The sequel to my first full novel 'The Diary of Masahiko Yoichi".
Its been 4 years since Masahiko woke up in the hospital. This book follows his recovery and how even from beyond the grave his tyrannical grand father still controls his life. Will the Dark Prince have enough courage to open his poisoned heart? Will he ever find his dream Uke?
So it’s been a while since I picked up this book. How’ve you been? Well I probably should fill you in on what’s been going on, I’m 21 now so I think I’ve earned a level up or two since then. You may have noticed through my writing that I’ve changed a lot. Let’s see the last time I wrote anything was in the hospital. Picking up my life after I was discharged was hard. My wounds healed faster than the doctors anticipated. I was up and walking again in two weeks. My leg despite being the worst at the time, healed like new. There’s barely any difference now. My shoulder on the other hand took a bit longer. I had a lot of muscle damage and was in rehabilitation for months. But on the upside I got to learn archery. It helped get my muscles working again after I left hospital. Now it just aches slightly when it’s very cold. I’ve got a small scar still, it criss-crosses my collar bone. Doctor says that it’s permanent. It really bugged me at first, but now the scar is as much a part of me as the tattoos running down my back.
That’s something else that’s changed; I’m the head of the family. This means I’ve inherited the large estate in Japan where my family has lived for generations. I tried to live there at first, but I just didn’t feel like I belonged there. I’ve never lived in that house. My parents were always trying to escape my grandfather. So other than a few parties, I’ve never been there.
Ah yes you’re probably wondering what happened to my grandfather after our big blow out. Well he survived the battle, just. He was in intensive care at the same hospital I was in for a while; I then had him locked up in a high security, mental hospital. He finally died when I was 19, but by then I had already taken over everything. I had his body and his favourite possessions burnt, I then sealed them in concrete like they do for radioactive waste. I hoped that way he wouldn’t be able to hurt me anymore, but he had already filled my heart with poison.
I may have been up, walking and fighting fit again within a few months but the mental damage wouldn’t fade. After leaving the hospital I moved in with Uruha and Usagi at their Tokyo, penthouse apartment. Oddly the apartment has always had two bedrooms. It was as if my best friend had always wanted me there. I stayed there for a few years. I was a miserable wreck when I had arrived. Since then Usagi has become my official tailor and I work as a model for him some times. I started to come out of my shell more by the time the main cosplay season arrived. It was as if we’d all travelled back in time and we were kids again. Just us three, rocking the cosplay world and eating as much sweets and ice cream as we could. I’d always missed the cosplay circuit when I was in England. What truly made me feel better though was all my fan girls had joined together and made a magazine about me. Odd right? It made me smile so much that Uruha bought it out. They now have a large office near the apartment where they release the monthly magazine. I don’t know why a mass of obsessive, crazy, almost rabid women was the thing that finally broke me out of my depression but hey that’s Japan. I’m sure if you look hard enough, there’s a sign somewhere that says “designed not to make sense.”
I guess that’s what I love so much about Japan. I don’t think anything has ever made sense. After two years I finally returned to England. Despite being totally in love with the bright lights and insanity that is Tokyo, I always missed something. My second family understood completely why I couldn’t just return home. They even visited me once or twice, but Lucy always seemed lost so far from the greens and gold’s of the British countryside. When I returned I’d decided I wanted to stand on my own two feet some more. I wanted to learn to cook and fend for myself. The monotony of paying bills and doing the weekly shopping seemed to have some strange charm to me. I’d intended to buy a nice classic and quintessentially British cottage in the countryside somewhere. I had enough funds being the head of the family and all. Oh forgot to mention, I inherited the family accounts too. It was an amazing surprise finding 10,000,000 stashed away in an account. It was like stumbling on rare loot, like a magic pudding or something. On the second day back in England Lucy took me to see one of her friends. He was a middle aged man who’d recently divorced his wife, lost his children and the whole shebang. I thought we were just going to help him move some stuff, but nothing is ever that simple. Mr Johnson was actually planning to become a monk. Not the brown wearing Christian ones either. He decided to cross the globe and become one of those martial arts fighting ones who live in the mountains of Tibet. So to help him balance his karma and separate him from all his worldly things, Lucy, Emily, a bunch of Lucy’s friends and I, came to his house to take his stuff away. He wanted everything gone and wouldn’t even take money for it… even the house. You see Mr Johnson was the architect so he had designed his house and the others in the area, which made it his intellectual property and his ex-wife didn’t really want the house either. So that’s where I came in. The house is a three floored; 8 bedroom; modern manor house. Not exactly what I was going for but the atmosphere of the place was amazing and the views out here are to die for. On top of all that, it’s set in the middle of the countryside. It’s like a small street of lavish houses was ripped out of some posh town and plonked, slap bang in the middle of nowhere. The neighbours are nice and there’s a small farmers village about ten minutes’ walk from here. It even has a beautiful quaint market. Oh god and the cheese! I’ll have to save that story for another day.
Mr Johnson had decided on first sight that me and the house were a perfect fit and demanded I take it off his hands. So I did. It’s a brilliant house with a large lounge, a good sized kitchen with connected dining area that looks out onto the 3 acre garden. It has a spacious garage and a separate room for clothes washing. Plus 8 large bedrooms, a cinema room and the best part of all is the two floor library. The second floor is mostly shelves but it has a balcony that looks down to the large mahogany table that takes up most of the library’s floor space. The only other time I’ve seen a library of this scale was when my adopted parents tried to put me in private education. I love it! I’m not much of a book worm but it’s my favourite place in the house. It’s all dark wood and brass fittings. I just couldn’t wait to fill it with manga! Yes I now have that much. I’ve even allocated two whole cases on the second floor to yaoi. I’d allocate more I just don’t want to seem like a pervert.
In the end I had to convert what must have been a band practice room into a bed room as it was the only room with enough ceiling clearance for my four poster bed. I converted the area where the sound decks were into an en-suite bathroom and walk-in wardrobe. There’s even a small secret exit into the library’s top floor as I’m right next to it. I mainly use this for fetching new yaoi books at night. I painted the walls a dark red-practically-black. I even had a local artist paint the ceiling to look like the cosmos. It’s a multitude of blues, blacks and purples and each star is actually a small crystal, each of which was painstakingly glued onto the ceiling by hand. It has a steel dragon that interweaves the stars and coils down to a point, and between each scale is an L.E.D so that the beast becomes a vicious yet beautiful chandelier. The dragon’s mouth also boasts a large, ethereal blue coloured crystal, shaped like a burst of infernal fire and at night you could almost believe it’s real. I also had some heavy velvet curtains made for the windows with leather tie backs and soft silk curtains for my bed. I kept the chaise lounge from my old room but I decided to put it in the lounge and had a shorter one made for the end of my bed. I’ve also got a Victorian style desk made from ebony and polished steel, throne style chair, that’s made of over 100 individually, cast leaves and upholstered in black leather. I’ve set up a little computer station over there. I’ve still got the secret mini fridge hidden in a side table, but other than that I’ve upgraded all my tech stash. On the other side of the bed I have another side table. This one has both my Xbox and PS3 concealed inside. Behind the bed posts are controller dispensers, the left is Xbox, the right is PS3. There’s also a hidden container for yaoi things, (Yes I said yaoi things…hard-core yaoi things.) and a 40 inch T.V that drops down from the foot end of the canopy. On the far wall near my secret exit is a 70 inch T.V that has surround-sound speakers and a camera so I can talk with my friends. I already checked you can’t see the bed from there though. I’m not that weird.
Although there was one thing I kept from the original room specs, the sound proofing. What, I might need it. I’m begging the universe I’m going to need it. Yes I’m still that desperate. I think I’ve actually gotten worse. Now that I’ve settled in to my new house, I’m lonely as hell. It’s opened up a large aching hole in my heart. Oh what I wouldn’t do for a sexy, loud in bed Uke. Just thinking about it makes me want to cry. So I’ve stocked up on ice cream in case I get miserable enough. Yes that sadly means I’m still a virgin. It’s frustrating, but at heart I’m a romantic, so I don’t want to throw it away. With my grandfather gone I’ve learnt to be more open with my feelings. I’m still not out of the ‘closet’, (I’ve never really got that western saying. Who goes around shoving gay guys into closets?) So I’ve still got the side effects of fan girls wanting my babies, but I can cope with that. I think if I did come out they would probably turn me into their personal yaoi porn/fan fiction obsession, then and only then, would they creep me out. Ah that’s something else I’ve learnt whilst on the topic of yaoi. (But honestly when do we stop thinking about it?) There may be plenty of hot, Japanese, gay guys out there, but something doesn’t quite cut it. I think I’m attracted to nerds, especially British ones. There’s just something about pale skin, the accent and free tech support that makes me drool. I’m addicted, just thinking about the way pale skin captures the moonlight makes my brain melt and my crotch yearn. I think something must be broken in me. I can’t stand buff men and I stay away from the orange ‘tan’, like I do uranium and I feel sick at the thought of short hair. What is the point of short hair anyway? It’s not long enough to run your fingers through when you’re passionately kissing a guy beneath the stars. It’s not even enough to hold onto when you need to be … deeper. Honestly all I want is a tall, not too skinny but enough to cuddle on cold nights, whiter than paper, British nerd with hair. Is that too much to ask for? Oh and he has to be gentle natured and loving. I’m not all about looks, but a hot ass helps right?
So I think that’s everything caught up with. I’m just on my way out to pick up Uruha and Usagi from the train station. They come visit me every other month. They like my house but unfortunately I don’t think they could ever leave Tokyo and come live in England with me.