The 47 Ronin Story (16 page)

"What about your other customers, girl? Can you afford to devote yourself to one at the expense of the others?"

"That's my business," she said with a laugh.

"But why pick a dissolute old man like me?"

"I'll tell you a secret, old man," she said mysteriously. "You're not that many years older than I am."

Oishi nodded. "Perhaps that's why you're more attractive to me than the rest—I mean . . ." He stopped, flustered, aware that he had said more than he meant to. He waited for her to laugh at his slip but she merely waited for him to finish.

"I mean that young girls are foolish. But so are men when they reach my age."

"But not you."

"How can you say that?" he asked in astonishment. "I'm the biggest buffoon in Kyoto. You saw a sample of my behavior in the theater yesterday."

"Just as I don't think you are so old, I don't think you are so silly," she said matter-of-factly.

"What do you see in me?" he asked, raising his voice in exasperation.

"Perhaps I see someone who has suffered from a loss of position and I sympathize with him."

"Sympathize or pity?" he asked cuttingly.

"Oh, I don't pity you. I feel that someday you will regain what is rightfully yours. As you know, a man

is in a better position to do that than a woman is."

Oishi stared at her. She seemed to be telling him quite frankly that she knew all about him. Or was this merely the manner of the geisha, a smile and a soothing word for everyone?

"YouVe talking nonsense," he told her. "What I've lost can never be regained—and all the determination in the world won't help get it back."

"Whatever you say," she smilingly agreed.

"You saw me at the theater," he said in a weary voice. "You still think after that disgraceful exhibition that I am a fighter."

"If necessary," she nodded, "I think you could be."

"And what leads you to that conclusion?"

"Just from what I know of you, in the few times we've met. For example, I have an idea that things went pretty much as you wanted them to in the theater."

Oishi was startled. "What do you mean?"

For an answer she got up out of the bed and moved toward the corner where he had thrown his sword the night before.

"I've made a bet with myself about your sword," she said, picking it up in its scabbard. Oishi made an involuntary move to stop her, then quietly lay back to see what she would do. "I've bet that it's not as rusty as you pretend."

She moved back to stand over him in her flimsy nightdress, her hand on the hilt of the sword. "Am I right?"

He stared at her, realizing that there was nothing he could say to stop her.

"Am I right?" she repeated, and then effortlessly drew the shiny blade out of its scabbard to hold it raised high over her head in a mock gesture of attack.

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Oishi merely grunted and continued to stare. Suddenly she broke into a peal of laughter and returned the sword to its scabbard. She let it drop to the floor and stood there, continuing to laugh in triumph and relief that she had been right.

Oishi's face broke into a smile and then he began to laugh, too. Stealthily he moved his foot to hook behind her leg. He pulled gently behind her knee and she let herself be pulled down on top of him. If she were a spy, he was thinking — but his thoughts were interrupted by her round hot mouth on his and he gave himself to her as she desired. It cannot be denied that a charred post is easily set afire.

9 XIII 9

In the archery shop in Osaka, Hara was greatly disturbed. His hands trembled as he lifted a bow and notched an arrow, and his aim was so bad that he missed the cloth target altogether.

Under his breath he cursed. Never in his life had he been so upset about anything. Even moving out of the castle at Ako had not robbed him of his faith in eventual justice as much as had his encounter with Oishi.

Hara was an uncomplicated man and could only believe what he could see. He felt defiled and insulted by Oishi's actions and even reproached himself for not killing his leader on the spot. In spite of their long friendship, there were limits to what a samurai could endure.

Fortunately he was alone at the moment and no one could see his bad marksmanship. He would have to get a better grip on himself before any of the townspeople came for their lessons. His temper was so frayed since returning from Kyoto that their clumsiness was bound to irritate him even more than usual.

In fact, he reflected, he had had only one really promising student since he opened shop. Of course, the school was only a front, but he derived some satisfaction from having gotten the rudiments of archery over to one muscular young man. This smiling fellow was named Konishi and he had become Hara's assistant and almost constant companion. He expressed great admiration for Hara's prowess with a bow and begged for stories about castle life in Ako. He said he was the son of a merchant and had never personally known any samurai before.

This show of interest was flattering and Hara took extra pains with his lessons. He reflected that if the young man continued to show progress he might even speak to Oishi about finding some way for him to help with their enterprise. But then he recalled his last meeting with Oishi and snorted angrily. He would never ask Oishi for anything again. When it came to the matter of revenge, he would take it himself if needs be.

His thoughts were interrupted by Konishi's noisy arrival. The young man ran in breathlessly and bowed

Chapter Thirteen

low in a swift movement that took his knees and head to the floor in one continuous movement.

"Hey! What's the matter now?" Kara asked roughly.

Konishi raised his head and grinned. "Sensei," he said, addressing Hara with the honorific term of teacher, "you'll never guess who I saw in Osaka today!"

"I'm in no mood for guessing games," Hara said, turning away.

"One of your countrymen!" the young man went on excitedly and Hara turned back to face him.

"Someone from Ako?"

"Yes, he's in business here and seems to be doing quite well."

"In business? Who could that be? Did you learn his name?"

"Oh, no. I only recognized the crest of Ako on his place of business."

"Mmm. And what kind of business was it? Not another archery school?"

"No, sensei. It was a dry goods store—quite a large one."

"Dry goods? . . . who could that be? . . . "

Hara mused for a moment, then abruptly started out of the shop.

"Come on," he said roughly. "Show me where you saw the crest of Asano on a dry goods store."

Konishi scrambled to his feet and with a smile followed him out.

It was only a short walk through the bustling streets of Osaka to the store that had so excited Konishi. When they reached it, he pointed and

grinned, and Hara, until now not convinced that the boy was telling a straight story, winced in spite of himself. Sure enough, there before an ordinary dry goods store, in plain view of all the passers-by, was the Asano crest, displayed like a sign advertising noodles or rice.

Hara gritted his teeth and started forward, the boy following. In spite of his preoccupation, Hara knew that he should not involve his young assistant in clan affairs and gruffly ordered him to wait outside. Then he marched on into the store.

Inside, he looked around for some clue to the owner's identity but found nothing. There were bolts of cloth being displayed to customers by several young salesmen but Hara did not recognize any of them. Then he heard a familiar voice and looked around. Coming out of a back room with some special goods for display was the old treasurer of the Asano clan, Ono!

Hara was momentarily surprised, but then he reahzed that he had no reason to be. Ono was the kind who would think nothing of rubbing the family crest in the dirt if it would help him get ahead. Whether the money he had used to go into business was gained by honest means or not, Hara had no way of knowing. But he did have some ideas about Ono's present affluence and some uses that could be made of it.

He stepped forward and grabbed Ono roughly by the collar.

"Please," he said to the old man, whose face had turned suddenly white," show me some of your special wares."

He pushed Ono back the way he had come, back into a storeroom where they could talk alone. He

Chapter Thirteen

rested the old man on a roll of material and folded his arms as he stood in front of him.

"I must congratulate you, Ono-san, on your prosperity. You must be doing better than any of the renin of Ako."

There was no hint of a threat in his voice but Ono was not fooled. He knew perfectly well where he stood in Hara's eyes.

"Now just a minute, old friend, there's nothing wrong with what I've done ..."

"Did I say there was?" Hara asked innocently. "I think you've done remarkable things with the small amount of pension we all received. I always knew that you had a feel for money—now I can see that you know how to make it increase as well."

"I've worked hard here, my friend," Ono said defensively. "My son and I have put in long hours to make this a going concern."

"And you deserve every credit," Hara said, nodding in agreement.

Ono shifted uneasily. There was something coming that he was sure he would not like, but he still could not quite fathom Hara's intentions. There was one stratagem that always worked, however, and he decided the time had come to use it.

"I'm sorry if things have been hard for you," he said with a sickly grin. "I've noticed that you have few customers at your archery school. I've meant to stop in several times, but as I say, there's always the press of business ..."

Hara said nothing, so he continued.

"As a matter of fact I was saying to my son just the other day, 'Why not ask Hara to come in with us? He'd be a good worker and I'm sure he could use the extra money.' "

Hara continued to regard him without expression and Ono talked a little faster.

"Could I help you out now, old friend? Perhaps a loan ..."

The old man scrambled to his feet and hurried to a corner of the room to dig out a cash box from under a pile of goods.

"See! This is the reward for sound investment of capital and labor. Take as much as you need! I'll just make a note of the amount and ..."

Hara calmly walked over and took the box in one huge hand. He had found the perfect solution for replenishing the coffers that Oishi was robbing. Without another word he started to walk out of the store while Ono gaped after him like a dying fish.

"But no—not all. You can't do this ..."

Hara stopped and turned to him.

"It's for a worthy cause, not for my use. You'll be glad you made such a fine contribution."

He started out, then turned again.

"And take down the Asano crest you have hanging outside, will you?" he said politely. "If you don't, I'll come back and take a sword to you as you deserve."

Ono continued to stare after him as he left. Then he kicked a bolt of material with a savage curse. He had been robbed in his own store and there was nothing he could do about it.

On the way out, Hara bumped into Ono's son coming in. One glance at the cash box told the young man all he needed to know and he hurried past Hara with a quick bow. Hara snorted. The boy had no more spine than his father. The clan was well rid of both of them.

Outside he rejoined Konishi, who was dying with

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curiosity about what had happened in the store, but Hara said nothing. Resolutely he strode through the dust-filled street, emptying of shoppers now in the late day, back to the archery shop where he could count the money undisturbed. He had very specific plans for the use of these funds and none of them included his old leader, Oishi. Tonight he would write to Horibe and start things roHing toward what those followers with real courage desired most.

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9 XIV 9

One morning Okaru was surprised to receive a messenger with a note from her old employer, the proprietor of the Flying Crane. In it, Hoshino stated that he would be paying her a call that day if she had no objection. Oishi was out and she was alone in the house, except for Chikara and the little maiko she had brought to live with her. She saw no harm in the request for a meeting, and sent a note of acceptance back to him, although she had thought her ties with the Flying Crane were severed.

Okaru had an odd background for a geisha, although her little maiko was the only one with whom she ever discussed it. She was the daughter of a farmer

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who had been forced off his land by the consequences of the Life Preservation Laws. To support his family he had taken the shameful step of going into business, thereby dropping two steps down the social ladder of samurai, farmer, artisan, and merchant. Last, of course, came the eta, but they didn't really count in the social structure at all.

For a time things were not easy for her father in his new line of work, but then things began to go too well and that was his downfall. He became so successful in business that he foolishly began to spend his money on fancy clothes and other items more suitable for those of noble descent, at least in the eyes of the nobles. His expenditures came to the attention of the city governors and they in turn reported the matter to Edo. Almost immediately a message came from the Shogun in the form of an order to her father. He was to contribute "voluntarily" the funds necessary to erect a new Buddhist temple in the ever expanding suburbs of Osaka. He had no choice but to obey and the subsequent cost of materials and labor took every last cent of his fortune, just as the Shogun had planned. So he ended up where he had started, penniless, feeling himself more disgraced than ever, and lacking the spirit to try again. He died not long after his money was gone and his wife followed him within weeks. With a younger brother to support, Okaru was fortunately able to make use of her education in the graceful arts and had become a geisha.

She had not minded her life at the Flying Crane— anything was better than starving—and by devoting herself assiduously to the more difficult customers, she gained a reputation for herself as an expert soother of sorrows. Her employer recognized her