House of Red Blossoms

“No! No, no, no! You get out, Shibagaki!” Uesugi surged towards Arata as soon as he stepped foot into the House of Red Blossoms. “You cannot use my establishment one night and then tear it down the next.”

The House of Red Blossoms traded the afternoon mist outside for a smothering of perfume. Arata even considered removing his dark-glasses due to the gloom—he'd never been inside so early before. Out of the corner of his eye, he could tell Sawatari was stifling a smile.

“We're here on investigation business, nothing else.” Arata pushed further in, letting Sawatari get a proper look of the room. The House of Red Blossoms wasn't a luxurious venue but what they lacked in glamour they made up for in cleanliness. That was hard to find in a place like Giseizawa. Their floors could have been the least muddy in the entire city, mostly because every aspect of the place was fine-tuned to get men out of their shoes and into a room as quickly as possible.

Uesugi didn't seem much more pleased by Arata’s assurance. The fact that on-duty witch hunters had entered inside now floated around the establishment like a miasma. “Well then, whatever could I do for you?” Her voice came curt and precise.

“We’re just following up a lead.” Sawatari replied, looking closer at a woodblock painting that caught her eye. “Is Tsukishiba Yuna free at this moment?”

Uesugi’s eyes narrowed, she didn't even even check the charter. “Is this on the daimyo's orders, because if not then why—"

"We are the daimyo's orders." Arata interrupted. "All opposed to letting a witch hunter carry out their appointed duty might be suspected of collusion, you—"

"Yes, yes, thirty minutes, I doubt you’ll need more.” Uesugi spat, already aware of where Arata's threat was leading. She told them the directions and shooed them away, pretending that thirty minutes was generous for a brothel in the middle of the afternoon.

The smells of a brothel room weren't unfamiliar to Arata. He thought he might even have been in this one before, although through a sheen of tears it was difficult to tell. He hoped this time could be the first he left the House of Red Blossoms dry eyed.

“Sure, he came to see me a few times before but never mentioned anything about a witch.” Tsukishiba knelt guarded on the corner chair, Sawatari cross legged on the futon whilst Arata kept his back close to the wall. Her large eyes fidgeted on a space somewhere between the two witch hunters.

“They never even came up in conversation?” Arata tried again but Tsukishiba just shook her head.

“Most of us just try to forget them as much as we can. Because you two do your job so well, we can.” She replied with a voice she must use on her clients often.

“So what did you talk about, hmmm?” Sawatari leaned forwards, tilting her head a degree.

Tsukishiba gave a sharp exhale and shrugged, eyes rolling up to think. “His company mostly, I never heard a stonemason complain so much about his business doing well.” She relaxed her hand from one knee. “His sister was the one calling the shots, all he needed to do was tell the workers what she said. Then she died and he had to sort everything out. He didn't have the stomach for it.”

“And did he say anything about how she died.” Sawatari got to the question half a second before Arata, her voice more gentle than his would have been.

“Illness, he said she'd always been sickly.” She pursed her lips. “But if you ask for many more details I'll start mixing things up, if I had to remember everything about every client then I wouldn't have any memories left for me.”

“But he said nothing of note last night?” Arata could tell she wanted them gone, no one wanted to sit down to talk to witch hunters for a long period of time. He knew first hand if they did, he had to be paying them a lot of money.

“What? No, he didn't even come in last night.” Tsukishiba replied with a shrug.

“Sorry?” Sawatari leant forward towards her as Arata pushed himself upright off the wall. “We were told he visited here last night.”

“Oh he visited, he just never stepped inside.” Tsukishiba’s voice had grown warmer with the impression this was all she needed to say to get them to leave. “I saw it all from that window.” She rolled her shoulder to the window next to her that gave out onto the establishment’s façade. “He was just talking to two men with reed hats, it was too dark to see what they wore. Then they all walked away together.”

“Which way did they go?”

“I don't know, I stopped watching once I saw they weren't coming in.”

Uesugi might have seen the two men's faces, although extracting that information out of her would be a challenge. He would have to keep that in the back of his mind. “Wealthy clients often give gifts to their favourite girls, was he the type to do that?” Arata took two steps towards the cabinet against the far side of the room. “Anything that belonged to him could help the investigation.”

Tsukishiba flinched before shaking her head. It was subtle, but Arata had seen that hesitation: she had begun to nod.

“Arata, wait!” Sawatari shouted but she just missed his wrist. He pulled out a drawer, writing supplies scattering towards him.

“What are you doing?” Tsukishiba rose to her feet, trying to block Arata’s access to the cabinet with her body. “You can't just do that.”

“I'm doing what's right, we both know she's hiding something, we were just trying to find a reason to look.” He pulled out another drawer, more of a struggle now that Tsukishiba tugged on his wrist with such force, but still found nothing. “This is our reason.”

He muscled his way past Tsukishiba to pull out the last drawer and saw the reason she resisted.  Hidden behind a tipped-over eye shadow pot was a ring of willow wood. It sat blackened on a dish of river slate, only highlighting the veins of smouldering demon fire traced through it. A witch circle.

By the time Arata had turned around, Tsukishiba was already out of the room. Sawatari cut him a glance as she ran in the opposite direction to route her around the front. Why wouldn't I be the one in pursuit? He groaned to himself, kicking off into the hallway. At the far end, Tsukishiba was already halfway through a sliding window, looking at the drop then back at him.

“Stop, you can't run!” But it was too late, she made up her mind and her body disappeared from sight, followed by a muffled cry of pain. He had his hikeshi hook out by the time he reached the window, clutching the wall as he poised on the ledge. Tsukishiba was limping down the street, her eyes focussed on the entrance to Marshtown. Beyond, the road soon twisted into alleyways like a river delta—the only chance she had to escape.

Arata took a breath and pounced after her through the window, slowing his fall with a blade of his hook against the wall. The impact landing on his burnt leg was still enough to make him wince. He rounded the corner just in time to see which alley she fled down and followed her in like a bad omen, his shadow chasing after her.

“Wait, it's not like you think!” Tsukishiba had turned around, her arms out in front as if she thought Arata might swing the hook at her. “That had nothing to do with Koseki.”

Arata began to step forward, closing the distance as night does the day. “In that case you'll come with me to explain yourself.”

“No, please.” Tears welled up in Tsukishiba’s eyes as her knees gave out. “Please just let me go, say I ran away.” She made an attempt at crawling back but there was no more strength. Her voice trembled along with her entire body. “I know—I know what you do to people like me, just please. Please!”

Arata took out his rope to bind her hands but she shrunk back, her fingers trembling with the fabric of her obi. “I remember you. We slept together before, right? You enjoy—enjoyed it, right? I could be yours, they would never know. Just please—” He grabbed her wrist, tying the first knot with intricate finger work. “No, no, no! Please wait, no!” Arata tied the second knot, his mind fumbling for the words to say but his jaw felt locked with steel. She flipped onto her back in her struggle, landing a solid kick against his chest.

He struggled for breath as he tried to keep hold of the rope. Tsukishiba’s nails tried to claw his fingers free and in the struggle he began to lose his grip. From the direction he came, a figure appeared next to his shoulder. Before he had time to react, they rushed to Tsukishiba, holding her by the elbow.

“You haven't been found guilty yet.” Sawatari soothed, her body tensed by Tsukishiba's side, “If you keep running we'll have to presume the worst.”

That was enough for Tsukishiba to collapse like a koinobori without wind. Both Sawatari and Arata had to work together to bring her to her feet and she stumbled back to the street with the rigor of someone recently dead.

“Don't you dare take her, Shibagaki!” By the time they made it to the front of the brothel, Uesugi had clawed her way to the front of the gathering crowd. “You're banned from House of Red Blossoms if you do! Banned!”

He gritted his teeth. There were always other houses.