The Fox and the Merchant

Burdensome Lust

The flames in the hearth had died down, but Ichiro's desire continued to burn as he awaited Kumiko's response. He noticed the way her tongue stuck out ever so slightly, and exhaled at the thought that her full lips were the ones he might soon have to kiss.

Nothing more. No matter what happens, you have to restrain-

"Fair enough," Kumiko said dejectedly. "I do hope you'll change your mind, though."

"I have no intention of doing that," Ichiro claimed while doing his best to ignore the fear of losing control. "We're already putting ourselves at great risk."

"Oh, I understand." She directed her attention to the floor, prompting him to realize that a bowl of rice was ready for him. "I just wish you would trust me more."

Ichiro picked up his meal. "I haven't even known you for a day. We'll need more time if we are to..." He stared at the countless white grains in front of him. "...sleep together."

Kumiko reached for her bowl without breaking focus. "I see. If that's how you feel, then I'll try again with someone else." She passed him a pair of chopsticks. "Will you still let me change your bandages, though?"

"My bandages?" Ichiro looked down at his exposed chest and swallowed. "No, I can manage on my own," he replied, knowing that her touch would only fuel his desire further. "By the way, where are my clothes?"

Kumiko averted her eyes and pressed her thumbs together. "I had to perform urgent actions to save your life."

"And those were?" Ichiro asked, beginning to feel uneasy.

"I tied your obi around your wound to stem the bleeding. Then I turned your outer garment into a rope, which I used to fasten you to my back."

Ichiro found this explanation a little absurd, but he could think of no other way she might have taken him to safety. He briefly closed his eyes with a sigh. "And what about my belongings?"

"They're in the corner over there." Kumiko gestured towards the right side of the room. Ichiro turned his head in that direction, and sure enough, there lay his hemp bag with his hat balanced on top. "Please forgive me, though. I was not able to recover everything."

"No, there's no reason to do so," Ichiro asserted while observing her pretty face and slender figure. "I'm glad that you came late. Those men were brutes, and it frightens me to think of what they could have done to you."

To his surprise, Kumiko clenched her lips together as if trying to suppress a smile. There was nothing amusing about a woman being ravished, so this reaction bothered him greatly.

"I don't think you understand what I mean," he said in the hope that she was displaying her innocence again. "They would have shown you even less mercy than they did me."

Kumiko's expression grew serious. "That may be true, but it's over now. They won't come after you again."

"Are you sure? Men like that never stay in one place..."

"It will be like finding a needle in a haystack. You are just one man out of thousands, so I would say that another encounter is unlikely."

Ichiro could not argue with such words, though he still felt afraid. He knew that if the bandits found him alive, they would not hesitate to strike again. Perhaps they would even devote effort to ensuring he was dead, either by stabbing him several more times or beheading him as the government reportedly did to those who broke the law.

He turned towards Kumiko and forced out words he did not wish to hear. "I know. But, if it does happen, please do all you can to run away. Someone will need to tell others of my fate so that justice might be served."

As predicted, she stared at him like he was mad. "Don't you say that," she scolded while clenching her fists. "I'm stronger than I look, and with me by your side, you won't have to worry about death."

"I find that hard to believe. Unless you're a skilled warrior, you'd be useless as a bodyguard."

Kumiko suddenly grabbed his forearm with vigor. "That's where you're wrong. I may not be the best around, but I can defend myself well when the need arises."

Her sheer confidence fueled Ichiro's curiosity, and he considered the likeliness that her claim was true. Many physicians and doctors were also samurai, so if Kumiko's father had been such a man, she might have been taught to protect her home from attack.

The firmness of her grip seemed to lend credence to that possibility, and he gave her a pained smile. "Stop. You're hurting me..

Kumiko obliged by withdrawing her hand. "I'm sorry. I must have become too excited..." She wiped her palm against one knee as if trying to get rid of dust or moisture. "Anyway, aren't you going to eat?"

"Oh. Of course." Ichiro positioned his chopsticks to begin his meal, and when he brought a morsel of rice up to his mouth, she reminded him of something that they'd failed to discuss earlier.

"And in regard to dressing your wound, I think it's best to leave it to me. I am the physician, after all."

"I beg your pardon?" Ichiro dropped his portion of rice in alarm before raising his head. The very thing that would wear down his restraint was going to happen, and he could not argue against it. He clenched his teeth, already able to imagine her touch as she wound fresh bandages around his body.

He took a deep breath while being all too aware of the way his chest contracted. There had to be a way he could be free of his lust, but so far, he was at a loss.

"You can decide when to kiss me. However, it is my responsibility to tend to your needs until you are adequately healed. If all goes well, that will take no more than two days..."