Fifty Words for Rain(37)

“You can play the violin for our guests,” Kiyomi explained with a wry smile. “I have to say, there’s nobody else here who can play that kind of music. They lack your education.”

Nori’s sullen face was answer enough. Kiyomi sighed and flipped her long hair over one shoulder.

“You don’t have a choice.”

This task, at least, was rare. In the six weeks that she had been here, she had only been asked to play a handful of times. Every other Saturday night, twenty-odd men filed into the large hall that Kiyomi called the hana no heya: the room of flowers. It had tatami floors, silk cushions, and low tables with places set for tea, a set of sliding doors left open to reveal a blossoming water garden. The fountains made a musical sound as they splashed onto smooth rocks. There were freshly picked flowers on all of the tables, arranged into elaborate patterns to mimic origami. Nori tried to focus on all of this beauty. She tried not to look at the men.

In her mind, they had all been oni, ogres with twisted faces and curved talons. They had been horrible-looking, fat, deformed, covered in sores and fur, closer to beasts than men.

But they weren’t. All of them were well-dressed, whether in loose summer yukatas or tailored suits, and some of them were even . . . handsome. The other girls, who had been avoiding Nori since the day she’d arrived, were hardly shy with them either. There was no screaming or crying. When Kiyomi clapped her hands, all of them filed in like a pack of peacocks desperate to preen. They all looked to be older than she. They had rouged faces and red lips, dressed up like a ghastly parody of true geisha. Though they played games and amused the men with their attempts to sing, Nori had learned what they did when they slipped out of the room holding a man by the hand.

A few of them exchanged coy smiles with some of the guests and went straight to their tables. Kiyomi explained to her at the start of the first evening that the best girls all had regulars. “Megumi got a gold bracelet from hers,” she’d whispered into Nori’s ear. “And he has promised her another.” Nori’s blank face had been met with a sour smile. “Of course, this means nothing to you, little princess. But most of us here never expected to know what gold feels like.”

Nori stood in the corner, dressed in one of her beautiful new kimonos with her hair all done up and wearing more makeup than she’d ever worn in her life. She kept fidgeting, resisting the urge to wipe it off. She watched as Kiyomi flitted about the room, smiling brightly enough to dull the sun, laughing and chatting with the men like they were all old friends. Sometimes a group of girls would get up and dance to a record or Kiyomi would nod to Nori to play a tune.

The girls danced well. In their brightly colored kimonos they twirled about the room, filling it with giddy laughter. One of the younger girls could stand on one leg and extend the other towards the ceiling with a pretty pointed foot. When the dancing ended, the girls would gamble with the men, throwing dice and laughing. Even from her isolated place in the corner of the room, Nori noticed that the girls were always certain to let the men win.

The food was served mid-evening—heaping platters full of fresh-caught fish, sliced raw or served roasted in herbs and spices. There were piping hot soups of all kinds: beef, chicken, shrimp, and strange proteins that Nori had never eaten. And there was sake, lots and lots of sake, always poured by a girl into her gentleman’s cup.

The room got louder then. Nori saw an older man with black hair and a gray beard slide his hand down the front of one girl’s linen underclothes. She looked away. Akira would be so ashamed to see her in a place like this.

The room swirled, and she had to put a hand against the wall. Thinking of Akira was treacherous. It filled her with such a sense of hateful weakness that she could barely stand.

The evening wore on, pulling at her and making her limbs feel weighed down with sand. She forced herself to stand up straight, remembering her brutal lessons in maintaining a rigid posture at all times. She played until her arm grew sore and her neck grew stiff. Unless it was to look at her fingers, she tried not to open her eyes.

Little by little, the chatter grew quieter as more and more girls left the great hall, the men either leading or trailing behind them like eager bloodhounds. When the moon was at its highest point, everyone had gone. Kiyomi walked over to Nori and told her that she could leave.

“You did well tonight. You always play better than expected.”

“Arigatou.”

Kiyomi nodded her approval. “You’re very talented, you know. It’s not really necessary, but it can’t hurt. The right kind of man will appreciate it.”

Nori resisted the urge to flinch. Anger boiled up in her belly, but she kept her voice sweet. “I’m glad you find it pleasing.”

“I do. You’re clever too. So I expect you to learn. You’ll come to my room twice a week in the mornings, and I’ll teach you what you need to know.”

Nori wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to know anything you have to teach.”

Kiyomi’s dark eyes went cold, and she folded her arms over her half-exposed breasts.

“You’re going to have to lose that arrogance,” she said flatly. “It won’t serve you here.”

“I shouldn’t be here,” Nori whispered hotly, cheating her eyes sideways to avoid tearing up. “It’s not right.”

Kiyomi did not even dignify this with a response. She shrugged a slim shoulder at Nori’s pointless lament. “This is the only place for you now. You can accept it with grace, or you can fight against it and destroy yourself in the process. In any case, I expect you to do as I say.”