Chapter 34: Return to Land of the Rising Sun

December 13, 1994, Narita Airport, Japan

“Reason for your visit to Japan?” the immigration officer asked.

“Two days of business meetings, then a visit to see my Shōtōkan master in Oguni, in Yamagata Prefecture. I was here during the summer to train with him.”

I handed him a letter from SPSS, written in Japanese. He read it, stamped my passport and forms, and handed them back.

“Thank you, Mr. Adams. Welcome back to Japan!”

“Dō itashimashite“, I replied.

He smiled, nodded and indicated the way I should go, just as a similar officer had done the previous time.

I walked to the baggage claim, and then on to customs. I had nothing to declare other than a gift for Sakurako, but it was within the limits and I didn’t owe any duty. As I had the first time, I stopped at a bank of phones and used my AT&T Calling Card to call home. Kara had promised to be home, and she was.

“Hi, Honey,” I said when she answered. “I’m safely in Japan.”

“That’s what you said last time!”

“I know. This is just a quick call. I need to get to the hotel and check in and then get to the SPSS offices.”

“Did you sleep on the flight?”

“Yes. I got about five hours of sleep. I’ll get to bed at a reasonable time tonight. I promise.”

“Good! I won’t keep you. Thanks for letting me know you’re safe.”

“Keep this call between you and Jess, please. A certain miniature human might be put off.”

“Oh, she would!” Kara laughed. “And her fit of pique would last for about thirty seconds before she needed daddy cuddles again!”

“So true! I love you, Honey.”

“I love you, too, Snuggle Bear. Have a good time in Japan.”

“I will. Unless I call to cancel, I’ll videoconference with you all in about seven hours.”

“OK. The kids are looking forward to it.”

“Me too!”

We said ‘goodbye’ and I hung up. I grabbed my bags and headed for the arrival hall. Having been in Japan once before, I knew how to get my tickets and where to go.

I walked out and stopped dead in my tracks. I saw a beautiful, fifteen-year-old girl holding a sign which simply read ‘Steve-chan’. I dropped my bags and sprinted the short distance to Sakurako and swept her into my arms.

“愛してるわ (aishiteru wa),” she said, softly.

“Aishiteru,” I replied. “What are you doing here?!”

“I received permission from Grandfather to come to be with you. Grandmother insisted he grant permission! I will go home if it’s inconvenient.”

“Please stay! I’m very happy you’re here! I’m just surprised. And happy! Please stay with me at the hotel. I’m going to check in first, then I need to go to the offices of the company where I’m working.”

“I have train tickets to Tokyo station for us.”

“I need to reimburse you for those. Work is paying for my trip, and we’re charging it back to the client.”

“OK. Let’s go!”

December 13, 1994, Tokyo, Japan

“Steve-chan, it is better I wait outside until you have your room. They might ask difficult questions. When you leave for the office, you can simply give me the key and tell me the room number. I’ll go have some tea and come back in a bit. I need to nap, anyway. I traveled all night! Did you sleep?”

“About five hours. I’ll be fine. My body clock is still a bit messed up, but a week in Australia helped, especially with being outside.”

“Good!”

I walked into the Keio Plaza Hotel, which was part of the InterContinental chain, and showed my Six Continents Membership card. I was quickly checked in and shown to my suite, which already contained the usual fruit basket and sparkling water, and instead of the usual bottle of champagne, two small bottles of «nihonshu». There was also a very nice box of chocolates. I offered a tip to the bellman, which he politely refused, and set my things on the bed.

I made a quick survey of the two-room suite, noticing a very elaborate toilet with a remote control! I laughed to myself, and decided to figure it out when I returned that evening. I quickly showered and changed into my suit and fifteen minutes later, joined Sakurako on the sidewalk outside the hotel. I gave her my room number and key, we hugged briefly, and then I asked the doorman for a cab.

Twelve minutes later, after negotiating terrible Tokyo traffic, the taxi deposited me in front of the high-rise building where SPSS maintained their offices. I was met by the managing director, Mr. Masanori Hayashi, as we would say in English, and the local IT support person, Katsuro Sakamoto. Unfortunately, neither of them spoke very good English. I managed the basic greetings, and bowed and properly exchanged business cards, but after that point, I was going to be lost.

I was saved a few seconds later when Keith Bennet walked up and introduced himself. He was originally from Chicago, and had been working in the Japanese office for the past six years. We shook hands rather than bowed, and he and Mr. Hayashi spoke in Japanese.

“He compliments you on your proper execution of a Japanese greeting and the exchange of business cards.”

“«Dōmo arigatou gozaimasu»,” I said, bowing.

“How much Japanese do you speak?” Keith asked.

“About a dozen phrases, plus I know a smattering of words. I was in Japan over the summer to train with the master of my karate school.”

“Ah, that explains it. I have no doubt they very directly taught you proper manners.”

“Fortunately, I had some help in Chicago from a Japanese karate instructor before I arrived. That saved me quite a bit of embarrassment. How is this going to work with the IT man not speaking English?”

“I’m your assigned translator. It’s not really my role, but there are only a few people in the entire office who speak any English at all.”

“Well, let’s get to work. The Unix server will be easy, as that’s all in English, but I suspect the videoconferencing server is running a Japanese version of DOS or Windows?”

“No. We procured a standard Dell just as we did for the Unix server. I figured I could write the instructions out for them to use it easier than we could get help from you or Sam for a Japanese system. How is she?”

“I stopped in to see her right before I left for Australia. I wore body armor.”

Keith laughed, “Missing a free trip to Australia, Singapore, and Japan would be really annoying!”

“She’s also very active, and being confined to a hospital bed for a month is not making her happy. She’ll start rehab soon, and that will make her even crankier, I’m sure.”

“I broke my leg skiing when I was twenty-two. You don’t want to do that. Trust me.”

“A skull fracture and a broken wrist from a bad fall were more than enough for me. Shall we get started?”

“Absolutely!” he replied.

He said something in Japanese to the two men, and after exchanging bows, the managing director disappeared and the three of us left began walking to the part of the office where the videoconferencing computer was set up.

“They wish to take you to dinner tonight,” Keith said.

“I have a guest with me.”

“Male or female?”

“Female.”

He shook his head, “It’s not even in the realm of possibilities to have a woman at dinner with you.”

I nodded, “I know the drill. How rude would it be to refuse?”

“Extremely. But, being a foreigner, they’ll cut you a bit of slack. The problem is that you demonstrated just enough knowledge of Japan to know that a refusal is an insult. And they’ll know you know.”

“So I clearly cannot choose the wine in front of me,” I said. “Beautiful. OK. I know my guest will understand. She’s about as traditionally Japanese as they come.”

“Someone you met on your previous trip?”

“Yes. She won’t complain, but I can’t get drunk and I need to be in bed at a reasonable time. Health reasons for both. Also, I have to be exceedingly careful about carbohydrates. I’m not diabetic, but I need to be just as careful for other health reasons.”

“That actually won’t be an issue. The place they want to take you is a Korean barbecue. Lots of meat and vegetables, plus things like pickled vegetables.”

“«Gimchi»?” I said.

“Yes; and you even pronounce it like a Korean. Not bad.”

“Thanks. One of the things I find very important is proper pronunciation of foreign words. I’ll be happy to join them for dinner.”

“Good. A key point about drinking. When you are done, simply leave your glass full. If you empty it, someone will fill it. I know it’s odd, but just trust me, please. Don’t be the ugly American.”

“I take it you’ve seen one?”

“Oh yes. Someone from our Chicago office was here recently to review some proposed new office space. He acted like the ‘Great White Father’, couldn’t understand that leaving his glass full wasn’t rude, and didn’t listen about eating pickled vegetables.”

“Uh oh.”

“Yes. A drunk, 290 pound, obese man nearly choking to death on a spicy cucumber. Not a pretty sight.”

“Sounds like the lady in Amsterdam who told her son not to look at some van Gogh sculptures because they were ‘junk’ that nobody cared about.”

Keith laughed, “We could retire to Costa Rica on a single sale of one of those pieces of ‘junk’ and live like kings!”

“No kidding!”

Everything went smoothly for the morning, and I was able to make the video call with the kids, much to the amusement of Katsuro and, to my surprise, the disgust of Keith. I tried to work it out and couldn’t. My wives and I did wish each other ‘Happy anniversary’, even though it was a few days before the actual date. Happily, we’d all agreed not to make a big deal about it. Once the call finished Keith and I went to lunch and I asked him directly what had bothered him.

“I’d rather not talk about it. Sorry if I offended you.”

“No, it’s OK. And trust me, you’d be hard pressed to offend me. Those kids? They have four moms, including one who was my High School sweetheart who finally came to terms with being a lesbian. She and her wife wanted a kid, so I helped.”

Keith laughed, “OK. I suppose I can safely tell you. I’m here in Japan because my partner is a Japanese guy I met here on a business trip ten years ago.”

“My best friend from High School is gay. He and his partner visit us occasionally. And another close friend of mine lives with her wife in Vermont and runs a bed-and-breakfast I helped start by providing seed money.”

“I REALLY shouldn’t have worried. Sorry about my bad reaction, but heterosexuals with lots of kids annoy gay men quite a bit.”

“Oh, I know. Drew, that’s my friend Larry’s partner, calls us ‘breeders’ in the most contemptuous way possible. But he’s still a friend.”

We had a good chat over lunch, then went back to the office to work on the Unix server setup. Before we started, I called the hotel, and unfortunately, woke Sakurako from her nap. I explained the situation, she said she understood and would eat dinner on her own, and be waiting for me when I returned. I apologized profusely, but she reminded me I hadn’t expected her to be in Tokyo.

After I installed the operating system, I had some issues getting the modem configured to properly dial Chicago, but after a few failed attempts and a detailed, but translated, discussion with Katsuro, we sorted out the proper dialing sequence to make the direct international call and managed to connect to Chicago and exchange some test emails with the server there.

Configuring MS Mail was a much more daunting task, as everything was in Japanese, and Keith had some difficulty translating the technical terms from Japanese to English as he wasn’t versed in SMTP or electronic mail, and neither was Katsuro. In the end, I determined the fields were likely in the same order and called Marleney in Singapore to tell me what each field was, in order, so I could fill in the information. I made notes on Sam’s configuration sheets as to which order the information was entered so we could revise them to prevent similar problems in the future. That also meant that we had to verify the configuration screens each time an update was completed.

We finished for the day about 6:00pm, just in time to leave for dinner. I noticed that not a single person had left the office when we left, confirming something I’d heard about Japan - namely not leaving before the boss did. I chuckled to myself at what the response from my team in Chicago might be to such a notion, and I concluded it would curl wallpaper and be unfit for family publications. And I’d agree with them.

Dinner was excellent, and I found myself once again surrounded by people who mostly didn’t speak English, making me reliant on a translator. In this case, it was Keith, rather than Hiroshi or Robert, but the effect was the same. It made conversations a bit awkward and convinced me that if I was going to come to Japan again, I was going to learn more Japanese. I didn’t see it happening, but I also hadn’t seen this trip happening. It was really a matter of time, which I didn’t have.

The other thing that was bothering me, was that the peacefulness I’d achieved while waiting for my flight felt largely dissipated. I probably shouldn’t have been surprised by that, but it was somewhat annoying, nonetheless. Fortunately, I had only a half-day on Wednesday, and then I could clear my mind again before the trip to Oguni, which would start very early on Thursday morning. I’d have only Friday and Saturday there, in which to meet with Yoshiro and pay my respects to Hiro-san and the other students. It would have been far too short a time to be with Sakurako, and I was pleased she had come to Tokyo, which would give us plenty of extra time, despite missing several hours because of the dinner.

At what Keith described as a very early hour, 11:00pm, the dinner ended, and I quickly caught a taxi to the hotel. Sakurako was awake, and waiting for me, and we embraced tightly. She helped me undress, hanging my suit jacket and pants in the closet. When I was naked, she led me to the bathroom and had me shower. I suspected she was concerned about the cigarette smoke, which had been thick, and I had noticed as I rode in the taxi and in the elevator. When I finished my shower, Sakurako dried me, and we exchanged our first kiss.

“Steve-chan, please relax. Let me use the steam unit to clean your suit or it will smell horribly in the morning.”

“OK.”

I went and climbed into bed, and propped myself on pillows. It dawned on me that this day was the first day I’d ever seen Sakurako in public in what was ‘Western’ clothing. She was wearing a floral skirt with a pale yellow, long-sleeved blouse, and looked very pretty. I strongly preferred her kimono, either the informal or formal ones, and especially the «furisode». I watched as she carefully used a steam wand of some kind attached to a machine that appeared to also be a press, and cleaned my suit. When she finished, she went to the bag she’d brought with her and pulled out the «furisode». She went into the bathroom, put it on, and then came to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Why did you put it on?” I asked.

“Because I know you like it, and I know you wish to help me remove it!” she said with a big smile.

“And this is what you wish?” I asked.

She nodded, “Here, in Tokyo, please have me your way. At home, I will have you mine.”

I climbed out of bed, pulled her to me, and we exchanged a deep kiss. Sakurako’s hands roamed over my back and butt, and I moved my hand to tug at the obi of her «furisode». It came untied and the «furisode» fell open. A slight shift and our bodies came into contact for the first time since mid-July. The feel of her warm skin, hard nipples, and soft pubic hair was enough to cause an instant, rock-hard erection.

I gently pushed the «furisode» from Sakurako’s shoulders, and it slipped to the floor. I released her, picked it up, and folded it neatly and put it on a chair. I went back to her, and pulled her tightly to me again. We exchanged a deep kiss, and I scooped her into my arms and laid her on the bed. For the next twenty minutes, I worshiped her body with lips, tongue, and fingers, thoroughly enjoying myself and bringing her to two small orgasms.

I moved between Sakurako’s legs, positioned my glans against her labia, and slowly entered her in one smooth stroke. She wrapped her arms and legs around me and held me tightly.

“«すごい» (sugoi),” she sighed. “Just as amazing as the first time!”

She’d given me permission to have her as I wished, and what I wished was giving her maximum pleasure. I began slowly, focusing my entire being on the beautiful girl who was under me, slowly sliding in and out of her slick, tight tunnel. Sakurako didn’t resist, but moved with me, as I asked, and her pleasure built to a crescendo, causing her entire body to shake. I continued moving in her, as I had, slightly increasing the strength and speed of my thrusts, bringing her off again and again, until after about twenty-five minutes she was gasping for breath.

I began moving hard and fast, and Sakurako moaned, groaned, and gasped as I took us both towards the edge of a cliff we both wished to go over. My timing was perfect and just as the first spurt of my cum blasted into her, her walls spasmed hard, milking each jet of cum from me. When my orgasm passed, I slowly withdrew, and pulled Sakurako to me to cuddle. She snuggled close, and put her head on my chest.

“Do you wish to go again?” she asked. “Or to sleep?”

“I think sleep now,” I said.

I reached over and turned off the light and we both quickly fell asleep.

December 14, 1994, Tokyo, Japan

“What do you wish to do this afternoon?” Sakurako asked when I returned to the hotel at lunch time.

“I’d like to get some gifts for my kids.”

“We can go to Shinjuku Station. There are plenty of shops both in the station and around it. We’re in that area now. We could also go to Ginza.”

“I’ll let you decide. I’d like to eat here in the room tonight, just you and me.”

“And what is it you wish to eat?” she asked with a smile.

“Why, you of course! But that’s dessert!”

“You did not wish me to use my mouth on you last night?”

“No, I wanted exactly what we did. That was perfect. And we can do that several times today, if you wish.”