1.2

  Asako bit her lips together and gave a single nod as her mother retreated. A weight pushed on her chest, a heaviness so intense she feared her body would collapse. Tears streamed down her cheeks, as her mother gave her one slow final bow, before turning and shuffling back in the direction they had arrived from, her posture more decrepit than ever.

  Asako turned her attention to the man. While her mother had taken her leave, he had swung a cane basket onto his back and wrapped a white towel around his forehead and greying hair. She surveyed his clothing. His yukata was earthen-coloured, and his leggings stopped just above the knees. Thick muscles bulged from his calves as though river stones were trapped under the skin’s surface. His heavily tanned face looked older than the body it sat on, and his front teeth were intact.

  “Hello. My name is Tanaka. Please follow me,” the man said, bowing before her.

  She looked around, seeing nothing and no one she recognised. She had no choice. She’d promised her mother, and so she fell in behind him. Keeping up was no easy task. He strode off at a rapid pace, despite the sizable basket he was hauling on his back, only to have to repeatedly turn and wait for Asako to catch up. She was soon thoroughly lost, and even if she had contemplated it, backtracking would have been an impossibility. He stopped outside a merchant’s shop and waited for her to catch up.

  “Wait here,” he commanded before stepping through the split half-curtain in the entrance.

  She peered in after him through the gap in the half-curtain, spying books laid out on low tables. Her family hut had never contained even a single book, so it puzzled her to think she’d work there.

  “Let’s go,” he instructed once he’d exited the shop.

  “Not here?” she murmured.

  “Here?” he said, his face transforming into a grin. “No, we’re leaving Edo,” he said, raising an arm to a vague point in the distance. “Your new life will be in the hills. Three days walk from here, starting now.”

  He immediately set off, then turned and backtracked on realising she hadn’t moved so much as a muscle.

  “Three days?” she echoed, incapable of imagining that people did such things. “Yes, it’s a long walk; we must start now. Do your best.”

  He set off at a quick pace, walking as though he could already see his destination, and try as she might she could not keep up with him. The gap between them extended until she completely lost sight of him after he crossed a narrow bridge. Lost, she stalled, incapable of moving either forward or backwards. All around her, people shuffled by, but it was only when Tanaka’s thickset legs re-entered her field of vision that she raised her eyes. He knelt, bringing his face level with hers.

  “Asako san, I apologise. My mind is in a rush, and my body is following it. Your mother told me your name is Asako?” he framed it as a question. “She told me that you are seven years old, that you are strong and that you are a diligent worker. You are small for your age, but that could come in handy. I can see you’re malnourished. Your nose is very wet and you’re listless. But you need to summon your strength and come with me. You must do your best. You can’t return to your family now. Do you understand?”

  She gave no reply.

  “Are you hungry? Have you eaten today?”

  She shook her head.

  “That won’t do. If you can walk some way further, we will come to another bridge. Big Bridge. There we will pause, and have something to eat.”

  She nodded. Her mother had spoken along those lines. Food to eat. Was it all about food? Her sense of hunger was constant, so she’d gladly accept any morsels offered her way.

  They recommenced, this time at a slower pace, Tanaka relenting his natural walking rhythm to Asako’s condition. The dusty streets began to widen as merchant shops and food vendors gave way to larger dwellings. She sensed that the Big River was somewhere to their right, still running, forever running, to destinations she’d never seen. Before long, the Edo Castle keep, sitting high and watchful above the town, slipped out of view as the buildings that had stood on either side of the road gave way to a rural landscape. She found herself surrounded by fields and was stunned by both the vast expanses of open land and the dense patches of trees, some of which stood at magnificent heights. Canals and side roads soon ceased crossing over the route, indicating that they were on the main road in and out of town. Occasionally they would pass fenced compounds, within which she could see large buildings, but Big Bridge was still nowhere to be seen. She realised then that Tanaka’s sense of distance was vastly different from her own, which filled her with dread at the prospect of how long the journey might become.

  “Move to the side,” Tanaka commanded, snapping her thoughts back to the path. She gazed up at him, noting a sudden sternness in his eyes, and then looked past him, up along the road. She gasped, knees buckling, while her hands groped the air in front of her. Tanaka gripped her shoulders, his arm strength every bit as strong as his legs, and guided her to the side of the road. He then tugged her down into the grasses that lined the path and made her kneel with her arms prostrate before her. There they waited, ears attentively tuned for the approach of marching feet.

  “Down, down, down,” came the call from the front runners, commanding everyone on the road to clear the path and bury their heads.

  Asako, once the first set of legs drew level with her position, instinctively edged further away from the road. Then it felt as though the sun paused its transition across the sky as everything surrendered to the stamping feet of the endless samurai army. It was only once the final scrape of the last sandal had receded beyond the audible range that Tanaka gazed up. He instructed Asako to do the same, only to find that she was shaking like an autumn leaf in a strong breeze, someway behind him.

  “You can get up,” he said.

  “Samurai,” she stammered, raising her head.

  “Indeed. You’ll see many of them on this route. Are you scared of them?” he asked. She nodded. She’d seen several samurai as she’d walked the streets of Edo that morning. However, they’d all seemed placid, appearing to wear their swords for ceremony only. By comparison, she had little doubt that the marching samurai army, with their guttural voices, would have cleaved her head from her shoulders if she’d so much as glanced at them.

  “It’s probably a good thing to be scared. But listen, do what you just did, and things will be fine. Do you understand?” he asked, peering at her. As he helped her to her feet, his face screwed up as the stench of freshly excreted urine filled his nostrils. He turned his head from her and cursed. Then, rubbing his hand over his towel-covered head, he glanced up at the sun’s position in the sky.

  “Probably the hour of the monkey,” he muttered. “Listen, just a little bit longer, you understand?” he said, watching her for reaction. She nodded and joined the road behind him. They carried on, until, upon entering another wooded area, he guided her off the road.

  “Asako, I need you to listen to me. I am your father now. Do you understand?” he asked, scanning her eyes. “As such, you need to do whatever I tell you to do, even if you don’t like it.” He waited until she nodded. “So, let me explain. The town we are leaving, Edo, is a garrison town. That means lots of samurai, and not many women or girls. As such, it is difficult for females to leave Edo. And even if you want to, you’d need a travel pass, like this,” he said, producing a small wooden token from inside his yukata. “Now, I have one for me, but not for you. So, by rights, I shouldn’t be able to take you out. However, that is what I’m going to attempt to do, and I will succeed if you can help me. Once out, things will get easier, but for now, I’m going to need to smuggle you out in my basket.”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “What?” Asako replied, her eyes flicking from him to the basket he’d laid at his side.

  “If the guards see you, they will think you are someone of value, like the daughter of a daimyo, a leader, who I am trying to sneak out. So, you must hide. Luckily you are small. Exceedingly small for a seven-year-old, if your mother was telling the truth about your age. I will place you in the bottom of the basket and put my belongings on top to conceal you. The packages of books are a little heavy, but it’s not for long. Do you understand?” he asked.

  She nodded in reply.

  “So, you’ll get in?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Asako,” he growled, lowering his voice. “You must get in. If you don’t, I’ll be forced to leave you here, and in two days you will be dead. You’ll be food for foxes—or worse. You told me you understand that I am your father, so I tell you now for the last time, get into the basket!”

  “No,” she replied, her eyes reddening. He slapped his hand down on the ground, then reached to his left foot and slipped off his sandal, holding it tightly in his right hand above her head.

  “Asako, stand up and get into the basket or bad things will happen. Please, trust me, get in and then over the bridge, we’ll have a snack.”

  This time she did as he commanded, deciding that getting in couldn’t be as bad as being slapped over the head with a sandal, or mauled by a fox.

  She curled up in the bottom of the empty basket and allowed Tanaka to cover her with a blanket, on top of which he lowered some wrapped personal goods and a solid package of bound books. The items weren’t heavy, but beneath it all a claustrophobic crush bore down on her. Her breathing became shallow and rapid and her yukata damp with sweat. She quickly realised she could peek out from the narrow cracks in the basket’s woven walls, but this did little to ease her anxiety. Tanaka gingerly raised the basket onto his back and made his way back out to the path. They passed out of the woods, and Asako soon saw that buildings were closing in on either side of the path. She saw flags bearing a crest emblem draped along a wall on the roadside, the crest design displaying a circle enclosing three leaves.

  The crests filled Asako with dread. She imagined countless eyes behind the wall were ogling at her in the basket.

  “Not a sound now, Asako,” she heard him whisper as he joined a line of travellers. She held her hands over her dry mouth as he reached the front of the line, but to her relief, he was quickly ushered through, without so much as a second glance at the basket. They passed through the gate, and then out onto Big Bridge. Asako, still in darkness, felt acutely aware of the tonal change of Tanaka’s footfalls transitioning from the dirt path to the bridge’s wooden slats. Peering through the gaps in the weaving she gazed downstream into the distance, knowing that somewhere beyond her vision, at the river’s edge, stood her village and home.

  “Just a little further now, and I will find us a place to rest,” he whispered, picking up his pace.

  Before long she felt herself being eased to the ground and the blanket over her was thrown back. She instinctively shaded her eyes, only to discover that their surroundings were dark and secluded, deep in a thicket.

  “You did well,” Tanaka said, lifting her out. “I don’t think I’ve been that scared in all my life, but in the end it was easy,” he said, breaking into a toothy grin. “I know you’re hungry and most likely you are thirsty, so we will rest here and refresh a while.” He passed a bamboo flask to her. The water was warm and tasted dry, but she still swallowed in gulps.

  “And now some food,” he said, reaching across to reclaim the flask. “You’re hungry, right?”

  He picked up one of the wrapped cloths which he’d taken out of his basket and opened it to reveal two items wrapped in dried leaves. He handed one to her.

  She pulled back the wrapping to expose a compacted brown rice ball.

  “For me?”

  “Yes,” he replied.

  She held it to her nose, enjoying its aroma before taking a nibble. However, she immediately gagged and spat the morsel up onto her lap, unaccustomed to its salted flavour.

  “No,” Tanaka bellowed, raising his hand to strike her, but stopping when she flinched. “Sorry. But what’s wrong? Why did you spit it up? This is precious, don’t you know?” She nodded.

  “Was the taste too strong? Well, you’d best get used to it. Eat, or you’ll starve to death like you appear to be well on your way to doing. Take it slowly, and hold it down,” he instructed, his voice still tense.

  She obeyed, taking small bites and ensuring she swallowed each last grain. Finishing long before her, he stood and glanced back towards the road while arching his back. When he next turned around, she was still less than halfway through the rice ball but was already feeling bloated.

  “We should go,” he said, gesturing for her to rise. “Asako?” he asked when she didn’t move.

  He stood before her, hands lowered and waited.

  “Not again,” she eventually replied. “No basket. Please,” she whimpered, with her eyes on her feet. “That’s fair enough. Listen,” he said, lowering himself to her level. “I know how you feel. Everything is out of your control, and you don’t like what’s happened to you. You’ve been taken out of Edo, and now you’ve crossed the river so the town is shut to you. It’s beyond your ability to return. But look, you might not believe it, but I’ve felt that way too. Powerless and battered. Intensely so, but life went on. And your life will go on too if you can trust me. I’m taking you to your new family. You can start anew.”

  He received no reaction. Her thoughts were too distant from his well-intended words. She was seeing her bent, sun-spoiled mother, with her gummy smile and worn-out hands, bustling about inside their hut. Then her mind looked further back, to her papa, that broad-chested man with his large calloused hands, his strong embrace and his thickly-bearded face, the face she’d stroked, the head she’d cradled. The head she’d cradled, she thought again, until she glimpsed in her memory a tunnel back to that day. That dark, hellish day. The horror. Sensing her emotions surging, she snapped her thoughts away, twisting her face as she forced herself back to the present.

  “Okay. I go,” she whispered, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

  “Good girl. We’ll walk on now; make some progress and then stop for the night.”

  They pushed off together, Asako soon realising that it wasn’t just the thicket they’d been in that had darkened the light, but the day in general had grown dim. They carried on in an upward trajectory, even after the sun had set and the daylight had all but slipped away. She walked in silence, even as the teeth on her geta sandals started catching on uneven patches in the path. Glancing at Tanaka, she expected him to announce a plan for their rest, but if he had an idea in mind, he wasn’t forthcoming with it. Eventually, she noticed a flickering light ahead. It danced hauntingly in the light breeze, filling her with trepidation, a feeling that Tanaka clearly wasn’t sharing. He pushed ahead, and she had little choice but to follow. The light that had spooked her soon resolved into the flame of a stone lantern. It was the marker for the post-town that stood behind it, shrouded by the evening’s dim light. Single-story wooden tea shops and inns lined both sides of the route, with light leaking out of their windows to illuminate the road. People were congregating together outside some of the buildings, but Tanaka bypassed these groups, guiding Asako directly towards an inn that he’d clearly had in mind.

  Inside, they sat together on the floor at a low table in a room bustling with strangers. Tanaka kept her close to his side as he ate a meal of rice and preserved pickles, sharing with her all she could eat. They ate quickly, Tanaka seemingly keen to leave the rowdy environment. He led her to a communal sleeping room, lay her down by the wall on the one mattress he’d rented and pulled in close at her side, with an arm draped across her. As exhausted as she was, she was unwilling to sleep. The fragrant scent of the tatami flooring, the hard pillow and the unpleasant feel of the man at her back set her every sense on edge. Each time the room’s door slid open and another occupant entered, her senses writhed. She listened, quietly pleading that the room’s newest occupant might be a hunched-over middle-aged woman, who might call her by her name, reassure her that everything was a mistake and whisk her back to her riverside hut. Or a man, a bearded man of great breadth, who would sweep her off her feet and hold her aloft. She resisted that thought before it could get a grip, before the tears could well in her eyes.

  Eventually, the steady rhythm of Tanaka’s snoring on her neck soothed her resistance and she drifted off to sleep. She had no idea she was asleep until she awoke screaming, her body drenched with sweat, her pulse racing and the room around her almost utterly dark. There were no longer any footsteps in the hallway outside the room, and all about her she could hear breathing and make out the sleeping forms of many bodies. But she was awake, woken by her regular visitor, the nightmare. The horror.

  “Asako, child. You’re okay. Sleep now,” Tanaka’s weary voice whispered behind her, followed by a light hand coming to rest on her shoulder. She didn’t turn to the voice, but lowered herself back to the mattress and shut her eyes.