Sapphic Voices General Fiction

 

 

Love And Sake

by Aru-chan
allisonpa[at]gaggle.net
Copyright © by Aru-chan, September 2006

 


This Story is incomplete as it is a Work In Progress. The Authoress requests the reader's feedback.


Sato Ayaka was bored. She gazed dully up at the ornately decorated ceiling. Stupid ancient-minded decorators, she thought angrily. There were only so many ways cranes and sakura petals could be painted before monotony set in. She wished Takara would hurry up and arrive. Then they could get this whole idiotic thing over with.

Languidly, she stretched and repositioned herself on the brightly coloured pillows that adorned the futon. Gods, why did everything have to be pink and white? Ayaka felt like she was in a grove of cherry trees, instead of inside a geisha house. Damn it! Why did the cicadas have to chirp so loudly? They wanted to create their own concert hall, most likely, she thought, a sour expression marring her chiseled features. Suddenly, with the tinkling of silver bells, the door swished open and Takara entered.

She was a strikingly beautiful woman, jet-black hair drawn up in a bun on the back of her head, revealing a slender, swan-like neck. Glittering, kohl-smudged dark almond-shaped eyes completed the picture. Ayaka rose, kimono swirling in agitation. “Damn you!” she cried, flinging up braceleted arms in exasperation. “What took you so long, by the Kami?”

Takara laughed, a silvery, lilting sound that put one in mind of a cascading waterfall. “Why are you so discomfited, Ay-chan?” she asked, beneficent smile never wavering.

Ayaka scowled mightily. “Don’t call me that, Ioudo-san!” she snapped. “I am no one’s little kitten, a plaything to dandle at any lord or lady’s whim.”

“I do not treat you as such, Sato-san. Why do you rail at me thus?” asked Takara, smile fading and a grim frown replacing it. “I called you that merely to reestablish the ties of friendship that link us together.” Her words were soft as silk, and her reappearing smile sweet as honey, but Ayaka was not fooled. The mama-san was lying through her gold-capped teeth. The only time that she spoke this sweetly meant she was after something.

“I do grow weary, Ioudo-san,” she muttered, inclining her head in the most perfunctory of bows. “Let us conclude this little matter before the sun sets and the moths take to our hair.” She scowled, looking askance at the open window that let in glancing beams of sunshine. How she despised this woman!

Ioudo Takara smiled again, making Ayaka wish she had a samurai’s sword, or even a wakizashi, to relieve her of the insipid expression. With a sigh, she sank back down onto the futon and beckoned for the other woman to do the same. “Well, is not this comfortable?” asked Takara with a sigh. She stretched out on the cushions and extended her delicate, graceful legs. Reaching into the breast of her kimono, she took out a pair of ivory dice. Slipping from the futon, she settled herself on the floor and moved close to the little table that was across from the futon. “Come now, Ayaka-san,” she said gaily, rattling the dice in her cupped palm. “Let us begin this little gambit.” So saying, she shook up the dice and threw them onto the marble surface of the table. Ayaka stood and resignedly sat down by the woman. She had a hard time not choking under the suffocating amount of perfume Takara wore.

She gazed listlessly down at the dice where they rested, seeming so innocuous, on the smooth tabletop. A five and a two winked up at her, the polished ivory catching the light of the sun. Bending over, she took the dice into her slender, unadorned fingers. Her hands shook slightly, but apart from that, she betrayed no outer sign of nervousness. “I suppose I must take a turn then,” she murmured, shaking the dice rather unenthusiastically. Takara threw her hands wide in an expansive gesture; “By all means!” her glittering eyes seemed to say. With a little resigned shrug, Ayaka cast the dice onto the table where they rebounded with a musical little tinkle.

Both women leaned forward, peering at the dice. A six and a four rested on the table, glittering gently. “Ah, well done, Ayaka-san!” cried Takara, clapping her neatly manicured hands. “Your number exceeded mine, so you get first choice. What shall it be, do you think? Choose!”

Ayaka sighed, frowning. She truly did not want to go through with this farce, but what else could she do? Takara held far too much over her head for her to back out now; she was in the confounded woman’s power. Her brow furrowed, and she frowned deeply, considering. Finally, with another shrug, she spoke softly: “Since I can think of no conceivable way to escape this trap, I suppose there is no other choice left to me. I must play your foolish little game.” Her face suddenly became grim, and a dangerous, angry light shone in her eyes. “You had best pray, Ioudo-san, that I lose your charming little game. If I win, you shall surely lose. I have long studied the art of the sword, and can easily become a samurai. There is no law against noble ladies becoming warriors, as you know well. You have many enemies, Taka-chan.” She smiled sweetly at the other, but there was venom hidden in the honey. “It would be so simple for me to offer my services to some lowly lord whom your fickle geishas had spurned. Then I would have a perfectly legitimate reason to end your miserable, pathetic excuse for a life!” Her eyes were snapping with enraged fire now, and her nostrils were flaring dangerously. If she had possessed a sword at that point, she would have brandished it threateningly at the geisha provider.

Takara just laughed and waved her hand, as if to dismiss Ayaka completely. “Come now, Ay-chan,” she cooed, reaching over and lightly brushing her soft fingers against Ayaka’s taut, trembling arm. “You do not need to shout threats at me, you should know that,” she whispered, and her voice was a low, silken purr that would have made any other person acquiesce to whatever demand she might make. “I am your friend. Surely, you realize this? True, you are altogether in my power, but I shall not use this situation to my advantage.” She leaned in close, and Ayaka was overwhelmed by the scent of jasmine and sandalwood, and Takara’s soft, velvety black hair brushed her arm. “We should be friends, ne?” she purred, breath blowing sweetly against Ayaka’s neck. “There is no need for such quarrelling between us. After all, I know where your brother is as well, don’t I?”

Ayaka drew in her breath in a sharp hiss and stiffened, the fire slowly fading from her onyx eyes. This was true indeed. Takara also knew where her estranged brother was, and contrary to her words, she would not hesitate to divulge his location to the local daimyo.

Her shoulders slumped, and she bowed briefly to the other woman, seething inside at this shame brought to her house. “I concede your point, Ioudo-san,” she said formally. “I will agree to whatever terms you name when our game has been decided.” She thought for a moment, then added: “My bet is for an even number.”

Takara smiled lazily and patted Ayaka’s arm. “I am delighted you have decided to see reason, Ayaka-san!” she trilled. “I, of course, shall bet odd.” She tossed the dice onto the table. To Ayaka’s rage and dismay, a seven again came up. Takara laughed lightly, and handed the dice to Ayaka. “So far, my friend, I have the upper hand.”

“We shall see about that,” muttered Ayaka, eyes flashing. “Odd!” She cast the dice. Clink. A two and a four. “Shimatta!” she cursed savagely, glaring over at Takara, as though this were her fault.

Takara’s grin widened, losing the sweetness and becoming devious, like the grin of a crocodile whose prey was in its clutches, all fangs and deadly, inhuman purpose. Takara looked like that now, and it unnerved Ayaka to see her so predatory. “Well, Ayaka-san,” she murmured, eyes glinting in the rays of the setting sun. “One more role for each of us will decide your fate, ne? I hope you lose.”

“And I hope that when your life is ended, you will go to hell where you belong. I hear Enma-sama is very fond of gamblers and whoremasters.” She grinned back at Takara, and there were daggers in her smile. “You should be right at home there. Come. Let us finish this little charade.” “I believe it will be even this time,” she whispered, eyes now calm, “and I think I will be correct.”

“If you say so,” replied the other, and threw the dice. A four and a two. Ayaka silently thanked Amida, the Buddha of compassion, and prayed that her luck held. In this game, the one who threw the most and won the bets would win, and Takara had been right most often. If both dice came up with the same number, it would be a forfeit, and Ayaka would win, but otherwise, she would lose. She reached out, slowly, and plucked the dice from the table. “I think it will be double numbers.” With a fervent prayer to all the gods who would listen, she tossed the dice. A two and a six. Rage and hatred flared in her, so fervently she thought she would burst from the strength of the pounding, negative thoughts in her head. A thousand curses she wished on the geisha house proprietress, and then a thousand more. She prayed that Enma-sama would turn all her geishas’ hair a drab, unattractive grey and blight their faces with blisters and sores. A pox on all whores!

Takara leapt to her feet, her eyes shining, and swept the dice from the table. “Well!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands once more and smiling more broadly than ever now. “It seems as though Benten-sama has frowned upon you this day. And why not? You seem to be naturally less fortunate than I, with your poor brother missing and—“

Before she had realized it, Ayaka was on her feet and had Takara by the shoulders, pressing her against the thin shoji wall. “Too many times have I heard you slander my brother’s good name! You know nothing of his situation, nothing! Yoshi is a good and honourable man, and he deserves none of the ignominy and shame heaped upon his head by you and others. The only reason Tebasho-sama is seeking him is through his own ignorance! Yes, I have spoken treason! I care not. If you speak another ill word of him, I shall forfeit my right to nobility and slit your throat where you stand! Do you mark me?” She shook the other woman violently, making her elaborately coiffed hair fall loose of its bun and slap the wall.

Takara said nothing for a moment. Ayaka half expected her to fly into a rage, break free and strike back, but she did none of that. She only straightened in Ayaka’s grasp, all traces of levity gone from her expression, and nodded. “I understand you well, Sato-san,” she murmured, and something resembling respect glimmered in her fine eyes. “You are still bound by the terms of our agreement, however. You are to stay here for three days, and during that time, one of my geisha will attend to your every need. I will hold to my promise and not reveal the location of your brother.”

“I thank you,” said Ayaka stiffly, inclining her head in the briefest of bows. She laughed bitterly. “I suppose, if I am to be kept in a prison, one as silken as this should be no hardship. It is only for three days, in any case.”

Takara laughed and threw an arm round the other’s shoulders. “You must not look so sorrowful, Saito-san! It is not as if I will harm you, and your dear brother will remain safe.”

“Yes, that he will, but only by your kindness. Is that not correct, Ioudo-san?”

“Oh, I implore you, Ayaka-san! Do not be this way!” pleaded Takara, seeming genuinely distressed. You must believe me when I tell you that I do not want your brother to come to harm. Indeed, I wish only the best for him! I wish only the best for him.”

“That I highly doubt,” replied Ayaka with a thin smile. “Besides, when it comes right down to it, I do not care what you feel. You are the last person I would expect aid from, given your past history, but nonetheless, I thank you for your help. I will not go so far as to call it ‘kindness,’ for you are never kind, except to your pets.”

Takara looked wounded, but the expression did not quite appear to reach her eyes. “You wound me deeply! I am always kind to those who deserve it; you simply fail to see it.” Ayaka smiled wryly, but said nothing to contradict her. Seeing this, she smiled. “I am glad you seem to see my point. I never punish others who are undeserving. Now, pray, let us cease this farce and attend to more important matters.” Clapping her hands, she turned to leave. “I will take my leave of you now, Ayaka-san. I will send one of my geisha to wait on you. Her company is yours for the length of your stay.”

Ayaka frowned and glared at the geisha house proprietor. “The last thing I want is one of your cursed geisha to remind me of you, Ioudo-san. I apologize if I am being too blunt, but these are my feelings.”

“Why, you offend me, Ioudo-san!


If you have enjoyed Aru-chan's "Love And Sake", then please be certain to e-mail her at  allisonpa[at]gaggle.net  and thank her for posting this Story.

Click here for a list of all of Aru-chan's  Stories and Poetry at  Sapphic Voices Authoresses.


 

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