Hentaigana: The Flower of Edo, Chapter One, Part II

[imaginarystories]

"Ishi, bring her some tea and a bowl of barley."

Bowing awkwardly to Yoshi, Momori croaked out something almost like thank you. Her knees shook as Ishi went into the back of the shop.

"And bring a damp cloth!" Yoshi yelled towards the workroom door. Turning back to Momori he scowled again. "Let's get that stuff off your face. Is that charcoal?"

"Ran out of dye," Momori tried to shrug the matter off. "I just covered up the white spots in my eyebrows."

"You look like a kabuki actor," Yoshi replied. "With a drunk makeup artist."

"Go choke on a donkey cock."

"Is that any way to talk to your employer?"

"You're not my employer. I'm freelance."

"And with a mouth like that, you'll never be an employee."

 

Swaying again, Momori sat down on the edge of the shop floor, keeping her sandaled feet outside on the boardwalk. Settling down next to her, Yoshi looked closely at Momori's face. Judging by his expression, she wasn't a good sight.

What else was new?

"What's Ishi supposed to be working on?"

"Helping Shun pack. Kodai House's publisher ran off when the lockdown was ordered. Took his employees, printing woodblocks, and personal possessions. Left owing rent, too. So I'm block superintendent now. Landlord-san was here this morning, left just before you showed up. He promised that the nightsoil collectors would be here today."

Well, that explained why the big shop next door hadn't opened yet. In the last days of the siege it seemed like most of the city had fled to escape the oncoming armies. Escape would have been even more urgent for Kodaiya's owner and employees, since they'd chosen to back the losing Southern Alliance.

And really, Kodaiya's owner had been pretty lax. Yoshi already did most of a block super's work. But... "Can you afford a bigger shop?"

"We'll see. It won't be easy, but we'll see."

Anything else Yoshi might have been about to say was cut off by Ishi's return.

Dropping the stenciled sheets on the shop floor, Momori grabbed the tea and barley from Ishi. She dumped the tea into the bowl, pushed the cup back at Ishi, and then shoved her face into the bowl.

"I brought chopsticks!" Yelled Ishi. Momori grabbed the utensils from the boy and started ramming wet barley into her mouth.

"Breath," Yoshi advised. "The food's not going to run away."

Choking down food as fast as she could, Momori barely tasted the mash of barley and tea. Yoshi said something about hungry cats that Momori ignored as she half-chewed the mash. She hardly noticed when Ishi returned, and barely struggled when Yoshi took the wet cloth and started dabbing at her face.

"Owsh," she grumbled around the last mouthful of mash, as Yoshi cleaned her bruised left eyebrow. Yoshi ignored her.

"Hey," said Ishi. "I read a manual of manners that says you should recite 'I humbly accept' before eating."

Handing the bowl back to Ishi, Momori glared at the boy's father as he continued to wipe her face. "Is that Buddhist shit? It sounds like Buddhist shit."

"I think so."

"Well the temples are crawling with soldiers and the last monk I saw was getting free dentistry from a couple of cops, so I'm not taking any advice from Buddhists."

Momori yelped in protest when Yoshi grabbed her nose with the cloth, pressing at the edge of her bruise. "That hurts, you know!"

"Hold still," replied Yoshi. "Your face is covered in mush."

Ishi said in the slightly-nervous slightly-teasing tone of someone who knew they were about to poke a nerve. "Where's your makeup?"

The cloth moved on to Momori's cheeks, scrubbing away at the remains of breakfast.

"Ate it this morning. With a pickled radish."

The cloth paused.

Ishi's mouth went round in childish shock. "What?"

"The radish was nice. Sort of sweet."

"Oh. When did you run out of real food?"

"Yesterday morning."

Finished, Yoshi handed the cloth to Ishi. "You should have stayed with Kōmi. Ishi, go help Shun, please."

The widow Kōmi lived in Yoshi's rowhouse block. She and her two young sons ran a small toy and novelty shop just inside the block's front gate. Neither Yoshi or Kōmi showed any interest in remarriage, but had an informal arrangment to keep one another company.

"She has two sons."

"They're both younger than Ishi."

Momori looked across the street, to where the local shops were starting to open. Watching the shopkeepers with her, Yoshi didn't press the matter of Momori and Kōmi.

"They're late," Yoshi grumbled. "But I suppose they're not missing any business this morning."

"At least half the city ran off," Momori replied.

"Including four families in my block." Yoshi sighed. "It's all merchants and artisans now. Who knows when the samurai will be back. And everyone is worried about prices these days, or they want news of the war or the new government. So for the next few days at least, until people get bored of it, I want stories about the markets. You're my best gossipmonger, get me gossip about what's available, what it costs, what else might be coming in. Don't worry about the art, Ryōga can do that. We can fill out the market gossip with war stories, who's in with the new government."

"Or out."

"Don't bother. With that amnesty decree someone who's out now might be in a year from now."

"Right." According to the army messengers running up and down the streets for the past two days, the Chrysanthemum Throne and its new government had decreed an amnesty for rebellious lords and their followers. Momori would be willing to bet that if it had been commoners who'd risen up, everyone within fifty miles of the fighting would be tortured to death as rioters.

"What about my humour stories?"

"Don't worry about those. You really are my best at digging up rumours. And Ryōga is better at funny pictures."