Laura Rowland - The Ronin’s Mistress

“Wait until I tell you to move,” Reiko whispered. She thrust the dagger into Masahiro’s hands. “Then do exactly as I say.” She hoped she would know what to tell him, and when.

1700 Autumn

On a glorious, sunny day, Kajikawa and his son Tsunamori walked up the white gravel path to the palace. Kajikawa looked at Tsunamori with pride. Tsunamori was a fine boy, even though he was small for his twelve years. He was also an only son, a precious thing. In him resided all Kajikawa’s hopes for the future.

Kajikawa stopped, turned Tsunamori to face him, and said, “This is a very special day.”

“Yes, Father.” Tsunamori’s eyes were bright with anticipation. He could hardly wait to start his first job in Edo Castle.

“You’ll be working for a very important man.” Kajikawa glanced toward the palace and saw Kira Yoshinaka strolling toward them. “Here he comes now.”

Dressed in his black court robes, Kira was a tall, dark silhouette cut out of the bright day. He joined Kajikawa and Tsunamori and looked down at them. His face was in the shadow that he cast over Tsunamori.

Father and son bowed. Kajikawa said, “Greetings, Honorable Master of Ceremonies. This is my son. A thousand thanks for allowing him to be your page.”

“I’m sure he’ll make my favor worthwhile.” The smile Kira gave Tsunamori was tinged with something ugly. “Are you ready to learn your duties?”

Shy and nervous, eyes cast politely downward, Tsunamori said, “Yes, master.”

“Work hard,” Kajikawa told his son. “Do everything Kira- san says. The honor of our family depends on you.” As he watched Tsunamori follow Kira into the palace, Kajikawa had no idea that he’d just given his son over to a monster.

He ignored the signs at first. Every day, after work, Tsunamori was unusually quiet. When Kajikawa asked him what he’d been doing, he made brief, vague replies. Kajikawa thought it was because he was growing up and wanted privacy. Then one night Tsunamori came home with his face bruised, his clothes torn.

“What happened?” Kajikawa said, alarmed.

Tsunamori mumbled something about a fight. Kajikawa knew that the boys at the castle always picked on newcomers. Tsunamori would learn to defend himself, like everybody else, and then he would be fine. Or so Kajikawa thought, until the day he visited Kira and asked for a report on Tsunamori’s progress.

“He’s doing an excellent job,” Kira said. “See for yourself, if you like. He’s at the Momijiyama, helping to prepare it for a ceremony.”

Kajikawa went to the Tokugawa ancestral worship shrine inside the castle. He walked under the torii gate, along the flagstone path flanked by temple dogs, through a forest where maple trees sported brilliant red leaves amid the evergreens. Kajikawa was puzzled because the shrine was so quiet, apparently deserted. Then he heard grunts, whimpers, and rustling noises from the forest. Curious, he followed them, through the trees to a clearing.

There he saw three figures joined together. In the center was Tsunamori, naked, on his hands and knees. A castle guard knelt behind Tsunamori. His kimono was hiked up around his waist, his loincloth hanging. He grunted as he rammed himself against Tsunamori’s buttocks. Another guard, similarly undressed, held Tsunamori’s face against his crotch. Tsunamori whimpered as the men took their pleasure.

Kajikawa was so sick with horror that he almost vomited. Sex between men was rampant in Edo Castle; he’d happened onto similar scenes before. He knew that the shogun’s older retainers often used the younger ones. It was the custom. It had happened to Kajikawa when he was young, and he’d almost forgotten it. But this was his son!

“Stop!” Kajikawa rushed into the clearing. He shoved the guards. “Leave him alone!”

They slunk away, straightening their clothes. Kajikawa knelt beside Tsunamori, who lay sobbing on the ground. “Has this been happening since you started working in the castle?” Kajikawa asked.

Tsunamori nodded. He picked up his clothes and slowly dressed.

“Well, it’s the last time,” Kajikawa said. “I’ll have those guards thrown out of the regime. They’ll never touch you again.”

“No!” Tsunamori cried with a vehemence that startled Kajikawa. “You mustn’t!”

“Why not?”

“Kira told them they could have me. He told me that if I didn’t let them do whatever they wanted, I would lose my post.”

Kajikawa was thunderstruck. He couldn’t believe Kira would do such a thing! But he could see that Tsunamori was telling the truth. “Go home,” he said grimly. “I’ll handle Kira.”

By the time he found Kira, in the Corridor of Pines, he was shaking with rage. “You forced my son to service those animals! You’re nothing but a dirty pimp!”

Kira smiled, the same ugly smile he’d given Tsunamori at that first meeting. “Oh, you saw the little scene at the shrine. Good.”

Fresh shock left Kajikawa breathless. “You meant for me to see? That’s why you sent me there!”

“Of course. What good is a performance without an audience?”

The gall, the heartlessness, the sheer perversion of the man! “You won’t get away with this! I’ll-I’ll-”

“Report me to the shogun?” Kira snickered. “His Excellency isn’t likely to frown on pursuits that he himself enjoys.”

Kajikawa was disheartened; he knew it was true. “I’ll tell everybody what you are!”

The smile dropped off Kira’s face. “If you utter one complaint or accusation, I’ll have you and your son both thrown out of the regime.” He raised a finger at Kajikawa, a warning that it wielded more power than Kajikawa had in the world. Then Kira turned and glided away.

Kajikawa spent a sleepless night. His fear of Kira argued with his need to protect his son and his thirst for revenge. He’d never been a brave man, and fear won out. It would be best, for him and Tsunamori both, if he did nothing rather than risk the disgrace and hardship of their becoming ronin.

“You’ll just have to put up with it until the guards get tired of you or Kira finds someone else to pick on,” Kajikawa told Tsunamori the next day.

“Yes, Father,” Tsunamori said meekly.

As months passed, Kajikawa couldn’t meet Tsunamori’s eyes and think of what his son suffered while he looked the other way. He couldn’t bear to admit he’d let Tsunamori down.

One winter night, Tsunamori didn’t come home. The next morning, Kajikawa ran all over the castle, searching for him. He found Tsunamori at the shrine, dangling from a noose tied to a branch of a tree in the clearing where the guards had raped him. Kajikawa had come too late. Tsunamori was dead.

In his anguish, Kajikawa blamed Kira. Kira had brought about the degradation that had caused Tsunamori to take his own life. Kira should be punished. But Kajikawa was still afraid of Kira. Instead of registering a vendetta and killing his enemy, Kajikawa sought another way to settle the score. He began spying on Kira. He secretly watched and listened to Kira torment Lord Asano. He witnessed sharp exchanges between Kira and Oishi. Eventually, he followed Kira to the squalid little inn by the river.

He hid in a bamboo grove and watched Kira peek through a hole in the window of a room. After a short while, Kira left, smiling his ugly smile. Then Kajikawa saw Oishi exit the room next to the one Kira had spied on. Oishi’s expression was grim enough to turn wine into vinegar. A few moments afterward, a woman ran weeping from the room on the other side. Interested to see what had upset her and Oishi so much, Kajikawa tiptoed to the window and looked through Kira’s peephole.

In the room, Lord Asano slumped naked on the bed. A woman stood with her back to him, dressing. Her head was bowed as if in shame. Lord Asano said, “Your husband is my loyal chief retainer and best friend. I wish I could take back what I did.”