#Geisha singing
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Period dramas dresses tournament: Pink dresses Round 1- Group A: Sayuri Nitta, Memoirs of a geisha vs Kathy Seldon, Singin' in the rain (appears in the last two gifs of this gifset)
Propaganda for Sayuri's kimono (written by a submitter):
Another pic
#period drama dresses tournament#tournament poll#tumblr tournament#polls#fashion poll#memoirs of a geisha#pink r1#sayuri nitta#chiyo sakamoto#kathy seldon#singing in the rain#singin' in the rain
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wouldn't it be neat if another one of sayuri's artisan skills is singing? though, she's so shy about it rarely does one even hear her hum. her voice leaning on a huskier && more melancholic note, only after her ascension during the culling game can one hear a soft hymn radiating from her - perhaps, a swan song for the past variation of who she was before the fires swallowed that version up.
#// hatsuko going mad because she is a threat: singing/dance/ intellectual conversation#// but she's so damn icy / scared of everything when she just knows sayuri could have been a wonderful geisha#// and it also slaps her too since she taught her / that is her own personal shikomi / maiko#// then they hear her humming during the perfect preparation arc when she's more 'vulnerable' from her injuries#// somewhere in the gardens surrounded by the violet curtains of the wisteria tree#// quietly humming so her heart can just grieve#OUT.*
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so I watched Where the Crawdads Sing the other night and man I am soooooooooooo sick of stories that sort of dance around rape for the intrigue without really reckoning with it. like are there sexual encounters that fall in sort of a gray area of consent in real life? yes and we can have that conversation, but I am so tired of using it as a trope - these little narrative gymnastics of "she never said no (even though she didn't really know what sex entailed and/or in all other ways has clearly no power or control in the situation) - it wasn't nonconsensual" or "he didn't actually get inside her so it doesn't really count, it's just attempted rape" or "they're together romantically so they're having sex anyway".......stop with this please. how are any of these "not as bad" or supposed to be easier to stomach. stop acting like rape can be watered down for consumption.
I should also mention there ARE stories where men are the victims as well (Wedding Crashers, anyone?). sorry but sexual assault doesn't suddenly become funny just because it's happening to a dude. fuck off.
#just to name a few:#h*use of flying daggers#m*moirs of a geisha#br*dgerton#th* calligrapher's daughter#also man look i get that the point of Where the Crawdads Sing is that she takes back her agency by killing him.#but it's so uncompelling? and the symbolism of the shell necklace is so heavy-handed
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She paints her face to hide her face. Her eyes are deep water. It is not for geisha to want. It is not for geisha to feel. Geisha is an artist of the floating world. She dances, she sings. She entertains you, whatever you want. The rest is shadows, the rest is secret. MEMOIRS OF A GEISHA 2005 — dir. Rob Marshall
#memoirs of a geisha#filmedit#filmgifs#moviegifs#userfilm#dailyflicks#cinemapix#fyeahmovies#doyouevenfilm#userstream#f: memoirs of a geisha#cat: mgif
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“Pretending to be a young man, Senju was granted access to the red district. Drinking, dancing and singing with the geisha allowed her a brief moment of happiness and freedom which she’ve been craving since her wedding.”
A bit more of my maisenju Edo Yakuza AU
#drawing#sketch#sketchbook#drawn#manga#anime#tokyo revengers#akashi senju#senju kawaragi#geisha#edo period#yakuza au#by the power of the author I declare that the two background geisha laughing are lesbians
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He was like a song I’d heard once in fragments but had been singing in my mind ever since.
Arthur Golden, from 'Memoirs of a Geisha'
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youtube
“She paints her face to hide her face. Her eyes are deep water. It is not for Geisha to want. It is not for geisha to feel. Geisha is an artist of the floating world. She dances, she sings. She entertains you, whatever you want. The rest is shadows, the rest is secret.” ― Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha
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Can you write the DMC boys watching their s.o doing the Geisha makeup on herself:
She’s just sitting there, 7am in the morning, applying her makeup for work, wearing her clothes to get ready for work (There’s a common misconception that leads to a lot of ppl thinking Geisha can be hired as a “sex worker” but in reality reader is only hired to entertain like singing, dancing, conversing, etc)
And the boys are like: 😚 U look good
(She works as a geisha during daytime but work as a devil hunter during night time and I’d like to imagine her wearing her makeup before hunting like the Kyoshi Warriors in Avatar The Last Airbender)
Oh yes, please enjoy!
Sparda boys + V x Geisha!Reader headcannons
¤ Dante ¤
-Dante has never seen a Geisha before, but he has heard of them from clients and the occasional traveler he meets at the ice cream parlor.
-He happened to be passing by the bedroom at 7 AM doing God-knows-what when he saw you applying your makeup, getting ready to go to work.
-He thinks your super white makeup is super cool, and has stolen some of it on occasion to dress up as a ghost to mess with Vergil.
-Thinks you look absolutely beautiful all dressed up like that, though he is wondering how you get your hair in that shape--and how it stays that way.
-Would love to "hire" you for a night so he can see for himself what Geisha like you actually do. He's broke, so hopefully you'll let him pay in kisses.
-Accidentally used one of your hair ornaments to eat microwave ramen. How that even happened is beyond either of you.
■ Vergil ■
-Vergil never even knew what a Geisha was until now. When he first saw you all dressed up and stuff, he thought he cut a portal into the wrong dimension and time traveled to Tokugawa-period Japan somehow.
-He happened to catch sight of you doing your makeup one morning as you prepared for work and was stunned for two reasons. 1, you were beautiful, and 2, what was that pasty white stuff?
-He became very interested in observing the process, hovering over you every second until you had to ask him to move because he was in your light.
-He liked watching you get into your kimono, too, and even helped you tie some of the sashes and ribbons.
-He loved the way your hair looked too; watching you put it up into such an elaborate hairstyle so easily was so cool in his eyes.
-He insisted on accompanying you to work because someone so beautiful should not be on the streets alone. Bad things can happen.
□ Nero □
-Nero heard stories about Geisha and was a little confused as to what exactly they did because people had mixed opinions.
-You quickly clarified all that though; you're just an entertainer, no sexual practices take place between you and your clients.
-Nero didn't expect to have to watch you put your makeup on one day, but here he was, standing in the doorway, captivated.
-You were just so freaking beautiful he couldn't take his eyes off you! No wonder you were making such big bucks doing this stuff, the whole town must want you to attend their events.
-He keeps messing with your hair accessories, playing with them, poking himself with them, and such. He is fascinated with them, and sometimes he won't give them back till you forcibly take it from his hands.
-He would love to go with you to work to watch you dance and sing, but that would be rude and unprofessional, so he will simply wait for when you get a day off and ask for a "private show".
● V ●
-V was literally born yesterday, so of course he has no idea what a Geisha is or what they do.
-He does like your kimono, though, it's very beautiful and the floral patterns are visually pleasing.
-He loves to help you tie any ribbons or sashes that need tying because his deft fingers love to work.
-Adores watching you apply your makeup because the process is truly mesmerizing. He might not know what that weird white paint-like makeup is, but he loves it.
-Your eyes are already beautiful, he thinks, but when you put on that red eyeshadow, he thinks you look even better.
-V is a little bit jealous other people get to see you looking like this. He wishes you could stay home longer so he could keep you to himself a little longer.
#Dmc#Dmc5#devil may cry 5#devil may cry#dmc dante#dmc vergil#dmc nico#dmc v#dmc5 dante#dmc5 vergil#dmc5 nero#dmc5 v#dante devil may cry#vergil devil may cry#nero devil may cry#v devil may cry#v dmc#nero dmc#vergil dmc#dante dmc#dante x reader#vergil x reader#nero x reader#v x reader#dmc dante x reader#dmc vergil x reader#dmc nero x reader#dmc v x reader#dmc5 dante x reader#dmc5 vergil x reader
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Sinful Sunday. Sekido x Orian reader. He knows Reader job but finally can't take it anymore when he learned that a demon slayer has payed for your services. This is enough to make him punish you. Be it spanking, whips, gagged and tied up. He has jealous, possessive sex with you and he will take you away so no one else can steal you
SINFUL SUNDAY
As an oiran, life was a complex tapestry of beauty and pain. Every day, you adorned yourself with exquisite silk kimonos, your face a canvas for the art of geisha makeup. Your movements were graceful, and your smile was enchanting.
Yet beneath the delicate exterior lay a world of challenges. You were bound by strict traditions and expectations, serving as both an entertainer and a conversationalist. The demands of your clients were often relentless, and you had to master the art of discretion and seduction.
The physical toll was just as demanding. Your feet ached from the wooden geta sandals, and the elaborate hairstyles were both a work of art and a source of discomfort. You masked the pain with grace, for an oiran never revealed her struggles.
In the world of the oiran, beauty and sacrifice intertwined, creating a life of enchanting allure and profound difficulty.
Sekido had known about your job for a while, and though it had always been a source of tension, he had grudgingly accepted it.
But when he learned that a demon slayer had paid for your services, something inside him snapped. The very idea of you being possessed by those who hunted his kind was too much for him to bear.
His anger was palpable as he confronted you, his voice laced with fury that evening. "I can't believe you'd stoop so low, offering your services to those demon-slaying vermin! Have you no shame? No loyalty, you little slut?"
You tried to explain, to make him understand that it was just a job, but his rage was unrelenting. He believed your actions were a betrayal, and his punishment was swift and severe, a physical and emotional pain that left you shattered. The line between love and anger had blurred, and Sekido's fury had taken over, leading to a harsh and unforgiving retribution.
His rough, clawed fingers glided in and out of your wet cunny, then ventured lower, causing a sharp reaction. One slick finger teased your sensitive anus, circling it once, twice, and then repeatedly, driving you wild with desire. Sekido confidently pushed his digit inside, and you couldn't resist the temptation.
You pressed back, allowing him to delve deeper. Your moans filled the air of the room he paid for as his other hand sensually caressed your throbbing sex, his thumb sinking into your wet, quivering pussy.
The demon drew his thumb out of your pussy then lowered his face and lapped at your clit with his tongue as his finger continued to slide in and out of your tight asshole.
You moaned, just for him. You bucked and pushed against the finger.
Sekido's free hand swiftly rose and delivered a sharp, commanding slap to your cheek. The sting of the impact reverberated through the air, and he demanded, "Do you even remember to whom you belong, pathetic slut?!"
You eagerly whined, "I'm yours, Sekido, only yours."
Sekido's eyes narrowed, a demanding edge to his voice as he taunted, "Prove it, then, you feeble weakling. Demonstrate it, sing for me as you always do!" Sekido advanced, his firm grip on your hips lifting you, and his hard cock pushed into your slick, heated entrance, delving deeper and deeper, stretching you to your limits. He spanked your asscheek hard enough to leave a mark there. He reached out and took the silky panties you wore that night that he ripped out of you and pushed them hard in your mouth, gagging you. "Just like that, bitch. If a single tear escapes your eye, it's going to tick me off, big time."
As he continued to thrust with unyielding intensity, you felt your head spin with desire. His movements were relentless, driving you wild, and his lips caressed your pert nipples, first one, then the other, his tongue teasing each taut bud with a tantalizing flicker. "You're fucking mine, slut. You'll be mine forever."
You craved it, a hunger for him to claim you completely, to dominate your every desire if it meant he would keep pleasuring you. Ecstasy consumed your body as you climaxed around his pulsating manhood, and Sekido paused for a moment before thrusting deep once more, releasing his seed into your core, making your inner walls clench around him as his cum painted your spongy walls white. "Fucking mine," he growled.
In that moment, you descended into a state of pure oblivion.
#doumadonos sinful sunday 🔥#sinful sunday#anime smut#smutty smut smut#smutty blurb#asked and answered#sinful sunday anon#divider by cafekitsune#sekido smut#sekido#hantengu clones#sekido x reader#sekido x y/n#sekido x you#kny smut#demon slayer smut#sekido kny
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Hi Justine 👋😊
I had to admit that I wanted to ask you this question long time ago, but I was too afraid of being disrespectful.
On 3rd March, Two maiko had debuted in Yuzawa.
One thing that caught my attention was that the nigongami looked disheveled, and the quality of their shironuri seem lower than the make up I've seen in other maiko, geisha, geiko, geigi, hangyoku...
I decided to ask you today because I've seen the person from the Instagram account @geishamaiko has talked about them.
I don't know if by the time you are reading this the story is still available and I don't think that it is correct to add the image here, so I will write you what the post in his story says:
"I agree that many areas of Japan can recover their Kagai. but it cannot be done by copying Kyoto."
"The girls can't make a debut with a hairstyle like that. It is very ridiculous."
"They can't dance smiling and looking around. To maintain tradition there must be a basis. It becomes a tourist spectacle imitating Kyoto"
Also, he added this link, where you can see them dancing.
https://local-tv.marketplace.rakuten.co.jp/abs/mov/240308_02/?fbclid=PAZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAabWEZGHeZhGRZPbah5Nqg7q4owq-BMvWLcVQoXbHJvIl3fQS0H3X9XeDjA_aem_AWU7tnBrKcxInP7znxencSeIqo0BlopsYbGjj8HyHWymGke6mHO84xpt-ezevos_Ye31NzmjeOOLTAUWQmHNeIYR
With that being said, what is your opinion about their situation?
Yuzawa's geimaiko population is relatively new as they've undergone a revival project to keep the traditions going there with new blood. This isn't uncommon for small pockets of geisha in rural areas across the country and most are even being helped by their local governments to do so. Yuzawa's traditions are based on Kyoto's, with their girls even wearing some kimono and obi previously owned by Kyoto okiya. They learn the Okamoto style of dance, but will also dance the Gion Kouta as seen in the video. This was the first time they've ever done a misedashi ceremony like the ones done in Kyoto, so they were trying it out as a way to show off their current members and to drum up some support for the new girls. Obviously the new maiko didn't look perfect as they didn't have professional makeup artists doing their oshiroi (the girls themselves likely did it) and their hair was likely done by their onesan (I don't think Yuzawa has a nihongami specialist, but I could be wrong), but overall it was a decent presentation, and as long as the girls and the guests had a good time then that's what mattered. To say that they can't dance while smiling or looking around just shows how uneducated the commenter is as traditional dance isn't as stiff or unfeeling as they seem to think. Yes, the Inoue style, who follows the Noh tradition, doesn't show much emotion at all, but other styles that follow the Kabuki tradition, such as Okamoto or Umemoto, can and do. This is why the finale of the Kyo Odori, which is choreographed in the Umemoto style, promotes a very expressive style of dance where even the singing of the lyrics to the song is encouraged! So, sometimes you just need to stop and analyze what's going on instead of just criticizing the outward appearance that you have no prior information about ^^
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Hello! I wanted to make a request,basically headcanons of kaigaku,tengen and obanai with a geisha reader,in case you dont know about geishas let me explain it to you
Geishas are a class of female Japanese performing artists and entertainers trained in traditional Japanese performing arts styles, such as dance, music and singing, as well as being proficient conversationalists and hosts. Their distinct appearance is characterised by long, trailing kimono, traditional hairstyles and oshiroi make-up. Geisha entertain at parties known as ozashiki, often for the entertainment of wealthy clientele, as well as performing on stage and at festivals.
Usually are mistaken for oirans(prostitute) from the western people due to the similarities of their kimono and makeup.
I hope this helps and have a nice day!
Oh! Okay, I’ll try this! I’m not really sure it’ll be good, thank you! A Geisha sounds like a wonderful person!
Inadama Kaigaku
Kaigaku is so stunned by you entertaining and making others laugh on stage, that he can barely keep himself composed. You’re just so beautiful and funny, what is there not to love?
Kaigaku feels a bit underneath you and jealous, since all your gigs are for wealthy clientele and you hit off so well with everybody you make conversation with. He doesn’t want to lose you, so he gets mad
Kaigaku is very defensive when anybody dare try to proclaim you’re a Oiran. Yes, the similarities are uncanny but you aren’t that low! And Kaigaku will scare away the people who do say that
Uzui Tengen
Tengen is a classy man of music himself so he is very interested in you and has plenty of money and resources to back up his request. He loves Geishas himself and attends their shows, including yours
Tengen and his wives, help put on your beautiful makeup and clothing everyday. He will make you look so splendid, the men will drop to the floor at the sight of you. He always proclaims
Tengen is the one who helps you around. Your kimono is very long and people could step on it, that’s why he is there to make sure not a single inch of your beauty is tainted. He is protective like that
Iguro Obanai
Obanai is very attracted to how talented and beautiful you and your image are. You radiate elegancy, and he simply loves it, he doesn’t have to buy to be around you? Does he?
Obanai will happily buy you brand new songwriting paper and instruments for you to use for your special events, and the way you smile. Your happiness will always be his happiness
Obanai also attends your performance pieces and art shows as to be your biggest support, as he is. He wants to always be there for you to show his devotion and his passion for supporting you
#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#kny imagines#anime and manga#headcanons#kny hashira#iguro obanai#obanai iguro#uzui tengen#tengen uzui#inadama kaigaku#kaigaku inadama#kimetsu no yaiba obanai#kimetsu no yaiba tengen#kimetsu no yaiba kaigaku#obanai iguro x reader#tengen uzui x reader#kaigaku inadama x reader#demon slayer obanai#demon slayer tengen#demon slayer kaigaku
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“They’re cute” Part 2/2 (Nakime || Request by @cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme)
Rating: Explicit
General genre and genre for this part: Romance || Dark fic
Word count and reading time: ±15.8k (1h)
Pairing: (Biwa Demon) Nakime x Human!Reader
Fandom: Kimetsu no Yaiba
⚠ Warnings for this part of the request: Minor death, Dead bodies, Desecration of a human corpse, Larvae and flies, Blood, Falling into madness, Jealousy and possessive behavior, Mental problems, Presented the character's past (from "Kimetsu no Yaiba Official Fanbook: Kisatsutai Kenbunroku 2"), Forbidden Love/Mutual Pining, || NOT EDITED
Autor’s Note: Okay, so before you read this, listen to me, my reader. The reason why this Request is divided into two parts is that with Nakime I immediately filled the limit of 1k text panels. And also the previous part with Daki and Mukago was light, but here it will be very heavy and dark - I don't even know how it happened because it was supposed to be another fluff. All of them were supposed to be fluffy and light, and each of them with a maximum length of 3k words, of which Daki would be the longest (I expected 9k from the start)! I really have no idea what happened here... I swear! All of a sudden, I felt like it was boring, and I panicked a little bit, and then it got wild. After that I felt like it was boring again, and I kind of forgot the exact request that was... And this was created. I hope the characters aren't too OOC here. I will humbly accept any harsh criticism for this.
➵ “They’re cute” Part 1/2 (Daki & Mukago)
> Nakime Masterlist
➻ Little dictionary:
Zataku (座卓) - is the generic term for this kind of low table.
Hadajuban (肌襦袢, はだじゅばん) - are a type of kimono undergarment traditionally worn underneath the nagajuban. Hadajuban are even further removed from resembling a kimono in construction than the nagajuban; the hadajuban comes in two pieces (a wrap-front top and a skirt), features no collar, and either has tube sleeves or is sleeveless.
Kimono (着物, きもの, lit. "thing to wear") - is a traditional Japanese garment. The kimono is a wrapped-front garment with square sleeves and a rectangular body, and is worn left side wrapped over right, unless the wearer is deceased.
Jitō (地頭) - were medieval territory stewards in Japan. Appointed by the shōgun, jitō managed manors, including national holdings governed by the kokushi or provincial governor.
Okyia (置き屋) - residence maiko or geisha and may be inhabited by several of them. The first step of a woman, who wants to become a geisha is to accept in the okiya. The owner of the geisha house, okāsan (Japanese: "mother"), pays for the upkeep and training of their wards. In return, they give part of their earnings to support the house and other non-geisha residents. Okiya isn't a geisha workplace, they work in teahouses called ochaya.
Geisha (芸者) - in Japan, a woman with artistic skills, entertaining guests with conversation, dancing, singing and playing traditional instruments (e.g. shamisen, koto or shakuhachi). She can also conduct a tea ceremony (chadō) and she's as well-read as oiran. They dressed very modestly, but with taste and boasted sugao, i.e. face without makeup. In the opinion of the Japanese, they were considered the ideal of bijin ("beautiful woman"). Before a woman becomes a geisha, she must pass a six-year maiko period. If a geisha has a permanent partner, she must move out of okiya and okāsan can adopt a geisha. She then gains the privilege of a permanent resident of the house. Her debts to okiya are cancelled, but at the same time all of her income goes to upkeep of the house.
Knock, knock, knock.
A loud knocking sounded in Nakime's head. She knew everything that was going on at Infinity Castle.
She could hear the whistling of air as Kokushibo swings his sword when he practiced, the cries of Douma's victims from his Eternal Paradise as he fed and and where its dangerous snares also reached or the hundreds of footsteps of stray, weak demons wandering through her dimension.
It was her domain, her territory, her kingdom. Her world. She was in charge here, and nothing could surprise her.
And yet she didn't expect it.
She knew it was wrong and also that he knew it too. After all, she had His blood in her and could not hide anything from Him.
If he noticed something, he didn't pay attention to it. He was too busy with his tubes and the reactions going on in the glass vessels. For several hours he worked relentlessly mixing his blood with various substances and despite many failures he still managed to remain calm.
'Still' is the keyword here.
Because even he, after millennia of unsuccessful attempts, could finally lose his patience.
Before the knocking could irritate him, she tugged the strings of biwa and moved to another place, the old washitsu room, where her domain merged with the outside world.
So where?
Here, where the smell of blood and stale liquor still hovered. Here, where everything is familiar, though strangely different from what she has created herself with her art and sound.
And where she didn't like to be. This place confused her - filled her with many emotions that she thought she had buried deep and long time ago in her forgotten past, when she was still human.
Sitting straight on tatami mats, she looked around the traditional Japanese room as if it was her first time. There was not much in it: only a low table, at which still stood a clay glass for sake, and a pitcher lying next to it, the contents of which had spilled on the floor long ago.
The zabuton pillow, which she used to use while sitting and practicing on her beloved instrument, began to rot from spilled rice wine and large blood stains staining the floor around her.
The mats were completely ruined by it and had to be replaced, but this was no longer her problem. It belonged to her old life. Just like this house and the emotions it aroused in her.
Anger, grief and sadness all combine into one, giving her both headache and a tightening of abdomen. The smells irritated her nostrils and burning her esophagus.
She wanted to raze this house to the ground to cut herself off from her pathetic, weak, human self once and for all.
It was not her place now.
That woman was dead. She died in an alley by getting carried away in a sea of endorphins, blinded by pride and overestimated her abilities.
Did she really think she could hurt Him? Stupid, pathetic thinking of a weak human.
She lifted up her slender hand holding the wooden batchi pick tighter, ready to give a full show of her power until another knock pulled her out of trance again.
A quick "knock, knock, knock" sounded in the room this time, and it wasn't so loud when it was not only thundering in her head and had to overcome the distance to her in the air. Through the thin shōji door, she could see the shadow of the figure standing behind them in the rays of the rising sun.
She was about to pull the strings again to snagged the person standing at her door, but she heard how familiar voice called her by a name she no longer recognised, adding the honorary title '-sama'.
This voice... evoked a pleasant feeling in her chest, and before the eye of her mind appeared the image of a human. She could not remember the face, because it was shrouded in a thick mist of forgotten like so many elements of her past, but she knew where she remembered this person from.
This human used to come to her shows. Before she was transformed by Him, she made a living entertaining people with her music.
Although many people (traders, craftsmen) came to relax with the sounds of her instrument, she could not afford much at home. Most of her paycheck was taken by her husband...
He was a gambling addict.
And he lost. Time after time. One loss after another. Until finally he finally went too far, took something precious from her and lost it. That was the last straw.
A black-haired woman grabbed her head trying to interrupt the flow of memories. She plunged her sharp, blue nails into her long hair and unconsciously began pulling on them to distract her from them. Wanting to turn the bitter pain of past wrongs into physical.
She couldn't stand it and... What did she do?
Ah, yes.
She killed him.
Now she remembers it exactly. She used a hammer and smashed his head for losing her only kimono in which she could perform, and then she went on stage as usual.
In her head were the voices of people who began to mock her, and their howl hurt her ears. She felt their malicious, unfavorable gazes judging her poor, useless, holey clothes.
The only other kimono she found in the closet that could replace her previous one.
Although she was frightened and humiliated, she tried not to show it and humbly looked down to somehow escape, to separate herself from them, when her legs were heavy as lead, her feet were planted in the ground.
Then her eyes met the only friendly look. Its owner sat the closest to the wooden stage and did not show her the pity, that you feel for a pathetic dying animal. It would only humiliate her even more. He really felt sorry for her. Those eyes were so sweet and gentle. Looking at them from behind her dark bangs, she began to play.
The slender fingers, on which, despite the long friction and washing, she still felt warm blood, moved themselves along the long neck of the instrument, pressing the appropriate chords and getting out of it as much as she could.
The other hand was not left behind, pulling the strings and creating together an unusual composition, although inside her body she was trembling.
She was afraid they would know. That they might already figure out what she did. The tension in her rose and could be felt in her music. Her hands were shaking and sweat was all over her body, but she never stopped playing.
The sounds were as clear as a calm surface of water in a lake and spread throughout the room hypnotizing everyone.
Despite the loud tones of her biwe, she could hear the audience holding their breath at more tense moments or whispering quietly to each other, covering their mouths with their hands or paper fans.
She had nothing left - no kimono, no means of subsistence, no talent...
When she finished playing the first tune, she felt mentally exhausted. She waited for the first signs of discontent among the crowd, but they remained silent. Uncertainly, she looked up from the floor and saw everyone staring at her like enchanted.
A moment later, someone from the end of the room called for an encore, and the rest of the gathered people follow up him, and then everyone chanted for more and more.
Before anyone had time to notice, the night passed them all like a dream. It was... Her best performance so far.
Tired, but drunk with many applause and praise, panting heavily, she returned to her house. Where the smell of alcohol and blood still hovered.
Her hands were all numb and aching from squeezing strings, when the customers was still called for more. Even the owner asked her after the show if she would come the next night and paid her handsomely for her work. She's never made this much money for one show before.
She was planning on buying herself a new, better kimono tomorrow. Maybe even two.
However, when she got home, all her good mood with blush disappear, when she remembered her problems. Actually, the one that was still lying there like she left him all night.
She had no idea how to dispose of the body. Where would she possibly hide them? How long would it take to find them?
Without more thought, she undressed her last kimono and dragged the inert corpse to the other room, which had previously been her bedroom. There she covered them with a sheet and left them.
She was aware of the stench they were about to emit and what might happen to her in return, but she didn't think about it then.
She resisted them and tried to live as before. With an old rag she tried to wipe away the already dried dark stains of blood with tatami, but no matter how much and how hard she rubbed, they remained.
After bathing in the bowl - wiping herself with a damp piece of fabric, she pulled out another futon and lay down in the living room so she not to have to lie next to the corpse and as soon as her head touched the pillow she fell asleep. The sun was slowly rising over the horizon.
She had no dreams that night.
Still hoping for a better day, she got up late in the afternoon and, as she had planned, went out to buy a new outfit.
However, already on the threshold of the house she saw a parcel left at her door. The paper, in which the package was wrapped, rustled when she took it in her hands and after tearing a hole in it she saw inside a beautiful dark material.
It was kimono with silver thread embroidered patterns and multicolored flowers. Among them, she recognized red tsubaki, light pink sakura, purple sakurasou and white ume.
It was beautiful and certainly expensive. She thought it might have cost even more than her paycheck yesterday.
Who could have given it to her?
She'd been offered a patron or danna-san, but she wasn't a geisha. She never went to special schools and was never a maiko. And she's already married, which is unacceptable to a geisha.
Nor was she weak or pathetic enough to accept alms. She could take care of herself and earn money.
But unfortunately, when she returned to the venue in the evening full of energy, her performances were not as unusual as before...
Even though the place was full of people, even though she was wearing a new kimono - a simple, dark brown kimono that she bought the same day from an older woman who ran her own store - and she was calmer than last time, she didn't do so well.
No matter how hard she tried and how much her fingers hurt from the strings after all, she couldn't repeat the success of the night before.
When she finished the first song she looked at the crowd and saw people whispering to each other with disgruntled faces, and the owner looked at her with doubt. Among those closest to her, she even saw a few looking at her with worry written on their faces.
Hoping to improve the situation, she tried again and again, but it was... mediocre. And that was until she started getting nervous and making amateur mistakes.
Anxiety and cold sweat overwhelmed her more and more as she confused the chords or made unclean sounds by improperly pressing the strings. She didn't know what was going on.
Feeling like she was fooling herself, she finished her show earlier than the night before and left. Or rather, she ran away.
She had to get out, she just had to get as far away from them as she could. She felt small under the weight of their eyes and that she was suffocating from the tension.
On the way home, she heard someone calling her. She pretended not to hear the voice, but the pushy person stopped suddenly in front of her, consciously or not, blocking her way back home.
She recognized the person as a client from the place closest to the stage. This was the same customer, who was the only one who looked at her with compassion during her performance last night and today looked worried about her condition.
"May I have a moment?" You asked kindly, bowing and introducing yourself. You was still breathing heavily from running after her.
She think that you have to even fall in the mud, which could be indicated by your dirty clothes on the right side and your wet sleeve.
She didn't want to talk to stranger, but out of courtesy she decided to see what do you wanted from her.
"I saw your performance, and I'd like to ask... Is everything all right?"
"In what sense?"
"During the first performance, you came in a ruined clothes, and today..." You stopped, not knowing how to define today's fiasco.
"Everything is fine, please do not make any more insinuations."
"My apologies, I didn't mean to offend you," you said, trying to defend and not upset the woman even more. It wasn't your intention at all.
"So leave me alone now."
Nakime walked around you and was about to left you behind her back, but you showed up right next to her.
"Could I at least walk you home? It's dangerous to walk alone at night," you said, fall into step with her.
She only answered you with a short, sharp "no" and sped up her step even more. You did the same thing, getting on her nerves.
"Then may I at least ask why you did not wear that kimono?"
"Excuse me?" She asked, but she didn't slow down. She frowned in anger. "So it was you. I do not need anyone's pity or charity."
She said through clenched teeth and her fists until her fingernails left crescent moon prints inside her hand.
"Oh, no! No, that was never my intention! I would never dare!" You defended yourself by raising your hands to your chest as a gesture of submission.
"I do not need this. I can take care of myself."
"I just wanted to help..."
"It is not necessary."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I was worried to see you like that. You've never performed like this before..."
Sweating from nerves and feeling the anger of a dark-haired woman, you slowed down until you finally came to a complete stop. She didn't do the same and didn't even notice your confusion. Your last words were echoing in her head.
Does that mean you've been coming to her shows for a long time? How much could you know about her?
After a moment of hesitation, you followed her a few steps after her. The night could be dangerous even for a single man, let alone a woman.
She heard rustling of your shoes on the ground, but she didn't stop to look at you again. She didn't want to pay attention to you, hoping you'd get bored soon.
In the end, you escorted her all the way home.
- - -
On the third night, when she again failed to reach the previous level with her performance, she started lost her mind again.
Everyone seemed to look at her with contempt or regret or as if they knew what she had done. In a hurry, she fled to her home, wanting to hide in the safe four walls as soon as possible, but even they did not give her comfort.
You walked her home quietly again. You haven't said a word to each other, and that's fine. Otherwise, she felt like she'd scratch your eyes out or pull your tongue.
She didn't understand what she had done wrong, why she couldn't play like she did then. Is there something wrong with her instrument? Or is it with her?
In desperation and to get rid of the excess of overwhelming emotions, she began throwing clay, decorative jugs and screaming. She did not know how much time she had spent demolishing the room, but when she finished, she was kneeling sweaty on the mats, breathless and on the verge of collapse.
She's been so busy she hasn't heard your quiet knock. She only noticed you after you asked her through the door if she was okay.
She told you to leave, and despite the silence, she wasn't sure if you'd listened to her.
- - -
The next day, she didn't go on stage. Nor the next one, or even the day after that.
She lay apathetic in the middle of the room among broken glass, her long hair looked like a big pool of black blood and listening to the sound of flies buzzing behind a thin wall. The body must have started to rot and give off that characteristic insipid sweet smell that had not yet reached her.
She didn't feel up to anything, even to eat or drink water. When she heard the silent knock, she thought it was just a dream.
Sleep was no longer her salvation and escape from reality. She felt threatened all the time during it and was even more tired after waking up, until she stopped sleeping. Time slipped her slowly as she saw changes in the light coming through the window under the very roof.
Soon after, she was no longer sure she was still trapped in her sleep. An endless nightmare she can't escape from.
Only after long hours, when finally the thirst began to overwhelm her, she get up to drink from the nearby well.
With a slight trembling on her limp and weak legs, she moved to the door and almost fell over the pitcher standing next to it. The vessel tipped over pouring water around. There was also a bowl with a clay lid on it.
Nakime barely sit on the ground. She got dizzy and feel foggy for a while, but she managed to come to her senses.
She lifted a warm lid, and the strong smell of spices and hot steam from her shoulder struck her face. Then she felt a pain in her stomach, reminding her that she hadn't had anything in her mouth for a long time.
The bowl had ordinary ramen in it. The black-haired woman swallowed the saliva that flowed into her mouth and lifted the overturned jug with some water left in it. Unlike food, it was pleasantly cool moisturizing her dry throat.
She was about to start crying while she was eating. Food has never tasted so good.
Feeling better, she went home leaving empty dishes on the doorstep. She knew who brought it, and she expected you to come back.
The food was warm, which would indicate you were here recently. Did you come earlier to check on her, too? Were there any more meals? How did it feel to see that she didn't touch the food you brought?
She went to sleep again when she was full. She felt tired, but this time her sleep was peaceful. When she woke up, she felt better, so she decided to do something (although she was still weak).
She carefully collected the glass from the tatami mat and ate the scraps of food she found at home. With the money from the show a few days ago, she bought a big bag of rice and some meat in addition to a kimono, so she still had something to eat.
She hasn't touched any more of the dishes you left her. She was grateful for the meal earlier, but when she didn't need it, she wasn't planning on taking any help from you.
But she didn't spend the day just cleaning room and herself up. All this time, she was thinking too.
Why?
Why aren't her performances so good anymore? Why can't he play like that a second time? How was that show different from the others?
And when someone knocked on the door again, she came to the most frightening conclusions.
- - -
Fuku Ogawa stood at the shōji door of one of the houses. He picked up the dishes earlier that day, before it started to get dark. He was a butcher by profession and a friend of yours privately, so after you asked him to deliver the food here, how could he refuse?
Exceptionally, you couldn't do it in person right now. Well, these things happen sometimes - you have plans, but something came up, something happened, and you have to get out of the routine once or twice.
Fuku knocked on the door again. He heard a murmur behind them and the sound of silent footsteps. For a moment he felt a cramp in the abdomen - the discomfort that occurs when something is wrong. A slight anxiety gently fills our mind and body like poison.
Before he could do anything, the door opened and he saw in it a young, beautiful, but also tired woman. She had long, black, damp hair and pale skin. He saw a slight bruise under her eyes pointing to heavy nights and a black kimono with floral embroidery on it - he recognized them because you bought them a few days ago.
She looks surprised. It was certainly not him she expected to see outside the door, but there was nothing he could do about it. He introduced himself briefly and drew a bowl of food and jug of water towards her.
"Who are you?" she asked, ignoring the dishes in front of her. Instead, she grabbed the kimono with one hand and covered herself tightly. The other hand hung loosely, completely tucked into the sleeve.
"A friend," he said again short, hoping to get out of here as soon as possible. There was a slight, insipid smell coming out of the house, which he did not like and this woman make his hair stand on end.
"Could you take this inside?"
She asked and took a step back to let him come in. He didn't want to do it, he was uncomfortable with that woman, but he also didn't want her to accuse him of being rude.
He carefully entered without taking off his shoes and looked around the dark room. He didn't like the fact that there were no candles burning here and the only light that brightened a few meters in came from the full moon behind him.
"Put the dishes on the table."
He heard next to him. In the dim light on the other side of the room, he saw the outline of a low table and moved towards it, still holding the dishes in front of him.
But with every step he smelled a stronger scent in the house and heard the quiet buzz of insects. He knew it from somewhere, but couldn't tell from where.
Tap, tap, tap - her bare feet made on mats until she stood behind him. He could almost feel her heavier breathing on his neck and the smell of the perfume oils she used for her bath.
He was about to turn around and ask whether to bring some candles for her, if she didn’t have any (he just really wanted to get away from here as soon as possible, he wouldn’t come back here again for all the world) when a heavy object fell on his head.
In contrast, all turned white in front of his eyes from pain and he fell with a bang on a wooden piece of furniture, almost breaking it. The wood crackled silently in protest under his weight. The impact was so strong that he passed out almost immediately, but he was still barely conscious.
Then there was another and another. All he knew was what he got before he lost feeling and awareness of what was happening to him. With the remnants of consciousness, he finally knew what was the odor he smelled at home.
It was the smell of rotting meat.
- - -
Nakime kept hitting the man's head with a hammer until she got tired and left a bloody pulp. The remains of the man's hair and gray brain clung to her murder weapon, hand and also splashed on the zataku underneath.
She was trembling. Her breathing became heavier. She did it. Again.
She looked at the biwa standing on the other side of the room, illuminated by the light coming through the folded door. The strings in the cold light looked like silver thread of a spider. They lured her and summoned with their mute voices.
Now she has to go.
She must be in a hurry.
- - -
At night, you couldn't force yourself to show up at any place to have fun and relax a little. You didn't feel like it, even though some of your friends asked you to come.
They wanted to celebrate with you another big order to some remote place in the mountains. The locals were practically cut off from everyone else, which was perfect for you. Every month you were to send them three wagons with basic food and items - vegetables, flour, rice, spices, pasta, meat, materials and much more. You didn't ask where they got the money, it wasn't your part. What mattered was that they paid.
You liked to talk with them about a lot of things and eat with good music, but... you didn't want to. Why? You had your suspicions, even though you weren't entirely sure.
You've been up all night lying in your futon and flipping from side to side. Your head was still playing the tune of the biwa from a few days ago.
You felt thirsty in the desert. Like a drug addict in rehab. Like a believer who's starting to miss the presence of his God.
But what could you do when your only cure was gone?
Hours went by and you couldn't sleep. You couldn't think either, because your thoughts were filled with one person and their music.
You could've tried to run away until those feelings died off. Stop showing up in pubs, but how could you escape your own thoughts?
How could you hide from the part of you that loves her?
Loves her?
Yes, you could admit you admired her, but loves?
Surprised, you sat on the mattress and ran your hand over your face. You felt stupid. How old were you to fall in love like a naive teenager?
And yet the pleasant warmth inside you and the butterflies in your belly spoke for themselves. Even your friends noticed that you were different after that woman's performance. They teasing you for it, and you couldn't hide your red face or look them in the eye when you denied it.
Everyone thought she was new in town, but that wasn't true. You've noticed her long time before, because you liked her music, even if it wasn't outstanding.
You liked how she kept calm on stage and was always very restrained and elegant. If it weren't for her modest kimono, you'd think she belonged to the aristocracy.
You suppose that's when the feeling began to sprout inside you like a cherry blossom.
But when she showed up that night - terrified, haggard and wearing an old, torn kimono - all you wanted to do was go up to her and comfort her. Take her away from those eyes that surround her.
But then your eyes met and she started playing. She tugged the strings and as if at the touch of a magic wand all the stress and anxiety went away from her.
Then everyone else ceased to exist for you. You thought you and her were the only one in the room... No, in the whole Empire of Japan, or even in the whole world. It's just you and her.
Time stopped, and you could feel your heart beating with hers heavily breathe. Nothing else existed at that time - just you and her, and her music.
When she was done, the spell burst like a soap bubble. Suddenly other people appeared around you again and time went on its normal course.
Yes, it was then that the seed sown in your heart fully blossomed during that one song and gave birth to ripe fruit.
You listened to the rest of her performance breathless and with red cheeks, like she was playing just for you.
It was stupid to think so - she probably had no idea you existed, but there was nothing you could do about it. Everyone likes to dream and think they are special to someone.
So why should you be the exception? Besides, no one will know, it's just your thoughts anyway. Your own private place where you can hide when reality is too hard.
You opened the wooden shutters on a dark night. The moon was hidden far behind the clouds, and you couldn't even see the stars from here. In the background you could hear the quiet life of the insects and the sound of the wind running through the tall grasses.
She doesn't show up for some reason and she doesn't accept your presents.
When you gave her a kimono, you didn't mean to be rude or make it look like you felt pity for her. Same as when you brought her food. You really wanted to help her, but she was too proud.
You were worried about her.
You went out on the wooden engawa at the back of the house and sat down looking out over the meadows and the dark forest towers over the town.
If you wanted to, you could move to a bigger city. Maybe Osaka or Kobe? You could try your luck there. Open a new business of your own. Then maybe you could even afford an apartment in Tokyo? Or not, you don't think downtown would be a good place, it would be crowded. Maybe in one of its neighborhoods? Asakusa? Or Yoshiwara? You could meet a real Geisha or Oiran–...
"No, that's stupid." You scolded yourself in your thoughts. You'll act like a coward, and running away won't bring you anything, but a stain of pride and honor.
You'll keep thinking back here to her. Even if you leave, your heart will stay with her bleeding, because she won't even look at you.
The night was peaceful and quiet. The noise and singing of the wind dancing among tall grasses and branches of trees suppressed other sounds.
Your night passed slowly, looking at the full silver moon as it came out from behind the thick clouds.
Smelled like before the rain. Fuku would say, looking at a scene like this, it's going to be a tragedy. He's always been very superstitious.
But you were here alone.
The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?
You thought you heard her music from afar, but it was too quiet to be considered real.
- - -
The next morning, your friend find you in front of the house. Initially, you expected to see drunk Fuku, who liked to visit you at any time and was sometimes in a state of intoxication before noon.
Did he have some work today? He was a hedonist, but he was also responsible enough not to drink before job.
But no, it was Kiyoshi Hirano. A clerk. You invited him in and offered to make some tea.
"I just came to tell you that your friend with the biwa is back. You've been a little sad because of her lately..."
"What?" you turned to him with a clay jug. The movement was so fast that the right water poured out of the spout of the dish.
"Last night," he began slowly watching your face. "I was waiting for Fuku, where we used to meet to have a drink when she appeared on stage and started her performance again. She was... good. Looks like her lucky streak's back."
"Really? Do you think she will play tonight?"
You put the teapot in the cupboard where it was before, completely forgetting about the tea, and walked up to Kiyoshi again. You didn't notice his serious look and how closely he watched your brightened face.
"I don't know, I guess so. After all, it's what she does for a living." He interrupted your next question with a hand gesture. "I'm not going there today."
"Why?"
You were surprised by his cold reaction. He seemed angry or concerned about something.
"I'm going to check on Ogawa-san. I didn't see him yesterday and he still didn't show up today. From what I see, he's not here either."
"No, he's not here," you repeated deafly. "I haven't seen him since yesterday."
"Did he say something? What he was planning or where he was going?"
"No, I don't remember anything like that."
"Yhm. So nothing here for me. If you remember anything or see him, let me know."
"Something happened?"
"No, nothing. It's just my stupid hunch. But if I don't find him, I'll go to jitō."
Jitō was the deputy owner of the land on which your town was located. He was supposed to watch over his goods and peace, if a problem arose he had to solve it.
You just nodded at that. You didn't understand his concern about Fuku, you saw him yesterday, and he was fine.
"Okay, so be it. I hope to see you both at the show tonight."
"I hope so too."
He said grimly unconvinced and turned his back on you.
- - -
The orange sun had not yet hidden behind the horizon and you were already sitting in a local restaurant, at one of the tables closer to the stage.
People were elegantly dressed, some even more than was required stepping inside and taking their seats. It wasn’t a real okiya, so you didn’t quite understand their efforts to pretend to be better than they were, but you had no intention of pointing it out to them.
It was quiet. Conversations were conducted in a whisper. Glasses were not brought in toast. You could feel the tension in the air. Everyone seemed to be waiting for something. Or someone.
Finally, after a time that seemed to last an eternity. After the sun and its last rays resembling the hands of a drowning man reaching out for help disappeared from the sky, covered by the deep black of the great scape filled with millions of stars, she appeared.
She wasn't looking at anyone. She did not wander around the room with her eyes like a frightened doe. She just took her seat and started playing.
And the music itself was flowing from under her fingers. The sharp notes flooded their all minds.They could not think of anything else, everything outside was in the background. It was just her and them. Her audience.
After the performance was over, there was thunderous applause. Everyone wanted more and more. As we can see, she returned in grand style.
You also listened enchanted. You didn't care that Kiyoshi didn't join you all night. You didn't even notice it. The world outside this room no longer existed.
- - -
"I'm going to the jitō," Kiyoshi told you when you met him buying rice and asked him why he was dressed solemnly.
"Business?"
The man looked at you in surprise, tilting his head as if he wanted to ask if you were kidding.
"I told you I'd go there if I didn't find Ogawa-san anywhere. You haven't forgotten, have you?"
"Oh, no. Maybe a little. I'm sorry."
"Yes, I can see it," he squinted, looking at you critically.
"Have you been at his place to see him?"
"It was the first place I visited. I asked his neighbors if they had seen him, but no one has seen him since he left for work two days ago."
"Then I guess he's not at the slaughterhouse either."
"Exactly."
"Listen, why don't you wait one more day? We'll go to the jitō together if he's still gone. Perhaps he's lost his way back, because he is drunk again."
Although improbable, such situations have happened. One time he took the wrong directions and tried to get into someone's house. The landlord of the house beat him hard, and for a week he walked around with a swollen face and purple bruises all over his body. Another time, he fell asleep in a truck loaded with bags of rice and was driven kilometers from here.
Although Hirano was unconvinced, he accepted your offer and you spent the rest of the day together.
In the evening, you went to your favorite place to eat with music. You only managed to get in because you came earlier - soon after sunset there was such a crowd that no one else could enter.
You saw Kiyoshi looking for your friend, but he didn't even see anyone even remotely resembling him.
When your food were served, she went out on stage. As always, she moved gracefully and without unnecessary movements, as if she knew that part by heart.
The long black hair fell before her face like a funeral veil. She was still wearing a simple brown kimono, and you were a little disappointed that she dismissed your present with contempt.
She raised a pale hand with well-groomed nails holding a wooden bachi pick. The sleeve of the kimono slid down her arm, revealing more of her slender body and silky skin.
You almost fell back into that stunning trance hypnotized by her music when something discreetly pinched your thigh. It was Kiyoshi. He seemed worried.
Surprised at his behaviour, you raised your eyebrows didn't understand.
"Blood," he whispered. His mouth tightened into a line after he repeated it. "She's got blood on her clothes."
And when you looked at the musician you could see how under the kimono, where the collar around her neck covered part of the white hadajuban was a small red spot. If you had sat further away you would never have seen it.
"It could be anything. Maybe she got dirty?"
"Maybe," he admitted grinding his teeth and not taking his eyes off her. Focusing on a small, meaningless speck. "Or maybe not. It will be revealed. Remember, we still haven't found Fuku."
For the rest of the evening, he didn't speak to you, looking for your friend. You too could no longer focus on the music and let yourself be carried away by the pleasant atmosphere - the stain on her collar was bothering you.
What if someone attacked her? What if there's a dangerous animal in the area? Or a madman? What if something could happen to her?
Your restless thoughts rushed more and more as wild mounts were let loose into the increasingly unpleasant, dark recesses of your mind where irrational fear and unlikely scenarios ruled.
But you still haven't found Ogawa-san, have you?
True, but maybe he just got lost again. Maybe he's tired and sleeping at home now. Maybe it's all one big misunderstanding. Maybe the stain on her collar isn't blood.
Maybe.
- - -
The next day, as soon as the sun rose, you set off with Kiyoshi to Fuku's house. You wanted to be absolutely certain, and according to your comrade's supposition, he wasn't there.
Everything looked as usual. There was a bit of a mess inside, but it was nothing disturbing or new. Ogawa was not one of those who paid attention to where he lived.
The futon, instead of being tucked into a closet, lay on the side of the large room with a blanket rolled up into a ball, as if it had just wake up. Around the room stood many pots of sake, which he did not want to throw away, and other things that he probably used lately.
Yeah, it was a mess, but it wasn't unusual.
"Let's go ask the neighbors," you said quickly leaving the house and not looking at Kioshi.
He managed to stop you by grabbing you tightly by the shoulder.
"I already told you, I did it."
"So what now?"
"We can only go to the jitō and he will hire samurai to guard the security. I think that's all we can do."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, for now."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I want to know what happened to Fuku. They won't be looking for the missing." He paused for a moment, feeling his anger rising. "They'll just try to prevent more disappearances. They don't care abo–"
Suddenly he stopped before his voice broke completely and then you noticed how tightly he clenched his fists. As he tries to stop the tears in his eyes and not let them flow down his cheeks.
You... You didn't know he was in such pain. That he feels that way.
You felt guilty that you didn't care more about your friend's disappearance, that you didn't start looking for him right away. That the first person you were worried about when you heard about his disappearance wasn't him, but was someone else.
"Listen Kiyoshi," you started insecure. "I want to hel–"
"No." He cut you of. "You would only be in my way, I prefer to work alone."
"Oh... okey."
You agreed, but you were hurt that your friend wouldn't let you join his investigation and also didn't want to argue with him. He was smart, so you knew he could handle it.
"Ah, and one more thing."
He added before you left the house. That was the last time you saw him, but none of you knew it yet.
"Stay away from that woman. Please."
• • •
The man decided not to involve you knowing how distracted you've been lately. Because of that musician, you couldn't concentrate, and you missed a lot of obvious things.
He was no longer just talking about a bloodstain or a lack of concern about Ogawa.
Yesterday, following the woman from a safe distance (so she could not hear you), he noticed that she was not afraid to travel alone through a dark town or wooded area.
It turned out that she did not live in even on the outskirts of the city, but in a village about an hour away on foot.
She never turned around to see if anyone was following her, and that should be a natural reaction for anyone traveling alone in areas where disappearances occur. Especially women, who are inherently weaker than men.
Almost everyone is talking about the disappearance of Fuku - together with a local vet, he had to help assess whether the animal is suitable for curing or going for slaughter.
Local traders and meat farmers ask about him because he was the cheapest specialist in his trade.
If there were any rivers nearby they could be turned to fish, but within a radius of many kilometers there was none and the delivery could cost them a lot.
Sometimes local doctors needed his help when the only way to save their patients was to amputate a limb.
Did Fuku practice on dead animals for fun, or is the profession of butcher and doctor so similar? He didn't know, and he never wanted to ask.
So what could have happened before he disappeared? And how could a musician you love have anything to do with this?
Unlike Ogawa-san, he was not superstitious or relying on mere hunch, but when he looked at the dark-haired woman he saw cold sophistication in her eyes.
Why a woman traveling alone in the dark didn't fear an attack?
Did she have any weapons on her? Or did she know something that others don't? Maybe she knew she had nothing to fear.
Another thing that caught Kiyoshi's attention was the strange smell around her house.
After "walking" her home safely, he ordered to come closer. Kiyoshi wanted to investigate the source of the scent. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he was already determined to solve the mystery.
He knew that the more days passed, the chance of finding a friend alive dropped drastically. His mind said he was probably dead, but deep down he still hoped of finding him alive.
It's silly how emotions can affect a person's logical thinking and behavior, but there's nothing he can do about it.
After all, he was only human.
Standing in front of her door, he listened to all kinds of sounds from inside, but there was complete silence. The only thing disturbing it was the sound of buzzing wings of flying insects.
Something sat on his hand and automatically killed the bug. He couldn't see what it was, it was too dark for that, but the next one sat on his forehead and another flew past his ear.
Flies?
You tried, slightly confused by his prying behavior, to pull him away, but he just went to the back of the building where the smell intensified.
"Kiyoshi, please sto–"
"Shhhh, be quiet and help me."
"Wha–?"
"Don't talk, just stand against the wall."
He cut off the conversation quickly so the woman couldn't hear you two and showed you where to stand.
In the dim moonlight, he saw a triangular window under the roof. Because the houses in the village were not tall, he could look through them, but he still needed help to reach it.
"Look, I don't think–"
"Shhhh."
You stood straddle and folded your hands, so he could put his foot on it. Then, with a slight swaying, he jumped on your shoulders.
"But listen, I don't–"
"Shhh, ladders don't talk!"
Holding on to the old boards, he tried to find something he could hold on to. Any holes or roughness.
"Stop fidgeting!"
He rebuked you in a whisper almost falling.
"Then don't stand on my head!"
When he stopped wobbling, you grabbed his ankles harder and at his signal, you slowly began to straighten up. Unfortunately, he still didn't reach the window.
He couldn't even pull himself up because he was still missing quite a bit with his hands stretched forth.
"And what? Do you see anything?"
You asked, in disbelief. Did you just help your friend 'peep at' spy on a woman?
"I really don't like what we're doing. Are you listening?"
But Kiyoshi didn't listen. He was mentally preparing for what he was about to do.
He took a deep breath. Then another one, and curled his knees trying not to fall. If he fails, he'll break his leg or arm.
The moment he jumped up, you walked away from the building. He grabbed the edge of the window and the old wood under his weight crackled in protest - they sounded like they were about to break.
At first he wanted to curse you for it, but suddenly he heard footsteps coming from the other side.
You were too loud.
"Is anyone there?"
A harsh female voice spoke up and he froze. He heard you burst through the bushes surrounding the house, rushing to the nearby trees and she stopped just below him.
Time stopped for a man then. Seconds turned into centuries. Flies flying around him sat on his hands and face, tickling him by thier little legs as they walked on him and bit his bare skin.
To keep them from getting up to his nose, he hid his face in a long sleeve, praying that the wood would stand up and that she would not look up.
The black-haired, looking like a yokai in front of her house, stood there for a moment watching the backyard. Long grass could reach her hips - her husband didn't care much about anything but gambling and alcohol, and none of her neighbors ever had the idea of trying to cut down the plants before they became miniature version of the wilderness for rodents and other small animals.
She was sure she heard the conversation, and the tread in the grass clearly indicated someone was here.
Or was it just her imagination? Maybe she's going crazy? Is it possible the smell of carcass lured the predators?
Still, she should be more careful and dispose of the bodies.
When she finally got back inside, Kiyoshi's arms couldn't hold him longer and he let go. He managed to land on his feet, but he leaned back and fell out of the engava into the sticky mud, which with the thick and long grass cushioned the impact like a pillow.
Scared, that she might come back, he quickly hid under wooden porch to wouldn't get caught, but this time he probably didn't make so much noise, because she never showed up again that night.
Unfortunately, he couldn't pull himself up to look inside nad he wasn't even sure if the moonlight allowed him to see anything.
He liked to think of himself as a rational person and more intelligent than the common man based on his intuition, but the smell was too suspicious.
Maybe it's feelings, but he believed that if anyone could know anything about Ogawa's disappearance, it would be her.
He couldn't ask her directly. He'd just freak her out and she'd do something unpredictable. After all, a trapped animal is ready to do anything to survive.
• • •
The next afternoon, Kiyoshi left the house and instead of going to work, he went straight to the jitō that controlled the surrounding area.
He was a clerk, so his request might have meant more to him than to an ordinary farmer.
Personally, he didn't like Hiroto Sasaki.
He got this job only by acquaintance with the landowner and did the necessary minimum of his work - all the money from taxes (which he did not pay to the landowner) was spent on alcohol and courtesans. He often hosted parties for friends in his home and did not care about the problems of the inhabitants.
People often asked him to stand up for them because otherwise he wouldn't even let them in or send them back home.
Kioshi did not have time to take three steps from the gate when an older, stooped woman approached him (as fast as her rheumatism allowed).
She had grey hair tucked into a low bun and a face full of wrinkles showing how her life was filled with both, happiness and worry. Her hands were resting on a long stick that must have helped her on her way here.
"Hirano-sama?" She asked in a quiet voice full of sadness and her half-blind eyes were even sadder. She bowed slightly to him. The man bowed and asked what she had to do with him.
"You see... My son, Kai, went missing yesterday. I can't find him and he's my only support after my husband's death."
"I see, so what can I do?"
Although he asked, he already knew the answer and with even greater determination went to the jitō headquarters to solve the problem.
One of the servants, whom he had managed to meet during his few visits, led him to the back of the mansion.
There, a fat man dressed in gold and surrounded by comfort women, was eating sweets and fruits.
In the background on biwa played them a geisha, sitting under a cherry tree - delicate petals of flowers swirling around her added her femininity and grace.
Kiyoshi, however, shuddered when he saw her resemblance to Nakime from afar. He probably would never have thought that she looked like her up close, but he still hadn't snap out of after yesterday's close encounter with her.
He did not want to look at her, but the sounds constantly emitted by the instrument remind him, that she is there, not allowing to gather thoughts and relax tense muscles ready to fight or escape.
"What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy?"
Sasaki hated Hirano. He thought the clerk always poked his nose into his business and added jobs to him. He hated his visits, but his uncle (and the owner of the land he managed) ordered him to let him in because he had already met Kiyoshi by himself.
He said his remarks were accurate and he was able to listen to people. He thought he'd be a good right-hand man for Hiroto, but he knew he was doing better on his own.
The clerk refrained from roll his eyes hearing him and immediately told about the disappearances and pointed out, if the situation doesn't change, they could suspect either a wild dog attack or a serial killer in the area.
"And what do you think I can do about it?"
"Bring the samurai."
He answered without hesitation, instantly enraging the jitō. The fat man blushed so much with anger, he looked like a tomato.
The glass of saki he threw at Hirano luckily passed above his head and crashed somewhere on the rocks behind his back. All he felt was a few drops of alcohol drenching his clothes.
"What do you think you're proposing? Whose money?! Do you think I have no expenses?!"
"Maybe from the taxes we pay you?"
Only the quiet sound of the wind in the branches of the old trees answered him in their own language and the birds singing in them.
The geisha stopped playing as soon as the clay vessel was broken, but even the man, sitting on a chair resembling the emperor’s throne, fell silent.
The clerk, bent all the time, raised his head slightly to see how Hiroto calmed down and turned pale.
As he suspected - all the money went to his and his friends debauchery.
"If you don't think it's appropriate or unnecessary, I can always write a letter to–"
He couldn't finish because Sasaki came to his senses.
"No. There is no need for that. Starting tomorrow, I'll bring in someone to keep an eye on things."
Several times in the past, Kiyoshi threatened to write to his uncle, but it had to be a complete last resort, because he knew Hiroto would be willing to hire an assassin for him.
Not feeling completely satisfied, he had to agree and let go.
He would rather Sasaki did it today (since many samurai looking for new masters to serve recently), but he also knew that after spending all the money that idiot had to somehow get them now.
He could only hope that by tomorrow there would be some samurai in the area.
• • •
As the sun went down, Hirano was already watching the musician's house from afar. He waited for her to come out, so he could sneak in.
She went out to the perform practically every night, so Kiyoshi knew he should soon see her leaving the building and walking along the sandy road.
And an hour after sunset, a woman appears at the door and stands on a wooden engave looking around the neighborhood. Her eyes were scouring the yard like she was looking for something or waiting for someone.
With loose hair and a black kimono, she looked like a yokai demon.
But he didn't understand why she hadn't left yet. Did she know she was there?
No, it's not possible. He made sure he couldn't be seen by her.
So why?
Suddenly, incredibly brisk for a woman of her small stature, she took a large package wrapped in fabric and ran to the back of the house.
What could be in the package, which she was secretly trying to get rid of? She hid letters from her admirers from her jealous husband? She gave birth to an unwanted baby? Or maybe the murder weapon?
The clerk planned to approach there, but also preferred to wait until she went to work. He didn't want to get caught again, and he was afraid it might be a trap.
That she could watch the backyard from the window, and when she saw him, she'd attack him with something. Although Nakime was a woman, he preferred not to underestimate her, especially since their last meeting had completely frightened him.
So he waited.
And he waited all night.
However, she did not go out again and after sunrise - when farmers began to go out to look after animals and crops - he left.
• • •
During the day, Kiyoshi could no longer watch her - as an clerk he had his duties and had to be careful not to fall asleep.
But it wasn't an easy day for him.
Once he poured black ink from the inkpot, staining the sleeve of a silk kimono, and flooded the papers lying next to it. Or he also had to re-read documents a few times because he couldn't concentrate.
He felt completely exhausted, although he didn't feel that way coming here. Tiredness began to catch up with him.
He looked forward to the sunset indicates the end of his work. The steady sound of rain hitting wooden walls or ceramic tiles made him even more sleepy, and he hoped it would clear up by then.
And as soon as it changed from a sad, grey sky to a blood-red color, he immediately went out. There were large puddles everywhere and it still smelled of rain after a few hours, so he took one of the umbrellas with him.
He hoped that someone hired by the jitō would show up during the day to get a map of the area, but no one showed up.
Neither samurai nor any local villagers he would hire to save money.
As he walked, he could hear Fuku's disapproving voice in his head, who, looking at the sky, would say, "Someone good will die today, the sky and the gods are in mourning."
Many times then he looked at him with a sly smile trying not to taunt him after by quoting his grandmother, but now he misses his superstitions.
How much he would give to be able to sit with him and you on an engava and look up at the sky, drinking sake after work and celebrating the start of the day off.
He came to his home first. He wanted to change into darker clothes, so she couldn't see him.
He was hoping she'd leave the house tonight to perform. If not, he's gonna try to look around the back of the building to see what she's hiding.
Kiyosji looked at the unfolded futon, which he didn't hide. It looked so appealing that he lay down on it for a while - after all, she didn't come out with the sunset anyway. He still had time.
And with that thought - he fell asleep.
- - -
He woke up when it was completely dark. Afraid he was running late, he ran towards her house. If he showed up too late, he wouldn't know if she left.
The run didn't last long, he didn't like to practice. If it weren't for his limp stature, you probably never would have been able to hold him on your shoulders.
Intermittently, he switched once from running to marching and his wooden shoes loudly let the surrounding residents know that he was in a hurry. He was panting heavily, like a wounded animal and he could feel that he had fire in his lungs, but he would not stop.
At least until a black-dressed figure stood in his way.
Nakime walked slowly, holding her precious instrument in her hands. One of the sleeves completely concealed her hand, which surrounded the body of the instrument like a mother hugging a child.
Unbelieving (and feeling goose bumps on his sweaty body) he stopped to catch his breath.
The woman passing him did not even look at him.
He looked at her for a moment - she, as if feeling it, stopped and turned completely to face him. A distance of 20 meters separated them, but for him it was still too small.
They stood in silence waiting for any movement of the other person until they were interrupted by a man in armor.
Samurai.
"So this useless pig did something useful at least once." Thought kiyoshi
The man approached the musician and asked if everything was all right, looking suspiciously at Kiyoshi. He was not surprised, but he was still outraged.
She was a wolf in sheep's clothing.
She calmly replied him. Her voice was serious, but pleasing to the ear.
There was also an aversion to the samurai, who had to put on heavy armor just for the show - it was impractical if he came to chase someone lighter and would only slow him down.
After a while, each of them went their way - Nakime to the restaurant, he headed towards her house, and the man watched them.
He was probably making sure Kiyoshi didn't hurt her.
But that's good, because now he's sure he won't get attacked from behind and the house is empty.
Suddenly he realized he was more and more convinced of her guilt, although he had never approved of hasty judgments. He believed everyone was innocent until proven guilty in a court of law or evidence was found to point to the culprit.
Meanwhile, what did he have? Terrible smell coming out of her house and strange behavior. In the past, it wouldn't have been enough for him to pass judgment, but since Fuku's disappearance, his thinking has changed completely.
Standing in front of her house, Hirano stopped and began to listen. The only thing that could be heard from inside was the noise of a flock of flying flies on which the sound he trembled. He hated all kinds of insects, but he forced himself not to vomit or run away.
The odor's gotten worse since the last time he was here, and he had to put a long sleeve on his nose and mouth. He must have blocked it somehow.
It didn't help much.
He planned to get in and out quickly. The building wasn't big, so it couldn't have taken him long.
The door was not locked - probably the smell itself discouraged entering.
Inside, he left them open so the faint moonlight would illuminate this room. He saw the outline of a low table and two seat cushions. In the corner of the wall with the door, there was something white that he thought was bedding.
But in the current light, he couldn't recognize the huge stains on the tatami mats. He needed a candle.
Holding his breath from time to time, he searched the few cabinets inside and found some hidden next to a bag of rice along with a flint.
Satisfied that he managed so well, he started hitting stones against against each other and watched as the sparks light up the room for a moment until he managed to ignite the wick.
What he saw next made his heart stop and all the color drained from his face, making him look like a ghost. At the moment, although he was alone, he felt threatened and wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. He felt like a deer on a hunt.
Blood was everywhere. Dark stains covered the floor at the table, one pillow and led into the other room behind the shōji door.
On the table he saw overturned white sake glass, also stained with blood, and nearby there was a jug in which there was still some alcohol.
Feeling his body getting heavy he moved into the other room and when he reached out to open the door, he saw that he was trembling. There, the smell and the sound intensified like a warning not to go in.
He was afraid of what he'd see, but he had to...
With one quick move, he opened the door. It slammed and the smell hit him in the face with double force, pinching his eyes. Flies immediately sat on him, looking for something to eat, biting his exposed skin and drinking sweat.
There, in the middle of a small room, were two bodies. He saw the white larvae moving in what used to be the heads of the wretchs, and how far the rotten process had gone.
He couldn't hold out and threw up. It was too much for him. He had to get out. Now. Immediately.
But he didn't even have time to take a step because as soon as he turned around, the hammer hit him in the face, smashing his completely nose and knocking out his teeth.
Through the black spots appeared before his eyes, Kiyoshi saw a figure in front of him and then fell, when she hit him a second time, falling into the death chamber. He managed to block the blow with his hand and heard a loud crack of a broken branch.
He didn't think about it then, but that was the sound of his broken fingers. Because of the adrenaline, he couldn't feel it now.
Unfortunately, he didn't see anything else. The candle fell out of his hand and went out.
He felt a weight on his stomach as the woman sat on him and tried to hit him on the head again. He was still covering himself by his wounded arm and trying to get it off her somehow, but she was too heavy for him.
He hoped that someone would hear his scream and come to help him, because at every moment he weaken.
But no one came, and another body was found in Nakime's room. Now she's done her ritual and she is ready to perform.
- - -
The venue was buzzing of impatient voices. All the gathered people were looking forward to the arrival of their favorite musician, who rarely made herself time off. The long-haired woman hypnotized with her music, causing clients to come back for more.
Her fame quickly spread around the area and it became harder and harder to find a place inside. You had to come a few hours earlier to listen to her melody.
Because of this, some (those who never heard it and just wanted to eat) thought it was stupid. They didn't understand and called her audience fools.
And you were one of those fools. You're in front of the stage again, waiting for her to perform like a dog for a treat. Despite your most sincere attempts to stop or listen to your friend, you could not stop coming. She was like a drug.
Every time you've seen her, you've felt the butterflies in your belly start to dance inside and your mind becomes incredibly light, like when you're drunk with alcohol. But you didn't drink sake so you wouldn't be distracted and fully enjoy the performance.
But today she still hasn't shown up. People began to get impatient and the owner of the premises upset - thanks to her his income increased significantly and if she decided to change workplace meant problems for him.
Some of the guests left mad, and some started wondering out loud where she was. At some point, they started chanting her name, thinking it would make her suddenly show up.
You'd probably be the last person to leave this place and still wait a few more hours for her.
You missed her and her music during the day, waiting for the night to see her again.
But you didn't have to because she finally showed up.
She was wearing a black kimono that you once gave her, but something that caught your eye and prevented you from fully enjoying the performance was the numerous tearing of the material that you seemed to be the only one to see.
• • •
Nakime came home in the morning at her regular time. She was fine, both physically and emotionally, despite the scratches on her forearms and the bruises on her abdomen caused by that burglar. Even a not-so-pleasant meeting with a neighbor did not dampen her spirits.
An old woman called her attention to yesterday's noise and said she already thought her husband was dead. Until recently, quarrels and shouts in their home were standard fare.
It was supposed to be a joke, but she didn't even know how much of it was true. She also told musician to take care of the horrible smell coming out of her house.
She didn't care much about her as she was about yesterday's guest.
She did the right thing coming home. Meeting the samurai made her feel a little insecure and afraid of detection - killing someone outside meant more risk.
She wanted to go back and keep trying to dispose of the bodies. Although they made her nauseous, she found the willpower to cut them into pieces and wrapped in her previous kimono.
She finally appreciated the clothes you gave her because you can't see the blood stains on them. But she felt that if she came out on stage all covered in blood, no one would even notice - everyone was mesmerized by her music.
Sighing, she undressed and went to bed. Then maybe she'll try to get rid of the body parts again.
It was a tedious and difficult task. She had to do it in such a way that the origin of the meat could not be determined immediately.
But she was glad she took care of it because otherwise she wouldn't have found the footprints and other tracks behind her house suggesting an unwanted presence.
She was sure it was her night visitor, but who was the other person? Why didn't they come together?
A normal person would feel scared in a situation like this, but after tonight, Nakime felt invincible. The power she had and the impunity with each subsequent murder made her as drunk as alcohol. She became more and more confident and less cautious.
But she now fell asleep without fear.
- - -
Her work was interrupted by a knock on the door. Her fingers and wrist hurt from cutting hardened cartilage, and her knees from long kneeling.
She got up unstably and washed her hands in a bucket of cold water before she opened the door.
Is it that crazy old lady again? Anybody else in the neighborhood who's bothered by the smell? Maybe it's a samurai?
But it wasn't any of them.
That was you.
You stood insecurely, holding a package wrapped in brown paper in your hands. You didn't look her in the eye. Instead, you focused on the floor.
You took small, short breaths to somehow bear the stench from inside, but you did not make a face. You asked if you could come in and talk.
Nakime moved away from the door to let you in. She tried not to show it, but she was glad you came - she was shaking all over her body at the thought of smashing your head and going to perform again in the evening.
You stood in the middle of the room, and the setting sun lit the room for a moment until she quickly closed the door and darkness set in. She didn't have any open windows here.
"I know everything," you started before she had a chance to come up to you. She quietly took the hammer lying on the cabinet near the door.
"And on the one hand, I didn't want to believe it, I've been denying it all the time... But I can't do this anymore. It rips my heart between what I should do and..."
"What do you mean?" She asked, but she wasn't interested in your answer. She just want you to didn't turn around for a second.
Nakime was standing right behind you with a hammer ready to strike.
"You are the murderer, aren't you? You killed Fuku and Kiyoshi..."
Suddenly you turned around when she had her tool raised and made her hesitate. It gave you the precious second to grab her wrist and lowered it, asking her to talk for one more minute longer.
"I should turn you in, but I can't," you confessed. "I'm hurt by what you did and it will never stop, but for some reason I can't do anything against you."
Your voice broke. She was so close now, she saw you were on the verge of mental breakdowns.
"Please tell me what I should do. If you think it's best to kill me, do it and put an end to my torment."
For a moment she didn't know what to say. She felt she should end it with one punch, but instead she told you to leave.
She didn't like the new kind of arousal caused by your confession, the fluttering of her heart or how the blood came up to her cheeks. She felt she was getting a fever because of you. Her legs are even weaker than they were before.
"Then you'd better kill me," you said firmly, surprising her. "Because I can't live without you–your music."
You were too embarrassed by what you said, so you quickly added the first thing that came to your mind. You were hoping it was too dark to see your blush.
But she couldn't bring herself to lift the hammer anymore. When was the last time she felt that way? If ever it must have been a long time ago.
"Get as far away from here as you can," she began in an imperiously tone. "And come back exactly ten years from now, if you still feel the way you feel, you will come back here and I will play only for you."
And you left her with a bleeding heart after an indescribable loss. Nakime thought she was merciful to you, she condemned you to an even worse fate than if she had killed you - from now on you will carry her sins on your back, the betrayal of your friends and miss her for each of the 3 652 days.
Awareness of all this will not allow you to sleep peacefully. Her absence prevents you from eating and function normally. Losing your friends isolated you.
You never stayed anywhere longer after that, looking for your place and running away from that house at the same time.
She was both, your cure and curse.
- - -
You went to her show last one time and left the next morning with the first rays of sunshine.
Nakime put on another kimono, that you brought her - simple, black, because you noticed she doesn't like glamour and extravagance.
In the full light of the room, she could see how the events of the last few days had affected you. You were pale, lost weight and had big bags of sleeplessness under your eyes.
You looked like a shell of your former self.
It gave her the thought that now you belong to her - she will never leave your mind or heart and will be your only one. For the rest of your days, even though you're not together, she will haunt you in your life as a ghost of the past, when you awake and in your dream.
For some reason, she liked the power she had over you.
The melody of that day was very sentimental and passionate. The performance was definitely different and even better than usual. Some felt goosebumps and coldness during climax moments, and wiped away tears at the slower ones.
It wasn't just music meant to show her talent and entertain the audience - it had a message behind it. And everyone felt it.
It was her goodbye to you.
People talked about it for a long time after you left, hoping she'd do it again, but she never did. Her fame came as far as you ran away, haunting you and never letting you forget your sin of silence.
You pretended not to hear and didn't speak up when the subject of a genius musician was raised. All the venues, where the music played you avoided like the plague.
After you left, she felt like she lost something, looking at the table you used to always occupy. She also became even more ruthless in her actions, which led to her demise.
This one time she chose the wrong person, because he could not be called a human, and gave her a new life as a demon.
You, looking for relief after a few years, ended up with one of your clients. A platinum blonde with rainbow eyes greeted you with open arms after seeing your condition.
His closed community was located in a remote area in the mountains. People there like you were broken and destroyed by life or loved ones.
And what it meant to you, they've never heard of her or her music.
Honestly, it didn't surprise you that most of them were women, inherently weaker physically than men. They couldn't defend themselves, so they always had to run away and hope they'd be better off somewhere else.
Every time the Founder called you a "poor thing", you felt like you were getting goosebumps and when he looked at you with those sad eyes, you thought something was wrong. Like he's faking it.
But it used to be, because with your current state, you didn't care.
You felt a slight discomfort associated with the honor of eating in his private chamber, but he did not seem to care.
You didn't notice when you were talking that he doesn't eat anything from a table full of food prepared by his followers. All he did was push plates towards you to make sure you tried everything. And with his elbows on the table, he listened to you like you were telling a fairy tale. You didn't want to talk about her or your problems, so you told him where you were and what you saw.
With his chin resting on his hand with blue long claws nails and sleepy eyes, he listened to everything like enchanted and curious about you.
He, in order for you to stay, persuaded you to hand over your business to someone else and join the cult.
He argued that by your constant fatigue and lack of strength to handle it. He promised to improve your condition after you moved here - he praised the brisk mountain air, pure waters full of minerals and his connection with the gods, giving comfort to his followers.
You weren't convinced by the idea of being one of his followers, who loved his every move, so you got the role of his guest.
You lived with the rest of them in a big common room - the men and women (with children) had their own separate wings in the large building.
You had there your own responsibilities that weren't too heavy, because the Founder of the cult told you to focus on recovery.
And just like anyone else, you could leave whenever you wanted (in theory).
Many times during the talks he offered you the attainment of your own eternal paradise - explaining that it means a state of eternal peace and happiness, without any worry and pain. His ultimate mercy toward broken people.
The offer sound tempting, you had to admit it, but you had a promise to keep, and sinners like you have no place in paradise.
And now, you found yourself again in front of the same door as ten years ago.
Douma was slightly opposed to your departure, saying you were still unhealed and tried to convince you to stay, but you were adamant about it. He gave up after you promised you'd come back and maybe you'd finally accept his offer.
You had to find out if the last ten years of your life were in vain.
To meet her, you left Douma's cult five days earlier and spent the night at the inn, because you arrived a day too early (than you assumed) and you sold your house a long time ago.
The wood on the door started to splinter, but it was strong enough to withstand your knock.
For a moment you wondered if she was still there or had not been caught, until the door with the loud squeak of the old hinges opened itself.
Inside, you thought nothing had changed - only the smell had left. Where there used to be a second room (with the bodies) she was sitting with her biwa. Behind her was an impenetrable darkness as if there were no walls behind her.
After called her by her old surname (which you didn't even notice slipping out of your mouth) you didn't speak to each other anymore.
You were surprised she still had the same kimono you gave her. You know this, it was made especially for your order, because you could not find anything in her type.
As soon as you took your seat on the only pillow (like it's specially set up in front of her for you), she started playing, and you thought the last decade was just a bad dream.
You've both fallen into a trance by hypnotizing each other. So much has happened that she's forgotten your promise, and if you hadn't come, you'd be a relic of her past.
In the morning, before the sun had time to rise, you left with the feeling that you belonged to each other. She was the musician, and you were her audience.
But before you left for the next 29 days, she spoke to you only once to telling you to call her Nakime.
And with every full moon, you'd come back for more. She didn't invite you but you knew she'd be waiting for you and she knew you'd be back.
She never spoke to you, but you didn't mind. You both understood each other without words and your roles in the relationship.
Sometimes after her performance you felt happy, sometimes more depressed than usual which Douma noticed and always asked about. He seemed to care very much about his followers, so you believed it was a real concern.
As history has shown, you are sometimes very naive and blind.
After a long and tiring series of questions from him, you finally revealed the reason for your sudden departures and current changes in mood.
Once Nakime was ordered to bring in all 12 moons, but she had a problem. Douma, as always, had company in his audience chamber and could not move him, when people were close.
She waited patiently to bring him, when she heard you come in to inform him of your another trip. You wanted to do it when he had an audience so you could get out sooner, but unfortunately he was willing to discuss it with you.
"Oh, you're leaving so soon again? Ahh, I was about to call you. I'm soooo bored here alone. Are you sure I couldn't go with you? Please, I'm begging you."
The blonde asked you with a smile and folding his hands as his followers do in prayer, excited as if you'd already agreed. For some reason, you felt like he was putting more and more pressure on you as this time of the month came.
"Douma-sama, you have responsibilities, and I'll see you in a few days."
Sitting cross-legged on a big pillow, a man puffed up his cheeks like a baby. Sometimes you wonder how old he really is.
You refrained from sighing and running your hand over your face. To stop him from pleading further, you drew your last card against him.
"Besides, I thought you couldn't leave the building during the day. And I couldn't just travel at night, you know that, right?"
"Yes, but it'll take so long and you'll be sad again because of that woman."
He closed his eyes and leaning slightly forward started whining in the tone of a child stating the sad obvious.
Untli he suddenly straightened up as if a new energy had entered him and, clapping his hands, said pleased with his new idea.
"I know! It will be better if you stay here this month! Then you will not take a step backward in your treatment."
But you instantly frowned and clenched your fists. His insistence was slowly starting to get on your nerves.
The blonde, feeling as if he were on thin ice, became sad again and rested his chin on his hand. In the second, he was holding a golden fan.
You once had a chance to get a close look at it, during the affiliation of new members in his this same chamber. He covered half of his face with it after hearing another sad story.
After several times spent with him during this meetings (at his request) you noticed that although all the stories were always tragic, they also sound very similar.
You're surprised they didn't affect his psyche after all these years of listening to other people's problems and expecting them to solve them.
Although perhaps that was the reason for his sometimes childish behavior? When he needed to, he was able to remain serious, although most of the time he acted like an actor on stage - sometimes all too exaggeratedly.
Normally, he'd keep pushing you to stay until you escaped into the sunlight, but he's noticed you've become distant and inaccessible to him lately. This prompted him to rethink and change his tactics.
"I'd better go."
"Will you come back?"
"As always," you said, turning your back to him.
You were getting more and more tired of his personality. And it wasn't just you, Nakime listening to it was also running out of patience.
"My, my. You're really quickly trying to get away from me. Wait a minute longer. I have one more question."
You sighed.
After Nakime performances, you discovered that you are finally managed to sleep peacefully all night without the corpses of your friends blaming you for their deaths, and you waited impatiently for her. On the one hand, it gave you relief, and on the other, a sense of guilt.
You wish you were on your way already, but as a courtesy, you always came to let him know you were leaving and then you had to regret it.
"Yes, Douma-sama? What do you want to ask?"
You asked dryly, wanting just to get out. For some time, Douma seemed too interested in your travels and invited you to spend time together much more often. Even when you were too mentally exhausted and didn't accept the offer, he would come to you. He was literally like a little kid, who didn't understand the word "no."
The black-haired woman clenched her fingernails on the instrument until the wood crumbled a little. If she'd used a little more force, she'd have broken her biwa like a stick. The blue fingernails pierced the neck of the instrument, creating holes, but she didn't care about it now.
"What is she like? You never told me much about her."
"Is that all you want to know? After that, can I leave?"
"Of course," Douma said straightening up and putting his hand on his massive chest dressed in a red turtleneck with a black top. "I always keep my promises."
A man was looking at you with those peculiar rainbow eyes waiting for an answer. They were simultaneously alluring and dreadful. Everyone said they were his gift from the gods.
But like you, he also had his curse and it was those beautiful eyes. Maybe that's why blonde demon thought he was the only one, who understood you and what it was like, in his own twisted way, remembering his beginnings from time when he was human.
Knowing that it would be better to answer him (because you may later regret it by his insistence upon your return), you pondered for a moment.
What is Nakime like?
She was elegant, cold and cruel. Merciless. Yes, but you can't deny that you've noticed the silent acts of courtesy she made to you during your meetings. She was too proud to admit them out loud.
The interior of the house has somehow changed, the blood has disappeared and it is definitely warmer for you on cold nights.
Sometimes you seemed to sense a delicate scent of flowers, completely different from Douma - a strong, suffocating smell of lilies. And sometimes you seemed to sense something else underneath it on him.
She was above it all, but she was also...
"She's cute."
You said with such confidence, that the woman's face instantly turned red. Her heart beat faster and in her belly the long-sleeping butterflies woke up.
What did you do to her?
Douma unexpectedly laughed behind his hand. The joyful, spontaneous sound echoes through the walls of the spacious room making it even louder.
When he finished and did nothing more, you raised your eyebrows in silent question.
"Hm? Did something happen? You decided to stay?"
"No, I'm just wondering if that's it."
Douma smiled at you as if you were telling a joke.
"Just like I promised, you're free now." But before you disappearing completely from his sight, he added:
"And remember I can always give you eternal paradise if you ever decide. Then you'll never have to suffer again."
As soon as the shōji door with the painted lily on canvas closed behind you, he was moved to Infinite Castle.
Muzan asked them about their progress in the search for the Blue Spider Lily and their success in eliminating the Ubuyashiki clan, at the same time strongly criticizing and calling them useless. Sometimes he had to relieved his anger on them and somehow get them to work so they wouldn't get too lazy.
Some of the blood of the lower moons was spilled and some of the upper moons were reminded of their place in the hierarchy. Nothing new.
And when the meeting was over in a few strokes of the strings, she sent everyone back where they were. Except for one person.
Douma looked around in surprise wondering why he was not yet in Eternal Paradise in his chamber. As soon as he saw Nakime sitting in the distance, he stood up and waved to her.
"Oh, Biwa Lady, what's wrong? Are you bored too?"
Nakime ignored him and, squeezing the plectra tighter, said imperatively.
"Stay away from that human."
"Hmm?" He muttered, putting his finger to his cheek and tilting his head slightly, thinking for a moment. After that, the man asked carelessly.
"Which one? I have a bit too many of them to guess which one exactly you mean, hahaha."
Douma laughed innocently, pretending not to know what she meant, irritating her even more. If the bangs hadn't covered her face, he could have seen her veins pulsing furiously across her forehead.
As a final warning to him, she repeated this to him through clenched teeth.
"Leave. That. Human. Alone. And. Never. Bother. Again."
"Oh, you mean my friend?"
He tilted his head slightly and with a satisfied smile added.
"But your chosen one lives with me, how could I ever leave my dear friend alone in need?"
Blonde bowed his head slightly, wrinkled in fake worry thick eyebrows and crossed his arms. "Oh, my, my. You're putting me in a difficult position. Friends should help each other and besides..."
He looked at her half-closed, with a predatory smile, and said in a lowered voice. "I don't usually share with my food."
Suddenly Douma was crushed by a wall falling on him from above. When she released him, he looked like a moving mass of flesh and meat.
He recovered quickly as a upper second moon befits, laughing at the woman's reaction. If he wanted to, he could easily avoid it with his speed.
"Oh, my, my, hahaha, you really need it, you're a quite strong, but still too weak and little too slow, my dear."
Seeing that he raised his hand again, he added quickly.
"I'm sorry, sorry, I just bait you. I didn't know you cared so much about this one. If you'd explained it before, I'd understand."
"There is nothing to understand here. Don't elaborate. You're just supposed to stop."
The cult leader giggled again and with a friendly smile refused.
"You see, this is my friend, who came to me for help. Who would I be if I didn't help him get rid of the pain? After all, it's my job."
Before Nakime could pull the strings and hurt him again, he said:
"You're cute."
Imitating your voice and tone. He wasn't the best at it, but it worked well enough that she hesitated for a moment and almost dropped the instrument. Grasping the neck of the biwa again, she changed the acrod, and instead of cutting him vertically with a shōji door, she sent him back to his audience chamber.
It took less than a second, but Douma noticed it, and he was complacent. Although he did not consider himself a master of deduction, as demonstrated by his least fruitful search for the Blue Spider Lily of all the moons.
Who would have expected Biwa Lady to have feelings for human?
But she must have forgotten one thing, when she was ordering and trying to intimidate him, is that demons are very territorial and jealous of their food - especially the upper moons.
Nakime still had over 72 hours left until you arrived, and she started wondered during that time whether it would be better to just lock you up at Infinity Castle after all.
#request#nakime#kny demons#demon slayer characters#demon#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer kimetsu no yaiba#kny nakime#nakime x reader#tw insects#tw blood#tw eating people#tw possession
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I LOVED the works you do of kimetsu no yaiba,and if request are open can i make one? Bassically headcanons of tengen,kaigaku and obanai with a geisha reader,if you don't know what geishas are let me explain it to you:
Geishas are a class of female Japanese performing artists and entertainers trained in traditional Japanese performing arts styles, such as dance, music and singing, as well as being proficient conversationalists and hosts. Their distinct appearance is characterised by long, trailing kimono, traditional hairstyles and oshiroi make-up. Geisha entertain at parties known as ozashiki, often for the entertainment of wealthy clientele, as well as performing on stage and at festivals, they often are mistaken for oirans(prostitutes) for the western people due to the similarities of their makeup and kimono.
I hope this is not so Hard for you and remenber that your works are amazing!
Hello Anon ^^ Yes, we can do that 💓
I'm familiar with geishas as I played some games with my OC being one hihi but, thank you for putting specific deets about your req! I appreciate the research ☺️
Hmm however, you didn't put any specific scene for the headcanon. Perhaps I can just make this one like when they visit you and watch you perform ^^
𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽
𝑨 𝑺𝒖𝒓𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒆 𝑽𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐧 𝐔𝐳𝐮𝐢, 𝐎𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢 𝐈𝐠𝐮��𝐨, 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐤𝐮, & 𝐆𝐞��𝐬𝐡𝐚!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
Content Warnings: None ^^
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🌸𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐧 𝐔𝐳𝐮𝐢🌸
❥ You cannot deny how the mood at the party lights up more from your point of view whenever you see a familiar, flashy visitor stand out among the crowd.
❥ The man would watch you intensely with his fuschia orbs, observing the littlest of your actions. You knew how good he was with music and the arts when you once had the chance to talk to him.
❥ Whenever he visits, he makes sure to tell you how good you are at singing, saying he can "hear the flashiness in every note," which would make you blush furiously beneath the oshiroi on your face.
❥ Sometimes, Tengen would shoo away the people who were gathering around you, making sure that he could spend time with you. The man would never fail to lift your spirits.
❥ You're aware that the man already has three wives, but there are times that Tengen will just tell you that he wants to make you his fourth. Saying that you'll never regret it if you choose to do so.
❥ Tengen would shower you with lavish gifts. It's not that you ask that of him; he just wants to. New kimonos? Check! Expensive hair pins? Check! Gems? Check! Tengen would give it all even if you wouldn't tell him.
❥ The man would always tell you that there are flashier things than being married to art. He would always try to convince you to escape with him. But even if you would love to, you value your passion as much as you value your life. So then, Tengen would just always visit you.
❥ One night, you were awoken from your deep sleep when you felt someone touch your cheek. And when you opened your eyes, Tengen was there, staring at you with his glistening fuschia eyes.
❥ That's the first and last time that Tengen has sneaked into your room. As much as you wanted to ask how he managed to enter the place, you couldn't bring yourself to do so, as you just ended up adoring how beautiful this man is. Tengen plants a soft kiss on your forehead. Saying that you should continue loving art and devote yourself to it. He also adds that he's definitely proud of you, and he loves how flashy you are when you're on stage, as you make the stars jealous.
❥ Now, Tengen still pays you visits, adoring how wonderful you perform on stage. But then, with a blink of an eye, he would disappear in the crowd after flashing you his most flamboyant grin, showing you how happy he is with what you're doing.
🌸𝐎𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢 𝐈𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨🌸
❥ Even when you were still a maiko, you were always enchanted by this enigmatic ravenette clientelle who always appeared at the parties you performed at, watching you carefully with his yellow and turquiose eyes.
❥ And even now that you're one of the most beautiful and talented geishas in town, you can still see him around but have never had the chance to talk to him because lots of other clients want your company.
❥ But one time, you finally had the chance to talk with this enigmatic man. And heck, he isn't the conversationalist type. So you try your best to make him speak, wondering why he had bandages wrapped around his mouth in the first place.
❥ He would just shrug, but then hand you the most beautiful jade hair pin that you have ever received.
"Take that and tell me if you ever lost it." "Why?" "I'll buy you a new one."
❥ Even if Obanai had told you that, you still took care of the jade pin that he had given you.
❥ You know that Obanai is just supposed to watch you, but sometimes you will find your hands entwined with his under the table.
❥ You know that you can't be with this man even if you wanted to, as you have already chosen to devote your life to art and entertainment. Obanai isn't against that. He always made sure to tell you how much he adored you.
❥ He won't look at you when he praises you.
❥ But still, despite that, you would still choose his quiet and calm company over others. He makes you feel special.
❥ Obanai would never say it, but the man had always been watching you through Kaburamaru, keeping you safe from demons even if he had to give you special visits that you'd never know.
🌸𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐤𝐮🌸
❥ Kaigaku would always make his presence known at every party that you hosted and performed at. He would definitely make his way in front of the crowd to watch you perform your best.
❥ Your first meeting isn't as sweet as you had imagined, as he thought you were an oiran, which freaked you out. But then, moments after that, the man was content to clap for you in the crowd.
❥ Surely Kaigaku's not the sweetest one, but whenever he manages to get your attention from all of your clients, he will share his apple with you. You would love this small, sweet gesture, as this is one of the moments when he wouldn't appear too harsh.
❥ The man would never directly praise you; he's just too shy to do so.
❥ He'll tell you how your motions in dancing could make a great breathing style if you ever choose to become a demon slayer like him. Yes, Kaigaku wants you to turn back to being a geisha and join him as a demon slayer; for him, your life would be more meaningful there.
❥ You would never agree with him, saying that whatever your passion is, it matters as much as being happy.
❥ One night, Kaigaku visited the house that you belong to. He had brought you kimonos and told you that they would look good on you. But then, that's the last night that you have seen the demon slayer. Admit it or not, you miss him.
❥ Lately, whenever you slept, you would sense some presence but ignore it as you were too tired to think about it. But one night, you'll swear that you have seen Kaigaku beside you, whispering how much he misses you but can't be with you anymore.
❥ Without you ever knowing, Kaigaku's always there, watching you in secret, checking you at night as he can never visit your parties like before anymore or walk under the sun to meet you face-to-face ever again.
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𝑯𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒊𝒕!
I wanted to make it like Y/N leaves her passion for them buuuut I can't do it XD I just feel like if I was in her place, I wouldn't turn my back at being a geisha even if it's Uzui who'll ask me to do so (I freaking love the guy tho huhu) XD But that's just me lol
Anywaaaays, feel free to request anything! FIC-RELATED PLEASE HAHAHA
Alsoooo, hope you'll check out the new chapters of 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮. Sanemi's waiting for you there so you better hurry up!
Thank you again and ja ne~
~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸
#uzui x reader#uzui tengen x reader#uzui x y/n#uzui x you#tengen x reader#tengen x y/n#tengen x you#tengen uzui#uzui tengen#kny tengen#obanai x reader#obanai x you#obanai x y/n#obanai iguro#iguro x reader#iguro x y/n#kny obanai#kaigaku x reader#kaigaku x you#kaigaku x y/n#kaigaku headcanons#obanai headcanons#tengen headcanons#uzui headcanons#iguro headcanons#demon slayer x you#demon slayer x reader#demon slayer x y/n#demon slayer x female reader#kimetsu no yaiba headcanon
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Trolls Species Idea: Midtempo Trolls
Wanted to take a crack at making a sub-species of Troll, and I wanted to make a Troll kind that lived in space, so I picked Midtempo!!
Midtempo music is one of my favorite genres of music. The beats are inconsistent, freaky, the sounds used are uncommon and weird. It sounds like music you'd hear whilst on a space shop cruising through the galaxy.
Midtempo Trolls are massive Trolls that live in the ozone layer of the planet. Their ancestors, like all others, did exist on Earth and had their own string. But when the tribes separated, the Midtempo ancestors used their string to climb into the heavens, where their strange, unearthly music could be free (or so legend says)
More under the cut (warning it's LONG):
Midtempo Trolls are BIG. Like Vacationer or Mount Raggeon big. They basically swim through the ozone layer, kinda like a giant whale. Their fins on the sides of their bodies not only propell them through space, but it's the source of their music. When they "sing", their music eminates from their fins, and the patterns along the surface will shift and change to match the beat.
Midtempo trolls don't actually "speak" in the same way regular Trolls do. They don't have vocal chords like normal, so they communicate by projecting their voices into the minds of others. Their voices, like their music, is never consistent. They can sound masculine, feminine, young, old, like one person, or a thousand speaking at once. The only physical sounds they can make are roars and growls to ward off other Midtempo Trolls (they're very territorial) or call out to others using noises akin to a whale call (space whale haha lol).
When Midtempo Trolls feel threatened, mainly by other Midtempos trying to take their territory, they can basically "open" their faces to appear bigger. Their mouths can peel back nearly to their ears, with a small slit of skin to keep their jaws in place, and they'll open two extra sets of eyes.
(gave them two tongues too why idk)
Midtempo Trolls hardly ever come down to Earth. They feel a bit odd on Earth, since they're so much bigger than other Trolls. They speak much differently as well. Midtempo Trolls don't have a sense of singularity, so when they speak, they refer to themselves in a plural sense
Examples: "I don't understand" = "We don't understand" / "It belongs to me" = "It belongs to us"
Tho when they do, they do enjoy speaking to the earthly trolls, and learning of their cultures.
(Sketch of a Young JD shortly after he leaves meeting and speaking to a Midtempo Troll. He has tried on several occasions to convince people that space trolls exist. No one has yet to believe him)
A few examples of Midtempo music:
OKAY I think I'm done. Sorry this post is LONG AND RAMBLY but I'm just really excited to share this >v<
#dreamworks trolls#trolls band together#trolls world tour#trolls john dory#john dory trolls#myart#textpost#traditional art#trolls oc#midtempo trolls#trolls species#not sure how to tag this lol#plz ignore my shitty coloring skills jsbdhdb#Spotify
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Korra Gang X Geisha (LoK) Reader
Characters: Korra, Mako, Bolin and Asami Sato
Genre: Headcannons
Warnings: mentions of prostitution, Fluff, by Reader's profession, female pronouns will be used.
Geisha: Japanese girl who is dedicated to entertaining and keeping men company by dancing, singing, reciting poetry, serving tea, etc.; She is dressed in the traditional Japanese dress.
Korra
Most likely, she met you during Book 2, at the gathering in honor of Unalaq and the northern water tribe. Being a relatively important event there is also specialized entertainment, so you and some girls from your house were hired to make the meeting a little less tense. Korra found it endearing even if she had no idea what a Geisha was.
Sometime after the banquet, her curiosity got the better of hee and she decided to go ask you directly about it. You were shocked to say the least. The avatar was talking to you! So while the conversation and explanation flowed well, you were a constant nervous wreck.
As you explain them to Korra, her face lights up a bit more, it's interesting how something seemingly simple actually requires years of understanding, and she respects that a lot.
Suppose you stay in Republic City to independently improve your abilities, rest assured, Korra welcomes you with open arms and plenty of moral support.
Going straight to the dating stage, korra is someone who like I said not only supports your work but sees all the effort and training behind it, you're not smart but you can do things she could only dream of . play an instrument? do you dance? Poetry? DO YOU SING? DO YOU SING FOR HER?
a lot of emotion
Since she goes to important events from time to time, I think I would encourage you to go with her and promote your services, if you agree, she stays around to play it safe. You never know.
And if you decide not to, she'll probably talk about it a bit anyway (especially if the person she's talking to has money).
Now, in case someone gets confused with what you do (like the Oirán example) it is already there to prevent any advance, if it is something innocent (ignorance) it will only give a warning, but if it is an important physical advance, it will Sorry friend, say goodbye to your teeth.
Genuinely offended that someone could mistake you for something like that (no offense).
In short, she finds it very endearing and above all admirable, she respects hard work and you deserve all the respect (and love) in the world for her.
Asami
She goes to meetings often, so it is to be expected that there will be entertainment in those meetings, especially if it is about Barrik for example.
But was pleasantly surprised when you performed your act(dances), expecting something much more "Barrik" so it was a breath of fresh air.
Most likely she researches geishas after that and she becomes more interested in it, she wants to know more in a practical way. So she makes sure to subtly tell Barrik that Geisha training would be appropriate in the future, and he agrees.
The next few times you're hired for meetings, your main activity is striking up a conversation with Asami, and being both well-read and intelligent women, it's not difficult at all.
She's delighted with this, you're someone with above-the-average general knowledge, which makes her initial interest grow bigger and bigger the more times you see each other.
When they start a relationship, as I said, she investigates more about the profession and solves her doubts, maybe I asked you, but at the same time she wants to learn it herself.
She definitely enjoys her chats with you a lot, but if she chose another activity to do with you, it would be listening to you play the Shaimen, especially when she's stressed (Barrik's to blame in most cases).
I probably can't make it to all of your events, so I'd ask if you'd like to have something like a bodyguard in case my mother-in-law does something (including asking Bolin or Mako to be there for a while as a favor), and if you say no, it will want you to update it from time to time to be calm.
If it were to happen that someone mistakes you while she's around, she'll most likely glare at them before simply walking off with you. He doesn't tolerate that shit.
It is the best option if you want to take advantage of all your knowledge and artistic skills, she is your number one fan and in events your own personal guard.
Mako
You two met through Wu, obviously he was going to have expensive and extravagant entertainment, but to appear a bit more "sophisticated" he hired all the geisha in your house. It was a great opportunity that they could not pass up. .
Mako, being Mako, while he kept up with Wu, he stuck to the only entertainment that REALLY caught his eye. he has no idea what a Geisha is, but he definitely likes her acts a lot more than the ones Wu brought, and you catch on right away and make small talk to him(and later to Wu too, who by the way still doesn't pronounce "Geisha" appropriately).
From then on, Mako sticks like glue every time they go to an event, giving rise to their current relationship.
As you may have noticed, Mako finds it relaxing compared to all the acts Wu himself performs, it's much more entertaining for him at those times, whether it's a normal chat or just listening to some music (especially the Shaimen), even if is in a particularly good mood, he may join you in the dance.
If he didn't know what a Geisha was before, he didn't know what Oirán was, so the first few times you get mistaken for one, think it's part of a geisha hierarchy, other than you just ignore it. , then it does the same.
That is until a guest tries to get too close and the other geishas jump on him and practically kick him out, then they explain in more detail the work of a Geisha and an Oirán, he is left confused. Who would be stupid enough to confuse you like that? Really? The only thing they have in common is white makeup! Has no sense!
From then on,You better hopes to have Mako near he almost always, it's not because he thinks that you can't take care of yourself or that the other geisha can't, but understand, he cares a lot about you and he I don't want you to have a bad time for some idiot being brainless.
He still keeps some distance if you ask him, it's your job after all, he doesn't want to get you in trouble with your teacher.
He likes to see you prepare your makeup, the hairstyles you put on and thinks that Kimonos are much more complex than they seem (and HEAVY), he admires the dedication you give to your work, he compares it to what it is to be a detective for him (yes, that important).
In general, he respects your profession a lot and supports it 100%, just make sure you take care of yourself and that he is calm 👍 and if not, he Will kicks they ass it himself.
Bolin
I honestly believe that they met when you were still training to be a Geisha, he would be the only one who has known what it is for a long time, he asked you many questions. Why is your face so white? Do you even eat? Where are those clothes from? Where do you come from? Are you a princess or something like that (you look like one)? Would you be her friend? etc..
You couldn't spend a lot of time with him because the training is very demanding, but he was always very friendly with you, you didn't have to say no, so your few days off you and Bolin would go for a walk around republic city, just do things of your own. age, go to pro-bending tournaments, drink some tea, etc.
It really makes you feel better about yourself thanks to those little moments, obviously being a Geisha was what you wanted, but it wasn't easy.
Luckily Bolin is there to give you moral support! Once he tried to get into the Okiwa house to cheer you up and they kicked him out, he learned his lesson, don't worry.
When you're FINALLY an official Geisha, expect Bolin to celebrate with you as if it's an achievement for both of you, he knows full well how much that title means to you so he's so glad.
Unfortunately it also made your already limited free time even more scarce, you had to learn in the field, so you constantly went to parties and events that left you exhausted.
Luckily Bolin, although a bit sad, fully understood, you worked so hard for this and he doesn't want you to lose it because of him.
However, on some occasions you escape from homework and go to do things like see him in his pro-control training, which seems to give him a very high energy rush, if you can't attend, dream of asking them to turn on the radio to listen to the game and the next day you congratulate him for winning or console him for losing. Before you know it, their apparently platonic relationship turned romantic, they don't know how it happened, but I don't know what they're complaining about
As far as you work, Bolin is THE BEST about it, he can even learn how to do your makeup and thus 1. Spend more time together and 2. give you a hand, he even does some really nice hairdos.
If someone confuses you with an Oirán, he react SO OFFENDED (even more than you). Really upset about something like that, I mean, even HE sees the difference. Is it really that hard to understand that they are not the same thing?
He definitely loves dancing above all else, he joins you and they even give him a fan to match.
Best boy ever, both as a boyfriend and as an assistant for the functions.
#avatar: tlok#atla and tlok#tlok fanfic#the legend of korra#legend of korra x reader#korra#asami sato#tlok bolin
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Astro study
Geisha Asteroid nr 1047
Discovered 17, November 1924 and is approximately 11 kilometers in diameter.
The geisha are a class of female Japanese performing artists and entertainers trained in traditional Japanese performing arts styles, such as dance, music and singing, as well as being proficient conversationalists and hosts.
Geisha entertain at parties often for the entertainment of wealthy clientele, as well as performing on stage and at festivals.
In my opinion,represents:
- ability in conversation,
- capacity to attract wealthy partners,
- good skill in traditional japanese arts.
Some astrologers say it can be used for sexstrology, I am not sure because geisha were not prostitutes but multi skilled artist.
Lemme know if you are interested in a signs series about the asteroid.
#astrology tumblr#astro observations#astrology#asteroid astrology#sex astrology#love astrology#asteroids#astroblr#witchy#hellenic astrology
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