I. Parker: The Old Men of Omi

The son talked about his father’s murder, wiping tears from his eyes. “I blame myself. We should have stayed with him. Or at least left a servant behind. But who would have thought that such a thing could happen on our quiet street? In the harbor now, that’s another matter.”

“I did not have the pleasure of meeting you when I called on your father recently,” Akitada said.

“I run the shipping side of the business. Usually I’m in my office near the harbor.”

Akitada commented on the good health of his grandchildren.

His wife bowed her thanks and said, “It was for the sake of the little ones that we went to the fair. My daughter had come for a visit. She lives with her husband in the capital.”

At this point, feeling all eyes on himself, the little boy, who was perhaps five, said, “I saw the dolly man.”

His grandmother hushed him, but he was persistent. “I wanted that dolly. I wanted the monkey dolly.”

His mother said, “He means the puppet man. From the fair.”

Akitada thought of all the fairs and of his own children, disappointed once again. He asked the merchant, “Did your father have other children?”

“No, sir. And we have only a daughter, but now there are grandchildren, and it may be that one of them will run the business some day. Who did this, sir? My father was old, but he was very healthy. First my uncle and now my father! Who hated him so much?”

Takechi cleared his throat. “Have you received any threats? Say from people who borrowed money from you or your father?”

The merchant bristled. “No. We are fair, and we don’t lend money to untrustworthy people. My Uncle did more lending than we do now. My father rarely advanced funds. He hated that business. He said it brought my uncle death. Does this have anything to do with my uncle?”

Akitada and Takechi exchanged a glance. Akitada said, “Perhaps, but we cannot be certain. Did your father ever mention anyone watching the house?” He looked around the room, but they all shook their heads.

“You think someone was watching us?” asked his wife. “Are we in danger?”

“Probably not,” said Akitada. “But I think you should keep your eyes open for a while and not go anywhere alone.”

“Amida!” cried the merchant. “They are right. A maniac is loose in Otsu and he’s after my family.” The women cried out in dismay, his wife pulling the children closer to her.

“Please calm down,” said Akitada. “There is probably no reason to be afraid, but it couldn’t hurt to be careful for a few days. We are close to getting the man responsible for these deaths.” It was a hopeful lie, because he hated having put them into a panic.

They left after this, and Akitada returned to the tribunal to report to Kosehira.

Kosehira was dismissing a citizen’s delegation with some reassuring words and a smile. As soon as the door closed behind them, he waved Akitada to a cushion and asked, “Well? Anything?”

“I’m not sure,” said Akitada. “This business made me realize that there have been fairs in all the other cases.”

“Oh, Akitada, it’s the time of year. It’s spring, rice planting season. All the shrines put on fairs to bring people in to pray to the kami for a good harvest and to collect donations. The temples are also behind it. Enryaku-ji sponsors many shrine fairs as well as the big one coming up that you won’t bring your children to see.”

Kosehira’s reproachful face made Akitada smile. “I told them we might come up just for the day of the procession.”

“You won’t stay with us?”

Too late Akitada realized he had made an error. He did not know what to say and muttered something about work at the ministry.

Kosehira recognized this for prevarication. His face set, he demanded, “What happened at my house to send you away in such a rush and make you refuse to come back?”

Akitada just shook his head and muttered, “Nothing, Kosehira. Nothing at all?”

“This has something to do with Yukiko, right?”

“No, no.” Akitada was aware that he had flushed. “Kosehira,” he begged, “let it go. Nothing happened. I’m just in one of my moods.”

For a few moments, Kosehira did not speak. Then he said, “I was wrong to push my daughter at you. It was not respectful of either of you. Now I have made her desperately unhappy, and you refuse to accept my hospitality. I beg your pardon.”

Akitada gazed at him. He thought he must have misheard. “What?”

Kosehira wrung his hands in distress. “I’m sorry, Akitada. Believe me, I thought it would help you to have someone to love again. And Yukiko, well, she’s my favorite, though I’ll deny it if you mention it to anyone. I wanted her to have a happy marriage. Like Tamako’s.”

Akitada found his voice. “You wanted me to meet your daughter because you wished us to be married?”

“Yes. That’s why I arranged your stay at my house.”

“But Kosehira, I’m too old for her and certainly not a good prospect in terms of rank and influence.”

Kosehira waved a hand to disperse such objections like gnats. “Who cares? I know you and I know you would be kind to my child.”

Weak with the shock of this revelation, Akitada burst into laughter. “Oh, Kosehira,” he gasped. “With you for a father-in-law, no son-in-law would dare mistreat Yukiko.”

Kosehira did not smile. “You don’t understand. It doesn’t matter. I’ll try to look after her. The trouble is she’s been talking about becoming a nun. Yukiko a nun? Think about it.”

Akitada thought about it and stopped laughing. “I thought she planned to marry the prime minister’s son?”

“She doesn’t like him.”

An awkward silence fell, while thoughts chased each other in Akitada’s mind like agitated koi in Yukiko’s fishpond. “Kosehira,” he finally said, “I left because I’d fallen in love with your daughter.”

Kosehira’s jaw sagged for a moment. Then he jumped up, laughing out loud, and performed a little dance. Grasping Akitada by the hands, he pulled him up, embraced him, and then made him dance about with him. They were both laughing.

When heads appeared in the doorway, they stopped.

Kosehira waved his clerks away. “Never mind,” he called out..”Just some very good news.”

They left, and Kosehira looked as if he might start dancing again. Akitada, deeply embarrassed, though quite ridiculously happy, cleared his throat. They resumed their seats and looked at each other, smiling.

Akitada said, “I’m too old for her.”

Kosehira countered with, “ She doesn’t think so.”

“You mean she would really agree?”

“Of course. You nearly broke her heart.”

They fell silent. Akitada sat, shaking his head, smiling, suddenly impatient to see her, to be certain she really wanted this.

Kosehira guessed his thoughts. “No time like the present. You’ll stay with her tonight?”

“Dear gods,” protested Akitada, “you cannot rush such a thing. I have not had any time to court her. She has not met my children.”

“Yes, but hurry up, will you?”

Akitada promised.

Kosehira next insisted on discussing his daughter’s dowry. Akitada was reminded that Tamako had brought him nothing but herself and an empty lot where her father’s house had stood. His ears were ringing by the time Kosehira was done. He said weakly, “It shall all be hers and her children’s.”

Kosehira rubbed his hands. “It’s all set then. I’ll have the papers drawn up tomorrow.”

As soon as they reached Kosehira’s villa that evening, Akitada went into the garden, hoping to find Yukiko.