Sakura Understands Reality Ch. 03

Sakura walked her adopted three paces behind her Sensei. At other times He would have stopped eventually, wagged His finger with mock annoyance and motioned her to His side but today He was in essence not here, He wandered somewhere between earth and void. The black ceremonial haori hung like a weight upon His shoulders, the usual straight line gone replaced by a roundness Sakura found unsettling. His geta were noisy, drowning out her own heavy step, the stealthy cat like walk had been replaced by the heavy fall of a condemned man's careless stride. Sakura fought to keep her face calm, retain the posture and respect that echoed the occasion's seriousness but under the pancake makeup her emotions were torn and convulsed with her Masters pain. At last their path took them away from prying eyes and she allowed one tear to gently seep from her right eye to trail slowly down her cheek leaving a livid scar along the white expanse of her face.

Some confuse Buddhist and Shinto teachings with hedonism. The apparent taking of enjoyment in every moment compared with the constant search for endless pleasure. Simply let it be said that neither fatalism nor present-ism can be hedonistic. The present can indeed be good or bad, healthy or unhealthy, but must be accepted, lived and enjoyed whether through laughter or tears. True hedonism rejects any act or situation that involves discomfort or pain, therefore in one breathe refuting the converse nature of life. The endless search for pleasure has no more value than for the philosopher's stone, both are fantasies that misdirect the selfish from true experience.

As tradition decreed Raion had allowed a full funeral with the nōkan ceremony. His father had been cleansed and placed in a coffin and had laid raised on the ceremonial alter throughout the wake the previous day. The dry ice in the coffin proved auspicious due to the days delay to avoid the bad luck of burying on tomobiki. Raion was not concerned being rarely superstitious but His mother, a devout Buddhist has insisted.

Sakura found herself at a loss to know her place. Not being family she had no accepted position but was ever keen to be at her Masters elbow. For many He may have seemed stoic, in control, but she knew every facet, every nuance of His demeanor and saw the torment barely hidden within. Eventually it was His own mother who had beckoned and seated her where she longed to be, behind and to the right side of His position. Twice during the funeral He had faltered, twice He had carefully stretched His arm backwards between the chairs to touch the knee of her black kimono.

At the end of the ceremony sakura watched sadly as Raion hammered home the coffin nails with a stone bought especially from His father's Zen garden. The procession to the crematorium was somber, the silence broken only by the chant of the Shinto priests and an unfortunate squeak from one of the hearses wheels. The cremation took an hour and a half, her Master sitting pensively in the cherry orchard just to one side. Sakura remembered longingly the many happy times they had spent in similar surroundings and prayed silently for their swift return. The ritual picking of the bones fascinated her. This was her first funeral and the shock of seeing people pass the bones from chopstick to chopstick against all normal social protocol was both startling and strangely moving.

The ceremonies completed, the ashes carefully placed in an urn the procession moved again back through the normally sleepy village. Today the streets held all the residents and their families. No work took place, no school opened, no shops served patrons, the villagers silently lined the streets bowing as both His father's remains and Raion passed. Sakura wondered at this deep degree of loss and respect. The dojo of Raion's father had served the village for his whole life, as had his fathers before him, but the outpouring of manifest devotion was truly staggering. Half way along the main thorough fare there was a halt, unscheduled but understood. The village elders accompanied by the head Shinto priest approached Raion solemnly. All stopped in a line facing her Master and bowed deeply. The mayor and priest then stepped forward and halted but a few feet away, again a deep bow. Raion seemed oblivious to anything except the bows which He returned courteously. The mayor held out before him, gripped horizontally in his right hand, Raion's tanto. Placing His hands either side of the mayors Raion nodded a bow then placed the tanto into His obi, the ritual was then repeating between the priest and Raion but this time passing His katana.

The procession proceeded, the bows from the lines of villagers continued except that the bow to Raion was now much deeper, some even paying the ultimate of respect and bowing in seiza their foreheads touching the ground. Her Master appeared unmoved, unaffected, yet somehow to sakura He seemed taller and more defined than ever before. Where once He had been Raion He was now something more, something that encapsulated everything, past, present and future.

"You must be happy to now be the courtesan of a Daimyo."

Sakura turned to find her addresser to be none other than the wife of yamato the local yakuza boss.

"I had not realized He was Daimyo and am decidedly not His courtesan."

The woman was dressed impeccably but with a style that might have been considered theatrical for a funeral. The colors of her patterned kimono and obi were subdued by comparison to her usual extravagance it was true but certainly more outlandish than sakura would ever consider appropriate. Her hair was magnificent, more so because it was obviously real and not the formal wig so often adopted for convenience. The combs and pins glinted gold, the black and purple decorative flowers exquisite.

"Even a retired geisha is traditionally allowed a little leeway in costume sakura."

Sakura bowed her acceptance demurely.

"It surprises me you were so unaware of your Masters position as heir presumptive. It alarms me more you are not His mistress. You really haven't pillowed with Him?"

Madame yamato lowered her voice to almost a whisper for the last two sentences and murmured discretely from behind the protection of a fan held in front of her mouth.

"We have not pillowed."

Sakura knew that the question did not by protocol require an answer but found herself somehow at ease sharing with the infamous lady who stared so benignly.

"A matter obviously not to your pleasure or advantage my sweet child. We shall have to see how we can help a fellow resident of karyūkai, the flower and willow world."

The yamato residence was a good distance from the village but sakura looking back down the dusty road could just see the still lit lanterns of houses dancing in the light breeze. The night was warm, that clammy heat that falls between restful May and the time of typhoons. They had climbed past the highest of the rice paddies already green with growth of koshihikari, the favored rice variety in this prefecture. A low whistle pointed to their approach having been noted and the eyes of boss yamato's carefully hidden guards followed their further progress. The gate was open, a courtesy to the new Daimyo and sakura nervously followed her Master into the compound. Raion's posture had changed at the first whistle, He was now erect and focused, His left thumb pressed against the underside of the tsuba of His katana.

Yamato and his wife stood in the anti-room leading to their western style accommodation. The construction was a mix of western and Japanese forms, large American style rooms but with some Japanese windows and doors. The complex had originally been constructed in 1949 for the use of the General in charge of the local American Occupation Forces. As a ready-made secure property it suited yamato perfectly for his operations.

"Welcome Daimyo. Your presence honors our home."

Yamato and his wife bowed genuinely which again greatly surprised sakura. For a non yakuza to be shown such respect was unusual. Raion received the bows generously with sufficient formality to return respect but just casually enough to not overstate His position.

"Sakura please why don't you accompany me whilst our men talk?"

Madam yamato took sakura's arm courteously and led her from the anteroom through a large seating area to a smaller quieter room overlooking the rear spacious floodlit garden.

"They have politics to discuss. The changing of Daimyo means a new negotiation of arrangements. Raion is His father's son but not at all the same proposition."

Sakura glanced around her and was amazed at the opulence that met her every glance. Certainly the furnishings were recognizably Japanese in style but of an extravagant construction and quality she had only seen before in Governmental buildings.

"My husband is very generous. He ensures I enjoy nothing but the best. Thereby getting everything he desires in return."

"My Sensei has very simple tastes by comparison madam yamato."

"Please sakura you must call me by my first name, chouko. It is inappropriate for the Daimyo's courtesan to be so formal with someone as unimportant as me."

"But madam yamato I am not His courtesan."

"Chouko please sakura and we shall resolve the other question soon enough. I instructed my husband to invite the Daimyo here, on the pretext of settling political matters, simply to enable me to begin to rectify this unfortunate state of affairs. Raion needs a courtesan, now more than ever and you are the ideal choice. The position He finds Himself elevated too, quite unwillingly, is stressful and both intellectually and physically demanding. You must be His panacea for all these ills."

A clap of chouko's hands bought two maiko to the room.

"Ayame please tell the Daimyo and my husband that sakura and I are retiring to the bathhouse. It has been a tiring day and we are in need of both cleansing and relaxing. Kaoru you will please fetch fresh yukata for both sakura and myself with suitable obis and place them in the dressing room. Then please both of you attend us in the bathhouse."

Sakura sat on a small wooden stool facing chouko. They were both naked except for a small cloth carefully draped across their upper thighs for modesty. Having rinsed the dust and sweat from their bodies they had spent several relaxing minutes soaking in the hot bath until ayame and kaoru had returned from their allotted tasks. The young maiko had changed into light bath yukata simply tied by strings and were now busy scrubbing the two woman's backs with loofah. Sakura found the experience delightful. She had been to the village public baths a few times with her mother but those occasion's invariably involved social responsibilities. Here she felt far more relaxed. The conversation was light, without purpose beyond friendly exchange and she felt the tensions of the previous two days begin to melt from her shoulders.

"I envy you so much being the property of the Daimyo. He is very good looking and obviously so virile."

Ayame's voice was gentle and played on sakura's ear like a perfectly tuned instrument.

"Sakura is not the property of the Daimyo ayame. She is His protege."

Ayame giggled and began to massage sakuras shoulders with her soapy fingers.

"Excuse my presumption sakura. Perhaps it is just my wishful thinking."

The maiko giggled again and this time both kaoru and chouko joined in the merriment.

"You must excuse our laughing sakura but it seems a strange situation that you do not pillow Raion endlessly. He is quite the most attractive of men and now Daimyo to boot."

Sakura thought momentarily and decided this was not the moment for shyness.

"I have thought it would be quite wonderful myself, but to be honest He shows very little interest in using me beyond as an occasional shibari model."

Chouko smiled broadly at this admission.

"Well my dear sakura you cannot really expect Him to make that decision on His own."

"I really don't understand what you mean chouko. Whom else could make such a decision?"

The geisha and two maiko giggled as one.

"Well you do of course my dear. After all you are the woman and must take responsibility for such things."

Ayame's hands felt so good on her neck. The maiko's hands had a surprising strength that seemed to penetrate through the surface skin to massage away the tension below the surface. Kaoru had moved from chouko's side and was gently soaping sakuras forearms.

"We must take the care to understand our Lords needs and having understood ensure His pleasure is served physically and spiritually."

The loofah in ayame's hand was caressing the back of sakuras ribcage, small tight circular caresses that seemed to excite and sooth simultaneously.

"We must take every opportunity to enhance His existence. Excite His senses by the skills of our craft and let Him witness our metamorphosis from bud to fully open bloom for his picking."

Chouko slipped from the stool opposite and kneeling in front of sakura gently spread her thighs with a slight pressure from the palms of her hands.

"To give ultimate joy we must learn to express our own wondrous experiences in the willow world. We must show every tantalizing touch, every motion is as necessary to us as breathe itself."

The fingertips on sakuras inner thighs were burning embers of desire as they slid ever closer to her core. Ayame's hands had slid around her ribs and the palms now gently cupped and massaged sakuras breasts whilst kaoru leaning forward lathed the hardness of her left nipple with long luxuriant flicks of her tongue.

From His vantage point in the hidden gallery Raion watched sakuras face intently. She was beautiful, an image of loveliness He found impossible to feel worthy to possess. Her eyes were closed tightly her lips open in a half grimace of intense physical torment. Within His peripheral vision He saw chouko's face slide between sakuras thighs and the girl's expression freeze momentarily before melting into a pool sublime release.