Musashi - Eiji Yoshikawa [247]
“You’ll really come?”
“Why, yes, of course.”
“The name of the inn, it’s the Zuzuya, in front of the Rokujō Avenue monastery.”
“I see.”
The casual manner of his reply was not enough for Akemi. She grabbed his hand from the railing and squeezed it passionately in the shadow of her sleeve. “You’ll really come, won’t you? Promise?”
Musashi’s reply was drowned by a burst of belly-splitting laughter.
“Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Oh! Ha, ha, ha, ha! Oh …” Kojirō turned his back and walked away as best he could in view of his uncontrollable mirth.
Looking on acidly from one end of the bridge, Jōtarō thought: “Nothing could possibly be that funny!” He himself was disgusted with the world, and particularly with his wayward teacher and with Otsū.
“Where could she have got to?” he asked again as he started tramping angrily toward town. He had taken only a few steps when he spied Otsū’s white face between the wheels of an oxcart standing at the next corner over. “There she is!” he shouted, then bumped into the ox’s nose in his hurry to reach her.
Today, for a change, Otsū had applied a little rouge to her lips. Her makeup was somewhat amateurish, but there was a pleasant scent about her, and her kimono was a lovely spring outfit with a white and green pattern embroidered on a deep pink background. Jōtarō hugged her from behind, not caring whether he mussed her hair or smeared the white powder on her neck.
“Why are you hiding here? I’ve been waiting for hours. Come with me, quick!”
She made no reply.
“Come on, right now!” he pleaded, shaking her by the shoulders. “Musashi’s here too. Look, you can see him from here. I’m mad at him myself, but let’s go anyway. If we don’t hurry, he’ll be gone!” When he took her wrist and tried to pull her to her feet, he noticed her arm was damp. “Otsū! Are you crying?”
“Jō, hide behind the wagon like me. Please!”
“Why?”
“Never mind why!”
“Well, of all—” Jōtarō made no attempt to conceal his wrath. “That’s what I hate about women. They do crazy things! You keep saying you want to see Musashi and go weeping all over the place looking for him. Now that he’s right in front of you, you decide to hide. You even want me to hide with you! Isn’t that funny? Ha— Oh, I can’t even laugh.”
The words stung like a whip. Lifting her swollen red eyes, she said, “Please don’t talk that way. I beg you. Don’t you be mean to me too!”
“Why accuse me of being mean? What have I done?”
“Just be quiet, please. And stoop down here with me.”
“I can’t. There’s ox manure on the ground. You know, they say if you cry on New Year’s Day, even the crows will laugh at you.”
“Oh, I don’t care. I’m just—”
“Well, then, I’ll laugh at you! Laugh like that samurai a few minutes ago. My first laugh of the New Year. Would that suit you?”
“Yes. Laugh! Laugh hard!”
“I can’t,” he said, wiping his nose. “I’ll bet I know what’s wrong. You’re jealous because Musashi was talking to that woman.”
“It’s… it’s not that! It’s not that at all!”
“Yes it is! I know it is. It made me mad too. But isn’t that all the more reason for you to go and talk to him? You don’t understand anything, do you?”
Otsū showed no signs of rising, but he tugged so hard at her wrist that she was forced to. “Stop!” she cried. “That hurts! Don’t be so spiteful. You say I don’t understand anything, but you don’t have the slightest idea how I feel.”
“I know exactly how you feel. You’re jealous!”
“That’s not the only thing.”
“Quiet. Let’s go!”
She emerged from behind the wagon, but not voluntarily. The boy pulled; her feet scraped the ground. Still tugging, Jōtarō craned his neck and looked toward the bridge.
“Look!” he said. “Akemi’s not there anymore.”
“Akemi? Who’s Akemi?”
“The girl Musashi was talking to…. Oh, oh! Musashi’s walking away. If you don’t come right now, he’ll be gone.” Jōtarō let go of Otsū and started toward the bridge.
“Wait!” cried Otsū, sweeping the bridge with her eyes to make sure Akemi wasn’t lurking about