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  “There’s no danger at all for me,” I lied cheerfully. “Don’t worry. It’s just that…a promise should never be given lightly. It has to be fulfilled. And I gave my word.”

  The worry died from his face and he smiled. He leaned forward and kissed my mouth. I was aroused by the simplest of contact with him and clenched my hands into fists to stop myself from grabbing for him.

  “I shall come back as soon as I can. I’ll wait until your noisy watchman has passed by and then I’ll tap on your shoji. Will you let me in?”

  I pretended to think about it, pursing my lips in a frown. “Oh, if I’m not so deeply asleep I don’t hear you, I suppose I will.”

  Yo smiled at me. He gathered up his fundoshi and knotted it quickly, pulling on his robe over the top. Every movement was so fluid, it was a joy to watch.

  “Take great care, Keiko. I promise we’ll watch the fireflies dance again as soon as I come back. And then, we’ll face the world together.”

  He walked away from me with neither another word nor a backward glance. I sat for a while longer, wondering at the ways of fate. Yesterday, I had never known a man. Today, I knew what it was to be filled with the consummate pleasure of accepting my lover into my body. My lover! I took a deep, shuddering breath at the thought. I stroked my breasts, my belly. My hand slid down to my black moss and I was sure I could feel Yo’s residue, sticky on my hair. I would have to bathe when I went home, but I really did not want to. I wanted to keep that small part of him intact until he returned to me. Nonsense, of course, but it was how I felt at that moment. I sighed and pulled my own clothes on. At the last moment, I remembered my hair was still tightly bound up, so I unpinned it quickly, bundling it back up loosely in case any of the servants saw me and wondered at the strangeness of my appearance.

  I had no need to worry. I was back in my own room before anybody else—except Matsuo, who greeted me with an anxious whine—was stirring. Reluctantly, I went to the bathhouse. There was no maid awake to rinse and soap me, so I did it myself. It was only when I slid into the steaming water that I realized that my mind might be totally relaxed, but my body was not. My muscles were knotted and tight, both from the combat and the night spent on the hard ground. I moaned aloud with pleasure as the hot water seeped into my joints. I sloshed my legs around lazily and yelped as the heat penetrated into my black moss, making my sex smart angrily.

  “Oh, Yo, what have you done to me?” I said softly. But there was no reply, not even in my own mind.

  I was climbing out of the bath when a thought stopped me with one foot lifted to the step. Yo had asked me to go with him, and I had agreed. But I had no idea where we were going. What had I committed the rest of my life to doing?

  The idea was so liberating, I threw my head back and laughed out loud. The sound of my amusement echoed around the bathhouse, bouncing off the walls and seeming to cause the water to ripple. I only realized how loudly I was laughing when one of the maids poked her head timidly around the door and gaped at me silently with astonished eyes.

  Nineteen

  Your hand reached to me

  But I did not take it. Do

  I wish that I had?

  Somebody was shaking my shoulder, quite hard. I awoke from my sleep joyfully, delighted that Yo had returned so quickly. I reached for the hand on my shoulder and grasped it with pleasure.

  “Keiko, for the gods’ sakes, wake up. I need to talk to you.”

  Not Yo at all. Emiko. I sighed my disappointment and then stretched and yawned. The sun was bright through my window. My bath had made me realize how exhausted I was and I had taken to my futon happily. And now Emiko was waking me already, after no more than perhaps a couple of hours of sleep.

  “What is it? Is the house on fire? Is it raining fish?” I said jokingly. Then my eyes focused on Emiko’s face and all desire to laugh faded. My lovely sister had been crying. True, Emiko cried often, usually when she was denied her own way. But she usually cried beautifully. She had the knack of allowing tears to trickle down her cheeks woefully while her eyes grew larger and more luminous. Even Father could never stay angry with her when she cried. But today, her eyes were rimmed with red and her mouth was screwed up as if she was in pain. “Emiko! What is it! What’s happened?”

  “I came to talk to you hours ago, but you weren’t here.” Emiko’s lips trembled. “I couldn’t believe even you had deserted me, sister. It was nearly the middle of the night and your futon hadn’t been slept in. Where were you?”

  I thought quickly and lied so easily I surprised myself.

  “I was wide awake for some reason, so I went into the garden and watched the fireflies.” That part at least was true. “I must have nodded off on the bench. When I woke up, it was nearly dawn and I went straight to the bathhouse. That’s why my futon wasn’t disturbed. But never mind that, what’s the matter? What is it?”

  “Father.” Emiko gulped on a sob.

  I stared at her in fear. “Father? What about him? Has something happened to him?” My pulse raced. Father had taken ill, perhaps even died, while I had been pleasuring myself with Yo? Common sense told me there was nothing I could have done, but my conscience screamed at me. “Emiko, what’s happened to him?”

  “Nothing,” Emiko almost shouted at me. “There’s nothing wrong with him at all. I never said there was. It’s me!”

  I almost panted with relief. It was always “me” with Emiko.

  “Calm down,” I said gently. “Explain things to me. You said it was Father. Now, you say it’s you. Tell me.”

  Emiko pouted. Her tears had made her ugly. My heart went out to her as I understood that my lovely sister had nothing apart from her beauty, and that today her beauty was gone and she had been left with nothing at all. I opened my arms and she fell against me, her head against my shoulder. I stroked her hair and made soothing noises, as if I was the elder sister. It was her acceptance of my comfort that made me understand that something was very wrong. Usually Emiko drew back from my touch as if she might be contaminated by my ugliness.

  “Tell me,” I coaxed. “What’s happened? Is Father back early? Have you had another argument with him?”

  “No. He sent me a note. Just a note, Keiko. He didn’t even bother to come home and tell me himself. I think that hurt almost as much as anything.” Her voice choked to a standstill. Bewildered, I carried on stroking her hair, waiting for her to go on. “He says I’m going to marry Soji. He saw Soji’s father yesterday, and they’ve both agreed on everything. The ceremony will take place as soon as is proper. It could be as early as next month. What am I going to do, Keiko?”

  Is that what all this fuss is about? The words trembled on my lips. Then Emiko shook with more sobs, and I chose my words carefully.

  “That’s sooner than you expected, for sure,” I said cautiously. “But you’ve been betrothed to Soji-san since you were both children. I know you’re not happy about taking him for a husband, but I thought you were resigned to it.”

  “I was. Or at least I thought so.” Emiko had had enough of my comfort. She sat away from me and rubbed her hands over her face in a gesture charmingly like a child wiping away its woes. “But that was before Reo came back.”

  She was smiling through her tears already. I spoke very slowly.

  “But Reo-san hasn’t come back, has he? He’s gone hunting with Isamu, that’s all. You’re clutching at broken reeds, Emiko.”

  “No, I’m not.” She tossed her head, her mouth sulky. “You’re just jealous that a high-caste, iki man like Reo would find me so madly attractive. Father’s not the only one who sent me a note. Reo wrote to me as well. He’s terribly upset that everything went wrong between us. He says he was horrified that he had allowed his overwhelming attraction for me overcome him to the extent that he had behaved dishonorably to me, and he has been out of his mind with worry since. He wants to meet with me privately. He says he’ll come here to see me before Isamu and Father get back.”

  Emiko preened. I itch
ed to slap her, to knock the gloating expression off her face. The sheer arrogance of the man! He intended to take me first, and then sneak back in for another go at my sister. I gave thanks that Emiko had never mentioned her hopes for him to Father. I spoke bluntly, hoping to force some sense into that lovely, empty head.

  “And what do you think he wants to see you privately for? If he had any honor at all, he would be on his knees in front of Father, begging him to allow you to become his wife. No mention of that in his note, I suppose?” Suddenly, I wondered if Emiko’s note had been written by the very same calligrapher as mine. The idea made me almost tremble with fury. “Forget him. He’s not iki at all. He’s a nasty, selfish, sneaking dasha kusai—a country bumpkin—with no more honor than a peasant sniffing around a bitch in heat because he can’t find a woman. If Isamu finds out, you won’t be marrying Soji-san, you’ll be in a monastery, and that’s if you’re lucky.”

  Emiko looked at me, her mouth dropping open. Sounds bubbled from between her lips, but no words. I was suddenly deeply sorry for my outburst. Emiko was Emiko. She had been spoiled for the whole of her life. Was it really so surprising that she thought the world was hers to command?

  “I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “That was unforgivable of me. But you can’t throw Soji-san aside for Reo. You just can’t.”

  I almost told her then that I, too, was waiting for an assignation with Reo. Surely that, if nothing else, would bring her to her senses. I looked at her pouting, trembling mouth and sighed. What was the point? If I told her the truth, she would never believe me. Knowing Emiko, she would instantly decide I was making it up because I was jealous.

  My thoughts spun madly. Father might have been willing to at least consider the union if the request had come from Reo. If Emiko dared to mention his name to Father, the first thing he would do would be to approach Reo—delicately of course—and ask him what his intentions were. And I had no doubt at all what Reo’s response would be. A man of his status would never consider marriage to a girl who was not a virgin, not even if he had been the one to deflower her outside of marriage. But of course, Emiko would never see that.

  I thought I had spoken reasonably. Emiko obviously didn’t see it that way.

  “You’re just jealous. And stupid. You’re as bad as Father,” she spat. “You don’t understand anything at all. Reo loves me. And I love him. If I can’t marry him, then I’ll go as his concubine, his number two wife. As long as I’m with him, that’s all that matters.”

  “Emiko, no! You can’t,” I said urgently. “Think of the disgrace. Soji-san would either have to kill Reo or commit suicide himself. He couldn’t live with the lack of face if you ran off to be Reo’s concubine. Just think for a minute.” I was clutching at reeds, I knew, but I had to try. “If you marry Soji, you can have the best of all worlds. You know he’s besotted with you. Marry him next month and you can take Reo as your lover if that’s what you truly want. I just know Soji would turn a blind eye to you having an affair if he thought it was making you happy. He’s truly a good man.”

  Even as I tried to coax Emiko to see sense, I knew I was shouting into an empty cave. Would any woman really want to marry a man who would give his blessing to her taking a lover? And what would it be like to be caressed by your husband when your heart and soul was with another man? I shuddered at the thought. If the object of her love had been anybody but Reo, I might have even sympathized with her. But Reo was a nauseating, shallow, sneaking snake of a man. She deserved much better.

  “You think so?” Emiko’s voice was ugly. “You really think Soji’s a nice man? I’m sure you’re right in that he wouldn’t mind me taking a lover at all. But not to make me happy.”

  “What are you talking about?” Emiko’s expression was sly, and I was puzzled.

  “Soji. You’ve always been half in love with him, haven’t you?” I shrugged. Before Yo had come into my life, I would have agreed with her. Now, Soji was nothing to me but the pleasant memory of small courtesies bestowed with a smile. Emiko frowned at me and I wondered if my thoughts showed clearly on my face. But she had never been one to notice anything that didn’t concern her and she went on quickly. “You always did think he was wonderful and that he could do no wrong. Well, it’s you that’s been wrong all along. He’s not a nice man at all. In fact, he’s not even a man.”

  “What?” I was bewildered.

  “I saw him, Keiko.” Emiko lowered her voice. “When he was here for Father’s birthday celebrations last month. I saw him and Isamu. Together. In the bath.”

  I shrugged. “So? We’ve all bathed together. Nothing wrong with that. Why shouldn’t he take a bath with Isamu?”

  “You don’t understand.” Emiko wiped her lips with the back of her hand. It looked as if she was trying to rub away a foul taste. “I thought the bath was empty. I pushed the door open and I was going to call for a maid to get me ready when I saw them. They didn’t see me, either of them. Oh, no. They were far too busy with each other for that. Soji was facing the wall, with his hands on the side of the bath. Isamu was behind him. Our brother was mounting him, Keiko.”

  “No! You must have been mistaken, Emiko.” I almost laughed at the absurdity of it.

  “No, I wasn’t.” Emiko spoke flatly, with none of her usual drama. “I was so shocked, I just stood and watched. Isamu was splitting the melon with him. He pulled back so far, his tree almost came out, and Soji begged him not to stop. ‘Harder, Isamu,’ he said. ‘Do it harder. I want to feel you inside me. Hurt me, please. Hurt me. You know I love it when you make me scream with pain.’ Neither of them noticed me. They were too busy giving each other pleasure. I snuck out and stayed away until I was sure they had left the bath. Even if Reo hadn’t come along, I promise you, I would never accept Soji as my husband after that.”

  She stared at me, her reddened eyes stony. I said nothing. I remembered Isamu calling Soji a milksop. There had been something strange in his voice when he had said it, something I had not understood at the time. Now, I wondered. Could it have been tenderness? I rather thought it had been.

  Emiko was staring at me, waiting for me to respond. I felt an unexpected flood of pity for her. Poor Emiko. I was suddenly glad that I had not told her of Reo’s interest in me—or rather, in the youth Jun.

  “Well, I can understand why that must have been difficult for you,” I said finally. “But it’s not so unusual, is it? I mean, everybody knows about the way of wakashudo. Many samurai take a younger man as their protégé, and often they become lovers. But it doesn’t stop them from marrying and having a family. I mean, you would hardly call Isamu effeminate, would you?”

  “Not Isamu, no,” Emiko said. “Although I have wondered why it’s taking him so long to get married to Himari. And you don’t need to bother telling me that a lot of men like to enjoy themselves with men and women both. I understand that. But Soji’s different. He’s never so much as touched me, you know. All these years and he’s never laid a finger on me. I thought it was respect. Now I know it was because he just doesn’t desire me. Not at all. If I wanted to arouse him, I would have to dress as a man and probably poke my sword up his behind.”

  I winced. If only Emiko knew how close she was to the truth, not just about Soji, but about Reo as well. At least—unlike Soji—Reo was also interested in women. But would my lovely, spoiled sister ever truly be willing to accept a husband who only gave her half his attention? The irony of it gave me no comfort at all.

  “I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry, Emiko,” I said awkwardly.

  “I wouldn’t mind so much about Soji if he were interested in women as well as men,” she said sadly, almost as if I had spoken my thoughts aloud. “As you say, wakashudo is an ancient and honorable tradition. Isamu obviously thinks so anyway. But I’m sure from seeing them together that it isn’t wakashudo at all with Soji. I think he’s in love with Isamu. He probably has been for years. That’s why he’s so pleased about marrying me. It’ll mean he can be closer to Isamu. Oh, it
’s such a mess. But you understand now, don’t you? You see why I can’t marry Soji? You were always the clever one, Keiko. You’ll help me find a way out of it, won’t you?”

  Emiko pawed at my arm. Her hands were perhaps the only thing about her that weren’t truly beautiful. They were rather large, and the veins on the back of them were very prominent. I stared at the hand that was clutching me and knew with a flash of pity that when she was old, and her beauty had deserted her, Emiko would have nothing. Whereas I, the ugly, despised younger sister, would still have everything that mattered. Honor. A purpose in life. And—ironically—a man who considered me his equal, no matter what ravages the years bestowed on me.

  “I will help you, Emiko,” I said quietly.

  She was immediately happy, rubbing her eyes briskly and patting at her hair.

  “I knew you would think of something,” she said cheerfully.

  I already knew the answer. But it was not something I was about to share with Emiko. Suddenly, I was looking forward to my tryst with Reo even more.

  Twenty

  You ask, how deep is

  The sea? On the beach, only

  As deep as my foot

  Isamu had commented that the Floating World was a city of the night that never knew sleep. I saw clearly that he was right when I went back there. The day was hovering on the edge of dusk when I arrived at the waterless moat and handed my mare’s bridle to the hovering groom. Although it was perhaps a little quieter than when I had first arrived, noise still spilled out through the main gate. The Floating World was alive and awake and looking forward to the evening. As no doubt it did every day. And night.