Like Vines We Intertwined, 3/4
Like Vines We Intertwined, 3/4
It's June and the block party on Azalea Way is ready to begin. The street's been blocked off with police assistance, and children run up and down the block chasing each other with water pistols. Igarashi-san and his wife are mingling with the crowd, shaking hands and sampling hors d'oeuvres. Keiko's spent the past week slaving away in the kitchen to perfect her chicken skewers in peanut sauce. Jun's conveniently been out late every night, resulting in four nights in a row of dinner with Sho-kun. He's been cheering her on, ensuring that her dish is perfect.
But Sho's nowhere to be seen today as Keiko stands nervously at her place in the unofficial housewives cook-off area, Jun by her side nursing a can of beer. He should be with the other men, bullshitting and complaining about the things their wives do to piss them off. Instead he's like glue, brushing his fingers to her wrists, tugging her ponytail, acting like a newlywed. There's something going on in the Sawada household, everyone's eyes seem to say, but nobody's going to say a word when Igarashi-san is out and about.
The man himself approaches the table. He's short and fat with beady eyes and thin lips. He repulses Keiko and would repulse her even if she didn't already know he was a despicable person. But she allows him to shake her hand, and Jun pounces on the opportunity, introducing himself and her and telling their neighbor what a privilege it is to work for Higashimaru. And what a privilege it'll be, Jun doesn't say, to see his ass in a jail cell for the rest of his life after profiteering on the suffering of others for decades.
Igarashi's wife picks up a skewer a bit dubiously, and Keiko politely holds out a napkin. The woman takes the tiniest of nibbles and offers Keiko a tiny smile. "Charming," she says before handing the skewer to her husband. Who then gnashes at it with his teeth, the sauce coating his mouth.
"Delicious," he says, looking at her tits before he shakes Jun's hand again and they depart.
"Hero of the neighborhood," Jun whispers in her ear.
"Pride of the nation," she replies.
Michiko-san is the queen bee of the block party, bringing people over to the tables to try the food, organizing an egg toss for the kids whose parents bully them into participating. Michiko-san tries Keiko's chicken and says "better luck next year, okay, Reiko-san?" to her face. But she says it with that simpering smile that means Keiko shouldn't take offense.
Jun sips his beer. "I don't know how you put up with this every day," he admits.
The day continues, and prizes are awarded for best appetizer and best dessert (neither of the awards going to Keiko) as well as for loveliest garden (also not to Keiko). She's not the least bit disappointed.
"Where's Sho?" she finally asks while she and Jun watch a few neighborhood kids bounce around noisily in one of those inflatable castles.
"At home." Jun wiggles his phone. "I texted him an hour ago, he's been there all day."
Trapped inside while the neighborhood celebrates itself. She wants to go to him, and Jun seems to be in agreement. "I'm bored," Jun says. "I'm going to sneak out."
"It's not sneaking if you tell me."
"It's sneaking if one of your gossip-loving friends sees me pulling away in the car without you in it." He pauses. "Or if I tell Sho to watch you, that I've got somewhere else to be."
Keiko sighs. There are eyes everywhere. Who knows what they'll think? Somehow Keiko will be to blame, she just knows it. "I don't like this plan."
He puts an arm around her, in plain sight, and she doesn't dare remove it. "Then tell him I'm cheating on you, and you just don't know what to do. You found messages on my phone."
"You think it's time for that?" Is Sho ready for her to come looking for answers?
"You did look at those pictures you took of his bathroom, right? You need to get in there again."
They hold hands and head for home as the sun sets. Of course the block party's only getting started. There's a DJ hired to spin tunes for the younger couples, and there's going to be some small fireworks and sparklers for the kids. Jun leaves, backing out of the carport and heads down the block, driving around the wooden barrier that blocks off traffic.
She knows that even if nobody at the block party saw it, Sakurai Sho probably did. She paces her living room for a good half an hour, waiting for complete dark. At the first sound of firecrackers, Keiko hurries out of the house and around to Sho's, banging on his door in barely contained hysterics.
Kids are running down the street trying to fling their lit sparklers at each other when Sho opens the door in a low-cut v-neck and sweatpants. "Reiko-san," he says in surprise, quickly taking in the situation. "Inside, hurry."
His door shuts, and she shakes. Half of it's acting, the rest is her nerves. They knot in her stomach, all the lies upon lies. Umeko-san's portrait on the altar, and Sho's concerned eyes. Knowing that this time Jun may actually go out and sleep with some woman to make the lie stronger, if he hasn't been doing so all this time he's been fucking her too. She's still lying to Sho. She's a liar. A fake. The worst human being.
She breaks down, collapsing in a sad little heap in his genkan, and all he can do is crouch down beside her, wrapping one of his strong, reliable arms around her while she cries. "Reiko-san, what is it? Tell me what's wrong..."
She can hear his enormous TV blaring. All his curtains are drawn, blocking out the celebration in the streets. She tries to regain her composure, knowing she's gone overboard. He gets her to her feet, helps her out of her sandals and brings her to his couch. He sits her down and begs her to wait, he'll be right back. It's one of the Lord of the Rings movies, and she watches a massive battle through bleary eyes.
He returns with a box of tissue and a glass of water. He doesn't join her on the couch. Instead he kneels on the floor before her, hands on his thighs, waiting for her to explain. So she feeds him the lies, about Shin going out so often, about the mysterious phone calls at odd hours of the night, the perfume on his clothing that she doesn't recognize.
"I must be going mad, Sakurai-san," she says, blowing her nose, knowing full well that she's never looked more unattractive in her life. Here's the real test for Sho-san, seeing her at her lowest (but this isn't her lowest, Keiko knows, her lowest is the day he learns of the mask she wears every second she's in front of him). "I must be going crazy."
Sakurai has two choices - he tells her she's crazy or he tells her she's absolutely right. Neither are appealing, and he seems to be weighing these two options. His hands are fisted in the fabric of those crappy sweatpants, his beautiful brown eyes never more serious than they are right now.
"Reiko-san," he mutters quietly, and she knows he wants to take her hand. Wants to squeeze it and tell her he's here for her. Because he's a good man, a good person, and he'd never lie to her. Not ever.
"I like Shin-kun," he says, "but I must admit to you that I don't like everything about him. And in particular..."
Sho speaks without stopping for nearly ten minutes, detailing all the phone calls Jun takes at work, the secretaries he flirts with relentlessly, the wink-wink manner he has when he asks Sho to keep her company. He apologizes with tears in his eyes for not telling her immediately, but he had no idea how.
"I can't bear to see you hurt. I can't bear to see the way he's hurting you," he says and finally his hand moves, takes one of hers. "I don't know how to help you, but let me help you."
"He's my husband," she says, dabbing at her eyes. "Perhaps if I'd done something more to keep him..."
"No," Sho says insistently, and if she wasn't in the middle of the biggest lie of her life, she'd swoon. "No, this isn't your fault at all. If you were mine I'd never let you go..."
She pulls her hand back in genuine surprise. All those dinners, all those nights forcing him to talk about her "husband." All the smiles she saves for him, the little looks and lies that are for Sho alone. He's in love with her. He's actually in love with her.
"Sho-kun," she whispers, eyes wide. He's not in love with her, Keiko has to remind herself. He's in love with the lie she's constructed.
He backs away awkwardly, bumping his shin on the table hard enough to make her wince. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that..."
He grabs the remote, turns the dvd off, lets out a frustrated little noise.
She blows her nose, stares up at him. She'd love him too, if she deserved him at all. She doesn't deserve him. But Jun's off god knows where doing god knows what, and this is her chance to shine. She gets to her feet and walks over to him. I'm sorry, Umeko-san, Keiko thinks as she wraps her arms around Sho's middle and buries her face in his chest.
Unable to do anything but wrap his arms around her, Sho does so, leaning his chin on top of her head. "What can I do to help you? Do you want me to confront him? Do you think you want a...a...divorce?"
She shakes her head at all of these things. "I want him to love me again. Like he used to. But he won't. He won't ever again."
"I could make him leave the house. I'm sure I could..."
"No," she whimpers. "No, just...Sho-kun, I need you..."
She tightens her grip on him, and if there was ever the right time for an inappropriate erection, it's now, and in her heart Keiko feels great shame. Sho tries to let her go, horrified at his body's involuntary reaction to her closeness, her need for him. "Reiko-san," he says, voice trembling. He's been alone so long, and she's turning to putty in his hands. She's terrible, she's terrible, she's terrible. How has this become their assignment? What does this have to do with getting equipment rigged up in his bathroom? Why doesn't she march right outside and punch Igarashi Shinya in his face?
He forcibly pushes her back, frustration written plainly on his face. He wants her. This is his chance, and he wants her. Rebel, Sakurai Sho, she begs him. Rebel and take what you want. Would Jun, if their roles were reversed? Would Jun take advantage of a crying, desperate woman?
Sho shakes his head. "You shouldn't have to put up with this," he grits out, crossing his arms. So stoic in his refusal. "Are you sure you don't want me to say anything to Shin?"
She lowers her head, hair falling in her face. "No. No, I just think I need someone to talk to. Until I'm strong enough to end it, confront him myself. I just need someone on my side."
The door's open, and Sho can close it if he wants. He can wash his hands of the whole Sawada marriage mess, ignore his feelings, ignore his heart. It's what Keiko almost wishes he'd do, if only so they'd have to find another way to get to Igarashi. To scrap this farce before they break Sho any further.
"Whatever you need, I'm here for you," he says uneasily, so unsure of what he might actually be agreeing to.
She nods. "I should go..."
He walks her to the door. There's a loud boom as some of the noisier fireworks are set off, and she clings to his arm. Their eyes meet, and she can see how much he's struggling within himself. What's going on in that head of his? How much of it is loyalty to a woman he's lost? How much of it is his anger at Sawada Shin and his longing for his technically untouchable wife?
She gets her shoes on and kisses his cheek before he can react, slipping out and into the darkness. Somehow Keiko isn't even surprised when Jun doesn't come home that night.
--
The next time he's over for dinner, Sho slips her a silver key attached to a Gundam keychain. "To my house," he says gently. "If you feel the need to get out of here. I know what it might look like to the neighbors but..."
It doesn't take much acting for the tears to fall, and she clutches the key in her fist. Here's the solution, the answer to her prayers. She can get into his place and set up everything and not have to take advantage of his kindness any further. He's opening his home and his heart, and she could kiss him. Instead, she gives him an extra slice of cake and when she gives him a friendly kiss good night at the door, she aims closer to his mouth than his cheek.
When Jun gets home, he nearly jumps for joy, waving the key around. "What did you do? What the fuck did you do to him? And why haven't you done it to me?"
His humor seems grossly out of place, and she tells him the truth. That Sakurai Sho is in love with her and would do anything for her. Jun seems genuinely surprised, and his celebrating comes to a screeching halt. "So...you didn't sleep with him?"
"No!" she says angrily.
"I thought he'd sleep with you for revenge or something." Jun's bravado crumbles a bit. "I've been rubbing it in his face, you know. I've been a complete and utter bastard. Showing him pictures on my phone..."
She wants to see, and he reluctantly shows her. Black hair, brown hair, black hair, something close to red. One for every day of the week, winking naughtily at the camera and flashing a peace sign. How many have ended in a simple kiss? Maybe a handjob? How many have been something more? In one photo, there's not even a face, just a girl with her skirt up and no panties, fingering herself for Jun's pleasure. She closes the phone and holds it out for him to take back. There's no point in being angry with him.
"You don't know him at all," she says with a sigh. "He wants to defend my honor. He's old-fashioned. And you show him your conquests like you're partners in crime."
"I'm not..." he starts to protest. "Keiko, this isn't me. This isn't who I am, this is what I have to do..."
"Is it? Those girls are really part of the plan? You had to take it this far?"
It's no longer simple jealousy. She's disappointed in him, in how he's let this stupid assignment twist him as it's twisted her. Playing everyone false, they've lost themselves. Both of them.
"Stay out tomorrow night, have your fun," she tells him. "I'll do it tomorrow, plant the equipment, and we can start monitoring feeds on Igarashi."
He moves closer, and he seems genuinely ashamed of himself. "Keiko..."
"I'm serious. You'll need to be in every night. We'll have to monitor Igarashi's house in shifts, and you know it. I think your affair needs to come to a close for now." He's even closer, his eyes pained. He wants a sympathy fuck. "Jun, I'm not going to..."
He laughs, looking down at his feet. "I'm proud of you, for what it's worth. Putting up with this, all of this. With me. Doing everything about Sakurai yourself. I guess I've been angry that you've found a way when everything I did didn't work. I've done wrong by you, and I'm sorry. The reason we're cracking this case is you. One hundred percent you, and our report's going to say that. I'm so sorry."
They'll sleep in separate beds tonight, but she does allow him to lean down and kiss her. For all that he's just praised her professionally, he's always been more interested in her personally. She realizes that she's missed the taste of him, the feeling of his long, lean body pressed against hers. She savors him, lets her tongue explore his mouth, takes from him what he's taken from her and finally pushes him back. She doubts that she'll ever stop wanting Matsumoto Jun, not with the way he looks at her sometimes. But right now...right now it's Jun she wants but Sho she needs.
She heads upstairs for a bath, but not before jokingly leaving a box of tissue on Jun's pillow. His laugh when he finds it echoes through the quiet house, and she knows they're seeing eye to eye again.
--
So even though her professional and personal relationship with Jun seems to be repaired for now, Shin and Reiko's problems remain. Jun makes a point of asking Sho to lie to her, say he's going to a meeting overnight in Tokyo. Which Sho reports to her via text at midday, asking her what she wants him to do. She could go over now, get things set up and leave.
"Can I stay over?" she sends back, deciding not to do any breaking and entering in the middle of the hot summer day. "I don't want to be alone in the house tonight."
It takes a good half hour before Sho replies back with "whatever you need, Reiko." No Reiko-san. Just Reiko. Sawada Shin is about to push Sho over the edge. Maybe Sawada Reiko will push him first.
She packs an overnight bag, lining the bottom with all the equipment she'll need. She and Jun have practiced the installation in their own bathroom several times, having planned for their first opportunity in Sho's house. She can do it all in five minutes, six tops. He won't notice it if she sets things up right. Much of it will be outside, stuck against the side of the window frame, the camera small enough to maybe be mistaken for a spider. And the audio patches aren't much larger. If Igarashi knows to look, he'd find them, but how would he know?
Sakurai arrives home from work around 7:00 PM, clad in the employee soccer team jersey. Now that Sho's on the team, Jun's been skipping practice. Keiko watches him enter the house, cleats flung over his shoulder. He's filthy. He'll need a shower first. So she decides to be rude and tosses her bag over her shoulder and waits for the street to be as clear as it can be before she sneaks over, ringing his doorbell. She's exposed for an agonizingly long minute, a minute where anyone can see her ready to enter Sakurai Sho's house with an overnight bag, the Sawada carport completely empty.
When he pushes the door open, there's still some shampoo in his hair, and his towel's barely steady where he's tied it around his waist. Jun is broad - he boxes and swims and runs. Sho appears to lift weights, do muscle training, if the definition in his arms and abs are anything to go on. She has no complaints about either of them. He hurries her inside, clutching at his towel.
"Reiko-san, forgive me. I'll be back in a few minutes. Please, make yourself comfortable." With that he hurries up the stairs, heads back to the shower. She chuckles to herself. This seems to be the least mean thing she's done to him.
When he returns, he hasn't bothered to comb his hair. Little drops of water are falling, leaving dark splashes on his tight gray v-neck. Keiko wants to thank the inventor of the v-neck somehow, but she gathers her composure. Whatever happens between her and Sho on this oh so contrived evening matters little. Installing the equipment is the real priority.
Keiko cooks and Sho cleans up, and Sawada Shin isn't mentioned once. Instead they sit together on the couch, a one cushion barrier between them and snack on some popcorn. After a long work day and soccer practice, Sho becomes drowsy quickly, especially when the movie they choose is black and white, older than both of them added together. When he falls asleep, she leaves him, TV sending flickers of light across the living room when she switches out the light. She heads upstairs as quietly as she can, pulling her bag from the spare room (he'd bought brand new sheets for that bed recently, probably around the same time he decided to give her a key).
When she gets to the bathroom and sets down the bag, she takes a deep breath and plans everything out. There are small hand tools in the bag, a quiet drill to anchor the little camera in place. She opens the window glass, sees that the lights are off by Igarashi's. A good sign, though she only has the bathroom light to work with. Everything goes according to plan. Camera installed and rolling, sending a signal to a laptop in the third unused bedroom of her house, recording. The audio goes on, and she tests it "one, two, test one, two." When she gets home in the morning, she'll play it back to ensure that it's recording properly, enough to pick up any noise in Igarashi's place.
She closes the window, puts everything back, and she's just brushing her teeth when there's a knock at the door. "Reiko-san?"
She glances around, sees that nothing's really out of place, and she opens the door, toothbrush in hand.
"I'm so sorry to interrupt," Sho says, eyes tired but not for long as he suddenly takes in her simple t-shirt and boy shorts she's chosen for pajamas. From the Kitagawa Keiko collection, not Sawada Reiko's. He looks away. "I'm sorry..."
"What's wrong?" she says, hand over her mouth to keep from spitting toothpaste on him.
"Nothing," he blurts out. "Nothing's wrong, I...I just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed. And um, since you have a key of your own, please leave whenever you wish tomorrow. Don't wait for me if you need to get home."
She nods and he pulls the door closed.
--
It's the middle of the night, and she's hot. So hot. She kicks the covers off, sighing. She moves to the A/C unit in the corner of the room. Nothing. No hum, no air, nothing.
Her hair's plastered uncomfortably to the back of her neck, and she opens the door, discovering that it's not the unit in the room that's out. It's the power entirely. The hall's stifling, and the light switch doesn't work either. She moves to the hall window, cracks the blinds. The whole neighborhood is dark. Of course, it could be because everyone's asleep, but she doubts that's the case. The street lights are out too. The computers back at the house are not recording anything from Igarashi's, and she grumbles to herself.
She hears movement, and then Sho's door is opening. "Is the power out?" he asks.
"Seems like it."
He groans, leans against the wall. "You've gotta be kidding me, I have to work tomorrow."
"Maybe it's cooler downstairs. Let's go down there until it comes back on. Open a few windows."
He moans and complains like a little boy, but she grabs the pillows and a light blanket from the guest room, and he follows her down the stairs with pillows of his own. They stumble around in the dark, finding the living room floor. It's not much cooler down here. They dump the couch cushions, lay out the blankets over them. Sho fumbles his way to the glass, pushing open a few of the windows. There's not much of a breeze, but it's something.
She's arranged everything as best she can without any light, and she hears him coming close again. "Reiko-san, where are you? I don't want to step on you."
"I'm right here," she says, holding out a hand, moving it side to side slowly. But Sho's always been a little clumsy. He finds the coffee table instead of the little pillow and blanket fort first, and he stumbles. He lands next to her with a noisy "oof," immediately apologizing.
"Reiko-san," he complains. "I stubbed my toe. I have to work tomorrow!"
"Yes, I know, Sho-kun."
He shifts around, turning onto his back a bit roughly, enough to land one of his elbows in her side. "Ah, I'm so sorry."
"Stop moving," she chides him, moving to her side and pressing her hand to his chest. "Stay still."
And then his hand moves to keep hers in place there. She's hot and sweaty and uncomfortable. There's no comforting hum of the air conditioning, nothing but Sho's breath and hers in the dark, the odd assortment of blankets and pillows beneath them.
Keiko knows she'd hear a pin drop. Just seconds earlier he was irritable and whiny, but now it seems Sho has realized that he's lying right next to her. On the floor of course, but they're closer than they ought to be if he respects her as a married woman, hands off. She doesn't move, and neither does he for a few agonizing moments. She thinks of Jun, off wherever (and probably in a place with power and air conditioning). She thinks of Sho, his messy hair and calming smile. She wants this and knows she shouldn't, not if she has an ounce of respect for Sho. But then again, what does Sho want?
She could blurt out everything, come clean, let him hate her now rather than later. She can't. She's too much of a coward, too selfish, too willing to give in to her desires.
"Reiko-san," he says. "If I don't go back to my room, I might do something I'll regret. That we'll both regret."
"Like what?" she challenges him, feeling too burdened with clothes, with the heavy, hot air in the room.
"Reiko-san, you're married..." She laughs bitterly. "No, seriously, you are..."
I'm not, she wants to scream. I'm not I'm not I'm not.
"Get up then," she says. "Get up and leave."
When he doesn't, she waits an agonizingly long ten seconds or so before moving, climbing on top of him, a leg on either side of him, leaning down. "Reiko..."
But this time he doesn't tell her to stop. She sits there, hair falling down in her face as she hovers over his body, waiting for him. He's in a t-shirt and shorts, and she wants them gone. But patience is needed. For Sho, it's clearly been a very long time. And you know exactly why, she chides herself, even as Sho's hands move, one resting on each of her thighs. His fingers are just at the edge of her shorts.
They slide up, up her shorts to her t-shirt, tickling a bit as they move up her side, along her ribs. Eventually his hands find her face, cupping her cheeks. His fingers are a little sweaty, but then again, so is her face. She leans forward, he leans up, and it's not like anything with Jun. Or like with anyone else. His lips are so soft, and then he's kissing her, and that's all they do for several moments. He kisses her, stops. Breathes in, exhales. Then he moves again, kisses a little longer, stops. Breathes in, exhales.
They move in tandem, Sho sitting up and arranging it so she's facing him, straddling his lap. Together they lift up her t-shirt, take it off and then his mouth's on her, from her collarbone on down. She sighs when his head dips low, feeling the tickle of his hair against her bare skin as his lips close around one of her nipples. He's going so slowly, tasting her, worshiping her body with his mouth and his tongue. She gets her index finger under his chin, lifts his face and kisses him again before pulling up his own shirt, taking it off him.
She matches his earlier movements with her own mouth, hearing him groan as she kisses his muscled shoulders, his neck. She bites his collarbone, and he jumps beneath her. It only makes their bodies come into closer contact, and he's unbelievably hard, pressing against her through his shorts. She doesn't have a condom (and given her story, given her situation, she definitely shouldn't anyhow). She knows he probably doesn't have one either, and she can't risk him getting up and getting lost trying to find one.
She moves a bit, reaches between them, undoing the small button that keeps the shorts closed. All too easily she pulls his erection into her palm, and his cry is lost against her shoulder. "Reiko," he murmurs, and she's surprised he hasn't come already given his circumstances, his loneliness.
Slowly she eases his cock up and down, moving so he can kiss her. His lips tremble as she works him, and his hand finds the back of her head, fingers twisting in her hair, not seeming to mind her sweaty scalp. She remembers the fantasy she had that one night with Jun, where she lost herself completely in the idea of having them both. A selfish, foolish fantasy, and she's aching for him to be inside her, filling her, stretching her with his cock. Instead she settles for the weight of it in her hand, the way it's already growing slicker. She lightly squeezes every time her small hand finds its way to the root of him.
He's going to come and make a mess. She wants to be bad. She wants to swallow him whole and leave him clean. Keiko would, Reiko wouldn't. She doesn't deserve him. She deserves the lie, she deserves the hollowness of her fantasy. The thought of him deep inside and Jun ready to follow. She's so wet it's uncomfortable, but she can't stop jerking Sho off. She wants him. She wants Jun. Her heart's split in half, imagining one of them on either side, fighting for her. Sho interrupts her thoughts, his breathing becoming frantic, his tongue sloppy as it tries to slip back into the heat of her mouth.
Keiko fumbles for her shirt where she's left it beside her, hurries to get it in place. The abrupt change in friction has him gasping, and she can feel an ache in her own belly as his come spurts into the fabric, marking it as she strokes him through it. She can feel the shirt grow damp.
They sit there in the dark, Sho's breathing erratic for a few moments longer while she can only clutch the shirt in her hand. They jump when they hear the sudden buzz. The air conditioning and power have returned, and here they are on his living room floor.
He tries to kiss her again, but she moves away, gets off him. The first thing she does is go to the kitchen, putting the shirt in the trash. Her panties are clinging against her, and she wants them gone. But she can't. He's managed to put a light on, his eyes blinking as he adjusts, sees her walking back in topless. In the dim glow, his hair mussed, watching her, she knows she can never undo what they've done. Politely, he holds up his own t-shirt. "Please," he says, holding it out to her, and she slips it on.
The cameras and audio are rolling again.
"Can I do anything for you?" he asks sheepishly, scratching at his sweaty mop of hair.
She shakes her head. "You have to work tomorrow."
--
Sho's still in bed, air conditioning on high, when Keiko packs up her bag and her key and does a walk of shame to the house next door. Nobody's awake yet, and the neighborhood is still. The Toyota's in the driveway.
Jun.
She unlocks the door and steps back into the house. She's still wearing Sho's t-shirt, can smell his sweat on it. It's a bit early for breakfast, but Jun's in the kitchen, frying eggs and smoking. He never smokes in the house. She shuffles into the kitchen, stands by the refrigerator and watches him cook. It seems so effortless, watching him. Everything he does seems natural, even though she knows almost every second of everything he does has been rehearsed to excess at some point in time. The person he presents - the mask he wears, including the Matsumoto Jun, unfeeling jerk one. That one's definitely a lie. Carefully rehearsed.
He sighs, digging around in the cupboard for two plates. "Welcome home."
"Hi."
There's tension in him, from his neck and all the way down his back. She can see the veins in his hands as he scrapes the eggs (perfectly cooked) onto the plates. "Audio and video are rolling. As soon as the power came back on, I've been listening." He rolls his head side to side, cracks his neck a bit. "Perfectly placed, well done. We are good to go."
He turns on the sink to put out his cigarette and takes the plates to the dining room table. They eat in silence. He's so fiercely jealous that it's radiating off him in waves. And she can tell he's mad at himself for being jealous. For not letting it go. He knows that so much of this was his idea, his genius plan. Pushing her right into Sakurai's arms, pushing Sakurai's cock into her hand in the middle of the night. His anger pulses through her, electrifies her. It shouldn't, but it still does.
When they're done eating, he gets up awkwardly, holds out his hand. Giving her a chance to say no, thank you. Instead she remembers Sho's mouth, his gasps, her willfully ignored need, so she can't help but take Jun's hand. He brings her to the room he uses, pushes her onto the bed and leaves her there so he can pull a condom from the drawer. He orders her onto her hands and knees, moves her around so her face is all but mashed against the mattress, her ass in the air.
He leaves Sakurai's shirt alone but tugs her shorts and panties down, yanks them down her legs even as it nearly topples her over. She nearly comes when he drags his tongue from the base of her spine to the middle of her back. Her fingers twist in the bedsheets and she buries a scream of pleasure in the mattress when he enters her from behind without warning, bringing her body back against his hard cock. He stays there, fully inside her, doesn't move. The angle's just right, just so perfect. But still he doesn't move.
She wants to beg him, wants to beg him so she can forget, get lost a while in how good it feels. "Did he make you come? Did you let him?"
Her answer's given to the mattress. No. No, not yet. But soon. Soon I'll let him. Because you told me to.
He slides back, slowly taking himself away. Depriving her. She can only push back, needing him inside her. And when he does come back, filling her up, it's even better. Combined with the whirlwind night she's had, it's all her body seems to need. So simple a feeling, and she's coming, her body out of her control as she spasms, clenching around him enough to make him groan. It's so good, and she's unworthy of it. He fucks her because there's no other word for what it is, his fingers digging into her hips as he seems to forget the rules of the game they're playing. That what they have is different, that it doesn't matter because when the case is over they're over. We're not married. We're not anything. Jun doesn't seem to want to realize that.
Sakurai Sho's in love with her. He's all but admitted it. But what is it Jun feels for her? Not Sawada Shin. Not Matsumoto Jun, I'm just doing my job, with pictures of soft, pink twenty-year-old pussy on his phone. The Matsumoto Jun she only seems to meet when he's inside her, seeing how their bodies fit together. The Jun who can't admit out loud that it's gone too far, and he wants her to himself.
He pulls out and goes away without a word after he comes, leaving her fucked and used on the bed he sleeps in. About twenty minutes later she hears the front door open and close. She pulls the blankets over her head. The dishes need washing. The carpets need vacuuming. The garbage needs sorting. Instead Keiko sleeps.
Part Four
It's June and the block party on Azalea Way is ready to begin. The street's been blocked off with police assistance, and children run up and down the block chasing each other with water pistols. Igarashi-san and his wife are mingling with the crowd, shaking hands and sampling hors d'oeuvres. Keiko's spent the past week slaving away in the kitchen to perfect her chicken skewers in peanut sauce. Jun's conveniently been out late every night, resulting in four nights in a row of dinner with Sho-kun. He's been cheering her on, ensuring that her dish is perfect.
But Sho's nowhere to be seen today as Keiko stands nervously at her place in the unofficial housewives cook-off area, Jun by her side nursing a can of beer. He should be with the other men, bullshitting and complaining about the things their wives do to piss them off. Instead he's like glue, brushing his fingers to her wrists, tugging her ponytail, acting like a newlywed. There's something going on in the Sawada household, everyone's eyes seem to say, but nobody's going to say a word when Igarashi-san is out and about.
The man himself approaches the table. He's short and fat with beady eyes and thin lips. He repulses Keiko and would repulse her even if she didn't already know he was a despicable person. But she allows him to shake her hand, and Jun pounces on the opportunity, introducing himself and her and telling their neighbor what a privilege it is to work for Higashimaru. And what a privilege it'll be, Jun doesn't say, to see his ass in a jail cell for the rest of his life after profiteering on the suffering of others for decades.
Igarashi's wife picks up a skewer a bit dubiously, and Keiko politely holds out a napkin. The woman takes the tiniest of nibbles and offers Keiko a tiny smile. "Charming," she says before handing the skewer to her husband. Who then gnashes at it with his teeth, the sauce coating his mouth.
"Delicious," he says, looking at her tits before he shakes Jun's hand again and they depart.
"Hero of the neighborhood," Jun whispers in her ear.
"Pride of the nation," she replies.
Michiko-san is the queen bee of the block party, bringing people over to the tables to try the food, organizing an egg toss for the kids whose parents bully them into participating. Michiko-san tries Keiko's chicken and says "better luck next year, okay, Reiko-san?" to her face. But she says it with that simpering smile that means Keiko shouldn't take offense.
Jun sips his beer. "I don't know how you put up with this every day," he admits.
The day continues, and prizes are awarded for best appetizer and best dessert (neither of the awards going to Keiko) as well as for loveliest garden (also not to Keiko). She's not the least bit disappointed.
"Where's Sho?" she finally asks while she and Jun watch a few neighborhood kids bounce around noisily in one of those inflatable castles.
"At home." Jun wiggles his phone. "I texted him an hour ago, he's been there all day."
Trapped inside while the neighborhood celebrates itself. She wants to go to him, and Jun seems to be in agreement. "I'm bored," Jun says. "I'm going to sneak out."
"It's not sneaking if you tell me."
"It's sneaking if one of your gossip-loving friends sees me pulling away in the car without you in it." He pauses. "Or if I tell Sho to watch you, that I've got somewhere else to be."
Keiko sighs. There are eyes everywhere. Who knows what they'll think? Somehow Keiko will be to blame, she just knows it. "I don't like this plan."
He puts an arm around her, in plain sight, and she doesn't dare remove it. "Then tell him I'm cheating on you, and you just don't know what to do. You found messages on my phone."
"You think it's time for that?" Is Sho ready for her to come looking for answers?
"You did look at those pictures you took of his bathroom, right? You need to get in there again."
They hold hands and head for home as the sun sets. Of course the block party's only getting started. There's a DJ hired to spin tunes for the younger couples, and there's going to be some small fireworks and sparklers for the kids. Jun leaves, backing out of the carport and heads down the block, driving around the wooden barrier that blocks off traffic.
She knows that even if nobody at the block party saw it, Sakurai Sho probably did. She paces her living room for a good half an hour, waiting for complete dark. At the first sound of firecrackers, Keiko hurries out of the house and around to Sho's, banging on his door in barely contained hysterics.
Kids are running down the street trying to fling their lit sparklers at each other when Sho opens the door in a low-cut v-neck and sweatpants. "Reiko-san," he says in surprise, quickly taking in the situation. "Inside, hurry."
His door shuts, and she shakes. Half of it's acting, the rest is her nerves. They knot in her stomach, all the lies upon lies. Umeko-san's portrait on the altar, and Sho's concerned eyes. Knowing that this time Jun may actually go out and sleep with some woman to make the lie stronger, if he hasn't been doing so all this time he's been fucking her too. She's still lying to Sho. She's a liar. A fake. The worst human being.
She breaks down, collapsing in a sad little heap in his genkan, and all he can do is crouch down beside her, wrapping one of his strong, reliable arms around her while she cries. "Reiko-san, what is it? Tell me what's wrong..."
She can hear his enormous TV blaring. All his curtains are drawn, blocking out the celebration in the streets. She tries to regain her composure, knowing she's gone overboard. He gets her to her feet, helps her out of her sandals and brings her to his couch. He sits her down and begs her to wait, he'll be right back. It's one of the Lord of the Rings movies, and she watches a massive battle through bleary eyes.
He returns with a box of tissue and a glass of water. He doesn't join her on the couch. Instead he kneels on the floor before her, hands on his thighs, waiting for her to explain. So she feeds him the lies, about Shin going out so often, about the mysterious phone calls at odd hours of the night, the perfume on his clothing that she doesn't recognize.
"I must be going mad, Sakurai-san," she says, blowing her nose, knowing full well that she's never looked more unattractive in her life. Here's the real test for Sho-san, seeing her at her lowest (but this isn't her lowest, Keiko knows, her lowest is the day he learns of the mask she wears every second she's in front of him). "I must be going crazy."
Sakurai has two choices - he tells her she's crazy or he tells her she's absolutely right. Neither are appealing, and he seems to be weighing these two options. His hands are fisted in the fabric of those crappy sweatpants, his beautiful brown eyes never more serious than they are right now.
"Reiko-san," he mutters quietly, and she knows he wants to take her hand. Wants to squeeze it and tell her he's here for her. Because he's a good man, a good person, and he'd never lie to her. Not ever.
"I like Shin-kun," he says, "but I must admit to you that I don't like everything about him. And in particular..."
Sho speaks without stopping for nearly ten minutes, detailing all the phone calls Jun takes at work, the secretaries he flirts with relentlessly, the wink-wink manner he has when he asks Sho to keep her company. He apologizes with tears in his eyes for not telling her immediately, but he had no idea how.
"I can't bear to see you hurt. I can't bear to see the way he's hurting you," he says and finally his hand moves, takes one of hers. "I don't know how to help you, but let me help you."
"He's my husband," she says, dabbing at her eyes. "Perhaps if I'd done something more to keep him..."
"No," Sho says insistently, and if she wasn't in the middle of the biggest lie of her life, she'd swoon. "No, this isn't your fault at all. If you were mine I'd never let you go..."
She pulls her hand back in genuine surprise. All those dinners, all those nights forcing him to talk about her "husband." All the smiles she saves for him, the little looks and lies that are for Sho alone. He's in love with her. He's actually in love with her.
"Sho-kun," she whispers, eyes wide. He's not in love with her, Keiko has to remind herself. He's in love with the lie she's constructed.
He backs away awkwardly, bumping his shin on the table hard enough to make her wince. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that..."
He grabs the remote, turns the dvd off, lets out a frustrated little noise.
She blows her nose, stares up at him. She'd love him too, if she deserved him at all. She doesn't deserve him. But Jun's off god knows where doing god knows what, and this is her chance to shine. She gets to her feet and walks over to him. I'm sorry, Umeko-san, Keiko thinks as she wraps her arms around Sho's middle and buries her face in his chest.
Unable to do anything but wrap his arms around her, Sho does so, leaning his chin on top of her head. "What can I do to help you? Do you want me to confront him? Do you think you want a...a...divorce?"
She shakes her head at all of these things. "I want him to love me again. Like he used to. But he won't. He won't ever again."
"I could make him leave the house. I'm sure I could..."
"No," she whimpers. "No, just...Sho-kun, I need you..."
She tightens her grip on him, and if there was ever the right time for an inappropriate erection, it's now, and in her heart Keiko feels great shame. Sho tries to let her go, horrified at his body's involuntary reaction to her closeness, her need for him. "Reiko-san," he says, voice trembling. He's been alone so long, and she's turning to putty in his hands. She's terrible, she's terrible, she's terrible. How has this become their assignment? What does this have to do with getting equipment rigged up in his bathroom? Why doesn't she march right outside and punch Igarashi Shinya in his face?
He forcibly pushes her back, frustration written plainly on his face. He wants her. This is his chance, and he wants her. Rebel, Sakurai Sho, she begs him. Rebel and take what you want. Would Jun, if their roles were reversed? Would Jun take advantage of a crying, desperate woman?
Sho shakes his head. "You shouldn't have to put up with this," he grits out, crossing his arms. So stoic in his refusal. "Are you sure you don't want me to say anything to Shin?"
She lowers her head, hair falling in her face. "No. No, I just think I need someone to talk to. Until I'm strong enough to end it, confront him myself. I just need someone on my side."
The door's open, and Sho can close it if he wants. He can wash his hands of the whole Sawada marriage mess, ignore his feelings, ignore his heart. It's what Keiko almost wishes he'd do, if only so they'd have to find another way to get to Igarashi. To scrap this farce before they break Sho any further.
"Whatever you need, I'm here for you," he says uneasily, so unsure of what he might actually be agreeing to.
She nods. "I should go..."
He walks her to the door. There's a loud boom as some of the noisier fireworks are set off, and she clings to his arm. Their eyes meet, and she can see how much he's struggling within himself. What's going on in that head of his? How much of it is loyalty to a woman he's lost? How much of it is his anger at Sawada Shin and his longing for his technically untouchable wife?
She gets her shoes on and kisses his cheek before he can react, slipping out and into the darkness. Somehow Keiko isn't even surprised when Jun doesn't come home that night.
--
The next time he's over for dinner, Sho slips her a silver key attached to a Gundam keychain. "To my house," he says gently. "If you feel the need to get out of here. I know what it might look like to the neighbors but..."
It doesn't take much acting for the tears to fall, and she clutches the key in her fist. Here's the solution, the answer to her prayers. She can get into his place and set up everything and not have to take advantage of his kindness any further. He's opening his home and his heart, and she could kiss him. Instead, she gives him an extra slice of cake and when she gives him a friendly kiss good night at the door, she aims closer to his mouth than his cheek.
When Jun gets home, he nearly jumps for joy, waving the key around. "What did you do? What the fuck did you do to him? And why haven't you done it to me?"
His humor seems grossly out of place, and she tells him the truth. That Sakurai Sho is in love with her and would do anything for her. Jun seems genuinely surprised, and his celebrating comes to a screeching halt. "So...you didn't sleep with him?"
"No!" she says angrily.
"I thought he'd sleep with you for revenge or something." Jun's bravado crumbles a bit. "I've been rubbing it in his face, you know. I've been a complete and utter bastard. Showing him pictures on my phone..."
She wants to see, and he reluctantly shows her. Black hair, brown hair, black hair, something close to red. One for every day of the week, winking naughtily at the camera and flashing a peace sign. How many have ended in a simple kiss? Maybe a handjob? How many have been something more? In one photo, there's not even a face, just a girl with her skirt up and no panties, fingering herself for Jun's pleasure. She closes the phone and holds it out for him to take back. There's no point in being angry with him.
"You don't know him at all," she says with a sigh. "He wants to defend my honor. He's old-fashioned. And you show him your conquests like you're partners in crime."
"I'm not..." he starts to protest. "Keiko, this isn't me. This isn't who I am, this is what I have to do..."
"Is it? Those girls are really part of the plan? You had to take it this far?"
It's no longer simple jealousy. She's disappointed in him, in how he's let this stupid assignment twist him as it's twisted her. Playing everyone false, they've lost themselves. Both of them.
"Stay out tomorrow night, have your fun," she tells him. "I'll do it tomorrow, plant the equipment, and we can start monitoring feeds on Igarashi."
He moves closer, and he seems genuinely ashamed of himself. "Keiko..."
"I'm serious. You'll need to be in every night. We'll have to monitor Igarashi's house in shifts, and you know it. I think your affair needs to come to a close for now." He's even closer, his eyes pained. He wants a sympathy fuck. "Jun, I'm not going to..."
He laughs, looking down at his feet. "I'm proud of you, for what it's worth. Putting up with this, all of this. With me. Doing everything about Sakurai yourself. I guess I've been angry that you've found a way when everything I did didn't work. I've done wrong by you, and I'm sorry. The reason we're cracking this case is you. One hundred percent you, and our report's going to say that. I'm so sorry."
They'll sleep in separate beds tonight, but she does allow him to lean down and kiss her. For all that he's just praised her professionally, he's always been more interested in her personally. She realizes that she's missed the taste of him, the feeling of his long, lean body pressed against hers. She savors him, lets her tongue explore his mouth, takes from him what he's taken from her and finally pushes him back. She doubts that she'll ever stop wanting Matsumoto Jun, not with the way he looks at her sometimes. But right now...right now it's Jun she wants but Sho she needs.
She heads upstairs for a bath, but not before jokingly leaving a box of tissue on Jun's pillow. His laugh when he finds it echoes through the quiet house, and she knows they're seeing eye to eye again.
--
So even though her professional and personal relationship with Jun seems to be repaired for now, Shin and Reiko's problems remain. Jun makes a point of asking Sho to lie to her, say he's going to a meeting overnight in Tokyo. Which Sho reports to her via text at midday, asking her what she wants him to do. She could go over now, get things set up and leave.
"Can I stay over?" she sends back, deciding not to do any breaking and entering in the middle of the hot summer day. "I don't want to be alone in the house tonight."
It takes a good half hour before Sho replies back with "whatever you need, Reiko." No Reiko-san. Just Reiko. Sawada Shin is about to push Sho over the edge. Maybe Sawada Reiko will push him first.
She packs an overnight bag, lining the bottom with all the equipment she'll need. She and Jun have practiced the installation in their own bathroom several times, having planned for their first opportunity in Sho's house. She can do it all in five minutes, six tops. He won't notice it if she sets things up right. Much of it will be outside, stuck against the side of the window frame, the camera small enough to maybe be mistaken for a spider. And the audio patches aren't much larger. If Igarashi knows to look, he'd find them, but how would he know?
Sakurai arrives home from work around 7:00 PM, clad in the employee soccer team jersey. Now that Sho's on the team, Jun's been skipping practice. Keiko watches him enter the house, cleats flung over his shoulder. He's filthy. He'll need a shower first. So she decides to be rude and tosses her bag over her shoulder and waits for the street to be as clear as it can be before she sneaks over, ringing his doorbell. She's exposed for an agonizingly long minute, a minute where anyone can see her ready to enter Sakurai Sho's house with an overnight bag, the Sawada carport completely empty.
When he pushes the door open, there's still some shampoo in his hair, and his towel's barely steady where he's tied it around his waist. Jun is broad - he boxes and swims and runs. Sho appears to lift weights, do muscle training, if the definition in his arms and abs are anything to go on. She has no complaints about either of them. He hurries her inside, clutching at his towel.
"Reiko-san, forgive me. I'll be back in a few minutes. Please, make yourself comfortable." With that he hurries up the stairs, heads back to the shower. She chuckles to herself. This seems to be the least mean thing she's done to him.
When he returns, he hasn't bothered to comb his hair. Little drops of water are falling, leaving dark splashes on his tight gray v-neck. Keiko wants to thank the inventor of the v-neck somehow, but she gathers her composure. Whatever happens between her and Sho on this oh so contrived evening matters little. Installing the equipment is the real priority.
Keiko cooks and Sho cleans up, and Sawada Shin isn't mentioned once. Instead they sit together on the couch, a one cushion barrier between them and snack on some popcorn. After a long work day and soccer practice, Sho becomes drowsy quickly, especially when the movie they choose is black and white, older than both of them added together. When he falls asleep, she leaves him, TV sending flickers of light across the living room when she switches out the light. She heads upstairs as quietly as she can, pulling her bag from the spare room (he'd bought brand new sheets for that bed recently, probably around the same time he decided to give her a key).
When she gets to the bathroom and sets down the bag, she takes a deep breath and plans everything out. There are small hand tools in the bag, a quiet drill to anchor the little camera in place. She opens the window glass, sees that the lights are off by Igarashi's. A good sign, though she only has the bathroom light to work with. Everything goes according to plan. Camera installed and rolling, sending a signal to a laptop in the third unused bedroom of her house, recording. The audio goes on, and she tests it "one, two, test one, two." When she gets home in the morning, she'll play it back to ensure that it's recording properly, enough to pick up any noise in Igarashi's place.
She closes the window, puts everything back, and she's just brushing her teeth when there's a knock at the door. "Reiko-san?"
She glances around, sees that nothing's really out of place, and she opens the door, toothbrush in hand.
"I'm so sorry to interrupt," Sho says, eyes tired but not for long as he suddenly takes in her simple t-shirt and boy shorts she's chosen for pajamas. From the Kitagawa Keiko collection, not Sawada Reiko's. He looks away. "I'm sorry..."
"What's wrong?" she says, hand over her mouth to keep from spitting toothpaste on him.
"Nothing," he blurts out. "Nothing's wrong, I...I just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed. And um, since you have a key of your own, please leave whenever you wish tomorrow. Don't wait for me if you need to get home."
She nods and he pulls the door closed.
--
It's the middle of the night, and she's hot. So hot. She kicks the covers off, sighing. She moves to the A/C unit in the corner of the room. Nothing. No hum, no air, nothing.
Her hair's plastered uncomfortably to the back of her neck, and she opens the door, discovering that it's not the unit in the room that's out. It's the power entirely. The hall's stifling, and the light switch doesn't work either. She moves to the hall window, cracks the blinds. The whole neighborhood is dark. Of course, it could be because everyone's asleep, but she doubts that's the case. The street lights are out too. The computers back at the house are not recording anything from Igarashi's, and she grumbles to herself.
She hears movement, and then Sho's door is opening. "Is the power out?" he asks.
"Seems like it."
He groans, leans against the wall. "You've gotta be kidding me, I have to work tomorrow."
"Maybe it's cooler downstairs. Let's go down there until it comes back on. Open a few windows."
He moans and complains like a little boy, but she grabs the pillows and a light blanket from the guest room, and he follows her down the stairs with pillows of his own. They stumble around in the dark, finding the living room floor. It's not much cooler down here. They dump the couch cushions, lay out the blankets over them. Sho fumbles his way to the glass, pushing open a few of the windows. There's not much of a breeze, but it's something.
She's arranged everything as best she can without any light, and she hears him coming close again. "Reiko-san, where are you? I don't want to step on you."
"I'm right here," she says, holding out a hand, moving it side to side slowly. But Sho's always been a little clumsy. He finds the coffee table instead of the little pillow and blanket fort first, and he stumbles. He lands next to her with a noisy "oof," immediately apologizing.
"Reiko-san," he complains. "I stubbed my toe. I have to work tomorrow!"
"Yes, I know, Sho-kun."
He shifts around, turning onto his back a bit roughly, enough to land one of his elbows in her side. "Ah, I'm so sorry."
"Stop moving," she chides him, moving to her side and pressing her hand to his chest. "Stay still."
And then his hand moves to keep hers in place there. She's hot and sweaty and uncomfortable. There's no comforting hum of the air conditioning, nothing but Sho's breath and hers in the dark, the odd assortment of blankets and pillows beneath them.
Keiko knows she'd hear a pin drop. Just seconds earlier he was irritable and whiny, but now it seems Sho has realized that he's lying right next to her. On the floor of course, but they're closer than they ought to be if he respects her as a married woman, hands off. She doesn't move, and neither does he for a few agonizing moments. She thinks of Jun, off wherever (and probably in a place with power and air conditioning). She thinks of Sho, his messy hair and calming smile. She wants this and knows she shouldn't, not if she has an ounce of respect for Sho. But then again, what does Sho want?
She could blurt out everything, come clean, let him hate her now rather than later. She can't. She's too much of a coward, too selfish, too willing to give in to her desires.
"Reiko-san," he says. "If I don't go back to my room, I might do something I'll regret. That we'll both regret."
"Like what?" she challenges him, feeling too burdened with clothes, with the heavy, hot air in the room.
"Reiko-san, you're married..." She laughs bitterly. "No, seriously, you are..."
I'm not, she wants to scream. I'm not I'm not I'm not.
"Get up then," she says. "Get up and leave."
When he doesn't, she waits an agonizingly long ten seconds or so before moving, climbing on top of him, a leg on either side of him, leaning down. "Reiko..."
But this time he doesn't tell her to stop. She sits there, hair falling down in her face as she hovers over his body, waiting for him. He's in a t-shirt and shorts, and she wants them gone. But patience is needed. For Sho, it's clearly been a very long time. And you know exactly why, she chides herself, even as Sho's hands move, one resting on each of her thighs. His fingers are just at the edge of her shorts.
They slide up, up her shorts to her t-shirt, tickling a bit as they move up her side, along her ribs. Eventually his hands find her face, cupping her cheeks. His fingers are a little sweaty, but then again, so is her face. She leans forward, he leans up, and it's not like anything with Jun. Or like with anyone else. His lips are so soft, and then he's kissing her, and that's all they do for several moments. He kisses her, stops. Breathes in, exhales. Then he moves again, kisses a little longer, stops. Breathes in, exhales.
They move in tandem, Sho sitting up and arranging it so she's facing him, straddling his lap. Together they lift up her t-shirt, take it off and then his mouth's on her, from her collarbone on down. She sighs when his head dips low, feeling the tickle of his hair against her bare skin as his lips close around one of her nipples. He's going so slowly, tasting her, worshiping her body with his mouth and his tongue. She gets her index finger under his chin, lifts his face and kisses him again before pulling up his own shirt, taking it off him.
She matches his earlier movements with her own mouth, hearing him groan as she kisses his muscled shoulders, his neck. She bites his collarbone, and he jumps beneath her. It only makes their bodies come into closer contact, and he's unbelievably hard, pressing against her through his shorts. She doesn't have a condom (and given her story, given her situation, she definitely shouldn't anyhow). She knows he probably doesn't have one either, and she can't risk him getting up and getting lost trying to find one.
She moves a bit, reaches between them, undoing the small button that keeps the shorts closed. All too easily she pulls his erection into her palm, and his cry is lost against her shoulder. "Reiko," he murmurs, and she's surprised he hasn't come already given his circumstances, his loneliness.
Slowly she eases his cock up and down, moving so he can kiss her. His lips tremble as she works him, and his hand finds the back of her head, fingers twisting in her hair, not seeming to mind her sweaty scalp. She remembers the fantasy she had that one night with Jun, where she lost herself completely in the idea of having them both. A selfish, foolish fantasy, and she's aching for him to be inside her, filling her, stretching her with his cock. Instead she settles for the weight of it in her hand, the way it's already growing slicker. She lightly squeezes every time her small hand finds its way to the root of him.
He's going to come and make a mess. She wants to be bad. She wants to swallow him whole and leave him clean. Keiko would, Reiko wouldn't. She doesn't deserve him. She deserves the lie, she deserves the hollowness of her fantasy. The thought of him deep inside and Jun ready to follow. She's so wet it's uncomfortable, but she can't stop jerking Sho off. She wants him. She wants Jun. Her heart's split in half, imagining one of them on either side, fighting for her. Sho interrupts her thoughts, his breathing becoming frantic, his tongue sloppy as it tries to slip back into the heat of her mouth.
Keiko fumbles for her shirt where she's left it beside her, hurries to get it in place. The abrupt change in friction has him gasping, and she can feel an ache in her own belly as his come spurts into the fabric, marking it as she strokes him through it. She can feel the shirt grow damp.
They sit there in the dark, Sho's breathing erratic for a few moments longer while she can only clutch the shirt in her hand. They jump when they hear the sudden buzz. The air conditioning and power have returned, and here they are on his living room floor.
He tries to kiss her again, but she moves away, gets off him. The first thing she does is go to the kitchen, putting the shirt in the trash. Her panties are clinging against her, and she wants them gone. But she can't. He's managed to put a light on, his eyes blinking as he adjusts, sees her walking back in topless. In the dim glow, his hair mussed, watching her, she knows she can never undo what they've done. Politely, he holds up his own t-shirt. "Please," he says, holding it out to her, and she slips it on.
The cameras and audio are rolling again.
"Can I do anything for you?" he asks sheepishly, scratching at his sweaty mop of hair.
She shakes her head. "You have to work tomorrow."
--
Sho's still in bed, air conditioning on high, when Keiko packs up her bag and her key and does a walk of shame to the house next door. Nobody's awake yet, and the neighborhood is still. The Toyota's in the driveway.
Jun.
She unlocks the door and steps back into the house. She's still wearing Sho's t-shirt, can smell his sweat on it. It's a bit early for breakfast, but Jun's in the kitchen, frying eggs and smoking. He never smokes in the house. She shuffles into the kitchen, stands by the refrigerator and watches him cook. It seems so effortless, watching him. Everything he does seems natural, even though she knows almost every second of everything he does has been rehearsed to excess at some point in time. The person he presents - the mask he wears, including the Matsumoto Jun, unfeeling jerk one. That one's definitely a lie. Carefully rehearsed.
He sighs, digging around in the cupboard for two plates. "Welcome home."
"Hi."
There's tension in him, from his neck and all the way down his back. She can see the veins in his hands as he scrapes the eggs (perfectly cooked) onto the plates. "Audio and video are rolling. As soon as the power came back on, I've been listening." He rolls his head side to side, cracks his neck a bit. "Perfectly placed, well done. We are good to go."
He turns on the sink to put out his cigarette and takes the plates to the dining room table. They eat in silence. He's so fiercely jealous that it's radiating off him in waves. And she can tell he's mad at himself for being jealous. For not letting it go. He knows that so much of this was his idea, his genius plan. Pushing her right into Sakurai's arms, pushing Sakurai's cock into her hand in the middle of the night. His anger pulses through her, electrifies her. It shouldn't, but it still does.
When they're done eating, he gets up awkwardly, holds out his hand. Giving her a chance to say no, thank you. Instead she remembers Sho's mouth, his gasps, her willfully ignored need, so she can't help but take Jun's hand. He brings her to the room he uses, pushes her onto the bed and leaves her there so he can pull a condom from the drawer. He orders her onto her hands and knees, moves her around so her face is all but mashed against the mattress, her ass in the air.
He leaves Sakurai's shirt alone but tugs her shorts and panties down, yanks them down her legs even as it nearly topples her over. She nearly comes when he drags his tongue from the base of her spine to the middle of her back. Her fingers twist in the bedsheets and she buries a scream of pleasure in the mattress when he enters her from behind without warning, bringing her body back against his hard cock. He stays there, fully inside her, doesn't move. The angle's just right, just so perfect. But still he doesn't move.
She wants to beg him, wants to beg him so she can forget, get lost a while in how good it feels. "Did he make you come? Did you let him?"
Her answer's given to the mattress. No. No, not yet. But soon. Soon I'll let him. Because you told me to.
He slides back, slowly taking himself away. Depriving her. She can only push back, needing him inside her. And when he does come back, filling her up, it's even better. Combined with the whirlwind night she's had, it's all her body seems to need. So simple a feeling, and she's coming, her body out of her control as she spasms, clenching around him enough to make him groan. It's so good, and she's unworthy of it. He fucks her because there's no other word for what it is, his fingers digging into her hips as he seems to forget the rules of the game they're playing. That what they have is different, that it doesn't matter because when the case is over they're over. We're not married. We're not anything. Jun doesn't seem to want to realize that.
Sakurai Sho's in love with her. He's all but admitted it. But what is it Jun feels for her? Not Sawada Shin. Not Matsumoto Jun, I'm just doing my job, with pictures of soft, pink twenty-year-old pussy on his phone. The Matsumoto Jun she only seems to meet when he's inside her, seeing how their bodies fit together. The Jun who can't admit out loud that it's gone too far, and he wants her to himself.
He pulls out and goes away without a word after he comes, leaving her fucked and used on the bed he sleeps in. About twenty minutes later she hears the front door open and close. She pulls the blankets over her head. The dishes need washing. The carpets need vacuuming. The garbage needs sorting. Instead Keiko sleeps.
Part Four