Part 2
Aya showed up for training at the Okiya with dread in his heart and his stomach in his mouth. They had sent him alone. A woman that must have stood only half his size met him at the door, took one look at his red hair and the pale gold sun-dress he was wearing, with a pair of strappy sandals that gave him new respect for Manx, and opened the door with a frown and a "from Kritiker are you?" He nodded and went to remove his shoes. "Strapping man they send us, not willowy maiden they promise, a week." She bent down and undid his shoes, offering him a pair of rush slippers. "You walk like a man, you stand like a man, by the end of the week, you will behave like a geisha, do not imagine it will be easy. Do not imagine that we will be easy on you. Which of the traditional arts do you practise?"
"Haiku."
The woman slapped him on the head with her fan, which she wore tucked into the black obi at her waist. "That is not what I asked."
Aya thought about it for a moment, "Kendo." He answered, "I am a skilled kendoka of some renown."
The woman seemed to take this as a pleasant answer for her wrinkled and crabbed face twisted into a smile, "then you have discipline, this is good, without discipline I would send you back to your Kritiker with a flea in your ear and a tanning on your pale white ass." She said moving forward, "I am Suraki Kanishiro, you will call me obasan. Not obachan, obasan." She repeated herself clearly. "I am what Kritiker would call your liaison in this, but really I have just become your master, your sensei, if we had a fortnight I would allow you to continue your kendo, we do not have time." She hollered out "Hatsumomo." A small pale girl with a lowered head approached them, she wore a pale blue kimono patterned with silver snowflakes, "Tenshiko," the second girl wore a dusky pink patterned around the hems with shells, her obi however was a dark rich purple, she didn't lower her head but met his gaze straight on with a challenge.
Obasan compared the two girls to Aya, "Tenshiko, you will be his Aneki, you will manage him in his appointments, which will start two nights from now, until then, I will manage his training. Hatsumomo, though you are the star of this Okiya, there is none of your softness in him, like Tenshiko he will be a geisha of fire, if he had not been named I would call him that. Murasakiiro they have called him." Tenshiko blinked and then smirked, too well trained to laugh. "An ill omened name, that, but suited to his eyes. Beautiful, you will be, lad, when we're done with you, you will be the talk of Gion."
"At least he will not be the talk of Tokyo." Tenshiko said, "I suppose he will come with a danna attached." Aya blinked not recognising the word. Tenshiko noticed his discomfort and her cruel little mouth twisted into a painful smile. "Patron, pretty boy, a patron."
"Are you always so pleasant with your patrons?" Aya snarled.
"Of course," she laughed, "those who pay for me appreciate my wit," she said turning and showing him a flash of shoulder.
Obasan laughed, "you show a shoulder to a man whose skin is paler than yours and frightened of you, just a little, to boot." She took Aya's hand in hers, hers was hot and bony, like a claw. "We will perfume you with rose oil, and you will look like a geisha of legend, then you will either speak or move and ruin our illusion. Your hair is worthy of a geisha, and your eyes are as pretty as gems, come, Tenshiko, we must polish this diamond in the rough."
She took him into a large bathroom. "Did you shower this morning?" Aya nodded a little in fear. "Then you will not need a bath, take off that ugly dress, all of our geisha dress well, here at this Okiya, and you will not attend any of your lessons wearing that."
"It's high fashion." Aya protested.
"It's hideous, yellow, with your colouring." She shook her head.
"It could be worse, Obasan," Tenshiko said kneeling down, Aya noticed the wide obi she wore supported her back. "It could be pink lace." That seemed to be a private joke between them because it made them both burst out laughing.
"Lesson number one, Aya-kun," the obasan said, as she calmly stripped Aya down to his boxers, "a geisha must be free with her laughter, and she must laugh like she is having sex, everything in her laughter must make a man want her. A geisha is not a prostitute, she is an artist, but she sells sex even without her body. The best geisha are the sexiest women and never have to sleep with a customer. You must not be afraid to laugh."
"Lesson number two, Aya-kun," Tenshiko said in her throaty voice, "just as a geisha's laugh must remind her patron of sex then she doesn't wear underwear, especially those." Aya blushed as red as his hair at the mention of his underwear, which was a utilitarian pair of white jockeys. "In kimono you can be anything you want to be, male or female but you cannot hide your tidy whites."
"Lesson number three," Obasan said lifting his head, "never hide that pretty blush, your customers will prize it higher than they would have your virginity. A geisha is often very learned in the arts of the bedroom, a geisha who can still blush is considered a rare prize indeed."
"Lesson number four," Tenshiko said brightly, "you'll like this one, I think, don't be afraid to defend your honour with a tap of your fan, a gentle one for a playful customer and a solid rap for one that presumes too much."
"Kritiker said that you were shy." Obasan said, "that you didn't talk, that I think will be your first lesson. Put this on." She handed him a black kimono with a red autumnal splash across the back, "Tenshiko, help the boy with his robe, and the gold obi, I think." In a few deft manoeuvres they had him dressed in a stunning fashion, so that he barely recognised himself in the mirror. On the day that his sister had been knocked down she had worn a kimono, and had been dressed by their mother, but nothing so fine as this. The kimono was heavy and rich, it was easily the finest thing that Aya had ever worn, and the obi was shot through with red gold threads. The red brought out the colour of his hair and the black brought out his skin, but together they shadowed his eyes and made them seem large and luminous. "Let's see how our little princess looks with makeup." Aya was moved over to a small stool in front of a large well lit mirror and braced himself as the two of them attacked him with brushes, one doing his hair and the other his face.
In picture books of Japan geisha were pictured wearing heavy white make-up and looking something like dolls, only the maiko of Kyoto in truth wore that much, but that was what Aya expected. Instead they put a dart of red on each eye and a splash of dark red on his mouth. They didn't whiten his skin, but they put a jewelled comb in his hair. Then when they pulled back and looked at each other with small smiles he dared open his eyes.
He didn't recognise the woman who stared back at him. She was uncannily beautiful with his mother's high cheekbones but his father's thin mouth. The curve of his neck into the high v of the kimono was something spectacular, and he had a distinct impression that if Yohji ever saw this he would die of blood loss from his nose. He allowed himself a small smug smile at the thought. "Will he do, obasan?" Tenshiko asked with a touch of awe.
"Oh, yes, little one," the old woman said with a distinct smile, "he will do very well indeed. How do you feel, Murasakiiro-sama, to entertaining, and accompanying the fair Tenshiko on her appointments?"
"But," Aya protested.
"We will spend the afternoon teaching you to walk in geta." Obasan shrugged off, "and pouring sake is not much different from extending the boken in kendo." Then she smiled, picking an imaginary piece of lint from his shoulder, "I will tell Kaasan that you will be accompanying Tenshiko tonight." Aya swallowed.
A ribbon around his throat with a single jade bead nicely covered Aya's Adam's apple and a figure eight piece of ribbon around his knees gave him a perfect geisha's walk. Only a stripper, obasan said distinctly, walks openly in kimono. Aya may not have had the years of training that Tenshiko had, but he learned quickly and he could copy anything he had seen, as an assassin it was the one talent that kept him alive more often than not. Although he didn't, for a moment, believe that he was even slightly ready to entertain he knew that if he failed that Tenshiko would cover for him.
The first party of the night was a series of high powered businessmen showing an American colleague a taste of true Japan. In the car on the way there Tenshiko explained that the American might speak perfect Japanese but a few words in English made him feel like the most important man in the room. "I speak English fluently." Aya said with no hint of shame, Kritiker had made him learn several languages, English was just one of them. "Then you spend the night talking to Sumitsu-san, remember to laugh at his jokes, even when they are painfully not funny, tell jokes, keep his glass filled. The trick is to make him fall a little in love with you. Now American's on the whole don't understand the etiquette, don't be afraid to hit him with your fan if he gets too touchie-feelie." She took a deep breath, "once more unto the breach." She said with a smile as the car pulled up. "Remember, the more attention you pay to him the better, leave me with the locals, they all know me, and watch and copy. Don't be afraid to be a bit tart, they eat it up."
The party was in a traditional style hotel room and there was to Aya's relief, no fewer than six other geisha there, Tenshiko introduced Aya briefly as Murasakiiro, a geisha from Hokkaido who was thinking of moving to Tokyo. The other girls introduced themselves briefly and then moved out en masse to serve the businessmen.
Any worries Aya had had proved to be unfounded. If Obasan had taught him to move like a woman, then Yohji had taught him everything he needed to know to be a tease. With his acerbic wit and stunning looks he was soon holding court with the men, challenging them to drinking games and successfully drinking them under the tables with laughter. He told them a rather witty story that Yohji had told them about an unfortunate encounter with a pretty lady and some mint oil that had the American spray his sake across the room, for him to lean forward with a knowing smile and a napkin.
Sumitsu-san ended the evening by pressing a roll of bills into Aya's hands, and another into Tenshiko's to spread amongst themselves, for a most enjoyable evening, and to his credit only tried to grope Aya once. At four thirty Aya returned to the Koneko, drunk, one hundred thousand yen richer and walked straight into Yohji who had, in truth, been expecting him home eight hours previous.
"Am a success." Aya slurred, pouring the money from his obi into Yohji's open hands. "Am really tired, night." He kissed him on the cheek leaving a red mark. He went to move up the stairs. "Lecture me in the morning." His beautiful face split in a yawn.
Yohji didn't lecture him the next morning. At eight he drove him to the Okiya, which wasn't in truth, expecting him till noon and had to scrabble around to make him tea, and Aya learnt that day one of the most important lessons of the demimonde, nothing happens in the morning, they were too busy recovering from the night before.
One of the Okiya maids dressed him like a geisha as Yohji sat in the kitchen drinking tea. Obasan was one of the first into the kitchen. "Another one?" She asked looking at Yohji, "I cannot make a beauty out of this one, miracles I have wrought on the other boy, but you cannot make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. Like a hostess you look, never could you be a geisha."
Aya heard it from the door and burst out laughing, it was almost exactly what Manx had said. "Murasakiiro-sama," the obasan said pouring herself a cup of tea, "your laugh is as pretty as your eyes, that shade of violet suits you as more than just your name. I have received word of last night's triumph, how much was your patron gift?"
"One hundred thousand yen." Aya said in a low conspiratorial voice, "I didn't accept any of the other gift though he said to share it because he'd given me enough."
"Why didn't you tell me you spoke English?" The obasan said ignoring Yohji completely, "you just added more value to your flower money." Aya had been told the day before that a geisha was not officially paid for her services, she was given money to buy flowers, at an hourly rate. "Tenshiko said that Sumitsu-san was well taken with you, that all of your customers were. You, my dear, will cause a sensation in Gion, but remember, the gentlemen of Gion are not the businessmen of Tokyo, you will learn. Practise, we will, until you are as beautiful in motion as you are when you are still. I will call you Aya-san no longer, after last night you are Murasakiiro."