Title: Murasaki Iro no Sora (Amethyst-coloured Sky)
Authoress: Aria DC al Fine
Genre: Romance/Angst
Rating: M
Synopsis: AU. Set in Showa era. Azuma Kazuma, a rice farmer in Izu, received a birthday present from his friends. He just didn't expect to fall in love with the present. Soft Yaoi AzumaxKanmuri
Disclaimer: Not mine, but Hashiguchi Takashi-sensei's. Sadly.
Warning: borderline lime to lemon. I don't upload the complete version here for fear for going overboard. Those who want to read the smutty scene must message me to get it.
A/N: Since it's AU, it goes without saying that OOCness abounds.
Chapter 1: Welcome to Adulthood
"O TANJOUBI OMEDETOU (HAPPY BIRTHDAY)!" everyone screamed, as Azuma Kazuma, a slender, tanned, young rice farmer in Izu had just returned to his humble abode, the small estate that he shared with his extended family, from working in the fields all day long.
"Huh?" bewildered, Azuma looked around at the familiar faces of his friends and relatives, the feast lay on the table, the huge bottle of sake. He raised a calloused, dark, slightly muscled hand over his head, removed his straw hat and wiped the sweat off his brows. "Sou ja! Kyou wa ore no tanjoubi ja! Wasureta ja! (My, I forgot that today is my birthday!)"
"Ahou (Idiot)!" Kawachi Kyousuke, a fellow rice farmer who had migrated from Kansai a few years ago, remarked, and messed his shoulder-length brown hair. "How can you forget your own birthday? Not to mention your fifteen one!" his voice became lower towards the end.
"Yes, yes, how can you?" Katsuo, a pig-like man who appeared much younger than he really was, a worker at the neighboring pig farm, assented, drool leaking from his lips. "Your coming-of-age (A/N: In the past, a boy, especially if raised as a samurai, was considered an adult at fifteen)!" he said with gusto.
A fist was sent flying Katsuo's way. "Stop it, pervert! You're contaminating my dear little brother's mind!" Inaho hissed, a vein pulsing on the young woman's temple. "Kazuma, don't listen to Katsuo and Kawachi!"
"Kazuma," the boy's father, a good-natured middle-aged man with a large smile, led the newly turned adult to the dining table, "Kawachi, Katsuo, Inaho, Oji-san, minna," he addressed everyone in the room, "Don't let the food grow cold! Tuck in!"
Katsuo, Kawachi, and the Azuma family partied as the sky turned from blue to a symphony or gold, amethyst and vermilion, before the colours were swiped away to black, dotted with sparkling diamonds. The men gobbled down the pork cutlets Katsuo cooked. Kazuma had his first taste of sake, but Inaho prevented him from drinking enough to be tipsy. They took a trip to the temple to pray to the Inari-Kami (The Fox Gods) and played games after they returned home. It was well into the night before the party was unofficially over, with everyone slumped on the tatami in the living room, dozing off from exhaustion.
"Psst, Kazuma," Kawachi shook the brunette's shoulder, "Kazuma!"
"That soft method won't work," Katsuo snorted. He kicked the young man on the leg. "KAZUMA!" he whispered.
"W-what?" Azuma jumped, "Is there fire? Flood? Thunder?" he looked over the window in panic.
"Be quiet! We don't want to wake anyone! Especially Inaho…" Kawachi covered Azuma's mouth with his hand, "There's nothing of the sort."
"Jeez, then why do you wake me up?" Azuma complained as he rubbed his eyes, "I'm not sure I can go back to sleep again…"
"That's the idea, ahou (idiot)," Kawachi sighed, and Katsuo nodded. "We want to give you a birthday present." The two peered at each other at the corners of their eyes before grabbing the unsuspecting Azuma around the wrists.
"Huh?" the poor, confused victim was dragged out of his house, along the road to downtown. As Azuma followed his friends, he saw girls, lots of them, in skimpy kimono, exposing their torsos and their legs, their faces painted like lotuses, calling in high-pitched voices. "Soko no otoko, kite joudai (the men over there, please come over)!"
The hair at the back of Azuma's neck stood. "K-kawachi! Katsuo! Are we in the Red Light District?" the youngest of the three asked, a frown on his face.
"Do you have eyes? Atarimae yarou (Of course)!" Kawachi turned to the birthday boy and replied.
"D-don't you say you're going to get me a present?" Azuma was on his wits' end.
"Omae wa hontou ni ahou (you're really an idiot)," Katsuo sighed, "Your present is here."
"W-what?" Azuma began to struggle.
Kawachi and Katsuo gave him a perverted grin. "Be patient, Kazuma. Soon, you'll have your first fuck."
"I-I don't-" He struggled even harder. Couldn't wait to get to the brothel he frequented, Kawachi hoisted Azuma over his shoulder and carried him all the way. "NOOO!"
"Ne, kawaii (he's really cute)!"
"Hontou (For real)! Toshi ikutsu (how old are you)?"
"Tele tele shicau yo (Don't be shy)!"
Currently, Azuma was sitting uncomfortably on his calves in one of the rooms of Maboroshi-ya, surrounded by 4 extravagantly dressed prostitutes, their obis tied to large ribbons below their ample, half exposed jingling breasts, instead of at their backs like normal, respectable women. As they were poking and touching him all over the places, patting his hair, cold sweat was dripping down Azuma's temple, drenching his cheap white oblong shirt. His form was trembling. 'Get away from me,' he closed his eyes and willed in his head as those women closed in on him.
"I envy Kazuma," Kawachi sighed. Katsuo nodded fervently. "Must be nice to be surrounded by sexy women like that," he purposely raised his voice.
"Aah, Katsuo-sama, you're too kind," one of the 4 replied, tired by Azuma's response to her advances, she tried her luck on him. The perverted man plunged his face straight to her bosom. "Ah…I'm in heaven."
A green-eyed girl chuckled from the doorway. Kawachi turned to the source of the familiar sound. "Tsukino!" he greeted her.
"Kawachi-san, konnichiwa. Mata kuru yo ne (you come here again)," the girl bowed and smiled. Like the other 4, her obi was tied at the front, her chignon was decorated with intricate combs and pins with dangling pearls, and her face was painted, but instead of looking repulsive, she looked lovely and sweet.
"Of course! I'm a regular!" Kawachi grinned back, weak at the knees, "Tokoro de (by the way), that boy is Azuma Kazuma," he used his thumb to point at the brown-haired boy, who seemed to be trembling harder than before.
"The one that just turns fifteen today?" Tsukino recalled, and Kawachi nodded. "The boy is quite awkward around women, so please pick a good, experienced girl for him."
"Wakarimasu (I understand)," the green-eyed teenager turned to one of the prostitutes near Azuma. "Minako-chan, yasashi ni shite kudasai (please be gentle with him)."
"Hai!" The girl responded enthusiastically, and pulled her customer out of the holding room. "K-Kawachi! Katsuo!" Azuma cried, and stretched his hand out to them.
"It's okay to be nervous. You'll enjoy it soon!" Kawachi waved him off, and let Minako lug the brunet out of the room, his scream echoing down the corridor.
"Now that that business is over!" Katsuo stood up, the prostitute's hand in his, "I'll be off to paradise too, Kawachi!" he charged at the door, the girl laughing naughtily, "You're so eager, aren't you?"
"Sa te to (Well, then)," Tsukino gestured at the remaining 2 prostitutes, "Which girl will you pick? Or do you wish to pick another?"
'Yes, you,' Kawashi mouthed silently, but shook his head and picked up an empty cup from the tray provided. "I'll stay here for a while and make sure Kazuma's okay."
"Kawachi-san wa yasashi ne (Kawachi is kind)," Tsukino praised him and poured him some sake, smiling as the Kansai boy blushed.
They spent around five minutes chatting, before Azuma barged into the room, the string around his pants loose. "Kawachi!" he called out tearfully, "I-I," he stuttered.
"Shush," Kawachi put his hand on the younger male's head, "Calm down. What's wrong?"
Minako entered the room, looking pissed. "Don't look at me like that," she said quickly when Kawachi shot her a glare, "It's not my fault. I didn't do anything! I haven't even taken off my clothes. The guy's afraid of women."
Kawachi looked down at the boy, who was sobbing to his hands. "Azuma, is that true?"
The caramel-eyed youth looked up, and nodded. "Oka-san died when I was a baby…T-the only woman I've ever known is…Onee-chan, and…"
Well, then, everything was explained. "You don't have to say it. I know. Inaho-san is…" Kawachi couldn't even say anything bad about her. Her presence lingered.
"Argh!" Kawachi grunted in frustration, "You need to overcome it! Your future depends on it!"
"B-but…Kawachi…" fresh tears began flow down Azuma's cheeks.
"You have to! Otherwise we can't get you your present!"
"B-but!"
"Urusai (You're so noisy)!" A voluptuous black-haired woman in a gaudy red kimono shrieked from the doorway, her heavily painted eyes shooting off a murderous aura, "You're disturbing other patrons!"
Tsukino knocked her head to the floor. "Moshiwakegozai masu (I deeply apologise), Yukino-nee-sama!"
"Hmph!" The young woman sneered at her half sister, "You're such a burden! What's the problem, huh?"
Kawachi noticed that this woman's obi was tied behind her back. Which meant…this woman must be Azusagawa Yukino, the owner of the brothel. He bowed before giving his answer. "Yukino-sama, my friend turns fifteen today, and I'd like to treat him his first sexual encounter, but he is afraid of the opposite sex."
Yukino's eye twitched. "You make such a big fuss over this small matter?" she growled, "This brothel also caters for the likes of you," she turned to Tsukino, "Bitch, get Murasaki!"
There was a small, sharp intake of breath before Tsukino gave a reply. "Wakarimashita." She bowed again and left the room, while Yukino gave Kawachi one last look. "Gokiburi-domo (Cockroaches)," she muttered under her breath, and walked out.
"It's okay. Stop crying," Kawachi handed his friend a handkerchief, and as Azuma was wiping his tears (and blowing his nose), Kawachi turned to the 3 prostitutes in the room. "Who's this Murasaki? I have been a regular for more than a year and I've never heard of her."
2 prostitutes giggled, while Minako sneered. "That's because Murasaki isn't a girl. Murasaki is a boy."
"A boy?" Kawachi was shocked, "but Azuma isn't...isn't…"
"Omataseshimashita (I'm sorry to keep you waiting)." The paper door was slid open, and a petite, slender figure in a body hugging violet female kimono entered. The kimono was tied low to expose a delicate bone structure and fair skin. The person's lips were luscious, but the most striking features were a pair of large, amethyst-coloured eyes, framed by long lashes which cast shadow on fine cheekbones, and shoulder-length, fluffy sakura-coloured hair which teased the nape of a graceful neck. "Murasaki to yu imasu (I am Murasaki)," the figure bowed.
"Nan ya de?" Kawachi gaped. The prostitute was indeed a boy, a boy so young he must be around Azuma's age; the lack of curves, and the slightly low voice gave away his gender. But he was so…pretty. Kawachi rubbed his eyes, unsure whether this…bishounen was real or not.
Azuma himself was struck speechless. Never in his life had he seen such a gorgeous no, exquisite, otherworldly boy, so beautiful he seemed ethereal.
"Oh, the abnormality has arrived," Minako mocked, and gave a high pitched laughter.
Murasaki's left eye twitched a small fraction of an inch.
Kawachi turned to Minako. He was really beginning to hate her. "You-!" he started, but Murasaki raised his hand. "Makasete kuadasai (please leave this to me)," he whispered softly, before the boy smiled at Minako. "Anata no okakede desu (Thanks to you)."
Minako's vein popped. "Are you implying that I made this boy fear women?" she spat.
Murasaki pretended to look sympathetic. "Ara, sore wa hontou desuka (so it's true)?"
"T-teme (You bastard)!" Minako raised her hand and was about to slap him on the face, but Murasaki caught the prostitute's hand midair. The look on his face was malevolent. "Boku wa otoko to yu koto wasurete mitai desu, Minako-san (You seem to have forgotten that I am a male)," he whispered in a low, malice-laced tone.
Minako fumed and left the room again in a flurry of kimono. When Murasaki turned to Azuma, he was all smiles again. "Anata wa boku no kyaku desu ne (You must be my customer)."
"Y-yes," Azuma replied and blushed, nervous that the pink-haired boy was talking to him.
Murasaki tilted his head. "Then, shall we proceed?" he offered Azuma a pale hand.
The rice farmer took it, and was amazed at the silky feel of the other young boy's hand. "Follow my lead," Murasaki said to the tanned teenager.
The walk down the corridor seemed like an eternity. Murasaki's violet eyes were focused right ahead, while Azuma's own caramel ones kept on darting to the side, stealing glances at the pretty prostitute. When he walked, Murasaki looked like he floated, so light were his steps, his movements elegant as though he was dancing. Azuma was embarrassed of his own loud steps, his self-conscious movements.
"We've reached the room," Murasaki announced, snapping Azuma off his musings. His blush deepened when Murasaki smiled at him before opening the door.
Inside was a standard 6-tatami room, with a large futon laid at the centre. It was just like the one he had been with Minako. But unlike with her, all the fear had left his mind completely.
"Sa te to (Well, then)," Murasaki turned to him after both of them had been seated on the futon, "How should I serve you?"
Azuma looked down at his lap. "I-I d-don't know…"
"I forgot! It's your first, isn't it?" Murasaki shifted closer to the other boy and bent low to meet Azuma's eyes. "Then, please open your legs," he whispered huskily as he placed a hand on Azuma's leg, pushing it outwards.
"B-but," Azuma refused to be budged.
Murasaki smiled at him reassuringly. "Simpai shinai de (don't worry). Yasashi shite kureru kara (I'll be gentle)."
The bishounen eased Azuma to spread his legs apart to make space for him. When Murasaki was safely tucked between Azuma's hakama-clad legs, he used his teeth to untie the knot of the string around Azuma's waist, one pale hand creeping under the white oblong shirt.
Azuma shuddered. Murasaki's pale hand was unexpectedly warm against the rough skin of his abs. "W-what are you doing?"
"What you paid me for," Murasaki replied calmly, and used his other hand to pull down Azuma's pants,
CENSORED
As Azuma lied on his back, recovering, Murasaki sat by his side and wiped the sweat below the curtain of brown fringe. "Why?" he inquired quietly.
"Huh?" Azuma stared up at the other boy with an 'isn't that obvious?' expression on his young, gullible face. "I don't want to come in your mouth. Come doesn't taste nice, right?" he answered bluntly.
Something shifted in Murasaki. He had encountered many customers, each with their own weird demands, but this was the first time someone had given him such a consideration. Treated him as an equal instead of someone he could treat however he wanted. 'Must be because it's his first,' he thought bitterly, 'it's going to change soon.'
"Ack!" Azuma's face seemed to have turned impossibly redder. Murasaki followed Azuma's previous line of sight and chuckled lightly when he discovered that the rice farmer was still hard.
"G-gomen," Azuma squeaked; he looked positively mortified. Murasaki only gave him a smile. "It's okay. It's within the scope of payment. Anyways, I don't think you can unleash years of pent up sexual tension with one blowjob." He chuckled harder when Azuma appeared even more mortified.
"Well, then," Murasaki stood up and gave his obi a tug. The piece of clothe came apart easily, and as soon as the belt was undone, the silky violet kimono slid off his shoulders and pooled around his feet, leaving the pretty boy with nothing but his birthday suit.
Azuma was mesmerized by sight. Murasaki was a bit on the thin side, Azuma could see the outline of some of his lower ribs, but they were in an era where everyone but the aristocrats and high government officials was slightly on the thin side, so it wasn't a flaw. Moonlight streamed into the cubicle room through the window, illuminating his unblemished alabaster's skin, casting shadows on dusky nipples, shapely legs and jutting hipbones.
That instant, Azuma understood what desire felt like, an itch under his skin, clawing his heart and making his breath stop. He absolutely must have this man or he'd die.
Murasaki turned to present his backside to Azuma and bent down to retrieve a small bottle of scented oil from the sleeve of his kimono, making Azuma completely mad for a few seconds.
Murasaki smirked infuriatingly as he uncapped the bottle, poured some oil to his hands, before straddling Azuma's hips, and coated Azuma's hard length with oil. Azuma braced himself for the cold, but it never came. Murasaki's hands were, like his own, continuously warm.
CENSORED
Murasaki's violet eyes shot open. His hands flew to Azuma's slightly bulging biceps. "What are you doing?" he gasped.
"I want you to enjoy it too," Azuma replied honestly, plain and simple.
'Naze (why)?'
CENSORED
Azuma stilled, afraid, beads of sweat dripping from his chin to Murasaki's stomach. "Did I hurt you?"
"No!" Murasaki shook his head feverishly.
'Naze boku ni yasashii ni shite kureru (why are you so kind to me)?'
"Ne," Azuma panted as the pace of his thrusts picked up. "What's your name?" he asked as he was going to come a second time.
"Murasaki," the pink-haired boy breathed, his pale skin almost turned pink completely accentuating the pink of his hair.
"Not that," the caramel-eyed boy grunted, determined to know his lover's name before he came, "That's the name you're known as in this brothel. I want your real name." To prove his resolve, he slowed down, even if it nearly killed him.
The violet-eyed one groaned, his hand reaching to touch himself, but Azuma caught it on the wrist and held it over his pink head.
Surprised, the prostitute looked up at the farmer's earnest face. The two stared into each other's eyes for a moment, before a soft, a genuine smile graced the uke's face. "It's Kanmuri," his quiet voice sounded loud in the silence, "Kanmuri Shigeru."
"Shigeru…" Azuma tried the name on his lips. He liked the pliable sound that lingered after the sibilance and the strength of the 'g' and 'r'. "Shigeru," he chanted. He couldn't contain it anymore. His lips sought those of his lover; they met in a surprisingly gentle kiss.
Kanmuri jerked violently. The kiss snapped him to pieces, shattering in a second then put him together again. He had never been kissed that tenderly by a male. Tears pooled in his eyes before he came with a force that took away his breath, clenching his butt and sending his lover over the edge as well. "Shigeru!" Azuma breathed, worshipping his name, before he collapsed on top of the other boy.
The two laid on the futon, sated. Every muscle in Kanmuri's body ached, while Azuma felt as though he was a lead. He stayed inside the other boy, comfortably joined together in silence for minutes, but eventually, all good things must come to an end. Kanmuri pulled away from the first customer who had given him an unconditional pleasure and picked up his kimono. "I have to serve the next customer," he said his farewell without looking at Azuma, his head bent low, his eyes shadowed by his fringe.
"No!" With must effort, Azuma rose up and grabbed Kanmuri around the wrist. "Stay with me."
Kanmuri smiled, and pried Azuma's dark hand off his own. "It'll cost you much, much more. You must think of Kawachi-san, who is paying for you." He concentrated on retying his obi as Azuma looked down in disappointment.
"Then," undeterred, Azuma looked up again, the lines on his face firm, "I can come here again tomorrow, right?"
"That, Azuma-san, is up to you," finished with his relatively less elaborate set up (female prostitutes have to do their hair), Kanmuri answered from the doorway. "I am glad to have met you, Azuma-san." The light from the corridor cast shadows on half of his pretty face as he smiled.
"I'll see you again, Shigeru!" Azuma promised, "Zettai ni (For sure)!"
It was a meeting that would change their fates, intertwining them together, a stone falling to the river. The ripples would be seen. Soon.
TBC
A/N: Murasaki means violet. Azuma probably figured it was not Kanmuri's real name due to the lack of surname, and because no one named their child with colours (Aoi - blue and Midori - green seem to be exceptions). I though of naming Kanmuri Momo (pink), but that sounds weird. Yasashii can mean gentle, or kind.
EDIT: I made a gross error. Murasaki IS a person's name. A female's name, to be precise. She was the author of the famous literary treasure The Tale of Genji, Murasaki Shikibu. She named her heroine after her, a beautiful Imperial Consort in Heian Period. It's superlong (hearsay 1000 pages plus plus), and has no definite ending since Shikibu-sensei probably died before finishing her novel. But it's probably a gem, so if you like this kind of stuff, you should read it.
All the same, Azuma probably figured it wasn't Kanmuri's real name, cus why on earth a guy would have a girl's name?
A/N2: You're missing a lot, if you ask me. Even the uncensored parts have to be cut down. But if you're underage, then I have nothing to say.