Sometimes it feels just like I've fallen in the ocean.

- Blue October, Into the Ocean (2006)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hank turned the carriage house key in his hand as he wandered the manor that evening. "There are some great rides in there," he said out loud to himself. "It'd be cool to see how fast that Aston Martin goes."

He checked out every room he could find, since none of them had any doors. As he walked the hallways on the second floor, he remembered that Rio had said there was a Japanese bath somewhere. While searching for it, he smelled something unusual—anise and cloves mixed with tobacco. He followed the scent until he found himself standing in a dimly lit, decorated antechamber.

Rio's antechamber.

He seemed to have caught her at an off-guard moment, if she ever had one. She sat on a cushion upon a small stool in a recessed corner. The room was shadow-free, thanks to the estate's expert lighting, which cast just enough glow on the floor for Hank to see it was made of solid stone.

Rio sat on her heels, with her back to the entrance, where Hank stood and stared. Wisps of smoke curled around her head, as if incense were burning in a big clay bowl whose edges could seen, as it sat on a table in front of her. He wondered why someone who lived in fear would sit with her back to a wide open doorway, allowing anyone—and everyone—to walk in unannounced. He then realized that he hadn't surprised her, but only caused her to be annoyed.

Without looking over her shoulder, she straightened her posture in response to his presence. "What do you want?" she asked.

"Nothing, really. I just, ah… I smelled smoke."

Rio sniffed indifferently. She spun on her stool to face Hank, as more words poured from her mouth than he'd ever heard before.

"Yes, I smoke. Too much, you may think. But I don't care. I don't care what anyone thinks, and do you know why, chīsai koinu? Because I don't care what I think!"

Hank didn't spend much time wondering why Rio answered her own question because, for some reason, her eyes grew red. It was as if the spice in the bidi cigarette she was smoking had caused an allergic reaction. Then he noticed a tear.

And then, a lot of tears. Rio silently cried for, as far as Hank could tell, no reason at all. If Milton hadn't told him so many frightening things about her, he might have crouched beside her, to offer some comfort. But as Hank was prone to do, he merely stared as Rio took off her glasses and hung her head, letting big tears splash on the stone floor.

"You don't know what it's like in here!" she snapped, jerking her head up to glare in anger.

She tapped her temple with the index finger of the hand not holding the bidi. Looking perturbed at the stubby cigarette, she sucked another hit from it before twisting around to smash it into the clay bowl full of butts sitting on the table. After that, she stood up, holding a damp washcloth. She wiped her hands and dabbed her eyes before putting it back on the table. She then smoothed the pleats of her midnight blue skirt, and straightened the matching string tie attached to the neckline of her white blouse. The long business jacket she'd been wearing that day hung on a wooden hanger, itself on a peg in the wall near Hank's head.

Rio took one step towards her jacket—and Hank. He suppressed an incredible urge to back one step out of her quarters. It was a mighty effort, but his concern for her was great. Also, since she hadn't yet tried to kill him, he felt safe for now.

"This is the real world," she snapped, "so listen up! Do you know my best defense against Bad Guys? The Pacific Ocean! It will not last! They're influencing Reality, right here and right now!

"A lot," she added with annoyance, as silent Hank remained true to his nature.

"Why do you think Dots are persecuted? Others influence them to destroy Western civilization. Maybe the whole damn world! Not replace it, not subvert—they want to destroy! Anyone like you or me or Milton, or any other do-goody-good do-gooder who Reals up sunny skies and summer days, and happy crap like that!"

Rio burst out bawling. She yelled at a corner of the ceiling, trying to keep in her tears. "You dumb Dots don't know what's happening! You're so stupid!"

It took all Hank's timid nature to keep from taking Rio up in his arms and comforting her as she cried. She set her dark eyes upon him. Not even the smallest of his intentions escaped her notice.

"Don't feel sorry for me!" she snarled through her sobs. "Do you know how hard it is to keep you dumb Dots from getting your butts kicked? Who do you think Reals up support? Milton and I, we bust our ass, keeping you safe and alive!"

Rio waved her arms, gesturing chaotically. She pointed at people who weren't in the room.

"I know lots of RMers like you! Tons! They're everywhere!"

Rio stopped pointing at far-away people, and let her arms hang at her sides. She found it hard to snarl as she spoke to the floor.

"And they're getting taken out, one by one, as Bad Guys look for me."

She slumped as her head sunk lower. Two more tears, one from each eye, splashed on the stone floor. In the partial darkness, her graceful features made her look weak and vulnerable. But when she raised a hand to brush away further tears, polished fingernails flashed like switchblades, glowing dangerous.

She heaved on her breath, using its momentum to raise her head just barely enough, to stare at her intruder. He stooped to get a better view of her tear-stained face. Neither of them moved, nor said a word, for a long moment in time. Even without her signature red eyeglasses, and her wavy black hair in her face from having flailed her arms, Rio managed to pierce Hank with her gaze.

His eyes were, as always, butter brown and gorgeous. Although she was near-sighted, Rio could make out his long lashes whenever he cared to blink. They fluttered on his face with a life of their own.

He knew she was picking thoughts from his brain as if they were written on paper. He tried doing the same to her. Failing, he imagined what it must be like to be Rio. So small and alone and afraid of a creepy pack of killer clowns somewhere out in a big mean world, wishing she were dead.

That has got to suck, Hank thought as he concentrated hard on scary Rio.

He imagined what he might do for her, if he could do anything he wanted. He'd help her shed her layers of pain, forsaking the leather-studded armor she wore around her heart for the beauty of a flower. For like a flower without the light, locked up and breathless from the sun, inside, Rio was dying. Not from the cruel hands of Others, but from the lifeless tomb she feared to escape.

If he could just breathe life in her. Let love rain down like water. Take her, young and sweet and innocent, to that sun-splotched summer land he knew had to be out there somewhere, to frolic on soft warm grass.

I want to help. I wish you were happy. I do. I really do.

Rio lowered her head and stared at the stains her tears had made. She broke the silence with a voice too small to be hers.

"Ah shit, Hank," she said. "I'm all fizzed out, you see? I'm one of Milton's Poppsies, left open and alone. Like I dropped on the floor, and everything is gone."

Her heavy head rose to set dark eyes on Hank, her humor granting a wry smile. "I feel like such a loser."

He implored with earnest. "You will never, ever be a loser. Ever," he said again, as it made her smile grow.

Another moment passed, until Rio's small voice returned.

"You can hug me now."

Reality changed in an instant. The lights in the room brightened. Rio stood strong and dominant—powerful, ferocious—but softer somehow. She became more personable. She became obtainable.

She became beautiful. So beautiful that Hank took the steps he needed to close the space between them. He stooped low and wrapped her up in long lanky arms, her face finding solace in the soft cotton safety of his pullover shirt.

Rio could squeeze hard for a woman her size. She made Hank gasp for breath.

"You're a Good Guy, right?" she said into his shirt. "You're not bad, are you?"

"I'm good. Please don't kill me."

"What?"

She pushed him away so she could look up at his face. His almond butter eyes were open wide, yet hidden behind an eyelash jungle. A high-pitched giggle, the kind Japanese girls do well, burst from her tear-streaked face.

"What?" she asked again, between girlish giggles.

"Uh, Milton said that… um, you'd kill me if I were bad."

"Oh, that guy is such a ham!"

She shook her head and buried it back in his shirt. He took his turn at hugging tight, trying not to touch her boobs or butt. She was small and busty, and his hands were big, so it wasn't easy, but he managed.

Rio sighed with content. "I don't kill Bad Guys," she said from the warmth of his embrace. "I could, I suppose, but I don't. That would make me bad too, would it not? I isolate them. I deceive. Set traps and make them lose."

After a pause, she added, "Sometimes, if I have to, I make them kill themselves."

Hank shuddered at her final words. Still squeezing hard, she bent her back to look up again at his face. His unkempt sandy hair was like the mane of a wild animal she wanted to train.

"The Bad Guys lose," she said to his face.

"The Bad Guys lose," he repeated.

"Bad Guys always lose."

"Bad Guys always lose." How is she doing this?

Rio continued staring, waiting until Hank blinked. Satisfied with his performance, she again submitted her face to his shirt, closing her eyes tight while pressing her entire body against him.

She smelled absolutely edible. Licorice and cinnamon and cloves mingled with the musk of tobacco and the crisp scent of her dry-cleaned clothes. The essence of herbal shampoo drifted from her head. Even after shaving and showering, with clean clothes and his favorite cologne, provided by Milton's unending generosity, Hank felt sure there was no way he smelled as good to Rio.

He couldn't have been more wrong. Rio was a woman driven by her sense of smell more than a person ought to allow. Her mind ran wild with randy thoughts as she breathed in every gram of Hank's delicious manliness.

"Ah, but they do not lose," she continued, as they each fought off what their noses were telling them to do. "Not like they should. It's me against them, and maji de! They want me dead. They know I fuck with them."

The sound of Rio cussing made it hard for Hank to stay soft. "Do you want to know why I smoke?" she asked, oddly changing the subject.

"Not really."

"It's the only bad habit I keep after running to find Milton. I was alone, so I say, 'Fuck it. I do what I want.' Every terrible thing they do felt like a personal loss. They won't stop, and I can't stop hurting. They pick me apart, the filthy beasts, piece by piece by piece."

Rio paused to gather up courage before laying bare the most painful part of her confession. "I wanted to die. Arāra! I wanted to very much. So it would look like I don't give up. I felt dead anyway, you see, broken from the burden of a cross too heavy to bear."

Rio drew her next breath through Hank's shirt, using his masculine scent to strengthen her resolve. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, and sucked all of him in.

"Even though I break, I won't stop fighting. I will not let them win!"

A sob wracked her body. Hank placed his hand on her head and stroked her like a kitten, calming her troubled mind so she could continue with her confessiion.

"So I try doing it for them. I figure, you see, if I don't die as a hero, I die in shame instead. I drank. I smoked. I did drugs. I did anything I could to try to not care. To give up. To lose."

"Stop saying that. You're not a loser. You will never, ever be one."

She rewarded him with a firmer hug as she continued. Her lips curled with disgust.

"Hai. I could not do that either. So when I smelled their rotten breath so very near to me, I ran. I left everything. Nothing and no one came with me as I roamed the world alone."

Rio grew silent. She couldn't go on. Hank remembered he had a paper napkin from Milton's kitchen in his front pants pocket. He pried her body far enough away so he could dig it out, and offered it to her.

"Thank you," Rio sniffed.

"You're welcome, Rio-san. Dō itashimashite."

"Ah, Hank-sama, you really are sweet. Dōmo arigatō."

She busied herself with the napkin, pressing her pelvis against him to stay in contact with his body before releasing him from her arms. She then turned her head to wipe her nose and face.

He held her by firmly the waist while she blew her nose. "You don't have to tell me this," he said in a soft voice. "I like you the way you are."

Rio gave her big nose two feminine honks before wiping it one more time. She carefully folded the napkin before dropping it to the floor. She then gripped Hank by his forearms to keep his hands on her waist, before rising to her toes. Bending back as far as she could, she got a good look at his eyes without those long lashes in the way.

"Take credit for who you are," she said as an order. She practically bullied him. "Seriously. Don't be a mouse. Now shut up and listen."

Hank rolled his eyes and patted her head, as she resumed hugging him.

"When I got here, I found Milton, or maybe he found me. I told him everything—things I never tell. And then I told him to help."

Hank interrupted, speaking to the crown of her head. "You told him to help?"

"Yeah. I told him. I tell people what to do." She spoke in a brazen huff. "It's who I am. I'm assertive, do you see?"

"I'm kind of finding that out."

"He makes things better for people like me, so I ran to him like a child. I was scared. He was not."

Hank laid a small kiss on Rio's head.

"He is such a sap," she said with a laugh. "But now, I'm not so scared. Not of Death, anyway. He knows what to do. He's brave and kind. I love him very much.

"And no! Not like that!" Rio scolded, as she knew what Hank was thinking.

She punished him with a thump on the chest, hard enough to hurt, before snuggling back into him. He found her to be exceptionally rough, as she rubbed her chin on his sternum while shaking him for emphasis.

"I mean, come on! He's my papa bear! He swats away my fear like bees, keeping them from the honey he sees in me."

Hank interrupted again. "Ah… Papa Bear? Honey?"

Rio unwrapped Hank from her arms and grabbed his ribcage from underneath. She dug in her fingers hard enough to show she could make him stop breathing if she cared to.

"Look here, Pretty Boy. If you tell Milton my pet name, I'll break you like a mule."

Rio's threat caused Hank only slight concern. Perhaps he was becoming braver, but more likely it was because she kept her pelvis pressed against him while she punished him. He spoke to her twisted smile.

"I am not a pretty boy."

"You have pretty eyes," she shot back, as if he didn't know.

"Does Milton call you Honey?" Hank asked, after a long moment of staring.

"Mmm, no," she said into his shirt, hugging him again.

He again stroked her hair. Can I call you Honey?

She spoke wistfully, sounding old. "It's been two of us, Milton and me, for a long time now, and bad Realities get worse. Every time a Dot gets PEPed, a can of whoop-ass opens up. They get beat down and overwhelmed, despite their humble nature."

Rio swallowed hard before giving Hank more praise. "When you make Reality happen, you push the world the way other people want it to be. In a way that makes them happy. You bring out what's good in the worst of us. Pass no judgment, show compassion, offer everything, and ask no reward."

Rio found the belt loop centered on the back of Hank's brushed black denim jeans. She played with it by pulling hard, as if doing so would make him naked.

"You never make a single selfish Reality for yourself." She reared back again to look up at his eyes, teasing with great honor. "It's ridiculous. Really. You're too nice to be true."

"Well, here I am," he said to her fake contempt.

Rio pulled hard on the belt loop, then let go, causing his pelvis to thump her stomach. As it did, she deftly pried his hands from her body, holding him again by the elbows. She then leaned back as far as she could, forcing him to keep her from falling flat on her back. To do this, he grabbed her firmly by both sides of her ribs.

Hank breathed heavy, but not from effort, for Rio was rather light. But the meaty folds of her breasts now rested on his thumbs, and his hormones raced like crazy.

"I have a hard time believing in you," she said from her precarious position, craning to look at his face. "I pored over all your Realities, and none give you benefit, other than a job and a place to live."

Rio swayed from side to side, leaning further back each time, trusting Hank to not let her skull crack on the stone floor. He obediently kept her safe, even though he very much wanted to reel her in for a kiss.

"You're a busy man. You have Realities everywhere. You hand them out like candy. Nothing big, nothing fancy, but each a thoughtful gesture."

Rio closed her eyes and suddenly released her grip on Hank's elbows. She let her arms dangle and her head hang back, placing her life in his hands. His eyes grew wide while experiencing this exercise in trust. After half a minute of hanging helpless in his arms, she groped blindly at his sides for two more belt loops on his pants. Pulling herself to safety, and again wrapped in his arms, she pressed an ear to his chest and listened to his heart pound.

"I followed every candy-coated Reality you give. Every single one. I just finished my investigation when you walked in, you see. I'm sorry I skipped Milton's get-together, but I do my job. I mean, you've got many, many thousands of little Realities. I don't know how you do it."

Rio wanted nothing more than to have Hank hold her forever. She couldn't remember feeling this way about a man before. It would have freaked her out at any other time in her life, but here, safe in her quarters in Milton's mansion, being held by who was probably the nicest person in the world, nothing seemed more perfect.

"I can't find an ounce of ill will in your body. You have no hate, no envy."

"You can stop talking, please," Hank said, growing tired of Rio's praise.

She knew she should release her affectionate prisoner, but couldn't bring herself to it. Soon though, or they'd start sweating.

"It borders on bizarre. I have to trust Milton, that he knows what he does. I hope you can help. I do. He brought me here, and now you too, for the very same reason. You have to help."

I have to help?

"Just don't let go of me until I say I'm okay."

You don't have to worry about that.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yay! That is The End of The Book of LIBERALITY, the first of seven Light Novels that make up the story called DOTS.

What do you think so far? Aren't Hank and Rio kawaī??? 💖✨🦋✨💖

The Book of LIBERALITY - Chapter TWELVE

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