Page 16 of A Dom Vs. Domme Story
Junri’s blushing like a schoolgirl as she passes me with her purse on her shoulder. “This… this way.” Now I feel even worse. I was tearing this hardworking woman away from a guy who was probably going to fuck her until she couldn’t breathe anymore. That’s absolute cruelty in my world.
“You really don’t have to do this.” I follow her down the stairs and onto the narrow street. She pulls out a tissue and wipes her nose before hailing a taxi on the corner. The driver automatically opens the doors for us, and we slip in, my head constantly turning back towardLife of Lily.“If you tell me where your aunt is, I could go find her myself. Maybe she could help me contact the police.”
“Don’t involve the police.” Junri doesn’t bother to buckle up as she gets on her phone. I’m assuming she’s calling her aunt. “We can find him ourselves. If something happened on my family’s watch, I would have found out.Youwould have found out. I promise you that my family is not involved with Mr. Mathers’s disappearance, but they may have a solid lead.”
“But? You’re leaving something else out.”
She shudders. “It has nothing to do with this situation.”
Right. I took her away from her hot date. I’d be annoyed too.
We drive north toward a ward called Ikebukuro, another party hotspot that is crawling with tourists and young clubbers alike. On the surface it looks the same as every other main neighborhood in Tokyo, but I guess many of the people traipsing up and down the crowded sidewalks are different from what you see elsewhere.
Of course, none of them look like Ian.
Fujiko Isoya would have been completely elusive to my foreigner eyes if it weren’t for her niece leading the way into an upscale karaoke lounge. The howling sounds of ‘80s music blasts through the chambers every time someone opens a sound-proofed door. Occasionally a well-dressed man or woman emerges to use the restroom. There are no other foreigners here, and I definitely get a look when I walk in behind Junri.
I don’t know what she says to the receptionist, but five minutes later Fujiko graces us with her presence from the very last lounge down the hall.
She’s wearing a sleek, emerald green wrap dress that accentuates her svelte figure and the green scarf wrapped around her head. A cigarette perches between her delicate fingers as she gives her niece a hardened look. Gone is the mischievous demeanor from last night. I’m hoping we’re not interrupting something terribly important.
Aunt and niece exchange words I can’t understand. Junri is soft-spoken and deferent, while Fujiko keeps things curt. I could choke on the power imbalance in this room. (What does that make me? A complete non-entity? Probably.)
“You can’t find Mr. Mathers?” One eyebrow arches in my direction. Cigarette smoke trails up toward the ceiling, the stench offending my nostrils. “After the party with my brother and nephew?”
I shake my head. “I’ve been looking all day and trying to contact him. His assistant can’t find him, either. I’m really starting to worry.”
Junri interrupts in Japanese. The response Fujiko gives her is more than worrisome – it scares me half to death.
“I have heard nothing,” she says. “My brother said nothing when I saw him this morning, before he left for Sapporo. Only thing he said was that last night was a success.” Fujiko puts her cigarette down when she addresses me. “He would never do something to harm Mr. Mathers, I assure you.”
“I never thought that, but I was hoping someone knew where he was going and what happened to him. Disappearing is definitelynotsomething he does. On purpose, anyway.” Come to think of it, unless he knew he would be cut off from communication for a couple of days, the longest I’ve gone without hearing from Ian since we got serious is… twelve hours? We talk and text every day, even if we don’t see each other in the flesh. I think I’m going through withdrawal at this point. This is on top of my fear!
Fujiko takes another drag of her cigarette while she thinks. “Kunihiro is really the only one to ask. I will call my brother, and…”
“No!” Junri startles us all with her outburst. “I mean… no need to involve him with this.”
Fujiko chuckles. “Understood. If Kunihiro has no leads, though, absolutely call him.”
“Me?”
“I’m not going to have another chance tonight. If I don’t call my brother right now, you’ll have to do it later.”
“Shimatta…”
“Hai. Shimatta.”
Junri checks her watch. “Where is my cousin?”
“If he’s not at the hotel, then I honestly don’t know. I can give you his number, though.”
The idea that Junri doesn’t have the numbers of everyone in her family – let alone family members in her business – is so foreign to me. I’m not saying I think they’re close by default. I’m saying it’s so short-sighted, but I guess this is another one of those obnoxious cultural differences my American ass will never get.
“Thank you.”
Fujiko watches us turn around and leave. She says something sweetly to her niece, who stops, face pale once more. I didn’t understand anything but “date,” which happens to be a borrowed word in Japanese.
I don’t know what Junri says in response. All I know is that we have another awkward elevator ride down to catch yet another cab by the curb.
