Villain a Novel (2010) (23 page)

“Are you serious?” she replied, so tense her chest hurt, feeling as if the man beside her was already tugging her clothes off. She’d met this guy less than ten minutes ago and yet she was acting this bold. She felt as if she were watching herself from a distance.

Yuichi, eyes fixed forward, nodded. She waited for him to say something, some clever, enticing words, but nothing came.

It had been a long time since she’d seen such open sexual desire. The last time she met a man who’d wanted her this much was back when she worked in the factory and one of the men on the same line who’d been there longer suddenly grabbed her in the parking lot. Mitsuyo had been friendly with him, but still she had struggled and run away. It had all been too sudden; but at the same time, she’d been hoping that something like that would happen, and was afraid he’d find out. She didn’t want to admit that that’s who she was, a girl waiting for a man to make his sudden, aggressive move.

Almost ten years had passed since then, and she’d mentally replayed that incident over and over. That moment may have decided the kind of life she had now. She felt as if it had changed her into the type of woman who sought out fierce sexual desire from men.

“Going to a hotel is fine with me,” Mitsuyo said calmly. Up ahead was a sign for the Saga Yamato interchange.

For some reason she pictured the apartment she shared with Tamayo—their comfortable, snug little place. But today the last thing she wanted was to go back there.

After their car passed the interchange, they headed over a highway overpass that tied all the rice fields below in a large bow and headed in the direction of Fukuoka. They must have been traveling fast, for the billboards and signs they passed sped by in shreds.

“There’s a hotel just up ahead.” As Yuichi murmured this, it hit Mitsuyo again:
Soon I’m going to have sex
.

Just then she spotted the sign for a love hotel, beyond the fallow fields. Mitsuyo turned to look at Yuichi. His hair wasn’t all that thick, and there was a small mole on his chin.

“Do you always take girls to a hotel right away?” she asked, not really caring about the answer. Yuichi had invited her to a hotel as soon as he met her and she’d accepted. That was all that was certain at this moment. Between the two of them right now, that was all that mattered.

“I don’t mind … if you always take girls to a hotel like this.”

A narrow road, almost hidden behind the sign, led to the hotel. Their car slowed down. Potted plants lined the road, not a single one with any flowers. The road led directly to the half-underground parking lot. They hadn’t passed any other cars on the way over from the interchange, but still the lot was nearly full.

They parked in the last space they could find. When Yuichi turned off the engine it was so silent they could hear each other swallow.

“It’s pretty crowded, isn’t it?” Mitsuyo said to break the silence. “Guess ’cause it’s Saturday.” As she said this she remembered last Saturday, and how a customer had complained because they’d made a mistake with the delivery date on some clothes that were being altered.

Yuichi had sped here without hesitating, but now that the car was stopped he didn’t make a move. He just sat there, staring at the key in his hand.

“I hope they have a room open,” Mitsuyo said, as casually as she could manage.

Yuichi, still looking down, muttered, “Yeah.”

“It’s kind of a strange feeling, since we just met and now look where we are.”

Mitsuyo’s voice sounded muffled in the closed car. The more she tried to convince herself that this was no big deal, the weaker her voice sounded.

“I’m sorry,” Yuichi suddenly said in a low voice.

“Why are you apologizing?” Mitsuyo was taken aback. “There’s no need to apologize,” she said. “It’s just that it was kind of sudden, so I was surprised. Women get those feelings, too, sometimes. And when they do, they want to hook up with somebody.”

The words came out all of a sudden. She couldn’t believe it was she saying this. Women want to have sex, too, she was saying, and when they want sex they go out looking for a guy. And she was telling this to a man she’d just met.

Yuichi stared right at her, his eyes seeming to want to say more. Mitsuyo felt herself blushing. It felt as if all her co-workers were eavesdropping. Not her present co-workers, but all her colleagues back at the factory, even her classmates from high school—all of them listening in and laughing at her.

“Anyway,” she said, “let’s go in and check it out. Who knows, it may be full.”

Mitsuyo quickly opened the door and left the car, as if she were fleeing from the confines of the two of them inside together. As soon as she opened the door, the chilly air from the parking lot flowed in.

Once out of the car her body, warmed by the heater in the car, quickly grew cold. Yuichi got out right away and headed toward the entrance of the hotel.

Sex I can take or leave. I just want somebody to hold me. For years that’s what I’ve been looking for. Somebody to hold me
. Mitsuyo said this to herself as she stared at Yuichi’s back. This is how I really feel, she wanted to tell him. I don’t want just anybody to hold me. It’s got to be someone who wants me and I want him to hold me tight.

A panel at the self-service check-in counter showed that two rooms were vacant. Yuichi chose the one named Firenze. He hesitated for a moment, then selected “Short Time” above the panel. Immediately the panel indicated the price, ¥4,800.

Mitsuyo was sick of the kind of life where all she did was look for ways to drown her loneliness.

They rode the elevator to the second floor, to the room right in front of them with the nameplate
Firenze
.

The lock was stuck and it took Yuichi several tries before he could get it open. As soon as the door opened, the bright colors of the room leaped out at them. Yellow walls, an orange bedspread, a domed ceiling with a pseudo fresco painted on it. Despite the bright colors, nothing about it looked fresh.

As Mitsuyo entered, she reached back and shut the door. The heater was on high and the air was stuffy and she felt as if she was going to start sweating.

Yuichi strode over to the bed and tossed the key on top of it. The key didn’t bounce at all, but sank into the down comforter.

All they could hear was the heater. The room was less a silent place than one from which all other sounds had been sucked away.

“Kind of a gaudy room,” Mitsuyo said to Yuichi, who was still facing away from her. Yuichi turned around and suddenly came over to her.

It all happened in a flash. Mitsuyo had been standing there, arms dangling at her sides, when Yuichi grabbed her and held her tight. His hot breath grazed the back of her neck, his stiff penis pushing against her stomach. Through their clothes, they could feel the other’s heart beating. Mitsuyo wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him closer. The tighter she held him the more she could feel his hard penis against her soft belly.

A room called Firenze, ¥4,800 for a short-time stay. A room in a love hotel that tried to have its own personality, but from which all sense of the personal had vanished.

“Promise you won’t laugh,” Mitsuyo murmured against Yuichi’s chest. He started to draw away, but she clung to him so he wouldn’t see her face.

“I’m going to tell you the truth, but you have to promise you won’t laugh,” Mitsuyo said. “I’m … I’m serious when I send out e-mails. Other people might just send them out to kill time … but I really wanted to meet somebody. This is sort of lame, huh? And kind of sad? … Go ahead and make fun of me. But don’t
laugh
at me, okay? If you do, I don’t know what I’ll …”

Yuichi was still holding on to her. She knew it was kind of a rash
thing to say, but she felt she had to say it now or she’d never ever say it to anyone.

“Me, too,” Yuichi said. “I … was serious, too, about the e-mails.”

Mitsuyo, cheek pressed against him, heard his voice through his chest.

Water dripped in the bathroom, splashing against the tiles. It must have collected in the faucet and then gushed out. That was the only other sound she heard, besides the beating of his heart as she pressed her face up against him.

Yuichi suddenly moved and crushed his mouth on hers. A rough, hard kiss, his dry lips scraping her. He sucked at her lips, stuck his tongue inside her mouth. Clinging to his shirt, she held his tongue in her mouth. That burning hot tongue felt as if it were wrapped around her whole body.

She felt weak in the knees. Yuichi moved his tongue from her mouth to her ear, his hot breath reaching deep inside and exciting her.

He roughly pulled off her shirt, then her bra, and standing there she let him kiss her breasts. In front of her was the cheap love hotel bed, and she pictured herself sinking down, half naked, onto the down comforter.

He was rough, except for the gentle fingers that stroked her behind. Her body wanted it even rougher. Was she the violent one, or Yuichi? She couldn’t tell. It was as if she was simply manipulating Yuichi, using him to roughly, violently caress herself.

She was naked now, in front of this man. Under the too-bright fluorescent lights, she felt him stroke her thighs, grab her butt, and Mitsuyo felt that any minute now she would cry out.

Yuichi lightly lifted her up and carried her over to the bed. He almost tossed her on top of the comforter, then tore off his shirt and T-shirt. Yuichi’s hard chest crushed her breasts. Every time he moved, Mitsuyo’s nipples slipped across his skin.

Before she knew it she was lying facedown on the bed, sunk deep in the comforter, as if she were floating on air. Yuichi’s hot tongue
traced a line down her spine. He stuck his knees between her legs and no matter how much she resisted, her legs opened wide.

She buried her face in the pillow, which smelled of detergent. All the strength drained away from her. Yuichi caressed her roughly, almost as if he were trying to break her. At the same time, he held on to her tightly, as if to repair the damage.

He destroyed her, repaired her, and repeated the process. Mitsuyo no longer knew if she’d gotten destroyed, or if she’d been destroyed from the very beginning. If it was Yuichi doing the breaking, she wanted him to break her even more violently. If her body was broken from the beginning, she wanted his gentle hands to restore her.

“I don’t need to see him ever again. Just this one time. This is just for today,” she murmured as he caressed her. She didn’t really feel this way, but she had to tell herself this, or else she couldn’t accept this shameless self, the one she’d never really seen before, the one writhing in ecstasy on the bed.

She heard the metallic sound as Yuichi undid his belt. She had no idea how long she’d been like this on the bed, but it seemed as if Yuichi had been caressing her for a long time. Fifteen minutes? Thirty minutes? No, it felt more like he’d been stroking her with his fingers, his hot body crushing her, for a whole night—or was it two?

She felt her body grow lighter. The bed creaked and the vibration made her head fall off the pillow. She opened her eyes and saw Yuichi standing there, naked.

She hadn’t been crying, but she saw Yuichi’s penis through a kind of haze. All the strength drained out of her; even moving her fingers seemed like too much trouble. He was gazing down at her totally nude body from above, but she felt no embarrassment at all. One of Yuichi’s knees came up beside her face. The mattress sank down and her face rolled over toward him. He cupped his large palm behind her head to support it, and Mitsuyo closed her eyes and opened her mouth.

Yuichi’s hand supporting her head was gentle, but the penis jabbing deep inside her mouth was brutal and relentless. Again she
didn’t know if she was being treated gently, or roughly. Was she suffering? Or happy? As she clutched at the sheets over and over, she had no idea. She knew she must look like a total slut. And she detested Yuichi—and loved him—for forcing her to lick him like this.

She reached around and grabbed his butt. Her nails dug into his sweaty behind. Trying his best to stand the pain, Yuichi cried out. And Mitsuyo wanted to hear that voice more.

I really do want Mitsuyo to be happy.

I never call her
onesan
—older sister. But still inside me I feel like I might be calling her that.

We have a younger brother, and he calls her
onesan
. It’s weird to say he does it in my stead, but that’s what it feels like. Me he just calls Tamayo.

People often say twins know what the other one is thinking. But Mitsuyo and I were never like that. Don’t get me wrong, we got along okay, and stood out in school, being twins and all. So when we were in elementary school we were always together, and tried to protect each other from our classmates’ curious eyes. Yeah—I think we did sort of stand out in elementary school. But once we entered junior high, another set of twins from a nearby elementary school came to the same school and they were ten times cuter than us. Kids can be really cruel, and it wasn’t long before we were being called the ugly twins. That didn’t bother me too much—if a boy said that, I’d chase him and hit him with a broom or something. About this time our personalities, you might say, the overall impression you got from us—hairstyle, clothes, interests—slowly started to be different from each other.…