He hoped he hadn’t gotten himself lost. Without a map and working with just his memory, Axel wandered into the streets of the Hanamachi with just a hint of uncertainty in his steps. Several women in luscious kimonos gave serene smiles as he walked by, and he gave a small nod of his head, awkwardly returning their greeting as politely as he could. He had been trying to keep a straight face since leaving Tifa’s apartment, trying not to stand out like the confused foreigner he was. It was difficult to lay low, what with his bright hair standing out like a bonfire against the deep blue of nightfall, not to mention his decision to wear his sneakers with his yukata. Every street he walked down, Axel could feel the locals sneak curious gazes at him, some only quick once-overs, while others were less shy with their fascination and continued to stare long after they’ve past him. Axel felt a pang of embarrassment, suddenly wishing he had worn his home clothes rather than the gifts Tifa had given him.
The air was cool and clear, still undeniably fresh from the rain just an hour before. As he entered deeper into the district, the sound of chatter and laughter grew, as did the savory smell from the restaurants lined side by side. Axel felt his breath catch when the sound of string instruments reached his ears. His mind immediately filled with memories of the young musician who had caught his attention just days before. He followed the song to a tea house and stood at a distance as he tried to gain a peek inside. The music was suddenly amplified as the door of the ochaya slid open, and Axel gave a start. Several men with cigarettes hanging from their lips exited the building, all noticing Axel standing dumbly off to the side, though they walked away without so much as a second glance, their blusterous laughter blending in with the rest of the locals.
The door was pulled shut, and Axel realized the caliber of the entertainer performing inside came nowhere near the irresistible strum that had been repeating in his mind for the past three days. It wasn’t the musician he was looking for, and Axel continued on.
Axel lost count of the number of tea houses he had passed in his insatiable search for a stranger. Asking around proved futile; the people he asked either could not understand English, or didn’t see anyone matching his description. Looking around, he didn’t recognize where he was at all, and a thread of worry slowly weaved through his nerves. A cart toting a wealthy man and a woman Axel presumed to be a geisha rushed by, and he ducked into the narrow mouth of an alley between two buildings. He looked down, and noticed the hem of his yukata was damp from the rainwater. Sighing, he ran his fingers through his hair, pursing his lips as he contemplated giving up and retracing his steps back home, where he was sure Reno was waiting to laugh and present him with the most indulgent “I told you so.”
Before he could act on his instincts, the soothing sound of a biwa paralyzed him. He turned around, and waited for another strum, praying he didn’t just hallucinate the sound. After a beat, his prayers were answered; the music was soft, distant, but Axel was positive it was played by the person he was searching for. He shuffled deeper into the narrow passage, the glow of the lanterns behind him fading with every step he took. There were no lights nor signs, only the blue wash of the moon and the beckoning ripple of the biwa to lead him. He made numerous turns into what suddenly felt like a hidden labyrinth in the Hanamachi, trusting his ears to take him to that boy with the golden hair.
As the song grew louder, Axel picked up his pace, jogging down passageways and making turns on an instinct. When he reached a straight path, his eyes widened in wonder at the lonely door at the very end. Axel noticed the faint amber glow around the perimeter of the door, its light penetrating the dark. It drew him in, and as he advanced closer, he noticed the engravings in the wood. He hadn’t seen any other door in the district with such engravings or recognize the strange emblem carved in the center.
Axel swallowed hard, only then realizing how hard his heart was pounding in his chest. His fingers brushed gently, almost cautiously against the wood grain. Gathering up the courage, he knocked twice on the door, and the song permeating through the wall stopped immediately. He took in a deep breath, his mind swirling between anxiety and infatuation.
After a beat, a soft, boyish voice spoke—dare ga iru?
His feet felt like lead, his hands fisted by his sides as he tried to calm himself enough to answer. “My name is Axel,” he began, “I’m…I’m looking for someone.”
There was another long pause; the muted air was maddening. He longed for another strum of the biwa, or at least the sound of the musician’s voice.
He heard a small shuffle and the faint patter of steps towards the door. Mimicking the motion, Axel stepped forward, coming up a breath away. The hushed voice on the other side spoke again, and Axel felt his heart jump when it felt like the person was whispering right into his ear.
Dare wo sagashiteru?
Axel let out a shaky breath. “I don’t… understand. I don’t speak the language.” I don’t know what his name is, but I’m looking for someone.”
“So am I.”
Green eyes widened and he recoiled from the door. He heard the clicks of locks released, and the door slowly slide open. There at the entryway was the boy with the golden hair.
Axel felt the hairs at the nape of his neck stand on end and his skin prickle with goosebumps.
The orange glow of the room behind him gave him an aura, framing his face and body with the most delicate gold hue. His blue eyes glowed, and Axel found himself fixated on them.
Without a word, Roxas turned, leaving the door open with an unspoken invitation.
Axel took a single step forward before he was suddenly aware he was lost without Tifa’s guidance on all the culture’s etiquette. Across the threshold, the musician was gazing at him with a mix of curiosity and wonder. A vibrant kimono wrapped loosely around his body, pink flowers embroidered into the rich fabric glistening with the light of the numerous lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Axel suddenly felt underdressed, and he looked down at his shoes, which were damp from his trek. Looking back up, he noticed Roxas raise his eyebrows at his choice of footwear.
He let out a nervous laugh, raking his fingers into his hair. “I’m sorry, I can’t—I don’t know how to wear geta and it was raining before…”
The blond shook his head and smiled. “You don’t have to be sorry. I’d like you to come in.”
Axel was at a loss of words. The boy spoke English fluently, making him more and more interesting by the minute. Axel bent to untie his laces, removing his socks and stuffing them into the mouth of his sneakers before stepping in. He shut the door, slowly turning around to face the stranger. He remained still, unsure of what to do or what to say. His eyes flicked from the boy’s face to the ornate flower pinned to the band around his stomach, before finally fixing themselves on the floor. He was waiting for a cue.
“Sake?”
His attention immediately returned to the boy’s fair face, and he felt his own heat up in a blush. “I—uh, yes. Sure.”
The blond grinned, reaching into an alcove for a cup and bottle. When he turned back around, he gave a small laugh when he saw Axel still standing stiffly at the door.
“If you’re worried about etiquette and proper technique, don’t be. Sit. Drink with me.”
Axel obeyed, moving carefully through the low hanging lanterns to join the musician in the center of the room, shuffling to sit cross-legged on a pillow. A cup decorated with fine flowers was presented to him, and Axel accepted it with both hands.
The boy smiled again, “I see you know a thing or two about politeness, Axel.”
This time, Axel broke into a toothy grin, pleased with the sound of his name on the stranger’s lips. “A friend taught me. I don’t remember much to be honest, but the two hands thing I remember.”
“That’s already better than the handful of people I’ve met.” The boy lifted his own cup towards Axel. “Kanpai.”
“Kanpai,” Axel echoed, delicately clinking his cup with the other’s before taking a small sip of sake. He watched as Roxas did the same.
The boy was even more beautiful than he last remembered.
“What’s your name?” He asked, taking another drink.
“Roxas,” came the reply.
“That’s a curious name. Were you born here? In Kyoto?”
Roxas shook his head, placing his drink down. “No. I move from place to place a lot. I came here perhaps a few month ago, or more—I don’t remember exactly.”
“So…where are you from?”
The blond gave a quiet chuckle, “Not sure. I don’t remember much from my past—only that I’ve been wandering across countries since I was young. I’m looking for something. And a place where I belong.” Roxas gave notice to Axel’s hair, his green eyes, and tattoos just beneath, and Axel felt a chill run up his spine from the attention. “You’re not from here either, and yet you managed to find your way through the alleys?”
“I kind of—well, I guess it was luck, or something.”
“Why are you here, Axel?”
Axel blinked. The question seemed more intense than it was meant to be. Still, he answered with a smile. “For study. My friend and I, we’re here doing research at the University for a year.”
Reaching behind him, Roxas picked up a slender pipe, preparing the tobacco and taking in a breath from the metal mouth piece. “Just for that?”
He nodded, “yeah. Nothing too exciting, but being able to stay here more than makes up for it.”
Delicate smoke snaked from the head of the pipe. For a moment, no one said anything. It looked like Roxas was deep in thought. “You said you were…looking for someone?”
“I—“ Axel fidgeted. How could he tell him he was looking for him when he didn’t even know his name until just moments ago? He only saw glimpses of the musician through the crowd of people on the streets, pushed along and hurried through the excitement of a foreign land by Reno and Tifa, and both claimed they didn’t see him nor heard his playing. “Your music,” he managed, biting his lips, “the sound of your playing is just incredible. It’s like magic. I wasn’t ever really into the traditional music here, but you…I’ve never heard anything like it. I didn’t know that there were—I wouldn’t know what I could call you, a minstrel? I mean, I’ve heard of geishas, but not male entertainers like yourself. I’m sure many people want to hear you play, me included, that’s why I…”
Roxas’ gaze fell, Axel immediately regretted his words. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—I don’t mean I was seeking you out for a private performance or anything, I just thought—“
A slender finger touched his lips together, and Axel stared wide-eyed at Roxas. “It’s okay,” Roxas assured him. The boy moves his touch from Axel’s mouth to his chin, soothing the pads of his fingers across his jaw just briefly before taking back his hand. “I’m not a taikomochi…not that I want to be a male geisha. I’m just a nobody, really. I come and go, meet very few people and make even fewer friends. My music is all I can do, and I don’t do it for others. I can’t.” He gives a teasing grin, “at least not yet.”
Axel raised an eyebrow. “What—what do you mean you can’t play for others? You did a few days ago at the mouth of the district, that’s where I saw you.” Off to the side, Axel noticed the string instrument sitting in its stand. It was definitely the same one he saw the musician play. “you were playing that,” he pointed, Roxas’ attention following, “it was just…so different.”
“I remember. Playing my biwa, working my magic, telling a story no one else could understand. I saw you that day. Your red hair and green eyes. You distracted me,” the musician smirked, taking in another huff of tobacco. He let out a slow breath, and the seductive curl of the smoke seemed to draw Axel in. “I almost lost my focus on my spell.”
Spell? Axel wondered, his brows knitting together in confusion as Roxas replaced his pipe. He studied him. He was beautiful, mysterious, but Axel couldn’t help the small inklings of uncertainty creeping into his mind as he pondered what this boy was doing here in Japan—and if the mentions of ‘magic’ and ‘spells’ were just playful analogies for his talent, or something more than that. “Who are you, Roxas, really?”
The blond refilled Axel’s sake cup, then his own, as he answered, “I can’t reveal all my mysteries to you, Axel.” His eyes danced, their hue holding back a secret as he peered over the glass at his guest as he drank. “No one would come to watch a magic show if they knew how everything was done, right?”
Axel bobbed his head slightly in agreement, “I guess, but maybe some people would go watch anyway, for the magician.” At this, Axel saw Roxas’ eyes soften just a fraction. The boy bit his lip, failing to hide the contented grin that spread over his face.
“You said you were looking for someone too?” Axel asked, not realizing he had shifted closer to the peculiar boy. Roxas, however, noticed, and welcomed the proximity, moving over towards his guest until their knees bumped.
“Yes. I’m looking for someone who’ll help me find something, something I need to make me whole again.” His voice lowered to a whisper, “but you’re a distraction.”
Axel raised his green eyes to admire the flawless visage just inches away from him. “Is that a bad thing?” He murmured. Slowly, he raised his hand and soothed his palm on Roxas’ neck. He heard a sharp intake of breath, and he felt a shudder.
“It might be,” Roxas chuckled softly, swallowing when he felt a hand caress his arm. “You could ruin everything for me, make me stray from my purpose here.”
“Sounds like I’m just returning the favor,” Axel teased, “Meeting you has been on my mind since I saw you.”
A part of Axel’s mind told him to stop, that he was probably breaching every level of politeness and manners by acting this way, but he couldn’t—Roxas had a hold of him, Axel wrapped around his finger and helpless to Roxas’ allure. He leaned in, brushing his nose against the blond’s, his mouth tingling with anticipation with every warm breath Roxas gave. The boy smelled like sake and sugar.
“Roxas,” Axel whispered, feeling confident enough to massage the back of the musician’s neck with his long fingers. He held his breath when Roxas’ hands curled against Axel’s shoulders, relishing the warmth that seeped through the light fabric of his yukata. At last, Axel made the decision to kiss him, but Roxas kept him at bay.
“No,” Roxas muttered, “you mustn’t kiss me,” his voice was tight with excitement and the faintest indication of caution. As if in apology, Roxas cupped Axel’s face, stroking his cheeks with his thumb so gently as if he were strumming a song against his skin. “But I want you to, Axel. I want to be close to you, but you mustn’t, you can’t.”
A moan slipped from Axel’s throat, the sudden desire to kiss him growing tenfold. “Why?”
A flash of pain wisped across Roxas’ face, disappearing as quickly as it came. “I need to be whole again. I’m not…what I seem,” came the reply. Roxas lowered a hand, slipping beneath the neck of the green yukata to press against his chest.
Axel’s heart pounded against his ribcage, mind buzzing with the thrill of seduction and the mysteries surrounding Roxas. He wanted to kiss him, to defy the warnings and bring Roxas’ secrets to the surface. Taking Roxas’ hand in his own, he leaned into him, and the blond yielded to his weight, shifting to lie comfortably on the cushions on the floor with Axel looming over. They stayed prone for what felt like forever, their breathing in sync with their eyes locked on one another. Roxas’ blue eyes gleamed with the amber from the lanterns, like the setting sun against an ocean.
Axel swallowed, debating whether or not he should succumb to the desire buzzing in his chest. Reaching up, he touched the blond’s face, and Roxas’ eyes fluttered shut, head tilting off to the side to grant Axel the tempting skin of his neck instead. Axel couldn’t resist; he leaned down, brushing his mouth across Roxas’ jaw, beneath his ear, and the enticing curve of his shoulder. He moved across to the other side, running his long fingers through the yellow tresses of hair. Fingers gripped his yukata, and Roxas arched against him. He heard Roxas’ breath hitch when his lips traversed the length of his collar bone. Axel felt a jump in his gut and his mind was foggy with arousal. Gentle fingers curled into his red hair as he nuzzled the nape of the musician’s neck, taking in his scent as he fought to keep himself under control.
“Roxas,” he said, biting down on his own lip, slipping his arm under the curve of the boy’s shoulders, “please.” He tried again, but the boy only turned his head and denied him once more.
“You can’t—I can’t let you,” the blond said, sounding more resolute this time. He pushed himself off the floor, setting the two of them back upright. Axel nodded compliantly, not wanting to press his luck. Blood pounded in his ears.
“You should go,” Roxas says, releasing Axel and shifting away from him. “You shouldn’t be here at all.”
Axel watched him with longing eyes, the sudden change making his heart drop. “Can I see you again?” Roxas stood, taking Axel’s hands and helping him up. Their fingers entwined briefly, but Roxas gave no answer. “Roxas,” he pleaded, hands taking a hold of the blond’s shoulders, “I want to know who you are. I want to see you.”
“I’m not what I seem, Axel. I have to be awakened. Maybe then we can be together.”
He frowned, biting his lip to stamp down his frustration. “I don’t understand,” Axel murmured, “I’m here, with you.”
Sighing, Roxas stepped backwards, shaking his head. “The only way to see me again is to find me.”
“But where will you be? Will you be here?”
He shut his eyes, his smile gone. “I don’t know.”
“I’ll find you,” Axel promised, “whatever brought me here to you, it’ll bring me to you again.”
A look of concern spread in Roxas’ face. He turned, taking something tucked away in a drawer. In his hands was a folded cloth, patterned with the same unusual emblem that was on the door. Roxas moved closer, and brought his hands and the silk back around axel’s shoulders. Axel felt his hair being combed back, then secured with a tight knot.
“Something to remember me by, Axel. One day, when I awaken, you might not remember who I am.”
Axel watched as Roxas gave a weak smile, moving to take the biwa from its stand. He tried to speak, but was surprised to hear nothing come from his mouth. His feet were planted to the floor. Roxas kneeled before him, his instrument settled across his body, and he looked up. As he began to play, the lanterns flickered out one by one.
“I’ll be waiting, Axel.” Axel felt a chill crawl up his spine as the room plunged deeper and deeper into darkness.
As the lights extinguished, Roxas’ playing grew louder, every note more powerful than the last. When the last glow vanished, Axel fell through an abyss. He could hear no sound, or see anything through the black pit around him. His body remained suspended, neither falling or rising, until he felt a strong hand grip his shoulder and pull at him. He opened his eyes with a start, pupils constricting as bright light overpowered him. He breathed in deep, expecting to see Roxas there, but was shocked to find himself back in Tifa’s guestroom with Reno impatiently demanding him to wake up.
—-
WHAT IS A SHORT DRABBLE. SORRY FOR STRETCHING YOUR DASH TO THE ENDS OF THE EARTH.
