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Ichigo had never cared much for history, but he had to admit it was cool to see it unfold before his eyes. Touring around Kyoto’s shrines had been interesting despite the hectic class trip schedule, but at this attraction they actually had some leisure time to stroll around and enjoy themselves. The place was a model village of sorts, a reconstruction of an 18th century street and the buildings along it. For an extra fee, one could participate in a raffle and be allotted a character to dress up as. Keigo of course had eaten the whole offer up and his enthusiasm had spread onto Mizuiro and Chad. Ichigo hadn’t wanted to be a killjoy – which is why he was now standing to the side and leaning against the plain unpainted wall of the old building, trying not to feel too uncomfortable in his kimono and the hakama that draped weirdly around his feet. He had forgone the wig though; topknots may have been the height of the fashion back in the day but they weren’t his style.
He was waiting for Chad, the only one of his friends who hadn’t come out yet. The staff probably had trouble finding clothes that would fit him. Mizuiro and Keigo had run off as soon as they had learned there was another class visiting this model village at the same time – one from a famous all-girls school.
Personally, Ichigo didn’t see what the big deal was. He hadn’t really met many rich girls but he couldn’t quite shake off the image of them being self-important snobs. Though speaking of the devil…
A gaggle of female voices alerted him that a group of girls had appeared somewhere nearby, probably right around the corner.
“This sucks. I paid good money only to get stuck as a plain old townswoman,” a girl grumbled in distaste.
“The kimono is kinda boring but you carry it so well, Mami-chan!”
“Thanks, Tomoko. Still, I wonder if the whole raffle was fixed.”
“What do you mean?” a third voice asked.
“Out of all people to dress as a maiko, they chose Kuchiki!”
“Yeah, so unfair,” Tomoko complained.
“Has Kuchiki come out yet?”
“No,” Mami replied. “But such fancy clothes won’t suit her anyway. Geishas, even apprentice ones, are supposed to be beautiful. She’s too boyish to pass off as one.”
“I really don’t understand how she chooses to sweat in that horrid kendo armour…”
“Yeah, she should join a better club, like the tea ceremony or flower arrangement.”
“And if she has to do sports, she should go for archery. At least that looks elegant,” Tomoko said.
A short silence followed, but then the first girl, Mami, cried out: “Hey, look! That guy’s dressed as a court noble!”
“Cool!
“He looks hot. I wonder what school he’s from.”
“Let’s go and find out,” Mami suggested, and the girls giggled.
Ichigo saw them hurry past him, grateful that none of them had spotted him. He scowled and rested his hand on the hilt of his prop katana. The conversation he’d just overheard had set his teeth on edge and had done little to improve his opinion of these stuck-up little princesses and their fancy all-girls school. Why the hell were they so bothered about the chosen hobby of a classmate they clearly weren’t even friends with? So stupid.
Still frowning, Ichigo slunk out of his hiding place and headed over to the entrance so he’d have an easier time to meet Chad once he’d finished dressing up. He was almost at the gates when they opened to admit a new visitor. Ichigo stopped midstride, taking in the elaborately styled hair – probably a wig – decorated with kanzashi, and the deep red embroidered kimono with its long fluttering sleeves. A matching red umbrella was casually perched on the girl’s shoulder and Ichigo’s idle gaze followed the wide tails of the obi trailing down her back. Her eyes, made paler by the white face paint, briefly met his.
Ichigo blinked, realising that he’d been staring and how dry his mouth had suddenly grown.
This was the girl unsuited for the role of an apprentice geisha? Ichigo snorted. Really, those three petty snobs from earlier needed to get glasses. There was nothing boyish about this girl – and it wasn’t the make-up and the pretty clothes that made her appear elegant and feminine: it was that perfect posture, the proud tilt of chin, the way those captivating violet eyes glimmered.
He wondered how heavy the whole get up was, with all those layers of embroidered silk and the sheer length of the sleeves and the obi – but then, perhaps that wasn’t a problem to someone used to the kendo armour’s weight.
The maiko took a step forward and immediately tripped.
Ichigo was moving before any conscious thought could register in his brain and caught her wrists, holding her upright.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice deeper than he had expected.
“It’s fine,” Ichigo said dismissively. He bent to pick up the umbrella she had dropped and noticed the ridiculously tall wooden clogs that went with the maiko’s outfit. “You sure you can walk in those?”
“I guess we’ll have to see,” she replied with a wry twist of her lips, accepting the offered umbrella with a courteous nod.
“I could stick around until you get the hang of it,” Ichigo offered after a moment of hesitation.
“Thank you, but I’ll manage. I wouldn’t want to keep you.”
Ichigo shrugged. “I’m waiting for my friend anyway, so I have time to kill.”
She was silent for a while, appearing thoughtful – though it was hard to read her face under such a thick layer of make-up.
At last, she gave him a small smile.
“Well,” she said, laying her small hand on Ichigo’s arm, “if you insist.”