"Okaa-san! OKAA-SAN!!!" The frightened shriek of the young girl tore through the tranquillity of the Sunday morning like a katana tearing through the rice paper walls of the okiya.
Having just finished her morning bath, Hatsumomo, still wrapped into her oversized white towel, already dried her waist-length raven-black hair and lazily arranged it into a Western-style bun. She graciously seated herself at her small toilet table, richly inlaid with mother-of-pearl and lapis lazuli and started applying her day maquillage. After careful consideration she decided to keep it simple for the day, therefore, not bothering with powdering her face, she started to draw her eyes with a charcoal stick, eyebrows first.
She was just about halfway, when she heard the young girl crying. Startled by the sudden noise, she unwillingly shrugged and pricked into her eye with the charcoal stick. Cursing out loud in her home dialect, the somewhat singing speech of the far away Nagasaki area, and hoping Okaa-san wouldn't hear her she irritatedly smashed the stick at the table, red lacquer over wood, and washed out her eye, still wincing from pain.
Yaeko, the youngest soon-to-be maiko, had just been summoned by Okaa-san, who wished to have her morning tea while reading through the latest edition of Kyoto Shimbun. It wasn't as if there were any good news in the papers; half of the articled boasted about increasing industrial production, the other half wrote about recent developments in Manchuria, but for Okaa-san it was a daily ritual she would never miss.
So, Yaeko went down to the kitchen, made some tea and put the steaming teapot, a shallow tea bowl, a small, rectangular linen cloth and two of Okaa-san's favourite chocolate bonbons on a small silver tray. Climbing the stairs back to Okaa-san's room, she suddenly heard the other girl crying and, caught by surprise by the sound, she let go of the tray.
Okaa-san was patiently waiting for Yaeko's return. She lit a cigarette, while settling herself behind her desk. Some would gladly throw a stone at her for her Western habits, but no one, even her enemies could say she wasn't good at what she was doing. The okiya was prospering, Hamamoto was earning a small fortune at every ozashiki she was attending – and being the most sought after geiko in the hanamachi she was attending a lot of them. Moreover, Okaa-san would have two more maiko apprentices, Yaeko and Chiyo very soon and, while their schooling would cost a fortune, it would certainly pay off very soon after their debut.
Hearing Chiyo's cry from upstairs, the bedroom the two apprentices shared, she slowly rose from her chair and, massaging her aching hip – the cold winter of 1933 certainly did no good to her rheumatism – took the stairs to the second floor.
Carefully sliding the fusuma, Okaa-san entered the bedroom and with one swift glance accessed the situation. Chiyo was sitting on her tatami in seiza, burying her face in her hands, sobbing silently. Hearing the noise, she raised her tearstained face and greeted Okaa-san, deeply bowing in front of her. It wasn't too common for Okaa-san to show any sign of affection towards anyone, but, seeing her confusion, the eldely woman managed a small smile.
"Stand up, Chiyo-kun," she said in a low, warm voice. "What has happened? Why were you crying?"
Chiyo obeyed, but her eyes were still pinpointed at the tatami at her feet. "Okaa-san, I'm dying," she whispered.
At first, the matron thought she'd heard it wrong. Then, Chiyo repeated it again, and pointed at the front of her dark blue nightgown.
"I'm so frightened, Okaa-san. I'm bleeding to death. I apologize for staining the mattress, Okaa-san, I will clean it in an instant." She bowed again in shame.
Only now did the matron see the red blood stains on the front of her nightgown and on the white bedcloth and she understood while the girl was so frightened. She went up to the girl and put an index finger under her chin, forcing her to look into her eyes.
"Chiyo-kun, you're not dying," she assured her with a simple sentence. Chiyo, however, did not understand.
"But how, Okaa-san? Look, I'm losing blood. I... I've been bleeding the whole night!" she stuttered, clearly in confusion, and suddenly bent in two as a sudden wave of pain hit her lower abdomen.
Okaa-san drew her closer, into an one-armed hug, with another hand brushing the girl's unruly after the night's sleep hair.
"Yaeko!" she cried out suddenly.
"Hai, Okaa-san," Yaeko answered promptly. "Now she will be angry with me, maybe even punish me for having broken that cup," she thought as she bowed to the matron. Okaa-san turned around and observed the girl for a short while.
"Yaeko-kun," she said in a softer voice. "leave the tea for now. Never mind the cup, it was only a cheap Tenmon copy. I want you to make a bath for Chiyo-kun and add some lavender oil to the water."
"In an instant, Okaa-san," the relieved girl breathed out and reached for Chiyo's hand.
"Go, Chiyo-kun, I will be shortly with you," nodded the elderly woman, making a somewhat impatient gesture with her hand, shooing the girls out of the room.
Ten minutes later, a somewhat calmer Chiyo was soaking in the hot bath, closing her eyes. The cramps were still there, but the soothing, relaxing effect of the warm water did good to her, so she just enjoyed herself for a while, the sharp scent of lavender tickling her nostrils.
Opening her eyes, she was surprised to see a genuinely smiling Okaa-san above her. While this sight, for some unexplainable reason, pleased her enormously, seeing the smirking Hatsumomo leaning carelessly against the doorframe filled her with a growing feeling of discomfort.
Okaa-san dismissed Yaeko, and, taking the soap in her own, wrinkled hand, started washing Chiyo herself. The startled girl couldn't understand the reason of this sudden affection from the sometimes draconic matron.
Understanding the unspoken question, the elderly woman spoke in a soft voice.
"You know, Chiyo-chan, bleeding and pain is quite normal for a woman." Chiyo could not miss the change in the way how the matron was addressing her. Calling her chan meant a sort of endearment, something she hadn't received from anyone during her two years in the okiya. Closing her eyes again, she enjoyed the ritmical movements of the matron massaging her head, and she was very pleased to find out that her cramps had been reduced to a minimum.
"When a young girl bleeds for the very first time, she makes the first unstable step on her way towards becoming a woman," Okaa-san went on in a hypnotic voice. "We bleed each lunar cycle, as our own cycle comes to an end. We bleed when we sell our mizuage and our virginity is taken. We bleed, when we give birth to a child, to reincarnate a soul again."
Emitting a loud "Hah", Hatsumomo took a careless bite of the apple she was holding. "It seems to me, that Mama-san is especially interested in the second point, isn't that so?"
The matron turned her head towards the beautiful geiko and her eyes sparkled with badly disguised anger. Hatsumomo, however, went on, as if she hadn't seen her. "You know, Chiyo-chan," she stressed the diminutive in an ironic tone, "Mama-san is really eager to sell your mizuage, the sooner, the better. She's really protective about her investments. Because this is what we all are, investments to her, until that point. From that moment onwards, we, geikos are the milking cow. We pay for the upkeeping of the okiya, we pay for the food and the clothing of everybody, who lives here, even for the expensive French cigarettes and Belgian bonbons Mama-san likes so much..." she finished in a mock sweet voice.
Okaa-san went red with anger. "May the Thundergods be merciful to you for your venomous tongue, Hatsumomo-san! Why would you want to spoil such an innocent child with those talks?"
Hatsumomo made an impatient gesture as is she was shooing away a fly and turned around without a word. Looking back at the girl, she shot a "you will see" glance at Chiyo, and, swaying her hips, left the two alone.
Okaa-san sighed, while resuming washing Chiyo's hair. "I hate to admit, Chiyo-chan, that she's right. To a certain extent. However, today's not about her." Pouring clean water on the girl's head, she rinsed her locks from the soap. "So, we are ready. Go get dried, Chiyo-chan."
She helped the girl get out of the bath and held out a clean towel which Chiyo gladly accepted. Brushing herself dry, she examined her childish body for a while in the man-height mirror hanging on walls. She was looking for any signs, any changes from yesterday, which would signal her becoming a woman, but she couldn't find one. Still naked, she took a gracious bow and with unsteady movements started to dance the first steps of the Spring dance as she saw from Hatsumomo once.
Seeing her dance, the old woman plucked away a tear. She reminded her of a child, a baby girl she'd had once, she'd lost once. Rummaging in the cupboard, she pulled a carton box only God knew from which drawer and silently handed it over to Chiyo.
"Arigato gozaimashita, Okaa-sama," thanked the girl politely, bowing her deeply. Opening the box, she couldn't suppress a surprised cry. In the box was a kimono, still too big for her, made from thick silk, worn, but it was a real kimono and it was all hers! Pink of colour, it had sakura leaves and flowers embroidered into the fabric.
"Here, Chiyo-chan, let me help," offered the matron, smiling at the girl's excitement. With her experienced hands, she put the kimono on her, tying the obi into an intricate pattern. When she, finally, was satisfied with her work, she held the girl away at arm's length.
"Look at yourself, Chiyo-chan, you are as beautiful as the blossoming sakura tree," she smiled, pushing the girl back in front of the mirror.
Chiyo was speechless. She examined her reflection again, still unaware whether or not it was a dream. Caressing the fabric, her eyes rested at the intricate ornament and when she reased them again, Okaa-san saw them laughing, the first time in two years.
"Thank you, Okaa-sama," the girl suddenly hugged her to herself, and, standing on her toes, gave a quick peck on the matron's cheek. Flushing red from this sudden outburst of emotions, she then ran out of the bathroom without a word.
The wind chose this same moment to touch the sakura standing in the inner yard with its cold breeze and the pink petals started to fall, slowly covering the ground around the tree. There she was, Chiyo, the young girl, dancing around the tree, and her cackling laughter rode the wind.
"Look, Mama-san, I'm a sakura as well! I'm a beautiful sakura!"
"Hai, ichiban utsukushii sakura-wo desu..." she whispered, pressing her crinkled forehead against the cold glass as she was watching the happily singing child dancing under the pink snow.
Indeed, you are the most beautiful sakura...