The Courtesan

一

The young oiran girl stared out the wooden framed window. Raindrops dripped off its hinges and onto her fair hands. Now was one of her very few breaks, and during her time off she would space out and dream of a life outside the brothel.

"Ayame," a condescending voice echoed from behind the opaque shōji. The girl snapped out of her thoughts and whirled around at the speed of light. The last thing she would want now was to get on mother's bad side.

"Service time?" She asked in a small voice, barely loud enough for the other woman to hear.

"Yes, he wishes to see you in the East wing." Mother responded.

Before the conversation continued, the girl slid open the shōji and came face to face with an older - but extremely beautiful - woman. Her mother. This was the woman who had saved her from poverty and taken her in from a very young age.

An experienced and popular tayū every man in the district knew of. "I barely had 10 minutes, mother." She sighed softly, straightening her red and white kimono.

"Stop complaining, Ayame," mother scolded while fixing the hairpins on her young oiran's head, "You are the least busy among all the rest, be thankful for that."

Ayame said no further and stood in silence as she got re-dolled up. Despite not providing sexual favors unlike her other housemates, she had received quite a number of customers. Most interested in merely playing traditional games or listening to music.

She glided down the empty hallways gracefully - not making a single sound. The teahouse was packed and all the rooms were lit up dimly. Occasionally, she would hear the giggles of her fellow oiran and other....unpleasant noises.

Upon reaching the East wing, she came to see a man of a sturdy posture and neat coat with his back to her. He was so busy admiring the Japanese garden that he had not even noticed her arrival. She cleared her throat awkwardly to catch his attention.

The man immediately turned around. She almost stumbled over; taken aback by his beauty. He definitely was not another one of the old geezers she was expecting to see. He was young - in fact, almost too young to be caught loitering in a teahouse. His facial features prominent and nearly perfect.

Ayame swallowed and laced her fingers together in nervousness. She was simply a hormonal young girl and was not used to dealing with handsome men.

"Good evening," he broke the silence with a greeting, his voice deep and smooth.

"Good evening, master," She replied curtly, trying her very best to maintain her professionalism in this alarming time.

"I'm sorry, I was so caught up with the beauty of your garden that I hadn't heard you approaching me," He smiled an empty smile, "My apologies."

She returned his smile with one of hers, praying that the conversation would not get any more awkward, "Please do not apologize. Would you like a room with a view of the garden?"

"That'll be splendid, thank you."

She bowed before him politely before motioning him to follow her. She reached the end of the hallway and invited him to enter the cozy wooden room. The shōji clacked shut behind them.

Right after taking their seats at the small tea table, she began her usual introductions. "My name is Ayame, master, and I will be your partner for tonight. If you have not already heard, I do not provide anything more than tea, games and music, so if you were looking for something...other than that, I will bring in another oiran."

Most of the time, men would thank her and leave right away - much to her relief. "I understand. I have already heard of you. Which is why I'm here." He replied straightly.