Make Me Better
Disclaimer: Bleach and all characters associated with it belong to Tite Kube. I'm borrowing his characters for the sake of fanservice.
A/N: Present day.
...
something of a prologue
Orihime learned from an early age to drown out the surrounding noise that, if given the opportunity, would suffocate her in its oppressive clutches like a vice.
'Poor girl.'
'Her parents-'
'Her brother is-'
It is –she would not say any less- bearable now in comparison to then.
Back then, there were these nameless faces smiling and vocally pitying her. Their gossip that began the moment Orihime turned her back to them like acidic honey dripping down from her ears. They only saw her situation, but talk as if they knew.
Now, now there are these pretty faces, painted white with their shiny oh so red lips. Their brightly colored mouths are upturned into false smiles, the red of their lips tempting, like the bright red berries on the tree near their house that her brother warned her never to eat.
They grin with friendly smiles while laughingly admonish her for her mistakes, her appearance, her history.
Orihime doesn't stall. She doesn't need to hide herself in a corner to relearn how to breathe.
Not like she used to.
Orihime can straighten her shoulders and listen to their whispers.
It's progress.
Six years of it.
These harpies, with a smile that could send a man to their doom, see her now, not that sad, so incredibly pitifully, sad Orihime and her brothe-
"Kaguya," Orihime mentally states to herself at night, a constant mantra. "My name is Kaguya."
They all have similar stories to her. At least, they would like to think so. Orihime allows them to gossip, keeping the conversation about herself to a minimum as long as it means she never has to tell about why she's in Las Noches in the first place. She's lets them pretend that she's one of them – that she's waiting, waiting for that somebody.
They all want more.
More pretty kimonos.
More bright hair pins.
More clients.
More money.
They need to show their worth to their 'sisters' and to the owner.
Clients equal food in their bowls after all.
Maybe that rich man who will tip her generously for a job well done.
Maybe – maybe even a prince.
Orihime rolls her eyes and continues on her way.
All the other girls are waiting for that prince or rich customer who will take them away from this life as a geisha.
Orihi-no, Kaguya has potential. She is under the tutelage of the second most favored geisha of the house.
Orihime doesn't need a prince.
Walking down the hall to the main hallway, Orihime tilts her head slightly to admire her reflection in the mirror. She is highly sought after due to her physical appearance, but also in the arts, which were so carefully hammered into her by her older sister.
She is a true lady.
Orihime constantly hears the gossip that certainly someone will buy her and allow her to live as a mistress to a rich man. They all aspire to be the trophy woman for a man who is not satisfied with his wife.
Orihime shakes her head at those dreams.
She doesn't need a prince.
She wants –
Orihime stops herself.
She doesn't allow herself to dream anymore.
It is a privilege that she lost a long time ago.
…
Biting into her rice ball, a ration of red bean paste carefully smeared in the middle, Orihime looks up to smile at her fellow maiko-sisters as they file into the once quiet common room. They're done with their latest training session with their older, more seasoned geisha-sisters. A few giggle, returning her grin. Some will return to their rooms to serve and potentially eat with older sisters in their private rooms. More likely than not, the majority will return after serving their sisters to partake of their own meal.
Orihime takes another bite, watching several of the maikos disappear into their respective rooms to attend to their sisters.
She has to eat quickly.
The other maikos gather around her. They gossip and chat amongst themselves – relieved that the day's training is over.
The shadows along the walkways are growing longer, signaling the quiet arrival of the evening. The night clients will be arriving from their jobs for entertainment. Nighttime is the busiest time of the day. All the geishas will be out, entertaining guests in their own specialized trades.
Orihime doesn't have to look up to notice that some of the smiles directed toward her are more sincere than others.
"Kaguya! I heard it was a busy day today!" One of the maiko's exclaimed – earnest and curious about her day's event.
She beams.
A compliment toward her older sister means the world to her. Praise to her mentor is also an indirect compliment toward her as her successor.
"Yes, it was! The client was very kind," her fingers twitch against her silky sleeve, "He even complimented me on my shimasen playing!"
Some smiles are roses with thorns so carefully concealed beneath soft, oh so soft petals of gossamer.
"Yo, rookie! How's the Ice Queen treating you?" Menoly sneers, her emerald eyes narrow as she walks closer to Orihime. Her hands are resting on her hips as she leans down, impatience flowing off her like a broken tap as she waits for an answer.
Orihime places her rice ball down. She looks up, her hair ornaments tinkling delicately from the suddenly movement, her grin –bright, like the sun- are anything but fragile. "I expect nothing less than what I deserve from my older sister."
SS: My knowledge of geishas is limited at best. Still, I try. This plotbunny has been bothering me for the longest. Anyway, comments and critique are always appreciated.