Artists Of The Floating World

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“Why does my flower look so sad?”

Ryou blinked, holding back tears, and looked up at the young man who was his most frequent client. “M-Malik-sama.”

The young noble smiled, flashing strong, white teeth. Malik was the emperor’s nephew. And a rebellious swordsman. His older brother, Merik, was insane, so all family duty and honor was placed on Malik. Bakura, too, was kin to the royal family; the son of a dishonored and banished second wife.

“Please, don’t be so formal with me. Have you missed me like I’ve missed you?” The blonde took a step closer and Ryou forced a smile.

“Hai, Malik-sama, how did you get back here?”

“The old bat left me in. Anything for a favorite customer, ne?” Malik laughed, his tan arms slipping out of his burgundy sleeves to wrap around Ryou’s slender waist.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here the past two weeks. I had my sister’s marriage to arrange, Merik’s dishonored the family yet again- I had that mess to straighten out. And my wife, that shrew, claims to be pregnant.” Malik gave an angry, bitter, and sharp laugh. “I haven’t touched that vile bitch. She turns my stomach.”

Ryou’s breath was crushed from him as Malik’s arms tightened about him. He lay his soft, white hands on Malik’s shoulders, feeling the burgundy silk slip easily under his palms. He cared for the swordsman, he really did. Malik was handsome, honorable, and loved him. But Ryou didn’t return his love.

Malik lowered his head, nuzzling Ryou’s hair and whispering in his ear. “But with you, I can forget all that. You’re so soft, so sweet. I’m selfish- I want you all to myself. I hate sharing you. I’d treat you better than an empress. I’d buy you an entire okiya’s worth of kimonos. The finest fruits and freshest fish would be yours. You’d rule my house, not just my heart.”

Ryou’s brown eyes were wide in shock. These were not words you spoke to a geisha. If you loved her, you became her danna, but even then she was never fully yours. Ryou pushed lightly on the noble’s chest. “Malik-sama…”

Malik only held him tighter. “I know, you can never be my wife.” He laughed harshly. “Life’s cruel, isn’t it? You should’ve been mine, and that bitch…she should be some flea infested whore in a slum…but if you can’t be my wife, then let me be your danna.”

Ryou gasped. “Malik-sama!” These were the words every geisha longed to hear. To happen at such a young age, barely more than a maiko, was astonishing. “I-I don’t know what to say-“ He wanted to accept; his mind urged him to. But his heart held him back. Why couldn’t it be Bakura saying these things to him?

Lavender eyes poured deeply into his. “Say yes. Say you’ll give me this one small bit of happiness.”

“Malik-sama, I…I…” Lilac eyes burned bright with desire and Ryou’s heart clenched. With a danna, a geisha was cared for, and financially secure. Even if Malik turned his eyes and heart to another, Ryou would have enough, from the gifts Malik would give him to support himself for life.

Malik had always been kind to him. Even now- he was giving Ryou a choice. Very easily, Malik could go to okaasan and tell her he was becoming Ryou’s danna, with or without Ryou’s consent. Geisha didn’t choose their danna. Yet, Malik was letting him.

But to accept would kill any slim chance that Bakura would show up to spirit him away. Even if his thief king would show up looking for him at the okiya, Ryou would already be bound to Malik.

Malik gripped Ryou’s thin arms and gave him a little shake. “Our souls are connected. Can’t you feel it?”

Ryou lowered his thick, black lashes. If he wasn’t a geisha, then he’d be on the dirty streets, scrounging daily for enough money for a dinky bowel of burnt rice. Instead, he had full meals with sushi, sake, and warm tea. He wore expensive, elegant kimonos. He wasn’t a servant, he was served. He had never been born to a life of luxury and high class. He lived a privileged life, and this was the price. What more could a geisha hope?

He raised his lashes, brown eyes clear as they locked onto lilac ones. “Malik-sama, you honor this humble geisha.” Ryou broke the gaze, bowing daintily.

Malik’s beautiful young face broke into a broad grin. “I knew you’d say yes. I know you return my love.” Ryou lowered his eyes and was silent. Malik crushed Ryou to him, lowered his head, and plundered the geisha’s lips with his own. Ryou closed his eyes and sank against the taller boy.

Malik kissed him fervently until they ran out of air. The noble tilted his head back, breathing heavily, while Ryou collapsed against his heaving chest. “I’m the happiest man in Edo. I’m going to tell the old woman I’m your danna. And to cancel any of your engagements three days from now. There will be a party- a huge feast- at the palace. There, in front of all Edo, I shall claim you as mine.” Malik flashed his brilliant, white smile before disappearing, leaving a stunned geisha behind.

Slowly, in a daze, Ryou sank to his knees. He clung to the wooden support beam in the corner, leaning into it, his soft cheek on the smooth paint, for support. What had he done? His heart hurt- he’d just betrayed it. He gave it away to another man, when it yearned for Bakura. But he was an outlaw, and Ryou one of high society’s most beautiful flowers. Their love was only a dream. Or a cruel joke.

Ryou was one of the luckiest geisha in Edo- he was the most powerful, therefore the most desired. His danna was imminently wealthy, gorgeous, and related to the emperor. More importantly, Malik was a good person who treated Ryou well. How many people could say they were treated like that?

Ryou was fond of him. He wasn’t in love with him. He wouldn’t be unhappy with Malik. He wouldn’t be happy, either. Still, to save himself for Bakura was a childish fantasy. It was fighting fate, and destiny. Ryou was geisha. Besides, Bakura hadn’t been in Edo for months- he’d probably forgotten all about Ryou.

Ryou nodded his head. Malik was a good man, and Ryou would try to learn to love him.

Tbc…

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