Firefly

by India Millar

  “I’m beginning to think that taking you to the Floating World might be quite fun,” he said thoughtfully.

  Twelve

  Clothes are the shape of

  My body. But only when

  I am wearing them

  “Jun, stop dawdling. Come along.”

  I turned in my saddle to see who Isamu was talking to. I had been lost in my thoughts as we had trotted along the well-worn track leading to Yoshiwara, Edo’s great pleasure center known as the Floating World.

  Such was the glamor of the tales of the great city of Edo, I had always imagined it must be many days journey away from our home. I was shocked to discover it was only slightly more than half a day’s brisk ride. Still, I was delighted to find it so close. Unused to traveling on horseback, I was already saddle-sore and my back ached. My mare was the same mount Isamu had given me for our adventure to secure Father’s eagle and I was relieved. She was a sweet-natured, docile creature who responded to my tentative kicks and tugs courteously

  “Jun, for the gods’ sakes, pay attention when I speak to you. And try not to gawp so. You look the perfect country bumpkin with your mouth hanging open like that. It really will not do my reputation any good at all if people in the Floating World think I’ve taken a rustic for my lover.”

  I still didn’t understand. “Who’s Jun?” I asked.

  “You are, you idiot.” Isamu tutted at my stupidity. “You are dressed as a young samurai. While we are in the Floating World, you are a boy, not my stupid little sister. I can hardly call you Keiko, can I? Jun is an excellent name for you in your new incarnation. Remember it, and make sure you respond promptly when I call you by it.”

  “Yes, Isamu,” I said humbly. Even though he was pretending to be annoyed, I caught the sound of humor in his voice and guessed the source of it at once. “Jun” is a name that can be given to either a boy or girl in Japan and is often given to dogs as it means obedient. No doubt Isamu’s idea of a good joke.

  “And another thing.” Isamu reined his horse to a slow walk. The track was wide enough to ride side by side and I drew my mare forward. “This is important, so listen carefully. You look like a boy. But you do not sound like one. Once we are through the gates of the Floating World, if there is anybody close by, you will be silent. No matter what you see or hear, you will not say a word if there is a chance of you being overheard. You understand?”

  “Won’t people think that’s a bit odd? Are you going to tell them I’m dumb?”

  “By all the gods, no.” Isamu looked deeply offended. “Do you really think I would take a lover I couldn’t hold a conversation with? Certainly not. Think, sister. Today, you are a boy. You look the part, but if anybody hears you speaking, the game will be up immediately. The easiest thing is for me to tell everybody that you have taken a vow of silence to appease the gods. In the Floating World, nobody will think anything of it.”

  “What have I done that’s so bad that I need to appease the gods?” I asked doubtfully. “I haven’t had a chance to do anything at all yet, still less anything bad enough to make the gods angry with me.”

  “Shut up and stop arguing. I’ve told you time and time again, the Floating World is different from anything you’ve ever experienced. The only important things are that you have plenty of money, which you’re willing to spend, and are sufficiently iki to be welcomed in the best places. It will probably be seen in your favor that you’ve managed to do something dreadful at an early age.”

  “Yes, Isamu,” I said meekly. Still, I couldn’t resist staring around me.

  “Ignore him.” Isamu spoke without looking at me, and I wondered if he had suddenly grown eyes in the back of his head. How else did he know what I was looking at? A man—a wealthy merchant, judging by his dress—his expression tired and deeply sad, was standing in the shade of a huge old willow tree planted just outside the gates to the Floating World. His hand rested on its trunk and his face was turned back to the gate. As I dragged my reluctant gaze from him, I saw him squaring his shoulders and moving away from the gate, pausing to give a last, lingering glance into the maze of streets behind him.

  “Almost everybody does that when they’re leaving the Floating World behind them,” Isamu said casually. The inference was obvious; everybody else might do so, but Isamu would certainly not. “That willow is famous. On the way in, it gives shade so the expectant visitor can stop and compose himself for a moment, anticipating the pleasures to come. On the way out, it is the last thing the lovelorn pleasure seeker sees. This tree has stood there since the Floating World began many centuries ago. I remember grandfather telling me that when he first visited the Floating World as a very young man, it was no more than a half-grown sapling.”

  “Will this tree still be here when your sons visit, I wonder?” The sense of tradition made me sentimental, and I was surprised when Isamu glanced at me angrily.

  “Perhaps. If Himari is sensible enough to bear me sons.” He added with sudden vehemence, “She will. I’m the last of our family line. I always thought that Father would adopt another son to ensure that the line would continue. I even suggested it to him, but he says he’s too old to go through all the fuss. So, it’s down to me, I suppose.”

  Isamu frowned, and I decided not to pursue the subject.

  We dismounted before we approached the gates. Isamu patted his white stallion’s muzzle and handed the reins casually to a boy who had appeared out of nowhere.

  “Guard him well,” Isamu warned. “And my friend’s horse also.” The boy kowtowed to us both and tugged our mounts away carefully. “From here, we walk, Jun. There is no room for horses in the Floating World. Are you tired? We can hire a palanquin inside if you want, but the best way to enjoy the place is on foot. That way, you miss nothing.”

  I was about to speak but remembered I was to be silent and nodded instead. Isamu looked at me approvingly. I noticed that the guard outside the great gate stood to attention and bowed deeply when Isamu threw him a small coin. He also ignored Isamu’s weapons. We walked through as if we—or at least Isamu—owned the place.

  My brother was suddenly almost a stranger to me. I observed him carefully, trying to copy his lazy slouch, the bored expression on his face. This, I thought, was truly iki! Alas, I could not do it. As soon as I relaxed my body, every ache and pain inflicted by the journey multiplied ten-fold. Everything was so interesting, I had to constantly tell myself not to stare around in rustic fascination.

  The noise threatened to overwhelm me as soon as we crossed the bridge across the deep, waterless moat and stepped through the gate into the Floating World. Living in the country as we did, my hearing was excellent. I could pick out the song of different species of birds. Hear the change in the wind that heralded much-needed rain. And of course, as a girl child, I had always spoken very quietly, as had Emiko. In the perfect quiet of our home, neither Father nor Isamu had ever needed to raise their voice.

  The row here almost hurt my ears. I turned my head from side to side. The street that ran straight in front of us was crowded and fluid with movement. Trees were planted on each side. Although they were not in blossom at this time of year, I recognized them as cherry trees. Immediately, I decided I would try and persuade Isamu to bring me back in the spring so I could see the trees in bloom. Distracted, I had allowed Isamu to get ahead of me and I almost ran after him, certain that if I lost sight of him, this strange, busy world would swallow me at a gulp.

  “This way.” He flung the words carelessly over his shoulder, without looking to see if I was there or not. “I sent word to my favorite teahouse to say I would be coming today. They will be expecting us.”

  The crowd parted grudgingly before us. I watched Isamu anxiously. It seemed to me that people were not at all respectful of his status as a samurai. I expected him to draw his sword and cut a swathe through them to teach them a lesson. He did not, and I understood at once that the normal rules of life were different here.

  Isamu was taller than most of
the throng, and I was grateful as it made him easier to follow. At first, I almost had to run to keep up with him as I was automatically walking as if I was still hobbled by a kimono. Concentrating hard, I forced my legs to imitate his long, swaggering strides. After a bit of practice, I found it not just easy, but delightfully liberating. He turned abruptly onto a side street that was almost as wide as the thoroughfare we had left and stopped in front of a single-story building, discreetly shielded by opaque shoji. It had a small garden in front of it, which I supposed, given the apparent lack of space in the Floating World, must signify great splendor. There was no sign at the door to say what it was nor a bell to ring.

  Isamu pushed open the screen door and stepped inside, kicking off his shoes. I followed. It was clear we had been expected; a young woman was standing in front of us, bowing deeply.

  “It is an honor and a pleasure to welcome you to the Green Teahouse once again, Isamu-san.”

  Her voice was high-pitched and breathy. She smiled as she spoke, her eyes never leaving Isamu for a moment. I inspected her critically, hiding my disappointment. She was far less magnificent than the geisha who had visited Father. She was pretty enough, and her kimono was obviously expensive, but she lacked the fluid elegance I had expected. Nor was she as obviously sure of her own beauty as they had been.

  “Thank you.” Isamu bowed, but not very low. I copied him at once. “I believe I saw you last time I was here. Your name is Megu, isn’t it?”

  I thought the girl was going to go into a fit, she was so delighted my brother had remembered her name. She bowed repeatedly, giggling and covering her face with her hand.

  “So kind, honorable samurai, to remember a humble maiko’s name! So very kind! Please, will you and your companion come through? Hana-san is expecting you.”

  She stood aside and we passed her by without a second glance. I was quite pleased, both because she didn’t look at me oddly and because I understood now that she was not a geisha. Not yet, anyway. Maiko were geisha-in-training. She was still learning her trade, and I thought—rather unkindly—that she had a long way to go before she could hope to entrance a man with her wit and beauty.

  Then we were in the main room of the teahouse, and I sighed with pleasure. This was more like it! The room was large and airy. The fragrance of incense mingled delightfully with blossoms. I stared around as casually as I could manage. The walls were hung with brightly colored prints. A few vases, each with a single ikebana arrangement of flowers, were carefully placed on low pillars. As a girl from a good family, I had been instructed in the art of ikebana, and I saw at once that these sparse displays had been beautifully arranged by expert hands. The room was almost severe in its disciplined elegance. Everything was of the very best, but nothing was overstated in any way.

  “Isamu-san! I welcome you to my humble teahouse. It is so very good to see you again. And your companion, of course.” The woman who spoke had entered so silently I had not noticed her. Her voice, although not loud, made me jump. “Please, will you both sit in front of the tokonoma?”

  She led the way to a recessed area, simply decorated with a single scroll on the wall. I watched Isamu fold himself elegantly to the tatami matting and did my best to imitate his graceful movement.

  “Hana! It is excellent to see you again. May I present my friend, Jun?” I bowed my head politely. Was it my imagination, or had Isamu put a certain emphasis on the word “friend”? I guessed I was right when I saw Hana’s lips quirk into the smallest of smiles. “I’m afraid Jun must remain quiet. He has taken a vow of silence. Only temporarily, fortunately.”

  “Indeed? A silent samurai? Now that is a novelty! One hopes it does not last for so long that you are driven to talking to yourself, Isamu-san.”

  I was amazed when Isamu burst into loud laughter. Had either Emiko or I been so impudent, he would have beaten us for it.

  “I doubt I shall want for conversation in your teahouse, Hana.” Both Isamu and Hana smiled knowingly. I felt very gauche and lowered my head humbly.

  The courtesies over, Hana clapped her hands briskly. A shoji slid back at once and three geisha entered with mincing steps. Immediately behind them, an older, very plain maid carried a tray laden with tea making equipment. Within seconds, the geisha were seated around us, cooing their delight at seeing Isamu once more. I was introduced and blushed ripely beneath their approving gaze. Isamu frowned at me, and I understood his displeasure. This was surely not in the least iki!

  Once the geisha had fawned over Isamu, two of them turned their attention to me. One passed me a brimming cup of green tea. Another came and sat beside me, chattering happily into my silence. Only the eldest of the geisha stayed beside Isamu, her head on one side and her expression rapturous as she listened to every word he said, as though pearls of wisdom passed through his lips with each syllable. He seemed smugly pleased, but despite the attentions of my own geisha, I watched the interaction between them and wondered.

  Isamu’s companion leaned toward him, her gaze never leaving his face. Every line of her slender body expressed pleasure at being at his side. And yet, I was doubtful. Perhaps it was feminine instinct, but I guessed that she was bored. She glanced across at me at that moment and caught my gaze. She lifted her eyebrows in surprise and a frown pursed her reddened lips—there and gone in a flash. But I knew she, in her turn, had sensed that I had seen through her act and was flustered.

  Once the tea was finished, Hana smiled at Isamu.

  “Would you like the girls to play and dance for you? I remember that you greatly enjoyed Miho’s skill with the samisen the last time you honored us with your presence.”

  Isamu stretched. “You are kind, Hana. I thank you, but no. This is Jun’s first visit to the Floating World. Naturally, I had to introduce him to the best and the most famous teahouse in Edo first, but there is a great deal else I would like to show him, so I think we must leave you now.”

  “His first visit!” Hana’s brows rose in amused astonishment. “In that case, surely we must do our best to make it very special for him.” She glanced at me, and then her attention was back on Isamu. I was annoyed. I might be pretending that I had taken a vow of silence, but I could still hear! She had no need to behave as if I was deaf, blind, and stupid.

  “Did you have something in mind?” Isamu was sitting a little straighter. His attention was on Hana, not the geisha at his side, who was fanning him tenderly.

  “I rather wondered if you—and Jun, of course—might like to pay a visit to the Hidden House? I have a new girl to tempt you with. A hunchback, very small. Also, spectacularly ugly.”

  I stared from Hana to my brother. What nonsense was this? Why would he be interested in a hunchback dwarf? Isamu was licking his lips, and I glanced at him in amazement.

  “Really? If she is in the Hidden House, then no doubt she is truly a treasure. Perhaps next time, when I am on my own,” Isamu said. “I don’t want to shock my dear Jun too much on his first visit!”

  “As you wish.” Hana rose to her feet. All three geisha stood with her, bowing as Isamu and I stood up. Hana bowed as well, but I noticed it was just low enough for courtesy. I could barely wait until we were outside again to pester Isamu with my questions.

  “Why did Hana think you would ever be interested in an ugly hunchback? And what’s the Hidden House?”

  “Jun, you are supposed to be silent,” he reproved me. I sighed, and he took pity on me. “Very well. If you have to speak to me in the street, try to do so very quietly. I will tell you, so you don’t let everybody know how unworldly you are. The Hidden House is Hana’s other place of business. It is behind the Green Teahouse, on the other side of the courtyard. It is open only to a select few. No man can go there unless they are introduced by an existing patron. Even then, Hana vets all prospective visitors very carefully. She rejects many more than she allows to pass through the Hidden House’s doors. A man normally must be rich to be allowed in. But money alone is not enough. One must also be very well br
ed and well connected. The soul of discretion. And above all, Hana must like you. The shogun himself would not be allowed to enter if Hana took a dislike to him. Many people think the place does not exist, that it is only a legend. But that is not true.”

  “What is so special about the Hidden House?” I mumbled, trying not to move my lips. Isamu glanced around and then gripped my arm, drawing me into the mouth of an alley so narrow we blocked the way.

  “We can talk safely here. If anybody wants to pass, we will see them coming. Talk of the Hidden House isn’t for everybody’s ears. It’s simply unique. Even in the Floating World, there’s nothing that can match it. Hana describes all of the girls there as flawed jewels. None of them are what you would call normal. She charges a fortune for a man to taste their pleasures, and there’s never any lack of customers.”

  He looked at me with his eyebrows raised, as if to ask if I understood. Although I was deeply reluctant to appear innocent, I shook my head.

  “Why would a man pay such a lot of money for a girl who isn’t beautiful and talented? Surely, there are plenty of lovely yujo available in the Floating World without paying a huge amount for somebody who is less than perfect?”

  “I didn’t say the geisha in the Hidden House aren’t talented.” Isamu frowned, obviously irritated. “They are. They are all skilled musicians and dancers. And no woman in the Floating World could ever beat them for wit. And do not let Hana ever hear you compare them to yujo. All the girls in the Hidden House are true geisha, with all a geisha’s talents. It’s just that they are a little different.”

  Isamu tailed off into silence. I thought about what he had said and brightened.