Risuko (11 page)

The sky had now gone completely dark outside, and candlelight flashed in Toumi's eyes, bringing to mind an unsheathed blade looking for a place to bury itself.

We laid the tables with bowls of
kimchee
and boiled soy beans, mounds of rice, and bottles of rice wine from the pantry. Kee Sun barked out orders as he loaded three huge platters with the beef, the smell of which had now worked its way into our hair and our clothes, so that we were reminded of the delicious meal we could not yet eat even when we weren't in the kitchen. Then he grabbed an unused ladle, stepped over to the back door of the kitchen, and swung the spoon at an enormous, dented gong that was hanging outside the door.

From the hall came a great cheer, as the entire company—Lady Chiyome's household plus Lieutenant Masugu's soldiers—flooded in to the dining area. The smell of the dinner had drawn them like moths to a campfire.

Kee Sun fussed with the platters, placing a bunch of watercress at the end of each, then he turned to us, gravely, and said, “If any of yeh drops yehr platter, I'll skin yeh with the dullest, rustiest knife I've got, yeh hear?”

We all three nodded and said, “
Hai
.” Emi, though, began to titter, which caused Kee Sun's fierce look to soften.

As we carefully walked through the doorway, which Kee Sun held open for us, Toumi, Emi, and I were greeted with tumultuous cheers. Many of the men and women had clearly already helped themselves to the bottles of
sake
; most of them sported ruddy cheeks.

Chiyome
-sama
was seated in the middle of the head table, Mieko on her left and the other women arranged to that side. Just next to Mieko there was an unclaimed space with a bowl and a pair of old chopsticks. I couldn't imagine that someone hadn't heard the gong; who was missing? Mieko spooned some rice neatly into the latecomer's bowl.

Masugu
-san
sat to Lady Chiyome's right, with his troops beside him. The Little Brothers and Aimaru were at the bottom of the men's table. Aimaru smiled at me as I laid my platter at his table.

He seemed to be about to say something when I heard a loud voice from the other side of the hall call out, “Look at the new novices! They're so small! No wonder they call that one
Squirrel
!” The women's table exploded with laughter.

The voice had come from one of the blue-clad girls at the end of the table furthest from Lady Chiyome.
That must be Shino and Mai, the junior initiates,
I thought. Shino had a thick nose, as if someone had flattened it with a skillet. Mai's face was sharp, every angle. I knew in a flash that Kee Sun had probably called her Foxy-girlie or something along those lines. “
Squirrel
,” chuckled Mai again, and Shino snorted.

Fuyudori, our white-haired senior, was smiling, but coldly, I thought—disapprovingly.

Masugu
-san
's voice rang out. “Murasaki
-san
is small, it's true. But the smallest squirrel will fight fiercely when provoked.” He smiled across to the younger women. “I would think that the women of the Full Moon would know that to be true if anyone did.”

Mai and Shino looked as though they had been slapped.

Mieko spoke, her voice low and pleasant, but her eyes flashing as she poured wine for Lady Chiyome—and for the missing guest. “It is most gratifying to learn that the men who visit the Full Moon have learned that lesson, too.” She looked down toward where I was standing, but it was not to me that she was speaking.

“Ha!” laughed Lady Chiyome as she picked up a piece of meat with her chopsticks. “I said it would be entertaining having the two of them here!”

The older women, those dressed as
miko
, roared with laughter. Mieko smiled primly, while Masugu turned bright red.

I gave Aimaru a small wave and then sprinted back to kitchen with three empty rice wine bottles.

When I came back, Toumi had already resupplied the men's table, so I brought the
sake
to the women.

“Bring that here, Risuko!” called the youngest of the initiates. “Having fun serving at the tables?” she said, bright red circles marking her cheeks.

“You would know, Mai,” said Fuyudori, “since you were serving here yourself at lunch.”

Next to the white-haired girl, two of the older women chuckled.

“Least
I'm
not ‘fraid of soldiers,” slurred Shino.

Fuyudori's face blanched, until it was almost as white as her hair. “I am not afraid. But I have cause to be cautious.” I thought of the story of how her hair had turned white—the attack on her village. “Do not we all?”

“Do not we all?”
mimicked Mai. Shino snorted.

“Are those peas?” Fuyudori asked me, turning away from the two drunk girls.

“Uh. No.”

She raised an eyebrow. “No, Risuko
-chan
?”

“No, no, thank you, uh, Fuyudori
-senpai
.” A bead of sweat dripped into my mouth. “They're soy beans.”

“Oh.” Fuyudori's smile remained, but she looked a bit embarrassed, and I hate to say that her discomfort made me feel better.

I took an empty bowl from that end of the table and brought it back to refill it with
kimchee
.

As the meal went on and we brought out more and more
sake
, Lady Chiyome's band of women, her
kunoichi
, began teasing the soldiers across the way. I had seen some of the women in our village do that sort of thing, and the soldiers had teased right back, answering one rude joke with another.

Here, however, the men seemed almost too terrified to answer. And the quieter Masugu
-san
's troops became, the rowdier the women got. As the meal finally wound down, the women began to make the sorts of indecent comments that would have gotten any Imagawa soldier slapped in our village. But these men took the comic abuse in silence.

As I began cleaning up at the men's table, I leaned over to Aimaru. “How are you doing?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Better now. I was hungry. But... oh, you haven't eaten yet, have you?”

I shook my head. Only the raucous conversation had kept my stomach's rumblings from being heard all over the hall through most of the meal.

“It's hard not being able to talk to anyone,” he said. “It's not so different, here, from life at the temple, but even there I had friends I could talk to sometimes.”

I smiled. “It's only until we become initiates.”

“How do you do that?”

“No idea.”

“Well,” he said, grinning back, “let's make sure that happens soon.”

As Emi, Toumi and I began to clear away the last of the empty platters, a deep bell rang from the back of the hall. All of the noise faded, like flames under rain.

The larger of the Little Brothers stood in front of the shrine. He had closed the doors and sealed them with a twist of white paper.

Mieko picked up the chopsticks at the empty spot beside her and thrust them into the bowl of rice, sticking straight up.

It was as if the whole building held its breath.

“Seven days ago,” said Lady Chiyome, her voice just above a growl, “we lost one of our number. One of the
first
of our number. She fought bravely, and she fought well; it was all that she would have wished.”

Some of the women grunted. A number looked as if they might be holding back tears. A few—Mieko among them—failed. The soldiers still looked uncomfortable, but they shared the solemn silence.

“Remember her,” said Chiyome
-
sama
, and I was shocked to hear her voice catch. “Remember her, and strive to honor the red and white robes that she wore so well.”

The banquet ended then, as all of the Full Moon's guests and inhabitants left the hall, grave and quiet.

I
was certain that Kee Sun wouldn't let us eat until after all of the cleaning was done. But as we brought the last of the dishes in from the hall, we found the cook smiling and gesturing to the small feast that he had laid out for us on the low cutting table: grilled beef,
kimchee
, soy beans, rice—even
sake
—was set out just as it had been for the banquet.

“Magnificent!” crowed Kee Sun. “Perfect! Not a drop spilled, and everything served hot! The three of you girlies made the last two look like the clowns that they are.”

We sat, and that was almost as glorious as the tempting smells wafting up from the table. We picked up our chopsticks and started serving ourselves. Emi picked up a handful of edamame and began shelling the soy beans directly into her mouth. I had the beef right in front of me, and so I slid the succulent-looking meat into my bowl along with a serving of rice.

Toumi, who had been denied the
kimchee
earlier in the evening, grabbed a huge clump of the pickled cabbage with her chopsticks and plopped it into her bowl.

As I began to lift my first bite of beef to my mouth, I saw Kee Sun start to say something, then turn away with a smirk on his face.

The beef was unlike anything I'd ever tasted—tender, juicy, sweet and peppery. It was the best food I'd ever had. Just as I was swallowing that first bite and reaching for the next, Toumi sputtered loudly,
kimchee
flying out of her mouth. She let out a howl, and grabbed for the
sake
.

Before she could drink it, however, Kee Sun handed her a huge cup of water, which she drained in heavy, rapid gulps. “What are you trying to do,
kill us?”
she gasped.

Kee Sun smirked. “Well, you wanted it so much before dinner, I thought yeh knew it was spicy.”

“Spicy!”
yelled Toumi. “That's pickled fire!”

The scar on Kee Sun's face stretched and twisted as he rocked his head back and laughed. “Better get used to it, Falcon-girlie,” he said, shoveling rice into Toumi's bowl. “'Cause the Old Lady loves my food, and the people here seem to also. Yeh Japanese and yehr food—yeh like everything sweet or as tasteless as the washing water.” Toumi was still panting, as if trying to blow out a flame inside her mouth. “Balance! Everything in balance, yeh hear? Eat the rice, Falcon-girl—it will take away the fire,” Kee Sun said.

“Mind,” he added, “I think yeh're goin' t'need to stay away from hot foods anyway. Yeh got too much heat in yeh. Anybody could see that.” He scratched his beard. “I think we're goin' to feed yeh up with some nice, cooling
yin
food.”

Toumi gawked at him as if he were speaking in gibberish—which, in fairness, he was. Then she gave a disgusted snort, and began shoveling rice into her mouth.

The rest of the meal passed, uneventful and delicious. Emi and I even tried a little bit of the
kimchee
, which was very tasty and not really too hot to eat, especially if you knew what you were about to put into your mouth. It took Toumi a little while to get over her shock and discomfort and to trust the rest of the food, but hunger won out, and soon all three of us were groaning with contentment.

Kee Sun poured some of the rice wine into little
sake
cups and mixed ours with water. Then he poured a large mug-full for himself—undiluted of course. “Don't think I'm going to be able to feed you like this every night,” he said. “But you certainly earned it.” Then he lifted his mug. “
Wihayeo
,” he said in Korean. “Cheers!”

We toasted him in response, sipping at our sweet wine, and feeling the warmth of it, so different from the heat of the spicy
kimchee
, spreading through our stomachs.

Even Emi was smiling as we finished cleaning the kitchen.

The night was clear, cold and bright. Shivering, we stumbled back to our room. An almost full moon was directly overhead, surrounded by a glowing circle of light. In the mountains, you can see so many more stars, and they are so bright that you feel as though you could climb right up the stars of the River of Heaven like a ladder.

As we went into the building, Fuyudori was sitting cross-legged on her bed, brushing her white hair. “You have done very well, for the first day,” she said, with her sweet, mocking smile. “After you have gone and bathed, you should sleep. I will do my best to make sure that you are ready for helping Kee Sun serve breakfast.”

We all groaned.

Her smile broadened. “Do not worry. Once you have finished your morning kitchen duty, you get to take a music lesson in the Tea House with Sachi
-san
.”

“A music lesson?” asked Toumi.

“With Sachi
-san
?” I said. She was, I gathered, one of the older women. The
kunoichi
.

“Yes, Risuko
-chan
. With Sachi
-sensei
. Since she will be acting as your teacher, she should be addressed as such.”

“But I would have thought Mieko...”

Fuyudori got her playful smile, the one that always let me know I wasn't going to get a straight answer. “Mieko
-san
has other subjects to teach. But none that you will need just at the moment. Nor would you would want a music lesson from Mieko
-sensei
, I think. Shino, Mai, and I will be joining you for the lesson. Won't that be lovely?”

The three of us looked at each other. It was clear that the other girls felt as I did: a music lesson didn't sound lovely at all—and the idea of having the three older girls join didn't make it any more appealing.

Fuyudori nodded, as if we had agreed with her. “Now off to the bathhouse with you,” she ordered, and we shuffled silently next door. It was my favorite building at the Full Moon, so far—as big as our sleeping quarters, but bare inside except for the two large tubs. The smell of damp wood filled the air like steam.