Nothing More Precious

For someone of her size and girth, Hatsumomo moved quickly. I calculated that she packed her trunks with the contents of her room within hours of our conversation. The following morning, her room was empty, and the contents of her closet were gone. No doubt she took some of the more expensive obi and kimono that the okiya owned. The consummate survivor, no doubt Hatsumomo thought this offer of shelter was too good to be true, and she intended to profit from it.

Perhaps she thought that if she did not take the chance now, it would be gone forever. Thus, she was gone at first light. Whatever her thoughts were, she was out of my hair for the time being. I had accomplished what I set out to do. Hatsumomo and her blossoming stomach were out of my immediate eyesight, and I had hurt Nobu.

Hatsumomo was packed away safely in the country. Such an opportunity was truly a golden egg in Gion Kobu. Even Mother, with her hoard of cash had not been able to bribe any officials with papers for a living place outside Gion. It was only a matter of days before she and Auntie were going to have to report to the factories to work. When that day came, I would be going with them. This was something that Nobu never wanted for me.

With my peasant background, I knew I could handle the work. Although the years living and working as a geisha may have given me soft hands and a willowy figure, I had worked as hard as my older sister Satsu before our mother passed. Hard work was in my blood. I wasn't afraid of the days to come and the drudging existence of factory life.

I was afraid, however, of Nobu's anger.

Were it not for the war, I would have feared for my life. I could well imagine Nobu-san storming into the okiya and threatening to hang me with my obi for what I did. His anger was a toxic whirlpool I had long avoided. But I had done it. I had betrayed him in the greatest manner that I knew. I put the very thing that I knew he valued above business connections and company building. I had put myself in danger.

The Americans were steadily bombing Tokyo, and it was expected that any day, Kyoto would be next. Because of this, travel was largely suspended. The last I heard from Nobu, he was in Osaka, settling business with the government over the building of bullet casings. His note had been more brief and terse than usual. But he wrote that I was not expected to hear or see him for the next six months.

In the note he had given me instructions to go to Arashino before the closing of Gion. Enclosed was enough money for travel, as well as a stipend for my extended stay with Arashino. I slipped this money under Hatsumomo's door before she left. No doubt she would make good use of it.

In a strange way, I had the war to thank for this liberation. Not only was Hatsumomo gone from my life, but I salvaged my pride from this whole debacle with the Chairman and Hatsumomo. It was not much, but in this life I had very few things that I could call my own. My pride was one of them. Allowing Nobu to use our relationship to protect the Chairman's indiscretion was something that I could not bear. Had I been older, perhaps I would not have gambled with my very existence. But water ran inside me, strong and reckless.

With practiced hands, I helped Auntie rip up old kimono to sew into work clothes for the factory. Cotton was impossible to get, and we had little in the way of practical clothing. The only thing we had at our disposal was our kimono. When the time came for us to line up to get into the factory each day, the younger women competed with each other to see who had the most stylish and vivid silk work clothes. Even Mother showed up, proudly dressed in loose silken trousers that previously served as a kimono to a young meiko.

For a while, it was alright. The comaderie of the other women, along with the repetition of our tasks, made life seem bearable. Even Auntie, with her pronounced limp, was able to get through her work, heavily aided by mother or myself. Singing with the other women, I could forget the weariness in my shoulders and the hunger in my stomach. The geisha I had previously encountered before somehow became more human in the factory. With our faces bare of make-up, and the rivalry gone, we could smile at one another and joke like sisters. Even the women who had been Hatsumomo's staunchest friends soon became friendly with me.

We were all suffering the same existence. There was no need to add old wounds and fabled competition to our current misery. From dawn until dusk, we labored in the same way. We wore our fragile silk until they were grey rags. Our beautiful white tabi socks became permanently dingy from the dust and soot of the factory. Our hair, no longer in waxed positions, hung unwashed in braids or buns. Soap was a luxury unheard of. Mother's hoard of cash became bribes to officials engaged in the black market so that we could eat better than most. But soon, even rice became scarce.

Still, we gave away most of what we had to each other. Mother was optimistic that we would survive the war and that Gion would go on as before. Old relationships and rivalries would resume after the war. Mother wanted to be certain that she would not lose any status should she survive, thus she shared what we had. Friends and enemies profited alike.

"Someday," she said one night, while we setting out our sleeping mats in the dining room, "this war will be over, and men will return to wanting what they had desired before. Pretty women and good company." Mother laughed. Auntie nodded her head in compliance. She was setting out her sleeping mat next to mine. It cost too much money to heat the upstairs. We all slept in one room for warmth.

"Let us hope though that the government keeps your Danna in a position to earn money!" Mother cackled. "I thank the gods for our continued existence, but I also thank them for sending Sayuri a wealthy Danna."

"May the gods keep him that way after this war is done," Auntie muttered as she laid down on her futon. I said nothing. It was my only wish that Nobu-san survive the bombing.

"You should wear gloves when you work," Mother admonished. She was looking at my hands as I brushed out my futon roll. They were dry and cracked, with cuts all over my fingers. With our supplies growing more scarce, there was nothing I could do to moisten them or to treat the lingering cuts. All my lotions and oils were long gone.

"All the other girls have the same hands."

"Most of those girls don't have a danna waiting for them after this war" Mother huffed and reached under her futon mat. She kept a large wad of cash under her mat in case of emergencies. Many times we were roused from our beds when the bombs started falling on the factories. Mother lived in constant fear that the okiya would go up in flames and she would be without any hard cash.

"Tomorrow I will go and see what I can find on the black market. Your hands are a disgrace! They are probably scarring even now. You will scare away the customers." She licked a finger and began counting out paper yen.

"Please don't use our money on my hands," I begged. "It would be better spent on food." Beside me, Auntie's thin body was shaking with a coughing spell. Mother and I helped her whenever we could, but the hard work was taxing on her body. She had been coughing steadily for the past month and looked especially haggard and thin. I knew that she was not getting enough to eat.

Mother screwed up her mouth and gave me a long look. "You always had too much water in you, Sayuri. Long ago, I told Auntie that this was not an admirable quality. The problem with you is that you never think far enough ahead. You are our continuation after the war." She shook her head. "Our survival depends on you looking pretty, my girl. I don't care if they call Nobu Toshikazu Mr. Lizard, a geisha can't entertain with hands like those."

I said nothing.

"You have heard nothing from him?" Mother asked, as she laid out a stack of money next to her futon. I shook my head.

"I wouldn't worry, men like Toshikazu are survivors. He already lost an arm. The last war left him intact enough." Mother's reasoning was cold and uncomforting. I laid my head on pillow and pulled the cover over my body. Auntie continued to cough. I was waiting for Mother to put out the lamp.

"Let's hope that his fortune will be intact after all is said and done" Mother said, finally done counting. She leaned over and blew out the light.

I curled up under the covers in the darkness. I could hear Mother shifting on her futon, searching for a comfortable spot. Beside me, Auntie still labored with her cough. Unbeknownst to them, my hand stole inside my pillow and retried the star comb that Nobu had given me. Like Mother, I lived in fear that the okiya would burn down in the night from a sudden bombing. The star comb was only thing that I was determined to save in case that happened. Nothing could compel me to part with it for money. Thus, I kept it a secret that it was hidden in my pillow.

My fingers wrapped gently around its shape, I prayed for Nobu's safety.