You worked as a courtesan, an oiran to be more specific; you were smart, talented, kind, all of the kamuro looked up to you, the yūjo admired you, they wanted to be just like you.

Recently, there was a new client at the red light district, none of the other courtesans wanted to serve the man, claiming that he was too intimidating. It was him, Madara Uchiha — the name alone sent a shiver down your spine; however, being the kind soul that you were, decided to serve him, to spare the other courtesans.

Then he started coming more frequently, sending you gifts you were sure cost more than a thousands of ryō; he would send kanzashi, expensive kimonos, wine, saké, bonsai trees… It was as if he was….getting attached?! no, that was impossible!!

there was no way, right…?

—

Tonight, after a long, long day of work, he came by, he was your last client for the night — He sat with one leg propped up, his arm on his knee, his chin in his palm, his gaze following your every move.

“Did you receive my gifts?”

He asked, his voice rough, low, one that got people's attention every time it was heard.