outfit," I said and tapped out a cigarette from the nearly empty pack.  "What the hell could you possibly want at this unholy hour?"

    I stuck the cigarette between my lips and lit it.  The first drag from it woke me instantly, but it left an indescribable bad taste in my mouth.  Suddenly, I had a craving for black coffee.

    "You wanted me to look for a perverted, rich man who's connected enough to get into the complex."

    "You found one?"

    "Rich perverted men? Plenty of those.  One that has a membership there for you to abuse? No."

    "You came all this way at this hour to tell me that?"

    He grinned the smile that I had been waiting for.

    "One of my...ehh...former clients decided to put his balls up to the chopping block and get you in with his credentials," he said.  "He owed me, and now you owe me yet another one.  Have you heard of Tsuki Kurokawa?"

    "Vaguely," I said.  "Wasn't he one of the Osaka yakuza heavies that used to be married to an idol singer?" 

    "And she ran off with one of his Swiss account numbers and one his gardeners," he said.  "Hence the favor. Divorce, the old fashion way."  

    He pulled out a passport with a blue cover from inside his jacket and held it out to me.

    "Who says chivalry's dead?" I said and walked to him.  "Kurokawa's an American?"

    I took the passport from him and sat down to look through it.  The United States passport had Kurokawa's name but with my picture and bio data.  

    "He has dual citizenship for those "just in case" kind of situations," he said and gave me a small gold metal card in a clear plastic sleeve.  "He wants this card back when you return."

    I read the name on the card and smiled.

    "Le Ambassade? You're fuckin' kidding."

    "Yeah, even the whores were offended."

    I took another drag out of the cigarette and rubbed it out in the ashtray that was already full of cigarette butts.  

    "Was it difficult to get into that place?"

    "Let's just say, it's easier if you are rich.  They do intensive investigations on the finances, going back at least five years.  The minimum to get their application's five million US dollars in the account.  Then there's the initial club fee of 50 million yen, and 35 million yen per annual renewal."

    "For that kind of money, the sex had better be just like in the porn movies."

    Joe grinned.

    "You'd think so," he said.  "Actually, if you are planning to fuck one of the hosts or hostesses, you have to book them by appointment and that's a separate fee.  Think of the place as kind of a very high-end geisha house.  You're paying for their company in an ultra posh resort.  The place's frequented by rich, fat bastards can't even get it up anymore and want a place to pretend they still can.  These beautiful men and women are paid to assure the last traces of manliness left in their limp dicks.  Or at least that's my impression of that place when I accompanied Kurokawa to their other location at some beach resort in Normandy.  Churchill would have been proud to see what became of the beach his boys crawled through."

    "Aoshi's not in the Normandy location."

    "I kind of wish he was," he said.  "Lots of skin.  Uniform of the day's smaller than a dishtowel.  No, he's still in Paris.  I asked Kurokawa to register through Normandy in case someone was paying attention and realize you are not him."

    "Ah, the man with the grand vision.  I am impressed," I said.  "Now that I can get in, how do I go about asking for Aoshi?"

    "Kurokawa'd paid for him already.  Your boy's really difficult to get a hold of.  He's confined on the top floor where, you should be proud to know, the highest grade of companionship's housed at.  He's rented out on nights and he’s kind of popular.  He's booked every night for the rest of the month.  I am not sure how much more money Kurokawa had to pay the booking agent to cancel out the previous appointment, but Kurokawa has a paid date with Aoshi this Saturday night.  And don't even think about trying to take Aoshi out of there, even if he wants to go with you.  Kanryu would put a contract out on Kurokawa and you know what I have to do to fix that..."

    "How much I would end up abusing Kurokawa's identity depends on what he's expecting from me..." I said.  "I hope the poor bastard knows how much money I make and how much I really hate being asked to do favors on the badge."

    "He's not asking for anything.  Don't cause a scene when you're there.  That means none of that badge flashing or slapping people around. Just remember you’re not back home while you’re there. He said he'd like to be able to use the facilities himself in the summer.  And if you don't try to look into Kurokawa's business, let's just say, you will never cross him."

    I nodded.  He stood up and straightened his jacket.  

    "I just hope you're not going there on any kind of expectation," he said.  "Quite frankly, I don't think Aoshi's going to live much longer... He's Kanryu's greatest weakness and it looks like Kanryu's coming around to accepting this.  Aoshi's death's not something you can prevent but it's better if you don't know about, when it does happen."

    "I'm neither a romantic nor an idealist, Joe," I said.  "I accept things as they are." 

   "For you, I think you cut realism too close to idealism," he said and shrugged.  "Or else you'd just Aoshi a favor and end his misery with a bullet instead of wandering over to Paris to see how he's doing."

    "Ah, maybe so..." I said and walked with him to the door.  "The great invisible divide between reality and what I would like to believe to be my reality is that I don't believe in love...and I never will."

    He patted my cheek and grinned.

    "So young and yet so skeptical.  And you're not even married yet," he said.  "You should stop hanging out at those dirty night clubs.  It disillusions you after awhile."

    "Exactly." 

   Little Joe sent one of his contacts to pick me up at the airport. This man was also Joe's height and size, but he was old enough to be my father. He was French but he spoke flawless Japanese. While he drove me toward the hotel he had booked for me, he told me how fortunate I was to grace the holy grounds of the millionaires' sex club.

    "I’m there to see one person. And I am not even sure he’ll gouge my eyes out for showing up here, never mind having sex."

    "Ah, yes…it’s…" he paused to think of a name. "Aoshi?"

    I nodded.

    "Do you know why he’s in a place like that?"

    "He had a fight with his adoptive father."

    He seemed to be wondering if my reply was serious, then decided not to pursue it.  Joe must've warned him about the perils of picking my brain.

    "What will you do when you see him?" He said and looked over to me. 

    "I don't know," I admitted. "He decides what becomes of himself, not me."

    "Then why are you here?  Very unusual for a man to come this far and not know what he's looking for."

    "I guess you can say I've reached somewhat of a temporary impasse. I'm fumbling in the dark trying to find the light switch that I know it's there, but it's a matter of feeling my way around until I find it.  Aoshi may not be the answer I am looking for, but he's part of it."  

    He didn't ask me any more questions. Instead, he started to talk about the worsened traffic condition that was caused by the recent rise in road tax.  My mind wandered off into nothingness by the time the old man was doing math and comparing results from the previous year's taxation. 

    We reached the hotel that was situated among a block of other hotels.  This hotel had a Japanese speaking staff and catered to Asian tourists by the looks of the aisle of Japanese, Korean and Chinese-text brochures on local excursions.

    "How long will you be here?" The old man asked after I signed in and waited for the counter person to fetch my room key.

    "I've booked my return flight for Monday. Don't take this personally but I really have no desire to be in Paris."

    "Joe did say you don't have much of a romantic side."

    I shrugged.  The counter person returned with my key and asked if I'd like help with my luggage.  I shook my head, picked up the carry-on and walked toward the elevator at the end of the lobby.  The old man walked with me.

    "Not so much that I don't have a romantic side.  The nature of business why I am here is not exactly luring out the best of me.  I'd like to leave this place before I'm tempted to do something that will not only hurt Joe's trust but maybe destroy my own integrity."

    We reached the elevator.  I pressed the button for the third floor.

    "What is he to you?"

    "I am not sure of that myself," I said.  "All I know is, he roused something I've never felt before in my life.  It bothered me.  More than it should have.  For the first time in my life as a cop, I've never felt so useless and helpless.  He suffered because of me, and he's here because of me.  Eventually, he will die and there's not a damn thing I can do.  That, I think, is the worst thing in the world....because he made me realize that my beliefs and my badge's irrelevant."

    "It's not irrelevant.  There were other.  You can't save every single one of them out there.  No one can."

    The elevator chimed and the doors opened.  The elevator was empty.  I stepped into it and stabbed the button for third floor.  

    "Maybe not." I said before the doors closed.   

    "But I want to save this one..."

    Le Ambassade was  a block away from La Conciergerie, Palais de Justice and Ste Chappelle.  Notre Dame was three blocks away.  Souvenir  shops, sidewalk cafes and restaurants closed the spaces between those attractions.  Le Ambassade easily blended in with the centuries-old architectures, except that the former 17th century palace was cordoned off by two layers of metal fences.  Half of the palace was hidden behind thick foliage.  For a facility that tried to blend into the tourist-like atmosphere, it didn't. The exterior fencing had elaborate French curves were painted in dark green and gold and it was about ten feet tall.  Fifteen feet behind the decorative fencing were the plain mesh-wire fences laced with motion detector wires and topped with razor tape wires. There was a camera set every 50 feet apart to cover all angles of the interior and exterior fence line.   It wasn't state of the art security, but it sent strong enough message to the would-be break-ins or break-outs.  

    I made my way to the front side as I studied the layout of the Ambassade.  At the main gate, there was a small box that read the membership cards mounted below the brass placard that identified the establishment.  I swiped the card through and the iron gate made an audible click.  I pushed the gate open and walked through toward the main entrance of the palace. 

    A very tall, expressionless man in a pale blue suit greeted me with a small noise that might have been a French pleasantry opened the door for me.  Then I felt as if I've stepped into a museum.  The palace kept its 17th century decor and by the looks of the paintings and furniture, they were probably genuine and worth more than what I will ever make in my lifetime.  A gorgeous young woman in a very tight, buttoned down blue suit greeted me, took my arm and led me to the check-in.  She helped me out of my coat and walked off to the cloak room with it.  A young man was directed to assist me as soon as I said I didn't speak French to the first clerk.        

    The young blonde man also wore a blue suit and his clothes were cut perfectly to fit his frame.  A gold name plate pinned over his right pocket said "Georges".  Georges requested for my passport and I gave it to him.  He confirmed Kurokawa's membership information and gave the passport back to me. 

    "You have an appointment with Aoshi," he said.  "He will be ready shortly." 

    I nodded.

    "How long will you be staying with us, Kurokawa-sama?"

    "'Until tomorrow morning."

    Georges gestured for someone to come and a young woman came toward us.

    "Evon will show you where you need to go to," he said.  

    "Do you know how much longer will Aoshi be in this place?"

    Georges glanced down at his computer, tapped some keys and looked up at me.

    "He is closed for schedules as of end of this month and I believe he's due to leave this establishment on the first of the next month."

    "Where to?"

    "I am not sure.  He's not being transferred, so that could mean he's returning to Tokyo."

    Evon came to us and Georges instructed her in French.  She nodded, looped her arms through mine and walked me through the lobby and toward the elevator.   

    I was studying one of the expensive antique paintings mounted over the fireplace when he came in. There was neither surprise nor shock in his face when we made eye contact. It was as if he had been expecting me.

    "Kurokawa-san," he said my borrowed name as he closed the door behind him. "I'm pleased to see you again."

    I nodded and sat down on the armchair by the fireplace.  I gestured a sign to ask him if we were watched or eavesdropped.  He shook his head.

    "They would lose too much money and clients if anything above the first floor has eyes and ears." he said.  "I don't think they'd expect any cop to make enough money to come here anyway."

    "Little do they know."  

    "Do you mind if I have a drink?" He asked as he gestured toward the bar in the corner.

    I shook my head.

    A mild déjà vu occurred to me then, as I watched him walk over to that bar. He was just as I remembered him-unusually beautiful and graceful. I was also recalling how drawn I was to him. Especially now. He wore a white silk robe cut mid-thigh high. I was happy I could see his legs, and I thrived in the small measure of happiness for a couple of minutes as he poured himself half a glass of Merlot.

    "So, what did you come for?" He finally said.

    "Answers." 

    It was actually a trying effort not to say "sex".

    He sat down on the armchair a few feet from me and took the first sip from the glass. 

    "You usually drink before you entertain your company?"

    He leaned back in his chair and carefully crossed his legs so the folds of the robe still covered his upper thighs.

    "It helps me slip into…" he paused to think of the proper word. "…required mood."

    "I take it my irresistible smile that should have made you rip off my clothes has successfully been resisted."

    He replied with a smile that made me want to rip off my own clothes, then his.

    "Maybe in a few more minutes, it'll kick in," he said. "What else are you looking for, Kurokawa-san?"

    "I think you know, sweetheart."

    He traced the rim of his wineglass with his fingertips. His eyes were bright and thoughtful. Almost playful. I already know our conversation would not be easy.

    "The nature of your job tends to want to complicate situations, Saitoh-san. You want complex explanations to simple things. Would it please you if I insert some kind of drama or mystery into the answers?"

    I shrugged.

    "I don't care how you choose to humor me, as long as what you tell me is sincere."

    He took another sip from the glass and waited for me to continue.

    "Why do you stay with Kanryu? I know you don't need him."

    He studied me for a few minutes, his fingertip circled the rim of the glass as he did so. I didn't mind the silence. I liked watching him.

    "No, I don't need or want to be with him," he said finally. "But then, it was never about what I need or want."

    I frowned.

    "I don't follow."

    "I didn't expect you to," he said and complimented his oblique answer with a similar smile. 

    "Are you afraid of him?" I suggested.

    "Of Kanryu? No. He will die someday," he replied. "He is, however, a living reminder of just what I really am."

    He took another sip of the red wine and placed the glass on the marble corner table near him. When he looked up at me again, he appeared to be changed. I had torn open some kind of wound that I knew was there, but didn't realize how deep the scar was until I stuck the knife in. I didn't think I could feel worse than what I felt that night after he left me in New Otani, but I did. I bitterly admitted to myself that I had made a mistake coming.

    "You don't have to tell me-" 

    He held up his hand to interrupt me.

    "Despite what the public records say, Kanryu did not adopt me. He purchased me from a black market when I was six. My mother sold me a few days before I turned four. To tell you the truth, I don't hate her for it. Nor have I ever wondered who she was, or who my father was, or why I was thrown away. I've always thought my fate had been…appropriate."

    "Why?" I said.  "You don't deserve this kind of life." 

    "What do you suppose I do? Run away?"

    "Yes."

    "I'm afraid some lives are not as simple as yours, Saitoh-san," he said. "I'd rather live with what you would consider pain rather than what I consider uncertainties."

    "Pain is definite. Uncertainties does not always promise you the worst."

    "Definite things also have an end. What I perceive as pain is a necessity. What you perceive as my pain is something I shouldn't want, simply because it's not something you want," he said. "Some of my needs would probably be something you think are ridiculous, but those things are what I have to have to survive."

    "And only the people who hurt you can give you that need?"

    He shrugged.

    "Maybe so," he said and picked up the wineglass again. "I think the pain would really come to me, if I stop feeling the hurt."

    He placed the glass back down on the table without taking a drink from it.

    "Even since the first time when I was raped, I never felt the filth of having another man inside me or even felt the guilt or hatred or whatever else I think I should have had. Because I've always known, they don't own me," he tapped at his temple. "And they will never get in there. Kanryu…he came close. I hope he will die or I will die before he succeed."

    "So was that mark between your thigh the sign of your latest struggles against him?"

    He smiled.

    "I'm impressed," he said. "You have a good informant."

    "I'm sure he will be pleased to hear you are impressed by him," I said. "So far, I actually understood your unique theory but it still doesn't answer the question I asked earlier. If anything, you have every reason to get away from Kanryu if he has physical ownership over you and he's close to getting inside you."

    "If I run away, then he will win. He has gotten inside of me, and even after he dies, he will live on. This," he said and lifted the fold of the robe covering his left thigh and revealed a corner of what looked like a blue butterfly wing. "..meant nothing to me. He punishes me because he can't kill me. How long do you think I will live if I left him, Saitoh-san?"

    I stopped staring at his thigh when he dropped the fold back over the blue wing. 

    "You don't think I am capable of protecting you?" 

    "I have no doubt you are capable, Saitoh-san. It's a matter of questioning your fundamental needs. I don't think you will ever need me, or anyone for that matter, to replace your greatest fundamental need--your badge."

    "If you lift your robe up again, maybe I'll reconsider."

    He laughed softly and uncrossed his legs to get up.

    "We can talk more later," he said and came to me. He bent slightly to kiss my mouth and I let him. He could have sliced my throat open with a straight razor then and I would have let him. 

    He slipped his hands under mine and grasped them lightly.

    "I'm sure Kurokawa-san paid a lot of money for you to be here," he whispered against my mouth. "It would be rude to disappoint him."

    "He would be furious…" I agreed and stood up. I slipped my arms around his waist, pressing him against me. I held him like that, in the dancers' embrace, but without motion and without music. 

    "Have you ever met Kurokawa?" I said, still holding him but I wanted to break the numbing silence.

    "No."

    "Did you expect me to come all this time?"

    "Yes."

    "Why couldn't you kill me?"

    "I won't kill cops," he said. "Don't read into it further than that."

    "So I didn't really save my own life by applying outstanding sexual techniques that night."

    "Try to impress me again tonight and I'll re-think my answer."

    I cupped his face and kissed him.  Life was perfect again, even if it was for one night. 

    He took my hand and led me to the bed. He knelt on the mattress and started to loosen my tie and undo the buttons for me.

    "I don't want you to do this if you remotely felt you had to do this." 

    "You don't think I will refuse you if I didn't want to be with you now?" He said as he brushed back the opened shirt and ran his hands over my bared chest then started to work on my belt. 

    "You wouldn't refuse me," I said. "I am too cute and charming." 

    "Touché."

    I pressed him back on the bed before he had the opportunity to lower the zipper on the pants. I refused to be naked before he was.

    He smiled and hooked his legs around my waist. He drew me in closer with his legs and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

   "When you’re tired of playing this absurd game with Kanryu someday…" I said and gave him a lingering kiss. "Find me."

   "Maybe," he said. "Maybe someday."

   "I want to see it…" I said and untied the sash around his waist.

   He unlaced his legs around me and kept them spread as I licked a gentle trail from his mouth, down his throat and chest and belly.  I lifted the thin silk away from his thighs and slid my fingers along the fresh tattoo.  He sighed and ran his fingers through my hair as I followed the dark outline of the unfurled blue and gold butterfly branded on the inner thigh with my fingertip. 

    "It's very beautiful," I said then traced the outline of it with the tip of my tongue.  His body quivered and he sighed out a small moan.  

    "Please..." he said and struggled to move out from under me.  

    I pressed him back down and kissed him.

    "Please what?"

    "Let me feel you."  

    I gathered both of his wrists in one of my hands and held it.  I slipped his robe sash off and bound his wrists firm enough to hold them together without leaving marks.  He didn't pull away or fight with me.  If anything, he appeared to be amused.

    "Didn't know you're into this kind of thing," he said.

    "Not really," I said and kissed his throat.  "But you seem to like making me spend myself sooner than I wanted to.  I'd like to enjoy you for a change."

    "How nice," he smiled.  It was a genuine remark, despite the plainness of the words.  

    "I am a giver," I admitted.

    He bit my lips gently.  

    "Then give it to me."

    And I did. 

    We woke a little before the day broke and although I wanted to go back to sleep, Aoshi insisted the bedding should be changed while we showered.

    "The day is mine until noon.  We will spend the rest of the morning in a clean bed," he said.

    "You'll have to have the sheets changed again at noon," I said.

    He smiled.

    "I would not expect anything less," he said.  

    He picked up the service phone and spoke to someone in French. 

    "You speak French?" 

    Master of observation.

    "And English and German.  I did interpretation details for Kanryu years ago.  One of the reasons why you saw me with him often."    

    "Can you talk dirty to me in those languages later?"    

    We showered and then stepped into a hot tub in the adjoining room.  He sat on my lap, his head resting against my chest.  There were slight noises of bedding being stripped and changed in the main bedroom by the maids.

    "And do we talk now?" I said and crossed my arms around his chest.

    "Talk about?"

    "You said we should continue our conversation later last night," I said.  "It's later."

    He put his hands over mine.  He was quiet for a minute.

    "I don't want you to save me," he said.  "I don't expect it from you and I don't expect it from anyone.  When Kanryu took me out of the market, I thought he had saved me...but he gave me another kind of sentence that's really no different from what I was destined for.  The difference is, I think my suffering's going to be longer before I am allowed to die."

    "I don't think it's fair for you to assume everyone's like Kanryu."

    He didn't say anything for a few seconds.

    "It doesn't matter," he said. "This life is not very important to me, I've come to accept that long time ago...and that acceptance was what kept me alive.  But I refuse to die if it means Kanryu wins."

    "But by the way you are pushing Kanryu, he will kill you someday."

    "If he kills me then I win," he said and stroked my arms slowly.  "He will not live much longer after I die, that I know.  But the point is, I've died with my mind in one piece.  I don't really care what he does to my body because this will be all he will get.  I will become a victim, as you think I already am, if I did succumb to what he does to me--and I don't think I will live much longer that way either.  I'd rather have Kanryu kill me then break me."

    I brushed back some of his hair and sighed.

    "What about if we compromise and say you give me a chance to do my job if you get away from Kanryu? The government will also offer you a lot of protection if you turn evidence against him."

    He laughed softly.

    "I don't think that's an option, Saitoh-san," he said.  "Kanryu's network will take more than just me to bring down.  I only know a fraction of his operation and besides--" 

    He turned around and kissed my mouth.

    "As much as I hate Kanryu and what he does, I will not turn against him that way."

    "How inconveniently noble of you."

    "It's not a matter of nobility.  It's just something I won't do."

    "Like killing me."

    "Like killing you," he said.  "Did you have the answers you came for, Saitoh-san?"

    "No," I admitted and brushed some errand strands of wet hair from his eyes.  "I still don't understand any of it."

    He lowered his eyes and sighed.  He leaned forward to rest his head on my shoulder.

    "I don't think you will.  Not now anyway.  I promise all of this will make sense to you soon.  There are things I can't run away from.  I'm sure there are many things you can't run away from because the further you try to distance yourself from it, the closer it'll get." 

    "Yes..." I said.  Like you.... 

    Three weeks after I returned from Paris, I didn't come any closer to a conclusion as to what I wanted to do with Kanryu’s case. I did decide I didn't want to be near Kanryu's case for a while. When I made the plea to the chief, he only stared at me with his usual beady little eyes and asked for justifications.

    "I didn’t ask to be re-assigned the case," I said. "I just want to be away from it for a while. I didn't make much progress on it since I inherited it, and frankly, I don't think I will make any more progress on it until Kanyru's lawyers make a mistake. Either you give me something I can solve or at least be active in for a change, or I will just take a demotion and go back on the road."

    "I see," he said and looked back down on his paperwork. For a few seconds, I thought he was contemplating his decision in his silence until he started to mark the papers with his pen.  I cursed at him in my mind and decided to leave before the words would accidentally make its way out of my mouth later.    

    "Hey," the chief finally called out when I turned and started toward the door. "Supervise the Vice in Shinjuku sector for a few weeks. They are starting on the gambling ops again."

    I wanted to thank him but since he already owed me an apology for ignoring me earlier, I left without saying a word and called it even.  

    When I stepped out, one of the office ladies handed me a phone message from Little Joe.  He had left word he wanted to meet with me as soon as possible, but I didn't want to see him.  The sound of his name instantly gave me an ominous feeling and I didn't want to deal with any more uncertainty than I already had.  I sat at my desk for awhile, lost in my own world and remembered Aoshi and the meaning of his words and what Joe would probably tell me.  

    I called Joe before I left work, just to let him know I couldn't meet with him.  There was a brief silence from his end of the phone and I pictured him shaking his head as he bit his lower lip--which he did whenever he was at a loss for words.  

    "Don't tell me anything..." I said, and cut into his silence.  "Not now.  I've removed myself from Kanryu's case indefinitely anyway."

    "It's not like you to do something like that."

    "It's even less like me to make mistakes when I am frustrated by dead-ended progress, and being involved with a person that I have no business being involved with."

    "As long as you recognize your shortcomings, at least you can predict them," Joe said.  He had chosen his words carefully.

    "Something like that."

    I could hear an audible sigh from his end of the phone.

    "Just let me know when," he said finally and hung up.  

    When I left work, it started to drizzle.  Minutes after I got home, the drizzle became a steady shower.  I've always been fond of the rain and my mood had lightened considerably when the apartment was filled with gentle tapping sounds of downpour.  I watched the rain and people rushing to dodge the rain outside while I smoked. By the time I had chain-smoked half of the pack, I was tired. I showered and slept my first real sleep since my trip to Paris that night.  

   I woke to the sharp, intrusive sound of my apartment buzzer.  I cursed and looked at the clock.  It was only 10 to midnight.  I was not sure if it was an instinctive thing or if I was still in a mild rage when I pulled the gun out of the holster and went to the living room to answer the intercom. 

    I took a deep breath, cursed again and answered the intercom.

    "Yes?"

    A couple of seconds of silence passed.  I could hear the rain and wind in the background of the person who was not replying.

    "It's me..." a small voice said finally.  "Saitoh."

    The voice sounded familiar to me, but I could not place it.  Even before I could name that person, I pressed the access button for the person and told him, "come on up."

    While the person was making his way toward my apartment, I walked to the window and looked for hints of who this visitor was.  There was no one and no vehicle along the well-lit street.  I walked back to the front door to meet this person and watched for him through the peep-hole.  I clicked off safety on the gun and racked a bullet into the chamber.  When I saw who it was that came around the hall corner, I lowered the gun and held it against the small of my back as I opened the door for him.  

    "Aoshi..."

    He was wearing a black hoodless raincoat that had been soaked thoroughly.  The drenched material clung onto his body, outlining a dress shirt and pants he wore beneath. I didn’t see any outline of a weapon.  I gestured him into the apartment and I locked the door when he stepped in.  I clicked the safety back on the gun and went into the bathroom to get him a towel and my bathrobe.  

    Aoshi remained by the door, a pool of water had collected by his feet.  He was pale from the cold, and his pallid face accentuated his green eyes profoundly. There weren't any expressions on his face.  He looked like he had been walking in the rain for hours.  

    "You all right?"

    He didn't say anything and didn't move.

   I walked up to him and peeled the drenched raincoat from him.  He didn't seem to care, as I continued to strip the wet clothing from him, and dropped them on the linoleum floor in the kitchen.  He was very cold, and he didn't seem to be any warmer even after I put him in the thick cotton robe and dried off his hair.  

    "Sit down," I said and gestured for him to take a seat in the living room.  He moved slowly, but at least he had responded. He sat in my favorite sofa next to the window and watched at the rainstorm quietly.   I took his wet clothing and threw them into the dryer, then went into the kitchen to pour him half a glass of whiskey.

    "Drink this," I said and pressed the whiskey into his hands.  He looked down at it and up at me.

    "I don't like whiskey," he said. His voice was fragile and broken--almost like a hurt little boy.

    "It'll warm you up fast."

    He took a small sip and frowned then put the glass down to distance himself from it.

    I sat down in the sofa next to him.  

    "It's an acquired taste," I said.  "But it will prevent you from getting deathly sick later."

    He got up and moved to sit on my lap.  He was cold and trembling, but I didn't mind.  He curled his body on my lap and pressed his head against my chest.  I held him as close to me as possible.  We didn't move for awhile, nor said anything. The only thing that on my mind was that he came to me, and nothing else mattered.

    "You are not going to ask why I'm here?" He said after a long while.

    "No."

    "That's good," he said and kissed me.  

    We were quiet again. 

    "Are you still cold?" I asked and stroked his damp hair.  He felt warmer, but he was still quivering a little.

    "Yes," he said and looked up at me. He had regained most of the color back to in his face. He reached up and traced my lower lip with his fingertip.

    "Will you make love to me?" He said softly.

    "Only if you’ve come here to ask me that on your own terms, not someone else’s."

    He nodded.

    "I want to be here…" he said.

    "Ask me again," I said. 

    He did.

    I swept him up in my arms as I stood up.

    "Thank you…" he said in a small voice as he wrapped his arms around my neck.

    "Don’t say that," I said as I carried him toward the bedroom. "I’m not doing you a favor."

    He smiled a slight smile and gave me a small kiss.

    I didn't remember much of the night in detail except for the sensations that surpassed sensuality or even what I think I know as love or lust. He felt different to me that night, in the sense that he'd become something of a personal object.  That was the first time I felt I owned someone completely, and that person allowed me to have him in that way. I wondered this could have been what it was like for Kanryu and what kind of madness that must have come with losing something this personal.   

    I came inside him and marked him mine with my essence.  It didn't matter to me who would have him later.  He would carry my scent inside him, and carry my mark on his thigh, for as long as he lived. I dismissed the notion that I had become another one of the men in Aoshi’s life—the ones that didn’t want him to be anything more than a thing to be possessed. Even if I was one of those men, I didn’t care. All it mattered now is that I had him.  

    I held him against me as I started to fall asleep.  I was not sure if I had dreamt it or actually seen it, but I thought I saw Aoshi cry.  There was a trail of tears that had rolled down on the side of his cheek.  I wanted to reach out to touch it, to know if the tear was real.  But my last thought was admiring how beautiful the silver droplets were, as they caught the scarce light that was in the room.  I allowed Aoshi to cry.  He needed to.

    I woke next morning with a start.  At first I was confused.  The rumpled sheets and my equally disheveled memories reminded me that I had been with someone the night before.  Then Aoshi's name came to me, as I searched the apartment for any sign of him.  The only evidence of him from what I could remember was the unfinished glass of whiskey on the end table.  The front door's bolt lock was undone although he did lock the door behind him.  Then I became more confused.  I didn't understand why he had come to me then left again.  I picked up the glass of the unfinished whiskey to return it to the kitchen when the realization struck me.  Suddenly, I understood everything.  

    I became furious. I cursed and threw the glass into the sink.  The broken shards and the drink spilled out of the sink and onto the counter and floor.  Some of the pieces flew by and nearly cut me.  

   "God damn it, Aoshi... What the fuck are you doing to me?"