Stench from dirty streets of East End filled her lungs. It burned in her throat as she watched the sky growing darker on the roof of one of the brothels with "exotic" girls in Shadwell. Dusk was Ayaka's least favourite part of the day. It was silence before the storm. She simply sat and waited for the worst to come. Ayaka wished she could move time.
It wasn't always the worst. Sometimes she got an easy customer. Some fell asleep on the bed before she did anything, she had to thank alcohol for that. But only partially because the second group of men were bad drunkards, who were even worse in such state than when they were sober. Then there was the third category – rich and fake. They put on a façade during the day that made them look innocent and pious. However, once the sun got down, they told their coachmen to take them to the Limehouse or Shadwell, or some other East London district with a whorehouse. As they got out of their carriage, they tipped the coachmen not to tell anyone (especially their wives) and entered the building of vices.
She shivered in November air and pulled the fabric of a fake kimono closer to her body. It was insulting to wear it. It wasn't right and what she did when she wore it wasn't right either.
"Ayaka!" she heard her uncle shout her given name.
She looked down and saw him. He was known to the public as Mr. Mizushima or Mizushima-san, a business partner of Axel Mortmain. He shared some features with her, due to their common ethnicity, but otherwise he didn't look special. A rich Japanese, nothing new to her.
"Get down here!" he shouted another order in Japanese and she obeyed.
Ayaka didn't really have much choice. At least she had a place to sleep and food to eat. There were women who didn't have that and had to sell themselves right on the streets. Her age didn't help either. She was sixteen and officially under the care of her uncle. She had tried to escape a few times but he'd always found her. Probably asked one of the more cooperating warlocks to do a tracking spell. After those poor attempts and beatings she received afterwards, she gave up.
She passed the narrow corridors, that smelled like cheap perfume and echoed faked moans of other prostitutes, and stepped in the small hall. Ayaka tried to ignore the prostitutes in what could be called a sitting room. The men there were particularly loud. Ayaka noticed another man with her uncle. He was a white man, shorter, with greying whiskers* and light grey eyes. He eyed her from head to toe. She refused to shudder under his gaze and decided it'd be better to place a polite toothless smile on her face.
"Mr. Mortmain, let me introduce you to my niece, Ayaka, or Irene, whichever you prefer to call her. Ayaka, this is Dr. Axel Mortmain I told you about."
So, this is the famous Mortmain who turned my life upside down… and for worse, Ayaka thought. She suppressed her anger and gave him a small curtsy.
Mortmain smiled but there was something evil behind it. He glanced approvingly at his partner.
"After such long discussion with you, I believe this is a perfect treat," said Mortmain. "Thank you."
Her uncle smirked and nodded. Then turned to Ayaka and ordered her, "Go to your room and prepare!" After that he added in Japanese, "You don't want to disappoint and embarrass me, do you?" The threatening edge in his voice made her move.
Ayaka sat down on the bed with red silky sheets and tried to still her shaking hands.
Mortmain started it all. That man turned her uncle into a bigger monster than he already was. She missed those times in America before he met Mortmain. Mr. Mizushima was mean to her when she didn't listen to him or talked back, but at least he let her stay in their house with English textbooks. She was occupied with the language. One day she asked whether she could go to the Los Angeles Institute and train there. He beat her. It was at that time when he gave her the name Irene. He told her it meant peace and that's what she should represent – peace, meaning never talking back, always obeying him. Her uncle was locking her up every time he left the house. But it was still better than being a hooker who was about to have sex with a man who changed so much.
She heard the door close and turned around. He already took off his cloak and tossed it on a nearby chair.
"Your uncle mentioned you're beautiful but now I can see how much. I'd say that those Chinese and Indian girls next door can't compare but I haven't met them all yet," he chuckled.
She watched him stand couple of inches in front of her. Ayaka noticed him glancing at her black Marks. It was the only thing that still connected her to her parents. And the best thing about them was that no one could take them away from her. No one except her own people. Most people here thought they were some "exotic" tattoos and she liked lying about what they actually meant. Their expressions were priceless.
"I see. At first I didn't want to believe Orochi when he mentioned he had a brother who Ascended to become a Shadowhunter. Fascinating."
"You're a talker, aren't you? Mr. Mortmain." She wanted to change the subject.
He laughed. "I guess I am, my apologies."
"What do you wish me to do, Mr. Mortmain?" she asked, this time in sweeter voice.
"Distract me. I heard you're quite a dancer," his voice was mocking and she guessed why.
When she was younger she tried to imitate Geishas' dances, poorly of course. Ayaka bet her uncle told Mortmain about it. She was just a common whore, Geisha was a woman with better social standing and was highly educated in arts. She was just… poor imitation.
"There's no music," she said.
He sneered, "You won't need it when you'll be dancing under me."
He wanted her on her knees then on all fours. He was repulsive. Mortmain's hands were cold and rough on her hips. He wanted her to beg him so she did. It hurt, he was violent with her and didn't care for nothing but himself and his own satisfaction. She had to bear up. If her uncle found out she wasn't good, he would do something he enjoyed much - beating her. He liked it because she was a Shadowhunter who healed fast. But her blood couldn't heal those belt scars on her back anymore.
After he was done with her, he left. It was a shame he didn't talk of any plans he and her uncle were talking about before they came into the brothel. He did talk a lot but not about stuff that would be useful in some way.
He's clever, I give him that, she thought.
She knew that when she had an important client no one else would bother her that night. Ayaka continued lying on the bed until her breathing slowed and her legs stopped shaking.
She wanted to get out of that room smelling of his cologne, sweat and sex as quickly as possible.
Ayaka washed herself as thoroughly to get rid of Mortmain's touch behind Chinese screen. Being the owner's niece had its advantages – he had the water brought up here and the food wasn't as terrible as in other places. He turned this previously very poor brothel into something more hygienic (no wonder Mortmain wanted to get rid of it even for a cheap price). It still wasn't ideal but better than nothing.
She put on clothes she sewed for herself almost a year ago. It was supposed to resemble Shadowhunter gear but it was less impressive. She was flexible in it though and that was the point. Ayaka put a dagger in a thin long pocket she made later. The pockets were practical when she went out stealing things, mostly knives. The dagger was one of the things she nicked from a random stranger in Limehouse.
When she walked out of the room. It was quieter at three in the morning. She didn't have much free time or just time outside the brothel so Ayaka had to use every opportunity she had to get out. And not just on the roof.
However, it was the starting point. She jumped from one roof to another, enjoying the fast passing moments of freedom. Luckily, the early snow from a week ago melted in the rain. Roofs were slippery but thanks to her Shadowhunter training she received until she was twelve, she didn't have a problem to keep her balance.
When Ayaka decided, she had enough of sneaking on the roofs, she jumped off one building and walked her way through the dark London streets.
She paused when she got to the St. Paul's Cathedral. She always liked it. The huge building looming over her as if it was judging her. Well, it's a place of God, purity and innocence. It represented everything she was not. She liked it nonetheless. She liked the architecture, the area of St. Paul's made her feel peaceful. Like the rest of the world didn't exist and it was just her and the Cathedral. When Ayaka first discovered it, she imagined herself as one of the tourists.
But I'm just a filthy immigrant, she thought. Asian and a woman.
Silver haired boy paused playing his violin. Yin fen kept him fully awake for hours but when he looked out of the window, he thought he was dreaming for a moment.
A girl was walking carelessly on the quiet Fleet Street. He also saw a Dahak demon moving her way from one of the small crossing alleys.
He quickly put on the leather straps with knives over his shoulders, put on shoes and grabbed his dragon-headed cane and dashed out of the Institute onto the streets.
He stabbed the demon right into its heart with his cane before it could attack her. Both the demon and the girl let out a shriek. The demon disappeared, leaving only the ichor on the pavement. The girl was holding a dagger in front of her as a defence and still stared at the place where the Dahak disappeared.
She put down her arm and looked at him with wide eyes. He noticed she looked almost like his mother. Fierce look in her eyes, a small build but a strong spirit. Until she started laughing. He only looked at her in bewilderment.
"Sugoi!**"
So, she isn't Chinese then, he thought with a slight disappointment. A Japanese. He narrowed his eyes and focused on her right hand fanning herself to cool down her flushed face from laughter. Japanese with a Voyance rune.
"Is this how you Englishmen save damsels in distress? Although, I haven't laughed in a while so I should thank you."
Japanese with American accent. He was confused even more. Who was this girl? What was a Shadowhunter he didn't know and had never met doing on the streets without any proper weapon?
She eyed him from head to toe. He now understood her laughter a bit more. Jem realised he wore his night clothes. A shirt half-unbuttoned, worn-out black trousers with a small hole on his left knee and messy hair. And considering it was November, he must have looked pretty stupid. He wasn't exactly a prototype of a hero. He was sure Will would've been more skilled at this sort of thing and better looking even in such shabby clothes.
"I'm not exactly an Englishman and you're not just a damsel," he told her.
She stopped laughing and looked at him, fright flicked in her eyes before it was replaced by cold detachment.
"May I know the name of my saviour?" she asked the silver haired boy and observed him.
He was tall and lean but handsome. He looked like at least one of his parents was Chinese. Besides the curve of his eyes, their silver colour, widened pupils and silver hair gave him away. Many Chinese people liked to indulge themselves in drugs, opium for mundanes and yin fen for Downworlders and… well, Shadowhunters it seemed. She noticed parabatai rune on his neck. The rune was strikingly black against his pale, almost white, skin. The contrast fascinated her and didn't want to take her eyes off him. She also glimpsed a jade pendant shaped like a fist hanging from his neck.
"Only if I may know the name of the damsel," he replied, his posture and expression alert.
"You may not," she answered quickly and regretted it immediately.
He was her only chance out. She could ask him for help… but how could she trust him? He may have saved her life but if he or any other Shadowhunter found out she was a whore… she didn't want to think about that. They might even strip her off her runes. They would despise her, tell her she's not worthy to remain one of them.
Before he could further inquire, she turned and began running the opposite direction.
"Hey! Wait!" he yelled after her.
Ayaka heard him running after her. He was definitely faster than her, he caught up in no time and gripped her wrist before she could run any further. She stopped but withdrew and pulled her wrist out of his touch. She had remembered one of the drunk men, he had grabbed her wrist, yanking her up the stairs. He was whispering something in a strong Cockney accent, she didn't understand him, and fucked her against the doorframe. It happened two days after her sixteenth birthday. It wasn't the last time he showed up and took her. He was always rough and ignored her begging. After his fourth visit, she didn't bother to beg anymore.
The boy must have noticed he frightened her and stepped back. She forced herself not to shed tears right in front of him and put on a cold mask.
"I won't ask you if you don't want to tell me. But you should at least have something with runes on it," he said and reached for his leather strap and took two of his throwing knives. He handed them to her and smiled softly. "If you want to roam around London at night, you should have these. I can promise you won't miss a target."
Ayaka gulped. Her eyes were darting from the knives to his face. He looked honest.
Don't they all? whispered a voice in her head.
"Tell me your name," she whispered but managed to keep her voice steady.
The boy bit his lip, adverted his gaze for a while but looked back at her.
"Jem. Short for James," he smiled again. Why was he smiling so much? He may have taken the drug recently but he didn't look intoxicated. He must have been on the drug for a long time then. It sparked her curiosity even more. There weren't many people who could survive on yin fen longer than a few months.
She took the knives from him and glanced at his gentle face one more time before she ran back to East Magic.
I wrote the word "exotic" in quotation marks because I don't believe Asians are exotic, they're just people. And there's more of them so how can they be exotic?
Also, the name of the brothel is very unoriginal, maybe even cringe-worthy. I'm sorry about that, I'm really bad at making up names.
* the word 'sideburn' originated in 1885-1890 and this story is set in 1877-1878 so I wanted to use more historically accurate word. As I am writing this fanfic, I'm looking up some words I'm not sure about in a dictionary to check when they were created. Maybe some words won't be accurate but I'm not going to look up every word.
** great/amazing
