Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2659703.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Umineko_no_Naku_Koro_ni_|_When_the_Seagulls_Cry
  Relationship:
      Ushiromiya_Kinzo/Ronoue_Genji
  Character:
      Ushiromiya_Kinzo, Ronoue_Genji
  Additional Tags:
      Sad, Angst, Unrequited_Love, Internalized_Homophobia, Period-Typical
      Homophobia, Additional_Warnings_In_Author's_Note, Other_Additional_Tags
      to_Be_Added, Eventual_Sex, this_is_really_messed_up_okay, genji's_life_is
      messed_up
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-11-25 Updated: 2015-12-14 Chapters: 8/? Words: 9709
****** The Tale of Genji ******
by bloodstonepentagram
Summary
     The story of Genji's life and his relationship with Kinzo. Content
     warnings in the Author's Note.
     (The first five chapters have been edited since they first went up to
     fit better with Genji's backstory in the manga.)
Notes
     This story is intended to be as canon-compliant as possible. The
     following warnings apply to the story as a whole:
     -Internalized homophobia
     -Thoughts of suicide
     -Alcoholism
     -Mentions of rape, incest and pedophilia
     -Probably some eventual transphobia and general misunderstanding of
     how sex and gender work
     -General sadness
     -Probably graphic depictions of violence
     -A lot of sexual content, some of it potentially upsetting
     I might add to this list/the story's tags as it progresses.
     This is neither a harsh nor tragic story.
***** Memories *****
Chapter Notes
     I've paired each chapter with a Mountain Goats song. The song for the
     chapter is Song_For_An_Old_Friend.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Genji had always seen a resemblance between Battler and Kinzo, but as he stood
before him now, six years later, it was all he could do to maintain his
composure as he looked into the grinning face of his old friend.
“Battler-sama, we have not met in a long while,” he said, bowing, hoping his
voice would remain steady.
“Genji-san,” Battler said with a fond smile. They even sounded alike. “It
really has been a while! You look well.”
“Thank you, I have been quite well,” Genji managed. Unable to stop himself, he
added, “Battler-sama, you have become a splendid young man… You have grown to
resemble the Master in his youth.”
“I’m looking like Grandfather? I guess that means he was pretty popular when he
was young.” Battler giggled, and even his laugh reminded Genji of Kinzo.
As Genji showed the family through the house he tried not to let his thoughts
wander too much. And yet, as so often happened in old age, memories resurfaced
in spite of him, rising like flotsam bobbing to the water’s surface in the
aftermath of a storm.
Genji had first met Kinzo when they were too young to remember. He did know
that they played together almost every day as children, climbing trees, racing
through their gardens. They loved to compete with each other, in those days.
Everything was a contest with them.
“Betcha I can reach the top of that hill first, Kin-chan!”
“No way!”
They ran stumbling up the hill, tripping over their shoes, shoving at each
other as they both neared the top.
“I win!!”
“You cheated!”
“Did not!”
They would begin to fight, and then wrestle until they forgot that they were
fighting for anything other than fun, and then they would laugh and move on to
the next game.
As they got older the nature of the competitions changed. They started
wandering further away from their families’ homes, and started to discover new
kinds of fun, the kind that sometimes involved firecrackers and petty theft,
the kind that sometimes still ended in a fight, although more often than not it
was Kinzo and Genji fighting together, and things were a little more serious.
“I’m gonna start carrying a knife,” Genji said one day after they’d been badly
beaten in a fight and were limping their way homeward. His arm was slung over
Kinzo’s shoulder, and he was leaning on his friend heavily. “That way no one
will mess with us.”
Kinzo just laughed, a full-throated laugh that resonated all through Genji’s
body. “That’d be something to see, wouldn’t it? Come on, Gen-chan, try
supporting your own weight a little, you’re making my shoulder hurt.”
Genji didn’t end up getting that knife for a long time, until he was much
older. It had been because of a disagreement between some boys in the area, he
didn’t remember the details anymore, although they’d seemed so important at the
time. What he did remember was that a bigger, older boy had lunged at him and
knocked the knife out of his hand and it had been Kinzo who had stepped in at
the last minute and knocked him away.
“You okay, Gen-chan?” he asked, leaning in close so no one would hear the old,
childish nickname.
“Y-yeah,” said Genji, feeling a little shaky as he looked at Kinzo, knowing
then that he loved him. “I’m fine. Kin-chan.”
Chapter End Notes
     What the heck am I reading? you may be asking yourself right now. So,
     let me explain.
     The Revelation of RonoBato
     Ronove has a crush on Battler.
     Ronove is the fantasy equivalent of Ronoue Genji.
     Battler, according to Genji himself, looks a lot like Kinzo did when
     he was younger.
     Genji has stayed with Kinzo and remained extremely faithful to him
     for years, despite everything Kinzo has done.
     Conclusion: Genji is in love with Kinzo.
     When I realized this, me and a friend started talking about Genji's
     life, really quickly realizing that it's honestly super sad. I
     couldn't stop thinking about it. I ended up having to write some
     things down. Those things turned into more things, and suddenly they
     started to form a story.
     Then my friend said, "I bet Genji and Kinzo have had sex at some
     point."
     I had to write this. I was possessed by the demon Ronove, patron of
     sad gay fanfictions. This is my curse, and I pass it on to you.
***** Friends *****
Chapter Summary
     Genji and Kinzo as teenagers in Taiwan
Chapter Notes
     The Mountain Goats song for the chapter is Alpha_Rats_Nest
Adolescence rolled into their lives, leaving a mess in its wake.
“What about that one, Genji? Hot, right?”
Genji glanced at the woman Kinzo was pointing at. “Hm? Yeah, I guess.”
“Your standards are too high, Genji. You’re never gonna get laid that way.”
“You don’t have any standards, and I don’t see you getting laid either,” Genji
said, leaning back against the steps they were sitting on.
Kinzo shoved him playfully. “At least I like girls.”
Genji shoved back but didn’t answer, hoping Kinzo was too caught up in himself
right now to notice how much that crack had shaken him.
Genji had known for a long time that he liked Kinzo, but he had thought, when
he was younger, that it was only because they were such good friends. But as he
grew older, he had begun having…thoughts. Not just about Kinzo, but about his
other friends, the dockworkers working shirtless down by the harbor, the well-
dressed, successful young businessmen his father worked with.
His friends, one by one, all began chasing after women, and Genji was left
behind. It was like he had never grown up, like he was still stuck as a little
kid who only wanted to play with the other boys. What was wrong with him? He
had tried, over and over again, to look at the women his friends saw with the
same eye they did, to correct whatever perversity was stunting him, but he
couldn’t force himself to see what they saw.
He had even tried taking a trip to a whorehouse with some friends once, but
he’d gotten uncomfortable and ended up leaving almost as quickly as he’d come.
When Kinzo had asked why, he’d made up some excuse about the women there not
being his type. Well, it wasn’t exactly a lie.
In the end he had been forced to give up. He was resigned to being alone. It
couldn’t be all bad, right? After all, there were supposedly monks who went
their entire lives without ever having sex. If they could do it so could Genji,
right?
None of this conflict showed outwardly, of course. To his friends he was still
the same calm, collected, fun-loving Genji. Although he did sometimes think
that Kinzo, his oldest friend, might suspect something. At one point he had
wondered if Kinzo somehow felt the same way, that they might confess to each
other and Genji would finally be able to share these feelings…
But these thoughts were just delusions. Daydreams. There was absolutely no way
that Kinzo had the same…perversion Genji did, and even if he did, Genji could
never risk telling him, so he would never know. He had to just put all these
thoughts away, lock them up in some dark corner of his mind where they couldn’t
get out and torment him anymore.
This was easier said than done, though. Reminders were everywhere, in his
friends’ playful banter, in his parents’ discussions about his prospects for
marriage (something that Genji was doing his best to dissuade them from
thinking about), in the hot, shameful recesses of his dreams. Kinzo often
featured prominently; whenever that happened Genji would have a hard time
facing him the next day.
One rainy day, when Genji was roaming idly around his house, he found a book on
samurai and began to flip through it. To his surprise, though, he stumbled
across a page that made him blush bright red, and carried it away to read in
privacy.
Nanshoku. Written with the characters for ‘male’ and ‘color’. Love between two
men. There were accounts of it going back centuries. They existed. The thought
lit a fire under him.
Genji became a collector of books on the subject, sneaking off on his own to
hunt for them and hiding them where he was sure his friends and family wouldn’t
find them. He had found others like him. He wasn’t as alone as he’d thought he
was.
The more he read, though, the more troubled he became. Most of the accounts
were between a superior and an inferior, often an older man and a young one.
The boys here were only the penetrated, never the penetrator, and were often
interchangeable with women. That was all they were, substitutes for women,
means to an end for their superiors. That was all.
Genji abandoned this line of study not long after.
He needed a release, and started hanging around at any places where people
congregated to drink. In some of the seedier ones, though, he found something
he had a natural talent for.
After watching for a while, and losing more money than he was proud of, he
thought he’d gotten the hang of it. Then he eagerly went to show his friends
what he’d learned.
It took a little practice to get it right, but when they’d perfected it he was
ready to test it out.
“Find the card.” He offered it to strangers on the street, a little wager, a
game of chance. The sleight of hand tricks were the main thing, but what really
made Genji good, in his opinion, was his ability to lie with a straight face.
With more experience came other valuable skills. Showmanship, for example, or
the ability to tell when his mark had figured out the con and it was time to
cut and run.
Kinzo thought it was hilarious, and whenever there was nothing else to do he
encouraged Genji to pull out his cards and see who he could get. He was helpful
backup, too, in the case of those marks who got a little too aggressive when
they realized that they’d lost. Normally all Genji needed to do was brandish a
knife as deterrent, but sometimes having Kinzo’s looming physique and manic
grin at his elbow didn’t hurt.
The extra money was split by everyone, making Genji very popular in the circle.
His escapades meant more booze, food and women for everyone. Of course, he kept
the bulk of the winnings for himself, but he did start teaching a few of his
tricks to others too, and soon the group was both well-funded and infamous.
He offered to teach Kinzo a few times, but Kinzo was mostly content to watch
Genji work. Genji wasn’t complaining about that. Any excuse to spend time with
Kinzo. Maybe he couldn’t have exactly what he wanted, but at least he’d always
have his best friend at his side.
When Kinzo came to his door looking worried, Genji immediately invited him
inside. “What is it?” he asked, going to fetch some glasses and the strongest
drink he could find.
“I’m going to Japan,” he said. He said it strangely, as if he didn’t quite
believe it, and he looked so lost that Genji wondered for half a second if he
weren’t on something stronger than alcohol.
“What?”
“I’m going. My family… We can't afford our house anymore. We have to go to
Japan to live with our extended family. I’m leaving next week.”
Genji stopped where he was, the drinks he was about to get leaving his mind
entirely as he walked back toward Kinzo. “Really? You mean- I- for how long?”
“Permanently, Genji. We're selling the house. They're even talking about
arranging a marriage for me there.” His voice sounded off, hollow.
Genji didn’t know what to say. “Do you want to go?” he asked.
“It doesn’t matter, Genji. There's nowhere else to go. I don’t have a choice.”
“Don’t go.” Genji blurted it out suddenly. Kinzo couldn’t go. He couldn’t.
“I…Genji, come on, don't be-“
“Stay here. With me. It'll be fine, I-”
“Genji, you know I can't do that.“
Genji felt his chest constrict. He clenched his fists. “I know that you don’t
want to do this, but you’re too much of a coward to say no.” He knew he was
being ridiculous, but he couldn't stop himself.
Kinzo was getting angry now, and Genji knew that he had gone too far. But he
didn’t care. He was angry too.
“I came here to say goodbye, not to get talked out of it. And not to be called
a coward by the likes of you.” He turned and stormed out again, leaving Genji
clenching his fists, his eyes feeling heavy and watery. He stood there for a
while, regretful and angry, and most of all, afraid.
“Kinzo!” he called, chasing his friend down. It was a couple days later, and
Kinzo was deep into his preparations for leaving.
“If you’re here to tell me-“
“I’m sorry.”
Kinzo fell silent, waiting.
“I’m sorry. I was just pissed off. I don’t want you to go, sure. We’re best
friends, right? But I know you can’t help it. Sorry.”
As Genji talked Kinzo’s frown was slowly replaced by a grin. “Glad you’re done
being an asshole,” he said, swatting playfully at Genji’s arm. “I didn’t want
to leave mad at you, Gen-chan.”
Genji laughed, relieved to hear his old nickname. “Me neither. Kin-chan.”
“I really wish I didn’t have to leave,” Kinzo said. “But I do have to, you
know?”
“I know.”
“We can still write to each other, right?”
“Definitely,” Genji said. “I’ll keep you up to date on this shithole town and
you can tell me all about Japan and your weird relatives and this so-called
marriage they're talking about.” He tried to slip that last bit in casually,
but it was a little more forced than he wanted.
“Good,” said Kinzo, and Genji really felt like he meant it. “I’ll miss you,
Genji.”
“You too.”
Three days later, when Kinzo boarded the ship to Japan, Genji was there to see
him off.
***** Letters *****
Chapter Summary
     Kinzo and Genji keep correspondence while Kinzo is in Japan.
Chapter Notes
     Mountain Goats song: Source_Decay
The letters came often at first. Kinzo wrote with his usual with his usual
humor and flair about his new house, the strange ways of his extended family,
his new fiancee, who he didn’t really get along with well, although, he said
suggestively, she was pretty attractive.
Genji wrote back just as often, giving him news about old friends, changes to
the town, openings and closings, of local businesses, even just little details
about his day. Anything to keep talking, to feel like Kinzo was still here.
But gradually, although the content of Genji’s letters didn’t change much, he
started to notice Kinzo’s getting shorter, less personal. They didn’t come as
often anymore either. Genji would go for months at a time without hearing from
him. He tried to write back even more, to keep Kinzo engaged, but when he got
nothing in return, he, frustrated, heartbroken, started writing less and less
as well. What had been a continuation of their friendship became an occasional
chore, an exercise in formal writing, nothing more.
Genji couldn’t even be surprised, or even disappointed really, when after a
while of this, Kinzo simply stopped writing back.
It was too bad that Kinzo wasn’t here, because Genji could really use a friend
right then.
His card scams had garnered him a reputation around town, which made it a
little less fun and a lot more dangerous to be out and about. He’d started to
become a little reclusive, which strained his relationship with his and Kinzo’s
old gang. He took to hanging around his family’s house, reading and drinking
alone, to his parents’ endless irritation.
“No respectable girl will ever want to marry a drunken slob,” his mother said
on more than one occasion, making Genji want to laugh in her face.
Unfortunately, his longtime effort to convince his parents that he was unsuited
to marriage had ultimately failed, and his mother was always trying to arrange
meetings with suitable girls. Genji avoided these when he could, and when he
couldn’t he did his best to make things as uncomfortable as possible. Sometimes
he had to resort to a touch of cruelty to end the meeting; he didn’t relish it,
but it was kinder, he thought, to turn them away harshly then to have them grow
attached. No woman deserved to be married to a broken wreck like him.
He felt bad for his parents. They hadn’t asked to have him for a son. If only
they’d had more children, his failure wouldn’t be as hard on them, but the
circumstances of his birth had rendered his mother unable to bear more
children, so completely had he sabotaged their chances of happiness and
normality.
He wished he had anyone to talk to about any of this, but there was no one he
could risk telling. Who would he even trust enough to tell?
One day, head spinning with anger, he grabbed a piece of paper and began to pen
a letter to the only person he ever remembered feeling close enough to bear his
soul to.
The letter to Kinzo was never sent. In the end, Genji burned it, like a prayer,
half-hoping that some merciful god would wander across the smoke and decide to
end Genji’s misery.
That didn’t happen, but somehow, after writing things out, Genji did find that
he felt a little better.
He began to write these letters more often, the Kinzo who was the addressee
slowly growing to resemble less and less the Kinzo that Genji had known, and
began to shape himself into an ideal, the Kinzo that Genji had always wished,
secretly, that Kinzo could be. A confidant. A source of support.
But never a lover. Even at the height of his wishful fantasy he could never
delude himself that much.
Years passed. Genji continued refusing to consider marriage, but he allowed his
father to find some work for him here and there. He spent most of his free time
drinking and gambling, getting into trouble and coming home late, sometimes
with a police escort, to lectures from his father. He was a disappointment, he
knew, but he would've been one anyway, so why bother pretending? He might not
be completely happy, but he was, more or less, functioning. He didn't know how
long he could go on like this, but as time went by, it seemed less and less
likely that anything would stop him.
Then, one day, Kinzo, the real Kinzo, came to call.
***** Secrets *****
Chapter Summary
     Kinzo's visit. Heads up, this chapter has sexual content in it. The
     first of many.
Chapter Notes
     Mountain Goats song: Have_to_Explode
Genji could scarcely believe it as he stared at the man standing on the other
side of the doorway. This man was older than the Kinzo he remembered, his face
lined, his hair clipped shorter, traces of stubble on his neck and chin where
he had forgotten to shave that day. He looked deflated, somehow. The Kinzo of
Genji’s memories had had enough presence to fill any room. His personality was
a force of nature.
This Kinzo, though, stood slumped, sullen. His eyes were blank, like they had
lost whatever it inner fire it was that had once lit them.
But it was Kinzo. Standing on his front step. Evaluating him.
Kinzo spoke first. “Hello, old friend.”
“Kinzo!” Genji managed. He scrambled for an appropriate reaction, but came up
empty. “What are you- What brings you here?”
“Business,” Kinzo said with a shrug. “I thought that as long as I was here I
might drop in.”
Business. How long had it been now? Years. Years since their last letters.
Years since Genji had all but resigned himself to never seeing Kinzo again.
“Come in,” Genji said, belatedly remembering his manners. “Let me get you a
drink.”
“Thank you.”
Genji showed Kinzo to his own rooms so they could have some privacy, wishing
that he had done anything to neaten the place up. He had always been so
organized, but lately cleaning had been too much effort. Books and papers were
piled up haphazardly in every corner, and there were more than a few empty
bottles as well.
“I’m sorry about the mess,” Genji muttered, embarrassed. “I don’t entertain
much lately.”
Kinzo looked at him, worry showing briefly in his eyes. Genji chafed at that.
How could this strange, sad, solemn Kinzo be worried about him? Genji was the
one who should be worried.
Genji poured them some drinks.
“How have you been?” Kinzo asked, looking strangely at Genji again. “It’s been
too long.”
What could Genji say? This Kinzo was a stranger, so different from the youth of
Genji’s memory and the confidant of his imagination that he might as well be an
entirely different person. “I’ve been well,” Genji said finally. “And you?”
Kinzo looked disappointed, and Genji felt that he’d made a misstep.
“Well enough,” he said. He downed the rest of his glass, pouring himself more.
“How is your family?”
This seemed to be the wrong thing to say, although Kinzo could just be wincing
from the generous sip of sake he had just taken. He swallowed before saying, “I
suppose they’re doing alright.”
There seemed to be more to that statement, and Genji waited to see if it would
come.
“I have children now,” said Kinzo matter-of-factly.
Genji tried to suppress his surprised reaction. Kinzo had been married for a
long time now, after all. It would be strange if he and his wife didn’t have
any children. “Congratulations,” he said.
Kinzo didn’t say anything, just looked down and took another sip of his drink.
Eventually, the conversation turned to reminiscing, and this was a much happier
topic for both of them. They told each other stories of youth, laughing, trying
to one up the other, testing each other’s memories to see, did you remember
this, did you recall that? For a while the strange, quiet Kinzo was his old
self again, and before they knew it hours had passed.
As the shadows began to lengthen, the conversation began to wind down, and
although the awkwardness had dissipated Genji felt that it could come back at
any moment.
He looked at Kinzo thoughtfully.
In the dim light, Genji could clearly see the lines etched into Kinzo’s face.
Their years apart had not been kind to his friend.
There was a long silence, and Kinzo looked away and heaved a sigh. Then he
spoke.
“I’m enlisting,” he said.
“What?”
“Tomorrow. I came here to get some things in order first. I thought you should
know.”
Genji didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.
Kinzo swirled his drink, then suddenly threw back his head and downed it in one
sip. He winced and set down the glass with a thud.
This new intensity was a little startling, and although Genji was outwardly
calm he had to admit he was thrown.
“Genji,” Kinzo said slowly. “My old friend.” Apparently he hadn’t entirely lost
his flair for drama. But…was he moving a little closer now?
“…Kinzo?” He was definitely moving closer, his hand sliding up to Genji’s
thigh.
“Don’t think I didn’t know,” Kinzo said, looking at Genji without making eye
contact. “I thought about it myself, on occasion.”
What was this sudden shift? Genji felt the blood suddenly drain from his face.
“I…I don’t know what you’re-“
Kinzo just kept on, slowly insinuating himself into Genji’s space, his hand
continuing its slow ascent. Genji fought to keep himself under control, but it
was a losing battle.
Voice low and husky, Kinzo whispered, “Say the word and I’ll stop.”
Genji fell silent, breathless. This wasn’t real. He’d gotten so drunk he was
hallucinating. He was probably passed out in a gutter somewhere, choking on his
own vomit. It was the only explanation. He didn’t want to wake himself up now,
though. If this was a dream, well… He wanted to see where it was going.
Kinzo leaned in, breath hot and smelling of stale sake. His lips met Genji’s
with a light bump. He wrapped an arm around Genji, fingers running through
Genji’s long hair, and leaned into the kiss. Kinzo’s skin was warm, and his
lips and tongue were soft, their steady motion sending swirls of steam through
Genji’s body. He closed his eyes, letting himself be drawn in by the sensation.
Kinzo’s right hand began working its way further into Genji’s hair, giving the
occasional gentle tugs which sent shocks down Genji’s spine. Genji could feel
his dick starting to get hard, and almost pulled away, in shame, but Kinzo just
kept a steady grip on Genji, and Genji, stomach churning, stayed where he was.
Kinzo’s left hand began to tug at Genji’s waistband, dragging the fabric across
his cock as it slid down. Genji shifted slightly to help him, putting an arm
around Kinzo’s waist to steady himself.
There was a moment of fumbling as Kinzo switched the positions of his hands,
his left one holding on to Genji’s hair as the right moved downward. Genji
moaned into Kinzo’s mouth as he felt the hand wrap around his cock.
Kinzo began to stroke, slowly, firmly, making Genji moan even harder. As he
worked the penis he also resumed his hair-pulling, a little harder this time,
the slight pain only making Genji more aroused.
Genji could have gone on like this forever, but Kinzo had other ideas. He began
to speed up his strokes, pulling his mouth away from Genji’s to kiss-bite down
his neck, stopping to suck a small circle on his collarbone. Genji bit his lip
to prevent himself from openly crying out as the pressure building up in the
pit of his stomach began to become too intense.
More suddenly than Genji expected, he came, semen making a mess of things. He
started to utter an apology but Kinzo shut him up with a kiss. Then he grabbed
a towel, dabbing at his clothes with it.
Genji was confused, and he must have looked it, too. But Kinzo offered no
explanation.
“I have to go,” he said. “Thank you for the drinks. It was nice catching up
with you.”
And before Genji could say anything to stop him, Kinzo left.
By the time Genji had gotten his clothes in order and run out after him, Kinzo
was nowhere to be found. Genji spent most of the evening wandering around,
asking everyone he came across if they had seen him, but nobody knew anything.
Finally, red-faced, red-eyed, collarbone still tingling where Kinzo had marked
it, Genji returned home to finish off what was left of their bottle.
Two days later, a boy came to the house with a message, scribbled on a little
scrap of paper.
Genji, it read,
I’ve known how you feel for a very long time now. You tried to hide it, but I
could tell.
I wanted to give you this one thing, before I left. As thanks for our years of
friendship.
I only wish I had more to offer.
Chances are that we won’t meet again. Goodbye, old friend. I hope you find
happiness.
Your old friend, Kin-chan.
Genji’s vision was blurred as he crumbled the note and fed it into the fire.
***** Struggles *****
Chapter Summary
     The war causes all sorts of problems, and Genji isn't dealing with
     things well.
Chapter Notes
     Unfortunately I know very little about Taiwan during World War 2. If
     there are factual inaccuracies, feel free to let me know~!
     MGS- Damn_These_Vampires
Genji had no doubt what Kinzo was intending, and he cursed himself every day
for being unable to prevent it. For a few days he entertained wild fantasies of
running after him somehow, finding him and convincing him not to do this. But
deep down he knew he never would. If Kinzo were so determined to die, what
could Genji do to prevent it? Genji couldn’t even save himself from his
pathetic downward spiral.
Genji just wished that he could stop thinking about the way that Kinzo’s lips
and hands had felt caressing him, the way they had made him feel breathless and
hopeful and for just a little bit had made him believe that things could be
different for him…
After a while, though, Genji knew he had to accept it. Kinzo was probably dead.
And if he wasn’t already, he would be soon. Genji had already given him up for
lost once, it shouldn’t be so hard to do it a second time.
And if it took a little extra drink here and there to get through the day, so
be it. He was in mourning for his dear best friend, wasn’t he?
He continued living his bare minimum of an existence, doing increasingly shoddy
work for his father, then going out and spending all his money drinking and
gambling. Occasionally he worked up the nerve to find whorehouses where men
offered their services; he would go, finding a different young man each time,
take his pleasure, tip well and leave feeling disgusting and disgusted with
himself.
He knew his parents were angry that he came home almost at dawn most days,
hungover, rumpled, sometimes sporting injuries from arguments that had gone a
little too far. He knew they were nearing the end of their patience with their
pathetic, worthless only son. He just couldn’t bring himself to care enough to
change things.
Lost, sad and angry as he was, it was impossible to miss the things that were
happening in the world around him. When the war came to Taiwan, it brought
every kind of trouble with it. Violence, food shortages, rioting, bombings.
Genji, assisting with his father’s work, found himself hearing all about the
atrocities happening around him. There was an atmosphere of fear that pervaded
every minute of the day. Everyone felt it, and Genji was no exception.
It didn’t exactly give him motivation not to drink.
Eventually he just stopped working.
He had always wondered how far he could push his parents before something
really, truly snapped between them. Now he had his answer.
His father confronted him, and what started as an ordinary scolding quickly
turned ugly. Genji had never seen his even-tempered father so furious, never
even known it was possible
“What did I do to deserve such a useless son? Where did I go wrong? Get up! Can
you hear me? Listen when your father speaks to you! If you want to be so
worthless, you can leave this house! Pathetic, stupid-“
Genji, who had been sitting on his bed quietly tensed with anger, stood
suddenly, shoving his father out of his way. “Fine,” he said hoarsely, grabbing
his money purse and his knife and striding out the door before his father had
recovered from his shock enough to start yelling again.
He heard his mother crying on his way out the door. He didn’t stop to look for
her.
The streets were a dangerous place for a lone man, now more than ever, and
Genji’s reserves of money were limited. Not to mention, he had amassed quite a
few enemies in his years gambling. He did his best to keep a low profile,
spending his quickly dwindling reserves of money on food and a place to sleep.
It ran out quickly, though, especially with the price of food these days, and
he had to fight off more than a few people looking to take even the little he
had left. He needed more money, and fast.
He got odd jobs where he could. There were few people who could pay for work,
but he was fine with working for food and a dry place to sleep. There was a
baker who sometimes let him help out in exchange for the burnt extras. Genji
had never tried cooking or baking before, but he found it relaxing. On other
days, he would help move crates at the docks, or run errands and messages for
anyone who would take his help.
Occasionally, when he did make a little money, he would spend it on the
strongest, cheapest bottle of alcohol he could get his hands on, and drink as
much of it as he could before passing out.
Years passed like this, some more stable than others. For a while the baker let
him stay on in his shop as a permanent helper, and Genji did his best to make
himself useful. He learned how to bake all kinds of things, and the baker and
his wife were kind to him, letting him sleep in their shop and eat his meals
with their family. But the shop was struggling in the wartime economy, and
eventually they had to close and move out of the city, leaving Genji back on
the streets.
Genji realized, to his surprise, that those years working in the shop had been
the happiest of his adult life. He had felt useful there, wanted, even, doing
something that was simple, yes, but productive. He had been making something,
something that people needed. He had never felt like that in all his years
living with his parents. He wondered, sleeping in alleyways and abandoned
buildings crowded with war refugees, if he would ever feel that way again.
There were attacks on the city, and he came dangerously close to being caught
in them.
The war came to an end. Japan and its allies had lost. Some confidently
predicted that this would be the end of the trouble. Genji knew they were only
fooling themselves.
All he could really hope, for now, was to stay alive, and hope something good
would eventually come his way in spite of everything.
And one day, in spite of everything, something did.
He was walking down the street, and at first kept going, sure he was imagining
it. But then he heard it again, and then he saw that impossibly familiar figure
running up the street after him, heard that impossibly familiar voice calling
his name.
“Genji!” said Kinzo. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
***** Favors *****
Chapter Summary
     Kinzo has come back to Taiwan to get Genji, and makes him an offer.
Chapter Notes
     Mountain Goats Song: Hebrews_11:40
“You look…good,” Genji said, still staring disbelievingly at Kinzo, sitting
hunched over in the ship’s cabin. The cabin of the ship Kinzo had personally
arranged to come and take the Ronoue family back to Japan.
“I wish I could say the same to you, old friend,” he said with a little laugh.
“You look like you’ve just been dragged out of the gutter.”
Genji didn’t bother to respond with the obvious, that he more or less had been.
He took a small sip of the drink in front of him, although what he really
wanted to do was pound the whole thing back right away.
“The war has been hard on everyone,” Kinzo said, not without sympathy.
“Except you,” Genji remarked dryly. Kinzo was looking radiant, wearing newly
tailored clothes, eyes shining and alert, a perfect picture of good health.
Looking, Genji knew, because Kinzo had told him already about his incredible
Italian mistress who had brought him such incredible good fortune, perfectly in
love.
They had not talked about the last time they had seen each other. Genji wasn’t
sure he wanted to hear what Kinzo had to say about it.
“Except me,” Kinzo said with a careless shrug. “What can I say? I’ve been
blessed with good luck.”
“I’m happy for you,” Genji said, trying and probably failing at making it sound
less forced.
Kinzo reached over and clapped Genji on the shoulder. The sudden touch started
to bring up unbidden memories. Genji quickly pushed them away.
“Of course, there’s no point in having this much wealth if I don’t use it to
help my friends,” Kinzo said. “That’s why I’m here.”
“Yes,” Genji said, looking away awkwardly. “I…suppose I should thank you for
that.”
“I wish I could have convinced your parents to come too,” Kinzo said, drawing
away his hand and sitting back again. “They’re very stubborn people.”
“Yes,” Genji said, looking down at the rippling liquid in his glass. His hand
was shaking a little. “It’s fine. I haven’t even seen them in years. They
probably think I’m dead by now.”
Kinzo didn’t say anything, and Genji wasn’t surprised. If he were his parents
he wouldn’t want to see him either, he was sure.
“I was surprised to find that you’d left home,” Kinzo went on. “You wouldn’t
believe how much trouble it was to find you.”
“I would believe it,” Genji said. People went missing all the time lately. It
wouldn’t have been surprising if he’d become one of them.
Kinzo took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. Finally, he said, “When we get back
to Japan. Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you. I have a lot of money, I can
give you as much as you need-“
“I wouldn’t know what to do with it if I had it,” Genji interrupted honestly.
“I used to leave all of that to my father. These past years I’ve been making
all my money doing labor. That’s all I know how to do, really.”
Kinzo considered this for a bit. Then, hesitantly, he spoke. “There is
something else you could do… I didn’t want to suggest it, but… You know I’m
building myself a new house. I’ll be hiring servants, and I’ll need someone to
manage them. Someone I can trust. I can pay well, of course. And you’ll be
working directly for me, no one else. I don’t-“
“I’ll do it.”
Genji was surprised at his immediate answer, but really, even now, stopping to
think about it, it was an obvious decision. Now that he was getting over the
shock of discovering that Kinzo was alive, he found that he was really very
glad to see him again. He didn’t want to lose him again, not yet. Besides,
Kinzo was here selflessly offering to help him, because even after all this
time, all this distance and strangeness, Kinzo still considered them friends.
Was there anyone else in the world who would do something like this for him?
In the back of his mind, too, he was remembering his days in the bakery, how
good it felt to have a place in a household, to be useful and wanted, to go to
bed every night tired from having done a full day’s work.
“Really?” Kinzo’s face lit up (although, said something in the back of Genji’s
mind, not quite as much as it did when he talked about her…) and Genji, in
spite of himself, found the smile infectious. “Good. Great!” He clapped his
hands together. “This calls for a celebration. And you look like you haven’t
eaten in a week. I’ll call for some food.”
Genji ate like a starving man, which, he reflected, he technically was, and,
overfull, retired to the cabin set aside for him, trying not to become sick as
he adjusted to the rocking of the boat. He slept like the dead, and in the
morning, he woke up feeling amazingly refreshed.
In the mirror, he looked a mess, unshaven and dirty, the hair that had once
been his pride hanging lank and greasy around his face. When had his face ever
been so thin, he wondered? He had always been thin, but he had never before
seen what he looked like emaciated. No wonder he had been so hungry.
That day he had a bath, his first in a very long time, and shaved the scraggly
growth on his face. The sailors on the ship suspected him of having lice, and
he complied, after a moment’s thought, with their request that he shave off his
hair too. It was fitting, really. New hair for his new start on life.
When he looked in the mirror again afterwards, he was nearly unrecognizable.
But, he thought, running a hand over his newly shaven head and marveling at the
strange feeling of his hand on his bare scalp, maybe that wasn’t such a bad
thing.
During his days on the ship he ate until his hollow cheeks began to fill out
again, he grew accustomed to the constant rocking of the boat, and he spent
quite a lot of time in the company of Kinzo.
The strangeness faded with time and exposure. Genji had never really hoped that
Kinzo felt the way that Genji did, but he still felt a lingering tension around
him. It was hard to reconcile the happiness he saw on Kinzo’s face with the
knowledge that he himself could never make Kinzo feel that way.
But he quickly found himself remembering why he and Kinzo had been such good
friends in the first place. Their old friendship was rekindled within days, and
they talked for hours, catching up, exchanging war stories. There were certain
topics they both shied away from, though. Their families. Their last meeting.
It was a little strange, and a little awkward. But more than that, Genji
gradually began to feel excitement, and gratitude. Kinzo was here. He was
alive. He had come back for Genji, and he had taken him from the path he’d been
on, the one that surely led to a short, sad life and an anonymous early grave.
He had given him a new life. A new purpose. There were some debts that could
never be fully repaid, and he knew now, looking out at the long blue-green
expanse of the sea, that he would be spending the rest of his life repaying
this one.
***** Beginnings *****
Chapter Summary
     Genji comes to Rokkenjima and meets Beatrice and the Ushiromiya
     family.
Chapter Notes
     Mountain Goats Song: How_to_Embrace_a_Swamp_Creature
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Rokkenjima was bigger than Genji had expected, not that he had had much idea of
what a private island mansion was supposed to look like. He still couldn’t
quite believe that Kinzo had this kind of money now. He wondered if he would
ever get used to it.
Construction was still going on all over the island, and Kinzo wouldn’t be
bringing his wife and children to live there until it was finished. When Genji
saw some of the things that they were working on, he could see why.
There was at least one person living there already, though.
“Kinzo!” said a tall, blonde woman with a heavy accent, running up to the
approaching ship in excitement. She called something in a language it took
Genji a moment to identify as English. Kinzo answered back in the same, hopping
impatiently out of the boat as soon as it reached the shore. “Come on!” he
called to Genji. “Come meet my Golden Witch!”
Genji gave up on keeping up with Kinzo, allowing him to run ahead, grabbing the
woman, Beatrice, and twirling her in the air before setting her down, both of
them laughing loudly.
Genji very carefully kept his face politely blank.
Kinzo said some things in English, gesturing at Genji. Genji, who had learned
some very basic English once and retained none of it, stood by hoping he looked
professional.
The woman laughed, a loud, full laugh, and said something back. Then she turned
her eyes to Genji, and he suddenly felt uncomfortably exposed. Her gaze was
very intense.
“Hello,” she said haltingly, her accent thick, stressing the word oddly.
“Hello, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said back, bowing.
She smiled, and then turned and spoke again with Kinzo. Genji wondered if
‘hello’ was the only Japanese word she knew. How was he going to communicate
with her, he wondered? Well, maybe it would be for the best if he didn’t have
to.
“Bice is still learning Japanese,” Kinzo said to Genji, sounding proud. “You
should talk to her sometime to help her practice.”
Damn.
Kinzo showed Genji around the island, first to the main house, then to
Beatrice’s hidden mansion. A second, hidden mansion, on a private island.
If Kinzo hadn’t prepared Genji ahead of time, he would have gone into shock. He
still had a difficult time believing what he was seeing. Genji had spent the
last several years of his life sleeping in gutters while Kinzo had been
amassing enough of a fortune to plan and execute this. Genji had always known
that Kinzo had potential, but this was beyond anything he would have imagined.
He had so much, and yet he had still taken the time and money to come back for
Genji.
Genji reflected on this, as they wandered the island, watching the construction
workers. Maybe it was true that Kinzo would never care for him the way that he
cared for Beatrice, doting on her, hanging onto her every word. But he still
must care about him a great deal. Genji found himself overwhelmed for a moment.
How could he ever hope to repay Kinzo for this?
Well, that was obvious. Kinzo had hired him as a butler. If that was what Kinzo
needed, then it was up to him to become the best butler that anyone had ever
seen.
And if that meant making peace with Kinzo’s mistress, then so be it.
The sun was dipping low when they headed back to the boats that would take them
to the nearest island, where Kinzo was renting out temporary living space. As
they walked, Genji noticed the other building, the one that Kinzo hadn’t shown
him.
He didn’t ask, but Kinzo must have noticed him staring. “Ah, that’s the
chapel,” he said, sharing a conspiratorial look with Beatrice. “I’m sure I’ll
show you around it one day soon.”
That was an undeniably strange thing to say, but Genji decided it was probably
best not to question it.
Over the weeks in which the construction on Rokkenjima was being completed,
Genji did everything he could to prepare himself for his new job as Kinzo’s
butler. He dug up a couple books, one on the role of a servant and one on
household management, and poured through them trying to take in everything he
could. His new role included hiring servants for the mansion, which Kinzo gave
him a budget for. He also took trips to the island with Kinzo occasionally, to
learn the layout of the mansions.
He’d worried, at first, about working with Kinzo, whether it would be
distracting or…well, whether it would be painful to him. But his fears were
soon assuaged. He and Kinzo, most of the time, were far too busy for him to
dwell most of the time, and even when they did see each other, it was usually
when Beatrice was around as well. When they were together, Kinzo was so wrapped
up in her that he hardly even seemed to notice that Genji was in the room with
him. Honestly, at those times, Genji felt about as noticed as the coffee table
or the armchair in the corner.
Which, Genji decided, was probably for the best. After all, all his reading
suggested that it was good to maintain a professional distance from one’s
employer at all times. (Kinzo protested the first time Genji addressed him with
polite speech, but Genji pointed out how ridiculous it would be for a butler to
speak to his employer casually and Kinzo had to admit that he was right.)
The first time Kinzo had him act as a butler in the way that Genji
traditionally thought of as butlering, it was when he invited a new friend of
his, Dr. Nanjo, over for drinks. Genji did his best to keep his professional
demeanor, but Kinzo had introduced him as a friend and insisted that Genji join
them for a drink until Genji felt like it would be outright rude to refuse. He
at least made a point of stopping after one drink, though.
Genji was incredibly busy as construction drew to a finish. He had to train the
new staff, which included the tricky task of swearing them all to secrecy about
the second mansion and, for some reason that Kinzo still wouldn’t tell him,
swearing them away from the mansion, and, of course, getting all the rooms
furnished and cleaned and ready for their new occupants.
Kinzo and Beatrice settled in first, Kinzo taking up the main mansion’s
spacious master suite while Beatrice spread herself out across the entirety of
the second mansion.
Then Kinzo’s wife and children moved in.
Genji had known, academically, that Kinzo was married and had three children.
He even knew their names, and had overseen the preparation of their rooms. But
it was one thing to know that they existed in theory and another thing entirely
to see them stepping off the boat and onto the shore of Rokkenjima.
All of the children looked a little like Kinzo, and a little like the their
mother. The one who resembled Kinzo most strongly was the youngest, Rudolph,
who had a wiry frame and cocky grin that put Genji immediately in mind of his
and Kinzo’s childhood. He had to admit, though, that the girl, Eva, much as she
looked like her mother, also seemed to have inherited no shortage of Kinzo’s
fiery intensity. The oldest boy, Krauss, most resembled his mother. He was a
bit of a loudmouth, who seemed to like pushing around his younger siblings.
The mistress, for her part, was quiet. She was polite, but withdrawn. Genji
wondered if she knew about Beatrice, or at least suspected something. She
greeted him politely but coldly. Maybe she knew already that he was a creature
of her husband’s, and not a potential ally. He was sorry about that, but there
was nothing he could do for her but return her greeting deferentially and bow
in the formal way he was slowly getting used to. She retreated as soon as he’d
shown her to her rooms.
The children were a handful. The first thing to do, of course, was to make sure
they’d never accidentally stumble upon Beatrice’s mansion. Kinzo fed them some
ridiculous story about wolves wandering the forest, and Genji spread it around
to the other servants that this lie was to be encouraged. Luckily they were
young enough to believe it.
The next thing, Genji learned quickly, was to keep them away from Kinzo. He
didn’t like them much, to put it bluntly. Genji thought he probably resented
them, them and his wife. A last manipulation from the elders of his family that
he was stuck with forever. He would sometimes show up out of nowhere to shower
them with either affection or advice or, much more often, harsh scolding and
criticism, but for the most part he liked them well out of his sight as much as
possible.
The mistress, meanwhile, stayed away from Kinzo on her own. She seemed to
realize the way he felt about her, and Genji gathered that the feeling,
whatever it may have been when they first met, was now mutual. She mostly
stayed in her own private areas of the house, sometimes interacting with the
children but often just keeping to herself. Genji worried about her, but she
didn’t trust him to reach out to her, even if he knew how to, and he wasn’t
sure how Kinzo would take the two of them getting friendly anyway.
The other variable in the Ushiromiya household was Beatrice. Genji didn’t see
her as often, since he didn’t spend too much time in her mansion, but every
time he saw her she was the same. Friendly, playful, teasing. Her Japanese was
always improving. The other servants adored her, but were intimidated by her
too. She was beautiful, foreign, held sway with their frightening master. There
was a certain mystique about her. Genji tried at first to clamp down on some of
the wild rumors going around about her, but they seemed to amuse her and Kinzo
more than anything, and eventually he gave up. Just so long as they didn’t say
anything about her around the children or mistress.
And life on Rokkenjima slowly but surely resolved itself into a pattern.
Chapter End Notes
     How do you write about Kinzo's wife when there's virtually no
     information given about her in canon? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
***** Congratulations *****
Chapter Summary
     Genji and Kinzo share a drink and talk about the past, and the
     present.
Chapter Notes
     TMG song is Autoclave
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Working for Kinzo meant rarely having a moment of free time, and Genji’s days
were always full with managing the servants, working on Kinzo’s personal
projects and keeping everything on Rokkenjima running smoothly. But the best
and worst part of his job was those moments one or two times a week when Kinzo
would retire to the master bedroom and Genji would be summoned to attend to
him. Really, what that meant was that Genji would pour them both drinks and
then the two of them would sit and talk.
Sometimes Kinzo was moody, ranting about some annoyance from work or his
family, and Genji would sit and listen sympathetically. Sometimes he was in an
amazingly good mood, and the conversation would be a triumphant recitation of
his success while Genji listened with interest and gave him quiet
congratulations. And sometimes Kinzo’s mood ran more contemplative, and he
wanted to sit and reminisce. On these occasions Genji participated more in the
conversation, though not by much.
Quiet was becoming a habit of Genji’s. He thought he was starting to figure it
out. Servants were meant to be quiet, unobtrusive, not even there until they
were needed and gone again as soon as their task was done. Used and useful but
unnoticed, almost like a piece of furniture. He was in Kinzo’s life for Kinzo’s
convenience, and he could accept it, because Kinzo was a great man and Genji
owed him a great debt. This was what he had been rescued for. This was his
purpose.
And on this night, as on those other nights, Kinzo needed him to be a friend.
And so it was that Genji uncorked a bottle of wine, a gift from one of Kinzo’s
clients, poured out two glasses, and settled down in an armchair opposite
Kinzo.
“Thank you, my friend,” Kinzo said, picking up his glass and taking an absent
sip. His eyes were distant tonight.
Genji took his own sip - the wine, as it turned out, was not to his taste,
although he thought it seemed like something that Kinzo would probably like -
and waited for Kinzo to speak.
Finally, he did. “Genji…” He paused, seeming unsure how to continue.
Genji considered saying something himself, but thought it better to let Kinzo
finish his thought.
Finally, Kinzo said, slowly, “You never told me much about…the time after I
left Taiwan. The…first time, I mean. Before…well. You know.”
Genji froze. This was the closest Kinzo, or either of them, had ever come to
acknowledging Kinzo’s visit to Genji all those years ago.
“There…is not much to tell. I worked for my father for a while. It…I had no
motivation. I was drifting. Confused. I was very young.” Genji shrugged, trying
to downplay his nervousness. Where could Kinzo be going with this? He hoped
that he would drop the subject. There was no reason he could have to bring it
up that could possibly be good.
Unless, whispered a traitorous part of his mind, but Genji quickly stifled that
thought. It would do him no good.
“Those years were hard on me as well,” said Kinzo softly. “I was just as
aimless. I reached my lowest point then. I…” He took a deep breath, and a
fortifying sip of wine. “I think you know that when I enlisted, I intended to
die.”
Genji nodded quietly. He had never doubted that fact.
“But in all that time, when I was being brought to the absolute peak of my
misery… I had always thought that you were doing better than I was. I had… When
I came to say goodbye, I didn’t expect…”
“I…” Genji’s mouth was dry. He didn’t know what this was, why Kinzo was
choosing now to make these dangerous circles around this dark place, this
unspoken place in both their memories. Unless, the insistent, hopeful voice
said, louder this time. No.
“I never expected that we were in the same place, then. I don’t know if knowing
would have made it easier or harder.”
Then you should have written more, Genji thought but didn’t say. You should
have talked to me, told me anything of value. You should have stayed. You
shouldn’t have left me again. You should have…
It was becoming increasingly hard to regain his composure.
Kinzo chuckled softly, and Genji was at a loss.
“I apologize,” said Kinzo. “I’m being so grim. I’ve just been thinking
about…how far I’ve come. How far we’ve both come. Because of her.”
Genji didn’t have to ask who ‘she’ was. Kinzo never shut up about how his
beautiful golden witch had saved them all with her money. It was true, she had
saved Kinzo, and in that way she was responsible for Genji’s salvation as well.
But as much as Genji wanted to share Kinzo’s enthusiasm he couldn’t help but
feel a little resentment, at times, of the singleminded devotion Kinzo showed
her. Still, he nodded, taking a long sip of his drink until he felt lightheaded
and buoyant. Trying his best to emulate Kinzo’s good spirits.
“I have some good news,” Kinzo said, eyes sparkling, and Genji suddenly
realized that he’d been building up to this.
He felt his heart in his throat as he choked out, “Good news?”
“Bice is pregnant,” said Kinzo.
“Oh,” Genji said, struggling to extract the proper congratulatory emotions.
“I…Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” said Kinzo. Fortunately his enthusiasm was great enough that he
failed to notice Genji’s lack of it. “I know the child will be beautiful. Only
something beautiful could be born of me and Bice, don’t you agree?” He laughed,
loud and full, and Genji chuckled weakly in answer.
“Of course.”
“This child will be a perfect proof of our love,” said Kinzo.
“I’m sure it will,” said Genji, taking another long sip of wine. Anything he
was feeling now could wait until he was alone. For now, he was here to
celebrate with Kinzo.
Fortunately, blessedly, the night ended quickly. Kinzo was tired, and now that
he had given his big news he had little reason to stay awake. After he had
retired to bed, Genji went off to his own room, feet dragging as his buzz began
to wear off.
A child. She had given him a child. One thing that Genji could never offer him.
And Genji, fool that he was, allowed his hopes to be raised, carelessly.
Genji entered his room, closed and locked the door behind him. He pulled off
his tie, walking straight for the bathroom.
Kinzo did not want Genji. Kinzo had never wanted Genji, never would want him.
Genji was furniture. Furniture. What had he expected to happen?
He thought of Kinzo, of Kinzo’s laugh, Kinzo’s eyes, Kinzo’s smile, Kinzo’s
hand, touching him, ghosting against his skin as if it had been moments ago,
and not a thousand years ago a thousand miles away in a dark and neglected room
with sake on his lips and so much foolish, misplaced hope in his young heart.
He unbuttoned his pants, pulled free his cock. It was already so, so hard. He
wrapped his had around it, pretending it was Kinzo’s. He began jerking,
roughly, almost painfully, not caring. Kinzo. Kinzo. Kin-
He came with a hard gasp, cum spattering the floor and sink, his pants, his
shoes. Pathetic. He was pathetic. He leaned, heavily, against the sink. He
didn’t have the energy to clean this up.
He did anyway, wiping it all away with a rag, making sure his pants wouldn’t
stain. Then he went to bed. He would have to get up early tomorrow. The house
couldn’t run without him. He would need to call Dr. Nanjo to Beatrice and check
on the baby.
Chapter End Notes
     Sometimes writing this feels like an exercise in seeing how much I
     can make myself hate Kinzo. I feel like some of the future chapters
     are going to involve screaming.
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