Moving with the Times [Goatse and Kawa and Japan, ohmy!]

[Kawamura]

The bustle of a foreign city, filled with unfamiliar smells and images and sounds, should have been a frightening one. Culture shock compounded with the unknown and being lost was, for most men, panic inducing, and the blond walking around stiffly, head and shoulders taller than the natives he passed, looked every bit the lost alien.

Of course he stood out like, well, like a white person in a city full of Japanese. It would make his keepersâ?? search easy; they could just ask â??Have you seen a very tall foreigner?â?? and everyone they spoke with would be able to answer in the affirmative. Because he was very tall and very, very foreign. He was freckled, with a wide, open face and wide, open green eyes. Blond hair was highlighted from being out in the sun, the same sun that had left his skin peeling in some places and he smelled, underneath his cologne, of stale sea water and close quarters. He was a handsome man, in a very foreign way that most Japanese would probably call â??uglyâ??, but then, the majority of Japanese had a reason to fear Westerners.

Oh, he wasnâ??t stupid, even if his bugged out eyes and innocent â??Iâ??m lost and confusedâ?? expression (one that could be found in every culture, though usually on children) hinted otherwise. Part of his preparation, along with language study and schooling in an accent that wasnâ??t his own, involved inhaling the few accounts written about the culture. There wasnâ??t many, and the majority he could found had to be translated from Dutch, but even if he hadnâ??t have read about the xenophobia, he would have seen it in every face turned towards him as he passed, expressions ranging from wariness to downright dislike.

â??Mr. Wilson!â?

The man turned back to see a rather chubby gentleman with a round face and a rounder belly. Ah. The trader. Mr. Wilsonâ??s mind supplied the name â??Charles Bakerâ??, one of the many faces heâ??d flash-memorized while he was locked in his room pretending to have a nasty case of seasickness. He bent nearly double, taking heaving breaths and wiping his ruddy face with a handkerchief, even removing his bowler hat to wipe at his balding scalp. Wilson smiled, relieved, and reached out to rest a hand on the older manâ??s back: he took in the stony faced Japanese guard beside him, dressed smartly in very Western clothing. â??Oh, sir, Iâ??m so glad to see you! You would be Mr. Baker, would you?â? The subtle, fake Southern accent no longer sounded wrong to him, neither did the name â??Mr. Wilsonâ??. The good Lord gave everyone a talent or four, and it was up to every man to find their use. The blond known currently as â??Cyrus Wilsonâ?? had found his at an early age. One of them, the most useful now, was the ability to lie so well that no one ever thought he was telling an untruth. Most liars, after all, were fantastic at lying but awful at faking innocence; Cy was fantastic at both. He reached out for a corpulent hand and shook it enthusiastically. â??Bless me, I thought Iâ??d wandered right straight into the Labyrinth with no way out and no one to help.â?

Baker nodded solemnly, tucking his cloth back into his pocket. â??I understand, Mr. Wilson,â? he said sympathetically, gesturing to his guard like they were butlers, not armed men, as he started leading their odd group further away from the docks and into a coach piled high with luggage. Cy hadnâ??t expected that, but he kept his tongue still (though his mouth open slightly in a look of wide-eyed curiosity). â??When I first came here, I simply refused to leave the house of my patron for three days in an attempt to acclimate. The houses are so small, though, I ended up leaving just to get some fresh air. I say, itâ??s just miserable, the size of these places. And the food--â?

Cy nodded, every inch the interested acquaintance while he attempted to follow their route. They were being driven into more residential areas if the drop in noise meant anything; unfortunately, he had no access to maps and had been told that Japanese cities were built with no thought towards their layout. Heâ??d have to â??get lostâ?? again, to explore, because not knowing how to get to point A from point B without help of a guide was a dangerous matter. â??Ah, here we go.â? Cy, like an excited little boy on Christmas morning, opened the curtains, peaking out. â??Iâ??ve chosen a rather intelligent lad for your assistant.â? The blond glanced back to the fat man, who smiled dotingly. â??I know you scientist types will probably be able to get by with just pictures and grunting, but it wonâ??t do to have a fellow Southern son running about dumb in this city.â? Ah. So thatâ??s why heâ??d been given the accent: it wasnâ??t just to cover up his own, but to earn sympathy with one of the men. Baker sighed heavily, pulled his boâ??derby back on, and said, â??Well, then. Itâ??s best if we go and meet your host. Make sure you take your shoes off at the door. They get awfully angry about people tracking in dirt.â?

 

[Ilovegoatse]

There was something profoundly wrong about this afternoon. There was something different, and something certainly couldn't be right. Most of this man's thoughts and feelings were based on superstition and tradition. He knew that there was a bad air about him. For when he was combing his hair in the morning, the item broke clear in half. Such a thing had caused him to hurriedly run off to the temple, begging them for what to do with the item. They kept it and disposed of it in a proper way, and he had returned home still rather worried. It wasn't enough that he had gotten a bad luck omen, but he realized that... well, that bothersome Westerner was coming this very day.

What had made things worse, was the fact that when he walked into his home, he realized the vase he had contained four flowers, as opposed to the eight he recalled putting in earlier. Sighing nervously, he had quickly plucked one out, throwing it outside quickly. Three, that wasn't so bad, four though... four made him increasingly nervous. This couldn't be good, perhaps he shouldn't have listened to his companion when they had conspired to use this visitor as a way to gain knowledge on the Westerners. Genkei, Koichi's companion, would certainly be contacted later that day. He couldn't go without telling him about every single omen he had. This was far too worrisome to just abandon and forget about. He certainly wouldn't be telling the westerner about such things either.

Suddenly though, he had heard someone approaching, causing the young man to swallow a bit. Being a kabuki dancer, one could easily tell that in his quick fluid movement towards the entrance. He wasn't looking forward to this, which could be clean in the etched worry of his brows. Sliding the panel open, he had looked to his new guest, feigning a look of relief. A slight bow was his greeting, forcing himself to offer a proper greeting. "Welcome to my home, I would be honored to have you." His accent was thick, and he was a bit difficult to understand, but at least he was able to form an understandable sentence in this language. He hated learning it, but he knew that he had no other choice.

The clothing he had worn looked surprisingly expensive, and it seemed as though he was living in wealth. Such things he could afford with famous in the arts, as seen by his feminine features. He was born to be an onnagata, he had nothing else he could be in life. Though, he wasn't exactly disappointed by fate, he enjoyed the popularity he had gained from it. "My name is Koichi." The young man spoke simply, his dark locks pulled back tightly, barely moving as he turned his head suddenly. "Come in." Glaring down at the man's feet suddenly, he continued, "Take your shoes off. Now." Koichi didn't feel like making small talk, he knew it would be forced either way. If the barbarian wanted to talk, he would indicate as much. Till then, this actor would just keep quiet, allowing him to at least stay in his home... as long as he didn't mess anything up. He didn't even bother greeting the man that came with his new occupant, he had no reason to. The young actor didn't feel like spending more time than he needed to in this situation.

 

[Kawamura]

Even with a foreign culture, the Cy could tell enough to see his host lived in what he assumed was luxury: as Baker noted, the houses were small for Westerners and the walls looked so very thin. Privacy would be a problem. Baker was still chattering away as they moved from the street. There was so very little garden space available, even in the affluent areas the people nearly lived on top of each other and he could understand why a big man like the banker felt claustrophobic. Bright, wide eyes took in the building like a lost little boy, only flickering down as if caught when he heard the sliding sound of a door on wood. He would have to get used to that, new sounds that served as warnings.

The host was a small man, like all the Japanese he saw, but distinctly... feminine. He had a certain surety of motion that must have come from practice: a dancer or an actor. Did actors make much in this country? He couldn't remember hearing much about them during his time studying the culture. Baker returned the bow clumsily, while Cy stared ahead stupidly, startled, then moved forward quickly. "Er, thank you," he said in that borrowed accent, bending forward at the waist before moving to catch up.

He was already a few steps into the house before he caught the warning. Baker gave him a big, liquid smile as he pulled off his own shoes at the door, huffing and heaving as he bent. Cy ducked his head, muttering an apology as he pulled off his own. "How are you doing, Koichi-san?" Baker spoke slowly and managed to butcher every syllable possible along the way; if Cy wasn't a good actor, he would have cringed in time with the whole gutting of the Japanese language. Some how, Baker had taken five syllables and turned them into linguistic pain. Instead, Cy straightened and subsequently hit his head on a low beam.

Sometimes little accidents happened that made his acting all the more easy. The blond rubbed at the back of his head, free to cringe now as stared around with one eye open.

 

[Ilovegoatse]

The young actor merely stared at that greeting, sighing softly. It seemed as though he was already exhausted with these men, and didn't even bother pretending that he was going to enjoy this. "There are rules." He spoke simply, not even bowing to either of them. "Rules that need to be followed, at any cost." Walking away from them, it seemed as though he was repulsed by the smell, which he also didn't bother hiding. Visibly looking disgusted, Koichi continued, "Don't touch anything without my permission. Most of my belongings are expensive, I do not desire to have your greasy hands on my items." Narrowing his eyes, he spoke once more, "I can tell if you have. I will see the stains and know exactly who to go to. That is enough to get you thrown out of my home." Furrowing his brows, he coughed a few times and abruptly commented, "You stink of fish. Find somewhere to clean yourself. I have... clients... who come here, I do not want them telling everyone I smell like a foreigner."

Abruptly turning to them, he glared, "Do not speak to my guests unless I give you permission. You are clumsy, I don't need that added to my reputation. I've worked hard to keep what I have, I don't want it all to be taken away from me by you." Apparently he wasn't very good at pretending to be a sweet nice host. Instead, he was honest and quite rude, treating these men as if they were pests, animals. Koichi wasn't one to lie about how he felt, as made clear by these threats and rules. A simple 'how are you?' couldn't even be supplied.

"Consider yourself lucky that I didn't make you sleep outside, though that is where you belong."

 

[Kawamura]

Cy gave a nervous chuckle, glancing to Baker as if for backup then back to the Japanese. "You sound amazingly like my own sainted mother," he said brightly, earning a hearty laugh from the big Southerner and a clap on his back that nearly threw him forward. "I think I know the drill already."

"Koichi-san." That same slow speech from Baker, who seemed to think like every American that if you spoke slowly and loudly, any of the non-whites would understand. The man probably talked this way to his slaves. No, right, they called them servants now. Probably had his own here, too, trading dark skin for yellow. "Wilson-san here has a lot of instruments that need moving. Do you have somewhere he can set up his lab." God above. Now he was miming, spreading his hands out wide to signify 'lots'. "Very sensitive. You know 'sensitive'? They break easy."

"I'm sure I could find so--"

"Nonsense, boy," Baker said as if he were the host. "I wouldn't have you feeling homesick. Probably wouldn't know what to do with yourself without all sorts of things bubblin'. Koichi-san, if you have the room, I'll have my man Torida move his bags in right away."

 

[Ilovegoatse]

Looking at Baker as if he was the most moronic person in the world, Koichi looked visibly uncomfortable. Keeping his hands tucked closely to himself, he kept his distance. "Don't do that." He growled suddenly, "I'm not stupid. I understand what you're saying, and I don't need you throwing your arms around like some sort of wild animal." Growing impatient, he had been tempted to just throw them out, leaving them to find someone else to deal with them. Rubbing his temples a bit now, Koichi motioned to a room in his home, "Just put his things in there. That will be his room for everything. He shall only have what he needs... unless he's prepared to sleep in a cramped space."

"Do you need to stay here any longer? You're not my guest, you are not welcome here." The young actor wouldn't even bother addressing Charles directly. He felt it would be disgusting to even say his name, and just wanted him out of his home. His aggressive nature, and his abrasive way of handling things was just not settling well with Koichi. At least Cyrus was keeping to himself enough to not offend him even further.

 

[Kawamura]

His host's abrasive manner was almost shocking: Cy had been informed that most Japaneses of Koichi's social level were polite, sickeningly so, and that it would be like pulling eye teeth to get an honest opinion out of them. The Westerner didn't know if he should be horrified or relieved. Offended, certainly, though he didn't think he'd take much better to strangers in his home, but really, he didn't smell that bad. Cy stretched his arm to sniff at it while Baker gave a big, static smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Lord'a mercy. I suppose we'll have to find somewhere else for the equipment, then." Cy smiled widely, face completely open and free of any hint of frustration.

"It's not a problem. I wouldn't want to inconvenience Mr. Koichi. I'll just grab my clothes and notes, the rest can go to Mr. Suzuki at the school." The blonde turned back to Koichi, shifting uncomfortably. "Erm. If I smell of fish, I imagine most of my things will as well, sir," he said politely, careful because he knew how damned difficult Southern accents were. Damned Colonies. "And I'm afraid it's even more disruptive for me to leave my underthings airing out."

 

[Ilovegoatse]

Koichi looked disgusted at seeing Cy sniff himself like some sort of dog. Covering his mouth a little, his brows were still furrowed as he stared at the both of them. "Do what you must. Just don't cramp my home with his things." Yes, this man in particular was sour, and was notorious for such behaviour. Somehow, he was able to keep his fame, despite his negative attitude towards most. It was unknown how he had ended up this way, when his family wasn't known for such an attitude... but somehow, someone must have screwed up along the line. Perhaps his fame had made him far too cocky for his own good, and what would normally be hidden behind the masks and elaborate costumes was now brought out into the open.

"Just stay out of my way. Do not let your things lay around my home. Like I had mentioned, my clients will be insulted to see such things strewn about. They come here to relax, to clear their mind. Not to be reminded of the disease that is your kind." As most wouldn't voice their honest opinion, he seemed to go overboard.

 

[Kawamura]

Cy followed Baker out. Torida was there with the bags, waiting silently. Did he feel the same way as Koichi? Probably. A strong, closed culture that had been kept away from the rest of the world for centuries, a world that had changed while Japan had stayed, for the most part, still, and now it was being thrown into this new world because the people in charge salivated over being Western. Must have been like a parent abandoning his children to the wolves, only the wolves were robber barons in conservative suits who spoke a different language and didn't care about their new interest's past how much they could make.

Not that, he thought as he helped Torida (silent, bear of a man for a Japanese, nearing five-foot-ten) pull out his bags with clothes and notes and marking the ones that would go to his associate. If nothing else, the assignment allowed him to explore what had just been a hobby before. Baker left, as well, wishing him luck and all good things, telling him to watch out for the Japanese. Cy looked sufficiently lost as they left, then turned back to the house, remember to take his shoes off in the entrance. The stone was cold under his stockinged feet as he stepped up into the house (now that made sense; he had wondered, when he was learning, why the Japanese said 'up' into a house) with two carpet bags. Wasn't much, but most of the big things were going elsewhere.

Koichi, unsurprisingly, was still there. Cy had the feeling the bastard was waiting for him to steal something just so he could throw him out now and be done with it. He'd show him. The blond looked up, confused for a second, then smiled brightly. "Where would you like me to put these things, Mr. Koichi?" he asked pleasantly.

 

[Ilovegoatse]

While Koichi was waiting, he was thinking over how he should handle the intruder into his home. He wanted to find an excuse to get rid of him, but he knew better than to do that. If he were to throw him out the chance he got, the whole learning the language and acting as a host would be for nothing. He had a plan to find out more about these barbarians, and he knew he had to follow through. His companion helped him plan it, and he helped him learn. They were going to use this as an opportunity to gain some unfiltered information. Still, Koichi's terrible habits and personality couldn't help but kick back up and scream in protest. He wanted to strangle this man, to watch him die slowly and painfully... but he knew better than to do that, and simply stayed put.

When the Westerner had returned, he pointed towards one of the back rooms that was close to his own. Why he had allowed him to sleep close to himself, was so he could possibly hear him at night, hopefully gaining some insight into what went through the monster's mind. That's all he could do now, was just try to gain information and hope that he could outsmart the foreigner. "Don't drag your baggage onto my floor, I don't want it to be ruined." Was his simple order, always careful of keeping his home safe and clean. He even considered setting down mats so that he could throw them out after the Westerner finished walking upon them. "I've received many bad omens thanks to you." He added, "I know you are only capable of bringing terrible things with you... Hope that if I pass, no one will know it's your fault." Apparently he wasn't scared to let the other know how terribly superstitious he was.

 

[Kawamura]

"You know," Cy remarked pleasantly, hitching his bags up higher just to make sure they wouldn't touch the floor. Not that it was a concern: the man was tall, certainly compared to Koichi. "We do have natural reasons to explain things. Very modern and all. No point in mentioning omens and the like."

After all, it wasn't like Cy was rejoicing on the inside to be stuck in this house. It had been, what, not even a quarter of an hour and the little man had insulted him, treated him like a dog and just been plain nasty, all without Cy even doing anything. If that was how Koichi wanted to play, then he'd play back. Kill 'em with kindness.

The blond smiled widely, nodded his head in a bit of a bow then went the way Koichi had pointed with one, slender finger. It made him wonder, it did, what sort of work his host (and he used that word as lightly as he could) did that required him to be so feminine. Arts, sure, but was Japan the same in their actors being only a step above prostitutes? Maybe. Cyrus stepped into a room that was just as small as the rest of the house, took in the absence of a bed or much else in the way of furniture. At least this part was like his studies. He carefully tucked his bags away into a corner than set about exploring his quarters, leaving the door open. Not much point in privacy if everything was made of paper anyways.

 

[Ilovegoatse]

The comment seemed to disgust him, to the point of one wondering if the true message was lost in translation. A simple comment like that seemed as though he had cursed Koichi to Hell, and then kicked dirt in his face. It seemed as though he certainly felt that way. "Really? I suppose you know quite a bit then, do you? Well if us barbarians lack intelligence, then I believe you should be leaving right now. After all, you're smarter than me, you should go find your own home. To think a foreigner like you would think you know any better." Scoffing lightly, it was clear the young actor's feathers were ruffled. "You keep your modern values to yourself, I don't need them, I'm fine with what I have here." Sadly, Koichi was becoming a comical sight. Losing his composure, he was having a difficult time with this new language. Slurring many of the words, the young man seemed to have had a hard time spitting out his anger.

When Cy had left, he narrowed his eyes for a moment, and then walked outside for awhile. He needed time to catch his breath, and to think about how he would handle this evening. If his guest wanted to leave the house, he knew he would be responsible for his behavior, and being at the height of his career... well, Koichi didn't want to lose what reputation he had gained, and he didn't want to lose every single bit of respect he received. Normally he had reserved this awful behavior for behind stage, but it seemed as though it was leaking into his personal life as well. What he could normally could control was becoming difficult, probably because he wasn't used to the situation. Leaning against the outside wall of his home, he had placed his face in his palm, groaning. His head was starting to hurt, and he had too much on his mind.

Why couldn't this have been easier?