Hideyoshi and Rikyū

by Nogami Yaeko

  “Really? What?”

  “Don’t pretend. Everyone knows you visit Daikumachi while our uncle isn’t there. Our mother doesn’t say anything to you because it’s too unpleasant to talk about. We’ve all been hoping that you would get over this and settle down. That’s why we want this match to be successful. But if you refuse it so that you can keep being the playboy, you will disgrace our entire family. Even if you are the son of Rikyū, nobody will respect you or care what happens to you.”

  Kisaburō became very calm. He wasn’t surprised that his sister knew about Ochika, but he honestly hadn’t thought about it. Of course, they were worried that he would never settle down. But Katsu had unexpectedly given him the solution: if he kept going the way he had been, if he became a man that nobody noticed, people would stop expecting him to act like the son of Rikyū. They would forget who he was, and he would escape from the mold. After a while, his family would simply accept his behavior, and instead of making excuses, he could just be honest about where he was spending his nights.

  His silence gave Katsu the impression that he was finally listening to her, that he finally felt guilty for all his bad behavior and was thinking seriously about his future. “Kisa-chan,” she coaxed, a little smile on one cheek, “you still have time to change your mind. I’m the only one who just heard you say that you refused the match. We can pretend that you didn’t say it, and I didn’t hear it.”

  “Shut up.”

  His sister stared at him in astonishment, as if the fire where she was warming her hands had suddenly spit a hot coal in her face.

  Kisaburō glared at her with unrestrained anger. “If you mention that match one more time, I will never speak to you again.”

  Katsu recovered quickly. “Well, then, what are you going to do? You’re not going to get married. You’re not going to be a tea master. You’re not going to take over the family business. Are you just going to fade into the night?”

  “I’ll join the pirates.”

  “Are you mad?”

  Kisaburō was even more astonished than his sister at what he’d just said. The thoughtless words had left his mouth like a thread unraveling from a spindle. He suddenly remembered Ochika’s suggestion about sailing away on the European ships. Maybe she was joking, or maybe she was serious, but if he really wanted to escape, he didn’t even need to go as far as Hakata. He could take a few steps down to the shores of Sakai and join the Japanese pirates that operated all over the inland sea. In peacetime they worked as smugglers, and in wartime they were hired by lords as a mercenary navy, as Odawara had done. It was known in Sakai that the ships that controlled the inland sea sometimes helped Japanese who wanted to leave the country.

  Kisaburō grinned at the look on his sister’s face. Why not become a thief? The idea amused him, and suddenly he wanted to tell it to Ochika. She would follow him fearlessly.

  “Kisa-chan.”

  Katsu was angrier than ever, but Kisaburō was too caught up in his grand idea to respond. Coldly, he watched her play with the chain around her neck, squeezing it so tightly that it cut into the collar of her kimono. It was Katsu’s habit to play with the cross whenever she laughed or behaved like a spoiled child. But now it was as if all the emotion in her body was condensed into those two hands on the cross.

  “That’s it,” she said. “From now on, I don’t care what happens to you. After hearing about this, Mother will give up on you. You can have your playboy life and mess around and do whatever you want to do. But let me tell you one more thing. If you think that Ochika is going to stay at Daikumachi forever, you’re making a big mistake. She’ll be back at Chimori soon. You heard, didn’t you, that last summer the mistress of Yanagiya fell while she was bathing? Since then, her husband wants Ochika to come and replace her. It would pay well.”

  The mistress of Yanagiya, a huge woman, was Ochika’s foster mother. Her husband, who was very thin and about half the size of his wife, was a one-eyed old man who was close to sixty by now. Ochika thought of him as her own father. Even now she still held the same affection for him.

  Katsu’s words hit him like a violent waterfall in a narrow gorge that rushes and splashes over the rocks and kept hitting him, over and over. He was so distracted that he didn’t notice her leave the room. The only thing he could think, like a leaf spinning over the surface of running water, was that although the master of Yanagiya used to come to Daikumachi often, he hadn’t seen him there recently.

  16

  Hideyoshi had dreamed of conquering China for a long time, and he had already begun the preparations. Two years ago, he had expanded and renovated the city of Hakata in preparation for the day when his ships would launch from there to go to China.

  His ambition to extend his control over not only the sixty provinces of Japan, but Korea and China as well, was not driven solely by a lust for conquest. As with other supreme rulers whose foreign invasions were remembered by history, Hideyoshi’s plans were also motivated by economic concerns. Ever since Japanese pirates had taken over the coast of the continent, trade with Ming China had been cut off. Since then, foreign trade had relied on European ships. But the Europeans monopolized not only the sea routes but also the profits, leaving little financial gain for Japan.

  Although the conquest of Odawara had accomplished Hideyoshi’s goal of uniting Japan, it left various problems in its wake. One was the huge number of wandering samurai who had no masters left to serve—their lords having been killed in the war—nor land to plow. They had taken to preying on local farmers, forcing them to give up some of their food and money or face violence. That disturbed the harmony of the social order. A war would solve this problem, taking all those warriors and sending them back out onto the battlefield.

  Merchants were also happy about the upcoming invasion. It wasn’t just about selling munitions and other goods needed for the battle. Although Japanese industries were beginning to emerge, the commoners had little purchasing power. The merchants needed overseas markets to expand their profits.

  Sakai was a good example of this potential. A trade ship authorized by the shōgun had left the port, and a while later a Chinese ship decorated with beautiful colors had come back with emissaries who said they wanted the prosperous trade to resume. But Hideyoshi wanted more than just the occasional ship. Lord Konishi Yukinaga, originally a merchant, became Mitsunari’s consultant in planning the invasion of China. Since his father had some trade with China, he was considered an expert.

  Although Mitsunari was just as set as Hideyoshi on attacking China, his purpose was different. While Hideyoshi boasted to a Jesuit priest that after his death he would be worshiped as a deity, Mitsunari had his eye on domestic politics. He didn’t forget that even though the lords in each province appeared to be under Hideyoshi’s control, they might easily switch their loyalties if the situation changed. He was especially worried about the powerful Tokugawa Ieyasu, who had only gotten stronger since Hideyoshi had given him control of the Kantō region. Mitsunari was also suspicious of Date Masamune in the north and Shimazu in the south. After the previous wars, as had always been the case, powerful lords had to take care of the warriors who had lost their lands. If Hideyoshi summoned them to serve in the foreign expedition army, all of those lords would gather under Hideyoshi as their commander, which would create a huge guard. If the lords shifted their focus to a battle abroad, Hideyoshi could prevent disputes among them. The most important thing was to confine their treachery. That was Hideyoshi’s original reasoning.

  The lords in Kyūshū, including Konishi Ikunaga and Katō Kiyomasa, were very enthusiastic about sending their troops overseas because they would receive the profit from the resulting trade. On the other hand, Ieyasu and the lords in northern Japan were not so keen. It wasn’t just that they were at a geographic disadvantage. Mitsunari speculated that there were other reasons these lords weren’t excited about the impending invasion.

  From the commoners’ point of view, invading China was like a distant dre
am. But they were used to the constant state of war that had plagued Japan for the past couple of decades, and the thought of an overseas battle gave them a renewed excitement. The most important task was to build warships. They were made from cast iron to repulse gunfire, but would also transport food and weapons. Shipbuilders were working day and night to build as many ships of as many different varieties as they possibly could. People complained that cotton from the Mikawa region, which was used for ship sails and soldiers’ clothes, was becoming scarce, and that it was now more expensive than silk. There were rumors that cotton producers were holding back their production in anticipation of a rise in price. But in general, most people were excited about the war, already anticipating victory. Hideyoshi had defeated the lords Akechi, Shimazu, and Hōjō, and he had also won the battle of Shizugatake. They all believed that he was unbeatable.

  On November 7, three ambassadors arrived from Korea with an answer from their king. Hideyoshi had asked Sō Yoshitoshi, the lord of Tsushima province, to negotiate with the Korean king. Hideyoshi planned to use Korea as a stepping-stone, a base for his attack on China. Before he made the effort to invade, however, he planned to give them a chance to surrender and place themselves under his sovereignty. Since Tsushima was the closest peninsula in Japan to Korea, Yoshitoshi was chosen to negotiate with them. Hideyoshi’s plan was to renew diplomatic relations with a prisoner exchange: Japanese pirates who had been captured by the Koreans for some Koreans who had joined the Japanese pirates and then been captured by the Japanese. But Hideyoshi also demanded that Korea submit to Japanese control and that the king himself come to Japan to pay his respects to Hideyoshi.

  Yoshitoshi knew very well what the Koreans’ response would be, however, and he couldn’t bring himself to write such a letter; instead, he wrote a letter of friendship. So, the letter that the ambassadors brought from their king in reply expressed equal trust and mutual friendship.

  The ambassadors were treated with only the courtesy accorded to guests. Not realizing what Yoshitoshi had done, Hideyoshi assumed that the messengers had come to offer him a tribute. In the signed letter addressed to the king, Hideyoshi had written, “I am the one who was born from a mother who dreamed that the sun came into her,” referring to the myth he had invented of his own birth. He went on to say that just as there was no place on earth where the sun could not reach, so his authority and glory would cover both heaven and earth. In his own creation myth, he became the son of the sun, whose mother was both a concubine and a daughter of Hagi Chūnagon.

  Even Hideyoshi wasn’t aware of the gulf in communication that existed between him and the ambassadors. The commoners certainly had no idea. The arrival of the ambassadors put the country into a frenzy of preparation for both the invasion and the increased trade that was expected to result. Everyone believed that the Koreans had capitulated, and Hideyoshi was set to enter China through their territory. Kampaku-sama’s dream became their dream, and everyone was talking about it. It became the subject of daily conversation, like the weather.

  So when Yahei came to visit Rikyū, it wasn’t strange that he brought it up. While Yahei may have taken a loose approach to social custom when dealing with women, he still obeyed the traditional obligation to make a formal visit to his brother-in-law at the end of the year. The afternoon he came by, Riki had been invited to visit Hideyoshi’s wife, so she was not there. Hideyoshi had left for Yodo Castle two days previously, and, unusually, he had not asked Rikyū to come along.

  “Will Kampaku-sama be there for long?” Yahei asked.

  “No, he will be back tomorrow.”

  “Well, then I came at just the right time,” Yahei said, and changed the subject. “I heard those Korean ambassadors were frightened by Jurakudai.”

  “Is that the rumor?”

  “Japan is much smaller than Korea. Perhaps in their own country, they underestimated our power, but then they came here and were surprised. Kampaku-sama was in a very good mood. He came out to greet them holding Tsurumatsu, but unfortunately … what happened was …” Yahei was laughing so hard now that he had to stop a moment, covering his mouth with the fan he used for Noh performances. He finally explained that after the formal greeting of the ambassadors, Hideyoshi had brought out his beloved son, wrapped in brocade like a treasure. But while they were there, Tsurumatsu, who wasn’t even two years old, had wet his kimono with no regard for the time or place. That was the rumor that was circulating around Kyōto. Some people said that he shouldn’t have brought a baby to a formal meeting, while others took Kampaku-sama’s side. They said that it was good to show the Koreans that Hideyoshi did not even care that his son had pissed right there in front of the Korean ambassadors.

  One could tell which side Rikyū took just by watching his face as Yahei spoke. He blinked his big eyes as if he’d gotten dust in them, and his right cheek moved slightly, just hinting at a laugh.

  Yahei didn’t pay attention to Rikyū’s reaction. He didn’t really care; he was too caught up in telling the story. He closed his fan with a snap and spoke as if he had suddenly thought of something important. “You know, Eki-san, you might have to go along with Kampaku-sama when he finally crosses the ocean to attack China.”

  “Well …”

  “You went to Kyūshū and Odawara with him. Surely he will take you along this time, also.”

  “It will be up to him. I’m getting older, and my health is getting worse. I was even sick in Odawara. If that were to happen again, it would make him worry. And if he decides to go to China, it will be a very different situation.”

  Yahei waved his hand, interrupting Rikyū’s thoughts. “Ekisan, you’re worrying about nothing. I think it’s a big mistake for people to say that China and Korea are very far away from here. According to one of Lord Tsushima’s retainers, when you stand on the shores of Tsushima in the spring, you can see the rape blossoms of Korea across the ocean. So really, it’s just a step away.”

  Rikyū knew how his brother-in-law exaggerated, and he didn’t believe that the people of Tsushima could actually see the rape blossoms. But it was true that you could easily buy Chinese goods on Tsushima despite the fact that trade with Ming China had ceased. So it wasn’t an impossible distance. For the lords from western Japan, such as Nabeshima, Katō, and Kamei, Korea was closer than Odawara, and that led people to think that attacking China would be the same as attacking their neighbors. Rikyū understood why people thought that way, but he didn’t agree.

  He didn’t say any of this to Yahei, though. He only said, “Oh, rape blossoms.”

  “Well, it seems like Kampaku-sama has finally decided to go to Korea, so he’ll get to see those rape blossoms for himself.” He laughed loudly, and confessed that he wanted to see China more than Korea. “As you know, there are a number of stories about China in Noh, like Koou, Kanyōkyū, Yōkihi, and Kantan. I would love to see the country instead of just singing about it. I think it would be interesting.”

  “I understand what you mean.”

  “You’re the only one who says so.” The thought that Rikyū understood him made him feel exhilarated. He kept talking energetically, wrinkling his beautiful nose with excitement. Other people thought his talk of going to China was nonsense, and he hadn’t really thought much about it, himself. But if Hideyoshi did go to China, what if there was some small chance he could go, too? “You know, Eki-san, once Korea and China fall to Kampaku-sama, it will be just like Japan. Teahouses will be built, tea gatherings will be held, and also Noh stages will be built. China is so different from Japan; Kampaku-sama will want to build something that will really astonish the Chinese, don’t you think so?”

  “Yes, if he decides to build,” Rikyū answered ambiguously.

  Yahei ignored the delicate nuance in Rikyū’s answer. His wish to be on stage at Jurakudai again extended into a desire to be on stage in China, and he began to imagine the stages that would be built. If his friend Kurematsu Shinkurō was allowed to choose who could go to China, then Yahei might
be closer to going there than he was to getting on the stage in Jurakudai. As was his habit, his mind leaped ahead to the day when he was already there, performing, and he licked his big lips and recited a line from the play Kantan, his eyes half-open. “In the east, a ninety-meter-high mountain was built in silver, and a golden sun was placed on top of it. In the west, a ninety-meter-high mountain was built in gold, and a white-silver moon was placed on top of it.”

  Enchanted by the images from the play that danced through his mind, he continued, “Unryū Hall and Abō Hall and the emperor’s palace in the Land of Happiness will become Kampaku-sama’s. It’s amazing. So I’m thinking, Eki-san, since we created Vengeance on Akechi there will definitely be a Noh play called Attacking China. We should start writing it now, so that when Kampaku-sama opens his first stage he can dance his part.”

  “If attacking China goes as smoothly as getting vengeance on Akechi.”

  “Hmmmmmm.” Yahei hadn’t thought about that. “Of course, you’re right. China is a very powerful country. It certainly won’t be as easy to accomplish as vengeance on Akechi …”

  “Oh, no, I didn’t mean it that way.” Rikyū became uncharacteristically flustered as he denied his words. He had been very careful whenever he talked about the impending invasion of China. But he had been carried away by Yahei’s ridiculous stories, and said something he shouldn’t have. He wanted to bite his tongue.

  Attacking China was Kampaku-sama’s new pet project, an embodiment of Japan’s military might and the wealth and influence the trade with Ming China would bring. Although the public talk had all been about the glory, not a few people had doubt and anxiety about such a huge undertaking. That made Mitsunari and the other retainers nervous, and they were alert for any negative ideas.