Laura Rowland - The Iris Fan

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Yanagisawa said. “What matters is whether the shogun believes you’re guilty, and when I’m done with you, he will. You won’t live to inherit the dictatorship.”

“Don’t forget, I have Yoshisato. Step out of line again, and he’ll be as dead as everybody else thinks he is.”

Yanagisawa swallowed the panic that always clutched his heart whenever he thought of his beloved son at the mercy of Ienobu’s henchmen. “You’ve only got him until I find him.”

“I suspect you’ve been looking for him all these years. You haven’t found him yet.”

Every trail had gone cold, and there had been no new leads for fifteen months, but Yanagisawa said, “I feel my luck changing.”

Ienobu chuckled, a sound like the rattle of a snake. “Your time is running out. The shogun is going to die.” He didn’t have to say, When I take over the regime, I won’t need to keep your son-or you-alive any longer.

“Maybe the shogun will make a miraculous recovery and my searchers are rescuing Yoshisato even as we speak.” Yanagisawa added with sly humor, “I feel your luck changing, too.”

“Are you really willing to gamble that you can find Yoshisato, or destroy me, before the shogun dies and before I can send out my orders to have Yoshisato killed?”

Yanagisawa answered with passion, a substitute for certainty. “ Yes. ”

The parade slowed. Yanagisawa heard Sano say, “The footprints stop here.”

Over the heads of the men in front of him Yanagisawa saw a massive oak door banded in iron and decorated with carved flowers. It sealed the door to the Large Interior, the private section of the palace where the shogun’s wife, female concubines, their attendants and maids lived. A murmur swept through the crowd.

“A woman stabbed the shogun?”

“Here’s your new chaperone,” Midori said.

Taeko’s heart sank as she beheld the plain young maid named Umeko, whose sharp eyes missed nothing.

“How am I supposed to keep her away from Masahiro, along with all my other work?” Umeko said in her nasal, insolent voice.

Taeko missed the old days, before they got so poor, when their servants were polite. Now they had servants like Umeko that richer folks wouldn’t put up with.

“Taeko will help you do your work.” Midori glowered at Taeko. “Cleaning house will keep you too busy to get in trouble.”

Umeko led Taeko into the bedchamber; the younger children were asleep there. She laid bedding in front of the door and tucked herself in. “I’m a light sleeper. Don’t bother trying to sneak out.”

Taeko crawled into her own bed and lay awake and miserable in the dark. She’d been so happy in love with Masahiro that she hadn’t thought about the future. She couldn’t bear to be separated from him, and if they couldn’t marry, all was lost.

“Taeko?” whispered Masahiro, kneeling outside the chamber on the other side of the paper wall.

“What are you doing here?” Taeko whispered, glad to have him near her yet afraid Umeko would catch them.

“I wanted to tell you, I’m sorry for what happened.” Masahiro expelled a mournful breath. “I shouldn’t have started this.”

“It’s not your fault. I wanted it as much as you did.” This was such a bold, unfeminine thing to say, Taeko’s face burned.

“But I’m older. I should have kept things under control.”

Glum silence stretched between them. Taeko whispered, “What are we going to do?”

“I’ll think of something.” But Masahiro sounded as forlorn as she felt.

Taeko thought of the times when matchmakers had brought proposals from clans that wanted to wed their daughters to Masahiro. Each time she’d prayed that the marriage would fall through. Each time one had, she’d secretly rejoiced, but now she was scared.

“You won’t marry someone else, will you?” Her voice came out loud and shrill.

“Shh! Don’t worry. It’s like I said: Nobody else wants me.”

“But if somebody did…?”

“I’ll never marry anybody but you.” Masahiro spoke with impatience and tenderness.

Hearing him say it pleased Taeko but didn’t relieve her fear. She knew how much he loved, respected, and felt a duty toward his parents. If a match were arranged for him, would he be able to say no? “We should run away and get married!”

He shifted position; she sensed his surprise. “You mean, leave Edo?”

“Why not?” Taeko hurried to justify the drastic action. “Our families will never let us be together. It’s the only way.”

“What about my post?”

Unhappy because he sounded so reluctant, Taeko said, “You’re just a patrol guard. That’s nothing to give up.”

“Nothing except my honor!” The heat of his anger burned through the paper wall. “If I leave the shogun’s service, I’ll be a deserter and a rōnin .”

Taeko had heard about Bushido all her life, but she didn’t understand why Masahiro and his father cared so much about it, when it only seemed to get them in trouble. She’d heard Reiko and Sano arguing about it. Their arguments frightened Taeko. With her father gone and her mother often cross and mean, she looked to Sano and Reiko as parents. If they couldn’t get along, there was no security. It frightened her that now she and Masahiro were arguing about the same thing.

“What’s so bad about being a masterless samurai?” Taeko thought it couldn’t be worse than being poor and looked down on. “At least you can do what you want.”

“It’s the biggest disgrace there is! Besides that, what would we live on?”

“You could teach martial arts, like your father did before he got into the government.”

“That would be a giant step backward for our family!”

“Maybe I could sell my paintings.” Taeko had always loved painting. She painted even though her mother told her it wasn’t for girls. Her work looked as good as many of the paintings in the shops. To be an artist was her cherished dream.

To be Masahiro’s wife was her most urgent wish.

“Oh, sure,” Masahiro said flatly. “We’d starve.” Although he’d admired her paintings, he obviously didn’t think they were worth much. “And don’t you see, if we ran away, we’d be dropping out of the samurai class? We’d never see our families again.”

Taeko hadn’t thought that far. The idea of never seeing her mother, brother, or sister again was disturbing, but she said, “We would have each other.”

His robes rustled as Masahiro stirred uncomfortably. Desperate, Taeko said, “I thought you loved me.” It seemed that there were limitations to his love.

“I do.” Masahiro sounded more impatient than passionate.

“Then let’s run away together and get married!”

Masahiro was speechless for a long, tense moment. Taeko heard him draw, hold, then release his breath. “You never seemed to care about getting married. Why are you talking like this all of a sudden?”

The sound of heavy footsteps in the corridor spared Taeko the necessity of answering. Detective Marume called, “Lady Reiko!”

“Why are you home so early?” came Reiko’s surprised voice. “Where’s my husband?”

“Sano- san is at the palace. The shogun was stabbed tonight. He’s not dead, but he’s badly wounded.”

Reiko exclaimed. Masahiro muttered under his breath. Taeko could tell that he was upset by the news but glad for the interruption.

“Why is there blood all over you?” Reiko asked.

“Long story, later,” Marume said. “I’m heading to the palace to find out what’s happening there, as soon as I wash up.”

Masahiro jumped to his feet and called, “I’m going, too!” He whispered to Taeko, “I have to help my father. Don’t worry. Someday, somehow, we’ll be married. I promise.” Then he ran off.