Geki e jashin
The moment is perfect. All time slows and lingers in the silence between heartbeats. He had been inches from me. Mere inches.
The moment pounds and swells like the sound of taiko in my ears as I fill my lungs.
"Yama!"
Shouting frees me. I lunge for my sword and plunge me feet clumsily into sandals. I stumble on the threshold, half falling into the hall.
"Yama! Abunai!"
Clattering and shouting down below lets me know that I have been heard. The stairs are hollow beneath the drumming of my feet. Yama-san meets me at the bottom of the narrow stair. His katana catches the light and throws it in a stripe across his eyes. I expel the breath I did not know I was holding. Yama-san's eyes are familiar, comfortable, brown.
"He was here, Yama-san! He has taken the old woman."
Yama-san turns away and is shouting my orders before I give them. The doshin respond quickly and efficiently. He has trained them well.
We spread through the confines of the ryokan shouting, searching. I catch up to Yama-san in the humble kitchen. The innkeeper is prostrate amid overturned vegetables on the floor at Yama-san's feet. Three women huddle near the danro.
"... but I do not know,samurai!" the innkeeper wails. "I swear upon my ancestors, I do not know."
"I know." One of the women, little more than a girl, untangles herself from the reaching arms of the others. "I know where old Kaiko went."
She steps forward, a bit too bold. She will bring her father heartbreak. "She took her taba. She was going to the market."
I follow Yama-san to the door into the courtyard. He raises the bamboo whistle he wears around his neck and puts it to his lips. Three short shrill blasts bring the doshin at a run, clattering and sliding. He orders them in to neat rows before he speaks,"We go to the market. Be wary. We look for the old woman. Remember, do not let her touch you."
Yama-san spares me a quick glance, then sends them running. "Go!"
The moment pounds and swells like the sound of taiko in my ears as I fill my lungs.
"Yama!"
Shouting frees me. I lunge for my sword and plunge me feet clumsily into sandals. I stumble on the threshold, half falling into the hall.
"Yama! Abunai!"
Clattering and shouting down below lets me know that I have been heard. The stairs are hollow beneath the drumming of my feet. Yama-san meets me at the bottom of the narrow stair. His katana catches the light and throws it in a stripe across his eyes. I expel the breath I did not know I was holding. Yama-san's eyes are familiar, comfortable, brown.
"He was here, Yama-san! He has taken the old woman."
Yama-san turns away and is shouting my orders before I give them. The doshin respond quickly and efficiently. He has trained them well.
We spread through the confines of the ryokan shouting, searching. I catch up to Yama-san in the humble kitchen. The innkeeper is prostrate amid overturned vegetables on the floor at Yama-san's feet. Three women huddle near the danro.
"... but I do not know,samurai!" the innkeeper wails. "I swear upon my ancestors, I do not know."
"I know." One of the women, little more than a girl, untangles herself from the reaching arms of the others. "I know where old Kaiko went."
She steps forward, a bit too bold. She will bring her father heartbreak. "She took her taba. She was going to the market."
I follow Yama-san to the door into the courtyard. He raises the bamboo whistle he wears around his neck and puts it to his lips. Three short shrill blasts bring the doshin at a run, clattering and sliding. He orders them in to neat rows before he speaks,"We go to the market. Be wary. We look for the old woman. Remember, do not let her touch you."
Yama-san spares me a quick glance, then sends them running. "Go!"