The little man bowed and, with his hand pointing to the corridor leading to the back, waited to be followed. He led him through that tight and dark passage for a while. They passed by several doors, some open, some closed, and then he stopped in front of the last one. The man bowed again and waited for him to go in.
There was no one waiting in the poorly illuminated poorly decorated room. The bed looked pretty cosy; it wasn’t made as tidy as he was used to, but someone tried. The two night stands… there was a reading lamp on each, but they were probably broken because on the one on the right of the bed there were two or three candles. That’s where the light came from. On the right side of the room, the darker side, he could distinguish very little, maybe there was a wardrobe. A small round table and a rocking chair were near the window on the far end. This little dark room was really inhabited. He walked across the old carpet and sat on the chair. He was a bit ashamed because he shouldn’t have been so amazed when he saw the book on the table. He started reading some passages.
He almost didn’t hear her come in with her eyes on the ground. There was something strange about her. She was beautiful, there was no doubt, but she didn’t seem to realise it. Still, she had that self confidence that comes from knowing how beautiful you are and how much power you somewhat possess because of this. Her face was impenetrable, petrified. It made him wonder if it ever moved, if it ever made a sound. Her look was so distant, she didn’t seem to know that she wasn’t alone as she walked through the room. But she knew. She looked at him for a mere second and then she lowered her eyes again. That glance left him with no words. She was so dominant and yet so submissive… that was her great power, this is how she could entrap anyone. She could’ve been Yuki-onna herself for all he knew.
She started undoing her kimono, but he sopped her with an almost trembling hand. He didn’t want that. He took her to the bed and lied her down. He took the hairpin out and very slowly spread her long beautiful black hair on the bed. He felt like an artist, he felt like each movement of his hand was like a stroke of a painter’s brush. He was creating a painting, a masterpiece. She was perfect lying on the bed in her kimono with her hair spreading like a mystic net and her eyes…
She felt so soft under his hands…
He got up and slowly moved away from her to get his sketch book. He drew her like he never drew before. You could feel his hands on every curve of that drawing.
She never said a word… and he loved her.

Photo © Sue Anna Joe - "Her Embrace"