Beautiful Samurai, White Tiger

Beautiful Samurai, White Tiger

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher. Beautiful Samurai, White Tiger TOP SHELF An imprint of Torquere Press Publishers PO Box 2545 Round Rock, TX 78680 Copyright © 2007 by Sedonia Guillone Cover illustration by Alessia Brio Published with permission ISBN: 978-1-60370-153-2, 1-60370-152-3 www.torquerepress.com All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. For information address Torquere Press. Inc., PO Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680. First Torquere Press Printing: September 2007 Printed in the USA

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PROLOGUE

With his eyes still closed, Yuzo rolled over to snuggle against the warmth of his lover’s body. His arms met cool sheets and empty space. He opened his eyes and threw back the covers. “What the—” A hand clamped over his mouth. Iron strength gripped Yuzo from behind, pinning his arms to his body. Yuzo thrashed and twisted but the hand over his mouth had a cloth…smelled sharp. Must…get…away… Lead filled his body. So…hard…to move… His eyelids shuttered and everything went black. Agh… When he woke up, the pain in his head was blinding. No…he was blind! Something heavy pressed on his eyelids. He opened his mouth to yell but the same pressure filled his mouth. Seconds passed before he realized his tongue was resting against the fuzz of cloth. Blindfolded. Gagged. The reality slammed through the blackness. Nande? What the hell was happening? His heart began to race and sweat erupted on his skin, heating it and whatever he was lying on. He tried to shift his body, tried to get up. More restraints squeezed his wrists and ankles. Spread eagled, bound, and…naked, except for what felt like a light sheet covering him. He was trussed up like a chicken for the slaughter. Kuso! Shit! Think, Yuzo think. He heaved several breaths around the gag and forced himself to relax. After all, a calm mind in the midst of turmoil was what Kiku had been teaching him at the Temple, wasn’t it? Kiku! He had to know by now that Yuzo was missing. He’d be searching for him. Just to wait and survive until then. Yuzo listened for sounds. The occasional honk of a car horn punctuated the quiet. The low rumble of an airplane passing over. The air smelled like fish frying in oil. Footsteps sounded from a small distance and he heard the click of a door being opened. He caught his breath, his body tensed like wires. “Yuzo, I’m sorry.” Yuzo’s blood froze. Was this possible? Was this fucking possible? He grunted and pulled against the bonds. Had his mouth been free he would have screamed. 3

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“I had to do this, Yuzo. You need to learn not to talk.”

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CHAPTER ONE

Tokuma knelt in seiza before a photograph of the man he’d loved. Seated on his heels, his palms resting on his thighs, he raised his gaze to Musashi Genjin’s face. His heart still burned for Musashi, even though so many years had passed since they’d last lain in each other’s arms, since he’d last tasted Musashi’s kiss. The photograph, taken in 1944 just before they’d gone into combat, showed Musashi at age twenty. He looked dashing, proud, and yet kind. His high cheekbones brought one’s gaze to his dark, soulful eyes. But it had been Musashi’s lips that Tokuma loved the most. Narrow yet full and soft, a shadow of beard around them. A wave of longing and grief washed through Tokuma. He had not seen his lover in nearly two years and yet, just knowing Musashi was alive, sharing the earth with him, had helped. Now, Musashi was gone, dead of a heart attack. “I miss you so,” he whispered to the photograph. He gazed at it, as if the handsome young man in the picture would answer him. “Musashi,” he continued after a long silence. “My nephew, Yuzo, is missing.” Tokuma sighed. Before Yuzo was born, Tokuma hadn’t understood Musashi’s attachment to his nephew, Toshi. Tokuma had held their bond responsible for damaging his and Musashi’s relationship, but after Yuzo was born Tokuma came to love his sister’s son fiercely, wanting to spoil and protect him the way Musashi did with Toshiro. Tokuma glanced at the newspaper on the floor beside him. Tokyo Police Catch Ronin Killer the headline read. Six months ago, when the killings had begun in East Tokyo, Musashi had told him that his nephew, Toshiro, was the detective on the case. It had been the last time Tokuma and Musashi had spoken, and Musashi had bragged of Toshiro’s great skill as a detective. Toshiro-san would be at his uncle’s funeral. Tokuma’s chest tightened painfully. How disrespectful it was to ask Toshiro-san for his help at a time like this. Would that he had somewhere else to turn. But there was no one else. He had visited the Temple of the White Tiger himself when Yuzo did not make his regular weekly visit. The priest had told him that Yuzo had gone away on his own, not wanting anyone to know his whereabouts. Tokuma did not believe the priest. Something else had happened to his beloved nephew. Maybe something terrible. Tokuma’s heart squeezed. “Musashi, you are the only one who has known Yuzo’s secret. I believe that your nephew will not judge, if he is anything like you.” He hated revealing Yuzo’s secret, but 5

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how else could anyone search for him? Yuzo’s parents didn’t even know their son was missing. Nor would they have cared, not having spoken with him in two years. Better that way. If his sister and brother-in-law had known about their son’s activities in the Temple of the White Tiger, a gay men’s hotel where the workers practiced a religion of eroticism, they would have only been ashamed and locked Yuzo up somewhere so that head-doctors could poke around in his mind, heedless of the sensitive young man's spirit. Tokuma stared at Musashi’s photograph a moment longer. “How will I endure the remainder of my years without you, my beloved Musashi?” Speaking the question out loud made his heart ache again. He closed his eyes and bowed low, hands on the tatami, his forehead touching the floor. Words would never suffice to express all that Musashi had meant to him. Tokuma straightened, resumed seiza. His gaze never left Musashi’s handsome face, his lover’s youth and beauty captured in the fading black and white photograph. Musashi would have helped him. So, he could only hope that Musashi’s nephew would do the same. *** The jeep ground along the sand. The endless, desert sunlight was blinding, making John’s eyeballs feel like they would melt out of his skull. Christmas in the Persian Gulf. What a joy. It was definitely time for some humor. He turned to Private Ganz in the driver’s seat. “Hey, Ganz.” “Yes, Sergeant?” John smiled. “You heard this one? This guy’s wife has been begging him to change a light bulb for two weeks because she can’t reach it, and he just keeps saying, ‘Who the hell do I look like, Thomas Edison?’” Ganz glanced over and John grinned back at him. “So one day he comes home and his wife tells him, ‘I told Joe next door that if he changed the light bulb for me, I’d either give him a blow job or bake him a cake.' The husband says, ‘Holy shit, you baked him a cake, right?’ And the wife answers, ‘Who the hell do I look like, Betty Crocker?’” Ganz laughed. “That was a good one, Sergeant. I’ll have to tell the wife— Bam! Blinding lights. Searing heat. John felt his body sail through the air. He hit the sand with bone-jolting impact and rolled over. He 6

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recovered himself just in time to see the jeep encased in flames.

“Dan!” John scrambled to his feet, tried to get close enough to pull Ganz out, but couldn’t. He

shielded his face from the blaze with a forearm, but not before he caught sight of the dark outline of

a human body as flames devoured it.

“No!”

“John, John, hey.” Hands on his arms shook him gently.

John opened his eyes.

Flames crackled. Orange heat blinded him, roared in his ears, devouring the jeep and his friend.

The touch on his arms remained; gradually let his mind know he’d been dreaming again.

“John.”

The gentle voice began to drown out the flames. He wasn’t alone. Cool air replaced the sweltering

heat.

He blinked. Each pass of his eyelids dispelled the dream a bit more. A beautiful face hovered in his

vision.

Toshi. Thank God.

Toshi was sitting up with him and John could feel his lover’s hands on his biceps. In the next

moment, he felt the mattress beneath him. Bed. They were in bed. He caught a glimpse of the magnificent blue silk kimono that hung on the wall opposite the bed. Toshi’s bedroom. Tokyo. Japan. Not the Gulf. John looked at his lover, comforted immediately by those dark almond-shaped eyes, the high cheekbones and full, completely kissable lips. He slumped forward, sank against Toshi’s bare chest, soaking up the comfort of Toshi’s smooth skin and musky scent. Gradually his lover’s touch chased away the hellish images. Damn it. He’d had this dream a thousand times since the Gulf War, but that didn’t matter. It always felt too fucking real. “It’s all right.” Toshi’s voice soothed him and John pressed his forehead on Toshi’s shoulder. Toshi embraced him. The quiet act of resting in his lover’s arms eased John's mind and body fully into the present. Even though they’d barely known each other a week, the other man’s touch and voice had this healing effect on him, something he’d never experienced before in his life. He’d come to Tokyo to help the police catch a serial killer and had found his soul mate in the detective. At least he hoped… Guilt stabbed him. He lifted his head from Toshi’s shoulder and pulled away. The funeral for 7

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Toshi’s uncle was later today. Musashi Genjin had let his weakening body be the vessel for capturing the killer’s spirit and had died for his trouble. “Toshi, I’m so sorry. I…have these dreams sometimes. It’s part of the whole aftershock thing.” He looked down, miserably aware of the way sweat covered his body, dampened his underarm hairs, beaded on the back of his neck and on his upper lip. “You don’t need this right now.” Toshi didn’t answer. He passed a hand over John’s brow then eased him back against the pillows, covering John’s naked body with his own. Leaning his weight on his elbows, Toshi stared down into John's face and caressed his hair with one hand. John returned his lover’s gaze, caught as always by Toshi’s beauty, the way his ebony hair framed his angular face in feathery wisps. His gaze moved downward, to the deliciously plump fullness of Toshi’s lower lip, the darkness of his light morning stubble and the flawless dusky gold of his skin. He stroked the hard, sinewy muscles of Toshi’s back, and delighted in the weight of his body against his. Toshi nudged John’s legs open with one knee and fit his body between them so that their cocks touched. His dark gaze took on a darker, hungrier look. “John, you are just what I need.” “I meant—” “Shut up, okay?” Toshi brushed a thumb across his cheek then lowered his face so that their lips almost touched. John smiled in spite of himself. “I was just going to say that waking up next to you is the second best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Toshi stirred against him. The slide of Toshi's bare cock sent sparks of delicious friction through John’s hardening erection. If it hadn’t been for the nightmare, he’d already have a full woody. He skimmed his hands down Toshi’s back, dappled his fingertips along the smooth furrow of muscle along the other man’s spine. Toshi grinned. His breath pulsed warmly onto John’s lips. “Oh, yeah? And what’s the best?” John chuckled. “I’ll show you.” He slid his hands down to the smooth skin of Toshi’s ass and squeezed. Damn, nothing had ever felt better under his hands. He gave another small squeeze, earning a sigh from his lover. “John,” Toshi whispered and slid against him again…and again, moving his hips in a slow, steady rhythm. John’s eyelids fluttered and his body melted, sank into the mattress, the nightmare forgotten. Toshi’s mouth covered his and he answered by parting his lips for the deep kiss, swirling his tongue in lazy strokes against his lover’s. Toshi’s groan vibrated into his mouth and his hips rocked faster against John’s. John felt his lover’s energy deepen, grow more raw with the craving he let loose only when they were in bed.

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Toshi’s fingertips stroked his cheeks, rasped against his morning stubble. His lover’s musky scent deepened, the chafing of his lips increased with the speed of his hips. John sighed into Toshi’s mouth, felt his body sink into the mattress. The mad surge of Toshi’s cock against his was the answer to his surrender. When Toshi pulled his mouth from their kiss, the expression in his almond-shaped eyes was feral under heavy lids. He lowered his face again and John felt the restrained nip of teeth across his lips and jaw. Damn, sweet heaven. He’d never experienced biting before, like being claimed in a wild mating ritual. With a smile, he tilted his head back to give Toshi more access to his skin. Toshi’s nibbles down the sensitive side of his throat made his whole body tingle. He slid his hands up Toshi’s back in an embrace. The movement of Toshi’s body on his made him sink deeper into the mattress. The heat of the other man’s bare skin against his warmed him right through. Making love with Toshi was perfect. A harder bite on his collarbone made his hips arch up. The friction sent wild heat through his groin. In a surge of passion, he rolled them both over, so that he was on top. Toshi’s eyes widened and his lips parted. Uh oh. “Toshi, did I do something wrong?” In the moment, he’d forgotten the deeper fears of being controlled he sensed in his lover. Toshi stared up at him a moment longer, as if deciding how to answer, then a smile curved his full, beautiful lips. “You surprised me is all.” Relief flooded John and he grinned. “Sorry.” Their gazes locked and he saw a tiny movement as Toshi wet his lips. The flicker of his tongue made John forget the discomfort. He had to kiss that mouth now. Lowering his face, he swirled his tongue against Toshi’s. Mmm, Toshi tasted so good, even first thing in the morning, a balm to his nightmare-bitten nerves. He smoothed Toshi’s hair back with one hand as he rested his open lips against Toshi’s. He used all his senses to feel Toshi’s response, not letting himself forget again. Toshi was passionate but he liked being in control. So far, so good. John tasted the delicious slide of Toshi’s tongue against his. He let his body sink a bit more onto Toshi’s. John’s mind softened and he relaxed into the kiss. This was heaven and John wondered how he’d made it through so much of his life without this man. He slid his hands out from under Toshi’s back and up his arms. God, he loved the feel of those firm muscles, that smooth, warm skin. Reaching Toshi’s hands he laced their fingers together, then rested there, watching, waiting… Toshi’s body tightened. His fingers squeezed John’s and he pushed up, his torso warm and hard, chest grazing John’s nipples. 9

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Yes. John pulled out and slipped to Toshi’s side, letting Toshi turn him onto his back again. With their fingers still interlaced, Toshi lifted their hands together and pinned them to the mattress on either side of John’s head. The movement sank him down under the delicious press of Toshi’s sleek hard body. He sure as hell didn’t mind letting Toshi take control. Toshi moaned into John’s mouth and slid their cocks together. The pleasure went deep into John’s balls and each stroke of Toshi’s cock against his brought him closer to coming. Toshi’s fingers squeezed his and he panted into John’s mouth, one hard breath with each thrust of his pelvis. The pressure built hard and fast and John couldn’t hold back. Toshi was too much. He tasted and felt incredible. One stroke. Then another. John came on Toshi’s smooth, flat stomach. With their lips still pressed together, John wilted, breathing heavily into his lover’s mouth, their hands still joined. Toshi’s skin was warm and slightly damp. John kissed him again, a lazy swirl of his tongue and the broke their kiss so he could rain kisses onto Toshi’s cheek…then his chin…then into the curve of his neck…mmm, the salty-sweetness of his lover's skin rolled on his tongue. He couldn’t get enough. He worked his way back up Toshi’s neck, nibbled his jaw and then pressed more soft kisses on his cheek before pulling their hands apart so he could embrace his lover. Toshi’s cock still pressed hard into John’s thigh, so John waited gladly for Toshi to do more of that unleashing-his-inner passion-like-a-wild-animal thing. Toshi rested on top of him, face pressed into John’s neck. He lay unnaturally quiet in John’s arms although his cock twitched against John’s skin and Toshi’s breathing was still ragged. “Hey, Toshi?” Toshi lifted up, braced his hands on the mattress and gazed down at him. “Yeah?” He pushed Toshi’s hair off his face. That was another thing that captivated him about the man. The feathery waves that framed Toshi’s face had been one of the first things he noticed when he first saw the news broadcast about the Ronin killings. He’d had been at home in the States, recovering from major psychic burn-out, but that face, surrounded by that ebony hair, had been the majority of his motivation to come out of recovery. Toshi shook his head. His troubled eyes belied the calm way he was acting. “I didn’t want to…attack you. I always seem to do that.” John stared at him. “Attack me? What are you talking about?” Toshi shrugged. To John’s surprise, a shy look stole into his eyes and John remembered the first conversation they’d had, the night Toshi had found him unconscious on the shower floor after a 10

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vision had hit him really hard. Toshi’s words had seemed to get locked up inside him, making him unable to speak. John chuckled. “I tell you what. I’ll attack you and then we’ll be even, all right? You can answer nonverbally, if you like. Just nod if that sounds good to you.” A shy smile played on Toshi’s lips and he nodded. Such an alluring combination, that shyness mixed with wild lust. John laughed again and kissed Toshi’s lips. “Get ready to be attacked.” He braced a hand on Toshi’s shoulder. Warm smooth skin over hard muscle met his touch. That alone nearly made him melt. Keeping his gaze on Toshi’s eyes, he eased Toshi onto his back again. Slight tension in Toshi’s body, though his cock seemed to like it, jutting up as intensely as before. John smiled at him. His own cock had stirred back to life, from the brush of bare, sex-warmed skin against more bare, sex-warmed skin. “How’s that so far?” Toshi’s almond-shaped eyes were wide, a strange contrast to the simmering in their brown depths. His lips were parted, breath ragged. “Good.” John leaned forward and brushed a kiss across Toshi’s lips. A ridiculous flush of satisfaction warmed his cheeks, as if he had been given special dispensation with his lover. The obvious trust caused the pleasurable flush to spread into John’s heart. He felt the movement inside him and kissed Toshi again. Toshi slid his tongue against John’s, somewhere between hungry and tentative. Toshi was in new territory and John knew it. Even though Toshi was the one person John had ever made love with who didn't swamp him with visions of his past sexual life, John could still sense these fears in him. He lifted away from their kiss and slid down Toshi’s body so he could take his lover’s delicious cock deep in his mouth. Closing his eyes, he feasted on Toshi’s cock, swirled his tongue hungrily around the plump head, teased the rim, and pushed the tip of his tongue into the tiny v indentation under the opening. Toshi’s groans resonated in John’s ears and he slid a hand into John’s hair. John closed his eyes, loving the silky skin of Toshi’s hard cock against his tongue. He squeezed Toshi’s balls in time with the rhythm of his mouth. Toshi’s hips lifted off the mattress. “John, holy shit.” His lover’s enjoyment urged him to suck faster. Toshi’s light musk scent, mixed with the tang of his own come, invaded his senses and he lost himself in the delight of Toshi’s cock. Taking him in as deep as he could, he pulled back only to lick at the pre-come seeping from the tiny hole. Toshi’s cock twitched and he groaned again, a sign that Toshi was close to ejaculating. John brushed his thumb back and forth over Toshi’s balls then slid his hand down to Toshi’s inner thigh, caressed the smooth warm skin there. He’d discovered that, for Toshi, this was an erogenous zone and made the most of it, teasing the warm skin while he sucked Toshi’s cock.

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Toshi erupted. John swallowed the warm seed greedily. The musky sweetness of it rolled pleasantly on his tongue and he swallowed every drop, suckling until Toshi’s body went limp. He let Toshi’s still-hard cock slip from his mouth and crawled back up the bed so he could put his arms around Toshi, hold him close. He loved the way Toshi looked after he came, his eyelids heavy, the ebony fringe of lashes practically hiding his dark eyes, his lips parted, moving with each heavy breath, his golden skin flushed. Damn, John felt like the luckiest guy in the whole world. He nuzzled the curve of Toshi’s neck. The musky scent of sex emanated from Toshi’s warm skin. “Thank you,” Toshi murmured. John grinned against his lover’s neck. “You’re welcome. I wasn’t going to leave you hanging.” He closed his eyes, breathed in Toshi’s aroma. With one hand, he toyed with Toshi’s hair, savored the sleek wisps with his fingertips. “Mmm, I love your hair.” “Thanks. Although -- that reminds me. I have to get it cut this morning before I collect my uncle’s belongings for the funeral. It’s getting so long I’m starting to look like an over-age bosozoku.” Toshi fell silent and buried his face in the crook of John’s neck. The way his hand wrapped around John’s shoulder and held on, conveyed Toshi’s sadness. John heart ached for Toshi. He sighed and caressed the back of Toshi’s head. He’d known Toshi’s uncle only a day, but it had been long enough to see how much Musashi Genjin had adored his nephew. The elderly man had given his life to help Toshi catch the Ronin Killer. “I’m pretty sure your uncle wouldn’t have cared if you look like a biker, as long as you’re happy.” Toshi snuggled in closer, one leg draped over John’s. His fingers tightened on John’s arm in a way that made him feel Toshi would climb inside him if he could. “You’re right. But I don’t want to get 'the glare' either.” He kissed Toshi’s head and held him. “I understand that.” Toshi had described the other day what he called 'the glare', a certain look his father gave him that made him wish he’d never been born. Whether Toshi had done something wrong or not, he’d always gotten 'the glare'. Toshi was more than certain that when he told his father he’d broken his engagement to Keiko and intended to return to the States with his gay lover, he’d get more than just that look. John sighed. It was even more complicated than that. Toshi blamed himself, of course for Musashi’s death. Toshi’s parents didn’t know what had happened, how Musashi had helped his nephew and John set a trap for the killer, but it didn’t matter He pressed another kiss into Toshi’s cheek. “Hey, you want to know one of the first things I thought about you, the day you and Natsuka picked me up at the airport?”

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Toshi looked at him. “Is it good?” He smiled. “Of course, it’s good. I thought how gorgeous your hair was.” His confession was rewarded with a smile, even though it didn’t quite reach Toshi’s eyes. “Thanks.” Toshi picked up John’s hand, lightly ran a fingertip over the pattern of tendons on the back of it. He paused and looked at John as if he were about to speak, then changed his mind. A look of sadness clouded Toshi’s eyes again and he rolled over, burying his cheek against John’s chest. John held him quietly, fingers curled into Toshi’s hair. His lover’s apprehension around his parents radiated into John’s hands. Not good. Tension crept into John’s limbs. A sense of discomfort curled inside him, poking at an invisible spot he couldn’t name, but which touched off a fear he didn’t even want to think about. Toshi’s track record with serious relationships was as spotty as his own. Toshi had had a serious four-year love affair with a man, and then left him due to family pressure. Just being with John was a great leap. Promising, yes, but John knew also, from his own experience of running scared from a guy he’d once cared about back in Indiana, that human beings often retreated when something so drastic and life-changing loomed ahead. Unfortunately, now was sure as hell not the time to discuss these things. John held Toshi closer and pressed a kiss on the top of his head, just as the phone rang. *** With a deep sigh, Toshi rolled away from the warm haven of John’s body and picked up the receiver. “Moshi moshi.” Pause. “Toshiro Genjin?” Toshi sat up and raked his hair back. He didn’t recognize the elderly male voice. “Yes, this is he.” The man on the other end cleared his throat. “Please, forgive me for calling like this. I am Tokuma Imoru, a friend of your uncle’s.” Toshi’s heart skipped. His uncle’s oldest friend, the actor who’d given Musashi the magnificent brocade kimono that was hanging on the wall opposite him and John. “Imoru-san, I know who you are. We met once long ago. It’s an honor.” Toshi could have sworn he heard the elderly man sniffle. “I am so sorry about Musashi,” Imoru went on. “He was my dearest friend. An honorable, good man.” Toshi’s heart squeezed. He leaned over and rested his forehead in his hand. He felt a touch on his shoulder and turned, meeting John’s sympathetic gaze. Of course, John had sensed what was going 13

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on. He was so glad for John’s presence in the bed with him and wondered how he’d gotten through all these years without him. “Thank you, Imoru-san. He was honorable.” Imoru paused. His silence gave Toshi the sense there was more to this call than sympathy.

“Is there something I can do for you?” The question slipped automatically from Toshi, due to all

his years in public service.

“I…I’m so sorry to call you like this.”

“It’s all right. If you’re troubled, my uncle would have wanted you to call.”

Sniffle. “Thank you, Toshiro-san. Musashi told me all about you. He was so proud of you.”

Toshi’s heart squeezed again. Musashi had always praised him generously. It was only because of

his uncle’s encouragement that Toshi had felt strong enough to pursue the career of his own choice. “Thank you. He spoke fondly of you as well.” “Oh.” Imoru-san sounded surprised but glad. “I…hope we will speak…after Musashi’s funeral.” Toshi furrowed his brow. He was certain there was more to Imoru’s phone call than simple courtesy, but he understood that the elderly man was trying to be polite rather than evasive. “Yes, of course. I will see you there...” “Aurigato, Toshiro-san.” Imoru sounded as if he were trying not to cry.

“You’re welcome. You know where the funeral home is?”

“Hai, I do.”

Toshi ended the call and rolled over. It was time to get up, but he wasn’t quite ready. Instead, he

cuddled up against John again. “That was the man who gave my uncle that kimono on the wall.”

John caressed Toshi’s shoulder. “Yeah. You told me about him. Did you know him well?”

“I only met him once, when I was thirteen. My uncle introduced us. He was very reserved and

didn’t speak much. It was an awkward meeting.” Toshi went on to describe that afternoon. His

uncle had brought him to a park where Imoru had been waiting for them. They walked and then

had tea. It had been Musashi who worked to keep the conversation alive. Toshi had been relieved

when they parted and Musashi brought Toshi home.

John pressed a kiss into Toshi’s shoulder. “I’m sorry you lost your uncle, Toshi. I’m glad I’m here

with you.”

Toshi breathed a sigh of relief. “Me too,” he murmured. He needed John at his side now. He leaned

into John and hugged him. Neither spoke; there were moments between them that needed no

words.

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After a long embrace, Toshi forced himself to pull away and threw back the covers. There was much to do before the funeral service. A haircut first and then he had to go to his uncle’s home and collect the belongings he felt Musashi would have wanted to take into the grave with him. He caught himself wishing things were different, but then thought of Tokuma Imoru’s call and stopped. Shimatta! He remembered something Musashi used to say often to him. ‘Be careful what you wish for, Toshi. Life will always give it to you.’

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CHAPTER TWO Tokyo, 1946 Tokuma could hear Musashi’s sobbing from where he stood in the hallway. He hoped the neighbors couldn’t hear his lover’s grief. No doubt they’d judge a man in tears, even one who’d been through Musashi’s nightmare. His heart squeezing in pain, Tokuma put the key in the lock only to find the apartment door ajar. He shook his head. Musashi always forgot to lock it. Locked doors reminded his lover of war. Tokuma entered the small cold-water flat he and Musashi shared. Cracks lined the plaster walls and they had only a few rickety pieces of furniture, but Tokuma didn’t care because he had Musashi with him. He set down the brown bag with the saké he’d brought for Musashi and went to find him. As he’d suspected, Musashi was in their bedroom, on the edge of their bed, his head in his hands. Tokuma knelt before Musashi and took his hands, pulling them away from his face. Tokuma squeezed Musashi’s hands while looking into his eyes, red and wet with tears. Even in grief, Musashi was a handsome man, ironic considering that Tokuma was the actor, the one whose face got him the bit parts in films and plays that earned their keep in the post-war mess that was Tokyo. “It’s all right, Musashi.” Tokuma spoke as he would to a frightened child. “I got a good part in a film today.” It was really just as a nameless extra, but it was work all the same. “A young director named Kurosawa. They say he’ll be one of the great ones some day.” He reached up and cupped Musashi’s cheek. “I’ll take care of you.” Tokuma fought back his own tears as well as the burn of righteous anger. Musashi should never have been a soldier. He was not a fighter in spite of his samurai lineage. Tokuma knew better than anyone else that Musashi was a lover. Nevertheless, Musashi had fought bravely in the war, only to be rewarded with nightmares and grief that wouldn’t leave him. Other people seemed to be getting on with their lives. Musashi’s father, a widower, had remarried not long ago, a young war widow who had recently borne him a second son. Yet here was the man’s first son, crying in a shit-hole, two-room slum apartment, unable to move on with his life because he’d been so devastated by the horrors of war. Tokuma shrugged out of his coat and sank onto the bed next to Musashi. He pulled the sobbing man into his arms as he did each day when he came home after long hours waiting in the studio for an audition. He was grateful that Musashi never resisted the comfort he offered. In the chilly apartment Musashi was wearing nothing but a white undershirt and a pair of baggy pants. His skin was cold but warmed quickly in Tokuma’s embrace, enough that Tokuma felt his lover’s body heat 16

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penetrate their layers of clothing.

The solid, compact muscles of Musashi’s back bunched and shifted under Tokuma’s hands. The

feel of them sent a shiver of lust through Tokuma’s body. His cock stirred in his pants, already

threatening to harden.

Tokuma gritted his teeth. Why couldn’t he ever just hold Musashi and comfort him without

arousal? He stroked Musashi’s back, keeping his fingertips away from the other man’s bare

shoulders. Touching Musashi’s skin would be enough to light a fire in Tokuma that only Musashi’s

naked body could quench.

Bit by bit, Musashi’s crying ebbed away and he grew still in Tokuma’s arms. Musashi lifted his

face from Tokuma’s shoulder and looked up at him. His eyes and lips were swollen from crying.

“I’m a burden to you,” he mumbled. Shame clouded his soft, dark eyes.

Tokuma cupped his cheeks again, brushed away his tears with gentle strokes of his thumbs.

“Never. Don’t think that for a second.” In spite of Tokuma's budding career as an actor, Musashi

was all that mattered to him in the world. Acting was just a way to get food and pay the rent so they

could be together. “You saved my life first, Musashi.”

Musashi had found him in the field where they were engaged with the Americans. Tokuma had

taken a bullet in the leg from an American GI; Musashi dragged him into a nearby cave where he’d

nursed Tokuma’s leg and waited with him for over twenty-four hours until their own troops found

them again.

Tokuma had never known he could fall in love with a man, but after Musashi had risked his own

life to save him, Tokuma wanted nothing else but to be with Musashi. How grateful he’d been the

day he’d discovered that his love was mutual.

While they were still in the army, Musashi hadn’t given any indication that his feelings were

reciprocated, but as soon as they’d both received their discharges, Musashi asked Tokuma to stay

with him. Shortly after finding the apartment, they’d begun sharing the bed, too.

A fresh tear rolled from Musashi’s eye, making a damp track down the plane of his cheek. He

hadn’t shaved that day and the tear got trapped in the roughness of his stubble. The sight fueled the

desire already burning in Tokuma’s body. Instead of brushing the tear away with his thumb, he

leaned forward and swept his bottom lip across Musashi’s stubble, capturing the salty moisture on

his tongue.

Tokuma tasted the droplet, let its salty flavor roll on his tongue. The tiny taste made him hungry for

more and he brushed his lips across Musashi’s mouth, one, twice, then pressed closer and slipped

his tongue between Musashi’s full lips.

As Tokuma had known he would, Musashi groaned and slid his tongue hungrily against Tokuma’s,

tasting him as if he were starving and Tokuma’s mouth was a feast. Musashi loved kissing and

even the simple brush of their lips together always set him off.

Musashi reached out and pulled him closer, large hands palming his back. His embrace was firm,

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commanding, hints of the Musashi Tokuma knew dwelt under his grief. Tokuma sighed and sank in closer to the hard strength. He opened his lips wider and his tongue met Musashi’s in a fierce dance. He slid his palms to Musashi’s bare skin now, knowing he wouldn’t have to stop. How he loved the feel of his lover’s skin, warm and smooth. His fingertips followed the lines of definition between Musashi’s shoulders and biceps as they moved. Musashi’s hands roamed over Tokuma’s back, lifted his sweater to steal underneath. Musashi's callused palms rasped eagerly over Tokuma’s bare skin, slid around to his chest, and he brushed his thumbs back and forth over Tokuma's nipples. Tokuma pulled back from their kiss and sucked in a breath at the pleasure of Musashi’s touch. Musashi lifted Tokuma’s sweater and shirt up, forcing his arms up. His lover threw the sweater aside and gazed at him. The appreciative shine in Musashi’s dark eyes made Tokuma forget his habitual self-consciousness. He’d always been thin and only recently, in the Army, had filled out. Musashi yanked off his own undershirt and Tokuma nearly melted. Musashi was an athlete, his shoulders, chest and back all rounded, flexing muscle. No matter how many times he looked at Musashi’s bare torso, the effect was always the same. Tokuma stared at him, words failing his fevered mind. Musashi pushed Tokuma back against the pillows, his lips closing again over his lover’s. The masterful way he took over reminded Tokuma that Musashi was a powerful, passionate man underneath his distraught exterior. Tokuma’s eyes fluttered closed and he gave himself over to Musashi. Sex was still new to them and the heat of desire overtook them. Musashi’s larger body covered his. “Toku,” Musashi whispered and ground their erections together. Tokuma sucked in his breath. That glorious hardness below sent sparks of heat through him each time, right through his trousers, making him grasp at the bare skin of Musashi’s back. Musashi groaned. The sound vibrated into Tokuma’s mouth. Musashi’s lips and tongue were deliciously moist and hot, and tasted of cigarettes and saké. Musashi pulled away from their kiss and looked down at him. Though still red from tears, desire simmered in Musashi’s dark eyes. His chest rose and fell heavily, and his hands fisted the pillows on either side of Tokuma’s head. “Ai shite imasu,” he whispered. Tokuma gazed up at him. “I love you, too.” Musashi ground against him, slid the hard length of his cock against Tokuma’s. The movement took Tokuma’s breath away. He tilted his head back, eyes closed and groaned. He clutched Musashi’s hips, followed his lover’s grinding movements, pleasure that made the world and all its problems melt away for a little while. Musashi leaned closer, nuzzled Tokuma’s neck, making him giggle. He couldn’t help it. Passion made Musashi playful and he relished Musashi’s moments of happiness.

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“You like that, Toku?” A glitter of mischief replaced the sadness. Tokuma nodded. “Very much.” “Good.” Musashi feathered the tip of his tongue down Tokuma’s neck, and teased a moist trail of kisses over his Adam’s apple, into the hollow of his throat. Tokuma panted under the erotic assault of the dewy hot kisses that Musashi continued across his collarbone down the center of his chest. He veered off to one side and licked across one nipple. The dark brown flesh tightened, shooting sparks of pleasure through Tokuma’s chest. He groaned. This was one of the most pleasurable spots on his body and once Musashi had discovered that, he made the most of it. Musashi bit down playfully on his nipple. Tokuma moaned again and slid his hands up Musashi’s back, fingers digging into Musashi's, smooth hair. Musashi’s lingering feast on his nipples made Tokuma’s erection strained painfully now. Tokuma clutched wildly at Musashi’s hair. “Musashi,” he whispered, breathless. “Please…I’m going to explode.” Musashi only looked up at him and grinned. Tokuma smiled back. He couldn’t help it. His lover always forgot his sadness in the heat of passion. Tokuma slid a hand out of Musashi’s hair and ran his fingertips down Musashi’s arm. The wiry muscles quivered under his touch and seemed to encourage Musashi to continue. In achingly slow motion, Musashi took hold of the waistband and eased off Tokuma’s under shorts, slowly, let the elastic rub against the sensitive skin of Tokuma’s cock. Tokuma lifted his hips, pushed his cock against Musashi’s hand. “Musashi…I beg you.” He clutched Musashi’s hands and tugged. Musashi chuckled. “All right, Toku.” Slowly, he inserted his large hands into each side and pulled Tokuma’s shorts past his hips. At last, Tokuma’s erect cock sprang free, and he almost cried out at the release, but it was shortlived. The next second, Musashi encircled Tokuma’s penis in his warm hand and began to apply pressure. Musashi grinned up at him. “Don’t worry, Toku, I’ll do everything you want.” He swiped the pad of his thumb over the head of Tokuma’s cock. Musashi leaned over, bringing Tokuma’s cock so close to Musashi’s lips that he felt Musashi’s warm breath on his hardness. Tokuma cheeks burned with shyness even though Musashi had seen him naked hundreds of times. For Tokuma, the experience was always new, always like the first time, bringing with it, all his fears and insecurities afresh. Too many times, growing up, his older brother had teased him about being small down there and strange looking all over. It had never occurred to him until recently that Hiro was jealous, not being as handsome. Whenever they were together like this, Tokuma was aware that Musashi could see every tiny detail 19

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of his most private parts: the small veins running up the length of his shaft, the reddish color, the plump, swollen head and the springy nest of hair at the base of his shaft. Even though his rational mind knew there was no problem, he could not quite dismiss the fear that Musashi would be repelled and say that Tokuma was small or funny looking, the way his brother had. Musashi cupped the length of Tokuma’s cock, gazed at it like it was a delicious meal. Tokuma caught his breath, his body stiff. His unease must have been terribly noticeable for Musashi looked up at him from under his heavy lids. “What’s the matter, Toku? Don’t you want it?” Tokuma nodded, his chest heaving. “Yes,” he breathed. “Very much. I…always feel embarrassed.” Musashi’s fingertips slid along Tokuma’s rigid length. His caress sent sparks of heat through Tokuma’s whole groin. “Don’t be,” Musashi murmured. “You’re beautiful.” Before Tokuma could answer, Musashi leaned closer, licked the head of Tokuma’s cock then took it in his mouth. Tokuma groaned as the moist heat of Musashi’s mouth swallowed his cock. The tension drained from his body a bit more with each stroke of Musashi’s lips over his hardness. His mind hazy with delight, Tokuma watched Musashi’s dark head bobbing with his movements, each slide of his hot mouth building toward the climax in Tokuma’s body. Musashi’s fingertips had stolen back over Tokuma’s balls, further, slipping into the crevice between his buttocks. Without thinking, Tokuma spread his legs, gave his lover more access. Musashi found the small opening, probed the tightness with a fingertip. Tokuma’s eyelids shuttered and he sucked in a breath. With his mouth still on Tokuma’s cock, Musashi pushed his finger in just enough to send shivers of pleasure through Tokuma’s bottom. Tokuma began to tremble, afraid he’d climax any second. Suddenly, Musashi’s mouth and finger were gone. Tokuma’s eyes flew open. He looked at Musashi, alarmed at first. He breathed a sigh of relief to see Musashi fumbling with the button of his trousers. Their gazes met. Musashi grinned at him and slowed his movements. A teasing look stole into Musashi’s eyes and he toyed with his fly, very slowly opened it wider until his cock emerged, gloriously hard and thick. Musashi rose on his knees as if giving his lover a show and pushed his pants down his strong thighs. Then he sat back and slid his pants off the rest of the way. “I want to be inside you so badly,” Musashi murmured. Fully naked now, he leaned over Tokuma and took hold of his arms. Tokuma yielded to the firm pressure. It excited him to no end the way Musashi’s commanding touch turned him over onto his stomach. His bottom and cock still tingled and he only wanted to feel Musashi’s cock buried inside him. Musashi reached for a tin of cream he used to slick his hair down. He and Tokuma had found that the stuff had other, more pleasurable uses.

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Tokuma listened to Musashi’s movements, saw him hastily drop the tin back on the nightstand. Then…ahh, the smooth coolness of Musashi’s greased fingertips slathering the stuff on his tight hole. He moaned and spread his legs wider, letting Musashi push the cream into his tight passage. Musashi’s fingertips pushed against his soft insides, stretched him open with gentle pulsing movements. Musashi hit that special spot that made his body lift. “Ooohh, Musashi!” Tokuma arched his hips, trying to work Musashi’s touch deeper inside him. But Musashi slipped his fingers out, leaving a mournful absence. He rose on his elbows and turned so he could watch Musashi put the cream on himself. Just the sight of Musashi’s hand on his own cock, palm sliding up and down his taut shaft made Tokuma weak. As he lubricated his cock, Musashi looked down at his lover, his eyelids heavy, the dark fringe of lashes practically hiding his huge eyes. Hunger simmered in his handsome features as he settled his body on top of Tokuma’s. Tokuma released a shuddering sigh. The strong heat of Musashi’s body invaded him, made everything else in the world fade away. Musashi nudged his hole then pushed. Tokuma’s breath hitched. Another push. A small pinch then, as Musashi filled him, nothing but sheer, heated pleasure. Musashi cupped Tokuma’s shoulders. The pressure of his lover anchoring himself made Tokuma sink into the mattress. Musashi pushed in deeper. Tokuma groaned. The sensation of fullness pushing upward, inside him, weakened him in the most incredible, glorious way. Musashi’s breath pulsed warmly onto his back, followed by the press of lips to the nape of his neck. Musashi pushed again, several short thrusts then one long hard one, sheathing himself deeply inside Tokuma’s tight channel. Tokuma groaned, squeezed his eyes shut as pleasure flooded his body. He thrust his hips upward, dug his knees into the mattress, body moving against Musashi’s in a rhythm that made the bedsprings creak. Tokuma was sure the neighbors all around them could hear the sounds they made as they rocked each other into bliss, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered but them, together. Musashi drove in harder, making Tokuma’s cock rub against the thin sheet. Tokuma gripped the edge of the mattress, feeling as if his body would fly away, explode with sheer ecstasy. Musashi’s cock moved inside him while the mattress underneath caressed his cock, bringing him closer to release with each second. Musashi’s lips were still pressed to his neck, his lover’s breath hot on his skin. Musashi thrust harder and faster, his fingers pressed firmly into Tokuma’s shoulders. Tokuma opened his eyes as the first spasm gripped him. He groaned, his body tightening, pushing up against Musashi. His seed pulsed hot and moist against his body, into the bedding and in his haze, he felt Musashi’s cock pulse and fill him.

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Their bodies both went limp at the same time. Musashi sagged heavily on top of Tokuma, his damp cheek resting on Tokuma’s back. Tokuma panted, wishing he could turn over and take Musashi in his arms, but his lover’s muscular body was too heavy on top of him so he was forced to rest like that, Musashi, still hard, resting deep inside him. Tokuma’s breath finally calmed and he felt his lover’s breathing grow softer, too. Still, Musashi didn’t move. Even when his cock slipped out, Musashi remained covering him, his hands tight on Tokuma’s shoulders. “Promise we’ll always be together, Toku,” Musashi whispered. His breath was warm against Tokuma’s skin. Tokuma reached up and took Musashi’s hand, laced their fingers together. Musashi’s plea always made his heart ache. They’d both been through war now and knew that there was no such thing as ‘always.’ But if Musashi wanted him to say it, he would. He’d do anything for this man. “I promise,” he whispered, even though he knew it was a promise he could never keep.

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CHAPTER THREE Tokyo, Present day “Holy shit.” Seated on the edge of his uncle’s bed, Toshi stared at the love letter in his hand. The letter was one of many in the drawer of Musashi’s bedside table. In each one, Tokuma Imoru declared his endless passion for Musashi. “Holy shit.” It was one of the first slang expressions Toshi had learned in English. Michael, his first lover used to say it and Toshi had picked up the phrase. It had amused Michael, the difficulty he’d had saying the “l” in holy, but once Toshi had mastered the language, he’d used this epithet quite frequently, since life seemed to provide ample opportunity for it. Apparently, his uncle and Tokuma Imoru had been lovers for years, and Musashi had never said a word. Toshi had known that his uncle and Tokuma had been in the war together. Was that when their love affair had begun? His heart sped up, tightening like a rock pounding at his sternum. Sweat broke out in his armpits and he breathed hard, as if he’d just sprinted. Secret. Musashi. His uncle. How the hell? He exhaled, fought for normal breath. It didn’t work. His heart seemed to resist the calming exercise. Emotions clawed him. Betrayal. Hurt. As if he’d just been pushed away by his uncle’s invisible hand reaching out from death. Musashi had known his nephew was gay for years and he’d kept this secret. “Toshi?” Toshi looked up. John stood in front of him. He’d been waiting respectfully in the living room of Musashi’s little cottage behind the Genjin family home. His blue eyes radiated concern. “I came in when I heard you curse.” Toshi held up the letter. His hand shook, making the thin paper flutter. He opened his mouth to speak but the roil of thoughts and emotions inside him prevented him from speaking. John sank down next to him and slipped the paper from Toshi’s hand. “May I?” Toshi nodded. His shoulders sagged and he stared down at his empty hands while John held the letter. Only then did it occur to him that John couldn’t read Japanese. “It’s a love letter from Imoru to my uncle. A very passionate one.”

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“Oh. Wow.” John‘s voice held a note of wonder. Another second passed. “Oh…wow.” The letter fell from his hand. Toshi looked at him. “What?” John’s cheeks colored under his tan. “I’m sorry, Toshi.” He bent down and retrieved the paper. “I didn’t…I mean…It’s a love letter. I get…images…you know.” Not now, please. “Images?” John’s blush deepened. “Yeah. You know.” Toshi hitched a small breath. No, he didn’t want to imagine Musashi and Tokuma…naked. He cleared his throat, plucked the letter from John’s hand and stared at it some more, slouching over. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t know, I take it.” John’s voice soothed him a bit. Toshi shook his head, lifted his gaze to John’s. “No. He never said anything. Not a word in all the time I knew him.” Toshi shook the photo. “But even so, John, I’m a detective and I didn’t figure it out. I knew my uncle my whole life.” He shook his head. “We spent a lot of time together. He encouraged me to be myself. I don’t get it.” He raked a hand through his hair. The edges of his sight blurred and his breathing tightened again. His gut turned and his heart pounded. The person he’d loved most in the world had been lying to him from the very first. “Hey, Toshi…” John squeezed his shoulder again, sliding his touch down Toshi’s back to rub over his jacket. “It’s all right. Even detectives can go into denial, especially about loved ones. Besides, it doesn’t mean you love him any less, right?” Toshi sighed. “Of course not.” He took another deep breath. This time, his body responded. His heartbeat slowed and the wild tingling in his limbs and brain subsided. When his hands didn’t tremble so much, he reached into the drawer and pulled out the rest of the letters and photographs. A black and white photograph on the top of the pile showed a young man dressed as a samurai. The man was extremely handsome, his face masculine, yet graceful, refined. “That’s him,” Toshi handed the photograph to John. “Tokuma Imoru.” He looked at the photograph along with John, remembering some of the things Musashi had told him about Imoru. “Imoru got parts as an extra in some of Kurosawa’s early films. I guess that was taken on the set.” Again, John’s face suddenly reddened and his breathing grew heavier. “John, are you all right?” John looked at him, his blue eyes dusky. His soft lips were slightly parted. “I was…um…receiving another one of those…impressions.” Toshi’s eyes widened. “Again?” John cleared his throat. “Well…” He looked down. “Yeah.” 24

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Toshi looked at him. His shoulders slumped again. “Damn, I was hoping maybe you’d seen something, anything that would explain why my uncle was so secretive.” John held up the photo. “Let me hold it a bit longer. Maybe something like that will come.” He reddened again. “I mean…you know what I mean.” Toshi sighed. “Yes.” He watched John slip into concentration mode, breath steady as he focused on the picture of Imoru. After several moments, John heaved a deep breath and looked up. “Many images of them together. Most of them in passion.” He closed his eyes again and the hand holding the picture trembled slightly. “They argued, too.” Toshi sighed again. “Nothing unusual about that.” John nodded. “Certainly not.” He held the photograph out. “The main thing that comes through, though, is that they adored each other. They wanted nothing so much as to be together.” Toshi glanced at John and the look he got in return seemed to confirm they both felt the same way. “Thanks, John.” John smiled. “No problem.” Toshi stared down at another photograph, this one of Musashi and Imoru standing together in their army uniforms. It was strange to look at Musashi at that age, probably about twenty-one, the same age Toshi had been when he’d been lovers with Michael at Berkley. Looking at the picture filled Toshi with an ache. He hated the fact that he’d never hear Musashi’s voice again. He neatened the pile of letters and photographs, all of which proved to be from Tokuma Imoru. Toshi was tempted to sit and read them, to learn more about the life his uncle had kept hidden, but refused to disrespect Musashi that way. “I need to find a box or something. I’m positive that my uncle would want these things with him.” John nodded. His hand still rested on Toshi’s shoulder. “Hey, Toshi, I think there might be another picture he’d want with him.” With a nod, he indicated the bedside table. Toshi looked in that direction. Another photograph in a small frame sat on the bedside table. He leaned over and picked it up. It was a picture of himself and his uncle. His father had taken the picture shortly after Toshi had returned from the United States. Musashi had an arm across Toshi’s shoulders. The older man looked very proud and happy to be with his nephew. Toshi blinked back a rush of hot tears and nodded. He had a copy of this photograph in one of his drawers at home “You’re right.” He pulled the photo out of the frame and added it to the pile to be burned when Musashi’s body was cremated. ***

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At the funeral home, Toshi recognized Tokuma Imoru immediately when his uncle’s friend -- lover -- entered the room of the funeral home where Musashi’s body had been laid out for viewing. Toshi remained in his seat near the foot of the altar in a small group that included John, his police partner Natsuka, his ex-fiancée Keiko, and their mutual friend Aoki, the man Keiko was now engaged to. In the other seats, staff from the Tokyo Edo Museum were present, as well as various people Toshi didn’t recognize but whose lives his uncle had obviously touched. Imoru’s flawless skin was still smooth and free of wrinkles in spite of his age and his thick hair, snowy white, was brushed back off his high forehead. As a young man, he’d been spectacularly handsome and Toshi could understand how Musashi had fallen in love with him. Imoru approached the altar, his watery gaze riveted on Musashi. The way he looked at Musashi, the longing that tinged his dark eyes made Toshi remember John’s reaction to holding the letter and photo. The two men had had great passion. And yet, in the last few years of Musashi’s life, it seemed they’d barely spent any time together? Why? Toshi watched Imoru reach out and set a flower on Musashi’s unmoving chest. Imoru then knelt in seiza before his lover’s body, sitting as if communing silently with Musashi. The elderly man seemed oblivious to the thirty or so other people in the room. The scene made hot tears sting Toshi’s eyes. He glanced at his parents. His father and mother, also in their seats, observed Imoru. Toshi’s father sat rock still and of course, gave Imoru 'the glare'. Mazao Genjin had never been close with his much older half-brother. Since Toshi was small, he’d had the impression that his father resented Musashi. He wondered now what part Tokuma Imoru played in his father’s resentment. Imoru began to rise. The motion pulled Toshi from his musings and he started to his feet, an impulse to help the elderly man. But before he was even halfway up, the priest came and assisted Imoru, steering him in a respectful way to a nearby chair. When Imoru was seated, the priest began chanting, the signal for the beginning of the ceremony. *** John pressed a thigh surreptitiously against Toshi’s. Direct physical contact with his lover was the only way to dull the clamoring of the dead in this place. As if the dynamics simmering between the live people in the room weren’t enough, whispers of sound whirled past John’s ears and visions of strangers he’d never seen before showing him scenes from their lives. He insinuated himself closer to Toshi, trying to appear casual as the priest continued chanting. This was the kind of thing that would happen when he was with Brett. They’d be in a store or in a movie theater and the vision would come. John would press in closer to Brett or reach for his hand. But instead of responding with comfort, the way Toshi did, Brett would give him a look, not unlike Mazao Genjin’s glare and pull away. No wonder that relationship had met its end. Toshi glanced at him and John saw the concern in his face. He leaned in slightly to John. “Are you 26

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all right? I’m going to have to go up to the coffin in a moment.” John’s insides jumped at the thought of not having physical contact with Toshi, but this was no time to tell him what was happening. He nodded. Toshi reached surreptitiously for his hand, squeezed it then released him to rise. As soon as Toshi broke contact, the impressions flooded in. Men, women, children, at work, playing, laughing, dying… John took deep breaths, head bowed to hide his distress. He remained that way, tolerating the onslaught, even trying to discern any vibrations that might cast light on the mystery of Toshi’s uncle and Tokuma Imoru, but there were too many all mushed together in his consciousness. Focus, John. It wouldn’t do to faint or have a freak out here. He yanked his gaze up. With another deep breath, he locked onto Toshi. A curl of relief whispered through him. Just looking at his lover helped. Keeping his eyes focused on Toshi, he watched him and his parents each approach Musashi’s altar and offer incense at the urn by Musashi’s coffin. When Toshi gave his offering John felt another pang for his loss and was grateful that Toshi had a friend like Natsuka, Toshi’s police partner. An older man who didn’t judge him and who treated him with kindness would hopefully soften the blow of losing his uncle and being left behind with a father like Mazao Genjin. The priest halted his chant. The other guests rose and John guessed that the ceremony was over. He filed out with Natsuka and Keiko and waited with them in the main lobby. Toshi and his parents greeted the other guests and gave them gifts of money in small envelopes, a tradition, Toshi had explained earlier, of the Japanese funeral. Even in the lobby, however, the dead still clamored for John’s attention. Of course, he couldn’t press himself close to Natsuka or Keiko for comfort and had to wait for Toshi to be free again. He only hoped that Toshi would always feel glad that he was a comfort to John and not end up resenting him, the way Brett had. *** It was time to speak with Tokuma Imoru. Toshi’s heartbeat rose slightly as he turned to his father beside him. “Father, I can’t come over to visit yet.” Mazao Genjin furrowed his brow and Toshi felt his father’s customary blend of suspicion and judgment. In moments like these it was hard to remember that this was his father’s nature and nothing personal. “Police business?” Toshi bowed his head. “Hai. I will be back as soon as possible.” He looked at his mother who nodded, a worried expression on her face. “See you soon, Mother.” Otsu Genjin nodded again, her brow furrowed. She seemed concerned for her son but would never outwardly show it. Toshi turned quickly, heart still pounding and went to retrieve John and Natsuka. He found Imoru waiting courteously off to one side and offered the elderly man a ride back to his home. 27

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Toshi introduced Imoru to Natsuka and John, helped him into the backseat and joined him so they could speak. Natsuka drove while John rode in the passenger side. “Imoru-san, when you called, I had the sense that you needed to speak to me about something important.” Toshi hadn’t meant to come out so bluntly with his observation, but he’d never been able to make polite conversation, especially after so many years on the police force. Michael used to take him to parties and try to get him to socialize, but even then he’d never been comfortable with small talk. Imoru’s eyes widened a moment and then the sadness in them deepened. He looked down, silent a few moments as they drove a long. “You are correct. I did not want to ask you at this time, but…I have no choice. I’m desperate.” Toshi’s heart squeezed. It was always disturbing to deal with people so clearly desperate for assistance, but worse now, he was finding, with the special connection to Musashi. “Whatever it is, Imoru-san, I will do whatever is in my power to help you.” Imoru looked back up at him. “My nephew,” he began, bottom lip trembling, “Yuzo, has gone missing. I need your help to find him. I…worry he’s in danger.” “How long has he been gone?” This question, too, was out before Toshi could think about it. The detective in him who hungered for justice had already clicked into place in spite of everything else. “I haven’t heard from him in eleven days. I know that’s not a long time, but we spoke at least once a week.” “Where was the last place you know he was, Imoru-san?” The elderly man looked pained. “He…was a disciple in the Temple of the White Tiger. He had been there for a long time and was still there when I spoke to him last.” Toshi recognized the name of the place. He had investigated it during his six-month long search for the Ronin Killer, as he had all religious establishments and cults. But the Temple of the White Tiger, though strange in its practices of sex to find spiritual enlightenment, also functioned simply as a hotel for gay men, and had come up legitimate. “I see. Did he seem troubled at all to you or express concern about anything when you spoke?” Imoru shook his head. “I know that he was quite content there. But…private about his activities. As long as he was happy, I didn’t pry.” Imoru looked down at his hands. “When I didn’t hear from Yuzo this past week, I went to the Temple to see him, but the priest told me that Yuzo had left and not said where he was going.” Toshi studied the elderly man’s expression. A light of certainty burned in Imoru’s eyes. “You don’t believe him? Perhaps Yuzo did go on a trip. Sometimes people do things like that.” Imoru shook his head. “Yuzo would have called me at least and told me not to worry about him.” His face darkened. “I know that he did not just leave. I know that man was not telling me the truth. 28

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That man is supposed to care about Yuzo, and yet did not seem to be busy searching for him.” “Do his parents know he’s missing?” “No, Toshiro-san. His parents…they are…ashamed of their son and have not spoken with him in a long time. And even if they did know, they wouldn’t tell the police because they are ashamed of him. I am despairing. I need to know if he’s alive or dead. I beg your forgiveness for asking this of you now.” Toshi sighed. He reached forward and touched John’s shoulder briefly. However, as he translated what Imoru had told him, Toshi felt his gut tighten. Until this moment, he hadn’t realized that he expected that John would help him. He pushed the thought away. It was one thing for the Tokyo police department to ask for John’s services. It was quite another for him, as a lover, to ask. John frowned. He glanced at the elderly man then back to Toshi. “I’ll help you search for him…that is, if you want me to.” Toshi stared at him. “Are you sure? I…wasn’t going to ask.” To his surprise, a grin curved John’s lips. “I already knew that. I want to help you, Toshi.” Relief washed through him and he stifled the urge to lean over and kiss John. He couldn’t believe how quickly John had become a partner in so many ways. Partner. Toshi glanced at Natsuka. The older man was driving, staying out of the conversation in his customary quiet, courteous way. Natsuka had a gift for blending into the background. However, while he seemed completely unobtrusive, Natsuka heard, absorbed and synthesized everything that went on around him. And he was one of the fiercest fighters one could tangle with. It was rare that a perp got away from Natsuka in a chase. Their gazes met briefly in the rearview mirror and Natsuka nodded to him. Toshi had seen the gesture many times before in the past four years, Natsuka’s silent way of saying, Whatever is needed, Toshi-san. Toshi turned to Imoru. “Imoru-san, of course I’ll help you look for your nephew.” Even if he hadn’t already been a policeman, he would have tried to help his uncle’s dear friend and lover. “Aurigato, Toshiro-san.” Tears glistened in Imoru’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, so sorry. I would not have asked you—” “It’s all right.” Toshi resisted the urge to take Imoru’s hand. Imoru had known his uncle sixty years, nearly a lifetime. Certainly, the loss was no less agonizing for him. What he didn’t say to Imoru was his selfish reason for taking the case, for the time it bought him before he had to confront his father about breaking his engagement to Keiko. Clearing his throat, he slipped back into police mode. “Imoru-san, I need you to tell me about your nephew. Everything you can reveal will help us find him.” 29

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***

Natsuka glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Imoru look down at his hands. The elderly man’s shoulders stooped as if he carried the weight of many people’s grief. “Yuzo was never happy at home,” Imoru began in a soft voice. “His parents are very stern people. They always demanded perfection from him.” Not so unusual, Natsuka mused. He listened to Toshi translate the elderly man’s words for John Holmes. English was a strange babble to him, punctuated by a familiar-sounding word here and there that had been adopted by Japanese. He glanced at John Holmes and saw the concentration in the man’s face. He had a look about him that made it seem as if he absorbed words like a sponge and made them his own. Probably because of his special ability. Natsuka had been skeptical about psychics when John Holmes had been brought from the States, but after the Ronin Killer case, he’d had to admit that the short white man had something. Toshi san seemed to think so too. The change in his young friend from meeting John Holmes had happened nearly overnight. “Go on, please, Imoru-san,” Toshi said. Natsuka repressed a smile at his partner’s passion for his work. Imoru sighed. “I tried to be a guiding force in Yuzo’s life…the way Musashi was with you. I wanted Yuzo to know there was someone who saw the real person inside his heart. He did respond to some degree. He confided things about his life to me that he told no one else. That is how I came to know of his involvement in the Temple of the White Tiger.” Natsuka recognized the name of the place in Shinjuku ni-Chome, the neighborhood in Tokyo that housed one of the city’s largest gay communities. The place had come under suspicion during the Ronin Killer investigation but then came up clean. However, Natsuka had suspected the gay men’s hotel of having yakuza ties. The owner had been imprisoned once in the mid-nineties on a charge of running an illegal gambling hall. He’d been released on bail and had no record since. Imoru cleared his throat. “There was a period, however,” he continued, “when Yuzo did not confide in me. I don’t know where he went or what he did. I only know that it cannot have been good or safe. I believe he associated with some bad people. Maybe even yakuza.” Natsuka glanced at Toshi in the rearview mirror. Their gazes met and Toshi nodded, as if to tell Natsuka silently that he would ask the right question. “Imuro-san,” Toshi asked, “what made you suspect him of involvement with organized crime?” The elderly man paused and Natsuka sensed him searching his memory. “I’m not certain. But when he turned nineteen, he started riding a motorcycle. He rode with other boys his age. I met a couple of them and they seemed like bad kids. It was shortly after that I lost contact with him.” 30

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Just as I thought. Natsuka made a turn into Imoru’s neighborhood. There was a good chance Yuzo had become a bosozoku. The young gangs of bikers were prime recruiting ground for the yakuza. Once a youth got involved with an organized crime family, he broke off ties with his own family. Imoru sighed. “I have no proof, of course. But then, when Yuzo became involved with the Temple of the White Tiger, I knew he’d found something that gave his life meaning and allowed him to cast off the bad life he’d led.” Imoru paused and looked down at his hands. “At least, that’s what I’d hoped.” “When you got back into contact, did Yuzo ever mention any names or tell you where he’d been or what he’d done?” Toshi asked. Natsuka exchanged another glance with Toshi in the rearview mirror. Dealing with the Japanese mafia presented a whole different picture. If Yuzo had done something to cross one of them, he was in grave danger. If he was still alive. Imoru shook his head. “No, Toshiro-san. Neither have I dared to ask him. I’ve always feared that if he found out my suspicions, he would run away again…somewhere I would never find him.” In the rearview mirror, Natsuka could see that Imoru chafed his hands together in his lap now, his distress surfacing freely. “That’s why I was so happy when he finally began to speak about his life to me again.” “So he seemed to be happy at the Temple.” Imoru’s eyes brightened a bit. “Oh yes. When I saw him, he appeared as if a terrible weight had lifted from him. He told me he had achieved some level of spiritual peace. He was very devoted to the temple’s priest.” Imoru looked down as if embarrassed. “I believe he was in love with him.” Natsuka noticed how Imoru spoke of his nephew in the past tense, as if he believed the young man were dead. Knowing Toshi as he did, Toshi was vowing to himself to find this young man and end Imoru’s agony. And Natsuka knew he would help Toshi, no matter what. *** “Was the priest’s name, Kikuchiya Fujimara?” Toshi heard the suppressed tension in his own voice. “Does that name sound familiar?” Toshi had learned during their previous investigation that Fujimara was the owner of the hotel in addition to being its priest. His background was spotty--an arrest on illegal gambling charges, but had been clean since. Imoru furrowed his brow. He seemed to be having difficulty remembering for a moment. Then his face brightened. “Ah, yes! That’s him! Yuzo always referred to him as Kiku. He is half Chinese, Yuzo told me once. His mother is Chinese.” Toshi nodded, remembering the facts he and Toshi had gathered during the Ronin Killer 31

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investigation. Born of a Chinese mother and Japanese father Fujimara had grown up in the Chinatown of the nearby city, Yokohama. In 1996 he had established the Temple of the White Tiger in Shinjuku ni-Chome. Toshi repeated these facts to Imoru and Imoru nodded, a wistful look in his watery eyes. “Yes, Yuzo told me about Kiku.” He gazed at Toshi. “You are very much like your uncle, Toshiro san. He used to remember all these things, too.” Soon they had reached Imoru’s apartment building, a seven-story with a beautiful Japanese bonsai garden in the front. “Please,” Imoru said. “All of you come upstairs. I have things to show you that might be of help in the search.” Toshi nodded. “Of course.” He looked at Imoru, wondering how to explain John’s role. “There is one thing, Imoru-san. This gentleman,” he gestured to where John sat in the front, “may be of help in finding Yuzo. He’s a psychic.” Imoru’s eyes widened. “Is that so?” “Yes, Imoru-san. Do you object?” “Of course not.” Imoru bowed to John. Imoru’s apartment was sparsely furnished, decorated in the style of an old-fashioned Japanese home with soji screens and low cushions. They removed their shoes, and Imoru led them from the foyer. Toshi followed him around the corner and froze. There, at the far end of the main room was an altar to Musashi. On a pedestal base surrounded by flowers and incense sat a photograph of Musashi in his army uniform. Toshi’s heartbeat thrummed even as he took the cushion Imoru offered. John sat next to Toshi, knees brushing, with Natsuka opposite. Toshi looked briefly around the room, seeing two more of the magnificent brocade kimonos from the Noh theater, like the one on his own wall. When John shifted in his seat next to him, Toshi looked at him, eyebrows raised. In his concentration, he’d forgotten to make sure that the psychic vibrations in the place weren’t overwhelming John. John’s eyes registered understanding and he leaned in to him. “Nothing so far except the poor man’s distress,” he whispered. Imoru excused himself and disappeared into another room. He returned and came back carrying a box which he set on the glass coffee table. “These are photographs of Yuzo I’ve collected over the years, as well as some other things he’s sent me.” Imoru’s hand trembled as he reached into the box and pulled out a small pile of photographs and papers. Toshi reached out and took the pile from Imoru. Setting the pictures on his lap, he picked up the top one and held it out so he and John could look at it together. 32

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The young man in the photograph was beautiful. Dressed in a dark suit and tie, he appeared to be somewhere between eighteen and twenty. Longish black hair hung in bangs over his forehead. His full lips were pouty, and his eyes, though tinged with anger and sadness, were also seductive. Toshi held the photograph up. “Imoru-san, how old is your nephew in this picture?” “Around eighteen. He had just finished high school when that was taken,” Imoru answered. “It was shortly after that that Yuzo ran away and stopped speaking to me as well as to his parents.” John reached out. “May I?” Toshi handed John the photograph reluctantly. The visions and impressions John received were sometimes very powerful, physically distressing. During the Ronin Killer investigation, John’s very first impressions at a crime scene had nearly knocked him unconscious. John smiled at him, his expression showing that he understood Toshi’s concern. *** John’s fingers pressed into the photograph as he took it. One second and bam…anger hit him. Waves of raging emotion had somehow gotten absorbed into the photo from the handler, the photographer or the subject. With the swarm of heat and feelings, John couldn’t distinguish between them. Closing his eyes, he braced himself with a hand on the sofa cushion and took a deep breath. One second passed. Then another. Inner clouds dissipated. Understanding flooded in. Imoru’s nephew had been enraged at the time the photograph was taken. The heat of anger nearly burned John’s fingertips. He pinched the thin paper harder so he wouldn’t drop it and took another deep breath. More emotions flooded in the wake of the anger. Yuzo felt betrayed, cheated by life. He felt suicidal but was too afraid to kill himself. Images came. Yuzo packing a small duffel, walking out of a bedroom. Posters of rock stars on the wall gave John the sense this was Yuzo’s childhood room. Yuzo glancing back at the room from the doorway then running out, jumping onto a motorbike and peeling away, riding surrounded by other young men on bikes… John felt Toshi’s hand on his shoulder. The soothing contact subdued the flow of intensity from the photograph. He nodded. “I’m all right, Toshi.” But Toshi did not lift his hand. The unspoken insistence in the healing touch made John realize he’d begun to slouch over. He cleared his throat. Strength seeped back in and he straightened his shoulders. Only then did Toshi remove his hand. John stared at Yuzo’s face. The anger, though not subsided, had dulled a bit. More images flooded his mind. Yuzo kissing another young man his age. Yuzo sitting in a bar being stared at by an older man. John sensed Yuzo’s discovery of his own physical beauty, the allure of his large, dark eyes, 33

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soft lips and thick sleek hair. Smiling at the man who slipped into the seat beside him… John felt Yuzo’s newfound sense of freedom, of what he felt was control over his own life. Before John could explain to Toshi what he was seeing, the emotional impressions morphed into images, a disturbing kaleidoscope that made John’s fingers tighten again on the photo. Yuzo riding a motorcycle, speeding like a demon and weaving through traffic. Yuzo walking down a busy sidewalk, alone then with a man, a short, stocky man with an angry face. Yuzo with that same man in what looked like a hotel room, the older man pulling off Yuzo’s shirt. The vision revealed that Yuzo’s physique was as alluring as his face, lean and sculpted. The energy in the visions shifted. John felt a pulse of nausea in his gut. Yuzo down on his knees, sucking a man who fisted his hair, yanked on his head. Yuzo restrained, in cuffs, being beaten with a leather strap. Yuzo sniffing up white powder from a tabletop, another man in an expensive suit, sitting near him, watching. John’s breath constricted but he held on, strained to remain objective and remember details, anything that could help Toshi’s search. Yuzo’s face hovered in John’s mind. More visions came, images of the young man’s clear cheeks stained with tears, his skin bruised around one eye and his jaw. John dragged in a breath, desperate for more details, but before he could discern the men’s faces, the visions faded. The photograph dropped from his hand and he slumped over. A hand squeezed his shoulder gently. “John.” Softness flooded John from under Toshi’s fingertips. The tender sensation spread from there down his chest, into his gut. The roiling in his stomach eased and his heart didn’t pound quite so hard. “John, look at me.” John then heard Imoru ask a question. Though he didn’t understand Japanese, he heard the concern in the elderly man’s voice. John forced himself to look up. Imoru was watching him, his mouth open, his eyes glazed with fear. Guilt stabbed John. How could he possibly tell Yuzo’s uncle what he’d seen? How could he tell the old man he’d seen Yuzo beaten and well…judging from Yuzo’s expression in the visions, the sexual activity he’d witnessed hadn’t been what anyone would call consensual. He watched Toshi retrieve the photo from the floor and put it in the box. Toshi and Imoru had a brief exchange after which the elderly man bowed his head and rose, disappearing into another room. Toshi turned to him. “He’s getting you water. Are you all right?” He nodded. “I’m fine.” He paused and glanced in the direction he heard water running. “Does he speak English?” Toshi shook his head. “I don’t believe so.” John breathed a small sigh of relief. “Good, because you shouldn’t tell him what I’m going to tell 34

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you now.” He went on to repeat what he’d seen, adding the few facts he had been able to garner about Yuzo’s surroundings. “If I saw one of the other men who were in the visions, I’d recognize them, but other than that…I’m sorry.” “It’s all right,” Toshi said. “That helps, believe it or not. I think it would be best to complete this task in private.” He turned and spoke briefly to Natsuka who nodded just as Imoru returned with a glass of water. The elderly man handed it to John and returned to his seat, his eyes still stricken. *** “Toshiro-san, what did he see?” Imoru’s voice came out in a hoarse whisper. Toshi sighed. He searched his mind for an answer that wouldn’t cause the elderly man more grief than he already had. “You were correct in your belief that Yuzo associated with bad people,” he said. Indeed, John’s narrative of his impressions did point in the direction of the yakuza. Imoru’s eyes widened. “Did they hurt my nephew?” Toshi looked at him, grateful for his years of experience with this sort of thing. “They were not kind to him, Imoru-san. But I will do everything in my power to find him.” He bowed, praying that his answer would suffice for now. Unfortunately, it was all he had. It had happened millions of times, only being able to give worried people half-assurances about their loved ones. It was the one part of his work that he detested. He rose, keeping an eye on John to make sure he was all right. John’s movements seemed stiff and his balance unsteady. Toshi put a hand on his lover’s shoulder and bowed again to Imoru. “We must go now,” he told the elderly man. “I will keep you informed. May we take these pictures and letters with us? Of course, you’ll get them back as soon as possible.” Imoru nodded. “Hai.” He turned to John and bowed. “Thank you for your help, Mr. Holmes.” Toshi translated for John who bowed in return. *** It was time for Toshi to sit with his uncle’s body. Natsuka pulled up in front of the funeral home and Toshi got out of the car. He looked down at John in the back seat. Natsuka was going to take John back to Toshi’s apartment, and much as Toshi hated being apart from John, even for the few hours, he needed to sit with Musashi. It wasn’t only tradition, it was something he needed to do, a way to say good-bye. “See you in a while,” he told John, resisting the powerful urge to climb into the back seat and kiss John. If Natsuka hadn’t been there, that was exactly what he would have done. John reached out his hand, which Toshi accepted, immediately feeling the comfort of John’s 35

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warmth and squeezed John’s fingers before releasing him. “Don’t worry about me, Toshi. I’m sure Natsuka will take good care of me, and I have my Japanese phrase book. We’ll be okay.” Toshi smiled at him. “No doubt.” John indicated the box of photos. “And I’ll work on these as well.” He felt his smile fade. “Are you sure? Maybe I should be there.” But John waved him off. “Don’t worry.” At John’s wink, he sighed. Those blue eyes could get him to do just about anything. “All right.” He closed the door and stepped back, watching the car pull away from the curb before he went into the funeral home. To his relief, the main hall was empty except for Musashi’s coffin on the altar. His parents had apparently gone home, giving him privacy to sit with his uncle. Approaching the altar, he took a seat in the row facing the coffin lengthwise. The room was quiet, the only other movement was the glow of the incense sticks burning. He surveyed the coffin. Everything was in order. The traditional kimono, sandals and personal items it was believed Musashi would need when he crossed over into the afterlife were with him in the coffin, as were the letters and photographs. His gaze came to rest on his uncle’s face. “I’m going to help your friend,” he said out loud. Strangely, speaking as if his uncle were alive was comforting. No doubt Musashi would have wanted him to help Imoru. “I know now how important you were to each other.” He sat quietly for several moments, breathing in the incense as he studied his uncle’s face. The question of Musashi’s secrecy rose, scratched at the invisible place inside him that hungered to solve mysteries. Why had Musashi kept his true relationship with Imoru so secret? He’d been so encouraging to Toshi, however subtly, to be true to himself in loving men, so why had he not spoken of his own love? Toshi waited for the sense of betrayal that had squeezed his heart earlier. It never came. Only confusion mixed with his sharp sense of loss. Musashi’s contradiction didn’t make sense. Toshi’s eye fell on the pile of letter. The blue parchment envelopes pulled at him. They were within his reach. All he had to do was peek inside… “No!” He scolded himself out loud as if he were speaking to a naught child. You will not disrespect your uncle’s resting place. “I wish I knew why you didn’t tell me, Uncle,” he said softly. “You knew I would never have judged you.” He looked down. “At least, I hope you’d have known.” He searched his memory, every interaction he could recall between them. Toshi resting his head on 36

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his uncle’s knee after his father had spanked him for digging up his mother’s roses. Musashi meeting him on the sidewalk outside school, buying him strawberry pocky in the park, receiving Musashi’s daily letters from home while he was in the States, Musashi’s joyous expression when he’d come home for a visit… There couldn’t possibly be enough time to remember every single one. Musashi had been the person who had persuaded his parents to let Toshi have his time in the States. They would never have allowed that of their own accord. His heart squeezed. Tears came. Now he let them fall, since no one else was around. Because of his uncle, he’d learned what loyalty and kindness really meant. There was no doubt in his mind that it was because of Musashi that he’d been drawn to John. From the first moment he and John had met in the airport, Toshi had felt the attraction. John had that same gentle yet strong way about him as Musashi. Both were sensitive men who’d been to war and suffered trauma because of it. Sadness engulfed him again. The resemblance, however, ended there. As he’d just learned, even Musashi had had his secrets. The one person he’d thought wasn’t a mystery to him, now was. John, on the other hand, unlike anyone whom Toshi had ever known: lover, family, colleague, whatever, was… well… knowable. He openly spoke his thoughts and feelings. That quality in itself had brought light into a world, which, for Toshi, had been largely dark. If he’d thought his attraction to John had only been because John was physically delicious, it wasn’t. Yes, John was gorgeous, but he’d been with other incredibly handsome guys, men who made his knees go weak just looking at them. He hadn’t fallen in love with any of them. Not even Michael…not like this. Toshi’s chest tightened. He ached to have John sitting next to him right now. Just to reach out and feel his lover’s hand… He sighed, suddenly itching for a cigarette. He was trying to cut back, but moments like these really touched off the craving. Had Natsuka been sitting here, a pack would have already been outstretched in front of him. The thought pulled a smile from him. Of course, it would be disrespectful as hell to light up here in the funeral home, even though Toshi knew in his heart of hearts that Musashi wouldn’t have cared. *** Toshi sat quietly for several hours, until well after sunset. He rose and went to Musashi’s coffin. “Good bye, Uncle,” he murmured. He reached out and touched Musashi’s hand briefly. The dead man’s skin was cool against his fingertips. He closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them and looked at the still face, its eyes closed, he felt the absence of Musashi’s spirit from the shell left behind. He glanced into the coffin, at the letters and clothing and suddenly understood the custom in a new way. Rituals for the ones left behind, to make them feel as if the spirit were still there somehow. Hot tears stung his eyes again. Saying good-bye didn’t mean you stopped missing the person. 37

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He stood a moment longer, long enough for his glance to fall on the pile of love letters. His fingers curled over the edge of the coffin as he fought back another wave of temptation. No. He yanked his hand back and forced himself to turn and walk from the room. Time to go back to John. The desire to be in his lover’s arms gripped him with the power of a steel vise. Toshi caught a cab back home to Ryogoku. As soon as he’d paid the driver, he bounded up the stairs to his apartment rather than wait for the elevator. He unlocked the door and kicked off his shoes, leaving them next to John’s. “John, I’m back.” Silence. “John?” More silence. A familiar chill coursed up Toshi’s spine. Like John’s first night in the apartment, when a vision had caused him to faint in the shower. But Toshi didn’t hear any running water. A light was on in the living room so Toshi rushed down the short hallway in that direction. Whipping around the corner, his blood froze. John was at the table, slumped over, unconscious.

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CHAPTER FOUR

“John!” Toshi rushed over, grasped John’s arms and lifted him to an upright position. John. blinked several times and rubbed a hand over his face. But when he looked up at Toshi, he smiled. “Hey.” “John, what happened?” Toshi knelt by him, still gripping his lover’s shoulders. John frowned and his blue eyes clouded. “Oh shit, I worried you. Damn. I’m all right. I promise.” Without hesitation, Toshi wrapped his arms around John and sank against him. He felt John’s hand pass over his hair. “I’m sorry you were scared,” John murmured. “I admit I worked a little too long with these photos and letters. They knocked the shit out of me.” “It’s all right.” He breathed in John’s scent, the traces of his aftershave and natural musk. Just holding John caused the tension to seep from his own body. John had the most intoxicating blend of strong, muscular body and warm yield. He’d had never experienced anything like it. Closing his eyes, he melted into John’s embrace. “It’s all right. I’m just relieved.” John’s hand continued to move on his hair and he felt the press of lips on the top of his head. “Hey, Toshi?” Toshi pulled back. He meant to look into John’s eyes but saw that John’s shirt was unbuttoned all the way. He stole a long look at John’s broad expanse of chest, sprinkled with golden hair. John’s flat reddish-brown nipples never failed to send wavesof desire through Toshi’s whole body. He only wished John didn’t look so fatigued. Taking impressions seemed to be as much a curse, in some ways, as a gift. “You must be hungry.” He smiled. Relief could not begin to describe the drain of tension from his limbs. “Yeah, I guess I am. We’ll have to go get something.” A sparkle of humor glinted in John’s blue eyes. “Sit down.” He indicated the opposite chair and rose. Toshi grasped his arms. John was always unsteady on his feet after receiving impressions. A comforting hand squeezed his arm. “It’s okay, Toshi. I’m rested. I’ll be fine. You’re the one who 39

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needs attention right now.” Another squeeze on his shoulder urged him over. He sighed and yielded to the pressure on his arm. Sinking into the indicated chair, he kept a look on John, not quite ready to believe that John was okay. John put Tokuma Imoru’s photos back in the box, set it aside and rose. “I’ll be right back.” Toshi watched him disappear into the kitchen. John did seem as rested as he’d claimed. So he waited, listening to the sounds of John moving around in the kitchen. Had John cooked also while he’d been at the funeral home? John always told him what a terrible cook he was. Oh well, after the revelations of this day, John’s cooking ability was a minor mystery. Not one to be concerned about. John came back moments later with a tray full of food. He set it on the table. “Supper for two, Inspector. Miso soup, sushi, and a few other things I’m just learning to pronounce.” Toshi furrowed his brow at the colorful collection of bowls and plates being set before him. “You didn’t make this, did you?” John laughed. “I wish. Like I’ve been saying, I can barely boil water and make unburned toast.” He arranged the food and then went back to the kitchen returning with chopsticks and bowls. “But I do know how to wait tables. Did some of that in summers during high school.” He sat down at his place and picked up his chopsticks. “The meal is courtesy of Natsuka. He wanted it to be there for you when you got back. He’s a really good guy.” Toshi nodded. Of course, he should have known. Natsuka was like that, coming in quietly and efficiently, making sure Toshi had what he needed. He’d gotten Toshi out of more than a few dangerous spots in their time as partners. A pang gripped Toshi’s heart. When he had decided to leave Japan with John, he’d hardly thought about how much he would miss his dear friend. “He’s been a very good friend to me these last four years.” They ate quietly for a few minutes before Toshi set down his chopsticks, eager to know what John had learned from the photographs. “Were you able to find out anything more about Yuzo?” he asked. John was sipping his tea. He nodded and set the cup down. “I think so. I made some notes.” He reached into the box and pulled out a piece of paper covered with scrawled handwriting. “Basically I saw Yuzo with the same men as before, when I held his photograph back at his uncle’s apartment.” “Did you manage to see other details about them, maybe things that you hadn’t seen before?” John nodded. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, something that’s probably pretty important.” Toshi’s stomach jumped. “What was it?” “Well, I’m not an expert by any means, but one of the guys had tattoos, like the yakuza have, all over his body.”

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“Ankles to wrists?” John grimaced. “Yes. Ass cheeks, too.” Toshi sighed. “Shit. This isn’t good.” “No, I’d think not.” Toshi held his teacup and stared a moment down into the liquid. “What else?” “Well, first, with the tattooed guy, I’d see them in a room, doing the same things I told you about before. Then, the place shifted. I’m not sure if the visions were in any particular chronological order, but there was a second place. Not as nice-looking as the first. Kind of cruddy, in fact. I don’t know what it was but there were lockers for men to put their clothes and then an attendant would hand them a plastic bag with a robe and towel in it. And then they’d go into what looked like a giant hot tub. There was lots of sex going on in this place, whatever it was.” John paused and took a sip of tea. “Yuzo was with a few different guys, but I saw that scene again, where that one man had Yuzo restrained and was whipping him.” Toshi considered what John had said. “Did the second guy have tattoos?” “No. But he had a mole on one cheek. Kind of made him stand out, I guess.” “You said the first place you saw was fancier? Any details?” John tilted his head. “Well, the fancier place had soji screens, fancy cushions. Like you see in samurai movies. It looked possibly like a rich man’s home or a fancy hotel. No other details. Sorry.” Toshi’s heart was pumping. “No! Don’t apologize. You don’t understand.” He explained to John what he’d possibly seen. The seedier setting could have been one of Tokyo’s famous hattenba, cruising joints for gay men. Those places were wild, hotbeds of gay sex in the wee hours of the morning after everything else, including the subway, had shut down. The accuracy and detail of John’s visions astounded him each time and now was no exception. The fancier place John had seen was probably a more expensive hattenba. It could even have been the Temple of the White Tiger. They’d know more when they saw it. “Wow, I had no idea.” He looked at Toshi. “I have to admit that I creep myself out sometimes.” Toshi chuckled. “Well, you don’t look creepy, that’s for sure.” To his surprise, John’s cheeks reddened and a look of shyness stole into his eyes. “Thanks, Toshi.” He cleared his throat. Toshi felt his own cheeks tingle and he glanced down. He could probably count on one hand the number of times he’d outwardly expressed the praise he felt John deserved so much. Toshi resolved quietly to be more generous with it. “You’re welcome. Just true.” 41

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“In any case,” he went on, shifting back to the search for Yuzo Kitano, “we have more knowledge now. We’ll be able to keep an eye out for someone with a mole and at least we have a sense of the places Yuzo used to frequent. Chances are the place you saw is close to The Temple of the White Tiger. They’re all basically in the same neighborhood. The Temple is just an upscale version of the sauna house. It caters to a wealthier clientele. Natsuka and I investigated the place during the Ronin Killer case but it checked out clean.” John frowned and a strange look came over his face. “You and he didn’t go undercover, did you?” There was a strange catch in his voice that made Toshi stare at him. He furrowed his brow. “No. We sent someone else in undercover, just long enough to have a sense of what they do there. We made sure there was nothing of a cultish nature going on that would involve swords. The men at the White Tiger massage the clients, fuss over them and give them some sex. The rest of the time, they care for the place and meditate. Harmless.” He paused. This was the difficult part. “I am going to go undercover there now, though. I have no choice. It’s the most effective way to search.” John’s eyes widened. “With someone else?” Toshi sighed. “Um, not exactly.” He didn’t have to be psychic to see the tension creasing his lover’s face. He dropped the idea of telling John he’d been planning to check into a gay man’s hotel on his own. “Toshi, I said I’d help you. Don’t tell me you’re worried about me being in danger, now.” The unspoken part of John’s argument hung in the air between them. Before dying, Musashi, possessed by the killer, had nearly made a shish kabob of his own nephew and John. “I can’t help it.” “Okay, so we’re worried about each other. Better that we’re there together. I don’t care about getting paid for this or anything. You know that.” Toshi nodded, a heavy feeling in his chest. “Of course I know that.” John was no longer on the Tokyo police payroll anyway. A few moments silence passed. “Do you think Fujimara will remember you from the Ronin Killer case?” John asked, breaking the quiet. “After all, I saw you on the news all the way in Boston.” Toshi sighed. “I doubt it. Hayao did the inquiries on the White Tiger. I’ve never had contact with Fujimara. Besides, the superintendent makes sure we remain as anonymous as possible in the Japanese press during investigations.” “Well, even so, he might be suspicious of anyone right now, since Imoru has gone looking there for his nephew. But if we go in as a couple, you could just be with your lover for a vacation. I’m not 42

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Japanese so you and me together make a good cover. Don’t you think?”

Toshi heaved another sigh. Much as he hated to admit it, John was right. He and Natsuka couldn’t

go undercover together. Natsuka didn’t have a homosexual bone in his body and would not be

convincing at all. John, however…that was a different story. Toshi didn’t have to try and be

convincing with him. “You have a point.”

John grinned. “Yes, and I try to keep it under my hat at all times.”

The joke pulled a chuckle from him. Just as quickly however, the moment passed. They were

probably dealing with yakuza. Yakuza were no problem as long as they didn’t feel threatened. If

they did, however…

“All right, John. But at the first sign of trouble, no matter how tiny, you’re out.”

John’s smile faded. To Toshi’s relief, he nodded. “Got it.”

A moment passed and he noticed the jealous look hadn’t completely left John’s face. He leaned in.

“Hey, John, is something else the matter?”

John started as if pulled from a trance and a sheepish look stole into his blue eyes. “I’m sorry. Nothing’s wrong. I…just…” He shook his head. “One thing you’ll learn about me is that I have insecurities.” He studied John’s face. “You mean, you’re jealous?”

John nodded. A sheepish look clouded his blue eyes.

“Really? Why?”

“Toshi, you’re kidding, right?”

“No.”

John raised his eyebrows. “You don’t get it. I’m a nerdy farm boy from the sticks. You’re

handsome and cultured, well-educated. In a million years I wouldn’t have thought you’d go for

me.”

Toshi felt his cheeks burn at that description of himself. “You don’t see yourself clearly at all then,

John.” He reached across the table and laced the fingers of one hand with John’s. “What can I do to

show you, you don’t have any reason to be insecure?”

His lover sighed. “Well, I was thinking you need a massage. Let me give you that.”

Just the suggestion sent a warm thrill right to Toshi’s groin. The mere thought of John’s hands

rubbing his bare skin made him start to get hard. It didn’t make sense that giving a massage would

show John he didn’t need to be insecure, but emotions weren’t logical. “That sounds great.” He

released John’s hand rose from the table.

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John grinned at him. “Mind if the dishes wait awhile?” He shook his head. His stomach fluttered in anticipation of the massage. “They won’t run away.” He let John lead him to the sofa and sat down while John switched off the lamp, leaving the room dark except for silver-blue splashes of moonlight coming through the large picture windows. Funny how he could count on one hand the number of times he’d sat in the living room since moving into this apartment three years ago, yet in the week that John had come to stay here, they spent quite a bit of time sitting here. In fact, it had been the first place John had walked into when Toshi brought him back here. Something about that gave him a ridiculous flush of pleasure. John came back to the sofa and picked up a small bottle Toshi hadn’t seen. “Take your shirt off.” He unscrewed the cap and the air around them filled immediately with the warm spice of sandalwood. “I found this massage oil in the same place I found the Japanese phrase book.” He chuckled. “Amazing what you can find when you look.” Toshi had already undone the first couple of buttons. The nerve endings along his skin thrummed he just wanted John’s hands on him now. “Would you help me with this?” John smiled and set down the bottle of oil. “Gladly.” *** John’s heartbeat sped up. It happened every time they touched and he hoped it always would. He moved closer and reached out, trembling fingers undoing the buttons of Toshi’s shirt as quickly as he could. Toshi’s shirt fell open, revealing his sleekly muscled chest. “Damn, Toshi. You’re amazing.” John heard the wonder and appreciation in his own voice. He sure meant it. The man was nothing short of delicious. He reached up and pushed Toshi’s shirt back. The movement made his thumbs brush the warm skin of Toshi’s shoulders. A thrill of heat shivered through his body and he paused to savor the way the moonlight outlined his lover’s lean, sinewy form and smooth, flawless skin. He trailed the fingertips of one hand down Toshi’s arm, traced the outlines of definition where biceps melted into triceps, then back up to his shoulder. “God, Toshi, your skin is exquisite.” He leaned closer and breathed in the other man’s warm clean scent. “Thank you.” Toshi definitely sounded shy. He looked slightly down and John felt his lover’s difficulty in accepting the praise. Too damn bad. He’d have to get used to it. “You’re welcome. Just true.” Closing his eyes, John brushed his lips over Toshi’s shoulder. He heard Toshi take a deep breath then felt Toshi’s hand cupped the back of his neck. A thumb brushed the curve of John’s neck. The light touch sent a warm tingle down John’s spine and around his front, shooting into his groin. 44

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The first stirrings of a hard-on hit him and he straightened up, pulled away with a grin. “I won’t be able to massage you if you keep doing that.” Toshi chuckled. “All right. I’ll behave.” His hand slipped from John’s neck and John picked up the oil, squeezed a small amount onto his palm. He rubbed his hands together while Toshi turned around. The oil warmed on John’s palms and he put them on Toshi’s back. Damn, Toshi’s body felt incredible under his hands. He started rubbing the tight muscles in slow, firm circles. Fortunately, the tension in his lover distracted John from the lust heating his own body, as Toshi was obviously in need of relaxation. Gently, John kneaded Toshi’s deltoids. Toshi groaned and his shoulders began to sag. “Where did you learn to massage like that?” John slipped his hands to Toshi’s shoulders, pressed his thumbs into them and rubbed them in the same circular pattern. The scent of the massage oil filled the air, making John feel relaxed too. “I haven’t really done it much,” he confessed. “It’s just… well… touching you seems to come naturally.” Before Toshi could answer, he slid one hand to the back of Toshi’s neck, bidding him to bow his head so he could massage out the tension there, too. He slid careful fingertips up and down the taut tendons. Even Toshi’s neck was amazing, the delicate yet masculine curves. He could see them much better without the wisps of hair that had covered them before. Even though he missed Toshi’s longer hair, there were some compensations. Toshi moaned again. “You make it easy to learn.” John spent a few minutes kneading Toshi’s neck and then started again with both hands on Toshi’s back. Toshi’s head lolled forward. His torso now moved easily under John’s hands as if he were becoming a rag doll. “John?” Toshi asked after several moments of quiet rubbing. “Yeah?” “What’s your father like?” John paused, rested his hands a moment on Toshi’s shoulders before returning to his back. “My dad? Hmm.” No one ever asked him about his father, a quiet man who stayed in the background and just made sure crops kept growing and the children were fed. “You know that line in Seven Samurai when the Granddad of the village tells the samurai that farmers go to bed worrying and wake up the same way?” Toshi chuckled. “I remember.” “My dad is a lot like that. A true farmer. We never talked much, except about running the farm and 45

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how the weather was affecting the crops. I only ever saw him out of his overalls on Sundays, when he goes to church. When I was a kid I used to think he slept in them.” Toshi laughed briefly. “Does he know about you?” John had a vision of his father at the kitchen table, reading his bible. Many times growing up, John wanted to tell his father about the feelings he was having toward men. Then he’d see his father reading and back away. “You know? I don’t know. He’s not someone you could ever approach with personal stuff. I guess the modern catch phrase would be that he’s ‘emotionally unavailable.’ I heard that a lot in counseling sessions at the VA when I came back from the Gulf.” Toshi chuckled. Then his mirth faded. “Does he…scare you?” John paused his massage again. He knew why Toshi was asking the question. He’d seen 'the glare' with his own eyes today in the funeral home. Mazao Genjin was frightening enough to make a person want to hide in a hole somewhere. A brief image of Toshi as a cute little boy, cowering under that look, surged in his mind. Had he been there to see it, he would have put himself protectively between Toshi and his father. “Well, he’s never acted like a bully or anything like that, but it’s scary enough not to be able to approach your own dad with the things that shape your life. As a teenager I kind of always assumed that he’d automatically disown me or preach hellfire and brimstone if I told him I was gay. Now, as an adult who only goes home only for Christmas, I don’t really think so much about it. It’s kind of sad, I know.” Toshi nodded. “I understand.” “I know you do, Toshi.” John slid his arms around Toshi, pressed his chest to Toshi’s back. Toshi’s skin rubbed John’s nipples through his shirt and the scented oil started John’s heartbeat skipping again and his cock stirring. John closed his eyes and pressed his lips to the back of Toshi’s neck, brushed the tip of his tongue over Toshi’s warm skin. Nothing felt better than knowing he’d found something special with Toshi. Toshi sighed and sagged back against his chest. The movement grazed John’s nipples. Pressure built in his groin and he pressed in closer to Toshi’s back, arms encircling and caressing Toshi’s chest with his oiled palms. Delicately, John traced the furrows between his pectoral muscles. Toshi arched his back. “John,” he whispered. Encouraged, John parted his lips, and rained light kisses on Toshi’s skin. Toshi’s flesh was salty sweet and John kissed a path down the curve of Toshi’s neck, across to his shoulder. He squeezed Toshi’s chest, teased and pinched Toshi’s nipples into hard peaks. Toshi groaned and tilted his head, so that John could nip and suckle the skin of his neck. John was only too happy to feast on that warm, supple skin. He shifted in his seat around to Toshi’s front, his kisses moving from the side of Toshi’s neck to his throat. John flickered the tip of his 46

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tongue over Toshi’s Adam’s apple, then around the hollow at the base of his throat. Before John knew what was happening, Toshi had shoved John’s shirt back off his shoulders, yanked it down his arms and off, and was pushing John back against the cushions, fingers tight on his upper arms, Toshi nudged John’s knees apart and settled between his legs. With his hands anchored into the cushions, Toshi looked down at John. Toshi’s hungry gaze showed the effects of John's massage and kisses. “John,” he whispered again. John slid the fingers of one hand into Toshi’s hair. He locked gazes with Toshi, registered the need in his lover’s dark eyes. Toshi was hovering, lips a mere two inches above his. Toshi’s warm breath pulsed over his face. Toshi seemed to be waiting for permission… Well, damn, if that was the case, he could have all the permission he wanted, to do anything he wanted, anything at all. John tilted his face upward and closed the tiny distance between their mouths with a kiss. He’d been right about the permission thing. In the next second, a groan vibrated deep in Toshi’s throat and he slipped his tongue between John’s lips, slid their tongues together, warm and moist. Toshi’s cock was hard, pressed with demand against John’s through their pants. Toshi ground his hips in tight circles against John. The friction sent sparks of heated pleasure through John’s cock, deep into his balls. *** I’ve been set free. The words spiraled through the haze of Toshi’s mind. Kissing John made him feel drunk, like warm saké zinging through his veins. He sank down, chest pressed to John’s. John’s shirt was wide open and his chest hairs tickled Toshi’s skin, brushed his nipples like feathers. John’s lips tasted delicious, green tea and garlic mixed with his own sweet flavor. Toshi lapped at them in wild strokes. He wanted to hold back, to savor John, but he couldn’t suppress the feral streak his lover brought out in him. He pulled away from John’s mouth and looked down at him, at those dusky lips, parted, moistened from his kisses. His fingers tightened on John’s arms, but the other man’s mere scent pulled him back down. He feathered the tip of his tongue on John’s jaw. John’s dark gold stubble, like fine sandpaper rasped pleasantly against his tongue. His mind swirled with lust. Toshi pulled back, panting in his struggle to slow down. John’s breath rose and fell in rhythm with Toshi’s and he looked up from under heavy lids. “Toshi, what’s wrong?” Toshi looked at him. Words wouldn’t come, as if he’d been reduced to a growling wild beast. John’s lips parted, the moist recess of his mouth so inviting. Toshi’s gaze fell to those lips and desire streaked to his groin. He groaned and sank down onto John again, suckled a hungry trail 47

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down John’s neck, devoured John’s skin, warm and salty. Driven on, Toshi nibbled John’s collarbone, raked the fingers of one hand through John’s soft chest hair, thumbed John’s nipple to hardness. John groaned, slid the fingers of both hands into Toshi’s hair as Toshi kissed a path down John’s chest. John’s body hair tickled Toshi’s lips as Toshi made his way over to one nipple and licked. The smooth peak tightened immediately and John groaned. He licked again. John’s fingers tightened in his hair. With one hand, he kneaded John’s other nipple. “God, that feels so good,” John breathed, his fingers tightening in Toshi’s hair. The appreciation made Toshi’s erection get even tighter. Hunger to get his mouth on John’s cock surged in him, raw and hot. He lifted his mouth from John’s chest and licked his way down John’s tight stomach, followed the delicious trail of golden hair to John’s navel. He swirled the tip of his tongue in that delicious indentation while he worked open John’s belt and pants, earning more soft moans from his lover. Toshi eased John’s briefs away from his cock. The thick member sprang free, jutted close to Toshi’s lips. He worked John’s pants down and captured John’s cock in his mouth. Damn, it was one of the most delicious things he’d ever tasted in his whole life and the tiny whimpers of pleasure coming from John only made Toshi suck more wildly. Toshi bobbed his head up and down, unable to get enough of the slide of John’s hardness against his tongue. The silky skin over the erect shaft tasted incredible and Toshi lapped up a small droplet of salty pre-come that seeped from the tip. “Toshi, I’m gonna come too soon if you keep that up.” John’s voice was gravelly, thick with desire. Reluctantly, Toshi let John’s cock slide out of his mouth and looked up at him. John’s chest was heaving, his lips parted, eyelids heavy. Toshi grinned. “Well, how can I make it last for you?” John dragged in a deep breath. “Take some of that oil, smear it on your cock and fuck me. That oughta do it.” The heated, uncharacteristic order sent a thrill of lust straight into Toshi’s cock. Without a word he shucked his pants, grabbed the oil and drizzled it on his erection. “Here, let me.” John reached out and palmed Toshi’s cock, smoothing the oil all over it. Toshi sucked in a breath at the pleasure of John’s touch. “Toshi, get down here quick.” Toshi knelt down and pulled John’s pants until they slipped to his ankles. He yanked them the rest of the way off and fit his body between John’s legs. He found John’s tight hole with one oiled finger and probed it gently. “Toshi.” John’s hips arched up. “Yes.”

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His lover’s pleasure made him want to give more. He his finger deep inside, working it around, spreading John’s ass nice and open. John groaned and hooked his legs around Toshi’s hips. “I want you, John,” he whispered and nipped at the other man’s jaw. “Then have me.” Just what he needed to hear. He pulled his finger out of John’s tight channel, replaced it with the head of his slick cock. Pleasure tingled from the contact. Bracing his hands on the sofa cushions, he pushed. John’s body took him right in, heated friction in every inch. Damn, right into heaven. “Yes…” John sighed and lifted his hips, pushed back with his body so that Toshi’s cock slid in deeper. The oil made Toshi so slippery, he sank in all the way so that his body met John’s. Toshi leaned down, closed his lips over John’s, his kiss wild, his tongue seeking John’s, feeling so connected to his lover, his heart swelled. John grasped Toshi’s shoulders, squeezed them. “Oh, God that feels amazing.” His hands clutched at Toshi’s back then pulled. Toshi yielded to the pressure and sank down onto him so that their chests touched. With their mouths still pressed together, Toshi thrust into John, lost in John’s scent, the feel of John’s tight ass around his cock. His nipples rubbed against John’s chest hair. All his thoughts spun away, his whole world completely focused on the joining of his body with John’s. “I’m coming, Toshi,” he heard John grind out in a hoarse whisper. Toshi felt John’s cock against his stomach and moved a bit faster. John groaned, his fingertips pressed into Toshi’s back, the warm moisture of come splashed between their bodies. John’s mouth tensed, his tongue rested against Toshi’s until he stopped coming, his body going slack underneath his lover. John grasped Toshi’s hips, urged him to thrust faster as the tension built. Toshi finally pulled away from their kiss. His hands clutched the cushions and thrust like a battering ram into John, bodies slapping together in a fevered rhythm. John squeezed his muscles around Toshi’s cock. The friction sent him over the edge. The tiny explosions came one after the other and he groaned as he came inside John. When he was empty, he collapsed on his lover, cheek resting on John’s damp chest. John’s hand caressed his hair. “Toshi, that was incredible,” he said after several minutes. He heaved a deep sigh, catching his breath. “Yeah, it was. I’m glad you feel that way. I worry that I’m always attacking you.” John chuckled, his fingers toying with Toshi’s hair. “I sure don’t feel attacked. I feel…wanted.” 49

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Toshi’s heart squeezed with relief. “I’m honored.” He lifted his head and kissed John’s lips. They were the softest lips he’d ever tasted. The best. John brushed Toshi’s cheek with his thumb. “Thank you.” Toshi laid his head back down on John’s chest, wishing they didn’t have to get up in the morning and go anywhere. At least in the Temple of the White Tiger, he and John would have plenty of opportunities do what they’d just done. That is, if their search for Yuzo Kitano didn’t threaten their lives the way the Ronin Killer had.

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CHAPTER FIVE

“Are you sure you’re ready to do this?” Toshi looked at John, concerned. He managed to keep his attention on John’s face despite the fact that John was still naked from his shower, drying off his muscled body. John rubbed the towel over his chest. The movement pulled Toshi’s gaze downward and he stared at the delicious swirls of golden hair on John’s broad chest. John stepped closer to Toshi who had already gotten dressed and come back into the bathroom. He smoothed one hand over Toshi’s hair. “I’m fine. I should be asking you that question. For God’s sake, you’re in mourning.” Toshi leaned back against the vanity. Images of his uncle’s cremation the day before, the glowing ashes, the crumbs of bones and photographs left by the blaze haunted his mind. As if sensing his thoughts, John slipped his hand from Toshi’s hair and cupped the back of his neck. John’s touch was so soothing, made him feel held, safe. “I’m ready. In a strange way, doing this for Imoru makes me feel more connected to my uncle.” John brushed his thumb back and forth on Toshi’s skin. “I understand. You’re a lot like your uncle, you know.” Toshi looked at him, pleasantly mesmerized by John’s sweet gaze. “You think so?” John smiled. “Definitely. A blind man could have seen his devotion to you. You have that same quality.” Toshi looked down. Praise always made him feel shy. “Thank you.” John’s thumb brushed his skin again. The small touch had the same pleasurable, comforting effect and Toshi couldn’t go another moment without kissing John. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips across John’s. The contact made Toshi’s stomach flutter, the same way it had the first time they’d kissed. Toshi had known then he was already falling in love with this man, and falling deeper every day. John parted his lips, surrendered to Toshi in the way that always made him feel wild. He pulled John against him. John’s skin was still warm and soft from the shower and the heat of his body shimmered through Toshi’s white shirt. Toshi slipped a hand into John’s hair, cupped the back of his head to pull their faces closer. He invaded John’s mouth, gliding the tip of his tongue over John’s. The moist heat sent thrills straight down into Toshi’s groin. His cock was already hard and his hazy mind was thinking they had just enough time to… The phone in the bedroom rang. 51

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Toshi’s heart thumped and he pulled away from their kiss. The phone rang again. “It must be Natsuka telling us he’s here.” Natsuka was driving him and John to the Temple of the White Tiger. He hurried into the bedroom and snatched up the phone before the answering machine could get it. “Moshi moshi.” “Toshiro.” Toshi’s blood went cold. Prickles of icy heat danced on his skin. “Father.” He sank onto the bed, frightened, and angry with himself for acting like a scared kid. A grown man who’d caught murderers and put his life at risk shouldn’t be reduced to a quivering mass of nerves at the sound of his father’s voice, but here he was. “Hello.” His father cleared his throat. The tension was apparently mutual. Toshi could never remember a time it wasn’t this way. He’d always been suspended…torn…between his father’s stern tension and his uncle’s kindness. “Toshiro, your mother and I wanted to see you today. There’s much to discuss.” Shit. Toshi raked a trembling hand through his hair. To his relief, John came into the room, buttoning up his shirt. He approached the bed and sat down next to Toshi. No doubt, even though John didn’t understand Japanese, he’d picked up on the tension and guessed who he was talking to. “Father, um, I want to see you also. I…have a…an emergency, however.” “Another case?” Toshi gripped the earpiece of the phone. His palm was sweating. His father didn’t know yet that Toshi had released Keiko from their engagement. Toshi knew he needed to tell him before it became clear that Keiko was settled in with Aoki. However, there was no time to tell him before he and John went looking for Imoru’s nephew. “Yes. It came up suddenly and is urgent.” On the other end of the line, Toshi heard his father exhale, a sound of frustration. Mazao Genjin had often made that sound, no matter how hard Toshi had tried to please him. “Well, as soon as you’re finished, I want to know when you and Keiko are finally going to get married.” Toshi’s heart thumped against his chest. “I know.” This was the first his father had said something about the wedding since Toshi and Keiko had announced their engagement. Without Musashi’s direct presence, his father was going to push harder. Pause. “Well…” “I’ll call you as soon as I can, Father.” As much as Toshi wanted to get this over with, some things just couldn’t be discussed over the telephone. “All right.” Toshi said good-bye to his father and hung up, still angry with himself for being so afraid. He looked up and saw John watching him, blue eyes sympathetic as always.

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“I’m sorry,” he murmured. John’s hand closed on his shoulder. “What can you possibly be sorry for?” He sighed and raked his fingers through his own hair again, noticing this time how much shorter it was now. He’d left it just long enough on top to do that. “For being so afraid.” John squeezed his shoulder. “Toshi, listen, you’re a damn good man, no matter how afraid you feel. Okay?” He looked at John. “Thank you.” Maybe John was wrong and he wasn’t a good man, but it sure was nice to hear. He reached out and cupped John’s cheek, brushed his thumb against his lover’s freshly shaved skin. The way those blue eyes looked at him, as if he were the most amazing person, was irresistible, and Toshi really appreciated what he’d found with this man. Michael had looked at him that way too all those years ago, but he hadn’t understood then how nearly impossible it was to find true love. Maybe if he had he wouldn’t have been able to leave so easily. Now? He was holding on for good… The phone rang in Toshi’s hand. He started, his heart thumping again before he realized what it was. He pressed the button and held it to his ear. “Moshi moshi.” “Toshi-san, good morning.” This time it was Natsuka’s customary kind greeting. “Natsuka, hello. Are you downstairs?” “Yes. I’m here.” “Come on up and we’ll discuss what we’re doing.” Toshi had thought everything out in the wee hours of the night when he couldn’t sleep. “Very good.” Toshi hung up and went to buzz his partner into the building. He really wanted nothing more than to get undressed, get into bed with John and stay there for about a week straight. If they hadn’t been going to a place that centered on eroticism, the thought of going undercover so soon after Musashi’s death would have been absolutely unbearable. As it was, he and John were going there under the pretense of relaxation and, perhaps, some spiritual practice. As long as it involved touching and tasting John’s naked body, he could handle it. *** Toshi’s gut tightened as the morning passed. He spent the time with John and Natsuka, carefully planning their strategy and constructing their stories. Adopting a false identity without full support would have been suicidal, especially when he could be recognized, so they were going to register as themselves, simply two men taking a well deserved vacation.

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After lunch in a nearby ramen bar, Natsuka drove them to the Temple of the White Tiger. If Toshi hadn’t already known that the Temple looked more like a fancy hotel on the outside, he would have missed it completely. Being part of the modern Shinjuku ni-Chome neighborhood it could have been in any modern city. The only thing that distinguished it were the images of a white tiger etched into the glass of its doors. Toshi got out of the car with a promise to get in touch with Natsuka as soon as possible, and then, with John close behind him, Toshi entered the hotel. No sooner had he stepped through into the small foyer than a sense of quiet enveloped him, not a dead, chilling quiet, but the quiet of a neat and orderly place. Indeed, the polished, flawless redwood floor and gorgeous calligraphy done on scrolls on the walls seemed tended to with care. “Nice place,” John’s voice sounded a bit breathy. Toshi looked at him, noting a slight flush under John’s tan. How quickly he’d gotten into the habit of making sure John wasn’t negatively affected by impressions. John glanced back and gave a brief nod. “I’m all right, Tosh.” A warm feeling flushed in Toshi’s chest at John’s use of a nickname for him. Not even Michael had shortened his name in that affectionate way. He smiled back. A soji screen led into the deeper interior but a sign, done in calligraphy, both in Japanese and in English instructed him to please ring the bell on the wall and wait. More of the same orderly quiet ensued while they waited. A young man, perhaps about thirty, came through the door into the small entry space. His attire was the first indication that they weren’t in an ordinary hotel. The attendant wore a sleeveless white vest open all the way down the front, which showed off his toned, golden skin and long, lean arm muscles. A simple pair of white shorts emphasized the sloping muscles of his thighs and calves. His sleek hair was short around the sides and a bit longer on top, like a soft ebony brush. The man’s dark eyes shone and he glowed with a look of vibrant health. “Welcome to the Temple, Genjin-san and Holmes-san,” he said in very good English. After a brief bow, he smiled. “My name is Koji. At your service. We’ve been expecting you.” Toshi returned the gesture. When making their reservation the day before, he’d been relieved to learn that English was spoken here. This would make things easier for both him and John. Koji bowed again and gestured to the door. “Please, come in., Genjin-san, Holmes-san. Your room is ready.” He slid back the screen and stood aside. The main lobby was beautiful. The polished redwood floors and sparse black furnishings reminded Toshi a bit of his own apartment. More soji screens divided the main lobby from whatever rooms were behind them, a contemporary take on the traditional Japanese home. Well, one thing missing from the typical Japanese home was the second handsome attendant, long glossy ebony hair 54

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captured in a ponytail, who approached them and immediately took their bags. This young man was taller than the first, almost Toshi’s height, his musculature thick and beefy. He, too, radiated good health. “Please,” he said, also in well-practiced English, “Allow me.” Toshi glanced sidelong at John who grinned at him. “I’m Naoto, your personal assistant during your stay here. Whatever you need, you may call on me. Follow me, please.” Toshi shot John another subtle look. John winked at him and they fell into step behind Naoto. This attendant also wore white shorts and his perfectly rounded buttocks strained against the thin material with each step he took. Toshi pulled his gaze away from Naoto’s behind so he could take stock of their surroundings. Since they were posing as guests of the hotel, all his surveillance would have to be surreptitious. He still wasn’t certain how John would be able to take impressions from people…well…in this place there was one way, but it meant having the other men here touch John. Toshi wasn’t sure his ego would be able to handle it. *** The air of the Temple practically thrummed with sex. John had first felt it in the entry foyer and the sensations only grew stronger the deeper into the place they went. He worked to keep his breathing steady and wished he were holding overnight bag in front of his pants to hide the growing bulge. The raw sexual desire of the other hotel patrons channeled through the corridor, skimmed along every nerve ending in his body, especially the ones in his cock. On the third floor, Naoto stopped at one soji screen and slid it back. “I hope you find your room comfortable.” The room reminded John a lot of Toshi’s bedroom. The only furnishings were a futon with a black coverlet and a nightstand on either side. However, instead of a kimono hanging on display, classic erotic drawings of nude men entwined and kissing adorned the walls. The only other decoration was a small potted palm that lent a splash of nature to the room. Naoto set down their bags and bowed to them. “Please, take as much time as you wish to settle in. When you’re ready, ring for me and I’ll bring you to meet Kiku Sensei. He greets all our guests and accompanies them to their first live presentation.” He indicated a button on the wall above one of the bedside tables. Live presentation. John cleared his throat. He could only imagine what that meant. He glanced at Toshi, sensing the same thought dart through Toshi’s mind. He followed Toshi’s example and bowed in return to the young man. “Thank you,” Toshi said. “We’ll ring.” 55

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Naoto bowed and left, sliding the door closed behind him. As soon as he was gone, John looked at Toshi and grinned again. “Live presentation?” Toshi returned his smile and John could see by his slightly flushed skin that the place was having its effect on Toshi as well. “I guess that’s self-explanatory.” He turned and paced the room, obviously doing his cop thing and taking stock of his surroundings. John watched Toshi move around the small incense-scented room, impressed as always by the smooth way Toshi moved and the shine of light on his ebony hair. Even short, his hair was incredible. He came up close to John. “So…what do you think?” His voice was soft, indicating the need not to be overheard. John grinned. “I think there is constant simmering of testosterone and lust.” Toshi’s eyebrows went up. “Are you serious?” He pulled back his jacket, letting Toshi see the way his hard-on now tented the front of his trousers. “I know I can rise to attention pretty quickly,” he said in a near-whisper, “but not usually just from walking through a building.” John followed Toshi’s gaze downward. Toshi’s full lips parted. John could see his lover’s dark eyes caught between astonishment and liking what he saw. He leaned in closer and pulled John close, pressing his forehead to John’s. “Any visuals?” John chuckled. “Not yet.” Toshi’s hand moved in a caressed on John’s hair. He then leaned in to John’s ear, so close, his breath tickled. “We’re going to have to proceed with caution.” His voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t talk about anything until we’re away from here.” John nodded. “I understand.” He didn’t have to be a detective to figure out that a place like this had ears everywhere. After a moment, he found himself smiling again. “So, when should we go see this live presentation?” Toshi chuckled. “In a few minutes I’ll ring the bell. I just need to collect my thoughts.” John went to the bureau and picked up one of the robes. He unfolded it and held it up. “Are we supposed to change into these?” He watched Toshi consider the practically sheer, above-the-knee-length white robe. It was usual to go around in a kimono like that when in the saunas. Then Toshi nodded. “Yes.” John grinned. He set the robe down and began unbuttoning his shirt. “Well, you know the old saying.”

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Toshi’s eyes widened, and John could see his lover’s gaze captured on John’s fingers as they worked open his buttons. “Which saying?” John’s hands went to the buckle of his belt. “When in Rome.”

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CHAPTER SIX

Toshi grinned at John. He’d just tied the sash of his white silk kimono and asked, ‘Well, what do you think?’ The hem of the robe reached only to mid-thigh, giving Toshi a nice eyeful of rounded, tanned thigh and calf muscles sprinkled with golden hair. He even liked the shape of John’s feet. “Just right for me. Only I think you’re not going to be wearing it that long.” John chuckled in spite of the bloom of color that infused his cheeks. Toshi’s heart gave a small thump. John’s shy streak was…well…as arousing as it was sweet. “Hey, thanks. Same to you.” Appreciation darkened the blue of John’s eyes, making Toshi feel naked under his identically short, revealing kimono. Wait, he was naked under his kimono. Toshi felt his own cheeks warm a bit. Damn, if he was this nervous alone with John in their room, how was he going to be downstairs where who knows exactly what was about to happen? He glanced down. “I guess I’ll ring for that attendant.” “Sounds like a plan.” John’s voice had a touch of shyness to it as well. Toshi pressed the doorbell-like button on the wall by the bed and they waited. In less than a minute, Naoto slid back the screen and bowed. With John beside him, Toshi followed Naoto back down he steps the bottom floor. Naoto led them to a door off the central inner courtyard. He slid it aside and stepped back, ushering them into the softly lit, incense-scented room. From an unseen speaker, a single stringed instrument played Japanese cadences, no doubt to heighten the blended atmosphere of eroticism and spiritual practice. There was no furniture in the room except for tatamis and futons on the smoothly polished floor. A man sat in seiza at one end of the room. As Toshi drew closer, he noticed his strong features and dark, intense eyes. A white robe hung loosely about his body, displaying his supple form of smooth muscles. “Welcome, gentlemen. I’m Kikuchiya Fujimara.” He rose to his feet and moved toward them. “Please, call me Kiku.” Kiku bowed and as he did, his white kimono gaped, revealing a series of tattoos that marked the otherwise clear golden skin of his smooth, hairless chest. Toshi’s gut tightened. He bowed, surreptitiously observed the series of white tigers in ink, leaping over Kiku’s skin from the base of his neck to the ankle of one leg. The splash of designs was interrupted only by the portions of his beautiful physique that remained covered by the robe.

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Toshi glanced at John. Their eyes met and Toshi saw a flash of understanding in him. Definite yakuza markings. Made sense, considering Fujimara’s illegal gambling arrest. Kiku straightened and cast a look at Toshi and then briefly at John. “Won’t you join me?” “Thank you.” As he knelt at the table, Toshi watched the other man carefully for signs of recognition. So far, there seemed to be none. Kiku bowed again. “Come and sit. We’ll get acquainted and then see what best will serve your pleasure.” He picked up the pot and poured. “So, gentlemen, you are on vacation?” Toshi’s eye fell on the man’s hand and he pulled in a breath. If he was seeing right, the top portion of Kiku’s pinkie finger was missing. Yakuza for sure. Toshi feigned calm and proceeded to the table. Kiku had performed yubizume, finger cutting, a traditional yakuza way of apologizing for wrongdoing or to mark a man permanently for having left the organization. Toshi made a mental note to tell Natsuka what he’d found at first chance. Toshi looked at John to see if he’d noticed Kiku’s hand. His blue eyes looked distracted and his face was flushed as it had been when they first came into the hotel. Perhaps John was being too affected by the sexual vibes in the place to have noticed Fujimara’s mutilated finger. “Yes.” Toshi accepted the cup of tea his host had poured. “I have recently had a death in the family and after the funeral, needed time away from the stress.” “Of course. I am sorry for your loss but honored that you chose the White Tiger. We will do what we can to help.” The table was set so that John and Toshi knelt at each end on a cushion with Kiku between them. Kiku served their tea; his movements were fluid and graceful. Toshi guessed the man’s age at about forty. Kiku exuded an air of confidence and worldliness rarely found in a man say, Yuzo’s age. In watching Kiku, Toshi began to have a sense of why Yuzo would be taken with him. Kiku’s confidence and outward serenity, as well as his physical beauty would be very attractive to a younger man, lost, searching for someone to comfort him. Kiku gestured to them to drink their tea. He then settled into a kneeling position and picked up his own cup. “I don’t know how much you know about our path,” he said, “but the way of the White Tiger began centuries ago in China. The spiritual path was originally known as the teaching of the White Tigress, a way of balancing the forces of yin and yang using male and female energy. The woman practitioner was the Tigress and the man, the Jade Dragon. I learned of this path on a trip to Shanghai ten years ago and consequently adapted it for men to practice with each other.” Toshi’s mind went to work on its profile of the man. Shortly after his arrest, he’d gone to China, come back with this religion and went straight. So to speak. 59

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Kiku paused and took another sip of his tea. When he set the cup down, he looked directly at Toshi. “The only question I need to ask both of you is what direction you wish your time here to take. Some guests prefer simply to experience pleasure, to enjoy the beauty of the disciples here, while others seek spiritual practice.” He fell silent and sipped his tea again. Toshi sipped his tea while he pondered an answer. Kiku was the consummate host, every word, every movement perfectly timed, meant to give his guest the feeling of being completely in control. Damn, he wished he could ask John right in this moment what impression he was getting. He glanced at his lover. Judging by the sheen of sweat on John’s forehead and the glaze in his eyes…The look made an uncomfortable feeling in his gut, one he couldn’t act on right now. He pulled his thoughts back to the question. He thought of his lovemaking with John, to the way he always threw himself on his lover, devouring him like a man possessed. John didn’t seem to mind at all, but Toshi still wanted to learn a different way, to be as kind and loving with John as John was with him. “A bit of both, I suppose,” he said, surprised at his own answer. He glanced at John, noticing that his lover’s cheeks had flushed again. Unfortunately, Toshi couldn’t be sure whether the flush was from what he’d said or from John’s response to the vibes in the room. Kiku smiled. “Ah, I see. You are uncertain. This, of course, is no problem.” He picked up a bell and rang it. In the next moment, the soji screen door slid back and Naoto stepped into the room, followed by Koji. Both men, Toshi noticed immediately, had removed their vests and shorts and now wore only small loincloths that looked as though they could be undone by the simple pull of a string. Both young men stopped in the area covered with futons, a mixture of stage and bed, in plain view of anyone seated at the table. The soft lights cast an enticing glow on their skin and muscles, glinting off their hair and in their dark eyes. Holy shit! Toshi’s gut tightened and his heartbeat sped up. Live demonstration. The reality hit him. He glanced at John again. His lover’s gaze also rested on the two young men, though his eyes didn’t appear completely focused. Toshi resisted the impulse to reach out and touch him. He didn’t want to risk one misstep. “Naoto and Koji have chosen each other as partners on the path of the White Tiger,” Kiku gestured toward the two men. “They are very devoted disciples and have both made excellent progress since they came here. When a guest asks for spiritual practice, I ask these two to give them an initial taste of the path. Naoto and Koji are splendid examples of what is possible when one uses the human sexual drive in service of spirit.” Kiku nodded to Naoto and Koji. As soon as he’d given them the obvious signal to begin, Naoto turned to Koji. The two men gazed at each other, their looks absorbed as if they were alone in the room. Naoto lifted both hands to Koji’s face, brushed his fingertips down the planes of Koji’s cheeks. The gesture, though small, conveyed to Toshi a sense of reverence from one man to the other.

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Within moments, Koji’s dark eyes took on a velvety sheen. His gaze locked on Naoto’s eyes, his sculpted chest rose and fell more deeply, his lips parted. The two young men seemed already lost in their own world. Toshi felt the first stirrings of arousal pierce his embarrassment, the telltale tightening in his balls that preceded an erection. He glanced at John whose eyes were dusky in the light, his tanned cheeks slightly flushed. Kiku went on. “The path of the White Tiger is not about mere gratification of the sexual drive. It is about attention. When one partner touches the other, he takes the time to appreciate the texture and scent of the skin and hair, the taste of the lips, the rise and fall of his lover’s breath. This appreciation elevates the sexual act to something I would call holy.” As Kiku spoke, Naoto’s hands were moving over Koji’s face, caressing his short sleek hair, smoothing it back with tenderness. Koji was slightly shorter and narrower in build, and, Toshi could see that their bodies would fit perfectly together, as if they’d been made for each other. While Naoto stroked Koji’s hair, he leaned closer and pressed his ripe full lips over Koji’s. Toshi saw Koji’s eyelids shutter, heard him sigh. Watching Koji surrender to his lover was intensely erotic. The kiss deepened. Naoto pressed his lips more firmly to Koji’s, slowly, with deliberate softness. Naoto’s long hair shifted across his back as he moved, bringing Toshi’s attention momentarily to the man’s broad muscles. Naoto’s large hands cradled Koji’s head, thumbs resting on Koji’s cheeks while he kissed him. Toshi’s body tightened. He found himself staring at their lips, as if the entire world were focused in that kiss. The tenderness made him ache. Such a contrast to the way he approached John, like a starving beast, not a lover. Watching Naoto, Toshi found he envied the way the man coaxed surrender from his partner rather than overwhelmed him by attack. He glanced at John. His lover’s gaze was riveted on the two men and John’s breathing had deepened. The sheen of sweat on his forehead showed the effect the display was having on him. Minutes passed and Naoto continued to kiss his lover. His head moved slightly with each slide of his lips over Koji’s. Naoto appeared to be completely savoring his lover’s mouth. The two men stood at such an angle that Toshi could see Naoto’s tongue slide between Koji’s lips, mouths fully open, conveying the intimacy of their kiss. Instead of becoming tedious, each slide of the two men’s lips together sent another wave of potent heat through Toshi’s body. “The teachings of the White Tigress have always stressed the importance of oral stimulation,” Kiku continued over the murmured sighs of the lovers. His voice conveyed respectful awareness of his guest’s fascinated state while still offering instruction. “The mouth is one of the primary doorways through which a human being experiences life. In 61

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every stage, from infancy to adolescence, we connect with others largely through suckling, licking, tasting, speaking. Satisfying this very primal human need allows one to relive all stages of development and embrace one’s completeness. I have retained this principle in my interpretation of the path. As you can see, it’s no less beautiful here.” Toshi worked to listen intently to what Kiku was saying, not an easy task now that his blood circulation had begun to leave his brain and concentrate down below. The sound of heavy breathing close by made him turn. John was staring at the two men. His blue eyes were so wide, Toshi didn’t know they could open that much. A strange sheen covered them, making John appear to be in a trance state. John didn’t glance back, as if he didn’t sense Toshi’s gaze on him at all. An uncomfortable sensation curled in Toshi’s gut. However, not to appear rude, he turned his attention back onto the demonstration. “The scientific explanation for the importance of oral activity,” Kiku went on, “is that it reminds the psyche and the body of its adolescent stage of sexual development, a time when the body was nearing its height of erotic capabilities and awakening to the need for pleasure. To concentrate activity in the mouth stimulates these memories of youth and rejuvenates the mind and body. However, kissing is only one crucial stage of the path.” As if to emphasize Kiku’s narrative, Naoto pulled his lips from Koji’s and kissed a sensuous trail down his throat. Koji tilted his head back, eyes closed. A tiny smile curved his full lips. Naoto bent his knees as his path moved lower on the slimmer man’s body. His hands had slipped from Koji’s head and now encircled the slim muscles of his upper arms. Naoto slowed his path of kisses, swirled the tip of his tongue in the hollow at the base of Koji’s throat and then, slipping his hands around to cradle Koji’s back, tilted his lover’s slender torso to cover his chest with more kisses. Naoto’s hands slipped down Koji’s arms as he knelt, coming to rest on his hips. Naoto then dragged his tongue down the center of Koji’s tight stomach. With his lips resting on Koji’s navel, Naoto pulled the string of Koji’s loincloth, and the small white cloth dropped to the floor. Toshi’s breath caught in his throat. So beautiful. So erotic, watching one man pleasure the other. Mere days ago, Toshi would have shied away from watching such a thing, but now he watched, entranced, much the same way he had so many years ago, rewinding that tape of Seven Samurai so that he could watch Toshiro Mifune bathe in the river in only a loincloth. The same ache for freedom had squeezed his heart then as it did now. Koji’s cock stood in a rigid upward curve from his slim body. His buttocks were perfect—round and strong—and they fitted in Naoto’s large hands as if they’d been made for him. Naoto feathered his tongue around Koji’s belly button. Koji moaned softly, tilted his head back. 62

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His hands laced into Naoto’s long hair. For a long time, Naoto feathered his tongue over his partner’s stomach, tracing the lines of his abdominal muscles. Koji’s fingers worked in Naoto’s hair, conveying the pleasure his lover gave him. It seemed to be forever that Naoto smoothed his hands over Koji’s buttocks, squeezing and kneading them, before he let his touch slide around to his lover’s front. Even then, Naoto skated his hands up and down Koji’s thighs, front and back, avoiding Koji's taut cock. He caressed his lover, only brushing his fingertips over Koji’s balls and the base of his cock. Finally, Naoto lowered his face to the reddish-gold shaft and captured the plump head in his mouth. Naoto rested his mouth on the head of Koji’s cock. He slid his hands back around to Koji’s bottom and caressed him in the same reverent, tender way he’d touched his lover’s face and hair. “You’ll notice as they proceed, that Naoto takes a great deal of time with the tiniest of details.” Kiku’s voice, though calm, shook Toshi. He blinked, realizing that he had been lost in an erotic trance. Again, he glanced at John to see if his lover still watched with the same fascination. He did. Blue eyes were transfixed on the two men. John’s chest rose and fell deeply, and again, he didn’t glance away. Toshi almost reached across to shake him, but something held him back. Something he didn’t understand but sensed…perhaps not unlike the way John sensed things. “There is not one fraction of Koji’s dragon on which Naoto does not lavish attention,” Kiku said. His voice pulled Toshi’s look away from John. “Naoto’s entire consciousness exists only of Koji’s body, the taste of his dragon against Naoto’s tongue, the scent of his sex and the sounds of his pleasure.” Kiku’s voice became a seductive mantra, a backdrop to the two men in front of them. Toshi could barely feel his own breath rising and falling, his body both hard and languid, his gaze riveted on the sight of Naoto’s tongue sliding up and down the length of his partner’s cock. With each stroke of Naoto’s lips and tongue up the erect shaft, Koji took a deep breath, sighing, his head tilted back, fingers wound into on Naoto’s hair. Naoto cupped Koji’s balls in one hand. His fingertips played lightly over the sac while he made love to Koji with his mouth. Naoto pulled back until his lips surrounded only the head of Koji’s cock. He moved slowly, deliberately, never breaking his mouth’s contact with the reddish, silky skin of his lover’s erection. Koji’s shoulders sagged and he leaned into Naoto, whose hands supported his pliant body. His head lolled back and that contented smile he wore deepened. His eyes remained closed, the dark fringes of his eyelashes rested on his cheeks. Indeed, his expression conveyed a state of complete absorption…pleasured, but also serene. Toshi’s erection strained painfully now and he glanced at John. The flush in his lover’s face had deepened and he continued to watch the two men with complete raptness.

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Toshi stared at John a moment longer, brow furrowed. If he wasn’t mistaken, a tiny, faraway smile curved John’s lips, similar to Koji’s. John’s shoulders sagged a bit as well, as if his body were pliant like Koji’s. One of John’s hands rested on the tabletop, giving Toshi the sense that this was what braced John’s weight. Reluctantly, Toshi looked back up. His body, especially his cock, ached for release and if he’d been alone with John in that moment, he knew he would have thrown himself onto his lover, feasted on him with the same heated passion he could never resist. But Naoto never increased the speed of his suckling. The muscles of his jaw tensed and relaxed in an even rhythm as he pleasured Koji. Eyes closed, Naoto descended once again, took the entire length of Koji’s hard cock into his mouth. Naoto, too, seemed lost in a blissful world of pleasuring his partner. The exchange of tender lovemaking between Naoto and Koji did not grow heated or zealous, but remained steady, warm, a constant thrumming of erotic languor. Toshi sighed. He hadn’t even begun this path and he already felt like a failure. A quiet chuckle from his host broke his musings. Toshi looked up and saw Kiku smiling at him. “Do not worry, Inspector. This path is for anyone who is sincere. I believe you are sincere.” A strange shiver up coursed up Toshi’s spine, as if the man had read his thoughts and fears in the way John did. In spite of the arousal plowing through his body, Toshi’s police instincts kicked in. He couldn’t let himself forget the reason he and John were really here. At least, he couldn’t forget why they were here. Once glance at John, and it seemed his lover had forgotten everything… A soft groan from Koji pulled Toshi’s attention back to the two men in front of him. Naoto’s head bobbed on his lover’s cock and the energy in the room grew more heated, the scent of male sex mingling with the incense. Suddenly, Naoto lifted his mouth away and looked up at Koji. Naoto’s lips gleamed in the light, his almond-shaped eyes dusky. A lock of his long hair had fallen across his face. Koji’s chest rose and fell heavily and he dropped to his knees, so that his face was even with Naoto’s. Koji pushed back the errant strand of hair, which he tucked behind Naoto’s ear. Toshi sighed again. He envied John’s seeming immersion, while the scene before him only made him feel wild. What use were his years of training in various martial arts, the years of meditation he’d practiced? He’d developed his powers of concentration, but nothing like what John seemed to have. Toshi felt suddenly inexplicably shy and turned slowly back to Naoto and Koji. Both men knelt facing each other, their bodies only inches apart. Koji’s hands rested on Naoto’s broad chest. Toshi watched Koji’s hands, observed the way Koji’s brushed small caresses over Naoto’s skin. Naoto’s hands remained at his sides, his head tilted back. In the same way that Koji had surrendered to Naoto, now Naoto seemed to have surrendered to him. Toshi felt his cheeks burn and he looked briefly towards his lover. This was how he wanted to 64

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approach John, with reverence, respect, tenderness. When he looked back up at the two men, Koji now circled his lover’s nipples with the pads of his thumbs. The dark brown tips hardened under Koji’s touch and Toshi heard Naoto’s breath catch. Koji leaned forward and pressed a kiss onto Naoto’s chest. His hands slid down Naoto’s stomach and around to his back. He caressed the broad expanse of Naoto’s back muscles and then his hips. He stopped when his fingertips met the tie of the broader man’s loincloth. He pulled the strings of the cloth, which fell open and slipped to the floor. A shiver passed through Toshi’s body. Naoto’s thick, erect cock jutted upward. Like Koji, Naoto’s buttocks were round and hard, perfectly sculpted and leading the eye to his muscled thighs. Toshi expected Koji to take hold of Naoto’s erection and begin caressing, but he didn’t. Koji continued to gaze at his partner. Both men breathed heavily, visibly holding back, prolonging the moment. Slowly, Koji reached up. His delicate hands closed over Naoto’s broad shoulders. In slow circles, he caressed the muscles, a massage that made Naoto’s eyes flutter closed. Only after several long moments did Koji lean forward, eyes closed and press his lips tenderly to Naoto’s. Toshi’s hand fisted his kimono. He looked down and released the pressure. His breath was tight, as if he were using his own energy to hold back the passion. As they had before, the two men remained kissing, tongues in a slow, languorous exploration. Naoto moved closer to Koji, pulled his lover against him so that their cocks touched. Toshi stared. How did they do it? How did one of them not just get so aroused he exploded? They remained in each other’s embrace, hands caressing, mouths savoring their kiss. Koji moved his hips slowly, back and forth, brushed his firm cock against Naoto’s. Naoto groaned into his lover’s mouth. Now it seemed that Koji was working the larger man into a more heated state. The back and forth brush of his groin pulled a groan from Naoto who chafed his hands in agitated circles on Koji’s back. Naoto slid his hands to Koji’s shoulders. He pulled away from their kiss and lowered Koji onto his back, maneuvered their bodies until the two men were in a sixty-nine. Toshi gaped, unable to look away. He didn’t know when his fascination had become sheer awe. Need pounded through him and he felt his inhibitions beginning to melt away with the desire to be with John then and there, regardless of who else was in the room. John’s even breathing reached his ear. He turned. His lover’s blue gaze was still riveted, yet still far away. Naoto straddled Koji’s body. His thick arms flexed with his downward dip to take Koji’s straining cock into his mouth again, while Koji took his. Their bodies moved like one now. Both men groaned softly, their mouths worked each other’s cocks, lips sliding up and down each shaft with deliberate slowness. Koji’s hands rested on Naoto’s buttocks and his dark head moved up and 65

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down from the futon on which he rested. His eyes closed, dark lashes resting on his cheeks while he pleasured Naoto. Toshi continued to stare at them, his own mouth watering. He breathed heavily and his balls tightened mercilessly with the need for release. Suddenly, Naoto’s body stiffened. The muscles of his body went rigid, eyes shut tight. His mouth stilled on Koji’s cock, and he moaned. Koji’s head bobbed faster, his throat moving as he swallowed the seed from his lover’s climax. After several moments, Naoto’s body relaxed and he went back to sucking his lover’s cock. Naoto’s mouth slid up and down the rigid shaft, his movements slightly more vigorous than before until Koji cried out, Naoto’s seed still gleaming on his lips. He lifted his pelvis, pushing his cock deeper into Naoto’s mouth. Toshi watched the shaft slide between his eager lips, throat working visibly with each swallow of his lover’s come. Koji wilted against the futon, breathing heavily. Naoto carefully climbed off him and lay down next to Koji, arms around him and pulled him close. Long after the two men had climaxed and lay quietly, caressing each other’s hair and backs, Toshi watched them, unable to pull his gaze away. Naoto and Koji had obviously worked very hard together and built a level of trust and caring that enabled them to make love in this incredible way. Toshi looked at John and found him still captivated. His blue eyes were large, trained on the two men and his chest rose and fell visibly under the thin material of his kimono. Naoto and Koji rose and turned to the table. Together they knelt, heads bowed. Toshi turned to Kiku. “That was truly…beautiful.” Kiku bowed to him. “I am glad to see that Koji and Naoto’s devotion is so obvious.” He looked at Toshi and then at John. “If you wish to begin now, I would be pleased to guide you.” He nodded. “Yes, now would be fine. John—” Kiku’s brow furrowed as the man looked at John. Toshi looked too and his insides jumped. John was still staring straight ahead even though Naoto and Koji were no longer on the futon. “Oh my god, John!” He surged forward, but a hand on his arm stopped him. “Don’t touch him.” Kiku’s voice was firm, almost stern. Toshi pulled back. His heart pounded as he remembered other times when John appeared like this. “Something’s wrong.”

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But Kiku shook his head as he lifted his hand from Toshi’s arm. He seemed to study John’s face before a placid smile stretched his lips. “No, Genjin-san, something is right.” No sooner had Kiku spoken than John’s shoulders slumped and he fell over

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CHAPTER SEVEN

After doing the necessary work at the station, Natsuka returned to Ni-Chome and walked into a small bar two blocks from where he’d dropped off Toshi and John. He seated himself on a stool at the bar, hoping that his linen trousers and jacket and the Hawaiian print shirt gave him the look of a Tokyo businessman trying to relax and find some male companionship. To help Toshi, he’d do just about anything, but, as he was not the least bit attracted to men, he hoped he wouldn’t have to go too far with this disguise. Toshi believed that Natsuka deferred to him because of his samurai lineage, but Toshi was wrong. Perhaps that had been true initially, but had changed during their partnership. Something about Toshi brought out Natsuka’s protective instincts and over their four years working together. In many ways, Toshi was the son he and Tamiyo had never had. Their own son had died from illness when he was barely out of the cradle and Tamiyo hadn’t been able to conceive again. If he had survived, Seiji would have been twenty now. But he hadn’t, and so Natsuka had spent the last four years living a vicarious fatherhood. Toshi had all the qualities Natsuka would have wanted Seiji to have: courage, loyalty, and kindness, to name a few. The fact that Toshi was planning to move to America in the near future depressed Natsuka to no end, but for now, he was going to do whatever he could to help Toshi find the missing young man. The bartender greeted Natsuka and took his order for saké. As he waited, he glanced around the small place. Only a few people were there, a couple of men talking together at one of the tables and another man, probably in his mid-thirties, sitting at the bar, watching a newscast on the TV set up in the corner. No one paid Natsuka any mind and after a few minutes, he began to wonder if he gave off straight vibes or something that made him unapproachable. The bartender set down his saké, pouring a small amount into the tiny cup from the decanter. Natsuka put coins down. “Hey, I just moved down from the north, but a cousin of mine has been here a few years. We lost touch but I’m hoping maybe someone has seen him.” The man swiped at the counter with a cloth. “You have a picture?” “Hai.” Natsuka reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the photo of Yuzo. The bartender studied the picture for several moments and Natsuka watched his face for signs of recognition, but there were none. The man shook his head and handed Natsuka back the photo. “Never seen him. He looks a bit young to come around this place. A kawaii lon-ge boy like him wouldn’t come around here.” Cute and long-haired. Natsuka recognized the terms the man used. Good thing Toshi had briefed 68

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Natsuka on the language and structure of Tokyo’s gay community. “Do you know where he might go?” The bartender shrugged. “You could try the Black Box. It’s a popular hattenba. The younger ones tend to go there.” “Where’s that?” “Shijuku-ku. Not a far walk from here. I’ll write down the address for you.” He scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to Natsuka. Briefly he explained to Natsuka where to go when he left the bar. “Thanks.” He dropped the photo back into his jacket pocket and stood up to leave. He was aware that he’d only taken one small sip of his saké, but not knowing how many bars he’d have to go into during his search, he thought it best to stay sober. Hopefully, the bartender’s response would save him several hours of pounding the pavement, looking in every single bar. He followed the directions the bartender had given him. While he was somewhat familiar with the area, having brought his nieces to the shopping district here for the New Year’s Eve celebrations, he’d never sought out the sort of place he was looking for now. He found himself on a tree-lined street with motorcycles parked every few feet along the tile-paved sidewalk. It was just after sunset when he identified the two-story building he sought. He went in and upstairs. There were no signs, other than the number of the address and a young man sitting at table. Lockers lined the wall behind him. The chubby guy at the table looked Natsuka up and down. “Sir, I don’t mean any offense, but this is a younger crowd. You might not have much luck here.” Natsuka held up his hand. “I understand that.” He decided to change his story a bit. “I’m looking for someone. We…uh…broke up some time ago and he moved down here. I…miss him and hope to work things out. Maybe you’ve seen him?” He pulled out the photo of Yuzo and showed it to the attendant. The attendant studied the photo in much the same way as the bartender had. He shook his head. “I don’t know him, but Mojo might. He’s inside. You won’t have trouble identifying him. He’s a lon ge like the guy in the picture. He’ll be wearing a tattoo of the moon and stars and nothing else.” “Hai. Thank you.” Natsuka paid the entry fee and the attendant handed him a plastic bag and a key, a slip with a locker number and a second key for the shower locker. Natsuka accepted the items, locked his shoes in the designated locker and went through the door, into the hattenba. He found himself in a long, dimly lit hallway. To his left was a large room with no door. There were couches around the room and a television in the corner. The room was as shadowy as the hallway and Natsuka could just make out the images of men sitting around on the couches, chatting with each other. One couple was entwined, making out. Natsuka scanned the room discreetly. No one was naked, as the attendant said Mojo would be.

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With a sigh, Natsuka turned, finding a door marked ”locker room”. Next place to look. There and the bath or sauna. He changed into the white robe the attendant had given him and locked up his clothes. He also slipped his badge into the robe's pocket. You never knew when you might need it. One other man was changing at the same time he was and Natsuka glanced at him. No tattoos. Natsuka slung his towel over his shoulder and followed the other man through a second door into a bathing room. The air was hot and steamy and two large, deep set pools filled practically the entire space with room only for a wooden bench along the back wall, showers along the other and a path to get to the tubs. He scanned the room. Several men sat around in each tub, all of them naked, of course. Some were sitting alone, others chatting and then, there were two guys kissing. One of the couple had shortcropped hair, the other’s was long. Natsuka’s instincts told him that he’d found Mojo, even though he couldn’t yet see a tattoo. He showered, keeping a discreet eye on the guy he suspected was Mojo, then turned and descended into the same tub. Several more men had entered the bathing room since Natsuka had. None of the other patrons were much over the age of thirty and aside from a few curious glances, no one paid him any attention. In spite of his strong build, he began to feel all of his fifty years. He sank down onto the built-in seating in the tub and leaned back, pretending to enjoy the steaming hot water. The subject of his surveillance was oblivious to anything else but the man he was kissing and their murmured sighs carried through the air, mingled with the other muted conversations going on in the bathroom. Suddenly, the longhaired man shifted in the water. He lifted a thigh and straddled his partner. Natsuka trained his gaze on the guy’s back. Bam. The moon and stars tattoo appeared above the water line. Body tensed and ready, Natsuka waited patiently, enduring the sex session that was going on a few feet away from him. He heard Mojo murmur something in his partner’s ear and they pulled apart, started to get out of the water. Natsuka sat up. “Excuse me, are you Mojo?” The young man whipped around. His eyes darkened with suspicion and he backed up, closer to his companion. “Why?” Natsuka smiled, trying to come off as harmless. His trained detective’s eye could see that Mojo was a pretty boy who’d been treated badly, like a much-whipped dog. “The attendant outside told me you might be able to help me find a friend of mine.” Mojo narrowed his eyes. He backed up, closer to the steps of the pool. “Who…who’s your friend?” Natsuka noticed they’d caught the attention of the other patrons. He felt the stares on his back. “Yuzo Kitano.”

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Mojo’s eyes widened and his lips parted. Fear glazed the young man’s entire face, like a kabuki mask. He whipped around with a splash of water, pushed away from his companion, and scrambled up the steps. Natsuka vaulted from the pool and took off after him. He skidded a bit on the wet tiles but balanced himself and kept going. Mojo, however, did slip in his haste to escape. Natsuka lunged. His larger body impacted Mojo’s and they tumbled to the floor. Mojo writhed and struggled, but Natsuka held him prisoner under his broader frame. In seconds he had Mojo face down on the floor, one knee pushing into Mojo’s buttocks, one hand pinning Mojo’s head down, cheek to the tiles. In the background, he heard splashing and murmuring of obviously astonished witnesses. “I’m not going to hurt you,” Natsuka said. “All I asked was a simple question.” “I don’t have to talk to you.” Mojo’s voice was muffled by the floor against his cheek. In spite of Natsuka’s hold, the thin guy still struggled. Natsuka lowered his mouth to Mojo’s ear. “You do now. I’m a cop. I’m looking for Yuzo Kitano and you can talk here or down at the station, your choice.” Of course, he really had nothing on Mojo at all, but he worked his bluff hard, hoping the kid would buy it. He must have, for Mojo’s body went slack. “Not the station, please.” “Fine.” Mojo’s friend stood nearby, peering down at Mojo anxiously. Natsuka scanned their anxious audience. “Everyone out, except you.” He looked pointedly at Mojo’s companion. In moments, the steamy bathing room was empty except for Natsuka and the two young men. “Bring me that robe,” he told the shorthaired guy, pointing to the hook where it was hanging. Wordlessly, Mojo’s partner retrieved Natuska's robe. Natsuka took it from him and while still restraining Mojo, fished his wallet out of the pocket. “Here’s my proof.” He flashed his badge in front of Mojo’s face, before showing it to the other man. Mojo sank down with a deep sigh. “Get him a towel,” Natsuka told Mojo’s friend. The young man obeyed, covering himself and dropping a second towel down beside Mojo. “Now, I’ll let you up…slowly…and if you try to run, I’ll pin you down again and then arrest you for obstruction of justice. Got that?” He looked down at the back of Mojo’s head, still pinned under his hand. He let up the pressure just enough to feel Mojo nod. “Hai. I won’t try to run.” Mojo sounded desperate enough to be telling the truth.

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Slowly, Natsuka released him; only slipping his own robe on when he was sure that Mojo and his friend weren’t about to make another attempt to flee. Natsuka dismissed the other guy and directed Mojo over to the bench against the wall. He sat down and Natsuka stood in front of him. “How long have you known Yuzo Kitano?” Natsuka folded his arms in front of his chest and puffed up a bit, a silent warning for Mojo not to lie or to try and escape.

Mojo shrugged. “I don’t know. A few years. We both showed up around here about the same time.

I’m from Okinawa. I came here to be myself.” He looked down and shrugged again. “So did he.”

“What kind of relationship did you have with him?”

Mojo looked at him sullenly. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Not to me.”

Mojo huffed. “We…you know…went together.”

That sounded true enough, but Natsuka had been at this business too long not to hear that Mojo

wasn’t telling him everything. “Were you both bosozoku?” At that, the kid’s eyes glazed over again. His mouth set into a line. A gesture that Natsuka recognized as saying, “fuck you. I won’t squeal.” Fair enough. He didn’t want to be responsible for this kid’s getting murdered or, if not that, having to cut one of his fingers off to mollify an angry yak. For now, he’d change tactics. “So, what happened? Did you and Yuzo have a falling out?” Relief slipped into Mojo’s eyes at the shift in questioning, but just as quickly darkened again, now with a new emotion. Looked like jealousy to Natsuka. “We broke up, but still hung out. Then he disappeared. I wasn’t good enough for him anymore.” “Did he say that?”

Mojo looked down. “No. He just never came around. How would you feel? The one time he did

come to see me he was all happy, talking about this Kiku guy at that place he got involved with.”

That part Natsuka already knew was true. But the kid was still hiding something. “Are you

referring to the Temple of the White Tiger?”

Mojo started as if Natsuka had shocked him by knowing what he was talking about. “Yeah.”

“How did he get to know about this place?”

Mojo shrugged. The gesture seemed to be a signature of his. “He went there with…someone.”

“Who?”

Mojo’s eyes clouded and his features tensed visibly. That “fuck you” look resurfaced.

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Ah. That was it. “Speak.” Natsuka stepped toward him.

Mojo stared at him. He began to shiver as if the room had turned cold.

Natsuka changed tactics. “Do you know why he ended up staying at the Temple?”

Mojo looked down. “He… He wanted to get away from…someone.”

Damn. Someone. There had been two men in John Holmes’s visions, the guy with the mole on his

cheek and the yak covered with the traditional tattoos. Sounded like both of them were involved

here.

Natsuka forced himself to take a deep breath and not get pushy. He wanted to get the truth out of

the kid without terrorizing him or getting him into trouble that led to the grave. “Someone? You?”

Mojo shook his head. “No, not from me.”

“From whom, then? Do you have a name?”

The fear intensified on Mojo’s features. Natsuka’s mind flitted over what John Holmes had been

saying about his vision of seeing Yuzo being whipped. Natsuka was close to some kind of answer.

He could feel it in his detective’s bones. Just a little push. “All right, time to go to the station.” Mojo cringed. “He called himself Joe, all right? Like the American name. All we know is he had a mole on his cheek. Here.” Mojo tapped his own cheek. Natsuka’s gut clenched. Mojo was still hiding something, but at least there was some connection. That was one of the things John Holmes had seen in his visions. “When’s the last time you saw this Joe?” Mojo shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know. He comes around sometimes. He likes The Luck Club. More older guys go there.”

Natsuka ignored the little barb about his age. Maybe one day when he could no longer kick the

asses of guys half his age, he’d let it bother him.

Mojo squared his shoulders suddenly. “I have Saki now. I don’t bother with Yuzo. Or anyone else.”

He glanced at the door. “Can I go now?”

Natsuka sighed and stepped back. There was no sense pressing the kid further. Mojo was almost

definitely a bosozoku and ran all kinds of errands for the local yakuza. But, he might need to

question Mojo again and couldn’t risk scaring him away.

Mojo rose slowly from the bench, watching Natsuka with a wary look as if the policeman would change his mind and haul him in. Natsuka followed him out into the hall where Mojo took Saki’s arm and pulled him into the room with all the couches. Natsuka went to the locker room, dressed and went out to sit down somewhere and make some 73

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notes before he reported in to Toshi.

Unfortunately, however, as often happened, finding out answers often left more questions.

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CHAPTER EIGHT

I’m in heaven. John could feel his mouth smiling even though he couldn’t see his body. Blackness, twinkling lights, and only a hum of peace, like crickets. Floating in nothingness. His mind tried to comprehend, but the trying was stressful, so he gave up. Maybe I could just stay here. The thought floated through the space, dissolved into the velvety darkness and small blinking lights. Just to stay here. He didn’t want anything else. Or did he? Floating amid these blinking lights, with no worries, no cares, was very tempting. Yet, not quite right. Something tugged at him. Not something physical, but a force somewhere…he couldn’t tell where it was. But it felt real, made him feel as if he couldn’t stay here… The darkness faded to gray. Floating became falling. He blinked his eyes. His body was becoming real again, trapping him inside its confines of flesh and bone. The twinkling lights faded. He saw a face. Beautiful dark eyes hovered over his and he could hear a man saying his name. “John?” Something pressed on his cheek. John blinked. “John.” Toshi. John blinked again. He understood without thought what—or rather, who—had made him come

back.

The pressure brushed across his cheek. Toshi’s fingertips.

“I’m all right, Toshi.”

Another energy shifted nearby. Male energy, simmering and powerful. Another face peered down

at him. Kiku.

Bit by bit, John’s memory seeped in. Images, feelings, the things that had happened moments

before he slipped out of his body. Or, whatever the experience he’d just had was…

He’d been sitting at the table, holding a teacup. Those two beautiful men kneeling a few feet away

had been making love. The energy they’d generated had mixed with swirls of sexual energy already

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in the room. Not just sexual energy. Focused sexual energy, generated with the intent to raise it to higher levels… He blinked again as his consciousness returned to this room. To Toshi kneeling above him…above him? He’d been sitting up before. Now he felt something firm yet soft under his back. He turned his head. The table was next to him. He looked back up. “Did I faint?” “I don’t believe so, Mr. Holmes.” Kiku’s voice was hushed. “Did you see twinkling lights and feel like you were floating?” “Yes, I did.” The other man nodded. “I’ve seen this happen on rare occasion. You had kensho, a glimpse of the true nature of creation. How was that for you?” John took a deep breath. His body tingled a bit, reminding him of the weightless, bodiless state he’d experienced. “Beautiful. Like heaven…or…something like that.” A hand passed across his brow. Toshi. John felt a stab of guilt. In kensho, as Kiku had called it, John hadn’t given a thought to anyone, not even Toshi…not until he’d begun to fall back. “I’m sorry you were worried,” he said to Toshi. Toshi didn’t speak but his hand continued to pass over John’s brow. “You must have done some spiritual work previous to this experience, Mr. Holmes.” Kiku said. Toshi’s hand stopped moving on John’s forehead and picked up one of John’s hands, holding it gently. John sighed. “Not that I know of.” “You are very sensitive then. The chi generated by Naoto and Koji together affected you. I bow to you, Mr. Holmes. I have never seen it happen indirectly, like this. You show the makings of a White Tiger, a true practitioner of this path.” John stared up at him. It was on the tip of his tongue to say he’d always thought of himself more as a pussycat than a tiger. Somehow, he wasn’t sure the humor would go over. Kiku seemed quite sincere. John reserved judgment, however. Since meeting Kiku, the man’s yakuza-like pattern of tattoos and the fact that he was missing part of a pinkie finger said there was much more to the priest than simply the Temple of the White Tiger. John had seen enough films about the Japanese mafia to know that Kiku had major associations with organized crime going on. Which meant possibly very bad things for Yuzo. “How are you feeling, John?” Toshi sounded worried as hell. He took a deep breath. No weakness plagued him like after channeling visions. In fact, he felt stronger, more peaceful, like when Toshi touched him. “I feel great, actually.” He bent his knees 76

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and pushed himself up. Toshi of course, was there, hands on John’s back, helping him up.

The movement brought John sitting face-to-face with his lover.

“Perhaps you two need some time.”

John watched Toshi nod to their host. “Yes, please.”

Kiku bowed. “Of course. If you need us, please, just ring the bell.” He indicated a small brass bell

on the tabletop.

John watched the three other men bow and retreat. The second they were gone, Toshi’s hands went to John’s shoulders. “John, is that what happened to you, really?” John nodded. The more he looked at Toshi, the guiltier he felt. He sure as hell hadn’t counted on this experience. “Yeah, it really happened.” He sighed. “I don’t know, there was so much energy, I guess you call it chi. I felt it from the moment we walked into this room and it just kept getting stronger. Before I knew it, I was in that place.” Toshi sighed. He kept his hands on John’s shoulders. Fear emanated through his touch. A second later and he understood. Toshi was afraid of losing him…to these practices. *** “Toshi, what’s wrong?” John’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked into blue eyes. The affection he had been getting used to seeing hadn’t left them. Toshi worked his lips into a smile he didn’t feel. “Nothing, really. I had a strange fear, is all.” “What fear? Tell me.” Toshi bowed his head. “It’s silly. I just felt afraid I would lose you. I mean, if you’re a White Tiger, like he said.” He chuckled without humor. “I feel like a jerk.” A hand suddenly cupped his cheek. “Shut up, okay? You’re not a jerk, and, well, since it’s confession time, I get afraid around you, also. You saw that the other night. I guess it’s natural. We found something sweet and now we don’t want to lose it, right?” John’s thumb brushed back and forth on Toshi’s skin. The sensation was tender and incredibly pleasurable. More than that, it eased away Toshi’s fears. For the moment. “Right.” He smiled and the feeling of it reached inside him. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to John’s. If there was a sweeter man in the universe than John, Toshi couldn’t imagine where he could be. 77

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He ended the kiss and sat up. “Now, to continue, I suppose.” John smiled and humor twinkled in his eyes. “When in Tokyo.” Now Toshi’s heart pounded. He had known when they hatched their plan that in order to keep up the façade, they would have to participate. Even though the prospect made his stomach jittery, he couldn’t deny the eroticism of it either. He reached for the small bell on the table. “What do you think?” John nodded. “Go for it.” He rang the bell and set it back down. Within moments, the soji screen slid aside and Kiku came in, followed by Naoto and Koji. Their host bowed. “How are you both?” Toshi returned the gesture and saw John do the same. “We’re fine, thank you, and ready to learn the practices.” Kiku smiled and bowed again. “Of course. Whatever you wish.” He indicated the futon and cushions where Naoto and Koji had made love moments before. “I think you’ll be comfortable here.” Heart pounding mercilessly now, Toshi rose to his feet. John followed close behind him over to the futon and stood where Kiku indicated. “Now, gentlemen, kneel down, facing each other, a few inches apart.” Toshi gazed into John’s eyes, as if he could take some of the kensho John had experienced and make it his. John’s lips quirked into a smile. He seemed less inhibited than Toshi felt and Toshi envied his lover’s relaxation. He’d always considered himself somewhat prudish and even during his relationship with Michael, had only ever wanted to make love when he was absolutely positive there was no one else around. John winked at him and the tiny gesture dissolved a bit of his nervousness. During Naoto and Koji’s demonstration, Toshi’s arousal had almost overcome his inhibitions. Now, after what had happened with John, his anxiety about being watched returned full force. “Very good.” Kiku’s voice was surprisingly gentle. “Just a word to Mr. Holmes about kensho. As you will see, Mr. Holmes,” Kiku went on, “kensho is not a permanent state, nor is it something you can go looking for. You experienced it as a result of being in the present. You may experience kensho many, many times before it is sustained. Don’t be alarmed, however. Life is comprised of this process of finding one’s true nature.” He bowed. “Thank you.” John returned the bow. When he straightened, Toshi met his lover’s blue gaze. Nothing was as beautiful to Toshi as looking into John’s eyes.

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Kiku gestured to them. “Now, the path of the White Tiger.” The words “white tiger” sent a strange thrill up Toshi’s spine. In mere moments, that phrase had come to mean more than he’d ever thought it would. “To begin with,” Kiku continued, “there is not always a formula for this practice, but starting in this position is helpful for beginners because it is one that people are usually unaccustomed to. Something new that is out of your usual routine will help you to approach each other with a new mind.” Toshi looked at John. Just having John so close, his lips a mere few inches from Toshi’s, his breath warm, sent tingles of heat through Toshi’s body. He held himself back from yanking open John’s robe and pulling it off him so he’d be naked. Shocked at his own raw desire in the presence of other people, Toshi felt his cheeks warm. Kiku knelt down beside them and closed his eyes. He took several deep breaths until his demeanor exuded stillness. Finally, he opened his eyes and looked at Toshi and John. His gaze came to rest on Toshi. A shiver ran down Toshi’s spine. He felt as if Kiku could look right through him, not unlike the way John did. Only with John it didn’t make him uneasy. “Genjin-san, may I tell you what I see?” “Of course.” “I sense that you are critical of your abilities with your lover. You exude a raw, vibrant energy that you believe must be harnessed in some way. Is that correct?” Another shiver course down Toshi’s spine. Was the priest a mind reader or something? Toshi’s impulse was to say, ”None of your business,” but he stifled the response in favor of not blowing his and John’s cover. “Yes, that’s correct.” Kiku bowed his head briefly. “Let me assure you that this practice is not intended to change you or to enhance any beliefs you have about shortcomings. The path is meant only to enhance your senses so that you may experience your sensuality to the fullest. I hope that is clear.” Toshi nodded. “Yes, it’s clear, thank you.” Kiku looked at John. “Mr. Holmes, I sense that you are not at all unhappy with your partner’s technique and that you wish he understood this.” Toshi saw a moment’s astonishment pass through John’s blue eyes. “Yes,” John said, “you sensed correctly.” Kiku bowed his head again. “In that case, I feel the best way to proceed is for Genjin-san to understand what it means to refine his senses and not to change them in any way.” He held out his 79

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hand and nodded to Naoto who returned with a sash. “With your permission, Genjin-san.” Toshi’s heart thumped. He pulled in a breath. “Of course.” Naoto stood behind Toshi and put the sash in front of Toshi’s eyes, tying the ends behind his head, blindfolding him. “Limiting one sense brings the others into focus,” Kiku said. “This is just an exercise to increase awareness. Now, Genjin-san, reach out and remove your partner’s robe, keeping your attention focused on every detail.” Toshi’s heartbeat increased as he reached out. His fingertips landed on the soft material of John’s robe, John’s powerful chest muscles just underneath. “Feel the texture of the robe, the heat of your lover’s body underneath. Hear the sound of his breathing as you remove his clothing, knowing that when you do, he’ll be naked in front of you, ready for your touch.” Toshi’s hands trembled a bit as he sought the tie of John’s kimono. Not having his sight made him vividly aware of the slide of material against his fingertips. His fingertips brushed John’s skin where the sides of his kimono had gaped open, revealing a hint of John’s broad chest. John’s breathing deepened, seemingly from the pleasure of Toshi’s caress. Toshi found the tie of John’s robe and pulled it. His now-sensitive hearing picked up the whoosh as the material fell open and his sense of smell filled with John’s clean musky aroma. John’s breath rasped more heavily and without his sight, Toshi found he could even sense the rise and fall of John’s chest. He reached out and placed his hands, palms down on John’s chest. The bulge of pectoral muscles filled his hands. A surge of raw need spiked through him. He almost lunged forward, sought John’s mouth for a wild kiss, but held himself back, forced himself only to caress John’s chest, rake his fingertips raked through John’s silky chest hair. He heard John sigh, felt John’s body yield in his usual surrender. Toshi paused, took a deep breath. His cock was tight, fully erect, wanting to be buried deep inside John. Toshi dragged his attention to his hands, to the downy hairs sliding against his touch, the muscles of John’s chest against his palms. Toshi felt Kiku’s gaze on them both. However, with his consciousness full of his lover’s scent and feel, he found his inhibitions had melted away. Encouraged, Toshi slid his hands up John’s shoulders and pushed the robe away. He heard the soft material slide down John’s arms, slip to the futon in a whisper of sound. “Very good,” Kiku’s voice had fallen to a low silky tone, strangely unobtrusive. “Now, kiss your partner as you saw Naoto kiss Koji earlier and remain mindful of his scent and taste. You’re doing fine. Just continue to follow your heart.” 80

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The instruction to kiss John sent a pleasant shiver of energy through Toshi’s body. Without hesitation, he moved closer to his lover, rested his hands on John’s shoulders. Leaning into him, Toshi pressed his lips first to John’s cheek. A small breath escaped John at the contact and Toshi felt John’s body grow even more pliant in his hands. Closing his eyes, Toshi breathed in the scent of John’s skin then brushed his lips tenderly across John’s smoothly-shaven skin. The citrus scent of John’s aftershave filled Toshi’s senses, made him feel a bit drunk. John smelled like heaven. And the way he sighed with each pass of Toshi’s lips across his skin made Toshi melt inside. The urge to lay John back and ravage him was strong. It pulled in Toshi’s groin and made his hands tense on John’s arms. Toshi rested his lips on John’s cheek and took a moment to collect himself. Only then did he kiss John’s cheek then nuzzle his way to John’s mouth. John sighed again and he parted his lips. Toshi felt the silent invitation to deepen the kiss. He bit back a groan. Desire sizzled along his nerve endings, made his cock tight, almost painful. It was nearly impossible not to invade John’s mouth, suckle his tongue wildly and push John onto his back on the futon. He held back, closed his lips over John’s, allowed his heightened senses to take in the utter softness of John’s lips and warm pulse of John’s breath, which was growing heavier, more ragged. “Don’t fight with yourself, Genjin-san.” Kiku’s voice was low and smooth, surprisingly unobtrusive. “As you taste your lover’s lips and feel his essence blend with yours, you’ll know exactly what to do. It will flow from you.” Toshi brushed his lips over John’s, back and forth several times, their lips sliding together. Toshi felt the change in John, the further deepening of John’s breath, the melting of his body against Toshi’s. Toshi embraced John, his palms on John’s back. With his lips still on John’s, Toshi shifted his attention to the feel of John’s back under his hands. John’s skin was smooth and warm and his muscles relaxed. Toshi felt John’s surrender, caught his breath as John sank against him, his chest pressed firmly against Toshi’s. Toshi brushed a kiss into the curve of John’s neck. Parting his lips, he feathered the tip of his tongue over John’s skin, appreciated its salty sweet flavor. Just then, Toshi felt John tug on the sash of his kimono. The robe fell open and Toshi leaned back enough to let his robe slip off, then embraced John again. John’s chest hair brushed his nipples and another wave of potent desire came over Toshi. He pulled John closer, felt John’s arms close around him. John pressed his hands into Toshi’s back. John’s cock, fully erect, slid against his. The light friction sent icy hot sparks the length of Toshi’s cock and Toshi caught himself just before he pushed John down and took him right then. Instead, Toshi braced himself, firmly pulled his attention back to the feel of John’s torso against 81

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his, the warmth of their skin where it met, the mingled scent emitted by their combine body heat. Toshi nuzzled John’s cheek again, then kissed him. He slipped his tongue between John’s lips, a slow invasion that let him appreciate the flavor of John’s mouth, the moist warmth of his tongue, the smoothness of his teeth. Kiku had remained silent, yet, in the back of Toshi’s awareness, Toshi sensed him, Naoto and Koji watching him make love to John. The thought roused him more, sent heated blood simmering through his veins. Let them watch. The sense of eyes on Toshi only fueled him on. John tilted his head back. The movement of surrender made Toshi wilder. He dipped his tongue deeper into John’s mouth. Toshi’s body tensed. His fingers tightened on John’s arms. Slow, he thought. He pulled in a deep breath, never lifting his mouth from their kiss. “Surrender your inner battle.” Kiku’s voice drifted into Toshi’s mind. A soothing vibration passed through Toshi and tension drained a bit from his limbs, as if Kiku’s words had given him permission to relax. Toshi’s hands softened on John’s arms. His fingertips registered the warmth of John’s skin and the hardness of his muscles. John’s scent curled inside him and Toshi savored John’s mouth with his own. Not only the physical softness of his lips, but the yielding quality of his kiss, a feeling that conveyed to Toshi, I’ve searched and suffered so much. You’re the one I want now. John’s tongue slid against his. Toshi groaned and his eyelids fluttered. Truthfully, with the exception of John’s cock, nothing had ever tasted more delicious to Toshi in his life as this kiss did right this moment. He pulled John closer, so close their groins pressed together. Heat flamed in his body, a heated spark each time his cock brushed against John’s. The thought of tasting the rest of John’s body the way he was tasting John’s mouth was the only thing that enabled him to pull his lips away from the long feast of a kiss to taste the firm line of John’s jaw, down the side of his throat where the skin was noticeably more supple, the tiny muscles in his lover’s throat working with his ragged breathing. John leaned slightly away, giving Toshi better access to his body. Toshi let his lips and tongue guide his path across John’s collarbone to his chest. The smooth skin gave way to the silky hair of John’s chest, the musky scent of his flesh trapped in the golden hairs that brushed against Toshi’s lips. Toshi found himself in another world, a world where all that existed was his lover’s body, the feel and taste of it, the vibration each time John moaned. Slowly, deliberately, Toshi kissed his way across John’s chest to one nipple and licked back and forth across it. John groaned and slipped his hands into Toshi’s hair. Trying to ignore the waves of need coursing through his own body, Toshi feasted on John’s nipple as if there weren’t anywhere else in the world to go. He feathered his tongue around the tight peak, appreciating the tangy flavor of it. Languorously Toshi circled it, fueled by the way John panted with each round of Toshi’s tongue. Only when Toshi felt the time was right did he move away and 82

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drag kisses across John’s chest to the other nipple, which he feasted on for a long time. John’s body arched into Toshi’s hands, sagged more each second from the pleasure Toshi was giving him. Toshi lifted his mouth from John’s chest and lay John back against the cushions on the mat, shifting his own body until he knelt between John’s spread legs. Toshi half-expected to hear Kiku guide him again now that they were in a different position, but their guide remained silent so Toshi took that as a sign that he was going in the right direction. Toshi resisted the urge to stroke John’s cock and leaned over him, pressed a kiss on John’s stomach. Parting his lips, Toshi brushed the tip of his tongue over the tight skin. John moaned and panted. The encouragement made Toshi feel wild again. He paused, took a deep breath, his lips still pressed on John’s skin. Then, Toshi slowly dragged his tongue down the center furrow of John’s stomach muscles, followed the delicious trail of hair that led to John’s belly button. Toshi dipped his tongue into the delicious indentation of John’s navel, closed his lips over it, tasted and caressed it with his tongue as he’d done with John’s nipples. His lover’s fingers tightened in his hair with each swipe of his tongue. Only when Toshi was mad with the need to taste John’s cock, completely unable to resist further, did he lift his mouth from John’s belly button and lower himself down, hands on John’s hips. John’s erection bumped Toshi’s lips and on reflex, Toshi swirled his tongue over the plump head. “Toshi…” John’s voice was husky, ragged. Toshi palmed the shaft of John’s cock and pressed the tip of his tongue against the head. A tiny drop of pre-come had formed and he slowly, carefully licked it up, letting the clean salty flavor of it roll on his tongue. The small taste fueled Toshi’s hunger and he fought to keep his attention on the taste of John’s silky skin and the feel of the hard shaft in his hand. He suckled on the head of John’s cock, appreciated the smooth skin, the nuances of flavor and texture of the different parts. Pulling his mouth away he ran the flat of his tongue several times up and down the rigid length. John moaned, a soft vibration of sound each time Toshi licked him. John thrust his hips upward and Toshi ran his tongue down John’s cock again, this time all the way to John’s balls, which he also savored and suckled for what felt like a long time. Only then did Toshi become more aware of the urgent desire streaming through his own body. The pressure in his balls made him feel like he would explode and he hungered to feel John’s mouth on him. Wait. This was supposed to be him pleasuring John. Toshi pulled back, let John’s cock slip from his mouth. With his hands resting on Jon’s hips, Toshi panted. The battle tensed his body again. 83

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“Toshi?” Suddenly John was kneeling in front of him, hands on Toshi’s shoulders. “I…I’m doing it again.” Toshi cleared his throat. His body throbbed with arousal. His cock strained

almost painfully and he felt as if the air to his mind were choked off. Thinking, speaking were both

difficult. “I get so wild. I want to attack him.”

To his surprise, Kiku chuckled. Not a derisive sound but one that conveyed understanding. “And

why wouldn’t you? This is not something to be so concerned about. Criticism will only intensify

your battle. I’m certain your partner is flattered by your enthusiasm.”

“The man understands, Toshi.”

“If I may be so bold, Genjin-san,” Kiku went on, “You are the one who seems troubled by your

ardor, not your partner.”

A hand ruffled through his hair. . “I’ve told you that, too.”

“Naoto and Koji have been practicing together for a long time. You demand much of yourself,

Genjin-san. I’m afraid such relentless demand on oneself is a symptom of our society.”

Toshi bowed his head. John’s fingers pushed deeper into his hair and Toshi felt comforted by the

touch against his scalp. What Kiku said was true, and hadn’t it been what he’d rebelled against? At

least in his personal life? So much of what Musashi had encouraged him to do was not to demand

unrealistic perfection from himself. He turned toward Kiku even though he couldn’t see him.

“You’re correct.” His cheeks burned, not from arousal, but from such exposure of his inner life.

He’d never discussed such things with anyone but Musashi and a little bit with John.

Kiku was not only a stranger, but also a possible yakuza, under police surveillance, suspected in

another man’s disappearance.

“Are you ready to continue?” Kiku’s voice was patient even as it pulled Toshi from his thoughts.

A ripple of energy cascaded down Toshi’s front. John’s hand slipped from his hair and landed on

his shoulder. Since John had come into his life, he’d actually experienced some inner peace and

happiness. He wanted to learn how to bring John to that heaven he’d experienced moments ago…If

such a thing were possible. He nodded. “I’m ready.”

He reached out and cupped John’s shoulders. The warmth of John’s skin invaded his palms and

immediately John’s body softened under his hands.

“Do whatever feels natural to you,” Kiku said. “Don’t worry about trying to be a certain way.”

Toshi leaned down and pressed his lips to John’s. With his eyes closed, he once again savored the

velvety feel of his lover’s mouth. Truthfully, even as he kissed John and felt the fire of arousal

streak through his limbs and chest, he didn’t know what to do. He had to admit to himself that if he

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wasn’t taking control, he felt lost. He breathed into John’s mouth. John’s hands slid to his hips as John tilted his head, silently inviting Toshi deeper into their kiss. Toshi let John’s movement lead him. More tension drained from his body, replaced by a languid tingle, like liquid heat flowing slowly through him. John’s body leaned into him, a gentle pressure that made Toshi sink down onto his heels. John’s hands slid up Toshi’s back and Toshi felt himself being eased under his lover’s body. His lips parted and he let John’s kiss invade him. An impulse made Toshi stiffen, but when John sank down on top of him, Toshi exhaled, and remained on his back. John was so kind. Toshi felt now what he’d sensed about John from their first handshake in the airport. Someone he could trust. John’s hand passed over Toshi’s brow. The tender movement made his body relax more, and he parted his lips widely for the heated swirl of John’s tongue. His mind relaxed, thoughts subsided. His bare skin fused to John’s. The rub of their cocks together made a tingling heat concentrate in his lower body. As one moment blended into the next, Toshi lost the distinction of where his body ended and John’s began. John pulled his mouth from Toshi’s and dappled a trail of kisses down Toshi’s chest and stomach, moving farther down his body, each inch bringing another warm press of lips on Toshi’s skin. John’s mouth was so close… Ahhhh. John slid his tongue up Toshi’s cock, base to head. Toshi groaned and arched his hips. John was incredible… John licked him again. Teased the sensitive head with the tip of his tongue. Suddenly John shifted and straddled him, the way Koji and Naoto had done earlier. No, Toshi thought in his fevered mind, I’m supposed to pleasure you…the moist hot suction of John’s mouth whipped Toshi’s thought away as his lover swallowed him to the root in one smooth glide. Toshi grasped John’s hips. John’s whole delicious package hung just above his mouth. Toshi urged John to crouch lower with the press of his hands and captured John’s erection in his mouth. Toshi groaned around John’s cock, held himself back from pumping his hips. He forced his attention back onto John’s cock, slowly licked and suckled it, ran his tongue around the ridges that separated the head from the rest of the shaft. After several moments, Toshi felt a shift of energy, similar to the one he’d experienced before. He and John fell into an easy rhythm. Toshi’s attention became absorbed once again in pleasuring John and the sensations John was giving him with his mouth became part of the entire experience. Although he couldn’t see, his hands instinctively knew where to caress John, where to lick him.

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John caressed Toshi’s shaft with his lips and tongue. Through the haze of Toshi’s mind, he could distinguish the tiny flickers of John’s tongue on the sensitive skin and the caress of John’s fingertips on his ass. John was so naturally gentle the way he massaged Toshi’s cock with his mouth. Damn, that felt so amazing. Before Toshi knew what was happening, his climax exploded. He couldn’t hold back the waves, thrust his hips in short bursts as he emptied himself into John’s mouth. John didn’t seem to mind. He engulfed Toshi’s cock in his mouth and Toshi could feel his lover’s throat working, swallowing every drop of come. John kept Toshi’s cock in his mouth as the orgasm subsided. Tiny spasms of pleasure still vibrated through Toshi and he tightened his lips on John’s erection, suckling him in long strokes up and down the entire length. Toshi concentrated on what he was doing. He felt the vibration of John’s moans around his cock, let the sounds guide him. He moved his mouth up and down a bit faster, rewarded with an answering twitch in John’s cock. John groaned and erupted. Toshi swallowed the salty-sweet come as it filled his taste buds. He felt his cock slip from John’s mouth and Toshi rolled to the side so he wouldn’t crush his lover. A gentle hand pushed back the blindfold. “I want us to see each other,” John breathed. He was lying limp against the cushions, his expression one of complete bliss. His blue eyes were half closed, gazing at Toshi, his lips swollen and gleaming, as his breathing gradually slowed. Toshi lowered himself besides John, one arm over him, and lay gazing down at him. Slowly, as his eyes adjusted to the light, he became aware once again of the three men watching them. Half embarrassed, half eager to know how he’d done, he raised his gaze to where Kiku knelt, Naoto and Koji close behind him. The expression on Kiku’s face sent a shiver up Toshi’s spine. Kiku’s eyes were wide, his lips parted. In the next moment, Kiku bowed low, hands on the tatami, his forehead nearly touching the floor. When he rose up, his dark eyes burned with what now appeared a mix of envy and admiration. “I bow to you both,” Kiku’s voice was full of the emotions that glowed in his eyes. “If you have never practiced this path before tonight then I am truly, truly amazed. You emanate the kind of bliss I’ve only ever seen in couples that have been practicing together a long time.” He bowed again. “Thank you.” Toshi sat up and John followed until they knelt facing Kiku and his disciples. He bowed. “I don’t know what to say except thank you.” A smile spread across Kiku’s smooth golden face. “That will suffice. Your lovemaking conveys your gratitude to each other for the pleasure that passes between you. I’m the one who is honored by your presence.”

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Toshi bowed. “Thank you again.” Beside him, John also bowed. “Now I invite you to enjoy the rest of the facilities here as you wish. There are the baths. We offer massage and sauna.” Toshi bowed again. “Thank you.” He wanted simply to lie in bed holding John in his arms, but that would have to wait. He needed to contact Natsuka and tell him what he’d found so far and find out what his partner had learned, if anything. They certainly couldn’t meet here and Toshi didn’t even want to text Natsuka on his cell phone in case someone could break into the network. Naoto approached him and John and knelt down. He held out their discarded kimonos and bowed his head as Toshi retrieved them from him. “I’d like to go to the room first.” “Very good,” Kiku said. “Naoto, accompany our guests to their room and see to their needs.” Naoto bowed. “Yes, Sensei.” Toshi repressed an impulse to refuse the offer. He couldn’t do anything to rouse Kiku’s suspicions. *** So, his new guests were not what they appeared. Kiku forced his polite smile to remain in place. Only moments after the two men had come into the room, images had assaulted his mind. Genjin in a police uniform, in a koban box on the street. Genjin running, gun outstretched. He hadn’t been able to distinguish exactly what the gaijin was. Unlike Genjin, the gaijin wasn’t a cop. Images of him had shown a man in a military uniform of some sort, riding in a jeep, getting thrown onto the sand while his companion burned. Hideous. Kiku rose to his feet as he watched his two guests leave the room. His gut clenched, relaxing only when the soji screen closed. “Kiku sensei, are you all right?” He nodded though his heart thrashed in his chest. Were they looking for Yuzo? If not, it was quite a coincidence they should show up only a couple of days after Yuzo’s uncle had inquired about him. At the time he knew the elderly man didn’t believe his story… “When our new guests leave their room, bug it.” Koji bowed. “Of course.” “Good.” Kiku knelt back down and took a sip of his tea. The liquid had cooled but he didn’t care. He needed a moment to collect his nerves. As experienced a man as he was, he hadn’t expected what had happened with the gaijin. The mere qi generated by Koji and Naoto’s lovemaking had been enough to give the man kensho. John Holmes was obviously a person of exquisite sensitivity. Someone who quite possibly possessed the same abilities he had found himself all those years ago in the Temple of the White 87

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Tiger in Shanghai, when his own search for something more had led him into Quan Chan’s arms.

If this was so, however, than he needed to be extra careful with the cop and his lover.

Kiku turned to Koji who knelt patiently close to his side. “I’m going now. I’ll be back in a few

hours.”

Koji’s eyes clouded. His unspoken words hung in the air. Then he bowed low. “Of course, Sensei.”

Kiku sighed. His heart felt as if a fist squeezed it. “I wish I were worthy of that title.” He rose to his

feet and started for the door.”

“You saved my life, Sensei.”

Koji’s voice stopped Kiku in his tracks and he looked over his shoulder.

Koji bowed again and raised his gaze. “Naoto’s too. And his.”

Kiku bowed again. Such loyalty and devotion should never go unappreciated, deserved or not.

“Thank you, Koji. I’ll be back later tonight.”

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CHAPTER NINE

“When did you call the police, damn it? Tell me the truth!” Yuzo glared at his captor. He held up his bound wrists. “How the hell could I have called the police? Locked in this room?” The face looking at him softened, but not completely. “You are a foolish child.” Yuzo squared his shoulders. “Twenty-two is not a child. You of all people know I’m not a child.” His captor sighed. “With a mouth like yours, you’ve learned nothing. It’s natural to assume that you would have called the police. You have a passion for playing with fire.” Yuzo exhaled. Sudden tiredness weighed down his limbs. He looked down, avoided the other man’s gaze. “My uncle probably thinks I’m dead.” He shot upward. “This could kill him. He’s old. How dare you!” “Will you make the promise I’ve asked of you?” Yuzo gasped. He could not allow mutilation, not for anything. He stared at his captor, tried to enact an expression that would wear the other man down. A long time seemed to pass and the calm but determined gaze that looked back at him conveyed an inner strength Yuzo had yet to achieve. Well, he would work on building it now. When he needed it most. He narrowed his eyes. “Never.” His captor sighed. “All right, then. You stay just like you are now. We’ll try again tomorrow.” With that, he turned and left, locking the door behind him. *** Holy shit. Toshi turned to John. “Natsuka found a kid last night who knows the guy from your visions. The one with the mole.” John’s eyes widened. “Damn, it always creeps me out that I see these things. Is he a yakuza? He didn’t have the tattoos from what I could see.” Toshi glanced around the sushi bar they sat in to make sure no one was listening. “I don’t know. He could just be some guy who picked Yuzo up and frightened him by being too kinky or too violent. Hopefully we’ll find out. Now, if we can confirm the other man’s identity…” He looked at Natsuka. “Did you bring the photos?”

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The older man nodded. “I almost forgot.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope. “Hayao brought these photos from the station. He’s trailing Fujimara as we speak.” Toshi felt a flush of deep gratitude toward his friend. “Thank you.” Natsuka was straighter than a steel rod and it couldn’t have been easy for him to go into a hattenba. Natsuka pulled the photos out and held them out to John over their plates of sushi. “Toshi-san, please ask him if that’s one of the men he saw in his visions.” “John, these photos are from our archives. Do you recognize this man?” At first John only looked at them, but then Toshi saw John start, as if an electric current had passed through him. John set the photos down. His eyes widened again. “Hell yes, that’s definitely the other man I saw.” Toshi’s heart lurched. “Are you all right, John?” John nodded. His face was a bit flushed, but otherwise, his eyes were calm, unclouded and his breathing hadn’t deepened the way it usually did. “I’m fine. That guy is…um…how do you put it, he’s got some issues with anger.” Toshi exchanged a look with Natsuka and translated for his partner what John had said. He turned back to John. “You’ve just identified Taro Suzuki, son of the oyabun of one of Tokyo’s largest yakuza families.” John whistled. “Holy crap. Yuzo was involved with this guy? Bad company.” Toshi nodded. “I’d say.” He turned to Natsuka and translated. Natsuka gave a brief bob of his head. “Hai. Now to find the guy with the mole and see what the connection is between them.” He picked up the photos, putting them back into the envelope. “You know, Toshi-san, it would appear that what Kitano’s uncle said is true. Kitano ran to Fujimara. After all, he was surrounded by dangerous people. Perhaps this White Tiger place was a safer choice.” Toshi sighed. “Yes, I’m having the same suspicion. However, seeing as Fujimara was a yak, I’m not certain how truly safe Yuzo was there. In any case, if he was happy at the Temple, it’s unlikely he would have just up and left with no substantial explanation. However, if Fujimara turned out to be just as dangerous, it is possible that he did leave.” He translated his conversation for John. “I agree,” John said. “As far as Suzuki goes, he’s got an office right here in this neighborhood,” Toshi went on. “We don’t know details about his activities except for that quite a few places around here pay him protection.”

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John sat up. “Do you think it’s possible he’s got Yuzo?” Toshi sighed and kept his gaze on the remaining piece of sushi on his plate. “I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense. Let’s say that Kiku and Yuzo were having a love affair as Yuzo’s uncle seems to believe. Yuzo runs off as Kiku claimed to Yuzo’s uncle and then doesn’t seem ruffled at all? Of course, it could be an act. He could be putting on a face for his guests.” He raked a hand through his hair. “If you ran off like that, John, I’d be off after you, searching until I found you, not running

a hotel.”

Silence.

Toshi looked up.

John was staring at him. “Toshi, thank you.”

Only then did Toshi realize what he’d just said. His cheeks burned and he glanced at Natsuka to see

if his partner had caught the moment passing between John and himself. Natsuka had on his poker

face, as usual. Toshi looked back at John. “You’re welcome.”

He then translated what he’d said for Natsuka, leaving out of course, the part about searching for

John if John disappeared.

Natsuka nodded. “Hai. I’ve wondered the same thing. At this point, I’m leaning more toward the

possibility that it’s Fujimara himself who’s taken the guy.”

Before Toshi could translate, Natsuka’s cell phone rang. Toshi watched him retrieve the phone

from his jacket and click it open. “Yamamoto.” He listened quietly. “Hai. Genjin Keibu is right

here. I’ll have you tell him directly.” He held out the phone to Toshi. “It’s Hayao.”

Toshi put the phone to his ear. “What’s going on?”

“Genjin Keibu, the subject drove to Yokohama, Chinatown. He went into a building on Lily

Avenue thirty minutes ago, and has been there since.”

Toshi’s gut clenched. “Is that the address of subject’s mother?”

“Hai. So far though, nothing else has happened. Nor has anyone else entered the building since.”

“All right. Keep us posted.”

“Should I continue to call Yamamoto Keibu’s phone?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Toshi hung up and reported what Hayao had said. He handed the phone back to

Natsuka. The waiter returned to the table and asked if they wanted anything else. They were all

finished. It was time to get back to the White Tiger.”

When the waiter set down the bill, Toshi picked it up. “This is on me.”

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“Thank you, Toshi-san.” Natsuka rose from his chair. “I’m going to check one more hattenba tonight before going home. I did some research and there’s one in particular with an active strap wielding kind of crowd.” Toshi felt a stab of guilt. “Are you sure about this?” Natsuka nodded. “No problem. How about I meet you here tomorrow, say around one? I’ll give a

report.”

“That’s perfect.”

Natsuka bowed. His eyes appeared troubled but Toshi knew better than to ask him what was

wrong, especially in front of John. Natsuka was the most private person Toshi knew.

Toshi watched his friend depart. Something about watching Natsuka walk away made Toshi feel

suddenly heavy-hearted. He wondered what his partner thought of John. Not that Natsuka would

ever tell him. And not that Toshi would ask. Certain topics were the kind considered strictly

private, even between good friends. He sighed and looked down.

“If you want to know what Natsuka thinks about me, I’ll tell you.”

John’s voice made him whip his gaze up. “What? Did he tell you?” Toshi couldn’t imagine.

John chuckled. “C’mon, Tosh. Do you think I need him to?”

Toshi laughed. His cheeks heated. “Sometimes for a detective I’m not so sharp.”

“Hey, it’s all right. You’re human. Anyway, I just sensed you wondering so I thought I’d let you

know the information was available.”

Toshi sighed again. “I do want to know. Well…as long as it’s not bad.”

“It’s not bad, Toshi. I promise.”

“Then go ahead. It’s not something Natsuka will ever tell me himself.”

John sat up. “Well, when you two first picked me up at the airport, Natsuka was really skeptical

about the whole psychic thing, even more than you were. He thought I was probably a nut.”

Toshi felt his eyes widen. “You’re not kidding?”

John smiled and shook his head. “Cross my heart. But then after we went to that crime scene at the

hotel and I revealed all those facts about the murdered couple, things no one had told me, he couldn’t deny that something was going on. And then, because we wrapped up the case in a few days when you guys had been working for months, he had to admit to himself that what I did was for real and that I’m not a nutcase.” “Well, that’s good. I wouldn’t want him to think he thought you’re a nut.” 92

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John’s mirth faded. “Now, however, that he sees you and I are involved, he doesn’t know what to make of that. He wants to like me, but since he cares so much about you, he wants to be sure I’m good for you, that I won’t hurt you. He’s protective of you.” Toshi stared at John while he digested that last part. He knew Natsuka cared about him. He also knew that Natsuka and his wife had lost an infant son many years ago, but out of respect to Natsuka’s private nature, Toshi didn’t mention this to John. Toshi wouldn’t have known himself, but two years ago on a case involving the death of a child, Natsuka had fallen into a deep depression and his wife had called Toshi to come and talk to him. Only then had Natsuka spoken about what happened. Toshi nodded. Sadness enveloped him over this and he couldn’t quite explain why. “Natsuka is a good friend.” John too, looked troubled now. “Yes, he is.” They sat quietly for another moment and then Toshi set down the money for the check plus a gratuity. “Come on, we should get back.” Halfway out of the restaurant, John froze. Toshi’s blood chilled. “John, what is it?” “I had a weird feeling, like someone was watching us. It’s gone now.” Toshi looked around but didn’t see anyone who looked suspicious. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean anything. A good spy could completely blend into the background, eluding even a seasoned detective. He sighed. “Possibly sent by Kiku to keep an eye on us.” “That’s what I thought too.” Toshi led John out of the restaurant and turned in the direction of the hotel. The evening was mild and pleasant in spite of the ever-present smell of exhaust one found in a city. He liked the simple pleasure of having John walk beside him as they made their way back. “Do you feel like we’re being followed now?” “Not as strongly, but, yeah, that weird sensation is there.” Toshi resisted the urge to slip his hand into John’s as they walked. He’d wished for a long time to have someone to walk hand in hand with. Since Michael there’d been no one. But even in this section of town, he felt funny about it. *** “Are you sure they didn’t see you?” Kiku’s heart was beating hard. Ryu shook his head of spiky, pink-tipped hair. “No, Kiku.”

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Kiku sighed and paced his office, in front of where Ryu sat. Funny how a guy with bright pink spiky hair and a nose ring could remain so inconspicuous. Ryu’s father was a yak in the Suzuki gumi, and Ryu knew their ways even though he had no desire to become one himself. He sought to escape, aspiring to become one of Tokyo’s champion boxers. Kiku’s heart felt like a beaten pulp in his chest. He wished he could have returned Ryu’s devotion with the kind of love Ryu had wanted from him. But Yuzo… To make matters worse, Suzuki was demanding a trade of one of his other men in Yuzo’s place. The yak wanted Ryu and was determined to get him. Suzuki had already violated Ryu once, a long time ago, and Kiku would rather die than turn Ryu over to him. When this was all over, he’d have to send Ryu somewhere safe. Probably out of Japan. Back to the matter at hand. “Was the third man a cop?” A shiver passed down Kiku’s spine. It appeared that Genjin and his lover were here for business and not pleasure. The fact that the gaijin showed the makings of a White Tiger was an unexpected aside. “I can’t say for sure, but he showed the cop and the gaijin photos of Suzuki.” “Where did they go from the sushi bar?” “They’re back here. I followed them the whole way back. No stops.” Ryu looked up at him from where he knelt on the floor. “With all respect, Kiku, perhaps they are looking for Suzuki and could help you? You’ve done nothing wrong that they should arrest you. Especially if you tell them the truth. They could protect Yuzo.” Kiku froze in his place and turned around. “I can never help the police, under any circumstances. Suzuki is a threat to all of you … especially you … and I won’t give him any reason to move against any of you. I could never live with myself. I’ll only let the cop stay here because Suzuki is bleeding me dry. We need the income.” Ryu bowed his head. “If you need income, I will get it for you.” Kiku dropped to his knees in front of the younger man. “Absolutely not.” He didn’t know exactly what Ryu had in mind, but it could be anything from his prize money, to selling his body. Exactly the sort of things Kiku didn’t want for him. “All I need from you you’ve already done for me.” He put his hand, palm down on Ryu’s head. “Please, don’t do anything. Stay here.” Ryu lifted his gaze. His dark eyes were misted and Kiku felt the emotions churning in him. Ryu was the most intense of the young men here. At twenty-seven, he’d already nearly completed his tattoos neck to ankles in spite of the fact that he did not choose the life of a yakuza. “Whatever you wish. But you’re trying too hard to please Yuzo. He doesn’t understand that world even though he moved in it.” Kiku let his hand slip from Ryu’s pink-tipped hair. Ryu was right, of course. Growing up in a yak household had developed Ryu’s sharp skill in observing human nature. He could accuse Ryu of jealousy but it wasn’t jealousy, it was concern. “He doesn’t want to feel responsible for yuzibume.”

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“I understand,” Ryu’s soft eyes were compassionate. “But the price you’re paying now is much higher.” Kiku sighed and resumed his pacing. Of course even for Ryu, who wasn’t particularly tough, finger cutting was not the ordeal it would be for Yuzo. But that wasn’t all. What Ryu didn’t know—none of his men knew—was that he’d witnessed Suzuki shoot a woman six months earlier. The killing had generated a lot of press, and the police had arrived too late on the scene to find any suspects. The shooting had happened just as Kiku was leaving Suzuki's office after making a payment. He had been halfway down the block when he heard the shot. He turned just in time to see Suzuki duck back into his office, gun in hand and to see the woman fall. She was already dead so Kiku hadn’t called the police, only got back to the Temple and kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t sure if Suzuki knew he’d witnessed it. But it didn’t matter. If anyone was going to die from knowledge, he wouldn’t let it be his beloved students. “I will do it, of course. But not while the cops are in my place.” But for how long would that be? He couldn’t know. He didn’t even have proof they were searching for Yuzo. Somehow he’d have to find out and then find a way to get them to leave. *** Things were bad. Toshi had been at this too long not to know they were in the middle of something ugly. He was quiet all the way back to the hotel, the whole time he and John slipped into their robes and went down to the bath. Kiku was nowhere to be seen and Naoto appeared briefly to see if they needed anything and then slipped discreetly away when they said they were fine. John seemed to understand Toshi’s silence and didn’t question him. Even John’s naked body under the spray of the shower couldn’t distract Toshi from his thoughts. He was too busy keeping an eye on the couple who sat at the other end of the large pool-like bath, talking softly. The two men greeted Toshi and John with polite nods and then turned back to their conversation. Toshi sat close to John as they soaked in the hot water. Here, he felt completely comfortable keeping an arm across John’s shoulders and sitting close to him. However, he didn’t dare broach the subject of what impressions John might be getting from the place. That was something for tomorrow when they met with Natsuka. John smiled at him with the same tender look in his eye he often had. “Hey there,” he said. Toshi smiled back. “Hi.” John looked back at him. His lazy smile faded. “Toshi, how are you doing?” He reached out and caressed Toshi’s hair. “I’m all right.” He sat back, pleasantly aware of John’s wet naked body close to his. The lighting in the room cast a glow from the sheen of moisture on John’s skin and on the way the water darkened his chest hair and plastered it down on his muscles. 95

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In spite of their real reason for being in this place, Toshi felt free. He closed his eyes and leaned in closer. For a few minutes, anyway, it was glorious to feel uninhibited, as if he wasn’t doing something terrible wrong. He relaxed more in the crook of John’s arm and let his thoughts wander away from the case for a few delicious minutes. Unfortunately, his mind soon turned to thoughts of Musashi and of the mystery his uncle had left behind. Had his uncle longed to feel this kind of freedom too? What the hell had happened? Toshi felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He looked up, into dusky blue eyes. There was no doubting the look of arousal. Well, maybe they could just let things go for this evening and… “Hey, why don’t we go upstairs?” John’s statement sent a pleasant tingle through Toshi’s whole body. He felt the same way. “Sounds good.” He pulled back and climbed out of the pool. Once in their room again, Toshi slid the soji screen closed, still troubled by that feeling he’d had concerning Musashi. Why that should be foremost in his mind right now under these circumstances, he didn’t know. John pulled the covers back on the futon and slid in. He smiled and patted the cushion. John looked peaceful and satiated. “Hey, Toshi, come in. I miss you already.” Toshi padded over to the bed, slipped off his robe and turned off the lamp. He slid under the covers and settled into John’s embrace, their naked bodies pressed together. John lips were warm, nuzzling Toshi’s neck. Suddenly, he stiffened and raised his head. “Toshi, hey, what’s wrong? I know something’s bothering you.” Toshi sighed. “I was just thinking about my uncle. When you and I were in the bath, I felt so glad to be in a place where that was normal. It made me think about him, about his secrecy.” John levered up onto one elbow. He reached up and raked his fingers through Toshi’s hair. John leaned down and kissed Toshi’s lips, a sweet kiss that melted Toshi’s insides. His hand passed through Toshi’s hair again. “I understand.” He settled back down on the mattress, pulling Toshi against him. Toshi let himself be pulled into that strong warmth. John’s breath caressed his bare skin and he closed his eyes, resting in his lover’s embrace. Finally, after thirty-seven years on this planet, he’d finally found some happiness. He was determined not to let this place take it away from him.

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CHAPTER TEN Tokyo, 1978 “You cannot do this to me, Mazao.” Musashi clutched at his heart, as if he could stem the tide of grief his younger half-brother was causing him. He stared down at the tatami on which he knelt across the table from his brother and sister-in-law, grateful that Toshi was at school and couldn’t hear this conversation. Mazao’s stern gaze remained like a stone. Toshi called that sharp look in his father’s eyes 'the glare'. “I must do what is best for Toshiro.” Musashi cast a look at his sister-in-law, but Otsu Genjin offered no succor. She bowed completely to her husband’s wishes as any proper Japanese wife did. “I’ve been good to Toshi.” He heard the plea in his own voice and hated himself for his weakness. He was the first son, the elder who should be respected, not treated as if he were a pervert. How dare a brother twenty years his junior dictate to him! Mazao’s coldness was like a chill in the room. It was this very lack of warmth that had made Musashi so determined to be a part of his nephew’s life. “Yes, you have been good to him and you can continue to be…but Toshiro is at an age where he’ll begin to question his world. I don’t want any bad examples set.” Musashi’s face burned with shame at the thinly veiled accusation. To make matters worse, Musashi already suspected that his nephew was gay. He’d walked into Toshi’s room one day and found him rewinding a videotape of Seven Samurai so he could watch a nearly naked man more closely. Musashi had stood quietly in the background, unnoticed by Toshi who was so entranced that he hadn’t heard his uncle come in. Toshi had rewound the tape countless times, watching the same scene. Musashi had said nothing to Toshi’s parents but he did blame himself. Even though he’d always kept the truth of his relationship with Tokuma completely secret from Toshi, Toshi was a sensitive boy and possibly knew the truth in his heart already. “I promise, Mazao, that I will continue to keep my secret. Toshi doesn’t need to know. My nephew is the light of my heart.” Mazao looked at him, his dark eyes black as coal and just as hard. “I know that, and you have taught him some valuable things. He possesses great loyalty and a sense of justice because of you. However, you could have married and continued with Tokuma Imoru discreetly, as is proper. You chose to cohabit with him. This is not the right example for Toshiro. He respects you, emulates 97

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you, much more than he does myself or Otsu. If you wish to remain around your nephew as you’ve been, you must take up residence in the garden cottage. Alone.” The way his brother stressed that last word was humiliating. Musashi looked down at his untouched cup. His throat was so tight he couldn't have swallowed the tea. His palms were sweating profusely and he rubbed them surreptitiously on his trousers. The choice his brother was giving him was crueler than death. Tokuma had been his great love for more than thirty years. Tokuma had taken care of him after the war when no one else had been there for him, and Musashi treasured every night they’d fallen asleep together and every morning they’d woken up together. Even if he’d wanted to live as a normal Japanese man, marry and have a career, keeping Toku on the side, he wouldn’t have done it. He’d not have been able to stay away from Toku. Living without Toku would be a torment, even if they were still free to be lovers, but to be cut out of Toshi's life forever was unthinkable. He heaved a deep sigh. His brother had trapped him, used his adoration of his nephew to get his way. Mazao must have known that Musashi could not endure the idea of being cut off from Toshi under any circumstance. Musashi could only pray that Toku would understand. Toku knew how much Musashi loved his nephew. Surely he’d see that this way enabled him and Toku to stay together and for Musashi to have his nephew in his life. Musashi bowed his head. He behaved calmly even though his heart thrashed about in his chest with such force he almost couldn’t breathe. “All right, Mazao,” he managed to choke out. “I will do as you wish and move into the cottage.”

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CHAPTER ELEVEN

Natsuka was familiar with the drill now. At the entrance of The Luck Club, he paid his entry fee and took the two locker keys, one for his shoes, the other for his clothing. This place, unlike the Black Box, had a mixed age clientele, he noticed as he undressed in the locker room. There were some middle-aged men here, some even older than himself. Hell, at least he was in good shape, he mused as he put his clothes into his locker. He changed into the provided robe and pocketed the key, along with his police badge, before putting on thin-soled slippers stamped with the logo of the club. Slinging his towel over his shoulder, he headed to the sauna and bath. The steamy room was much like the one in the Black Box, with a large pool-like tub filled with naked men, some lounging by themselves, checking each other out, others in pairs. As he showered, Natsuka kept an eye on the bathers. So far, no guy with the mole on his cheek. There was the S&M room he’d read about in his research, but he preferred to find the guy on more neutral ground if possible. He found an empty spot in the bath and settled into the hot water. A couple of men chatted with him, but Natsuka saw no sign of the man Mojo had referred to as Joe. “Looking for someone?” Natsuka turned. A chubby guy who’d gotten into the bath a minute earlier now sat pretty close to him. Natsuka’s gut did a small flip. There was no mistaking the interest in the guy’s eyes. He cleared his throat. “Actually, yeah. A friend of mine was going to meet me here.” “Oh.” Disappointment laced the guy’s voice. He looked a few years younger than Natsuka. “I’m sorry,” Natsuka said. “It was pre-arranged.” The man’s face brightened a bit at the explanation. “No problem. Just thought I’d ask.” “He seems to be late. Although, maybe he’s in a different part of this place.” The guy shrugged. “Could be. There are a few other rooms. Maybe he went there first.” “Where could that be? I’m new here.” The guy sat back, arms resting along the sides. His pose gave Natsuka the feeling that the guy was subtly trying to dissuade him from looking for his friend. “There’s a room with a TV and lots of sofas, and then there’s the S&M room. If he’s into that kind of thing, maybe he’s there.”

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Natsuka kept up his façade of calm. “Yeah, you know? I think he is. I’d better go check in case he thinks I stood him up.” He bowed to the guy. “Aurigato.” The man bowed in return. A quick inquiry to someone walking in the hallway directed Natsuka to the S&M room. Even before opening the door he could hear thumps and moans coming from inside. He heaved a deep sigh and pushed the door open. A black light made the dark room glow with an eerie purple haze. The place was just like he imagined an S&M room would be, chains and cuffs everywhere and guys strapped to benches getting whipped or…well…other things. Whap! A particularly loud, nearby slap of leather connecting with flesh grabbed Natsuka’s attention. Staying by the doorway, he turned. The guy wielding the strap had his back to Natsuka, but the man’s compact, muscular body fit John Holmes’s description. His hair was cut short the way Holmes-san had described it. Whap! The guy brought the strap down again. This time, Natsuka's attention followed its path to the ass it was hitting: that of a young man, his hands cuffed together in front of him, his slim body prone over a bench. The kid was panting, harsh breaths that gave Natsuka the impression he might not be enjoying the strap. Natsuka skirted the edge of the room, past the other occupants, his gaze trained only on the man with the strap. He watched him raise it again. Whap! It slapped the young man’s bottom, making him whimper. Finally, he could see the whole scene from the side and froze. There it was. The mole. This had to be Joe. Or whatever his name really was. Adrenaline kicked in and Natsuka inwardly braced himself for confrontation. Whap! The strap came down again. Natsuka’s gaze whipped to the young man’s face. In the dim light, he made out the wet tracks of tears on the youth’s cheek. That was it. Natsuka lunged, tackled him in mid-swing of his strap. Joe grunted, tumbled down under Natsuka’s weight. Joe gave a hard twist, freed one leg and wrapped it around Natsuka’s. The force behind the hold imprisoned Natsuka. A fist slammed into Natsuka’s ribcage. Pain exploded in his side. He grunted. Unlike Mojo, this guy knew what he was doing. Natsuka worked one arm out and elbowed Joe. Hard. Joe let out a whoosh. Natsuka used that split second to roll them over and pin Joe into a submission hold. A quick light chop to the guy’s throat and he wilted. Yeah, he’d known what he was doing, but Natsuka had probably twenty-five years experience on him. 100

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“Police,” Natsuka said into his ear. “I’m arresting you for assault and battery. Joe.”

The activity in the room around them had frozen. Men had stopped whatever they’d been doing and

stood, staring, obviously alarmed that they were in trouble too. People were often that way. Guilty

consciences.

“He consented.” Joe’s voice was tight from obvious pain.

Natsuka let up on his arm, kept his weight on the guy so he couldn’t get up. “It didn’t look so

consensual to me.”

The young man had scrambled off the bench when Natsuka attacked his partner, but now there was

no sign of him.

Joe coughed several times. Natsuka let one of his hands free and he rubbed his bruised throat.

“Well, it was.” Joe looked up at Natsuka. A sheen of sweat covered the guy’s skin. He coughed

again. “And anyway, you’re blowing my cover,” he choked out.

“Cover?”

“Mako Tsugawa, Tokyo Police. My badge is in my locker. If you’ll let me up, I’ll show it to you.”

Oh shit. Toshi would be upset about this. Natsuka bit back a groan. Damn. Maybe it was time to

consider retirement. He’d had no business attacking this guy. “Don’t try anything or I’ll bring you

down again.”

Tsugawa nodded. The look on his face confirmed that he believed Natsuka’s threat. Natsuka had

earned his first dan black belt in judo at the age of ten and it obviously showed.

Slowly, Natsuka let him up.

Tsugawa got to his feet, slowly unfolding his body from the floor. “Damn, you’re good,” he

mumbled, stretching out his arms, testing them, as they were obviously sore. He rubbed his throat

again.

“Are you all right?” Natsuka felt shame burning at the back of his neck.

“I’ll be all right. I’ve had worse.”

Unlike Yuzo, Tsugawa was built solid. He was obviously in his mid-twenties, and Natsuka

couldn’t help a furtive flush of pride that at age fifty he’d taken the guy down so easily.

A glance showed his badge had fallen to the floor in their struggle. He swiped it up and showed it to Tsugawa. “Natsuka Yamamoto, Tokyo Police.” Tsugawa nodded and started out of the room. Natsuka followed him to the locker room. Tsugawa opened his locker and pulled a wallet from his trousers. He flicked it open and showed his own 101

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badge to Natsuka. “Let’s get out of here so we can talk,” he said. Natsuka yanked his shirt out of his locker, only a couple down from Tsugawa’s. As he buttoned his shirt, Natsuka glanced at the other man’s physique again, this time experiencing a flush of anger. This man wasn't small yet he’d been taking the strap to a guy half his size. What the hell was that about? The guy he’d been whipping hadn’t seemed to like it. Natsuka grumbled to himself as he stepped into his trousers. When he was dressed he turned back to Tsugawa. Tsugawa started for the door. “I know somewhere we can go.” *** Tsugawa led Natsuka into one of the bars. The place was small and quiet, large enough for only about twenty patrons. Natsuka followed the other man to an unoccupied corner table. Several people greeted Tsugawa as they passed the occupied tables, which gave Natsuka the impression that the other cop spent a lot of time here. The bartender came right over to them. “Your bottle, Joe.” He set it on the table. Tsugawa thanked him. “Same for my friend here.” The bartender nodded and went back to the bar. When he’d placed Natsuka’s beer on the table and left Natsuka looked at his companion. He decided not to waste any time. Toshi was in the Temple…hotel…whatever the hell it was, probably surrounded by yaks. This was not a time to fuck around. “You knew a young man named Yuzo Kitano.” Tsugawa’s eyes widened. He nodded. “Are you looking for him?” He took a sip of his beer, leaning a bit toward Natsuka as if they’d met and were getting acquainted. Natsuka understood the guise and went along with it. “Yes. He went missing a few months ago from the Temple of the White Tiger. His uncle is afraid he’s been murdered.” Tsugawa sighed and took a long pull on his beer. “I was afraid of that.” He shifted in his seat, leaning so close to Natsuka that Natsuka got a whiff of the beer he’d just swallowed. “I’m in the Organized Crime Control Section. I’ve been working this neighborhood for the past year, trying to crack down on Taro Suzuki, especially after that shooting last winter.” He shook his head and took a swig of beer. “Some poor innocent woman gets shot in the head just going shopping and those bastards slip right through. I’ve never seen the like.” He looked at Natsuka. “What I wouldn’t give sometimes to be Zatoichi and whip my sword out of my cane,” he said, referring to a television show of Natsuka’s youth. “If some blind samurai guy could whip their asses like that…” He shook his head again. 102

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Natsuka took a sip of beer. Working to appear casual he set the bottle down. “You think that Yuzo was involved with Suzuki?” He didn’t need to tell Joe that a psychic had described lurid visions of Suzuki with Yuzo Kitano. Tsugawa nodded. “I know he was. We have surveillance photos of them together. Kitano was a bosozoku, you know, running errands, giving blowjobs, that kind of thing. The son of the Suzuki family favored him. You know, as a piece of ass.” He paused and took another long pull on his bottle. “I’ve been working on bringing in Taro Suzuki for months now and that kid would have really helped. Suzuki kept him for a while. That’s when I tried to get the kid to wear a wire for me, or at least give me some information, he was terrified to talk to me.” Joe held up a hand and wiggled his pinkie. “Probably wouldn’t want to go through losing that if Suzuki found out he’d talked.” Natsuka gave a brief nod. “Of course not. Who would?” Joe shrugged. “That’s when he bailed. He got involved with that religious place and I lost him there. Yaks seem to go for that kid. Fujimara took over where Suzuki left off.” He shrugged. “But I can’t get near either of them.” Natsuka understood. Yaks had a gift for covering their trails. “What do you mean Fujimara took over where Suzuki left off?” Tsugawa looked at him. His look seemed to say that the question was ridiculous. “I’m saying that they were probably involved. In any case, months of work have led to nothing. I’m not any closer than I was before.” Natsuka narrowed his eyes. He leaned in a bit closer. “If you don’t mind my saying, I don’t see how you were going to get those young guys to cooperate with you by using a strap.” Tsugawa stared at him a moment. His cheeks actually colored, but just as quickly, he grinned. “Yeah well, it’s not as simple as you think.” He took a swig of beer before continuing. “I don’t hit anyone with that strap who hasn’t said he wants it.” He toyed with the rim of the bottle. “What freaks those guys out is when I ask them to spy for me on the yaks.” He gave Natsuka a serious look now. “I don’t persist. Once they tell me they won’t do it. I try someone else. Once I pick someone up though, I can’t resist…you know. I promise you it’s consensual. I’m always wired when I pick up these guys. If you don’t believe me, I’ll play you back the tapes.” Natsuka sighed. “No need. I was just wondering what part that plays in your investigation.” “What, you mean the kinky stuff?” “Yeah.” The grin returned to Tsugawa’s face, although the expression didn't reach his eyes. “It doesn’t really. I’ve just discovered some things about myself while working this neighborhood.” He shrugged again and took a sip of beer. “I’m not thrilled about it, but life is complex.” 103

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Natsuka grumbled and sat back. He caught sight of Tsugawa’s wedding ring as the guy lifted his beer bottle. Yeah, life was complex as hell. “So you don’t have any idea where Yuzo Kitano could be?” he asked Tsugawa after a few silent moments. Tsugawa shook his head, taking another sip of beer. “Not a clue. We tried to get a guy in there to plant bugs way before Kitano got involved with Fujimara, but our guy found devices already in place and didn’t dare disturb them. Fujimara probably put them there himself. Even though he’s off the yakuza map so to speak, he probably has to worry about the past biting him. “What do you mean, off the yakuza map?” Tsugawa shrugged again and Natsuka wondered what it was with these young people shrugging all the time. “Our trails show that he’s not been active in organized crime for awhile. But that doesn’t mean much.” Natsuka nodded. He hoped that if Toshi’s room had bugs, he’d find them. No doubt he would. Toshi was a damn good cop. Tsugawa took a few more sips of beer, put money on the table and stood. “I have to get going.” He offered a handshake to Natsuka. “Sorry about the misunderstanding.” He leaned into Natsuka a bit. “Look, you can contact me through OCCS if you have any questions about these guys that might help you, but please, keep it quiet that you know who I am, would you?” Natsuka accepted the handshake. “Of course. Anything you have on Fujimara or Suzuki that could relate to Kitano would be great. Thanks. Good luck.” When Tsugawa was gone, Natsuka sat by himself for a few minutes to digest the information Tsugawa had given him. He sighed deeply and drained the last of his bottle. He was glad he had something to report to Toshi. Still, two physical attacks in one day. That was a lot, especially when he considered his tactics. He could have been less direct with Mojo in his inquiry, phrasing his questions in a way that might not have sent the kid running away from him. And Tsugawa, well, the guy hadn’t exactly been breaking the law when Natsuka tackled him. And the young man he’d been hitting hadn’t exactly been begging him to stop, either. No, something else was going on, something inside him that was fueling his aggression. Toshi. Toshi was going to leave Japan. Toshi hadn’t said anything, but Natsuka knew that Toshi had always been unhappy here. What if John Holmes was the reason Toshi had been looking for to return to America? Now that Toshi’s uncle was gone, Toshi had no truly significant ties to keep him in here. He’d avoided fulfilling his father’s wishes for him all these years, he’d probably find a way to avoid them indefinitely. Through John Holmes. Natsuka set his empty bottle down and stood up. He found himself looking forward to curling up next to Tamiyo. He’d take what solace life offered him in the face of losing his best friend. 104

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***

“I can’t do this anymore.” Kiku’s heart pounded in his chest. The sight of his lover’s bound hands made his stomach churn. Yuzo was looking up at him with those huge eyes. The sadness Kiku used to see in them when Yuzo was with Taro Suzuki had returned. “Can’t do what anymore?” “This.” Kiku pulled a switchblade out of his pants pocket, popped the blade up and crossed over to the bed. “What are you doing?” Yuzo’s voice was barely above a whisper. Kiku knelt down and slid the blade under the bindings. “Ending your imprisonment.” He sliced mercilessly at the cloth knotted around Yuzo’s wrists. “I’ve let my fear of Suzuki reduce me to an animal.” He sawed until the cloth shredded and fell away, then he folded the knife and dropped it to the floor. Kiku’s stomach lurched again. Yuzo’s wrists were chafed. He picked up both his lover’s hands and pressed his lips to the redness, as if he could kiss it away, then held Yuzo’s hands to his cheek. “Forgive me,” he whispered. In his entire life, no one had ever reduced him to this desperate state. Not even Ryu. Then Yuzo and his soulful, beautiful eyes full of pain had done it almost instantly. One of Yuzo’s hands slipped out of his grasp and he felt its soft caress on his shaved head. Hot tears burned in Kiku’s eyes at the forgiveness in Yuzo’s touch. However, he’d never be able to forgive himself for what he’d done. Yuzo had been manhandled and brutalized enough. Fear or not, nothing could justify having drugged Yuzo, dragged him from his bed and kidnapped him. Not even to save his life. “There’s nothing to forgive, Kiku. You did what you felt was right.” Yuzo's hand stilled on his head. “I am a foolish child. Of all people, I know what Suzuki is, what he can do to people. I should never have argued with you.” Sorrow laced Yuzo’s voice. Yuzo’s other hand slid over Kiku’s. His fingertips brushed over Kiku’s mutilated pinkie. “I just can’t bear that you’d have to do this again…because of me.” Kiku’s heart lurched a second time. In all this mess, he hadn’t given any credence to Yuzo’s feelings of guilt. But now he felt Yuzo’s emotions, raw, heartbreaking. Who could go through life thinking his lover had endured yubizume for his sake? No problem for a man like himself, who’d spent much of his life as a yak, and understood the price of peace. But not a spoiled rich kid like Yuzo. Kiku lifted his head up. Yuzo’s beauty trapped him immediately as it had the first time Suzuki brought Yuzo to the Temple. Suzuki was a frequent customer. In addition to yubizume, free use of Kiku’s facilities had been part of their arrangement for Kiku’s leaving the Suzuki-gumi.. 105

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When Yuzo had been Suzuki’s lover…no, lover was the wrong word…toy. When Yuzo had been Suzuki’s toy, Suzuki always brought Yuzo with him to the Temple. The sadness and misery clouding Yuzo’s beautiful face and eyes had torn at Kiku’s heart. Kiku hadn’t hesitated to give Yuzo shelter when he’d run from Suzuki. “You saved my life, Kiku.” The admission made new tears burn in Kiku’s eyes. He rose up and pressed his lips to Yuzo’s. Those full lips that were, to him, heaven itself. Kiku slipped his tongue in and tasted the interior of his lover’s mouth, teeth, tongue, anywhere he could reach. Yuzo tasted like heaven too, mixed with the familiar tastes of garlic, soy sauce, oysters…Kiku’s mother’s cooking. Yuzo sighed. The tiny sound passed like a breath into Kiku. Even the sounds Yuzo made, the tiny murmurs and groans when they made love, bewitched Kiku, reduced him to a quivering mass of nerves, as if he were an adolescent boy experiencing his first love, not a forty-year-old man who’d been a criminal. Kiku pulled away and nuzzled his lover’s hands. “I ache to bring you home,” he whispered. “Please do.” He squeezed Yuzo’s hands more snugly against his cheek. “I can’t. Not yet. I must make the way clear. And there are cops. A cop, a detective. Genjin.” More visions had revealed Genjin on the Ronin Killer case. It hadn’t taken too much work on the Internet to find some foreign news archives that named him as the detective on the case. “He claims to be on vacation, but I don’t believe him. I believe he’s looking for you.” Yuzo stiffened. “Genjin?” Kiku shot up. His stomach lurched at Yuzo’s stricken look. “You know him?” “No. Not personally. His uncle and my uncle were lovers, since forever. His uncle saved my uncle’s life in the war and then they fell in love.” Yuzo tugged his hands away and grasped Kiku’s shoulders. “Kiku, my uncle must have asked him to look for me. My poor uncle! You must let me call him. I beg you!” Kiku grasped Yuzo’s hands. “No. Please. Wait. Just a bit longer. We can’t do anything that would risk Suzuki’s wrath. Let me take care of this all. I promise you I will.” He showered small kisses over Yuzo’s hands then looked up at him. “I won’t hold you prisoner anymore. I can only beg you to stay here with my mother a bit longer. She treats you well?” Tears glistened in his lover’s huge dark eyes. He nodded. “Very well.” He squeezed Yuzo’s hands, as if he could communicate his desperation through his touch. “I beg you. Will you stay here?” 106

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Yuzo nodded again. His bottom lip trembled and his fear, fear for his uncle radiated from him. Kiku saw the images Yuzo’s fear conveyed. Yuzo as a boy, and a man--an actor Kiku recognizedwalking together, kicking a ball in a parking lot. The elderly man had been the only person Yuzo had had to rely on until he came to the White Tiger. “I promise I’ll stay here.” Yuzo’s voice trembled and Kiku felt the churnings of emotions in his lover. Guilt, fear, horror, regret. And then Yuzo said the one thing that made this whole nightmare bearable. “I love you, Kiku.” *** The quiet slide of the soji screen woke John the next morning. He opened his eyes in time to see Naoto kneel down and place a tray inside the room on the floor. His gaze averted from the bed, Naoto moved back and slid the screen into place. When Naoto had gone, John turned over so the he faced Toshi. He loved the way Toshi looked when he was asleep, his beautiful face unguarded. Toshi’s dark eyelashes rested on his golden cheeks. His full lips were slightly parted, dark stubble on his chin and upper lip. His hair was still long enough to be mussed and it framed his face in the sexiest way imaginable. John resisted the urge to reach out and touch his lover. Toshi worked so hard and had been through so much that he hated to disturb his lover's rest even though he needed to explain to Toshi what he’d seen the night before. Toshi opened his eyes. He blinked several times and a lazy grin curved his lips when his gaze met John’s. “Hi.” John returned the smile. Damn, he felt so lucky to wake up next to this guy. He leaned over and kissed Toshi softly on the lips. “Hi. Naoto left a tray of food for us.” Toshi moved closer to John and snuggled against him. “In a minute,” he murmured and rested his cheek against his chest. He smiled and held Toshi, breathed in the scent of his skin and hair, still faint with the musk of sex. Just the memory of the night before caused John’s body to tingle. Watching those two men make love to each other had been an incredible experience. John wished the circumstances were different and that he and Toshi could just enjoy the erotic experiences without having to worry about whether these people were involved in a crime. Toshi stirred in his arms and looked up. “I guess we should have breakfast. After we go to the bath, I want to show you around the neighborhood.” He moved away from John and pushed back the covers. “Okay.” John watched Toshi, still naked, pick up the tray. John pulled the covers back, leaving 107

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space for Toshi to put the tray down. He didn’t try to talk with Toshi some more about Kiku, remembering Toshi's warning; the walls of this place probably had ears. Toshi sat back down and poured them each a small cup of green tea from a delicate pot. He handed John a cup and then took the covers off the small bowls. One lid revealed a bowl of steaming white rice. There were also two bowls of miso soup with pieces of seaweed and cubes of tofu. Other plates held pieces of grilled fish, small omelettes and various pickled vegetables. “Looks good.” John grinned. “A different world from what I grew up eating for breakfast.” He picked up his bowl of soup and sipped it. The tangy miso was light and delicate and actually quite satisfying. Toshi ate a few mouthfuls of rice with his chopsticks, then set everything down and put his finger to his lips. He slipped to the floor and began feeling around under the bed. “John, try those daikon, the pickled things in this bowl. They’re very good.” John had been in enough investigations to know what Toshi was doing and played along. He picked up one of the radishes and took a bite, crunching the salty pickle between his back teeth. “Delicious,” he said around the food. Toshi made his way around the bed, feeling underneath. He stopped and his eyes darkened. Toshi yanked and then held up something. John leaned forward and took it from him. The thing looked like a watch battery. He looked at Toshi, eyebrows raised. Toshi pointed to his ear, then at the floor. John got it. Kiku could hear everything. “So, Tosh, what should we do after we eat?” He made the question sound casual. Toshi nodded. “Nothing. You and that bed look too tempting to leave.” He grinned. If this was part of an act, his body didn’t know it, especially his cock, which automatically hardened. “Sounds good to me.” He picked up the tray and carefully set it on the floor, away from the bed. He lay down and patted the empty space beside him. Toshi’s eyes darkened. He didn’t seem to be completely acting, either. The warmth of his body invaded the space, along with his fresh musky scent. He threw the covers up around both of them and pushed in closer to his lover. With the touch of their lips, John felt his act fall away. Desire rippled through his body. He closed his eyes and parted his lips for a deep hot kiss while his hands clutched at Toshi’s arms. Yeah, this was no act. He slid his touch up Toshi’s hard arm muscles. Warm, smooth skin met the pads of his fingertips all the way up to Toshi’s hair. God, he loved the sleekness of it. For several long, sensuous moments, John slid his tongue against Toshi’s, tasted every moist, warm 108

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crevice of his mouth. Toshi moaned and moved closer. With his hand still laced in Toshi’s hair, he pulled Toshi tighter against him. That was it. He felt Toshi’s control slip. Suddenly Toshi pulled away from their kiss. He was panting now and his golden skin was flushed. “John, I’m not…practicing. I’m attacking you again.” He kissed Toshi again, chafing his lips hotly against his lover’s. Toshi’s fingertips moved like hot sparks over his nipples. The small peaks hardened immediately and John groaned into Toshi’s mouth. His words sent a delicious shiver through John’s entire body, right into his cock. Toshi’s sleek chest heaved, his chocolate-hued nipples tight with obvious arousal. John stared at Toshi’s bare torso a moment longer then let his gaze slide over his lover’s flat stomach and back up again. Goddamn, Toshi was the finest man he’d ever seen. “Fuck it. Just attack me.” Toshi yanked his shirt off the rest of the way and threw himself at John, pulling John into his arms. John sank into him. Gladly. He liked the wild side of his lover. Rubbing his chest against Toshi's, he kissed his lover again. Toshi groaned and pushed John onto his back. He nudged John’s legs apart and pushed his slim body between them. He didn’t have to push hard; John was happy to surrender and wrapped his legs around Toshi's hips. Toshi’s kisses were hot and wild, his tongue slid fervently against John’s. He sank down onto John, holding tightly and rubbing his hard cock against John’s. He clutched Toshi’s back and lifted his hips. Even through their pants, Toshi’s cock felt so damn good against his. Toshi’s skin was warm and smooth under his hands and John slid his hands down the ridges of muscle along Toshi’s spine and lower, eager to feel the smooth skin of his ass. Hell, if this was getting attacked, he could stand being attacked all day long. Toshi lifted his mouth away from John’s and John felt Toshi's teeth pull at his bottom lip. John felt how Toshi was trying to slow down, trying not to devour him. “I’m sorry, John,” Toshi panted in between kisses dappled on John’s skin. “You make me wild.” He sucked at John’s neck, sending tingles of heat through John’s whole body, right through his cock. “Every time.” John ground his hips against Toshi’s. “I don’t mind,” he breathed into Toshi’s ear. He tugged Toshi’s earlobe between his lips and tongue and suckled the tender flesh. He was rewarded with a deep groan. Mmm, he'd found another erogenous zone on Toshi’s body and was determined to make the most of it. He breathed hot into Toshi’s ear. Toshi surged against him and groaned. Wanting to fuel Toshi’s wildness, John nipped and tugged some more on Toshi’s earlobe and squeezed Toshi’s ass at the same time.

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His ploy worked. Toshi moaned and ground his cock against John’s in a fevered rhythm. Toshi slid his hands out from under John’s back and rose up, hands bridging John’s body. Toshi had that feral, hungry look he got when they made love. “John.” John slid his hands up Toshi’s arms, traced the outlines of his flexing triceps. “What is it?” Toshi seemed to hesitate a moment. His lips were swollen and moist from their kisses. His golden skin was flushed in the most erotic, sexy way imaginable. “Fuck me, all right?” The question…request…reverberated through John’s groin. Though they’d only been together a little over a week, it had always been clear that Toshi was the one on top. John had just taken it for granted, never minding, always loving it. “Is that all right?” He stared up, realizing he hadn’t responded. “Of course. I mean…if that what you want.” Toshi’s roiling emotions simmered in the air and John picked up on what a deep issue of trust this was for his lover. *** Toshi looked down at John. Sudden shyness almost overshadowed the desire simmering in his entire body. “I haven’t been sure of anything in a long time…until now.” He ground his cock against John’s in a deliberate motion. The truth was, since Michael, he hadn’t trusted anyone enough to relinquish control. Looking back, he realized that even though Michael had been the experienced one, there had been many times when he would have preferred to be in control then, too. Not now. John smiled at him, a tender look in his blue eyes. “I’d do anything, Toshi, in case there was any question in your mind.” The simple statement made a pleasant shiver run down Toshi’s spine. “I know you would. That’s why I trust you.” “Thank you, Tosh.” After a moment, John’s gaze drifted down. His smile faded, and hunger darkened his face. “God, you're incredible.” Toshi’s cheeks tingled. Of course, John had sensed what he was feeling. The praise urged him on. Leaning over he picked up the small jar of scented oil that had been provided with the room. He poured a small amount into his hands, stretched out beside John and smoothed the oil onto John’s cock. John groaned. As always, he surrendered to their kiss, his lips soft, yielding, and he swirled his tongue swirling against Toshi’s in a sweet dance.

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John’s cock was smooth and hard against his palm and he let his slicked fingers caress John’s balls, venturing lower, seeking his tight hole. Finding the small pucker, he teased it with his fingertips, pulling another deep moan that vibrated from John’s throat into his. Toshi teased the sensitive bud another moment then slid his hand back across John’s balls and up his cock, slick with lube. John pulled his mouth from Toshi’s. “Turn over,” he breathed. Gentle pressure on Toshi’s shoulder eased him onto his side and John closed in behind him. Toshi closed his eyes and relaxed into his lover’s body. He felt John’s lips rain kisses on the back of his neck while caressing his hip with one hand. “I love you,” John whispered close to Toshi’s ear. Without waiting for Toshi to answer, he flickered the tip of his tongue on Toshi’s earlobe, teased kisses behind his ear then on the side of his neck. “I love you, too.” Toshi closed his eyes. John’s touch eased the rest of his tension from him. This was a position, physically and emotionally, he’d never let himself be in before. Like that first time he kissed John and knew, from the touch of their lips together, that this relationship was different, he felt it now. John’s body, masculine and warm, was also gentle against his. Something about John made Toshi know he could trust him. Toshi shifted his legs, gave John full access to his backside. For some guys, being on top or bottom was simply a matter of preference, but for him, it had always been a matter of control. He felt like he’d completely lucked out finding John, and he wanted to share everything with him, something he’d thought for a long time was a hopeless dream. John kissed the back of Toshi’s neck. That little gesture made Toshi relax more, give himself over to the experience. John reached down between Toshi’s buttocks and caressed the tight hole with slick fingertips. He pushed one fingertip in, and the tingling pleasure made Toshi suck in his breath. John paused. “I’m not hurting you?” Toshi shook his head. “Hell no.” “Good. I sensed you’re enjoying this, but sometimes I doubt myself, and you feel so good.” He pushed his finger in deeper, pulsed it in and out. Toshi groaned. “Don’t wait too long, John.” John pressed another tender kiss to the back of his neck. “Whatever you want, baby,” he murmured. “I’m all yours.” Toshi could hear that John meant what he said. He rolled forward, giving John complete access to his ass.

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John shifted again. His hand slipped away and in the next second, Toshi felt the plump head of John’s cock press against his opening. With a hand resting on Toshi’s arm, John pushed his hips forward. Toshi leaned back against him, urged John’s cock deeper. Toshi’s eyes fluttered closed. He tilted his head back, felt his body melt against John’s. John’s cock filled his tight passage inch by delicious inch. He groaned. “Damn, that feels good.” John rested his lips against Toshi’s shoulder. His breath pulsed hot on Toshi’s skin. John moved his hips, just enough to send delicious heat through the tightness of the point where their bodies joined. Toshi caught his breath. John lifted his lips from Toshi’s shoulder. “How hard do you want it, Toshi?” His voice was thick with pleasure. The question alone weakened him. John’s cock deep inside him was incredible, made sparks of heat shiver along every nerve ending. He felt safe, held and let his body sag even more against his lover. “Hard,” he whispered. “My pleasure.” John’s weight shifted on him, pushing Toshi into the futon. John’s cock slid in deeper. Toshi pulled in a breath as John sank onto him, a delicious weight of warm muscle. There was a surprising command in John’s touch - a side of his lover Toshi was just seeing and which made him melt. John’s lips rested on Toshi’s neck. He felt them part followed by the tickle of feathered kisses, warm and moist on Toshi’s skin. John’s fingers pressed into Toshi’s hip as he slid his thick cock in and pushed in again. Hard. “Oh.” Toshi squeezed his eyes shut. He fisted the blanket, tense, yet relaxing into the motion. John pulled back and thrust again. The angle rubbed Toshi’s prostate. Pleasure darted through his groin. He groaned and pushed back against John’s thrusts. His own cock rubbed against the soft bedding each time. Tingling heat traveled through his cock, tightened his balls. His body, warm and damp, slid against John. John moaned and Toshi felt his cock twitch inside him. John gave one hard push until their bodies met, and stayed like that, one hand firmly on Toshi’s arm. John’s seed pulsed inside him and he squeezed his muscles around his lover’s cock, pulling one last groan from him. John’s body relaxed. He collapsed against Toshi, his breath heavy, and pulled Toshi closer to him. Without speaking, John reached around Toshi and stroked Toshi’s cock, his hand still slick from the lube. The warm heat of John’s hand sent sparks of heat through Toshi’s cock. He tilted his head back against John, eyes closed and moaned as John slid his hand rapidly up and down Toshi’s cock. 112

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With a jolt through his body, Toshi came and John stroked him until he was empty.

John pressed a kiss onto Toshi’s neck. “Thank you, Toshi,” he murmured, his voice still breathy.

Toshi leaned against him, feeling safe in John’s embrace. “You’re welcome, but it was great for me

too.”

John caressed Toshi’s shoulder. “I meant thank you for trusting me.” He fell silent and nuzzled

Toshi’s skin.

*** On their way to meet Natsuka, John walked next to Toshi, following their route of the previous evening to the strip of restaurants and cafés where they’d eaten at the night before. “Toshi, do you think the bugs have been in the room the entire time?” Toshi sighed. “Could be. He may have put them in before we got there.” John considered that a moment. This case seemed to have more questions than most, even the Ronin Killer case. Natsuka was already there, dressed in a Hawaiian print shirt and baggy linen pants. He sat with a cup of coffee on the small round table in front of him. When he saw Toshi, he rose and bowed to him and then to John. A waitress came over and Toshi and John ordered coffee. When she’d left, John waited while Toshi conversed in Japanese with Natsuka. Even though John only caught a familiar word here and there, he picked up that Natsuka was troubled about something. John watched him. The older man was feeling he’d disappointed Toshi somehow, even though judging by the blend of excitement and tension now radiating from Toshi, Natsuka had almost certainly learned something important. Just then the waitress appeared with their cups and Toshi waited until she’d set the coffee and tea down before speaking. He leaned toward John as if someone might be eavesdropping. “Natsuka found the guy with the mole.” John’s heart thumped. “You mean the one who was whipping Yuzo?” Toshi nodded. “That’s the one. And even better, he’s a cop, undercover. Looking for Suzuki. He picks up these kids who work as messengers for the yaks and tries to get them wired. He told Natsuka they always freak out and run away.” John sat back, digesting the information. “You’d think he’d change tactics.” “Yeah." Toshi raked a hand through his hair. “Well, Natsuka says he’s got a fetish. That stuff with 113

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the strap isn’t just a part of his act, apparently.”

“Oh. Well, sounds like he isn’t terribly careful. What if Suzuki found out?”

“Precisely. But it also gives us a sense of why Yuzo ran to the Temple. Maybe Kiku was protecting

him. From both Suzuki and this cop.” He sighed.

Toshi had another lengthy exchange with Natsuka before he spoke to John again. When he looked

at John, his expression was grim.

“We have a problem. Damn. Unfortunately, in both places, Natsuka had a confrontation.”

“Confrontation?”

Toshi nodded. “The first one, the kid tried to run and Natsuka tackled him in the baths. Then in the

other hattenba, Natsuka tackled the cop without provocation. He probably brought quite a bit of

attention to himself. Suzuki might be on the alert by now.” “Oh, I see.” John glanced at Natsuka. The same distress as before radiated from the older man. No wonder Natsuka felt as if he’d disappointed Toshi. A few more seconds in Natsuka’s presence and more understanding came. Natsuka was upset with himself for losing control, responding with more force than usual. The man was freaked that Toshi was going to leave Japan. Oh man. Guilt stabbed John. Natsuka’s upset was almost palpable. Suddenly, leaving for America with Toshi seemed the really wrong thing to do. The friendship Toshi had with Natsuka was a treasure. When this case was over, John knew he had some serious thinking to do. “Natsuka and I both realized something, John.”

A strange shiver ran up John’s spine. “What?”

“After what happened with Natsuka, we’ll have to find a different way. Fujimara is probably

already suspicious. Of course, he’s acting as if he believes our cover, but he doesn’t. I’m pretty

sure of that.” Toshi sighed and took a sip of coffee. “Now, we can’t risk anything.”

John sat quietly, sipping his coffee, searching his own mind for possible alternatives. God knew,

he’d assisted with enough investigations to have some idea of what to do. Then it hit him. “Toshi, I

have an idea.”

Toshi looked at him. “Go on.”

John shifted forward in his seat. “Well, you can wire me and I’ll stay there and try to find out what

I can. We’ll make up some excuse about your having to leave.”

Toshi looked for a second as if he agreed with the plan, but then his expression darkened. “There

are three drawbacks to your suggestion.”

John grinned. “What? I don’t even get a, ‘Wow great idea, John,’ before you tell me the

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problems?” “Criticism before praise.” Toshi’s face didn’t even crack a smile. “First, it’s dangerous. We don’t know what Fujimara is capable of. He could be a murderer, for all we know. Second, he may suspect you’re up to something, and thirdly…” Toshi fell silent and his glance darted to Natsuka and back. John felt the shift in Toshi’s energy, sensed the heat of possessiveness rise in him. Cheeks tingling, he glanced at Natsuka to see his response, before he remembered that Natsuka didn’t sense it too. Toshi’s possessive streak was flattering. He chuckled. “You don’t have to worry about that, Tosh. I don’t need to be touched below the belt or to touch below the belt.” Toshi’s cheeks colored slightly. “All right, but my first two reasons stand.” “I understand the danger, but I doubt Fujimara would do anything outwardly dangerous in the middle of his place. I’m sure he doesn’t want violence in his place of business.” Toshi exhaled and raked a hand through his hair, a gesture John was fast coming to recognize as one of severe frustration. Toshi turned to Natsuka and spoke to him. Natsuka looked at John. The older man’s expression conveyed that Toshi was explaining to him John’s idea. Natsuka shook his head and John sensed the two men’s mutual disapproval. Toshi looked at John again, his brow furrowed, eyes dark. “Natsuka agrees with me. I can’t go through this again, John. Last time someone I cared about insisted on helping me at risk to their safety, look what happened.” John took a deep breath. He couldn’t really argue with Toshi after what had happened to Musashi. Toshi hadn’t even had a chance to really grieve for his uncle yet, and he certainly understood Toshi’s dilemma. “I understand, Toshi. I’m sorry. But, I hate to say this, it looks like you have similar circumstances to the Ronin Killer situation.” Anger flashed through Toshi’s eyes. “How so?” “Another case with no evidence, no substantial leads and slippery criminals. All we know is that it’s possible Fujimara is hiding Yuzo and that he’s gone a couple of times to visit his mother. Not even the information we’ve gotten from the cop and the kid in the pick-up joint has led us further.” Frustration replaced the anger in his lover’s eyes. “True.” John sighed. “Well…it would seem that the most effective option would be to try and get psychic impressions.” Toshi didn’t answer. He sat looking down, not speaking to either John or Natsuka. Finally, he turned to Natsuka and spoke, presumably telling him what John had said. The other man nodded 115

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and murmured answers in return. Toshi looked back at him. “Damn it. All right. We’ll get you some kind of device today that you can wear and you’ll go back later this afternoon. Natsuka and I will be nearby at all times, listening and at the first sign of danger to you, we go in. I don’t care if we blow our cover and lose our chance to find Yuzo. I can’t let anything happen to you.” John resisted the impulse to reach out and squeeze Toshi’s hand. Toshi’s upset radiated from him, skittering in invisible waves along John’s nerve endings. Toshi spoke to Natsuka again. Natsuka listened then nodded. John watched Toshi drain his coffee cup and set it down with an especially loud clink. He threw some money onto the table and rose. “Let’s go. The sooner we get this over with the sooner I can stop feeling this way.” *** “Wear this.” Toshi took a watch out of his pocket and handed it to John.

As John’s fingers closed around the watchband, Toshi almost yanked it back. He hated that John

was doing this. The entire time they’d been back to the station to inform Keishi Ito about the case

and to explain why he was postponing his compassion leave, Toshi had been searching his mind for

possible alternatives, and finding none.

“Hey, Toshi, I know you’re worried about this, but I’ll be careful, I swear.”

Toshi sighed and surrendered the watch. “This has a transmitter in it. Natsuka and I will be able to

hear everything that goes on."

He watched John slip the watch onto his wrist and chuckle. John’s eyes sparkled with humor.

“This is so James Bond. Does it have a laser or something in it?”

“Yes, but you won’t need to use that function.”

John laughed. How could he be so calm?

“Too bad.” Then John's smile faded. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be joking.”

Damn, John could always read his mind.

“One or both of us,” he indicated Natsuka, “will always be listening to you. At the first hint of

trouble, we’re there.”

A couple of blocks from the Temple, Natsuka pulled up to the curb. Toshi exchanged a nod with

him and got out. Before they reached the door, Toshi looked at John. “Remember, Hayao is calling

me into work, all right?”

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“Got it.”

Back in their room, Toshi texted Hayao with the signal to call. Moments later, his cell phone rang

and Toshi went through the planned phony conversation with his assistant.

When Toshi clicked off, he sank down on the bed next to John.

“I’m sorry, but something has come up at work and I have to leave for a couple of days.” He

winked at John and took his hand.

“What’s going on?” John carried on the ruse. “Why do you have to leave now? We just got here.”

Toshi sighed. His gut tightened. “One of the other guys at work--his partner is getting some

medical tests done and they need me to fill in for him. Do you mind staying here without me? I won’t be gone long, I promise.” John feigned a long, disappointed sigh. “Sure, I guess not. I’ll miss you, though.” Toshi cupped John’s cheek. He loved the feel of John’s skin. “I’ll miss you, too.” He leaned into John and kissed him. *** Just before Toshi left, Toshi touched the watch on John’s wrist. “Remember; the first sign.”

John nodded. He already missed Toshi even though they weren’t going to be apart for long.

John went inside to their room and changed back into his kimono. The most logical beginning was

to walk around and pick up vibes, then try to get a massage.

Well, getting a man to touch another man in this place was probably not going to be so difficult.

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CHAPTER TWELVE Tokyo, 1987 Musashi lay on his back, his eyes closed. Although relations between himself and Toku had gotten better, the pressure to stay away from him was still there, a great strain on both of them and left Musashi exhausted. He wasn’t a young man anymore and the tears he cried now left him drained. Perhaps when Toshi went away to college things would change. And yet, that prospect made him ache also. He heard soft footfalls just outside his bedroom, followed by the warmth of a quiet presence. Musashi opened his eyes and turned his head on his pillow. A pair of large, soulful dark eyes watched him. His nephew. Toshi stepped into the room, approached the futon and knelt, hands resting on thighs, on the floor next to him. His nephew’s young face showed its usual concern. Musashi’s heart squeezed. At eighteen, Toshi had matured into a sensitive, intelligent, handsome young man. And after this summer, he was going to the United States for four whole years. He smiled at his nephew. Only Toshi’s presence in his life soothed the ache of his strained relationship with Toku. “Hello, Toshi. How long have you been here?” Toshi’s expression did not shift. He was a serious young man and Musashi rarely, if ever, saw Toshi smile. “Only a few minutes. I just got back from school.” Indeed, Toshi still wore the uniform of the English-style prep school he attended: navy blazer, white button-down shirt, striped tie and beige slacks. Musashi reached out and patted Toshi’s cheek. He so much wanted Toshi to be happy. That had been his intent when he convinced Toshi’s parents to let Toshi have some time in America. Toshi needed to live for himself a little before settling down to a life of duty. He hoped that this balance would help Toshi be a happier human being than he was. Musashi himself had suffered because his passion for Toku had consumed him, made him unable to fulfill his duties as a man. Musashi lay quietly while Toshi remained kneeling beside him. “How are your studies, Toshi?”

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“Fine.” Toshi hated school. Musashi’s eye fell on the detective novel that peeped from the pocket of Toshi’s jacket. Toshi only ever let his books show in front of his uncle. Musashi gave a quick nod. “Just keep your grades up.” So your father doesn’t take the book away from you. “I will, Uncle. Thanks.” That was the extent of their conversation, but Musashi knew that his nephew understood what went unsaid. Well, some of what went unsaid. There was so much that Musashi wanted to say to his nephew and couldn’t. He wanted Toshi to know the truth and to know there was someone he could speak with about what mattered to him most, but then Musashi would remember Mazao’s warnings. A few words revealing the truth of Musashi’s life would be all the weapons Toshi’s father needed to destroy their relationship. So Musashi remained silent, hoping that he could leave little clues along the way that Toshi might pick up on. Musashi glanced at the novel again. Toshi had already expressed an interest in police work. He possessed a desire for justice and a dislike of mysteries that remained unsolved. Perhaps that same tendency would serve him in his relationship with his uncle. That tiny hope kept Musashi going during the heart-sore times. Maybe one day the silence would be broken.

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

John started down the hall, tightening the sash on his kimono as he walked. If anyone asked him what he was doing, he’d planned to say he was going for a massage or to soak in the baths. What he really wanted to do was see if any of the areas he walked into produced any sorts of impressions that would give answers. So far, in the hallway of their room, John experienced nothing aside from the sexual vibes he’d sensed when he and Toshi had first walked in. John went down the stairway at the end of the hall and walked down the corridor that led past the room in which Naoto and Koji had given their demonstration of the White Tiger practice. A potent shiver of erotic energy cascaded through John’s body. He wasn’t sure if it was merely the memory of watching the two men make love or the lingering psychic impression they’d left that caused it. Two men, also dressed in white kimonos, emerged from one of the rooms at the other end of the inner courtyard and walked in John’s direction. They were the first hotel guests John had seen since arriving with Toshi. Older, Japanese men, with short hair; they nodded politely as they passed and John received an image of both of them, dressed in business suits, walking around in the same office. The couple went into one of the massage rooms. John watched them go. He’d actually wanted to go in there and see if he could receive any impressions from the room itself. That would have to wait. However, there were two other massage rooms. John stopped discreetly by the soji screen to the second room and listened. Hearing no movement within, he slid the screen back and slipped into the room. More erotic drawings covered the walls. The redwood floors were polished to perfection and the only furnishing was a futon on the floor in the center and a small table holding bottles of oil. John moved further into the room. The sensual vibes were strong in this room and grew more potent as he neared the futon. Waves of pleasure, not only because of the men's enjoyment of massage, but because for some of them, the massage seemed to be the only form of affection they received. This place, for them, was the one place in the world they felt they could be themselves. John stood still, took several deep breaths. So many emotions swirled in this room. He knew from personal experience that a skilled masseur could release long pent-up emotion in the person he was massaging. That happened a great deal in this room and John needed to concentrate, to discern the various feelings swirling around.

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He knelt down by the futon and rested his fingertips on the black cushion. As soon as he did, he was hit by a cascade of visions, one after the other, of men lying on this cushion, receiving sensual massage. John could see Naoto doing the massage, sometimes Koji, and sometimes young men he didn’t recognize. That’s when he saw him. Yuzo. Kneeling by the futon. Hands massaging an older man, slightly stocky build. Nearly every inch of exposed flesh covered by tattoos. John’s breath tightened. Kiku? No. Kiku was muscular but not stocky. The man turned his face…Taro Suzuki. John squeezed his eyes shut. Wild energy traveled through his fingertips up his arm and whirled in his body. After several seconds, the emotions became clearer. Yuzo felt trapped. He hated and feared Suzuki, yet was trapped. Suzuki’s possessive fervor for Yuzo made John’s chest tighten. This man ruled life with an iron fist. Anyone who crossed him was in danger. Then something else came through. Yuzo looking down at Suzuki with hatred while Suzuki was on his stomach and couldn’t see Yuzo’s expression. Yuzo was planning to escape him, to come here to the White Tiger and hide. John froze. His breath tightened and he couldn’t move. Toshi wasn’t here to touch him and mitigate the effect of the visions so John was forced to wait and experience them until they loosened their hold on him. “Are you all right, Mr. Holmes?” The male voice broke the flow of impressions. John sucked in a breath and went limp. “Mr. Holmes?” The voice was familiar. Kiku. John felt a pair of hands on his arm, lifting him. Energy traveled through Naoto’s warm touch up John’s arm, cutting through the resonance of the room, and assaulting John’s mind with visions of Naoto and Koji, naked bodies entwined. He glanced up. Naoto held his arm. The young man was crouched beside him, looking at him with concern. John cleared his throat. He took another deep breath, forcefully collected himself. “I’m fine, thank you.” He sat up, leaned back on his heels. Naoto’s hands remained on his arm. Before he got breathless again from the other man’s sexual energy, John pulled away. Kiku knelt on his other side now and John remembered that Toshi could hear everything that was happening. “Actually, I did come here to see if there was anyone available for a massage.”

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“Very well, Mr. Holmes. Naoto is trained in many forms of massage; whatever you desire. I will

leave him here with you and then, if you wish, I would welcome your company in the baths.”

John nodded. “Yes, thank you. I’d like that.”

Kiku smiled. He bowed and rose to his feet, leaving John alone with Naoto.

Naoto, too, smiled and gestured to the futon. “You may wish to remove your kimono.”

“Yes, of course.” Not wanting to appear hesitant, John pulled open the tie. His hand trembled a bit,

both from nervousness and from the after effects of channeling visions. He slipped the robe off and

lay down on his stomach.

Naoto picked up a towel, opened it and draped it over John’s bottom.

John rested his chin on his hands and breathed in relief. He watched Naoto pick up a bottle of oil

and pull the stopper. The warm scent of herbs filled the air around him.

Naoto warmed the oil in his palms, knelt beside John and placed his hands on John’s back. “What

is your preference for massage, Mr. Holmes?”

“Anything is fine. Just the regular kind, I guess.”

“As you wish.” Naoto rubbed in gentle yet firm circles, oiled hands gliding with the just the right

pressure on his muscles.

John felt his body relax a bit. He closed his eyes and let the massage help ease the tension from the

visions. Fortunately, Naoto’s touch moved the vibes he was getting to calmer, sensual vibrations

and more images of Naoto and Koji together.

John glanced at the wristwatch he wore and felt a pang, wishing that Toshi were here in the room

with him. “How long have you been here?” John asked Naoto. He worked to make the question

sound like casual conversation.

“Almost four years.” Naoto smoothed his oiled palms in long circles up and down John’s back. His

touch was very skilled and quite soothing.

“I see. It seems like a nice place.”

“It is. I had a bad life. Kiku-sensei found me on the streets just after my lover died.” The reverence

in the young man’s voice was clear. “He has such a loving heart; he took me in and taught me the

practices of the White Tiger. He paired me with Koji and now I experience peace and happiness

every day.”

“Oh. That’s wonderful.” John was surprised at Naoto’s sudden openness. “I mean, of course, not

that your lover died, but that everyone should have someone caring in their life.”

“I understand.” Naoto slid his hands downward, over John’s hips and began massaging John’s

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thighs. Now, John received other images through Naoto’s touch, as if Naoto were remembering the past and his memories conveyed through his hands. John saw Naoto on the streets. His hair was still long but his eyes looked troubled, angry. Kiku approached him, spoke to him and then the scene shifted. Naoto and Koji were facing each other, their hands on each other’s shoulders. Naoto’s eyes reflected tenderness instead of the despair of the earlier vision. “Does everyone who comes here as a student meet Kiku the same way you did?” “Some. Others came here to rest and to experience pleasure, then stayed because they found peace here and didn’t want to leave. Koji was like that. He worked in an office, with computers. He was miserable.” Naoto was silent a few moments while he worked some tension out of John’s calves. “Kiku-sensei understands suffering and he’s devoted his life to understanding and overcoming it. I hope to stay here always.” John opened his mouth to respond, but then another vision hit him. Nighttime. Streetlamps. Angry men in a small crowd. Naoto throwing himself between a man being attacked and his attacker. The look on Naoto’s face was fierce and he defended with quick fists. The image shifted. Naoto cradling a man in his arms. Tears streamed down Naoto’s cheeks as blood streamed from bullet wounds in the man’s body. Christ. His lover had been murdered. Naoto’s hands lifted from John’s calves and his massage continued upward. Fingertips dappled sensuously across the backs of his knees, creeping upward, then pressing in firmer circles over the backs of his thighs. John cleared his throat. His relaxation waned slightly as Naoto’s touch drew closer to the towel, and then ventured slightly underneath. The proximity of Naoto’s touch to John’s ass sent a streak of nervous tingling up his body and he moved away. “That was great, Naoto.” He sat up and pulled the towel tight around his hips. “I’m ready to go to the baths now. Would you show me the way?” Naoto bowed. He didn’t seem surprised by the abrupt way John had ended the massage. “Of course.” He handed John his kimono and rose. When Naoto’s back was to him, John shrugged quickly into his robe, pulled off the towel and followed Naoto through the doorway. Next stop, the baths. John released his breath. The sexual vibes of the place continued to assault him and he wondered briefly if his perceptive ability was failing him in this place because of the overabundance of erotic energy. Oh, well, they were almost to the baths. Too late to wonder… *** Natsuka left their stakeout to get them coffee. When he got back, Toshi was sitting in the car, 123

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listening intently to a pair of headphones, the window cracked open, cigarette smoke escaping through the opening. Natsuka knew that Toshi was uptight about having left John alone in that place. Toshi always smoked when he was stressed Natsuka opened the driver’s side door and slid in. He greeted Toshi and handed him the coffee.

“Thank you.” Toshi pulled the headphones off one ear, took the cup and popped open the lid. “So

far nothing’s going on. John’s just leaving the massage room now.” He took a sip of coffee and

held out his pack of cigarettes to Natsuka.

Natsuka stowed his coffee cup and plucked one from the pack, adding his smoke to the cloud

already lingering in the car. “Anything yet?”

Toshi took another drag on his cigarette. “He was talking with one of Fujimara’s disciples.

Apparently Fujimara provides a place for lost, lonely desperate men.”

“Like Yuzo Kitano.”

“Precisely.”

Toshi turned straight ahead, roughly raking a hand through his hair. He took a heavy drag on his

cigarette, burning it to a nub, which he tossed out the window. “Now he’s in the baths.”

A brief prickle of heated shame danced over the back of Natsuka’s neck as he remembered his own

behavior in the baths of the hattenba.

“Great. Now he’s there with Fujimara and who knows who else. Alone and unarmed. Shit! Shit!

Shit!” Toshi looked at him with a pained expression. “I can’t believe I let John talk me into this. He

has no business being in there alone. Shit!”

Toshi’s upset made Natsuka’s heart lurch. Before he knew what he was doing, he reached out and

squeezed Toshi’s shoulder, and rested it there in his desperation to comfort him.

Toshi froze and looked at Natsuka, wide-eyed. In four years of working together, of friendship, Natsuka had rarely touched Toshi. He never touched anyone, really, except for his wife. “He can handle himself, Toshi-san. He was in the military after all. He’s been trained to fight.” Toshi exhaled. He pulled another cigarette from the pack and lit it. “It doesn’t matter how much he’s trained. Not to me. He’s never dealt with yaks before. He shouldn’t be in there.” Natsuka sighed. He patted Toshi’s shoulder a couple of times and lifted his hand away. Toshi was right. Natsuka sat back and puffed his cigarette down to the stub. Then he picked up his coffee giving his hands something to do. “We’re only a few seconds away if he needs help, my friend.”

His words seemed to calm Toshi a little, but not completely. Natsuka sighed again. He’d never seen

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Toshi like this before…in love. And now Toshi was afraid of losing John.

Natsuka’s cell phone rang. “Yamamoto.”

“Yamamoto Keibu, it’s Tsugawa.”

“Yes?”

“You know, from the Luck Club?”

“I know.” Natsuka never forgot a guy he’d tackled.

“Yeah. I was calling because I went through my files and found some stuff on Fujimara. Don’t

know if it’s useful.”

“Go ahead, please.” Natsuka wanted to be grateful for the unsolicited favor from the guy, but

couldn’t get the image of Tsugawa with the strap from his mind.

“Sure. Until ten years ago Fujimara belonged to the Suzuki-gumi. As far as we know, he never

committed murder. He ran an illegal gambling den from his hotel. That is, until he went on a

business trip to Shanghai back in 1996. It wasn’t even a month after that he went legit.”

“Mm.” So far, not anything that they hadn’t managed to glean themselves. “Go on.”

“So if you’ve met him, you know he did yubizume.”

“Yes. Standard procedure for leaving the organization.”

“However, a recent surveillance photo shows Fujimara going and coming from Suzuki’s office in

Shinjuku ni-Chome.”

Natsuka sat up straighter. This was different. Why keep returning if he was legit? “Do you know

why?”

“No. It doesn’t make sense either, because Fujimara has gone to prison a couple of times and didn’t

talk. That makes him respected even though he left the organization.” A frustrated sigh followed.

“That’s why I’ve been trying to get someone on the inside since that woman was shot down. Since

last night, I’m being avoided as if I were a three-headed oni.”

Damn. Natsuka knew who was responsible for that.

“Hey, Yamamoto, you wouldn’t happen to have someone wired up, would you? Soemone who

could get me intel from the White Tiger?”

“No.” More guilt streaked through him at his lie. However, he wouldn’t do anything to risk Toshi’s

investigation more than he already had. Favor or no favor.

Another pause on the line gave him the feeling that Tsugawa didn’t believe him. “Well,” he said

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finally, “If you do, would you let me know? In the meantime, I’ll call you if I find out anything more.” “Sure. Thanks.” Natsuka ended the call and relayed his conversation to Toshi. “Do you think Yuzo Kitano is the reason for Fujimara’s going back to Suzuki’s office?” he asked Toshi. He watched Toshi take another long drag on his cigarette and then toss the butt out the window. “Probably. If Kitano was lovers with Suzuki then ran to Fujimara for protection, which is our current theory, then yes.” Toshi heaved a deep sigh. “Natsuka, we can’t leave John in there more than one night. We’ve got to get him out of there as soon as possible.” “I know, my friend.” Natsuka settled in, and picked up a second pair of headphones so he could listen to the transmission. He knew he’d do anything he could to make sure nothing happened to John Holmes, not only for Holmes’s sake but for Toshi’s. Whatever Toshi wanted, Natsuka wanted for him, even though Natsuka never made such declarations. He loved Toshi and wished Toshi wouldn’t leave, but he couldn’t bring himself to say what he felt. Toshi already carried enough burdens and Natsuka didn’t want to add to them. Natsuka sighed and took a drag on his cigarette. Yeah, Tsugawa had been right. Life was complex. *** “Mr. , please join us.” Kiku smiled at John from his place in the large bath. John nodded. His stomach did a little dance inside as he slipped off his robe again and stepped into the steaming water. Kiku sat surrounded by Koji and two other young men, equally as handsome. Koji was massaging Kiku’s shoulders. Water glistened off their skin and hair. The scene was more potent than watching the most explicit skin flick. John stepped into the tub, grateful that all the men in the tub averted their gazes respectfully until he was submerged. He sat back, his arms resting on the sides to keep the wristwatch out of the water. When he was seated, Naoto descended into the bath and took a place closer to Kiku. “I hope that you enjoyed your massage, Mr. Holmes.” John smiled, doing his best to appear more relaxed than he felt, in spite of Naoto’s skillful massage. The energy in the water simmered with more raw male sex and all the relaxation Naoto’s hands had rubbed into John quickly dissipated. “I did, very much, thank you.” “Naoto is a very devoted and able student.” Kiku’s eyebrows rose. “Where is your companion, Mr. Holmes?” “You may call me John.” 126

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“Thank you..”

John’s gut tightened. “He had to go away overnight. Someone at work was sick and they needed

him to fill in. Nothing serious.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Kiku cleared his throat. “You two have been together a long time, if I may ask?”

John did his best not to stare at Koji’s hands sliding over Kiku’s sleek, wet muscles.

“No, actually. We met recently. I was…traveling and um…Toshi picked me up. I was having a bit

of an anxiety attack. I…get them sometimes. Anyway, Toshi he helped me out, made sure I was

okay.” He grinned. “Well, we just clicked.”

Kiku stared at him. “Amazing. The way you are together…I’ve only seen in couples who are long

established. You have something special.”

John felt his cheeks warm. He nodded. “Yes, I know. Thank you.”

Kiku nodded politely. “You’re welcome.” He tilted his head forward, his muscled body obviously

languid under Koji’s expert hands.

John’s stomach fluttered again. Now that he’d already had a massage from Naoto, he wasn’t certain

how to maneuver another one from Kiku.

John let his gaze rove over Kiku’s tattoos. Truly the swirls of color and details of the tigers leaping

across his skin were magnificent, even if the tattoos signified the man’s involvement in organized

crime.

In that moment, an idea hit him. He shifted in the water and moved his shoulder around. He made a

show of rubbing it and glanced at Kiku.

“Mr. Holmes, are you all right?”

John looked up again. The concern on his host’s face showed John he’d hit a bull’s eye.

“I’ll be fine, just this old sports injury that acts up from time to time.” He made a show of rubbing

it.

Kiku came forward in a ripple of water and pushed John’s hand aside. Before John could say a

word, Kiku’s large hands covered his shoulder, massaging it with expert pressure.

John tilted his head back and sighed. “Thank you. It’s never completely healed.”

The pressure of Kiku’s skilled fingers kneading the muscle did feel incredibly good, the pleasure of

it rippling through John’s body.

“Is that better?” Kiku asked.

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“Definitely.”

“I’ll massage the muscles around it so that they’ll be relaxed and take pressure off the shoulder.”

“Thank you very much.”

Kiku’s touch fanned out from John’s shoulder as Kiku began kneading more of John’s upper back.

A few seconds passed with only the feeling of Kiku’s hands on his back and then bam. John saw more. Yuzo in the same pool, staring at Kiku. Yuzo with Suzuki, staring at Kiku over Suzuki’s shoulder. Yuzo holding Kiku. The two men kissing and making love. The mood shifted. Yuzo looking angrily at Kiku. He was speaking and even though John couldn’t hear the sounds, Yuzo’s eyes flashed, his expression pained and he appeared to be arguing with Kiku. John froze under Kiku’s hands. The current vision chilled his blood. Yuzo asleep. A hand with a cloth clamped over his mouth. Yuzo’s eyes popped open. He struggled and then appeared to go unconscious. John saw Kiku lift Yuzo off the bed and carry him out. Kiku lifted his hands away, breaking the spell. “Mr. Holmes, are you all right?”

John blinked and turned to him. “I’m fine…thanks. Just a headache all of a sudden.”

“Perhaps you should go to your room and rest.”

John nodded. “I think I’ll do that. My shoulder feels much better, though. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

*** Kiku watched John Holmes ascend from the pool and wrap a towel around his hips. His guest went into the changing room and disappeared. Kiku nodded to Naoto. He wanted to know where Genjin had really gone, but now didn’t dare send Ryu in pursuit, not with Suzuki now threatening to take Ryu from him. Kiku’s gut tightened. His suspicions had been correct. The entire time his hands had been on the gaijin the visions had not stopped. Genjin and another cop picking Holmes up at the airport. Holmes touching a bed covered with blood while Genjin stood by, watching. Genjin with his gun pointed, stalking through an apartment with Holmes close behind him. Yuzo’s uncle riding in a car with Holmes, Genjin and the other cop. No doubt the elderly man was asking them to search for his missing nephew.

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Kiku had gotten a couple of other visions. Genjin and Holmes having sex in a shower, then on a bed. Then he’d seen their entwined bodies roll over as one body to avoid a man with a sword who plunged it into the mattress, missing them by mere inches. The Ronin Killer. Yes, Genjin and Holmes were obviously madly in love, but Genjin was a cop and the gaijin helped

cops. And they were searching for Yuzo.

“What do you wish me to do, Sensei?” Naoto asked.

Kiku held up a hand.

“Nothing yet. I must think first of a way to get them out of here.”

The deadline Suzuki had given him for yubizume was tomorrow. He had to get the cops out of here

by then. Damn it. He’d wanted to take care of this situation non-violently. Now he wasn’t so sure

that was possible…

*** John went up to the room, heart pounding. His hands trembled as he threw on his clothes. He had to

get to Toshi as soon as possible and tell him what he’d seen. That is, without being followed.

Grabbing the cell phone Toshi had given him, he slid back the soji screen and peeked out.

So far so good. The hallway was quiet.

“Mr. Holmes, do you need anything?”

Naoto.

John’s heart felt like it would thrash right through his chest.

“No, thank you. I’m just going out to get some supper. I’ll be back in a little while. My friend said

he might be coming back later. Let me know if you see him.”

Naoto bowed. “Very good.”

John turned and started down the hall, affecting as casual a gait as possible. Though his blood

pounded mercilessly, he felt the other man’s gaze on his back and didn’t miss the suspicion that

clouded the air.

When he got outside, he heaved a deep breath and turned in the direction he knew would lead him

to Toshi’s stakeout. He glanced behind him. No one followed him. Thank God.

He dialed Toshi on the cell phone.

Toshi picked up on the first ring. “John, are you all right?” Toshi’s upset emanated right through

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the line.

“I’m fine, baby.”

He heard a sigh of relief on the other end. “John, where are you? I want you to come to the car.”

John nodded, even though Toshi couldn’t see him. Truthfully, he really missed him. “Just direct me

to where you are.” He followed Toshi’s instructions and ended up in a back alley.

Toshi jumped out of the car and pulled John into his arms.

The car door opened and Toshi jumped back. He exchanged a few words with Natsuka who then

nodded and disappeared around the corner.

Toshi breathed a sigh and turned back. His eyes now radiated gladness to see John. “Natsuka’s

going to have a cigarette.”

John smiled and stepped toward Toshi. “Damn considerate of him.”

Toshi’s hands came out again and John let himself be pulled closer. He tilted his face up and kissed

Toshi. Toshi’s soft full lips chafed against his and he felt his body already begin its melting surrender. He closed his eyes and parted his lips. Toshi groaned and answered the silent invitation for a deeper kiss. A car horn sounded nearby and Toshi jumped again, pulling away. The sudden absence of his lean body in John’s arms made John feel mournful, but he said nothing. There was something really crucial to tell him. “Hey Toshi, I have something to report to you.” He saw Toshi’s expression shift into its serious detective mode. “Tell me.” John sighed. “Well, you heard me in the baths tell Kiku I hurt my arm, and then he massaged my

shoulder?”

“Yeah.”

John ignored the flicker of jealousy through Toshi’s dark eyes. “When he did so, I saw…images.

Images of him grabbing Yuzo out of sleep, dragging him from bed and taking him somewhere. The

whole kidnapping thing, with the stuff on the cloth that makes you black out. Everything.”

Toshi’s eyes widened. His hands shot out and grasped John’s upper arms. “John, holy shit. Did you

see where he took Yuzo?”

John’s shoulders sagged under Toshi’s hands. “No. Unfortunately, he stopped before I could see

anything else.”

“Damn.” Toshi sounded pissed. “That doesn’t necessarily go along with the theory of Yuzo’s going

to him for safety.”

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“Maybe not. But, we don’t know what happened in the interim. That’s the missing piece.” John sighed. “I’m sorry, Tosh. I’ll get more for you, though. Tonight, or tomorrow. Or however long it takes. Yuzo looked miserable in the visions with Suzuki. And he looked happy with Kiku, except for the scene where they were fighting. So at least we have that to go on so far.” Toshi raked a hand through his hair. “No. John, I can’t let you. This is dangerous. I feel it. I’m going back in with you. Just the fact that the room is bugged in the first place… Kiku’s suspicious. He could be dangerous.” John reached up and cupped Toshi’s cheek. He loved the feel of Toshi’s stubble against his skin. God knew he wanted nothing else but for Toshi to go back with him, but knew it was too risky. “If you do, Toshi, I think it’ll look more suspicious.” Truthfully, John didn’t want to stay a night without Toshi, but he also wanted Toshi to be successful in finding out what had happened to Yuzo. “I’ll be fine. I’m pretty advanced in several forms of martial arts. I can protect myself.” “Not if there are guns.” Toshi’s dark eyes looked caught between anger and worry. John caressed Toshi’s cheek. “I feel like we’re close to some answers.” Toshi sighed. “I know.” He looked at John with a hard expression. “Starting tomorrow, though, I’m sending in more undercover officers and taking you out of there. In the meantime, at the first sign of trouble, Natsuka and I are there…armed and ready.” “I’ll remember.” John already missed the feel of Toshi’s warm sleekly muscled body against his. *** As soon as John walked into the lobby, Naoto appeared. John’s heart thumped. He’d meant to go looking for Kiku on his own, but apparently there was some sort of invisible buzzer or something that alerted them when someone entered the hotel. Naoto bowed. His demeanor seemed courteous as usual, but that sense of suspicion still hovered around him. “Welcome back. Is there anything you need, Mr. Holmes?” He cleared his throat. Something in Naoto’s demeanor had changed. “Actually, yes. Is Kiku available? I had some questions for him regarding the practices.” A flash of something passed through the other man’s eyes. To the naked eye, it was nothing, but to John’s psychic nerves, the undercurrents of stress simmered underneath the quick movement. He realized this wasn’t the time to go wandering around the hotel on his own. “I regret the Kiku sensei is unavailable at this time. I apologize for the inconvenience.” “No problem. Tomorrow, perhaps. It’s probably just as well, I’m exhausted. I think I’ll turn in.” Naoto bowed. “As you wish. Call if you need something.”

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Back in the room, John undressed to his boxers and got under the covers, remembering at the last second to take the watch off and leave it on the bedside table. Then he settled in and tried to sleep. However, for a long time, he tossed and turned, unable to rest because of the sexual vibrations constantly humming through the place. When Toshi had been with him, his lover’s healing touch had dulled the psychic reverberations in the Temple, basically drowning them out. Without Toshi, the sensations bombarded John, kept his body in a constant state of intense arousal. He thought of jerking off to stave off some of the energy, but knew that really wouldn’t work. The impressions of the place would still pick at his mind, keeping him awake. He opted for half a sleeping pill from the bottle he kept in his shaving kit and eventually he felt drowsy enough to drift off to sleep. John dreamed that a giant white tiger leaped toward him. Giant paws outstretched, fangs bared, the creature landed in front of him. John’s body tensed, ready to defend himself, but the tiger remained where it was, green eyes glowing like small suns. Mr. Holmes. Whispers of his name curled in the air around the beast. John stared into the creature’s eyes. Light glinted off the tiger’s huge fangs. Mr. Holmes. John blinked several times. The tiger’s face looked more and more human with each passing second.

Slowly, he recognized Kiku’s face, his almond-shaped eyes staring back at John with an angry,

threatening, glare.

“Mr. Holmes.”

John blinked again. Kiku was still there.

He wasn’t dreaming anymore. Was he?

He sat up, rubbed his eyes. Sleepiness clung to him and he expected Kiku to vanish when he

opened them.

Kiku was there. He rose up on his knees. Something flashed silver.

John blinked.

Light glinted again.

Off a sword blade. Upraised in Kiku’s hands.

Shit. Not again.

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

John vaulted off the bed. Seconds closed the space between him and Kiku. His torso impacted the other man’s and he felt their crash to the floor. From the corner of his eye, John saw the blade clatter to the side. Kiku pushed. John drew his knees up and shoved against Kiku’s chest. A grunt resounded through the room as Kiku fell back. In a flash, the man had rolled back over and tackled John. Hands locked on John’s arms, and John felt himself being rolled. He pushed back, funneling his strength into turning them both back over. Shit, the wristwatch. It was on the bedside table. Did Toshi hear what was going on? John struggled against Kiku’s strength. Kiku was over him. His face was red, tight in the grimace of his obvious exertion. John lifted his head and butted Kiku’s forehead. Kiku jerked back and John vaulted up and pushed Kiku onto his back. He gripped Kiku’s wrists, straddled him and bore down. He waited for Kiku to struggle but Kiku stared up at him, panting. The man's eyes looked dazed from the head butt. “Mr. Holmes…” John’s heart pounded. Despite Kiku’s apparent submission, John kept a hold of him. In moments, he felt the shift of energy that simmered through his veins along with psychic impressions. Kiku’s emotions flowed into him through the point of contact. With each passing second understanding flooded him. The truth made John exhale sharply. The pieces fell into place, much the same way they had when he and Toshi worked on the Ronin Killings. “You’re protecting him, aren’t you?” Kiku’s eyes widened. “Please…” He looked caught in an inner battle. The anger in his dark eyes shifted to something else, something softer. Visions hit John, flowed through his mind. Kiku slicing off bonds around Yuzo’s wrists, kissing the reddened skin. Tears in Kiku’s eyes as he gazed worshipfully at the younger man. Yuzo’s hand caressing his lover’s bowed head. Kiku’s lips parted as if he was about to speak, but just then the soji screen door slid back. “Get your hands up, now!” John shot his gaze up. “Me?”

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Toshi looked at him. “John, get off him, to the side.”

The second John lifted himself up, Toshi and Natsuka were on either side of Kiku, guns pointed.

“Sit up, hands behind your head.” Toshi’s voice was hard.

John watched Kiku obey slowly.

Toshi yanked out a pair of handcuffs and slapped them on Kiku’s wrists behind his back. He never

took his gun off the man. Toshi’s face was dark with rage, his beautiful eyes flashed at Kiku as if he’d shoot him dead then and there if Kiku moved a muscle. “Toshi, “it’s all right.” He saw Toshi’s fierce protectiveness and felt a surge of love for him. “What’s all right, John?” Toshi said, not looking away from Kiku. “That this man attacked you?”

“He didn’t attack me. If anything, it was me who attacked him. He’s protecting Yuzo.”

“Did he tell you this?”

John stood up from the bed, glad for the fact he’d gone to sleep in his boxers. This would have

been a bad time to be the only naked man in the room.

“No, he didn’t tell me. Not in words, anyway. I…saw it, of course.”

A sudden rush of feet pounded in the hallway and in the next moment, several disciples, including

Naoto and Koji crowded the doorway.

“Sensei!”

“Stay back,” Kiku ordered them calmly. He turned to Toshi.

“Mr. Holmes is correct,” he went on, his voice still calm, the tone one of surrender and sorrow. “I

adore Yuzo. I would give my life to keep him safe. I got him away from the yakuza who treated

him like a slave.”

Toshi’s wary expression didn’t shift.

“So why kidnap him? Why force him away if you want to protect him?”

Kiku heaved a deep sigh. He bowed his head with the air of someone preparing to speak of

something painful.

“Because he’s young and impetuous and doesn’t understand the lengths to which a yak will go to

defend his own honor.” Kiku paused.

“Yuzo was someone else’s property. Not just anyone else’s property, but Suzuki’s. When Yuzo

came here to stay with me, this yak felt I had stolen his property from him and slurred his honor.

Because I used to be one of them, he demanded a traditional apology from me. That was the only

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way he would consider the matter set right. Today is the deadline. I must apologize today or he’ll start a war against me.” *** “Why a deadline? Why did he give you time to apologize?” Toshi kept his gun trained on Fujimara. Anger pulsed hot through his veins. He didn’t know whom he was angrier with, Fujimara for attacking John or himself for endangering John. “Out of respect to his father who favored me.” Toshi glanced at the man’s hands. “You’ve already done yubizume once.” Kiku nodded. “That was for leaving. I didn’t know Yuzo then. Now, that I’ve taken what Suzuki considers his, I must apologize a second time. I was willing to give the yak his apology—Yuzo is worth more than that small sacrifice—but Yuzo went mad about it, said he'd run away from me if I did. When I insisted it was the right thing to do, Yuzo threatened to go to an undercover cop and tell him where to find the man in question. As you well know, that could have gotten us all killed. So one night I drugged Yuzo and put him in hiding. I was able to convince him to stay there until it was safe.” Kiku shook his head. “But it will never be safe until I apologize properly.” He looked at Toshi. “I was a member of that family. My crimes in the past have been many, but I will not reveal their identity. My silence was the condition of my freedom from them.” He sighed. “I miss Yuzo and want him back.” Toshi glanced at the fallen sword. “So why the hell did you come in here with that?” Kiku’s eyes looked pained. “To do yubizume here, in front of Mr. Holmes. He’s like me. He’d understand. I felt if I explained what was happening, he’d help me.” “What do you mean he’s like you?” A tiny smile played about Kiku’s lips. “He sees things the way I see them.” Toshi heard John catch his breath. He didn’t lower his gun. “We came here because Yuzo’s uncle is afraid he’s dead. He couldn’t find out anything about his nephew on his own and so he asked me to look for him. Where is Yuzo Kitano?” Kiku remained silent, his head bowed. Toshi’s lips curled and anger flashed in his dark eyes. “Answer me, damn it. We have enough evidence to put you in prison. You want to see Yuzo only on visitor’s day?”

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Kiku raised his gaze to Toshi’s. “I will bring you to him directly, you and his uncle, if you uncuff me and let me make my apology. Only then will it be safe enough for Yuzo to return. If you try to bring Suzuki down, he’ll start a war against me. You know that. One by one he’ll hunt and kill my men. He’ll burn this place. Please…release me and I will bring you to Yuzo.” Toshi’s heart pounded. He heaved a deep sigh. There was no need even to consider this situation. He already knew all the angles. Damn it, he’d have to allow Kiku to make his apology. “Natsuka, don’t lower your weapon yet,” he said to him. Natsuka nodded and Toshi unlocked the cuffs, also keeping his gun pointed at Kiku. “Naoto,” Kiku said, “Bring me that sword.” Naoto stood, a pained expression on his face. “Sensei—“ “Now.” Kiku held out his hand. Reluctantly, Naoto retrieved the fallen sword and handed it to Kiku. “One false move and I’ll take you down,” Toshi hated to threaten Kiku in such a moment, but he still didn’t trust him. Kiku bowed. “I swear to you on my honor that I will do only what I said that I would do.” Kiku then looked at John. “Please, Mr. Holmes, accept my apology for the way I frightened you. For someone who has been on a spiritual path for ten years, I approached you in the most unacceptable way.” John nodded. “Apology accepted.” Kiku looked at him a moment longer then turned. He took the sword from Naoto and pulled off the sash of his kimono. He knelt down, laid the sash on the floor in front of him then leaned over, left hand on the floor, palm up. Toshi watched Kiku raise the sword. “Wait!” Kiku looked up at him and Toshi lowered his gun and opened the chamber. He pulled out a bullet and knelt down, holding the bullet to Kiku’s lips. “Bite down on this, at least.” Kiku looked at him. His expression showed that he was moved by Toshi’s offering. He opened his mouth and let Toshi place the bullet between his back molars. Toshi straightened and let Kiku proceed. Toshi closed his eyes when Kiku raised the sword again. The thud of the sword blade hitting the floor resounded through the room and Kiku grunted in pain. Without thinking, Toshi rushed for a towel in the bathroom and brought it to him. Kiku was breathing heavily, sweat beading on his 136

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upper lip and forehead. Toshi grabbed a second small towel and picked up the finger.

“Naoto, take that to him,” Kiku said. “You can tell him the second cut made me ill and I couldn’t

bring it myself. I’ll show him the proof later.”

Tears glistened in Naoto’s eyes but he nodded and took the grisly package from Toshi.

Toshi and Natsuka lowered and holstered their guns. Nausea roiling in his gut, Toshi pulled out a

handkerchief. He yanked the kimono off of Kiku’s hand and tied off the wound as tightly as

possible.

“Natsuka, take him to the hospital, please.”

“No! I want to see Yuzo. Please.”

Toshi looked at him a moment. He felt for the man truly, but couldn’t take a chance that Kiku

would bleed out. He shook his head.

“No. Tell me where to find Yuzo, and I'll see that he comes to you, but you need medical attention

immediately.” He turned to Natsuka. “Take him to the emergency room.”

Natsuka nodded. Keeping his gun trained on Kiku, he took Kiku’s arm.

“I’ll go with him.” Koji stepped forward. Tears shimmered in his eyes.

“All right.” Toshi turned to Kiku, and gestured for the man to speak. Kiku did not meet his eyes.

“Yuzo's in Yokohama. I…brought him to my mother’s home.”

Toshi jotted down the address. “Thank you.”

“Genjin-san,” Kiku bowed his head. “May I request the company of Mr. Holmes, please?”

“John?” Toshi felt his shoulders tense at the request. He watched John study Kiku’s face for a

moment.

“I’ll go with him. I understand. Just give me a minute to dress and I’ll be down.”

Toshi nodded to Koji who came forward, took Kiku’s arm and led him in following Natsuka out of

the room, leaving John and Toshi alone.

“John, are you sure?” He pulled John into his arms. Squeezing him close, he buried his face in the

curve of John’s neck.

“I’m sure, Toshi. He has his reasons. It’ll work out.”

John’s body trembled in his arms and Toshi raised his face and looked into his eyes. “Are you all

right?”

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John smiled though his face was pale behind the tan. “I’m fine. A little shaken from having watched a guy cut off part of his own finger, but all right, considering.” Toshi hugged him again, never wanting to let go. “I don’t know what I would have done if he’d hurt you.” John slipped a hand slip into his hair. “He didn’t hurt me, Toshi. He had no intention of hurting me. But thank you for protecting me the way you did.” Toshi lifted his face from the warm curve of John’s neck. John was dressed only in under-shorts and part of Toshi wanted nothing more than to lay John down on the bed and make love to him. He pressed his lips to John’s and kissed him. Slipping his tongue past the seam of John’s lips, he caressed John’s tongue with his until heat spiraled through his whole body, melting away the events of the morning. Finally, Toshi braced himself to pull away from their kiss. “I must bring Tokuma to his nephew.” John nodded, his blue eyes dusky. “I know. Toshi sent John off to the hospital with Kiku and got into a taxi to Tokuma’s apartment. On the way, he dialed Tokuma from his cell phone. “Imoru-san,” he said when the elderly man answered. “I’m on my way to pick you up. Yuzo is safe and I’m bringing you to see him.” *** Thirty minutes later in Yokohama, Toshi knocked on the apartment door of the address Kiku had given them, his badge at the ready. Imoru stood behind him. After several moments, the door opened, revealing a Chinese woman about seventy, her hair in a large bun piled on top of her head. Her eyes widened. “May I help you?” Toshi held up his badge. “Fujimara-san?” “Hai. You are the inspector? My son called and said you were coming. Is he all right?” “He’s fine, Fujimara-san.” If Kiku hadn't said anything, Toshi didn’t feel it necessary to tell her that her son had performed yubizume a second time. “We’ve come to see Yuzo.” He stood aside, gesturing to Tokuma. “This is Yuzo’s uncle. He’s been very worried.” “I will get him for you.” She disappeared and returned a few moments later with Yuzo behind her. The young man appeared, watching Toshi suspiciously. However, his eyes lit up when he saw his uncle and he came right over. “Uncle Tokuma.” He bowed.

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Tokuma sniffled and his eyes misted over. “Nephew.” He bowed to the younger man. “My dear

Yuzo.” He reached out and pulled Yuzo into an embrace.

When they pulled apart Yuzo’s face fell, his large eyes clouded with what appeared shame. “I’m

sorry, Uncle. I never meant to cause you this worry. Forgive me.”

Tokuma reached out, lightly grasping his nephew’s shoulders. “All is forgiven.”

“Yuzo,” Toshi said, “Kiku wishes you to return to him.” He looked at Kiku’s mother. “I’m taking

Yuzo with me.”

She nodded. “I know. Kiku told me. Please tell him I want to see him.”

Toshi bowed. “I will.” He made sure the door was closed snugly behind them before speaking

again. “It’s safe now to go back,” he said as he led Yuzo and his uncle down the steps.

“What do you mean – safe? You don’t mean he…” Yuzo’s voice trembled.

Toshi nodded. “He made his apology to Suzuki.”

“Oh no! Please. I need to see him. Is he all right?”

Toshi’s heart squeezed. “He’ll be fine. Better when he sees you.” He led them out to the taxi idling

at the curb and helped the elderly man into the backseat. He slid into the front seat and sighed as he pulled the door closed. Never had he thought he’d see the day when he felt sorry for a yak. Well, a former yak. *** Yuzo sat between his uncle and John in the backseat with his hands in his lap. Even though Toshi wasn’t psychic like John, he sensed the young man’s fear and distress. “I assure you, Kiku will be

fine,” he said.

Yuzo looked up. His full bottom lips trembled and tears shone in his large eyes. “Please, don’t

arrest him. He did nothing wrong. He was protecting me. I swear it.” Yuzo turned to his uncle in

the back seat. “Uncle Toku, you know I’m telling the truth, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do.” The elderly man took Yuzo’s hand and squeezed it. “He’ll be all right, Yuzo. I

promise.”

To Toshi’s surprise, Yuzo closed his eyes and fell against his uncle, curling up against him like a

small child. Tokuma’s eyes misted over and one shaky hand passed over Yuzo’s hair.

A sharp pang of grief stabbed Toshi at the sight.

He sighed. It wouldn’t hurt to let Yuzo rest a few minutes before grilling him.

“Yuzo,” he said softly after a little while.

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The young man sat up, still pressing close to his uncle. No wonder he’d run to Kiku. Emotionally he was so young. “Yes?” “Tell me what happened and I’ll do my best to prevent charges.” Toshi already knew he was going to be bending the law in some capacity, just as he’d been forced to do in the Ronin Killer case. Some unknown John Doe from the police morgue was taking the blame for the serial killings committed by a force that could never be captured. Yuzo hesitated. “Please, swear you won’t tell anyone else.” Toshi wondered if Yuzo referred to the cop from OCCU, although it hardly mattered. In the interest of preventing Yuzo and the other men at the Temple of the White Tiger from getting murdered, “Joe” and anyone else on Suzuki’s trail would have to go without the information they sought, at least where Yuzo was concerned. He nodded. “You have my word.” “You can believe him, Yuzo,” Tokuma said from the back seat. “Genjin-san is a man of honor.” Yuzo’s large eyes churned with emotions. His cheeks reddened and he seemed to avoid eye contact. “I didn’t understand what I was getting into when I started riding with the bosozoku. When Suzuki seemed to favor me, I thought it was a really good thing. When I finally did understand, it seemed to be too late to get away. I felt like Suzuki owned me for life.” “Is that why you went to the Temple of the White Tiger?” Yuzo nodded. “Yes. I’d been there with Taro, several times.” A dreamy look stole into his eyes. “Kiku seemed to be such a kind person, so compassionate. I…didn’t want to involve him…but I didn’t know where else to go. I knew that he’d been yakuza and thought maybe he could protect me.” He fell silent and looked out the window. “I didn’t expect us to fall in love.” “When Taro finally found me, he threatened to kill Kiku unless Kiku apologized to him. I begged Kiku not to maim himself, but Kiku pulled out the knife to do it. I became angry and threatened to leave him if he did that. I was so stupid. I threatened to go to an undercover cop and tell him whatever he wanted. That’s why Kiku made me hide at his mother’s.” Yuzo was quiet a moment. “Inspector, please don’t arrest Kiku. He did nothing wrong. It’s my fault. I’m guilty.” Toshi’s heart thumped. “What are you guilty of in this instance, Yuzo?” The young man’s lower lip trembled. He blinked several times as more emotions seemed to pass through his eyes. “I just didn’t want him to do yubizume again.” 140

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Toshi nodded. “I understand.” He sighed. There was nothing to charge Fujimara with. Kidnapping, perhaps, but an action taken to save a man’s life? He couldn’t arrest the man for that. As for Yuzo, no doubt he had a wealth of information that could help bring Suzuki down, but some hornet’s nests were better left alone. Unfortunately, he’d have to let Tsugawa continue his half-assed methods of investigation on his own. “I assure you, once Kiku leaves the hospital, you’re both free to go home.” Yuzo’s relief was palpable. “Thank you, Genjin-san,” he said softly. “Thank you.” *** “Mr. Holmes, I must apologize to you again.” John looked at Kikuchiya where they sat side by side on the bench outside the emergency room. Natsuka stood close by while they all waited for Toshi. “No need to apologize. Maybe I shouldn’t have attacked you so quickly. It was the sword. Bad experience not long ago.” His eye fell on the bandage around Fujimara’s hand. Damn, that must hurt like hell. You wouldn’t have known judging from the man’s calm expression. “I would have done the same. Our intuitive powers don’t always work so quickly.” John chuckled. “True. Anyway, I’m glad you’re all right.” “When did you discover your gift, Mr. Holmes?” John sighed. “If you can call it that.” “I do.” “Shortly after I got discharged from service. I was in the Gulf. A bomb went off in front of us, and buddy of mine got burned in a jeep while I was thrown. I wanted to save him, but couldn’t get close.” “I know. I saw it.” John whipped his gaze up. “When you rubbed my shoulder?” Fujimara nodded. “I’m sorry about that. About what happened to you, I mean.” He turned fully to John. “I’ve been this way most of my life. It started really when I was nine. I tried to run from it, to desensitize myself for years. What better way than to be a criminal? It didn’t work. I couldn’t run from what I am.” He chuckled. “It followed me.” John sighed. “Yeah, it does that.” He looked up. “I guess being a White Tiger, or whatever it is, helps?” “Yes. When you’re sensitive in that way, you really only can be of service to others. Easing 141

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suffering is the only path you can take, yes?” John’s heartbeat rose slightly. The man understood. “Yes.” Silence fell between them. At the other man’s pained expression, John reached out and clasped Fujimara’s shoulder. A small jolt went into his hand. An image came. Fujimara leaving a building. A shot rang out. A woman screamed and fell. Fujimara turned, saw Suzuki, gun smoking, disappear into the building… Kiku jerked back, away from John’s hand. “No, Mr. Holmes.”

John’s gaze locked with his. The eyes staring back at him showed understanding.

He watched Kiku’s eyes dart in the direction of Koji who sat quietly on his other side.

“Forget what you just saw in my soul, Mr. Holmes. Koji is an innocent. They all are. Everyone

needs to feel that someone is protecting them, right?”

Kiku’s urgency simmered right through John, as if he were still touching him. “Mr. Holmes, an image is still not flesh and blood and cannot be proven real. Do you understand?” The worry in Kiku's eyes conveyed just how badly he needed John to forget the impression he'd just received. Kiku hadn't only been protecting Yuzo. His whole hotel setup seemed on some level a safe house for the young men around him. If John forced Kiku to work with the cops against Suzuki, he risked all those lives. His heart raced and he thought of Toshi, remembering Toshi's guilt at having to use a John Doe's corpse to take the blame for the Ronin Killings. His visions could hardly guarantee a conviction, in any case. He would just have to pretend that he knew nothing about the shooting. John cleared his throat. "Yes." A taxi pulled up to the curb. John’s gaze locked immediately onto the man he loved through the

passenger front window.

Never had he been happier to see anyone in his life.

The back door opened and Yuzo sprang out. The young man bounded over to the bench and knelt

down. Tears shone in his large eyes and John immediately felt Yuzo’s guilt and anguish.

“Kiku, please forgive me.” Yuzo buried his face in Kiku’s lap.

Kiku’s hand came out and rested on Yuzo’s hair. “There’s nothing to forgive. Nothing. I love you.

Come, let’s go home.” ***

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“Toshiro-san, I cannot thank you enough.”

Toshi watched the elderly man’s eyes mist over as he helped Imuro into the car. Seeing him with

Yuzo had made his heart squeeze. How many times had Musashi been so happy to see Toshi the

way Imuro had his nephew? More than Toshi could ever count.

“You are more than welcome, Imuro-san.”

John was in the front seat with Natsuka, but Toshi wished John were in the backseat with him. All

he really wanted was to be alone in his apartment with John. Naked.

Toshi remained silent the entire ride back to Imoru’s apartment building. Now that this mystery had

been solved, Toshi was left alone with his own mystery. And the one person who could give him

answers was sitting next to him.

A short while later, Natsuka pulled up to the curb in front of Tokuma’s building. Toshi got out,

assisted Tokuma from the car, and led him up the front walk to the glass doors.

At the entrance, Tokuma turned to him. The elderly man’s eyes were still glowing with relief. He

bowed low to Toshi. “I’ll never be able to repay you for what you’ve done, Toshiro-san,” he said

when he’d straightened. “I feel like you’ve given me my life back.”

Toshi bowed to him. “There is no need for repayment, Imoru-san. I was honored to help you.”

Tokuma nodded. “You are truly like your uncle. However, if there is ever any way I can be of

service, please…”

Toshi’s stomach jumped. Here was his chance to know the truth.

“Imoru-san.”

Tokuma turned to him.

“There is…one thing.”

“What is it? Anything.”

“Could you…do you know why…my uncle kept you a secret all this time?” Toshi gestured toward

him. “I mean, of course, I knew you existed. You gave my uncle that beautiful Noh kimono. But

other than that, he never told me anything.”

Tokuma’s eyes misted over and a look of pain clouded his refined features. He nodded. “Yes, I do

know.” He gestured to a small garden that bordered the front walk of the building. At the edge of

the raked gravel and bonsai garden was a bench. “Please sit and I’ll tell you everything.”

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN Tokyo, 1984 Tokuma’s head was still spinning, and had been the entire cab ride from his sister and brother-in law’s house to his apartment. Never had he experienced anything like this, like seeing his infant nephew for the first time. Those large dark eyes had gazed up at him with innocence and trust and Tokuma had been unable to deny the immediate bond he had with the child. It only made Tokuma’s soul burn with shame, deep shame at the way he’d treated Musashi for the last six years. Oh dear! He wished he could take back every word of anger he’d said to Musashi since his lover had said he needed to move out, back to his brother’s home. Tokuma winced over every time he’d thrown an admirer from the theater into Musashi’s face, trying to frighten Musashi and make him jealous whether Tokuma had actually slept with the person or not. There was only one word for how he had behaved towards the man he loved. Monstrous. The cab pulled up to the curb in front of Tokuma’s building. Tokuma had asked Musashi to meet him here. Now Tokuma understood how fortunate he’d been every time Musashi had agreed to meet him and had shown up. Musashi would have been perfectly in his rights never to spend another moment in his lover’s presence. Tokuma’s heart raced the entire way up to his apartment. Slowly he opened the door. What would he find? Exhilaration at Musashi’s presence and then the shame that would flood him at the sight of the man he’d tormented for six years? Or the heart-rending disappointment at Musashi’s absence along with the knowledge he’d finally gotten the abandonment he well deserved? Tokuma held his breath as he stepped in. The foyer seemed a long dark tunnel today, yet he couldn’t keep from rushing to the end to see… Musashi. He was there, sitting on the living room sofa. He rose when their gazes met. Tokuma couldn’t help the smile that stretched his face in spite of his revelation. “Musashi! You’re here.” Musashi smiled, though the smile did not reach his sad eyes. “Of course I’m here. Why wouldn’t I be here?” Tokuma rushed over to him and grabbed him into a hug. “Because I’ve been monstrous with you. I’ve treated you so horribly. I’m ashamed.” To his joy, he felt Musashi’s arms close around him. Musashi didn’t say anything, but when they finally pulled apart, his brow was furrowed. “I don’t 144

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understand? Didn’t you see your new nephew?” Tokuma grasped Musashi’s hands and tugged him back down to the sofa. He told his lover about Yuzo and about what he’d seen. “I was so wrong to be angry with you, Musashi. You must have felt how I feel when you first saw Toshi.” Musashi nodded and his eyes misted over. Musashi had aged a great deal in the last six years. His hair was thinning and his jaw sagged, but to Tokuma, Musashi was still the handsome soldier who’d pulled him into a cave during combat, who’d risked his life to save Tokuma. “Musashi, I know now, you were blackmailed, trapped in the most horrible way. And all I did was to make your suffering greater. Can you ever forgive me?” A tear rolled onto Musashi’s cheek. He nodded. “Of course, Toku.” Toku felt tears sting his own eyes. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Musashi’s forehead. He felt the healing between them, but also saw that some damage was irreversible. For several years now Tokuma had seen that Musashi’s will to live was weakening a great deal. He resolved to make what time they had left as sweet as possible. *** Tokyo, present day Imoru fell silent from his narrative. He’d begun with Musashi saving his life during the war, telling the story of their love, up to that moment of apology. Toshi’s heart pounded. He stared down at his hands, unable to look the elderly man in the face. His breath came in short bursts as if he’d been running, the way it did when shock mixed with the force of long-unanswered questions now falling into place. His father’s resentment toward Musashi. Musashi’s crying fits and bouts with depression. The way his uncle had always encouraged Toshi to search for the truth in life yet was unable to tell him the truth of his own at the same time… Tokuma remained silent, but his shoulders quaked and he covered his face with his hand. Toshi realized Tokuma was sobbing. He put a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder. Tokuma raised his face from his hands. “Forgive me, Toshiro-san. I have always been selfish. That was what put so much strain on our relationship.” Toshi felt a flash of anger. “No, Imuro-san, my father’s wishes put a strain on both of you. It was unfair.” “You’re very kind. So much like Musashi. No matter what your father said or did, I was wrong to 145

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act that way. So wrong. Musashi was my great love.” He sniffled, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to dab at his nose. “Even after we reconciled, we were never able to spend all the time together we wished. I’m afraid the damage had been done. As time passed, Musashi’s emotional distress worsened and he had to resign from the museum. He spent most of his time at home. I barely saw him. But we loved each other and we had nearly a whole lifetime together.” Tokuma turned to Toshi. “You must know one thing, Toshiro-san. It’s very important. Musashi never regretted moving back to his brother’s home. He often said you were the light of his heart and he could never have sacrificed a moment with you. I understand why.” Toshi bowed his head, overcome with emotion. “Thank you, Imoru-san.”

A few silent moments passed. Toshi listened to the cars passing on the street beyond the garden. He

didn’t want to keep John and Natsuka waiting like this, but found it difficult to get up from the

bench.

“Did I answer your question completely, Toshiro-san?” Tokuma’s voice cut through the silence.

Toshi nodded. “Hai. Thank you very much.”

Tokuma reached out and patted Toshi’s shoulder.

“You’re very welcome.” Slowly he rose.

Toshi stood up quickly, ready to assist Tokuma should he need it. He walked the elderly man back

to the front door.

Tokuma turned to him again. “Toshiro-san, your uncle and I did not fulfill our duty in the way that

our families and our society would have wanted, but we had each other. Truthfully, I don’t regret

our choices for a moment. And neither did Musashi.”

He smiled at Toshi and tugged at the heavy front door.

Toshi reached out and pulled it open for him.

With another small bow, Tokuma disappeared inside and Toshi let the door close.

*** Natsuka pulled up in front of Toshi’s building. His heart ached. This had probably been the last case they would work on together. John Holmes turned to Natsuka. “Thank you for everything.” His Japanese was halting but Natsuka understood. The American held out his hand. Natsuka didn’t want to accept the gesture, but of course, he did. “You’re welcome.”

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He released Holmes hand and Toshi’s gaijin got out of the car. Natsuka turned to Toshi who now leaned down into the driver’s seat window. His friend’s eyes were sad. Natsuka tensed. Toshi reached out his hand. “Thank you, Natsuka, as always.”

Natsuka accepted his handshake. “You’re welcome, my friend. Anytime.” He squeezed Toshi’s

hand and released it. “Perhaps you and John Holmes will come to dinner at my house.”

Before you leave, he thought silently.

Toshi bowed his head. “Yes, I’d like that.”

Natsuka smiled, though he didn’t feel like smiling. Not at all. “Go on, Toshi-san, get some rest.”

Toshi hesitated. Their unspoken words hung between them. He glanced at Natsuka and Natsuka

saw a mist over his friend’s eyes. The look surprised him. But since Toshi had met John Holmes, he was different. Very different. “See you soon, Natsuka.”

Natsuka bowed his head and then put the car into reverse. He had to get out away before Toshi-san

saw him get emotional. Toshi had enough to worry about.

*** As soon as they had slipped off their shoes Toshi walked slowly through the living room and sank onto the couch, his hands in his lap. John followed and sat down beside him. Toshi had been silent since they’d left Tokuma’s building. Of course, John felt Toshi’s shock, the way that emotion infused his lover’s silence. Toshi’s gaze rested on his uncle’s photograph and he sighed, his shoulders slumped over. John waited quietly. Finally, after what seemed a long time, Toshi turned to John. Toshi’s eyes were pained and sad. He looked like a guilty dog, sitting with its tail between its legs. “Tokuma explained to me the whole story behind my uncle’s silence.” John nodded. He reached out and put his hand on Toshi’s shoulder. “I figured it was something like that.” Toshi sighed, his chest rising and falling heavily. “My uncle and Tokuma lived together for a long time. My father threatened my uncle that if he didn’t move into the cottage behind the house, he’d cut him off from me.” John stared at Toshi. “Jesus, Toshi, that’s horrible.” 147

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Toshi leaned back, sagged against the cushions. He turned and looked at John, his expression mournful. “Tokuma was angry with him for a long time. That explains why Musashi was so depressed when he moved in behind the house.” He shook his head. “All that time he was so sad to be away from Tokuma. Tokuma took care of him after the war. They were deeply in love.” He fell silent and sighed again. He reached up to John’s hand and squeezed it. John felt Toshi’s desperation, as if holding onto his lover could somehow absorb the pain of such tragedy. “They were able to make up and they stayed together,” Toshi went on after another moment, “but it must have been hard.” He looked at John again. “It’s different here, you know? No one would have frowned on them for having sex, but living together instead of marrying and producing families, that was wrong.” He sighed again. John cleared his throat. Now was perhaps the time to broach what he’d considered as a possible solution. “Would it still be wrong? Today, I mean?” Toshi brushed his thumb on John’s skin. “Perhaps it would be more feasible. I’ve met a few couples. Not many, but they seem to make it.” Toshi gazed at John. Alone. They were here alone. Problems surrounded them. Toshi still needed to confront his parents. He missed his uncle horribly and now had to process the shock of what had really happened to the man. But right now, all there was was him and John, together. Toshi pressed his lips to John’s. Mmm, that softness was the most comforting delicious softness in the world. Toshi closed his eyes, pressed closer, not wanting to end the kiss— Ring! Toshi jumped back, heart pounding. He looked at John. His lover chuckled.

“Better get that.”

With a nod, Toshi picked up the phone, aware of his other hand still in John’s, their fingers laced

together. Toshi held the receiver to his ear.

“Moshi moshi.”

“Toshiro. Hello.”

His father’s voice made Toshi's heart quake.

“Father.” He suddenly remembered what his father had done to Musashi, threatening him with

losing his nephew because he loved Tokuma. The anger that burned in Toshi gave him more

courage. “Father, I have—

“Toshiro, your mother and I are downstairs. Will you buzz us in?”

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Holy shit.” Toshi raked a hand through his hair and paced to the foyer where the button to open

the downstairs door was. He pressed it then whipped around. “I can’t believe this! We’ve not even

been here five minutes!”

John stood at the end of the foyer. His blue gaze radiated sympathy. “I’m here for you. If that

helps.”

Toshi walked up to him. Without thinking, his hands shot out and grasped John’s shoulders. “It

helps a lot.” His heart raced and he felt sweat break out in his armpits. “Please, whatever my father

says, don’t leave?”

“I promise.”

John reached out and pulled Toshi into an embrace. Toshi exhaled and rested against John. A few

dreadful moments of silence passed. Then a knock at the door.

Toshi gasped and pulled away. He padded to the door, pulled in a deep breath and opened it.

“The glare” met him immediately, radiated from where his father stood in the doorway. Behind his

father, Toshi saw his mother, quiet as usual. Both his parents wore dark suits of mourning.

“When did you get home?”

Toshi cleared his throat against the sudden dryness. This was his father’s customary greeting.

Never hello. Always a question of some sort.

“Five minutes before you called. Come in.”

Toshi stood aside and his parents entered quietly, slipping off their shoes. When they were ready,

Toshi let them through the foyer into the living. He saw John and knew by the frozen silence

behind him that his father had spotted John as well.

“Father, I’d like to introduce you to John Holmes. He worked with me on the past two cases.”

To Toshi’s relief, John smiled pleasantly and bowed. “Pleased to meet you, Sir.”

Toshi saw uncertainty mixed with “the glare” but his father returned the bow wordlessly.

“And this is my mother, Otsu Genjin.”

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John bowed to her as well. Toshi looked at his mother. Her pretty face was etched with an expression as if she’d just watched someone fall face down on the sidewalk and didn’t know what to do about it. But she bowed, straightening quickly. “Come and have a seat.” Toshi gestured to the seating area. “Toshiro, I would like to speak with you alone.” Mazao Genjin’s eyes darted to John meaningfully

then back to Toshi.

“Mazao. Please. Let us just talk.”

Toshi looked at his mother. Had he heard correctly? She nodded to him, still wearing that

distressed look.

Mazao glared at her. “Very well.”

Toshi led them to the sitting area. Thankfully, his father sat in the end chair and John took the other

end chair. Toshi perched on the couch, with his mother between him and his father.

“Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you, Toshiro. I just want to clear this matter of your marriage.” Surprisingly, his father

spoke in English.

Toshi gripped the sofa and drew in a deep breath. “Father, I…released Keiko from our

engagement.”

“You did what?” His father glared right at him and sat bolt upright.

Toshi felt momentarily intimidated, but then he thought of Musashi again, of the way his uncle

used to cry alone in the cottage when he didn’t know Toshi could hear him. Now Toshi knew why Musashi had been so sad. “I released Keiko from our engagement. She doesn’t want the marriage and neither do I. We’ve never wanted it.” Mazao Genjin’s face reddened. Anger slipped through his eyes followed by an obvious inner battle for control. “It’s not about what you want, Toshiro. It’s about what is right.”

Toshi glanced at John. His lover looked back at him with a look that emboldened him, made him

remember what he had to lose if he caved in again, of what Musashi had lost.

“Toshi, what is it you want?” Toshi’s mother spoke softly. There was no judgment or anger in her

voice.

Toshi studied her face while his heart thundered in his chest. A few moments were what he’d

needed to see the guilt that clouded her eyes. He glanced at his father then quickly back at his

mother. This would be easier while looking into her eyes, not his.

“I want to live with John.” The words made a lump in his throat and he swallowed hard to clear it.

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Silence followed his statement. Toshi kept his eyes on his mother and he saw her gaze dart to his

father quickly then back.

“I’m sorry, Father. I’ve tried to do what you want, but I can’t. It’s not my way to…to marry and

keep someone on the side. Please, try to understand. Don’t do to me what you did to my uncle.”

That last sentence was out before Toshi could stop himself.

His father remained silent, but his mouth worked and Toshi could practically hear the angry words

he wanted to say.

Toshi looked over at John. Just to look at him—

“Toshiro, you don’t understand—”

“Mazao!”

Toshi whipped around at the desperation in his mother’s voice.

She’d leaned over and grasped her husband’s arm. “Please, Mazao, whatever you want to say,

don’t say it!”

She spoke in English and Toshi stared at her, feeling his own mouth gape open. He knew she spoke

English but had never heard her speak like this. And she was defending him!

His father tried to shake her arm off but her manicured hands pressed harder into his jacket sleeve.

“Mazao, it’s bad enough what we did to Musashi. But this is our son! Our precious son. If you

don’t let him be he’ll run away to America. Don’t you see?”

“Otsu.” Toshi’s father turned his glare on her, but her eyes continued to plead and her hands

gripped his jacket.

Toshi stared at his parents. Every nerve ending in his body shuddered. Never before had he seen

them like this. He watched his father’s eyes widen. Mazao Genjin opened his mouth and then

closed it. He sat back, his head down and remained silent.

Toshi’s mother released him and put her face in her hands. Her small frame shook with sobs.

“Mom.” Without thinking, Toshi moved closer and embraced her.

She fell against him, her face still buried in her hands. “Musashi, please forgive me,” he heard her

say between sobs.

From the corner of his eye, Toshi saw a white tissue being held out. He looked up. John.

“Here,” John quietly.

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Toshi gave a quick nod. “Thank you.” He took the tissue and pressed it into his mother’s hand.

As if he’d pressed a button, she sat up and wiped her eyes. “Toshi, I…I’m sorry. Please forgive me.

We had no right to hurt Musashi that way. We…wanted what was best for you. I…don’t want to

lose you, my son.”

Behind her, Toshi’s father still sat, head bowed, quiet as a stone.

Toshi bowed his head. He didn’t know what to say. He was going to the States with John. No, he

didn’t want to leave Natsuka, but this was to be the only way. After a lifetime with his family and

knowing what had happened…

“Please, Holmes-san.” His mother’s red eyes were pleading again, turned toward John. “I beg you.

Don’t take my son from me.”

Toshi looked at him. John’s blue eyes were fixed on Toshi’s mother.

“I promise, Mrs. Genjin. I won’t take him away from you.”

Toshi stared at John. What the hell?

“John?”

Holy shit. This is what he was getting for standing up to his parents? He was losing the man he

loved? He turned to his mother about to say, ”I have to go,” but the look in her eyes stopped him.

“Let’s discuss this more tomorrow.” Mazao Genjin’s voice cut through the moment. He didn’t sound angry or upset. Or even conciliatory. Just calm. Toshi swallowed past that damn lump in his throat. His father was right. He and his mother needed time to digest what Toshi had said and Toshi needed time to speak with John.

Toshi’s mother nodded. She dabbed at her eyes and followed her husband in rising to her feet.

Toshi knew there was more to say, but he was more than fine with waiting until tomorrow.

Speaking to John about that little promise of his took priority,

His mother turned to him. She reached up and cupped Toshi’s cheek. “I’m sorry, Toshi. So sorry.”

He returned her embrace. “It’s all right.” He just wished she hadn’t asked John to make such a

promise. As if his heart couldn’t get any heavier. And then it did. He released her and looked at his

father.

For one, Mazao Genjin wasn’t glaring at him. If Toshi wasn’t mistaken, his father’s eyes

radiated…shame. “Come over tomorrow, Toshiro. We’ll talk more.”

“Yes, Father.” He intended to bring John with him, that is, if they were still together.

He watched both his parents bow briefly to John and then walk toward the front door. Toshi

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followed behind them and waited while they slipped on their shoes. “See you tomorrow,” he said

softly.

They both nodded and then left.

“Toshi, are you all right?”

Toshi exhaled. The tension ran partially from his limbs. He turned.

John was standing at the end of the foyer, like before, blue eyes cautious.

Toshi stood by the door. He wanted nothing more than to throw himself into John’s arms. But he

couldn’t. Not now…

“Well, I was better before you made that promise to my mother.” His heart started to pump again. That same sense of tragedy engulfed him as it had with his uncle. Only now he couldn’t grasp John’s hand and find comfort. He raked a hand through his hair. “What the hell, John? Are you breaking up with me? Now? After all this? Are you fucking breaking up with me?” He heard his own hysteria as if a lid had been removed from him and the emotions could pour out.

He turned away, not wanting to see John’s face.

“Of course not, Toshi. Break up with you? For God’s sake, you’re my soul mate!”

Toshi froze. Had he heard right? He looked over his shoulder. “You’re not breaking up?”

John’s gaze had shifted from cautious to kind. “No. I only promised your mother I wouldn’t take

you away. I didn’t promise I’d break up with you. I only meant…well…I’ll live here. Then you

won’t have to leave. You can stay in your job. You have the best partner to work with a man could

want. Why give that up if you don’t have to?”

Toshi stared. His heart raced. “Come on, John, you have to be kidding.”

“Try me.” John sounded dead serious.

Toshi went up to him. He wanted to reach out and grasp John’s arms. Not just yet. “You

mean…you’d do that? You’d move here? Just like that?”

John reached for his hand. “Hell yes. I would if it means being with you.” He grinned. “I was

actually going to suggest it.”

Toshi’s mind swirled. “But…your family…how you can you—”

“They’ll be all right.” He sighed. “We’re not really all that close. And well, even so, I’d be there

for them if they needed me.” He squeezed Toshi’s hand. “I was planning to take you home for Christmas to meet the folks anyway.” Toshi still stared, although John’s handsome face was a blur because his head spun now. “I can’t 153

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believe it.” Strangely, he thought of Michael. Michael had never offered to move here in spite of almost four years together and his million declarations of love. “You’d really move here and live with me?” “Absolutely. When I saw what close friends you and Natsuka are, I couldn’t bear the thought of your having to leave him. I mean, you know how rare it is to find a friend like him? Rarer than teeth on a hen, like my dad always said.” “What about your agent? He’s a friend, right?”

“Dick’s a good friend, but it’s not the same as Natsuka is to you. And anyway, he’s got family in

Australia. I think I can convince him to come visit me here when I tell him my change of plans.”

Toshi shook his head. Now he reached out for John and pulled him close.

“I can’t believe it.” He felt like a broken record, but what else could you say when someone was so

willing to make such a huge change because they loved you?

John’s arms closed around him and Toshi pressed his face into the side of John’s neck, breathed in

his musky scent.

The feel of John’s skin against his lips touched off a spiral of arousal. It had been too long since

they’d last made love and Toshi was more than ready. He parted his lips, brushed the tip of his

tongue on the supple skin of John’s neck.

John immediately relaxed in his arms, pushed his body more firmly against Toshi’s.

“Mmm,” he murmured, “please do that again.”

Toshi smiled. “Do what again? You mean this?” He feathered the tip of his tongue in the same

spot, immediately feeling John’s cock grow hard, pressing against his through their pants.

“Yeah, that.” John lifted away from their embrace, his blue eyes already dusky, the lids heavy.

“How about we continue this in the shower?”

Toshi nodded. “Go heat up the water. I’ll be in in a minute.”

John grinned and stood up. His face was flushed and his erection already filled out the front of his

trousers.

“You got it.”

He turned and went into Toshi’s bedroom and after a few seconds, Toshi could hear the spray of

the shower.

Toshi knelt down before the picture of his uncle. He understood completely why Tokuma had knelt

in seiza before Musashi’s coffin.

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“I’m sorry, Uncle. I’m sorry you suffered because of my father. If I’d known…” He sighed.

There was truly no way to know what he would have done had he been told the truth. He could

only hope that he would have defended his uncle. He certainly would not have judged Musashi. It

was because of his uncle that Toshi felt able to honor his love for John.

Bowing deeply, Toshi straightened, gazing another few moments at Musashi’s photograph.

“Thank you, Uncle,” he murmured.

After another moment, Toshi rose and went into his bedroom, eager to feel John’s naked body

against his.

Toshi shucked off his clothes, tossed them off the bed and strode into the bathroom. The air was

humid and steamy and Toshi could make out the shape of John’s naked form behind the steamed-

up glass.

He opened the shower door and stepped in under the spray, right into John’s arms.

No sooner had their bodies touched then Toshi felt the telltale tightening in his balls. He pulled

John’s wet body tight against his and rubbed his hardening cock against John’s. Their cocks slid

together easily in the water. Toshi closed his eyes, closed his lips over John’s.

John melted against him. Toshi felt John’s hands roam over his back, sliding down, moving his

hips in languorous circles. At the same time, John’s velvety soft lips parted, his tongue, hot, moist,

met Toshi’s in a sensual dance.

Heat speared Toshi’s groin and his usual hunger for John overtook him. Gently, he backed John

against the wall, lips pressed to John’s, tongues mated, hot and moist. His cock was fully hard,

hungry to be buried deep inside John, possessing him like he always did.

Toshi remembered the Temple of the White Tiger.

Gathering his strength, Toshi pulled his mouth from John’s and ceased grinding his pelvis against

John’s. He looked down at his lover, taking in the sight of him. Water beaded off John’s skin,

darkened his blond hair. John’s eyelids half-covered his smoldering blue eyes and his lips were

parted.

Toshi lowered his lips to John’s again. He kissed John slowly, softly, this time, brushed his lips

across John’s so that he could appreciate their soft texture and taste, as well as the delicious

contrast between John’s velvety lips and rough stubble. With the tip of his tongue, Toshi lapped

gently at John’s lips, savored John’s unique flavor mingled with the warm water of the shower.

John groaned softly. As always, John's body softened under Toshi’s hands.

For as long as he could, Toshi kissed John, their lips pressed gently together, tongues caressing,

swirling against each other. Toshi breathed in John’s scent under the clean soap. His hands rested

on John’s shoulders, his fingertips registering the subtle shifts in the hard muscles under his

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fingertips. He could even hear John’s breathing, mixed with the constant patter of the shower spray. Gently, Toshi pulled his mouth from John’s and forced himself to back away. “I want to make it last,” he said. John smiled at him, though his chest heaved and his cock strained in an upward arc from his sculpted body. Toshi’s gaze rested on John’s broad chest, at the way the water plaster the soft golden chest hairs flat against the muscles. Water beaded off John’s reddish-brown nipples and Toshi almost changed his mind about waiting. Pulling in his control even more he rubbed soap on a washcloth and lathered it over his own body. John was watching him, still leaning against the tiled wall. John’s gaze roved up and down Toshi’s body as if Toshi were giving him a show. Toshi grinned and smoothed the washcloth over his chest and down his stomach. He wiped it around his cock, dipped lower to swirl the soapy cloth around his balls and then up over his hip and down his backside, making a show of sliding the washcloth up and down the crevice of his ass. John groaned. “Toshi, I’m the one who’s not sure I can wait.” Toshi chuckled and handed him the washcloth. “Do my back?” “Hell yes.” John accepted the soapy cloth and stepped away from the wall. John swirled the cloth around Toshi’s back, rubbing it in easy circles over Toshi’s back muscles, down his spine, teasing the cloth over his ass. Toshi caught his breath, his eyes closing against the pleasure. John slid the cloth between Toshi’s butt cheeks, lightly swiping it over his tight hole and then downward, teasing it over his balls. Suddenly, he heard the cloth hit the tile floor and felt John’s fingers where the washcloth had been. John’s exploring touch dappled over the underside of his balls back to his hole, one fingertip probing gently, pushing, softly at first, then stronger until his finger plunged deep inside. Toshi sucked in his breath, bracing his hands on the tile wall. John’s touch was gentle yet completely erotic, his finger pulsed in an out with increasing speed, and Toshi surrendered completely. John moved. The finger that had felt so good was gone, and suddenly John was behind Toshi, hands on Toshi’s hips and Toshi felt the head of John’s cock pressing against his tight hole. Without thinking, Toshi pushed his buttocks out, giving John access. John pushed, softly and then harder, several jabs with the head of his cock and then he was inside. Another push and he slid deep into Toshi’s tight channel. Toshi sucked in his breath at the delicious pleasure. He pushed against John’s cock, forcing him in deeper. The friction rubbed his insides, making his entire body tingle, vibrating with arousal and 156

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yet languid, more relaxed than he’d ever been.

John’s fingers tightened on Toshi’s hips and the rhythm of his cock increased. Toshi pushed harder

against the wall and moved his hips, squeezing his muscles around John’s cock. He heard John

groan and felt John’s cock twitch inside him.

Without thinking, Toshi brought one hand to his cock, pumping it rapidly, unable to hold back the

building pressure. Faster and faster his fist moved on his shaft, slick from the water until he

erupted, his seed spilling out, hitting the tiles and washing away in the shower.

Toshi stroked his cock until he was empty and then braced both hands on the wall again, squeezing

and moving against John, John’s cock pumping inside him. John groaned loudly and Toshi felt the

hot come filling him, and then John collapsing over his back, breathing heavily.

For what felt like a long time, they stayed like that, bodies joined, the shower spray beating on

them both. John’s cock finally softened and he slipped out. Toshi turned and pulled John into his

arms, lips pressing into the side of John’s neck. “So much for making it last,” John murmured. He

chuckled. “I’m at fault for that.”

Toshi lifted his face and kissed John’s lips. He still felt the delicious heat in his hole from John’s

having filled him.

“Don’t worry about it.”

They got out of the shower and dried off, climbing into bed even though it was still pretty early.

They were lying together quietly for several moments when John looked up at him. The expression

in his eyes was thoughtful.

“Hey I just thought of something.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you tell Natsuka yet that you’re going to stay here?”

“No. I was going to call him in the morning.” He frowned. “Why?”

“Well, now that you are staying, I can tell you. He was really afraid about your leaving. He hated

the thought of you going away. It depressed him.”

“Oh.” Toshi’s gut lurched. He almost asked John, ‘Did Natsuka tell you that?’ but didn’t. Of course

Natsuka didn’t tell him. One day, Toshi would get used to this eerie mind-reading stuff. Hell, he

didn’t mind, as long as it meant being with John.

Toshi smiled at him.

“You’re right. I’d better tell him now.”

He picked up the phone and dialed Natsuka’s number. Listening to the ring, Toshi felt a huge

weight lift from him. Leaving Natsuka would have really been painful. In the last four years,

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Natsuka had become almost as important to him as his uncle had been. Thanks to John’s love and

sensitivity, he didn’t have to leave such a dear friend.

Someone picked up on the third ring.

“Moshi moshi.” Toshi recognized the voice of Natsuka’s wife.

“Hello, Yamamoto-san.”

“Toshi?”

“Yes.”

“How nice to hear from you. Just a moment, I’ll call Natsuka.”

Toshi waited and then heard the muffled sounds of the phone being handed over.

“Moshi moshi.”

“Natsuka, hello.”

“Toshi-san. Yes, hello.” Natsuka still sounded sad, though glad to hear from him.

“Natsuka, I have something to tell you. Some news.”

“Oh,” Natsuka sounded hesitant. “It’s good news I hope.”

Toshi smiled and glanced at John who was smiling back at him.

“Yes. Very good news.”

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