Ashen Moon: Volume 1 - Chapter 1

As a side note, I will keep certain terms in the original Japanese because I think it sounds better. I will also keep the order of their names Last Name First Name as in the original Japanese. 

The content warning is in the footnotes0.

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A bright opal green wall paired with a black carpet is a poor aesthetic choice. The dark flooring creates a sense of falling into a hole. While the dark color hides stains well, it disrupts the overall balance and harmony of the space due to its functionality-first approach. If I were to design this, I would choose a sepia or a more greyish taupe carpet instead.

In front of room 2102, Motohashi Soichi was idly rubbing the long-pile carpet with his heel, contemplating these trivial matters. Since the hotel had been arranged on short notice, Kato’s inspection of the room was running late today. The sound of something heavy being dragged echoed down the hallway. The bodyguards flanking him reacted instantly, positioning themselves protectively. Despite being shielded by their burly frames, Soichi’s body began to tremble uncontrollably. He grasped his trembling arm tightly, almost to the point of pain.

A porter appeared in the hallway, pushing a luggage cart, followed by a foreign couple who seemed to be hotel guests. The man briefly glanced at the three men standing motionless in the hallway, likely curious about their presence. Soichi’s bodyguards had faces that unmistakably suggested their underworld affiliations. Soichi didn't want such stereotypical yakuza-looking individuals around, but there was no choice; they were necessary for protection, not decoration.

Even though he tried to diminish their yakuza aura by dressing them in stylish but not too flashy suits, the air of the underworld was impossible to erase. He couldn’t stand being paraded around with bodyguards. He wanted to get into his room as soon as possible. It had been safer to wait in the lobby, but he had been advised against it because guarding such a busy area was more difficult.

The door in front of him clicked open, and Kato emerged into the hallway. “What’s the matter?” he asked, frowning at the bodyguards forming a protective barrier around Soichi.

“Someone came. They appear to be other hotel guests and an employee,” one of the bodyguards replied.

“Got it,” Kato nodded slightly and stepped aside, holding the door open. “I’ve checked the room. Mr. Soichi, please come inside.”

Soichi responded with a grunt and stepped into the room. He noticed Kato’s brief glance, aware of his trembling but said nothing. Without removing his coat, Soichi headed straight to the bathroom, thoroughly washing his hands and rinsing his mouth with cold water. This was his usual ritual upon entering any room, whether at home or in a hotel. Performing this familiar task helped him calm down, and his trembling eventually ceased.

With his composure returning, Soichi began to take in his surroundings. The sink was made of glass with a high-design aesthetic, and the faucet was well-designed for usability. The shower room and bathtub were, of course, separate. This newly built international hotel could be rated four out of five stars. It had good functionality, but the poor taste of the hallway carpet knocked off a point.

Soichi left the bathroom and returned to the room, which was spacious with white walls, a grey-beige carpet, and simple furnishings in dark brown with clean lines. He took off his black long coat as he approached the upholstered sofa, droplets from melted snow splashing onto his face. His fingers felt lighter as the weight of the coat disappeared.

“I’ll take care of it,” Kato said, brushing off the water droplets from the coat before putting it away in the closet. He was attentive and had a knack for blending into the background, often surprising Soichi with his quiet presence.



Soichi collapsed onto the sofa, the tension draining from his body, leaving him feeling limp. His cheek twitched slightly from the effort of socializing during the meeting, a side effect of having to be overly friendly. While he enjoyed the strategic maneuvering and probing conversations, only to a certain extent. Today’s meeting was filled with people more scheming than devils.

“...The snow has gotten worse again,” Kato said, slightly lifting the curtain to peer outside.

“The weather forecast said it would stop after midnight, but we won’t know the road conditions until morning. We might be stuck here a little longer.”

Luckily, there were no appointments tomorrow, because Kato had adjusted the schedule. Soichi relied heavily on Kato, fearing that without him, his work would come to a halt.

Kato’s nearly black, navy suit was custom-made by Soichi’s favorite tailor, fitting his tall, broad-shouldered frame well. Kato was turning forty-three this year, but his physique showed no signs of age, remaining firm and well-built. It was the ideal form for a man of his generation.

Their eyes met when Kato turned around. Feeling awkward for staring, Soichi quickly looked away.

“Would you like to rest?”

Before Soichi could answer, his stomach growled quietly. In the quiet room, the sound was embarrassingly loud. His earlobes burned with embarrassment.

“Shall I order some food?”

Embarrassed, but realizing Kato knew everything about him, Soichi nodded. “...Yes, something light.”

Listening to Kato place the room service order, Soichi sunk deeper into the sofa, even kicking off his shoes.

“If you’re tired, you could nap first,” Kato suggested.

Soichi shook his head. Waking up hungry in the middle of the night would be worse.

...Soichi was part of the Motohashi gang, a subgroup of the designated yakuza organization Rano. This time, Soichi had attended a meeting in Nagoya, the Rano group leader’s hometown, as his father’s proxy. The meeting, held at a high-end traditional inn, involved facing a formidable group of Rano group executives.

The meeting lasted late into the night, and though invited to a favorite club by a friendly boss, Soichi declined, citing a non-existent funeral the next day. He had escaped the crowd of old schemers, sighing in relief in the car when Kato, who had joined him in the passenger seat, said, “The snow has worsened, and the highway is closed.”

Kato hadn’t mentioned this earlier when they were invited to the club, understanding Soichi’s intent to decline the invitation. With the highway closed, they couldn’t drive back to Tokyo, and the national roads would be jammed with rushing traffic. Staying was the wiser choice, but it nullified Soichi’s excuse. Kato had anticipated this and chosen the hotel on short notice. Their room was a twin, shared with Kato. Outside, two bodyguards stood guard, with two more at the hotel entrance.

Eight bodyguards rotated shifts to provide around-the-clock protection, a level of security even higher-ranking yakuza rarely saw. No matter how much he was mocked as "anxious" or "gutless," Soichi couldn’t walk outside without layers of human protection. Without Kato, he doubted he could sleep in an unfamiliar hotel.

Soichi closed his eyes. He hated having typical yakuza thugs around but needed them for protection. He used to move more freely, but everything changed five years ago due to "that incident." Even recalling fragments made his stomach churn with pain and nausea.

Back then, I only had Kato and a young member named Yamada as bodyguards. Despite being the son of the boss, I didn’t hold a prominent role and wasn’t known for generating funds through stock manipulation. I was tall, slender, and reasonably good-looking, often scouted at train stations during my school days. I didn’t have the imposing look of an heir apparent.

Even when I casually job hunted to pass the time before graduating from university, I easily received offers from major companies. My father said it was okay for me to go legit, but I chose to step into the underworld instead. I grew up watching my yakuza father. Having yakuza around the house was normal. I wanted to be the one wielding absolute power, not the one serving it.

The concept of common sense is fundamentally stupid. In both the underworld and the legitimate world, common sense crumbles before absolute "power." I had no doubts about becoming a yakuza, but I was repulsed by the old customs. I could rationalize the many obligations as part of the job, but walking around with a gaggle of tough bodyguards just because I was a boss looked ridiculous. I thought my father’s entourage of close aides was a relic from the era of bloody gang wars, even though such conflicts had since subsided.

After graduating from university, I joined Motohashi’s front company, and my father forcibly assigned Kato, a future executive candidate, as my bodyguard. I didn’t need one and wanted to refuse, but my father’s pride was at stake. I planned to find an excuse to send him back eventually, so I kept him around for the time being. Initially, I didn’t give him any work or speak to him, intending not to get too familiar.

Despite being ignored, Kato followed me like a shadow. Over time, I realized he was a quick thinker and attentive. With increasing miscellaneous tasks related to fundraising, I began using him more as a clerk than a bodyguard, and he proved so capable that I ended up relying on him for everything.

Since Kato became too busy, I borrowed a man named Yamada from the organization to reduce Kato’s workload, especially for outside tasks. Despite Yamada's cheap appearance that couldn’t be concealed by any suit or hairstyle, he wasn't oppressive, so he wasn't unpleasant to have around. He could drive, didn’t do drugs, and could bark when danger approached. I didn't expect much from him—just a mutt watchdog, a simple-minded thug.

My view of Yamada, whom I hadn’t even considered a "person," changed when the son of a stationery store owner, whose business we had crushed for land, attacked me. Initially, I didn’t understand what had happened and stared blankly at Yamada, who was bleeding from his arm. It took me a moment to realize that the mutt watchdog had risked himself to protect me. The joy I felt then was indescribable.

I used to think anyone could be a bodyguard and they were easily replaceable, but I came to prefer Yamada. Like Kato, I wanted to keep this man by my side. Though Yamada wasn't as sharp as Kato, he was straightforward and didn’t put on airs despite being immersed in this world. I even considered promoting him to an executive when I succeeded the organization, but he escaped along with the man I had ordered him to kill. I was extremely disappointed and furious because I had liked him.

Traitors must be punished. I ordered Kato to lead the search for Yamada, mobilizing all Motohashi members. I wouldn't be satisfied until we found him, beat him, made him scream and beg on his knees for forgiveness. On the third day of his escape, we got information about Yamada’s whereabouts.

"If I go, your security will be thin," Kato hesitated, but I forced him to go. I trusted him more than anyone else.

It was snowing that day, just like today. Kato and the driver went to find Yamada, leaving Tokyo. I drove myself to a dinner meeting. Since I drank, I borrowed one of my father’s men to drive me back. "Don’t use a taxi or driver service," Kato had strictly told me. I used to brush off his warnings, but after the stationery store incident, I became more cautious.

I returned to my apartment past 10 PM. The driver parked and left. The elevator didn’t stop on any other floors, so I assumed no one else was around. I checked the hall and corridor for anyone, a habit instilled by Kato's constant warnings.

As usual, I confirmed no one was there and headed to my room. I held the keycard to the door lock, and it clicked open. I heard another door opening nearby but didn’t think much of it. Occasionally, I ran into neighbors, and my guard was down with the room in sight.

As I slipped inside, I was shoved from behind. The force knocked me forward into the corridor. I hit my stomach and arm, grimacing in pain, and saw shadows pushing into my room as the door slammed shut, plunging the area into darkness.

"Hey, where's the light?" a man yelled. Who were these guys? Burglars? Or members of another gang? Multiple scenarios ran through my mind.

Outnumbered, I had no chance. I had to get away. I stumbled, trying to escape into the room, but slipped and fell on my knee.

The corridor lights suddenly came on, and I saw my hands on the floor. Someone had found the switch.

"Grab him!" someone shouted. Before I could turn, someone jumped on my back. My arms buckled under the weight, and I fell face down, my chest compressed painfully between the floor and the weight.

"You guys... what...," I struggled to speak as my right arm was twisted behind me.

"It hurts! Stop!" I yelled, but the grip tightened. My left arm was also pinned back and restrained. I couldn’t move.

"This should do," a roll of duct tape was tossed in front of me. They used it to bind my arms.

"This guy’s easy," one of them sneered. I was kicked in the waist, causing me to lurch forward and hit my chin. This was bad—very bad.

They grabbed my hair, yanking my head up and dragging me backward.

"It hurts... stop it..." I pleaded, but resisting only made my scalp hurt more. They dragged me to the living room and threw me near the sofa. Even after they let go, my scalp tingled painfully.

As I raised my head, three men stood before me like a wall. The man on the right, wearing a bomber jacket, was in his mid-twenties, tall and skinny with fox-like narrow eyes. The man in the middle, around thirty, had a shaved head and wore glasses. The youngest of the three was on the left, slightly overweight and dressed in a blue sweatshirt. They all had a sinister look, and their entire demeanor exuded a shady, underworld vibe. The moment I realized they were from that world; a cold shiver ran through my body.

"So, this pretty boy is Motohashi’s heir?" The bald man with glasses squinted, staring down at me as I lay there.

"Just a spoiled brat who only has brains," the skinny man with fox-like eyes kicked me in the waist, and I gritted my teeth against the pain.

"Hey, does this guy have a smartphone or something?" the bald man pointed at me with his thumb.

"Even if he does, with his arms like that, he can't use it," the fox-eyed man shrugged.

"You never know," the bald man knelt and searched the inside pocket of my jacket. He found my smartphone but didn’t take it out, instead smirking as he slowly ran his fingers over my chest through my shirt, savoring the feel of my body. It was disgusting.

"Hmm, that's strange," he muttered, withdrawing his hand from my chest and moving it to my pants pocket. There was nothing there, but he persistently searched, even groping my groin through the fabric. Overwhelmed by disgust and humiliation, I writhed to escape. I glared at him, twisting my neck, and he licked his lips with the tip of his tongue.

"Ah, here it is," he finally pulled out my smartphone from the jacket pocket and held it up next to his face, looking back at the fox-eyed man.

"Hey, Saotome, what should we do with this? Should we turn it off?" the bald man asked.

"Hmm," Saotome hummed softly, "if it stops ringing, that might raise suspicion. Just leave it."

"Got it," the bald man tossed the smartphone into the trash bin. So, the fox-eyed man’s name was Saotome—that much I learned.

What are they planning to do? Who are these men, and what is their purpose? While there were occasional skirmishes between gangs, I hadn't heard of any major "trouble" big enough to involve me, the boss's son.

"What’s your goal?" I asked. They clearly heard me and even looked my way, but they ignored me.

"Hey, Shige," Saotome called out, and the overweight man in the sweatshirt turned around. So, this guy’s name was Shige.

"Trash the place a bit and grab anything valuable," Saotome ordered.

"Got it," Shige responded and left the living room. There's no way these guys are just common thieves. This was obviously a setup.

"Now then..."

Saotome knelt down in front of Soichi and grabbed his hair, forcing his face upwards. His eyes met the thin, fox-like eyes of Saotome, who was smiling.

"Long time no see," Saotome said.

Was this guy someone I knew? His unnaturally thin eyebrows and gapped front teeth gave him a thuggish appearance that I didn't recognize.

"Who are you?" I asked.

In an instant, Saotome's expression changed. He slapped me hard, first on the right cheek, then the left. Sparks flew behind my eyes, and my mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood. I didn’t even have time to say, “It hurts.”

As an only child and the eldest son, I had hit people but never been hit myself. Not even my parents had laid a hand on me.

"The son of Motohashi doesn't bother remembering low-ranking members, huh?" Saotome's voice was filled with bitterness.

"Look at this," Saotome opened his left hand in front of my face. His pinky finger was missing from the first joint.

"Every night, the finger you had cut off throbs with pain," he said.

"I’ve never cut off anyone’s finger," I protested.

"Don’t play dumb!" Saotome screamed shrilly. "You ordered your men to do it! I’ll never forget that you used my finger as fish bait!"

Finally, a memory clicked. It happened at the office in Kabukicho. A drug-addicted dealer, who had been beaten, tried to escape and bumped into me, dirtying my clothes. I ordered my men to make him take responsibility. That was it. I hadn’t even looked closely at his bloodied face.

"So, you’re doing this because you hold a grudge about losing your finger?" I asked.

"Grudge?" Saotome tilted his head and cracked his neck. "Yeah, maybe you’ve forgotten, but I haven’t!"

He screamed in my face, spraying me with spit. This guy was as stupid as I thought. He lost his finger due to his own fault and held a grudge against me, even risking punishment from the organization to get to the boss’s son.

I didn’t recognize Saotome, the bald man, or the chubby guy named Shige who had left the room. Although they seemed like real yakuza, they could just be common thugs. Even if they were accomplices, loyalty would falter once money was involved. If I could bribe the bald man who seemed to be the leader, I might get out of this situation.

"Hey, you with the glasses," I said, ignoring Saotome and starting to negotiate with the bald man. "How much do you want?"

"Beating me up and stealing a bit of money will only cause big problems later. If you promise to stop the violence, I'll give you as much money as you want. Ten million, twenty million, name your price."

I hoped the amount I mentioned would make him switch sides. The bald man, still with his arms crossed, whistled.

"What do you think, Saotome?"

I expected him to get angry, but Saotome silently released his grip on my hair. He reached inside his jacket and, with the casualness of someone taking out a cigarette, pulled out "it."

What was gripped in Saotome's right hand was a gun. The barrel was long and thick, and the muzzle was pointed directly at my forehead. The sudden tangible presence of death right before me caused my mouth to go dry, and cold sweat to burst out from all over my body.

"Who needs money?" he muttered dismissively, placing his finger on the trigger. There was no emotion in his eyes. My body started to tremble as if I were naked and abandoned on a winter street. He was serious. This guy was genuinely willing to kill someone over a single finger.

"Pl...please... don't sh... sh... shoot..."

The sheer terror made my tongue fail me. The man with the deadly weapon smiled faintly.

"Don't worry. I won't kill you now."

Finally, the black barrel moved away from my forehead.

"A bullet to the head would be too easy!"

Saotome raised his right hand and swung the gun down in an arc, striking my temple. I let out a scream and fell to the right. He kicked me in the side, forcing me onto my stomach. My temple throbbed with pain. My side hurt—hurt so much I wanted to cry. Tears welled up in my eyes. Where was Kato when I needed him? Oh right, he was in Shizuoka. I had insisted he go, even though he was worried about leaving me alone.

"Raise your ass."

I didn’t understand what he was saying. I understood, but I couldn’t process it. When I didn’t move, he kicked my buttocks.

"Get on your knees and raise your ass!"

I couldn’t bear the pain any longer. The shame was secondary to the pain, so I did as I was told, raising my knees and lifting my hips. He grabbed my belt, and I thought he was going to drag me somewhere, but instead, he loosened it and pulled my trousers and underwear down to my knees.

The cold air on my bare skin was humiliating, like being punished as a child. Something cold pressed against the gap between my buttocks, at the very back. I shuddered violently.

"What are you doing?!"

When I tried to move, a hard object pressed against my back.

"Don’t move unless you want a bullet through your heart from behind."

His words paralyzed me. Even after the gun left my back, I remained as still as a stone. He forced something inside me. The sensation of an inanimate object invading me made me crawl forward inch by inch.

"Don’t run away."

He grabbed my thighs and pulled me back. The object mercilessly violated my insides. Unlike the usual thing, this was without lubricant, it scraped painfully.

"No, no, stop! It hurts!"

The hard object dug into my insides. As I writhed in pain, the bald man with glasses pinned my shoulders down from above. With my hands tied behind my back, I was immobilized once my upper body was pressed down.

"Sorry, Kaneyama."

"No problem."

The bald man with glasses, Kaneyama, tightened his grip on my shoulders.

"You look ridiculous. It’s like you’ve got a gun growing out of your ass."

I heard stifled laughter behind me.

"This guy is such a pervert, needing to be fucked with a strap-on. Kimijima said he was beyond help."

The name of the traitor. Kimijima, who was once a trusted henchman. I had ordered Yamada to kill him because I was fed up with his habit of skimming profits and his repulsive appearance. Yamada had let him escape and disappeared himself.

These men were connected to Kimijima and had gotten my information from him. That explained why they had ambushed me just before I entered the apartment. But would Kimijima, targeted by the Motohashi group, seek help from Saotome of the same group? If I were Kimijima, I would beg for my life from a group opposing the Motohashi group... It finally dawned on me.

Saotome must have abandoned the Motohashi group and joined another, an enemy group. Many unscrupulous lowlife yakuza wander from one gang to another, causing trouble wherever they go.

The sensation of something scraping against my insides brought me back to reality.

"If you enjoy being fucked by a strap-on, wouldn't you find pleasure in being fucked by a gun?" Kaneyama's voice intensified the movement inside me. The growing pain made me groan, "It hurts, it hurts." The tears in my eyes blurred my vision.

"Hey, take it easy on him. He's crying," someone said.

I felt the gun barrel start to withdraw, and my body relaxed. But just as I let my guard down, it was shoved back in deeply, making me choke out a cry.

"He moans like a woman," Kaneyama remarked, kneading my shoulder. The repulsive sensation of his fingers crawling up my spine made me squirm, but I couldn't escape.

"If you enjoy being violated, you're nothing but a bitch," Saotome said, pushing the gun deeper inside me, as far as it would go. "It's about time."

"I'm going to fire this inside your ass," he said, making my vision go blank.

"No, please, don't... I'm begging you..."

Saotome brought his mouth close to my ear. "When the bullet bursts inside you, your guts will be a mess. Heh."

The gun moved in circles inside me, torturing my terrified body.

"A shot in the ass won't kill you instantly," Kaneyama chimed in with a laugh. "Not like the head or the heart. You'll flop around like a fish out of water."

"You hear that?" Saotome grabbed my hair, forcing my face up. "Make sure you take a good look. This will be the last thing you see."

But what I saw was Kaneyama's crotch through his slacks. Wait... this must be a mistake. I am not supposed to die like this. I am supposed to lead the Motohashi group in the future. I cannot die humiliated by scum like this, with a gun up my ass, treated like a mating bitch.

"No, no, no..."

Fear poured out of my mouth, and then something inside me snapped. I screamed loudly, "No! No, no, no! Help me! Someone help me!"

My cries were met with laughter. The more I screamed, the more they laughed. I didn't want this. I didn't want to die. Not in such a miserable way. I didn't want the pain. I didn't want to feel pain. Someone, please help me. Anyone. Kill these guys. Help me, help me... Father, Mother, Kato... anyone...

"The countdown begins..."

"Three..."

My heart pounded, my jaw trembled. I wasn't supposed to die. I shouldn't die like this...

"Two."

Tears streamed down my face like waterfalls.

"Help me, help me, help me, help me... No, no, noooo..."

"One."

A voice shouted "Bang!" right by my ear.

"Hiyaaaaaaa!"

My body stiffened, my crotch trembled. An uncontrollable fear made piss flow from my crotch.

"Ugh, he pissed himself," Kaneyama said, stepping back. The fear-induced urine didn't stop, warming my thighs as it flowed with the sound of my release. I watched the scene in a daze. When I stopped urinating, the foreign object was pulled from my rear. My back was stepped on, pushing me into the puddle I had made. Overwhelmed by the smell of ammonia, I heard high-pitched laughter ringing above me.

The laughter spiraled around, disappearing and returning like a nightmare.

"Hey, Saotome, when are you going to kill him?" Kaneyama asked, exasperated.

"Not yet," Saotome replied. "This isn't enough. I'm going to take my time and torture him to death over the course of the night."

Saotome's foot twisted left and right on Soichi's back, creating a dull, twisting pain as it scraped against the skin.

"I don't care what you do, but let's change locations. If someone from the group shows up here, it'll be bad," Kaneyama suggested. If they moved me, no one would be able to come to my rescue...

"We're safe for tonight. All of his aides and the group's men are in Shizuoka for other matters. Besides, if we don't kill him here, we can't blame it on a robbery," Saotome replied.

"That's true, but..." Kaneyama's voice was slightly hoarse. "Well, whatever. No matter what cover story we come up with, they'll still think another group was involved. So before we start torturing him in earnest, can I borrow him for a bit?"

Kaneyama nudged me lightly with his foot.

"Wait, what?"

Saotome's voice sounded displeased.

"What, you don't want to?"

After a moment of silence, Saotome responded begrudgingly, "Alright."

Kaneyama grabbed my arm and pulled me up, but my knees were shaking from the shock of the "Bang!" right in my ear, and I couldn't stand properly. Kaneyama supported my body as he dragged me, my pants down and my jacket stained with urine.

"Where are you taking him?" Saotome demanded.

"Shut up. I'm just going to wash off his piss. I'm not into that smelly stuff."

Kaneyama dragged me into the bathroom. He poured hot water over my head as I crouched on the floor. I looked up at the bald man through the steam, realizing I was going to be killed if things continued like this.

"Help me..." My voice echoed weakly in the bathroom.

"I'll give you money... Help me... please..." I pleaded.

The water stopped as the tap was turned off, and Kaneyama squatted down, touching my wet cheek.

"You don't want to die, huh?" His voice was soft, almost secretive. I nodded vigorously, sensing a possible escape.

"I'll help you. But can you do what I say?" I had no choice but to nod. Kaneyama smiled slyly, unzipping his slacks and pulling out his penis. I swallowed hard. Even not erect, it was long and thick. The head was unnaturally round, suggesting he had silicone implants.

"Can you suck this?"

He brought it close to my face, and I instinctively pulled back. But it kept coming closer. As I backed away, I hit the bathtub and realized I had nowhere to go. When I lowered my face, he grabbed my hair and forced my head up. I was terrified of what was in front of me.

"I've never done it before!" I blurted out. He paused.

"You've never done it? Can't do it?"

Kaneyama released my hair and gently stroked my cheek. "Everyone has a first time. I'll teach you. Just do what I say. Stick out your tongue."

I didn't want to lick another man's penis, especially one that was dirty and unwashed. It made me nauseous. But my survival depended on this man. I didn't want to die. Pushing aside my disgust, I opened my mouth slightly and stuck out my tongue.

"Use your cute little tongue to lick the head, like a cat," he instructed.

I didn't want to, but I had to. I touched the tip of my tongue to his head. It was round and warm. Trying to minimize contact, I lightly licked it.

"Lick it more, with your whole tongue," he ordered, kicking my knee when he saw through my reluctance. I had no choice but to lick it more thoroughly. He seemed pleased, narrowing his eyes in satisfaction.

"Good. Now take the head into your mouth and suck it, making noise."

Though I had made women do this, I had never done it myself. But I had to. Living was all that mattered now. I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, sucking in the round head and making slurping noises to compensate for my lack of movement. As his penis grew in my mouth, the pre-cum's musky smell filled my nostrils, making me want to vomit. I forced myself to think of it as a sausage, licking and sucking the hot meat.

"You're good at this for a first-timer," he praised, but I felt no pride. I was doing it to survive. Normally, I wouldn't touch your crotch for a billion yen.

"Can you take it deeper? To your throat?"

Enduring the stench, I took the filthy thing deeper into my mouth. Just when I thought it was enough, he shoved it further in, his pubic hair scratching my nose.

"Mmph... gugh..."

I gagged, unable to breathe, as he thrust his hips back and forth, forcing his hot member deep into my throat. The intensity made it hard to breathe, and saliva overflowed, tears streaming down my face.

Finally, he pulled out, and warm, cloudy liquid splattered onto my face and chest. It had the smell of a young man's masculinity. I realized he had ejaculated on my face but couldn't wipe it off with my hands tied. The sticky fluid ran down my cheeks like tears.

Now... now he'll help me. I endured that filthy act; surely he'd save me now.

Kaneyama squatted in front of me, looking at me with a slimy gaze. Suddenly, he grabbed the collar of my soaked shirt and ripped it open. Buttons flew off, clattering across the floor.

"...Feels gross being all wet, huh?" Kaneyama's sickly sweet voice was even more unpleasant than the wet shirt. Eventually, my jacket and shirt were sliced open with a knife, leaving me stark naked as I was dragged back into the changing room. He threw me onto my back on the bathmat, spreading my legs wide. I felt a breeze on my crotch and had a bad feeling about the unfamiliar position.

The man positioned himself between my legs, and I knew what was coming. My whole body tensed up. I could tolerate sucking him off, but I couldn't stand the thought of a man using my anus. A strap-on wielded by a woman was one thing, but a real man's... I couldn't let a real man’s penis inside me. I was a man, after all. A man shouldn't be violated by another man. Absolutely not.

"No, no!"

I twisted my body, but such weak resistance couldn't deter him. His heavy, thick body pressed down on me, pinning me in place. The overwhelming difference in body size left me helpless.

"No, no, no!"

"Do you want to survive?" The man's voice echoed in my ear.

"Then stop resisting and stay still like a good little kitten. I'll make it quick," he said.

My body shook violently. Then the man licked my cheek with his warm tongue.

"You're as soft and pale as a woman. You even shiver like a virgin," he taunted, his moist right hand moving from my neck to my chest.

"Even here, it's pink like a peach," he said, pinching my nipples, making me want to cry from the humiliation. His thick fingers kneaded my nipple until it became red and swollen. I usually enjoyed having my nipples played with and often asked my lover, Reika, to do so.

"Your nipple is hardening. The son of a yakuza shouldn't be enjoying this," he mocked. Despite his rough treatment, my body reacted involuntarily. His hand slid lower, touching the area that had been roughly handled by the gun. I gasped as his fingers plunged inside without hesitation.

The movements were different. Reika's touch was delicate and careful, but this man's fingers were rough and hot, stirring my insides until they made squelching sounds.

"No, it hurts, it hurts!"

As I screamed, the man clicked his tongue in annoyance. He removed his weight from my body, and I thought he had given up, finding me too noisy. I turned on my side, curling into a ball, relieved.

The man stood by the sink, rummaging around before returning with a bottle. It was the lotion I used after washing my face. He grabbed my shoulder and turned me onto my back again, pouring the cold liquid onto my crotch. The lotion spilled over, making my scrotum shiver and contract. He smeared the lotion on his sinisterly erect penis, the white liquid dripping down its length like pre-cum.

My legs were spread wide apart. His intent was clear. I felt the hot member press against my entrance.

"No, no!"

But it was shoved in mercilessly.

"Ahhhh!"

The intense pressure drove me to arch my back in agony. Even with the lotion, the size was unbearable. I had never used such a large dildo, fearing it would be too much.

"How does it feel? My cock, big and tasty," he whispered filthy words, moving his hips. The sensation of my insides being churned heightened the pressure.

"Please, don't move... it hurts..."

His hips moved in a piston-like motion, our groins slapping together with loud smacks.

"Isn't the real thing better than a fake cock? And I'm doing it raw. You should be grateful."

Every thrust made my insides scream, tears welling up from the discomfort.

"Enjoy it while you can. This will be your last meal, you dirty slut," he panted above me. The friction inside was painful, my stomach hurt. I wished someone would end this torment.

My hips ached from being forcibly spread, and my thighs tingled with numbness. His movements became more violent, and with each thrust, obscene squelching noises filled the room, making my body shake like a ragdoll.

As he stirred inside me, his penis brushed against a spot that made my body jerk involuntarily, tightening around him reflexively.

"Huh?"

The man's movements stopped.

"You, do you feel it here?"

"No, it's not that."

When I was being teased by Reika, I would specifically focus on that spot with the dildo, and I would beg her to rub it strongly. But even though I denied it, the man laughed.

"Your pathetic little penis is getting hard, isn't it? Does it feel good here, huh?"

The best spot was being stimulated, and an electric current ran through my body. I couldn't hold back and let out a strained voice from my throat.

"You're really like a girl, aren't you?"

I didn't want to hear my own embarrassing voice, but my arms were restrained and I can’t cover my mouth. He was rubbing against me in a back and forth motion, and even though I tried to endure, my breathing became ragged. Eventually, even without him rubbing that spot, the man's movements alone were enough to give me a strange, tingling pleasure that spread throughout my body.

It feels... good. No, it's not that. It doesn't feel good. I don't want to feel pleasure from this disgusting man's penis. I'm definitely not feeling anything.

"Aah... aah... aah... nngh..."

The sweet, feminine moans were whose voice? I was being robbed of my freedom, being violated by this filthy man, and it was the ultimate humiliation, but an abnormal heat was building up in my waist, and my penis was getting hard and stiff like a rock.

"Aah... aah... aah..."

My upper body was shaking violently. Unlike the mechanical movements of the dildo, this was a hot, throbbing flesh. I was being consumed by the pleasure, my body trembling... and something deep in my memory was stirring. Something I shouldn't be seeing... the Pandora's box was opening.

"Stop, stop... please stop!"

The beast on top of me was laughing.

"I won't stop. What's with this penis?"

My swollen penis was being gripped tightly, and for a moment, my breath stopped. The pain was so intense that the heat building up inside me was seeking an outlet, like magma flowing through my groin.

"I'm coming, I'm coming... I'm coming!"

The pleasure amplified by the man was being released with his help. My body was shaking violently, and the man inside me let out an "erggggh" of pleasure.

"This is the best. Squeeze me tighter, come on."

My skin was tingling. It feels good, it feels good. The world in front of me was spinning, and my consciousness was separating from my body, retreating into the past. I was an elementary school student, in a hot summer garden. I was staring at the sweaty back of a newly recruited yakuza member who was doing yard work shirtless. I was captivated by the strange sensation I felt back then.

"It's just for you, young master."

The man who had just been released from prison boasted about his groin area. I stared at his penis, which had been implanted with a foreign object and was now misshapen.

In middle school, I would always gaze at the tall, athletic boy from the kendo club. When changing clothes for gym class, I would always try to catch a glimpse of his exposed back.

I know I'm interested in the same sex. But I can't acknowledge it. I'm a man who stands at the top of the organization. It's impossible, it can't be, that I would want to be violated by a man while standing at the top.

Ideal and reality. My slender body, similar to my mother's. I don't gain weight no matter how much I eat, and I don't build muscle no matter how much I exercise. My skin is pale, and my genitals are unimpressive. The masculine body I've always dreamed of is far beyond my reach.

I could accept being with a woman. If I was being violated with a strap-on, I could accept it. That way, I could just label it as a "perverse hobby" and my pride wouldn't be hurt. I was satisfied with this stance. That's all I needed...

But it's breaking. It's being destroyed. My internal self is being exposed, and my true nature is being dragged out. Yes, I didn't want a dildo; I wanted this. I wanted to be violated like a bitch by a powerful man, and I wanted to feel pleasure.

Since high school, when I masturbated by playing with my ass, I knew I was a bitch. The essence I had desperately tried to suppress was being brought to the surface by some unknown man's penis. I was being shaken, rubbed...

"Hey, your waist is shaking. Does it feel good?"

I didn't know what was happening to my body.

"You're a crazy bitch. I'll fill you up with semen."

The man let out a strange, nasal voice and shook his waist from back and forth. He came inside me... and didn't stop. I thought it was over, but the man's penis was still hard, and he continued to stir inside me.

"Aah, aah..."

I was drooling and panting, and then the door to the changing room opened. Two young men, Saotome and Shige, walked in. They saw me being violated by the man, and they exchanged a smirk. For a moment, I was awake, and my shame was so intense that I broke out in a cold sweat all over my body.

Kaneyama sat up. The two of them... were looking at me. I hated it. It was embarrassing. I was ashamed. I wanted to pull it out, but the man pushed his waist against me and said, "What's wrong, don't you want more of my cock?"

"...I thought you were done, but it looks like you're still going strong."

Saotome looked at me with an emotionless gaze.

"This thing feels better than I expected. Hey, why did Shige come in too?"

The young, slightly overweight man shrugged his shoulders.

"I brought some valuable goods to the car, and I finished my job. Saotome told me to come because he was going to kill him soon."

Saotome glanced at my crotch and clicked his tongue.

"That guy is hard, isn't he? What are you trying to do by pleasing him with your big thing?"

I was ashamed to be seen being violated and feeling pleasure, but my penis wouldn't go down. My emotions were all mixed up - shame, embarrassment, excitement, pleasure... I didn't know what was going on.

Kaneyama picked up my own pathetic, erect penis and shook it from side to side like a toy, saying, "I'm a man with a strong service spirit, so..." and smiling slyly.

"Stop, stop..."

I begged, but he wouldn't stop playing with my genitals, pulling and stroking them.

"If you don't like it, then make it go soft. You're still hard even though you're being violated by a man and having your dick seen by others. You're a natural-born pervert, aren't you?"

I have a bit of an exhibitionist streak. I'm ashamed to be seen, but I still feel pleasure. And it's still like this even now...

"Is that... are you really sticking your dick in his ass?"

Shige peeks at the connected groin area.

"I'm serious. Want to see?"

My scrotum is lifted, and the part that has been widely opened is exposed. I let out an involuntary "Ahhh!" of shock.

Shige gulps.

"That's so cool~ It's a guy's ass but it's making me horny."

"Are you gay?"

Saotome hits Shige on the head, and Shige winces in pain.

"Something's wrong with that guy... he's thin and feminine, and weirdly erotic... what's going on, I'm seriously messed up..."

Kaneyama put his hands around Soichi's back and pulled him up forcefully. The angle of his penis inside him changed, and it rubbed against his stomach.

"Uggh!"

I'm held in Kaneyama's lap, facing him, and my buttocks are spread wide.

" How's that? If I do this, you can get a good look at his hole with my dick in it really well."

My private parts are exposed, and my body trembles with shame.

"Stop it... stop..." I begged. He said he would help, and he promised to save me if I did as I was told. So why is he humiliating me? Please let me go quickly... quickly...

"Don't tease me anymore, please... I'm seriously getting turned on..." Shige mutters with a mix of laughter and frustration.

Then Kaneyama, as if to show off, traces the area around the spread part with his finger. The sensitive rim is rubbed with a gentle touch. Even in this situation, a faint numbness runs down my back. After being stroked repeatedly, a finger is twisted and pushed in further.

"No, no." The part that has been opened to its limit is about to be opened even wider, and I shake my waist in protest. The finger movement doesn't stop. It's painful. It hurts. And yet, it's increased to two fingers. The semen that has been released comes out, and the movement becomes smooth, making a squelch sound that's embarrassing to hear.

"Su, sorry..."

Shige cries out.

"Can I pull out while watching here?"

"You can touch him too."

That's not what we agreed! You said you would help me if I sucked your penis. The same goes for this sexual intercourse. That's why I'm enduring the shame and humiliation.

"Y-you promised me... didn't you?"

I looked up at Kaneyama and pleaded with trembling lips. Then, unexpectedly, I was met with a gentle gaze.

"Just hold on for a moment," he whispered in my ear.

"B-but..."

"...I'll find an opportunity to get you out of here soon. So just keep moaning cutely for me," Kaneyama whispered.

But... if he's going to help me, why would he let that man use me? It didn't make sense. This guy must be lying. I felt a presence behind me and a hand touching my body.

"Wow, he's so pale and smooth," a crude voice said as someone squeezed my side, sending a shiver down my spine. I felt a tongue on my neck and fingers pinching my erect nipples. Meanwhile, the man inside me kept thrusting. The combination of movements, all unpredictable, overwhelmed my mind.

"Ah, no... no..."

Moans escaped my lips uncontrollably. The excitement of the man behind me was evident in his heavy breathing.

"Oh man, this is too good."

Shige was greedily rubbing his obviously hardened member against my ass, which was filled up by Kaneyama. The fingers inside me increased again.

"Stop it! Stop it!" I cried, but they didn't stop. The fingers inside me multiplied, reaching four. It was too much; I lost sense of that part of my body. Terrified, I clung to Kaneyama, the man causing me pain. As Kaneyama spread my hole with his fingers, he murmured, " Shige, you want in here too?"

"If he's this soft, we can both fit," Kaneyama said.

"No way!" Shige exclaimed. I was horrified too. This was no joke. It wouldn't work. I had once been into anal stretching, curious about how big a strap-on I could handle. Stretching allowed me to take reasonably large dildos, but enjoying it was a different matter. I preferred average sizes, slightly rough.

"I have to say, I'm pretty big. Won't he die?" Shige sounded worried.

"Doesn't matter," Kaneyama laughed it off. "He's going to die anyway... so come on."

A declared death sentence. I had been deceived.

"No, stop! I really don't want this! Stop!" I screamed, but no one came to my aid. Saotome watched with a faint smile. As I writhed, Kaneyama held me tightly. Another burning, hot erection pressed against my already stretched hole. The feeling of the hard, slippery tip made me physically recoil with disgust.

"No, no... this won't work. It will tear me apart," I shouted.

Shige hesitated, pulling back. "Maybe it's not possible."

"Don't listen to him," Kaneyama reassured, patting my head like a crying child. "But it'll be no fun if it tears, so if you want to enjoy it, put it in slowly."

"Alright," Shige agreed reluctantly.

He pushed in ruthlessly. The intense pressure and a sharp pain like being torn apart that followed were unbearable.

"It hurts! It hurts!" I shrieked, and Shige paused. As I calmed, he pushed in again. My lower abdomen felt stretched to bursting, and I felt something rise in my throat.

"No, no, no... noooo!" I screamed in agony.



As Soichi cried and screamed, he heard Shige's excited voice.

"Amazing, amazing! The second one really fits. Who knew an asshole could stretch this much? This is incredible!"

Every time Shige moved, pain shot through Soichi's brain. I'm going to die... Soichi trembled, his jaw quivering.

"Show me those two dicks inside him. I'm going to film it," Saotome ordered. Shige changed his angle, causing Soichi to scream as the movements twisted and scraped inside him.

"Shut up, you're too loud," Kaneyama grumbled, clicking his tongue. Then, Soichi's cries were muffled as a towel was shoved into his mouth. I'm going to die. They'll use me, torture me, and kill me. I wish I could just die now. The pain, the agony, it was unbearable.

The situation of being taken by two men seemed to excite them further, as Kaneyama's movements became more violent. The two brutal rods stirred him up, causing the area to tear and bleed. They reveled in the slickness, their movements becoming even more frenzied.

The searing pain from being violated surged up from inside him, feeling like hell itself. Soichi blacked out from the agony, wishing he could die in that state. But the excruciating pain in his right foot brought him back to consciousness.

His right foot was being held, and Saotome was gripping a pair of pliers he had found somewhere. The pliers clamped down on his toenail and yanked it off in one swift motion. Soichi's body convulsed in pain, tightening around Kaneyama and Shige, which only excited them more.

Soichi screamed voicelessly, tears streaming down his face. The toenail pulling was repeated at intervals, causing him to lose control of his bladder multiple times.

When several more nails had been pulled and the pliers' tip pierced the exposed nail bed, Soichi finally lost consciousness.

The next time he woke up, he was in a hospital bed. Kato, worried about the lack of the nightly check-in call, had sent the group members to his apartment. Soichi didn't know about the rescue or that the panicked men had shot him in the thigh before fleeing.

After hours of extensive surgery, his life was saved without lasting damage. It took six months for the wound on his thigh and the ripped nails, as well as the assaulted rectum, to heal. Though no one in the group mentioned it, they all knew what kind of assault he had suffered. Their silence was a source of humiliation and pain.

During his hospital stay, Kato captured Saotome and the other two men.

"I took care of all of them," Kato reported succinctly. They were gone, never to appear again. But the nightmares persisted. The memories of having his anus torn by a man's penis and his nails ripped out returned repeatedly.

"Mr. Soichi," Kato's voice brought him back to the present. Soichi opened his eyes with a start, letting out a small scream. Kato looked down at him with concern.

"Sorry to scare you. Your meal is here. Can you eat?"

"Ah... yeah," Soichi replied, sitting up on the sofa. Another bad dream... Even though five years had passed, the nightmares still haunted him.

I had lost my appetite, but the savory aroma of the consommé soup tickled my nostrils, prompting me to pick up the spoon.

"Aren't you hungry?" I asked, bringing the soup to my lips.

"I took turns with the others to eat during the meeting," Kato replied, sitting across from me, staring intently. He should have been doing something else, but his gaze made me uncomfortable, as if I were being watched.

"You go take a shower," I said, trying to politely dismiss him.

"No, I'll go later," he replied, ever the loyal watchdog.

"Just go. I want to eat alone," I insisted.

Finally, his tall figure disappeared into the bathroom. I let out a breath. Ever since that attack at my apartment, I had been traumatized, unable to stay alone even in supposedly safe rooms.

I couldn't be alone without going insane. I moved into a state-of-the-art security apartment, replacing all the windows with bulletproof glass. Yet, I never felt truly safe.

I always had bodyguards nearby and had the house checked before entering. Despite all these measures, anxiety consumed me, making it impossible to sleep alone.

I heard footsteps in the hallway. Even in this high-class room, the sound echoed, making my back shiver. The bodyguards were outside the door. If something happened, the commotion would start there first.

I approached the door, checking the chain and lock, but I still felt uneasy. What if someone came in through the window? No, that’s impossible; I’m on the twenty-second floor. But the windows aren't bulletproof. If someone targeted me from outside... I immediately turned off the lights. If it’s dark, I won’t be a target. But what if they come in through the window from the next room...

Even knowing it was irrational, my paranoia wouldn’t stop. The nails on my feet, perfectly regrown, began to throb with pain. Just as I thought this was bad, the memory of being torn apart flashed through my mind.

The pain, the smell of semen... help me. Help me. I don't want to hurt.

Unable to bear it any longer, I ran into the bathroom in the dark. Kato, in the shower stall, turned around, soap still covering him, and stepped out into the changing area.

"What happened?"

I stood there, leaning against the door.

"Can I... stay here?"

My voice was barely audible, on the verge of tears. The wet man stared at me intently.

"Of course. You can sit on the chair..."

I hastily stopped him from getting the chair.

"No, it's fine as it is. I'll calm down in a bit. Don’t mind me."

Kato remained silent for a moment before returning to the shower stall, saying, "I'll rinse off the soap." I slid down the door to sit, hugging my knees. Watching the dependable man’s back, the flashbacks began to fade.

The sense of security and the sound of water, like raindrops, felt soothing. As the warmth spread from deep within me, I watched his muscular body through the steam. I averted my gaze, trying to ignore the throbbing in my groin, and curled up even smaller.



Unlike the usual thing, this was without lubricant, it scraped painfully. 
"No, no, stop! It hurts!" (From the text)

Footnotes

0. Content warning: NSFW, physical and sexual abuse, mention of child molestation, r*pe, torture.

Comments

  1. I screamed so loudly when I saw you translated everything at once!!! I’m so excited!! Thank you so much!

    And woah. I had the exact same thoughts when reading that scene. Konohara, who gave us nothing but a short r*pe scene in utsukushii koto, really wrote this really long a detailed scene?!? I’m speechless.. my heart is heavy and I had to give myself a minute to remind myself to breathe and unclench my teeth. Literally everything I feared would happen did. I give her props for creativity but lord, that was a really tough read towards the end. I do appreciate it though, as hard as it was to read, it really shows how traumatic the event was and I’m curious how he will cope going forward. Is it bad to say I think it’s commendable how she didn’t shy away from the details despite her usual type of works. I’m ready for the romance and the angst though, now that this is out of the way. I’m glad you didn’t drop it! It gets better from here right? 😭

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    1. You're very welcome 💕 I wanted to get everything done before my break was over, and I'm glad it worked out! I'm still not over the shock of this first chapter. It seems like it's a recurring theme in her novels, because in Disgusting Guy and Hako no Naka there were r*pe scenes too, but they were not as detailed. I'm still traumatized 😰 All I can say is strap in because this novel is so different from what we're used to from her that I'm starting to question if I want to risk translating another of her works 😢

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    2. Ah!! Nooo 😭 Please continue translating her works!! Your translations are so beautiful and high quality, and nobody has translated her works in such a long time… you are our ray of hope!!!

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    3. Awww thank you so much 💕 without feedback I wasn't sure whether I was doing a good job 😅 but I'm glad you like my translations!!
      After thinking about it for days I decided to give it one more try and I found a Konohara's novel I'm very excited about, the ML is just a ray of sunshine (fingers crossed there's no surprises lol)

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  2. I love the translation, so thanks. This is my second time reading this, I love that Konohara-San is setting the stage for Soichi and Kato's loving relationship. I loved how soft and caring Kato is towards Soichi, in this first chapter I think Soichi definitely finds Kato attractive. The focus on power, sexuality, and masculinity is really strong. On the first read I thought Soichi's confusion about who he was, came from the assualt, but I see it came from Soichi's upbringing. The assualt seems to be a consequence of being a Yakuza, the consequence of living in a violent crime organization.... Also the focus of pain and pleasure, of pain being pleasure and vice versa...Soichi is giving me big masochist vibes. As far as the assualt scene, I've noticed that Konohara-San is very intentional with her word choice, writing, characters and scenes. The scene is long and drawn out and painful and hard to read, because it will parallel the journey that Soichi goes through, througout the novel. He will continue to go through humiliation, embarrassment, pain and then finally pleasure....

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    1. Hi D~ thank you so much for your in-depth analysis; I love that you were able to see things from another perspective! To be honest, I was so shaken up while reading this novel that I couldn't pick up on all these nuances, so thank you! I agree that Soichi seems to thrive on that power dynamic with Kato—he enjoys having Kato under his control, while also relying deeply on Kato’s affection.

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