White Butterfly : Chapter 5
Crawford awoke to Baba bringing him in breakfast. Sometime in the night someone had draped blankets over where he knelt hunched over the figure asleep in his lap. Curled up next to Ran on the heavy linen of his culottes was the puppy who was suckling on one of his fingers. She smiled indulgently at them and did her best to be silent so as not to wake Ran, and then slipped away back out of the room. Crawford’s back was stiff and sore from being in the same position all night but Ran looked peaceful, for the first time in their acquaintance, and very young, and the puppy was happily sucking. Crawford decided he didn’t care. It would be all over the house in the morning that he had spent the night with his concubine, he smiled, at least it would stop some of the rumours.
He awoke again to find that Ran was awake and doing his best to silently serve breakfast. When he saw Crawford stirring he stopped and dropped the cup of tea he was whisking, covering himself in the hot liquid with a hiss.
Crawford smiled and with a cloth started to wipe away the hot fabric from the ruined hakama.
“I’m sorry,” Ran stammered, “I,”
Crawford ignored the boy’s apologies and continued to wipe at the spreading stain.
“I’m sorry,” Ran continued, “I’m just.”
“Embarrassed.” Crawford offered the word and Ran nodded.
“I’ve never slept with a man before.”
Crawford burst out laughing. He dropped the cloth and cupped Ran’s face. “You dear sweet boy,” he said fondly. “I was thinking.” He continued, “it disturbs me that you call me master, you are.” He stopped, “you were the son of a lord greater than I, you would have been greater than I.” Ran, unintentionally perhaps, leant into the gesture of kindness. With a movement of his wrist Crawford tilted the lovely face towards him, though Ran had learned, quickly, to hide his eyes behind his fringe.
Ran’s lips were like slices of fresh peach, moist and sweet and Crawford could not stop himself. “I’m going to kiss you.”
Ran blinked slowly, trying to recognise the unknown word, “Kissu?” He asked sweetly.
In that moment Crawford wanted to gobble the boy up, bones and all, and knew he’d be as sweet as spun sugar. He even licked his lips, and then white teeth bit into the lower lip.
“Let me show you.” Crawford said softly and leant into that mouth, pressing his own against it.
Ran jumped back like he was struck, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “No,” he said firmly. “No,” he repeated, “that’s wrong.” He stammered, “it’s not kissu,” he mangled the unfamiliar word, “that’s seppun, that is the worst of all evils.” He was licking his lips over and over again as if trying to wash away the sensation.
Crawford laughed again, actually leaning over in his hilarity.
Ran did not seem amused, “it is how the Oni swallow your soul.”
“I am onmyoji.” Crawford said before laughing again. He should have Seen this encounter but was rather glad that he hadn’t, because it was generally quite funny.
“It’s not funny,” Ran said, wiping his mouth, “you, you,” he stopped looking for the word, “you ecchi.” He looked even more offended if that was possible.
Crawford was rocking back and forth trying to hide his laughter. “It’s not,” he protested, “it’s just kissing,” he laughed, “anyone would think I’d suggested using a lobster.” For some reason this made him laugh even harder.
“I don’t care to be laughed at,” he stopped, “My lord.” He stood up, the stain on his hakama looking less like tea and more like urine, his puppy yipping and jumping in excited circles about his feet.
It took Crawford several minutes to calm down after Ran left him. He couldn’t even look at his breakfast without breaking into fits of laughter again. It was good to laugh; it had been a long time since he had. He decided he liked Ran, for more than the obvious attraction, the boy’s presence calmed him, and even his affront at being laughed at had been charming. He had also heeded Crawford’s order and called him my lord, rather than master. Crawford didn’t want to be the boy’s master, but for now he was happy being his lord.
Schuldig knocked and entered, more civility than he usually showed, at his feet he had a boy of about five or six, “hey,” he said pushing the rather dirty child inside. He was wearing rags and it was clear that he hadn’t been washed in some time.
“Schuldig,” Crawford said, still amused by his encounter with Ran, “a new pet?” He asked though he knew perfectly well what the child was. Crawford had asked him to bring him a child of about that age and as usual he had delivered.
“This is,” Schuldig stopped for a moment, “is Sena.” He had obviously just chosen the name out of the air. “You wanted a whipping boy for the ghost of the Fujimiya house, here you go.” He pushed the child forward. “You can keep him.”
“Schuldig,” Crawford said appraising the child, “did you leave him in the cart last night?”
Schuldig shrugged, “I kinda hoped it would rain.” He answered. “Kid could do with a bath.”
Crawford rolled his eyes. “And it didn’t occur to you to bring him in and give him to Baba would have had him bathed and tucked up for the night.”
“For the price of him,” Schuldig mused, “he could wait in the rain a bit, I swear there wasn’t a single lad of reasonable age in all of Kyoto.”
“Or at least the parts you were in.” Crawford added, almost under his breath.
“Look, normally the yujo are more than happy to offload male offspring.” Schuldig said, “it’s not my fault the Heika likes a little more boy meat than his predecessors.”
“Where did you get him and how much did he cost?” He distinctly avoided looking at the child, who was only staring at the tray of food that Baba had brought him earlier.
“Gion.” Schuldig said, a little too quickly for Crawford’s liking. “And he cost me three bags of rice.” He was obviously annoyed at that.
“A whole night with a medium priced prostitute.” Crawford drawled. “Go get Baba, perhaps the boy will be useful under the layers of dirt, and,” he tilted his head at the child, “lice.”
Sena, as Schuldig had called him, was a skinny child that was more mud than human, his clothes were worn and well mended and it was impossible to tell the colour of his hair for the mats and knots, his eyes however were a large and lucid blue. On the whole he reminded Crawford of how Naoe had been when he had found him, malnourished and beaten. “Can you talk?” He asked the boy, the boy remained resolute and firm, his fists gathered at his sides. “Why do I think I’m the first one to speak to you since you came here.” Crawford said to himself even though he was facing the boy. He knelt down in front of him. “Are you hungry?” He asked. The boy remained stoically silent. At this distance Crawford could see the lice crawling through the mass of hair on his head. He had fleas as well.
Crawford lifted the bowl of rice and handed it to the child, the child shied away.
Frowning and cursing Schuldig for an idiot, in three languages, under his breath. Crawford took a pair of the highly polished chopsticks and stuck them in the ball of sticky rice and then pushed it over to the child.
The child looked at Crawford as if wondering if the offer would be rescinded at any moment, when Crawford crossed his arms across his chest, having sat in a lotus position. At some unknown signal the child snatched the bowl and started shovelling the rice into his mouth.
Baba opened the door and strode in, careless if she disturbed anything. “Your red haired demon said you asked for me.” She said, and then noticed the child on the floor. He was glaring at her, clutching the bowl of rice to his chest as if she would take it away from him. He managed to shuffle backwards away from her. “Oh,” she said quietly.
“He is to be Ran’s whipping boy.” Crawford explained, “but Schuldig has no sense inside his red head, the boy is too young, too thin.” He stood up, “nevertheless he is paid for, make him a useful addition to the household.”
Baba crouched down and offered her hand to the child, who was more than half wild, “do you have a name, little one?” she said softly, the transition in her from terrifying matriarch to maternal was instant and Crawford would have given a pretty penny to explain the transition. “Look at you, now where’s your Mama, do you have a mama little one?” the child’s huge blue gaze wavered between fierce and longing. “How about you come with me, little one.” Each time she repeated the pet name the child visibly softened, “and you can bring your rice, and we’ll get you clean and all the bugs off, and then we’ll get you into some warm clothes. You just come with Baa-chan.” The child rested the bowl in the crook of a painfully thin elbow, “and then do you know what we’ll do, we’re going to put all the bugs and the creepies and the crawlies into the red headed demon’s soup, and when he compliments us, and tells us it’s the best soup he’s ever had we’ll just smile and say that’s because it’s made with love.” In that instant Crawford could see why everyone, including Sena who was clutching her hand tightly, loved her so desperately.
“Sena,” Crawford said to her back, “his name’s Sena.”
“Well then, Sena,” she carefully said the name, “we’ll get you clean and fed and we’ll make that red haired demon suffer, and his black haired friend.” Crawford wanted to chuckle at the threat to Schuldig, and Yohji, because it wasn’t him, but he didn’t dare.
Hikarin met Ran in the main hall where she had decided that they would begin their lessons. She wore a heavy silk kimono and had styled her hair, which reached to the floor, up with two ivory wands. Ran was amazed because she was very beautiful and very graceful and he was grateful that she had been chosen to tutor him in these arts.
He had lost everything and all that remained was Crawford who was sometime cruel and sometimes kind. He would do his duty, he would do everything in his power to please him.
“So,” she said sitting at the small table that she had ordered and pouring tea with a gesture so lovely Ran thought his heart would break seeing just that tiny expanse of smooth white forearm. “You are the tayu, hardly lovely enough for that, but it is not my place to question what your patron paid for you. Where were you trained?” She stopped handing him a bowl of tea, “of course, you must be local, do you have a sister(1)?”
“My sister is Aya.” Ran answered calmly.
Hikarin paused trying to see if she could remember the girl in question. “Aya Fujimiya?” She asked and then laughed, her laugh was one full of sexual promise. “No, little brother, the woman who trained you?”
Ran paused for a moment. “I have had no tutor in the arts to which I have become dedicated.” He had chosen the words carefully.
“Then who chose your name? Who would call you Orchid?” She asked, her fingers tightening on the glazed bowl of tea.
“It is,” he lowered his eyes, she had not poured him a cup of tea in which to lose his gaze so he stared at his obi instead. Baba had taken Kimi from him and was attending to a child that Schuldig had acquired in Kyoto. “My parents.” He said.
She laughed again, this time her laugh was scornful. “A tayu can not go by their birth name,” she said as if it was the best joke she had ever heard. “They must have a name that shows their grace, their skill, their gei, their very sense of iki.” She cast her head, “I suppose in that case it falls upon me to name you, child.” Her entire tone was derisive, “I know,” she said with a bright and brittle smile, “I will call you Aya. It means Brightly coloured, don’t you know.” She put down her tea bowl, “and you will call me Aneki.”
1. The sister Hikarin speaks of here would be the woman who trained Ran, all yujo, geisha, tayu whatever call each other sister, this is where Ran’s confusion comes from.
Glossary
Ameratsu – The Sun goddess of Shinto.
Aneki – older sister.
Bikiko - Hel
Dairai – imperial court
Daimyo – a landowner or lord.
Danna – a patron
Doitsujin - German person
Ecchi – pervert (a very mild form of the word, lit H as in Hentai.)
Fundoshi – a wrapped loincloth worn by men.
Gaiden – legend.
Gaijin – Foreigner
Gei - art
Genkan – small area in front of the door where shoes are kept.
Genki – Chipper
Hakama – split culottes
Hanzubon – shorts
Hikarin – Schoen
Horimono – Japanese tattooing
Iki – sense of style.
Juni Hitoe – Lit twelve layers but the many layered kimono of the Heian period before the sumptuary laws, this could be over forty layers of fabric.
Kaasan – Mother
Kimi – she who is without equal.
Kimono – a decorated robe
Konketsu – half-breed.
Kyu – the lowest ranking in Go
Mizuage – a deflowering ceremony
Moku – two corresponding lines in go – marks one area.
Monogatori – lit: story of a person; romances or stories.
Nagajubon – a light white kimono worn under the more ornate robes.
Natto - fermented soybeans
Nigiri – a pressed rice ball
Nihonjin – Japanese person
Obi – the wide belt used to fasten a kimono
Okaasan - mother
Omemie - Neu
Omusubi – wrapped rice balls
Onmyoji – sorcerer
Ouji-sama – your highness.
Seppuku – ritual suicide by disembowelling.
Seppun – the act of pressing mouths together- the worst of all perversions.
Shibari - the art of rope tying.
Sumimasen – the most formal way of apologising, I used this because there is no English equivalent.
Tabi – split toed socks
Takoyaki – fried balls of octopus and flour.
Tansu – a Japanese chest. This is a distinct style.
Tanto – a short bladed sword, usually used by women, part of a set.
Tatami – a mat, rooms are measured by tatami.
Tayu – a very high-class courtesan, also called an Oiran
Usagi - Todt
Yukuta – a light cotton kimono worn for sleeping or festivals.
Sena is about three or four. I had to sort of guess.
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