Disclaimer- I don't own Negima.
I'm sorry for the super long delay, but I lost my flash drive, which had a half-finished Wild West chapter, and then the Alcatraz chapter I was writing tanked, so this took forever. Sorry!
I'll be honest, this isn't my favorite chapter. Also, if you don't like gay people, don't read this. In my opinion, this isn't pointless yaoi, I'm just writing Albireo the way I view him- willing to have sex with anyone he really likes.
This chapter mentions the Shinsengumi, a police force in Japan in the 1860s. A recap is pretty important if you want this chapter to make any sense. Okita Souji was the captain of the 1st Unit, and he was the best swordsman. He died of tuberculosis at age 26. The Shinsengumi is most well known for its raid at the Ikedaya Inn, where they prevented the Choshu clan from burning down Kyoto, which in my opinion is a very good thing. I don't care whose side you're on politically, burning down a city is bad. A youkai is the Japanese word for a demon.
EDIT: Hated the original for this chapter, so I edited it to make it bearable. It's better now, trust me.
P.S. Has anyone seen the new Negima Final? I feel like I got gyped of Albireo time...
Anyway, I hope you like it. Enjoy!
"Story, story, story, story!" chanted Konoka. "Tell us a story!"
"What did you think I was going to do?" replied Al.
"I dunno. Tell us a story?"
Chisame slid into a seat next to Al. "I have to agree with her. Tell us something good."
"I have one prepared," smirked Al. "It takes place in Japan, which should interest you. Back in the last years of isolationism, there was a pro-shogunate faction of warriors opposed to the West called the Shinsengumi. You've probably heard of them in history class..."
The three girls leaned in close for maximum effect, already engrossed in the story...
Albireo stood stiffly, his back straight and proper under the elaborate kimono he wore. He let a small smile grace his heavily made-up face and felt white powder crack. Landing a job at Shimabara had been extraordinarily unusual for him and the rest of Japan, as he was one of the few taikomochi, a male geisha, alive. He was also the only geisha at Shimabara, as most men came seeking prostitution and not entertainment.
"Albireo?"
He perked his head up slightly. He rarely gave his real name to people, but to the geisha it would've felt wrong otherwise. Not only was he a rare male geisha, he was the only Caucasian geisha. It had been an unexpected turn of events for him to be chosen for this job, but he had fully embraced it. Anything new was welcome to him.
"There's a man who wants to see a geisha."
"Hmm. What's he like?" His voice, usually a deep baritone, was lighter and higher than usual. He looked and sounded, to all appearances, like a woman.
"Handsome. A samurai."
"Choshu or Shinsengumi?"
"Shinsengumi."
"I suppose I'll see him."
Albireo, whose kimono was stiff and unwelcome to movement, waited for his visitor in a small room adjacent to the main room. He wasn't kept waiting, and his visitor entered the room, bowing as he entered.
The man was slight, shorter than Albireo, with dark hair tied back. He was dressed in the traditional Shinsengumi wear, a blue coat with a ragged white edge. He had two swords visible over his hakama, and wore a small smile the way Albireo would.
"Greetings, Al-sama," said the stranger evenly. "I was directed here by the mistress of this house."
"Greetings, replied Al. "You requested a geisha?"
"I asked to meet the geisha of this house, as I heard she was very unusual. You are very beautiful, but I do not see what's so strange about you."
Al smirked. "Thank you for the compliment. However, I am not the woman you seem to think me."
"Oh, really?" asked the Shinsensumi soldier.
"No. You see, I'm here to entertain women and men of a certain...leaning."
The man's eyebrows rose. "Are you saying that you're a man?"
"That is what I'm saying, yes."
"I'm not sure I quite believe you," said the man, laughing. "My name is Okita Souji. You're Al-sama?"
"Albireo," corrected Al. "Albireo Imma...sama, if you must."
"That's quite an unusual name."
"Did I forget to mention? I'm also a foreigner." Albireo waited for Okita's reaction. His hand edged toward his sword slightly, but he otherwise did not move.
"A foreigner? Really?"
"Yes. I'm very selfish, though. I'm all for isolationism, as long as I can still stay here."
Okita laughed again. "I understand now. You're very strange."
"I never denied it."
Albireo watched Okita curiously. "What would you have me do? Would you like a dance?"
"A dance...I'm not sure I'm in the mood." Okita approached Al quickly and hovered over Al, whose whimsical expression did not change.
"Tread carefully," said Al lightly. "A geisha is not always a prostitute. I will not take your money for sex."
"I did not pay to see you. I tried, but the woman who directed me here said that if you liked me, it wouldn't be necessary." replied Okita.
"Correct. I don't charge anyone I'm attracted to." smirked Al. With that straightforward line, Okita couldn't help himself and kissed Al on the lips.
"Just making sure you're a man." explained Okita, winking.
Al's smile lingered. "There's no need for you to do that if you want to check."
They shared a long look. Albireo knew he rivaled the most beautiful women in Japan when he wore this kimono and make-up, and he wondered what Okita would do.
Okita brought his hand around Al's neck, pressing his calloused fingers against his smooth, delicate neck. Al kissed him back, and Okita knew that he was being roped into something he wasn't necessarily prepared to deal with. But with Albireo's warm lips on his, he didn't really care.
When he woke up the next morning, Al felt the tingle that could only mean one thing- he was sick. He closed his eyes to concentrate and identify the source within him and found it- the very, very earliest stages of tuberculosis. He felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. While his body would fight it off with the impeccable perfection of a man who could not die (most accurately, one who could not stay dead), Okita wasn't so lucky. Al must've contracted it from him the night before. A deep sadness settled itself in his stomach. Not only was death, not matter how many times he had experienced it, sad, but he had rather liked Okita.
Okita was still there, and was awake, lying next to him. He smiled when he saw that Al was awake.
"Breakfast is outside the door."
Al rose gracefully, using the blanket to over himself as he reached for the food. His hair, while mussed, draped around him, and he would be lying if he said it didn't make him more attractive. His pale skin shone with long-dried sweat, and his eyes held the secrets of their actions the night before.
"Are you really a foreigner?" asked Okita, sipping tea and gorging himself on rice. "You speak perfect Japanese."
Al smiled at him with heavy-lidded eyes. "When I was human, I was born in Gallia."
"Gallia? When you were human?" Al loved the Japanese because they were so willing to accept that a man might not be all he seems and wouldn't burn him at the stake for that.
"Ah...I'm old. France."
"I'm waiting for the explanation about the human bit." said Okita, pulling a yukata over himself, hiding his lean body hard with muscles.
"Would you believe me if I said I was a youkai?" smirked Al, currently laying on his side, his head propped up by his slender hand.
Okita kissed him, examining him as he did so, his eyes searching his face for something unbeknownst to Al. "I think I would."
"Okita-san..."
"Call me Okita."
"Okita, I think you need to see a doctor."
Okita's expression became guarded. "Do you...have something? Is there something you should've told me?"
"This isn't about me, but you. You feel sick sometimes, don't you?"
Okita pursed his lips. "I don't have time to feel sick. If you haven't noticed, we're fighting a revolution."
"A revolution that you'd apparently rather not see the end of?" smirked Al.
Okita sighed. "Maybe I'll get check out. I think it's just fatigue...how did you know?"
"A youkai knows many things." chuckled Al.
And as their eyes met one last time, Okita knew that he would not forget the foreign youkai with the eyes of a human.
"How romantic..." sighed Konoka.
"Wait, you were on the shogun's side?" asked Chisame.
"Not at all. I lied to him. I thought Japan needed to embrace the Western world if it wanted to survive. In the end, it did."
"That's so mean!" pouted Konoka, who still had a little smile on her face that appeared whenever someone accounted tales of their sexual endeavors.
"I think Okita knew that," continued Al. "He just wanted a good...hmm..." He wasn't really sure how to put in in appropriate terms for junior high students. "...friend for the night."
"Did you ever meet him again?" asked Asuna.
"Once more, on his deathbed."
"What'd you do then?"
Al thought back. Okita, who'd stopped having sex in fear of giving tuberculosous to anyone, had been very sexually frustrated. He had spent a few hours just trying to both please Okita and to help ease the suffering as he'd died. Okita had died cracking jokes and in general good humor, his only regret not being able to fight with his men in their last battle. He had been a true warrior to the end.
"Oh, you know...this and that..."
"Have luck trying to get a straight answer out of him..." huffed Chisame.
"Thank you for telling us these stories." said Konoka, bowing slightly. She was by far the nicest and most polite out of the three of them.
"More to come, right?" said Asuna hopefully.
"As long as you're willing to listen." promised Al.
"Good." replied Asuna happily. Chisame grudingly admitted her interest in the stiories, and Konoka shrilly declared her happiness. Then they left, leaving an old man to his memories.
Tell me what you thought! :)