Mantis

by India Millar

  I smothered my irritation and answered his question.

  “I agree, the house is certainly in need of a good clean.” Yo’s face was smug at my response. “If it bothers you that much, there’s a broom in the corner. I suggest you pick it up and start on the tatami.”

  I was about to add, “And while you do that, I’ll shake out the futons,” but the astonished fury in Yo’s expression stopped me dead.

  “Me? You expect me to do housework?” I had no time to reply; he carried on at once. He was almost shouting, and I put my hand on Matsuo’s head as I heard him growl. I thought absently that Yo was right. Matsuo’s coat was rough. “I’m shinobi, woman. Not some sort of household skivvy. I suppose I should have known you would have no idea about cleaning and cooking. What samurai lady would ever demean herself so far as to even think about such lowly things?”

  I put my head on one side, considering his question as if it mattered. Yo was almost panting with fury. I knew instinctively that he wanted me to defend myself so he could tear down anything I said. I had been right from the start; I saw the hurt in his eyes and understood what all this was about. Yo’s fury had nothing to do with my lack of household skills—which I was the first to agree were lamentable. It was all to do with the fact that I was excluding him from all that mattered in my life. He was hurt, and this big, strong man had no way of showing it except by trying to pick an argument about nothing.

  It had been six days since my visit to Lord Akafumu. We had not made love since my audience with him. In fact, I realized guiltily that I had barely spoken to Yo in all that time. Nothing mattered to me but my revenge on Akafumu. Yo obviously understood that, but still he was hurt by what he saw as my rejection of him.

  “I’m sorry. You’re quite right, of course. Samurai ladies are taught the arts of flower arranging, of singing and dancing. I can play the samisen with exquisite skill, and I excel at the tea ceremony. But housework is beyond my capabilities.” I spoke lightly, hoping to defuse the situation. When Yo was calmer, then I would try and explain that I had not forgotten him. That I was sorry for my neglect of him. But he had to understand that until Akafumu had been punished, I was impossible for me to return to living a normal life.

  “It’s not just the state of the house, is it? It’s Akafumu. You’re obsessed with him,” Yo snarled. Ah, so we were coming to it at last!

  “Yes,” I said simply. “You know how I feel about him. He insulted me by the way he treated me when I humbled myself before him. But far worse than that, when he denied me my birthright, he destroyed my family. Half a millennium and more gone in a few cruel words. He destroyed the honor of my brother and father and all of my ancestors back down the centuries. And he did it casually, as if it was nothing. But he forgot that I am samurai, Yo. I can neither forget nor forgive what he has done. I will not rest until I—and all of my family—have been avenged.”

  I took a deep breath, feeling as if I had a heavy weight pressing on my chest. Yo’s lips were pursed, his expression unreadable.

  “I understand you feel you need to punish Akafumu.”

  I wanted to explain that punish was the wrong word. I needed revenge, a different thing entirely. I stayed quiet, sensing that Yo needed to bring his thoughts into the light. “But you don’t have to do it yourself. I can help. Just say the word and I’ll gather together a band of my brother shinobi and we’ll visit Akafumu in the night. Nobody will ever know we’ve been there, I promise you. If you want him left dead in his own palace, then that will be done. If you want him to disappear, then we’ll remove him silently and deal with him elsewhere. You will have your revenge and we can begin to live again.”

  Yo sat back, smiling. He was obviously delighted by his simple solution. I stared at the tatami in appalled silence. How could he possibly misunderstand my motives, misunderstand me so very badly? I was horrified. Yo was not only my lover, he insisted he loved me. I had always thought that our minds were in perfect tune until this moment.

  “Thank you,” I said colorlessly. “If I wanted Akafumu dead, then I would no doubt be pleased to accept your offer. But I don’t want him to die. That would be far too quick and easy for him. I want him alive, but for each day to be a torment for him. I want to destroy everything dear to him, just as he destroyed everything that matters to me. And any revenge that is visited on him has to be by my hand and no other. It’s a matter of honor.”

  “Honor?” Yo snapped impatiently. “The samurai code, I suppose?” I nodded. Of course it was. Couldn’t he understand that? “And I suppose you feel leaving Akafumu to rot in what sounds like a living death is more honorable than giving him a quick, clean death? How do you think you’re going to achieve that?”

  “You don’t understand,” I said wearily. I would achieve it. If I died trying to restore the honor of my ancestors, it would be worth it. Yo’s idea of a quick, clean death for Akafumu was not enough. As I thought that, an idea began to take form in my mind. Yo was shouting again, but I barely heard him.

  “You and your code of bushido. Can’t you understand that all that’s behind you? You’re not playing at being a samurai warrior woman any longer. This is what matters, Keiko.” He waved his hand at the room around us. “Having a clean, sweet-smelling home. Food on the table. A comfortable futon. Those are the important things in life. As long as I’m earning cash, I can provide us with all that. If you won’t let your pride allow me to deal with him for you, then forget about Akafumu, I beg of you. The gods will deal with him in their own good time. Think about us, not following your dreams.”

  I smiled at him pityingly. Such a shame he clearly couldn’t understand how wrong he was. Especially about me “playing” at being a samurai warrior woman. I was onna-bugeisha, and I would never leave that behind me.

  “I need to go out for a while,” I said. My mind was working furiously, and I was pleased that my voice sounded calm and steady. Yo’s face was blank with astonishment as I rose and clicked my fingers at Matsuo. “I may be some time.”

  It was only when I was outside in the street that I spared a thought to wonder if he would be there when I got back. I hoped he would be, but I shrugged the thought away quickly. If we were so far apart in understanding each other, then I decided firmly that I wasn’t greatly worried.

  Five

  Why do I bother

  To scold my cat? She listens

  But never hears me!

  That being so, why then was I pleased to find Yo exactly where I had left him when I returned? Matsuo annoyed me immensely by immediately rushing over to him and fawning around his legs. I ignored Yo. I would not speak first; the quarrel had been none of my doing. Fortunately, Yo spoke first.

  “I’m sorry, Keiko-chan. I spoke hastily, and I’m very pleased to see you back safely. The kettle is boiling. Would you like some tea?”

  “I’ll make it,” I said hurriedly. I was not being in the least bit conciliatory with the offer. I had tasted Yo’s tea once before. He made it so strong it was undrinkable, and I was very thirsty.

  We sat opposite each other and sipped our tea politely.

  “You had no need to worry about me,” I said stiffly. “Even without Matsuo to protect me, I would have been perfectly safe.”

  “Of course you would,” Yo said promptly. I was immediately annoyed with him for not being at least a little worried about me. He must have read my expression as he sighed deeply. “Whatever I say, it’s going to be wrong, isn’t it?”

  He sounded so very weary I stared at him and frowned, wondering if this was some sort of trick to get beneath my guard.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I said honestly. Yo surprised me by smiling and shaking his head with obvious amusement.

  “You really don’t, do you? Any other woman would be ready and eager to play the game of blame. To go around in circles until little by little we come to a compromise and admit that there were faults on both sides. But not you, Keiko. You see everything in black and white, with not a shade betwee
n.”

  I stared at him as if I might understand his words better if I could see his expression. Yet still I did not comprehend. Yo had mocked my life’s quest. He had treated me like a silly little girl. On a much lower—but still intensely irritating—level he had blamed me for the house being dirty and untidy when he knew perfectly well I had never had to raise a finger in the house in my life. And anyway, at least half the mess was his!

  “You mocked me,” I said finally. “You know what Akafumu has done to me and my family. You know I’ve sworn to get revenge on him. And yet you still laughed at me. You of all people!”

  I wanted to say so much more. To explain how I had thought he understood me. That I had believed he was the one man in the whole of my world who would stand by me no matter what. He had betrayed that trust. I stayed silent. I knew that if I tried to speak, my anger would overcome me and I would begin to argue with him again. And if I did, I thought that Yo would see my frustration as arrogance. When he spoke again, he surprised me.

  “I was angry myself. If I spoke out of turn, then I apologize,” he said gently. “You must see that your obsession with Akafumu is taking over your life. You think about nothing else. Didn’t you understand that was the real reason I was furious with you?”

  “No,” I said simply.

  “Did you never argue with Emiko? Or with your brother?” Yo sounded amazed, and I stared at him in confusion. What was he talking about? I would never have dreamed of contradicting anything Isamu said. And if I had dared to disagree with Emiko, she would have told me to leave her presence. I thought about Yo’s words carefully and realized with amazement that I had never argued with anybody ever, until today.

  “No,” I said. “This was the first time I’ve ever really argued with anybody. I suppose that’s why I … misunderstood.”

  “There are two sides to every…discussion, Keiko.” He really was laughing at me this time. I looked at him curiously, wondering both why he was amused and also why I wasn’t angry with him for it. “Next time you don’t understand what I’m talking about, don’t just walk away from me. Shout back. It’s impossible to have an argument on your own.”

  “I’m sorry I offended you, Yo-san,” I said stiffly. It was as far as I was prepared to go in terms of an apology. He could take it or leave it.

  “Oh, stop being so prickly.” Yo was having none of my affronted dignity. He leaned toward me and stroked my nose with his finger. I refused to respond. “I wasn’t laughing at you or anything you said. I know you’ve felt intensely frustrated all this time, trying to find a way to get your revenge on Akafumu. I’ve been waiting for you to ask me for help. You should have known that I would be willing to help in any way I could. I meant it when I said I would be delighted to do the job for you.”

  I stiffened at once. “Thank you. But I have no need of any help from a shinobi. Your way is not my way. I will deal with him myself, even if I die trying.”

  “And that is what worries me.” Yo was suddenly no longer smiling. “The wretched man deserves to be punished, I agree. But the thought that you might get caught trying to harm him terrifies me. He is powerful, Keiko, and very well protected. If you make one mistake, it will be your last. I know your pride stops you asking for my help, but it’s yours anyway.”

  “No,” I said firmly.

  Yo rubbed his forehead as if he had a headache. “I said I would help, not take your vengeance for you. I know you’re a samurai warrior woman. I know you can beat most men—me included—in a fair fight. But you’re too much a slave to the code of bushido. If something does not seem honorable to you, then you will disdain it. And that is why I’m worried. Akafumu might be a daimyo, but he has less honor than I do. Less honor than a mere shinobi, think of that!

  “He will not hesitate to kill you without even thinking about it if you cause him the slightest problem. He fills your thoughts to the exclusion of all else. To him, you are less than nothing. I don’t suppose he has spared a thought for you since you left his presence. Accept my help, Keiko. I promise you, without it, you will die trying to hurt him and Akafumu will live a long and no doubt happy life. Is that what you want?”

  “I would die an honorable death. Nothing matters more,” I said. I was deeply annoyed to hear the tremor in my voice.

  “You would surely die, but it would be a death without any point.” Yo persisted. “And besides, if Akafumu hurt you, then I would be forced to kill him myself. So, either way, you will have my help whether you want it or not.”

  Yo’s argument was seriously flawed, I knew that, but in spite of it, I began to smile.

  “I think I have a lot to learn,” I said ruefully. “And not just about housework.” It was a major concession on my part, and I was pleased when Yo looked surprised. “But I didn’t waste my time while I was out just now. I have been thinking. I need an anma, Yo.”

  His mouth opened and closed. His expression was so astonished, I almost laughed out loud. “An anma? We are both perfectly healthy. What do you want an anma for?”

  “Not just any anma,” I explained eagerly. “A very special anma. I know Akafumu uses the same trusted woman for all of his massages. I want you to find her and bring her here to me.”

  Yo surprised me. Instead of questioning my plan, he asked another set of questions entirely.

  “How do you know Akafumu has need of an anma regularly? And how do you know it’s always the same woman? And how am I going to find the right one? There must be hundreds of anma in Edo.”

  “Isamu mentioned it once, after he had been hunting with Akafumu on our estate. Our daimyo complained he was full of aches and pains from his time on horseback. Isamu offered to get an anma for him from the nearest village, but Akafumu refused. He insisted he had to have his own masseuse. He said that she knew his body. Knew how to bring him relief. If it had been anybody but our daimyo, Isamu would have laughed at him. As it was, he had to take it seriously. He had Akafumu’s anma brought to our house from the Floating World just to please him.

  “I remember her because she gave me nightmares for months after I saw her. She was an elderly woman and didn’t cover her eyes like most anma do. They were strange, all white. It was obvious that she couldn’t possibly see, but she had a strange trick of looking at you as if she could not only see you, but see inside you, see what you were thinking. And—I know the poor woman couldn’t help it—she was ugly. She terrified me.”

  I waited for Yo to ask why I wanted this anma, but he did not. That annoyed me to the extent that I almost blurted out the whole of my plan to make him understand how serious I was, but I held my tongue. He was shinobi. If he was as skilled as the legends said, then he should have the intuition to guess what I wanted the anma for. It was petty, but he shouldn’t have laughed at me. Instead, I simply answered the question he asked.

  “Do you remember her name?”

  “I never heard it. But even amongst the many anma in Edo, she must stand out. If she serves Lord Akafumu, she will be well known.”

  I stared at Yo, certain he was going to refuse, to tell me he needed more information. He stared into space for a moment and then smiled at me.

  “If I find her, will you tell me what you’re planning to do?” he asked.

  “But of course. When you find her, I’ll tell you everything.”

  I was torn between annoyance that he had succeeded—apparently effortlessly—and excitement that my plans were suddenly coming to life when he announced the next day that we were to go to visit Akafumu’s anma.

  “Why can’t she come here? I want to speak to her privately.”

  “Because it’s safer if we go to her. Reiki may be blind, but she finds her way about Edo with nobody to guide her. If she can do that, she could find her way here again easily. If things go wrong, it will be better if she has no idea where we are.”

  Reiki. As soon as Yo spoke the name, I knew it must be her. In Japanese, the name means one who practices the spirit of healing. I wondered if Yo was wai
ting for me to ask how he had found Reiki. I did not, but nodded calmly as if I had always expected him to succeed.

  “I imagine she must be busy. When can we see her?” I asked.

  “She’s waiting for us,” he said simply.

  I insisted we take Matsuo with us. Reiki lived in the poorest part of the Floating World, and I was apprehensive. I felt we needed to appear prosperous, but that was an invitation to be robbed. I explained carefully to Yo that I was not at all frightened of would-be robbers, but neither did I want to attract attention to us.

  He nodded. “I think that’s very wise,” he said. He was laughing at me again. I inclined my head graciously and ignored him.

  I almost regretted my haste as I gaped at the filthy hut Yo was indicating. It leaned against a wall at a jaunty angle. There were no shoji, just reed mats to form the outer walls and the roof. The door was another reed mat, hung on cords. A good shove and the whole lot would collapse. This couldn’t be the home of a woman who was the favorite of a daimyo. Nor could I believe that a noble as fastidious as Lord Akafumu could bear a woman who lived in this hovel to be in intimate contact with his body. I was ashamed of my thoughts as soon as they passed through my mind. This anma worked—and no doubt, very hard—for every coin she possessed. I had no right at all to feel superior to her.

  “Here?” I mouthed silently.

  Yo nodded. “Reiki-san. May we come in?” he called courteously. I remembered her voice at once. It was as sweet as honey and made her terrible appearance all the worse.