Note of caution: Historical inaccuracies (and out of characterization) and typos abound. Please take all historical references and timelines with a grain of salt.


Osaka, 1850's

He fucking hated the cages.

He stood there, behind the wooden latticed window, frozen and unable to breathe. A flimsy barrier was all that stood between him and the nameless men with perverted leers carved on their lustful lips. Their ogling stares unashamedly undressed him with their eyes, running over every inch of his body from head to toe, knowing that with the right amount of money, they would be able to freely do so with their own hands.

Soon.

In a week's time.

Yuuri sat up on his futon with a small jolt. His arms flailed around the dark room, grasping at nothingness, chest heaving with painful gasps as if he were drowning and deprived of air. Small beads of sweat trickled down his face and throat and he distractedly wiped them away with the edge of his sleeve. He buried his face in his upturned knees, trying to steady his pounding heart. He curled into a small ball, arms wrapped around his legs and his hands rhythmically clenched and unclenched as each wave of terror washed over him.

If he closed his eyes, he could still see the red glow of the brothels… could still smell the lust permeating the air thickly…

He scrunched up his face and groaned. He crawled on all fours and slid the door a fraction of an inch open. The faint rays of the setting sun tinted the sky into a haze of lavender hues and signalled yet the end of another day. Outside the walled district, the city streets were slowly filling up with people trudging their way back to their homes, work weary and eager to seek respite from the cloying summer heat.

But as daylight turned dimmer and the first flicker of stars dotted the skies, the enclosed district of Shinmachi merely started to stir from slumber, the bright glow of street lamps gradually illuminated the walkways leading through the area.

Yuuri had to force himself to turn away from the faint twinkling of stars. There was no time for that now—or any other night for that matter.

The brothel was a flurry of activity in preparation for the guests to come. Grudgingly, he stood up and changed into a simple black kimono with red inner linings. He haphazardly laced the ties at his side and padded out the door into the mildly chaotic clamour. There was no need to be perfectly presentable at this moment. Yuuko would probably have worked herself into a state by now, wondering where he was.

He knocked at Yuuko's door and silently made his way in, sliding the door shut with a dull thud.

"Yuuri~!" Yuuko whined from where she sat in front of the dressing table, filled to overflowing with makeup and powders and trinkets. She pouted red lips at him when he took his place by her side.

"Sorry I'm late, Yuuko-neechan," Yuuri murmured in a low voice.

Yuuko seemed to take in his slightly disheveled appearance and he ignored the unspoken question in her eyes. He picked up the obi where it lay folded on the wooden box and reached graceful arms around the older woman to deftly wrap it around her slim waist with experienced fingers.

"Just a bit tighter, Yuuri," she breathed out.

Yuuri flicked curious eyes at the head courtesan and their gazes met in the mirror.

"Hnn?"

A faint blush spread over the tips of her ears.

"Are we expecting any special guests tonight?" Yuuri teased as he placed the finishing touches to the obi, tugging to making sure everything was securely held in place. It was the middle of the week and Yuuko's patron usually frequented the brothel on the weekends.

"As a matter of fact," Yuuko murmured. She waited for the young man to take the bait, but at his answering silence, she sighed in defeat. Her charge was arguably either clueless or maybe he simply didn't give a damn in matters of the brothel. She desolately suspected it was the latter and she did not want to think about the implications now

"I actually have it on good authority that we are expecting a foreign prince tonight, Yuuri! A real Prince. Can you believe it?!" She could all but have blinded Yuuri with the sparkle in her eyes at the mention of royalty.

The lid of the wooden box Yuuri held clattered on the floor. Yuuri gaped at her for a long second as he processed the information, then shook his head laughingly, his lips pursed in a small smile.

"Onee-chan, there is a higher chance of my enormous debt being paid within the year than that of a foreigner being here in Ja—"

"Yuuri!"

The shoji slid open unceremoniously and Minami stumbled into the room then sank into a polite bow of apology in front of the two.

"Sorry for barging in all of a sudden. Minako-san asked me to check if you were ready yet."

"But I wasn't even supposed to be entertaining tonight...," Yuuri whined. He hated how he sounded so pitiful but he was supposed to help Yuuko get ready and then have a day off of sorts by helping to clean out the other rooms instead of attending to guests.

He still did not understand what was so appealing about him and why he would get no less than two requests on a regular night for his company.

"Sorry, Yuuri. Minako-san said she specifically wants you and Yuuko Onee-san to greet the guests who are arriving early tonight.

The young man huffed but he knew he did not really have a choice in the matter. His body was literally owned by the brothel for all the purposes it served.

"I will get ready," Yuuri sighed dejectedly.

He felt Yuuko touch his shoulder with concern.

"It's okay, Onee-san." The smile didn't quite reach Yuuri's eyes.

"I'll talk to you later okay? About...," her words trailed off as if she didn't know how to broach the subject.

And she didn't. Because those closest to Yuuri knew that it was a sensitive, and if he were completely honest with himself, a sore topic to speak about.

Minami scrambled to his feet and followed Yuuri out of the room to help him prepare for the evening.

Yuuri knows he cannot avoid it any further. The issue was like a phantom hovering behind him and wherever he went, eyes would follow him and whispers were exchanged in his wake. He pretended not to hear, not to notice, but as the date drew near, people seemed less inhibited and more prone to give in to their morbid curiosity, anything to stave off the boredom from daily life in a brothel.

Is that...?

next week …?

Which lucky bastard?

…..how much...?

It was not any different now as Yuuri rushed to his room with clenched jaws, ignoring the shifty eyes and wagging tongues. It did not help his case that he was to debut as apprentice to the head courtesan of their brothel, nor that the Owner seemed to favour him as well.

He remembered the whispers in the hallway.

'How much?' indeed. How much was his virginity worth to the scum of Shinmachi? He was curious, but at the same time repulsed by the very idea. Chills ran down his spine and he had to take in a stuttering breath to try and focus at the task at hand.

He had wiped off the sweat from his body and now, he looked at his reflection in the mirror and saw nondescript brown eyes and pale skin. He turned his head this way and that, objectively scrutinizing to figure out exactly what it was about himself that seemed to lure customers in. He looked too pale, he decided. He could imagine Minako berating him, his ears ringing with the imagined scolding already so he applied just a hint of rouge across his lips.

Yuuri scrunched up his face and tried to concentrate on breathing as Minami brushed his hair until it shone. He reached up and tugged at his fringe. The front part of his bangs was short and curled with a life of it's own and he would sometimes slick it away from his face and yet at the back, his hair fell down to his waist, the strands long and soft and dark as midnight.

His thoughts drifted back to Yuuko's fretting. He already knew who was primed to win the bidding and it made his skin crawl just thinking about it. His skin broke out in gooseflesh even though it was too warm in the room.

"Yuuri," Minami whispered.

He just shook his head to show nothing was wrong. He gasped as Minami hugged him from behind in an attempt at comfort.

"It will be okay, Yuuri," the smaller boy whispered against his back, the promise already broken the moment it left his lips.

"Thank you, Minami," Yuuri patted the boy's hand in an awkward attempt to reciprocate.

"Let's go. We don't want the guests to wait."

oOo

He was on his way to the large banquet hall reserved for special occasions. From outside the latticed window and across the street, he could see other courtesans already on display at the harimise, the wooden cages. And he was reminded of how much he loathed and detested the cages. The courtesans stood proud and alluring, beckoning to the passions of the filthy pigs ready to throw money in exchange for their tainted lusts to be sated. It was a working display of peddled flesh that made bile rise up in Yuuri's throat every time he saw it.

He hated what it symbolized, and he hated that soon he would be part of that debauchery as well. He used to be indifferent to the open perversion that was the basis of everyone's livelihood in the district. But now, nausea worked its way up his chest as the sight of the cages inadvertently reminded him that he only had a week of this distorted version of untouchedness he had left.

He did not mind entertaining the guests with music and dance that much , nor did he mind earning his lodgings through manual labour at all. But the price he has to pay is high, and even though Minako treasured him and treated him well, a debt owed was a debt to be settled and the only way he could pay it was with his body, or his life.

Whichever claimed him first.

Which in the grand scheme of things was ironically pretty much the same thing, he mused deprecatingly.

And so, here he was, tutored in the finer arts just so he can be initiated into a perverted world where his body was the prize and the money he earned would help to lessen his debt miniscule by miniscule amounts.

It was said that sometimes a courtesan worked all their life and still could not pay back the debt they owed.

A cold chill ran down Yuuri's spine at the thought and he bit his lip and drew blood.

The neighing of horses outside the gate of their brothel jarred him from his dark thoughts and he peeked outside, curious despite himself. The moon was full and bright, lending ample illumination to see the walkway leading to the entrance.

He saw a cloud of silver hair waft down from the carriage in a trail of gossamer and a deep chuckle that drifted up to him and tickled his ears.

Silver?

He couldn't believe his eyes and stood on tiptoes, trying to get a better view but the group had already disappeared over the threshold.

He remembered his joking taunt to Yuuko just now and he squashed the tiny gleam of something warm blooming in his belly.

"Yuuri?" Yuuko appeared behind him and he looked at her from head to toe. She had the classic beauty that was popular and it was no small wonder why she was highly sought after. She held herself regally, as if a queen by her own right. Which, she actually was. The deep reds and yellows of her kimono and the trinkets in her hair all spoke of the wealth and prosperity of her danna , her patron.

"You look stunning as always, Onee-san," Yuuri whispered. She took a step towards him and laid a hand on his cheek.

She smiled at how her apprentice was dressed down with a simple purple kimono topped with a patterned robe. Yuuri kept his fringe pushed away from his face and the longer strands at his nape were tied into a braid that was draped over his shoulder. She mentally shook her head at how much different Yuuri was to the others who lived for clothes and ornaments and the latest fashions and yet he could outshine them all wearing even the rattiest robes.

Her eyes turned serious and Yuuri noticed the shift immediately. He steeled himself, knowing what was to come.

"Yuuri… about the mizuage…."

Yuuri's eyes shut close and he took a deep steadying breath that knifed up his chest.

He did not want this, did not want to show anyone just how terrified and just how broken over the upcoming debut he was.

"Nishigori-sama is willing to bid and try to win,"she whispered in the silence that followed.

His eyes flew open as tears threatened to fall against the corners and his face visibly crumpled in shock.

No. No. No. No.

NO!

His mind played an endless string of denials at Yuuko's suggestion. He could not even wrap his mind around the thought of Yuuko's patron trying to bid and win.

He blinked, trying to focus on anything that his vision filling up with tears allowed. He saw Yuuko's fists held tight at her sides, her nails digging into the palms. Enlightenment filled Yuuri in that instant.

Ahhh… of course.

Of course this was causing Yuuko pain as well.

"Onee-san, I couldn't… don't… don't do this… please..." Yuuri begged brokenly. And he knew without a doubt what had driven Yuuko to do this, that he had driven her to this corner with his moping around and avoidance of the topic. What she must have gone through to approach her own patron, the reason she was leaving Shinmachi to live a normal life and leave all the debauchery behind, and ask him to bid for Yuuri, he could only imagine. But he could not dare to taint the most precious thing she has right now, even if it meant the respite that he had so desperately wanted.

"But Yuuri…." Yuuko leaned up to plant a kiss on his cheek. "As long as it is you…"

The smile that he gave her in response was sad yet infinitely gentle. "Arigatou," his voice rumbled in his throat. "I appreciate the sentiment but I couldn't do that, Onee-san."

I couldn't do that to you.

"Oh, Yuuri," she leaned their foreheads together and they couldn't have been more bonded as sister-brother in that moment. "Just remember that the offer still stands. In case you change your mind."

She gave him a searching look.

He could only nod in return, the words stuck in his throat, his lips unsure how to give shape to the emotions he was feeling.

oOo

"Ah finally, our most prized jewel and her apprentice makes an appearance~" Minako enthused brightly as Yuuri entered the room behind Yuuko. He snuck a suspicious glance at the Owner and the bowl of sake she was holding and the tell-tale flush on her cheeks.

Seated at the table were two guests, an older man with a beard and grey hair who sat at the head of the table, and a much younger man who had his long locks tied up on a ponytail on top of his head, who sat on the old man's right side. His hair was indeed the silver-blond that he saw when the guests arrived and he felt a quiet itch in his palm that wanted to test if it felt as soft as it looked.

"A pleasant evening to you." Yuuko murmured as she settled on the older man's left and Yuuri was forced to settle beside the older man's right side, and inadvertently, beside the young man as well.

He took his cue from Yuuko and he whispered "A pleasant evening to you," unsure whether the foreigners even understood Japanese even as he made a small, polite bow.

"A pleasant evening to you, too," came the quick reply. Yuuri could not help his jaw dropping as he considered whether he misheard the words that escaped the young man's lips. And then he made his first mistake.

With jaw agape he turned up to look straight into bright blue-green eyes that were wide with something half akin to wonder and laced with curiosity. Long and heavy eyelashes as pale as the young man's hair framed those exquisite orbs and Yuuri could not look away as the man blinked once, twice.

His eyes traced the straight line of the man's nose and down to rosy lips that were curled into a half-smile. He watched dumbly as the smile faded and a pink tongue darted out to lick at the bottom lip.

"Ah, maybe my Japanese is not so good. I am sorry. Please don't take offense." The accent was stilted and off, heavy and yet strangely enthralling. Yuuri felt the man's voice wrap around him and he could melt on the spot just listening to him speak like that.

Yuuri finally snapped back to his senses when Yuuko shot him a look from behind her fluttering hand fan. He tried to remember how words formed on his tongue.

"I…. uh…."

How did that work again? Words? Speaking? It was a difficult feat to accomplish when the pretty man was still fixated on him, questions playing at the edges of his eyes, the little smile now back and playing on his lips, as if in invitation to speak more.

The young man blinked. And Yuuri blinked back. And then Yuuri was torn whether to keep on staring at his beautiful eyes and the shadows his lashes cast against those perfect cheekbones or on his pretty lips shaped into a heart-shaped smile.

Yuuri's brain was trying to catch up to the images his eyes were sending in quick, rapid succession, unable to properly process everything.

He was still busy trying to figure out how it was possible to have a smile shaped like a heart when Yuuko coughed from the other side of the room, a little loudly this time.

With a jolt, Yuuri finally came to his senses and scrambled to form a coherent response. "I think your Japanese is very good. It's amazing that you have such a... good grasp of our language" Yuuri breathed out lamely in a rush. He looked down at his lap and frowned. When did he start wringing his hands on his lap and make a wrinkled mess of his kimono?

He groaned inwardly, wondering why he chose this kimono, now of all times. It was purple and drab; the dye had long faded from the brilliant color it once was. Yuuko told him they were expecting royalty, right? He should have dressed up and not dressed down. It's not that he had nothing more presentable to wear; he was just that stubborn. And so, he could only blame his stubborn self who seemed so intent on avoiding going out of his way to please customers.

Yuuri dared to look up from underneath his lashes and what he saw took his breath away for a second time.

There was a faint flushing of pink on the man's cheeks, whether from embarrassment or pleasure at the praise, Yuuri wasn't sure. But he looked lovely like this, seemed to look lovelier the longer Yuuri looked at him.

"Thank you. I have heard a lot of things about your country. That is why I insisted that we explore the city while we had permission to go around."

Yuuri was not sure about what to say in response to that. It feels like his brain had short-circuited and needed a complete overhaul. All the training Minako and Yuuko put into him flew out the sliding doors the moment he saw those deep blue eyes that he can drown himself into. He was so out of it he even forgot to panic as the situation spiralled completely out of his control.

Yuuko cleared her throat and gave a shy giggle, subtly taking command of the situation.

"Apologies for our rudeness as we have not been able to introduce ourselves yet."

Minako seemed to have come to her senses as well, her attention riveted on the exchange between the two men, her gaze indecipherable. "This is Count Yakov and his nephew, His Royal Highness, Prince Victor from Russia."

She gestured towards Yuuko and introduced her as the brothel's head oiran, and to Yuuri as her apprentice-in-training.

"Yuuri," the blue-eyed man repeated wonderingly.

Yuuri decided then and there that one of his favorite things was hearing his name on the young prince's lips.

"It is an honor to meet you, Victor-sama," the brunette murmured. And despite himself he wondered how much of that was lip service, the response automatic when introduced to some high-ranking official, and how much he actually meant this time.

The heat in his cheeks have already betrayed him and belied the real answer.

"Yuuri is a much anticipated addition to the ranks of the courtesans here in Shinmachi," Minako whispered, as if letting them in on a little secret. "He will be debuting in a week's time, so play nice okay?" With that cryptic phrase, she hastily made a retreat, leaving the guests with the courtesans' expertise.

Yuuri flushed to the tips of his ears. Well, he definitely did not want to talk about that now. And Minako even dared to leave after innocently dropping that bomb in the room.

There was a question in the angle of Victor's head and he was alternating his gaze between Yuuri and Yuuko, as if an answer can be found in between the two of them. "Debut?" Victor had his head tilted to one side, as if trying to figure out what a debut was for.

Yuuri could barely hear Victor's soft spoken question over the roaring in his head.

Yuuko laughed nervously. "Maybe Victor-sama can know more about that er- uhm… practice in the... future."

"I see." It was obvious that Victor did not see at all but he had seemingly accepted this evasion of the topic. It was so polite and considerate of him that something warm in the depths of Yuuri's chest started to unfold.

Yakov seemed primarily uninterested in the conversation, helping himself to more sake as Yuuko poured generously for him.

Yuuri regained his bearings once more and offered to refill Victor's cup as well and Victor smiled gratefully at him.

A lovely flush settled on Victor's cheeks as the night wore on with each sip of sake he took. The prince's drinking stamina was nothing short of amazing and as Yuuri refilled each cup, he could also feel the man's gaze linger longer and longer each time he thought Yuuri was not looking.

Yuuri felt hot and bothered and extremely self-conscious under Victor's lingering stares. And he could not help but steal his own glances of Victor, watching the soft glow of the lamp play across his features. He looked so pale and fragile and beautiful and Yuuri's throat ran dry when he snuck a secret glance at that solid looking chest, those well-formed arms and those strong looking thighs.

Where Yuuri was lithely formed to the point of being almost thin, Victor looked well-built and Yuuri was sure the way the uniform clung to the prince's chest was a sin.

It was an unsettling impression for Yuuri to have of someone he had just met, to feel the initial pull of desire so strongly that he felt unlike his normal self.

Yuuri might have lived in the brothel more than half of his life and he was certainly not an innocent in what happens in the brothel, as untouched as he was, but he was not acquainted in feeling the first stirrings of arousal blossom in his chest and crawl towards his gut.

Was this what they felt like, those men who chased and paid after pleasure night after debauched night? Was this the feeling that created the existence of the entire red-light district? Yuuri wasn't sure but he certainly could not find anything dirty, or lecherous about what he was feeling towards Victor.

It felt like something good, instead of something to be ashamed of.

Victor looked every bit like the prince in his red military uniform with the gold padding and the gold accents on the collar. He wore a coat of arms on his chest as well and it gleamed in the warm glow of the lamp.

"Вкусно!" Victor was feasting on katsudon among a few other things that Yuuko has ordered for the guests when she found out they had not had a proper dinner yet.

"Kus...Na?"

Yuuri wanted to crawl inside a hole when he realized how ineloquent that sounded.

Yuuko was shooting him knowing and reproaching looks again.

"It means delicious in Russian~ Yuuri, Ahh~ is this what gods eat?" Victor seems to have adapted quickly to the chopsticks as opposed to Yakov's grumbling with the heathen things. Yuuri pretended not to notice Yakov's annoyance as Yuuko tried to teach him how to eat without spilling the whole bowl over himself.

"I don't know about the gods but it seems like it is definitely fit for a prince," Yuuri teases, a little bit amazed at his brazenness.

He was not usually so receptive. A few customers let on that it was his reservedness that made him popular even before he has debuted, like a secret that will slowly unfold in time.

"So it is! So it is!" Victor happily announces as he plucks a stray grain of rice off his face and licks it off his finger.

Maybe it was the nimble tongue that peeked out to clean the proffered finger. Maybe it was the sultry look Victor threw underneath eyelashes at half-mast at Yuuri and held his gaze captured as the moist muscle darted in and out quickly like an illusion: Yuuri was unable to look away. Maybe it was the oil from the katsudon that made Victor's lips glisten, beckoning, in the light. Or maybe it was the tension that had been gradually building up in their tiny corner ever since Yuuri sat beside Victor.

But whatever it is, the faint stirrings of desire has already uncurled and reached up to threaten to choke Yuuri with just how much he wants.

Yakov cleared his throat.

"I heard there are good kabuki theatres here? I was thinking it would be good to see what one looked like while we're in the area. Well, Vitya?"

But the alcohol seemed to finally get to Victor was he looked like he was a few seconds away from dozing and falling onto the table in front of him.

Yuuko offered to accompany Yakov; she can go with Minako and maybe they can show him more of the district. Yuuri decided that the old man seemed to have no interest in bedding anyone. He just seemed to want to take a look around and partake of as much food and alcohol as he could. Yuuko would be safe especially since Minako is coming along with them.

"Yuuri, maybe you can help Victor-sama to one of the vacant rooms while he sleeps off the alcohol? We will be back with Yakov-sama later and then they can go back together to where they are staying."

Yuuri's eyebrows shot up at the suggestion.

He? Together with Victor? Alone? But before his thoughts could get carried away any further, Yuuko added: " Minami can help you take Victor-sama."

There was a knowing smirk on Yuuko's face that made Yuuri's chest itch and he struggled to keep a straight face on and not squirm at being caught.

Honestly, Yuuri did not mind having a chaperone at all. Well, not much, just a little bit, maybe.

And so, on wobbling gait, Victor was led by Yuuri and Minami to one of the corner rooms, away from where most of the nightly activities went on. Victor changed into a kimono behind a folding screen and Yuuri wished his eyes could see through the barrier. He could only see the shadow from behind the paper panels and his throat burned as he wondered if the rest of Victor was just as pale as he looked like clothed.

Victor stepped out from behind the screen wearing a deep blue kimono, the knot tied lopsidedly and one end of the robe threatened to fall off his shoulder. He had let his hair down and the platinum strands framed his face, making him seem like an apparition in the soft candle light. It suddenly felt so much hotter in the room now and Yuuri wondered if Victor was even aware of his disheveled and alluring state.

"Yuuri~," Victor whined. "S- sleepy..."

He decided that it was probably just because Victor was drunk and as the prince collapsed on the futon, Yuuri smoothed out the covers around him. Victor turned to his side and reached out to trace the back of Yuuri's hand with a long and elegant finger.

Yuuri flinched, his hand moving away on instinct. Victor mumbled an apology and Yuuri wanted him to take the hastily whispered sumimasen back; he didn't want the prince to feel sorry for touching him.

"N- no… it's… just…. not allowed." Yuuri whispered back in explanation.

Yet.

The unspoken word hung heavily in the air.

Victor's eyes shone with quiet understanding in the dim room. Yuuri watched, transfixed as Victor's hand peeked out once more from underneath the covers. WIth bated breath, Yuuri waited for what he would do. His thumb and forefinger pinched at the edge of Yuuri's sleeve, clinging, as his blue-green eyes looked up to Yuuri's chocolate ones as if asking, is this okay ?

New warmth flooded into Yuuri's chest as he gave a small, shy smile and nods, his gaze fixed on the way Victor holds onto his sleeve like it was the only thing anchoring him to safety.

"Don't go?" Victor whispered against his pillow, a pink flush visible on his cheeks even in the dim light.

"I'll stay," Yuuri affirmed.

And as Yuuri shared a glance with Minami who hovered unobtrusively at a corner in the room, he realised he did want to stay, and he did want to spend the night with Victor. Just like this was nice enough.

It's not like there was anything more he could hope for.


A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think. This work is also posted on AO3