A Woman of Edo Ch. 03

I will tell you now how my abductor taught to me the Breathing Meditation.

Kano decided that it was no longer safe to remain in the cave. Perhaps he suspected that the old monk would raise the alarm. He carefully packed his few belongings onto a folded sheet, then hoisted it onto his back.

“We will go now on foot from this place. Do not try to run away from me, but walk before me.”

“If I walk before you, people will take you for my servant.”

“No, they will take me for a blind man and you for my guide.” He rolled his eyes upwards until only the white showed.

“But why do we have to walk? Where is your donkey and cart?”

“They were stolen. I mean I stole them. But they are now returned to their owner.”

“You are only half a thief, then.”

“No, I am twice a thief, for I stole first from the owner, and then from the donkey.”

“From the donkey? What was there to steal from the donkey?”

“In returning her to her owner I thereby stole her freedom.”

Only now, now when it is too late, do I understand why he smiled wryly as he said it. He knew. He knew what would befall.

And so we walked through the countryside, seemingly without goal or purpose, even as Basho wanders the land.

I was no hinin, though in my rags I doubtless appeared as one; I was unaccustomed to walking, and my feet and legs soon tired.

The sun burned hot, and the air shimmered above the cracked earth. I felt as though I could go no further. I stopped and turned to Kano to tell him that I must rest, but I saw him bent under the heavy pack he had borne all the while uncomplaining, and in shame I turned and continued.

At last, in the late afternoon, we came upon a little house of wood, within sight of a small hamlet. There were hemp fields all about, and a few men were out harvesting. We had been walking beside a little river for some miles, which had afforded us drink, and which now bent away from us into a copse of cedar trees behind the house.

Kano went up to the house and peered in through the gaps in the wooden slats of the door. He called to me, “We will stop here.”

He opened the door, which was not locked.

Inside was a single room, with no screen. But it had a bed of matting, and a table for preparing food. To me it seemed a palace after the cave.

I sat on the floor and rubbed my feet wearily. But Kano pulled me up.

“Come with me.”

Behind the house ran the river. It flowed swift and clear.

“Bathe in there, the water flows from the Sacred Mountain [Fuji] and will revive you.”

I stripped naked before him, shyly, for I had never shown my body alone before a man before. But he merely sat near the bank and plucked at blades of grass.

I turned from him and watched the river sparkling and dancing before me. I wondered whether he was watching me, noticing the pretty dimples in my backside. Then I felt reviled, for I realized that he no doubt observed on me the bruises that Jordaens had wrought. I stepped towards the bank of the river. I wiped tears from my eyes and stared down at the pebbles beneath the surface.

He called to me. “Hey!”

I turned.

He paused, and seemed momentarily confused. With a thrill I realised that it was the sight of my body that had caused him to forget his words.

“Well?”

“Be careful. The water flows quickly.”

I laughed. “Do you think I cannot swim?” I raised my arms in a great circle, showing off my sweet breasts.

“Will you not bathe also, Master Kano?”

“I will bathe, but not while you do.”

“Why not? Always the men and women bathe together in the public baths at Edo. And the children.”

“But I am not from Edo.”

“Then you can watch me, for I am a woman of Edo, and we love the water more than does the salmon.” I ran into the water, and screamed, laughed, choked, laughed and screamed again. The icy water rushed over me and brought me to life so that I felt I could run a hundred miles and leap mountains.

After a few minutes I began to feel cold, and splashed to shore. I jumped and skipped to warm myself, shivering in the hot sun. Kano lay back, his head resting on his clasped hands, and watched the empty sky.

I teased him. “You may bathe safely now, Master Kano. I have finished.”

Silently, he rose. He removed his sash. He stretched and removed his jacket over his head. His brown chest glistened as though it had been oiled.

He stepped out of his sandals and approached the river bank.

“Will you bathe in your pants?”

“The river will wash the dirt from them.”

“Master Kano, I will wash them for you. There are flat washing-stones nearby.”

He shrugged, and stepped out of his pants.

“Wash my loin-cloth too, then.”

He threw his loin-cloth to me, and dived into the water with the speed of a kingfisher.

I watched the ripples, playing a game with myself, guessing where he would resurface, as I used to do with the ducks in our pond.

But he did not resurface. My anxiety grew as I searched the river for him. The glare made it impossible to see below the surface. My heart beating, I dived in, and under the water, I opened my eyes.

He was directly below me, gliding like a pike near the stones at the bottom of the river.

He looked up at me. A little bubble of air escaped his nostrils and fluttered up toward me.

I watched him; his body was pale against the green riverbed. Then I became short of air and had to break the surface, gasping.

There was a splash of water beside me as he finally came up. He swam back to shore and lay down on the grass, his arms and legs spread wide to catch the sun.

I followed him. But I dared not lay nor even sit near him. I stood some distance from him. His body was so unlike that of Jordaens. His manhood, shrunk by the cold, looked like a little brown mouse. No memory of my horror assailed me as I surveyed his lithe and graceful form.

“How is it that you can hold your breath for so long? Is it more magic?”

Kano smiled without looking at me. “Yes, it is magic. It’s called Suizen.”

“Can you teach me?”

Kano sat up. Again, I saw he was taken aback by the sight of me. But now I felt no shame. The waters of Fuji had cleansed me.

I asked him again if he could teach me, but he did not answer me, but said, “Your hair is long, Akiko.”

I took a step nearer, and lowered my eyes.

“I can teach you. But first you must learn how to breathe.”

I laughed. “People do not need to be taught to breathe. In, out... in, out...”

“You know nothing of breathing. What is the first breath a baby takes when it is born? And what is the last breath we take, when we leave our mortal body?”

“I don’t know, for I have witnessed neither birth nor death.”

“I have witnessed both. The first breath we take is a scream as we expel the waters of the womb. And the last is a gasp as we fill the vacuum created as our spirit leaves our body. Our breathing is not ‘in, out’, but ‘out, in’”.

“But it is the same thing.”

“Come here.” At his word I went to him, unthinking, as a ripe apple is drawn to the earth.

“Watch.” He pointed to his chest. I watched it rise and fall as he breathed. I could see between his ribs, a tiny pulsing of his heartbeat. I saw then his abdomen rise and fall in the in rhythm of his breath, but in the opposite wise. And then it seemed to me as though his body was a sea, and a gentle wave rolled over it. I found myself breathing in time to the wave.

My head felt light. And inside me, the fire burned, and I desired him. My breath came quicker, and hot tears welled in my eyes. Shame, desire and despair mingled within me, and the fire stirred them all to a poisonous brew. I gasped and choked. I could not breathe. I tried to scream, but felt once more the loathsome Jordaens filling my mouth so I could not. I beheld a waking terror, more real than any dream, wherein I was burned alive in a house, and choked from the smoke.

Then I perceived that it was Kano’s hand over my mouth and nose that stopped my breath. I struggled against him, but he held me firmly from behind. In vain I tried to bite. Only when I slowed, and prepared to die, did he release his hand. I drew a frantic breath, and again he clamped his hand over me, and held it there. Again and again he removed his hand for an instant, and no sooner had I taken a single breath, when he held his hand over me.

After a minute, when my panic was less, he allowed me more time to catch my breath. Eventually I was calm. He released me, and lowered me gently to the ground.

“You see, “ he said. “It is not so easy to breathe.”

I lay on my side, my head on my arm. Once more I wept.

He lay down beside me. I crawled over to him and rested my head on his chest. I fell asleep to the sound of his beating heart.

I will tell you how I engulfed my lover in flames, and was rescued.

I awoke feeling the warmth of fire on my face. I sat up, dismayed, confused, perceiving myself to be in danger of being swallowed by flames.

But the fire was merely a small stove on which Kano brewed tea. We were in the house, and I lay on the mat. It had grown dark outside, but the air was still warm.

I must have slept deep, for I felt rested and at ease.

I yawned and stretched out on the mat. I played with its frayed edge. “I like it here.”

“This is your last night here.”

“What, are we to move on so soon?”

“No. Tomorrow you will return to Edo. To your home.”

“I cannot. I cannot. What will become of me?”

“I know neither your future, nor can I alter your past. But I tell you this: Tomorrow you will return to Edo. Your father is coming for you.”

“Supposing I wish it not?”

“You would go against your father’s will?” Kano looked keenly at me, as though great import were attached to his question.

“I would, if- if you commanded it.” I shuddered as I said it, bracing myself for his rejection.

He was silent in thought a good while, and the while my heart beat not once.

At last he sighed and spoke. “I will decide in the morning. But if you do not go with your father, what then would you do?”

I could not speak. I ran to him and clasped my arms around his head, and wept tears on his neck. He stroked my hair as I kissed his shoulders, his smooth chest. He cupped my face in his hands and pressed his lips to mine.

He crawled to the mat and sat down. He pulled a mischievous face and beckoned me to sit by him. Laughing with joy and surprise, I scrambled over to him. Like puppies we became, rolling and laughing, licking and nibbling at each other.

He rolled atop me and paused. We breathed quickly and in rhythm, our chests pressed together. His strong, smooth thigh squeezed between mine, and he bent his knee, opening me up.

I let out a cry, a deep shout that never had I uttered before when he entered me. We became one. Our breathing became a rising wave, overwhelming in its power, that we rode together. I arched my back and tore at the matting with my nails. I dug into his hard backside, which squeezed and pulsed, faster and ever stronger, thrusting him deeper into me.

Then the fire in me leapt into a blinding sun, and I knew no longer what I did. I became wild and deranged with lust. I bit his lip, savouring his blood. I slashed and gouged at his back, the backs of his thighs. He roared like a tiger, deep and terrifying, and I felt myself explode.

He rolled over, laughing, his body twitching. I sat up trembling, holding my knees.

“Why do you laugh?” I asked, although I could not help but to join in his laughter.

“I don’t know. I also feel like weeping. Would you prefer it if I wept?”

“At the summit of the mountain, two roads meet.”

He smiled. “Now you become the teacher. I don’t understand what that means.”

“It’s just something I’ve long known. Joy and sadness meet at the top of a mountain. Do you not see it as I do?”

But he answered me not, for he slept.

I did not wish to sleep. I went out from the house, and walked under the moon until the sky began to pale with the dawn.

I returned to the house, and saw from within a red glow. I wondered at this, and went up to the door. But as I did, there was an awful crash, and the roof collapsed. Black smoke billowed out towards me, and huge flames flickered into the sky.

I ran to the door and opened it. Immediately the heat became intense. I could see Kano silhouetted black in the flames, scrambling to pick up his pack. He bolted towards me, then grabbed my arm and pulled me hurriedly from the house, as the walls collapsed and red sparks and glowing cinders surrounded us.

Kano sat on the ground. He was badly burned. I feared for his life. His pack was charred, and had burst open, scattering his few possessions with a clatter. Something rolled down the hill to the path below. I ran to get it for him, but suddenly he called for me to stop. I stopped, and I heard the sound of horses hooves. It could only be Samurai, I thought; for nobody here could afford to own a horse.

Three mounted men appeared on the path. They slowed to a stop when they saw me, and I became aware that I was naked. I turned to run from them but one man shouted to me.

“Akiko, wait!”

It was my father.

He dismounted. He pulled a kimono from his saddle pack and threw it to me.

“Get dressed. Where is Ko? Where is the one who took you?”

“I know not.”

“Here.” Kano descended the slope. He stumbled and fell, raised himself up slowly, and continued. I ran to help him, in spite of my father’s orders to stay by his side.

“You are Master Ko?” said my father. “You look unlike him.”

“I am the one you called Ko. And I have fulfilled my task.”

“Have you indeed? And where is the proof?”

“It lies at your feet.”

My father looked about him, and saw that which had rolled from Kano’s pack. It was a human head. It was the head of Jordaens. My father picked it up by the hair and observed it closely.

“I see that it is so. But why did you take from me my daughter, whom I love more than my own life?”

“Because I know of you, Riu Hideoshi. I know you would not pay unless your life or your daughter’s life depended on it. And so, I took from you your daughter as security. Would you travel here, with fifty ryu in your saddle bags if it were not for her?”

“But you look fit to die. Fifty ryu is a wasted extravagance for a coffin. Especially for a thief and a hinin.”

“I have lived a poor man’s life. Why should I not then be allowed to die a rich man’s death?”

“I have no time for this.” He turned to his men. “Kill him.”

The men dismounted, and drew their swords. I ran to save him, but my father held me. Kano uttered not a sound as they pierced him through his heart.

My father went to his saddle bag and pulled out two coins. He dropped them on the ground by Kano’s body. He spat.

“That is a fitting payment for a man who dares to defile my daughter.”

I will now conclude my tale.

Thereafter, I was brought back to my house and remained there under the care of my maidservants. My father wept long when he heard my tale, but showed no remorse for his killing of my beloved Kano.

He told me of Kano, and how my father employed him to assassinate Jordaens. Kano had been already been hired by Jordaens to murder my father on the road to the Edo palace. But when he saw that my father was well guarded at all times by his henchmen, he made an offer to my father that he should turn the tables and do away with Jordaens instead.

He had previously arranged to meet Jordaens in a distant cave once my father had been killed, where Jordaens would pay him off. Jordaens had arrived with no payment, intending to kill Kano. But Jordaens had found me there when he arrived. My father did not say it, but I knew what he was thinking: I had been deliberately left in the cave for Jordaens to find me.

It soon became known to all what had befallen me, and I was therefore no longer fit to be given in marriage, not even to the lowliest tanner. I resolved therefore to take my life and spare my father his humiliation.

But this was not my fate, for on the very day I had chosen to end my life, my father had a visit from a monk; the same one who we had encountered at the cave.

He spoke long with my father, who afterwards bade me go with the monk to where he would lead me.

We went on foot into Edo, into Yoshiwara, the Pleasure Quarter, wherein lived the painted prostitutes. They ranged from the most cultured daughters of Daimyo, skilled in music and painting, to the unmarried mothers of the lowest stock.

I was introduced to the proprietor, one Mrs Tadasuke, as “a Go player of the 9th dan, who goes by the name of Chilli Fire, on account of her warm and pleasant countenance.”

After a few minutes of discourse, Mrs Tadasuke smiled a toothless smile and told me that she would expect no more of me than to “play some of the gentlemen visitors at Go, and be sure to always let them win, but not by much.”

That concludes my story.

The man bowed to Chilli Fire and thanked her for her tale. As he stood to go, he asked her if it was true that she had been told always to let the man win.

She bowed, smiled, but said nothing.

END

Historical Background

This story is set in the Edo period in Japan, in the year 1680 in the western calendar.

At that time, the Tokugawa shogunate ruled from Edo castle in what is now Tokyo, supported by its army of Samurai.

Society was then highly stratified into four classes: warriors, farmers, artisans, and merchants. The merchants, although strictly speaking the lowest class, effectively rose in status throughout the century, due to their increasing wealth, although class intermarriage and mobility remained out of the question.

Below these classes were a mass of “outcasts”, including those whose livelihood included the slaughter of animals. Migrant actors, conjurors and casual labourers fell into the lowest stratum of this class, the hinin.

In 1638, the Edo Bafuku had quashed a bloody uprising of peasants, known as the Shimabara Rebellion. The rulers had blamed Christianity, which had many converts among the peasants. And so they decided to seal off Japan’s commercial barriers to all but a few Westerners, notably the Dutch.

After Shimabara Rebellion the surviving rebels retreated to the countryside, where they were hunted for many years by the police.

To help prevent further insurgence, the Shogun restricted travel in the land, to everyone.
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But he granted an exception to the monks of the Fuke Buddhist sect. These monks, known as the “empty-headed” monks or komuso had petitioned him, telling him that their livelihood as itinerant beggars and musicians depended on their ability to roam the country.

The Fuke monks were a strange lot; while they gave their lives to contemplation and calm reflection, their teaching methods were unorthodox and often violent; many believed that shock and sudden pain could bring enlightenment.

The monks practiced a form of breathing meditation called Suizen. They applied this to their songs, which they developed to an supreme level of intricacy and complexity.

These “breathing songs” which they called honkyoku, were not sung: They were played on a bamboo flute; the Shakuhachi.

The game of Go is played today by millions of people. Its rules are simple enough for a child to learn, yet it is greater in complexity than chess. It is a game of territory, played on a nineteen by nineteen grid painted onto a small table of wood, the Go Ban. Players alternate playing black and white stones on this board. From traditional warfare to modern business, Go analogies and strategies permeate Japanese society.