The morning following the Council of Lords, Yukiana woke up to the sound of Ueda’s and Misasa’s voices outside of her room. They were discussing something at length, and for once Misasa sounded angry. This was enough to rouse Yuki despite the nagging exhaustion of the night prior. The council went long enough into the night, and when she finally returned to her family, she was expected to recount the entire thing for them. She did so with as much detail as possible, for the girls seemed to hang on to her every word. The only part she left out was that of her father, for she did not think that they would believe her, not after what had happened that night with Rin. All her sisters listened intently, and by the end, they were all quite surprised. The threat of war was now looming over the Islands, and they were among the first to know. Everything was to remain a secret to be kept within the walls of the district, of course, but soon the word would spread like wildfire to every girl in Ishihara, from master to lowly eye. When she had finished, the others finally bowed and left the room, and Yuki could rest knowing she had gained a good amount of favor from her peers. Even Rin gave her a rare look of approval.

Misasa finally entered the room and appeared ill at ease.

Yukiana sat up from her futon. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Her mentor shot her an angry look, but then quickly adopted a sympathetic demeanor. “It’s Ueda,” she said, sitting down beside her. “He’s requesting that you graduate from being an eye ahead of schedule. I tried to dissuade him, but he would not be moved. Apparently, you made a good impression last night and have a favorable suitor. They specifically requested you.” Yuki could sense that her last words seemed to carry a tinge of jealousy in them. “Anyways, you are to be made an imouto today, so that you can see him tonight.

“Imouto?” Yuki gasped. “Tonight? Who could it be?”

Misasa sighed. “Ueda did not say, but it’s obviously a daimyō or someone of importance.”

Yuki was crestfallen. If she became an imouto, she would no longer have the immunity that came with being an eye. She would be just like every other girl in Ishihara. She felt sick, a deep nausea in the pit of her stomach. She had no desire to graduate, even if it was for the Shōgun himself.

“But I’m not ready!” Yuki protested.

“I tried,” lamented Misasa. “Ueda usually follows the rules, but this time there has to be a lot of money involved. That’s the only thing he cares about.”

There was silence for a few moments, as Yuki tried to think of a way out.

“What if we...” she began.

“Yuki...” Misasa interrupted, shaking her head. “It is no use. You are expected tonight. You will play, you will talk, and you will...”

Tears began to flow from Yuki’s eyes. “I can’t! I just can’t!”

“It’s always difficult the first time,” Misasa said softly, trying to comfort her. “But you will be fine. You have a rare opportunity here that some people, including myself, would love to have.”

Yuki could not believe it. These girls, even Misasa had been here too long. They did not realize that what was going on here was fundamentally wrong. They were not a family or even sisters, but slaves of the lowest kind.

Yukiana knelt forward, holding her head with her hands, and sobbed. Misasa patted her on the back, but she felt far away. She knew her father was out there, somewhere, but he too was so very far away. And if one day he did save her, then it might be too late.

“Some things you can never get back,” she thought. “Some things you can never forget.”

The rest of the day passed by in a haze. She completed her chores and prepared for the evening in a mindless stupor. The other girls gradually found out, and most gave her words of encouragement while others gave her half-smiles full of pity.

Rin, however, seemed perturbed, as she always was when someone else graduated, regardless of who. “Well, well, little Yuki will finally become a lady it seems,” she said disdainfully. “I’d be careful of those daimyō if that’s what you’re really getting. I hear they can be rather aggressive.”

“Stop it!” Misasa cried, stepping in between the two. “Can’t you just leave her alone? Can’t you see this is hard for her?”

Rin merely sneered. “Watch yourself, little sister. Or I’ll have you cleaning washbowls for the rest of your miserable life!” With this threat, she twirled and went back to her futon and began practicing.

Yuki was already out of tears, and she thanked Misasa for standing up for her. She did not quite know what to do, and once again, she found herself wishing she had stepped over the cliff or had thrown herself into the ocean when she had the chance. Meanwhile, the daylight began to fail, and the evening was fast approaching.

There was little pomp in the graduation from being an eye, and after the excitement of the previous night, the ceremony was altogether depressing. Misasa was the only one in attendance, for that night all the other girls were busy preparing. The ceremony was simple, the eye was to take a brush and paint her ‘new’ name on a piece of parchment. It would then be hung on the wall by her futon, and she would be a full member of the Ishihara community and her family. This would be her name until she was able to graduate to the rank of master and inherit a new one.

Misasa had been kind, and instead of demanding that she take an entirely new name, she recommended that Yukiana just keep the shortened version of her name, Yuki.

“Many of the girls already know it, especially after last night,” Misasa said, forcing as much positivity into her words as possible. “And it really is a good name for this kind of place.”

Yuki did not see that as a compliment but was relieved that she could keep at least some semblance of her former self. She wrote the character for her name as best she could, and Misasa exclaimed with wonder when she saw the finished painting.

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“Eh! That’s amazing Yuki! I didn’t know you could write like that.”

“I used to take lessons,” she explained, a glum half-smile gracing her lips.

“Well,” her mentor added, drawing closer to her, “If you get the chance, maybe you can show some of that off this evening. Whoever he is, he might think you to be a regular geisha and marry you on the spot!”

Yuki was revolted at the thought but feigned a look of hopefulness. Over the weeks she had come to realize that Misasa was firmly rooted in the world of Ishihara. Despite what she said, all her hopes were tied up in the Ishihara lifestyle, and she would fiercely adhere to the well-defined path laid out for her.

She could also see that Misasa harbored some resentment for her though she hid it well. Yuki was experiencing a rare and rapid rise in the hierarchy. This would be a challenge to a girl who had put in the time and effort and seen little result.

As for the ‘deed’ itself, Yuki had only a general sense of what was expected of her. She had heard all about it from some of her friends in Kokoro, and the other girls in Ishihara, and had even read about such things, though she would never admit to it. Yet she knew that hearsay and textual descriptions were not altogether the same as the real thing. That was what terrified her.

She had never thought about ‘the acts of love’ in great detail. It had always been an abstraction, merely part of the natural course of love and procreation. This evening would certainly not be about love, and of all things, this saddened her the most. She had once hoped for love, hoped for marriage. She wanted to experience this intimacy with someone she knew, someone she was bonded to. However, her expectations for her life had been shattered with one tragic turn. This would be yet another thing lost to ill fortune.

Misasa was trying to keep cheery and gave her a few pieces of advice, but she had only limited experience, so there was not much to say.

“Just, you know, make a few noises,” she offered.

Yuki raised an eyebrow. “Noises?”

“Well, I’m not about to do them now!” she hissed, her face turning bright red. “Oh, and kiss his neck! Men really like that!”

“His neck?” Yuki repeated, making a face of disgust. “What if he is sweaty? The summer may be waning, but it is still hot out!”

“Well, he is a daimyō so he should at least be bathed,” Misasa said hastily, missing the joke and taking Yuki’s words seriously. “At least he is not a fisherman. That is the extent of my experience.”

“What if I just go in there and do nothing?” Yuki muttered, throwing all caution to the wind. “I don’t even know who this man is! I don’t even want to meet him, daimyō or not!”

“You could do that,” her mentor snapped back. “And he could be bored with you, and there goes your chance. You always talk about getting out of this place, I’m surprised you're not more intrigued by a real opportunity to do so.”

“I will get out of here,” replied Yuki defiantly. “And not because I became a dog to some so-called lord.”

Misasa was going to reply but instead gave her a foul look and stood up and strode away. Yuki was left feeling lonely, helpless, and afraid. She immediately regretted speaking harshly to her only friend in the district, and now more than ever could have used her shoulder to cry on.

When the hour finally came, a fox came for her at the bottom of the stairs and accompanied her out into the night. Though she did have an escort, Yuki could not remember feeling any more alone.

Fortunately, or perhaps, unfortunately, she did not have to travel far. The most expensive villas were in the central region of Ishihara district, and that is where her mysterious suitor was staying. It was just a short stroll from her building. All the while Yuki silently prayed, “Not the Buta. Please, not the Buta.”

When they arrived at the entrance, several unarmed samurai were waiting outside. Her fox escort stepped by them and pulled aside the door, beckoning Yuki to enter. Inside it was brightly lit, and loud voices were echoing from further within. After proceeding down a short wooden corridor she was admitted into another room, this one quite large and grand. There were colored murals on the outer walls and several overstuffed cushions inside the tatami room. The center had a low table, covered by bowls of fruit, cups of sake, and plenty of meat. There were several lamps, keeping the room so bright that it felt like midday. The roar of laughter filled the air.

There were four figures seated around the table, most of whom she recognized from the previous evening. The first, much to her dismay, was the Lord of Pigs, the Buta daimyō, who had sweated partly through his kimono, leaving a dark stain that was plainly visible in the light. Her heart felt like it dropped to her feet.

“Can my fortune really be this bad?” she lamented internally. Yet there were also a few others, and she allowed her hopes to lift a little. Lord Tora sat amongst them, with his ugly facial scar, as well as his son and a master entertainer, who was sitting between them, smiling flirtatiously.

When Yuki entered the room, no one appeared to notice, until the entertainer at the table finally saw her.

“My lords, we have another guest,” she said, sipping from a cup of sake, and winking at Lord Tora.

“Ho ho!” Buta rumbled, turning his mighty frame towards her. “What do we have here?”

It took everything in Yuki not to shrink back in revulsion. She bowed politely. “I am Imouto Yuki of the Musicians. Please allow me your favor,” she said as confidently as she could, though it came out as a high-pitched squeak.

“Ah, so this is the Ceremonial Eye that we saw yesterday!” Lord Tora said with a dry smile. “You were quite splendid my dear, very beautiful.”

She bowed again, doing her best not to fixate on the jagged scar and his frightening white eye.

“Ah, now I remember!” Buta said with a laugh. “Perhaps the only enjoyable part of the council, besides the sake if you understand me. Well, Lord Tora, I must say, you invite me here, fatten me up, and send me home with a lovely young lass. One would think you were trying to curry my favor.”

“I am trying to curry your favor,” the elder Tora said smiling, “But this young maiden is not for you.”

Yuki’s eyes widened. “Praise the All-kami!” she thought.

“She is for my dear son,” he continued, focusing his singular eye to his right. “I saw him staring at her last night and thought I would give him a nice present since he’s too ashamed to ask for himself. I hope you won't be offended, my friend.”

Buta grinned and took a great swig from his cask. “Ha! Offended? Don't fret at all! Not at all! I have so many women back at my estate that I forget most of their names. Or was it that I never learned them to begin with? Ha! Besides, my lad, what a proper gift. You should be thrilled. I wish I had a father who was so generous. My old man nearly had me thrown out of his house until I killed everyone else in line for the title. Yet what age are we living in when a Tiger refuses to hunt and take what is his? This boy should not need his father to do it for him!”

The young Tora revealed no expression, but his eyes seemed to gleam in the candlelight.

“We are in Ishihara,” the elder Tora explained, deflecting the obvious slight. “Within the power of the Shōgun’s prime consort. My son shows great wisdom in his modesty. Yet, this one was difficult prey. Eyes are apparently forbidden from purchase, so I asked to have her promoted. They said it was impossible, yet I was able to make it possible. And I am sure I can do the same if we were ever to forge an alliance...”

The Buta put his cask down and leaned in closer. “We do have a war on our hands. If you succeed,” he said, his voice low, “I shall remember this evening quite fondly.” With that, he took one last haunch of chicken from the bone and rose. “Well, a Boar and a Tiger sat across a table and did not kill one another, I would say that was a success.”

“I would as well,” the Tora daimyō agreed, rising after him. “Come, let me see you out. I am on my way back to my estate. We can leave these two to partake in the night.”

Both daimyō strolled outside, conversing loudly below the bright stars. They could be heard for quite some time until finally, their voices dissipated into nothingness. The entertainer also took her leave, but only because Buta called from the doorway. Apparently, her presence would be required for the remainder of the evening. This left Yuki face to face with the young Tiger, whose focus now solely rested upon her.