Seikou, p.9
Seikou, page 9
part #3 of Ren'Ai Rensai Series
Before Aiko could comprehend her sister’s vitriol, a thump echoed with the arrival of Junko, still in her robes.
“Ah, Ma!” Saki crossed into the living area and took their mother’s hand. “What are you doing down here? You should be resting. Do you want more soup?”
Junko hand-waved her away. “No soup, no soup! I need to walk!” She ambled to the window and surveyed the rain outside. “I hope this rain stops in time for the reunion. It would be a shame to have all those children there and have it rain on their happiness.”
Aiko’s ears perked up. “Reunion?”
Her mother turned around. “Ai-chan! What are you doing here? I thought you went home.”
“No, I stayed to help Saki clean the house.” At least with her sister there carrying some of the load, Aiko wasn’t so tired when she went to her own home. “What’s this about a reunion? Your friends?”
Both Saki and Junko exchanged wary glances before fumbling for words. There went the excuse Aiko offered them about Junko’s friends, who sometimes met up with her at onsen and fashionable restaurants. No, surely they meant a family reunion…one Aiko was not supposed to know about.
“You wouldn’t be interested in going, anyway,” Saki said. “It’s in Kanagawa Prefecture.”
“What’s wrong with me and Kanagawa?”
The place in question was only an hour away by train, and it wasn’t like Aiko had any “big responsibilities,” as her sister liked to remind her. Said sister regained her composure and shot bullets from her eyes into Aiko’s forehead. “The whole family will be there, anyone and everyone Takeuchi related. Everyone.”
Aiko grimaced. “Except me.”
“You understand.”
I embarrass them. Saki and her brood of failures and knock-uppers could go, and their older sister with alcohol on her breath and a new husband could go…but not Aiko, who not only had no children or even a successful job to speak of, but stained the entire family with the announcement she had married a woman. Of course the disdain was mutual between the Takeuchi clan and Reina, but a reunion was a reunion.
“It can’t be helped.” Junko tossed her hand into the air and wandered away from the window. “Let her come if she wants. She is, I suppose, my daughter.” The last word came out as a shudder, in case Aiko missed the disappointment from the last twenty years.
But Saki wasn’t going to let it rest. “Fine. I’ll send you the information. But you will not bring that friend of yours.”
Hackles rose. “That friend you refer to is my spouse! I know you don’t have any respect for her, but at least try to have some common decency in regard for her!”
“What’s this?” Junko pushed past her daughters and approached the shelf by the television. “I don’t remember this picture being here before.”
Oh no, not now. Aiko attempted to intercept her mother’s view of the picture on the shelf, but failed when Junko’s face paled and curses flew out of Saki’s mouth.
Aiko knew what would happen: disbelief, chastising, and probably even a thrown frame or two. Saki looked to let loose another “fantasy” spiel. Instead of submitting herself to her mother and sister’s vapid hatred, Aiko gathered her things and stomped out of the house before she heard the entirety of, “Kora! Who let this she-man onto my family’s shelf?” Aiko refused to show any emotion as she walked down her family’s street, chin up. She could cry when she got home.
“Jya, how about this one?”
Reina glanced at the paper in Aiko’s hands and went back to her tea and carrot cake. “I don’t care which one we do. You pick.”
A tinge of frustration colored Aiko’s face before returning to Dr. Katou’s “Trust and Relationship Building Questions.” Their next appointment was that upcoming Saturday, and it was advantageous for them to actually start their home therapy at some point. But with Reina always working and Aiko always fending off her family’s scorn, life had not convened in an auspicious manner. That Sunday was the first time they could sit together and talk about it. Now with tea and some chocolate in their bodies, she hoped they could tackle Dr. Katou’s suggestions, even if it was one bullet point at a time.
“Are you sure you don’t want to look?” Aiko attempted to hand the paper to Reina, who shook her head and leaned her elbow against the table. Poor Reina. She had worked the day before, and although working weekends wasn’t abnormal for Reina’s job, she pulled overtime as well. All of her energy had gone to staying awake at work, eating, showering, and a couple languid rounds in bed.
Reina ran her tiny fork over her lips. “I probably dislike all the suggestions and questions the same. Like I said, you pick.”
“All right.” One topic stood out from the rest, at least. “‘Discuss with your partner an unacted sexual fantasy.’” She let the words sink into Reina before pinching her in the side.
“Hm? Oh.” Reina took a sip of her tea. “An unacted sexual fantasy? You should start that one. It’ll take me a while to come up with something I haven’t done before.”
“And you think it won’t take me a while too?” Considering their long and eventful love life, there wasn’t much left Aiko wanted to try but hadn’t the opportunity to. She supposed most people answered that with some form of a threesome or another partner, but Aiko could no longer count those experiences on both her hands. When she thought of what she had experienced with Reina – group sex, public sex, multiple positions, light role-playing, toys – it seemed she would never come up with answers. Until, of course, she remembered the night they once went to a sexual kinbaku show in Ni-chome. While it was a solo show, with the performer wrapping herself in multiple hemp ropes, and, of course, getting off on them, Aiko had admired the skill and artistry…and the way it made her wet enough for a quick session with Reina in the restrooms.
A chuckle sauntered into Aiko’s ear. “I know that look,” Reina said, dropping her voice. “You’re fantasizing. About me, I hope.”
Aiko blinked away the image of a woman suspended from the ceiling in a swathe of ropes. “Saa, I guess I might like to try…”
“Yes?”
Blush covered Aiko’s cheeks. I can’t tell my own spouse my fantasies? But she usually did the fantasizing and acting out on their behalf, not the other way around. The closest they came to enacting a fantasy she originally had was when they watched pornography together.
“Shibari,” she squeaked.
She expected Reina to guffaw or become offended at the notion, but she merely plucked the tiny hairs on her chin. I know that look, too. Aiko drew her legs beneath her. Now she’s the one fantasizing.
“Shibari kana…” Reina cocked her head in her wife’s direction. “I’m not talented at knots, I’m afraid.”
“Well, it doesn’t have to be shibari. There are other ways to bring out the same effect.” Reina had a small pile of neckties in one of her drawers after all.
Reina considered the table a bit longer. “Ehh, when did you get so kinky, Ai-chan?”
“Kinky? Is it kinky to maybe be blindfolded and tied up once in a while?”
“I would say so, yes.”
“Hmph.” Aiko crossed out their discussion topic from the list. “Are you complaining about me being kinky?”
“Not at all.”
The pen clattered to the table; Aiko took a sip of her cooling tea. “Jya, so what about you? Have you thought of something yet?” The only thing Aiko could come up with on Reina’s behalf was the impossible…like sex with a man.
“Hmm.” Reina’s head wandered back and forth, as if she were considering a vacation destination as opposed to what kind of wild sex she wanted to have next.
Aiko decided to help. “So? What is it?” She stifled a snicker. “BDSM?”
Reina gave a start. “BDSM? No way!”
Laughter choked inside Aiko’s throat. “So what, then? Anal?”
“Stop!”
“Aw, you don’t like anal?”
Reina was bent halfway down, clutching her stomach and dancing between laughing and gagging. “No! It’s awful!”
“Too bad.” Aiko patted her spouse on the shoulder. “I was looking forward to pegging you in the ass, too.”
Once the teasing subsided, Reina slammed back the last of her tea and shook her head. “Well, I guess there is one thing I might be interested in trying… sometime… someday. But not today. No, not today.”
“Oh? What is it?”
Reina met her wife’s eyes for the briefest second, before…what was that? Blush? With a little gasp, Aiko braced herself for something she would never expect. Please don’t say a man. The thought was beyond ridiculous. And yet, it was the only thing she could come up with.
“Well, it would go in with my other therapy, I guess.” Reina ran her finger along the top of her teacup. “The therapist and I talked about it before you joined.”
“Y…yes?”
Reina stiffened. “It’s not something I’ve never done. In fact, I used to do it a few times when I was a teenager.” She kept her eyes on her empty teacup. “And I could only do it with you now.”
Only with me? That was as good as Reina saying “I love you.” Aiko snapped her hand out and took her spouse’s, waiting to hear the taboo and unbelievable.
Their palms squeezed together beneath Reina’s strength. “I think maybe I should try…your role. Sometime.”
That was it? No, it must be deeper than that. For Reina to act like a shy maiden over it – Reina! Of all people! – the act meant more than switching “roles” in the bedroom. “My role?” Aiko put her other hand on top of Reina’s. “We’re already trying to keep me on top once in a while.”
“No, not like that. With the other thing.” Reina looked into her lap. “That thing.”
Aiko also looked down into the opening between Reina’s crossed legs, into the nothingness where, sometimes, a bulge advertising reigning masculinity appeared. “You mean… you want me… to you?”
A hand grasped Reina’s shoulder as Aiko fought to comprehend the thought. Penetrate her? The only things she ever put into her spouse’s body were the occasional fingers, like the other night. Reina had mentioned being on the receiving end of a strap-on a time or two, which Aiko supposed accounted for the teenager comment, but it contradicted everything. She couldn’t imagine it. Well, she could, but every image in her mind ended with Reina panicking and crying again.
“Are you sure?”
“Well, like I said, not today.” Reina shrugged. “Youshi, we’ll probably tie you up first!” She jumped up with her dirty dishes and took them into the kitchen. “Ladies first and all!”
Aiko remained at the table, still too shocked to move or speak.
Usually when Reina went to work wearing her favorite “accessory,” she took into account the amount of movement she would have to do that day. Of course she could not anticipate what would happen when her office turned into a typhoon and the section chief decided all the women had to step up and be secretaries for a day.
Hanawa took it in stride, granted it was her actual job and all. For Reina, however, it was one more bitter reminder that she was a woman, and therefore likely to become an interim secretary ahead of the younger male colleagues. Reina could have been the oldest person in the office – which she damn near was – and still be expected to suddenly run errands and return phone calls.
Her ensemble for the day was not meant for excessive movement: her pants were the baggiest ones she had to accommodate the accessory within, and her thicker blazer meant too much sweating. Is this how a man really feels? Every giant step Reina took between offices was another slap inside her pants.
She got a small reprieve when granted a break to use the restroom. The first thing she did was reorient the strap around her waist, so the phallus between her legs would nestle easier in her boxer shorts. Of all the days to want to be masculine. While Reina went out wearing a strap-on about every other week, it never caused her so much grief before – even more grief was to be had, however, when a snap got caught in her pubic hair and ripped out a few random strands. The burn left behind almost made her cry out loud enough to alert the cleaning staff.
At least it was almost lunch. Not much freedom, but it would afford Reina the chance to rest her legs and reacquaint herself with how to move with a fake penis.
Great idea, until she walked back into her office and got the horror of the week.
With her usual entourage of four old men plus one younger stud, Mrs. Sakamoto turned from the section chief and beamed in Reina’s direction. “Ah, she’ll do!” Her voice rang like a bird’s as it flew into a window.
“But, ma’am, there are much higher ranking staff members here who would be more helpful…”
“She’s the most senior woman, isn’t she?” Mrs. Sakamoto scoffed. “She’s perfect.”
Before Reina could ponder what she had been volunteered for, Mrs. Sakamoto waltzed up in her white pantsuit with dangling gold earrings, and stiletto heels creating tiny indents in the carpet. Behind her, the section chief signaled for Reina to go along with whatever was asked. The entourage of men flanked Mrs. Sakamoto.
“Come, Yamada-san, we shall have lunch together, my treat. I want you to tell me all about the wonders and pratfalls of being a woman in a man’s world.”
The young man grasped Reina’s arm and attempted to show her out the door. “Wh…what?” Her gut reaction to jam her knee into the man’s stomach probably wouldn’t have gone over well. No man touches me like that.
“Oh, it’s so sudden, isn’t it?” Mrs. Sakamoto laughed as they entered the elevator. Wait, when did we get to the elevator? The amount of people jamming in both behind and in front of the women made Reina graze with claustrophobia. Once the doors closed and they lurched downwards, Mrs. Sakamoto changed her tone. “It’s ridiculous that they make you do all those belittling errands when there’s plenty of kouhai to do it for you.”
Reina didn’t dare say anything.
“Are you hungry? I’m famished. There’s a restaurant nearby that serves decent entrees. Verona, do you know it?”
A slight nod was all Reina would offer. She was acquainted with the posh Italian eatery, considering she and Aiko went there for their anniversary a year before. The same place Nakamura had seen them together and tried to not-so-subtly blackmail Reina over.
The elevator opened, and out trotted them all with Reina lagging behind. She wanted to ask what this was all about, but knew better than to come off as too vulgar in front of the late chairman’s wife. One word and Reina’s job, and any future corporate employment, was over.
The Italian restaurant was two blocks away, and Mrs. Sakamoto decided to shirk her chauffer in favor of a crisp winter’s walk with her entourage. Reina took off her ID badge before they entered the double golden-gilded doors of the restaurant, but she knew she still looked awkward wearing her baggy slacks and wrinkling blazer. The male entourage wore high-fashion suits and walked with an air of submissive dignity.
“Go away, all of you,” Mrs. Sakamoto snapped at the five men trailing her. “Yamada-san isn’t going to talk frankly with you penile lot around.”
The men all bowed in sync, their own ID tags scraping the floor like plastic leashes. They then scuttled away with the maître d' to another part of the restaurant. Reina followed Mrs. Sakamoto’s lead when she sat down at an empty table.
“Feel free to order whatever you want,” the cosmopolitan woman said. “It’s on the company.”
Reina peered through the half Italian, half Japanese katakana menu, but could not register anything. Her hands shook and her strap-on pulled against her hair again. “Forgive me, ma’am, but…”
“Oh, please. We’re big girls. You can call me Meisa.”
No I can’t! Even if Mrs. Sakamoto claimed she and Reina knew each other from years before, it still didn’t mean she could call a high stature woman by her given name. Sometimes Reina was accused of not correctly following her culture’s hierarchy of politeness, but this was an area in which she was fairly sure she knew the rules.
“Do you still not remember me?” Mrs. Sakamoto chuckled as a waiter approached their table. “That’s funny, we used to know each other fairly well years and years ago.”
She still couldn’t remember, however. As Mrs. Sakamoto ordered on both of their behalf, Reina searched her memory for any possible connection between her and the late chairman’s wife. Women came and went like a garden full of flowers, and in Reina’s world, all the roses were one solid color and all the daisies another. The only thing she had to go on was Mrs. Sakamoto’s age – she had to be at least forty, which made her a viable companion from Reina’s youth. But like flowers, she had many “companions” during the days before she met Aiko.
“Forgive me.” Reina bowed her head over the table. “I am not good with faces.” Or names. Or people.
Mrs. Sakamoto waved her hand beneath Reina’s head. “Even if you were, I doubt my face would be recognizable. I’ve had some, erm, procedures these recent years. I daresay my nose is smaller than it used to be, and my eyes are wider. You, however, look much the same, although you’ve cut your hair.”
Ah, so she is from way back then. Reina cut her long hair a year after meeting Aiko. “I also do not recognize your name, ma’am.”
“Of course you don’t! I’ve married since then.” Mrs. Sakamoto took a sip of her sparkling water, her wide, red lips leaving a tiny imprint on the glass. It had been many years since Reina kissed lips that full and colorful. Why am I thinking about that? She crossed her legs in case her phallus decided to become erect on its own. “But I would hope you could remember my given name. I do not think it was so popular back then.”
Neither was Reina’s, but that didn’t make a difference. Mrs. Sakamoto’s given name could have been Shithead and still be unmemorable. Everyone makes fun of me for being bad with names. For good reason.
Reina bowed her head again.
“Let me give you a small reminder.” Mrs. Sakamoto leaned across the table. Her dark hair pulled back into a tight bun showed light roots, and no amount of make-up could cover the tiny crow’s feet growing at the corner of her eyes. Still, she was beautiful, with smooth skin and a radiant face – at least Reina would have no qualms sleeping with her under other circumstances. “Summer of ‘92? Niji Matsuri?”
