Chapter 22
Their tutor wears a mask.
It’s a scarily detailed one.
“Greeting. You may call me Spider.” The tutor-Spider, matching her mask, says. Her voice is calm. A little too distant for Ayaka’s liking. It’s harder to create a good relationship with someone who purposely put themselves far away.
She puts on a smile anyway, bowing politely
“Hello, Spider-san. I’m-” Before Ayaka can say her name, a hand covers her mouth. Two, actually.
Both her mother and Ann are holding a hand over her mouth.
“Child. You shouldn’t offer your name so easily.” their mother says, her face suspiciously white.
“Name is the shortest spell.” Ann explains simply, and is that a thing? Spell. Ayaka thought this world’s magic is chakra and its jutsu.
Spider stands there silently, waiting.
“Camelia.” She says, and Ayaka doesn’t know who she is referring to. Her mother is Tsunami, and her sister Ann. There is no Camelia here. “You asked me for lessons. Are these my students?”
“Spider-dono.” Their mother nods, “This is my daughter.” She puts a hand on Ayaka’s shoulder, squeezing lightly.
“And this is my apprentice.” Their mother gestures toward Ann, voice somehow less warm than when she was speaking about Ayaka.
“I would like them to learn from the best.”
And it’s quite strange. Their mother called Spider with a suffix. Respectful one.
Their mother doesn’t put suffixes with people’s names. The only one Ayaka has seen she does it for is the owner of the brothel-of the organization. The.. madam. Their mother is prideful but sly. She will not use suffixes for anyone who doesn’t deserve it.
So how come a girl, mere years older than Ayaka, her child, deserves that?
How highly-ranked is this Spider?
And if she is so high ranked, how did their mother convince her to take two children and teach them?
Spider tilts her head.
She is beautiful, but cold. Ayaka thinks distantly.
Her hair is long, black stands that flow straight down her back, unbridled by pins or decorations. The mask covers the upper half of her face, but not the lower. There is no blemish on her skin, not even a beauty mark like the one Ayaka has. She doesn’t have the sort of natural lip tilt that Ayaka, Ann and their mother share.
Her chakra is well-masked. Strangely blank. Not fully blank, but the type of blankness you know is hiding something. Spider feels like life and light and growth, but it’s so faint.
In the midst of a house filled with elaborate kimonos and yukatas, she wears a simple piece. She holds the air of someone too pure to be in this place of lust and sin, too filled with goodness that none can touch and taint her.
Ayaka kind of wants to try.
“Daughter?” Spider inquires, staying where she was. It appears like she doesn’t have the intention to actually approach them.
“Yes, my daughter, Spider-dono.” Their mother replies, bowing deeply. “I entrust them into your capable hands.”
It is a second or two of silence, before Spider makes a noise of agreement and nods.
Their first lesson is in two days.
Ayaka notices that her sister is a bit… distracted, these days. She looks far away.
Not enough to be noticeable to anyone else, of course. But Ayaka is her twin.
Little daydreams and sighs. Far too longing looks to be placed on flowers. Origami everywhere.
“Do you have a crush on Spider, nee-sama?” Ayaka asks discreetly the night before their lesson.
It wouldn’t make sense for Ann to be crushing on Spider, of all people. They don’t even know each other.
“What makes you say that?” Ann raises an eyebrow at Ayaka, confusion in her tone.
“You were distracted. All days. Since you met her.” Ayaka stops and pokes Ann every comma, puncturing her thoughts. “You are never this distracted.”
Ann chuckles lowly, ruffling her hair roughly. “Stop thinking such ridiculous things, Imouto. Go to sleep. Or would you like another lullaby?”
Ayaka readily agrees, diving under the cover.
Only when she was already half asleep did Ayaka realize that Ann never actually answered the question.
“I am Spider, of the Omoya.” Spider sits elegantly behind a desk, reintroducing herself.
Despite the room being traditionally decorated, with tatami and all, she is not kneeling in seiza.
How… weird.
“Do you have a name you prefer I use?”
Ayaka refocuses and offers. “Hana?”
“Hana.” Spider repeats, turning slightly, looking at her. Or, Ayaka can only assume she is. Spider’s mask has no eye hole, but a round, seemingly smooth surface where the eyes are supposed to be.
A spider with closed eyes in what seems to be mercy. How strange.
Spiders aren't merciful creatures, after all. They round up their prey, tie them up in webs and keep them there, alive and starving until they decide to feast. If anything, they are crueler than most.
“Please call me Kochou.” Ann says, using the familiar name.
“Kochou.” Spider repeats it obediently. It’s like she’s testing something.
Ayaka and Ann bow deeply in respect, echoing.
“Please take care of us.”
Spider nods.
“That is obvious.”
Sliding over two blank masks, Spider gestures for us to wear them. And it is perfectly blank. There’s no identification, no sign to know. White wood and smooth surface with only eyeholes. It leaves no room for skin.
“Wear your mask. Today you follow me.”
Spider leads them away from their mother’s place. She calls it the Blossom house, introducing it to us as simply a branch of the Omoya, the main house.
Blossom house is near Konoha. It’s one of the biggest brothels, most famous within the district.
Most of the district is Furoushiku, but there’s competition inside.
Spider didn’t say that, but Ayaka knows it well enough.
The Omoya is further away, closer to the forest.
Far enough that it doesn’t seem a part of Konoha.
There’s an air of something else here. The chakra flows strangely, filled with something else.
It fills Ayaka’s lungs weirdly, and Ann already coughed.
Spider stops for a moment, tilting her head at them, before she seems to remember something. She steps closer to the sisters, brushing a finger down their masks, from forehead to the tip of their nose.
There’s power at her fingertip, something not exactly chakra. It feels different. Purer, somehow.
“Better?”
The air seems to clear, Ayaka’s lungs easing with each breath. The strangeness of the chakra fades away.
Spider doesn’t seem so bad.
Everyone knows Spider.
And Ayaka means Everyone.
As soon as they walk into the Omoya, people recognize Spider and bow. They whisper her name with respect, and their bows show that.
For a place full of masks, people are surprisingly emotive. Their bodies seem to act in place of expressions, their chakra calm and blank with barely a tint of emotion.
These people appear to project themselves to the world, safe and content within these halls.
Spider doesn’t react to any of them.
“Who was the highest ranking person, and why do you think so?”
Spider led them to what seems to be her room at Omoya. And it’s blank. There’s decorations, sure, and little twists that can only be personally made, but it feels blank. There’s no sign that Spider actually lived here and this isn’t something set up to seem homey.
It’s like this isn’t actually hers.
“Why is your room so strange?” Ayaka asks instead.
“I believe I asked first.” Spider sits down on her bed, raised slightly off the ground so she has room for her leg.
Ann and Ayaka sit in seiza in front of her. Their mother dressed them in yukata, delicate things that should be carefully treated.
Spider has never kneel. Not in front of them.
Why though? She wears a kimono, it is most polite to sit seiza in them. Instead, she chooses chairs and high grounds, unwilling to bend her knees.
Ann answers in her place.
“You. Furoushiku respects power, and they all respect you.”
Spider tilts her head, then turns to Ayaka.
“You, I think. You didn’t bow your head once.” Ayaka guesses, because Spider seems the traditional type, and she will pay respect to those who are due.
“Of the people you have met, yes.” Spider answers. “Those we met out in the hall are mostly Shiten and Ha, the fourth and fifth ranks of Furoushiku.”
She pulls out a small table from… somewhere. Where did it come from, for god’s sake?
She put forth a small, white something. A seed, perhaps?
“How many ranks are there?” Ayaka asks, looking weirdly at the seed.
“Hokori, Shido, Naegi, Mewodasu. The lower echelon. Shiten, Ha, Tsubomi. The middle echelon. Koyo, Ki, Chikyu. The upper echelon.”
Spider ticks off the 10 names.
Dust, Seed, Seedling, Sprout. Branch, Leaf, Bud. Foliage, Tree, Earth.
All somehow connected with trees. Natures. How strange.
“Then the managers, the Maman.” She says. “Camelia is one. She is the Maman of the Blossom house. Regardless of rank, if you are of the blossom house, she is your superior.”
Ayaka twitches in understanding. That’s why their mother never has to bow her head to anyone in the district. She’s of their highest rank, after all.
“Mother bowed to you. Why?” Ayaka asks. Their mother is prideful. Not to the point of arrogance, but prideful nonetheless.
Spider does her creepy turn. Ayaka still doesn’t know if that means she’s looking directly at her or not.
“Because she is lower ranked than me.” A simple answer, but contradictory.
“Mother is a Maman. You said it yourself. The highest rank.”
Spider raises a hand, and Ayaka stops talking.
“Maman isn’t a rank. It is a position.”
So in position, their mother places high. Not in rank. It still doesn’t seem to fit.
There’s a sort of reverence to their mother when she was talking with Spider. Something quietly admiring, a little too tinted with sadness to be actually admiration. She wisely doesn’t continue the topic.
“Mamans report to the Madam. The Madam is the one who manages the whole of Furoushiku.”
“Isn’t that too much work for a person?” Ann asks, while Ayaka is gleefully distracted. “Can a man be the Madam?”
“The Madam is the Madam. What does gender have to do with them?”
“Madam is an address for woman.”
“And it is simply a title. The one who carries it is the one that matters.”
Their lesson is a simple thing, at least today.
Spider would lead them around, watching people, and when they returned to her room, they would answer her questions. If they’re curious, they would ask.
Simple details that help them identify the ranks.
How people act when they’re a certain rank.
The way people carry themselves in different places.
How the hierarchy plays around here.
How to act toward certain ranks when they are… themselves.
They are barely even a Hokori yet. Their masks are temporary, and they must return them to Spider when they leave for home.
But Ayaka notices some people who are outside the norm.
They wear the sort of kimono that would take fortune to get. They act differently.
Among the ranks, they are the abnormality.
And Spider is one of them.
Those people have masks without any of the marking Spider taught them. They don’t fit into any of the formats Spider has told the sisters.
They walk with silent feet yet their clothes make noises as they walk.
Their hair is well decorated and their mask painted too strangely. Too vibrant, too colorful, yet so bland.
It’s strange.
Their masks seem realistic, yet it all seems to blur together when Ayaka tries to look closer.
They hold themselves differently. They are well assured of themselves, and in a house of ambitions and fighting in the shade, that is rare.
But that seems to be a question for another lesson.
“Spider is… weird.” Ayaka says to Ann. They are somewhere near the rivers, where the water goes crisscrossed and little lakes abound.
“Of course she is.” Ann says, slightly dozing off. “Furoushiku isn’t very normal, and she got a very high rank.”
Ayaka eyes Ann considerably. Logically speaking, she shouldn’t know much more than Ayaka-the information disparity, in such a short time frame of 2 and a half months, couldn’t be that big.
Except it is.
Ann knows a lot more-how? Rumors? Questions? Overheard info?
What happened, and how exactly did she gain that knowledge?
And why didn’t she take Ayaka with her?
Ayaka pouts at the thought, pursing her lips. Then she gets flicked on the forehead.
“Don’t be so dull, Imouto.” Ann drawls lazily. “The pleasure of cracking a puzzle yourself is far more than that of being told.”
“I know.” She whines, but doesn’t complain.
It is rather exciting to unravel secrets.