Welcome to Tokyo, Japan. January, 1991. The world has entered the technology era, portable phones, home computers, internet, video games. Japan quickly became the epicenter of the latest and greatest. Companies and factories flourished. Where money was, people followed. And while many rose to live a comfortable, happy, and delightful life from this new found money... Others did not. You see, money has this effect on people that can't be outdone. People will do anything for it. And when it starts slipping into the wrong hands, it's impossible to stop. Benethe the day time laborers and the double-shift workers, a seedy underbelly of syndicates exists. Narctics, black market, organized crime, money laundering, you name it and it's been growing as fast as the upper world economy. While many do it just to stay alive, there's those who make it their posh lifestyle. Either way, there's only one question. What would you do if the money was good enough?
JAN 29 2021: Welcome!! ƎLEMENT has been open for two weeks now and we're so happy to see such a bright beginning! If you're new feel free to drop into the discord and say hi before joining.
Oh dear; that utterance of confusion from the stranger’s lips certainly wasn’t a good sign... He clearly did not, in-fact, nail it. He shifted in worry; altering putting his body’s full weight on one foot; then leaning back to do the same with the other. The young man’s body language kept him transparent. He was an open book; his nerves on full display while he tried to puzzle through how to re-phrase his predicament in Japanese... Thankfully, he didn’t have to remain on that particular line of thinking for long.[break][break]
”Oh you’re lost?”[break][break]
Emile’s oceanic gaze washed back over Milo; distracted from his embarrassment by the introduction of English to the conversation. Oh; thank god... the voice in his head exasperated; deeply grateful for his own mother tongue. “Y-yes! Yes, I’m very lost!” He chirped in English; his hands raising from his stomach to his chest; fingers clasped together nervously. Em wasn’t exactly one who made it a habit to talk to strangers if he didn’t absolutely have to. Hell; that was a big part of why he rarely left his room.[break][break]
This stranger, though... seemed kind. On top of that, there were only a handful of people that he was able to communicate with fluently. It was nice—so nice to finally just be able to talk![break][break]
”I’m sorry I got you lost, do you know what the place you came from is called or what it looks like? I could walk you back there.”[break][break]
The young man shook his head emphatically at the other’s apology; that sweet raven hadn’t really been the reason he was led astray; it was his own absent-minded act that had done that.[break][break]
“No, no! Please, don’t apologize! I just... Your singing was beautiful. I got distracted; it’s not your fault I followed you!” Emile’s voice was a gentle rasp; the type of dream-like voice you would expect to hear from someone who’d just freshly awoken from a deep slumber. He returned that nervous chuckle; his fingers releasing so that one hand could anxiously rub at the back of his neck. [break][break]
“Yeah, I think it’s called—“ Em began, quickly cutting himself off. Shit! You can’t tell him you came from the brothel... He’s probably a local; he’ll know... he could call the police or... god, no. Just, no. Too risky! his thoughts ran a mile a minute; his breath hitching as he squirmed with the unexpected dilemma. He’d stared at that neon sign of the establishment next door for months... He could give him that name![break][break]
No, actually. He couldn’t.[break][break]
How... do you sound-out kanji...?[break][break]
A cold sweat immediately found his skin as he realized he had no way to communicate the name of the building—his sketchbook back in his room. Why hadn’t he brought his backpack with him? He always brought his backpack with him... Oh well, hindsight 20/20 and all that![break][break]
“W-well... the sign on the side looks like...” he started to pantomime the outline of the kanji in the air; his cheeks puffing slowly— repeating the motion in some huffy attempt at communication.[break][break]
“Fuck...” he mumbled—all too quickly realizing the futility of his actions. “Do uh... do you have a paper and pencil, by chance...?” His face a portrait painted entirely in embarrassment.[break][break]
Even with how little he could process; those words rang out in his head as he struggled to find oxygen; his lungs starting to feel the fire of deprivation. It was a sensation he'd become used to once more--but fuck, not with such a very real and immediate threat of death. Terror coursed through his every fiber even as his savior collided with his reaper. His body tumbling to the concrete as he sputtered and coughed; drawing in air as deeply as he could through his tightening lungs; the young man wheezing and whimpering. He could feel the man's grip around his neck long after he was forcibly released.[break][break]
Saved me... Saved me... He... he saved me.... Of the many cycling thoughts that fought for his mind's attention--that one was perhaps the loudest. He wasn't dead. He wasn't dying. That stranger... that stranger... Oh, what--was he--?[break][break]
Emile's gaze slowly rose from the ground; his form violently shaking; the oceans in his eyes more than a little turbulent as those tears continued to pour down his face. He looked up just in time to see the alleyway painted; bringing back memories of that tiled room--his mind tugging at him; trying to force him back overseas. But, no... that was... someone who was hurting him, right? Those stains on the walls were from... a murderer, right? Yeah, he was going to kill him. He was going to kill him if not... If not for that golden-haired man...[break][break]
Yet, still--the scene shook him. A violent storm of gratitude, horror, and... something else; something far, far, darker stirred within him as he committed the gruesome scene to memory. Em's chest heaving; and heart thundering out of control in his chest.[break][break]
He... He's standing... He's okay... He's okay... a sense of relief washing over him at the thought.[break][break]
He watched; a vacant, wide-eyed look on his face as Hikaru stripped his bloodied clothing. The man tidying himself as much as he could before approaching him.[break][break]
"Hey,"[break][break]
His voice was soft and soothing... His smile carrying with it a warmth like gentle sunlight. There was... something terrifying in even that--in that flawless return to a softer disposition after having watched him just... beat a man; potentially to death. Yet... there was comfort in the understanding that he had... done that for him. It was something out of myth; some dark fairy tale that Emile found some haunting respite in. For him. He had done that... for him... His oceans fell to the other's wounds. Hurt... he's hurt... bad... how is he mo--[break][break]
His thoughts of concern were cut short as oceans met sunlight.[break][break]
Gold.[break][break]
His panicked breathing quickened; his pupils that had begun to dilate in the dark returned to pinpricks the moment he saw his eyes. Perhaps he would have been fine seeing them, if not for all that had transpired... Perhaps if that switch from brutality to a smile weren't so naturally instantaneous--he could have stayed there in the alley with him. However; there was a golden-eyed devil who had scorched him with a hellfire that robbed his vision; golden locks turning to silver in his eyes as his breath went from panicked to frozen; simply no longer breathing with the terror that seized him.[break][break]
He couldn't scream or make a sound.[break][break]
"You okay?"[break][break]
He shook his head; not even hearing the question. He trembled and started to simply back away; his battered form barely dragging itself half a foot away before crumbling into some heap; hands covering his face as he lay cowering.[break][break]
It had been an excruciatingly long night; Emile long since adapted to his nocturnal schedule. He had only recently gotten back into the swing of work; needing a few months to fully pack away all of the dark memories lurking in his recent past. He hadn't thought about what he'd do when he arrived wherever he ended up... Hadn't had half a clue he'd ship himself off to Japan of all places; never would've guessed he'd get picked up by some yakuza group and tossed back into the only lifestyle that made any sense to him at that point. [break][break]
But, here he was. Finally clean of every foreign particle on or within him. When he laid down to rest, though... he found that his mind was unwilling to shut down. The aching muscles and gentle burning that caressed his most sensitive pieces always stirred memories of what had sent him on that plan to 'anywhere in the world but here.'[break][break]
He shot out of bed and let out a loud groan of frustration. That meager expression of displeasure already draining him. His chest tight as a pair of golden eyes lingered in the back of his head. No, no, no. I'm not dealing with this now. Not tonight! His hands curling into fists as he stood; quickly white-knuckling himself before he began to rapidly open and close them in succession; some nervous tick that he had never noticed until he arrived in the land of the rising sun; something he'd surely picked up during his time in that damnable room back in the states.[break][break]
Within minutes he was dressed; a simple tie-dyed tunic and harem pants tucked into a pair of worn black combat boots. He couldn't stay in that room; the scent of vanilla and jasmine couldn't cover up the lingering scents of his clients--something he simply couldn't stand while his mind was rebelling against him; threatening to send him back into the past. The boy threw open the window so that it would have a chance to air out. He wasn't staying in that damn cage for another minute.[break][break]
In a rush; he snatched up the backpack that held his sketchbook and some essentials. He tugged his current favorite walkman; a metallic blue CD player that held the design of Hokusai's great wave; and his best headphones to drown out every second of silence with blaring music. The coat he dawned; the one his beloved Sorrel had gifted him their first year of college together; eight years prior.[break][break]
The garment was clearly once beautiful and warm; but after four particularly rough years of use; it had been deteriorated to almost nothing. The wool had been worn down to half its original thickness, the lining completely rotted away, a zipper that had bent teeth; causing the damn thing to stick only part way up his chest. The coat was covered in stains of various forms and littered with holes.[break][break]
His gloves were much the same; a pair of fine black leather that had begun to flake. Holes and tears littering the damn things. Em should have replaced all of these things long ago--but he had to save his income for health-related emergencies. No one had explained to him just yet how the health care in Japan worked; and he was... still under the impression that he would have to hoard every last yen he earned.[break][break]
When he left the brothel; the sun had yet to rise; darkness engulfed the city. Em had made it a questionable habit of wandering the city streets in the youngest hours of morning; when the last of his clients returned to their homes. He found it difficult to rest; and gods, taking a bodyguard with him for a walk? That just... made him feel weak. He should have known better. He should have learned by now that his... geographically-challenged ways hadn't been left back in America.[break][break]
He wandered out into the cold--no matter how the air hurt his skin or his lungs, no matter how he shivered... it tethered him to the here-and-now. It kept his mid in Japan, right where it belonged. The young man taking on the role of a backpacker; simply hopping on a train and going.[break][break]
He stared out the window absentmindedly; various alternative rock bands blaring in his ears--he'd picked up a slew of CDs that he couldn't read the names of. The singer's voice was drenched in emotion; and there were more than a few moments where the songs broke away into yelling--roaring, even. It was the perfect thing to saturate his mind with; those bulky headphones blocking out the rest of the world as he spaced out.[break][break]
For a time, he actually fell asleep slumped against the window. By the time he awoke; he was pulling into a station surrounded by beautiful greenery; a stunning scene even coated in snow. He couldn't make out the name of the stop, nor could he read the signs to determine where he was. No, he simply departed.[break][break]
His azures were as wide as a child stepping into some fairytale land. He had never left Chicago growing up; never seen any of the world; so a place like Asakusa Park? It was something beyond new to him. Every inch of that place felt new, and fresh... There was a wonder in him as he simply let his feet carry him forward. Lil would have loved to see this... He took a moment in the dark; digging through his backpack to obtain his sketchbook; a small pocket in its cover containing a photograph of his belated younger sister.[break][break]
"Isn't it beautiful, Lil...? We're... We're gonna have a better life here..."[break][break]
He assured her quietly; pulling the picture to his chest; holding tightly a ghost that he sincerely wished could be there at his side. He fought back the mist trying to form as he threw the backpack back over his shoulder; he kept the sketchbook in his hand; and his youngest held against his heart. It was an adventure, truly... While the circumstances that brought him here were less than fantastical; there was a whimsy in him that he hadn't felt in years. A magic in this foreign country that he would soon call home.[break][break]
The snow slowly began to sparkle as the new morning sun rose; his heavy footfalls lightened by his sense of adventure; starting to run along the treeline; taking in every sight he possibly could--the peaceful morning air undisrupted by scurrying strangers for a short time.[break][break]
Little did he realize; a scurrying stranger stealing away tranquility was exactly what he'd become. A large staggering of rocks catching his eye--well, more accurately, the form that sat atop them... There weren't all that many bodies accompanying them this time of morning... and gods, that one certainly stuck out. Slowly, he stumbled to a halt just a few feet short of the stranger; his hair was so pretty... a light shade of pumpkin he simply hadn't seen much of in this country.[break][break]
"Wow..." he whispered quietly. His presence clearly distracted the boy on the rocks--as the book in his hands fell to the ground; pages fluttering as it joined the snow beneath the rocks.[break][break]
Wow was right. The stranger wore an irritated expression; his jaw clenched and eyes piercing--but as he turned to face him; he was so perfectly framed in the first morning's light. Bathed in gold; he held an angelic glow. His perch on the highest rock holding him well above Em; looking like a creature that belonged in the skies above. Sapphire eyes halting his breath as his heart froze for just a moment.[break][break]
"He looks... like a painting..." he whispered in his mother tongue; a thought that was--of course, supposed to stay in his head. It takes him a moment to process anything after ocean and sea meet--but soon enough his eyes widen and he gasps "Oh! I'm-- I'm so sorry! I'll get that for you!" An exclamation in English; still not fully used to speaking in Japanese. He quickly scurries to the fallen sketchbook. His eyes alighted as he realized the other was also intent on drawing. Just barely resisting the urge to flip through his works. Instead, he quickly began dusting the snow off of the edges.[break][break]
He was lucky it hadn't taken any water damage. With a warm, apologetic smile--he offered the book back up to his momentary companion. His own sketchbook and sister's photograph now safely cradled in the crook of his arm. The boy had dawned no makeup for this unexpected excursion; a rather nasty burn scar sweeping across his cheek; and around his neck like a noose. His white curls wholly untamed; flecks of snow blending in with them.[break][break]
"Ahh... Sorry, take!" He cooed in Japanese; though his American accent was still... painfully thick.[break][break]
Emile had hung on every lyric; every note, until the second that the stranger’s singing halted. Another soft gasp spilling from his lips as Milo turned to face him; the young man’s fingers nervously fidgeting amongst themselves. He hadn’t been in quite his right mind; following that alluring sound—like some siren’s song beckoning him to come closer. As the music faded out; the city faded back in. [break][break]
He swallowed hard; trying to focus on the pretty face that greeted him. He hadn’t seen the man’s front when he’d begun his pursuit... He was—alarmingly pretty. A face to match that rapturous voice. His cheeks traitorously tinting as he took in the details of that unexpected companion—each visible design that decorated his skin; and the piercings scattered through his form. “Pretty...” he whispered once more, in English. [break][break]
Though; the longer he took him in; the more the city came back into view. The more that young boy fidgeted—his fingers slowly tugging at and white-knuckling the cuff of his jacket. [break][break]
”Are you alright? Need something?” [break][break]
Right. Right; Em... Japanese. You’re in Japan. [break][break]
He shook his head for a moment; taking a deep breath. Fortunately, the foreigner had picked up enough of the language in his last few months to at least understand the question; and the good-natured intent behind it—despite the notes of suspicion in his tone. [break][break]
“Am ok! Not plan Japan...” he began; a horribly thick American accent; his Japanese painfully broken. “Speak... only little. ALWAYS lost.... help?” Each syllable was drawn out slowly; long breaks between his words as he contemplated the proper phrasing—failing rather impressively. None the less; as he finished—a look of pride fell upon his features; his lips curling into a small smile as he beamed up at the beautiful stranger. Nailed it! ...Kind of...! [break][break]
His eyes sparkled; looking like he may have started in on a new thought—though as he took a breath; a rather monstrous growl disrupted the quiet of the air between them. His face quickly tinting; the vibrant scarlet managing to pierce through the layers of makeup coating his face. His hands shooting to cradle his stomach as he averted his gaze. Those oceanic eyes washing over the nearby ground rather than admiring his companion—far too flustered by the noise that had left him. [break][break]
There were a precious few moments where Emile likely could have managed to get away--to shove away that snake of a client; the smaller man about his own size. He could have, had his mind been clear--invisible rope binding his limbs in-place; rendering him immobile. His savior had, however, likely saved his life in more ways than one--getting the larger man away from him before his stomach had taken any damage. Before he could come too; his mind still somewhere in the States; he was being dragged and shoved up against the wall--his body slumping over as though he was already nothing more than a corpse--his body struggling to find some footing while one knee locked and the other attempted to drop to the ground. The younger man grabbing his hair and wrenching his head back to expose his neck. [break][break]
"B-Back the fuck up!"[break][break]
Em's brows furrowed in confusion; not so much as having processed the entrance of ...an ally..?[break][break]
His eyes flickered for a moment; finding himself back in the alley; the man holding a knife to his throat not at all the face he expected to see--though; he began to warp and shift to that demon with the princely smile. The boy squinting and shaking his head as nausea gripped him; a warm trail of scarlet running from where his forehead had made contact with the pavement. The back-and-fourth was distant; sounding as though the men were under water. His sight holding just long enough to make out a warm smile on the blonde's lips. The audio clearing up just in time to hear a reassurance that... seemed to be for him.[break][break]
"Not gonna let anyone else get hurt, okay? We can figure this out."[break][break]
Who... are you...? His vision blurred as he tried to make out the figure; the dark of the alleyway doing nothing to assist him. He didn't have much time to contemplate as the knife in that bastard's hand started to dig into the flesh of his neck. A hiss of pain leaving him before his disoriented, hooded gaze widened.[break][break]
He knew the sting of a blade; far better than anyone ever should; the proof decorating his form beneath layers of makeup. Once more; the Asian man warped to take on the visage of that obsidian-eyed sadist. He couldn't keep it together--he couldn't stay in reality long enough to make out what the hell was going on around him.[break][break]
He flashed between that faraway room and the alleyway; staring like some dead fish--his eyes looking hollow as he watched his hero be ripped through by those who sought to end him. He didn't process the emerging larger figure quickly enough to call out a warning to the blonde; nothing more than some pathetic whimper as he tried to understand what was happening.[break][break]
"W-wait..." Em barely managed to stutter; some weak plea in his voice.[break][break]
Blood. God; there was a lot of blood coming from the two going at each other. His body slammed into the brick not all too far from his own--tears pooling and spilling as Em slowly pieced together what was going on--just how battered the other was getting; and it... it was to help him, wasn't it? His skull meeting brick far too violently--god, was he going to die? Was he--was he going to die trying to help him? He was smiling. Why was he smiling? Why did there have to be so much blood?[break][break]
As the world spun around him; his hair was wrapped up in yet another fist; some pathetic little whimper leaving him even as he was freed from the blade at his throat. The scene was clear now; for a moment reality clung to him far more tightly than his memories--though, that didn't do him much good. Hell; it may have been more of a curse than anything. For the first time; he was close enough to make out the other's features.[break][break]
Gold.[break][break]
As he was violently shaken; his body's full weight falling to his scalp to support--his azures stayed wide; filling with fear. To be treated like some ragdoll while looking into golden eyes... this was too familiar.[break][break]
His savior holding far too many qualities that were reminiscent of one who had pretended to be his guardian angel for a time; only to become a devil that tormented his every waking moment.[break][break]
"You a fuckin' idiot or something?"[break][break]
He winced at the volume of the other's voice--some vague tether to the alleyway that kept his panic to a simple heaving chest and trembling eyes.[break][break]
"Trying to die for a little broken whore?"[break][break]
That phrase all too familiar, just the same.[break][break]
"Well; let me grant your fucking wish!"[break][break]
The larger man, without releasing Emile's hair; resumed what Hikaru had interrupted--now taking the broken little things place beneath his foot. The man sweeping and kicking the vigilante in the side; connecting with that gash he'd left earlier.[break][break]
The little courtesan's eyes came into focus; his mind struggling to stay present--but with those eyes not in his direct line of sight; all he saw was that would-be hero being sent careening to his side; crimson pooling beneath him. He's going to die... That Aijiwau monster pulled back to deliver another swift kick; every intention on bludgeoning the other to death. He's going to die! Tears began to stream from the little courtesan's eye's azures glittering in the neon lights of the city.[break][break]
"STOP IT!" He screamed; his voice breaking with urgency. He didn't have much weight to him--barely any power; but with his captor's balance thrown off mid-kick; Emile's sudden lunging was enough to knock him off of his feet. His invisible binds broken; for just a moment. [break][break]
"What the fu--?!" The larger man roared as he careened to the cement; his grip on Em not yet loosening--but he had found the use of his limbs once more; his trembling hands sweeping and gripping at the dust and gravel below them; any manner of dirt he could scoop up was quickly shoved into and ground into the older man's eyes; some animalistic cry leaving Emile just before he was violently thrown into the wall beside HIkaru.[break][break]
"FUCK! I was going to make this quick... but now I think I'm going to take my sweet fucking time with you. You're going to regret fucking with me." The man's voice a deep growl; though it wavered and cracked for just a moment; trying to rip the gravel from his eyes. His head snapped to look at his companion; snarling at him. "Are you COMPLETELY fucking useless?! This is your goddamn mess to clean up; you're just gonna stand there and fucking watch?!"[break][break]
The smaller man was shaking like a leaf--his voice cracking in some unintelligible affirmation. Scurrying to grab the other's blade from the ground; their attention--seemingly on Emile for the time being.[break][break]
The young courtesan whimpering as the world around him swam. "I'm sorry..." he murmured a weak apology in English; his voice filled with fear and sorrow; the words clearly for Hikaru--not intended for the snarling monster closing in on him. His lips parted; presumably to add to the sentiment; but not so much as a breath made it out as the Larger man's hands wrapped around his slender neck; slowly lifting him from the ground--choking and gurgling the only sounds escaping him as his dirtied fingernails shot to dig into the other man's wrists--desperately trying to pry him off. Kicking uselessly at the other; barely enough force to lift his legs.[break][break]
Emile watched every move carefully; tracked Francis’ every word and Seiko’s every moment of hesitation. The two were all to apt with their little song-and-dance; the performance surely convincing to anyone who had less experience in reading bodies, eyes, and tones of voice. He had to stifle a sigh of relief as Francis made his decision. Instead, he simply greeted Seiko with an open palm and a warm smile. Azures tracking the man as he all-too-quickly bid them farewell. [break][break]
My, my, that certainly didn’t take much debating, did it? [break][break]
He thought to himself; letting his eyes roll slightly once Francis’ back was turned; an angle that would make it difficult for anyone but Seiko to see the gesture. Barely managing to hold back a scoff.[break][break]
If one must perform; they should do so with dignity and respect for their partner.[break][break]
His opinion steadfast; infinitely irritated by the other’s lack of poise. No actor worth their weight should ever breed such a nervous air within their companions. Each glance for approval tallying up in his mind as strikes against the other man.[break][break]
“Thank you Miss Seiko,” he cooed. “I am actually quite the same with Japanese. It’s far easier for me to understand than to speak. So if you’d like, we could really confuse any eaves-droppers by speaking in our natural tongues?” He chuckled as he spoke in French; his countenance shifting slightly. He still held that same playfulness that allowed him to flirt with a taken man for shits and giggles; but he held a more competent air. Seeming perhaps a little less empty-headed.[break][break]
“For when I do speak to you in Japanese; what would you prefer I use as your honorific? I’m still getting used to these things; I didn’t want to be presumptuous and simply call you Seiko.” He posed the question quietly, leading her to the dance floor as he had done with his own companion earlier. In all honesty; he didn’t have much of a plan. He simply wanted to let the woman breathe. To broach such a sensitive subject when he’d barely gotten to share a full conversation with Seiko until now. He hoped to get to know her; whoever she was without such taut strings attached to Francis.
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[attr="class","spaceBody"] about An unstable young courtesan working under the Tsumaru who’s just doing his best to survive; a disposition as wild as the ocean waves themselves. While he’s generally warm and loving, a recent series of traumas have left him particularly unstable and jumpy. He needs patience and gentle handling. He is not a native to Japan, and does not speak the language fluently as-of yet.[break][break]
Points of interest: ❀Loves animals, especially dogs & rodents ❀He has a passion and skill for brewing teas ❀Loves music, has a tendency to become distracted by it ❀Prior professional artist; loves to paint, sketch & just generally creative pursuits ❀Flower language is an important passion to him ❀Constantly getting lost ❀Runs entirely on black tea and anxiety; trying not to fall asleep when not working ❀Wants little more than to make others happy ❀Suspicious of others intentions ❀Uncomfortable fully relying on others ❀Emotional support friend ❀Becomes obsessive over those he’s close to.
[break][break] friends Despite his fear and distrust of others, Emile is depressingly easy to befriend: treat him like a human being and you’ll have an adoring companion.[break][break]
Ideal: ❀Generally kind-hearted people ❀Caregivers ❀People that feed him ❀Extremely protective of young girls that remind him of his late younger sister.[break][break]
Behavior with: ❀Jumpy ❀Physically affectionate (though he may get spooked if he isn’t the one initiating) ❀Childishly playful ❀Protective ❀Adoring ❀Pushy if he thinks something is wrong ❀Paranoid - Flighty if he thinks either party could endanger each other.
[break][break] enemies You're the same as me, aren't you? You can't pull the wool over the same stupid eyes.You don't really care about the shogun's head, right? You just wanted to come here because you got a whiff of the smell of the blood. They're the eyes of a murderer. You can't feel alive unless you're on the battlefield surrounded by death. No matters how many villains you cut down, that thirst is not quenched. You've been looking for someone strong like me, and I've been looking for someone strong like you. Right? So relax. If you're saying that you can only cut down villains.... Then, I'm one hell of a villain. [break][break] romance That's fine with me. There isn't anything I want. There isn't any reason for me to look back. I only see what's ahead. A new battlefield spreading before my eyes...that is what I seek. I strive to become stronger than any other person. I move forward to become stronger than anything. Even if I have nothing left to protect when I get there.
[attr="class","spaceFoot"]Today, again, I tamed the loneliness and held expectations towards this idle life.
As that fearful feeling began to envelop him; his heart pounding far too violently in his chest, the quiet of late-night turning early-morning was slowly pierced. A soft gasp slipping from the young man’s lips as the surrounding city slipped away into watercolors. The streets empty aside for one; a stranger cloaked in blacks; who caught his attention. A voice that filled the emptiness; caressing his fitful mind. Before terror-coated questions had a chance to entangle him; they were replaced by lyrics.[break][break]
I've been singing the same old songs,[break] They remind me of where I belong,[break] Thinking I'm not the guy you used to know[break][break]
The voice was wholly enthralling; something utterly ethereal. His pursuit of food fell away—in favor of pursuit of that man on the street. Like a street rat following the pied piper; the music moved his feet. The young courtesan in a trance as he ghosted behind the other. He was mesmerizing; that dreamlike voice—the countenance of that tone; the emotion within each syllable.[break][break]
It wasn’t long before he was led astray; each step gliding along the concrete path; those neon light drenching the man in a heavenly glow. To Emile, it appeared as though his very existence gifted color to the surroundings in each step. Perhaps it was just the introduction of another songbird to those streets that so enamored him with that presence. Always one who was weak to the allure of unexpected melodies; after a short time—that little dove had hopped and fluttered his way right to that lovely raven’s heels.[break][break]
While his footfalls were near silent; the gentle coo that parted from his lips as he drew closer; certainly wasn’t. [break][break]
“Pretty... so pretty...” [break][break]
A breathy rasp barely above a whisper; he may as well have been hypnotized. The words that left him were in English; not even aware that he had spoken. Wide-eyes, vivid blues that matched the neon lights of that strange city are what would greet the stranger as he turned.[break][break]
The night air was cool and soothing; January had passed and the bitter cold subsided--though even at its very worst, Tokyo's chill could never compare to that of Chicago. The young courtesan had gotten a rare evening off; taking flight from his little cage for once of his own accord. The young man dressed in a few simple layers; a tunic-length sweater to keep him warm; leggings that allowed him comfort and freedom to move, and an old blue duffel coat that had certainly seen better days. If it weren't for his ashen locks; he likely wouldn't have stuck out all that much on the streets of Kabuki-cho. [break][break]
It was, perhaps, not the brightest idea for the boy to head out on his own. Without a local to guide him, he nearly always found himself lost in the unfamiliar streets. But, Emile had always been a bit on the stubborn side, not being able to get from point A to point B made him feel like some helpless child--a feeling that was only compounded as every single shifting shadow brought to mind a pair of golden eyes.[break][break]
It didn't matter how far away he had flown from that deceitfully gentle-looking man--he was oceans away, and still he had his grip tight around his neck like a damned noose. A burning sensation, utterly psychosomatic, lighting up the scars beneath his layers of makeup brought a visible wince to his features. His hand flying to grip the spot at the back of his neck--unknowingly smudging his concealer just enough to reveal that Tsumaru tattoo that marked him as one of the family. He scoffed; those azure eyes narrowing. His body already trembling far too much from such a vague sense of dread.[break][break]
He isn't here. He can't hurt you. You have protection, now. Get it together.[break][break]
It was this fear that urged him to go out alone. He had to prove to himself that he was going to be okay. No matter how badly he wanted to reach out for help, how much he needed his hand held... He wouldn't always have someone there to do that for him.[break][break]
So, rather than accept what opportunities he had to ask for company; he tried to rip that band-aid off all on his own. The streets of Japan were far safer than Chicago, after-all. He knew better than to think himself truly safe; but, surely, he was at least safer than he felt. [break][break]
The hairs on his neck began to stand on end; feeling the presence of another shadow at his heels.[break][break]
You're being paranoid... calm down, calm down! [break][break]
He chided himself as he attempted to steady his heart. The start of a panic attack gripping his lungs and quickening his breath. [break][break]
Not now! You're fine! You're fucking fine! [break][break]
No matter how he screamed at himself; he couldn't shake the feeling of danger--his pupils pinpricking as his pace picked up. His footfalls barely made a sound; gliding through the streets like a ghost; weaving through the bodies that littered the redlight district in the evening like a madman.[break][break]
There's so many people around! You're fine! You're going to be fine![break][break]
But as he tried to convince himself; cold sweat pouring down his back--streaking that little patch on his neck that he somehow neglected to seal properly before heading out; he felt a hand at his shoulder; pulling him into a darkened alleyway away from the crowds. He opened his mouth to scream; but all to quickly found his mouth covered. His instinct to bite had been long-since trained out of him--a permanent conditioning leading him to believe he'd receive some instant punishment.[break][break]
His mind split into pieces; that damaged man seeing a figure that simply wasn't there.[break][break]
"I've plucked myself a pretty little flower..." [break][break]
A taunting croon from his captor; though it fell on deaf ears. An Aijiwau bastard that Em would have recognized had he actually been fully cognizant. [break][break]
"This is the one, right?" [break][break]
A low gruff voice left the imposing figure; his hands shifting to Em's shoulders as he thrust him towards a far smaller man. The duo looked like nothing more than businessmen.[break][break]
"Y-yeah, Aniki..." [break][break]
The meeker of the two all but whimpered.[break][break]
Slowly; as his body changed hands; Em's senses faded in and out--this smaller man striking much more of a chord in his memories. Some drunk bastard who'd gone and spilled far too many details about his life to his companion. The type that wilts away and sobs after getting their fill. Em, rather unfortunately, having stored all of those private details away in his memories. In a moment of clarity; he found that the smaller man's grip was much more forgiving--gripping his fabrics more than his skin. For as frail as he was; this wasn't Em's first run-in with this sort of thing. He ducked down quickly; sliding unceremoniously out of his coat; making a break for it blindly in the opposite direction, not wanting to risk getting grabbed by the broader of the two Aijiwau men on his way towards the street.[break][break]
"Help! Anyo--" [break][break]
Em tried to scream far too panicked to think to cry in Japanese; finally finding his voice; but once more he was far too suddenly grabbed. This time; his sweater gripped and used as leverage to thrust him to the concrete below; an instant throbbing in his cheek and forehead that left the wide-eyed courtesan speechless--memories of tiles in a bathroom overwriting the scenery he actually found himself in. "Please," was all he managed to whimper. Pitiful little creature frozen by his own terror.[break][break]
"Nothing personal, kid. Just can't trust you to keep that pretty mouth shut," the eldest grunted; his shoe positioned to bury itself in Em's stomach as his hand reached for a blade. He'd try to make it quick and clean.[break][break]
Oh Raven won't you sing me a happy song[break][break] Oh Raven won't you sing me a happy song[break][break] Scorpion sting, I don't wanna bleed[break][break] Tell me that I'm not lost[break][break] Oh Raven won't you sing me a happy song[break][break]
The only thought echoing through that little courtesan's mind as he tugged on a ragged midnight blue duffel coat. He looked immensely out-of-place among the painted walls of the brothel. The walls of that building coated in all manner of fineries to draw the eye of affluent men, heiresses, prodigies, and the like. While the boy was certainly exotic; his work had come to a close that night--no longer some lovely little hydrangea on display; just a foreigner in an over-sized cardigan and a pair of black leggings; his coat in such poor shape that it would be easy to believe he had just wandered in off of the streets.[break][break]
With a hesitant sigh; he finally stepped out from within those warm, extravagant confines--immediately gripped by a chill in the air. He didn't make a habit of leaving his room; least of all so late at night in a city he barely knew the name of. However, hunger and thirst had gripped him; the kitchen within his little establishment long since shut down for the night. The countless buildings that lined the streets of Shinjuku were all still so difficult for him to differentiate between--only having called this place his home for about three months now. All he knew was that one of those buildings with the glowing signs happened to be a 24-hour convenience store... and a quick, cheap meal was everything he needed to help his aching body recover before finally letting himself sleep.[break][break]
His footfalls were as quiet as a gentle breeze; even with his legs as heavy as lead--there was a grace to his movements. With ashen locks lit by moonlight; one could be forgiven for thinking the young man some specter. A slight timidity--a fear in that otherwise sleepy visage as he floated through the streets so familiar yet so vastly unknown. An intense shiver sent his petite frame trembling; already nervous by how far he'd come from his place of work.[break][break]
Did I already pass it...? I thought... it was closer...[break][break] Anxiety quickly gripping his heart as he wandered.[break][break]
The woman behind the reception desk holds a certain mystique; the aura and eyes of a fox as she greets Chiharu with a tone as smooth as the finest silk. “Shun, Shun… Ah; here we are,” she coos as her fingers pause their graceful roaming down the evening’s roster in her hands. “Please do enjoy your time with our Hydrangea; I’m certain you’ll find him to your liking.” A soft giggle punctuating her words; and a rather misplaced knowing grin flashed to the young woman; clearly not privy to the nature of their meeting. “Room 406, Shun-san; he’ll be expecting you.” [break][break]
The indicated doorway certainly holds a welcoming air; the door itself a relaxing powder blue; adorned with a wreath coated in a bushel of blue fabric hydrangeas. There’s no doubt that this is, indeed, the correct spot with the moniker she had been given. A soft chime fills the room as the door is opened, the scent of vanilla and jasmine wafting through the space. The scent is light and gentle; enveloping the senses while not overpowering them.[break][break]
At the sound of the chime; Hydrangea swiftly rises and bows his head in greeting; ashen curls falling into his face as clouds framing soft moonlight. The moment his head rises; chiharu finds a pair of vivid blue eyes staring back at her--reminiscent of the neon signs that adorn the buildings in Kabuki-cho. He is dressed far more conservatively than one would expect from a courtesan. Very little skin is showing; an outfit that could be described as French formal; a button-up white blouse adorned with a simple black ribbon around the collar in lieu of a tie; loosely hanging down over black slacks. [break][break]
“Welcome; thank to come. Please, a seat,” the boy coos. His voice soothing and airy with a slight rasp as if he’s only just awoken from a slumber. He has a painfully apparent American accent tinting his broken speech. The young man takes a step back and ushers Chiharu into the room; he looks far more like a doll than a living person in the soft lighting of that room. The space is beautiful and relaxing; designed specifically to ease clients into a comfortable state where lips and muscles can more readily be loosened. There is a slight sinister tinge to the aura of that place; far less towards acts taking place in such a seemingly warm room.[break][break]
He leads Chiharu over to a small sitting area; plush cushions upon the floor; and a table holding a sketchbook and a teapot of freshly brewed Matcha. “Pleasure. Named Hydrangea; what to call, sister?” He asks; while folding his hands in his lap; thinking over the minimal information he’s been given on his guest’s visit today. Information on Tanaka-san; and potentially a few suspected Aijiwau members thought to be involved in a drug ring. [break][break]
Em had picked up quite a bit through these past sessions; locations and types of drugs circulated. The men and women who came to see him frequently liked to brag, to tempt, to flirt… Sometimes dipping into their own supply and keeping their lips moving. The little foreigner didn’t speak well; so it was understandable that they would presume he wouldn’t pick up on what they were saying--but he has stored a great deal of information over his last few months working as a Tsumaru. Getting that information to Chiharu, however, could be a challenge. [break][break]
The young man appears rather formal; a quiet disposition. It’s clear, however, that he is watching and reading Chiharu’s every move very carefully. His eyes affixed to her; only darting in the moments that she shifts her hands. He doesn’t appear to be trying to hide this behavior; a sense of ease given to him by their shared family syndicate. She seems nice enough to him, if not a little… on-edge.[break][break]
Elegance had become a way of life; a necessity. When one caters to the wealthy whose names seem to carry more weight than those of forgotten deities; they must learn to carry themselves in a way that suits them. Abe Chiyoko had become a frequent customer of his; bringing him to all manner of social gatherings. There was a comfort to this little dance; one that returned him to the normalcy of being a hired companion. While the young heiress of the political family was, perhaps, a bit more dominating in her disposition than Emile usually preferred; she had a certain charm.[break][break]
When they were alone; she was to be addressed as Abe-sama; while they were out-and-about, however… He was to call her simply Chi; lacking an honorific to imply that they were, indeed, an item. They dressed in matching shades of blue and charcoal to suit her family; his suits chosen by her for each event. The story given was that Emile was a wealthy foreigner with connections in the technology development market; big names that had ties with Tsumaru; those that would be... unlikely, to be questioned. Not a big business player himself; but one who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Guests would occasionally fawn over his exotic appearance; and many attempted to win his favor so that he would put in a good word for them with his supposed ties. He played the part of a handsome airhead well enough; it wasn’t particularly difficult when he stumbled over his words so frequently.[break][break]
They had a fairly comfortable Dynamic; Emile would escort the bleach-blonde heiress to events, treat her to drinks, lead her in a few romantic dances, and then the two of them were free to mingle. Much like himself; while the woman had a broad taste for companions--she tended to prefer a softer variety. She spent much of the party flitting about and flirting with other young women who had, unfortunately, the same strict appearances to uphold. There was some freedom that came with his work; not having to hide his preferences through the majority of his day was one of them. It was that aspect of himself that had, months ago, drawn him to Francis. [break][break]
Back then, Emile could speak so little Japanese that it was nearly impossible to hold a conversation. Likely, in some attempt to impress the fellow guests; he had managed to overhear the man speaking in French. While it wasn’t his strongest language; Emile spoke it far more fluently than he did Japanese. There was a certain luck in finding a rather striking, wealthy young man who he could actually hold a conversation with. The more they spoke--the more he began to notice a few, familiar tells. In Em’s line of work; one has to be particularly skilled in reading body-language; the silent social cues that people too often overlook. [break][break]
At first; Francis intrigued him. He had suspicions that the man may have a few qualities in-common with Abe-sama and himself… Those suspicions grew; and slowly it was no longer Francis who held the majority of his attention. His companion; Seiko’s body language in tandem with his, was, concerning, to say the least. Over the last few months she seemed to grow more meek and uncertain. His every touch seemed to bring unease to her form; and the way her eyes flit to him so fervently after each movement or sound? He’d seen plenty of that before. Hell, he’d been in that position before--not exactly, of course, but enough to empathise. [break][break]
He checked for the couple each time he attended these extravagant swares; and upon seeing the pair-his eyes lit up as brightly as ocean waters reflecting starlight. He pressed an adoring kiss to the back of his client’s hand. “Chi, my love, I will return to your side before the night’s end.” he cooed to her in French; his displays always a bit more hands-on than was appropriate for Japanese society. Given a pass only due to his status as a Frenchman; stereotypes boundless for his kin. With a knowing smile; Chiyoko dismissed him; her own sights set across the dancefloor to a far more timid creature lurking near the bar. [break][break]
“You’re piling it on a little thick, don’t you think, darling?” A teasing lilt to Chiyoko’s tone as he released her hand. [break][break]
“Never, for you, my Princess,” his own tone playfully reflecting hers, chucking at the rather animated roll of her eyes that he received. The young man whirling around and making his way over to his frequent companions; his duties fulfilled until it was time to retire for the night. [break][break]
“Hello Emile, how have you been?”[break][break]
Emile’s head lilting gently to the side in some soft display of familiarity; a similarly warm smile on his face. Quite fond of the little performance. He quite easily returned the reserved wave; making sure to provide Seiko with that same warmth--in all honesty; the softness in his expression was far more authentic when he turned it towards her; his heart aching as her, far less enjoyable performance carried on.[break][break]
“Hello Francis, Seiko, I’ve been quite well…” His words gentle murmurs in French; vivid azures hooding as he turned his glance to the woman he had arrived with. He kept his body language fluid and lightly flirtatious; his eyes affixed to the other Frenchman; though his true attention was given to Seiko through his peripherals. “I think I’m finally starting to adjust to Japan; though it’s certainly still a bit… much.” he cooed; before folding his hands in front of him; leaning in slightly; a somewhat flirtatious lilt to his tone that, hopefully, the two had become accustomed to. [break][break]
“How about the two of you? Such a beautiful pair; and of course… You look dashing, as always.” His eyes held a mischievous little glint as he spoke; hoping, for just a moment--to be of some distraction--though, remaining attentive to that hand at Seiko’s side. Aware that there was a possibility his attempt to distract could very well just result in more tension--one thing he was careful to avoid repeating each time he slipped up. His heart started to pound in his chest at the prospect of his following thought; something he’d failed to ask… [break][break]
I should separate them. Let the poor thing breathe… [break][break]
Once he had received his response; he gathered the courage to pose a, hopefully, not-too-strange request. As guests paired off and began preparing for the next song; Emile’s lips parted--his tone airy; trying to convey some knowing glance as he looked into Francis’ eyes. “Would you mind if I stole away your companion for the next dance? Perhaps… You could get some air. It’s rather stuffy in here, suffocating, really…” He pried that Francis would take the opportunity to take a break from that performance he and Seiko shared. Emile could finally get some time alone with Seiko. Get to know her a bit; and maybe… be of some assistance, somehow.[break][break]
He turned his gaze to the beautiful young woman, shifting to speaking some broken Japanese. “I am not good with speak; but, understand well. Can be fun, promise. Eh, Seiko-san?” His thick American accent had finally started to dissipate; but his grammar was, lacking. Still; his eyes were earnest; and his tone as smooth as silk. Offering her his hand in a gentleman’s stance. [break][break]
Sorry people keep me humble They stop me before I stumble Cause what I have is far too good to leave it all behind, I could I am just the average person Trying to make a lifetime worth it But I worry it'll bleed me dry Always try to catch their eyes I go where I go[break][break] You may not like it, though The world at my feet If I could find it, though But when night becomes day, oh Yeah, when night becomes day I'm the better man Sorry footsteps drag on concrete Carrying their guilt in the heat But I worry it'll bring me down I feel this need to turn around I go where I go[break][break]You may not like it, though The world at my feet If I could find it, though And when night becomes day, oh Yeah, when night becomes day I'm the better man Oh, honey, I'm a fool hurting you The rules make us act so cold again Oh, honey, I'm a fool hurting you The rules make us act so cold I go where I go[break][break] You may not like it, though The world at my feet If I could find it, though And when night becomes day, oh Yeah, when night becomes day, oh Yeah, when night becomes day, oh I'm the better man Oh, I'm the better man
[div][attr="class","rinBody"][div] Sorry people keep me humble They stop me before I stumble Cause what I have is far too good to leave it all behind, I could I am just the average person Trying to make a lifetime worth it But I worry it'll bleed me dry Always try to catch their eyes I go where I go[break][break] [b]You may not like it, though[/b] The world at my feet If I could find it, though But when night becomes day, oh Yeah, when night becomes day I'm the better man Sorry footsteps drag on concrete Carrying their guilt in the heat But I worry it'll bring me down I feel this need to turn around I go where I go[break][break][i]You may not like it, though[/i] The world at my feet If I could find it, though And when night becomes day, oh Yeah, when night becomes day I'm the better man Oh, honey, I'm a fool hurting you The rules make us act so cold again Oh, honey, I'm a fool hurting you The rules make us act so cold I go where I go[break][break] You may not like it, though The world at my feet If I could find it, though And when night becomes day, oh Yeah, when night becomes day, oh Yeah, when night becomes day, oh I'm the better man Oh, I'm the better man [/div][/div]
