Vicissitude Yang Side

by Destine Williams

  I shrug. “My dad was an art historian. He was crazy about this shit. He’d bring it home all the time…” My heart sinks a little. Read it together. Back then, I didn't care if Dad wanted a minute of my time. Now, I’d give anything to sit through all his boring pronunciation lectures, to help paste his research pictures to his slide presentations, and to see his warm gold eyes light with joy when I got something right. “Buuuuut it kind of helps that I have a tattoo that says the same thing.”

  Regi laughs. “Cheater! Your tattoo really says that?”

  I tug my shirt collar down. “Yeah. Look away.”

  He leans in, his breath warming my collarbone. “Wow. That’s crazy. What does it mean?”

  My hand falls from the wall. “Fall down seven times, stand up eight. Your dad asked about it earlier. I’m just glad the rest of it wasn’t showing.”

  Regi’s eyes widens. “Is it some kind of Showguns thing?”

  “Yeah. We have to get it tattooed when we’re accepted.”

  Lips contorting into a frown, Regi rubs a hand through his hair. “They’re religious?”

  I tilt my head. “Nope Showguns was created by an empress before the Revolution. And she hated religion.”

  “But this place has to have something to do with Ise, though.” Regi touches the carving of the shrine. “This even looks like the roof and all that. And aren’t the shrines older than Showguns?”

  If that’s the case, it would’ve made a whole lot more sense for this cave to maybe actually be near the fucking shrine. This cave is miles away. Not to disrespect my great wise ancestors or anything, but… the point? Not seeing one. “I think so. Maybe the Empress thought it was catchy or something. Dunno.” I place my hand on the wall again to touch the Old Speak and keep reading. “Omi…kami Ama…te…rasu.”

  As I read the letters, my insides stir like iron filaments rousing in the presence of a magnet. This is a name. I’m sure of it. And a strong name, too. I let my hand linger. The stir changes to a push and pull. Power like a fluid push, attracted by the wall. Repulsed by the power within the wall. I touch the name again. The wall rumbles lightly under my palm.

  A fox's soft cry echoes behind the wall, as if looking for a lost friend far away.

  I press my ear to the wall. "Regi, do you hear that?"

  “Hear what?”

  I look back at him. “You didn’t hear that fox?”

  His eyebrow pull together as he squints at me. “I didn’t hear anything.”

  I step back from the wall, reevaluating it.

  And only then do I see that all the drawn foxes are gone.

  I can't help but be reminded of the puzzlebox with this wall. For a good half an hour, I stay there brushing my hand over every corner to see if anything else might happen if I touch it.

  But nothing does.

  2-6 'Ah'

  “You’re having a lot more fun than I thought you would.”

  I turn around to find Regi pulling a blanket out of the basket and laying it on the floor. Embracing him from behind, I nuzzle his broad left shoulder and inhale the faint remains of sandalwood on his skin. “What can I say? Exploring is my thing.”

  “Well then, Miss Explorer…” Regi faces me and engulfs me in a hug before he sits down on the blanket. “I’m glad I can entertain you tonight.” He pats the space next to him. “Sit with me. I have something for you.”

  “Do I have to close my eyes for this one, too?”

  “No.” He leans in. “But I’d think it’d be weird if you didn’t.”

  I get the hint and crawl forward so our lips can meet. Traces of his afternoon frappuccino sweetens our kiss: caramel drizzle, mocha, and whipped cream. He puts his hand over mine. His warmth soaks into my skin. Pleasure sprawls through me like a cozy tabby uncurling on a soft bed. Then his thumb brushes over my fingers. “Jun?”

  Tingling swarms my spine. He doesn’t call me by name often.

  Regi’s looking at my hand. His grip on me tightens as if he thinks I’m going to disappear. He presses his mouth to the corner of my lips. For a second I don’t feel his hand, but when I do again, something cold circles my ring finger.

  My vocal chords knot up. I touch it with my thumb, just to make sure it’s not a prank. The top is rough and studded, but the band is as smooth as a baby’s skin.

  “Will you…?”

  I pull away, my mouth opening. Words don’t come. “Regi… I don’t—”

  His hands slip off of mine. “Don’t want to get married?”

  My throat tightens. I grip his hand. Words aren’t coming out. "No" isn’t coming out. But "Yes" isn’t on its way either. A crippling freeze grows in my blood like a parasite. My own silence scares me more than being held at knifepoint. It’s not something I thought I’d ever be silent about. Marriage is something that I always figured would be in the future somewhere, but not this close. “Are you sure you want to? I thought you wouldn’t want to because of—”

  “Jun…” His thumb trails the soft contours of my jaw. “I don’t care about any of the Showguns stuff. I mean, you already quit. I figured you were serious about us.”

  A flux of warmth rushes to my face. But I didn’t quit Showguns for you. “But why?”

  He pecks me on the lips. “Because I love you. All parts.” He nudges me. “And you love me, too…” His voice wavers. “Right?”

  My gaze falls to the ring in my hand. “I do, but it’s just…” The Geisha. I’d been hoping I’d have him dealt with by the time Regi asked to get married. And even though my family and friends are safe in the Showguns Protected Persons System, I wouldn’t put it past the Geisha to screw this up too. “There’s stuff I wanted to be done with first before we settle down.”

  Creases line Regi’s brow. “Like what?”

  “I’m not officially out of Showguns yet. There’s a lot of transitional work I have to do.”

  There’s a long silence. Regi scrapes a hand through his hair. “And how long will that take?”

  “Depends on how soon I get the paperwork done.”

  Regi’s eyes widen. “Serious? But aren’t you guys like an underground thing?”

  “No, Regi. Legally, I’m still a PoleControl employee. And PoleControl employees have a lot of exit paperwork. Mostly contracts that just make you swear not to tell confidential information.”

  Regi frowns, then he sighs. “Alright. I guess that we shouldn’t rush into anything anyway.”

  My teeth sink into my lower lip. I should call Shig tomorrow and see if he’s found anything on the Geisha. Hopefully, before the Geisha finds something else unpleasant for me to do. When I finally look at Regi again, he’s got a silly grin on his face now as he looks at the ring. He lets out a huge breath. “Whew. Thank the gods. That was nerve-wracking.”

  I lower my hand. “You caught me off-guard.”

  His fingers lace through mine. “I thought I was gonna have to cancel part two.”

  “There’s a part two?”

  “Yeah, but it’s only special if you say yes to part one. But that’s for tomorrow!”

  I rest my head on his shoulder, imagining a future with the two of us in it. Immediately, I think of Elise and Mr. Beauregard. Maybe we could be like that.

  “Since we’re being honest…” Regi puts an arm around me. “Want to play a game?”

  “What game?”

  “Never Have I Ever.”

  "Never heard of it."

  "It's easy!" Regi sits in front of me. "We put up both hands with five fingers. You say, 'Never have I ever' and then something that you've never done before. If you’ve done it, then put your finger down. Last person with fingers up wins. Since we're going to have a new life together, we shouldn’t be keeping secrets from each other.”

  “Sounds simple enough,” I say, wiggling my fingers.

  “You can go first,” Regi offers.

  “Mmm.” My gaze wanders around the cave for a bit. Then an idea pops into my head. “Never have I ever smoked anything.”
r />   Regi is still for a while. He puts a finger down.

  I gasp. “You have?”

  Regi’s lips press into a thin line. “Weed.”

  I elbow him in the ribs. “Tell me.”

  “In high school. These kids were smoking it in the alley. I wanted to try it just to see what it’s like.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “Nope. I puked after a few puffs.” He gives a nervous laugh. “Lame, right?”

  I smirk. “I like this game.”

  “Oh, yeah? Well, never have I ever killed anyone.”

  My eyes narrow. I put a finger down. “Cheap shot.”

  Regi sticks his tongue out at me. “You gotta tell me what it’s like.”

  “What? Killing someone?”

  He nods. “Do you…ever feel bad?”

  “Never.”

  “Wow. You’re immune to it?”

  “No. We do get training on how to be comfortable with it, but it’s not like you run around without a conscience. I couldn’t shoot someone I know.” I make a gun gesture with my hand. “But I can shoot a stranger or someone I don’t like. You have to learn to disconnect from it.”

  “Huh…” Regi scratches his chin. He looks away for long enough to make me wonder if I should've kept that a secret. “Your turn.”

  “Never have I ever had cat butt in my face.”

  Regi puts a finger down. “So that’s how it’s gonna be? Bringing poor Mina into this. Never have I ever had alcohol.”

  Three fingers left for me. “Never have I ever liked chocolate.”

  Regi gawks. “What? How can you not like chocolate?”

  I shrug. “Just never appealed to me.”

  “Madness!”

  “Madness?”

  “Madness! What do you do with the chocolate I give you for White Day, then?” Regi asks.

  “Tammy and Jin eat it. Sometimes Megumi.”

  Regi frowns at the mention of Megumi's name. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because it’s weird not to like chocolate.”

  “But still, I could’ve bought you something else.”

  The rest of the game passes quietly. Regi wins solely because he knows everything about my Showguns background while I have none of his deepest darkest secrets. Regardless, I’m glad that probing stops and I resume using his shoulder as a pillow. “Are we gonna stay here?”

  He curls an arm around my waist. “You want to stay? There’s not much else to do here.”

  My gaze trails down his body. Smirking, I finger the hem of his shorts. “I can think of one thing.”

  Regi’s breath catches. “Here? In a cave?”

  Straddling his lap, my arms wrap around his neck. “Why not? We might not get a moment like this again.”

  His gaze strays down to my lips. One of his hands ghosts its way up the top of my thigh.

  The faint touch makes the skin tingle. Makes me want more. I lean in, nipping at his lower lip. “You don’t have to be so shy about it. I don’t bite.”

  Regi doesn’t say anything, but his hands put themselves to better use exploring my hair and bringing our faces together. His lips crash against mine. Hot. Hard.

  Adrenaline spikes in my veins, and the cave around vanishes in a haze. My pulse rattles in my ears, throbs in my chest. Breath ragged, my nails graze his back as I match his kisses. I love every second of the rush in my blood and the groan Regi gives when he stiffens under me.

  Regi’s hands fumble around my shoulder blades before he yanks my shirt off.

  I lift my hips so he can pull off my shorts, too, leaving me completely bare to him. Then I scoot off to help him take off his. Our kisses slow down.

  Before I can straddle him again, he takes my hand and drops it over his shaft. He guides my hand over all of him. All the subtle veins and ridges brush my palm. My thumb rubs his smooth tip.

  He stiffens in my hand, almost like the rock under us. When he swallows, I can hear him, feel his Adam’s apple bob against my ear, and feel his throbbing heart against my shoulder.

  We linger like this for a while: my hand around him, and his hand locked around mine. This isn’t what I’ve been expecting. I expected him to pounce on me the second his boxers were down. I expected clothes to be thrown aside. I expected to be pushed against the wall or the floor and taken right there.

  Not this.

  I don’t know what this means. He can’t be expecting a hand job. His grip on my hand is too tight for mine to move.

  Regi’s other hand touches my jaw. It's…shaking? His lips press against my earlobe. He whispers, “I trust you.”

  His quiet voice brings me to my senses. I pull away so I can look at him. "What do you mean?"

  He gives me a sheepish smile. “I’ve never been this vulnerable with anyone before.”

  My adrenaline rush fades. Sex is easy. I’ve had plenty of it. Insert tab A into slot B, sweat, groan a little, and you’re done.

  But being vulnerable?

  I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that.

  His lips press into a line. “Are you mad?”

  I lift my other hand and caress his cheek. “No. It’d be pretty stupid to get mad over that.” But it does change things.

  Regi presses his forehead to mine. “I still want to do this…i-if you’re okay with it.”

  I hesitate. Regi’s a year older than I am, but with the way he’s looking at me, the hopeful naivety in his green eyes, I can’t help but feel like I’m going to taint a kid. “Are you sure?”

  “I want this.” Our lips brush. A soft wet sound fills the air when we part. “I want to be intimate with you.”

  The absence of his lips makes me forget my misgivings. Like a magnet, I'm pulled in again. Our bodies press together: heartbeat against heartbeat. But when my hand moves away from his groin and I’m in his lap again it’s hard to tell which of us is more nervous.

  I sink down on him, watching his expression go from neutral to slack the deeper he’s in. His raw groan sends a shiver through my skin. Seeing the pleasure cloud his eyes is a high.

  And yet, feeling all of him inside the most private part of me… It’s so surreal, hot, but frightening, too. It feels like I’m giving him everything I have. It feels like nothing is a secret. It feels like we can’t be two different people anymore.

  Hot friction kindles between us. He sighs in my ear. Fingers run through hair. Hurried “I-love-yous” leave our lips. Sweat rises to cool us both. Our chests are heaving. My nails dig into him. Pressure builds. Pleasure sweeps like a blanket of warmth. The kisses slow. Regi stretches out a long, white arm.

  The light of his keychain winks out.

  2-7 'Ah'

  Day comes too fast. It feels like I only shut my eyes for a minute.

  Regi doesn’t say a word to me when we get up. But, he doesn’t really need to. He’s as emotionally subtle as a freight truck. From his casual whistling to the silly grin that he can’t seem to keep off his face, he’s glowing with pride all over.

  I can’t help but smile a little, too. He's infectious. It makes me happy that he’s happy. But when I look down at my ring, my pulse spikes. Gods, I want to be happy. I should be happy. But wife is a tall order. Ask me to make a green tea frappe. Ask me to make a chai latte. Ask me to sub milk for soy. I know how to do that.

  I don’t know what roast or tea blend to put in a wife (though mango green tea has never let me down).

  All I know about that is from watching my mom around the house and that wasn’t very much.

  Mom was her own kind of hermit. Always keeping to the corners of the house. Biting her nails down to the uneven nubs. Drinking sloshy creamed coffee every morning with a jittery hand and a dead stare as if she’d long been resigned to her end. In memory, she’s more mythical unicorn than mother: rarely seen and rarely heard. Needless to say, she isn’t a wife role model anyone should be imitating.

  I hold an inhale to calm my pounding heart. Is this right? I love him. He loves me. Get married? Get a
house? Pay bills? Have kids? Being a wife can’t be all that different from being a girlfriend. Is it normal to be this afraid?

  Listen to yourself, Jun. So damn worried before anything has even happened. Pushing those thoughts aside, I decide to go and touch the Old Speak one last time, just to feel the cave rock under my fingers.

  The words don’t seem the same when I touch them. There are less than yesterday, as if this cave aged a million years in a night. I trace my index finger along the deep strokes.

  Nanakorobi…

  Flat space.

  Frowning, I move my hand across the rough rock, feeling around for the text. Weird. Can’t find the second half of the proverb. “Regi?”

  “Yo. Whatcha need?”

  “Where’s that keychain light?”

  “Uh… gimme a sec.”

  In a few moments, Regi comes to my side and presses the light into my palm. I shine the light on the wall.

  It only reads: Fall down seven times.

  More of the cave is gone than last night. It’s like a Rube Goldberg machine set into motion, one strange move after another for some result I can’t predict.

  But also for one I don’t think I can stop either.

  My issued phone goes off. I pick it up off the ground.

  Incoming call: Genji Fujiwara

  Accept?

  Yes No

  I scowl. What do you want now? Isn’t it too early in the morning to shit on my hopes and dreams? “Babe, I need to take this call really quick. I’ll be right back.”

  “Okay. I’m just gonna get our stuff together.”

  I hurry out of the cave with the phone at my ear. “Hello?”

  “Took you long enough, Hound,” The Geisha sounds amused. “I finally have your assignment.”

  “And that is?”

  “There’s two parts of it. First, I’ll need you to accept a job from a representative of the Tokaido Research Institute. As soon as you get that, then call me for the rest of you assignment. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, but what is that job abou—”

  Click!

  Metamorphosis (East Hall)

  Metamorphosis: 3-0 'Ah'