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Love Water (Yaoi Novel)

Page 12

by Venio Tachibana


  For the first time, her face had a touch of warmth in it.

  “You need to forget about me.”

  Misao was trying to look small and quiet, but when Ukigumo gave Masaomi this unexpected notice of separation, a cry escaped him nevertheless. He looked at Masaomi, wondering how he would take it, but he didn’t seem particularly upset. He just sighed gently and quietly lowered his eyes.

  “You won’t change your mind?” Masaomi asked, looking up at her, but Ukigumo only shook her head, her long lashes never fluttering.

  “As I told you initially, I am not interested in accepting pity.”

  Finally, Misao lost the thread of the conversation.

  He had no idea what they were talking about. The conversation was not developing at all as it should for a man and woman who obviously loved each other.

  “I, Ukigumobut no, you knew me as KotokoI loved you when were we children. And because I loved you, I know very well that you never loved me.”

  Ukigumo’s story, which she told with slightly narrowed eyes, staggered Misao’s heart.

  Images flickered into his blank mind one after another, and everything fell into place.

  A gasp escaped his lips, which had opened without his realizing it.

  “I’m sorry, Kotoko,” Masaomi apologized. “I’ve been extremely inconsiderate to you.”

  “Yes. I am humiliated.”

  Ukigumo spoke harshly.

  “I am, in some ways, the best there is at the Oumi Tea House. It would dishonor my name to be paid out of sympathy by a man who will not share my bed.”

  Ukigumo held her long neck straight. Her decisive tone showed her inner strength.

  “Having dedicated my body to the pursuit of sensuality and love, I will leave here having conquered the great gates by love. But you are not the one to help me do that, Masaomi.”

  “Is there someone who can?”

  Ukigumo answered Masaomi’s question with a sorrowful movement of her eyelids and a mysterious smile. Then she turned her inscrutable expression on Misao.

  “Forgive me.”

  Ukigumo inclined her head slowly to him, and Misao shook his head, uncomprehending. His shoulders were incredibly tense.

  “I thought I would surely win Masaomi’s heart this time, but I attempted many unflattering frivolities.”

  She was referring to feeding her guest stories.

  That was perhaps the reason Masaomi had gotten the idea that Misao was a prostitute, but there was no way Misao could blame Ukigumo for it at this point. In fact, her apology only made Misao feel guilty.

  Misao said nothing, but Ukigumo’s smile seemed to say that she had understood it all. She looked back at Masaomi.

  “As I said earlier,” she murmured in an almost lyrical voice, “You were the only one I cared for. That is all that need be said. The power of those words will stay with anyone who has been in love.”

  As she concluded tranquilly, Ukigumo touched three fingers to the floor before her knees and bowed. Masaomi’s melancholy gaze rested on her upswept hair.

  “As regards our earlier discussion, I’m afraid that I must refuse.”

  Ukigumo lifted her head, utterly undisturbed, and Masaomi quirked a smile. “I wish you the best.”

  This brief hope brought a look of girlish happiness to Ukigumo’s face that Misao had never seen. Tiny white teeth peeked out from her lips.

  After Ukigumo had left, the screen doors glowed almost blue in the moonlight after a rain.

  Masaomi gazed at the pale light, his face fragile with the distant thoughts running through his mind. His mind must have been filled with thoughts of Ukigumo.

  This was their goodbye.

  Misao quietly stood up, causing Masaomi to turn his head slightly and focus his eyes vaguely on him.

  “Where are you going?”

  Masaomi looked up at him, trying to hold him back, and Misao smiled faintly.

  “To sit beside you,” he murmured, and sat down.

  He laid a gentle hand on the man’s cheek.

  “You’ve been rejected, haven’t you?” Misao asked kindly.

  Masaomi smiled ruefully and lowered his eyes. “Apparently.”

  His head hung down slightly as he agreed, so Misao had to bend forward a little to lend him his shoulder. Masaomi’s forehead sunk into his right shoulder and Misao rested his temple against Masaomi’s head.

  He felt there was no need to speak, but Masaomi broke the silence, speaking quietly into his shoulder, so Misao listened.

  Ukigumo had been the daughter of a famous family of former nobility in Nara, the Kadokuras. The Towa family and Kadokura family were friends, and Masaomi had thought of Ukigumo as a little sister. But the Kadokura family had fallen.

  “After that, no one heard from any of them. They all disappeared, except for one who I finally located: Kotoko.”

  Misao finally understood how Masaomi must have felt when he heard the story of Misao’s past in the rickshaw to Dotonbori.

  He had been unable to interrupt. Because he had been unable to help.

  “My older brother was the first one to find Kotoko in the pleasure district, completely by chance. When I heard, I decided I would come and see, though both my brothers were against it. So much time had already passed so cruelly, you see. They said Kotoko would never want to see anyone she’d known before.”

  The fact that Masaomi regretted his decision had long been clear.

  “You were right about what you said the first day. For some reason, I just couldn’t let go. Was it pity?”

  “It’s all right.”

  Gazing at the light of the lantern, Misao absolved Masaomi of his self-condemnation.

  “I don’t think you’re arrogant, Masaomi.”

  He said it again. “I don’t think you’re arrogant.”

  “No”

  Masaomi lifted his head.

  He looked straight into Misao’s eyes.

  “I am arrogant.”

  Misao looked back at the firm front he had taken on. Masaomi touched Misao’s hair lightly with his fingertips, then stroked Misao’s temple with the palm of his hand, sweeping his hair behind his ear.

  Misao tilted his head slightly in embarrassment. His face hopeful, Masaomi spoke solemnly.

  “I will take you back with me to Tokyo, at all costs.”

  Every word was filled with this desire.

  When their colliding gazes made Misao tremble, Masaomi declared his intention all the more earnestly.

  “Even if you turn away from me as Kotoko did. I won’t let you leave me. Ever.”

  Misao felt a sharp pain deep in his nose and, as the tension left his widened eyes, tears flowed down his cheeks.

  He smiled at the man he loved through bleary eyes.

  “You promised...”

  Misao’s thin voice trembled, as if bobbing on wavy water.

  “You would take me to the sea again.”

  Masaomi nodded, and his face broke into a broad smile.

  “I also promised to take you on a boat.”

  “Together...”

  Misao had never expected that dream to come true.

  The emotions that had pushed through his eyes reached their peak, and he covered his mouth with his hands.

  “I’m so happy.”

  Unable to hold back his endless tears, he bowed his head.

  “So happy.”

  “Misao”

  His face was soaked by his pattering tears. Misao clenched a hand atop his knee, and Masaomi covered it with one of his own.

  He tilted his head and gently brushed his lips over the corners of Misao’s eyes, kissing away the tears.

  His eyelids fluttered.

  Misao lifted his tear-streaked face. The next kiss fell on the back of the hand that covered his mouth. His faintly closed eyelashes popped open and he was captivated by the man’s eyes, so close to his own.

  Misao let the hand that covered half his face slowly drop. Lips covered his exposed l
ips. The kiss was light, almost bringing his tears to a halt, but it grew deeper, invading his mouth in its intensity.

  “I feel like I’m dreaming.”

  Masaomi chuckled, slipping his lips over Misao’s cheek, nibbling on his earlobe, then tracing down his neck. He pulled Misao’s kimono open. He stopped suddenly. Misao brushed Masaomi’s head with his left hand and tilted his head curiously, wondering what was wrong.

  “Masaomi?”

  Misao freed his fingers from the tangle of Masaomi’s hair.

  Masaomi looked up at him. The severity of his expression shocked Misao. He was closely examining the left side of Misao’s neck. The only thing that could be there was the bruise Katsuragi had made as a prank. Misao was suddenly terrified of Katsuragi’s depravity, wondering if he had planned even this.

  Masaomi shifted his eyes up to Misao’s.

  “I didn’t do that.”

  His low, sharp statement made Misao clap a hand over his neck to hide it, but he realized that only looked suspicious and he hurriedly tried to explain.

  “No, IKatsuragi was playing a joke, and”

  “Katsuragi.” Masaomi whispered his name terribly. “What an infuriating name.”

  Misao felt pangs of Masaomi’s irritation in the air and he frowned, wondering what to do. He hadn’t been this afraid of angering someone since before he’d become a maid.

  He knew the reason for it. He wasn’t afraid of making Masaomi angry at him.

  He was afraid of making Masaomi hate him.

  “You said before that I wasn’t that kind of person.”

  His voice was controlled and unemotional. Misao gazed at him pleadingly and nodded.

  Masaomi lifted the hand that covered the bruise from Misao’s neck. He offered his lips in its place.

  “I want you to remember that.”

  “I”

  Masaomi sucked on the skin so hard it felt like he was biting him. Misao fell back, raising his right knee in surprise.

  “I don’t want anyone but me to do this. I don’t want them to even touch you.”

  His hot breath whispered over Misao’s neck and his eyelids fluttered. Masaomi lifted his head and, from close enough that he could have kissed Misao, he murmured, “I’m a jealous, narrow-minded man, I suppose.”

  His lips were sealed off as he gasped. The bottom hem of his kimono was rolled up and the man’s hands swept over his thighs. As his neck quivered, Masaomi pulled his lips away.

  “I want you to be mine alone.”

  Captivated by the sweet, intense entreaty, Misao opened his faintly closed eyelids and locked his eyes with Masaomi’s frantic gaze. He couldn’t hold back a faint sigh. Masaomi stopped the breath in his throat with words like fire.

  “Your heart and your body.”

  The two rushed at each other in their lust. Misao felt the part within him where they joined together tightly fill with wetness. He knew it was the passion Masaomi had released into him, and he panted raggedly, his throat convulsing with ecstasy.

  Misao’s legs were open wide, and Masaomi adjusted his hold around his waist. As he shifted slightly inside, an exquisite sensation ran up Misao’s spine and he let out a deep moan. Masaomi gazed into Misao’s face as he bent over him. He deepened the connection of their lower bodies and Misao threw his head back and cried out.

  His eyes were squeezed tightly shut. His hips rocked slightly.

  “No, II can’t”

  He was enthralled.

  Masaomi sucked his earlobe into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue. He bit into it and a sweet thrill of pain shot through him. The sound of Masaomi’s voice, husky with pleasure as it pronounced his name, made Misao’s heart skip a beat.

  “I want more,” he urged at Misao’s ear, and Misao turned his eyes to the side, shimmering with tears. Masaomi looked down at him and smiled lustfully. That alone was enough to make Misao lose all reason.

  “I feel like I’m going crazy,” Misao murmured breathily. He wrapped his arms around Masaomi’s back, and Masaomi lifted him up.

  “Ahnngh!”

  Unconsciously trying to flee the thing buried inside his body, Misao clung to Masaomi’s arms and raised himself onto his knees. But the man rested his hands on Misao’s pelvis and immediately pulled him back down.

  “Nngh! Ahahh!”

  The penetration was unbearable, and he clung to the man’s neck. He stayed like that until his body got used to the new position. As if he’d noticed calm return to Misao’s breathing, Masaomi reached up and pulled his arms away from his neck.

  His lips brushed over his temple.

  “I want to see you when you’re crazy.”

  His whispered words dazzled Misao, and he pulled his face away. Gazing into Misao’s dubious eyes, Masaomi planted both hands on the bed and leaned back. He settled onto his elbows.

  Misao swallowed dryly.

  This position meant that he would have to move. Misao had seen the women doing this. It was a popular request with those women, but of course Misao had never done it before.

  Breathing deeply, Misao rested his hands on the stomach that he rode. He focused his eyes on his hands and, trying not to spoil Masaomi’s pleasure, he moved his hips as he’d seen the girls do. But he didn’t do it very well, and a pained cry escaped him. He was sure it didn’t feel good for Masaomi either, and he looked up at him as he panted raggedly. Just as he’d feared, a tense frown awaited him. Misao hung his head.

  “You’re adorable.”

  Masaomi smiled at him and put a hand to his waist. He stroked the line of Misao’s body, then traced upwards. Sex had made Misao’s body incredibly sensitive and his entire body shuddered as Masaomi caressed his skin.

  “Just do whatever feels good for you.”

  Masaomi rubbed one of his nipples with a thumb.

  “Ah”

  Misao ached inside and his hips began to move naturally. The place inside him that wanted to be struck harder throbbed, and Misao tensed his knees and dropped his hips further to drive Masaomi where he wanted him, rubbing inside him. The pleasure it unleashed arched Misao’s throat. When he began touching himself in front, he lost all control over himself and his hips wiggled in every direction.

  “Ah! It’s so gooditah!”

  His mouth hung open lewdly and Masaomi traced his lips with the pad of a finger. Misao gazed rapturously down at him. Masaomi’s gaze was indulgent, swollen with pleasure, and it locked into Misao’s gaping eyes.

  “You’re good. It feels very nice.”

  Masaomi’s middle finger slipped into his mouth through the slight opening in his lips and tickled the inside of Misao’s lower lip, and stroked around the base of his tongue. The sensation was overwhelming. Misao tangled his tongue with the man’s finger. He felt himself slipping into a dream as he sucked on it. His brain ached lusciously.

  “I’m going to light the lanterns.”

  Caught off-guard by Kazushi’s voice, Misao accidentally bit hard into Masaomi’s finger. Masaomi’s eyes narrowed with pain, but there was no time for anything like an apology. Masaomi grabbed Misao’s head, rigid and wide-eyed, and pulled it down to kiss him deeply. He rolled Misao onto his side, then pushed his back into the bed. He pushed shallowly against him and swallowed up the scream that Misao unleashed.

  His fingers clawed at the air as the man squeezed deeper inside.

  There may have been screens to obscure them, but Misao knew better than anyone that they would be completely visible to the outside world through the gaps.

  Humiliation and pleasure whirlpooled together and threw Misao’s mind into chaos.

  He thought the lewd noises made by their bodies joining together sounded extraordinarily loud.

  “I’m sorry, I need to do my job.”

  At the sound of Kazushi’s apology from only a few feet away, Misao felt dizzy with embarrassment.

  “I don’t think anyone else will come bother you now. Enjoy your stay.”

  Masaomi
waited a few moments after Kazushi put the oil in the lantern and left the room, before he stopped moving and took his lips off of Misao’s.

  “I can’t believe you,” Misao said in shock, between his panting breaths.

  Masaomi chuckled at Misao and raised his eyebrows.

  “I hid your pretty face and voice, didn’t I?”

  He dropped a kiss on Misao’s silent lips, then began an irresistible wave of motion in his lower body. It conquered Misao. But before he surrendered himself to it, he realized for the first time that this man might be even more trouble than Katsuragi.

  Before the girls went out to attract customers that afternoon, the back room was filled with rich white smoke. The tea house owner had been puffing without rest on the tobacco in his pipe, looking irritable. Misao sat across a heating box from him, glowering critically. “It certainly is smoky.” But the owner only glared viciously at Masaomi, who was sitting very formally beside Misao. He showed no sign of having heard Misao’s complaint.

  “I was under the impression that you were here to see Ukigumo, Master Towa.”

  Sitting beside the prickling owner, Gikuyo spoke to Masaomi with a serene look. Misao stole a glance at Masaomi. He nodded to Gikuyo placidly. “But Ukigumo has cast me aside.”

  “And so you suggest taking a servant in her place? How very whimsical.”

  Gikuyo replied without the slightest change in her calm expression. In contrast, the owner lashed out at Masaomi resentfully.

  “Do you know how much work I’ve put into him over the years? I made him study all the arts and scholarship! Do you know how much that cost? Are you seriously”

  “I will pay it all back, even if it takes some time.”

  Masaomi cut the owner off in the middle of his tirade, forcefully declaring his own desire. That resistance seemed to have angered him.

  “And just how much do you think you owe?” the owner shouted, pounding on the side of the heater.

  “How much?” Masaomi countered coolly.

  Apparently he’d called the bluff, because the owner whined, “It’s not a question of money!”

  He was insufferable.

  “Aaand what’s ththat on your neck?”

  He pointed a finger, trembling with rage, at Misao. It was the mark that Katsuragi had made on his neck, that Masaomi had then darkened with the imprint of his own body.

 

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