As the sun dipped below the horizon, Yoshiwara's red-light district surged to life with an energy far greater than during the day.
Countless lanterns flared to life, their brilliance swallowing the stars overhead.
Courtesans who had sold themselves to the brothels stood outside their establishments, calling out to passing customers. The men who came here were more than willing to spend their hard-earned money for a fleeting moment of pleasure.
Those with deeper pockets would summon geishas to attend them, flaunting their status. And if a man held enough influence and spent lavishly, he might even earn a glimpse of an oiran.
Even if he later regretted the impulse, the moment he laid eyes on an oiran, he would become the center of attention in Yoshiwara that night.
And if he went further. if he became one of her chosen patrons. he would remain a topic of conversation among regulars for days.
Anyone who came here without seeking pleasure would be the one truly looked down upon.
Today, however, Yoshiwara was livelier than ever.
Because tonight was the procession.
Towering, lavishly decorated floats rolled through the streets. Elegant geishas danced atop them, their movements graceful and refined. Yet even more captivating than the dancers was the procession walking ahead of the floats.
At the very front, two men carried lanterns, their expressions solemn as they cleared a path through the crowd.
Behind them followed several girls holding ceremonial items. They were beautifully dressed as well, but compared to the figure behind them, they were like stars around the moon. dim and easily overlooked.
Because that was one of Yoshiwara's oiran.
Though her face was obscured by her attendants, the faint curve of vivid red at the corners of her eyes and beneath her lips was enough to stir boundless imagination. Her heavy, ornate attire only deepened her mystique, adding a layer of untouchable nobility.
At this moment, countless eyes were fixed on her.
Which made the four figures watching from a street corner far less noticeable.
Their group stood out in this place. strange and conspicuous.
After all, who brought children along when visiting a red-light district?
And not just children, but two identical ones.
Though they weren't short and carried themselves with a certain steadiness, their youthful faces and the unconscious way they leaned toward the person beside them gave away their true age.
The adults with them didn't look particularly reliable either.
One had white hair and red eyes, striking and flamboyant. Nearly two meters tall, he drew glances wherever he went.
The last one was less eye-catching. Dressed in a light blue kimono, with medium-length tousled hair, his features were gentle. but the slight upward tilt of his eyes lent him a sharp, almost aggressive edge.
"What luck, running into an oiran procession," the white-haired man said with a grin. "Under these lights, it really does have a different kind of charm."
"But that outfit looks so inconvenient…" the younger-looking twin frowned. "Doesn't it get in the way?"
"Yeah, and the shoes and the way she walks are weird too," the other added, clearly unimpressed. "If someone tried to kill her, she wouldn't even have a chance to run, right?"
"That's the Courtesan's Step," the black-haired young man said, shifting his gaze from the float to the twins. As he turned, the braid at the back of his head came into view, the pale feather tied at the end swaying lightly. "They have to follow a specific inward or outward eight-step pattern. It's extremely difficult. Just learning that alone takes two or three years."
"And those guards aren't just decoration. If something happens, they'll protect the oiran with their lives."
"Eh." The white-haired man stroked his chin. "You sound a bit suspicious."
"…What?" The black-haired youth frowned. "Uzui, what nonsense are you talking about now?"
"I remember you saying you had no experience with this kind of thing." Uzui glanced at him. "Yet now you're analyzing it so smoothly. That's a little surprising…"
"That's because my brother and I used to come here just to watch the processions," he said with a light laugh. "Thinking about it now, each era has its own aesthetic, so every procession feels different."
"They've definitely gotten more beautiful over time. Yoshiwara really is a place for pleasure."
His gaze lingered on the retreating float, then shifted back.
"But Yuichiro, Muichiro. don't come here looking for women in the future."
"Why?" Muichiro looked up at him, studying his unfamiliar face. "Didn't you just say coming here for pleasure is normal, Hiru-nii?"
"It is. But there are no good women in Yoshiwara."
Hiru's smile remained easy, but his eyes followed the distant procession.
"They may look glamorous, but their lives are miserable."
"If they don't get customers, they're scolded. If they refuse clients, they're scolded. If the client isn't satisfied, they're still scolded. Even when they're sick, they're not allowed to rest. they still have to keep working."
"And the more clients they take, the more likely they are to catch all kinds of diseases."
"In this entire district, the only ones who can barely live like human beings are the oiran. But even they have countless patrons."
"Prostitution may not be illegal now, but I really don't understand why anyone would spend so much money and risk getting sick just to compete with other men for the same woman."
"With that kind of effort, you could find plenty of good women outside."
As he spoke, Hiru casually patted Uzui on the shoulder.
"And don't follow Uzui's example and keep multiple women. Times have changed. you'll get struck by divine punishment."
"Then why is Uzui-nii fine?"
"He's tough, and he's missing a screw." Hiru withdrew his hand and looked down at the twins. "Didn't you see? Even after I revealed my identity, he still dared to stick close to me."
Uzui: …Not a single kind word comes out of your family.
"Forget me. finding the demon is what matters right now." Uzui exhaled. "I've already had my wives prepare to infiltrate the three largest brothels in this district to gather information. We…"
"No need."
Hiru raised a hand, pointing in the direction the float had gone, a faint smile curling his lips.
"Just ask which house that oiran belongs to. That's the demon."
"Looks like my luck turned around after I revealed my identity… To find the target just by watching a procession. It's been a long time since things went this smoothly."
"Did something go really wrong for you before, Hiru-nii?"
"Of course. I've had a rough time."
"But no matter how rough it was, you didn't have to cry, right?" Uzui frowned in disdain. "That's not flashy at all."
Hiru froze.
Almost instinctively, he lifted a hand to his cheek.
Wet.
Only then did he realize.
He was crying.
"Huh? That's strange… why? I didn't mean to cry."
He wiped at his tears, but they only kept coming.
And then.
A crushing wave of sorrow surged up from deep within his chest.
It hit so violently that his insides twisted with dull pain. His throat felt like it was being strangled.
In that instant, everything around him seemed to fall away.
All that remained was that overwhelming grief. so intense it felt like it was eating away at his soul.
Hiru slowly lifted his head, staring into the distance.
Tears streamed endlessly down his face.
Yet his expression softened.
A faint smile curved his lips. one that carried both relief and sorrow, impossible to separate.
"Honestly… isn't this a little too easy on you?