Chapter 7: Dancing to a Debut

As they delve deeper into their pasts, the world of the geisha pulls them through time as Sora does his best to impress.

The scene reformed, leaving us no time to talk as it had the last couple of times. It was, perhaps, because Sora remembered this vividly.

That aside, another room of the okiya pieced itself together before our eyes. The same women sat before us, all sitting on their knees, smiling wide. As we turned to look behind us, we saw Hanako, Izumi, and Sora.

Izumi was beaming with pride, watching Sora lovingly. Sora sat on his knees, like the others, playing a shamisen*, a skill that all geisha needed. Hanako smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. Behind those eyes was jealousy and hate.

Sora played the shamisen with a beautiful eloquence. The notes echoed through the room, as he plucked the strings. He smiled softly as he played, a certain confidence there. His kimono sleeves shook with the rapid movement of his hands, playing what seemed to be a complex piece.

He finished, looking up to the other geisha, who all clapped and smiled. Izumi clapped, and Hanako did so as well, but not because she wanted to. Sora stood, bowing politely to all of the woman in front of him, then turning and bowing to Izumi and Hanako, each individually. One of the servants gingerly took the instrument from his hands, returning it to its rightful place.

“As you all know,” Izumi began, her voice powerful, yet kind, “Our Sora will receive his new name tonight.** He has worked hard to receive the title of 'geisha', and he deserves it.” She looked to him and smiled gently. Her gaze then turned to Hanako. “As his onei-san, what will you call him?”

“Kiku,” she said, a grin spreading over her face. It wasn't a kind smile, or a gentle one. There was a somewhat crazed look in her eyes, as if she was going mad with self satisfaction.

At first, I didn't understand why this was so. Within moments, I felt Sora's presence in myself. He told me why this name brought Hanako such satisfaction.

Kiku, a name which means chrysanthemum, is given to girls, but never boys. The chrysanthemum, in Japan, was a symbol of homosexuality. Since Hanako means 'flower child', giving Sora a flower-type name was almost her only choice. There were other, less insulting names she could have chosen, but her dislike of Sora was now made more evident than ever.

The room fell quickly silent, no one knowing what to say. Sora looked to the floor, his eyes welling up tears. Though no one outside of the okiya knew, it was still bound to be humiliating. I felt a deep sorrow growing inside of me. The silence was broken by Izumi.

“For shame, Hanako,” was all she said to the cruel woman beside her. She knelt down, moving Sora's face up level with hers. “You are now Kiku. You will bring great honor to our okiya,” she smiled. “Perhaps more than anyone here ever has,” she said, turning her head to look up at the now furious Hanako.

Hanako stormed out of the room, making no other comment before she did so. The other geisha simply smiled at Sora. They knew that he deserved everything that he would receive. They knew he had worked for it more than any of them ever had. They cared for him like a little brother. And how ironic it was that of all these women, the one that did not love him was his to call 'big sister'.

“She will begin to teach your your dance for your debut soon,” Izumi said, placing her hand on Sora's shoulder.

The scene faded and the shadows crept among us. We were left a little time to talk between us.

I explained to Quinn why the name Kiku had seemed so offensive to them all. He nodded, acknowledging what I had said. Suddenly, he pulled me close, and gently pressed our lips together. I blushed furiously before a new area appeared before us.

“Your dance is amateur at best, Kiku,” Hanako said, and I recalled, through Sora, that she was the only one in the okiya to use the new name when in private. Her tone was nonchalant, but it seemed as though she wanted him to change it. She sounded somewhat desperate underneath her uncaring words.

“Okaa-san seemed to think it was fine,” Sora said, continuing his practice, not stopping to reply properly.

“Yes, but that woman has not been to a debut for ages,” she said. “She doesn't know what the men like now!” I could tell from the way she was talking that she was just manipulating Sora. She seemed desperate to change his dance.

Sora pondered on this for a few moments, still moving elegantly. He slowed, folding up his fans, and turning to Hanako. “Teach me,” he said simply.

She smiled a sinister smile, taking two more fans from the wall behind her. “Alright, Kiku, I will teach you.” She began to dance a slow, clumsy looking dance. It held no elegance.

For hours, it seemed, they danced. Sora was beautiful during this dance, though it was not one that showed his abilities. His eyes held a fire that I could not place, that I could not dissect.

Finally, the dancing was over.

“Dance like that, my little Kiku,” Hanako said, “And you shall have a glorious debut.” There was a slyness about her that was plain to see.

“Thank you, onei-san,” Sora replied. “Please, excuse me. I have a letter to write.” He walked from the room, and as he did, Hanako and the room faded from our vision.

“We can't see what he doesn't know,” I thought, wishing that I could see what Hanako was up to.

We followed Sora as he walked, passing other geisha along our path. They bowed to each other politely and smiled. These women truly did love Sora as their own. They respected him for the great trials and risks he had gone through.

Finally, we reached a room which Sora entered, and I presumed that it was his own. It was filled with incenses and lanterns, giving the room a dim glow and a sweet smell. He sat at the small, square table in the middle of the room. He pulled out a calligraphy brush and a scroll, unrolling it gently. He began to write, and Quinn and I moved closer to see what it was that he wrote.

Though it was written in the Japanese kanji and kana, I could read it as well as I could understand their speech.

“My dearest Akira,

It has been too long since we have seen each other. I have so much to tell you. Many things have happened since we last talked.

Okaa-san has finally allowed me my debut! Hanako is terribly cruel as usual, but I have my ways of dealing with her. She gave me my new name. She means to insult me. It is Kiku. Okaa-san wasn't happy with her for it, but what could she do but allow it?

My debut will be in the spring. I hope that you can be there. Okaa-san welcomes you as well.

She allows you to visit on occasion because I beg it of her. The other geisha say nothing, knowing well that Okaa-san's word is law in the okiya. They dare not question her. I don't believe that they would, either way. These women care about me, and know my hardships. Hanako being an exception, of course.

My training has gone well, though Hanako doesn't think me ready for the responsibility of being a geisha. I have heard her say such to Okaa-san. She disagrees with Hanako, saying that I have a great love of the karyukai***. I only hope that my passion for it is enough to guide me into a successful career.

I hope to see you soon, Akira.

Yours,

Sora Yukimura”

He then rolled the scroll back up carefully. He removed the ribbon from his hair, making his hair fall down around his face. He held it up to his face, as if he was kissing it, which perhaps he was. He then gently tied it around the scroll. He stood and left the room, heading toward the center of the okiya.

He opened the door there, bowing politely as he entered. We followed, as it was all we could do.

“Okaa-san,” he said, sitting on his knees with the letter in his lap, “Please allow me to send this letter.” He leaned forward, head bowed, extending it out toward her.

The woman looked at him with a smile. She puffed lightly on her pipe, blowing sweet, rich smelling smoke into the air. “For Akira, is it,” she asked with certainty. “You know that I will do this for you, my Sora,” she said, kind as ever. “But as I have told you many times... We are dedicated to our clients. You are dedicated to this okiya, at least until you have repaid that which you owe me. Your training, your schooling, your kimono, and even your debut must be repaid to me.”

“Yes, Okaa-san,” he said, “I know my debts, and I assure they will be repaid.”

She nodded once. “Then I will do this for you.”

“Thank you, Okaa-san,” he said, bowing low, as geisha were trained to do.

“Up, up, up,” she replied, “Do not bow to me so humbly.” Her lips curved again into a smile as she sucked on her pipe.

He sat up a little more, placing the scroll before her. The scene blotted out, as I was now so used to. In the darkness we floated, waiting for the next memory to lay before us what Sora wished us to know.

As we did, I thought to myself how strange this whole thing was. It was all very curious. And even more curious was that we had only seen Sora's life. Since we saw them as children, we had only viewed events through Sora's eyes, never Akira's. These thoughts were swept away quickly as another setting came into view.

Before us now sat Sora and Izumi, preparing for what I assumed to be his debut. The woman applied the white makeup slowly, and with great care. They sat in silence for a long while, the only noise came from many a person chatting nearby.

When Izumi was done with the white makeup, she burned a black stick of some kind. She let it burn for a few moments, then shook it until the flame was extinguished, and she penciled on thin, pretty eyebrows on Sora's forehead. She then marked his eyes with it, applying a thin amount as to not make it too dark.

“You are so beautiful, my son,” she said, smiling as she applied a dark red to his lips. “It is ironic, is it not,” she asked rhetorically. “The most breathtaking geisha that I have ever seen is a man.” She shook her head. “Perhaps there should be more male geisha like yourself, hm, Sora?”

Sora's eyes grew wide at this comment, which sent Izumi into quiet peels of laughter. She finished applying all of his makeup, standing and moving to where his kimono hung.

“Okaa-san,” he said, so softly that it was amazing that she heard him, “Thank you for your compliments, but... What if I am not as successful as you would hope,” he asked, somewhat fearfully. “What if you can never gain back your investment?”

Izumi just laughed. “Silly boy,” she said, removing the first part of the outfit, and holding it out for him to slip on. “You don't realize how thoroughly you have made yourself one of us. If I had not told them, the other women of the okiya would never have known either. You are just as much of a geisha as they are, child.”

Sora began to speak, but she held up her finger, quieting him as he adjusted his garment.

“Perhaps more so because of your dedication and beauty. Unless you tell someone, they will never know,” she finished, putting down her finger, allowing him to speak.

“Thank you,” was all he said. How else could he respond to such high praise?

“And as for your dance,” she began, “Do not think with your head. Feel with your heart. This performance is an extension of you. You would do good to remember that.” Sora nodded. “Now come, finish getting ready,” she said, holding up the next layer of the expensive kimono.

The next few minutes were spent in silence as the final touches were made. Finally, his kimono was on completely, and Izumi tied the obi**** around his waist, making sure it looked right from all angles. The smile never left her face as she escorted Sora to his place backstage.

We moved next to him, peeking the crowd as he was. I could see Hanako seated with her clients; a table of about four men. The other geisha from the okiya were also seated at various tables, tending to the guests that had come to see Sora's debut. Izumi appeared in the back of the room, having left Sora after she was done helping.

The lights dimmed, and as he walked on stage, it would have been impossible to see him in the darkness. Only the lanterns on the tables flickered as the crowd quieted.

A flute began to play softly, a slow, melodic tune. As it seemed to fade, the sharp, distinct strum of a shamisen cued the lights to shine down on Sora. There were a few gasps in the crowd as Sora came into view.

His movements started slow, the dance seeming none too amazing. It was the one that Hanako had taught him. I looked to her, and she was smiling devilishly, seeming content with his simple dance.

The shamisen notes grew intense, the span between them shortening. The flute's tune returned, adding a mesmerizing flair to the music. Sora's dance became more complex, the fans he held moving quickly about him, as though they were floating rather than in his hands. Their red and gold designs matched his kimono, and drew attention from the entire crowd. He had disregarded Hanako and continued his own dance rather than performing the one he was taught.

Izumi seemed pleased, smoking from her pipe and grinning. Hanako was quite the opposite. Her face was red, and she rose from her clients, storming off. That was sure to put a stain on her reputation.

The peak of the dance came, and Sora had not made a single mistake, from what I could tell. The music began to slow again, as did his movements. Finally, the shamisen stopped playing, and the flute was all that was left. Its rang out, deeply emotional. As the last note echoed, Sora slowly lowered himself to his knees and looked to the skies. Flower petals fell from the ceiling, landing all around him. The lights dimmed again, and the debut was over.

Everyone stood immediately, clapping loudly. Sora made his way off stage, smiling. There were tears in his eyes. I looked to the entrance of the room, and there stood Akira, clapping and grinning wider than anyone else.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

*Shamisen: A Japanese instrument with three strings, played with a large, paddle-like pick.

** When a Maiko becomes a geisha, they are given a new name by their onei-san, and it is usually relative to the onei-san's name in some way.

*** Karyukai: “The World of Flowers and Willows”. This is the name given to the secret, elite, high class culture of the geisha.

**** Obi: A sash tied around the waist to hold the kimono closed. It is usually heavily decorated in the back.

Author's Note

If there are any inconsistencies , just let me know so I can fix the book! Also, any grammatical errors or spelling errors are possible, so keep your eyes peeled!

Reviews

[Aiden- Aiko- Kiyomi]

I liked it... immensely. Shame on me... I was listening to Utaka no Yume by Gackt whilst reading about Kiku's performance. The chapter was pretty incredible! I will be posting more of my Katherine Wheel chapters soon so be on the lookout.

ALSO, Kiku... really? Did you HAVE to go there? HOORAY homosexuality *headdesk* is THAT why you laughed when I chose that name? You could have TOLD me you know.

[Orahemae December]

aww!!! I LOVED IT!!!