A/N: This has been partially edited as of 2013. I have not finished editing the next two chapters too, but I will try to do so during my break. So, just a warning, parts of this chap and most of the next chapters will have a lot of grammatical errors. I am so sorry. English is just my...er 3rd language (now that I think about it [I have two native languages]), so even if I've learned it since I was young, I did not grow up immersed in any culture that uses it. Sorry *bows*
Terms to explain beforehand and a little history ^_^:
Geisha= professional hostesses trained of the arts (singing, dancing, playing instruments, flower arrangement, tea ceremony, and etc.). They are not prostitutes. Long ago there are prostitutes who claimed to be geisha girls (pronounced as geesha) to foreigners. That is why when tourists returned to their countries, they had a misunderstanding with the entertainers of Japan. One way that you can tell a prostitute from a geisha is that the former tie their obi (sash) in front. A geisha sells her art (as geisha is derived from Japanese terms that mean women and art).
Geiko= is a term for a full-fledged geisha in Kyoto. However, geisha and geiko are just the same. Geiko is another way of saying geisha. Geisha is the Tokyo dialect for geiko, on the other hand. But, the word geisha is more popular, so it has been made to be a universal word for geikos and geishas alike.
Maiko= an apprentice geisha who has to go training for 5-6 years.
Okiya= a house where geishas and maikos live. Some okiyas can also be tea houses, but usually it is only a place for living and learning geishas.
O-chaya= is a tea house where geishas gather. This is the place where geishas go during their appointments. The owner of these teahouses is the one who calls the okiya for geishas who are asked by the customers.
Pontocho= is a district in Kyoto. It is a place where there are many geisha houses and traditional tea houses.
Showa 21= 1946
Okobo=wooden slippers or clogs
Aniki= something you call an older brother with besides onii-san/chan/sama
Jinrikisha= a two-wheeled, human-drawn cart.
Susohiki= kimono worn by dancers
Oji-san= uncle
Ojou-chan= princess, my lady
XDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXD ~nya~
I had just gotten out of the bathhouse and decided to roam around a little on the streets of Pontocho district. Wearing a blue faille kimono that had metallic brocading of grasses, leaves, and ferns, I glanced at the sky.
It was nine months after the war━already Showa 21. The charred buildings had been gradually reconstructed, and the casualties had been mourned. Despite those grievances, Kyoto was still lucky to have minimal external damages than Nagasaki and Hiroshima.
Moving on...
It was a fine afternoon. The sky looked like it was about to rain. It was already spring, so it's no wonder. But, I didn't hurry to return to the okiya. Instead, I gazed around at the street carts and, in silent joy, came to buy some manju.
"Oji-san, can I have one please?" I said to the old brown-capped man who was frying them.
"Sure thing, beautiful miss." He smiled with his weathered face and placed my order in a small brown paper bag. "It's still hot, so be careful not to burn yourself."
His oily tanned hands bore scars of past scalds━so much history of battle just like the war our country waged.
"Thank you." I paid him and was about to resume walking when another man held my arm. I blinked in astonishment.
Usually, I had an umbrella with me to shoo men like him, but I forgot to bring it.
"Hey there, ojou-chan," the brawny man stated while staring at me so ill-intentionally. "Why don't we go to my place and eat that there, huh?"
Only my voice was my weapon.
Or not.
"Let me go!" I exclaimed as he gripped tighter. Don't make me hurt you!
I tried to shove my hand away.
He reeked of hard liquor, which was burning my nostrils with its sharp stench, so I wrinkled my nose.
"Heheheheh." He smirked at me and yelled to the old man vendor, "Oji-san, give me two!"
"Rather than having that with the beautiful lady, why don't you have it with me instead?" a mellifluous voice echoed, and I whipped my head around.
A young man holding an umbrella stood in front of us. He had a shiny black hair and enchanting blue eyes. He was wearing some white buttoned-up shirt and black pants. He seemed foreign with his blue gaze, but he spoke Japanese so fluently.
Hushed voices of the intrigued audience could be heard. The day was probably dull, so the small ruckus interested them.
"Why should I have it with you, eh, brat?" the man countered while swaying occasionally. "It won't taste as good as when I'll eat it with this fair lady!"
The man jerked my arm, and I yelped in pain.
Why you━! I growled inwardly. I was about to get my secret weapon when I saw the young man squinting his eyes and pointing the tip of the umbrella on the man's throat.
"If you won't let go of the young lady's hand, I'll assure you that I won't hold back." The young man sank the tip of the umbrella deeper into the man's throat. The man stepped back then while massaging his throat.
"What can you do with an umbrella anyway?!" the man croaked jauntily.
"Don't you know?" the young man questioned with a blank expression. "This is a new invention from England. It can emit fire if I push it open."
"Ha, who will believe that joke of yours?!" the man fired and lunged towards him. I shrieked as he aimed to punch the young man, but thankfully, the latter dodged it. The young man kicked the man's bottom, and the man fell head-first into a basket of potatoes. The people who saw it laughed, and the man staggered and toppled out of the basket.
Glaring at the lad, he spat, "Damn you━!"
The vendor, a tall heavyset woman, who owned the basket of potatoes he dove into, neared and glowered at him. "You've soiled my goods!"
"I-it's that boy who did!" the man responded while somehow cowering. The woman was holding a knife in her right hand; there was blood in them. It seemed like she just gutted a fish from a neighboring stall.
"You didn't care to dodge well. Now pay up!" She brandished the knife towards the intoxicated man.
"Wha━Who cares about your potatoes?!" The drunkard reddened more than he'd become already, got up, and ran away wildly in angered shame.
"He left, didn't he?" The young man winked at me, and I lifted a corner of my mouth.
"Thank you." I bowed gratefully while blushing.
I could have saved myself...though.
"It's nothing." He scratched his head while shrugging. "I lied anyway."
I perked my head up. "Huh?"
He flung open his umbrella and held it over me. I didn't even feel the rain droplets falling, but I heard and saw it then while under the protection of the stranger's umbrella. The people who were walking ran to seek shelter.
"The umbrella," he explained with a sheepish yet playful smile. "It cannot emit fire."
I peered at him closely for a moment, and after staring at each other for a few seconds, we both snickered.
"What did you buy?" he asked with a tilt of his head while blinking at the brown paper bag in my hands.
"Oh, it's manju," I told him.
"Mango?" He scratched his head again, and I smiled at him. His English accent was new yet refreshing.
"No, it's man-ju," I emphasized the syllabification. "It's like a cake or bun, but it has fillings."
"Ehh? I've never eaten any of those," he gushed. "Japan has a lot of street foods unlike England."
"Did you really come from England?" I asked, agog, and he looked at me hesitantly.
I flushed again.
"I-I'm sorry for being nosy," I bowed.
When I glanced at him once more, he was grinning at me.
"It's not really being nosy," he returned. "I'm a stranger after all, so it's only natural to ask."
He approached the brown-capped man and bought a lot of manju. The vendor was bewildered at his fortune as the lad before him paid without asking for a change.
Cheerful, the man just boffed and commented, "You've quite the appetite, young sir!"
The young man nodded with a smile. "I'm still growing, kind sir."
In result to having all his manju sold out, the vendor pushed his cart homeward quite early that day.
My eyes wide, I stared at the young man. He must be rich...
"Are you going to eat all that?" I pointed at the two large brown bags he was holding.
He chuckled at my reaction. "No. I'm going to share these with the people in our house."
"I see…"
"I think I must escort you," he appealed to me. "It is raining. Your beautiful kimono might get wet, and you'll get sick."
I shook my head. "This is only a simple kimono."
"It isn't if you're wearing it," he commented, and I flushed into crimson again.
"You're flattering me too much," I replied.
I used to ignore young men on the streets. I'd encountered many, and all they did was brag about this and that. But, that particular young man had helped me, and I found it rude to reject his offer. He wasn't a braggart and showed some restraint in divulging things about himself (unlike those young men I'd met who, in just mere minutes, had already told me their whole life history as if I was a biographer). Nor did the young man tell me how much he would earn or how much he could spend for me if I would accompany him everyday.
"I'm just stating the truth," he responded, and I became scarlet at his warm smile. He told me to lead the way, and I motioned for him to walk straight on the sidewalk.
"I'm actually Japanese," he suddenly disclosed, and I gaped at him.
The young men I'd met, when they knew they look like foreigners, had always tried to deceive me that they were truly foreigners. That their parents came from this place full of ice or that they got separated when in a ship stopping at Japan...etcetera etcetera.
I could tell they were lying; I had been observing how foreigners speak ever since I saw one of them bring home an onee-san and noticed how I couldn't understand what those mixture of sounds they'd emitted meant while my onee-san did.
The young man beside me, though, was quite honest and happy to belong to a race.
"Really? Your eyes do not seem like you are one," I pointed out, puzzled.
If he didn't say anything, there would have been an awkward silence on my way home. I couldn't help but think that it might also be because I'd kept glancing sideways at him. His eyes were just so beautiful to look at, as though I was looking at the blue sea and miraculously just felt calm.
"I grew up in England," he went on. "My brother and I seemed to have foreign predecessors."
Seemed? How come he's not sure? I peered at him eagerly.
"It's a long story." He shrugged, and I nictated. Did he just answer what I had been thinking?
"You're like reading my mind," I informed him, and he glimpsed at me.
"Do I?" He beamed.
I realized that we were already outside of the okiya. I then thanked him for accompanying me home.
" 'Kogiku okiya,' " he read the etching on the plate hovering the entrance. Afterwards, he blinked at me. "You're a geisha?"
"I'm still an apprentice," I told him.
"No wonder your beauty radiates so much," he complimented, and I turned scarlet afresh.
"I…I think I have to go," I reasoned, and he smiled at me.
"Okay." He jounced his head. "I hope we'll see each other again."
"Me too." I beamed sincerely, and I saw him blush for the first time.
"Yume, is that you?" I heard Okaa-san call from inside as I opened the gate.
"Ye-yes, Okaa-san," I returned, and before entering, I bowed to the young man once more.
I did not look back after that because his face was all in my head.
XDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXD ~nya~
Business returned as usual after the war. Okaa-san had insisted to remain in the okiya during the great struggle, so while we waited for the air raids to finally cease, we planted vegetables, donated anything that has iron to the government, and sold our kimonos for rice.
It was a good thing Okaa-san bred silkworms. If not, we would have wasted the time of war without anything to spin and weave for the future of the okiya.
Anyway, earlier that day, Okaa-san had informed me that I was expected to come to the Matomi o-chaya with Akira onee-san at 8 o'clock. So, I hurried to my room. A geisha would consume so much time applying make-up than dressing up. Besides that, the preparation of a geisha and maiko was different. Being just a maiko, I still couldn't memorize the whole process. Tatsu, okaa-san's helper, would usually assist me in putting make-up.
Okaa-san was actually a retired geisha. I didn't know other ways to call her except okaa-san because that's what my onee-san and other okiya inhabitants called her. Perhaps, all retired geishas were supposed to be called okaa-san especially when they owned an okiya.
Okaa-san was usually the one who chose the kimono I would wear. That night, she brought a cream-colored woven silk furisode (a type of kimono with long sleeves) with floral golden embroideries and pink cloud motifs. I first wore the flesh undergarment kimono, which was decorated with wild carnations and buck clover in red, aqua, and white; it had a white silk collar that matched the cream-colored kimono.
My long hair was tied up and fixed securely with ornaments and accessories. Looking at my hair, it seemed like a garland of sakura flowers. I sat in front of the mirror as Tatsu-san began to apply rice flour paste. Looking at my reflection after, if I were to omit the reddening on my face, I resembled a ghost. I couldn't help remembering the story of the snow ghost my grandfather once told me about at that moment.
After the make-up, a dangling beaded pink hairpin, as a last touch, was slipped in my hair before I donned the kimono okaa-san had chosen. I put on my slippers and moved out to meet Akira onee-san.
Akira onee-san was three years older than me. She had black hair and eyes. Her oval face was her best feature naturally because it's…errr oval. Anyway, she was my first friend in the okiya. When I was still doing household chores, she was the one who gave me candies even though I didn't do anything for her. I wasn't the only one who was doing the servant work at that time. There were a few others, and I was assigned to help another geisha. She was still a maiko back then. When I asked her why she was so kind to me, she said she reminded me of her younger sister.
The life in the okiya could be sad at times. Truthfully, most of us there were sold because of poverty. I had heard a lot of my onee-sans' stories to conclude that we were all in the same plane that's why we worked in a silent battle against the misery of our destiny.
Akira onee-san and I traversed a narrow alley to the o-chaya. The street lamps beside it were lit brightly, and I could see the figures of people on the windows of different restaurants and other tea houses. The hustle and bustle that could be heard that early night reverberated and disguised the tapping of my okobo on the stone steps.
Pontocho was one of the flower towns or geisha districts in Kyoto. At day, it might seem oblivious and rather unattractive with the crooked narrow pathways and oddly stuck-together buildings. But at night, dozens of colorful images would strike your eyes at different angles.
In relief, we stopped at the humble entrance of Matomi o-chaya. Gleeful noises emitted just above the anteroom where the reception's desk stood. Akira onee-san approached the owner of the o-chaya, Matomi herself, to ask about our room to be presented our company. The rather busty and plump owner led us into a spacious room then.
"There are a lot of foreign guests, so behave well and entertain them in a manner that they will never forget," Matomi whispered to us before we entered the room.
There were exactly eight people in the room. Four of them were Japanese. One of the Japanese people was a middle-aged man and was talking in English about the new constitution. His name was Kirio Tatsume, Akira onee-san's regular customer. Although I didn't know much about him, he seemed like an aristocratic person and enjoyed Akira onee-san's company simply because she would delight in his claims. On the other hand, the other three were geishas, and each were sitting and pouring sake beside a foreigner.
The party looked up when we walked into the room. Matomi-san introduced us and left when we settled down.
"Akira and Yume, isn't it?" Tatsume-san asked, and we replied a soft, "Yes."
"My four companions here came from different countries and are inclined in machinery industry just like me," Tatsume-san told us as he referred to the men on his side. He began to introduce them one by one.
"This is Paul Stewart from New Zealand," he gestured to a 30-something blonde man on his right who nodded at us.
"Ossian Moloney from Ireland and Emrys Henry from Wales," he referred to two men about the same age as him on his left.
"And Martin Davis from England." He gestured to the man on his farther right. The man named Martin smiled at us gently, and we felt obliged to smile back.
"What about us, Tatsume-san? Have you forgotten about us already?" one of the geishas, who arrived earlier than us, teased.
"Ahh, my bad, my bad." Tatsume-san scratched his head. "My line of sight seems to be catching up with my age, huh?"
We all laughed together. The other geishas looked older and were named Umi, Atsumi, and Kimiko. They were from an okiya not far from where Akira onee-san and I came from. When we were settled together, Tatsume-san rang the bell which indicated that he would order for dinner.
After ordering and while waiting for the food, Tatsume-san hurled the conversation to the changes that the new constitution brought about. He asked us about our opinions about women given the right to vote. To my astonishment, he started asking me because I was the youngest and the only maiko there. I glanced at Akira onee-san awkwardly because I was never questioned and imposed to speak before. She just smiled at me in silent encouragement.
I knew of course, that as an apprentice, that it would be a good experience for me, especially speaking in English. I had done well with my lessons, so I knew I was equipped with the right skills. I watched Tatsume-san and the others quietly. I cleared my throat and spoke slowly and calmly, wishing that my tongue wouldn't twist before me and that my accent would be passable like the young man I'd just met that afternoon, at least.
"I think that as a would-be woman in the society..." They laughed at my lousy joke, and I just beamed warmly. I knew I could do it. "It is a wonderful opportunity for our voices to be heard after a long time of being restrained, due to the fact that our judgment does not count as worthy enough to be heard. I think that it will be a chance for us to be at par with men and obliterate the sexism that had secluded us during the past few years."
I could feel my face heat up a little as they gazed at me. I couldn't help but feel shy under their thoughtful faces. There was a brief, pensive silence, and I couldn't help but bit my lip as I realized how anti-patriarchal I might have sounded...
"That was an enlightening insight to come from such a young lady, indeed," Davis-san remarked and beamed at me. I somehow felt at ease at what he said even though I still felt coy. It was like the sitting ghost that burdened my heart finally went off and sat on someone else's.
I bowed politely. "Thank you."
Tatsume-san agreed too and expressed his happiness to dine with geishas because of our renewed views and discretion. By the time he turned to ask Akira onee-san of her opinion, though, the dinner was served.
It was already a custom that after dinner, we geishas would perform our "art". Since I was still a maiko, I was accustomed to play the shamisen as my onee-sans dance. I could feel the enticement every time Akira onee-san, or any of the geishas that were present, would dance. The art of a geisha was truly captivating. I somehow wondered often if I could dance like my onee-sans.
Mai, do you love to dance?
I perked up a little while playing the shamisen and realized that my memories from long time ago had flitted in my head. I could remember how I usually walked to town with my little brothers and sisters. Out of poverty, I used to dance folk dances I had learnt from my grandmother just to be able to buy sweets for me and my siblings. My shoes were battered, and the pavement in town pierced my feet. But I could forget how hard everything was if I could drink handfuls of water from the town's fountain. It might have been that instance that gave my parents the idea to sell me off. The talent, they had murmured, that may get them out of the pit.
It might sound cruel or rude, but I understood them. I understood them so much that I had no objections. Though, it might seem like I was acting tough as the eldest, but I wanted to at least be strong for them.
Do my letters reach them? I had never forgotten them. Although, I knew that there's a probability it did not reach its destination, or they wouldn't write back to me. I still keep my hopes up.
The dance ended, but the entertainment (mainly jokes and sake-pouring) with the guests went on. When we were finally thanked for the company and told to come again next time, I was completely worn out. Nights had always become like that. It was very ironic how, at day, poor people would wander the streets and work hard while, at night, rich people would spend their money at useless pleasure. It had always been that unfair.
Akira-onee-san went to the reception to inquire about how our payment would be passed to our okiya. Meanwhile, I stood a little sleepily and quietly as I waited for her.
"Excuse me, miss, do you know where tearoom 17 is?" a familiar voice nearby awoke my senses.
I perked up, and that's when I saw him again.
XDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXD~nya~
He wasn't bringing an umbrella, nor was he looking good-natured. He had a change of clothes because the last time I saw him, he was wearing a white shirt. Now, he had on a black one, and he resembled a phantom at night. He seemed to be smiling, but his eyes appeared impatient as he waited for my answer.
"I-I..." I stuttered. What a split personality!
He sighed. "I guess I''ll have to ask the reception instead."
"I-I'll take you there!" I exclaimed involuntarily, and he stared at me in a mixture of astonishment and amusement. He probably doesn't recognize me with the make-up...
When he had recovered, he smiled (still half-heartedly and coldly) and asked me to lead the way.
The room he was asking about was the room Akira-onee-san and I had gone out from a while ago. It wouldn't take long to guide him there.
Honestly, what was I thinking? Answering unconsciously! I should be careful especially when talking to strangers! To think that I've immediately trusted him just this afternoon! What mask he bears!
The tearoom was open, so he went inside smoothly before I could say anything.
"Let's go home, Father," he said to the man, I could recall, was named Martin Davis.
Father! Realization struck me.
The man looked up and grinned at his son. "Did your mother ask you to fetch me?"
Ehh, I thought Davis-san didn't know Japanese!
The young man smirked. "She's angry that you didn't tell her that you would be meeting your friends. You only told Gene too."
"Oh, is that your son, Davis-san?" Tatsume-san asked, quite intoxicated, and ushered to Davis-san's son. "Come, come, join us handsome lad."
The young man ogled at him in silent disapproval. "I don't lush."
"Now, now, Tatsume-san, my son is still underage," Davis-san said.
"Father," the young man called impatiently.
"Alright, alright, I get it." Davis-san stood up. He then noticed me when he went out of the room.
"Oh, it's you a while ago," he spoke to me. "Thank you for that music you played before."
"Much obliged, Davis-san," I replied with a little bow.
"You're still so young," he commented. "Do you go to school?"
"I-I study arts," I responded shyly.
"I see," he nodded and added, "Have you left something?"
"Eh? Ah-no, I was─" I stammered. I was very sleepy, and my head wouldn't function normally.
"She led me here," the young man interrupted, fortunately, and said to me, "Thank you for that."
Not even a slight expression of gratitude! Just like before wherein his eyes don't seem happy at all…
"Y-you're welcome," I said dryly. What made him into such a cold-hearted person?
"My, my, I didn't know you have an interest in geishas, Oliver," Davis-san teased.
Oliver? So that's his name.
"That's enough, Father," Oliver replied and strutted ahead.
Davis-san chuckled and winked at me. "That guy's like that when he's shy, so forgive him for being such an unsocial humbug."
"I-I don't mind." I smiled.
The man blinked, and I blushed. "I-Is there something wrong?"
"No." He shook his head. "It's just that you have a wonderful smile, young lady."
"Father," Oliver called again.
"I'm coming," Davis-san replied and quoth to me, "Nice meeting you, young lady. Hopefully, we'll meet again soon."
And so, they left. I returned to the reception in time and headed home silently with Akira-onee-san. She chatted on about what she would buy tomorrow since she would be shopping, but I just grinned at her enthusiastically. She asked me what I was going to buy, but I told her I didn't need anything somehow.
My thoughts were drifting somewhere, actually.
School, huh? I recalled what Davis-san had asked. It would have been nice if I would be able to go to one where rich girls do. What do they teach there? It's probably not about how to entertain guests and the like, right? They're supposedly taught how to become a decent woman, unlike us geishas who are always labeled as rich men's mistresses.
XDXDXDXDXDXDXDXD~nya~(I'VE STOPPED EDITING HERE;SORRY T_T)
The next day was Sunday, and, usually, tea houses would be closed for the day. It's actually because almost all customers would be at home. On the other hand, geishas would tend to enjoy their free time by roaming around the shopping districts or just spending their whole time in beautifying themselves.
I had planned to write a letter to my family and send it to the post office. I always did it during Sunday. Although, what I scribbled to them was just geisha nonsense. Also, I always slipped in a hefty sum inside. Though my parents gained money from selling me, I knew that it could not possibly be enough. To think that I'd just recently worked as a professional hostess, I doubted if I would be able to support them as much as I could. But, I felt happy that I could give something. More so that there was something that could connect me to them. Though, I knew money was not such a good connection to be made of.
Gladly, the morning wasn't bleak. The sun shone brightly, though the air was indeed damp. I held a bunch of cloth of my kimono as I traversed the wet cobblestones to the post office. The same peddlers and vendors met my sight. After sending my letter, I had decided to gaze at cherry blossoms at Gion; I would do this once in a while.
I crossed the bridge on Shijo street and stopped to stare at the lotuses on the side of the river. It looks so beautiful... I continued staring at it while sliding my left hand on the bridge's railing. I bumped someone in the process.
"Ah, it's you!" a cheery voice addressed me, and I lifted my head in great wonder.
Will he be smiling?
He was, and I could not help thinking that the man I saw yesterday was someone else who just looked like him. Or it could just be that my eyes were playing tricks on me.
"Who-who are you?" I spluttered and bit my lip. It was a careless thing, but I wanted to make sure. Many young men had tried to fool me. This young man might be nothing better than those before him, after all.
He had sensed my unease, so he scratched his head. "Ahh, I must have made you feel awkward, huh? I forgot I haven't given you my name yet. I'm Eugene. May I know what's yours?"
I hesitated, but, then, his smile was sincere and soothing. Perhaps I have just mistaken who I saw yesterday…I was sleepy and my vision can sometimes be blurry or surreal...
"I'm Ma─Y-Yume. Call me Yume." I shifted.
"I see," he beamed. "That's a wonderful name."
"Y-yours too." I nodded, a blush creeping on my cheeks.
"Ah, it's what my foster parents gave me."
"Foster parents?" I queried, bemused.
"Yeah, I'm an orphan," he admitted and added suddenly, "Are you going somewhere?"
"I'm going to look at the cherry blossoms," I replied.
"Would you mind if I join you?" he asked, and I turned erubescent.
How could someone so charming and beautiful be a cold-hearted guy who couldn't smile properly? If that was a mask then why did he look so sincere now? Waahhh…
Reddening incessantly, I involuntarily bobbed my head. We crossed the bridge together wordlessly, peregrinated the pavement lined with sakura trees on one side, and settled on a bench under a sakura tree. Afraid of proximity, I sat inches away from him.
He tilted his head.
"I'm sorry," he said apologetically. "I must have frightened you by being so straightforward like this."
"I-I'm just not used to having someone along to view the cherry blossoms," I answered with a tiny laugh.
"Yeah, I know how it must have been." His eyes lingered faraway. "Working all these years and learning the greedy desires of men whom you serve under, you might have isolated yourself from people every time you're in the outside world. You must have unconsciously shielded yourself and preferred to be alone."
I nictated. Why…does it seem like…why does it feel like…he could understand me? Why do I feel so much relief?
"Yes, you're right..." I agreed, and it was his turn to gaze and blink at me. I chortlled at his expression. Somehow, I feel comfortable…that…I may be able to trust him…after all...
He grinned. "Yume, what would you do if you weren't a geisha?"
His question had put me to a stop, and my heart began beating fast unreasonably. If I weren't a geisha…? Really…I've never thought of any possibility…
I fell silent and placed a hand to my chest. Really, what would I have done if I weren't a geisha? Who would I have become…?
"I…I…school…" I muttered to myself, and I surveyed his bewildered eyes. "Girls at my age would probably be at school. So…I might have been learning with them."
He nodded with a pleasant smile. "Yeah, and you'll probably be one of the good students if you were. You'll be befriending them, talking to them, and giggling with them just like all the girls might have been doing despite circumstances."
"That would feel nice." I closed my eyes and smelled the scent of cherry blossoms wafting in the air.
We ate lunch at a restaurant near the lake at Shijo street. Then, we toured the street shops. He wasn't really that familiar yet of every nook and cranny of the streets in the district, but he surprised me sometimes with his knowledge of short cuts here and there.
I'd never spent my day off with such an amiable person. As time went by, I felt more at ease with him, and, soon, I had been thinking that he could be one of my friends from then on. I just felt so free as if I was not a geisha but an ordinary girl who'd routinely go shopping with her friends at weekends. Somehow, I could not even feel the slightest critical eye other women would have prepared for me if ever I passed by streets. It felt so good that I didn't want it to end.
"Is this how the world should feel…?" I murmured aloud unintentionally.
"What did you say?" Eugene asked, and I flushed crimson. "Ah, sorry. Am I embarrassing you? But, I haven't heard anything so don't you worry."
We were currently inside a shop that sold tea cups. He was busy looking over the designs and contemplating.
"Are you going to buy a set?" I asked, and he nodded.
"Yeah," he answered. "It's for a girl who likes my idiot scientist of a brother."
"Idiot scientist?" Puzzled, I tilted my head to the side.
"Ah, I was blabbering to myself," he lifted a corner of his mouth. "My brother loves to do research and read a lot, so I call him an idiot scientist. There's this girl who really likes him but whom he completely ignores. That girl's birthday is near, so she invited us to her house. The problem is that my brother is quite snobbish. I think that she probably wants to receive even just a present from my brother. You know, one that she would want to cherish."
"But you see, my brother always keeps to himself," he carried on. "He's such a problematic person indeed. That's why, I had volunteered in choosing her a present and planned to have my brother to be the one to give it to her."
"Has he even noticed her feelings?" I inquired, thinking of my siblings back home.
"Well, perhaps he did but just kept quiet about it," he winked at me. "That's probably why my father teases him as a shy boy."
We both snickered.
"Ah, I know," he gazed at me. "Why don't you choose the design for me? Since you're a geisha, you'll probably know what designs other girls would like in their tea cups."
"I-I'll try," I said reluctantly.
It took me a while to choose. There were a lot of beautiful tea cups in the shop. But in the end, I chose yellow-colored tea cups with small blue hydrangeas painted on them. Eugene took the set and asked the shop boy to wrap it with decorated paper. I told Okaa-san before leaving that I would be going home early. So, I told him that I should go home after the next stop.
"Hmm, I'll buy you something as gratitude for picking up the tea cups for me," he suggested, and I shook my head.
"You saved me yesterday, so I guess we're just even," I reminded him.
He made a face like a pouting child. "That was different, though."
"I should be thanking you, instead," I said to him wholeheartedly. "I enjoyed my day off because of your company."
"That's really great to hear, then."
He brought me home just like yesterday, and he conversed about England and various experiences with his brother.
They're really close, huh? Though…by the looks of it, he keeps on teasing him. I wonder how he looks like…
"Perhaps, I should go with my father when he goes to a tea house here," he told me. "And I'll tell him to call for you."
I blushed. "You don't have to do that."
He laughed. "You're so red and so cute, Yume."
I blushed further. "And you don't even get embarrassed at all."
He simpered. "You finally feel relaxed."
I nictitated.
We arrived at the gate of the okiya and bid each other goodbye. He waved at me, and I waved back before entering the gate. Then, I was blushing furiously when I observed that he was still ogling at me even though I turned my back.
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Eugene halted waving and faced the light post near him.
"How long have you been following us, idiot scientist?" he said to the person hiding in the light post's shadow.
"Ever since I spotted you somewhere in a tea shop, lady killer," the person replied, and when he came to view, he actually bore the same face as the one facing him. However, unlike Eugene, he was smirking.
"Ahh, I would have chosen to hear you call me 'aniki', Noll," Eugene chided.
"Don't mess with me, Gene," Noll warned. "I was just asked by mother to come here and get you. She says we are needed to prepare for a new person at home."
"New person?" Gene looked interested. "Did she reveal who it is?"
"She didn't say anything, but she looks so happy." Noll sighed. "Yesterday, it was father, and now I'm fetching you. Honestly, you two should stop moving away from the house for once."
"Ahh, you sound like you are my older brother." Gene chuckled, and Noll just loured at him.
"Whatever," Noll said under his breath. "If you're going to continue roaming around then, fine with me. But, I won't come and fetch you next time."
"Ahh, don't be like that, Noll-chan."
Noll glared, and Gene raised his hands high in level with his head as if in surrender.
He's really fun to tease, Eugene thought playfully.
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"I'm…sold?" I gaped at Okaa-san as she smoked her pipe.
"Yes, you're sold." Okaa-san nodded and waved her pipe at me. "You should be happy. A foreigner bought you a while ago. He paid a very high price, so I cannot object. Though you've been earning well, you were just starting out, so your pay from the appointments weren't enough yet to cover your art studies and other fees. I don't know why he bought you or how he knew you, but I could say you're lucky."
Lucky? A foreigner bought me? Horror struck me. What if he's an old man, and he wants me to marry him? No way! I cannot agree with that! O-or what if he's going to turn me into a slave or something like that? What should I do? Should I run away?
"Don't worry," Okaa-san assured, flicking her pipe at me. "He seems decent, so you wouldn't have to work anymore."
That's not very assuring!
"He will come back tomorrow morning to take you to his house," Okaa-san informed. "Be nice to him, and show him your deepest gratitude for his patronage. You do, after all, now owe him your life."
The shoji door slid open, and Akira onee-san peeked in. "Okaa-san, you called for me?"
"Yes." Okaa-san formed a ring of smoke with her pipe. "Help Yume pack up her things."
"Yes, Okaa-san," Akira onee-san responded and took my hand. I was led out of the room, and when we were inside my room, she hugged me.
"Honestly, I was worried about you, you know!" she gushed. "And then I just heard from our sisters that you were sold! How do you feel after hearing from Okaa-san?"
"I-I don't know what to do…" I muttered in shock. "Onee-san, what if the man who bought me is cruel or something? Should I run away before anything happens?"
"Keep a hold of yourself, Yume," onee-san told me, and I nodded obediently. "If you run away then, you're just staking your life. Don't be a coward and face that man, whoever he is! Alright, I'll teach you some techniques if ever he does something you don't like. In that way, you'll know what to do."
I jounced my head as she dictated to me her 'so-called techniques.' I couldn't help but feel desperate.
After about an hour or so of listening and bobbing heads...
"Got it all? Alright, you're set! Now, we should start packing your things or else Okaa-san will scold us both! Especially when your escort has arrived, and you still haven't prepared..." she frowned, and I followed her.
I could not help crying while I packed my rather few possessions. Most were gifts from people who appointed me before. I'd never used them, but they were the first gifts I'd ever received; so, I held them dearly. Akira onee-san soon could not contain it too, so she was also moved to tears. I'd told her to sleep in my room that night, and she obliged. We spoke of endless stories to one another, laughed, cried, and laughed again.
"Akira onee-san…" I called out.
"Hmm?" She raised her eyebrow.
"Will everything be really alright tomorrow?" I queried.
She messed my hair up, and I yelped.
"Of course everything will be alright." She smiled. "If it's you, Kami-sama will definitely be at your side always."
"I guess…you're right…" I yawned, and she teased me for having a wide mouth while yawning. We sniggered for the last time, and soon enough, the day weighed me down and drifted me off to sleep.
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Akira onee-san's voice woke me up. The sun had not risen yet when I had set my eyes on the sky. I had forgotten for a few seconds that it would be my last day staying in the okiya. It excited me and, at the same time, scared me. I could not imagine how I would live not as a geisha. I was trained, ever since childhood, the ways of a professional hostess. I didn't know what I would become besides a geisha right then. I hadn't realized until then that the arts of a geisha had already been deeply ingrained in my state of mind.
I dressed up into a humble kimono, wore my hair down, and ate breakfast with Akira onee-san for the last time. My geisha sisters kissed my cheeks with whispers of soft farewells. I thanked them all for their greetings. Then, Okaa-san called me into her room and gave me her blessing.
"Have you finished packing your things?" she asked.
"Yes, okaa-san."
"You might be wondering why I called you here," she started. "Now, every geisha who steps out of this okiya and faces their new life is always given something as a token of their service to the okiya."
I jounced my head in silence.
"You've done well up to now," Okaa-san commented. "Though, it's a pity that you have not become a full-fledged geisha yet. It's really very surprising for a maiko to be sold immediately."
She scrutinized me, and I shifted in my seat a little.
"Do not forget what you have learned from this okiya no matter how meager they are," Okaa-san reminded. "They might be the only knowledge that could support you in your new life. Also, do not be ashamed of telling people that you were a geisha. Do you understand?"
I nodded.
"You should not forget that a geisha who denies her profession as a geisha─?" Okaa-san raised her eyebrow at me so I would continue for her.
"Is lower than a prostitute who claims herself as a geisha," I recited, and Okaa-san beamed.
She clapped her hands. "That's my girl. That's what a geisha is raised from this okiya. Now, I'll give you your farewell gift."
She handed me a golden-colored box and ushered me to open it. It was a blue and yellow susohiki. I gawked at it unbelievably. Okaa-san nodded at me approvingly.
"Your mother told me that you have very good dancing skills, so I thought of handing you a garment that would label you as one."
I began to be emotional, but Okaa-san shoved me off.
"Don't go crying to me with such superficial things," she groaned, and I smiled sheepishly instead. "Now, off you go. Your ride will be coming soon."
"Yes, okaa-san," I answered and bowed in dogeza. "Thank you for taking care of me and goodbye."
"You're welcome," she inclined her head. "And goodbye."
I straightened and slid the shoji door open, but Okaa-san called to me once more. I turned curiously.
"Don't forget to write to us whatever happens," she stated. "At least give this old woman (me) some joy for bringing you up."
"I will, okaa-san."
I then strode off.
Like my parents, I wanted to trust her too. I wanted to trust her that she wouldn't sell me to perilous hands.
"Your ride has come, and I've never seen anything like it!" Akira onee-san, who had joined me when I got out of okaa-san's room, whispered to me in awe, "The foreigner who bought you is waiting at the sitting room. It looks like okaa-san told him to wait there."
It was strange to be treated like an item that's sold off. But, it wasn't something new.
"How old is he?" I asked, sweat-dropping.
"Very old," she told me sincerely, and I gulped. What should I do?
I got my things and wobbly proceeded to the sitting room.
My jaw dropped.
Almost.
He stood up at the sight of me, and, still speechless, I closed my mouth immediately.
Why Mr. Martin Davis?
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The first movement I made after the shock was swishing my head around in case the expressionless Eugene-look-a-like was hiding somewhere and might just pounce on me with his cold eyes. Davis-san seemed to have guessed what I was doing, and he said exactly what I was most afraid of thereafter.
"Ahh, I didn't bring Oliver with me," he informed, and I blushed in embarrassment.
"Oliver?" Akira onee-san echoed and turned to me. "Who's Oliver?"
"He's─"
"He's my son," Davis-san answered for me. "The young lady had met him just yesterday."
Akira onee-san's eyes shone as it dawned upon her. They twinkled like diamonds, and I could almost tell the inner laughing and teasing she was making inside her mind.
A man in a weird black suit entered the sitting room. He had brown eyes and slightly long light brown hair, which was tied in a loose ponytail. He's probably in his 20s by the looks of it. Akira onee-san, to my terror, almost swooned at the sight of him. Honestly…
"Sir, it's already time," the man said to Davis-san, and the latter nodded.
Davis-san gazed at me, and I fidgeted a little. "Young lady, it is time to go. Takigawa will take your baggage."
I nodded shyly and handed it to the man named Takigawa. I motioned to follow when onee-san halted me.
"Listen, Yume─no─Mai," she corrected herself, and I felt happy to be called again by my real name. "Write to me too, okay? Eat well there , and take care of yourself. That man seems safe, and from what I have heard of this son of his called Oliver─"
"Onee-san." I rolled my eyes.
"No, seriously Mai," she ranted. "I think that you're safe with him since if he already has a son, he probably might still have a wife! So, you won't be any man's mistress or anything. Now, you don't have anything to worry about anymore, okay?"
I nodded (I sort of gotten dizzy a little from all the nodding) and beamed. "I will, and I have to say that you sound like a doting mother with your first two sentences."
"Thanks for your wonderful and last compliment," she said wryly, and I boffed. We hugged for the last time and said our lengthy goodbyes.
I went outside and realized that my ride was indeed something I had never seen before. Unlike the jinrikisha wherein a human would pull the cart, my ride had four horses and four wheels. The thing to be pulled also, unlike the jinrikisha, had a seat in front where Takigawa-san currently sat. It was like a closed chamber and much bigger than the cart of jinrikisha. Also, it's much more spacious since about six people could fit into it.
Takigawa-san went down from his seat to assist me. Agog, I took his offered hand, leaned on it as I climbed up, and sat down on a lush material inside. Takigawa-san closed the chamber, and I saw him scuttle to the front through a glass window on the door. Before long, I felt the chamber move, and I gripped my kimono to calm myself. Davis-san, who sat opposite me, smiled warmly.
"Have you not ridden a coach before, young lady?" he queried affably.
"This is my first time seeing one and sitting inside one," I admitted coyly.
"It would be a good new experience then," he said to me, and I conceded wordlessly.
We were quiet for a few seconds.
Then...
"Young lady, what is your real name?" Davis-san inquired. "I think it'll be rude if I just call you young lady."
I hesitated but pondered briskly. I would be living with him now...
"I'm Y─Mai, Mai Taniyama," I disclosed. After all, I did owe him my life right now.
"It's very nice to meet you then, Mai," Davis-san quoth. "From now on, I'll be your foster father."
My jaw had never dropped open as wide as that particular instance.
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My jaw continued to stretch as I went down the coach. The ride wasn't really long, but it was enough for me to want to come down to fresh ground. The house was actually quite isolated from the others.
And the house was not just a house at all.
It's a Japanese castle!
I was so awestruck. The walls were painted white, and the tiled roofs were spread beautifully in curve-ended, base-opened triangles. Davis-san told me that it's just 3-story high, but to my vision, it's so broad. He also told me about the moat at the back of the castle, the vast garden, and many more wonders about the place.
How did he buy this castle? And for only three people?
Well, it was silly of me to question his fortune—more so the number of people there. There were servants all over the place. The first time I entered the castle, there were people greeting both of us and asking for our luggage (well, just mine actually), and there were others who were walking here and there in mindful haste.
I was guided into an elegant dining room. Somehow, though the castle appeared Japanese outside, the inside furniture and interior design were mostly European and alien to me. There were timbers on the ceiling and a 'chandelier' high up. In the middle of the dining room was a round table laden with food.
I had counted five chairs. Who's the fifth?
"Mai," Davis-san ushered me, and I came in contact with stunning emerald eyes; I blinked momentarily. "This is my wife, Luella. She will be your new mother."
The woman before me had a copper brown hair that showed small streaks of white. Her hair was shoulder-length, and it curled in the ends, framing her heart-shaped face. She beamed at me, and I returned her smile. Subsequently, I bowed to her.
"I'm Mai Taniyama, and I'm very grateful to be under your care from now on," I greeted.
"My, Martin, she's a very lovely and respectful girl," Luella uttered, and I felt glad. "Dear, can you come over here?"
I approached her, and she held my hands.
"I've always been longing for a daughter, and I'm so happy Martin came across you, dear," she told me delightedly while caressing my cheeks.
Unable to think of a suitable expression to show them my glee, I smiled sheepishly.
Nodding approvingly, Davis-san ordered to another woman behind him, "Priscilla, call the young masters─"
"We're here, father," an all-too familiar cheerful voice reached my ears, and I whipped around without thought.
He caught my eye, and he stopped, astounded. "Yume?"
"Eu─"
Just then, another person strode into the dining room, and I let out a gasp. My hand flew to my mouth swiftly, and I turned from one Eugene to another. Or rather, now to my stupid late realization: I turned from Eugene to Oliver.
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"Ehh, so you three knew each other?" Luella-san was amazed. "From what I heard from Martin, Noll, you met her at the tea house."
"Yes," Oliver answered, looking quite annoyed and disinterested at the same time as he ate his 'brunch' (as they called it).
"And from what I heard from Gene, he met her while he was walking around," she went on. "Hmmm, it's really impressive how coincidence works."
Ehh, so their nicknames are Gene and Noll. I stared at the plate before me and bit my lip. It's not that I didn't want to eat. It's just that I didn't know what to use from those silver things lined up beside my plate.
"Don't you just smell some competition, Martin dear?" Luella asked her husband.
"It really does," Martin agreed and noticed me, unfortunately, staring at my plate. "Is there something wrong, Mai?"
The sound of scraping plate stopped, and my breath was held in their curious faces. I felt so giddy all of a sudden.
"What is it, dear?" Luella inquired soothingly, and I somehow broke off from my faint dizziness and turned on a very sheepish mode.
"Err…may I use chopsticks?" I asked impulsively and soon regretted it.
All heads turned. Even the servants whirled my way as if I was nuts. My face, I think, did not become sinopia thankfully. Instead, I began sweating profusely and, quite contrary, became pale, which was, I must say, worse than ever.
Oh please, spare me from this torture, you Westernized people…
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A/N: How was that? How was that?
P.S. nth edition...^^