by India Millar
16
Footprints stand out black
Against the snow. Where do they
Go when the snow thaws?
Akira was gone again when I awoke. He had disappeared as silently as he had arrived. The maids were amazed when I told them that he had been home. They might have thought I had been dreaming if some of his clothes had not disappeared and they had not found the money he had left in the kitchen for them.
I was happy that he had gone. I hated myself for taking enjoyment in his body. I felt that I had betrayed Ken and sat in the bath for hours, scrubbing every trace of Akira away from me. I knew the maids were looking at me curiously, but I didn’t care. It wouldn’t happen again, I vowed. Ever.
The house seemed to hold its breath with Akira gone. No matter where I went, I felt his presence. The gossip the maids passed on became even more precious to me. The unrest was getting worse, they said. Some houses in the Floating World had been set on fire. The gaijin had not been attacked recently, but that was probably because many of them had taken to wearing guns when they walked the street. In fact, a yakuza who had dared to try and rob a gaijin had been shot and badly wounded. The yakuza had been taken away by his peers, and nobody was sure if he was alive or dead.
“And the man who was standing guard over us?” I asked casually. “Is he still to be seen?”
They shook their heads. Not since Akira had been back. He seemed to have vanished. I hid my disappointment, sure that it was Akira who had sent Ken after all. Life was suddenly bitter. Even Kiku annoyed me, with her constant demands for attention. I banished her to the garden or asked one of the maids to take her for a walk when she whined, and then I felt guilty and smothered the bewildered puppy with kisses to make up.
Had the fox spirit gaijin been seen, I asked? The maid shook her head firmly. No, and she was glad of it.
And then, there was nothing.
Overnight, it seemed, the Floating World returned to its normal business. There was no unusual violence. No fights between rival yakuza, or at least no more than normal. The gaijin walked the streets in peace once again.
But I worried. Something was wrong. I was on edge, constantly expecting Akira to come back. Dreading his return, but still waiting for it. Even so I was shocked when he did appear. Last time he had crept in alone. Now, he returned with a gang of his yakuza, banging open the front door and filling the entire house with their laughter and shouts.
Neither Ken nor Bigger were amongst them, but Ito—the yakuza he had left at the Hidden House—was.
The maids scurried to provide sake for the men. As the flasks emptied, the noise levels grew. I smiled until my lips were stiff, wondering at the same time if I was going to be called upon to entertain all of them. But at least Akira spared me that indignity.
Abruptly, he was bored. I saw it on his face as his grey eyes grew cold. He sneered at a supposedly witty comment from one of the men. He drained his sake at a gulp and then held out his cup for more. Two of the maids literally pushed each other aside to pour for him.
“Enough.” Akira’s voice wasn’t loud, but it stopped the party instantly. “Here.” He reached into his robe and found a purse, which he tossed to Ito. “There’s plenty in there for all of you. Go out into the Floating World. Spend. Enjoy yourselves. Let everybody know you are here.”
The men jerked to their feet, grinning.
“And you, Ito.” The yakuza bowed quickly. “No going back to the Hidden House for you tonight. Get out and find yourself a courtesan with the rest of them. Bigger and Ken can look after the Hidden House for tonight.”
Ito bowed, but I was sure he looked unhappy. I almost grinned as I wondered if Sute had made a conquest there!
The men jostled out, laughing and joking amongst themselves. Akira said nothing as the maids cleared away, hardly able to pick up the cups and flasks, they were so busy bowing to him.
“Bring me a pipe. And plenty of opium.” He turned to me politely. “Would you care to take a pipe with me, Mineko-chan?”
I shook my head. Apart from Carpi, who had taken opium to relieve the pain of her illness, none of us geisha smoked opium—unless, of course the patron insisted—for just the same reason we never drank as much sake as the patrons. We needed our wits about us.
When his tray complete with pipe, opium, and burner had been delivered, Akira stretched. He resembled some great cat, loosening every muscle in his body. Preparing to pounce on his prey? I hoped not.
“Will you prepare my pipe for me, Mineko?”
I rolled the opium carefully, inserting it into the pipe bowl and then heating it over the small flame until the plug of opium began to turn black and sticky and give off intensely aromatic fumes. I took one drag to ensure that it was burning correctly, and then handed the pipe to Akira.
He inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in his lungs for a long time before he exhaled.
“Ah. That is better. It seems a long time since I have had the luxury of truly being able to relax.”
I said nothing, but watched him curiously. Akira had taken a great deal of sake earlier. He could hold his drink, none better, but I did wonder what effect the opium would have on top of the alcohol. Akira drew in the fragrant smoke again, and then bent his finger to tell me to move closer to him. Once I was at his side, he grabbed my hair and put his lips tightly over my mouth, breathing out so that he forced the opium smoke into my lungs. I coughed and wriggled free as soon as I felt Akira’s grasp loosen. He sat back and grinned at me, and I realized I had been right. The opium and alcohol had left him more relaxed than I had ever seen him. I risked a glance at his face, and saw that his pupils were huge, dominating his grey eyes.
Perhaps it was the opium he had forced me to take, but I wondered if there was any way I might take advantage of this mellow Akira? Find some answers to questions that were haunting me. I giggled, and he laughed with me.
“Another pipe, Mineko-chan. You were greedy and took most of that one.”
I prepared the pipe carefully, hiding a smile when I saw that Akira was watching me intently, obviously wondering if the hot residue of opium would hurt me when I couldn’t be bothered to reach for the scraper and scratched it out with my finger instead.
“Shame you’re not a man.” He propped himself on his elbow to see me better. “How I could use somebody with a gift like yours! Tell me, Mineko, do you think there are more people out there who cannot feel pain, or are you unique?”
“I’ve never found anybody the same,” I admitted. “But I think there must be, somewhere. Perhaps some of the gaijin are like me?”
Akira made a gesture of disdain, flicking his hand to one side. I noticed that the gesture was clumsy, lacking his usual grace. I placed the pipe between his lips quickly and watched as he dragged the aromatic smoke down.
His eyelids were beginning to close. I was furious with myself. Had he taken too much and was already sliding into dreams? But I hadn’t reckoned with Akira’s levels of resistance. He put the pipe down carefully and leaned on his elbow.
“You’re a good girl, Midori,” he said dreamily. Perhaps the opium fumes were getting to me as well, for it took me a moment to realize he had called me Midori. I shut my drooping mouth with a snap, forcing a smile on my lips.
He was staring at the ceiling, and I decided to take my chance.
“Are you pleased I came back to you, Akira-san?”
“Ah, I always knew you would, Kazhua-chan.” Kazhua—Green Leaf—Akira’s love name for Midori. All my doubts vanished. It was only the opium and sake, but for the moment he really did think I was Midori. “I knew it was only a matter of time before you got tired of that milksop Danjuro and wanted a real man. Not one who was so obsessed with the kabuki that you took second place. Why did it take you so long to come back to me?”
“I was far, far away, Akira-chan.” Would Midori ever have called Akira by the affectionate name of “chan?” I doubted it, but I had to press my advantage. “Danjuro took me away from you
, but I’m back now.”
He exhaled on a long breath, and I smelled the sweetness of the opium on his breath. For a moment, I dithered. Too much opium and he would fall into dreams from which he would not awake until morning. Too little, and the enchantment would fall from his eyes and I would be Mineko again, not Midori. I thought I saw a look of puzzlement cross his face, and made my mind up quickly. I presented the pipe to his lips and allowed him a short inhalation of the fragrant smoke before I took it away.
He pouted like a baby denied the breast and sighed, and I closed my eyes in relief.
“Things have changed so much since I left. What has been happening in the Floating World, Akira-chan?”
“Ah. So much has changed, Kazhua. My enemies are at my throat. I have done nothing at all, just tried to take advantage of the trade the gaijin have bought to Japan. But there are those who are very jealous of my status. They are trying to bring me down.”
“Ah, but you’re not going to let them do that, Akira-chan. Not you. What have they done to you?”
“They’ve stolen my world, Kazhua. Taken over my interests in the brothels. Persuaded the richer merchants that they can protect them better than I can. They think they’ve beaten me, that I’m going to kowtow at their feet, but they’re wrong. I’m not down yet. I’m going to show them, Kazhua. Very soon, they’re going to learn what it means to try and injure the greatest yakuza family in Edo.”
His voice rose to a shriek. His eyes were staring, his mouth working. I daren’t give him any more opium, so took him in my arms instead, pushing his head against my breasts—as much to hide my face from him as anything—and rocked him back and forth like a distressed child.
“Of course you’ll win, Akira-chan. They are fools. Nothing but fools.”
I could hear the pulse of his blood pounding against my breasts.
“I have lost so much, Kazhua. They’ve taken so much from me. But I have enough left to fight back. I’ll show them they can’t destroy me. I still have the Hidden House,” he whispered. “And my men. At least they are loyal.”
I licked my lips. The Hidden House. Very well. Akira had mentioned it, so I would take my chance to ask.
“I have heard that Auntie has been very ill. Is that so?”
“Aye. She had a seizure of the brain. Your little friend Mineko nursed her devotedly, or so I thought. But it seems now as if she took her chance to put a spell on Auntie. Bigger told me that she is no longer herself. She is quiet and gentle. She doesn’t shout at the geisha, never hits them with her cane. Now, she smiles at them indulgently, as if they are her children. They are not afraid of her anymore.”
His words stopped me in my tracks. I had done nothing at all to Auntie. Was her strange behavior something to do with the injury to her brain? Before I could protest, Akira spoke again.
“My poor Hana. She thinks she is young again. Perhaps the gods have been good to her after all.”
I seized my chance. It was now or never.
“Akira-chan, why did you put your mark on Auntie? On Hana, I mean?”
“My mark? I put no mark on Hana.”
I frowned. I had seen his dragon, tattooed in faded colors on the back of her neck.
“But she bears your dragon. The same as you put on…” I bit my lip. I had nearly said “on Midori!” I hurried on quickly, hoping Akira hadn’t noticed the pause. “The same as you put on me.”
“Ah.” Akira tapped his finger on the end of his nose. “Didn’t I tell you that you were the only one I had honored with my dragon? With the symbol of my family? And now you think I lie to you? Hana bears the dragon on her back, just as you do, but I didn’t put it there. My father did.”
I waited. Akira grinned at me, waiting for me to ask. I gave in.
“Your father knew Hana?”
“She was his courtesan.”
He spoke as if I had asked a foolish question, but I was so surprised I could do nothing but goggle at him. Auntie? Auntie had once been young and beautiful enough to be courtesan to the head of the greatest yakuza in Edo? Truly, time was never the friend of any woman!
“She was his favorite,” Akira spoke dreamily. “I remember when I was a child, she was very beautiful and very spirited. She came from a good family, and my father had to steal her from them because her father would have nothing to do with him no matter how much money he offered for her. Hana ran away with him in the end, and of course her family disowned her after that. Father put our mark on her as a reward for her courage.”
Auntie? That dried up old stick of a woman had had enough beauty to capture a man like Akira’s father and enough spirit to leave her family behind for him?
“Hana was always very gentle with me. Very kind.” Akira’s voice was soft, and I had to look at his face to make sure that it was him who was speaking rather than some stray spirit who had taken advantage of his state to take over his body. “My father loved her, I think. She had his child, but it died when it was no more than a baby. Perhaps that was why he chose her to be my wet nurse, so she could still suckle his baby. When father died, I promised I would look after her. I knew she would be happy keeping you girls in the Hidden House in order. That’s why I gave it to her. That and the Green Tea House.”
My mouth opened and closed, but I could find no words. Auntie had been Akira’s wet nurse? His father’s lover? And all those years, none of us who passed through the Hidden House had ever guessed.
“I’m tired, Kazhua-chan.” His voice was plaintive. He snuggled down into the futon, dragging me with him. “You must be very careful. My enemies are very close now. In a few days, everything will be finished, one way or another. You’ll stay with me, no matter what happens?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
In seconds, he was asleep on his back, his mouth wide.
17
The blossom that falls
From the tree cannot return.
But the tree still blooms.
I was not at all surprised to find Akira gone when I awoke. A lesser man would still have been asleep, dreaming opium dreams, but not Akira. I knew from long experience with patrons who had taken one pipe too many that he would not remember what he had told me. That must be so—I was still alive!
But he had given me so much to think about.
I shrugged away his worries about the rival yakuza gangs. That was too big, too much out of my world to worry me. But Auntie! The revelation that she had been his wet nurse and his father’s courtesan left me reeling. It explained so very much, but at the same time was so startling that I still found it difficult to believe. And I still didn’t understand at all what the fox spirit gaijin was doing coming here with Kiku, why she had stolen Midori’s combs. Was it all somehow tied in with Akira’s problems?
The thoughts ran around my head until it felt as if I had a tight band strapped around my forehead. But I was still no nearer to an answer.
Kiku the puppy didn’t help at all. She was unsettled. She whined constantly to go out, but as soon as the screen was closed behind her, she wanted to come back in again. I sensed that the maids were unsettled as well. They no longer brought me gossip. They seemed reluctant to leave the house at all. When I asked, the maid avoided my eyes.
“There are strange men in the streets,” my spy said reluctantly. “Not Akira-san’s men. These men frighten us. They look at us and smile. Only not nice smiles at all. We’re sure that they follow us when we go out on errands. And the merchants where we shop don’t welcome us anymore. They take our money and get us out of the shop as quickly as they can. We’re frightened, mistress,” she blurted.
Their fear was contagious. I found myself sitting in the garden, alert for any sound. The garden—hidden as it was behind the high stone wall that fronted the street—was always tranquil, but I became aware that it was even quieter than usual, almost as if the whole of the Floating World was avoiding Akira’s house. When a bird sang nearby, I jumped.
Things became so bad, I began to wish that Akir
a would come back.
I found it difficult to sleep, tossing about until my futon was a wrinkled mess in the morning. I walked about the house, spending hours in Midori’s room, examining every drawer, every closet for some sign that something had changed, that some further signal had been left for me. But there was nothing. Whenever I was at the front of the house, I ran my fingers over the stone of the wall, understanding at last why Akira’s house was built so differently from any other dwelling in Edo.
It was a fortress, designed to withstand an attack by an enemy.
Again and again I thought about running away. I even stood at the door with my hand on the lock. But what was the point? Where could I go? To the Hidden House and face Bigger? No doubt Ken would do his best to protect me from him, but would his best be good enough? I hated myself for thinking it, but I wondered if Ken’s courage would fail. If he would just stand back and let Bigger take his revenge on me.
And if not the Hidden House, then where would I go? I had nowhere that would welcome me. Nowhere I could find shelter. In any event, if Akira’s enemies really were haunting the streets near us, how far would I get before I fell into their hands? And if Akira won the war, he would surely find me, and the thought of his revenge made me shudder.
I had no option but to stay, caged like some helpless animal. All I could do was wait, with no clear idea of what I was waiting for.
Kiku had gone to sleep at my side, snuggled up to me. Now, she was whimpering. I put my hand out groggily to pet her, and came fully awake with shock when, instead of cuddling up to me, she bit me hard with her sharp little teeth.
I was sure I had only just fallen asleep, but there was a light flickering in the room, far brighter than either lamp or moonlight. I stared at my hand in the strange light and was amazed to see that the puncture marks from Kiku’s teeth were oozing blood. Blood that looked black, not red, in the strange light.