The Lost Flower of the Hidden Leaf (WIP - On Hiatus)

Chapter Four; Weakness

It was still early. The morning sun had barely risen over the Hidden Leaf, its orange and yellow rays slowly devouring the remnants of the night. Katana, too, felt as if she was about ready to get devoured. The life of a geisha was not the one she had chosen for herself. Yet, it was the one she now had to make her own. 

Maybe it won't be so bad, she thought. Could have been worse, I guess. I could have... Dammit, why can't I think of something worse than following in Kitiara's footsteps?

Katana groaned and threw the cover off. She slipped out of bed, seeing no point in just lying there for another hour after a restless night of tossing and turning, and examined her limited wardrobe. Now that she was a maiko, her closet would soon fill with expensive clothing and the very best silk kimonos. But until then, she could still have the simple green dresses she made herself.
Each girl in the okiya learned how to make and mend their own clothing. For the servants, this was simply part of their duty. However, for maiko and geisha, it was a skill necessary in their craft. Quick alterations were sometimes needed when something got torn or cut during a fight, or when missions came back to back and they did not have time to return to the okiya. It was one of the very few lessons Katana enjoyed. There was something peaceful about focusing on a needle and thread. 

She wondered if she would be allowed to wear other colors now. As the sword was her primary weapon, Katana could only wear green (albeit in various shades) combined with white, gray, or black. Archers wore red, knife fighters blue, and staff-wielders yellow. Geisha were supposed to use every single weapon with equal grace and fluency, and without fault, of course, but there would always be one they specialized in. 
The three years Katana spent dressed in gray were the most depressing of her life. Had it not been for Sasuke's mother keeping some clothes for her to change into when she came over, she was certain she would have become as miserable as all the others. Some girls gave up and died quickly, either during a training exercise or by their own hand. Those who survived became empty, propelled into a singular direction, and forced to flow with the callous current of their ill fate. 

As she got dressed, Katana couldn't help but think about the one girl in the okiya she had looked up to. Even as a maiko, Yuna dressed in kimonos with the most vibrant shades of scarlet, making her a blooming petal on the reddest rose. But roses have thorns, and Yuna returned to the okiya with a very different shade of red on her beautiful clothes more than once. It still seemed incredible that someone who had been so deadly herself met her end before she even became a true geisha. And at the hands of the same monster who hurt Sasuke...

I'll find you, Itachi. I'll make you pay for what you did to her. And to him. Especially to him. 

Katana pinned her hair up and then made her way out of the dormitory she shared with three other girls, all younger, and thrust into the same life she was. Silence reigned over the okiya. The servants like Kagami wouldn't rise for another thirty minutes, and Kitiara always slept in. She called it her prerogative as a geisha. Lazy is what everyone else called it. The only one Katana could run into was...

"Mameha."

The head of the okiya glanced back from where she stood at the kitchen counter. Even early in the morning and after just waking up, Mameha's appearance never failed to take one's breath away. With her black hair plaited back, her simple yet elegant make-up already done beautifully, and dressed in a baby-blue gown with violet flowers along the sleeves and hemlines, Mameha seemed more like a noblewoman than a geisha. But then, that was the whole point of it. 

"Do not stand there gawking, child. Come in."

Katana lingered a moment in the doorway. She wasn't often alone with Mameha, but she supposed there was no dodging that now.