The Assassin's Touch

by Laura Joh Rowland

  She bounced Masahiro, trying to comfort him, while she awkwardly wiped her tears on her sleeve. “Neither did I,” she said in a broken whisper. “Please forgive me.”

  Sano put his arms around her, and she leaned against him. He felt her body quake as she wept. “I’ll forgive you if you forgive me.”

  “I shouldn’t have said such a terrible thing to you,” she said between sobs. “I’m so frightened and upset and worried, but that’s no excuse.”

  “I’ve spent all day running from one place to another, trying to catch the assassin and failing, but that’s no excuse either,” Sano said. “Let’s call ourselves even.”

  If he had only one more day to live, he didn’t want them to waste it on ripping each other to shreds. Reiko nodded; her eyes brimmed with love, remorse, and apprehension. Together they put Masahiro to bed, then went to their chamber. Sano collapsed on the bed that the servants had laid out. His body and mind ached with fatigue. He tried not to think about the long night’s work ahead of him, nor to imagine how it would feel if death struck him down tomorrow and what would happen to his family.

  Reiko knelt beside him. “I’ll stop looking for Yugao. That will be one fewer problem for you to worry about.”

  “No.” Sano couldn’t accept her peace offering. “I’ve changed my mind. I think you should keep looking.” She needed something to distract her from their worries. “It’s the right thing to do.” There was a bright side to every dark situation, Sano realized. If he died tomorrow, Hoshina’s scheming couldn’t hurt him.

  “Are you sure?”

  He heard hope in Reiko’s voice and saw disbelief in her eyes. “Yes.” Although he had his hands too full with his own investigation to care much about hers, Sano wanted to make amends to Reiko. “How did your search go today?” he said, pretending interest.

  She smiled, thankful. “I found Yugao’s childhood friend Tama.” As Reiko related what Tama had said about the family history that she believed had led Yugao to murder, Sano tried to listen, but his fatigue overwhelmed him; he dozed. ’Tama told me of a place where Yugao might have gone. It’s an inn called the Jade Pavilion.”

  A faint chord chimed in Sano’s memory. He snapped awake. Why did that name seem familiar?

  “I came home to see if I could borrow some of your troops to go there with me and help me capture Yugao, if she’s there,” Reiko continued.

  Sano bolted upright because he knew where he’d seen the Jade Pavilion mentioned. He fumbled under his sash and brought out the list that General Isogai had given him.

  “Is something wrong?” Reiko said, puzzled. “What are you doing?”

  Excitement coursed through Sano as he ran his finger down the characters on the paper. “I think the killer is one of Yanagisawa’s elite troops. Seven of them are still at large.” The words “Jade Pavilion” leapt out at him. “This is a list of places they’ve been known to frequent in the past. Here’s the inn where you think Yugao is.”

  He and Reiko stared at the list, then at each other, in amazement that their separate investigations had suddenly meshed. Reiko’s expression sharpened. “Yugao had a lover. He was a samurai. They used to meet at the inn. Do you think... ?”

  “No. He can’t be the Ghost,” Sano said even as his heart began to race. That Reiko had stumbled onto a link to the assassin was too much to hope for.

  “Why not?” Eagerness lit Reiko’s eyes. “Tama described him as a dangerous man. She saw him almost kill somebody who bumped into him by accident. Doesn’t that sound like the kind of person who could be your assassin?”

  Sano cautioned himself against wishful thinking. “That description could fit hundreds of samurai. There’s no reason to believe he and Yugao are connected. How would a hininwoman and an officer from Yanagisawa’s elite squadron have become lovers? How would they have even met?”

  “Yugao wasn’t always an outcast. She met her man at a teahouse near Ryogoku Hirokoji, where her father once owned a carnival.” Reiko studied the list. “The teahouse isn’t named here, but the army doesn’t know everything. It still could have been a place frequented by Yanagisawa’s troops.”

  “It could,” Sano said, letting Reiko persuade him despite the lack of evidence. “What else did you find out about this mystery man? His name, I hope?”

  “He called himself ’Jin.’ He talked in a whisper. It sounded like a cat hissing.” Reiko added, “Yugao had relations with many men. The Ghost could have been the one that Tama says she fell in love with.”

  “At any rate, the Jade Pavilion is worth checking.” Sano rose from the bed. “It might as well be the next place I look for the Ghost.”

  Reiko accompanied Sano to the door. “I just knew there was a reason I had to keep on with my investigation,” she said, sparkling with excitement. “If it leads you to the Ghost, I hope that will make up for the trouble it’s caused you.”

  “If I capture him at the Jade Pavilion,” Sano said, “I’ll never stand in the way of anything you want to do ever again.”

  He half expected Reiko to ask to go with him, but she didn’t. She must know that if the Ghost was there, he would say it was too dangerous for her and she would be in the way; and she didn’t want another argument even though she’d turned up what seemed to be the vital clue. She only said, “I can’t wait to know what happens!”

  “You’ll be the first to know.”

  They embraced in ardent farewell. Reiko said, “If Yugao is there—”

  “We’ll capture her for you,” Sano said as he strode outside toward the barracks to fetch Detectives Marume, Fukida, and a small army of troops. He felt energized by hope; his fatigue evaporated into the mist. He could even believe that he might live beyond tomorrow.

  Chapter 25

  A wavering flame burned in a lamp inside a room whose shutters were closed tight against the world. Thunder rumbled; rain spattered on the roof outside. On a mattress spread on the floor, Yugao and her lover lay naked together. He was on his back, his lean, muscular body straight and rigid. She embraced him, her breasts pressed against his side, her leg flung over his, her hair fanned over them. Their bare flesh shone golden in the lamplight. Yugao tenderly caressed his face. Adoration welled in her heart as her fingers trailed over the knife-edged bones of his brow, cheeks, and jaw. Her touch worshipped his mouth, so firm and stern. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, her samurai hero.

  During her days in jail, and the years in the hinin settlement, she’d prayed that she would see him again. The memory of him had sustained her through all her hardships. Now she gazed yearningly into his eyes. Their darkness and depth made her dizzy, as though she were falling into them. But they looked through her, beyond her. She felt distant from him even while touching him, for he kept his spirit hidden in some faraway place. He hardly seemed to notice she was here.

  A familiar loneliness saddened Yugao. Anxious to provoke some response from him, some sign that he cared for her, she pressed her mouth to the scars that etched his chest, souvenirs of countless swordfights. She teased his nipples with her tongue and felt them harden. As she moved her mouth downward, he stirred. She fondled his manhood, which swelled and curved upward; he breathed a sigh of pleasure. Desire for him quickened in Yugao, flushing her skin, tingling in her breasts, flooding her loins with heat. But when she took him into her mouth, he roughly pushed her away. He sat up and grabbed the short sword he kept by the bed. He held the blade upright in front of her face.

  “Make love to it,” he ordered.

  His voice was a hiss that reminded Yugao of ice sizzling on fire, of a snake readying to strike. His throat had been injured in combat and that was why he couldn’t talk except in a whisper. Yugao had heard the story from his comrades, in the teahouse where they’d met; he never told her anything personal about himself. Now his stare commanded her to do his bidding. The steel blade flickered with reflections of the lamp’s flame, as though it were alive. Yugao knew this ritual, which they’d enacted many times. He
didn’t like her to touch him, and he avoided touching her as much as possible. Always he preferred that she pay her attentions to his weapon rather than his body during sex. She was afraid to ask why because he might get angry, but she must obey him, as she always had.

  She knelt and ran her fingers up and down the cold, smooth blade. Her face, pitiful with her need for his approval, was mirrored in the shiny steel. Arousal smoldered in his eyes while he watched. His chest heaved as his breathing grew fast and shallow. Her own desire raged like flames inside her. She leaned over, extended her tongue, and slowly licked the blade from bottom to top, along its flat side. Then she licked down the razor-sharp edge. Yugao trembled with fear of cutting herself, but she saw his manhood rise erect. His enjoyment was hers. She moaned with the thrill of it.

  Thunder cracked outside, shaking the floor, startling Yugao off balance. Her tongue slipped. She gasped as the blade sliced a tiny cut on her tongue; she tasted salty blood. She reared back on her heels. Her hand flew to her mouth. The sight of her wounded and in pain excited him to a frenzy. He shoved her down on the bed. Holding the sword across her throat, he thrust himself between her legs.

  Yugao cried out with pleasure and terror as he moved inside her and the blade pressed against her skin. He knew he didn’t have to force her; she would let him do anything to her that he wanted. But he needed violence to be satisfied. He would cut her if he chose. He had in the past. Even as she clutched him to her and heaved up to meet his thrusts, she screamed and cringed away from the sword. His face strained and contorted while he moved faster and harder. His gaze locked onto hers.

  She whirled into the black vortex of his eyes. Flashes of memory illuminated the darkness. She was a young girl in her family home. Her father lay atop her; he clamped his hand over her mouth to stifle her cries as they coupled. In the morning there was blood on her bed. Her mother cursed and beat her.

  But those days, and those people who had hurt her, were gone. She clung tight to her lover. He flung back his head, shouted, and thrust deep into her as he released. Her own release shuddered through her in paroxysms of rapture. Wild, incoherent cries burst from Yugao as she felt her spirit touch his at last.

  Too soon, even before her sensations faded, he rose from her. He knelt on the floor across the room, his back to Yugao, while she lay drenched with their sweat and shivering in the sudden chill of his absence. She crept over to him and laid a tentative hand on his shoulder. He gazed into space, ignoring her.

  “What are you thinking?” she said.

  A long moment passed before he said, “Coming here was a mistake.”

  The reproachful tone in his whisper stung Yugao. “Why? It’s quiet and comfortable and private. We have everything we need.” She gestured at the bedding, the soft floor cushions, the brazier filled with coal, the bundle of food, the jars of water and wine.

  “It’s not safe here. And I’d be better off without you.” He shrugged her hand off him.

  Yugao had a sudden memory of her father fondling her sister Umeko on his lap while she watched, jealous and deserted. “But we’re meant to be together,” Yugao said, wounded by his attitude. “Fate has reunited us.”

  He laughed, a sound like metal rasping against metal. “This kind of fate will get us both killed. You’re a wanted criminal. The police will be looking for you. You’ll lead my enemies straight to me.”

  “No, I won’t!” Yugao was distressed because he thought her such a liability while she loved him more than anything else in the world. “I’ve been careful. They’ll never find us here. I would never put you in danger. I love you. I’ll do anything to protect you.”

  She would hide him, feed him, and give herself to him no matter how he treated her. She was his slave despite everything she knew about him.

  When she’d met him at the teahouse, she’d set her heart on winning his love. He was different from the other men there. Most of them had nicer manners than he did, but she cared nothing for them. She could lure them with one smile, one seductive glance. The weak, stupid fools! But he ignored her efforts to attract him. This made Yugao want him in a way that she’d never wanted any man. For the first time in her life she felt physical desire. She grew determined to have him. Whenever he came to the teahouse, she flirted with him for all she was worth. Sometimes she would take another man out to the alley, hoping to make him jealous. Nothing worked.

  He usually traveled on foot instead of riding a horse as most samurai of his rank did, and once, when he left the teahouse, she ran after him. He’d stopped, turned on her, and said, “Get lost. Leave me alone.”

  But that had only whetted Yugao’s desire. The next time she followed him, she took care that he wouldn’t notice her among the crowds in the streets. She spent days trailing him all over Edo. From a safe distance she watched him meet and talk furtively with strange men. She was curious to know what he did, and one night she found out.

  It was a cold, wet autumn evening. Yugao followed him through the mist that hung over the city, along roads almost deserted, to a neighborhood near the river. He’d stopped down the block from a brightly lit teahouse and taken cover in the doorway of a shop closed for the night. She’d hidden herself around the corner. Shivering in the chill dampness, she watched him watch the teahouse. Customers came and went. Hours passed; then two samurai emerged from the teahouse and walked down the street past Yugao.

  He slipped out of the doorway and stole after them.

  Yugao’s heart beat fast because she knew something exciting was about to happen. The mist was so thick she could hardly see to follow him and the two samurai. They were shadows that dissolved even though they were but twenty paces ahead. Their voices drifted back to Yugao. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but their tones sounded urgent, frightened. Their steps quickened to a run. Yugao hurried forward, but soon she lost them. Then she heard a muffled cry, which she followed to an alley between two warehouses. She peered inside.

  A breeze blowing through the alley from the river dispelled the mist. A body lay crumpled on the ground. Farther down the alley, two figures grappled and flailed in a violent embrace. Yugao heard a scream of agony. One figure fell with a thud. The other stood motionless. Yugao gaped in shock. He’d been stalking those samurai, and he’d just killed them both!

  Now he saw her. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  Yugao realized that he meant to kill her so she could never tell anyone what he’d done. But she didn’t run away. His strength and daring awed her. Her desire for him burgeoned into a rampant hunger. Almost without conscious thought, Yugao moved toward him and opened her robes, baring her body to him.

  He let the sword drop. He seized her and took her, against the wall of the warehouse, while his victims lay dead nearby. The brutality of the killings, and the danger that they would be caught, roused them both to a savage passion. For the first time Yugao experienced pleasure with a man. She didn’t care that he was a murderer. As they reached their climax, she screamed in triumph because she’d finally won him.

  The next day, she asked him why he’d killed those men.

  “They were the enemy,” was all he would say.

  Later she heard about the murders from gossip at the teahouse. The two samurai had been retainers of Lord Matsudaira. He had issued an order that anyone with information about the murders should come forward. Yugao didn’t mind that her lover was wanted for such an important crime. She admired him all the more because he was taking on such a powerful enemy as Lord Matsudaira. She didn’t care why. She liked that he fought the people who’d wronged him. She gloried in having a man so brave.

  But it soon became clear that she didn’t have him. After that night, they met often, always at cheap inns around Edo, and he’d taught her sex rituals he liked, but outside the bedchamber he ignored her the same as before. He never showed any affection to her. Desperate for his love, Yugao had taken extreme action.

  What she’d done had infuriated him rather than pleas
ed him. He’d dropped her and vanished like smoke. Yugao was devastated. Then more calamity struck. Her father was demoted to hinin. The family had moved to the settlement. She’d often gone looking for him, but he was nowhere to be found.

  The war had turned her luck.

  A month after the battle had ended, Yugao awakened in the middle of the night to hear a voice outside the window, hissing her name. It was the voice she’d longed to hear. She jumped out of bed and ran outside. She found him lying on the ground, bleeding from serious wounds, half dead. Yugao never knew what had happened to him or how he’d found her; he never said. What mattered was that he’d returned to her. She took him in and put him to bed in the lean-to where her sister Umeko entertained men. Umeko wasn’t pleased. “That’s my room,” she said. “Get that sick, filthy hoodlum out of it!”

  Their father took Umeko’s side; he always did. “If we’re caught sheltering a fugitive, we’ll get in trouble,” he told Yugao. “I’m going to report him to the police.”

  “If you do, I’ll tell them you haven’t stopped committing incest,” Yugao retorted. “They’ll make your sentence longer.”

  Her threat kept him and Umeko silent. That whole winter, she’d hidden her lover and nursed him back to health. When he was well, he began going out at night. He never said why, but Yugao knew he must be continuing his war against Lord Matsudaira. Sometimes he returned the next morning; sometimes he stayed away for days. Yugao waited in fear that he wouldn’t come back. She was terrified that he’d been killed. The last time, after he’d been gone a month, she went looking for him, in the places they used to meet. Finally she found him, but he was angry rather than glad to see her. Although she’d wept at his coldness, he’d spurned her: “I have work to do. You’ll be in my way. If I ever need you again, I’ll come to you.”

  “Please let me stay with you,” she’d begged, “at least for a little while.”

  She’d undressed and tried to seduce him. He’d drawn his sword and sliced off her left nipple. As she screamed in horror at the bloody wound, he’d shouted, “Go away, and don’t come back, or I’ll kill you next time!”