A/N: I decided that it would be best to clarify some terms beforehand.

*Oiran: a high-class prostitute. (They are not the same thing as a Geisha)

*Datehyogo: the traditional hairstyle Oiran's wear

*Kamuro: servant child

*Kagemajaya: male prostitution house

Chapter 1: Tamaki, the Oiran

Rain patters onto the soil. One drop sends waves of ripples throughout the muddy puddles. A child lies on the ground with its ear pressed to the floor, listening to the beat of the rain. Its eyes are fixed onto a dirty puddle.

Red lashes lower to a close. The lights up from the second to the third floors of Edo's shops and homes are no longer visible.

The rain beats the earth even harder now as it gushes down from thick dark clouds. The tiny body curls up, trying to garner warmth on this lonely evening. Its thin arms reach up to shield its head from the rain.

A couple runs by, both of them holding an umbrella together. The puddle they dash through splashes and soaks the trembling child wet, as if it wasn't even drenched enough already. Not once do they even bother to look at the thing lying on the ground. For all they know, it's probably already dead. Someone will eventually toss the body away or skin it down to its bones and grind it up into medicine.

Those red lashes pry open again and the child rolls flat onto its back. Murky and grim is the unforgiving sky. It shuts its eyes, surrendering completely, and waits for the end.

Footsteps approach. They're soft and delicate, not rushed at all.

"That is the best death pose I've seen so far. A wise man faces his death. A foolish man turns his back to death and runs away. In the end, the foolish man dies shocked that death caught him."

The child does not stir and the rain continuously pounds on its body.

"But you are yet to be a man. You're just a child."

Eyes flash open. The child sits upright, spotting a woman with blue hair ornately styled into a datehyogo standing in front of him. Gold ornaments decorate her hair. She shifts the papery red umbrella to her other hand and extends a hand to the child.

"This world is cruel. You must fight to live. And to do that, you need status."

Her milky-white hand brushes over damp red locks. She curls the red tips around a slender finger. "I could not bear to see such a beauty go to waste. I could use a girl like you. Come with me and you will live."

She retracts her hand, standing upright with all the grace in the world. There is no welcoming smile on her face. The only look on her face dwells within those clear blue eyes. It is a look of confidence.

The child staggers onto its feet, knees wobbling from the endless hours of sitting in the rain. Red hair tumbles to its fullest length, down to the shoulders. It croaks out, "What would an Oiran like you want from a nobody like me?"

"All I want is your service. In return, you will have a place to go to. You will have a home."

Home. Home?

Seeing that pondering look on the child's face, the Oiran reassures, "Yes. Your home will be my home."

Round eyes squint to get a better look at the pretty stranger. Mud sticks to the side of its face. "You've mistaken me for a girl, Oiran."

She flashes him a knowing smile. "I don't see a boy…unless you'd like to show me the boy."

Suddenly, a rush of heat shoots up to his face. He becomes flustered but also confused and curious. Tearing his eyes away from the Oiran, he mutters with embarrassment, "You're really weird, Oiran."

"You know, I do have a na-"

"Tamaki-san!" a worried voice interrupts. "Tamaki-san! Where are you?"

The woman sighs, glancing down the street. "It appears my time has come. Make your choice, little girl."

The boy grumbles under his breath. "I'm not a little girl."

Rushed footsteps hurry in their direction. Tamaki, the Oiran, smiles expectantly as the rain drops tick by. A newfound pressure weighs on the child's shoulders. After years of traveling alone in this cruel world, he knows when a chance has come. This is an opportunity- nonetheless, an odd one.

"Ah! Tamaki-san, there you are!" a servant calls out with relief.

Tamaki turns to leave, saying quietly without a glance in his direction, "If you wish to serve me, follow me. If not, you are on your own."

"Tamaki-san," the servant pants, skidding to a stop. "Please don't leave without telling us. You know Sanada-san will get worried."

"I apologize. Something caught my eye and I got carried away."

The servant rubs the back of her neck, inwardly surprised. Even the beautiful Tamaki gets absorbed in sightseeing.

As they walk down the street, the servant frowns. She glances at Tamaki and casts a look over her shoulder. After a bite on her bottom lip and the twiddling of her fingers, she finally whispers, "Tamaki-san, I think we're being followed."

Calm and collected is Tamaki. The sleeves of her kimono are connected, hands linked together underneath. She stops, causing the rest of her followers to stop as well. There are several servants holding the ends of her kimono, making sure that it never once touches the dirty floor. Other servants carry umbrellas to shield the kimono.

The servant whispers to her again, "Perhaps I should scare it off?"

Tamaki shakes her head, unfurls her hand out from the sleeves and beckons the child to her. "She is not an 'it' anymore. I've decided to take her under my wing. Everyone, this is your new sister, Setsuna."

The servants are just as startled as Setsuna.

"W-when did Onee-sama pick another one?" one of the servants asks.

"Not that long ago. Now, come along, let us go back to the brothel. It is not befitting to talk in the rain."

0-0-0

Sanada Naoto stands on the third floor of his brothel, peering out the window with a content smile on his face. Down below, in the crowded streets, are two of his most treasurable goods: Tamaki, Edo's famous Oiran from the red light district, Teiko, and her apprentice.

The brothel owner observes the two of them carefully. Tamaki is dressed in a fancy kimono and her silky blue hair is styled into a datehyogo. Her hair takes the shape of a butterfly. The wings of her hairdo glitters as sunlight beams onto those gold ornaments sticking out.

Traveling behind the Oiran is an apprentice by the name of Setsuna.

Sanada leans against the window, thinking that if he had denied Tamaki's request to bring the child into the brothel, he would've never raked in so much customers. Although Setsuna couldn't take customers, people dropped by to get a look at her. Who would have thought that eight years ago this dazzling young woman was a muddy kid lying in the filthy streets of Edo?

Setsuna's red locks are also styled into an elaborate look. However, her hairdo doesn't outshine Tamaki's. She remains silent as Tamaki and the servants walk back to the brothel. When they arrive at the entrance, Sanada stands there with a congratulating smile. "Welcome back. How was the parade?"

"It was pleasant," Tamaki says, entering first.

Setsuna merely stands in front of the entrance, watching her senior disappear down the hallway. Sanada notices how fixed those red eyes are. They don't blink until Tamaki is completely out of sight.

He holds a hand out. "Come inside, Setsuna. The sun will burn your skin at this rate."

She finally blinks, snapping out of her daze, and enters. They stroll through the hallways, side by side, until Sanada casually says, "Two months from now, we'll be holding your ceremony, Setsuna. You'll finally become an oiran."

He laughs freely. "Gosh, eight years have passed by so fast. The customers always ask me to quicken your ceremony."

"Patience is a virtue," Setsuna simply says and Sanada nods at that.

"Yes, a virtue and an art. Not everyone possesses patience." He stares at the sixteen year old from the corners of his eyes. Her face is flawless, there's not a blemish on that fair skin. Long red lashes shield her crimson eyes. Though her lips are light pale pink, they form a solid line.

"Now, now, what's with the face?" Sanada asks, somewhat concerned. Even he too feared this day. "You're not excited to become an oiran?"

He glances at her hands, only to find them hidden inside the sleeves of her kimono. Could they possibly be clenched into fists right now? Or were they loose and relaxed?

Setsuna gazes at the garden courtyard they pass by. The Kamuros toil in the little flowerbeds, tainting their nails with soil. Her gaze sweeps back over to the older man as she says, "I do not fear becoming an oiran, Sanada-san."

He glances around, checking to see if there are any stray workers around, before he replies. "Tamaki and I fear that your secret will come to light, Setsuna."

If there was one thing Setsuna learned throughout her stay at the brothel, she learned that one must take pride in their work, no matter how bad it is deemed. "I will proudly become an oiran."

Sanada sighs, waving a hand. "Yes, yes, I know that, Setsuna. But when you become a full-fledged oiran and a customer makes it to the third stage, your secret is in much more danger."

Setsuna's back is straight. Her head is poised, chin leveled, and eyes unfaltering. "I understand, but as an oiran, I have the decision of whom I will interact with."

Suddenly, one of the shoji doors slides open with a slight rattling sound. Standing under the threshold is none other than Tamaki. She tilts her head, assessing her apprentice who does not budge.

Sanada sighs. "I thought I sensed something between you two. You may be radiant flowers to the public eye, but I am no fool. As of now, you two are like coiled snakes preparing to lunge at each other. Hissing and-"

Tamaki holds a hand up. There's a cool glaze to her stare. "Sanada-san, I respect you, but please save the descriptions for a later time. There are more pressing matters at hand here."

She stalks right over to Setsuna, who towers a few centimeters taller, and grips that angular chin. Firmly, she lowers Setsuna's face so their eyes are locked on one another's. Tamaki steely reminds, "Setsuna, you are right to say that oirans have the decision to choose who they interact with, but you are naïve."

The apprentice's bangs shade her eyes, making her bright red eyes drop a tone darker. Her eyes narrow, scrutinizing. She speaks with her eyes but doesn't dare to verbally challenge her senior.

Tamaki breaks out a cruel smile. "You wish to leave the brothel, Setsuna, but in able for you to do so, you must find yourself a rich customer who will pledge his allegiance to you. But how can you do that when you're so stingy and picky? Men would flee in disgust if they knew your true nature."

A slapping sound echoes. Tamaki's hand falls back to her side, limp. Setsuna steps back with her levitated hand. Her eyes are slightly wide, pupils dilating at the realization of how complicated this web is. And then, she walks off.

Tamaki smiles coldly, but the stinging pain reverberates in her hand.

Sanada sighs again and rubs his temple. Although Setsuna's presence in the brothel surely raked in customers and would definitely bring in more when she became an oiran, her existence as an oiran could bring the entire brothel to crumbles. He feared the day when a man discovered her true gender. Public shaming would fall upon Setsuna and perhaps her death would be by the hands of those who once adored her.

He couldn't help but worry for his own safety. He'd be branded as guilty because he was associated. It wasn't like he never thought this could happen, he knew it could happen. That was why he was so hesitant when Tamaki came back to the brothel on a rainy night with a muddy child beside her. When she disclosed the child's gender to him, he automatically told her that he would personally and safely ship the boy off to the Kagemajaya. But all Tamaki did was shake her head fervidly and request that the boy be disguised as a female.

Sanada frowns. He could still remember the reason why he gave into her. She said, "Sanada-san, look at me. I, too, am a male, but I am also Teiko's successful oiran. I promise you I will keep his secret safe."

After accepting her request, all he did was toss and turn in bed all night long. No matter how successful she was, he should have never let her have her way. Any rational person would have rejected her. A reasonable being would have weighed the future of his business and held it far more valuable than some street kid. But he didn't. He didn't deny Tamaki because, for once, she was actually charged up about something. In those usually blank eyes, there was a light- dim at first, but as time progressed, it became more visible. She smiled more often, even if it was shared with only a few. If closely looked at, one could detect the joy in her simple, everyday movements. Sanada would know, especially after all the years he spent watching her grow into the oiran she was today.

He shakes his head, clearing his mind of the past, and leans on the wall, resting his eyes upon Tamaki who has not moved at all. "What are you going to do now? He seems very set on becoming an oiran."

"I will respect his wishes."

Sanada rubs his eyes tiredly. "I really don't understand why you're so attached to him."

Tamaki places her hand on the shoji door, a distant smile on her lips. "Fate has given me one more chance and I will not fail again. Kagami-san will be arriving shortly. I must get ready. Have one of the girls see him to the room, will you, Sanada-san?"

Sanada scratches his head. "This one's awfully fond of you, Tamaki. To think he's already nearing the third stage, do you think he'll pledge his allegiance to you?"

She shrugs. "Depends. He has to have the money first."

The door slides shut and Sanada walks away, wondering how this man is capable of hiding his gender for so long.