5 comments/ 13571 views/ 1 favorites A Woman of Edo Ch. 01 By: NoJo AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is set in the Edo period in Japan, in the year 1680 in the western calendar. The story makes many references to the game of Go. A brief description of this ancient and fascinating game appears at the end of the tale, along with a short historical background and glossary of the Japanese terms used. THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS NO EROTIC SCENES. ----------------------------------------------- The woman bowed low over the Go Ban. She had lost the game, by a single stone. The man ran a hand over his hair with relief; she had been a tough opponent. He bowed also, though it was not required of him; she was a woman. "What now is my reward?" He asked her. Perhaps, he thought, she would allow him to fondle her breasts. But he doubted it; She was "Chilli-Fire"; she was no courtesan; he could hear them downstairs, singing and beating their drums. "Your reward? This is your reward: I will tell you my story." You know me as Chilli Fire, but my parents named me Akiko. I am the daughter and only child of Riu Hideoshi, a merchant and businessman of Edo. My mother died while I was a child, and I was raised by the women of my father's house. My father loved me with all his heart. He never showed any sign of regret for lacking a male heir. But part of him must have felt this lack, for he taught me boyish sport and even swordsmanship, even while my governess would read to me from the Onna Daigaku of the duties of a woman. I will tell you first how I got my name, which fits me very well. Four years ago, when I was fifteen years old, my father entered into partnership with the Dutch cotton exporter, Jordaens. My father and Jordaens' business soon prospered, and my father became one of the richest men in Edo. Many times Jordaens visited my father's house as a guest, where I would serve him sake and beer, and smile sweetly while he watched me with his eyes, grey and dead as a lizard's. I detested both the sight and smell of Jordaens. His face and arms were covered with coarse yellow hair, like a monkey's. And he stank of rancid butter. He was a towering clumsy brute, crude in speech and gesture. One evening he whispered a lewd comment to me as I was fetching in the meal. I feigned embarrassment, to hide my anger, and returned quickly to the kitchen. There I emptied two whole pots of our hottest chilli oil into his soup. He took a mouthful, but was too afraid of offending my father's house to spit it out. He swallowed it, and began to choke and cough. A terrible wind rose up in his bowels; and soon he fairly rose into the air from his cushion at the force of its exhalation. Jordaens ran from my Father's house in an agony of pain and humiliation. My father caught me laughing at this, and, knowing my nature, became suspicious. The cook found the two empty pots and told my father what I had done. My father forced me to finish the broth myself. The entire household watched as I ate it all, and waited for my screams. But I never allowed them their revenge; I showed not the slightest sign of discomfort. I even refused to drink from the of tumbler of water my father offered me, having been filled with remorse for his cruelty. I became sick thereafter, and would have died, were it not for the strong purgatives the doctor had given me. And although four years have now passed, I am still called Chilli-Fire, and I still feel a burning within my belly. I will tell you now of my abductor, who called himself "Eternity", and how he defeated me in a game of Go. Now it happened that my father was called by the Shogun to the palace at Edo. This summons was a great honour, and showed that my father, despite being of merchant class, had achieved the highest status in society. I ran to my father then, and begged him not to go. For I had often dreamed a dream wherein I had seen the head of my father upon a stake, slain by the Shogun's police. So vivid was this dream I took it as a portent. My father laughed at my concern, and stroked my hair, and told me they would return within the year. And so my father left his household behind, taking with a portion of his servants as bodyguards. Two days I wept, for I loved my father, and feared for him. On the third morning, my maidservants, who wished to console me, bade me accompany them to the river, where they would do the laundry and laugh and gossip. But I wished to remain alone with my thoughts. It was a beautiful spring morning, and so I took my father's kaya-wood Go table from the house, and sat by the carp pond, idly playing with the white shell and black slate stones, placing them in ornate patterns on the wooden Go table. I chanced to look up, and there stood an old beggar. I hadn't heard him approach; he startled me. His head was encased in a straw cage like a beehive. He carried a big walking stick of bamboo. He was bent, with age I thought, or perhaps from the weight of the huge pack he carried on his back. Although I had never seen one before, I recognised him from the descriptions I'd read in books; he was a Komuso, a travelling beggar monk. "Hello, young miss," he croaked, "is your master home?" Still shocked by the suddenness of his appearance, I answered him angrily. "Do you take me for a maid? Get away from here, before I fetch the dogs. My father is not home. I have no money for you." "If you've no money for me," he said, "then we are equals, for I've no money for you either!" He seated himself on the ground at the Go table. He dumped his backpack on the grass with a grunt of relief. He seemed in no hurry to depart. He gathered up some of the Go stones and rattled them rhythmically in his hands. I noticed that his fingers, though caked with dirt, were smooth and straight. I could make out a pair of twinkling eyes behind the mesh of his hat. I thought then that he might be mad. "You are on my property." "Your rump squashes a thousand blades of grass. And yet you didn't ask their permission before you sat down." I stood, agitated. I was now convinced he was a madman. "Komuso, I will go and fetch some rice for you, if you promise to begone once I have given them to you." I started to run towards the house in order to fetch some servants to eject him. "Not so fast, little Fire-Belly!" I stopped in my tracks. The name by which he called me was so like the pet name spoken only in my house, that I returned to him, curious. "Young mistress, I would rather play you at Go. For coins and rice are to be had for a tune on my flute, but a game of Go with a young lady is a rare treat for an old empty-pate." "Why did you call me- that name?" "Your name is as plain to me as your face." So burning with curiosity was I that I did not notice his insult. "Who are you?" "I? I am nobody. But you may call me Master Ko. Your father hired me. I am to be your tutor. I will begin by teaching you mastery of Go." He kneeled and bowed across the table. I laughed with a mixture of surprise and relief. I kneeled opposite him at the Go table and bowed also. Now I had already learned the game of Go from my father, who was a master, having been graded at the 6th dan by Master Kobusi himself. My father played Go in the same manner in which he conducted his business dealings; at once delicate and ruthless. Some part of my mind was attuned to the living patterns of the stones, and it was not long before I became my father's equal in this most masculine of games. In Joseki, or skirmish tactics, I was daring and shrewd, and my father had learned to fear me when my stones encroached on his territory, no matter how secure he had walled it. I drew a black stone from the cup. I was to start. I liked to play first. First on the board, first to attack. "Master Ko," I asked, in the sweetest voice I could muster, "what sum has my father agreed with you as your salary?" "Four sacks of rice flour every month." I placed the first stone at the four-four point. I wished him to take the bait and attempt to win the corner. "Well," I said. "I will ensure he doubles it to eight if you beat me." I waited for him to ask what his forfeit was to be should he lose. But he was already deep in thought. He played like a coward. Perhaps, I thought, he had heard from my father of my prowess in the skirmish-play. I soon had secured three corners, and had him struggling for his life in the fourth corner. Eventually he passed his move. But I refused to end the game by passing also; instead I played on. Although I had already won the game by a wide margin, the recollection of his sudden startling appearance earlier had prompted me to punish him. I fought to gain the final corner as though it was I that was playing for my survival instead of him. After a few minutes he attempted to cut my wall, but he had overlooked a weakness in his own crumbling defences. No sooner had he placed the stone on the table, than he looked up and said, "The game is over. No more stones can be played." He bowed low. I bowed also, but he added, "You need not pay me the extra bags. I do not require much in the way of food." I began to laugh. I looked down at the table, and was amazed to see that far from being a clear victory for me, the territories were nearly equal. I had captured all the edges, but had left him owning most of the centre of the board. I had been blind! In my years of playing it had never happened to me. Yet it was not obvious who had won; the balance of territory was very close. I was shaken. "We must count stones. It is too close to call." "If you wish. But I win by one stone." I counted our territories. He was right, he had won by a single stone. I opened my mouth to speak, unsure whether to regale him or congratulate him, when he raised his cane high above his head. I felt a sudden blow, and then I knew no more. A Woman of Edo Ch. 02 I will tell you now how I was raped, and met my captor. I awoke in darkness. From the smell of donkey, and the jolting motion, I realized immediately that I was in a covered cart. My hands and feet were bound, and I had been gagged. My forehead didn't hurt where it had been struck, though I felt a bump there. I was unafraid. On the contrary I felt a strange sense of excitement. For I felt that, captive though I was, I was embarked at last on an adventure some part of my soul had always known would befall me, and which I had been eagerly awaiting. I saw the ground passing below through a knot-hole in the wooden floor of the cart. Then I became aware that there was something in the cart that glittered in the dim light. It was a Go stone. I lay there. After many hours I could no longer see the ground through the hole; it had grown dark outside. I fell asleep to the sound of the donkey's hooves and the gentle rocking of the cart. I was awoken by the silence and lack of motion as the cart stopped. I peered down at the knot-hole. Daylight shone through. I heard a man dismount. With an effort, I swept my legs across the floor, and managed to brush the Go stone out through the bottom of the cart onto the ground below. It was a desperate hope that perhaps someone would find it and thereby be alerted to my presence. The roof of the cart was drawn back, and I was momentarily blinded by the grey daylight. Before I knew it, a man jumped up onto the cart and hoisted me over his shoulder as though I were a bundle of straw. It was Ko. I marvelled at the strength of the old man. In silence, he climbed a short slope up from the road, where there were a few caves. I recalled then that the komuso were said to live in caves. I was dumped on a bed of rags in a dark corner of the cave. Ko turned to me and said, "I will return shortly and give you water. In the meantime, do not make any noise. There are bears in these parts!" I did not believe him, but it any case I was unable to make more than the smallest sound through the gag. He went out of the cave, and I was left to try and fathom the reason for my capture. I assumed that I had been kidnapped for ransom, as my father's wealth was well-known. As I lay waiting for Ko to return, and thinking more and more of the water he would bring, I heard the thud of heavy footsteps outside the cave. They were not the footsteps of a man. My heart froze as I saw, silhouetted against the entrance of the cave, a massive creature. A bear, larger than any man! I cowered against a wall, hoping he would not scent my fear and find me. But it was no bear. For it lit a torch and I saw then that it was indeed a man, though barely so: It was my father's partner, Jordaens. He held the torch and looked around. And then he spied me. "Who's there?" He said. He drew his sword and approached. "Come out, before I run you through!" But then he saw that I was bound up, though he still recognized me not. He bent and undid my gag. And then he saw it was I. "By heavens!" He exclaimed. "What have we here? It's young Akiko! This is a most curious thing." With his sword he cut through my bonds. He bade me stand, but my limbs were numb and I could not. "Tell me," he said, to himself it seemed. "How is it that the daughter of Riu Hideoshi winds up in here, with a bruise on her forehead?" I told him then of my capture, what little I knew of it. He paced about, his eyes afire. I heard him curse the name of Ko. I wondered at this. What connection had my abductor with this man? After a while, he turned to me. He smiled; but his grey eyes gleamed in the torchlight. "You must be shaken and feared after your plight. And thirsty." I told him then I was nearly parched of thirst. "Here, I have a pouch of water." He undid a leather water-pouch from his side and handed it to me. I went to take it, but he did not let go, but instead grabbed hold of my hand and pulled me to him. He thrust the spout of the water-pouch into my mouth and poured the liquid into me. It was not water, but a strong rice wine that burned my throat all the more. "You like the feel of fire in your throat, don't you, little Fire-belly?" He thrust the pouch aside. He lifted me by the waist and carried me towards a wall of the cave. He held me against the wall with one great hand, encircling my neck, while with the other, he tore off my garments, shredding them as though they were paper. When I was all naked, he stopped. He observed my body. So intense and hungry was his face that I felt violated by his stare. He grabbed my hips and lifted me. I felt his huge fingers digging deep into my lower back. He pressed his putrid face onto my white breasts. He inhaled my scent, and his passions rose. He raised me high above him so that my hips were level with his head. He thrust his wide nose into my groin, and snuffled there like a pig. He stood me back onto the ground. He removed his clothes and stood naked before me. He was so repulsive to behold that I screwed up my eyes. He cared not. "Kneel." I obeyed, for there was no way I could escape him. "Open your eyes. See the sword that will claim your life." His manhood grew, until it was a monstrous beast. It stank like rotting meat. The shaft was rippled and veined like a warrior's arm. He pushed my head down onto it, until I nearly choked from the stench. He forced my mouth open with his thumb and forefinger, and pushed it inside my mouth. "Move your quick tongue, fire-cunt. You'll get your drink soon." He dropped his hands, closed his eyes and swayed slightly back and forth, rocking my head with him. The swaying increased in speed, and then stopped. I felt his hot juice striking against the back of my throat, and jerked my head back and attempted to break free. Angered, he grabbed a handful of my hair and shoved my head back down onto him so that I choked. When he had finished, I stayed on my knees. He ran his fingers over my mouth roughly and wiped his juice over my hair. I thought then that my ordeal was over, but I was wrong. He pulled me up by the shoulders, slowly, almost languidly. The wild flame in his eyes had changed to deep glowing coals, less bright, but hotter. With one enormous hand he gripped my ass. He squeezed it, harder and harder. I howled with the pain, and felt his fingers would tear through me. I screamed as he pushed his writhing fat finger deep into the hole between my buttocks. His strength was inhuman; he lifted me thus impaled into the air. "Now, let's see if we can put out that fire." He lowered me down onto his manhood, which had grown once more, but now shone and glistened with my saliva. I screamed as he entered me. He was too big, too big. I would die. I had never felt a man inside me, but knew that he was no ordinary man, and would kill me. I began to lose consciousness. I felt myself turn to a paper shell, as thin and insubstantial as the skin on a snake that he would soon slough off. He remained inside me, rocking me back and forth, from behind his finger thrusting deep inside my bowels, from the front his manhood hammering against my womb. And soon I began to rock with him. And I began to burn. I felt I was nearing my end. He had set the fire within me astir, and the flames would destroy us both. I wept at the how short my little life had been. I heard him laugh, but already the sounds of the world were growing distant. I gave myself to the fire, and prepared to die. Faintly, I heard him speak. "What do you want, old man. Get you gone, before I hack you down." I heard a strange, low whistle, and a loud crack. The rocking stopped. Dimly, I looked up at his face. He stared at me in surprise. Two streams of dark red blood issued from his nostrils. He fell back, I on top of him. A pair of hands pulled me away. I lay curled on my side. I felt my own blood pouring from my groin. I passed out. Many hours or even days I lay semi-conscious. But when I awoke I felt somewhat revived. I sat up, and saw Ko seated nearby. He watched me silently with keen eyes. He leaned towards me and I cowered. He spoke. "Do not be afraid. Here. I brought you water." I took from him a pitcher of water, and drank long, while he watched me. "You are both my captor and my saviour. Yet I still know not who you are, or what you want with me." "You are my prisoner. But I will not mistreat you, as he has done." There was something in his voice that made me feel he spoke truly. Yet I suspected him still. "But who are you? You are no monk, for what monk would kill a man?" For answer he stood, and straightened up tall, and I saw his face transform itself from that of an old man to a youthful one, the lines and creases disappearing. He pulled at his long grey beard. It was false, and came off in his hand. He threw it to the ground. I gasped. "Indeed you are no monk, you are a devil, that can change his shape!" "You saw the creases in my face, the grey beard, my bent back. But you didn't see the man. As in our game of Go, you focused on the details, but missed the whole. My name is Kano Takegawa, and you are correct: I am no more a monk than are you." "Kano Takegawa. That name is unknown to me, and I doubt it is your own. But whoever you be, you cannot further increase my shame by subjecting me to further torment at your hands. Therefore I fear you not. Better you should take my life now. Unless you wish to see me take my own." This last was a lie. For in spite of all my pain and indignity, I was strong. And I felt that, as in Go, wherein it is unwise to resign before the game is truly ended, so the premature taking of one's own life is foolish. Fortunes may change with the placing of a single stone. "Dead or alive, you shall remain here until your father has handed over to me the five hundred ryu he stole from Jordaens." "My father? My father is no thief!" "Your knowledge of your father is as your knowledge of Go, and of the world in general. You see only the detail, but never the whole. Your father is indeed a thief. But he would protest, preferring rather to call himself a 'shrewd businessman'. Jordaens was only one among many that he stole from. Do you think that a lowly townsman can achieve the wealth equal to that of the highest noblemen in Edo without resorting to thievery?" "You lie! My father is a good and honest man!" "I will not argue it. Your opinion of your father is not important to me." He sat down heavily and said no more. Many days we remained in the cave. I had become fevered, and would be some days recovering. A low, glowing fire had always burned within me, but since my ordeal it had sprung to flame, and still engulfed me. I writhed in the nights, as I relived the horror of my rape. Kano gave me medicines to drink which gave me relief, and he bathed my skin with cool water. He burned Ho leaf, and its scent revived me further. Soon, although I was still very weak, I felt recovered enough to take a morsel of rice bread that he offered me. He brought me clothes, crude grey peasant's clothes, in contrast to my indigo and yellow kimono which still lay in tatters on the floor of the cave. As I recovered, my wits returned, and I began to plot my escape. For I did not believe Kano's story. I recalled the surprise that Jordaens had shown when he had found me here. This man Kano was no crude thug, to hire himself out as a kidnapper. But he must have sensed my plans, for one day he bound my feet once more, though he left my hands and mouth free. "I said to you before that I would not treat you ill. But do not think therefore that I would not break your neck like a chicken's, quickly but without cruelty, if you attempt to escape or call for help." I will tell you how I learned to hear silence. Kano was skilled in medicine, and I was strong in spirit. After two weeks, my strength had returned. But my brutal deflowering had wrought a change in me. I would dream again and again of Jordaens, and it still shames me to tell that I awoke from these dreams agitated, and with a burning desire to feel once again his deathly weapon inside me. I longed to be out of that cave, and felt like a dog in a kennel. Kano came and went often, I knew not where. Whenever he left he would bind me and gag my mouth, so I could not call out. Each time he returned, his mood was black. I guessed he had some business concerning me, which was not going as he wished. Being completely at his mercy, I feared that whenever he went from me he would not return. I would feel so great a relief when I saw his silhouette reappear at the mouth of the cave that I would weep. One morning he prepared for me my medicine. We sat at the cave's entrance. I watched his delicate quick fingers, and the smooth skin on his arms, as he sliced up some sweet-smelling leaves. He said to me, "It will not be long now. Soon you will be free." My heart felt then the searing arrow of disgrace. I could not bear to face my father after my violation. Yet still I was unable to contemplate taking my own life. Not through fear of death; for surely to face my father required a greater courage. "Has my father then agreed to the ransom?" He told me curtly it was no business of mine. I answered him that my own kidnapping was surely my business, insofar as I was the item under negotiation. He turned to me angrily, and opened his mouth to regale me, but instead he merely said: "You are clearly fully recovered, for you are now become as irritating as a fly on my arse." He rubbed his chin. "I need a shave." He left my side and disappeared behind me into the cave. I watched the birds flying in the blue sky. The sun shone brightly, but it cheered me not. In my sorrow, I sang. Kano called out to me. "There is nobody about to hear you but the swallows, and even those you will drive away with your caterwaul." He came and stood in front of me at the mouth of the cave, and looked out. He had stripped to his waist. I watched the muscles of his back ripple as he raised his hand to shield his eyes from the glare. I felt an impulse to touch his smooth skin, but my shame prevented me from doing so, and I recoiled. "But you are also here, Master Ko," I replied. "Do you not like to hear music? I cannot now sing a joyful song, but-" "Listen!" His voice was an urgent command. I instantly obeyed. I listened, but heard nothing but the wind and a distant chirping of crickets. After a moment I glanced at him. "I hear nothing." "Then you are singing." I could not tell if he jested me with a riddle, as he still faced away from me. But then he turned quickly and fetched his bamboo cane, with which he had killed Jordaens. I saw that its grain was still stained with Jordaens' blood. He sat cross-legged upon the ground, and placed its just below his lips. And then my skin crawled and my heart beat fast: A note, pure and deep, issued from that cane, and filled the air. It seemed soon to originate from within me, and I felt as though my body were lifted by a warm, gentle, but irresistible current of air. The sound continued for many minutes. And although the note was constant, it seemed to contain within it a melody, complex and unbearably beautiful. I wept. Eventually he stopped, and lowered the cane. A man was watching us from the road below. "Hail, empty-head!" he called. "Any good grub around these parts?" I saw that it was another monk; on his head he wore the same peculiar hat I had seen Kano wear. Kano stood. "Hail yourself! I know not. For I am passing through." "I too am passing through, on my way to Edo, to seek me a virgin in the pussy-houses of Yoshiwara!" The monk climbed the bank towards us, puffing and blowing. I saw he had a cane like Kano's. He stood, and bowed low, first at Kano, then at me. He gave no sign of curiosity or surprise at my being there. "I heard your ro, and thought you would begin a honkyoku. But it seems that you got stuck on the first note." "I was teaching my niece here the blowing-meditation." "Well, she seems a quick thing, perhaps we should play to her the Song of The River and the Dragonfly." And then the monk played a high, rapid tune on his cane. He stopped after playing a short phrase. It seemed to me that it was a question. He stopped, and waited. Kano raised his cane and blew an answering phrase. Quicker and more complex the melody grew, until finally the old monk stopped, laughing, and a little out of breath. "Stop, young bullock! I have heard enough. You pass the test; you are one of us. You are a Fuke. You can't be too careful, with all these ronin about." "And you are a horny old toad, yet you are also one on the Path." "Yes. Yes. Oh, speaking of paths, I chanced upon this pretty Go stone on the road down below. Is it yours, by any chance?" Kano flicked a glance at me. "What do you think, old fool? With a Go set of pure pearl clamshell stones such as this, would I be tarrying here in torn rags in the woods, with only heather for an arse-wipe?" The monk held my eye. "Perhaps this stone is yours. Perhaps it is a Horikomi [sacrifice play]. Or a Hamete [trap]." "It is not mine." "Well! If it belongs to neither of you, then I will keep it myself, and trade it for a new pair of sandals. For I feel every pebble through these". He balanced on his cane, and raised a leg, showing us the holes in his sandal. He remained balanced thus on one foot, and said to us: "And now, young master, young mistress, I will leave you with a final song." And he broke wind loudly. Kano watched the old monk amble away until he was out of sight. Then he turned to me and said, "You almost had your revenge. That is the second time I have beaten you by a single stone." A Woman of Edo Ch. 03 I will tell you now how my abductor taught to me the Breathing Meditation. Kano decided that it was no longer safe to remain in the cave. Perhaps he suspected that the old monk would raise the alarm. He carefully packed his few belongings onto a folded sheet, then hoisted it onto his back. “We will go now on foot from this place. Do not try to run away from me, but walk before me.” “If I walk before you, people will take you for my servant.” “No, they will take me for a blind man and you for my guide.” He rolled his eyes upwards until only the white showed. “But why do we have to walk? Where is your donkey and cart?” “They were stolen. I mean I stole them. But they are now returned to their owner.” “You are only half a thief, then.” “No, I am twice a thief, for I stole first from the owner, and then from the donkey.” “From the donkey? What was there to steal from the donkey?” “In returning her to her owner I thereby stole her freedom.” Only now, now when it is too late, do I understand why he smiled wryly as he said it. He knew. He knew what would befall. And so we walked through the countryside, seemingly without goal or purpose, even as Basho wanders the land. I was no hinin, though in my rags I doubtless appeared as one; I was unaccustomed to walking, and my feet and legs soon tired. The sun burned hot, and the air shimmered above the cracked earth. I felt as though I could go no further. I stopped and turned to Kano to tell him that I must rest, but I saw him bent under the heavy pack he had borne all the while uncomplaining, and in shame I turned and continued. At last, in the late afternoon, we came upon a little house of wood, within sight of a small hamlet. There were hemp fields all about, and a few men were out harvesting. We had been walking beside a little river for some miles, which had afforded us drink, and which now bent away from us into a copse of cedar trees behind the house. Kano went up to the house and peered in through the gaps in the wooden slats of the door. He called to me, “We will stop here.” He opened the door, which was not locked. Inside was a single room, with no screen. But it had a bed of matting, and a table for preparing food. To me it seemed a palace after the cave. I sat on the floor and rubbed my feet wearily. But Kano pulled me up. “Come with me.” Behind the house ran the river. It flowed swift and clear. “Bathe in there, the water flows from the Sacred Mountain [Fuji] and will revive you.” I stripped naked before him, shyly, for I had never shown my body alone before a man before. But he merely sat near the bank and plucked at blades of grass. I turned from him and watched the river sparkling and dancing before me. I wondered whether he was watching me, noticing the pretty dimples in my backside. Then I felt reviled, for I realized that he no doubt observed on me the bruises that Jordaens had wrought. I stepped towards the bank of the river. I wiped tears from my eyes and stared down at the pebbles beneath the surface. He called to me. “Hey!” I turned. He paused, and seemed momentarily confused. With a thrill I realised that it was the sight of my body that had caused him to forget his words. “Well?” “Be careful. The water flows quickly.” I laughed. “Do you think I cannot swim?” I raised my arms in a great circle, showing off my sweet breasts. “Will you not bathe also, Master Kano?” “I will bathe, but not while you do.” “Why not? Always the men and women bathe together in the public baths at Edo. And the children.” “But I am not from Edo.” “Then you can watch me, for I am a woman of Edo, and we love the water more than does the salmon.” I ran into the water, and screamed, laughed, choked, laughed and screamed again. The icy water rushed over me and brought me to life so that I felt I could run a hundred miles and leap mountains. After a few minutes I began to feel cold, and splashed to shore. I jumped and skipped to warm myself, shivering in the hot sun. Kano lay back, his head resting on his clasped hands, and watched the empty sky. I teased him. “You may bathe safely now, Master Kano. I have finished.” Silently, he rose. He removed his sash. He stretched and removed his jacket over his head. His brown chest glistened as though it had been oiled. He stepped out of his sandals and approached the river bank. “Will you bathe in your pants?” “The river will wash the dirt from them.” “Master Kano, I will wash them for you. There are flat washing-stones nearby.” He shrugged, and stepped out of his pants. “Wash my loin-cloth too, then.” He threw his loin-cloth to me, and dived into the water with the speed of a kingfisher. I watched the ripples, playing a game with myself, guessing where he would resurface, as I used to do with the ducks in our pond. But he did not resurface. My anxiety grew as I searched the river for him. The glare made it impossible to see below the surface. My heart beating, I dived in, and under the water, I opened my eyes. He was directly below me, gliding like a pike near the stones at the bottom of the river. He looked up at me. A little bubble of air escaped his nostrils and fluttered up toward me. I watched him; his body was pale against the green riverbed. Then I became short of air and had to break the surface, gasping. There was a splash of water beside me as he finally came up. He swam back to shore and lay down on the grass, his arms and legs spread wide to catch the sun. I followed him. But I dared not lay nor even sit near him. I stood some distance from him. His body was so unlike that of Jordaens. His manhood, shrunk by the cold, looked like a little brown mouse. No memory of my horror assailed me as I surveyed his lithe and graceful form. “How is it that you can hold your breath for so long? Is it more magic?” Kano smiled without looking at me. “Yes, it is magic. It’s called Suizen.” “Can you teach me?” Kano sat up. Again, I saw he was taken aback by the sight of me. But now I felt no shame. The waters of Fuji had cleansed me. I asked him again if he could teach me, but he did not answer me, but said, “Your hair is long, Akiko.” I took a step nearer, and lowered my eyes. “I can teach you. But first you must learn how to breathe.” I laughed. “People do not need to be taught to breathe. In, out... in, out...” “You know nothing of breathing. What is the first breath a baby takes when it is born? And what is the last breath we take, when we leave our mortal body?” “I don’t know, for I have witnessed neither birth nor death.” “I have witnessed both. The first breath we take is a scream as we expel the waters of the womb. And the last is a gasp as we fill the vacuum created as our spirit leaves our body. Our breathing is not ‘in, out’, but ‘out, in’”. “But it is the same thing.” “Come here.” At his word I went to him, unthinking, as a ripe apple is drawn to the earth. “Watch.” He pointed to his chest. I watched it rise and fall as he breathed. I could see between his ribs, a tiny pulsing of his heartbeat. I saw then his abdomen rise and fall in the in rhythm of his breath, but in the opposite wise. And then it seemed to me as though his body was a sea, and a gentle wave rolled over it. I found myself breathing in time to the wave. My head felt light. And inside me, the fire burned, and I desired him. My breath came quicker, and hot tears welled in my eyes. Shame, desire and despair mingled within me, and the fire stirred them all to a poisonous brew. I gasped and choked. I could not breathe. I tried to scream, but felt once more the loathsome Jordaens filling my mouth so I could not. I beheld a waking terror, more real than any dream, wherein I was burned alive in a house, and choked from the smoke. Then I perceived that it was Kano’s hand over my mouth and nose that stopped my breath. I struggled against him, but he held me firmly from behind. In vain I tried to bite. Only when I slowed, and prepared to die, did he release his hand. I drew a frantic breath, and again he clamped his hand over me, and held it there. Again and again he removed his hand for an instant, and no sooner had I taken a single breath, when he held his hand over me. After a minute, when my panic was less, he allowed me more time to catch my breath. Eventually I was calm. He released me, and lowered me gently to the ground. “You see, “ he said. “It is not so easy to breathe.” I lay on my side, my head on my arm. Once more I wept. He lay down beside me. I crawled over to him and rested my head on his chest. I fell asleep to the sound of his beating heart. I will tell you how I engulfed my lover in flames, and was rescued. I awoke feeling the warmth of fire on my face. I sat up, dismayed, confused, perceiving myself to be in danger of being swallowed by flames. But the fire was merely a small stove on which Kano brewed tea. We were in the house, and I lay on the mat. It had grown dark outside, but the air was still warm. I must have slept deep, for I felt rested and at ease. I yawned and stretched out on the mat. I played with its frayed edge. “I like it here.” “This is your last night here.” “What, are we to move on so soon?” “No. Tomorrow you will return to Edo. To your home.” “I cannot. I cannot. What will become of me?” “I know neither your future, nor can I alter your past. But I tell you this: Tomorrow you will return to Edo. Your father is coming for you.” “Supposing I wish it not?” “You would go against your father’s will?” Kano looked keenly at me, as though great import were attached to his question. “I would, if- if you commanded it.” I shuddered as I said it, bracing myself for his rejection. He was silent in thought a good while, and the while my heart beat not once. At last he sighed and spoke. “I will decide in the morning. But if you do not go with your father, what then would you do?” I could not speak. I ran to him and clasped my arms around his head, and wept tears on his neck. He stroked my hair as I kissed his shoulders, his smooth chest. He cupped my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine. He crawled to the mat and sat down. He pulled a mischievous face and beckoned me to sit by him. Laughing with joy and surprise, I scrambled over to him. Like puppies we became, rolling and laughing, licking and nibbling at each other. He rolled atop me and paused. We breathed quickly and in rhythm, our chests pressed together. His strong, smooth thigh squeezed between mine, and he bent his knee, opening me up. I let out a cry, a deep shout that never had I uttered before when he entered me. We became one. Our breathing became a rising wave, overwhelming in its power, that we rode together. I arched my back and tore at the matting with my nails. I dug into his hard backside, which squeezed and pulsed, faster and ever stronger, thrusting him deeper into me. Then the fire in me leapt into a blinding sun, and I knew no longer what I did. I became wild and deranged with lust. I bit his lip, savouring his blood. I slashed and gouged at his back, the backs of his thighs. He roared like a tiger, deep and terrifying, and I felt myself explode. He rolled over, laughing, his body twitching. I sat up trembling, holding my knees. “Why do you laugh?” I asked, although I could not help but to join in his laughter. “I don’t know. I also feel like weeping. Would you prefer it if I wept?” “At the summit of the mountain, two roads meet.” He smiled. “Now you become the teacher. I don’t understand what that means.” “It’s just something I’ve long known. Joy and sadness meet at the top of a mountain. Do you not see it as I do?” But he answered me not, for he slept. I did not wish to sleep. I went out from the house, and walked under the moon until the sky began to pale with the dawn. I returned to the house, and saw from within a red glow. I wondered at this, and went up to the door. But as I did, there was an awful crash, and the roof collapsed. Black smoke billowed out towards me, and huge flames flickered into the sky. I ran to the door and opened it. Immediately the heat became intense. I could see Kano silhouetted black in the flames, scrambling to pick up his pack. He bolted towards me, then grabbed my arm and pulled me hurriedly from the house, as the walls collapsed and red sparks and glowing cinders surrounded us. Kano sat on the ground. He was badly burned. I feared for his life. His pack was charred, and had burst open, scattering his few possessions with a clatter. Something rolled down the hill to the path below. I ran to get it for him, but suddenly he called for me to stop. I stopped, and I heard the sound of horses hooves. It could only be Samurai, I thought; for nobody here could afford to own a horse. Three mounted men appeared on the path. They slowed to a stop when they saw me, and I became aware that I was naked. I turned to run from them but one man shouted to me. “Akiko, wait!” It was my father. He dismounted. He pulled a kimono from his saddle pack and threw it to me. “Get dressed. Where is Ko? Where is the one who took you?” “I know not.” “Here.” Kano descended the slope. He stumbled and fell, raised himself up slowly, and continued. I ran to help him, in spite of my father’s orders to stay by his side. “You are Master Ko?” said my father. “You look unlike him.” “I am the one you called Ko. And I have fulfilled my task.” “Have you indeed? And where is the proof?” “It lies at your feet.” My father looked about him, and saw that which had rolled from Kano’s pack. It was a human head. It was the head of Jordaens. My father picked it up by the hair and observed it closely. “I see that it is so. But why did you take from me my daughter, whom I love more than my own life?” “Because I know of you, Riu Hideoshi. I know you would not pay unless your life or your daughter’s life depended on it. And so, I took from you your daughter as security. Would you travel here, with fifty ryu in your saddle bags if it were not for her?” “But you look fit to die. Fifty ryu is a wasted extravagance for a coffin. Especially for a thief and a hinin.” “I have lived a poor man’s life. Why should I not then be allowed to die a rich man’s death?” “I have no time for this.” He turned to his men. “Kill him.” The men dismounted, and drew their swords. I ran to save him, but my father held me. Kano uttered not a sound as they pierced him through his heart. My father went to his saddle bag and pulled out two coins. He dropped them on the ground by Kano’s body. He spat. “That is a fitting payment for a man who dares to defile my daughter.” I will now conclude my tale. Thereafter, I was brought back to my house and remained there under the care of my maidservants. My father wept long when he heard my tale, but showed no remorse for his killing of my beloved Kano. He told me of Kano, and how my father employed him to assassinate Jordaens. Kano had been already been hired by Jordaens to murder my father on the road to the Edo palace. But when he saw that my father was well guarded at all times by his henchmen, he made an offer to my father that he should turn the tables and do away with Jordaens instead. He had previously arranged to meet Jordaens in a distant cave once my father had been killed, where Jordaens would pay him off. Jordaens had arrived with no payment, intending to kill Kano. But Jordaens had found me there when he arrived. My father did not say it, but I knew what he was thinking: I had been deliberately left in the cave for Jordaens to find me. It soon became known to all what had befallen me, and I was therefore no longer fit to be given in marriage, not even to the lowliest tanner. I resolved therefore to take my life and spare my father his humiliation. But this was not my fate, for on the very day I had chosen to end my life, my father had a visit from a monk; the same one who we had encountered at the cave. He spoke long with my father, who afterwards bade me go with the monk to where he would lead me. We went on foot into Edo, into Yoshiwara, the Pleasure Quarter, wherein lived the painted prostitutes. They ranged from the most cultured daughters of Daimyo, skilled in music and painting, to the unmarried mothers of the lowest stock. I was introduced to the proprietor, one Mrs Tadasuke, as “a Go player of the 9th dan, who goes by the name of Chilli Fire, on account of her warm and pleasant countenance.” After a few minutes of discourse, Mrs Tadasuke smiled a toothless smile and told me that she would expect no more of me than to “play some of the gentlemen visitors at Go, and be sure to always let them win, but not by much.” That concludes my story. The man bowed to Chilli Fire and thanked her for her tale. As he stood to go, he asked her if it was true that she had been told always to let the man win. She bowed, smiled, but said nothing. END Historical Background This story is set in the Edo period in Japan, in the year 1680 in the western calendar. At that time, the Tokugawa shogunate ruled from Edo castle in what is now Tokyo, supported by its army of Samurai. Society was then highly stratified into four classes: warriors, farmers, artisans, and merchants. The merchants, although strictly speaking the lowest class, effectively rose in status throughout the century, due to their increasing wealth, although class intermarriage and mobility remained out of the question. Below these classes were a mass of “outcasts”, including those whose livelihood included the slaughter of animals. Migrant actors, conjurors and casual labourers fell into the lowest stratum of this class, the hinin. In 1638, the Edo Bafuku had quashed a bloody uprising of peasants, known as the Shimabara Rebellion. The rulers had blamed Christianity, which had many converts among the peasants. And so they decided to seal off Japan’s commercial barriers to all but a few Westerners, notably the Dutch. After Shimabara Rebellion the surviving rebels retreated to the countryside, where they were hunted for many years by the police. To help prevent further insurgence, the Shogun restricted travel in the land, to everyone. `` But he granted an exception to the monks of the Fuke Buddhist sect. These monks, known as the “empty-headed” monks or komuso had petitioned him, telling him that their livelihood as itinerant beggars and musicians depended on their ability to roam the country. The Fuke monks were a strange lot; while they gave their lives to contemplation and calm reflection, their teaching methods were unorthodox and often violent; many believed that shock and sudden pain could bring enlightenment. The monks practiced a form of breathing meditation called Suizen. They applied this to their songs, which they developed to an supreme level of intricacy and complexity. These “breathing songs” which they called honkyoku, were not sung: They were played on a bamboo flute; the Shakuhachi. The game of Go is played today by millions of people. Its rules are simple enough for a child to learn, yet it is greater in complexity than chess. It is a game of territory, played on a nineteen by nineteen grid painted onto a small table of wood, the Go Ban. Players alternate playing black and white stones on this board. From traditional warfare to modern business, Go analogies and strategies permeate Japanese society.