13th century Kyoto, Japan. Undisputed turmoil, deception, entertainment, and elegance radiate. Many born and die in this city, many come, many go. This pleasure-town holds many wonders. The Geisha. These elegant "entertainers" wish only to find the highest bidder, only to sell their chastity. They poor tea, sake, serve food, even perform with the fan. Faces painted with white, hair decorated with flowers, and of course, the layered robes of the graceful kimono, a beautiful disguise over sick intentions. The calligrapher. The beauty of his ink, his brush, his skill. The gliding of his magic touches the hardest of souls with the words he weaves. The pouring of the sake in the night-lit restaurants of which are proscribed to those too young to gaze inside the walls. The lighting of the city lanterns, the ringing of the tower bell and the shouting of the school children who do not wish to arrive late for their small educational buildings. Kyoto, the city of beauty'� the city of secrets. However, those who do not look in the dark alleyways do not find the true secrets veiled within the shadowy hearts'�

* * *

The boy gazed in approbation from the tile-plated rooftop. The smoothness of the stone sliding him towards the rim of the rooftop. Once feeling the roughness of the boundary he would reclaim his footing and crouch in a position of security. His eyes flickered with the lights from the restaurant lanterns. Bright red, orange and gold, emitting their light onto the stone walls, the shady tree, the tall lamppost. He contemplated the walls of the restaurant, just managing to distinguish figures of women dressed in long, red and blue kimonos with the golden patterns of oriental flowers fading behind the thin walls. The boy, his dishevelled black hair waving gently in the midnight breeze, stared on admiring the elegant food, clothes and music being played on the far side of the room. Oh he wished he could be one of those people: tall, smart, rich. His dreams faded, returning him to reality, describing his actual state. A young, abandoned boy, setting up home within an empty warehouse near the centre of the city ignored by all who pass by.

The warehouse used to consist of many youngsters. However, as time passed by more and more of the lost friends departed from those who stayed without a word, without a warning. Six people now remain. Those who are determined not to leave their companions and journey together once they're older to realise their ambitions.
The rackety wooden building was very tall, consisting of two floors, open to the entire building. Once through the wooden sliding doors which formed the entrance was where the lobby was situated. A green plant stood in the left hand corner, a tall lamp on the top right and a vacant desk now used for playing and sleeping on. Stairs were located on both sides of the lobby giving access to the second floor and its open balconies. The floor however consisted of nothing but one room filled with sacks of stolen food and thrown out futon mattresses now acting as beds for the young people. The warehouse, although barren and desolate, was a kind, safe place where they all felt protected from the worries outsides its walls and the heartache of their past. It was a house of unwanted children and, over time, children who were tired of being wanted.

* * *

Fufuhi, one of the most acclaimed geisha houses in the city, stood proudly at the edge of the city centre. Its courtyard decorated with beautiful flowers and a shed resting at the back. The building itself was marvellous as all women grew their jealously of knowing they could never become part of the house's citizens and rest eyes upon the rooms within it.
Even though it was one of the most acclaimed geisha houses, it was one of the most unknown. It was located in the middle of a wide yet almost deserted alleyway where only locals passed by, usually giving the odd wave to people who lived and settled in the alleyway. However, Fufuhi outshined its neighbours in both beauty and successfulness. Probably one of the richest estates in the city it outdoes itself in the kindness of its inhabitants.

'Ayumi!'� The voice of Ini-san rang throughout the walls of the house. The owner of the geisha house took pride in her geishas and those who lived with her. A habitually kind woman with a soft, gentle tone who treats others as good as they should be. The patter of feet sounded on the padded floor above her. Ini-san was residing in the kitchen organising the night's meal. The feet were heard rushing down the wooden stairs which lead into the hall and then pattered into the kitchen.

'Hai, Ini-san?'� The young woman stood before her mistress. Ayumi was most definitely the most beautiful girl Ini-san had known and she proclaimed to her sisters that Ayumi was most probably the most beautiful 16-year-old in Kyoto. She was dressed in a long, silk white kimono folded at the bottom giving her feet space to move. The bow of the kimono, golden as it always was, was tied perfectly as Ayumi knew that her mistress loved appearances. Ayumi's beauty was not in her dress, however, but in she herself. She had gorgeous shoulder-length, brown hair styled in a way you could only imagine. Her crystal blue eyes shined everywhere she went and her skin as smooth as the top of an undisturbed river. She was perfect all over.
Ini-san looked at Ayumi with a smile. The youngest of her household was most definitely the most beautiful. Ini-san smiled.

'It's midday, Ayumi.'� She said, still smiling.

'I know, Ini-san.'� Replied the girl, 'What do you need of me?'�

Mariani Ini sat down at the kitchen table and leaned back on the chair.

'I need you to do a favour for me.'�

'Of course, Ini-san.'� Ayumi felt curiosity around herself. 'What favour?'�

Ini-san stared at Ayumi, seeing the curiosity of the girl swirl within her crystal-like eyes.

'I need you to go to see Marayori-san. He said he had something he wanted to give me that he had forgotten to give last night. I said that I would send one of my girls over to collect it.'�

Ayumi realised that her mistress had indeed gone to see Marayori-san and a few other high individuals at the local restaurant last night and, desperately wanting to meet this famous Marayori-san, she leapt at the chance.

'I will go at once, Ini-san.'� replied Ayumi. 'I will get ready.'� With that she returned to her room upstairs and did as she had said.

* * *

The tower bell struck 8'oclock. The warehouse lobby was neatly littered with the ones who lived there. Five young people, two at the age of sixteen and the rest at the age of eight, lay silently until awoken by the chimes of the bell. Jihiko, the sixteen-year-old boy eldest by a few months, sat up straight on the desk which housed his bed. Mariai, the 16-year-old girl who was the second eldest, straightened herself up from underneath the desk. The other youngsters were more stubborn about getting up in the morning and squirmed, annoyed by the sound of the bell. The elders looked at eachother with a sigh, agreeing silently to let the little ones sleep a little while longer. They both claimed a place next to eachother on the desk and discussed the day's events silently.
'Whose turn is it to get breakfast?'� asked Jihiko, slyly knowing that it was Mariai's turn the day before but wishing that she believed it was her turn today. The girl looked at him.

'You know it's your turn today,'� she said, 'but if you desperately don't want to do it I'll have another turn.'�

'It's actually Kohaku's turn today,'� replied Jihiko, 'but he hasn't shown up here for days.'�

'He'll come back, he always does.'�

'Where do you think he gets to? He's barely here anymore.'�
'I know. He can't think that we can raise these kids all by ourselves. He'll return.'� Silence once again filled the warehouse. 'Oh, how was the restaurant last night?'�

'Oh yes.'� replied Jihiko, suddenly remembering, 'I couldn't see anything through the walls that well and I almost fell off the roof once or twice but I managed to get a look inside.'�

'And? Does it?'�

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