I was doodling (I’ve been doing that a lot recently – I’m trying to fill up one of my books so I feel ready to switch to a better one), and I came up with an interesting picture. So I redid it on the computer, all the while coming up with a story to go behind it. It was interesting. And yay, I got to work with some flat color again! (I don’t usually do the flat thing)
So, the story goes:
Once their was a geisha, little-known, the last of her house in a once-grand town turned ragged. She was young, but beautiful and poised. While she was not rich, she had a strong heart, and every day would use her petty earnings to feed the children of the town who had no family to return to. At first the children distrusted her, but over time would come willingly to her house in search for her care. They learned how to do many things, and eventually she would find homes for them, houses within which they could be accepted as servants.
During these times, the other children would be sad for the loss of their friend, but the geisha would look down at them and smile, and say “Do not be sad, for they are going to a place where there is little hardship. They will be well cared for there.” And so the children would repress their sadness and send their friends off with a smile and a small party.
Of these children there was one that said nothing to the geisha. He was a loner, often disappearing for times and coming back scraped and bruised from fighting with others older than him. He would come to her place and take her food without thanks, take the clothes she provided and leave, and refused to speak to any of the other children. The geisha noticed him, but did not press, for the moment she tried she knew he would leave and not return to her. Yet over time, he stayed near her house longer, stopped disappearing, and eventually came to love her as a mother, despite never once saying anything to her.
At that time, the other children wished to do something for the geisha, for all the good she had done for them. The silent boy heard them speak so, and thus gathered them up and sent them out to places he had been, spreading the word of the little-known geisha into other nearby towns and into the better villages. Slowly her business picked up, and for the first time she was able to provide for them all without struggling. This was a good time.
Eventually news of her reached the ears of a nearby lord, and he came to visit her. Not long after that, she received a letter from him, inviting her to his house to serve as his personal geisha. She looked at the letter, which signified an end to ever having to worry about money, then around her at the children she cared for. She told them of the letter, expecting protests. Instead, they gathered together as much as they could and held her a party. She looked around at their smiling faces and thought, “They are happy for me. They wish me to go; how can I not?” So she packed her things and bought a ticket for the ferry to cross the river.
As she started to cross the plank, a small hand reached from the crowd and grabbed ahold of her sleeve. The boy, the one who had been so silent before, said to her the first words he had ever spoken in her presence:
“Don’t go.”
