.
"I love you."
The Youko kit paused in the act of pulling his clothing back on, flicking one ear in the direction of the youkai lounging in the bed. "Ahh...hn." He tugged his trousers on, then plucked his tunic off the chair it had landed on at the beginning of their 'session'.
"You're not leaving already, are you?" He shifted on the bed and reached down to grab the kit's tail and pull him back onto the bed. The Youko cursed softly as his client's arms wrapped around him, trapping him.
"Jirou... your time is almost up." The kit stopped squirming to give the clock a significant glance.
Jirou buried his face in the kit's hair. "Hush, boy. I just want to hold you." The kit laid his ears back, but since his time was almost up, and all Jirou wanted to do was hold him (and he didn't recall any of his numerous siblings telling him to charge extra for that ), he stopped struggling and allowed Jirou to curl around him.
"I do love you." The pale-haired youkai murmured softly in his ear. "You're my inspiration... all of my best work has been done while I was picturing you. Thinking of your innocence, your soft skin..." His voice trailed off and he sighed, running his fingers through the boy's long silver hair. "Do you realize what you do to me?"
The kit swished his tail, enjoying the attention Jirou was paying to his hair. "Mmmm... do to you?" He blinked, glancing at the clock. "I dunno. But it's time for you to leave."
Jirou sighed, but bowed his head in acquiescence. "All right. Go, little one. Just... keep yourself for me until next I can see you."
The kit slipped out of Jirou's arms and onto the floor, pulling the tunic over his head. This accomplished, he turned back to Jirou, favoring the youkai with his sweetest smile and uttering the first and most important word he'd learned that was not of his native tongue. "Tip?" Jirou smiled and pulled out of his neatly folded clothing a silver coin, which he flicked at the kit. The silver Youko caught it easily and, with a parting grin, opened the door and beat a hasty retreat downstairs, where the family owned and staffed brothel doubled as a restaurant. Pausing at the bottom of the stairs, he scanned the tables for any of his regular customers. He didn't see any, but he did see Junko, his favorite sister, waiting tables.
Waving, he dashed across the room, dodging the customers and furniture expertly. "Oneechan!" He flung himself into her arms. Junko lifted him up, cradling him against her chest. The customers smiled appreciatively at the spectacle, some leering at the little kit. The two siblings paid them no mind as Junko made her way back to the kitchens, carrying her little brother like a doll.
Junko set him down on one of the counters, running a hand through his hair. "Finished with Jirou already, dear?" He nodded, opening his clenched fist to reveal the coin. Junko eyes widened and she grinned at him. "Wow, silver[1].. I'm impressed, little brother. You're that good?"
He snorted. "Well, of course I'm that good... Papa didn't train me to be some street whore, after all." Junko nodded, ruffling his hair. "Very good.. have you eaten yet today?" He shook his head and Junko hugged him. "Well, we'll just get you a meal and then you can get back to work."
He watched with a smile as his beloved sister secured a plate of the day's special and a mug of mulled cider for him. At a gesture from Junko he slid off the counter and trotted after her to the family's private dinning room. Not that they ever actually got together and ate; they were all too busy, for one thing, and there were just too many of them. He guessed there were about fifteen or so of his siblings working in the brothel, plus their father, and then there were the family members who never stayed for to long, but were always off some place or another. Today, though, there were five people taking a meal in the room: Shiyo, Kariudo, Jion, Aijou, and a tall, black-haired Youko he didn't recognize. Only Shiyo and the black-haired stranger looked up when he and Junko came in.
The stranger was obviously known to Junko. She gasped at the sight of him, golden eyes going wide with fear. The kit moved to stand in front of his sister, not really believing he could protect her, but ready to try. The strange Youko laughed, watching the two of them with a cold smile. By this time the others had looked up also, watching them with interest. Junko seemed paralyzed with fear, even though the stranger hadn't done anything. The kit frowned at her, puzzled. "Junko?"
His voice seemed to free her from her paralysis. Giving herself a shake she tossed an encouraging smile to her younger brother and scowled at the newcomer. "Kensaku. I see you're back."
Kensaku smiled easily. "It's good to be home, sister. I see you're well." His eyes fell on the kit and lit up. "Ah-ha, I believe this is your famed twin, Shiyo? He's just as beautiful as everyone says."
Shiyo snorted delicately, glowering at him. "Aww, he ain't that great." She frowned at her twin, who didn't much resemble her at all. While she was tall for her age, he was small; her golden plainness to his silver beauty. "He can only read an' write our language, but I already know four others!" The silver kit flicked his ears irritably. Why did she always try to compete with him?
Kensaku wasn't impressed. He kept his eyes on the kit as he rose from his seat and walked over to the silver Youko and Junko, who took a step back as Kensaku knelt before the kit and seized his chin gently, turning his face from side to side. "Lovely," he murmured, catching his youngest brother's eyes with his own and smiling. "Truly exquisite. I'll bet he's just as marvelous in bed as everyone says."
Junko cleared her throat loudly and stepped around Kensaku to place the kit's food on the table. "I've got to get back to work..." She shot her little brother an uneasy glance. "You eat quick and get back to work, you hear?" He nodded obediently, and she turned and quickly left.
Kensaku chuckled, lifting the little kit into his arms. "You want to sit by me?" He whispered into his ear. He nodded uncertainly as Kensaku sat back down, the tiny Youko cradled in his arms. Shiyo watched him like a vulture would watch a dying thing, but her earlier attitude had lightened considerably; now she boasted of her brother's charm and praised his beauty, almost as if she were responsible for his good looks. Shaking his head he forced himself to concentrate on the meal. It wasn't often he got this much food in a single day, and he would need the strength.
He figured it would be a long night.
Clutching his prize tightly against him, trying to stifle a yawn, the kit scampered down the deserted corridors of the brothel. This was the section that served as the home of his father's many children. It's a good thing there usually aren't more than 17 of us here at a time, he thought with a wry smile. There's barely enough room as it is- if everyone was here, there wouldn't be enough room to fit the clients in... we'd have to deliver satisfaction in the confort of their own homes! Actually, he'd done it before, and thought it might be better that way. People tended to be more generous when surrounded by their own wealth.
He paused in front of Junko's room, yawning loudly and knuckling his back. What a night! It had been busier than usual; it was already well into the morning, and he'd only just finished with his last client. Luckily, the fellow was one of the kit's regulars, and had been very understanding of the Youko's exhaustion. But, as his father often said, "When business is good, the workers are happy". He'd made two silver coins and thirteen copper pennies in tips, and the last fellow had given him a box of candy, which he planned to share with Junko.
The Youko was forced to stretch to reach the doorknob, and he cursed the height of the damned things. Must they be placed so far up? He gave the knob a sharp twist and tumbled into Junko's room as the door swung open. And immediately wished he had gone to his own room and slept.
Junko was slumped on the floor in the middle of the room, Kensaku standing over her. His hands were around her throat.
Kensaku looked up and the kit laid his ears back, growling deep in his throat. Kensaku let Junko's lifeless corpse go and tilted his head, watching the kit with an almost quizzical expression. "So, kid, what brings you here this late hour?" He gestured for the Youko to come to him. "Been a busy night?"
The kit warily moved toward his older brother, skirting the body of his favorite sister. Kensaku pulled him into a tight hug. "I just finished my last session for the night." The kit mumbled, laying his head against the black-haired Youko's shoulder. "I was just gonna say goodnight.." Kensaku nodded and stood, cradling the silver kit in much the same way his sister had only a few hours earlier.
His smile was slow and friendly. "You wanna keep me company tonight? Hmm? I can make you real warm."
The kit curled tightly in Kensaku's arms, eyes squeezed shut to avoid looking at his dead sister. "H-hai." A sharp pang of guilt shot through him. He felt as though he was betraying Junko by assenting, but... hey, it was survival of the fittest, right? Or at least the cutest. So when Kensako dropped him lightly on Junko's bed and lie beside him, the kit nuzzled his brother and gave him his most charming smile. He was going to have to work hard; Kensaku expected a lot, and he didn't want to disappoint him, lest he meet the same fate as his poor, dead sister.
"I'm telling you, man, it isn't worth that much!" Kostas pounded one hand on his desk for emphasis. The thief sitting across from him merely smiled serenely. "Nonsense, Kostas. The artifact is certainly worth fifty gold pieces." Kostas forced a smile to his face. Inwardly, he seethed.
"Very well," he said amiably, taking a seat. He carefully folded his hands on the desk, eyes fixed on his temporary partner, Kuronue. His teeth were clenched in an effort to maintain a friendly appearance. The item in question was a magical artifact dated back 2,000 years. It was a piece of jewelry that would steal into a person's memories and allow the wearer to take the appearance of that person's loved one. It wasn't worth more than twenty gold pieces, if that. He knew Kuronue was very much aware of this; the damn thief was just trying to wring some extra money out of him. But Kostas was no fool, to be cheated by some imbecile, dirty thief. "I am unable to spend that amount on such a.. simple thing, when I can gain the same results with a spellbook and some herbs. I will, however, offer you a lower but reasonable price.. twenty-four in gold and five in silver."
"WHAT?" This time it was Kuronue who leapt to his feet. "'Reasonable'? You call that reasonable? That's theft!" Abruptly he sat back down, the irony of his statement hitting him like a slap in the face. A grimace tugged at his lips and he bowed his head. "Perhaps I did overcharge a little. But I will not except any less than forty in gold." The thief, may all the gods damn him, sounded perfectly reasonable. 'Here is some candy, child. But give me a priceless jewel for it first'.
Kostas bared his teeth in a parody of a smile. If that was the way he wanted to play... His ears flicked forward as someone knocked on the door. "Come in," he called irritably.
The door cracked slightly and his youngest son poked his had in. "Papa?"
Kuronue half turned in his seat to get a better look at the silver kit, jaw hanging. Kostas smiled in genuine pleasure, irritation forgotten as he watched the thief watching his son. The boy attracted attention wherever he went. Only a few years out of diapers, the boy was one of the most beautiful creatures to be seen anywhere in the Makai: long, shimmering silver hair flowed down his back, framing a pale, delicate face with large golden eyes, plump, pale pink lips, and a most charming smile. He moved with unnatural grace, and his body lacked the telltale baby fat most children possessed. Indeed, he was built more like a miniature adult than a child. And he was intelligent; that was a definite plus in Kostas' book.
Like just about everyone who encountered him, Kuronue fell under the spell of the boy's beauty immediately. While the thief stuttered out a greeting, Kostas urged his son further into the room with a gesture. He crouched and held out his arms to his son.
Glancing curiously at Kuronue, the kit obediently flung himself into his father's arms. "Kuronue, I'd like you to meet my youngest son." Standing, he offered the boy to Kuronue. "Son, this is one of Papa's business partners. We're haggling on a price right now, but we should be finished soon."
The kit understood immediately. As Kuronue took the kit and cradled him reverently in his arms, he gave the thief his most charming smile. "Nice to meet you, Kuronue-san." The kit cuddled against him, tilting one ears at his father. "Papa, Gishou-san is here."
Kostas nodded. "Can we finish this up, Kuronue? I hate to be rude, but I have some very important business to discuss with Gishou. So let us settle on a price, and I'll leave my darling boy to entertain you while I conduct my other business."
The deal was quickly brought to closure. Kuronue, eager to get the kit alone, agreed to a price only a few silvers more than Kostas had offered. Tucking the artifact into his pocket, Kostas gave his son a pat on the head and a wink, with a muttered "Only half an hour, boy."
All in all, he felt extremely satisfied. And once Kuronue was exposed to Kurama's skills, he'd be very agreeable to future deals. Kostas chuckled softly. It was nice to have children you could be proud of.
"Doesn't this ever bother you?"
The kit lifted an eyebrow quizzically. "Doesn't what ever bother me?"
"This," Kuronue's gesture took in everything. "Working in this place, being forced to give pleasure while you get none yourself. Doesn't it ever bother you that your father gains profits while all you gain is another person to fuck?"
The kit puzzled over this for a few moments. "Should it?"
"Of course it should! People can't live like this- it's practically slavery!" The kit shook his head in silent denial. "It is, trust me. I mean, look at you: you don't even have a name! You're just "the boy". And you can't chose your own clients, they get chosen for you. And you don't even get to keep the money you earned."
"I get to keep tips."
Kuronue gave him an exasperated look. "Jeez, boy, you're really dense, you know that?"
The kit shook his head again. "No. It isn't that bad working here. And besides, what would I do if I ever got out of here? Be a street whore, a target, unable to defend myself if someone doesn't want to pay? I think not."
Kuronue took the kit's hand in his own, gently massaging them. "You've got beautiful hands- so slim and graceful. I'll bet you'd make a wonderful thief."
The boy smiled. "A thief? Me?" He laughed, delighted, and Kuronue tilted his head. "I wouldn't know where to start. And what does being a thief have to do with my hands?"
Kuronue laughed, too. "A lot more than you'd think. The mark of a great thief, my friend, is quick, graceful, and clever hands." He held up one of his own for the kit to admire. "They say you can tell whether a person is graceful just by looking at their hands. Slow, clumsy people have no business being thieves." He leaned close to the kit. "I can tell you're going to be graceful, boy. I can see it in your hands, the way you move... you'll make a fine thief someday."
The boy was still a bit skeptical. "All right, so say I decide to become a thief. Then what would I do?"
"Why, you'd stick with me, of course. I'll make you the greatest thief the Makai has ever seen!"
Dressed all in white, the kit pressed himself against the wall to avoid notice. Kuronue had taught him the basics of pick-pocketing, and he wanted to test his new skills. But not inside the brothel. It was a slow day, and hopefully his presence wouldn't be missed.
He slid out the back door, into the courtyard and stables behind the brothel. He was barefoot, and the cobblestones were hot under his unprotected feet. It was only nine in the morning, and already the sun had turned the normally cool courtyard into a furnace. It was going to be a very hot day.
That was good, though. Kuronue said that on really warm days people were less likely to notice someone cut the strings to their belt pouch. So the kit darted unnoticed through the early morning crowds, searching for an easy target to start with. His eyes landed on an extraordinarily ugly women with thick horns curling on either side of her head and a large, blunt snout. He slipped up beside her, shading his eyes to get a better look at her face. Her focus was on some far-away point, her eyes blank. Good. She was less likely to notice him for it. He lowered his gaze to her belt pouch, which was good-sized and bulged slightly. Even better.
Slightly apprehensive, the kit removed his small knife from its sheath. A quick glance to make sure no one was looking, than he brought the knife up and cut the strings to the pouch in a single clean stroke. The pouch fell into the kit's waiting hands, and the woman with the horns never noticed a thing.
Elated, the kit turned abruptly, almost running into someone. A giggle escaped his throat and he darted around the man and began jogging, the youkai's curses following him through the streets.
The city itself caught his attention next. A port city, the scent of ocean was heavy on the air. A cool, salty breeze eased the heat somewhat. The buildings were all shades of white and gray, and well-kept. Very little trash lined the clean streets. Hawkers peddled their wares on the streets, holding up ribbons, pins, and bolts of cloth for people passing by to examine, and peddler's booths lined the street. All in all, it was one of the more prosperous cities in the Makai.
The kit slowed to a walk, head tilted up to catch the breeze, the belt pouch still clutched in his hands. He'd never walked these streets without somewhere to go, being herded by one of his siblings to their destination. It felt good to just be, with no purpose other than to enjoy himself. He'd planned on going straight back to the brothel once his task was accomplished, but now he reconsidered. What was a little punishment compared to this wonderful sense of freedom?
Now he opened the pouch and began to paw through it: many silver and copper coins, a few uncut gems, and a piece of folded paper with writing on it. He unfolded it and tried to puzzle out the ink squiggles, but to no avail. A deep feeling a frustration welled in the pit of his stomach. The only language he could read was his own Youko one. It bothered him that Shiyo had received schooling in such matters, while he had been taught how to pleasure clients. Kuronue was right, damnit! It just wasn't fair!
His good mood ruined, he refolded the paper and shoved it back into the woman's- no, his- pouch. He tucked it into his tunic, as Kuronue had suggested. "The safest place to put anything,", he'd told the kit. "is in your shirt or your pants. Any place else, and your average pickpocket will be able to snatch it. But if it's under your shirt or down your pants, they'd have to be pretty damn good to get it."
He wandered the streets for a while. His mind, like that of any other child, was easily distracted, and soon his bad mood had disappeared. He stopped at a few of the peddler's booths, sometimes buying something that caught his fancy. By noon, he was the proud owner of a shiny belt buckle, a bag of candies, a music box (he'd had to use one of the uncut gems to purchase it), another pouch filled with coins (stolen from someone in the shop where he'd gotten the music box), a large square of rough wool to wrap it all in, and a new pair of leather boots. He considered the last to be the best by far. They were made of tough leather that would last for years, and were dyed a beautiful bright blue. And wearing them made walking the cobblestone streets a lot easier on his poor feet.
Presently his stomach rumbled; he hadn't eaten breakfast, and all that walking had begun to take its toll. A nearby booth was selling pastries, and the kit's nose twitched at the heavenly smells wafting towards him. A few copper coins secured him three of the pastries, and he found himself a bench not to far from the booth where he could be seated comfortably and eat his food in peace.
He tucked his legs up underneath him, nibbling daintily on one of the pastries. Nearby, a woman in the robes of a journeyman priestess of the Order of Mishkala, the Goddess of healing, was collecting money for her church. He paid her very little attention, keeping his eyes on his newly purchased things.
Rough laughter drew his eyes back to the woman, and he noted with a start that she was Youko. Three rough-looking youkai surrounded her, mocking her. "I'll give you money, wench," one of them said, "if you spread those pretty legs a' yours fer me an' my friends." The other two laughed, and the one who had spoken kicked the collection plate, scattering the coins. "No? Well, then, me an' my friends'll just take our business elsewhere!"
The Youko woman watched with tears in her eyes as the three men walked away. Sniffling, she began to gather the coins up and put them back into the plate. The kit considered, then grabbed his things and slipped off the bench. The woman flinched as he came near, as if expecting him to taunt her. Instead, he set his belongings down next to the plate and helped her pick up the coins. Once they were all back in the plate, the kit rocked back on his heels, Kuronue's question echoing in his mind. "Why?"
The Youko woman blinked in confusion. "Why did you let them do that? Why didn't you defend yourself?"
She smiled wearily. "Because violence isn't an answer, child." She shook her head slowly. "Our world is so full of violence, everyone takes it for granted. No one cares if someone is hurt or killed. The Order of Mishkala wants to change that: we want to make the world a safer place, where everybody cares about everyone else and no one is violent, ever."
The kit didn't think the Order of Mishkala could accomplish anything of the sort, but he smiled anyway. "It sounds nice."
She smiled back. "Yes, it does, doesn't it? I'm Ginko, by the way."
He took Ginko's hand and shook it. "A pleasure to meet you, Ginko."
She gave him a puzzled look. "Aren't you going to tell me your name?"
He tilted his head, ears back. The lack of a name had never really bothered him, but now he felt somewhat embarrassed. "Ah... everyone just calls me 'boy'."
Understanding sparked in her eyes. Her expression became one of compassion. "I see."
Not wanting her sympathy, he grabbed one of the uneaten pastries and offered it to Ginko. She took the proffered treat with a warm grin. Suddenly feeling extremely generous, he fished five silver coins and one of the uncut gems from his pouches and dropped them into the collection plate.
Her eyes widened with surprise and she gasped. Seeing her delight made him feel like laughing. It was a wonderful feeling. Bowing to her from the waist, he gave her a cheeky grin and scampered off into the crowd, laughter bubbling up from within him like water from a hot spring.
.
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[1] The currency used is rather simple: gold pieces (coins) are worth the most, silver comes after that, and then copper.
