Oiran no Gaijin

"The Foreign Courtesan"

By Serenity-chan

Chapter 12

"Savage Light"

A young man with a suntanned complexion and ruddy brown hair, pulled back in a ponytail, approached the establishment that night. His eyes were a disturbing shade of red-brown and glittered with unholy malice. A single sword hung at his waist, the lack of a short sword telling everyone that he thought himself undefeatable. He carried himself as a true lone warrior, caring for none but himself. His gi was almost threadbare, but he looked credible anyway, and the ties of his hakama had been cut short, presumably for use as tourniquets. Looking at him, one never would guess that he had a wife and a child waiting for him back home, but Nakamura Makoto was indeed Miharu's husband and Michiko's father. He saw the banner above the establishment's door and licked his lips. It had been awhile since he'd had some fun.

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Nicole lay quiet and motionless on her futon - her wounds had been carefully bandaged and she had been dressed in a white sleeping yukata.

"Look at how pale she is..." whispered Saru. "She really does look like a ghost now."

"She really does," agreed Toriko, rubbing at the bruise on her face.

"Hush, both of you!" snapped Yumi, returning to the room with Nicole's things - her kimono, her cape, and her shoes - and turning to close the door. "Damn it all to hell and back..."

She had picked that phrase up from Nicole and used it as she remembered sourly that the door was in pieces, stacked at the end of the hall. Looking around, she located an extra blanket, picked it up, and headed over to the door frame with an idea in her head. She pushed out the paper in the panels above the door and stuck the top edge of the blanket through the hole, pulling it down so that it formed a makeshift curtain/door. Sighing heavily, she padded back over to Nicole's futon - the American girl had been out cold since she had passed out that morning. As she (Yumi) stared off into space, more worries filtered into her head - namely, what had become of Saki? No one had seen the seventeen-year-old in quite a while - could she have made a run for it too? No... She wouldn't have dared, not with what had happened last night...

"Yumi-san!" cried a frantic voice, its owner pushing the blanket-curtain aside in a hurry and rushing in. "It's Saki-chan! This is bad!"

Yumi, Saru, and Toriko all looked up at the newcomer, then around at each other - all afraid to speak.

"What is it, Nozomi-chan?" Yumi finally asked, her voice carefully calm.

"Himejima-sama broke a sake bottle across her face! And that's not the worst of it!" yelped Nozomi, a sixteen-year-old with a thin scar across her right cheek. "Help me get her in here!"

Saru and Toriko leaped up and helped take Saki's still form from the two young farm girls Nicole had scared not too terribly long ago, who were struggling under the older girl's dead weight. Nozomi, who had been quite the pickpocket before being introduced to her current profession, produced a small oil lamp and a box of matches. Yumi accepted the offering gratefully and whispered her thanks to the younger girl. Saru and Toriko laid Saki on the futon beside Nicole's, biting their lips helplessly as they watched her face bleed onto her pillow. None of them, Saru, Toriko, Yumi, or Nozomi, knew what to do to stop the bleeding or bandage the wounds. Finally, one of the farm girls stepped forward.

"I know a li'l 'bout medicine," she said in a bit of a Kansai accent. "Used ta patch up m' brothers all'a time back home..."

"Thank heaven..." said Yumi. "What's your name, hon?"

"Kasuga Yori," she replied, kneeling beside Saki's futon and getting straight to business. "I think there's some pieces 'a the sake bottle in the cuts. Y'all got anything I could use to get those out?"

"I think I have some straight pins somewhere," Saru offered.

"That oughta work," agreed Yori, lighting the oil lamp and handing it to Toriko. "You... D'ya think ya could hold this where it'll keep 'er face lit up?"

Toriko nodded as Saru jumped up and rushed out of the room, heading for her own - in a few minutes she was back with what looked like a Western woman's hat pin.

"Will this work?" she asked, holding up the three-inch-long pin.

Yori nodded and took the pin, bending over Saki's face as Toriko held the lamp as close as was safe.

"Like I said, her face isn't the worst of it," continued Nozomi, pointing at Saki. "We kind of have to have her on her back now, but we need to make it quick. Himejima-sama had one of the guys take a cord whip to her."

Saru nodded, looking like she was about to be ill - she remembered well what a cord whip felt like. The memory throbbed in her back as well as in her mind. Toriko swallowed hard and looked rather ill herself, but somehow was able to keep both her hand and the oil lamp steady. Yumi took a deep breath and held Saki's hand as Yori leaned in closer to her face and carefully swept the tip of the pin into one of the open wounds. Saki was lucky she was so deeply out of it - she hated sharp pointy things, which was ironic, since she kept her fingernails almost as long as Nicole's. Finally, Yori sighed irritably and sat back up.

"There's too much blood!" she grumped softly. "It'd be fine if we could rinse the cuts out!"

"Saru-chan, could you go get a water bucket and a rag?" Yumi asked the nineteen-year-old, who nodded. "Make sure you're quiet about it. With the mood Himejima-sama's in, she might get angry at the lot of us for not just leaving her to bleed."

Saru got up and silently left the room - in a few minutes, she was back with a wooden bucket and the softest washcloth she had been able to find. Nozomi thanked her and she took to hovering worriedly behind the fifteen-year-old until Yumi caught hold of her sleeve and made her sit down. Toriko switched out her hands, holding the oil lamp in her left hand instead of her right, which had been starting to shake. Saki moaned softly and tried to shift her head, causing Yori to yelp and pull the pin away from her face quickly. Saru swallowed hard and carefully held the seventeen-year-old's head still, allowing the farm girl to lean back in and take another cursory sweep along one of the worst of the cuts. Yori bit her lip in frustration, working painfully slowly to pick the clay bits out of the deep wounds.

"Couldja hand me a wet washrag?" she asked, wiping the pin on the blanket to get rid of a few bloody clay bits.

Yumi quickly soaked the washcloth, partially squeezed it out, and handed it to Yori, who took it from her, uttering a soft "thank ya kindly". Furrowing her brow, Yori inspected the open wounds and carefully squeezed the rest of the water in the cloth out over them. This rinsed some of the fresh and dried blood away, but did little to displace the sharp shards of clay still embedded in Saki's face. Yumi took the cloth from the younger girl and soaked it again, rinsing the blood out of it, then carefully wiped the wounds, letting the fibers catch and hold some of the clay bits, pulling them out. It wasn't the most gentle method, but it was the most effective. After a few more careful swipes, she soaked the cloth again, then squeezed the clean water out over the wounds. Yori made one more pass with the pin and the girls called it quits.

"Now how do we bandage this?" asked Toriko, gesturing at Saki's face.

"I'm not sure there's really any way to," Saru said sadly. "And no way to stitch them either... What do you think, Yori-chan?"

"My li'l brother got a bad cut on 'is face once," the girl with the Kansai accent mused. "The only thing I could do fer 'im was clean it and let it scab up. As long as we keep 'er from pickin' at it an' keep it clean, it oughta be fine."

The rest of the girls sighed.

"Let's just hope Himejima-sama lets her rest long enough to keep it from opening all the time," Nozomi said sourly. "Yeah... like that's going to happen..."

Toriko was about to add to that when she noticed Nicole shifting a bit in her sleep.

"Hey... I think Niki-chan might be coming around now," she said quietly, gently taking hold of Nicole's uninjured shoulder and shifting it carefully. "Hey girl, you okay?"

Nicole was panting as though she had just been running for her life - her body jerked and she yelped as her eyes flew open.

"Souzou?" she asked in a frantic voice, sitting bolt upright and staying that way for half a second before pain intruded on her senses and she fell over again, looking around groggily. "Whazgoinon? The last thing I remember is trying to stay standing... then I fell over... Where's Saitoh?"

"Whoa whoa! Take it easy! He's gone!" Toriko assured her, trying to hold her down without hurting her wounds or touching something indecent. "You've gotta calm down or you'll really hurt yourself!"

"Oh and I wonder what it would be like to be really hurt..." snarled Nicole, irritable for a second, then calming down. "Sorry 'bout that... 'm not a mornin' person..."

"Daijoubu, don't worry about it," the honey-eyed girl said dismissively. "And it's about eight o'clock at night, by the way."

"Oh..." Nicole said intelligently, forcing herself to sit up again. "So what'd I miss? Is everybody okay? Nobody got hurt because of me, did they?"

The rest of the girls were quiet.

"And who are you two?" asked Nicole, gesturing at Yori and Nozomi.

"Yamizaki Nozomi," said the ex-pickpocket casually.

"An' I'm Kasuga Yori," said the farm girl, nodding her head at the American girl.

"Nice ta meetcha," replied Nicole, leaning on her left arm and holding her right hand out to shake - the other girls just sort of looked at her strangely. "But anyway, what's goin' on? Y'all weren't all waitin' fer me ta wake up, were ya?"

"Well, partially," admitted Yumi. "But something else happened too..."

"What is it?" asked Nicole, her face darkening in concern as she looked around. "Saki!"

She tried to push herself up on her knees so that she could sort of crawl over to the other girl's futon, but Saru wrestled her back down carefully.

"What happened?" the American girl yelped, defiantly remaining sitting up.

The girls looked around at each other uncomfortably - they knew Nicole was sheltered and they weren't sure how to bring up and explain what had happened to Saki.

"A cord whip happened," Toriko replied bluntly, making the other girls cringe at her tactlessness. "That old cow..."

"No..." Nicole said in disbelief, then confusion. "What for?"

"She attacked Himejima-sama," said Yumi, surprising the rest of the girls with her bluntness.

"It was after the old cow figured out you were gone," Toriko said with a savage tone in her voice, pointing at the bruise on her own face, then at Yumi's. "See this? And this? Let's just say we're all blood sisters now. We refused to give you up."

"That Inu-Yasha..." growled Saki, breathing hard from pain and trying to struggle into a sitting position. "She didn't know any more than the rest of us, but she squealed like a pig... As for me, I'm not sorry for what I did. I wish I could have killed the old hag and been done with it."

"Saki, don't say things like that," Nicole said quietly, trying to pacify the younger girl.

The seventeen-year-old cracked her neck as she had seen Nicole do so often, her expression unchanging.

"You're an inspiration to all of us," she told the American girl, her voice serious and her eyes wide. "We all know you can run for it again. Once you make it, all of us can. We're counting on---"

"Hush, Saki-chan. Nikooru-chan doesn't need that kind of pressure," Yumi cut in, turning to address Nicole. "Niki-chan, it's true that we all admire you. But we don't want you to push yourself on our account. However, I agree with Saki and I think I speak for everyone in this room - I know you can run again. Just wait for the opportune moment. Remember, just ask us - say the word and we'll help you however we can."

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Back In 2006

"Natalia, Kirsten, I want to go home," Ashley said softly. "I can't stay here anymore."

"Ashley, they're not letting people leave yet," Natalia said patiently.

Ashley had gone back to her bench and was sifting through the contents of Nicole's purse again. Searching one of the inner pockets, she found two of Nicole's many small notebooks. Nicole was well-known as a writer, not only of fan fictions, but of original works. She was also known for her poetry and the songs she wrote. The first notebook looked like a very small compostion book, the kind with the marbled black cover and the stitched spine. The front of it bore Nicole's name, written in ink, and a few random ink splotches where the pen strokes had smeared. The other one was a burgundy spiral-bound notebook about four inches by five and a half. Inside the front and back covers, hiragana charts had been taped - Nicole had memorized that system over the summer and hadn't gotten around to replacing them with katakana. Everyone knew that Nicole was never without one of her notebooks - if she liked a song or a poem, she'd show it to anyone who would stand still long enough. Ashley opened the small composition book and started reading the first thing she came to. It was a song titled "Reality".

I run, I hide, try to believe I've escaped

But I haven't yet

I fall so many times – now I'm all cut and scraped

And every time they've caught me

I can do nothing but let my soul get raped

"My God..." whispered Ashley. "When did she write this?"

I try to close my eyes, try to make it not real

But I can't do it

I'm wounded heart and soul – I know I'll never heal

I try to think I'm dreaming

But the agony reminds me that it's all so real

By quality, most would say the song was a third-rate emo rant, but Ashley found it powerful and touching.

So real – my whole life is a nightmare

I see death and torment, but there's nobody to care

So real – I can feel myself shaking

So real – my heart and spirit are breaking

How often did her best friend feel that way? Had she just been in a bad mood when she had written this?

I scream, I thrash, as if I think it'll help me

But it hasn't yet

I'm all fought out – I'm just letting them belt me

Each time they hurt me is much worse than the last

All I know to do is let the heated pain melt me

Ashley was close to tears again, her heart hurting for her friend.

I cry out loud, try to believe it's not real

But I can't do it

I'm scarred for life – I know these wounds will not heal

I wish I were unconscious

But that wouldn't change the fact it's all so real

Kirsten, Natalia, Keith, Brandon, and Daniel were all watching Ashley's face carefully.

So real – I wish to God I were dying

Death would be better than all of this crying

So real – all the things I'm remembering

So real – I just can't keep from trembling

They watched her expression change from shock, to sadness, to anger, then to a mix of all three.

It's all so real!

I want the pain to stop now

It's all so real!

So real I'm ready to drop now

Ashley's hands were clenching on the notebook, almost ripping the pages.

It's all so real

Wake me up when I start dreaming…

Finally, Natalia had the sense to take it away from her - the rest of the group crowded around her to finish reading it.

Catch me now - make me believe it's not real

Do you think you can do it?

Bandage my soul – although I doubt it can heal

I wish I were dead now

All of you can deal with it – it's all so real

Natalia looked rather ill and Kirsten frowned - she was well-known for her poetry too. Keith shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Nicole had written him a poem when there had been a scare about him leaving for another school and it'd had a mournful tone to it, but nothing like this. Daniel, the most neutral about the situation, saw it for what it was - a badly-written song about a teenage girl's problems. He would admit, however, that her use of the word "rape" had been rather strong - he never would have thought she would even consider using a word like that. In truth, none of them did - they all thought Nicole was one of the most innocent people they knew. Of course, Ashley knew different, but she wasn't going to tell any of them that - it would have been disrespectful to her memory. With the notebook staring them in the face, none of them had any idea how true the words on those small pages rang for Nicole at that very moment.

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Back in February, 1866

Nicole had managed to swat Saru's hands away and had gone to sit beside Saki's futon. The wounds on the younger girl's face were beginning to stop bleeding, but they were still making Nicole feel sick. She couldn't stand seeing blood, even though she did have a secret "thing" for vampires. Blood could be sexy, yes, but only in certain circumstances - ones involving a certain vampire in a distinctive red coat. But that was stupid - she saw that now. Once more, she began inwardly berating herself about her silly little-girl fantasies about dashing vampires and men who could sweep her away. Then she shook her thoughts away - this was no time to be angry at herself. This was time to start plotting against Himejima-sama - something had to be done and, as the strong one of the group, it was up to Nicole to do it. She couldn't let the other girls know, though - she knew they wouldn't give her away willingly, but under enough pressure, any of them might crack.

Himejima-sama... Nicole thought darkly. Could I..? Do I have it in me to..?

She thought back to a line from one of her fan fictions - "Silly little girl - you've never taken a life before and you certainly don't have the nerve to take mine." Ironically, it had been none other than Saitoh Hajime who had said that line, in a fan fiction she and Ashley had been writing together. Now they would never finish it, she thought sadly - not that they would have gotten a chance to anyway, what with going off to college and whatnot. She looked over at Saki and nearly became quite ill - she had gotten a look at the rest of what had happened. The girl was sitting up, holding her kimono modestly over her chest, with her back exposed. Nicole had seen pictures in her history books, but seeing the real thing was almost more than she could handle.

Saki's back was torn open and bleeding profusely where the cord had torn into her skin. She had been shifted off her futon so as not to get it wet, so she was sitting on her knees on the tatami floor. Muscle lay exposed in some places and skin hung in shreds. Yori, who was looking the injuries over, had turned a sickly shade of green and looked like she was about to be violently sick. Silently, she held her hand out for the cloth, which Toriko - the least squeamish of them - handed to her without a word. The cloth was dripping wet, so she (Yori) carefully wrung it out over the wounds in Saki's back, trying to rinse some of the blood away and clear out foreign particles. Saki gritted her teeth, biting back a cry of pain as the water stung her open wounds.

"Damn that ol' cow," whispered Yori. "I don' know how many 'a these I c'n stitch! There's no way 'a tellin' how deep some of 'em are..."

Nobody took any notice of it, short of agreeing with her, but that was the first time in her life that Yori had allowed herself to swear out loud. Saki's back was in terrible condition. Many of the thick shreds of skin would have to be cut or burned off, since there was no way they could be stitched back. Nozomi quietly ducked out of the hole Nicole had left in the shoji and went to purloin a knife from somewhere - her gang hadn't called her "the feather-fingered rose" for nothing. Toriko's nose twitched and she scratched it with her free hand, still holding the oil lamp up whenever Yori needed it. Nicole had shifted onto her knees and was watching the proceedings carefully, figuring she should learn something from it. She passed her hand over her bandaged wounds - had they been stitched or just bandaged shut?

"Saru-san, d'ya think ya coul' go an' get 'nother bucket 'a water?" Yori asked politely, her voice softer than usual. "An' bring some soap too?"

"I can do that," said Saru, getting up and heading for the bath house to get some warm water and a bar of soap, plus a fresh washcloth.

When Nozomi came rushing back to the hole in the shoji, panting happily and bearing a grin similar to Nicole's Chaos grin, she produced a beautiful knife from inside her kimono. It was a tanto with a lovely sheath made of shining black ebony wood - she twirled it in her hand proudly, threw it up in the air, and caught it. She played with it for a while, but when Yori coughed politely, she dutifully handed it over, still grinning maniacally. Nicole, who loved knives, perked up and examined the weapon in Yori's thin hand. The American girl's heart raced - she had seen that knife before, she was sure of it! Yes! That was the knife she had admired when she was out with... Miku... Was it possible that...?

No... He didn't have enough money to have... Wait... He has money now... Maybe he---

Her train of thought cut off as the light was abruptly taken from her line of vision. Yori had pulled up the wick of the oil lamp so that she had a flame about three inches high. Nicole wondered for a moment, then almost got sick as she realized what the girl was about to do. Yori was holding the knife so that the blade was in the flame, moving it back and forth in order to fire the whole blade. With one hand holding the handle of the knife, she used the other hand to gently stretch out one of the shreds of skin from Saki's back. Nicole looked away, gagging as she smelled burning flesh and Saki yelped. Yori finished the cutting quickly, removing what she had to remove to get enough access to the cuts to stitch them. Shivering, the farm girl laid the skin strips on one of the soiled washcloths. Toriko, the one with the strongest stomach, folded up the washcloth and chucked it out the hole in the wall.

"You okay, Saki-san?" asked Yori.

"Fine..." Saki gritted out, panting hard through her teeth.

Then another problem presented itself.

"I hate ta tell ya this, but... I don' have anythin' ta stitch ya up with," Yori said, her voice catching. "I'm... I'm gonna hafta... Oh wha's that word?"

"Cauterize it?" Nicole supplied automatically - she was used to being a human dictionary/thesaurus/word-finder.

"Yeah, tha's it!" exclaimed Yori, pointing at Nicole with her free hand. "Uh... Saru-san... d'ya think ya could kinda... hold her down fer me? This is gonna hurt..."

"Hold me down?" yelped Saki. "Now wait just a minute! What are you going to--- OI, SARU, GET OFF!"

Saki struggled, but the taller, stronger girl carefully flipped her over and held her shoulders down, avoiding the cuts as best she could.

"Erm... Toriko-chan, d'you think you could sit on her?" Saru asked awkwardly, pointing at Saki's thrashing legs.

Toriko didn't even answer - she just planted her rear right on the backs of Saki's knees, immobilizing her legs and her lower body. Yori kept the blade of the knife in the flame for a little while longer, holding it and waiting until the metal was almost turning red. Saki was biting her lip, trying to keep from making too much noise. If Himejima-sama found out what was going on, she might have them all whipped. If there was one thing that woman couldn't stand, it was the girls aiding and abetting one who had been punished. Nicole had been a special case - she hadn't wanted to deal with a burial if she wasn't going to charge the man for her. But anyway, Saki stopped struggling as Saru applied more pressure to her shoulders.

"Saki-san, I'm real sorry 'bout this..." Yori said apologetically.

She removed the knife from the flame and quickly pressed it down on one of the open wounds in Saki's back. The seventeen-year-old couldn't help herself - she screamed in pain and started trying to kick again. Hardening their hearts for her own good, Saru and Toriko just put more weight on her. Nicole and most of the other girls gagged as they took in the sickening smell of burning skin. Yumi turned about as green as her lipstick and Nozomi ducked out of the hole in the wall again to throw up loudly outside. Nicole, struggling to get her feet under her, wasn't far behind her - not that she had much in her that could be thrown up. Yori put the knife back in the lamp's flame for a moment, then applied it to the next cut - Yumi joined the girls outside, trying to be delicate about placing the contents of her stomach on the ground. Strangely enough, no one paid any mind to the group of girls, barely decently dressed, throwing up outside the high-class bordello. It was as if there was no one out in the streets at all. However, a young man with a single long sword saw them standing up and wiping their mouths on the backs of their hands.

"Disgusting..." he mused, looking the girls over."But that one with the green lipstick... Like I said - been awhile since I've had fun..."

Thoughts of his wife never even crossed his mind as he made a beeline for the door of the fine-looking establishment - he had completed a job two days ago, so he had money on him, and that was what mattered. He licked his lips, growling lustfully, and strode on purposefully towards the door. The young man was tall enough that he had to duck a bit more than most to get under the noren curtain in the doorway. Himejima-sama looked him over - he had dark brown hair tied back in a low ponytail, brownish-red eyes, and a ruddy, suntanned complexion. His clothes weren't exactly rich-looking, but she could tell he definitely had money on him - if he didn't, he wouldn't be coming to her establishment. Smiling in a flirtatiously elegant manner and trying to hide her bandaged arms in the sleeves of her kimono, she approached the young man.

"Irrashaimase, sir," she said in a solicitous voice. "I can tell by your looks that you do not like formalities, yes?"

"Aa," the young man said shortly - he really was in no mood to bother with the madam, but he supposed he had to turn on the charm or be charged extra.

"Well then, what can we do for you tonight, my fine gentleman?" asked Himejima-sama, bowing graciously. She turned and gestured to a girl standing silently at the entrance to the back of the establishment. "Will Momoko-chan here be satisfactory?"

Momoko, a small-built sixteen-year-old with peach-colored eyes and chestnut-brown hair, bowed respectfully and watched the man before her warily.

There's something not right about him... she thought, feeling very cold in her stomach.

To her relief, the young man shook his head.

"Iie, I don't think so," he said smoothly, grinning predatorily. "I'm interested in a more mature girl... Maybe one with mahogany hair, pale skin, and... let's say... green lipstick?"

Himejima-sama couldn't have cared less how this man knew of Yumi, so she just turned to Momoko.

"Momoko-chan, could you run and fetch Yumi-chan?" she asked the now-trembling sixteen-year-old in that falsely sweet voice, giving her command in the form of a question.

Momoko looked stricken for a moment - she had been the other farm girl with Yori, so she knew what was going on in the back, but she bowed respectfully, nodded, and scampered off.

"Yumi-san! Yumi-san!" she called as she ran down the correct hallway.

The three girls who had been cooling off outside after emptying their stomachs all shoved each other in an attempt to be the first one back in the room. None of them were stupid enough to let anyone catch them outside - any witness, even one who could usually be trusted, could possibly report to Himejima-sama. Yumi pushed Nicole in first, then gracefully ducked in herself, followed by Nozomi, who still looked rather green. The smell of burned skin hung about the air in the room and Saki was still panting and whimpering in pain. Saru was still holding her shoulders down and Toriko was still sitting on her - Yori had gone out to the bath house and come back with some spare white towels that could be torn up for bandages. She was currently sitting by Saki's side, taking the tip of the knife and popping the blisters caused by the initial cauterizing. The blisters couldn't be allowed to rise, because if they popped later, they might re-open the entire wounds. This was what Momoko found when she ducked in behind the blanket/curtain serving as a door.

"Yumi-san!" she cried, bravely trying to keep her stomach down.

"What is it, Momoko-chan?" asked Yumi, trying to regain her dignity.

"There's a man here asking specifically for you!" Momoko blurted out in a rush. "I'm supposed to bring you up to the front so he can get a look at you!"

Yumi looked very much like she wanted to protest, but she shut her mouth and nodded resignedly.

"Lead the way," she said wearily, following the younger girl out of the room and back up the hall.

Momoko led Yumi up to the front of the establishment and politely held the noren curtain up out of the way - the older girl glided past as if she were on skates.

"Hai... Hai, that's her," said the young man, his eyes roving over Yumi's body shamelessly as he watched her appraisingly.

"And your name, sir?" asked Himejima-sama, producing a brush pen and poising her hand over a roll of rice paper that served as a register.

"Nakamura," he answered, smiling charmingly. "Nakamura Makoto. So how much are we looking at?"

Himejima-sama's eyes narrowed briefly as she looked at Yumi, being careful not to make eye contact.

"Tonight, sir, for you, I'll say seventy-five yen..." she said carefully. "Will that be suitable?"

"Do you think perhaps we could make it sixty, mi'lady?" inquired the young man, smiling that lady-killer smile at the madam. "I still have to eat tomorrow."

The madam regarded Yumi coolly, then looked back at the young man.

"Seventy, if you would," she said calmly.

"Mi'lady drives a hard bargain," responded Nakamura. "Shall we say sixty-five?"

"Done," Himejima-sama said quickly, before Nakamura could make a lower offer. She gestured to the back of the establishment, addressing Yumi. "Please escort Nakamura-san to a private room, Yumi, darling."

Yumi gave a farce of a smile, baring her teeth at the madam, but neither Himejima-sama nor Nakamura-san noticed or particularly cared. Nakamura-san stepped forward and, like Hannya had done, offered his arm to his woman for the night, acting like a gentleman. With her eyes narrowed in distrust, Yumi regarded the man by her side coldly, leading him along the hallways to a room. Nakamura-san placed his free hand over the hand she had in the crook of his other arm, growling as he felt the soft warmth of her skin. Yumi was loath to admit it, but she felt tingles trail up her spine at this man's touch - there was something... exciting... about him. She lowered her eyelashes flirtatiously and looked up at him out of the corner of her eye - he wasn't looking at her, which gave her the chance to examine his features.

"Now don't go falling in love with my looks there, sweetheart," Nakamura-san purred sensually. "There's always more to a real man than that."

"Oh!" Yumi exhaled intelligently, flustered and blushing a bit.

"Will this room do?" asked Nakamura-san, steering her to an open room on the right side of the hall.

"Sure... Whatever you say... What did you say your name was?" Yumi rambled, blushing at herself again for being so forward.

"Nakamura Makoto," he replied, leading her into the room.

He didn't wait two seconds before pulling her close to his chest, tilting her face up to his - he was warmer than normal, Yumi noticed. While his right hand remained under her chin, keeping their lips pressed together, his left hand traveled down her body, stroking her rear before coming up to toy with her obi. Yumi was panting, but he hardly looked like he had exerted any energy at all as he pulled back. She was shaky on her feet, so he turned her around carefully, pressing her against his body again as he tugged a bit on the bow, letting the silk slide against itself as the bow came loose. As his left hand caught her left, pulling it up and pressing it to his face, he let his right hand part the panels of her kimono. Keeping his touch teasingly light, he slid them further apart until the robe was caught in the crooks of her arms.

"Mmm..." he growled, removing the band of green beads that held her hair back in a bun with his teeth and nuzzling into her long mahogany waves. "So soft..."

Texture only mattered to him when it came to one of two things - good sushi or women, preferably the kind that could be bought. Again, thoughts of his wife never even occurred to him as he let his hand stray to the ties of his hakama and fiddle with them until they came loose. As the voluminous pants pooled around his ankles and he stepped out of them, guiding Yumi firmly with his left arm, his gi fell open, hanging off his shoulders as loosely as Yumi's kimono hung off her arms. He pulled Yumi closer against him, just feeling her back against his bare chest. Yumi was panting - none of her clients had ever affected her like this before! Certainly some of them had known how to please a woman, but not like this, just with the simple act of undressing - he just managed to make the whole thing so... sexy...

Gently, Nakamura-san held Yumi away from him, turning her to face him and guiding her arms straight down to her sides, letting her kimono slip all the way off as he let go of her wrists. For the first time in so long, Yumi blushed self-consciously, bringing her arms up modestly to cover her chest. Nakamura-san grinned and licked his lips as he deftly untied his fundoshi and let it drop down with his hakama. Before Yumi could react - and boy did she want to react! - he was there behind her, hefting her into his arms like a bride. As her arms slid around his neck, his tongue slipped between her lips, tangling with hers as he teased her mouth. Gracefully, with the ease of a landing crane, he bent down on his knee and laid Yumi on the futon in the center of the room. The lamp flickered, maybe wanting to go out, but stayed lit. Nakamura-san shifted so that his body was on top of Yumi's, pushing his knee in between her thighs, parting her legs...

"Oh... Makoto-sama..." panted Yumi, wrapping her arms around him again.

As she groaned for the first time, the lamp flickered again - this time, it went out.