Author's note: Dear readers, first off I really want to thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews I've gotten so far on both this story as well as my other pieces. You're all amazing and really make me understand why writing is my passion!

Here's the next installment of Misaki's journey. I'm really excited to start this piece and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I have so far.

~1~

It was the autumn of 1922 in Kyoto when Isaka Ryuuichirou was first brought Takahashi Misaki.

The streets, made of mismatched stones of all sizes and shapes, took on a pallor that was cast by the farmer's moon that hung low over the hills. The night was quickly closing in. Everything, from the streets, to the canals, and the bridges, were sprinkled with an assortment of orange and red leaves, plucked by gusts of ice-cold air from the sea. The blazing colors dappled against the red of ancient architecture, made the world seem as if it were burning, underneath the scarlet glow of the moon.

The okiya where Isaka lived and managed stood deep within the maze of alleyways that made up the city; the shadows cast from the other buildings surrounding it made the night always seem darker, even with pale light of lanterns that were posted round the main gate. At night, the wind would rattle at the doors of Isaka's apartment like the hands of a greedy robber, leaving him up into the wee hours of the morning scrambling to remember exactly how many millions of yen worth of hakama, kimono, and furs that Asahina had told him were in the storage room upstairs.

But tonight, though the wind was as fierce as ever, he was counting more than just hakama, kimono, and fur. Isaka leaned down against the papers that littered his desk and looked out through the window. Surely no place on earth was more majestic than Kyoto, he thought, staring out at the hundreds of buildings that surrounded the okiya, still sparkling with life despite the hour. He sighed, drumming his fingers against the desk.

She's late…again! Blast that Aikawa. I bet she's probably out buying all kinds of treats to ease the brat's crying. I swear when she's back here I'll…

The door opened. "Ryuuichirou-sama, they've arrived," Asahina called, having to duck to make his way into the room. Though he originally started out as a servant to the Ryuuichirou family, being Isaka's hired "playmate", Asahina was well liked by Isaka's parents and was quickly considered family among his masters. At first Isaka couldn't stand the thought of a peasant becoming his new "cousin", but once he inherited the okiya from his parents, he too found that Asahina's way with numbers and pragmatic personality was rather useful in the business…plus, Isaka supposed the guy had his extra charm on the side. Although, there was no official titles given, or even a handshake to truly solidify things between the two men, if someone asked who was the actual manager of the okiya, any patron would say, "Asahina-san, of course."

Isaka exhaled deeply, pushing himself from his desk to stand. "What am I going to do with Aikawa? She thinks I run on her Dolly-Do-Good schedule. It's three o'clock in the morning, dammit! No train to Kyoto takes that damn long!"

"Leave her be," Asahina replied. "She has keen sense for finding potential. Remember, almost every success we've had here has been because of her choosing."

"Too bad she doesn't have a keen sense of time," Isaka grumbled underneath his breath.

He went to open the door, but Asahina stopped him. "We said that we'd meet the boy in your office tomorrow morning."

"But I want to meet him now," Isaka retorted, trying again to slide open the door.

Asahina's large hand grasped his wrist and he looked him straight in the eye. "We should wait. He hasn't properly bathed."

Isaka narrowed his eyes. "So?"

"Its not fair to him if he hasn't even had the chance to bathe."

"It's not fair that Aikawa had me up for three extra hours because she wants to toy around with some little boy like he's her personal baby doll!" Isaka was not a tall man and his shoulders were as narrow as a boy's but he somehow managed to push his way past Asahina and out the door, not bothering with even putting on a pair of shoes.

"I don't want you to be disappointed, Ryuiichirou-sama, but he's not exactly a little boy," Asahina muttered, standing at the top of the stairs with his arms crossed, watching Isaka clatter down the staircase like a bulldog at the sound of Aikawa's cooing from the court yard. The okiya had a traditional floor plan, where the structures of the property opened out to a small courtyard, which was paved by polished wood floorboards that wrapped around the outside of the large main house. Though the okiya itself had over seven buildings, it fit into a smaller area than a regular home in the country and housed only four people at the time.

Standing next to the woman was a young boy, in his teenaged years, dressed in a cheap rags that resembled a makeshift kimono. He was short and boyish, but obviously, not the "little" boy Isaka had been expecting. Not again, with her girlish stupidity, dammit! "Oi, Aikawa! We agreed that you'd be here by midnight! You're three hours late!"

The woman turned to look at him; almost immediately, her pleasant demeanor was washed away with a twisted scowl. "Oh hush, Isaka-san! The poor boy was hungry! I couldn't just leave him that way!"

"What "poor" boy! That's a grown man you have with you!" he barked. Then he stopped his barrage down the stairs, like he'd been frozen by a thought. There was a moment of silence before Isaka came back to life, charging down the stairs with even more force, yelling "Aikawa! Don't you dare tell me that this kid is my recruit! I thought we had a deal! Twelve or younger!"

By now, the boy had dropped his gaze to the ground and was shaking as if Isaka was some kind of demon planning to eat him right then and there. On the other hand, Aikawa was clearly unimpressed with this little snit and was crossing her skinny arms over her chest. "So what? He's seventeen! Four little years don't make that much of a difference," she yelled back.

"Seventeen? I thought fourteen at the oldest but seventeen? You must be mad!"

"Age doesn't matter! I think he's so well behaved already, he doesn't need you smacking him around for four extra years!"

"No one asked you to think, Aikawa!" Isaka made his way into the courtyard, still without any shoes, glaring at the two with all of his might. He had to squint. It was too dark to make out much of the young boy's face beside his eyes, which were large and watery like he'd just got done from crying.

How dare she! How dare she bring this filthy brat into my okiya and expect that I'm just going to let him live here like some kind of pathetic squatter!

Aikawa huffed and rolled her big eyes before turning to the boy and whispering something into his ear with a soft giggle. The boy flashed the smallest of smiles and nodded. Isaka's blood burned.

Finally, Asahina stepped in, already making his way down the stairs. "Ryuiichirou-sama, no more. Allow the boy to bathe and dress himself before you make any rash decisions about him. We're all tired, so please, just go to bed." Then he turned to Aikawa and said, "Aikawa-san, thank you very much for your hard work. Please take care of the boy." He bowed to her and she returned the gesture. From there, the grumbling Isaka was escorted back up the stairs and into his office that led into the bedroom.

"I can't believe her," Isaka huffed as he began dragging his futon out from its place in the closet. "I really cannot believe her! That woman thinks I'm in the business for a poor house!"

"Or perhaps she sees potential," he said. He flinched when Isaka finally wrestled the heavy futon free and allowed it to fall against tatami with a thunk. "We should at least give her a fair chance," Asahina continued. "The kid might actually be worth looking at. I noticed, while you were pitching your fit, he has small feet. He isn't getting much bigger from here."

"So?" Isaka hissed, making his way back to the closet to snatch a set of sheets from the top shelf. "He's at the age where any kind of training wont do him good! We can't ask to change the way a seventeen year old boy looks at men!" He came stomping back and threw the sheets onto the futon. Then, he set to taking off his kimono. "We can't have him rejecting clients because he's uncomfortable with serving males!" he said, his angry fingers stumbling at the knot of his obi before he was able to tear it off and throw it in the corner of the room in a huff. Asahina blew a sharp breath and went to collect the tossed away fabric.

"I think it's worth a try, Ryuiichirou-sama. He's come a very long way." He carefully wrapped the obi and set it on top of Isaka's unruly desk before walking over to his master. He stood behind him, wrapping his arms around the smaller man's waist. Isaka squirmed at the touch, but Asahina held tight. Then he leaned down to press his lips against Isaka's smooth cheek. "Can't you wait until tomorrow?" After another kiss to the same spot, the tension in Isaka's shoulders relaxed ever so slightly and he leaned his head back against the man's firm chest.

"Why should I listen to you?" he said in all but a whisper.

"Because, money is everything, right," Asahina replied.

"True."

"And because I know money."

Isaka huffed defiantly and slowly nodded. Asahina always had a way of swaying Isaka's opinion.

Asahina had been right. Misaki had come a very long way to reach Kyoto.

It had been just like any other normal day—he had woken up, cooked Takahiro his breakfast, gone to school, and came back from home, anticipating an empty house as usual. With his brother working so often, he usually had to cook dinner by himself—not that he really minded much. He loved cooking and had developed quite the skill for it, and since he had a radio, he was able to listen to music while he prepared the meal, waiting for his brother to arrive home.

However that day, Misaki had entered the home to both his brother and a strange woman sitting in their main room of their house, which was merely a two-room home with pitted dirt floors. After some friendly conversation, the woman, explained herself to be Aikawa, and that she was going to take care of Misaki for a while. Confused, the boy asked his brother to explain—Takahiro gave a babbling, miserable response, eventually coming up with, "We will see each other again, very shortly, Misaki. Now, mind your manners while you're with Aikawa-san."

After he'd been told he had to leave – which was a surprise within itself – Misaki only had twenty minutes to say goodbye to his brother before Miss Aikawa was taking him away. It was a painful goodbye—Takahiro was on the verge of tears, begging Misaki to be strong.

From there, the pair spent two whole days in and out of crowded trains that reeked of humidity and close quarters, watching the ocean's horizon disappear behind rolling hills. Once the train stopped in Kyoto, they found a rickshaw that would take them to their destination, weaving them through city streets that glowed with electricity, hints of a modern world Misaki had only seen in pictures but never imagined to be true. Although Aikawa kept him well fed and offered herself for amicable chatting, Misaki felt nothing more than tired, hungry, and alone.

However, Asahina had been very wrong about one thing. Misaki had no idea why he was here. He understood when his father died he left him and his brother with a daunting amount of gambling debts with impatient loaners who were growing anxious for their profits that were already years late. He also understood that his brother, who worked menial jobs around the town, was running out of money, ideas, and time.

But he wasn't expecting to be hauled away by a strange woman in the middle of the night, taken, what he believed to be, hundreds of miles away from his fishing town that sat nestled between the coast and the hills to a city that stunk of pollution and glowed in the dark, like the eyes of a beast. He hadn't a clue where they were headed.

"Kyoto," Aikawa had said on the train, when Misaki finally gathered the nerve to ask. "You're going to a special house in Kyoto for boys just like you."

Misaki didn't want to imagine what boys were just like him – so he didn't ask much more and opted for staring out the window ruefully, wondering why Takahiro would do such a thing to him, without any warning.

He didn't complain though. He knew that despite the suddenness of his situation, he must make sacrifices for his family and this apparently was one of them. It was his personal rule: never be a bother to anyone. That was why he followed Aikawa obediently, listened to her seemingly endless jabber, and never tried to escape. Eventually, he found that he rather liked the woman and decided if he could meet someone so generous, things couldn't possibly be very bad.

The second question he asked, while they had stopped to eat, was: "Will I be working there?"

Aikawa glanced at him and said, "Of course; though depending on how much the owners like you, they'll give you more or less opportunities. You want them to like you."

Misaki nodded, though it was rather obvious that the better liked you were, the more you'd be provided—still, he was desperate to get any information for his success, knowing that he could send all of his profits back home to his brother, at least to keep him afloat long enough to pay their debts in full.

"What's the best job?" he asked.

"Hmmm…well, it'd be difficult for me to explain, but let me put it this way: you'll be very wealthy someday if you're a good boy now."

That was enough incentive to keep Misaki's questions and loneliness at bay.

However, at exactly the same time Asahina and Isaka had stormed back into the office, discussing the potential of their latest recruit, Misaki was still staring up at the staircase, an overwhelming sense of hopelessness taking over him.

They didn't like him.

Aikawa must have sensed his distress. Her hand was placed on his shoulder and her voice soothed, "I told you Isaka-san is a fool. So moody." When this didn't seem to placate the boy she added, matter-of-factly, "In the morning, once he gets a good look at you, he'll beg that you live with him."

Misaki went to sleep in a fit that night, wondering how he could survive, let alone make enough money to help his brother, when the household owner already despised him. The more he thought, the faster his questions directed toward Takahiro – everything from whether he was glad he sent Misaki away, to if he was going to survive on his own.

I must contact him, he thought, staring at the cracks in the ceiling. But, as he sifted through his options, the prospects of that happening were slim. Misaki had no idea how to work a telephone, he didn't even know if there was even phone lines that reached his town…he could try to send a letter, but that would take months to arrive and then waiting for his brother's response would only be longer.

Things seemed hopeless and although he knew he never left his country, he felt as if he were an ocean away from home.

That next morning, once Aikawa had bathed and dressed Misaki in the servant's quarters, she led him down to the courtyard. It had a mossy look, with lush green bushes and small trees that lined the outside of the little pond. The upcoming winter had already taken its toll on the trees – leaves were floating languidly round pool, creating a competition between them and the pair of turtles who were perched on their stones, staring ruefully at the crowded water.

It was a cool morning. The sky above them was a crisp, clear blue and there were birds twittering loudly as if they'd been up for hours. Aikawa was bringing him down a path that was made of dirt, back to the side staircase that led to the elegant house where the two of them were just last night. In the daylight, Misaki could see that the house itself sat upon foundation stones that stood tall above the little dwelling where he stayed the night. Across from them, on the opposite side of the courtyard, there were four other wooden buildings that were much smaller than the two houses that sat together in a cluster that over looked the pond.

Aikawa, brushed a bit of dust off Misaki's shoulder and said, "Are you ready?" Misaki nodded, though there was a lump in his throat. Was what Aikawa said really true, that Isaka's opinions from last night hadn't really mattered? She had primped him for practically an hour before hand with all kinds of products Misaki had never heard of before, dressed him in a brand new kimono that was more luxurious in cut and fabric than he'd ever seen at home, and gave him her best tips for success – to keep his eyes down, bow deeply, and allow her to do the talking. She glanced at him and smiled, clearly pleased with her work.

Then, Aikawa led him up the long staircase that was located just outside of Isaka's door. "For business purposes," the man once said to Aikawa when she asked. "I wouldn't want potential customers being disillusioned by the mess inside the house." It was clear what he meant, but of course, someone like Misaki would think it was just another eccentricity of the city.

Once at the door, the both of them took deep breaths, one out of fear the other out of pure compassion. Then, Aikawa knocked. "Remember," she said as they waited for a response, "They'll love you."

Hundreds of times since he left home, Misaki had tried to imagine what his brother's purpose was for sending him away. He'd thought about it on the long train ride to Kyoto when Aikawa was sitting beside him, babbling away, and in the rickshaw that brought them from the train station to the house, and all of the previous night. Or perhaps it was more? Surely, he'd asked himself thousands of times where they were going, who he was going to meet, and what he was doing so far from home. But now, in the office of Isaka Ryuuichiiro, every extreme fate he'd come up with – being kidnapped, perhaps sold against his will to a wealthy family, or prostituted – was seemingly normal in the eyes of his new reality.

When Asahina pushed open the door, the room was quiet and it smelled of dust and perhaps, the lingering spices of breakfast. The room was cramped, bookshelves lined the walls all the way to the ceiling, an old acrylic painting that had never managed to make its way to the wall was propped against the side of the desk, a lump of dirty bed sheets sat in the corner, an empty rice bowl on the desk, serving as a paper weight. Misaki soon gave up examining at the lines of crowded books on the shelves. Instead, he felt himself being scrutinized. Sitting at the desk, Isaka was shuffling through a stack of papers, watching Misaki closely. He cringed, anticipating last night's rage.

"Morning, Aikawa-san…and Squirt," Isaka said, though his voice was tight. Misaki felt the tension in his throat loosen— it was clear that although he wasn't entirely welcome, there much more casual tone, and he took the chance to bow in response. "Call for tea, Asahina," Isaka called to the other man, who was busy sliding the door shut. "Otherwise we'll all be asleep in the next ten minutes."

Asahina came around the desk to his partner's side and nodded, before turning round over his shoulder to the back wall where another door led into the house. He shouted, "Shinobu-san! Bring some tea for Ryuuichiiro-sama and our guests!"

"He better come fast," Isaka said, fiddling with a pen. "There's nothing worse than conducting early morning business without a cup of tea…. Of course, we might be waiting here a while – Shinobu-san has the motivation of a dead horse when it comes to his chores."

Aikawa snorted at this. "Well, you two work the poor thing to death," she said, though her voice didn't necessarily hint she actually felt sorry for the other boy.

"He's a wimp, that's his problem," Isaka grunted. "And a spoiled brat."

The three chatted for a short period of time, about people Misaki had never heard of before, before the conversation wound its way back to business, starting with Aikawa.

Misaki swallowed hard, taking a second to peek up at the two men's eyes. Staring back at him, one with stoic intensity, the other with an amused smirk, their meeting began.

Ever since that morning, Isaka was acting petulant as usual when he didn't get his way. Throughout earliest parts of their meeting, Asahina held his eyes closely on Isaka, warning him to be gentle with their guest. And at first, it seemed to be working…then he started noticing that the smirk in his partner's voice was far from genuine, and the laughs weren't in jest, but rather, mocking. Annoyed, he was getting rather fed up with his partner's cruelty. It was one thing to come off as strict. However, it was another to flat out tease the kid.

"This is the new boy," Aikawa said, as if Takahashi were already admitted into the house. Then, she nudged Misaki on the shoulder and for a moment he almost forgot his manners. Quickly, he kneeled down into a dogeza, saying, almost robotically, "Please indulge me with your kindness." Asahina smiled slightly at the action…then he smiled some more when the boy tripped over the fabric of his kimono on the way back up, and stumbled slightly. Flushing, the kid set to wringing his hands again, his face beet red. Clumsy. Cute.

The two men stared intently at the boy, both examining him on their own terms.

Physical traits, in Asahina's opinion, even down to the smallest freckle had the capability to charm a potential client. Instead of pointing out the obvious, like the boy's chestnut brown hair and smooth, barely sun-kissed skin, he noted the details – like the slight bug to the kid's eyes and the chubbiness of his cheeks. His height was important, as well, seeing that most clients wanted a diminutive partner, and the young man was slightly below the average height of a teenage boy his age. Good traits, he thought. He already had four clients in mind who'd be more than interested in him.

Isaka, on the other hand, was looking at the down side of things. Asahina could tell, by that irritated little quirk the man was getting in his brow and the way his lips curved into a smile though his stare was intense.

"Come closer," Isaka suddenly said. "Let's have a good look at you." The boy shuffled over, eyes diverted respectfully, doing his best not to flinch, to straighten his back and look firm and undaunted. Isaka was scrutinized him quickly with a curt up-down before he drew away, still wearing that indescribably cold smirk. No wonder the boy couldn't sit still, he thought. Isaka was goading him with that gimlet eye!

"Well, what can you do for us, kid?" he asked, his voice gaining some of its usual perk.

The boy blinked at him, about to answer, when Aikawa quickly said, "Takahashi-san's family is very poor and he wants to work here to pay off their debts."

"Debts?" Asahina looked up in surprise. "What kind of debts?"

"Gambling debts," Aikawa explained.

"Gambling!" Isaka said, his eyes opening wide in exaggerated shock. "That's a very bad trait to have!"

"Gambling addiction isn't genetic," Asahina pointed out in defense and Isaka gave him a sour look in return. "Takahashi-san, have you ever gambled?"

Again, Aikawa answered for him. "No. He told me he never wastes money."

Asahina then brought his attention to Isaka who was still in doubt. "He has good eyes. Look how nice they are."

Isaka leaned in, scrutinizing the boy, before he pulled away saying, "They're just green." Asahina rolled his eyes. He knew that Isaka wasn't one to notice those kinds of things, even if they were crucial to the business they were running.

Patiently, he replied, "Yes, and that's very rare."

"So?"

"Clients like things that are rare, right," Asahina explained. "They want to feel differentiated." When Isaka didn't seem impressed with the answer, Asahina shifted his approach with a sigh, saying, "We're in the business to make money and I can see this one making money. There's something…charming about him."

"That's what people say about me, and you don't see me hosting," Isaka pointed out swiftly.

"Well that's cause you're just a pain in the ass." Isaka just tutted, annoyed yet refusing to accept that he lost at his own game.

Here Shinobu appeared with the tea.

Isaka, who was still a tad bit pouty, exclaimed, "Well, it's about time!" The young blond ignored the comment, scowling as usual. He wordlessly came into the room and lowering down to his knees to serve Misaki and Aikawa, but as he served the two men at the desk, he kept stealing curious glances from over his shoulder at Misaki.

They were probably the same age, Asahina thought, as he examined both their similar boyish features. Though Misaki had a much more pleasant way about him than the troublesome and somewhat moody Takatsuki boy. Shinobu had a spirit of earth, even down to the way the boy was in a constant state of thought – he wasn't quite certain about Misaki on the other hand, though he there was gentleness about his spirit, a good balance for someone as tense as Shinobu. A nice fit, the two of them.

Taking a large swig from the freshly poured cup, Isaka was suddenly in much better spirits. "Y'know, Shinobu-kun," Isaka warned in a sing-song, "You're supposed to serve the tea to your guests before it starts forming little glaciers in it. Much more of this fancy-free shit, and you'll earn your ass toilet cleaning du-ty!"

The blond this time regarded him, shooting a dark look over his way. Knowing Shinobu all too well, Asahina knew there was a snarky response hot on the youth's tongue, but respect reminded the boy to swallow his words and simply reply, "Yes, Isaka-sama." But as the boy turned away toward the door, he grumbled underneath his breath in a sarcastic echo of the other's tone, "Y'know Isaka-sama, there's this wonderful thing called a radiator, and it even has the magical power to heat your home. Too fucking bad you're too cheap to use it, so we're currently trapped on a polar ice cap."

Asahina snorted at the boy, though quickly composed himself when Isaka gave him a questioning look.

Caught, Asahina coughed loudly, directing the conversation back to business. "Ahem…So, how old are you?" Asahina suddenly asked to the brunet teen. "And this time," he added, directing it to Aikawa, "Let him answer. He seems smart enough to reply for himself."

Shocked, it took Misaki a moment to gather the nerve to say, "I'm seventeen…but I'll be eighteen soon!"

Isaka, considering this, said: "Eighteen…eighteen. Neh, Shinobu-kun, how old are you?"

"Seventeen," he replied curtly.

"And how long have you been living here?" Isaka asked. Asahina knew the man was trying to prove a point here, which was rather annoying…and yet, he realized that this was the perfect preliminary for his own plan.

Shinobu on the other hand, had no clue what was going on and was seemingly annoyed with being questioned on such a frivolous topic. He narrowed his eyes and replied, "Four years."

Isaka looked at Asahina triumphantly. "Exactly. Four years and you aren't debuting until next year," he added as a reminder—though he was more certain it was directed toward him rather than the Takatsuki boy.

"I see what you are saying, Ryuuichiiro-sama, but," Asahina started, "Shinobu-kun is not starting his training until next month. He has been working here purely as a hand around the house, meaning he's just as green as Takahashi-kun in the matters of hosting. I can feel the earth in both these boys' spirits, they'll be great friends."

"Yeah, but what about the whole half-year of training Takahashi-kun is going to miss because he's much older? He won't be ready in time for his next birthday," Isaka smirked, clearly thinking he had Asahina beat. But the other man was stalwart both physically and mentally and had already formulated a response.

"Wait. Name the months you were born," Asahina suddenly demanded to the two young boys.

"February," Shinobu said.

"November," Misaki said.

And there they had it. There were only three months apart in age, which suddenly made Isaka's argument futile.

Still perturbed by it all, Shinobu suddenly remarked, "Wait…who is this guy and why does he care how old I am?"

The two men had a silent argument, before Asahina pulled his attention back to the pair of boys (and Aikawa) who looking at him expectantly. Rather then explain things – he figured Shinobu was a smart boy and formulate the technical details for himself – he simply replied, "Meet Takahashi-kun. He's your new roommate."

Author's Note:

Thank you so much for spending your time and reading. Once again, please review. If I don't get reviews, I won't write chapters. I get discouraged easily, especially if my audience doesn't indicate their interest. I like to know what you all are thinking! Until next time~