Category: General
Rated: T (may go up)
Warnings: Yaoi, Character deaths (still haven't decided who, suggestions are welcome as long as they're not main characters, i.e., Atobe)
Summary: AU Historical fiction of high officials in the Tang dynasty vying for the throne
Pairings: Atoji, Dirty, MaruHara, SanaYuki, FujiTez, Golden, Silver, implied Data, Platinum… others haven't been decided yet. Requests accepted.
Note: this is a work of Historical Fiction, all events are fake and made-up, and most OC characters are completely made up save for a few, which I will specify.
Disclaimer: PoT is not mine
Forgive me if I'm out of character with Saeki, I don't really know much about him… I did do some research tho…
Riding into the Eastern Market, Fuji dismounted his horse at a local stable and walked through the streets. The Eastern Market was located in the central ground of aristocratic dwellings and therefore selling more rich, foreign, and exquisite wares compared to that of the commoners in the Western Market. Brushing a strand of loose hair that fell out of his hat, he watched a foreign sword-swallower for a moment before tossing a tael to the performer. Weaving in and out of the heavy crowd, he ignored the calls of merchants and the flocking of courtesans, Fuji made his way to the hotel that housed the poet Saeki Kojirou.
Tentatively knocking on the door of Saeki's dwelling, Fuji peeked in to find Saeki lying head down against a table with calligraphy brush in hand, dripping ink into an onyx pool, and long bamboo scrolls sprawled across the floor. Long silk robes with written verses of poetry decked the young poet, half falling off his shoulders to reveal his inner clothes. Flickering calligraphy in long, confident strokes plastered the furniture, showing off the artistic side of the youth. The man was ghastly pale, his long thin fingers wrapped around the brush in a skeletal manner, showing many scars incising his skin.
"My Saeki, have we been working hard?" Fuji mocked.
Saeki looked up, "Fuji, I was not expecting you today."
"Forgive me for the intrusion," smiled Fuji, "but there are matters I wish to discuss with you."
"Would you like to discuss with the poet or the murderer?"
"You're not a murderer, merely an assassin."
Saeki shook his head, "Merely. Tell me, what do you have in mind?"
Fuji gazed at the light coming through the window, chasing the little ghosts away, then at the door.
"Ah, this is serious," Saeki said, closing the woollen curtains and changing the face he carried as the artist into the darker façade of the assassin. Fuji often thought of Saeki as one of the magicians of QinQiang, with their ever-changing faces. (1) Nevertheless, Saeki was accomplished at both his crafts.
"I don't want to burden you with something as trivial as this, I only wish to purchase some poison." Fuji explained.
"Poison?" Saeki raised an eyebrow.
"Sanada's spy, Uchimura," Fuji sighed, "I did not wish to kill him, as he wasn't obtaining too much information, but now that everyone's becoming suspicious, one cannot be too careful."
"Well, how do you want the poison?" Saeki gently lifted his pillow to show three black vials of liquids and pointed to the first one. "This one here; it is disguised as a scent but as soon as it is applied, it will seep into the skin, killing the victim. It is also useful for coating weapons, though I doubt you'll need it."
"I have heard of it, is it the famed White Peony (2)?"
Saeki shook his head, "it acts slower, more painfully, very useful for extracting information."
"However, you use a different method, do you not?"
"Yes, I prefer pins," With that, the assassin took out a thin pin from his hair and showed it to Fuji. "For example, one stab in the abdomen," He pointed to an area on the left side of his stomach, "And it will cause tremendous pain, like a thousand ants crawling on you at the same time."
Fuji chuckled; it was a melodic sound, mixed in with the acrimony of Saeki's speech. He handed the pin back to Saeki, "It sounds like you have mastered this."
"I'm not an assassin for nothing, Fuji." Saeki replied and took out another vial, "this is a fast, almost painless one and it is slipped in letters and works if inhaled. However, you must make sure the letter gets to the right hands and no one else opens it."
"Then it is too dangerous for me."
The scarred hand grabbed the last vial, "This is one to be drunk. It is tasteless, odourless and colourless; one drop in a drink is enough to kill… but not immediately. Slowly, it will travel to the heart…it might take about an hour, depending on the amount."
"Ah, perfect!" Fuji reached out to examine the vial, brushing his hair aside carelessly. Saeki studied the young noble as he waited for Fuji to speak again. He thought that the gentle flutter of his movements were as eloquent as ever and more graceful than the most trained dancer. Finally, Fuji asked, "How do you sell it?"
"50 taels for half a vial, it is more than enough."
"Done," Fuji took out his pouch and counted 50 copper taels, humming to himself as he did, "Thank you, Saeki."
"I wish to you good luck, Fuji, and if you ever require my services…"
"I know where to find you," Fuji replied, taking his leave.
He made his way through the crowd again, dodging merchants' carts and messengers' horses. Most people gawked openly at him, his silk clothing, elegant features and genial smile. Fuji ignored them all and continued his journey but he stopped at a small stand to purchase wontons for lunch. Using his chopsticks to pick out the parsley, he chatted with the people around him.
"Judging by your clothes, you must be the fifth rank or above. It is rare to see such high ranks in the markets these days…they all seem so busy." The stall vendor remarked, studying Fuji's clothing.
"Ah," Fuji agreed, picking up his chopsticks.
"It must be because of the Empress Dowager; she is strict, but governs the land well."
"She is intelligent."
"She is, but I have heard that she is having trouble picking out an heir…"
"Hn."
"Truth be told, it doesn't matter to us peasants who rules over the land. As long as we have enough to eat, a roof over our heads and enough clothing to shield us from the cold, we're satisfied."
When Fuji didn't answer, he continued.
"Of course it's all different for you in high places isn't it? Regardless, I've always wondered what it would be like. Maybe in my next life I'll be fortunate enough to be born with enough money for school and can go to the examinations."
Fuji took another bite of the wontons, his hair falling in an arc over his face. With eyes still hidden behind a plaintive smile, Fuji thought about the man's circumstances.
"You're not talking; do you think that I talk too much?" The man suddenly asked.
"Oh, no, of course not, I was just thinking how excellent these wontons are." Fuji replied.
"Have some more…?" The man asked hopefully.
"Sorry, I haven't the time…" Fuji took out his pouch, "How much would it be?"
"Two taels," The man replied.
Fuji paid the man five and took his leave, ignoring the loud thanks of the man and the speculating crowd. He wasn't in the mood for any of that nonsense. He had a mission to accomplish and he had to finish it tonight. Taking his horse out of the stables, he mounted and rode off to Tezuka's mansions, leaving a trail of dirt behind him.
As he glided into the courtyards, he saw a young boy, known as Echizen Ryoma, feeding the fishes in Tezuka's pond. Fuji recognized him as a boy with medium birth and exceptional intelligence. He was currently staying at Tezuka's mansion in preparation for taking the examination that will probably bestow upon him a title and land.
"Good afternoon Echizen," Fuji greeted the young boy.
"Fuji," Echizen gave Fuji a curt nod before continuing to feed the fish. His silk clothing was wrinkled and dirtied, it seemed that Echizen had no regard to fine things. Fuji noticed that Echizen was using a gold bowl, engraved with poems, to hold the fish food.
Stifling a chuckle, Fuji decided to talk to the young scholar, "Shouldn't you be preparing for the examination?"
"Whatever, the others are all dim-witted," Echizen replied without hesitation.
"Confident are we?" Fuji tilted his head to one side mockingly.
"Very."
The fishes stirred gently to the surface, fighting over the food sprayed across the pond. The two watched, entranced by the vibrant movement of the fish cutting through the green waters. Spellbound by the tender flicker of the water, neither of them heard the entrance of the two seventh-rank officials, Momoshiro Takeshi and Kaidoh Kaoru.
"You IDIOT! I thought I told you to put that in the report!" Loud, distinct arguing clouded the courtyard, ending the peaceful serenity.
"It was unnecessary, you viper!"
"It was NOT."
Fuji and Echizen turned to the two squabbling men. Momoshiro was donned in the suit of armour signifying his sixth rank. He walked heavily, the iron of his armour weighing him down, leaving deep footsteps in the soil. Awkward movements marked his body as he argued aggressively with the other. Kaidoh was the first to notice the two intruders of their argument. His hair was dripping with sweat, as if he had just been exercising. Long salty lines trailed down his throat, in fluid symmetry. His loose tunic tumbled down his body, the folds of thick hemp hiding the sword that hung there. Occurring more often than not, Fuji and Echizen were used to the loud squabbles of the militants.
"Young Lord Fuji," Kaidoh cut off Momoshiro.
"It's hard to say whether you two love each other or hate each other," Fuji said, as a way of greeting.
Kaidoh immediately reddened up while Momoshiro uttered incoherent protests, fumbling with his armour and swaying his arms around.
"Is Tezuka in?" Fuji inquired, his singsong voice suddenly turning serious.
Momoshiro quickly replied, "Yes, he is in the library."
Fuji quickly took his leave, walking along the stone path towards the secluded library of Tezuka's mansion. The sunlight dimmed as he reached the courtyard, hiding behind the bamboo shoots. A warm spring wind caressed Fuji's cheek, carrying with it the sweet smell of peonies. In the distance, Fuji heard the arguing of Momoshiro and Kaidoh start up again, joined by the acrobat Kikumaru. The sound, smell and breeze quickly faded as Fuji entered the empty courtyard.
"Who's there?" Fuji heard a call from inside, as Tezuka sensed, rather than saw, Fuji's presence.
"It is only me," Fuji replied, entering the room, "here to bring you a present."
When Tezuka didn't reply, Fuji took out the small vial from his sleeves and placed it on the table in front of Tezuka.
"What is it?" Tezuka asked, finally setting down his book.
"Poison," Fuji said in a singsong voice, "For our little spy."
"When?"
"Tonight, at dinner," Fuji replied, taking his leave, "Don't worry, Tezuka. The blame will not fall to us."
Tezuka picked up his book again, "I don't doubt it."
Fuji stepped out of the pavilion and started towards the kitchen, humming to himself as he did. As usual, the kitchen emitted scents too numerous to dissect. Steam rose in a steady line out of the window as a maid hurried away with a platter of rich food and another entered the kitchen with an empty plate. The kitchen was, as most southerners agreed, where the magic of longevity happened. Ironically, the kitchen was also where most poisons were served, sweetly disguised as delicate dishes.
"Kawamura?" Fuji asked as he stepped through the door.
"Fuji!" Kawamura quickly wiped his hands on a towel and hurried towards Fuji. "What brings a young lord like you such a humble dwelling?"
"I am in need of a favour," Fuji replied.
"Yes?"
Fuji took hold of Kawamura's hand and passed the poison to Kawamura through their sleeves (3).
"Poison."
"For whom?" Kawamura's eyes widened.
"For Uchimura. One drop is enough." Fuji said, "Will you help me?"
"Of course."
"Thank you," Fuji inclined his head in thanks. "I trust you to carry it out, Takashi, for I cannot stay." With that, Fuji exited the kitchen.
"I will," Kawamura said belatedly, staring at the spot Fuji once stood. The air around him seemed to be freer, now that Fuji was gone. It seemed as though the air stayed still when the young noble was present, but after leaving, all Kawamura felt was a sense of foreboding.
(1) QinQiang (秦腔) is the patriotic opera of the Tang, originating from the Qin dynasty; one act had magicians with painted faces changing them into different colours with a flick of the sleeve. If you've never heard Chinese opera, it's somewhat hard to describe, it is agreed that QinQiang is the loudest of all Chinese Opera. (You could always search秦腔on Youtube)
(2) White Peony: white is the colour of mourning in China and Peony is considered the king of flowers, also the country's national flower. I think it is a fitting name for a strong poison originating in the treacherous Tang dynasty.
(3) Costumes usually had large flappy sleeves useful for hiding documents, poison and weapons. People usually pass them by connecting the two sleeves so no outsider can see what is being passed. It is also a way to bargain secretly a heavy price.
A/N: I currently cannot get in conntact with my last beta so a friend of mine betaed this just for this time. If anyone wants to beta for me, please msg me! I have several chapters done but no beta.