Chapter 12: 12. A Woman’s Hidden Places

As soon as Jiro felt the flesh of Kaori’s thigh rub against his groin, something rose up within him like a great wave. His body began to shudder and jerk. A great sneeze exploded out of his lungs, throwing him forward and up, away from Kaori’s leg. He landed on his feet and then fell forward, stumbling face-first into the ocean.

He sneezed and sneezed in little explosions of seawater. By the time it was all finished, he was soaked through, his mouth full of sand, seawater, the filth of the sea.

Kaori was sitting in the sand with her legs crossed, looking at him with an amused expression on her face.

“What … What did you do that for?!”

Kaori stood up and patted the sand off her thighs and butt. “Sometimes it’s better not to think too much about the big questions Jiro. Leave that to the old men. When things get so bad that you can’t hold back the tears, then okay. Run away. But don’t shortchange yourself. Don’t run away before it’s your time.”

Kaori drew open the folds of her yukata, which had fallen loose, and pulled them tight, stuffing the ends into her sash. Jiro wiped the seawater from his eyes and blinked. He wiped his eyes again. Was it just his imagination, or had Kaori not been wearing a bra?

“But don’t overthink things,” Kaori was saying. “Don’t overthink yourself into a trap …” She walked a few steps up the beach and then turned back with her hands clasped behind her hips. She cocked her head and, with a half-smile, said, “If you ask me Jiro, I would say you were enjoying this.”

And then, without looking back again, she began to head up the beach for the rocks, and the bathhouse beyond.

Jiro watched her walk. He kicked away a strand of kelp. He scratched his head. He thought about her breasts. Then, with a sigh, he ran to catch up.

“I am not enjoying this,” he said, coming up along her on the path up to the bathhouse.

“I saw the way you looked at me in the cave. Who knows what kind of lewd, terrible thoughts you were thinking.”

“Sheena stung me!”

“And what about our little chats in the bath?” Kaori gave him a look, a little smile playing on the end of her mouth. “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy those.”

Jiro nearly tripped on a bit of grass.

“I, uh … I, well …”

Would you like to take a bath together, Jiro? You could help … wash the sand off my body. Get in deep. Scrub all the nooks and crannies a woman can’t reach. Would you like that?”

“Wha—”

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“Would you like to lick my toes, Jiro? Hmm?” In the evening dark, Kaori’s pupils glistened in the light of the moon. She had stopped and turned toward him. Slowly, she wet her lips and used a finger to pull a strand of brown hair behind her ear.

“Wh-what are you talking about …?” he spluttered. “Why would I want to … to lick …” He trailed off.

“I heard you talking. In your sleep.”

Jiro swallowed. “It was the poison … I wasn’t in my right mind … Kaori I—”

He stopped. Kaori was bent over on the dirt path, hands clasped to her mouth, shuddering with laughter.

“You … I … I didn’t say that, did I?”

She shook her head, shill silently shaking with laughter. “Oh Jiro, you’re such a funny little kid.”

“Don’t call me that.” Blushing, he hurried up ahead up the path. The sun had sunk below the mountains. From the forest beyond the bathhouse came the sound of owls and other night birds.

After a while, Kaori came up alongside him.“Can I ask you something Jiro?”

“If it’s not a joke.”

“Who’s Misha?”

Jiro stopped.

“What?”

Kaori leaned forward slightly and looked up at Jiro, revealing the smooth, white bend of her neck and collarbone. “You really were talking in your sleep. Not about toes but about … Misha ... Misha, Misha, Misha. That’s how you said it. Over and over, like a chant. For a goddess or something.”

“I …” Jiro trailed off. He squeezed his eyes shut. Suddenly, he wanted to vomit. It really was true. What the others had said. You could never run away from the complications. He had run all the way here … to the other end of the Earth. To Japan. And the complications were right here with him. They had caught up in a matter of days … Like a nest of parasites, he had been carrying his problems inside of him all along.

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