DISCLAIMER- I claim no ownership to Bleach.

This work of fiction is not meant to accurately depict the geisha lifestyle.


I grew up with the salt of the sea in my hair and sand between my fingers. My parents died almost as soon as I reached my eighth birthday, leaving me with wind and rain as my only companions. I stole, swindled, and lied to survive. I lived in rags, stalking the streets like a stray dog for well over a year, until the early spring brought the blossom of more than the sakura tree.

With experience, my confidence grew. I had identified the house as being occupied by two women. One appeared to be my age, with her elder sister being no more than a decade older. It would be an easy target.

When the women left, going to the market, I presumed, I landed my strike. I was fast, moving with adrenaline-fueled feet and seasoned hands. I found my reward, a small bag of rice and a basket of vegetables and eggs. Perfect. As I examined the fruits of my labors, an unexpected strike to the back of my head brought me to my knees.

"And what do you think you're doing?" she roared. Her older sister hadn't been far behind, jogging to evaluate the situation. The girl turned to her sister, pointing at my pain-stunned body with a thick branch.

"Hisana! I caught him!" The older woman rose a concerned hand to her mouth. "He tried to get away with a week's worth of food! Should I end him?" she asked, raising her weapon.

Hisana had merely took hold of her sister's beating weapon. "It is not our place to punish, Rukia," she scolded lightly, taking the branch and tossing it off to the side. Rukia turned to retaliate. In the confusion, I had scrambled to my feet..

..Only to be stopped after a single step.

"That does not make you free to go," Hisana said with a laugh, taking a handful of my wild red hair. She rolled the strands in her fingers, inspecting the knotted locks.

"Red. You have a lot of fire in you, don't you?" she asked. I didn't respond, choosing instead to stare her down. She'd have to let me go some time.

Instead of freeing me, she knelt down to my level, her yukata tucked delicately underneath her legs. "Answer me only one question. Why did you do this?"

"Why do you think?" I snapped. "'Cuz I'm fuckin' hungry!"

Rukia looked scandalized. Hisana's expression remained unchanged. "Poor thing." She released my hair, but I remained still. "You do not deserve such a life. How would you like to join us for tonight's meal?" she asked. Rukia's jaw dropped.

"That's two questions," I grumbled, attempting to hide the surprise and eagerness in my eyes, and the grumbling in my stomach. She smiled softly, reaching into the basket of food, contents strewn about the sandy soil, and handed me a carrot. She stood as I ravished the vegetable like a dog tears through meat, and motioned for her sister. The two retired into the house, with Rukia looking over her shoulder at me as she closed the door.

Everything in me told me to run. They had left the basket. Only a few eggs had cracked. I could run, and eat well for several days. But something in me nagged at me to stay.

That night, I stood at their door, the basket in hand. I'd hesitated for several minutes, unable to bring myself to knock. Buckets of water in her hands, Rukia made her way up from the back of the house, and dropped them in surprise when she saw me, fearing me to be some criminal.

"Oh, it's just you," she breathed. The spilled water soaked through her slippers, and she stepped carefully out of it. "Look at what you made me do!" She snatched the basket out of my hands. "If you are going to live here, you are going to have to do chores!" she snapped, shoving the buckets one by one into my hands. "And you can start by fetching the water from the well!"

Anger swelled up in my belly. "Who said I wanted to live here?" I roared, stepping close to her. "You stink like fish!" She smacked me. I tackled her to the ground.

Hearing the commotion, Hisana ran out into the yard. "Children!" she scolded. We both paused, guilt in our eyes. We scrambled apart, smoothing our clothing. She laughed as she shook her head. "Rukia. Inside."

Rukia bowed her head and went inside, basket of food in-hand. I didn't look at the woman who had been nothing but kind to me. She said nothing in return, but grabbed my hand and led me inside the house.

"What is your name?" Rukia asked as I, guided by Hisana, knelt across from her at the table.

"Renji," I stated plainly. "Can we eat?"


Hisana held me as a tenant in her home for two years. I played at Rukia's side for hours. We became inseparable, with Hisana often unable to differentiate between Rukia's pranks and my brand of mischief. I told Rukia everything, from the themes of my bizarre dreams, to the secrets I kept hidden from the world. She was my best friend, the only one with enough sympathy to let me cry, and humor to match mine.

While I had grown tall, with sustained work building my muscles, Hisana had grown small, weak, and frail. When asked, neither Hisana nor Rukia would offer an explanation.

I carried firewood to her one harsh autumn night, and she smiled appreciatively, looking up from the embroidering she busied herself with for only a moment. I turned to leave, but was stopped by the harsh, almost demonic, sound coming from behind me. I had mistaken it for a pack of wolves, stalking behind the house.. until I realized that it wasn't barking, but coughing coming from the delicate woman seated on the floor before me. Blood dripped down her mouth, covering her yukata and ruining the sewing in her lap.

"Hisana," I started, running to her side. I slid on my knees, ignoring the scraping and splintering against the tatami mat. A blood-stained hand cut me off.

"Please, Renji. Do not worry Rukia with this. It will pass," she promised with a smile. "Please, may I change?" Her voice was as sweet as ever, though I detected some panic.

"Yeah," I said softly, backing out of the room to give her privacy.

Winter came, and Hisana was unable to hide her illness any longer. She spent day and night in bed. Rukia and I had taken over the daily chores, with my brute strength and Rukia's keen intellect making us formidable trading partners at the market. In the early stages, we offered the most nutritious, delicious foods to Hisana, which she always accepted with grace. As she grew weaker, she could stomach only rice and the most mild fish we could obtain. My eyes met Rukia's, which were brimming with tears. I took her hand as she excused herself, only to have it ripped from my grasp.


In hindsight, I couldn't have known that spring morning would be my last waking in a familiar bed. Hisana was strong enough to walk, and she had wanted to go outside to see the new cherry blossoms. I held her arm as Rukia held a parasol above her head.

"I'm so sorry that the blooming of the sakura tree is so short," she said slowly. She raised her hand, fingers brushing a branch. "Renji, Rukia.. I'm so sorry that our time together has been so short."

I stopped in front of a particularly magnificent tree. The wind picked up, raining petals over us.

"Uh-uh. No talk of dyin'," I scorned. She smiled.

"Of course not. You two need to be taken care of," she said, poking my nose. "Just promise me that you'll always be there for each other. No matter what happens."

I blushed as Rukia looked to me. "Don't be stupid," I laughed. "It's no fun botherin' you by myself."

Some visitors from the city had come to Hisana that night, one with strange orange hair and a strange accent. They pushed us aside like vermin. While they conferred with Hisana, Rukia and I crouched behind the thin rice-paper door.

"They are both eleven," she had stated. "Is that too old?"

"Not at all. It's perfect," one had said, his voice calm.

"And.. he said.. he told you that they will have a good life?" The sob was barely contained. I looked at Rukia with alarm in my eyes. She paid me no mind.

"The best. Luxury awaits them." I saw only shadows cast on the door as Hisana put her head in her hands, and nodded vigorously.

"Do it quickly. For me."

Without any warning, the door snapped open. One of the men grabbed my arm and tugged, leading me to the entrance. The other man put his hand on Rukia's back, pushing her to my side. The two of us looked back, realization and unadulterated panic in our eyes as we saw Hisana sitting up in bed with tears running down her face.

"Let me go!" I roared, fighting against the man holding me, only to have his arms tighten around me. Rukia's kicking and screaming was equally fruitless, with the large man picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder.

"Don't fight," Hisana begged. "I'm so sorry," she said, barely audible. I bit into my captor's shoulder buying myself only a few moments while he recovered.

"You bitch!" I screamed. "You sold us like fucking livestock! Rot in hell!" Rukia's fight paused in shock. Hisana's sobs grew more violent, and guilt racked me as I was slammed against the hard wood of the wall.


By the time I awoke, the tiny house by the beach was long behind us. Rukia and I were seated beside one another on some huge, quickly moving metal carriage. With a glance out the window, the world passed by in an instant. I was fascinated, and the two men in front of me laughed at my gawking.

"Your first time on a train?" The man who had held me captive addressed me, voice friendly. I refused to answer, the smile sliding off of my face.

"No need to be so grumpy. You were going to hurt yourself," he stated gently. "Look. I get it. I've been doin' this long enough to know how rough it is on you kids."

"And what exactly are you doing?" Rukia demanded. "Where's my sister?" she asked, voice harsh and raw from crying.

"I'm taking you to a pretty little place called the Seireitei Hanamachi," he answered. "Your sister is staying behind." It was a practiced response. Rukia's knees drew up, and she buried her face. I reached out, rubbing her back as soothingly as I could while glaring daggers into that orange-haired bastard's eyes.

I didn't sleep for the rest of the train ride, though Rukia climbed into my seat to use me as a pillow. I held her while she slept, my gaze transfixed on the scenery. As the train slowed, my eyes darted to the orange haired man and his companion, who were standing and gathering bags. The orange-haired one handed the bags to his larger partner, and offered his hand to me.

"Wake her up. It's almost time to go."

Rukia had almost no time to awaken before her hand was taken by our captor. He held mine tight, as if it would discourage me from running. As we exited the train, he led us quickly to a waiting carriage. We were shoved into the tight space, with Rukia seated on the large man's lap. I was granted my own seat, but only because I had stepped on my captor's feet too many times to be considered an accident.

Oops.

Rukia and I were glued to the windows as we entered the city, charmed by the bright lights and decorations, the sounds of music and celebration. We'd never seen anything like it. Hisana would have loved it.

We came to a stop outside of a beautiful building, the gate and doors open. I gawked at the elaborate windows, the cheery, welcoming curtains on the door. As our captors led us to the door, they jerked us out of the entrance. A tall man, brown hair slicked back out of his face, brushed the curtain back with a long hand as he exited. I'd never seen someone dress like that.. his soft brown eyes were lined heavily in black. His black hakama were hidden under a long, impeccably white coat, trailing the ground behind him. His geta clacked on the cobblestones, barely masking the sound of a flint being struck on his back. As he passed, he looked down his nose at us, pushing his square glasses up with his index finger.

"Shinsou, you're slacking," he warned. Another man bent over behind him, lifting the tail of the brunette's coat off of the dirty ground. This one's hair was silver, falling evenly around his head. His face was painted white, with sharp red and black lines placed on his forehead, cheeks, and nose, reminiscent of a traditional kitsune mask. He was dressed in a black yukata, with a large, furred white obi. The knot fell behind him and wagged like a tail with the movement of his hips.

All of my attention was focused on the pair of attractive men exiting the building and climbing into a rickshaw parked behind the carriage we had ridden. I didn't notice when another man came to greet us until the orange-haired man shoved me in front of him.

"These are the kids from Rukongai," he stated.

I was convinced that this was a dream. This man stood before us, eyes and pale hair obscured by a wide-brimmed green and white striped hat. His clothes were dark green, covered by a knee-length black haori, the edge of which was decorated with white diamonds. His hakama only reached his mid-calf, even in the mild weather of early spring. He stood with the support of a cane, even though he didn't appear to be old enough to use it. A closed fan rested in his other hand.

"A boy and a girl," the strange man noted, speech relaxed. The fan snapped open and covered his mouth. "Ichigo. You know I have room only for one." My heart raced.

He circled us once. He spent maybe ten seconds looking at each of us before he took my upper arm and jerked me close to him. "I'll take this one. See if Yoruichi wants her."

It was automatic. I fought. I fought like hell, clawing at this strange bastard's arm, kicking his shins. "Rukia!" I screamed. She cried, reaching her hands out as the large man picked her up again, swiftly carrying her off to the carriage.

"Renji!" Her voice cracked as she cried out for me. I kicked harder, screamed louder, and threw punches. The strange man fell to his knees, bringing me down with him.

"Shh. Easy, baby. Easy," he whispered into my ear. I quickly realized that it would be futile to fight with his weight on me, and I watched, powerless, as my best friend, my only family, was carried away.

Once he was sure that I was done fighting, he rose to his feet and dusted his clothing off. "Well. Now that that's over," he said with a smile, taking my hand. He led me inside, and I would have gawked at my surroundings if I hadn't been blinded by rage.

"What did you do with Rukia?" I demanded. He seemed to pay me no mind.

"Welcome to the Tsuki no Ki Okiya," he purred, opening a closet. He pulled out a simple green robe and a pair of house slippers. "I'm your master, Kisuke Urahara," he stated jovially. As he tossed me the clothing, I threw them back at him.

"Fuck you, and answer my question. Where did that bastard take Rukia?" I asked. Still, no response.

"You're a unique one. Lots of fire. I see that in your hair and personality." He reached out, stroking my hair away from my face. I slapped him. He laughed.

"You're lucky I'm taking you in as a favor. I don't even really have room for you. You'll sleep with Izuru and Momo. They're your age. You'll make friends." He was teasing me. That bastard had the goddamned nerve to tease me?!

Two children my age peeked out from behind a door, waiting for an invitation. Urahara nodded, and the two rushed out, leading me quickly into another room. The door opened briefly to drop my clothing on the tatami mat. As I started to yell, they flopped on top of me.

"Shhh!" the girl hissed.

"Mr. Urahara doesn't use that cane to walk with! If you upset him, he'll hit you!" the boy whispered into my ear. As my flailing calmed, they took their hands away from my mouth and sat back. I sat up slowly, brushing my hair away from my face.

"My name is Momo," the girl said kindly. She was pretty, I had to admit, with wide, pleasant eyes and black hair tied back into a bun. The bun was covered by some kind of blue fabric, ribbons hanging loose and brushing against the back of her neck.

"I'm Izuru," the boy said, voice quiet. He was an anxious looking kid, blue eyes drooping and pale hair falling harshly into his face.

"Renji," I responded. "What is this place?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. Izuru stood, grabbing the clothes Mr. Urahara had laid out for me. He dropped them beside me.

"It's an okiya. Where Geisha live."

"Geisha?" My eyebrow raised. Momo and Izuru looked at each other.

"You know. Fancy clothes and makeup?" Izuru asked. I blinked.

"Like those weird guys who were leavin' earlier?" I asked. Momo smiled.

"Yeah! Like Aizen-Taichou and Ichimaru-Fukutaichou," Momo cried, clapping her hands together. I didn't even try to understand. I just nodded.

Izuru seemed to notice my confusion. "They entertain people. They get paid a lot, too. Aizen-Taichou ugets the title 'Taichou' because he's experienced. Ichimaru-Fukutaichou gets the title 'Fukutaichou' because he's still in training. Aizen-Taichou is training Ichimaru-Fukutaichou," he said, proud of his explanation. I wasn't going to lie- I'd stopped paying attention as soon as he started talking.

"So we're here to do what? Be fuckin' slaves?" Momo hushed my profanity.

"No, silly! We're here to work hard. If we work hard enough, and Mr. Urahara thinks we're worthy, we get to become geisha, like Aizen-Taichou!" Her smile was bright, just like Hisana's. Izuru pointed at the clothes.

"Get changed. We have a lot to get done." I crossed my arms.

"I like what I'm wearing."

"You can't just wear whatever you want!" Momo cried. "You have to identify as part of this okiya!"

I huffed. "I don't want to become a gei-whatever. I just want to go home."

"If you were brought here, it means your family doesn't want you anymore. Now come here!" Izuru grabbed at my obi, and untied my clothing. I fought with him, but he proved to be faster than me. I made it difficult for him as he dressed me, but paid for it in how tight he tied my obi. I gasped for breath and loosened the knot.

"Dammit, you're persistent." The full weight of Izuru's words weighed heavily on me. "...It really means that they don't want me?" I asked quietly. Izuru nodded.

"My parents are dead. The orphanage I was living in sold me to Mr. Urahara. Momo never gets letters from her dad." He reached his hand out to pet my shoulder.

"It's okay, though. We're really good friends now, and everyone here is really nice," Momo said with a smile. "Ichimaru-Fukutaichou is a little strange, though.." she trailed off.

"He is not!" Izuru defended. As they began to bicker, I felt something crush my chest. I brought my knees to my chin and hid my head in my hakama.. and I started to cry.

Izuru and Momo paused.

"It's OK," Momo said gently, rubbing my back. "I cried too. And so did Izuru."

"Only for a little while," Izuru defended, but took my hand anyway. "Are you hungry? Mr. Urahara bought us taiyaki for dinner. There are a few left. I can go get you one," he offered.

"What's taiyaki?" I asked, wiping my eyes and nose. Izuru smiled and stood, running out of the room. He returned moments later, holding a bowl of rice, a glass of milk, and a fish-shaped pastry. He placed the food before me.

"Hurry up. It's rude to eat in the bedroom," Momo said. I wasn't listening to her. I hadn't eaten at all since the morning I'd left Hisana's. I was starving. I devoured almost half of the rice before gulping down some milk and taking a small bite of the fish-shaped pancake that Izuru had presented me with.

My eyes widened.

Was this heaven?

I took in a mouthful, and looked at Izuru. He smiled.

"They're good, right?"

"Good? This is the best thing I've eaten! Ever!" Not that my diet had been full of variety. The taiyaki was gone well before I would have liked, so I occupied myself with the rice and milk.

"Y'know, I came here with my best friend," I muttered. "I dunno where she is." Momo and Izuru looked at one another.

"She could be at another okiya?" Momo suggested. "Mr. Urahara has a lot of friends. Maybe she's there?" It was clear that she was just trying to put me at ease. At least it was working. Realizing that I wasn't going to be much help, Izuru and Momo rolled out an extra bed for me, right between their's.

I climbed in as soon as they left, but that didn't mean I got much sleep. My mind was preoccupied. Thoughts of new friends.. thoughts of old.. I had to find Rukia, even if it was just long enough to make sure that she was alright.

When the last light turned off, well after Momo and Izuru were asleep, I finally let myself drift off.