Chapter 2: Iris, the Exotic Flower

A balmy feeling hit his eyelids, and a dull pain entered his head. He shut his eyes more tightly and murmured obscenities under his breath. Once opening his eyes, he found himself in a dim room, lit by the sun through the rice-paper in the shoji.

A woman was kneeling above him, and though blurred for a moment, his vision soon focused and met with her kind gaze.

She was a young woman of about twenty-three with hair so black that it was almost indigo and pulled up in fancy combs and such. Her green eyes were kind but hidden greatly under her massive amounts of make up that included the white face-paint, deep, red lipstick, pink blush, and aqua eye-shadow. Her brightly designed kimono looked dirty and hung lazily all about her.

She was a woman of the night.

"Young boy, are you all right?" She asked, tenderly touching his cheek with her silky, manicured hand.

"My head…" He muttered, raising up. "What did I do last night?" He looked through his sheets to find himself in nothing but his undergarments. "-and what happened to my clothing? Did I-"

"Oh, no, no," She said. Her voice was sweet and lonely, a high alto. "I found you unconscious in the rain. I brought you here so you wouldn't catch cold."

"Oh…" He said, laying his hands lazily over his lap and staring at the shoji awkwardly.

"Do you… think less of me because of what I have done?" She asked.

"Ah-?" He turned to her, surprised.

"What I do… you think less of me?"

"No," He shook his head. "I'm sure you have your reasons… My mother had to put food on my table…"

"Oh, your mother?" She exclaimed.

"Yes," He said, nodding, eyes closed.

The woman looked solemnly at him. She obviously felt sorry for him. He hated that. He didn't want to be treated as if he was pitiful. He could fend for himself. He needed no one. Either way, it was disrespectful to speak in resentment to her kindness, despite what she had done, so he kept silent.

"How old are you she asked suddenly, knocking him out of his thoughts.

"I am…" He thought about it. Should he really tell her his age? He knew that she had to of acknowledged how terribly inebriated he had been last night, and he was actually much too young to be drinking and that might pose a scolding. Then again, she had done many wrong things herself for who knew how long, and it wasn't as if she was being secretive with him. He decided that he should honor her benevolence and tell her the truth. "I am fifteen."

"Such a tender age," She said, touching his face again. "You poor soul… Pardon me for intruding, and you don't have to answer if you don't want to… but… what are all those bruises and scars from?"

Yahiko stared at her, not speaking. That was a subject he preferred not to talk about, for just thinking about it sent chills down his spine. "I--- I'd rather not talk about it…" He bowed shamefully in front of her. "Thank you for your generosity. I am not worthy of your kindness-"

She giggled and stood. "You speak like an adult. So very intelligent, you are."

"Nah," Yahiko stood, and, showing no modesty, walked across the room in his underwear. Truthfully, his body had been beaten rather badly. After all, he did have a tendency to rebel, and the Shuei didn't exactly like that. "I just grew up too fast… That's all… Could you… tell me where the bath is?" He wanted to change the subject…. Desperately.

"Oh, yes!" The woman said, blushing in embarrassment, throwing her hands together. "I'm so foolish. I didn't even think about it! Aha…"

Yahiko gave a small smile. "You're much more natural with emotions like that."

"Hm?" She blinked a few times as she stood in front of him. "Is that a compliment?"

"Yes," Yahiko nodded.

She smiled warmly. "Thank you very much then, ah-"

"Yahiko," He said, straightening up. "Myojin Yahiko."

"Myojin?" She put her finger to her chin. "I've heard that before, I know I have."

"Don't let it bother you. It was my father's name. He fought and died with Shogi-tai. He wasn't the most well known… but he was the best… according to my mother…"

"No wonder your mother is always working so hard."

"Psh," Yahiko closed his eyes and crossed his arms. "She can't. She died when I was four."

"Ah-" The woman covered her mouth and looked blearily away to hide her shame. "I'm so sorry… so very sorry."

"It's all right," He said, turning her face so that she could look into his eyes. "I know she tried very hard… very hard… and that's why I live for her and my father now…" He smiled at her.

The woman let her tears flow down her face, washing away bits of her make-up. "To be so young… and all alone…"

Yahiko walked out into the hall area. "Alone… I would've been better off alone…" She walked up behind him and pointed out the back.

"We don't have a bath, but there's a lake out there. It's crystal clear and not freezing. We washed your clothes last night in it."

"Thank you," He said, bowing. "You are very good. Please, tell me what I can do to repay you for your kindness."

"You could stay here so you won't be out in the rain at night," She said, beaming.

"St-stay? Here?" He looked around.

"I know it's not the best place, but it has a roof and good food. Please, Myojin, sir, stay at least one night to keep yourself warm. We offer you a soft futon with many blankets, delicious meals, and a place to hide out the chilled winds and storms."

"Thank you so much," Yahiko said, bowing again. ",but that's not me repaying you."

"Of course it is. We're always happy to have guests, and you're the first in awhile who isn't trying to get into our kimonos." She chuckled as his cheeks reddened.

"I will stay… tonight. I will find another place tomorrow. Thank you very much, um--- ah---"

"My name… is Iris."

"Iris…" He repeated. "That's a lovely name."

"I shall have one of the ladies bring you some clothing. Go ahead and get that mud off of you."

"I will do that," Yahiko nodded, grinning ear-to-ear and still blushing. He then ran off out the door to find the lake.

Another woman emerged from one of the rooms, dressed and painted similarly though not nearly as striking as Iris. "Iris, dear…" The woman said. "He reminds you of your son, doesn't he…"

"He would've been around his age now," Iris said, looking at the floor. "If… if he hadn't…" She spoke softly, tears welling up in her eyes. The other woman placed her hands against Iris's bare shoulders and held her gently as she wept for her son. "Oh… Kayko… I wish he was here with me… so much… so, so…. Much….." She then let out a rather large cry.

"Shhh…" Kayko soothed. "It's going to be all right… Shhhhhhhh…. It's all right, Iris… Just let it all out now…"

"Kay… ko…." She whimpered. "Why did it have to be him? Why did it have to be… my son… who was killed?…"

Kayko stared silently at the woman, a somber look upon her face. She wasn't quite sure what she could say. There really was nothing she could say…. So she just stood there, and let Iris cry, never saying a word. Iris was thankful for that.

Yahiko, meanwhile, had found the lake, for it wasn't far off from the building. Surrounded in lush green trees with small white blossoms, it was a truly exquisite sight to behold. It even had a small waterfall pouring off of shining, wet rocks. The lake itself was clear and blue as the sky, sparkling in the sun and looking very inviting.

He undressed out of what little he was wearing and sank into the lagoon, sighing at the cool temperature, seeming to be set just right. He dived under and began to wash the murk from his hair.

A small, elegant hand placed itself against a tree trunk, and a young face peeked out from behind it to see the event taking place in the water, pale, violet eyes watching every movement in astonishment.

Yahiko stood in the water, it running about waist deep, and splashed the cool water on his face. He smiled, enjoying how nice it was.

The two eyes focused on his form, and the skin below them flushed significantly.

He shook his head, dazzling droplets of water flying from his disheveled tresses. His deep auburn eyes flew open, and tiny beads of fluid seemed to dance upon his eyelashes.

The fair hands flew to the young person's mouth, and she gasped almost silently, for she had never seen a young man look so exquisite. She turned to depart, for she did not feel worthy of looking upon once so handsome, but stopped for a moment for a final glance.

"Goodness… haven't I… seen him with the Shuei organization?" She question, wide-eyed. "It- It couldn't be! Why would one so young be following those horrid men around? Why--- what could possibly benefit from that? I--- I'd better go before he sees me…" Her shoes clapped against the earth as she ran as fast as her orange, stripped kimono would permit her feet to go. Her dark locks fluttered around her features as she glimpsed back numerous times to make sure that she wasn't being followed, and she soon left and sneaked back around to the front of the building.

"Tsubame! Over here!" A woman from the building called, beckoning her over happily.

"Oh!" The youthful woman cried, picking up the serving of food of food she had placed at the side when she heard splashing. "Coming!" She exclaimed, running towards her with the tray, making sure that absolutely nothing spilled. Her face was still pink.

"Tsubame, dear, why is your face so rosy? Are you ill?"

"Oh, uh-no!" She cried, her face going ever redder. "I uh- I've brought your order, compliments of Akabeko, madam!"

The woman took it from Tsubame.

Yahiko finished his bathing minutes later, drying off with a towel the women had brought him and changing into his now-clean clothing.

He was never even aware that she had been there.