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From: r_rivers@cryogen.com (Rivers)
Subject: {Rivers} "A Journey to the East, Part 7" (MF Mf Japan Horticulture) 7/7!
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This story contains graphic descriptions of sex and should not be read by
anyone under 18, or anyone offended by such
material. Blah Blah Blah...
The story is divided into seven parts, of which this is the seventh,
describing a week-long stay in Japan.
The author does not mind constructive comments. I suppose: "This is a
piece of crap!" is constructive on some level, but
what I have in mind would be more along the lines of technical pointers
or anything that might help future offerings
attain a higher level of craft. Of course compliments are always
welcome.
I would like to thank those who have given me their words of support and
or constructive criticism during the writing of this story.
Richard Rivers
4/98
A JOURNEY TO THE EAST
Day 7, Saturday:
The sound of her voice fought against the
heavy night air; blocked, dead and un-
resonant, as if no one had heard it. The
last tolling of the midnight bell faded
slowly away, the sound dissipating to
silence as it receded from the present,
the irrevocable moment when clapper and
bell had came together to send outward
waves of sound now dwindling, as the
present, once clear and sharp to the mind
slowly fades, blurring into distant
memory.
"I have to go back now," Satomi
whispered. "If I am not back in the
house soon my parents will find out about
it."
"But Satomi..." I grasped her hand, not
wanting her to go, as if by letting her
get away I would allow her to carry off a
part of myself. "I've got to talk to
you...about tonight. I leave tomorrow."
Her hand, already sliding out of mine,
faltered. She paused for a moment, then
turning her wrist let the tips of her
fingers slide softly across the palm of
my hand as she broke the contact between
us. I felt a resurgence of arousal:
those delicate fingers had innocently
explored me not long before, and although
I knew what I had to say-that I was sorry
for what happened, that I shouldn't have
let it happen at all-I still longed for
her gentle touch, the silky yet firm curl
of her fingers around me.
"You can walk with me as far as the house
then," she said softly.
Even though we walked slowly, I felt
hurried. The house was not far away and
every step closer we took made me feel
more uneasy, as if I shouldn't let her
get away from me, having done to me what
she had done, knowing what she knew.
"Satomi, listen." I had to force the
words out. "I am sorry about what
happened. It shouldn't have. I mean I
shouldn't have let it happen. I'm
supposed to be the adult here...but I let
things get out of control. It's just
that...well...Megumi...and everything
that was happening, everything that we
saw..." My voice faded. I felt even
more embarrassed than before: I hadn't
said what I wanted, or at least not the
way I wanted it to come out.
Satomi walked on a few paced beside me,
looking straight ahead. "What is it you
want anyway Mr Sato? I don't think you
know yourself." Her soft voice held a
bitter edge.
I dropped my head, looking at my feet
swishing out from under my robe. "You're
right," I said finally, "but I think we
should talk about this. I mean, are you
OK about it, about what happened? Do you
regret it?"
"Ah!" She stopped and turned to me.
"You are so obvious Mr Sato! It isn't me
at all you are worrying about: it is
yourself. You are scared that I will
tell someone, my father, Megumi...anyone.
You just want to make sure that I don't
do anything to expose you, isn't that
it?" She turned away.
She was right, I realized, and I stood
beside her with no reply.
"Well, you don't have to worry about
anything. I will never tell my father
about this. He will never be able to use
it against you. Is that good enough for
you? Have I lessened the weight of that
guilt you seem to carry around with you
all the time?" She whirled around and
made off down the path much faster than
before.
I tried to keep pace with her. We were
practically running. "Satomi, please..."
I tried to rally some self defense but
the words would not come. I knew morally
my position was empty, bankrupt.
"Mr Sato," she stopped abruptly to face
me again: "You have to stop doing things
you regret all the time." She paused.
"Or maybe it is that you need to stop
regretting the things you do."
She turned and left me standing alone in
the night.
***
Mr Ogawa summoned me in the mid morning.
As I knocked on the door I realized I had
not seen him in this office since the day
of our first meeting. Answering, Megumi
greeted me with a fleeting smile. She
ushered me to a chair while taking up a
position standing over Mr Ogawa's left
shoulder. She seemed nervous, her
motions lacking their usual grace; her
hands absently smoothed the front of her
robe as we waited for Mr Ogawa to speak.
He sat idly leafing through a sheaf of
papers in a manila folder, hardly
acknowledging either of us as we waited
for him to finish. At length he looked
up.
"Thank you for coming Mr Sato," he said,
his eyes still buried in his papers. I
recognized some of the things Megumi and
I had sent over to him the night before.
"I would also like to thank you for a
fine job," he continued. "Your work on
the project was most satisfactory. I
will certainly give a favorable report to
your employers back in America." He
finally looked up, glancing at me then
quickly over his shoulder at Megumi, as
if becoming aware of her presence for the
first time. He snapped the folder shut
and lay it on the desk before him, giving
it a light tap with his fingers. "I
think all that remains is for me to
compensate you for your work and wish you
a pleasant journey home." He drew an
envelope from a drawer and slid it across
the desk towards me. "You will find a
considerable bonus included in this: for
work excellently performed." He smiled
and, clasping his hands together, leaned
back in his chair.
I was taken completely by surprise, so
much so that it took me a moment to
finally blurt out: "But Mr Ogawa, nothing
is finished yet! At least not completely!
I haven't compiled yet...the final
editing needs touching up. If you want
to actually use anything I've done I will
need several more hours, maybe half a
day, to clean things up for you."
He waited patiently for me to finish, as
if he knew what I would say and had
prepared his reply ahead of time. "That
won't be necessary," he said evenly.
"But...I don't think you understand."
His calm demeanor had me flustered.
"It's not finished," was all I could
think of to say at first. Then regaining
some composure: "Excuse me for saying
so, but I don't think you realize the
complexity of what remains to be done
here. I would be happy to finish it up
for you. I couldn't accept payment for
it until I did in fact."
He continued to look at me as if I hadn't
said anything. I glanced up at Megumi:
she had lowered her eyes to her hands
resting on the front of her thighs.
"Mr Sato," Mr Ogawa said quietly, "as I
have said, no further work on the project
will be needed. Thank you." The
finality of his tone indicated he had
finished and that he wished for me to
leave. He leaned forward, looking as if
he might get up.
"May I ask why," I asked more calmly. A
feeling of unexplainable dread rose in
me. I felt cornered. His tone of voice,
while still friendly, now had an edge to
it. "Is something wrong? Are you
displeased?"
He sighed. "No Mr Sato. I assure you,
your work was excellent: better than we
could have hoped for. It is just that
our plans have changed. You might say
that as of today the project is canceled.
I have paid you well after all. That's
business: accept the fact." He shrugged
a gesture so uncharacteristic for the
little that I knew of him that it made me
shiver involuntarily.
I felt an overwhelming sense of
disappointment, and of betrayal. He had
finally put me in my place in the most
definitive way: by showing me that even
my best efforts were worthless to him.
He had paid me off, leaving no doubt that
he considered the money I had worked so
hard for as a mere trifle, something he
could throw away on a worthless project,
and that I personally was expendable, my
feelings of no consequence to him. At
that moment I realized how much I had
craved his approval and spurred myself on
when he had withheld it.
I grew angry, as much at myself as with
him. "Forgive me Mr Ogawa," I said in as
even a tone as I could manage. "When I
first arrived here you chided me, as an
American, for being only conscious of
money and profit. I have to tell you now
that I feel extremely disappointed. I
consider what I do to have a certain
level of craft. I won't go so far as to
call it an art, but it is a skill, and a
highly personal one. I put a lot of
myself, my heart and soul, into the work
I did for you. I am proud of what I
accomplished, and to have you simply
throw it away is painful to me. I am
sorry." I pushed the envelope back
towards him. "You asked me to do a
certain job, for which you would pay me
an agreed amount. Well, as far as I am
concerned, the job isn't finished. I can
not accept payment for it." I started to
get up from my chair.
"Ok, ok, Mr Sato," he said, pressing his
palms together. He had a pained
expression on his face. "You are right,
of course," he continued more softly as I
let myself fall back into the chair.
"You are right to feel the way you do.
It is I who should apologize. I only
wanted to spare your feelings. This will
be more difficult." His eyes flitted
towards Megumi. "For all of us."
"Mr Sato," he took a deep breath, "I
assure you the project is finished in so
much as you have accomplished for me
everything I desired of you at the
outset. You see, in the climate I
operate in, I mean the business climate,
it is often not enough to simply move
forward with one's own ideas and projects
blindly, without regard for potential
competitors. In fact the competition is
everything. The markets are small, the
pool of useful, workable ideas even
smaller, so that much of what I do is
directed towards fending off others who
would have access to the same
opportunities as I have rather than to
actually moving forward with anything
productive. The waste is built into the
system because of all the
competitiveness. I often wish it weren't
so, but I alone am powerless to change
it." He turned his palms upward.
"Now, certain of my competitors have
launched projects which directly impact
plans of my own. These rivals, like
myself, are out to protect their own
interests by taking certain actions, and
I in turn have taken actions to thwart
them. In a word, what I am talking about
here, is spying. Industrial espionage is
I believe the term for it. My
competitors spy on me, Mr Sato, and I spy
on them as well; but as additional
protection I also engage in a bit of
counter espionage, or disinformation, if
you will."
"Without revealing too many details I can
tell you that my competitors have
attempted to infiltrate my organization
for quite some time. Eventually I
realized that the most effective way to
combat their attempts would be to allow
them to succeed, or at least think that
they had succeeded, so long as I could
tightly control the information they had
access to. The project you have worked
on is merely an effort to pass along some
misleading information to one of those
competitors."
"Your work has been passed along to a
certain courier who believes he has
access to my inner circle. All of the
many changes and contradictory
instructions I have given over the last
week were merely for show, to simulate
the appearance of a project in
development. The courier has to believe
he is getting raw information, from very
close to the source. Do you understand
what I am talking about?" He fixed me
with a pointed stare.
"Yes, I think so," I said slowly. I
found his explanation fascinating, to the
point where it momentarily overshadowed
my anger and disappointment at having
been used as a pawn in his scheme.
Then I spoke without thinking, knowing
the answer to my own question before the
words had even left my mouth: "But how
does the information get passed along, so
that it seems as if it had really been
stolen?"
He looked away, and for the first time I
saw him appear truly uncomfortable.
"Megumi handles that," he answered
softly. "To keep the ruse effective I do
not involve myself in that level of it.
She handles it. Personally."
There was a long uncomfortable silence,
and a horrible sinking feeling of
realization came over me. Megumi and her
mysterious lover: now I understood. I
tried to resist the urge to look over at
her but couldn't. I dreaded that she
might be looking back at me: I had put my
foot in my mouth so badly by blurting
what should have never been spoken. My
eyes made a roundabout trip across the
desk and up the far wall before finally
came to rest on her. She seemed not to
have moved a muscle during the entire
conversation. Her eyes remained fixed on
some indefinite point before her.
Mr Ogawa regained his composure and
continued: "Of course we have our own
sources to make certain the information
is getting across. Everything has its
checks and balances. To maintain the
guise of authenticity everything must be
approached with the utmost sincerity by
the individuals involved to minimize the
risk of discovery..."
He went on at some length about how he
had constructed the 'operation' involving
me but I had tuned him out. I felt sick.
Completely betrayed and upset by what I
he had told me I wanted nothing more than
to get as far away from the two of them
as I could. At last I took my leave of
them, although I hardly remember doing
so.
***
The day seemed to drag on endlessly. I
looked at my watch: 11:30; four more
hours before Mr Ogawa's driver would
arrive to take me back to Tokyo. My bags
were already packed and I sat alone in my
room fidgeting, not wanting to go out,
dreading that I might meet Megumi or Mr
Ogawa.
Sleeping with someone just to advance a
business interest: I suppose it happens
all the time, in all sorts of ways, I
thought, but Megumi? Why would she do
such a thing? I had begun to believe
that maybe I had come to some insights
about her over the past week, only to
have all my assumptions come crashing
down about me like a house of cards. How
sordid this all turned out to be, I
thought.
Mr Ogawa: had he demanded she do it? In
so many words, or directly? I didn't
believe him when he said he knew nothing
of how she did it. It couldn't be true,
and Satomi had already told me her father
knew all about the strangers who secretly
came into the house at night, that he
even had something to do with arranging
it all. Then again, perhaps Megumi had
volunteered. Maybe it was her idea in
the first place. I kept telling myself
to drop it, forget them, I was leaving
after all, but my mind always turned back
to the unsolvable riddle.
I looked at my watch again: 11:35.
***
The weather had grown cooler. A soft
breeze blew across the pond, rustling the
trees around me where I walked, well away
from the path. My western clothes,
unworn in a week, felt odd, rough and
confining on my body. When I couldn't
stand being cooped up in my room any
longer I had dressed and set off
stealthily on a walk with the slight hope
that I might come across Satomi somehow.
She was the only one I wanted to see
before I left, even at the risk of having
to face Megumi or Mr Ogawa again.
Something, either the magic of the place,
or as I began to think of it, its curse
always seemed to bring me face to face
with the person I least wanted to meet at
any particular moment: I stood stock
still, noticing Megumi striding
purposefully along the path at the edge
of the pond. She had seen me and was
making her way through the grove of trees
to where I waited.
"Mr Sato," she said upon reaching me.
"You are hiding I see." Then, glancing
away: "I cannot say I blame you."
"What do you want?" My words sounded
harsh: I had meant it simply as a
question, but I saw her flinch ever so
slightly at my tone of voice.
"I'm sorry," she said turning away.
"Nothing. To say good-bye perhaps, that
is all."
"No. Wait," I said hurriedly. "I mean
why are you here? What is it you wanted
to say?"
She drew herself up to her full height,
straightening. She appeared to regain
some of her customary poise. Her eyes
met mine and did not waver.
"I really did want to say farewell to you
Mr Sato. That is all. I have enjoyed
your company this past week and, whether
you know it or not, seeing you at work
has been an inspiration to me. I could
not simply let you walk away because of
what Mr Ogawa said this morning."
"But Megumi!" She had pricked the
surface of all the emotions boiling
within me. "You can't expect me to
accept that, can you? I mean, forgive me
for saying so, but I find the whole thing
so sordid, awful, repugnant in fact! I
don't know what to say, what to think
even! It's such a surprise; and it goes
against everything I believe in! To have
all my work thrown away like that, and
the way you did it!"
I had angered her. Her eyes narrowed and
I could feel the tension wash over her
then dissipate, like a wave breaking.
She waited a long time before speaking:
"Mr Sato," her voice was calm, deadly,
unnaturally calm. "You have no right to
judge me or anything that I do." A gust
of wind rustled the trees as she waited,
letting her words sink in.
"I thought we might become friends when
you first arrived. Friends. Nothing
more. But I felt I was constantly
battling against you, your preconceived
notions of me, of what I should be to
you, of what you wanted me to be. You
have no place in calling what I do
sordid, or awful, or whatever. Not after
some of the things you yourself have
done."
I closed my eyes, feeling ashamed.
"You came here with a whole load of ideas
about what you would find, about what you
wanted to find here; and, finding me, you
thought you had found what you wanted.
Only you never bothered to see what was
really before your eyes. You were
blinded by your own dreams, your fantasy
world. I offered you my friendship, I
truly did, but wanting something else you
could not see it. Perhaps you would not
let yourself, I cannot say, but that is
your problem, not mine."
"How quick to judgment you are! I
noticed it from the first time we spoke.
Everything has to be put in its place for
you to understand, doesn't it? You were
so quick to interpret my actions as
fulfilling your desires. And now that
you have been disappointed you are
equally quick to condemn me."
She waited. "That man is really my
lover, nothing more. He has nothing to
do with my work, he isn't a spy or
anything like that: he's just my
boyfriend."
I couldn't contain my surprise: "But Mr
Ogawa!"
"Mr Ogawa lied to you, Mr Sato, and if he
knew what I was telling you now it would
not go well for me with him. There is no
spying going on here. The only
disinformation is what he told you. I am
not telling you this to defend myself, my
honor, or my reputation, but simply out
of friendship. For your own sake. I
hope you can accept it."
"But why Megumi? Why would he make up
such a thing?" I could not contain myself
any longer.
"He actually values your work highly,"
she answered. "You have done him a great
service. But by accepting your work he
has placed himself in your debt. He has
to trust you Mr Sato. Knowing what you
know, you could hurt him, and he really
does fear that you may give away some of
his secrets, maybe inadvertently, but his
fear and the possibility is real. What
he said this morning was merely an effort
on his part to plant a seed of doubt in
your mind, to taint the value of what you
know. Even now you are wondering if what
I am telling you is the truth or just
another lie. He is shrewd: he knows that
once planted the seed of doubt needs
little cultivation. It grows on its own.
That is all he hoped to accomplish."
"You still are letting him use you, even
if what you say is true," I said, my mind
reeling, trying to keep up with the
twists and turns of what I was hearing.
"Yes, to a point," she replied. "He does
use me. The lure of me, really. I live
my personal life the way I wish and he
capitalizes on it. He knows about my
lovers, their comings and goings, and he
tolerates it. I have no desire to
control what others think of me so that,
for the most part, if someone is laid low
because of what he says about me it is no
concern of mine. When it affects me
personally, as in this case, I take
action. You know this morning all you
needed to do was ask me if what he said
was true. I would have denied it."
"In front of him, really?" I felt
stupid.
"That is why I was there at all," she
answered. "He really did not care either
way. The two of us discussed it. All he
wanted to do was plant the seed. Once
done it was of no concern to him what I
said. At other times I might have simply
let it go, let whomever it was believe
what they chose: but you I liked. I feel
a glimmer of familiarity between us. I
think you felt it too, from the start,
but you jumped to a conclusion: that we
should be lovers, that I wanted what you
wanted. Still, even so, there is
something about you that I like." She
reached out to pat my arm.
"Mr Sato, you look so glum. What did you
expect from your week here anyway? I
would say you have gotten more than you
could have ever wished for. Perhaps not
exactly what you wanted, but something
stimulating in its own way." She
laughed, gently.
"Megumi, I don't know what to think, what
to believe any more," I said, shaking my
head.
She was still smiling. "Don't think.
For once just be."
"I feel badly, whatever the truth is," I
said.
She sighed in mock exasperation. "You
just will not let go, will you? What is
it you feel badly about?"
"Well, Satomi for one thing," I said.
"I feel guilty about..."
"She confides in me, you know," Megumi
broke in. "Yes, I know about her little
hiding place and all that. I would not
allow it if we were not as close as we
are, if I could not keep an eye out for
her. I know she gets jealous of me
sometimes, but only because she is a
young girl and frustrated. You can think
what you will about our relationship; I
am not about to justify it to you."
I opened my mouth to speak, but Megumi
continued: "Besides, we had an
interesting discussion this morning."
"Well, that's what I feel badly about
Megumi," I stammered. "I should have
behaved better, shown a little more self
control. I don't like the way I acted.
That's not who I am."
"Really?" Megumi seemed to barely
containing her mirth. "Poor Ken Sato,"
she said. "Forever wracked by guilt.
When are you going to shake that off?
Who cares who you are anyway? Do you
really think you can be something other
than the sum of your actions?"
"But..." I sputtered to a halt. She was
running rings around me, deftly exposing
my weaknesses, yet her tone was gentle,
cajoling rather than putting me down.
"Let me tell you one last thing Mr Sato.
Satomi is strong. She will take care of
herself. She will be just fine without
you worrying about her. You might think
about this too on your long trip home:
she's dying for it, you know."
I looked at her, puzzled.
" I mean to have sex." She laughed.
Don't look so surprised! "She was ready
and willing Mr Sato. Now, how many men
could spend a week in this place, pursued
by such a nymph, and not be seduced?
Your eyes were closed Mr Sato. You fixed
yourself with one idea and wouldn't
entertain any other, even when it came
begging to your door."
She cocked her head sideways, showing her
amusement. "To my mind what happened
here is simple Mr Sato: you went down the
wrong garden path, too blind see what lay
around you, too stubborn to turn back."
Megumi looked over her shoulder, towards
the garden, as if she had heard some
distant sound.
"Farewell, and have a safe journey home!"
she said, turning to face me one last
time.
She brought her face close and kissed my
cheek. Her eyes sparkled with mischief
as she turned from me and began walking
though the grove towards the path. I
stood watching as she emerged from the
trees and continued on her way, skirting
the edge of the pond. She disappeared
from view several times, only to reappear
again farther away. I wondered about
her, the things she had done, the things
that she had said, unable to fathom what
I had experienced. At last she emerged
from the trees on the stone bridge. The
wind had quieted and Megumi paused to
look down at the water. Her perfect
reflection stared back at her from below
until a small ripple blurred her outline
into a mottled patch of moving water.
Captivated by the patterns of light and
color my eyes lingered their for an
instant before looking up, only to
discover she had gone.
Fin
Part 7 of 7
Richard Rivers 4/98
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