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DECAY HEAT CHAPTER 3 : PLAYING

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I couldn't kill Takasugi -- that much was obvious.

He gave me a truce in exchange for what I wanted. Maybe he really wanted to stop fighting with me. But he wasn't after an alliance. Neither did he intend to persuade me. "So…?" I asked, looking across the table, one sake saucer between us."Why did you bring me here?" Instead of answering, Takasugi smiled, eyes lingering over my hands which were modestly folded over closed knees. I tried to ignore him but my cheeks reddened and a vein began to throb on my forehead. My back felt unnaturally stiff. It wasn't as if I wanted to pose this way! Obviously, being a man I would have separated both knees and placed my fists on my thighs but since I was wearing a lady's kimono...

"Takasugi…?" I prompted.

"No particular reason…" Takasugi said, tilting his head carelessly. "You don't believe me, do you?" He smiled again. "This wasn't my idea. I was drinking with Bansai and he suggested it." He shrugged. "Really?" I replied. "I wonder if you meant Bansai requested if he could assassinate me.""Ya got me there. That thought actually occurred to me. Since Gintoki's laid up at the Shimura estate, you're the only one I can get my hands on. But no…I told you already, it'll be dumb for me to kill you now. Because if I did, then your men would come after me, and while we're fighting, the Shinsengumi will strike. As you may have noticed, the heat is on pretty strong right now. S'all…" He offered me the saucer with a seemingly open face, but that just meant he was hiding something. "What are you afraid of? This isn't poisoned. Aren't you going to join me?" He asked expectantly."As if it's the most natural thing in the world to be drinking sake with a man whom I just tried to kill." I said, raising my eyebrows ironically. "However, I'm also concerned about something else. Can sake kill germs, like from TB?"

Takasugi's pupils glittered maliciously. Touche. Rumors had it that he had gotten TB after the Joi War ended. His complexion was certainly pale enough, in addition to the feverish heat of his aura. "No. You need a shot for that. I think we already got them when we were kids. It hurt like hell, especially since I had to take it twice. But not you…" he stared speculatively. "You were one of the lucky ones. Natural immunity. You make me jealous…" His last words drifted self-mockingly away as he took a drink. My eyes widened in amazement. I had totally forgotten about it…us lining up in front of the nurse's office…the injection…the little red welt that popped up in the crook of our arm… That was Shinsuke for you. A man who never forgot, much less forgive.

"Your kimono..." Shinsuke began staring at my clothes again. I was wearing a blue satin-silk kimono, embroidered with flitting red dragonflies. By the creator's art, the metallic gold thread woven into the eyes and wings of the insects picked up light whenever I shifted, as if they were hovering over a stream. This was an effect best seen in the shadows, under flickering candlelight, like now. Actually Shinsuke looked much better wrapped up in thick, warm shadows. Less garish. The butterflies on his yukata finally stopped screaming "Hey look at me!" and hid their wings over their faces instead, dreaming peacefully. The next time I saw him, the purple would deepen to black and fluttering orange pattern morph into rippling vermilion waves. But for now, it was dragonflies for me, butterflies for him and we were merely insignificant little insects seeking shelter in the darkness.

Wrong. I was really in a cage with a black beast.

"…you would fit right in. You look just like a charming young woman from Kyoto visiting Kiyomizudera Temple. Your blue kimono would have matched the red maple leaves. Kyoto's only 5 hours away from Edo by boat. How come you never visited me once in all these years?"

"I did, but your mom told me you were out." I felt Shinsuke's eyes on me and I looked down, smoothing my lap. It was a joke, obviously.

Takasugi smirked. "What a shame. I didn't think she approved of bad company like you."

"I'm supposed to be bad?"

"You're not bad, you're lazy. But that's ok. What shall we do, after I finish the hard work of taking down the Bakufu?"

"You mean if you do."

"I will." Our eyes met, and I was forced to nod in agreement. "But I can't see you in a business suit."

"And I don't see you cutting your long hair and joining a Zaibatsu. Or maybe you're more inspired by Shiroyasha, I mean – Odd-jobs, No-jobs – Gin-san's example? Wait…I forgot… you are a professional… I shouldn't call you Zura. Right? …Zurako?"

"I'm not Zurako, please stick to... Katsura."

"And please remember I'm only Shinsuke, a simple soldier. Why does everyone think I'm a power-driven, sex-crazed and vindictive villain?"

I chuckled. "Some would add sex-offender to the list."

"Speak for yourself. You really need to stop raping my eyes with your horrible disguise. Can someone please call the fashion Shinsengumi?!"

"No one asked you to look at me."

"Forgive me, mademoiselle." Takasugi mockingly licked the rim of the saucer. "You look so good you're scary. Then again, I must be wearing sake googles…if you don't want me to keep staring at your clothes, I suggest you take them off."

"My colleague Pako looks even better in a kimono."

"Sounds hot. Can I meet her?"

"You already have."

"I have?"

"It's…Gintoki."

Takasugi choked. He started coughing violently. The wheezing sounded dangerously like emphysema. I couldn't help standing up and reaching over. His head snapped up in surprise. Oh what the heck, who cares about appearances. I found myself kneeling beside him and stroking his back. He burbled out a few more wet-sounding coughs before falling silent. I stood up to go, but he grabbed the sleeve of my jacket.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Nothing." He mumbled, letting go and looking away.

I poured myself a shot and gulped it. I needed it to wash away that weird feeling that came over me. Forget about Takasugi. I reminded myself. He's a lost soul. He was glaring at me, eyes a little damp but otherwise completely pale and composed. Drinking had a strange effect on Takasugi. The more he drank, the saner he appeared, since his normal self could be pretty insane. Instead of turning red like me, he would turn pale. Instead of hugging everyone like I, ahem, have a tendency to do…he could appear serious and sincere. Well, who knows if he was still the same. A lot of time had passed since the Joi War. And that was the last time we had a civilized drinking session; in the middle of terrible war, facing a common enemy. In war, we were willing to make big sacrifices for each other, but in peacetime, our worst sides would appear. It was ironic.

Takasugi coughed, then scratchily managed,"I always thought you drank like a woman, but now I think you drink like a man."

"You made a pretty convincing geisha yourself. In for an encore?"

With a smirk, Takasugi went out and picked up the shamisen. I got up and took in the floor lantern. He remained standing at the narrow doorway, as if on purpose, so I had to push past him, bumping against the wood as I wedged by. The lantern cast deep shadows on his features and hid half of his face… Before I realized it, I was staring. The glitter of his eye told me he was observing me too. Embarrassed, I quickly walked inside.

Takasugi's shamisen was old, with grime embedded into its long slim neck and the leather drum was smoky with age. I recognized it as the same one that he had for years. It wasn't even some Stradivarius. He was just a person who didn't like change.

"Ever made a new song?" I asked.

"I'm glad you asked…I actually do. This one's called "Cooling Flow". You may have heard of it." My mouth twitched. Was he making fun of my introductory poem? At least that meant he had been listening.

Takasugi strummed and clacked the bachi, producing a smooth, low-pitched allegro…I had a vision of galloping across an open meadow at mid-day. Whatever Takasugi did always had that sun-drenched, military feel. His sound was rich, warm and smooth. I think he was doing a variation of Jongara. After the repeating the motif in a couple of different registers, he brought his left hand very close to the drum to mimic the childish whisper, as if of a shy country girl, but it changed a little, as if he too, was also searching for the right pitch. The voice became more soothing like the song of a young mother consoling her sad child with soft syllables of a lullaby. Satisfied, he introduced a grand, powerful voice, like shouts on the battlefield, then braided the two melodies harmoniously. Deciding on the perfect pitch, he slowed down further, and repeated the motif in a more complex variation. Hmm...a wedding piece? That's his interpretation of my poem? I liked how Takasugi's pacing was fluid, like the tides of the Kawada River. Since young, Takasugi had been like this. He emphasized smoothness above all and disliked highly strung or frenzied picking. In many ways our tastes were the same: old-fashioned. At least I knew I wasn't the only one who looked at the green hills and blue seas of our homeland and feel that it's so beautiful it hurts.

"Like a cooling flow, soothing my soul…something, something…and about growing up in Edo…Oh I forgot the rest of the lyrics," he grinned. Liar.

"Sweet. But not exactly what I call... a cooling flow."

"You're so smart, you teach me? Sensei?" Takasugi suggested, passing me the shamisen.

I was in creative mood. Maybe from the sake – yeah just one shot – or maybe it was Shinsuke. I, too, felt I needed to get something off my chest. "Listen to this one, Takasugi. This is how real water sounds like. On a frozen winter day, frost crystals blow through the biting air. And the river flows, in fact it seems to melt through the landscape, like a black snake…" I started playing a tune fit for the decaying moon. I closed my eyes, strummed out a melody both ancient and eerie. Like the speech of the aristocrats, it was calm, understated and full of ellipses. Originally created for Shinto rituals, it could send you into a trance. I already felt my senses heightened as I focused my imagination on the way a dying note mixed with the new in a chord. I brought out the freezing sensation of the cold, cold pauses. My body was so relaxed I began to float every time I let the strings slide. In that state, it was possible to smell the sea breeze like it smelled like a freshly opened oyster, which also smells clean like mint or pine. Maybe from the forest. But when you're in a forest, the cold pines do smell salty, like an ocean. At any rate, I was… high.

I opened my eyes and found Takasugi lounging by the shoji screen looking into the sea. His face, outside the circle of candlelight, was in shadows…but I felt rather than saw, that his look was open –almost too unguarded. He clapped quietly. "That was so…Zura. I'm honored. Such music isn't often heard outside of the palaces of Kyoto. Oh Zura, always so high class." I didn't say anything. I had the urge to continue talking to him, but not get into an argument.

"Do you only have one shamisen?" I asked. "Why not get another one? Or call your friend Bansai in here?"

"Bansai? God no, please don't. I can't stand his rhythm, it's so jerky and hard, like a 17 year old who just got his driving license….I don't mean he lacks skills. Technically, he's superb, but look, it's like the Yoshida Brothers…catchy, but it has no scent or flavor…well just how much soul do you expect from a Nintendo Wii commercial?"As if frustrated, he continued his rant. His eyes became glassy and he spoke with commanding intensity. "Bansai is a good example of a kid who grew up Amanto-washed. He goes around carrying a shamisen and uses ancient honorifics like a 19th century Prince Genji. But I don't find that he understands me at all. He's like the rest of the kids. All his music is about love, but his love is completely plastic. Real Love is emptiness, like the rich shadows of this empty room. Real love is how you feel when you know you're going to die, but you still do it. Your soul becomes engulfed in flames…and that is true love."

That's what true love means for him? I had the strange sensation of wanting to slap him, argue with him or cry for him. But I knew it was pointless. It was his life, let him burn. He was burning. He was very pale, very still and radiated a voracious hunger. "Don't you ever get the feeling like you can't make any friends after we left Shouyou-sensei's school? I feel so lonely, sometimes. I feel…like I can't love like I used to love. Yes, I have comrades now, and I respect them, but I don't love them. Bansai? Makoto? Henpeitai? Interesting people…But we're just associates. I just can't feel anything for them."

"Only you can understand me, Zura. That's what makes me so lonely."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Takasugi was ready to die for his emotions. I was ready to die for my principles. We were on opposite sides. I realized that everything went downhill the minute I picked up the shamisen, and managed to connect…with the soul of a black beast. I stood up as Takasugi walked closer. His pupils glittered intensely.

Whatever he wanted, he would never allow me to reject him.

To be continued...

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Next chp...Takasugi gets rough. BTW sorry for the long delay between chp 2 and 3. :P

Please review, they help. ^^