0.0 System

It was a festive evening in the Edo period.

The full moon lit up the starry sky with its brilliance. it's crevices as shadows put depth of it's circumference. Chinese lanterns are lit to give attention to the Red Light District. Petals of cherry blossoms flow with the gentle breeze.

In the streets of Yoshiwara, woman dressed in traditional kimono and wooden sandals called zori walk among the visitors that come their way. They hung on the arm of young men to attract them to visit their brothel. Some reveal their skin. Some were blessed with beautiful faces that are in no need to expose skin. Some are with wealth are adorn with lavish accessories that are recognized both outside and inside the district as a Oiran.

I was one of them. I otherwise known as a keisei. My face matched with my wit and talent in dancing, stitching and fine arts.

I was approached by a samurai with a chōmage. He wore kimono, hakama, and a sleeveless jacket with exaggerated shoulders called a kataginu. He wore a kabuto in his head and a katana buckled in the hem of his obi.

What happened to me was a mystery. I have yet to uncover.