Chapter 141: No Makeup
Kyōgoku House, second floor, in a shadowed room.
The door opened and closed again.
Daki walked in and sat down in front of the vanity.
"Onii-chan, come out"
Gyūtarō peeled himself off her back, sliding down until he was leaning against the wall. And he looked at her.
Daki didn’t speak.
Neither did Gyūtarō.
A long silence stretched out.
Then Daki grabbed the comb sitting on the vanity and threw it against the floor.
"¡¡¡AAHHH!!!"
She shot up and started pacing in circles, stomping her feet.
"That man!! Who the hell does he think he is?! How dare he, how DARE he lay a hand on me!!"
"In front of four women, Onii-chan!! FOUR!! He dragged me out like I was trash, like I was—!"
Gyūtarō watched his sister’s outburst with a blank expression.
"He told me to get lost!! ME! He made me sign that disgusting contract, burned me with sunlight, and for what? Just to throw me out of the room like I was some dog?!"
"WHAT DOES HE THINK I AM?!"
Gyūtarō let her scream it out. When she was done, or seemed to be, he spoke in that same tired voice as always. "My silly sister."
"WHAT?!"
"You still don’t get it?"
Stopping mid-step, Daki looked at him. "Get what?"
Gyūtarō scratched his cheek and sighed. "That human’s playing you."
Daki froze.
"From the moment he walked through that door, he was manipulating you," Gyūtarō’s voice was lazy. "From the moment you stepped into the room... every move you made, he was pulling the strings."
"He just wanted to see how far you’d let yourself be pushed."
Daki stayed silent.
"My stubborn sister, you showed way too much eagerness. And I’m afraid he already figured out you came at him with other intentions."
"So what if he figured it out!"
Daki’s eyes flashed red all at once.
"I don’t care!"
"..."
"I’m going after him anyway!"
"Going after what?"
"Winning him over!! I’m going to make him mine, even if it’s the last thing I do!"
If before she’d done it for Muzan, for the mission, now she was fighting for something simpler: her pride.
Gyūtarō stayed quiet.
Daki stepped closer, tilted her head up, and looked at him.
Her eyes were red, glistening, tears refusing to fall.
"Onii-chan."
"Hmm?"
"Am I beautiful?"
Gyūtarō looked at her.
That face, eyes still irritated, hair a mess from all the pacing, pouting like an angry little kid, was still, hopelessly, beautiful.
"You are."
He gently stroked Daki’s head, a proud smile on his face.
"Aside from being a little naive, my sister is without a doubt the most beautiful woman there is."
"So... you think I can win him over?"
Gyūtarō didn’t answer right away.
He looked at those eyes full of expectation, of an almost childish hope. And way down underneath, the same stubbornness as always, the indignation that wasn’t going to burn out no matter how many times he laid the truth out for her.
He could see that she understood perfectly well that she was being used. And he could see that she didn’t care.
Finally, he sighed.
"Fine. If you really want to go, go."
"Seriously?!"
Daki jumped up, nearly slamming into the vanity, and took off running for the door before he could change his mind.
"Wait."
A hand grabbed her by the wrist.
Daki looked back.
Gyūtarō was watching her.
"Not now."
"Why not?"
"Go once it’s dark out."
Gyūtarō let go of her wrist and walked toward the window, looking at the sunlight pouring in.
"It’s daytime. If it comes down to a fight, that won’t work in our favor."
"There’s no need to fight, I don’t want to kill him yet."
Gyūtarō narrowed his eyes. "Well I do!"
He scratched his cheek with his fingers, and blood started welling up between them.
"I don’t want to watch my cute little sister get humiliated by some human again~"
Daki looked stunned for a moment, then pouted.
"Onii-chan, you still don’t believe in me!"
Gyūtarō didn’t turn around.
He just patted his sister’s head gently.
He didn’t say anything.
He couldn’t see through that man.
Having lived four hundred years, the people he couldn’t read could be counted on one hand.
His sister, playing games with someone like him?
Fine. Let her.
It wasn’t often he found a toy he actually liked...
Let it be.
And if things went south, he’d personally take care of finishing it off.
Either way, that’s how it had always been, for hundreds of years.
Daki glanced at the door, then at her silent brother. She opened her mouth, something wanting to come out, but she swallowed it back down.
In the end she gave in and waited, even though she was unbearably impatient.
The sun finally went down.
When the last trace of the evening glow disappeared below the horizon.
Daki jumped to her feet.
"It’s time!"
She ran for the door...
And stopped dead.
Gyūtarō raised an eyebrow. "Now what?"
Daki didn’t speak.
She was remembering the four women who’d been around Marcus during the day. All of them bare-faced. Not a drop of makeup.
She turned around and walked back to the vanity.
She looked at herself in the mirror.
She had makeup on, lavish clothes, and her hair pinned up in a tall, elaborate bun.
That was her usual look when she played the Oiran.
But now...
She raised her hands and started undoing her hairstyle, tug by tug.
Her long black hair came loose, sliding smoothly down to her waist. And little by little, it began to change, turning white.
She grabbed a cloth and wiped her face, scrubbing with a bit of restrained frustration, until her skin was bare.
She stood up and yanked off her kimono in one pull, letting it fall.
From the closet she pulled out a simple one, pink, plain compared to the last one. She put it on.
She looked at herself in the mirror one last time.
And there, in the reflection, was a girl who didn’t look older than eighteen.
In those eyes there was still something left of the little girl she’d once been, so long ago.
That little girl’s name had been "Ume."
Daki studied her own reflection, and the corners of her mouth curved up slightly.
This has to be enough.
She threw open the door and ran out.
She never saw that, behind her, Gyūtarō had gone rigid, eyes wide, fixed on the figure disappearing down the hallway.
"U... Ume...?"
...
On the third-floor hallway, several courtesans and servants, busy with their tasks, looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps.
And then, everyone froze solid.
Rags dropped to the floor.
Trays dropped to the floor.
Mouths hung open.
What was that...? Who is she?
That shape of a face, those eyes, that air about her warning anyone off from getting close...
Could it possibly be...?!
"Oiran Warabihime?!"
A servant finally managed to place her.
Daki shot her a sidelong glance.
"Where’s Marcus?"
"T-The boss... the boss went out..."
Went out?
Daki’s brow furrowed slightly.
"Where to?"
That familiar cold voice made the servant shudder from head to toe.
"The new boss left word that if anything came up, we should look for him at the Asakusa Mansion..."
"And the address?"
"I-I have it written down..."
The servant pulled a folded piece of paper out of her clothes and handed it over with both hands.
Daki took it and gave it a quick glance.
Asakusa, such-and-such street, such-and-such number.
She tucked it away and turned toward the stairs, without another word.
Behind her, the group stayed frozen in place.
Only once her figure had vanished did someone whisper.
"Was that really... Oiran Warabihime?"
"I can’t believe it... how can the Oiran look like that?"
"It’s her... I know that face..."
"Wow... turns out she’s this gorgeous without makeup on... she’s even... kind of cute!"
"S-Shut up, idiot! You trying to get us killed for saying that?!"
...
Night fell.
On the streets of Yoshiwara, the lights blazed bright.
Daki walked through the crowd.
Her face was serious, and she said nothing.
Even so, the people around her stopped one by one as she passed.
Someone walked straight into a post.
Someone missed a step and stumbled.
Some just froze, staring at her with glazed eyes, until a shove from behind snapped them out of it.
There were even some who followed her for several blocks just to get a little more of a look.
Under the moonlight, she looked like she’d stepped out of a painting.
Long hair, white as snow. A simple kimono. Perfect features.
Without a drop of makeup, and still more dazzling than any dolled-up woman.
"Miss, which house are you from?"
Someone couldn’t help himself and approached her.
Daki ignored him.
"Miss, can I buy you a drink?"
She ignored that too.
"Miss, where are you headed? It’s not safe to walk alone at night. Let me escort you!"
A man stuck his arm out, trying to block her path.
Daki stopped. She looked at him.
The man felt a chill cut straight through his chest the moment their eyes met, but, stubborn, he didn’t lower his arm.
Crack!
"AAAHH!!"
A bone-chilling scream rang out into the night.
Clutching his shattered arm, the man collapsed to the ground.
The people around started screaming and took off running in every direction.
Daki pulled her hand back and kept walking.
Asakusa Mansion.
That’s where she was headed.
This trip had one purpose only.
Revenge
She was going to make that man who’d humiliated her end up on his knees in front of her.
Begging her.
Pleading with her for the simple privilege of kissing her feet.
...
In front of the great gates of Asakusa Mansion.
Daki stopped.
She took a deep breath.
The coldness on her face melted away, replaced by a shy expression. Mixed with a little nervousness and a touch of poorly hidden excitement.
She raised her hand and knocked on the door.
Knock, knock, knock.
A small window slid open, just a crack.
A face appeared in the gap. Pale, shadowed, with a look so heavy with contempt it seemed to have weight of its own.
"Who are you looking for?"
That look, that tone... it was like he was staring at something stuck to the sole of his shoe.
Daki was stunned.
If she’d had a mirror handy, she’d have shoved it in her own face right then and there. Just to check she didn’t have, like, an extra eye or something.
The thing with Marcus had already been surprise enough.
But how was it possible that even the doorman, THE DOORMAN, was immune to her beauty?
"I... I’m looking for Master Marcus."
Her voice carried a note of childlike innocence.
"Tsk." Yushiro looked her up and down.
Under the moonlight, this girl looked like she’d stepped out of a painting. Unrealistically beautiful.
But!
His expression didn’t shift a millimeter. Still the same "I’m looking at garbage" face.
"Name."
"Wara... Warabihime."
Yushiro’s brow furrowed.
"Wait here."
Slam
The little window snapped shut, right in her face.
"..."
Daki stood frozen in front of the door, completely stunned.
She hurried to straighten her kimono, smooth down her hair, check that there wasn’t anything weird stuck in her teeth.
No... nothing wrong.
So then why that look from the doorman...?
...It was like he was looking at something disgusting.
Trying to calm herself, Daki took a deep breath.
’It’s nothing.’
’He’s just a doorman.’
’The real target is that man.’
She lifted her head and fixed her eyes on the closed gates, still not opening.
A cold glint flashed through her eyes.
’Just you wait... the second I win that man over, the first thing I’m doing is kicking this doorman out on his ass.’
__________
Throw your stones, drop them ALL! 💎
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