the beginning pt2

Yuki’s workplace was quite unique looking, as if each part of it had been built and designed by a new team. There was a Western-style portico, with the sort of stained glass that had been popular before the Great War, but the roof was tiled in the way of a traditional Japanese house. The vibrant reddish-orange of the tile showed through the snow that lay thickly across all the rooves. When Chie stood on her tiptoes to look at the roof more, she saw a bell-tower like a church would have. It was one of the most beautiful buildings she had ever seen, because and not in spite of all its eccentricities.

As the two of them took their shoes, coats and such off in the rainbow-tiled hall, they were ambushed by some of Yuki’s co-workers. The four women practically tackled Yuki to the ground, speaking loudly and all at the same time. Chie could pick out the odd word, mostly them berating Yuki for not telling them where she went and making them all worry. They didn’t seem to realise Chie was there at all. Watching such a display of sisterly affection made her feel odd. Her chest ached, her throat felt strangely tight and there was a funny pain at the back of her nose. She was fond of her little brother and older cousins, but being the only young lady in the family could get lonely. A girl at school had been one of seven sisters and had always seemed so protected in the flock – they’d walked together to classes, and the oldest sister had always brought snacks when she came to walk her juniors home.

Just as her eyes began to prickle, Yuki – who still held the edge of Chie’s sleeve somehow, although no longer her hand – remembered she was there.

“Ladies, ladies, this is Miss Chie. She stumbled into a brawl and I just had to rescue her. We need to get her home before her family worries too much. Could you look after her until I gather enough money for a taxi fare? Tomoe, you’re on tickets this afternoon, right?”

A dainty girl who looked just like a Hina doll nodded – even this small movement was so elegant.

“She can sit with me, it’s no trouble.”

Yuki smiled widely.

“Thank you! Now, I leave her in your capable hands. The boss will kill me if I’m any later.”

She ran off, leaving Chie with the other ladies. Chie couldn’t think of anything to say and the silence hung thick and awkward in the air.

Tomoe tugged on Chie’s sleeve.

“I have to take some of my costume off, follow me to the dressing rooms.”

“O-okay.”

There was that cursed nervous stutter, back to trip her up. It seemed to pick the worst moments to show up.

It was awkward to walk with Tomoe still holding her sleeve, since the other girl was quite a bit shorter, but the slow pace meant Chie could look more at her surroundings. The entranceway was lined with a kaleidoscopic rainbow of mismatched colourful tiles. Each design was just as beautiful as the others – flowers and fish, temari balls, abstract swirls of light, bells and fruit – and the colours were so vibrant, like jewels held up before the light. It felt a little like being inside a jelly castle made of all the fruits in the world, a flavour Chie was certain, somehow, tasted just like sunlight and birdsong. It seemed a perfect match for Tomoe’s colourful junhitoe layers and the vibrant paste gems dripping from her hairpins and her earrings. Besides her hair and eyes, as dark as lacquered wood, and the moon-like radiance of her skin, all the colour seemed so very bright. It was like she was the centre of a stained-glass window.

The dressing-room was dark, lit by dim red and green-shaded lamps, and full of a princess’ wardrobe-worth of clothes. There were sequined and patterned costumes flung on the backs of chairs, over screens and onto tables. A few of the ladies were still backstage, applying powder and gossiping. Chie, without thinking about it or needing to be cued, helped Tomoe strip down to her innermost outer robe and take out some of her hairpins. Tomoe’s hair was almost supernaturally soft – Chie felt a little jealous, really. She knew that envy wasn’t something she should let affect her this much, but something about girls like Tomoe or Yuki who had the classical good looks of ukiyo-e heroines made her stomach twist.

Tomoe coughed. Chie realised she’d been just staring blankly into the dusty mirror, petting Tomoe’s hair for several minutes.

“Do young ladies often pet one another’s hair at the sort of social gatherings you go to?”

Chie could feel herself turning pink. She tried to give some sort of explanation but all that came out was a squeak like a balloon letting out air.

Tomoe let out a jingling laugh and sat up, taking hold of Chie’s sleeve again. The short girl led her through a dark, narrow hallway to a small booth with a cash register and lockbox.

The customers were a real mixed bag – there had been that woman in the fur coat and hat whose perfume saturated the whole room with citrus and bergamot, or the whole troupe of men in bowler hats. Chie mostly sat on a little stool by Tomoe and handed her change or the ticket roll, while Tomoe engaged with the customers.

As if all the life had been drained from her body, Yuki flopped onto the ticket counter with a dramatic sigh. She was rather more finely dressed than earlier, although the blue and pink kimono she had been wearing was visible beneath all her other layers.

Chie couldn’t think of anything to say.

“You seem much more confident at work.”

Voice muffled somewhat by the counter, Yuki replied in an exhausted tone. Her voice sounded hoarse.

“It’s easier to talk to people when I’m – when I play this sort of persona. It’s all acting. You’re probably much better at these things – all those parties, you know, practise?”

Chie giggled, “Oh, hardly, I’m awful. Polite conversation is ever so dull. Everyone just wants to talk about croquet and brag about their sons’ achievements. I’ve gotten quite practised at paying attention just enough to nod at the right moments – otherwise I think I would have actually died of boredom. Far too many of these boys seem so proud of – of catching a medium-sized fish on a daytrip to the country or something. Honestly, I’m surprised they didn’t bring the fish to events. At least that would add some excitement.”

Face still on the counter, Yuki snorted with laughter and banged her forehead into the wood, hard.

“Oww…”

Then, frantically, as if she’d just remembered something, Yuki reached within her clothing and took out a small purse full of coins, pressing it into Chie’s palm and took a deep breath. The purse was still warm from her body heat. When Yuki moved, the scent of her perfume – ginger and spices – blended with what must have been her sweat. It felt oddly intimate.

“Miss Chie, I have something to - I feel bad for not correcting you earlier, I shouldn’t have – I just couldn’t find the right time to mention it. I’m a man.”

“Huh?”

It didn’t quite compute in her mind. Yuki was tall for a woman, certainly – taller than Chie herself, who was already above average – but her fashion sense and her mannerisms fit so naturally into the character of a young lady. She seemed more like a true lady than Chie herself – although, she’d read a history of Peking opera that spoke of crossdressing actors who were ‘more like women than women themselves’, and men played women in kabuki and Shakespeare, so clearly it wasn’t without precedent. And there was that person her mother had written about a few years ago – how had she phrased it again?

“Do you – is this, um. Is it that you have the soul of a woman but not the body to match it?”

Yuki’s face showed pleasant surprise.

“Ah, no – although I have met many a lovely lady in such a situation – it’s just a matter of fashion. My face and looks are rather feminine and women’s fashion, besides simply being nicer, gets me more tip money from the crowd. One should dress to suit one’s figure, after all.”

That made a good deal of sense, although it wasn’t something Chie knew much about. Working outside of the family business would greatly disappoint her parents, so the tactics of a working girl – no, a working man? – were unfamiliar to her. It was a whole new world, despite being in the same city she had lived in for all her life.

Chie coughed to clear her throat.

“Would you walk me to the cab? I’m afraid that, particularly in this weather, my poor sense of direction will get me lost again.”

In companionable silence, Yuki once again took her arm and led Chie back to get her coat and boots. The pair walked to the nearest taxi-cab rank in the early twilight, snow still falling. Just as she was getting into the cab, Yuki spoke suddenly.

“If – if you want, come back to talk sometime, okay?”

His face was flushed from the cold – and perhaps a little from shyness. Between the snow and their clothes, Chie felt like she was in a storybook. She managed a nod back, her words sticking in her throat for some reason, and Yuki closed the cab door. As the car drove through the snow and the dim streets, her mind raced. It really had been such an odd afternoon, although it had yet to sink in somewhat.

It was late evening by the time Chie walked through the front door. Her father sat in his usual overstuffed armchair, looking rumpled. She felt the familiar pang of guilt for worrying him.

“I just got lost, Father. With the snow and all, it’s easy to get turned around. Some nice ladies from – um – a café rescued me and gave me money for a cab fare.”

He let out a paternal grunt. Chie’s father wasn’t one for verbal communication, but the people around him had learnt to guess his meaning fairly reliably. He’d been worried but didn’t seem to be upset with her. Good.

The snow had soaked through her boots slightly, so her socks left wet marks on the floor. Her mother would chide her for that if she were there. On the way up to her room to get out of her cold, damp clothes, Chie sneezed rather loudly. The noise summoned her grandfather – who had an uncanny knack for appearing out of nowhere – who gave her a knowing look. Maybe it was his business sense that let him see right through her, or maybe it was a grandfather thing, but thankfully he took a permissive stance on her occasional small lies.