Chapter Text
It began with the shaking of the hands.
a rash movement that impeded him throughout the following nights, then underneath the gauze, the reddening of the hands as it tip-toed its way across the rest of his body from where he scratched like a habitual holy ritual. Lastly, came the fevers and visions that set a weary haze in his mind, red with blood and grasping hands.
Trauma Shinobu-san called them, the remnants of nightmares and past memories that are destined to fizzle out like embers. After that fateful night at the Mugen train, such things were bound to happen. These dreams however, were never called such by Kyojuro. Instead he liked to call them…… reminders.
Kyojuro….
Kyojuro…
Kyojuro…save yourself
Kyojuro-become a demon
White hot pain, a smile in the shape of a jagged slash, the feeling of flesh yielding under raging fist and…and
Kyojuro
Wake up
Kyojuro hurled himself over the bed, heart beating like a drum ready for reckoning as his hands raised to choke, the figure, to destroy this monster from its very existence…. His fist closed around the intruder….and then fell through the air.
Right.
There was no intruder.
He was seeing things again.
He had worked himself into a sweat, and the cold realisation that the dream had left him falling onto his back in the twisted sheets. Kyojuro signed relaxing into total concentration breathing, which had turned erratic during his sleep.
It took him a few moments, before the figure he was sure was crouched above his bed had faded from his memories. He focused on kochos words that rang in his mind. They were projections of his mind, eye playing tricks on him. That's all it was.
His breath hitched as his breath dipped in tempo. His breathing was no longer strained, but he still couldn't maintain the constant steady breaths.
It bothered him that after he had sustained his injuries, he could not properly do total concentration constant, one of the first things he mastered before he became hashira. Though he had been able to do it without a second thought during the days, when night began, he couldn't sleep without falling into harsh unsteady breaths that were near to hyperventilation.
Speaking of his injuries, his hand rose to softly touch his face, and he sighed when it felt cloth. The nauseous blurriness of his left eye was worse than soiling through muck, unseeable and foggy. It made him dizzy, as if the world around him spun, mocking him.
At least they replaced the bandage, the innate darkness made him feel more comforted than the patches of desperate light that filtered through the linen.
He didn't mind the eyepatch. Not really. He was forever grateful that Kocho had sewn it for him, and of course the hours of surgery she performed to keep his life after the Mugen train incident. Still he sometimes felt like he never left. The eyepatch was a reminder, his body, despite all its healing, was always waiting for the next fatal blow, the one that would stop his heart forever.
The sun, the saviour that had forced that demon to pull his last punch, the one that certainly would have gone through his stomach, felt like it was boring into him, rotting his knees with its very gaze as he slowly wasted away.
He sometimes wondered if the demon would praise him now if he saw him? His skill was worse than before his injuries. Even then he failed to kill the uppermoon.
Such thoughts were dangerous.
Still he would have gladly sustained more injuries to save the lives of the innocent. The relief as they reunited with their loved ones would have made him die without fear and a smile on his face. He did not know why such dark musings kept him up during the night with a hand on his sword. Even he did so when he could barely move with the chronic pain that first few nights. Maybe it was the fear of its voice that revealed itself in his dreams.
“Don't die on me, Kyojuro”
“Let us fight for all of eternity”
Enough with the thoughts, Kyojuro swung his legs to the side of the bed and stood up. Despite being in a hospital futon at the butterfly mansion, most of his non-permanent injuries have long since healed. Oyakata-sama had cleared him for missions himself over two weeks ago, though he had not taken up any just yet. No, the reason he was still here was because he had nowhere else to go. His father had banned him from coming to the estate, after he reported to him about the failure of his mission.
The face of disgust his father had worn in his drunken stupor when he looked upon Kyojuros eyepatch, was enough for his smile to falter beside Senjuro.
Speaking of his brother, his legs moved subconsciously to the quaint writing desk in the polished corner of the room. He began his little routine of fumbling with the brass knobs of the drawers, before flattening the parchment to write a letter for his brother.
He hated leaving his brother with his father, who had less kind words to Senjuro than himself. Not that he hated his father. No matter what his father had done, he hated the actions, not the man. His grief for his mother was still like a fresh wound to him, being torn open again and again every time it tried to close itself up. Kyojuro had accepted his mothers death, though it aches anytime a flash of dark hair and calm red eyes reminded him of her.
He turned the screw of the lamp, its embers igniting instantaneously, a visual reckoning of his breathing style, but more calm and subdued. He turned it until the smell of oil wafted in every crack of the room. When he looked down it seemed that his hand had moved on its own, blots of ink in vast scrawls against the yellowing board. He scribbled them all out.
Soft scratches of ink on parchment filled the room as he went about forming kanji with his quill, composing a letter to his brother, acting as if he was still there, like responding to his letter before and asking how his day was, and when he could visit the mansion.
He had read the letter from the previous night, which involved Senjuro talking in more detail about his fathers habits, which seemed like he was slowly withdrawing from the alcohol after Tanjiros visit. But such news was followed up by his drunken rage that had not dissipated anytime Kyojuro was brought up.
"Still" his brother had written "There is still hope that he will allow you to come back soon."
He held the paper close to his eye before and struggled to see the form of shape. Once he had read them, he watched as the paper creased and crumpled as his hands shook. Calming himself with a breath, he set the folded parchment down.
His brother seemed to have penned in a hurry, no doubt his fathers doing seeing how short his newest addition was to the stacked letters on his desk.
"How can I protect him when I can't be there? How can I make his eyes light up with a smile?"
All of this ended when he decided to go for a simple approach of not even acknowledging the previous letter where his brother expressed his hope, intently leaving out reminding Senjuro that he had failed; and failure to kill an uppermoon was as good as death to his father.
He sealed the letter, fumbling with the wax before finally stamping it with the rengoku family sigil. The letter felt heavy when he slid it into his robe..
He was just about to find the warm steam of freshly made soup that was typically made by Aoi in the early mornings….. when there was rapid knocking on his door.
“Come in!” He replied, mustering up his usual vigour.
A little girl came bursting through, and he recognized Kiyo from her ornate hairpins the same moment he realised there were tears in her eyes. What was it that caused this,a demon? His blade was already halfway out of his sheath when he realised he did not sense one.
“What is the matter?” He said, crouching down to her level. She rubbed fiercely at her eyes, as she broke down in sobs. Kyojuro frowned, placing hands on her shoulder, unsure how to comfort her, like he often does for Senjuro.
“What is wrong Kiyo?” He asked once more, waiting patiently for her to stop stumbling upon her words. Finally her lips quivered before she cried out. “Aoi! She-"Kyojuro kept her still as she swayed. “is being kidnapped!”
He was instantly back on his feet, his brows furrowed in anger that was unusual for himself. Kidnapped? How could Aoi be taken by such a fiend? Who dared enter this humble place and steal innocent children like Kiyo?
“Do you know who did it?” Kyojuro urged as he crouched back down to her level once more.
“He was a very tall man” was all she was able to whisper before tears flooded her eyes once more. So, this was no demon, but it might as well have been one of them.
“Where did you see them last?” he asked more softly this time, quieting her sniffles as he tucked her hair behind her ear where her braid was getting soaked with tears.
“Out near the entrance” she cried, latching onto his robe. He took this moment to heft her up into the crook of his arms, which his steady hand silenced her.
Despite his worries, his first order of duty was to soothe her. “Do not fret! We will save her. Together” He reassured.
Once he had her secured her frame, he walked out to the empty hallway. It was practically silent but he could hear the faint sound of commotion from outside. “Okay” he muttered then turned to Kiyo. “I’m going to need you to hold on tight to my arm, can you do that for me?” he whispered.
She nodded faintly, her grip tightening. He took in a breath, then bolted down the hallway, the only sign that Kiyo was scared was the quick yelp she made before he truly set off. He ran as fast as he could without destroying the shoji walls as Kiyo whispered her directions into his ears. He came to the front entrance, its polished doors swung wide open. He put his left hand on the hilt of his blade, fully prepared to swing a sword if necessary, and reprimand this man.
He covered the girl's face as they barged outside, shielding her from the glare of the sun as if burned upon the crown of his head.
He blinked once
Twice.
Then he nearly gawked.
“Uzui?”
The sight that greeted him was near chaos.
His closest friend, the infamous sound pillar was being swarmed by little girls, their gifted butterfly pins bobbed as they beat and tried to tackle the man. If they were any taller he was sure they would be trying to rip the silk out of his silvery hair. Shinobu's timid tsuguko was tugging harshly at Aoi's hand, trying to free her from….wait why was Aoi being carried over Tenegen’s shoulder? He rubbed his hand blinking rapidly as even more chaos entered the fray as the kamado boy entered looking just as confused as he.
He put down Kiyo and patted her head to see exactly what was going on. Yet suddenly he saw Kamado on the ground with the rest of the butterfly girls falling on top of them. He figured out exactly what happened when he looked away from the havoc. Did tanjiro seriously try to headbutt one of the fastest pillars? If he wasn't so bemused he would laugh.
“Let them go, you lousy kidnapper!” Tanjiro yelled, causing Kyojuro to snap the pieces into place. Tengen was the kidnapper that Kiyo was talking about.
“Uzui! My friend!” He called out, causing everyone to turn as he walked out of the sunlight. He saw the pillar's eyes widen where he was perched on the dark wooden gateway. “I must say I am surprised you, a hashira, would stoop so low as to kidnap little girls.”
He watched as Uzuis face dipped into an expression akin to a child being lectured by a parent. “Kyojuro! Long time no see!”
“We saw each other last week”
Tengen threw him a flashy smile. “Thats long to me”
He shook his head. “Don't try to flatter me. You made a little girl cry.”
Tengen glanced a frustrated look at Kiyo. As he did, Kyojuro observed the cords of his muscles in his body tense, pulled extremely tight as if they were under high stress. Something was wrong, his friend was acting uncharacteristic of him. The normal tengen would not try and take these girls.
“Tengen-san” he said, switching to formalities to convey that he was serious despite his plastered smile. “What are you even doing?”
He walked beside the kamado boy and put a hand on his shoulder to calm him. He really did not need a fight to break out between the sound pillar and his potential tsuguko. That's a fight the boy would certainly not win.
“I need them for a mission.”
“There are female demonslayers you can use.”
“But they are part of the corps are they not?”
Kyojuro pointed a finger at the girl with the green bow and braids. “Naho is not a corps member. Look at her outfit, she is not wearing a uniform.”
Uzui glanced down his face twisting into annoyance on his usual elated features. “I don't need her then.”
Suddenly he threw her off his perch and his eyes widened, having just enough time to catch her safely in his arms.
“Uzui Tengen!” Kyojuro yelled, looking him in the eye. Despite the nonchalant facade he recognized that his friend was desperate for this mission. But why?
“That's enough fooling around Tengen-san, come down from there and give back Aoi. There is certainly a better way to go about this.”
“No, I don't think I will. She's coming with me.” As he said this he raised his hand...and smacked Aoi in the ass.
Kyojuro nearly let his head fall into his hands. Uzui…had a habit of doing that act to all the hashira. Of course mostly he did it to kyojuro, or someone he knew would piss them off like sanemi and confuse gyomei. He had done it to everyone, even poor muichiro. When he had done it to shinobu, he was pretty sure the reason tengen threw up so much that night was because she poisoned him.
Just before he could comment how it was really not a good idea to smack a sixteen year old like that because it could get misinterpreted, there was the sound of rushing wind and pattering feet. The boar and yellow boy spike into the air and land side by side with their companion. Kyojuro can't help but puff in pride at how his youngsters had grown so coordinated.
Tengen did not look impressed.
“Let her go-you-you creep!”
“Creep?” Tengen replied incredulously.
“Yeah you heard him! Let Aoi go!'' Inosuke huffed, pointing his chipped blades as if the sound pillar was going to impale himself on to it.
Before Kyojuro could again stop another following disagreement, Tanjiro spoke up. “If you need someone for the mission so badly, How about this? We will go with you instead.”
Kyojuro snapped his fingers. “Of course! These boys will be perfect for whatever mission you are needing then those that are inexperienced." Then he himself gave Uzui a reassuring smile. “I myself can go with you on this mission. You might need an extra pillar.”
For a moment, he was worried his friend was going to stay stubborn and reject the offer. Suddenly before he could track his movements Tengen was in front of him, leering down with his usual fond smile. “This is why I have you around, you always have the best ideas.”
He said, completely ignoring that Tanjiro was the one who thought of such an idea.
He placed Aoi down, who promptly dashed to Kanao's side. Kyojuro tried to throw her a smile, but suddenly Uzui was throwing him into a hug. He leaned close to his ear, and Tengen whispered so no one else could hear. “I thank you, but have you fully healed from your injuries?”
Kyojuro clapped him on the back. “You worry too much. I will manage.”
“Your friends with that guy?” Zenitsu screeched an accusing finger as both of them began to walk side by side as the two led the boys out the gate.
He whipped around, the taller man leeming over his peers.”Yeah and? Who do you think you are to question a god?”
Everyone's mouths hung open, except kyojuro who only smiled brightly.
‘Listen up!” His friend continued berating his mantra into their heads. “I am a god. You three are trash! That is the first and only thing you need to know.”
Tanjiro naively raised his hand. “And what are you the god of?”
Kyojuro laughed, interrupting his friend before he could boast into a speech about how he is the god of festivals “I don't think that's quite what he means.”
“It's exactly what it means!” Tengen flexed, punching Kyojuro lightly in the shoulder.
He shook his head. “Now since we are all here and misunderstandings have been cleared, care to explain to us what the mission is?”
Uzui cocked his head with a grin. Instead of actually answering the obvious question, Tengen, bolted, yelling “follow me” as his steps erupted with firework-like trails, bright enough to challenge the sunlight
Kyojuro, expecting this, threw one last small smile to the trio with a quip “Keep up my tsuguko” before he chased after him.
It wasn't before long he paced with the other man who had slowed his running tempo just enough for Kyojuro to run comfortably beside him. He looked back to see his fellow companions' dark dots in the distance.
“Did you run just so you don't have to tell us?”
“Nah” he chuckled. “Just them”
He waited, then sighed when he realised he would still have to prompt him into telling him the situation. “So? What is wrong? And don't try to deny it. I know this mission is very vital, otherwise you wouldn't be so desperate to send off inexperienced girls to the mission.
Tengen sighed. “I’m not desperate.”
“Talk to me, Uzui. I am here for you.”
He ignored his remark “We are going to the red-light district, otherwise known as the pleasure quarters of the entertainment district. The-”
“The red light district?”
“What?” Tengen laughed. “Are you so uncultured that you do not know what the red light district is?”
“No! I was just questioning your sanity. You thought it was a good idea to bring little girls to something known as the pleasure quarters?”
Tengen glared at him, but with no real malice behind it. “Such is what I was willing to do.”
Kyojuro pressed his lips tightly together before asking; “But why?”
Tengen looked like he wasn't going to answer. But then he looked up at the sky as if the gods were going to strike him with new confidence once more.
“Hin-” His voice broke, not used to the vulnerability, “Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma have gone missing. I sent them on a mission months ago-to the district I just mentioned. Unfortunately the new reached me too late”
He felt his heart plummet. Tengens wives were his friends too, and the thought of them captured or even worse ... .stoked a hot white rage in his belly.
“We thought there was a high ranking demon that had somehow infiltrated one of the houses. And…..”
Rengoku cast another look, one that encouraged him to keep going.
“They stopped writing letters or any updates. Suma was the first, she was close to finding its identity, and then Makio, and finally…Hinatsuro. The letter she was supposed to write never came today. That is why we need to go now.”
He nodded. He understood. “They are trained shinobi. They will be fine, Tengen-san.”
“They are not demonslayers” Uzui pointed out, looking at his hands with a forlorn expression.
“Then we will slaughter any demon that dares touch them” Rengoku said the words with a confident smile. “We will get them back, Uzui. I know it." He knew that if something bad happened to him they both would not forgive themselves.
He sighed, and he watched whatever vulnerability that was shown plainly on his face was quickly smothered by his shit-eating grin. “Of course. That's what we do.”
-
They had entered through the outermost part of the district upon a state carriage plated with gold and velvet seats. He had to hand it to Uzui, he was always able to negotiate to get what he wanted, but even such luxury for a mission was excessive. Especially since it was going to be wasted, by the fact that Inosuke kept trying to run off in a dazed wonder at every light, lantern or thing that shone.
The city opened up as they gathered closer to the core of the district, Its streets billowed with oil paper parcels, fans and hats. The colourful dyes of the higher class kimonos smeared together, bright enough to make him blink. Hair here was waxed and wound into ostensive styles, adorned with glass dragonfly pins, and neatly golden polished hair clips. Garments too were slippery and lustrous, so when the wearer moved they glistened in the night.
Even lotus, spider-lilies and an assortment of wild flowers found in the east danced upon some of the ladies' hairs, mostly upon the courtesans that waved giggling from the balconies. Kyojuro waved back.
Tenegen snorted from where he sat. “We are here for a mission, not to get you a wife.”
Kyojuro frowned. “I was being polite?”
“Everything here is out of carnal desire. Everything is seen that way. I am sure those women are now waiting for you to make your way over to their house to buy their time.”
He groaned, leaning back on the seat. “Well that is not my intention. I wish I could tell them so.”
“Well don't get your hopes up.” Tengen laughed, shaking his hair that was striking as ever, but now even more so when he had let it down to his shoulder. “You'll be joining them soon.”
Kyojuros gaze snapped to his friend. “What do you mean “joining”
soon?”
This got the other three's attention. Tanjiro looked up from where he was sitting on a wriggling Inosuke that he was trying to keep still.
“Wait, I don't understand Tengen-Sama. Does this have to do with the mission?”
Uzui looked only slightly guilty from where he grinned impishly. “Ah yes. I may have forgotten to fully discuss your part in the mission.”
“Which is?” He prompted raising his eyebrows.
“You four are going to be Oirans!” Uzui announced. “Well actually just courtesans and probably the ones with less beauty geishas” He said pointing at the yellow haired boy who only replied with a snarky “exscuse me?”
“Oirans.”
“Well not really” Uzui mused. “Most of you except Kyojuro are to ugly to have such a title anyway. Besides you will be going undercover for hopefully only a couple weeks.”
Zenitsu gave him a deadpan stare. “So you're saying you want us to dress as girls?”
Kyojuro was more concerned by the fact they would be dressing up as courtesans and geisha to entertain perverted men than the fact he would be wearing women's garments. But still he beamed at his friend. “Excellent idea, is that what you had your wives disguise themselves as?”
“Yes. We suspect the demon has also disguised itself as such. It only makes sense you will follow exactly what they did so we can find out how they were captured. Then you can simply report to me and we can devise a flashy plan”
“There's only one problem.” He let out a hearty chuckle. “How am I going to disguise myself as a woman? I look to much like a man.”
All he could see was his fingernails bitten raw, knurled with faint scars. How could he possibly be seen attractive in such a light for his plan to work.
He opened his mouth to convince his friend that he could just report with him when Zenitsu let out a grating screech.
“Did rengoku-san just say your wives? In plural” He interrupted, and Kyojuro frowned. Why was the yellow boy’s voice shaking with anger?
Tengen did not seem to get the hint. “Yeah in reference to my three wives?” he reminded, flicking the boy in his head. “That's the whole reason we are here.”
“Three, THREE?”
Kyojuro barely had enough time to catch Zenitsu from lunging across the carriage to throttle him.
Later, after witnessing the constant screaming match between his friend and the potential thunder tsuguko, the carriage halts at a small building with modest shoji doors and pale lighting. After wrangling the trio inside with the help of Tanjiro, Uzui motions them to an even smaller room.
“Hm! I expected something more flashy.”
“Well not all my stuff is here” Tengen groaned after mentioning that he had rented this berth for the time being. “And I want to keep a low profile.”
After finally settling down, and placing there swords in traditional fashion, they waited expectantly for further instruction.
“Well then!” Uzui said, clapping his polished hands together. “Who shall go first?”
“For what?” Tanjiro asked.
Tengens eyes gleamed. “Looks like we have a volunteer.”
Turns out tanjiro went first, tengen dragging him into a separate room. He felt some sympathy for the kamado, he could hear his friend barking insults at the poor boy as he waited patiently with the other too, having to sit in the middle to stop a fight from breaking out.
Then a half hour later, tanjiro still did not emerge, but zenitsu was pulled into the room, leaving him with the box that held a sleeping nezuko and the boar boy.
“So!” he chuckled. “What do you think is happening there?”
Inosuke looked haunted. “They are being slowly tortured before a painful death.”
Kyojuro decided to stop talking after that and another half-hour, longer than Tanjiros time, passed in complete silence.
Soon after, Inosuke charged into the room.
The amount of screaming that ensued made Kyojuro think that perhaps the boar was correct.
Finally, while he was in the middle of polishing his sword out of boredom, the trio was huddled out by a familiar tall figure.
“So what do you think kyojuro?”
He couldn't help but wince as he looked down at them. His first thought was what has he done to you? And is that even makeup?
Lipstick was smeared over the lines of their lips, sticking to the whites of their teeth. Eyeshadow dripped unshaded, dusting their eyelashes that crumbled upon the lid. The plastered grins they wore in no way were not forced by the perpetrator.
The only words he could manage to stop himself from falling into a fit of tears and laughter was. “How nice!”
None of the boys looked happy with this response.
“Now” Uzui pointed a finger at him. “It's your turn”
Suddenly his sweat began to drip down his neck. “How about we reconsider this. We only need three to enter the houses. To have another hashira on stand by would be much more valuable-”
“Kyojuro” Uzui warned. “You promised.”
He didnt remember promising anything but he sighed and got up anyway to enter the mysterious torture chamber.
As soon as he got inside and saw the array of makeup bags strewn on the floor like torture devices he began to protest. “I suggest you don't put heavy makeup on me. It might only make me seem more plethoric and-
Tengen seemed to be holding in a laugh. “What makes you think I’m that bad at putting on makeup?”
Kyojuro is an honest man. “Have you seen their faces?”
This time he did snicker. “Yeah and it turned out exactly how I wanted too. I truly am a master at what I do?”
“Wait-” Kyojuros expression tightened in confusion. “You did that on purpose?”
The man looked behind him to make sure the door was closed and the others were not listening before replying “They did move around quite a lot” Uzui shrugged before he devolved into full belly laughs. “But yes, I did. My wives taught me well enough”
“This is a high stake mission, Uzui!” He reminded him without mentioning his wive’s risk. “We have no time for fooling around”
“That is exactly why I'm not wasting my time on them. They are low rank demonslayers and will probably not commit to anything useful to the mission either way. Besides, I don't need them to look pretty to sell them.”
“And how do you plan on doing that?” He defended, biting down the urge to defend his juniors.
He turned and gave Kyojuro a flashy smile. “With my handsome face of course. The ladies will be falling over themselves to try and buy them.”
He suppressed an eye roll before shaking his head. “I won't be letting you turn me into a mock entertainer.”
“The whole reason I didn't spend all that time on those underlings” He jested before sitting cross legged upon a plush red pillow. “Now I can actually spend time doing the makeup properly.”
He gestured to the pillow opposite of him and he hesitantly sat down.
“Hmmm, what if you just fool around with my face like you did with the others.”
“Nah” Tengen said, picking up a circular flat object. “You're the most important part of our mission. The star of the show.”
“Whatever plan you wish to succeed wont come true if you can't sell me.” he cautioned, reflectively leaning back as he heard the disk open with a click, revealing a mirror and white powder. “No matter how well you know your makeup skills and how much time you take, it can't possibly make me attractive enough to be accepted even on the streets let alone a house known for its famous oiran house. Not even your face can make up for that.”
The brush inches away from his face paused as the sound pillar wore the most bewildered visage he had ever seen on the man's face.
“What?” He asked as he continued to stare.
“Kyojuro '' the other began as if taking a deep breath. ‘You look stunning even in the midst of a battle let alone when you're just standing there being yourself. Hell you can be an oiran if you dared wish to be. So with makeup? You will be making men fall to their knees on sight.”
Heat pricked at the back of his neck. Oh. No one has ever said that to him.
“You're always one for dramatics” he scoffed but did not meet his gaze. “I’m not sure beauty has all to do with this plan though.”
“Your right of course, if it was just that i would have actually done better on the others. We need skill, one that I can trust you wont fuck up with. The plan has all the precision of a trained shinobi.”
Kyojuros nose wrinkled as he aggressively powdered his face with the painted white brush until he was sure the skin underneath was as pale as bone. “Is it necessary to be talking about this over creating a complete mess of my face?”
Tengen, ignoring him, leaned back to admire his work. His eyes lit up with a smug grin. “Wow. I’m not even going to lie, I’m not even a quarter of the way through and you look like a woman.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
Tengen smacked him teasingly in the chest. “I’m not sure how the men are going to resist falling on the spot and proposing to you.
Then he poked his cheek mischievously. “Hey do you want to be my husband Kyojuro Rengoku? Or my wife for that matter?”
He promptly hit the silver haired man’s knee even harder from the obvious tease. “You already have enough. Besides you make it sound as if all these men are desperate for anything.
“How naive, this is the red light district. Of course all of them are just waiting to get there hands on you.”
Kyojuro leaned back in disgust. “When you put it that way it makes me even less excited for this mission.”
“Don't be. Maybe you will even find a charming man you'll find an eye for. Then we can both walk out of here with our lovers.”
Now it was Kyojuros turn to laugh. “Your making it sound all I have to do is wander around the district and such a man will come flocking to me.”
“Just you wait. I’m sure after I'm finished with this, he will”.
—
Meanwhile, a few miles away on the border of the district of vanity, Akaza strides into the city.