Fukusha Model Eight – Chapter 15

The soft clink of glasses and bowls on a table jolt me out of sleep. Someone’s in my apartment.

I jump, snapping my hand out for the knife I keep on the side of my futon. My hand collides with a glass, knocking it off a side table and spilling water everywhere.

“Oh my! I’m so sorry,” a woman I don’t recognize runs over to me.

Where am I?

My eyes search the room, but none of it looks familiar. I pull the duvet on the bed up to my chin and hide away from the woman who’s come to clean up the mess I just made. My head aches in the way it does after a migraine, so that’s probably what’s happened to me.

Probably…

“I woke you up. I apologize.” She bows as she picks the glass up from the floor.

“Sorry. I didn’t know that was there.”

“It’s fine. It’s just water.”

She mops up the water on the floor, sets the glass back down, and heads for the door. I think she’s about to leave when instead she opens the door and says, “Please let Mr. Hara know that Miss Minamoto is awake.”

Rin. Rin is here?

I try to pull the covers up higher when my right arm jolts with pain. I hiss and straighten it out slowly. There’s a bandage on my inner elbow, maybe from an IV. Panic floods my chest and spurs my heart into rapid beating.

“Where am I?” I ask the woman. She’s returned to the table to set out more food.

She eyes me, her brows furrowing. “You’re at my estate. I’m Miho Nomura, remember?”

Not really. I don’t say that out loud.

Play it cool, Yumi. The last thing I remember was walking outside in the hot sun. We were coming to get Rin, free him from his kidnappers. Did I succeed? Maybe I should go find Kazuo? Is he here?

The woman rushes back to the bed as I try to swing my legs out.

“No! Please don’t get out of bed.”

I freeze in my spot, my eyebrows raised.

“We understand you’ve had a rough few months, and your health and safety are important to the Nomura family. Please get back in the bed and rest.” She lifts the covers and shoos me under them. I’m both offended she’s mothering me and surprised I let her. “You’ve been in here for three days with a migraine, and the drugs my doctors gave you may take a while to wear off.”

A three-day migraine and I don’t remember anything. Fuck. This is bad news.

“Can I get you some tea?” she asks, bowing.

“How about a big fucking beer?”

She gasps, covering her mouth with her hand. “Such language. You cannot have a beer.”

I hear the jingle of Ninjin’s collar before he trots into the room on his leash with Rin.

I gasp, my hand flies to my mouth, and my eyes water with tears. It’s Rin, and he’s so… different. He has hair everywhere.

“If the lady wants a beer, she’ll have a beer,” Rin says, unclipping Ninjin’s leash.

“Oh my…,” I breathe out. He’s alive! He’s safe. And he has a beard. How totally strange.

He jerks his head at the door. “Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Nomura. But I’d like some time with Yumi alone.”

“Yes, Mr. Hara.” She bows as she backs out the door and closes it quietly behind her.

I break down into tears, covering my face with my hands. “You’re alive, thank the gods.” Dropping my hands, I hold out one to him.

He smiles as he takes it and sits on the bed. “Yumi, there’s no need for dramatics. I was just out for a walk.”

“Ha. Now, who’s the funny one? Did they free you without asking for anything in return? How did this happen? Surely, these people asked for ransom. Did you strike some deal?”

Rin’s eyes drop to my hand in his. “It’s worse than Kazuo let on,” he whispers. He takes a deep breath, lifts his eyes to mine, and they’re full of worry. “You arrived here three days ago and negotiated for my release with Miho Nomura, the woman who just left this room.”

I blink a few times and pull my hand back from his. “I did?”

Closing my eyes, I see nothing but a black, fuzzy space in my memories, though there are some sensations I can’t place. A cool floor. Being lifted by strong arms… I was sick?

Rin nods before rubbing his beard. He even has hair on top of his head!

“You did. And then you were struck by the worst migraine I’ve ever seen. I almost took you to the hospital. You had a seizure, and we needed a doctor. They want to do tests and scans because the two doctors who were here think this is… unusual.”

I open my mouth, but I don’t know what to say. Three days and I remember nothing.

Ninjin jumps on the bed and breathes in my face.

“Mmmm, someone’s had chicken and carrots,” I tease, scratching his neck. Since I don’t know what to say, I might as well change the subject. Ninjin flops down and presents his belly for rubbing. I oblige.

“I can see why you named him that. He loves carrots.” Rin places the leash on the dresser. “I took him for a long walk, and we returned through the kitchen. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not. I hope you don’t mind. You said you never wanted to own an animal, and I wasn’t sure what you’d think of him. But I needed him in Kitakyushu, and well…” My voice cracks as I rub Ninjin’s belly and look at his happy doggy face. “I have to keep him.”

“Yes, you do.” Rin spreads his hands wide. “I’ve seen how he handles your migraines. He must have been trained as a therapy dog before he made it to you.”

“You think?” I lean forward and bury my face in Ninjin’s neck. “Ah, he’s such a good boy.” I sigh as I relax onto Ninjin, listening to his heartbeat in his chest.

I wait a few moments before I sit up, yawn, and stretch. My body hurts, but I’m not incapacitated. I’m weak and hungry, though. Before she left, Miho Nomura was setting up a meal at a low table across the room, close to glass sliding doors that lead to a private hot spring bath and garden.

“What time is it?” I run my fingers through my hair, getting it back in shape. My scalp hurts, and my locks are greasy. I’m gross.

“It’s evening. Dinner time.”

“Where’s Kazuo? Is his room nearby?”

“He left the estate while you were asleep. He didn’t want to leave while you were still in a lot of pain, but you crossed over the boundary about eight hours ago and have been asleep since then. He’s on his way back to Gobo right now to speak to Atsumi.”

“Really? He didn’t say goodbye?” I sink down into the bed, disappointed.

Rin smiles sadly. “I promise I’ll get him on the tablet before bed so you can talk to him. Come sit with me. We have a lot to go over. I’ve been thinking and thinking and thinking for the last few hours while you slept.”

I swing my legs out of bed and stand up gingerly. My head is light with sleep inertia, and my legs are weak from the walking we’ve done recently. I love that Rin knows better than to baby me and help me from the bed, but he stands close by to make sure I’m not going to fall over.

“Oh,” he says, remembering something, running into the bathroom, and coming out with a warm, heavy robe for me. “Here. I want you to be comfortable.”

“Thanks. I, uh, want to use the bathroom and brush my teeth first, if that’s okay.” I allow him to wrap me up in the robe and lead me to the bathroom. Brushing my teeth is painful, both for my arms and my head, but I feel so much better once I rinse my mouth out and splash water on my face. I look at myself in the mirror and sigh. I’ve seen three-day-old dead bodies who looked better than I do right now.

Out in the room, a giant spread of food is laid out across the length of the table. More than Rin or I could ever eat. Fake fried chicken cutlets, rice with mixed vegetables, a green salad, pickles, more plain rice, crackers wrapped in nori seaweed all make my stomach growl.

“I’m not sure I can eat much of this,” I say, trying to bring some levity to the situation. I know all this food is here because I’ve had so little these last few months.

“Eat as much as you can. Please.” Rin is insistent, so I push my bowl across to him.

“Make me up a bowl?”

He smiles at this gesture. Back in his apartment, whenever he cooked, he always plated my food for me. Something about it is comforting. We didn’t have much time together before we were separated, and I’ll take all the little gestures and rituals I can get. Anything I can remember.

A memory pops into my head, me pushing him away, me puking in a trashcan. I swallow as I look at the trashcan next to the desk.

I graciously take the bowl of food I’m offered and examine the chicken cutlet. It looks so real.

“Are you sure this isn’t from a real chicken?” I ask, holding it up between my chopsticks and examining it.

“You ask that every time, and the answer is still yes, I’m certain no real chickens were harmed to make your meal.”

“Okay.” Though I don’t believe him. I bite into the cutlet and marvel at how real it tastes. I don’t want to know how they got it that way.

Rin eats a few bites, and I watch the way his mouth moves, his cheek indents under his beard, and the hair on his head shifts back and forth.

He looks up and catches me watching him. “Yumi, you’re staring.”

I laugh as I return to my rice. “I’m just wondering something.” I shrug my shoulders.

“Wondering what now?”

“If all that hair on your head had grown while I was with you, would I think it was any less surreal? Like, would I be used to it? I think I would. It probably wouldn’t bother me at all.”

I wonder what it feels like to kiss him with that beard. I close my eyes, and the ghost of a kiss whispers across my lips. Touching my lips with my fingers, I sigh. I think I did kiss him. I think I liked it.

When I open my eyes, Rin is watching me with a deep, piercing stare. I blush and look away, memories of our first kiss swimming up to meet me. It was in the storeroom at K&G Noodles. I remember that, at least.

Rin chews for a long moment. “It bothers you.”

“No! No.” I wave at him. “Please. It’s your face and head. Do what you want with it.”

“No, I get it. It bothers you because the last time you saw me my head and face were shaved, and now, suddenly, I’m different. I’ll shave.”

“You don’t have to do that.” I set down my bowl. “You don’t have to do anything for me.”

Rin looks away from me, out the window, his jaw tensing and tensing and — He slams his fist on the table, and everything on it jumps. Including me. Ninjin pops up from the bed and barks.

“Ninjin, hush,” I command. He does his usual growl-bark, huffs, and lies back down.

“Don’t you understand?” Rin asks, his face turned towards me, fiery red with anger. “I would do anything for you. Anything. I should’ve been there with you in Kitakyushu.” He pounds on his chest. “I feel sick knowing you slept on the streets and had to fend off rapists and yakuza. That you’ve been starving and scared for my life. Fucking Atsumi. I’m going to kill her.”

Panic surges through my chest. “How — How do you know about that?” But I immediately know the answer. I have three days of missing time during which I was probably spilling my deepest secrets and blubbering about my time in Kitakyushu. I want to fucking sew my mouth shut and never say another word again.

“Kazuo told me how you almost killed Atsumi yourself. Did you at least draw blood?”

“I —” A chuckle bursts from my mouth unexpectedly. I touch my own lip. “I busted her lip.”

“Good. But she kept at you about how you fucked up, and you were the one who got me into this situation?”

His stare is piercing.

“I did fuck up. I let my guard down, and I… I talked about you to this girl, Saki, who I thought was a friend but was really a spy.” I ball my hand into a fist. “Ugh. I hate myself for being weak and giving in.”

“It’s okay, Yumi. Really.”

“No, it’s not.” I shake my head, annoyed that I want to cry. This is what happens when I’m weakened and tired.

“Yes, it is. Though the experience of being kidnapped is not all that great, I’ll grant that, this whole situation turned out for the best. I promise. We can’t get Shiroi Nami. Not now. They’re buried so deep in their holes, it’ll take something massive to pull them out. Samurai Seven is a good stop-gap.” He drums his fingers on the table. “But I don’t want to talk about that now. I’m so… I’m absolutely heartbroken.”

“What? Why?” This subject change makes my heart squeeze, like a cat trying to fit into a tiny box.

“If you break up with me, I won’t blame you. Not one bit.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the little notebook Kazuo gave me. I startle in surprise, my hands snapping to my chest and patting it.

“How did you get that?”

He sinks in dismay. “You gave it to me, right before you passed out yesterday. Told me to write down the name of the town we lived in for a short while. Remember?”

My heart beats wildly as he holds it up.

“I opened it and read your entire account about Kitakyushu. I’ve never been so disturbed in my entire life. I’ve seen what you’ve seen, but I’ve never had to endure it, even as an orphan.” His voice cracks and my strength goes with it. “Then I saw this in the front. ‘I really screwed things up here. I was supposed to do one job, and instead, my loose lips got Rin kidnapped. I hope he forgives me. But I can’t force Rin to do anything, so if he breaks up with me after he finds out I was the one that gave him away, so be it. I’ll be… I’ll be really fucking upset is what I’ll be. I didn’t expect to lose someone I care for so quickly after finding him. But I guess it wasn’t meant to be.…’”

Hearing my own words come out of his mouth is unreal. I barely remember writing that. But I do remember what I wrote next.

“Stop,” I demand, lunging forward to grab the notebook. He pulls the notebook back, pressing it to his chest and looking out the window.

“Everything is so fucked up,” he whispers. “Why did you cross out the next statement? I read everything you wrote in here, especially the paragraph about me and how you wondered if I left you there to die.” He sighs as he sets the book down on the table. It’s his Sigh of Ultimate Weariness, the one I only heard when things were really bad.

“I know you didn’t leave me there to die. Atsumi never told you where I was or what was happening to me.”

“But still, the very fact that you were left to even think that for a short period? That breaks my heart, Yumi. Do you really not remember anything from the past few days?”

I wince at the effort I take to form a coherent thought. “No. I don’t.”

I shake my head, tears flying everywhere. I hug myself and the sensation brings back Rin’s arms around me, the corner of the bathroom, me on his lap curled into a ball. I draw in a sharp breath, hoping to catch more, but it’s like looking into a warped mirror. If I turn my head a little, I can barely catch sight of the memories.

“I’m worried you don’t remember much about our… our time together in Shin-Osaka or the weeks following in Awashikawa.” He hands the notebook back to me. “You must not, otherwise why cross it out? If you remember everything, then you must know by now that I’m in love with you. I was hoping you’d love me back.”

So this is what heartbreak really feels like.

I drop my head down on the table and try to contain my sobs. “I do. It’s just… I sat in that hellhole for months believing you were okay with everything I was going through, and that I was the weak one for hating every minute of it.” I swallow, trying to gain some strength. “I was so happy to find out you knew nothing. At least, Atsumi didn’t lie to me about that.”

After a few moments, he comes around the table and sits next to me, placing his hand on my back and sliding it over my shoulders.

“I’m undeserving of your love, Yumi. I wouldn’t blame you if you never said it.” He leans in and kisses my temple. “We need to make new memories, ones that won’t be stolen from you. I know you don’t mean it, but I’m heartbroken knowing special moments between us may be lost to you forever.”

I pull in a snotty breath through my running nose and sit up. “I don’t like this at all. I don’t like losing my memories. I don’t like doubting you or Kazuo or my own two eyes. This is not how I like to be.” I turn my face to him and wince again at the pain that little movements like this cost me.

He cringes and hisses, drawing his hands up to my face. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. I’m making everything worse.” He draws me forward and kisses me on my forehead. “I’m an asshole,” he murmurs, the hair of his beard tickling my forehead. When he pulls away, he pushes my bowl back to me. “Can we eat and move on?”

I nod. “Wait, though.” I pull him back as he tries to get up and return to his side of the table. I reach up to his neck and pull his face to mine, angling in to kiss him. His beard is softer than I imagined, and as our lips meet, our previous kiss comes back. Rin’s lips are the same, the same ones I dreamt about for months, the few times I could really fall asleep and dream. This connection stirs something deep inside of me, the want, the need for him. It’s foreign and strange but not unwelcome.

“Mmmm,” I say, pulling away. “I was wondering what that felt like.”

“Didn’t remember?” he asks with a smile. “You can keep reminding yourself over and over. I won’t object.” He laughs, and it brings a smile to my face.

“Good. I like unfettered access to you. These last three months have been torture.”

“Same.” He picks up my hand and kisses it before sitting down on his side of the table. “And just to be clear, you’re not going to break up with me? Because there were a few times you mentioned it during your darkest hours.”

“I still might, so be on your best behavior.”

He barks out a laugh, gazing across the table at me. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” I take a deep breath, letting out the tension then mop up my face. “Look, Atsumi tried to blackmail me into not saying anything to you about all of this. She cut me off in Kitakyushu and sold me to the yakuza as a prostitute. There’s a very angry, very large man who’s probably looking for me.” Haku’s investment flew the coop before it could lay eggs.

He takes a deep breath. “I’m going to kill her. I swear it.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“Whatever. I’ll handle the yakuza. And blackmail is typical Atsumi behavior. I trust you and Kazuo more than I’ve ever trusted her. She’s gone too far,” he growls, his eyes dark with anger. “Which is why Kazuo has gone back to Gobo to tender our resignations.”

“Really? You? Quit?”

He nods, a slow beat of his head. “We’re done. Kazuo and I have agreed to withdraw our contracts from Kiiroi Yama. Atsumi has gone too far, and Okamoto is not keeping his corporation in check.”

I shudder, thinking about how Atsumi will take this news. She said she’d come for me. I better be looking over my shoulder from here on out.

“Remember Kengo and Mara?”

I do. They’re both kenryōshi like Rin. Kengo never liked me much but came to tolerate me, and I only met Mara in passing twice.

“They’re done too, and I’m sure they’re not the only ones. There’s a schism in Kiiroi Yama.”

I open my mouth to ask more, but Rin raises his hand.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re entirely devoted to you and your mission. We still must find Shiroi Nami, no matter how hard it’ll be.”

My stomach grumbles as the scent of food swirls through the room on the breeze from the opened window.

“Tell me more about what’s going on here,” I say, changing the subject.

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything. Who are the Nomuras? Samurai Seven? What do they want? Why would we do business with them when we’ve been trying to find Shiroi Nami for months?”

There’s a knock at the door, and Rin calls for them to come in. A woman brings in a tray with several bottles of beer.

“Now we’re talking.” I rub my hands together and hope the beer helps me stay numb for a little longer.

She pours two frosty glasses and leaves.

Rin raises his glass to me, and we clink them together.

“I can’t tell you how relieved I am — really relieved — that you’re here.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out before sipping his beer. “Okay. Let me start at the beginning.”