This one took a bit to crank out. Papers, presentations, tests...you name I have it due sometime this week. So...there's this big debate on who gets screen time next...it's either Tez/Fuji, Taka/Fuji or Tachibana/Kam/Ibu.
Oi...so many pretty boys and not enough time. Also I should be putting up a chapter of College Daze before I crank out another one of these...though that is tentative as always. Sometimes I'm rather random....even to myself.
Lots of different things going on here, transition chapter.
Nice soft rating of PG. Kam/Ibu, Momo/Kai, hints.
Have a good read.
OoooO
Yukimura made his way back down the hallway, moving away from Kirihara's room and back to his own. His gentle footsteps made barely any noise on the tatami except for a soft crinkle of the fibers. Glancing into Niou's room, he confirmed that the other had no visitors and nodded as he passed.
Niou yawned, waving noncommittally, lounging on the floor and brushing out the hair of one of his many masks. The porcelain monstrosities littered the room, empty eye sockets staring into nothing, gaudy hair slithering along the floor like the tentacles of some great beast. The room gave Yukimura the chills, all those void faces, staring...
He moved quickly by, lurching into a coughing fit momentarily. He doubled over from the force of it, his lungs aching from the effort. The doctors couldn't help him; they didn't know what was wrong. This painful cough was regular now, sometimes producing blood that spattered his kimono sleeves, which then had to be soaked for days or were sometimes ruined completely. It was costing the brothel money and he feared they would send him somewhere else where standards weren't so high if it continued.
Gentle hands stroked his shoulders soothingly, "Are you okay, Yuki?"
Kamio. The feminine man looked up, straightening himself after the heaving feeling in his throat stopped. He rested a hand on Kamio's shoulder to steady himself and sighed softly.
"I'm alright, sorry to have worried you," soft voice was barely heard as he checked his sleeves for any blood, relieved to find none.
"It's alright...let me escort you to your room," Kamio smiled, sliding his arm around Yukimura supportively.
"I'll have Dan get you some tea," Kamio decided, gently guiding the other boy to his room and depositing him gently on a cushion. Yukimura settled himself onto the soft surface, folding his legs gracefully underneath the modest purple kimono, the obi a complimenting teal.
"Thank you Akira," he offered the redhead a gentle smile.
"You know I don't mind," he smiled back, his eye crinkling as always. Kamio opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted by a loud and unmistakable voice that radiated from downstairs.
"Oi...Fujiko, lovely as always. You know where I'm heading!" the voice carried and announced the infamous Momoshiro Takeshi, a famous ink painter and woodblock artist that had recently started frequenting the Pink Kappa. He was loud and brash, unkempt but somehow charming in his own right. The one he was after was absolutely appalled by his behavior half the time, but you couldn't help but like the energetic painter...or hate him in some people's cases.
"Why does he have to be so loud!" Kamio growled, stomping out of the room, the jade bi(1) tied to the dagger he kept sheathed at his ankle clacked angrily. Yukimura could hear the redhead ranting about the artist to his roommate, whom Seiichi could just envision sitting there and staring blankly as the other man tromped around the room seething.
Yukimura sighed softly and shook his head, craning his neck to look across the hall to Kaidoh's room. The other's head snapped up at the noise from downstairs and large, exotic eyes slit slightly, obviously displeased. He finished wrapping his head in a long length of silk that he left trailing down his back. Yukimura thought it was a very creative way to decorate his head, considering it was usually worn underneath the wigs of Geisha to flatten their hair. Kaidoh had taken to wearing them as soon as he met Momoshiro, considering the man liked to mess up his hair all the time just to aggravate him.
Kaoru stood with a smooth movement, attesting to the strength he had underneath those flowing robes. He moved over to the door, placing a hand on the frame, biting his full lower lip for a moment before frowning and crossing his arms over his chest. Yukimura would have laughed if he knew how much Kaidoh disliked dealing with the abrasive man. He preferred to deal with his other main customer, an Apothecary named Inui Sadaharu who was sought after by people all over Japan for his unique tea mixtures and herbal remedies.
Yukimura waved when Kaoru turned, glancing into the room. The other man nodded in response, though dark eyes turned back to the hallway. He truly felt for Kaoru, the man had a hard time with one main caller, the addition of a second one made him even more anti-social, driving him into a shell that was impossible to crack. Seiichi tilted his head slightly, wanting to offer something to the other but knew his words would be acknowledged but ignored. Kaidoh always seemed to have this sense of pride and duty that was so admirable; Yukimura just wished he would talk to someone. Let some of it go, but there was not much hope in that happening.
The slap of sandals interrupted his thoughts as he heard them coming down the hallway. Then there was Momoshiro, leaning in his doorway, all smiles and smelling of ink. The man was disheveled, black ink covering his arms in smears and spattered his pale yellow and red kimono that was hanging off one shoulder. The belt was tied in a strange manner, leaving one leg exposed and keeping the kimono on just barely.
"Well if you aren't a magnificent sight as always. I come bearing a gift, my I enter your quarters?" he was loud, but Yukimura couldn't help but smile, the man was pure comic relief most of the time and terribly sweet.
"Of course Momoshiro-san," Yukimura stood, smoothing his kimono straight.
"Please, call me Momo-chan(2)," he pulled out a purple square of folded material and handed it to Yukimura, getting down on one knee. The courtesan blushed slightly at the innuendo in the name and shook his head, taking the cloth and unfolding it. Seiichi gasped softly, gazing at the beautifully hand painted, silk handkerchief. Delicate flows of wisteria twined and arched their way around the outside of the square of silk, the light purple complimenting the darker shade of the material while the green leaves lent a bit of brightness to the piece.
"I do not deserve such an expensive gift...I really must give you something for it," Yukimura held it against his chest and smiled at Momoshiro, knowing exactly what the man would want.
"A kiss on the cheek perhaps...though that is far more payment then I deserve," Momo smiled and tilted his head, offering his cheek to the courtesan. Yukimura kissed it lightly, going back to admiring the kerchief as Momoshiro stood. Seiichi sighed softly and looked up at him, reaching to fix a few strands of the spiky hair that were definitely defying gravity at the moment.
Momoshiro grabbed his hand and kissed it before leaving the room, flashing Yukimura one last toothy smile. He went straight across the hall to Kaidoh's room where the other man was waiting patiently.
"Oi...Kaoru, don't look so sour," he exclaimed, running his fingertips across the courtesans silk covered bicep. Kaidoh neatly stepped away from the touch and slid the door shut behind his customer with a polite click. The deep raspy growl that was Kaidoh's voice whispered something scathing and then the arguing began. It was almost ritual with those two, they had to fight for at least ten minute before anything more could get done.
Yukimura watched the movement behind the paper wall, light from inside reflecting the two individuals like a shadow puppet play until they moved deeper inside and disappeared all together. Pushing silvery blue strands from his eyes, Seiichi wandered to the hallway, looking towards the staircase with a deep longing. He missed his samurai; it had been almost a week since the he had went out on a campaign across the river. There was always a chance that he wouldn't come back, and it always ate away at Yukimura's heart when he had been gone for a long time. But he had to be patient, good things came to those who waited.
A head popped his view, surprising him out of his reverie. Kamio looked back and forth, scowl still on his lips then waved to Yukimura.
"Come over and have tea with Shinji and I," he walked completely out into the hallway, kimono still not on quite right, obi tilted in a most unfashionable manner. Offering his arm to Yukimura, the other man took it willingly, escorting the more feminine into his room.
The smell of the room was elegant, a deep jasmine that penetrated everything with its sweet scent. Inside knelt Kamio's roommate, Ibu Shinji, a dark beauty with clouded eyes and white skin. He sat delicately in the formal kneeling posture for performing a tea ceremony(3), his tools laid out in front of him on a white linen cloth that he had previously used to clean each object carefully.
Kamio offered him a bowl of water to rinse his hands with, a small ritual preformed before partaking in the treasured art form. Yukimura was honored, Shinji very rarely performed for anyone and it was such a treat to see a beautiful tradition in a place like the Pink Kappa.
Shinji began the ceremony with precise, practiced motions that he was completely concentrated on. He mumbled softly beneath his breath, dark eyes following his movements, picking up each tool with reverence and care. Yukimura watched, reflecting on the fact that he would never have been able to see such a thing if it weren't for Shinji's tragic past that had brought him to the brothel.
Ibu's mother had been a Geisha, and being born a boy was inauspicious in a Geisha house, so she hid Shinji's sex from the other members raising him as a girl. He had been trained thoroughly in the arts of Samisen, Tea Ceremony, dance and etiquette. One could observe all his grace in each beautiful movement of the Tea Ceremony, delicate hands moving with such practiced ease.
He had almost made it past the Maiko(4) stage of becoming a professional Geisha but an incident that destroyed his life and the aspirations of both him and his mother occurred. Yukimura reflected on the day Kamio had told him the story, trusting it to remain confidential. It seemed that Ibu had been the victim of a man that had broken into the Geisha house and attacked him, raping him as well. The mama of the house had rushed in and discovered the secret that had been kept so well, that their soon-to-be Geisha was a boy. This was like a curse to the female household, completely unheard of and intolerable. To keep her position as a Geisha, Shinji's mother was forced to send him into the water trade, abandoning him forever and never acknowledging the fact that she had a child. She did it readily, knowing that there would be no point in casting them both into the streets.
And here Shinji was, barely ever speaking unless it was a light senseless mumble that rambled on and on until it became white noise. He was truly beautiful though, all the grace of a trained professional coiled inside of him, only being released in rare instances such as this one.
Shinji stood smoothly, holding the bowl he had prepared the tea in cupped with both hands. The surface barely rippled at all, his poise and gentle rising never rippling the water. He moved over to kneel in front of Yukimura, bowing and offering the bowl to him. His eyes never met Seiichi's, always downcast and staring at the floor. Sometimes Yukimura wondered if he looked anyone in the eye and then he would remember how Ibu stared up at Kamio sometimes. He smiled and took the bowl in his hands after returning the bow.
The tea was rich, the fragrance strong, and with his eyes closed Yukimura could almost imagine himself in a beautiful garden, kneeling in a small open area, sakura petals falling around him in waves. It soothed his aching throat, coating it with the warm liquid, healing him if only for a while. After taking a few more sips he bowed and passed it to Kamio, who echoed the bow and took a long drink from the bowl.
The ritual was over after Kamio gave the sacred bowl back to Shinji, settling back down in his position and smiling at Yukimura. Seiichi smiled back, at peace for the night. He watched as Shinji cleaned and put away each tool, handling most with a brocaded piece of silk. He laid them in their old, lacquered wood case and slid it reverently into a corner, mumbling a prayer before trailing back into his usual nonsense.
Kamio stood after a moment and knelt down near Shinji, gathering the other into his arms and cuddling him. Ibu rested into the embrace, hand curling in Kamio's kimono, head resting in the crook of the other's neck. Yukimura looked at them, soft smile sliding over his lips, envious of their connection with each other. Kamio protected Shinji from the harsh environment of the brothel, taking all the customers for him, letting the other play the Samisen or perhaps dance. Shinji's job was to simply look pretty, Kamio was just the vessel for what the customer really wanted. The base needs.
There was a soft knock on the wood of the doorway, Dan was kneeling quietly, waiting to be recognized.
"Yes, Dan?" Yukimura tilted his head inquisitively.
"Fuji-san needs you to watch the desk for a few moments...if you are not busy of course," Dan looked slightly stressed, probably from Akaya's outburst this morning. The boy tried so hard to please everyone that when he made a mistake he beat himself up almost all day over it.
Yukimura stood and bowed, thanking the two other courtesans for the ceremony and left the room. Dan padded in front of him, eyes downcast, taking the creaky stairs carefully so as not to disturb anyone. The corners of Yukimura's eyes crinkled as the scent from downstairs wafted into his lungs. An unmistakable smell for an unmistakable man, Seiichi thought with a frown, stepping down into the storage area. Bolts of silk lined the walls, expensive lengths of fabric folded and draped everywhere. He moved about the room, carefully avoiding any of the precious cloth that had made its way onto the floor and stepped out into the shop, behind the counter.
The brothel posed as a silk shop during the day, giving them a legitimate trade if anything were to happen to the courtesans.
As he suspected, Akutsu Jin, the bodyguard of the place was sitting on a stool in the corner of the shop. His opium pipe held in one hand, the cloying scent of the drug floating from the bowl of the pipe, polluting the air with its musky odor. He looked up briefly when Yukimura walked in, then tawny eyes traveled lazily back to the wall, tracing the cracks slowly with large pupils.
Yukimura adjusted his hair, looking at Fuji, who was standing at the counter fussing with some silk he was trying to embroider into a summer obi. The caretaker of the brothel glanced up, biting the thread with a snap and leaving the needle inside silk before standing.
"I'll be back in a just a moment, I have to go and speak with Kunimitsu...though I just hate to disturb him at this hour..." Fuji sighed and shook his head, stepping through the back room and towards the downstairs hallway that lead to the attached Sushi shop and his and Tezuka-san's room.
Akutsu remained motionless in the corner, eyes barely moving from the wall. Most people would consider him a bad person to have guarding the house, but little did they know the gray haired man could move with lightning fast reflexes no matter how drugged he was and once he got those hands on you...needless to say you would never do whatever you were doing again.
Yukimura sat down behind the counter, quietly coughing into the handkerchief he had received. The smell of the opium was cloying and hard to breathe past, it clouded the brain and made the world swim.
"Dan, could you open the curtain in front of the door please?" Seiichi sighed, keeping the kerchief by his face to filter out some of the smoke. He had no idea how Fuji could sit down here with the misty haze of opium constantly.
"Of course, desu," he scurried around the counter and adjusted the curtain, letting in the cool night air. Dan looked at Akutsu disapprovingly.
"You really shouldn't smoke so much, desu..." he sat down on a shorter stool next to Akutsu. The taller man looked down briefly before turning his eyes back to the wall, not acknowledging the boy.
Yukimura was about to say something else but was stopped as a tall, dark man walked through the door. The distinctive mark on his forehead betrayed him always as Tachibana Kippei, a black market dealer that came regularly. This man was the bane of Kamio's existence currently, always after Shinji even though he had been informed that Ibu didn't take customers.
He laid down his money and Yukimura took it, counting then setting it inside Fuji-san's pouch. Seiichi carefully removed the tag that had the name Ibu/Kamio on it, the only duel tag on the board and set it beneath the counter, noticing Kirihara's tag was still down. That meant Renji-sensei would be staying the night as usual. He would have to remember to tell Dan to ready the man's kimono so he could get to his job in the morning.
Yukimura sighed softly, watching Tachibana walk wordlessly to the back and disappear up the staircase, his footfalls creaking the old wood, marking his progress.
OooooO
Historical Notes (pt3)
(1) A bi is a small jade disk that is very common in jewelry but was used as a demon warding charm. Usually strung with red silk and having a small tassel on the end with gold thread, worn by men mostly.
(2)Momo-chan basically means little peach. The peach, ever since ancient times, was a model for the female genitalia. You can still see fertility rocks that were worshipped in the shape of peaches in Japan today. Though the worship became out of style. And the idea of calling a full-grown male chan is rather ridiculous.
(3)Tea ceremony is a tradition in Japan that is time honored. It is done quite often for ceremonial purpose though usually in an open area where people can enjoy the outdoor atmosphere. The whole ceremony Shinji does is as accurate as I can get it without making it boring. From the cleaning of the tools with the white rag, the ritual hand washing and the motions...so, if there are any detailed questions that need clarified just e-mail me.
(4)Maiko is the doll stage of the Geisha. They are overly dressed and painted, you can tell them apart from the actual Geisha's by their obi's that will be tied with a huge bow on the back that flows down almost to the ground. Also their distinctive split-peach hairdo that is coiled up almost like a geisha's but has a red bit of cloth to represent their innocence and is also her real hair, where a Geisha will start wearing a wig. They also wear much higher clogs.
Heart to all the reviewers!