Musashi: Bushido Code (44 page)

"And just how did you do that?"

"Don't you have eyes and ears?"

"Shut up! I'm a passenger on this ship. What's more, I'm a samurai. Do you expect me to answer when a mere ship's captain stands up before his customers and bellows as though he were their lord and master?"

"Don't be impertinent! I repeated my warning three times. You must have heard me. Even if you didn't like the way I said it, you could have shown some consideration for the people who were inconvenienced by your monkey."

"What people? Oh, you mean that bunch of tradesmen who've been gambling behind their curtain?"

"Don't talk so big! They paid three times as much fare as the others."

"That doesn't make them anything but what they are—low-class, irresponsible merchants, throwing around their gold where everybody can see it, drinking their sake, and acting as though they owned the ship. I've been watching them, and I don't like them at all. What if the monkey did run away with their cards? I didn't tell him to. He was just imitating what they themselves were doing. I see no need for me to apologize!"

The young man looked fixedly at the rich merchants and directed a loud, sardonic laugh their way.

The Seashell of Forgetfulness

It was evening when the ship entered the harbor at Kizugawa, where it was met by the all-pervading odor of fish. Reddish lights twinkled onshore, and the waves hummed steadily in the background. Little by little, the distance between the raised voices coming from the ship and those issuing from the shore closed up. With a white splash, the anchor was dropped; ropes were cast and the gangplank was moved into place.

A flurry of excited cries filled the air.

"Is the son of the priest at the Sumiyoshi Shrine aboard?"

"Is there a runner around?"

"Master! Here we are, over here!"

Like a wave, paper lanterns bearing the names of various inns rolled across the dock toward the ship, as the touts vied with each other for business. "Anyone for the Kashiwaya Inn?"

The young man with the monkey on his shoulder pushed his way through the crowd.

"Come to our place, sir—no charge for the monkey."

"We're right in front of Sumiyoshi Shrine. It's a great place for pilgrims. You can have a beautiful room with a beautiful view!"

No one had come to meet the youth. He walked straight away from the dock, paying no attention to the touts or anyone else.

"Who does he think he is?" growled one passenger. "Just because he knows a little swordsmanship!"

"If I weren't just a townsman, he wouldn't have gotten away without a fight."

"Oh, calm down! Let the warriors think they're better than anybody else. As long as they're strutting around like kings, they're happy. The thing for us townsmen to do is to let them have the flowers while we take the fruit. Why get excited over today's little incident?"

While talking on in this fashion, the merchants saw to it that their mountains of baggage were properly gathered together, then disembarked, to be met by swarms of people and lanterns and vehicles. There was not one among them who was not immediately surrounded by several solicitous women.

The last person off the ship was Gion Tōji, on whose face there was an expression of extreme discomfort. Never in all his life had he spent a more unpleasant day. His head was decently covered with a kerchief to conceal the mortifying loss of his topknot, but the cloth did nothing to hide his downcast eyebrows and sullen lips.

"Tōji! Here I am!" called Okō. Though her head was also covered with a kerchief, her face had been exposed to the cold wind while she was waiting, and her wrinkles showed through the white powder that was meant to hide them.

"Okō! So you came after all."

"Isn't that what you expected? You sent me a letter telling me to meet you here, didn't you?"

"Yes, but I thought it might not have reached you in time."

"Is something the matter? You look upset."

"Oh, it's nothing. Just a little seasick. Come on, let's go to Sumiyoshi and find a nice inn."

"Come this way. I have a palanquin waiting."

"Thanks. Did you reserve a room for us?"

"Yes. Everybody's waiting at the inn."

A look of consternation crossed Tōji's face.
"Everybody?
What are you talking about? I thought just the two of us were going to spend a couple of pleasant days here at some quiet place. If there are a lot of people around, I'm not going."

Refusing the palanquin, he strode angrily on ahead. When Okō tried to explain, he cut her off and called her an idiot. All the rage that had built up inside him on the ship exploded.

"I'll stay somewhere by myself!" he bellowed. "Send the palanquin away! How could you be such a fool? You don't understand me at all." He snatched his sleeve away from her and hurried on.

They were in the fish market by the waterfront; all the shops were closed, and the scales strewn about the street glittered like tiny silver seashells. Since there was virtually no one around to see them, Okō hugged Tōji and attempted to soothe him.

"Let go of me!" he shouted.

"If you go off by yourself, the others will think something's wrong." "Let them think what they want!"

"Oh, don't talk like that!" she pleaded. Her cool cheek pressed against his. The sweetish odor of her powder and her hair penetrated his being, and gradually his anger and frustration ebbed.

"Please," begged Okō.

"It's just that I'm so disappointed," he said.

"I know, but we'll have other chances to be together."

"But these two or three days with you—I was really looking forward to them."

"I understand that."

"If you understood, why did you drag a lot of other people along? It's because you don't feel about me the way I feel about you!"

"Now you're starting on that again," said Okō reproachfully, staring ahead and looking as if the tears were about to flow. But instead of weeping, she made another attempt to get him to listen to her explanation. When the runner had arrived with Tōji's letter, she had, of course, made plans to come to Osaka alone, but as luck would have it, that very night Seijūrō had come to the Yomogi with six or seven of his students, and Akemi had let it slip out that Tōji was arriving. In no time at all, the men had decided that they should all accompany Okō to Osaka and that Akemi should come along with them. In the end, the party that checked into the inn in Sumiyoshi numbered ten.

While Tōji had to admit that under the circumstances there was not much Okō could have done, his gloomy mood did not improve. This had clearly not been his day, and he was sure there was worse to come. For one thing, the first question he expected to hear would concern how he had made out on his canvassing campaign, and he hated to have to give them the bad news. What he dreaded far more was the prospect of having to take the kerchief off his head. How could he ever explain the missing topknot? Ultimately he realized there was no way out and resigned himself to his fate.

"Oh, all right," he said, "I'll go with you. Have the palanquin brought here."

"Oh, I'm so happy!" cooed Okō, as she turned back toward the dock.

At the inn, Seijūrō and the others had taken a bath, wrapped themselves up snugly in the cotton-padded kimonos provided by the inn, and settled down to wait for Tōji and Okō's return. When, after a time, they failed to reappear, someone said, "Those two will be here sooner or later. There's no reason to sit here doing nothing."

The natural consequence of this statement was the ordering of sake. At first they drank merely to pass the time, but soon legs began to stretch out comfortably, and the sake cups to pass back and forth more rapidly. It was not long before everybody had more or less forgotten about Tōji and Okō.

"Don't they have any singing girls in Sumiyoshi?"

"Say, that's a good idea! Why don't we call in three or four nice girls?"

Seijūrō looked hesitant until someone suggested that he and Akemi retire to another room, where it would be quieter. The none-too-subtle move to get rid of him brought a wistful smile to his face, but he was nevertheless happy to leave. It would be far more pleasant to be alone with Akemi in a room with a warm
kotatsu
than to be drinking with this crew of ruffians.

As soon as he was out of the room, the party began in earnest, and before long several singing girls of the class known locally as the "pride of Tosamagawa" appeared in the garden outside the room. Their flutes and shamisen were old, of poor quality and battered from use.

"Why are you making so much noise?" one of the women asked saucily. "Did you come here to drink or to have a brawl?"

The man who had appointed himself ringleader called back, "Don't ask foolish questions. Nobody pays money to fight! We called you in so we could drink and have some fun."

"Well," said the girl tactfully, "I'm glad to hear that, but I do wish you'd be a little quieter."

"If that's the way you want it, fine! Let's sing some songs."

In deference to the feminine presence, several hairy shins were retracted under kimono skirts, and a few horizontal bodies became vertical. The music started, spirits rose, and the party gained momentum. It was in full swing when a young maid came in and announced that the man who had come in on the ship from Shikoku had arrived with his companion.

"What'd she say? Somebody coming?"

"Yeah, she said somebody named Tōji's coming."

"Great! Wonderful! Good old Tōji's coming.... Who's Tōji?"

Tōji's entrance with Okō did not interrupt the proceedings in the least; in fact, they were ignored. Having been led to believe the gathering was all for his sake, Tōji was disgusted.

He called back the maid who had shown them in and asked to be taken to Seijūrō's room. But as they went into the hall, the ringleader, reeking of sake, staggered over and threw his arms around Tōji's neck.

"Hey, Tōji!" he slurred. "Just get back? You must have been having a good time with Okō somewhere while we sat here waiting. Now, that's not the thing to do!"

Tōji tried unsuccessfully to shake him off. The man dragged him struggling into the room. In the process, he stepped on a tray or two, kicked over several sake jars, then fell to the floor, bringing Tōji down with him.

"My kerchief!" gasped Tōji. His hand sped to his head, too late. On his way down, the ringleader had snatched at the kerchief and now had it in his hand. With a collective gasp, all eyes looked straight at the spot where Tōji's topknot should have been.

"What happened to your head?"

"Ha, ha, ha! That's some hairdo!"

"Where did you get it?"

Tōji's face flushed blood red. Grabbing the kerchief and replacing it, he sputtered, "Oh, it's nothing. I had a boil."

To a man, they doubled up with laughter.

"He brought a boil back with him as a souvenir!"

"Cover the vile spot!"

"Don't talk about it. Show us!"

It was obvious from the feeble jokes that nobody believed Tōji, but the party went on, and no one had much to say about the topknot.

The next morning it was a different matter altogether. Ten o'clock found the same group assembled on the beach behind the inn, sober now and engaged in a very serious conference. They sat in a circle, some with shoulders squared, some with arms crossed, but all looking grim.

"Any way you look at it, it's bad."

"The question is, is it true?"

"I heard it with my own ears. Are you calling me a liar?"

"We can't let it pass without doing anything. The honor of the Yoshioka School is at stake. We have to act!"

"Of course, but what do we do?"

"Well, it's still not too late. We'll find the man with the monkey and cut off
his
topknot. We'll show him that it's not just Gion Tōji's pride that's involved. It's a matter that concerns the dignity of the whole Yoshioka School! Any objections?" The drunken ringleader of the night before was now a gallant lieutenant, spurring his men on to battle.

Upon awakening, the men had ordered the bath heated, so as to wash away their hangovers, and while they were in the bath, a merchant had come in. Not knowing who they were, he told them about what had happened on the ship the day before. He furnished them with a humorous account of the cutting off of the topknot and concluded his tale by saying that "the samurai who had lost his hair claimed to be a leading disciple of the House of Yoshioka in Kyoto. All I can say is that if he really is, the House of Yoshioka must be in worse shape than anyone imagines."

Sobering up fast, the Yoshioka disciples had gone looking for their wayward senior to question him about the incident. They soon discovered he had risen early, spoken a few words with Seijūrō, and departed with Okō for Kyoto right after breakfast. This confirmed the essential accuracy of the story, but rather than pursue the cowardly Tōji, they decided it would make better sense to find the unknown youth with the monkey and vindicate the Yoshioka name.

Having agreed upon a plan at their seaside council of war, they now stood up, brushed the sand off their kimonos and moved into action.

A short distance away, Akemi, bare-legged, had been playing at the edge of the water, picking up seashells one by one, then discarding them almost immediately. Even though it was winter, the sun was shining warmly, and the smell of the sea rose from the froth of the breakers, which stretched out like chains of white roses as far as the eye could see.

Akemi, wide-eyed with curiosity, watched the Yoshioka men as they all ran off in different directions, the tips of their scabbards in the air. When the last of them passed her, she called out to him, "Where are you all going?"

"Oh, it's you!" he said. "Why don't you come search with me? Everybody's been assigned a territory to cover."

"What are you looking for?"

"A young samurai with a long forelock. He's carrying a monkey." "What did he do?"

"Something that will disgrace the Young Master's name unless we act fast." He told her what had happened, but failed to raise even a spark of interest.

"You people are always looking for a fight!" she said disapprovingly.

"It's not that we like to fight, but if we let him get away with this, it'll bring

shame on the school, the greatest center of the martial arts in the country." "Oh, what if it does?"

"Are you crazy?"

"You men spend all your time running after the silliest things."

"Huh?" He squinted at her suspiciously. "And what have you been doing out here all this time?"