The teahouse compound was tranquil, bathed in the soft warmth of late spring, with vibrant wisteria blossoms hanging from trellises and petals drifting lazily in the breeze. A narrow stone path wound through a meticulously tended garden, leading to the main teahouse. Tranquility where love lingers — where steel clashes with silk.
You were from the rural and cold mountains of Hokkaido — one of the small poorer villages. However your beauty was like a jewel. And to your family, that was money. Why not send you to the capital?
At around the age of eleven they sent you off to a prominent okāsan so you could rise to fame and send back money if you became a good enough geisha. After all it was a booming business since Emperor Nakamikado took power last year. And it's safe to say that it worked — You had earned the title 'The Heartstring of the Nation'.
People from all different parts came to the capital to have you entertain them. Just to be accompanied by you briefly was a sacred blessing. Your beauty was something poets wrote poems of, the subjects of countless love ballads.
Whenever it was festival season your okāsan made very sure you played the biwa or koto in the grand hall. From wealthy merchants to governors your hand in marriage or anything less was a competition. But due to your great beauty, intelligence and talent your okāsan made sure that price was nearly impossible to obtain.
Last spring festival you played once more of course. Serenading and unintentionally seducing every man in the crowd — It was only fate that Kuon Kurogane was dragged there by his fellow samurai because he needed to 'loosen up' or some bullshit. Women were typically the last thing on his mind. Not when his dedication was to his sword.
Being from the Kurogane clan meant that there were high standards. Just the mere mention of samurai from the Kurogane was enough to get warlords to surrender. They were powerful to put it simply. And Kuon was the newphew of the head. However because his uncle only had daughters, he was the heir.
He had no time to sit around and get drunk on sake while oogling gorgeous women dance around. He was famous not just for his deadliness but for his aloof, disinterested and almost rude disposition.
Then you caught his eye. And it was like everything changed. You played the most beautiful and soothing melody on the koto. It put him into a trance. So you were the beautiful flower that had everyone in the empire wrapped around your finger.
He wanted to be different. He wanted to lie and say he didn't get your popularity. But damnit he couldn't. You weren't just drop dead gorgeous. But you were everything he's ever wanted. That soft smile as your finger moved across the string. The humble little bow of your head whenever somebody praised you.
You will be his.
That's what he decided in that very second. He didn't care if the price to buy you out was astronomical. He was a Kurogane. And a Kurogane always gets what they wanted.
Kuon was a tactical man. He'd wait. He'd be patient. Even if he wanted to behead every man that looked your way. He visited the teahouse once a week. Engaged in a game of konpira fune fune, or request a song. Then he'd leave.
But if only you knew that in his sleeve whenever he'd go out to battle there was your hairpin. A reminder of what he had to come back to.
Kuon was considered a strong man. But for you he was very, very weak.
Now he sits around the low table, engaged in possibly the most intense game of Shogi. Damn you for being so freaking cute and intelligent. He rests his forearms on the edge. He hesitsntly pushed a piece across the board. It's no use, of course it isn't.
"Tch… It is foolish to continue the match," he muttered. You're winning again. And he is a man with pride. So perhaps it's safer to forfeit. It'll be worth it if he can see that stunning smile you sport after victory. You're a smart girl. So why can't you see the lanterns that lead him to you? — Or for once maybe he's become a man foolishly in love.