The Ronin’s Mistress

“I’ll try to get the house of Asano reinstated,” Oishi said. “I don’t expect to succeed, but I owe it to Lord Asano. The rest of you will convince Kira that revenge is the last thing on our minds. You can pretend to accept that you’ve lost your samurai status and go to work like good little commoners. Or you can pretend to become good- for-nothing bums. Make sure that lots of people see you. We want word to get back to Kira.”

One man said, “I’ll be a bum. That’s easier than working.” Laughter arose.

“Remember that it’s just an act,” Oishi warned. “You have to stay strong and keep your wits. Kira is a careful bastard. Even after he thinks he’s safe, he’ll still keep troops around him. We’ll have to fight. You need to be ready.

“We also need someone to spy on Kira, to determine the best place and time to attack.” Oishi chose three of the cleverest men. “Learn his routine. Cultivate some informants. If he’s spying on us, we need to be aware. And we’d better split up, so he won’t guess that we’re conspiring against him.” He divided the men into three groups that would stage themselves in Osaka, Kamakura, and Miyako.

“How will we keep in contact?” one of the spies asked.

“Chikara and I will stay in Edo,” Oishi said. “Send me messages here unless I give you other instructions. Everyone let me know where you can be reached. I’ll let you know when it’s time to act.” He rose. “Are we understood?”

The men stood and said in unison, “Yes.” Chikara felt their spirits and his swell with a sense of destiny.

“Then farewell,” Oishi said, “until we meet again.”

Time passed. His campaign to reinstate the house of Asano failed. His spies reported that Kira was still vigilant about security. The Asano ronin were scattered across Japan. One night in the early summer of the year after Lord Asano’s death, Chikara and his parents were sitting by the hearth, his young sisters asleep in a corner, when there was a knock at the door. Oishi let in Kinemon, one of the spies.

“I’ve come to warn you,” Kinemon said. “Kira is suspicious. He’s been making inquiries about you. He thinks you’re up to something. I heard that he plans to have you framed for some kind of crime and exiled to Sado Island.”

Horror filled Chikara. “What are we going to do?”

“I’ll allay Kira’s suspicions.” Oishi stood, calm and resigned. “I will leave Edo. Tonight.”

Chikara’s mother stared in shock and grief at his father. She said, “Please don’t leave me!”

“My dearest,” Oishi said tenderly. “You knew this day would come.”

She was the only person outside the group of ronin who knew about the plan. “But not so soon.” Tears welled in her eyes.

“You know what I have to do,” Oishi said. “You know it’s against the law. To save you and our children from sharing my punishment, I must sever my ties with you.” He spoke with pain and reluctance. “I will obtain a divorce.”

Ukihashi wept, but she didn’t protest. She understood her husband’s obligations.

Oishi said to Chikara, “You can come with me, or you can stay and take care of your mother and sisters.”

Chikara understood that this was the biggest decision he would ever have to make. His mother sobbed. They both knew where his duty lay. Without hesitation he said, “I’ll go with you, Father.”

As Chikara and his father packed a few belongings, Oishi said, “We won’t wake the girls.”

“What shall I tell them?” Ukihashi asked.

Oishi held her hands, looked into her eyes. “People will say terrible things about me. They’ll probably be true. But I swear that no matter what I do, I love you and our girls. Tell them that. Remember.”

Ukihashi whispered, “I will.” She embraced him, then Chikara, for the last time.

Oishi and Chikara traveled to Miyako. That summer, at a teahouse named Ichiriki, they secretly met up with nineteen ronin that Oishi had sent there. The men had become laborers, traders, or monks. None sported the trappings of their former class. Oishi and Chikara had left their swords at their lodgings; hats covered their crowns, where stubble had begun to grow. After greetings and toasts, Oishi said, “Let’s take an oath.” He raised his fist. “I swear, on my ancestors’ graves, to deliver Kira to justice and avenge Lord Asano.”

Chikara’s and everyone else’s fists shot into the air. Voices solemnly repeated the oath. A foreboding silence fell. Then one of the men said, “Why have you come, Oishi-san? I thought you were going to stay in Edo until it’s time for the deed to be done.” When Oishi explained, the man said, “Kira has spies in Miyako, too. They’re always watching us. They’re bound to find out that you’re here.”

“I’ll give them something to report.”

The next day Oishi began frequenting the teahouses, where he pretended to drink too much. He became loud and obnoxious; he picked fights. He took a mistress, a young girl named Okaru, who was too stupid to realize that she was just part of his act. One day he poured wine over himself, then collapsed on the street, in a feigned, drunken stupor.

Chikara waited nearby, watching people jeer at Oishi. A man with a cross face stopped and said, “Oishi- san? Is that you? Why are you lying in the gutter? What happened?” He recoiled in disgust. “The rumors are true, then. You’ve become a bum.” He announced, “This is Oishi Kuranosuke, former retainer to Lord Asano. He doesn’t have the courage to avenge his master’s death. Faithless beast!” He trampled on Oishi and spat in his face. “You are unworthy of the name of samurai!”

Oishi signaled Chikara to stand back while a crowd joined in the taunting, kicking, and spitting. His plan to defame himself worked. The winter after he and Chikara left Edo, they learned, from their own spies there, that Kira thought he had nothing to fear from the Asano ronin. His estate was no longer as heavily guarded as a fort. It was time.

Oishi contacted the ronin who’d gone to other cities. Forty-seven men, counting Oishi and Chikara, still remained loyal. They returned to Edo, one by one, anonymously and inconspicuously, and gathered at a cheap inn.

“I’ve found out Kira is having a banquet at his house tomorrow,” Kinemon said. “He and his men are sure to drink so much that they’ll be easy targets.”

“We’ll attack late tomorrow night,” Oishi decided.

Kinemon unrolled a large sheet of paper on the table. “Here are the plans for the house.”

“How did you get them?”

“I married the daughter of the man who built Kira’s estate. I stole the plans from his office.”

Reviewing the plans, Oishi discovered the secret exit in Kira’s bedchamber. The forty-seven ronin checked the equipment they’d brought; they settled on their strategy. Oishi looked around the table and said, “You can back out if you want.”

Chikara and the others were moved to tears. They knew he was giving them a chance to save their lives, and if they took it, he wouldn’t think ill of them. He loved them that much. His generosity cemented their loyalty to him and to their dead master.

“We’re not backing out,” Chikara said. “I swear, on my ancestors’ graves, to deliver Kira to justice and avenge Lord Asano.” The other men seconded him, renewing their oath.

Oishi’s stern expression didn’t hide the gratitude in his eyes. “Tomorrow night we go to meet our fate.”

* * *

When Chikara had finished his tale, Hirata said, “So you waited almost two years just to put Kira off his guard. That’s all there was to it?”

“That’s it,” Chikara said.

Hirata raised the issue that Chikara’s story hadn’t clarified. “After Kira was dead, why did you wait for orders?”

“Because my father said we should.”

Hirata shook his head.

Chikara frowned, offended. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“You’re hiding something. I can tell.”

“How?” Chikara backed away from Hirata, suspicious and fearful. “Are you doing some kind of magic on me?”

Hirata had learned to read dishonesty in human energy auras. It made them vibrate at a quick, erratic frequency, as Chikara’s aura did now. But he said, “I don’t need magic. Look at yourself.” He pointed to Chikara’s