5 Monkey 1169
Like any bad news, the tale of our less-than stellar performance at the party raced to the ears of those who sit above us. It didn’t help that Seppun Denjiro himself was at the affair, ready to bear witness to our lack of readiness. He was at Kitsuki Atsumori’s house the next day to speak with Bayushi Tatsuo-sama. From there, it was a quick jump to Isawa-sama. Hiruma-san, like a dolt, attempted to listen in and I, like a bigger dolt, did not stop him. Always try to compound error with error, I always say.
So, it was finally my turn. Isawa-sama invited me…to tea. I can only presume he did this because that is how Bayushi-sama brought him in for chastisement. It could also be because it is painfully obvious that I haven’t the first idea how to behave at a tea ceremony. I sat quietly and stared at the tea bowl, awaiting my doom.
“Bayushi-sama has instructed me to punish you.”
I mercilessly wrestled down my sarcasm. “Hai, sama. What do you intend to do?”
“I don’t know.”
It was only at this point that I looked up at him. His expression was this odd mix of confusion and fear. In between my bouts of self-pity, I had figured he would take the opportunity to make a big show of how he was in charge, but it turned out his honor was a little sterner than that. He knew that he was being ordered to punish me for something I did on his behalf and he was really lost on what to do next. I took a minute to collect my thoughts and then came up with something sneaky.
“When students needed to be punished at Dojo Raiden, where I was trained, they were often sent to work with the peasants who labored in support of the Dojo. I believe the Kitsuki’s goyo shonin is terribly overworked these past few weeks.” Alright, that was not completely accurate – Dojo Raiden students worked with the local peasants whether they were in trouble or not – troublemakers just had to spend more time in rice fields. On the other hand, I’d been looking for a way to accompany Tohaku, the house’s official procurer, on a shopping trip for a while.
Isawa-sama looked perplexed for a moment, but then nodded. We finished the tea ceremony and I was sent to get to work.
Poor Tohaku. Here he was, presented with a samurai assistant for the week, and the man cannot divine what to do with me. How do you direct someone who, by law, may cut you down in the street for failing to be properly subservient? I offered to act as a porter while he went shopping and we set forth. I had not been into the marketplace since I had moved to the Dragon district and it took me a little bit to get my bearings, but I soon had the run of the place. Tohaku’s not a bad goyo shonin; he just suffers from the same drawback every peasant does – a lack of in-depth education. Unless you come from a prominent merchant family, you end up having to learn the art of the deal as you go. My grandfather was a canny enough merchant to deal with the Seppun and my father keeps the Mantis well-provisioned in the Imperial Harbor, so I have a few advantages in that regard. I made note of Tohaku’s negotiations and how much he was paying for what. I also watched what others were paying. When we returned from the shopping trip, I dropped off the bushels of rice and made a list of a few deals I had figured on our walk. Tohaku took the information with suspicion (and probably a bit of umbrage, but house merchants can ill afford pride) but he took it, all the same.
With any luck, he should be able to make the overburdened Kitsuki’s coin stretch a little farther. I’d noticed a week ago that they’d been reduced to periodically eating millet in order to make sure there was enough polished rice for their nine samurai “guests.” That makes me more than a guest; it makes me a burden. I will not be a burden.
So, one task down…then the Yakuza decided to stick their nose in where it doesn’t belong.
(Picture belongs to El Fotopakismo on Flikr and is used under Creative Commons. Original here.)
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