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Chapter 2: The Announcement

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As Ken-chan helped him unpack his miserable bundle of belongings, Shuichi realized that there was someone else in the room. Looking over his shoulder, he mistook the person in the doorway for a rather stately young woman and immediately fell on his face in an overeager attempt to bow.

The person in the doorway only blinked in confusion.

"Ano...Ken-chan..." Hiroshi said, scratching his head and producing a gentle tinkling sound from the bells in his hair, "Who is this?"

"This is Shuichi! Okaasan bought him today. New apprentice."

"How tragic for him," Hiroshi mumbled. Despite his disheartening words, Hiro stepped forward and nudged Shuichi's hands with his toe. "You really shouldn't bow that way, if you were wearing a kimono, you would tear it."

Before Shuichi could ask why he would be caught dead wearing a kimono, he realized that Hiro was wearing one, and somehow found the intelligence to stop the statement from coming out of his mouth. But, intelligence, or really any sort of rational thought at all, came hard pressed at the moment.

Shuichi only had a very vague idea of what sort of things went on at a brothel. He'd heard half-whispers from pilgrims who visited the shrine about the women who sold their bodies illegally by the roadside. Sell their bodies? Shuichi wasn't exactly quite sure what that meant, only that it must have been quite bad from the tone of the whispers. And his mother and sister had always told him to never speak to a woman with her obi tied backwards, for they were loose women from brothels who would surely ruin his virtues. Though, exactly what a loose woman was, or how she could ruin him, Shuichi couldn't say for certain.

Shuichi lifted his head a few inches from the floor to peek at Hiroshi and check if the other boy wore his obi backwards. But, Hiroshi's obi, a deep green with a flutter of white mums embroidered into it, tied at the -back- and sported a long scissor-like train.

So, Hiroshi probably wasn't loose, and he certainly wasn't a woman.

"I...I'm Shuichi," squeaked the newcomer, slowly and cautiously pulling himself back up into a sitting position. Even though Hiroshi was now -obviously- not female, he still was the most fabulously attired creature Shuichi had ever seen. "Please indulge my ignorance and carelessness until I know my proper place, sempai."

A soft smile, understanding and kind, crossed Hiroshi's face as he knelt down in the corner of the room and began to disassemble his shamisen. The poor kid with the pink hair looked so timid. In fact, Hiroshi could almost imagine him shivering despite the heat. Coming to the Kishibeya... Hiroshi remembered when he had arrived not six months before. Even though the boys in the sangyou of Yanagi street played the parts of demure women for their customers, each and every one had to have a heart of tempered steel.

This Shuichi looked less like "steel" and more like squishy cooked "eel".

"You don't have to be formal with me, really, Shuichi." A quiet voice, but somehow friendly and confident floated from the corner. "I'm Hiroshi."

"A pleasure to meet you, Hiroshi-san."

"Just Hiroshi. Hiro if you can manage it."

Shuichi watched in fascination as Hiro fit his full sized shamisen into a very small, portable box. "Um...yes. Thank you, Hiro."

"So, Shuichi...do you have a gei?"

Shuichi tried to rack his brain to figure out if he had a gei, and if so, where he might have stored it. "Ano..." For an answer, he tilted his head to peer at Ken-chan.

"You know, like an art," Ken-chan replied distractedly as he pawed through Shuichi's things with mild alarm. They would have to get rid of these ratty homespun yukatas. Well, maybe Shuichi could sleep in them... "Playing a musical instrument or reciting poetry or singing or dancing... You know, an art."

"Well, I learned some shrine dances. My mother and sister were mikos..."

Ken-chan and Hiroshi immediately stopped their activities and shot each other meaningful looks that lingered on far past their expiration date.

"What? Is it bad? Tell me..." Shuichi could feel himself being worked into a frenzy from the lack of information. "Please..."

"It's just..." Ken-chan stopped abruptly and went back to folding a yukata.

Hiroshi put his shamisen case in the corner and turned to face Shuichi. Of course Ken-chan wouldn't say it. Ken-chan practically idolized Harutaki. He even wanted the professional name 'Haruken', no matter how much everyone told him it sounded too lewd even for an otoko geisha. "Our sempai, Harutaki, is the only dancer in the Kishibeya right now, and he takes great pride in his work."

Work. Yeah. If you could call what Harutaki did -work-. And if you could call the vindictive haughtiness with which Taki comported himself -pride.

Nonetheless, Hiroshi found himself secretly pleased. Maybe Okaasan was getting tired of Taki's antics. Or, maybe Okasaan just had need of another dancer. Either way, a plan began to form in Hiroshi's head, a plan to help out the newest member of the sangyou, and maybe himself, as well.

"How old are you, Shuichi?"

"Fourteen."

Hiroshi didn't believe it. The boy didn't look a day over twelve. Fourteen. That only gave them over a year to prepare. Thankfully, Okaasan had just enough scruples to not put a boy up for grabs before genpuku. And particularly promising apprentices were kept from the more seedy activities of the Kishibeya until they were licensed.

Hiroshi slid forward on the tatami, one knee in front of the other, taking tiny kneeling steps until he ended up only about a foot away from Shuichi. He grabbed the younger boy's hands in his and with a sincere smile said.

"Everything is going to be alright for you, Shuichi. As long as you work hard at your gei. Everything is going to be okay."

Shuichi almost collapsed in relief.

In trying circumstances, it is amazing how quickly a stranger can become a friend. And a friend was -exactly- what Shuichi needed.

"Ah, it's almost sundown. The waiters will be arriving soon." Hiroshi leaned against the windowframe as Ken-chan worked the tight knots and loops of his obi loose from behind. "This is ridiculous, taking off one obi just to put on another..."

"Yeah, but you can't go out with Yuuji-san in this obi. You wore it yesterday."

Shuichi had no idea what the pair were babbling about. He was just glad to have food. Ken-chan had produced some plum-filled onigiri for him, which Shuichi was gobbling ravenously. He hadn't really had a full meal since leaving Kobe.

Ken-chan had also practically -ripped- off Shuichi's old faded green yukata, one which Shu's mother had lengthened at the bottom with a piece of fabric that didn't match the top. Money had to be conserved wherever possible to buy rice, or millet, if rice wasn't available. Ugh. Millet. Not much better than stooping to eating grass, really.

As a replacement for the old outfit, Shuichi found himself sumarily stuffed into the finest yukata he'd ever worn, a creamy orange fabric that felt like flowing water against his skin. However, a bit of a problem had arisen with the thick canary-yellow belt. When Shuichi attempted to tie it at his waist in the normal fashion, Ken-chan had batted his hands away. Together, the other two boys wrapped the belt around and around, high up onto his ribcage. Just like a girl would wear her yukata.

Something about this place had to do with dressing like a woman. Shuichi wasn't sure but...if dressing like a woman helped him pay off his debts to the Kishibeya, then he couldn't see how it would hurt. He didn't know anyone in this city, anyway. How could he be humiliated in front of his friends if they weren't here? Besides, his mother and sister were women, and of course dressed as women, and no one had more dignity or pride than they did.

"I still can't believe Yuuji-san took you on," Ken-chan grunted as he pulled Hiroshi's obi in a different direction. "So lucky to have such a reputable Oniisan."

"Infamous, you mean."

"Most taikomochi are. Isn't it in the job description?"

Hiroshi craned his head to look over his shoulder with a proud smile. Infamous, yes. But -very- popular. And the more popular Yuuji became, the more of a chance Hiroshi had to become noticed by someone important. And getting noticed was the first step to getting -out- of the Kishibeya's clutches.

Across in the room, Shuichi winced. He'd gotten a piece of plum on the sleeve of his new yukata, leaving a bit of a dark spot. Hoping that the pair wouldn't notice, he brought the fabric to his mouth and sucked lightly in an attempt to clean it off. Even the fabric tasted good, glazed with plum. Mmm. Plum.

Suddenly, the bit of sleeve slipped from Shuichi's lips with a moistened "pop". Sure. He had food now. Delicious fare that would have only been available to his family and friends during huge festivals or celebrations back home. But, what about his mother? What about Maiko? Right now, did they have food? Were they eating millet and weak broth? Were they...going without?

No, no, of course they had food. They had the money from him being sold to the Kishibeya now. It would be enough...for a while.

Until the money ran out.

A high-pitched shriek jerked Shuichi from his ruminations. Ken-chan had dropped the train on Hiroshi's obi, and now stood leaning a good portion of his upper-torso out the window. He'd grabbed the startled Hiroshi by the collar of his kimono and proceeded to drag Hiro forward. "Hiro...look...LOOK!"

"It can't be..."

"It -is-. It most certainly -is-. Look. And Noriko is there, too."

"That's not Noriko," Hiroshi mumbled.

"Yes it is."

"No, it -isn't-. Noriko is taller."

"Noriko is only taller on stage because...." Hiroshi clapped his hand over Ken-chan's mouth.

Apparently, the squabble had gone on long enough. "Shhh," Hiroshi whispered, slowly letting go of Ken-chan's face. The pair both turned again, stricken with silence, to peer into the street below. In the seconds that passed, the thick awe in the air grew ever more palpable, until even Shuichi tore himself away from his onigiri to tiptoe over to the window.

What he saw there would change his life forever...

Dainty and graceful, the woman on the street moved luxuriously through the world like a sleepy koi through water. Every precise movement dripped with a fluid weight, stirringly fascinating, a contradiction of deep charisma and effervescent sweetness. The full view of her face obscured by strings of miniscule red beads, Shuichi found himself nonetheless shocked by lush saffron-painted lips made all the more unsettling by egg-white painted skin tinged at the cheeks and under the eyes with a blush of sakura pink. A massive curved headdress, jutting with rays of gold and tortoiseshell, and rimmed with dainty sprigs of pink flowers, sat balanced precariously on piles of sleek black hair, looking much like a the sun itself had upturned itself to set into the woman's head. In the awestruck silence of the street, where everyone had come to a complete standstill or begun to bow, the wind caught every sound of the tassels in her hair, betrayed every rustle of the heavy silks of her voluminous kimono skirts. The blue, yellow, and pink fabrics, gathered into her left hand with a sweeping gesture and lifted off the dusty street, revealed a scintillating blood red under-kimono hanging to the tops of naked feet sitting atop six inch high black geta.

"Just amazing," Hiroshi muttered, obviously enrapt. Ken-chan agreed. "Flawless. Completely flawless."

And Shuichi had been struck mute. This couldn't even be a mortal woman. Even the pictures of the goddess Benten in the shrine at home lacked the power and brilliance of this vision.

An entire retinue walked slowly behind the woman. In addition to a myriad of child assistants clad in crimson, two taller, striking figures caught Shuichi's eye. The first, a slender, feminine man with a purple sheen to his hair, clad in a bright blue gi and white hakama strode confidently to the woman's left. Behind them, a taller man with an outrageously bizarre hat in a rainbow colored patchwork outfit ran from one side of the street to another, handing out papers.

The procession came to a stop one house down from the Kishibeya. With an almost indiscernible flick of her wrist, the woman produced a fan and proceeded to use it to cover the lower half of her face. With her free hand, she let go of her kimono, and lifted her arm upwards, curling her fingers into a strange, yet precise pose at her brow.

"An announcement?" Ken-chan asked.

"They wouldn't bring K-san along unless -something- was up."

The man in the hat whirled around three times in the middle of the street and then threw up his arms before beginning rather jocular and -loud- speech. "Most -honorable- people of Gion, her ladyship begs your kind indulgence..."

As if on cue, the woman's pose changed as she pulled the fan to the side of her face and bowed.

"Starting tonight, the Seguchi Temple Theater will be playing Chikamatsu Monzaemon's 'Love Suicides at Sonezaki'. Her ladyship, shocking the local officials with her boldness..."

At this point, the woman grabbed her skirts and whirled around. She fluttered her fan near her shoulder and leaned in to "whisper" something into the ear of the purple-haired man. An exaggerated look of shock crossed his face, causing the gathering crowd to break out into a ripple of laughter.

"...Ahem. Shocking local officials with her boldness, will take the stage as the tragic, but lovely, courtesan Ohatsu!"

The crowd's approval could not have been more palpable.

"Accompanying her will be none other than the renowned Noriko-san playing kokyu...along with many other special guests!"

The purple-haired man gave the audience a sweeping bow.

Ken-chan elbowed Hiro. "I told you that was Noriko."

There were several more announcements that Shuichi didn't quite understand, along with a reiteration of the location and times for the play. Afterwards, onlookers rushed the man Hiro had identified as 'K-san', clamoring for slips of paper. And yet, Shuichi noticed, everyone in the street seemed to pointedly avoid the other two figures, almost as if they -knew- talking to them would be inappropriate.

Well, everyone avoided them...until Okaasan appeared in the street.

Scuttling up to the pair, her pinched face painfully pulled into some fake semblance of delight, Okaasan bowed first to Noriko-san and then to 'her ladyship.

Shuichi couldn't quite hear what Okaasan said, but from her gesture back towards the Kishibeya, he assumed that the sangyou's proprietor had asked the pair to come inside.

"Do not..." Noriko-san said loudly, as he moved himself protectively in front of the woman, "...address Sakuma-sama so familiarly!"

A surprised silence drifted over the assembled crowd, a rippling anti-titter which ended with everyone in the street staring at Okaasan.

"I do not mean to insult Sakuma-sama," Okaasan replied, bowing low to both the pair once more, "But, was she not once acquainted with Kishibeya-san, long before her days with the Seguchi Theater. Perhaps she merely does not recognize the face of her former mistress. It has been long, indeed, since we have spoken."

Shuichi watched as Noriko-san took a step forward, drew a cherry-colored bokken from where it hung at his hip, and used it to poke Okaasan in the chest and push her backwards. "You are mistaken, Kishibeya-san. Sakuma-sama would never -willingly- associate with the likes of you, nor with such a disreputable business as the Kishibeya. I am sure everyone here will agree that Sakuma-sama's honor is sacrosanct in this matter!"

A murmur of agreement floated through the crowd.

Okaasan brought her hand to the tip of the bokken and attempted to remove it from her chest with a scowl. But, instead, Noriko pushed all of his weight against the curved wood, sending Okaasan sprawling into the street.

The sputtering, now dirtied, proprietor of the Kishibeya wiped at her face with the back of her kimono sleeve and pulled herself up. "Say what you wish, Noriko-san. I think everyone here knows the truth about you, don't we? The only sort of person who would be an expert at playing the kokyu would be..."

Shuichi didn't even see how it happened, but in a flash, the jovial man who had given the speech, K-san, was standing behind Okaasan, his arm wrapped around her throat, a glittering tanto pressed to her chin. "Not another word, Kishibeya-san." The now very -deadly- looking K-san leaned forward and whispered into Okaasan's ear, and whatever he said, it turned her as white as a ghost.

Once Okaasan was released, she scuttled back towards the Kishibeya, her hurt pride obviously dragging behind her as heavy as a sack of rocks. Shuichi barely even knew the woman, but the look on her face bespoke no mercy. This was not, in Okaasan's estimation, even -close- to being over.

Shuichi turned his attention back to the fabulous woman identified as "Sakuma-sama". Had she been shocked? Afraid? Worried? No. Not a single expression had passed those starkly painted features the -entire- time. Like some sort of inanimate doll, Sakuma-sama had spent the entire argument...impassively motionless.

And yet, once Okaasan had re-entered the Kishibeya, a tiny breeze meandered through the street, billowing the hems of Sakuma-sama's kimono. Her eyes lifted, as if to keep from having dirt blown into them from the wind... Eyelashes, lined with the same deep red as her lips, fluttered once, twice, and then....

Sakuma-sama looked directly at the upper window of the Kishibeya.

And winked.

"She's so pretty," Shuichi finally gasped as the trio of Sakuma-sama, Noriko-san, and K-san, slowly made their way down the street and disappeared. "I mean she's -really-, -really- pretty. It's like she comes from an old fairy tale or something... Who -is- she? Is she a princess? Like...a daimyo's daughter or something?"

Ken-chan and Hiro both broke into laughter. By now, Ken-chan had finished Hiro's obi, and had moved on to brushing out Hiro's hair and putting it up into curling loops fastened with combs and bells.

"You probably think Noriko-san is a man, too, don't you?" Ken-chan said with a giggle. "Hey, Shuichi. Go open that cabinet over there. Pull out the scroll underneath the green yukata."

"Well, yes. I mean...isn't he? I mean...what do you mean?" Shuichi slid the cabinet open and lifted up the yukata. No scroll.

Hiro winced when Ken-chan pulled on his hair a -bit- too hard. "Noriko-san is a woman. By the emperor's edict, women can't perform in theaters, but Seguchi-san wanted a kokyu player for his plays. And since Seguchi-san -only- gets the very best, he bought the tayuu with the -best- kokyu skills and put her on the stage. But, of course, she has to keep up the ruse that she's a man."

"Well..." This was all so confusing. Shuichi shook his head to try to rattle his thoughts together properly. "If she's a woman, and everyone knows, why doesn't someone tell the authorities."

"No one in Gion goes against Seguchi. He's....very powerful. He could put anyone here out of business. Besides, some of the most renowned men in Tokyo go to see the plays at the Seguchi Temple Theater. Think how ridiculed they would be if someone suddenly pointed out that Noriko is a woman. No one wants to make those kinds of enemies...." Hiro suddenly jerked his head away from Ken-chan's hands, "Itai! Can't you be a little more ginger? This is my HEAD we're dealing with here, Ken-chan."

"I'm just so excited," Ken-chan replied with a pout as he pulled Hiroshi back into place, "We just -have- to find a way to go see that play."

"Okaasan would -never- let us. She'd report us as runaways. The Kishibeya is bad, but at least we're apprentice otoko geisha, and not mere waiters or servants."

"True," Ken-chan muttered. Waiters. Ugh. Ken-chan shuddered. -That- job was -truly- the bottom of the barrel. Being a waiter had very little to do with serving food at the sangyou, and a whole lot more to do with seeing how many customers you could get to go upstairs with you on a given night. At least the otoko geisha had their gei, and had respect. They weren't mere whores to be used and discarded.

"Oh, I think I've found the scroll you wanted, Ken-chan." It was, in the end, under a -blue- yukata and not a green one. But, at least Shuichi had done -something- to assist the pair, which made him feel mildly better. "What should I do with it?"

"Unroll it, of course."

Shuichi's nimble fingers found the edge of the paper, and he carefully unfurled the long scroll. A brilliant woodblock painting stared up at him.

"This is..."

Those same eyes, crinkled with mirth, laden with singular beauty, stared up at Shuichi from the picture. Sure, it only captured a mere fraction of her charm and grace, but still... That pose. The fan. The hair.

"...Sakuma-sama."

Hiro smiled and turned to look at Shuichi. "Un. Sakuma-sama. In his very first performance after Seguchi bought him from Okaasan."

"HIS?! HIM??"

That couldn't be right. Sakuma-sama was a -woman-. Even K-san referred to Sakuma-sama as "her ladyship".

"There are no women on the stage, Shuichi. Except for Noriko-san, of course. All the female parts are played by the onnagata, actors who dress as women. By the emperor's edict, they also portray themselves as women in public, as payment for the privilege of their status." Hiro pointed to the bottom of the scroll. "See?"

Shuichi's fingers trickled down the parchment and ended up at a block of characters which read.

"The Seguchi Temple theater presents Ryoi's "Tales of the Floating World", starring the elegant and mysterious Sakuma-sama...

In -his- very first role...

As an Illustrious Onnagata of Gion!"

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In Our Next Chapter: Okaasan's anger for letting Ryuichi slip through her fingers all those years ago... The hard training begins for Shuichi, much to his chagrin. A disastrous encounter with Harutaki... And will the boys chance being caught to sneak off to the theater?

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Glossary and terms:

"Obi tied backwards": Many prostitutes wore front-tying obis in simple knots to allow themselves to undress and re-dress more quickly. Hiroshi's obi: Hiro's obi is tied in the style common to "maiko" or apprentice geisha. Generally, maiko dress in much more festive colors, wear higher geta, and have more elaborate makeup than geisha. However, in this story, the apprentice otoko geisha do not wear makeup or high geta.

gei - Art. The word "geisha" or the Kyoto dialect "geiko" is derived from this term. Geisha means something in the realm of "artiste", and "geiko" means "arts child".

mikos - Shinto priestesses Haruken - Can possibly be translated to "springtime sword", which is just utterly suggestive, if you think about it.

genpuku - Coming of age. For boys, this was when they turned fifteen. Afterwards, they were considered men.

licensed - Female geishas had to be licensed if they wanted to operate legally. At one point (I forget exactly which year), those geishas who also provided sex services (there were some) had to have two licenses, one to perform their art, and one for sex. In the Kishibeya, otoko geisha are licensed a year and a day after genpuku.

yukata - summery-type robe, often the daily wear of the lower classes sempai - Senior, as in...the person with more experience in business or school than you.

Benten - Strangely enough, she is the patron goddess of the arts, and in particular...geisha.

Oniisan - Maiko, apprentice geisha, have to have a geisha to sponsor their training. This person is generally referred to as their "oneesan" or "big sister". Hiroshi, of course, has a "big brother", instead. And, his Oniisan is from a reputable teahouse, rather than a sangyou like the Kishibeya. Ken-chan's Oniisan is Haruma-kun.

Taikomochi - These are licensed "jesters" or "comedians". They are still male geisha, but there are no female counterparts to their art...as the jokes and skits they play out to entertain customers would be considered unfeminine.

kokyu - a string instrument most often played by the "tayuu" class of courtesans. The tayuu class is -all- female. Obviously, if a -male- is an expert in playing the kokyu, it is highly suspicious.

Chikamatsu Monzaemon's 'Love Suicides at Sonezaki' - A sort of "Romeo and Juliet" of the time.

bokken - A wooden sword. Only samurai were allowed to carry actual swords, so even though Noriko is dressed as one, she must carry a fake.

tanto - dagger daimyo - Feudal lords of large territories. They served both the emperor and the shogun, and wielded incredible power within Japan. The samurai, in turn, served the damiyo.

tayuu - The highest level of female courtesan. They are fabulously costly, and generally end up as the consorts of only the richest and most powerful men in Japan. Women in kabuki - Was strictly forbidden by this time. Geisha could perform, but only as "parlor" performers. Never kabuki.

onnagata - Well, we finally learn what the onnagata is. It is a male portraying a female role for kabuki theater. The onnagata of Gion were considered to be the elite actors of the entire country, and of course, Ryuichi is, by now, the most famous of them all. It was said that an accomplished onnagata could be more feminine, graceful, and beautiful than even the most celebrated of geisha or courtesan. Although many actors, by trade, sold sexual favors on the side to suppliment their income, by the time one would reach Ryuichi's heights of fame, this would no longer be necessary.

Reviews:

Thank you to all of the reviewers of the first chapter of "The Illustrious Onnagata", including:
Yma (Glad you tried it out), KageKitsune16, Kloudy Reignfall, Evil Chibi Malik, Guren, surrealgreen, Lotus-chan (Actually, I do write quite a bit of Kenshin fanfics), Rula (Stay off my feet!), Aibyouka (Everyone in drag!), ven, Yukichi, graviaddict, LethoLogic (Even larger glossary this time, hope that helps), Aja, Hitomi (Now you know about the Onnagata), Patosan, feverdream, and clarichan.