Dangerous Lessons: The Yakuza and the English Teacher, #1

Chapter One

GOU NEVER PAID ANY attention to the teachers the school employed so long as they did their job: maintained the school’s reputation and kept the students coming through the doors. None had ever caught his eye, made him curious to know more about them, not until this man.

He walked down the hallway, footsteps echoing as the lights flickered and hummed trying to decide whether to shed light on Gou or leave him in the shadows, he was accustomed to. It didn’t matter to him, light or shadow, his power extended through them both. A point the school principal who walked beside him would best remember if he wanted to continue believing the rumours he’d heard were false.

But not even he interested Gou beyond the way his voice shook from his bowed head. The man cowered in Gou’s presence, and it made him smirk, loving the mix of fear and respect the principal held for him. Fear didn’t stop the man from speaking, pointing out each class as Gou peered into them with a thin veneer of interest in the workings of the school. He only saw it as means for funnelling money through from his more lucrative enterprises, cleaning it. But that was until they reached his class and then Gou’s interest wasn’t forced.

His fists curled, not out of amusement at watching the principal flinch every time his gloves creaked, but as an attempt to rein in the desire surging through him. Gou stood and stared at the young man, a foreigner standing in front of the thirty or forty students, who captured his attention in a way no other man had before. A man whose skin was pale and body slim, yet the way he held himself, the confidence he oozed spoke of a hidden strength. The man intrigued Gou. Filled him with a sudden urge to strip him of his clothes and see what lay beneath. One he was quick to tamp down.

Who is that? not turning his heated gaze away from the young man, admiring how his jeans clung to his long legs.

Ah, that is Mr. McKay. James McKay, though he allows the students to call him Jamie, the principal’s disgust at the blatant disregard for Japanese etiquette laced his words. He arrived from New Zealand, I think, at the beginning of October."

Hmm. The Board of Directors didn’t interfere with the day to day running of the school, except when problems arose. Nor was it the first time they had employed a foreign teacher, many who came for short stints on working holiday visas. Does he speak much Japanese?

If the man next to him was confused by his line of questioning or at his sudden interest in one of the school’s teachers, he didn’t show it. His features remained neutral as he listened to the question Gou asked. The principal will be aware of who owned the school he ran and why he shouldn’t ask too deep into where the money came from. It didn’t pay to question the man who could not only remove you from the position you held—coveted—but from life itself without a second thought.

He is by no means, fluent, but it's passable, the principal huffed, indicating the man’s grasp of formal Japanese was limited, which didn’t bother Gou. Formal Japanese had no place in the bedroom.

Good, Good- trying to downplay his interest but couldn’t restrain the grin spreading across his face. Communicating with the man would be easier if he spoke Japanese, seeing as Gou’s own English skills were rusty. But maybe... Right, shall we continue- gesturing for the principal to continue with the tour, despite his reluctance to tear his attention away from the pale-skinned foreigner.

The principal nodded, heading down the hall with its flickering lights as Gou followed behind him. His voice droning on again, but Gou wasn’t listening as his mind tried to come up with ideas on how he could get to know the foreign teacher better. How to get him into my bed.

...RIGHT. THAT’S CORRECT. Adverbs are an adjective used to modify a verb. Can anyone give me an example?

Jamie stood at the front of the classroom pointing at the explanation he had written on the blackboard while talking to the confused group of teenagers. He had only been doing this job for a few weeks and surprised himself with how much he enjoyed it. Outside of teaching abroad, Jamie never considered it a possible career, but he enjoyed seeing the excited looks on his student's faces when they grasped the difficult concepts, he taught them. He couldn’t see his enjoyment of the job changing anytime soon.

...yes. That’s correct. Sweetly, Badly, Angrily, are all adverbs...

He glanced across at the door during a moment of pause, the students busy completing worksheets he’d handed out. Jamie sensed someone watching him, not unusual with the principal of the school often showing people around before they enrolled. But there was something more to the gaze he felt lingering on him today. Whoever was watching him didn’t have education on their mind, as their heated gaze drifted across his body, eyeing him up like Jamie was to be their next meal. Predatory, hungry, and Jamie found himself suppressing the urge to shiver.

Jamie didn’t want to believe it, never having had this reaction to anyone the principal showed around in the past. Nor could he believe the hungry gaze had come from the man he caught a glimpse of by the principal’s side. An older man, whose suit could easily have cost more than what Jamie made here in a month - two months. Broad shoulders and oozing power that had Jamie struggling to pull his attention back to the students in front of him. It couldn’t have been him? Could it?

He shook his head, trying to shove the distracting thoughts out of his mind. Jamie needed to remain focused on his job, noticing the students had finished the worksheet and were becoming restless. How old was he? Picking up the sheet with the answers and a piece of chalk, Jamie turned to the blackboard. Though it’s hard to tell with Japanese men. The scratching of the chalk as he wrote up the answers failed to drown out thoughts of the man and his lustful gaze. This was what he was being paid for, Jamie reminded himself, the reason why he had come to Japan.

His decision to come to Japan and teach English had been an easy one having always had a fascination with the country—history, language, and pop culture. Jamie hadn’t even waited very long after he had finished his Masters, before signing up to a Teach Abroad Programme, not concerned at all about where in Japan he ended up. There were a few, who signed up at the same time as he had, who grumbled about their placements acting as though being sent somewhere like Hokkaido was equivalent to being sent into a rural backwater. Jamie would have been just as happy being sent there as he was to be here in Kyoto. Though, he had to admit for a history buff like himself, Kyoto was more than ideal, not that he had managed to explore much of the city beyond the major temples, finding his time taken up preparing for classes. He probably didn’t need to do as much work for his job as he did, but Jamie enjoyed doing it. There was still twelve months left in his contract, leaving him plenty of time to discover the rest of Kyoto and the other nearby cities.

Jamie didn’t know if he’d even see the man again, so he shouldn’t waste his time thinking about him. I wish I had gotten more than a glimpse.

Chapter Two

GOU STOOD IN HIS OFFICE on the second floor of the nightclub, one of the many businesses he owned in the entertainment district of Pontocho—Kyoto’s answer to Kabukicho. He stared out the mirrored glass window overlooking the dance floor below, whiskey in hand and enjoying the view. Bodies writhed, moving to the pulsing beat of the music, louder below than what he could hear up here. Not that he wanted to listen, the style of music being played tonight, electronica and techno-pop as chosen by the DJ, not to his taste. But if it kept the punters coming through the doors, put money in his tills as they drunk his booze—and put money in the hands of the men strategically placed within the venue—the DJ could play whatever they liked.

And it was working. The place was never empty, not even on weeknights and on the weekend, ques formed outside as men tried to gain entrance. Not just men, women also came here too, but they were of no interest to Gou, though he’d take their money all the same. The money slipping into his tills and the hands of his men had Gou struggling to keep up with demand. Goods were often needed to be brought in from other venues to cover the shortfall until new shipments arrived. An increasing demand which had him grinning.

His gaze drifted over the crowded dance floor, eying with appreciation the half-naked bodies of the men dancing. Bodies glistened with sweat and lust, under the bright lights, making Gou hungry to find someone to quench his desire tonight. But no one grabbed his attention and Gou wondered if he’d end up calling on a familiar body to fill his bed instead. He couldn’t deny, sipping his whiskey, that there weren’t plenty of beautiful specimens down there, bodies supple and eager to please. His mind though, had other ideas, drifting back to the pale-skinned foreigner he spied earlier in the day and no one else could compare. There was something about the man, that even from the distance he had seen him, grabbed his attention. Gou wanted to know him better and to have some fun.

A flicker of something on the edge of the dance floor caught his eye as he went to move his gaze toward the bar, before sitting down to work. Files sat on his desk calling to him, in urgent need of his attention, but they weren’t going to get it now. His gaze once more focused on the dance floor, staring straight at the foreigner towering over the Japanese men already dancing. Jamie, he thought his name was, the man who caught his attention earlier was now here, in his club.

At first, Gou thought he might have stumbled into the club not realising what type of establishment it was. It wouldn’t be the first time. Easy enough done by tourists as they wandered through Pontocho, gawking at the bars, clubs and restaurants, their understanding of Japanese limited. But that reasoning was soon dismissed—thankfully—as he noticed Jamie was not alone, nor making any moves to leave the place. Instead, he looked right at home dancing amongst the half-naked men, as though it was normal for him to do so.

Gou grinned, knocking back the last of the whiskey in his glass. His eyes not straying from Jamie as he watched him dance, his body swaying in time with the music. Lust filled his eyes and his hand tightened around the glass whenever someone got close to Jamie, hands reaching out to touch him. A reaction which surprised him. He didn’t know this man beyond his name and yet, Gou was already beginning to develop a possessiveness toward the foreigner he had never felt toward anyone before—never allowed himself to.

It didn’t take long for the heat of the dance floor, the warm atmosphere of the club to get to Jamie. His hands reaching for the bottom of his tight t-shirt, and he tugged it off, leaving him bare-chested like the others. The action garnered plenty of pleased noises from the other men on the dance floor and Gou couldn’t blame them as his own cock twitched in appreciation. Arousal spiked in his blood as he swept a hungry gaze across Jamie’s bare chest, the chiselled muscles once hidden beneath his clothes and a low groan escaped his lips. Gou had to adjust himself, his pants growing uncomfortably tight and yet he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the man. Indecent thoughts formulating in his head.

He must have that man.

JAMIE GLANCED AROUND the club grinning, glad he accepted the offer from his Japanese friends, co-workers to come out. The place wasn’t over the top in décor—not as flamboyant as some places he had visited—but the music pounding through the place suited his tastes and the drinks coming from the bar weren’t bad either. Jamie didn’t even need to wait for the buzz of alcohol to flow through his system before he stepped out onto the dance floor, enjoying being able to let loose and not hide the way he looked at other men.

He hadn’t been on the floor for long before a hungry gaze drifted across his body. A lusty gaze that reminded him of the one from earlier in the day and it only grew hungrier as he removed his t-shirt, the heat of the club seeing him eager to join in the bare-chested dancing of the men around him. But it wasn’t any of those around him who were gazing at him lustfully. Not that there weren’t plenty of lustful gazes from them, but it wasn’t the same. This gaze was heavy, powerful, and filled with promises he wanted to experience. No one looked familiar. No one looked old enough to be the man he glimpsed through the classroom door. But then, why would a man like him be in a place like this, age aside. The suit the man wore, even with the glimpse Jamie had got of it, had not been cheap. It spoke of money, power, and commanded respect that none of the men surrounding him could ever manage to achieve, better suited for the traditional Ochayas on the other side of the river. Why would a man like that spend his time prowling the bars of Pontocho, when he and his partners could be entertained by Geishas in Gion?

The hungry gaze stayed on him all night, increasing in strength, and tinged with anger whenever another man got too close to him, and Jamie found he liked it. Liked the strange possessiveness directed at him that didn’t make him uncomfortable, though Jamie knew it should. Instead, it intrigued him. Fascinated him. He wished, no, wanted to know who the man behind the hunger was. Wanted to know with an unexpected desperation, why he was so drawn to this unknown faceless stranger and could he fulfil the promises his hungry gaze was making. Jamie missed the warmth of the gaze as it drifted across him once he left the club. Its hungry heat replaced with an empty coldness that had him wishing he could bask in its warmth again.

If he returned here, would the mysterious man be present? Would he feel that hunger on his skin again?

GOU KNEW WHAT HE NEEDED to do as he watched Jamie leave. Knew how he could get close to the young foreign man who intrigued him. Gou planned to force his way into Jamie’s life, till the man couldn’t remember a time Gou wasn’t a part of it.

Jamie would be his.

Chapter Three

JAMIE STOOD ON THE pavement outside a modern two-storey house in an expensive part of Kyoto. Two streets over from the Imperial Palace and overlooking the Kamo River, the house had been designed to fit into the small gap between the existing buildings on either side of it. Modernity and antiquity resting side by side and yet, Jamie couldn’t describe the house as looking out of place, no money spared on the detail. Under the faint glow coming from the nearby streetlight, Jamie double checked the address on the piece of paper he held. Satisfied this was the right place, Jamie shoved it back in his pocket and stepped up to the front door. His hands shook as he pushed the buzzer and waited, unsure of what would happen next.

It never occurred to him to query the Principal of the Language School about his request, nor any of the instructions he had been given. When Jamie had agreed to work for the school, they had informed him they didn’t work with High School and College students exclusively but also provide services for those in the business world needing to brush up on their English, often through the provision of conversational partners. But this was the first time such a request had been made of him. It didn’t help his nerves much, when the principal described the client as an older gentleman with an important connection to the school, pressure Jamie didn’t need on his shoulders, afraid he lacked the ability to use the correct level of respect—the layers of formal Japanese speech had always been difficult for him to grasp. He wasn’t even bothered by the time of night the meeting had been arranged for. It only took Jamie four weeks of living and working in Japan to realise that the concept of a nine to five workday he was accustomed to didn’t exist.

Yes, a voice barked through the intercom.

Ah, it’s James... I’m Jamie McKay, from the Language School. Nerves strangled his voice, and he gripped the straps of the bag he carried tighter.

Good. You’re on time. I like that. The door buzzed and popped open. Jamie pushed it and stepped inside, closing it behind him.

You can leave your shoes there—the voice startled Jamie as a man appeared at the top of the stairs in front of him and walked down toward him— and wear these, the man said, pointing to a pair of slippers. Jamie nodded and followed his directions. If you would like to follow me. The man turned and headed up the stairs not bothering to check if Jamie was behind him.

Jamie struggled to remember the formal Japanese he learnt at