The Tea Wife

The Distance

That night Misa had a strange dream. The image of Rui standing robed looking out her window toward the moonlight. It was beautiful the way the light hit the visible cut creases of his body playing with shadow. His hair had been loose again, long enough to pad his massive shoulders. The image was so beautiful that she didn't want to speak even though it surprised her so. Eventually her eyes gave into slumber and heaviness as she heard his feet move across the floor. She had sworn she had felt him standing over her. Then large hands with fingers wild ran across her thinly-robed body like a wet licking heat until her sleep became so deep as to forget where she was. He had become the first thing she wanted to see upon waking.

In the morning, however he was not there. The rooms were empty, including his bedroom with a pillow casually throw aside against a wall. She entered and placed it back onto the bed, pulling the sheets and blankets across as well. Perhaps he had slept poorly. After all he was still recovering from being drugged, insomnia would not be uncommon. The rest of the week was spent with him being absent or a ghost in the condo. She did not want to know too many details of how the Yakuza operated. From the small parts she overheard however, it seemed as though Rui had been turning his sector toward legitimate business. Many of his men were employed as professional bodyguards as opposed to thugs.

Rui took care to try and be away from home that week especially at nights. Somehow Misa did not have any complaints. The refrigerator was kept stocked though she was given a card so that she could order whatever fresh meals she wanted from local restaurants. When he was home he shut himself up in his office immersing himself in financial transfers and news of the day. Occasionally he found himself opening his desk drawer and looking over the letter again. If Misa knew, if he told her perhaps she would react favorably? The thoughts became so addictive that he took to leaving the rings out in plain sight or even carrying them in his pocket.

During the next week, he was quite alone again in his thoughts. The excuses of being away from home were running thin. Tonight, as he heard her enter the bathroom and the water begin to cascade down like rain. His lonely eyes flittered toward the glass wall hungry for her even though he had tried to hide himself away. The night before he had not been able to control himself. Promising only to watch over her and make sure she rested, instead he found himself with his hands in her hair...kissing the back of her hand. After some thoughtful caresses, he finally forced himself from the room. Saved mostly by his own exhaustion and her light stirring.

Slowly steam began to well up on the glass obscuring his view of her perfect shape. The way she moved even asleep to his touch was enough to make him lose his doubts steadily. If only her heart was as close as her body was now behind that wall. He removed his suit jacket and undressed before he noticed the bed had been remade. No doubt she may have looked for him this morning. Had she seen him in her room? His heart thudded again and as he turned out the lights to lay undressed in bed the hope in his mind began to blossom. Going after her now, even if it was such a short distance between them, he would not let her go again. Sleep however was not going to be easy after such a proclamation, even as he had heard the water cease quite a while ago.