The Fire Kimono

by Laura Joh Rowland

  The feel of Egen’s strong, muscled young body thrilled Etsuko. She climbed atop him and sighed as he caressed her breasts, her hips. Together, in this private place, they could forget the world. They didn’t care that it was wrong for them to make love, that she was violating social custom and he his oath of celibacy. Nor did Etsuko care about Doi, her fiancá. Nothing mattered except satisfying this need.

  Egen rolled, throwing Etsuko onto the mattress. She pulled him down on her. When he entered her, they moaned at the sensation. The first time, three months ago, had hurt so much that Etsuko had screamed; afterward, she’d bled. But now, as Egen moved inside her, it was pure, astounding pleasure. She arched her back to meet his thrusts. As he shuddered and groaned out his release, she rode waves of ecstasy.

  Later, they lay side by side, holding hands, in the moonlight that seeped through the window shutters. Unhappiness filled Etsuko as cold, harsh reality intruded.

  “I wish we could run away together and marry,” she said.

  “So do I.” Egen exhaled. The chains of society’s rules and their prior commitments shackled them. “But even if we did, what would we live on?”

  “You could sell your poetry.”

  He laughed, a gloomy chuckle. “Who would buy it?”

  “Everybody,” Etsuko said, wanting to cheer him up, fervent in her belief in his talent. “We’ll be rich.” She turned over, hugged him. “And happy together forever!”

  They embraced in desperate, doomed love. Suddenly Egen raised his head and sniffed the air. “I smell smoke.”

  Now Etsuko smelled it, too. “Look—it’s coming in the windows.”

  She and Egen threw back the quilt. This fire season was a dangerous one, and as much as they hated to cut short their time together, they couldn’t lie abed while a fire burned in the estate. Straightening their clothes, they hurried outside. The smoke billowed from a far corner of the garden, behind trees that raised bare, skeletal branches against the fire’s crackling orange light.

  “Come on,” Egen said, running toward the fire. “We have to put it out.”

  Etsuko ran after him. The smoke stung her eyes and made her cough. She and Egen halted near the fire—a bush piled with dead leaves, burning like a giant torch. Tadatoshi stood close by it. His face wore an intense, gloating expression; his eyes were huge and round and bright with the flames. Under his kimono, his hands worked at his loins.

  “Tadatoshi! What are you doing?” Egen said.

  The boy took no notice of Egen or Etsuko. His hands worked faster. He seemed in a trance.

  Egen raced to the well. He filled a bucket, ran with it, and threw water on the bush. Etsuko filled the spare buckets for Egen, who lugged water and dowsed the fire until it was out. Egen and Etsuko stood, panting and relieved, by the smoking ruins of the bush. Tadatoshi blinked as if he’d just awakened. His hands dangled. His eyes glowed with reflections of the cold moonlight.

  “Why didn’t you put it out?” Egen said.

  “Why did you?” Tadatoshi sounded oddly disappointed.

  Egen looked as puzzled as Etsuko felt. “How did it start?”

  A sly expression came over Tadatoshi’s face. Etsuko noticed a kerosene jar and a lamp on the ground near the boy. Egen said to him, “You started it?”

  As Etsuko and Egen gazed at him in shock, Tadatoshi smiled, a private, satisfied smile.

  “Why would you do such a thing?” Egen said. “If we hadn’t come along, you might have burned down the estate!”

  Tadatoshi shrugged. Etsuko felt a ripple of revulsion tinged with fear. He was as strange as Egen had said, but she’d thought him harmless—until now.

  “I’m going to tell your father,” Egen said.

  The boy kept smiling, but his gaze turned hostile. “You’d better not.”

  “It’s my duty,” Egen said. “Your father will want to know. He’ll teach you not to set fires. You deserve to be punished.”

  “If you tell anyone, I’ll tell everybody what you do in the tea cottage with her.” Tadatoshi pointed at Etsuko.

  Etsuko gasped. Egen demanded, “Have you been spying on us?”

  Tadatoshi giggled.

  A guard burst upon the scene. “I smelled smoke. Is there a fire?” He looked at Etsuko, Egen, Tadatoshi, and the burned bush. “What happened?”

  Etsuko held her breath. Tadatoshi’s gaze threatened Egen, who paused before he said, “There was a fire. We put it out. That’s all.”

  The next day, Etsuko waylaid Egen in the corridor. “What are we going to do about Tadatoshi?” she whispered.

  Egen was somber, worried. “We can’t just do nothing. He might set more fires.”

  “But if we report him, and he tells everyone about us, his father will dismiss you. Lady Ateki will dismiss me. You’ll have to go back to the temple. I’ll go back to my parents, who’ll never let me out of the house until I’m married.” Panic seized Etsuko. “We’ll never see each other again!”

  “I know, but we have to stop him before he hurts somebody.”

  Although her relationship with Egen had been her first priority, Etsuko felt the stirrings of conscience. That strange, evil boy could kill innocent people. A sense of responsibility sprang from some hitherto unknown place inside Etsuko. With it came inspiration.

  “I have an idea,” she said. “We’ll keep a watch on Tadatoshi. If he tries to start another fire, we’ll stop him. He can’t hurt anybody as long as we’re on guard.”

  This was the first original, unselfish idea she’d had in her life. Etsuko was proud of herself, and Egen looked at her with new respect.

  So began their spying on Tadatoshi. Daytime was easy. Egen supervised the boy during his lessons. Etsuko helped keep an eye on him during meals and recreation. The nights proved more difficult. While the rest of the household slept, Egen and Etsuko took turns sitting in the hall by Tadatoshi’s door. But after six nights with little sleep, Etsuko awakened one morning to realize that she’d missed her shift.

  “Why didn’t you come?” Egen demanded later.

  “I didn’t wake up,” Etsuko said. “I was so tired.”

  Egen’s eyes were red, with dark circles underneath. “So was I. I fell asleep. But it’s all right—Tadatoshi was in his bed when I woke up and looked in on him.”

  That afternoon, Egen brought Tadatoshi to visit his mother. While she fussed over the boy, and Etsuko and Egen stole glances at each other, one of the maids said, “I heard there was a fire in town last night.”

  Tadatoshi smirked at Etsuko and Egen. Horror filled Etsuko. Not only had he escaped them; he’d set a fire.

  “We can’t go on like this,” Egen said later, while he and Etsuko watched Tadatoshi practice sword fighting with his bodyguards. “We’ll slip up again.”

  “You’re right,” Etsuko said. “It’s impossible for the two of us to watch him all the time. We need help.”

  They gazed at Doi, demonstrating sword techniques. He was the only person they could trust. When he stopped for a drink of water, they approached him. Etsuko said, “Doi-san, may we speak with you a moment?”

  “About what?”

  Etsuko explained that Tadatoshi had set a fire last night.

  “I don’t believe it,” Doi said in astonishment.

  “It’s true,” Egen said. “We caught him once before.”

  “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

  “We’re telling you,” Etsuko said, then fibbed: “We were afraid no one else would believe us. We’ve been watching him, trying to keep him from setting another fire. But last night he got away from us. He set the fire in town. We can’t control him by ourselves. Will you help us?”

  His expression said Doi thought they’d gone mad. Suspicion crept into his eyes. “What were you two doing outside in the middle of the night?”

  “We couldn’t sleep. We went out for a walk, and we happened to meet,” Egen said quickly. “That’s when we saw the bush on fire.”

  Etsuko flushed under Doi’s dubious gaz
e; Egen fidgeted with his rosary. Doi said, “This is nonsense,” and stalked off.

  “I guess we’ll just have to carry on alone,” Egen said.

  “Tonight we’ll sit watch on Tadatoshi together,” Etsuko decided. “We’ll keep each other awake.”

  By the time night came, they were so exhausted that they both fell asleep by Tadatoshi’s door. They were jarred awake at dawn, by shouts. They rushed outside and saw Doi dragging Tadatoshi across the courtyard.

  “Let go of me!” Tadatoshi yelled, kicking and struggling.

  “Not until I’m ready.” Doi was panting with exertion, angrier than Etsuko had ever seen him.

  Servants came running to see what the fuss was all about, Hana among them. Doi grabbed Tadatoshi by the front of his robe and shouted, “If you ever do that again, I’ll kill you!”

  He shoved Tadatoshi. “Go to your room.” The boy ran off. Doi turned on the servants. “What are you gawking at? Get out of here.”

  They fled. Etsuko asked Doi, “What happened?”

  The anger drained from him; he looked miserable. “I didn’t believe what you said about Tadatoshi, but last night I thought I’d better check on him. I went to his room. You were both asleep outside it. I stood outside the building, and pretty soon he came out. He was carrying a pack on his back. I went after him. He had a ladder hidden in the bushes along the back wall. We climbed over. He sneaked into town, I trailed him. He stopped at a market in Nihonbashi. And then—”

  Doi exhaled mournfully. “He took a jar of kerosene from his pack and splashed it on a stall. He lit it before I could stop him. The stall went up in flames. He set a fire. I saw him with my own eyes.”

  Etsuko was horrified yet glad. She and Egen were no longer alone in the secret.

  “What happened?” Egen asked.

  “A bell started ringing. I heard the firemen coming. Tadatoshi ran. I caught him and brought him home.” Doi cursed, as woeful and ashamed as angry. “My master is an arsonist!”

  “What are you going to do?” Etsuko said.

  “I’m going to tell his father,” Doi said.

  Etsuko exchanged a relieved glance with Egen. Now they needn’t report Tadatoshi and face the consequences. Later that morning, they eavesdropped outside the door of the office while Doi told Lord Tokugawa Naganori what he’d seen Tadatoshi do.

  Lord Naganori said, “I was afraid of this. When my son was younger, I caught him setting fires on several occasions. I thought he was just playing and didn’t know any better. I thought he would grow out of the habit, but it’s clear he has not. Thank you for telling me. I’ll take care of the problem.”

  For the next eight days Lord Naganori assigned guards to keep a constant watch on his son. Etsuko and Egen didn’t have to stay up at night. But Doi began watching them. Once he caught Etsuko sneaking away from a rendezvous in the tea cottage with Egen. She put Doi off by saying she’d gone for a walk, but she feared he wouldn’t believe her excuses next time. And Tadatoshi grew restless. Egen said he couldn’t sit still during his lessons. His need to start fires seemed to be a compulsion that gave him no peace until it was satisfied.

  Something had to happen.

  On the eighth day Lord Naganori gathered Etsuko, Doi, Egen, and Tadatoshi in his office. He said, “I’ve brought you here to announce a decision I’ve made.” He nodded at Etsuko and Egen. “Since you were the ones who first called attention to my son’s problem with fires, you deserve to know.”

  Doi smiled; he thought Etsuko and Egen should be pleased because he’d shared the credit. They couldn’t hide their horror. Tadatoshi turned a murderous gaze on them. Lord Naganori didn’t notice. He continued. “My son is obviously possessed by an evil spirit that drives him to set fires. Therefore, I’m sending him to Miyako, to a sorcerer who performs exorcisms. He leaves tomorrow.”

  Relief flooded Etsuko; she saw Egen let out his breath. Tadatoshi was going away. They wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore. Doi nodded in satisfaction.

  “Doi-san, you’ll go with him,” Lord Naganori said.

  The young samurai’s expression turned to dismay. Etsuko saw Doi thinking that their wedding would have to be postponed. She rejoiced because she and Egen would have more time together.

  “We can’t neglect Tadatoshi’s education,” Lord Naganori said. “You’ll go, too, Egen-san.”

  It was Egen’s and Etsuko’s turn to be horrified. Who knew when they would see each other again?

  No one dared oppose Lord Naganori. When he dismissed them, Etsuko fled, hiding tears. Doi and Egen hurried after her. Tadatoshi followed them outside.

  “You told on me!” he shouted at Etsuko and Egen. “Now you’ll be sorry!”

  Etsuko turned on him, furious and aghast. This was all his fault. “Shut up, you awful little boy!”

  “Now I’m going to tell on you.” Tics wrenched Tadatoshi’s face; his body jittered.

  “Tell what?” Doi demanded.

  Tadatoshi pointed at Etsuko and Egen. “They’ve been meeting in the tea cottage at night and mating like dogs, behind your back.”

  Their secret was out. Shamed to the core, Etsuko looked at the ground. She wished a hole would open and swallow her.

  “So it’s true,” Doi said flatly. “Just as I suspected.”

  “We didn’t mean for it to happen,” Egen said.

  “Spare me the excuses.” Doi sounded even more hurt than furious. “I thought you were both my friends. Well, not anymore!” The next day, the Great Fire started.

  Shocked by what his mother had said, Sano watched her eyes close. “Mother! Tell me what happened next!”

  She didn’t respond. Her breath sighed quietly in and out of her as she slept on her bed in Edo Jail’s sickroom. Sano said to Dr. Ito, “Can you wake her up again?”

  “That’s not advisable. Giving her more stimulant could have dangerous effects.” Dr. Ito paused, then said, “Are you sure you want to hear more?”

  Although Sano had come to discover the truth about his mother and the murder of Tadatoshi, he saw Dr. Ito’s point: He’d already heard far too much.

  The wind tore clouds into streamers in the night sky. Fires burned like flares across the city and lit the figures of men who sat in fire-watch towers, peering through spyglasses. Within Edo Castle, gusts blew torches carried by patrol guards into twisting tongues of flame. Servants snuffed the fires in the stone lanterns with sand and placed buckets filled with water at every gate. Inside the parlor of Sano’s mansion, drafts fanned smoke from the charcoal brazier on which Reiko heated sake.

  Sano, Hirata, and the detectives sat waiting for their drinks. Masahiro played with his toy soldiers while Sano summarized the story his mother had told him at Edo Jail.

  “So little Tadatoshi was an arsonist,” Marume said.

  So my mother had a secret lover, Sano thought. That part of the story had shocked him as much as the part about Tadatoshi setting fires. He wouldn’t have believed his mother had been so unchaste, so wanton, had he not heard it from her own lips. But that wasn’t the only disturbing thing.

  “Why do people set fires?” Masahiro asked, lining up wooden horsemen.

  “Maybe because they’re possessed by evil spirits, as Tadatoshi’s father thought,” Sano said. “We may never know.”

  Something else troubled Sano. It had to do with his mother taking the initiative to spy on Tadatoshi, her enlisting the tutor and Doi in her scheme to prevent him from endangering innocent people. Her actions not only contradicted Sano’s whole image of his docile, quiet mother, but they also flouted propriety and tradition.

  “Is Lord Matsudaira possessed by an evil spirit?” Masahiro asked.

  The detectives laughed. “That would be a good excuse for what he’s doing,” Fukida said.

  Sano was impressed that his son had drawn a parallel between the arsonist in the murder case and the man who’d given him his first personal taste of evil. Masahiro was more astute than most nine-year-olds. But Sano regretted that his in
sight had come with a price—the loss of innocence.

  “Lord Matsudaira is mad for power,” Sano said. “Power is a kind of evil spirit. So you could be right.”

  “An exorcism might cure what ails him,” Marume said. “Too bad he’s not about to get one.”

  Reiko poured sake into cups and distributed them. Sano and his men drank while Masahiro marched his toy armies.

  “It sounds as if Tadatoshi got his comeuppance,” Fukida said. “Whoever killed him did everyone a favor.”

  Sano noticed that Reiko was very quiet, waiting on the men, effacing herself as conventional wives did. It seemed strangely out of character.

  “Your mother’s story explains why she was spying on Tadatoshi,” Hirata said.

  While relating her story, Sano had paused to tell his companions what Lady Ateki and Oigimi had said about her today.

  “It also explains why Doi threatened him,” Fukida said, alluding to Hana’s statement, which Sano had related earlier.

  “But it won’t help her,” Sano said unhappily.

  If the story was true, his mother was slated for execution because of a boy who’d deserved to die. Arson was a capital crime, punishable by burning to death, but even if Tadatoshi had been guilty of it, that made no difference.

  “Lord Tokugawa Naganori is dead, and Colonel Doi and Egen have taken sides against your mother. Even if they knew Tadatoshi was an arsonist, they’re not going to admit it and help her out,” Hirata concurred.

  “It’ll be her word against theirs,” Masahiro piped up.

  “Good observation, young master,” Fukida said. “Chamberlain Sano, we’ve got a future detective here.”

  The gods forbid Masahiro to follow in his father’s tracks, Sano thought. He looked to Reiko for her reaction. She appeared to be listening hard, yet she had a preoccupied air.

  “Who wants to be the one to accuse the shogun’s cousin of arson?” Marume said.

  No one volunteered. Maligning the murder victim’s character wouldn’t serve the defendant’s interests in this case. To speak ill of a Tokugawa clan member was treason. Should Sano report this story to the shogun, his mother could be put to death for it even if she hadn’t killed Tadatoshi.