As Kyou's delighted roar faded, he held the exasperated concubine against his chest and tenderly stroked her hair.  After a little while, he carefully rose and lay the girl down on the futon.  “Lie still a little,” he said, voice soft, but not too soft to be heard through the paper walls.<br/><br/>The young sparrow crossed their little room—massive manhood still languidly erect. Returning with a basin, they saw him gently wash the big busted concubine's sweaty, fatigue body.<br/><br/>What was he doing?  Didn't it lower him horribly?  For a samurai to show such nurturing kindness to a mere peasant?  (If she was even that, most concubines were slaves—or worse, eta.)<br/><br/>“Thank you for that, sweet Michiko-chan.  You've made me very happy.  I will make sure your lord and lady know how well you have pleased me.”<br/><br/>A few minutes later, Kyou—fully dressed and only smelling ever so faintly of passion, returned to the reception room.  This time, he took a seat next to Reiko.  He gave their hosts another bow.  “You're hospitality lifts my heart, honorable Butterflies.”<br/><br/>He took a jar of sake from the servants and poured it into Reiko's cup.  “Please forgive my boldness, Reiko-san.  I must confess, the thoughts that have crossed my mind since I first saw you lips—soft and pink as cherry blossoms—are highly inappropriate.  I would never impinge upon your honor by acting upon them, but perhaps I may at least see the sake I have poured grace them with the briefest of kisses.”