The Ronin’s Mistress si-15

by Laura Joh Rowland

  Chikara blurted out, “We never meant for anybody except Kira to be harmed!”

  “We apologize to you and your wife, for what it’s worth,” Oishi said with humble contrition.

  Ukihashi turned to Reiko. “Please forgive them! They didn’t even know what Kajikawa was going to do!”

  “There’s no need for them to apologize or for me to forgive them,” Reiko said, although visibly struggling to control her temper. “It wasn’t their fault.”

  “Kajikawa is responsible for the attack on Magistrate Ueda, not them,” Hirata said.

  The apology seemed to Sano like a gift of spoiled fish. Kajikawa’s culpability didn’t negate the fact that much damage had stemmed from Oishi’s actions. In Sano’s eyes, the shine of honor had worn off the vendetta. Nonetheless, Sano could forgive the forty-seven ronin, who had been unwitting servants for Kajikawa.

  “Kajikawa is responsible for more than the attack on Magistrate Ueda,” Sano said. “He set the vendetta in motion.”

  Reiko gazed at Sano, astounded. “Okaru was right. There was more to the vendetta than met the eye.”

  “I lied when I said I didn’t remember telling her that,” Oishi said sheepishly. “When I drink, it’s hard to keep my mouth shut.” He said to Sano, “When you told me that she was in Edo, I was upset because I might have told her more than that, and I was afraid she would remember and tell you.”

  Guilt changed Reiko’s expression. “I’ve done Okaru an injustice.”

  “So have I.” Oishi said with remorse, “I shouldn’t have used her.”

  “But why did Kajikawa set the vendetta in motion?” Reiko asked.

  “I suspect he had his own grudge against Kira.” Sano recalled his talk with Kajikawa. “He tried to cast aspersion on Kira twice. First he said that Lord Asano had called Kira a corrupt snake. Then he brought up the rumor about Kira poisoning his brother-in-law the daimyo. It’s time for another talk with Kajikawa. We’re going back to Edo Castle.”

  “Do I have to leave, too?” Ukihashi clung to her husband. She held out a hand to her son. Chikara took it, although he was obviously disturbed by the revelations he’d heard. She appealed to Reiko. “May I stay?”

  “My hosts will find a room for her,” Oishi said, “and for our daughters.”

  “Is that all right?” Reiko asked Sano.

  “Yes.” Sano didn’t want to separate the reunited family any more than Reiko did. The fate of the forty-seven ronin was still up in the air, and whatever time they had left, Oishi and his wife and children should spend together. On the verge of being torn from his own family, Sano couldn’t wish the same on anyone else.

  34

  Back at Edo Castle, Sano, Hirata, Marume, and Fukida went to the office of the keepers of the castle. It was late in the evening; only a few men were still present, tidying their papers, extinguishing lamps. Sano said, “Where is Kajikawa?”

  An old assistant with a humped back led Sano to an empty desk enclosed by lattice partitions. “That’s odd. He was here a moment ago.”

  “The lamp on the desk is still lit,” Hirata pointed out. “He must have just left.”

  Sano felt a chilly draft, which he followed down a passage. He and Hirata and the detectives gazed out an open door onto a courtyard. Barely visible in the twilight were footprints gouged into the snow, left by a man running.

  “He heard me asking for him,” Sano deduced. “He guessed that we found out he hired the man who attacked Magistrate Ueda, and he panicked.”

  “Shouldn’t you be able to track him down?” Marume asked Hirata in a challenging tone.

  “He has a weak aura,” Hirata said. “It’ll be hard to detect, but I’ll try.” He moved swiftly, following the footsteps.

  “Organize search parties,” Sano told the detectives. “Comb the castle. I’ll tell the captain of the guard to have all the gates closed. But just in case Kajikawa slips out, send a search party to his home.” Sano turned to the assistant. “Where does he live?”

  The assistant gave directions to a house in the district near Edo Castle occupied by the hereditary Tokugawa vassals. As Sano, Marume, and Fukida hurried off, the assistant tagged after them. “Did Kajikawa really hire someone to kill the magistrate?”

  “It’s looking that way,” Sano said.

  “I can’t believe he would do such a thing. He seems so harmless. Although he hasn’t been quite himself recently. But then it’s understandable.”

  “What’s understandable?” Sano slowed down, his curiosity piqued.

  “That he would be depressed. His son committed suicide three years ago.”

  Was this the event that had turned Kajikawa from a good man into a criminal? “Tell me how it happened,” Sano said.

  “Kajikawa’s son was named Tsunamori. He was twelve years old,” the assistant said. “He hanged himself.”

  Sano was shocked and grieved that a boy only a little older than Masahiro had taken his own life. He became aware of a recurring pattern in the events that had followed the vendetta: Sano and Masahiro; Oishi and Chikara; Yanagisawa and Yoritomo; fathers and sons. Here was another father-and-son pair, at the heart of the pattern.

  “Why did he do it?”

  “I don’t know. Kajikawa doesn’t talk about it. But one night soon after it happened, I came upon him crying at his desk. He was cursing and muttering. He didn’t notice me, and I thought it best to leave him alone. But I heard him say something to the effect that he blamed his son’s death on Kira Yoshinaka.”

  Sano felt a mounting excitement. Even if he didn’t yet know how Kira was involved in the boy’s suicide, he had Kajikawa’s motive for wanting Kira dead, for setting the vendetta in motion. The forty-seven ronin had been Kajikawa’s tool for his own revenge.

  * * *

  “I want a game of go,” the shogun announced to the boys gathered in his chamber. Some were playing music on samisens and flutes or singing, some joking among themselves. His gaze settled on Masahiro, who was trying to be unobtrusive. “Bring me my set.”

  Carrying the lacquer case, Masahiro mounted the dais. As he passed Yoritomo, who sat beside the shogun, Yoritomo stuck out his foot. Masahiro tripped, went sprawling, and dropped the go set. Black and white marbles flew everywhere. Everyone laughed. Masahiro flushed with embarrassment and seethed with anger as he picked himself up.

  “What a clumsy oaf Masahiro is,” Yoritomo said to the shogun. “Shall we send him away before he hurts somebody besides himself, Your Excellency?”

  Masahiro knew he should have been paying closer attention to Yoritomo, but he’d been too busy thinking about Goza, the bloody clothes, and the tattoos. He felt a pang of fear. Was Yoritomo finally about to succeed in putting him out of the shogun’s good graces? What would his parents say?

  “No, it was just a, ahh, harmless mistake.” The shogun smiled kindly at Masahiro and patted the floor on his other side. “Come sit by me.”

  Almost as dismayed as he was relieved, Masahiro sat. The shogun told Yoritomo, “Pick up those marbles. Set up the board. Masahiro and I will play.”

  Yoritomo obeyed, looking so furious that Masahiro imagined smoke coming out of his ears. The shogun smiled too fondly at Masahiro as they took turns placing marbles on the gridded board. Masahiro squirmed. He heard the other boys whispering. They were probably betting on whether he would become the shogun’s next favorite. But not even that threat could distract Masahiro from his present dilemma.

  He had to tell his parents about Goza. There was no question in his mind. He owed his first loyalty to them. But he hated to get Okaru in trouble, especially since he couldn’t help thinking she was innocent in spite of the evidence against her servant. He was so preoccupied that he almost forgot to lose the game.

  “I win!” the shogun exclaimed. Everyone clapped. “Now it’s time for my massage.”

  He left with Yoritomo, who gave Masahiro a baleful parting glance. Masahiro went home, dreading what he had to do. At the gate, he asked the sentry, “Are
my parents here?”

  “No, young master.”

  But Masahiro couldn’t put off telling them forever. If Okaru and Goza were responsible for beating his grandfather and killing the two bodyguards, they must be punished. “Did anything happen while I was gone?”

  “Hirata-san caught the man who attacked your grandfather.” The sentry told Masahiro about the hired assassin.

  It wasn’t Goza! Masahiro felt a huge relief. He wouldn’t have to tell his parents. He wouldn’t have to see their disappointment that he’d kept a bad secret from them. But his relief quickly faded as suspicion reared its head again. “Who hired him?”

  “Your parents are trying to find out.”

  It could have been Goza, Masahiro thought unhappily. “Where’s Okaru?”

  “Still under house arrest.”

  That meant his mother still didn’t trust her. Masahiro decided to talk to Okaru. Maybe he could help her prove she was innocent. He ran so fast that he was out of breath when he arrived at her room. Outside it, Lieutenant Tanuma sat against the wall. He saw Masahiro, jumped up, and said, “Young master, can you guard Okaru for a moment? I have to go to the Place of Relief.” He rushed off without waiting for an answer.

  Masahiro went into the room. Excitement mounted in him; his heart thudded. Okaru knelt on the bed, plaiting her hair into thin braids, then combing them out with her fingers. She turned to him. Her beautiful face was sad, scrubbed clean of makeup, and puffy around her eyes. She looked as if she’d stopped expecting anything good.

  “I-is there anything you need?” Masahiro said.

  Okaru forced a smile. Her lips looked soft, bruised. “No, but thank you for asking.” She added, “I’m sorry I was mean to you yesterday.”

  “That’s all right.” Masahiro was embarrassed and unhappy to see her so sad. “They caught the man who attacked my grandfather,” he blurted out.

  “I know,” Okaru said. “I heard one of the guards tell Lieutenant Tanuma.” Sighing, she twisted her hair around her hand. “I feel so bad that your mother thinks I had something to do with the attack. She thinks I’m a dog who bites the hand that feeds me. But I can understand why she does. Girls like me … well, we’re famous for causing trouble and taking advantage of people. But your mother has been so good to me.” Her eyes briefly glowed with her affection for Reiko, then filled with anguish. “I would never do anything to hurt her family. Never!”

  She wasn’t angry, Masahiro saw. He would have been furious at anyone who wrongfully accused him. But Okaru made excuses for his mother and blamed herself. “I believe you,” he said, carried away by the conviction in her voice and his admiration for her.

  “You do?” Delight bloomed on Okaru’s face. “Oh, thank you!” She sprang up and threw her arms around Masahiro.

  Masahiro was so surprised that his eyes popped and he choked on his breath. He lost his balance and fell onto the bed, dragging Okaru with him. Exhilaration and rapture filled him as she hugged him and pressed her cheek against his. He felt the softness of her skin, the warmth of her body, and her breasts touching his chest. He wanted to hold Okaru. He strained away from her because he was afraid that if she knew how he felt, she would be upset.

  Now her face was wet with tears. Masahiro awkwardly stroked her hair as she cried, trying to comfort her. Its silky strands tangled in his fingers. He couldn’t bear to take pleasure from her that she hadn’t offered, but his desire and excitement leaped even higher than when he’d watched her in the bath chamber.

  Her arms loosened their embrace; she drew back. “You remind me of my little brother who died.” She cupped his cheek in her soft hand and smiled mistily.

  Desire vanished. Her little brother! That was how Okaru thought of him. Not as a man she could like, or even a friend, but as a child.

  Masahiro didn’t have time to feel the worst of his mortification, because he heard his mother’s voice say sharply, “Masahiro! Okaru!”

  * * *

  Alarmed, Reiko stared at her son and Okaru sprawled on the bed. The girl had her arm around Masahiro and her hand cradling his cheek. Masahiro’s hand was in Okaru’s hair. They turned at the sound of her voice.

  “What are you doing?” Reiko asked.

  They sprang apart and stood up. Reiko saw Masahiro’s face turn red, and fear in Okaru’s eyes. Suddenly she recalled her conversation with Chiyo. Now she understood: Chiyo had been trying to warn her about what could happen when a boy on the verge of manhood and a beautiful young girl lived under the same roof. Chiyo must have noticed an attraction between Masahiro and Okaru. Reiko belatedly realized what had happened. Okaru had a broken heart and needed comfort; Masahiro was experiencing the sexual desires that boys did. It was natural that they should come together.

  Reiko turned on Okaru. “Were you seducing my son?”

  “No,” Okaru said in a small, chagrined tone. “It’s not what you think.”

  Reiko was shocked, even though she knew that samurai boys began having sex at an early age and it was considered acceptable as long as they confined themselves to women from the lower classes and didn’t ruin girls from good families who were reserved for marriage. Reiko had caught Sano’s young retainers coupling with the maids and politely looked the other way. But Masahiro wasn’t grown up enough for sex!

  “Mother,” Masahiro said. The word was half protest, half plea. He looked miserable.

  The idea of him with Okaru filled Reiko with aversion, even though she’d prided herself on overlooking class distinctions. She’d taken the girl into her house, and Okaru had blithely helped herself to Reiko’s son! No matter that Okaru was innocent of the attack on Magistrate Ueda, she was dangerous. Inexperienced boys like Masahiro often fell in love with girls like Okaru. The affairs begat jealousies, quarrels, duels between men vying for the same girl, and often babies. Custom forbade such couples to marry, and too often they committed shinju, double love suicide. Reiko saw a new, perilous world opening up for Masahiro. She’d tried so hard to protect him from his father’s political enemies, but she’d not thought to shield his heart.

  “Go to your room,” Reiko told him, angry at her own obliviousness, wanting to separate Masahiro from Okaru and shut the door on his new world even though it was too late.

  He started to protest, to defend Okaru. Lieutenant Tanuma rushed into the room.

  “Where have you been?” Reiko asked Tanuma. “Didn’t I tell you to watch Okaru?” Before he could answer, she said, “Take Masahiro to his room.”

  Tanuma and Masahiro slunk out like whipped puppies. Reiko turned to Okaru. The girl knelt on the bed, hands clasped behind her back, like a child caught stealing candy.

  “Now,” Reiko said in as level a tone as she could manage. “Explain what you were doing with my son.”

  “Nothing,” Okaru said. “I hugged him because he was kind to me. That’s all.”

  But Reiko had seen the look on Masahiro’s face while he and Okaru were touching. A hug could easily lead to other things-perhaps things that had already happened when she wasn’t there to see. For the first time she experienced the jealousy of a mother who realized that someday she would no longer be the woman her son loved best.

  “You’ll stay away from Masahiro from now on,” Reiko said. “Do you understand?”

  Okaru nodded, her complexion gray, lips pressed together as if she feared that if she spoke she would be sick. Her eyes were huge and solemn.

  “Good.” Reiko felt a pang of shame for treating the girl so harshly. She remembered why she’d come to see Okaru. “I have news. My husband and I have found out who’s responsible for the attack on my father. It’s not you. You’re exonerated.”

  Tears of relief spilled from Okaru’s eyes. She murmured, “Thank the gods. I prayed that I would be proved innocent.” She gazed up at Reiko in sudden apprehension. “Does that mean you’re letting me go?”

  Reiko knew she was thinking of the cold night and her lack of a place to stay. “You don’t have to go now.” Reiko wa
sn’t heartless enough to put the girl out. “Tomorrow I’ll have my husband’s troops escort you and Goza home to Miyako.”

  “A thousand thanks. You’re so kind even though you think badly of me. I’m sorry I’ve displeased you.” Okaru smiled nervously. “But … I wish I could stay in Edo and see what happens to Oishi. I can’t help hoping…”

  “That he’ll be pardoned and he’ll take you back? I’m afraid I have more news,” Reiko said, unable to resist a little spite. “Oishi has reunited with his wife. If he lives, he’ll be going to her, not you.”

  The smile vanished from Okaru’s face, which turned white. Her eyes rolled up, and she fell onto the bed in a dead faint.

  * * *

  Reiko summoned a doctor to care for Okaru, then went after Masahiro. He was in his room, kneeling at a table on which toy soldiers were set in battle formation. His hands fidgeted atop his knees. He wore an expression she’d never seen before-a mixture of anger, pride, and shame. As Reiko sat beside him, he glanced up at her, then down at the soldiers again. She felt uncomfortable and shy, as if he were a stranger, not her little boy.

  “I didn’t know you liked Okaru,” she ventured.

  Masahiro scowled. An almost visible barrier loomed between them. Although he’d never had secrets from her, he did now. Reiko was surprised at how much it hurt.

  “It’s understandable that you would like her,” Reiko said. “Boys do become interested in girls. And Okaru is very pretty.”

  Masahiro picked up a toy soldier and examined it with studied concentration.

  “There are some things I must talk to you about,” Reiko said. “When a boy and a girl … get close … well, the girl might have a baby.”

  A blush reddened Masahiro’s face. Reiko’s own face felt hot. She’d never talked to him about sex. She’d thought his father would do it later, but it couldn’t be put off. How much did Masahiro already know? He’d seen animals mating and the young born, but Reiko wasn’t sure he was aware that the same process happened with humans.