They walked down the hall and Masaomi led them unerringly to Ukigumo’s tea room. He was clearly already in Ukigumo’s inner circle. It was difficult to contain the searing pain of that fact, and Misao’s eyelids drooped.
Wine had already been laid out when they reached the room, but Masaomi did not sit down at the table; instead, he continued on to the window. It was wide enough for several people to sit all at once.
The shutters were open, allowing a playful night breeze to steal in.
Masaomi sat on the edge of the windowsill.
“It’s so red.”
Masaomi said this as he gazed out at the pleasure district.
“Everywhere you look in this place, you see red.”
His face twisted painfully and he looked desperately up at Misao, who could only stand there.
“I feel like I’m going crazy.”
Misao had not the faintest idea how to respond to this.
He didn’t recognize this man.
“Let me take your jacket.”
His voice shook.
Masaomi stood up without a word, so Misao walked over to help him. As he was reaching for his collar, the man’s hands took strong hold of his fingers.
Misao gasped.
“Why?” Masaomi asked, his forehead wrinkling in intense pain.
“You told me you weren’t a male prostitute. I was so glad to learn that. I believed you. Why did you say that?”
“You believed?” Misao smiled as he repeated the words. But his lips began trembling instantly and he shouted. “It was all a lie!”
The tremor that ran through Masaomi’s eyes at this show of rage did not escape Misao’s notice. He glared into those eyes and tore open his kimono with one hand.
He was practically in tears.
“Katsuragi said he paid, but he meant he bought this kimono. He never told you he paid for my body, did he? So why did you think that’s what he meant? Huh? Why? Do you even know?”
Masaomi sucked in a breath and Misao knew he was holding it in.
He awkwardly released his grip on Misao’s wrists.
He was sad.
The wail of his heart came quietly to his lips.
“Because that’s what you thought I was.”
Masaomi’s thin eyelids finally broke his gaze on Misao as they fell over his eyes. He hung his head. After a long sigh, Masaomi shook his head weakly and put a hand to his head. He sat back down at the window.
“You’re right. I thought I wouldn’t care even if you were a prostitute. But”
Masaomi raised his head to look at Misao. His lips quirked sadly.
“When I was actually confronted with the idea, I just couldn’t think straight anymore. I’m sorry.”
Misao pushed back his tears and stared at Masaomi for several seconds, then the tension suddenly broke inside him and he laughed sadly.
“You almost sounded like you were jealous.”
As Misao realized what it meant to truly be on the brink of tears, he whispered his forgiveness to Masaomi.
He wasn’t going to lecture him anymore. He just wanted to laugh about it and forget it. But Masaomi nodded seriously.
“Yes. Iwasjealous.”
Misao’s mouth fell open slightly.
He felt as if he might sink to the floor.
What was this man telling him?
A faint, breathy voice passed his lips. “Are you just trying to trick me, Masaomi?”
“What?”
Misao smiled ruefully at the perplexed expression on Masaomi’s face.
“You’re very good at making me dream,” he whispered. He sat at Masaomi’s feet.
“Dream?” Masaomi repeated, taking off his flocked coat. Misao started to rise to take it, but Masaomi stopped him. He folded it in half and set it on the windowsill.
“What do you dream of?”
Masaomi tilted his head, the same peaceful expression on his face as always, and leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. He seemed to be looking into Misao’s face with his entire body.
If he leaned his head forward just a little more, he would be close enough to kiss.
Why couldn’t they close such a small distance?
Even wishing for it was a dream.
Misao closed his eyes gently.
“I feel like I’m going to wake up, and all this will be a dream.”
As he spoke, he lifted his eyelids. Masaomi watched him, waiting for him to continue. His light brown eyes narrowed slightly with a smile, urging him to go on.
“If I tell you, do you promise to forget all about it?”
Masaomi took a laughing breath at Misao’s self-serious provision.
“I’ll do what needs to be done,” he agreed in amusement.
Misao gently rested his fingers on Masaomi’s right knee. He lifted his face and stretched out his neck.
The smile disappeared from Masaomi’s face.
His lips moved slightly:Mi
Then Misao’s lips covered them.
His fingers trembled slightly on Masaomi’s knee. Tremors ran through his rouged lips as well, and he meekly pulled his mouth away.
Masaomi’s glistening eyes stared at Misao wonderingly. Gazing back at him, Misao confessed the secret of his heart.
“I want to be loved.”
As he said it, loneliness cut across his heart.
“By you.”
Shock filled Masaomi’s handsome face and trapped his voice.
“More than anyone in the world.”
They stayed silent for a long moment, their eyes locked together.
The music of a samisen floated in from one of the other rooms.
Masaomi opened his mouth slowly, a complicated expression on his face.
“That’s what you dream of?”
Misao didn’t answer, and only continued to gaze at Masaomi. Finally, he slowly dropped his eyes and bowed his head. It shook from side to side.
“Please forget I told you that.”
Misao reminded him of the promise reluctantly. He lifted his fingers from Masaomi’s leg, but Masaomi took them in his hand.
“What a cruel thing to ask of me.”
His voice was fierce in this rebuke, and Misao raised his face.
Masaomi looked angry and inconsolable.
He held Misao’s delicate chin and lifted it sharply.
Confused, Misao looked up at him. Everything was in shadow.
He felt a breath on his lips.
“How can I forget that?”
There was tension in Masaomi’s voice. The man sealed his lips forcefully and Misao stopped breathing.
His mind went instantly blank.
“Mmph”
Misao felt as if he would be devoured by this kiss, that his tongue would be pulled from his mouth. A breath escaped through his nose.
An arm wrapped around the back of his neck and tilted his body backwards.
Where their lips joined, Misao’s body trembled each time that they pulled briefly apart.
His back slowly reached the floor.
He felt the kisses melting inside his mouth.
His mind grew hazy, as if he were suffocating. He couldn’t think.
Their lips separated with a wet smack. Hot breaths slipped through this slight opening and Misao’s eyes slid open.
They locked with the man’s expression, awash in masculine charm.