I do not own Bakumatsu Kikansetsu Irohanihoheto.
tanrengu written by me (1st try!)
Warning: Sou/Hiji. Eno/Sou. Yaoi. Some non-con referred to.
THOUGHTS: italicized: Hijitaka's POV only!
Basically, I've been watching this new anime... and Soutetsu has been on my mind... (seriously)... I can't just write him off... so here goes my attempt at trying to define in the indefineable... which is a very post-modern statement for me to make, since, that's what this whole fic is about. ha!
Read and review!
Realization
who has seen the wind
stride through frozen hills of snow?
unstoppable, plots his path.
There was something claustrophobic about the ship. Hijitaka could feel it, standing there on the side deck, looking out over the wooden railing. The grey-blue water, the white crested waves, thin clouds and weak sun surrounding that unwieldy box in the ocean. That box of cable, rigging, sail and wood...
Was it the ship? Really?
He'd been on ships before. This one was different...
Was it the future - uncertain future? The sense of inevitable doom as he traveled north?
Pushing away from the rail, Hijitaka turned around, looked at the ordered business of the crew and dissappeared downstairs.
If anything, talking to Enomoto should help. If this is the right thing to do... why do I feel so wrong? Akidzuki-kun... Ibaragi-san...
Enomoto was out on a private errand, one of the guards told Hijitaka.
Out on a private errand?
Hijitaka blinked - then narrowed his eyes.
Out... where? This is a ship! Private - how can an errand be private on a ship?
Hijitaka turned away, shaking his head.
This ship is...
His fists clenched at the memory of a face. A calm face. If it had been curvier and gentler, he'd have thought it was a woman's because of the paleness and long black hair. But no... the chin was stubborn and the eyes were narrowed. The mouth was -
Hijitaka shook his head. Thinking on the mysterious Ibaragi-san wasn't going to help him.
He knew that. From experience. For the past week, to be precise, when he was alone, in bed. In all the muddle, that face seemed most clear... It was pleasant... It was unpleasant. Hijitaka didn't know.
But if Enomoto is out, perhaps Ibaragi-san will talk a bit about his plans, Hijitaka hoped. False hope, his more realistic side told him. That "playwright" likes to hold his cards close to his chest... All you can do is watch him move and get there before you. Look at him - how he's there with Enomoto... it's...
Hijitaka was annoyed. The not-knowing was annoying - he stalked down the ship to the small private cabin which he knew belonged to the playwright. There was no reply to his first two knocks.
He knocked again.
Nothing.
Soutetsu was "out", too?
Hijitaka's eyes narrowed.
This ship isn't so small... where could Enomoto and Ibaragi gotten off to? Unless... this "private errand" is more or less... a secret talk? Making plans?
Standing there, uncertain of where to look, Hijitaka stiffened as something faint... something like footsteps... or...
Somebody was in the bedroom... Damn that MAN! Ignoring me like that!
The door opened. Hijitaka froze at the familiar face.
"Ahhhh... Enomoto-sama! I was - just... looking for you... to talk... but they said you were out..."
Hijitaka stared his ally down, for once unsure. It was unmistakable. Enomoto's ruffled hair... and that... that...
"But, I see you're busy," Hijitaka said coolly. "I'll wait..."
"Oh, no," Enomoto smiled. "I was going anyway." The Captain's slightly red-tinted eyes rested on the Japanese leader (who was backing away carefully). "Ibaragi-kun and I were just having... a private meeting. Perhaps you'd wish to speak to Ibaragi-kun?"
Ibaragi-kun? Ibaragi-kun?
Hijitaka forced a smile, "Oh... he's in?"
Good going, Hijitaka.
"He's always in for me," Enomoto said delicately, as he left the doorway, turning to stare at Hijitaka. "Ibaragi-kun and I..."
"Uh... that's fine. I understand..." Hijitaka backed away. "I better leave you to get to your duties."
Enomoto laughed.
"You wanted to speak to him, go ahead. He's all yours, metaphorically speaking, of course..."
With that the Captain turned away, impervious to Hijitaka's muted glare. Hijitaka relaxed as the man disappeared - the short conversation had seemed to last a lifetime.
When he looked up, he noticed - what I've been avoiding - the open door. It was an invitation.
What had Enomoto said again... He's all yours, metaphorically speaking of course... In other words, hands off... look but don't touch... What's he then, shameless? He deserves this...
But Hijitaka's gut twinged...
Envy? Concern? No...
He was there. Just as Hijitaka had imagined.
Well... yes and no.
Soutetsu... was there, raising himself to one hand, back to the door, his light kimono sliding off his shoulders, revealing a hard, muscled back...
Subtle to see, but he is a fighter, then... That playwright nonsense is just that...
It was mesmerizing to see him like this. The strong, calm, assured, manipulative playwright - unwrapped as it were... Physically bared.
But...
Hijitaka could only shake his head as Soutetsu twisted around carefully to survey his newest guest.
Even then... there is nothing revealed.
Those dark eyes allowed for nothing. No mercy. No pity.
There was a heavy silence.
"I don't remember inviting you in."
The rebuff hung in the air. Hijitaka shrugged, shutting the door behind him with finality, and finding a seat in front of a simple low dresser and mirror. He watched Soutetsu through the round glass - pulling the pale yukata closer.
"No. True. Enomoto-sama did."
Soutetsu's chin came down -
Stubborn as ever. Strong and quick - a match for you, Hijitaka. Or so you thought... but... this one's already... taken... unwrapped... owned.
Soutetsu's mouth curved down in his habitual, half-frown/half-smile.
"Enomoto doesn't own this bedroom. Why aren't you out the door, Hijitaka-sama? I told you to leave."
So polite, the challenge hung in the air.
"Oh? But Enomoto gave me carte blanche to do anything I wanted in return for my services, Ibaragi-kun... What about you, Sou-chan? Did he offer you anything else then a position under him?"
Even Hijitaka had to wince at his snide low-blow - but Soutetsu merely shook his head. Wrapping the kimono around him even further, Soutetsu walked over Hijitaka (who suddenly found a hairbrush very interesting).
"You're jealous?" Soutetsu laughed. "A leader of many men, pouting like a child?"
"I'm not!" Hijitaka snarled.
Why does he make me like this? Uncomfortable? Hot? Wanting? Full of -
Hijitaka tried to focus on the man's scent - that woody smell of Enomoto. That man was with Enomoto... they smelled of each other. It was disgusting -
It's a shame.
"You're protesting too much, I think," Soutetsu leaned down, head beside Hijitaka's -
Their eyes met in the mirror.
Hijitaka broke away first, face red.
"No. I'm not -" He paused, trying to get his racing heart beat in control.
All that stands between me -
"It's just that... You seemed the type to..."
All that stands between me -
"Find someone of equal power and -"
"Enomoto isn't my equal?"
Standing between me and him is -
"There's nothing there! There's -"
"I serve the Lord of -"
"Serve?"
A pause.
"You never serve," Hijitaka stated.
Another pause.
"What do you call this then?"
Soutetsu, shifted his kimono slightly - Hijitaka's face turned bright red at the sight of a small round bruise.
Standing between is only - is only -
He turned, and their faces were suddenly close - uncomfortably close -
Those lips. Those rounded lips still swollen...
His pants got suddenly tight. If his face got any redder, he was going to implode.
"I call that... manipulation..." Hijitaka breathed.
"So... I'm manipulating you now, Hijitaka-sama?"
The mouth curved upward, slightly.
Soutetsu was humoring him. Hijitaka's stomach flip-flopped.
"You're stupid! To think that!"
"So childish..."
"You're getting off topic!"
"And petulant... Hm. What am I to do with you, Hijitaka-sama?"
All that stands between me and him - is only - is only - a slight kimono...
And -
"I don't know. Why can't you decide for a change?"
Soutetsu chuckled dryly.
"I always decide. And I thought I did decide - for you to leave my room. Now."
And an iron will.
"Well... see... I was looking for Enomoto originally - and then, because he was out on a 'private errand', you..."
"Hmmmm... you wanted comforting? For me to tell you it was a good decision to be here. But, you can only know your reasons. The reason. Why should I repeat them?"
Hijitaka's fingers rose to gently entangle themselves in the long black hair, pulling the playwright closer.
"Well... Master Manipulator... or servant... I - think..."
A pause.
Those lips were so close - and yet... so far away...
"I think... I need some encouragement? Or..."
Their lips met suddenly and hard.
"Reassurance... Or... what you would call... manipulation... what I call..."
Another kiss.
"Service."
"For somebody who won't leave my bedroom for this, you talk too much."
"I thought you were a man of words..."
Hijitaka let the playwright push him back onto the bed, watching - as Soutetsu unbuttoned the constricting jacket and waistcoat - the kimono had fallen open again. It was an enjoyable sight. What he'd thought - imagined -
What he'd wanted... or thought he'd wanted...
Those long dark marks curving around the rib-cage were startling - but not suprising after a moment's thought.
Enomoto plays rough, huh? Poor Sou-chan...
Warmth drew away. Hijitaka refocused - to find that his partner had sat back to kneel between his legs. Soutetsu looked more than mildly put out.
"Soutetsu... sorry - I -"
Hijitaka shucked off his clothing before the playwright actually DID kick him out of his room.
"You had that look again..."
"Sorry..."
"Tch. If you don't like it, leave..."
"N-no-no. Sorry..."
Half an hour later, Hijitaka managed to wrestle the prickly Soutetsu into his arms. Soutetsu had taken the lead and somehow between the both of them, they'd found two climaxes together - at first awkwardly then slowly, getting more comfortable. But in the end, for Hijitaka, this was just as good...
It was nice to lie this way, curving his body around the other's, arm around Soutetsu's chest... Soutetsu's head pillowed on his shoulder. Long hair smelling of some foreign fruit... Or a flower? Legs tangling...
Hijitaka sighed in contentment.
"Are you done now?"
"So cold, Sou-chan."
A frozen silence followed that.
"It's Ibaragi Soutetsu..."
"And I'm Hijitaka-sama..."
Hijitaka lay there then smiled into the long black hair.
"I was going to ask you - is there love? - but that is not for this day..."
"Hn."
Soutetsu snorted.
"So... when did you say you were going to leave my room?" The playwright asked again. "Or are you going to keep me captive here forever?"
"Are we talking about what I want or what will happen?" Hijitaka reluctantly pulled back. "But this I know, you cannot hold the wind."
With that, he got up and quickly dressed and left without another word.
There was nothing more to say. Words would fail. They always did.
Before those eyes - those unfathomable, indescribable depths...
The man who looked one thing, said another and did something else entirely different.
Soutetsu... Sou-chan...
He hadn't tried to say anything either... didn't even watch, or turn around.
Hijitaka had did it. Had enjoyed it - the pleasures of that man. The services? Manipulations?
Even then... there is nothing revealed.
For he belongs to no one.
slipping past my fingers is
the face i will never know
OWARI!