She Will Be Loved

A/N: I was drunk and upset when I wrote this...it didn't turn out as bad as I thought it did...but it still sucks. It's supposed to be taken as a joke, so please don't be offended by it...


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Murasaki walked along the darkened street, her painted white face shining in the dim moonlight. She was a geisha, by trade, her beauty and grace renowned all throughout Japan. Geisha's were not common whores like the foreigners made them out to be; they were entertainers, only selling polite companionship. She pulled her kimono slightly, the autumn chill seeping through the layers. She was walking back from a brief shopping trip after a performance for some Americans at the Sakura Hotel.

There was a rather noisy bar up ahead, where various tourists often went. Murasaki herself avoided the place like the plague, the lowest of the low usually hung out there with the other tourists.

As she drew near, she heard several hoots and hollers coming from inside, but she ignored them. Suddenly, there was a tremendous crash and a young man dressed as a Lolita was thrown through the wall and out on to the street, landing at Murasaki's feet. His short black shirt had flipped up, revealing a black, lacy pair of panties, barely covering his generous manhood. Murasaki blushed, hiding behind her hand as the man stood up, embarrassed and apologizing profusely. He was kind of cute, for a guy in drag. He had silvery hair that was pulled into short, spiky pigtails, fair skin, and a pair of sleepy bedroom eyes. Murasaki blushed again and looked away, sidestepping the apologetic young man just as his assailants came outside.

"Hey...!" Murasaki flinched inwardly. It was a young, hot blooded American man. She sighed, her steps not faltering.

She heard the American and his friends throw a punch at the young man, who fell to the ground once again. The Americans then began to kick and punch the young man, shouting obscenities at him.

"Mother fucking fag! We'll teach you..."

Murasaki paused, glancing back as she watched the American guy turn the Lolita onto his face, ripping the lacy underwear off as he pulled his cock out of his pants.

Murasaki turned fully and watched in slow motion as the American forced himself into the Lolita, who screamed in agony as the American began to thrust without mercy.

Swallowing her pride to aid someone who was a common whore, Murasaki dropped her groceries to the ground, along with her dancing fans, and ran towards them, dropping into a fighting stance before using her aikido training to lash out at the guy's friends. She knew once she took them out, the American would be easy.

They tried a few stunt moves that perhaps they had seen in a movie or an anime, but it was no match for true skill, and soon, they were baking away, one clutching a broken arm and the other wiping a cut lip.

"Dude...It's psycho Geisha! It's like, she's a ninja, or something! Eli, leave that fag alone, let's get out of here!"

But Eli had other plans, ramming his hips faster into the Lolita as Murasaki turned on him, striking out with one slender hand, falling into a well-balanced position. The man came just as she did so, pulling out and standing up as Murasaki stuck out again, hitting him square in the hip. He moaned as if she'd punched him in the sac .

"Dude, my dad's a lawyer!" He moaned, backing away as Murasaki shifted slightly, readying for another strike. Soon, he was taking off after his friends, struggling to keep his pants up.

Murasaki turned her attention to the man on the ground, watching as cum oozed out of his abused hole. Now that she looked at him, he couldn't have been much older than thirteen or fourteen, and not that much younger than herself, being seventeen. He was trembling slightly, weeping pitifully. Murasaki knelt by his side, reaching out and touching that silver hair. It was as soft as it looked...

"do you need to go to the police, boy? Or the hospital?"

He shook his head, struggling to sit up as he wiped the tears from his face.

"My deepest apologies, I did not mean to inconvenience you!" He said, throwing himself on his face before her in an oddly elegant bow, though his butt was in the air and sticking out beneath the tiny, frilly skirt. Murasaki lifted her head in a slightly arrogant manner that some men found attractive.

"Get up, boy, stop being foolish." She said, standing up and adjusting her kimono's. He obeyed, still apologizing, making himself sound pathetic. People were staring and Murasaki knew immediately that she had lost serious face there. Damn that stupid boy...damn these common whores! They made it difficult for the true geisha to work, especially in tourist areas. She narrowed her eyes at the teen and brushed past him. If she lost customers now, it would be his fault.

Much to her dismay, he followed her as she stooped to pick up her groceries.

"Why are you following me?" She said, keeping her voice low and coy to hid her anger.

"I owe you my life..." He said, taking her groceries for her. She was tempted to strike him, but pity staid her hand.

"Do not approach me so familiarly..." She hissed, seizing her bags from him. He looked almost enchanting in the pale streetlights though currently he looked adorably crestfallen. She wondered if they had been in different professions in a different time, or met under different circumstances, if maybe they could have been something?

She sighed and dismissed the thought, turning away.

"Follow, if you must..."

"Thank you, mistress geisha..."

They continued on in silence, the boy following three paces behind her, watching her with those beautifully mismatched eyes. It wasn't long before Murasaki was home, opening the front gate and sliding the wooden doors open. She turned to the boy, who was standing outside the front gate, staring sadly after her.

"Well...are you coming?" She said, dropping her graceful demeanor and sliding off her shoes. He followed her, careful to shut the gate behind himself, sitting down on the porch and unlacing his shiny leather platforms and setting them next to her high wooden ones. It was a stark contrast, looking down at them, like the ancient ways of the island nation meeting the new ones...

He followed her into the house, his feet barely making a sound as he followed her through the house to the kitchen. He was much shorter with his shoes off, now about the same height as she was.

"Sit." She said, pointing at a low table, putting the groceries away and putting water atop the stove to heat for tea. She sat down opposite to him, eying him wearily. "Now tell me, boy, why are you following me?"

He looked down.

"I owe you my life, mistress..."

Murasaki sighed. "And?" She knew better than to trust anyone anymore... "Let me guess, you had no where else to go..."

"That's not true! There's always the host club..."

Murasaki raised a finely painted eyebrow. So this boy had been part of a host club? That explained his formal speech pattern and his good manners... She rose again, the boy watching her with a strange fascination as she poured the tea elegantly. She tested him slightly by pulling the hem of her sleeve back and exposing her slender wrist. He blushed and it was just as she expected.

"What is your name, boy?" She asked, warming up slightly as she poured his tea. He had the most adorable blush...

"Kakashi..."

Murasaki smiled flirtatiously over her teacup. "Kakashi-san...what made you chose to be a Lolita?"

He blushed deeper and looked down.

"I lost my job at the host club because one of the clients got intimate with me..."

"Oh? I thought you said you could go back?" She said. So had he been raped before? He was such a cutie...

"I could, but it would be hard...no one wants me there anymore."

Murasaki nodded politely, smiling again at him over her tea. There was silence, then he spoke up.

"Mistress, where did you learn to fight like that?"

Murasaki sighed and put her cup down. "Before I was a geisha, my father owned a martial arts school. His business partner betrayed him and he was forced to sell me to a geisha house."

Kakashi nodded politely. "How unfortunate..." He muttered quietly.

Murasaki smiled. "Not unfortunate! I became a geisha."

Kakashi's eyes widened slightly and he nodded solemnly. Murasaki set her teacup down and stood up.

"No...I mean...it's unfortunate I never learned your name, mistress."

Muraskai smiled. "My birth name is Murasaki...but my geisha name is Momoyama...I really prefer Murasaki."

"What a beautiful name..." He muttered, looking down at his hands.

"Come with me, Kakashi-san." She said brightly, sliding open doors throughout the house. "You can stay here tonight. It's far too late for you to be walking home alone..."

Kakashi nodded slightly following her. She opened the door to a bedroom, showing him inside. "You can leave when you want. There are more suitable clothes in the trunk." She said, pointing. He nodded, bowing politely.

"A thousand thanks for saving me!" He exclaimed. Now it was Murasaki's turn to blush as she watched the silvery pale globes of his ass peek from beneath his skirt again. He was well worth ogling, but it was improper, so she dismissed the thought.

"Stop acting like a fool..." She said, though somewhat warmer than she had before. Unable to control herself, She reached out and pulled his silver hair out of the annoying pigtails, watching it fluff out and get kind of spiky. He blushed, blinking at her and she smiled coyly , turning her back on him and disappearing across the hall into her own room. She removed her makeup and changed into a more casual kimono. She took her wig off, letting her brown hair fall down her back and stood up, sliding the door open just as Kakashi emerged. He looked like a legendary samurai in the blue kimono, his own makeup removed. He bowed when he saw her, and Murasaki smiled.

"I'm going to clean the kitchen up and go to bed. Like I said, you are free to come and go as you please..."

He nodded, following her quietly. "Since I helped dirty it, I might as well help clean it up..." He said, following her into the kitchen and helping her. It was nice having the extra help, not that the task was particularly hard, but since her sensei had died in a train accident, and she hadn't taken on an apprentice yet, it was nice just having someone else around in the big old house. An idea hit her, but she kept it to herself. If he was still around in the morning, perhaps then she would ask him...

They said goodnight and parted ways, but Murasaki found her mind wandering to the young man who was asleep in the next room. She wondered how it would feel to have him laying beside her at night...how that soft silver hair would feel beneath her fingers...what it could be if she weren't a geisha...

Slowly, Murasaki drifted off to sleep, staring at the ceiling. She awoke in the night to the sound of a door sliding open and sat up.

Kakashi must have left...

She felt her heart fill with sadness. She could have gotten used to having him around...perhaps for a little longer than just the one night...it felt as if a light in her life had died out. What were the chances of them meeting again?