Risuko (13 page)

Toumi reached out to grab one of the knives by the back of the blade.

“Don't yeh ever let me see yeh treat a good blade that way!” barked Kee Sun. He plucked the knife from Toumi's fingers and flourished the blade across a bamboo beam from which some herbs were drying. At first, the bamboo seemed unscarred, but suddenly it collapsed, neatly cut in two, spilling the herbs onto the table. “Yeh treat a knife with respect, yeh hear me?” He handed the knife back to a properly stunned Toumi, handle first.

Chastened, Emi and I carefully picked up our knives by the handles.

It wasn't until much later that I wondered: if he had wanted us to take the blades by the handles in the first place, why had he put them down in front of us tip-first?

He then showed us—much as Mother had done, much as I had tried to do with Usako—how to rock the blade across what you're trying to cut, using your other hand to control the food, careful to keep your fingers away from the blade. Soon, we were slicing away as he prepared the rest of the mid-day meal, occasionally giving us pointers on keeping the size uniform, on keeping from tiring too quickly.

It was soon obvious that Toumi was desperate that her pile be the largest of the three. I knew I could cut faster than she could, but, since I didn't want her angry with me, I quietly shunted every third or fourth bunch of sliced beans into Emi's pile, since she was working methodically, obviously concerned to have the sharp blade so close to her fingers.

Every once in a while, we heard a dull thud or bang coming through the grate near the ceiling, which opened to the great hall. With the sharp blades in our hands, however, even these odd noises seemed less urgent than paying attention to what we were doing.

When the long beans were finally gone, Kee Sun sauntered over from where he had been preparing a huge pot of chicken stock. “Everyone got yehr fingers?” he asked. We all held out our hands. “Hmmm. No blood, no sliced nails? I think I'll keep yeh all in the kitchen for quite a while!” He appraised the three piles. “Well done, Smiley! Yeh were working quickly!” When Emi and Toumi stared down at the piles, both perplexed that Emi's pile should be larger than Toumi's, Kee Sun winked at me.

—

At lunch that day, Mieko once again set out a bowl of rice beside her, and once again, plunged Kuniko's chopsticks into them. She would continue to do this for the next seven weeks. It quickly became less eerie, more normal, which, as I think back on it now, is the whole point: repeating the ritual so that the person's death seems real. Natural.

After, we were sent to clean out the baths. Mai and Shino taught us about draining them, rinsing them, and refilling them from the huge cistern where all of the compound's water was stored. Shino told us—or rather, she told Toumi, since neither she nor Mai seemed at all interested in talking to me or to Emi—that the reservoir was filled by a spring, which was why the Full Moon had been built where it was, since even if the manor were surrounded, the defenders would never run out of water.

Once the baths were refilled, we lit a fire under the hot tub so that it would be ready for use that evening.

—

Our days quickly fell in to a pattern. Every morning we had breakfast duty, followed by a lesson of some sort—singing, dancing, playing instruments. Very few dealt directly with rituals. I assumed those would be taught to us when we had earned the initiate's red-and-white sash.

The lessons were always led by one or more of the older women, who came and went often enough that we barely got to know their names. I do remember one named Mitsuki whose voice sounded like the scurrying of a mouse through dry leaves, leading us through an unbelievably boring morning learning how to walk in a lady-like fashion.

One of the oddest and most frustrating exercises was carrying rocks. Each of us was given a waist-high pile of stones that we were to carry from one side of the courtyard to the other. The cold stones would leave our fingers raw and bloody. The next day, we would carry the stones back — in sun, rain, or snow.

Not surprisingly, I was always the last to finish.

We were almost always accompanied at these lessons by Mai and Shino— whom Emi had taken to calling the Horseradish Sisters—and by Fuyudori. The white-haired girl's gentle encouragement often seemed crueler than the other two girls' open derision.

Soon, the Horseradishes began taking Toumi under their wings, whispering to her whenever we were together. They always had something nasty to whisper to Toumi just when the teacher was occupied elsewhere. Once, while we were working on music, Sachi and Fuyudori were both trying to teach Emi how to arch her hands properly, and Shino, who was just behind me, whispered that Emi was more stupid than the flute, and perhaps it should try to play her. Toumi snickered, and so did Mai. But when Sachi turned to see what was so funny, they went right back to their playing.

Mai seemed to accept Toumi reluctantly, so long as she kept her place, and so long as Toumi was willing to make fun of me and Emi. In this, Toumi needed no encouragement.

Frequently, one or two of the older women would join us in our studies, though I think it was more to gauge just what dunces the three of us were than actually to work on their own skills, which were considerable.

Mieko never appeared at these sessions, however. During this time, I rarely saw her. Often, at dinner, I caught her and Lieutenant Masugu both following me with their eyes. Once they spotted each other, however, they spent the rest of the meal focusing on the bowls before them.

After morning lessons, we helped with the mid-day meal, cleaned and refilled the baths, and helped with the evening meal. Then off to the baths, off to bed... and ready to start all over again the next morning.

T
he routine was almost reassuring: lessons, work, Toumi growling—all of it flowed from one day to the next like a line of ducks swimming up-river. Even the rock-carrying became routine. Occasionally, one or two figures in
miko
's robes wandered in through the front gate; just as often, one or more of the women would leave after the morning meal. Yet the little community remained very much the same.

The odd sounds from the great hall were different every day, and always infuriatingly fascinating: sometimes grunts, sometimes shouting, and once what sounded like breaking wood. But we weren't allowed to look, and so this too became part of the pattern.

One day, when the great hall was unusually silent, we were sorting dried mushrooms by color. Kee Sun was very particular about the mix of colors and flavors in all of the food that we prepared. Once we were well into the boring work, he informed us that he had to “go visit the King,” a phrase we never understood, and never wanted to. However, we knew that he would be gone some time. When he had gone, Emi's sharp elbow bounced against my ribs.

“Ow!”

Without looking up, she elbowed me again.

“What?”

She sighed. I looked around. Toumi was pointing up to the grate near the ceiling.

Oh!
I mouthed. I didn't need to be told what to do. Springing up into the rafters from which herbs and pots hung, I tiptoed along the beam that came into the wall right below the ventilation grate. I felt exhilaration, not at doing something we weren't supposed to do, but just to be up above the ground for the first time since we arrived at the Full Moon.

As I approached the grate, I ducked down so that I wouldn't be seen.

A low murmur of voices echoed from the great hall. I carefully raised my head so that I could just see into the big room.

The tables were pushed back. A battered suit of armor was propped up against the men's table. In front of it, the women were standing in a circle around Mieko, who seemed to be...

She was taking out hairpins. At least, that's what it looked like. She held the two objects, which appeared to be short, flat chopsticks, and then inserted them back into the neat bun on the back of her head. The other women took out their own hairpins and copied her.

Perplexed, I made my way back down to the kitchen. Something about what Mieko had been showing the others looked familiar, but I couldn't think what.

“Well?” Emi and Toumi both asked as soon as my feet hit the stone floor.

I told them what I'd seen.

“That's boring,” said Emi, her everlasting frown deepening. Toumi and I both nodded, and had just gotten back to sorting our mushrooms when Kee Sun returned. “Isn't this fun!” he chuckled.

We didn't bother nodding at him, but settled back into the pattern of our day.

—

A few weeks after we arrived at the Full Moon, however, the routine suddenly broke.

One morning, we prepared breakfast as usual, but when we brought the meal in to the great hall, there were just nine
kunoichi
at the table along with Lady Chiyome and the men. Four of the older women were missing, as were all three initiates. When I returned, perplexed, to the kitchen with the left over food, Kee Sun scowled at me. “Did yeh spit in my good food, Bright-eyes?”

“No!” I said, staring down at the half-full bowls. Toumi sniggered as she scrubbed the rice-pot clean, preparing it for the mid-day meal.

Emi came in behind me, frowning even more deeply than usual. Her bowls were just as full as mine. “Why would they all leave without eating?” she asked.

“Leave?” Kee Sun said, scratching at his neck.

“Well,” Emi said, “Fuyudori and the other initiates weren't at breakfast, and some of the other women were gone. Why would they have gone... doing... whatever they do, without eating?”

Kee Sun scowled at her, and back at me. Then he did something I'd never seen him do: his ears, his cheeks, his forehead and the neck below his beard turned a bright, cherry red. He swore in what I assumed was Korean, his voice higher than usual, and stabbed his knife into the table. “Should have known! Yeh lot comin' threw me off so's I lost count!”

Emi and I exchanged a look; even Toumi was looking as if Kee Sun had suddenly sprouted horns and a furry tail.

Seeing us all looking confused, Kee Sun cleared his throat and growled. “Well, don't just stand there letting the food get cold!” He thrust a scarred finger toward the door. “Bring it to the Retreat, d'yeh hear? Bright-eyes, Smiley—now! Get!”

I remembered the building, of course, but I couldn't understand what he meant—that building was always empty. “The...?”

Leaving his knife wobbling in the wood, he reached up and grabbed lids for the bowls that we were carrying. “GET!”

We took the lids, we slammed them on the bowls, and we got. As we scooted past the well, Emi suddenly slammed to a stop. “Oh!”

I turned and looked at her. “What?”

“The Retreat!” She stared back at me, eyes owl-wide. “It's where the women go during their moon time!”

“Moon...? Oh!” We both looked back down at the bowls in our hands. “Oh.”

We started to walk toward the rear corner of the compound, back behind the huge hemlock tree, when Emi halted again.

“What?” I whispered.

“All at once?”

I stared at her.

“Well, I mean,” Emi sputtered, “would they all have, you know, started their... time, at the same... time?”

I shrugged at Emi, she shrugged back at me, and we continued on our way—not quite as quickly now.

When we approached the Retreat, I noticed that there was smoke curling from the covered chimney. I put my serving bowl down on the threshold and knocked.

“What?” snapped a sharp voice from inside.

“F-food,” stammered Emi.

“Leave it,” answered another voice. This was a voice that I'd always heard pitched low and kindly; Mieko's voice didn't sound particularly kindly now. “Leave it on the stoop.”

“Yes,” Emi and I said. She lay her bowls beside mine, and we scooted quickly back to the kitchen.

Toumi was still scrubbing at the huge rice pot, but she wasn't smirking any more—her face looked the thin grey of spring snow and she didn't look up at all when we came in.

“Might as well get used to it,” grumbled Kee Sun. “By this evening they'll all be in there but yeh lot and the lady.” He wrenched the knife free from the table, only to stab it in again so hard that the metal of the blade sang with the impact. “Blah!” he muttered. “Women!”

—

Kee Sun was right. By the time that our lessons were over, three more of the women had gone to the Retreat. As we brought the food to the cabin for the mid-day meal, I could only think that it must be awfully crowded in there.

And they didn't sound as if they were in a terribly good mood.

By the time we served that evening's meal, only Lady Chiyome, Lieutenant Masugu, the Little Brothers and Aimaru were seated at the three-sided table. Aimaru looked exceedingly uncomfortable when we served him.

Emi seemed as if she were about to ask him something, but Chiyome
-sama
broke in first, her face twisted in a wicked smirk. “It is so lovely to be in the company of men, from time to time. Don't you agree, Lieutenant?”

Masugu
-
san
shrugged. “Certainly, my lady—a soldier learns to enjoy the companionship of his fellows. Yet I must admit that I am pleased still to enjoy the beauteous company of ladies.” He lifted his
sake
cup, first to Lady Chiyome, and then to Emi and me.

I found heat rising up my neck to my ears.

“Flatterer,” said Lady Chiyome, still smirking, as I backed away, trying to hide my shame at my shame.

—

The women remained in the Retreat for four more days, during which time our lessons were suspended; our teachers were all gone, and we had all the duties of Lady Chiyome's women to attend to.

I'd never been so tired, nor so happy to go back to working in the kitchen. At least there it was always warm.