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“No. Because you love me. Not only that. The way you love me. I realized at the bungalow you took me to all the theaters I spoke of when we first got together. I didn’t even realize…” I trail off when he won’t meet my gaze.
“It was the first thing I remember when my brain and body had healed from everything they’d done to me.” His words are low and rife with pain.
Leaning in I kiss his cheek letting him tell me the rest of the story.
“I thought I was losing touch with reality again when I kept having dreams and memories of this pretty Black girl with an American accent. Yet, every time I focused too hard it would give me a migraine or I would just draw a blank. When medication didn’t help Dr. Inoru intervened reaching out to Kiyoshi, who confessed the truth of our relationship. He kept it from me because he obviously didn’t realize that he was doing more harm than good.”
“Oh my goodness, babe.” Just thinking of how he suffered fearing I was a figment of his imagination breaks my heart.
“How did they make you forget?” Immediately I regret asking. “No. You don’t have to tell me. I don’t want you tohave to relive anything horrible.” I wave for emphasis. But he’s already grabbing my hand, kissing my palm.
“No. It’s okay. I want to tell you.” He draws me close and I don’t even mind the smears of drying blood on the pretty rose gold dress I decided to wear.
“Lobotomies, drugs, so many drugs. That’s why I stopped smoking blunts everyday. After that experience I never wanted to feel altered, I also didn’t need them anymore to self-regulate. It took me a long time to get my body back after all the torture they called treatment. They took so much from me, Tay-chan.” His eyes are pools of sorrow and shame. “I can’t believe my dad did that to me. I thought he was always on my side.” Looking away he roughly wipes the glimmer from his eyes.
“My monster would emerge and fight for me. The monster attacking anything that tried to touch me but one thing our sensei taught us in samurai training is that you aren’t going to win every fight and when you are losing a battle just survive another day. Eventually with all the beating, tortures and, and—” he trails off not meeting my eyes, his cheeks flushed with a shame not its own saying, “Rapes.”
He looks at me fully. “They raped me to break me. Eventually they did. And I just existed until my brother rescued me from that place.”
Stroking his hair, I pull him into my arms. He buries his head in my neck and silently sobs.
“I needed you so bad. While I could still remember, I just wanted to hold your hand like I did in the beginning,” he whispers brokenly in my arms.
Lacing our fingers together, I hold him absorbing all he’s told me.
“I’m here now, Hisashi. I’m here forever.”
“I love you so fucking much. Aishiteru yo. Tay-chan.” His voice is so raw, so guttural, it flays me as I sit in his arms.
Then for the first time since his father’s death we hold each other and cry.
Later, when he pushes inside me, loving me so sweetly he whispers to me again and again, “Aishiteru yo, Tay-chan.”
His lips take mine, our kiss is bloody, yet I take everything he has to give holding nothing back and I feel his monster watching.
I say the words back knowing monster or not, psychopath and all, he deserves love and I’m going to spend the rest of my life giving him all of mine.
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
Hisashi
“Last item on the bucket list-o,”I told Taylor earlier as we sped through the Tokyo night to the Kabukiza Theater to see the dramaYOWA NASAKE UKINA NOYOKOGUSHI, an adaptation of the film,Scarface.
“It’s just bucket list.” She laughed softly, leaning the way I love giving me a soft kiss just under my jaw.
She’s asked no questions when I told her I had a surprise in Japan a week ago. In the time we’ve been here I’ve finally met her parents and sat through the interrogation they gave us on our relationship. Candidly telling them about my struggles with my mental health and our forced separation seemed to soften them a bit, well her mom. Her father on the other hand was quick to remind me of her intensely problematic cousin Ozymandias Savelle who handles certain situations for thefamily. My remaining unflappable at this threat garnered a little more respect. Now that I’m on this radar I doubt I’ll ever get off.
The rest of the week is us reacquainting ourselves with Tokyo. Since my business requires me to come home my residence at the Toranomon Hills Residential Tower comes in handy. Her love of the penthouse makes me happy since I judiciously had the designer incorporate her love of purple throughout the space. She let me make love to her on the purple chaise after I draped her in her body jewelry. Biting back a groan I try not to think of how she looked coated in my come and diamonds and the way she allowed me to lick her clean.
As we watch the story unfold of the mob boss and the geisha we’re both riveted. She on the production and me I was simply spellbound by her joy.
Her love of theater is incandescent. I can’t help being won over by her enthusiasm. The over-the-top experience she happily claims is by far her favorite of all she’s seen.
“Really?” I ask with delighted skepticism. “We have been to Broadway, London, Paris, and Sydney and you love Tokyo most. Are you just trying to please me, wife?”
“Nope. There’s something hugely appealing to me about an artform that traces back to its origins. We were told to hold off on visiting the theater because they wanted us to be authentic in our approach in writing so that we used our lived experiences to create. I’m so happy you brought me,” she says just as the door is opened by the driver. Rushing around to my side, I feel anticipation fuel me and not a little bit of hunger because we decided to eat after the play.
