As Sho had said, Toho fell asleep again after a short time. Now Hirata extinguished the lantern, leaving only the breaking dawn to give light through the window slats. He lay back down and gazed at Sho, who had closed his eyes and seemed to be falling back asleep. He wondered if his perception of Sho was at all correct. In spite of the contradictory things Sho said, Hirata felt that deep down, Sho didn’t want him to leave, that in fact Sho would panic if Hirata even said something about leaving. Sho had accused him of being insensitive toward the effect their separation had had on him, believing the experience had been more traumatic for him than for Hirata. And even though Sho had since apologized for saying such a thing, it seemed he’d actually spoken the truth. Just the few days they’d spent together had shown Hirata that their separation had scarred Sho in such a way that Sho dealt with it by taking absolute control over whether Hirata stayed or left.
The understanding dawned at first like a spark, then spread into a light that seemed to shine through Hirata’s being. Was it possible that such emotional pain could dominate Sho’s entire life this way?
You’re inside of me….
Sho had said those words. He’d admitted the truth, yet he would continue to insist that they should separate again. It was a contradiction that, Hirata felt, should he have held it in his mind and heart, would drive him to madness.
“Hirata!” Sho sat bolt upright, his eyes wide.
Hirata’s heart lurched. Icy prickles erupted along his skin. He sat up quickly. “What is it?”
“Hirata….” Sweat gleamed on Sho’s skin. With the agility of a cat, he sprang into a crouch, not even disturbing Toho, who slept on as if nothing happened. He reached for his cane-sword. “Stay with the boy.”
“Sho, I don’t—”
“Listen to me. Be prepared to kill again.” Without another word, Sho was on his feet, creeping toward the door, his hands ready to pull the sword from its sheath.
Chapter Seven
SHO UNSHEATHED his sword and dropped the scabbard aside. Then he unlatched the door. Slowly, each second causing Hirata’s heart to beat more intensely, Sho slid the door open a crack. Hirata gripped the hilt of his long sword, waiting.
“Who’s there?” Sho barked. “Answer now or I’ll gut you.”
“Jiro-san! Please, don’t kill me!”
Sho blew out a breath. He slid the door open, revealing Toho’s uncle and aunt. Both were wide-eyed, their hands shaking, threatening to drop the baskets and pots they bore.
“Heizo-san, forgive me.” Sho returned his sword to its sheath, which he quickly set to the side. He reached out with both hands. “You carry heavy things. Let me help you.” Sho retrieved a heavy earthenware pot from the woman. “Please forgive me for frightening you,” he went on, leading them up the step to the living area of the house. Immediately, Toho’s aunt set down the basket strapped onto her back and set about starting the cook fire.
Hirata watched Sho’s face as Sho set down the pot and then came over and knelt nearby. Why had Sho been so alarmed at the sound of someone approaching the house? Toho’s relatives came each morning around this time with their offering.
Just then Toho awoke and sat up, rubbing his eyes. Without a word, he rose and went over to Sho, as always, and sat down close to him.
Of course, there was no chance to ask Sho now with Toho and his family here. But Hirata waited patiently and, as always, offered his services in whatever was needed. Toho’s aunt and uncle kindly had cooked plenty of food for them, served it, and sat nearby, ready to serve more, should it be wanted. Toho stayed as close to Sho as he could at all times, as if he were truly the man’s shadow. What would happen when Toho’s family wanted to leave and take him with them?
“Toho seems better today,” Heizo remarked. He knelt politely, hands on his thighs. He glanced at his nephew who sat quietly, eating a bowl of millet.
“Yes.” Sho reached out and touched the boy’s head. Hirata heard the catch in his friend’s voice. “He is. But you must be patient with him.”
Heizo nodded and bowed. “Yes, Jiro-san, we will.” He looked again at Toho, his face deeply lined at the sight of the boy, and Hirata didn’t miss the expression. Clearly, Toho’s uncle was bewildered at how to cope with such a traumatized being in his care since he’d so readily allowed Toho to stay here all this time in spite of his protestations. “I cannot thank you enough for being so helpful.”
“You’re very welcome, Heizo-san.”
“We really must bring him home today. I can’t imagine his parents would have approved of such an imposition.”
Hirata glanced at Toho. The boy had set his bowl and chopsticks down and sat, shoulders hunched. It could not be more painfully obvious that Toho didn’t want to leave, and from Sho’s sad expression, he didn’t want Toho to leave either. “It’s no imposition,” Sho said softly. “I promise.”
Heizo bowed. “You are most kind, Jiro-san. But as long as Toho is no longer ill the way he was when we brought him to you, I could never allow him to be a burden to you.”
The older man had never spoken so strongly, indicating that this time, he meant his words. Hirata saw a flush of pride rise in Heizo. Heizo so obviously wanted Toho to remain here yet felt torn. To not even be able to look after a small boy left in his care by his murdered relatives probably left him with a deep sense of shame and obligation.
Sho seemed to understand this too, for he only nodded instead of pressing his point.
Heizo reached for his nephew’s hand and tugged gently. “Come, Toho. We must go home. Jiro-san has already been kinder than we should ask him to be.”
Toho resisted his uncle’s tug and continued to sit, his head bowed. His small shoulders trembled.
Sho cocked his head, as if he could actually hear the boy’s distress. “It’s all right, Toho,” he said gently. “I’m always close by.”
But Toho’s head only sank lower.
“Toho, you’re misbehaving,” Heizo said. “My apologies, Jiro-san.” He tugged again on his nephew’s hand, eliciting a whimper from Toho.
“Heizo-san, just a moment, please.” Sho reached into his kimono and lifted something out and up over his head.
Hirata pulled in a breath. His half of the stone! He watched Sho put the cord around Toho’s neck. “Take this with you, Toho-kun. I’ve worn it my whole life. This way, a part of me goes with you and you can bring that part back to me whenever you want. Is that all right?”
Toho looked up. His dark eyes were wide but he nodded vigorously. One hand went to the small piece of stone, and he wrapped his fingers around it as if never to let go. Only then, slowly, did he rise and follow his uncle to the door where Heizo and his wife bowed again deeply several times. Toho’s aunt took her nephew by the hand. Sho stood at the door, Hirata behind him, watching as if he could see them walking away.
When they were gone, Sho released a deep sigh and slid the door shut. At first, he didn’t turn around. “I let him down so badly,” he mumbled. “First you, now the poor child. I could have insisted he stay. But I bowed to his uncle’s pride.”
“You did what you had to do.” Hirata wanted desperately to take away Sho’s upset. After all, they both understood how agonizing it was to be dragged away from someone they loved.
“I suppose, but is saving his uncle’s face worth the damage to his soul?”
Hirata sighed. “I’m the last person in the world who would tell you it is.”
Sho cleared his throat. “Hirata, please forgive me for giving away your gift. Toho needed the stone. As much as I’ve needed it all these years.”
“It’s all right,” he said gently. How could he be upset with Sho, after having witnessed everything that had happened the past day and night? “I understand.” Without thinking, he drew closer and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Perhaps you don’t need it now because I’m here.”
Sho let out a shivery breath. To Hirata’s surprise, Sho placed a hand over his. “Perhaps you’re right, Hirata.�
�� He squeezed Hirata’s hand, then bent to retrieve his cane-sword.
Hirata tensed, waiting for Sho to speak to him of his own departure. Now that he’d healed and Toho was back with his family….
“Which reminds me.” Sho picked up Hirata’s wrist and felt his pulses. He listened again for what felt a long time. “Another few days, I think, before you’re well enough to travel.”
Hirata’s heart jumped. “Truly?” He swallowed the words that would have come next. No need to tell Sho how well he was feeling.
Sho nodded. “Yes, truly. Once you’re gone I won’t be able to follow up with your recovery. It’s best I’m absolutely certain you’re ready.” He went over to the door and slid it open. “I’m going to split some logs now. Would you mind sweeping the floor?”
Hirata stared at him. “Not at all,” he said, even though he felt strong enough to be the one to split the logs.
“Thank you, Hirata.” Sho went out the door and slid it closed behind him.
Hirata continued to stand there, dazed. Sho was so strange, really. He’d been certain Sho would order him to leave at once. Then again, Sho was a thorough healer and certainly wanted to make sure he was fully well. He set about sweeping the floor, not wanting to give a thought to a few days hence, when, no doubt, Sho would tell him to leave.
Yet, when those few days had passed and Sho listened to Hirata’s pulses, he shook his head. “Not quite yet. A few more days. I need to be certain.” He then prepared to go out and make a visit to Toho as well as a few other people he treated, assigning a household task for Hirata to do in his absence.
This strange pattern continued for nearly another fortnight. Hirata followed along and said nothing. Confused as he was, as long as Sho didn’t order him to leave, he was more than happy to let their odd coexistence continue. He treasured those few moments of Sho’s touch on his wrist, the time he was able to spend gazing on Sho, sometimes even catching sight of him after bathing in the river, before he covered his beautiful physique with a clean kimono Hirata himself had washed.
Perhaps he needs my companionship, Hirata dared to think. After all, Sho always was upset after returning from seeing Toho, who, he reported, had made little improvement after returning to his aunt and uncle.
Hirata served Sho a bowl of rice and sat close by him with his own supper. His rudimentary cooking skills had improved a great deal these past two weeks. At least, Sho didn’t complain about the fare.
The firelight danced off Sho’s skin as Sho absently stared at the flames he couldn’t see. “I’ve been considering introducing Toho to Aoki,” he said.
Hirata’s heart thumped. “Aoki?”
“Yes. Toho needs a… he needs nurturing. Even though Aoki is a man, he has the nurturing heart of a kind woman. Like a… mother.”
Hirata cleared his throat. Jealousy warred with his own concern for Toho’s welfare. “I see. What about his aunt? Doesn’t she nurture him?”
Sho bowed his head, and his shoulders slumped. “Not really. She has children of her own and feels he’s a bother. She doesn’t say that, but I sense it when I’m there. And I know Toho feels it even though he doesn’t appear to notice anything.”
Hirata set down his bowl. “I see.”
Sho turned his head. “Hirata, you don’t have to feel so jealous. Aoki is beautiful and sweet and I admit I’ve found comfort with him, but I’m not in love with him. I’m truly concerned for Toho’s welfare. He needs some… softness.”
Hirata felt both chastened and relieved. “I didn’t mean to say that—”
“Which reminds me,” Sho said. “Have you given thought to your future, Hirata? I mean, when you leave here?”
Leave here. The words ripped through Hirata’s soul with such force he almost dropped his rice bowl. He set it down with suddenly trembling hands. “No,” he made himself say. “I have not.” He took a deep breath and turned away from Sho. If he said anything, he’d start an argument. Moments passed with excruciating slowness. He waited for Sho to speak again, but Sho was silent.
And then he realized something else. Understanding flooded him so hard he let out another breath.
He was definitely well enough to travel and had been well enough for nearly the entire fortnight since Toho had left. He knew his own body, knew its strength. Undoubtedly, Sho knew it as well. With Sho’s knowledge and skill, how could he not feel Hirata’s renewed strength in his pulses? Impossible!
In the wake of this understanding, the painful sensation passed, replaced by an odd calm, a serenity he hadn’t experienced ever before in his life. Waves of gentle warmth washed over him—
“Sho-chan,” he murmured, “I have completely healed from my wound. We both know that. I don’t want to leave. I….” He swallowed hard, gathering his courage while he watched Sho’s breathing deepen. “I believe with my entire being that you don’t want me to leave either.”
Sho too set down his rice bowl. “What I want is of no consequence. I wanted to remain with you all those years ago. I didn’t want to go with Ichi-san. Did that matter? Why should it matter now?”
Hirata stared at him. “Of course it matters. When it didn’t matter, you suffered.”
“I’m suffering now, Hirata. The morning Toho’s aunt and uncle came to take him away, you saw the way I jumped up as if an intruder stalked us? Something in me knew Toho would be leaving and I felt crazy. I’ve been living with the knowledge that you’ll leave too. What do you think that’s doing to me inside?”
“But, Sho-chan, I don’t have to leave. You have a choice now.”
Sho exhaled, a sound of exasperation. “You don’t understand, do you? Perhaps if I’d behaved differently over the years, I could feel worthy of your presence. If I’d cared to make sure you were all right when actually you were being violated and then later, you were searching the entire world for me, not knowing if I was alive or dead. But I did nothing and allowed you to suffer needlessly. What kind of friend am I? My guilt toward you is now eating me alive.”
Hirata’s heart lurched. “So you would send me away to ease your conscience? Is that not worse?”
Sho’s brow crinkled. “No. For your own sake I would send you away. If you stay here, you’ll never find someone who will treat you properly. At first I needed you to leave because your presence, your voice, your scent… brought back all the pain I’d worked so hard to control.” He shook his head and went past Hirata, back up to the living area where he stood over the futons Hirata had unrolled a short while earlier. “Now that I know how much I want us to stay together again, after how deeply I’ve betrayed you, your forgiveness only makes my transgressions worse.”
Sho sank to his knees, his shoulders now slouched. “I don’t want to lose you a second time, Hirata, which is why I’ve… been postponing your leaving.” He heaved a sigh. “Yes, I know you’re well enough. You’ve been well enough for days. But every time I’m around you, I remember only how horridly I’ve treated you.”
Hirata rushed to him and knelt facing him. He grasped Sho’s upper arms. “Sho, I swear on my life you’re guilty of nothing! You’ve been a victim as much as I have. Now we can help each other. All that matters is that we’re together. I beg you to believe me.”
Sho didn’t answer right away. He lifted his face up as if to stare into Hirata’s eyes. Moisture made Sho’s eyes appear to glow. One tear escaped and ran down his smooth cheek. “At the river, a fortnight ago, when you put your arms around me….” His voice trembled. “I wanted so badly to surrender to you. To your touch. To your passion. In that one moment, I felt things I hadn’t since we were children. That contentment and deep love of life I used to feel when we were together. I knew then my heart had been torn open again.”
Hirata lifted a trembling hand and touched Sho’s cheek, brushing the tear away with the pad of his thumb. “I thought I repulsed you.”
Sho shook his head. “Never. You don’t understand.” He paused and heaved a deep breath, then covered Hirata’s hand with his wh
ere it rested on his cheek. “All those years ago, we were so close I didn’t know where I ended and you began. That’s how it always was, and that’s all I wanted. And then, when Ichi-san came and took me away, I was only half a person. I’ve had to make the other half, without you.” As he spoke, Sho’s sorrow mounted visibly. Tears streamed down his cheeks and each word he spoke came out on a guttural sob.
“Sho-chan,” Hirata whispered and squeezed his arm. “We’re two people, but we have one castle and the castle cannot stand without us both.” He waited for Sho to respond but Sho only sobbed, his head bowed. “You understand, don’t you, Sho? Please tell me you understand.” He pulled Sho into his arms and the other man fell against him. Sho’s hand, the one that had been on Hirata’s cheek, now gripped Hirata’s upper arm, as if Sho were trying to pry him away and pull him close at the same time.
Hirata’s eyes stung with welling tears. Sho’s back heaved against his hand. He closed his eyes and let the sound of Sho’s crying fill his ears, fill his soul. “I promise you, Sho, you’re no guiltier of abandoning me than I have been of having seduced the ronin. Do you understand?”
Sho seemed to hear that, for he finally lifted his head and faced Hirata. Sho’s bottom lip trembled. His dark eyes glistened. “Of course I understand you, Hirata,” he choked out. “I’ve never not understood you. Ever. You’ve always been with me.” He pressed his cheek to Hirata’s. “I used to swear I could hear you breathing at night. Right next to me. I could feel the warmth of your body against mine. I would tell myself I was dreaming, but I don’t think I was.” He tilted his face away and upward, as if to stare into Hirata’s eyes. His beauty made an ache in Hirata’s chest. “I wish I had come back to you, Hirata. I am so sorry. So sor—Nnhh.”
Hirata cut him off with a kiss. He cupped Sho’s face in both hands and pushed his tongue between Sho’s lips. The warm moist contact pulled a whimper from Hirata. He closed his eyes and gulped at Sho’s mouth, plundered his tongue, his teeth, and every recess his fervently seeking tongue could find. Sho was beautiful, delicious, everything good there was in the world. Every lost moment, every second of heartache and misery melted away with that kiss. Sho’s scent invaded him, made him dizzy. Kissing Sho was like drinking fine saké. It made him drunk, languid, made him feel ecstasy burning through his veins.
Blind Love Page 9
