Love & Cherry Blossoms

by Amara Kent

  They try to catch my attention. Their eyes landing on me and begging me to notice them. Oh, I see you there. I always notice them. They make it hard not to, but there’s no way I’ll let them know that because giving them the slightest bit of attention ensures that they’ll be fighting to have me inside of them by the end of the night. It’s pathetic how much they allow their desperation to fuel their actions.

  You’re one to talk. Touché brain. Touché.

  “We had sex,” I state. Aiya looks at me with wide eyes. “Why are you surprised? Not confident of my skills?”

  “The way you made her sound, I was expecting you to be walking away, waving a white flag with your tail between your legs.”

  “You underestimate me, dear friend.”

  “When it comes to sex and women, I never underestimate you. I overestimated her, it seems,” she says.

  “To be honest, I didn’t think she would cave either.”

  “Then why did you continue to harass her?” Aiya asks.

  “Hope. I was hoping she would give in. She surprised me too.”

  Aiya takes a sip of her drink. “So how did it happen?”

  “Aiya! Ren!” A man saunters over to us, interrupting our conversation. I hide the groan that bubbles in my throat. Hansuke. A stain within society and one I can’t seem to exterminate, for the life of me.

  “Hansuke. It’s wonderful to see you again,” Aiya announces, stealing his attention away from me before I get caught showing my disdain for him. She knows how I feel about those that attend these events for self-gain, instead of charitable contribution and awareness.

  “Good to see you again, Hansuke,” I greet him. Forcing my voice to be polite.

  “You too, Ren. How is business?” he asks.

  Parasites. The world is full of them. People who want nothing more than to leech off your success and the fruits of the world. Hansuke is one of them. He seeks power and status. A narcissistic megalomaniac, if there ever was one. The local mayor, he tries to gain popularity from doing these selfish deeds to better his cause. Politicians are never to be trusted. Especially this one.

  “Business is going very well.”

  “Good to hear. I hear that we may get a prototype by the end of this year for your new technology,” he says, leaning in as if it’s a fucking secret.

  Cretin.

  “I’m not at the liberty to discuss any stages of my work until it’s completed.” Aiya’s elbow digs into me when my response comes out a little rough.

  She knows how I feel about him. Hell, he knows how I feel about him, yet he continues to curry my favor with his bullshit antics. I’m not sure why he thinks I’ll just cave one day and jump on his bandwagon. The day he proves himself to be a good mayor, will be the day I’ll consider it. Taking in his past, current, and what I suspect to be his future actions, that’s never going to happen. This dickhead can join the rest of the asshole politicians of the world.

  “Oh, come on. Not even just a little?” he urges me with a sly smile.

  You better back away from me before I shove that champagne flute up your dick hole.

  “I’m sorry, it’s my process. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get another drink. Would you like one, Mayor?” I ask him out of forced politeness. Presenting him with a wide toothy smile of absolute contempt.

  “No, I’m good with this drink. Can’t get too intoxicated. The media would love to report on a drunk mayor.”

  “Aiya?” I ask.

  “No, thank you. I’m fine.”

  Giving a quick nod, I walk away from them. Grateful to create some distance between us. These events are hard to handle because of the amount of pompous assholes you have to deal with, I’m just lucky the mayor is the worst of them. I wave down the bartender and order myself a whiskey neat when I feel a body next to me.

  “Hello, Ren. It’s good to see you again,” Aiko purrs next to me.

  I know that attempt at seduction voice of hers. She’s one of those women who try to be sexy because she saw it in a movie once, but it never works.

  “Aiko,” I acknowledge, taking my drink from the bar staff.

  She is also one of the women I fucked some time back. Come to think of it, it was at last year’s event. Never again. I love loud and vocal women. There is nothing better than having them scream with your dick deep inside their pussy. Aiko though, she sounded as if she was dying. Like nails on a chalkboard. If you want your dick to shrivel up and crawl back into itself, then she’s the woman you need to screw, because that’s exactly the effect she had on me.

  A finger runs up and down my arm, and I move away slightly so she doesn’t misinterpret the shiver wracking through my body as one of desire. The last thing I need is to have her strapping herself to me.

  “I’m so glad to see you here,” she states.

  Kuso Bakayarou. (Fucking idiot.) Of course, I’m here. I come to this event every year. She knows this. I need to quit having one-night stands with people at these events, they’re all morons. That never bothered you before.

  “Hey, Ren,” Aiya says, sliding in next to me, placing a helpful hand on my shoulder.

  Aiko gives her a sour look and I roll my eyes at her antics. I know she thinks she can be that one woman to change me because romance movies and books dictate that you are special and are the only one that can do that to a professed playboy like me. A person like me can’t change. And even if we fool ourselves into thinking we can, because we are disillusioned by some person out there, sooner or later, we will go back to how we were. Because if I’ve learned one thing about the human race.

  People. Don’t. Change.

  “Hello, Aiko, it’s good to see you again,” Aiya greets her. To anyone observing this conversation, it would appear as though Aiya was being friendly and as if she likes Aiko. In reality, she can’t stand her and she’s being utterly passive-aggressive.

  “You too, Aiya,” Aiko returns with an overly sugary sweet greeting of her own. The two girls lean in and kiss each other on the cheek.

  “I’m going to have to take Ren off your hands.” Without saying another word, she tucks her arm in the crook of mine and guides me away from her.

  “Thank you very much for that. Most likely, at some stage, I would have acted rather inappropriately toward her,” I thank her, appreciatively.

  “You owe me one. I can’t believe you made me speak to that warugaki.” (Brat)

  I laugh. “I didn’t make you do anything. You took it upon yourself to rescue me.”

  “Keyword there, being rescue.”

  “Still doesn’t change the fact that you chose to rescue me.”

  She shakes her head. “So tell me, how did it happen between you and Kerri?” she asks, going back to our previous conversation.

  We make our way back to our table and sit down. She waves over a waitress with a tray of wine and takes one from it.

  “I was at work trying to fix the issues my tech team had been having with the new design program. She messaged me and said that she wanted to come over.”

  “I feel as if there is more to this story than what you’ve just told me,” she states with a raised brow.

  “Well, apparently masturbating to thoughts of us fucking wasn’t enough for her, she just had to get the real thing for herself.” I wink.

  “Did she tell you she masturbated to you, or are you ‘paraphrasing’?” Aiya asks.

  “She told me.”

  “So how was it?”

  “The best sex I’ve ever had in my life. She’s feisty and dominating outside of the bedroom. In the bedroom? She’s more than I could have ever imagined. She’s dynamite in bed,” I respond, with a slight wistfulness.

  She gives me a look as if trying to figure out something. Trying to find something in my words. “Are you smitten?”

  “No, Aiya. I’m not in love with her.” I chuckle.

  “Didn’t say you were, but you do like her more than just a one-night stand. The way you talk about her is very fond.
It’s not sexual satisfaction or with manly arrogance. It’s a way I’ve never seen from you before,” she explains.

  “Don’t think too much into it, Aiya. You won’t find what you are looking for.”

  She sighs. I know she wants the best for me. I know she wants the same things my parents want for me. The differentiating factor between the two is that she knows I already get enough shit from them to never broach the topic with me. She drops a few comments here and there, but not enough to piss me off. And yes, I understand why she feels this way. She’s not in a position to openly enter into a relationship with a woman because of the way her parents feel about their child being a homosexual. I also know that she’s projecting her dreams onto me. I’m turning forty-four next year. No matter what any of the people in my life think. It’s not something I will ever see as a need in my life.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kerri

  I’m directed to a seat at the back of the restaurant. The waitress I met when I came here for the very first time with Ren, waves at me with a smile, excusing herself from her friend and walking over to my table.

  “Hey!” She pauses a moment, giving me a look, until she eventually says, “Kerri?” I nod and she claps. “How are you?”

  “I’m good, thank you. How are you?” I ask, not saying her name because I don’t remember it, feeling a pang of guilt that she remembered mine.

  “Do you know what you’ll be having?”

  I take a quick look at the menu and give her my order. It’s pretty much what I ordered last time. It’s my second last day here, and I intend on making the most of it. There’s a little bit of sadness at having to leave, but I’ll be back soon, so it’s not as bad.

  Twenty minutes later, Amber, as I’ve learned her name is, comes out with my food. I practically start drooling as I look at the spread in front of me—the plump balls of takoyaki. The steam rises tantalizingly in the air, dancing as the fried bits of fish coat the top of it like some delectable snow. I pick up my chopsticks, collecting one, and popping it in my mouth. I moan, closing my eyes. The creaminess of the batter, the bite from the ginger and shallots, and the sauce all coalescing in a taste for the senses.

  I devour the whole meal, which I regret as soon as I see my empty plates. I should have taken it slowly, but it’s hard to do when you have such amazing food in front of you. No, just me? What can I say, if I wasn’t so active, I would be the size of a balloon by now. Food and a great cup of espresso are my lifeblood.

  “How was everything?” Amber asks.

  “Amazing. I’m really going to miss this place.”

  “When do you leave?”

  “In a couple of days.”

  “You’ll just have to come back soon then,” she says with a smile.

  “I will be. I have to go back to America, but I’ll be back soon.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yep.”

  “What for?” Amber asks.

  “Work.”

  “What do you do?”

  “I’m in the industry of bringing people together,” I respond.

  “So that makes you cupid.”

  I laugh at the cute name. It’s laughable because I’m so far from being cupid. “Far from it.”

  “So where’s Ren? Too busy with his girlfriend?”

  Girlfriend? What? The smile and laughter fade at the words Ren and girlfriend. “Girlfriend?” I ask.

  “Yeah. It was announced today. Ren and Aiya are dating. Apparently, it’s been going on for some time. They wanted to keep things private.”

  Don’t jump to conclusions. Breathe, Kerri. One. Two… Ugh, fuck that. If he’s got a girlfriend then that motherfucking cocksucker lied to me and cheated on his girlfriend. With me. I’m the other woman. I grab my phone and search for Ren and Aiya on Google. Instantly, article after article of their confirmed relationship load up. I know how the media can be. I know that there is no way you can trust them. Does my brain know that right now? No. Does my brain want to think rationally right now? No. I click into an article with shaky hands. Anger and humiliation coursing wildly through me.

  Ren & Aiya Together!

  The billionaire tech giant, Ren Hattori, and famous designer, Aiya, have been confirmed as dating. We’ve always had suspicions of their close friendship. They are seen at most major events, and they’ve known each other their whole lives. It was confirmed by a close friend of the couple, that the two have been dating for some time now and are extremely happy and loved up. They were recently spotted looking cozy at the annual charity event for disadvantaged children.

  It’s all I’m able to read before the screen becomes blurry from the tears that break through to well in my eyes slightly. I pocket my phone and look up to the waitress, as a sudden calmness clicks into place. It’s as if the anger has switched me into a different mode, because whilst I can acknowledge and feel it consuming me, I have this strange sense of clarity.

  “Thank you so much for the food.” I push my chair back, stand up, and bow, before moving to the front counter, settling my bill, and striding out of the restaurant.

  Ren Hattori thought he knew the kind of girl he was dealing with.

  He has no idea.

  Our glasses clink. The beautiful delicate sound running a shiver from my head, down to my toes. I’m that weird person that gets satisfied by certain sounds. I’m that one in however many people you know that listen to autonomous sensory meridian response (ASMR) videos on YouTube. I even have a collection of podcasts on it.

  “Here’s to our last night together. I still can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow,” Sara says with a pout.

  I smile brightly. “I’ll be back within the year. You don’t have to wait too much longer,” I remind her.

  Her face lights up. “I know. It’s just going to be lonely without you living with me anymore. On the bright side, I’ll get to see Taylor again.” She claps excitedly.

  “She will be very happy to see you. It’s been forever since you’ve traveled to the States.”

  Our meals arrive, and they… well, I wasn’t expecting this. I had ordered a bowl of ramen because you can’t come to Japan and not have ramen. They are known for this beautiful soup noodle dish. The bowl placed in front of me is bigger than my head, and it came with a side of thinly sliced pork. No, it’s not the usual meal you would find at a fine dining restaurant, but I’m digging it. It almost washes away the revelation that was dumped on me earlier on. Almost, that is, until I hear Sara call out to Ren.

  My head snaps up, and I see him with his girlfriend. The woman I had never met but was familiar with. The woman who looked like a model, but was one of the most talented and beloved designers in the world. The one he cheated on with me. He was aggressive in his approach at getting me into bed, and I was fucking stupid enough to give it to him. This is what happens when you break your own rules. Rules are never meant to be broken; because when they are, stuff like this happens and you find yourself neck-deep in your own shit.

  He waves at us and seeing the loving look in her eyes, I tear my eyes away from them so I don’t have to face the innocence and obliviousness that shields her from the painful truth. He whispers something in her ear and she nods her head before noticing Sara and me and making his way over to us.

  “Hello, ladies. It’s a pleasure to see you both again,” he greets us both, but I can feel his heated stare on me. The same look that once had my body alight like fireworks on the Fourth of July, has been destroyed of all possibilities of a spark.

  “Hello, Ren. It’s good to see you again as well.” She looks back and waves at Aiya, who gives her a wave back. She’s been in love with Aiya’s fashion ever since she started. She has every item of clothing in every line, enough that I’m pretty sure she could open up her own store. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to leave you two to chat. I can’t resist meeting Aiya, if you don’t mind, Ren?”

  “Go ahead. I would love to have a chat with Kerri.”

  I could have thro
wn her a look. I could have told her not to leave him with me. I could have announced to the two of them, including some of the people in the restaurant, that this lying sack of shit is cheating on his girlfriend, but I don’t. Sara bounds out of her seat and very uncoolly and briskly walks over to where Aiya is sitting, a few tables down. Ren takes her seat, reaching out to grab my hands, and I allow him. I allow him because I have a plan. I want him to know how it felt when he fucked over two women. I want him to know and think twice the next time he does it again.

  “So what’s the special occasion?” he asks softly.

  “It’s my last day,” I respond, inconspicuously slipping my hands out of his grip. The audacity he has for being so damn open with his cheating is remarkable. If anyone was going to be so arrogant to think they wouldn’t get caught, it would be him.

  “Oh? I didn’t know that,” he says as if I should have notified him of my departure.

  “Were you supposed to?” I ask.

  He cracks a smile. “Of course not, but I thought you would have told me. I guess it would have been nice to have one final night with you. For old times?”

  I smile at him. The last one I’ll ever give him and stand up. Without saying a word, I make my way to the bathroom. I don’t check to see if he’s following, because I know he will, because, like a lot of men, he loves the thrill of having sex in public.

  The handicapped restroom is unoccupied. I push past the guilt of using it when I’m not disabled, resting on the knowledge that the few minutes it’ll take to do what I need to do will serve a much better cause later on. As expected, I hear the sounds of shoes following closely behind me. Slipping through the door and waiting for him to come in, I close the door behind him and lock it when he strides through. I’m instantly pushed back against it. His mouth is close to my ear as his erection presses into my ass. I push back, turning around and slamming him against the door. Eyes full of lust and arousal look down at me, and it makes me feel nauseated. Not wanting to waste my time with the little pre-foreplay we’ve done in the past, I make quick work of undoing his belt buckle. We keep eye contact. His filled with wanton animalistic need, and mine with fierce determination and vengeance. I said I would never go down this road ever again; not that I was ever as immersed in the whole vendetta act as Taylor, but we had both agreed that we couldn’t take karma into our own hands again.