by India Millar
“Shinobu-san. Please, come in. Mind your head, the door is low.”
I put my hand to my mouth to hide a smile. The name Shinobu means “endurance,” no doubt a reference to Yo’s training; that, and the less than subtle pun on his profession. Matsuo looked at me with troubled eyes and I held my finger up to him, instructing him to sit and wait. He obeyed me at once. If only all men were so dependable!
The inside of the shack was no better than I expected. I hoped Reiki would not ask us to sit, but she did. Even though I knew she couldn’t see me, I kept my expression neutral as I lowered myself to the filthy tatami matting. As soon as I sat, my body itched.
“Welcome back, Shinobu-san. And this is the lady you spoke of? The one who wanted to see me?” She stared at me with her white eyes, and immediately I was a child again, sure Isamu had invited a witch into our house. “Do I know you, lady?”
I was so startled, I jumped with surprise. I had my body under control almost at once, but I guessed that Reiki had felt my shock.
“I don’t think so, Reiki-san,” I said politely.
“Is that so? If you’re not sure we’ve met, then we certainly don’t know each other.” She smiled cynically, and I realized she couldn’t be as old as I had thought. Her teeth were all there and good. And an old woman would never have been able to sit cross-legged so comfortably. “If you have already met me, you would never forget me. But I don’t know you. I don’t recollect your voice. Or your smell. No matter. What do you need so badly that you found your way to me? I doubt it’s problems with your man here. He strikes me as being extremely vigorous. Has he already got a troublesome wife that you want made barren so he has an excuse to get rid of her for you? Or is it you that can’t bear him children?” She sniffed the air noisily. “No. Not you either. You smell all right to me.”
“How do you know?” Was she pretending wisdom she didn’t have to impress us?
“You sound like a young woman, and you move as if you’re used to exercise and enjoy it. And I would guess from the smell of your skin that you’re nearly due for your moon phase.” I nodded, awestruck. She could really tell all that without even being able to see me? Embarrassed, I realized I needed to speak as she couldn’t see me, but Reiki cut me off. “There’s something else about you, child. Something I can’t pin down. There’s much anger in you that’s nothing to do with him.” She nodded curtly at Yo. “Is it that anger that’s brought you to see me? I hope it is. I like anger. It warms my old bones.”
“You’re not old,” I interrupted. “Or at least, not as old as you pretend to be.”
“Who is she, Shinobu?” She stared at me, but spoke to Yo. “She’s trouble, this one. Why have you brought her to me? I might like the anger that burns inside her, but I don’t want to be the one that suffers for it. What do you want from me, girl?”
“I want you to teach me the skills of an anma,” I said. “I need to be as good as you are.”
Yo turned his head to look at me, his eyebrows raised in surprise. I was pleased; he had not guessed what I planned after all. Reiki’s head jerked from me to him and then came back and rested on me. I met those blind, white eyes firmly. Even though I knew she could not see me, still they worried me. I would have to get used to that. She was going to help me whether she—or Yo—liked it or not.
“Why?” she asked. I had expected her to sneer at me. To tell me it took years to learn to be an anma. That all anma were blind, so my request was hopeless. She might even have taken offense at my request, thinking that I had come here to tease her to amuse myself. The single word threw me off balance. Those dreadful eyes stared into my mind and I knew that nothing but the truth would suffice.
“You’re Lord Akafumu’s anma.” I hesitated even then; was it safe to speak honestly to Reiki? Yo lifted his hand in warning, but I ignored him. This was my one chance. If I did not take it, then I might as well admit I was defeated now, before I had even begun. I stared at Reiki and saw the slightest hunch of her shoulders as she heard the daimyo’s name. It was enough. I sensed her hatred and relaxed. We stared at each other for a moment, the sightless anma and I, and finally she nodded. Her next words surprised me.
“Give me your hand,” she instructed. She ran her nail along my fingers, swirling it in the middle of my palm. I noticed that her hands were immaculately clean, and in contrast to her face, they were smooth and white. Finished, she clasped my hand in her fingers, stroking it as if I was a child in need of comfort. “Not a working woman’s hand. A lady’s hand. But strong. Very strong. You have great power in that hand. I feel that same power inside you. What do you want with the daimyo?”
“I intend to crush him. To take away everything precious to him. To leave his body alive but his spirit only living enough to know what he has lost.”
The words came out with no thought at all. Reiki put her head to one side and smiled.
“Such hatred. I wonder what he’s done to you to deserve that? No matter. You’re not going to tell me. And you think I can help you, do you? How is teaching you to become a masseuse going to do that?”
I surprised myself by speaking the absolute truth. Somehow, I felt that this sightless woman would see straight through anything else I tried to tell her.
“It’s the only way I can think of that will allow me to gain Akafumu’s trust so that he allows me to get close to him.”
“He’s happy about this, is he?” She jerked her head toward Yo.
“If it puts my lady in danger, I’m not happy at all,” Yo said quietly. “But she’ll do what she feels is right, no matter how much I dislike it. That being the case, it is surely better to help her than try and hinder her. Whatever she wants to do, I will be there for her.”
“You’re a fine pair together,” Reiki said. I caught sadness beneath her sneering tone, but it vanished abruptly. I guessed she was aware of her moment of weakness and angry with herself for showing it. “What else do you want from me, samurai woman?”
Was that a wild guess, or did Reiki truly see far more than those who were gifted with sight? I smiled, hoping the smile would sound in my voice.
“You can get closer to Akafumu than anybody. I want to be able to do that. I want to stand at his side and see him naked and helpless. I need you to teach me all the arts of taking pain away from a man’s body. And of putting pain where there was none before. My senses have been well trained already, I promise you. I can find my way about as well with my eyes shut as when they are open. Blindfold me, close up my ears, pinch my nostrils shut, and I will find my way about almost as well as you can. I know I can learn the crafts of an anma. And…” I paused, choosing my words carefully. “When I’ve learned all you can teach me, I want to take your place as Akafumu’s masseuse.”
Reiki was silent for a long time. Yo and I were very still as we waited for her to speak.
“I believe you could learn,” Reiki said finally. “Most people can’t endure silence. They would have been tempted to speak, or at least shuffle about. But not you two. You both have the gift of stillness. You’re dangerous, the pair of you. If I had any sense, I would throw you out now and pretend I had never come within touching distance of you.” She paused and we waited again. “I have no reason to love Lord Akafumu. He pays me when he thinks of it. Leaves me to starve if he forgets. Calls me to him at any time of the day or night if he has so much as a twinge in his toe. I’ve lost many good patrons because of him.”
Her voice was very cold. There was something else, I felt it.
“What else does he do to you, Reiki-san?” I asked softly. She moved very slightly, and I sensed she was about to speak and say something meaningful. Yo’s growing anger made him break his silence, and the moment was lost.
“Akafumu is not fit to be a daimyo,” he said. “A peasant would show more mercy to his mule than that man does to those he should be protecting. I hope the gods allow him to be punished as he should be.”
“We can but hope so, Shinobu,” Reiki said. “If I c
an help the gods in this matter, I shall die a happy woman. But in the meantime, I am very much alive. I assume you will make it worth my while to take such a huge risk?”
“Of course,” Yo said.
Reiki stared at me and said nothing.
Six
The mantis scissors
And death follows. Why does her
Prey not dodge away?
I almost gave up in the first few weeks. I had thought it difficult enough to learn the skills of onna-bugeisha, but that had been nothing compared to this. I was deeply disheartened, sure that I would never gain the expertise I needed to become a decent masseuse. I was clumsy, inept; the whole thing had been a mistake. I would never succeed. I moaned to Yo about it, barely admitting to myself that if he agreed with me and told me to stop, then I would accept his advice. Reluctantly, of course.
He stared at me for a moment, his face unreadable.
“It’s up to you. If you don’t feel you can go through with it, then stop. Nobody is forcing you to go on with it. We’ll think of something else.” He shrugged. I sensed he was surprised, and I was deeply ashamed of myself. I knew I should be grateful to Yo for his understanding. Was there any other man in Japan who would be as supportive as he was? I doubted it. I should, undoubtedly, be grateful to him. But I had spent the whole of my life being thankful for any scrap that was thrown to me, and I was deeply weary of it. My mixed emotions spilled out as anger. I spoke far more sharply than I intended.
“It’s all right for you. All you have to do is sit there and watch me fail. I suppose you’d be happy if I did give up so you could go off and practice your trade as a highly paid mercenary, available for hire to anybody who had your price in their purse?”
I wished I had bitten my tongue and kept my words to myself as soon as I spoke. Yo turned a stone face to me and then stood up and left without saying a word. I sat stiffly when he had gone, staring into space. I thought wryly that Reiki had given me the right name when—after my first few lessons—she had cackled with amusement and said that from now on, she intended to call me “Kamakiri.” Mantis. Even without eyes, she could see how angular I was. How my legs and arms were too long to be graceful. How skinny I was. How even my cheekbones were sharp enough to cut any man who touched my face. And equally clearly, she could see inside me. See that my character was the same as my outward appearance, prickly and quick to take offense. I shrugged to myself. At least I had the virtue of honesty. Nobody could ever accuse me of trying to be something I was not.
“You’re too hard on yourself.”
Yo had come back in without me seeing or hearing him.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized reluctantly. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it.”
“Yes, you did,” Yo said. “You meant every word of it. And you’re right, of course. That’s what I do. It’s what any shinobi does. We’re mercenaries. We work for the highest bidder and walk away afterward. It’s all I know, Keiko. I can’t change. And for that matter, I don’t want to change. It’s the tradition of my family, just as yours is the code of bushido. We’re not so different, you and I. You would do the same as me if you felt it was the right thing to do. That’s the only difference between us. You look upon yourself as honorable. I have no honor.”
Yo sounded hurt, and I understood that this was important to him. I took a deep breath and for once thought carefully before I spoke.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I was angry with myself and took it out on you.”
“Just because Reiki calls you Kamakiri doesn’t mean you need to act like one. I’d like to be able to sleep after making love to you without worrying I might wake up to find myself being eaten.”
It took me a moment to realize that Yo was teasing me. I smiled and he smiled with me, and we were right together again. But I thought about what he had said and grudgingly decided that he was right. Perhaps more so than he realized. I chose to justify my actions by relying on the code of the samurai. Yo was honest about what he did. It was a profoundly uncomfortable insight.
We didn’t speak of it again. But the knowledge that there was a chance that I might fail made me stubborn and I returned to Reiki with a new determination.
“That hurt you,” Reiki stated. She had no need to tell me, I had felt the pain. I exhaled deeply and nodded.
The anma had told me that the only way to learn her craft was for her to demonstrate it to me. On my body. That way, she said, I would learn quickly and not forget.
“The body cannot remember pain. If it did, then no woman would ever have more than one child,” she instructed me. “Because of that, it is necessary to repeat the lesson.”
Reiki caused me pain every time I went to learn from her. But today was different. I moaned as she pressed on my ribs. She did not press hard, but the pain caused by her fingers was extraordinary. I thought my heart was about to burst between my ribs. Only the slightest increase in pressure and I was sure I would be dead. She took her hand away and I was appalled to find the pain hardly lessened. Before, whenever she had taken her hand away from my body, the pain had stopped at once.
I lifted my head and looked at her, entreating her to stop the hurt. I had long ago ceased to worry that she couldn’t see me. Reiki’s other senses were, if anything, even more acute than mine. Just as I could, she would feel the displacement of air at the slightest movement. But far more than that, I had become sure that she could read thoughts that I left unspoken. I teased Yo that even he would never be able to surprise Reiki, and he agreed with me.
“Thank the gods she isn’t shinobi,” he said. “With her talents and the fact that I doubt she has any conscience at all, she could assassinate the shogun himself and not be caught.”
I smiled with him, but his words pleased me more than he knew. Nobody would ever worry about an anma. A blind masseuse could go anywhere unnoticed and unchallenged.
“Still hurts, does it?” I heard satisfaction in Reiki’s voice and replied shortly.
“You know it does.” I gasped.
“Good. Now, you tell me how to stop it. Or even better, show me.”
I could barely breathe. I was sure she had broken one of my ribs and that it was pressing on my lung. My heart was racing so fast with the intense pain, I thought it was going to explode at any moment. Reiki had inflicted this agony on me. How was I supposed to be able to put right her wrongs? I couldn’t speak. I reached out and scrabbled for her robe, wordlessly begging her to put an end to my suffering. She slapped my hand away briskly and stood with all the fluid grace of a young woman. If I had not been sure I was about to die, I would have appreciated her poise. My mouth fell open in horror as she moved away from me.
She was not going to help me. I was going to die in agony lying on filthy tatami matting in a hut that was still damp from yesterday’s rain. I hated Reiki for doing this to me. I hated Yo for not making me give up. And above all else, I hated myself for failing.
I bared my teeth in a silent howl of pain. My hand felt dead, but I found with an enormous effort that I could move my arm. I forced it up to my ribs, a jerk at a time. Because I couldn’t feel my fingers, I pressed too hard at first and, unbelievably, my agony intensified. I found an odd kind of satisfaction in the increase in pain; if it could get worse, then I was not about to die. Or at least, not yet. I tried again, searching for the exact spot where Reiki had pressed. There! I was beginning to be able to feel my fingers, and I pressed with very great care this time. Immediately, the pain lessened to a dull ache. I gasped in relief.
“It still hurts, does it?” Reiki asked.
“No. Not at all,” I said quickly, terrified that if I admitted my ribs felt as if they had been squeezed by a sumo wrestler, she would cause me yet more pain.
“You’re lying,” she said calmly. “Move your thumb a hair’s width to the left. That’s it. Press there.”
Suddenly, not only had the pain gone completely, but I felt rested, as if I had awoken refreshed from a deep sleep.
>
“Thank you,” I said from my very heart.
“Thank yourself,” Reiki snapped. “You healed yourself. Not me.”
She sat down again, crossing her legs. I sat up and faced her. She was silent for so long I thought the tough old woman had fallen asleep where she sat. I was so relaxed I almost slipped into sleep myself and shook myself awake. Reiki was grinning at me, and I knew I had misjudged her. She was alert, as always.
“How does it work, Reiki?” I asked curiously. “How can a simple touch either cause great pain or bring relief?”
“Have you ever watched an acupuncture master at work?” Reiki demanded. I nodded, puzzled. I had seen it done, but only once, when Isamu dislocated his shoulder after falling from his horse. He had been in agony, but the acupuncture master had reduced his pain almost miraculously. Emiko and I had peeped through the shoji, watching and cringing as needle after needle was pushed into Isamu’s skin, some near his shoulder and others down his side and in his leg. We drew in our breath sharply as the acupuncture master tweaked each needle in turn, causing them to vibrate.
Emiko pointed to her leg and raised her eyebrows. I shrugged, as puzzled as she was as to how a needle in his leg could possibly cure pain in Isamu’s shoulder. But it did. Not long after the needles were extracted, Isamu could rotate his shoulder with no pain at all.
“Then you understand. What I do is a little similar to acupuncture.”
“But you don’t use needles,” I protested.
“My art is far older than acupuncture. And better. Anma were healing long before needles were ever thought of. But just like acupuncture, I use the channels of energy that flow through the body to heal. It doesn’t matter if the body belongs to a man or a horse, the principle is the same. But unlike the acupuncture masters, as long as I have my hands and my feet, I can practice my art anywhere, with no need for any other materials.”
