Chapter Two: Hiei
London, England- 2010
First Night
Though sought out would have been stating it too strongly, it was not entirely by chance that he happened upon the place.
Early evening had the pleasure quarter gradually waking, with servants making their way lighting red lanterns that swayed with the vicious wind. The locals were a varied lot; from the expected maikos and geishas with their dyed black hair showing lighter roots, to the stubborn top hat toting traditionalist paupers that refused to let go of their origins, they all bustled from one place to another, strutting importantly and pretending strangers cared about their miserable lives. The weather tried its best to dissuade them from leaving their homes but despite it, people emerged to wander curiously in search of amusement or opportunity. There was music playing from different competing establishments and the smell of food mingled with the stench of the drunks, adding to the depth of atmosphere only realised by people living out their entire years in a single location.
At the very edge of this district, an old man prepared to close his store of second hand books, stacking piles from the display on the street and giving furtive glances to the whorehouse opposite. His wife called to him from inside his shop, ending his decision before he had given serious consideration. The old man hobbled inside, briefly out of view before leading a young girl out as he informed her that they were closing. The girl bowed her head in acceptance then tentatively joined the growing crowd that had gathered to view the first appearance of the night. Her western style leather shoes and cape marked her as upper middleclass. Gloved fingers fiddled anxiously as she tried to keep herself inconspicuous. Although from where he stood, her face was obscured by the bonnet she wore, he could guess she was likely fresh out from finishing school and had no idea what to expect from her wait. If she was from as typical a life as she dressed to be, she should have been pushing to meet prospective husbands, not looking to see if any available yuujo interested her.
The back of the display box opened, causing the crowd to explode in cheer. As the working women slid to their seats, the men on the streets grew even louder, whistles and obscene suggestions shouted at the silent entertainers. One lit her kiseru, blowing tobacco smoke into the faces of the men from between the wooden bars. She smiled impishly at the coughing men, but the smile was soon gone at their lack of outrage and renewed calls.
"Kurama!" the girl suddenly cried, latching on to the lacquered frame as she ignored the stares from around her.
There was only one brightly haired entertainer sitting in the display, and it was her that replied to the one so out of place. "Miss Maya," she acknowledged, sounding both exasperated and resigned, "you should not be here when it is getting so dark. Have you a carriage to take you home? Perhaps you could come inside to call your family. I'm sure they are worried."
"But I have money," the young girl said, proving her innocence and idiocy by announcing it in front of the unsavoury audience.
"Which you will not be spending here. Please be sensible miss, this is no place for you."
The girl frowned, stamped her foot, and then tossed her head as she turned to enter the building.
Hiei, until then playing the unseen observer, quickly moved to catch the shutting door and followed the stomping teenager inside.
He ignored the kneeling woman that came to welcome him in, and stepped up onto the raised floor and followed the voice of the girl through the corridor. He stopped, took a moment to take in his surroundings. The interior was more lavish than suggested from outside- a sophisticated merging of Far East meets west, spacious, the recently waxed oak boards reflecting the modern brass lights. Every surface that could possibly be polished was gleaming. Not a speck of dust. The exotic houseplants set by every door grew tall and luscious. The temperature was set comfortably warm, and the air had a subtle scent of perfume.
He resumed his walk at a more leisurely pace, locating the hum of youki with less difficulty than on the streets.
"But I can pay! Take it!" the girl's cry became louder.
"Be reasonable," another voice pleaded. He recognised it as the red haired Kurama. The conversation that followed was murmured in her ear, probably meaning to distract the young human. When he arrived to the scene, the Maya girl was back to acting the timid schoolgirl, and was ushered on her way towards a room further inside by an old woman.
Kurama turned, their eyes met.
He felt an involuntary shiver run down his spine and wondered how he could have ever doubted himself. This Kurama had the eyes of what a mob boss could only dream of possessing. It could intimidate, force respect and fear with a single look. Hiei stepped forward, refusing to acknowledge how unnerved he'd felt and only now noticed that Kurama was in fact male. There was no attempt at disguise, but until then he had not seen beyond the elaborately styled hair and the kimono of a high class whore.
The moment passed. Hiei relaxed and Kurama's face formed into the guise of a harmless human.
Taking time in facing him, Kurama gave a bland, impersonal smile before bowing smoothly. "Welcome, sir. Would I be wrong in presuming this is your first visit to our humble home?"
The old woman was back. "If you would follow me to the waiting room sir, we can explain the way things are done here."
That was the last he saw of him that night. After a delicately phrased explanation that recommendations from three current members, proof of regular high income of a respectable profession (no politicians), background (no nouveau riche, criminals, or Christians) and health check was needed in order to even be considered being added to their exclusive client list, he found himself outside.
The drunks and paupers were still making noise being entertained by women who did nothing but sit.
He left, planning how he would get his meeting with the demon. Forged identity was no challenge at all. What concerned him was that the redhead's face was vaguely familiar. If there was a chance of them having already met, it was better to be prepared and know of whom he faced.
. . .
Second Night
When he finally managed to make an appointment, he was disappointed to find that it was two ordinary humans that were assigned to his room. One played the koto as the other poured his drinks. They were pretty enough, but that was irrelevant. The banquet before him remained untouched.
"I asked for Kurama."
The two girls glanced at each other in silent conference. The one with the instrument spoke, "Kurama-han is very sought after. He will be arriving after he has made himself suitable for your presence, sir."
Meaning he was still with his previous client.
"Tell me about him while we wait."
Again, the two eyed each other. This time, it was the sake girl who spoke, "Kurama-han was favoured by the previous Oiran and learned directly from her. If he had so wished, he could have easily been her successor. He is the only male among us, and was first employed as a servant."
The koto girl looked sharply to the other in warning. She gave a tiny shake of her head, and the other gave a single nod in understanding. They were terrified of him, though they masked it well.
He felt youki steadily approaching and wondered if they felt it too. It was not unheard of for humans to become sensitive when in constant contact with demonic energy.
"Would you care for more?" the sake girl asked as she was obligated to do.
Just as he was about to reply, a gentle voice announced its presence from behind the shoji screen. "Kurama has arrived."
The paper door slid open to reveal the man sitting neatly in the traditional seiza position, with knees together, hands in front and ankles tucked underneath. His head was bowed to the floor, waiting.
For several seconds, no one moved. The two girls looked to him expectantly.
"Come in," Hiei said, wondering at the extent of stupidity in human customs.
Instead of standing, Kurama slid inside in one graceful movement without changing the position of his legs. An irritated expression passed momentarily before he masked it with a bland smile.
He dismissed the two humans with a glance. They quickly made their exit, careful not to turn their backs.
Kurama watched them leave, and then bowed again. "Thank you for your request, sir." He straightened, pleasant expression still fixed on his face. "Would you care for a game of shogi?"
Hiei shrugged. He knew the rules, but never had the occasion to play. He wanted to know where this was leading to. As he watched Kurama prepare the board, he noticed the quality of kimono the paramour wore. He was a thief- he could see treasure when he saw one, and although this kimono was less vibrantly coloured (probably to hint at his masculinity), it easily had an additional three digits to its price from the things the two humans from before were made to wear.
"Why have they named you Kurama?" he asked in Japanese.
"They?" Kurama said, switching effortlessly into the language. "Yes, the origin of my naming did not come from one source." The demon openly scrutinised him, waiting for a reaction. Lashes lowering he continued, "I named myself Kurama when I arrived here."
He spoke in a fluent Kyoto dialect, which mildly impressed Hiei for its detail in mimicking the ways of the home country, until he noticed it wasn't the flowery imitation of court utilized by the entertainers, but the formal style of true nobility. Wherever Kurama had learned the language from was not here, and not merely so he could amuse his patrons.
He thought on the contradictions of the two claims and came to the conclusion that if both were true, there had been a point in time when the 'Kurama' persona was lost, and that upon picking this profession, Kurama had willingly reused his old name. This implied he was not in hiding but if he was not, the question arose of why he would choose such a degrading way of living. Everything else about him seemed to fit his guess.
He spoke carefully, "I heard of a youko, a silver fox, going by that name."
Kurama seemed not to have heard him. He stared at his game and gently moved his piece. Still keeping the same position, he spoke as though in a trance, "I wonder, we are the product of our environment and our genes, but surely there must be more to us- how much can we consciously shape who we are? Are we truly only at the whims of external forces?"
"I am not here to discuss philosophy." He took his piece and placed it down.
The voice suddenly lost its breathy inflection, became sharper and an octave lower. For the first time, he heard Kurama's natural voice. "To business? Then I will ask- is there a reason we are speaking in this language?"
They did not allow his sword, but it did not mean he was defenceless. He shifted in his seat to better prepare him for a possible fight. "Ten or so years ago, I was hired to poison a woman by the name of Minamino Shiori. She had a son. He would look around your age."
There was a shocked silence, broken a second later by brittle laughter. "You won't allow me any secrets. So what now? Threats will do you no good."
He shrugged. "What I do next depends on you."
Kurama looked him over. "What I will do for tonight, is my job." He placed one hand on his obi. As was styled by the people of his profession, it was tied at the front in a simple yet flamboyant knot. For easy access.
"Then I won't stop you," Hiei replied, and stood to leave. He felt himself pause despite himself, just as he was about to reach the door.
"If you intend on ever returning here, I advise you to pay your fee before leaving." He let a beat go before adding, "Forbidden Child." Kurama was looking at him over one shoulder, expression better suited to a coquettish flirtation than the barely veiled confrontation they had gone through mere moments ago.
"You knew," Hiei said tonelessly.
"Of course."
He withdrew several notes, and dropped it on the floor without counting them. He left, not looking back.
. . .
A/N:
Okay, so every fandom has their band!au, highschool!au, and vampire!au. Much like its sister genre slave!au, whore!au seems secondary in popularity but I thought I might as well do a brief search anyway to see if I'm stepping on anyone's toes. I admit my search was half-hearted, so I apologise if this has in fact already been done to death. Hopefully, by adding the dominant Japanese culture-desu-desu in omg fantasy London1!11!, I've set this one uniquely enough that it isn't too much of a problem. Kurama won't be working there for long, anyway.
Vocab List In Case You Care
Maiko- A geisha in training.
Yuujo- a woman of the night
Kiseru- A thin, long, elegant tobacco pipe
Koto- traditional string instrument
(Kurama)-han- san in dialect
Oiran- High class courtesans of Yoshiwara. In this 'verses setting, also the title given to the most highly ranked and popular courtesan of her house regardless of location. Has certain privileges and respect that others don't.
Shoji- Sliding paper screens dividing tatami rooms
Seiza- A formal, traditional way of sitting. Used in such practices as tea ceremonies, martial arts, and calligraphy, to name just a few.
Shogi- A board game, often likened to chess
Obi- kimono sash
My, that was a long list. I'm not being meticulous with accuracy, so don't you take this fic too seriously, yo.
. . .
Next episode- Hiei Continued: Third Night, and First Day
"What have you planned, world domination?"