A Scandal in Edo

“It is done then?”

“Indeed, sir. They are at the inn known as the Cypress Trees as we speak.” Yoshida’s grin did not fade, nor did it convey any true mirth. “If sir does not mind, our own transaction has come to an end.”

Rujian-no grunted assent and passed over another wrapped packet of silver tales. They were in a dim corner of the drinking establishment that the procurer frequented for such transactions.

It occurred to him that Yoshida was a little too discreet. And Kururugi’s uncle and lord were high-ranking enough to have scandals vanish before they could fester properly. Such a trivial matter would be swept under the mat in no time and the brat would come out unscathed.

After a few cups of sake, the samurai realised that what he really wanted was not just embarrassment for the interfering brat and his kin--he really wanted to see Kururugi bleed a little. All right, he wanted to see him bleed a lot.

But this would not come to pass unless he took action. Unless he could draw attention to this little affair and blow it sky-high . . .

* * * * * * * * * * * *

On the way back, Luluko bumped into a familiar set of faces, totting their props and drums as usual.

“Luluko-san! You weren’t with your elder sister today.” Naruse the drum dancer, singer and musician had hailed her in the middle of the street. He was referring to Oshiitsu, who had been performing that night. Luluko knew that in all probability, shape-eyed Naruse knew she was not Oshiitsu’s “little sister”.

Murmuring something about another appointment, Luluko switched the subject by asking where Oshiitsu and the others were.

“They should be just behind us. Had to entertain one more song request even though it was almost ten,” Naruse said, his tone full of censure for inconsiderate patrons. “If you like, we could wait for them?”

“Yeah! We sometimes go for a drink afterwards,” Tamaki chipped in and then shrank back slightly from Naruse’s withering glare.

“Very infrequently, in an unofficial capacity,” Naruse said. “Nothing bad or scurrilous, despite the impression given.”

“What he said!”

“I think I will go back home. Thank you for your offer, Naruse-san.” While things had turned out the way they had, she was not inclined to face Oshiitsu and the other two so soon. They might not say anything, but their eyes would question.

“So formal . . . we do forget our manners sometimes when we’re amongst our own,” Naruse said. “Mori, take my drums. I’ll see the lady home and meet you all later.”

“I don’t want to trouble you--” Luluko demurred.

“No trouble, there are unsavory characters afoot these days,” Naruse said, casting a wry look at the mixed bag of performers. “Other than these scoundrels, I mean. You live just east of Asakusa Kannon?”

In the end, Luluko was walking next to Naruse, for he kept slowing down so that they would be level. “It’s not as though people are looking at us now,” he said, nodding at the blank wooden back walls of the street they were walking through. “Protocol can wait until we reach a main thoroughfare.”

“Eh . . . Naruse-san? Can I ask you a question?”

“Is it about men? Because I do know something about that,” Naruse said cheerfully, watching her expression change. “Your hair, Luluko-san, is at odds with your very nice kimono. Most men would have no idea of how to get it back to what it looked like before, but with your hair, I think you should go for simpler styles.”

There was not much light illuminating the street, but Luluko thought her face was probably glowing like a torch in the darkness. She was learning that she should be more careful of Oshiitsu’ friends--especially this one.

“But something’s wrong with this picture,” Naruse said. “Unless this man is totally inept at hair and yet can tie an obi perfectly--”

“It wasn’t like that,” she muttered. With some prodding, she told an extremely edited tale of the past few hours.

“You know what, Luluko-san? I don’t know if you’re disappointed or not that it fell out that way, but at least he seems decent,” Naruse said. “Some men--”

He paused abruptly and held up a hand to stop her as they came to a junction. A moment later, she heard it too--footsteps coming down the street around the corner. Naruse motioned her back into the shadows of the wall.

It was a group of men, just over half a dozen of them if her hearing was accurate. They were not the official night patrols or doushin. Then one particular voice caught her attention.

“--but I cannot guarantee their whereabouts now, good sir. Unless we go back to the inn--” That was the procurer--Yoshida.

“Then we’ll wait for him along the way to the Nishninomaru. He’ll have to pass by on the way back,” a gruffer voice interrupted. “What was he wearing?”

“Sir, this is highly irregular--”

“Just tell me!”

“Under protest, sir. Very plainly dressed. Dark-coloured hakama. carrying daishou, no hat.” Yoshida sounded harassed.

“That could be anyone,” another voice said.

“But very few samurai would be returning along that road so late. We’ll wait for the brat then and strike when he least expects it.”

“My part here is done, sir, I take my leave of you--”

“Take yourself far away if you know what’s good for you.”

The short exchange and the footsteps faded away after a few moments.

“Now those are shady characters,” Naruse muttered as they emerged from the side street carefully. “I think I’ve seen some of those men in the Yoshiwara before.”

“What do they do?”

“Nothing much. They’re bravos for hire, thieves and the like,” Naruse said. “And the procurer is a slimy bit of business--”

“That man, the procurer--he was talking about--” Luluko broke off and started to hurry back down the way they had come from.

“Yoshida? Luluko-san! Where are you going?” Naruse had to chase after her.

“I’m going to warn him--”

“Who is he supposed to be--oh . . .” Naruse caught up with her at the next turn. “But do you know where your man is?”

“He said he was going somewhere in Fukugawa to visit someone!”

“Oi, oi, surely it’s easier to find him when he’s coming back than running all the way to Fukugawa?”

“You’re right . . .” Pausing in her headlong dash, Luluko realized that she was not really thinking straight. She had no idea where he was. And she could not cover all that much ground on her own--

“Help is on the way,” Naruse said, going on ahead. “All we have to do is find the others now and we’ll all search for him!”

Bewildered, Luluko ran after him. “But I can’t ask you to get involved--”

“I’ve never done a heroic rescue when it’s the girl trying to save the boy before! You have to give this poor actor a chance to live out a real life drama!”

“Are you drunk?”

“No--more’s the pity. Ah, there they are.” Naruse pointed ahead. The rest of his drumming troop and assorted performers waved at them.

“All right, who’s up for a heroic rescue?”

“Naruse, are you taking the piss?”

“Luluko! What in the world is happening?” Kallen popped up at the back. Oshiitsu and Kaguya pushed their way forwards.

“We’re going to help Luluko-san track down her young man, who may be in danger from suspicious characters,” Naruse announced grandiosely.

“He doesn’t look like he’s been drinking . . .”

“Luluko, what is he babbling about?” Oshiitsu asked, leaning closer to the visibly out of breath girl.

“I--I’m trying to find him, Suzaku-san--before he reaches the Nishinomaru . . . Some men are waiting to ambush him . . .” Breathing hard, she rested her hands on her knees. Time was surely running out . . .

“Are you sure?”

“I heard it with my own ears--those men were up to no good!”

“You’re an actor, Naruse, you exaggerate everything,” Oshiitsu said. “Well then, what are you going to do? Naruse might make pretty speeches, but he’s absolutely useless in planning anything other than a play.”

“You wound me--”

Ignoring the others for the moment, Luluko stared at the ground, thinking hard. She did not even know what the area near the castle looked like. “Does anyone know how to approach the Nishinomaru from the east?”

“I do. Not so useless after all, eh?” Naruse said, bending to scratch out a rough map with the end of his fan. “There are three bridges over the moat from the city proper on the east side of Edo Castle. Assuming that your young man is coming from Fukugawa, he would probably be passing through Edobashi--”

“Which is only the most densely populated neighbourhood in the city,” Oshiitsu pointed out.

“If we cover the main roads from the east to the three bridges, it can be done.” Luluko looked around the motley crew of performers and realised that most of them looked as excited as Naruse. “I mean, if you--”

“Of course! People are a lot less suspicious of actors running around at odd hours. We’re rootless, disreputable types,” Naruse said. “We’ll split up into three groups and go from here.”

“Ignore him. This probably is the most interesting thing that’s happened to them in a long time,” Oshiitsu murmured to Luluko as Naruse started organising.

It took a few more moments to actually arrange a more practical plan with a description of the person in question, fixing on a meeting point to gather at three hours later and divide themselves into search parties. Kaguya declared that the ladies would take the roads leading to the northernmost bridge and dragged Luluko off with them.

“Kaguya-san, you seem very sure,” Luluko said as they hurried south towards the Yamanote.

“I have a very strong suspicion that we’ll find him first this way.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Women’s intuition?”

Oshiitsu rolled her eyes and Kallen snorted.

“Oh all right--by your description, he’s my cousin Suzaku,” Kaguya said, holding up her robes in both hands in order to match Kallen and Luluko’s longer strides they left the familiar environs of Asakusa. “And the address is about right. He serves one of the lords living in the Nishinomaru”

“Your cousin?”

“Such a strange coincidence . . . you’ll have to tell us all about it, but first we have to save him so that I can embarrass him and hold it over him forever,” Kaguya said.

Luluko tried not to notice as Oshiitsu and Kallen looked hard at her.

* * * * * * * * * * * *