The maps that leads to you (2/4)
Sep. 2nd, 2014 03:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wendyjolyTitle: The map that leads to you
Author: WendyJoly
Pairing : Guess who~
Rating: NC-17
Lenght : Chaptered
Beta : Uchiwas and penlights to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chibipinkpetals
Genre: Love, curiosity and mistery
Disclaimer: I owe nothing but Arashi owns surely my soul
Summary : When Ninomiya Kazunari crosses the path of a mysterious and rich man, buying pieces of Art like he buys groceries, he decides to solve the mystery, even if he had to draw himself the map that leads to him.
PART 2
The travel back seems to never ending...
Surprisingly, nothing happens at the customs for the painting I have in my bag. I go back home directly without going to the journal like I used to do. I don't want to say the truth, I screwed up everything and I can’t tell that the Yoshimoto story is buried.
I climb my old building's stairs and surprised to not hear my cat's meow, I put the key in the door locking.
Well, I try but I quickly figure out that the door has been blocked. I put my bag on the floor, trying to remember a potential late payment for rent. But I can't.
I climb down and knock at my landlady's door who opens the door displaying a contrite look. I crouch to grab my cat in my arms as it mews then stand up to look at her coldly.
« Can you explain to me why my door is blocked? »
« That's...when you were away...there was water damage and your apartment has been ruined. There's some substantial work to do... »
« And my things? »
« Oh don't worry, everything is okay! »
« Wonderful. What do I do now? »
« That's the point. My cousin is an estate agent, I called him to explain your problem and he found you a new apartment. »
Seeing her face, I have the feeling I just won the lottery...I don't really see why I should be so happy.
« Where ? »
« At the centre of Tokyo, not far from here. I'll give you the address, there. » says the old lady handing me a note with the name of the biggest artery of Tokyo.
« You can go right now, you're things are already there.”
« When could I come back? »
« I'll call you when your apartment will be ready, but not before few months I’m afraid. »
« A few months?! »
« You know, the plumbers, the masons... »
« Forget it...come Milk. »
I grip my bag and go to the address she gave me, the key already in my pocket. What a lovely return...
Aware of my land lady stinginess, I can't hope anything from the apartment she found for me. Plus, the idea she took my stuffs is enough to drive me mad.
I'm baffled when I face a brand new building at the address she gave me. A guard in uniform opens the door and I nod, embarrassed to bother him, obviously, I'm at the wrong place.
But he escorts me at the elevator, indicating me at the same time the way to go to my new flat.
I think I have lost my mind when I enter the apartment where my belongings are already settled. I get it. It's a trick to take my money with an ultra-expensive rent....I call my land lady and once again she's sorry for the inconvenience but assures that my rent is unchanged. Is she kidding me? I ask his cousin's number and call him directly. He confirms she tells the truth and that a contract is waiting for me on my desk. My desk?!
I hang up the phone and walk around my new apartment. There's a huge balcony from where I can see the Tokyo tower, a little greenhouse where some flowers I never saw before just bloomed.
There's a bedroom and a big study, a fully equipped kitchen and a bathroom bigger than my entire old apartment. I find the contract on the desk like the estate agent told me and everything seems perfectly normal. It's insane. I should play to lottery to enjoy this crazy luck.
Though… since a long time I know that nothing is free in life and the Master painting I delicately put in my bedroom is winking at me insistently.
Him? No way.
I take a hot bath and eat in the little restaurant at the corner of the street to enjoy the pleasure to pass the threshold of this wonderful apartment once again.
I can't understand what happened between us and I’m more puzzled now than I met him.
Yet, I'm absolutely convinced that this man will be the regret of my life. What a shit...I don't even know his real name and he probably forgot me by now...why am I so freaked out?
Eventually, I kick my ass into gear and go back to the journal to tell my fiasco. At least the visible part of the iceberg. My boss doesn't seem to be surprised to see me in his office and he asks me to sit after offering me a coffee.
« So, Monte Negro ? »
« I saw him, I saw the auctioneer too but the auction was cancelled the very morning... »
« You think they knew? »
« Having a journalist after them is not enough to cancel this kind of event. Something must have happened. »
I'm struck by lightning.
It can't be because of me that he cancelled everything; he could have just ignored me to make me disappear from his life.
« Too bad, you'll have another scoop... »
« I'm pissed to have worked so much for nothing. »
« Nino? »
« Yeah? »
« I've got good news. I'm pretty sure it will cheer you up. »
« Go on. »
« I saw the big boss. He talked to me about you. »
« He talked about me? I don't know him...what does he want to me? »
« He wants to offer you a publication. »
I could have fallen from my chair. I'm used to be scowled at but certainly not to be congratulated...
« Me? Editor-in-chief? »
« Exactly. »
« What kind of publication? »
« You chose. »
« Are you kidding me? I did nothing special to deserve it. »
« Someone noticed your outstanding natural talent. Or, you just fucked the right person, who knows ? » I hate his laugher and his big jolting belly. He doesn't imagine how much he’s right.
I stand up and open the door.
« Nino, it's a joke, just a joke! But the proposition is real, you have to give an answer! »
« Me? Working 24/24, wearing a suit and drawing a line on my job as free-lance? Have you looked at me? »
« You're really a jerk if you miss such an occasion. »
He seems deadly serious now. I know how much he jockeyed to obtain this job, but we're different. My freedom of thoughts and my independence are above all, even if I know how much this work can be attractive. Power, notoriety, money...not for me.
I don't care to be broke if I can decide tomorrow to take a flight to Monte Negro on a whim to trek in the mountains.
I'm gonna walk a bit, taking the time to think over it. What does he want from me? This fancy apartment, this job? What's next, a Ferrari?
If I accept this work, I leave him alone; I don't have enough time to chase him anymore. Am I such a threat for him? It's not realistic for a man like him...
Or is he still paying me for this sole night we spend together? This idea gives me the impulse to smash everything around me.
It was so beautiful, so intense and passionate, how can he turn this into a commercial relation, making a gigolo of me?
I will find him and throw him the painting on his face...
That's the only solution I’ve found after a couple of hours of reflexion.
Hm...
All it left for me is to find him even if I already spent months to find him before.
But this time I'm well prepared, I know what he looks like, I know his secretary's face and above all I possess a painting he owned.
I put it in its protective leather tube back and I drive through the city when the night begins to fall. In a quiet neighbourhood, I slide the door of a loft. I can hear John Lennon's voice softened. I smirk.
« Knock knock. »
He's on the roof like I though, painting with a candle light. His hands are covered with paint and a cigarette is hanging at the corner of his pouted lips. He smiles gently when he notices me.
« Oh, Nino! It's been a long time. »
« Hi Satoshi. »
He hugs me and I kiss his neck, smelling the solvent smell which always covers his hands.
« Come on in, the night air is cold. »
We sit down on the antiquated sofa, a beer in hand and I look around; me drooling about his last masterpiece. He's an artist, a talented painter who never broke through because of his lack of connexion in the contemporary Art world. So in order to keep on painting without searching for a benefactor he found a less 'traditional' way. He became a counterfeiter and he's now the best of the profession. He can replicate perfectly any centuries painting. He even created a process which can imitate the passage of time and only a hand of experts in the world are able to make the difference between his work and the real painting.
We're lovers from time to time, friends always and that's thanks to him that I obtained the most part of the information about the secret auctions. He knows Matsumoto, this latter introduced him a lot of clients, but he never met Yoshimoto at all.
« So you found him? » He knows how much I’m fascinated by him.
« Yes. In Monte Negro for the auction you talked to me about. I’ll tell you everything, it's pure madness, but before...can you check out this painting for me? »
I hand him the tube and he takes out the painting cautiously. He swallows hard when he unwraps it after putting white gloves.
« Seifu Tsuda?! How did you get that? »
I tell him briefly my encounter with Taruma, the night we spent together, glad that we're not in an exclusive relationship, excluding jealousy, and finally the painting he gave me. Then my return at Tokyo, the luxurious apartment, the job...and my endless questions.
« I can assure you it's not a copy. And look at this. »
He takes off the official auction booklet and turns the pages until he finds the painting in question. He offered me a painting legally bought. If I decided to sale it, I won’t have to work anymore during this life and the next one…
« For the rest, how could I put it? You spent the night with a man you don't know and who decided to offer you a Master piece of Art. Why are you angry? »
« Satoshi...I don't understand. »
« He's rich, he doesn't know how to spend his money, if he gave you a gift because you had a crazy night of sex, why would you refuse? »
« I make love with him because I liked him, it was a night-sorry Satoshi- like no others, I'm disgusted he gave me money for it. He hurt my pride, somehow…»
« I'm not vexed, don't worry and you don't have to be disgusted except... »
« Except what...? »
« Except if you think it was a not only sex, it was the beginning of a story maybe... »
« ... »
« You're in love with him? »
Of course, I'm in love, how could it be differently, since I can't think about anything except him since we met?
« So what are you doing here? Go find him! »
« If I knew where he is... »
« London. He's in London. At least, Matsumoto is in London in this very moment. »
« Fuck, you could have told me sooner! »
« You didn’t ask»
« Brat. »
He straddles me and kisses me languidly.
« You stay tonight? »
He puts his hands under my T-shirt, stroking my stomach with his thin hands and the edge of my jeans to excite me unsubtly. Yet, I dream about other hands, less pretty but only the thought is enough to harden me.
« I'll go home. I've got a flight for London tomorrow. » I rise slowly, pushing him delicately. « Thanks Satoshi. For everything. »
I put my jacket and slide the loft's door, stopping when he calls me.
« Nino? »
« What? »
« I'll do an exhibition. A gallery offered me tons of cash for a retrospective of my work. »
« I bet they did... »
He waves at me and I mirror him then climb into a taxi, my heart already between Tokyo and London.
First thing the next morning, I’m at my parent’s place to entrust them my cat and the painting.
They don’t ask anything, they are used to my unpredictable travels.
Buying a ticket for London isn’t the most difficult thing in an airport as Narita and I’m at Heathrow the next day as the December snow begins to fall. I’ve been lucky…it was close for me to miss the flight.
I take a cab and drive to Piccadilly Circus where set the hotel I used to stay when I’m in the English Capital. It’s not expensive, in the heart of the city, perfect for me. Once settled, I go outside to enjoy this magic town where some of my idols lived. I run across the Londoners who are running the shops to buy their Christmas gifts, I can’t help but enjoying to be here in this so particular period.
At the little kiosk at the corner of the street, I buy the art magazines and sit in a coffee shop to drink a tea and eat scones to look at them. I begin to recognize the kind of piece which interest him. He or Matsumoto.
A master painting, pretty unknown, liked by the aficionados because it’s a turning point in the work of the artist. I spot some and to confirm my intuition, I call Satoshi. Lucky for me, he’s a night bird and my call doesn’t surprise him.
“The Warhol undoubtedly.”
“Warhol, sure?
“100%, Matsumoto asked me to paint one last month.”
“Hm...just to be sure…that’s not this one?”
“Nope, it’s for a retrospective at Tokyo, the insurers asked to the gallery owner to display copies and not the originals.”
“And the painting of the sale?”
“He’s not like what he used to paint. I could give you some technical details but you don’t give a shit, right?”
“I won’t be so harsh…”
“When is the sale?”
“Tonight, at Sotheby’s.”
“Go to see Weasley at Nottingham. He’s a buyer who helps you to attend to the sale, tell him I sent you.”
“You save my life, Satoshi.”
“You owe me one.”
“Promise.”
I run to Nottingham where the antics shops are numerous and I meet this Weasley who knows Satoshi and praises his work. Seeing his wink, I guess he doesn’t talk about his official work, but I’m cautious and don’t tell an unnecessary word.
At 8 PM I’m at Sotheby where there are a lot of strollers and some potential buyers. I wear my most classic suit and I melt in the crowd, supposing he won’t appear before the beginning of the sale. For some reason, he always attends the auction in person, this man who cherishes his anonymity so much. Yet, I’m surprised to sight the secretary; a booklet in the hand, observing the paintings which will be sale tonight. I don’t lose his track and I enter the auction room behind him. Matsumoto is sitting at the first rank, like always and when the light is dimmed down, I stare at the door.
The first painting, the second one and I feel the tension rising in the room even if mine has already reached its maximum. I’m going meet him. And if he didn’t come at all?
I turn around to glance at his butler and when I come back to the other side of the room I see him. He’s here, – wearing a tailor suit, black frame glasses and the thumb negligently rubbing his inferior lip – leaning against the wall .
I know he felt my presence before I cross his gaze. He looks in my direction but not at me, as if I was a ghost. Yet, he rises suddenly and exits the room after a vague gesture to his butler. Oh fuck no, you won’t escape so easily! I run after him as discreetly as I can and catch him at the cloakroom.
“Tamura!”
He doesn’t answer and turns tail as if I didn’t exist. Yet, I didn’t fly half across the world to give up when I finally face him, so I grab his arm in the street
“Sir?” he sounds to be sincerely surprised and it hurts much more than I thought.
So he doesn’t care about me to that extend?
“Are you kidding me?” I’m furious and his gaze search for the guards at the entrance of the auction room. Does he really think I will attack him?!
“May I help you?” His voice is shaky.
“Less than a month ago, we spent the night together in a hotel of Monte Negro and you left me a master painting. Don’t act as if you didn’t remember.”
“I beg your pardon, I don’t get what you mean, you’re surely wrong.” He tries to walk by me after giving me confused expression, as if I was a total lunatic. Suddenly I doubt of myself. Am I nuts? Is he a different man? Fuck, I doubt of myself, it’s crazy. I step aside, trying to prevent his escape.
“You can forget the night you spent with a guy you barely know, right, but not a million dollars painting, I won’t swallow it.”
“Obviously, you’re taking me for someone else. I’m sorry, but I would have to ask for help to the guards if you persist on holding me back.”
He even changed his voice. I don’t get it. He speaks English with a perfect cockney accent. Yet it’s him, I’m sure of it. I want to shake him; to force him to admit the truth, to tell him I came here to see him and that I still want him.
“Tamura…I won’t write about you, I just wanted to see you. I wanted to talk with you about the night we spent together, to tell you it haunts me…”
“Your conversation is improper and insulting. This is my last warning, Sir.”
It’s discouraging. I didn’t expect this situation and I’m convinced he won’t change his mind, he will stand firm. I smirk bitterly because I finally understood his method to remain anonymous. He’s a talented actor who could deceive his own mother. Truly said, in this very moment, I sincerely think I dreamt our last encounter. I could howl in anger. But I simply move and let him pass. I keep my eyes on his slim silhouette until the moment the cab he got into has turned at the corner of the street. And now?
I go back to the auction room and I’m not even surprised when I can’t find the butler and the auctioneer back.
I failed once again, it’s unequivocal.
All it left to me is to take the first flight for home tomorrow morning.
I drink a bit at the pub at the corner of the street and when I go back to the hotel the night is already fallen. I just passed the threshold of my bedroom when someone grabs me by the neck, squeezing my throat vigorously. My first thought is that this is a thief but I have nothing to be stolen. I try to struggle and turn the head, astonished to recognize Tamura’s butler.
“Now I will release my grip on your throat and you won’t scream. You will answer to my questions, that’s all. Okay?”
I nod slowly and feel his grip loosen.
“Why are you chasing him? For your article?”
“No.”
“Are you trying to denunciate him?”
“No.”
“So?”
“I wanted to see him again.”
It sounds to be so idiotic and improbable; I could laugh if my situation wasn’t so critical.
I stare at him obstinately, thinking I’m living my last hour. Behind his benevolent behaviour, he’s much more a bodyguard than a butler. And surprisingly…I’m almost satisfied to see him here because it means his employer knows who I am. He releases me completely and I massage my painful neck. He’s sitting on a chair and intertwines his fingers. He gazes at me, trying visibly to fathom me.
“Aiba Masaki, nice to meet you.”
“Ninomiya Kazunari, same here.”
It sounds to be so absurd to be so polite in such a circumstance but he smiles gently. Am I the only one to have a bit of common sense in this story?
“Excuse me for having…”
“Strangling me?”
“That’s the word, thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I will get through this.”
“Sorry. I was worried.”
“Because I’m a threat?”
“Exactly.”
“Did he send you?”
“He doesn’t even know I’m here. I came by myself.”
“Why does he do that?”
“What?”
“As if he didn’t remember me.”
“Because he wants to get rid of you, I guess.”
“It’s clear.”
“Is it enough to stop you?”
“Maybe not. Your hand on my throat in the middle of the night, perhaps.”
“I won’t hurt you.”
“Why?”
“Because, as mad as it seems, I believe you, because as mad as it seems, I think he cares about you.”
I sit on the bed and face him.
“Help me to approach him.”
“He will kill me if I do. But…”
“But?”
“Have you ever been to Canada before?”
“Never.”
“What a shame, it’s a beautiful country…especially the savage coast, around the Moraine Lake, Alberta State.”
He rises and opens the door after a last smirk.
“Thanks.”
He nods and vanishes in silence.
I lay down, my heart beating madly, finally glad to keep on the scavenger hunt now I found an ally in the place.
When I pay the bill the next morning, I’m not really surprised when the employee hands me an envelope. Official’s sheets allowing me to enter Canada territory and a ticket flight for Quebec. A one-way ticket airline but it’s better than everything I could have dreamt of.
Once again, I take a cab for the airport and my heart is finally in peace as I take my flight. I don’t pinpoint what he did to me this night but it’s unthinkable to do as if I never crossed his road. As mad as it seems, I can't imagine my life without him, as if I have lost a part of me when he ran away from me. How could I get through this, find my life back, find the envy to be me without him? I had no response and I sincerely hoped he would be the solution to the problem he was for me since months.
He was already the centre of my life, before our encounter, without notice and today I missed him so much that it hurt. I missed his presence, his hands on me. I don't understand what has happened to me but I couldn’t struggle, wishing from the bottom of my heart that my sincerity would touch him.
Author: WendyJoly
Pairing : Guess who~
Rating: NC-17
Lenght : Chaptered
Beta : Uchiwas and penlights to
chibipinkpetalsGenre: Love, curiosity and mistery
Disclaimer: I owe nothing but Arashi owns surely my soul
Summary : When Ninomiya Kazunari crosses the path of a mysterious and rich man, buying pieces of Art like he buys groceries, he decides to solve the mystery, even if he had to draw himself the map that leads to him.
PART 2
The travel back seems to never ending...
Surprisingly, nothing happens at the customs for the painting I have in my bag. I go back home directly without going to the journal like I used to do. I don't want to say the truth, I screwed up everything and I can’t tell that the Yoshimoto story is buried.
I climb my old building's stairs and surprised to not hear my cat's meow, I put the key in the door locking.
Well, I try but I quickly figure out that the door has been blocked. I put my bag on the floor, trying to remember a potential late payment for rent. But I can't.
I climb down and knock at my landlady's door who opens the door displaying a contrite look. I crouch to grab my cat in my arms as it mews then stand up to look at her coldly.
« Can you explain to me why my door is blocked? »
« That's...when you were away...there was water damage and your apartment has been ruined. There's some substantial work to do... »
« And my things? »
« Oh don't worry, everything is okay! »
« Wonderful. What do I do now? »
« That's the point. My cousin is an estate agent, I called him to explain your problem and he found you a new apartment. »
Seeing her face, I have the feeling I just won the lottery...I don't really see why I should be so happy.
« Where ? »
« At the centre of Tokyo, not far from here. I'll give you the address, there. » says the old lady handing me a note with the name of the biggest artery of Tokyo.
« You can go right now, you're things are already there.”
« When could I come back? »
« I'll call you when your apartment will be ready, but not before few months I’m afraid. »
« A few months?! »
« You know, the plumbers, the masons... »
« Forget it...come Milk. »
I grip my bag and go to the address she gave me, the key already in my pocket. What a lovely return...
Aware of my land lady stinginess, I can't hope anything from the apartment she found for me. Plus, the idea she took my stuffs is enough to drive me mad.
I'm baffled when I face a brand new building at the address she gave me. A guard in uniform opens the door and I nod, embarrassed to bother him, obviously, I'm at the wrong place.
But he escorts me at the elevator, indicating me at the same time the way to go to my new flat.
I think I have lost my mind when I enter the apartment where my belongings are already settled. I get it. It's a trick to take my money with an ultra-expensive rent....I call my land lady and once again she's sorry for the inconvenience but assures that my rent is unchanged. Is she kidding me? I ask his cousin's number and call him directly. He confirms she tells the truth and that a contract is waiting for me on my desk. My desk?!
I hang up the phone and walk around my new apartment. There's a huge balcony from where I can see the Tokyo tower, a little greenhouse where some flowers I never saw before just bloomed.
There's a bedroom and a big study, a fully equipped kitchen and a bathroom bigger than my entire old apartment. I find the contract on the desk like the estate agent told me and everything seems perfectly normal. It's insane. I should play to lottery to enjoy this crazy luck.
Though… since a long time I know that nothing is free in life and the Master painting I delicately put in my bedroom is winking at me insistently.
Him? No way.
I take a hot bath and eat in the little restaurant at the corner of the street to enjoy the pleasure to pass the threshold of this wonderful apartment once again.
I can't understand what happened between us and I’m more puzzled now than I met him.
Yet, I'm absolutely convinced that this man will be the regret of my life. What a shit...I don't even know his real name and he probably forgot me by now...why am I so freaked out?
Eventually, I kick my ass into gear and go back to the journal to tell my fiasco. At least the visible part of the iceberg. My boss doesn't seem to be surprised to see me in his office and he asks me to sit after offering me a coffee.
« So, Monte Negro ? »
« I saw him, I saw the auctioneer too but the auction was cancelled the very morning... »
« You think they knew? »
« Having a journalist after them is not enough to cancel this kind of event. Something must have happened. »
I'm struck by lightning.
It can't be because of me that he cancelled everything; he could have just ignored me to make me disappear from his life.
« Too bad, you'll have another scoop... »
« I'm pissed to have worked so much for nothing. »
« Nino? »
« Yeah? »
« I've got good news. I'm pretty sure it will cheer you up. »
« Go on. »
« I saw the big boss. He talked to me about you. »
« He talked about me? I don't know him...what does he want to me? »
« He wants to offer you a publication. »
I could have fallen from my chair. I'm used to be scowled at but certainly not to be congratulated...
« Me? Editor-in-chief? »
« Exactly. »
« What kind of publication? »
« You chose. »
« Are you kidding me? I did nothing special to deserve it. »
« Someone noticed your outstanding natural talent. Or, you just fucked the right person, who knows ? » I hate his laugher and his big jolting belly. He doesn't imagine how much he’s right.
I stand up and open the door.
« Nino, it's a joke, just a joke! But the proposition is real, you have to give an answer! »
« Me? Working 24/24, wearing a suit and drawing a line on my job as free-lance? Have you looked at me? »
« You're really a jerk if you miss such an occasion. »
He seems deadly serious now. I know how much he jockeyed to obtain this job, but we're different. My freedom of thoughts and my independence are above all, even if I know how much this work can be attractive. Power, notoriety, money...not for me.
I don't care to be broke if I can decide tomorrow to take a flight to Monte Negro on a whim to trek in the mountains.
I'm gonna walk a bit, taking the time to think over it. What does he want from me? This fancy apartment, this job? What's next, a Ferrari?
If I accept this work, I leave him alone; I don't have enough time to chase him anymore. Am I such a threat for him? It's not realistic for a man like him...
Or is he still paying me for this sole night we spend together? This idea gives me the impulse to smash everything around me.
It was so beautiful, so intense and passionate, how can he turn this into a commercial relation, making a gigolo of me?
I will find him and throw him the painting on his face...
That's the only solution I’ve found after a couple of hours of reflexion.
Hm...
All it left for me is to find him even if I already spent months to find him before.
But this time I'm well prepared, I know what he looks like, I know his secretary's face and above all I possess a painting he owned.
I put it in its protective leather tube back and I drive through the city when the night begins to fall. In a quiet neighbourhood, I slide the door of a loft. I can hear John Lennon's voice softened. I smirk.
« Knock knock. »
He's on the roof like I though, painting with a candle light. His hands are covered with paint and a cigarette is hanging at the corner of his pouted lips. He smiles gently when he notices me.
« Oh, Nino! It's been a long time. »
« Hi Satoshi. »
He hugs me and I kiss his neck, smelling the solvent smell which always covers his hands.
« Come on in, the night air is cold. »
We sit down on the antiquated sofa, a beer in hand and I look around; me drooling about his last masterpiece. He's an artist, a talented painter who never broke through because of his lack of connexion in the contemporary Art world. So in order to keep on painting without searching for a benefactor he found a less 'traditional' way. He became a counterfeiter and he's now the best of the profession. He can replicate perfectly any centuries painting. He even created a process which can imitate the passage of time and only a hand of experts in the world are able to make the difference between his work and the real painting.
We're lovers from time to time, friends always and that's thanks to him that I obtained the most part of the information about the secret auctions. He knows Matsumoto, this latter introduced him a lot of clients, but he never met Yoshimoto at all.
« So you found him? » He knows how much I’m fascinated by him.
« Yes. In Monte Negro for the auction you talked to me about. I’ll tell you everything, it's pure madness, but before...can you check out this painting for me? »
I hand him the tube and he takes out the painting cautiously. He swallows hard when he unwraps it after putting white gloves.
« Seifu Tsuda?! How did you get that? »
I tell him briefly my encounter with Taruma, the night we spent together, glad that we're not in an exclusive relationship, excluding jealousy, and finally the painting he gave me. Then my return at Tokyo, the luxurious apartment, the job...and my endless questions.
« I can assure you it's not a copy. And look at this. »
He takes off the official auction booklet and turns the pages until he finds the painting in question. He offered me a painting legally bought. If I decided to sale it, I won’t have to work anymore during this life and the next one…
« For the rest, how could I put it? You spent the night with a man you don't know and who decided to offer you a Master piece of Art. Why are you angry? »
« Satoshi...I don't understand. »
« He's rich, he doesn't know how to spend his money, if he gave you a gift because you had a crazy night of sex, why would you refuse? »
« I make love with him because I liked him, it was a night-sorry Satoshi- like no others, I'm disgusted he gave me money for it. He hurt my pride, somehow…»
« I'm not vexed, don't worry and you don't have to be disgusted except... »
« Except what...? »
« Except if you think it was a not only sex, it was the beginning of a story maybe... »
« ... »
« You're in love with him? »
Of course, I'm in love, how could it be differently, since I can't think about anything except him since we met?
« So what are you doing here? Go find him! »
« If I knew where he is... »
« London. He's in London. At least, Matsumoto is in London in this very moment. »
« Fuck, you could have told me sooner! »
« You didn’t ask»
« Brat. »
He straddles me and kisses me languidly.
« You stay tonight? »
He puts his hands under my T-shirt, stroking my stomach with his thin hands and the edge of my jeans to excite me unsubtly. Yet, I dream about other hands, less pretty but only the thought is enough to harden me.
« I'll go home. I've got a flight for London tomorrow. » I rise slowly, pushing him delicately. « Thanks Satoshi. For everything. »
I put my jacket and slide the loft's door, stopping when he calls me.
« Nino? »
« What? »
« I'll do an exhibition. A gallery offered me tons of cash for a retrospective of my work. »
« I bet they did... »
He waves at me and I mirror him then climb into a taxi, my heart already between Tokyo and London.
First thing the next morning, I’m at my parent’s place to entrust them my cat and the painting.
They don’t ask anything, they are used to my unpredictable travels.
Buying a ticket for London isn’t the most difficult thing in an airport as Narita and I’m at Heathrow the next day as the December snow begins to fall. I’ve been lucky…it was close for me to miss the flight.
I take a cab and drive to Piccadilly Circus where set the hotel I used to stay when I’m in the English Capital. It’s not expensive, in the heart of the city, perfect for me. Once settled, I go outside to enjoy this magic town where some of my idols lived. I run across the Londoners who are running the shops to buy their Christmas gifts, I can’t help but enjoying to be here in this so particular period.
At the little kiosk at the corner of the street, I buy the art magazines and sit in a coffee shop to drink a tea and eat scones to look at them. I begin to recognize the kind of piece which interest him. He or Matsumoto.
A master painting, pretty unknown, liked by the aficionados because it’s a turning point in the work of the artist. I spot some and to confirm my intuition, I call Satoshi. Lucky for me, he’s a night bird and my call doesn’t surprise him.
“The Warhol undoubtedly.”
“Warhol, sure?
“100%, Matsumoto asked me to paint one last month.”
“Hm...just to be sure…that’s not this one?”
“Nope, it’s for a retrospective at Tokyo, the insurers asked to the gallery owner to display copies and not the originals.”
“And the painting of the sale?”
“He’s not like what he used to paint. I could give you some technical details but you don’t give a shit, right?”
“I won’t be so harsh…”
“When is the sale?”
“Tonight, at Sotheby’s.”
“Go to see Weasley at Nottingham. He’s a buyer who helps you to attend to the sale, tell him I sent you.”
“You save my life, Satoshi.”
“You owe me one.”
“Promise.”
I run to Nottingham where the antics shops are numerous and I meet this Weasley who knows Satoshi and praises his work. Seeing his wink, I guess he doesn’t talk about his official work, but I’m cautious and don’t tell an unnecessary word.
At 8 PM I’m at Sotheby where there are a lot of strollers and some potential buyers. I wear my most classic suit and I melt in the crowd, supposing he won’t appear before the beginning of the sale. For some reason, he always attends the auction in person, this man who cherishes his anonymity so much. Yet, I’m surprised to sight the secretary; a booklet in the hand, observing the paintings which will be sale tonight. I don’t lose his track and I enter the auction room behind him. Matsumoto is sitting at the first rank, like always and when the light is dimmed down, I stare at the door.
The first painting, the second one and I feel the tension rising in the room even if mine has already reached its maximum. I’m going meet him. And if he didn’t come at all?
I turn around to glance at his butler and when I come back to the other side of the room I see him. He’s here, – wearing a tailor suit, black frame glasses and the thumb negligently rubbing his inferior lip – leaning against the wall .
I know he felt my presence before I cross his gaze. He looks in my direction but not at me, as if I was a ghost. Yet, he rises suddenly and exits the room after a vague gesture to his butler. Oh fuck no, you won’t escape so easily! I run after him as discreetly as I can and catch him at the cloakroom.
“Tamura!”
He doesn’t answer and turns tail as if I didn’t exist. Yet, I didn’t fly half across the world to give up when I finally face him, so I grab his arm in the street
“Sir?” he sounds to be sincerely surprised and it hurts much more than I thought.
So he doesn’t care about me to that extend?
“Are you kidding me?” I’m furious and his gaze search for the guards at the entrance of the auction room. Does he really think I will attack him?!
“May I help you?” His voice is shaky.
“Less than a month ago, we spent the night together in a hotel of Monte Negro and you left me a master painting. Don’t act as if you didn’t remember.”
“I beg your pardon, I don’t get what you mean, you’re surely wrong.” He tries to walk by me after giving me confused expression, as if I was a total lunatic. Suddenly I doubt of myself. Am I nuts? Is he a different man? Fuck, I doubt of myself, it’s crazy. I step aside, trying to prevent his escape.
“You can forget the night you spent with a guy you barely know, right, but not a million dollars painting, I won’t swallow it.”
“Obviously, you’re taking me for someone else. I’m sorry, but I would have to ask for help to the guards if you persist on holding me back.”
He even changed his voice. I don’t get it. He speaks English with a perfect cockney accent. Yet it’s him, I’m sure of it. I want to shake him; to force him to admit the truth, to tell him I came here to see him and that I still want him.
“Tamura…I won’t write about you, I just wanted to see you. I wanted to talk with you about the night we spent together, to tell you it haunts me…”
“Your conversation is improper and insulting. This is my last warning, Sir.”
It’s discouraging. I didn’t expect this situation and I’m convinced he won’t change his mind, he will stand firm. I smirk bitterly because I finally understood his method to remain anonymous. He’s a talented actor who could deceive his own mother. Truly said, in this very moment, I sincerely think I dreamt our last encounter. I could howl in anger. But I simply move and let him pass. I keep my eyes on his slim silhouette until the moment the cab he got into has turned at the corner of the street. And now?
I go back to the auction room and I’m not even surprised when I can’t find the butler and the auctioneer back.
I failed once again, it’s unequivocal.
All it left to me is to take the first flight for home tomorrow morning.
I drink a bit at the pub at the corner of the street and when I go back to the hotel the night is already fallen. I just passed the threshold of my bedroom when someone grabs me by the neck, squeezing my throat vigorously. My first thought is that this is a thief but I have nothing to be stolen. I try to struggle and turn the head, astonished to recognize Tamura’s butler.
“Now I will release my grip on your throat and you won’t scream. You will answer to my questions, that’s all. Okay?”
I nod slowly and feel his grip loosen.
“Why are you chasing him? For your article?”
“No.”
“Are you trying to denunciate him?”
“No.”
“So?”
“I wanted to see him again.”
It sounds to be so idiotic and improbable; I could laugh if my situation wasn’t so critical.
I stare at him obstinately, thinking I’m living my last hour. Behind his benevolent behaviour, he’s much more a bodyguard than a butler. And surprisingly…I’m almost satisfied to see him here because it means his employer knows who I am. He releases me completely and I massage my painful neck. He’s sitting on a chair and intertwines his fingers. He gazes at me, trying visibly to fathom me.
“Aiba Masaki, nice to meet you.”
“Ninomiya Kazunari, same here.”
It sounds to be so absurd to be so polite in such a circumstance but he smiles gently. Am I the only one to have a bit of common sense in this story?
“Excuse me for having…”
“Strangling me?”
“That’s the word, thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I will get through this.”
“Sorry. I was worried.”
“Because I’m a threat?”
“Exactly.”
“Did he send you?”
“He doesn’t even know I’m here. I came by myself.”
“Why does he do that?”
“What?”
“As if he didn’t remember me.”
“Because he wants to get rid of you, I guess.”
“It’s clear.”
“Is it enough to stop you?”
“Maybe not. Your hand on my throat in the middle of the night, perhaps.”
“I won’t hurt you.”
“Why?”
“Because, as mad as it seems, I believe you, because as mad as it seems, I think he cares about you.”
I sit on the bed and face him.
“Help me to approach him.”
“He will kill me if I do. But…”
“But?”
“Have you ever been to Canada before?”
“Never.”
“What a shame, it’s a beautiful country…especially the savage coast, around the Moraine Lake, Alberta State.”
He rises and opens the door after a last smirk.
“Thanks.”
He nods and vanishes in silence.
I lay down, my heart beating madly, finally glad to keep on the scavenger hunt now I found an ally in the place.
When I pay the bill the next morning, I’m not really surprised when the employee hands me an envelope. Official’s sheets allowing me to enter Canada territory and a ticket flight for Quebec. A one-way ticket airline but it’s better than everything I could have dreamt of.
Once again, I take a cab for the airport and my heart is finally in peace as I take my flight. I don’t pinpoint what he did to me this night but it’s unthinkable to do as if I never crossed his road. As mad as it seems, I can't imagine my life without him, as if I have lost a part of me when he ran away from me. How could I get through this, find my life back, find the envy to be me without him? I had no response and I sincerely hoped he would be the solution to the problem he was for me since months.
He was already the centre of my life, before our encounter, without notice and today I missed him so much that it hurt. I missed his presence, his hands on me. I don't understand what has happened to me but I couldn’t struggle, wishing from the bottom of my heart that my sincerity would touch him.
