The Ninja's Daughter (21 page)

Yuji finished his opening speech, and the actor playing the priestess began to chant.

“Pure above; pure below. Pure without; pure within. Pure in eyes, ears, heart, and tongue . . .”

“I don't understand what he's saying,” Father Mateo whispered.

Hiro continued watching the stage. “It's a chant of exorcism, calling the demon out of Lady Aoi.”

“So it's a
possessed
kimono . . .”

Hiro shot the priest a disapproving look but did not reply.

The drummers beat a measured cadence as another actor stepped up onto a narrow walkway that connected to the left side of the stage. He wore a red kimono and an obi adorned with a scaled pattern, along with a mask that looked like a woman with golden teeth and eyes. He carried a fan and moved with a shuffling walk that barely raised his feet.

As the actor moved along the walkway toward the stage, he chanted,
“In the Three Coaches that travel the Road of Law, I drove out of the Burning House. Is there no way to banish the broken coach that stands at Yugao's door?

“This world is like the wheels of the little ox-cart; round and round they go, till vengeance comes . . .”

“What's happening?” Father Mateo asked. “I'm lost.”

Hiro nodded toward the actor on the walkway. “That is Botan.”

“I recognized his voice,” the Jesuit said, “but the chant doesn't make any sense.”

“It does, if you know the story. He's playing the shite's role—the lead—the angry ghost of Lady Rokujo.”

“Let me guess . . . she's the one possessing Lady Aoi.”

Hiro nodded.

“Will the words make sense later on?” the Jesuit asked.

Hiro sighed. “You have to know the story and how it's told. Lady Rokujo's vengeful spirit is sad because Genji—her lover—shunned her in favor of his wife, the Lady Aoi. Lady Rokujo's jealousy became an evil spirit that drove out Lady Aoi's soul, resulting in this illness.”

“The one the kimono is suffering.”

“I don't have to continue,” Hiro said.

“I apologize. Please, go on.”

“In the second half of the play, the family calls upon a priest, who prays to restore the soul of Lady Aoi,” Hiro said. “At that point, Lady Rokujo's jealousy takes on the form of a female ogre—the actor uses a different mask—and the ogre attacks both Lady Aoi and the priest, who then invokes the kami to ward off the ogre. In the end, the priest is victorious, and Lady Rokujo's spirit becomes a Buddha.”

Botan had reached the stage. He stood at the back, beside the drummers, as the actor playing the priestess began to chant.

“I see a fine lady I do not know, riding in a broken coach. She clutches the shafts, from which the oxen have been unyoked.

“In the second coach sits a lady who appears to be a new wife. The lady in the broken coach is weeping, weeping. A piteous sight
.”

“This is the part where they identify the demon as Lady Rokujo,” Hiro said.

“What's all the talk of coaches?” Father Mateo asked.

“Lady Rokujo intends to confront Genji at a festival, but her carriage is pushed aside and broken. The wife in the unbroken carriage is Lady Aoi.”

“How does the audience know all this?” Father Mateo asked. “It's quite confusing.”

Before Hiro could answer, Haru approached. When he reached a respectful distance, he stopped and bowed.

“Good morning,” Haru said quietly. “My father told me to watch for you and receive the coin on his behalf. He offers his apologies, but he's busy on the stage.”

“Is your father playing the priestess?” Father Mateo asked.

Haru grinned, as if he found the comment funny. “No, sir. Father sings in the chorus.”

On the stage, Botan was chanting,
“Long ago I lived in the world. I sat at flower-feasts among the clouds . . .”

“Should I give him the coin?” Father Mateo asked in Portuguese.

“No,” Hiro said in the Jesuit's language. “Let me handle the conversation. As it happens, I'd hoped to speak with the boy.”

He turned to Haru. “Is there a noodle cart in the area?”

Haru's forehead wrinkled. “Father said you were coming to leave a coin.”

“But I am hungry.” Hiro knew the child could not refuse a samurai's request. It wasn't an original trick, but it was an effective one—and he
was
hungry.

Hiro glanced at Father Mateo. The Jesuit didn't like udon, but Hiro needed an excuse to speak with the child away from the rehearsal.

Haru thought for a moment. “I saw a vendor just outside the shrine.”

“Show us,” Hiro said, “and I will buy you a bowl as well.”

“I've never eaten noodles with a samurai.” Haru led them back along the path. “Or a foreigner.”

Haru's memory proved correct. The vendor's cart sat just outside the shrine. Hiro ordered three bowls of noodles and watched the vendor ladle dark, rich broth across the piles of steaming udon. After adding a sprinkling of scallions and several slices of fish that bore the lines of a charcoal grill, the vendor handed the bowls to Hiro and the others one by one.

The savory scents of noodles, fish, and salty sauce set Hiro's mouth to watering. He led the others several steps away to eat their meal.

Haru devoured his udon with obvious relish. He finished his bowl and slurped the broth from the bottom in startling time.

For a moment, Hiro felt sorry he couldn't acknowledge they were cousins.

“Thank you for the noodles.” Haru bowed. “They're my favorite, and I don't get them often.”

“Your father mentioned the troupe had fallen on difficult times of late,” Hiro said.

Haru nodded. “Most of the samurai cancelled performances after the shogun died. We hope, when the emperor names a new shogun, the work will come back as well.”

“How does your troupe earn money when samurai do not have performances?” Hiro asked.

“I don't know.” Haru shrugged. “We were lucky Hosokawa-
sama
hired us for this one.”

CHAPTER 39

“The Hosokawa clan arranged this performance?” Hiro asked.

The words had no sooner left his lips when a voice shouted, “You! What are you doing here?”

Yoriki Hosokawa hurried toward them, scowling.

“What if he recognizes the boy?” Father Mateo whispered in Portuguese as the yoriki approached.

“He won't,” Hiro replied in kind. “Samurai rarely notice commoners' children, and the boy has not appeared on the stage.”

As he finished speaking, he realized that Haru had disappeared.

Hiro turned to Yoriki Hosokawa and raised his empty bowl. “Until a moment ago, we were eating noodles. Now, we are having a conversation—or were, until you interrupted.”

The yoriki narrowed his eyes. “You have no reason to be here. I should arrest you!”

“I believe Fushimi Inari lies outside your jurisdiction,” Hiro said. “In addition to which, we've committed no crime. I merely brought the priest for a bowl of noodles and a tour of the shrine.”

“The shrine is closed to you today,” the yoriki growled, “and tomorrow also. My father arranged a private performance here, to honor the shogun.”

“A performance?” Hiro asked. “What kind of performance?”

“None of your business,” the yoriki snapped, “but important people are coming to see it, and I don't want you anywhere near this shrine, today or tomorrow. Understand?”

“Is this not a public shrine?” Hiro asked.

“Do not provoke me, ronin.” Yoriki Hosokawa lowered his voice. “My father has been planning this event for over a month, and I will not allow you and your foreign master to ruin it. If you haven't left this place when I return, in no more than ten minutes, I will arrest you both and throw you in prison. Is that clear?”

Father Mateo bowed. “We apologize for our inconvenient presence.”

Yoriki Hosokawa looked surprised. “It seems the foreigner has learned some manners overnight.” He raised his chin. “Finish your noodles and be gone.”

He turned his back and entered the shrine.

A movement at Hiro's side announced Haru's return.

“Where did you go?” Hiro asked.

Haru nodded in the direction of the shrine. “That's Yoriki Hosokawa. He likes to yell, and he hits people too. Father told me to stay away from him.”

“Is he the man who hired your troupe to perform at the shrine tomorrow?” Hiro asked.

Haru shook his head. “No—that was his father, Hosokawa Takeshi. Grandfather introduced me to him when he came to arrange the performance. Later, I overheard Grandfather telling Father that the event was strange because the Hosokawa clan is allied with the Ashikaga. He took the job because we needed the money, but he doesn't understand why the Hosokawa would offer a public show of support for Shogun Matsunaga.”

“Indeed, that is most curious,” Hiro said. “Almost as strange as your sister, Emi, walking alone by the river at night.”

“That wasn't strange. She did it all the time.” Haru looked at Hiro. “But it was a secret—I overheard her telling Chou, the day that Chou accused her of stealing Yuji.”

“Really?” Hiro asked. “Did they argue often?”

Haru nodded. “That day was the worst. Emi called Chou an idiot. She also called Yuji a no-talent fake and said he'd never be head of the za.” Haru's expression turned earnest. “She was right about that. Grandfather already picked his successor. It isn't Yuji—it's me.”

“Does Yuji know this?” Hiro asked.

Haru shook his head. “It's still a secret. I heard Grandfather telling Father. They don't want anyone to know until I'm old enough for bigger roles.”

“Did Emi know about Botan's decision?” Hiro asked.

“I don't think so,” Haru said. “Chou didn't believe her when she said it, either.”

“When did this argument happen?”

Haru thought for a moment. “Over and over, all the time. Chou thought Emi liked Yuji, and wanted to steal him for herself. But Emi said she would never get married, especially not to an actor.”

The boy seemed pleased to have such a willing audience for his secrets.

“Why didn't Chou believe her?” Hiro asked.

“About a week ago, she said”—Haru bit his lower lip and paused, as if trying to recall the words—“she said that Emi
seduced
him by the river. What does that word mean, anyway? Father said it means talking to someone, but that's not what it sounded like to me.”

“Don't question your father.” Hiro had no intention of helping with that particular definition.

Haru bowed his head in assent.

The precious minutes had slipped away far faster than Hiro liked. “We should be going, but thank you for showing us the udon.”

He took the empty bowl from Haru and Father Mateo's full one, and returned them to the vendor.

Haru followed. “Are you afraid of that yoriki?”

Hiro turned to the boy. “I am not afraid of anyone.”

“I didn't think so.” Haru grinned. “You're not like the other samurai.”

“Are you afraid of the yoriki?” Father Mateo asked.

Haru shook his head. “I'm not afraid of anyone, either.” He bowed. “Thank you for buying me noodles.”

Hiro nodded. “You may return to your rehearsal.”

“Thank you.” Haru bowed again and ran away up the path to the shrine.

Hiro smiled. As he hoped, the boy had forgotten the coin completely.

He turned to Father Mateo. “Come on. We haven't got much time.”

As they started toward home, the Jesuit said, “I find it a strange coincidence that Emi was murdered just before her family performs for the Hosokawa clan.”

“Indeed,” Hiro said, “but, like everything else, we do not know if that is coincidental, or something more.”

“This case has far too many coincidences. Speaking of which, how did you know to ask Haru about Emi and the river?”

“Satsu told us he was always listening,” Hiro said. “Late last night, I realized the child had probably memorized more than plays.”

“We should have asked him about the samurai who threatened Botan.”

“That happened later at night,” Hiro said. “Most likely after the boy was asleep. More importantly, Haru would mention that kind of question. If we'd asked about the extortion, and Haru didn't know it happened, he would ask Satsu about it later on. As it is, if Haru mentions anything, it will be eating noodles with a samurai.”

“So the udon was a ruse.”

“I always want udon,” Hiro said, “but now, I also want to speak with Chou.”

CHAPTER 40

The elderly female servant who answered Hiro's knock invited them inside the Yutoku-za. Rhythmic chanting echoed through the house from the rooms beyond. The monks had commenced the mourning rituals for Emi's soul.

“No,” Hiro said. “We prefer to speak to her here.”

Chou arrived at the door in moments. “Good morning.” She bowed. “I apologize, but my father has left for rehearsal.”

“We came to speak with you,” Hiro said, “about Emi and Yuji.”

Chou glanced over her shoulder, stepped outside, and closed the door. “I apologize for not inviting you in, but visitors would interrupt the prayers for my sister's spirit. Would you be willing to talk at Chugenji?”

“I prefer to walk by the river.” Hiro turned west, toward Sanjō Bridge.

Chou walked alongside him, face cast down. Every few steps, she glanced at Hiro as if wishing she could ask a question.

After the third such glance, Hiro snapped, “Speak up, if you have something to say.”

“I apologize.” Chou bowed her head. “I am afraid. Has something happened to Yuji?”

“Lying to a samurai is as foolish as hitching a stallion with rotten rope,” Hiro said. “The rope will break, and the horse will turn against you.”