The moment she realized her life was in danger she ran. It was cowardly, but Anomie wasn't one to fight and she wasn't one to die. But cowardice didn't matter when the world's view is through the kaleidoscope of a courtesan.
Kakashi/OC
Story feature...
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THE DAY I BECAME A KAMURO OF THE NICHIJOU YUUKAKU HOUSE WAS THE DAY I realized that death was inevitable for a courtesan. It was an inescapable path, and it was my fate to die. Sakimono Haji held onto my hand and told me that I was going to be okay and that this Yūkaku house would be kind to me, unlike the other one that had no rules against underage prostitution. I had been told my time would be spent learning languages, pelted with fancy dresses, and the splendor of a noblewoman.
What a colorful lie. I realize that now, because at the right price, any honorable law can be broken without warning or care.
The day I had gone to Nichijou, I witnessed the aftermath of jealousy and love. If a courtesan is not careful, her life is worthless to fate.
The crowd of Oiran and Kamuro had gathered around a room where a ninja had slaughtered one of our sisters because she had given her body to those other than him. Then he paid a meager amount as apology to Nichijou and left as if he weren't a murderer and instead a man who had accidentally broken a toy. The owner of the Yūkaku house held no care and counted his coins with no concern to one broken toy.
When Sakimono Haji glanced my way, to make sure I wasn't afraid, he had become surprised that a mere child was laughing instead of crying.
I don't believe I thought the death was funny, but vengeful Oiran took my laughter as such and beat me that night until Ohashi forced them to stop.
"Why did you laugh?" She asked as she used a sponge to wipe away the blood from my lips. The Oiran had mostly avoided the face during the beating and hit my sides and stomach. The master of the house wouldn't take kindly to ruining what helps sell the product.
I didn't really know how to answer Ohashi's question, as her smile and touch had numbed me. "I thought it was funny." I decided to say instead, my fingers clenching together into my palms. My hands were small for an experienced Oiran, but they were nimble and longer than most ten year olds. My breasts had also already outgrown kimonos fit for children.
At ten years old, I had been touched more than a newly bled Oiran. They always said that to be beautiful was a blessing, but had I been unseemly, maybe I could have held my 'virtue' at least until I was 16. Perhaps people would see me more than just a pretty face, despoiled and for the taking.
Maybe that's why Ohashi took pity on me that night.
"You laugh at death," Ohashi asked, the ornaments woven into her hair shined in the moonlight, and her makeup was beginning to slightly smear. Her pipe rested next to her sitting body and I glanced at it, having never taken up the act of smoking.
"Not death..." I remember whispering it so softly that it was a wonder she heard me. "I just understand the world now...that's all. High-class whores are still toys. Do you not find that funny?"
