Chapter Text
“Excuse me.”
Akemi slides open the shoji door, careful with her cargo. Steadfast, she refuses to look at the monster’s face. It doesn’t deserve to be acknowledged—not yet. Not until she’s ready. She has to fully play the part of the docile brothel girl, not arouse any suspicion. Head down. Embodiment of grace and flowing movements, not a hair out of place. Willing to do anything for the customer.
For this to work, she had to be perfect.
Slowly, Akemi pours tea for the other in the room. Keeping her head down, she raises the sake cup.
No response. Hm. Seems she’d have to be the one to instigate conversation.
Flicking her eyes upwards, she finds the monster turned away from her. Though, almost as if it sensed her eyes upon it, it turned to her.
Oh, she thinks. That isn’t the face of a monster.
And then she sees them—the eyes. Behind the yellow spectacles, a sickening shade of blue, not unlike the roiling waves of the coast, rife with seafoam and as desaturated as an incoming storm. She feels ill. Monster eyes set in a human face. A demon.
Her hands shake, but not enough to jostle the carefully served sake. Eyes snap shut as the demon turns to fully face her. She will remain stoic. Indifferent. Perfect.
… Maybe not so perfect. The atmosphere is perfect for starting some conversation. Her job is to lull it into compliance, before she goes in for the kill. And brothel girls… talk.
“... Your eyes—” she begins, lifting her eyes bashfully back towards the monster and suppressing a shudder.
“Whatever clever insult comes next is not as clever as you think,” it cuts her off.
Akemi thinks to herself, how could such a beast be so confident in itself.
She breathes carefully. “They’re beautiful,” she tells the thing, and graces above, the demon seems to fall for it. The expression on its face opens, and it reaches to grasp the sake from her, taking it with unexpected grace and barely brushing her fingertips.
Calloused, Akemi thinks to herself. Warm. Slightly larger than her own hands. If she is to down this monster, she must know every part of it, she reasons. The strength and obvious work in the hands of the demon are something she must know intrinsically.
Right. Move the conversation forward. “A colour I haven’t seen outside of sea and sky,” and her fear-instilling childhood stories, she doesn’t say. She lets her eyelids fall slightly back over her eyes, as flirtatious as she can make them. Akemi lowers her head towards her chest, accentuating her eyelashes as she peers at the beast through them.
The thing almost seems to smile. A victory. “Huh. I see,” it responds.
Then its eyes flick to the side, and Akemi feels inexplicably fooled. “Your Madame explained how it’s some essential part of the soul that draws men to brothels when it's only naked flattery. Do men usually fall for this?”
Shit. Not a victory, then. But perhaps it could still be a step forward. After all… “The ones I’ve known, yes,” Akemi replies, lifting her eyes from where they had fallen back to stare at the hands of the demon, should they move unexpectedly. She forces herself to make eye contact again, and smiles softly.
Her answer seems to appease the other. It briefly smirks before its eyes shift to the side once more, and it raises the sake to its lips, inhaling. It stops. Shit. Does it…?
“I thought it was tea,” it sighs, putting distance between its mouth and the cup. “I don’t drink.”
Well. That puts a bit of a twist in her plans.
“Madame thought you might prefer the sake—to relax,” Akemi offers as explanation. It would be so much easier if this beast were anything like the other monstrous men in this wretched place, she thinks, but of course it even refuses alcohol.
And what a thought, to suddenly overcome her mind. Of all the others in this place, the one that is least human has acted the most amicable to her so far. Of course, it has no idea who she is. Why she is here. But now is not the time to ponder.
Please, just drink the damn sake, she thinks, before coaxing, “Maybe just a sip?”
It seems to appraise her, briefly, eyes flicking up and down her figure. Those damn eyes. “If you’ll join me. I have ugly business coming.”
Akemi, firmly, does not acknowledge the fact that all business it has is ugly business, with its demon eyes and habits of ruining local samurai.
It pours her sake. Shit. Lifting the cup, again, so gracefully, it offers the sake to her and adds, “Suddenly, I’m glad for company.” Smiling in a way she hopes is more than a grimace, Akemi clasps the cup gently in her hands.
“To flattery,” it toasts. The cup is raised to its lips, and Akemi focuses on that. So close. The cup is touching the beast’s lips, and she is almost victorious—
“Hot,” it says, a question but not. Once more, seasick blue eyes are fixed on her.
Ah. It wants an explanation. “Where I’m from, that’s how men prefer it,” Akemi offers. Just drink the damn alcohol. “Kyoto,” she adds, for clarity. It looks at her again. She’s starting to become used to the strange tint behind the lenses, but she’s sure it's much worse with them removed. She wonders if the spectacles are for hiding the eyes out of necessity, care, or a mixture of both. She wonders if the thing has a family to hide those eyes from.
“I’ve been there once, recently,” it tells her, and she goes to respond because Kyoto, her home, is beautiful, but—
“Dirty and crowded,” the demon describes her home. And how dare it. “Full of puffed-up crows posing as swordsmen.”
Akemi marvels at the hypocrisy in that statement. She feels her expression compress, confusion and anger cracking her perfect mask.
“I beat the most ridiculous samurai, there,” it says, “if you can call him that.”
Akemi sits back, losing her grip on perfection entirely. Taigen.
“I cut off his chignon, and then he came chasing after me, demanding a rematch. He kept saying I ruined his engagement,” it huffs a laugh at that statement, as if ruining Akemi’s chance of a happy marriage is outlandish. The face of the monster is crinkled in amusement. “I think he was angrier about his hair than his marriage,” but Akemi isn’t listening anymore. She’s thinking about how much this thing deserves to suffer for what it did to her, what it did to Taigen.
Then it says, “What was his name?” Humming in contemplation, it adds, “I can’t remember.” Akemi mentally breathes a sigh of relief, that it won’t have a name to track down her beloved, while simultaneously being outraged that it doesn’t even bother to remember his name.
“Anyways, he’s dead now,” and Akemi forgets how to breathe. She sucks in a choking gasp anyway, because even if she doesn’t know how to breathe, her body remembers. The monster seems to take it as a question. “Oh yeah, I killed him,” it says, smug.
Akemi loses the ability to think rationally, apparently, because she’s throwing herself over the chabudai table with her tiny knife, ready to stab this thing to a retributive death.
It expects her.
It catches her hand, flipping the knife away so it lodges somewhere else in the room. She has lost her weapon, but not her will, she can still—
Her arms are pulled behind her back, and the blue-eyed demon presses its weight onto her until she hits the ground, it kneeling atop her stomach. She’s outraged, thrashing from where her hands are pinned by it. Helpfully, her mind recalls that this is another… position. She wonders if that is why her stomach clenches in expectation.
“Get off of me!” She demands, ignoring everything else in favour of outrage.
“You think I don’t remember you? Princess Akemi,” it asks, and as suddenly as she was hit with anger she is now hit with fear. It knew her. Not as a brothel girl, but as Akemi, not just highborn noble but princess. And by the tone in its voice, it knew about Taigen. Suddenly the conversation makes sense. She had chalked up the conversation to the tasteless bragging expected of such a despicable demon, proud of itself for dishonouring a noble samurai, but no. It was goading her, waiting for her to stop her act and be overcome enough with emotion to—something. To do something. She wasn’t sure what it wanted yet. Maybe confirmation? But it… already had the confirmation…
Unless it didn’t. Shit, Akemi was so dumb. It might not have remembered her at first, but her reaction to the statement of Taigen dying certainly confirmed any suspicions harboured.
Oh. Taigen was dead. Now wasn’t the time to be overcome with despair, but at those words she wasn’t sure there was much else for her. Akemi’s lower lip trembled, and she willed it still, but couldn’t will her eyes to stop welling with tears.
The demon met her eyes and huffed another laugh. “He’s not dead,” it tells her, and she doesn’t believe a word. This thing is playing her. She grits her teeth and lets her head hit the floor, moaning in despair.
She feels the mockery in the tone as the demon responds, “Shut up. I didn’t kill him.” The weight previously keeping her pinned, lifts a little, though not fully. “I left him with his life and a promise to fight. A promise for a rematch,” it clarifies, as though it thought Akemi was going to assume it was a promise to kill him later. Which, she would have.
She latches on to the sparks of hope blooming in her chest. “He’s alive?”
Yellow lenses don’t block the pitying glance it throws her way, and indignation rises in her chest. “You came all this way for a doomed engagement?” The weight presses back down onto her, though more gently than before. “Akemi, you don’t even know who Taigen is.”
She shoots back, “I know him better than you ever could.” Her hands are starting to tingle from the grip on her wrists, the slow blocking of blood flow sending pinpricks through her fingertips. The torn robes given to her from old stock barely stop the cold seeping in from the floors, and once more Akemi is hit by the current position she’s in.
Above her, still keeping her pinned, the demon responds, “Obviously. I only grew up with him,” which is an obvious lie. Taigen would never have been around a demon. It seems to see her disbelief, though, and hisses through clenched teeth. “I also have… allies in the same circles.” Akemi doesn’t believe for a second they are true allies, but remains silent. It stares harder into her eyes, spectacles not slipping despite the position. “I don’t think you would like the man Taigen truly is.”
Outrage consumes her again, but she doesn’t thrash. She knows it’s pointless. “I don’t have to listen to anything you say. You’re nothing but a blue-eyed onryo.”
She doesn’t understand the expression that crosses the demon’s face, so she ignores it. Or, she tries to. The grip on her wrists that had been lessening and the weight that had just been keeping her in place suddenly increases threefold, and the air is knocked from her lungs.
Akemi’s head turns to the side as the monster draws its face nearer to hers, attempting in vain to put more distance between them. Insulting it in her current compromised position may have been a misstep, but she can’t bring herself to regret it. Breath ghosts over the curve of her ear.
“I may be an onryo, but I have never cheated so often on someone so devoted,” it hisses, and Akemi doesn’t have time to respond before it says, “Women in our world are never allowed anything, but you? You were born with everything. Just to throw it away over a man who couldn’t be loyal to you for even a week.”
Akemi can’t think of a response to that. She doesn’t believe it, obviously, but—
But.
Unfaithfulness is not uncommon in samurai. It’s practically expected. But Taigen is different, he loved her. Nobody else.
She decides.
“I don’t believe a word out of your fucking mouth,” she all but spits in its face. She glares as hard as she can from her side-facing position on the floor, cheek squashed flat to the wood. It appears to expect this response, and merely watches her. “Taigen loves me,” she insists, “He said so. I know so. Your mind games won’t work on me,” she lifts her mouth in a vicious smirk.
It stares at her, unflinching. “You’ll believe that he’s alive, then, but not what kind of man he is,” it considers her. “I suppose I should have expected that.” The grip it has on her hasn’t lessened, but it starts to feel less threatening, and more… secure.
Akemi snarls at it, pressing up to ignore thoughts of security and safety when she is anything but. “If anyone here is an unfaithful, honourless bastard, it’s you,” she says. The beast lifts its head away from hers, tilting it in an appraising way. She ignores the way her insides squirm at the motion.
“Not a day in my life have I been unfaithful. A murderer?” It smiles, sharp teeth and sharp angles. “Definitely. I have maimed men and felt nothing.” The smile drops. “But they deserved it. No lover deserves to be betrayed.”
The look in its eyes almost compels Akemi to believe it’s speaking from experience. Her heart briefly clenches, not at the notion that it knows firsthand how it feels to be betrayed, but by the fact that it implies it isn’t lying. About Taigen favouring… other women.
Akemi feels her expression fall and the fight leaves her body. There had been doubts in her mind, at first, about Taigen. She is a princess, and he is a man, and if she knows anything at all about men it’s that they love power. As time went on, though, she found herself inexplicably falling for his charms. His talents and his skill with the blade, the smile he’d send her way that made her feel like the only girl in the world.
But a smile is a smile, and wielding a blade is nothing that nobody else can master.
Akemi’s heart freezes in her chest, and she stares into the stormy eyes of her assailant. She opens her mouth.
“What do you want?” Her voice breaks on want, and her feeble grasp on her emotions begins to slip, face screwing up in an attempt to staunch the flow of tears. She feels naked, exposed, and in a way, she is. There is nothing left to cover her bare emotions, the only thing covering her form a torn and ragged whore’s robe. Here, Akemi isn’t anything near a princess. She is heartbroken, trapped beneath a monster that likely wishes her dead, and could do so with a swish of its wrist.
She almost wishes it would, to spare her the agony and embarrassment of loving a man so traitorous.
The body on her, going from initial rage to a gentle grasp to a secure grip, shifts once more. It frees her wrists, and she almost doesn’t realize her hands are free until it’s sitting up and away from her.
It… let her go.
Out of pity?
Akemi hopes not. She doesn’t have the will to be angry anymore.
“I don’t want anything from you,” it says, then corrects, “Except for you to realize what you have.” It fixes her with a stern expression. “Stop chasing after a doomed existence. Be content with what you have.”
What an impossible wish, Akemi thinks. She doesn’t know if she knows how to be content. More, more, more. She always wants more.
A wry smile falls to her lips. “No can do.”
It’s strange. The demon has all the power it needs to make her do whatever it wants, and it’s just watching her. Like it’s waiting. Akemi wonders if that means she could…
It only watches as Akemi reaches up, though there is a tenseness in its frame that assures her it expects her to try something. Well, she will. But not what it suspects. Her fingertips trace the cool edges of the spectacles, and it remains watchful, but unmoving. She shifts to a sitting position, knees under her.
“... What is someone like you doing at a brothel, anyway? You clearly aren’t here for the women,” Akemi pauses. She pauses the tracing of the lens frame, looking to the wall. “Unless you’re here for the men…?” She hedges. It certainly could be possible. It’s a brothel. Maybe she had never stood a chance at seduction, and at that thought she expects relief to not have had to expose herself to such a creature. Instead, she feels a warm tangle of emotions, none of them relief.
Careful watching sharpens. “I’m not,” it says. “I’m not here for pleasure.” Akemi figures that that sounds right. A demon on a mission. It would be interesting to know if demons could even feel pleasure at all, aside from the pleasure of taking lives.
Her fingers begin moving to the supporting frame on the side of the lenses, and she watches her fingers as they feel. “Shame,” she says, lost in thought. “Can a demon even feel pleasure?”
She feels rather than sees the confusion in the beast’s face. Fair, Akemi doesn’t know what she’s doing either.
“If you think you can seduce me into another murder attempt, I’m afraid you’re quite out of luck.”
“Doesn’t answer my question,” Akemi responds.
The bafflement in the air is near tangible. “Why do you want to know?”
“Call me curious,” says Akemi, as she finally grasps the wiry frames and pulls them from the other in a fluid motion. A choked sound of alarm sounds from the monster, and Akemi turns the spectacles in her grip, admiring them. Two large, calloused hands quickly reach out to reclaim the lenses, but Akemi pulls them to the side and shoves them under her robes.
There, she thinks, triumphant. She doesn’t know what she’s triumphant about. The room is warm, and her mind is muddled despite not tasting any of the drugged sake.
Suddenly, she’s on the ground again, and her eyes snap to the face above her, now devoid of any obscuring lenses. And, oh—
The spectacles had made seasick blue eyes where there was a cool breeze instead. Eyes that Akemi had thought reminiscent of the water left after washing clothing now look more clear than the sky on a warm spring day.
“Oh,” she breathes. “A colour I’ve never seen outside of sea and sky.”
The demon… no, the man… no, the… thing. The thing above her searches her face, unexpectedly vulnerable. “I told you, flattery won’t work.”
Akemi sighs, frustrated. “I’m offended you think me unintelligent enough to try a failing method twice.” She tilts her head. “This time, I mean it.”
And fuck, she means it. The eyes are more… round than she’s used to seeing, but by no means ugly. There was another woman in the brothel with light eyes, but she was all light colours and pale lines. This, above her, was incredible. Dark lashes framed bright eyes, almost similar to the gems and jewels back at the palace. The contrast was breathtaking. And then the skin on its face… smooth. Smooth, unexpectedly so of any swordsman on the run. Not even marred by a scar. Akemi wonders if that speaks to a comfortable life, or of never losing. She thinks it’s more likely the latter.
A wheezing inhale sounds, and Akemi blinks. Ah. Where had her mind gone?
She’s back on the floor, but her wrists aren’t pinned. Instead, two hands frame her head on either side, and legs lock her waist in place. It’s still gentle enough that should she press, she’s sure she could break free. She doesn’t really want to, and wonders what’s wrong with her.
A strange expression is on the demon’s face. “You don’t mean that. You can’t fool me.” It sits back up, letting Akemi go completely. “Just… go.” It reaches out its palm, in request of… oh. Right, the spectacles.
Akemi should. She should leave. Take the spectacles with her, too, so it can’t hide its eyes from innocent bystanders. So that everyone knows what it is.
Akemi doesn’t really want anyone else to see those eyes, though. She’s struck with an idea.
“You said that Taigen is unfaithful?” A suspicious nod.
“I know he is,” it promises.
Akemi hums. “I still love him,” and she does. But, “I kind of want revenge.” The demon, kneeling across from her, tenses.
“I won’t kill him for you. If I have to kill him, it will be during the duel.”
A sour expression takes over Akemi’s face. “I just said I still love him. I don’t want you to kill him. But I was thinking,” Akemi leans up, into the demon’s space. “Maybe I could get a different kind of revenge...”
It stares at her, uncomprehending, those stunning eyes untrusting. Huffing, Akemi elaborates, “What’s a little bit of… mutual unfaithfulness?” To further her point, she shifts her shoulders slightly, so that the barest hint of cleavage becomes exposed from her robes.
Truly, this is a terrible idea. But Akemi knows this:
One, the blue-eyed beat Taigen. It is either dishonourable, which means it really has nothing to lose by using Akemi, or it is strong. And Akemi needs strong allies. Sex always sways people, this she knows.
Two, she doesn’t think she would mind. It’s strange, how much her mind has wavered in the past… however long she’s been in here. She did tell the Madame she could break the blue-eyed, and she doesn’t intend to go back on her word. Even if the meaning of break changed sometime during their conversation. The blue-eyed is… attractive. Much nicer to look at than the walrus she just had to deal with. And she might not even have to go all the way; Akemi knows she’s clever enough to get men going without deflowering herself further.
So, really, Akemi doesn’t have anything to lose. Except her life, maybe, if it finds her disrespectful, but she doesn’t think the blue-eyed is inclined towards killing her. If it were, she has no doubt in her mind her body would long be cold.
Those blue eyes flick down to her chest, minutely, and then back to her face. Score.
“I’d really rather not,” it says. Not score.
“Are you sure…?” Akemi hums, sliding forward, raising a hand to let her hair down. It falls down to her shoulders in the way that she knows is simply devilish, soft and silky and draping her figure seductively.
“I’m not what you think I am,” it tries, and Akemi almost giggles.
“What, a demon? Or a man?” At the word man, it tenses. Interesting. Maybe it is truly a demon, after all.
Well, Akemi is already damned, and any advantage she can get is one less unguarded flank to be stabbed.
“I don’t care that you’re a demon,” she promises. It watches her, with obvious discomfort. Well, there’s one thing Akemi knows she can do to prove her point.
Surging forward, Akemi places one hand on the face of the blue-eyed, one on the nape of its neck, and presses her lips to its own. His own? No, she had essentially just confirmed it was no man… but constantly referring to the blue-eyed as it was beginning to feel strange. It looked more human than demon, after all.
The lips certainly felt human. Warm, slightly dry, but not opposingly chapped. Akemi leans in, not expecting to like the press of skin as much as she does. She knows her own lips aren’t anything short of luscious, and waits for it to reciprocate.
There’s no movement from the blue-eyed, and after a beat, Akemi leans back.
She doesn’t understand the expression on its face. She doesn’t seem to understand a lot about the blue-eyed, now that she thinks of it.
It looks… strange. Like it’s in pain, but not. It doesn’t look mad, though, which is great. She makes a questioning hum.
“Why…?” It asks. “I told you. You can’t seduce me. I’m not here for pleasure. I’m here for business,” it stresses, and Akemi thinks, oh.
Maybe there was no chance anyways.
She tries not to feel embarrassed by her actions, but her face flushes anyway. She opens her mouth to explain, and finds she can’t.
“Just…” it trails off, and Akemi feels foolish. She begins to lower herself in apology, when she hears the door slide open again, a voice she doesn’t recognize.
“Master! I found—who is this?” Another man says, but she doesn’t get a chance to think about that before something blunt hits her temple, and everything goes dark.
When Akemi next awakes, she’s tied, and vows to never mention it again.