Post by Ishiyama Kokoro on Mar 27, 2009 14:27:40 GMT
dance with me sweetheart o dance with me now
under the sails then across to the bow
dance by the waves to the sound of the sea
til only two remain; my sweetheart and me
Kokoro was tired of her lessons. Her calligraphy brush daudled lazily across the parchment at the bottom of her assignments inking out a simple landscape. One she had only ever seen in books. The dark tip of the writing implement depicted trees upon hilltops and roughly drawn animals over the fields. Kokoro had never been outside of the city aside from the few times she had been allowed to visit the Imperial City with her father. And even then she was kept inside of the carriage at all times between the two clusters of buildings. The countryside in between was blocked from her view by the satin curtains. Sighing delicately Kokoro replaced her brush and stood up from the nest of velvet and satin cushions she had been kneeling on. Being very careful not to let her flowing sleeve hit the small pot of ink or the wet writing on the paper she moved away from her little knee-high desk and turned towards the windows of her bedroom. It was slow to move in the heavy garments she was forced to wear and the difficulty of each movement was tiring. No wonder the ladies of the courts and the wives of the Diamyos took afternoon naps. She had always thought it was to do with showing your authority; that they were allowed to behave and relax how they wanted. Kokoro occassionally wondered if this was in fact a lie and they actually needed the sleep after moving around all day in the thick and bulky dress.
Kokoro's costume consisted of five layers. The lowest and closest to her skin was a simple; a sort of all in one body sock so that if any of the upper layers were to shift ever so slightly her virgin skin would still be hidden. Above that was a layer for warmth- a tunic-like shirt and wide trousers that bunched at her ankles. The third layer was sparce but for some reason counted as one in itself; a long scarf around her neck and then hung down her front, the ends of which poked out around her feet. The fourth swath was clothing was the biggest, heaviest and warmest of all. It was the large over-jacket that hung to her feet and had to be rolled once away from her hands. The sleeves were swoopingly long and gaping and the front of the jacket often left hanging free. Over the top of that was the outer garment. Similar to the jacket beneath it it was very thin and even longer in all dimensions, hanging nearly a foot behind her and several inches off of each of her finger tips. It was annoying and a nuisance but it was what was expected, and it made her look smaller and more befitting of her role as the eldest unmarried daughter of the Ishiyama clan. This could also be said for her hair, which, today was swept up onto her head, where it was twisted into an elaborate bun that hung with beads and decoration. The rest of her hair- and there was a lot of it- hung down to past her mid-back, sleek as a jet black satin waterfall. With each turn of her head or body her clothes made a soft noise and her hair jungled every so slightly in melody. Her face was carefully and delicately painted a little in the lips and around her eyes and her ears supported two fine creations in silver. Her feet were adorned in satin white slippers that made no sound upon the floor of her room, or in fact the rest of the house. Every man she had ever met loved the way she dressed. She hated it. It was just such a nuisance.
Moving to the opposite side of her bedroom Kokoro stood before a vast wardrobe. The design was very western but the wood was from Linn and depicted, in different shining grains the same scenes she had been doodling at the bottom of her notes. Opening one of the two doors into the large cupboard she spied the box sitting on the bottom of the compartment. Tilting the lid up slightly with one slim hand she smiled as the small bundle of cloth securely sealed inside.
Suddenly the there was a timid and respectful knock at the door of her chambers and Kokoro quickly and quietly shut the door of the wardrobe and moved nearer to the small desk, calling as she did so.
“Please come in.”
Her teacher was the one to enter. Janemara-san was a older woman of her fifties who wore a slimmer and darker type of kimono and robes to Kokoro. She was not of high birth so there was no decoration in her hair or gilding on the chopsticks that stuck out from her bun. But the garments she wore were of fine material. She was honoured to be the tutor of the Ishiyama family and had taught all of Kokoro’s siblings. Kokoro sighed lightly as she moved back to her desk and knelt once again onto the smooth satin cushions, her back straight and elegant and her hands resting meekly on her lap. She had only just finished her homework from the previous afternoon and it was time for lessons to begin again.
Four hours later it was sunset outside. Kokoro was in a hurry in her bedroom. She had already eaten the evening meal with her family- a tradition in the Ishiyama clan- and been excused to her chambers. She had moved elegantly and slowly back to her bedroom as was expected of her. But now she moved with haste. Quickly and carefully- so that she didn’t end up in an inconceivable tangle of folds- Kokoro removed the top three layers of her clothing. Feeling decidedly small and cold she quickly hurry to her wardrobe again and removed the bundle that had caught her eye before. Unfolding it she let a larger tunic than the one she wore now, fall to the ground. It was of a similar female cut but a size too big and of a coarser, more common material in green. She quickly pulled it on followed by the traditional socks and shoes of the region made of reed. She then pulled on some simple gloves- a broken nail would cause uproar and give her away (Kokoro rolled her eyes). Carefully she removed the decorations from her hair, laying them on her desk. Normally she would have had a helper to allow her to undress but tonight she had claimed to want to work late and she would undress herself. Turning her back to the mirror she fashioned her hair into a type of plait. It wasn’t as orderly or well-done as the servants did it but she was getting better at the technique. She had only had to do it herself the last few weeks afterall. For this little adventuring of hers had only started when she had turned seventeen.
Her father had banned any kind of relationships between Kokoro and the male servants or guards. Before, she had played with them and enjoyed their company but now that she was of marrying age and an object of desire to many men she was forbidden from seeing them. This had upset Kokoro greatly and she had committed her first rebellious act against her father. She had snuck out. Instead of being confined to the house of the great Ishiyama clan Kokoro had persuaded a few guards she had always been friendly with to escort her into the city dressed as a civilian. They had begrudgingly agreed, especially after Kokoro had taken an interest in bars and entertainment halls where she had allowed them to drink.
Moving silently throughout the house in her dull and decidedly normal outfit Kokoro slipped across the main hall of the house, across the polished wooden flooring, and made it out the front door. Raising her finger to her lips to quieten the guards who had become tense and alert on the other side she smiled at them and took two fat silver coins from her small purse at her hip. Handing them over to keep them quiet she headed for the stables. Upon reaching her favourite house- a tan mare with dark nose and hooves she found him already saddled as usual. Her favourite guard of the family Kenzu-san was waiting for her with his own stallion. She smiled at him and he smiled nervously back. Older than her by some five years he was still one of the least experienced of the guards she would normally have following her, but she liked his sense of humour and his willingness to teach her commoner swear words.
Pulling herself onto the horse she sat side-saddle and headed for the door of the stables.
Once out in the streets of the city Kokoro found herself relaxing. She was always nervous going in and out of the Ishiyama mansion but once in the city itself she was calm and yet excited. She headed to another area of the city she had yet to discover properly and paused at a likely looking bar. Grinning at Kenzu-san she slid from the mare and tied her to the bar outside noticing the obvious difference in pedigree between her and the mustangs beside her. Heading into the bar Kokoro smiled and breathed in the smell of the ordinary. Her smile broadened further than it had all evening as she felt the music from the back enter her body and the warmth from the fire calm her spirit. She could smell alcohol, sake, tobacco and fish.
The evening was very enjoyable if uneventful. Kokoro never really did anything to draw attention to herself when out and about on her nighttime wanderings. Instead she just sat at a table with Kenzu and watched people. People with ordinary lives and clothes and jobs. They fascinated her no end. She was especially interested in those that carried weapons. She had always been enthralled with the idea of learning how to fight- not being dependant on other people to protect her. She didn’t like the idea of someone laying their life on the line for her simply because she was unallowed to lift a sword.
After leaving the bar Kokoro noticed that Kenzu wasn’t particularly in his right mind and smiled. At least he had been having a good time also. She felt a little guilty forcing him to come with her.
Suddenly, as Kokoro was pulling herself up onto her horse, two hands grabbed her waist and pulled her roughly backwards. She felt the fingers dig into the coarse material of her tunic shirt and her fragile stupid hands couldn’t hold onto the saddle. She was tugged hard and her head fell back as constricting arms wrapped around her waist. She heard an angry yell and a squabble to her right and behind her but couldn’t see what was happening. Then she was being dragged towards an alley. It was the dark gap between the bar and a ramen shop. Her feet slipped and slid against the cobblestone, trying to get a footing and her braid swung wildly. She was tugged about so that she was being dragged backwards rather than sideways and she could see Kenzu-kun on the ground, knocked out cold. She tried calling to him but her throat was tight with fright.
Her capture swung her around again and shoved her up against the harsh and cold stone of the ramen shop and her skull cracked against the brick. Spots of colour flashed over her vision and then focused on the dark and shadowed face before her. She was scared. She had never been scared before but she was sure it was that emotion that was making her heart thump heavily in her chest and her muscles tense. She struggled as best she could but the guy- for she was sure it was man- had her wrists bound and pressed back against the wall either side of her face. She leant back as far as she could, trying to melt into the brick. Someone…. she thought… Please help!
Kokoro closed her eyes tightly shut and prayed.
