Chapter 4

That end of January ended as it started: icy. The cold air looked like a warrior, carrying a deadly bladed weapon, ready to cut and kill. Stories of people being slaughtered not only by troops at war but also by the terrible and cruel power of nature circulated non-stop, looking like death and its scythe, disturbing, and whispering fear in every living being.

Despite this, the atmosphere was calm. It was as if the war did not bother everyone who was there. Now, they knew it was a won war, Japan and its invincible army had joined with the canny Hitler and the dynamic Mussolini. Both fascism and Nazism seemed to be just sides of the same coin that fit, with praise, the Japanese mentality of superiority.

Not what Shiromiya thought that way. He just wasn't worried. The pain and violence that he had lived for years, anesthetized him. So, his biggest concern, at that moment, was to hear the end of the story that Nana was telling, wrapped in a blanket and sitting at the lady's feet.

"So, Nana? What did he do?"

The story was about two young lovers. He, very rich and powerful; and she, an orphaned maid. Both fall in love, but as in any good drama, they were separated by traps imposed by the boy's mother. Years later, they got married and another villain appeared, wanting to destroy her. Once again, their love was put to the test[15].

The old woman cleared her throat and finished:

"He saved her from the villain, of course. It killed the villain and they both lived happily ever after."

Kazu and wiped his watery eyes. Nana always rewarded him with good stories, when he got every step of the dance right. On another day, she had told him about the love of an elf and a man who fell in love and had to live in darkness because of that love[16].

"That kind of love exists, Nana-baba[17] ?"

The woman shrugged.

"Love is more destructive than hate, Shiro " was sincere. " The only way to avoid pain is not to fall in love."

Shiro shook his face.

"But I love Aiko-san," he said. " And that feeling just makes me happy!"

The old woman laughed.

"It was just what I needed, one more idiot in love with that one," she scolded, despite the excited smile on her lips.

Shiromiya's reply was interrupted by Mamoru's entry.

"Shiro, we need to talk."

Kazue stood up. The shining eyes focused on his protective angel, and he approached, anxious.

"Do you want to dance tonight?"

It was the night of Shin Sakamoto's birthday. Preparations had been underway for a week now, and that Saturday morning had started with some hired employees finishing the ornamentation work.

Shiro knew in advance how important that event was to Aiko. The young courtier was anxious and nervous, constantly bringing his nails to his lips to bite them. It had been months since he last saw his friend. He looked homesick and elated by the encounter.

"I don't know if I'm ready," he said frankly. "But if Mamoru-san wants me to dance, I will dance with all my heart."

Aiko smiled at the answer. Shin liked the news, he liked art. He knew that his friend traveled leagues just to visit museums or watch a good play. When Shiro entered the stage, he would surprise everyone.

That evening would be restricted to guests invited especially for the occasion. "Shin acquaintances", as Mamoru used to call it since Sakamoto's only friends were Aiko and Ryo.

In the afternoon, Keiko went to Aiko to inform her that it would be her last night at Ai. Combine she would play for Shiro, along with Nana. Everything was coming together perfectly, the plans impeccably aligned.

When the night began to show signs of arrival, Aiko was already standing, at the entrance to the house Ai, dressed in his best kimono, holding a bouquet that he had chosen for Shin. In the end, be ready to welcome the guests so early turned out to be of value, as Sakamoto appeared before the sun went down.

Aiko was surprised when the gate opened. He noticed that Shin was a little thinner, with deep dark circles and looked staggering. Had he been drinking? Worried, he ran to his friend, bringing him into his arms, in a comforting and intense affection.

"Shin-chan ... " he murmured in his ears. He wanted to say many more things, but the mouth respected the orders of the brain and he was silent.

He felt Shin's strong hands squeezing him, the bodies so close together that they looked like one. But then Shin pushed him away. The smell of sake irritated his nose.

"Did you drink?" Asked the obvious.

Shin just looked at him angrily.

"And since when do I give you the freedom to question what I do?"

Aiko was amazed at the words because even when he drank, Shin did not tend to be aggressive towards him.

"What happened, Shin-chan?"

Shin seemed to want to take two steps forward, but he lost his balance. Aiko supported him.

"You need a bath ..." he said, firmly. " Let's go to my room."

In the distance, Nana watched them. Mamoru saw in her eyes the bitterness and hatred she felt for the member of the imperial family but ignored her. He took Shin up to his room, shouting for the women to bring hot water to put in a huge wooden tub that he had on site. He rarely used it, preferring the hot tub, which was in a wooden bathtub on the right side of the residence, but it didn't seem like a good idea to leave Shin in that state to deal with his women.

Midori and Rika brought the hot water in a few minutes. Head down, they filled the tub and ran away, before Sakamoto could use his feline tongue against one of them.

Aiko looked at him as soon as they were alone. Shin was sitting in a chair, his head down, almost asleep. Then he pulled it out and started unbuttoning his official coat. When his hands opened his pants, he shivered. He observed if Shin had noticed his reaction, but the other's blank look made it clear that he was not paying any attention to his actions.

He guided him to the hot water and made him sit in the tub. He took a sponge and slid it on Shin's back, lathering it vigorously.

"Nothing like a hot bath, né Shin-chan? " brought up the subject, eager to make him smile. "How was your trip through the interior of Japan?

Sakamoto took about ten seconds to answer.

"I was in Korea."

The imperial army had occupied Korea in 1910. Mamoru imagined that things were calm there since it had been about 30 years since everything - including people - belonged to Japan.

"You didn't tell me you were going to Korea," he said. " Please, when traveling abroad, send a missive. I'm always worried about you."

Shin threw his head back. The back of his neck lightly touched Aiko's forehead.

"The Emperor needs ore and other things that we don't have in our country," he said seriously. It seemed to Mamoru that the effect of the drink was wearing off. " I had no choice but to visit some factories there ...

The other nodded.

"And how are things there?"

This time he received no answer. Shin stood up. Aiko understood and soon sought a towel ha, helping him.

"Do you want to rest just before the party?�� He asked. "Several acquaintances confirmed their presence, and Ryo-san sent a beautiful dark kimono as a gift."

Shin didn't seem to hear him.

"I made the dishes you like best and bought imported sake and wine."

Once again, silence reigned. Respectful, Mamoru helped him to the futon, and when Shin lay down, he left the room, apprehensive.

***

The ballroom was filled with people. Mamoru smiled at everyone, in his eternal doc and welcoming attitude. Accustomed to receiving customers, he gave each one due attention, asking about their families, health, and their businesses. He showed interest when he didn't feel it. The inquiries were always just an extra courtesy, which made him dear to each of the regulars, Tokyo's most respected host.

After circling the hall, he walked to the door. His eyes went to one of the houses on the land, his room. Shin had not yet appeared, even thanking him for the party, and did not show any desire to participate in the event. He was disappointed and hurt, but he swallowed the cry that broke out in his throat.

"Send him out of here, Mamoru," heard Nana's feminine tone behind him.

He turned to the woman.

"We already talked about it, Nana!"

The woman pulled him by the arm, pulling him out of the room. When they were both alone in the courtyard, she spoke again, quietly but demanding:

"I just want to put a little judgment in that hollow head!" complained. "Shin Sakamoto is in his room, alone! What if he sees what he shouldn't? What will you do, kid?"

Aiko dodged it, but it was held tightly, I knew then that I would not escape.

"I know the risks, Nana! " defended himself. " But, I won't walk away from Shin! " persevered. " It would be even stranger if I asked him not to look for me anymore, no? What do you think he would think? At the very least, he would want to know the reasons why his best friend abandoned him.

Nana denied it.

"He wouldn't even care. Aiko, he doesn't love you, he doesn't love anyone. Shin only sees himself. He might be confused, but he would soon find another to call a friend. He only looks for you because you treat him like a god, the only reason. Wake up, my dear ..."

Somehow, Aiko understood those words as true. However, he did not accept them. Dodging the fingers that insisted on holding him, he returned to the drawing-room. Still in conflict, he looked around the room, when he noticed Shin sitting at the usual table, with Midori on his lap.

The sight bothered him, but he kept his apparent calm. Walking to Shin and smiled at his friend. The smile, however, faded when he realized that Shin was drinking again, like crazy.

"Do you wanna eat something?" He asked, sitting down next to him. Then he looked at Midori. "Bring the sashimi for Shin to try. Mochi too, I know Shin like it."

Shin didn't even look up, completely focused on the drink. Midori got off his lap and headed for the kitchen. Shin did not try to stop her, he seemed unaware of everything that happened around him. However, when he went to serve himself and sake again, Mamoru held his hands.

"Speak, Shin," he said quietly.

"There's nothing to talk about."

"We both know there is. What did you do so that you cannot be forgiven?"

Only then did Sakamoto look at him. He was not surprised that Aiko could decipher it so easily and just smiled sadly at the truth.

"Nothing that any other man in wartime won't do," he whispered.

Mamoru understood instantly.

" Where was? In Korea?"

" We were visiting a factory. There was a woman there, maybe twenty-years-old. She was finished, thin, weak, hungry. But even so, she drew strength from who knows where to turn in the direction of my party and curse us."

Aiko remained silent, waiting for him to proceed.

"The men then picked her up and took her to the factory director's office. They tied their legs and arms to the wall and made a line. I watched it for the time it lasted until my turn came."

Aiko released his hands. He felt disgusted and did not want to hear any more, but Shin looked at him seriously and realized that he could not escape.

"I just followed the flow. It was what was expected of me, wasn't it? Besides, she was just a Korean ... Who cares about Koreans?"

He drank again. Suddenly, he shivered.

"The next day, I went back to the factory and her body was there, still tied up. They had killed her during the night."

"Shin ..."

"Since then, I only get some peace when I'm drinking. Even in my dreams, the bitch comes to haunt me " he laughed. " I never thought how weak I am."

He would never admit guilt, but Mamoru saw it in his dark eyes. He wanted to say something, but Midori came back and he refused to talk about that horror in front of her. He faced the Japanese woman and walked away.

Ever since he took over Ai, he tried to take care of prostitutes in the only way he could. He maintained a rigid regime of immutable norms under them. Clients were selected and, if any act in disagreement with the rules, they were summarily crossed off the list, with no chance of return.

House Ai was known by the region as the cleanest and most welcoming environment possible. Men felt loved by the women who were there, a rare thing at that time. At House of Love, there was time for their problems to be heard, and sex used to be an art of conquest and passion.

They were so deluded by the friendly aspect of the environment that they barely noticed the two security guards at the gate, who worked there every night, staring at them severely. There was always music, good food, and company. It was a male paradise, none of which bothered to pay dearly to enjoy.

Most of the women who passed through House came from the street, where the rules were terrible. Many arrived with bruised and mortally wounded souls. Most of them never recovered, living in an eternal interior hell, until their exterior life, at last, took its final breath.

Very early, Aiko learned that he couldn't save everyone. Knowing how to turn away and pretend not to see was the least a person could do to try to maintain their sanity.

He went to the exit and watched the movement inside. He saw Midori stroking Shin's hair, silent, and understanding, obedient to what he had learned. He closed his eyes, refusing to look at that action that seemed to cut his heart.

"I'm going to the stage," Nana said behind him. "Shiro is ready to enter."

He turned to the old woman.

"How's he doing?"

"We put on the most beautiful kimono we had and the black wig that your mother wore. Makeup made him even more feminine. Nobody in here will believe it if we say it's a man."

"Leave the box ready, because I am sure he will receive many gifts from his new fans. I highly doubt anyone will be enchanted " he smiled.

***

Nana sat on the wooden stage floor. Her back hurt, but there was a youthful vibe to her when she held Shamisen.[18]. Beside her, Keiko smiled. With Koto[19] in her hands, she waited for Nana's wrinkled hands to start the beautiful melody. There was a respectful silence in the air, broken only by the heavy breaths of the men who were watching the composition carefully. Everything was dark, in the pitch. Only one or the other candlelit their faces. Mamoru smiled at the idyllic setting he had created.

But as soon as the first chords became audible, the stage lit up right at the point where a small geisha appeared. She was on her knees, a white cloth in front of her, her face down, her delicate hands propped on her legs, her eyes calm and kind.

There were some muffled exclamations in the face of so much beauty. There was something that bordered on ecstasy in men, instant admiration. Mamoru looked away from the stage and faced the audience. Since his mother died, he hadn't seen anything like it at House Ai.

He looked back at the stage again. Smiled at Shiro when he realized that the youngest was looking at him. He was scared, he sensed the almond-shaped eyes. But even so, there was a beauty in him that nothing could match.

The music sounded louder, and when he saw him rise. One hand dancing like a snake in Eden and the other holding a floral fan. The light steps were first on the right, a spin, and then he went on the left, the fan swinging in the air; now with strength, now with delicacy.

The song became more intense, and then Shiro seemed to make love to the melody. There was a sudden climax, where his steps picked up speed. And then, as surprising as it started, it was over. The sound of Koto and Shamisen ended in the same instant that Shiro fell to the ground as if he were being crushed by all the wars, all the bitterness, all the pain in the world.

Aiko's eyes filled with tears, but he was not the first to rise. Clapping was not common in houses like Ai - and, indeed, nowhere in Japan - but there was not a single man who did not stand up. They all seemed amazed and delighted, in the same proportion.

However, the muse of all the dreams that formed that night did not remain in the environment to receive greetings. The light went out again and, as agreed, Shiromiya went out the side door.

In seconds, he was in the hall. He ran to Mamoru's room because he knew the boss would go to him to evaluate his performance. He tore off the wig, since the clips hurt, and sat down on the chair. However, he didn't have to wait long for air. About five minutes later, Aiko's bedroom door opened.

"I've never seen anything like it ... Nothing," Mamoru said, pulling him into his arms. "You are perfect, my love."

Shiro hugged him happily. He leaned his face against his idol's firm chest and inhaled his perfume.

Suddenly, however, ironic clapping appeared. He looked up and faced a frightening-looking man, looking cold and imposing.

***

The sound behind him made Mamoru jump. He looked at Shin and saw his possessed eyes as if he were committing the worst of crimes in embracing the little one. He shuddered at the hatred, and gently pushed Kazue back.

Shiro turned away, embarrassed. He looked sad for the distance, but soon his gaze went back to the door and he looked at Shin, who maintained an air of extreme arrogance, even though he was drunk.

"So, the beautiful and charming geisha is a boy?"

Shin took two steps forward, approaching dangerously. The cruel look measured him, without mercy. It was as if he was looking for defects in his fragile body and, finding none, he became even more irritated.

"Shiro is his name," Aiko said. "I found him some time ago and Nana taught him to dance. Today was his first performance, and he did it especially for his birthday."

Mamoru's soft phrase was intended to appease Sakamoto's spirits. Understanding the intent immediately, the effect on Shin was the reverse.

"The only thing that interests me about a boy like that is not dancing, Mamoru," he said, pulling Shiro by the arm. "Get out," he ordered.

Aiko never refused Shin anything. The imposing heir of the Sakamoto family had always been frank in what he wanted, and Mamoru struggled to do what he wanted, without even thinking about it. It was as if they had a silent agreement, something between them that had never been contested or questioned. However, when he saw the look of horror that Shiro acquired, he held him on the other arm.

"Let go," he asked.

However, the voice was weak. It was the first time in those many years that Mamoru was known and objected to the man, and there was an irrational fear about him in the act. What would he do if Shin hated he for it? Aiko couldn't see him go ... He couldn't take it. Life was too terrible to never see the face he loved so much.

It was then that he noticed Shiromiya staring at him. And above that, he noticed that the boy could read his soul and understand his feelings. Poor Shiro made himself available for sacrifice, for anything that would alleviate Aiko's guilt and fear.

" Don't worry, Aiko-san " Shiro murmured. " I will not stay here."

Shin's laugh was diabolical. He was ridiculing the boy.

"I'll make sure you are, sweetie." Shiro's arm tightened even more.

But Aiko understood what Shiromiya declared. Kazue might be being abused again, however, his mind and soul would be in his lost childhood, playing with the ear of corn he considered his friend, and in his mother's lap.

Feeling the air missing in his lungs, Mamoru turned his back and left the room.

** *

Mamoru sat on the wooden floor. He was in front of the door of his room, listening to Sakamoto's continuous sound. He hid his face in his hands, shocked, anguished, defeated. But it was not just his conscience that crushed him, Nana had heard the whole conversation in the room and appeared before him, disgusted.

"I spent many nights thinking about the reasons you tolerate this, Mamoru. " Her voice was firm. " I thought you loved Sakamoto, but I don't believe it very much since what I saw is not love, but a disease."

Aiko's tears started to run down his pale skin. He looked at the old woman.

"Then I thought it was just a survival instinct. Now, if he had a very close relationship with the Emperor's dear protégé, you would be automatically excluded from any suspicion. Later, I imagined it was fear. If investigated, Shin Sakamoto would immediately be notified by the family, and he would come to you and prevent you before it was too late. I thought that was the answer: you were afraid and you wanted a chance to escape. But then I woke up to life. You are just a coward blinded by passion. An unrequited love that makes him be manipulated like a doll by Sakamoto. You, Aiko Mamoru, taint your mother's memory, taint the woman she was, and I'm ashamed that one day I changed your diapers."

The hard and cold criticism was the trigger for Aiko to finally explode. He got up and marched towards the door.

***

When Aiko left the room, Shiro was released by Shin. Then he walked over to the futon and removed his kimono. The whole action was carried out with the face down, embarrassed. He never looked at his executioners, because he believed that afterward, he could never forget their faces. He had this certainty in him, for he still remembered every detail of the face of the first man who had submitted him. He still could smell his disgusting smell and his wet mouth. In his nightmares, he found him in the halls, and he always raped him again.

"Very beautiful " Shin admired his forms. "Lay down."

Shiro didn't blink. He lay down on the futon and turned on his back. He held the quilt tightly and closed his eyes. Shiro knew beforehand that the pain was extremely strong and it came with unbearable speed. He felt Sakamoto kneeling behind him and lifting his hips. He clenched his teeth to keep from screaming and heard the man's groans, who seemed to be enjoying the experience very much.

He had already felt a lot of pain at all other times. Shiro remembered when his brother had sold him to three brothers who kept him in bed all night. He remembered an old man who stuck a thin piece of wood into him because he couldn't get hard ... he remembered how many times he was hurt until he almost passed out from the pain. This time, however, the pain was different. It was a mixture of disgust and pity ... Even there, at that moment, he still thought of the despair in the eyes of his angel Mamoru.

Sakamoto's speed increased, and he felt the man's big hands squeezing his head against the futon. He didn't scream, not even when the air started to run short. He could die there, in that instant, he didn't care.

Then he heard the knock on the door. Aiko's voice reached him, but he didn't have the strength to rise. He felt Shin coming out of himself, not yet finished. The man went to the door and opened it. Aiko entered, pushing him and ran to the bed. Then Mamoru's fingers caressed his skin, and he covered it. The tearful voice reached him, and the apology he heard from Aiko almost made him laugh.

Why apologize? He would do it a million times, if necessary so that Mamoru would not feel sad.

"It was the worst fuck of my life," heard Shin's voice. Only then did he look at him and notice the hatred in her eyes. What had he done to attract such anger? "Looks like I had sex with a lifeless doll."

Aiko stood up. His face was red, I had never seen him like this.

"Go away," he said.

"I? Send that kid away!" Shin shouted, pointing at Shiro. "I sleep here, and you know it!"

"Get out of my house! " shouted. "Disappear from here, and never come back!"

Both Shiro and Shin were amazed at the order. Everyone who knew Aiko knew of his devotion to Sakamoto. He lived each day for the sake of his best friend's happiness. There was nothing to prepare Shin for that.

"Apologies, Mamoru, and I will forgive you," Shin said, his voice strangled.

"Get out or I'll have the security guards take you by force."

"You know that if you dare, I send Kempeitai to invade Ai House and destroy everything ... I send you to prison, kill you!" He threatened, screaming.

Mamoru approached. Their faces were almost glued together, the pungent anger escaping them.

"Do it! I am not afraid of you! Now go after your mercenaries and send them here. I will be waiting, I will die if I need to be, but I swear on Kami-sama and my mother's memory that you will never touch a finger on anyone in Ai House again!"

Shin raised his hand to slap Aiko, however, something stopped him and he stopped before reaching the goal. Biting his lips in anger, he left the room and the property like a madman.

As soon as he was gone, Nana appeared at the door. She looked at Aiko seriously, and they both seemed to talk with the look.

"No, he will not call Kempeitai" Mamoru said, not so sure. "He would never do that."

"What if I do?"

"I'll see everything on the bright side, Nana," he smiled. " Perhaps death is better than this endless anguish.

The woman nodded and both remained silent. Returning to the futon, they spent the rest of the night looking after Shiro.