Mantis

by India Millar

  A Japanese man would have accepted the flattery at face value and been pleased. I had forgotten that a gaijin would take my words differently. Adam’s face clouded.

  “I thought I knew you when I saw you from a distance. But now I realize I was mistaken. Apart from anything else, if you had met this clumsy gaijin before, you would have remembered me.”

  “Adam-san, I beg your pardon.” I spoke hurriedly, appalled at my own mistake. “I merely meant that I am newly arrived in the Floating World. I have met many people in the short time I have been here, but I have an excellent memory for faces. Had we been introduced, I am sure I would recollect you.”

  “I see.” He stared me straight in the face. It was rude, but when this awkward gaijin did it, somehow it was touching. I watched his expression trail off from hope into confusion. How easy it was to read these foreigners! They had no idea how to keep a stone face. I hid my own surprise behind a smile as I realized I found his almost childlike openness very attractive.

  “Perhaps I remind you of somebody you know?” I hinted. Adam seized on my words immediately.

  “Yes, yes, you do. I know it’s ridiculous, but you remind me very much of an anma who helped me when I had pain.” I raised my eyebrows in a show of astonishment, and even Adam seemed to realize he had insulted me. “She was young, and very beautiful, just as you are. Oddly enough, she was also called Kamakiri.”

  He looked at me and smiled shyly. I thought carefully before I spoke. He had found a blind woman, dirty and dressed in rags, beautiful? I was astonished that any man—especially an ignorant gaijin—could look beneath the surface of a woman’s appearance and see that there was loveliness beneath. I was amazed, and very touched.

  “I am flattered that I remind you of somebody you cared for, Adam-san.”

  Had I gone too far in assuming that he had cared for his anma? Adam’s face flushed, and I guessed I had not. Suddenly, I was absurdly jealous of Kamakiri the anma. It was ridiculous, of course, but the notion was there and would not go away. How dare this man prefer a destitute blind woman dressed in rags to the sumptuous oiran I was presenting to him. I almost laughed at my own silliness, but the hurt was too deep.

  “My anma was very special,” he said quietly. “I didn’t know her for very long. She disappeared suddenly. I would have liked to have known her better.”

  “And do I look like her, Adam-san?” I probed. Adam blinked as if his thoughts had been far away. I was oddly disappointed when he shook his head. I would have been pleased for him to find at least an echo of his anma in me.

  “I thought you did when I saw you in the street. But now that I’m closer to you, I see the resemblance was more in the way you walk, how you hold yourself. Apart from the fact that you’re both tall, you don’t look alike. My Kamakiri may only have been a humble anma, but she took pride in herself and her skills. She wore no makeup and her clothes were very different from yours. She was very kind to me,” he added sadly.

  “I see.” I lowered my head, and coincidentally, my gaze fell to his lap. I remembered the rearing tree of flesh that he had presented to me—or rather, to his anma—and an itch of arousal scratched inside my belly. I remembered all too clearly wondering at the time what it would feel like to ride such a river monster. Had Yo been here, I would have dismissed the thought immediately. But Yo was not here, and Adam was.

  “I must go. Thank you for your time and the tea, Kamakiri-san. How much do I owe you?” I winced. If nothing else, I had to teach this gaijin some manners before he insulted the wrong person and found himself skewered on the end of a sword. He was fumbling in the purse that hung from his obi. I abandoned all subtlety and put my fingers around his hand.

  “Adam-san.” I squeezed his hand firmly and he looked at me in surprise. “It’s unfortunate that your anma didn’t explain to you the way things are done here. You seem to be confusing me with a yujo. A woman of pleasure.” I had the satisfaction of watching his face flush crimson. I spoke before he could make matters worse. “I am an oiran. Unlike a yujo, I am very, very particular about my patrons. I accept only those few I know will give me pleasure, as well as take pleasure from me. It is like the courtship dance of cranes, you understand? Anybody fortunate enough to be allowed into my company must be in rhythm with me. I have as many talents as a geisha. Never offer to pay an oiran for her services. Such things are arranged discreetly.”

  I was almost breathless with indignation when I finished. Adam’s face was deeply embarrassed. He laced his fingers in his lap and stared at the tatami.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I must apologize for my ignorance. We gaijin must make many mistakes without even knowing we’re causing offense.”

  “The error is mine,” I said formally. I sensed he was so embarrassed he was on the verge of making his farewells. Not yet! I went on smoothly, smiling as I spoke. “It was beyond rude of me to speak to you so bluntly. No doubt you were better served when you visited other houses. I cannot apologize enough for my error.”

  I spoke quickly, every muscle tense as I urged him to take the bait. Honest man that he was, his expression was embarrassed.

  “Well, to be frank, I’ve only visited with one other Japanese person, and that was in the course of business. I expect you know him? Hara-san? I guess he’s an important man hereabouts.”

  It could, of course, be mere coincidence. But I knew instinctively that it was not. It was karma coming to my aid and guiding me onward. And knowing that, I also knew that it was pre-ordained that my plans would work. The knowledge made me deeply happy.

  “I have met Hara-san a number of times,” I said truthfully. “But I’ve never had the good fortune to be invited to his home.” Not yet, anyway.

  “I’m sure you will,” Adam said innocently. I smiled; I shared his certainty. “Both his house and most of the contents are remarkably beautiful. There are a few pieces I didn’t quite understand, but that is no doubt the fault of this ignorant foreigner. He has works of art scattered about casually that I’m sure must be worth a fortune. And he showed me his collection of jewels. I have never seen anything like them. Jade, precious stones, pearls. Any woman would think herself fortunate to own just one of them.”

  I thought contemptuously that I had been right about Hara-san. He had no class at all. A true noble would hide his wealth; my childhood home had been bare except for necessary furniture. Beautifully made, very expensive furniture, of course, but the beauty was in the wood and the craftsmanship. Not one single piece screamed vulgarity. Even prints were reserved for our own apartments, where strangers would never be invited in. And Hara-san chose to show off his wealth to a mere gaijin? I smiled sweetly.

  “It sounds wonderful. Do you do a great deal of business with Hara-san?”

  “Yes. He was one of the first contacts I made when I came to Edo. I was very fortunate to meet with him. He seems to have interests everywhere.” He obviously saw my fascinated expression and added, “I’ve heard that he’s quite new to Edo himself. Somebody told me he came from one of the other islands.” He leaned forward confidentially, so close he could have touched my face. “In fact, I have heard that he made his money as a yakuza.”

  I sighed with pleasure. Not only was I going to take my revenge, I was going to rid society of a parasite who had no business mingling with decent people. Perhaps Adam thought he had made yet another mistake. He jumped back as if he had suddenly recollected his manners and moved awkwardly.

  As I watched him, I remembered once more the tenderness Kamakiri the anma had felt for this honest, clumsy gaijin.

  “Adam-san,” I said quickly. “I have offended you. I am deeply sorry. You are my guest, and it seems my manners have deserted me. If you are not in a hurry, perhaps you would allow me to atone for my errors?”

  “Any fault lies with me, Kamakiri-san,” he said politely.

  As he spoke, Adam raised his face to me. He looked cautious, but at the same time, eager. I sighed and threw subtlety to the wind. I had to. At
this rate, we would still be apologizing to each other when Niko came home.

  “Adam-san, I find I am tired.” His face fell and I closed my eyes in exasperation. “I think I will lie down. But the knots in my obi are very intricate and my maid is not here to help me undress. Perhaps you could learn a new skill today? That of disrobing a Japanese woman?”

  To my profound relief, he climbed to his feet rapidly and bowed deeply.

  “If you will instruct me in the art, then I would be most eager to learn.”

  I smiled. Perhaps there was hope for my gaijin yet!

  He waited courteously for me to walk before him. He had done that when he had taken me to his house. It pleased me, but it was yet another lesson he had to learn.

  “You are most polite, Adam-san. And I appreciate that. But you should understand that here, the man always comes first. His woman follows behind and runs forward to open the door for her man.”

  “I have noticed that.” Adam put his hand in the small of my back. I should, of course, also have told him that touching a relative stranger was forbidden. But his touch was warm through my kimono, and I felt my skin glowing where he pressed against me. One lesson at a time, I decided. “In my country, men are polite to women. Would you be pleased if I treated you as if you were my inferior?”

  “No,” I said simply.

  “Then I will save that knowledge for when I am not with you.”

  I smiled, delighting in the inference that this would be the first time of many.

  The knot in my obi was complex, and I waited impatiently as Adam fumbled at it. Finally, he lost patience himself and tugged until it came loose.

  My kimono fell open, and he stared at my body as a hungry man might look at a feast.

  “My God, but you are truly beautiful Kamakiri,” he said hoarsely. I was delighted, but shook my head in denial.

  “I am too tall. And Japanese men prefer their women to have more curves than I do,” I said modestly. “And of course, to treat them with the proper respect a man deserves.”

  “Then they’re fools,” he said softly. “Although I guess some of them must have better taste or you wouldn’t be attracting crowds like you are. I’m honored,” he added huskily.

  Ah, but that was better!

  But now that I had Adam where I wanted him, I found myself at a loss. I doubted he would understand the subtle games a Japanese man would want to play, and I knew no others. I had no need to worry, though. Polite though he had been, now that I had made myself clear, Adam needed no urging. He crossed the few steps to my futon and took my face in both his hands. He held me still for a moment, staring down at me. I felt a flicker of worry; so close, would he see his anma in my face? I soon found I had no need to be concerned. He sighed deeply and then lowered his head toward me, placing his lips against mine. Yo had kissed me often. But he was exceptional. Japanese men did not kiss a woman. Or at least, not on the lips. The thought of Yo threw me off balance. Guilt ripped through my body like a lightning strike. What was I doing? Was my bodily need really so great that I could betray my lover?

  I was about to draw back when Adam’s tongue pried my lips apart and his tongue flicked into my mouth with a sensuous subtlety that left me shocked. Guilt retreated on a flood of desire and I kissed him back with a deep sigh of pleasure. I am sorry, Yo. But you have been gone for a long time, and my body cannot wait for you forever!

  Even as the thought flickered through my mind, I knew it was no justification. Then Adam transferred his lips to my neck and I shrugged mentally. Yo and I were equals. I knew he would expect me to simply accept it if he had taken a lover in Kyoto. And did I really expect that he would be faithful to me in body as well as mind? I did not. I felt an overwhelming surge of freedom thrill through me as I understood that the old proverb was correct. In the pursuit of pleasure, there is no difference between a woman and a man.

  And then Adam’s hand was sliding inside my open kimono and I heard him sigh deeply as his hand found my breast and all thoughts went far away from me.

  He was hungry for the delights of the flesh. As was I. He sank to his knees on the futon, pulling me down with him. I rubbed my face against his chest daringly, relishing the roughness of his body hair. He must have bathed very recently, I thought, as his flesh smelled clean and sweet. I spared a moment to be glad of that. If his body had reeked with the typical gaijin aroma of butter and undercooked meat, it would have killed my passion completely.

  Adam slid to the futon. His arms were around me, and he pulled me down with him. Instantly, his hand was searching urgently for my black moss. Oddly, I found his uncouth haste vastly exciting. My sex screamed for him; when he slid his fingers inside me, I was instantly slippery with anticipation. He bit my neck hard enough to hurt; I put my head back and panted with pleasure. I wanted to give back as much sensation as he was gifting to me. I ran my hand down his chest and my fingers grasped his tree of flesh. I squeezed, hard, and then ran my hand up and down its massive thickness, slow at first and then harder. I felt his kintama tense and transferred my grip to them, massaging and rubbing the flesh between my fingers.

  Adam muttered something I could not understand. No matter. I understood his meaning perfectly when he raised his face and looked at me. His mouth was ajar, his eyes wide, the pupils enormous.

  “Yes, Adam,” I said urgently. “Now.”

  Courtesy was obviously a thing of the past. He pushed me on to my back and kneeled across my waist. Instinctively, I arched my back, rubbing my slick sex against him as hard as I could. The hair on his chest extended down his belly to merge with his black moss. It prickled against my sex tantalizingly, making me gasp with pleasure. I was willing to wait no longer. I wriggled beneath him until his tree was poised over my opening and then I thrust forward until he was inside me.

  He needed no further urging. His tree slid into me, further and further until I felt I could take no more. There was no pain, just a delicious sensation of fullness. I fingered the base of his tree and discovered that he was not yet done; with my heart pounding fit to choke me, I pushed upward and coaxed the last bit of his tree inside me.

  I was pinned like an insect taken by my namesake, the mantis. I shrieked out loud with the pleasure of it. For a moment, I thought Adam might worry that he was causing me pain, then I understood truly that Reiki had been correct when she had said that all men were the same when they were naked. Adam was no longer polite. He was like a wild thing, seeking for nothing but his own fulfillment. He shoved at me until I thought it wasn’t possible to contain any more of him in me, and then I found that not only was it possible, it was delicious.

  My internal muscles tightened, sucking him into me and keeping him there. We rode together in silence, apart from the ragged sounds of our breathing. I sensed he was about to burst his fruit far too soon for me and I reached down quickly and forced my fingers around the very base of his tree. For a tantalizing moment, I felt my own flesh beneath my fingers, and then I tightened my grip on his tree—it was so big I could barely make my fingers meet around it—and threw him off rhythm.

  I felt his confusion and thrust and rocked against him, taking my moment to satisfy my own needs. I felt my yonaki swelling deep inside. The sensation was so powerful, I sensed that Adam felt it in his own body. He paused for a heartbeat and then plunged into me anew, grinding me into the futon as he sought to push every last fragment of his tree of flesh into me. He burst his fruit into my yonaki, and the waves of pleasure repeated and repeated as I bucked against him. Just as he had felt my yonaki, I felt the heat of his seed cascading deep into my sex.

  We lay together for a long time. Adam dragged the kakebuton over us and pulled me toward him so that my head was on his chest. It was deliciously comfortable and I was annoyed when he finally moved.

  “I must go.” He sat up and smiled down at me. I fixed a smile on my lips, remembering that I was Kamakiri the oiran, not a green girl annoyed that her lover was not lingering. “But I hope that I may come
back.”

  “Of course, Adam.” That was better! He was already on his feet, tying his robe around him. “You are always welcome in this house.”

  “Thank you, Kamakiri. I wonder, may I ask a favor of you?” I put my head on one side, inviting his question. “I would very much like to know what has happened to your namesake, Kamakiri the anma. I’ve been worried about her. Should you happen to hear anything about her, could you tell me when we meet again?”

  It was so stunned it took me a moment to gather my wits. I managed to find a smile and I spoke smoothly.

  “If I hear anything, I’ll be sure to tell you. But anma often disappear for long periods. It may well be that she has gone out of Edo altogether.” I paused, trying to find the right words. “Were you very fond of her, Adam?”

  “Yes,” he said simply. “She had a goodness about her that isn’t found often.” It was on the tip of my tongue to say tartly, even though she robbed you? But I remembered myself and kept quiet. In any event, Adam answered my unspoken thoughts. “She stole some pills from me. I hope she wanted them to relieve the pain of some of her patrons, but I’m worried she might have tried them on herself first to make sure they were safe. They were very strong, and if she took more than one, they could be dangerous.” He sighed and wiped his hands over his face. I nodded gravely.

  “I see. You want her caught and punished. And your pills returned.”

  “Not at all.” Adam frowned. “She had no need to steal them. If she had asked, I would have given them to her and explained how careful she had to be with them. I certainly don’t want to see her punished. I just want to know I haven’t inadvertently caused her harm.”

  He shrugged and made a curious gesture, putting his fingers in front of his lips and then flicking his hand toward me.

  “I hope to see you again soon, Kamakiri.” He smiled and turned, pausing to call over his shoulder, “Please, stay there in comfort. I’ll make sure your shoji is closed behind me.”