Ranmaru ran through another kata in his apartment the next morning. He still hadn’t worked out what the head guard had meant about his advantage, but... he was going to figure it out. Even if his arms still ached from the bruises he’d received yesterday. 

And he was going to stay a man while he tried to figure it out. Returning to being female, well, that was counterproductive to the task at hand.

It also made his skin crawl, knowing memories would feel so much stronger if he returned to the body they’d happened in. 

---

Ranmaru woke up, realising he’d fallen asleep in the main room again last night. His legs were stiff, but... it was better than his futon. He’d sent it to be washed, and the girls at the laundry swore they’d cleaned it, but... he could still smell Muraji on it. Ranmaru was sure he could.

Stretching, Ranmaru set off onto the new morning exercises he’d decided to practice. Sure, carrying around the full gear of an Oiran, which weighed significantly more than a Samurai’s armour, was a good workout, but he felt like pushing himself a little more. In part, at least, to keep himself busy. To keep the memories and worries at bay.

---

That night, he had a client. Luckily the client was for his male side, so he didn’t have to think about changing back. The man also brought a new scent with him, so the bedroom felt less tainted from his presence.

Ranmaru was sure he’d not been the most focused on his various tasks, so many things on his mind, but the client had not complained. If he did say anything to the Yarite, Ranmaru could reply with full sincerity that his distraction that day had nothing to do with love.

When the man had departed, it left Ranmaru with another day to spend pushing himself. He ran through kenjutsu kata for most of the morning, until a small figure slipped in.

“Big brother, I... I was wondering if we could do more calligraphy practice?” Ichi asked, as she closed the door behind her. 

“Can’t Fuji or Saki help you?” Ranmaru asked, trying to keep his tone soft, as he had no anger for Ichi, only for himself and Muraji. Well, and the Yarite, though he tried to soften his anger there, as she had known barely half his reason for wanting to refuse Muraji.

“Big sister Fuji was giving me adding and subtracting lessons, and those are boring,” Ichi muttered. “Big sister Saki is still asleep. She had a client last night, and you know how she gets when she has to stay up all night.”

Ranmaru lowered his bokuto, letting out a sigh. Ichi’s innocent eyes were hard for him to say no to. 

“I’m not sure I can give you all the patience you deserve, but I’ll try,” Ranmaru said, taking a seat. 

Ichi lit up and hurried off to grab her various supplies. Ranmaru did his best to show her some new kanji to learn, which she watched diligently.

“Do they have to be drawn so rigidly? Or is that a difference for guy writing to girl writing? I’ve heard that there’s supposed to be a difference in some stuff,” Ichi asked.

“I... no. That’s more from my being a bit... alright, being quite stressed,” Ranmaru replied with a forced smile. “You can still write the same as you liked.”

“If you’re stressed out, can I do anything? I can go get you some tea? Oooh! Or place an order for deep fried tofu! I saw one of those tofu yokai hunting around for dropped change the other day, I’ll bet I can find one if I go looking!”

Ranmaru felt his smile grow a little less forced with Ichi’s enthusiasm. “I appreciate it, but this is something I have to work through, not run from.”

Ichi nodded. “Like Fuji’s arithmetic lessons.”

Ranmaru laughed despite himself and ruffled the girl’s hair. “A little bit like that. Well, you keep practising, and I’ll work on my shamisen playing. I’ll check on you in a bit.”

---

The smile Ichi brought only lasted until Ranmaru was left alone again with his thoughts. His doubts.

Tired from the day, he turned to his small collection of samurai poetry, hoping to gain some resolve from the words of warriors. Unfortunately, far too many of them were written on the thoughts of facing death, and lacked the optimism Ranmaru sought.

---

For breakfast, once again, he ate the rather boring option of buckwheat porridge while participating in Saki and Fuji’s gossip to the minimum he thought he could get away with.

At least until halfways through the meal, when Fuji slapped her chopsticks down to stare at him.

“I’ve heard enough to know that what happened wasn’t pleasant for you, but I don’t think you’re going to get over it just by ignoring half of who you are,” Fuji stated, her tone flat and cutting.

“Fuji, let him deal with this at his own pace,” Saki shot in, only to have Fuji raise her finger sharply.

“He’s not dealing, he’s denying,” she countered.

“I’m not denying,” Ranmaru said calmly. “I’m merely trying to deal with the issue as a man, as practice for my future. I will be getting my revenge as a man, rescuing Asa as one, then being her husband as one. It’s something I need to have more practice doing.”

“It’s an issue from your female side. You can’t just deny that side and coldly assess things as a man,” Fuji jabbed. 

“My memories don’t fade, Fuji,” Ranmaru shot back. “I feel a little insulated by this form, but I still... I still remember the feeling. It was his attitude that was the worst, anyhow. Treating me like something he could just buy if he wanted to. I swear his eyes have never held compassion.”

“I... if you’re still feeling everything, then why are you cutting us off?” Fuji asked. “We want to help you. To comfort you. You’re family, Ranmaru. You and Saki... you’re all I have left.”

“I’m leaving sooner or later anyway, isn’t it better we learn to spend time apart?”

“No! That’s more reason to be together, while we still can,” Fuji shouted, shaking as she returned to a properly seated position. “We... we’ve built something here, together. Despite the odds. I want to share that as long as we can.”

“The more I feel like I belong, the harder leaving will be when I have to do it,” Ranmaru said.

“I do hope you’ll write to us, when you can,” Saki said, her tone diplomatic. “I also remain certain that, whatever self doubt you’re feeling right now, you’ll make an excellent husband for Asa. You certainly understand women better than most men do.”

Ranmaru felt a strange mix of feelings well in him at that. It was true that his experience of walking in both worlds had its uses in any real relationship. He was sure that he and Kikunosuke wouldn’t have gotten so close without their time spent sparring together. He also had to admit that part of what drew him to Asa was his feminine side, so curious about her culture and so outraged by Muraji’s treatment of her. He wanted to think he’d be as outraged if he were only a man, but... it felt so much more personal having received a taste of those prejudices as a woman.

Could he tell himself that more recent events had simply built his empathy for her suffering? 

Still, he had to be a man for her. Scholars agreed, passion flowed from the fire in the hearts of men. If he was too much of a woman around Asa, that risked the interaction becoming little more energetic than the mixing of two ponds... Right?

With too much to think about, Ranmaru bid his farewell from the sisters and headed back to his apartment. The drive to push himself physically felt less urgent now, the need to sort out the new angle that had occurred to him proving a distraction.

Asa came from a society of only women, amongst distant mountains on the far edge of China. That was, really, all he knew. A society without the balance of energies Confucian scholars told the world any system needed. 

He’d reread the small portion of Journey to the West that had discussed the Women’s Kingdom, but... a work of fiction by an outsider was not a reliable means to learn about a society. What was based on false rumours, and what was made up wholesale, he couldn’t begin to know. 

All together, though, it begged the question of how Asa saw romance. Was it a concept amongst her people? Sneaking down from the mountains to find men in neighbouring villages to spend time with, a romance like he held with her now? Or would she only know men as someone to meet for the simple sake of having a child? He didn’t like the idea, but the possibility that even that was too much, and the women of the mountains purchased or stole young girls seemed not impossible.

He was sure Asa could not have done that. Her dark eyes sparkled with innocence, like the River of Heaven at midnight. 

It still all left the question of how Asa would understand marriage and living together. Perhaps his female side would prove essential to living in one house, at least at first. 

Or, perhaps, he was engaged in wishful thinking.

Ranmaru decided to force himself to think about something else for a bit, to prevent spinning in circles of baseless guesses. He called Ichi in, and got to work on further expanding her literacy, as the grey skies outside slowly turned into a downpour.

The winds began to pick up in the early afternoon, and the Yarite made orders for windows to be shut and locked. It seemed the first typhoon of the year had chosen today to strike. It was far from a severe one, but enough to guarantee customers would stay home. 

Ranmaru was on his way back from helping Saki close up her apartment when the talkative guard from early approached him.

“Yo, Mei.”

“Ah, hello... did you need anything?” Ranmaru replied, realising, somewhat nervously, he’d not actually learned the other man’s name. 

“Oh, no. I was hoping to invite you out with the guards. With no work right now, the Yarite’s decided to let most of us head out and have a party. You’ve been looking pretty glum, so I thought I’d invite you. Offer up a distraction and all that,” the man explained.

“Where would we be going?” Ranmaru asked, honestly a bit excited to be being invited out with the guards. He was certain he’d been lacking in male bonding options.

“Just one of the bars here in Yoshiwara. We guards can’t afford Oiran services, but there’s plenty of fun to be had in the neighbourhood all the same.”

“If there’s shouchuu, then I’ll be happy to come along,” Ranmaru replied.

“Trust me, the bar isn’t as nice as here, but it’s got pretty well anything you’d want. Even some imports of Chinese baijiu, plus lychee and grape wines,” the man replied.

“Now that does sound interesting. I’ll go make sure someone can watch Ichi for the night and then I’ll be right down.”