When I was a boy, Yasu would swim with me in the river and propose we play a game. Looking back, we never realized the dangers of it- nor did our parents. But I hardly think they ever noticed! Yasu would hold my head under the current and count, slowly, making me stay under for as long as possible. Sometimes Izumi would spot our antics and come rushing down, pulling me out from the water, sputtering and laughing.
Why I'm thinking of these particular memories, I'm unsure. My hand shakes on my lap; I clench it in an attempt to get it to stop, but it doesn't work. The driver warns me we are only a minute from the Ichiriki. Part of me wants to snap at him to turn around, to take me home so I may sleep- sleep, which I so desperately long for! But of course I can't do that.
After all, Sayuri will be there. And somewhere in the long stretch of the night, perhaps I will set things right again. I have spoken to Mrs. Nitta over and over again when the person I wanted to hear was probably praying to be saved from me by the very same man I cannot bear to face.
The driver stops; I snap at him that he should park further along and slam the door (I'm surprised that it didn't fall off). I feel the need to take a deep breath of the air before I enter the teahouse which I should feel familiar with by now.
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It's a small room, as I have requested. Nothing big and fancy- that's exactly what I hate, and I am not a stupid military man any longer. I have no need for such pomp and circumstance that will only be witnessed by four people! I've only been kneeling for perhaps no more than fifteen minutes when I hear a stirring behind me. I don't dare turn to see who it is- for all I know, it's just the mistress! I clear my throat and turn my head only a little so I can see.
Of course I was right. It indeed is the mistress; but I can see, just a little past her, a woman in a black kimono.
"Nobu-san!" the mistress greets. "I am grateful to see you here again, after so many weeks!"
"Although I'm sure you know the nature of why I am here." I respond shortly, and she nods, her little mouth forming into a circle.
"Of course, of course, of course." She has the most strange way of speaking I have ever heard, a sort of mumbling out of the side of her mouth like she is meaning to whisper to someone invisible that is beside her. "What a wonderful alliance, wouldn't you say?" Alliance? Am I going to war with someone now?
Mameha comes in next and smiles curtly, but not unkindly. There is a heavy silence before, finally, she enters and kneels beside me. I clear my throat again and look pointedly at her; not at the kimono, or the hair ornaments, but her. Those lovely eyes flicker in my direction before resting on the tea cups in front of us.
I take the smallest sip of tea possible before handing it to Sayuri; our fingers hardly even touch, yet she jumps and drops it! I am to be the danna of a dunce it seems- I might as well have called for Pumpkin instead. I slam my fist on the table and glare equally at Mameha and the mistress- I'm grasping at straws to blame anyone for anything.
"Well, at least there are only two left." I hear Mameha sigh.
The ceremony itself, as it turns out, was not really a ceremony at all- just another ridiculous geisha custom that involves demurely sipping tea a couple of times. I might as well have fallen asleep somewhere along the line and no one would have even noticed. I tell Sayuri so as we exit the teahouse.
"I'm sure in the business world, there are just as many silly customs, Nobu-san. I believe it is called signing a contract." She glances around anxiously. Her voice is low, and she seems skitterish, like a deer. "If I may ask, Nobu-san, where is the car?"
"Just up there, Sayuri. I can't have it stopped right in front of the teahouse now, can I?" I shake my head.
Of course the night is not totally silent. I spot a couple of geisha shuffling towards a teahouse, glancing over their shoulders curiously at the two of us. They duck their heads together and whisper rather dramatically, before hiding their little mouths behind their hands.
"If you had any decency," I shout as I yank open the door, "you surely would be able to come up and say it!" Sayuri gives a little squeak at this is she ducks inside- probably embarrassed. One of them stops and watches me.
"Mr. Lizard," she finally calls. "Don't tell me you're taking a little girl back with you to the cage! She'll turn green and grow scales, you know. You better be careful with the girls you bring home!"
It's a rather weak comment that is trying to hurt; most likely she was formerly friends with Hatsumomo. I only feel the urge to laugh. "No, but I would be glad to escort you back to the Miyagawa-cho." She's been drinking too much sake, as has her little friend. Most likely they won't remember they even saw me, much less spoke to me- with women like them, particularly geisha, I say whatever I like and care less of the consequences.
Once more I slam the door shut and pound my fist against the back of the man's seat. He starts, as if he had been dozing all this time, and anxiously starts the car.
Sayuri says nothing or a moment until we pass the two geisha, tripping and laughing as they fall over the curb. "One of them is Korin," she comments flatly. I grunt, unsurprised.
The ride to my home is uncomfortably silent. The driver leaves; Sayuri watches him go, and once more I'm struck at the idea that she probably does not want to be here. I lead her over the little stone steps and hold open the sliding door for her- it's about as chivalrous as I will ever be.
Hesitantly, Sayuri removes her shoes and steps up the platform, sucks in her lips anxiously before exhaling. She's looking around silently; the walls are utterly bare and there is no hint of any sort of reverence for any sort of religion. She glances back at me before shuffling in a bit more.
"It seems rather large for one man." She comments in a rather strange way to break our silence. "It must be so uncomfortable for you. Even my okiya seems too big, and I have more people than you!"
I laugh. "Money buys many things, Sayuri." It almost seems as if the exchange in Tokyo has been forgotten, buried, never to be touched. I watch her wander about- she's delaying what she knows will happen in any way possible.
Then she comes upon the chadansu, the cabinet holding eating utensils, in the living room. The handkerchief is on top of it, next to a small photograph of my sisters.
She runs a hand over it slowly. I watch from the doorway, my hand tightly gripping the wooden lattice. "You kept it," her voice holds a trace of cold accusation, maybe even anger.
"What was I to do with it, you left me with it like a fool!" I accuse, leaning my head wearily against the frame. She opens her mouth to respond before I cut her off. "No, I will here nothing from you-absolutely nothing- until you decide to tell me why you gave it to me!"
Of course now she refuses to look at me, just wrings the stupid little item in her hands before letting it fall back onto the top of the chadansu.
"And perhaps you will explain to me why you are such a cruel man, Nobu. Will you be a cruel danna as well?"
What is she saying? I push myself away from the frame and come towards her, resting my hand on her shoulder. "I am not a cruel man, Sayuri." I lean in close, whispering into her ear. Her eyes are trained on the little photo- Izumi, looking motherly and too old for sixteen; Yasu, cheerful and bright at ten, unknowing of her fate; and a boy, unscarred and at the age of five trying to hide behind his sisters-"I am honest, I work hard, I lead a good life. Never have I been cruel to you."
She breaks away and faces me finally, her grey eyes shining. "Then why did you throw me to Mr. Schessler?" she cries. I gape at her.
"Throw you? We discussed this already, I am not the one manipulating others' words in order for-for-"
I don't know what to say, but for once I am too tired to argue. Seeing the little photo makes me feel old and exhausted, and how much I want to slump against the wall and sleep. Sayuri is waiting for an answer, but I have none. Instead, my hand grasps her wrist tightly, so tightly there will be a slight imprint by tomorrow morning; there is still a distance between us, just enough, seeing as I don't even trust my own temper. I feel rage and fatigue grow in my head as my eyes bore into hers.
"Tell me, Sayuri," I breathe, "How you truly feel about monsters."
She does not try to move away, as she did before. Nor does she avert her eyes or give an artful, well thought out response. My legs are about to collapse beneath me; the room spins, but I can see her clearly as a vision. I lick my lips, awaiting her answer. The silence is growing to a dull roar, I can hear Yasu laughing at me somewhere in the deep regions of my memory. I see the Chairman watching us from behind the chadansu, Mr. Schessler with his hands on her waist.
"I-" she looks at my hand, then back at me-"-love you."
I love you. Did she say this? Or am I really ill? "You, you cannot-" I gasp, and she shakes her head, placing her other hand on top of mine.
"I do!" she trembles. "I love you, Nobu."
I feel myself sliding to the floor, my hand slipping from hers.
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When I awake, I find it is morning- morning already. There's a heavy weight on my chest, but when I look down I see it is her. Her cheek rests against my neck, and there's a putrid smell in the air. I adjust myself carefully, so not to wake her, and find I must have gotten sick somewhere in my episode last night.
I look down at her once more. There is no way she is possible- she'll probably return to the okiya so hunched over they'll have to stick a pole in her to straighten her up again. Her little hands rest against my stomach, legs resting on top of my own.
Nothing happened in the course of the night, of course. But as I place my one hand on her shoulder and pull her close, I just barely feel the ghost of a kiss on my cheek, the memory of the three words she spoke to me. I close my eyes slowly and rest my chin on the top of her hair.
There is no better time to be alive than now.
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Author's Note: This is DEFINITELY not the end, which I'm sure a lot of you gathered by the "End of Part I" I used previously. But I got to one of the important parts, right? –wink- Don't worry, there will be more to come in this little tale…