Shinju

He remembered that long-ago day in the courtyard of her father’s mansion. He had been ten years old, ugly and already huge, painfully shy and sensitive and awkward. A confused child in a man’s body which he hadn’t yet learned to control. An outcast, trying not to cry as the other young samurai attacked him with their wooden swords.

“Kill the ugly demon!” they shouted.

Just when he could no longer hold back the tears, she came. Beautiful and imperious even at age seven, she sent his tormenters fleeing with a single glance. He gaped at her, too stupid and surprised to think of anything to say.

But his silence seemed to please her; she smiled. Pointing a tiny finger straight at him, she said in her high, little-girl voice, “You shall be my servant.”

He never understood why she’d chosen him from among her father’s retainers, never questioned his good fortune. He only knew that his life had changed in a miraculous way. With her patronage, he gained standing and respect. No child ever dared tease him again; no adult ever scolded him for his stupidity. And he repaid his mistress. He perfected his fighting skills so that he could protect her. He obeyed her every order instantly. When she married, he helped her manage the daimyo’s household, spying on its members for her, punishing them for her. He loved her, but asked nothing in return except the honor of serving her. His greatest fear was that he might disgrace himself by failing to please her. For Lady Niu, he’d gladly killed Noriyoshi, O-hisa, and even Miss Yukiko, whom he’d liked for her beauty and sweetness. Discovering that he had killed the boy Tsunehiko instead of Sano had seemed like the worst catastrophe of his life.

Until now. Never, before he’d taken his sword to Lady Niu, had he ever imagined feeling such pain over carrying out her orders.

And now she was gone. He had nothing, no one to live for. Grief swelled his throat; the pressure of unshed tears built until he thought his head would burst. He looked down at Lady Niu’s body and saw instead the smiling face of a beautiful seven-year-old girl.

Dimly he grew aware of someone shouting at him. He blinked, and the room sprang into focus. The man Sano, whom he’d forgotten, was standing in front of him. Locked in his private void, he couldn’t make sense of the man’s words, or understand his agitation. But Sano’s presence reminded him that he had one final task to perform for Lady Niu.

“Eii-chan, can you hear me?” Sano shouted in increasing desperation. “Can you understand what I’m saying?”

Lady Niu’s death had greatly diminished his chances of proving his innocence and saving his own life. But perhaps he could still save the shogun. At Lord Niu’s secret meeting, he’d gotten the impression that the assassination attempt would happen soon. Possibly while he still had his freedom? Without much hope, he turned to the silent and unmoving Eii-chan for the information he needed because there was no one else left to ask.

“Do you know where young Lord Niu is, or when he plans to attack the shogun?”

He resisted the impulse to grab the manservant and shake him, instead keeping a respectful distance away. Eii-chan might still be dangerous even without Lady Niu to direct him.

“If you do know, tell me. If you can. Please!”

The manservant gave no sign that he heard or understood. Instead he laid his sword down beside his mistress’s body. Careful not to step in her blood, he walked to a writing desk by the window. He pointed at the sheet of paper that lay there. The inked characters on it, still wet, shone in the lamplight.

Lady Niu’s farewell letter! Sano snatched it up eagerly in the futile wish that her message would somehow help him. Disappointment crushed him as he scanned the page.

To my dear and only son Masahito,

Know from this, my last message, that I love you above anyone or anything else in this world. To protect you I had Yukiko, Noriyoshi, and O-hisa killed. I also ordered the death of Sano Ichiro, whose secretary died in his place. Accept these terrible deeds as proof of the devotion that you would never let me express directly in words or gestures.

Now, in spite of my duty to your father, our family, and our lord shogun, I cannot bear to betray you. Therefore I choose jigai, the only alternative left to me, in order that I may restore my honor after failing both you and the others to whom I owe the debt of loyalty.

My dying wishes are two. The first, that you honor my spirit by not committing this treasonous act which will only destroy you. I know that you would not grant me this request in life; please grant it now. Do not let me have died in vain.

My second wish is that Sano Ichiro will stop you-if you do not stop yourself-and thus rescue our family from death and disgrace as I cannot.

And now I take my farewell of you, my beloved son. The merciful Buddha willing, may we meet again someday in the hereafter.

Your Mother

Sano leaned wearily against the wall, letting the paper dangle from one hand. Here at last was proof of the murders-and of his own innocence-in the form of Lady Niu’s confession. Little good might it do him now, with the police more likely to kill him than to listen to reason! And it wouldn’t save the shogun. After what Lady Niu had told him, he doubted whether her plea would influence her willful son.

“Read. Letter. Me.”

The sound of Eii-chan’s voice, rusty with disuse, made Sano’s head snap up in surprise. Never having heard him speak, he’d assumed that the manservant was mute.

“Read,” Eii-chan repeated, bowing his head and clasping his hands like a beggar.

Sano had no more time to waste at the yashiki. He must at least try to deliver the scroll and Lady Niu’s letter to the authorities so they could arrest Lord Niu and prevent the assassination. He must try to exonerate himself before someone killed him. But he’d suspected all along that Eii- chan was intelligent; his stealthy pursuit of Sano and Tsunehiko on the highway meant he was good at spying, perhaps on his own household as well. And now he knew Eii- chan could talk. Perhaps doing as Eii-chan asked would make the manservant tell what, if anything, he knew about Lord Niu’s plans. Sano read the letter aloud.

When he finished, Eii-chan waited in silence for a moment. Then he grunted, “Is. All?” His face reflected the surprise in his voice.

“Yes.” Sano thought quickly. “Eii-chan, listen to me,” he said, stepping closer and extending a hand in tentative entreaty. “Lady Niu wishes me to stop Lord Niu, but I may die before I can warn the right people about him.” He forced himself to keep the impatience out of his voice. “And even if they do learn of the conspiracy, they may not act in time. So if you know where Lord Niu is now, please tell me. For her sake.”

A shake of the head, a shrug, his hands spread to profess ignorance, was his only response.

“Do you know when and where he plans to attack the shogun?”

But Eii-chan only brushed him away with a sweep of his mighty arm. He crossed the room to kneel beside Lady Niu’s body. Her blood soaked his garments, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. Unresponsive to further pleas, he stared mournfully down at her severed head as if the world and everything else in it had ceased to exist.

In despair, Sano reviewed every fact he’d learned about Lord Niu. But none gave the slightest hint at where or when the plot would culminate. Sano opened the scroll, seeking some hidden message within its lines. Then he stopped in the act of replacing the scroll inside his cloak. As he gazed at it, his vision blurred; a forgotten memory surfaced. His breath caught.

He saw Lord Niu at the secret meeting, standing on the platform, waving the scroll as he recited a poem.

“The sun sets over the plain-”

Good luck as the New Year approaches.”

Now Sano belatedly recognized the poem’s references. “Sunset, and the coming of the New Year- Setsubun,” he said aloud in a voice hushed with dawning enlightenment.” ‘Luck’ and ‘plain’: ‘Lucky Plain!’ “-the familiar euphemism for the Yoshiwara pleasure quarter.