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 lips. 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, IKatsuragi 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, II 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.
“Ahnngh!”
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! Ahahh!”
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.