ningyo 人魚 blue eye samurai

Chapter Twenty: Be Good, Please?

One day, Mizu would tell it all, and Sogo would be the first (and only) person to help carry her burden. She wanted her to be. But she could only hope the day she was ready to share her soul would come... if it ever would. To tell one's pain was to relive it. She didn't blame Sogo for never telling her about Ichiro when asked. Even when Mizu found out, still, no words pertaining to the traumatic tale left the ningyo's lips. It was fixed behind the prison of her mouth. As a woman of few words, she understood that very well.

Sogo's curiosity couldn't let the topic slip away, and she asked hesitantly. "Was he like... Ichiro?"

Mizu paused for a moment, thinking about it. When she had it, she gently lifted her face to look at her in the eyes. The shorter woman looked up at her, her wet baby hair sticking to her forehead. "Kind of, but he was older. Way older."

"Really? How?"

"Like, he had a foot in the grave already."

Her imagination flared to a wrinkly man with ghostly white hair on a rocking chair. She shook her head, dispelling the disgusting thought.

"Wait, Mizu, how old are you?"

She paused, trying to remember what year it even was. Her eyes went up to the waterfall as she counted in her mind.

"Twenty."

"Aah, no way. I'm older than you..."

"Heh, I must have a type," Grinning, Mizu hooked her other arm behind Sogo's head. She raked back the wet strands of baby hair from her lover's eyes. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-one..."

"So old."

"Mizu!"

Her grin spread. She cupped Sogo's wet face with her large palms, her thumbs reaching behind her ears. The moonlight gave the water a silver glow, and they reflected Mizu's eyes like glass.

They had a glimmer of mischief in them. "I wanna try something. Up for it?"

Sogo blinked up at her without the slightest idea of what to expect.

*

"Mmm, fuck, fuck!"

"Higher. Hold your hips up..."

"Mm...mmm.."

"Now keep them up."

"Mmmm!"

They were out of the springs and lay on the ground beside the waterfall. Mizu was on her back as Sogo sat on her face, bending over with her face in between Mizu's legs. With every flick of Mizu's tongue, the ningyo squirmed too much, lowering her hips down to her chest like she was running away. She quickly learned that it was better to pin her down for moments like these, or else her hips went everywhere. Every time she had a momentum going, her lover would flinch in a different direction.

"Mizu..." her red cheek pressed against the softness of Mizu's thigh. She was so embarrassed to say the next words, but she had to. She could barely think straight this whole time and felt really useless. "I can't focus when you're doing that."

Mizu blinked. Her idea was mutual pleasure. It seemed fool-proof enough, but maybe she was right.

"You know," Sogo muttered, seeing through this. "You don't have to do anything to me to justify receiving pleasure yourself... it's okay to just... lie down and be served."

A moment passed, and nothing was said. Sogo carefully lifted her thigh from over Mizu's face. She kneeled beside her, as the samurai still laid on her back.