Work Text:
Tengen was shaking. His palms were sweaty, his cheeks heating up. On the day of his 18th birthday, he had expected things to go better.
She was beautiful, yes. Nothing like an oiran, but her long, shiny yellow hair and golden eyes made her stand out among the women the red-light district had to offer. Beautiful, but despite her unique features, what had caught his eyes — or perhaps, ears — was her performance. Worthy of the title of best shamisen player in Yoshiwara, her fingers danced on the instrument’s neck with the grace of light rain, the melancholic melody curled around Tengen and captivated him in a trance. With a bland smile on her blood-red painted lips, she acknowledged his longing stares and that small gesture had done it for him. Tengen decided she would be his birthday gift.
However, as he sat on one of the house’s secluded rooms with the woman across him, he began to reconsider.
“Now what,” said his courtesan, in a rather masculine voice, “Are you happy to have me after so much insistence?”
Tengen opened his mouth to speak but was quickly cut off by her—his laugh.
“How old are you? Sixteen? Seventeen?” The blond covered his mouth with the sleeve of his yellow kimono, an oddly endearing gesture. “Big boys like you shouldn’t make such a scene just because a girl tells him no.”
He wanted to protest, it hadn’t been a scene, simply a flamboyant insistence. If only he had known that his woman wasn’t woman enough…
“You’re not even a girl, perverted old—”
“Don’t be rude, I turned twenty-six only a few weeks ago!”
Tengen scrunched up his nose, staring at him up and down. “And that doesn’t make you any less perverted.”
“You say that as if you had come here with the purest intentions…”
The man grinned from ear to ear and Tengen sat still, watching as he moved slowly and cautiously. He inched closer to Tengen, fingers gripping his arm to stop him from moving away, and sat by Tengen with his knees to the side. Face to face with that smile, Tengen’s stomach dropped. Part of him wanted to up and leave, while the other seemed to be focusing too much on how ambiguous he looked. Women’s clothes, makeup, posture, but up-close the mask cracked and things got blurry and precisely that blurriness held him down. And it wasn’t out of fear, unfortunately; if only it was that and not this unchildsh curiosity, if only he was filled with repulsion and not this warm desire to observe him for hours on.
“What’s your name, boy?”
“I’m no boy,” Tengen snarled. “And why should I tell you?”
“I’m Agatsuma Zenitsu, but you should call me Zenko.” He rested his chin on Tengen’s shoulder, sending tiny shivers up and down his spine. “Now you tell me yours because I told you mine.”
He let go of Tengen’s arm to play with the first button of his shirt and Tengen swallowed, too proud to allow himself to squirm away.
“Uzui Tengen.”
Agatsuma hummed, pleased. “And what brings you to this part of the country, Uzui Tengen?”
“What do you think,” he snapped.
At that, Agatsuma threw his head back laughing, with that same feminine gesture of covering his mouth with the kimono sleeve. The sound was irritating yet somewhat endearing and Tengen didn’t know what to do about that.
“I apologize!” he said between giggles. “You see, although I am working, this is not really my job. I had an agreement with the house’s boss to not be sent to a room like one of the girls…”
Tengen’s jaw dropped. Maybe he had insisted a bit too much. “So you’re not a courtesan?”
“Not at all.”
“Then why are you here?”
“As I said, I’m working.”
“On what?”
“Right now?” He grinned, then placed a hand to Tengen’s jaw. “On you.” His golden eyes ran over his face as if fishing for a reaction, but he didn’t seem disappointed that Tengen held himself together. “You’re my very first client… would it be too much to ask you to be gentle?”
Tengen rolled his eyes. “I’m not about to fuck a—”
A hand clasped over his mouth. He tried to pull away but Agatsuma held him down, muffling his protests with his palm then raising a finger in front of his lips to warn him to be quiet. His expression had been stripped of all playfulness thus Tengen obeyed, and Agatsuma sat silently with his eyes closed — listening, Tengen reckoned, and suddenly his ears found a soft, annoying buzz, a vibration coming from somewhere in the building.
Agatsuma opened his eyes and turned to him. “Duty calls!”
“What do you m—”
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll do my best to survive and come back so you can have your money’s worth, but for now…”
He cupped Tengen’s cheek and gave him no time to think. It lasted for a second — lean in, lean back — but it still left him disoriented, with a warm tingle on his lips after Agatsuma pressed his own against them.
“For good luck!”
And before Tengen could react, he leaped to his feet and ran out of the room.