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Genya Shinazugawa had never expected the mission briefing to end with him standing in front of a mirror wearing a layered kimono and heavy makeup. Tengen Uzui had insisted the disguise was necessary. The two of them would pose as high-ranking courtesans to draw out the demon that had taken Tengen’s wives. Genya’s rough features and permanent scowl made the transformation difficult, but the wig and careful powdering did enough to pass in dim lantern light.
Tengen, of course, looked unfairly good even in women’s clothing. The Sound Hashira moved with the same loud confidence he always had, jewelry chiming softly with every step. Genya kept his eyes forward and tried not to notice.
They entered the entertainment district at dusk. The streets were thick with perfume, laughter, and the low hum of shamisen music. Tengen guided them toward the house where the demon was believed to be hunting. Their cover required them to mingle, to smile, to accept sake from clients while listening for any mention of three missing women who matched the descriptions of Suma, Makio, and Hinatsuru.
Genya hated every second of it. The soft fabric felt wrong against his skin. The forced polite laughter scraped his throat. Worse was the way people looked at Tengen. Admiration. Interest. Desire. Genya’s jaw tightened every time a hand lingered too long on Tengen’s sleeve.
They found a private room on the second floor of a busy house and settled in to wait. Tengen poured them both tea and spoke in a low voice about the plan. “When the demon shows, we drop the act and cut it down. My wives come first. Everything else is secondary.”
Genya nodded. He had heard Tengen talk about the three women before. The way the Hashira’s voice softened when he said their names. The absolute certainty that he would tear the entire district apart to get them back. It should have been admirable. Instead, it sat in Genya’s chest like a hot coal.
He watched Tengen adjust a golden ornament in his hair and felt the coal flare hotter. Those women had what Genya suddenly realized he wanted. They had Tengen’s loyalty, his attention, his body in their beds. They had the perfect man Genya had spent the last few days pretending not to notice.
Tengen was loud and dramatic and ridiculous, but he was also strong, protective, and oddly kind beneath the flash. Genya had started catching himself staring at the line of Tengen’s throat, the width of his shoulders even under the borrowed kimono, the easy power in the way he moved. Now the jealousy was impossible to ignore. He wanted those things directed at him. He wanted Tengen looking at him the way he looked when he spoke of his wives.
A Tengen-sized problem, Genya thought grimly, and the problem was currently sitting across from him looking far too composed for someone in a flower-patterned robe.
“You’re quiet,” Tengen said. “Usually you at least complain about the makeup.”
Genya’s voice came out rougher than he intended. “Just focused on the mission.”
Tengen studied him for a moment, then smirked. “Liar. Something’s eating at you.”
Before Genya could answer, a servant slid open the door and announced a special client requesting the two newest courtesans. Tengen’s expression sharpened. The demon had taken the bait.
They rose together. Genya’s heart pounded for more than one reason. As they followed the servant down the hall, he made himself a quiet promise. He would help rescue the three women. He would fight beside Tengen until the demon was dead. And after that, when the mission was over, and the makeup was washed away, he would figure out what the hell to do with the fact that he wanted the Sound Hashira for himself.
The door to the private chamber opened. A figure waited inside, smiling with too many teeth. Genya stepped forward at Tengen’s side, jealousy still burning under his skin as he prepared to drop the act.