by Nick Hurst
He either didn’t register my coldness or pretended not to notice.
‘Yep, my hands were a whole lot happier before you showed up, but I’m pleased that you did. If you do want to get into that though, you don’t just owe me a finger now—’
‘I don’t owe you a finger – you lost the first because you owe me one.’
‘—you owe me your life as well.’
Much as I didn’t want to admit it, he was right. I wasn’t going to acknowledge it to him though.
‘And here’s me thinking I’d given you two, plus Yabu and the others you took care of. It seems you owe me rather than the other way round.’
He might have saved my life but I still despised him. I’d have been happy to take his and call it quits.
‘Maybe I do, Ray-san, maybe I do. For the moment let’s say we’re even,’ he said, his upbeat mood refusing to be tempered by my chill. I still wasn’t sure if his insensitivity was genuine or just his way of playing the game.
‘But we should head off. You need some rest. You don’t seem your normal self.’
He moved towards the door.
‘By the way, Kumichō wants to see you. There’ll be a car waiting for you when you’re discharged.’
I ignored him and gave Sumida a nod which he replied to in kind.
They left, and Kurotaki’s vacuum seemed to draw the last of the stress from me, sucking it with him and out of the room. It was over. I’d survived. I couldn’t say I’d won, but the fact I was breathing meant I hadn’t totally lost.
THIRTEEN
Dreaming of the Floating World 6
‘So what will you do?’ he asked, once the frenzy of events had abated and the roar of excitement dulled to a buzz.
‘I think that’s a question I should be asking you,’ she replied. ‘The actions of a regent of the council are of far greater interest than someone as inconsequential as me.’
He stretched with languid indulgence, as if doing so would clear the months of strain.
‘I don’t think the bakufu would have had your debts annulled if you were as insignificant as you claim. If they hadn’t, the first thing I would have done would be to buy out your contract.’
‘But they did and so you can’t. Which still leaves me wondering what you will do instead.’
‘I will do as the duty of a regent demands. I shall endeavour as best I can to ensure our great land is run for the betterment of the shōgun and his people.’
It was said with a straight face that didn’t hide the smile that lay beneath. She returned it with an equally impassive look that revealed just as much. But she still didn’t tell him her plans and he knew she wouldn’t. He doubted he would see her again.
Outside the sun blazed an early-winter glory. A gust of wind tore at the few leaves still held by jealous owners, sending them pirouetting through the air and down the parade. To the unknowing eye all appeared normal, but those who knew the area knew it was not.
Yoshiwara thrived, it survived, on drama. This usually centred on true love breaking through the quarter’s superficial romance: courtesans eschewing the rich and powerful for the powerless and poor; love pacts that led to unlikely escapes; and quashed romances and double suicides that left a bittersweet aching in even the hardest Yoshiwaran heart.
The heroines were the courtesans, the greatest revered for their indomitable spirit, their rebellious verve and elan. The heroes were their lovers and clients, but only those who revealed themselves exceptional in gallantry and charm. Through their dramas, collective misery was made bearable by the adventures of a few.
But the greatest of Yoshiwara’s stories were usually myths, a fact that was acknowledged by being ignored. Until now, when a story greater than all others had played out before their very eyes, its significance felt not only in Yoshiwara and Edo, but in Osaka, Kyoto and the rest of Japan.
Crowds had lined the streets and clients and courtesans jostled on balconies to witness a squad of bakufu troops surge down the parade. They had advanced to Izumiya without resistance for the plotters had relied on stealth instead of strength for their defence and had left their militias behind.
As custom demanded, they had even handed their swords in at Izumiya’s door. One assistant made an attempt to retrieve his when the bakufu samurai burst in. His neck was severed three-quarters of the way through as reward.
They had been led out with hands bound and some heads bowed. But not Lord Genpachi’s. He had maintained his regal bearing, walking proud as the line of lords made prisoners were marched to Edo between a samurai guard.
Within ten days they were dead. But their crimes were too abhorrent for the honour of seppuku. Their interrogations were thorough and abundant in pain. The deaths that followed lingered almost as long, the slow demise of crucifixion ended by thrusts of long lances just before exposure extracted its final toll.
Their bodies were displayed a week more, serving warning to would-be plotters and providing carrion for scavengers and birds. Their families were treated more leniently. They too were tortured, man, woman and child, but in their beheading their deaths were at least swift.
At the end of the controlled carnage none of the plotters’ bloodlines remained, their long dynasties at an end. But plenty were willing to take their place, to assume their land and their stipends, their power and wealth.
Men like Lord Ezoe.
But of Katsuyama? Three days after the affair she disappeared from Yoshiwara like a will-o’-the-wisp. And despite its disappointment, Yoshiwara was happy. Truth was now free to be moulded into myth; the constraints of fact removed and the possibilities endless for playwrights and artists to craft.
So it was that in the eleventh month Katsuyama lived and breathed the Yoshiwaran air, and in the twelfth she did not. And while there must have been those who knew where she went, none ever said.
FOURTEEN
‘So, Clarence-san, you did it. You avenged Chōshi-san’s death. You took on two of the most powerful men in the country and won.’
Takata looked at me with probing eyes. As with everything he said, I couldn’t be sure what was genuine and what was loaded to reveal something in my response. I tried to give up as little as I could.
‘Thank you. But I think it would be more realistic to say I was a useful pawn. It seems to me you won this particular battle.’
He smiled. It looked sincere.
‘You undervalue your contribution,’ he said. ‘But you’re right that the situation has worked out for us both. Let’s just say we each have cause for celebration.’
He raised his glass to mine. We were sat in the living room of his house. Unlike the last time it was just the two of us, if you discounted the bodyguards stationed outside the room and around the grounds. A gentle breeze blew outside, rustling the last stubborn leaves of a maple tree that refused to accept the passage of time. It was losing its battle and a sudden gust tore another piece of treasure from its spindly grasp.
‘So what do you intend to do?’ he asked.
‘I haven’t decided yet.’
He threw me a curious look.
‘You’re an intriguing man. Although I suppose by now I shouldn’t be surprised.’
His eyes searched mine, as though through them he could draw further information from my brain. I held his gaze but kept my mouth shut.
‘I make it my business to be able to read people and anticipate their actions, but you’ve had a capacity to catch me off guard from the start.’
‘I’m not sure what you mean,’ I said. ‘I only got out of hospital half an hour ago. I haven’t had time to think.’
‘I didn’t expect you to give it much thought. My impression was of a more reluctant member of our organisation. I thought you might take the debt we owe you as an opportunity to get out.’ He waved a hand magnanimously. ‘You would of course go with my blessing, and you’ll always be able to rely on our support. We don’t hold quite the same influence in your country, but if you needed it I’m sure
there would be ways in which we could help.’
I wasn’t trying to play mind games with him. I really hadn’t thought about what to do next. I’d spent my two days conscious in hospital snoozing, reading and watching TV. I’d revelled in new-found safety. And I’d thought about Tomoe and reread her letter countless times. Despite everything, it had strangely brought me peace, even a faint glow of happiness amid the melancholy thoughts. It had allowed me to remember her alive, to remember us, to break from the visions of her dead. Which made me think.
‘Wait a minute. How come I’m not under arrest?’
‘Oh, that?’ said Takata. ‘They ended up doing a post-mortem after all. It revealed that poor Chōshi-san couldn’t have had her life taken by you on the day it was alleged.’
My eyes narrowed.
‘Come to think of it, the Takata-gumi seemed to escape mention in all of the reports I read.’
He shrugged.
‘What do you expect? We provided some security consultation but essentially we were bystanders. In the scheme of things the newspapers appeared to think our fleeting involvement not worthy of note. They were far more interested in Onishi and Yabu.’
Two small examples of the power that came with reclaiming the throne. With his enemies and counterbalances gone, he’d be stronger than ever. It was the kind of thought that would previously have made me shudder but I didn’t feel anything now. I’d changed. Or maybe I hadn’t. Maybe the person I always was had just been released. It was what Tomoe and Takata seemed to think.
‘I’m not sure what there is for me now in England that there wasn’t before,’ I said, returning to his question. ‘I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I went back.’
‘And you do if you stay?’
‘I could go back to teaching.’
‘A nine-and-a-half-fingered teacher with a large horimono on his back? I’m not sure there would be many schools queuing up for your services.’
‘My finger? Who would hold an injury from a car accident against me? And I’m not planning to teach any classes bare-chested.’
He smiled.
‘You don’t think the life of a teacher may seem dull now you’ve been involved in a more … dynamic job?’
‘Maybe all I ever wanted was happy mundanity.’
He cocked his head and observed me.
‘Maybe it’s what you thought you wanted, I’m not sure. But I don’t think deep down it’s what you really desired. The kind of people you’re drawn to, the way you went about things when events turned out as they did. Your life wouldn’t have led to this if you really were after quiet.’
I wondered if he was right. But I’d backed out of bungee jumps before when I got nervous – it wasn’t the kind of thing that suggested I’d been looking for this.
‘Well, we’ll have to see. I need to take some time out. I might go back to London after all.’
‘There are “buts” in your voice.’
Faces flashed across my mind and a nipple that no longer was.
‘There are buts.’
Slights and unpunished acts.
‘I still feel I have unfinished business. Maybe I’ll stay.’
He raised his eyebrows.
‘Unfinished business?’
‘Something like that.’
I wondered if he got the same sense of satisfaction leaving people hanging on what was left unsaid.
‘I mean, I’ve got to get my tattoo finished for a start. I’ll look pretty stupid going around with it as it is for the rest of my life.’
He smiled, and I sensed the smile was from inside as well as on his face.
‘If you stay, you’ll have to show it to me when it’s completed. Perhaps you’ll be able to enlighten me on your unfinished business at the same time. The ripples from the pebbles you throw have a tendency to turn into waves. I’d like to be able to prepare.’
I smiled back. He was right. If I did stay it was likely to get just as messy again. But the thought didn’t scare me as it once would have. It wasn’t just Sumida – I’d been looking and learning as well.
I got up and bowed deeply. He stood and bowed in return. With that I turned and walked from the room.
IMAGES
I have been able to illustrate this book with the wonderful prints featured within thanks to the kind support and great generosity of the following museums, art dealers and printmakers. I am extremely grateful to them all.
Art Gallery of Greater Victoria
Honolulu Museum of Art
JapanesePrints-London
Metropolitan Museum of Art
Minneapolis Institute of Arts
Mokuhankan
Museum of Art, Rhode Island School of Design
Philadelphia Museum of Art
Rijksmuseum
Scholten Japanese Art
Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Museum für Asiatische Kunst
Poem of the Pillow, Kitagawa Utamaro, p.2
The Sunrise at Futamigaura, Utagawa Kunsada, p.8, © Honolulu Museum of Art, Gift of James A. Michener, 1959 (14446)
Yellow Rose and Frogs, Utagawa Hiroshige, p.18, © Honolulu Museum of Art (29951S)
Akashi Gidayu – One Hundred Aspects of the Moon, Tsukioka Yoshitoshi, p.24, © Scholten Japanese Art, New York
Unravelling the Threads of Desire, Kitagawa Utamaro, p.30, Metropolitan Museum of Art (JP3166)
The Actor Nakamura Shikan IV as Washi no Chokichi, Toyohara Kunichika, p.40
Chrysanthemums and Horsefly, Katsushika Hokusai, p.48, Minneapolis Institute of Arts, Bequest of Richard P. Gale (74.1.210)
The Courtesan Kasugano of the Sasaya Brothel, Chōkōsai Eishō, p.56, © Honolulu Museum of Art (29762S)
Charcoal Foot Warmer, Itō Shinsui, p.64, Minneapolis Institute of Arts, Gift of Ellen and Fred Wells (2002.161.85)
Notes on Events in the Ansei Period, Utagawa Kuniyoshi, p.72, © Museum of Civilizations – MPE ‘L. Pigorini’
Ario-maru Struggling with a Giant Octopus, Utagawa Kuniyoshi, p.84
Nakamura Utaemon III as Gotobei Moritsugu, Utagawa Kunisada, p.90, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, Bequest of H.C. Bos (RP-P-2008-167)
Comparison of the High Renown of the Loyal Retainers and Faithful Samurai: Chiba Saburohei Mitsutada, Utagawa Kuniysohi, p.96, © Art Gallery of Greater Victoria, Purchased with Funds provided by Judith Patt (2012.031.009)
Snake, Pheasant and Canna (Kanna ni kiji to hebi), Katsushika Hokusai, mid-1830s, p.108, Gift of Mrs John D. Rockefeller, Jr., Photography by Erik Gould, Courtesy of the Museum of Art, Rhode Island School of Design, Providence
The Psyche of Fish (Sakana no kokoro), 1830–44, Utagawa Kuniyoshi, p.120, © Staatliche Museen zu Berlin, Museum für Asiatische Kunst, Photography courtesy of Art Research Center, Ritsumeikan University, Kyoto
Picture of the Eastern Beauties, Kitao Shigemasa, p.128, Metropolitan Museum of Art, Rogers Fund, 1914 (JP195)
Onoe Kikugoro in the Role of Samurai Hayata Hachiemon Committing Seppuku, Toyohara Kunichika, p.140, Art Gallery of Greater Victoria, Purchased with funds provided by Barry Till (2004.017.001)
Coiled Dragon Panel for Higashimachi Festival Float, Nagano Prefectural Treasure, Katsushika Hokusai, p.152, © Hokusai Museum, Obuse
Okano Kin’emon Fujiwara no Kanehide – Pictorial Biographies of the Loyal Retainers, Tsukioka Yoshitoshi, p.172, © Scholten Japanese Art, New York
Meshimoriosugi Ichikawa Monnosuke, Utagawa Toyokuni I, p.180, © The Tsubouchi Memorial Theatre Museum, Waseda University (001-0841)
Crow in the Snow, Kawanabe Kyōsai, p.196, © Honolulu Museum of Art, Gift of James A. Michener, 1991 (24730)
Hydrangeas and Swallow, Katsushika Hokusai, p.206, Minneapolis Institute of Arts, Bequest of Richard P. Gale (74.1.215)
A Beauty Looking at the First Sunrise, Eishōsai Chōki, p.214, Minneapolis Institute of Arts, Gift of Louis W. Hill, Jr. (P.70.134)
Poppies, Katsushika Hokusai, p.222, Minneapolis Institute of Arts, Bequest of Richard P. Gale (74.1.206)
>
The Great Wrestling Match at Akazawa, Utagawa Kuniyoshi, p.230, © JapanesePrints-London.com
Looking in Pain, Tsukioka Yoshitoshi, p.242, © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge
Nakamura Kichiemon I as Mitsuhide, Natori Shunsen, p.252, © Honolulu Museum of Art, Gift of the Charles Alfred Castle Memorial Collection, 1999 (26556)
Poem of the Pillow, Kitagawa Utamaro, p.262
Moor at the Foot of Mount Fuji – The Soga Brothers Achieving their Avowed Wish, Utagawa Kuniyoshi, p.276, © JapanesePrints-London.com
Kyōsai’s Pictures of One Hundred Demons, Kawanabe Kyōsai, p.290, Metropolitan Museum of Art, Purchase, Mary and James G. Wallach Foundation Gift, 2013 (2013.767)
Kumonryu on a Moonlit Night in Shi Clan Village – One Hundred Aspects of the Moon, Tsukioka Yoshitoshi, p.294, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam, Gift of J.P. Filedt Kok, Amsterdam (RP-P-2003-450)
Hibiscus and Sparrow, Katsushika Hokusai, p.306, Minneapolis Institute of Arts, Bequest of Richard P. Gale (74.1.213)
Kisen Hōshi, from the series The Six Immortal Poets, Katsushika Hokusai, p.314, © Honolulu Museum of Art, Gift of James A. Michener, 1991 (23703)
Dragon in the Clouds, Totoya Hokkei, p.322, © Mokuhankan
Asakusa Ricefields and Torinomachi Festival, Utagawa Hiroshige, p.338, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam (RP-P-1956-745)
Peonies and Butterfly, Katsushika Hokusai, p.346, Minneapolis Institute of Arts, Bequest of Richard P. Gale (74.1.211)
Horse and Rider, Tsukioka Yoshitoshi, p.352, Metropolitan Museum of Art, Gift of Francis M. Weld, 1948 (JP3133)
The Ghost of Yūgao from The Tale of Genji, Tsukioka Yoshitoshi, p.360, © Philadelphia Museum of Art, Purchased with funds contributed by the E. Rhodes and Leona B. Carpenter Foundation (1989-47-423)
Namauo Chōjirō Running to Left with Huge Blade, from the series Biographies of Fine Modern Men, Tsukioka Yoshitoshi, p.366, © Philadelphia Museum of Art, Gift of Sidney A. Tannenbaum, 1978 (1978-129-47)
Crow on a Tree Trunk, Kawanabe Kyōsai, p.374, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam (RP-P-1956-776)