(D2 Entry) Butterflies of the Night, ch. 3

[Fallen Angel]

Title: Butterflies of the Night
Author: Fallen Angel, fallen_angel_2012@hotmail.com
Categories: Alternate Universe, Series, Romance
Rating: PG-13 for now, but contains LEMON in ch. 13
Disclaimer: don't own+not making money=don't sue

Chapter 3: Heero

{


It was not a far walk to the Ichikoko from the Po okiya. Not that Relena would’ve minded a far walk - it would’ve given her more time to think. In fact, she was still thinking deeply when one of the maids from the okiya greeted her at the entranceway and helped her out of her zori. Relena was so deep in thought, in fact, she was halfway down the hall when she remembered to say thank you to the maid. The young maid only smiled demurely and moved on.

Relena cursed herself mentally for being careless. A once off rudeness was easily forgiven, but as one of the most popular geisha in Kyoto and a regular at the Ichikoko’s famous parties, the last thing she wanted was to get a reputation amongst the servants as being too stuck-up to be courteous. Which, of course, she wasn’t. Just out of sorts.

She didn’t realise how badly, though, until she was in the hallway and realised she’d forgotten to ask where she could find Dorothy, the mistress of the Ichikoko. Luckily, though, the sounds of a shamisen could be heard from one of the smaller but well-kept rooms in the back of the house. Relena had a keen enough ear to know that whoever was playing was an expert and knew that back in her days as a geisha, Dorothy had been notorious for her musical skills. She followed the music to the room and slid the door aside.

“Relena,” Dorothy paused mid-note to look up at her friend and give a half-smile. Relena knew she was privileged to receive such a genuine smile from Dorothy and returned it.

“Please don’t stop on my account.”

“Very well,” said Dorothy, one eye on her instrument and one on Relena. “Do sit down, though. I’ll have the maid bring us some tea.”

“There’s no need. I can’t stay long. I really just dropped by to say hello.”

“Oh,” Dorothy looked up now, but by some amazing skill, kept playing without missing a note. Relena couldn’t help but feel envious: only years of strict training had taught her how to play the shamisen while keeping a gentle expression and calm smile but she certainly couldn’t look away from her instrument without dropping at least one note. But with her perfectly chiselled features and perpetual half-smile, Dorothy was as beautiful and relaxed playing a complicated piece as some women would be lying in the bath. “Just hello? Are you sure?”

“Well, actually, I came to ask you if you knew anything about General Yuy.”

Dorothy returned her gaze to her instrument but the smile didn’t fade. “I’m flattered you find me such a mine of information, but what makes you think I would know anything about the famous General Yuy?”

“Um, well…” Relena hesitated for a brief second. “It’s just that you know so much of what’s going on, not just in Kyoto, but in Japan in general.”

“Like the way I know Sally Po and Lucrezia Noin plan to make General Yuy your danna?”

“I was wondering how long it would take the news to reach you.”

“Not long at all. So what did you want to know?”

“Oh, well…what do you know?”

“I’ve heard,” she said, emphasising the last word, “that he’s a good man. A little cold and difficult to know, but honourable. At least, that’s probably the word of his comrades and you can hardly trust that to be the truth. But you asked me what I’d heard and that’s it.”

“A good man?” Relena raised her eyebrows incredulously. “I can’t believe that a man who has led armies to war could be anything but good.”

“He fights those wars so we don’t have to. All soldiers do,” said Dorothy, as calmly and plainly as if she were saying the sky were blue.

“But people have died at his hands,” continued Relena vehemently. “I know we don’t see much effect of war here in Kyoto, but I have read the news. I know that men are dying on the battlefield and - honourable or not - General Yuy is fighting those battles.”

“If he were dead, you would not be speaking of him this way. You would be calling him a war hero,” said Dorothy, her shamisen long forgotten. In some way, the lack of music only made their arguing voices seem louder. “Those men fight those wars so we can one day have peace. You live a sheltered life here, though, and the beauty and symphony of war are beyond your imagining. So you are also in no position to judge.”

Relena sighed. “How do I always end up having this argument with you?”

“Because, dear Relena,” said Dorothy, half-smiling again, “you are na?ve when it comes to how cruel the world can be. Or are you? After all, you were wary enough to ask me about your potential danna. Perhaps you know the evils men can do?”

“I…I was just curious, I suppose,” said Relena. “It’s just…well, let’s just say I’ve never much liked the idea of being tied so closely to a man I barely know.”

“Look on the bright side,” said Dorothy encouragingly. “He’s young. That may mean less experience, but…”

“Experience?”

Dorothy seemed to hold back a giggle. “Oh, Relena. You have had your mizuage, haven’t you?” Relena nodded her ascent, blushing. “Well, then, you know that men can attain certain skills when performing…you-know-what. Now, based on your questions I doubt your mizuage patron had much interest in your needs, but it is possible for a man to do certain…things…to make the experience more enjoyable for you. Do you understand?”

Relena nodded again, still blushing. “Still, skills or not, I still find the whole thing…I don’t know…unfulfilling. Like I’m still empty afterwards.”

Dorothy raised a forked eyebrow. “What is it you want from this, Relena. Love?”

There was no point hiding it. “I…I would like it.”

“Oh, Relena, Relena, Relena,” said Dorothy ruefully, shaking her head. “How can a woman be so worldly and so sophisticated and yet so innocent and na?ve?”

“I don’t know, but I suppose you’re going to tell me?”

“Relena, your problem is that you look at life as if you were an oak tree - steady and deeply rooted to one thing. Housewives and businessmen are like these. We are not. We are more like butterflies; our future is uncertain and possibly brief. You should look no further ahead than one day but see, in all its beauty, the happiness that one day can offer you. Women like you and I can ask for no more than this.”

“So is this all we are?” asked Relena, frowning. “Playthings? Dolls? To be used and then discarded?”

“No, but once you think of yourself this way that is what you will become.” She then shifted on the tatami mat so she was sitting beside Relena. “Keep your dignity, my dear Relena, and if your danna turns out to be less than promised, you will have the inner strength to endure it. And if you can do this, you will not only endure his trap, but work your way out.”

“And then I’ll be free?” asked Relena tentatively, thinking of what Noin had said. “Like you are?”

Suddenly, something passed over Dorothy’s face and she raised a hand to put it against Relena’s shoulder comfortingly. But what startled Relena more than this action - quite out of character for a ‘cold’ woman like Dorothy - was the look in her eyes. It seemed that they were filling with tears but that something in the cool grey-blueness of her eyes was holding them back.

“Free, Relena?” she asked, almost bitterly. “I am not free. Perhaps no woman is. We are all trapped in some way. Some of us by hate or by poverty. Others - the more unfortunate, I think - by love.”

Relena blinked, unable to make sense of this sudden vision into Dorothy’s heart. But just as suddenly at the moment had happened, it was gone. Dorothy was shifting again, to pick up her shamisen, and, as if nothing had happened, began playing again.

Just as confused and thoughtful as she was when she came in, Relena rose to leave, only just remembering, at the last moment, to call out that she would see Dorothy tonight. The soft, sad notes of an ancient song of lovers separated were her only reply.


{ { {

“Heya, buddy, how are you going?”

“You’ve been in Japan many years now, so why do you still insist on using such strange American terms?” asked Heero disbelievingly as he joined Duo at the bar. It was dark and practically nameless, and, since it was one o’clock in the afternoon, deserted. Perfect.

“Hey, don’t change me. Love me for who I am,” Duo retorted and was rewarded with a Heero-patented ‘hn’.

“So what news?” asked Heero finally.

“Well, you have mostly full support for the peace treaty,” said Duo, seriously now. “At first people were doubting that you - being a general and all - could pull it off, but nearly everyone seems as eager for peace as you. The Chinese and Russians also give full support, but you knew that…”

“You said mostly.”

Duo hesitated. “The thing is, there are still a lot of powerful men in this country who would rather see the war continue than have what they call a ‘false peace’.”

“Like who?”

“Rumours are that Lord Trieze Kushrenada would rather keep this war going.”

“Trieze?” Heero raised an eyebrow slightly. It was the only real sign of his surprise. “He backed me publicly. Are you sure?”

“Close enough to it,” answered Duo before drinking deeply from his beer. “Look, of course he’s going to back you publicly if he’s got something up his sleeve. But it makes sense. Most of his factories have been converted into warehouses and production of weapons. He would lose a lot of money and power if the war was suddenly over. Not only that, but he fought hard in the wars a few years ago and probably holds tight to the thought that the Chinese and Russians will always be our enemies.”

“They will be if this treaty isn’t signed,” said Heero resolutely. “And we can’t put it aside because one lord disagrees with it.”

“Yeah, but you gotta be careful, man. Trieze isn’t the kind of guy to take lightly. You know he lives in Osaka, not far from here. On top of that, the signing is in 2 weeks. Now would be the perfect time to get at you, if he wanted to, while you’re relaxing.”

“I’m never relaxed.”

“You know what I mean,” said Duo, rolling his eyes. “While you don’t have an entire army around you and you’re spending some time at parties and the like.”

“Anything else?”

Duo thought for a moment. “I heard a whisper that he was trying to organise a marriage for his daughter, Mariemaia, but that could be completely unrelated. Still, I’ll keep an ear open.”

Heero nodded, his dark hair falling over his eyes. “Good work. Here.” He slid an envelope over the bar and, barely looking at it, Duo took it. But as his hands clasped over it, his eyes widened in surprise.

“Heero, either you’ve decided to use lots of small notes or there’s a lot more here than there should be.”

“It’s for the future,” answered Heero.

“Since when did you worry about my future?”

Without looking at his friend, Heero answered. “I know about that girl…you called her Hilde.”

Duo gasped. “When? How?”

“I saw you the other night. I arrived early and thought I’d catch up with you as soon as possible. I saw you sneaking out and the rest is history. Don’t worry, I’m the only one who knows.”

“That’s good of you, Heero, but money won’t help.”

“Why not? Once she becomes a geisha…”

“No,” Duo shook his head sadly. “We’ve spoken about this and I can’t be her danna. It would change everything. I don’t want her to love me because I’ve paid her to. I want it to be her choice.”

“But you already care about her, and if I’m any guess, she feels the same way.”

“And that’s just why I can’t own her,” said Duo, clasping his glass tightly. The entire world seemed to be on his shoulders. Then he shook his head, and soon the old, cheerful Duo was back. “But this isn’t about me, Heero. What about you? Going to find someone here in Kyoto?”

“I hardly think so. I don’t have the time.”

“Aw, come on. Maybe not now, but soon. Once this treaty is signed, you’ll be out of a job.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” answered Heero.

“Huh? But you’ve already got enough money and land to live like a king for the rest of your life. What’s the problem?”

“You wouldn’t understand. When I am a soldier, when I’m fighting, I have a purpose. Without that, I’m not sure what I can value in life.”

Duo shook his head, his braid flying. “You soldiers are all the same. You fight because you believe, as soldiers, that is all you are good for.”

Silence was his reply and Duo looked to his friend. “Heero? Didn’t you hear me?”

But Heero was looking off into the distance, his eyes bright but unseeing. As if he were seeing far into the future or deep into the past.

“Oy, Heero. Earth to Heero.” Duo clicked his fingers in front of the general’s face. Heero blinked.

“Woah, Heero. Where did you go?”

“I just…” Heero frowned. “I just remembered something from a long time ago. That’s all.”

“Hmmm,” Duo said thoughtfully. “Man, you’re wound up too tight. Tonight’s party should do you good.”

“Maybe,” said Heero, but his mind was a million miles away. In a town near Hiroshima, to be exact, with a young girl with eyes like the sky and a passion that could have melted the snow from Mount Fuji’s peak.

I know you soldiers fight because you believe, as soldiers, that is all you are good for…

That was what she’d said. It was only now that he could see how right she’d been.


Translations

Mistress of a teahouse: Usually an ex-geisha or Okaasan who runs a teahouse.