Hiya. The usual disclaimers. By the way, I know everybody calls him Shichi-san, but the way I call him is easier on the tongue, and makes it easier for silly fangirls like me to go……awwww…...Roji-san……my hero……(just kidding).
We continue with my study in using the masculine and feminine pronouns, hehe. Parental guidance required for this chapter.
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It was already an established tradition at the Hotaruya. At the end of each week, the resident geishas and maikos of the inn held a presentation for all the guests. It included dances and instrument playing. This was also when new additions, such as new maikos or promoted geisha, were introduced to the public.
The regulars of the inn began the presentation as the younger members served the food to the assembled guests. Yukino ended this segment with the slow dance routine that her ward saw her practice the day before. As this had been seen before by several of the regular customers, it only received a decent amount of clapping. She bowed kindly, and sighed.
It was now time.
"Gentlemen, as an added treat to you this evening, we would like to introduce our new resident jester," Yukino announced.
The guests looked at each other and whispered among themselves. The Hotaruya specialized in female geisha, unlike others who also trained male performance arts masters and entertainers. The inn got its houkan and taikomochi from elsewhere.
"Are you kidding us? We're here for the girls, the girls!" one of the men chided.
"Ah, so am I, so am I!" the new jester sauntered in behind the guests with a flourish and a bow. "Why did you think I got this job? So I can be with these girls all the time!"
This sent the guests laughing, as the jester approached center stage. His hair was hidden in a bright bandana. He wore absurdly bright loose clothes and white gloves. However he did not wear any makeup.
"Gentlemen, our new jester! His name is…….um………what SHALL I call you, anyhow?" Yukino asked him, half sincerely nervous.
Just then a shriek came from offstage. "Momotaro-san!"
The jester cowered behind Yukino.
"You broke all the plates again!" Mayo marched up to center stage with a scowl and a broom.
"I'm really sorry!" He kept cowering behind the geisha, who kept pushing him away, while Mayo kept trying to hit him with a broom.
"So that's your name?" Yukino asked, facing the audience. "Why in the world are you called 'Momotaro'?"
"Well, I fell off a peach tree and onto the roof of the inn…." He began explaining, a reason so weird the guests laughed starting at the mention of the tree. The rest of it was drowned out.
Yukino smirked. "Well, then, peach boy, could you prove your worth to us while we serve these guests their tea?"
"But, the plates!" Mayo complained.
"He'll pay for it, oh, yes, he will!" Yukino said as she presented the shamisen to Shichiroji, "From the tips of these gracious guests after the show!"
"You mean….," he sulked.
"No dinner for you," she tossed her head.
"Fine," he sulked again, took up the shamisen and sat down over a mat. "My first song then is about my lost dinner….."
All this, of course, got the pity of the guests to the new jester, and they promised to tip well at the end of the presentation. Besides, they were not disappointed by the jester's playing of the shamisen. He was quite good for a new entertainer, and had a good warbling voice to match the somber tones from the shamisen. He even received a good round of applause after the piece.
He bowed profusely. "You are too kind." He stood and returned the shamisen to Mayo. "Now, for our next presentation, the beautiful Yukino and I shall perform for you a dance you wished you could do to any of the pretty girls here…."
Yukino glared at him, obvious to both Shichiroji and to all the guests. They had agreed backstage. NOT that one. Not in front of an audience! They had decided on another, happier routine that morning.
The jester bowed and announced the piece. "The dance of the fireflies."
She breathed a sigh of relief…then she paused. There was no such dance in her repertoire. All the same, she walked up to him, and bowed to the audience.
"What are you driving at?" she hissed at him as they bowed together.
"I just want to tell you something," he replied, as they raised their heads. He made the cue for the music to start.
The music was for the dance they practiced that morning, a harvest dance, but the starting position he assumed was for the lovers dance. Not wanting to let the audience know there was something wrong, Yukino just followed and assumed the same position. He smiled gratefully, then proceeded with the initial steps, gaining the partner's attraction.
But the steps were threatening to get out of sync with the music, so she replied with the harvest dance's first movements. I will not let him ruin this dance, she kept telling herself. The way she could not possibly let him ruin her future.
He kept in time with the harvest dance but maintained the steps from the other, more intimate routine. He moved in closer, ever closer, as she kept trying to move away. His eyes kept looking earnestly at her, begging her to pay attention.
She finally did, and she thought she understood what he had to say.
Let me pay you back. Please. Trust me. Believe in me. I can protect you. I can keep you safe. I can even love you.
As the final stanzas of the dance began to be played, she had to answer.
I have to think of the future, and so do you. What will life be like with us together? It's not that I don't trust you. But there are too many uncertainties, too many doubts.
He more or less understood, and replied with his eyes.
I don't have the answers, either. But I promise to always stand beside you and protect you, whatever happens. Take it or leave it. That's all I can promise. I will do it until my last breath.
And the music stopped. The two looked at each other knowingly, bowed to each other, then to the audience.
A long round of applause came from the guests. "Splendid! Splendid!" one guest shouted. "Do it at the festival!" another begged.
The completed dance became an unusual fusion of the one they practiced yesterday morning, and the one they practiced that morning. It was filled with the untold love of the first, combined with the quick movements of the second. It gave the impression of two fireflies, indeed, a male and a female, fluttering around the dangerous flame of a candle. A flame that gave them light and brought them together, but also threatened to destroy them.
"And that concludes our show for this evening. Thank you for your kind attention."
All the performers bowed to the guests, to more applause.
Yukino stopped him backstage. "Say you did not mean it."
Shichiroji did not waste a moment. "I mean it."
"You're out of your mind."
"You're afraid of love."
"There's more to life than love!"
"Money does not buy love."
"I've just known you three weeks!"
"I can wait. But I'm not going anywhere."
"You're a player."
"You're a coward."
SLAP!
Yukino marched up to her room to retouch her makeup and fix her hair.
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That slap hurt her as much or more than it hurt him. I'm not a coward, I'm not a coward! She kept reminding herself. But she also knew that he was right. She was a coward. If she were not a coward, she would have gone to him and apologized. But she did not.
She found it hard, impossible, to talk to him the next day. The rest of the Hotaruya congratulated him on being allowed to stay on as an entertainer in training – because, of course, he had to learn the rest of the skills required. She, on the other hand, kept avoiding him. He was just a fool who had fallen for his savior. It was an infatuation. When he gets really well and leaves the inn, he would find another girl, and she would be forgotten. He would soon find a replacement for her.
He knew his way around women. He knew what pleased them, what riled them. But he had not taken advantage of that knowledge, over the three weeks he had been there. He did not flirt with any of the girls, just teased them without malice every once in a while. Either he was a VERY good chameleon, or he was a gentleman with a sense of humor. And yet, that dance was real, the gestures were real, the thoughts and feelings were real. The emotions expressed were beyond infatuation, she saw it in his eyes.
She had to admit, though, that she had liked something inexplicable since she first found him. Confidence? Self-assurance? Coolness? Probably. The will to live? The will to take what life sends along and use it to full advantage? Maybe. She was not sure. Surely it must be an infatuation. Surely it must be just emotional attachment. Like a girl who adores the pet rabbit she had nursed back to health.
In any case, she felt something new with this unusual relationship, and so did he. Both of them did not know what, but it drew them together. Like fireflies around a flame.
The day turned to night, and one of the maikos announced with some concern, the arrival of Yukino's best client. Alone. Yukino went down to meet him in one of the rooms, nonetheless.
"I did not get a chance to congratulate you on a beautiful performance yesterday," Kinomoto smiled at her. She bowed her thanks.
The man allowed her to serve the sake and return to her seat before he spoke again.
"I have spoken with your headmaster. How would you like to have a patron?"
She almost dropped the sake cup she held. The time had come! A patron! A handsome, generous man will be her patron!
However, the sight of Mayo's sore arms and the words from Shichiroji's warnings resurfaced.
"Does the idea please you?" the man prodded her out of her thoughts.
"Yes, it does, thank you," she said with a trained voice as she bowed.
"Good, good!" He smiled a half-frightening smile.
He stepped out for a moment, told a man outside to leave him, then returned with a large lacquer box. The box used for kimono. "This is in honor of your performance yesterday, and our future relationship."
She accepted the box and bowed until her nose reached the floor, to show her deep appreciation. The box itself already looked expensive.
"Try it on, my dear lady."
"I will, at next week's performance, I hope you would come," she promised.
"No, no, my dear. I want to see it on you right now."
"But, Kinomoto-san, kimono are hard to wear, and I must take better care of this one."
"You do not understand." The man was raising the tone of his voice. "You made me wait so long to see the first one. I want to see this one on you right now." The man moved to her side of the table.
Yukino began to get nervous. "If that is your wish. I will send for the woman who assists me."
"Why don't you let me assist you?" Kinomoto moved to her back, and began to quickly undo the obi.
It was too fast for comfort. "NO."
"No woman should go against my wishes, dear lady," the man said with ice, as he continued to loosen the obi.
"I will be the first woman to refuse you, then," she said, shaking terribly.
Kinomoto had the obi free. He twisted her around to face him, and opened up the topmost layer of the kimono.
"NO. Please, Kinomoto-san."
"You will not make me wait again, snow flower." He took off and pulled down the top layer with too much strength. She realized with fright that he was used to doing this, probably to women of lower class than she. But he knew what he was doing and she knew what it would lead to. She did not want it. Not with him. Not like this. Not this way.
Things were getting incredibly out of hand, out of her control. She did not want to do this, no, no! She had to call out, shout out. And there was only one name she could think of just then. "—ROJI!"
Her mouth was immediately covered by the man on top of her, as she continued to fidget. "So that's the real name of the peach boy? He's an entertainer, too, so he should know about things like this, right?"
Yes, but this was not part of the bargain. The rest of her body was shutting down, numb with fright. She could not gain the strength to resist Kinomoto's powerful hands, as he quickly loosened her kimono and began revealing the layers of undergarment beneath. Shichiroji! She begged in her head. Hurry up, you idiot! Please!
"I want to know you, to feel you entirely," the man crooned with a sinister voice as he undid the laces of the final layer of clothes, the one next to her skin. "I want to know what I will be getting, before I become your patron."
Not like this, no! She mustered enough strength and bit the hand over her mouth. "—ROJI!" she called again.
"Stop that shouting!" Kinomoto raised a hand to strike her.
But the hand was held firmly and suddenly at midair. The arm was then twisted behind the man's back, and the rest of him was pushed to the floor from behind.
"I don't care who you are, or how rich you are," the rich baritone of her ward came with tremendous force. "You will treat our ladies with respect, or I will kick you out."
"Why you--" and the man turned over.
He quickly whisked out his sword and swiped at Shichiroji's neck. But this was blocked by his left mechanical arm, as he twisted and held the man down again with the right hand over the man's neck.
"Impossible!" Kinomoto choked from the grip. "What are you made of?"
"Mostly flesh and blood, and some steel," Shichiroji answered with a grin. Both of his hands were gloved, so it was not obvious which hand was no longer human.
"Maybe this will settle you!" Kinomoto fired a pistol at his abdomen and another at his left arm, as Yukino screamed again.
"You and the snow flower are the same," he smirked. "You take me too lightly." He blocked both bullets with the left arm, and finally knocked out Kinomoto with it.
With her attacker safely unconscious on the floor, Yukino covered up and looked up at her ward. It was now only sinking in that she had been saved in time. She wrapped herself around him, and let a few tears flow. She did not exactly care now if he felt a little of her body against his. He leaned on her shoulder, felt the contours of her back with his right hand, and held her close. He did this gently, tenderly.
Something was not right, though. He was panting more than he should, and she heard crackles from the half-useless metal arm beside her. "Are you alright?" was all she could think of to say.
He released her, coughed and held the side of his torso. "Maybe we can call back that surgeon fellow." He pulled off the glove over his left arm, and found the mechanical arm chipped in several places, with the wires inside sparking. "I've finally returned the favor."
She smiled back through the tears. "Now, I have to pay you back."
But any more conversation was cut short by the appearance of several other men into the room, concerned by the noises and shouting. The first to arrive stepped back a few steps as he found the man beside Yukino. He blinked a few times, then pointed.
"First lieutenant Shichiroji! I have found you!"
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For those who barely understood why Roji-san is generally called "Momotaro": There is a Japanese folk tale about a boy that came out of a large peach, who is then named Momotaro ("momo" is peach). The boy grows up to be strong samurai and a help to the community. Since the circumstances are quite similar, this prompted Heihachi to say it's much like the Momotaro story, and the nickname stuck among the seven and the farmers. But I figured that he had been called by that nickname even earlier, considering both his and Yukino's reactions when it was pointed out.
The next chapter will be the last, alright? Two things I never see myself doing for S7: writing long stuff, and writing for Kirara and Katsushiro (since that's an often-explored territory already). Sorry also if these chapters are short, but I can't seem to make them any longer without dragging things. This is much like "Tenshi" in that it was started on a long-processed idea but typed up in a whirl of inspiration, thus it's a rush job and not my best work. Sorry, I liked making Tenshi even as a rush job, that's why I keep mentioning it. By the way, individual replies will be coming shortly. I really still prefer the old way. In general, thanks for reviewing. See ya!