From a crisp, warm day to a humid summer rain, the bright blue sky was overrun with a film of wispy grey clouds that spilled fat, heavy raindrops sparingly upon the earth below. Come sundown Azalea had been trapped in this storm, her hair drenched and her clouds soaked through, she watched from the bare back of a stolen brown mare as blood ran down her thigh and mixed with the water, turning rose petal pink as it ran down her leg.

Now, but a few hours after she had collapsed by the front door, she now sat safely within the confines of the grand manor, fresh silk bandages tied about her wound and a compress of herbs to speed her recovery. The fine scent of incense lingered all about her and if she closed her eyes, she could hear the soft, light footed steps of servants rushing along the polished timber floors, the pluck of an instrument and the sound of men laughing in the heat of their inebriation. When she opened her eyes, she only saw the rain as it fell upon the gardens, she watched the faint silhouettes of trees as their leaves were crushed under the weight of the rain and she watched the reeds in the lake as they bent wisely and survived because of their lenience. Azalea lowered her eyes quickly, footsteps approached, behind her the rice paper screen door opened and a soft feminine voice spoke.

“Lord Goza will see you now,” Azalea lowered her chin slightly, her satiny charcoal tresses fell freely across her shoulders and dripped down to hang across her cheek and tumble into her face.

“Miss,” the girlish voice spoke again, Azalea rose flawlessly and stood in the same kimono she had arrived in, cleaned and pressed and no longer stained with blood, she was barefoot and without her sandals her legs seemed impossibly long. She turned and faced the woman who sat compliantly on her knees outside the door with her hands face down in front of her and her head lowered.

“Lord Goza has a guest tonight, Daimyo Ichiro Nobu, aid to the Shogun,” she lifted her eyes and looked over Azalea’s attire the parted her lips to speak again.

“Let him see me the way I am, I’m a kunoichi not a geisha,” and she pulled the door all the way open and stepped out, the woman simply nodded and pulled the door gently closed.

Up the stairs and down the hall, she could hear the laughter more clearly now, the sound of the instrument had silenced and male conversation dominated the room with talk of weapons, clans, battles and politics. Azalea did not lower herself to her knees and bow her head as she opened the door, she stood and slid it open, revealing herself in the door with raised eyes and a tightened jaw. Lord Goza Masato, a tall, fit, handsome middle aged man with a full head of black hair tied back into a slightly spiked ponytail sat opposite a low table to a balding, larger man of about the same age with squinty eyes and rosy cheeks, between them was a geisha girl, her black hair swept back, her face painted white and her lips red, her kimono of the fairest silk and richest of reds, she held in her hands a sake pot and was refilling their cups only to pause as Azalea entered.

Masato’s laughter died as he turned his head and looked upon the kunoichi girl as she stepped in, closed the door behind her and sank to her knees where she sat with her hands atop her thighs and her cerulean eyes turned to lock directly with his.

“What’s this?” the larger man who she could only assume was Nobu lifted his hand and gestured towards her so quickly that he spilt most of his sake over his plump fingers. “A hanamichi whore to offset our elegant little geisha, Masato, you shouldn’t have!”

Masato cleared his throat and cast Azalea a stern look as he lowered his sake cup to the table and turned his head towards Nobu.

“My friend, this is one of my ninja, Yukiko Azalea,” Nobu seemed to trip over the name, he coughed up the sake he had just tipped to his lips and wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve as he looked at the girl. She sat proudly and turned to meet his gaze and upon seeing her eyes the man grinned slyly and held his cup out for more rice wine.

“Ah I see, that fisher girl you were telling me about, no wonder she has an English name,” he laughed and drank his sake, managing to keep it down this time as he shook his head and lowered his cup to the table. “It’s just not right,” he croaked, swallowed and cleared his throat then spoke clearer. “A woman should not be so wild,” he looked at her and seemed to pick her apart piece by piece. The free falling locks of her hair, her cold resilient eyes, her short kimono to which his eyes lingered upon a few moments too long. “A woman should be docile, demure and obedient,” he turned to the geisha girl who smiled as she straightened her back slightly and must have blushed under her makeup. “She should arrange flowers, pour tea and please a man, not trip over in mud and cut herself on weapons meant for men.”

Azalea twitched slightly but kept her tongue as she looked over to Masato, the man was the epitome of calm and he chuckled softly as he turned to face her again, she wasn’t sure if he were simply ‘making nice’ with the man or if his values were linear with Nobu’s, she’d have thought them not but now could not be sure.

“Azalea is a fine kunoichi,” he said with a smile, “Often rough around the edges but she has the elegance of any geisha with the skill to match any man in combat.”

Nobu spluttered again and looked over Masato as if he were joking. “A woman match a man in combat? Impossible,” he looked over Azalea again, his gaze lingering on her exposed flesh too long once again.

“Trust me,” Masato said with a definitive tone, “She has the scars to prove it and a life still very much in tact, she is but one of my blades and shall continue to be for years to come.”

Nobu nodded though there was scepticism in his eyes and Azalea could tell he wished to pursue the argument further and would have if Masato had not ended it there and then.

“Now then,” Masato faced Azalea once again. “Did you retrieve your heritage?”

“Yes, My Lord,” Azalea said, referring to him in such a way was her first notion of respect to any man, she would not to speak to Nobu in such a way.

“Then our debt is squared, they are yours now.”

“Thank you, My Lord.”

Masato smiled and turned to face Nobu again.

“My Lord…” Azalea bowed her head very slightly and spoke quickly. “With your permission, I would like to return to Edo, there is a matter that concerns me and I wish to gather information pertaining to it.”

“Should I know what this matter is?” Masato did not look at her but offered his cup for more wine.

“It’s importance has not yet been assessed My Lord, the moment I know, I shall write to you.”

“Very well, in two days you shall be fit, you may leave then.”

Azalea parted her lips to object, then paused and submitted herself to his decision.

“Yes, My Lord.” And she stood and turned from the room, leaving them to return to their sake while she returned to her room.

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