Laura Rowland - The Ronin’s Mistress

“We’ve brought food,” Reiko said. She and Chiyo unpacked the boxes.

“Oh, how wonderful!” Okaru fell upon the food. “You’re so kind!”

Her fingers wielded the chopsticks so quickly yet so gracefully. Her perfect little teeth shone as she took each bite of dumpling, pickle, and rice cake. Her soft lips glistened. She licked them with her delicate pink tongue. Masahiro was captivated.

“How did those people find out that you’re Oishi’s … fiancee?” Chiyo asked.

“Yesterday I told the maids who cleaned my room. They brought a friend of theirs-a man who writes news broadsheets. I talked to him. This morning they said he’s been selling my story all over town.” Chagrined, Okaru said, “I was flattered until those people came and started demanding to see me, as if I were a freak at a peep show.”

“You would have been wiser to keep your business private,” Chiyo said.

Masahiro sensed that Chiyo didn’t like Okaru.

Okaru hung her head. “I realize that now, but they were so interested, and so kind. It was stupid. I’m sorry.”

“In the future, don’t be so frank with strangers,” Reiko said.

Masahiro agreed that Okaru should have kept quiet, but his mother and Chiyo shouldn’t blame her; she was too innocent to know that not everyone could be trusted.

Okaru nodded humbly. “Thank you for your advice.” She finished eating and said, “I’m so worried about Oishi. Have you any news of him?”

“My husband has put him under house arrest,” Reiko said, and explained about the supreme court.

Breathless with relief, Okaru clasped a hand to her bosom. “At least he’s still alive.”

A pain as sharp as a stab pierced Masahiro’s heart. Somehow, it hurt to see how much she loved Oishi. Masahiro was beginning to dislike Oishi, even though yesterday he’d admired the man as an example of samurai honor. Everything had seemed so simple then. The world had turned into a strange, confusing place overnight.

“Is there a chance that Oishi will be pardoned?” Okaru said eagerly.

“Perhaps only a small one,” Reiko said. “Many important people are in favor of condemning all of the forty-seven ronin to death. My husband is investigating the case. Everything depends on what he learns. I told him what you said Oishi told you about the vendetta. He promised to take it into account. But it would help if you could remember anything else Oishi said.”

Okaru shook her head sadly. “I’ve tried and tried, but I really don’t remember.”

The door slid open, pushed so hard that it crashed against its frame. A woman stumbled into the room. She was breathing hard; she brought with her a stale, sour smell. Tall and very thin, she wore a baggy coat and had long, gray-streaked hair twisted carelessly in a knot. Her face was square, her fine features emaciated.

“Which one of you is Okaru?” Her eyes, red and watery from the cold, blazed with anger.

Everyone stared at her in surprise. Reiko said, “Who are you?”

The woman’s gaze settled on Okaru. She advanced on the girl, who leaned back, intimidated. She ignored everyone else. Masahiro thought she seemed angry, satisfied, and sad at the same time. “My name is Ukihashi. I’m Oishi’s wife.”

Shock parted Okaru’s lips. “What-why-?”

As Ukihashi gazed down at Okaru, her expression turned to disgust. “Merciful gods, you’re less than half his age.” The anger in her eyes flared. “You stole my husband!”

“No,” Okaru said in a faint voice. “I didn’t-”

“Don’t pretend to be so innocent,” Ukihashi shouted. “You seduced him. But he’s as guilty as you are.” Fists clenched, she spat her words into Okaru’s face. “Because of him, I’ve come down in the world. Once I was as pretty as you are, but look at me now!” She flung out her arms. She wore ragged gloves, her fingers bare. Her face had dry, scaly patches of skin; her lips were cracked and raw. Her padded coat was faded, stained, ripped, and leaking feathers.

“I’m sorry.” Okaru looked so ashamed that Masahiro felt bad for her. “But, you see, Oishi had already divorced you by the time he met-”

Ukihashi slapped Okaru’s face. “You evil little whore!”

Okaru yelped in pain. Ukihashi grabbed the front of her robe, hauled her to her feet, and shook her, spewing curses. “Help!” Okaru cried.

Masahiro rushed to Ukihashi and tried to pull her off Okaru. But Ukihashi was stronger than she looked. Hauling Okaru across the room, she towed Masahiro along.

“Stop!” Reiko ordered.

Ukihashi dragged Okaru out the door and began hitting her. “Thief! You couldn’t get a man of your own, so you took mine!”

She shoved Okaru. The girl screamed, fell off the veranda, and landed in the snow. Ukihashi wrenched free of Masahiro, pounced on Okaru, and clawed at her eyes. Okaru struggled, crying, “Leave me alone, you crazy woman!”

Men watching over the fence cheered. The inn’s other guests came out of their rooms to see what was happening. The proprietor rushed over and said, “She climbed the fence. I couldn’t stop her.” He wrung his hands as the two women fought. “Will someone please break it up?”

Masahiro waded into the snow. Ukihashi had Okaru on the ground under her knees. He pulled on Ukihashi while she mashed snow into Okaru’s face. Okaru squealed. Ukihashi turned on Masahiro and shrieked, “Stay out of this!”

She punched his face. He yelled as the blow exploded against his nose and propelled him backward. He landed on his buttocks in the snow. Hot, salty-sweet blood trickled down his throat and spilled from his nostrils. He heard his mother call her guards. They rushed in and tore Ukihashi away from Okaru. It took three men to hold Ukihashi while she struggled and screamed and the spectators cheered. Okaru sat up, coughing and spitting out snow. Reiko and Chiyo hurried to Masahiro.

“Are you hurt?” Reiko asked anxiously. “Oh, your nose is bleeding!” Chiyo offered a handkerchief. Reiko pressed it against his nose. “Tilt your head back. Come inside.”

As he obeyed, he saw Okaru turn her head in his direction. His face went hot with embarrassment. That he’d tried to protect her and had his nose bloodied by an old woman! And now he was being treated like a baby.

“Leave me alone,” he said gruffly. “I’m all right.”

Chiyo helped Okaru to her feet and into the room. Masahiro tried to shrug off his mother as she continued fussing over him. Reiko removed the handkerchief long enough to see that blood was still oozing from his nose. “Stay still. Don’t be so impatient.”

Masahiro couldn’t bear to look at Okaru. He couldn’t help looking. She smiled at him while she wiped her face and hair with a towel. Embarrassment turned to humiliation.

Lieutenant Tanuma appeared at the door. “Lady Reiko, what do you want us to do with that woman? Should we let her go?”

“No,” Reiko said. “I want to talk to her.” She turned to Masahiro. “Keep your head back and keep pressing on your nose with the handkerchief.”

“Should I come with you or stay with Masahiro?” Chiyo said.

“You can go,” Okaru said. “I’ll be here.”

When his mother and Chiyo left, Masahiro panicked. He’d fought in battles and faced death like a man, but he was terrified to be alone with Okaru. What would he say to her? Masahiro clutched the handkerchief against his nose and stared desperately at the ceiling, as if he could find the answer written there.

Okaru knelt beside him. He glanced sideways at her. She smiled again. Masahiro realized how stupid he must look. He tilted his head down and cautiously sniffed.

“Has the bleeding stopped?” Okaru asked.

“I think so.”

“That’s good.”