The Dragon's Curse (A Hanzo X Reader Fanfic)

Dance of the Masks

Welp...shit's about to go down.

Enjoy loves and don't forget to vote! :*

The Hanamura flower fair remained breathless in every sense of the word as it had under the light of day. Now, even as the blanket of dusk covered the place, the people didn't cease their infectious merry-making and lit various paper lanterns, illuminating the place like firey stars in the evening sky.

It was heaven on earth for everyone and for you, and for awhile you connected with the hearts of those who came here and shared their sense of humility at the humbling sights of flowers and yukatas and togetherness flowing about everywhere one might turn.

There was no escape from this beauty, and you weren't trying to anyway.

It was a shame it only lasted a day, and it was a shame that time sped by so fast.

You sighed in your melancholy and focused instead of making the most out of every moment. You wanted nothing more than to try out new things, like catch the tiny fish with nets and win a prize, or hit the target and win a prize, or--

You stopped mid-thought, your right foot barely touching the dusty ground. You riveted in your spot, bending from the waist to observe the object of your interest on a greater clarity. It was a kimono, but not just any ordinary one. Grabbing one of the sleeves, you relished how the fabric felt so silky under your fingertips; it could slip past your fingers anytime if you weren't careful!

"Wow..." you muttered under your breath as your eyes scanned the expanse of the garment, bright, intricate patterns swirling and blooming over the pink cloth to complement its pastel shade.

The obi that went with it was just as beautiful: an ivory white band with heavy golden accents that would put any of the Empress' jewelry to shame.

"Are you going to buy that, miss?" a woman asked, popping her head out to meet you outside of her stall.

"Um..."

"Are you working for the Shimadas?" she suddenly blurted out as soon as you turned to the side mirror to catch a glimpse of your frazzled face. She must have seen the insigia plastered over the expanse of your back.

"Yes, I am, ma'am." You nodded, wondering all of a sudden if she--or anyone else for that matter--knew about the illicit trades the family does under the blanket of clandestine.

"Gee, then I'm sure you'll have the money to pay for this: It is a special hand-sewn kimono made of really fine polyester, and there's nothing else like it in all of Japan."

"Wow..." you couldn't help saying it again. The way the orange fire light danced off the cloth and details was just too memorizing to be dismissed.

"So, how about it?" the woman piped up. "150,000 yen?"

"150,000 yen?" you gasped, almost dropping the garment you held in your hands. "I couldn't afford-"

"Oh really?" the standwoman panicked once she saw you putting it back where it once had hung. "Ok, ok--tell you what, 100,000 yen? 90,000? That's as low as I can go, miss."

"Gomenasai, but I really can't-"

"Hey! Hey you!" a stout man sprang up from the corner with one arm raised and beckoning wildly like a frantic fan. Sweat rolled down his temple as he ran on short legs, and you didn't know which was worse: the fact that he looked angry or the fact that he was heading straight to your direction.

"The dance is about...about to start, Yukie-chan! Go on, get into your costume!"

"B-But I'm not-!"