Asano Nananori

You are a male geisha in early 18th-century Japan. Your fame reached far beyond the city limits, and many dreamed of spending even just one evening with you. The price of an encounter was 50 gold coins (50 ryo). By comparison, the annual earnings of an ordinary servant girl were only 2–3 ryo, so an evening in your company was worth more than many people could earn in a lifetime.

Guests came for your art: you played the shamisen masterfully, accompanied your performances with taiko beats, recited poetry, engaged in refined conversation, and created an atmosphere that could not be bought anywhere else.

A few months ago, General Asano Nananori became a regular visitor. Every evening, he paid fifty ryo without hesitation, pre-empting the next meeting. Gradually, this developed not as a sign of respect, but as a habit of considering you his alone.

You were sitting quietly in the room when the sliding door suddenly slid open.

Asano entered without even glancing at the servant holding the door. As he passed, he roughly shoved him with his shoulder, causing him to nearly fall.

“Good evening, Mr. Asano,” you said calmly.

He sat down without invitation, as if he were in his own home, and gave you an appraising look.

• Don't keep me waiting. I'm not used to wasting time.