Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [207]
“Oh? Can you think of anyone who would want to suggest that a man had been in the House of Virgins?”
“Yes, I can. As a matter of fact, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” “Does it concern me in some way?”
“Well, I don’t want you to feel bad about it, but it’s like this. There’s a samurai who has taken me to task for putting you in the same dormitory with the shrine maidens. He says he’s warning me for my own sake.”
“Have I done something that reflects on you?”
“There’s no reason to be upset. It’s just that—well, you know how people talk. Now don’t be angry, but after all, you’re not exactly a maiden. You’ve been around men, and people say it tarnishes the shrine to have a woman who’s not a virgin living together with the girls in the House of Virgins.”
Although Arakida’s tone was casual, angry tears flooded Otsū’s eyes. It was true that she had traveled around a lot, that she was used to meeting people, that she had wandered through life with this old love clinging to her heart; maybe it was only natural for people to take her for a woman of the world. It was, nevertheless, a shattering experience to be accused of not being chaste, when in fact she was.
Arakida did not seem to attach much importance to the matter. It simply disturbed him that people were saying things, and since it was the end of the year “and all that,” as he put it, he wondered if she would be so good as to discontinue the flute lessons and move out of the House of Virgins.
Otsū consented quickly, not as an admission of guilt, but because she had not planned to stay on and did not want to cause trouble, especially to Master Arakida. Notwithstanding her resentment at the falseness of the gossip, she promptly thanked him for his kindnesses during her stay and said that she would leave within the day.
“Oh, it’s not all that urgent,” he assured her, reaching out to his small bookcase and taking out some money, which he wrapped in paper.
Jōtarō, who had followed Otsū, chose this moment to put his head in from the veranda and whisper, “If you’re going to leave, I’ll go with you. I’m tired of sweeping their old garden anyway.”
“Here’s a little gift,” said Arakida. “It’s not much, but take it and use it for travel money.” He held out the packet containing a few gold coins.
Otsū refused to touch it. With a shocked look on her face, she told him she deserved no pay for merely giving flute lessons to the girls; rather it was she who should be paying for her food and lodging.
“No,” he replied. “I couldn’t possibly take money from you, but there is something I’d like you to do for me in case you happen to be going to Kyoto. You can think of this money as payment for a favor.”
“I’ll be glad to do anything you ask, but your kindness is payment enough.” Arakida turned to Jōtarō and said, “Why don’t I give him the money? He can buy things for you along the way.”
“Thank you,” said Jōtarō, promptly extending his hand and accepting the packet. As an afterthought, he looked at Otsū and said, “It’s all right, isn’t it?”
Confronted with a fait accompli, she gave in and thanked Arakida.
“The favor I want to ask,” he said, “is that you deliver a package from me to Lord Karasumaru Mitsuhiro, who lives at Horikawa in Kyoto.” While speaking, he took two scrolls down from the set of staggered shelves on the wall. “Lord Karasumaru asked me two years ago to paint these. They’re finally done. He plans to write in the commentary to go with the pictures and present the scrolls to the Emperor. That’s why I don’t want to entrust them to an ordinary messenger or courier. Will you take them to him and make sure they don’t get wet or soiled on the way?”
This was a commission of unexpected importance, and Otsū hesitated at first. But it would hardly do to refuse and after a moment she agreed. Arakida then took out a box and some oiled paper, but before wrapping and sealing the scrolls, said, “Perhaps I should show them to you first.” He sat down and began unrolling the paintings on the floor before them. He was obviously proud of his work and wanted to take a last