Ruri Pilgrim - Fish of the Seto Inland Sea

Yasuharu was one of her younger brothers. The family had the custom of referring to each other with a respectful ‘san’ at the end of their names.

‘Oh!’

‘Everybody says he is very intelligent, and very kind,’ Ayako said.

‘You don’t understand.’ Tei-ichi struggled to regain his composure. ‘You don’t know what it means to get married. You have no idea, do you understand? You have no idea. It is not playing house. You have to leave us and your home for ever and live somewhere else with someone else.’ Then he said, even more sternly, ‘It is not like going to stay at your cousin’s. You cannot come back. I will not allow you to come back.’ But after a moment, he added wistfully, ‘That is, as a member of this family. You can visit here, of course, but not to live.’

Ayako was listening respectfully but Tei-ichi did not feel that she was in any way impressed by his speech.

‘Did you realise that Ayako is growing up to be a daring modern girl?’ Tei-ichi complained when he was alone with Kei that night.

Kei put a cup of tea in front of her husband and sat directly on the tatami floor without a zabuton , a cushion.

‘Has Ayako done something wrong?’ she asked.

‘I asked her what she thought of marrying Dr Shintaro.’

‘It was kind of you to ask how she feels about it.’

‘Hum!’

Tei-ichi realised that it had been thoughtful of him. A lot of girls would not be given the opportunity to express their opinion. Marriage was the union of two families regardless of the sentiments of the persons immediately concerned.

Kei had not been told about the proposal from the Miwas.

‘So, are you giving her to the Miwas?’

‘There is no reason why not. He is a splendid fellow. But Ayako is too young. She does not know what marriage means. She does not know anything about men and women.’

‘So, what did Ayako say?’ As Tei-ichi went silent, Kei prompted him.

Tei-ichi remembered his surprise.

‘Amazing!’ He suddenly looked animated and young, telling Kei what he had discovered. ‘Kei, she is not a child any more. She said she wanted to marry Dr Shintaro. She said she knew about him already. Can you believe it? She seems to understand what marriage means.’ Then he repeated, ‘I thought she was only a child.’

Kei laughed. She was not disquieted. She merely said, ‘Girls mature early.’

Tei-ichi felt that he was slighted by both mother and daughter. He straightened up a little. He regained his air of importance.

‘She said she had gone to the station to see Dr Shintaro. Such behaviour is not allowed. From now on, teach her manners and be strict with her. You must not let her go out on her own.’

‘Yes.’ Kei bowed a little and stopped laughing. She admitted to herself that it had been indiscreet for a young unmarried girl of a decent family to go out with her brother, without her knowledge. But in the big house that the Shirais had to manage, there were not enough maids to accompany Ayako every time she went out. Kei had to spare Shige to accompany Ayako for sewing and koto music lessons. Kei’s youngest son, Hideto, was not a year old yet. Shige’s daughter, Kiyo, would have to clean the kitchen and perhaps Kei herself would carry the baby on her back while she prepared the meals ... She could manage. It would all be worthwhile if Ayako could marry such a well-qualified man.

‘We have to prepare her to become a suitable bride for the eldest son of the Miwas,’ Tei-ichi was saying. ‘Don’t be lazy about chaperoning her. It is your responsibility.’ While he was talking to Kei, he made up his mind about his daughter’s marriage.

‘Yes,’ Kei said, looking at her folded hands on her lap.

‘There will be a lot of expenses, to be equal to the Miwas. But we must do our best not to shame ourselves. We must also think of Ayako’s position after she has married. We have to send her off properly. The boys’ education might have to be reconsidered. I hope you understand that,’ Tei-ichi told his wife solemnly.

‘Yes,’ Kei said again, but she was not as worried about money as Tei-ichi was. When the negotiations started, she would gently suggest that her husband have a frank talk with Shobei. Shobei must know the Shirais’ financial situation. If it was money he wanted, he certainly would have accepted the Abes’ daughter. He would not be as unworldly as her husband. Kei sensed that her sons’ education, on the other hand, was far more important than before. They were the family assets, not a large trousseau.

She went back to the kitchen where Shige was supervising Kiyo, who was measuring rice and washing it ready for the next day. Shige had come to the Shirais as Kei’s personal maid when she married Tei-ichi. They had grown up together.

‘O’Shige san,’ Kei called. ‘Come here a minute.’

When Shige went into the chanoma , a small back living room next to the kitchen, Kei was sitting by the hibachi , an elaborate charcoal burner. An iron kettle was always placed on it during the day and from it now came the soft noise of water evaporating.

‘Sit down for a minute.’

Kei pointed towards the other side of the hibachi. As soon as Shige sat down, Kei giggled and whispered, ‘Ayako gave dansama such a surprise.’

She remembered how her husband was flurried and lost his usual dignified air of importance.

‘He is so naive!’ She kept on laughing. Shige, too, laughed.

‘Oh, men are all very naive.’

‘They think they are cleverer than us.’

‘What happened?’ Shige’s husband was bringing in wood from outside and, hearing the laughter, poked his head into the chanoma.

‘Go away. This is women’s talk.’ Shige waved her hand to chase him away. The two women continued to chat to each other, giving vent to feelings pent up by the strain of constant obedience.

As Kei hoped, Ayako was welcomed and treated like a real daughter by Shobei and his wife. Most of her trousseau was made up of the ‘presents of welcome’ from the Miwas. This did not shame the Shirais. On the contrary, people realised that Shobei esteemed the Shirais and their respect for the Shirais increased. At the same time, they appreciated Shobei’s generosity. Shintaro loved his young and lovely wife. Ayako adored him. For her, there was no one as handsome, intelligent and kind as he was. She looked up to her husband with respect and worshipped him as though he was a god. Her obedience to him was sincere.

For ten years, there was nothing but happiness in the Miwa family. The villagers said, ‘Even the sun shines brighter over their house.’

When Ayako produced a healthy first child, even though it was a girl, there was a celebration. She was named Takeko. Then, two years later, in the first year of a new century, 1900, Haruko was born. Slight disappointment was felt at the arrival of a second daughter, but the husband was thirty-five and the wife was only nineteen.

‘We’ll have more children,’ Shintaro said to Shobei.

‘Of course you will,’ he answered.

When a third daughter was born, Shintaro, who had been telling his wife that he was not at all worried whether it would be a boy or a girl, had to walk around the garden before he went to see her to make sure he looked cheerful and pleased. The third child was called Sachiko.

It was when Ayako was pregnant for the fourth time that, one frosty morning, Shobei went to inspect his charcoal-making lodge. Wearing his padded jerkin, he bent forward and walked on hurriedly. As he came to the foot of the steep stone steps leading up to a temple, he made out a pair of women’s footwear left neatly at the bottom. He was not surprised. The temple was famous for divine favours for childless women and women without sons. They would go to the temple every day and climb up and down the steps barefoot for their wishes to be fulfilled. During the day, there were always one or two women in the vicinity who had come from far away.