A couple days later, Ranka received a letter from Muraji, confirming he’d departed for Nagasaki, and would be taking his fleet south from there, expecting to spend 3 months on the trip. She burned the letter as soon as she’d read it, and got some satisfaction from that. 

The hard time limit to find an escape was set. Unfortunately, she was also coming to realise her odds of getting her contract purchased were growing rather slim. She’d had one customer in the days between Muraji’s departure and his letter, and her efforts to subtly float an interest in freedom from Yoshiwara fell on deaf ears. Growing anxious, she once more threw herself into kenjutsu practice, though it was more about burning off energy than re-embracing her masculinity. 

She was midway through a kata when a shinzou girl slipped into her apartment.

“Miss Mei, I have come to inform you that Master Akado has booked a visit for tonight,” the girl said.

Ranka nodded, wiping a bit of sweat from her brow. “I suppose I should get changed then?”

“Ah, well, in clothing, yes. Master Akado said he wished to take another attempt at romancing your other side, however,” the servant girl replied.

“Oh. Very well. Will I be dressing fully, or finding something more casual like he prefers for my other form?” Ranka asked as she put her bokuto away.

“I... I am unsure. He did not specify.”

“Hmm,” Ranka muttered, thinking the options over. It was easier to remove layers than to add them, but... it was probably best to continue easing Tousui into things. “With his tastes, casual is probably best.”

“I will trust your judgement, miss.”

It didn’t take long to prepare for Tousui’s more martial tastes, even if Ranka felt odd dressing so masculine for her female form. There had been a fair bit of finangling to match the style with the different cut of her clothing, but they managed it in the end. Ranka also ruled against the white base powder, going only with the red highlights, sure that her natural skin tone might help balance her femininity for Tousui.

The young samurai in question arrived not too long after the set up was finished, a little tardy as he tended to be. When he saw Ranka he froze for a moment.

“That’s... that’s a different look.”

“I thought I would try something masculine still, to put you at ease,” Ranka replied.

Tousui nodded as he sat down at the small dinner table provided. Ranka began to play her koto, while Tousui ate. He seemed nervous as he worked away at the meal, though Ranka supposed that was to be expected.

Once he finished the meal, however, the topic he brought up was not what Ranka had expected.

“Before we... well, try things again, I was wondering if we could discuss some matters of poetry?” 

“We usually do, so, of course?” Ranka replied.

“Ah, the thing is... I don’t actually have any poems to read today. I’ve had a bit of writer’s block. I’m not sure if it’s from my father’s pressure that I need to get hunting for a bride or a more general block,” Tousui said. “I’m curious if you have any advice?”

“I’m not sure I’m the best person to ask,” Ranka replied. “My own poems have generally been structurally sound, but not the most inspired. It’s tricky to hunt out new inspiration when leaving Yoshiwara involves so much negotiation.”

“It must be wonderful, though. If you have written it, the poetry must reflect your creative skills,” Tousui declared. “I simply must read them now, to see how remarkably modest you’re being!”

“Well, if you insist,” Ranka softly replied, heading to fetch her small booklet of poems. 

Tousui’s eyes glinted like a child awaiting his New Year’s gift as she brought it over. Once the book was opened, he switched to a firmly serious face, nodding in a scholastic manner as he read things over. His facial expressions were almost comedic in their seriousness, as if he were reading the secrets of life. At least until he got towards the end, when an oddly planicked look flared in his eyes for the last few pages. 

“Who is he?” Tousui asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper, sounding in shock.

“Pardon?”

“The man who’s inspired these poems,” the tall samurai repeated.

“There’s... there’s no man?” Ranka replied, perhaps a little too sharply.

“I can tell from the consistent handwriting and ink colours that these last few pages have been written in quick succession. Clearly someone has set your heart alight with passion,” Tousui countered. “Writing poetry may not be my strength, but I read enough of it to spot a motivated writer.”

He filled with more energy as he returned to reading more. Ranka wasn’t sure what mood it was that was building in him, or how to calm him down. Denying him more reading would confirm his beliefs, but letting him continue also seemed a mistake. She silently cursed herself for having been so casual as to write poems inspired by Asa while struggling to work out a solution.

Then Tousui gasped and dropped the book, eyes glazing over a moment as he seemed to release whatever was building within him.

“What a fool I was,” Tousui muttered.

“Uh?” Was the best Ranka could manage, feeling herself furiously confused. She knew Tousui got enthusiastic about things, but this was an extra level of dramatics.

“Rosy cheeks, like rosy lips. Something so important in poems of women,” Tousui explained in a barely audible volume.

Ranka blinked. That poem had been about cheeks, not lips.

Nodding sagely once again, Tousui then turned back to her. “That’s certainly a relief. A man would be someone to compete against, but a woman... that’s a whole different game.”

Ranka felt panic in her gut, worrying about Tousui’s ability to keep a secret. Even if he seemed strangely at peace with the idea himself.

“Does she work at this ageya? Or in another house? Perhaps a less respected portion of Yoshiwara?” Tousui asked, his voice quiet now.

The last thing she needed was Tousui poking around to try and find someone in the area. So, with panic in her voice, Ranka sharply replied, “She’s not in Yoshiwara.”

“Oh! That’s—wait. The fear in your voice,” Tousui said, realisation dawning in his eyes. “Don’t worry! I remember the rules for an Oiran. I will not tell anyone of your feelings, on the pain of my life... no, not just that. I shall write in my will that my father must buy your freedom as well should I let anything slip!”

“R-really?” was all Ranka could mutter, surprised to see Tousui so understanding. And, perhaps a little concerned about his enthusiasm.

“Yes. With my full sincerity,” Tousui replied, sliding into a deep prostrating bow.

Ranka let out a sigh of relief. “I was terrified you might not know how dangerous this was.”

“I have read the stories of poets and other desperate men hunting for money to free their beloveds. And the tragedy of those who have been caught. I understand the severity, here, where your heart is as dangerous as any battlefield,” Tousui explained, his voice serious. “I will also support your efforts. After all, your finding how to love a woman may lead to you having tips for me.”

The last bit was said with a smile and a lighter tone. 

Her heart calmed, Ranka smiled back. She was glad to have Tousui on her side. Perhaps mature or wise were not the best terms to describe him, but he had a kind heart. 

“If you could talk your father into buying me my freedom up front, that would certainly solve my problems,” Ranka replied, a slightly forced grin on her face. She was rather certain it wouldn’t happen, but hoped there was no harm in asking.

Tousui shook his head. “If it were in my will and a matter of family honour, or if I had promised to marry the oiran released, he would surely accept the fee, but... just to assist a friend, it’s rather a large sum. I could try asking some friends of mine though. I wouldn’t hold your breath, but it’s worth seeing what we could manage?”

Ranka, overcome, rushed ahead and hugged the tall samurai. “Thank you, Tousui.”

Gingerly, Tousui returned the hug. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

“You’re a good friend, though. Of any of my clients, you're the only one I truly count as a friend,” Ranka replied, looking up at his nervous eyes.

Their eyes locked for a moment, Ranka wanting to convey her genuine gratitude. Tousui then closed his eyes, his lips moving slightly towards a puckering, before turning bright red and looking away.

“I’m sorry. That expectation was inappropriate, with your being in love,” he mumbled. “Let’s... Let us discuss matters of poetry more. A much safer topic.”

Ranka smiled and nodded, heading off to pull out her various volumes of poetry. The pair discussed the styles of various poets for a couple of hours, until it became clear Tousui’s mind was wandering.

“You have something you want to say. What is it?” Ranka asked.

Tousui blushed, stammering on his words at first. “What... what is she like? This woman who’s so caught your eye?”

“Oh... well... I’m not sure what I can say. She’s... well, she’s officially taken as a wife, or, perhaps, more of a concubine, by a man already. She’s very unhappy however, I can assure you that. I’m not just planning to steal her because I like her looks or anything,” Ranka replied.

Tousui nodded, before laughing. “It’s an interesting contrast to your employment. I can only imagine how many wives complain about their husbands spending time with you, and yet, you want to spend time with some man’s wife.”

Ranka found herself grimacing, as Tousui’s innocent comment brought up unpleasant memories of her complicated situation.

The young samurai was, however, in his own little world as an idea appeared in his head. “I just remembered, due to the way our relationship has worked before, that the Yarite gave me permission to bring you out from Yoshiwara if I booked ahead. Would that make visiting your love easier?”

“That... that would certainly make things simpler. I’ve been straining my excuses already,” Ranka said. 

“Huzzah! Then an appointment I shall make!” Tousui declared, hopping to his feet and scrambling out from the apartment.

Ranka watched in confusion for a moment, not having expected him to run off immediately.

---

The Yarite had agreed to Tousui’s request to take Ranmaru out into Edo the next day. He insisted he’d bragged about Ranmaru’s kenjutsu abilities to a friend, and that said friend had wanted to spar. 

That problem solved, the next problem was Ranka convincing Tousui they could share a futon for the night. It was only her pointing out that her current female state meant she knew he’d have no desires that led to his reluctantly agreeing. 

Breakfast proved interesting, both Fuji and Ichi a bit suspicious of the barely known man in their midsts, while Saki was quite happy to have him around again. His innocence and refined table manners had apparently won her over last time, and helped to calm the other two as the meal went on. By the end, Tousui was sharing his own gossip with Saki and Fuji and the trio seemed to be quite enjoying themselves.

Ranmaru had watched quietly, enjoying his own rice. His mind was a flutter with thoughts of Asa, and the small talk at breakfast could only hold so much of his attention.

---

Tousui had accompanied Ranmaru out of Yoshiwara, at which point the pair headed to a small tea house. Tousui promised to wait there for Ranmaru’s return, so that he would know less of the woman Ranmaru was sneaking off to see. The Oiran thanked him and set off, heart racing.

It was only as he finally spotted that familiar tree that a terrifying thought struck him: what if Muraji had taken Asa with him on the trip? Wanting to keep her close?

Fear gripping hold, Ranmaru rushed up into the tree to check the yard. He found it empty, though he supposed that only meant so much.

Heart pounding, he slipped down from the tree and snuck across the yard towards the house. The house remained quiet, which did encourage him towards boldness in checking for any open doors, even if it didn’t fill him with hope.

Slinking around a corner, he found a single door open and slipped over to it. Poking his head around slowly, his heart quickened at the sight of Asa sitting alone in a small tea room. She was staring down at something on the table, and looked rather less than impressed by whatever it was.

It was a testament to her beauty that, even carrying a look of disdain, she looked like she’d descended from the heavens.

Ranmaru leaned in just a little more, curious to see what had Asa so unimpressed, and struggled not to laugh when he saw it was one of those guitars. It seemed that Muraji, for all his bragging about being cultured, was distinctly lacking in creativity. 

“Asa,” he called out, in a sharp whisper.

She turned his way, a smile lighting up her face. “Ranmaru!”

With that, she hurried out into the yard, the pair heading off to the shade of the tree again.

“I have good news. Muraji has left. Sailing south,” Asa said.

Ranmaru nodded. “I heard.”

“You heard? How?” Asa asked, before an idea seemed to hit her. “Yes, your friend. He is busy-ness partner of Muraji.”

“Business. Business partner,” Ranmaru corrected.

“Oh. Business, yes,” Asa replied, nodding. 

“My friend wasn’t my source though. It was where I work... that is a long story though,” Ranmaru replied, shivering a little at the memories. He shook his head, not wanting to let that get in the way of the time he was spending with Asa. “I also need to find a way out of where I am before he gets back, so that I can get you out of here. When his expedition ends I... my work will change.”

Asa grabbed onto his hand, stroking his palm lightly with her thumb. “Please, keep yourself safe. I... I like you. I want you happy.”

“I wasn’t happy where I was before I saw you. Seeing your smile, though... that’s worth any danger to me,” Ranmaru replied. 

Asa pulled him into a hug, one filled with force and determination. “You are... you are my last reason to smile.”

“You smiled when we first met?” Ranmaru asked.

Asa nodded thoughtfully. “Something said trust you. Maybe we know each other from... from... how to say. Before. Very before.”

“A past life?”

He watched as Asa processed the words, before nodding. “I think that is the words, yes. Was something that said you are different. I can... trust.”

Ranmaru felt uncertainty waft over him. He suspected it may have been his nature, walking in both worlds, that helped her feel more comfortable with him, but... there were so many simple things hard to explain to her. Something like that, which he could not easily prove without complications, seemed impossible just yet.

So, instead he set back to work on teaching her what he could. She had clearly been paying quite a lot of attention on her own now. Asa confessed that she’d been largely ignoring the language before, as the only conversation she got was Muraji talking at her. With a reason to learn Japanese, however, she’d been trying her best. The guards didn’t talk much, and Muraji loved to use big words she struggled to follow, but the cook and gardener she’d had some luck with. The cook mostly stuck to explaining recipes, which Muraji agreed was important for Asa to learn, if the cook were ill or otherwise away. The gardener, however, was quite talkative, even if his favourite conversation was complaining. He apparently had nothing good to say about his wife, his children, his neighbours, or the various plants in the garden. All in all, a boring man, but a source of new vocabulary and grammar practice, at least.

He was so caught up in Asa’s smiles, whenever she felt she’d mastered a new concept, that Ranmaru completely lost track of time. It was only the calling of a guard for Asa to head in for her afternoon meal that brought Ranmaru out from the daze.

“I will get you out of here,” Ranmaru whispered.

“I trust you,” Asa replied, before leaning in.

Her lips were soft. They touched Ranmaru’s for only a moment, before she had to run off, but it was all he could have asked for. He sat motionless behind the tree, lost in the brief moment, as he heard Asa explain to the guard that she was appeasing the tree so that it would not turn evil.

She was more than he deserved.