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The wooden bachi strongly held between his fingers, he accompanied the wistful sound of his own singing voice with the almost too cheerful hit of the 3 chords. The familiar song of tragedies, often requested by his clients, came naturally to his fingers in the silent loneliness of his room.
Fingers cramped and white breath, the extra winter layers weighted down on him, yet his precious wooden window, only contact to the world outside, remained open. The Yoshiwara underneath a freezing beige foreshadowing the upcoming Shimotsuki, above a sky blue as far as you could see with a sun resembling a piece of kirigami pasted right on top.
Deaf to the loud greetings given to customers that had just arrived, he continued to play in his room, hoping his name wouldn’t be called out. That the time he had to indulge in one of the few liberties he still kept could be longer, even if just by one more breath, one more sigh, one more longing look outside the window.
He heard the clatter of wooden shoes, a bit too familiar to ignore it, and leaned over the window. Hands busy with the chords and voice still dragging the sadness of its song, blue eyes as bright as the sky above examined the rock path underneath and the figures walking through it.
The orange and cream kimono splattered by pink and purple botan flowers was the first thing to catch his eyes, for he had worn it plenty in the years that lead to this day. The soft brown hair, longer now than it was when Chiaki first arrived and full of colorful flowers, was the second thing he noticed.
Were it not for the almost clumsy and somewhat manly steps he made, still not completely used to his new profession, he would have looked like a perfectly beautiful girl. One of many pretty ones that walked up and down the few blocks of Yoshiwara to manage errands. The ephemeral question of whether he had looked just like that in his younger years coming and going, like ink dissolving in water.
Brown eyes seemed to catch to him, a bright wave making his eyes widen and an awkward smile appear in the suddenness. Soon returning to his neutral expression, he bowed once to return the greeting, still not stopping his fingers nor his voice.
Chiaki now rushed a bit more, clearing the few steps he had left to the door and disappeared through it. Unable to see him anymore, Izumi, so he contented himself with looking once more at the sky and continue his melody.
As much contempt as he held for the life forced on him, it was undeniable that he had mastered what had been imposed on him. Singing, dancing, reading and playing games were all things he enjoyed, even whilst the meaning behind them felt like dark stains. What did he cared about pleasing a governor with a love song or to seduce a bushi with loving words in a letter?
A couple of minutes might have passed as he wandered through the puzzling corners of his own thoughts, when rushed steps moved up the stairs. No customer or oiran would walk so hastily, making the guess on who they were rather easy.
He didn’t even bothered in turning around until his name was called, a smile naturally coming to him at the sight of the other waiting in expectation right at the door. With his head, did he gave the indication for Chiaki to walk inside if he so wanted, and to sit by his side.
Slowly did he brought the song to an early end, voice slowly dying out as Chiaki, worried by his health, closed the window behind him.
“So, is there anything you wish to tell me?” he asked, the shamisen finally left aside, cold fingers reaching up to fix the slightly messy brown hair of the younger boy “Coming to see me as soon as your errands are over…”
There was something, the other said, a furtive look at the closed door as he looked inside the sleeves of his winter kimono. Slowly, a piece of bright red came to sight - a red higanbana as piece of a hair ornament. As bright and warm as the one holding it.
It’s for you , he said. A present , he explained.
“Present? What for?” he questioned gently, unsure as to what this might mean.
Your birthday, isn’t it today?
Was it? He didn’t quite remembered himself, birthdays the last thing you wanted to know about in this secluded universe.
Reaching out to hold the elegant piece, Izumi stared at it gently for a few moments. If gratefulness had a shape, it might as well be this one, he decided with a smile.
“I shall treasure it for as long as I live, Chiaki-han” he replied, a deep bow that fell all the way to the floor before raising back up as to give weight to his words. He reached up with one hand to ruffle Chiaki’s hair when he tried to dismiss it as ‘not as important’.
As the first present he received in his life, he would hold it dear till the last moment.
When the cold waters would swallow him from the face of this cruel earth.