An Old Story - Arcadia
++NOTE: This is old and kind of corny. It's about the two gay samurai in Jame's Clavell's SHOGUN. So... yep.++
Arcadia
A small strip of silver light passed through the slightly open shoji of my room, running up the length of my futon and wrapping up his back, like a silver piece of silk.
“The moon is beautiful tonight,” he said calmly, through his effeminate yet powerful voice. He sat meditatively on my futon, watching my garden serenely. His hair, as usual, was well oiled and tied into a meticulously neat top not. His skin was fair and pale and taut on his face, his features almost as fine as my consort’s, who was just as fair as the young blossoms on the small tree just outside. She ruled my house well, and I was glad that I had accepted has as my consort, thanking karma that I had found such a woman.
I had invited my dearest friend, Hirosaki Kenko, over for an evening meal, expecting our usual talks and then for him to be off, or for him to stay and pillow with me for the night, which often happened.
He had taken two flasks of sake at the evening meal, and I could tell that he was drunk, even though he kept his composure well. His cheeks were flushed and his words were just slightly slurred, but he did not lose face or act like a drunken fool. He talked in his calm, strong voice with me, almost as affectionately as he would to a favored lover or consort. This wasn’t normal, but I was used to him being kinder to me than he was to most of his friends. He sat stiff and straight, and I felt a pleasant warmth washing over me.
How could he remain so dignified, even with how much wine he took? And how can he still be so handsome? I wanted him… I wanted to be him. He was so beautiful and strong, and the best fighter I had ever known. He was a true samurai, and I admired everything about him. I smiled and laughed a little, curious at his silence.
“You never try to have fun, Kenko-san,” I teased. “Always so serious!”
He simply smiled back silently, and then glanced at my consort and the maids. With understanding, I dismissed them from the room, and had them take away the food, but ordered more sake to be warmed.
They shuffled out, closing the shoji softly behind them.
Kenko’s eyes now gazed at me lovingly, more lovingly than I had ever expected him to look on to me with. They were glazed from the alcohol, but there was still a clarity there that most would have missed.
I sucked in a mouthful of air as he stood and walked closer to my side of the table. He knelt in front of me, and almost carefully extended his hands to my face, smiling so calmly and lovingly…
With a porcelain smooth hand, he touched my cheek, and ran it slowly down the side of my face, under my chin and to the nape of my neck, his hand just barely going under my kimono.
“I never realized just how truly beautiful you were, Tadeo-san.” He smiled and said in a whisper. “If you were a woman, I would marry you, and we would live together forever and bear many strong sons…”
I laughed and gave him a playful shove, a furious blush over my cheeks.
“But I’m not a woman, and we can’t have sons!” I mocked, and placed my hands on my knees, kneeling over as I giggled at his comment.
The shoji slid open and a maid set down another tray with a new flask of warm sake and two small sakazuki. She quickly left and was completely unnoticed as if she had never been in there in the first place.
“I’m serious!” He said, almost hurt. “Well, if I were a woman, would you marry me?” He asked, and his playful side returned for just a moment.
“Sure. And we could have as many sons and daughters as you would want.”
He laughed, and fell over, resting his head in my lap. I benevolently allowed him to use me as his pillow.
He sighed sadly, and smiled.
“I suppose it’s my karma that I’m not a woman or that you aren’t a woman. I must have fallen in love with you in a past life as a woman, neh? Perhaps that’s why I feel the way I do about you.”
I didn’t know what to say in return. His confession of his feelings had come so easily and freely, just as freely as the water flows in the rivers. But love? I had no idea that he loved me. I thought we just pillowed, to satisfy one another’s needs…
Love was a Christian idea, a Christian concept. It shocked me to hear that he loved me. In Japanese, there was really no word for love; just for words for desire, lust, and the likes. He had said the word for desire, but I knew what he had meant. I knew enough Portuguese from the traders that came to Nippon’s shores once awhile to know that love had a completely different meaning from the words that we related to it, which were all mostly related to pillowing.
I remained silent, my breath held in my lungs, and waited for him to speak again.
“Tadeo-san?”
“Hai?”
“Do you desire me, as well?”
I took a shaken breath. Perhaps I did. Perhaps my admiration for him was actually mistaken for my love,
my desire.
“Yes, I do.” I said throatily, the sudden realization hitting me like the winds of a tai-fun.
He smiled and looked up to me, bringing his hands back up to my face again. Those porcelain fingers ran down my cheek again, and to my lips, and with sudden ferocity, he straddled my lap and kissed my deeply, with a passion I had not ever experienced, not even with my favored consort.
So we had gone into my sleeping room, and he had stripped down into just the one layer of his white under kimono, and left his hakama slightly undone, just loose enough so that he could slip them off when need be. He hadn’t taken me as quickly as I had expected him to. Instead, he opened the shoji and let the silver light filter in. For the first time in my life, I was almost afraid to pillow with him. I felt as scared and as naïve as a virgin girl on her wedding night. I forced the fear down my throat, but it would go no further, and formed a painful, nervous lump that would not go away no matter how many times I tried to swallow it.
The silken strip of moonlight disappeared from his back as he turned to face me, and stood. I kneeled, my hands resting on my knees as I tried to keep my composure. He sauntered over, still smiling his seductive smile, driving me wild.
“Isn’t life so amazing? Right now, everything seems so perfect and beautiful. I don’t even want to think about tomorrow.”
“Only now exists,” I replied in a thin and nervous but passionate whisper. No, tomorrow didn’t exist, so there was no need to think about it.
He kneeled in front of me again and took me in a soft and passionate embrace, pulling me into a tender kiss that had emotion to it that had never seemed to be there before.
Perhaps the Christians were right. This concept of actual love… it was new and exciting, and right now I was the happiest I had been since I could remember. Love had brought me happiness.
We went over to my futon and he undressed me carefully, treating me like a delicate porcelain doll that could snap should you handle it wrong. His hands explored my chest for only a moment before I took his hands in mine to stop him, and gently slipped off his under kimono and hakama.
Our naked bodies were pressed close together, the heat driving us on… the mad passion and the lust and love that we had for another, the love that we hadn’t seemed to realize until just this night.
I watched the moon through the partly open shoji as it passed over his muscular shoulder, taking in the scent of the night and the feel of his body against mine.
I could taste the rice wine on his lips as he kissed me, and I could smell the slight perfume that he always wore, and I loved it. I loved every part of him… I loved the way he was so meticulous about the way he looked and smell. I loved the way he fought with such careful, thought out and graceful movements… the way he treated all those around him with such kindness and respect, even the peasants could depend on him to hear a kind word once in awhile.
The Clouds and the Rain came strongly for the both of us, and soon we lay in each other’s arms. His breath was gentle and slow in his peaceful slumber. I smiled and pulled his arms tighter around me. I usually stayed awake for a little while afterwards, to let my senses see and smell and hear things that I usually couldn’t. The Clouds and the Rain always left me feeling new and refreshed, and my senses were heightened. I could hear the gentle pitter patter of the dog’s feet down from the village as they ran about silently, searching for scraps, and I could hear the wind as it passed through the blades of grass. A soft rain came gently that night, so I stood to close the shoji so that the rain could not dampen my futon. Gently, I slipped on my yukata and went outside to let myself hear and feel these things a little better, and let myself enjoy the power that I felt in my life, its energy surging and flowing through me as strong as a river.
Almost the minute I stepped out onto the veranda, my consort pulled herself out of bed and peeked out of her shoji to me and asked if I needed anything. I dismissed her and told her that I was just meditating, which was not the case, but it was almost as peaceful as doing such.
The morning came with welcoming, warm rays and a cool wind. Kenko had wakened early to get him washed and ready. I awoke to find him waiting above me, fully dressed and groomed. I smiled and licked my lips a little lazily, that familiar morning grog that I hated begging me to go back to sleep. I wiped the sleep from my eyes and sat up to face him.
“You waited for me to wake up?” I asked, and leaned into his chest lovingly.
“Of course I’d wait. I wanted my kiss.”
I looked up and smiled, and pulled him into a gentle embrace, letting him kiss me passionately before he left.
Perhaps love was just not a Christian concept after all.
Notes - I wrote this awhile ago, just after reading Shogun by James Clavell. (See, everyone? I’m not anti-Japanese… some think just because I don’t like anime and such that I am…) Eh, anyway, I just recently read it over, and was rather proud of it; after I did some minor editing of course. I think it is just simple, short and sweet, and not to be taken slowly like wine but like a cup of cold water taken at haste in noon. Does that sound arrogant? Maybe… anyway, I just wanted to share it. If I remember correctly, the two in the story are two samurai that were lovers, whom had to help kill each other for some reason or other and I THINK…. That I wrote this as a ‘night before’ kind of thing. But I found it in my original writings folder, so I don’t know. But just to be sure, I will say that the characters belong to James Clavell. I think I tried to keep the feeling of simplicity here, and I think I achieved it rather well, for having writing only be a “once-in-awhile-when-I-feel-like-it-pastime sort of thing.
I will also note that I tried to make the dialogue sound Japanese… as if directly translated from Japanese. I think I was rather successful at that, because I don’t think you would hear people talking like this nowadays. Or even the English at the time. It was all, “By God” and “Pox on that” and such. Er, yeah, if anyone was wondering about that. Um, anyway, I was going off on a tangent, it seems. Here’s the more important notes now.”
~Japanese Notes:~
“Clouds and Rain” - refers to climaxing. Yeah… o_o’
“Karma” - well, most know what this is. But I noticed in the book that it was used more to describe destiny rather than, “what goes around comes around”. *
“Pillowing” - Do I have to describe this? I don’t like being THAT tasteless! I think you get the point.
“sakazuki” - sake cups.
“sake” - if anyone doesn’t know, it is rice wine.
“hakama” - think of them as kimono pants.
“yukata” - cotton bathing/sleeping kimono.
Arcadia
A small strip of silver light passed through the slightly open shoji of my room, running up the length of my futon and wrapping up his back, like a silver piece of silk.
“The moon is beautiful tonight,” he said calmly, through his effeminate yet powerful voice. He sat meditatively on my futon, watching my garden serenely. His hair, as usual, was well oiled and tied into a meticulously neat top not. His skin was fair and pale and taut on his face, his features almost as fine as my consort’s, who was just as fair as the young blossoms on the small tree just outside. She ruled my house well, and I was glad that I had accepted has as my consort, thanking karma that I had found such a woman.
I had invited my dearest friend, Hirosaki Kenko, over for an evening meal, expecting our usual talks and then for him to be off, or for him to stay and pillow with me for the night, which often happened.
He had taken two flasks of sake at the evening meal, and I could tell that he was drunk, even though he kept his composure well. His cheeks were flushed and his words were just slightly slurred, but he did not lose face or act like a drunken fool. He talked in his calm, strong voice with me, almost as affectionately as he would to a favored lover or consort. This wasn’t normal, but I was used to him being kinder to me than he was to most of his friends. He sat stiff and straight, and I felt a pleasant warmth washing over me.
How could he remain so dignified, even with how much wine he took? And how can he still be so handsome? I wanted him… I wanted to be him. He was so beautiful and strong, and the best fighter I had ever known. He was a true samurai, and I admired everything about him. I smiled and laughed a little, curious at his silence.
“You never try to have fun, Kenko-san,” I teased. “Always so serious!”
He simply smiled back silently, and then glanced at my consort and the maids. With understanding, I dismissed them from the room, and had them take away the food, but ordered more sake to be warmed.
They shuffled out, closing the shoji softly behind them.
Kenko’s eyes now gazed at me lovingly, more lovingly than I had ever expected him to look on to me with. They were glazed from the alcohol, but there was still a clarity there that most would have missed.
I sucked in a mouthful of air as he stood and walked closer to my side of the table. He knelt in front of me, and almost carefully extended his hands to my face, smiling so calmly and lovingly…
With a porcelain smooth hand, he touched my cheek, and ran it slowly down the side of my face, under my chin and to the nape of my neck, his hand just barely going under my kimono.
“I never realized just how truly beautiful you were, Tadeo-san.” He smiled and said in a whisper. “If you were a woman, I would marry you, and we would live together forever and bear many strong sons…”
I laughed and gave him a playful shove, a furious blush over my cheeks.
“But I’m not a woman, and we can’t have sons!” I mocked, and placed my hands on my knees, kneeling over as I giggled at his comment.
The shoji slid open and a maid set down another tray with a new flask of warm sake and two small sakazuki. She quickly left and was completely unnoticed as if she had never been in there in the first place.
“I’m serious!” He said, almost hurt. “Well, if I were a woman, would you marry me?” He asked, and his playful side returned for just a moment.
“Sure. And we could have as many sons and daughters as you would want.”
He laughed, and fell over, resting his head in my lap. I benevolently allowed him to use me as his pillow.
He sighed sadly, and smiled.
“I suppose it’s my karma that I’m not a woman or that you aren’t a woman. I must have fallen in love with you in a past life as a woman, neh? Perhaps that’s why I feel the way I do about you.”
I didn’t know what to say in return. His confession of his feelings had come so easily and freely, just as freely as the water flows in the rivers. But love? I had no idea that he loved me. I thought we just pillowed, to satisfy one another’s needs…
Love was a Christian idea, a Christian concept. It shocked me to hear that he loved me. In Japanese, there was really no word for love; just for words for desire, lust, and the likes. He had said the word for desire, but I knew what he had meant. I knew enough Portuguese from the traders that came to Nippon’s shores once awhile to know that love had a completely different meaning from the words that we related to it, which were all mostly related to pillowing.
I remained silent, my breath held in my lungs, and waited for him to speak again.
“Tadeo-san?”
“Hai?”
“Do you desire me, as well?”
I took a shaken breath. Perhaps I did. Perhaps my admiration for him was actually mistaken for my love,
my desire.
“Yes, I do.” I said throatily, the sudden realization hitting me like the winds of a tai-fun.
He smiled and looked up to me, bringing his hands back up to my face again. Those porcelain fingers ran down my cheek again, and to my lips, and with sudden ferocity, he straddled my lap and kissed my deeply, with a passion I had not ever experienced, not even with my favored consort.
So we had gone into my sleeping room, and he had stripped down into just the one layer of his white under kimono, and left his hakama slightly undone, just loose enough so that he could slip them off when need be. He hadn’t taken me as quickly as I had expected him to. Instead, he opened the shoji and let the silver light filter in. For the first time in my life, I was almost afraid to pillow with him. I felt as scared and as naïve as a virgin girl on her wedding night. I forced the fear down my throat, but it would go no further, and formed a painful, nervous lump that would not go away no matter how many times I tried to swallow it.
The silken strip of moonlight disappeared from his back as he turned to face me, and stood. I kneeled, my hands resting on my knees as I tried to keep my composure. He sauntered over, still smiling his seductive smile, driving me wild.
“Isn’t life so amazing? Right now, everything seems so perfect and beautiful. I don’t even want to think about tomorrow.”
“Only now exists,” I replied in a thin and nervous but passionate whisper. No, tomorrow didn’t exist, so there was no need to think about it.
He kneeled in front of me again and took me in a soft and passionate embrace, pulling me into a tender kiss that had emotion to it that had never seemed to be there before.
Perhaps the Christians were right. This concept of actual love… it was new and exciting, and right now I was the happiest I had been since I could remember. Love had brought me happiness.
We went over to my futon and he undressed me carefully, treating me like a delicate porcelain doll that could snap should you handle it wrong. His hands explored my chest for only a moment before I took his hands in mine to stop him, and gently slipped off his under kimono and hakama.
Our naked bodies were pressed close together, the heat driving us on… the mad passion and the lust and love that we had for another, the love that we hadn’t seemed to realize until just this night.
I watched the moon through the partly open shoji as it passed over his muscular shoulder, taking in the scent of the night and the feel of his body against mine.
I could taste the rice wine on his lips as he kissed me, and I could smell the slight perfume that he always wore, and I loved it. I loved every part of him… I loved the way he was so meticulous about the way he looked and smell. I loved the way he fought with such careful, thought out and graceful movements… the way he treated all those around him with such kindness and respect, even the peasants could depend on him to hear a kind word once in awhile.
The Clouds and the Rain came strongly for the both of us, and soon we lay in each other’s arms. His breath was gentle and slow in his peaceful slumber. I smiled and pulled his arms tighter around me. I usually stayed awake for a little while afterwards, to let my senses see and smell and hear things that I usually couldn’t. The Clouds and the Rain always left me feeling new and refreshed, and my senses were heightened. I could hear the gentle pitter patter of the dog’s feet down from the village as they ran about silently, searching for scraps, and I could hear the wind as it passed through the blades of grass. A soft rain came gently that night, so I stood to close the shoji so that the rain could not dampen my futon. Gently, I slipped on my yukata and went outside to let myself hear and feel these things a little better, and let myself enjoy the power that I felt in my life, its energy surging and flowing through me as strong as a river.
Almost the minute I stepped out onto the veranda, my consort pulled herself out of bed and peeked out of her shoji to me and asked if I needed anything. I dismissed her and told her that I was just meditating, which was not the case, but it was almost as peaceful as doing such.
The morning came with welcoming, warm rays and a cool wind. Kenko had wakened early to get him washed and ready. I awoke to find him waiting above me, fully dressed and groomed. I smiled and licked my lips a little lazily, that familiar morning grog that I hated begging me to go back to sleep. I wiped the sleep from my eyes and sat up to face him.
“You waited for me to wake up?” I asked, and leaned into his chest lovingly.
“Of course I’d wait. I wanted my kiss.”
I looked up and smiled, and pulled him into a gentle embrace, letting him kiss me passionately before he left.
Perhaps love was just not a Christian concept after all.
Notes - I wrote this awhile ago, just after reading Shogun by James Clavell. (See, everyone? I’m not anti-Japanese… some think just because I don’t like anime and such that I am…) Eh, anyway, I just recently read it over, and was rather proud of it; after I did some minor editing of course. I think it is just simple, short and sweet, and not to be taken slowly like wine but like a cup of cold water taken at haste in noon. Does that sound arrogant? Maybe… anyway, I just wanted to share it. If I remember correctly, the two in the story are two samurai that were lovers, whom had to help kill each other for some reason or other and I THINK…. That I wrote this as a ‘night before’ kind of thing. But I found it in my original writings folder, so I don’t know. But just to be sure, I will say that the characters belong to James Clavell. I think I tried to keep the feeling of simplicity here, and I think I achieved it rather well, for having writing only be a “once-in-awhile-when-I-feel-like-it-pastime sort of thing.
I will also note that I tried to make the dialogue sound Japanese… as if directly translated from Japanese. I think I was rather successful at that, because I don’t think you would hear people talking like this nowadays. Or even the English at the time. It was all, “By God” and “Pox on that” and such. Er, yeah, if anyone was wondering about that. Um, anyway, I was going off on a tangent, it seems. Here’s the more important notes now.”
~Japanese Notes:~
“Clouds and Rain” - refers to climaxing. Yeah… o_o’
“Karma” - well, most know what this is. But I noticed in the book that it was used more to describe destiny rather than, “what goes around comes around”. *
“Pillowing” - Do I have to describe this? I don’t like being THAT tasteless! I think you get the point.
“sakazuki” - sake cups.
“sake” - if anyone doesn’t know, it is rice wine.
“hakama” - think of them as kimono pants.
“yukata” - cotton bathing/sleeping kimono.