by A. L. Knorr
"Any last minute tips?" I said, my hands and feet clammy from nerves.
"Try not to let your head bob up and down when you walk, take smaller steps," she lowered her voice as we passed two men standing on a patch of grass and smoking cigarettes. They nodded to us and Chiyoko lowered her eyes and her chin toward them. I did my best to mimic her.
I shortened up my steps and tried to make my gait smooth. "Like this?"
"Better," she said. "Don't make any fast movements. Everything should be slow and graceful. When you have to open a door, always go to your knees first. Slide the door open, get up, go through, kneel again, and slide the door closed."
I closed my eyes, committing her words to memory. "Okay, what else?"
"Always serve them first. Whatever they're drinking, make sure their glass is always full and don't take a drink of anything until they've had a sip first. Don't be loud, no matter how much they make you drink."
"Right." I hadn't thought about that. Of course there was going to be alcohol here, and of course I was going to have to drink. I had never had more than a few glasses of hot sake in my life. At less than a hundred pounds and with no tolerance whatsoever, having my judgement clouded by alcohol was a very real danger.
"If the conversation stalls, suggest a drinking game," Chiyoko said. "They love drinking games."
"Great." What was a drinking game?
We ascended the stone steps to the fortress and nodded to more men standing outside and chatting under the torches. Chiyoko lowered her voice even more. "Laugh at their jokes, but not too loud. Make them feel like you're falling in love with them. After dinner, I can guarantee you that a beautiful girl like you will be asked to go upstairs."
I swallowed hard. I wouldn't let it get that far.
She squeezed my arm. "I do not recommend that you say 'no.' They say you have a choice, obviously, but it’s the nature of this job to be a trap. If you do a good enough job making them feel like big men, they will want to take you to bed. If you say no, you risk insulting them." Her voice went right down to a whisper. "And that is not something I recommend you do in this company."
By the time we glided through the dark, expansive foyer of the castle, I was sweating like I'd just sprinted a mile. My heart was thudding so loudly I could hear it echoing off my wig and back into my eardrums. My hands were clammy and I wanted to scratch all the makeup off my face and cut the restrictive kimono off my body with the biggest pair of shears I could find. Regret soured in my mouth. What had I done? I should have found a way to explore the castle as a bird. Why had I chosen to disguise myself?
"Are you okay?" Chiyoko faced me just outside of a closed sliding door. The room on the other side of the door was filled with the sound of voices, traditional Japanese music, and cutlery and clinking glasses. The smells of fried fish, rice, and cooked vegetables filled the foyer.
"Yes," I said through numb lips.
"You'll be fine," she said, her white face seeming expressionless and ghostly in the gloom of the foyer.
She knelt at the door and I knelt behind her. She slid the door open and the noise of the party hit me in the chest. There was no turning back now. Chiyoko got up gracefully and passed through the open door. I followed her and mimicked her every move as she turned to face the door, knelt, and closed it.
Inside the door were four steps leading down to a large space filled with clusters of low tables. Women dressed like maiko glided about carrying trays of food and drinks, and they were distinguishable by the red paint on only their bottom lips. Both geisha, and Caucasian women in gorgeous dresses and high heels, mingled with men dressed in beautifully tailored suits. Chains glinted at the men’s necks, and thick rings brought attention to meaty fingers with portions missing from the knuckles.
At the end of the room, opposite the bar, three geisha danced gracefully to the music of the junanagen and koto, traditional Japanese instruments which were played by two more geisha. Each woman was resplendent in a brightly colored costume and obi-belt.
A few eyes assessed us from the din, but most people didn't notice the two new girls who had entered. I was painfully self-aware of the awkwardness of entering a party where I knew no one. Saxony would be able to navigate something like this like a pro, but I was a textbook introvert.
I followed Chiyoko to the bar at the back of the room, trying to look like I belonged there. A couple of men stood leaning against the bar and drinking beer. They straightened as we approached.
"Hideo," said Chiyoko, smiling and inclining her head. I almost gaped at her. Her voice had transformed. It dripped honey. "How lovely to see you again."
"The fragrant lily returns," said the taller man in the navy suit jacket. A long chain with thick links disappeared under his purple button-down shirt. He took Chiyoko's hand and kissed it. His eyes fell on me. "Who is your beautiful friend?"
"This is Yokana." Chiyoko put a hand on my shoulder. "This is her first year at Tai Island."
I smiled and dipped my chin. "A pleasure to meet you, Hideo."
Hideo introduced his friend as Ryota. Ryota was older, shorter, and broader than his friend. He didn't say anything when introduced, just dropped his chin with a jerk. His calculating eyes examined my face and hair.
"Have you eaten?" Chiyoko asked.
"No, in fact. A table has just come free. Would you like to join us?" Hideo asked.
"We would like nothing more," Chiyoko said.
The men led the way to a small square table near an open window.
I followed Chiyoko's lead in everything, seating myself the same way she did, and holding my hands in my lap.
Ryota had still said nothing and when Chiyoko fell into conversation with Hideo, I leaned forward and said the only thing that came to my mind. "Have you been here before, Ryota?"
"Many times." His voice was rough, like he had a sore throat. "This is our biggest yearly event, but there are many smaller meetings throughout the year..."
I listened politely as Ryota talked, but my mind was racing for a way to bring the conversation around to the fortress and where I might find the swords. Once he got talking, he didn't shut up, and I was grateful for not having to say much aside from polite expressions of interest.
Steaming food appeared before us, as well as drinks, and the four of us could have looked like old friends from the outside. I was too riddled with anxiety to have any appetite, but at urging from Ryota I took small bites. Everything smelled delicious, but it tasted like sawdust in my mouth. My sake cup was never empty and I followed Chiyoko's lead by taking very small but frequent sips. Every movement she made was feminine and delicate. I doubted I looked so natural playing the part of a geisha, but after a few cups of hot sake, I didn't care. My thinking grew a little fuzzy around the edges and as another cup was filled in front of me, I frowned. I was letting too much time go by. I had to get out of here.
Emboldened by the alcohol, I put a palm on Ryota's hand. "I have heard there are some wonderful samurai artifacts here in the fortress. Have you seen them?"
Ryota's cheeks were tinged with pink, but his eyes were clear as he smiled at me. "There are, and I have. Would you like to see them?"
I didn't have to fake the delight on my face. I put my palms together. "I would love to. Would you show me?"
"Of course. Why don’t we go now?" Ryota said, putting down his glass of beer. He leaned in conspiratorially. "That way we'll have them to ourselves."
My smile wavered at the idea of being alone with Ryota, but I wasn't about to pass up the chance. "All right."
Ryota excused us and Chiyoko's eyes found mine as I stood. I gave her a smile to reassure her that I was okay.
"See you later," she said.
"Enjoy," I responded. Ryota tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow and led me from the great room and into the foyer. We crossed the foyer and went up wide wooden stairs to a second level. The temperature was cooler up here, and the only source of light came from a few dim sconces on the wooden walls
.
"Raiden is quite a collector," Ryota said as we walked down a narrow hallway, our footsteps echoing. He gripped my cold hand in his warm one.
"So I've heard," I said.
He looked down at me. "Are you cold?"
"No, I'm fine, thank you," I said.
Ryota paused outside a sliding door and glanced around as though he wasn't sure if we were supposed to be here. He slid the door back and stood aside to let me enter first.
The room was an office. A large wooden desk dominated the space, with library shelves including cubby-holes filled with scrolls behind it. Two windows allowed moonlight into the room, but Ryota reached for a switch and an overhead chandelier dusted everything in a dim yellow glow.
"Wow," I said, stepping into the space, my eyes immediately flying around the room in search of my sword.
Two full suits of samurai armor on dummies stood in the corners behind the desk, and a rack on the desk carried two katanas and one wakizashi. Aside from these there were no other weapons in the room that I could see. My heart dropped when I stepped closer and realized that the short sword was not the one Daichi wanted. It was sheathed in dark brown leather.
"Aren't they beautiful," Ryota said, staring at one of the samurai helmets.
"They are," I agreed, but inside my mind was racing. There were no cupboards or closets in the small room, and while it was filled with other artifacts, maps, and artwork, strange metal devices I couldn't identify—my wakizashi was not here.
Ryota and I turned when a deep voice said, "I see we are not the first to have this idea."
We turned to see another yakuza man with a drop-dead gorgeous blond woman in a spectacular sparkling dress. A deep neckline showed off enormous pale breasts and the yellow light made the woman's hair look like spun gold. In sparkly black stilettos, she towered over her partner. The hem of her dress ended at mid-thigh and her long slender legs glimmered with shimmery moisturizer. She looked like she'd just walked off the Miss Universe stage.
"Oh, excuse us," she said in near-perfect Japanese. She hooked an arm under her partner's arm and turning toward the door as though to leave us alone. "I was just curious about the armor. We'll come back later."
The moment I saw the look on Ryota's face, that said he was in the presence of a goddess, my heart felt full of gratitude for her. "No, please," I said. "Come in, come in. We would be happy for your company." My voice radiated warmth and welcome, and even I had to admit, it sounded nothing like me.
"Yes, indeed," said Ryota, his eyes glued to the blonde’s bountiful chest. "Join us."
The couple hesitated, shared a look, and then came back inside the office.
"Isn't the armor spectacular," I said. "You must see the leather work; it’s breathtaking."
"Oh yes?" the woman said, brightening. She and her partner came to join Ryota and me standing near the dummy.
"Oh, you are right," she breathed. "Look at this detail," she said to the man with her, who made a sound of admiration.
I caught a look at Ryota's face and was satisfied to see that he was still staring at the statuesque woman, his jaw slightly slack.
The blonde and I chatted for a few minutes about the armor until even Ryota relaxed and the four of us began to feel like friends.
As Ryota was laughing at something she'd said, I leaned in and touched his elbow. "Excuse me, I just need to visit the washroom."
He patted my hand without sparing me a glance. "Of course, of course."
I backed away silently and slipped out into the hallway. I grinned to myself. Saved by a beauty contestant.
I continued down the empty hall, trying every door and finding most of them locked. The unlocked rooms consisted of a cleaning closet, a powder room, and an empty room with a chalkboard fastened to the wall. There were three rooms stacked with suspicious looking wooden crates, but no more artifacts to be found.
I took the stairs to the next level up but soon realized that the upper floors were not in use. A draft swept across the dusty floors and the walls up here were crumbling, the wood covered in spider webs. Here, the fortress looked as though it had not been touched in a hundred years. I went back down the stairs all the way to the foyer and took the hallway past the great room. I slowed my gait when a few couples came the other direction, keeping my eyes down and acting like I had every right to be wandering the castle alone.
I went through a door into a square courtyard. The moon illuminated an old well in the center. A scraggly garden reached its vines and hedges up the wooden arches to the second level. Circling the courtyard, I poked my head into the next door. Raucous laughter sent me scampering back to the courtyard and on into the next archway. Teetering on my ridiculous platform flipflops, I was sorely tempted to drop them down the well.
Hiding in the shadows, I waited until the laughing voices passed through the courtyard and went toward the great room. Sneaking back through the courtyard, I went through the arch and passed two sets of stairs going in opposite directions.
Just as I was wondering which direction to go in next, a voice startled me.
"Are you lost?"
My heart in my throat, I whirled to see a tall, barrel-chested man approaching. He wore a black suit and held a lit cigar between the first two fingers of his right hand. A quick scan showed no missing fingers. He walked slowly, leisurely, stopping close enough that I could smell his spicy cologne. His hair was clipped very short at the back and his white teeth gleamed. Painfully handsome and confident, he oozed menace like a black scorpion.
If this wasn’t Raiden, then I was a real geisha.
I put on a simpering laugh that I hoped didn't sound like I was just a bundle of nerves. "A little," I said. "I was admiring the fortress with Ryota and he had to slip away for a moment."
"Lucky for me," the man said, grinning like he meant it. "I was just going to a meeting and I was wishing for some feminine company. Won't you join me?"
He turned and held out an arm toward the empty hallway.
"Ryota should be—"
"I insist." His voice went dangerously soft.
"Certainly," I said, trying to sound like my voice was dripping honey but suspecting I sounded like a mouse caught in a trap instead.
He held out an elbow, and I took it.
"I'm Yokana," I said, as we walked further into the bowels of the fortress. I steadied myself as I waited for him to confirm that I had just accidentally stumbled upon the owner of the sword I needed to secure my freedom.
He clamped his cigar between his teeth and looked down at me. "Mr. Yukimura. Pleased to meet you."
16
"You are lucky, too," Raiden said as we turned down another hallway. The air grew cool and we passed through an arch into another small courtyard.
"Why is that?"
"We will be having a ritual tonight," he said as we took a set of stone stairs up an open tower staircase. "You will be able to experience what only very few guests get to see."
A bad feeling took seed deep in my belly. My mind clambered for a reason to dismiss myself without insulting him.
At the top of the stairs, we walked along a balcony with a wooden railing. Dim lights were visible through the thick paper walls to one side of us. Between every support beam, sturdy paper had been nailed in place to form walls. The pagoda roof’s wide overhang protected the paper from the elements. I hadn't seen paper walls since my childhood. A stab of longing for my family pierced my heart. What would they think if they saw me now?
“I love these old Imperial Army fortresses,” said Raiden, as we walked. “This one was built after the han system was abolished in 1871. It was an interesting year for Japan. The privilege once given only to the samurai was then open to every male between seventeen and forty in order to bolster the army defenses.”
“What privilege was that?” I asked, focusing more on keeping my breathing steady than the conversation with Raiden.
A door slid open as though someone standing at it knew Raiden was
coming, and as we stepped into the paper dojo, I couldn't help but gasp.
“The right to bear arms,” Raiden said.
Fastened to nearly every beam were racks holding weapons of all kinds. The long katanas the samurai were famous for, wakizashi, and the shaku—daggers and knives. Spiked metal knuckles, throwing stars, long blades with even longer handles called su yari, and iron claws I had heard Toshi refer to as tekko-kagi. These were not unlike weapons that Kito had manufactured with his ovens and molds. If my wakizashi was anywhere in this fortress, it was here.
"I'm bringing an unexpected guest," Raiden said lightheartedly to the more than dozen men who turned to face him. All talk was silenced. "I know you won't mind," he said, addressing an older looking man.
"As you say, Oyabun," answered the man with a drop of his chin.
Raiden strode into the circle of men and they parted as he passed through them. I stood at the door, still in shock, my eyes scanning the vast array of weaponry around me.
"Come," Raiden said.
Only when I became aware that every eye was on me did a realize he'd been speaking to me.
Raiden was already seated in an elaborately carved wooden chair that had been set up on a low platform, on a stage of sorts. There were no other seats in the room.
I crossed the room, sweat dripping down the back of my neck, in spite of the cool evening. Take small steps. Glide. Do nothing quickly.
"Sit here, beside me." Raiden gestured to a thin, dirty pillow on the floor.
I lowered myself to my knees as gracefully as I could manage. A difficult task in my layers and layers of kimono. I imagined this was what sausages felt like.
"Don't be anxious," he said quietly. He straightened and flicked his fingers at the older man he'd addressed earlier. "Come, Fujio. Let's hear your proposal and begin."
The crowd of men shifted to allow Fujio to come stand in front of Raiden. They stood off to the side, silently, hands clasped behind backs or arms crossed.
"I have committed offense to my Kumicho," said Fujio, addressing Raiden as 'Grandfather,' his eyes downcast to the floor in front of Raiden, "for which I have come to atone."