Chapter Text
My back slammed up against the shelf, pain searing through my body as I choked for air that wouldn't come.
The angry vein on his arm bulged grotesquely, protruding more as his grip tightened. I could hear plates and glasses shattering, careening to the floor as what sounded like distant screams and begging reached my ears.
"You think you can do as you please!?" He spat, flecks of spittle flying from his gaunt mouth. He slammed me against the wall again, his hand not relenting in its constricting grip.
I shook my head, unable to beg or plead for my life. I could almost see the reflection of my face, twisting in agony and fear in his enraged and bloodshot eyes.
"You forget your place" Anger turned to something more horrifying as the corner of his thin mouth upturned into a twisted grin.
"I will give you..." He started, pausing to watch me struggle desperately, clawing at his arm for air. "A permanent reminder".
With a flash of silver, everything went dark.
--
I awoke with a start, flailing slightly as I quickly uprighted myself. My clammy hands hastily darted to my throat, shaking as they felt around my neck for the assailant's hands.
A droplet of sweat slid down my temple, tickling in an unpleasant way. I tried to steady my breath as I kicked off the thin blanket, the crisp morning air biting at my sweaty skin.
It was just a nightmare. I thought, repeating it a few more times in an attempt to calm my racing heart.
My eyes darted around the dim room at the other sleeping women, a few snores and muffled noises breaking the silence sporadically. It was early, the sun barely kissing the horizon as I got up out of bed and put my futon away. Going back to sleep wouldn't be possible; not with that dream still floating in my head. I quickly got dressed into my plain kimono, noting one of the many stitches had come undone again. I cursed quietly, making a mental note to fix it before I returned to bed that night.
I found my house slippers and silently withdrew from the room, softly shutting the sliding door behind me.
I welcomed the feeling of icy cold water on my face, splashing a little on the back of my neck to soothe my skin. Combing my long, dark hair back, I brushed it out of my eyes and pinned it up and out of the way.
I glanced at the cracked hand-held mirror we'd been so graciously gifted, my hand hovering over the handle. I lifted it up, peering into the fractured reflection.
The reflection offered me little in ways of relief or comfort. My eyes were dull; dark circles framing my bottom lashes. My skin was tanned, a testament to the many afternoons spent scrubbing clothes and sheets in the sun's full view.
Any of these imperfections could be overlooked; forgiven even, if they didn't accompany another unmissable blemish. Stretching from my eyebrow to my chin, I lightly ran my fingers along the contorted skin that thinly marred the left side of my face. My eyes looked back at myself impassively, the reoccurring and insistent words that it was 'barely noticeable' coming to mind.
But the hushed whispers when I arrived, and the looks I receive in the street even to this day, say otherwise.
I put everything back in its place, and dried the stray droplets from my face and neck. The sun had risen a little more now, casting a soft orange glow over the peaceful gardens and buildings.
Birds chirped faintly, awaking with the sun's rays to declare the day had started. Elsewhere in the building, I could hear movement and faint discussions as the others started to wake and prepare for their chores. Tying my long sleeves back with expert fingers and quick knots, I bustled into the kitchen to start cooking breakfast for the house.
The house was soon alive with small talk and women preparing for the day. They always seemed a little more buoyant after breakfast, and I had long since learned to hold my tongue before talking to them on an empty stomach.
The women prepared for their afternoons with brightly coloured kimonos and exaggerated make-up. In comparison, my drab attire could hardly hold a candle to theirs; but I far from envied the profession that these luxuries were reserved for. I assisted where I could; covering bruises for one courtesan, and helping another to apply her speciality make-up her customer had specifically requested.
Nights were the liveliest hours of the house. Filled with drinking, hearty laughter and promises of unlocking euphoria for just a few extra coins. My first few months had been a whirlwind, my face betraying my shock every time I heard or saw something lewd. That knee-jerk reaction was quickly hit out of me.
Quite a few regular customers would book spots up in advance, some boldly buying the courtesan outright for the convenience. Few courtesans would return, covered in blue bruises and begging to seek refuge from their once well-respected customer. Some tried to escape back to us, but never arrived. We dutifully attended their memorials, and I hoped in death they wouldn't belong to anyone other than themselves.
The sickening thought would often linger in my head; being sold and given away like cattle...I had resigned to the fact that a life of toil and constant orders was a blessing for someone like me.
Our House mother, Kuni-San, had grimaced at the sight of my face for the first time.
"What am I supposed to do with you? With a face like that" she threw up her hands, as if expecting an answer.
I had just continued to stare at the floor, hands clasped together tightly in front of me.
She had mercilessly given me cleaning and assisting duties, and I was somewhat thankful for my disfigurement; I wouldn't have to touch a man.
I was called in a different direction every few minutes, hurrying with hot sake or stacking empty bowls.
"Hana, that customer is still waiting for his wine" Kuni-San hissed at me quietly as I walked past. I nodded in response and quickly served him his drink he'd waited a few minutes too long for.
"Well, well. It will certainly taste sweeter with you pouring my drink!" The new customer slurred, shakily holding out his cup for more wine; which I dutifully poured.
His flirtatious demeanour quickly dissipated when he caught sight of my face. He couldn't hide his look of disgust, and recoiled as if I were contagious.
Kuni-San quickly smoothed things over, shooing me away dismissively as she opened a new topic to engage with the customer. I hurried back to the safety of the kitchen, pausing to stand at the table as I gathered myself.
The night wore on with more alcohol and questionable noises from behind 'private' shoji screens. I stood in the hall adjacent to the foyer, a fresh tray of drinks in hand as I used the small area to hide from Kuni-San's watchful gaze. I stretched my neck painfully, allowing my muscles to relax for a few seconds before I could be reprimanded for slacking.
The front door slid open, the little rusty bell attached to it jingling loudly to announce their arrival. Cold air rushed in as the stranger stepped inside, brushing freshly fallen snow off his shoulders as he closed the door behind him. It wasn't often we received guests so late...
With my interest piqued, I peered around the corner to investigate this late-night newcomer. His height was hard to miss, along with broad shoulders hidden beneath an oversized cape. I took an instant interest in his yellow tinted glasses, which sat atop a sharp nose. The stranger removed his hat, shaking off the snow as our greeter, Toshi, began his drunken spiel on our services.
"I have no interest in those services" He bluntly interrupted in the middle of Toshi's rehearsed speech. His voice was low and he spoke with purpose. As I observed the strange man in the foyer, I had a niggling feeling wash over me that this stranger wasn't an ordinary customer. I frowned and turned to continue my duties, wanting to hurry back before my punishment got too severe.
As I stepped out from my hiding spot, I stumbled on the edge of the carpet, managing to regain my footing before I ended up on the floor. One of the drinks toppled, taking another with it as they spilt over the tray, dribbling to the floor as Toshi and the customer looked over at the noise. I looked up to briefly see eyes on me, and I quietly muttered an apology. I knew Toshi wouldn't yell at me in front of a customer, he would wait until we were alone to beat me for my clumsiness.
I bowed politely, and stole a quick glance up at the customer now that I was closer. He looked at me intensely, his brow furrowed as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.
He held a bag of what I assumed was stuffed with coins, but that's not what captured my attention.
His glasses had drifted down his sharp nose ever so slightly, unveiling eyes of a colour I thought were only reserved for clear summer skies or shimmering, pristine water.
They were blue—an exquisite, profound blue.