The Street of a Thousand Blossoms (51 page)

Haru rushed to her class, her books heavy in her arms, her cotton blouse wet against her back as she hurried across the square. She’d lost track of time reading in the library, and now her botany class had begun and she would have to sneak in quietly, again. Now in her third year at Nara Women’s University, Haru was certain that she wanted to study botany. It was the persistence of plants that had won her over, how they persevered under the most difficult situations. She thrived in their tenacity. She smiled to herself thinking how she’d told Hiroshi-san she would study science, even before she realized what she was saying. Perhaps her mind knew before her heart did. And what had he said—that science was full of surprises? He couldn’t know how right he’d been. Hiroshi seeped into her thoughts during the quiet moments. He was becoming quite the sumo star. The times Haru returned home to Tokyo felt different now. She’d begun to worry about her father, and especially Aki. While her father remained preoccupied with his work, her sister grew even more restless. When she’d asked Aki what was wrong, she only shrugged and said, “I can’t wait to grow up.” She hated school and couldn’t wait to graduate. But the biggest change Haru saw was in her sister’s appearance. Or did the distance simply make her see it more clearly? Each time she left and returned, Aki seemed to resemble their mother even more.

Haru slowly opened the door to the lecture hall, cringing at the sharp whine. A few students turned her way as she scrambled up the steps to a seat in the back row.

“Domo arigato
, Miss Tanaka, for joining us this afternoon.” Professor Ito’s voice accosted her just as she reached her seat. She felt the eyes of the entire classroom on her.

“Sumimasen,”
she apologized, the blood rushing to her head. “I’m very sorry to be late.” Haru bowed quickly, and didn’t dare look up at Professor Ito with his rumpled suit. She put down her books and slid into a chair.

For the rest of the lecture, she heard very little of what was being said, ashamed that Professor Ito had singled her out, even when another student rushed into the lecture hall after her with no consequences. For the first time since coming to Nara, Haru wished she were somewhere else.

“Miss Tanaka, I’d like to see you a moment after class,” Professor Ito called up to her as they were leaving. Haru rolled her eyes and stepped aside, letting the other students pass by. First, he embarrassed her in class, and now he wanted to lecture her more. She watched him bow his head to each of the departing students, thinking how his Western-style gray suit looked too large on him, noticing that his hair was already thinning on the top of his head, and that his dark eyes weren’t as penetrating as the other girls had remarked. The only thing she did agree with them about was that Professor Ito didn’t look older than thirty-five.

When the room emptied, Haru made her way down to him in careful, measured steps. He was putting the last of his papers into a briefcase and closed it just as she reached his desk.

“Ah, Miss Tanaka,” he began, looking at her from behind rimless glasses. “I was wondering if you’d be interested in assisting me in the class next term. Mainly reading papers, checking notes, that sort of thing? It pays very little, but I believe you’re one of the few students who can actually comprehend what I’m saying.”

Haru hadn’t expected a compliment and a job offer. She held her books tightly against her chest as she ruminated over the question.

“You needn’t give me an answer now,” he added.

“No,” Haru blurted out. “I’d like the job very much. I’m very grateful for the opportunity.” She bowed low and rose to meet his gaze.

Sho Tanaka drank down the green tea. The Sakura teahouse was quiet; it was too early for customers to trickle in and fill the rooms with their loud laughter and errant voices that grew edgier as more sake was poured and the night wore on. He liked the stillness of late afternoon, the emptiness of the banquet room as he sat alone at the long table. His thoughts fell into order and made more sense. It was at the Sakura he first saw Noriko, in this very same room where he still felt her presence. He grasped at memories that blurred around the edges, not recalling the exact words or the season in which they’d taken place.

Through the shoji window a slant of sunlight had fall across the tatami and the entire room felt aglow. He looked up when Yasuko-san, the mistress of the teahouse, entered wearing a dark cotton kimono. Toward evening, she would change into a colorful silk embroidered one and assume her hostess role. She’d known Sho since his sumo days, and Noriko even longer, since she was a young
maiko
who came from Kyoto to entertain at the Sakura. In many respects, she had been Noriko’s elder sister and had grieved as a family member at her death.

As an old friend, Yasuko never questioned why Sho arrived early and sat in the banquet room alone. She always brought him tea and left him to his thoughts. Only this afternoon, she paused and knelt down beside him. “Perhaps you’d like something stronger?” she asked.

Sho smiled and shook his head. “I still have work to do later.”

She made a soft sound. “But I have just the thing to go with your memories.”

He watched as she rose and left the room. For so many years, Yasuko had remained his closest confidante, and so much of his own history began here. The teahouse had belonged to Yasuko’s family for generations, and just after the war when her mother passed away, Yasuko had taken over running it. While the war years were desolate, the occupation years were prosperous for her, with American soldiers frequenting her teahouse nightly. After the occupation, when Japan began to prosper again,
Japanese businessmen returned to their old ways of relaxing at teahouses and Yasuko’s business soared.

The Sakura was also the place where Noriko returned the one and only time she was so angry with him she abruptly left the house. The girls were little and already asleep. Rather than wake them, she simply walked out the door when he came home late again after a night of drinking. He sobered up quickly and worried as the hours passed and Noriko didn’t return. It began to rain heavily and he couldn’t leave the girls alone and go search for her, so he waited and was given a humbling lesson. When she finally did return in the early hours of the morning, Sho, who was half-asleep in the reception room, quickly stood up as he heard the front door slide slowly open. Noriko stepped in quietly, her kimono soaked. He learned later that Yasuko had wanted her to stay until the rain stopped, but she insisted on returning home.

She bowed quickly when she saw him.
“Sumimasen
, I’m sorry, I needed to—“ she began, shivering from the cold and wet.

But he didn’t allow her to say another word. He bowed low to her, wiped away the water that dripped down her cheek, and took her hand.

“Ah, here we are,” Yasuko said. She returned holding a bottle, which she placed in front of him with two glasses. “Some expensive American whiskey,” she said, smiling. “It was given to me by the famous general himself!”

Sho looked at her and laughed. “ Iie, no!”

“Is this not the most famous teahouse in Tokyo?” She knelt down beside him and poured the whiskey into the glasses. “To friendship!” She lifted her glass against his and drank.

He followed.

“And how are the girls?”

Sho drank down the rest of his whiskey before he answered. “Haru-san is doing fine in Nara.” He paused.

“And Aki-san?”

“She thinks she’s in love with Takanoyama,” he blurted out. It had been troubling him for weeks and he felt better saying it aloud. Did they think he didn’t notice the little dance that was going on between them? However harmless, Hiroshi was on the brink of becoming the next
ozeki
champion, and he didn’t want anyone or anything to disturb his concentration, not even Aki.

Yasuko laughed. “Is there anything wrong with that? Aki is becoming a young woman and has always been so different from Haru. She’s better off married early so she can settle down. Takanoyama is already a big star.”

“It isn’t the time,” Sho said, too abruptly. “She’s too young.”

“You of all people should know that love doesn’t pick a time. It comes when it comes.” She smiled, filling their glasses again.

“Maybe I should ask Haru to return?”

Yasuko-san shook her head. “And what, make both of your daughters unhappy? Take Hiroshi-san aside and talk to him. Remind him what this upcoming tournament means. After he becomes champion in a year or two, Aki will be waiting for him.” She sipped from her glass and watched him.

“When did you become so wise?” Sho asked.

Yasuko sighed. “You think I haven’t heard this story before? Every night, it’s a different story. I’ve lived my life saying the right things and look where it has gotten me.”

Sho leaned closer to her and breathed in the sweet scent of narcissus. He felt the heat of the whiskey move through his body. “Yasuko-san, it has made you one of the most powerful women in Tokyo.”

“And what does that mean to me?” she asked. “In the end, I’m alone.”

He heard the weariness in her voice and it filled him with sadness for both of them. She was still a very beautiful woman. There was once a moment when he and Yasuko had found comfort together. They had Noriko in common, which in the end became the reason they didn’t stay together. He watched her drink the rest of her whiskey before pushing herself up from the cushion.

“Have as much as you like,” Yasuko said, gesturing toward the bottle. “It only makes me feel melancholy to drink such expensive
liquor. Don’t worry, everything will work itself out,” she consoled him with a quick smile.

Sho stood and bowed to Yasuko, then watched her leave the room, a strand of hair trailing from her chignon.

Hiroshi had expected it to be Sadao when he heard a knock on his door, only to see Tanaka-oyakata waiting when he slid the shoji door open. Hiroshi bowed low to his coach.

“Hiroshi-san, I was wondering if you had a moment to talk. There’s a private matter I’d like to discuss with you,” he said, bowing back.

“Yes, of course, Oyakata-sama,” he said, stepping aside. The two of them filled the small room. He watched his coach brush the top of his head with the palm of his hand.

“I wanted to talk to you about Aki-san,” he said, his voice deep and steady.

“About?”

“About your interest in her,” he answered.

Hiroshi looked away in embarrassment. Had his feelings been so obvious? He hadn’t thought further than wishing for a quick glance of her each day. He hoped for more in time. “Aki-san is a friend,” he finally said.

“Hai,”
Tanaka said. “And I hope it will remain that way for a little while longer. Hiroshi-san, you’ve worked hard to reach this point in your career, more so after your injury. You’ve achieved what most
sumotori
only dream about. Sponsors are eager for the outcome of your upcoming
basho
. It’s an opportunity I’d hate to see you lose because you were distracted.”

Hiroshi cleared his throat. “And you believe I’ve been distracted?”

Tanaka paused before he said, “As your coach I’m here to remind you that if you’re to become
ozeki
, champion, and perhaps even
yokozuna
, grand champion, your mind and body must be focused on only the tournaments. Do you understand?”