Sakura [Kaoru]

The year was 1615, and things were at peace. Military might had struck down enemies, and there was no threat. Now, everyone was settling in for a much appreciated time of peace. Already, things had been put back to right and the economy was booming with those who were not afraid to spend their money. That meant that Uruha could get back to work.

Theater was his life, and now that people were back to their old selves, it meant he could continue that life and fulfill the ten year contract he had as an indentured slave. He no longer had to put things on hold. Already, he had completed eight years of his contract. His master said mean things to him, though. Saying he would no longer be able to play female roles before too long. Uruha knew this to be false. He still had many admires who told him differently, told him he was born to play the female roles. Because, not only was he a kabuki actor, he also took men to his bed, for a small fee, of course. It was the only way he could make money for him to buy the things he wanted.

On that night in particular, he had used a large sum he had gotten from his last client to adorn his dark made-up wig with a new coral accessory, along with the pins and tortoise shell comb he wore. His clothes were magnificent, the finest of silks and even geisha would be jealous of them. The robe he wore over his kimono was of bright colors, offsetting the mood for the play at first. His painted face remained expressionless as he danced for the man who was his 'lover' on the stage. However, this lover of his was already married, and his character, she was just a courtesan who could not speak for herself. She danced beautifully with a pair of fans, spinning and twirling them around before kneeling in front of the man who was her lover.

There was a long pause as Uruha slowly lifted his face to gaze upon the man who slowly brought him back to his feet with the light touch of his hand, his robe slowly falling from his free arm and slowly turning to remove the other sleeve, letting it fall to the stage, wearing white, the color of death now. The song that played for them spoke of lovers who needed each other so badly they would do anything to obtain that. And, they did. For the four hour duration of the show, they danced their scenes together, going back and forth between the wife and courtesan, to the sound of music and singing, telling their story before it ultimately culminated in their deaths; by suicide. As he 'died', Uruha slowly sank to the floor, allowing a pained expression to flit across his face before falling, kneeling on the floor, one palm pressed to the stage.

With the show finished, Uruha gracefully stood, giving a tiny, almost coy smile before he went to the side of the stage, climbing off and going behind it to where they had set up a small area for them. It was an outside stage today, which was always fun, but it was unbearably hot under all the layers of his kimono, wig, and makeup. He just wished to shed them as soon as he could. He had to mingle with fans before-hand, though. And possibly get himself another client or two before the night was over.

The Kabuki Theater; it was a regular place for the samurai to attend to, going to watch the shows and at times, take one of the actors for the night. But that night, Kaoru hadn't found himself craving that kind of attention, merely coming for the show and to be able to allow his mind to rest and enjoy the work of others. He was fond of the theater, maybe more so than his comrades who attended them with him; where Kaoru found himself entranced by the stories and the movement of the dancers, his men were more interested in seeing what was under all that makeup and costume.

And it was exactly why he found himself alone that night, sitting away from his fellow samurai, that were grouped on the other side of the theater. He could feel some eyes on him, knowing they were the civilians around the town and tried to let it roll off of him. Not everyone approved of the fact that samurai were the only ones allowed to carry around their weapons, and made obvious by the two swords that sat rested against his hip. But his clothes were relaxed that day, a simple hitatare in turn of a kimono that his counterparts were wearing that night. He was not out to impress, but more so he was not about to throw himself into a laughing stock amongst the samurai for choosing such a flamboyant way of drawing in partners. The one feature that made him very distinctively different from his samurai was the way he wore his hair; falling loose around his shoulders and over his face, making him appear all that more interrogated into the common folk. Some gawked at his style of hair dress, but he couldn't bring himself to like the topknot style, and it wasn't as though his sword skill could not take care of anyone who dared to question why he wore it in such a fashion. He was also one of the few samurai in his clan that started the tradition of tattooing as a way of looking distinctive, instead of the usual way of telling the criminals from the rest of society. And it certainly explained why he was sitting alone, knowing that it was not quite something society and grown used to. It was the ultimate reason he endured and even enjoyed the pain of sitting through the tattooing; so underneath his samurai garb, he was different from everyone else.

His dark eyes stayed on the stage, enjoyed the show, feeling the emotions behind the actors and pulled towards their desperation. He had never known a love so powerful he was willing to do what the woman in the play had done, but he could understand how badly someone might fight for a love that strong. Kaoru hoped the one day be able to express himself in such a way, but for now, he enjoyed the actor that was portraying the mistress, a small smile on his lips. The man was beautiful, more so than actor that shared the stage with him, and no doubt would the man be subject to his fellow samurai in the theater. And there was certainly a moment of want in his mind and body, curious if the man would sing under his touch as much as he sang on stage.

Watching through the entire show, he found himself clapping along at the end, letting the emotions wash over him before he got up and exited his seat. He didn't want to stay through the greetings with the actors. But his eyes trained on his men, seeing them heading towards the actor and instantly approaching in a group, all interested in what he had to offer. It annoyed him, not only for the fact that he had found the man attractive, but that they did not have the mind to approach the man more appropriately. Letting a slow breath out through his nose, he started towards the front of the stage, able to hear the drunken way his comrades were speaking to the man and felt himself only annoyed further.

"Gentlemen." His voice was deep, dark eyes pinning them from under his waves of hair, watching as they all paused and looked towards him before straightening noticeably, "as sure as I feel this kind man is enjoying the attention, I'm more than certain you could be far less rude in your approach." Kaoru found himself enjoying in the way they seemed to shrink under his words, many of them starting away from the dancer, choosing to ignore the comments they threw behind him as they walked.

"You'll have to forgive me for my men. They have no manners once they've had too much sake." Kaoru offered the man a small smile, nodding his head; waves falling over his face at the short movement. He started to walk away, not taking into the fact that the dancer may want him to stay.

It wasn't a surprise when men approached him after the show. It always happened, and it wasn't usual for them to be so vulgar either. It was something that Uruha had become accustomed to over the years, and he figured it just made his life a little easier when the men were chasing him down. He certainly wasn't a fan of the vulgar manner of the men, but if you had an advantage, play it, that's what his motto was. He just wanted to get a client and be able to get out of the layers of everything that he wore.

This crowd was a bit more rowdy, though. They were all intoxicated, it seemed. Drunk men were always the worst. There was no passion to their fucking. It was just brute needs. Uruha thought it would be refreshing to find someone who could be intense, rough, and caring all at the same time. Perhaps that was asking a bit much, though. Well, drunk men or not, he would be getting his client for the night, with so many to choose from. He just had to grin and bear the vulgarity of it all for now.

However, a deep voice, dark eyes, long hair, and a fit body seemed to suddenly bring things to a halt. Uruha couldn't help but stare for a moment. It must have been the most handsome man he had seen in his life, and here he was chasing all his potential customers away. Well, that just would not do. When the man spoke to him directly, though, he was dumbfounded for a moment, unable to find his voice. Then, he was walking away.

"Hold on a moment." Uruha called out, sounding a bit cross as he closed the distance between them as gracefully and quickly as he could manage. He bowed his head, to be polite of course, leaning in close to speak to the man, but not too close. Just to share private words with him. "I appreciate you calling off the hounds, but... it was not necessary." Uruha said, using his voice to suggest something before he shook his head and let a small smile slip onto his plush lips. "Even if I'm off the stage, I still have work to do, you see. I can't have some chivalrous samurai spooking the others away." He added before taking a step back and bowing his head again.

He turned then, thinking it was his turn to walk away then, going to where he had a small table set up for his things and removing the wig. He sighed a bit as he pulled the pins that held his hair in place and shook out the unusually colored locks. Then, reaching into the sleeve of his kimono, he pulled out a handkerchief, wiping the white makeup from his face, but starting to reapply the make up around his eyes. It made them more intense and men seemed to like that. It was a shame that he would have to try a bit harder tonight for a customer, but he figured that the handsome samurai would be too morally upstanding, and he did not really care to be rejected by the man, so what was the point in trying? Even if he did scare most potential customers away...