Nibiiro no Hana: Chapter 17

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He woke while it was still dim outside. The man who should have been beside him wasn’t there. Hugging a pillow, he buried his face in it, intending to drift back to sleep. Just then, the door opened—Dan Carter returned. Naked, he sat down at the edge of the bed and drank from a plastic water bottle. Watching him, Sagawa found himself feeling thirsty too.

Perhaps noticing his gaze, Dan silently held out the bottle. The chilled water seeped through his throat and body with pleasant ease.

After Sagawa handed it back, Dan placed the bottle on the bedside table and slid under the sheets. He wrapped his arms around Sagawa from behind like a body pillow and mumbled, “One more hour.”

It had been nearly a year since Sagawa started sleeping with Dan Carter, the president of Eric & Ronald’s Japan branch. Sex with a man had been uncharted territory, but to his surprise, it had felt good. He didn’t need to do much—his partner took care of everything. No matter how awkward the positions or how embarrassing the acts, there was no one watching, no record being made. That made it easier not to care.

…Two years ago, Sagawa had been invited to a group date by a senior from university. It was a three-on-three with women who worked for foreign companies. At twenty-five, he was the youngest among the participants, while all the women were older. At first, he’d felt a bit deflated—nearly thirty?—but a woman named Haranishi, just one year older than him, was attractive in a clean, understated way, and he’d started to warm up to her. It seemed like the feeling was mutual. Conversation flowed easily until he happened to mention, “I’m in sales at the Japan branch…”

“You work at the Japan branch of Eric & Ronald?” Haranishi asked, confirming.

“Ah, yeah. I was hired locally.”

Haranishi exchanged glances with the woman next to her, then shrugged. From that point on, she turned her attention to the senior beside him, leaving Sagawa stranded in silence. At the time, he hadn’t understood what had caused the sudden chill.

The mixer had ended without much spark. “Sorry, we’ve got an early morning tomorrow,” one of the women said, and that was that—no second round. Sagawa parted ways with his senior and headed to the subway station alone. As he leaned against the wall on the platform and fiddled with a game on his phone, he suddenly heard a familiar voice nearby: “That mixer just now was totally a bust, huh?”

Startled, he glanced up.

About five meters away, near where the train would stop, stood Haranishi and the other woman from the mixer. They had their backs to him, completely unaware of his presence.

“I was kind of excited when I heard they were from foreign companies like us, but the whole thing was a letdown. One of the guys was using a wallet so cheap it looked like it cost a hundred yen,” one of the women said.

“Oh yeah, I remember him,” the other replied.

They were talking about the senior who had invited Sagawa to the mixer. Sagawa had also noticed the wallet, but since the guy seemed fond of it, he hadn’t said anything.

“There was that cute guy with glasses, but he was younger, and besides, Eric & Ronald’s Japan branch is independent—so it’s not even really a foreign company.”

That was about him. Haranishi’s comment made the woman next to her laugh.

“It was a trap, honestly. Did he think he could get away with it? If it’s the Japan branch of Eric & Ronald, a bank employee would earn more.”

“If headquarters employees are the real full-timers, then branch employees are basically like part-timers.”

Sagawa’s hand, still holding his smartphone, began to tremble. He couldn’t move his fingers, and the game on screen closed on its own.

“I don’t care how cute or nice a guy is—if he earns less than me, I can’t date him. I don’t want to deal with drama over income differences after we start going out,” Haranishi declared.

The train arrived, and the two women boarded. Sagawa stayed where he was, head bowed, waiting for the train to pass. He felt humiliated, frustrated—he could barely hold back his tears. Unable to contain his emotions, he shouted, “Who the hell are you calling part-time!” and hurled his smartphone against the platform floor. A nearby high school girl in a blazer flinched and moved away quickly.

But he immediately regretted it. His phone was broken and had to be replaced, which only made him angrier. He knew foreign companies paid well—he had applied to several, and failed at all of them. The only place that had accepted him was Eric & Ronald’s Japan branch—the same company those women had just referred to as a “trap.” It wasn’t a bad company at all, but to high earners like them, it was no more than “part-time.”

Ever since that mixer, “foreign company girls” had become a sort of trauma. And as long as Sagawa remained “an employee at Eric & Ronald’s Japan branch,” it was a stigma he couldn’t shake. The only way to break free of it would be to be headhunted by Eric & Ronald’s headquarters—but that was something reserved for top-tier department heads, once every few years. As a twenty-something rank-and-file employee, he had no chance.

About half a year after the mixer, a rumor started circulating: headquarters was going to transfer one young employee from the Japan branch to the main office. The first person that came to Sagawa’s mind was his fellow sales rep, Tennoji Jō. Tennoji had the best sales record, excellent people skills, and spoke English at a native level. Sagawa wouldn’t say it aloud, but he always thought Tennoji was overqualified for their company. And deep down, he resented the fact that if it weren’t for Tennoji, he would’ve been the top sales rep.

“There’s a rumor that Tennoji’s getting transferred to HQ,” Toichi said once when they were together in the smoking room. “Apparently, Betty from HQ really likes him. People are saying that kind of favoritism might be affecting personnel decisions.”

Sagawa had never considered the idea of cozying up to someone from headquarters to get a leg up. When he heard that, it was like a lightbulb went on: That’s the move.

“Well, sounds like Betty’s the only one pushing it. Doesn’t seem like Tennoji’s interested,” Toichi said, exhaling a cloud of smoke with a half-smile.

Betty Dawn was the head of the management division, sent over from the New York headquarters. She was a thirty-year-old single woman of Mexican-American descent, with a dusky complexion, a prominent brow, and full lips—a striking face. Sagawa had met her a few times for work, but honestly, she was the kind of woman he wasn’t great with. His English was fine for travel, but not for business-level discussions, and she’d made no effort to hide her irritation whenever he asked for clarification. Still…

“If getting transferred to headquarters is on the table, I’d sleep with any woman,” he said. It wasn’t a joke—it was his real, unfiltered thought.

“Same. They say the salary’s three times higher. But aside from Betty and the president’s secretary, all the staff at HQ are men, right?”

As they chatted, Toichi suddenly said, “Oh yeah, I just remembered,” and stubbed out the last of his cigarette.

“The Japan branch’s president now is that guy, Dan Carter, right?”

The Japan branch’s president was typically dispatched from the New York headquarters, rotating every two to three years. It was said to be a standard career step on the path to promotion. The year Sagawa joined, the president was a man; the following year, a woman took over; and last year, Dan Carter had assumed the role.

“Apparently, Dan used to be the regional director for Asia in the overseas division. He was too high up to be assigned to a small post like the Japan branch, but he came here chasing some guy he liked.”

“I’ve heard that story too, but it’s gotta be a joke, right?”

When Sagawa first saw Carter at his appointment ceremony, the man had been tall, with flawless posture and a face so refined he could have been an actor. The previous branch president had been a cheerful, down-to-earth Black woman with a warm demeanor, but Carter was imposing—cool and expressionless. It was hard to believe someone like that would abuse his authority and relocate to Japan just for love.

“Apparently the gay part is true. And the guy he chased? Some dude in his sixties. And in the end, he got dumped. Hilarious, right?”

“Ugh.” Sagawa stuck out his tongue in disgust.

“That’s what makes it even funnier. Ivy League grad, fluent in French, Chinese, and Japanese—top of the top—and yet so tragically stupid.”

At the time, they both laughed it off. But that night, Sagawa found himself thinking about it again.

He’d always believed the only way to get into headquarters was to excel in sales, climb the ranks, and get noticed by someone upstairs. But if the branch president was gay, maybe there was another way—a more physical approach. If the rumor was true—that Carter had fallen for a man in his sixties—then someone in their twenties like Sagawa should be an easy win.

He recalled the humiliating mixer, the women from foreign firms who had laughed at him, dismissed him. He wanted to prove them wrong. The status of a headquarters employee, the high salary—things that might take ten years of effort to obtain—if all of that could be his after a few nights with a man… wasn’t it worth the price?

Sagawa pulled out a pocket mirror and looked at his face. He wasn’t movie-star level, but his head was on the smaller side, his features were well-balanced. Not too big, not too small. He often got compliments from older women at client visits—“You’re handsome,” or “What a good-looking guy.” If Dan Carter only went for supermodels, Sagawa wouldn’t stand a chance. But if Carter was the kind of guy to get dumped after chasing an old man’s ass, Sagawa’s level of looks might be more than enough.

“…Maybe it’s worth a shot.”

In his cramped one bedroom apartment, Sagawa stared up at the ceiling and murmured to himself. First, he had to figure out how to approach Dan Carter and start a conversation.

The very next day, he began casually bringing up Dan Carter in conversation with coworkers and supervisors, trying to gather intel. But access to the president was limited, and few had anything meaningful to share. The only useful detail came from the sales manager, who mentioned, “I heard he’s into triathlons and goes running every morning.”

Sagawa already knew that Carter lived in a luxury apartment for foreigners in Roppongi. So, he put on brand-new running shoes and workout gear, caught the first train, and loitered near the building. No luck the first day. The second day was a bust too. Starting to suspect the sales manager had fed him false info, he decided to try one last time—but again, nothing.

He felt ridiculous pretending to be a jogger, and his frustration boiled over. He was about to give up and head to the subway when raindrops started falling—first a few, then a sudden downpour like someone had overturned a bucket. He darted under the awning of a closed café nearby.

Taking off his wet glasses, he wiped the lenses before putting them back on. The station was still a bit of a walk away. He could buy an umbrella from a convenience store, but he'd be soaked before even reaching one. He just wanted to get on the train and head home to change. As he stood there, stuck in indecision, a man in running gear dashed under the awning beside him.

He was tall and wore a hooded parka pulled over his head. As the man shook the water from his head, droplets splattered against Sagawa’s cheek. Already in a foul mood from the string of failures, Sagawa reacted irritably to the minor inconvenience and clicked his tongue loudly on purpose.

The man pulled down his hood and turned around. His skin was shockingly pale—clearly a foreigner. And those green eyes…

“Did I splash you? I’m terribly sorry,” the man said, in fluent Japanese. His wet hair clung to his forehead, softening his usual appearance—but there was no mistaking it. It was Dan Carter.

He gave a slight bow of apology and glanced at his watch. This was Sagawa’s chance—he couldn’t let it slip by.

“The rain’s really coming down, huh?” Sagawa said, trying to sound casual while hiding his nerves.

“Yes. I’d hoped to get back before it started, but I didn’t make it in time.” Dan ran his hand through his wet hair, still checking the time.

“You’re Dan Carter, right?”

Dan turned toward him, scrutinizing Sagawa’s face as though analyzing a data set.

“Have we met before?”

It was no surprise that a company president wouldn’t remember a mere rank-and-file employee.

“Yes, a while ago,” Sagawa replied, offering a friendly smile.

Dan apologized. “I’m sorry, I can’t recall your name.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

If Dan didn’t realize he was a coworker, that was perfect. No risk even if he blew this. And with no one else around, it was just the two of them—he could be bold.

“Are you seeing anyone right now?”

The formality in Dan’s demeanor vanished. He stared at Sagawa, eyes suddenly filled with a raw intensity that no man had ever directed at him before.

“No.”

So he was single. Sagawa would have gone after him anyway, but no existing boyfriend meant fewer complications.

“Do you find me attractive?”

Dan’s gaze slowly crawled over him from head to toe, thick and deliberate. Sagawa could feel himself being assessed.

 

"At this moment, it’s neither a yes nor a no."

That answer stung more than he expected. Am I really losing to some guy in his sixties? The shock of it was real. So he’s into older men? Still, it hadn’t been a "no." Sagawa forced himself to bounce back.

"Doesn’t it get lonely at night without a boyfriend? If you’d like, I can keep you company… though not for free."

It seemed his intentions came across clearly. The man folded his arms and asked, “How much for one night?” There was a glint of scorn in his eyes that hadn’t been there a moment before—but it was too late to back out now.

"I don’t want money. In exchange, I’d like a guarantee that no matter the outcome, I won’t be punished for proposing this."

"Roundabout and a pain in the ass," the man muttered, suddenly looking as though he’d lost interest. This is bad, Sagawa thought, and without thinking he grabbed the man’s right wrist. Even wet from the rain, his skin was hot. Dan glanced between the hand gripping him and Sagawa’s face, then spoke in a low voice.

“What is it you want?”

"To be transferred to the Eric & Ronald headquarters."

A furrow formed between Dan’s brows. “So you’re a branch employee,” he asked with suspicion. Sagawa didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks, but he couldn’t keep hiding the truth now.

"Yes, I am."

Dan pulled his hand away, and the moment Sagawa felt that cool detachment, he became certain he’d failed. Dan checked his watch once more.

“Time’s up. I’ll follow up with you about this later.”

He pulled his hood back over his head and ran off into the downpour. Watching the figure shrink in the rain, Sagawa’s heartbeat slowly picked up, pounding harder and harder until it felt like it might explode. What the hell have I done? He had just tried to trade his body for leverage with the company president. I’m a damn idiot. A delusional moron. Punishment might come—like immediate dismissal.

His current salary wasn’t bad at all, and now he might lose everything over a five-minute gamble. If he were fired, it’d be tough to find a better job than this. Standing under that torrential rain, the weight of what he’d done began to truly crush him.

He came home soaked and dragged himself into work the next day in total despair. He kept flinching, bracing for the moment when a supervisor would pull him aside and hand him his dismissal papers. But the day went on as usual—morning meeting, email checks, preparing materials for tomorrow’s conference, afternoon client meetings.

By lunch, his optimism returned. Maybe that foreign president decided to just let it slide. They worked on different floors, and based on past patterns, the man would probably be recalled to America in under two years. Once he was gone, he’d likely forget the name of some no-name branch employee who propositioned him in the rain.

That afternoon, just as Sagawa was feeling more composed, he opened his inbox. A new message had arrived. The sender: Dan Carter.

His entire body froze. When did he even learn my name? Sagawa almost shut the laptop right then and there. He left the office for outside rounds, but the unread email gnawed at him the entire time.

Eventually, he cut his meetings short and returned to the office a little after three. Resigned to being fired—maybe even berated—he opened the message.

All it contained was the date, time, a restaurant name, and the note: Reservation under Dan Carter.

He’d been summoned—personally. It was terrifying, beyond terrifying. He didn’t want to go. Sagawa opened a reply window for the email and started typing excuses: he wasn’t feeling well, he had plans that evening… but each time he deleted the message. Deep down, he already knew that even if he used some temporary excuse now, he’d be stuck in the same loop once another message came. There was no way out.

A low-level employee trying to seduce a gay company president with his body—it had been a ridiculous idea from the start. The rumor about Carter chasing after an old man had just made it seem like the bar was lower than it really was. But Sagawa had to face him now, just to say the whole thing was a joke. That was the best solution, wasn’t it? Still, what if Carter got angry? Why had he gone through the trouble of making a reservation at a restaurant just to talk? What exactly did he plan to say, alone together?

In the end, Sagawa never replied to the email. He kept wavering until the last possible moment. By the time he made up his mind, it was already too late to send a polite cancellation. Resigned, he dragged his heavy feet onto the train and headed for the designated meeting place.

The restaurant, Ikōri in Nishiazabu, was a creative Japanese spot with a members-only policy and all private rooms. The floor was laid in intricate parquet, the ochre-colored walls were mixed with something like straw, giving the space a distinct traditional air. It felt old, yet modern. Quiet. Sophisticated. There were sliding doors spaced evenly along the hallway, each presumably leading to a private room, but no voices leaked out. It was the perfect place to have a conversation one didn’t want overheard.

The room he was led to was about 4.5 tatami mats in size—roughly 7.4 square meters—and had table seating. Dan Carter was already there, seated on the right side. It occurred to Sagawa that, as the junior, he should’ve been the one to arrive first and wait, but it was too late for that now.

He hadn’t felt it when Carter was in running gear, but now, wearing a navy suit and with his hair neatly styled, the man radiated the same commanding presence he had when Sagawa first saw him. That aura—it was suffocating. He could hardly meet the man’s eyes.

“S-sorry to keep you waiting.”

“I just arrived myself,” Carter replied, setting his menu on the table.

“Sagawa Ryousuke.”

He used his full name. Sagawa swallowed nervously.

“Do you have any food preferences?”

“Ah, no… not really.”

“I’ll order the course menu. Is that acceptable?”

“Y-yes, of course.”

“I plan to have them pair drinks with the food. But if you prefer something else, we can change it.”

“No, that’s fine.”

Once the server left and slid the door shut behind them, they were alone. Carter’s presence seemed to fill every corner of the room, making it hard to breathe. Sweat prickled under Sagawa’s arms.

“Why don’t you take a seat?” Carter said.

He missed the right moment and remained standing there, blankly. “S-Sorry,” Sagawa apologized as he awkwardly took a seat across from him. He had the distinct feeling Carter was watching his every move with cold, detached eyes… which somehow brought to mind the face of that foreign company woman from the group date—her sudden shift in attitude had become a lasting trauma.

A ringtone cut through the silence. It was the Carter’s phone. “Excuse me,” he said before answering. The words that rolled fluently from his lips were likely French. Sagawa had scoffed at the idea of a man who chased after some elderly guy to Japan, but that was only because the man in question wasn’t right in front of him. Sitting at the same table now, Sagawa was keenly aware that this was someone on an entirely different level—someone he should never have presumed to make light of.

As if waiting for the end of the call, the aperitif was brought in. There was no toast. Carter silently raised his glass and drank. Sagawa’s hand trembled as he picked up his own glass, his nerves making it hard to hold steady. Carter, in contrast, moved with such calm that it felt like Sagawa didn’t even exist to him.

“The continuation of this morning’s conversation,” Carter began suddenly.

Startled, Sagawa set down his glass and clasped his hands together on the table.

“Is the condition you proposed—being transferred to the head office—still unchanged?”

“Well, yes.”

“Then, what value do you think you bring that would warrant being transferred to the head office?”

He didn’t understand the question.

“Value…? What do you mean exactly?”

“Exactly what I said—value. Whether in monetary terms, or number of sexual encounters, I don't care.”

The number that popped into his head was twenty thousand yen. That was about the going rate at a brothel. But to suggest his value was twenty thousand yen was far too low—absurdly cheap. And if he said that out loud, Carter would almost certainly sneer, That’s all you think you’re worth? On the other hand, what was the appropriate number to say?

“Do you have a number in mind?”

Carter gave a shrug.

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t know you. I can’t assign value to something when I don’t know if it tastes good or not. That’s why I’m asking for your self-assessment.”

It was hard to come up with a number when he thought of it as his own worth. But if he flipped the question—how much would he be willing to pay to make this man move—maybe that would be easier. Three hundred thousand… five hundred thousand… As he wavered, his eyes caught the man’s wristwatch. Simple design, but the brand’s logo was unmistakable. If a man like him could wear something that expensive on a daily basis, then a few hundred thousand yen probably meant little. If money didn’t matter, then the only thing that could truly satisfy a man like this might be his body. Sex.

The appetizers arrived. Carter didn’t seem the least bit concerned about the silence on Sagawa’s end and simply began eating. Still unable to give an answer—and growing increasingly uncomfortable—Sagawa also reached for his chopsticks. At first, nerves dulled his sense of taste, but once the alcohol began to settle him, he realized the food was surprisingly good. Subtle, but with rich umami flavor.

He remembered the time he homestayed in the U.S. as a student for two weeks. The food at the host family’s house had been disastrously bad, leaving him with the impression that Americans had crude palates. But clearly, someone at the executive level of a food company had a much more refined sense of taste.

“Chemistry matters too,” Carter said suddenly.

Sagawa panicked and swallowed the carrot in his mouth a little too quickly.

“There’s always the option to try it once, then renegotiate.”

“Hold on. If the trial doesn’t go well, I’m the only one who loses here.”

Carter furrowed his brows openly, but Sagawa didn’t back down. This part mattered.

“If we don’t move forward after one time, I’ll still pay a reasonable amount. You name the price.”

He had to decide—his own going rate for a one-time sale of his body. That damn number—twenty thousand yen—kept circling in the back of his mind, but there was no way he’d go that low. It wasn’t even a woman he’d be with, so it was guaranteed to be unenjoyable. Still, asking too much might provoke the man into demanding even more, thinking I paid this much, so I expect this much.

“Think it over before we reach the hotel.”

Carter returned to his meal. Sagawa didn’t dare press the topic again, but clearly, they were headed to a hotel after this. Crap. He hadn’t expected things to escalate this fast. He hadn’t mentally prepared himself at all.

He stole an upward glance at Carter. He was really about to sleep with this guy. The moment the realization hit, his nerves spiked again, and food wouldn’t go down. Pull yourself together, he told his cowardly self. This is your chance. If he could make a good impression here, he’d land a HQ office title and a major salary boost. But no matter how big the reward, sex with a man was a complete unknown.

The main dish was Saga beef, but he barely touched it. When they left the restaurant, he had to resist the overwhelming urge to run. Before he could act on it, Carter had already hailed a taxi, leaving Sagawa with no choice but to get in. They sat in the back seat, spaced apart by an awkward void. He couldn’t bring himself to flee, nor could he decide on a price for himself, and in just ten minutes, the taxi pulled up to a luxury hotel entrance.

As they entered the lobby, a concierge approached and greeted the man.

“Welcome back, Mr. Carter.”

“Two guests for tonight. Use the usual grade room. If it’s not available, I’ll leave it to you.”

“Understood. Please wait just a moment.”

So he was a regular—no, a VIP. Even the concierge handled check-in. Perhaps because it was a weekday, the lobby was quiet. Once everything was arranged, and Carter received the key, he briskly headed to the elevator. It was just the two of them inside. The elevator had glass walls, offering a sweeping view of the city at night.

“Um—”

Carter, who had been watching the view, turned slowly toward him.

“About the arrangement if things don’t go forward… I’d prefer something other than cash. Like… the watch you’re wearing.”

Sagawa had tried to steer clear of talking about raw money, but still wanted to ensure he wouldn’t walk away with nothing. That was the compromise he landed on. Without hesitation, Carter lifted his left hand, unclasped the luxury watch, and slipped it into Sagawa’s suit pocket.

“Advance payment.”

The weight of the watch made his pocket swell slightly. Even if he sold it secondhand, it’d fetch hundreds of thousands of yen. He’d feared being used and discarded without compensation, but clearly, this guy wasn’t cheap.

The room the concierge had arranged was bigger than any conference room at their office—and a suite with a view of the night skyline. It was so lavish it made Sagawa shrink into himself like a borrowed cat. Carter, however, moved comfortably through the space, completely at home in the luxurious setting. Even when he tried to belittle him as some sad guy who chased after old men, the aura of refinement around him never seemed to fade.

“Are you prepared?”

Carter turned around. Sagawa tilted his head, startled.

“Prepared…?”

“If you haven’t done it, go use the bathroom first.”

Prepared for what? He knew that sex between men involved using the anus, at least that much. But he'd assumed that the actual act would come much later. He hadn’t done any research—well, honestly, he’d peeked at a few explicit videos between men, but they were so extreme that it scared him off from learning any more.

Still, now that things had gone this far, he couldn’t afford to look panicked. He headed into the bathroom, out of the man’s view, and immediately pulled out his smartphone. Naturally, the battery was dying. Please just hold on, he begged inwardly as he typed “man sex” into the search bar—only for the phone to shut down completely.

Hopeless.

With no other choice, he got into the shower and washed himself thoroughly. The guy would know what to do, he reasoned. As long as I’m clean, I’ll survive. Sex is basically just sticking it in or getting stuck—it ends there.

They switched places. Once Carter went into the bathroom, Sagawa frantically rummaged through his work bag for a power bank, but as expected, he didn’t have one. He searched around the desk area for a hotel charger—and there it was. A multi-charging cable for various phone brands. He plugged in, and just as the phone screen flickered to life with a low battery icon, Carter came out.

That was fast. Shockingly fast.

Carter walked toward him without hesitation. “My phone died, so—” Sagawa began, but Carter ignored the excuse and pulled him into an embrace from behind. His chin was tilted up, lips approaching. Just before they touched, Sagawa instinctively turned away.

Carter frowned.

Not good. Even though he realized it, his body turned away again when Carter leaned in a second time. This time, Carter’s expression darkened, and he exhaled sharply through his nose, clearly annoyed. Without warning, he undid the sash of Sagawa’s bathrobe and slipped a hand inside. Hot fingers touched him down there, and the sudden contact made his spine shiver.

“Uwah—”

He instinctively recoiled. Carter clicked his chin forward.

“You’re not in the mood?”

“It’s not that…” Sagawa fumbled for an excuse, hastily pulling the front of the robe back together.

Carter looked down at him coldly, then abruptly seized his right arm.

Dragged along, he was shoved roughly onto the bed. The impact sent his glasses flying. As he tried to find them, Carter climbed on top of him from behind.

The weight, the pressure—a kind of fear he’d never experienced before. It wasn’t rational anymore. He was just scared. Terrified, blindly so.

“No—wait, stop!”

When he shouted, Carter halted.

“Are you joking?”

Those green eyes trembled with anger. Far from being enticing, this was clearly backfiring.

“I—I can’t do this today. I’m sorry. Another time… can we do this another time?”

He pressed his hands together in front of his face, desperately pleading.

“What are you talking about? I don’t understand.”

“I mean I can’t do this today...”

“Then why didn’t you refuse earlier?”

Carter’s words were painfully correct.

“I—I thought I’d be able to do it, but… I wasn’t prepared…”

“I let you use the bathroom first. What the hell were you doing all that time?”

Even as he was being scolded, he had no excuse. Being glared at from such close range was terrifying.

“I—I didn’t know what I was supposed to do…”

Carter’s eyes radiated fury, so intense it felt like his emotions were piercing straight through him. At this rate, he’d definitely be fired.

“…I’m sorry. I’m… a beginner.”

He bowed his head and confessed in a voice barely louder than a mosquito’s whine. Carter blinked. “What?”

“I’ve never been with a man before…”

The green eyes widened in surprise.

“You mean… you’ve never had sex before?”

“No, I’m not a virgin or anything. I’ve done it with women, but not with men…”

Carter narrowed his eyes.

“You’re not gay?”

“I don’t think I am…”

“If you’re not gay, then why did you come on to me?”

Before he could answer, Carter supplied it for him.

“Was it to get transferred to the main office?”

Those green eyes bore down on him with certainty.

“So, to get transferred, you seduced me—even though you’re not gay and have no experience with men?”

Carter sat up and sighed deeply. “Crazy,” he muttered, pressing a hand to his forehead. Sagawa sat up too, sinking down into the bed.

“It didn’t go the way I’d imagined… If it were tomorrow or the day after, I think I could’ve managed.”

Carter looked utterly dumbfounded. “This feels like ordering fries and being served a freshly dug potato straight out of the field.”

“I’ll… I’ll study next time.”

Carter scratched his head hard, then turned to look at him again.

“Are you really inexperienced with men?”

There was no point in lying or dodging it anymore. Sagawa answered honestly, “Yes.”

“You’ve never even… messed around? No mutual touching, no oral?”

Hearing those words spelled out made it real. He’d sort of expected it, but imagining himself doing any of it sent a chill through him. Still, he knew better than to let disgust show on his face.

“That too… I haven’t.”

“Have you ever even been touched by a man? Or kissed?”

“No, never.”

After the third answer, the disappointment in Carter’s eyes seemed to shift—just a little. He held his jaw, falling into thought. Sagawa sat in regret. Trying to seduce Carter had been a stupid mistake. If he’d never heard Toichi say that sucking up to a foreign boss might get him a transfer, he never would’ve tried something like this.

Then Carter pointed directly at him. The gesture carried the same weight as a gun being leveled at his head, freezing his body with tension.

“Right now, you’re like a freshly harvested potato—dirty and with roots still clinging to it. Even if I wash you, peel you, and take my time cooking you, there’s no guarantee you’ll end up being to my taste.”

It was a brutal comparison, but there was nothing Sagawa could say to argue back.

"But as long as the outcome doesn’t matter, this might at least serve to kill some time."

Carter grinned and took hold of Sagawa’s chin. His fingers were firm.

“Do you have any resistance to kissing a man?”

The direction of the conversation still wasn’t clear, but—was there going to be more?

“If I brace myself, I think I can manage.”

Now that Carter knew both his motive and his inexperience, there was no point pretending anymore.

“Then once you're ready, close your eyes.”

Carter let go of him. Those green eyes watching him seemed amused by the entire situation. Even though he’d just said the word brace, he had no idea what that actually meant. To be honest, the idea of kissing a man felt like a punishment game.

But there were stakes here—benefits to be gained—so he tried to set aside his emotions and analyze it rationally. It’s just another human being. Kissing a man or a woman—how different could it really be? If it still felt wrong, it was probably psychological, or something to do with appearances. What made it so hard was knowing it was a man.

So then… why not just not think of him as a man?

Like, say, closing his eyes.

It clicked. That’s what he meant earlier. Closing his eyes was to block out the visual reminder that this was a same-sex situation.

He brought to mind his favorite go-to fantasy: the seductive female teacher from that one video. With that image vivid in his mind, he closed his eyes.

And the moment he did, as if it were a signal, his chin was guided forward. Just as he thought oh—, something soft pressed against his lips. The kiss deepened, the angles shifting repeatedly. In the fantasy, the teacher was bold. Her tongue, which had just been licking his lips, slipped into his mouth without warning, and it startled him.

He was always the one taking the lead—being on the receiving end like this felt utterly foreign. And the guy's tongue was huge. There were girls in brothels who enjoyed kissing too, but their little tongues would flick around gently. This was different—aggressive, invasive. Still, it wasn’t entirely unskilled. It ran along the back of his teeth, teased the roof of his mouth, grazed places that were unexpectedly sensitive. It was the kind of kiss someone who really liked sex would give.

For a while, the wet, noisy kiss went on, until his mouth was practically buzzing from overstimulation. Finally, the tongue withdrew. His lips were sticky with spit—he couldn’t even tell whose.

“Kissing’s… passable,” Carter said, as coolly as if he were commenting on the weather, then wiped his mouth.

His hand settled on Sagawa’s thigh. That single touch, the heat of it, made his heart skip.

“Have you ever made a woman give you a blowjob?”

“Yes.”

“Did you like it?”

Just imagining that assertive tongue sucking him off sent heat pulsing to his lower half, like a fuse had been lit.

“…I don’t think there’s a guy who doesn’t.”

As if sensing that reaction, Carter narrowed his eyes in satisfaction.

“Then I’ll do it now. You’ve done it with women, so it shouldn’t be a problem. You can keep your eyes closed. If you don’t want it, say so.”

Carter sat Sagawa down at the edge of the bed, then lowered himself to the floor and knelt. Grasping his knees, he pushed his thighs apart. He stared directly at the limp thing hanging between them, as if studying it. It was humiliating. Sagawa wasn’t uncut and had never felt self-conscious about himself, but compared to a foreign man, the difference was like that between an adult and a child. He kept repeating to himself that his size was average by domestic standards. And no matter how good it might feel, he didn’t think he could bear the visual of being given a blowjob by a man, so he closed his eyes.

The finger that touched him was hot. A lukewarm, slick sensation grazed the tip. It slid along the ridge of the glans, teasing the tip with precision, hitting all the right spots. From the tip to the shaft, he was slowly licked downward—then suddenly engulfed by warm, moist flesh, sucked so tightly it almost hurt. It felt so good his lower half felt like it would melt into a puddle. If previous blowjobs had been like chicken, this was steak—rich and exquisite. It was, without a doubt, the best technique he’d ever experienced. Forgetting his aversion to the same sex, he genuinely admired how gay men are really built for this stuff—it's amazing.

Unable to resist curiosity, he cracked his eyes open mid-act. He saw brown hair. That intimidating, highly competent HQ manager—this man of higher rank and superior specs—was now kneeling in front of a younger, lower-ranked employee, fervently sucking him off. The imbalance of power made Sagawa feel euphorically dominant.

He reached out and touched the brown hair. Carter looked up. No matter how handsome or important he was, with a penis in his mouth, his face looked stupid. Unable to hold back anymore, Sagawa pressed down on the man's head and began thrusting at his own pace. The excitement escalated, and he was overwhelmed by the urge to finish on the man's face—to mark him, claim him. Once that thought took root, he couldn’t stop. After a few rough thrusts deep into Carter’s mouth, he pulled out forcefully, spraying semen across his pale face.

In the moment, it felt amazing—but only seconds later, he regretted it. Even in brothels, facial is often off-limits, and he hadn’t even asked for permission. He’d gotten carried away. He was definitely going to be scolded.

But Carter wiped Sagawa’s semen from his cheek with his fingers and brought it to his mouth. Alarmed, Sagawa watched as Carter tasted it with a slurp and muttered, “It’s thick.” It was perverse, obscene behavior—yet even covered in semen, there was an undeniable sex appeal in his profile that seemed to radiate.

“It seems you have no problem when it’s not with a woman,” Carter said.

Feeling both nervous and slightly guilty, Sagawa replied, “Yeah… um, it felt good,” offering his honest impression.

Carter climbed onto the bed and pulled Sagawa close. Between Carter’s crossed legs, something stood tall. Though not dark in color, the size—both in thickness and length—was undeniably striking. He’d heard Westerners might be thick but soft, yet seeing it in front of him, the volume alone was intimidating.

“Eastern men might be smaller and shorter, but they tend to be harder,” Carter commented as he grasped Sagawa’s penis, which was peeking from under his robe. After experiencing oral sex, Sagawa no longer felt any resistance to being touched there.

“Come closer. Stroke it together with mine,” Carter instructed.

Was he suggesting mutual masturbation? A two-person handjob?

“Straddle my legs,” Carter pointed at his thigh.

Although the pose—spreading his legs over another man—made Sagawa uncomfortable, he was curious about this act. He’d never done anything like this before. While women at brothels would offer such a service, none of his girlfriends had ever touched his penis, let alone done something like this.

Sitting on the man’s thighs, their two erections now close together, Carter gripped both in his hands and squeezed. Two male organs pressed tightly together—hot and intense. With both in his grasp, Carter began to stroke firmly. It was not the heat of hands, but of something more raw and intimate. The intensity of the stimulation made Sagawa tremble with pleasure, even though he had just climaxed not long ago. Carter too was leaking steadily from the tip, and their mixing fluids produced sticky, obscene sounds—guchu, nuchu—that sent a shiver down his spine.

“You’re getting hard again. Feels good?”

Carter’s voice was sweet.

“Y-yeah.”

He was just on the verge of release when Carter’s hand suddenly stopped. The fingers pulled away and he was ordered, “Now you do it.”

Without hesitation, Sagawa grabbed both his and Carter's with both hands and began stroking, mimicking what had been done to him. It still felt good. Even the sight of two penises didn’t bother him anymore. Carter’s erection felt soft on the outside but firm within, like a solid core ran through it.

“Look up.”

When he looked up, he was kissed. The intertwining tongue felt so good that he became absorbed in it, only to be scolded mid-kiss: “Keep your hands moving.”

As he desperately moved his hands while being distracted by Carter’s skillful kiss, Carter's shaft pulsed, throbbed, and spurted a milky liquid from the tip. A few seconds later, Sagawa came too.

Still caught in the lingering heat, Sagawa was panting. Carter, still basking in the afterglow, reached out and casually gripped Sagawa’s overly sensitive member like one might catch a cat’s tail.

“Not bad sensitivity,” Carter remarked.

It was uncomfortable having his most sensitive spot held like that, and yet… even after climaxing, part of him still wanted to be touched. After toying with it for a while, Carter finally released him.

“Now that the tasting’s done, let’s talk business.”

With that, the sensual expression vanished, replaced by the air of a cold businessman.

“If you can keep sleeping with me twice a week for six months, I’ll have you transferred to the head office.”

Sagawa did the math in his head. Twice a week would be around eight times a month—forty-eight times in six months. If one session cost 20,000 yen like a brothel, that would be 960,000 yen total.

“…That’s a lot of times.”

“This is non-negotiable. You’re a beginner, so I know I won’t be satisfied at first. Even if you go the full six months, I still don’t know if you’ll be any good by the end.”

Sagawa knew Carter hadn’t been fully satisfied—everything had only gone as far as mutual masturbation. He’d also noticed Carter had held back, likely because of his inexperience. A finger lifted his chin, tilting it up.

“For someone who’s never even touched a man before, I’m actually impressed you had the nerve to come and seduce me.”

“Well… I figured it might somehow work out…”

Carter looked at him with genuine exasperation and let go of Sagawa’s chin with a flick of his finger.

“I’m aware of the wage disparity between the branch and the head office, but you’re the first man who’s ever tried to negotiate like this. Even if you make it to the head office, if you don’t deliver results, you’ll be fired. Tricks like this are meaningless in the end. I don’t know how capable you are—and frankly, I don’t care. This is just a time-killing game for me.”

It annoyed Sagawa to be talked down to so freely by someone who didn’t even know him. Sure, Tennoji had the best sales record, but Sagawa was a close second. His performance was decent, and given the right environment, he was sure he could do even more.

“The condition for the transfer is six months. But if you prove yourself useful, and continue this until the end of my tenure in Japan—which is another year—I’ll give you a bonus.”

The unexpected offer made Sagawa cautiously ask, “How much… is the bonus?”

“Five million yen.”

In Sagawa’s head, five stacks of hundred-thousand-yen bills piled up like in a manga.

“If you quit halfway, there’s no bonus. No penalty either. Whether you continue after six months is up to you.”

They formalized the transfer condition as a contract. Sagawa didn’t want to risk Carter going back on his word later with a “I never agreed to that,” so even though it had no legal weight and was something no one else could see, he made Carter sign a pledge on hotel stationery. He tucked the piece of paper—a ticket to the head office—into his planner with great care, vowing never to lose it.

And so, he became Carter’s “training-type sex friend.” Twice a week, he would go to Carter’s apartment in Roppongi for sex. Looking back, Carter had been incredibly cautious. For the first four or five times, there was no penetration. He would gently loosen the area with his fingers, and once it softened, he would use small dildos to gradually help Sagawa grow accustomed to the sensation. Bit by bit, they progressed until Carter could finally enter him. There was pressure, yes—but fear, no. After being trained extensively with dildos, even the sense of humiliation about being penetrated was gone.

Sex with a man didn’t end at simply being able to take his penis inside. As Sagawa grew accustomed, he was eventually expected to reach orgasm from just anal penetration—without even touching his penis. At first, that had seemed impossible, but once his body was “trained,” and he came to know the pleasure of having his prostate stimulated, he found that whether it was a finger, a toy, or a penis, just being penetrated triggered an automatic erection and easy climax.

Back in college, a senior at his part-time job had once said that having a call girl play with his anus was the ultimate pleasure. At the time, Sagawa had listened with a sort of detached disgust. But now… he understood. That senior, however, probably never knew the feeling of having a man’s penis rubbing the back of his throat and enjoying it.

Half a year into sleeping with Carter, Sagawa was transferred to Eric & Ronald’s head office just as agreed. The continuation of the sexual arrangement for the rest of the man's tenure—another year—was something Sagawa chose of his own accord. The five-million-yen bonus was tempting, of course, but by then, sex with Carter had become as routine as brushing his teeth—simple and automatic.

They met twice a week, on Tuesdays and Fridays. Tuesdays were lighter—oral only, since they both had work the next day. Fridays were full-service, with penetration included, and depending on Carter’s mood, Sagawa might not get any sleep until morning.

The regular encounters left Sagawa completely drained, and he no longer needed to masturbate. If he accidentally did, Carter would get irritable and say his semen was “too thin.” So Sagawa simply stopped touching himself. In any case, holding back and then doing it with Carter felt better than masturbating alone.

He glanced at the arm that was now draped under his chest. The one-year extension came with only one condition: sex twice a week. Carter hadn’t said anything about seeing other people or dating. Technically, he was free to sleep around or have a girlfriend. But when it came to relieving his urges, he didn’t need anyone else—neither a sex worker nor a girlfriend. Still, as of last month, he’d started going to group mixers again.

Sex with Carter was just business. But at some point—he couldn’t say when—Sagawa had started to feel like Carter liked him. At first, he would be sent home right after they finished, but later, he was told to stay over. Now there were changes of clothes—both suits and casual wear—prepared at Carter’s apartment. Even clothes he’d left lying around haphazardly were always cleaned and ready for him the next time he came.

It was sometime last month—after oral sex, during the lingering kisses, Carter had whispered into his ear, “When’s your birthday?” When Sagawa told him, Carter, despite it being months away, asked, “Is there anything you want?” That had come as a surprise. Their relationship was already tied by money; for him to offer even more spending could only be taken as a sign of affection. Just to test him, Sagawa said, “A Ferrari.” Carter replied, “What color?” and the sheer seriousness in his tone spooked him enough to quickly backpedal: “I’m kidding. Cars are a hassle—parking and all. It’s fine.”

To be honest, being liked wasn’t exactly what Sagawa wanted, but still—if he had to choose, it was better to be treated with care and pleasure than to be used roughly just for release. Either way, Carter would be returning to America in another six months. Sagawa figured he might as well ride this out and enjoy the benefits.

As he mulled over his thoughts, the alarm clock rang. The arm draped over his chest tightened, pulling him into a firm embrace. Twisting his body slightly, Sagawa kissed Carter, who looked so grumpy upon waking that he seemed about to shout. Eventually, he became fully awake, and the kiss deepened.

“Give me some milk,” he said.

So Sagawa straddled Carter's face. Carter pulled his hips close and took him fully into his mouth, sucking greedily. Even if he couldn’t get him to climax, just having something to suck seemed to satisfy him. This position always felt kind of ridiculous, but Sagawa allowed it as a small act of appeasement. Like in business, a bit of service kept the deal smooth. Oh right—before heading out to work, he had to send a message to Reina. She was a catch, and he needed to toss out some bait to make sure she didn’t slip away.

He felt fingers at his entrance, trying to pry him open, and he hurriedly lifted his hips. Carter’s mouth let go with a wet pop, and he stuck out his tongue longingly, as if still hungry for what had just been in his mouth.

“I don’t want it in the back. I’ve got work after this.”

Carter stroked Sagawa’s ass with a lewd touch and narrowed his eyes.

“...Shall I give you the day off? It’s not a busy time right now, is it?”

His heart wavered. Unlike the Japan branch, employees at the headquarters took paid leave and long vacations without hesitation. As long as it wasn’t during peak season, no one even questioned the reason. But being the overly cautious type, Sagawa never managed to find the right timing to request paid time off.

“What about you?”

“I’m taking a half day,” Carter replied, beckoning with the crook of his right index finger.

It was already midweek, he was tired, and work wasn’t especially busy. Unable to resist the temptation, Sagawa gave in and lowered his hips. His penis was again enveloped in a warm, wet mouth, and a finger slipped into him from behind. With his most sensitive areas attacked from both inside and out, the pleasure became overwhelming, and it got harder and harder to stay kneeling.

I’ll message Reina after he leaves for work, he gave up thinking, and curved his back as he let out a loud moan.

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