Chapter 1
gei·sha
[gey-shuh, gee-]
noun, plural gei·sha, gei·shas.
A Japanese woman trained as a professional singer, dancer, and companion for men.
Hisayo let the warm air cascade over her whilst she thought over the definition yet again. Ten days. Then that one sentence would be her very existence, everything she was obligated to live for, and everything she was required to die for. The weight of this responsibility sent a tremor from her roots, causing Hisayo to reach for the Green Tea she had prepared in the hopes that its sweet aroma would be enough to settle her. The liquid seemed to congeal in her throat, choking her, drawing judgemental looks from the other Maiko around her. Hisayo lowered her lashes and delicately covered her ruby lips with perfectly sculpted fingers, feeling ashamed of the noise she was making. The rest of the women seemed to detest her for the simple reason of who she was. Hisayo’s mind wandered back to the previous century, when the tales of the Samurai who saved the Geisha clan originated.
Rifts between Japan and the Western Countries had been present since 2098, but in the year 2103 they had finally become too big to ignore, and the plague of war had slithered out from the recesses of the Earth. Japan’s military had been decimated within a year, allowing Europe to invade the bulk of their territory, and wipe out the majority of clans. This meant all daughters and sons were precious gems, the only hope for Japan’s future, maybe the only reason Hisayo was allowed to live.
Rifts between Japan and the Western Countries had been present since 2098, but in the year 2103 they had finally become too big to ignore, and the plague of war had slithered out from the recesses of the Earth. Japan’s military had been decimated within a year, allowing Europe to invade the bulk of their territory, and wipe out the majority of clans. This meant all daughters and sons were precious gems, the only hope for Japan’s future, maybe the only reason Hisayo was allowed to live.
Hisayo remembered her mother bundling her up to look like rags before stowing her away in a set of antique drawers. Her features were obscured by fire, smoke and shadows, but her screams pierced the darkness as the Western army claimed her as their own. And that was the last Hisayo would see of her mother. That was all she could remember first-hand, but the rest of the story is a legend known by all.
The Geisha clan, the one Hisayo and her mother belonged to, was barely saved by one individual; a Samurai. According to their new laws, a woman was forbidden to know his name, but he was the one to capture the invaders general and bargain for the clan’s safety in exchange for his return. The army had no choice but to agree to this deal, and soon left the village in peace, albeit not before they had a chance to burn the pagodas and slaughter anyone who stood in their path. Although the troops left, their influence didn't and old traditions had been lost. Respect for the Geisha discipline had diminished further, and now, they were objects to be traded. Although this thought sickened her, Hisayo was glad for some form of survival, and at least she had a chance to move up in the world. Three days’ time. Then a man of good stature and wealth might just purchase her, and she could have a future.
Hisayo’s finger traced the rim of the cup on its own accord, wishing the china would sing as glass does. A faint smile had lifted the corners of her mouth as she recalled how her aunt would swell with pride when telling Hisayo about this legend, and how her father was that brave Samurai. After that day, however, he had left to live with his first family. Hisayo liked to think it was because he couldn't bear to stay here without her mother, though it was only wishful thinking. At best, Hisayo and her mother were his second family, so his priorities did not lie with them.
Hisayo was suddenly aware of the pressing silence surrounding her. The other girls seemed to have disappeared, but where had they gone? With a start, Hisayo realised the time, and scurried around to put away the tea set before she missed the evening meal. She padded as silently as possible down the long corridors, keeping her hands knotted together within the sleeves of her Kimono. Before she entered the dining hall, Hisayo knelt down and inhaled deeply.
‘Please be Salmon Tempaki…’ she repeatedly mumbled under her breath as she opened the door. Glances of disapproval were shot in her direction from all over, and a hush fell over the banquet hall. Hisayo rose to her feet and made her way to the serving station, willing the shameful blush to be hidden by her white makeup. She collected a bowl and joined the dwindling queue of sickly young women hungrily awaiting their food. As the smell of Western-Style beef and broth drifted towards her, Hisayo turned up her nose and tried not to retch. The rest of the Maiko had resumed their conversations, but one stood above all others.
'…had everything handed to her on a silver platter, and yet she still expects more?' The voice was hushed but held a degree of urgency, as if the point she was trying to make would affect everyone within the institute.Hisayo’s finger traced the rim of the cup on its own accord, wishing the china would sing as glass does. A faint smile had lifted the corners of her mouth as she recalled how her aunt would swell with pride when telling Hisayo about this legend, and how her father was that brave Samurai. After that day, however, he had left to live with his first family. Hisayo liked to think it was because he couldn't bear to stay here without her mother, though it was only wishful thinking. At best, Hisayo and her mother were his second family, so his priorities did not lie with them.
Hisayo was suddenly aware of the pressing silence surrounding her. The other girls seemed to have disappeared, but where had they gone? With a start, Hisayo realised the time, and scurried around to put away the tea set before she missed the evening meal. She padded as silently as possible down the long corridors, keeping her hands knotted together within the sleeves of her Kimono. Before she entered the dining hall, Hisayo knelt down and inhaled deeply.
‘Please be Salmon Tempaki…’ she repeatedly mumbled under her breath as she opened the door. Glances of disapproval were shot in her direction from all over, and a hush fell over the banquet hall. Hisayo rose to her feet and made her way to the serving station, willing the shameful blush to be hidden by her white makeup. She collected a bowl and joined the dwindling queue of sickly young women hungrily awaiting their food. As the smell of Western-Style beef and broth drifted towards her, Hisayo turned up her nose and tried not to retch. The rest of the Maiko had resumed their conversations, but one stood above all others.
'I’m telling you, Hisayo is bad news.'
At the sound of her name, Hisayo almost dropped her bowl. She had hoped all of this petty behaviour had been left behind, but apparently not. Despite the fact her father had been the reason for all of these girls survival, Hisayo had been tormented since arriving here. The disagreeable dinner was slopped into her bowl mercilessly, and the lunch lady locked eyes with her challengingly, knowing this was her least favourite meal. Hisayo grimaced a smile, showing off her blackened teeth - a privilege to the select few, which only seemed to exacerbate the problem. Hisayo again padded across the dining hall with her head bowed, trying to seek out a free cushion. Some of the girls moved into the few remaining ones, claiming ‘this place is taken’ or ‘you’re not allowed to sit here’. Once she finally sought out a spot and knelt down, the spattering of girls around her either shuffled along the floor away from her, or just stood up and left. Hisayo raised her knife and fork awkwardly, still preferring the traditional chop-sticks over this Westernisation, and started to try and make a credible dent in her supper.
Hisayo had finished all she could manage of the supposedly edible meal given to her, and was raising a cup of Green Tea to her lips. It was then a familiar shrill bell sounded. Hisayo froze. The scorching tea was flirting with her lips, and the tendrils of smoke seemed to burn the hair from her nose, but that was all irrelevant now. An inspection. That particular bell meant the girls had exactly one hour and a half to prepare for anonymous visitors who could be in for a chance of employing them at a later date. For a second, everyone was still and silent. Then a flurry of activity was resumed; Maikos were running around, clearing the dining room, ordering others to get ready. Hisayo barely managed to set her tea down before she was snatched away by various hands, their nails boring into her skin like scythes. She was ushered away, the clucking of her Sister chasing her down into her bedroom. The door slammed shut behind her, but as Hisayo was stripped naked, she could feel a breeze of frigid air becoming trapped against her skin.
'Where did this bruise come from?' she heard the voice of Kiiroibara, the woman who was chosen to be her supervisor - her new Sister- demand as she grabbed Hisayo's wrist. Before she was given a chance to answer, another authoritative voice bellowed across the room.
'No time for that!' cried Hōrii, 'We'll just have to cover it with something... A ribbon perhaps?'
Affirmative grunts were heard from the three other maids before they set upon her. Hisayo's hair was pulled away from the bun she had painstakingly assembled this morning, and her makeup was wiped clear. Tugging and pinching and pulling commenced as she was dressed in her second finest gown - the finest, and most traditional, gowns in the institute were being saved for ten days...
A single tear spontaneously rolled down Hisayo's cheek. It was wiped away before it had a chance to interfere with the masterpiece being assembled on her face, but the weight behind it remained.
Would he be cruel?
Would he make demands?
Would she ever get out of this alive?
The questions she had been suppressing for the years since she was granted the privilege of becoming the institutes' Chō suddenly fluttered to the surface. Hisayo didn't want to have a high rank. Hisayo didn't want to be beautiful.
Hisayo didn't want to be here.
She began looking around the sanctuary she had assembled herself over the past nineteen years she had been here, looking for a plausible escape route. The window was just large enough for her to fit through... But bars had been put in place the day she got there to prevent that. Just above the hulking bed pushed against the farthest wall was an air vent. Even if she couldn't escape the institute, perhaps she could stow away long enough to let the events pass. And if no-one came looking for her, perhaps she would starve to death, and that would be better for everyone. She started to drift toward the glimmer of hope, but a form appeared in front of her and essentially blocked off any remaining hope she clung to. The towering figure seemed larger than life, and Hisayo had to crane her neck upwards for a chance to see any distinguishable features. She was dressed ornately, and seemed to be swollen with the amount of cloth and gold encasing her, giving the illusion of wealth where most of the mistresses in the institute led a life of poverty.
'You're our last hope for a big cash-in,' the figure said matter-of-factly 'you aren't allowed to flit away that easily.' The voice alone sent ripples down Hisayo's spine, and the other three mistresses seemed to be tentative towards approaching her. Their work was completed, however, and Hisayo had been transformed from a simple Geisha to the clans Chō, maybe the most important girl there. The hulking silhouette in front of her took a step back, as if to admire her handiwork. It was only at that point that Hisayo realised who she was. The Head mistress. She began racking the archives within her mind, trying to place a name to this illusive figurehead. Su... Sol... No, Suisen. Hisayo couldn't help herself; she began analysing Suisen's features... Being an Okasaan her make-up was meant to be minimal, but it was still evident that something was amiss. The brown lipstick was dribbling at the corners of her mouth, bubbling along with the spittle collecting there. A gold hue was evident above her eyes, but Hisayo couldn't focus much beyond that. Her eyes... Hisayo soon became lost in the depths of them. Although the outside was still a dark hazelnut, the iris was surrounded by a ring of pure gold. Flakes of this appeared to have chipped away and were floating among the darker area, off-setting the simplistic beauty of this one remaining perfect feature. Suisen had apparently finished with her inspection, however, and allowed herself a twitching smile. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she soon addressed Hisayo directly.
'Come,' she said, more gently than her earlier words. 'We shall take a walk together.'
The bars of the institute slipped past Hisayo and Suisen strolled along. Five minutes left. Hisayo breathed deeply, trying to regain some form of composure. Although she hadn't let any more tears fall, whimpering sounds of discontent would bubble to the surface at random intervals, and against the steely silence between them, the whimpers were deafening. She had been preparing for this event practically her whole life, she should not have such reservations now the blessed day was finally upon them. Suisen glanced briefly back over her shoulder with a disgruntled expression. She had been walking a few paces ahead of Hisayo, but abruptly stopped after a few more steps. Hisayo almost bumped into her, but she patiently waited with her eyes down-cast, not wanting to anger Suisen by asking questions. Silence fell. The sound of crickets chirping in the distance was strangely comforting, and the smell of freshly cut grass gave Hisayo something to focus on instead of the over-powering stench of cheap perfume she had been smothered in.
'Those... Those bastards,' Suisen suddenly blurted out. Hisayo looked up inquisitively, and followed Suisen's line of sight to the ground just outside the iron bars of the institute. 'Who do they think they are?!' Suisen was now shaking with rage.
'Out with the old, in with the new' was scrawled in English, a language Hisayo had been forced to learn, and underneath was a crude image of Suisen in black and white, the only colour a startling burst of putrid green spewing from the knife wound in her chest. They had even gone so far as to draw flies around the congealing substance. Hisayo felt obligated to say something, but her mouth simply flapped open and closed, some dis-jointed sounds emerging periodically.
'I...They-' Hisayo tried. Suisen flew round on the spot, her steely gaze locking with Hisayo's.
'Go on,' she taunted 'say your piece. Say whatever it is you think will make this all better.' She gestured angrily to the image outside their institution. Hot, wild tears started to spill over her cheeks, streaking the already worn makeup. Suisen had built this business from the ground up through honest labour. It had very nearly bankrupted her. Even if some people didn't agree with the traditions upheld here, this was needless. Suisen didn't deserve this hazing any more than the next honest entrepreneur; she was simply trying to provide a better future for the girls here.
'I can't,' Hisayo had barely found her voice. 'There is nothing to make this better. The girls have done something similar to me with the tea leaves. I cried for weeks. Neither of us have done anything... We don't - deserve this...' As Hisayo was talking, Suisen's eyes had grown wider. Suisen felt sorry for her during this brief period. She was aware of some bullying, but competition among the girls was healthy. Hisayo was very beautiful, that's why she was chosen for the position of Chō within the institute, but that was through no fault of her own. The longer their gaze was connected, the more frightened Hisayo became.
Suisen turned back towards the institute with a huff, remembering the difference in their positions, and Hisayo again lowered her eyes, suddenly all too aware of her breathing, but relieved that she hadn't been prone to a fit of rage as some of her Sister was. Suisen took five steps away, but Hisayo was not sure if she was to follow. Before she had time to come to a conclusion about it, Suisen whirled back around to Hisayo, gripped her by the shoulders. and uttered barely audible words Hisayo never expected to hear.
'Never give up,' she hissed. 'I know you hate it here as much as I did. Never give in. You have to go, someone has to buy you, that isn't going to change in a hurry. But you don't have to like it.' Hisayo's eyes flew back up, and when their gazes locked, she was no longer intimidated. It had been a long time since she was as close to someone as she was to Suisen right now. A few seconds passed with the two women frozen like this, neither daring to break the new connection. Suisen's elusive figure seemed all too real in that moment to Hisayo. For the first time, she seemed human.
A different bell rang, more delicate than the first. Their time was up. Without a word, but with mutual understanding, the two women lowered their eyes to the ground and connected their hands within their sleeves. The spot where Suisen had gripped Hisayo burned under her sleeves, a vivid interpretation of the passion shared between them. Side by side, they walked back inside.
The room was walled with the thin, traditional sliding doors, long since out of fashion, but Suisen had chosen them specifically for that reason. The six girls were stood unceremoniously in a line, Hisayo directly in the middle. Each of them had their hands folded in front of them, their heads bowed and eyes averted. Hisayo heard soft sobbing to her left. She could feel the other girl trembling. As the seconds awkwardly clunked by, the sobbing intensified, turning into passionate tears. Hisayo looked over, startled when she realised who it was. The girl from the Cafeteria, the one who had been teasing her earlier. For a moment, Hisayo resumed her previous position. 'Serves her right...' she thought begrudgingly to herself. The sobbing continued, however, and Hisayo's conscience got the better of her. She tentatively reached out a hand towards the other girl, smiling at her once she looked up. The girl looked at her curiously, and just as she opened her mouth, the door flew open. Immediately Hisayo dropped her hand and cast her eyes down, respectful as she should be. The girl had managed to stifle most of her tears, but Hisayo could imagine how she was feeling. Heels clipped curtly across the floor. There was more than one man here today. The sickly sweet stench of Sake drifted into the room on their clothes, nauseating the girls there further. If they were drunk, they would be more difficult to manage. In the past, one girl had been assaulted by a potential master,and he practically left her there to die. The mistresses had managed to coax out an ambulance for her, but it was too late. The girl had to be hooked up to life support for eight months, until the Institute ran out of money. After that, they had dis-connected her, and left the girl to whither away. The men's mumbling soon turned to raucous laughter, and the image of that unfortunate girl reverberated in Hisayo's mind. Their steps were drawing ever closer. Murmurings of disapproval were becoming increasingly common, and Hisayo even heard some of the girls briefly cry out from the pain of being rough-handled.
The men were checking the meat for signs of decomposition.
Click.
Click.
Clunk.
Stop.
Glossy black shoes had materialised in Hisayo's field of vision. She counted the seconds passing by in her head, could almost see them being dragged across the floor. Suddenly talons were clawing at her cheeks pulling her head up to look into his eyes. They were captivating. The left was a milky white, blinded from something. It was most likely connected to the scar dragging from the inner corner down the contour of his nose, and to the dip in the centre of his pale lips. In direct contrast, the right eye was so dark you could almost mistake it for black. It was only after some intense concentration that Hisayo realised the abyss was his pupil - it had completely engulfed what little colour seemed to be there. The only similarity between the two eyes was the ruby colour of the surrounding skin on both of them, the tell-tale sign of the effects of some sort of drug. The final ode to this effect was the smell lingering just above his clothes. It was almost too viscous to breathe through, and it wasn't long before her breaths started to rasp. His one good eye was flicking hungrily across her features, almost in an attempt to lap up some of her beauty. Hisayo herself couldn't meet his gaze, and instead looked over his left shoulder at the three other men in the room. They were shuffling awkwardly, not wanting to be held responsible for what could happen next.
'What's the matter?' the man chided. 'Am I not pretty enough for you?' He was tilting his head to the right so he could impose on Hisayo's field of vision. His mouth was open slightly enough to let the putrid smell of him leak out and infiltrate her sense of smell, and she couldn't help but grimace. This seemed to infuriate the man, and he shook her face wildly.
'Look at me!' he roared. This sparked fear within Hisayo, and she tried to push him away. He stood his ground, however, and only tightened his grip across her cheeks. The more passionately she struggled, the more amusing he seemed to find it, and soon he was chuckling, looking over his shoulder to confirm the other men were laughing. Still shuffling awkwardly, two of the men joined in. But one stood his ground. Hisayo caught a glimpse of him as he was looking at her. She had never before seen a look so full of pity. And she hated it. The man clinging onto her soon wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled Hisayo closer towards him. He pushed her head to one side and inhaled deeply at the side of her neck, just above her collar. Hisayo pushed at the base of his throat with her fore-arms, managing to put just enough distance between them so she could spit directly into his milky eye.
The laughter stopped.
The right corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
With his right arm still wrapped around her waist, he used his left hand to slowly wipe the mess away. Hisayo froze, wondering what was going to ha-
She was on the floor.
The right side of her face was burning, it felt as if it could catch on fire any minute.
The man had struck her.
Just as soon as Hisayo was able to process this, the man was on top of her, beating at her with his fists, lashing out with his legs.
'YOU BITCH!' was all he kept bellowing, over and over, accentuating every hit. Hisayo didn't want to give him the satisfaction of screaming out, but she couldn't help herself. The pain was intense. After what felt like an eternity of this abuse, the three men were pulling him off her. The rest of the Maiko had flattened themselves against the wall, finding comfort in huddling together and clucking like hens. Hisayo was curled in a foetal position in the centre of the room, sobbing freely into the palms of her hands. Another hand was laid upon her, and she flinched wildly, expecting the onslaught to continue.
'Shh,' a voice chided. 'It's OK. The other two took him away.' Hisayo didn't dare believe it for a second. She tried to crawl away from the voice, but it held onto her shoulder firmly.
'We need to assess the damage. Come with me.' Still facing into her palm with her eyes closed, Hisayo shook her head defiantly. The man sighed. Straightening his back and bending his knees, he scooped her up into his arms. From the main room he carried her, kicking and screaming, into the infirmary.
Hisayo was laid out on her front, with her nose and mouth pushed against the grainy hospital mattress in a futile attempt to suffocate herself. Suisen had bustled into the room and swept the man who had carried Hisayo into here out, against his wishes. She had now settles herself down onto the cushion by Hisayo's head, and her discomfort was evident. The reason for this, however, still eluded Hisayo. The doctor was wrapping his hands around her thighs and pulling them firmly down her legs, checking for broken bones. The pain had not yet subsided, but she had managed to stop crying. Once his hands reached the bottom of her left leg, she couldn't help but flinch. The doctor mumbled to himself, then made a very obvious attempt to scrub his hands clean of her.
'You should be fine,' he murmured, barely audible into the scrubbing brush. 'A few lacerations and bone bruising, but nothing too serious. Stitching will be ¥50 each.' Suisen suddenly choked on thin air, but managed to suppress it quickly.
'I have a friend in the city,' she wheezed. 'They were only charged ¥10 per stitch.' There was an uncomfortable silence. The doctor took his time washing the soap from his hands, drying them methodically with a towel, and turned back towards Suisen.
'Your friend,' he said calmly. 'Is she a Geisha, too?'
'Well, no...'
'That explains everything,' he began to raise his voice so it clattered against the walls. 'Your friend did not contaminate me with her filth. The clean-up was a lot less expensive.' He threw the towel on the floor, and turned on his heel. He seemed to have an after-thought before leaving, and turned back into the room.
'Do not write a check. I expect coins soaked in vinegar before they are sent to me.' Feeling satisfied with this final cutting remark, he whirled around and slammed the door. Suisen let out a shaky sigh, and for the first time since arriving in the room, Hisayo looked up to meet her eyes. Their gazes locked in the same way as they did in the court yard, but the mutual feeling of respect seemed to be sorely lacking. Tears began welling back up in Hisayo's eyes, distorting the space around them. Suisen was the first to break the stare, sighing and looking out of the barred window at the top of the room.
'Back to your room,' Suisen said, breaking the silence which had settled in the room for the past half hour. 'I'll add the stitching charges to your debt to me.'
Hisayo stood up and straightened out her kimono. She pulled her slippers back over her socks, then approached the door. Her fingers were resting on the handle, and she was staring down at her polished nails. Anything she earned for the first three years of her career would go directly to Suisen, and now she had added at least ¥1000 to that bill. Pressing her lips together she considered protesting against it, but she had no alternative. Blowing air out of her nose, she pressed down on the handle, and opened the door.
At the sound of her name, Hisayo almost dropped her bowl. She had hoped all of this petty behaviour had been left behind, but apparently not. Despite the fact her father had been the reason for all of these girls survival, Hisayo had been tormented since arriving here. The disagreeable dinner was slopped into her bowl mercilessly, and the lunch lady locked eyes with her challengingly, knowing this was her least favourite meal. Hisayo grimaced a smile, showing off her blackened teeth - a privilege to the select few, which only seemed to exacerbate the problem. Hisayo again padded across the dining hall with her head bowed, trying to seek out a free cushion. Some of the girls moved into the few remaining ones, claiming ‘this place is taken’ or ‘you’re not allowed to sit here’. Once she finally sought out a spot and knelt down, the spattering of girls around her either shuffled along the floor away from her, or just stood up and left. Hisayo raised her knife and fork awkwardly, still preferring the traditional chop-sticks over this Westernisation, and started to try and make a credible dent in her supper.
Hisayo had finished all she could manage of the supposedly edible meal given to her, and was raising a cup of Green Tea to her lips. It was then a familiar shrill bell sounded. Hisayo froze. The scorching tea was flirting with her lips, and the tendrils of smoke seemed to burn the hair from her nose, but that was all irrelevant now. An inspection. That particular bell meant the girls had exactly one hour and a half to prepare for anonymous visitors who could be in for a chance of employing them at a later date. For a second, everyone was still and silent. Then a flurry of activity was resumed; Maikos were running around, clearing the dining room, ordering others to get ready. Hisayo barely managed to set her tea down before she was snatched away by various hands, their nails boring into her skin like scythes. She was ushered away, the clucking of her Sister chasing her down into her bedroom. The door slammed shut behind her, but as Hisayo was stripped naked, she could feel a breeze of frigid air becoming trapped against her skin.
'Where did this bruise come from?' she heard the voice of Kiiroibara, the woman who was chosen to be her supervisor - her new Sister- demand as she grabbed Hisayo's wrist. Before she was given a chance to answer, another authoritative voice bellowed across the room.
'No time for that!' cried Hōrii, 'We'll just have to cover it with something... A ribbon perhaps?'
Affirmative grunts were heard from the three other maids before they set upon her. Hisayo's hair was pulled away from the bun she had painstakingly assembled this morning, and her makeup was wiped clear. Tugging and pinching and pulling commenced as she was dressed in her second finest gown - the finest, and most traditional, gowns in the institute were being saved for ten days...
A single tear spontaneously rolled down Hisayo's cheek. It was wiped away before it had a chance to interfere with the masterpiece being assembled on her face, but the weight behind it remained.
Would he be cruel?
Would he make demands?
Would she ever get out of this alive?
The questions she had been suppressing for the years since she was granted the privilege of becoming the institutes' Chō suddenly fluttered to the surface. Hisayo didn't want to have a high rank. Hisayo didn't want to be beautiful.
Hisayo didn't want to be here.
She began looking around the sanctuary she had assembled herself over the past nineteen years she had been here, looking for a plausible escape route. The window was just large enough for her to fit through... But bars had been put in place the day she got there to prevent that. Just above the hulking bed pushed against the farthest wall was an air vent. Even if she couldn't escape the institute, perhaps she could stow away long enough to let the events pass. And if no-one came looking for her, perhaps she would starve to death, and that would be better for everyone. She started to drift toward the glimmer of hope, but a form appeared in front of her and essentially blocked off any remaining hope she clung to. The towering figure seemed larger than life, and Hisayo had to crane her neck upwards for a chance to see any distinguishable features. She was dressed ornately, and seemed to be swollen with the amount of cloth and gold encasing her, giving the illusion of wealth where most of the mistresses in the institute led a life of poverty.
'You're our last hope for a big cash-in,' the figure said matter-of-factly 'you aren't allowed to flit away that easily.' The voice alone sent ripples down Hisayo's spine, and the other three mistresses seemed to be tentative towards approaching her. Their work was completed, however, and Hisayo had been transformed from a simple Geisha to the clans Chō, maybe the most important girl there. The hulking silhouette in front of her took a step back, as if to admire her handiwork. It was only at that point that Hisayo realised who she was. The Head mistress. She began racking the archives within her mind, trying to place a name to this illusive figurehead. Su... Sol... No, Suisen. Hisayo couldn't help herself; she began analysing Suisen's features... Being an Okasaan her make-up was meant to be minimal, but it was still evident that something was amiss. The brown lipstick was dribbling at the corners of her mouth, bubbling along with the spittle collecting there. A gold hue was evident above her eyes, but Hisayo couldn't focus much beyond that. Her eyes... Hisayo soon became lost in the depths of them. Although the outside was still a dark hazelnut, the iris was surrounded by a ring of pure gold. Flakes of this appeared to have chipped away and were floating among the darker area, off-setting the simplistic beauty of this one remaining perfect feature. Suisen had apparently finished with her inspection, however, and allowed herself a twitching smile. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she soon addressed Hisayo directly.
'Come,' she said, more gently than her earlier words. 'We shall take a walk together.'
The bars of the institute slipped past Hisayo and Suisen strolled along. Five minutes left. Hisayo breathed deeply, trying to regain some form of composure. Although she hadn't let any more tears fall, whimpering sounds of discontent would bubble to the surface at random intervals, and against the steely silence between them, the whimpers were deafening. She had been preparing for this event practically her whole life, she should not have such reservations now the blessed day was finally upon them. Suisen glanced briefly back over her shoulder with a disgruntled expression. She had been walking a few paces ahead of Hisayo, but abruptly stopped after a few more steps. Hisayo almost bumped into her, but she patiently waited with her eyes down-cast, not wanting to anger Suisen by asking questions. Silence fell. The sound of crickets chirping in the distance was strangely comforting, and the smell of freshly cut grass gave Hisayo something to focus on instead of the over-powering stench of cheap perfume she had been smothered in.
'Those... Those bastards,' Suisen suddenly blurted out. Hisayo looked up inquisitively, and followed Suisen's line of sight to the ground just outside the iron bars of the institute. 'Who do they think they are?!' Suisen was now shaking with rage.
'Out with the old, in with the new' was scrawled in English, a language Hisayo had been forced to learn, and underneath was a crude image of Suisen in black and white, the only colour a startling burst of putrid green spewing from the knife wound in her chest. They had even gone so far as to draw flies around the congealing substance. Hisayo felt obligated to say something, but her mouth simply flapped open and closed, some dis-jointed sounds emerging periodically.
'I...They-' Hisayo tried. Suisen flew round on the spot, her steely gaze locking with Hisayo's.
'Go on,' she taunted 'say your piece. Say whatever it is you think will make this all better.' She gestured angrily to the image outside their institution. Hot, wild tears started to spill over her cheeks, streaking the already worn makeup. Suisen had built this business from the ground up through honest labour. It had very nearly bankrupted her. Even if some people didn't agree with the traditions upheld here, this was needless. Suisen didn't deserve this hazing any more than the next honest entrepreneur; she was simply trying to provide a better future for the girls here.
'I can't,' Hisayo had barely found her voice. 'There is nothing to make this better. The girls have done something similar to me with the tea leaves. I cried for weeks. Neither of us have done anything... We don't - deserve this...' As Hisayo was talking, Suisen's eyes had grown wider. Suisen felt sorry for her during this brief period. She was aware of some bullying, but competition among the girls was healthy. Hisayo was very beautiful, that's why she was chosen for the position of Chō within the institute, but that was through no fault of her own. The longer their gaze was connected, the more frightened Hisayo became.
Suisen turned back towards the institute with a huff, remembering the difference in their positions, and Hisayo again lowered her eyes, suddenly all too aware of her breathing, but relieved that she hadn't been prone to a fit of rage as some of her Sister was. Suisen took five steps away, but Hisayo was not sure if she was to follow. Before she had time to come to a conclusion about it, Suisen whirled back around to Hisayo, gripped her by the shoulders. and uttered barely audible words Hisayo never expected to hear.
'Never give up,' she hissed. 'I know you hate it here as much as I did. Never give in. You have to go, someone has to buy you, that isn't going to change in a hurry. But you don't have to like it.' Hisayo's eyes flew back up, and when their gazes locked, she was no longer intimidated. It had been a long time since she was as close to someone as she was to Suisen right now. A few seconds passed with the two women frozen like this, neither daring to break the new connection. Suisen's elusive figure seemed all too real in that moment to Hisayo. For the first time, she seemed human.
A different bell rang, more delicate than the first. Their time was up. Without a word, but with mutual understanding, the two women lowered their eyes to the ground and connected their hands within their sleeves. The spot where Suisen had gripped Hisayo burned under her sleeves, a vivid interpretation of the passion shared between them. Side by side, they walked back inside.
The room was walled with the thin, traditional sliding doors, long since out of fashion, but Suisen had chosen them specifically for that reason. The six girls were stood unceremoniously in a line, Hisayo directly in the middle. Each of them had their hands folded in front of them, their heads bowed and eyes averted. Hisayo heard soft sobbing to her left. She could feel the other girl trembling. As the seconds awkwardly clunked by, the sobbing intensified, turning into passionate tears. Hisayo looked over, startled when she realised who it was. The girl from the Cafeteria, the one who had been teasing her earlier. For a moment, Hisayo resumed her previous position. 'Serves her right...' she thought begrudgingly to herself. The sobbing continued, however, and Hisayo's conscience got the better of her. She tentatively reached out a hand towards the other girl, smiling at her once she looked up. The girl looked at her curiously, and just as she opened her mouth, the door flew open. Immediately Hisayo dropped her hand and cast her eyes down, respectful as she should be. The girl had managed to stifle most of her tears, but Hisayo could imagine how she was feeling. Heels clipped curtly across the floor. There was more than one man here today. The sickly sweet stench of Sake drifted into the room on their clothes, nauseating the girls there further. If they were drunk, they would be more difficult to manage. In the past, one girl had been assaulted by a potential master,and he practically left her there to die. The mistresses had managed to coax out an ambulance for her, but it was too late. The girl had to be hooked up to life support for eight months, until the Institute ran out of money. After that, they had dis-connected her, and left the girl to whither away. The men's mumbling soon turned to raucous laughter, and the image of that unfortunate girl reverberated in Hisayo's mind. Their steps were drawing ever closer. Murmurings of disapproval were becoming increasingly common, and Hisayo even heard some of the girls briefly cry out from the pain of being rough-handled.
The men were checking the meat for signs of decomposition.
Click.
Click.
Clunk.
Stop.
Glossy black shoes had materialised in Hisayo's field of vision. She counted the seconds passing by in her head, could almost see them being dragged across the floor. Suddenly talons were clawing at her cheeks pulling her head up to look into his eyes. They were captivating. The left was a milky white, blinded from something. It was most likely connected to the scar dragging from the inner corner down the contour of his nose, and to the dip in the centre of his pale lips. In direct contrast, the right eye was so dark you could almost mistake it for black. It was only after some intense concentration that Hisayo realised the abyss was his pupil - it had completely engulfed what little colour seemed to be there. The only similarity between the two eyes was the ruby colour of the surrounding skin on both of them, the tell-tale sign of the effects of some sort of drug. The final ode to this effect was the smell lingering just above his clothes. It was almost too viscous to breathe through, and it wasn't long before her breaths started to rasp. His one good eye was flicking hungrily across her features, almost in an attempt to lap up some of her beauty. Hisayo herself couldn't meet his gaze, and instead looked over his left shoulder at the three other men in the room. They were shuffling awkwardly, not wanting to be held responsible for what could happen next.
'What's the matter?' the man chided. 'Am I not pretty enough for you?' He was tilting his head to the right so he could impose on Hisayo's field of vision. His mouth was open slightly enough to let the putrid smell of him leak out and infiltrate her sense of smell, and she couldn't help but grimace. This seemed to infuriate the man, and he shook her face wildly.
'Look at me!' he roared. This sparked fear within Hisayo, and she tried to push him away. He stood his ground, however, and only tightened his grip across her cheeks. The more passionately she struggled, the more amusing he seemed to find it, and soon he was chuckling, looking over his shoulder to confirm the other men were laughing. Still shuffling awkwardly, two of the men joined in. But one stood his ground. Hisayo caught a glimpse of him as he was looking at her. She had never before seen a look so full of pity. And she hated it. The man clinging onto her soon wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled Hisayo closer towards him. He pushed her head to one side and inhaled deeply at the side of her neck, just above her collar. Hisayo pushed at the base of his throat with her fore-arms, managing to put just enough distance between them so she could spit directly into his milky eye.
The laughter stopped.
The right corner of his mouth twitched slightly.
With his right arm still wrapped around her waist, he used his left hand to slowly wipe the mess away. Hisayo froze, wondering what was going to ha-
She was on the floor.
The right side of her face was burning, it felt as if it could catch on fire any minute.
The man had struck her.
Just as soon as Hisayo was able to process this, the man was on top of her, beating at her with his fists, lashing out with his legs.
'YOU BITCH!' was all he kept bellowing, over and over, accentuating every hit. Hisayo didn't want to give him the satisfaction of screaming out, but she couldn't help herself. The pain was intense. After what felt like an eternity of this abuse, the three men were pulling him off her. The rest of the Maiko had flattened themselves against the wall, finding comfort in huddling together and clucking like hens. Hisayo was curled in a foetal position in the centre of the room, sobbing freely into the palms of her hands. Another hand was laid upon her, and she flinched wildly, expecting the onslaught to continue.
'Shh,' a voice chided. 'It's OK. The other two took him away.' Hisayo didn't dare believe it for a second. She tried to crawl away from the voice, but it held onto her shoulder firmly.
'We need to assess the damage. Come with me.' Still facing into her palm with her eyes closed, Hisayo shook her head defiantly. The man sighed. Straightening his back and bending his knees, he scooped her up into his arms. From the main room he carried her, kicking and screaming, into the infirmary.
Hisayo was laid out on her front, with her nose and mouth pushed against the grainy hospital mattress in a futile attempt to suffocate herself. Suisen had bustled into the room and swept the man who had carried Hisayo into here out, against his wishes. She had now settles herself down onto the cushion by Hisayo's head, and her discomfort was evident. The reason for this, however, still eluded Hisayo. The doctor was wrapping his hands around her thighs and pulling them firmly down her legs, checking for broken bones. The pain had not yet subsided, but she had managed to stop crying. Once his hands reached the bottom of her left leg, she couldn't help but flinch. The doctor mumbled to himself, then made a very obvious attempt to scrub his hands clean of her.
'You should be fine,' he murmured, barely audible into the scrubbing brush. 'A few lacerations and bone bruising, but nothing too serious. Stitching will be ¥50 each.' Suisen suddenly choked on thin air, but managed to suppress it quickly.
'I have a friend in the city,' she wheezed. 'They were only charged ¥10 per stitch.' There was an uncomfortable silence. The doctor took his time washing the soap from his hands, drying them methodically with a towel, and turned back towards Suisen.
'Your friend,' he said calmly. 'Is she a Geisha, too?'
'Well, no...'
'That explains everything,' he began to raise his voice so it clattered against the walls. 'Your friend did not contaminate me with her filth. The clean-up was a lot less expensive.' He threw the towel on the floor, and turned on his heel. He seemed to have an after-thought before leaving, and turned back into the room.
'Do not write a check. I expect coins soaked in vinegar before they are sent to me.' Feeling satisfied with this final cutting remark, he whirled around and slammed the door. Suisen let out a shaky sigh, and for the first time since arriving in the room, Hisayo looked up to meet her eyes. Their gazes locked in the same way as they did in the court yard, but the mutual feeling of respect seemed to be sorely lacking. Tears began welling back up in Hisayo's eyes, distorting the space around them. Suisen was the first to break the stare, sighing and looking out of the barred window at the top of the room.
'Back to your room,' Suisen said, breaking the silence which had settled in the room for the past half hour. 'I'll add the stitching charges to your debt to me.'
Hisayo stood up and straightened out her kimono. She pulled her slippers back over her socks, then approached the door. Her fingers were resting on the handle, and she was staring down at her polished nails. Anything she earned for the first three years of her career would go directly to Suisen, and now she had added at least ¥1000 to that bill. Pressing her lips together she considered protesting against it, but she had no alternative. Blowing air out of her nose, she pressed down on the handle, and opened the door.
Matthew Stoltzfus had never agreed with his father, Jacob. He had protested when Jacob had suggested moving to Japan. He had protested further when Jacob had proposed coming here. His two other brothers, Zachary and Jacob JR, were more than happy to oblige with his various whims, especially when he had first started trading drugs. But laughing at a poor girls' misfortune was too far. He was now sat outside of the infirmary, waiting for the final verdict. Looking down at his intertwined fingers, he wondered how far his father would have gone if Matthew had not pulled him off the poor girl. A sudden bang of the door bought him to his feet suddenly, and the doctor appeared with an indignant huff.'The girl will live,' he mumbled. 'Despite my best efforts.' Before Matthew had time to question this, the doctor stalked away, and he was again left alone. Sitting back down, he wondered whether he would be welcome back in the room. He stood up and put his hand on the door handle. But would he be pushed out again? He slowly let his hand drop back down to his side, and took a few quiet steps back. His palms were clammy, and the cold metal of the only Western door in the institute was a great comfort to him.'Pull yourself together,' he muttered. 'It's just a Geisha. You're better than her... You're-''Well well well,' he heard a voice from round the corner. 'Look who's feeling sorry for the hooker.' Matthew sighed, and turned back around to look his brother Jacob JR in the face. 'Go away brother,' Matthew said. 'This doesn't concern you. You were more than happy to leave the girl be.' This brought a smile to his brothers face.'Yes, well. I'm not a traitor,' The haughty tone in his voice stirred something up inside Matthew. 'I want to be included in father's will.''Then why did you pull him off her?' Matthew asked, attempting to make his voice sound authoritative. 'A dog wouldn't piss on the best chair in the house just to get attention.'
Jacob JR had obviously taken a leaf out of his father's book, and flew across the short distance between them, trapping his brother under his arm. Before he had even finished pulling his arm back to swing a hit, the man himself materialised at the end of the corridor. They all froze.
'Let your brother go,' When Jacob JR didn't immediately comply, their father lowered his chin and angled his head so he was looking him directly in the eye. 'Now, if it pleases your highness.' With that, Jacob JR did indeed let go, hooking his left leg round Matthew's right to trip him up. Pointing a finger, he opened his mouth to make an accusation. Jacob simply raised a hand.
'I will be putting in a bid for the geisha,' he said. Jacob JR tried to protest, but his father simply spoke over him. 'I will leave her to the most deserving son. So you never know. You might be included in the will after all, Jacob.' He smirked, pleased with his own wit. Jacob JR went bright red, and Matthew was too shocked to stand up. Just as he was about to rest his head against the door, it flew open, and he almost fell through the frame. There she stood. Her make-up was smeared, her red lipstick bleeding down into her chin, and streaks underneath her eyes from where she had been sobbing. The damage was not immediately evident, but it was obviously there. She had locked eyes with Matthew's father, trying to hide her shaking. Jacob's smirk widened into a grin.
'Come on,' he said merrily. 'We're leaving now.' Jacob JR happily trotted away after him, but Matthew was still on the floor.
She looked down at him with a disapproving glare.He raised his chin to look up at her.Their eyes connected.
Her eyebrow arched in obvious disgust.
Scrambling to stand up and straighten his clothes at the same time, Matthew awkwardly banged against the door frame, and he tried not to wince.
'Are-are you OK?' he asked after straightening himself up. The girl just nodded. 'I'm Matthew.' He said, extending his hand for her to shake. She simply looked down at it as if it were something she had stepped in. Suisen, the woman who had opened the doors of the institute to them, elegantly arrived in the door frame.
'Hello, Matthew,' she said, shaking his hand and smiling apologetically. 'She has not received her geisha name yet. If you are interested, we can send you a letter once it has been confirmed.' Matthew beamed. Shaking her hand enthusiastically, he looked over at the girl, hoping she would share in his eagerness. She had cast her eyes down, however, and she refused to meet his gaze. Feeling slightly deflated, he looked back to Suisen, with a less intense smile.
'I would love that,' he said. 'Really.' Suisen smiled and bowed her head slightly.
'MATTHEW!' His father bellowed from around the corner.
'That's me,' he said awkwardly. 'I better leave.' Suisen and the Maiko bowed in unison, and Matthew awkwardly went to wave, then almost saluted, then finally bowed slightly. Before he let either of them see the blush rising from his collar, he turned on his heel and sprinted back down the corridor and out of the institute, joining his father in the car outside. As they slowly drove down the path and towards the gates, he looked back at the house. Far from having a traditional exterior, it was a concrete monstrosity with barbed wire on top of the gate around the perimeter. He had spend the flight from England to Japan gazing at photographs of cherry blossoms, pagodas and wooden bridges. When they arrived here, it was all modern and almost indistinguishable from England. Matthew let out a wistful sigh, and then regretted it immediately. Turning back around to face the inside of the car, he was met with intense stares from his father and two brothers. Zachary was grinning avidly.
'Miss your sweetheart already?' he chided. 'Maybe you could write her a love letter once you get home.' Matthew struggled to come up with some sort of clever retort.
'Yeah, well,' he began. 'Shut up.' Probably his best come-back to date. Everyone in the car except Jacob SR let out an ominous 'Oooh' sound, taunting him openly. Jacob SR simply stared at him, expressionless.
'My offer still stands,' he said quietly once the laughter died down. 'If I win the bid, she will go to my most devoted son. It could be you, Matthew.' This seemed to settle the dust in the car. The three sons looked at each other under the lids of their eyes, none of them daring to provoke him further. The rest of the journey continued in an awkward silence, only broken by the breath wheezing through Zachary's chipped tooth. Matthew tried, unsuccessfully, to direct his thoughts away from the institute, but they simply refused to stay below the surface. By the time they got home, it was late in the evening. While Jacob SR stalked into the living room, a glass of brandy clutched between his fingers, the brothers retreated into their respective rooms. Laying on his bed with his arms and legs sprawled around him, he remembered the disgusted look that beautiful woman had given him. Tearing the pillow from behind his head, he slammed it over his face to try and stop the tears.
Hisayo
and Suisen made sure to hold their bows steady until the awkward young man
rounded the corner. As soon as he was out of sight, Hisayo straightened up and
tried to leave. Something was pulling her back, though. Suisen had grabbed onto
the sleeve of her kimono, and was looking her dead in the eyes.
'Remember what I said before,' she whispered. Hisayo's eyes flicked around, suddenly nervous someone had been watching the entire ordeal. She lowered her eyes and nodded slightly, still afraid she had disappointed her Okaasan Suisen tried to search her eyes for something more, but came away empty-handed. Biting the inside of her lip, she gripped the kimono a little tighter before letting it go. Hisayo bowed towards her slightly, then traced the footsteps of the man before her. Arriving at her room, she put her fingers on the handle of the door to pull it open, when she noticed something white poking out from underneath. Pulling the door back all the way, she entered her bedroom and knelt down by the door frame. A yellow crane had been folded out of origami paper and placed just inside her room. On the underside of one of the wings was written 'thank you', and underneath the other wing was 'get well soon'. Hisayo allowed herself a small smile. She closed the door with one hand, gently cradling the present in the other. She stood up and crossed over to her bed. Keeping her feet firmly planted on the floor, she sat on the thread-bare mattress and pulled on the tail of the crane to make the wings flap. Taking an immense amount of joy from this she began to giggle slightly. The bubbling laughter soon turned into hysterics, and she had to put the crane down on the bed-side table to stop herself from crushing it. The hysterical laughter reached its peak. And then made the gradual descent into tears. Shaking her head at herself, Hisayo tried to remember how many times she had cried for herself that day alone. It was too many. Opening a drawer and taking out a wet-wipe, she went to look in the mirror. Her disgraced face stared forlornly back out at her. The lipstick on her bottom lip had been smudged, creating a line down to her chin. Tears had stained the white make-up, making it bleed and disappear in meandering lines down her face. Patches of makeup had already been removed where the small cuts and bruises on her face were beginning to show, but thankfully there was nothing too disfiguring. Hisayo began pulling out the clips from her hair when a gentle rapping was heard at the door. Padding over, she opened the door, and had to blink to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks. Kiiroibara, her sister geisha, was standing a few steps back. After pausing momentarily, Hisayo stood back to let her mentor in. Kiiroibara took three long, confident strides into the room before turning to face Hisayo.
'I've come to help you remove your make-up,' she said, point-blank. Hisayo knotted her eyebrows in confusion. That was normally her job, as the younger sister. Kiiroibara knelt down on a cushion in the middle of the room, and gestured to the space in front of her. Hisayo hesitantly folded herself on the floor, handed her sister the wet-wipe, and closed her eyes.
'I heard about what happened today.' Kiiroibara finally broke the silence. Hisayo's eyes flew open and she tried to make some sort of excuse or apology.
'Keep them closed,' barked Kiiroibara, cutting off Hisayo. 'Good. How do you expect me to remove everything if your eyelids are covering half your face?'
Hisayo hoped the question was rhetorical and kept her lips firmly pressed together.
'You were very brave. Most girls wouldn't have dared to fight back. Turn around, I want to do the back of your neck,' Hisayo shuffled around on the spot, finally able to open her eyes, even if she couldn't look at her sister. She kept flinching as Kiiroibara wiped down the nape of her neck, guessing that was where the worst bruise was. 'You had just better keep hoping those nice young men are there to save you if that pervert ends up bidding the highest.' Hisayo looked down to the floor. That was probably the most heart-felt thing her sister had said to her since she was put under her control. Kiiroibara stood up.'Wow. You really take the whole geisha-silence thing seriously, don't you?' She shuffled towards the door. 'Oh, and don't worry about any other chores you might have today. We can pick up your slack. You just get an early night.'
'Let your brother go,' When Jacob JR didn't immediately comply, their father lowered his chin and angled his head so he was looking him directly in the eye. 'Now, if it pleases your highness.' With that, Jacob JR did indeed let go, hooking his left leg round Matthew's right to trip him up. Pointing a finger, he opened his mouth to make an accusation. Jacob simply raised a hand.
'I will be putting in a bid for the geisha,' he said. Jacob JR tried to protest, but his father simply spoke over him. 'I will leave her to the most deserving son. So you never know. You might be included in the will after all, Jacob.' He smirked, pleased with his own wit. Jacob JR went bright red, and Matthew was too shocked to stand up. Just as he was about to rest his head against the door, it flew open, and he almost fell through the frame. There she stood. Her make-up was smeared, her red lipstick bleeding down into her chin, and streaks underneath her eyes from where she had been sobbing. The damage was not immediately evident, but it was obviously there. She had locked eyes with Matthew's father, trying to hide her shaking. Jacob's smirk widened into a grin.
'Come on,' he said merrily. 'We're leaving now.' Jacob JR happily trotted away after him, but Matthew was still on the floor.
She looked down at him with a disapproving glare.He raised his chin to look up at her.Their eyes connected.
Her eyebrow arched in obvious disgust.
Scrambling to stand up and straighten his clothes at the same time, Matthew awkwardly banged against the door frame, and he tried not to wince.
'Are-are you OK?' he asked after straightening himself up. The girl just nodded. 'I'm Matthew.' He said, extending his hand for her to shake. She simply looked down at it as if it were something she had stepped in. Suisen, the woman who had opened the doors of the institute to them, elegantly arrived in the door frame.
'Hello, Matthew,' she said, shaking his hand and smiling apologetically. 'She has not received her geisha name yet. If you are interested, we can send you a letter once it has been confirmed.' Matthew beamed. Shaking her hand enthusiastically, he looked over at the girl, hoping she would share in his eagerness. She had cast her eyes down, however, and she refused to meet his gaze. Feeling slightly deflated, he looked back to Suisen, with a less intense smile.
'I would love that,' he said. 'Really.' Suisen smiled and bowed her head slightly.
'MATTHEW!' His father bellowed from around the corner.
'That's me,' he said awkwardly. 'I better leave.' Suisen and the Maiko bowed in unison, and Matthew awkwardly went to wave, then almost saluted, then finally bowed slightly. Before he let either of them see the blush rising from his collar, he turned on his heel and sprinted back down the corridor and out of the institute, joining his father in the car outside. As they slowly drove down the path and towards the gates, he looked back at the house. Far from having a traditional exterior, it was a concrete monstrosity with barbed wire on top of the gate around the perimeter. He had spend the flight from England to Japan gazing at photographs of cherry blossoms, pagodas and wooden bridges. When they arrived here, it was all modern and almost indistinguishable from England. Matthew let out a wistful sigh, and then regretted it immediately. Turning back around to face the inside of the car, he was met with intense stares from his father and two brothers. Zachary was grinning avidly.
'Miss your sweetheart already?' he chided. 'Maybe you could write her a love letter once you get home.' Matthew struggled to come up with some sort of clever retort.
'Yeah, well,' he began. 'Shut up.' Probably his best come-back to date. Everyone in the car except Jacob SR let out an ominous 'Oooh' sound, taunting him openly. Jacob SR simply stared at him, expressionless.
'My offer still stands,' he said quietly once the laughter died down. 'If I win the bid, she will go to my most devoted son. It could be you, Matthew.' This seemed to settle the dust in the car. The three sons looked at each other under the lids of their eyes, none of them daring to provoke him further. The rest of the journey continued in an awkward silence, only broken by the breath wheezing through Zachary's chipped tooth. Matthew tried, unsuccessfully, to direct his thoughts away from the institute, but they simply refused to stay below the surface. By the time they got home, it was late in the evening. While Jacob SR stalked into the living room, a glass of brandy clutched between his fingers, the brothers retreated into their respective rooms. Laying on his bed with his arms and legs sprawled around him, he remembered the disgusted look that beautiful woman had given him. Tearing the pillow from behind his head, he slammed it over his face to try and stop the tears.
'Remember what I said before,' she whispered. Hisayo's eyes flicked around, suddenly nervous someone had been watching the entire ordeal. She lowered her eyes and nodded slightly, still afraid she had disappointed her Okaasan Suisen tried to search her eyes for something more, but came away empty-handed. Biting the inside of her lip, she gripped the kimono a little tighter before letting it go. Hisayo bowed towards her slightly, then traced the footsteps of the man before her. Arriving at her room, she put her fingers on the handle of the door to pull it open, when she noticed something white poking out from underneath. Pulling the door back all the way, she entered her bedroom and knelt down by the door frame. A yellow crane had been folded out of origami paper and placed just inside her room. On the underside of one of the wings was written 'thank you', and underneath the other wing was 'get well soon'. Hisayo allowed herself a small smile. She closed the door with one hand, gently cradling the present in the other. She stood up and crossed over to her bed. Keeping her feet firmly planted on the floor, she sat on the thread-bare mattress and pulled on the tail of the crane to make the wings flap. Taking an immense amount of joy from this she began to giggle slightly. The bubbling laughter soon turned into hysterics, and she had to put the crane down on the bed-side table to stop herself from crushing it. The hysterical laughter reached its peak. And then made the gradual descent into tears. Shaking her head at herself, Hisayo tried to remember how many times she had cried for herself that day alone. It was too many. Opening a drawer and taking out a wet-wipe, she went to look in the mirror. Her disgraced face stared forlornly back out at her. The lipstick on her bottom lip had been smudged, creating a line down to her chin. Tears had stained the white make-up, making it bleed and disappear in meandering lines down her face. Patches of makeup had already been removed where the small cuts and bruises on her face were beginning to show, but thankfully there was nothing too disfiguring. Hisayo began pulling out the clips from her hair when a gentle rapping was heard at the door. Padding over, she opened the door, and had to blink to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks. Kiiroibara, her sister geisha, was standing a few steps back. After pausing momentarily, Hisayo stood back to let her mentor in. Kiiroibara took three long, confident strides into the room before turning to face Hisayo.
'I've come to help you remove your make-up,' she said, point-blank. Hisayo knotted her eyebrows in confusion. That was normally her job, as the younger sister. Kiiroibara knelt down on a cushion in the middle of the room, and gestured to the space in front of her. Hisayo hesitantly folded herself on the floor, handed her sister the wet-wipe, and closed her eyes.
'I heard about what happened today.' Kiiroibara finally broke the silence. Hisayo's eyes flew open and she tried to make some sort of excuse or apology.
'Keep them closed,' barked Kiiroibara, cutting off Hisayo. 'Good. How do you expect me to remove everything if your eyelids are covering half your face?'
Hisayo hoped the question was rhetorical and kept her lips firmly pressed together.
'You were very brave. Most girls wouldn't have dared to fight back. Turn around, I want to do the back of your neck,' Hisayo shuffled around on the spot, finally able to open her eyes, even if she couldn't look at her sister. She kept flinching as Kiiroibara wiped down the nape of her neck, guessing that was where the worst bruise was. 'You had just better keep hoping those nice young men are there to save you if that pervert ends up bidding the highest.' Hisayo looked down to the floor. That was probably the most heart-felt thing her sister had said to her since she was put under her control. Kiiroibara stood up.'Wow. You really take the whole geisha-silence thing seriously, don't you?' She shuffled towards the door. 'Oh, and don't worry about any other chores you might have today. We can pick up your slack. You just get an early night.'
'Thank you,' Hisayo blurted out as soon as Kiiroibara put her fingers on the
door. 'Not just for what you said, but for the crane, too.' Kiiroibara nodded,
even smiled faintly.
'You're welcome,' she said. 'But I don't make cranes.' Hisayo bowed to her as she walked out of the room, and was left to wonder who had made the crane for her. Who would feel the need to thank her? Surely that Western boy wouldn't have the skills to make something as intricate as this. Standing up to untie the knot of her Obi, she began to see her room differently from before. All of the barren walls and iron bars just drew her attention towards that one beacon of hope; that small yellow crane. Setting the various silk wrappings down on the floor, she began to remember how the simplistic beauty of the sun beating down on her face was a reality. A recurring miracle that was privy to no-one. Delicately, she laid out the various layers of her kimono on the floor, tip-toeing over them to retrieve the simple cotton pajamas from her drawer. Kneeling down to inspect each section, she noticed a few tears in the kimono itself, but through some miracle the obi was still in one beautiful, golden piece. Laying the purple kimono across her lap, she folded it into a bundle and placed it outside her door. The maids would collect it and mend it; it was pointless to just throw it out. Hisayo set to work taking down a box to put the rest of the material segments back in, and organising the box full of her hair accessories. One of her favourite clips had been chipped away, but she couldn't bare leaving her room to find the missing petals. Pulling back the covers, she settled herself awkwardly and painfully into bed. Despite the general depressive state of her day, Hisayo couldn't help but feel things might be turning in her favour. She clutched the peach flower clip against her chest, taking further solace in the cold metal against her bruised swollen chest. Just as sleep began to beckon her, she remembered how that girl standing beside her had been shaking so violently, and how her frozen fingers had felt as cool as the clip she now clutched in her hands.
A cold sweat donning her, Hisayo shook underneath the scratchy quilt. Her grip on
reality was still tenuous; it felt as if she could feel the pressure her wings
had left behind, an omnipresent coldness that was the only separation between
this world and the next. Her mouth parched, she
tentatively touched her tongue to the edge of her lips. Wishing she had a glass
of water, she searched slowly around the barren room for comfort, finding only
the bare essentials provided to her upon her arrival. The paper crane was still
nesting beside her bed, but Hisayo felt little comfort from it this time. With
her hands still shaking, she pushed the thick blanket to the bottom of the bed,
letting the slightly cooler breeze around the room wash over her. Taking a few
calming breaths, she placed her feet firmly on the floor, startled when they
came into contact with something cool and metallic. Hesitantly, she peered over
the edge, the sight and feel of that alligators cool claws tearing into her back…
Chagoi -'tea coloured'. Pale olive-drab green or brown to copper. Considered a sign of good luck.
Asagi - light blue above, red below. Occasionally pale yellow or cream, generally below lateral line and on cheeks.
Goshiki - red 'hi' pattern. Colours range from black to very pale sky blue.Shūsui - No scales apart from a long mirror line from head to tail. Most common = pale grey/sky blue above lateral line, and red or orange (extremely rarely yellow) above lateral line.
She tried to plead with Matthew, but his steely eyes kept their resolve. And he would not stop looking at her.
Sagiso dribbled through swollen lips. Her final act of defiance.
Looking down in disgust, the guard finally dropped her back down the steps, allowing her limp body to roll and twist.
Sagiso landed on her side at the foot of the temple, blood seeping from her ears and nose. Her eyes were growing so swollen it was hard to see.
Despite all of this, she still tried.
She tried to drag herself towards Tsubaki.
She tried to reach out to touch her.
But the effort was too much.
Gasping in what little putrid air she could manage, Sagiso died with one arm bent beneath her, and the other lying lamely across the fetid floor, trying to reconnect itself to the only source of light in its life.
There was no fanfare.
There was no dramatic words.
She simply slipped away.
An eerie silence befell the crowd.
At some point, Tsubaki had stopped screaming.
She just knelt there, listless, unable to comprehend the magnitude of what had just happened.
With a nod from Matthew, the guards left, and Tsubaki was left alone with him.
Ash began to settle on Sagiso's face and hair. It looked painful. Tsubaki wondered why she didn't brush it away.
She's probably so tired she doesn't want to wake up she lamely thought. Leaning forward to flick the embers away, Matthew suddenly grasped hold of her wrist.
'Stand up now-'
'No, I-'
'There we go, nice and-'
'No, I can't, I have to-'
'easy now, come with me-'
'NO,' she finally roared. Finding her strength, she lashed out and clawed Matthew across the face. He dabbed at the wound with the tip of his finger, rubbing it against his thumb to try and understand the moisture there. 'Don't you get it? I will never go with you. No matter how many people you butcher. No matter how many pagodas or bridges you tear down. I will never be your slave again. You will never have me.' Tsubaki again knelt on the floor over Sagiso, her back exposed to Matthew. She knew he had a gun somewhere. And he would probably shoot her with it. But she wanted to die near Sagiso. Near the only person she had ever really loved. Stroking her fine hair behind her ear, Tsubaki felt the need to apologize. For everything. But she had never needed to before. Apologizing now would only make Sagiso worried, and she didn't want to do that.
Tsubaki leant forward to kiss her cheek.
A vice was suddenly clamped onto her bun, and she was lifted by her hair. Matthew stood above her, an eerie calm plastered over his face. Gazing down at her, he didn't even meet her eyes. They just held their positions, intertwined, until Matthew straightened his back, forcing Tsubaki up with him. Despite her best efforts, the added strain to her hair made her wince, only urging Matthew to continue to inflict more.
She is teasing me, he thought. She deserves this. Still not breaking eye-contact, he smiled sweetly at her. Tsubaki's resolve hardened and she spat directly into his eye. For a moment, Matthew looked startlingly like his father, taking Tsubaki back to a similar occurrence in the institute. Matthew remembered this as well, chuckling quietly to himself as he wiped the spit clear from his face with his left hand. Tsubaki saw him reach towards his belt with the same hand.
She was convinced he was going to grab a gun.
Instead, the cool metal of a knife was pressed into the small of her back. Anyone watching would think they were embracing. The truth was something much more sinister.
'Come on,' his voice spilled over her like silk. 'Come home with me. I promise you won't be hurt.' He must have taken her silence as consent, as he started walking her away from the temple. Tsubaki dug her heels into the ground, standing firm. She would never leave Sagiso. There was a brief struggle. Growing frustrated, Matthew grabbed her round the waist and picked her up, awkwardly carrying Tsubaki back towards his car. She flailed and screamed, trying desperately to inflict some form of pain, even if it was to just slow him down slightly. Perhaps then she could find a way-
Tsubaki stopped struggling.
She no longer had control over her arms and legs. The hung there, lame, feeling as if they were becoming swollen with blood.
Something warm was trickling down the back of her legs, staining the already filthy kimono. Matthew dropped her onto her back.
The thin tip of the blade protruded slightly from her stomach, though it was not long enough to tear the front of her kimono.
Matthew took a few steps back, not wanting to stain his expensive shoes.
'You're welcome,' she said. 'But I don't make cranes.' Hisayo bowed to her as she walked out of the room, and was left to wonder who had made the crane for her. Who would feel the need to thank her? Surely that Western boy wouldn't have the skills to make something as intricate as this. Standing up to untie the knot of her Obi, she began to see her room differently from before. All of the barren walls and iron bars just drew her attention towards that one beacon of hope; that small yellow crane. Setting the various silk wrappings down on the floor, she began to remember how the simplistic beauty of the sun beating down on her face was a reality. A recurring miracle that was privy to no-one. Delicately, she laid out the various layers of her kimono on the floor, tip-toeing over them to retrieve the simple cotton pajamas from her drawer. Kneeling down to inspect each section, she noticed a few tears in the kimono itself, but through some miracle the obi was still in one beautiful, golden piece. Laying the purple kimono across her lap, she folded it into a bundle and placed it outside her door. The maids would collect it and mend it; it was pointless to just throw it out. Hisayo set to work taking down a box to put the rest of the material segments back in, and organising the box full of her hair accessories. One of her favourite clips had been chipped away, but she couldn't bare leaving her room to find the missing petals. Pulling back the covers, she settled herself awkwardly and painfully into bed. Despite the general depressive state of her day, Hisayo couldn't help but feel things might be turning in her favour. She clutched the peach flower clip against her chest, taking further solace in the cold metal against her bruised swollen chest. Just as sleep began to beckon her, she remembered how that girl standing beside her had been shaking so violently, and how her frozen fingers had felt as cool as the clip she now clutched in her hands.
Chapter 2
Hisayo was faintly aware she was dreaming. She woke up laid out on the
ground. The smell was fragrant and pure, not overpowering. She had a faint
memory of the village she lived in when she was a baby, and how the smell of
freshly baked bread would slither across the hills. Taking a deep breath in,
she stretched out her arms. Her fingers made contact with something almost
silky, and the grass beneath her seemed to bend. Drearily opening her eyes, she
looked over to her side. A white petal rose high above her head, piercing the
clarity of the blue sky above her. She tried to roll over to push it down, but
something was blocking her. Perhaps the swelling on her back had reached a
point where she would have to lie on her front, bed-ridden and alone. Starting to
panic, she tried to pull herself forward; moving faster than she had
anticipated, her head bumped into the petal, and a yellow mist from beneath her
was disturbed, spreading like a cloud through the gap in the flower. With a
great deal more of trepidation, she again pulled herself forward. The petal
bowed beneath her, and she found herself looking over luscious green leaves
with pointed edges, almost rubbery in texture. She crawled forward, peering
over the edge of one leaf. A small river cascaded over rocky surfaces,
filtering new water into a stream. The stream beneath her was shallow, enough
for her to see the rocky green surface underneath. Aware of flashing colours,
Hisayo moved over to the right of the leaf slightly, curious to see what was
making such beautiful patterns underneath the surface. Koi danced around each
other intricately, occasionally surfacing for the food floating at the surface.
Two koi in particular caught her eye; one with long, flowing fins, almost
serrated at the ends. The other was a blindingly white base colour, with a red
spot in the centre of its head. The fish were
somewhat separate from the larger community, and they were both
individuals. They would knot around each other delicately, with a little less
passion from the rest of the group. Almost shy about one another, the two koi
would flit up to greet, then slowly drift apart. Although these two stayed in
one position, the other koi were slowly swimming along the stream, moving down
and on with their journey, these two koi settled themselves in the water,
leaving a few centimetres between each other. Gently sleeping, they were
unaware that the rest of the group was leaving them. Hisayo was growing
nervous. If they didn't move soon, they would get left behind. Perhaps
I can just reach down and distil the water, shocking them into moving thought
Hisayo. As she moved forward on the leaf, the height became evident, and she
felt like closing her eyes in fear. Creeping forward tenderly, she would
delicately place one foot after the other, after the other, after the other...
She reached down to touch the water.
Hisayo could almost taste the crisp water flowing beneath her. If only she could stretch, she would be able to cover the last few centimetres...
A foot slipped.
She tried to regain her grip on the rubbery leaf, but before she knew it, she was tumbling out of control, down towards the surface of the water. Hisayo recalled someone telling her that if you drown in a dream, you might never wake up. Allowing her instincts to take over, she threw her arms out to either side of her.
Laying catatonic with her eyes firmly pressed together, she speculated what the afterlife would feel like.
A warm breeze caressed the side of her face, gently pressing her clothes against her skin and billowing them out again. Taking five deep breaths, she relaxed the muscles in her face, and opened her eyes.
She was staring directly at the brilliant reds and whites beneath the water, which hadn't even been remotely disturbed by her crashing into in. She tried to pull her head back to get a better look, and her clothes pressed more firmly against her this time. It felt as if she was drifting upwards with the air, and she was able to get a wider perspective of the river beneath her.
She wasn't dead.
Somehow, she had managed to stop herself from making any form of contact with the water surface at all. She thought about dropping down, remembering how the fish would be left behind. Soon enough, she was picking her feet up from the skin of the water, the trickling growing in volume, now sounding like a crashing tsunami. Gently dragging the tip of her toe along the surface, the koi were startled enough, and realised the group had left them. As they scurried down the stream, Hisayo was able to get a better look at herself. Her kimonos colours had dulled down, and were now perfectly symmetrical. The material seemed different now... Almost translucent. The close she looked, the more she noticed how the fabric was moving, wrapping itself behind her impossibly thin body, then spreading back out to surround her, the white catching the reflection on the waters surface, contrasting itself against the black.
Hisayo woke up screaming.
She reached down to touch the water.
Hisayo could almost taste the crisp water flowing beneath her. If only she could stretch, she would be able to cover the last few centimetres...
A foot slipped.
She tried to regain her grip on the rubbery leaf, but before she knew it, she was tumbling out of control, down towards the surface of the water. Hisayo recalled someone telling her that if you drown in a dream, you might never wake up. Allowing her instincts to take over, she threw her arms out to either side of her.
Laying catatonic with her eyes firmly pressed together, she speculated what the afterlife would feel like.
A warm breeze caressed the side of her face, gently pressing her clothes against her skin and billowing them out again. Taking five deep breaths, she relaxed the muscles in her face, and opened her eyes.
She was staring directly at the brilliant reds and whites beneath the water, which hadn't even been remotely disturbed by her crashing into in. She tried to pull her head back to get a better look, and her clothes pressed more firmly against her this time. It felt as if she was drifting upwards with the air, and she was able to get a wider perspective of the river beneath her.
She wasn't dead.
Somehow, she had managed to stop herself from making any form of contact with the water surface at all. She thought about dropping down, remembering how the fish would be left behind. Soon enough, she was picking her feet up from the skin of the water, the trickling growing in volume, now sounding like a crashing tsunami. Gently dragging the tip of her toe along the surface, the koi were startled enough, and realised the group had left them. As they scurried down the stream, Hisayo was able to get a better look at herself. Her kimonos colours had dulled down, and were now perfectly symmetrical. The material seemed different now... Almost translucent. The close she looked, the more she noticed how the fabric was moving, wrapping itself behind her impossibly thin body, then spreading back out to surround her, the white catching the reflection on the waters surface, contrasting itself against the black.
It was only at that point she realised why everything seemed so different.
For some reason, she had changed. Hisayo was not a geisha in this world. Hisayo was a butterfly.
For some reason, she began to panic.
Flitting about wildly, she kept crashing into different plants and trees, almost falling into the water at some point. Panting heavily, she returned to the bush where she had woken up.
Calm down, she thought impatiently to herself. It will all go back to normal when you wake up. Just enjoy the moment.
Nodding in agreement with herself, she decided to find out what bush she was standing on. Drifting slowly upwards, trying not to concentrate too much, she gazed down at the white camellia bush. She wasn't used to seeing this variety in Japan, but here it was.
The flower was comfortable, she thought inwardly. I should just wait there until the dream is over.
Flitting back towards the leaf she thought she had arrived on, Hisayo tucked her legs underneath her and sat patiently. Meditation was sometimes used in the institute when the girls grew stressed, so she tried to draw on some of those techniques. Focusing on her breathing, and with her eyes closed, she cleared her mind… of everything… apart from where the stream led to. Stretching out her wings, she opened her eye a to a narrow slit. Nothing apart from the gentle lapping of the stream could be heard around her. With no immediate peril evident, she casually took off of the flower another time, and followed the water downstream. As she looked beneath her, Hisayo became aware of the grass beneath her swirling so all the colours combined. Green from the flora and brown from the earth all mixed together, blending and molding like clay to make one intricate, animated form of art. The sky began to mimic the ground, again blending the white clouds and clear sky. Drifting fluidly in the middle of these was the water, flowing and crashing, and Hisayo herself. Enjoying the different patterns emerging, she almost forgot about paying attention to the direction of the stream. The current had grown in rapidity, now crashing more violently in little waves against each other and against the stones lining the way. Growing wider, it opened out into a small oasis. Hisayo noticed a current of red, and wondered whether it was the koi fish.
Looking closer, she realised the red was part of the water.
She felt queasy.
As she carried on following the pale red colour, it soon changed to ruby… and then crimson… The water here felt warmer.
Hisayo breathed a little more heavily, wanting to turn back but feeling obligated to carry on.
She regretted it almost immediately.
A fin drifted along the crimson water, the only white visible.
Panicking now, Hisayo saw more and more dismembered koi fish. Some of the ones she had seen previously were missing altogether.
The reason for this was soon apparent.
An Alligator sat at the waters edge on its back, bloated and satisfied. Crossing its legs and leaning back, the Alligator did not even appear to be phased by his sin. Hisayo flitted up to him, determined yet insignificant. Landing on the tip of his nose, she stamped her feet, lashing out as much as she could. Her legs were soon broken, wasted from the effort of trying to make a difference. The Alligator opened his eyes and peeled back the protective cover, crossing them in the middle to look at her. A laugh rumbled from within him, distilling the grass around him, turning it a putrid green colour. Reaching out a clawed hand, he swatted at her.
Hisayo's beautiful wings were torn, ripped beyond recognition. She fell into
the water, now almost completely crimson.For some reason, she had changed. Hisayo was not a geisha in this world. Hisayo was a butterfly.
For some reason, she began to panic.
Flitting about wildly, she kept crashing into different plants and trees, almost falling into the water at some point. Panting heavily, she returned to the bush where she had woken up.
Calm down, she thought impatiently to herself. It will all go back to normal when you wake up. Just enjoy the moment.
Nodding in agreement with herself, she decided to find out what bush she was standing on. Drifting slowly upwards, trying not to concentrate too much, she gazed down at the white camellia bush. She wasn't used to seeing this variety in Japan, but here it was.
The flower was comfortable, she thought inwardly. I should just wait there until the dream is over.
Flitting back towards the leaf she thought she had arrived on, Hisayo tucked her legs underneath her and sat patiently. Meditation was sometimes used in the institute when the girls grew stressed, so she tried to draw on some of those techniques. Focusing on her breathing, and with her eyes closed, she cleared her mind… of everything… apart from where the stream led to. Stretching out her wings, she opened her eye a to a narrow slit. Nothing apart from the gentle lapping of the stream could be heard around her. With no immediate peril evident, she casually took off of the flower another time, and followed the water downstream. As she looked beneath her, Hisayo became aware of the grass beneath her swirling so all the colours combined. Green from the flora and brown from the earth all mixed together, blending and molding like clay to make one intricate, animated form of art. The sky began to mimic the ground, again blending the white clouds and clear sky. Drifting fluidly in the middle of these was the water, flowing and crashing, and Hisayo herself. Enjoying the different patterns emerging, she almost forgot about paying attention to the direction of the stream. The current had grown in rapidity, now crashing more violently in little waves against each other and against the stones lining the way. Growing wider, it opened out into a small oasis. Hisayo noticed a current of red, and wondered whether it was the koi fish.
Looking closer, she realised the red was part of the water.
She felt queasy.
As she carried on following the pale red colour, it soon changed to ruby… and then crimson… The water here felt warmer.
Hisayo breathed a little more heavily, wanting to turn back but feeling obligated to carry on.
She regretted it almost immediately.
A fin drifted along the crimson water, the only white visible.
Panicking now, Hisayo saw more and more dismembered koi fish. Some of the ones she had seen previously were missing altogether.
The reason for this was soon apparent.
An Alligator sat at the waters edge on its back, bloated and satisfied. Crossing its legs and leaning back, the Alligator did not even appear to be phased by his sin. Hisayo flitted up to him, determined yet insignificant. Landing on the tip of his nose, she stamped her feet, lashing out as much as she could. Her legs were soon broken, wasted from the effort of trying to make a difference. The Alligator opened his eyes and peeled back the protective cover, crossing them in the middle to look at her. A laugh rumbled from within him, distilling the grass around him, turning it a putrid green colour. Reaching out a clawed hand, he swatted at her.
Hisayo woke up screaming.
Chapter
3
The pretty clip was lying beneath her foot.
Relaxing her shoulders and letting out a relieved sigh, Hisayo sat back on the bed and wondered what she should do. There was even less light than usual pouring in from the window, so it must still be early. Although Hisayo had never been religious, in any sense of the word, she felt a pressing need for some form of superior guidance. Grasping for a pair of socks and a thread-bare robe, she padded along the wooden floors and towards the door. Sliding it back, Hisayo was only just aware of the shrill noise the edges of these doors made against the frames. Closing it behind her as quickly as possible, the intense palpitations she had been feeling earlier gradually began to diminish. Twisting through the intricately spun corridors, she came to one of the most simplistic rooms in the institute. A layer of dust had settled itself on the handle from the lack of use. Pulling back the door, she crept inside.
A wall made almost entirely of mahogany was directly opposite to her. The deep brown colour was broken by one elaborate feature; the stained glass window. The sun was just beginning to emerge over the horizon, casting a ghostly glow along the floor, staining the skin of her hand various colours as it continued to rise. Closing the door behind her and pressing herself up against it, Hisayo pursed her lips together. Buddhism had now been abolished, Christianity becoming the very dominant religion. Officially, the Maiko in the institute prayed at least once a day. However, many of them resented the rule, and Suisen was slack with regards to enforcing it. Hisayo could only remember praying once in her life previously. The night she had arrived here. Creaking her way through the institute, she had stumbled upon this room unwittingly, trying to find a way out. At first she sat in a shadowed corner, trembling and crying, terrified of the imposing figure on the cross in front of her. His eyes were telling her everything she didn't want to know, and it hurt.
She had prayed for him to stop.
Now, looking up at his reproachful eyes, she almost felt something akin with the skeletal figure. Whether or not he was a real person, she would never know. The same might be said about her in a few decades. Sliding her pointed toes across the wooden, splintery floor, she slowly knelt before the imposing deity. Clasping her hands in front of her, she reflected on why she was here.
As the institute's Chō, she was safer than most of the other girls. The likelihood of someone buying her was much greater, but she was not completely safe.
If any of the girls were left behind after the coming ceremony, they would either be taken on to sister one of the Maiko, or expelled from the institute, the word
If any of the girls were left behind after the coming ceremony, they would either be taken on to sister one of the Maiko, or expelled from the institute, the word Shippai branded across their face, a permanent deterrent to the rest of the world. They were allowed to gain employment anywhere, but a reputable organisation willing to take in a geisha -and a failed one, at that- was hard to come by. Most girls resolved to live a life of prostitution or drug trade. After this, mandatory check-ins were made once a month to gradually pay off their debts to the institute. Hisayo thought about how gentle Suisen was to her, and if this happened to Hisayo, whether she would be the one to brand the word across her face.
Of course, the alternative was not much more glamorous. Even if she was purchased and her debts paid off, she would be completely in the control of the highest bidder. Whatever they did to her way beyond her power, even local law enforcements would be unable to help. Casting her mind back to the attack yesterday, she shuddered from the thought of what this might entail.
Keeping her breath shallow as she thought about where her life was going, Hisayo noticed another beat of uneven, heavy breathing. Pulling her eyebrows down towards each other, she raised her head to look at the man in front of her quizzically.
The statue was as still as ever.
There was someone at the door. Of course, the alternative was not much more glamorous. Even if she was purchased and her debts paid off, she would be completely in the control of the highest bidder. Whatever they did to her way beyond her power, even local law enforcements would be unable to help. Casting her mind back to the attack yesterday, she shuddered from the thought of what this might entail. Keeping her breath shallow as she thought about where her life was going, Hisayo noticed another beat of uneven, heavy breathing. Pulling her eyebrows down towards each other, she raised her head to look at the man in front of her quizzically.
The statue was as still as ever. There was someone at the door.
Matthew woke up lying on his front, fully clothed, a stringy line of dribble trailing its way down his cheek and onto his pillow. Rolling his tongue around lamely in his mouth he tried to sit on the edge of his bed, hoping to gain some consciousness from this supposedly simple act. Some major sort of miscalculation occurred in his brain, however, and he soon ended up splayed across the floor, the lethal blanket tangled around his gangly legs.
'Great,' he groaned. 'as if I needed to be embarrassed any more during the past 24 hours.' Finally liberating himself from his current predicament, he began to loosen his tie and take off his jacket. Whilst unbuttoning his shirt, he dragged one of his toes across the base of the wall, opening the walk-in wardrobe. Looking back over his shoulder at his trail of destruction, he wondered whose job it was to clean all of this up. His personal maid was Maria, but she was too busy looking after him to bother with trivial things such as this.
Taking off his trousers and briefs, Matthew wondered whether the geisha would be coming to live with them, and if it would soon be her job.
Just as he kicked his trousers back towards the middle of the room, a young girl walked in.
For the next five seconds, Matthew made the most awkward eye contact in his existence. The young maid was frozen with her hands on the door handle, not daring to glance to either side, let alone down.
Tentatively, almost reluctantly, she slid her left foot back over the door frame and closed the door, still maintaining eye contact. Pursing his lips and nodding slightly, Matthew turned and walked into the wardrobe with his hands on his hips, trying his best to stop this particular memory from permanently taking its place in the fore-front of his mind. Standing on the disk in the centre of the room, he let his head hang backwards as the technology took over. A cool mist encompassed him, concentrating on the parts of his body which needed to be cleaned the most thoroughly. Once it had finished, he walked forward to pick out his clothes for the day. A simple black shirt with blue jeans would suffice. He was yet to acclimatize to the warm weather here, so anything more than this would be too stifling. Getting dressed as he walked towards the door, he took a deep breath before touching the handle, then swung the door open. Trying not to yell in the face of the maid who had burst into the room a few minutes earlier, he took a few rapid steps back, banging his exposed elbow against the metal handle. His eyes watering, Matthew slipped out of the room, careful not to make any contact with the girl standing there. Walking down the polished, empty halls he rubbed his sore elbow, the realization that today was likely to be even worse than yesterday dawning on him. Opening the doors to the grand dining hall, he took his usual position at the centre of the table, looking over the toast rack at the view outside. Being the first one to breakfast, he served himself some orange juice and ordered a full English to be sent from the kitchen. Sipping on his juice and waiting for the food to arrive, he looked over the skyline. Thick, stifling smoke billowed from the buildings around the centre, the ash from these clouds settling over the city, staining most things black. He hated how ugly Japan had become. It looked just like England now, instead of the idyllic retreat he had envisioned before arriving. The steaming plate of food placed before him was charred, bringing the toxic atmosphere from the outside to the purity of the tablecloth. Twitching his nose, he picked up his knife and fork to begin gorging himself for the first time today.
When he was half way through the meal, the wide doors suddenly burst open, startling most of the servants around the perimeter of the room. Slowly turning in his chair, Matthew was not surprised to see his father drunk. Again.
'Hm, 7:30,' he mumbled, glancing down at his watch. 'That must be a new record for you, Father.' He was only given a disgruntled grunt in way of reply. Turning back to his meal he sighed and shook his head, trying to ignore the fumblings of his father as he tried to make his way to the head of the table. Almost tripping over himself he was forced to grip the edge of the table, using it as a form of loose support to reach his goal. Batting at the head of the chair lamely, he tried relentlessly to push it back. One of the butlers had to step forward to help him, pulling the chair back for him to sit on. Jacob gripped him by the front of his shirt, violently pushing him to one side.
'I don't need no stinkin' help,' he growled. 'I'm a big boy now.' The servant got back on his feet and bowed slightly, going back to his post at the side of the room. Using his left hand to hold the back of the chair, he had to help his depth perception with his right hand, using his fingers to prod at the base of the chair. Finally collapsing onto it, he rested his elbows on the table and placed his head in his hands. For the duration of this ordeal, Matthew calmly carried on eating. Now that he had finished, he placed his knife and fork together at the right side of the plate and wiped his mouth with a serviette. Thanking one of the maids as she took hi plate away, he stood up to leave.
'Where the fuck do you think you're going?' Jacob slurred without looking up.
'The museum. And then I was hoping to go on a walk and take some photos.'
'But you didn't ask. You should always ask your dear father.' Spittle was frothing at the base of his mouth, causing strands to fly out with each consonant. As he sucked the air through his teeth it made a rather unpleasant bubbling sound.
'Sit back down.' he commanded Matthew, still not looking at him. Sighing, the boy decided to indulge his father. The vintage clock over the door was the only respite from the pressing silence around the room. Looking around for the next topic of conversation, Matthew reached forward for the coffee pot.
'Would you like a cup of coffee, father?'
'I'd like to know what you saw in that whore that dazzled you so.'
Matthew paused with the pot half-turned, a thin trickle of brown liquid making its way out and onto the white table cloth. Arching his eyebrow and clearing his throat, Matthew said the first thing that came to mind.
If all getting respect took was being attacked, I wish I had known sooner she thought bitterly to herself. Trying not to look sarcastic as she returned the smiles and gestures, Hisayo decided to keep her eyes firmly planted on the heels of the girl in front of her. When it was her turn to be served, Hisayo received an extra rasher of bacon. When she gave a puzzled look to the same woman as yesterday, she was only given a wink in return. When she knelt at her cushion, the girls around her all chirped up with various 'Yoi asa' and 'Kon'nichiwa'. Her eyes watering slightly and a lump forming in her throat, Hisayo could only hope to nod in thanks, not wanting a tremble in her voice to let the composure be released. Taking time with her meal, Hisayo was one of the last ones in there.
Suisen swept in, placing her fan under girls chins to raise their heads to look at her. Hisayo knew she was looking for her, and so she stood up.
'There you are!' Suisen sighed in relief as she shuffled towards the girl. 'Come with me. Aren't you dressed yet? Well, I can help you choose an outfit for this very special day.' Hisayo saw no reason to resist, and so allowed the woman to bustle her back towards her room.
'I bet you want to know why today is so special for you,' Suisen was beaming and chatting away happily as she rifled through the drawers in Hisayo's room. 'Well, I know we were meant to wait before choosing your name. But, I thought that seeing as that boy from yesterday was so interested, we could do it today!' Hisayo tried not to sigh. She wanted to keep her name. It was the only thing in the world her parents had left her.
'Don't pout, dear. It isn't good for your skin.' Suisen took out a bright yellow kimono with a brown obi and golden wrap.
'Put that on, nice and quickly now. Oh, is this the kimono from yesterday? Tut tut tut. Doesn't that man know what a sin it is to tear a material so beautiful? Oh well, I will send it off to be repaired today.' Hisayo was standing there, waiting for Suisen to leave. It soon became evident this was not going to happen. Pursing her lips she turned around and took off the robe and her pajamas underneath. When all of her clothes were removed, Suisen suddenly stopped talking. Hisayo looked over her shoulder to see her casting her eyes over her pale body, trying to assess the damage to her favourite doll. Reaching down to grab the kimono, Hisayo quickly wrapped it around her, tying the obi around her waist as firmly as possible. Once she had tied the rope on top of this, she turned back towards Suisen to see her holding a different wig out for her from the one yesterday.
'I'll do your hair for you.' She said, leaving no room for protest. As Hisayo knelt on the floor, she wondered what people's obsession was with playing with her hair recently. Suisen was a lot less gentle than Kiiroibara, though, pulling it harshly into a clip and then shoving the wig on top. Making sure it was settled in place with a few clips, she gave Hisayo an affirmative pat on the shoulder before sniffing and opening the door for them both. Hisayo stood up and waited by the side of the door. Suisen led her outside to a heavy-duty bus with tinted windows in an attempt to hide the fact geisha were inside. Several other girls were going through the same process today. Walking onto the bus, several girls looked at her and smiled, gesturing for her to sit next to them. Not quite feeling brave enough, Hisayo took the seat next to Suisen. The automatic controls had failed on this vehicle, which is why they were able to buy it for such a low price. As a result, though, they had to hire a driver whenever they hoped to use it. A stout man with a cigarette made his way onto the bus, clearing the phlegm from the back of his throat and scratching his protruding belly as he did so. Hisayo almost wanted to move closer to the back of the bus to avoid the smell.
'That's all of us!' Suisen happily called out. Almost before she finished the sentence, the driver was careering down the path, almost crashing into the gate as it opened. Hisayo gripped onto the seat in front of her, thankful she had chosen that morning to pray. Every turn felt like they were going to topple over, which decidedly did not help Hisayo's already rattled nerves. After approximately half an hour of the thrill-ride, they were dropped off outside of a derelict building. The driver kept the engines rolling as the girls alighted, eyeing each one individually. When Suisen got off the bus, she turned around to ask him where they could meet to be picked up. With a half-glance over his shoulder to check no-one else was on the bus he slammed the doors and careered away.
'Hmph,' sighed Suisen. 'Well that was rude.'
She placed her hands on her hips as she gazed after the driver.
'Umm… Where are we, Senpai?' one of the girls asked.
'But of course, where are my manners? Girls, this is the home of the man who will appoint you with your names. Remember to be respectful, grateful and courteous.' Giving each of them a pointed look, she bounded forward to heave the gate back and rap tirelessly on the front door. A scrawny, older man with small round glasses and a bald head answered. He was wearing a red robe with yellow lining, and bowed to each of the girls as they walked in. Each of them bowed in return, and lined up along the hallway, waiting for him to lead them to the appropriate room. Checking around before closing the door, the monk made sure it was bolted properly before shuffling down the corridor to open a chipped old door. Turning around and bending his head towards Suisen, he whispered something before going in alone.
‘You’re only allowed in one at a time,’ Suisen explained once he had shut the door. ‘Teiko, you first. The rest of you, wait out here. I go in with you.’ The girls knelt in the dreary corridor together, shivering slightly from the penetrating breeze. The wait was agonizing. One by one they were called in, but Hisayo was made to wait. Some of the girls came out smiling, cradling the slip of paper with their new identity on. One girl was crying, though no-one could tell whether it was from joy or not. Finally, when all of the other girls were called in, it was Hisayo’s turn. She slowly stood up and teetered towards the door, her feet suddenly feeling too heavy to pick up off the floor. The girls all raised their heads to watch her as she walked past, witnessing the real her for the last time.
The door groaned as she opened it.
Inside this room was different to the rest of the house. This room was clean, with polished floors and walls.
Relaxing her shoulders and letting out a relieved sigh, Hisayo sat back on the bed and wondered what she should do. There was even less light than usual pouring in from the window, so it must still be early. Although Hisayo had never been religious, in any sense of the word, she felt a pressing need for some form of superior guidance. Grasping for a pair of socks and a thread-bare robe, she padded along the wooden floors and towards the door. Sliding it back, Hisayo was only just aware of the shrill noise the edges of these doors made against the frames. Closing it behind her as quickly as possible, the intense palpitations she had been feeling earlier gradually began to diminish. Twisting through the intricately spun corridors, she came to one of the most simplistic rooms in the institute. A layer of dust had settled itself on the handle from the lack of use. Pulling back the door, she crept inside.
A wall made almost entirely of mahogany was directly opposite to her. The deep brown colour was broken by one elaborate feature; the stained glass window. The sun was just beginning to emerge over the horizon, casting a ghostly glow along the floor, staining the skin of her hand various colours as it continued to rise. Closing the door behind her and pressing herself up against it, Hisayo pursed her lips together. Buddhism had now been abolished, Christianity becoming the very dominant religion. Officially, the Maiko in the institute prayed at least once a day. However, many of them resented the rule, and Suisen was slack with regards to enforcing it. Hisayo could only remember praying once in her life previously. The night she had arrived here. Creaking her way through the institute, she had stumbled upon this room unwittingly, trying to find a way out. At first she sat in a shadowed corner, trembling and crying, terrified of the imposing figure on the cross in front of her. His eyes were telling her everything she didn't want to know, and it hurt.
She had prayed for him to stop.
Now, looking up at his reproachful eyes, she almost felt something akin with the skeletal figure. Whether or not he was a real person, she would never know. The same might be said about her in a few decades. Sliding her pointed toes across the wooden, splintery floor, she slowly knelt before the imposing deity. Clasping her hands in front of her, she reflected on why she was here.
As the institute's Chō, she was safer than most of the other girls. The likelihood of someone buying her was much greater, but she was not completely safe.
If any of the girls were left behind after the coming ceremony, they would either be taken on to sister one of the Maiko, or expelled from the institute, the word
If any of the girls were left behind after the coming ceremony, they would either be taken on to sister one of the Maiko, or expelled from the institute, the word Shippai branded across their face, a permanent deterrent to the rest of the world. They were allowed to gain employment anywhere, but a reputable organisation willing to take in a geisha -and a failed one, at that- was hard to come by. Most girls resolved to live a life of prostitution or drug trade. After this, mandatory check-ins were made once a month to gradually pay off their debts to the institute. Hisayo thought about how gentle Suisen was to her, and if this happened to Hisayo, whether she would be the one to brand the word across her face.
Of course, the alternative was not much more glamorous. Even if she was purchased and her debts paid off, she would be completely in the control of the highest bidder. Whatever they did to her way beyond her power, even local law enforcements would be unable to help. Casting her mind back to the attack yesterday, she shuddered from the thought of what this might entail.
Keeping her breath shallow as she thought about where her life was going, Hisayo noticed another beat of uneven, heavy breathing. Pulling her eyebrows down towards each other, she raised her head to look at the man in front of her quizzically.
The statue was as still as ever.
There was someone at the door. Of course, the alternative was not much more glamorous. Even if she was purchased and her debts paid off, she would be completely in the control of the highest bidder. Whatever they did to her way beyond her power, even local law enforcements would be unable to help. Casting her mind back to the attack yesterday, she shuddered from the thought of what this might entail. Keeping her breath shallow as she thought about where her life was going, Hisayo noticed another beat of uneven, heavy breathing. Pulling her eyebrows down towards each other, she raised her head to look at the man in front of her quizzically.
The statue was as still as ever. There was someone at the door.
Chapter
4
Matthew woke up lying on his front, fully clothed, a stringy line of dribble trailing its way down his cheek and onto his pillow. Rolling his tongue around lamely in his mouth he tried to sit on the edge of his bed, hoping to gain some consciousness from this supposedly simple act. Some major sort of miscalculation occurred in his brain, however, and he soon ended up splayed across the floor, the lethal blanket tangled around his gangly legs.
'Great,' he groaned. 'as if I needed to be embarrassed any more during the past 24 hours.' Finally liberating himself from his current predicament, he began to loosen his tie and take off his jacket. Whilst unbuttoning his shirt, he dragged one of his toes across the base of the wall, opening the walk-in wardrobe. Looking back over his shoulder at his trail of destruction, he wondered whose job it was to clean all of this up. His personal maid was Maria, but she was too busy looking after him to bother with trivial things such as this.
Taking off his trousers and briefs, Matthew wondered whether the geisha would be coming to live with them, and if it would soon be her job.
Just as he kicked his trousers back towards the middle of the room, a young girl walked in.
For the next five seconds, Matthew made the most awkward eye contact in his existence. The young maid was frozen with her hands on the door handle, not daring to glance to either side, let alone down.
Tentatively, almost reluctantly, she slid her left foot back over the door frame and closed the door, still maintaining eye contact. Pursing his lips and nodding slightly, Matthew turned and walked into the wardrobe with his hands on his hips, trying his best to stop this particular memory from permanently taking its place in the fore-front of his mind. Standing on the disk in the centre of the room, he let his head hang backwards as the technology took over. A cool mist encompassed him, concentrating on the parts of his body which needed to be cleaned the most thoroughly. Once it had finished, he walked forward to pick out his clothes for the day. A simple black shirt with blue jeans would suffice. He was yet to acclimatize to the warm weather here, so anything more than this would be too stifling. Getting dressed as he walked towards the door, he took a deep breath before touching the handle, then swung the door open. Trying not to yell in the face of the maid who had burst into the room a few minutes earlier, he took a few rapid steps back, banging his exposed elbow against the metal handle. His eyes watering, Matthew slipped out of the room, careful not to make any contact with the girl standing there. Walking down the polished, empty halls he rubbed his sore elbow, the realization that today was likely to be even worse than yesterday dawning on him. Opening the doors to the grand dining hall, he took his usual position at the centre of the table, looking over the toast rack at the view outside. Being the first one to breakfast, he served himself some orange juice and ordered a full English to be sent from the kitchen. Sipping on his juice and waiting for the food to arrive, he looked over the skyline. Thick, stifling smoke billowed from the buildings around the centre, the ash from these clouds settling over the city, staining most things black. He hated how ugly Japan had become. It looked just like England now, instead of the idyllic retreat he had envisioned before arriving. The steaming plate of food placed before him was charred, bringing the toxic atmosphere from the outside to the purity of the tablecloth. Twitching his nose, he picked up his knife and fork to begin gorging himself for the first time today.
When he was half way through the meal, the wide doors suddenly burst open, startling most of the servants around the perimeter of the room. Slowly turning in his chair, Matthew was not surprised to see his father drunk. Again.
'Hm, 7:30,' he mumbled, glancing down at his watch. 'That must be a new record for you, Father.' He was only given a disgruntled grunt in way of reply. Turning back to his meal he sighed and shook his head, trying to ignore the fumblings of his father as he tried to make his way to the head of the table. Almost tripping over himself he was forced to grip the edge of the table, using it as a form of loose support to reach his goal. Batting at the head of the chair lamely, he tried relentlessly to push it back. One of the butlers had to step forward to help him, pulling the chair back for him to sit on. Jacob gripped him by the front of his shirt, violently pushing him to one side.
'I don't need no stinkin' help,' he growled. 'I'm a big boy now.' The servant got back on his feet and bowed slightly, going back to his post at the side of the room. Using his left hand to hold the back of the chair, he had to help his depth perception with his right hand, using his fingers to prod at the base of the chair. Finally collapsing onto it, he rested his elbows on the table and placed his head in his hands. For the duration of this ordeal, Matthew calmly carried on eating. Now that he had finished, he placed his knife and fork together at the right side of the plate and wiped his mouth with a serviette. Thanking one of the maids as she took hi plate away, he stood up to leave.
'Where the fuck do you think you're going?' Jacob slurred without looking up.
'The museum. And then I was hoping to go on a walk and take some photos.'
'But you didn't ask. You should always ask your dear father.' Spittle was frothing at the base of his mouth, causing strands to fly out with each consonant. As he sucked the air through his teeth it made a rather unpleasant bubbling sound.
'Sit back down.' he commanded Matthew, still not looking at him. Sighing, the boy decided to indulge his father. The vintage clock over the door was the only respite from the pressing silence around the room. Looking around for the next topic of conversation, Matthew reached forward for the coffee pot.
'Would you like a cup of coffee, father?'
'I'd like to know what you saw in that whore that dazzled you so.'
Matthew paused with the pot half-turned, a thin trickle of brown liquid making its way out and onto the white table cloth. Arching his eyebrow and clearing his throat, Matthew said the first thing that came to mind.
'I don't know what you mean, father.'
'Tch. If you're gonna get the hots for someone, you
should at least be open about it.'
Turning his nose up at his fathers vulgar attitude, Matthew put the coffee put down on the stain and again stood up, walking towards the door. Two servants opened it for him, but his fathers voice stopped him leaving.
'So, you don't want me to buy her, then?'
Sighing, Matthew looked down and shook his head.
'I'm of two opinions about that,' he said. 'on the one hand, I don't want her to be subjected to whatever cruel plots you have no doubt spent the night fantasizing about. On the other… Well, we all know what happens to the leftovers from a place like that.'
'It's a yes or no question, son.'
Biting the inside of his cheek, Matthew took a deep breath and swallowed his pride.
'Yes,' he said quietly. 'Yes, I would like you to buy her.'
His father began laughing. Finally letting his hands drop, he beat them loudly against the table. Rolling his eyes in attempted apathy, Matthew walked out of the room, being chased by the cackles coming from the dining room. Entering his room he noticed all of the mess from this morning had been cleaned up, and the bed had a new layer of sheets on it. Passing a hand over the surface of the back wall he opened the drawer, grabbed his camera equipment and left for the city. As he walked outside he pressed a button on a disk in his pocket, summoning the car from around the corner.
'I'll be the only passenger today,' he told the automatic controls. 'Please take me to the central museum.' A green light bleeped three times in confirmation before the car began to make its way down the front drive-way, through the gates and into the infested city.
Chapter 5
Hisayo's head whipped around, positive the man from the other day had come to finish the job. Her surveyor gasped and recoiled from the gap in the door, the sound of hurried footsteps retreating down the long corridor. When Hisayo fumbled towards the door after them, simply wanting to look at the person prying into her habits, she stood on something which made a satisfying crinkling sound. Another yellow paper crane, now almost completely destroyed, had been left for her at the door frame again. Bending down to pick it up, she looked at the underside of the wing for a new message.
Hurry up. You don't want to miss breakfast.
Biting onto her bottom lip, she placed the crane in the pocket of her robe and left the relative sanctuary of the prayer room. This time, she was early enough to not be the last in the queue for food. Looking around to see if any of the girls were slightly breathless, she was caught off guard to see some of them nod their heads in respect.
One girl even smiled at her.Turning his nose up at his fathers vulgar attitude, Matthew put the coffee put down on the stain and again stood up, walking towards the door. Two servants opened it for him, but his fathers voice stopped him leaving.
'So, you don't want me to buy her, then?'
Sighing, Matthew looked down and shook his head.
'I'm of two opinions about that,' he said. 'on the one hand, I don't want her to be subjected to whatever cruel plots you have no doubt spent the night fantasizing about. On the other… Well, we all know what happens to the leftovers from a place like that.'
'It's a yes or no question, son.'
Biting the inside of his cheek, Matthew took a deep breath and swallowed his pride.
'Yes,' he said quietly. 'Yes, I would like you to buy her.'
His father began laughing. Finally letting his hands drop, he beat them loudly against the table. Rolling his eyes in attempted apathy, Matthew walked out of the room, being chased by the cackles coming from the dining room. Entering his room he noticed all of the mess from this morning had been cleaned up, and the bed had a new layer of sheets on it. Passing a hand over the surface of the back wall he opened the drawer, grabbed his camera equipment and left for the city. As he walked outside he pressed a button on a disk in his pocket, summoning the car from around the corner.
'I'll be the only passenger today,' he told the automatic controls. 'Please take me to the central museum.' A green light bleeped three times in confirmation before the car began to make its way down the front drive-way, through the gates and into the infested city.
Chapter 5
Hisayo's head whipped around, positive the man from the other day had come to finish the job. Her surveyor gasped and recoiled from the gap in the door, the sound of hurried footsteps retreating down the long corridor. When Hisayo fumbled towards the door after them, simply wanting to look at the person prying into her habits, she stood on something which made a satisfying crinkling sound. Another yellow paper crane, now almost completely destroyed, had been left for her at the door frame again. Bending down to pick it up, she looked at the underside of the wing for a new message.
Hurry up. You don't want to miss breakfast.
Biting onto her bottom lip, she placed the crane in the pocket of her robe and left the relative sanctuary of the prayer room. This time, she was early enough to not be the last in the queue for food. Looking around to see if any of the girls were slightly breathless, she was caught off guard to see some of them nod their heads in respect.
If all getting respect took was being attacked, I wish I had known sooner she thought bitterly to herself. Trying not to look sarcastic as she returned the smiles and gestures, Hisayo decided to keep her eyes firmly planted on the heels of the girl in front of her. When it was her turn to be served, Hisayo received an extra rasher of bacon. When she gave a puzzled look to the same woman as yesterday, she was only given a wink in return. When she knelt at her cushion, the girls around her all chirped up with various 'Yoi asa' and 'Kon'nichiwa'. Her eyes watering slightly and a lump forming in her throat, Hisayo could only hope to nod in thanks, not wanting a tremble in her voice to let the composure be released. Taking time with her meal, Hisayo was one of the last ones in there.
Suisen swept in, placing her fan under girls chins to raise their heads to look at her. Hisayo knew she was looking for her, and so she stood up.
'There you are!' Suisen sighed in relief as she shuffled towards the girl. 'Come with me. Aren't you dressed yet? Well, I can help you choose an outfit for this very special day.' Hisayo saw no reason to resist, and so allowed the woman to bustle her back towards her room.
'I bet you want to know why today is so special for you,' Suisen was beaming and chatting away happily as she rifled through the drawers in Hisayo's room. 'Well, I know we were meant to wait before choosing your name. But, I thought that seeing as that boy from yesterday was so interested, we could do it today!' Hisayo tried not to sigh. She wanted to keep her name. It was the only thing in the world her parents had left her.
'Don't pout, dear. It isn't good for your skin.' Suisen took out a bright yellow kimono with a brown obi and golden wrap.
'Put that on, nice and quickly now. Oh, is this the kimono from yesterday? Tut tut tut. Doesn't that man know what a sin it is to tear a material so beautiful? Oh well, I will send it off to be repaired today.' Hisayo was standing there, waiting for Suisen to leave. It soon became evident this was not going to happen. Pursing her lips she turned around and took off the robe and her pajamas underneath. When all of her clothes were removed, Suisen suddenly stopped talking. Hisayo looked over her shoulder to see her casting her eyes over her pale body, trying to assess the damage to her favourite doll. Reaching down to grab the kimono, Hisayo quickly wrapped it around her, tying the obi around her waist as firmly as possible. Once she had tied the rope on top of this, she turned back towards Suisen to see her holding a different wig out for her from the one yesterday.
'I'll do your hair for you.' She said, leaving no room for protest. As Hisayo knelt on the floor, she wondered what people's obsession was with playing with her hair recently. Suisen was a lot less gentle than Kiiroibara, though, pulling it harshly into a clip and then shoving the wig on top. Making sure it was settled in place with a few clips, she gave Hisayo an affirmative pat on the shoulder before sniffing and opening the door for them both. Hisayo stood up and waited by the side of the door. Suisen led her outside to a heavy-duty bus with tinted windows in an attempt to hide the fact geisha were inside. Several other girls were going through the same process today. Walking onto the bus, several girls looked at her and smiled, gesturing for her to sit next to them. Not quite feeling brave enough, Hisayo took the seat next to Suisen. The automatic controls had failed on this vehicle, which is why they were able to buy it for such a low price. As a result, though, they had to hire a driver whenever they hoped to use it. A stout man with a cigarette made his way onto the bus, clearing the phlegm from the back of his throat and scratching his protruding belly as he did so. Hisayo almost wanted to move closer to the back of the bus to avoid the smell.
'That's all of us!' Suisen happily called out. Almost before she finished the sentence, the driver was careering down the path, almost crashing into the gate as it opened. Hisayo gripped onto the seat in front of her, thankful she had chosen that morning to pray. Every turn felt like they were going to topple over, which decidedly did not help Hisayo's already rattled nerves. After approximately half an hour of the thrill-ride, they were dropped off outside of a derelict building. The driver kept the engines rolling as the girls alighted, eyeing each one individually. When Suisen got off the bus, she turned around to ask him where they could meet to be picked up. With a half-glance over his shoulder to check no-one else was on the bus he slammed the doors and careered away.
'Hmph,' sighed Suisen. 'Well that was rude.'
She placed her hands on her hips as she gazed after the driver.
'Umm… Where are we, Senpai?' one of the girls asked.
'But of course, where are my manners? Girls, this is the home of the man who will appoint you with your names. Remember to be respectful, grateful and courteous.' Giving each of them a pointed look, she bounded forward to heave the gate back and rap tirelessly on the front door. A scrawny, older man with small round glasses and a bald head answered. He was wearing a red robe with yellow lining, and bowed to each of the girls as they walked in. Each of them bowed in return, and lined up along the hallway, waiting for him to lead them to the appropriate room. Checking around before closing the door, the monk made sure it was bolted properly before shuffling down the corridor to open a chipped old door. Turning around and bending his head towards Suisen, he whispered something before going in alone.
‘You’re only allowed in one at a time,’ Suisen explained once he had shut the door. ‘Teiko, you first. The rest of you, wait out here. I go in with you.’ The girls knelt in the dreary corridor together, shivering slightly from the penetrating breeze. The wait was agonizing. One by one they were called in, but Hisayo was made to wait. Some of the girls came out smiling, cradling the slip of paper with their new identity on. One girl was crying, though no-one could tell whether it was from joy or not. Finally, when all of the other girls were called in, it was Hisayo’s turn. She slowly stood up and teetered towards the door, her feet suddenly feeling too heavy to pick up off the floor. The girls all raised their heads to watch her as she walked past, witnessing the real her for the last time.
The door groaned as she opened it.
Inside this room was different to the rest of the house. This room was clean, with polished floors and walls.
Chagoi -'tea coloured'. Pale olive-drab green or brown to copper. Considered a sign of good luck.
Asagi - light blue above, red below. Occasionally pale yellow or cream, generally below lateral line and on cheeks.
Goshiki - red 'hi' pattern. Colours range from black to very pale sky blue.Shūsui - No scales apart from a long mirror line from head to tail. Most common = pale grey/sky blue above lateral line, and red or orange (extremely rarely yellow) above lateral line.
Kumonryū - black with curling white markings. Change colour with seasons. Patterns thought to look like Japanese drawings of dragons.
Butterfly koi - long, flowing fins. Colours depend on breedingTanchō - crane. One red spot on its head.
Butterfly koi - long, flowing fins. Colours depend on breedingTanchō - crane. One red spot on its head.
***WARNING***
The following has several spoilers in it, as it is the end of the story. The ending heavily influences the rest of the novel, so I decided to write it now. You can, by all means, read it now. But it will ruin the rest of the novel. The decision is yours, but I advise against it. I will keep you all posted, and tell you when I have written the rest for you to read. Until then, Heiwa.
Tsubaki Death Scene
She was stood there, firm, confident in the knowledge that this was the right thing to do. Pagodas burned around her, foundations crumbled. And, most importantly, people lay dead. That woman, lying face-up. She had made the anpan which Tsubaki had loved so much. The boy led over there, back legs in the water… or perhaps they were missing completely… she had seen him playing with the butterflies and ribbons on several occasions. The grand cherry tree growing right beside the bridge. For a moment, Tsubaki thought the petals were still falling. But they had been incinerated long ago. Red, hot ash rained down from the sky, scorching the landscape, littering it with the same luminescent qualities as those pretty petals. This was the greatest loss to her so far, but not the only one she would encounter. The rows of flowers, once brimming with tiger lilies, had now been resorted to mere smoke and ash; even the pollen floating amongst the air seemed to burn, scalding the hair on the inside of her nose. For a moment, Tsubaki remembered the first day she had met Matthew, and how the tea had given her the same feeling. Such a distant, comfortable memory; an entirely different world from the one which had become her new reality. Tsubaki recalled how the other girl trembled. Almost wanting to laugh, Tsubaki realised she couldn't remember that poor girl's name. It seemed so important now. Among all of this blood-shed, she wanted to remember every name possible. Every name of every person who had helped her, who had hindered her, who had-
There was a sudden lump in Tsubaki's throat. Tilting her chin towards the orange sky, she remembered her vow not to cry… Never to cry…
1…2…3…4…5
With each count, she took a breath. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it in her own time, and in her own way. Tsubaki had all of the time left in her world.
Strolling through the now squalid slum, Tsubaki remembered how it looked only a few hours ago. Feeling at peace with this memory, she walked with a new resolve.
The tear at the base of her kimono made it easier to take bigger steps, instead of the shuffling she had become so accustomed to. Turning left round the side of the temple, she saw him there. His back was turned to her, but she could still tell just how expensive the suit was. Matthew's hair was longer than she remembered it, now tied in an unruly pony-tail, but still the same golden colour which had haunted her for so long. Wondering whether there was a way to ambush him, she crept slowly towards the looming figure. Almost sensing her, Matthew turned on his heel and smiled sweetly.
'Finally caught your attention, then,' His voice was drenched with a feeling of dissatisfaction, the promise of empty days and forgotten nights. 'Shame it took you so long. I would have been willing to stop a while ago, if you had just turned yourself in.' Placing her hands in front of her, Tsubaki simply bowed her head and sealed her lips.
The two of them stayed standing there for an eternity.
A whole conversation passed between them, but nothing was said.
The cold stare. So cold it almost burned the inside of her skin, melting away from bone and sinew. Pulling her eyebrows over her eyes, she bent her neck forward even further, hanging her head in shame. Her taking time meant that other peoples' had been cut short. Threads snapped all around her, severing all stability in this world.
As soon as she thought about that, the strangest thing happened.
Tsubaki started to laugh.
What she was laughing at was unclear, but the laughter seemed to bubble from somewhere deep inside her. Soon erupting from the disjointed emotion, she had to put a hand over her stomach to stop it from hurting, almost kneeling down from the weight of the pressure in the air around her.
Matthew shook his head slightly, licked his lips, and waited for her to stop.
When the last bubble finally popped, she was able to regain some composure and stand up to her full height.
'Come back with me,' said Matthew suddenly. 'I will send in people to help here. The survivors will be well looked after, any damage repaired, finished to a better quality. Free of charge for the good people living here, I promise. All you have to do is come home with me.'
His proposal stirred something inside of Tsubaki. Living here had taught her that tradition was important, that she was actually worth something.
'You don't get to speak,' she spat, full of contempt. 'You don't get to disrupt so many lives in this way, on this scale, and speak as if I was the one who did something wrong.'
'Just listen-'
'No, you listen. For almost as long as I can remember, my life has been consumed by people telling me what to do, how to do it, why to do it. And at first, you were different. With time, I could have grown to accept you, perhaps even love you, instead of just pretending. Things did not have to end this way, but that is exactly what you wanted, is it not? Was there not something dark festering inside of you, waiting for some kind of release? Because that is exactly what I think happened. Did daddy not love you enough?'
Matthew just nodded.
'Well, I won't lie to you,' he said, so quietly Tsubaki almost couldn't hear it. 'That hurt a little. But you are right of course. Daddy never loved me enough, he never could. And there was something dark inside of me. But you know what? It's still there. And you are yet to see the full extent of its power.' Gesturing slightly at the man to his right, a man in a slightly shabbier suit stepped inside. Tsubaki met his gaze, not daring to break contact. She even allowed a small smile to infiltrate her features, almost taunting him.
A scream pierced the silence.
Her smile now feeling like a manic grin, she slowly moved her head towards the sound.
Sucking in air from between her teeth, the whistle was the last thing she heard aside from her own dominating heartbeat.
The man who had stalked into the depths of the temple was now emerging again.
Sagiso was struggling against the brute. Her hair was flying about gracefully, slowly. Her scorched kimono flailed about wildly, the long obi acting like a tail, adding another feral feature to her. Tears burned against her cheeks, running down with a ferocity so intense, it broke something inside Tsubaki. She lunged forward to meet Sagiso, but another brute was stopping her. Vaguely aware of screaming profanities at him, she lurched into the hulking figure, trying to use some of his strength against him. It didn't work. Instead, she tripped over her own foot and was pushed down onto the pavement, forced to kneel. At least two men were restraining her from behind, holding her head up, forcing her to watch. Sagiso managed to slip away from the guard restraining her and launched herself down the stairs, extending an arm out to Tsubaki.
She couldn't even reach back out to her.
A black figure cast a shadow over her, and yet another man appeared. Dragging her by the ankles, he pulled her back up the stairs, cracking her forehead against the marble. But she was still alive. Delirious from the pain, Sagiso went limp, but she still tried to fight. Limply using her arms to push against his chest, she muttered something incoherent, her brain too scrambled to form coherent words. The man pulled back a hand and struck her across the face.
Hard.
Gripping her in his other arm, he would not let her fall backwards. He just kept on hitting her, over and over, until her flesh was so swollen and bloody it was almost like tenderising meat.
She was stood there, firm, confident in the knowledge that this was the right thing to do. Pagodas burned around her, foundations crumbled. And, most importantly, people lay dead. That woman, lying face-up. She had made the anpan which Tsubaki had loved so much. The boy led over there, back legs in the water… or perhaps they were missing completely… she had seen him playing with the butterflies and ribbons on several occasions. The grand cherry tree growing right beside the bridge. For a moment, Tsubaki thought the petals were still falling. But they had been incinerated long ago. Red, hot ash rained down from the sky, scorching the landscape, littering it with the same luminescent qualities as those pretty petals. This was the greatest loss to her so far, but not the only one she would encounter. The rows of flowers, once brimming with tiger lilies, had now been resorted to mere smoke and ash; even the pollen floating amongst the air seemed to burn, scalding the hair on the inside of her nose. For a moment, Tsubaki remembered the first day she had met Matthew, and how the tea had given her the same feeling. Such a distant, comfortable memory; an entirely different world from the one which had become her new reality. Tsubaki recalled how the other girl trembled. Almost wanting to laugh, Tsubaki realised she couldn't remember that poor girl's name. It seemed so important now. Among all of this blood-shed, she wanted to remember every name possible. Every name of every person who had helped her, who had hindered her, who had-
There was a sudden lump in Tsubaki's throat. Tilting her chin towards the orange sky, she remembered her vow not to cry… Never to cry…
1…2…3…4…5
With each count, she took a breath. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it in her own time, and in her own way. Tsubaki had all of the time left in her world.
Strolling through the now squalid slum, Tsubaki remembered how it looked only a few hours ago. Feeling at peace with this memory, she walked with a new resolve.
The tear at the base of her kimono made it easier to take bigger steps, instead of the shuffling she had become so accustomed to. Turning left round the side of the temple, she saw him there. His back was turned to her, but she could still tell just how expensive the suit was. Matthew's hair was longer than she remembered it, now tied in an unruly pony-tail, but still the same golden colour which had haunted her for so long. Wondering whether there was a way to ambush him, she crept slowly towards the looming figure. Almost sensing her, Matthew turned on his heel and smiled sweetly.
'Finally caught your attention, then,' His voice was drenched with a feeling of dissatisfaction, the promise of empty days and forgotten nights. 'Shame it took you so long. I would have been willing to stop a while ago, if you had just turned yourself in.' Placing her hands in front of her, Tsubaki simply bowed her head and sealed her lips.
The two of them stayed standing there for an eternity.
A whole conversation passed between them, but nothing was said.
The cold stare. So cold it almost burned the inside of her skin, melting away from bone and sinew. Pulling her eyebrows over her eyes, she bent her neck forward even further, hanging her head in shame. Her taking time meant that other peoples' had been cut short. Threads snapped all around her, severing all stability in this world.
As soon as she thought about that, the strangest thing happened.
Tsubaki started to laugh.
What she was laughing at was unclear, but the laughter seemed to bubble from somewhere deep inside her. Soon erupting from the disjointed emotion, she had to put a hand over her stomach to stop it from hurting, almost kneeling down from the weight of the pressure in the air around her.
Matthew shook his head slightly, licked his lips, and waited for her to stop.
When the last bubble finally popped, she was able to regain some composure and stand up to her full height.
'Come back with me,' said Matthew suddenly. 'I will send in people to help here. The survivors will be well looked after, any damage repaired, finished to a better quality. Free of charge for the good people living here, I promise. All you have to do is come home with me.'
His proposal stirred something inside of Tsubaki. Living here had taught her that tradition was important, that she was actually worth something.
'You don't get to speak,' she spat, full of contempt. 'You don't get to disrupt so many lives in this way, on this scale, and speak as if I was the one who did something wrong.'
'Just listen-'
'No, you listen. For almost as long as I can remember, my life has been consumed by people telling me what to do, how to do it, why to do it. And at first, you were different. With time, I could have grown to accept you, perhaps even love you, instead of just pretending. Things did not have to end this way, but that is exactly what you wanted, is it not? Was there not something dark festering inside of you, waiting for some kind of release? Because that is exactly what I think happened. Did daddy not love you enough?'
Matthew just nodded.
'Well, I won't lie to you,' he said, so quietly Tsubaki almost couldn't hear it. 'That hurt a little. But you are right of course. Daddy never loved me enough, he never could. And there was something dark inside of me. But you know what? It's still there. And you are yet to see the full extent of its power.' Gesturing slightly at the man to his right, a man in a slightly shabbier suit stepped inside. Tsubaki met his gaze, not daring to break contact. She even allowed a small smile to infiltrate her features, almost taunting him.
A scream pierced the silence.
Her smile now feeling like a manic grin, she slowly moved her head towards the sound.
Sucking in air from between her teeth, the whistle was the last thing she heard aside from her own dominating heartbeat.
The man who had stalked into the depths of the temple was now emerging again.
Sagiso was struggling against the brute. Her hair was flying about gracefully, slowly. Her scorched kimono flailed about wildly, the long obi acting like a tail, adding another feral feature to her. Tears burned against her cheeks, running down with a ferocity so intense, it broke something inside Tsubaki. She lunged forward to meet Sagiso, but another brute was stopping her. Vaguely aware of screaming profanities at him, she lurched into the hulking figure, trying to use some of his strength against him. It didn't work. Instead, she tripped over her own foot and was pushed down onto the pavement, forced to kneel. At least two men were restraining her from behind, holding her head up, forcing her to watch. Sagiso managed to slip away from the guard restraining her and launched herself down the stairs, extending an arm out to Tsubaki.
She couldn't even reach back out to her.
A black figure cast a shadow over her, and yet another man appeared. Dragging her by the ankles, he pulled her back up the stairs, cracking her forehead against the marble. But she was still alive. Delirious from the pain, Sagiso went limp, but she still tried to fight. Limply using her arms to push against his chest, she muttered something incoherent, her brain too scrambled to form coherent words. The man pulled back a hand and struck her across the face.
Hard.
Gripping her in his other arm, he would not let her fall backwards. He just kept on hitting her, over and over, until her flesh was so swollen and bloody it was almost like tenderising meat.
Tsubaki never stopped
screaming.
She
wailed, called out, begged.She tried to plead with Matthew, but his steely eyes kept their resolve. And he would not stop looking at her.
Sagiso dribbled through swollen lips. Her final act of defiance.
Looking down in disgust, the guard finally dropped her back down the steps, allowing her limp body to roll and twist.
Sagiso landed on her side at the foot of the temple, blood seeping from her ears and nose. Her eyes were growing so swollen it was hard to see.
Despite all of this, she still tried.
She tried to drag herself towards Tsubaki.
She tried to reach out to touch her.
But the effort was too much.
Gasping in what little putrid air she could manage, Sagiso died with one arm bent beneath her, and the other lying lamely across the fetid floor, trying to reconnect itself to the only source of light in its life.
There was no fanfare.
There was no dramatic words.
She simply slipped away.
An eerie silence befell the crowd.
At some point, Tsubaki had stopped screaming.
She just knelt there, listless, unable to comprehend the magnitude of what had just happened.
With a nod from Matthew, the guards left, and Tsubaki was left alone with him.
Ash began to settle on Sagiso's face and hair. It looked painful. Tsubaki wondered why she didn't brush it away.
She's probably so tired she doesn't want to wake up she lamely thought. Leaning forward to flick the embers away, Matthew suddenly grasped hold of her wrist.
'Stand up now-'
'No, I-'
'There we go, nice and-'
'No, I can't, I have to-'
'easy now, come with me-'
'NO,' she finally roared. Finding her strength, she lashed out and clawed Matthew across the face. He dabbed at the wound with the tip of his finger, rubbing it against his thumb to try and understand the moisture there. 'Don't you get it? I will never go with you. No matter how many people you butcher. No matter how many pagodas or bridges you tear down. I will never be your slave again. You will never have me.' Tsubaki again knelt on the floor over Sagiso, her back exposed to Matthew. She knew he had a gun somewhere. And he would probably shoot her with it. But she wanted to die near Sagiso. Near the only person she had ever really loved. Stroking her fine hair behind her ear, Tsubaki felt the need to apologize. For everything. But she had never needed to before. Apologizing now would only make Sagiso worried, and she didn't want to do that.
Tsubaki leant forward to kiss her cheek.
A vice was suddenly clamped onto her bun, and she was lifted by her hair. Matthew stood above her, an eerie calm plastered over his face. Gazing down at her, he didn't even meet her eyes. They just held their positions, intertwined, until Matthew straightened his back, forcing Tsubaki up with him. Despite her best efforts, the added strain to her hair made her wince, only urging Matthew to continue to inflict more.
She is teasing me, he thought. She deserves this. Still not breaking eye-contact, he smiled sweetly at her. Tsubaki's resolve hardened and she spat directly into his eye. For a moment, Matthew looked startlingly like his father, taking Tsubaki back to a similar occurrence in the institute. Matthew remembered this as well, chuckling quietly to himself as he wiped the spit clear from his face with his left hand. Tsubaki saw him reach towards his belt with the same hand.
She was convinced he was going to grab a gun.
Instead, the cool metal of a knife was pressed into the small of her back. Anyone watching would think they were embracing. The truth was something much more sinister.
'Come on,' his voice spilled over her like silk. 'Come home with me. I promise you won't be hurt.' He must have taken her silence as consent, as he started walking her away from the temple. Tsubaki dug her heels into the ground, standing firm. She would never leave Sagiso. There was a brief struggle. Growing frustrated, Matthew grabbed her round the waist and picked her up, awkwardly carrying Tsubaki back towards his car. She flailed and screamed, trying desperately to inflict some form of pain, even if it was to just slow him down slightly. Perhaps then she could find a way-
Tsubaki stopped struggling.
She no longer had control over her arms and legs. The hung there, lame, feeling as if they were becoming swollen with blood.
Something warm was trickling down the back of her legs, staining the already filthy kimono. Matthew dropped her onto her back.
The thin tip of the blade protruded slightly from her stomach, though it was not long enough to tear the front of her kimono.
Matthew took a few steps back, not wanting to stain his expensive shoes.
As Tsubaki stared down the length of her arm,
she realised she could just about see Sagiso. Tsubaki's only regret was not
being able to be there once Sagiso woke up. As she tried to curl her fingers,
Tsubaki found herself finally able to relax. Just before she closed her eyes,
she saw something land daintily on her fingers. Perfectly symmetrical, with
swirling black patterns the only interruption to the white of its wings. The
butterfly, too, seemed to relax as it bought its wings together for the last
time. Hot ash landed on the connected wings, scorching flaming holes into the
diminishing figure. Tsubaki wanted to keep her eyes open just a little longer,
wishing to witness this small creatures passing. This soon became an impossible
feat.
Finally closing her eyes, Tsubaki found herself being slowly enveloped by tides of warmth, lulling her little by little towards something greater than she was able to imagine.
As Tsubaki released one final contented breath, she realised she was at peace with this.
Now the suffering really was over.
One of the neighbouring villages had alerted the police and the fire station once ash had drifted in from the East, threatening to burn down their homes. Once the emergence services traced the source, it was already too late.
A village they didn't even realise was there had been utterly incinerated.
Five days had passed, but embers and small fires were still residing in wooden homes and fauna. An investigation was launched into what would come to be known as 'The Pagoda Genocide'. After months of hard toil, they grew to suspect Matthew Stoltzfus, and searched him premises. Completely alone in a barren back room they found him, wearing only a simple cotton robe, cradling a rotting corpse, brandishing a bloody blade at anyone who came near. The staff had been fired at the approximate time of the massacre, without any replacements hired. The billionaire then went off the map, apparently stowing himself away in this room alone, food and water reserves in one corner, the opposite used to fulfill bodily needs. It took the team who found him five hours of negotiations to leave the room, which he would only agree to if he could take the body with him. She was removed upon sedation, and concluded to be a missing geisha from the last surviving institute. After her body was used as evidence in court, she was given a full Buddhist burial, her tombstone on display in the village that had been incinerated. Complying with the wishes of the institute, the village was left as it was, and only a small path put in place for people to pay their wishes to Tsubaki.
Finally closing her eyes, Tsubaki found herself being slowly enveloped by tides of warmth, lulling her little by little towards something greater than she was able to imagine.
As Tsubaki released one final contented breath, she realised she was at peace with this.
Now the suffering really was over.
The Aftermath
One of the neighbouring villages had alerted the police and the fire station once ash had drifted in from the East, threatening to burn down their homes. Once the emergence services traced the source, it was already too late.
A village they didn't even realise was there had been utterly incinerated.
Five days had passed, but embers and small fires were still residing in wooden homes and fauna. An investigation was launched into what would come to be known as 'The Pagoda Genocide'. After months of hard toil, they grew to suspect Matthew Stoltzfus, and searched him premises. Completely alone in a barren back room they found him, wearing only a simple cotton robe, cradling a rotting corpse, brandishing a bloody blade at anyone who came near. The staff had been fired at the approximate time of the massacre, without any replacements hired. The billionaire then went off the map, apparently stowing himself away in this room alone, food and water reserves in one corner, the opposite used to fulfill bodily needs. It took the team who found him five hours of negotiations to leave the room, which he would only agree to if he could take the body with him. She was removed upon sedation, and concluded to be a missing geisha from the last surviving institute. After her body was used as evidence in court, she was given a full Buddhist burial, her tombstone on display in the village that had been incinerated. Complying with the wishes of the institute, the village was left as it was, and only a small path put in place for people to pay their wishes to Tsubaki.
Her last name remains unknown.
Matthew Stoltzfus refused to answer any questions posed to him and pleaded
guilty once his sentence was dealt. After much bargaining, his lawyer removed
his life sentence, diminishing it to just ten years.
As soon as he was released, he ordered a taxi to the burial site and refused to
leave. He was found dead by a traveler one morning, leaning against the
tombstone, a peaceful smile on his face.
Jenny this is fabulous! I'm learning about Japanese tradition and enjoying the story! I had to look up some stuff, especially the black teeth thing - but yay learning!
ReplyDeleteSo far I feel sympathy towards Hiyaso, which hopefully is what we're supposed to feel, and the other girls I just want to remind them that they should be more grateful! I would love to know how her name is pronounced though! I'm looking forward to what will happen in those three days. You have explained the history/backstory and seamlessly added it into the intro, the stuff about the Samurai and the extra information you give for context makes it a lot easier to understand. I have no idea what critique to give you, because I think it's just wonderful! hehehe, I'll probably be the least helpful when it comes to critiquing either you or Holly's work, because I'll just be doing all the gushing about how amazing your stories are!
I can't wait to read more~
Haha, thank you very much, Brooklyn!
DeleteAt least you're taking enough of an interest to go and research it.
The name is pronounced 'Hee-yah-so'. I still need to decide on a last name, so that's where it gets really complicated.
Awesome, thank you again, I'll probably finish the chapter over the next few days.
Haha, thank you very much, Brooklyn!
DeleteAt least you're taking enough of an interest to go and research it.
The name is pronounced 'Hee-yah-so'. I still need to decide on a last name, so that's where it gets really complicated.
Awesome, thank you again, I'll probably finish the chapter over the next few days.
Hey Jenny!
ReplyDeleteI absolutely love this. It's completely different from anything I've ever read as I don't think I've ever read anything that's been written intensely about one specific culture.
A few things that are jumping out at me at the moment. The description of the history is genius. I love how it's the first page and you've already managed to tell the reader about Hiyaso and the Geishas' background. I also love the fact that the West is portrayed as the bad guys; it's a fab twist! I also like the little things in the draft like the range of sentence lengths that you use which builds up tension (like when she hears the alarm etc).
I feel like we already have a connection with Hiyaso, as well, which I think is quite difficult when it's written in third person. Well done!
The only thing I picked up on was the capitals. I'm not sure if kimono, green tea and head mistress have capitals but it might be different depending on what context it's in.
Anyway, lovely start, very intriguing and very intelligently written! Can't wait to read some more :D