"That's not what I'm asking. Mr. Morimoto, I saw a lot of surveillance screens in the guard room. You kept watch on this basement, too, didn't you? You knew that Ogura and Masatake here were talking to each other."
Kuji had no idea that there had been surveillance in the room. He snapped his head up to look around.
"It's all right. I turned them off," Song said.
"That's why you went with Morimoto," Kuji said in awe.
"You could say that," murmured Song. The man stepped away from Morimoto and drew closer to the body. "I was afraid it would happen, but I didn't think they'd act so quickly. The poor soul." Song got down on his knees, reached out, and touched Ogura's forehead. With his other hand, he crossed himself.
"Our Father, which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come..." Song murmured a prayer before standing up and directing a harsh gaze at Morimoto. "And you told him that this boy would be in the basement."
Morimoto sniffled as he nodded. "He said they were only going to talk."
"How do you think he caught on?"
"Caught on? I didn't even know about this in the first place," Morimoto exclaimed. "I just told him that someone had asked about Yoshida. Besides, I don't even know where Yoshida could be."
"Probably not in this world anymore. Of course, no way you would know about that," Song said sarcastically.
Morimoto began to quake. "I-I really don't know. It's not my fault. I just... I'm just supposed to tell them who's healthy and has no relatives."
"Tell whom?"
"I don't know."
"And what do you get in return?"
"Just some operating budget. I just want to help people, all right? If I knew they'd get killed, I wouldn't have told them. Those guys said they were going to take people overseas to work. Residents were happy to go, since the pay was good."
"But that was a lie. I'm sure you must have started to have your doubts, too, right?"
Morimoto continued to weep as he shook his head.
"You can plead ignorance all you want, but no one will take it. You might as well come clean and say everything you know. It's the least you can do to atone."
Kuji looked on in astonishment. Song was good at interrogation. The man gripped Morimoto's arm and made him get to his feet.
"We're going out. And you're coming."
Kuji thought Morimoto would resist, but the man nodded quietly. "I don't wanna stay here," he said. "I'm scared. Take me away somewhere."
Morimoto walked to stand ahead of both of them. Just as he was about to lead them out, Song held him back.
"We shouldn't go out through the main entrance. Is there any way to get directly outside from the boiler room?"
"Yes," Morimoto and Kuji said in unison. "But why?"
"Whoever killed Ogura was extremely cruel but efficient. He must have come up from behind like this, put his arm around the boy, and slashed straight across. There's no sign of hesitation. He was probably a professional killer. If that's the case, there's one more person who might have to be shut up, and that's you, Mr. Morimoto."
"Why me?"
Song smiled at him. "Because you're the only one who knows the truth. If Masatake hadn't come here, the body would have been discovered much later. The suspects probably still think that you don't know, Mr. Morimoto. And since you're supposed to be working at the reception desk right now, they'd probably come in through the front entrance to kill you."
Morimoto's small eyes widened. "I thought that only happened in movies."
"Get closer to the body and look closely at the wound. You don't want to end up like that, do you? They say the dead have no mouths, but look, he's got two."
Morimoto clung to Song desperately. "Help me," he pleaded. "I'll do anything."
"I'd like to help you, too."
Kuji looked at Song in bewilderment. It was as if he were a totally different person.
The three of them emerged from the boiler room to the set of stairs outside. There was a dry area between this building and the building next door which connected to the street. Song took the lead, followed by Morimoto, and Kuji came up from behind.
"Give it until tomorrow until the body's discovered and creates a commotion. If the police get onto it, that'll be good for us," Kuji said under his breath. Song laughed quietly.
"Masatake, you bragged that you'd been in jail and that the yakuza had taken you in as one of theirs. But from my perspective, you're still very much naive. Do you know what the police would do once they find the body? They would fabricate a story to say that the murderer was the guy who used to work in the laundry room - you. You have a criminal history. There's only one thing that wasn't part of their plan, and that was the fact that you have me as a friend."
"Who are you, really?" Morimoto asked in place of Kuji.
"Shh!" Song hushed them with his hand. "There's a chance that the men who killed Ogura might come back."
There was no one at the entrance of the building when they arrived. The three men stayed in the same file as they headed toward the car. The minivan emerged in the dark. Kuji sighed in relief. But just then, he saw two shadows near the car. Beneath the bright streetlights, he could see that they were wearing familiar blue uniforms and sashes. They were traffic enforcement officers.
"Excuse me, we'll be on our way, soon," Kuji called loudly, taking one step forward. The two men turned around. Just as Kuji opened his mouth to speak again, the two raised their arms at the same time. They were each holding something that looked all too familiar.
Kuji was stunned. Just then, he heard a dull sound like that of a string ripping. Then, another. The two men in front of them had holes in their foreheads. They crumpled into a heap on the road without another word.
He had no idea what had just happened. He whipped around to see Song looking as cool as a cucumber with a silencer-equipped gun in his hand.
"You're naive, Masatake," he said quietly, putting the gun away in his jacket. "What would they be doing, enforcing parking violations at this hour of the night?"
The man was right. Kuji looked down at the fallen men.
"Police uniforms are hard to come by. They made a good choice of disguise, but you could also say that they're unfamiliar with how things work in Japan. But they were good enough to fool someone like you, Masatake."
"Who the hell are you?" Morimoto asked again, but Song approached the two fallen men without answering him.
"We have no time, but we'll have to make do. Our Father, which art in heaven..." After Song finished his quick prayer, he opened the door to the minivan.
"Get on. Quickly."
Morimoto dove into the rear seat.
"Masatake, you, too. Hurry up."
"But these guys..." Kuji pointed at the two bodies on the ground.
"Leave them. Their friends will come and clean them up. If they've got smarts enough to procure police uniforms, they're probably competent to a degree."
Kuji climbed into the passenger seat and glared at Song.
"Who the hell are you?"
"I am a Catholic priest."
"You killed those people."
Song sighed and put the key in the ignition. "I won't try to make excuses by saying I had no choice. But as you can see from their methods, they're cruel and cold-blooded. I did this to protect everyone else. And if we can apprehend Morimoto here, we might still be able to help Yoshida."
"I see..." If Yoshida was still in the country, Kuji thought.
"It was a pity what happened to Ogura. If only we'd acted sooner. But, what's more important at the moment is..." Song turned around to check behind him. Morimoto was as still as a mouse in the back seat. "Where would be a safe place to take him? We can take him to the police, but we have no proof."
Just as the minivan engine roared to life and lurched into motion, Kuji's cell phone rang.
"Hello?" Kuji answered.
He was greeted by Nango's voice. "You fucking idiot!" he yelled. "What the hell have you gott
en yourself into, you fag? Your job was to get fucked in the ass, and that was all you should have settled for!"
"Nango, why..."
"You retard. Why did you think I gave you a new cell phone? I get to listen in on all of your calls now. It's GPS equipped, too. Ever thought about that?"
"So that means... everything I said back there, you heard...? About those two being killed?"
"You're damn right, I did. That's why I'm calling, you idiot."
Song kept one hand on the steering wheel and reached out toward Kuji with the other. "Pass that to me, please."
Kuji passed the phone to him, which Song wedged between his shoulder and neck as he spoke into it quietly. "Hello, Mr. Nango, or whoever this is. Please lead us to somewhere safe. Thank you for getting in touch. You're a great help."
"You're the last person I want to be thanked by, all right? Give the phone back to him. He can navigate."
Kuji took the cell phone back from Song and orally passed on the instructions that Nango said into his ear. The car wove through the nighttime streets.
Nango's instructions were short. "Next, turn left," he would say. "Next, right." The car eventually turned off the main road, where there were barely any more oncoming cars. It took a while for Kuji to notice that Song was muttering something under his breath. He listened carefully. It was a Bible passage.
"Have mercy upon me, O God, according to thy lovingkindness: according unto the multitude of thy tender mercies blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my transgressions: and my sin is ever before me. Against thee, thee only, have I sinned, and done this evil in thy sight..."
Song wore a tense expression on his face as he looked before him. He barely blinked; he only occasionally closed his eyes as if in prayer.
伊Who are you? Where did you come from? Why do you have a gun?伊 A jumble of questions sprung up and crowded Kuji's mind, but he could not bring himself to interrupt Song while he recited Bible verses to himself.
The car pulled to a stop in front of a residential house. It was within Metropolitan Tokyo, but Kuji wasn't sure of the exact address. There were no streetlights around, and it was pitch black. The house was unremarkable and ordinary-looking. In front of the gate stood Nango and another uniformed police officer.
"Hurry up and get out," Nango ordered. The three of them exited the car. "This is where we shelter important witnesses," Nango explained. "Kuji and that other guy - Morimoto? You guys will be assigned protection."
Nango made a shooing motion with his hand toward Song. "You get out of here immediately. Our nation's laws can't protect you."
Song bowed his head. "I understand. Please take care of the both of them. Especially Masatake."
"What the hell do you mean?" Kuji said, looking back and forth between Song and Nango. The two men ignored him.
"Masatake is a very honest and good young man. He's been a great help."
"I'm sure he has. He's made himself useful to me, too. In a lot of ways. I give him a good time for what he does. Doing what you can't do."
Kuji flushed in anger at Nango's snide remark. "Nango!" he snapped.
Nango grabbed Kuji's arm as if to tell him to shut up. Song smiled as he looked on.
"Mr. Nango, isn't it time that you set Masatake free?"
Nango shook his head. "Nope. This guy's useful. Can't let him go."
"I see," Song smiled again. "Masatake, he must cherish you well. If so, that's fine."
伊Cherish? Are you kidding me?伊 Kuji almost retorted, but when he saw Song heading back to the car, he shook free of Nango's hand. He sprinted around to the passenger's side.
"Where're you going?"
"Now that I've delivered you in safe hands, my job is done. I'm going back to where I belong. To my church." Song climbed into the driver's seat and looked at Kuji. "Now, be a good boy and stay there."
"Wait!" Kuji protested desperately. "I wanted to ask you - did you know I was a spy?"
Song smiled and shook his head. "I didn't. You've always been my dear Masatake. You are, always have been, and always will be."
Morimoto disappeared into the house, accompanied by police officers. Kuji went in after him, being half-dragged along by Nango. With a roar of the engine, the minivan drove off.
"Goodbye."
Those were the last words that Song had left him.
Upon entering the house, Morimoto and Kuji were separated. Morimoto was taken to the second floor, and Kuji to the first. Nango took Kuji to a small Western-style room. It was about eighty square feet, with a student's desk and bed. In a regular household, this would be the child's room.
"Sit down."
Kuji sat down on the bed and looked up at Nango, who was standing in front of him with his feet set apart.
"Nango, who is Song, really? Why did you say that you couldn't protect him?"
Nango didn't answer his question, but instead folded his arms. "This turf belongs to Metropolitan Police jurisdiction. I've got no power here."
"Metropolitan Police? What's the case about?"
"No idea." Nango reached out and grabbed a fistful of Kuji's hair.
"Ow!" Kuji protested.
"Shut up! Thanks to you, we're in a pretty little mess. I had to beg to be allowed in here, all right? Not to mention having to put up with people commenting on what an idiot pet I had for an S."
"I don't care about that. Tell me about Song."
"And I'll take that question and throw it right back at ya, idiot. I thought he was supposed to be a priest?"
Kuji shook his head. "No priest would murder someone, would they?" he lifted his gaze to search Nango's expression. "I feel so stupid," he muttered to himself. "It's his fault. He got me in the mood because he was putting on an act of being prim and proper. But he's exactly like the rest."
Kuji's voice then took on a sugary tone. "Nango," he said. "That really scared me back there... but you saved me."
"I told you not to stick your nose into stupid things."
"You were right." Kuji reached out and lowered Nango's fly. He slipped his hands into the man's pants and groped his crotch. "You like my fingers, too, don't you?"
Nango gave him a contemptuous smile. "What? Horny?"
"Yeah, kinda. My heart is all racing and stuff. You know... the smell of blood. It can be a turn-on."
"That's right." Nango's penis was already hard. Kuji pulled it out and put the tip of it into his mouth.
"So what is it with that guy, huh?" Kuji said, running his tongue over and along the man's penis and speaking in between. "You said he was a sleeper for the North, but you were wrong."
"I'm not the one who came up with the idea," Nango said between heavy breaths as he pushed Kuji's head into his crotch.
"Use your throat," he commanded as he grabbed a fistful of hair and pushed him away. Kuji's mouth came away from the man's penis.
"Did someone tip you off?" Kuji asked.
"Not sure if you can call it a tip. People from the South told us to keep watch on him." Nango then pushed Kuji's face against his crotch again. Kuji let the man's penis penetrate deep into his throat before puckering his lips.
North and South. He knew nothing about the countries. He only knew that they were opposing enemies. But Song was not someone from the North. Why had people from the South passed on wrong information? In doing so, they had sold out one of their own.
Kuji was still in thought when Nango forcibly pushed his head away again. Kuji's puckered mouth ran along the length of his penis.
"Yeah, that's it. Keep it coming." The man shoved Kuji's head into his crotch again. Kuji almost choked as he swallowed the man's penis.
Every time he latched onto the member, he was grabbed by the hair and pulled away, then forced to bury his face into the man's crotch again. Nango grabbed both of his ears and repeatedly pushed and pulled his head against his groin. Kuji pumped the man's rearing penis with his mouth.
&nb
sp; Nango eventually picked Kuji up and made him sit on the desk. He pulled Kuji's pants off, grabbed his ankles, and hoisted them over his shoulders.
"Now I'll give you some cock."
"Give it to me, Nango," Kuji said in an imploring tone. Once the man was inside of him, he made a point of thrusting back and letting out exaggerated moans. Kuji built up pleasure while his thoughts raced in his mind.
Why hadn't Nango let Song into the house? Because Song was not of Japanese nationality. Therefore the Metropolitan Police had no obligation to protect him. But was Song really a spy for the North, as the people from the South had said in their tip?
No - if he was a spy from the North, he would not try to report crime and cooperate with the police - he would end up blowing his cover that way. If that was the case, Kuji thought, perhaps he was someone from the South. But then why had the people from the South tipped the police off that way? Why had they ratted out one of their own?
Kuji's speculations were taking him nowhere. Was Song even a priest in the first place? Never. A priest would never kill another man. Kuji stopped thinking once he got that far, and pushed Song into the back of his mind and decided to savor the member inside of him.
He had to climax once, or else Nango would get suspicious.
"Ahhh, I'm coming, Nango-!" Kuji let out an ecstatic moan as he released his milky white desire. He clenched around Nango and twisted his hips.
"Ngh-" Nango let out a short grunt and paused.
"Come on, give me more. I've been deprived here." Kuji purposely put on a coquettish act. "I dunno why I ever thought Song was a good idea," he continued. "A man who can't fuck isn't a man. I wouldn't be able to do without your cock, Nango."
Nango laughed as he began to thrust again. "That's kind of cute, isn't it? I hope you're not going to stop doing that after tonight?"
Eventually Nango detached himself and took out a cigarette from his jacket. He walked over to the bed and sat down. Kuji slid off the desk and lay down on the floor. He turned his face to Nango and put a hand to his bare crotch.
"Look how full my belly is. It's sloshing around."
Nango laughed. He looked at Kuji, seemingly in good spirits. "You asked for it."
Amazing Grace Page 7
