The Disgraced Blossom- A Hakuouki Fan Fiction

7

Before dawn broke across the azure sky a lone figure arose from the futon in the confined hut. Bleary eyes forage a rustic pot to churn water before she prepare for the arduous journey home.

A few days ago, a villager from Fukumi's hometown visited to bear critical news due to her enfeebled mother. The elderly male was kind-hearted to traverse such a distance to fetch the young girl.

The low flame reflected in her desolate gaze. The day had come forth for Fukumi to depart home to her family even as her atrabilious heart was never able to accept the truth.

A lone tear rolled down.

She had filled in a request to the lady of the teahouse of her family problem and thankfully, the maiko was generous to accept Fukumi's hasty resignment.

The young lady sauntered to lift up the nori in the time slid the entrance's aperture to greet the early morning; she calmly inhaled crisp dewy air and exhaled from her nostrils.

Luscious locks flowed over her slender shoulders as Fukumi initiated to bundle her little asset after a brief meal of leftover from last night and a cup of tea.

"Minata-san," a voice greeted at the entryway. "Good morning, are you ready?"

"Wakaba-san, good morning to you," she bowed at the aged villager. "I'm almost ready but, can we travel later in the afternoon?"

"Eh?" he blinked in surprise by the odd appeal. "But it's a strenuous exertion, young girl."

"I know," she fidgetted nervously. "I promise it won't be late, because there is someone that I have to meet before we leave."

He sighed at the same time scratched at his tuft of snow white hair. He was a senior, but he was competent to pull the medium sized cart by his lone strength.

"Alright," he nodded in acceptance. "If you wish to, but who is that person?"

"Just someone that I've known during my stay here," she explained as a small smile formed on her plum mouth. "She is a ronin."

"Oh," he barked a laughter. "And here I thought Minata-san fell in love with a rich man."

Fukumi reciprocated to his mirth with a shake of her head. She invited Wakaba indoors and that the widower acknowledged gratitiously.

"I'll return home before the two of us set off," Fukumi notified softly. "In the meantime, Wakaba-san may rest for the upcoming sojourn."

"Are you going to see her now?" he enquired from the prone position on the tatami floor.

"Yes," she replied quietly. "I will not be late."

Birds tweeted merrily as their tiny bodies flittered from one tree to another; the grassblades in tune with the gentle breeze. Wild hares were spotted across the stretch of road.

Fukumi glanced down at her kimono that was easy to travel on but admirably pretty by it's pattern. Silky hair put up in a loose bun and tendrils caressed her fresh complexion.

Soon, the eager female buzzed in the heart of Yoshiwara. Variegated of attires swarm in her observant vision; clamorous sounds from bustling concourse drifted to her sensitive ears.

Fukumi conjoined as one with the morning hustle and bustle in pursuing Haruka; ebon kimono and messy bun perched atop the head.

Time was of the essence for Fukumi because the hour was brisk and they had to embark soon, if the two of them planned to rest at another town.

Baby hairs on Fukumi's nape prickled when she located a familiar stature at a stall. The back was presented to her nonetheless, Fukumi's pristine heart skipped in a double beat.