In the early weeks after Yoshiwara's sky opened, every single woman down there got a terrible sunburn.

Many of them hadn't seen sunlight in years. Luckily, Hinowa had gone around instructing women not to stare too long pretty early, but their delicate, too-white skin had been doomed from the moment they'd been rescued.

A few women tried wearing veils; others managed to find some kind of old, long-unused sunscreen in their makeup collections. Most, however, were flittering around unprotected, desperate to feel the new sunlight.

They all tried to cover their red, peeling faces with make-up, achieving varying degrees of success. All of them smiled and laughed expertly instead of wincing when a client pinched, slapped or scratched leaving harsh trails of burning pain across their damaged skin (that, at least, was nothing new.)

At some point, someone muttered something near Hinowa and Tsukoyo about "slowly phasing changes in" and "we can still close it sometimes, you know" only to face a wall of harsh glares from her entourage.

Hinowa smiled, serene, and spoke sweetly to them all. "Don't women always look their prettiest with a little red in their faces?"

Tsukoyo thoughfully puffed on her pipe. "Sure do. And if you've gotta get used to somethin', ya oughta do it fast rather than draw it out, right?"

Winter hit Yoshiwara hard during the first year. Hinowa had to raise the taxes she asked from each business in order to cart the growing drifts of snow to the surface. Yoshiwara's underground structure had not been built to be open in winter.

Before, the air cycled down from above had been warmed in huge heaters; anyone stepping into Yoshiwara in winter felt like they were walking in a warm spring day. After, the cold sunk in deep, descending into the metal floors and the thin-walled houses not built for winter.

The women dealt with cold far worse than they'd dealt with sunshine. No matter where you went, it was damp, freezing, and full of grumbling prostitutes. The women all had to make a choice: wear bulky, practical clothing over the skimpy kimonos that attracted the customers, spend some of their hard-earned money on a space heater, or freeze to death (or at least severe discomfort).

Hinowa, however, stayed in the cold every day, and anyone who might have come with suggestions about seasonal sky closings never managed to articulate them once they saw her face. Every day, she dealt with the daily business of running Yoshiwara beside the huge snow drifts gathered near the elevators, a smile that could break hearts never leaving her face as she watched Seita play.

One day, as she finished discussing security with Tsukoyo, she beckoned Seita over to impart some wisdom.

"You know, nothing makes a customer more grateful than coming in from the cold. Remember that; rather a few huge tippers than many bored, tight-fisted men."

Seita listened to her intently. Both women prayed, for a moment, that he would never learn to disbelieve such practiced actresses' optimism, where perhaps the good, nice, true world he saw of could stay real.

Tsukoyo nodded along as Hinowa spoke. "Oh, and they say cold makes a woman slimmer; that's all the men want, these days."

Winter had been tough, but it was sunshine and daisies compared to when the rains hit.

The complicated drain system built into the ceiling for rainy days was useless. The city above drained into Yoshiwara in a huge, muddy river as the skies dropped endless buckets of rain on a city without gutters on its houses or drains in its streets.

All the expensive silks and makeups had to be locked away in the top floors of Yoshiwara; the only way to travel were the shaky walkways built from roof to roof, or the ferries that had been built to traverse the flooded streets.

Only the most devoted or lonely customers came down to Yoshiwara then, and that was generally only to have their favourite girl welcome them in a plain cotton shift with an "Oh, I'm so saaad, my favourite client is here and yet I have to go bail out the first floor. Come back soon, okay? Pweeeeaaase?"

Hinowa could barely travel to deal with the endless daily problems, confined in her chair.

One night, as Tsukoyo half wheeled, half carried her over a shoddy walkway between rooftops, Hinowa said out loud what a lot of the women had started to whisper.

"Does it need to be open all the time? Someone could get hurt… everyone's working so hard…"

Tsukoyo thought over her answer carefully, trying to find words with deeper meanings about symbols, and hope, and white-haired men, before finding something to say. "I heard that cold mud baths are the big new beauty thing up in Edo. All our women are lookin' so nice now."

Hinowa laughed delicately. "Oh, you are right, Tsukoyo. And maybe… ummm…well… they say flowers can only blossom when well watered, you know."

After almost a year of scraping and saving, as they approached the anniversary of Yoshiwara's opening, the new Yoshiwaran collective managed to collect enough money to hire a major construction firm.

After a night of drinking, dancing and song with the company heads, where things like overheads and costs had become a little forgotten after talks about how executives could expect this special priviledge or this little bonus or, oh my, even that one, but only with the really flexible girls.

Hinowa managed to negotiate down to a shockingly low quote, delicately speaking to the company head while six other women served, danced, and lounged around him.

"Oh," she said, "and we would really like this finished as fast as possible."

The executive hiccupped, and then tried to look pensive while staring down Hinowa's kimono. "Let's see… heating, insulation, plumbing and drainage network… I'd say six months minimum, with that roof closed."

"And if we were to leave it open?"

"Ah? Then at least nine months. Up to a year, maybe."

Hinowa smiled prettily, and then nodded to the scarred woman leaning against the wall nearby.

"Well, it would be nice to have the workers around for longer; with our women's charms, they'd give us more then we paid them." She said cheerfully.

Tsukoyo replied, thinking deeply, "And o' course, a job done slower is a job done better, that's what they say."