Daichi had put such thoughts from his mind whenever they arose in him; that the house had become a burden; that it was far too big for him, even if its location on the outskirts of Kyoto left him and his family, or visitors, in an enviable location. They could soon be in the surrounding countryside and away from the traffic fumes, the noise, and the crowds; the mayhem of the city that passed for life these days.
Apart from its size, the house was now overlooked by a garishly designed apartment building that cast a shadow over the garden at certain times of the day. It lessened the pleasure to be found from the early morning sunlight and its bulk made him feel closed in, It also aroused a sense of being oppressed by the sheer pressure of humanity that the quiet of the property's carefully appointed, and sound-roofed, interior sought to dispel, the heavy scent of candles often to be sensed on the air.
Daichi had considered the idea that he move out and into a smaller place, but he had resisted all suggestions that he do so, even those of concerned friends who said that a care home was the place for him to be. There, he could cut loose from the draining effects of living by himself.
But the solution to his troubles was only too simple.
He would concede to the pressure, to the drip-drip of his son, Jomei's request that he move in, along with his pretty young wife, so that in time they could bring up their own family there. He would be taken care of in only too familiar surroundings that continued to stir his memories of his younger days.
But, in that lay a problem, for his son's pretty young wife, Aiki, had failed to conceive and, so, he had not felt the urgency to concede to any request that he move out or that they should move in with him.
But the day finally dawned when he had done so and had chosen to admit that company, the sounds of other voices and laughter, would bring the house back to vibrant life. A start in that process, or changed ways of living, had to be made.
He had always taken care of himself since his wife died some ten years ago, and long before they could have enjoyed his retirement together. He wasn't lost for the company of others. Being a member of a local tennis club, with its hot baths and games rooms, brought him associations with men and women alike. With that social life came the occasional uncomplicated trysts with favored 'younger' women, they meeting his needs. There were nights when he'd woken and known that the only cure was to sleep with a few favored women, no more than three, and in an only too accommodating rota as far as he was concerned.
Seducing the women took time, but once they had conceded to the idea that conventional behavior was to be consigned to the past and a different future beckoned, they agreed. He'd become uncommonly pleased that they, like him, believed that some rules could now be broken.
Daichi was the perfect and discreet lover of them all, yet he made studious efforts not to be seen in their company when another might be met. He was a distraction for them, and they met his raging physical needs, even loved his passionate and selfish ways of it when in their beds, or on the mats of their small apartment's day room.
He was still in good shape for a man of sixty-five, his full head of closely cropped greying hair lending his slender body's appearance that of a man not eager to concede, too easily, to the ravages of the passing years. He shaved and bathed every day; he ate sparingly, and he exercised regularly. So, it was pleasing to often hear that he defied the ravages of aging.
No, a care home was not to be the answer but Aiki, with her caring ways and soft tread of her dainty feet, would be an ever-present guardian; a dutiful carer and respectful companion, when she was not at work in the very care home that Jomei had tried to persuade him to go to.
The pretty young woman was strong in her opinions, not deferential to him. That did not mean any lack of respect. Aiki had chosen for them to live as equals as far as Japanese customs and society allowed to prevail between elders and the younger members of a family.
'What's the point of me hiding away in some care home?' he would argue with both of them, but with his son in particular, and whenever the subject of him selling up had been raised. He had finally put those moments of discord between them 'to bed'.
His other children, a son, and daughter lived far away and rarely visited. So, he loved to have their youthful company and felt that it would only serve to keep him young too. He could also look at the winsome figure and soft smiles of Aiki; take to wondering how such a lovely young creature could not bring to Jomei what she so clearly sought; a son or daughter.
It perplexed him. It also engaged his attention on Aiki more and more, wrong as it was to do that; destructive even, that he should discover moments, when alone with her in the house, that he lusted after her and would take to wondering what filled the discreet blouses that she wore; a fastening at her throat and their hems sometimes riding up over her slacks to reveal a slender hipped body and the gentle swell of her tummy. He did not miss how her firm breasts pushed at the fabric of Aiki's blouses, nor the hint of nipples to be found there.
The sight of the young woman plagued him and relief for his longing was not always to be quickly found.
Days would pass when he had to be away and out of the house, there to seek the attention of one of his lady friends and to claim them; to hear their strident calls for more from him as he found them. His unsatisfied longing for someone else reached him in drugging waves, the snuffing out of the flare of yearning for someone so much younger; someone whom others would regard as a delicious but forbidden fruit.
Aiki was a delight that should never be tasted, least of all by him, a father-in-law; a man of some means and with an unblemished reputation to maintain, somehow. To be in her company and know that she was living under his roof would have to be enough
♥
'You don't have to help me with this work,' he told her, as Aiki sought him in a favorite corner of the garden that he cherished. 'I don't help with the cooking or much of the housework. I know that I should.'
'No, you don't have to do any of that,' Aiki laughed softly, brushing away stray strands of black silken hair from her face, a soft smile on her lightly glossed pink lips. She loved these easy-going ways between them and the attention that he paid to her. It confounded tradition that so many of her friends were known to follow. 'We each have our parts to play in our lives together here,'
'You won't even let me do my laundry. We do not have any secrets now...'
'Should we have those, secrets?' she asked, not looking at him.
Aiki clutched a broom and swept the path purposefully, making sure the debris did not go back into the beds that he had so carefully tended, their graveled surfaces raked over and smoothed and the lines from the rake's tines, which he used, marked out clearly upon them. Neatly clipped, stunted trees dotted the surface and a small shrine stood in a shaded corner. Listen carefully, and the soft tinkling of tubes was to be heard on the breeze.
'No, I guess not,' he told her. Daichi moved to stand by Aiki's side. 'I hope...I hope that you do not feel obliged to me and to make me a grandfather. Such concern makes it no easier for you,' he said gently. 'You must let time and nature take their course. Try not to be anxious...'
'No, I do not feel that feel any pressure, but something is missing. I...I,' she began hesitantly, 'I have friends, as Jomei does, who would do anything to bear a child, anything.' It was the first time she had confided in him on a matter of some delicacy. It was something that Jomei should never get to hear of or be told.
