A/N:

Hey everyone!

How are y'all doing? I hope you're all doing fine and healthy.

It's been months since I updated this fic :( but now, I got more motivated and found my drafts for this story, so yay, here it is~

I'm glad to see new readers, followers and faves! ;A; Thank you so much! And I really really really wish to hear your thoughts in the reviews. Enjoy! :)

"My name is Kuri, and I will be the courtesan who'll be serving you tonight. Please enjoy your time in Yoshiwara, sir.

...

Takasugi was still holding the shamisen, confused at the situation.

Gintoki did walk out of the shop after not getting picked – serves him right, that damn perm. But still, that doesn't explain what she's doing here. He didn't recall asking for a change in courtesan – heck, he didn't recall asking for anything since he didn't even speak at all.

Wordlessly, the woman called Kuri knelt down beside him, making sure to keep a distance between them, and received his hard stare with a softer one, as if she was reading though him – and alas, that was what she did, because her next words were answers for his questions.

"I am aware that you didn't ask for a change in courtesan, and even if you did, you would probably not choose me as Isuzu-san's replacement, since you have made it clear that I was not suitable for your taste earlier. But, the shop's packed today and I am the only available one, and since you're still a customer of this shop, it is my duty to not leave you alone and do my best to entertain you."

Taken aback, he put the shamisen down.

"Isuzu-san informed me about you. I'm fine with you not speaking and I won't bother you either, so please don't mind me and do continue playing", she continued talking, while gesturing towards the shamisen.

"I wish to be alone."

He had said it like lightning, and the thunder of realization came late, only when he saw the corner of her lips lift ever so slightly.

"If that is what you truly wish, then you should've just continued glaring at me. Instead, you just spoke to me. Should I be flattered?"

Takasugi was dumbfounded at the courtesan's wit.

If he didn't say anything to refute, and glared at her, he would just prove her to be right. But if he spoke to her, even if he was refuting her statement, he would still prove her to be right. Since he was thinking of what he should do, he ended up glaring at her, while thinking about his next move.

The light giggle filling his ears indicated that she knew she had just cornered him.

"Stop giggling."

And he realized that this statement just made it worse, but screw it all.

The girl bit her lip, in an attempt to stop her heightened chuckling. Annoyed, Takasugi slammed the cup on her side of the table, "Shut up and pour me a damn drink", wanting to get this over with.

Effectively, the girl did stop her giggles and her eyes widened. She then skillfully poured sake on his cup, while his right hand held the cup. However, just as he was going to retract his hand and bring the cup closer to him, he felt her fingers on his own, as she stopped him, "Are you allowed to drink?"

"Lady, you're only asking that now?"

Shrugging, she released her hold, "I'm just kidding. I'll be turning 18 in a few months, and yet here I am serving men...and boys.", she scoffed; and he was about to be offended, when she shifted to a darkened expression, "For the record, I was already here since I was about to turn seven."

That was when Takasugi realized that unlike the other girl, who was plainly materialistic, this girl, who was older than him and was presently sharing the air in this room with him, seemed to be more principled and sensible.

"But that's Yoshiwara for you. It doesn't matter how old or young you are, as long as you can still provide service, you are needed in this place."

That statement of hers sparked something in him. Somehow, he could relate.

It was the same in war.

No matter how old or young you are, as long as you can still fight, you are needed to win.

Being reminded of his army of volunteers of various ages, the Kiheitai, Takasugi just silently sipped the clear liquid.

It was bitter.

A few moments after, he heard her move, then left his side. Her steps were quiet and as gentle as her voice, as she went to pick up the shamisen. She started out by plucking the strings, until she found the melody. It was a song he recognized. While it wasn't something he could play by heart, it was a piece common enough for him to appreciate the tune and to spot her mistakes.

While correcting the mistakes he had pointed out, she apologized, "Sorry. I have a friend who's better at playing the shamisen."

"Miss-one-of-the-best?"

The dark-haired teen couldn't believe it himself, but he just quoted the stupid light-haired jerk, Gintoki.

The courtesan appeared to get who he referred to, when she replied, "No, not Isuzu-san. That friend of mine is not just miss-one-of-the-best-girls. She is miss-one-of-the-best-girls-in-Yoshiwara."

Her face brightened, "Actually, we started around the same time but unlike me, the newbie-girl-in-red...", then she broke into a smile, with the nickname, before continuing, "...she's a rising star – kind of like the sun in the dark."

'Sun in the dark', he amusedly repeated in his mind.

Just when he was getting impressed at her selection of words, she decided to play another song, and Takasugi could only sigh, as he proceeded to correct and teach her.

"Tell me, who's serving who now? You should pay me for this, Lady Kuri."

Placing the three-stringed instrument down, she had a dangerous look in her eyes. She leaned closer to him, "Very well. Then as payment, you can do anything you want with me."

The emerald lenses of the intelligent army leader were not to be fooled by the moves of a courtesan – a relatively attractive one (well, they were dolled up and made to be pretty, he justified to himself). However, that didn't change the fact that said warrior was still a teen, who had consumed liquor. He had noticed something different in her, that was displayed by her fierce chestnut gaze, and by the bold and clever words, that come out of her dangerously red lips.

But then again, he was much greater than alcohol and his hormones; and he learned that she was no ordinary courtesan, and that if he attempted to move away or even if he simply broke eye contact, she would be victorious. And he was not one who would lose a war.

Feeling competitive, he composed himself. With green irises locked on dark gray ones, he wittily spat back, in a low tone, "That's not a payment. That's your work, lady."

At his words, he heard how her breath hitched, and saw how her gaze briefly fell on his lips, before meeting his eyes once again. It took him a lot of self-control to not do what she did, but stopping the anticipation burning from his chest to his whole body was becoming a difficult task to do.

Fortunately, what felt like eternity had ended, when she pulled herself back and exhaled, "That's right."

Despite her pinkish cheeks, she managed to return to her collected state, "Thank you for teaching me to play better...sir?"

With her questioning tone and with his still jumbled mind, he instantly replied.

"Tōgyō."

Fuck it.

The name was perfect, anyway.

It was a perfect name for a fleeting night. A name that will be easily forgotten in this place, where names really don't matter. The name, Tōgyō, meant 'go to the east.' It was a nickname given to him by his closest subordinates in the Kiheitai – well, at least the very first batch of the Kiheitai, who were now mostly dead. Thus, only very few knew this name. Not even Katsura, Gintoki and Sakamoto knew about this, which only made it perfect for this situation. This night is meant to be buried underground – just like his nickname. Nobody would hear about this night. He would never let anyone know that he had actually managed to talk to a Yoshiwara courtesan.

"Then, thank you, Tōgyō-san."

Red kimono fluttered, as she stood up and settled back to the table, then softly smiled at him, "I believe I should feel honored to have gotten your name, though, I doubt it's your real name."

Just like how he rose up, his brows raised in challenge, "Oh? It may or may not be my real name. But then again, do names even matter in this place?"

With one knee folded towards him, he sat at one corner of the table, and grabbed the cup, she had extended towards him. He was about to drink, when he sensed a change in the atmosphere. Looking up from his cup, he saw the same darkened and fierce eyes, in contrast to the smile she still had.

"Indeed, names don't really matter in this place of lies and deceit. Names are simply there to assist the customers in identifying commodities and dolls like us, and are usually forgotten when the services are completed."

As soon as she had laid down her fearless thoughts, she blinked fast, in realization, and lowered her head politely, "I'm sorry. I'm supposed to provide you with entertainment."

Meanwhile, he was still clutching the cup, stunned by her bluntness. Honestly, he liked this genuineness, and rebellious nature.

He's a rebel, after all.

Surely, she was leading to somewhere with her statement, so with a smirk, he twirled the cup on his fingers, "Go on. I prefer sad stories over fairy tales, anyway."

He was aware that his words had an effect on her, and that something ignited in her, as well, when she nodded, "Let me entertain you, then."

They had somewhat reached an understanding, he concluded.

"We were brought into Yoshiwara at such a young age. Most of us, due to age and shock, don't recall our real names, so we were just given nicknames. As you can guess, I'm called Kuri or 'chestnut' because of my hair. On the other hand, the young girls, who knew their real identities, retained their names."

Quietly sipping his drink, he simply listened. The liquid was refreshing, but it stung his throat, as it passed by.

"But in my case, I lied about not knowing my name. Though I don't clearly remember the faces and names of those who sold me here, I do remember my name."

For someone working in – quoting her – a place of lies and deceit, she was being very honest, right now. He was certain that she was telling the truth, but he didn't feel the need to interrupt her – not when she had that look in her eyes, once again.

"I wanted to keep my real name and let it be an identity different from Kuri. It's the only thing left in me that's untainted and pure."

Full of determination in her posture – which the warrior, who had cut down amantos, was very familiar with – she let go of her mask, "That is my way of fighting to free myself from this place."

In that moment, the person sharing the space with the leader of the Kiheitai was not the courtesan, Kuri. Instead, what the green-eyed samurai saw was a woman, yearning for freedom – a warrior battling her own war.

Before he could even ask why she was telling him all of this, she dropped a question.

"Is there a war outside?"

And with that, alarm bells began to loudly ring in his head.

Wait.

No way.

What the hell.

Does she know who he is? Is she a spy? Is this all a trap?

No wonder, she was being too chatty and honest. Damn it! These courtesans. This woman of Yoshiwara.

Not showing any sign of agitation, he scanned the room for possible weapons and exit points, while questioning her, "What are you talking about?"

The hairpin on her brown locks, the kanzashi, swayed, as she moved closer to him, "There is, isn't it? You're fighting in the war, right?"

Her brows slowly furrowed, as she neared him, as if she had noticed the distress he was feeling. Sensing the threat even more, the samurai swiftly yanked the kanzashi off her, and pushed the pointed tip at her neck, while pinning her down the ground, with his right knee between her legs.

She made no move to resist him. Rather, her gaze never left his. It almost seemed like she was worried about him.

"So, I'm correct. There is a war. Your reflexes and strong grip can't lie."

Despite the fear and worry in her eyes, she still managed to boldly speak. Irritated, he added more pressure to the kanzashi at her pale skin, "How did you– "

"I swear it was just a hunch", she even dared to cut him off.

The woman gulped, then began to explain, "A group of young men, some with visible scars..", pausing a bit, as her lenses fell to an exposed part of his chest, "while some with hidden ones."

This led him to place more weight on her, causing her to yelp. Nevertheless, she still talked, "B-but what struck me the most were the look in all the young men's eyes...they all held some sorrow and pain in them."

Again with her poetic lines, which were dangerously true.

Somehow, he just couldn't find any trace of deception from her, as she resumed, "However.."

He must've been distracted by her words or by her watery eyes, because her right hand started moving, and was trying to reach out to his face.

With both of his hands preoccupied, he could only push her down more, and dig the tip of the hairpin even deeper on her flesh, "Touch me and I'll kill you."

In response, a tear fell from her right eye; and in defiance, her thumb hovered close under his left eye, then brushed the bags under.

"In all your darkness and death, you still have light and life...your eyes...they might lack luster but they're green...the color of life."

.

.

.

"Takasugi?", an all-too-familiar voice belonging to a brown perm-head was heard over the door, making Kuri halt in her crying, and snapping Takasugi up from whatever thoughts and feelings he just had about what she just stated.

"Ahahahaha are you there? Am I interrupting you? Or are you done fuc– "

"What do you want, you fucking idiot? And no one's doing anything!", he interrupted, clearly not wanting to hear any more of the moron's nonsense.

"AHAHAHA what? You're fucking an idiot? Ahahaha go on, but make it quick okay?"

Before he could even retort at the guy, who probably has problems in hearing – curse the perms – another familiar voice added to his growing irritation. This time, the owner was the fool with long dark hair.

"Takasugi! Don't tell me you're *bleep* *bleep* and *bleep*? Or is it *bleep*, *bleep*? Stop that now! Argh! I can't take this, Sakamoto. I'll go and find Gintoki."

"Okay, Zura~", Sakamoto drawled, and Takasugi could hear a "It's not Zura. It's Katsura!", growing faint by the distance.

"Yeah, yeah. Oh right! Takasugi, just finish your fucking quickly. We have to leave now. Seems like this place is connected to an amanto group or something. AHAHA..Aha"

"What?!"

In contrast to his outburst, the perm only continued with his ridiculous laughing, which was still vexing even if it was a little muffled by the door and walls between them. Frustrated and alarmed, he studied the woman beneath him. Did she know? Could she be a spy for this amanto group?

Replaying everything she had said earlier, and seeing her puzzled and tear-stricken expression caused him to doubt his own suspicions. Regardless of whether she 's a spy or not, he still needed to get out of this place, anyway. That said, Takasugi slowly withdrew the kanzashi, as he declared, loud enough for the stupid deaf at the door to hear, "I'll be outside in a minute."

At the sight of the lady underneath him – with legs parted due to his knee, with a part of her hair loosened, with wrinkled clothes, and with flushed cheeks – the teen immediately pulled away from her and defensively shouted, "And nobody's fucking, you bastard!"

"Ahahahaha! We'll wait at the entrance."

When the obnoxious "ahahaha's" started fading out, the woman, who just sat up, held her gaze firmly at him, as she straightened out her kimono, "I'm really sorry. Don't worry, my lips are sealed. I promise."

Wordlessly, he handed out her kanzashi, and immediately stood up, after she received it. Instead of fixing her chestnut tresses, though, she titled her head up at him and tried to confirm something.

"Is it for freedom?"

Easily figuring out that she meant the war he was currently part of, he nodded.

"Then that's good."

Of course, she understood. She was fighting for freedom in her own way, as well.

The female warrior rose to her full height, which was inches shorter than his, and sincerely voiced out, "I wish you luck, Takasugi-san."

Hearing his real name from her mouth gave him mixed feelings. However, when he realized how she had learned about it, the feeling of exasperation dominated, as he hissed under his breath, "Those fucking morons."

"You'll come back, right?"

No.

Of course, he won't. This was a dangerous place, and he still has a lot to do.

This night was one to be forgotten – along with the name Tōgyō.

But then again, Yoshiwara was a place of lies and deceit, so maybe he can just tell a little lie, "When I do come back, you should be better in playing the shamisen, Lady Kuri."

A curve of her lips made her features softer, and the dark-haired man had to turn around and walk, to avoid such radiance. Just as he was about to open the door, however, she spoke again.

"Setsuna."

This made him glance back at her.

"Look for Setsuna, when you come back. It's written with the characters, 世and 純 , which respectfully means 'world' and 'pure'."

'Setsuna', he internally tested, while he etched both her face and true identity on his mind.

The world is pure.

That was what her name meant.

For someone, like him – like her – who had seen how filthy the world was, it sounded absurd.

But maybe, that's why she didn't give such name up. She protected it and held it dearly. It was her hope and her goal.

Deep inside him, the world being pure was something he wanted to believe in, as well. Sensei was still out there. Therefore, winning this war, and saving their sensei meant that the world will be pure again.

And finally, he thought that maybe the little lie he told her could turn into truth someday – a day when the sake she'll pour for him will taste sweet – as he faced the door and uttered his next words.

"Takasugi Shinsuke."