Revamped: 7/2/2023-
"Couldn't those damn servants bring me here later?" Ume's narrowed eyes scoured the four wooden walls of the lion's den; encompassed by the intimidating atmosphere of the Demon Slayers and the sun and her growing exhaustion.
As time passed, Ume listened to the air hummed and vibrated with a cacophonous tangle of conversation. Unfamiliar female voices and footsteps echoed along the wooden flooring and nearing her room. They all carried this palpable air of dejection hanging around them, scattering around the house as if their lives depended on it.
Here and there, Ume would catch small snippets of voices emanating through the door.
"Zentisu—has finally fallen asleep. His condition is improving, but he needs plenty of rest."
"Inosuke—is resting—the poison has been removed…."
"Lord Uzui—he is stable, but unfortunately he is partially blinded and there is no sign of his missing hand."
Upon hearing that, Ume found herself smiling for the first time. That's what he deserves. There was no doubt in her mind that Big Brother would ruin that ugly bastard. Though the Hashira wasn't dead alongside the other two, he was thankfully severely handicapped.
Ume cringed at the thought of him. That broad-shouldered, flamboyant Hashira with the thin, maroon eyes. There was something about him that reminded Ume of a wild beast. Gyutaro took very good care of him for her and she was very grateful to him. She couldn't help but recall how Hashira dared to behead her and accuse her of not being an Upper Moon. Just thinking about it made Ume see red. Those who turned their noses up to Daki in that manner always paid the price for their actions.
"Tanjiro…"
As quickly as the smirk came to her face it vanished, and Ume felt fear take hold, her body straightening like a pole.
"How is he?"
"He's in severe shape. His breathing remains inadequate, and his heartbeat has yet to stabilize. There is an emergency need for epinephrine...and he requires additional morphine, stitches, and medications…Lady Kocho-sama had said that his injuries were incredibly severe and it was by the devil's luck that he's still alive..but she is afraid that he may need to be medically induced into a coma."
A coma.
"Goddammit.." Ume dug her fingernails into her chest, clutching the area above her pounding heart.
No.
No, that's not what's supposed to happen. This is not how it's supposed to be.
And just when I came to a realization of why I'm here. No. He's the very person I need to atone for my sins.
No. He couldn't be dying. Not even before I could even start, dammit! Ume served a hard kick on the door so hard that it shuddered. "Dammit!" She hissed a breath through clenched teeth. But the strength left her, even as she attempted to kick the door again. She wanted to kick herself—no—this body for being so worthless. Ume wanted nothing more than to burst out of this stupid room.
Useless, she cursed herself inwardly, feeling a shadow of self-loathing penetrate her. What if I have blown my only chance to get back with Gyutaro? That slash I gave him. It must have done such a number on him. He could just drop dead at any moment.
For a moment, her eyes flickered from her red-white sash and to the door over and over. She felt the burning urge to send one of her obi to the medical room to help stop the bleeding, just as she did twice before now. But if she did so, her obi wouldn't even make it far once it was exposed to sunlight. Not only that, but Ume had no way of knowing what terrible state Tanjiro was in. He needed far more than just some fabric. Ume sighed in defeat. As far as she was concerned, she had no other choice but to wait and hope that the staff here knows how to do their job to the best of their ability.
For an extended period, it grew silent in the halls, with not a single sound being made, save for the quiet flurry of humans outside. She counted every second, twisting her fingers. She fumbled around the room.
Although Ume wasn't unfamiliar with waiting for the end of daylight, this place was completely different from her home. She had nowhere to retreat to. There was no secure underground shelter that she could slip to, no accessible attic that she could conceal herself within, not even a hollow hole in the walls. Nothing. She was truly trapped here.
"This place sucks. I don't even have a sense of privacy in this room. In fact, my only source of privacy is—"
Her thoughts stood still, her gaze drawn to the wooden box in the centre of the room. "That stupid little prison..." she snarled in a quiet voice, glaring daggers at it. Ume wanted to kick it across the room to smash it into pieces. But she decided to restrain herself.
It did belong to Tanjiro after all.
Her mind went to him carrying it on his back, envisioning the Accidental Demon inside, and she frowned.
Will I have to stay in that thing constantly?
Ume winced at the thought.
Perhaps the Accidental Demon enjoyed being confined in such a claustrophobic space, but Ume certainly did not. She hated the box she detested it to the very core. Even though she understood the box was meant to protect her, it still felt utterly degrading being constantly crammed into that thing.
Then another thought concerning Tanjiro struck her.
Will Tanjiro even carry me? Would he even want to carry me on his back? Ume remembered the last look Tanjiro gave her before he fainted. It was an expression that made her flinch. Although the exchange lasted only a few seconds, Ume's eyes showed her quite a bit about how the boy felt at that particular moment. He accused her. He didn't trust her. He didn't like her. He hated her.
For Ume, those sentiments weren't new. She and her brother had been hated by many for as long as she could remember. But when Tanjiro expressed them, it was different. His words were one of the rare moments that had paralyzed her to the ground and rendered her unable to even speak.
It hurt.
And Ume still didn't know why as she thought about it harder.
Will Tanjiro even tolerate me with that much anger? Ume hurriedly pushed that thought from her mind before she allowed the fear that Tanjiro might reject her assistance to creep in.
What does it matter if he hates you? It doesn't change anything. The way he feels is irrelevant. You're not here to be his dearest companion. This is for you. You know how every way in the book to persuade anyone to do whatever you want. Either with that sugary sweet charm or by harsh discipline. Everything will turn out in my direction. I will make sure of it.
Intuitively, Ume knew she needed to think optimistically and not let her negative feelings cloud her judgment. Besides, there was no need to worry.
"This whole thing is going to be a breeze," Ume said with a smile breezing across her face, her hands met the edge of her hips. She was already one step ahead of the game, knowing exactly what to expect from Tanjiro. Although he was an odd character to her, he is still a human. That was one of the things she knew with certainty when it came to him. Humans are simple creatures with simple desires. And Ume had centuries of experience to know what those desires are. She had encountered thousands of Demon Slayers, each with their own unique background and story, yet all united to one singular desire.
Power.
Gyutaro once said that power goes by many names and has many meanings, but it is still the same thing. All humans are driven by a desire for it. Whether it's to trample over the weak, gain glory and fortune, live amongst the elite, preserve the lives of those less fortunate, make things happen to their advantage, to control their own destiny—all humans strive for the same thing all the same.
So naturally, Tanjiro will only be satisfied until he receives the full, intoxicating taste of power that only a demon could know.
A wry smirk crept up on Ume's lips. "Piece of cake."
Yet the mental image of Tanjiro's scarlet mist flashed through her mind and dissolved her smile. None of her assurances could wash away the torrent of dread drowning her mind.
Ume released a long, audible sigh.
Even after her revelation, there were many things that she needed to consider before she could move forward. It was still difficult to try to piece together the fragments of the ridiculous puzzle of all that had happened. And time wasn't alleviating her predicament. In fact, it only made it harder with each passing second, with every passing minute that separated her from who she was and dragged her deeper into this endless abyss of uncertainty.
Ume felt weak. Mentally. Emotionally. Physically. It was as though she was being pulled down by the persistent fatigue plaguing her new body, every fiber within her almost imploring her to throw in the towel. And with every passing second, Ume could feel her willpower falling out like the shards of a shattered mirror. The exhaustion she felt was gradual, but it was coaxing her to fall deeper into it.
o o o —(O)— o o o
Stay conscious. Stay conscious. Stay conscious. Stay conscious. Stay conscious. Stay conscious. Stay conscious. Stay conscious.
A second, ten seconds, a minute, a month, a year—Ume didn't know how much time had passed. The overbearing exhaustion seemed to overwhelm everything. There seemed to be no escaping it; the past hours began to catch up with Ume all at once, and despite her best efforts, she began to nod off. With every beat of her heart, she felt her eyelids becoming heavier and heavier.
Her body felt like stone. Her breath came in short, strangled gasps that didn't take in much of the still, silent air. She couldn't tell if it was her anxiety or if the thinning atmosphere was closing in on her. Ume imagined herself being physically crushed by the room itself, picturing herself suffocating as the world closed in on her. Soon, Ume began to lose track of which sensations were real and which she was willing into existence. She was losing track of her body.
For a moment, Ume found herself thinking of the Accidental Demon, wondering if this is exactly how the Accidental Demon feels daily. This was her body, after all, so she had to experience this chronic spell of enervation. Did she feel as helpless as Ume felt now, or did she feel prepared? Ume wondered how long the Accidental Demon spent resisting, thrashing around, trying to fight back against the crushing force of fatigue.
Just let it happen, A small part of her mind reasoned. If I just let myself fall, I'll awake the moment the moon appears….
But the Ume's part of her shot out her arm and stabbed her nails into her skin. She pinched herself as hard as she could. The wound healed as it always did, but each pinch sheeted a hot intensity rippling through her arm. Fresh blood oozed out and Ume watched it trickle down her forearm like dark raindrops that easily blended into the shadows.
Ume continued pinching herself, trying to stay conscious for as long as she could tolerate, but slowly her mind began to slip. The walls of the room started to evaporate. It didn't take long for her imagination to disappear down, plunging further into the darkness with each second, listening to untold things move around her perilously through the flickering blackness.
With a deep breath, Ume felt her legs stumbling further into the darkness, her eyes shut instinctively tightly, hoping to adjust to the lack of visual stimuli and orient herself in the darkening space.
Then it happened.
It only took a single second, where the sweat from the pain stung her eyes and forced her to blink, and the gravity of everything slammed into her like a hard shove to the back. Ume opened her mouth to scream as if it would help, but it felt as though her mouth was crammed with rushing water. She was drowning, being forced downwards by something intangible.
What is happening? Ume thought, but the force only answered back with more pain. The invisible liquid plugged her ears, her nose, and finally her eyes. She tried to scream, not for help, but out of instinctual panic.
The temperature of the room seemed to rise; the heat struck her in her core. The wetness from her sweat clung to every tangible part of her body. Even parts of her clothing beneath her were becoming sticky with sweat. Everything felt so hot, so unbearably hot. She could feel it. The same burning in her chest she felt back in Limbo. It clawed into her heart as the blazing fire spread throughout her entire body. Her world began to melt away. She felt herself being sucked into a dark abyss. She was blind, immersed in a chasm of black.
Ume felt her body go rigid as an overwhelming pain overcame her. It was if needles were pricking her brain. She clenched her teeth and let out a groan of anguish, collapsing to the ground on her knees, unable to withstand the pain.
Shit…not this again…..
Unable to help it, her mind cycled through its frames with another flashing succession of images from someone else's point of view. Strange images that didn't belong to her. Series of images that she could not make sense of.
An ugly, gaunt man in a grand room speaking to a crow before coughing up blood. A small white-haired woman clung to him as he coughed out rubies that flashed like fire in the candlelight.
A wooden cabinet full of beautifully handcrafted kitsune masks.
A dense forest, one bigger than the outskirts beyond Yoshiwara. The trees hid the sun and clouds, shrouding the environment in the gloom, the forest floor beneath the owner's feet was black and treacherous.
An elderly man cladded with a cloud-patterned jinbei kimono and a red tengu mask that covers his entire face.
A burning village roasting underneath the stormy skies. A flock of large creatures took wing, breathing shadow fire.…
A dark footpath above a darkling stream of stars. The faint moon cast a translucent glow on a brilliant flower bed of Red Spider Lilies.
An inferno of dark flames swept through the world, and the loud, anguish-filled wail of the memory's owner burned alive with outstretched bloodied hands.
A dying man crushed under an immense rubble of wood, coughing splatters of scarlet into Tanjiro's face. Eyes bright in his dead face, blue lips smiling peacefully in death.
A crown of roses, red as blood.
A world of mist blurring before the owner's eyes. Colors of red. Colors of blue. Colors of yellow. The core of a rainbow blemished her eyesight.
And finally…came an odd image that didn't resemble a memory. Ume felt herself looking down at a world of shimmering blackness. The memory owner—the Accidental Demon—slumbering soundly on a bed of glowing scarlet vines.
Then vines came to Ume. They coiled around her body from every conceivable angle, the thorns piercing her flesh like poisoned nails that brought with them an indescribable pain that Ume couldn't even scream from. The thorns hooked round her beautiful face and slashed, with the savage cruelty of Kaoruko. A red tide flowed down her left eye before bursting into colourful flames of the rainbow through the blackness. The flames were so beautiful, it was the loveliest thing she had ever seen, each one flame flowing like water in yellow, purple, green, blue, orange, and scarlet, swirling long smoky cloaks.
o o o —(O)— o o o
And then she opened her eyes to see somewhere else.
Ume shook her head, taking a few seconds to orient herself to her new surroundings.
Am I still dreaming? I have to be dreaming. This has to be a dream.
Her body trembled.
Impossible…
Everything was so sharp. Too sharp to be a dream. The colour of the sky was an ominous black with storm clouds laden and filled with tendrils of stygian lightning.
Everything smelled of blood and ashes.
Where am I?
Ume whirled around, hoping to make sense of her surroundings. She was alone on a waterlogged road in a village underneath the stormy skies. The houses of the village were made from wood and clay, their designs similar to the houses that she was familiar with during her human years within Yoshiwara. But the village appeared devastated. Half of the village was reduced to nothing but hollow shells of blackened wood. Here and there, she could see several torn corpses roasted on the road. In some places, wisps of pale smoke still rose from the ashes.
It was as if the scene of a great battle took place here.
Ume was struggling to process everything. Everything felt so cold, even her thick fear chilled her entire body. What the hell was happening?
All she could think was retreating, running far away with her tail tucked between her legs like a coward, and straight to her big brother. It wasn't safe here.
Before she could react, Ume froze in place when she saw the mist blowing past her again.
A trail of mist appeared in front of her—it was red. A clear, refreshing burgundy flowing steadily like a river—even with the accumulated white mist, it was so distinct that Ume found herself following it without a single thought.
She walked further into the ruins of the village; past heaps of burnt rubble where houses had fallen in, and elsewhere saw the faded scars of fire. Death littered the ground and she couldn't keep her eyes off of them. Throat and chest had been torn apart, and glistening red entrails and ribbons of ragged flesh dangled from where the belly had been opened. One arm had been ripped right off the shoulder; Ume saw the bones a few feet away, gnawed and cracked, picked clean of meat. Corpses all, so savaged and torn apart that it took her a moment to realise they had been stripped before they were half-eaten by a demon.
Upon looking at it, Ume felt a slick fear filling in her stomach without reason. She hated the feeling, making herself look at the next man and the beyond him and the one beyond him, telling herself she was hard as a stone.
It wasn't long before Ume's gaze levelled down on Tanjiro. He was at the edge of the slaughtered village. Crouched down, his back to her. He was adorned in the typical Demon Slayer attire, standing firm with the sturdy-looking wooden box hoisted on his back.
He turned to her and looked at her and smiled. His red eyes had taken on a burn to them as he smiled, like a single flame lighting in the darkness of the night. His smile looked so genuine that Ume immediately felt the warmth radiating out from him like unseen rays of the sun, she felt like he was no closer than a distant star.
It was then that Tanjiro extended his callused hand to her, and Ume instinctively looked down at her hand—the Accidental Demon's hand that was grabbing it with her soft fingers, giving him a tight squeeze. She didn't know how long she had been on this path, how long she was holding onto Tanjiro's hand, but it felt gentle, light, soothing even — nothing that she had ever expected to come for this brat.
It was similar to the rushing warmth that Master Muzan would provide her whenever he stroked her head and touched her cheek. However, it felt somewhat different. All of her fear and anxiety and confusion seemed to be washed away, long forgotten and gone, and Ume found a strange sense of warming comfort.
Ume's eyes shot open with a startled gasp.
What the hell was that about? Why was she seeing Tanjiro out of all things now?
Her head pounded harder the more she thought about it.
Crap. That was no hallucination. That was a dream. The Accidental Demon sleeps. I actually slept and dreamed for the first time in in 126 years. And for some reason that was my very first dream?
Why is Tanjiro lurking within the parameters of her dreams now? Dream or not, the contents of it disturbed her. Even now, Ume still had no idea what all of these images meant.
Was this the divine who planted her into this body, trying to show her something new? Are they just trying to remind her of her purpose? It didn't make sense, so far all of the few instances of glimpses she experienced were fleeting images, lasting no more than a few seconds. The dreams felt so real, so vivid… almost as if she was there witnessing the scene herself...
What was it? She tried to think about it further, but her disoriented attention became snagged for a different reason.
The dancing mist flowed around her and blemished her eyesight. Vivid colours of burgundy, molten gold, and indigo-grey swirled around her body in a wild whirlwind.
Hastily, Ume rubbed her eyes with closed fists, only pausing for a few intermittent points to blink her eyelids a mile a minute to banish the colours away.
At first, she could hardly register the world around her, everything meshed together in a vivid blur. The more she tried, the more her head roared in pain. The colours and dark twisted and blended into buds of solid shapes of bluish and greyish and browns packed together, slowly materialising a form in front of her.
It was an IV-infused, bandaged arm lying on top of dark-blue bedding with five sets of smooth fingers intertwined with a set of five callused fingers. Her head rested on the side of the bed—one hand holding onto Tanjiro's hand, another clawing the fabric of the warm blanket.
Upon realising what she was doing, Ume instinctively snatched back her hands.
Hissing out a curse, Ume touched her head, her headache throbbing in even more intense waves. Soon she gave up trying to think any further and shifted her intrusive gaze around her unfamiliar surroundings.
It didn't take her long to realise that she was no longer in that room anymore. She was in a room of sorts. A big step up from that wisteria house they went to. The chamber was filled with luxurious furniture and it looked nothing more like a comfortable bedroom combined with a medical office. It was wide but compact with a row of twin-sized beds and wooden shelves of medical supplies.
Knelt at the bedside, Ume's delicate pink eyes adjusting to the milky streams of moonlight spilled through the three open windows in the bedchamber, filling the room with a sullen silver glare. The cold within was frigid.
She cast a fleeting glance at the two familiar Demon Slayers, Zenitsu and Inosuke, both soundly asleep in their respective beds close to the wide-open entrance door.
How did I end up here...
"Nez…"
A tiny voice intruded her mind, her train of frustrating thoughts halting upon the intrusion. Ume stiffened when she recognized the noise belonged to the sleeping boy beside her. Was he waking up? She stared at her and relaxed once she realised that Tanjiro was just sleep-talking. Ume watched his pale face twitch occasionally like he was having a bad nightmare.
Oddly, her fingers crept their way back to Tanjiro's palm and squeezed. She heard him mumble something incoherent before his whimpers finally died down and he slept comfortably.
A silence hung in the air as a new stillness filled the room. She held her gaze on him, seeing his chest rising and falling with each breath. She exhaled softly, a wave of relief washing over her.
Good, he's still here. I didn't get him killed either.
For a moment, Ume continued to gaze outside, her eyes observing far and wide the vast landscape beyond her confines. The cool crisp night air was refreshing, almost unclogging her difficulty in breathing. Drawn to the brief comfort, she walked towards the window and tilted her head upwards to gaze at the sky.
It was late.
The full moon glistened on the dark blue sky, a sombre theatre with shimmering stars, an endless black sky that seemed to spread out to infinity.
Quietness, peace, all forms of life; nothing but her and her endless thoughts.
The picturesque image of the beautiful starry night, the fresh and crisp air, the striking painting of flower beds and dark grass, the overwhelming moonlight, and the captivating feeling of beauty.
As Ume looked up at the tree branches of blooming cherry blossoms, it was easy to believe that the darkness was endless, that it went on forever.
She wanted this to go on forever…
The sweet, long night that Ume had grown to love so much and missed so dearly.
Strong winds began to pick up, rustling the trees near the window. The slender branches of Higan Cherry trees hang heavy, weighted down by cherry blossoms. The trees stood as ballet dancers, poised to show the world their grace, strength showing in how they remain so still in the seasonal gusts.
The raging winds cut through the long yard and the open window, sending slits of red and pink into her vision. Ume gave a start in shock, but she could almost immediately tell it was not the colours she had grown to dread.
It was petals.
Blood-red petals graced effortlessly through the strong current. She exhaled loudly, the wind picking up strands of her black locks and bringing along the faint scent of the wildflowers in the forest. "It's beautiful, right?" Ume whispered aloud, covertly hoping for a reply from another voice. The brilliant colour of blood, vibrant and glowing, the petals delicately flowing out from their stems and into the room.
From just looking at them, she could recognise the flowers quickly.
Red Spider Lilies.
In a heartbeat, the sight of them evoked a deluge of old memories playing through her mind.
Her thirteenth birthday. The early December night of a lively winter festival. She and Gyutaro were on top of the rooftop of the newly built Kyogoku House, the very House she aspired to work in one day. She was perched on Gyutaro's bony shoulders so she could have a better view of the night sky performing massive fireworks displays in the distance. Dazzling flowers of falling gold streak the starless skies.
Yoshiwara pulsed with life, dynamic with celebrations. From the rooftop, Ume could see the streets shining with gold. Colourfully painted floats milling down the glowing streets, lit up by the decorated lanterns of warriors shining brightly. Crowds of vigorous people huddled on the sidewalks, in bright colours, expensive finery, and jewellery beaming in the complete pink of health and it all made Ume sick to her stomach.
"Oi, Shiraume," Through the loud popping fireworks and music, the scratchy sound of her old nickname drew her gaze downward. "I got some of your presents for you,"
"Some?" Ume whispered in wonder, her green eyes blooming in excitement. "You got me more than one gift this year?"
"Yep, I got you three this year," Gyutaro confirmed it almost teasingly. He had his lopsided grin permeating off his face as he dug in his pants pocket and his bony hands materialized bright, crimson roses in full bloom intertwined with delicate greens weaved into a small, clumsy-looking circlet.
Eagerly, Ume hopped off of his shoulders and reached out her hand for it.
"Here, put it on your head." Gyutaro coaxed a reassuring smile, ruffling the long locks of her head.
With a swift motion, Ume delicately placed the intricately crafted circlet atop her head, positioning it as if it were a regal crown. The vibrant scarlet petals of the floral adornment harmonized seamlessly with her lustrous white locks and stunning emerald eyes. Even though she could not see herself at the moment, Ume couldn't help but beam with delight as she exclaimed, "I love it. I love it! This is so pretty, Big Brother!"
"It's a rose wreath," Gyutaro explained with a satisfied smile. "I think it's supposed to be some sort of symbol of love and adoration and beauty—"
"What's the second gift?" Ume demanded excitedly, unable to contain her curiosity. "Show me! Show me!"
There was a brief flash of annoyance on Gyutaro's expression before it melted away. "Fine, fine, alright, stop squealing." He still had his lopsided grin permeating off his face as his bony hands held up a handful of bright, crimson Red Spider Lilies in full bloom.
Ume gasped softly at the stunning sight.
"It's as radiant as you, don't you think—"
"Finally!" Ume wasn't listening at all. Her little hand snatched the flowers from Gyutaro's grip and held them to her face with a bright smile that reached ear to ear. The lovely flowers glowed with this ruby-coloured hue, the petals swaying in the gentle wind. These same lovely flowers that Ume insistently and (in hindsight, annoyingly) would beg him to get her whenever they passed Mr. Kanzaki's florist shop.
"You finally did it! I never thought you'd do it. Thank you, thank you! I love it! I love it!" Ume's voice was a joyful squeal that almost rivalled the booming fireworks that flooded the vivacious city. And so painfully loud that Gyutaro slammed his hands over his ears.
"Ah, shut up!… You are so annoying! Stop screeching, you're going to blow my ears off…Look, closer at it. There's something extra in it….and don't freak out when you see it."
Ume scrutinised closer at it and saw the white tip of a pointy end peeking through the clump of red. She carefully plucked out a bright red blossom hairpin.
"It's beautiful…" Ume breathed as she held it up. She didn't freak out when she saw it. She couldn't, because the splendor of it all took her breath away.
"Those two things will be your good luck charm for your big day soon."
"Good luck charm?" Ume raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean? What's happening soon?"
"Well, that is your third gift. You got a bunch of new clients for the next couple of weeks, but one, in particular, came to the brothel this morning. A celebrated samurai requested your service tomorrow. He's willing to pay a great fortune for just one night."
"A samurai, huh?" Ume inquired excitedly. "Does that mean I can afford to work in the Kyogoku House, and we'll be making even more money so we can buy a house!"
Gyutaro gave a grave nod. "Yes, so don't be uppity when you go to work tomorrow. He is a high-ranked customer, the biggest one in ages, and I heard that this man is extremely high-maintenance when it comes to his service. So he only expects the finest of the finest."
Ume was not deterred. "I am the finest of the finest. I have more clients than any of the other girls."
A crooked smile spread across Gyutaro's face as he heard those assured words. "Keep up that spirit, sister," But then his pleased voice morphed into something stern. "But remember, the samurai is serious business. He told the manager specifically that he desired a lovely lady, not a wild one."
"I am a lady!" Ume said defiantly. "I am a true Japanese lady, beautiful and graceful and strong." As soon as she said the word "strong," She punched Gyutaro in the arm, and he feigned a look of pain. "See?"
Her brother croaked out a laugh and gave her a mused look. "You know, Ume. You have some wildness in you. 'The hot blood,' they call it. Mother had a touch of it, you know? And she once said that Toko had more than a touch. It brought them both to an early grave."
Ume could hear the sadness in his voice; it was faint but pronounced. He did not often speak of Mother who had passed four years ago or their half-sister who had died shortly after her birth, and long before Ume herself was born.
"Mother would have wed a samurai if her hot blood didn't consume her fine looks. You remind me of her sometimes, when she was much younger and lovelier. You have her eyes the most. Bright and honest eyes. Green as a mossy riverbank. When you are a little older, many men will drown in those eyes. Just as men once did for her. You even look like her in the face."
"No, I don't. Kaoruko was an ugly shambling whore with a flat chest. I'm beautiful enough to become an Oiran." Ume said defiantly. Everybody said so. Nature rewarded her with outstanding looks; a beautiful face and a refined smile and eyes of fresh spring, but most importantly with long magnificent silver-white hair of winter. Her beauty was her treasure, it was her and her brother's wealth and lifeline.
That was why her mother despised her so much.
"When I become an Oiran, I'll make everyone love me."
But Gyutaro always regarded Kaoruko in a softer light. "She wasn't always ugly. If it wasn't for her feeble mind and shoddy health, she might have become an Oiran herself, maybe even attracted a lord. She was beautiful once."
Ume did not know if that was true or not; for as long as she could remember Kaoruko had always looked like a disheveled slattern. Gyutaro once said that the stress of raising an undesired son alone in Yoshiwara's unforgiving underbelly, amid her long string of miscarriages, one neonatal death, and her faltering career as a Yujo took a tremendous toll on her over the course of long cruel years. By the time Ume was born, Kaoruko was far gone in mind and what was left of her good looks was seeped away by the deadly sickness from which Ume got her name.
She silently witnessed her mother crumble day by day and slowly but surely, her contempt became all too clear. She was an unforgiving, vindictive woman with a savage temper that would drive Ume to tears and a hard fist that would have left Gyutaro with angry hand prints on his face for the smallest irritation. In all honesty, her death wasn't soon enough.
"The Gods didn't value her as they should have,"
"Because there was nothing to value from her, Big Brother," Ume stated bluntly, but upon seeing the look of disapproval framed over his face she sighed. "It's the truth. She was nothing but a deadbeat." she reaffirmed, averting her gaze from him. "I mean she was nothing but talentless, what value did she ever have?"
"She had some," Gyutaro said with an empathetic glint in his pale eyes. "Believe it or not, her mind was calm once. Still tattered, but somewhat intact. She was thoughtful and ambitious and eager to please. I can't tell you how many times she spoke of her dreams of crawling out of the Riverbank and back into the Upper Districts to be that renowned Oiran that she dreamt of. Her mind was always warped,"
"Warped" is not the right word to describe her," Ume cut him off bluntly. "Kaoruko was terrible, demented. She tried to kill us both several times, remember? Even on the day she dropped dead, she cursed me. She was nothing but an ugly monster."
After she said that, Ume caught a small shudder coming off of Gyutaro. He fell silent as if he was remembering those fearsome times and through gritted teeth he released a low hiss.
"Yeah, like I said. Her mind was never right. But she still had high hopes and ambitions that went beyond the lowest castes. Really, all she wanted was for things to be shiny and fancy, the way they were for the other Oirans."
Ume rolled her eyes. "Okay, so? What's your point?"
Gyutaro then paused again as though he was debating something before his pitiful expression slowly morphed into dejection in a flash. "My point is that the Gods forbade her from changing her destiny. This is why she relinquished her efforts before you were born. The stress of misfortune chipped away at her mind and ruined her completely. She realized that the Gods did not care for her."
"No. Kaoruko was just weak. She wasn't beautiful enough to become an Oiran. Just like she always told me, only those blessed with fine looks are destined to become an Oiran. Those who offer no value are sent to the Riverbank to rot and die off with the others. That's why she lived there. Kaoruko was not blessed. She never was. It was her destiny to rot and she didn't try to fight it. Her dream was never going to come true. It's just that simple."
Gyutaro looked taken aback by his sister's cold statement. But he only smiled calmly. "Yes, you're not wrong, but I can see now that you've thankfully inherited Mother's spirit. She was beautiful, willful, and dead before her time."
"So am I. I'm just beautiful and willful and yet I am nothing like her. And I won't end up like her anytime soon."
"I hope not," Gyutaro said quietly. His eyes averted down below to the pretty floats and people in the streets. Suddenly his eyes fixated on something in the distance. Ume followed his gaze to a small group of beautiful Oirans perched up on a nearby balcony that overlooked the crowded streets. They were dressed in the brightest of silks, hair prim and fashioned, skin pink and full. They were complimenting and giggling and singing to the cheering onlookers below.
They were beautiful, healthy, happy, beloved, and fortunate.
"One day, you'll be standing on that balcony," Gyutaro commented longingly.
Ume could only look at them in disgust. Those women were no different than bush warblers.
That was what Kaoruko wanted to be. Just to be another pretty little talking bird, repeating all the pretty little words she was taught to recite. That's what Gyutaro wanted her to be as well.
But Ume did not want to be just that. She wanted to be a pretty Oiran living in grand life of wealth and grandeur, of course, but at the same time, she wanted to be more than that. She wanted to be different, one of a kind, a rarity. She wanted to accomplish feats that no other Oiran could. She wanted to be remembered and idolized. She wanted to be framed in history as the finest Oiran to ever live.
"I will never be her," Ume met Gyutaro's eyes with a look of unwavering conviction. Her voice embroiled with venom. "I will learn from her mistakes, Big Brother. And I'll never repeat them. I may look a little like her, but I will grow into a woman far more gorgeous and talented than she ever could be, you know that. When I become an Oiran, I won't be some pretty face that will be replaced by the next one. I'm going to prove to everyone that I'm someone really important...I'll make everyone remember me."
Gyutaro sighed faintly in response and then broke out into a small smile. "Ha…I had a feeling you would say that.." he breathed. "You are like a rose."
"What?" Ume was taken aback by his reply. She furrowed an eyebrow in puzzlement, her finger touching the little crown on her head. "A rose?"
Gyutaro nodded his head slowly. "Yeah. A rose. A rose, no matter how beautiful or sweet, still possesses thorns. Whenever someone gets on your bad side, you're not afraid of pointing at anyone. You need to trim your thorns, especially if you wish to lure the eye of someone aristocratic."
"I am a lady, not a doormat," Ume asserted defiantly. "I am a rose, and roses never answer their opponents with words, but with beauty. I'm certain that samurai will be head over heels for me the moment he sees my face."
"I know you'll do well, sister. You always do. None of your clients had ever complained and all have given you favorable reviews. You need to carry on that spirit of yours, truly," But Gyutaro still looked tense, almost pained. "But promise me that you will be at your absolute best. Take care of your good looks, keep your voice down, and be sweet as a rose. The last thing we need is for him to walk out on you dissatisfied. Promise me that, Ume, please."
"I promise, alright?" Ume gave her brother a warm nonchalant smile. "I promise, Gyutaro, I will be wonderful, and then we'll both be living high and great amongst the wealthy, right?"
"Of course," Gyutaro smiled softly as he reminded her of the words he once promised: "We will always be together."
Ume smiled, allowing herself to fade into the sweet memory as she replayed it over and over in her mind. The recollection felt surreal like an illusion, too far away and too perfect for it to have been real.
And now that she's rethinking it, it was also the most prophetic memory as well.
Red Spider Lilies. The flowers of hell and death, the flowers of farewells. Given to her on her thirteenth birthday and the day before the samurai and brothel manager burned her alive as a human. Her last gift.
Why was it that one of her favourite colours was the same as the accursed flower of farewells?
"It fits me quite well." Ume mused, plucking up one of the floating bright petals in midair, their collective glow faintly illuminating with their distinct red light.
As Ume stared up at the night skies, it felt as if the darkness was endless, that it went on forever.
Ume truly wished this to go on forever...and that Gyutaro was right here observing the beauty of the world alongside her.
"Big Brother, I will carry on that spirit. I'm not an Oiran anymore and I'm not an Upper Moon anymore, but I will become the greatest Hashira that ever lived. So when I see you again, there will be a great difference between me and me before." That was Ume's first words as she held her grip on the comfort of Tanjiro.
I genuinely hope you enjoyed this, leave reviews and thoughts.
