Sorry for the delay...real life decided to interfere with my twice a week chapters. So, a bit late, on to Chapter Six. For those who may be just joining us, you can start with Chapter One
Dai Sho Shou
Even the most skilled
application of cosmetics left Jun shaking his head in disgust. His
wounds had healed, but one side of his face still drooped like melted
wax. There was no way he could go on stage looking like this. He'd
end up cast as a crone or a demon. His hand shook with repressed rage
as he penned a note to the theater explaining his extended absence.
Even more disturbing, there had been no word from Hiroshi. His lover
had abandoned him to his fate.
Jun knelt before his
small shrine, clapped his hands three times, then bowed his head in
heartfelt prayer. “Amaterasu, most beautiful of goddesses, you have
abandoned me to a life of rejection and ugliness. Tsukiyomi you have
turned your back on me, separating me from my beloved. Susanoo, I
pray you heed my request. Give me revenge on those who have hurt and
abandoned me. Where once I wielded beauty, now let me summon your
powers of chaos and destruction.” He lit a single stick of incense
as an offering, then turned away to plot the downfall of the house of
Murakami.
* * *
Tomorrow stretched into a
week, then into two, and Kenshin still found reasons to delay his
trip to the pleasure district. His training with Hiroshi had settled
into a comfortable pattern. Evenings in his formerly staid household
now echoed with laughter, and early morning training now commenced
well after sunrise. The nights, however, were no less torturous. His
apprentice was a young man, with a young man's desires. Night after
night he resolved to find himself a mistress before he snapped and
spoiled the budding friendship he had grown to cherish. But each dawn
he found an excuse not to visit the teahouses.
During his morning
meditation Kenshin pondered the reasons for his hesitation. In part,
it was fear he would be unable to perform with a woman. He had never
felt the attraction to the opposite sex other men did. Even his
master, who had so loving introduced him to the world of sexual
pleasure, had a wife and a concubine as well. But the intricacies of
the female mind were a puzzle he couldn't decode. If he were honest
with himself, he also feared he would enjoy it. Far too many warriors
squandered their time and money with the ladies of the willow world.
And then there was Hiroshi. It was becoming more and more difficult
for Kenshin to hide his attraction to the younger man. The last thing
he wanted was to shortcut any chance of a relationship because he was
too impatient to wait until his feelings were returned.
* * *
The folded envelope
seemed innocuous. The seal of the royal family, much less so. Kenshin
turned it over and over, trying to weigh the consequences opening it
would surely entail. Finally he broke the seal and unfolded the
delicate paper, pausing to appreciate the intricate calligraphy before
concentrating on the message itself.
Hiroshi found him staring
off into space, a sheet of paper clenched in his fist. “Yakushi-san,
are you alright?”
Blank eyes turned in his
direction, and his master managed a single strangled word. “Omai.”
"I refuse. My father
might have been able to force me to come here, but he cannot force me
into a marriage.”
"Not you, me.” It was
clear the very thought horrified the samurai. “I knew this would
lead to ruin.”
In all honesty it didn't
seem like such a tragedy to the youth. After all, his master was a
grown man with no family to push him into an alliance. He was free to
decline in a way Hiroshi was not. “So say no, if it bothers you so
much. I am sure she doesn't want to marry you either.” He pried the
letter out of tense fingers, smoothing the page before scanning its
contents.
"See? It is the
emperor's sister. I cannot refuse.” Kenshin's whole body drooped.
“I have to at least meet with her, and I don't know if I will be
able to refuse after that. This is all your father's fault.”
"Most everything awful
is,” Hiroshi agreed.
"Glad to know you hate
me so much.”
"I didn't mean it that
way.”
"You made it clear from
the moment you arrived you wanted nothing to do with me. Your
father's plan to pair us up was a mistake. I wish I had never agreed,
then I would still be content being alone. Now I long for things I
cannot have, and need to consider a match I never wanted.”
"You long for me?”
The whispered query forced Kenshin to turn and face his student. The
surprise on his face lit something deep in his soul, a feeling he
fought to suppress before it undid him completely.
"How could I not?”
Hiroshi struggled to
respond, but the words caught in his throat. And then the moment had
passed and Kenshin was gone. Leaving him with nothing but the
ill-fated missive as proof the encounter ever happened.
* * *
Jun pushed aside the mass
of shredded garments until he uncovered his stored kimono, carefully
wrapped in soft silk and nestled in cedarwood boxes. He sent up a
small prayer of thanks, losing them would have been a blow he
couldn't recover from. After much contemplation, he decided on his
third best kimono, sorting through obi until he found a pairing
appropriate for the season. Even in this, precision was key.
Having
avoided it for as long as possible, he began to pick through the rest
of the broken and scattered treasures, carefully packing up a few
ornaments and a surprisingly intact box of face powder. Everything
else would remain here, in this place of broken dreams. Once he left,
he would not be returning.
The boxes and bags were
transferred to a waiting cart, a veil carefully positioned to hide
the mark of his failure, and Jun shut the door on his past.
Afternoons in the
pleasure district are lazy, leisurely affairs. In this closed world
of women the highlight of the day is gossiping the long hours away in
the baths. From the outside the willow world appears to slumber
behind its walls, recovering from the revelries of the night before.
In reality, this is the most cherished part of the day, when hopes
and dreams are laid bare and all eventualities are possible. The
arrival of a curtained palanquin during these hours was unexpected
enough to set all tongues wagging. When that palanquin stopped
outside a teahouse known for unconventional sexual practices,
curiosity overcame all rivalries. Women who normally passed without
so much as a nod of acknowledgment put their heads together and
whispered ever more outlandish theories. The only thing the pillow
girls could agree on was no one recognized the heavily veiled woman
who slipped from its curtained privacy into the teahouse. Her wealth
was obvious, hair impeccably coifed and clad in a kimono worth more
than all of them combined. Why such a person would visit that
particular house was debated in ever rising voices. The most obvious
answer, a husband with habits no decent woman could stomach, was
almost immediately discarded. Such a refined creature would no more
discuss such things than she would run naked through the streets.
Most wives negotiated their husband's liasons through scrolls and
servants, even the most mundane. The lack of subterfuge had all the
women on edge. Something darker was obviously at work.
Inside the shadowed
confines of the teahouse Jun proceeded to plead his case. Using all
the skill he had acquired in his time onstage, he struck just the
right balance between misery and vengeance, hoping to sway the
proprietor to his side.
"He swore we were
eternal lovers. And then he abandoned me.” A delicate handkerchief
disappeared behind the veils to dab at watery eyes. “Now I am
spoiled for any other.”
"Why come to me? There
are many houses that would love to have a lady of your refinement. My
customers have base appetites. Your delicate sensibilities will
enflame them to greater outrages just to see your reaction.”
"I have no choice,”
Jun's voice dropped to a breathy whisper. “I cannot allow another
to penetrate my jade gate, and I have no wish to risk becoming
enamored of any man. But, I am now without resources, and that means
I must compromise. I will accept being used in the way men pleasure
each other. Would you have customers interested in such things?”
"I have customers
interested in all manner of perversion. I am sure I can keep you busy
enough to forget your heartbreak. I assume you would prefer separate
quarters?”
"It would be more
comfortable for all of us, I'm sure. Still, beggars can't be
choosers. I will take whatever you are willing to give me.”
The proprietress
carefully packed a long iron pipe with tobacco, applying a coal to
the bowl and puffing out clouds of sour smoke. “One of my girls
recently left us to marry. Her lover kept her in luxury during her
time here. Her house is empty now, I'll have the servants clean it in
preparation for your arrival.”
