The Tale of the Princess of the Crescent Moon

Fourteen

Izayoi had been studying with Nakamura-sensei after school for a year, meeting with him every day except for an occasional break for a foray to the feudal era; somehow, Nakamura-sensei knew when she was not coming and when she had returned, and he never asked about her absences; he did, however, always ask her what she had learned about the bow and arrow on her "days off," as he called them.

One day, Izayoi returned home to find her mother waiting for her, standing in the doorway with a bemused expression. "What's wrong, Mom?" Izayoi asked.

Kagome wordlessly presented Izayoi with what she had been holding—an invitation for Izayoi and her mother to join Nakamura-sensei for a formal tea ceremony. The invitation itself was a thing of exquisite beauty: written in beautiful, flowing brush strokes on fine paper, delivered within a cleverly folded envelope that was bound with complex knot-work, all of it clearly made by hand by a consummate craftsman.

"Izayoi..." Kagome asked, "Do you have any idea who Isao Nakamura is?"

"Yeah," Izayoi answered, "He's my teacher. He's really nice. People tell me he's some sort of living something-or-other...I don't know anything about that. He certainly seems 'living' enough to me," she snickered.

"Well...I supposed if he had wanted you to know, he'd have told you," Kagome replied. "Your father met him when he first started teaching you, and he called him a 'nice old geezer,'" Kagome said exasperatedly. "'Geezer' indeed. He's far more than that...well, he's very important, Iza-chan. Very important. He's the archer for the emperor, Iza-chan. And this is a very, very, great honor." Kagome began fumbling about for her purse and her jacket. "Come on, Iza-chan, neither of us have anything suitable to wear, and we're going shopping right now."

For a teenage girl, Izayoi was surprisingly indifferent about clothing, and had no interest in clothes shopping; but she grudgingly allowed herself to be dragged downtown to a kimono shop, where her mother spent hours trying matching mother-and-daughter kimonos on herself and Izayoi. Kagome finally had to admit that she and Izayoi didn't look good in the same color, so she settled on a green and white kimono for herself and a charming maroon one for Izayoi.

The appointed day arrived, and the two of them took a taxi to Nakamura-sensei's house. Izayoi had offered to simply carry her mother there, but Kagome wouldn't hear of it: "And arrive with you sweaty and me windblown? Not on your life," she said firmly, as she phoned for the cab.

Nakamura-sensei lived at the opposite edge of town in a lovely tree-covered compound. It was a very traditional home, with a formal tea house at the back of the property. Izayoi had never seen a private tea house or tea garden except in books; fortunately, Kagome knew how to read the rope-tied stones that showed which paths were open and which were closed, and she showed Izayoi how to wash her hands and rinse her mouth at the ritual cleansing basin outside the tea house.

They had not been waiting long when Nakamura-sensei emerged from the main house. He greeted them warmly, and escorted them to the tea house. The tea house had a low door, through which each of them had to pass on their knees ("It's to show humility," Kagome whispered to Izayoi's unspoken question). The tea house was even more beautiful inside than outside; its only decoration was in an alcove which contained a lovely, simple flower arrangement, under a beautiful scroll that said simply, "Unforeseen wonders, revealed by the path's turn."

Kagome had made Izayoi read about the tea ceremony in preparation for the day, and from its description, Izayoi had thought it would be an extremely boring event. "Who wants to see somebody make a cup of tea?" she had asked. "Why can't we just drop a bag into the pot just like we do at home?" But Kagome could see that Izayoi found the actual event utterly captivating. Izayoi's eyes were very wide, and she missed not a single move, scrupulously imitating Nakamura-sensei's smooth motions when it was her turn to drink.

When the ceremony was over, Nakamura-sensei began to speak of the tea ceremony and the fighting arts. "In the ancient days of the true bushido," he said, "a man was not a true master if he was only capable with the sword or the bow. To be a true master, one had to be the master of the brush, the cup, and the flower, as well as the bow and the arrow."

Nakamura-sensei leaned forward and peered over his glasses at Kagome. "We both know that Izayoi is a ... unique child," he said intensely. "Her background, and her abilities, are most unusual in this day and age. She is the most capable student of the bow that I have ever taught, and in a very few years I will have nothing more to teach her. Which is not to say," he said, leaning towards Izayoi and speaking sternly, "that she will have nothing more to learn in a few more years...just that I may run out of things that I can teach her."

Nakamura-sensei cleared his throat, and continued: "But her skills with the bow will never reach their fullest if she does not explore the gentler arts, and seek the subtle, innermost reaches of her spirit. It would be my highest honor to teach her the ways of tea, of the brush, and the flower..." and he turned and said directly to Izayoi, "If, that is, you'll have me as your instructor."

"Oh, can I, Mom? Can I?" asked Izayoi breathlessly.

Kagome squirmed uncomfortably. "You're already doing so much for her," she said. "We can't possibly ask for more. And even if you did become her teacher...how could we thank you properly for such kindness?"

"How about making him lunch?" said Izayoi.

Kagome gasped at her daughter's presumption, but Nakamura-sensei laughed heartily. "My dear child," he said, wiping his eyes, "I couldn't ask for better compensation. I have made you tea; you will make me lunch. It's agreed." He leaned towards Kagome, and said, "But Izayoi must prepare it."

"It's agreed!" cheered Izayoi. "How about next Saturday at noon?"

"Done!" said Nakamura-sensei, and heartily shook her hand.

It was the appointed hour, noon Saturday, when Nakamura-sensei appeared at the Higurashi temple for his promised lunch. He knocked on the door of the family residence; Kagome's mother opened the door and greeted him warmly.

"Do come in, Nakamura-sensei. Thank you so much for everything you are doing for my granddaughter and my family."

"It's nothing," Nakamura-sensei said cheerily, bowing gracefully.

"I'm sure they'll be ready for you in a few moments." Mama smiled demurely but spoke loudly, trying to cover the sounds of chaos emerging from the kitchen. Mama tried to while away some time by showing Nakamura-sensei some of the antiques on display in the living room, but it was getting harder to drown out the noises from the kitchen with casual conversation.

"Daddy!" Izayoi's voice cut through the slamming of pots and pans. "Daddy—no! That's for my teacher! Put that down!"

There was the sound of a wrist being slapped, and then Inuyasha's voice: "Aw, c'mon, I just want to taste it!"

Another slap, and Izayoi again: "No—Daddy—no! Mom! Make him stop!"

Kagome's shout put a quick end to the ruckus: "Inuyasha! Osuwari!"

There was a loud slam, and the house shook...and then silence. Kagome suddenly appeared at the kitchen door, wiping her hands on her apron. "Oh, Nakamura-sensei, you're already here! How nice to see you!"

Izayoi appeared behind her mother in the kitchen door. Her apron was covered with large unidentifiable stains, and somehow she had managed to get scallions in her hair. She smiled sheepishly and waved. "I'm making your lunch myself, just like I promised." Suddenly she noticed the mess on her apron and in her hair; she blushed a brilliant red, and disappeared back into the kitchen.

In a few minutes, Izayoi and Kagome emerged from the kitchen with a new, clean aprons and trays full of food. "Noodles! Come and get them!" Izayoi triumphantly served her teacher first, then put a bowl down before each of the rest of the family. She sat down, then watched with anticipation as Nakamura-sensei tried the first bite.

"My dear," said Nakamura-sensei, "I have dined with the emperor himself—and I can tell you, truthfully, that even the emperor himself has never before had a meal prepared with such affection."

After the meal, Nakamura-sensei sat Izayoi down next to him, and he brought out two sets of tea-ceremony implements. He performed the same ceremony that he had for Izayoi and her mother, but this time, he explained each move as he made it, and had Izayoi go through the motions with him. "You must perform every action as though it were the most important thing in the world, the most important thing you have ever done in your life; and yet, each action is humble, simple, utterly commonplace: the folding of a napkin, the pouring of water into a cup. You must use all of your senses: hear how the sound of the whisk changes, how the scent of the water changes, when the tea is ready."

Kagome watched her daughter struggling with the simple tea-ceremony implements, and she marveled at how much this moment differed from what had happened not two weeks ago in the feudal era, when the three of them had liberated a village from an evil warlord, who had been kidnapping and enslaving young women Izayoi's age from all over the countryside...

The palace was well fortified, and protected by a sizable army of large youkai. A blast from Inuyasha's sword and a volley of Kagome's and Izayoi's purifying arrows had routed the youkai army, but before Inuyasha could draw back his sword for a second strike, Izayoi had launched herself into the midst of the youkai host, her claws flashing with golden fire, her voice raised in a roar of fury so chilling that all who heard it quailed in terror. She cut a swath through the demon army and made straight for their leader, a huge oni easily five times her size. So great was his fear of Izayoi that the oni had dropped his club and cowered in terror, pleading for his life; but Izayoi granted him no mercy, rending him limb from limb with her bare hands. When Kagome and Inuyasha finally caught up with her, she was standing over the oni's body with its head in one hand, panting with exertion and rage, her face and hair wet with gore. And then Izayoi herself had led the villager's charge to storm the innermost palace, bursting into the warlord's throne room. Swinging the dead oni's head as a weapon, she flattened the palace guards in a single blow; and then she had grabbed the warlord by the throat, lifted him into the air, and snarled, "You can take your chances with me—or face the girls' parents. It's your choice."

And now, this child becoming a woman, who was in her own way a more fearsome warrior than her father, whose name alone could strike terror in the hearts of man and demon alike...was completely absorbed in the simple action of shaking droplets of water off a bamboo whisk.

Kagome's reverie was broken by her mother's gentle laughter. Just as Kagome had been watching Izayoi, Mama had been watching Kagome. Mama leaned over to Kagome and whispered with a smile, "Now you know how it feels...to watch your child do the unimaginable."'