Quick A/U: Hello everyone~! :D I am back, and yet with a new victim! Mitsunari has been chosen to succumb to this torture where he will be ensnared with the complexities of a deep romance, amidst the thorns of betrayal, and other obstacles. Sit back and enjoy, I worked hard on this one!
Quintessence of the obtuse, I ought to forestall such insalubrious disservice.
He was watching the men and women mingle with narrowed, tempestuous eyes.
Observing them closely, dissecting every single detail of the room… if Ishida Mitsunari was offered the chance to instead eat his dinner in the outside frost rather than amongst the fat Japanese men that flaunted their money by means of spending it on worldly extravagances, he would have gladly chosen the latter.
If the air infected with the heavy scent of sake and pomade could be painted a colour, he would use the term rather than colour aureate. The excessive livery that ordained the isolated teahouse was beginning to sicken the silver and purple-clad general; this was emphasized by the scrunching of his nose routinely at the heavy blanket of over-indulgences that surrounded him.
From the rich, overweight man sinking into the cushions behind him to the spoils the courtesans on either side of his overflowing obesity offered him, the entice to cut down such demon-like populace was beginning to reach breaking-point for the Ishida.
The whores seemed to enjoy their client's drunken, poorly active state probably because of the fact that he would soon fall unconscious and they would be relieved of their errant behavior… Mitsunari continued to scowl at the sheer repulsiveness of these women and their occupation. Why hadn't they as yet committed Hara Kiri, just put an end to their pitiful, empty lives already?
The tub of lard at this point was being fed fugu by the courtesans. They were giggling to him, whispering things of unimportance that perhaps the fat man had wanted them to tell him – things that with his carelessness and glutton, he was reduced to that of an animal… or perhaps even an animal had more of a conscience than he did.
The comparison would be a disgrace to even beasts.
Mitsunari had placed the payment for the mediocre meal on his table before standing. He gripped his odachi, feeling a sense of security now that he had assured himself of the weapon's presence and exited the crammed venue. He was advancing to his horse, untying the reins to the animal from its post while glaring at a couple engaged in verbal conflict. The man and woman were shouting so loud that their voices had pierced through the keen general's ears like a knife through silk.
...
Mitsunari had ignored them however, giving his usual response to the petty situation by offering his silence. Instead he had proceeded to mounting his horse when he was disrupted by a form flinging into him, catching him off guard completely. He had tightened his grip on the hilt of the meter-length sword, ready to cut down the mindless fools that dared to so rashly approach him—'You people make me sick…!'
Suzu tore herself away from the "wall", noticing the distance the men kept suddenly from her. She knew somehow that this was her chance to get away… that she could talk them into some form of guilt, some sort of persuasion that would allow her the second she needed to create that distraction.
'Please excuse our servant's despicable behavior in your presence, sir,' the men that only moments ago almost beat Suzu to her death had suddenly discovered civility.
They were bowing fully – noses in line with the ground, and bald heads shining with a matt finish beneath the cold light that from the teahouse spilt onto the deserted streets.
Suzu turned on her heel, coming face-to-face with a man whose skin was the colour of dampened paper. His hair had fallen in the shape of a triangle to the bridge of his nose – his features were sharp and his eyes, even though they were chartreuse, seemed colourless too by the heaviness of his entirety. She had held eye contact with the tall, pillar-like man for a moment, and in those brief seconds she could feel nothing but bitterness emanate from his core. The controlled vacancy of his accustomed-to scowl and pursed lips sent a chill down her spine, and she wondered if not for what seemed like an eternity beneath his glower, if this man really was human.
'Come here, Shi-chan,' her pursuers now addressed her affectionately; beckoning her with their hands like one would to a small child.
Suzu stared at them in disbelief of their two-faced nature. She scowled, biting into her gum as hard as she could so that she didn't scream in fear of the wall man at any moment now drawing his weapon to silence her. It was evident from his meticulous dress-code that he was a warrior – a general. Out of fear mostly though, Suzu could not find the courage to even move her body let alone think straight.
There's nothing but bloodlust in this man's eyes.
'Remove yourselves from my sight,' he said sternly before nodding in Suzu's direction.
The usual rough grip had seized her wrists once more. The men began to drag her away from the wall of a man. She was panicking suddenly at the thought of returning to that hellhole where her life was under another's rule. She didn't want to go back to that again… this was her precious chance to escape.
And yet I'm not going anywhere.
Suzu screamed, losing all self-control as she began to claw at the men that pulled her away, retracing their steps to the pleasure quarters. 'Let me go…!' she screamed, not caring for how dehumanized she probably looked at this point.
Driven by the taste of freedom that lingered on the surface of her tumultuous heart, Suzu pried her fists away from the iron grip of her capturers. Using their shock to her advantage, she sprung forward in a ruthless sprint before tripping over the folds of her white kimono beneath her. She flew into the gravel face-first – the cold stone cutting into her cheek, embedding shards of rock into the fresh grazes.
She winced, struggling to lift the weight of her weakened body off the floor with wounded wrists. Her hair had fallen over her shoulders in a moonlight curtain of threads, sticking to the sweat on her forehead, defying gravity even as the man had gripped into the mane and forced her to her feet.
'What kind of a man are you…' she grunted, having the men behind her spit bitter remarks about her appalling behavior.
They were dragging her away by her arms, holding her tightly, clutching her arms ruthlessly as they pulled her along the dirt pathway. Suzu was staring at the wall in disbelief, trying desperately to wonder what kind of an individual he is that he didn't seem to even acknowledge her struggle.
'Aren't you a general!?' she was crying at this point, unable to form a coherent sentence due to the extent of her distress that it even clouded over her reason to care anymore.
Ishida Mitsunari watched this commotion however with utmost apathy.
He simply stared at the injured, fair-haired woman with unpleasant manners whom at this point sobbed pathetically… Lord Hideyoshi would have done the same. Interfering would only cause a ruckus, which was something the warlord wasn't fond of.
He had pushed the incident to the back of his mind though and mounted his horse, disregarding the woman whose cries grew distant with their parting… Lord Hideyoshi would have done the same.
Suzu held eye-contact with the man who towered over her kneeling form. The men behind her at either side began to explain dramatically how they had pulled her away from begging a war general to buy her.
Lies, lies, lies, lies.
She continued to bite into her gum from the moment they'd brought her back. Her tears at this point had dried up on her cheeks. Their remnants embedded into the torn layer of dried blood from her jaw to her cheekbone, as if someone had rubbed red paste over the surface. Glaring at the man in charge of the brothel, Suzu scowled heavily at his haughtiness that thickened the air. She wanted to gag; to spit at him even since she didn't mind dying at this point; but was instead greeted by the usual dismissal of the servants that made certain of her return.
Father – the clergyman in charge of this house of sin – glowered at the wounded courtesan's apprentice, his eyes steely. This was the fourth time this month that the girl had brought about a ruckus, and after hearing that this din was especially associated with an army general, father could find absolutely no reason to let her go unharmed.
'Choose.' He muttered, pointing with his chin to the collection of reed sticks beside him.
Suzu didn't answer him. She remained silent in her spot on the floor, breathing unevenly due to the accumulation of blood that spilt from her nose prior to being beat by the servants that brought her back here. The complication her lungs were undergoing was nothing though compared to the things they'd made her endure in the past.
'I forget…,' father mumbled, glaring fiercely at Suzu's crumpled form on the floor through narrowed eyes. 'Beggars can't be choosers.'
He lifted the collection of sticks in his single fist, bunching the thin whip-like canes together, but Suzu maintained her composure. She continued to hold the intense glare she and the man in front of her shared, and growling at her attempt at being bold, acting as if she was unaffected by all his ruthless efforts to tame her like a wild animal, father struck her with the cluster of branches. He had made the first line of blood across her shoulder, tempted to make the next cuts on her face to wipe off the rebellious glint in her eyes, but he knew such rash action would cost him much in future.
Instead he watched her back fall. Her head almost touched the ground with the second blow from the reeds – the impact almost bringing her down completely – but she somehow managed to level her posture once again. Suzu had controlled the pain by biting into the flesh of her arm. She kept her teeth into the muscle; shutting her eyes tightly to stop herself from crying; to make sure she wouldn't scream – to make sure she wouldn't show this man even the slightest hint of weakness.
Little did he know that the lost, kidnapped first daughter of Emperor Go-Kashiwabara was an individual that brought up; without her mother; in the pleasure quarters was not taught obedience like the rest of the woman here who were swamped with nothing but debt.
Proper A/U:
Hyaaaa, reviews much appreciated if you'd be generous enough to offer any! .A. I'll love you to death, I swear!
Fugu - blow fish. It was a very highly-priced fish to eat for how potent its poison is, yet when prepared properly the meat is cut so finely it appears to look like the petals of a chrysanthemum.
Hara Kiri - honor killing; much like seppuku.