The First Taste of Blood
Higashi-Osaka, Honshu, Japan 1883.
Tears burned at her eyes yet she refused to let them fall. To allow them to show would be to capitulate to weakness and she was not weak. She was tired, she was sore, and she was bleeding, but she was not weak.
Teeth gritted, she shoved her hands into the bucket of snow; almost to her elbows she knelt beside the wooden bucket and let the melting snow soothe bruised and swollen flesh. Her gritted teeth began to chatter and Seiko had to force her stomach to contain what small bit of tea and rice she'd been able to consume earlier that night.
She had not known there would be more than one waiting there for her. Her mother had sent her off with the same directions as before. That she was supposed to be a quiet, calming force. A force that would allow the men she served to relax and be themselves. She was to serve them dinner, sing, recite her haiku if needed to help the men relax. If they touched her, she was supposed to be laughing and shy and to gently deter them. She was supposed to serve their warmed sake just so.. She was supposed to ensure that they got their fill...
Seiko had only been serving for her mother for the last six months and at the age of thirteen, she had already decided that she lived a cursed life.
She had not known that the sake had been poisoned.
-----
There was only supposed to be one in the room waiting for her. She brought her shamisen, her stringed instrument, to sing quiet and soothing songs as her client was supposed to drink and laze about in a drunken daze. She was supposed to be young and exotic, art made motion for quiet appreciation and relaxing entertainment.
Instead there were three in the room. One man lay sleeping, presumably already passed out. The man she came to serve nods to her in greeting. She bows deeply, forehead touching floor until she is addressed. He introduces his associate and she brings the tray with the warmed sake into the room, set with careful precision onto the table. She bows to the associate and offers him her own cup so that he too, could enjoy the sake. The associate waves casually his acceptance and Seiko begins to carefully pour the warm, steaming liquid into the small ceramic cups. As usual, her client tosses back the first cup and easily, Seiko fills his cup again and again. His associate, on the other hand, is slow to consume his sake. He wrinkles his nose at the flavour. "It tastes like blood."
Seiko responds without thinking, "It is said that when a man cannot enjoy his sake, that it means that he is a man who is unhappy with himself and the world."
Her words anger the man and he throws the remains of his sake into her face. "Stupid beast. Did I ask for your unimportant opinion?"
Stunned, Seiko immediately bows her head in subservience, "I do so humbly beg your forgiveness for speaking without cause, sir. I am not fit to speak without permission and I am beside myself at causing you a moment's displeasure." Her head remains bowed until his grunt of acceptance is heard.
She raises her head and begins to re-set the cup on the table when her client begins to seizure. Wide-eyed, she watches the man foam at the mouth, his eyes roll into the back of his head, his tongue swell and hang limply between his lips before he falls to the ground to shake and then to go still. After a moment's pause, she rushes to the man's side and tries to lay his head on her lap to offer some sort of assistance when a large, meaty fist strikes her at her temple. Dazed, she stares up at the enraged associate who is yelling incomprehensible things to her.
His own mouth foaming of rage, he falls on the girl and begins to shake her like a small doll. Her head hits the tatami again and again before he begins to slap at her face. Thanks to her small size and agile body, Seiko manages to severely injure the man's groin before she rolls onto her stomach and begins to crawl away. Her obi is roughly grabbed and she is pulled back toward the angry man, fingernails tearing beneath the rough texture of the tatami. Her hair is grabbed roughly, pinning her in place. After the red haze of pain fades, Seiko finally has the sense to understand the man's constantly asked question, "Why did you do this? Who do you work for?"
Frightened beyond speech she can only shake her head, despite the punishing grip. With her stillness, she is able to feel the man's body above her. Beside rage, it becomes obvious to her that the man pinning her down lusts for her as well. She speaks through swollen lips, "I don't know..I was just told to come here..I was just supposed to give him sake and pleasure him.. I am new to the house. I only do what I am told.."
The fingers in her hair tighten then loosen. "You only do what you are told, hmm?" The timbre of his voice deepens as obvious carnal thoughts take form and shape into his head. He leans down until his hot breath singes her ear, "Then I am telling you to fight me. If you do not, I will take that which Mamoru would have been so generously given."
At those words, she begins to fight in earnest. The large man laughs at her weak attempts to escape and recounts in crude terms the lowliness of her person. At her further rising fury, he smiles cruelly and continues to press at her weak mind and uncontrollable emotions. He speaks of the weakness of her form. The ugliness of her face. The stoutness of her body. The braying quality of her voice. Again and again he calls her weak and powerless against his strength. More beast than woman.
"After I have taken you, I will kill you. And then I will take you again. Your corpse will be so violated that no one will speak words for your passing. A murdering whore such as yourself deserves nothing more than to die and have no one miss her."
A cool voice interrupts, "You are a blind fool, Terimo. Let the girl loose."
Seiko is suddenly thrust aside, head slamming sharply with the wall. She whimpers and peers through her lashes to observe the once sleeping man wide-awake, and quite armed. With his katana, he forces the man against the wall. "It is you who are useless, Terimo. To take out your anger on a slip of a girl.." the man sneers in disgust, "You are beneath her to show so little control. Little girl, come here." The words are quiet, but forceful. Seiko, wide-eyed in shock, slowly begins to crawl over to the man's side.
"Show me your hands."
Seiko painfully sits herself up straight and shaking, presents her hands to him, palms up. He glances down at the blood and swelling and is obviously enraged but controls his anger. Eyes burning in fury toward the terrified man against the wall, he unsheathes his tanto and puts it in her hands. He looks at the man as he speaks, "I poisoned the sake. Mamoru was useless and our boss felt he lost more money in drink and gambling than he brought in from his work. You..he wished to keep. But I think your loss will do us more good now than later. Little girl, you have the blade in your hands. What do you wish to do with it?"
Seiko looks up at the man, shocked. His gaze is even, staring hatred at Mamoru. Her gaze slides to the frightened man against the wall. His eyes widen in fear when he sees her expression. He begins to weep silently, unwilling to plead for his life with one blade already so close to his neck.
Seiko's sore hands tighten upon the tanto. It's unfamiliar weight swiftly becoming welcomed. Seiko attempts to stand but her legs will not hold her. She crawls forward on two knees and one bleeding palm toward her victim. Her eyes do not blink as if afraid to miss a single nuance of the frightened man's expression.
She reaches his feet and without taking a moment's consideration, she wraps a hand around the man's ankle. His ankle jerks and he kicks her in the face. Seiko's head is rocked back for a moment, blood running from the corner of her mouth.
As if possessed, there is no expression or sound of pain, just promise as her eyes slowly find her victim again. Her head slowly follows her eyes in sighting her prey. The look in her eyes petrifies the man.
There is a look of such unholy glee on her features that his breath is trapped in his lungs. Before he can move or speak, she is upon him, stabbing everywhere. In her tantrum, the man watching observes her actions thoughtfully. He casually slices the tendons of the victim's legs so he cannot move to flee. He slashes at the man's palms so that he cannot properly grasp a hold onto anything. Slowly the man's movements slow and he slides to the tatami, face frozen forever in fear.
Seiko is soaked in blood and other unclean fluids. She lifts the tanto and wipes it with utmost care on a bit of fabric at her neck. When that does not completely clean the blade, she draws a trembling breath and brings it to her lips. She licks the remains until the dull steel shines and then turns to the man. She carefully lays the short sword on the clean tatami before her and bows forward in deep respect, her forehead touching the floor. She thanks him humbly and with great reverence. He accepts her thanks and his tanto, sheathing it.
He stands and then offers his hand. She accepts his assistance and finds that she can stand, though not fully erect. He leads her to the sliding door and opens it for her. She takes the time to slip her bloodied tabi into the geta sandals and steps aside, waiting for him. He too slips on his sandals and he walks with her into the quiet, snow filled night. At a crossroad, he inquires as to her health and safety, she reassures him without inflection that she will be well. Again she thanks him for his assistance and then turns and walks away.
When she enters her mother is no where to be found. She fetches the wooden bucket and steps outside to fill it with snow....
----
The man who helped Seiko was a low-ranking member of the local yakuza. Akimichi was well-known for his swift justice and fairness. He was also known for giving anyone a chance to prove themselves in an offer to gain entry into his service...
Tears burned at her eyes yet she refused to let them fall. To allow them to show would be to capitulate to weakness and she was not weak. She was tired, she was sore, and she was bleeding, but she was not weak.
Teeth gritted, she shoved her hands into the bucket of snow; almost to her elbows she knelt beside the wooden bucket and let the melting snow soothe bruised and swollen flesh. Her gritted teeth began to chatter and Seiko had to force her stomach to contain what small bit of tea and rice she'd been able to consume earlier that night.
She had not known there would be more than one waiting there for her. Her mother had sent her off with the same directions as before. That she was supposed to be a quiet, calming force. A force that would allow the men she served to relax and be themselves. She was to serve them dinner, sing, recite her haiku if needed to help the men relax. If they touched her, she was supposed to be laughing and shy and to gently deter them. She was supposed to serve their warmed sake just so.. She was supposed to ensure that they got their fill...
Seiko had only been serving for her mother for the last six months and at the age of thirteen, she had already decided that she lived a cursed life.
She had not known that the sake had been poisoned.
-----
There was only supposed to be one in the room waiting for her. She brought her shamisen, her stringed instrument, to sing quiet and soothing songs as her client was supposed to drink and laze about in a drunken daze. She was supposed to be young and exotic, art made motion for quiet appreciation and relaxing entertainment.
Instead there were three in the room. One man lay sleeping, presumably already passed out. The man she came to serve nods to her in greeting. She bows deeply, forehead touching floor until she is addressed. He introduces his associate and she brings the tray with the warmed sake into the room, set with careful precision onto the table. She bows to the associate and offers him her own cup so that he too, could enjoy the sake. The associate waves casually his acceptance and Seiko begins to carefully pour the warm, steaming liquid into the small ceramic cups. As usual, her client tosses back the first cup and easily, Seiko fills his cup again and again. His associate, on the other hand, is slow to consume his sake. He wrinkles his nose at the flavour. "It tastes like blood."
Seiko responds without thinking, "It is said that when a man cannot enjoy his sake, that it means that he is a man who is unhappy with himself and the world."
Her words anger the man and he throws the remains of his sake into her face. "Stupid beast. Did I ask for your unimportant opinion?"
Stunned, Seiko immediately bows her head in subservience, "I do so humbly beg your forgiveness for speaking without cause, sir. I am not fit to speak without permission and I am beside myself at causing you a moment's displeasure." Her head remains bowed until his grunt of acceptance is heard.
She raises her head and begins to re-set the cup on the table when her client begins to seizure. Wide-eyed, she watches the man foam at the mouth, his eyes roll into the back of his head, his tongue swell and hang limply between his lips before he falls to the ground to shake and then to go still. After a moment's pause, she rushes to the man's side and tries to lay his head on her lap to offer some sort of assistance when a large, meaty fist strikes her at her temple. Dazed, she stares up at the enraged associate who is yelling incomprehensible things to her.
His own mouth foaming of rage, he falls on the girl and begins to shake her like a small doll. Her head hits the tatami again and again before he begins to slap at her face. Thanks to her small size and agile body, Seiko manages to severely injure the man's groin before she rolls onto her stomach and begins to crawl away. Her obi is roughly grabbed and she is pulled back toward the angry man, fingernails tearing beneath the rough texture of the tatami. Her hair is grabbed roughly, pinning her in place. After the red haze of pain fades, Seiko finally has the sense to understand the man's constantly asked question, "Why did you do this? Who do you work for?"
Frightened beyond speech she can only shake her head, despite the punishing grip. With her stillness, she is able to feel the man's body above her. Beside rage, it becomes obvious to her that the man pinning her down lusts for her as well. She speaks through swollen lips, "I don't know..I was just told to come here..I was just supposed to give him sake and pleasure him.. I am new to the house. I only do what I am told.."
The fingers in her hair tighten then loosen. "You only do what you are told, hmm?" The timbre of his voice deepens as obvious carnal thoughts take form and shape into his head. He leans down until his hot breath singes her ear, "Then I am telling you to fight me. If you do not, I will take that which Mamoru would have been so generously given."
At those words, she begins to fight in earnest. The large man laughs at her weak attempts to escape and recounts in crude terms the lowliness of her person. At her further rising fury, he smiles cruelly and continues to press at her weak mind and uncontrollable emotions. He speaks of the weakness of her form. The ugliness of her face. The stoutness of her body. The braying quality of her voice. Again and again he calls her weak and powerless against his strength. More beast than woman.
"After I have taken you, I will kill you. And then I will take you again. Your corpse will be so violated that no one will speak words for your passing. A murdering whore such as yourself deserves nothing more than to die and have no one miss her."
A cool voice interrupts, "You are a blind fool, Terimo. Let the girl loose."
Seiko is suddenly thrust aside, head slamming sharply with the wall. She whimpers and peers through her lashes to observe the once sleeping man wide-awake, and quite armed. With his katana, he forces the man against the wall. "It is you who are useless, Terimo. To take out your anger on a slip of a girl.." the man sneers in disgust, "You are beneath her to show so little control. Little girl, come here." The words are quiet, but forceful. Seiko, wide-eyed in shock, slowly begins to crawl over to the man's side.
"Show me your hands."
Seiko painfully sits herself up straight and shaking, presents her hands to him, palms up. He glances down at the blood and swelling and is obviously enraged but controls his anger. Eyes burning in fury toward the terrified man against the wall, he unsheathes his tanto and puts it in her hands. He looks at the man as he speaks, "I poisoned the sake. Mamoru was useless and our boss felt he lost more money in drink and gambling than he brought in from his work. You..he wished to keep. But I think your loss will do us more good now than later. Little girl, you have the blade in your hands. What do you wish to do with it?"
Seiko looks up at the man, shocked. His gaze is even, staring hatred at Mamoru. Her gaze slides to the frightened man against the wall. His eyes widen in fear when he sees her expression. He begins to weep silently, unwilling to plead for his life with one blade already so close to his neck.
Seiko's sore hands tighten upon the tanto. It's unfamiliar weight swiftly becoming welcomed. Seiko attempts to stand but her legs will not hold her. She crawls forward on two knees and one bleeding palm toward her victim. Her eyes do not blink as if afraid to miss a single nuance of the frightened man's expression.
She reaches his feet and without taking a moment's consideration, she wraps a hand around the man's ankle. His ankle jerks and he kicks her in the face. Seiko's head is rocked back for a moment, blood running from the corner of her mouth.
As if possessed, there is no expression or sound of pain, just promise as her eyes slowly find her victim again. Her head slowly follows her eyes in sighting her prey. The look in her eyes petrifies the man.
There is a look of such unholy glee on her features that his breath is trapped in his lungs. Before he can move or speak, she is upon him, stabbing everywhere. In her tantrum, the man watching observes her actions thoughtfully. He casually slices the tendons of the victim's legs so he cannot move to flee. He slashes at the man's palms so that he cannot properly grasp a hold onto anything. Slowly the man's movements slow and he slides to the tatami, face frozen forever in fear.
Seiko is soaked in blood and other unclean fluids. She lifts the tanto and wipes it with utmost care on a bit of fabric at her neck. When that does not completely clean the blade, she draws a trembling breath and brings it to her lips. She licks the remains until the dull steel shines and then turns to the man. She carefully lays the short sword on the clean tatami before her and bows forward in deep respect, her forehead touching the floor. She thanks him humbly and with great reverence. He accepts her thanks and his tanto, sheathing it.
He stands and then offers his hand. She accepts his assistance and finds that she can stand, though not fully erect. He leads her to the sliding door and opens it for her. She takes the time to slip her bloodied tabi into the geta sandals and steps aside, waiting for him. He too slips on his sandals and he walks with her into the quiet, snow filled night. At a crossroad, he inquires as to her health and safety, she reassures him without inflection that she will be well. Again she thanks him for his assistance and then turns and walks away.
When she enters her mother is no where to be found. She fetches the wooden bucket and steps outside to fill it with snow....
----
The man who helped Seiko was a low-ranking member of the local yakuza. Akimichi was well-known for his swift justice and fairness. He was also known for giving anyone a chance to prove themselves in an offer to gain entry into his service...