The Geisha Way

Ch 19- It Is Not For Geisha To Want.

“I could no more have stopped myself from feeling that sadness than you could stop yourself from smelling an apple that has been cut open on the table before you.” 

Experiencing Sauna was not the same without Lolita; but Miomomo was just glad that she will be alright, and in the comfort of Konoha. She stared absentmindedly at the people of Suna and thought of how robust each person was to be able withstand Suna’s harsh heat and terrain. A deep breath and she could taste the sandy air, running through her lungs. It was definitely a culture shock and an extreme change of scenery; but there was something charming about it. It could just be the fact that she got a glimpse into Gaara’s life, got to see where he grew up. Toph stormed into the room; a quite drab inn really: everything was the color of sand.

“Is something the matter?” She asked; turning to a disheveled Toph, who was fuming and throwing her cloak off.

“There was sand storm; and it almost ruined my kimono. I had to buy this hideous cloak to protect my hair and silk.” Miomomo giggled at her rage, earning her a glare. “I serious hate this place; who would want to live here?”

“Well; I think that there is beauty in every place. You just have to open your eyes and see it. Just because you’re not use to it like these people are, doesn’t make it horrible; give it time Toph-chan.” Toph dramatically rolled her eyes.

“My eyes are opened; and you know what I see? I see sand. That’s it, nothing but stupid, freaking, sand everywhere!” She plopped herself down on the bed with a huff.

“I certainly hope you’re in a better mood by the time the coronation; we wouldn’t want to give the people of Suna a bad first impression of geishas’.” Toph said nothing; but offered her a pointed look. Miomomo decided to dismiss it; Toph has always had a bad attitude, something she probably picked up from Hana. She silently hoped that was all she picked up from Hana.

The night came at a snail's pace; slowly creeping over the desert’s mountain tops, and eventually befalling the city. With the darkness, came a cool breeze that could send a chill to nip at your exposed skin. Miomomo dressed in her finest kimono, which coincidently was her first one; a gift from her onesan. It bared horrible memories for her. These upsetting moments seemed to have latched themselves onto the silk in a dreadful grip. The only way to rid the kimono of these is to create new memories; drown them in it. The red was still as vibrant as ever; despite the extensive cleaning that had to b done in order to relieve it of the mud she gracelessly sunk herself in. The way it faded into black, was still a beautifully piece. But Miomomo’s favorite feature of the kimono, was still its black, fierce dragon’s emerging from the void.

Toph came from the bathroom wearing a simple kimono; looking dreary as if she wanted nothing to do with life itself. Miomomo could see a great deal of pain in Toph’s eyes; and she wanted desperately to know the cause. Toph’s lavender eyes had lost the luster they once held; the determination, even the compassion. It was as if she was hollow.

“You could wear my pink kimono if you’d like…” Toph gave her an emotionless stare.

“What makes you think I want to wear it?” Miomomo shrugged nonchalantly; looking in the mirror perfecting the golden comb in her hair; the one she got from Biyōchō years ago.

“I am aware of how much you admire it; pink isn’t really my color anyway it would definitely suit you.” The Hyūga girl shook her head in dissent.

“I am fine with the kimono I have on; besides I don’t need your handouts.” She said crossly. Miomomo tilted her head in confusion.

“No I was just—” The door slam cut off her words abruptly, and she was left with an empty room, and a heavy heart. No matter how much she tried to reach out to Toph, it was as if all her attempts were feeble, and made everything worse. Miomomo felt like she was trying to put out a fire with a bottle of sake; like she was trying to bandage a wound using thorns. It just wouldn’t work.