Of Dancers and Dragons

Welcome to a world of acupuncture, geisha, and kabuki, where tradition is being challenged by immorality. A young doctor is soon to learn there are darker things that creep through the night than broken hearts and horror stories. Immortal Ryu Keiji takes a look back on his life during the Edo period, in hopes of recollecting himself, scattered through these ages.

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Libran's Legacy:
Of Dancers and Dragons

Chapter I



Every day is started with a ritual. You wake up in bed, look at the time and contemplate staying there, though you know you should not. When you do decide to join the living, you brush your hair, you brush your teeth, and then change clothes, because you decided to skip the shower.

I am no different. Everyday I leave my small apartment and make my way to the busy atmosphere of the Makoto tea house. The same geisha Yori has been serving me white jasmine tea for over thirty years. Today as I looked into her aging brown eyes I wondered, where did this ritual come from?

Quiet I sit by myself, listening in on the conversation of others, making comments to myself as if I was a part of their group. It could be a sign I have grown lonely. Yori should never let me sit alone for long. The task of a geisha is to keep you entertained. If she does not sit and make conversation with me, then she is not doing her job.

Welcome to my world and allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ryu Keiji, although I look to be a man in his forties, I am four hundred and forty six years old. My skin is a tight soft honey with lines around my black eyes, showing my maturity. My hair is also black, long and straight past my shoulders. In the right light it reflects a natural tint of blue. The frame I carry is lithe, with long thin muscles, and in my opinion rather attractive.

I have lived so long that I forget if I was born. Have you ever thought you should be dead when you are still alive? If not, I do not think I can explain that feeling to you. I am forgetting so much about myself, that I wonder if I still have my soul.

Yori has poured my tea but she has other tables to attend to. Like so much in life, the path of a geisha has changed.


Chapter II


I was born during the Edo period of Japan, in a small village within the mountains of Hakone. It was the kind of place you could lose yourself in the blooming cherry trees, on an enticing spring day.
If your feet and hands wished it, they would lead you climbing to the most solitary peeks they could find. Knowing where to go, you might uncover the secret of a hot spring, hiding within the mountain rocks where you could bathe or swim. (A favorite past time of mine during autumn)
Throughout my life I spent many of my hours wandering these scenic paths.

My mother died during childbirth, so I don’t have any stories or descriptions of her face. This was not a sad thing, as the gentle land became my mother. Whenever I needed it, I knew I always had a place to turn to. I may have born under a sign for earth, but my personality dictated that I was equal parts air and fire. When I cried, the wind dried my sticky tears. Fire took care of my anger but it would be years before I knew this.

In my childhood I often retreated to the safety of nature's nest. My father was the kind of man who taught me how to swim at six by throwing me into a lake. My arms and feet sliced through the water in a wild manner, waves cutting into my throat, choking me. The wetness stung my eyes, I could not see. If I survived I learned. I learn quick.

Like many children taught in this fashion I had a fear of the water until thirteen. I do not remember how or exactly why, I just remember the moment I grew out of it. I swam from one end of a hot spring to the other, while children my age called to me.

Every day my father thanked the family gods his only child was a boy. I looked so much like him that receiving his name should have suited me. Our hair was the same, our eyes identical, our lips just as full, but our personalities could not have been more different. To this day he is the reason I refuse to grow a beard.

Though my father was a kimono maker, I followed in the footsteps of the doctor who tended to my mother in labor. A Chinese man named Syaoran. Being that she was the only patient who died under his care, he felt obligated to live with my father and help raise me.

I grew up as his apprentice. He taught me about herbal medicine, Chinese acupuncture, hot stone massage, and natural poison. It may surprise you to learn that while acupuncture would become my specialty, my biggest interest was poison. I loved finding out what would happen if you mixed certain ones together. A paralyses with a fever inducing poison. It is a shame a mouse can not tell you if it is hallucinating.

Putting that aside, I tried tailoring but could never get the knack of it. I’d become so frustrated I would storm out every time I tried to help my father. When he realized yelling and hitting me was not working, he moved me to store keeper. I was never allowed to wear the fine kimonos before, always the plain ones. Now I had to model the full extent of my father’s talent. He made an exquisite red silk kimono, even the obi was red. On the back centered between my shoulders was a gold dragon with three talons. The image stood for my name. Besides, dragons are always popular with the customers. That proved to be true in more ways than one, every one always liked me. I had an excellent standing with the samurai. We would make trades for more than just cloth and coin. My best trade was contact poison for a sword. No it was not a sword that belonged to him, that would be too valuable for him to give up. He asked a sword maker to forge me one and brought it to me. I still remember the first time I held the hilt in my hand, and my eyes absorbed the blue of the steel. I could tell the weight was designed with me in mind. I learned how to use it not with the sword but with a stick, from the same gentlemen that sold it to me.

That was another trade.

When my apprenticeship was made official at twenty, I became a practicing accupunctirist underneath my mentor. My father hired another boy ten years younger to work the store. I now worked with Syaoran out of our home. Our house was small and what was known as a gasho-zukuri. A thatched gable roof house, with one room to live in. There was one hearth in the center of the room for cooking and warmth. It was comfortable with just us, as my father often slept at the store. It was my home and I liked it.


Chapter III

I stood over the lake applying kohl to the outlines of my eyes, as many young aristocratic men did at the time, when another much more beautiful reflection appeared over my shoulder.

“Are you a kabuki actor? You look like one”

I turned to face her and swallowed. I did not even know what kabuki was, but wishing I could tell her everything about it just to impress her. Instead, I shook my head, very shy.

Her cloud white face was streaked with sky blue and cherry pink, her lips were curved in a seductive way proving that the gods created her for kissing. Even today I think of her beauty and am moved. The kimono she wore was grey with black flowers, hugging her form in a fashion that flattened her hips. The loose sleeves exposed the skin in her arms, very erotic. What interested me the most was the way in which her black hair was tied, exposing the elegant traces of her neck. I love a woman’s neck the way many western men love a woman’s breast.
“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”
I bowed. “Forgive me for staring, I have never seen a woman dressed like you before”
“That is because I am not like any other woman you have ever met. I suppose you have never seen a performance by a geisha?”
“No. I’ve heard about them from the samurai”
“What have you heard?”
“Only that they are the most beautiful women a man will ever see, and they have a talent for making you feel to be the most important man in the world, but I don’t believe them”
“Oh? Why is that?”
“Because I’ve seen you”

Her smile was gentle and she seemed to be enjoying our conversation. I must have said something right.
“You should come by the Matsuno tea house, tell them your making a delivery for Kohana. Don’t wear any makeup, dress in your plainest robes, then I’ll show you all about Kabuki” She lifted her parasol and with a wave strolled off in the opposite direction.


Chapter IV

I later learned the place where a geisha grows up, trains, and performs, is called an okiya. I walked an entire day out of my familiar district to find Kohana’s.
Carrying a silver box, looking more like a peasant than an errand boy, I knocked on the back door of the okiya. I was greeted by Kohana herself. Her soft young hands grabbed me by the wrists and pulled me inside. She checked to see if anyone was coming or had seen me, three times before she spoke to me.
“You’ve done well. What did you say your name was?”

Disappointed I mumbled.

“Keiji San, right. I’m sorry this has been a strenuous day for me, already I’ve gone to four separate parties.”
“That sounds exciting. I never go to parties”
A wire thin smile stretched across her face as she pulled out a long brown box from her closet. Seeing her so disconnected I became anxious, “Don’t you want to have a look at your delivery?”
Her eyes went snake narrow while half circle lines were created around her mouth. “You brought something for me?”

Putting aside the fact she looked beautiful yet evil, I replied to her question.

“Of course”

Abandoning the brown box she took my silver one and sat it in her childlike lap. I rubbed the side of my neck with my left palm, as I watched the tiniest aspects of her hands discovering her gift.

“Pastries! How nice”

Although I may have expected a bigger reaction, I was relieved she liked them. Standing with a goddess grace she picked up the brown box and pushed it into my chest. “This is for you. I am sorry it is not a gift you can keep, but something I borrowed from a friend of mine”

We bowed to each other, showing there were no hard feelings. I opened it up to find a yellow kimono with orange leaves and a matching orange obi.
“If you are going to escort a woman dressed as fine myself you must always outshine her, so people will look at you and think ah there’s a man to be respected”

Her words spoken as hot air rising from a tea kettle, made me blush. “Thank you” I bowed again. “But I don’t believe you, no one could ever outshine you”

Kohana wore her pretty face like a mask. I looked into her eyes and had trouble finding the slightest hint of what she thought. As often as you might gaze at a beautiful person, you don’t always see them. I had been so blinded by her beauty, that until I searched for her soul, I never noticed her eyes were a muddy green.

I dressed in the attire she picked out for me as she hid her face in her tiny hands. Deep inside myself I wished she would sneak a peek and tell me what she thought.
Her arm linked into mine as she led me into the okiya’s entertainment room.

It was a very seductive and golden place. Decorated in lavish warm colors and glowing gold lanterns. Frames of gold metal birds hung upon the walls, koto strings played golden notes as the wealthy crowd talked and laughed.

As we walked around the room, she leaned her head in closer and spoke low. “The kabuki show will be starting in an hour from now so please allow me to use the time to bid everyone goodnight. It’s in very poor taste to walk out on a party of people I was entertaining”

I nodded to her. “Of course” As far as I was concerned Kohana was orchestrating the entire thing, and she was. Yet she had this talent for making you feel you were, and all her good ideas were your ideas. Like wise your lousy suggestions were hers. In Kohana’s presence you were never an underrated idiot, you were elevated to a status beyond your own.
“Tetsu San, I’m afraid I should be saying goodnight”
I could not help but notice her voice turned breathier as she spoke. We were approaching now a middle aged man with little hair and a marshmallow belly. His kimono was blue with a pattern of gold stars and a white obi, accented by a black open robe over top.
“No. Why must you always leave me Kohana? You know these other girls aren’t close to being as clever as you are”
“Kasumi is still available, I am certain she would be happy to keep you company”
“Kasumi huh? Hmm she’s still just a miako but I heard she was smart”
“She is very smart. Just the other day she told me how she’d like to meet you and I said to her why Kasumi, that is such a smart idea. Tetsu San is one of the nicest and wealthiest men I know”
Tetsu giggled and blushed, shaking feet that seemed too small for him. “Smart girl! Smart girl! Yes I would love to meet her I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before”

I don’t know how he thought it was his idea, but he did. Putting aside my personal dislike of him I smiled and bowed when Kohana introduced me.
“This is Ryu Keiji, he requested a week ago that I escort him to the kabuki show at the Kawazu house tonight”

Tetsu’s glee almost seemed to vanish replaced with an odd mixture of curiosity and respect.
“Lucky for you Kohana, I know how you adore the theatre. I can’t stand it. So what may I ask draws a gentlemen such as yourself to a woman’s entertainment?”

Put on the spot I drew my answer from my rear as he seemed to be the type who would be ignorant of anything outside his own world of pleasure.
“Well Kabuki is not so much a woman’s past time as you might think. Many young men enjoy the - choreography as well. Actually I would go so far as to say that the audience is mostly male”
“Oh really? Hmm. I only know women who go to them, then again, I never talk about Kabuki if I don’t have to. Can’t stand it. It’s too well you know”

No idea what I was supposed to know, I raised my brows and acted as if I adored this enigma.

Kohana said goodnight to her mother, an older lady still standing proud and tall, who was not actually her mother, but the owner of the Matsuno okiya. She introduced us and we had a more pleasant talk than with Tetsu. I bowed to and greeted many more people than is worth recounting.

The last girl we talked with was seated at a table by her self with her neck craned as far back as it could go, in an effort to swallow water. "Kasumi" Kohana's stern voice seemed to catch her by surprise, as her pale face looked at us in shock. With a thick white cloth she blotted instead of wiping the excess liquid from her mouth. "I told Tetsu that you would keep him company tonight. It will be a good entertainment lesson for you. All you have to worry about is the amount of sake he drinks"

Kasumi's young head nodded. She wore the same kind of makeup as Kohana but her kimono was a more virginal kind that threatened to swallow up her young body. She could not have been more than fifteen. Her wide kitten eyes looked over at me and she bowed so low I thought the earth would swallow her.
"This is Ryu Keiji, he requested my presence a week ago at the kabuki show in the Kawazu tonight, which is why I have to be leaving early"

Kasumi nodded once more and bowed. I suppose she must have been excused in a silent understanding because she left.
"Charming girl. I like it she doesn't say much"
"Many men do. That's because she's a mute. She makes up in dancing for what she can't say. I believe she's an even better dancer than I am. She will be very popular when she's older. That's why she's my apprentice. I can spot and nurture talent better than mother"
"I'm sure you can, but I think you're being too modest again"
She looked away from Kasumi's thin frame now offsetting the big bubble that was Tetsu. Her smile was a mere introduction to her speech. "We better get going before we're late. You know Ryu chan, I think you'll be very well liked around here"

Her arm wrapped into mine, holding on to my bicep. The spring air was warm that night. The road from the Matsuno teahouse to the Kawazu theatre was not very far, but the walk was long enough to savor every moment. Our feet were lit by the soft glow of lanterns hanging over head. This was a change in itself for me. Living away from the district I was accustomed to treading darker paths. Kohana kept her head down and I knew she would not speak until I spoke first. Unsure of what to say but relieved I had this moment alone with her I smiled the uncertain smile of youth, as I exhaled in nervousness.
“What do we do once we get there?”

Looking up she smiled at me in a reassuring way.
“Don’t worry about it, just do what I do and you’ll be fine”

At the Kawazu gates we went straight to the stage outside and took our places among the colorful crowd. This crowd like the Matsuno, was a wealthy one. No one wore plain kimono, just the finest.

When Kohana sat down, I sat next to her.

Learning what Kabuki was I never noticed if the audience was more men than women or more women than men. My attention was focused on the dancers wearing elaborate masks portraying elemental deities or demons. Their tongues hanging out ready to taste the nearest flesh. The performance told stories of murder, rape, supernatural terror, the most horrible things man is capable of imagining. My personal favorite, was the one about a man who murdered his wife and condemned his soul to an eternal hunger for feces. This was Japan’s original outlet for horror. Long before films about Godzilla and psychotic young women perverting the use of acupuncture into pain.

The stage was lit by candlelight placed in strategic areas. I remember now the way my heart raced as the deep sound of the drum signified it’s start. My entire mind entranced, I even forgot Kohana was at my side. What did seem peculiar was that the cast was made entirely of men. Even when a role called for a female it was always played by a man. Some of which were very convincing, but as someone who has been eyeing pretty girls since he can remember, I know a man when I see a man, and I know a woman when I see a woman.

When the show ended, and we all stood up to clap, I leaned in to Kohana. “Why don’t women participate in kabuki? It seems as though it would be very complementary work for a geisha”
“There used to be.” Kohana continued to smile but her chest sighed. “Women were the ones who invented it”
“What happened?”
“It was banned for being too provocative”

I thought to myself I would like to see one of those shows, but it would have been rude to say so in her presence. A cold hand slipped into mine.
“Come, I want you to meet a friend”

We met her friend for dinner inside. He was easy to spot being the only man in masked make up sitting alone. Kohana and I bowed to him as he stood up. Anyone else who failed to bow back to a woman who bowed as low as Kohana, would have seemed rude and arrogant. Yet somehow this actor pulled it off with disguised humility.
“Hidehiko San this is my friend Ryu Keiji”

A pair of strange grey eyes froze so cold, I thought he was having a heart attack. I almost believed he mistook me for someone who wanted to kill him. “It is a pleasure to meet you Keiji San”
To me he bowed almost to the floor. I returned the bow wondering if he had a disdain towards women, some men are like that. Either way I found him to be a very strange individual. For dinner we ate sukiyaki and passed the time pleasant enough.
Hiroshi (that was Hidehiko San’s first name) filled our ears with tales of the theatre all night. Between the lines of his speech I noticed his lips quivering, and his hands shaking as he reached for his tea. Was he on the verge of crying or still nervous from his performance? I didn’t think it was polite to ask. After most of the night was about him, he directed the last few moments of our conversation on to someone else. “Tell me Keiji San, what is that you do?”
Before I could speak, Kohana spoke for me.
“He’s a kimono maker”
Hiroshi’s eyes lit up as he gasped with excitement. “I used to - “ His excitement withered with his words at an unusual pace.
“Actually I’m an acupuncturist”
His head nodded as he seemed to understand more about Kohana’s interjection than I did. “A very noble profession. What is the strangest ailment you ever cured?”
Nodding he made a chipper sound that encouraged me to continue. I had to think about it.
“Well when I was still an apprentice there was an older lady who would come in, complaining of fatigue, with odd cuts and marks on her body. There wasn’t much I could do except give her a massage, and send her home with a packet of herbs to help her sleep better.”

The table became dead as my answer seemed too boring for their taste. Embarrassed I sipped my tea.

“I believe the night is growing old and I better get some sleep soon” Hiroshi stood up to leave and we volunteered to walk him home. Keeping to his odd demeanor he allowed us to walk him as far as the pass out of the Kyoto district. This time he bowed to each of us but managed to touch the sleeve of my kimono as he did. I did not care for it, and as inexcusable as most would find his previous behavior, it was the first time he seemed rude on purpose. Kohana turned to me as his silhouette faded.
“I think Hidehiko San likes you”
“Likes me? He seemed mortified by me”
“I don’t know for sure about him, but most men who are in kabuki, have an interest in other men”
I blinked. “You jest”
She gave me a serious look. “You‘re a very handsome man so don‘t hold it against him”

I knew what she meant. Too many take offense to the attraction from someone of the same sex, when they should take it as a compliment. Smiling, I took Kohana’s.

When I prepared to leave her for the night at the Matsuno okiya, I noticed what then seemed insignificant.
“Hmm”
“What is it?” came her voice, hiding behind a pair of hands. I spun the robe in my hands briefly, before dressing back into my plain one. “A thread came loose on the sleeve”
“What?!” She may as well have been yelling fire.

Throwing decency out the window she took the kimono from me, then seemed relieved.
“It will take a very minor repair”
Watching her I smiled. She got lucky as I was tying my obi. I wanted to kiss her but was instead escorted out the back.
“Meet me again the night after next?” She whispered by the door.
“Of course”


Chapter V


While it was true my generation was breaking off from the tradition of the last, I would never go as far as Syaoran, to say that we were wicked. We were human, and there is nothing good nor evil in human nature. We rejected the old religion and embraced a new one of sex. Homosexuality before unheard of was now more common place than heterosexuality. Young people were often inclined to experiment with opium. Kohana was one of them.

Once I accompanied her to an opium den, not much happened, and it is not a way I care to remember her. None the less, those memories are there.

She laid on her side keeping her pipe warm over a candle. We were secluded behind a peach colored curtain, turning my memory sepia tone. The room smells smokey sweet, it lingers of earth and is difficult to trace. Moss green eyes close in ecstasy before the corners of her mouth retreat to flash white.
“I could do this all day”
I sit there, bored, disappointed, watching her on sleep’s edge. As a doctor I can appreciate the anesthetic qualities, but I could never see much pleasure in it.

Her vice at one time tripped her on the stage. The poppy is not a good friend to grow old with. Usually she was an exquisite dancer but today she should have been more careful. From the audience I sighed and ordered more to drink. I lied to her.

“You did fantastic”
“You don’t sound sincere. I skipped over half the story. Could you even tell what was going on?”
I sighed defeated.

I wish I could cast a stone inside my mind and shatter this memory like glass. We always want to remember people as more perfect than they are, but their faults are just as much a part of them. When you love someone you love all their aspects.

I close this door and open another.

It’s bright outside. She’s wearing a pink kimono perfectly matching the low hanging cherry flowers. I have never seen her face so bright. My right arm is twisted around a tree branch, we’re talking, smiling, and laughing together. A fan made of cypress wood and painted paper is held in front of her nose and mouth.
“So tell me Kohana where did you come from?”
“Where every other geisha comes from”

I learned later from Kasumi that most geisha are sold into it by their families. Kasumi was an exception. She turned up on the okiya’s doorstep, bleeding everywhere from her mouth, her tongue cut out. They sent her to a doctor and she vowed to repay them in service. When I asked who cut out her tongue and why, she reported it was a man who had raped her and was afraid she would report the crime.

Chapter VI


Ask any Japanese person and they will tell you, the three most important things in Japan are silk, cherry trees, and tea. With the exception of Kohana the most important person in my young adulthood was Syaoran. Our tea times together is a treasure lost to the sea of my life.

In the different seasons we wear different styles of kimono. Having tea with Syaoran every day, the time ran together. All his kimonos looked the same, a black and red pattern of a crane. I barely ever noticed the subtle differences in the thickness of the layers, or the lengths of his sleeves.

We were having the same conversation we always did about the wickedness of my generation, when his lips lingered over the heat of his tea cup. Wooden brown eyes peering out from under powder white bangs, and wrinkled cheek bones that still managed to look young, contemplated in thought.
"Do you know what day it is?"
I thought about it.
"Uhm .. no.. what day is it?"
He turned his head and gave me a look as I should know but decided not to tell.
"You really don't know do you?"
"Monday?"
"You're twenty third birthday, and it's wednesday"

My face stretched in a bit of a shock.
"You're right! Has it been a year already?"
"You see me wearing my Haraguchi don't you?"
"All your kimonos look the same"
"Don't be catty," he paused, allowing me to sip my tea. "Before you can have my present you have to get dressed. Wear your red kimono it's your best one"

Excited I jumped from the table and started getting dressed. Syaoran knelt on the floor in front of me, helping to tie my obi.
"You look so handsome any woman would be impressed"
"There's only one woman I want to impress"
"You have a girlfriend? You should be married in no time"
His voice carried the same sigh of a mother who is losing her baby bird.
"Married?"

I tried to brush the thought from my mind as my hands smoothed out the end of my kimono. “Well.. I think we better get ready. Is it far?”

Syaoran waved his hand, a sign he was not sure. Nodding I knew the way he could be.

I was used to traveling with Syaoran and could predict how it would go. I took care to pack ourselves a lunch.

We paid for a rickshaw that took us to through gravel mountain paths, and into the busy entertainment district of Kyoto. The pleasant conversation ceased as I sat up, my heart thudding in my ears. This was different than the town where we would do every day trade, this was where the geisha and kabuki actors lived. I became nervous that we would run into someone I knew here. For the first time I realized I was leading a double life. Do not feel that because I use the term double life, that I was ashamed of any part of it. There was just no reason for the two to meet and one became the haven from the other.
We passed the very okiya Kohana must have been dancing in at that very moment. "Where are we going?"
My curiosity was almost unbearable now. I knew we would not be watching geisha or kabuki stories. Syaoran was not that kind of man. I wondered, would he be ashamed to know I was?
"You'll see. You must learn patience, patience is a very powerful thing"
"Aren't you the same man who told me power is a hideous and evil thing?"

"Don't twist my words," he scolded me, in the gentle way in which he did everything.

In the twilight, the driver stopped at an old estate, located in between the Kawaizu theatre and residences of painfully rich people. Standing outside I started inspecting every crack in the worn out wood, the undusted windows, the gargoyle stationed on guard duty. I almost didn’t hear Syaoran talking to the driver. To find beauty in architecture is not the same as cosmetic appeal. This cold worn out bath house, was beautiful.

Syaoran's hand found it's way to my shoulder. "What do you think?"
"It's wonderful, but why are we here? It can't still be in business can it?"
Syaoran shrugged. "It's yours now so you tell me"
My eyes must have bugged out of my head.
"How could you afford it?"
"I've been saving since you were born, and this place came cheap since the district shut it down for immoral conduct"


Chapter VII

We breathed warm life back into the bath house. The windows were clear and the walls had fresh white paint. The tatami mats were new and green, the tattered paper in the doors had been replaced. The garden was growing and appeared immortal. My gargoyle friend was happy about everything as well.

Every sento has a basic set up and is similar everywhere you go. Yet I still think that mine was the best.

When a customer walked into the Keiji bath house, they would see a large open door the size of a wall to their left, leading into a serene garden. Green round bushes, black stones accenting the paths, a brown wooden pavilion to sit under, a pond brimming with gold fish. In this walk way is where I would come to personally greet them and bow. “Please take off your shoes and leave them here”

I would take their money and lead them behind a blue curtain if they were male, or ask a female employee to attend to them if they were a woman.

The datsuijo is the changing room. Here they take off their clothes and are given the supplies they need to get clean before entering into the tub. I confess that the tub area that the datsuijos led into, were too dark for me to always keep an eye on. Sometimes I would walk in clear my throat, and bump in to someone who seemed too close for it to be an accident.

I could and did control my staff. My female attendants were not on any terms allowed to prostitute their bodies. If I found out any of them were guilty of this, they were terminated. I also hired a few boys to keep an eye out for rude men who came just to harass the girls.

Sentos were not always considered sophisticated. They were the kind of place a wife would not want her husband to go to, especially during the Edo period.
Women felt safe to come to mine, and were never afraid to let their husbands out of their cage.

Unlike the previous owner and everyone else, I followed the laws of moral conduct.

The first time Kohana came over was when we were still busy changing it. I hired a painter to depict her on the walls twice. Once in the men’s datsuijo kneeling nude by a pond, twirling a flower in her hand. Again in the women’s room dressed in green kimono, holding a parasol.

During the grand opening everyone from the Matsuno tea house and Kawaizu theatre were there. I gained a new recognition and new respect. I hired every Matsuno geisha I could for entertainment.

Kasumi's pale fingers danced as light as dragon flies over the pond of her silken koto strings. The koto was her voice and she sang in such a delicate manner, I thought the building itself would collapse into tears. I kept Kohana by my side as often as possible. She spent most of the time bragging about her picture being on the walls, trying to make all the other girls jealous. Her mother would pass through every now and then to rave about the seafood we were serving in the garden. Tetsu stayed in the tub, until the other customers started complaining that a certain loud mouth had been there for hours and would not leave.

“I’m sorry, it’s not my policy to rush any customer out, but I will see what I can do”

Hiroshi enjoyed massage until no one on staff could serve him any longer. Even my hands were beginning to cramp.

At the end of the party I collected so many incense sticks, I wondered how I would afford it all. An okiya’s service is billed in how far down the incense has been burned. Holding up heaven knows how many stubs, I bit my bottom lip.
“Hmm”
“Ryu chan”
I turned around surprised to see Hiroshi standing there, holding something small wrapped inside a red cloth. A little thrown off as well that he called me by my first name.

“Hidehiko San, I didn’t think anyone was here. I’m sorry” I bowed. “I should have shown you out”
“Your father said it would be alright if I stayed while you closed”
It didn’t seem like the time to explain that he was not my father.

“Ofcourse”
“I brought a present for you, to congratulate you on your new business”

Looking back at me was a full sized white mask, with elegant black lines painted around the vacant eyes, a blue tear rolling down the right cheek, and a stain over the grimacing mouth.
“You wore this in the eternal punishment”
I had no idea what to say, I was very touched.
“I know it’s your favorite story and we won’t be performing it again until next spring. By then we’ll make new props. I thought you would like it”
“Hidehiko San, thank you. This means a lot to me”
“Call me Hiroshi”
“Hiroshi”

Chapter VIII

A new business is supposed to lose money the first two years, my debt was no exception. My reputation was good and my pool of customers consisted of both old and new faces. With good reason I predicted I would be out of debt next year, and profiting the year after that. Also both me and Syaoran had moved in upstairs and off my father’s property.

I decided the time had come to ask Kohana to marry me. It was obvious to me her life was a river away from the life of other women, so I knew marrying her would be different. I did not know what would go into it, or how different it would really be, but whatever it was, I would learn and do. Before I went to her mother I would go to her and ask if she would have me.

I paid my father to tailor a wedding kimono of white and cream, for a girl of Kohana’s size. He fashioned it with the same indifference he would a stranger. I watched him with a needle in his mouth, realizing how much I depreciated my dislike of him. I hated the very sight of him working. He did not congratulate me, or council me if the time was right.

I wrapped the kimono in a white box filled with long stemmed roses and took it with me to the okiya. I ordered the best liquor they had, not sake, a kind of gin mixed with grapefruit juice. She was not performing that night, she was serving tea and seated at another table making conversation. The best performance a geisha will ever do is at your table. Her company was in an uproar of laughter. When she stole a glance at me, I smiled and waved to her. I met her outside, down the road that leads to the okiya.

It was sunset and the atmosphere was alive with the music and juggling of street performers. Somehow everything seemed quiet.
“This is for you” I opened the box for her, her eyes as panicked as a rabbit’s.

She ran away in such a quick motion, it confused and startled me. With shaky hands I closed the box. Turning away, hoping she would talk to me later.


Chapter IX

A week went by without seeing or hearing from Kohana. It was the longest I had ever spent without her. Strange, I did not understand how often we were in each other’s company, until it was taken away.

By no means am I the kind of man who sits waiting in a corner, twirling Chinese stress balls in his hands until he hears from his lover. Instead I spent the week working longer hours at the sento and catching up on activities I enjoyed but could not do with her. Making perfume, practicing calligraphy, challenging Hiroshi to a wrestling match.

At the end of the week I did receive an unexpected visit. Early before the sun shed his light, I hard a gentle knock at the door. As I dressed I knew it had to be a woman, but not Kohana. She knocked more like a man. Tying my obi, I wondered how long my visitor had been standing there, as the sound just barely succeeded in arousing me. As my foot stepped off the end of the stairs, another knock came from behind the door.

I smiled and bowed before I was able to take in their face. The tiny figure of Kasumi bowed back to me, smiling through her make up, with jasmine hanging from her hair. I could not help but notice that she smelled nice and was coming of age. She pulled out a piece of parchment from inside her blue watery sleeve. Handing it to me she kept her head bowed, so her eyes would be sure not to look at me. Taking the note in my right hand, my left hand pulled up her face by her chin. Gazing into her amber eyes, I spoke, my words kept soft.
“You’re not a maid you’re a miako and soon you will be a geisha. Act as confident as your older sister for you are now her mirror. Understand?”
Her head nodded in a meek way.

My heart leaped at what the note had to say. Kohana wanted to meet with me after her performance at the Matsuno tea house. Folding the letter I tucked it away inside my own kimono. “Tell your sister I will be sure to attend her performance tonight”

Kasumi nodded. After thinking about how much busier she already must have been than myself, I asked if she had eaten. She wrote me a note saying she had something small, but would not mind more if I had it. There were still a couple of hours ahead of me before opening, so I decided to make her something special.
“Do you like octopus?”
Eyes widening as if she would laugh she replied, “for breakfast?”
“Of course. What better time is there to eat it?”

There are much better times to eat it. I ended up making a soup, I admit it was horrible. Tentacles waving at you from a watery broth. Kasumi gave no complaint, with no tongue she could not taste what a mess I had made. I overlooked how hard it would be for her to eat the meat. When I saw she was having trouble, I took extra care to finely chop her portion so she could drink it.


Chapter X

As usual the Matsuno glittered with gold that night. Kohana made her way from the side to center stage. Her head bowed low, as her arm flowed up touching just below her breast. Her knees bent to the floor in a motion as sharp as the sound of the drum. Slow her neck arched back up to look at me with waterfall eyes. Her palm turned and stretched out towards me, trying to grab me. Something imaginary dropped from her hands and shattered on the floor. It was such a beautiful melancholy dance, yet this is all I remember. Does anyone truly remember the beautiful things? I clapped for her along with everyone else, my heart filled with secret pride. She left the stage and did not return to the entertainment room. After awhile I excused myself from a conversation with Hiroshi and Tetsu.



I walked through the halls towards her room. Made certain I was discreet about it and tapped light on her door. In the forceful motion I was acquainted with, she pulled me inside.

“What took you so long?” For a moment I was sure she would kiss me as her blood colored lips hovered over mine. “I had to be discreet” My breath felt hot with lust as my hands dared to pull her in closer. Wanting to know where this would lead, but knowing better than to ask. She pushed away from my chest before walking a small distance away. Her arms embraced themselves. In silence those womanly fingers slipped down to untie her willow green obi. My black eyes stared at it lying on the floor. Time had stopped, human needs were no longer vital. All that was important was a small piece of willow colored cloth.

Her eyes looked over a sun drop shoulder as every layer of the malachite kimono, crashed around a pair of strong ankles. Nudity so glorious now exposed to me, more beautiful than a painting. The skin below her ass wrinkled, dimpling over her thighs. Thighs thick and full of passion. A neck falling from raven tresses in such a way that God would cry. Her breast were not exposed to me, neither did I ask what they might look like. Her right arm stretched out, pulling in my vision. Sitting on top of her pristine skin was a serpentine dragon, curling his way down her arm. His face narrow, with a spiral eye and feather eyebrows, rested over her wrists. The outline and shading of the tattoo was simple black. As she spoke she too focused on the dragon, it was as if she was talking to it, instead of to me.

“This dragon represents you, locked on my arm where I will always have it” her voice started to tremble, by the candle light I could see a tear fall from her chin.
“I can’t marry you. Tetsu San has paid mother a lot to be my dana. I can only keep you as a dragon. His body is twisted as our relationship would be if it were to go on”

I take a step closer, fire beginning to burn in my chest.
“Come away with me. We’ll run away to China together. It doesn’t have to be like this, it can be different”
With her breath she scoffed and picked the kimono up off the floor.

“What?”
“What will we do once we’re there?” Her eyes burned in to me as her obi constricted around her waist, hiding what I loved so dear underneath.
“I’ll start my practice over. You can be the wife of a doctor. Why isn’t that good enough for you?”

If she had something in her hands I think she would have thrown it at me. Her face held a poisonous look as her mouth trembled in anger. “I never said you weren’t good enough for me” She raised her head high. “It sounds like a good life Ryu, but it’s not my life. I lead the life of a geisha and I blow like a leaf where the wind takes me. This was a mistake. I hate that I fell in love with you”

I could do nothing except scream, not even words, I just screamed. Quicker than the wind she just spoke about she put her hand over my mouth. I sank in muffled screams to my knees. God was unraveling me as he had put me together. Why was this happening? I was not allowed to leave until I calmed down.

I revisited the Matsuno because I was a customer, or so that is what I told myself. She continued to dance the same dance, and every finger that traced over my sake cup believed it was a message to me. Until I saw her direct it to Tetsu. My eyes burned, my lips pressed into my teeth. I watched him a wild fox on dinner’s tale. How I hated him. It is at this point I remember at one time I liked Tetsu. We had long conversations together. I can not recall ever liking them however. Every memory of him has been tainted by this act, that caused me to despise him. Memory is so malleable. I wonder if I truly, honestly, loved. Was this an infatuation, an obsession I can not let go of? I ask myself again who am I if I am not this man who held such passion in his heart? I may be many things. I have walked so many miles.


Chapter XI

A ghost, the moonlight crept through my bedroom window, making everything appear as miserable as I felt. I had become that man who crumbled like burning paper without his lover. My back was friends with the wall, as the rest of me took to the comfort of my futon for weeks now. Barely did I eat, not once did I sleep, unless it was the kind of rest where your mind blinks out from exhaustion. My black water eyes looked up from the cradle of my clawed hands. What was creaking in my room? A shadow of a shoulder, black and hard to see, stands in front of me. In a second I blink and it vanishes. Frustrated I wipe the thought from my forehead with the heel of my palm. As I moan I hear another noise rise under it, foot steps.

“Who’s there?”
This is silly no one is here. It’s the lack of sleep.

Deep horrified screams rise up from the lowest chambers of my vocal chords as unfamiliar, unseen pair of hands grab hold of my shoulders behind me. My foot presses down on it’s toes as my legs spring themselves forward. My arms outstretch to grab a hold of something, anything.
The room is silent.
I smell sulfur from the match an instant before my candle glows to comfort me. I walk back over to my bed to show myself there is nothing there, just a wall. For someone to have been behind me they would have had to come through the wall itself. I grimaced, hating the idea. The more analytical part of my brain moved in and assured my childishness that was impossible. However, it is possible for something to have grabbed me more from the side and in my frightened state I mistook it to be from behind. My eyes could not help but dart around the place. Deciding once more nothing was there, I turned to set the candle on the table. My mouth dropped open, too afraid this time to scream. Across from me something silver was glimmering in the light.

There was a pain in my neck and a horrible wet sucking sound in my ears. As I came to myself, I realized I could not breathe, a heavy weight was on my chest. I tried to push it off and discovered it was a body. A panic set in, I opened my eyes and found I was in a dark box. When I opened my mouth to scream I just managed hear myself. The corpse grabbed my hair and tilted my head up, then began to drink the blood from my jugular. My eyes widened and paralyzed with pain. Any hope I had to scream, to claw my way out, was killed. Soon I relented to the world of darkness and pain, where my mind became numb to that sound. I found a morbid comfort that I was not alone, and prepared to die there.

My dry tongue wiggled out of it’s scratchy cave in a poor effort to replenish moisture to my lips. Breathing heavily, I sat up in the middle of the floor, discovering my muscles ached. The eyes and brain in my head tried to make sense of their new surroundings.

A dark drafty room, no furniture, no carpeting, no mirrors, no wall decorations, no windows. One pillow on the floor, one hearth with a meager fire lit for warmth. Hugging my knees to my chest I did nothing but listen. Every sound I could hear came from below the wooden floor. Conversation, people laughing, music, screaming.

How did I get here? I think on the events as far back as I can make sense of them. My fingers glide to touch my jugular, the tips meet with a tight cotton cloth. Both hands slip under my hair to find where it has been tied. My nails work their way through the knot, unwrapping the bandage. Dropping the dressing in my lap, I see it is stained with blood and become occupied with the skin of my neck. It feels sore, rough to the touch, it makes me think of chewed meat. I wanted to cry. Did my skin look like chewed meat? Not being able to check made me feel that much more powerless.

I knew enough to make out I was in a mishuku style building, in which case, I might be able to escape if I could pick the lock. My nails began to scratch at the crevices between the floor boards, wanting to find a tool I could use. No lost hair pins, no stray sowing needle, all it got me was a splinter. I could hear the door’s foreboding drawn out creak as someone entered the room. As my eyes lifted for the first clear view of my assailant I became confused.
“Hiroshi?”

A new terror slept inside my chest. I believed myself to be a heterosexual man, and as such held certain fears of the kind of man Hiroshi was rumored to be.
"What are you going to do to me?"
"Nothing. I like you"
"Then .... why ... why ... did you bring me here?"

In an elegant almost seductive way, Hiroshi knelt and leveled his metallic eyes with mine.
"You're afraid aren't you?"

My head rocked in a stiff motion, yes.

No answer, he stood up and pulled from underneath his cloak a small wooden jar. As his gloved hands unscrewed the lid, I caught a heavy scent of mint.
"Do hold still"
He moved around me, kneeling behind my back, tapping balm onto the open places of my neck.
"I know what you're thinking, I do not have an interest in you of that kind. We are not all Kohanas in this world."

Somehow his alto voice devoid of attachment and emotion gave me comfort in that phrase.
"I do though, have an interest in you"

When he finished applying the ointment to my wounds, he bade me goodnight as he had done so often at the teahouses and left. It is odd, for the first time, I slept well.

Chapter XII

Well it seems I have come to the end of my tea. I welcome Yori back to the table. She has come to collect the empty dishes, not for conversation. As she leaves I notice the okiya growing busier with new comers ready for lunch. She did not even ask if I would like anything else. Perhaps, the reason I come here, is to remind myself the world has changed. There is nowhere that I can look and see a reflection of things past.

I appreciate you listening. It has been awhile since I have had such nice conversation. If you would like to continue this, without interruption, you can follow me back to my apartment.


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