Shinjū

Chapter 30

Setsubun was over. The first morning of the New Year enfolded Edo in a hushed serenity. In the deserted streets, only a sprinkling of litter missed by the sweepers-a dusting of crushed soybeans, an abandoned mask, a few colored paper scraps-served as silent reminders of the wild celebration that had ended so recently. A rare late snow had fallen sometime during the night, frosting the rooftops with a barely visible tracery of white. The sun glinted brightly from an icy blue sky, giving the city a sharp-edged, crystalline quality.

Sano rode slowly toward his parents’ home. Last night, the shogun had rescinded the order for his arrest, and he was now a free man. Through eyes watery from the cold and aching with fatigue, he gazed with wonder at a world that seemed strangely altered. The shops were closed for the holiday. Later the streets would fill with people making their New Year’s visits, but for now the houses lay still and silent, their pine-and-bamboo-decorated doors closed tight against the chill. This was the city where he’d lived his entire life. He realized that it looked no different than on any past New Year’s Day. Only he had changed.

The city streets faded from his awareness as he thought about the night he’d spent at Edo Castle. There the doctors had treated his superficial cuts and bruises, stitched the deep gash in his shoulder, and applied herbal poultices to ease the pain and prevent festering. Servants had bathed him, arranged his hair, dressed him in clean warm garments, and given him tea. Then, with no warning and no time to wonder at the miracle of it, he’d found himself in private audience with the shogun, the chamberlain, and the Council of Elders.

Tokugawa Tsunayoshi occupied the dais of the huge reception room. He’d removed his costume and now wore formal black robes. His face looked drawn and anxious and older than his forty-three years. Chamberlain Yanagisawa and the five elders knelt at the foot of the dais; the shogun seemed to need their protection as much as he had that of his guards during the battle.

“You saved my life, Sano Ichirō,” he said in a voice higher and milder than Sano would have expected of the nation’s supreme military commander. “For that I would like to express my appreciation. But first, will you please explain how you came to learn of young Lord Niu’s plot?”

Sano told his story. He presented the sandal and the rope- talismans he’d clung to long after they’d lost their practical value. He read aloud the scroll and Lady Niu’s letter.

When he finished, everyone spoke at once.

“An outrage!”

“Lady Niu a murderer?”

“Niu Masahito must have been possessed by demons. Why else would he even attempt such a thing?”

“And can it be true that Magistrate Ogyu obstructed the investigation that led to the discovery of the plot?”

Chamberlain Yanagisawa raised his voice above the others‘. “I suggest we let the honorable magistrate speak for himself.

He clapped his hands. At this signal, two guards escorted a stumbling Magistrate Ogyu into the room. Sano stared in astonishment. His former superior looked as though he’d been dragged from his bed. His face was dazed with sleep, and he wore a cloak thrown hastily over his nightclothes. When he saw Sano, he whimpered and backed toward the door. But the guards yanked him forward and shoved him to his knees before the shogun.

“Your Excellency, what an honor this is,” Ogyu faltered, bowing.

The shogun fixed him with a stern look. “Did you try to prevent Sano Ichirō from investigating the murders of Niu Yukiko and Noriyoshi?”

“Why-why, no, Your Excellency,” Ogyu stammered, obviously too befuddled to lie with conviction. The shogun exchanged glances with Chamberlain Yanagisawa, who frowned. “Are you aware that Lady Niu ordered the murders for the purpose of protecting her son?” Tokugawa Tsunayoshi demanded. “If Sano Ichirō had not persisted in investigating them-against your orders-Lord Niu would have succeeded in his attempt to assassinate me tonight.”

“No. Oh, no,” Ogyu moaned. Body quaking, he prostrated himself before the shogun. Sano could almost see the waves of terror rising from him. “Your Excellency, please understand. I assure you that if I had known, I never would have-”

“Enough!” The shogun’s command cut off his pleas. “For your gross negligence of your duty and your treasonous endangerment of my life, I relieve you of your duties as north magistrate of Edo and sentence you to permanent exile on Hachijo Island. You will be held at Edo Jail until the ship sails in three months.” He nodded at the guards. “Take him away.”

“No!” Ogyu screamed.”‘Please, Your Excellency, have mercy!”

The guards seized him. He kicked and fought, but they bore him swiftly from the room. Sano could hear his hysterical sobs echoing down the corridor. He lowered his own head, shaken by the sudden fall of a once formidable adversary. A spurt of horror and pity diluted his satisfaction at seeing Magistrate Ogyu punished.

When the room was silent once again, one of the elders said, “What shall we do about this sorry state of affairs?”

Chamberlain Yanagisawa spoke before the shogun could. “One thing is certain,” he said. “As few people as possible must be allowed to know that His Excellency was almost killed tonight, or that a slipup in our security ever occurred. I will tell you why this is so and how we can accomplish that which must be done.”

The elders and Tokugawa Tsunayoshi listened with respect. Sano could tell that the handsome Yanagisawa wielded much of the shogun’s authority, just as the other yoriki had implied during that long-ago breakfast in the barracks.

“We cannot afford to have the daimyo think that the shogun is vulnerable to attack,” Yanagisawa explained. “Not only would the Tokugawa clan lose face, but a large-scale insurrection might result.”

There were murmurs of agreement.

“Therefore I propose that we disseminate the following story, which will also be entered into the official records: One band of outlaws attacked a rival band in Yoshiwara tonight. During the ensuing riot, many innocent bystanders, who rushed to the aid of the police, were killed. Young Lord Niu and twenty of his friends numbered among them. All the outlaws not killed on the spot were taken into custody by the police and later executed.”

There was silence while everyone considered this. The shogun nodded, and the elders exchanged glances. Sano, although appalled by this distortion of the truth, could nevertheless see the advantages of the chamberlain’s plan.

Then the senior elder said hesitantly, “It will work, yes. Besides us, very few people know that His Excellency was in Yoshiwara tonight-just his bodyguards, his family, and his most trusted servants. Young Lord Niu and all the members of the Conspiracy of Twenty-One are dead. My assistants have visited the Niu estate and have confirmed that Lady Niu and her manservant Eii-chan are also dead. We can use… methods”-his tone implied “threats and bribes”- “‘to ensure that the witnesses do not spread rumors. And no one associated with the Niu or other daimyo clans will admit to being a party to treason. But the law states that relatives of traitors must be punished. Should we not comply?”

Sano’s heart sank as he imagined Midori and her sisters, Lord Niu Masamune and his sons and grandchildren, the families of the other conspirators-hundreds of innocent people-being led to the execution ground to pay for a crime they hadn’t committed. Relief overwhelmed him when the chamberlain spoke.

“As you have pointed out, the guilty parties are all dead,” Yanagisawa said. “Further punishment… ” He spread his hands in an eloquent gesture, his meaning obvious. Further punishment would satisfy the law, but not the government’s need for secrecy or the country’s need for order and peace.

Sano’s poultices had numbed his pain; the drugged tea was making him drowsy. His eyelids drooped as the shogun and the elders agreed to Yanagisawa’s plan and discussed the particulars of carrying it out. He snapped awake when the shogun spoke his name.

“Sano-san, forgive us for keeping you so long. You are tired. But it will only take a moment more to settle the matter of your reward.”

With difficulty, Sano roused himself.

“In return for the valuable service you have rendered me, I will grant you a favor of your choosing,” Tokugawa Tsunayoshi said.

Sano was overwhelmed by the enormity of this unexpected gift. “Thank you, Your Excellency,” he stammered. But how to make the right choice? Finally he settled on the one that would eliminate his most recent source of guilt. “I ask that the courtesan Wisteria be freed from the pleasure quarter and given enough money to live as an independent citizen.”

The shogun leaned forward, a thoughtful frown on his face. “Very well. But surely this is too trivial a favor. Ask another.”

Emboldened, Sano said, “I ask that a monument commemorating the death of my secretary, Hamada Tsunehiko, in the line of duty, be erected in his family burial plot.” The shogun’s recognition would go far toward comforting the boy’s family, and some way toward fulfilling his own need to make reparation to them. “And that Niu Midori be released from the nunnery at the Temple of Kannon and brought home to Edo.”

“He asks nothing for himself,” the shogun said to the others in surprised admiration. “Only for others.” Turning to Sano, he said, “The things you ask will be done. But in recognition of your selfless generosity, I shall further reward you as I see fit.”

Now Sano entered the gate to his neighborhood. As he crossed the canal, he looked at the splendid black steed that Tokugawa Tsunayoshi had given him to replace Wada-san’s dead one. Its saddlebags bulged with New Year gifts-fine lacquerware and ceramics and silver, beautifully wrapped parcels of mochi and tangerines-for his family and friends. He looked down at himself. The rich padded cloak and silk robes he wore came from the shogun’s own wardrobe; all bore the Tokugawa crest. He touched the magnificent swords his grateful benefactor had given him: the finest work of the master swordmaker, Yoshimitsu. He felt the weight of the pouch containing ten gold pieces-an advance on the real reward that he would collect after his visit home. All the finery seemed as if it belonged to someone else, that stranger he’d become. And he couldn’t bear to think of the real reward just yet.

In front of his parents’ house, Sano dismounted. He’d no sooner led the horse through the gate when the door opened. There stood his father, frail and stooping and looking more ill than ever. With one hand he supported himself against the door frame; in the other, he held the letter Sano had sent by way of the priest. His sunken eyes reflected a mixture of hope, uncertainty, suspicion, fear, and helpless love.

Guilt tore at Sano’s heart. Whatever he’d accomplished last night, he would never forgive himself for inflicting such pain on his father. He started to speak, but his throat closed. Tears of shame stung his eyes.

“Ichirō.” His father extended the hand that held the letter, then dropped it as if unsure whether to invite Sano inside or bar the door. A cough wracked his body. Recovering, he said, “Are you home to stay?” The tentative query encompassed myriad other unspoken ones.

Sano cleared his throat. “Otōsan,” he said, bowing, “I’ve returned home for the holiday only. The shogun has appointed me his special investigator. When I leave here, I shall take up residence in the castle and begin my work-at ten times my former salary.” There: he’d said it aloud. Telling someone gave the reward a reality it had lacked when the shogun had bestowed it and he’d accepted. The acknowledgment filled him with a formless dread that left no room for pleasure.”If you let me inside, I’ll explain.”

His father frowned in disbelief. Then his eyes, which hadn’t left Sano’s face, moved to the horse, the clothes, the swords. He paled, and the arm that supported him began to shake. He started to fall.

“Otōsan!”

Dropping the reins, Sano hurried forward and caught him. At the same time, his mother appeared in the doorway. Her joyful greeting turned to an exclamation of dismay when she saw her husband’s ashen face. With her help, Sano got the old man into the house and settled under warm quilts beside the charcoal brazier. Then he went back outside to stable the horse.

“Ichirō-chan, we were so worried, what happened to you?” his mother cried when he returned. “Where have you been?” She gazed in awe at Sano’s clothes and swords, and at the treasure -laden saddlebags that he held. “What can be the meaning of this?”

Sano knelt before his parents. Tokugawa Tsunayoshi had given him permission to tell them the truth. After swearing them to secrecy, he did. “If anyone asks, you must say only that the shogun promoted me because of a service I did him while I was a yoriki,” he added when he’d finished. That was the story that Yanagisawa and the elders had concocted. How neatly they’d secured his complicity in the deception.

His mother reacted to the news with delight. “Oh, Ichirō-chan, you are a hero! And what a wonderful reward for your courage!” Eyes teary, she beamed at him.”Everything has turned out for the best.”

Sano wished he could share her belief. He feared, without being able to say exactly why, that his new appointment would prove to be as much a punishment as a reward. Trying to push these disturbing thoughts away, he managed a smile for his mother. Then he turned to his father.

The old man only nodded and said, “You have brought honor to our family name, my son.” But he sat straighter, visibly gaining color, strength, and vitality.

Laughing, Sano’s mother rose. “With all this excitement, I’ve forgotten all about our meal!” She hurried out to the kitchen.

During their New Year’s Day feast, Sano made himself eat to please his mother. Pain and fatigue robbed him of desire for the red beans and cold soup, the sweet spiced wine and other holiday treats, although he took great satisfaction from seeing his father eat with an unusually good appetite that presaged an eventual return to health. All he wanted was to be alone, so that he could begin to make sense of all that had happened to him since he’d first heard of the shinjū. He wanted to ponder the meaning of his alarming change of fortune, to understand the emotions now starting to surface through his initial shock and numbness.

Finally the long meal ended. Sano rose, bowing to his parents. “I must go to Wada-san’s house and give him his new horse,” he explained. Taking along parcels of mochi and tangerines to distribute among his neighbors, he escaped into the quiet streets.

He delivered the horse to Wada-san, who accepted it with awe and made him stay and celebrate his promotion with a drink. He called on his neighbors, but did no more than wish them a pleasant New Year. News traveled fast; they would know of his dubious luck soon enough. Afterward, he wandered through the streets on foot, carrying his one remaining gift parcel, his thoughts in a turmoil. Mulling over the events that had brought him to this moment, he wondered what he could have done differently. Could he have prevented a great tragedy without causing the lesser ones? Did his ultimate victory outweigh his many defeats? And why did he dread beginning his new servitude?

He wasn’t surprised when he found himself outside Edo Jail once again. What he wanted was not solitude after all, but the right sort of company.

This time Dr. Ito did look surprised when he welcomed Sano at the door of his cell. After accepting Sano’s gift and exchanging New Year’s greetings, he said, “I must admit that I wondered whether I would ever see you again, my friend. Strange rumors have been circulating. What brings you here, obviously safe and-”‘ His eyebrows lifted as he saw the Tokugawa crests on Sano’s garments. “And if not well, then at least with every appearance of being well off?”

Sano said nothing. He felt full to bursting with the need to bare his soul. But now that Dr. Ito stood waiting for him to explain the real purpose of his visit, he didn’t know how to begin. How could he voice the complex fears, regrets, and doubts that tormented him?

Dr. Ito broke the silence. “I am glad you have come, Sano-san,” he said. “You are just in time to participate in my special New Year’s Day ritual. Come with me.”

He led the way through a series of guarded doors and passages and into a courtyard where the guards’ barracks stood at the base of the jail’s outer wall. In one corner, a flight of stone steps led to the top of the wall and the western guard tower.

As they climbed the steps, Dr. Ito said, “This is the day on which I look outside these walls and enjoy the view of Edo and its environs.”

Concern for his friend made Sano forget his own problems for the moment. “You mean you’re allowed to see outside the prison only once a year?” he asked in dismay. In comparison with lifelong incarceration, his own ordeal seemed trivial and the shogun’s reward an unmitigated blessing.

“Oh, no,” Dr. Ito said with a wry laugh. “The guards would let me come up whenever I asked. I treat their ailments, and in return they grant me privileges that our illustrious government would not. No, I myself choose to ration my pleasures. It gives me something to look forward to. And permits me less chance to reflect upon how much I have lost.

They reached the top of the stairway and walked along the broad, flat summit of the wall. The wind fluttered their robes as they looked out at the city.

“It is beautiful, is it not?” Dr. Ito said softly. “The beginning of the New Year is a time for hope, and my hope is that I will someday regain my freedom.” He turned and fixed his penetrating gaze on Sano.”But you did not come to hear about my troubles.”

Encouraged by his friend’s attentive and bracing presence, Sano told Dr. Ito how he’d spent Setsubun. Dr. Ito listened in silence. When Sano finished and turned to see his reaction, he nodded.

“And so you are a hero,” he said. “But not, it would appear, in your own estimation.”

The astute remark unleashed the torrent of emotion that Sano had been holding back. “Oh, yes, I’m a hero,” he said bitterly. “I saved the shogun’s life; I killed a traitor. Maybe I even prevented the collapse of the Tokugawa regime and five more centuries of civil war. I found the murderer and brought about her death. But three innocent people died because of me. Tsunehiko. Raiden. O-hisa. All sacrifices to what I considered a necessary search for the truth. To my vanity.

“If I’d known this would happen, I might have acted differently. I could have let the shinjū remain a shinjū. I’ve been a fool-a proud, clumsy fool-and rewarded for it!” Driven by unhappiness and self-disgust, he began to pace the wall.

Dr. Ito laid a gentle, restraining hand on his arm. “I can see why you feel as you do,” he said. “But such self-reproach is useless. You have fulfilled your duty to the lord who commands your highest allegiance. Perhaps the others were fated to die, just as you were fated to save the shogun. You cannot know otherwise.”

Sano shook his head. The doctor’s sympathy and understanding gave him little comfort and no sense of absolution. But he began to grasp the reason why the prospect of serving as Tokugawa Tsunayoshi’s special investigator disturbed him so much.

“When I saved the shogun’s life-when I killed Lord Niu-I thought my troubles were over,” he said, groping for the words. “This constant having to choose between personal desire and duty, when neither way seems entirely right or wrong. Pursuing inquiries without knowing where they will lead, or who will be hurt. Doing work for which I have no training and only instinct to guide me. Risking not only death, but also disgrace.”

He laughed, a forlorn sound that came from the depths of his soul. “And what is this prize position that I’ve achieved, except a chance for more of the same? Now my life will never be any different.”

“Really?”

Sano met his friend’s cynical gaze and understood at once what Dr. Ito meant. With the shogun’s authority behind him, he would have enormous power over other people’s lives. He would have even greater opportunity to cause tragedy, to face danger and expose dangerous secrets. And the conflict within him would grow stronger. His need for the truth was undiminished, but woe upon him if he should disobey his new master’s orders! Things were the same, yet different in a frightening way.

Sano nodded and sighed. “I see.”

He stopped pacing to gaze out over the city. Above the snow-frosted rooftops of Nihonbashi rose the white tower of Edo Castle, where he’d spent one night and would spend many more. He avoided the daimyo district, instead turning to look at the western hills, the network of canals that ran in all directions, and the thick, mud-colored vein of the Sumida River. He peered north toward Ueno and Yoshiwara, and south toward the theater district. He contemplated the tiny, foreshortened human figures moving through the streets. Finally he let his eyes follow the thin lines of the roads that led out of Edo to the distant provinces.

“Even now, something that is happening out there may require your investigation,” Dr. Ito said, echoing Sano’s thoughts.

“Yes.” Sano walked to the edge of the wall. He felt himself hovering on the brink of an uncertain future. Perhaps an adversary more formidable than Lady or young Lord Niu awaited him.

“I do not envy you, Sano-san. You face a difficult challenge.”

But unexpectedly, Sano’s spirits lifted. The New Year was a season for hope, as Dr. Ito had said. It offered chances for him to atone for the deaths he’d caused. His wounds would heal. Time and experience would bring him wisdom that would aid him in his pursuit of the truth. He imagined saving lives, delivering more criminals to justice, conferring more honor upon his family name. A cautious optimism began to stir inside Sano, and with it, an eagerness to take up his new responsibilities as the shogun’s special investigator.

“A challenge I accept,” he said.