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From: r_rivers@cryogen.com (Rivers)
Subject: {Rivers} "A Journey to the East, Part 7" (MF Mf Japan Horticulture) 7/7!
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This story contains graphic descriptions of sex and should not be read by 
anyone under 18, or anyone offended by such 
material.  Blah Blah Blah...

The story is divided into seven parts, of which this is the seventh, 
describing a week-long stay in Japan.  

The author does not mind constructive comments.  I suppose: "This is a 
piece of crap!" is constructive on some level, but 
what I have in mind would be more along the lines of technical pointers 
or anything that might help future offerings 
attain a higher level of craft.  Of course compliments are always 
welcome.

I would like to thank those who have given me their words of support and 
or constructive criticism during the writing of this story.


Richard Rivers
4/98

A JOURNEY TO THE EAST
 

Day 7, Saturday:


The sound of her voice fought against the 
heavy night air; blocked, dead and  un-
resonant, as if no one had heard it.  The 
last tolling of the midnight bell faded 
slowly away, the sound dissipating to 
silence as it receded from the present, 
the irrevocable moment when clapper and 
bell had came together to send outward 
waves of sound now dwindling, as the 
present, once clear and sharp to the mind 
slowly fades, blurring into distant 
memory.

"I have to go back now," Satomi 
whispered.  "If I am not back in the 
house soon my parents will find out about 
it."

"But Satomi..."  I grasped her hand, not 
wanting her to go, as if  by letting her 
get away I would allow her to carry off a 
part of myself.  "I've got to talk to 
you...about tonight.  I leave tomorrow."

Her hand, already sliding out of mine, 
faltered.  She paused for a moment, then 
turning her wrist let the tips of her 
fingers slide softly across the palm of 
my hand as she broke the contact between 
us.  I felt a resurgence of arousal: 
those delicate fingers had innocently 
explored me not long before, and although 
I knew what I had to say-that I was sorry 
for what happened, that I shouldn't have 
let it happen at all-I still longed for 
her gentle touch, the silky yet firm curl 
of her fingers around me.

"You can walk with me as far as the house 
then," she said softly.

Even though we walked slowly, I felt 
hurried.  The house was not far away and 
every step closer we took made me feel 
more uneasy, as if I shouldn't let her 
get away from me, having done to me what 
she had done, knowing what she knew.

"Satomi, listen."  I had to force the 
words out.  "I am sorry about what 
happened.  It shouldn't have.  I mean I 
shouldn't have let it happen.  I'm 
supposed to be the adult here...but I let 
things get out of control.  It's just 
that...well...Megumi...and everything 
that was happening, everything that we 
saw..."  My voice faded.  I felt even 
more embarrassed than before: I hadn't 
said what I wanted, or at least not the 
way I wanted it to come out.

Satomi walked on a few paced beside me, 
looking straight ahead.  "What is it you 
want anyway Mr Sato?  I don't think you 
know yourself."  Her soft voice held a 
bitter edge.

I dropped my head, looking at my feet 
swishing out from under my robe.  "You're 
right," I said finally, "but I think we 
should talk about this.  I mean, are you 
OK about it, about what happened?  Do you 
regret it?"

"Ah!"  She stopped and turned to me.  
"You are so obvious Mr Sato!  It isn't me 
at all you are worrying about: it is 
yourself.  You are scared that I will 
tell someone, my father, Megumi...anyone.  
You just want to make sure that I don't 
do anything to expose you, isn't that 
it?"  She turned away.

She was right, I realized, and I stood 
beside her with no reply.

"Well, you don't have to worry about 
anything.  I will never tell my father 
about this.  He will never be able to use 
it against you.  Is that good enough for 
you? Have I lessened the weight of that 
guilt you seem to carry around with you 
all the time?"  She whirled around and 
made off down the path much faster than 
before.

I tried to keep pace with her.  We were 
practically running.  "Satomi, please..." 
I tried to rally some self defense but 
the words would not come.  I knew morally 
my position was empty, bankrupt.

"Mr Sato," she stopped abruptly to face 
me again:  "You have to stop doing things 
you regret all the time."  She paused.  
"Or maybe it is that you need to stop 
regretting the things you do."

She turned and left me standing alone in 
the night.


***


Mr Ogawa summoned me in the mid morning.  
As I knocked on the door I realized I had 
not seen him in this office since the day 
of our first meeting.  Answering, Megumi 
greeted me with a fleeting smile.  She 
ushered me to a chair while taking up a 
position standing over Mr Ogawa's left 
shoulder.  She seemed nervous, her 
motions lacking their usual grace; her 
hands absently smoothed the front of her 
robe as we waited for Mr Ogawa to speak.

He sat idly leafing through a sheaf of 
papers in a manila folder, hardly 
acknowledging either of us as we waited 
for him to finish.  At length he looked 
up.  

"Thank you for coming Mr Sato," he said, 
his eyes still buried in his papers.  I 
recognized some of the things Megumi and 
I had sent over to him the night before.  

"I would also like to thank you for a 
fine job," he continued.  "Your work on 
the project was most satisfactory.  I 
will certainly give a favorable report to 
your employers back in America."  He 
finally looked up, glancing at me then 
quickly over his shoulder at Megumi, as 
if becoming aware of her presence for the 
first time.  He snapped the folder shut 
and lay it on the desk before him, giving 
it a light tap with his fingers.  "I 
think all that remains is for me to 
compensate you for your work and wish you 
a pleasant journey home."  He drew an 
envelope from a drawer and slid it across 
the desk towards me.  "You will find a 
considerable bonus included in this: for 
work excellently performed."  He smiled 
and, clasping his hands together, leaned 
back in his chair.

I was taken completely by surprise, so 
much so that it took me a moment to 
finally blurt out: "But Mr Ogawa, nothing 
is finished yet! At least not completely!  
I haven't compiled yet...the final 
editing needs touching up.  If you want 
to actually use anything I've done I will 
need several more hours, maybe half a 
day, to clean things up for you."

He waited patiently for me to finish, as 
if he knew what I would say and had 
prepared his reply ahead of time.  "That 
won't be necessary," he said evenly.

"But...I don't think you understand."   
His calm demeanor had me flustered.  
"It's not finished," was all I could 
think of to say at first.  Then regaining 
some composure:  "Excuse me for saying 
so, but I don't think you realize the 
complexity of what remains to be done 
here.  I would be happy to finish it up 
for you.  I couldn't accept payment for 
it until I did in fact."

He continued to look at me as if I hadn't 
said anything.  I glanced up at Megumi: 
she had lowered her eyes to her hands 
resting on the front of her thighs.

"Mr Sato," Mr Ogawa said quietly, "as I 
have said, no further work on the project 
will be needed.  Thank you."  The 
finality of his tone indicated he had 
finished and that he wished for me to 
leave.  He leaned forward, looking as if 
he might get up.

"May I ask why," I asked more calmly.  A 
feeling of unexplainable dread rose in 
me.  I felt cornered.  His tone of voice, 
while still friendly, now had an edge to 
it.  "Is something wrong?  Are you 
displeased?"

He sighed.  "No Mr Sato.  I assure you, 
your work was excellent: better than we 
could have hoped for.  It is just that 
our plans have changed.  You might say 
that as of today the project is canceled.  
I have paid you well after all.  That's 
business: accept the fact."  He shrugged 
a gesture so uncharacteristic for the 
little that I knew of him that it made me 
shiver involuntarily.

I felt an overwhelming sense of 
disappointment, and of betrayal.  He had 
finally put me in my place in the most 
definitive way: by showing me that even 
my best efforts were worthless to him.  
He had paid me off, leaving no doubt that 
he considered the money I had worked so 
hard for as a mere trifle, something he 
could throw away on a worthless project, 
and that I personally was expendable, my 
feelings of no consequence to him.  At 
that moment I realized how much I had 
craved his approval and spurred myself on 
when he had withheld it.

I grew angry, as much at myself as with 
him.  "Forgive me Mr Ogawa," I said in as 
even a tone as I could manage.  "When I 
first arrived here you chided me, as an 
American, for being only conscious of 
money and profit.  I have to tell you now 
that I feel extremely disappointed.  I 
consider what I do to have a certain 
level of craft.  I won't go so far as to 
call it an art, but it is a skill, and a 
highly personal one.  I put a lot of 
myself, my heart and soul, into the work 
I did for you.  I am proud of what I 
accomplished, and to have you simply 
throw it away is painful to me.  I am 
sorry."  I pushed the envelope back 
towards him.  "You asked me to do a 
certain job, for which you would pay me 
an agreed amount.  Well, as far as I am 
concerned, the job isn't finished.  I can 
not accept payment for it."  I started to 
get up from my chair.

"Ok, ok, Mr Sato," he said, pressing his 
palms together.  He had a pained 
expression on his face.  "You are right, 
of course," he continued more softly as I 
let myself fall back into the chair.  
"You are right to feel the way you do.  
It is I who should apologize.  I only 
wanted to spare your feelings.  This will 
be more difficult."  His eyes flitted 
towards Megumi.  "For all of us."

"Mr Sato," he took a deep breath,  "I 
assure you the project is finished in so 
much as you have accomplished for me 
everything I desired of you at the 
outset.  You see, in the climate I 
operate in, I mean the business climate, 
it is often not enough to simply move 
forward with one's own ideas and projects 
blindly, without regard for potential 
competitors.  In fact the competition is 
everything.  The markets are small, the 
pool of useful, workable ideas even 
smaller, so that much of what I do is 
directed towards fending off others who 
would have access to the same 
opportunities as I have rather than to 
actually moving forward with anything 
productive.  The waste is built into the 
system because of all the 
competitiveness.  I often wish it weren't 
so, but I alone am powerless to change 
it."  He turned his palms upward.

"Now, certain of my competitors have 
launched projects which directly impact 
plans of my own.  These rivals, like 
myself, are out to protect their own 
interests by taking certain actions, and 
I in turn have taken actions to thwart 
them.  In a word, what I am talking about 
here, is spying.  Industrial espionage is 
I believe the term for it.  My 
competitors spy on me, Mr Sato, and I spy 
on them as well; but as additional 
protection I also engage in a bit of 
counter espionage, or disinformation, if 
you will."

"Without revealing too many details I can 
tell you that my competitors have 
attempted to infiltrate my organization 
for quite some time.  Eventually I 
realized that the most effective way to 
combat their attempts would be to allow 
them to succeed, or at least think that 
they had succeeded, so long as I could 
tightly control the information they had 
access to.  The project you have worked 
on is merely an effort to pass along some 
misleading information to one of those 
competitors."

"Your work has been passed along to a 
certain courier who believes he has 
access to my inner circle.  All of the 
many changes and contradictory 
instructions I have given over the last 
week were merely for show, to simulate 
the appearance of a project in 
development.  The courier has to believe 
he is getting raw information, from very 
close to the source.  Do you understand 
what I am talking about?" He fixed me 
with a pointed stare.

"Yes, I think so," I said slowly.  I 
found his explanation fascinating, to the 
point where it momentarily overshadowed 
my anger and disappointment at having 
been used as a pawn in his scheme. 

Then I spoke without thinking, knowing 
the answer to my own question before the 
words had even left my mouth:  "But how 
does the information get passed along, so 
that it seems as if it had really been 
stolen?"

He looked away, and for the first time I 
saw him appear truly uncomfortable.  
"Megumi handles that," he answered 
softly.  "To keep the ruse effective I do 
not involve myself in that level of it.  
She handles it.  Personally."  

There was a long uncomfortable silence, 
and a horrible sinking feeling of 
realization came over me. Megumi and her 
mysterious lover: now I understood.  I 
tried to resist the urge to look over at 
her but couldn't.  I dreaded that she 
might be looking back at me: I had put my 
foot in my mouth so badly by blurting 
what should have never been spoken.  My 
eyes made a roundabout trip across the 
desk and up the far wall before finally 
came to rest on her.  She seemed not to 
have moved a muscle during the entire 
conversation.  Her eyes remained fixed on 
some indefinite point before her.

Mr Ogawa regained his composure and 
continued: "Of course we have our own 
sources to make certain the information 
is getting across.  Everything has its 
checks and balances.  To maintain the 
guise of authenticity everything must be 
approached with the utmost sincerity by 
the individuals involved to minimize the 
risk of discovery..."

He went on at some length about how he 
had constructed the 'operation' involving 
me but I had tuned him out.  I felt sick.  
Completely betrayed and upset by what I 
he had told me I wanted nothing more than 
to get as far away from the two of them 
as I could.  At last I took my leave of 
them, although I hardly remember doing 
so.


***


The day seemed to drag on endlessly.  I 
looked at my watch: 11:30; four more 
hours before Mr Ogawa's driver would 
arrive to take me back to Tokyo.  My bags 
were already packed and I sat alone in my 
room fidgeting, not wanting to go out, 
dreading that I might meet Megumi or Mr 
Ogawa.

 Sleeping with someone just to advance a 
business interest: I suppose it happens 
all the time, in all sorts of ways, I 
thought, but Megumi?  Why would she do 
such a thing?  I had begun to believe 
that maybe I had come to some insights 
about her over the past week, only to 
have all my assumptions come crashing 
down about me like a house of cards.  How 
sordid this all turned out to be, I 
thought.  

Mr Ogawa: had he demanded she do it?  In 
so many words, or directly?  I didn't 
believe him when he said he knew nothing 
of how she did it.  It couldn't be true, 
and Satomi had already told me her father 
knew all about the strangers who secretly 
came into the house at night, that he 
even had something to do with arranging 
it all.  Then again, perhaps Megumi had 
volunteered.  Maybe it was her idea in 
the first place.  I kept telling myself 
to drop it, forget them, I was leaving 
after all, but my mind always turned back 
to the unsolvable riddle.

I looked at my watch again: 11:35.


***


The weather had grown cooler.  A soft 
breeze blew across the pond, rustling the 
trees around me where I walked, well away 
from the path.  My western clothes, 
unworn in a week, felt odd, rough and 
confining on my body.  When I couldn't 
stand being cooped up in my room any 
longer I had dressed and set off 
stealthily on a walk with the slight hope 
that I might come across Satomi somehow.  
She was the only one I wanted to see 
before I left, even at the risk of having 
to face Megumi or Mr Ogawa again.

Something, either the magic of the place, 
or as I began to think of it, its curse 
always seemed to bring me face to face 
with the person I least wanted to meet at 
any particular moment:  I stood stock 
still, noticing Megumi striding 
purposefully along the path at the edge 
of the pond.  She had seen me and was 
making her way through the grove of trees 
to where I waited.

"Mr Sato," she said upon reaching me.  
"You are hiding I see."  Then, glancing 
away:  "I cannot say I blame you."

"What do you want?"  My words sounded 
harsh: I had meant it simply as a 
question, but I saw her flinch ever so 
slightly at my tone of voice.

"I'm sorry," she said turning away.  
"Nothing.  To say good-bye perhaps, that 
is all."

"No.  Wait," I said hurriedly.  "I mean 
why are you here?  What is it you wanted 
to say?"

She drew herself up to her full height, 
straightening.  She appeared to regain 
some of her customary poise.  Her eyes 
met mine and did not waver.

"I really did want to say farewell to you 
Mr Sato.  That is all.  I have enjoyed 
your company this past week and, whether 
you know it or not, seeing you at work 
has been an inspiration to me.  I could 
not simply let you walk away because of 
what Mr Ogawa said this morning."

"But Megumi!"  She had pricked the 
surface of all the emotions boiling 
within me.  "You can't expect me to 
accept that, can you?  I mean, forgive me 
for saying so, but I find the whole thing 
so sordid, awful, repugnant in fact!  I 
don't know what to say, what to think 
even!  It's such a surprise; and it goes 
against everything I believe in!  To have 
all my work thrown away like that, and 
the way you did it!"

I had angered her.  Her eyes narrowed and 
I could feel the tension wash over her 
then dissipate, like a wave breaking.  
She waited a long time before speaking:

"Mr Sato," her voice was calm, deadly, 
unnaturally calm.  "You have no right to 
judge me or anything that I do."  A gust 
of wind rustled the trees as she waited, 
letting her words sink in.  

"I thought we might become friends when 
you first arrived.  Friends.  Nothing 
more.  But I felt I was constantly 
battling against you, your preconceived 
notions of me, of what I should be to 
you, of what you wanted me to be.  You 
have no place in calling what I do 
sordid, or awful, or whatever.  Not after 
some of the things you yourself have 
done."

I closed my eyes, feeling ashamed.

"You came here with a whole load of ideas 
about what you would find, about what you 
wanted to find here; and, finding me, you 
thought you had found what you wanted.  
Only you never bothered to see what was 
really before your eyes.  You were 
blinded by your own dreams, your fantasy 
world.  I offered you my friendship, I 
truly did, but wanting something else you 
could not see it.  Perhaps you would not 
let yourself, I cannot say, but that is 
your problem, not mine."

"How quick to judgment you are!  I 
noticed it from the first time we spoke.  
Everything has to be put in its place for 
you to understand, doesn't it?  You were 
so quick to interpret my actions as 
fulfilling your desires.  And now that 
you have been disappointed you are 
equally quick to condemn me."

She waited.  "That man is really my 
lover, nothing more.  He has nothing to 
do with my work, he isn't a spy or 
anything like that: he's just my 
boyfriend."  

I couldn't contain my surprise:  "But Mr 
Ogawa!"

"Mr Ogawa lied to you, Mr Sato, and if he 
knew what I was telling you now it would 
not go well for me with him.  There is no 
spying going on here.  The only 
disinformation is what he told you.  I am 
not telling you this to defend myself, my 
honor, or my reputation, but simply out 
of friendship.  For your own sake.  I 
hope you can accept it."  

"But why Megumi?  Why would he make up 
such a thing?" I could not contain myself 
any longer.

"He actually values your work highly," 
she answered.  "You have done him a great 
service.  But by accepting your work he 
has placed himself in your debt.  He has 
to trust you Mr Sato.  Knowing what you 
know, you could hurt him, and he really 
does fear that you may give away some of 
his secrets, maybe inadvertently, but his 
fear and the possibility is real.  What 
he said this morning was merely an effort 
on his part to plant a seed of doubt in 
your mind, to taint the value of what you 
know.  Even now you are wondering if what 
I am telling you is the truth or just 
another lie.  He is shrewd: he knows that 
once planted the seed of doubt needs 
little cultivation.  It grows on its own.  
That is all he hoped to accomplish."

"You still are letting him use you, even 
if what you say is true," I said, my mind 
reeling, trying to keep up with the 
twists and turns of what I was hearing.

"Yes, to a point," she replied.  "He does 
use me.  The lure of me, really.  I live 
my personal life the way I wish and he 
capitalizes on it.  He knows about my 
lovers, their comings and goings, and he 
tolerates it.  I have no desire to 
control what others think of me so that, 
for the most part, if someone is laid low 
because of what he says about me it is no 
concern of mine.  When it affects me 
personally, as in this case, I take 
action.  You know this morning all you 
needed to do was ask me if what he said 
was true.  I would have denied it."

"In front of him, really?"  I felt 
stupid.

"That is why I was there at all," she 
answered.  "He really did not care either 
way.  The two of us discussed it.  All he 
wanted to do was plant the seed.  Once 
done it was of no concern to him what I 
said.  At other times I might have simply 
let it go, let whomever it was believe 
what they chose: but you I liked.  I feel 
a glimmer of familiarity between us.  I 
think you felt it too, from the start, 
but you jumped to a conclusion: that we 
should be lovers, that I wanted what you 
wanted.  Still, even so, there is 
something about you that I like."  She 
reached out to pat my arm.

"Mr Sato, you look so glum.  What did you 
expect from your week here anyway?  I 
would say you have gotten more than you 
could have ever wished for.  Perhaps not 
exactly what you wanted, but something 
stimulating in its own way."  She 
laughed, gently.

"Megumi, I don't know what to think, what 
to believe any more," I said, shaking my 
head.

She was still smiling.  "Don't think.  
For once just be."

"I feel badly, whatever the truth is," I 
said.

She sighed in mock exasperation.  "You 
just will not let go, will you?  What is 
it you feel badly about?"

"Well, Satomi for one thing,"  I said.  
"I feel guilty about..."

"She confides in me, you know," Megumi 
broke in.  "Yes, I know about her little 
hiding place and all that.  I would not 
allow it if we were not as close as we 
are, if I could not keep an eye out for 
her.  I know she gets jealous of me 
sometimes, but only because she is a 
young girl and frustrated. You can think 
what you will about our relationship; I 
am not about to justify it to you."

I opened my mouth to speak, but Megumi 
continued: "Besides, we had an 
interesting discussion this morning."

"Well, that's what I feel badly about 
Megumi," I stammered.  "I should have 
behaved better, shown a little more self 
control.  I don't like the way I acted.  
That's not who I am."

"Really?"  Megumi seemed to barely 
containing her mirth.  "Poor Ken Sato," 
she said.  "Forever wracked by guilt.  
When are you going to shake that off?  
Who cares who you are anyway?  Do you 
really think you can be something other 
than the sum of your actions?"

"But..."  I sputtered to a halt.  She was 
running rings around me, deftly exposing 
my weaknesses, yet her tone was gentle, 
cajoling rather than putting me down.

"Let me tell you one last thing Mr Sato.  
Satomi is strong.  She will take care of 
herself.  She will be just fine without 
you worrying about her.  You might think 
about this too on your long trip home: 
she's dying for it, you know."

I looked at her, puzzled.

" I mean to have sex."  She laughed.  
Don't look so surprised!  "She was ready 
and willing Mr Sato.  Now, how many men 
could spend a week in this place, pursued 
by such a nymph, and not be seduced?  
Your eyes were closed Mr Sato.  You fixed 
yourself with one idea and wouldn't 
entertain any other, even when it came 
begging to your door."

She cocked her head sideways, showing her 
amusement.  "To my mind what happened 
here is simple Mr Sato: you went down the 
wrong garden path, too blind see what lay 
around you, too stubborn to turn back."  

Megumi looked over her shoulder, towards 
the garden, as if she had heard some 
distant sound.  

"Farewell, and have a safe journey home!" 
she said, turning to face me one last 
time.

She  brought her face close and kissed my 
cheek.  Her eyes sparkled with mischief 
as she turned from me and began walking 
though the grove towards the path.  I 
stood watching as she emerged from the 
trees and continued on her way, skirting 
the edge of the pond.  She disappeared 
from view several times, only to reappear 
again farther away. I wondered about 
her, the things she had done, the things 
that she had said, unable to fathom what 
I had experienced.  At last she emerged 
from the trees on the stone bridge.  The 
wind had quieted and Megumi paused to 
look down at the water.  Her perfect 
reflection stared back at her from below 
until a small ripple blurred her outline 
into a mottled patch of moving water.  
Captivated by the patterns of light and 
color my eyes lingered their for an 
instant before looking up, only to 
discover she had gone.


Fin

Part 7 of 7

Richard Rivers 4/98


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