Summary: Explores the source of Taka's charisma & how it shows up during his encounters with Bansai, Shouyou, Itou, Nizou, Henpeita, Matako, Katsura, Katsura's dad, all in one night.
Ages:

[Child] Matako(11), Bansai(12)

[Teen] Takasugi(13), Katsura(14), Itou & Hijikata(17)

[Adult] Nizou(24), Henpeita(34), Shouyou(28)

Age of Consent in Japan: Fourteen Years Old

Bakufu: The Tokugawa Government. Most Joi ( including Takasugi ) were pro-Bakufu until Shouyou-sensei and other political reformers got purged. The Bakufu remained the most powerful force in Japan (80,000 men) but unexpectedly imploded after it was challenged by the small but influential Kiheitai militia (init. 300 men!)

Bakemono: monsters; lit. "transforming things," supernatural animals and objects that can change their form to suit their needs.

Paid Dates / Enjo-kōsai: Fad among older Japanese people (30-50 yrs old) to bribe high school students (14-18 yrs old) to go out with them.

Shooting Gallery: Taka, Bansai & Itou hang out at an Edo backstreet lined with carnival type shooting galleries. I know air rifles haven't been invented back in the day but the historical alternative is the blowpipe booth. Could be a fun game I guess (like darts) but I didn't want to include it because I think sharing a blowpipe is gross, lol =.=|||)

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Takasugi & Itou

DECAY HEAT CHAPTER 12: PLAYING 2.1

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Even before the Black Ships arrived, a black cloud was already gathering above Edo...

From the rooftops of the Azabu Arts District, of which the Kawakami Shamisen Shoppe was a part of, dozens of huge, garish bakemono kites began disturbing the sky of Edo.

With a wingspan of Three to Four meters, they acted as flying advertisements for printshops, theatres and teahouses that catered to the townsfolk's growing appetite for the grotesque and supernatural, enticing them to visit their shops to see more depictions of a world gone upside down, to vent their resentment against the Bakufu for not fulfilling its duty of controlling the demons; whether they manifested in the forms of local spirits or foreign invaders from beyond their shores.

One such kite was soaring above the square by Azabu Bridge, its paper wings curving slightly away from the bamboo frame, climbing higher and higher even without the need to flap its wings. Like a glass window to another world, it shone transparently with the light of the clear autumn sky. A short distance away whirred more of its kind, their red, yellow or grey panels appearing like a bouquet of pansies dropping from the sky. They were painted with ghosts, monsters, bloody heads and skulls, their patterns shimmering according to the intensity of clouds and light, always transforming, ever-changing.

Whenever a kite was lifted up or pulled downwards, a gorgeous fuzzy blue shadow would shelter those beneath. Molded by a hint of sunlight from the side, even harsh adult faces had a moment of doll-like innocence.

The white kite soared round and round, in a leisurely "o".

Down in the plaza, two children were leading a Rokkaku fighter kite on a string, an old couple was sitting on the bench feeding the ducks and two ronin (one adult and the other a long-haired teen in a basket-hat) strode across the plaza, deep in conversation.

The two moving pairs were headed diagonally past each other, forming an "x".

Since those who often think of each other tend to meet again, it was fate that Katsura-kun turned his head just at the moment that Takasugi-kun was running past.

Their eyes met…

"KATSURA-KUN!" Takasugi-kun yelled, delighted.

"…." Katsura-kun's eyes bore into Takasugi-kun's with a coldness that made him stop smiling at once.

The first flicker of surprise faded into a hard look of determination, as if he had foreseen all this. By then, also by pre-arrangement, his companion separated from him in a split-second and melted anonymously into the background.

"Takasugi-kun." Katsura-kun turned to address his classmate.

"Hey Katsura-kun…" Takasugi-kun said in a hurt tone. "Who is that person? Your fellow student at the poetry club?" The words of the bouncer at the Sakuranya inadvertently floated into consciousness. "Katsura-kun always shows up with that per-, ahem, person. I'm sorry, I've said too much."

"Oh, him?" Katsura-kun pretended to look around. "Just a passerby who asked me for directions to Harajuku Bridge."

Takasugi-kun remained suspicious, "Really?"

"It's Two hours before sunset; you ought to be heading home soon, Takasugi-kun. The streets of Edo become hunting-grounds of the ronin after dark."

"What about you? We can go back together…"

"I'll be spending the night at my parent's house on K. St."

"And where are you going now?"

"The Sakuranya.…I am not taking you." Katsura-kun said bluntly. He was so cold he seemed like a different person. "Take care, Takasugi-kun."

They bowed. Takasugi only half-heartedly, resolve faltering. Although he was used to his rival's cold treatment, it was different this time, he felt ignored by Katsura in favour of "more important things" and that hurt.

On the surface, Katsura-kun was as gracious as usual. He bowed calmly to Bansai, who imitated his farewell flawlessly.

Takasugi-kun watched as Katsura-kun adjusted his basket-hat on his head and left. A cool evening breeze steadily blew from the north bank of the river, molding the robes against the legs of the walking people. More and more of them had now appeared, as Six pm approached they got off from work. Perhaps he should just write off this adventure a defeat and return back to his boarding school? But Katsura's cold eyes had been so hard and rejecting, they were like triggers to a forbidden door in his soul. As if the the black curtain of his consciousness was being blown by an ill wind whispering deadly poison into his ears. "You're a rotten shell of a human…a puny ant…"Takasugi-kun's eyes glazed over and he shivered. It was just like that night by the riverbank all over again, he could smell the pine trees; he wanted to take out a dagger; a cut right over here is what he needed.

Any normal person could have simply shrugged it off, but Takasugi-kun was not a normal person.

"NO! Go away! Stay away from me!" He hugged himself, desperately trying to cling to the ground in front of him, but his cobblestones wouldn't stay still, they were shiny as lead, blue shadows of moving people washed over them in transparent waves. The blue shadows turned black; what he saw were black silhouettes shifting behind the shoji screen in his home. He was a helpless child waiting for the biggest shadow of all to come in and beat the crap out of—

"Takasugi-kun?"

"Takasugi-kun?"

"Ban…sai." His vision, blurred by tears, gradually focused on his companion. It gave him a weird feeling to hear Bansai say his name, nobody ever said his name in that tone.

"Ooof!"

Takasugi suddenly found himself embraced by a bear hug that crushed the air out of him.

"Nicht so sein, machen Sie mir Sorgen," Bansai pleaded sadly, voice so soft and boyish it was like a girl's. ( T/N: Don't be like this, you're making me worried. I think? o.o?)

"Bansai…kun."

"…"

"…"

"Bansai."

Bansai looked happy that his friend had recovered his sanity. He released his "Toy from Tokyo" and gripped his elbow. "Kite kudasai!" ( T/N: Follow me )

Takasugi-kun fell in pace with Bansai, who was craning his neck through the crowd in search of someone. "Hayaku! Hyaku! (T/N: Hurry, now! )" he beckoned to Takasugi, so naturally as if he had grown up in Edo. "Ah~ah!" he exclaimed, tugging on the string to his Rokkaku kite still soaring far overhead. He didn't have time to reel it in and chase after Katsura-kun. Turning his head left and right, he spotted an elderly couple sitting on a bench by the river feeding the ducks, and dashed over.

"ONEGAI! (T/N: Please!)" Bansai shouted, clapping his palms together and plunged into a deep bow. He passed the string to the old woman. "Arigato! (T/N:Thanks!)" The old lady was bewildered at the request, but accepted it. She tied the string firmly to one foot of the bench.

"Hayaku! (T/N:Now!)" he turned to Takasugi-kun who stood hesitating. Then, in a completely natural gesture, he reached out with his right hand and grabbed hold of Takasugi-kun's left.

"Hey!" Takasugi-kun protested, turning red, but he didn't let go. He didn't want to get separated from Bansai either, in more ways than one.

They saw Katsura-kun's blue robe weave across the plaza, travel down the main street for a while, then duck into an alleyway.

"Yamero! (T/N: Stop!)" bad-mouthed Bansai. They both knew that the backstreets of Edo were like a labyrinth, taking the wrong turn could leave you wandering for hours. They rushed to close the gap between Katsura and them, dashing down a narrow gap between the buildings, then turned into a tunnel-like passage only wide enough for one person to pass, before finally bursting out into an open space flooded by sound and color

They were on a street lined by shooting galleries on the west and the back entry of a few kabuki theatres to the east. A profusion of feathery leaves from the climbing wisteria in yellow autumn foliage snaked up and down the buildings and streets on silvery timber supports. Actors still wearing make-up leaned out of the balconies, blowing smoke rings.

"Where is he?"

Nowhere.

Katsura-kun was nowhere to be seen.

The street was echoing loudly with gunshots from the thirty carnivalesque booths. Not loud enough to be painful, in fact the rhythmic reverberations were oddly hypnotic. A blast of wind whistled from the alleyway behind them, bringing with it scraps of rubbish. Takasugi-kun picked up a paper flyer rustling on the cobblestones in front of them.

"AIR RIFLE GAME: Two cents per round. Thirty cents per game…." Takasugi read aloud. "Hmm, what do you think Bansai, feel like shooting a couple of rounds? It'll be fun."

He had decided not to go to the Sakuranya after all. What they did just now, chasing blindly after Katsura-kun really served no particular purpose, but he knew Bansai did it for him, and he was sincerely grateful. Had he not been helped by Bansai, who knew how long his depression might have lasted? But now that he knew the triggers, he was sure he'd be able to resist it next time. He really wanted to repay Bansai, so he thought he'd treat him to some entertainment until nightfall, and then head home himself.

"Right, Bansai?"

Bansai gazed at him with both hands covering his ears.

---+

Meanwhile, at the front entrance of the theatres, two raconteurs sat on their soapboxes, having a chat before their show.

"How's business?"

"Excellent."

"These days, the public's demand for ghost stories is insatiable."

"Yeah, we've been popular all year, but wait until the Eighth Month. Imagine how busy we'd be!"

"Everytime the Bakufu's rep. plunges, our ratings shoot sky high."

"Just look at the titles I've prepared for next season. What do you think?"

"Bakemono Found under Samurai's Futon"

"Bakemono Invades Samurai's Private Chambers"

"What's Really going on when there's an Earthquake? (Ans: Bakemono)"

"Hehe, all we really need is one big word: BAKEMONO, and that'll draw in the crowds like no tomorrow. "See You on the Other Side" know what I mean?"

"I almost feel sorry for the Shogun. Why don't we support him a little? "Shogun Subdues Bakemono." How 'bout it?"

"Heroic Bakufu Wins Victories"?

"Now you're being sarcastic."

"Buck the trend, my friend, that's how you get noticed."

"Silly boys," drawled a lady in white and emerald kimono, jade ornament glistening in her immaculate chignon. She appeared young under the soft creamy light filtering through her paper parasol, but her attitude suggested her real age might be ten, even twenty years older. "You need to put the word "Naked" in there somewhere if you want to attract real men. May I suggest "Dance Revolt of the (Naked) Ghosts", or "Great (Naked) Ghost March" Laughing lowly, almost like a croak, she left…

The raconteurs looked at each other.

"Well, Miss. Thank you for the suggestion, but we need a license for that kind of revue you know…."

"We don't wanna get arrested."

"Oh really…" she turned her face and giggled, twirling her parasol flirtatiously. "I don't have that problem when I head over to Kabuki-cho…"

"K-kabuki-cho?!"

"T-to do what?!"

"Oh, knock it off, you know that I know that you know…"

Kabuki-cho is the meat market of Edo.

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(Itou's Diary/ Seventh Day, Seventh Month, Autumn, "1853")

-

Dear Diary,

-

Nobody understands me…

Even if I exposed the real me to others, they wouldn't understand.

Go ahead, laugh if you want …

That's why I said nobody understands me.

I'm not alive because I enjoy being here, you know, I'm really forcing myself to stay alive…waiting for the moment I can finally break the curse.

When you're under a family curse suicide is not an option. If you chose the easy way out, the curse either passes through your relatives for another 18 generations or you simply get reborn into another family with the same problems. Either way, you repeat it until you learn it, much like repeating a grade in school.

Most samurai would try to end a problem with the sword. They think it's that simple, don't they? Hijikata for one. And everyone applauds him for it. I'm envious.

Unfortunately, I am not like most samurai, I'm a genius. I like to figure things out. I want to get to the Truth at the bottom of it all. I want to end my family curse, not just kill… her.

But meanwhile, the hopeless feeling only grows stronger. The older I get, the deeper the fear. Since I turned Fourteen, which is the legal age in Edo, I discovered a new distraction that could ease my mind…

Paid dating.

We go drinking together or… more, and they buy me gifts. Since I'm a genius, I like older wo/men, they seem to be smarter. Unfortunately I have yet to meet a date – youth or adult – who can actually understand me...but what the hell did I expect?

What's more, because of my status an elite member of the Bakufu Military College. I'm not supposed to be indulging in human relationships. It gets quite hard to keep it all inside. I admit that my emotions affect my schoolwork. Everyone thinks I'm a genius but I don't even study. I hardly try. What's the point? While I am staring at my books, I am thinking of telling people about my secret life. Someone, anyone. The closest choice I have for a confidant is in fact Hijikata, he's the only smart person at the College, but he's humiliated me so much.

I'll never forget the humiliation I felt on that day…

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(Itou's Flashback. AU Note: Itou and Hijikata attend college together XD )

Itou was Sixteen, an unsigned note had arrived for him.

"Come to the office, Itou-kun, there's a message for you." A student said.

"Who is it from?"

"Your mother."

Itou's heart gave a thump. He gulped.

"No,no! I was just joking. I don't know. It got delivered by a messenger boy from a teahouse."

"Which teahouse?"

"Sakuranya."

The Sakuranya? Itou has never been there.

When he arrived at the lounge, Hijikata-kun and his crew were gathered around a low table, drinking tea. Everyone looked flushed and spoke excitedly in low tones. Hijikata-kun was fanning out a stack of papers teasingly under a student's nose, but he hid them away as soon as Itou-kun walked across the floorboards to the receptionist's desk.

Itou-kun unfolded the note, made of fancy hand-made paper.

-

"Meet me at the Sakuranya. Yours truly, *smooch!*"

-

Smooch?! It was a spot of deep crimson lipstick absorbed into the paper. Itou knew who it was, one of his paid dates. So it wasn't a love note. Nevertheless it was the first time he had gotten a note of this kind and that made him lower his head and blush faintly.

"Hey what's up with Itou-kun?"

"He's all red."

"Did you get a love note? Let me see!"

While his crew all stood up and surrounded Itou, Hijikata-kun merely raised an eyebrow and smirked. At Sixteen, he was already famous among the ladies in Edo and rumored to receive an endless stream of love letters, even from ladies he'd never met.

"Hijikata-kun! Itou-kun got a love note!"

Hijikata-kun just chuckled in a casual manner, as if he were a mature adult. However, everyone knew that Hijikata-kun never replied to a single one of the letters out of shyness.

"No, it wasn't a love note." Itou corrected calmly. "Merely a client making an appointment for my professional services."

"P-pro-professional?" stammered a junior. Everyone felt a pang of jealousy. In the highly competitive environment of the College, Itou was envied for having achieved recognition as a sought after consultant, even though he hadn't even graduated. Classmates granted him the title of "Itou-sensei" as a mark of grudging respect.

"What? For work?"

"You're missing out, Itou-sensei."

"Don't waste your youth, look at Hijikata-kun…OI! Show him your letters, Hijikata-kun! The ones you were showing to us."

"No!~ hey don't-!" Several guys held Hijikata's arms while another reached inside the sleeve of his kimono.

During the scuffle, the ribbon holding the letters together got untied. A cascade of letters sifted out of Hijikata's sleeve like sand pouring out of a collapsing molehill. They must have numbered more than a hundred. A mysterious alluring scent mushroomed into the air, reaching the spot where Itou-kun stood fixated.

"Knock it off!~" Hijikata-kun shouted almost angrily, face reddening furiously. He stood up and spat out in his gruffest voice, although he way he lowered his head to hide his embarrassment made him a lot less scary. "What the hell do you think you're doing?! You guys are pathetic! If you love these letters so much, you can have them! Read it, keep it, share it! I don't care! Do as you wish." With that he stalked off without a second look.

Itou-kun was also gone in a second.

He slammed the sliding door to his single room, locked it, then opened the shoji that opened to the veranda. But he did not go out, instead he turned his back to the other, unopened leaf of the door and sat facing the interior of his tiny room. A gorgeous green light shining from the brilliant moss-covered courtyard filtered into his room, creating a shimmering bubble of light where he was sitting, but leaving the other corners of the room dark. He felt like a genius in a bottle. "Why is life so unfair to me?" he thought. "I'm not inferior to Hijikata in any way- looks, skills, bravery and of course when it comes to intelligence, I am way smarter. So shouldn't I have an equal amount of good things in life, if not more so? But why does it always turn out this way? How come I have to work so hard for every scrap of recognition I get while Hijikata is loved just as he is?!"

Life's a bitch.

Why was I even born?

Kamotarou Itou was the second son. The inferior one. His older brother Takehisa was weaker, uglier, dumber, stupider and a runt in every way, a sickly child who spent most of his time miserably passed out upon his sickbed, but he was loved. He was loved so much he took the sun away and Itou was left with the clouds.

Mother was like the sun in their home. Itou needs her. Father was like a diagram in a textbook. Itou doesn't need him. Literally. Itou's father was also a famous scholar. Itou can find him inside his books, so he doesn't need him. But Itou needed his mother. He was Ten years old when she started leaving home for weeks at a time, supposedly to take Takehisa to the healing spas in the countryside. But it wasn't that simple, Itou knew that his parents were fighting. Every time she was gone, he was afraid she would never return. So he tried to keep her happy. He got the best grades of any student. He paid the price of being bullied for it but he never told her. When he fell ill and she never visited him, he made up an excuse for her. But all the signs were there: Itou's mother could care less about him. And finally she confessed.

"I can't stand Itou, he's so healthy while poor Takehisa suffers so much. It's as if Itou has taken all the happiness of his older brother when he was born. Oh I wish…he'd never been born."

What a bitch.

She hates me, I love her;

How should I feel?

Itou became a prodigy far advanced for his age, more adult than most adults, hiding his true feelings away somewhere that nobody could ever understand. He was smart, self-sufficient, self-operation, self-motivated and completely selfish, now he's already Sixteen years old. Is it too late for him to change?

He continues to hate Hijikata like he hates his older brother.

He continues to go on paid dates, meeting and dumping the women he loves but can't trust, like his mother.

So the family curse continues, day by day…

---+

Until one summer when Itou was Eighteen, it was broken for one day.

A big sunflower was delivered by an anonymous messenger to Itou's residence. Who was it from? Nobody knows. Why did he get it? No reason. But it was undoubtedly for him.

The handwriting was childish.

Could it be from you, Takasugi?

He floated for the rest of the day. He couldn't help it. From out of the blue, out of his conscious control…

Itou had fallen in love.

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But we're getting ahead of the story. At this point in time, Itou is Seventeen, he is a cadet in the elite Bakufu Military College, and after his lecture he walks out of the College on the outskirts of Edo and heads downtown to Kabuki-cho, the red light district of Edo.

Walk down the crowded avenue, and every few steps will take you past a theatre, an underground performance venue, or simply an open-air stage. Nestled between the theatres are restaurants, cafes and dessert parlors. On the upper floors of the merchant rowhouses are rooms for mahjong, massage and uh…more. And it's well known that most of the Yakuza gangs have opened their Edo branch offices on this street. The network of avenues, willow lined plazas, and dark little alleyways are dirty, sleazy and smelly, but it's always thronged, day or night. As if electrified by the scent of flesh, a current of human traffic flows endlessly. The Japanese dub it the "water trade". Itou calls it Baishun, or selling "spring".Because underneath it all, adults head to Kabuki-cho for one reason…young people.

And that's where young Itou Kamotarou, Seventeen years old, heads for his paid dates.

His rendez-vous spot is a couple of blocks west of Kabuki-cho proper. He prefers to wait at the shooting galleries behind the Azabu Theatres, where he will amuse himself by shooting a few rounds before his sugar mommy picks him up at Six pm.

This evening though, as he puts his change on the gun counter and picks up an air rifle, he spots two unfamiliar faces in the same booth, children making an annoying racket as if they were complete amateurs. Unbeknownst to him, this was the first sign that his family curse was about to break.

To be continued…

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A/N: Hi! What's up? Reviews are important to me and for the past Two chps I've only gotten One review ( from Bella92 :3 ) What did I do wrong? *wehh!*

But since this is the 12th Chp, I figure you're probably not the casual reader and you probably support this fic, right? *fingers crossed* So if you've read thus far, I hope you'd take the time to leave me a note of encouragement. I want to finish this fic before it reaches it's 1 yr b-day. O.o PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks~