Reverence of a Ronin

By Bree M. Lewandowski

"A great and mysterious event occurred. Religious talisman came fluttering down out of the empty sky. Men dressed as women. Women dressed as men. The town's people dancing through the village. The villagers cavorting in towns. Whole populations drunk. Orgiastic behavior in the streets and paper talismans falling from the Heavens, like cherry blossoms in the wind. The world was coming to an end. A new one was apparent." ~ Iwakura Tomomi.                                                                                                                   

                                                                       

 

    Western winds blow revolution across Japan as Emperor Meiji seeks to modernize his country. The changes, the whispers of siege and war in retaliation, sweep over Ono Aia. Her small world, wound and bound like the kimono around her body, revolves around the geishas she serves and the geisha she hopes to be. 

 

      But upheaval cannot be stopped. Aia is flung into the arms of a swordsman with obsidian eyes and a blade that can cut more than mortal flesh. His name is Nen.

 

   At his side, not only does Aia learn of a mythical realm beyond human comprehension, she learns where her heart may truly lie. Perhaps it is not in the study and perfection of the geisha tradition. Perhaps, it beside a man larger than life. His size terrifies and thrills her. His black eyes dazzle and delight her. 

 

      But the spirits of Japanese lore could destroy man's reality. Can the fates of the mortal and fantastical world remain in balance? Or will Aia find her heart only to lose it in the uproar? 

 

Lose yourself in the sweep of this historical fantasy romance from author Bree M. Lewandowski!

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bree M. Lewandowski
• Release date: Jan 31, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201768447

Book preview

Author’s Note

This book has words native to the period and country. They are denoted by numerical superscript. At the end of this book is a glossary including all those words in numerical order as they appear in the text.

A great and mysterious event occurred. Religious talisman came fluttering down out of the empty sky. Men dressed as women. Women dressed as men. The town’s people dancing through the village. The villagers cavorting in towns. Whole populations drunk. Orgiastic behavior in the streets and paper talismans falling from the Heavens, like cherry blossoms in the wind. The world was coming to an end. A new one was apparent. ~ Iwakura Tomomi.

Nagoya, Japan. December 3rd, 1868.

CHAPTER ONE

If Okaasan ¹ knew Aia found her sister two hours before dawn, white paint smeared from sweat and facial oils, red paint a gash across her mouth, and embroidered silks rumpled it would mean a lashing across the back of her thighs. Luckily, the slumber Aia had fallen into, lulled by the wind’s call outside the okiya, ² fell away as the coiling scent of a burned-out candle lingered beneath her nose.

Lurching forward, she snuffed the wick and hurried to find Yui.

The request had come in late the night before. Generally, Okaasan did not allow her girls to be sought after a certain hour. They were geishas, not harlots of the red-light district, at beck and call. Okaasan’s girls were the embodiment of the ideal geisha, a living flower, to be admired and carefully kept.

Yet, the winter had been difficult. Japan was now open to trade from the West and the nation did not agree. The word change was whispered like a curse and an oath, all at once, on the streets. Of late, it seemed those who opposed it most spoke with the loudest voices and their discontent had begun to distort change into challenge. Would centuries of an Imperial Court crumble away, like dusty scrolls of so much useless history? And for what? For the West to blow more of their meat-tainted breath over their pristine mountains and fields?

Men with nobility enough to make their voices heard swore to protect Japan from such pollution.

War. All of it meant war.

Nothing about war was safe for living flowers. However, appetites now satiated with blood lust and pride no longer required delicate evenings of conversation; yet the okiya needed customers. So, Okaasan sent Yui out two hours after sunset, telling her to remember how thin dinner had been. And because Yui was the closest Aia would have to a maiko³ sister in her training, it was her job to make sure Yui was taken care of.

Her slim form lay on the floor, her futon⁴ still rolled and serving as a pillow. Some of the pins holding her hair had been yanked out and strewn across the room. Others still plunged deep, lynch pins to maintain the twists, folds, and tucks of her long hair, looking less like delicate flowering twigs and more like nails. Her makeup, once a functional part of the geisha’s appearance in dimly lit rooms, was oil paints now and her kimono⁵ was rumpled.

Inwardly, Aia reproached herself.

Dumb girl. Falling asleep. Your maiko sisters bring money to the house, work hard, and your only job is to make sure they are taken care of when they arrive home. Dumb. Lazy.

Crouching down, Aia began plucking the pins from Yui’s hair. She then worked her fingers over her sister’s head, massaging gently. Even without her own shortcomings this night, she woke her many times like this, slowly and carefully. When Okaasan assigned Yui to her in those first days, of the few things she said, she confided that night terrors found her most nights. Sometimes, she was afraid to go to sleep; they might hold her captive so she could not wake up.

Outside, the last of night’s blue evaporated, and the sky was replaced by a dome of pale grey.

Trembling rippled across Yui’s eyelids and shivers forced her hand to clench. Slurred words came from her mouth, jumbled beyond recognition. Some mornings, it sounded as if she cursed the sleep creatures. This morning she sounded resigned, as if she knew she’d leave them for only so long.

Before her eyes opened completely, Aia spoke quickly and softly.

I’ll get tea, but I must undress you first. Then I’ll bring water so you can wash.

Why weren’t you there when I came in?

Scooting her arm around her sister’s back, Aia helped her sit forward. Because I’m worth the price of hemp.

Not hemp.

Not silk.

Cotton, Yui offered, allowing her sister to pull her to her feet and begin unwinding her obi⁶ and kimono.

Plain, then. Undyed.

Yui dragged the back of her hand across her face. Dyes can run.

Was last night bad?

She shrugged. The men were kind. I’m glad to have gone.

They kept you late.

They were drunk.

Did they offer you food?

No, she answered, walking over to the mirror.

Aia fumbled after her, careful to roll the heavy silken robes but trying to work quickly, too. Okaasan expected her girls on the main floor by mid-morning.

Are you hungry?

No.

This was a lie, but Aia no longer argued.

I’ll just bring tea, then.

Has Okaasan been up here, yet?

I’d be moving more slowly if she had.

No. Why?

Instead of answering, Yui reached inside her hadajuban,⁷and pulled out a few coins. The captive currency went into a cloth purse, hidden beneath floorboards Yui made loose one very bad night of sleep.

Holding open a plain brown yukata⁸ for her sister to thread her arms into, Aia made mention of the tea again and hurried from the room. Given Okaasan had not been upstairs yet, likely she was barely awake or awake enough to be irritated it took her so long to squat over her private hole each morning. There was time, then, to take her sister’s clothes into the large, and only, steam room. She would grab several smooth stones and place them in the fire while the water boiled. Then, Yui could have tea and Aia could bundle the heated rocks in a towel and take them back to the reed and tatami⁹ paneled room. A few handfuls of the previous night’s meager snow tossed inside, and rumpled fabric would soon lay flat.

Enough, at least, for her to be able to hide the garments until the next time she took all the okiya’s finery to the cleaning woman.

THOUGH THEIR HOUSE was on the eastern edges of Nagoya, (a fact Okaasan said made for better business because customers left commotion behind them to enjoy fine entertainment,) Aia’s first step outside each day brought the sound of the city to her. Men, women, and children’s voices, all distinct yet not definite enough to be discernable beyond a fluctuating hum. All the same, it was the sound of life tumbling towards her each day. From the sky, clarity, and the rambunctious clatter and chatter of the living below. Stark and clutter. Each morning, she enjoyed it as if it were the first and Aia hoped when it came time for her to begin earnest training as a geisha, she would not lose this small wonder.

At the same time, she hoped Kyoto’s political tumults would not cloud the sky with smoke and taint the sounds of the people with the clash of metal. Everyone talked of war.

Aia adjusted the knapsack on her back.

Pity people could not be moved so easily.

When Emperor Meiji took the throne, his hopes for the country were lofty. Trading with the West. Sending those loyal to his mission across the ocean to learn new ways, thoughts, fashions, inventions, and education. They would bring them back to Japan and Meiji’s people would be a moving, powerful force amid Europe, China, and the Americas.

Already, some women in Nagoya stopped painting their teeth black. European women did not do that. Already, merchants exclaimed the benefits of eating beef. Already, children were being encouraged to know more than their country’s language.

But the emperor could not shift his shoulders and move his people the same as a knapsack. For as many who were thrilled by this new era, equal in numbers were those who wished a painful afterlife on Commodore Matthew Perry for ever having fired upon the harbor in Tokyo Bay fifteen years ago. His black ships started it all.

Japan would return to an imperial court. The Satsuma and Chosu clans seethed and there were whispers of them raiding the capital. Meiji would not stand for it. He would fight back and there would be war.

What then? How would the okiya survive? Maybe, through her neurosis, Yui was smart to tuck money away. Maybe her nightmares told her much.

I don’t have any money.

When she came to the okiya, there had been no funding to train another geisha. She would have to learn what she could from Yui and work until enough of her wages were saved and earnest training could begin.

If revolution breaks out, I’ll have no money and no way to earn it.

Her father used to say her fortunes would