I'll be completely honest when I say that this was an entirely unplanned, spur of the moment story. (*・∀・)/
Obvious references to Memoirs of a Geisha, but I swear the root of this fic isn't entirely from it.
For a young woman with a background such as herself, she shouldn't allot any sort of concern for the curiosity prancing about in her head.
Whatever purpose he may have, it was most probably identical to all the other males gathering around at her stage.
She would dance and entertain him, just like all the others—the manner of a learning maiko.
But what exactly placed that man on a different ground among the others was quite unexpected.
He greeted her with utter nonchalance; refusing to remove his attention on the cup of sake in his grasp when she would perform.
The gleam in his deep, red eyes was unenthusiastic contrary to her persevered, proper acknowledgement of him with her blue ones.
But as spiteful as his personality may seem to other hostesses, she couldn't look at him with a mixture of hate in her eyes.
When she glided gracefully with her fans, she was doing it for no one but a single person.
When she poured tea from an earthen pot, she would rather serve not a crowd but only him.
Because to Kagura, he was the only one who truly looked at her—the one who viewed her as something greater than an animate work of art or an outlet of men's fantasies.
So even though at several occasions, she itched to beat the daylights out of the silver haired man with all her might, she repressed such urges.
And he would come day by day, never failing to witness her allure people with her beauty but not once did they ever engage in conversations worthy enough to be considered as interacting.
Until one late evening out of the blue when the customers were already numbered.
"Gintoki" The quiet male relaxing in his seat casually said and welcomed a slide of alcohol in his throat.
"Huh?" What more could she be but surprised, to the point that all her elegance dropped to zero and answered him with a ridiculous expression on her face.
He regarded her with his usual dead look. "Really, is this the same girl who's been stealing the spotlight all this time?"
That was enough to make her irately clamp her lips together and futilely repose herself. "Insult the great me again and I'll kill you. I just didn't understand what you meant by 'Gintoki'."
"Definitely with a completely different woman. And, that's my name, Akare-san." It was the first time they had a little small talk with him calling her by her geisha name.
A being bound by fate mismatched with a heart yearning for freedom; that was what Kagura had.
How many times her dear Anego had reminded her of what was right and wrong was appearing blurrier and blurrier by each passing moment she spent with Gintoki.
Love was never a privilege for women like her, but still she longed.
But all her hopes were almost shattered when he'd stopped his regular visits, just as sudden as he had appeared.
And as expected, the array of 'I told you so' coming from the elder figures in her life was hiking in her gut, sickening her to no end.
It wasn't as if it was entirely unexpected though, she was aware of his duties as a samurai.
The impending war with the amanto would surely break free any time soon too.
When she fervidly refused to be put up for auction for her virginity, which would signify her completion as geisha, she wasn't looked upon kindly by many.
Still she insisted to wait, only to face the happiest and darkest of days without his presence in her life.
As she glided with her fans, she was faltering and struggling to make out his face.
As she poured tea from an earthen pot, she would burn her fingers and imagine him encouraging her in the odd way that he does.
Otae as her mentor could no longer bear to watch and the call to cease the disaster tugged at her after seeing the tears threatening to fall from the dismayed eyes of Kagura.
But before she could even make her move, a familiar voice out of nowhere had boomed and snapped Kagura out of her misery.
"You call yourself a geisha with an act like that? Rip their balls off and show 'em what you really got!"
"G-Gin-san?" Her voice was barely a hair above a whisper as her watery eyes widened with surprise.
She knew she would receive a heavy beating later on but she couldn't care less.
The wind felt peculiarly thick on her body as she kicked off her footwear and bolted to where she thought the voice had come from.
But when she slid open the front door; she was greeted with nothing more but the early whites of winter with Gintoki absent from sight.
When she dared to take a further step aiming to locate him, a tattered piece of cloth splayed on the ground almost tripped her.
She picked it up and quickly noted the blotches of blood staining its light color, but what mostly registered in her mind was to whom it belonged to.
"G-Gin-san…" It was the very headgear that the samurai would wear each time they met.
Her legs wobbled and descended as the realization finally settled upon her.
"Gin-san, Gin-san…I'm sorry." Kagura gripped the cloth at her chest while she quaked and sobbed.
Because it was then that she understood, that she wasn't the only one deprived of love.
A pair of contemplative, ruby eyes watched from a distance as she muttered her apologies and was soon, found by a worry-stricken Otae.
He then left, never to return with a sword out of its sheath prepared to defeat the amanto even if it would cost him his life.
I feel like you guys are wondering why I made Kagura's geisha name Akare. (ノ*゚ー゚)ノ Since I'm a bit lazy with making up a cooler name, I used her alias as the red curry ninja and ended up with Aka + kare (curry) and thus, Akare.
Maybe you guys are wondering why Kagura seems more...tame in this story but I suppose it comes with age. ( ̄▽ ̄) I made her slightly older in this, probably around 16-18.
