Chapter 2: Walking on air

Though I go to you
ceaselessly along dream paths,
the sum of those trysts
is less than a single glimpse
granted in the waking world.

-- Ono no Komachi

Sweat trickled from his thick brows in continuous drops as he watched his opponent with intently, his eyes flickering at every fidget the extra-large figure took. It charged towards him vigorously while he stood with his back hunched motionless. He was confident that Togoin would do a left tackle. As it was nearing him, he swung his body backwards right and as quick as a cheetah, together with the agility of a shinobi, pulled the waistband underneath the over-lapping folds of fatty skins. With all his strength, he jerked it hard in a speedy motion. In response to his move, his opponent pivoted and fell to the wooden floor with a deafening thud.

From the back of the dohyo a loud and clear clapping filled the room. "Excellent Mitzukuni! Makoto you need more practice!"

Mitzukuni wiped the flowing sweat with great effort and bowed deeply.

"Remember success is not handed to you. You must work hard for it and never dishonor what is given to you."

Mitzukuni adjusted his mawashi belt, which was to be worn during practices; an honor to being promoted to an upper rank and bowed again. "Hai, Oyakata-sama".

He could barely contain his happiness. The sun beamed down steadily with a Midas touch, turning every corner of the dohyo golden and the wind and golden chrysanthemums were singing a merry duel; the dry rustling in a rhythmic beat. Life is good; he smiled, and ran a hand down his triangle knot, where his hair was folded over again with a tight

In 1932, at the age of twenty-two, he began a three-year winning streak of seventy two sumo-matches, more than any other sumo-wrestlers. It was such a feat that he himself had prided upon. The roaring applause after each win was the reward he yearned to obtain. He was glad that being a sekitori included the privilege of making hand-printed flags for his fans.

"I'm glad that the Sumo association promoted you after your win in Gion. At first, I wasn't sure, but well, nothing is certain. Life is unpredictable" Daishima gave Mitzukuni a hard pat on his shoulder with pride gleaming in his eyes. "You did us proud."

After a short while of slience, Daishima left leaving Mitzuni to enjoy the tranquility of the morning in the company of the stirring air and a little brown sparrow chirping in unsteady beat, trying hard to impress a non-existent audience. Life is good, yet unpredictable, he concluded firmly.

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The night in Pontocho district was alive with all forms of entertainment for both peasants and wealthier folks. There was hourly kabuki plays at the Heian Theater, buskers playing various instruments and the quaint shopping streets. People watched mesmerized at the craftmen as they caved kime kome dolls; painting their faces with powered seashell and masks; all hollow-eyed and powerful. These inanimate objects began taking a life of their own under skillful hands.

Haruhi lifted her heavy kimono and tried to walk as fast as she could in her chunky 3-inch Geta, her scarlet bottom lip pressed in a firm curve stripe as she maneuvered her way through the throngs of people. A few men in black suits accompanied by painted faces geisha tossed glances of admiration in her direction but Haruhi didn't return their smiles; she was too caught up in her thoughts. She ran through long narrow cobbled alleys, whispering dark secrets of the past and passed a few panpan girls in their low-cut fleece western dress, peep-hole stilettos and ironed curls tumbling down their curves with their customers. One of them flipped a half-smoked cigarette into the air, which was extinguished by the damp cement with a deflated hiss, like a newly released balloon. Fortunately, it landed next to Haruhi's left foot, barely missing her by an inch. She mentally recited a prayer in thanks that she remained unscathed. It would be unimaginable if Mother discovered a burnt hole in the new kimono that cost an exuberant four thousand yen.

Wheezing slightly from the nipping chills and the distance travelled from the previous teahouse she entertained in, Haruhi entered shijo-dori Avenue and went over the Bridge of Kamogawa River in little steps. Her arms tired from lifting the heavy silk of her kimono and her back sagged from the strained of the extravagant obi.

For the past five months, she had attended several parties, plays and house-visits to view flowers. She had been so busy she barely had time to breath. Despite merely being a Maiko now, she was high in demand everywhere. She smiled at the thought of men's head turning to look at her whenever she entered a room. Minimum wage workers in traditional worksuits craned their necks to catch a glimpse of her when she strolled down the streets. She has been enjoying more prestige in her work.

Suddenly, she stopped sharply at a winded lane. Her heartbeat was quickening as the seconds tick by. Having not seen him for three-months, she wasn't sure what to say. She wondered if he would like to hear about the joke General Wantanbe had told or the hilarious incident the charity ball. One thing for sure, he wasn't a bit like those politicians and business men.

By the statue of Okuni, stood a tall lean figure in a simple kimono under a netted vest, the heel of his boot with sole lined with steel, dug the earth. A samurai sword was strapped to his back, just like the sword-wielding statue. The blade shone in the moonlight; the katana not properly tucked into its guardian holder. He tilted his head towards the clear sky littered with twinkling stars, as if holding a serious conversation with the moon.

"The cries of dandelions rose in joy upon arriving maidens" His words sliced the silence of the night, his haiku serving as an introduction. Then, he acknowledged her presence. "Haruhi, why are you standing there? Come over."

"Takashi." The surprised look on Haruhi was wiped away as she ran forth, pressed herself to his chest and wrapped her arms around his muscular waist. When he bent down to pull her into a deeper hug, she breathed in his scent of stale sweat and – what she imagined boldness to be, strong, rich and earthy. The memories of their coupling moments rushed through her head, like the swiftly flowing water in the Kamogama River with constant velocity.

By the river which shone like a black pearl, she asked sheepishly, voice muffled by his chest "How did you know I was there?"

He chuckled and stroke her neck, a little of the white paint came off. "A ninja has a sixth sense that allows him or her to sense the emotion of people and creatures nearby. My in-built ki meter is the embodiment of this sense."

"I miss you!" Haruhi didn't mean to say it out loud, she was a little embarrassed at how desperate she was for his contact.

"Me too. You.." The tall man in traditional outfit paused and looked straight into her eyes. " You look beautiful"

That simple statement from him was something she had been looking forward to. The thing about him which attracted him to her was that he was sincere by looking in other's eyes while holding conversations. Sometimes it was uncomfortable, like his searching eyes were boring deep into her soul as if trying to dig for intimate secrets she hid underneath her outer cloak. Sometimes, it was lovely, similar to the feel of being surrounding by nodding daisies, satisfying the attention she craved for.

For the next fifteen minutes, both of their spent an intimate moment together before she had to rush off to another engagement. Finally, so as to lighten the atmosphere she repeated the joke to him. Takashi laughed, but she wasn't sure if he fully understood it and was simply responding for her sake. Haruhi was upset at their departure. Mariko hinted with disapproving tutting that if Haruhi missed out on this party, she could forget about Master Suou being her danna or the bidder for her mizuage. Till now, she could remember her older sister's distinct "tskking" and clucking of tongue.

The sterling-sliver bell rang in her ears as the monks chanted their nightly prayer loudly in the heart of a nearby Shinto temple.

How would things be if Master Suou becomes my danna? I wonder how would Takashi react? As they say, cross the bridge only when you have come to it.

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The third curt knock on the door startled the knitted couple behind the desk. The shame-faced blonde man quickly removed his hand from underneath the skirt of the redhead, detached his lips from her pale neck; an action like the removal of a leech from a swollen bite and pushed her off his lap. She straightened her flapper dress consciously; the mint green rounded beads swaying to-and-fro and smoothed the creases casually, while he tidied his cluttered desk and stuffed crumpled pieces of documents into large manila envelopes, trying to look busily productive.

The aged assistant cleared his throat nervously "Sorry to interrupt your, er, work but I urgently need your signature on this Mr Suou."

Sadao concentrated at a spot on the smooth glass window, staring hard at the scene below of the bustling street with people moving like worker ants and then shifted his gaze to a crack on the panel, in an attempt not to make eye contact with any of them. The years that lined his face and clouded his eyes faded slowly as he tried hard to keep a straight face. Since his boss; the son of the chairman returned from England six years ago he had not changed his womanizing attitude. Almost every time he entered Tamaki's office, he would see a new lady making kissy faces. Often they were curled up so closely; one couldn't tell if the lump were two separate people or perhaps two people were manically sewn together. So today's special was the new French actress from the Gyoku theater five streets away.

The lady, or rather Tamaki's new and temporary interest, gave him a peck before whispering "Grand Oak Hotel 345". Sadao stood aside stiffly, not even flinching.

"And what is the world out there today?" Clasping his hands casually, Tamaki leaned back on the armchair. He hoped that Mr Sadao's respect for him hadn't changed because of the incident and many others.

"I'll say it's complicated" answered Sadao, snapping the file with a new swirly signature shut. "Personally, Japan will face a great amount of hard complication before she revives."

Tamaki nodded and sighed irritably. "How long will it take?"

Deep down inside, he was glad and feeling privileged to have Mr Sadao as a mentor. He was certain old Mr Sadao would be start on one of his little speech on patience again. And he did.

"You can't expect things to be balanced out so quickly in a time like this. Patience…" replied Sadao as a matter-of-factly. "This is a time where we step into a new world. Bright ideas are encouraged."

He walked to the piano, shiny with fingerprints and picked up the sonata "Like this pendulum, new ways will swing to the other end before they return."

"Well…" Tamaki was cut off by the shrill ringing of the phone. He pried the entangled wire from the heap of stationary. "Tamaki Suou here, yes?"

After a moment, he cried out "Kutabare!" and slammed the receiver down. Immediately, he twirled the dial a few times. "Kyoya did you hear the latest news? How's Nippon telecoms?"

Sadao froze. Something serious must have happened to this company.

"Japan's swinging the damn wrong way! One of our major companies in Toyko was burnt down two hours ago. And the Ootori's factory some metres away from ours is fine. I bet he's smirking his pants off now. And the workers are organizing a strike in the rest of the factories." Exclaimed the agitated young man. He hopped from his seat and grabbed his raccoon skin overcoat off the titling coat hanger. "Prepare the plane, I'm off to Toyko."

He hasn't changed a bit. Sadao exhaled. Tamaki has always had the tendency to blame others for unforeseen misfortunes and competing with that third son of Ootori was childishly meaningless. All he could do was to hope for the better and for Tamaki to further mature. He called out "Listen Tamaki, it takes time to rebuilt a nation and you will be part of it."

Pausing in his tracks, halfway on the stairways and clutching the banister tightly, Tamaki looked back and flashed a small smile. "Yes Mr Sadao, I believe that too."

All these while, he stuck to Mr Sadao hoping that some of his wisdom, optimism and patience would brush off his shoulder and infiltrate him. "Rebuilding a nation" was something too large for him to fathom.

"After all, I'm Tamaki Suou" he said to himself. Amidst the waning light was a blinding bright ray.

Maiko- apprentice geisha (below 21 years old)

Dohyo- the ring where sumos wrestle.

Obi- the huge ribbon-like tied like a bun at the back of a kimono

Danna- an influential someone, like a hubby slash daddy, to pay for all the expenses of a chosen geisha and more than that

shijo-dori – a location in Pontocho

Kamogama river- the starting point of the river basin in Kyoto

Okuni statue- a tourist attraction There is a legend behind it!! Apparently, from Wikipedia : She's also called Izumo No Okuni and was a Japanese dancer who is credited as being the founder of the Kabuki art form. She was a maiko at the Grand Shrine of Izumo where her father worked as a blacksmith, and where several other family members served. As it was a custom of the time to send priests, miko and others to solicit contributions for the shrine, she was sent to Kyoto to perform sacred dances and songs.
It was during her performances in Kyoto that she also became known for her innovation: her nembutsu dance, in honor of the buddha Amida.
Around 1603, Okuni set up a theatre on the dry riverbed of the Shijogawa (now the Kamo river) and formed a troupe of female dancers who gave a highly popular performance of dances and light sketches on a dry riverbed in Kyoto.
Though she required her male actors to play female roles and her female actors to play that of the males, she was known for playing roles of either gender. In particular, she was best known for her roles as samurai and Christian priests. She retired in1610.

Katana- a ninja sword, the long one.

Ki meter- ninja can gauge the proximity and alertness of enemies via this. Ninjas are born, not nurtured. (I feel…)

Kutabare- 'what the hell? Frag you.' In japanese.

A/N: Initially I wanted to write a story set in the Qing dynasty (ancient china) so I could write about a treacherous Kyoya and tyrannical emperor. Plus all those romances between maids and princes blah blah… Since I have been watching period dramas since many years ago, I should be more experience in it! But Japan is cool too!

Yes, I did borrow, or horribly steal (GOMEN!) some ideas from that movie. I used that story as a guide. Uwahhhhh…

If you read the fourth Ouran manga, then you can visualize a huge Hani. (The last part of the book) Not too cute right?

The twins will appear in the next chpt!! Renge hasn't even been mentioned yet!

I will write quickly! (Yeah, given that I have 4 uncompleted stories… *sarkky tone*) Please show some encouragement!