Vignettes of life: How they found out

Hope sprung eternal. Hence, he always hoped that one day, when he burst into the Saeba apartment, and he did it quickly enough, he might find Kaori in a state of partial undress, relaxing on the sofa, waiting for him with an inviting smile (okay, the last one was a stretch, but one never knew). He liked looking at her, especially when Ryo wasn’t around. But lately the guy was always around, and Kaori was always so tense.

This time, he hoped Ryo was around, though. Because he was feeling restless and he wanted to go out and party like the old times—another thing Ryo refused to do lately, which was beyond strange—and he needed a party buddy.

So, as per his usual, on one end hoping to find Kaori alone, on the other hoping Ryo would finally stop sulking (for no obvious reason, mind you!) and go cabaret-hopping with him, late one Friday afternoon Mick entered—loudly—into the building, bounded—again, very loudly—up the stairs, and quickly and extremely loudly opened the Saeba apartment door.

“Yoohoo!” he yelled in exuberance. “I’m in the mood to party! Who’s coming with me?!”

His party mood dimmed somewhat on seeing his friend on the couch, a dark scowl on his face, glaring daggers in his direction, and Kaori quickly disappearing into the kitchen with a feeble offer of coffee thrown over her shoulder. She didn’t even look at him. Mick pouted.

“Is this the way of coming to visit?” Ryo snarled. “What the hell do you want?”

He was a little taken aback by the venomous tone and palpable rage coming at him in waves. “Okay,” he said with a slight smile on his face. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Beside you busting in here like you own the place?!”

Mick cocked his head, considering. “Yes. You’ve been snarly for months. It doesn’t look good on you. What’s wrong?”

“None of your business. Fuck off.”

Mick grinned. “Oh, I see. You haven’t gotten laid, huh?” He looked quizzically toward the kitchen, where Kaori suddenly was suddenly overcome by a coughing fit. “Need a help in there?” he called, taking a step forward, when Ryo stood up, blocking his path with a murderous expression.

“She doesn’t.” He forcefully turned him and pushed him toward the door. “And you’re leaving.”

Mick dug in his heels. “Not without you.” He shook off Ryo’s grip and danced out of his reach. “Come on,” he cajoled. “You know you want to go out with me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Oh, come on, you need to lighten up, get out of this funk.”

“I’m not in a funk,” Ryo snarled.

“Sure you are. That’s what happens when you don’t get laid.” He grinned. “Come one, Kabukichō is waiting. I bet you’ll feel better in the morning.”

Ryo stared at him for so long and so hard, Mick started to worry. It was obvious an inner debate was raging.

“Careful,” he chuckled. “You might just burst a cog.”

Ryo’s features suddenly smoothed out, and he seemed to stand taller as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “Here’s the truth, Mick. I don’t want to go out with you. I don’t need to go out with you. I’m getting laid, as you so tactfully expressed yourself, just fine, thank you very much.” His eyes twinkled as he looked over his shoulder toward the kitchen, a sweet smile playing on his lips. “And I would like to get back to it, so if you would kindly fuck off.”

As if in a trance, Mick turned toward where Ryo was looking and saw her. Kaori stood in the kitchen doorway, her eyes enormous, her obviously well-kissed mouth slightly parted, lips puffy and glistening. Her cheeks were pink, but beside her obvious blush, there were reddish spots of whisker burn, a small, purple mark was forming on her neck, and the upper three buttons of her blouse were missing as she clutched it closed over her breasts.

“Oh,” he said numbly. “I see.”

“Good,” Ryo said and walked to Kaori, circled her waist with his arm, and kissed her temple. “Now get lost.”

“Right away.” He grinned. “You kids have fun.” He saluted and sauntered out.

On the way down the stairs, he grinned. It was about fucking time, really. The only problem was now he had to find someone else to go cabaret-hopping with him.

She was running her fingers over Ryo’s hard, muscular chest, frowning slightly at his rather conspicuous lack of interest—not for the first time in the last few months—batting her eyelashes up at him. “What do you say, Ryo, huh?”

“No.”

She pouted, batted her lashes again...Nothing. He just stared down at her, his face impassive, not a drop of drool in sight. She scrambled for what to say, do to keep him hooked, but nothing was working. Not anymore. There was something wrong with him. Was he sick or something? If he was, he’d been for a long time.

It was definitely him, not her. Because her wiles still worked like a charm. Just not on him. Not on Saeba Ryo. Not anymore.

What was wrong with him?

“Come on, Ryo,” she tried again, amping up the twinkle in her eye and alluring smile as she slid even closer to him on the sofa, pressing her bosom against his arm as she tickled her fingers on his wrist. “Don’t be like that.”

She blinked. Blinked again as he calmly stood and moved away, all the way to the other side of the coffee table, and looked down at her with barely concealed annoyance.

“You’re an adult, Saeko. You should take no for an answer.”

She bristled. How dare he speak to her like that? How dare he stand there and appear to look down his nose at her? No one rejected her. Least of all him. Not after he’d spent years drooling after her, doing her bidding.

Time to bring out the big guns.

She might as well do it. She’s been promising him sex for years. Well, she wasn’t getting any younger, and he was a mighty fine male specimen. So, why not?

She slowly stood, making sure to use the high slit in her skirt to her full advantage—not that he noticed, he kept his eyes firmly on her face—and slinked toward him.

“Well, if you do it, I’ll pay up the debt that I owe you,” she murmured seductively, running her fingers down his torso again.

He sighed and took a step back. “I’d rather take cash, Saeko. As I told you a million times already. Is something wrong with your hearing? You might want to see a doctor about that. They say the hearing’s the first thing to go.”

Was he calling her old? She gritted her teeth. She’ll show him old. Pasting her best come-hither smile on her face, she tucked her finger into the waistband of his pants. “Are you sure about that?” She looked at him from beneath her lashes, but he wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were zeroed in on the front door.

The door that slammed closed with a vengeance behind her.

Saeko couldn’t help but grin. No wonder he wasn’t looking at her. The lady of the house has returned, and he was probably wracking his brain with finding an excuse that would get him out of a sound beating. Not that he needed any excuses—nothing happened—but Kaori didn’t know that. Her grin grew.

“Get your hands off him, Saeko,” Kaori said calmly, but there was a touch of danger in her voice.

Ryo grabbed her wrist, removed her hand from his body, stepped away once more, and smiled. “Hey, Kaori.”

“Hey.”

Saeko blinked. There was something wrong with the picture. He should’ve been smashed under one of Kaori’s uber-mallets by now. Why wasn’t he?

Deciding to puzzle on it later, she turned and gave Kaori a slight wave. “Hi, Kaori.” She swallowed a giggle. She loved needling the girl. “It’s not as it seems.”

Kaori arched an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Didn’t I just walk into my home to find you sticking your hands where they don’t belong?”

She felt sorry for the girl. To be so utterly in love with a man who would be dead before he acknowledged his feelings for her. Poor kid. “Don’t they?” She laughed.

Kaori dropped her purse on the sofa, cocking her hip. “Would you think it funny to walk in on some woman pawing at your man, Saeko?” She pursed her lips. “I sure don’t.”

Saeko felt her mouth drop open. What was Kaori talking about? She looked to the side where Ryo stood with the most ridiculously besotted expression on his face, looking at Kaori as if she was his entire world. Well, she was his entire world. Saeko just didn’t know Kaori knew it.

Apparently, she did.

“Well...” She cleared her throat. “I apologize. It won’t happen again.” Pity. And hooray for Ryo to have finally found his balls. She nodded up at him. “Will a check do?”

He still only had eyes for his Kaori. “A check will do just fine.”

“Okay, then. You’ll get it first thing in the morning.” She walked out without another word. You win some, you lose some.

She’s been listening to him shoot, waiting for the appropriate moment to cross the tunnel between their two buildings and join him on his shooting range. She’s been feeling restless for a week; she couldn’t wait any longer. She wanted him. And what better way to initiate her seduction than on the underground shooting range in the middle of the night?

No Kaori, no distractions. Just the two of them.

Her ears twitched. Five minutes have passed since the last bout of shots; she might as well do it before he went to bed.

She almost squealed in excitement, the butterflies in her stomach rioting to the point of pain. Tonight was the night. No more waiting, no more wishing, no more daydreaming. Tonight she would be his, and he would be finally hers.

She quickly, silently padded down the tunnel between—hasn’t he made it for this particular reason?—and approached the slightly ajar door.

Mentally counting to five, she pushed it open a little more...And her mouth dropped open silently.

Because Saeba Ryo, his back to her, wasn’t alone.

He stood with his legs spread, his red T-shirt pulled out of his pants, his hair mused, all his attention focused on the woman in his arms, her butt on the shooting table.

All Reika could see of her were her hands, one clutching at Ryo’s shoulder, the fingers of the other thrust into his black hair, and her bare legs clenched around his waist. The contrast in their skin tone—his darkly tanned, her milky white—was glaring, making Reika’s eyes water.

This was supposed to be her night!

“What the fuck?!”

Ryo stiffened, the woman in his arms gasped, and Reika realized she actually said it out loud. Oh, well. Oopsy for interrupting.

Ryo turned his head to glare at her, keeping the woman in his arms pressed against his chest, hiding her from Reika’s view.

She gritted her teeth. Not for long. She would raise such a ruckus, Kaori would dig a hole through the floors to get to him. Then he’ll see holy hell. And so would the floozy with the milky-white thighs.

“What are you doing here, Reika?” he snapped.

She rolled her eyes. “What are you doing, Ryo?”

“I can do whatever the hell I want on my property.”

She grinned evilly. “Oh, really. I wonder what your partner would think about that.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” the woman in Ryo’s arms snapped. She sounded familiar. Reika watched wide-eyed as Kaori’s head popped up above Ryo’s shoulder as she pushed at his chest.

He pouted.

She pushed again. “Stop pouting, you’re not five. And get off me.”

He glared down at her affronted, reluctantly stepping away, revealing a disheveled Kaori wearing only a large, barely buttoned man’s shirt and a deep scowl.

She jumped off the table, reached down to zip up Ryo’s pants, and glared at Reika. “What would I think about it, indeed? Who the hell do you think even knows about his ultrasecret underground shooting range, huh?” With a huff and an eyeroll, she stalked to the door. “Anyway, moment’s over. Thanks for that, by the way,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, then looked at Ryo. “I’m going back to bed.”

Ryo sighed and grabbed his Python. “I’m boarding the fucking tunnel first thing in the morning,” he mumbled, then called after her. “Baby, wait up!”

Reika wanted to puke.

“Shut the lights when you’re done,” he told her as he walked out.

She seldom ventured out of Tokyo—she didn’t really need to, and she disliked being too far away from her husband—but when her great-aunt, the only blood family she had left, called and said she’d fallen and needed some help, Miki had been on the first Shinkansen out of town and on her way to Kyoto.

It hadn’t taken much to get Suke-san out of the hospital with not a single bone in her frail nonagenarian body broken—thank the Kami for that—just a little scraped and bruised and even more ornery than usual. The greatest feat was getting Suke-san back into her house, an old wooden building smack half-way between the Ninenzaka and Sannenzaka Stairs in the old Kyoto historical district of Higashiyama.

It wasn’t the no-cars policy of the historical district that proved to be the bigger problem, but the heavy pedestrian traffic, mainly in the form of a human flood of tourists visiting the Kiyomizudera temple for the magnificent view it offered of Kyoto and the historical district for the myriad of its shops, restaurants, and cafes.

Was it any wonder she didn’t like to visit Suke-san too often? She’d always felt swamped by the crowds, feeling millions of eyes on her. She knew no one really paid any undue attention to anyone in particular in Higashiyama. The sights, sounds, smells—the whole ambiance of a small town frozen in time was distraction enough. Who cared who you bumped into?

Still, looking for enemies, assessing all possible entry and exit points was ingrained, and the busy Higashiyama always put her teeth on edge. That’s why she never brought Falcon to visit. He’d probably lose his mind with all the people crammed into the narrow streets. Well, Tokyo was crammed as well, but not like this. The streets of the capital were larger, longer, straighter. You could breathe there.

She took a deep breath in preparation of braving the outside of her great-aunt’s house as she ran a few errands for her and opened the door.

A small sigh of relief escaped. There weren’t that many people around. The tour groups had probably broken off for lunch, and the crowd was just a trickle of people up and down the street. She might as well take advantage of that.

Then she noticed the woman on the other side of the narrow street, her back to her, perusing the vibrant assortment of the Kiyomizu-yaki pottery Suke-san’s neighbor was famous for.

The woman was tall, slender, and long-limbed. She was dressed in a simple, yet flirty, short white summer dress and strappy flat sandals with a tiny straw crossbody bag. She wasn’t wearing a hat, and the sunrays in her short hair shone with reddish fire.

If Miki didn’t know better, she’d think it was Kaori. Except for the fact Kaori never wore summer dresses, never even tried to look that feminine, that girly, despite Miki and Eriko’s cajoling and badgering. Besides, what would Kaori be doing in old town Kyoto anyway?

She was about to walk out when a tall, tanned man with dark hair and eyes walked down the street.

What the actual hell?

There was no mistaking Saeba Ryo. He might’ve changed his usual uniform of dark trousers, tight T-shirt, and jacket hiding the leather shoulder holster for blue jeans and a simple white, untucked button-down shirt.

But what made her blink and pause was the smile. The smile that completely transformed his face, making him appear younger, more relaxed, unbothered by the demons she knew were always lurking close to the surface.

What was Ryo of all people doing in Kyoto? And smiling to boot, looking completely different, having eyes only for the woman still perusing the pottery.

Miki gritted her teeth. If he was here playing hound dog while leading Kaori on at home, he had another think coming.

She was about to slam her great-aunt’s door closed, cross the street, and let him have it when the woman sensed his approach and turned toward him, making Miki gulp.

Because the woman was Kaori.

Holy shit! What is going on?

Kaori smiled, her eyes lighting up. “There you are. Where did you disappear to?”

Ryo shrugged. “I forgot something.”

“Oh, really? What?”

“This.” He pulled a pale pink rose from behind his back and gave it to her.

Kaori blushed prettily and brought the rose to her nose to inhale. “Thank you,” she murmured.

“It’s almost as pretty as you are.”

Then, unaware of Miki’s wide-eyed stare, he leaned down, Kaori nudged her chin up, and their lips met in a sweet, open-mouthed kiss that almost made Miki look away, feeling like she was intruding. Almost. Because she wouldn’t miss this for the world.

It didn’t look like a first date; they didn’t look like a couple tentatively finding their way at the beginning of a relationship. Kaori and Ryo looked like they’ve been practicing kissing a lot. So this wasn’t new. Far from it. Why were they hiding it? Why did they keep pretending to be only work colleagues back home? Why come to Kyoto of all places when they had all of Tokyo at their disposal?

She mentally slapped her forehead. Of course they couldn’t go public. Not with the life they led, not with Ryo’s many enemies just waiting to strike at any perceived weaknesses. Hence the secret romance, dates far away from the usual haunts of Tokyo...

She felt a little sorry for them, but mostly, she just wanted to whoop with joy.

Finally!

And she was the only one to know. And she’d remain the only one if she could help it. The two would tell when they were good and ready. If they were good and ready. Until that moment came, Miki wouldn’t make a peep about it. Business as usual.

Breaking apart, Ryo softly kissed the tip of Kaori’s nose. He threw his arm around her shoulder; she clasped his fingers and circled her other arm around his waist as they slowly made their way down the street toward Maruyama Park.

Miki sighed and pressed her palm against her heart, then closed the door behind her and rushed in the opposite direction. It was late, and she still had all the errands to run. Suke-san will not be pleased.

“Kaori, there’s something stuck on your collar.”

She reached back, grabbed the leafy thing, and looked at it. “It’s part of Miki’s bouquet.”

Ryo smiled. “So you did catch it. Well, a part of it.”

“Yeah,” she breathed and leaned her head against his chest.

Hidden in the bushes, just in case someone else decided to try something, Umibozu rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. At this pace, they’d still be here come morning, and those two would do nothing but hold and make calf-eyes at each other.

Ryo lifted his left arm slightly, then, as if changing his mind, let it drop again, and Umibozu has had enough. He had a wife to tend to; he had no intentions of spending the rest of his day in these freaking bushes.

“For fuck’s sake!” he snapped, clambering to his feet. “Would you just kiss her already so we can go home?!”

Kaori jumped back, her face crimson, while Ryo glared at him, holstering his Python. “Go ahead,” his former enemy growled. “Who’s keeping you?”

Umibozu rolled his eyes again. “You two dolts are keeping me. I bet if I leave and return tomorrow, you’ll still be right where you are, making moon eyes at each other. Just kiss her and get it over with.”

While Kaori was looking everywhere but at Ryo or him, Ryo had no such qualms. He stalked toward him, scowling. “Mind your own damn business, octopus.”

Umibozu grinned. “Don’t tell me you’re shy all of a sudden.”

That stopped Ryo in his tracks. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Or maybe you don’t know how it’s done.”

Ryo sputtered. “Now you’re just begging for a beating.”

Umibozu slapped him on his shoulder. “Don’t you have anything better to do than getting pummeled by me?” He nodded toward where Kaori was busy staring at the tips of her shoes. “If you want, I can give you some pointers, you know.”

“I don’t need pointers. Not from you, not from anybody,” Ryo snapped, utterly affronted.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Ryo rolled his eyes. “For you to leave.”

Umibozu chuckled. “Performance anxiety, huh?”

“Would you just go?” Ryo whined.

“I’m going, I’m going.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “The hardest part is over. You already told her you love her.”

Ryo’s mouth dropped open, but Umibozu could see; this was a lightbulb moment for the man, so he nodded and, after another, more affectionate shoulder tap, turned and walked away.

He paused at the forest edge. Debated with himself for a heartbeat or two, then muttered, “Fuck it,” and turned.

Ryo and Kaori were still in the middle of the clearing, but caught in a lip-lock so intense, he could feel a deep blush forming.

“Attaboy,” he muttered and stalked into the brush.

The End