Chapter 2
Disclaimer: Disney owns Beauty and the Beast. Not me. I wish. (lol)
One month later
Belle sighed as she collected her most recent loan from the bookseller and prepared to quietly slip out of the house. She wanted to see what the Dutch quarter looked like empty. Normally it was bustling with the everyday activities of any small town, full of the shouts of merchants and other businessmen hawking their wares to passersby, punctuated with knots of men and women trading the latest gossip. But this morning, slipping out unusually early, Belle hoped to get a good look at the town itself before its human population appeared for ordinary business.
After only a month in Nagasaki, she was already chafing at the lack of things to occupy her time. In Brussels there had always been something interesting to see or do at whatever hour she left the house. But here, with so few people and all of them forced to live in such close quarters, every day was virtually the same as the one before.
It didn't help that most of the townspeople found her very odd. They had admired her looks from afar, true, but most of them did not exert themselves to interact with her. They were all pure Dutch, and many had known one other back in the Netherlands. The girls Belle's age were either blond and simpering or hired Japanese servants with whom no one was permitted to interact. The one thing that brought the young people of the town together was Getsuru's demonstrations of his samurai skills, which generally happened whenever he could slip into the Dutch quarter's tavern. For some reason, the majority of the town found the arrogant young Nipponese amazing. It had taken Belle about 30 seconds after meeting him to decide that the best place to observe him was from as far away as possible. She disliked his cocky posturing and his clear belief that every female should swoon at the sight of him. He spoke Dutch well, testimony to the amount of time he'd spent illegally in the Dutch quarter, which was all the good Belle could say about him honestly. She had to admit that he was handsome, too, in a too-smooth-and-chiseled sort of way, and he was very quick with his sword. And for some reason, since she'd arrived he'd taken a liking to her and made a point to seek her out every time he was in town. Which was often. She only tolerated his poorly concealed advances because it broke the monotony of the days in town, and it gave her practice in deciphering the Nipponese accent.
Accidentally bumping into the Dutch quarter's sole bookseller on her second venture into town with Koru had been a blessing in disguise. Few in the town had the time or inclination for so profitless a pursuit as reading, so the bookseller himself was often lonely. He and Belle had become fast friends, and he was happy to loan her whatever books she desired despite the fact that she never bought one. True, the books were all in Dutch, which Belle read less well than French, but she managed. Her most recent book had been a treasure, a thrilling tale about a beanstalk and an ogre. But, she reflected, the reading is just one more thing that sets me apart. No other girls in the quarter spend half their time with their noses in a book; many of them can't read anyway. And yet I can't stop. If I didn't read I'd have gone stark raving mad already.
Empty of its human inhabitants, the Dutch quarter was glaringly tiny, just a few crisscrossings of European-style streets halting at the wall that separated the Dutch merchants from their Nipponese neighbors. Neighbors they might move within feet of and never see.
That, Belle decided as she surveyed the main street where all the shops were located, was what chafed her the most. When she had agreed to accompany her father to Japan, she had dreamed of excitement and adventure in an exotic land, seeing strange new people such as she'd read about in her books. But here they were, virtual prisoners in a miniature Europe, not even allowed to see the land in which they resided. She was startled out of her silent contemplation of the town streets by a cheerful call.
"Goede ochtend!"
Belle smiled and returned the Dutch greeting with a friendly "Bonjour!", but then she blushed, having forgotten that few here in this all-Dutch village spoke French. So unlike Brussels, where most people knew at least a few phrases. The baker's wife smiled kindly and said in Dutch, "It's all right, dearie. And where are we going today?" She handed Belle a steaming roll.
"The bookshop, as usual," Belle replied, grateful for the woman's generosity. Eager for conversation, she added, "I just finished the most wonderful story, about—"
"That's nice," the woman said. She might have said more, but her husband called from inside, "First orders coming in. Hurry up!" Nodding cheerfully to Belle, the baker's wife vanished back inside their shop.
Belle shrugged and hurried on as the town began to come alive. Expertly weaving her way through the knots of people streaming into the streets, she noted Getsuru was already present in the company of his close Dutch friend, a small man named Bram. She saw the two of them following her with their eyes and chose to ignore it, focusing on her destination.
"Ah, Bella! Goede ochtend!" The bookseller was just opening his doors when she arrived.
Belle smiled. No matter what she did, she could not get him to pronounce her name correctly. "Good morning," she returned in Dutch. "Here's the book I borrowed."
"What's this? You've finished it already? You are quite a reader, Mistress Bella." He took the book from her and replaced it on a narrow shelf.
"This story was so good, I simply couldn't put it down until it was finished," she assured him, her eyes already scanning the shelves. "Have you got anything new?"
"When the shipments come in maybe twice a year? Certainly not since yesterday," he teased.
"That's all right," Belle said, slightly annoyed with herself for forgetting once again she was not in Brussels, where the booksellers often had new books every week in a myriad of languages including Dutch, French, Flemish, German, and sometimes Danish or even English. Belle could only read French and Dutch, but she'd loved the look of the words on a page. Pulling her mind out of the past, her eyes fell on a book covered in a rich dark blue. "This is the one I want."
"That one, again? Child, you've been here a month and you've already read it at least three times!" Nevertheless, the elderly bookseller gallantly took the book from the shelf for her and brushed off some imaginary dust.
"It's my favorite," Belle admitted, running her fingers along the smooth binding. "Myth, legend, epic battles for glory and honor and all that. And it's set in the Nippon we can't visit, which makes it even better. That way, when I go home without seeing anything of this country I can still imagine I was able to visit it."
The bookseller eyed her shrewdly. "So you're another one who'd like to see life outside the walls. Let me assure you, my dear, it would be far too dangerous for a pretty thing like you to go outside the Dutch quarter. But would you like me to tell you a little story one of the Emporer's courtiers told me when I last traveled to Kyoto to sell more books to his Imperial Majesty?"
"I didn't know you'd been outside the quarter. I thought it was forbidden," Belle said, surprised.
"It is, unless by special invitation from the Shogun or, occasionally, the Emperor. Our Western books are much in demand by certain circles of Nipponese scholars, so I believe of all the merchants here I have been invited to court most often," the bookseller confided. "Now, would you like me to tell you the tale or not?"
"Absolutely," said Belle eagerly, settling herself against one of the high bookshelves.
"Well, they say there was once a magnificent castle, what they call an oshiro, in the deep forest not far from Nagasaki. No one is sure why the shogun had it built, or even whether he intended for anyone to live there. But supposedly it's nearly impossible to find. And the rumor is that a terrible monster resides there, ready to devour any travelers unlucky enough to stumble upon it."
"What sort of monster?" Belle asked.
"No one has seen it and lived to tell the tale," the bookseller said, in a dark and mysterious whisper. "They say it is served by a host of demons the Nipponese call onii, and it lives in as great a splendor as the Shogun himself. They also say that the Shogun's own son was devoured by the monster, nearly ten years ago."
Belle laughed. "How do they know all this if no one has ever seen the creature and lived? I've read of such things." She tapped the book she held in her arms. "They're nice to dream about, but stories like that rarely turn out to be anything but vivid imagination."
"Rarely? Have you ever come across one that was true, Miss Bella?" the bookseller asked, his eyes twinkling.
"Well, no," Belle admitted, "But I do like to think that buried somewhere in all the stacks of tales is one that might actually be true. That's why I like to read about them so much. Maybe someday I'll read one that truly happened and never know it."
The bookseller considered her carefully. "If you like it all that much, then keep it." He gestured at the book.
Belle was startled. "But, surely, sir…you can't just--."
"I mean it, child. It's nice to meet a fellow dreamer once in awhile."
"Well, merci beaucoup! Thank you very much!" Belle could hardly believe her good fortune. Her favorite book, all to herself! She'd had to sell all of her books in Brussels because of the cost of passage to Nippon. "Domo arigato," she added in Nipponese, making the bookseller smile.
"Do' itashimashite," he replied, giving the polite response for 'you're welcome.' He bowed her from the shop.
Belle was in such a daze of happiness that she barely remembered that she had to be heading home to help her father in his workshop. Here and there she wandered, buried in the glossy pages, hardly noticing the odd looks the rest of the townspeople were giving her.
Suddenly, the book was snatched rudely from her hands.
"Goede ochtend, Beru-san." It was Getsuru, leering at her. Bram stood silently beside him, running a hand nervously through his white-blond hair. Belle had gotten used to Getsuru's odd way of pronouncing her name by now. His Nipponese tongue simply could not wrap around the letter L. The few other Nipponese she'd met in her time in the Dutch quarter had been the same. The 'san' was their title for 'miss', 'mistress', or 'sir', depending upon whom they addressed.
"Bonjour, Getsuru. Bonjour, Bram." This time, she spoke French on purpose, hoping that it would hint to the two men that she did not want to talk. "May I have my book, please?" she added in Dutch.
Instead of handing it to her, Getsuru leafed casually through it. "How can you read this? It's backwards," he complained after a moment.
"Not to me," Belle returned, wondering what kind of books the Nipponese outside the Dutch quarter read. She would have loved to find out, but not from Getsuru.
"Beru-san, you really should pay more attention to things more worthy of your time." He casually tossed her new book behind him, right into a mud puddle. "Like me," he added when Belle glared at him. She dodged around Getsuru and Bram to fetch her book. She was careful not to look at them, but when Getsuru next spoke he was directly behind her. "I hear things in the tavern. They're all talking about you. And I agree with them: it's not natural for a woman to spend so much time buried away in dusty tomes. In Nippon, no woman outside the Imperial palace learns to read.
"How awful!" Belle exclaimed without thinking. "That's completely barbaric!
"You'll soon grow used to our ways. Then you won't long for Europe so much." Getsuru put a casual arm around her, and Belle stiffened. She knew a little of Nipponese customs: no man would dare such familiarity without the explicit consent of the girl he was courting. Clearly Getsuru was so confident in her adoration that he did not care if he offended her. She tried to wriggle free, but his grip was immovable. "I have an idea," he continued conspiratorially. "Why don't you and me take a casual walk—outside the Dutch quarter. I could show you around the real Nagasaki. A pretty thing like you shouldn't be confined to this little sink-hole."
There was nothing Belle would like more than to go outside the walls, but not in Getsuru's company. She had a fairly good idea where he'd take her. So she carefully extricated herself, inventing quickly, "I can't, Gesturu. I…I promised I'd help my father in his shop today. He's been very busy lately." In truth, Maurice had had very few things to work on in the past weeks, but Belle hoped that the white lie would aid her in escaping Getsuru.
Bram spoke for the first time. "That's not true. I heard him tell my father in church that with so many merchants in town it was going to take some time before he could sell anything."
Belle went rigid, trying not to blush at being caught in her fib. Her face burning slightly, she snapped, "How would you know if he received an order for one of his inventions since then?"
Getsuru had looked gratefully at his companion when the blond man made his comment, but quickly changed his tune at Belle's temperamental reply. "Yes, how would you know that?" he repeated, cuffing Bram sharply across the back of the head.
This abrupt about-face only served to fuel Belle's temper. She controlled it, barely. "I have to be going. Goodbye!"
At that moment, a small explosion rocked the street. Belle whirled around as dogs barked in alarm, cats meowed, and people cried out. Realizing the rising steam was coming from the roof of her own home, she paused for one final, significant glare before tearing up the street as fast as her legs could carry her. Then she promptly forgot all about the encounter as worries for her father's safety quickly replaced all other thoughts in her head.
Author's note: A quick word about Japanese pronunciation, since I have the feeling we're going to run into this several more times. As Belle has noticed, the Japanese language does not differentiate between the English "L" and the "R" sounds. In fact, the letter "L" does not exist in their alphabet when it is translated to Western letters. To get an idea of what this sounds like, practice slurring the two sounds together a few times until it comes out sounding almost as if you were going to say a word that begins with the letter "D". Hence, Belle's name would sound like Beh-du but be spelled Beru. Hopefully I haven't confused you too badly! If you're still confused, listen to someone whose first language is Japanese--speaking English. Listen for words that should contain an "L" sound. You'll get the idea pretty quickly. Other points of Japanese pronunciation I will attempt to explain on an as-needed basis, but this is one of the hardest concepts for Westerners to grasp when trying to learn to pronounce Japanese correctly without hearing it.
SamoaPhoenix9
