Chapter 15: The Price of Dreams
The flight of more than five hours seemed to stretch Linh’s every nerve. The dry recycled air in the cabin , the steady sound of the engine and the nameless waiting made the night at the hotel replay over and over in her mind like a broken film. When the plane door finally opened at Narita Airport, a cool, dry stream of air carrying a strange, clean scent rushed in. It was completely different from the humid heat of Hanoi, a difference so obvious that Linh momentarily forgot the turmoil in her heart.
Bald, pulling two large suitcases, skillfully led her through the security checkpoints, past the surprisingly orderly lines of people. He didn’t say much, only occasionally turning back to tell her to stay close so she wouldn’t get lost in the crowd of strangers. His silence wasn’t aloofness, but rather a shell that hid his tiredness and the things that were difficult to say.
They did not take the Shinkansen bullet train like Linh had seen in movies. Instead, the two brothers were crammed onto a regular train, packed with people in business suits with expressionless faces. Linh looked at the faces bent down on their phones, the near-absolute silence on the train carriage contrasting strangely with the chaos in her mind. The train passed through the suburbs, small houses close together, then gradually entered the urban area with taller buildings. Finally, the train stopped at a station in Nakano district. Not the flashy center, but the streets here were so clean that not a single piece of trash could be found, the shops were small and pretty, and the air was very peaceful.
Troc’s apartment was on the fifth floor of a fairly new-looking apartment building with an outside hallway. He inserted the key and the door opened to a small but extremely tidy space. The smell in the apartment was not musty, but rather the smell of fabric softener, new wood, and a faint scent of coffee. A living room connected to the kitchen and a separate bedroom, not much furniture but neatly arranged, with the aesthetic taste of a single but meticulous man.
“This is my house. Small but neat.” Troc said, his voice filled with pride as he put Linh’s suitcase down. “Living alone here is like that, but it’s not too bad.”
Linh walked in, took off her shoes and placed them neatly on the shelf. She gently touched the wooden table, looked out the window, where she could see the balconies of the houses opposite and a patch of blue sky. This apartment, though small, was much more decent than what she imagined the life of a construction worker would be like. Obviously, Troc was not rich compared to the Japanese, but he had a stable life, a life that he had had to work hard and sacrifice a lot to have. That made her both admire him and feel like she was really a burden when she suddenly appeared, breaking the order that he had worked so hard to build.
“You should rest for a while, take a shower to feel better. Tonight I’ll take you out to dinner with the boss and some of my colleagues, to introduce them.” Troc said, then pulled out a brand new set of bedding still in a plastic bag from the closet and spread it out in the bedroom for her. “You sleep in this room. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
This distance made Linh feel more comfortable. Perhaps they both needed some space to sort out the mess in their heads after the debauched night at the hotel.
That night, as Linh stood in front of her small wardrobe, she felt a strange urge. After everything that had happened, after feeling tainted and worthless, the only power she felt she still held was her appearance, the attractiveness of her body. She needed some affirmation, however small, that she was still desirable. When Troc walked in and said: “You can wear whatever you want, you’re meeting your boss, to show people that you’re not just any girl”, that sentence felt like a permission.
She chose a black silk camisole, the fabric soft and cool against her skin. The neckline was low, not too revealing but enough to show off her ample cleavage provocatively when she moved. Beneath, she wore a miniskirt that hugged her hips and thighs, highlighting the curves she knew she was proud of. She stood in front of the mirror, meticulously applying her makeup. Foundation hid her fatigue, sharp eyeliner made her eyes look deeper and more soulful, and finally a coat of red lipstick was applied to her lips as a statement. She was painting a mask of confidence.
When she walked out, Troc was standing in the kitchen drinking a glass of water. He turned around, and then froze. His eyes were fixed on her, his pupils slightly dilated. He looked at her red lips, then his eyes slid down her cleavage, stopping at her long, slender thighs hidden under her short skirt. A flame of naked desire flared, but immediately a shadow of worry crossed his face. He seemed to realize that this outfit was probably too daring for a meeting with conservative bosses and colleagues. But then, his male ego, the pride of “owning” a woman who made other men turn their heads, overwhelmed everything. He cleared his throat, forcing a smile: “Okay. Let’s go.”
The restaurant was a rather luxurious Izakaya with private dining rooms separated by wooden partitions and sliding doors. In the room, Troc’s bosses – two older Japanese men: Sato-san and Suzuki-san – and a few colleagues were already waiting. Sato-san seemed to be the one with the higher position, with a beer belly, a red face, and a hearty laugh. Suzuki-san was thinner, wore glasses, and looked intellectual, but his small eyes behind his glasses kept glancing left and right.
Seeing Troc leading a beautiful, hot girl into the room, the whole room seemed to fall silent for a moment.
Troc patted Linh on the back and introduced happily: “Boss, guys, this is Linh, my friend, just came from Vietnam to visit!”
The word “friend” was emphasized by him. Linh immediately felt the change in the atmosphere. It did not have the taboo barrier like “younger sister”. It was vague, it opened up many possibilities. And in the eyes of the old Japanese men, the “friend” of a young Vietnamese worker could be anything.
“Oh, Troc-kun’s friend is so pretty!” Sato-san burst out laughing, his voice hearty but his eyes never leaving Linh’s cleavage. “Troc-kun really has good taste. He looks like a beauty queen!”
Suzuki-san nodded and pushed up his glasses: “With such white skin and a beautiful figure, are all Vietnamese girls this beautiful? It’s truly admirable.”
The words were polite compliments but the eyes were so naked that they seemed to want to strip her of her clothes. Linh felt her cheeks burning. She bowed awkwardly and sat next to Troc. The clothes that she once felt confident in were now like an inviting sign, making her feel stupid and cheap.
The party began. Troc was very tactful, constantly talking, toasting the bosses, trying to steer the conversation towards work and upcoming projects. But the two bosses seemed to be only interested in Linh. They kept asking her about everything from her work in Vietnam to her personal interests and not forgetting to invite her to drink. Each time, Troc had to say: “Linh, she doesn’t know how to drink, let me drink for her.” He drank one glass after another.
Once the alcohol kicked in, the groping began in a more subtle way. While pouring sake for Linh, Sato-san intentionally placed the back of his hand on her breast “accidentally”. Linh jumped back in surprise, but he just smiled, pretending to be drunk. Another time, while passing by, Suzuki-san patted her shoulder intimately, but his hand deliberately slid down her back, groping her deliberately.
Linh just sat there, her body stiff as a stone statue, her palms sweating. Every time she did, she glanced at Troc, and every time she saw him looking at her, his eyes darkening.
The climax of the humiliation was when Sato-san, already drunk, sat close to Linh, so close that she could smell the strong smell of alcohol coming from his mouth. He put his arm around her shoulder in a rude manner.
“Linh-chan, have a drink with me. Please respect Troc-kun’s boss a little!” His hand not only put an arm around her shoulder but also started to move down to gently squeeze her waist, his thumb deliberately rubbing against her ribs.
Linh was stunned, a feeling of humiliation and disgust rose in her throat. She did not dare to move, only looking at Troc with pleading eyes.
She saw Bald’s jaw tense, veins bulging on his temples. He was staring at Sato-san’s hand on her. A terrible rage burned in his eyes, the primal fury of a man seeing his woman violated. Linh could almost hear his reason breaking down.
But then, in just a second, that rage was extinguished. Like a fire doused with cold water, it went out, leaving behind a haze of helplessness and utter pain. Linh had never seen her brother look like that. It was not just jealousy, but the torment of a man forced to choose between his pride and something more important.
Bald took a deep breath, a breath so deep that his chest heaved. He didn’t push the boss’s hand away. He did something else. He smiled, a smile that looked even more pathetic than crying, then raised his glass, both hands respectfully extended towards Sato-san.
“Sato-san, Suzuki-san, Linh has a low alcohol tolerance and cannot drink strong liquor. Let me, with my sincere gratitude, to toast you two with this glass. Thank you for always caring for and helping me with my work all this time.”
He then tilted his head back and drank it all in one gulp. That action made Sato-san take his hand off Linh to clink glasses with Troc. Troc then turned to Linh and whispered, loud enough for only she to hear: “Are you tired? Sit down and rest for a while, I’ll talk to the bosses for a bit and then we’ll go home.”
He had protected her in the only way he could. A mean, humiliating way, but one that required a terrible sacrifice. Linh sat still, her heart aching. She didn’t understand. Why did he have to suffer like this? What was he hiding?
After the meal, on the way home, Troc did not say a word. He walked ahead, his steps hurried, his back tall and lonely under the streetlights. When he got to the apartment, he did not turn on the living room light, just went straight to the refrigerator, took out a can of beer, stood on the balcony, and drank it in one gulp. Then a second can, a third. He drank like a man dying of thirst, trying to drown out something burning inside.
Linh sat on the sofa in the dark, looking at her brother’s back. She found him so strange and pitiful. She wanted to go closer to comfort him, but her throat felt blocked.
Drunk, Troc staggered into the house and sat down on the floor, his back against the sofa. He buried his face in his hands, his broad shoulders shaking from time to time.
“Damn it…” he muttered, his voice distorted by alcohol and pent-up emotion. “Kneeling down to those old men. Smiling at those bastards. Damn it!”
“Why?” Linh asked softly, breaking the silence for the first time. Her voice softened. “If the job is too hard, if they don’t respect me, I’ll quit. I’ll go back to Vietnam. Why do I have to suffer like this?”
Linh’s words seemed to touch Troc’s nerve. He suddenly raised his head, his eyes red and bloodshot, looking at her. In his drunken state, he could no longer control his words. He let out a bitter laugh.
“Return? You’re so good! Do you know how hard I worked to get to where I am today?” He almost shouted, his voice cracking with pain. “The permanent visa! Do you understand what it is? It’s my dream to stay in this country properly! It’s my future! Everything… everything is in the hands of those bastards! Just a nod, a good comment from them! Do you understand?”
Baldy hung his head, seeming to instantly regret revealing the secret he had tried so hard to keep hidden. He didn’t want her to know. He didn’t want her to sacrifice anything for his dream. He just wanted her to see him as a strong brother who could protect her.
But words once spoken cannot be taken back.
Troc’s words were like a bolt of lightning that struck Linh in the middle of her brain. Everything suddenly became clear. Troc’s helpless expression in the bar. His abject patience. The two bosses’ arbitrary actions. All for the permanent resident card. All for her brother’s dream.
In an instant, Linh’s mind worked with a terrifying clarity. All the disparate pieces of the puzzle suddenly came together, forming a complete picture, a sickly perfect solution. Her personal anger and humiliation were suddenly dwarfed by her brother’s sacrifice and future.
Mr. Troc’s lifelong dream was in the hands of those two old perverts. What they wanted: Her physical desire. What she had: This very body.
A crazy, powerful notion formed and took root in her head. She could handle it all. This wasn’t submission, it was a trade. A strategy.
If I take the initiative… If I use this body to “serve” them in a controlled way, turning it into a tool, a gift…
…Then Mr. Troc will get a permanent visa, achieving the dream he sacrificed his youth for.
…Then my husband, Duc Anh, will also be able to satisfy his cuckolding desire. He will go crazy with joy when he knows his wife sleeps with other men for such a “noble” purpose.
…And me… Linh took a deep breath. …I will also be able to satisfy the dark desires that I cannot deny. I will no longer be a passive and humiliating victim of harassment. I will be the one who actively controls the game, to give pleasure, to achieve my goals.
It was a perfect plan. A sacrifice that would please everyone, including herself. The feeling of guilt instantly vanished, replaced by a steely resolve, a chilling calm.
Linh looked at Troc, her brother, who was sleeping on the floor, drunk and tormented. Her eyes were no longer filled with pity. They were the eyes of a man who had found his path, a man who had found his destiny. A path filled with humiliation, but the only path that could free everyone.
This trip to Japan was no longer an escape. It had become a hunt. And she, the hunter, would use herself as bait.