GWAH? Belette here! GYAH! Alouette has been doing most of the writing here so now tis my turn to take over! MWAH!!
Oo HEEELLLOOOO
PLEASE ENJOY WHOOO!
Dontownnarutoifwedidwe'dbesostinkingrichandwe'dbehappysoblahness.
Make no sense what so ever. Meh.
OH YEAH if you'd like, please visit our uchihacest doujinshi we drew and wrote ourselves. The link is on our profile page. Im sure you all know how to get there. THANKIES.
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Lines fail so badly
"Let me get this straight" Kisame retorted, leaning his arm on the wooden table before him, smashed pieces of glass which previously acted as a solidified form of a glass, reflections danced upon the watery, drooping substance on the tatami mats of their apartment in the Oiran house. (Brothel sounds hardly appropriate)
"Uchiha Sasuke. Your baby brother. The guy who came at you with intent to kill a month ago. Is working here."
Itachi's back was turned to him, gazing out towards the window that lay at the side of the beds, his pale, painted fingers, and nails laden across the scratchings of oak bearings.
"Yes"
"As a whore?" Kisame retorted, almost chuckling at the sheer absurdity of the notion, the thought that little Uchiha, tiny Sparky was giving men, of all personalities rich, debauched, and oh so old.
Itachi turned to him and his eyes flashing with sharingan. Ruby red, passionate beauty in glossy coats of the iris.
Itachi nodded. Although Oiran held with it, etiquette. That did not, even though it may beg to differ, and refuse such association with that of a brothel whore. Oiran's were simply whores with intelligence. Though, one could question this, as a brothel represented only companionship for one night, sexual encounters, forced encounters of each of the genitals of the sexes.
Therefore, in this sort of substance, equation, the patrons went there simply to find a body to break passionate sweats upon the skin, and nerves. They never went there searching for a personality to gaze at from glazed windows of the eyes. No, the only thing they needed, was spinning iris's and fluttering eye lids as the body was pounded for all its worth.
Was it ever worth so much to you, dearest?
Kisame grabbed the bottle of sake, not having any sort of vessel to fill with the contents, took a deep, chugging swig of the alcohol, and almost downed the entire thing. he wiped his mouth and his teeth bared, in a smile.
"How does it make you feel, Itachi?" Kisame's smirk ever widening as he glanced towards Itachi's form.
Itachi's muscle made no attempt to move whatsoever.
"Go away, Kisame" One could neither pinpoint menacing tones through the monotone of audio.
Kisame sat there, glancing at the sharingan wielder, finished the bottle of sake, and shrugged his shoulders in indifference. Leaving to his own apartment for the night.
"G'night, Itachi-sama"
Itachi clawed at the indents in the wood of the wall, and glanced outside towards the man outside who appeared to be drunk, two Oiran hanging off of his arm, one slightly more sober than the other, they bumbled in the dark, bumping into odd's and ends, and the older man bursting into laughter at how funny a pickle on the ground appeared to be.
Itachi groaned inwardly.
Humans were very easily amused when they were withered down back to the amusement of a child. They found the slightest, smallest things, appearances, people, and amusements in the very simplest of the things around them.
Itachi's forehead softly made contact with the glass of the window, as rain began to pitter, and patter against the outside of the world, from within his apartment it was wet, and dank.
Sasuke was like the drunk man, amused in the slightest of amusements. Always finding some sort of shed light on something.
Itachi sighed, and left for his bed.
Though sleep would not come to him so easily, neither would it idle him by slowly sleeping beside him, stroking the skin of his cheek, but never, ever attempting to rouse him to the induced coma of rest.
The tinkers of the cranks inside his plot writing brain were at their unrest. The plot was going to thicken; Itachi would remind Sasuke what his purpose was. Whether he liked it or not. And Itachi would remind Sasuke that his body was not something to give to other men so easily.
Even if it meant, stirring the enticements they had as children to remind him.
Itachi inwardly smirked.
Tomorrow was going to be a long, trying day if this was to work towards his favour.
Itachi's place on Fortuna, Lady Luck's wheel of fate had better remain in his favour of fortune.
Or otherwise he was going to force it.
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"ONE MORE SAKE FOR THE MAN WHO SMELLS LIKE CABBAGED LEMONS!!"
"…WHAT SHIRO SAID, BUT BACKWARDS! CAW!"
"HEY! I don't smell like cabbaged lemons…wait…what the hell are cabbaged lemons?"
"NOBODY KNOWS MISTER!"
"NOBODY KNOWS!!"
Kuro and Shiro's squalling was rhymed in with the bustle of the shop, as the customer came drawling in, and so early in the bloody morning? Sasuke's head was thrumming with strings of pain lacing up against the front of his skull.
Sasuke poured the sake, and placed it on the metal, rounded tray as he delicately tried to avoid being tripped by the many flowered cushions laden across the floor. Threads of kimono delicately placed on the Oiran's knees, and white feet peeking out of the folds of kimonos were one of the many sights to see in such early of the morning.
Today was busy. Very busy. Completely busy.
Sasuke's head thrummed again.
'SHUT UP STUPID DAMMN HEAD' Sasuke screamed to himself, only realising thinking made the pain excessively, grow in its amount of pain.
Once Sasuke made it across the room towards the patron dressed in simple black and white robes, holding a paper fan to his face he gave the group a monotone expression, and placed the sake bottle, and cup onto the low levelled tables as they chatted amongst each other. Oiran's giving a brush of wrist, as patrons whispered in their ears and the Oiran pretended as if the comment made was the most humorous, or raunchy talk she had ever witnessed by ear.
Of course that was a lie. But then again, so was everything that was laden so easily in this palace of whores, and their art.
Sasuke poured the sake, and the man beside the patron he was pouring for watched his wrist. Addicted to the hope that Sasuke would unclothe it to his naked eyes.
Sasuke's rolled his eyes, and then discreetly moved his wrist movements to uncover the slightest appearance of pale, wrist skin to the patron.
The man smiled.
And Sasuke almost vomited in his mouth. Had the reflex not been taught out of his poor instincts.
"You have beautiful wrists, my dear." The man commented as Sasuke placed the bottle on the table handing the man his cup.
"Thanks" simply put, and simply presented.
The man chuckled, as he ran a hand through his white hair as he watched Sasuke.
"Aah! Kyouryuu-san! Always a faller for the fine, boys of this district, no?" The man wearing the bluish tinted robes across Kyouryuu commented, as he leaned towards the man and stealing a drink from the tray as he saluted the drink to the other men around the table and laughed out loud motioning towards them all.
The men followed, and suddenly Sasuke was in an all too familiar situation.
Situation of the male ego.
Who can insult the other the most, until their balls tighten with fear?
What a beautiful game of pity full of fools.
Kyouryuu laughed too, and after sipping at his own glass, leaned closer to the mean making a comment and grinned.
"At least they don't go running away at the sight of me, eh Oushi-san?" Kyouryuu smirked and raised an eyebrow at Oushi. Oushi's grey eyes blinked at the man, and he just burst out laughing as slapped the table in a frenzy of amusement.
The rest of the men laughed, their greyish, brown hair slicked back, or rounded at the back in a ponytail down their backs. Sasuke stood their as if he pretended he actually cared about what they were saying.
"Now, would you, dearest grace us with your presence by accompanying us to a drink or two?"
Kyouryuu smiled up towards Sasuke and gave his hand out, signalling Sasuke to take it. Whether command, or not Sasuke needed the money. And so had to uphold his part of the job contract.
To serve the customer at all times.
Good lord, it sounded just like living in Konoha.
Sasuke sighed, and bowed. Taking the mans hand, it was warm, leathery, and slightly hairy at the back of it. But never the less it remained rich in texture, and in appearance. Nobles had beautiful hands he noted.
Much like Itachi's.
Sasuke grimaced and grasped the mans hand a little tight and Kyouryuu winced, but chuckled.
"It seems our lovely boy has quite the grip!" Oushi remarked, watching his friend wince in slight pain.
Kyouryuu was bedazzled by the boy who was graceful in all manner of the word, Sasuke placed the bottom folds of his kimono underneath his thighs, sitting on his calves, and hands placed at his lap. The bow of the Obi sash rustling a little against the brown oak of the low levelled table. Sasuke gazed about the table of men.
All these men appeared in their late 50's. Rich. As they all were. Noble. As they all were. Debauched? Who knew. That sort of stuff only came out when they were alone with the Oiran.
"So, Little one, what do we call such a beauty as yourself huh?" Kyouryuu asked his chin in his hand as he leaned against the table.
Sasuke looked at him, no expression. All expression remained bottled, somewhere. They didn't deserve any expression. And Sasuke just didn't feel like giving any. He'd just pretend like he actually cared about any conversation at the table. Any at all. Then he would collect his money, and go to sleep. (Hopefully) Sasuke half hoped all the men would die of heart attacks at the exact same time.
What an awesome coincidence that would serve to be.
One could only hope.
"Sasuke" He replied.
Kyouryuu smiled warmly towards Sasuke as Sasuke looked at him, all expression just, failing to show.
"Sasuke-kun, is that okay?"
Sasuke shrugged.
"Does it matter?"
Hush fell upon the table. Never had the men met such a…well, to put it blatantly an Oiran that held no expression whatsoever, Sasuke didn't try to flirt, or touch, he just, sat there. Like a doll forced into the strings, on the stage. Sasuke, too, appeared slightly.
Well.
Rude.
Kyouryuu's smile grew. His intrigue for the boy had already swelled up to the size of a giant round globe.
"Look men, an Oiran with cheek! Our praises have been sung! What a rare species indeed!" Oushi sung out, his arms flailing above his head as the mean around the table grinned widely, drinking their sake with grace, and eloquence.
Sasuke glared towards the man.
"How does one hope to kiss an Oiran with no cheek, Huh?"
Sasuke smirked as the table once again rang silent. Surprise hanging above the table like a man at his death in the air. Noose to the neck.
Kyouryuu laughed, and laughed. Harder than ever, the men around him followed along, they were blatantly little puppets on strings to these two men. The big cheeses were already very much an obvious appearance to Sasuke.
These two men had money.
So he would focus in on these two.
"An Oiran with the tongue of a viper, how, appropriate! It's rare to find such a person with your, grace, beauty and mastery of words, and wit." Kyouryuu straightened his back taking a dango from the plate in the middle of the table and chewing on the sugary sweets on a stick.
Sasuke watched him intently. He liked sweets. If he liked sweets, most probably he liked different experiments. Sasuke would deduce the choices of how to swoon the man as so to suck as much money from his embroidered, silk pockets, pregnant with gold, and ready to birth it to Sasuke's waiting hands.
Sasuke was a ninja. Trained in many ways of espionage and such. So he would spy on this person's person without having to do a thing, but watch what he ate, what he drank, the way he used his hands to visually emphasize his words. And the way a person walked held a lot of significance to their own self.
Sasuke inwardly smiled to himself.
This guy was going to be easy to pin.
Sasuke placed his elbows at the table, leaning on his chin which only served to surprise the men at the table even more, at the almost lack of manners in the young boy Oiran.
"I hope you don't expect anything else witty from me, then." Sasuke exclaimed, his eyes darting towards the dango, in the mans mouth. Reaching out to take it and placing the remaining sweets in his own mouth to the entire tables' immense shock at the situation, the characters, and the plot.
This was a messed up Oiran.
And they all loved it.
Kyouryuu smiled, and shook his head. The grey bangs dangling from in front of his ear. His hair loosely bound in a ponytail. A collection of red strings tying at the bottom into the shape of a flower.
"I wouldn't dream of it, Sasuke-kun" He purred against his red lips, as he brang a glass of sake to his mouth.
Before Kyouryuu could do anything with the glass.
Sasuke's fingers were on it, and when he was right close up to Kyouryuu's face, he whispered against his lips.
"Then what would you dream of?"
Sasuke looked intently in Kyouryuu's eyes and stole the sake from his drink. Downing the whole thing into his throat. The vicious liquid stinging the back of it. Sasuke brought his head down and raised an eyebrow at Kyouryuu.
Silence just began to breed in the table area.
Oushi and the other men gaped.
Their mouths wide open.
Sasuke raised himself from the cushions, and bid farewell to his patrons, followed with a wave and a seductive sway of the hips, as if to sway towards their way:
You want me? You can have me. As long as you pay, bastard.
Only ever would this be prominent in Sasuke's case.
Oushi leaned towards Kyouryuu, a hand to the side of his mouth covering the whispered words from prying ears.
"That one sure is a prize, if ever one saw it" He breathed.
Kyouryuu could only nod.
"WHO WANTS MORE DANGOOOOOOOOOOO"
Kuro and Shiro squawked onto their table with sticks of dango to flail about.
"CABBAGED LEMON MAN?"
"I DON'T SMELL LIKE CABBAGED LEMON GOD DAMMNIT!"
Kyouryuu smirked, and watched the boy go.
When he had searched for a radiant Oiran to spend the lonely nights away from his home. Away from the naggings of his family.
He had come to the right place.
Itachi's sharingan swivelled in the hollow spaces of his skull. He remained, veiled in the illusion of his genjutsu. Hidden in amongst the shadowed form of a wolf statue in the corner of the room, close to the table Sasuke and the older men were sitting at.
He had seen the trifling flirtations of Kyouryuu and Sasuke.
The man sure was digging his own grave.
Itachi's genjutsu remained, and he transported himself back to his room, as a shadow swallowing himself to the wall of the floor.
OO Alouette thinks I suck at this.
I HIT HER BAD ALOUETTE.
She seethes most impressively.