The Iris Fan

by Laura Joh Rowland

  Reiko read, I did not stab the shogun. I was asleep in bed when it happened. My lady-in-waiting can vouch for me. I had no reason to want him dead. I am innocent.

  “Take it to your husband. Then you can go home and have a good cry.”

  Hating herself because that was what she wanted to do, insulted because Lady Nobuko thought Sano would be stupid enough to accept this statement, Reiko said, “Your lady-in-waiting would say anything you ordered.”

  “Nevertheless, she is my witness.” Lady Nobuko radiated complacency. “You don’t have a witness to prove I wasn’t asleep when my husband was stabbed. Now get out.”

  She was obviously not going to give Reiko any evidence against herself or Lord Ienobu. Reiko had failed. Longing to escape before she completely broke down, Reiko said, “First I’ll search your quarters.”

  “You will not.” Bracing herself on the table, Lady Nobuko stood up. Her skeletal body leaned toward the distorted side of her angry face, as if the pain were an unbalancing weight.

  “If you won’t let me, it must mean you have something to hide.” Reiko resorted to a threat that was stronger than her own power of persuasion. “My husband will tell the shogun.”

  Lady Nobuko gave an exasperated, conceding sigh.

  * * *

  AT EDO CASTLE, Sano on his horse, accompanied by Yoshisato and the gangsters on foot, marched up to the main gate. The sentries said to Sano, “You can come in. They can’t.”

  “This is the shogun’s son,” Sano said.

  The sentries laughed; they thought Sano was joking. Yoshisato said, “Bow down! Show some respect!” The sound of his voice choked off their laughter. They stared at him with shocked recognition.

  “But—but you’re dead,” one said.

  “Obviously not,” Yoshisato said.

  The sentries fell over themselves in their rush to open the gate and spread the news. Sano dismounted and walked Yoshisato and the gangsters up the hill, through the stone-walled passages inside Edo Castle. An uproar followed them. Patrol guards shouted, “Yoshisato is back!” Curious faces peered from watchtowers. Running footsteps echoed as people flocked to see the shogun’s resurrected son. Officials poured out of their quarter, blocked the passage, and craned their necks.

  Plowing through the crowd, Sano and Yoshisato hurried to deliver the news to the shogun before anyone else could. At the palace Sano rushed Yoshisato past the sentries and in through the door. “Wait outside,” Yoshisato called to his gangsters.

  Sano and Yoshisato raced through corridors, past gawking officials and servants. Yoshisato strode into the shogun’s bedchamber, then Sano did. The shogun was asleep, his eyes closed in his pale, damp face. A soldier knelt near each side of the bed, the doctor at the end. Along the wall, Yanagisawa and Lord Ienobu sat with Captain Hosono between them. Everybody except the shogun looked up in surprise.

  “Mind if I join you?” Yoshisato said.

  The shogun’s eyelids fluttered. Everybody else stared at Yoshisato and reared up on their knees. Yanagisawa slumped forward. His right hand braced him against the floor. His left hand clutched his heart. Lord Ienobu’s eyes bulged.

  “You weren’t expecting me, were you?” Yoshisato directed his question at Yanagisawa and Ienobu, who’d known all along that he was alive.

  Mouth open, Yanagisawa wheezed. Lord Ienobu coiled into himself like a snake trying to hide under a rock. The shogun opened bloodshot, sunken eyes. He gasped, propped himself up on his elbow, and said in a voice filled with awe, “Yoshisato? My son?”

  Yoshisato moved toward the shogun. “Yes, Honorable Father, it’s me.”

  “Am I dreaming?” The shogun blenched with sudden fear; he raised his hand to stop Yoshisato. “Are you a ghost?”

  “No, Honorable Father.” Yoshisato knelt and took the shogun’s hand in his. Sano had told him the shogun had measles, but he appeared unconcerned about catching it. “You can feel that I’m real.”

  The shogun pressed his nose and mouth to Yoshisato’s hand as if to inhale Yoshisato, devour him. “You are! The gods have brought you back to life!” He sobbed in ecstasy, then convulsed with pain and moaned.

  Lord Ienobu and Yanagisawa watched, dumbstruck. Yoshisato smiled, gratified by the drama he’d created. A woman burst into the room. She had disheveled, graying hair and a sallow complexion; her soiled gray kimono hung on her emaciated figure; she smelled stale, fetid. She cried, “I heard the news. I had to come and find out, is it true? Is Yoshisato alive?” Her hollow eyes spied Yoshisato. She screamed, pushed the shogun away, and flung herself on the young man, then caressed his face while she keened, “Yoshisato! Yoshisato!” and wept.

  Yoshisato held her. “Mother.” His voice trembled; his eyes glistened.

  It was a scene that Sano wouldn’t have missed for the world. It was a scene that nobody here would ever forget.

  “Mother, I have business to discuss with these people.” Yoshisato had his emotions under control again. “Go home and wait for me.”

  She stumbled out, weeping with joy. The bewildered shogun studied Yoshisato. “Where have you been all this time?” Noticing Yoshisato’s tattoos, he gasped. “Why are you so changed?”

  “I’m glad you asked,” Yoshisato said. “It’s time you learned the truth about my so-called death.”

  As he told his story, Sano watched Yanagisawa and Lord Ienobu. Yanagisawa’s face darkened with anger as he heard how Yoshisato had been drugged, kidnapped, and imprisoned. Ienobu’s protuberant eyes skittered, chasing frantic thoughts.

  “He let everyone think I was dead.” Yoshisato pointed at Lord Ienobu. “He wanted me out of the way so that he could be the next shogun.”

  The shogun collapsed back on the bed. His horrified stare turned on Ienobu. “Is this true, Nephew?”

  “It certainly is not.” Ienobu regained his haughty poise. His eyes were steady now, brimming with scorn. “Yoshisato is lying.”

  “Of course you would deny it, to save your own ugly skin,” Yoshisato retorted.

  Waving his frail hand to interrupt the argument, the shogun said to Ienobu, “If he’s lying, then how do you account for the extra corpse in the fire? How do you explain the fact that my son is alive?”

  “The corpse must have been a servant who was in the heir’s residence when the fire started. Yoshisato is responsible for his own absence. He didn’t want to be the next dictator. He has no stomach for politics.” Ienobu’s contemptuous glance called Yoshisato a coward. “When the fire started, he saw his chance. He ran away.”

  Yoshisato uttered a shout of disdainful laughter. The shogun demanded, “If Yoshisato doesn’t want to inherit the regime, then why did he come back?”

  Perspiration beaded Ienobu’s forehead, but he sat his ground. “Because starting a new life isn’t easy. He decided that being shogun would be nicer than being a gangster.”

  “I have to admire you, Lord Ienobu—you think fast on your feet,” Yoshisato said with a pitying smile. “But I have a witness to prove I’m telling the truth.” He looked to Yanagisawa.

  * * *

  YANAGISAWA STILL COULDN’T believe that after he’d searched for Yoshisato for so long, Yoshisato had just strolled into the palace. He felt as if the sun had come out after an endless night. Yoshisato glowed so dazzlingly that Yanagisawa could barely see the other people in the room. Even Sano, the blight on his existence, was a mere shadow. Yanagisawa wanted to feast on the sight of Yoshisato, but if he looked directly at him, he would break down and blubber; his heart overflowed with so much love for Yoshisato, so much joy.

  How he regretted that they’d parted on bad terms! He’d let Yoshisato go away thinking he was nothing to Yanagisawa except a political pawn. Now Yanagisawa could tell Yoshisato how he felt. But not yet. Later he could marvel at Yoshisato’s miraculous return. Later he would find out what in the world Yoshisato and Sano were doing together. This was his long-awaited chance to send Lord Ienobu to hell.

  Engorged with vengefulness, Yanagisawa ro
se. Ienobu looked like a snake cornered by a man with an axe. “A few days after the fire, you came to me and told me Yoshisato was alive.” Yanagisawa’s voice was clear, resonant, and loud with the anger that had reopened the airway constricted by shock. “You showed me the letter you made him write to me.”

  He felt a sensation like a tight iron band around his chest snapping loose. “My silence and cooperation were the price you put on Yoshisato’s life.” To speak freely again was an exhilarating relief. “You said that unless I helped you become the next shogun, you would kill Yoshisato. But now I don’t have to do any more of your dirty work. I don’t have to keep quiet.” Yanagisawa told the shogun, “Lord Ienobu duped you. He tried to take over the regime by kidnapping your son and holding him hostage. He’s a traitor! He should be put to death!”

  Anger encroached on the confusion on the shogun’s face. Yanagisawa had planted a seed of suspicion in him, and it had taken root.

  Lord Ienobu stood up on his rickety legs. “Yanagisawa-san is lying! There was no letter, no such conversation. Here’s what really happened, Uncle: After the fire, he came to me. He was terrified that with Yoshisato dead, he would lose his position at court. He begged me to let him work for me so that he wouldn’t become a rōnin and starve!”

  “Look at him,” Yanagisawa jeered. “See him shaking. Do you want to know why he’s so afraid?”

  The shogun nodded, rapt with attention. Here Yanagisawa had the advantage over Lord Ienobu: Yanagisawa had controlled the shogun for almost three decades; the shogun had been under Ienobu’s influence for a fraction of that time. The shogun raised a hand to prevent Ienobu from speaking. Now Yanagisawa had to make the most of his advantage. There had never been a situation like this; it was an unfamiliar battleground in fast-moving flux. All his instincts, honed by a lifetime in politics, told Yanagisawa that persuading the shogun that Ienobu had kidnapped Yoshisato wouldn’t carry the day. The shogun had limited concern for other people. Yanagisawa had to exploit the shogun’s selfishness in order to stick it to Lord Ienobu.

  “Lord Ienobu is afraid because what’s happened today proves he’s responsible for the attack on Your Excellency,” Yanagisawa said. “He knew that Yoshisato was alive and on the loose and if Yoshisato returned to court, he would take back his place as your heir. There were two ways for Lord Ienobu to prevent that. He had to find Yoshisato and kill him—or to make sure you died and he became shogun before Yoshisato showed up.” Yanagisawa held up his thumb, then his forefinger. “But he couldn’t find Yoshisato.” Yanagisawa folded down his thumb. “So he chose option number two.” He pointed his forefinger at Ienobu, who was jittering so hard that the floor shook. “He sent an assassin to murder you, Your Excellency.”

  The shogun sat up, panting. “Yanagisawa-san is right!” His red, tearful eyes blazed at Ienobu. “You tried to have me killed so that you could rule Japan!”

  Yanagisawa tasted victory coming, so sweet after years of humiliation from Ienobu.

  “I didn’t!” Terrified, Ienobu extended his clasped hands to the shogun. “Please, Uncle, believe me!”

  To cap his argument, Yanagisawa said, “If the assassin had succeeded, you would be dead now, Your Excellency. Ienobu would be shogun. And if your son ever surfaced, Ienobu would slaughter him like a lamb.”

  “Traitor!” the shogun screamed at Ienobu. Spasms gripped him; he moaned. “I want your head on a post by the Nihonbashi Bridge!”

  “I swear on my life, I’m innocent!” Ienobu bleated.

  Sano stepped forward. “Pardon me, Your Excellency, but even though Lord Ienobu’s motive for the attack on you looks stronger in light of these new circumstances, there’s still no evidence against him. There are other suspects.”

  “He’s right!” Ienobu gasped with relief that someone was taking his side. “Let him finish his investigation. It will prove that someone else is guilty!”

  The angry determination on the shogun’s face wavered. A curse on that bastard, Sano! Yanagisawa thought. He wouldn’t let Sano redirect the tide that was finally flowing in the direction he wanted. “Sano-san is right,” he said. Sano frowned in surprise at his capitulation. “We don’t know for sure who stabbed Your Excellency, but one thing is certain: Yoshisato is back.” He felt the warmth of Yoshisato’s dazzling light. “Yoshisato was your first choice for an heir. Lord Ienobu was only a poor second. You should rename Yoshisato as your heir.”

  “Yes, yes!” the shogun exclaimed, clutching at Yoshisato. “You are my heir.”

  “And Acting Shogun,” Yanagisawa prompted.

  “And Acting Shogun. Nephew, I don’t need you anymore. Good-bye!”

  17

  SANO, YANAGISAWA, YOSHISATO, and Lord Ienobu exited the palace. A crowd of officials, troops, and servants outside, abuzz with gossip and speculation, halted them on the veranda. Yoshisato smiled and bowed to them. They quieted, gawking at the soul risen from the dead. Sano saw Masahiro in the back, craning his neck. Yanagisawa spoke into the pool of silence.

  “The shogun has renamed Lord Yoshisato as his heir. Lord Yoshisato is now the Acting Shogun.” Yanagisawa’s voice rang with triumph.

  Exclamations burst from the crowd. Sano recognized officials who were Ienobu’s allies, saw panic on their faces. Under his stoic manner he, too, was reeling with shock. Never had he imagined that the investigation he’d started four years ago would end like this. He was delighted to have Ienobu knocked out of first place in line for the succession, but he’d delivered control of the regime into the hands of Yanagisawa and his pawn.

  Yoshisato stepped forward. An anxious hush descended as his new subjects waited for the changes they knew would come. “Many thanks for coming to welcome me back.” He surely knew that many of these men were loyal to Ienobu, but he spoke as if to friends. “I shall visit each of your departments soon. You shall brief me about everything that has happened while I’ve been away, and we shall discuss how we can work together on behalf of my father’s government.”

  Before the fire, Yoshisato had asked Sano to be part of a coalition to improve the government, stamp out corruption, and reduce political strife. Evidently he still wanted the coalition; he was still idealistic. But his pleasant words to Ienobu’s friends contained a threat: Switch your allegiance to me, or woe betide you. He was making good use of his experience as a gangster boss, but that didn’t alleviate Sano’s qualms.

  The crowd quickly dispersed. Only Masahiro, the sentries, and Yoshisato’s gangsters remained. Sano supposed that everyone else was eager to discuss this historic event, spread the news, and figure out how to survive the coup. “Find your mother and tell her what happened,” Sano said to Masahiro. She wasn’t going to be pleased. He couldn’t leave yet, and if she couldn’t hear it directly from him, better Masahiro than the gossips.

  Masahiro ran off to obey. Yanagisawa and Yoshisato faced Lord Ienobu. Vindictive satisfaction shone in their eyes, but Sano perceived a strange, uncomfortable air between the two.

  “How does it feel to have the power shifted to the other hand?” Yanagisawa gloated.

  Fuming yet helpless, Ienobu started to sidle around his two enemies.

  “Not so fast,” Yoshisato said. “Here’s my first order to you: Vacate the heir’s residence by sundown.”

  Ienobu spoke through gritted teeth. “I’ll see the two of you in hell before I let you rule Japan.” He scuttled away like a fleeing cockroach.

  “I’ve waited four years for this day,” Yanagisawa said, watching Ienobu’s retreat.

  “So have I,” Yoshisato said.

  Sano had noticed that they hadn’t looked at each other since he’d sprung Yoshisato on the shogun. They were a united front against Ienobu, yet somehow divided. Yoshisato said to Sano, “We’ll talk soon.”

  Yanagisawa’s eyes narrowed with disapproval at this hint of camaraderie. Sano found himself caught in a familiar spot—between his liking for Yoshisato, his bad blood with Yanagisawa, and his duty. “Talk about what?” Sano asked Yoshisato.
“The fact that you’re Yanagisawa-san’s son and not the shogun’s?”

  “Oh, come now, you can’t really want to fight about that again!” Yanagisawa regarded Sano with exasperation.

  Much as he liked Yoshisato, Sano resisted being sucked into an allegiance with him. “You shouldn’t be allowed to inherit the dictatorship. You’re a fraud.” And Yanagisawa was his partner in his fraud and his quest to seize power.

  “So why did you bring me to the palace? You knew the shogun would rename me his heir.” Antagonism tinged Yoshisato’s voice. Sano had the peculiar sense that he really had died in the fire and been reincarnated as this gangster who would thrash anyone who crossed him. “Why didn’t you tell Lord Ienobu that I was in town and let him do away with me?”

  “Because the shogun deserved to know the truth about what happened to you. Because Ienobu engineered the death of the shogun’s daughter even though he didn’t kill you.”

  “Which means you have to choose between a fraud and a murderer,” Yanagisawa said.

  “That’s no choice!” Sano was exasperated, too. “Neither Yoshisato nor Ienobu deserves to be the next shogun! And you certainly don’t deserve to control the regime.”

  “One or the other of us will be,” Yoshisato said, “and I’m the top contender, not to mention Acting Shogun.”

  The threat gleamed like a knife blade through his civil manner. And Sano had once thought that Yoshisato had inherited none of Yanagisawa’s ruthlessness! By bringing Yoshisato back to court had he supplanted Ienobu with a worse villain?

  Yoshisato read the dismay and confusion on his face and smiled faintly. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to have your head for defying me. I’m going to help you do something you’ve been wanting for four years—deliver Lord Ienobu to justice.”

  Sano chuckled at the irony of one criminal offering to help him get another. “Lord Ienobu’s not the only one who should be delivered to justice.” His gaze encompassed both Yoshisato and Yanagisawa.