Revealed – Chapter 5

“Today’s the big day, Mark. Are you ready?” Lucy rolls over in bed, her long red hair spilling out across the pillow. Tucking her head into the crook of Sakai’s arm, she kisses his chest lightly before falling back down into the covers.

The clock reads five AM. Sakai showed up at Lucinda Coen’s Ku 1 apartment at two after all her staff but security had gone for the night. He was so exhausted she put him to bed without even the prospect of sex. It’s not what he intended. If he wanted sleep, he would have stayed home.

“I’m ready. I’m always ready. I’ve been ready for years now.” He turns and pulls her to him. “I’m sorry I was so tired when I got here, especially after all the dirty messages we exchanged yesterday.”

Lucy laughs and Sakai’s heart clenches. He loves her laugh. It’s sincere and happy, one of the few things the city never witnesses. She smiles in public addresses but rarely ever does she laugh like she does for him.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you came over. You rarely sleep here.”

“I wouldn’t call the last three hours sleep.” He laid in bed, alternately dreaming or staring at the ceiling. Today is the first day of the rest of his life.

“I know. But you enjoy being in bed with me, and that’s the most important part.”

She reads him so well. He can tell himself over and over that their relationship, while long, wasn’t the kind of serious that merited marriage, but the more time he spends with her, the more he realizes how perfect she is for him.

“What’s the plan?” she asks with a yawn, stretching out her whole body from the tip of her fingers down her long legs. Her skin is pale and freckled, and he loves every centimeter of it.

“You send the message, I meet her at ten at the dōjō, and I tell her everything. Today. Done. Get it over with fast.”

Lucy pushes him and laughs. “No! I remember that plan. How could I forget something we’ve worked on together for two years? No. I meant, do we do some yoga before breakfast? Do you want to shower here? What?”

Oh. All Sakai can focus on are his plans for later this morning.

“I don’t think I have time for yoga this morning, but a shower and breakfast, sure. Then I need to make sure Theater 3B is all ready to go…”

“It is.”

“… And the dōjō is moved…”

“Already done.”

“What would I do without you?”

“I’m not sure. Probably watch a lot of porn, drink copious amounts of alcohol, and sing Japanese folk songs.” She smacks him on the chest and pushes herself up, glancing at the clock again. Five twenty-three. So early. “Or whatever it is you Japanese men do.”

“You pretend like you don’t know.” He smiles at her as she throws her leg over him to get out of the bed. Even in her luxurious Ku 1 apartment, meant for a queen, or the Chief Administrator of the last city on Earth, her bed is pushed against one wall to gain more floor space.

“Governing the city and truly understanding its populace are two entirely different things, Sakai.”

“Don’t call me that.” He likes to be Mark to those he loves.

“Sorry,” she says, leaning over and kissing him. “Just a joke. You can have the shower first.”

“Join me?” That sounds like a much better way to start the day. He pulls on her arm with a smile.

“Ohhh, tempting, truly, but I have my first meeting in forty minutes and need to go over my notes beforehand.” She slips on her pants and buttons up her shirt, taking her long red hair and twisting the locks into a bun. Grabbing her tablet, she exits out to her living room where her morning personal assistant is waiting.

They only ever have privacy in this one room. For two years, every intimate moment of their relationship has taken place between these four walls. Talking, laughing, playing, sex, yoga, eating. When they want to be alone, Sakai and Lucy come here. Even then, her position as the Chief Administrator of Nishikyō, and his as the head of his clan, means they have little free time to spend with each other.

If Sakai could think back and pinpoint the day he knew Lucy was interested in him, the only memory that comes to mind is Mariko telling him so.

Sakai had worked with Lucy (at the time, he only referred to her as Ms. Coen) for four years in his capacity as meditator amongst the clans. He attended governmental meetings representing the special interests of Ku 6, the largest, most populated ward in the city, to the administration, and had been doing the job for ten years. Being an ambassador of the clans was a boring job, nagging with its minutiae and constant bickering. On several occasions, he had considered giving it up altogether but he couldn’t. He had to stick it out.

Two years ago late spring, plans for a summer filled with festivals were in full swing, the permits for each one coming in at a rapid pace. Sakai met with Lucy in a one-on-one meeting, and she sighed looking at the list.

“The city is always so much fun this time of year, and I never get to go and enjoy it. I haven’t been to a festival since I was a kid.” She set the list down looked straight at him. “Are you going to any of these?”

“Some,” he said. “I’m expected at Minamoto’s tea house in two days for the first of many summer parties. That’s all I’ve committed to.”

“Shōfū-an? I’ve heard the building and its grounds are lovely.”

He bobbed his head back and forth. “Indeed they are. I’ve been many times. Our families have been connected for generations.”

She chewed the corner of her lip, a nervous tell he only saw in the most stressful of negotiations. “Would it be improper to invite myself to this? Will it be a small party?”

“No,” he said, pulling back in surprise. “No, it’s a big party and people will be in and out all day. I’m sure if you want to attend, I could speak to Minamoto and his wife. They would be happy to have you.”

“Great.” She smiled widely at him and stood up, ending their meeting quicker than he anticipated. “I’m looking forward to it already.”

She was fishing for an invitation from him, and he completely missed her advances. She told him months later how nervous she was and how stupid she felt for inviting herself along.

At the summer party, she stayed independent of him the entire time except for a ten minute conversation they had next to the pond in the back of the teahouse. He doesn’t even remember what they talked about, probably the fish swimming in the pond and the food served at the party.

When he returned to Sakai building later that evening with his family, Mariko pulled him aside before he climbed the stairs to his penthouse apartment.

“Uh, Mark. You do realize Lucinda Coen is interested in you, right?”

“How do you mean?”

Mariko sighed and rolled her eyes. She was always complaining all the men around her were blind.

“Trust me,” Mariko said. “She likes you.”

“You’re delusional. We work together. That’s it.”

“I’m telling you. The way she talked to you, her smile, and the fact she invited herself to the party all say it louder than I am right now. You should ask her out on a date.”

“A date?” His eyebrows rose straight to his hairline. “Ms. Coen doesn’t date.”

Mariko shook her head, her bun bobbing at her neck. “Maybe because no one bothers to ask her. You know, she’s a human being. A woman. You should give it a shot.”

He watched her intently for a whole month before he saw what Mariko saw in an instant. The situation was tricky, though. They were, in essence, co-workers, and if they started dating, their relationship would be a problem for the other clan members. They would doubt his impartiality. It was one reason he hadn’t dated since Junko and Charlotte’s death. Everyone was connected somehow.

He struggled with his desire to ask her out for weeks, but he couldn’t pass her up. Sakai loved redheads — always had — and a woman as powerful and in control of herself as Lucy made it harder to say no.

A long day of dividing up recently emptied property ended abruptly when two representatives from other kus needed to attend to a fire in their districts. Left alone with hours to spare, Lucy invited him over for dinner. Her hand shook as she casually tossed out the invite. She pressed her fingers against her desk as Sakai accepted. She made a mock beef stew and salad all by herself, sending her staff away for the evening. He couldn’t remember the last time they were alone together, and they talked easily, lightly, like they had been best friends for years. Over drinks on the couch, she set down her wine glass, looked straight at him with her deep green eyes, and said, “Kiss me, Mark.”

His job was to read people, to know everything there was to know about a situation, and he never saw the attraction coming. It hit him as fast as an express train. Once he had her in front of him, her breath heaving in anticipation, he knew this was what he needed. This was what was missing from his life.

He kissed her, lightly at first, then more earnestly as her body shook. She was close to tears the way her bottom lip quivered under his. Lucinda Coen cries? He didn’t believe it. She never showed emotion unless it was appropriate for the situation, a skilled politician. Yet she was plucking at the buttons on her shirt with fingers that trembled so badly, she grunted in frustration.

Forgetting she was always in charge, Sakai wrenched her shirt up in one go, popping the buttons off. He grabbed her hips and swiftly pulled her under him, and she let out a squeal and a giggle so sweet, they never made it to the bedroom. Well, not the first time.

“I’ve been celibate for almost eight years. A very long eight years. The last time I tried to date, it was a scandal.”

Sakai remembered that. She dated an artist for a short time, and the media hounded her at every event, every dinner, every time she stepped out of her apartment. She was so bothered by their voracity, she secluded herself. All her assistants shopped for her, she never attended anything socially, and the artist married a musician six months after they broke up.

Sakai laid in her bed quietly, letting her talk and trace his tattoos lightly with the tips of her fingers. It took another round of sex to confess she was the first woman he had slept with in ten years. Ten long years of his own.

Now, when they don’t have sex, it feels like a wasted opportunity to make up for all the years they didn’t have each other. This was the first night in two years he came to her for comfort and a warm body to sleep next to. Where is his rock solid heart?

He stares up at her ceiling, listening to the NNS broadcast from the room next door. Life doesn’t sit still. Time keeps going. He needs to remove his own wants and needs now before getting on with this day. What he wants from life is irrelevant. Now is the time to serve others.

—-

He arrives at the dōjō fifteen minutes early. The message from Lucy’s office was sent, and Robert Starr, Sanaa’s boss, messaged back to Lucy’s office that Sanaa was relieved of her position. He seemed concerned about losing one of his star employees, though. He even begged to have her reinstated. Sakai sighed looking at the correspondence Lucy had forwarded. “Sanaa works long hours, is well-liked, smart and dependable. Please tell me you’ll be sending her back whenever she’s done with this special assignment.”

And here he is, going against her aunts’ wishes, taking her from her job and life she is obviously invested in, and throwing her in front of a political train wreck. His collar is exceptionally tight, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he tries to swallow. Is it nerves? He’s nervous about dealing with her. What’s she going to be like? How will she react? He expects her to yell, scream, and storm out. That’s what Junko would have done. She never let anyone tell her what to do.

Sakai arranges memories with real observations in his mind to form a whole picture of Sanaa before she walks in the door. She’s a smaller version of her mother with paler skin and rounder eyes. Her hair is longer, her freckles are more pronounced, and she seems sturdier in a way Junko never did. Must be all the karate. He’s never spoken directly to her but heard her voice on New Year’s Eve as she talked with Jiro.

The door creaks open at ten, and Sakai steps back into the shadows to watch her enter. He should have stood in front of the window so he wouldn’t scare her, but it’s too late now. Sanaa lightly shuts the door behind her, and grasping her bag strap across her body, she swings her head side-to-side. Sakai closes his eyes and concentrates for a moment. Her hair is twisted up at the back of her neck, the same way her mother wore it. This is going to be harder than he thought.

“Excuse me? Is anyone here?” Her voice bounces off the walls and rapidly dies against the mats squishing at her feet. She stops for a brief moment and looks down, crinkling her nose and mouth in displeasure, the ‘no shoes on the mat’ rule broken.

“Sanaa Griffin,” Sakai says, and his voice is unnaturally loud in his throat, scaring Sanaa so badly she jumps and clutches at her chest. He steps forward into the light from the window and recognition sweeps across her face. He didn’t think it was likely she’d forget him, his style being fairly unique. There are not many older Japanese men in her life, and they only met for the first time a few days ago.

“You. I know you. Mark Sakai, right?”

“Yes, Sanaa. A pleasure to meet you again.” He smiles at her, but she doesn’t reciprocate. Instead she clutches the bag strap tighter.

“What’s going on here?” she asks, her voice even and annoyed. Good, no fear.

“I believe you got a message from Chief Administrator Coen’s office?”

“Yes, I did. But… you’re to be my new boss? What do you do?”

He tilts his head and studies her. He wasn’t expecting calm, even questions.

“I am involved in… a variety of things. You’ll be working with me for a while.”

“I already have a job.”

“With the Colonization Committee? Not anymore.”

Her body deflates, her face growing pale, and Sakai’s stomach twists. Shit. He knew was going to do this to her, take her away from everything, but seeing her disappointment is a lot worse than imagining it.

She clears her throat, a little child-like hiccup, and lets her hands fall down at her side. “Why? What will I be doing for you?”

“This is more of a question of what you will be doing for yourself not for me, but, for now, you’ll follow my instructions.”

Sakai watches her, gauging her reaction to this sudden change. Will she fight him? Fight, flight, or acquiesce?

“Look, whoever you are. I’d like to know…” She stops as he steps towards her. He felt the rebelliousness coming, and expecting an all-out brawl, he stepped closer so she could lay into him, an instinctual move. He never stepped away from an argument with her mother. He let her yell and scream until he had to stop her from lashing out.

The dynamics with Sanaa are totally different. Sakai is over forty years old, and Sanaa is only twenty. He is not an equal, he’s an authority figure. She dashes her eyes to the floor, murmuring apologies and shuffling her feet.

Oh no. This will not do. He needs her to be strong and full of fire to deal with the men she’ll need to work with, not meek.

“Don’t play submissive with me, Sanaa. You are here to learn from me. Be my student, not my slave.” When she meets his eyes again, they’re more confident. “How you got here is irrelevant. This is your new job, your new life. Everyone will believe you still work for the Colonization Committee, but instead, you work with me. You are not to speak of what you learn at your new job to anyone else. These… lessons are for your benefit only.”

Lessons? More like the whole truth.

His heart aches. She’s upset about losing her job, her face panicked and her eyes watery, on the verge of tears but not tipping over. Sakai sees Lomo here. Sanaa got her sense of duty and dedication from Kimie, but her passion and love from Lomo. When Sanaa was little, right after her mother died, she used to spend all of the family gatherings clinging to Lomo’s lap, crying into her shoulder for her mother. Lomo would rub her back and rock her side to side until she fell asleep. Junko and Max’s deaths were hard on everyone, but they hit Sanaa like an anvil.

“Lessons? I haven’t been in school for four years.”

Her voice snaps Sakai back from the past, now unsure of today’s path. Perhaps he shouldn’t spring everything on her in one day?

“Well,” Sakai begins, walking to his right, the movement distracting himself from his memories. “You may not be in school anymore, but you have much to learn. Where you are going and what you will be doing, the decisions you will make, will all depend on what you learn with me. You have grown up around people your whole life, but you do not know people. You live your life amongst your few friends and your aunts but you never travel outside your circles. You are sheltered.”

He’s just given away a lot of information about Sanaa, information he has no right knowing, and her anger bubbles up to the surface before evaporating in a flash. She’s disappointed because she knows it’s true.

He stands at the window, watching the lunchtime traffic in the streets, and keeps his face passive, though he wants to bend down and ask, beg, for her forgiveness. He wants to sweep her into a hug. He wants to lock her away in a room so she’ll never be changed. It was his goal to come in here and not react to Sanaa, but it’s impossible. Every movement she makes, every little thing she does evokes a memory or comparison. He wanted to be unbiased, but he is skewed.

“This has been your life for twenty years, and in two years time, this will all change for you. Will change for everyone. I’m sorry to say your time as an engineer has come to an end. Now it’s time you learned about the other side of Nishikyō, about the other side of you. There is a way of life here that must be protected, at all costs, and forces at work that will try to fight against the system we’ve worked so hard to build. You will help me keep the peace.”

He’s decided this is as far as he’ll go today. She’s fragile, much more than he expected her to be. If he tells her everything today, it’ll break her in ways he won’t be able to fix. Maybe tomorrow, once the shock of losing her job has faded.

“I’m confused. Who are you? And why the hell am I here?” Sanaa’s voice is high and clipped. Her hands ball into fists, and she rolls her eyes at him before looking around the room. “I hate the fact that you’re telling me things without really telling me anything! Is this a joke? Because I’m nobody.”

This hurts Sakai more than all the other parts of this crazy situation. This girl should know who she is. She should have grown up with the knowledge of who her family is and how important they are. If things had gone differently, he would have been right by her mother’s side, helping her grow into her position.

Sakai leans in and looks hard into her eyes, and she does not draw back. Every bit of her exceptional genes are right here, the curve of her forehead, her fine arched eyebrows, her small nose and chin. Not exceptionally regal, but exceptional in its uniqueness, even if she is so like her mother. He may not doubt his choices if he saw more of Max here, but Sakai hears her father’s voice, nonetheless. The voice of dissent.

“No. No, you are not.” You are most definitely somebody, Sanaa.

He turns from her as the blush on her face grows. “Tomorrow, we begin.”