“Toshiro,” Asaka said.
He stiffened at the familiar voice. Mustering his will, he forced his eyes open and looked back toward the samurai.
“Is there a problem?” Dots of green light flared from Asaka’s mask with an intensity he didn’t like.
“No, sir. Everything’s fine.” Tearing his eyes away from the samurai’s questioning gaze, he forced himself to go on and take his readings. When it was over, sleep took him again.
Each time he was awakened, he hoped the dream would be over. Each time, to his chagrin, he found it wasn’t a dream but reality, and it looked like it would stay that way.
Feeling exhausted, though he’d had no trouble sleeping through the night, he gladly made his way below after being dismissed. Toshi was barely conscious of Mitsuo’s presence as the latter followed him.
Finding Miko waiting for him in his room, he saw his breakfast was already laid out for him. Bowing toward her but saying nothing, he set his basket down in the far corner of the room. He waited patiently for Mitsuo to lay down his covers and then wrapped himself in them. The old samurai shrugged in answer to Miko’s questioning look. Mitsuo left, staring strangely at him.
“Toshi-kun, your breakfast is getting cold,” Miko said.
“Oh.” Glancing at her as if he’d noticed her for the first time, he distractedly reached for the bowl of soup before him.
“How was the sailing tonight?”
“Fine.”
“Did you sleep well?” she asked.
“Yes.” He could feel Miko’s eyes on him, though his never rose to meet them.
“Is something wrong, Toshi-kun?” she asked with a touch of worry.
“No.”
“Have I done something to offend you?” She leaned toward him.
“No.” He began eating in earnest to cut off any further conversation. He maintained his silence even after he’d finished eating. Miko quietly gathered his empty dishes and headed toward the door. She never saw the look of abject misery that followed her out.
He didn’t look up when the geisha returned, but stared instead at the floor. He forced his expression to become blank. He was grateful when Miko didn’t try to talk to him. He did glance up, however, as he came to realize she wasn’t alone. He saw Mitsuo standing before him even as Miko set up her koto in the corner. Toshi got up slowly, his hand on the boken at his side, knowing what was expected of him.
As Miko tuned her instrument, Mitsuo helped him fold back his long sleeves as he told him what maneuvers he wanted to see. Nodding, but never looking straight at his teacher, he got into position. His bruised shoulder protested as he did the necessary quick sweeping movements with his boken. Making himself concentrate, he tried to ignore the burning question that had come to encompass his every waking thought.
He never noticed as Mitsuo came at him from the side. He dropped in two blows.
“You are not concentrating.” Mitsuo’s words were more of an accusation than a statement.
Without comment, Toshi forced himself up and started again where he’d left off. He tried his best to keep his attention on the lesson, but his thoughts just wouldn’t leave him alone. Every time his concentration lapsed, Mitsuo would deftly step forward and drop him with just one or two blows.
Trying to use his new pains as a reminder, he tried again to push all things from his mind, leaving only his concentration on his movements. He fared a little better after that.
“Time for lunch,” Miko said.
Toshi brushed some loose strands of hair from his face, hoping it wasn’t a trick of some kind. Glancing toward the door, he saw Miko was, indeed, coming in with food. He bowed toward Mitsuo, hoping to be dismissed, and breathed a sigh of relief as the bow was returned. Moving with a slight limp, he grabbed his blankets and sat down.
His body hurt, yet he felt good. He no longer felt as tired as he had when he’d awakened. He smiled as Miko passed him a cup of tea. Drinking it fast, despite the burns it left on his tongue, he also reached for some fish. He felt unusually hungry.
“You look as if you feel better, Toshi-kun.” Miko sounded happy.
He glanced up at her for a moment before returning all of his attention back to his food.
“Perhaps Mitsuo-san ought to be working you harder.”
He choked on the piece of fish he was swallowing. He glanced around to see if Mitsuo had heard her comment. It was only then he realized his teacher was gone.
“That really wouldn’t be necessary, Miko-san.”
“Wouldn’t it?” she asked.
He slumped, praying she was just teasing him.
“I have some water heating for you,” she said. “Mitsuo-san graciously decided you should have the afternoon free. There are many games I’d like for us to play today.”
“If you like, Miko-san.”
“Good. You see, you need some loosening up, and I’m just the woman for the job.”
Her light tone made him happy, but her words reminded him of his own problem. Trying not to let it show, he hurried through the rest of his meal.
“Sit right there and rest, I won’t be long,” Miko said.
Left alone, he found it harder and harder to keep his thoughts away from his problem. The same question repeated itself over and over in his mind, with no answer in sight.
By the time Miko returned with his bath water, his mental exhaustion was wearing on him again. He tried to keep his feelings from showing but knew he wasn’t being overtly successful.
He washed his body. After that, Miko offered to wash his hair for him. Having no reason to say no, he nodded and watched her sadly as she retrieved the extra bucket. A new question occurred to him—did she know about the choice Asaka had asked him to make?
He leaned forward as Miko asked, and she undid his ponytail. White strands fell past his face and he shivered, his mind wanting to know how much more might be demanded from him if he decided to go.
But why should he think of going? He had done enough—more than enough. Asaka had even told him so.
He jumped as Miko poured warm water over his bent head. With experienced fingers, she soaped and cleaned his hair. He shivered, still undressed beneath his blankets. The cold seeped into his wet head and deepened the worry and confusion already moving like a maelstrom inside him. He tried to sit still as she first dried and then combed out his hair.
“Which game do you think you’d like to try first?” she asked.
“I really don’t feel like playing any games today.”
“Oh?”
He tried not to look at her as her masked face lowered beside him trying to catch a glimpse of his own.
“Toshi-kun, what’s troubling you?”
“Nothing—” He clamped his mouth shut, not trusting himself to say more without giving too much away.
“You and I both know that isn’t so. Even Mitsuo-san has noticed something is not right.”
“There’s nothing wrong!” He regretted his outburst as soon as the words left his mouth. He kept his lips shut tight and waited for her to press him again. When she didn’t, but only continued combing out his hair, he felt an odd panic flow up inside him. He wanted to ask her questions, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. How was he to tell her of his uncertainty? How could he tell her he might not want to help her gain the freedom she so sought?
He stood, startling the geisha, and walked away, his blankets coiled about his naked form. A need was burning in him, but he didn’t know how to get rid of it. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to get rid of it. No one of his station had ever been meant to bear so much. He was only a peasant!
He turned around and stared at her. She sat absolutely still, gazing at his tortured face.
“Why, Miko-san, why ? I don’t understand why.”
“‘Why’ what, Toshi-kun?” Her voice was a whisper. Soft blue light shone in her eyes.
He twisted away, feeling his confusion and near despair trying to overwhelm him.
“From
what you said before, I had understood my time with you wasn’t over, that my services would still be needed. And I had expected what he said. I’d known all along what he would say.” His words came out in a rush. “But, Miko-san, he didn’t order me to do it. He didn’t tell me what he wanted so I would do it, as all servants must. He—he asked me! He wants me to make the choice. I don’t understand it, and I can’t. I can’t !” He doubled over, his own words causing a pain inside him.
“Toshi-kun, don’t you realize the honor that’s been given to you? The freedom?” she asked him.
“According to our ways, you are his, body and soul. He could just have ordered you to go on this journey, and you would have had to comply. Instead, he’s given you a choice, a freedom many of us never get, a chance to choose your own path. The freedom to make your own life.”
Miko appeared at his side, though he never heard her move.
“I don’t see how I’m free. I can’t choose!” He felt ill. How could she believe this was freedom?
“You must choose, and you will,” she insisted. “Go with what your heart tells you. Don’t think of us, think of yourself.”
He looked up at her in confused horror, his face puffed and tear-streaked. “How can I think of myself?
You’re all damned! I would make me go if I were in your place. Why should I have my own way? Don’t you want to be free?”
Miko reached out and caressed his flushed face. “What an enigma you are sometimes. Such selfless naivity” she said. “It just doesn’t fit our times.”
He could only stare at her. Her words only helped add to his confusion. “Miko-san, I don’t understand.”
Her hand tenderly traveled past his cheek to his shoulder. She grabbed his blankets and pulled forward.
He fell with a small gasp, and before he knew it he was wrapped in her arms. Though he tried hard to pull away, she wouldn’t let go of him.
“You must choose what’s in your heart, Toshi-kun,” she said. “Don’t pick one way because you owe someone or another because we’re doomed. Don’t pick one because you believe you’ll succeed or another because you might fail. Rather, choose the one you can live with. Choose from your heart.”
He let her cradle him in her arms, knowing what she was doing, knowing it was the same thing Asaka had done. Tears ran down his face, staining her kimono as he cried.
Chapter 19
It was some time later when Toshi got dressed. Night was falling on the world above. Feeling more calm, but still undecided, he ate a little before heading up.
The next few days crawled by. He spent his time practicing under Mitsuo’s guidance or amusing himself with Miko’s games and stories. He never again brought up the topic of his upcoming choice. Miko did the same. Most of the time, he tried to pretend his problem didn’t even exist—though, in the end, he was only too aware it wouldn’t make any difference.
When he couldn’t set those thoughts aside, however, he could feel a strange tension building inside him as time ran out. No one pressed him. Everyone treated him as they always had before. Even Asaka ignored him as usual. The lack of pressure grated on his nerves. It looked like he’d be making the decision on his own whether he liked it or not.
*
“It is time to go below, Toshiro-san,” Mitsuo said.
He opened his eyes and stared at the old samurai in incomprehension. Had something gone wrong? He’d only been awakened twice so far. “Go below?”
“Yes. It’s almost dawn.”
He sat up and began gathering his things, even as his mind fought to understand what the discrepancy meant.
He looked out over the dark sea, but couldn’t see far. However, he realized he didn’t need to see to know there was land out there and that it was very close. He could smell it in the air—the faint scent of fish and grass that hadn’t been there before. He hadn’t been awakened for a reading because the ship had come to waters the crew were familiar with.
His stomach knotted. Their sea journey was almost at an end. His time of decision would soon be upon him. With a nervous glance, he looked at their lord as he descended to the lower deck. Asaka sat, as unapproachable as ever, in no way acknowledging he knew Toshi was leaving the deck. He hurried to his room.
“Good morning, Toshi-kun.”
“Good morning, Miko-san.” His voice was muffled as he draped his blankets around him. Settling down, it occurred to him to wonder if she had any idea they were close to the coast. He pulled the map out of his basket and tried to gauge how much farther they had to go.
“Where are we?” she asked.
He hesitated for a moment before pointing to a spot on the map. “I think we’re somewhere around here.”
“It won’t be much longer, will it?” Her tone was neutral.
He had to swallow hard before he could answer. “No.”
Time had almost run out on him. With a small shiver, he rolled up the map and put it back. His eyes strayed to the cause of all his woes.
The black kettle sat just as he’d left it, its bright-emblazoned sun sparkling in the ship’s eerie light. He tore his gaze away from it, hating it for putting him in this situation. Though he no longer had an appetite, he made himself eat, lest he give Miko the impression something was wrong.
All through the day, his upcoming decision occupied all of his thoughts. It interfered with his practice session, though up to that point he’d been making some progress. He earned a number of new bruises for his lack of concentration.
He lost every game he played with Miko that afternoon as well. Eventually, she gave up on trying to distract him and left him to his thoughts.
Though he’d pondered on it all day, he still hadn’t made up his mind as time ran out. He had to make a decision. He had no choice. Asaka would be expecting no hesitation from him once he put forth the question to him again. Yet it made no difference. He had no idea what he wanted to do.
Later, he let himself be led topside. His body was coiled with tension as he made the only computation needed that night. He lay down as expected, but couldn’t sleep. He kept his eyes closed, his choices spinning round and round in his head.
If he went, he might never reach Narashi. If he stayed, the crew would remain damned. If he went, they might be freed. If he stayed, he’d doom someone else to do their bidding.
“Asaka-sama, the bay lies around this bend. Should I stop us here?” This came from the steersman.
Toshi’s eyes snapped open. He turned on his side and looked at Asaka. The samurai rose from his stool, his gaze locked to their left.
“Do not turn inland, but continue straight ahead.” His voice was as impassive as ever. “Bring us to the same position we held on our last visit here.”
“Hai.”
Toshi held his breath as green, flashing eyes glanced in his direction. The samurai’s gaze held his own, telling him the time of choosing was almost at hand. He looked away, knowing he still had no answer. He slowly sat up and stared out past the rail.
A dark mass rose grandly from the sea, obscuring everything beyond it. Though its features were indistinct, he could still see where it curved away not far ahead of them. Unwillingly, his gaze remained there. He knew once they’d crossed it he would be in the waters of the bay of his childhood, the place he’d always called home. He’d made it back.
The large knot in his stomach grew tighter, an unreasoning fear blooming inside him now that he’d returned. His hands shook as he took the telescope from his basket and held it in his moist hands as the ship crossed into the bay.
He held his breath as they cleared the last bit of land. With a soft click, he extended the telescope and brought it to his waiting eye.
Darkness lay like a cloak across the city. Only a few dots of light tried to break past the illusion. These dots sat out over the docks, acting like beacons welcoming late-arriving ships home. Using the power of the telescope and the few lights about, he was able to make out most of the ships at dock. With a pang of guilt
and pain, he located the Corazon , Captain Valez’s ship. It sat just as he’d seen it last.
“Toshiro, it is time for you to go below,” Asaka said.
Memories of the strange gaijin friend crowded into Toshi’s mind—his askew mustached grin, his odd foreign views on things, his contagious sense of humor.
With a queer stillness brewing in him, Toshi turned away from the sight. “Hai, Asaka-sama.”
After gathering his things, he went below. Mitsuo followed after him.
“We are there, Toshi-kun?” Miko asked as he came into the room.
He found he couldn’t look at her. “Yes, Miko-san.”
He knew she was aware of what was to come. In minutes, he felt the ship sink into the sea. He buried himself deep in his covers, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the ever-present cold.
He looked up as Miko caressed his cheek. He thought she was about to say something when the sound of a deep bell rang outside the door.
“I’ll be back, Toshi-chan. I shouldn’t be gone long.” She stared at him for a long moment before going on. “Would you like some tea when I return, or would something stronger be in order?”
She tilted her head playfully toward him as she rose to her feet.
“I would prefer the tea, if you don’t mind,” he said. “I don’t think I could handle sake very well just now.”
“As you wish.”
He watched her leave and then glanced over at Mitsuo as the latter closed the door. His teacher said nothing. Toshi did nothing to disturb the silence.
With a deep sigh, he attempted once again to push his troubled thoughts aside. He tried to think of some way to distract himself but came up with nothing. His spinning thoughts wouldn’t go away.
Miko returned, her eyes bright as she came into the room, bowing formally in his direction. “Lord Asaka requests the honor of your presence in his chambers.”
A lump jumped and settled tight into his throat. The moment he’d been dreading was upon him. He stumbled over his words. “I—I would be honored to meet with him.”
Gloria Oliver Page 17
