Demon Days (Male Reader)

Issue #2

Butterflies. It is revered because it combines both vigor and grace. The vigor to fly, but the grace and subtlety to land on the delicate flowers.

There is a butterfly that has both grace and vigor that calls Yoshiwara home. Sold to the Golden Palace at the age of ten, she had come of age at 14. She had her first costumer the same night. The old hag had decided that she was now old enough to give pleasure to a man.

And so, the butterfly did. That night, she laid with a man for the first time. She found nothing but displeasure during the whole ordeal. Yet, she found that she had a hidden skill that none of the other girls did.

She could read a man. She knew what he was thinking. Almost like a faint whisper in her ear. So she used it. And she became exclusive to Lords. She worked until she could pick her clients herself. Those she had hoped were kind.

But, she only had so many options.

The large man who was now getting dressed had called her a beautiful painting. She stated that he was the artist. He told her that he would marry her if he did not have a wife.

He did not. She has been dead for six months.

But he had finished. And he moved in high circles. He was a blabber mouth as well. Maybe he will mention her to one of his wealthy friends. That's the dream, anyway.

Frontier:
DEMON DAYS

Act 1:
Fisk

The Butterfly knew that everyone here had a dream. For the clients, it was that one of the beautiful Oirans gives them something they cannot find at their homes. For the girls, it was finding a rich, kind client who might look after them.

It was always thus in Yoshiwara. This precarious dream-world of paint and perfume.

The Butterfly also had a dream. But she had to be patient. Had to bide her time. The other girls see her as stuck up, but she was simply too careful to reveal too much.

Sakura: The one on the left. His head is shiny, but he has a kind face.

The Butterfly looked through the wooden gates where the people were walking. She sat with the others, where the passing clients could see them. She spotted the one that the younger girl had spoke of.

And she heard the whisper.

Butterfly: No, Sakura. He is tight-fisted. He is already wondering if he can buy us both for the price of one.

Sakura: How can you be so sure?

The Butterfly narrowed her eyes.

Butterfly: Trust me.

She knew how to spot the skinflints. The time-wasters. And worse.....

???: AHH!

The Butterfly snapped her head around towards the scream. She knew that voice.

Butterfly: Aiko!

She quickly got to her feet, uncaring that her robe was slightly loosened, and rushed to her friend's room.

She immediately spotted the fresh blood on the wooden walls. Aiko was on the floor, shaking with a broken nose and an already brusing eye. The man stood over her with his fists balled.