by India Millar
“You are more beautiful than any woman I have ever known in my life, Keiko-chan. Not just the beauty that the eye can see, but you are beautiful inside.”
He put the fingers that had touched my face to his lips and held them there for a long moment. Before I could speak, he had turned, fluid as a shadow, and opened the door. In the heartbeat it took me to cross the room, he had disappeared. I closed my eyes and listened, but there was nothing left of him. Truly, he might have been the spirit I had first taken him for.
I was no longer tired. I paced the room, going over everything we had said. A scratch at my screen made me jump. Hoping that Yo had perhaps forgotten to say something and had returned to me, I slid the shoji back quickly and sighed at my own foolishness. Not Yo but Matsuo padded in silently. I ruffled the fur around his neck and smiled, absurdly pleased that it seemed Yo had been right after all. Matsuo had chosen me for his mistress.
“What is it, Matsuo?” He was padding around, sniffing suspiciously. I had smelled no trace of anything at all on Yo’s body, not even the deliciously clean smell of skin fresh from the bath. I glowed at the memory. I watched as the akita paused at my—or rather, Isamu’s—discarded robe. He pawed at it and whined deep in his throat.
“Does it stink of the Floating World?” I asked indulgently. “Well, if you don’t like it, I shall hang it up. Tomorrow, I’ll give it back to Isamu.”
Matsuo watched intently as I picked up the robe and shook it out. He growled softly, deep in his throat, as a folded piece of paper fell out of the sleeve. I picked it up quickly, just before Matsuo could get his teeth into it.
“Good boy,” I murmured absently. ”Quiet, now.”
I turned the paper over in my hands, staring at it thoughtfully. I almost threw it away. What did a slip of paper matter on this strangest of nights? Then I saw that the name “Jun” was written on the back of the fold and almost dropped it in shock. Matsuo growled again, peeling his muzzle back from his teeth. I sniffed the parchment cautiously and thought I understood his distaste. It smelled of scent; not the usual gentle fragrance of jako, the geranium musk seeds that people often fold into their clothes to deter moths whilst the clothes are in storage. That was a subtle, pleasant scent. This fragrance was intensely sweet and—to my nose at least—not at all pleasing. I turned it over and over in my hands, oddly reluctant to open it and read the contents. How had it gotten into my sleeve? Was it possible that Yo had placed it there? The thought made me open it eagerly. I gasped as I read it quickly, and then I read it again more slowly. Still, I could barely believe what I was seeing.
It was signed with a flourish—Reo. Emiko’s despoiler. I spoke the words out loud as I read them, as if I expected Matsuo to understand and comment.
Dearest Jun, Since I met you tonight, I cannot get you out of my mind. I beg of you, meet with me! Come to the Floating World, to Hana’s Green Teahouse. I will be there on the fifth evening from now at the time of four bells. If you do not come then, I will wait for you on the tenth night. You will be wise not to disappoint me! I promise you, I will have such delights for you that you will forget all about Isamu. Such delights that you will forget your vow of silence to moan with pleasure. Do not fail me!
I was furious. Not just at Reo’s arrogance, but equally because his note threatened to overshadow the enchantment of this magical night. Then I saw the funny side of it and began to laugh. How was this possible? Yesterday, I had been nothing at all. The neglected, youngest girl child of the family. The girl who should be grateful to be married off to an old man. And now? Why, now it appeared I had a queue of would-be lovers desperate for my favor! I was about to tear up Reo’s note when a thought occurred to me and I pushed it deep into my futon, tugging the mattress firmly over it.
I sat on the futon as if I wanted to squash the note. Reo had despoiled my sister and then discarded her like a scrap of food left on a plate. She had thought herself in love with him, and he had cared nothing for her. He had broken her heart without as much as a second thought. And she still cared for him. I hated him on her behalf.
An idea came to me slowly, and once in place, it lodged stubbornly. What if it was in my power to avenge my sister? What if I could make Reo understand that not all women were as weak as he thought? Keiko could not do it. Keiko would never have the opportunity. But Reo was not interested in Keiko. Jun was the object of—if not his affection, certainly his desire. And Jun was a different proposition entirely. I laid on my futon, with Matsuo warm and bulky and comfortable at my side.
Yo was going to come to me on the third day from today. We would fight. And I would win. I smiled at my certainty. It was not possible that I might lose. I would win, it had to be so. And when I did, would I choose to take Yo as my lover? I smiled to myself in the darkness. Even as my mind formed the word “perhaps,” I felt anticipation coil in my belly.
And after that? I shivered at the possibilities of all that might be to come with Yo. I sighed as I knew I had to put all thoughts of him away, for the moment at least. No matter. There would be plenty of time in the future. I reminded myself firmly that I was bound by the code of bushido. Others had to come before me. Before I could enjoy my anticipation of Yo, there was the matter of my sister’s honor to be avenged. Reo wanted to meet me in the Floating World on the fifth day from today. I would not disappoint him. I would be there. And my vengeance would be all the sweeter when I revealed to him that his nemesis was not Jun, but Keiko.
And after that? I shook my head. No matter how hard I tried. I could not begin to focus on what my future was going to be. How could I? I had never known anything but my life as it was now. I listened to my heart beating and willed it to slow. Finally satisfied with the rhythm of my body, I fell deeply asleep with my arm around Matsuo, lost in wonder as to my new life.
Strangely, I did not dream of Yo. Not even Reo. Instead, my dreams were of the women hidden behind the lattice brothel. When I awoke, my hatred of Reo was intense.
Sixteen
If you have never
Been knocked down, then how are you
To know how to stand?
“Thank you for the loan of your robe, brother.”
I handed Isamu his borrowed robe. He barely glanced at it, yawning and stretching as if he had forgotten I had ever worn it.
“And how did you like the Floating World, younger sister?” He smiled cheerfully at me and I felt guilty that I had ever thought him capable of playing such a mean trick on me.
“It was like nothing I could ever have imagined,” I said truthfully.
“Aye? Well, you certainly made an impression. First, it was Hana, then Reo-san. You know, I thought at one time that Reo-san had taken a real interest in Emiko, to the extent that he might actually put in an offer for her. And I could see she was struck with him as well. But it all came to nothing.”
“Probably just as well,” I said tartly. “If he likes young boys, I hardly think he would have made a good husband for Emiko.”
Isamu stared at me, his eyebrows arched in amazement.
“Perhaps taking you to the Floating World was not a good idea after all, sister. Emiko—and you, for that matter—will accept the husband father selects for you. And do it gladly.”
“I am sorry, Isamu.” I lowered my eyes so he couldn’t see the defiance in my expression. “You are right, of course,”
I nearly had to bite my tongue to force the humble words out. Isamu clearly took my apology at face value.
“You didn’t like Reo, did you?” I shrugged non-committedly. “I suppose he can be a little—what’s the word I’m looking for?—a little flamboyant, shall we say? But he is wealthy, and he comes from a very prestigious family. If he had made an offer to take Emiko as his wife, I think Father might have been just a little tempted to put poor Soji aside in his favor.”
“Could Father have done that? Emiko’s been betrothed to Soji-san since she was a child. I’ve never heard of such a thing happening.” As soon as I said it, I felt fooli
sh. Of course I would never have heard of it; such things would have been handled with the greatest delicacy and never made public. At the same time, I was deeply grateful Emiko had had no idea that she might have had a chance with her plans. If she had only mentioned Reo by name, everything might have been very different. “Surely it would have been terribly disrespectful to Soji-san?”
“Father would never have considered it if it was anybody other than Reo. And Soji.” Isamu shrugged. A sly smile quirked his lips at the corners. “You must remember that Reo really is tremendously rich. And his family is even higher-caste than ours. If he had decided to put his case to Father—who knows? I know it’s virtually unheard of to break off a betrothal, but you have to remember that Soji—even though he’s samurai, in name at least—is a bit of a milksop. I daresay if Father had spoken to him firmly and convinced him Reo was the best match for Emiko, he would probably have released her.”
I took a deep breath and thanked the gods that Emiko had never mentioned Reo’s name to Father when she had pleaded with him. The irony of it was making my head spin. Very reluctantly, I could see that at the side of Reo, Soji would appear to be boring. Would Emiko truly prefer a rat who would break her heart every other day to a nice, sweet-natured husband who allowed her to order him about? I rather thought she would.
“What are you smirking at?” Isamu asked casually.
“Nothing at all, brother. A touch of wind, that’s all.”
He dismissed me with a wave of his hand.
I pulled out Reo’s note and re-read it as I drank my morning tea. The smug, arrogant tone of it still enraged me, but now something puzzled me as well. He had barely been out of our sight last night. How had he found time—not to mention a brush, ink, and parchment—to pen the note to me? I frowned over the elegant calligraphy, and the answer came to me in a flash of inspiration. Of course, Reo had not written it himself! I remembered he had excused himself for a moment as we walked toward the lattice brothel, saying that he had to go for a pee. He had been gone so long that Isamu had become impatient, demanding to know how long it took to pass water? Not long at all was my guess. But a while longer to dictate his message to a calligrapher. I sneered at the thought; he was supposed to be besotted with me, yet couldn’t take the time and effort to compose his own love note! I longed to tell Emiko what a narrow escape she had had, but I held my tongue. Perhaps later—much later—when Reo had been sufficiently punished, I might tell her what I had done for her.
But not, I thought, until she was safely married to Soji. Knowing my sister, I would hardly be surprised if she didn’t become intensely jealous at the idea that Reo had found me—or rather, Jun—attractive. She might even be so furious that his attraction for her would be kindled all over again. No, best to stay silent.
Besides, before I could contemplate showing Reo the error of his ways, I had my own destiny to confront.
To begin, I made discreet inquiries of the servants. It had always seemed to me that many of the house staff felt sorry for me. Certainly, they chatted to me in a way that they never did with Emiko. I soon found out that Father was absent. He was visiting our daimyo and was not expected back for at least three days. The maid seemed distracted; out of kindness, I asked if she was unwell. She was obviously startled and seemed flustered by my concern.
“Oh, no, Keiko-san. I am very well, thank you. It’s just all these dreadful rumors about unrest amongst the peasants hereabouts. Why, we could all wake up with our throats cut one morning if some of them decided enough was enough!”
I hid a smile behind a serious face. Wake up with our throats cut, indeed! What was the silly girl going on about?
“What are you talking about, Emi? What unrest?”
“Don’t you know, Keiko-san? The weather has been too hot this year, and there hasn’t been enough rain. The rice harvest is very poor. And they say that it’s going to be even worse next year, as the peasants will be forced to eat the bit of rice they have and there’ll be nothing left to plant for next year.”
This was by far the longest speech I had ever heard Emi make. I stared at her in surprise.
“I see. But surely that’s not a problem here? Father can spare enough rice to stop our villagers from going hungry,” I pointed out cheerfully. “Our rice granaries are full to overflowing.”
Emi hesitated. I waited for her to speak, but she lowered her eyes and shuffled uncomfortably.
“Yes, Keiko-san. Of course. Was there anything else?”
“Thank you, no.”
I watched her go. Her whole posture radiated unease, and I was puzzled. I went back to see if Isamu knew anything about the likelihood of us all being murdered in our sleep, but his apartment was empty. I shrugged; it was all idle gossip. It had nothing to do with me.
There were other things to keep me occupied. Far more important things.
I closed the door to my room, and kneeled on the floor, thinking of nothing at all. For a while, I was still aware of the sounds of the household. Slowly, they faded from my consciousness as I slid into a state of contemplation.
Riku-san had explained to me that my mind was the greatest weapon I possessed.
“Your mind must be focused,” he said. “If your thoughts are distracted, how can you expect your body to function as it needs to?”
That made sense. I watched him as he sat cross-legged on the beaten earth of the dojo.
“Sit,” he instructed. I slid to the ground in front of him. “What do you hear?”
“The birds singing. The wind.”
“What do you see?”
“The sky. Clouds. You, master.”
“Close your eyes.”
I obeyed instantly.
“Remember how you felt when I first deprived you of your senses? You were afraid.”
I nodded. I had not been afraid—I had been terrified.
“But once you understood it was necessary, the fear left you.” It was a statement, not a question. “Now, you must find that darkness and silence within you again. Close your senses to everything outside you. Be still, within and without.”
I stared into space, reaching for tranquility. The transition was so gradual, I barely realized I had left my earthly body behind me until Riku-san spoke again.
“Your body is asleep,” he said softly. “All earthly desires and stimulations are gone. Now, you will fight in your mind. I am moving toward you.”
Although I was staring at his body, which remained still as death, my mind told me that he had stood up and was facing me. I, also, was on my feet.
His hand shot out to grasp my robe. I slid away effortlessly and countered with my open hand in his face. There was contact, but I felt nothing. We moved quickly, but I never lost my breath. After an eternity, Riku-san slid to a halt and bowed deeply to me.
My body jumped as if the earth had moved beneath me. I blinked, surprised to find the sun was fully in my eyes. It had been early morning when we had begun, and the sun had barely been over the horizon. I felt the strangest sensation of something slipping away from me as my mind was forced back into the bondage of my body.
Riku-san was seated exactly as I had seen him last.
“You do not need to divorce your mind from your body each time you fight.” He smiled. “You are a good enough warrior to overcome most opponents. You will know yourself when it is necessary, Keiko-chan. And when that day arrives, prepare yourself. Fight your opponent first in your mind. Do it until you are certain that you can anticipate every move they can make. When you can achieve that, you cannot be defeated.”
And now that day had come when a worthy opponent was before me. I knew that if Yo won, he would demand that I become his lover. I fully intended that it should happen, but on my terms, not his. I had been virtually a slave for every hour of my life so far. Whatever happened, I was determined I would never be a slave to any man again. I was onna-bugeisha. If the bargain was on Yo’s terms, I was not fit to bear the title with honor. And without it, I would
be nothing at all. I was not prepared to let that happen.
With my body and my mind relaxed, tranquility flooded my body. Then, and only then, did I picture Yo in my imagination. We fought in the dojo I knew so well. I saw our battle so many times in my head, each time slightly differently. Finally, I yawned and stretched and eased the crick in my neck. I realized with surprise that I was hungry; when I glanced at the window, I saw dusk was falling. I had sat for the entire day in meditation.
And it was not enough. I was still not confident that I had been the winner of my imaginary contest. And if I could not visualize my victory, then I knew it would not happen. I clapped my hands for food and tea. I ate half of a bowl of rice and some pickled vegetables and then lay on my futon and slept. I did not dream of Yo, but of Riku-san, telling me with a sigh in his voice that I had forgotten something. I puzzled for hours the next day, trying to grasp what I had forgotten, but it would not come. Neither would my mind settle to meditation. I was too on edge, too deep in anticipation.
On the second day, I went to see Emiko. I found my sister brimming with glee.
“Guess what!” she said without preamble as soon as I entered her room. “Reo-san is back!”
I had often heard the phrase “my blood ran cold,” but I had never understood what it meant. At that moment, I did. I was chilled from head to foot. I spoke without thinking about my words.
“Is he? Why are you so pleased? After what he did to you, I would have thought he was the last man on earth you wanted to see.”
“Oh, that!” Emiko tossed her lovely head. “It was all a misunderstanding. I see that now. He obviously drew back from me because I was too keen. An iki man like Reo needs to be the one who does the chasing. I’ve got it all worked out. This time, I’ll be indifferent to him. He can crawl to me.”
“Reo’s here? In this house?” The effrontery of the man! How dare he show his face here? No matter. He would be sorry he had ever laid eyes on Emiko. No matter what the silly woman thought she felt for him.