“Yeah, it sure did. When I look back on it, I’m sure Kihei sent me right out for adoption before anybody could check things out. He’s really tight with Matsubei, the head clerk at the family I was adopted into. They must have planned everything together. They both knew the family was about to declare bankruptcy, and that’s why Kihei did everything so fast. I had no idea at all what was going on. But as soon as I became a member of my new family, I discovered it had huge debts. Well, by then I was already the legal family head. I was part of the family, so I wanted to do something to help out. So I took all the hundred gold coins I’d borrowed from Kihei as my adoption dowry and used them to start paying off some of the debts. But it was all a complete loss. I’ll never be able to pay any of it back to Kihei. Ever. After that, Kihei refused to let me come back to the house. He wouldn’t even let me near it, and he wouldn’t let me contact you or anyone else there. It was all my own fault. I really messed everything up.
“And then that clerk Matsubei told me they’d auctioned off all the family belongings to pay off its debts. But he also said there were a hundred gold coins left over that the creditors didn’t know about. And he said he needed some cash right away and wanted to make a deal. He told me the family had lent five hundred gold coins to Lord Hatakeyama,3 and he said he’d give me the loan document if I’d give him the hundred gold coins. I agreed, and he took seventy coins for himself and said he’d give the other thirty to some of his friends. Then he said he had to go to Kyoto and Osaka and just disappeared. I haven’t seen him since. The second clerk, Kyūhachi, is very kind and honest. He went to see Lord Hatakeyama for me, and they told him they’d try their best to pay back the five hundred gold coins. But they also said they hadn’t received any payment yet for a very famous tea canister called Moon at Dawn they’d recently left with Matsubei, who’d promised to find a customer for them. They were very puzzled, because they’d heard Lord Kajiwara had already bought the canister for fifteen hundred gold coins. They said they’d be glad to deduct the five hundred coins in the loan document, which was made out to Natsui Tanjirō—that’s my new name—but they demanded I deliver the remaining thousand coins immediately.
“Kyūhachi could hardly believe it. After he got back to his house, we started planning how we could pay back the money. But we’d hardly started talking when some of the lord’s officials showed up at his house. They said they’d been very busy recently, since the lord was getting ready to leave Edo and go back to his domain, and they hadn’t realized that the Natsui house had declared bankruptcy. Since it had, they very strictly ordered Matsubei and the new Natsui family head—me—to appear without fail at the lord’s mansion with the thousand coins we owed for selling the canister. When Kyūhachi heard that, he arranged for me to quickly disappear from sight for a while. I hear Matsubei never came back, and Kyūhachi’s getting into worse and worse trouble himself. But he’s not the only one who got himself into trouble. I feel pretty angry, too. Why should I get stuck with all those debts? Do I really deserve it?”
“Of course not. Just hearing about it makes me angry, too. And who’s taking care of you while you’re sick like this?”
“There’s nobody here to take care of me. The other people in the tenement help out when they can. But mainly, well, Kyūhachi, the clerk I just mentioned, his wife has a younger sister who works as a hairdresser. She lives near here, so sometimes she drops in and does a few things.”
“Oh really? And what about this woman?”
“What do you mean, what about this woman?”
“You mean there’s nothing special between you two? It makes me a little worried.”
“Don’t be silly. We don’t make love or anything like that. Not at all. I’m really very lonely here like this, you know.” Tears began to streak his face.
“Tanjirō, why do you say such sad things? Now that I know where you are, I’m going to do my best, no matter what happens, to see that you live a lot better than this. So get hold of yourself. And get well as soon as you can, understand? In a lonely place like this, alone at night, it must get pretty . . .” Yonehachi turned away and put her sleeve over her eyes. Tanjirō had changed so terribly in such a short time. Until recently he’d been the young manager of a small, prestigious house on the main street of Yoshiwara, even if the house hadn’t been making that much money, and he’d been surrounded by gorgeous things in the latest style. Yet here he was now in an old, tiny room only three floor mats wide. Yonehachi could imagine how ashamed he must feel at being suddenly seen like this in such a pitiful place. She had many, many worries of her own, too, but she loved Tanjirō and wanted to comfort him, so she didn’t mention any of them.
“Don’t worry,” Tanjirō said, wiping away his tears. “I’m hiding out from everyone, so it’s natural that I’m poor and can’t do what I want. I guess I was just meant to be poor.”
“That’s exactly why I don’t want to leave here and go home.”
“Hey, don’t talk like that. Go on back and come and see me again, will you? It’s pretty late already, so you’d better go now. All right?”
“There’s nothing to worry about. I knew I might come back late today, so I took care of everything already. The top courtesan Konoito, she asked me to take a letter for her to Toku, and I brought it with me. I was planning to take it to him in Uramae4 myself. But I can ask someone else to deliver it for me. It’ll still get to him today. And I told everyone I was going to do a hundred prayers each to Kannon and the goddess Awashima at Asakusa Temple. Everybody knows that’ll take a long time, so they aren’t expecting me back right away. Hey, you don’t have a single live coal in this place.” Yonehachi got up, looked for the tinderbox, and finally started a fire. “Let me boil your medicine for you. Which pot should I use?”
“The one over there next to the charcoal brazier.” Tanjirō got out a bag of ground herbs from near where he was lying. “Put in a little ginger, too. I think there’s some right above that tray.”
“Ah, yes. It’s right here. My goodness, you don’t mean this pot with the broken spout, do you?” Suddenly Yonehachi began laughing—until she remembered how poor Tanjirō was. Then she stopped, sad once again. “Where’s your doctor?”
“I don’t have one. Ohama brought it.”
“Ohama?”
“The younger sister of Kyūhachi’s wife. I told you about her just now. You know, I think that girl who’s trying out with you might have thought Ohama was my wife. That’s all right, but if people find out where I am, I’m in big trouble.”
“Don’t worry. Nobody around here can possibly figure out who you are. Listen, do you have any food?”
“Yeah. Last night a middle-aged woman from the other end of the building came and cooked something for me, so I’m fine. But you must be hungry. There don’t seem to be any places around here that deliver food, though. We’re just too far from everything out here.”
“I’m fine. As part of my prayer to find you, I vowed not to eat anything with salt in it before noon, and it’s still pretty early. But I sure would like to cook something delicious for you. I’ll put something or other together. And while I’m here, try to think of something you’d especially like.” Then Yonehachi took a small packet out of her purse. “Well, buy some things you need with this. And get yourself some food that’ll give you some strength, understand? This morning I was just going out to pray, and I didn’t even know whether I’d meet you. So this is all I have right now. It’s not much at all. But I’ll get hold of some more and bring it the next time I come.”
Tanjirō took the folded packet with a pained expression on his face. “Well, thanks very much. I’m sorry to put you out. Are you going now, Yonehachi?”
“Of course not. I don’t need to be back yet. I told you, everybody thinks I’ll be back late. Well, you know, Tanjirō, your hair looks really messy. Shall I comb it up a little and retie the topknot for you? I’m sure that would make you feel a little better.”
“That’s for sure,”
Tanjirō said. “If you think you can stay a little longer, please comb it for me. But do it gently.”
“All right, well, all I have is my long hairpin comb, but it should work fine,” Yonehachi said happily as she went around behind Tanjirō. “Oh ho, your hair’s an incredible mess!” Like other women, Yonehachi was quickly overcome by her emotions, and as she remembered what she and Tanjirō had shared together in the past, she began to cry. Her tears were already cold by the time they fell on Tanjirō’s neck, and he turned around.
“Yonehachi, why are you crying?”
“But. . .”
“But what?”
“How can you possibly, well, be like this now? There’s nothing here at all.” She clung to his shoulder and began to cry again.
Tanjirō looked around at Yonehachi, took her hand, and pulled her to him. “Forgive me,” he said.
“For what? Why are you apologizing?”
“Because now I’ve made you sad, too.”
Yonehachi leans against Tanjirō. Yonehachi’s gold coin lies on the floor unwrapped.
“Really?” Yonehachi said. “Are you really worried about me?”
“I don’t want you to feel sad like me,” Tanjirō said. He put his arms around Yonehachi and pulled her to him. She lay naturally and without hesitation against his lap and looked into his eyes.
“I’m really happy now, you know,” she said. “Let’s.”
“What do you mean ‘Let’s’?”
“I mean let’s stay like this forever.”
Tanjirō began to gaze deeply back at Yonehachi. He realized how attractive Yonehachi was and completely forgot about everything else. “What about right now?” he said, holding her close against him.
“Hey, that tickles!” Yonehachi said.
“Sorry.”
As they lay down on the floor, they heard the distant booming of the 10:00 A.M. bell at the temple to Kannon in Asakusa.
In the second chapter, Yonehachi and Tanjirō converse again after their lovemaking. Yonehachi tries to determine whether Tanjirō loves her deeply, and he claims that he has never forgotten her. But she becomes jealous when he asks about Ochō, his fiancé e and the daughter of the now-dead manager of the house in the quarter. As Yonehachi leaves, she begs Tanjirō to be faithful to her, although Tanjirō replies only vaguely. She is so distracted by the anxiety of leaving Tanjirō that she forgets her hood and must come back for it. Shunsui comments to his readers:
Ah, how completely foolish they look. But for the lovers themselves, it is a feeling that no one else could understand. Individual men and women have different feelings of love, yet all are equally true. Love can’t be judged by common sense, as the saying goes, and through love one comes to learn great sympathy and sensitivity to others’ feelings. Learning this will surely help soften the hearts of even us ordinary people who hold such distorted views about love.
Chapter 3 opens on the third day of the new year. Konoito, the leading courtesan of the Katakotoya House, is in her apartment on the second floor secretly conferring with Yonehachi. To help Yonehachi, Konoito has devised a plan that will allow her to escape from her contract and the quarter. Konoito asks Yonehachi to pretend that she is sleeping with Tōbei, Konoito’s most intimate customer and lover. According to Konoito’s plan, she will discover what is happening and severely criticize Yonehachi in front of everyone. Having broken one of the fundamental rules of the house, the manager will then be forced to release Yonehachi from her contract and send her away. Once Yonehachi leaves the quarter, she will be free to visit and help Tanjirō, now hiding on the outskirts of the city in Nakanogō. Then Ochō also confides in Konoito about her difficulties with Kihei, the new manager of the Karakotoya, who is harassing the young and orphaned Ochō in her own house. With Konoito’s assistance, Ochō decides to flee the Karakotoya and the city—a journey that is described in the next chapter. The chapter ends with a disclaimer from the narrator-author:
This book seeks only to present the feelings of Yonehachi, Ochō, and the other characters and is not an expose of what goes on in the licensed quarter. I myself do not even know very much about the houses of pleasure. This book deals with them only briefly and generally, so I ask readers not to judge this book as if it were a sharebon, a book of wit and fashion about the licensed quarter. Furthermore, as readers read about Ochō’s anger at the suffering she must endure after losing her parents, I hope they will realize how important their own parents are and always listen to what they say. Ochō is hardly unique. Many children lose their parents early, and they are forced by strangers into very shameful situations and are abused even more badly than Ochō. Readers should realize how lucky they are if their parents remain alive until they become adults. It is a gift more precious than any treasure.
While they lived
I took them for granted
and neglected them—
now, gone forever,
how dear they grow.5
CHAPTER 4
Four or five toughs stood around a small bamboo palanquin, which hung from a long carrying beam. The palanquin had been put down beside the road and its beam propped up in front and back on two sticks. “Hey, young lady,” one tough was saying. “It’s time to get out now. Hurry up!”
From inside the hanging straw mats that formed the sides of the palanquin came a young woman’s voice. “All right,” she said. “Thanks very much for bringing me such a long way. You must be completely worn out. I suppose this must be Kanazawa.”6
“Well,” one of the toughs said, “it’s still two and a half miles to Kanazawa. But there’s more money here than in Kanazawa.7 You’re so good looking, you know—the carriers and us, well, all our poles are propping up your palanquin beam.8 We’re so excited we’ve come all the way here without even stopping to rest.”
“We’re all good buddies,” one of the carriers said, “and we’re all real kind. Luckily there’s an old deserted Buddhist temple right over there. The Temple of Mutual Bliss. There’s no priest around any more, so we want you, young lady, to sit right up front, and we’ll all sit next to you and pray to Amida Buddha in one big group. You won’t mind it.”
“Come on now,” the tough said again, “you’d better get out.” He threw up the flap on one side of the palanquin.
“All right then,” the young woman said uneasily. “Is this a temple? You say you want me to lead a ceremony to Amida Buddha? In this deserted graveyard? As you can see, I’m not a Buddhist nun. Why do you want me to sit in front and lead the chanting?”
“You mean you don’t know the chant?” said the tough. “My, my, you certainly are an unsophisticated young lady, aren’t you. In this day and age it’s hard to find anyone as naive and ignorant as you. We’re the ones who are going to pray. You’ll be our buddha, and we’re going to call out your name again and again, one after the other, and go to paradise. Hurry up and get out.” He pulled the young woman out of the palanquin.
“Hey,” she said, sounding as if she were about to cry. “It’s very dark out here. It’s so dark it gives me the creeps. If you want to do a long group prayer, do it after you take me to my relatives in Kanazawa. You’ll have all the time you want then.”
“No matter how you look at it,” one carrier told her, “there’s not a single one of us here you’d ever consider sexy or want to sleep with.”
“You said it,” one of the toughs said, “you said it. Anyway, let’s hurry. We’d better make her cry now before someone comes by.”
“If you’re going to make her cry,” a carrier said, “you’d better take her over to the main hall.”
“Pick her up and carry her,” someone else said.
Four or five men grabbed the trembling arms of young woman, whose whole body was now shaking. “Hey,” she shouted. “Please let go of me! You may think I’m too conceited for my age, but I’m engaged, you know. I pray to the gods for my fiancé, and I fast and pray to Benten,9 too. I never even hold hands with other men. To show Benten how serious I
am, I vowed I’d never go near any man for three whole years. Absolutely never. Even if I meet up with my fiance again before that, I won’t stay with him until my vow is up. You men look like you want to force yourselves on me. Stop it, please! Let me go!”
“I feel sorry for you,” one of the toughs said. “You really are in a bad situation. You couldn’t be more than fourteen or fifteen. This must be your very first time. You know, you’re making me even more excited.”
“Damn right,” said another. “Even the waitresses in the inns down on the highway won’t give us anything. If we don’t do it this way, no ripe young virgin . . .”
“.. . this delicious is ever going to come our way again,” said another. “Come on, haul her up to the main hall.”
When the men tried to lift her up, she tensed her whole body. “Listen!” she said, her teeth chattering. “If any of you has any feelings, let me go. I’m begging you. My hands are together. I’m praying, can’t you see? Help! Somebody! Somebody, please, come quick!” Tears ran down her face. Just then the clouds overhead broke, and bright moonlight streamed through, revealing a road stretching out through fields as far as she could see. There was no town anywhere in sight, and the deserted temple was now even more terrifying.
“Hey, young lady, if we were just here to pray, we could do the praying ourselves. There’s no way in the world you’re going to escape from here in the middle of all these fields. Just do what we say and let us sleep with you, and it’ll all be over in no time at all.”
“He’s right, you know. You won’t mind it at all.”
The young woman pulled her sleeves away from the men and began dodging them in every direction. “Hey!” she yelled. “Don’t touch me! I’ll give you five big gold coins. A famous courtesan gave them to me. But I’ll give them all to you. And my robe, too. It’s a very nice one. She also gave that to me. Just let me keep this dappled crimson inner robe. I’ll give you everything else. As long as you don’t make me. . . . Hey, let go. Stop it! Please!”
Early Modern Japanese Literature: An Anthology, 1600–1900 Page 109