Holy fast chapter updates batman!!! Here's chapter two!!

Ok, so a couple things. Thanks if you've reviewed already.It really helps me out. Constructive criticism is always welcomed. I was looking over the story online, and it looks rather unasthetic. Unfortunatley, I am working on a Japanese computer system, and it seems to be doing funny things to regular word documents. (I.e. making font large and bold, taking out paragraph indents, and indeed paragraphs altogether, as well as white space. ) Hopefully when I get e-mail at my apartment my english-based system will even things out. In the mean time, please bear with me. I'm sorry if the story gets confusing or redundant. Let me know if there's any problems!!

Also, I noticed that the chapter menu doesn't show up in the Author's Note. Sorry about that, not sure how to fix it. I will as soon as I know how. In the mean time, err...well if you're here, you obviously know how to get at the other chapters. Right. Sorry. Anyway, enjoy the story.

Disclaimer: Weiss :: Not mine. One of the few equations I do understand...

BTW, the vocabulary of today's chapter is:

Danna: the 'boyfriend' of a geisha. If you can call it that. Basically it's a guy who's very rich, or the geisha likes (often both...) who the geisha will see on a more intimate basis. However, a geisha will only choose one danna at a time, and it is usually long term I beleive.

Koto: The Japanese Harp. A long, narrow, stringedinstrument that sits on the floor. Er....a more telling description later? Gomen ne.

Shamisen: Sort of like a banjo. Another traditional Japanese intrument. Umm....right...better description later....maybe a link or something.

Washi: If a papered sliding window is a shoji, then a papered sliding door is a washi. They're the same with the exception, of course, that one is a window and one a door.

Maiko: A geisha who is in training. Above the position as apprentice. As far as I know, I beleive they wear colorful kimono and different accessories to distinguish them from full-fledged geisha. This is for several reasons that are really going to take too much space to list.

Cultural Notes: Right. So in this chapter, we have a geisha scene in a tea house, that isn't really a cultural norm. I hadn't really wanted to write a story before the story, but I suppose this is going to be necessary.

As I understand it, Geisha had anywhere from one to several tea houses they frequent regularly, in order to pick up clientelle. If the geisha is popular, or talented, (among other reasons...) a tea house will often call her to return frequently to entertain parties with other geisha, or at the requests of clients. A geisha books her scheduel according to which tea houses are more popular or prestigious. This of course isn't always the case, but most usually it is.

Here, Manx is refered to by her real name. It isn't really a spoiler since as far as I can tell they never say it in the anime. Her name is Kitada. (In case you didn't know, it's Kitada Hanae). She is acting as the 'older sister' to the younger , training geisha. This relationship is fascinating, and I could write a whole story just on that, so let me just say that it's the younger sister's job to respect her 'Onee-sama' (respectfully: 'older-sister'), and follow her example, just as it is the older sister's job to watch out for, teach, and protect her younger sister. This costs the older geisha a lot of time, often money and accessories, and so the younger sister is often considered to be indebited to the older. Often, the okiya (sort of like the geisha's home base and place of residence)will pay the older sister to train the younger.

Also, the "receiving room" here refers to the large tatami room that a lord receives his guests in. (You know, with the roll-up screen made of reeds?) I have no idea what to call it. So academic, ne?

And now on with it....

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Chapter 2

"Winter, snowflakes fall,

Grass leaves lay down to sleep and

disappear from sight"

-Basho

The smoke in the room was thick and suffocating in the darkness. A single, guttering candle cast feeble light across a low, narrow table, littered with sake bottles, saucers, and several half-finished platters featuring various seafood and vegetable delicacies. A stern, mature looking geisha robed in a steel-grey kimono that seemed to sap the vitality from her features sat silently to one side. She carefully attended to any of the room's occupants before they had even to call for her. She did not sing. Nor did she play the koto or the shamisen. She did not smile and chatter. She did not flirt. They did not want her to. Beside her, glaringly out of place in a colorful apprentice's kimono of varying shades of lavender, sat a frightened looking young girl, obviously a maiko, and assistant to the older geisha. She did not smile either. She simply sat and waited for instructions from the older woman, and tried very hard not to listen to the conversation taking place across the small table. It set the butterflies in her stomach to stirring madly.

The owner of the tea shop had told Sakura and Kitada that the party they had been hired to entertain did not want common entertainment. They were told that the pay would be very good, with even something for Sakura, the maiko, provided they could keep their mouths shut and assure that the guests did not want for food or drink, ever, during the course of the night. Though it seemed to Sakura that what the party wanted was a serving woman, Kitada Onee-san had taken the job without comment, meaning that Sakura also had to take it as well. When they returned later in the evening to entertain, Kitada Onee-san had worn the drabbest, most colorless kimono she could find, and had chosen the simplest kimono she could find for Sakura. Kitada Onee-san had also requested a simple obi, and it was made of a darker shade of grey than the rest of the kimono, matching the darker grey around the hem. The obi-dresser did not tie it into a turtle or a butterfly, or even a bow. Instead, he tied it the simple, traditional way. It made her Onee-san look ldull and humorless, like a memorial statue in the park. She hardly even put any kanazashi in her hair. It had made Sakura nervous.

And now here she was, sitting in silence in this dark room, tobacco smoke so thick in the air she could hardly breathe. A slight hiss sounded beside her and the brilliant orange light of an ember burning flared for a moment, illuminating a fierce, stern face, framed by hair the color of Kitada-Onee-san's kimono. Sakura thought it made the man look like a demon as she caught a glimpse of intense, boring eyes. Fortunately, they studied the figure across the table from her and not her own form. Sakura was not sure what she would do if she ever found herself beneath that gaze.

Reiji Takatori exhaled a mouth full of pipe smoke and chuckled humorlously. The sound seemed to be swallowed by the darkness.

"Saaa, what news do you have for me?" he rumbled. The slight form across the table from him shifted slightly, and a pair of fine black chopsticks tiped with red flashed into the candlight to claim a small piece of sashimi before they disappeared again.

"Everything is ready, as promised. The men sent out to the city have been killed. My contact found them on the road lying dead in the dirt like dogs, as they rightfully should be for defying the Shogunate. The village is as yet unawares. The time to strike them is now, before the news of their clansmen's death reaches them and they can prepare for an attack." The man's nasal voice seemed to seek out Sakura's spine and run tremors through it.

"Good. My men are waiting at the Shouenso Inn. They're expecting you. Ride out with them immediately, and continue as planned. I will find you after you have finished." The last sentence seemed to hang in the air as threat. The man with the nasal voice nodded and rose to depart immediately. Kitada-Onee-san nodded to Sakura discreetly, letting her know that Sakura would be the one to show the man out of the room. Sakura obediently rose and strode to the entryway with as much grace as she could manage while holding her kimono up from the floor. She knelt on the tatami just inside the entry way and carefully pulled out the man's slippers, arranging them so he could slide into them easily. When he was ready, she slid the washi open and bowed low, murmuring a very formal "Thank you very much, good-bye." He barely nodded in her direction, repling with a hasty "Thanks, Goodnight." Before hurrying down the hall towards the door. Sakura slid the washi closed after him and returned to her place by Kitada-Onee-san. The demon-man with the pipe was speaking again; his voice a low, angry rumble that sounded more like a dragon than a man's voice to Sakura.

"Follow him, and bring him back to me when this is over. I expect a full report of the events." At this, the four shadows that had remained motionless against the wall stirred themselves and rose silently to leave. This time both Sakura and Kitada-Onee-san saw their guests out. A foreigner with hair the color of a summer bonfire leered at her suggestively as he left, but seemed too busy to try anything else. For this Sakura was grateful as she slid the washi shut once more.

"I no longer have need of your services. Thank you for your time this evening." The demon man rumbled once more, and Sakura felt relief flood her like a tidal wave. She and Kitada-Onee-san bowed humbly and said their goodbyes and thank yous before showing themselves out. Sakura never wanted to do anything like that again. Judging by the look on Onee-san's face, neither did she. Suddenly, she stopped and put a hand on Sakura's shoulder. When Sakura looked up in response, Onee-san's eyes bored deeply into hers for a moment before she spoke softly.

"Sakura. This is the way of the Geisha. We must always do our best to make the guests happy and contented, and we must never speak openly of what our guests say or do. We must bear our burdens in silence. You understand this, don't you?" Kitada-Onee-san's voice was soft and melodious once more. Sakura nodded mutely. "Good. We will not speak of this night again, not to anyone. It is not safe to speak of even if you disguise the names or do not use names at all." Sakura nodded again, and Onee-san said nothing else as they continued towards the front hall. On the way there, they passed a tall, handsome young man with brown hair that caressed his shoulders and laughing green eyes. He bowed to them formally and then strode gracefully down the hall to the place Sakura and Kitada-Onee-san had just left. Sakura looked after him curiously, and felt herself blush at the memory of his smiling face. Kitada-Onee-san smilied knowingly.

"One day, Sakura-chan, if you become a good geisha, a man like that will become your danna. And you will be a very happy woman indeed." Sakura blushed deeper at the comment and Kitada-Onee-san laughed merrily, the sound like the beautiful singing bowls in the temples.

They went home early that night, and did not go out again. Kitada-Onee-san was busy entertaining a gentleman guest in her room. Sakura guessed, as bright, clear laughter drifted to her ears, that it was a man Onee-san liked very much.

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Ken was tired. Tired beyond reason. Normally, the trip back to the village would have taken a day's time at most. However, they did not travel on a well-worn road that carried straight from one place to the next. The forests were dense and dark, and they had to make their way slowly to be assured that they could not be traced. By that evening, they still had not reached the village, and Ken estimated at least another day's travel before they would. They had spent the night in the trees, taking shifts to watch for enemy approach. However, when the moon disappeared over the horizon, Ken did not bother to wake Ryuuta. The youth needed his sleep more than Ken did. And Ken could not sleep with the images of his men's dying faces burned into his mind. Every time he closed his eyes they seemed to float before him, eyes full of devotion and acceptance that Ken knew he didn't deserve. He was numb and felt dead. He could only imagine what would happen when he returned home, bearing the news to the village that he had lost nearly all of their most trusted warriors over his own stupidity. This of course played into the assumption that there would be a village to return to. His body filled with dread that they were already too late. He could do nothing to assuage the voice that assured him something horrible had happened in the village already. It had, after all, been right the first time he'd ignored it.

The next morning they traveled with the light of the sun, up at dawn and making their way through the dense undergrowth once again. There had been a brief incident with a wild boar, after which Ken had insisted that they rest beside a small stream and take a soak to ease their sore muscles. They caught several small fish which Ryuuta prepared over a small fire and they ate in silence. When they finished, they cleared the small camp and eradicated any of the traces they'd left behind and traveled quickly once more. Ken wanted to be at the village before nightfall. At this point, it was the best they could hope for.

They should have arrived by sunset.

And they would have, if there had been a village to arrive to.

Ken stared in horror at the sight of smoldering, wrecked foundations, skeletons of the proud houses they had once been. The slight from the setting sun bathed them in red, and cast long, black shadows against the sinister forms of dead, charred, clansmen. Ken couldn't even recognize their faces. Their forms lay scattered about as if knocked aside by the careless hand of a child, twisted and stiff in impossible positions of agony. The hiss of cooling wood after a fire filled his ears, and he was vaguely aware of Ryuuta being violently ill somewhere behind him. He was slowly beginning to recognize the members of the Kouichirou clan's front guard; the men who stood watch at the entrance to the village. The gate itself, once a proud, tall structure protecting the village was now nothing more than two charred stumps on either side of what had once been the entrance to the main village road. In the center of the worn dirt path was the hammered bronze plaque that had adorned the center beam. It was blackened with soot and slightly deformed.

He wasn't even inside the gate and already he wanted to die. The sound of Ryuuta sobbing, however, prevented him from sinking to his knees. He found strength in himself to turn and comfort Ryuuta, to suggest that they search for survivors; bury the dead. Ryuuta nodded, face wet with tears, and together they leaned on each other as they made their way into the village. Once inside, Ken forced Ryuuta off of him and drew a small dagger and several shuriken, holding them at ready, his whole body tensed as if he could be met with an army of demons at any moment. It was not far from what he expected. Anyone who could destroy an entire ninja village had to posses some kind of legendary skill. Even if he had an army at his back. Ryuuta, taking his example from Ken, drew his three-jointed staff and held it at ready.

"Ryuuta, stay close. Let's stick together and find Tomo-sama first, all right?"

"Got it." The response was tense with anticipation, and Ken was relieved to note it held none of the hesitance of a man on the verge of a mental breakdown. They had to be strong for each other. Strong enough to carry out the revenge for the entire clan now. They could grieve later, when they had time to bury the dead and then set things straight. Slowly, Ken methodically made his way through the long shadows cast by the blood red sun towards the small castle in the distance. It rested innocently on the hillside, red in the setting sun, no sign of charring or damage apparent in the late evening light. He moved mechanically, carefully, skill imprinted on his mind from the time of his boyhood taking hold of his body and moving it without Ken having to make much effort to control it. He did not want to enter the castle. He did not want to know what lay behind the white walls and flawless gardens. He was afraid of finding the truth. Ryuuta, however, was more afraid of the ominous ways the shadows were shifting around them as they passed. He felt eyes upon his neck, but when he turned to look, only death remained in the noxious, heavy air.

Ken approached the large wooden doors and shoved at them unceremoniously with his shoulder. There was no point in trying to sneak in. They may as well draw their enemies out if they were around. The doorsgave wayeasily beneath his weight, and Ken peered into the shadows beyond anxiously for any signs of an attack. When nothing moved, he entered cautiously, Ryuuta's back to his own as the youth assured no one came at them from behind undetected. Once inside, Ken shoved the doors shut. At least if anyone tried to come in the front he'd hear it.

They performed a cursory search in the half-darkness of late sunset of the ground floor and the second floor. That everything was intact and undamaged charged both Ken and Ryuuta's nervousness almost beyond bearing. Only the extremely valuable things seemed to be missing. Ken was surprised to note that even some of the very old armors had been carted off. He knew without searching that the kimonos were probably gone as well. They searched the third floor, and still found no sign of any royalty. Only dead servants littered the halls, some armed, some not. Ken frowned.

"Perhaps we should check the receiving room downstairs?" Ryuuta whispered softly. Ken nodded and they padded softly down the way they had come, pausing only to give a quick search here or there of a room with a closed door. Five minutes later saw them standing outside the receiving hall, a strange, slight, creaking noise coming from behind the reed curtain. Taking a deep breath, Ken and Ryuuta stood on either side of the reed curtain and rolled it up, letting themselves within. They let it back down before turning to examine the room. Ken immediately wished he hadn't.

In the center of the room, swaying softly back and forth in a slight breeze from the washi open on the gardens, was the Tomo-sama. He dangled from a beam, eyes bulging, mouth open in a silent scream. Ken could not help the involuntary gasp that burst from his chest. Jusdging by the bloated fingers and rubbery-looking skin, Ken would have guessed that he had been dead for at perhaps twenty-four hours. Ryuuta's sudden cry of distress had him turning to regard the place where Tomo-sama usually sat. The boy was kneeling beside a slumped form on the tatami, rocking back and forth slightly. Ken crept closer.

"Ryuuta-kun, what is it?" he asked softly.

"T-T-Tomo-sama's wife….K-Ken-san, she looks so happy. She knew. She knew. She trusted the person who did this. Look at her face." The youth murmured, voice quavering. "Gods, look at her face. We were set up. We were betrayed. Our own clansmen. How could you do such a thing to your own clansmen?" It sounded to Ken like Ryuuta was going to unravel shortly. He grabbed the youth roughly by the shoulders, and turned him so that he was looking Ken in the eyes, forcing him to look away from the form lying on the floor. He spoke in low, even tones, careful to sound calm yet stern.

"Ryuuta, listen to me. We have to hold on. We have to avenge them. We can't fall apart now, all we have is each other. We can grieve later, when we're safe. Stay with me, do you understand? Now pay attention. Underneath Tomo-sama's seat, there is a loose square of tatami, that looks like a bad patch-up job. I want you to find it and lift it. Open the door underneath, and bring whatever is inside it to me. Do you understand?" Ryuuta nodded.

"Ken-sama. You're so strong. Thank you. I'll look for it." He whispered, sliping away towards the back-center of the room. Ken crept closer to the form slumped in the shadows and lit a nearby candle.

Kouichirou Shiori's face was serene, tinged slightly with the warm welcome of an unexpected delight. Beneath it a ribbon of red bled from one side of her neck to the other, seeping into the front of her kimono and making a small puddle of congealed liquid beneath her head. Ryuuta was right. Not only was this a person whom Shiori-sama had obviously knew and trusted, but it was also somebody whom she had held affection for. Ken had seen that look directed at himself often enough. He forced the memories away with a pang that roiled from his stomach to his throat and back again. He replaced the sorrow with rage, rage at whoever had abused such innocent, loving trust. Rage at whoever could destroy the one thing they were supposed to protect and swear loyalty to above all else. Ken swamped himself with the rage because it made him feel strong, and gave him the focus to make the next move.

Ryuuta approached suddenly from the shadows, a confused, uneasy look on his face.

"Ken-sama, there was nothing. I followed your instructions exactly, but the space behind the door was empty. What were you looking for?" Ken could feel his rage build as his thoughts were cemented with solid evidence.

" The emergency funds for this village. Only Tomo-sama and his wife, their son Kase, and the five jyonins know about its location." He growled low.

"Ken-sama—where do you think Kase-sama is?" Ken gave that thought careful consideration.

" I don't know. Let's try to find him. We'll check the grounds and the village again. Grab a torch just in case. Do you have flint?"

"Yeah, I've got a bunch."

"Good. Keep it in a safe place. And stay close. Don't loose me. Let's go."

They left the room behind, left the castle, and walked out into the rose and cornflower of twilight. The first few stars were twinkling in the sky. On the horizon, a pale moon was just rising, nearly invisible in the dim sky.

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Sometime later, Ken looked up, taking note of his surroundings as he wiped the sweat from his brow. A long, black trail of soot was left streaking across his forehead after. The moon, fortunately, was nearly full that night, and so he and Ryuuta had been able to see once the last light of the sun had burned away. They had worked slowly and methodically; painfully. Neither had made a move to seek out their families. It was decided without speaking by both that any relatives they had were probably scattered out on the battlefield of the main road.

Ken's back ached. His chest hurt, and his throat felt as if it had nearly swelled shut against the overwhelming odor of charred wood and flesh mingling with the coppery scent of clotted blood. He wiped his hands on his pants; his haori and gi long since having been removed despite the chill autumn evening. His breath clouded and steamed in the air like smoke as he cast his eyes around him. It was at that moment that he realized he couldn't see Ryuuta. Anywhere. Ken's chest seized tight in a sudden panic.

"Ryuuta-kun?"

Silence.

"Oi! Ryuuta!!"

Nothing.

"RYUUTA!!! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!?"

A few late autumn crickets paused briefly in their night song at the desperate bellow, but detecting no danger, they continued peacefully. And there was no other sound to be heard. No voice, no movement, everything was still. Ken was starting to hate the stillness, the stupid false peace. Every time it was there, he lost something else precious to him. Ken didn't think he would survive loosing anything else. A sudden noise in the shadows had him running for cover before cautiously making his way the source of the sound. Nothing. He found nothing. Another foundation had lost a charred, ashy beam. Ken sighed, and assuring himself of having his weapons tucked safely and readily into his hakama, he slipped off silently in search of Ryuuta

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Somehow, as they had worked, Ryuuta had gotten separated from Ken. He stared now, somewhat frightened, at the twisting, fluid shadows around him in the pressing silence, wondering where the hell he was and how he had wound up there without realizing. He supposed, when you were digging for bodies and then burying the dead, especially on a battle field of sorts, that it was a very easy thing to do. However, this did not stop Ryuuta for berating himself for leaving Ken-sama's side. Ken needed him now more than ever. Ryuuta was the only one left to protect him and look out for him. Ken was of the highest rank, and the one responsible for somehow putting things back together and carrying on the clan name. Somehow. And Ryuuta was going to do all he could to help him. And anyways, even if Ken wasn't high ranking or the last of their clan, Ryuuta loved Ken too much to see anything happen to him. Ken was always so strong, so good-spirited. Ryuuta wanted to be Ken. He certainly didn't want to loose him because of his own stupidity.

Ryuuta was shaken out of his thoughts by the sound of Ken's voice bellowing in the distance. Gods; how far had he wandered?! Picking himself up out of the rubble he was in, he sped off in the direction of Ken's voice, hoping to find him and set him at ease. Ken was not going to be happy with him for wandering off alone like that. He was half-way there when he ran past a smoldering heap that had once been his house. Ryuuta stopped, and stared.

The entire thing had collapsed in on itself, and was unrecognizable as anything except the remains of a bonfire. Thin wisps of smoke curled innocently from places in the center of the pile and floated heavenward, like souls of the departed. Ryuuta dropped to his knees, his face twisted with grief. He had known his family was probably dead. He had known. He had expected it. But to see the reality in front of his face; to see it with his own eyes; horrible and innocent all at once. Dark and charred and jagged in the moonlight, falling all over itself in a heap of useless rubble. Ryuuta forgot about Ken for a moment. Forgot about everything except the smoke and the ashes, and the horrible, hideous pile of rubble. He sank to his knees. And started to sob. In this moment, there was no one to be strong for. No one to pretend for. And even if there had been, Ryuuta would never have been able to stop himself from crying like a baby. He felt so ashamed, and it only made him cry harder. He wondered then what Ken would do when he found his house; his family. Would Ken cry? Probably not. Ryuuta's eyes widened in realization suddenly, and he shot to his feet. Ken-sama! He had almost forgotten about Ken-sama! Ryuuta didn't even waste the time berating himself; he would do it later when he and Ken were together and safe. He whirled around towards the direction he was heading, only to come face to face with four shadows standing in his path on the narrow road. Ryuuta's hand flew to his shuriken, and he pulled out four, waiting for the right moment to strike.

" Ja, little one. Like what we've done with the place?" an arrogant, nasal voice intoned. Ryuuta grit his teeth in rage and charged forward with the headstrong confidence of youth—before feinting and diving into the cover of the shadows. He found himself dragged up by the collar, however, and hauled in to meet an all-too familiar face.

"See you haven't learned much, brat."

And Ryuuta knew then he was in serious trouble.

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dun Dun DUN...... ::cough:: I mean, oh dear, sorry to leave you hanging like that. I'm afraid it was the best break I could find. ::sunny smile:: more to follow, I promise. Yohji coming in Chapter 3!!! (Sorry, you've gotta get through 2B first...) And yes, Ken IS wearing no shirt. And if you've ever seen (or worn) Hakamas, you would know that this means the area from hip to mid-thigh along his sides are also exposed!! :::drools::: .

Any and all comments are welcome, just please don't flame me. I embrace criticism with open arms so long as it's polite, with taste, and constructive. Bashing or nit-picking people's writing is rude and only makes the writer feel worse about their work, which then probably leads to a decline in confidence, which leads to a decline in writing ability which leads to.... I'm dizzy. Anyway, you get the idea....

And does anyone, ANYONE know how to get the damn white space and paragraph indents to stay!?!?!?!

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