Somersault (43 page)

With an eager movement out of keeping with his age, Kizu flipped himself over on his belly and, as Naomi had done, propped himself up on his chin and shoulders as he added some spit and pulled aside the folds of his buttocks. Ikuo struggled to penetrate, and Kizu felt a sharp pain that nearly made him cry out, but all for naught. Kizu remembered how it felt when, as he stroked the milky, flushed skin of Naomi’s buttocks, he playfully had inserted first one finger and then a second as he roughly spread her sphincter. But he couldn’t tell Ikuo to do the same, and he didn’t have the nerve to do it himself.

Finally, as if the energy level he’d strained to keep up proved too much, Ikuo collapsed. Kizu sat up and noticed tears forming in Ikuo’s large, sunken eyes. Kizu took Ikuo’s still-engorged penis in his mouth to console it for all its struggles, but Ikuo remained passive and couldn’t come.

After Ikuo went home, Kizu thought about the tears in Ikuo’s eyes and how he’d instinctively turned away to try to hide them. What kind of tears were those? As he and Ikuo had talked that day he tried not to worry about the new situation with his cancer. With Patron’s new movement beginning, he’d have to talk with Ikuo about his illness, now that it had taken a sudden turn for the worse, but it didn’t seem fair to bring it up just as he was attempting to get their sexual relationship to enter a new phase.

Kizu wondered whether the sexual behavior of an old man, unconcerned with appearances, might not, in the eyes of someone much younger, go beyond the ugly and comical to arouse feelings of pity and sorrow. But late that night, as he once again climbed into bed and touched a wide, wet spot on the sheets, the thought struck him that he had been so hard on the young man he had made him cry. Shocked, Kizu tried to brush the thought aside.

3

Kizu was the type, once he started something, to persist—his character molded by his experiences in America, where he often felt terribly isolated and found that once he gave up, things got even worse—and he wasn’t about to get discouraged by a couple of failed experiments. A motivating factor behind his persistence, Kizu was well aware, was the jealousy aroused in him when Ikuo revealed that he’d played the man before. As one failure followed another, this jealousy for some unknown past rival turned into a burning rage.

As a far-off memory, Kizu recalled reading Plato’s words to the effect that human beings cannot hold two different emotions within them at the same time. This idea served to protect the emotions that—at the conscious level—he’d already prevented from making a comeback: the fear that his strong jealousy of Ikuo would accelerate the spread of the cancer within him, and his regret at having run from the advice he’d received in America to have himself get a thorough examination.

Dancer phoned him, asking him, if it was possible, to come over to discuss something with Patron. Recently Kizu had caught a ride two or three times with Ikuo when he went back to the office, but each time he found everyone rushing around like mad and had left without speaking with Patron.

Today, though, as he entered Patron’s bedroom study, he spied a plan of the buildings in Shikoku that Dancer had prepared. As was his wont, though they hadn’t seen each other since the memorial service, Patron didn’t greet Kizu; instead, he seemed to be watching him closely. Finally Patron spoke up, explaining how he wanted to move his office to the building in the woods shown in the plan and start his church there. Kizu mentioned he’d heard from the newspaper reporter that the buildings were unusual modern structures and were being taken care of very thoroughly—but Patron cut him short.

“After they purchased these buildings, the followers apparently took turns staying in them for short periods of time,” Patron said, “and things went smoothly between the people from the Kansai headquarters and the local
people. Which isn’t to say that if we move there to build our church there won’t be friction. We need to understand this before we begin, and I think as Ikuo said the first step is to have an organized vanguard group of followers move to Shikoku. I’d planned to start the new movement with people who contacted me after the Somersault, but what Ogi’s done will eventually be of use.”

Patron went on to explain what Kizu was aware of how the Kansai headquarters had directed his attention to this woods surrounded by mountains and how things had developed since then.

“The Kansai headquarters, which essentially means the whole church that’s been active till now, has proposed to give these buildings over to me in order for me to build a new church. While Guide and I were in hell and completely unproductive, the Kansai headquarters built up quite a sound financial base. Sometimes I even wonder whether it’s right to accept all they’ve accomplished.”

“If the church will again be centered around you and these people will be absorbed into it,” Kizu said, “their proposal makes perfect sense. You might even say that after your Somersault the Kansai headquarters anticipated a day like this and prepared accordingly.”

“I imagine that to them my actions in the Somersault must have seemed pretty shallow.”

“But when you look at all the groups that have been able to maintain themselves independently,” Kizu said, “the Kansai headquarters, the women’s commune, and the former Izu radical faction, that must mean your teachings had an underlying and enduring strength.”

“But Guide and I completely denied those teachings. And I’m not about to reverse my position.”

“When I listen to you I get the impression you want to reach out first of all to the followers you abandoned. What with all those fights the local government had to get Aum Shinrikyo to evacuate their
satyan
, I imagine our job from now on won’t be easy.”

“Indeed it won’t,” Patron said, a glint in his eye. “Can I ask you, too, Professor, to move to our new headquarters in Shikoku?”

“Ikuo is very enthusiastic about your plan for the church and, as I’ve told you, I go where he goes.”

Still looking Kizu straight in the eye, Patron said, “Of course, I’ll also be counting on you to be the new Guide. Anyway, the reason I asked you to come over today is that Dancer feels anxious. She thinks you’ve changed somehow. Now that I see you myself I see something’s troubling you. I haven’t asked Ikuo about this, but I feel there’s something going on with you physically that isn’t encouraging.”

Kizu was surprised, but at the same time he found this completely natural. “At the beginning of this month I started to show some clear symptoms,” he began. “And I had a specialist confirm what I thought. It’s not at a stage where an operation would help much, and actually I left America because I didn’t feel like having one. It’s terminal cancer. My doctor was very sympathetic to my viewpoint and said he’ll help me control the pain so I can remain active on my own.

“As time goes on it’ll be harder and harder for me to be the Guide, but as long as I’m not a burden, I want nothing more than to help Ikuo. At my checkup I wasn’t given a definite amount of time I have left, but I’m counting on a year.”

Patron leaned forward toward Kizu, his head tilted to one side. Kizu saw his intent eyes fill with a sorrow deeper than any he’d ever seen in a living person, let alone in any painting. In the very depths of this, like another eye, Patron gazed with great curiosity at this being named Kizu before him.

“Since you were told you have a year to live by someone with experience in these matters, I imagine that’s the way it’ll turn out. You may be going through a physical crisis, but spiritually you’re strong. While I’m still able to count on your help, I want to make very clear again the significance behind my starting this church. If the historian doesn’t have much time left, the ones creating history can’t afford to dawdle.... I expect that within this year, sooner rather than later, you will see a
sign
I give, or a sign I
become
, and then you’ll be able to write your history. I’ll say it once again—
that
will be your task as the new Guide.”

Patron lowered his eyelashes—thick lashes for a man his age. Eyes closed, he remained silent, as if he’d forgotten Kizu was there. Noiselessly Kizu stood up, left the room, and reported to Dancer what had just taken place. With a look that said she realized something very important had transpired in their discussion, she disappeared down the darkened corridor.

In the minivan on their way back to Kizu’s apartment, Kizu told Ikuo about Patron’s comments about looking for a sign—and
becoming
a sign—within a year. And related to this he told him all about his cancer. As always, Ikuo kept his eyes on the road as he drove. Kizu looked straight ahead too, even after he finished, but he could sense that Ikuo was deeply moved by what he’d heard. After a long stretch of silence, Ikuo finally spoke.

“When I was at a turning point in my life, you gave me a clue as to where to go, even though it meant a personal sacrifice on your part. We still haven’t known each other that long, but you’ve done this for me any number of times.
When Patron heard you had cancer and only a year left, he must have come to a decision. I don’t know what he means about giving a
sign
, but I do know you should take it seriously.”

When they arrived at the apartment, as if by unspoken agreement they put off making dinner and went directly to bed. Ikuo diligently kneaded and massaged Kizu’s buttocks and gave them some light slaps. Other than a few words to make sure that he wasn’t putting too much weight on Kizu’s abdomen—that it wasn’t painful—Ikuo was silent. Soon, as if making a comfortable breakthrough in Kizu’s body, Ikuo’s penis penetrated him at a single stroke, and he stopped moving. Taking his time, Ikuo caressed Kizu’s testicles and penis, as well as the area around his own penis that was so snugly buried. With Ikuo’s penis deep within him, Kizu came. It was exactly the kind of internal
intense
feeling that Naomi had spoken of.

Soon, making sure that his penis wasn’t pushed out, Ikuo, gingerly pushing his weight forward and asking Kizu again if it hurt him, slowly penetrated deeper into Kizu’s now relaxed body. After a short spell of smooth in-and-out, with a youthful sigh Ikuo came. Kizu felt a damp heat spread through him, and experienced again the same sensation, but on a gentler scale. Ikuo’s now half-limp penis slowly, then at the end more quickly, exited his body, and Kizu knew exactly what Naomi meant when, after that first sexual encounter, she’d pronounced it
lovely
.

Kizu experienced a deep sense of fulfillment now that their sexual love had been consummated. Lying face down, he was unable to see Ikuo as, back turned to him, he carefully wiped himself and Kizu down with a towel—his only regret in an otherwise satisfying encounter.

4

With their sexual relationship now cemented, the circle complete, Kizu no longer felt as compelled as he had before to have sexual relations with Ikuo. And the same was nearly true of Ikuo. They were sexually calm, like an experienced middle-aged couple.

Kizu had finished the technical preparations for the oil tableau he’d begun in Tokyo, and though he hadn’t yet settled on a major theme, he worked in tandem on several works that were vaguely leading him in that direction, all of which kept him occupied. Ikuo spent most of his time on preparations for the move to Shikoku, and even when he could return to the apartment to model for Kizu, more often than not he had to rush off without any sexual interludes. Free of any sexual frustration or psychological turmoil, though,
Kizu saw his young lover off and found himself rather enjoying the free time and quiet to continue his painting. Along with the years of exhaustion he’d felt ever since his cancer had resurfaced, a lingering sense of weariness after such
intense
sexual intercourse also had something to do with this.

For their part, after creating a model of the new church in Shikoku, Patron and Dancer were hoping that Kizu would come to the office. Ogi and Ikuo were both busy with their respective groups—the communal women’s group that lived along the Odakyu Line for Ogi, the remnants of the Izu research group for Ikuo—trying to get some concrete plans nailed down for the groups to move to Shikoku, and Patron, Dancer, and Ikuo spent much time in the office discussing these matters.

Two weeks after revealing his disease to Patron, Kizu caught a ride to the office after Ikuo had spent the night. Ikuo had an appointment to finalize some plans with Dr. Koga, so Kizu got out in Shibuya and hailed a cab from there. Hearing this, Dancer said, “Ikuo’s pretty cold, isn’t he,” knowing all the while that Ikuo needed to concentrate on his work and that preparations with the former radical faction were on track.

Dancer had heard from Patron about Kizu’s illness and already had made known to Patron her concerns about his health, yet now that she was face-to-face with him she didn’t express her sympathy. Trusting in Patron’s healing power, though, she made sure that when he was in the office Kizu sat nearest to Patron. When they went into Patron’s room to talk, they established a pattern of lining Kizu’s chair up beside Patron’s armchair, with Dancer facing them as she took notes. Sitting like this, Kizu felt a definite heat radiating from Patron that spread from his side, to his waist, and then even deeper.

Dancer rearranged the entire office as they prepared for the move to Shikoku. Previously there’d been a low bookshelf for LPs and documents in front of the large glass door leading out to the garden, but this had been moved to the annex and the space it once occupied was wide open. The rainy season had yet to begin, and one sunny luxuriant day followed another, the longuntended garden a cheerful scene now, bursting with young leaves and shoots of grass growing where the doghouse of the poisoned Saint Bernard had once been.

Along with the new arrangement of the chairs, there was now a couch set out behind them, next to the bathroom. It was newly purchased, something they planned to take with them to Shikoku, and on the day Kizu took the cab to the office and was escorted into Patron’s room, he found Morio Tachibana lying on the couch, reading a small yellow book of musical scores. When Patron, calling Ms. Tachibana’s brother by his first name, asked him
to put on a CD, the brevity of the response made Kizu realize that this wasn’t the first time Morio had spent time here.