The Hell Screen (34 page)

“You are annoying the lady.”

And he talked like some schoolteacher. For an actor, Danjuro was certainly giving himself airs. Dancers and actors belonged to the lowest class and often had bad reputations. Tora sneered. “What lady? I was complimenting one of the dancers. As a rule they enjoy a bit of action on the side.”

Immediately the beauty whirled on him and spat in his face. “Dog!” she hissed. “How dare you insult me?”

Danjuro said sharply, “Don’t bother with him. He’s just some ignorant idler.”

She turned on Danjuro. “And what are
you,
to let this lout get away with insulting me?”

What a snooty bitch this one was! Tora’s interest changed to virulent dislike, and he hoped that Danjuro would put the woman over his knee later. He wiped his face on his sleeve and cast a baleful eye on the actor. “I guess,” he drawled, “he thinks he’s the grand chancellor himself and you the Kamo Virgin!”

The other man eyed him haughtily. “I am Danjuro,” he said, as if that explained everything, “and you have insulted my wife. Your ignorance about the status of actors excuses your behavior somewhat, but I suggest that you stop interfering where you don’t belong. Buy a ticket to the show if you can afford it.” He turned his back on Tora and started to lead his wife away.

Stung to the quick, Tora cried after him, “I’ll have you know that in my profession I deal with all sorts of people. When you’re working with the criminal element, you learn to spot a sham.”

They both turned to stare at him. Then the actor snapped, “Well, whatever you do, leave us alone!”

Satisfied that he had scored the final hit, Tora made his way across the room to the acrobats. They were taking a break. Hoping for a better reception, he approached the young woman who had smiled at him.

“Is it permitted to speak to you, little sister?” he asked cautiously.

She was sitting down cross-legged and had her arms raised to rearrange her hair. Tora admired a pair of taut breasts with an appreciative smile. Unabashed, she grinned up at him and said, “Sure, handsome. I saw your bout with Miss Plumblossom. You’re good.”

Tora sat down next to her. “So are you. I’ve been watching you, too. Could hardly keep my eyes off you, in fact. I’m Tora.”

She made a growling noise in the back of her throat. “A tiger, eh? I like it. They call me Gold.”

“It suits you. You are rare and precious, truly a fortune any man might desire.” He moved a little closer.

She had, no doubt, heard it before, but she giggled and batted her lashes at him. “What brings you here, Tiger?”

“Oh, I was looking for a place to practice.”

“What sort of work do you do?”

“I hire myself out to rich cowards. For protection.”

Her eyes widened. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

He laughed. “Not if you know what you’re doing. The stuff you do looks more dangerous to me.”

“Only if you make a mistake, or your partner does, and then you break a bone. It hurts for a while and you can’t work, but that’s all. The money’s good as long as you’re working.”

“But you’re really an actress, right?”

She nodded unenthusiastically. “I used to like acting, but things have changed. Master Uemon was all right, but he’s getting old and now he’s turned over the running of the shows to that bastard Danjuro.” She glared across the room and Tora followed her eyes. The actor stood talking to his wife and looking at them. “He thinks he’s the gods’ gift to acting,” Gold said bitterly. “And his wife’s a bitch. I saw her spit at you. What’d you say to her?”

Tora considered his answer carefully. “I asked her how long she’d been dancing, because she seemed sort of clumsy.”

Gold burst into a trill of laughter, but immediately stifled it, hiding her grin behind her hand. Danjuro and his beautiful wife were still watching them with scowls on their faces.

“You got that right,” said Gold. “She’s new and still learning, but she thinks she can order us around because she’s beautiful and Danjuro’s wife. It’s been worse since she got her inheritance. Now she’s ordering Danjuro around and talking about buying out Uemon. Can’t imagine why Danjuro picked that one when he could’ve had a sweet, pretty girl who would’ve waited on him hand and foot.”

Tora frowned. “You?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” she snapped. Then her eyes widened. “Wow! Here he comes, looking like the thunder god himself. I bet she sicced him on you. You’d better go. I can’t afford another black mark.”

Danjuro was indeed heading their way with a purposeful stride. Tora rose immediately. “I’ve got to see you again,” he begged urgently.

She looked panicky. “In the back alley. As soon as I can slip away,” she whispered.

Tora made her a bow, saying in a loud voice, “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Gold. I look forward to seeing your performance,” and strolled away.

Behind his back, he heard Danjuro asking angrily, “What did he want?” Gold’s reply was inaudible, but Danjuro came back with, “Keep your mouth shut about our business or I’ll see to it that you never work again.”

Tora wandered around thinking about the incident. He tried to approach some of the other members of Uemon’s troupe, but Danjuro’s warning to Gold had been overheard. They turned their backs on him or left with a brief apology. Something was not quite right with these people. He finally made his way back to Genba and Miss Plumblossom.

“It’s getting late, and I’ve got to get back,” he told the lady. “Thank you for the bout and for letting me look around.”

She winked. “Come back soon, my handsome fellow!”

Tora shuddered inwardly, but managed to agree enthusiastically before turning to Genba. “Ready to go?”

Genba scowled. “No.”

Tora nodded. Genba was acting like an idiot, but that was his affair, and Tora still had some business of his own.

Outside, the snow still fell, but more thinly and in large wet flakes. Tora looked at them morosely. The wind had died down a little, but it was no night for romantic cuddles in dark alleys. He found his way with some difficulty. The alley was a narrow thoroughfare between the blind walls of buildings. Unidentifiable debris cluttered his path and lay in piles against the walls. The thin cover of snow shed a faint, eerie light reflected by dirty plaster, and he saw a few narrow doorways like black slashes in the gray walls. Up ahead something moved. A darker shape detached itself from one of the black rectangles.

“Hsst! Tora.” Gold huddled against the cold in a thick wrap of some heavy dark material. “I haven’t got much time,” she whispered. “Danjuro’s having a fit. He thinks you’re a constable.”

“I’m not. And why do you let him order you about?” Tora growled, putting protective arms around the shivering girl.

She cuddled against him. “It’s not so easy to find another job. Uemon’s troupe’s got the best reputation.”

Tora managed to insert a groping hand under her wrap and found bare flesh. “Where do you live?” he muttered hoarsely into her ear. “It’s too cold out here.”

“Let go!” She slapped his hand away and straightened her wrap, giving him a stern glance. “That wasn’t very nice,” she scolded. “I’m not a common whore.”

Tora hung his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just... well, you’re really something, and I couldn’t help myself. I keep thinking about your body twisting through the air and bouncing about.” He swallowed and gave her a pleading look. “I meant no disrespect. It’s just... every part of me wants to hold you and touch you and—” He broke off and extended a hand to brush a loose curl from her face. She did not pull away, and he traced the lines of her face gently with his forefinger. “You’re the sweetest girl I ever met.”

She grew still, her eyes luminous in the light of the snow. Her lips quivered a little. “Oh, Tora,” she murmured. Then she flung herself suddenly back into his arms and whispered, “I want you, too.”

After a moment’s passionate embrace, Tora said urgently, “Where can we go?”

She wailed, “I don’t know. I have to go back to our inn with the others, or I’ll be in trouble.”

“What inn?”

“The Golden Phoenix. It’s near Rashomon. But you can’t go there. They keep an eye on us.”

Well, it would have to wait. Tora cursed inwardly and removed his hand from her breast, trying to control his baser urges. “Can you meet me tomorrow?” he asked.

“Maybe. Where?”

“I have a woman friend in the Willow Quarter.” He felt her stiffen in his arms. “It’s not like that,” he said quickly. “I once did a favor for her and she’ll let us use a room in her place. I know you’d rather not go there, but it’s the best I can do at the moment. I’m broke.”

“All right, Tora,” she whispered, burying her face against his neck and kissing it softly.

He groaned and let his hand reach for her naked breast again when there was a loud squeal of rusty hinges. She gasped and tore herself free.

Ahead a dark head poked out from the door of the training school, and a soft voice called, “Gold? Is that you? Danjuro and the others are ready to leave!”

The girl in Tora’s arms cried, “Coming!” then whispered to Tora, “It’s Miss Plumblossom’s maid. I’ve got to go. Tomorrow at this time? Where’s the place?”

Tora shrank behind a pile of lumber, pulling Gold with him and into his arms for another quick passionate embrace. Then he whispered instructions in her ear and let her go.

She disappeared into the building, but the door remained open. Tora waited in the shadow of the woodpile, but nothing happened. He peered cautiously toward the door. Through a crack between the wall and the edge of the door, he could see a bit of blue cotton with white fans on it. Miss Plumblossom’s pretty maid still stood there. Waiting to catch him? Why? Tora had a profound conviction that women liked him and that everything that happened, happened specifically to keep his life interesting. He moved from the shadow on soft feet and rushed the door. Pulling it wide, he seized the girl, and drew her out, placing his hand over her mouth. She struggled wildly in his arms.

“Shhh,” he whispered in her ear. “Don’t shout. It’s me. I’m not going to hurt you, my pretty. I just want to talk to you. A lovely thing like you has no need to spy on other girls.” She stopped struggling.

He was about to remove his hand from her mouth when she bit him hard. With a curse he released her. She jumped back inside, but for just a second before she slammed the door he saw her face and recoiled in horror.

* * * *

A Taste of Ashes

When Akitada entered his study, the short, rotund figure of his brother-in-law was sitting on a cushion by his desk cheerfully sipping wine. As soon as Toshikage saw Akitada, he arranged his face into suitable gravity.

“Good afternoon, Brother!” he said with a bow. “I hope you don’t mind my waiting in your room. Seimei brought me some warm wine. Please have some. It takes the chill off the weather. You look frozen.”

“Good afternoon, Toshikage.” Akitada touched his face and ears. They were icy. Preoccupied with his family troubles, he had forgotten to turn up his collar against the wind. He untied his hat and went to warm his hands over the glowing brazier, then held them over his ears. The cold had given him a headache. “You are always welcome here, Brother,” he said to Toshikage, who filled a second cup with wine.

Akitada had become fond of his brother-in-law, but his presence here today struck him as ominous, because of Yoshiko’s threat of leaving. Apparently she had been serious. The situation left him utterly helpless. His solemn resolve to take care of his family had already ended in the first failure.

Toshikage extended the wine cup. Akitada attempted a smile and drank. Toshikage was right. The wine, sweet and mellow to the tongue, lit a fire in his belly. He felt marginally better. All day he had been as tightly strung as a bow, afraid that his self-control would shatter. He rubbed his temples, waiting for the headache to recede.