AUTHOR'S NOTE: In the book, Chiyo is born in 1920, but in this story, she is born in 1910 instead, so I can give her more time as an adult before World War II.

There I was, that lovely day in April 1920, looking out at the Shirakawa Stream, and feeling quite sorry for myself. It had been a year since my failed attempt to run away from my okiya with my sister, Satsu, and learning afterwards that my parents had died. From that moment on, I felt I had nothing - no family, no freedom, and no chance of becoming a geisha, which I didn't care about at the time, but perhaps wouldn't have taken for granted if I had known what other option had been waiting for me. Because of my runaway attempt, I had been condemned to the life of a maid. I was under constant surveillance by Mother, the head of the okiya where I lived, and mostly not allowed to leave, but it didn't matter. I had nowhere to run and nothing carrying me forward anymore. At first, the grief had been so overwhelming, it was all I felt. But eventually over the course of months, I found myself mentally disassociating from everything, the grief replaced with numbness. I was technically alive but dead inside. I performed my chores, but my mind stayed blank, and I had expected to go on that way until I died - either naturally, or maybe by my own hand.

That day in April shouldn't have been any different. But something happened after I had returned geisha Kanako's hair ornaments that Hatsumomo (the principal geisha who lived in our okiya, and had ensured my self destruction) had accidentally worn home the night before. While on the way back to my okiya, I took a moment to pause and see the life occurring outside of my small world of being a maid. There were so many people: full and apprentice geisha, men in both kimonos and Western-style suits, merchants, all busy hurrying to destinations I could never imagine. I also saw nature; the Shirakawa Stream, the cherry blossoms, the birds fluttering in their own dance across the skies. I had nothing to be pleased about, and indeed, at first I only felt self-pity knowing I had no purpose or beauty in my world. But slowly, I started to appreciate the vibrancy of everything around me, reminding me that despite my feelings of despair, I was still alive.

I turned to head back to the okiya, and that is when I saw them. The two beautiful geisha, walking beside a man who I imagined, based on his Western-style suit, and the circumstances of being out in the day with such beautiful women, must have been quite important. The man had stopped to look at me, not with the hint of disgust other onlookers had given me, but with a soft look of pity and understanding. His kind face was an unusual sight for me, and for a moment I thought he might come over to speak to me. The two geisha had stopped to look at me as well, but their faces were clearly uninterested in a pathetic, lonely girl on the street, and the taller of the two geisha was clearly getting impatient.

"Come along Chairman, or we'll be late!"

Chairman.

The taller geisha gestured with a knowing smile to the man called Chairman, who took one parting glance at me before hurrying along with the pair of glamorous creatures beside him. Where were they going, I wondered. Anywhere they wanted, my childish mind had supposed. I cannot tell you why this moment was different for me. I saw geisha, and important men, every day, and there was nothing particularly unusual or special about this moment - the geisha hurrying with the man called Chairman weren't even famous. But at that moment, for the first time since I had been taken from my parents and abandoned by Satsu, I experienced a sense of feeling, of urgency, of clarity on what I needed to do.

I must become a geisha.

Of course, it would not happen for me so simply. Years had passed, and I continued my duties as a maid. Not once had anyone entertained the idea of me becoming a geisha, at least not that I knew of. And why should they? My debts were enormous, and since my failed attempt at running away, I was considered a risk to Mother, or anyone else who may have been interested in helping me. But even so, I held onto my belief that I would one day become a geisha, because if nothing else, I couldn't bear to think of myself as a maid forever. Once or twice, I had entertained the idea of running away again. As I grew older, Mother started watching over me less and sending me out of the house more for errands, thus giving me an opportunity to try to run. But I knew better at that point in my life. If I were to be caught again, this time I would certainly be sold to the Miyagawa-cho district, a fate far worse than what I was experiencing now. Besides, what did I have to gain from running away? I could never return to my village, and I had no money or connections to anyone anywhere else. My slightly more seasoned eyes had seen people in destitution on the street, and despite my longing to be free from my situation, I understood how much worse off I could be.

The only path I could see was to become a geisha. Not just any geisha, but one as famous and admired as Hatsumomo, or even Mameha, one of the greatest living geisha. I had no idea how to accomplish this, but I was convinced that my belief would make it so, as children naively do.

I had heard remarks on my appearance my whole life, and even though I didn't believe it myself, I knew that I was considered beautiful, especially because of my unique grey-blue eyes. Eventually, I learned this was the source of Hatsumomo's intense feelings of hatred towards me. She had seen me as potential competition, and had made it her intention to squash me; and like a fool, I had played right into her hands by attempting to run away (I was also a young child, and though I have now long forgiven myself, I hated myself for it at the time). Being demoted to a maid had mostly been enough for Hatsumomo to direct her cruelty elsewhere, though she couldn't stop herself from occasionally saying cruel things to me (she knew no other way to be). I worked at making myself mostly invisible by staying out of her way, and certainly never let anyone know that I still intended to be a geisha.

Despite my daily drudgery as a maid, I did manage to learn some lessons about the geisha world from Pumpkin, the apprentice geisha in our okiya and my only friend. I knew that Hatsumomo didn't want Pumpkin to be friends with me, but Pumpkin was very isolated; she hadn't made friends from school because of her own awkwardness, and also because people wanted to avoid being around Hatsumomo, who was Pumpkin's older sister. Pumpkin was also worn down from Hatsumomo's abuse, and had found it necessary to come to me to talk through her pain. I genuinely wanted to be Pumpkin's friend, as I too was isolated and alone, and also appreciated Pumpkin's kindness. But I also had an ulterior motive in befriending Pumpkin: to learn what it took to become a geisha of renown.

Being a geisha as famous and revered as Hatsumomo and Mameha took more than great beauty, though that was important. I learned from pumpkin that a geisha who wanted to be successful must have patrons willing to pay for her time, and this meant a way of being that made one interesting to be around. Training in the arts was part of this, and indeed, why school was so important; performance was vital to our craft and our success. But having a mastery of social engagements, its own type of dance - this was the key to becoming someone people, especially powerful men, demanded (Pumpkin did not say this directly, but I intuited it from hearing her talk about her failures at parties and social engagements over the years). Being charming, knowledgeable, perhaps having a lewd sense of humor or quick wit - these were all traits that would keep the interest of patrons. And the timing too - knowing who you were speaking with and how to adapt your style of mannerisms depending on if you were talking to a scholar, a businessman, a performer or a sumo wrestler, while being uniquely yourself, both a woman and a dream. This is what had made Hatsumomo successful, and Mameha even moreso.

But the ultimate prize, one that made a geisha most successful, was to have a danna; these are wealthy patrons who support a geisha's lifestyle - everything from school fees to living expenses - in exchange for an exclusive relationship of sorts (at first I had been somewhat ignorant about the nighttime affairs between people, as no one ever talked to me about it, but over the years, I had discerned that this relationship was somewhere between a wife and a courtesan). No geisha could be successful just on her own fees. Having either multiple dannas over the course of a career, or even better, one or two extremely wealthy ones, made geisha successful. Obtaining a danna of my own was now my goal, believing at the time that such a thing would be a simple way to escape from my okiya.

Of course, this was far easier said than done. Not even Hatsumomo had had a danna in some time. Wealthy men, as I had witnessed, loved spending their wealth on beautiful things, especially women, but getting a man to spend what was truly a massive amount of money - one high-end kimono could cost as much as a laborer's yearly salary - for one woman was not easy. Being beautiful wasn't enough; there were plenty of beautiful women in Miyagawa-cho who cost far less. But I still hoped for it, as it was my one chance of escaping the life of drudgery I was currently destined for.

By the time I reached 16 years old, I was beginning to worry, as I was still nothing more than Mother's maid. I was getting old to start geisha training; most geisha in-training would be quite skilled by 16. Not only was I not learning to be a geisha, truly, I wasn't learning anything except how to be an ideal servant, a role I had adjusted to with horrifying ease. Besides the occasional times I could read a newspaper, I was otherwise mentally unstimulated, which I began to panic about. The longer my mind was idle, the worse off I'd be. I needed to begin learning something, anything.

Thankfully, I had spent the past few years especially getting in Mother's good graces. I hadn't once crossed her since my failed runaway attempt, and I had shown I could be dependable and keep my head down. Therefore, she began to trust me to spend time away from the okiya every so often. These moments were rare; there was too much work to do in the okiya, and even though Granny had long died, Pumpkin was a full geisha, and her and Hatsumomo required much support from everyone working in the okiya. But every so often, when Hatsumomo and Pumpkin were out somewhere - perhaps traveling out of the city - and there was less to do, I found myself with the chance to potentially leave the okiya. I decided even though I couldn't study at the geisha school, I would make a plan to use these days for learning other subjects, somehow.

By this time, I had learned much more about my surroundings, and how much bigger the Kyoto was beyond Gion. By running errands to the Gion Registry Office, and a little bit of flirtation to Awaji-san, who ran much of the business there, I learned about the existence of Kyoto Imperial University, and a whole community of scholars in that part of the city. The university wasn't terribly far from Gion, but I still would have to travel there by rickshaw, which was especially challenging given that I rarely had my own money, except for some tips I received every once in awhile from my errands, usually from men giving me lecherous looks, which had become much more common as I had grown into my face, and the shape of my body had changed into something resembling womanhood. But eventually I had saved enough tips to begin traveling on my own, and hatched a plan: to find a scholar at the university, whom I hoped I could seduce into becoming my tutor. It was a poorly-devised plan, and I hated to think what would happen if someone in my world discovered me. But as a woman and a maid, this was the only choice available to me, and once I had decided to do anything, the self-assurance of youth prevented me from thinking twice about potential consequences of my actions. I would have rather just paid for a tutor, but in a way, this was a useful chance to practice for the future. I was never around men except for errands, and I didn't want to wait until I was a geisha to learn how to be charming. It would be better for me if I already had the skill.

One day in September, when I knew Hatsumomo and Pumpkin would be traveling for the weekend to an engagement at a wealthy estate in Nagasaki, I decided the time had come. I asked Mother for the day off for the first time since being brought to the okiya. I did not expect her to say yes, but she shocked me with her approval. She knew I had nowhere to go, and I suppose must not have been worried. Perhaps she may have even felt some fleeting moment of pity over my pathetic existence (though that was unlikely). Weeks before, I had asked Pumpkin if she could acquire an old kimono no one would miss for me, which thankfully she had (I'm sure she was curious about why I needed it, but she didn't ask). That Saturday morning, I took the wrapped kimono, hired a rickshaw, and traveled to the area where Kyoto Imperial University was located. I really had no plan; I just knew many scholars spent time in the area and I was hoping to get someone's attention. When I arrived, I found an area with and changed from my maid kimono to the lovelier kimono Pumpkin had acquired. It was not the kimono of a geisha; instead, it had belonged to the mistress of a middle-class home. Even so, it was more beautiful than anything I had ever worn, and when I hastily put it on, I looked more appealing than I ever had.

After hiding my maid's kimono somewhere under a bush, where I'd hopefully be able to retrieve it later, I decided to just walk on campus and see what happened. Again, I had no plan, and at first I felt foolish, but I knew from watching Pumpkin's training, Hatsumomo just existing, and even from my own experiences that a beautiful woman could simply by existing catch followers the way honey might catch flies. I strolled around aimlessly, pretending to be deeply entranced by nature and the architecture of the university. Eventually I noticed curious and interested onlookers, but no one stopped to speak to me. After some time had passed, I had begun to feel silly, especially since I had no idea where I was even going, but somehow I happened upon a bookshop, and decided to go inside.

Once I entered the bookshop, I could do nothing but stare in awe. I had never been in a place with so many items to read. I was surrounded by books, scrolls, all kinds of magazines and newspapers in Japanese and languages I didn't recognize. I also immediately felt embarrassed, because it was clear I had walked into a domain where women were not generally present. There were men throughout the shop in aisles reading and talking to each other in hushed tones, but as soon as they saw me, everything became quiet and I was aware that all the attention was on me.

I suddenly felt humiliated and wondered if I had made a grave mistake, but I was too far to turn back, even though. I was frozen, wondering what to do next when I heard a kind voice next to me:

"Welcome miss. My name is Mikio. Please feel free to walk around and let me know if you need help."

I turned to see a warm face looking back at me. A man who looked like he may have been the owner of the shop was smiling at me, in a way that was curious but seemed nice and not the lecherous expressions I had become used to. "Gentleman, I'm sure you all have business to attend to." Gradually, everyone shifted their attention back to what they were doing.

"Thank you, sir." I held his gaze for a moment, and then quickly hurried straight to one of the shelves that was still in view of Mikio, whose gaze I could still feel on me. I guessed he was somewhere between 50 and 60 years old, with silver streaked hair and deep lines on the sides of his eyes. He was just shy of being considered tall, and had once been quite handsome, I could tell.

When I went to reach for a book, in an attempt to make myself look sophisticated, I realized immediately how out of depth I was. The text appeared to be an ancient history book, and while I was technically literate, this was far too advanced for me. While lost in thought (and even more embarrassment), I noticed that Mikio had begun making his way towards me.

"How lucky for me today that such a beautiful creature should walk into my simple shop!" He paused and I looked down, without saying a word. This was my way of being modest. "Is there something I can help you with, miss?" The words were genuine, with a hint of an intrigue. This was my chance to finally see if I had something useful in the way of engaging a man enough to keep his attention. In an innocent but alluring manner, I slowly started rehearsing what I had practiced.

"Well sir-

"Please call me Mikio."

"Mikio-san, to be quite honest, I'm not sure what I'm looking for. I am not a terribly clever girl, but I'd like to learn more. So perhaps I'm looking less for a book, and more for a teacher." I had forced myself to blush, and was worried I may have hyped up both my innocence and clumsy attempt at enticement perhaps too much. But one look at his face, which was red and beaming with excitement, told me I had said the right thing.

"Well miss...what was your name?"

"Chiyo."

"Well, Chiyo, maybe I can help you." He was now appraising me up and down, trying to contain himself and the excitement he was feeling. "Hiroto!" A young man somewhere between my age and his early 20s, with eyes both anxious and tired, came running from behind one of the aisles.

"Watch the shop for the rest of the day."

Mikio and I spent the rest of the afternoon together walking around the university. I realized when we had started talking of our backgrounds that I should have prepared to lie about myself and my background, less I give my humble existence away. But instead I told him the truth: that I was a maid in Gion who was interested in learning with the free time I had, because I was so curious about the world (I never spoke of my intention to become a geisha).

Mikio had grown up in Kyoto, the son of merchants who had managed to send their son with the first cohort of students accepted into Kyoto Imperial University after it had opened in 1897. After school, he had thought about going into business, but he had also apprenticed in the bookshop during school, and the former owner had died right when he graduated. Mikio had taken over the business, as the former owner had no children, and had in a way, ended up in business as he planned. He was extremely well read, and knew much more about the world, history, politics, art and culture than I could dream of, and I made sure to compliment him on how smart he was and how I wished I could know such things.

"Chiyo-san, I must confess that I have not met a girl like you. Beautiful women don't tend to be so interested in these dull topics."

"I am not like other women." I had responded with a confidence level that had even surprised me. But Mikio had a sense of humor.

"Indeed, you are not," he laughed. "I would be happy to help you with your studies, if you would like it."

"I very much would, Mikio-san. But I am sure I cannot afford you, as I am just a maid," I said, with a hint of sadness in my voice.

This was the opportunity he had been waiting for, clearly. By this time, it was later in the afternoon. I was keeping an eye on the time; I needed to be back by dusk, but I had time, and hoped he would use it. And thankfully, his mind was where I wanted it to be.

"Come with me, Chiyo."

We returned to the bookshop, only this time we entered through the back of the building, the door leading to a narrow corridor with stairs. It seemed Mikio lived in the apartment above the building. He led me inside, the playful and scholarly look on his face slowly being replaced with something more hungry. Suddenly, I felt more nervous and hesitant than I had at any point during the day. I knew what was coming, and began questioning whether I was ready for it. But I continued to follow him.

His apartment was small but had an inviting warmth to it. Books and scrolls were tossed everywhere, even on the dining table. There was no sign of anyone else living there.

"You do not have a wife?"

"I do not, Chiyo." I was slowly walking through the apartment, not sure of what to do next. But before I had time to think, Mikio had come up from behind me, his hands on my shoulders and his breath on my neck.

"Chiyo…...I can teach you everything you wish to know. I will not charge you any money. But you must give yourself to me."

I hesitated for a moment. I should not have been in any kind of compromising situation with a man like this. I knew that a geisha was supposed to have her womanhood intact, and theoretically be saving it for a man who might pay a handsome price for it. I had learned about these distasteful rituals from Pumpkin, and had decided I would be the one to choose when to give myself to a man, and that I could find another way to be a successful geisha that didn't involve something so unpleasant. This setting had not been what I imagined, but I still felt some level of power, which I never felt in my powerless existence. With this in mind, I joined the negotiation.

Turning to face Mikio, I said, "If I make you happy, will you teach me?"

He had come so close to me I could feel his excitement on me. "Yes - yes I will, anything you want, I will give it to you," he stammered. I think he was losing his ability to form sentences, and I pondered about how quickly a man could become vulnerable in the presence of a woman.

One night years ago, long after I had settled into being a maid, I had visited the Miyagawa-cho district. I don't know why I originally decided to do it. Perhaps I had done it because being there made me think of Satsu, and the last time we had ever seen each other. But I was also intrigued by the activity I saw, the pleasures of the night that were never spoken of in Gion. When I went to where I had originally found Satsu, there had been a different woman waiting, who didn't like that I was taking up space and blocking potential customers. I had just received my first tip after a party delivery, a generous amount from a very drunk Kabuki actor who said my eyes were a work of art. I decided to give the tip to the young prostitute and asked her to tell me everything she knew about pleasures a woman could give a man.

I thought of this experience as I was with Mikio. I don't recall if I really wanted him at the time, or was just eager to experience what I had learned. I leaned into him and kissed him, and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into the kiss, more passionate than I would have expected, and not unpleasant. He then began moving his hand down my neck and into my kimono. When he found what he was looking for, he let his hands linger, and I was surprised to discover I didn't completely dislike what I felt. I let out a soft moan of approval, and he took that as a signal to go further. He suddenly removed his hand and proceeded to remove my kimono and my underclothes. I was exposed and suddenly felt like the shy and innocent girl I was, but it was too late to go back. Mikio, greedily eyeing his prize, pulled me back to his bedroom, and claimed my innocence.