A Proud Furosha

A PROUD FUROSHA By Andrej Koymasky © 2010 Written on July 1, 2002 Translated by the Author English text kindly revised by

USUAL DISCLAIMER

"A PROUD FUROSHA" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family, opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed guest.

Chapter 5 - A repented rescuer

The first thing I saw was a diffused faint green light. I then saw a wooden pole with a small black cushion on its top and understood where I was. Alarmed, I was confusedly asking myself if it was just a nightmare or if I had fallen again in the web (but how?). I tried to sit up.

A hand made me fall back down, lightly but with a sufficient strength, pushing on my chest and preventing me from sitting up. I tried to raise my head and look, but it seemed heavy like a boulder. A raucous voice, that I only later understood was mine, resounded oddly at my ears.

"What the heckÉ"

"Stay down, don't moveÉ" another voice said, low and warm, out-of-frame, that I recognised at once.

"What the heckÉ" I repeated with a voice that this time I recognised as mine.

"Don't move, you have a feverÉ" the voice told me and the face of Saburo appeared, with a worried expression, in my visual field.

I saw that he was applying a small wet towel to my forehead. The man was looking at me, attentive and serious.

"You raped me again!" I accused him with a hint of voice, feeling even more despairing than before.

"No!" the young man said in a calm tone, shaking his head, "NoÉ You have a feverÉ I brought you here to my placeÉ but I didn't touch you."

"Bullshit." I answered.

I was not even feeling angry - I didn't have enough energy to be so. Then a weird thought peeped in my mind. There was something that didn't fit, but what? With difficulty, I tried to catch that evanescing thought and to focus it, and finally I managed to do it.

"How can your tent still be standing?"

Saburo seemed surprised by that question, then shook his head, "I have a small radio, heard the typhoon was coming, dismounted everything and put it in a safe place. Then, after the typhoon passed, I mounted it again."

"Where did you put everything? In the vault of your bank?" I asked him, sarcastic, "Or in the safe of your villa?"

"In the toilets of the park."

My brain resumed the thread of my first problem. "But I was not in the park toiletsÉ how come I am here?"

"Don't talk, you have to recoverÉ" Saburo said in a caring, almost kind tone.

"So you can fuck me again? Wouldn't it be easier for you to take advantage of me now?"

"No, I will not touch you, don't worry. You have a feverÉ"

"If I have a fever I'm hotter, am I not? You would enjoy me more if you fuck me now, wouldn't you?" I told him with a low but hard voice.

"I told you I would not touch at you. I give you my word."

"Your wordÉ" I commented, "How did you find me?"

"I was passing thereÉ I saw youÉ I recognised youÉ"

"You were passing there? All your belongings in the toilets and you were passing thereÉ and if somebody stole it all?" I asked, unbelieving.

"You are too weak to care about such matters, now. Try to recover, to get some rest. Here you are safeÉ"

"With you? Safe?"

"I told you I will not touch youÉ" he repeated in the patient tone that one uses with a child, or an old man in his dotage, or somebody who is slow-witted.

He disappeared from my view. I heard him bustle about, then pour something in a cup. He came again near me and raised my head.

"Take this pill and drink."

"What's it?"

"I went to the pharmacist, it will make your fever go away."

"Ah. Should I thank you?" I asked, surly.

"No, you just have to swallow it. You have to recover."

"What is it, are you a doctor?" I asked him with renewed sarcasm.

"Yes, I'm a doctorÉ"

"Ha-ha-haÉ and I'm the son of the Emperor!"

"Take this pill. You have to recover."

"Wouldn't it be better that I die?" I answered with a tired voice.

"No, it would not be better."

"Why?"

"Because it would not be better. Take this pill."

I had to acknowledge he was a stubborn guy. And I didn't feel strong enough to continue to fight him. Therefore I let him put the pill in my mouth, bring the cup to my lips and I drank enough to gulp down the drug. He gently let my head drop down on the pillow, then tucked the blanket around my shoulders.

"It's hotÉ" I complained.

"You have to sweat, it helps you."

"Yes, doctor, my foot!" I said and closed my eyes.

I don't know how many times I fell asleep, or lost consciousness and was wake again. Each time Saburo was there, ready to give me a pill or to feed me. The weakness seemed not to leave me. When I woke up, or recovered my senses, we were almost not talking.

Then all of a sudden I felt better. Not healed, not totally recovered, but better. And for the first time I was able to sit up. Saburo was always there and he was always looking at me.

"For how long have I been here at your place?" I asked him.

"Five daysÉ" he said.

"How did you find me?"

"One of usÉ he felt you burned and trembled like a leave in the windÉ and he came to call meÉ"

"Because you are a doctor!" I said ironically.

"Because I am a doctor." he quietly confirmed.

"And then?" I asked.

"And as the typhoon ended, I brought you here."

"You alone?"

"I'm strong."

"And how many times did you fuck me, in these five days?"

"Not even once."

"I don't believe you."

"Check down thereÉ you can so understand, can't you?"

I didn't touch me, but I said, "I don't believe you. If you did it onceÉ why not again?"

"I shouldn't have even that time." he said in a low voice.

"But you did it."

"Yes, I did it."

"And why did you do it?"

"I shouldn't have."

"Why did you do it?" I repeated.

"Because you are handsome, because you were naked, because it had been four years since I had touched a boy. But I shouldn't have done it."

"You mean you are gay?" I asked him, as I didn't know whether he fucked me because he liked boys or just because he knew he could not have a woman.

"Of course."

"What's that, all we furosha are gay? Or all the gay become furosha?"

"You too are gay?" he said but it was an assessment more than a question.

"What's that, are you surprised?"

"No, I just didn't know."

"But you raped me all the same."

"RapedÉ"

"Sure. You didn't seduce me, did you?"

"You are too beautifulÉ I lost my head. You were nakedÉ"

"And what of that?"

"Nothing. I did wrong."

I looked at him. In his eyes there really was a regretful expression. Either he was a good actor, or he was sincere. But I was not ready to forgive himÉ even though he was now healing me. He should not have done it.

"AndÉ you resemble Seichiro so muchÉ"

"Who's he?"

"He was my boyfriend."

"He was? Is he dead?"

"No. He just turned his back on me."

"Why? Did you rape him too?"

"No. It's because at times cowardice is stronger than love."

"What do you mean?"

"Does it interest you?"

"Just to kill the time." I answered, somewhat dryly.

"So, thenÉ This is my storyÉ" he said and started to tell me.

He was really a doctor. He knew since he was a boy he was gay, he had had also some few adventures with a couple of boys, with a university mate and a neighbour boy. After he graduated one of his professors, the head physician of the university internal medicine clinic, took him to work with him. So a brilliant career was opening up in front of him, and he was happy. He worked with passion, and his teacher was really happy with him.

So happy that, as he had only a daughter and no sons, proposed to him to marry his daughter and to adopt him, giving him his name and promising to leave him, one day, his private clinic. Saburo, although he knew he was gay, thought he couldn't let such a good opportunity escape and, also encouraged by his family, accepted. So the marriage was celebrated and the professor adopted him, giving him his name.

All seemed to go on well, he was able to carry on his husband's duties with his wife, and worked with a will in the professor's clinic. A year elapsed. The professor's villa in Setagaya, where he lived with his wife, bordered with the villa of a famous architect, who had a twenty years old son, Seichiro, who was studying architecture at the Todai. They became friends, as also the architect was a good friend of the professor. They met often. And Saburo felt increasingly attracted by Seichiro.

Until one day, while they were alone at the side of the pool at his father's villa after a swim, Seichiro embraced and kissed him, telling him he was aware that Saburo liked him, and told Saburo he was in love with him. Saburo didn't deny his interest, he was rather happy for that unhoped-for declaration, and returned the kiss. Soon they were united on the lawn at the side of the pool, and Saburo took Seichiro, who offered himself to his neighbour with real pleasure and passion.

So their relationship started, and Saburo also fell in love with Seichiro. But often when one falls in love he becomes imprudent. So one day, while Saburo was making love with Seichiro and was taking him in his room, the architect, contrary to his usual habit, returned home and caught them in full action.

Seichiro's father chased Saburo out of his house and confronted his son who, to get out of trouble, told his father that Saburo had forced him to have sex. His father believed or pretended to believe his son, and went to tell to his friend and neighbour, the professor, what he had discovered, forbidding Saburo from ever again setting foot in his villa or simply meeting his son.

He said all this in the presence of Saburo's wifeÉ so, father and daughter decided that Saburo had to divorce and leave their house. They also informed Saburo's family, so that, when he showed at his parent's house, his family also shut the door in his face, telling him he had dishonoured them, and that they didn't want anything more to do with him.

So Saburo was without a house and a job, exactly like me. But, differently than me, he foresaw the possibility it could happen something like that, therefore he left his house with enough money and, not to end up like me, he bought the plastic sheets and other furnishings and made the tent where I was now.

He also bought a hand-cart, with which he gathered paper and cardboard that he then sold to a recycling firm. He led a poor life, but he never suffered from hunger. He managed to maintain a certain dignity and pride. He could even save some money and possibly one day he could have a house again. But all summed up, he came to like that kind of life, free from everything and everybody. Moreover he started to treat the furosha he knew, to the limit of his abilities, so he was well known and respected by the tramps of half of Tokyo.

"None of them would come and rob me. Also in our group of furosha, of disinherited tramps, there is a moral code that we all respectÉ or almost all of us. So, when they saw you were ill, they came to call me. I had just mounted my tent again, so went to see. And when I recognised you, I brought you here."

"You are therefore an authorityÉ at least amongst us furoshaÉ" I commented.

"You can say so, I think I am. And yet I feel terribly lonelyÉ I think I am the only furosha with a university degree, do you see, therefore no-one wants to stay with meÉ I don't say only sexually, but even just to share our solitudeÉ The furosha are for the most part solitary people, but at times they unite in twos, rarely in threesÉ but only when they are from the same social level, when they have a common backgroundÉ Everybody respects me, they call me senseiÉ but none of them would live with meÉ"

"But youÉ why didn't say that Seichiro was a liar, that he was a coward, that it had been him who wanted to start your relationship?"

"What would it have been for? They would not believe me. They had already decided that I was the pervert. Because I am older than himÉ the younger one is always the victim isn't he? It's always the fault of the olderÉ who manipulates the youngerÉ By the wayÉ you too, how can you believe me, after what I did to you? Aren't you thinking I did the same with Siechiro?" he asked me, looking into my eyes.

"If you behaved with him as you did with me, you would not have told me this story. You are clever enough to understand I could have thought as you say."

"AnywayÉ it doesn't justify what I did with you."

"Yes, it doesn't justify it."

"But this time I didn't touch you."

"It could be." I answered, this time starting to believe him.

He looked in my eyes but said nothing.

"You said you were wrongÉ but you didn't tell me you repented. You didn't ask me for forgiveness."

"Asking forgiveness doesn't make one forgiven." he said quoting an ancient proverb.

"Are you too proud to ask for forgiveness?" I then asked him.

"Proud? If I still had some pride, I lost it a long time ago. If you want, I ask you to forgive me"

"I don't care, do as you like. It doesn't change much."

"But you made me notice I didn't apologise, I didn't tell you I repented."

"Because it is so. But I don't care."

"If it makes you feel betterÉ I ask you to forgive me. I am sorry for what I did you, for how I took advantage of you."

"I don't care." I repeated, but with more gentleness.

Saburo stood up and went to bustle about at the gas cooker. I looked at him from behind - he had a body with perfect proportions. So perfect as to be sexy. His face was agreeable, despite that he was eternally serious. It was the classic serious face of a professional at work, of the clerk at his desk. I would have liked seeing him wearing a grey or blue suitÉ or with the white doctor's coatÉ He was instead wearing a cotton shirt with a tartan pattern in light blue and green and jeans still in good shape.

He moved in front of the cooker with sparing and measured moves. It was clear he was in his reign, in his element. He was the most distinguished tramp I ever met. I then saw my clothes carefully folded on top of a cardboard box. He must have washed them.

He turned to look at me for a moment, "I hope you like ramen with pork."

"I don't have food problems, from the French kitchen to the Kaiseki (Japanese high cuisine - ed.), from Udon to Spring rolls, from pizza to hamburgersÉ I eat all that is edible."

"Also natto? (strong-flavored fermented soybeans, an Òacquired tasteÓ - ed.)" he asked me rather unbelieving.

"The natto they sell in the department storesÉ I can eat it but I'm not so fond of it. But that made by the farmersÉ I really like it."

"I totally agree." he answered and devoted himself again to the cooker.

"You didn't ask me anything about meÉ" I said at a certain point, I don't know why.

Possibly because now that he told me, although in a summary, his life story, his vicissitudes, was I compelled to do the same? Possibly because now that I was starting to know him a little more, to be a little less angry with him, I wanted him to know me a little?

"We never ask each other about our past, amongst us furosha. We are people living day by day, people that don't know if we will still be alive tomorrowÉ The past doesn't count any more, doesn't exist any more. The future doesn't exist."

"Yes, it's true. At times I thought so too. If I think about my past, I feel like I'm thinking of another person, not of myself."

"Exactly so."

"And yetÉ do you miss Seichiro?"

"No. To the contraryÉ Only when I saw you did I seriously recall him."

"Do I resemble him so much?"

"Your face, yes. Your body less. And even less your character, for the little I know you."

"I will possibly one day tell you about me. Not now." I told him.

"If you wantÉ when you wantÉ and only what you want." he said without turning to look at me.

"Of course." I answered.

He put a low box near the futon so that we could use it as a table and I didn't have to stand up. In fact I was still feeling weak. We started to eat - it was not bad at all, he was a good cook.

While we were eating, I got a doubt, "Where did you sleep, these past nights?"

"Here on the floor, on the winter cover folded in two."

"Weren't you uncomfortable?" I asked him, hesitantly.

"Not so much."

"Your futonÉ not even a two-person oneÉ could be wide enough for two people."

"Do you trust me?" he asked looking into my eyes.

"No. But that changes nothing."

"It changes, yes."

"Why?"

"Don't you understand? Being too close to youÉ I am not a monk."

"Also the monks fucked their novices, you didn't choose a good example." I said somewhat slyly.

"You understood what I meant." he cut short.

I wanted to ask him if he was so easily aroused being close to me, but I didn't, as I already knew the answer - yes!

"Are you doing it to be forgiven?" I asked him after some time.

"What?"

"Everything."

"Possibly. Or perhaps only because I ran up a debt with you."

"A debtÉ" I echoed, somewhat astounded.

He didn't explain to me what he exactly meant, but I possibly understood it all the same. It was a way to apologise to me, more effective than just saying, "forgive me".

But I, did I forgive him? Not yet, honestly. And yet I desired to forgive himÉ or to better say, restart everything from the beginning. To a furosha, the past doesn't exist any moreÉ just what importance is his life before becoming a tramp, or even any past?

"To eatÉ I even sold myself." I said, at a certain point.

"Sold?" he asked slightly amazed.

"Yes, my bodyÉ for sexÉ" I said in a low voice, almost as if telling it aloud would make it be more blameworthy.

"One should never be forced to thatÉ" he said, with an even more low voice.

"But at least they paid me." I said in a reproachful tone.

He nodded, without looking at me. He perfectly understood what I wanted to tell him with these words, and he accepted it. He was smart. And possibly also sensitive.

"Now lie down, you should not get tired." he said when we finished eating.

"Yes, mister doctor." I said with a hint of irony.

"I want you to heal soon."

"At least I will go away."

"As you want."

"And if instead I remained?" I asked him, not because I desired it, I didn't yet know, but just to see how he reacted.

"As you want." he repeated in the same tone.

"But at least, was Seichiro skilled at making love?" I asked him at one point.

"Don't tease me." he answered back, but without harshness.

I didn't know if the fact that I resembled Seichiro pleased or annoyed me. Well, no, it annoyed me. First of all, possibly, because if I didn't resemble him so much, Saburo would have not jumped on meÉ possibly. And then also for the way that boy ditched him, threw all the blame on him just to save himself. No, undoubtedly I didn't like at all to resemble him, even if just for the face and not for my body and my character, as Saburo told me.

Seichiro the son of a famous architectÉ who knows who that famous architect was? But then, who knows why Seichiro was continuing to come to my mind? A person so unworthy of any respect. And yet I was not able to not think of him. Possibly because he reminded me, even though just a little, of the way Toshio behaved with me? Also Toshio turned his back on me, even though without lying like Seichiro.

"Let me have your news, once in a while." he told me when we met the last time.

But I really didn't feel like doing it. If I asked him for money, he would possibly give me some. But from him I expected something else, I was not interested in his money. He denied me something much more important, thereforeÉ no, I would never look for him again.

I was possibly too proud, I told myself. But what remains to a furosha if he loses also his pride?

And yet Saburo told me, "If I still had some pride, I lost it a long time ago." and he seemed not to regret it at all.

"If you lost your pride," I then asked him, "what remains to you?"

He understood what I was referring to; "Dignity." he simply answered.

CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 6

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