Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Washizu walked into the funeral hall, acutely aware of how the mourners turned to look at him and Assistant Manager Shibano with accusing looks. His finger tightened around the string of prayer beads that he carried, but they offered no comfort or reassurance. He knew that no amount of prayers could ever atone for what he had done.

Yuka, the late President Mishima's daughter, didn't limit herself to a silent glare. She jumped to her feet, shouting, "How dare you show your face here? Leave, murderer!"

Washizu fell to his hands and knees, bowing down in abject apology as he wept and begged, "I'm sorry, please forgive me!"

"Get out, you murderer!" Yuka screamed as her mother tried to restrain her, without much success. "Get out!"

Washizu turned and fled, running out into the pouring rain. He found himself at the Mishima Factory and stumbled through the open door. Looking up, he saw President Mishima's body hanging from the rafters, his dead eyes staring at Washizu with the same accusing look as his daughter...

Washizu cried out as he woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed. It was only a dream, he told himself. He took several deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling slowly in an attempt to slow his racing heart.

"Only a dream," he repeated out loud. He had never seen President Mishima's dead body in real life, though Yuka had called him a murderer at the funeral. Washizu didn't resent her for it, because he blamed himself as much as she did, though she probably wouldn't believe it.

He was a little calmer now that he'd shaken off the disorientation of waking from the nightmare. This one had been a little more intense than usual, but otherwise was nothing out of the ordinary. He had experienced similar ones nearly every night since Mishima had committed suicide a little over a year ago.

Still, he wasn't eager to go back to sleep and face the possibility of another nightmare. He glanced at the clock, seeing that it was about an hour before he had to get up for work, so he had might as well just stay up and get an early start.

He had been working at Horizon Investment's New York office for about a year, due in large part to what Shibano had told him after the funeral.

"It can't be helped," Shibano had said at the time, trying to console Washizu, who had blamed himself for denying the loan that could have saved the Mishima Factory. "Japan is a capitalist country. If we can't collect what we owe, we'll be in trouble. As cruel as this sounds...we will absolutely collect on what we lend out. If they can't pay, they'll just have to file for bankruptcy. Ultimately, that is the theory behind capitalism. It's not your fault."

But it had felt like his fault, no matter that the branch manager had ordered him to deny the loan in spite of his desperate pleas. So Washizu had resigned his position at Mitsuba Bank and gone to the U.S. to fully learn the capitalist theory that Shibano had been espousing.

He had found a job at a prominent firm that had ambitions to expand abroad, to Japan in particular. For a year he had worked as an assistant to one of the senior fund managers, but he had done well enough to be promoted and acquire clients and an assistant of his own.

He was supposed to meet his new subordinate today, so now that he was up, Washizu fixed himself a cup of coffee and sat down to take a look at the resume. He'd already read through it once, of course, but there was no harm in being thorough.

On paper, at least, Alan Ward looked good: a recent graduate of a very respectable university who had spent several summers doing clerical work at a Connecticut investment firm. The resume also said that he had lived for two years in Japan during middle school due to his father's work, and spent one summer there during university on an exchange program.

It also said that he was fluent in Japanese, and for what it was worth, had an N-1 level certification in the Japanese Language Proficiency Test. Washizu knew that good test scores didn't necessarily translate to practical use in the real world, but on the other hand, he had no reason to doubt Ward's competency, either.

"He seems like a bright and promising young man," Albert Claris had told Washizu. "I'm sure the two of you will work well together."

Which meant that they had better work well together, like it or not, so there was no point in worrying about something that he couldn't change. Besides, Claris, Washizu's boss and the head of Horizon's main office, had high standards and little patience for anyone who failed to meet them. Which meant that the new hire would be as good as he seemed, or he would not be around for long.

A few hours later, Washizu was standing in Claris's office being introduced to his assistant.

"I'm Alan Ward," said the young man in fluent, unaccented Japanese. He bowed to the precise degree appropriate for subordinate to superior, then said, "I'll be working under you; please lend me your guidance."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Washizu replied automatically, though he was slightly startled by Ward's appearance. American resumes didn't normally include photos, and he hadn't given much thought as to what his assistant might look like, being more concerned with his professional qualifications. Fair-skinned with fair-ish hair a few shades darker than blond, Alan Ward was strikingly handsome, and for just a moment, Washizu allowed himself to be captivated.

Then, just as quickly, he dismissed the thought from his mind. Getting involved with a subordinate was a good way to jeopardize his career--even assuming that Ward would want to get involved with him, which was by no means certain. During the past year he had spent in New York working at Horizon and studying capitalism, Washizu had formulated a plan, a long-term goal for attacking the corrupt and inept Japanese business practices that had caused the Mishima Factory's downfall. But all of that would be for naught if he got demoted or fired over a workplace affair.

He was careful to keep his face politely attentive but otherwise expressionless, and the other two men didn't seem to notice anything amiss. "You speak Japanese very well," he told Ward.

"Oh no, not at all," the younger man demurred politely, although he seemed pleased by the praise. "I've been studying, but I still have a lot to learn."

"I knew the two of you would be a good fit," Claris said heartily. "Why don't you go ahead and show Alan the ropes, Masahiko?"

Washizu took that as the polite dismissal that it was. "Yes, sir," he said, and left the office along with Ward.

Ward--or rather Alan (who, like most of Washizu's other colleagues, preferred to be called by his first name)--turned out to be an ideal subordinate. He was intelligent, hardworking, and diligent. Being new at the job, he needed instruction, but never needed to be told anything twice.

Alan also politely asked if they could speak Japanese when they were alone together. "I don't get much chance to practice, so it would be a big help, if you don't mind," he explained.

"Fine by me," Washizu said, and to be honest, it was something of a relief. He was fluent in English and it came more naturally to him now that he'd been in the States for a year, but it still took a conscious effort to mentally translate conversations from English to Japanese and vice versa. It was nice to relax a little and speak Japanese with someone for a change.

A few of the other Horizon employees, mostly the younger ones who hadn't been here much longer than Alan, muttered behind his back about him being a kiss-ass. And he probably was doing it partly to get into Washizu's good graces, but Washizu didn't hold that against him. It was no different than the tactics that salarymen back home in Japan used to advance their careers, and Alan always managed to convey an attitude that was respectful without being obsequious.

The only problem was that he was maybe a little too diligent. Alan stayed late on his first day of work, not leaving until Washizu did. That seemed normal enough for a new employee who wanted to impress his boss with his dedication.

But it happened again on the second night, and then the third, even when Washizu told him that he could go home.

"I know that in Japan, employees don't go home before the boss does, but we're in America now and I don't expect that of you," Washizu said.

"It's fine," Alan replied with a pleasant smile. "I could use the chance to get caught up on this paperwork, and besides, you're working late even though Claris went home hours ago."

"I have no social life," Washizu said dryly. He did only the minimal amount of socializing with clients and colleagues that was necessary for his job, and he knew that he was regarded by most of the latter as a humorless workaholic. But he wasn't here to have fun; he was here to gain enough power and money to be able to go back to Japan one day and challenge the status quo.

"Well, neither do I," Alan laughed. "I just moved here from Connecticut, so I haven't had a chance to make friends yet. I have no social life to speak of, so I might as well be productive in my spare time."

Washizu couldn't argue with that, although Alan could be making friends if he really wanted to. He was charming and personable, and seemed to get along well enough with most of the other young Horizon employees that he interacted with, aside from the ones who made the snide comments.

On the other hand, they were all ambitious, which often translated to ruthless, so it could be unwise to get too close to someone who might stab you in the back later. Still, it didn't stop most of them from making at least superficial friendships on the level of getting a few drinks together after work.

And in fact, the very next day, a few of the younger Horizon workers called out to Alan as they left. "Hey, we're going out for drinks, Alan--want to join us?"

"Thanks, but maybe some other time," Alan said. "I want to finish going over these figures."

"All work and no play makes Alan a dull boy," one of the men quipped.

"Isn't there a Japanese word for death by overworking?" someone else asked.

"Karoshi," Alan replied.

"You and your boss are two of a kind," the first man said. "Better make sure you don't karoshi yourselves."

He grinned to make it seem like a joke, but there was a hint of malice in his smile. There were a number of people at Horizon who regarded Washizu as an unwelcome rival, and it seemed like Alan's would-be friend was one of them.

Alan just laughed and waved them off, but once they were gone, he muttered, "Assholes," not quite under his breath.

The Washizu who had first starting working at Mitsuba Bank would have been angered and a little hurt by the insults and snide remarks, but he was no longer that naive young man. By now, he was indifferent to it, but he did find it amusing that Alan was more offended by the slight to his honor than he was.

"That can wait until tomorrow, you know," Washizu said, motioning to the stack of papers that Alan was going through.

"You're working late," Alan pointed out, slipping easily back into Japanese, so Washizu did likewise.

"I told you, I have no social life," Washizu reminded him. "But it's fine if you want to go out and get a drink."

"Not with that bunch of losers," Alan said scornfully.

"With a different bunch of losers, then," Washizu said with a straight face, startling Alan into more sincere laughter.

"Maybe some other time."

"Seriously, you should go out and have fun sometimes," Washizu said. "You're too young to be a workaholic like me."

"You talk like you're an old man," Alan said with a quizzical smile. "You're not that much older than me, are you?"

Washizu was actually only four years older than Alan, but his new assistant seemed so bright and eager and fresh-faced that he made Washizu feel old and cynical in comparison. He'd once had the same enthusiasm as a new recruit at Mitsuba Bank, but that had died along with President Mishima. It was such a waste...two-point-five million yen, or the equivalent of about twenty-five thousand dollars, was all he had needed to save the factory, but the bank had denied the loan even though it was only a piddling amount compared to the billions of yen that they had loaned out to bigger companies.

Washizu had raged and wept over the injustice of it at the time, but now he wondered if maybe Mishima was the one who was foolish for committing suicide over such a measly sum of money...

But Alan was staring at him curiously, so Washizu tried to shake off his dark mood and push aside those dark memories, at least for the moment. He could never forget them entirely, but he had learned to shunt them aside to a distant corner of his mind so that he could concentrate on his work. If they returned to haunt him in his dreams later...well, that was something he had learned to live with. It was part of the reason why he worked late every night, to keep himself too busy to think about the past.

"All right, then," he said briskly. "If you're determined to stay, let's finish this up and get started on the bid estimate."

"Yes, sir," Alan replied.

Washizu shook his head slightly in bemusement. Alan was certainly not the only person at Horizon who worked unpaid overtime to impress the boss and/or advance his career, but it was rare for someone to look so pleased about it.

Alan continued working diligently, both during official work hours and into the evenings until Washizu left or gave him a direct order to go home. After about two weeks of this, Washizu finally gave up.

"Enough," he said.

"Washizu-san?" Alan said, looking up from his work in surprise.

"Let's call it a night," Washizu said. "You've been working hard, so let me take you out for a drink as a reward."

"Really?" Alan asked, his eyes lighting up.

"Really," Washizu replied, smiling faintly. Alan looked so young and eager that it was almost cute, though once again, it made him feel about a hundred years old.

Washizu knew that he was regarded as cold and standoffish by the other Horizon employees, but that had been a deliberate choice on his part. Being too emotional had been his mistake in the past. He had gotten too close to the Mishima family to be objective and do his job as a bank employee.

He had also put too much faith in his mentor. Washizu had admired Shibano's ideals and wanted to emulate him, but in the end, Shibano had turned out to be fallible and ineffectual, unable to do anything except to offer empty sympathy after President Mishima's suicide.

When he came to America, Washizu had vowed not to make the same mistake again, which was why he had tried to keep his relationships with his Horizon colleagues distant and professional. But he was probably going to be working closely with Alan for some time, perhaps over the next several years, since Claris had obviously hired both of them with the intention of expanding into Japan.

Which meant that Washizu would have to bend his unspoken rule against socializing a little. After all, it wouldn't hurt to reward Alan's diligence and initiative with a drink after work every now and then, as long as Washizu made sure to keep the proper boundaries between supervisor and subordinate. He wouldn't repeat the mistake of letting his personal feelings override his professionalism.

By now it was past dinnertime, so he asked, "Do you like Japanese food?"

"Of course," Alan replied.

"Then I know a good place," Washizu said, and took Alan to his favorite bar, which was run by a Japanese expatriate who used to run an izakaya back in Japan. The owner, Hashimoto, had duplicated the atmosphere of his old place--casual and low key, along with the menu, which featured simple but tasty food at reasonable prices.

It had become something of a refuge to Washizu, a place where he could go when he felt homesick, to eat familiar food and converse in Japanese with Hashimoto, who was happy to make pleasant small talk without prying into Washizu's past. He had never taken anyone from Horizon there before, but he was in a good mood and thought that Alan was the only person in the company who would actually appreciate it.

By the time they got there, he was beginning to have second thoughts, but it was too late to change his mind.

"Irrashaimase," Hashimoto said, calling out the standard welcome before switching to English. "You've brought company today, Washizu-san--how rare."

"This is Alan Ward, my new assistant," Washizu replied.

"I'm Alan; it's nice to meet you," Alan said in Japanese.

"Oh, you speak Japanese very well," a surprised Hashimoto said.

"Not at all, but you're kind to say so," Alan replied, with a token show of modesty.

Hashimoto chatted with them between serving other customers, and Washizu let Alan do most of the talking, finding it interesting to observe him. Most of the Horizon employees preferred to enjoy the finer things in life and patronized bars and restaurants that were (in their eyes, at least) commensurate with their status. They would have expected Washizu to take them to an upscale sushi bar, and would have considered a place like this beneath them.

Alan, on the other hand, looked at ease here, and sincerely seemed to enjoy the food and the sake (mid-priced; good but not extravagant) that Hashimoto had recommended to go along with it. Or, to take a more cynical view, perhaps Alan was merely pretending to have a good time so as not to offend his boss.

Hashimoto asked Alan where he had learned to speak Japanese so well, and Alan replied that he had lived in Japan when he was in middle school due to his father's work. Washizu knew this much from Alan's resume, but not the details. He had been a little curious, but had refrained from asking questions that might encourage Alan to ask questions in return that Washizu would rather not answer.

Conveniently, now he could sit back and listen while Hashimoto made small talk with Alan.

"So what kind of work did your father do?"

"He's a professor of Japanese literature, and he was offered a guest teaching position at a university in Japan," Alan replied.

"That's very impressive," Hashimoto said. "Is he famous?"

"Only among other scholars," Alan laughed. "Though I guess you can say he's well-respected in the academic world. In any case, it did give me the opportunity to live in Japan for a couple of years."

"It must have been difficult, moving to a different country at that age," Hashimoto sympathized.

"Actually, I thought it was a great adventure," Alan said with a grin. "I still keep in touch with a few of my old friends from school."

"And now you've ended up working with Washizu-san," Hashimoto said. "Funny how things work out."

"Well, it's not a complete coincidence," Alan said. "I kept studying Japanese because I thought I might like to go back there someday, and I applied at Horizon partly because they were planning to expand into Japan."

Hashimoto had to interrupt the conversation to wait on another customer, and Alan turned to Washizu and asked, "What about you, Washizu-san? What made you decide to come to America?"

Washizu said evasively, "Oh, I just needed a change of pace. Business hasn't been good in Japan since the bubble burst."

Alan dropped the subject and turned the conversation back to more harmless topics like food. Washizu gave him a small smile of approval, pleased that he'd taken the hint without needing to be prodded.

"Bring Alan-san back again some time," Hashimoto called out as they left.

"I will," Washizu said, and Alan smiled as if he'd been granted a special privilege. Which in a sense he had, although it was doubtful that anyone else at Horizon would have regarded it as such.

Any worries that Washizu might have had about his new assistant were soon dismissed. Alan turned out to be the perfect subordinate, continuing to be hard-working and diligent. And, as he had at the izakaya, he was quick to pick up on Washizu's unspoken cues, ready to jump into a presentation to a client at a glance or nod from Washizu. Sometimes it was just to present facts or figures, and sometimes it was to play good cop/bad cop in negotiations to buy out a debt or business from a reluctant seller. Alan's natural charm was an asset in the former role, leaving Washizu to be the ruthless negotiator.

"You don't mind being hated?" Alan asked after a particularly hostile takeover.

"I'm used to it," Washizu replied truthfully. He found it far easier to be hated than to betray someone who had put their trust in him.

When they had first met, Alan had reminded Washizu a little of his younger self, but as it turned out, that was a false impression. Alan was young and eager and enthusiastic, but nowhere near as idealistic or naive as Washizu had been.

A large part of their job involved taking over and selling or restructuring failing businesses, which often resulted in large-scale layoffs. After touring a factory that Horizon was targeting, they were confronted by a crowd of angry workers who shouted insults and profanities at them as they left. Fortunately, the protest remained verbal and didn't escalate into physical violence, but it was the first time that Alan had encountered such a scene, and he looked a little shaken.

Someone shouted a racial slur at Washizu, and Alan started to turn angrily towards the offender, but Washizu lightly touched his arm to catch his attention and keep him moving forward.

"Don't let them see that they've gotten to you," he murmured, keeping his own face calm and expressionless. Alan made an effort to compose himself, and Washizu nodded approvingly.

"It's unfortunate that most of those people will be laid off," Washizu said. "And it's only natural that they would resent us for that. But we have our own job to do, and we can't let our personal feelings get in the way of that." He thought with a touch of bitter irony that Shibano had once said something similar to him after President Mishima's funeral.

They got into their car, and Alan said, "Of course," looking more confident now that they were safe from the angry mob. "It's not our fault that their company is in the red. They should be angry at their management, not us."

They eventually closed the deal, earning a personal congratulations from Claris, and celebrated with a drink that night at the izakaya. Alan happily drank a toast with Washizu, apparently unconcerned about the "massive layoffs" reported in the news, though he was mildly offended by the unflattering references to "vulture funds". His reaction at the factory had probably been more fear for their personal safety than a crisis of conscience.

If a small part of him was disappointed, Washizu was mostly relieved by that. He didn't want to shatter another young man's idealistic illusions, but more than anything else, he didn't want to be reminded of the mistakes that his foolish younger self had made in the past.

They continued to work well together, and Washizu continued to bring Alan with him to the izakaya after work a few times a week. Alan followed Washizu's lead, restricting the conversation to work or trivial topics, never getting too personal.

Washizu had come to enjoy those after-work drink sessions, which provided a bit of relief to the grueling work schedule he had imposed on himself since coming to New York. Back then, it had been easier to keep his mind busy with work because in idle moments, he would always find himself reliving a past that he couldn't change.

But Alan, being conversant with Japanese language and customs, provided enough familiarity to ease the homesickness that Washizu hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge until now. At the same time, being a foreigner who knew nothing of Washizu's past, he didn't bring back unpleasant memories or ask unwelcome questions, as Washizu's family and friends back in Japan would have.

The relationship between himself and Alan was not precisely friendship, but it was enough for Washizu. Besides, getting too close to people was what had started off the whole mess that had sent running off to America.

Chapter Text

Alan hadn't been given a choice when he was assigned to Washizu, but he quickly determined that he didn't want to work with anyone else. Washizu had been with the firm for only one year, but was already a rising star singled out for special attention by Claris. The fact that older and more experienced fund managers at Horizon envied and resented Washizu was proof enough that he was on the career fast track, and Alan intended to rise along with him.

Other people at Horizon described Washizu in various unflattering terms: cold, emotionless, robotic, ruthless. Mostly they were a bunch of jealous pricks, Alan thought. There might be a seed of truth in their insults, but those were actually the things that Alan admired about his boss.

He liked that Washizu was ambitious and ruthless and above all efficient, carrying out his work without caring whether people liked him or hated him, which was good, since it was mostly the latter.

Washizu soon acquired other subordinates as he continued his rapid rise in the ranks. The other managers' underlings expressed only half-joking relief that they didn't have such a workaholic for a boss. However, Alan thought he and his colleagues had the better deal.

It was true that he worked his subordinates hard, but Washizu drove himself even harder. And he was strict but fair--the other managers would often take credit for their subordinates' work and ideas, but Washizu always gave credit where it was due, and made sure that they shared in bonuses when it was appropriate.

He often took his team out to an expensive restaurant or bar to reward them for a job well done after closing a deal, but Alan was pleased to note that he was the only one that Washizu took to the izakaya. He was senior among Washizu's assistants by virtue of being first, but they were all ambitious and would no doubt be happy to usurp his position, so Alan felt pride in being granted that privilege.

It was a privilege that the others knew nothing about, since Washizu had never mentioned the izakaya to them, but in a way, it added to Alan's pleasure that Washizu trusted him enough to share this small secret with him. He also liked being the only one to see Washizu relax and let his guard down just a little, something Alan was sure that no one else at Horizon had ever seen.

Nearly two years after he'd started working at Horizon, Washizu now had a team of subordinates working under him: Eric Reid, Robert Matthews, and Caroline Whaley, who was something of a rarity in the male-dominated Horizon office. Like Alan, they were all young, bright, ambitious, and fluent in Japanese.

They competed with each other to impress him and jockey for position--a new experience to Washizu, who hadn't been high-ranking enough to warrant one subordinate, let alone four back in Japan. The rivalry between Alan and Robert was especially fierce, but it was mostly beneficial because it made them strive to work harder.

He had seen such rivalries get out of hand at Mitsuba and Horizon, though, so he made it clear that it had better not interfere with their work. Both men settled down and worked together efficiently, albeit with a bit of verbal sniping from time to time.

Alan still worked the hardest out of all of them, and was the one who anticipated Washizu's orders best, sometimes before he needed to give them. Nor did he seem to expect any special treatment because of their not-quite-friendship, which made Washizu regard him with even more approval. So Alan continued to be the one that he relied on most, and the after-work trips to the izakaya continued without any awkwardness.

Despite their rivalry, Alan did go out drinking after work with Robert and the others from time to time, partly because because they would have thought it odd if he didn't. He still worked more overtime than anyone else, but if he'd spent every single night working late with Washizu, it might encourage unsavory rumors even though there was nothing inappropriate going on between them.

Besides, now that his position as Washizu's right-hand-man was pretty much secure, he didn't mind going out and blowing off a little steam with his coworkers.

However, a potential problem arose from those late night drinking sessions. Robert and Eric often flirted with women at the bars they went to, and were good-looking enough to leave with a companion for the evening more often than not, or at least to collect a few phone numbers. Alan did a bit of flirting for the sake of appearances, but had no interest in women. He collected his share of phone numbers, but threw them all away.

Robert started dating one of the women he'd met at the bars, and although his relationships were never serious, this one lasted long enough to make trouble for Alan.

"Hey, Jenny's friend gave you her phone number last week, but you never called," Robert said to Alan at work one morning.

"What?" Eric asked incredulously. "Is she not your type? I think she's drop dead gorgeous!"

"I told you, I have a girlfriend," Alan said impatiently. He wasn't ashamed of being gay, and he didn't think that Eric and Robert would really care if they knew, but some of their clients and the senior Horizon staff would, and it was a weapon that might be used against him. So just to be on the safe side, he'd invented an on-again, off-again relationship with a woman who lived on the west coast. He based the details on one of his female college friends who was amused to play the role of his fictional girlfriend, though all she'd had to do so far was let him borrow her name.

"Yeah, but she lives in L.A., right?" Robert asked. "What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

"Don't be a pig, Robert," Caroline said, though without much heat, being used to what she called "his horndog ways".

"Oink oink," Robert said with a grin, and Caroline just smiled and shook her head.

"Seriously, Alan," Eric said, "how long are you going to keep up this long distance thing? I mean, I get that she's your college sweetheart, but you guys live on opposite sides of the country."

"Maybe you haven't heard of them, but there are things called phones and airplanes," Alan said dryly. "Besides, I'm too busy to have a full-time girlfriend, so this is working fine for me."

"Ah, you're just like the boss, married to your work," Robert sighed.

"That's funny, because I don't see much working going on," Washizu said sarcastically as he came up behind them.

Everyone jumped and hastily got back to work with apologies of "Sorry, sir," and "Sorry, Washizu-san."

Alan was saved from further inquiry by that convenient interruption, but then his friend came to New York to visit family, coincidentally around the time that he had a company party to attend, and he decided to take advantage of the opportunity.

"Sure, I'll play your girlfriend, but it's going to cost you," Mari said with a smirk.

"I'll buy you dinner," Alan promised.

"And tickets to a Broadway show."

"You drive a hard bargain."

"How many other fake girlfriends do you have?"

"Fine," Alan laughed. "I give in."

Horizon was having a party to celebrate its fiftieth anniversary, and employees were allowed to bring their spouses or significant others. Washizu, of course, had neither and no one was surprised to see him arrive alone.

What was surprising was that Alan showed up with a beautiful woman on his arm. Washizu's other team members stared at the couple with looks of shock and speculation on their faces.

"Oh my," Caroline said. "Do you suppose that this is the mysterious girlfriend?"

Her question was answered a moment later when Alan walked up and said, "This is Mari Takeuchi, the friend from college that I was telling you guys about."

"So this is your long-distance girlfriend!" Robert exclaimed. "We were beginning to think he'd made you up." Eric elbowed him in the side, and he said, "What?" Eric just sighed and shook his head.

With a mischievous smile, Mari said, "And you must be Robert."

"Ah, I see my reputation proceeds me," Robert laughed.

Alan introduced Mari to the rest of them, and Washizu said politely, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"So you're the famous Washizu-san," Mari said, still with a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Alan's told me so much about you."

"Hey," Alan said, looking slightly embarrassed as he cast a sidelong glance of warning at her. Both she and Washizu ignored him.

"Only good things, I hope," Washizu said with a faint smile.

"Of course," Mari replied. "He's always telling me what an amazing negotiator you are, and that you're Horizon's rising star."

Robert muttered something under his breath about Alan being a suck-up as usual, and Eric quickly shushed him, no doubt worried that Washizu might overhear. Which of course he had, but he made a point of not interfering in his subordinates' petty squabbles and games of one-upmanship as long as it didn't adversely affect their work.

After a few more pleasantries, Mari moved on to talk with Caroline. While the two women were occupied, Eric and Robert drew Alan aside.

"I see now why you're willing to do the long distance thing," Eric said.

"She's a babe," Robert agreed. "I'm not surprised you'd go for a Japanese girl."

"Don't be a dick, Robert," Alan retorted. "Or at least, not more of one than usual."

"What?" Robert asked. "What did I say?"

Alan rolled his eyes and said dryly, "I don't have a fetish for Japanese girls, and anyway, she's third generation Japanese-American. I speak better Japanese than she does."

"It's a bit rude of him to say so, but it's true," Mari laughed, coming up behind them. "My parents tried to send me to Japanese language school when I was a kid, but who wants extra lessons at that age? I was more interested in playing video games than getting in touch with my heritage."

Her response eased the tension between Alan and Robert, and allowed them to go back to at least making a show of being cordial.

Washizu faded into the background, observing them silently. Alan and Mari made an attractive couple and seemed to suit each other well. That thought gave Washizu a sense of mingled relief and disappointment; he firmly quashed the latter.

It was much better this way, he told himself. It was utterly inappropriate for a boss to have an affair with a subordinate, and it was best that even the faintest possibility of temptation was removed. Ethics aside, romance would only be a distraction from his long-term goals.

Besides, after what had happened with President Mishima, he didn't deserve to find any happiness other than the cold satisfaction of advancing up the career ladder at Horizon. Even that was not done for pleasure, but for the purpose of someday becoming powerful enough to return to Japan and take on its corrupt, ineffectual financial system and tear it down by force, if necessary.

Then Claris came up to congratulate him on his latest successful deal, and Washizu put a polite smile on his face, setting aside dark thoughts and future goals for another time.

The blame--or credit, depending on one's point of view-- for altering the comfortable but impersonal working relationship between Washizu and Alan went to Robert, although that hadn't been his intention.

It all started when they attended a charity fundraiser dinner hosted by the granddaughter of one of Horizon's biggest clients. All the fund managers were unofficially expected to attend, and many of their subordinates did as well, hoping to curry favor. Washizu bought a table for his staff, which fortunately spared Alan and his colleagues the expense, although it was probably more to impress Claris and the client than out of sympathy for their wallets.

There were the usual boring speeches during the meal, and afterwards there was music and dancing, or for those not inclined to dance, a chance to have a few drinks and network with the other guests, and perhaps lay the groundwork for a future business deal.

Before they had a chance to do any drinking or mingling, Claris walked over with a young woman that they recognized from previous speeches.

"Masahiko, I'd like you to meet Karen Muramoto, the hostess of this evening's event. Karen, this is Masahiko Washizu."

"It's an honor to meet you," Washizu said politely, shaking her hand.

"Likewise," Karen said with a smile. "I've heard a lot about you--Albert has been singing your praises."

"I'm flattered, though I'm aware that I still have a long way to go," Washizu replied.

"Masahiko is too modest," Claris said. "I'm expecting great things from him."

They exchanged a few more pleasantries, then Claris looked across the room to where an elderly Japanese man was waving at him.

"My dear, I know that I promised you a dance, but I see that your grandfather is calling me. Perhaps Masahiko could fulfill that duty for me."

Washizu showed a rare moment of discomposure, looking taken aback for a split second before a polite mask settled over his face again.

"It would be my honor," Washizu said gallantly, offering Karen his arm. "Although I'm afraid I should warn you that I'm not much of a dancer."

"I'm sure you're being modest again, but if it reassures you, neither am I."

Claris watched with satisfaction as they moved onto the dance floor and managed well enough. He nodded to others at the table and then walked off.

"That's the heiress of the Muramoto family," Robert whispered to the rest of them excitedly. "They lost their home and business when they were sent to the internment camps during World War Two, but old man Muramoto started over from scratch and built up a tiny grocery store in a multi-million dollar corporation. Karen is his only grandchild and will eventually inherit the company."

"As usual, you have the inside scoop," Eric said.

"The old man is one of Horizon's biggest clients," Robert replied. "Of course I've done my homework." Gazing out at the dance floor, he added, "Man, what I wouldn't give to be a fly on that wall."

Alan was having the same thought, and he turned to Caroline and asked, "Would you do me the honor of a dance, milady?"

She blinked in surprise as he made a courtly bow, then smiled as she quickly caught on to his intention. "Thank you, sir, I would," she replied, reaching out to accept his proffered hand.

Robert stared at them with a look of consternation as they danced their way near Washizu and the Heiress (as Alan had already dubbed her in his mind), trying not to be too obvious about eavesdropping.

"Well," Karen was saying with a wry smile, "I'm afraid that my grandfather and Albert are trying to do some not so subtle matchmaking. A merger of sorts, I suppose you'd say."

"And I suppose I should say that I'm honored to be considered worthy," Washizu replied.

"But?" Karen asked, still with that wry smile.

"But I am focusing all my energy on my work right now," Washizu said.

"As am I," Karen replied with a more sincere smile. "I'm not ready to settle down just yet, despite what my grandfather might wish."

"Then at least we're in agreement on that," Washizu said. "Perhaps someday we can have a harmonious business partnership, if not a personal one."

"I look forward to seeing what you can do, Washizu-san," Karen said, giving him a speculative look. "Albert wasn't handing out empty flattery when he said that he expects great things from you."

"Oh, I have a great many things that I wish to achieve," Washizu replied, somewhat cryptically.

The next day they were back at the office, working through lunch in one of the conference rooms to prepare for an important negotiation that was coming up soon. Washizu was off at a meeting, and his subordinates took the opportunity to gossip about the night before.

"So President Muramoto was trying to set up his granddaughter with Washizu?" Eric asked.

"Yes, but he didn't seem interested," Caroline replied.

"She's rich, she's beautiful, she's the heir to the Muramoto empire," Robert said incredulously. "What's not to be interested in?"

"Well, to be fair, she wasn't really interested, either," Caroline said. "They both said that they wanted to concentrate on work, not marriage."

"There's no reason why you can't do both," Robert said.

"I don't see you getting married," Alan pointed out.

Robert grinned. "If I had the opportunity to marry a beautiful heiress, I would!" They all laughed, but then Robert looked thoughtful and said in a more serious voice, "You know, I wonder what kind of women the boss does like, if he's not into the Heiress."

"Does Washizu even have a girlfriend?" Eric wondered out loud. "He's definitely not married, is he?"

Everyone turned to look at Alan, who shrugged. "Not that I know of. He never talks about his personal life." Which was true, and made Alan realize how little he knew about his boss. He'd been proud of the fact that he was closer to Washizu than any of the others, but what did he really know about the man? That he preferred that small, nondescript izakaya to fancier bars or restaurants, and that he had once worked for a bank in Tokyo, but not the name of that bank.

Washizu's reticence had never bothered Alan before, and he wasn't sure why it should now, but it did, just a little. Aloud, he said, "I'm pretty sure that he's not involved with anyone," which was mostly because Washizu seemed to spend almost every waking hour working, aside from their occasional after-work drink sessions.

"If the Heiress isn't his type, then I wonder who is," Eric mused, more to himself than anyone else, but Robert frowned thoughtfully for a moment.

"Do you suppose that maybe it's not the Heiress in particular who's not his type?" he asked. "Maybe his type is men, not women."

The others stared at him in surprise. "It never occurred to me, but I guess it could be," Caroline said. "I've never seen him show any interest in men, but then again, I've never seen him show any interest in women, either."

"Well, Alan spends the most time with him," Eric said. "What do you think?"

"Alan thinks that this is a dangerous line of questioning and that we shouldn't be speculating about the boss's sexual preferences," Alan said dryly.

"Killjoy," Robert said. "There's no need to play the boy scout when the boss isn't here to see. You seriously have no idea of whether he's straight or gay?" When Alan didn't reply, Robert asked, half-jokingly, "You spend all those late nights working with him. Has he ever hit on you?"

"Of course not," Alan said contemptuously. "Even if he were gay, he's much too professional to get involved with a subordinate."

"Yeah, that's true," Eric agreed.

Alan still didn't want to leave any lingering suspicions that he and Washizu might be sleeping together, especially when they weren't. "If you ask me, he's married to his work more than he could be to any man or woman. He's got no free time to be romancing the Heiress or anyone else."

The others laughed a little and nodded in agreement.

"It is hard to picture Washizu-san in love, or even in lust with anyone," Caroline said.

"The people that he worked with before us say he has a heart of stone," Robert added.

"Pot, meet kettle," Alan said sardonically. The other three laughed, and the subject of Washizu's romantic proclivities was dropped as they got back to work. Which was good, because Washizu returned to the office about ten minutes later--earlier than expected--and found his subordinates working industriously instead of gossiping about him.

Everyone else seemed to have forgotten about the matter by the next day, but Alan couldn't stop thinking about it, and it was all Robert's fault, damn him. Objectively speaking, Washizu was an attractive man, but it had never occurred to Alan to think of him in a romantic or sexual way before.

That was partly because of their superior/subordinate relationship, but also because Washizu projected a sense of aloofness that kept everyone at arm's length. He let down his guard a little when the two of them were alone at the izakaya, but even then, there was an unspoken understanding that Alan wouldn't pry into Washizu's personal life. And by the same token, Washizu never asked Alan anything too personal, either, although he didn't object when Alan occasionally mentioned his family and friends or talked about the time he'd spent in Japan. But mostly they only talked about work or trivial topics.

Is Washizu gay? Alan wondered as his gaze drifted over to his boss one night when they were working together after the others had left for the evening. He'd seen no sign that Washizu was attracted to men, but as Caroline had said, he didn't show any attraction towards women, either. Washizu only seemed to show interest in people when it was work related, as colleagues and rivals, or potential targets and clients.

Alan had no false modesty, although he made a show of it when necessary, and was quite aware that he was attractive. He knew, as he had told the others, that even if Washizu was gay, he wouldn't make advances towards one of his subordinates, but at the same time, it hurt his pride a little that Washizu hadn't made advances. That is, if he really were gay, which he might not be.

And even if that were true, it was probably a bad idea to have an affair with one's boss. But still, Alan found the idea intriguing and he couldn't stop thinking about it. He'd been drawn to Washizu from the start, to his ambition and skill and ruthlessness. His admiration had been purely professional at the time, but now...the idea of having a lover with those traits was both intriguing and exciting.

Alan usually would have been more careful, but he was preoccupied with his thoughts, and Washizu looked over and caught Alan staring at him with a speculative look on his face.

"What's on your mind?" Washizu asked, and Alan jumped slightly, startled. He quickly covered up the guilty look on his face with a pleasant smile, but Washizu was a good negotiator because he noticed the smallest details that others would overlook.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, giving Alan a suspicious look.

Alan hadn't intended to tip his hand just yet, but decided he might as well try to turn the situation around to his own advantage. He smiled sheepishly and replied, "Sorry I was just thinking about the party the other night. It seemed like Claris was trying to play matchmaker for you and the Heiress."

"You mean Ms. Muramoto?" Washizu said. "Not at all; it was merely an introduction to an important client."

"Then I'll have to tell Robert that he misunderstood," Alan said lightly. "He was wondering what kind of women you like, if the Heiress, that is, Ms. Muramoto isn't to your liking." He felt a bit of satisfaction in being able to turn the blame back on Robert, where it belonged.

A faint, ironic smile crossed Washizu's face for just a second, so quickly that Alan might have missed it if he hadn't been paying such close attention. He felt a flash of excitement, because it was the same ironic humor that he secretly felt when Robert and Eric tried to get him to join in on their womanizing.

Of course, he might be reading way too much into one smile, but Alan thought his instincts were correct. He had spent enough time around the normally expressionless Washizu that even a tiny show of emotion stood out.

The question was, what did he want to do about it?

"Perhaps I'm not giving all of you enough work if you have enough free time to indulge in idle gossip," Washizu said sternly.

Alan smiled contritely and said, "I'll make sure the gossip stops, so please let it go this time. I'll get the blame from the others if they're punished with extra overtime."

"Fine," Washizu replied. "Let's get back to work." It was probably useless to threaten Alan with overtime anyway, since he voluntarily stayed late every night. Even the others routinely worked overtime without complaint, although it was probably more to compete with Alan than because they enjoyed it.

To Washizu's relief, Alan dropped the subject and they resumed working. He tried to assure himself that it was nothing more than typical office gossip, and that Alan had only brought it up to get Robert in trouble. Fortunately, it seemed that the gossip had not strayed to the subject of whether Washizu preferred men to women--or at least, he hoped not. It was possible that it had, and Alan was too tactful to mention it.

Not that he thought it would really matter to his team if they knew the truth, but he wanted to avoid any malicious rumors arising from the late nights he worked alone with Alan. He had plenty of rivals at Horizon who would be happy to use such rumors against him, and wouldn't care if they'd be tarnishing Alan's reputation along with his.

But the subject never came up again and his team continued functioning efficiently as always, with only the occasional snide remark passing between Alan and Robert.

So everything should have returned to normal, but it didn't. Washizu found himself becoming acutely aware of Alan's presence in a way that he hadn't before--for example, when he leaned over Washizu's shoulder to read a document, or when his arm brushed slightly against Washizu's as he reached across the table for another document.

Washizu would never have noticed such things before, but he was once again reminded of how attractive his assistant was, and he silently and perhaps irrationally cursed Robert for reminding him of him inconvenient and inappropriate physical desires.

He could have sought companionship elsewhere if he'd wanted to. He had no time or inclination for a serious romantic relationship, but it would be easy enough to go to a bar to seek out a one night stand.

Except that he already had, for a brief period of time after President Mishima's suicide, sought to forget his guilt in alcohol or anonymous sex. The former only intensified rather than dulled the painful memories, and the latter left him feeling cold and empty.

And deep down he thought that he didn't deserve to feel any happiness or pleasure after he had taken a man's life, albeit indirectly--not even the purely physical release of sex, and certainly not romantic love.

So he had embraced the coldness and lived a monkish life of penance, focusing only on the work that might someday allow him to return to Japan and make what amends he could. Though even if he could take down the corrupt bank officials and completely revamp his country's economic policies, nothing would ever bring Mishima back to life.

That was the sin that he would have to live with.

This sudden awakening of inconvenient desires was a nuisance and a distraction. He couldn't jeopardize his future goals for the temptation of an office romance.

Then he shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts, and scoffed at himself for obsessing like a lovesick schoolboy. Alan already had a girlfriend and would not be interested in Washizu's overtures even if he was foolish enough to make them, which he wouldn't. For now, he would take a few cold showers and live with the frustration of unrequited lust, and eventually it would go away and things would return to normal.

Or so he told himself.

Alan felt a little thrill of satisfaction when Washizu reacted to those fleeting, seemingly accidental moments of physical contact, though he was careful to hide it. And a few times, out of the corner of his eye, he caught Washizu gazing at him with an odd combination of mingled desire and discomfort, though Washizu's face would always revert to its usual expressionless mask when Alan turned to look at him directly.

Washizu began distancing himself from Alan, though not overtly. He was a little more guarded during their drinking sessions, and those drinking sessions became a little less frequent.

Alan backed off and pretended not to notice, carrying on at work as if nothing had changed. And gradually Washizu relaxed, and things went back to normal between them...at least on the surface.

Privately, Alan's suspicions had been confirmed, but now he wasn't sure what to do about it. If he outright propositioned Washizu right now, he knew he would only be rejected. So he waited and bided his time while he pondered his next move.

Chapter Text

The day before Thanksgiving, Washizu returned from a meeting to find Alan alone in the office talking on his cell phone. They didn't have any urgent business at the moment, so Washizu had allowed his staff to take off early for the holiday weekend, and for once, no one but Alan had stayed behind to try to impress him with their dedication.

"I know I said I'd come home for Thanksgiving, Mom," Alan was saying. "But this is an emergency. We have a big deal that will fall through if we don't carry on negotiations through the weekend."

Washizu cleared his throat, and Alan spun around to face him with the guilty look of a child caught playing truant. It was so out of character that it was comical and a little endearing, but Washizu repressed his smile and put a stern look on his face.

"Give me the phone," he ordered.

"But sir--" Alan protested with a panicked look. In reply, Washizu glared at him coldly and held out his hand, and Alan reluctantly but meekly gave him the phone.

"Hello, Mrs. Ward," Washizu said pleasantly in English. "This is Masahiko Washizu, Alan's supervisor."

"Oh," Mrs. Ward said, sounding startled. Then politely, she added, "Thank you for looking after Alan. He's told us a lot about you."

"I'm sorry to be spoiling your holiday plans, but as Alan said, we do have a crisis here and I could really use his help," Washizu said, watching Alan's apprehension turn to open-mouthed shock. "I have a good team, but he is the most hard-working and reliable out of all my subordinates."

"That's good to hear," Mrs. Ward replied. "I know that Alan loves his job, but sometimes I think he forgets that there's a life outside of work, too."

"Well, I admit to being a workaholic myself," Washizu said. "But I promise to give Alan some time off to visit home when we're not so busy." Alan looked less than thrilled at that prospect, but he wisely said nothing.

"Thank you very much, Washizu-san," Mrs. Ward said with genuine warmth now. "That's very kind of you."

"Not at all," Washizu replied. "I'm the one who's grateful for Alan's hard work."

Mrs. Ward thanked him again and asked to speak to her son, and Washizu handed the phone back to Alan. He still looked a little stunned and spoke briefly to his mother before hanging up.

Switching back to Japanese, Alan said hesitantly, "Um...thank you for covering for me, Washizu-san."

"I don't mind playing the bad guy," Washizu replied. "But I think I'm entitled to know why you're making up stories about needing to work through the holiday."

Alan sighed. "I love my parents, but they're sort of aging hippie types. Not so much the drugs and free love part, but the peace, love, and understanding part. They don't really approve of my job. When I talk about closing a big deal, they give me these vaguely disappointed looks and talk about 'the human cost' of doing business." He added with a touch of bitterness, "Like I'm personally responsible for every worker who gets laid off, instead of the management who drove the company into debt."

Washizu nodded sympathetically. Things were tense between him and his own family. They thought that he was running away from his problems in Japan, which was to some extent true. He only occasionally called home and he hadn't yet gone back to Japan to visit them, so he wasn't in any position to judge Alan.

"They've heard the reports in the media about vulture funds?" was all Washizu said, and Alan nodded.

"I expect that from the press, but not from my own family," Alan said, shaking his head in disgust before making an effort to compose himself. "Anyway, I'm sorry to drag you into my family drama." He smiled a little. "You know, my mother was quite charmed by you, so maybe she'll go easier on me next time. She said you're not at all what she expected."

"A backhanded compliment?" Washizu asked, amused rather than offended.

"She was expecting a ruthless corporate type, but she was impressed by how considerate you are," Alan said with a grin. "She says I'm fortunate to have a boss like you."

"Remember that in the future," Washizu said with mock sternness, and Alan laughed.

"I owe you one, Washizu-san."

"I ought to make you work tomorrow so that you won't be lying to your mother," Washizu said.

"I was planning to come in, since I'm not going home for Thanksgiving after all," Alan replied, to Washizu's surprise.

"I was only joking," Washizu told him. "You don't really have to come in."

"But you're planning to work tomorrow, aren't you?"

"I haven't anything better to do, and we don't celebrate Thanksgiving in Japan, so it's not really a holiday to me," Washizu replied.

"Well, I haven't got anything better to do, either, so I might as well come in, too."

"If you insist," Washizu said. Maybe Alan wanted to curry favor to make up for being caught in that white lie, or maybe he really didn't have anything better to do on Thanksgiving. He had many casual acquaintances, but he didn't seem to have any close friends in New York.

Washizu mentally shrugged. It didn't really matter, he supposed. He could always use the extra help, and to be honest, he would welcome the company instead of being left alone to brood over the past, where his thoughts inevitably turned when he had no other distractions.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," he told Alan.

Alan found that he really didn't mind working on Thanksgiving. They had the office to themselves, for one thing, which made for a relaxed atmosphere--no meetings, no phone calls, or other interruptions. It also meant that they could speak in Japanese, which put Washizu a little more at ease, and Alan liked to think that it gave them a sense of rapport--as much as Washizu would allow, anyway. "Relaxed" for Washizu was still "uptight" or at best "reserved" for most other people, but Alan appreciated the difference even if no one else did.

They spent a quiet but productive day catching up on paperwork and researching some potential buyout targets. Finally, Washizu set aside the stack of papers he'd been working on and said, "Let's call it a day."

"It's early still," Alan said, which was true for them, although it would have been the end of a normal work day for most people.

"But you weren't supposed to be in today at all, so I think we've done enough," Washizu said, giving Alan a rare smile, one that was sincere and not put on out of politeness or to flatter a client. "Let me buy you dinner as a reward for your hard work."

"I should tell you that's not necessary, but I won't turn down a free meal," Alan replied with a grin, and Washizu chuckled just a little. He really was in a good mood today, and Alan wondered if there might be a way to turn it to his advantage and get Washizu to let down his guard further. Maybe some alcohol with dinner might help, although Alan had never seen him get even a little tipsy during their nights drinking at the izakaya.

"What do you want to eat?" Washizu asked as they left the office. "Maybe Western food for a change, to make up for the turkey dinner you missed?"

"I don't know," Alan temporized, as he considered his options. Maybe someplace unfamiliar that wouldn't remind them of work might set the mood for a professional relationship to turn more personal. "What were you planning to do if I wasn't here?"

"Oh, I was just going to eat at home," Washizu replied. "My mother sent me some soba, a souvenir from a trip she took with some friends."

"I love soba," Alan replied enthusiastically, which was only a slight exaggeration. He did like soba, along with many other Japanese foods, but he was less interested in the soba than he was in angling for an invitation. Chances were slim that Washizu would actually invite him home, but it couldn't hurt to try.

"I don't suppose..." Washizu said hesitantly. "Would you care to join me?"

He looked as though he was having second thoughts as soon as the words left his mouth, but Alan didn't give him a chance to take them back. "Thank you, I'd love to," he said immediately.

"Are you sure?" Washizu asked doubtfully. "It's just dried packaged noodles. We could go to a Japanese restaurant instead, if that's what you're in the mood for."

But Alan was not about to let this unexpected opportunity slip out of his hands. "No, the soba sounds fine, if you don't mind sharing," Alan said cheerfully.

Washizu was beginning to regret that sudden impulse to invite Alan over. He wasn't sure what had come over him, other than that he was feeling a little indulgent towards his favorite subordinate. And maybe just a little tired of being alone, especially at a time when everyone else was with their family and friends. Alan was not exactly a friend, but he was the closest thing that Washizu had to one in New York.

In any case, it was too late to take back that hasty offer without being rude. So he hid his doubts and said, "All right, if that's what you want."

It occurred to him that Robert, Eric, and Caroline would probably have chosen dinner at an expensive restaurant, but maybe Alan preferred the privilege of being singled out for an invitation to the boss's home. Nothing untoward would happen, Washizu reassured himself, other than allowing Alan to feel a little superior to his colleagues, which seemed harmless enough.

So they caught a taxi to his apartment and ate soba while carrying on the same sort of comfortable small talk that they would at the izakaya. Because of the soba, the conversation drifted away from work to regional specialities and the places that Alan had visited in Japan, which were mostly confined to the Tokyo area and a couple of trips to Kyoto.

Washizu encouraged him with a few leading questions, because as long as Alan was talking, he wasn't obliged to talk about his own past, although by now Alan was too circumspect to pry. Still, the conversation easily have led to casual questions about where he'd grown up and what his family was like, which were harmless enough and not really a secret, but Washizu preferred to think about his life back in Japan as little as possible.

Although his dreams at night were still haunted by Mishima's death and Yuka's accusations of murder...

But he pushed those dark thoughts aside for now and focused on what Alan was saying. Alan was always polite and respectful, at least to Washizu, but he was just a little vain, which Washizu mostly found amusing. Right now, it meant that he was happy enough to talk about myself, as long as it was clear that Washizu didn't mind him monopolizing the conversation.

"Being a literature professor, my father wanted to drag us to just about every shrine in Kyoto," Alan was saying. "I admit, I was too young to appreciate it, and after the first two or three, I was bored out of my mind," he added with a self-deprecating laugh. "But I did love historical dramas, so I was thrilled when we went to visit the Toei Kyoto Studio Park."

Washizu smiled. "I'm sure sword fights and ninja are much more interesting to a teenage boy than shrines and temples."

By now they'd finished the soba, but Alan didn't seem to be in a rush to leave, and despite his earlier misgivings, Washizu wasn't really eager to see him go. It was nice to pass a pleasant evening for a change, having dinner with an almost-friend and not having to think about anything more important than food and travel anecdotes.

So he opened an expensive bottle of sake that a client had given him as a gift, and they had a few drinks while they talked about Alan's favorite dramas and movies, a few of which Washizu had actually seen.

"I also like detective shows," Alan said, naming a few.

"You never wanted to go into police work instead of finance?" Washizu joked.

"There's no profit in it," Alan quipped back.

It turned out that one of his favorite shows was playing on a Japanese language cable station, so they took their drinks and moved over to the couch to watch it. Washizu only half paid attention to the plot, but he felt more relaxed than he had in a long time as he sipped at his drink. Maybe he really had needed a break from work.

He turned to ask if Alan wanted a refill on his drink, and suddenly noticed that Alan had moved much closer and was sitting only inches away from him. Close enough to kiss if he leaned forward just a little...

Washizu immediately jerked back and asked, "Alan?" He tried for a neutral tone, but heard his voice coming out sharp and a little panicked. "What are you doing?"

Smiling seductively, Alan said, "Something I've been wanting to do for a long time now."

Washizu tried to move back as Alan leaned forward, but found his retreat temporarily halted by the armrest of the couch. Before he had time to do anything else, Alan closed the distance between them and sealed his mouth against Washizu's.

Any thoughts about how inappropriate this situation was--in fact, any rational thought at all--completely vanished from Washizu's mind as a searing rush of desire swept over him.

They were kissing each other hungrily, his tongue entwined with Alan's before he knew what was happening. Ties were discarded and shirts unbuttoned as their hands explored each other's bodies, and Washizu finally came to his senses when he felt Alan's bare skin beneath his hands, and felt Alan's hands on him.

It took a great effort to pull back, but he did, saying, "Wait, we can't do this."

"Why not?" Alan murmured, leaning in to kiss him again, but Washizu pushed him away.

"It's completely inappropriate," Washizu said, although his response didn't sound as firm as it should have when his voice was still hoarse with lust. "You're my subordinate."

"Oh?" Alan asked archly, looking way too tempting with his face flushed and hair disheveled and shirt halfway open. "You're the one who invited me to your home. Didn't you want this to happen?"

I knew this was going to be a mistake, Washizu thought, cursing himself for not following his first instinct and rescinding the invitation. "I thought you had a girlfriend," he protested.

"Mari?" Alan laughed. "She's just a friend who agreed to help me out to keep Robert or anyone else at Horizon from gossiping about me and getting the wrong idea. Or as the case may be, from getting the right idea."

Washizu cursed himself again for being so easily fooled into letting his guard down, and while he was preoccupied, Alan managed to succeed in planting another kiss on him. Washizu's body responded before his common sense did, and it took longer than it should have for him to push Alan away a second time.

"Enough," he said harshly, although his anger was directed more at himself than at Alan.

"Don't you want me?" Alan asked, with a look on his face that said he knew quite well that Washizu did.

"Of course I do," Washizu snapped, taking Alan by surprise, since he'd clearly expected more false denials and weak protests. "But it's not always wise to do something just because you want to. You are a very attractive young man, Alan, but I don't intend to ruin my career over you."

"Then let me make things clear, too," Alan said, his demeanor suddenly changing from flirtatious to serious. "I don't expect any special treatment at work. I know you better than to think you'd promote someone in exchange for sex. There's no reason why we can't keep our personal and professional lives separate."

He argued persuasively and aggressively, not unlike the tactics they often used in business negotiations, Washizu noted with a touch of ironic humor. He might have taught his protégé too well. "And if things go sour between us?" he asked.

"I'd never use it against you," Alan promised. Perhaps anticipating Washizu's skepticism, he added, "And besides, even if I did try to file a sexual harassment complaint, it would make me look worse than you, like I was your boy toy trying to sleep my way to the top."

He had a point, Washizu acknowledged, which wasn't making this any easier for him. "I'm not interested in a serious relationship."

"Neither am I," Alan immediately responded. "I'm not looking for marriage, or for someone to send me flowers and candy."

"If it's just about sex, then why me?" Washizu asked. "You could have anyone you wanted."

A wide smile spread across Alan's face at Washizu's unintended compliment. "That's very flattering," he purred, resting a hand on Washizu's chest. "But it's you that I want. I find you attractive. I find the way you do business...exciting." He laughed a little at the look of surprise on Washizu's face. "Besides, we get along, don't we? It would be like friends with benefits. Well, not friends exactly, but you know what I mean."

Washizu found himself growing angry again, with himself for being swayed by Alan's words, and at Alan for disrupting the fragile equilibrium he'd fought to achieve after coming to America.

"This is not a game," he snarled.

"I'm not playing," Alan protested.

"You're like a child playing at a game you don't understand," Washizu retorted. "Forget about my reputation--what about your own? I could ruin you if I wanted to. Or I could force you to keep sleeping with me even if you got tired of me."

"You wouldn't do that," Alan replied simply, and with complete confidence. And he was right; Washizu was only bluffing, but suddenly it infuriated him to have someone believe in his sense of honor when he thought he had left the naive, idealistic young Washizu of the past behind.

"You don't know me at all, Alan," Washizu said angrily. "And you are in way over your head--be careful what you wish for."

Alan let out a startled yelp as Washizu pushed him down on the couch, pinning his arms above his head with a grip hard enough to leave bruises. He'd meant to intimidate Alan and throw a figurative cold splash of water on his libido, but Washizu was the one who should have been careful because it had the opposite effect.

Alan moaned, his eyes filled with lust instead of fear, and his body arched up against Washizu. There was no mistaking his arousal, and Washizu felt his own arousal rising in response.

He swore at loud at his own stupidity--what had he been thinking? Though it was more like he hadn't been thinking at all this evening, starting with inviting Alan over for dinner.

Alan looked up at him and urgently whispered, "Please," with a look of complete surrender in his eyes that was intoxicating. It crossed Washizu's mind that maybe he ought to teach Alan a lesson and make him regret his recklessness, but then again, his first attempt had already backfired spectacularly.

And the truth was that he didn't really want to resist. He was tired of his monkish existence, and all the desires he had repressed came rushing to the surface. It had been so long since he had touched anyone...but this wasn't like those half-hearted encounters at the gay bars, or the few discreet relationships he'd had back in Japan. Maybe it was only a momentary insanity, but right now he wanted Alan desperately, more than he'd ever wanted anything...except for redemption.

He couldn't have redemption, but at least he could have this. And with that thought, Washizu finally gave in. He stopped resisting and felt both himself and Alan growing harder as their hips moved against each other, and Alan let out another eager moan that was quickly muffled by Washizu's lips and tongue.

Things rapidly grew heated and they went to the bedroom, fumbling a bit as they undressed each other and carelessly discarded their clothes on the floor. Washizu rummaged in the nightstand drawer for lube and condoms, except that he didn't have any of the latter, since he hadn't slept with anyone for almost two years.

But Alan reached down for his clothes on the floor and produced a condom that had been tucked inside his wallet. For a moment, Washizu wondered if he had planned the whole thing in advance, but there was no way he could have predicted that Washizu would impulsively invite him over for soba.

And anyway, they were well past the point of no return and Washizu didn't really care right now if he'd been manipulated, though he might well regret it later. But he would deal with "later" when it happened.

He pinned Alan down on the bed, more gently this time, and murmured in his ear, "What would you like?"

"For you to do me," Alan said bluntly and without any shame, startling a laugh from Washizu.

"Tell me you did not learn that in middle or high school Japanese lessons!"

Alan feigned a demure smile that was incongruous with his nudity and arousal. "I may have picked up a little slang during my university exchange program," he said sweetly. "Though if you want to imagine me as a schoolboy..."

"You are incorrigible," Washizu said, and silenced him with a kiss. He poured some lube onto his fingers and eased two of them into Alan, listening with satisfaction to the little gasps and moans the other man made as Washizu prepared him. Somehow he felt better knowing that he wasn't the only one losing control.

"Please...please," Alan moaned, and Washizu would have liked to make him beg a little more as punishment for everything that he had put Washizu through tonight, but he really was on the verge of losing control right now and he couldn't wait any longer.

He pushed Alan's legs apart and thrust into him harder than he'd intended, but Alan cried out with pleasure, obviously not minding the rough treatment. And with that, Washizu finally came undone, forgetting about self-control and self-sacrifice and all the carefully laden plans that could so easily be ruined by tonight's actions. He gave into desire, drowning himself in Alan's willing body until they both cried out with release. Almost immediately after, he fell into a deep, dreamless slumber before he had a chance to regret what he'd done.

Washizu woke up the next morning, feeling better rested than he had in years...until he felt the unfamiliar weight and warmth of a body lying in bed beside him.

"What the hell have I done?" he muttered, not very loudly, but apparently loud enough to wake his companion.

"Good morning," Alan said, yawning. Despite--or perhaps because of--his tousled hair and eyes half-lidded with sleepiness, he looked irresistible enough to make Washizu want to forget reason and repeat last night all over again.

"You and I need to talk," Washizu said, attempting to sound stern, which was difficult to do when you were naked in bed with the subordinate you had spent the night with.

"Yes, sir," Alan said, with a lazy, slightly insolent smile.

"I'm serious," Washizu said. "Last night--"

"Please don't tell me that it was a mistake," Alan said. "I meant what I said, that I won't cause trouble for you and it won't change things at work. You can't tell me that you didn't enjoy last night."

"That would be a lie," Washizu admitted, then reminded himself of why he'd come to America in the first place. "But I have goals I mean to achieve," he said, his voice turning firmer and colder now. "And I won't let anyone stand in my way, not even you."

"Why would I want to do that?" Alan asked. "Your goals are my goals. As your subordinate, I'm only successful if you are."

But Washizu's goals were different than Alan's, although Alan didn't know that, and he probably wouldn't understand why Washizu was so tormented by Mishima's suicide. He would probably say, as Shibano had, that Washizu had only been doing his job and it wasn't his fault.

And then Washizu was suddenly struck by the realization that last night was the first time since the funeral that he hadn't dreamed of Mishima's suicide. He had become so used to the nightmares that they had become noticeable only in their absence.

"Washizu-san?" Alan asked, looking confused and concerned.

"Get dressed," Washizu ordered. "I'll make some coffee and we'll talk about this."

"Yes, sir," Alan said meekly, though he no doubt intended to argue his case for continuing a "with benefits" relationship. But that was all right, because Washizu had already decided to give in, although he would negotiate some ground rules with Alan first.

What had swayed him was not Alan's considerable charms or his persuasive arguments--it was the allure of even a brief, temporary forgetfulness from his ever-present guilt. It might be cowardly of him to try to escape from it, but then again, he'd already proven himself a coward by running away from Japan to America.

Alan got out of bed and picked his clothes up off the floor with deliberate slowness. He smiled as he caught Washizu's gaze tracking his movements, and sauntered out towards the bathroom, still unselfconsciously nude.

Washizu smiled and shook his head, a little ruefully. This might be a mistake, but as they liked to say at Horizon, you couldn't make a profit without taking a risk sometimes.

Whatever it was that they had together, it wasn't love, but Washizu thought it was better that way. Alan was ambitious and driven, and someday their goals might clash, or Alan would be promoted to head a team of his own. Or he might simply get bored and want to move on to another lover, and Washizu wouldn't protest if and when that happened. As long as there were no messy emotional entanglements, no one needed to feel hurt or betrayed on the inevitable day that they parted ways.

And Washizu would not have to betray someone that he cared about, who cared about him, as he had with the Mishima family. If someday their careers diverged on different paths, or even came into conflict with each other, Alan was much too practical and ruthless to fall into broken-hearted despair.

Yes, Washizu decided, a relationship of convenience was best. A mutual exchange that met each other's needs for sex and companionship, like a business agreement that could be dissolved when it was no longer needed.

It might not be love, but it would be enough for him.

At least, that was Washizu told himself as he got out of bed and prepared to face Alan over coffee.