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“Do you have a lover perhaps?”
Sakashita sputters, his head whipping sharply toward the Medicine Seller who, to his annoyance, merely blinks at him, smile ever-present as always. He almost wishes that he could draw his sword, even if it were to simply scare him. Though, if he were to consider the medicine seller’s demeanor, would that even work?
“Are you perhaps…” And that damnable pause! Who speaks like this? Surely, there must be a limit to a merchant’s theatrics! “…hungover? You seem to have difficulty hearing today. Or”—he tilts his head, strangely colored hair fluttering with the motion—“was it a needy lover?”
Through gritted teeth—professional; he must be professional!—Sakashita replies, “I do not have a lover.”
As if awaiting that response, the medicine seller claps his hands together, voice just the slightest bit too cheery. Irritating. It reminds him of an off-tune Kabuki actor.
“And that can change!” Sakashita’s eyes drift to the medicine seller’s fingers, attention drawn to the click of sliding wood drawers. Having been set down earlier, just by his gate, the tansu (and its owner) easily attracts the attention of every passerby. “With one simple product—the love potion. This one is a special item directly imported from England. With one sip, any woman will fall in love with you.”
“Any woman?”
“Move along!” He only needs one pervert present today. Ideally, zero. Making a shooing motion—thankfully, this old man is easy to convince, preferring instead to catch up with his scandalized daughter—Sakashita returns to glaring. “And you…”
“Yes? Would you like to make a purchase? For such a handsome guard, I can offer a small discount. Just a very small one of course.” His smile widens. “I must make a profit after all. This is a business.”
Sakashita chooses to ignore that—has this man made a single sale since setting up shop next to the Ōoku?—preferring instead to glance at the medicine seller’s fingernails, his own frown steadily deepening. Oh, he definitely would never let this man cross the entranceway. On his pride as a guard and for the safety of the women of the Ōoku, he vows this.
Some of his friends among the guard may be oblivious to the meaning of the cut of the medicine seller’s nails, but he isn’t; the women of the Ōoku like to confide in him from time to time. Trimming just the middle and index? Why not announce to the world that you are fucking a woman? Multiple women? Dubious as the man is—he hasn’t even given his name yet!—it is very likely that this man would grope or even r—
“Have you’ve made your decision? What lucky lady do you have your eyes o—“
“No one!”
His shout attracts attention, but Sakashita pays them no mind. Already, he could feel a vein bulge. He would need to visit a reputable apothecary later. Not this…madman. This abominable nuisance!
Without pause, the medicine seller continues, setting the quack concoction atop his tansu. Sakashita hopes that a strong wind knocks it over.
“Then a man maybe?” A soft laugh escapes that bastard’s lips, eyes narrowing as he tilts his head slightly, more amused than annoyed at his failure to procure a sale. “Or what about chrysanthemums? Those are rather popular, especially at Yoshiwara.”
“C-chrysanthemums?”
Unless one were in the midst of physically expelling a troublemaker, it is generally better to ignore these types of people—his senior had taught him that on his first day—but chrysanthemums? This medicine seller may dress well, a consequence of his connections most likely, but chrysanthemums in this season? And where would he keep them? Fragile as the flowers are, a trip in his tansu would have surely crushed them beyond repair or use. And Yoshiwara? A man of his schedule would never visit such a place, but from the accounts of his fellow guards, the shops there do not sell flowers. Not out-of-season ones anyhow.
Like any other person would be, Sakashita is curious.
“Yes.” The medicine seller nods, smiling still. “Chrysanthemums. I find it rather fun to pick them year-round. There are a variety of colors, all naturally beautiful. Though”—the medicine seller leers at him, and Sakashita feels a chill—“I seem to be in the mood for pink lately.”
“S-stay back!”
He may not know exactly what “chrysanthemums” entail, but he knows what a lecher looks like!
The medicine seller remains standing next to his tansu, which, for whatever reason, a faint banging could be heard from. Extremely questionable (a live animal?), but not something that Sakashita wishes to inquire upon after chrysanthemums. As his senior had said, sometimes the best policy is to ignore, contradictory as it is to his post’s obligations. It saves on trouble for both him and the Ōoku.
“How far? It is not wrong to merely stay by the gate.” Was this bastard laughing at him? His expression remains the same, smile accentuated by the blue decorating his upper lip. “For a merchant, the traffic here is a wonderful opportunity to make a sale.”
“Ju-just stay back!”
And he would spend it tormenting an innocent guard? What sort of sales tactic is this? If anything, Sakashita wants to buy less from him.
Really, what man would act like this? While having a lover, nonetheless! What woman would want him!
Heaving an exaggerated sigh, the medicine seller pulls on one of the drawers of his tansu, setting the love potion back inside before shutting it close with a clink.
“Ah…very well. If you so desire.” He takes one step back, taking his tansu with him as well—just one spot over. “Is this better? We are now one full step away from each another.”
This fucking bastard!
Dearly, Sakashita wishes that obnoxiousness were a crime. But unfortunately, it isn’t, not for a guard like him anyhow. Even in his anger, Sakashita understands how irrational it is to let a mere peddler annoy him like this.
Continuing, the medicine seller hoists himself to sit upon his tansu, heedless of the increasingly erratic noise emanating from the box. Around them, the people had deigned to give them a wide berth. Not that he blames them. If he were in the same situation, he would do the same.
“But still…I cannot say that pink is my favorite.” He shakes his head. “Really, my favorite is purple.” He snorts then, levity readily apparent. “If I said anything else, the bloom would wilt, and that would be no good. One should hold a certain regard for these matters.” He pauses for a moment, considering. “Though, there is a charm in that too I think—in a flower half-wilted, springing once more to life at the barest affection of the sun.”
What is this? A lesson in failed poetry? He doesn’t remember committing so heinous a crime as to deserve such a torture. Sakashita could definitely understand why this man was a merchant and not a scholar.
“Is that why he enjoys teasing me so?” the medicine seller muses. “It is rather fun.”
He?
To be fair, the medicine seller is rather flamboyant, but still…Sakashita glances elsewhere briefly.
After a few moments, Sakashita interrupts the medicine seller.
“Just…just stay over there and sell to someone else. I’m not interested.”
“Are you sure? My offer for a discount is still avail—“
“Yes!”
Surely, the medicine seller must have better things to do than linger here every day? He hopes so.
What a pathetic life it must be otherwise! It almost makes him pity the lover. What man—he ignores the sex for a moment—would let their lover act like this?
“Hmm. Very well.” The medicine seller stares at him, and Sakashita meets his gaze, uncomfortable. “Our time together does seem to be reaching an end. I rather enjoyed it. Truly. But…” His eyes narrow again, odd gold-hued eyes flickering elsewhere. “I can feel its presence. It’s coming.”
“It?” Maybe the medicine seller should focus more on acquiring a visit to a physician and not on fraudulent scams. “What is ‘it’?”
The medicine seller ignores his question, preferring instead to fixate his attention on the Ōoku itself.
To his sudden unease, Sakashita realizes that the noise has stopped, tansu silent once more as it should be.