Chapter 33.

I apologize for any typos. I have new glasses and usually when I am writing, I am not wearing them. Defeats the purpose, I know. I also see this weird spacing of the doc format online. I will do my best to make it look more normal. Reviews are always welcome!

For once the war proved a convenience to me. The moment I struggled out of the doctor's office, leaning heavily onto Mameha, an air bomb warning went off. Ordinarily, we would have sought refuge in the nearest bomb shelter. However, Mameha and I merely looked at each other and continued back to her apartment. The day's events proved catastrophic enough—I suppose we were both willing to take our chances in the open. Besides, the raid provided the perfect excuse to further absent me from the okiya. It was not uncommon to spend the night crouched in a bomb shelter these days.

I still could not be more grateful for Mameha's constant presence. Knowing as I did, the severity of the social taboo of Auntie's disease, which I now carried in my lungs, my older sister's unwillingness to leave my side through all of today's occurrences, was enough to bring tears to my eyes. Fortunately for me, I was too weary in soul and body to cry about such things now. Later perhaps, but not now.

Strangely, I was a little buoyant in my heart. Maybe it was because I had not yet internalized the consequences of my diagnoses. Mameha and I had gone to the doctor so that I did not have to carry Tanaka's child. It struck me as bitterly funny that Nobu-san might see me die after all. Still, he would not have to see me heavy with another man's child. I smothered my instinct to laugh. Mameha looked strained to the breaking point. My laughter would no doubt cause her to think I had come completely unhinged.

"Are you alright, Sayuri? Mameha asked me gently. We just passed another corner. There was still some distance to go before we reached Mameha's apartment.

"A little cramping and soreness," I explained to her, "Hardly anything like I had expected. Thank you, One-san for being with me. I doubt I would have had the courage to get on the table." Although I had tried to sound confident and a little cheerful, Mameha bit her lip and looked troubled.

"It's not far from my apartment" she said. I nodded, determinedly ignoring the heaviness I felt from the cloth put between my legs. Having gone through this before, I was certain Mameha had extra rags for my use.

"It doesn't look like anything has caught fire, here" I observed, trying to make conversation for conversation's sake.

"Oh, yes." Mameha finally looked at her surroundings instead of me. "How odd. You would think that a building, or at least two would have caught fire." The noise above was almost deafening. You had to speak very clearly to be heard.

"I don't know if its because I carry so much water" I said, now a little breathlessly, "But we have been extremely fortunate. Our okiya has not caught fire once. Although Mother sent all our best kimono to the country side."

"Mother is a very far-sighted woman, "Mameha acknowledged. "I have no doubt that she will survive this war and come out on top." Mameha looked uneasy, as if the mention of the future, any future, was an insult to my current longevity. I would have reassured her if I had the extra breath. Although Mameha was considerate of my current physical state, both of us were doing our best to hurry back to Mameha's apartment.

It was not a bomb shelter, but it was undeniably better than standing in the streets, looking like fools.

"We are almost there" Mameha reassured me again. I was grateful that Mameha lived alone. She did not even have a maid that could have gone tattling and spreading stories.

"Here we are!" Mameha said. She glanced upwards, checking the sky before she leaned down to help me with my rough straw sandals. I thanked her and leaned against the doorway, waiting as Mameha quickly took off her shoes.

Grabbing my arm once again, Mameha guided me carefully through the dark hallway to her apartment. It was a good thing we both knew the way by heart.

Once inside, she led gently to her bed and forced me to sit, while she rummaged for a candle.

"I have a new one somewhere!" she said fretfully, going through her closet in darkness. "I should have thought of this before we left."

"I'm sure we can manage with any light, One-san," I calmed her. Mameha pulled out a candle that looked like it had burned half way through the wax.

"This will have to do" she murmured sadly. "No tea, and now hardly any candles! What are we to do without next, I wonder?"

"Pray its not water" I murmured, wincing as my stomach began to cramp in earnest. Mameha set the small candle next to a table near her futon.

"Poor girl," Mameha murmured, examining my face. "The first day is the worst, I'm afraid. But at least I had the foresight to prepare extra rags." Gently she lifted me to my unsteady feet and guided me to the toilet. Thankfully it was not far from her bedroom.

Although dizzy and a little faint from the chloroform, pride kept me from having Mameha help me with the rags. She silently gave me a paper bag to throw the old ones in, saying that she would burn them later.

"I can still hear the alarms going off" Mameha said, guiding me back to the bed. "You can always tell Mother you were caught in a shelter. Goodness, we have been gone for hours!"

"Thank you, One-san" I said to Mameha again. It seemed that I could not thank her enough for what she had done for me today.

Mameha shrugged lightly and adjusted the small candle so that it stood nearer to us.

"I had an older sister, once" she explained, attempting to pile bedding behind my back. Somehow lying down made everything worse. "I believe I was younger than you when I had my first procedure." Her hands were gentle as she arranged her bedding behind me.

"The Baron paid for it, of course." Mameha had a strange look in her eye as she remembered her younger self.

"Did your older sister take you as well?"

"No." Mameha frowned. "She was a good older sister and had done her duty in explaining everything beforehand, but I really did not know what to expect. But of course, this was before the war and I had a driver to take me home."

"How awful!" I exclaimed.

"Not really" Mameha said. "I was really quite pampered once I had the Baron as my Danna. But looking back on it now, no woman can really expect to know what will happen." She patted my knee gently.

"It was beyond fortunate the doctor had chloroform. This is why I picked that particular doctor, dirty coat or not. I always had chloroform for my procedures. Some girls only have herbs to rely on. I really cannot imagine…" Mameha shook her head at the unpleasant thought.

"I'm a fortunate girl, indeed" I said, recalling the doctor's words to me before I drifted off into oblivion.

"Geisha are not wives" Mameha said, "But I think we at least deserve to be free of some suffering." She smiled sadly at me.

"Sayuri-san, I will always strive my best to be the best older sister to you," Mameha promised me in the semi-darkness of her bedroom. "You don't have to worry about me being afraid of catching…" she paused delicately "…anything."

"Mameha, you must take some precautions. If something were to happen to you, I could never forgive myself."

Mameha shook her head. "Plenty of women, unknown to the public of course, have it in my factory."

"Mameha, I live with Auntie" I reminded her.

"I know this! Do you think I'm a complete fool?" Mameha sucked in an angry breath. "Mrs. Nitta may have thought she fooled the entire neighborhood, but really! Did she think I plucked out my brains with my shamisen strings?" Mameha struggled to calm herself. Her beautiful oval face was flushed with anger.

"Mameha, as my older sister, please tell me the truth," I pleaded with her. "What do you think will happen to me?"

Mameha's face had the uncanny ability to still look beautiful in its perfection, even when she was sorrowful.

"I have never lied to you, have I, Sayuri-san?" Mameha asked me in the semi-dark room.

"Never."

"Perhaps I should have. I could have protected you more."

"Please, Mameha-san, the doctor would only promise me medicine—not a cure."

"I'm afraid I don't have a cure to offer you, Sayuri-san."

"Mameha, I know that." I could feel pools of wetness gather in my eyes, but if I cried, I feared that I would never stop crying. I looked at the wall.

"Will it be painful?" I forced out.

"It really depends on the person, Sayuri-san." Mameha said in a dull voice. "I knew several girls, even before the war." The small candle flickered. "However, once it became impossible to hide, the mother of my okiya and then the Baron forbade me from having anything to do with them."

"So, they died" I said, without any question in my voice. Mameha gave a delicate shrug.

"For certain, some of them did, right away. But those with wealthy Dannas simply disappeared, I imagine to warmer climates."

I thought of a clock ticking away somewhere beneath the folds of my skin, taking measure of the time I had left. I always did have an overactive imagination. In the best and the worst of times.

"I'm no doctor, Sayuri, but some people live with the disease for years."

"But Auntie…" I began defeatedly.

"She is old" Mameha said stoutly. "She was never very strong to begin with, if I recall correctly."

"You cannot think this way" Mameha said, arranging the folds of bedding behind me again. "You have to live your life as only you can, Sayuri-san."

"A life measured in seconds," I murmured.

"With this war, we are all living on borrowed time" Mameha reminded me. "Who knows when a bomb will hit a person simply walking in the streets?"

When she appeared somewhat satisfied with the arrangement of the bedding, Mameha's face became completely blank.

"You need to tell Mother about your condition and then you need to adopt Hatsumomo's child as your own."

"Mameha!" I exclaimed, shocked that she could say such a thing.

"Do you want to continue to live as the daughter of the Nitta okiya?" Mameha shook her head. "Mother and Auntie are already bound for life, but your grasp in that household is weak now, surely you can see that?"

"You want me to adopt the Chairman and Hatsumomo's bastard child?" I said icily, recalling the lies that Nobu-san had made to protect the reputation of the Chairman.

"A girl child can become another heir, Sayuri. A boy certainly can't inherit the Nitta okiya." Mameha was always practical. Always.

"Will that She-Wolf even allow it?" Hatsumomo was always greedy and grasping. How could she permit herself to give her child away without some gain? I quickly thought of how my sister and I were sold, probably at some measly price by our own blood father. I brushed that thought away quicker than it came to mind. Dwelling on that betrayal did me no good in my current predicament.

"Tell Mother to send just enough money for the child to come, perhaps accompanied by one of Arashino's daughters, or even his wife, if she can be spared. They will be glad of one less mouth to feed. Tell Mother to write to Hatsummomo that she will raise the child to become a maid in the Nitta okiya in exchange for forgiving Hatsumomo's debts."

"There is a war going on, I hardly doubt that Hatsumomo is thinking of her debts" I retorted.

"Perhaps, but that woman always had an eye on advancing her own future. With Iwamura Electric in shambles, I don't expect the Chairman to be contributing his promised share at the moment, or ever really."

"Sayuri-san, you must remember that this child is not a son" Mameha said forcefully. The small candle flickered as a distant bomb went off. Neither of us startled.

"You were not born to this world of ours, so I take it upon myself to remind you again of the importance of successors to an okiya Before the war, you were among the top-most sought-after geisha."

For the first time that day, Mameha gave a true smile. "I made sure of that. Some older sisters jealously guard their status, but I was not so foolish as that."

"You're too kind to me, One-san." I could hardly imagine myself being a threat to Mameha-san's beautiful perfection.

"I hate to see potential go to waste. Remember the painter, Waa-san?" Mameha gave a small laugh. I was relieved that she could still laugh after everything that had happened today. "He was so impossible, but a true genius when it came to his art."

"As soon as I saw you in my kimono, I knew he had the potential to make you shine brighter than the sun. Your fame started then." Mameha sighed happily.

"Mother would only be too happy to have the child passed off as your child. I made sure you made a mark on this world of ours, even before the war."

"I'm so humbled" I told Mameha. She simply nodded.

"Remember, Mother never wanted binding ties with Hatsumomo. Even before I bothered myself to become involved." Mameha laid a gentle hand on my cheek.

"I always told you that your eyes were unusual."

If I had the extra blood in my body, I would have blushed. Although death had knocked on the door and made its presence known in my life today, I felt a small light of hope began to grow.

"It would not matter if the child had your eyes or not" Mameha said. "It's enough that you accepted it as your own. Hatsumomo went into decline long before she became pregnant with the Chairman's child." My face must have darkened again, unhappy with the memories of Nobu-san going above and beyond to protect the Chairman and his reputation.

"I'm giving you a way to survive, Sayuri" Mameha warned gently.

"I understand that One-san. I apologize for my slowness of mind. Please forgive me for doubting your good intentions." Suddenly, I gasped.

"Are you in pain, Sayuri?" Mameha said, alarmed.

"Nobu-san" I breathed.

"What about Nobu-san? Are you bleeding heavily?" Mameha began to fuss over me, pinching my cheeks to see if any color came back.

"No, Mameha, Nobu-san!" I said again. I could feel my lower stomach cramping heavily as I shivered agitatedly.

"What of him?" Mameha asked exasperatedly. "Your color is getting worse, Sayuri-san, and you know there's way we can get a doctor here!" Mameha leaned closer and was examining my eyes, lifting the eyelids.

"What if he thinks the child is his?" I said at last. Mameha stopped her fussing and closed her eyes.

"What Nobu-san thinks does not matter at this point, Sayuri. Nobu-san is not here."

"That could change" I whimpered.

"And then what?" Mameha demanded. She was now checking around the bed to see if I had bled through the rags. When she was reassured that I was not bleeding to death, she forced her oval face into a mask of calm seriousness.

"It is time to face facts, Sayuri, Nobu-san is not here. Neither does he have any say in this matter."

"But…" I began but Mameha raised her eyes and the small candle flickered in earnest.

"But nothing" Mameha said angrily. The small candle flickered wearily. "He's not here, Sayuri. Accept what is in front of you. If anything, he perpetuated this path for you."

Mameha pressed her lips together. I recognized that she was trying her best to not reprimand me but was losing the war with her patience.

"Have I taught you nothing, Sayuri? Have I failed you as your older sister?"

"Mameha-san, you know that's not true…"

"Then understand what I am telling you. Geisha are not wives. We do not become geisha because we want to, it was a path forced onto us. I understand that you have great affection for Nobu-san, I really admire you for recognizing that Nobu-san is a good man. Believe me, I had hoped you would come to understand his good qualities. Not everyone is so fortunate in their danna."

Mameha took a deep breath.

I remained silent. Clearly Mameha was not done.

"But we are alone in this world" Mameha said. "As geisha, we are alone in this world."

"You have me as an older sister" Mameha said, "For the moment, you are the heir to the Nitta okiya, but you're alone, Sayuri. Nobu Toshikazu is not your husband and you are not his wife. The bond of a danna and a geisha is as fragile as dry willow twig. It is easily broken."

"Mameha, I know this. All of it. While Tanaka was undoing my obi, I kept thinking to myself that Nobu-san was not my husband!"

At last, the dams had broken and tears were streaming down my face. "I just thought…" I couldn't finish as I caught myself on a sob.

At once I felt Mameha's arms encircle me gently. I could not remember anyone holding me this way since my mother was alive.

"I never meant for this to happen" she whispered to me frantically. I nodded my sobs onto her shoulder.

"I always thought it was the Chairman you cared for," Mameha murmured, gently stroking my hair. "Poor child, poor child, if I knew, I would have never…"

"I never knew" I gasped. My heart constricted painfully—as painfully as my lower stomach cramped. The small candle gave one last brave flicker and suddenly we were alone in the darkness.

"Everything was for Nobu-san" I whispered painfully, knowing Mameha heard me. "Everything was always for Nobu-san."