Ren @dxm-b00 - Tumblr Blog

Not my first pick but I'll do it Make the cash right so I can move quickOut this shithole with a new whipCream on top and I'd approve it

characters: sub! courtesan! kokonoi x (AFAB) domme! madame! reader

cw / tw: courtesan! AU, unhealthy and uneven power dynamics, no actual smut yet but dubcon bath scene, angst angst and more angst, hinting towards sexual harassment for a female character (not seen or depicted in the story), prostitution/courtesan stuff, uuh let me know if i missed anything <3

a/n: here is the long awaited first part of my new koko series! also apologies but reader is like kinda specific,,, just immerse yourself into this character and enjoy the read! the first time I had to create like OCs for this story specifically.... the amount of effort dude... ca. 9.3k words

headers/dividers by @benkeibear

“There’s never enough time… never enough to enjoy the little peace I get.”

Kokonoi sighs and quietly walks back home through the emptiness of the early morning streets of Harima, spending what little free time he got today in the Futami Central Park. He looks at the parked train cars, a few of them lighting up, and he watches the way the train conductors settle into the seats fully, getting the train ready to drive into the main station. He marches on, instead of waiting around. If he wastes time again he will be scolded by the manager of the house, and an even worse punishment would await him if the Madam catches him. Halfway to the main station, the train drives past him, eerily quiet but nonetheless appreciated. He’d hate to hear the nasty squeaking of wheels piercing his ears, after enjoying the tranquility of the dawn.

Dragging his feet behind him he walks past the dull houses and cars, staying close to the almost washed away white line, seemingly guiding him back to House Shinowara. Entertaining himself a little he tries to walk on that straight line for a little while. Further, yet further, his feet carry him on this tiny street, walking past the unfinished construction site to his right, bright orange cones blocking the way for oncoming cars. Pushing the rough material of his kimono back he checks his worn out wristwatch and wonders when the workers will arrive. Maybe Yoshinori-san will be around today. While thinking of his acquaintance with the friendly, crooked smile, Kokonoi subconsciously wears a fond smile as well. After always walking this specific route to and from House Shinowara, Yoshinori Takeo was the simple minded man that took notice of him, striking up a seemingly shallow conversation. Kokonoi didn’t think much of him, secretly using this strange social butterfly as a lesson in entertaining the people around him. A lot of the ladies, the courtesans, wouldn’t exactly help someone of his status.

Over time their friendship grew in depth and fondness. More than anticipated, to say the least. It wasn’t often that Yoshinori kept finding small, neatly tied plastic bags at the construction site, packed with water bottles and his favorite snack. Kokonoi never admitted out loud that he left those inexpensive gifts, opting to roll his eyes instead, brushing him off before changing the topic. Even leaving the man hanging, his arms still open wide for a crushing hug. Those crushing hugs he's come to tactically evade, in order to save his ribcage. Looking over his shoulder he'd find himself poking out his tongue at the kindhearted man, overwhelmed with the need to tease him. His smile would fade a little, only after he’s out of sight. He had already been scolded more than once by the courtesans of his house, always hurrying home after his failed attempts to be on time. Now, his fond memories are suddenly tainted with a bitter aftertaste, one that has him scowl while walking away from the construction site. He shakes his head as if to shake off the unpleasant feeling.

As the distance between him and the construction site grows, he starts shivering more and more. The cold morning breeze flies past his even colder cheeks, biting at his skin.

Soon he comes across the tiny bookstore, owned by “Chitchi” a sweet older woman who really goes by the name Chitose and her trusty cat “Poppo”. The bright blue sign sticks out amidst the dull houses and apartment complexes. The house beneath the sign is however, still a dull color. He appreciates the change nonetheless, thankful for something beautiful catching his eye. It’s similar to finding a flower stubbornly growing between the cracks of an asphalt road. A pleasant sight. Shaking his head again with an amused smile playing around his lips, he pulls his kimono closed further, crossing his arms and tucking his exposed hands in. And on he goes.

He walks past shabby homes and half broken gates, not paying much attention, until the houses slowly grow in quality and color. He’s arrived at the nicer part of town. The word leaves a bad taste in his mouth. The gates seem to grow in strength and material, and the colors grow more vivid. Newer, of better quality probably. An unpleasant envy grows inside of him, while staring upon the nicer homes, especially when he can compare them to the homes not even a few steps behind him. A tiny road separates the two areas, like an invisible wall.

Before his resentment can get the chance to grow, he arrives at the familiar home in front of him, bright blue roof holding those walls together where he grew up and has come to spend his days. By now the sun is slowly peeking up from the horizon, bathing the still empty street in a gentle glowing light. He sighs, one last time, and opens the door with a sinking feeling in his heart.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

“An important guest is arriving today. Go. Bathe and get your prettiest kimono. Don’t you dare be late.” The words from the Madam ring clearly in his head as he’s brushing his now wet hair. Dragging the brush along the length of his hair until he reaches the middle of his abdomen. The length of his hair has become quite a hassle. A thought pops up in his head about cutting it. Running his fingers through the wet strands he’s become a little lost in thought. His “prettiest“ kimono hangs by the door of the shared room, next to two other kimonos, smaller in size. The colors aren’t as vivid as the ones he sees when serving the guests and courtesans of House Shinowara. He squints while staring off into the distance. An exhausted sigh comes from behind him as the other two servants get ready as well. Asami, the youngest, is playing with a tiny well-loved doll, while Minako sits behind her and holds a brush between her lips, trying to do the impossible… taming the mane in front of her. The tension of the entire House is seeping through the walls of their shared living space, and Kokonoi can feel the stress pouring out of the older sister. It’s never easy when you have only yourself to look after, he can’t imagine what it’s like to have a sibling to take care of as well.

It doesn’t take long, watching her struggle just makes him grow frustrated, and he’s standing next to the siblings, kneeling down on the floor and swiftly stealing the brush away from her. She’s almost offended, but steels herself when Koko gives a forced smile and keeps the brush out of her reach, simultaneously pointing at the light green robe hanging by the door. So she sighs instead, in defeat, nodding as a quiet thanks and gets up to ready herself.

Asami turns to him and stares up with big widened eyes. He relaxes his face from his smug smile, satisfied with getting his way, and gently pats her half brushed hair. He encourages her to continue playing in a gentle tone. He'll just take over for her sister and reassures her that she’d be right back. She nods in understanding after pondering about his answer for a while. And suddenly begins babbling about something that happened recently. He hums in response while trying to brush her hair as gently as possible. It is no easy task. Her hair is quite tangled, sadly so. He tries his best though, all while concentrating on when to answer the young girl in front of him. A pang of sadness hits his heart when her story turns incredibly sad, going on about a weird client making advances towards her sister, her young mind not able to understand his actions.

Kokonoi quietly apologizes. He’s not sure what for.

After the three of them finish, Minako takes Asami’s hand, grabbing the doll from her hands and placing it on a dresser near the door. And they make their way towards the kitchen, preparing everything for this seemingly important guest. Hushed whispers between the Oirans and the Madam can be heard in the hallway as the trio walks down. The only thing he can make out is something along the lines of “other Madam'' and “Takasago”.

Arriving in the kitchen the whispers can’t be heard fully, but the heavy footsteps seem to shake the floor almost. It’s an uneasy, hectic feeling all around. Trying to connect the dots in his mind, he prepares everything alongside the sisters. Him and Minako have gotten quite good at expertly dodging each other while working around one another. Asami… not so much. The young girl tries her best to help but… to be honest she’s in the way often. It’s good that she isn’t all that tall, so it’s easy to reach over her.

Preparations are always a bit blurry, even more so when he’s stressed. Not immune to the aura inside of the house, tainting his own mood. Only when the Madam steps inside the doorframe to the kitchen and barks more orders at him does his focus come back, trying to be faster in the presence of her observant eyes. Her oppressive aura is enough to even shut Asami up, hastily helping Minako to the best of her abilities. Everyone is avoiding the heavy gaze set on them from the doorframe. The harsher his Madam acts with them the more this subconscious resentment for this mystery guest grows. Inside the vengeful part of his mind, he’s set fire to the house already. But in reality he just keeps working, brows furrowed slightly.

When the Madam finally leaves after throwing one last demeaning insult followed by a scoff, Minako turns to him and presses her thumb between his eyebrows wordlessly. She smoothes over his scowl with a gentle touch, like any big sister would do. He finds it in himself to roll his eyes at her and scoff, just like the Madam did before. He’s pretty sure she knows that he appreciates it though, it’s nice that the “lowest trash” of this house can stick together.

Setting the last piece down in the guest room, the hum of an engine from outside fades into his awareness... And the engine seems to slow down, right in front of the house. Kokonoi quickly nudges a slightly trembling Asami towards the entrance where everyone was waiting. And it’s only after everyone is kneeling in line at the hallway, except for the Madam and the Manager, of course, that the mystery guest of the day reveals themselves. The door opens and the natural light of the day flows into the before dimly lit entrance.

A young woman of a shorter, yet powerful stature steps inside their estate. She formally greets everyone with a smile playing around her lips and bows politely. She then walks further inside with a smile best described as a business-like grin, which makes no sense to him, really. Her professional monochrome clothes immediately stand out from the traditional and colorful clothes surrounding her. A woman in a suit is a rare sight indeed, and judging from the look on the Managers face, a not very welcome sight. Kokonoi secretly watches the way the old man picks at his own clothes. The clothes on her seem tailored, they fit her body perfectly. He finds himself staring up at her in silent awe… he doesn’t miss the tiny wink sent his way while she walks past and steps into the big guest room. He slaps himself mentally and quickly averts his gaze out of respect. The trio waits for the homeowners and courtesans to enter the guest room first and follow shortly after, kneeling in the entrance of the guest room.

After unbuttoning the single button holding your dark blazer together, you don’t take the usual approach of kneeling on the pillow that was readied for you, opting to instead sit cross legged on it. Right across the table from their own Madam, surprising everyone inside of the room. Kokonoi isn’t sure you’re even paying attention to the manager, her husband, sitting next to her. Eyeing their expressions carefully, it doesn’t seem to him like the elderly couple holds you in very high regard.

Then, leaning back on your hands, you wait to be served with a disparaging, condescending smile. The rude demeanor makes the Madam shake her head in disdain, and somehow… it doesn’t seem to bother you at all? At least from what Kokonoi can tell, as an outsider here. And he’s in no position to judge a sort-of honored guest. He shifts his attention elsewhere.

The courtesans of house Shinowara sit in a restless row on the windowless side of the room, waiting for their turn to be spoken to. The big windows shine a perfect light on their intricate makeup and costly hair ornaments. Flowers adorn their hair and the metal strips of their two-pronged steel ornaments move independently, making the faintest clink noises. They all seem more excited than usual, only dolling up for clients or beloved family members of the Madame visiting. Kokonoi eyes them from his place off to the side, even noticing the nicer, more expensive garments hugging their bodies today. Very clearly dressing to impress. He huffs noiselessly. It’s not like he needs to draw more attention to himself and therefore any extra pairs of judging eyes on him.

Asami, who’s tinier hand is grabbing onto the fabric of his sleeve, seems nervous around the powerful presences looming in the room. Once again he’s taken by surprise at how observant children can be. He tries to soothe her by patting her now soft hair trying to remain unnoticed, uncaught. He wonders if this woman before them is the Madam from Takasago. He picks at the cheap fabric engulfing him, suddenly insecure when surrounded by all these obviously richer people. His quiet resentment festers.

The chance to stay inside of the guest room doesn’t come often, and after being shooed out through a wordless icy glare, he takes the sisters and leaves immediately. He doesn’t need to be told twice. From this point forward he only gets to be inside when it’s to serve the domestic Madam and her guest, owner of House Hanamurasaki, which he learned by listening to the bright chatter from your side. He’s preparing the things for the traditional tea ceremony, sadō, and in an overly polite manner excuses himself before leaving.

He is, however, not that stupid and notices your curious and playful gaze landing on him everytime he steps inside of the room. The tiniest part of him wonders if he’s really that distracting to you, making you avert your focus and attention completely from the Madam and Manager in front of you. He quickly pushes the idea back in the depths of his heart. Since he does hate the way your gaze makes his usually trained hands tremble. He feels like he’s being evaluated and it just increases his uncertainty. You don’t exude a mean spirited aura exactly, but your standing seems to be no joke if every tenant inside of the estate was up in arms about your visit. Especially after you've acted in rash and inappropriate ways towards the owners… and not a single soul has spoken up or reprimanded you.

After yet another strange encounter, accompanied by the looming feeling of observation from the two Madams inside, he joins the sisters in the kitchen while shaking his head. The two of them welcome him and they, like always, exchange a few hushed whispers about the situation inside that noisy room. Your boisterous laughter rings through the walls, followed by the high pitched giggles of every courtesan trying to kiss up to you. He yanks down the creeping feeling of jealousy and buries it deep down inside of him; right by the innocent wonder he stowed away just before. To fill the empty space in his heart, he imagines himself placing a clear glass of disdain for his fellow housemates instead. His swirls of emotions and train of thought are interrupted suddenly.

“Kokonoi, the Madam from Takasugo is strange…” Asami’s quiet voice reaches through the veil of negative feelings and pulls him right back into reality. Out of the corner of his eye he notices the way Minako froze, currently drying the freshly rinsed cups. She slowly turns towards her young sibling, lowering the half-wet towel in her hand. Kokonoi leans down a little and pats her head affectionately.

“Asami, don’t worry… a lot of grown ups are strange. Make sure not to stand out too much and stick by your sister, okay?” He dusts off her shoulder gently, smoothing over her small kimono and making sure her hair is presentable again. The young girl then fixes her stare to the floor and begins mumbling something, nervously bunching up the kimono under her fists. Kokonoi is pretty used to dealing with the children in the neighborhood and squats down almost immediately, trying to peek at her expression from underneath. Her usually curious, but otherwise happy face is pulled together in a confused scowl. He almost coos at her, she’s even adorable when pouting, tiny cheeks mushing together. She mumbles again and Minako appears behind her, putting her hands on her shoulder and leaning her taller frame over, trying to peek at her face as well. They both try to make out what she’s trying to say. After some encouragement from her big sister she finally whispers a little louder.

“Her eyes don’t smile at all. Only her mouth.”

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Kokonoi is kneeling in front of the table where not one, but two Madams are currently staring him down. Everyone else, even the manager was sent outside. It is not surprising that he grumbled angrily like a bear before going outside to the terrace to smoke his cigar. He can almost smell the choking stench from here.

Meanwhile his own gaze is lowered out of respect and fear, suddenly made to be the center of attention. It makes him a little too nervous. Did he do something wrong? If he’s learned anything it's that he better not stand out too much, in general but particularly if he doesn’t want any trouble. He doesn’t dare to look up, in case it’s not wished for by the Madam of the house. His Madam. Better said, his current Madam.

“What do you say?” You inquire with a smile and squinted eyes, your voice doesn’t hold a lot of affection however. You lean on the table next to you and lean your chin on your palm.The patterned silver rings on your fingers shine brightly. Curling your fingers into the fat of your own cheek, you start tapping it with your index finger impatiently. It’s almost unnoticeable at first, but it seems like a part of your left pinkie finger is missing… What happened to her finger?

His current Madam sighs, albeit a bit too loudly, and tears her gaze away from the eccentric woman in front of her, closes the fan in the palm of her wrinkly hand and continues: “She has made me an offer already. It seems you have caught the eye of House Hanamurasaki, somehow…” the snide remark rips a way into his pride, “She’s extended her kindness to our humble little house, it would be rude to dismiss this opportunity, no?” She hits her own palm with the fan in her hand and fixes her harsh gaze on him, enunciating the ‘no’ very clearly.

He knows exactly what this means. He’s not allowed to refuse. It doesn’t seem like she intends to fight for him at all, to deem him worthy enough to try and keep around. He bites his tongue and keeps his head lowered while Asami’s words from before pop up in his mind again. Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. That’s basically what the girl was trying to say. Yet again amazed at the way young children often observe the world around them better than some adults do.

You eye the Madam of House Shinowara out of the corner of your eye with a disinterested look. The ‘can’t you just stop yapping and be quiet you old bag’ is written all over your face, if anyone paid enough attention that is. Steeling your expression again you turn to the pitiful but beautiful servant, kneeling nearby. “I’m sure you’ll feel comfortable at House Hanamurasaki. We’re still new but we do serve only the best,” You scoot closer to him and shamelessly reach out for his cheek, and make him face you. When his careful and shaky gaze locks onto yours, an excited shimmers lights your eyes up and you go on, “You are just what I need. I see great potential in you, and I, of course, only take the prettiest to become my beloved Oirans,” you pause for a second, your pretend façade falling slightly and the tone bleeds into a serious one, “I think you could become a most sought-after Tayū even.”

The powerful words hang in the air.

He doesn’t even know if they were real or empty promises. He’s not sure what to think right now. His entire life so far has been tainted by this oppressive weight of poverty forced upon him at a young age. Suddenly an opportunity presents himself, to break into an upper rank, further away from this life he hates so much? He should cry with joy, press his forehead into the floor and thank the heavens above for his savior. But in his heart he only feels uncertainty and doubt. It's almost too good to be true. He quickly schools his face into a soft smile and nods his head towards his future Madam. When you let his cheek go, he bows deeply and thanks you, politely, emotionless, and is excused from the guest room by his current Madam. Outside he can still hear the way a suddenly serious discussion is being held, naming dates and prices. They are talking about him as if he were an article or item. Unfeeling.

Even the energy outside the room shifted, poisoning the air. The courtesans won’t look at him anymore and even Minako and Asami turn away when he takes a step towards them. After trying to ask them what’s wrong Minako quickly drags her sister away and they leave him standing alone in the cold hallway.

What is going on?

He staggers over to the kitchen and takes a seat, his world crashing down on his head while the muffled business discussion about his sale bleeds through the walls of the room next to him.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“I can see you, you know.” Kokonoi stops brushing his hair and turns away from the stained mirror to the entrance where a tiny familiar face is peeking out from the corner. Her hair is a mess and she seems upset, obviously frowning. But even after he acknowledges her presence sneaking around him, she makes no move to come closer or talk to him. He honestly feels a little hurt. After staring at the young girl a little longer, he grips the old brush tighter in his hand and huffs loudly in frustration and turns towards the mirror again. Continuing to brush his hair with harsh strokes, this time with an audience.

The silence isn’t as comfortable as it used to be. He can’t help the way his eyes move back to her in the mirror. He wants to talk with her like he usually did, brushing her bird's nest of hair and giggling together about Minako’s strange but endearing eating habits. He misses them. Neither of the sisters have talked to him in the last two weeks. Heavy silence forced all three of them to walk on eggshells around each other, only exchanging two or three rushed words whenever guests and clients came to visit. It’s a suffocating silence, filled with unspoken yearning for connection. After another one of his countless attempts, he tries to focus on himself again, but it’s even worse when he finds his own upset gaze in the reflection. He feels… bad and just sad. But he feels even worse, especially for Asami, she’s probably too young to truly understand what is happening. Not even he himself is sure what the reason for this sudden change is, he just wishes someone would finally fill him in. The silent treatment feels like an unjust punishment.

The faintest familiar tug on his sleeve has him flinch away and lock eyes with an even more startled Asami. They blink at each other once, twice, three times, before Kokonoi finally breathes again and lets his shoulder slump, tension leaving his body. How did she get here so fast? He’s about to scold her for sneaking up on him, but she’s quicker to crawl onto his lap, making herself comfortable while he just looks on in bewilderment. Her sad expression in the mirror is nearly enough for him to start tearing up as well. This is all so unnecessary. His gaze softens and he grabs the old brush again, smoothing over her hair before taking the strands in between his fingertips and brushing the unrelenting knots out of her hair again, like he always does.

No words are spoken between the two, but he feels the desolation seeping through her body into his. He hopes to console her a little by helping her look and feel better. You won’t feel good, if you don’t at least look good and presentable. So he continues, brushing her hair gently while she sneaks a few glances at him through the cheap mirror. He hums a tiny tune, as he rarely likes to do. She gently rocks from left to right, closing her eyes and letting him take care of her unkempt hair. Inside of his mind he scolds Minako for letting it get this bad again. It’s a miracle how he manages to brush her hair without ever tugging on it too harshly and accidentally hurting her in the process. Through the familiarity of this action they fall into silence once more, this time a more comforting one.

“Will you… will you go away… forever?” Asami suddenly speaks up.

His brushing comes to a halt.

He shakes his head gently and looks at her through the mirror. Not wanting to lie, he answers honestly: “I don’t know Asami, I’ve been invited to House Hanamurasaki. That’s two towns over so I won’t be far.” he trails off and takes a moment to rack his brain for a better way to assure the young girl that things would stay the same, even if everything was about to change, “But they want to teach me a lot of things there… like calligraphy and playing those instruments you love so much. I… I will probably be very… very busy.” Each word he manages to press out feels like a needle in his heart. Trying to carefully choose his words, keep his tears at bay, so this child would understand, not be lied to and somehow still feel comforted. It’s not easy. “I’ll try to write and visit whenever I can, would that make you happier?” He trails off again, waiting hopefully for the answer, for the confirmation that he’s handling this maturely and well.

“.... I don’t know how to write.”

Asami’s downright heartbreaking words rip their way right into his own heart, tears threatening to spill over any second now. He bites his tongue and throws his head back, repeating ‘don’t cry don’t cry’ inside of his head. The unfairness of her situation just gets to him in a way not a lot of things can. Almost uncaring for his own wellbeing, he’s more worried and concerned for her. What will happen when he’s gone… will Minako be able to protect them both?

Gathering himself he chokes out a “I’m sure Minako can help you. You have to promise me you’ll learn so we can keep in touch, yes?”

His pinky finger hangs in the air, waiting for the tiny hand to complete the promise and Asami reaches out, almost completing it but harshly flinches back when an unnoticed third person starts speaking.

“You better not forget about us. You hear me?” The stern voice behind them startles the two and they turn around quickly, coming face to face with a Minako, staring out their small window, “if you do… don’t even think about coming back here. I mean it.”

Kokonoi and Asami stare quietly at the small figure on the other side of their minimal shared bedroom. How did she get in here so quietly? Asami slides off of his lap and waddles over to her big sister. Seeing the icy expression, the front Minako put up, slowly melting, replaced by the smile of a big sister, warms Kokonoi’s heart and he smiles at the siblings before speaking up.

“I will. I promise.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The days go by in a flash, much too quickly for his liking. After the misunderstanding is cleared, he spends the last bit of his free time with the siblings. As much as he can, and as much as his soon to be ex-Madam allows it. He even went out of his way to push the rules a little, taking the girls outside when he wasn’t supposed to, bringing them just down the street to the bookshop, meeting Poppo the soft and lazy cat, petting it gently while Chitose happily gushed about the young girls in front of her. Her grandmotherly love spilling out freely. Asami has never looked happier than when she received a tiny bag of sweets from the kind old lady living so close nearby. Just a few minutes away and she never even knew. Minako accepts the presents with a deep bow and red ears peeking out from her hair. The woman chortles happily and he just smiles on at their antics, Chitose's shaky hand petting Minako’s hair affectionately.

Kokonoi enjoys this time spent with the sisters. With his sisters. With the family… he’s leaving behind.

He tries to ignore the uncertain future looming over his shoulder, adding to the weight he carries around. With an uneasy heart he watches helplessly as the day of his departure arrives. None of the courtesans are standing with him, saying their goodbyes. Only his sisters are by his side, as they have been since the beginning. He regrets only noticing when it's too late.

The madam is there too, but she’s off to the side sitting in her rocking chair and smoking out of her pipe. The manager, as per usual, is nowhere to be found. The scowl never leaves her face, bringing down the already depressed mood even more. She disturbs the still somber silence with a frustrated sigh every now and then, he does his very best to try and pay it no mind. Sitting by the one bag of belongings he’s taking with him, Minako and Asami lean on either arm. Words are left unspoken, stuck in his throat, maybe even deeper down in his heart. Stuck between his fond memories and unresolved fights from his endless past. Muddled thoughts are interrupted by the revving of a car. He hangs his head and plays with the tips of his freshly washed hair, mindless.

A sleek black car makes its way into their combined view, he spots you inside right away. He can already see the way you start grinning when the familiar blue roofs come into view. The trio slowly stands up as you park the car, dusting themselves off awkwardly. Even the Madam manages to get herself up, still puffing at her pipe, seemingly inconvenienced. You get out of the car and push your sunglasses up, moving your hair back out of your face. He’s not surprised at the way he holds his breath at the sight of you. Your skin was glowing in the afternoon sun and your outfit was a little less formal than last time, but it still exuded a certain authority and professionalism. Walking around your car you lock it and casually stuff the keys into your light gray slacks. The sleeveless blouse compliments your figure well and Kokonoi has to avert his gaze, scolding himself internally for thinking of you that way when he’s supposed to be sad about leaving. The tiniest voice in the back of his head argues that his actions are justified, since you’re just that beautiful and it’s not a crime to admire someone’s beauty. He cringes internally at himself for that.

The goodbyes are said faster than he’d like. A tight embrace shared between his newfound family, the sisters clutching onto him as if to say “please don’t go”. It’s so predictable, how once the dam breaks and the tears begin falling, there’s almost no way to stop them. Minako and Asami nearly pull away, feeling the glare from the Madam but he pulls them right back and hugs them tightly. As tight as he can. He hopes all the unspoken feelings between the three of them would be conveyed well through this one action before he goes away.

Once they part, Asami reaches up and, not so discreetly, wipes the tear droplets from the crown of her head with a tiny pout, he laughs at her through his tears and apologizes quietly, gently wiping her hair with the sleeve of his kimono.

You watch the scene from the sidelines, leaning against the hood of your car with an unreadable expression. Your face is, of course, schooled into a sympathetic smile but the sight of these three strangers whose bond apparently runs deeper than you thought tugs at something buried deep inside of your subconscious. Something you’d rather not think about right now. A gentle smile, lipstick smeared on the corner of her mouth… you can still see it crystal clear in your mind’s eye. Shaking off the thought with a tiny laugh of disbelief at yourself, you cross your arms. This accidentally grabs the attention of the three servants and they quickly scatter with flushed faces. Quickly you wave them off and reassure them to take all the time they need, you’ve reserved from today on forward for Kokonoi. But it seems like they’ve noticed that they have an audience of two and are suddenly too embarrassed to continue.

Their goodbyes are said quietly as you stalk over to Madam Takeuchi, shaking her boney hand firmly with your signature smile, squinting at her scowl but forcing yourself to stay polite. She makes some sort of comment, who knows about what, it goes in through one ear and shoots straight out the other. The old witch can yap all she wants now, but you’ve stolen her prettiest servant that she wasn’t utilizing well. Bite me, you old hag. You put down your sunglasses, hiding your eyes and nodding as if you were listening intently to her. Curious eyes find themselves drawn to the pretty servant now standing awkwardly near your car, glancing over, stance turning nervous and unsure the longer you let him wait and squirm. For good measure you stay and look at him just a little longer, just a little more. Even shifting your focus to the girls, who are holding hands, clearly not wanting to go back inside just yet.

However, not wanting to stay near the wrinkly and strict Madam you are quick to make your exit. Pointing towards her old servant and reminding her why you’re here with a condescending smile. The half spoken sentence hangs in the air as she presses her lips into a thin line before giving her best forced smile and wishing you well on your way back home. Seems you accidentally interrupted her. Oh well. Thanking her graciously with the faintest mocking undertone, you walk past the other servants, the tiniest sting in your heart when you look upon the youngest girl who’s averted her gaze from you. Pushing that underlying feeling of injustice down, you clench your jaw and bid the girls goodbye, waving to them and in the same move turning around to Kokonoi. The newest addition to your House in Takasago. Wordlessly you beckon him to follow you and to bring his bag, and so he does. How obedient. Opening the spacious trunk you let him place his bag down and you watch in amusement as he hesitates for a second, before placing it in the corner. Out of sight, not in the way. The quick mental note is added in your mind as you close the trunk and walk to the passenger side, opening the door for him.

Watching him struggle with being treated normally makes you want to laugh very badly, but you’re still in front of the old bag’s house so hold it in. After he scrambles and hurriedly reassures you that you don’t have to do that for him, you only point into the car with a smirk. Shoulders sinking in defeat he accepts his fate of being teased and sits inside. Pushing the door closed you wave one last time to the three onlookers, making your way back to the drivers side. Climbing inside you pull the door closed behind you and almost fasten your seatbelt, when you notice him struggling with his. Your smile falls. “Have you never been in a car before?”

“No Ma’am.” The answer comes rather quickly, and you catch him tucking his long hair behind his ear which was slowly turning red. Fiddling with his hands so nervously. It was incredibly endearing. Shaking your head you reach over and fasten it for him, pitying the young man so you just help.

“No shame in learning now, right?”

The familiar voice rings in your head and you instinctively clench your jaw, upset that this person won’t leave your head today. While eyeing the missing tip of your left pinkie finger with disdain, you try to divert those feelings. The blame covertly shifts to the scene from before, the shared tearful hug. Kokonoi quietly thanks you as you wave him off and fasten your own seatbelt, getting ready to drive back to Takasago. It should be a forty minute drive if you were lucky, once you pass Kakogawa river and Banshuo bridge you’ll blow through traffic in no time.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

The drive was unusually quiet, conversation wise. Dragging out the tense silence you don’t turn on the music on purpose, opting for a quiet drive through the cities. Passing by hotels, big complexes, tiny houses, stores and schools. You eye him out of the corner of your eye and catch him staring wistfully out the window, watching the city go by. Smiling to yourself you focus on the road ahead, silently going through the schedule for today in your head. Only two things were very important, for now. First, grab the ordered fabric from Aoyama’s and second, collect the Makeup from Mika’s. Your suppliers were hounding you already for forgetting about your own orders, long lasting partnership not helping your case this time. You must have sighed in frustration out loud, not just in your head, because Kokonoi turns to you with a concerned look written all over his face. He’s incredibly expressive… very easy to read.

Before he can ask, you lift your hand and put up two fingers. He presses his lips together again and watches the way you part them. “We have to make two stops for some important items, then we’ll get you to House Hanamurasaki.” You don’t ask if it’s alright with him, it would have been a hypothetical question anyway, and you don’t want him to misunderstand. He nods in understanding anyway. Leaning back into the plush comfortable seat. Then the two of you are left in the car, almost as if you were put on mute. You break the silence first.

“Are you nervous?” a simple question, really.

“I’d be lying if I said no, Ma’am.” he smiles politely, forced. But when you stay quiet and wait for him to go on he does just that, “I am, however, still looking forward to my new… House.”

You silently note the professional use of “House” instead of “Home”. Not for any particular reason, you were just interested in this young man’s mind and the way he thinks.

“I’m sure you’ll enjoy your time in our House. My Oirans are a lively bunch… you’ll fit right in, after we dress you up.” you put the emphasis on ‘my’, afterall you hand-picked all of these women, they better live up to your expectations.

Kokonoi doesn’t say anything after that, nodding his head and fixing his gaze onto the road ahead, watching the pharmacies, houses and then even a public pool go by. He seems to be lost in thought so you focus on yourself again, planting your free foot onto the carpet and letting your mind wander again. Driving basically on autopilot. You don’t even care about Kokonoi stealthily trying to grab the handle on the inside of the car door, gripping it tightly as you carelessly swerve through lanes and in between other cars. As soon as you see the big parking space to your left side, you get into the lane furthest to the left, without indicating it via turn signal, and turn into the new road, making your way towards the tailor shop, driving past the small bakery and carelessly turning left again, speeding into the parking lot and parking the car with a quick brake. Kokonoi tries to hold onto the handle discreetly, but to no avail. Before you get out of the comfortable seat you turn towards Kokonoi who looks at you expectantly.

“Come on. You want to make a good impression on my favorite suppliers, yeah?” You don’t wait for an answer and unbuckle his seatbelt, getting out of the car and stretching your arms over your head dramatically first. Kokonoi follows soon after, smoothing down his kimono hastily, looking around the unfamiliar part of the city.

‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The car parks for the fourth time today and hopefully for the last time. Kokonoi's first impression of you might have led him to believe that you'd be a careful driver, but it seems that in certain moments you can become quite reckless and uncaring of the other drivers on the road. Not daring to offend, he doesn't comment, even if the other cars coming dangerously close to his side have him clenching his fists and legs together, bracing for the impact. It never came.

House Hanamurasaki really lives up to its name. A big building, even bigger than his previous house, stands proud in the so-called “Flower Town”. The, of course, purple flowers adorning the lavish entrance don’t go unnoticed and he admires everything not so secretly while following after his new Madame, right into the front entrance. The inside is even more impressive, everything around him seems to scream quality. The floor looks better, the windows are bigger and the decorations are painted with more precision. He nearly laughs in disbelief but quickly catches himself with a cough. He avoids your happy questioning face. Seems like you already know what he’s feeling right now, he feels like you read him a little too well.

Two female servants, dressed in plain light purple kimonos, greet the two of you and welcome their Madame home. Both of these women are almost interchangeable, from the way they stand, the way they are dressed, their short haircuts. You drop the many bags into their hands and quickly thank them. Kokonoi observes the way you treat your servants. It isn’t exactly nice, it seems almost obvious to you that they are here to serve you, but you don’t treat them harshly or with a condescending tone. I guess that’s… good?

The two servants quickly stow away the bags and another one glides into the hallway, informing the Madame about the bathroom being ready for use again. This woman is wearing a slightly darker shade of purple and has her hair tied in a strict bun at the back of her head. Round glasses frame her, surprisingly young, face. You thank “Ainosuke” and she responds with a nod. You look back at him, wordlessly telling him to come by tilting your head towards the well lit hallway stretching out in front of him. He quickly hurries after you and the servants in light purple follow not long after. He looks back one last time to Ainosuke, standing still by the entrance, watching the four of them disappear with a blank stare.

Walking past many different hallways and rooms he meets the gazes of the ladies who reside in this house. Many of them are not in their usual getup, since it is only the beginning of the afternoon. Of course, most courtesans work at nighttime, since that is when the Flower Town lights up, guests bustling through the streets, picking out courtesans like pretty flowers from a meadow.

Peering into one open door where a heavy wave of fragrance wafts through the air, he finds that inside sits a courtesan with a sharp glare, eyeing him up and down, tiny shears left open in one hand. He freezes. It feels like he’s a deer in headlights, a prey caught in the line of sight of a predator just waiting to strike. The stressful aura dissipates as soon as you take a few steps back and poke your head around the door into the room. Suddenly that ice-cold stare from before is nowhere to be found, instead her features are lined with a soft smile and a twinkle in her eyes, waving at you with a slow, calculated and graceful motion. Released from the oppressive stare he looks around the room and finds many flower arrangements decorating the room, all in different shapes, sizes, colors and vases. An unfinished arrangement lies right in front of her. Seems like she’d be the person to ask about it, if he ever needs help. He tucks that mental note away and watches the way you wave to this unnamed courtesan before continuing on, further into the house.

A different room contains another older-looking courtesan kneeling at a low table, an almost motherly look to her as she teaches two young girls about, what seems to be, calligraphy. He spots the ink, the brushes and parchment spread out on the table in front of them. The young maikos huddle around and seem very immersed in what their mentor is saying, nodding with a serious frown on their faces. They pay no attention to the people walking past.

No one around him is currently speaking, silently leading the way, so he gets the chance to hear many different sounds, the faint clinking of ornaments, conversations between courtesans and their personal servants, even faint laughter somewhere. A sadness deep within him bubbles up to the surface. He wishes he could have started his early life in House Hanamurasaki instead, and taken his sisters with him.

Not paying much attention after that, he finds himself mindlessly stepping through the doorstep of a big spacious bathroom. Bigger than any bathroom he ever cleaned back in House Shinowara. His admiring gaze doesn’t go unnoticed and you smile proudly again, the two servants ushering him to get further inside towards the bath. You, in the meanwhile, close the door behind you. The sound of the lock clicking into place makes him look over his shoulder to you. Curious, still nervous. He obviously doesn’t trust easily.

You grab a seat in the corner of the room, crossing your legs and your arms, leaning against the wall to your right, observing the scene in front of you. No one has to pay attention to you right now, your servants know what to do. The two of them get to work, and open nearby cabinets, fishing the needed items out with haste. Shortly after, they stretch out the options towards a puzzled Kokonoi, letting him choose his favorite scents. He’s nervously looking back and forth from either option, trying to wave them off politely.

You faintly hear him hastily push out a “It doesn’t matter to me, really. Anything is fine!” which makes you chuckle quietly to yourself. Of course. But you’ve taught them well and they don’t let up until he makes a decision for himself, it will be one of many many more after all. He gets to choose which towel he prefers, and how warm he likes his bath to be. He will be pampered and he will feel grateful to you. Your eyelids are heavy from exhaustion and they fall closed on their own when you laugh silently, keeping them closed longer than usual for the first time today, relaxing after the stressful ordeal of acquiring a new courtesan for your House. Only the nervous heightened voice coming from the other side of the room makes you open an eye again. Much to your disdain.

Encouraging him to get undressed, his bath now ready, the servants hound him from either side. He won’t be going anywhere before he’s bathed. You aren’t too keen on keeping him around without getting all that old hag smell off of him. What client would want a beautiful courtesan to smell like despair and hopelessness. Opening your other eye, you uncross your arms, opting to instead prop your elbow on your knee, leaning your heavy head on it. Spectating again, watching his expressions closely as he glances over to you, keeping his worn out kimono closed with one hand, while fending off your servant's eager hands with the other. After wrestling with him for a little while it seems like he won't give up. In any other circumstance you’d admire his tenacity. In the end, almost as if on cue, the twins glance back, short hair whipping around their faces as they look to you for guidance. You keep your stare on them looking back and forth slowly, holding each for a minute, before sighing and speaking up loudly for the first time since you’ve set foot in the bathroom.

“What’s the matter?”

He whips his head up to you, an appalled look on his face. All the color of his body seems to be rushing to his cheeks and ears instead. He stammers out some sort of explanation, something about how he can undress himself, something else about his dignity and then something about how indecent this is. Quite frankly, you’re not listening at all. All you want is to fall into your bed and sleep. You try not to let your exhaustion show and sigh, sluggishly putting your hand over your eyes and encouraging him to go on with a dismissive wave.

“This should be fine, yeah?” You don’t want to hear him complain, it’s clear from the way you frame your question.

He bites his lip, he knows the servants don’t care and don’t mind. But he does. It’s really embarrassing to undress and become so vulnerable in front of strangers. He shifts nervously from one foot to the other, unsure of what to do now. It’s not like you’re staring him down with a piercing and unnerving stare. No one has touched him in his private places. Nothing bad has happened, so why are there tears brimming in his eyes? Frustration wells up inside of him, maybe even pushed further by a creeping fear rattling his brain.

“Nothing will happen, I’m not interested in that sort of thing.” You state, matter-of-factly.

He almost scoffs in response, but quickly catches himself. It doesn’t help a lot, but it’s not like he wants to inconvenience the people around him. The people that could be saving him from an even worse situation. Hell, this is the first bath he got to choose his favorite scents for. He’s being treated… normally for the first time, is he even in a position to refuse the outstretched hand that fate has given to him?

“Unless… you’re already offering yourself up to me?” Your smirk shows right under your hand and is followed by a boisterous laugh halling off the tiles. You clearly aren’t taking his feelings seriously from the way you joke.

His heart sinks down from his tight chest to his twisting stomach… He bites his lip again while his vision grows blurry. He doesn’t want to debase himself, but it seems like no one will let up. With a hushed whisper he asks the servants to please not look while he gets undressed, finished up politely with a bow. They look at each other first, unsure if they should listen to him or their Madame sitting right behind them. The servant with the downturned lips to his left finally nods and they both lower their heads and wait. So, he takes this quick moment of little privacy and shrugs off the uncomfortable fabric, pressing his lips together. The other servant silently stretches her forearm out and he drapes the fabric over it. Hiding his private parts with one hand, he uses the other to hesitantly take the outstretched hand of the other woman and climbs into the filled tub. The warm water made him flinch at first, skin not used to the temperature just yet. The servants had averted their gazes during this entire ordeal, respecting his wishes. He’s slightly thankful he’s at least one rank above them.

The warm water engulfs his tense body, a fresh scent wafting in his nose as he sits down, holding onto the edges. Watching you closely again, he makes sure that you’re keeping your word. And you do. You didn't open your eyes or take away your hand once, until the servants informed you that he’s fully inside the ofuro bath.

“See? Wasn’t so bad, was it?” You state again, resuming the position you had before, head propped up on your palm. Your tone is emotionless despite the words having a teasing edge to them.

He bites his lip and averts his gaze again, nodding his head lightly in defeat.

Kokonoi has never been washed by someone else before, even at a young age. It’s strange to be pampered and taken care of like this. The washcloth isn’t too rough on his skin, the servants work the shampoo into his scalp gently but thoroughly. Shivers run down his spine as the tension slowly leaves his body. They are washing him very thoroughly and he lets it happen. Is his face hot from the bath or the humiliation? He himself isn’t sure at this point.

And you, you make no move to get closer, peeking into the bath or abusing the vulnerable position he found himself in. Would it be alright to let his guard down a little right now? The warm embrace of the water also makes him realize how utterly tired his body is, not just from the eventful day, but the stressful week- no years he’s trying to leave behind him for now.

The only thing he can’t do that to is his sisters. He quietly wonders how Asami and Minako are doing. Will they be alright? One of the women taking care of him, smoothes out the concerned crease between his eyebrows. The familiar gesture makes him relax his shoulders subconsciously.

While your newest addition is getting all the dirt and stress rubbed out and from him, you decide to lean back against the wall again, the room and its sounds slowly fading out of your awareness. Deep in thought, you rub what remains of your pinkie gently while looking up at the ceiling. An uneasy feeling creeps up into your stomach, slowly rearing its ugly head and coming out of hiding. And who else but that person unwillingly crashes into your thoughts again.

“No use in complaining about it now, right?” You recall the words said through a wobbly smile, tears brimming in her eyes. You were too young to understand back then. Silently taking the handkerchief from her bruised and shaky hands to dry the tears on her face, unsure what to say, brows furrowed in concern and lips pressed into a thin line.

Tsumaki…. the two of you are way too similar.

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