(no subject)
Hi no yojin - part two
The silence between us stretches too. It pulls so thin it snaps when the servant scratches at the shoji.
I quickly gather the broken silence and push it aside. “Come.”
Yama-san steps to the left as the old woman opens the screen. She balances her tray so carefully, intent on not spilling what she carries. She does not spare my yoriki a glance as she enters. Next to him she is tiny. She is bansai, all stooped, elbows and knees, he is straight and towering, a deep forest mountain pine.
We both watch the old woman as her sets the tray on the chabudai between us and opens the screens to the outside. The morning light has shifted, it is no longer tinged with blood. I turn my head. I can see the smoke mounting along the river. It tumbles up the sky in curling ropes. There is no wind now to carry its smell into the city.
“There is a fire, magistrate-sama.” The old woman informs me. “The firemen will be busy tonight with their clappers and their cries.” Her ume-zuke mouth wrinkles even more with disapproval.
“You have seen to my yoriki?”
Old servant turns toward me and bows. “Hai, magistrate-sama. They have gone to the bath and cook is busy with their breakfast.”
I instruct her to bring my morning meal when it was ready and she withdraws. Yama-san and I wait until she was out of the room to speak again.
“We followed the blue-eyed man to the riverside. He was traveling as one of the heimin; a paper merchant, I believe.”
“What happened to the scholar?” I proceed to pour my tea.
“We found the scholar’s body last night. It was in the paper merchant’s shop, shriveled like the rest of the cast offs, legs drawn up and arms in, features collapsed - ”
I cut off the grim catalog with a swift gesture. Sometimes I think Yama-san is testing my fortitude. He seems to take pleasure in finding my limits.
With a small sigh I give in to weariness. The long night has muddled my thoughts. The aroma of the tea mingles with the scent of distant smoke. Steam fills my senses and slowly clears my head. The tea itself is astringent - slightly bitter and refreshing. The old woman brought two cups, but I do not offer Yama-san the second. It would embarrass him and I do not wish to do that any more than I wish to encourage his familiarity.
I drink my tea, and contemplate our next move.
The silence between us stretches too. It pulls so thin it snaps when the servant scratches at the shoji.
I quickly gather the broken silence and push it aside. “Come.”
Yama-san steps to the left as the old woman opens the screen. She balances her tray so carefully, intent on not spilling what she carries. She does not spare my yoriki a glance as she enters. Next to him she is tiny. She is bansai, all stooped, elbows and knees, he is straight and towering, a deep forest mountain pine.
We both watch the old woman as her sets the tray on the chabudai between us and opens the screens to the outside. The morning light has shifted, it is no longer tinged with blood. I turn my head. I can see the smoke mounting along the river. It tumbles up the sky in curling ropes. There is no wind now to carry its smell into the city.
“There is a fire, magistrate-sama.” The old woman informs me. “The firemen will be busy tonight with their clappers and their cries.” Her ume-zuke mouth wrinkles even more with disapproval.
“You have seen to my yoriki?”
Old servant turns toward me and bows. “Hai, magistrate-sama. They have gone to the bath and cook is busy with their breakfast.”
I instruct her to bring my morning meal when it was ready and she withdraws. Yama-san and I wait until she was out of the room to speak again.
“We followed the blue-eyed man to the riverside. He was traveling as one of the heimin; a paper merchant, I believe.”
“What happened to the scholar?” I proceed to pour my tea.
“We found the scholar’s body last night. It was in the paper merchant’s shop, shriveled like the rest of the cast offs, legs drawn up and arms in, features collapsed - ”
I cut off the grim catalog with a swift gesture. Sometimes I think Yama-san is testing my fortitude. He seems to take pleasure in finding my limits.
With a small sigh I give in to weariness. The long night has muddled my thoughts. The aroma of the tea mingles with the scent of distant smoke. Steam fills my senses and slowly clears my head. The tea itself is astringent - slightly bitter and refreshing. The old woman brought two cups, but I do not offer Yama-san the second. It would embarrass him and I do not wish to do that any more than I wish to encourage his familiarity.
I drink my tea, and contemplate our next move.