Wrapped love

For my love.

" I've learnt to love,

Blinded by your beauty.

But I've learnt to hate,

Blinded by words,

Which yours were untrue.

And I collapsed limp,

Beneath the view,

Of the mountain,

Where our love grew.

The flames burned my soul

As I remember your eyes.

It stung hearing the waves...

And the coolness of life.

I cannot wish you goodbye,

As hatred rooted deep in me,

Only my corpse has died,

Along with my will to live.

I left you in the cold,

I bathed you in arrogance,

I left you to die,

In the embrace of my cowardness.

Your eyes are now closed,

Missing the light,

Never missing me,

Nor my sight."

I was suffocated by hatred for the one I was supposed to love. And I fell for such lies, spoken by such soft lips. And I still suffer in my own abyss.

But my love wasn't like any other, it was only meant for you. Not anymore, I do not love corpses.

I learnt your name only when I broke into your own house.

Amai Uso.

Sweet sounding name. Beautiful name for such a beautiful woman... Only to be a liar.

You didn't love me, you saw me as the worst thing known to mankind. Describing me as the devil himself. I hope you get punished cruelly. Because death won't escape you from my scourging hatred towards you, Amai.

Hate. Always. Remains.

January 26th 1859

"He said he loved me. But I cannot unsee his superiority... he once hit me, and I became afraid. So afraid, that I never dared to reveal not loving him. He seemed to hate me more than love me. His remarks always seemed on the contrary."

January 3rd 1858

"How do I explain this feeling? I feel disgusted in my own body... In my own flesh... I feel like I'm rotting.

Working at the Okiya was never my choice, but performing was all I knew. And it brought me the money I needed.

I remember, one day in April, two years ago, an older man, not younger than 53 stepped in our building. He was tired, but I was assigned to take care of him. I brought him alcohol, suggested intimate acts... none made it up for him. So I asked him, specifically, what he'd like. In which he told me he was sick, and needed a caretaker. Age was getting the best of him. He developed a lung illness at the age of 50 and couldn't support himself alone anymore. Thinking about the amount of money I would make, I accepted. I sold my old, small house and moved in with the man. That's where I found out about his mother. She was my foster teacher, from my teenage years. She taught me how to play an instrument called the shamisen and how to dance gracefully. She taught me how to sing.

We both remembered the woman in awe.

Taking care of the man wasn't that hard, I enjoyed his presence and he seemed to take a liking to me. Fortunately, not a lustful one. I started seeing him as a father. He taught me how to read and write, something a little amount of women knew how to do. He let me borrow books and study them. I was grateful for all he's done.

One night, he started coughing badly. He threw up blood and felt sick for weeks afterwards. Not even doctors knew what to prescribe.

Though, I worked harder in order to get some medication. Perhaps not for his affected lungs, but for his high fevers.

Working like that made me forget I was a human being. Only a performance for men. That's when I realised, that from a young age, I was still being taught for entertaining men. My hope slowly crumbled, falling in a deep state of melancholy... and dare I say... anger.

Did my body really make up the worth of my actual life?"

December 4th 1858

"I met a man. He seemed kind, not any lustful intentions.. yet. I cannot trust him yet. He told me he wanted to hear me playing the shamisen, but I'm still considering it. It's not everyday I show people my one and only skill.

He talked funny. I think he was nervous"

December 25th 1858

"I made a fool of myself! I came drunk from a party at the inn he stayed at!.. I feel so embarrassed only imagining it!.... And I bawled my eyes out and I told him why I suffered... only to be denied... but.. he told me he loved me... and he touched me, so gently, my cheek redden. It was like a kiss. I never liked kisses, because I knew people didn't love me... but he... he managed to... make it sound real. I'm still upset with myself."

December 26th 1858

"We went skiing together, but he started being rude. He told me I was only a show off... but I really wanted to help him learn."

January 3rd 1859

"I feel like someone is always watching me... I always see a form in the shadows. I'm sure with this belief of mine, even if I am a dumb woman... I can see the eyes burning into the back of my head, when I'm not looking. It scares me, truly. And in addition, I feel like I'm behaving oddly. My mind's a mess... and all I see is a chaotic mess."

January 11th 1859

"I think I'm realising something. He doesn't love me anymore. I think he never did. He acts like a superintendent being, when he was the one who was afraid of people and their lies. And as a fool, I tried to be kind to him. Was I too kind? But that's just myself. He described me as mesmerising... gorgeous... beautiful... pretty... innocent looking. But did he ever look behind my eyes?"

January 22nd 1859

"I think my life's ending with his. He told me he loved me again and I told him I was getting sick of living. And with his sweet words... he finally asked me if I wanted to die with him. Hesitantly, I agreed. The big day was going to take place somewhere in February. He told me it was his favourite month. He remembered that was the month he was gifted a pet. A little puppy that ended up dying in the same month, one year later. He told me he didn't shed a tear, because he was too emotionless to care. He scares me. His words do as well. I don't know why I should trust or shouldn't. His words sometimes seem so loving"

February 8th 1859

"This evening resembles my life. I'm not choosing to be some dead puppy he owned. But he sure does act like I'm only his property.

Today, all my suffering and sorrows shall end, and my frail body shall rest. My eyes will close forever and I will fall into a deep slumber. Unawakened I will remain. Please, don't let them all forget me. I was good. I was really good... I hope I will be missed... And I hope I won't be forgotten"

Amai. I burned down your house. I killed the old man. I found all your secrets.

And I found out your name. I still find it amusing that I never asked for your name. I still wonder how that thought never crossed my mind. But don't worry, you will not be forgotten. My hatred will always remain alongside you. It will curse your spirit and destroy your sight. Until you'll come begging. But I'm talking as if you are still alive. Poor puppy, dead. Suffocated by water. I hope you still feel the freezing temperatures seep into you. With love, Shūuji Aoyama. For my one and only, Amai.