Like Vines We Intertwined, 2/4
Like Vines We Intertwined, 2/4
She's taken money from her own stash to buy some decent beer for the dinner. The Sawadas' budget is fairly modest, but they have a guest tonight. The pair of them arrive home at 7:00 PM, Sakurai stopping at his own place to change into jeans and a t-shirt at Jun's insistence.
She's worn a light, flowery perfume, something Michiko-san had recommended on a shopping excursion a few days earlier. She wonders if it actually suits her. Where Jun is all long, graceful limbs, Sakurai Sho is a little more compact. A little shorter than Jun, shoulders narrower and full of tension. When he looks at her to say "Good evening, Sawada-san. Pleased to meet you," she notices that he has the prettiest eyes she's ever seen on a man before. A mouth full of slightly crooked, slightly large, slightly charming teeth hidden behind plump, dangerous lips. She thinks of all the things the neighborhood women say about him - how he was before compared to how he is now. Before Jun, it seems that Sakurai Sho was the prince of the street, the envy of all the wives with husbands who simply couldn't compare.
Keiko disappears into the kitchen to grab the trays of meat she's prepared, some that she's marinated according to Jun's detailed instructions. It's too bad they can't swap places. He's the better cook. When she returns, they've seated themselves at opposite ends of the living room tea table, Jun to the left and Sho to the right, leaving her to sit between them.
She distributes small plates and pours their beer while Jun takes charge of the grilling. Sakurai is full of "thank you"s for every small kindness, which endears him to Keiko immediately. She can see traces of who he might have been before while they eat. He eats well, maybe even too much, but it doesn't stop him and Jun from debating everything from European soccer teams to the current direction of the marketing department. He seems reasonably comfortable in Jun's presence since they both like to talk. Keiko's more a dutiful waitress than anything, refilling beers and giving Jun a slight poke with her finger when it's time to turn the meat over on the little grill they've got set up on the table.
Jun's phone rings, and she jumps a bit. This is his phone for Sawada Shin, not their personal handsets that are concealed in their rooms. He makes an apologetic face and gets up. "I'm sorry, I have to take this," he murmurs and heads upstairs, leaving her with Sakurai Sho, near empty plates of food, and very little to talk about.
She makes to clear their places, and he rises to help. "Ah, Sawada-san, won't you let me assist you?" His language is still rather polite despite how much beer he and Jun have gone through in so short a time. She doesn't dare leave him alone, so she accepts his offer. Jun still hasn't come down, and she finds her fingers accidentally grazing Sakurai's when he hands the plates over. She doesn't miss the flash of alarm in his eyes, and she interrupts before he gets a chance to apologize.
"I'm so glad you could come by, Sakurai-san. We've met up with most people in the neighborhood save for you. I hope you'll forgive this humble meal..."
His eyes widen. "No, no, Sawada-san, it was wonderful. Thank you for your kindness. I uh," he hesitates. Like Jun, he seems to choose all his words carefully. "It's been a while since I've done something like this."
I know, Keiko wants to say, thinking of the take-out bags she sees him bring into the house all the time or the delivery cars pulling up. "Well, Shin-kun is still getting to know everyone at the office, but he speaks highly of you and since you're right next door..."
"Right, of course."
She smiles at him, lets it linger a bit longer than she should. "Of course."
It's like the man doesn't know how to interact with women, odd since he was married. Maybe he'd managed it with one and others are a trickier proposition. They return to the living room, and he thanks her profusely again for pouring him another glass of beer.
Jun returns, looking a little suspicious. Since Jun is usually pretty laid back, she suspects he's already planting seeds for this master plan of his. "Who was it?" she asks, knowing it's what he wants to push the deception forward.
"Nobody important," he says breezily, and Sakurai takes a long, measured sip of his beer. Nobody important even though he just had to take the call? Perhaps Jun's actually started the deception, dropped hints to him at work, and Keiko's only learning about it now.
When the two men exhaust their points of contention regarding the Japanese national soccer team, Sakurai apologizes and says it's time for him to be going home. Jun walks him to the door, Keiko too. As he slips back into his shoes, Keiko tries not to look awkward as Jun puts a rather possessive arm around her middle, holding her tight so Sakurai can see. His hand rests on her hip in a way that he shouldn't do in front of neighbors. Already offering Sakurai a challenge. Keiko doesn't like feeling like a piece of meat on the living room grill, but she doesn't dare shrug him away.
Sakurai tells Jun he'll see him on Monday. He turns to her next, and his smile grows a fraction larger. It's a warm, genuine smile, unlike the practiced ones she and Jun employ so often. She's drawn in so easily, seeing the man the neighborhood used to love. She understands it, hates that he's still in so much pain. And you, Keiko, you'll just cause him more.
Jun shuts and locks the door. Together they calmly clear the remainder of the table, unplug the griller and bring it to the kitchen. She's just about to get the sink on, the task almost routine by now, when he stops her with a hand to her arm. She's facing the sink, facing the window that faces Sakurai's kitchen.
Jun moves, steps behind her and his fingers find her shoulders. She sighs in half-gratitude, half-pure enjoyment when he starts to massage without making a sound. She feels boneless, her head slumping forward as Jun's hands, his long, thin fingers knead into her too tense muscle, his thumbs finding particular points of stress and rubbing them away.
"Jun, why are you..."
"Ssh," he replies, close to her ear.
She should move away because he smells like a few beers too many. He smells like alpha male nonsense after that odd display in the genkan. But he smells like Jun, with his playful eyes and gorgeous body. They've played house for two weeks, and this is the most he's dared to touch her. She's wearing her pearls (maybe she wore them for Sakurai Sho) and his fingers slide up to her neck, fumbling with the catch. She highly doubts this is how life for Shin and Reiko would ever be.
She brings up her hand, pulls her hair up and out of the way. He manages to unclasp the necklace, pulling it away from her. He replaces the empty place on her neck with his mouth, and she stands quite still, hand still tangled up in her hair as he kisses the soft skin there. His lips linger, sending heat through her as he sucks a bit at the skin, just enough to not leave a mark. But just enough to say "here I am."
She's surprised by how quickly she's undone by him, shutting her eyes and gripping the edge of the sink when he moves his attention away from her neck. He pulls aside her blouse, her bra strap, baring her shoulder to him. The women in the neighborhood sometimes moan and complain about the lack of physicality from their husbands, their coldness. But Jun runs hot, pulling up even closer and wrapping his other arm around her, hugging her back against him while he continues to tease with his mouth and teeth against her shoulder, then back to her neck. The necklace is gripped in the hand clutched against her belly, and she knows this needs to stop.
"I should clean up," she mumbles, thinking of protocol. Of the million reasons why they shouldn't be doing this. Might one of those reasons be Sakurai Sho? When he releases her and steps back, she clears her throat and lets her hair fall back. "Was that your mistress on the phone earlier?"
He only chuckles and walks away, leaving her to struggle with how much she didn't want him to stop.
--
Work swallows up all of Jun's time during the next two weeks. Maybe he's started to believe his own lies, that he's a legitimate Higashimaru employee. He's a mere shadow at home, disappearing after breakfast and returning when Keiko's changing for bed. Some nights she finds herself leaving her bedroom door slightly ajar, wondering if he'll take it as an invitation. Because the rules say he shouldn't, and the rules say she shouldn't, but she spends half her days daydreaming about that mouth of his and the other places it might visit. They're professionals, aren't they? Maybe if they had sex the tension between them would ease, and they could focus on the job better.
The neighborhood senses trouble in paradise, and they're quick to pounce. "Shin-san sure keeps late hours. He's not working too hard, is he?" Michiko-san asks. You're not pushing him away, are you? A man like that and you a frigid bitch? What a shame.
One night when she's in the kitchen, her Sawada Reiko phone rings. It's Jun.
"I'm staying late again, I'm very sorry." He sounds like he means it, which implies he's in mixed company. "But would it be a bother if I had Sho-san pop in to check on you? I hate to leave you alone all the time, honey."
She crinkles her nose at 'honey' before fully understanding what Jun's doing. It doesn't matter what she says in reply because she's in an empty house. "What the hell are you playing at?"
"I'll eat while I'm out," he continues in his cheerful voice. "Please let Sho-san join you for dinner."
"The women in the neighborhood will see! They know you're not home, and they'll see him coming in!"
"I love you, too." Then he hangs up.
Keiko lets out a scream into one of the kitchen towels. He never gives her ideas or opinions a second thought. The neighborhood already suspects something is up. Shin's the cheater, not Reiko!
Despite herself, she lets the chicken bake while she hurries upstairs. She switches from slacks to a colorful knee-length skirt that shows off her legs. She pinches some color into her cheeks. She opts for eyeliner. Sawada Reiko, anything but frigid. When she gets back downstairs the kitchen timer dings and so does the doorbell.
She pulls the chicken out first and hurries to open the door, finding an apologetic Sakurai Sho waiting there. He takes her in a moment before steadying himself. "Ah, Sawada-san, your husband was rather insistent..."
I bet he was, Keiko thinks. She steps back, ushering him in and making a point to offer him one of Jun's pairs of slippers, the softest ones. If Sho realizes that he's not being offered guest slippers, he keeps it to himself. "It smells so good in here," he says, heading for the living room.
"Let's eat properly, shall we?" Keiko says defiantly, gesturing instead for Sho to move to the dining room. Keiko spends most evenings eating in here alone, Jun's plate covered to keep it warm whenever he comes back.
Sho mostly gets in the way, trying to help her in the kitchen and in setting the table. He fumbles around with the place settings, which simply makes her laugh, and is at a loss for how best to serve the chicken. "Please, take the larger thigh. It's too much for me," she insists. "Oh, one more thing."
She returns to the kitchen, finds the bottle of white wine she'd bought on a whim the other day, thinking of splitting it with Jun on the weekend. Instead she uncorks it and brings out two glasses for her and Sakurai. If Jun can have his fun, so will she.
"Oh, you're going to so much trouble for me," Sho mutters, clearly embarrassed, even though his mouth is watering at the meal she's prepared.
"It's lonely eating by yourself, isn't it?" she admits, and it's the truth. It was never a bother in her apartment on her own, but eating in this big house by herself has become depressing. She can only imagine how much more difficult it is for Sho. And as soon as she realizes what she's said, she blushes for real. "Forgive me, Sakurai-san, that was insensitive..."
He slices into his dinner. "You have nothing to apologize for."
He praises her non-stop while he eats. Jun's usually a little more restrained with his compliments, if only because he knows he can do better. Sho, however, must be completely incompetent in the kitchen if Keiko's rosemary chicken is top notch eating. But she happily accepts his praise, if only because she's received so little of it lately. From her "husband," from headquarters, from the women in the neighborhood.
When they finish, there's half the bottle left and she insists they move to the living room couch. She keeps the television off and pours for him. He seems a little uncomfortable since he's taken the right cushion and she's taken the middle instead of the left. Close quarters. "Now," Keiko says, setting the empty bottle on the table and getting comfortable with her legs curled up at her side. "I want to know everything about what you and Shin get up to at work."
"There's not much to tell," he says, taking a nervous sip. "We're salarymen, through and through."
Keiko wonders if Jun's really at work right now or if he's found someone to be with. Has he seduced one of the younger women at work? A cute little secretary fresh out of college? It wouldn't be hard to do with those eyes of his, that smile. If the wine is adding to her rather confusing feelings of jealousy, then let it. It will only help their real cause sitting right in front of her, the cause she's clearly working harder on at present. "Shin-kun doesn't talk to me about it much," she says shyly. "Actually, we haven't spoken much at all lately. Is there some tough project taking up all his attention?"
"Ah," Sakurai mumbles, "I...I think so..." Yep, Keiko confirms, Jun's definitely making sure that Sakurai knows what's going on.
She reaches forward, hand to his upper arm. There are strong muscles there, tightly wound and tense. "Oh, I'm so glad. I was thinking I'd done something wrong. If it's work, then I want him to do his best. I was so worried it was something I'd done or said..."
He seems frozen in place, has been since she's touched him and hasn't yet let go. His eyes are dark, his hair falling across his brow messily. She can tell what he's thinking. How can Shin do what he's doing? How can Shin do this to someone like Reiko? Just as Jun's planned all along.
"We're just very busy. I can't imagine Shin-kun finding any fault with you."
"Do you think so?" she says, looking down and finally letting him go. Even through his shirt, he'd been so hot to the touch. She can see little beads of perspiration on his face. She's too close, and he doesn't know what to do.
She changes the subject, away from her obviously cheating husband and her complete obliviousness. Instead she finds herself asking Sho about Igarashi Shinya, what it's like to live next to the CEO. He rarely sees him, but that's only because Sho keeps to himself, Keiko knows. The talk turns to the neighborhood, to the block party in a few weeks, and of course to the company soccer team.
"Shin's been trying to get you to join up, hasn't he?" she inquires. "What position do you play?"
She lets him ramble on - too busy to play, getting old and can't keep up (oh, don't be silly, she cries with another pat to his sleeve), other things to occupy his time. The hands on the clock move more than she even realizes.
When the wine is gone she takes their glasses to the kitchen. When she comes back, Sho looks uncomfortable. "I can leave if you wish. Shin-kun thought you'd be lonely and told me to stay until he came home, but I think that's up to you..."
"He's so sweet, thinking of me like that," she says, lie burning like acid. Twist the knife, Keiko. "You're welcome to stay as long as you like, Sakurai-san. It's lovely to have company. You should come again when my husband's busy."
Sho visibly winces. "Ah, maybe I should go though, it's getting late..."
Together they hear the key turn in the lock. Jun's home.
Keiko moves to the genkan, Sho at her heels. When she sees Jun, she wonders if he could be any more blatant. His hair's mussed, and there's obvious lipstick on his collar. Wow. Subtle. She beams at the sight of him. "Welcome home!"
She can just sense Sho behind her, his eyes probably burning a hole through Jun. Jun shifts his suit jacket, covering up his collar so he can lean forward and kiss her on the cheek. "I thought you'd be in bed by now. Sho-kun, you're a life saver. Thanks for looking after her for me. I've been so neglectful."
Sho's not a confrontational person because he lets Jun's behavior slide, at least in front of her. "We're neighbors, aren't we? I'm happy to visit. Especially if Reiko-san's cooking."
"That good, huh?" Jun says, slipping out of his shoes. Keiko knows he's already noticed the slippers on Sakurai's feet. She doesn't care. "Well I'm exhausted..."
Sho makes his excuses, unable to look at either of them as he waves goodbye and Jun shuts the door. As soon as Sho's gone, he raises an eyebrow at her. "My slippers?"
She shrugs. "You weren't home."
"Cute." He goes without slippers entirely, entering the house and tossing his briefcase on the couch. "I'll just have a shower tonight."
Keiko cleans up, her stomach knotted and twisted with all the lies. She genuinely likes Sakurai Sho. Unlike Jun, whose real self comes out to play only when it suits him, Sho wears his heart on his sleeve. He's gentle and kind, and in another world, he'd be the perfect escape from a rough day on the squad. Having him to come home to...
She rolls her eyes. She's played him false from the beginning. Who is she kidding? Once everything's clean, she heads upstairs and takes her own shower. Once in her nightgown, she moves to the other bathroom, finding the clump of Jun's clothes deposited on the floor. He's usually not this rude, and she diligently picks them up, sighing at the too obvious lipstick on the stark white dress shirt. She brings everything down to the laundry room, heading upstairs to find his door closed. Seems he's not in the mood for a recap of the night's activities.
But when she turns on the lamp on her bedside table, ready to do a bit of reading before bed, she's startled to find him already in the bed, comfortably settled under the sheets without a shirt. She prays he's not naked in her bed. "Jun!" she cries, jumping back.
"Looks like you did a good job tonight," he says. The shower has washed away Sawada Shin, the glasses are gone, and Matsumoto Jun's reemerged.
She thinks about the lipstick. "Who is she?"
He grins. "I didn't fuck her if that's what you're all jumpy about."
She scowls at his crudeness. "Who is she?"
He rolls over onto his back, raising his arms up and settling his hands behind his head. She's desperate to look anywhere but at his strong arms, all the places she wants to taste. The memory of that night in the kitchen comes roaring back, how easily she could have let him take her right there and then. He's never dared to enter her bedroom before, but here he is.
"She's convenient for the story," he explains. "Just a girl from the mail room. Again, we didn't have sex. Just had a little fun at a bar. I'm not in the business of taking advantage of drunk twenty year olds."
"She's twenty?!"
He laughs. "You really are jealous, aren't you? I don't understand it, you've got Sho-kun eating out of your hand like a trained dog already..."
She stomps her feet childishly. "That's different!"
Jun gasps theatrically. "You like him!"
"So what?"
Jun's smile turns bitter. "I just thought you liked me more."
Oh no, not his precious ego. She pushes the covers down, moves to sit cross-legged on the bed. "Maybe I do like you, against my better judgment. If anyone's jealous, Matsumoto Jun, it's you."
This piques his interest. He takes one hand away from the back of his head, rests it on her knee. She wonders which of them will cave in first. "I won't sleep with them," he vows. "I'll do whatever it takes to let Sho-kun think I am, though."
"You can sleep with them," she finds herself saying, even as she finds it difficult to look away from his eyes, the way they're raking up and down her body. She suddenly wants them only on her. "You think I mind?"
"I think you do. I think you would."
"What about Sho-kun? You want me to pursue that, don't you?" she asks. "It would be hypocritical of me to sleep with him and force you to stay...celibate."
"So you do want to sleep with him then?"
They're wronging him enough. She doesn't need to have sex with him. She doesn't. If she cares about him as much as she thinks she does, she shouldn't even consider taking things to that level. But if she cares about him as much as she thinks she does, how could she not want to?
"You come home with lipstick on your shirt, and suddenly you're in my bed." His fingers poke at her nightgown, pushing it up her thigh to expose more of her skin. "Why are you here?"
"The woman who leaves that bedroom door open every night knows exactly why I'm here." He moves, leaning on his elbows so he can look at her. "And maybe..."
"Maybe what?"
"Maybe coming home and finding him in my slippers did make me jealous."
She flushes at that. "We're not really married. We're nothing to each other."
He moves to sit up fully, kicking the covers away. He's only in a pair of blue boxer briefs, the kind she launders for him regularly. She's not used to seeing them on him though, hugging his hips and thighs. His erection's already pressing insistently against the fabric. "We're not nothing to each other," he says, kneeling so they're face to face. "You know this isn't nothing." He leans forward, clearly about to kiss her.
"We're not married, and I don't know your history," she manages to say. "You need to wear a condom."
He laughs. "Wow, okay. Keep talking dirty to me, wife."
She finds herself chuckling too, watching him get up and leave the room. She's almost afraid he's going to come back empty handed or not come back at all, but he's shaking a tiny packet back and forth when he does return. He sets it down on the nightstand and grins wickedly before tugging the little chain on the lamp, plunging the room into darkness, hiding his body from view.
"Like a real married couple now," he teases.
Then he's there, the mattress creaking as he finds her, pushing her down and onto her back, her legs spreading instinctively to let him lie between them. Unlike a married couple, he doesn't just get it over with and start snoring. He hitches up her nightgown, kissing her stomach before moving lower and kissing through the damp cotton of her panties, sending shivers through her. It's better than she's imagined, sitting in the house alone wondering what it would be like.
Before too long she's allowing him to kiss her properly, feeling him hard against her as his tongue slips greedily into her mouth. Perhaps, Keiko decides, he's wanted this as long as she has. If any thoughts remain for Sakurai Sho, they disappear when Jun slides her panties down, his fingers slipping inside her to stroke teasingly. Is he still wearing his wedding ring?
She soon finds the condom in her palm. "If you'd like to do the honors," he whispers. He guides her hand to his cock, and she bites down on her lip as she slowly slides it down his length.
By now she's mostly adjusted to being in the dark, gasping in delight when he finally enters her, watching the shadowy outline of him start to move. It's as fast and hard as she likes, as though he's seen into her mind and found her out. And who are they now, in Shin and Reiko's bed? She doubts Shin would be so rough, she doubts Reiko would want it so rough. Would Sawada Reiko lie there, letting her husband take his pleasure? Or would she instead wrap her legs around him, digging her heels into his ass to draw him in deeper?
She's almost grateful for the darkness, because if Jun could see her he'd know how badly she wants this. Regardless of the rules, regardless of the farce. Though she supposes her gasps, her cries are proof enough. His sweat and hers mingle, and she's not sure if it's "Reiko" or "Keiko" that he's moaning by her ear when he comes. His hand finds the top of her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as he kisses her sweetly enough to drive her mad.
"That was good," she admits to him, her legs like jelly as she stops clinging to him, letting them slide back to the mattress. But he doesn't move, not yet. He's still inside her, and she knows somehow that they fit too well, too perfectly for this to be an isolated incident. She strokes his cheek, lets him kiss her again. "That was really good."
"Well, thank you," he manages to get out before finally moving away. "I can sleep here. You can take my room. Nice clean sheets."
She snorts. "Done with me already?"
"Never."
She leaves anyhow, tucking him in with a giggle and a kiss to his forehead before slipping out of the room. Things are really complicated now, Keiko knows. She's just making things worse. But at the very least she now knows why the girls used to fight for him so fiercely.
--
It's a testament to their persistence and hardworking natures that they're able to file their reports and discuss the case with no problems. Two complete professionals. Headquarters seems to think they're right on track, though they're no closer to implicating Igarashi Shinya. Jun disappears for long work days, half of those evenings Sakurai Sho joins her for a quiet dinner and a few meaningless variety shows on television, and then Jun comes home smelling like a bar and another woman's perfume. She'd be jealous, except she has a sixth sense that he's not sleeping with them. He's just keeping up the ruse and coming home to her instead.
Coming home to her. Like they're really a couple or something absurd like that.
They don't have sex every night. Sometimes he's genuinely tired from work. Sometimes he's too drunk from the bar, falling into bed and snoring before she's even gotten him out of his work clothes. It seems like he's more interested in her on the nights she has Sho over for dinner.
Sho himself is as perfect and proper as ever. Even if he knows her husband is sleeping around behind her back, he keeps it to himself. Instead he listens to her dutifully, wants to know about her boring days. Keiko finds that her life's become the best of both worlds - the nurturing and care that Sakurai Sho provides, a shoulder to cry on when "Shin" is away so many nights in a row. And then there's the physicality and raw desire from Jun. It's as though Sawada Shin is actually cheating on his wife with some slut named Kitagawa Keiko. But if Michiko-san and the neighborhood gossips were relating the tale, Sawada Shin is a hard worker and his wife's fooling around with the man next door.
It's not fair to Sho. Not at all, and the more she has him over, the more she hears him sound more interested in joining the soccer team, the more she cares for him. The more she sometimes wonders if he can see from his master bedroom to theirs, if he knows that "Shin" is sleeping around and coming home for more. When Jun's inside her she can forget for a time, but when Sho arrives with a smile and a "Good evening, Reiko-san," she feels terrible. She cares for both of these men in different ways, and it scares her. The more she has Sho stop over, the harder it's going to be to betray him. Their lives are becoming too intertwined. They need to move along already.
That night she emerges from the bath in her towel, finds Jun on her bed in his work clothes. She stands in the doorway, frowning at him.
"You're wrinkling that."
"And you'll fix it," he says cheekily.
"We need to get into his house and plant the devices soon."
"He's joining the team," Jun tells her. "He's coming to practice. He says you encouraged him."
Keiko shrugs. "I'm very persistent." Keiko knows that Sho isn't joining the team because he likes to play. Sho's joining the team to keep an eye on Jun. There's so much Sho wants to say to her when they talk. She knows he wants to admit his suspicions. He just doesn't know how. That he's grown to care for her so quickly makes her guilt all the more painful.
"Come over here."
She obeys, watching him adjust on the bed until his head is at the edge. He directs her into place, putting her where he wants her. She stands at the edge of the bed, holding her towel as he pushes her legs apart, has her squat down a bit so she's straddling his face. His tongue finds her clit in seconds. She shuts her eyes, hands shaking on her towel. "Jun," she murmurs. Don't change the subject. We need to talk about Sho.
Instead his hands clamp around her trembling hips, holding her in place while he alternates between licking and sucking at her. It's so fucking good she can't stand it. She knows the light in the master bedroom across the way is on. Is Sho in there? Reading before bed? Is he thinking of her? All too quickly she finds herself imagining that it's Sho's face under that towel, eating her out and thanking her so kindly for the privilege. She gasps, Jun's tongue swirling mercilessly over her clit.
Which of them is it, Keiko, she asks herself. Which one of them do you really want? Sho, she thinks, clutching her towel and imagining Sho's hands on her breasts, those ridiculous, gorgeous lips of his pressed to her pulse. No, it's Jun, she thinks, imagining him fucking her on the kitchen floor, rudely interrupting when she's halfway through making his stupid bento for work. No, she thinks. It's her on her back with them both kneeling on either side of her, ready to come. It's Jun's cock in her left hand and Sho's in her right. It's both of them she wants, craves.
It's like fireworks when she comes, Jun's fingers digging so insistently into her hips and not letting her move. The towel falls and he wrenches it away from his face. She's completely exposed, bared to him, and he pushes her down onto the floor. The carpet burns against her back, and he can't be bothered to undress, merely unzipping his slacks. There's no time to force him off and say "get a condom, you pig," because he wants her so bad and she's so turned on she doesn't care. She can see where his mouth has been, she's all over his face, glistening, and he doesn't kiss her or wipe it away.
Then he's inside her, hard and urgent, wrenching her legs up off the rug and settling her ankles against his shoulders. She thinks he may split her in two, and it's so good that when she's feeling the rug burns on her back tomorrow it'll bring her back to this moment, to this feeling of floating.
This time she's not "Reiko" or "Keiko" but "mine," he says, "all mine," and there's a shock to her system when he hurriedly pulls out. He manages to catch half of it in his fist, in his fingers, but the rest finds her belly, painting her with his frantic need to possess her. She can hardly breathe, staring up at him as he eases her legs down. Jun's own face looks so surprised that she doubts he meant to say anything like "mine" at all. Maybe he can sense that she's torn between him and someone else, even if that's what Jun claims to want to push the case forward.
He hurries off to the bathroom, returns with a washcloth, rubs it over her stomach and then gently between her legs. He shakily picks her up and sets her onto the mattress, pulling the sheets over her. And then for the first time he stays in bed with her for the night.
In the morning Jun apologizes and says it's time for her to get inside Sakurai's house.
--
Somehow Sho has been persuaded to invite Jun and Keiko to dinner. It's twenty minutes before she's due to walk next door when Jun calls and says he's not coming. "But the women in the neighborhood..."
"What, do they have cameras pointed at our house 24/7? Go over there, and don't you leave until you can confirm the view from the second floor."
And he hangs up on her, as he usually does. It's infuriating. Any couple would reschedule, but she has to go alone. If anyone's watching her when she leaves the house promptly at 7:00 and walks to his door, they've got gossip fuel for weeks. When Sho opens the door, he looks confused.
"Where's Shin-kun?" Keiko tries not to smile at the cute little apron he's wearing that's a few sizes small. It had probably been his wife's.
"He can't make it," she says in frustration. "I'm so sorry you've gone to all this trouble."
Then she smells something burning, and Sho panics. She stumbles into the house, a near mirror copy of her own interior but with more books and considerably more clutter. She hurries to the kitchen and gets an oven mitt. It's darker and crispier but it seems as though Sho's tried to replicate her rosemary chicken. He bumbles around behind her.
"Ah, I never know what I'm doing."
"We can salvage this. I'll take home whatever's burnt for my husband." That'll teach him, she thinks bitterly, but Sho still seems mortified. Well, she's definitely in the house now and not going anywhere for a while.
While they eat in the dining room, it's more awkward than it is at her home. Sho's even found a pair of mismatched candles for the table, and the room takes on a more romantic air now that it's just the two of them. Unlike dinners at her house where Sho visits under the pretext of doing a favor for Jun, Keiko can feel a change in the air. The earlier ease of their conversations, from her husband's job to the neighborhood to books they've read has vanished.
Sho backs up out of his chair awkwardly. "I bought some ice cream if you wanted dessert, Reiko-san. I'm afraid I don't know how to bake..."
She helps him carry the plates to the kitchen. She can see through to her own kitchen blinds. It's so bizarre looking from this side after so many weeks. "No, but thank you," she says, not wanting to embarrass Sho any further. Based on his cluttered, messy kitchen, she doubts he'd even be able to find an ice cream scoop. They put the extra chicken in the fridge and she finds take-out bags and plastic tubs of leftovers that should probably be thrown in the trash.
When she closes the refrigerator door, she turns to look at him. He's been watching her, if the way he quickly looks away is any indication. "I'm sorry for the disappointing meal."
"I'm not disappointed," she says firmly. Instead she steps forward, seemingly trapping him between herself and the kitchen island. He could easily step aside. He doesn't, his gaze firmly fixed on her. "Sakurai-san, do you have maid service?"
He definitely hadn't expected that question, his face confused. He even lets out a "Huh?"
"To come clean your house," she says, looking around and trying to take on the same snooty look Michiko-san is so skilled with. "Because I'm just about to start cleaning it myself."
Sho is horrified. "Reiko-san, no...oh my gosh...is it really that awful?"
She chuckles, linking her arm through his, feeling him freeze up all the more. "Give me the grand tour, Sho-san."
Together they walk through the house arm in arm, and he gradually loosens up, grows accustomed to her rather unnecessary closeness. His living room is dominated by a rather large TV, though his furniture set clashes with it. They move upstairs, and he gestures to a closed door that she knows is his bedroom. "The master bedroom." One of the other two bedrooms is completely empty save for some boxes that designate it as a lazy storage room, the second has a mattress and boxspring, no sheets, only made up for guests. And Sho never has guests.
It's a rather sad little tour, but she asks about some of the art on the walls, and he hints that he didn't pick any of it out. They pass the second bathroom. He moves away from her and flicks the lights on. It smells almost unnaturally clean, like bleach, very recently used. Of all the rooms, he's gone to the effort here of making it accommodating for his guests. Even the toilet seat is down, and he's folded the toilet paper into a neat little triangle.
"I suppose if you'll excuse me then?" Keiko asks, and Sho nods politely, heading downstairs and leaving the bathroom to her. She shuts the door and starts to look around.
It's a clear, unobstructed view into Igarashi's house, everything she and Jun need. They can mount the camera just outside the window glass, and they can put the audio bugs close by to pick up any sounds within 15 yards. Enough to cover that half of Igarashi's home entirely. She takes her phone from her purse, snaps a dozen photos of the room and what they can accomplish. Then she flushes the toilet and runs the sink, feeling awful for Sho, who has put a small bar of soap on the dish that's clearly imprinted with the name of whatever hotel he'd last visited. It's stale and has no scent.
He gets to his feet when she comes back downstairs, hands awkwardly shoved in his pockets. "I'm sorry there wasn't much to see."
"I was hoping," Keiko says, "I was hoping to pay my respects..."
Sho's eyes widen in understanding. Cruelty heaped on cruelty, but he nods and leads her to a small alcove just beyond the living room. Here she kneels down and Sho does too before the small altar. There's a picture of the dead woman there, smiling out at her. Unlike the rest of the house, this area's regularly dusted and tended to and it breaks her heart again and again.
"Ah, her name was Umeko," Sho explains, his fingers moving to the altar to linger on a chocolate bar that's been left. He smiles. "Her favorite."
Keiko shuts her eyes, brings her hands together and prays genuinely. Sho must think she's just being polite. Sho has no idea that she's begging this woman, this long dead woman with the gentle smile, to forgive her for what she plans to do. Umeko-san, I'm so sorry, Keiko prays.
Umeko-san, I have to take him from you.
When she gets home, she tosses her phone to Jun, lets him look at the photos of Sho's bathroom. He seems to sense that she wishes to be alone, and she hears the guest bedroom door close firmly.
Part Three
She's taken money from her own stash to buy some decent beer for the dinner. The Sawadas' budget is fairly modest, but they have a guest tonight. The pair of them arrive home at 7:00 PM, Sakurai stopping at his own place to change into jeans and a t-shirt at Jun's insistence.
She's worn a light, flowery perfume, something Michiko-san had recommended on a shopping excursion a few days earlier. She wonders if it actually suits her. Where Jun is all long, graceful limbs, Sakurai Sho is a little more compact. A little shorter than Jun, shoulders narrower and full of tension. When he looks at her to say "Good evening, Sawada-san. Pleased to meet you," she notices that he has the prettiest eyes she's ever seen on a man before. A mouth full of slightly crooked, slightly large, slightly charming teeth hidden behind plump, dangerous lips. She thinks of all the things the neighborhood women say about him - how he was before compared to how he is now. Before Jun, it seems that Sakurai Sho was the prince of the street, the envy of all the wives with husbands who simply couldn't compare.
Keiko disappears into the kitchen to grab the trays of meat she's prepared, some that she's marinated according to Jun's detailed instructions. It's too bad they can't swap places. He's the better cook. When she returns, they've seated themselves at opposite ends of the living room tea table, Jun to the left and Sho to the right, leaving her to sit between them.
She distributes small plates and pours their beer while Jun takes charge of the grilling. Sakurai is full of "thank you"s for every small kindness, which endears him to Keiko immediately. She can see traces of who he might have been before while they eat. He eats well, maybe even too much, but it doesn't stop him and Jun from debating everything from European soccer teams to the current direction of the marketing department. He seems reasonably comfortable in Jun's presence since they both like to talk. Keiko's more a dutiful waitress than anything, refilling beers and giving Jun a slight poke with her finger when it's time to turn the meat over on the little grill they've got set up on the table.
Jun's phone rings, and she jumps a bit. This is his phone for Sawada Shin, not their personal handsets that are concealed in their rooms. He makes an apologetic face and gets up. "I'm sorry, I have to take this," he murmurs and heads upstairs, leaving her with Sakurai Sho, near empty plates of food, and very little to talk about.
She makes to clear their places, and he rises to help. "Ah, Sawada-san, won't you let me assist you?" His language is still rather polite despite how much beer he and Jun have gone through in so short a time. She doesn't dare leave him alone, so she accepts his offer. Jun still hasn't come down, and she finds her fingers accidentally grazing Sakurai's when he hands the plates over. She doesn't miss the flash of alarm in his eyes, and she interrupts before he gets a chance to apologize.
"I'm so glad you could come by, Sakurai-san. We've met up with most people in the neighborhood save for you. I hope you'll forgive this humble meal..."
His eyes widen. "No, no, Sawada-san, it was wonderful. Thank you for your kindness. I uh," he hesitates. Like Jun, he seems to choose all his words carefully. "It's been a while since I've done something like this."
I know, Keiko wants to say, thinking of the take-out bags she sees him bring into the house all the time or the delivery cars pulling up. "Well, Shin-kun is still getting to know everyone at the office, but he speaks highly of you and since you're right next door..."
"Right, of course."
She smiles at him, lets it linger a bit longer than she should. "Of course."
It's like the man doesn't know how to interact with women, odd since he was married. Maybe he'd managed it with one and others are a trickier proposition. They return to the living room, and he thanks her profusely again for pouring him another glass of beer.
Jun returns, looking a little suspicious. Since Jun is usually pretty laid back, she suspects he's already planting seeds for this master plan of his. "Who was it?" she asks, knowing it's what he wants to push the deception forward.
"Nobody important," he says breezily, and Sakurai takes a long, measured sip of his beer. Nobody important even though he just had to take the call? Perhaps Jun's actually started the deception, dropped hints to him at work, and Keiko's only learning about it now.
When the two men exhaust their points of contention regarding the Japanese national soccer team, Sakurai apologizes and says it's time for him to be going home. Jun walks him to the door, Keiko too. As he slips back into his shoes, Keiko tries not to look awkward as Jun puts a rather possessive arm around her middle, holding her tight so Sakurai can see. His hand rests on her hip in a way that he shouldn't do in front of neighbors. Already offering Sakurai a challenge. Keiko doesn't like feeling like a piece of meat on the living room grill, but she doesn't dare shrug him away.
Sakurai tells Jun he'll see him on Monday. He turns to her next, and his smile grows a fraction larger. It's a warm, genuine smile, unlike the practiced ones she and Jun employ so often. She's drawn in so easily, seeing the man the neighborhood used to love. She understands it, hates that he's still in so much pain. And you, Keiko, you'll just cause him more.
Jun shuts and locks the door. Together they calmly clear the remainder of the table, unplug the griller and bring it to the kitchen. She's just about to get the sink on, the task almost routine by now, when he stops her with a hand to her arm. She's facing the sink, facing the window that faces Sakurai's kitchen.
Jun moves, steps behind her and his fingers find her shoulders. She sighs in half-gratitude, half-pure enjoyment when he starts to massage without making a sound. She feels boneless, her head slumping forward as Jun's hands, his long, thin fingers knead into her too tense muscle, his thumbs finding particular points of stress and rubbing them away.
"Jun, why are you..."
"Ssh," he replies, close to her ear.
She should move away because he smells like a few beers too many. He smells like alpha male nonsense after that odd display in the genkan. But he smells like Jun, with his playful eyes and gorgeous body. They've played house for two weeks, and this is the most he's dared to touch her. She's wearing her pearls (maybe she wore them for Sakurai Sho) and his fingers slide up to her neck, fumbling with the catch. She highly doubts this is how life for Shin and Reiko would ever be.
She brings up her hand, pulls her hair up and out of the way. He manages to unclasp the necklace, pulling it away from her. He replaces the empty place on her neck with his mouth, and she stands quite still, hand still tangled up in her hair as he kisses the soft skin there. His lips linger, sending heat through her as he sucks a bit at the skin, just enough to not leave a mark. But just enough to say "here I am."
She's surprised by how quickly she's undone by him, shutting her eyes and gripping the edge of the sink when he moves his attention away from her neck. He pulls aside her blouse, her bra strap, baring her shoulder to him. The women in the neighborhood sometimes moan and complain about the lack of physicality from their husbands, their coldness. But Jun runs hot, pulling up even closer and wrapping his other arm around her, hugging her back against him while he continues to tease with his mouth and teeth against her shoulder, then back to her neck. The necklace is gripped in the hand clutched against her belly, and she knows this needs to stop.
"I should clean up," she mumbles, thinking of protocol. Of the million reasons why they shouldn't be doing this. Might one of those reasons be Sakurai Sho? When he releases her and steps back, she clears her throat and lets her hair fall back. "Was that your mistress on the phone earlier?"
He only chuckles and walks away, leaving her to struggle with how much she didn't want him to stop.
--
Work swallows up all of Jun's time during the next two weeks. Maybe he's started to believe his own lies, that he's a legitimate Higashimaru employee. He's a mere shadow at home, disappearing after breakfast and returning when Keiko's changing for bed. Some nights she finds herself leaving her bedroom door slightly ajar, wondering if he'll take it as an invitation. Because the rules say he shouldn't, and the rules say she shouldn't, but she spends half her days daydreaming about that mouth of his and the other places it might visit. They're professionals, aren't they? Maybe if they had sex the tension between them would ease, and they could focus on the job better.
The neighborhood senses trouble in paradise, and they're quick to pounce. "Shin-san sure keeps late hours. He's not working too hard, is he?" Michiko-san asks. You're not pushing him away, are you? A man like that and you a frigid bitch? What a shame.
One night when she's in the kitchen, her Sawada Reiko phone rings. It's Jun.
"I'm staying late again, I'm very sorry." He sounds like he means it, which implies he's in mixed company. "But would it be a bother if I had Sho-san pop in to check on you? I hate to leave you alone all the time, honey."
She crinkles her nose at 'honey' before fully understanding what Jun's doing. It doesn't matter what she says in reply because she's in an empty house. "What the hell are you playing at?"
"I'll eat while I'm out," he continues in his cheerful voice. "Please let Sho-san join you for dinner."
"The women in the neighborhood will see! They know you're not home, and they'll see him coming in!"
"I love you, too." Then he hangs up.
Keiko lets out a scream into one of the kitchen towels. He never gives her ideas or opinions a second thought. The neighborhood already suspects something is up. Shin's the cheater, not Reiko!
Despite herself, she lets the chicken bake while she hurries upstairs. She switches from slacks to a colorful knee-length skirt that shows off her legs. She pinches some color into her cheeks. She opts for eyeliner. Sawada Reiko, anything but frigid. When she gets back downstairs the kitchen timer dings and so does the doorbell.
She pulls the chicken out first and hurries to open the door, finding an apologetic Sakurai Sho waiting there. He takes her in a moment before steadying himself. "Ah, Sawada-san, your husband was rather insistent..."
I bet he was, Keiko thinks. She steps back, ushering him in and making a point to offer him one of Jun's pairs of slippers, the softest ones. If Sho realizes that he's not being offered guest slippers, he keeps it to himself. "It smells so good in here," he says, heading for the living room.
"Let's eat properly, shall we?" Keiko says defiantly, gesturing instead for Sho to move to the dining room. Keiko spends most evenings eating in here alone, Jun's plate covered to keep it warm whenever he comes back.
Sho mostly gets in the way, trying to help her in the kitchen and in setting the table. He fumbles around with the place settings, which simply makes her laugh, and is at a loss for how best to serve the chicken. "Please, take the larger thigh. It's too much for me," she insists. "Oh, one more thing."
She returns to the kitchen, finds the bottle of white wine she'd bought on a whim the other day, thinking of splitting it with Jun on the weekend. Instead she uncorks it and brings out two glasses for her and Sakurai. If Jun can have his fun, so will she.
"Oh, you're going to so much trouble for me," Sho mutters, clearly embarrassed, even though his mouth is watering at the meal she's prepared.
"It's lonely eating by yourself, isn't it?" she admits, and it's the truth. It was never a bother in her apartment on her own, but eating in this big house by herself has become depressing. She can only imagine how much more difficult it is for Sho. And as soon as she realizes what she's said, she blushes for real. "Forgive me, Sakurai-san, that was insensitive..."
He slices into his dinner. "You have nothing to apologize for."
He praises her non-stop while he eats. Jun's usually a little more restrained with his compliments, if only because he knows he can do better. Sho, however, must be completely incompetent in the kitchen if Keiko's rosemary chicken is top notch eating. But she happily accepts his praise, if only because she's received so little of it lately. From her "husband," from headquarters, from the women in the neighborhood.
When they finish, there's half the bottle left and she insists they move to the living room couch. She keeps the television off and pours for him. He seems a little uncomfortable since he's taken the right cushion and she's taken the middle instead of the left. Close quarters. "Now," Keiko says, setting the empty bottle on the table and getting comfortable with her legs curled up at her side. "I want to know everything about what you and Shin get up to at work."
"There's not much to tell," he says, taking a nervous sip. "We're salarymen, through and through."
Keiko wonders if Jun's really at work right now or if he's found someone to be with. Has he seduced one of the younger women at work? A cute little secretary fresh out of college? It wouldn't be hard to do with those eyes of his, that smile. If the wine is adding to her rather confusing feelings of jealousy, then let it. It will only help their real cause sitting right in front of her, the cause she's clearly working harder on at present. "Shin-kun doesn't talk to me about it much," she says shyly. "Actually, we haven't spoken much at all lately. Is there some tough project taking up all his attention?"
"Ah," Sakurai mumbles, "I...I think so..." Yep, Keiko confirms, Jun's definitely making sure that Sakurai knows what's going on.
She reaches forward, hand to his upper arm. There are strong muscles there, tightly wound and tense. "Oh, I'm so glad. I was thinking I'd done something wrong. If it's work, then I want him to do his best. I was so worried it was something I'd done or said..."
He seems frozen in place, has been since she's touched him and hasn't yet let go. His eyes are dark, his hair falling across his brow messily. She can tell what he's thinking. How can Shin do what he's doing? How can Shin do this to someone like Reiko? Just as Jun's planned all along.
"We're just very busy. I can't imagine Shin-kun finding any fault with you."
"Do you think so?" she says, looking down and finally letting him go. Even through his shirt, he'd been so hot to the touch. She can see little beads of perspiration on his face. She's too close, and he doesn't know what to do.
She changes the subject, away from her obviously cheating husband and her complete obliviousness. Instead she finds herself asking Sho about Igarashi Shinya, what it's like to live next to the CEO. He rarely sees him, but that's only because Sho keeps to himself, Keiko knows. The talk turns to the neighborhood, to the block party in a few weeks, and of course to the company soccer team.
"Shin's been trying to get you to join up, hasn't he?" she inquires. "What position do you play?"
She lets him ramble on - too busy to play, getting old and can't keep up (oh, don't be silly, she cries with another pat to his sleeve), other things to occupy his time. The hands on the clock move more than she even realizes.
When the wine is gone she takes their glasses to the kitchen. When she comes back, Sho looks uncomfortable. "I can leave if you wish. Shin-kun thought you'd be lonely and told me to stay until he came home, but I think that's up to you..."
"He's so sweet, thinking of me like that," she says, lie burning like acid. Twist the knife, Keiko. "You're welcome to stay as long as you like, Sakurai-san. It's lovely to have company. You should come again when my husband's busy."
Sho visibly winces. "Ah, maybe I should go though, it's getting late..."
Together they hear the key turn in the lock. Jun's home.
Keiko moves to the genkan, Sho at her heels. When she sees Jun, she wonders if he could be any more blatant. His hair's mussed, and there's obvious lipstick on his collar. Wow. Subtle. She beams at the sight of him. "Welcome home!"
She can just sense Sho behind her, his eyes probably burning a hole through Jun. Jun shifts his suit jacket, covering up his collar so he can lean forward and kiss her on the cheek. "I thought you'd be in bed by now. Sho-kun, you're a life saver. Thanks for looking after her for me. I've been so neglectful."
Sho's not a confrontational person because he lets Jun's behavior slide, at least in front of her. "We're neighbors, aren't we? I'm happy to visit. Especially if Reiko-san's cooking."
"That good, huh?" Jun says, slipping out of his shoes. Keiko knows he's already noticed the slippers on Sakurai's feet. She doesn't care. "Well I'm exhausted..."
Sho makes his excuses, unable to look at either of them as he waves goodbye and Jun shuts the door. As soon as Sho's gone, he raises an eyebrow at her. "My slippers?"
She shrugs. "You weren't home."
"Cute." He goes without slippers entirely, entering the house and tossing his briefcase on the couch. "I'll just have a shower tonight."
Keiko cleans up, her stomach knotted and twisted with all the lies. She genuinely likes Sakurai Sho. Unlike Jun, whose real self comes out to play only when it suits him, Sho wears his heart on his sleeve. He's gentle and kind, and in another world, he'd be the perfect escape from a rough day on the squad. Having him to come home to...
She rolls her eyes. She's played him false from the beginning. Who is she kidding? Once everything's clean, she heads upstairs and takes her own shower. Once in her nightgown, she moves to the other bathroom, finding the clump of Jun's clothes deposited on the floor. He's usually not this rude, and she diligently picks them up, sighing at the too obvious lipstick on the stark white dress shirt. She brings everything down to the laundry room, heading upstairs to find his door closed. Seems he's not in the mood for a recap of the night's activities.
But when she turns on the lamp on her bedside table, ready to do a bit of reading before bed, she's startled to find him already in the bed, comfortably settled under the sheets without a shirt. She prays he's not naked in her bed. "Jun!" she cries, jumping back.
"Looks like you did a good job tonight," he says. The shower has washed away Sawada Shin, the glasses are gone, and Matsumoto Jun's reemerged.
She thinks about the lipstick. "Who is she?"
He grins. "I didn't fuck her if that's what you're all jumpy about."
She scowls at his crudeness. "Who is she?"
He rolls over onto his back, raising his arms up and settling his hands behind his head. She's desperate to look anywhere but at his strong arms, all the places she wants to taste. The memory of that night in the kitchen comes roaring back, how easily she could have let him take her right there and then. He's never dared to enter her bedroom before, but here he is.
"She's convenient for the story," he explains. "Just a girl from the mail room. Again, we didn't have sex. Just had a little fun at a bar. I'm not in the business of taking advantage of drunk twenty year olds."
"She's twenty?!"
He laughs. "You really are jealous, aren't you? I don't understand it, you've got Sho-kun eating out of your hand like a trained dog already..."
She stomps her feet childishly. "That's different!"
Jun gasps theatrically. "You like him!"
"So what?"
Jun's smile turns bitter. "I just thought you liked me more."
Oh no, not his precious ego. She pushes the covers down, moves to sit cross-legged on the bed. "Maybe I do like you, against my better judgment. If anyone's jealous, Matsumoto Jun, it's you."
This piques his interest. He takes one hand away from the back of his head, rests it on her knee. She wonders which of them will cave in first. "I won't sleep with them," he vows. "I'll do whatever it takes to let Sho-kun think I am, though."
"You can sleep with them," she finds herself saying, even as she finds it difficult to look away from his eyes, the way they're raking up and down her body. She suddenly wants them only on her. "You think I mind?"
"I think you do. I think you would."
"What about Sho-kun? You want me to pursue that, don't you?" she asks. "It would be hypocritical of me to sleep with him and force you to stay...celibate."
"So you do want to sleep with him then?"
They're wronging him enough. She doesn't need to have sex with him. She doesn't. If she cares about him as much as she thinks she does, she shouldn't even consider taking things to that level. But if she cares about him as much as she thinks she does, how could she not want to?
"You come home with lipstick on your shirt, and suddenly you're in my bed." His fingers poke at her nightgown, pushing it up her thigh to expose more of her skin. "Why are you here?"
"The woman who leaves that bedroom door open every night knows exactly why I'm here." He moves, leaning on his elbows so he can look at her. "And maybe..."
"Maybe what?"
"Maybe coming home and finding him in my slippers did make me jealous."
She flushes at that. "We're not really married. We're nothing to each other."
He moves to sit up fully, kicking the covers away. He's only in a pair of blue boxer briefs, the kind she launders for him regularly. She's not used to seeing them on him though, hugging his hips and thighs. His erection's already pressing insistently against the fabric. "We're not nothing to each other," he says, kneeling so they're face to face. "You know this isn't nothing." He leans forward, clearly about to kiss her.
"We're not married, and I don't know your history," she manages to say. "You need to wear a condom."
He laughs. "Wow, okay. Keep talking dirty to me, wife."
She finds herself chuckling too, watching him get up and leave the room. She's almost afraid he's going to come back empty handed or not come back at all, but he's shaking a tiny packet back and forth when he does return. He sets it down on the nightstand and grins wickedly before tugging the little chain on the lamp, plunging the room into darkness, hiding his body from view.
"Like a real married couple now," he teases.
Then he's there, the mattress creaking as he finds her, pushing her down and onto her back, her legs spreading instinctively to let him lie between them. Unlike a married couple, he doesn't just get it over with and start snoring. He hitches up her nightgown, kissing her stomach before moving lower and kissing through the damp cotton of her panties, sending shivers through her. It's better than she's imagined, sitting in the house alone wondering what it would be like.
Before too long she's allowing him to kiss her properly, feeling him hard against her as his tongue slips greedily into her mouth. Perhaps, Keiko decides, he's wanted this as long as she has. If any thoughts remain for Sakurai Sho, they disappear when Jun slides her panties down, his fingers slipping inside her to stroke teasingly. Is he still wearing his wedding ring?
She soon finds the condom in her palm. "If you'd like to do the honors," he whispers. He guides her hand to his cock, and she bites down on her lip as she slowly slides it down his length.
By now she's mostly adjusted to being in the dark, gasping in delight when he finally enters her, watching the shadowy outline of him start to move. It's as fast and hard as she likes, as though he's seen into her mind and found her out. And who are they now, in Shin and Reiko's bed? She doubts Shin would be so rough, she doubts Reiko would want it so rough. Would Sawada Reiko lie there, letting her husband take his pleasure? Or would she instead wrap her legs around him, digging her heels into his ass to draw him in deeper?
She's almost grateful for the darkness, because if Jun could see her he'd know how badly she wants this. Regardless of the rules, regardless of the farce. Though she supposes her gasps, her cries are proof enough. His sweat and hers mingle, and she's not sure if it's "Reiko" or "Keiko" that he's moaning by her ear when he comes. His hand finds the top of her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as he kisses her sweetly enough to drive her mad.
"That was good," she admits to him, her legs like jelly as she stops clinging to him, letting them slide back to the mattress. But he doesn't move, not yet. He's still inside her, and she knows somehow that they fit too well, too perfectly for this to be an isolated incident. She strokes his cheek, lets him kiss her again. "That was really good."
"Well, thank you," he manages to get out before finally moving away. "I can sleep here. You can take my room. Nice clean sheets."
She snorts. "Done with me already?"
"Never."
She leaves anyhow, tucking him in with a giggle and a kiss to his forehead before slipping out of the room. Things are really complicated now, Keiko knows. She's just making things worse. But at the very least she now knows why the girls used to fight for him so fiercely.
--
It's a testament to their persistence and hardworking natures that they're able to file their reports and discuss the case with no problems. Two complete professionals. Headquarters seems to think they're right on track, though they're no closer to implicating Igarashi Shinya. Jun disappears for long work days, half of those evenings Sakurai Sho joins her for a quiet dinner and a few meaningless variety shows on television, and then Jun comes home smelling like a bar and another woman's perfume. She'd be jealous, except she has a sixth sense that he's not sleeping with them. He's just keeping up the ruse and coming home to her instead.
Coming home to her. Like they're really a couple or something absurd like that.
They don't have sex every night. Sometimes he's genuinely tired from work. Sometimes he's too drunk from the bar, falling into bed and snoring before she's even gotten him out of his work clothes. It seems like he's more interested in her on the nights she has Sho over for dinner.
Sho himself is as perfect and proper as ever. Even if he knows her husband is sleeping around behind her back, he keeps it to himself. Instead he listens to her dutifully, wants to know about her boring days. Keiko finds that her life's become the best of both worlds - the nurturing and care that Sakurai Sho provides, a shoulder to cry on when "Shin" is away so many nights in a row. And then there's the physicality and raw desire from Jun. It's as though Sawada Shin is actually cheating on his wife with some slut named Kitagawa Keiko. But if Michiko-san and the neighborhood gossips were relating the tale, Sawada Shin is a hard worker and his wife's fooling around with the man next door.
It's not fair to Sho. Not at all, and the more she has him over, the more she hears him sound more interested in joining the soccer team, the more she cares for him. The more she sometimes wonders if he can see from his master bedroom to theirs, if he knows that "Shin" is sleeping around and coming home for more. When Jun's inside her she can forget for a time, but when Sho arrives with a smile and a "Good evening, Reiko-san," she feels terrible. She cares for both of these men in different ways, and it scares her. The more she has Sho stop over, the harder it's going to be to betray him. Their lives are becoming too intertwined. They need to move along already.
That night she emerges from the bath in her towel, finds Jun on her bed in his work clothes. She stands in the doorway, frowning at him.
"You're wrinkling that."
"And you'll fix it," he says cheekily.
"We need to get into his house and plant the devices soon."
"He's joining the team," Jun tells her. "He's coming to practice. He says you encouraged him."
Keiko shrugs. "I'm very persistent." Keiko knows that Sho isn't joining the team because he likes to play. Sho's joining the team to keep an eye on Jun. There's so much Sho wants to say to her when they talk. She knows he wants to admit his suspicions. He just doesn't know how. That he's grown to care for her so quickly makes her guilt all the more painful.
"Come over here."
She obeys, watching him adjust on the bed until his head is at the edge. He directs her into place, putting her where he wants her. She stands at the edge of the bed, holding her towel as he pushes her legs apart, has her squat down a bit so she's straddling his face. His tongue finds her clit in seconds. She shuts her eyes, hands shaking on her towel. "Jun," she murmurs. Don't change the subject. We need to talk about Sho.
Instead his hands clamp around her trembling hips, holding her in place while he alternates between licking and sucking at her. It's so fucking good she can't stand it. She knows the light in the master bedroom across the way is on. Is Sho in there? Reading before bed? Is he thinking of her? All too quickly she finds herself imagining that it's Sho's face under that towel, eating her out and thanking her so kindly for the privilege. She gasps, Jun's tongue swirling mercilessly over her clit.
Which of them is it, Keiko, she asks herself. Which one of them do you really want? Sho, she thinks, clutching her towel and imagining Sho's hands on her breasts, those ridiculous, gorgeous lips of his pressed to her pulse. No, it's Jun, she thinks, imagining him fucking her on the kitchen floor, rudely interrupting when she's halfway through making his stupid bento for work. No, she thinks. It's her on her back with them both kneeling on either side of her, ready to come. It's Jun's cock in her left hand and Sho's in her right. It's both of them she wants, craves.
It's like fireworks when she comes, Jun's fingers digging so insistently into her hips and not letting her move. The towel falls and he wrenches it away from his face. She's completely exposed, bared to him, and he pushes her down onto the floor. The carpet burns against her back, and he can't be bothered to undress, merely unzipping his slacks. There's no time to force him off and say "get a condom, you pig," because he wants her so bad and she's so turned on she doesn't care. She can see where his mouth has been, she's all over his face, glistening, and he doesn't kiss her or wipe it away.
Then he's inside her, hard and urgent, wrenching her legs up off the rug and settling her ankles against his shoulders. She thinks he may split her in two, and it's so good that when she's feeling the rug burns on her back tomorrow it'll bring her back to this moment, to this feeling of floating.
This time she's not "Reiko" or "Keiko" but "mine," he says, "all mine," and there's a shock to her system when he hurriedly pulls out. He manages to catch half of it in his fist, in his fingers, but the rest finds her belly, painting her with his frantic need to possess her. She can hardly breathe, staring up at him as he eases her legs down. Jun's own face looks so surprised that she doubts he meant to say anything like "mine" at all. Maybe he can sense that she's torn between him and someone else, even if that's what Jun claims to want to push the case forward.
He hurries off to the bathroom, returns with a washcloth, rubs it over her stomach and then gently between her legs. He shakily picks her up and sets her onto the mattress, pulling the sheets over her. And then for the first time he stays in bed with her for the night.
In the morning Jun apologizes and says it's time for her to get inside Sakurai's house.
--
Somehow Sho has been persuaded to invite Jun and Keiko to dinner. It's twenty minutes before she's due to walk next door when Jun calls and says he's not coming. "But the women in the neighborhood..."
"What, do they have cameras pointed at our house 24/7? Go over there, and don't you leave until you can confirm the view from the second floor."
And he hangs up on her, as he usually does. It's infuriating. Any couple would reschedule, but she has to go alone. If anyone's watching her when she leaves the house promptly at 7:00 and walks to his door, they've got gossip fuel for weeks. When Sho opens the door, he looks confused.
"Where's Shin-kun?" Keiko tries not to smile at the cute little apron he's wearing that's a few sizes small. It had probably been his wife's.
"He can't make it," she says in frustration. "I'm so sorry you've gone to all this trouble."
Then she smells something burning, and Sho panics. She stumbles into the house, a near mirror copy of her own interior but with more books and considerably more clutter. She hurries to the kitchen and gets an oven mitt. It's darker and crispier but it seems as though Sho's tried to replicate her rosemary chicken. He bumbles around behind her.
"Ah, I never know what I'm doing."
"We can salvage this. I'll take home whatever's burnt for my husband." That'll teach him, she thinks bitterly, but Sho still seems mortified. Well, she's definitely in the house now and not going anywhere for a while.
While they eat in the dining room, it's more awkward than it is at her home. Sho's even found a pair of mismatched candles for the table, and the room takes on a more romantic air now that it's just the two of them. Unlike dinners at her house where Sho visits under the pretext of doing a favor for Jun, Keiko can feel a change in the air. The earlier ease of their conversations, from her husband's job to the neighborhood to books they've read has vanished.
Sho backs up out of his chair awkwardly. "I bought some ice cream if you wanted dessert, Reiko-san. I'm afraid I don't know how to bake..."
She helps him carry the plates to the kitchen. She can see through to her own kitchen blinds. It's so bizarre looking from this side after so many weeks. "No, but thank you," she says, not wanting to embarrass Sho any further. Based on his cluttered, messy kitchen, she doubts he'd even be able to find an ice cream scoop. They put the extra chicken in the fridge and she finds take-out bags and plastic tubs of leftovers that should probably be thrown in the trash.
When she closes the refrigerator door, she turns to look at him. He's been watching her, if the way he quickly looks away is any indication. "I'm sorry for the disappointing meal."
"I'm not disappointed," she says firmly. Instead she steps forward, seemingly trapping him between herself and the kitchen island. He could easily step aside. He doesn't, his gaze firmly fixed on her. "Sakurai-san, do you have maid service?"
He definitely hadn't expected that question, his face confused. He even lets out a "Huh?"
"To come clean your house," she says, looking around and trying to take on the same snooty look Michiko-san is so skilled with. "Because I'm just about to start cleaning it myself."
Sho is horrified. "Reiko-san, no...oh my gosh...is it really that awful?"
She chuckles, linking her arm through his, feeling him freeze up all the more. "Give me the grand tour, Sho-san."
Together they walk through the house arm in arm, and he gradually loosens up, grows accustomed to her rather unnecessary closeness. His living room is dominated by a rather large TV, though his furniture set clashes with it. They move upstairs, and he gestures to a closed door that she knows is his bedroom. "The master bedroom." One of the other two bedrooms is completely empty save for some boxes that designate it as a lazy storage room, the second has a mattress and boxspring, no sheets, only made up for guests. And Sho never has guests.
It's a rather sad little tour, but she asks about some of the art on the walls, and he hints that he didn't pick any of it out. They pass the second bathroom. He moves away from her and flicks the lights on. It smells almost unnaturally clean, like bleach, very recently used. Of all the rooms, he's gone to the effort here of making it accommodating for his guests. Even the toilet seat is down, and he's folded the toilet paper into a neat little triangle.
"I suppose if you'll excuse me then?" Keiko asks, and Sho nods politely, heading downstairs and leaving the bathroom to her. She shuts the door and starts to look around.
It's a clear, unobstructed view into Igarashi's house, everything she and Jun need. They can mount the camera just outside the window glass, and they can put the audio bugs close by to pick up any sounds within 15 yards. Enough to cover that half of Igarashi's home entirely. She takes her phone from her purse, snaps a dozen photos of the room and what they can accomplish. Then she flushes the toilet and runs the sink, feeling awful for Sho, who has put a small bar of soap on the dish that's clearly imprinted with the name of whatever hotel he'd last visited. It's stale and has no scent.
He gets to his feet when she comes back downstairs, hands awkwardly shoved in his pockets. "I'm sorry there wasn't much to see."
"I was hoping," Keiko says, "I was hoping to pay my respects..."
Sho's eyes widen in understanding. Cruelty heaped on cruelty, but he nods and leads her to a small alcove just beyond the living room. Here she kneels down and Sho does too before the small altar. There's a picture of the dead woman there, smiling out at her. Unlike the rest of the house, this area's regularly dusted and tended to and it breaks her heart again and again.
"Ah, her name was Umeko," Sho explains, his fingers moving to the altar to linger on a chocolate bar that's been left. He smiles. "Her favorite."
Keiko shuts her eyes, brings her hands together and prays genuinely. Sho must think she's just being polite. Sho has no idea that she's begging this woman, this long dead woman with the gentle smile, to forgive her for what she plans to do. Umeko-san, I'm so sorry, Keiko prays.
Umeko-san, I have to take him from you.
When she gets home, she tosses her phone to Jun, lets him look at the photos of Sho's bathroom. He seems to sense that she wishes to be alone, and she hears the guest bedroom door close firmly.
Part Three