Matsuo glanced over his shoulder at the coast, now so far behind them. The bathers were barely visible near the shore, and the neighboring Okumo and Mazaki houses were mere blotches on the hillside. Even now, on a beautiful, sunny Sunday afternoon, the Tosei-ha was meeting at the Mazaki house to confer on how to turn the China situation to its advantage.
He turned back to Meiko and drank in the sight of her as she nestled her chin on her arm where it rested on the gunwale and gazed into the shimmering water. She was everything he wanted in life. The Tosei-ha could offer him nothing. All he wanted was right here with him in this little boat.
Let them plot and plan. I'm where I want to be.
* * *
Hiroki stood at the far end of the garden and gazed down the slope at the calm expanse of Sagami Bay. Father, Toyama, and the other members of the Tosei-ha sat behind him at the tables near the house. To his right he could hear the chatter and clatter from the Mazaki kitchen as the servants gossiped and cleaned up after the midday meal. Lots of sails dotted the bay, tiny white confetti on a field of blue-green.
Meiko was down there.
Meiko and his brother.
They saw a lot of each other, those two. He wondered why that didn't concern him. Perhaps it was because he had watched them when they were together and saw that they acted more like old friends, more like brother and sister, than secretive lovers.
He knew it should have bothered him. His brother and his future wife shared something apart from him, something special that excluded him. Why wasn't he jealous?
Because she was with Matsuo. His brother was an honorable man, totally devoted to his family. He would die rather than bring a breath of scandal to the family. If he could not trust Meiko with Matsuo, then he could trust her with no one.
He sighed. And to be completely honest, perhaps it served his purposes to have Meiko occupied with Matsuo. Too much happening too fast these days. The headlong pace of events would not screech to a halt and wait for him to marry. A wedding would be such a distraction now.
And yet... perhaps he had better bring up the subject with Meiko. Perhaps set a date. Next spring. Maybe things would quiet down by next spring.
He would ask her soon. But not today. Perhaps tomorrow. By next week, for sure.
The chatter of the servants in the kitchen distracted him for a moment. They were gossiping about how the Countess Mazaki's new green kimono had to be returned because she had grown another size since she had been fitted for it. He smiled and shook his head. No secrets in a house with too many servants.
Before turning back to the Tosei-ha and the Chinese question, he took one last look at the bay, wondering which sailboat held Meiko and Matsuo.
* * *
Meiko sensed Matsuo watching her. She watched him in turn, sitting there by the tiller in his loose light blue shirt and his white shorts, like the captain of a battleship.
They had become so close, had seen so much of each other during her father's recovery period, that no one in the Mazaki household, either here at the bay or in Tokyo, seemed to pay much attention to his frequent comings and goings whenever he was released from his duties at Naval Intelligence. He had become a fixture around the house, as unnoticed as the fusama and shoji that slid back and forth to join and divide the rooms. Meiko was well satisfied with that arrangement.
And yet, as close as they were, a wall remained between them. A wall of on. They might occasionally hold hands through a chink in that wall, but she knew that Matsuo's on to his brother and his respect for Meiko's on to her father and her family honor prevented him from surrendering to the passion she sensed within him.
"We are alone," he said.
Casually, as if he did it every day, he reached out with his foot and stroked one of her bare soles with his great toe. A thrill ran up her leg and spread through her pelvis.
She smiled and pulled her foot away. "No relatives, no nosy servants. Just us. That's nice."
Much more than nice—dreamlike. To one side sat the smoking volcano of Mihara, on the other the watchful snow-capped peak of Mount Fuji, and all around, the gently rippling water of Sagami Bay. Nature seemed to be putting on a show especially for them.
Suddenly, Meiko heard laughter from the water. She raised her head and shielded her eyes against the glare. Finally she located the source.
"Look," she said, pointing to the east. "We're not alone after all.''
A small skiff floated at anchor perhaps a hundred yards away. As she watched, two people bobbed to the surface and dropped a number of gray-brown objects over the side into their boat. Then they climbed out…naked…one male and the other female. With little hesitation, they dove into the water again.
She bolted upright. "Oysters! They've found an oyster bed!" She looked at Matsuo. "Let's dive for our own!"
His eyes lit. "A feast!"
He turned the boat into the wind, then dropped the little three-tined anchor off the bow.
"Last one to bring up an oyster has to open them!" she cried.
Matsuo glanced at her and grinned. "You haven't a chance of winning."
"Is that so, Okumo-san?"
Meiko hesitated for a moment. It was customary to dive for oysters in the nude, but she hesitated to bare herself before Matsuo, afraid it might remove the last few flimsy barriers that kept them apart. She thought about it a moment, then decided she didn't care.
Let the kami of the bay and the boat decide what would happen.
* * *
Matsuo watched with dry-mouthed fascination as Meiko untied her obi, opened her kimono, and let it drop to the deck. For a moment she stood before him clad only in loose white silk panties. Her breasts were small but firm and full, their nipples erect. He caught a glimpse of her narrow waist, her tiny navel, the curve of her hips, and her skin—her skin was truly flawless. Then with a laugh and a wave she was over the side and into the water in a quick, clean dive.
He stood in the gently rocking boat, gaping at the rising bubbles and widening rings until the luffing sail knocked the boom into his back. He nearly tumbled overboard. He reminded himself that he had seen pearl divers before, doing their work in the nude, but he had never seen, never dreamed, never expected...
With trembling hands he stripped down to his fundoshi and dove in after her. As he knifed into the warm water, he caught sight of a pale blur rising to his right. He angled around and kicked back toward the surface.
"Where were you?" Meiko said, laughing and gasping. The water had plastered her hair along the sides of her head. She was more beautiful than ever.
"I just got in," he said as casually as he could. "Find any?"
"Not yet—but I will."
A breath, a graceful surface dive, and she was gone again. Matsuo dove after her.
The deeper he went, the cooler and darker the water became. But he could still see Meiko ahead of him. She reached bottom first and began to hunt over the rocks. He stroked down to a rock nearby but could not drag his gaze from her breasts, buoyant and bobbing as she turned this way and that; her silk briefs had become transparent in the water, revealing the dark mound of her pubes. He saw her grab at something, then lunge toward the surface.
With bursting lungs and heart, Matsuo followed her up.
* * *
Meiko held on to the gunwale and waited for Matsuo to appear.
"I found one!" she shouted as he broke the surface. She held up the dark, rough, oblong shell. "I'm first!"
She saw him frown sternly. "Let me see that." He swam to her side. "How do I know it's not just an empty shell."
"It's alive, all right!" she laughed. "And it has a pearl inside, I just know it."
He clung with one hand to the boat, and as he examined the oyster, his kicking legs brushed against hers, sending a thrill to her very core. She had seen him on the beach before and noticed his muscular physique. But she had never been this close. She watched the ripple of the muscles under his skin as he turned the shell this way and that. She f
ought an urge to reach out and feel them move under her hand. When he looked up from the shell she saw his eyes and wondered if her own desire showed as much as his.
She was suddenly afraid. It had been a game of sorts until now—the baring of flesh, the closeness in the water, the not-so-accidental touches—a reckless tempting of fate.
"Let's dive for more." she said. "There's a whole bed of them down there."
Matsuo didn't move. Neither did she. He dropped the oyster into the water between them. She saw it sink out of sight, twirling like a falling elm seed in spring.
"Meiko."
He put his free hand on her shoulder. His touch was hot; it sent a wave of warmth across her shoulders and down to her submerged breasts. He drew her near. When she felt her nipples brush against his chest, the warmth burst into flame.
She gave into it.
Yielding to Matsuo's pull, she slipped her arms around his neck and drew herself closer.
"This is wrong," he said in a hoarse whisper.
Realizing this was their last chance to stop, she said, "I know."
Their bodies pressed together, their lips met, and she forgot about last chances and stopping. She wanted Matsuo, wanted all of him, and knew he wanted her. Nothing else mattered now.
* * *
Matsuo delighted in Meiko's sigh as he ground his lips against hers. He had never felt like this... the electric euphoria of her breasts and legs and abdomen pressing against him. He wanted to wrap both arms around her and crush her even more tightly against him, but knew they would sink if he let go of the boat. So he gripped the gunwale with one hand and caressed her bare back and flanks with the other.
She moaned low in her throat as he squeezed his hand between their bodies and found her breast. From there he slid his fingers down to and then under the waistband of her briefs to the silky mound of her pubes. Electric pulses of pleasure surged through him as Meiko reached down and tugged at his fundoshi, loosening it. He kicked it free while slipping off her briefs.
And then he felt her seal herself against him with her arms around his neck and her legs wrapped tightly around his hips. She stiffened and cried out twice as he gently entered her, and then he turned so he could grip the gunwale with both hands. He glanced at Meiko as she clung between him and the boat, eyes closed, head thrown back, breath hissing through her teeth as she rode him up and down. Matsuo closed his own eyes and let the sun, the water, the sky, and the boat slip away until there was only Meiko and he. He felt the slow explosion building within him. He sensed Meiko stiffening, arching back, her legs tightening around him like a velvet vise. Suddenly she cried out and crushed her lips to his and he exploded within her.
Slowly, the world returned.
* * *
"Speak to me, Matsuo."
She lay sated and comfortable in the crook of his arm as he steered the boat back toward the land. He had been so quiet since they had climbed back into the boat. Her underpants and his fundoshi were gone, probably on the bottom of the bay, and so they were naked under their clothes. She shivered. The air was warm, but felt chilly after the heat of their lovemaking.
What was Matsuo thinking? Did he regret what had happened?
She wasn't quite sure of her own feelings. Joy and sadness tangled within her—the joy of knowing that even if she did have to spend the rest of her life with Hiroki, she would have this day to keep and cherish; the sadness of knowing the joy she would be missing all those years.
But Matsuo... he lived by such a strict code. Did he share a similar mix of feelings? Or was he filled with guilt? Did he hate her now? Did he feel that he had been seduced into betraying his brother and that she was to blame? If only he would say something.
"Did I seduce you?" she asked.
He nodded gravely.
That's not fair, she wanted to say, but stopped herself. Had that been what she had intended all along by removing her kimono and baring herself to him?
"Do you really believe that?"
He nodded again, but this time he smiled. "Yes, you seduced me. But not today. It was ten years ago last January, at the Hatsu-U-Mode festival."
She nearly melted with relief. Her hand was resting on his abdomen. She moved it down to his shorts. Through the white fabric she felt him swell and harden under her fingers.
It's like magic, she thought, stroking him gently.
She had perused her parents' pillow books in secret over the years but had never touched a man before today, and it was all so new.
Just like magic.
* * *
Tingling pleasure started at a white-hot center in his groin where Meiko caressed him and spread throughout Matsuo's body. Only one explanation for how he felt: He had drowned and had been carried off to Heaven. He didn't remember drowning, but only in Heaven could he feel like this.
I should hate myself.
Ever since they had climbed back into the boat, he had waited to be overwhelmed with self-loathing. And why not? He had vowed to love Meiko from afar and be satisfied with that. He had broken that vow. He had betrayed his brother's trust. He had sullied his family honor by deflowering his brother's bride-to-be.
He felt guilty, yes. But he didn't hate himself. He could, perhaps, justify this afternoon by saying that Hiroki no longer cared about his marriage to Meiko, that he had squandered his right to her by frequenting his prostitutes and their dark services, and by forgoing countless opportunities to set a new date. But to his surprise, Matsuo felt no need to go through moral and ethical gymnastics to save face with himself.
Because he loved Meiko. He loved her more than any woman in the world, and that seemed to be all he needed to know. He trailed his free hand up along her inner thigh to the slick moisture between her legs. She shuddered and bent her knee to make room for his fingers.
By the time they reached the shore below his family's house, they both were gasping with need. Matsuo beached the boat, pulled it up on the sand, and uncleated the mainsheet. Without waiting to make sure the sail slipped all the way down the mast, he grabbed Meiko's hand and led her up the hill at a run. He did not have to pull her. He led her to the ten-tatami garden cottage that had served as Nagata's quarters when he accompanied the family to Sagami Bay. It had been empty since his death.
He threw open the door and they leaped inside. It was hot and stuffy within but he barely noticed. The door wasn't even closed before she was in his arms and he was kissing her and they were pulling at each other's clothes, the seams of the garments protesting as they were discarded. A breeze swung the door open and as Matsuo reached to push it closed, he thought he saw someone out on the walk, behind the bushes. But he had only a fleeting glimpse before the door swung shut. He heard the latch catch and then he forgot about everything else, for Meiko was hot against him and her lips were searching for his.
* * *
Hiroki walked to the southeast corner of the garden and looked out on the bay once more. The Tosei-ha members had departed and now the sun was settling down the sky behind him. The beach below was still crowded. He saw a dinghy with its sail on the sand. It looked like the family boat, but Meiko and Matsuo were nowhere about.
As he scanned the bay, he noticed a sudden hush in the servants' area to his right. All the chatter had died away, leaving only one male voice speaking. With a start, he recognized it as Cho's. Wondering what the head servant of the Okumo household could be saying that would be of such interest to the Mazaki help, he edged closer to the window.
After hearing only a few sentences, he staggered away, feeling as if the ground were heaving under him in an earthquake.
Matsuo and Meiko... naked... together.
With rage screaming through him, Hiroki turned and ran down the path toward home. If it was true—and he knew with a sick, certain dread that it was—he would kill Matsuo. All this time pillowing with Meiko while he had not been allowed to touch her.
Kill him!
Visions of Matsuo's blurred fists attacking the soldiers who
came to kill Father last year swam before his eyes. He stopped. He was sure Matsuo would be too ashamed to defend himself... but what if he fought back?
Caution broke through the maelstrom of emotions storming around him. He fought for control. Even if he killed Matsuo—and Meiko, too—to feel his fingers around her throat!—he would only hurt Father more deeply by bringing notoriety as well as disgrace to the family.
He needed Father with him. If he found them now, on his own, he would have to bear the humiliation alone. If Father were there, however, the greater share of humiliation by far would be Matsuo's.
He turned and rushed up to where Father sat with the count.
* * *
"Oh, Matsuo," Meiko said as she lay beside him on the wooden plank floor and ran her fingers lightly along his jaw. The second time had been even more wonderful than the first. She felt so at peace with the world. "How can this be wrong?"
"Let's not talk about that. Let's just lie here and enjoy this while we can. Because very soon we'll have to go to our homes and pretend that nothing has happened."
"That will be the hardest part, won't it?"
She watched him nod solemnly. "It seems almost impossible to do. To see you and be with you and pretend that we're only friends. Can we do it?"
"We have to."
"Forever?"
"I can't imagine being apart from you forever."
"Then what are we going to do?"
Before Matsuo could answer, he heard footsteps outside. He was reaching for their clothes when the door flew open and the bright light of day fell upon them.
* * *
It's true!
Hiroki felt the world tilt around him as he and Father stared through the open door at Matsuo and Meiko on the floor of the garden cottage. He saw their nakedness, saw the swell of Meiko's breasts, the dark triangle between her legs, the wet gleam on her thigh, saw the shocked looks on their faces as they tried to cover themselves.
He wanted to shout, wanted to rush in and throttle them both. Betrayed! Made a fool of by his own brother. Rage crowded the corners of his vision, blind rage and—dare he admit it, even to himself?—lust. The sight of Meiko's naked body had aroused him so suddenly and so powerfully that he didn't know whether he wanted to beat her or rape her. Or both.