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Here's something about me: In my last year in elementary school, I ran my school’s annual marathon and came in first by a full fifteen seconds. This was before Jyushimatsu morphed into his freakishly athletic self post-puberty, so the whole gamut really was all resting on my little shoulders. The prize was big fat ham, which my family really needed around that time because that month there'd been some “unforeseen expenses” and we were already just scraping along with benefits- eating a lot of instant noodles and bathing with cold water. I didn't figure that out all on my own either, my parents just yelled about it a lot and sometimes I picked it up with my little kid’s killer eavesdropping skills. All my brothers did, and we were all as scared as my folks were even if we didn't entirely understand what was going on.
Anyway, when I got home after school all proud and mannish with the slab of meat like a baby in my arms; mama saw my prize and grabbed me and hugged me with my head over her shoulder so I wouldn't see her crying right there on the front stoop. My dad gave me one of those stern fatherly pats on the back, too, and my brothers rallied around me to cheer me as the world's greatest big brother. To that whole house, I was practically a hero that day. I felt like God, with my mom telling me how I was the best son anyone could ask for and everybody else confirming that statement. I hadn't done much, but it was the fact that I’d worked hard and provided for the family that did it. It felt amazing, it really did.
I'm only mentioning this because that was the same week Tougou came to stay with our family, and when my mom mentioned that the ham were having for dinner was there thanks to me; he challenged me to a race in the front yard, and he let me win.
When we were out driving in the country one night early on –maybe a week or two in– Tougou –without warning– pulled over onto the side of the road, and just sat there for a while with his hands on the wheel. He didn't mention an issue with the engine, there was plenty of gas in the tank; he just pulled off to the outside lane and put the car in park. I only remember snippets of the ride before that point because so little actually happened pre-stall, but maybe two hours in and 100 or so miles outside Tokyo proper is when everything really comes into focus.
It was raining outside, which was seriously messing with the visibility on the road. I sort of assumed that that was our reason for taking a break, but I was still unsure and uncomfortable. I don't know how else I was supposed to feel.
There was another guy in the car with us then -an “associate” of Tougou’s, a running buddy- who weird enough had nothing to say regarding the fact that his pal here had just stopped driving seemingly without warning to just sit and... think? I didn't say anything because who the fuck was I to ask those two a damn thing? But I didn't like it, it felt wrong like I said.
I had taken a risk and pestered Tougou enough earlier to get him to spill the beans as to what exactly the plan was for that day, but not with any kind of clarity or depth. “We're picking up a friend in Tokyo” he informed me sparsely. “And if you're smart; you'll show a little respect and keep your mouth shut when we meet him.”
I remembered that and took his advice when said friend came lumbering headlong into the Toyota just before we left Tokyo, greeting Tougou with a grin and giving me the full once-over as he settled into his seat. Since then, the two of them barely spoke. If they did, it was about the weather or the increasing aggressiveness of traffic cops.
Tougou rested his arms on the steering wheel and then his forehead on his arms, and I watched him. His eyes were moving back and forth like he was reading something, and he was chewing on his lip. He does that when he's thinking: of our next move or doing math in his head, measuring weights, proportions, whatever. I'd noticed that tick during all the time I’d spent sitting in silence with nothing to do but sneak glances the man’s way and try not to think about my family and cry. It was tough in the first few weeks. Anyway though, it was freaking me out. I was almost ready to cough or clear my throat just to break the silence, but before I could get the nerve up: the man in the back said something I can't remember, and that prompted Tougou to make a move.
I was still looking at him when he turned to face me, and even though I flinched away as soon as I noticed his eye training on mine; I knew he'd caught me looking. There was that split second of human recognition between us, and I swear right then -in the blur of motion- I caught something glinting in his eye vaguely recognizable as shame. I decided to believe that I had just seen something more meaningful than just a trick of the mind. My brain just trying to soften the blow, make me feel a little better.
I didn't see what Tougou was doing past that point because I had rotated all the way around to curl up and face my side's door in a protective fashion, but I heard it all:
He hit the master-lock button on the driver’s side control-panel first, and the stubby antenna I was staring at shot down with a "ker-chunk” sound.
My stomach did a backflip, and I started to sweat.
As if signaled, a slow shuffling began in the back seat: that characteristic hissing, swiping noise cheap synthetics make as they rub against each other. The fucking guy in the back whose name I never caught whether he had said it or not, asked Tougou my age. He said: “How old is that one again?” And pointed at me.Tougou told him I was 20, which was wrong. I was 23. I’m 24 now. “Really?” the stranger said. “Yeah,” Tougou said, and I heard his Zippo flick open. The man in the back reached over my seat to rest a hand on my shoulder, and I reflexively jerked forward.
I asked what was going on under my breath, but nobody heard. I asked again, and one of them told me to shut up. Didn't know which. I asked again –louder that time– and for my troubles I got a smack upside the head that rattled my teeth. I started crying then –and shouting– but Tougou told me that if I didn't knock it off he'd really give me something to cry about, so I did the best I could to stop.
I just whimpered, whined a little. I’m not normally a crier, but it wasn't like I could help it, obviously. I was scared. I can admit that. The noises I made got drowned out by the rain, mostly, so nobody noticed.
I started pounding at the window and yanking like a lunatic at the door handle; trying to find a way –any way– out, but neither would give.
“My God...’” somebody moaned. “Can't you give him something?”
“What? Like what?”
“Fucking… heroin? I don't know.”
“Why would I have that? I don't have any of that.”
They both sigh.
“Tougou-san, look at him.”
I was sobbing and moaning again -wet heaves accompanied by a mantra of “stop, fuck, what's going on”- and when Tougou saw me, I got slapped hard across the face for it just like I figured I would. I didn't stop though, so he did it again. I couldn't stop. And again. It wasn't stopping. So he kept on until the floodgates halted to a pathetic little trickle and my face was bruised purple and blue.
When I was 10, it only took one. One good smack. He knocked me out cold once with just one slap to the face.
Tougou pulled my seat’s side-lever, causing it to drop back into a flat position with my eyes watching the interior roof of the car. I scrambled to sit up, but he pushed me back down and held me there with a hand to the throat. I clawed at that too, so he tightened it until my face started to change color and I dropped my hands.
He leaned down my ear then, really gently –disconcertingly gently– and said to me quietly but firmly –the way a kid's mom might warn them to quit acting out in the grocery store or something, a low hiss: “If you don't shut up within the next 5 seconds, I will turn this car around, and we will go back from where we came from, and I will make one of your brothers take your place. And you will watch. Do you understand me? That is a promise. They'll be sitting where you are, and you'll be in the backseat. Do you understand? Do you?”
Somehow, I found the energy to nod. He loosened up and pinched my arm hard with his other hand, which forced me to yelp out a “Yeah!” Tougou let my throat go.
Our friend in the backseat now hanging over me like a giant –who I sensed was fed up with the theatrics; sitting there pantless and visibly eager for the activities to come– began to take off his white GAP boxers. If there were any other color, I would've thrown up. He had a fledgling hardon, and monkeyed deftly over me to take on a straddling position about my head and press his head to my lips. It was angry red, and sort of mushroom-looking. Fatter than you’d want.
Tougou didn't touch me: he just watched the both of us, smoking.
I was crying, but silently and dryly and without looking like it. My whole face was all slick and gross with residual snot and tears, which must've turned the stranger on because he went from half-staff to full-mast within seconds of getting a good look at my blotchy complexion. It had to have been blotchy. He warned me firmly that if I bit him, he'd pull my teeth out and then make me suck him off all over again.
Tougou nodded his approval.
I didn't bite. I tried so hard to keep my teeth away from his dick I think they may have retracted back into my gums.
Tougou moved over to undo my pants. The man with his cock in my mouth told him he wanted to do it though, so Tougou held off. He said something and the man laughed, something about my eyes and a dead fish. The rain was coming down hard; so hard I didn't even hear the joke, but somebody turned on the radio anyway. Maybe to drown out the noise? Maybe.
If a cop came by, would they knock on the window? Or would they keep driving? Am I on the missing person’s registry yet? I used to catch my face on posters when Tougou snatched me for the longest extended spree -a month- but I would always think for a split second that it was Choromatsu I was seeing and panic.
I had never given a blowjob before then, so I was gagging and drooling all over the place. It was mixing with pre-cum and dribbling down my chin in fat globs and saturating my hoodie’s collar.
There was this ballad playing on the Hot 100 Pop Countdown that Karamatsu really liked around that time. He even covered it for his YouTube channel. Meanwhile, I can't ever listen to it again.
“Thank you very much for choosing me this time—” the singer groveled.
“Thank you for understanding.”
When he finally fucked me –the stranger– he did it missionary style so he could see my face (or so he said. Whatever. I was trying to zone out, I wasn't analyzing anybody’s motives). He sat me up, undressed me like he said he would, and flipped me over so that the side of my face was flat against the car seat and my feet were touching the back seat. When I closed my eyes, he told me to open them. There was no lube involved, but there was a condom worn reluctantly and slightly too far down the shaft. I had begged him really quietly to put it on, but it was Tougou’s demand that he wear a rubber that actually got the job done. I could see my savior out of the corner of my eye –sitting there eyeing me like a slab of meat, tent in his pants– but I didn't know if he would join in or not.
I prayed he wouldn't. I don't know why he didn't just get out of the fucking car.
The stranger commented on how tight I was. I figured I should've been: I was technically a virgin.
Somebody told me to moan, so I did. Why wouldn't I have. What was I gonna say: “No, do it yourself you fat bastard”? No. I moaned, and when he told me to do it again: I did it again.
There was a finger in my mouth all of a sudden, which I sucked disinterestedly. Whose it was: I don't know. It was kind of fat, so it was probably the stranger’s.
I wondered if Tougou wanted this back when I was a kid. If he’d been able to get me out of the city before the cops put a stop to his whole operation– would I already be used to this kind of treatment by now? The thought alone was enough to make me spit up bile in my mouth, but I quickly swallowed it before anybody could notice.
“You’re a gorgeous kid.” The strange man whispered, close enough to my ear so that his lips tickled the shell. I was so out of it I didn't even startle, my eyes just rolled to look at him. His breath was really hot and humid, and it smelled like chocolate. He must've had a candy bar before all this. I'm not a kid anymore. “And to think [panting] there's five more of you.”
Tougou must've told him I’m a sextuplet. I can't fucking believe he told him I’m a sextuplet. Why did he tell him I’m a sextuplet. What the fuck.
I gave a strangled little sob. That was the final push, I think.
After he came, he cleaned himself up with a Kleenex from the glove compartment and then both of them –the stranger and Tougou– left me lying limp in the car. The risk typically associated with leaving a kidnapping victim unsupervised was a non issue: I was totally spent. Not going anywhere. I think there was a tear in my ass.
Anyway, the rain had stopped by then and I could see the pair in my peripheral vision.
They shook hands (disgustingly enough, because I’m sure they were both all grubby), and then a fat wad of cash was exchanged. Tougou made a joke and then adjusted his crotch, to which the stranger replied with a bark of a laugh. The whole episode amounted to a ploy to curry some good graces, and I could tell. I was an offering almost, or a negotiation spot.
I didn't care.
What reason could Tougou have given that would've made me care?
They both got back in after that, and there were some mild gymnastics necessary to readjust everything. Tougou instructed me to put my clothes back on. I slowly put my clothes back on, and the stranger wiped the sweat from my brow with the heel of hand. It was kind of a wasted effort though, because the sweat just kept coming.
“Thank you for understanding,” Karamatsu crooned gently. No, it wasn't him: It was the radio. The radio said that.
“Thank you for understanding” he repeated. I was crying again.
“Turn the radio off.” I sniffled, because at that point I didn't care what he did to me. The way I saw it, the worst had already passed.
Tougou put the car in drive. “Are you out of your mind?” He replied calmly.
“Turn it off!”
Tougou laughed.
“Turn the fucking goddamn radio off !” I screamed, choking.
The guy in the back was laughing too.
The radio DJ was laughing.
I know now that it wasn't at me, but back then it really felt like it.