Chapter 2

Akira sat at the beach, alone again, watching the waves in silence.
He liked to be alone, to sit alone like this with only his thoughts as company.  He could let his mind wander freely as the lulling sound of the gently breaking waves touched his ears.
He was well known for being here, on the beach, this was his place.  If he was not at home, then he would be here, watching silently the horizon and listening to his beloved waves.
But he liked it that way, he liked being by himself, he chose to be alone and enjoyed his own company.  He liked the peace and quiet that came with being alone.
But after a while, one could find the world became too quiet.  Too lonely and empty for pleasure.
It was far to quiet, he wanted to make some noise for once.

There were many who counted Akira as a friend, but there were far fewer to whom Sendoh returned the mutual honour.  He was social in some ways, always with a ready smile and kind manner, not hesitating to mingle with the crowds.  But he had yet to find someone he could connect with, someone who was the ying to his yang.  Someone intriguing, special, different and challenging.  All that in a partner.  Many might say that they sought for the same thing and laugh with a smile, as if wishing it were true, but Akira sought with the dismal belief that there was such a person, the perfect creature that he could love forever.
He was open minded.  He knew he was searching for a soul mate, a person, that perfect person.  The gender of that person was not a factor he even considered.  If that person was male, then so be it.

The quiet crunch of wet sand beneath boots made him turn his head and watch Koshino walking towards him, a small bounce in his steps and a hesitant smile on his lips.  When Akira met his eyes his smile broadened and he quickened his steps to a jog to join his friend and cousin.
  “Akira.”  He greeted, not sitting down but remaining standing.  Although he kept his voice well under control, Akira could tell by the way he was practically hopping from one foot to another that there was something exciting he wanted to tell him.
  “What is it?”
Koshino dropped onto his hunches and fished two pieces of cards out of his pocket and displayed them in his hands, revealing elaborate gold lettering on the textured surface, glittering in the sun’s fading light.  He smiled a triumphant smile as Akira carefully took the invitation from his unrelenting hands, hesitating slightly as though it might burn him.
  “Interesting.”  He said as he read it, noting the heading and details with a practised eye.
Koshino’s eyes sparkled in mischief, “Aida got them for me – there’s two – I was hoping you’d come.”
  “How’d Aida get them?”
  “I have no idea, who knows what contacts that cousin of ours has.”
Akira was silent for a moment as he thought.  “It’s too risky.”  He said finally, like a last testament.

Koshino’s face plummeted so fast it was painful “but… but… it took me ages to convince Aida to get those!”
  “Don’t be so foolish – think what would happen if we were caught.  I’d rather keep myself bullet free, thank you.”
  “Oh!  Don’t be so melodramatic!  Besides, it’s a masquerade, no one would have any idea who we were.  Live a little, Sendoh Akira!”

Akira sighed in mild annoyance and turned his gaze from the invitations to the horizon again.  Always there, always steady, forever unchanging at the edge of the world.  The fading light at his back made the waves sparkle and dance before him, and a soft ocean breeze was gently caressing his skin, holding the sharp tang of salt mixed with the sweet scent of the newly opened Sakura blossoms.  The crickets chirped relentlessly in the long grasses that grew at the edge of the beach, the only sounds save the quiet breaking of the waves and the breathing of the two boys.  It was a beautiful evening.

“Beautiful evening, isn’t it?”  Koshino said – mirroring Akira’s thoughts and causing the young man to look towards him.  “Full of magic, don’t you think?”
Magic?  Akira frowned to himself.  No, magic was supernatural, it was wrong, freakish.  The air tonight held no magic, only a timeless beauty, the joy of life, the beat of excitement.  You could conquer the world tonight.
  “Possibilities.”
  “Huh?”
  “Possibilities” Akira repeated “that’s what’s in the air tonight.” <A tantalising taste of what might be…>
Koshino gave his cousin a sceptical look.  “What have you been smoking?” he demanded.
Akira laughed and gave the boy a genuine smile of reassurance.  “I’ll come.”
  “What?”
  “I’ll come with you – to the masquerade.  If you’re still up for it, that is.”
  “What!?  Why!?  I mean – that’s great but – but why’d you change your mind?”
  “I just don’t want fate to pass me by – that’s all.” <I’m just a hopeless dreamer…>

Kaede did his best to disappear into the shadows at the side of the hall, but to little avail.
He felt sick.
Everyone was laughing and dancing in a joyous fashion that was so fake it made him cringe.  There was bold, striking colour everywhere, on costumes and on masks, it was making his eyes ache behind his own, very simplistic facial wear.
He had been forced into a kimono, and he felt like an idiot, comforted only by the fact that he insisted the material be black and white, and that he looked rather plain and boring compared to the elaborate costumes of the other guests.

He had a fan in one hand, open and raised to his chest like a barrier, and the other held he mask which he had up to his face at all times to reduce the possibility of recognition.  It wasn’t working as well as he’d hoped – his tall, slim, eye-catching frame was receiving enough attention from both male and female guests, even without the beautiful features of his face revealed.  The looks cast his way were annoying to say the least, but thankfully no one had the courage to approach him.

His father was strutting around like the over-weight, pompous pig he was, Hisashi and Kogure in tow.
He was parading his eldest son, Kaede scorned, disgusted, as if Hisashi wasn’t a son, but a possession – and the elder brother knew it too.  Kaede could see it in his eyes that he didn’t like it, being shown off to rich associates, treated as an asset.

Kaede and Hisashi had never been close.  They were too different, saw things in a different way, and there was a natural hostility between them as they didn’t share the same mother.  But for this short moment, Kaede pitied him.

There was a thirst being to burn in the back of his throat, and so he left his protective shadows, forced into the sharp light unwillingly to relieve his discomfort.
There was a table where brightly coloured women were serving drinks to guests at the far end of the hall, as well as waiters floating around with trays of champagne.  Rukawa felt revolted by the miserable men, perverse smiles on their faces as they wound through the dancers, their eyes on the women.

Kaede winced internally as he digested the thought of being violated merely by their eyes and with an annoyed swish of his skirts at the inconvenience he set out across the room to the drinks table.  

Men’s eyes were made to look
And let them gaze.

Akira tried to squash the nervous feeling in his stomach that came from being amidst his enemies.  He stuck close to Koshino as they moved from the front door into the entrance hall of the mansion.  For several minutes when they’d first entered he’d simply stared, aghast, at the splendour of the place.  There was a grand, sweeping staircase running to the upper floor where he could see couples walking along the way, looking down at the strangers in the entrance way.  A magnificent doorway led the guests into the main reception hall, where a swing band was performing on a high stage and a colourful multitude of guests were swirling around each other on the wooden dance floor.  At the edges of the floor, the wood stopped to be replaced with rich red carpets, thick and vibrant, where the dinning table and chairs stood for people to sit and watch the dancing.  The walls were creamy – like cafe lait.  There were tall tall windows that looked out over the dark gardens and grounds of the house, where gentle lighting highlighted the sparkling fountains on white gravel pathways in the darkness.  Portraits of the Rukawa family ancestors were hung in ornate golden frames between the windows giving the finishing touch to the complete grandeur of the hall.

The round form of Rukawa was easily noticeable in the room where he stood - a thin, bird-like woman on his right, and two handsome young men on his left.  Rukawa was talking animatedly to a couple of men in suits, extending his hand to indicate the two boys by his side by way of introduction, and all four bowed.

Akira found it interesting to notice how the shorter boy bowed much lower than the men, whereas the taller boy only inclined his head slightly in recognition.
Akira found himself standing on tip-toe and straining to see across the room with interest.
<The two sons…> he thought.

The first, the one who’d hardly bowed had to be Hisashi.  The heir to all this.  He was very handsome, devilishly so, a light smirk playing about his lips as he surveyed the two new acquaintances.  He looked somewhat reckless, rouged around the edges, ‘one of the lads’.  But there was also a shred, calculating look in his eyes that worried Akira somewhat.  Imposing, somewhat frightening, a distinct air of confidence so Akira could immediately see why Hanamichi did not like him.

The second boy was smaller, slighter and had a ready smile on his lips.  A pair of thin rimmed glasses decorated his pretty face and an ever-so-slightly-too-long fringe kept falling into his soft brown eyes, causing him to brush it repeatedly out of the way with an adorable annoyance.

Akira was mildly surprised that Hanamichi’s description of the boy had been so inaccurate.  There were no piercing, hostile eyes, and nothing about the sweet creature looked remotely fox-like.  The open smiling face was kindly and gentle, able to extract a smile from the most prudish looking men.  Akira liked him immediately and told Koshino so.  His companion gave him a reproachful look and simply said “Remember yourself.”  That was enough to make Akira stop smiling at the boy who wasn’t even looking in his direction and force his attentions elsewhere, silently rebuking himself for even looking twice at a Rukawa.

Absently the two boys began to mix in with the thong of people, carefully trying to avoid the area wherever Rukawa and his two young companions were greeting people.

Without meaning to, the two impostors found themselves at the far end of the hall where a long table was situated, behind which a colourful array of Geisha were serving drinks to the merry party goers with ready smiles.  Absent-mindedly Akira reached for a cup of punch, before realising that he couldn’t drink it without removing the mask from his face which was, of course, inconceivable least he be recognised.  He stood, feeling rather foolish, with the full cup of punch in one hand, and his mask in the other.  He was just debating with himself whether it would be considered terribly rude if he replaced the cup on the table when a figure walked past and jostled his shoulder, almost causing him to spill the liquid all over himself.  The sensuous brush of silk against his bare arm was caused by the boy’s simple black and white kimono which covered his lean frame.  Akira glanced up through the eye slits of his mask and found himself drowning in a pair of dark indigo eyes that were looking at him in surprise.
For a fearful second Akira thought he might have been recognised by the stranger, but then the boy before him dropped the mask from his face and mumbled “gomen” rather shortly before replacing his mask and turning back to the drinks table.

Akira opened his mouth to reply, but found his throat had dried up and he couldn’t form a coherent sentence anyway.  He was frozen to the spot, staring at the back of the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his life.

Koshino elbowed him gently to gain his attention but Akira hardly felt it.  He was already far away, ridiculous thoughts marching through his head like battle troops, each more unconceivable than the last – touching those pale, slim hands, holding that slim waist in the crushing embrace, gazing into those endless blue eyes, licking the salt from that perfect skin…

He didn’t move until Koshino practically hauled on the back of his costume, dragging him away and spilling his drink.
The beauty did not turn to look at him again.
The rest of the night was spent tracking the boy through the halls, much to Koshino’s annoyance.  The eldest of the Sendoh sons was content to watch the slim, blue-eyed boy, and to lust dreamily after him.

~tbc