Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Lotus on a Looking Glass ❯ Lotus on a Looking Glass ( Chapter 1 )

1. A Lotus floating on a Looking Glass

- Shirou Tora Byakko

Hello, sir.

Good Evening.

Welcome to the Peach Heaven!

The last fragments of the afternoon sunlight slowly disappeared in streaks, tainting the crimson sky with uneven highlights of yellow and orange. Somewhere in the streets of Kyoto, the patrons of the geisha house began to make their way towards the venue, eager to see the show for the night.

A stunning new show! A dazzling new performer!

All the fliers said the same thing each week, and each week, so he had learned, the patrons had never been let down.

The geisha house was more popular than the brothels nowadays. But that was only because some of the dancers doubled in the same line of profession as their female counterparts of less reputable standing. Never would the offers be said out loud though. Instead, they would be whispered to the "mothers" of the houses behind the paper fans.

That was the way that business was.

That was the way that life was.

From the back of the wide room, he watched as the patrons walked in, mostly men, mostly old men, mostly dirty old men. A good number of them were "Nihon jin". People of his own blood… Though many of them, as he came to assess later on, were less than worthy of their heritage. The rest were Gaijin dogs. Ruthless Americans who thought that they knew how to run a country…

He snorted at the thought, a hint of emotion flashing through his dark cobalt eyes in the process.

Would you like anything, Sir?

The waitress that had asked him was bubbly in demeanor, brown-haired girl that was hardly passed fourteen. Gyokuro. He said, simply, and with a cheerful smile, she had gone off, leaving him to himself.

Leaning back, he sighed, the sheath of his double kudachi nudging against his back. He could feel the hilt of his blade through the fabric of his trench coat. At a certain angle it felt like a stab wound; a reminder of the life that he had to lead.

Pushing the thought out of his mind, he looked towards the center of the room where the crowd's attention had grown to focus on.

Five girls of ascending height, each in carnation pink kimonos, stood at the center with dazzling feathered fans in their hands vertically covered a standing figure. Unconsciously shifting in his seat, he allowed himself to get a better view; the boisterous fat man in front of him reclining and laughing as he groped the voluptuous courtesan pouring sake into his cup.

Rice wine was… Intoxicating. Something he couldn't allow himself a part off. He would not be allowed to forget.

Speaking of which, the waitress had returned, placing a small white pot adorned with crimson rose patterns. She had given him a single, warmed cup to match it, smiling as he poured in the drink. The smile seemed to be offering something more. Accompaniment? A bed to lie in? Someone to lie with? He shook his head and she nodded, a somewhat dejected look masking her face for a split second. Within the next moment she had flitted to the doorway, welcoming a foreigner and his Japanese guide.

Returning his gaze to the presentation, he looked just in time to see the feathered fans part, revealing a young woman of moderate height. She seemed to be this week's modest star, a pale-skinned woman with long black hair and brown eyes that shone bronze in the light of the room. Her lips were frozen in a sigh, her expression stoic and melancholy. A twinge of familiarity washed over him, but he thought better of acknowledging it. Instead, he watched her move, her slender, almost fragile form seeming like porcelain underneath an off-shoulder black kimono with silver lotus blossoms stretching all the way down to where the garments ended above her knees.

He had seen dancers like her more than a dozen times before, all of them resigned to the same fate. As he watched, he caught her glance his way, seeing her nod as if she had seen all men think the same a thousand times before.

A lotus on a looking glass. He had thought, silently watching as she danced to the tune of a lonesome shamisen. She was a flower ready to wilt, the lotus blossom being the only one that allows memory to fade, and he was the looking glass, a mere mirror of what the truth was.

But he did not want her or her body. All he felt was an off-handed pity at what she had come to be. What they both had to be, he had even supposed.

Beside him, he heard the obese patron began to laugh again, this time whistling for the "mother" of the house. He listened as he requested, no, demanded that the girl be brought to him after her routine. The jezebel beside him gave a mock pout, inwardly contradicting herself for being both relieved and wary at the same time. She was relieved in the sense that she would no longer have to satisfy the man with his meaty hands and his flabby arms. At the same time, she was nervous of how much she could get before he shooed her away like a boy does to an old hound when he has to make room for the next little puppy.

Getting up, he dropped a few gold coins into the dish, the nearest waitress, rushing forward and picking them up to slip into the satchel between her bosom.

Thank you for coming.

Have a nice night, Sir!

Are you sure you wouldn't wish to stay for the evening? We have a few rooms free.

He walked out into the rain soaked streets of Kyoto, the heavy downpour of late July obstructing the view of a moonlit night and the scent of cherry blossoms.

If he could've screamed into the dark, he would have. But he knew better than that. Instead he walked down the narrow street and towards the rundown inn found in the outskirts of town, allowing the rain to cry for the both of them.

Because for Aoshi Shinomori… The time for tears had passed long ago.

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Author's notes: To the people, who have reviewed, thank you for your meticulous reading and corrections. Mild changes have been made to keep accurate with canon. This piece was first meant to be a short story however, with your support I've begun to ponder a sequel. Again, thank you very much. ^_^

Information: GYOKURO is the best Japanese Tea. It is a precious tea and it is served as a treat to visitors. GYOKURO means "the dew of jewels". It has a stronger flavor and aroma with less bitterness than SENCHA. This is because when the buds are about to come out, the teas bushes are shaded

Disclaimer:Rurouni Kenshin is the work of Nobuhiro Watsuki. This text and its sequels are a work of fiction and do not intend to infringe on Watsuki-san's copyrights.