Elaborate costumes, ringing bells, high pitched voices and glancing eyes. It was suffocating and each step felt heavier than the last. But he was trained for this and here in this house, failures were not accepted. He dance to the music with elegance and poise, turning and twirling just as how he had rehearsed.

It was a sight for a Chusan to be performing in the front halls of the teahouse. One would need to pay an huge amount to watch a performance by a high ranked courtesan as himself and booked an appointment way earlier. The higher ranked ones would be Oiran, but those are mostly off-limits. That was why he could not fail. Each intricate move, each sway must be carefully made, carefully laid out for the guest's entertainment.

It was as if the air had stopped when the first beat of music echoed in the hall, replaced by the pleasant sound of music as he danced, not stopping until the last note of music was struct.

And the music was replaced by compliments and cheers, as their guests drink upon the magnificent show they had just witnessed. It was a large group and they chatted among each other and flirted with the Tsukemawashi that served them. Some of their hands had swayed too, lingering on the chusan, too close for comfort.

The courtesan that were dancing earlier bowed and excused himself, having done his duty for the night. They hardly bothered, as they knew that they could not afford anymore from such a high ranked prostitute.

Yes, that was what they were.

Prostitutes.

Oiran, Chusan, Tsukemawashi, they were just flowery names that they called them to hide the disgusting fact that they sold their body for a living, here in this huge teahouse….no, a brothel.

The Honnou-ji Temple.

An irony that a brothel would brandish the name of a sacred place, a temple where one dedicate prayers and worship. Here, the only worship they get are the lustful eyes and the gold they pay for the company of pleasure. The Honnou-ji temple was a well known teahouse that offered both female and male prostitutes. Many would flocked the place not only for entertainment and pleasure, but also for the peculiarity of having male prostitutes as company.

It was sickening, disgusting, and he was part of it all.

"Tori?" Someone called. Yes, his name here was Tori, a name he use to mask his identity, or perhaps his last shield against his lost pride. At least he kept his original name, that no one would contaminate it further. His last pride as Souza Samonji.

"Yes?" He muttered. He had just left the hall, followed by his entourage. A courtesan usually had two accompanying attendants depending on their ranks. For Souza, he only kept a pair of attendants around him.

Heshikiri Hasebe was the one who had called out to him. Being a Yarite, his task is to overlook the activities of the teahouse and maintain the place. "Your appointment tonight was canceled," he informed him. "Why don't you join the others at the lattice?"

Souza shifted a little. Even though Hasebe had sounded like he was suggesting it, one would usually not go against his suggestions. They had no right to. "Of course," Souza turn away "After I get rid of this ridiculous robes first,"

"Wait," Hasebe called after him, making him paused in his track. He turn slightly, glancing at the Yarite. "Have you seen Yuri?" He asked "I can't find him in the house."

Souza chuckled. Hachisuka Koutetsu, while being a high ranked Oiran had always been quite a free spirit. One would not easily confine him to the walls of the teahouse.

"You should check the streets," Souza replied "He may be enjoying one of his parades again…"

True enough, Hachisuka Koutetsu, or Yuri was enjoying a parade down the red light district. Usually, a courtesan is confined to the walls of their tea-house but it was different for a high ranked Oiran like Hachisuka. He walked down the streets with confidence, flaunting his golden Furisode with pride. As an Oiran, he could choose his customers and to be noticed by him would mean a long ceremony the man had to go through in order to please him.

He had only returned to the tea house after enjoying a night in the streets, catching Souza's eyes at the front lattice. Ignoring Hasebe's nags at the front door, he made his way to Souza, his long robes brushing past the other courtesans in the room. They called him out for it, but he didn't care. He didn't stop until he reached Souza, settling himself down with elegance as he usually do. His shooed his entourage away, which consist of a male and a female Shinzo and his two attendants.

Souza barely glanced at him, keeping his eyes out at the streets in front of them. It was night and the streets were illuminated by an orange glow from the lanterns that lined the streets. Save for the bustling activities of the red light district, it was quite a peaceful sight and Souza was enjoying some good alone time.

"Wouldn't it be bad that an Oiran like you is out on the lattice?" Souza asked, turning to the courtesan slowly. The Oiran pulled out a fan and shook his head slightly, looking up at the man. "I am an Oiran, I can do what I like,"

That wasn't really true, at least not for the general rule of Oiran, but Hachisuka had always kept his own set of rules and ignored the actual ones. How he had got to the rank was also another question left unanswered.

Souza eyed the streets again. Already, many onlookers were gathered, noting their presence there. Souza and Hachisuka….no, Tori and Yuri were well known in the red-light district, besides, it's a rare sight for a Yobidashi Chusan and an Oiran to be on the lattice.

"Hasebe is fuming," Hachisuka chuckled, looking back into the hall where Hasebe is still handling a bunch of customers that were pouring in. The Yarite had been throwing him glances as if to urge him to get away from the lattice but Hachisuka wasn't about to obey him at this moment.

Souza however, wasn't even listening to him. Someone in the crowd had caught his attention.

His eyes had met with someone in the street. He wore western-ish clothes, which were a little peculiar, considering how the borders were shut off to foreigners. He was no more than 18 and had a small figure compared to the rest of the men on the street.

Souza couldn't tear his eyes off him. There was something about him...that was rather familiar.

"Tori?" Someone called. "Tori...Tori...Tori!" Perfectly manicured fingers snapped in front of him, breaking his span of attention. "What-Oh...Yuri...sorry, I wasn't listening." Souza finally answered, blinking a few times with surprise "Did you say something?"

"Did you see someone?" Hachisuka frowned, looking back into the streets where Souza was staring at. Souza turn back, but the boy was gone. He shook his head slightly, wondering if he had imagined it.

"Nii-sama," Someone called and Souza turn to see his attendant looking at him worriedly. "It's nothing, I just thought I saw someone familiar," He replied reassuringly. Not many knew this, but one of his attendant, Sayo Samonji is his little brother. Although Souza had not shown any effort to hide this fact, the two could easily sense something wrong about each other in mere seconds. Perhaps, one would argue is the bonds of siblings at work.

"Don't overdo yourself!" Hachisuka patted him on the shoulder, getting up to his feet "Now, I think I got a group of customers waiting,"

"You are the one overdoing yourself, Yuri," Souza look up at him "Hasebe has been complaining that you are even taking customers as you wish without his approval,"

Yuri grinned, tapping his hand fan on his cheek. "Anything to rake in the money." He replied with a wink and turn away, his robes once again drawing protests from those on the floor when it brushed against them.

It's not like they can say anything, one usually don't go against an Oiran.

"He's so proud," A girl mentioned behind Souza, correcting her own gown and hair. They nudge over to Souza, surrounding him with a string of chatter. "I wonder what he did to get to that rank, it wasn't very long when Yuri and Tori arrived here I heard," The courtesan who said that was new but is already bold enough to run her mouth off.

"Tori-sama, you should already be given the status of Oiran by now, with your popularity…" Another whispered. "...and your experience here."

Souza glanced at them momentarily but made no effort to answer. He and Hachisuka had arrived here longer than most of them in this teahouse. Mortality rate here is rather low, what with the people either getting diseases or dying due to failed abortions. Some were lucky enough to be bought over by rich patrons but not many were that lucky.

Here, Yuri and Tori were considered the seniors already.

"Rankings...doesn't matter." Souza mumbled. He didn't care. They were all the same, the guests, the ones paroling the streets outside...the ones sitting in this room, they were all the same, like him. Trapped in this rotten trade where humiliation and pride means nothing.

He got up, both his attendants doing the same and left the room. He could not stand the suffocating air any longer.

The courtesans in that room were all rather new. If they don't get customers, they would have nothing left for them. No food, no place to rest, no roof over their heads. The people in there might be brandishing smiles and chattering about with each other, commenting about their clothes, complimenting their looks….but in truth, everyone would step on each other if need be to survive in this place.

"Tori," Hasebe turn to him just as he left the hall. "You have a guest."

It was a cage for them, an elaborate cage that housed rotting flesh.

And Souza was the Tori, the bird trapped in it.

I'm back with another story. This actually bloomed in my head in the midst of writing Cradle of Lies and I couldn't get rid of it. i actually finished the entire series already and will slowly update them here. The topic of old Japanese prostitution is quite hard to understand, though I made sure to research as much as I could before writing, I know there are probably alot of things written wrong and also that I'm merely just scratching the surface of it. Thank you for bearing with me. I'll do my best to keep updating. Thanks!