A shinobi no mono should look stupid while their strategies are profound.
—Bansenshukai, Manual of the Shinobi
Sai
I staggered into the kimono shop just before noon so exhausted I could barely stand.
“Sai,” Hanae shrieked, “We were worried about you.”
I put down my bucket and yawned. “I’m fine. So is Yujirō-san.”
Kaguya came charging in, followed more sedately by Akiyo-sensei. Everyone began talking at once.
“…heard there was a big battle up by the Academy…”
“…the Chrysanthemum House as good as they say…”
“…find anything about Maeda-sensei’s death…“
I held my hand up to stop the questions. “Just a moment. I need to catch my breath.”
I carried the bucket with the damaged kimono into the next room, set it down, and collapsed on the tatami. Everyone sat and watched me expectantly. Hanae gave me some tea. Once I felt better, I said, “Yes, there was a battle. We were attacked by White Hilts. I am fine. Yujirō-san is fine. The White Hilts are not fine. Our kimono are … well … not fine, but I think they will come clean. I soaked them before the bloodstains had time to set.” I handed a koban to Akiyo-sensei. “Yujirō-san gave me this for the damage he did to his kimono. It was badly cut.”
Kaguya pulled one of the kimono out of the bucket to look at it. “We will see what we can do for these.” She let it drop back into the water.
“The Chrysanthemum House food was heavenly, so was the view. I would eat there every day if I were the shogun.” I reached into my obi and pulled out the needle. “We found this under the hut where we think Maeda-sensei was murdered.”
I handed the needle to Akiyo-sensei.
She held it up to the window and examined it closely in the sunlight. A worried frown gradually appeared on her face. “What else did you learn?”
I told them what we had seen at the restaurant. When I repeated the description the server gave us of the crippled man, Akiyo-sensei’s face went pale and she shook her head.
“No, he wouldn’t dare. Has he gone mad?” she whispered.
“What do you mean, Sensei?” asked Kaguya.
Akiyo-sensei walked over to the butsudan.
“Hajime.”
The other girls and I exchanged glances. The sensei had never mentioned a Hajime to me. The other two didn’t seem to have heard of him, either.
“He was with the first shinobi group I worked with when I came to Edo.” She looked back at the butsudan. “He was among the ones captured when Mamiko was forced to give up our location. I saw him again a year later, horribly disfigured. He had been a handsome man. Perhaps a bit vain. They had obviously tortured him.”
She sank to the ground and put her head in her hands. “I should have killed him.”
“Why?” I asked.
“They let him go, so he must have talked.” She shook her head. “I felt sorry for him. He must have suffered so much before he broke. But if I had killed him, we wouldn’t have this problem now.”
I looked at Kaguya, hoping that she could come up with something to say that would help Akiyo-sensei, but Kaguya seemed too stunned to talk.
Akiyo-sensei straightened. “Tell me about the White Hilts,” She ordered. “The gangs generally leave accomplished swordsmen alone. Didn’t they recognize the Sleeping Tiger?”
I winced. “Yes, they knew him. One went running for help as soon as they saw him.” This was going to upset Akiyo-sensei even more, but I wasn’t going to keep anything from her ever again. “I said something that angered one of them, but I really thought that they were going to attack once help arrived no matter what we did.”
Akiyo-sensei nodded her head slowly. “Yes, someone planned on having Yujirō-san killed fighting other ronin. That wouldn’t arouse much suspicion. And it was a White Hilt that had the metsubushi powder. So, Hajime is accepting unauthorized assassinations too?” Akiyo-sensei’s face hardened. “I must kill him without delay. It was a mistake to spare him. We have to find where he is staying.”
Kaguya stood. “I have a job at the Golden Dragon. That is where the White Hilts gather. There will be talk of the fight today. I can learn why they attacked Yujirō-san, and perhaps more. I need to go, or I will be late.”
I stood and headed up the stairs. “I’m going to bed. I didn’t sleep much last night, and I have been escorting Yujirō-san around all morning.”
“Don’t forget your dinner with Inspector Asano,” Hanae said.
“Do I have to?” I wailed. “He is boring.”
“Yes, we need information. He might know something about the White Hilts. Get him talking.”
Hanae giggled. “You said you wanted men to pay attention to you. Well, now you have one who is paying attention.”
“Yuck! He thinks I am a boy.” I pictured the look on Asano’s face if he put his hands down my hakama and started to giggle. “If he does like me in that way, he will be in for a shock.” I gasped between laughs.
Hanae joined me in laughter.
“You two are incorrigible,” Akiyo-sensei said. “Hanae, get back to the shop. Sai, go to sleep.”
*****
Asano arrived late, hurrying into the teahouse with a harried expression on his face. He grabbed my tea cup and said, “Come with me. We are getting a private room.”
Does he just like private rooms or…
The scenario that Hanae and I were laughing about suddenly didn’t seem so funny.
What should I do?
I had no wish to do the kinds of things with Asano I had seen in the brothel, but I was supposed to be gaining his trust. Was sleeping with him going to be part of that? I followed him, fighting my rising panic. My hand crept to the small knife hidden in my obi. Kunoichi were supposed to do this kind of thing if the assignment called for it. I had been fortunate enough to avoid these assignments so far, but Kaguya did them. I forced my hand away from the knife. If she could do it, I could too.
What will he do when he finds out I am a girl?
Once we were seated, he leaned forward, bringing his face close to mine, looked me in the eye, and said, “Tell me about the White Hilts.”
Oh. He just wants to talk privately.
Relief washed over me.
“Uhhh … White Hilts?”
“Sai, we are working together, remember? Was it Yujirō-san they fought last night? What happened?”
“Oh, that. Yes. They attacked Yujirō-san. But he is fine. Fortunately, one of the chonin gangs came to help him.” I added hastily, “I don’t know which one.”
“I have no interest in chonin gangs.” He shook his head. “Although it might have been nice if they had killed all the White Hilts while they were at it,” he added, mostly to himself. He sat up a little straighter. “I thought it had to be Yujirō. While some of the bodies had been hacked to death, nearly half showed the precise cuts of an expertly handled katana. And he wasn’t even hurt? I must admit, I’m impressed.”
I agreed with Inspector Asano. I had been a bit surprised to see Yujirō up and fighting when I returned with Hitoshi.
“Well, he was a little cut up. But nothing serious.”
The serving-girl came in and refilled our tea. She also left a bottle of saké and put down a plate of gyoza between us. After we ordered fish stew, a specialty of the house, she left again.
“He certainly left me a mess to clean up. The constables normally deal with street disturbances, but with so many dead, they called us in just in case there were political ramifications. I spent all day dealing with the bodies,” Asano grumbled as he gulped down his saké.
I poured him some more. “What did you have to do?”
“I have been tasked with the investigation of what led to the battle and who was involved. So I have been trying to find witnesses and determine what happened. Not that anyone admits to seeing a thing, of course. The constables have to determine if the families can be found and get the bodies to them so they can have proper funerals. At least for the samurai.” He drank more saké. “But most of them were from the provinces, or no one knew who they really were. So, they dumped them at a monastery for a quick funeral. A busy day for the eta.”
I shuddered. I hated dealing with bodies. They’re unclean, even immediately after death. I wished I could just call for eta to deal with the people I assassinated. It doesn’t bother them, they’re used to dead things.
“If he had gotten their leader, I wouldn’t have minded the extra work at all. But Daichi survived.” He wagged his finger at me. “Tell Yujirō-san to make sure he takes out that aho next time. Edo would be a better place without him.”
“Next time?” I said.
He shrugged. “This was an attempt to kill him, wasn’t it? If so, they’ll try again.”
“Yes, I think it was.”
He rubbed his forehead. “Then I have to cover it up.”
He had finished his saké again, so I poured him more. I was surprised to see him drink so much. Samurai weren’t supposed to drink to excess, and he was normally very straitlaced.
The serving-girl came in with our stew and dished it out into our bowls.
After she left, Asano looked at me. “People said something about a woman with him, was that one of your kunoichi?”
I wonder what he would say if he knew that I was the kunoichi.
“Yes.” I ate my soup, trying not to look at him.
“I heard she wielded a naginata like a samurai woman. I saw some of the men she killed. Most impressive. No wonder the male shinobi don’t like her. It must be difficult to be outclassed by a woman.”
“They don’t like her?” I forced myself to concentrate on my soup, but I was hurt.
What have I ever done to them?
“Haven’t they said anything to you about it?” he asked.
“No, I have never met them. The shinobi groups know nothing about each other. That way we can’t betray anyone outside our own little group.”
“Oh, I wasn’t aware of that.” Asano thought for a moment. He smiled, staring off into the distance. “A kunoichi assassin. A deadly woman. She must be rather exciting.”
He shook his head and laughed. “Not one I would want to marry, though. I would worry she would kill me if I angered her.” He laughed again, a bit too long and loud. He was feeling his saké.
Hmmmph. I would probably end up killing you for being such an aho. Not that I would marry you.
He leaned forward. “What have you learned about the Maedas?”
Shimatta. I forgot I was supposed to be investigating them. I had better make this sound good.
“I have talked with my chunin about the elder Maeda. She holds him in high regard but emphasized his dedication to the shogun. There is nothing he won’t do to fulfill his duty.”
He nodded in approval. “I have heard that too. Is it true that your chunin and Maeda-sama were lovers?”
I nearly dropped my spoon. “She hasn’t actually said, but it’s possible. Where did you hear that?”
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
“My contact with the other shinobi group. He seemed to think I wouldn’t want to work with you if I knew that. He was under the impression that I gave your group most of the jobs I have.”
He looked at me. “I don’t, you know. I tell both groups about any information I need. Your group just comes up with it more often. Although you missed some things at the Confucius Academy.”
I stopped eating and stared at him, trying to mask my panic. There was another informer at the Confucius Academy? What had he reported to the secret police? I hoped that it wasn’t Hitoshi and the weapons or the Edo Christians.
Asano continued on, oblivious to my reaction. “I give them more assassinations than your group. I offered the Sleeping Tiger to them first, but they didn’t think they could do it with the restrictions I placed on the job.” He shook his head morosely. “They told me about your chunin because they thought we wouldn’t want to work with someone who was loyal to the Tiger in the Shadows. Even the shinobi know we are crooked.”
“What did we miss at the Academy?” I prompted.
The weapons. It has to be the weapons. Hitoshi was careless. The Christians were not.
Inspector Asano smiled and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I know I’m only a minor source of jobs for you, I can understand if you were busy.”
“Why do you think that?” I was confused. Asano was the source of more jobs than all our other contacts combined.
“The other shinobi seem to think you make far more money than they do. I am not sure why.” He leaned forward confidentially. In a lower tone, he said, “They are trying to steal your business.”
Outraged, I said, “That’s terrible.”
Asano sat back and laughed. “Shinobi competing like a bunch of chonin businessmen. How funny!” He stood up unsteadily. “If you are finished, we can go to the play now. I can only pay for the cheapest seats, but you can still see and hear from there.”
I stood, my head spinning with everything he had said. I had already seen the Noh play once. It was boring.
“Kabuki is less expensive,” I suggested. “Do you like kabuki?”
He brought himself to his full height. “It is not proper for a samurai to go to kabuki plays. They are for the lower classes.”
Snob.
“I see samurai go all the time.”
“Perhaps those who are not cognizant of their station.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Come, before the balcony sells out.” He set off.
I ran after him. “If you are worried about running out of money, I know how we could get some more.”
He stopped, and I nearly ran into him. “How do you ‘get some more’ money?”
“The dice games.”
He started walking again. “It seems to me that I am far more likely to lose what little I have than get more.”
“Sure, if you don’t know what you are doing, you will lose. But my father was a gambler. I know all the tricks.”
He looked at me curiously. “Your father was a gambler, not a shinobi?”
“Well, he would have told you that he was a ‘street player.’ He reenacted scenes from popular kabuki and Noh along the highway and at festivals. But he liked to gamble.”
Inspector Asano hesitated. “There are tricks?” He shook his head. “In any case, it is illegal. I cannot be seen gambling. I am an inspector of the secret police.”
“Then you need to know about gambling, don’t you? How can you enforce the law if you have no idea of what is going on? How can you investigate a gambler if you have no idea of what he does?”
He stood there, staring at me. “You are being unexpectedly difficult. Very well, you may teach me about gambling. I admit to being curious.” Wagging his finger at me, he continued. “But if I lose my money, we are done. We will not be able to attend a play then.”
I smiled. “Agreed.”
I set off toward my favorite gambling establishment. “Chō-Han is a simple game. The dealer shakes two dice in a bamboo cup, then puts the cup on the floor with the dice still in it. The players have to guess if the sum of the dice is odd or even. If you are right, you split the pot with the others who guessed correctly. If you are wrong, you lose your bet.”
Asano nodded. “Easy enough, but it seems to me that you would have equal chances of either outcome. How can you be sure of winning?”
“If the game is honest, that is true. So you have to find the crooked games. As long as you know how they cheat, you can win along with the house.”
“How long is this going to take if we have to find a crooked dealer?”
I smiled. “I already know all the crooked dealers in Edo. Many of the dealers are crooked.” I stopped and looked at him. “This is what we are going to do. The dealer we are going to uses some weighted dice that always come up even. How he cheats varies, so I will have to watch him. But he always has a ‘friend.’ When he is going to use his weighted dice, the friend bets even, and he makes a big bet. The friend wins, and they split the winnings after the game.”
Asano scowled. “I see why this is illegal.”
“Actually, you don’t. You won’t understand until you play. There is one rule though: You must promise that when I ask to leave, you do so. No matter how well you are doing.”
“Very well…” He sounded puzzled.
“If you win too much, they’ll know you’ve figured out what they are doing. Then, they will kill you.” The memory of my father being run through with a katana flashed through my mind.
“Maybe they won’t kill you,” I amended. “You are a samurai and in the police. But the result will be unpleasant in any case.”
“You have my word—I will do as you ask,” Asano said.
We approached a brightly lit building. I smiled in anticipation. It was a small payback, but cheating the gamblers was all I could do to avenge my father. I couldn’t tell Akiyo-sensei about it, so I had to hide the money I won, but it was fun to beat them at their own game.
Standing across the street, we heard the cries of the gamblers as they called out their bets.
“We’ll watch a bit, first,” I told him.
Asano tied a scarf around his head to obscure most of his face. I suppressed a smile and walked into the building.
Gamblers packed the small room where the dice game was held. The only open space was directly in front of the dealer to allow him to throw the dice and gamblers to place their bets. Several of the men seated in a circle on the tatami mats gave the twin weapons in Asano’s obi a quick perusal, but nothing could keep their attention from the dice for long. The bare chested, tattooed dealer raised both hands above his head. In his right hand, he had two dice, one held between his index and middle fingers, the other between his middle and ring fingers. This demonstrated that he had only two dice. In his left hand, he held the cup, top forward, so everyone could see it was empty. This was to demonstrate how honest he was.
Every eye in the house watched him with fevered excitement as he threw the dice into the cup, covering it with his right palm. Asano was forgotten. The dealer shook the cup violently and then slammed it down on the mat in front of him.
The bettors placed their silver monme on “odd” or “even.” Once all the bets were in place, the dealer lifted the cup to reveal the dice. “Three and four. Odd!” he announced. About half the men gleefully picked up their winnings while the rest groaned at their losses.
The bettor in the garish yellow and green kimono looked familiar. He sat to the left of the dealer. I watched several rounds of the game until the man in the garish kimono leaned forward slightly as if to better see the dice. He placed his hand on the floor near his foot, putting something on the ground. In the course of sweeping the coins from the losing bettors into the bank, the dealer casually ran his hand over the item and palmed it.
The dealer raised his hands to show dice in his right hand, placed the dice in the cup and rolled. As the cup sat on the mat, the men placed their bets. The one in the garish kimono bet six monme on even. The dealer revealed the dice. They were even. He picked the dice up, but in the process of sweeping in the losing coins, he dropped the dice back. He swept up the dice and he and the man next to him exchanged the dice again. The man in the yellow and green kimono stuck his hand in his obi, no doubt to hide the loaded dice.
So, that is how they are playing it tonight.
I tugged on Asano’s sleeve and said, “You can sit down and start gambling.”
Asano sat down and pulled out a few monme. “What should I bet?”
“Start by betting one monme on whatever you want, until you get a feel for it. Then vary the amount of your bets.” I sat beside him, occasionally stacking his coins.
He gained confidence rapidly. Helped, no doubt, by the fact that he was lucky and won much more often than he lost. I saw the dealer exchange dice again.
I began playing with his winnings, sorting and stacking them. When no one was looking, I slipped some of it into my kimono sleeve.
“Six monme on even,” I murmured in Asano’s ear. His highest bet so far had been five, so six wouldn’t raise any questions.
He won. The dealer did not exchange dice.
“Seven monme this time. Even again.”
He won again. The dealer exchanged dice.
I thought it best to lose big to avoid suspicion. “Six again.”
He won again.
Shimatta, how do I make him lose?
“Keep betting on even until you lose some.”
I kept sorting and slipping coins into my sleeve. Finally, in a series of bad bets, he lost twenty monme. That severely diminished the stack of coins in front of him.
“We can go now,” I whispered.
“I’m going to win it back,” he said.
I whined loudly, “You promised. You told me you would take me to the puppet theater.”
I have got to get him out of here.
He looked at me in confusion, then nodded his head. “I did give my word.” He scooped the money into his purse and made his exit.
We stopped outside and he counted the coins. “This is a fortnight’s stipend, made in just a fraction of an evening,” he exclaimed in astonishment.
I dug the coins out of my sleeve and handed them to him. “Closer to a month’s stipend.”
“Why did you take that?”
“Remember? The important thing is they don’t think you won too much. By taking the coins, I kept the stack in front of you smaller.” I giggled. “That dealer is going to have a hard time explaining tonight’s losses to his boss.”
We started walking. “I used to do this for my father too.”
Only I didn’t give him all the coins back. I made sure my mother got some so we could buy food.
He added the coins to his wallet. “Now you want to go to the puppet theater?”
“Yes. Nearby, there is a group visiting from Osaka. Everyone is talking about them. They say the show is like nothing you have ever seen. Only thirty monme each.”
“Sixty monme to see puppets?” he repeated in shock.
“You have far more than sixty monme here. You will end this evening richer than you started even with the puppets.”
Asano looked at me in exasperation, then smiled. “Very well. You have a point. We will see these puppets.”
I don’t think he will ever offer to take me out again, but at least I didn’t have to sit through a Noh play.
We walked in silence. As we approached the theater district, he said. “I have reports of weapons at the Confucius Academy. Have you heard anything about that? Were the chonin that came to help Yujirō-san well-armed?”
Shimatta! Hitoshi and his weapons are going to get us all killed.
“I didn’t hear about the weapons they used,” I answered.
“It might be a good idea for Yujirō-san to make sure there are no weapons on the premises that the oyabun does not have permission to possess. Very soon.”
“I will tell him.”
The theatre was busy. Asano paid our way in. The play hadn’t started and well-dressed samurai stood talking with wealthy merchants and gorgeously costumed courtesans. I studied the kimono carefully. Akiyo-sensei would want a report.
Two craftsmen manned a stand making amezaiku. Realistic looking animals crafted out of a sugar and starch mixture lined the shelves of the stand. I walked over to watch the craftsmen as they worked.
“I want a tiger and a carp,” I told them.
One of the men bowed and got to work. The candies were exquisite. They looked like glass sculptures. A bit of sugary paint completed them and I took them to Asano. I presented him with the carp—the symbol of courage and masculinity—and ate the tiger myself. I rather liked thinking of myself as a tigress.
Secret Tigress? Hidden Tigress? How does one get a nickname anyway?
Before the show started, Inspector Asano went and got some saké for us to drink while we watched the performance.
We heard clacking to announce the beginning of the play and hurried to our section. They were performing the Maiden of Unai, a traditional folktale.
The chanter began by setting the scene.
“The Maiden of Unai was fair as an earthly deity, but the eyes of man might not behold her.”
The shamisen player strummed a melody.
The puppet of the Maiden was carried onstage by three puppeteers dressed in all black. The puppet’s eyes moved as she regarded the audience. She even had hands, something I had not seen on a puppet previously.
“That’s amazing,” Asano whispered.
“A soothsayer predicted that every man who looks upon me shall pine with love and longing, so I have been shut away where none can see me,” the chanter voiced for the Maiden.
The puppet placed her hand against her chest and bowed her head in sorrow.
The show was the best I had ever seen. Every puppet was nearly life-sized, so complicated that they required more than one puppeteer. The puppeteers dressed in black against a black backdrop, so were easy to ignore. The movements of the puppets were almost lifelike.
Despite her being shut away, two heroes came to vie for her love. Rather than have them die, the maiden threw herself into the river to drown. The two heroes jumped in after her, and all three perished. Their bodies were later found on the banks of the river, entwined in death. The three were buried together, the maid in the center and the two heroes, one on each side, guarding her. I was in tears by the time it ended.
We stood outside the theatre.
Asano said, “This night is not one I shall ever forget. I truly enjoyed myself.”
“I did too. It was fun,” I said with a smile.
He started to step away, then stopped and gazed at me. “I would like to see you as a woman, sometime.”
“What?” My hand went to neck of my kimono, holding it tightly closed. What does he mean by that?
“Sai. We have been working together for four years now. In that time you have hardly grown and still have no sign of a beard. You work for a chunin that leads the kunoichi. I am not as quick as the Tiger in the Shadows, but I am not stupid. I know you are a woman.”
“Oh, well…” I stammered.
“Perhaps you can take me to one of your kabuki plays.” He said with a smile. “I suppose I should continue my education regarding forbidden pleasures. But next time we meet, I want you to come as your true self.”
“Oh. I am always interested in kabuki,” I said weakly.
“Then we shall do this again, soon.” He turned and walked off.
I watched him leave, struggling to understand what had just happened.
Does that mean he likes me? No, he hasn’t seen me as a woman, but maybe he thinks he could?
Confused, I headed home.
Asano was good-looking and he couldn’t be more than twenty-five, but why would Asano like me? I didn’t behave like a proper woman. I behaved like a brat. I was a perfect lady at the Chrysanthemum House, and far from being impressed or smitten, Yujirō was amused. At least until we got into a battle with the White Hilts.
Of course, Asano could have been looking for sex. After all, a samurai wouldn’t marry a chonin. Unless of course, her father was rich.
Memories of the brothel came back. I shuddered. Was that what he wanted? I didn’t think it was what I wanted.
Well-dressed samurai and courtesans swept by me, chattering gaily. I watched them, realizing that despite my upbringing, I knew nothing about relationships between men and women.
But, maybe he just had fun and wanted to go somewhere again. After all, being a proper samurai had to be boring. Could it be that he just liked me?
I want a man to like me, don’t I?
Suddenly, I stopped.
Weapons. I have to tell Hitoshi to get rid of the weapons.
I hurried off to the Academy.
What does my true self look like?