el.the miko-第21部分

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　Seiichi　Sato　looked　from　the　beautiful　face　of　his　bride　to　the　milling　throng　of　guests。　As　he　recognized　a　face　from　business　he　recited　to　himself　the　man's　name　and　position；　then　filled　in　the　appropriate　slot　on　an　imaginary　pyramid　in　his　mind。　The　structure　he　was　forming　was　important　to　him。　The　face　he　gained　at　this　marriage　would　go　a　Song　way　toward　furthering　the　prestige　of　the　keiretsu。　While　Akiko's　parents　were　dead；　the　name　Ofuda　still　ranked　as　most　prestigious；　tracing　its　origins　all　the　way　back　to　the　time　of　leyasu　Tokugawa。
　That　first　Ofuda…Tatsunosuke　was　his　name…was　a　great　daimyo；　an　ingenious　tactical　mander　whose　genius　for　victory　on　the　field　of　battle　was　called　on　many　times　by　leyasu。
　It　pained　him　to　know　that　Akiko　had　never　known　her　parents；　that　she　had　no　relatives；　in　fact；　save　the　gravely　ill　aunt　whom　she　visited　so　frequently　in　Kyushu。　Sato　had　a　brief　somber　flash　of　Gotaro's　broad；　smiling　face。　Sato　knew　well　the　grief　at　a　family　cut　off　at　the　waist。
　How　Gotaro　would　have　loved　this　day！　How　his　smile　would　have　driven　the　morning　mist　into　the　lake。　How　his　great　barking　laugh；　so　like　a　triumphant　shout；　would　have　echoed　and　reechoed　through　these　woods　so　that　even　the　small　creatures　in　their　burrows　might　know　the　extraordinary　joy　of　this　day。
　Sato　passed　a　hand　quickly　across　his　eyes；　using　the　pads　of　his　fingers　to　wipe　away　the　specks　of　wetness　there。　Why　do　this　to　yourself？　he　asked　silently。　Gotaro　is　gone。
　Kare　wa　gaikoku　ni　itte　i　masu；　Sato's　mother　had　said　when　he　brought　her　the　news。　He　has　gone　abroad。　And　never　said　another　word。　She　had　already　lost　her　husband。　Now　the　death　of　her　oldest　son　was　too　much　for　her　to　bear。　She　did　not　survive　the　war；　though　she　was　not　burned　by　the　bombs。　The　war　had　devoured　her　from　within。
　No；　Sato　said　to　himself　now。　Do　not　be　like　your　mother。　Kare　wa　shinde　shimai　mashita。　Banish　Gotaro's　kami。　He　is　dead　and　gone。　And　he　turned　to　Masuto　Ishii；　speaking　to　him　of　business　matters　of　import　to　both　of　them　in　order　to　banish　his　sorrow　or；　at　the　very　least；　to　keep　it　at　bay　on　this　happiest　of　days。
　Not　far　away；　Tanzan　Nangi　stood　with　his　back　ramrod　straight；　his　bony　knuckles　enwrapping　the　white　jade　dragon　capping　his　hardwood　cane。　Pain　girdled　him　from　standing　so　long　but　he　would　not　move。　It　had　been　his　duty　to　be　among　the　first　to　arrive　here；　no　one　else　was　sitting　so　he　could　not　either。
　Further；　he　would　not　lose　face　to　these　priests。　Nangi　would　have　preferred；　of　course；　for　Sato　to　have　had　this　ceremony　in　a　Christian　church。　The　vestments；　the　sacraments；　the　soft　Latin　litany　that　he　could　understand　fully　and　respond　to　were　forts　to　him　that　arcane　Shintoism　could　not　be。　Ghosts　and　spirits　were　not　Nangi's　way。　And　spending　one's　life　placating　a　bewildering　variety　of　kami　seemed　farcical　to　him。　He　believed　fervently　in　Christ；　the　Resurrection；　and　Holy　Salvation。
　He　was　with　a　younger　man；　in　the　eye　of　one　of　the　main　eddies。　They　enjoyed　almost　constant　attention　from　both　newly　arriving　guests　and　those　who　had　been　there　for　some　time　who；　having　observed　a　proper　interval；　now　were　returning　to　seek　advice　from　Nangi　or　tidbits　of　news　of　MITI　from　Riuichi　Yano；　the　new　minister。　He　was　Nangi's　protegd；　and　Nangi's　last　official　act　before　he　left　that　organization　six　years　ago　had　been　to　assure　that　Yano　would　succeed　him。
　As　he　smiled　and　spoke；　thoughtfully　answering　all　questions　as　best　he　could；　Nangi　kept　a　sharp　eye　out　for　the　gaijin。　He　wished　to　monitor　their　movements　from　the　time　they　arrived。　One　could　divine　much　from　observing　the　enemy　at　play。
　Akiko；　too；　had　one　eye　out　for　the　gaijin。　But　only　for　one：　Nicholas。　This　was　the　moment；　and　her　eyes　were　like　cameras；　ready　to　record　the　event；　to　drink　in　expressions　and　emotions。
　She　felt　her　pulse　racing；　her　heartbeat　seemed　to　flutter　her　kimono。　She　used　her　training　to　calm　herself；　to　gather　her　resources　for　the　beginning　of　her　revenge。　She　forced　herself　to　concentrate　on　Sato's　presence　beside　her。　She　looked　his　way；　saw　instead　Ishii　staring　at　her　with　hooded　eyes。　He　smiled　and　nodded；　turned　back　to　his　murmured　conversation　with　Sato。
　There　was　a　rustling　through　the　assembled　guests；　just　the　tiniest　of　ripples　but　Akiko；　her　senses　finely　attuned；　shifted　her　gaze。　The　mask　of　a　smile　was　frozen　on　her　intensely　crimson　lips；　her　white　face　perfect　as　she　saw　the　throng　begin　to　part　at　its　farthest　reaches。
　〃Ah；〃　Sato　said；　turning；　〃Tomkin　and　Linnear　are　here　at　last。〃
　Slowly；　as　if　in　a　dream　she　had　posed　innumerable　times；　Akiko　raised　one　hand；　her　fingers　spreading　open　her　fan　of　gilt；　red；　and　jet　so　that　only　the　edge　of　one　eye　could　be　seen。　The　rest　of　her　face　was　hidden。
　Softly；　she　thought；　softly。　Don't　give　away　too　much。　Not　yet。　Give　him　time　to　approach。　e　closer；　Nicholas。　She　willed　him　drawn　to　her。　e　closer　and　begin　the　destruction　of　your　life。
　She　could　distinguish　the　two　gaijin　now；　one　broader　than　the　other　but　both　tall；　towering　above　the　other　guests。
　She　could　pick　out　Nicholas'　features　as　the　gaijin　continued　to　make　their　way　through　the　throng。　Tomkin　wore　a　dark　pinstripe　with　white　shirt　and　rep　tie。　Nicholas　had　chosen　a　less　conservative　suit　of　sea　green　linen；　a　gray　shirt；　and　a　tie　as　blue　as　an　ocean　trough。
　His　wide…cheeked　face　was　still　in　shadow　as　the　two　passed　through　the　long　stand　of　tall　bamboo　but　Akiko　could　already　discern　the　odd　tilted　eyes；　neither　truly　Caucasian　nor　Oriental。　They　gave　him　a　quality　she　could　not　understand。　Once　again　she　felt　the　same　kind　of　magnetic　wave　she　had　experienced　in　Jan　Jan　and　she　had　to　will　herself　to　remain　where　she　was　at　Sato's　side。
　Now　they　were　very　close　indeed。　Nicholas'　face　sprang　into　the　sunlight　as　if　abruptly　brought　into　focus　in　the　center　of　a　lens。　The　gusting　wind　took　a　lock　of　his　dark　hair；　sent　it　curling　down　across　his　forehead。　Automatically；　his　hand　came　up　to　push　it　away；　a　bar　of　shadow　racing　across　those　strong；　confident　features。
　Not　for　long；　Akiko　whispered　to　herself。　The　moment　was　almost　at　hand；　and　she　knew　that　she　had　orchestrated　it　to　perfection。　A　sense　of　intense　excitement…of　ecstasy；　almost…gyred　within　her；　fueling　her　for　what　was　about　to　happen。
　The　tiny　pink　tip　of　her　tongue　flicked　out　to　moisten　her　lip　as　she　watched　the　litheness　with　which　he　moved；　the　low　center　of　gravity　which　propelled　him　with　such　controlled　power…the　training　of　dance　or　sumo。　In　her　mind's　eye　he　became　the　great　tiger；　lord　of　the　earth；　padding　with　great　stealth　and　coordination　through　the　dense　forest；　prepared　at　any　instant　to　make　his　prodigious　killing　leap　onto　the　back　of　a　lesser　animal　turning　to　flee　his　presence。
　Now。　The　moment　was　here　at　last。　Akiko　waited　until　his　gaze　slid　up；　turning　from　Sato　to　her。　He　was　understandably　curious；　he　had　never　seen　her　before　and　he　must　want　to　know　what　kind　of　woman　Sato　was　about　to　marry。
　She　felt　the　intensity　of　his　gaze。　He　held　on　her　fan；　then　her　eye。　Their　eyes　locked；　and　for　an　unfathomable　instant　Akiko　felt　suspended　in　time　and　space。　All　the　preparations；　the　arduous　years　flew　by　her　again　in　the　brilliant　flash　of　a　film　montage　to　culminate　here。　Now。
　With　a　firm　hand　she　lowered　her　fan；　exposing　her　face。
　When　Nicholas　emerged　from　the　limousine　that　had　brought　them　out　of　Tokyo；　he　was　first　struck　by　the　natural　beauty　of　the　setting。　On　the　way；　they　had　skirted　the　large　lake；　moving　away　from　its　placid　mist…covered　surface　as　they　began　to　wind　their　way　up　toward　the　cliff　upon　which　the　Shinto　shrine　was　situated。
　It　was　not　surprising　to　him　that　the　priests　had　chosen　this　spot　to　build　their　temple。　Shintoism　was　an　attuning　of　the　soul　toward　nature；　life's　currents。　Karma。　One's　life　was　a　part　of　a　much　vaster　skein　in　which　every　living　thing；　human；　animal；　vegetable；　and　mineral；　played　its　role。
　Nicholas'　spirit　expanded　outward；　his　heart　soaring；　as　he　put　his　feet　down　on　the　loamy　pine…needled　earth。　The　wind　was
　fresh；　and　warmth　was　already　creeping　into　the　air。　Soon　the　mist　would　disappear　from　the　boles　of　the　pines　and　the　skin　of　the　lake。　The　view　would　be　fantastic　then。
　He　was　aware　of　the　wings　rushing　by　overhead；　the　rustling　of　the　great　branches；　the　concerted　sway　of　the　stand　of　bamboo。　The　buzz　of　insects　was　in　his　ears　as　the　breeze　flapped　his　jacket。
　Then；　lastly；　he　recognized　the　stir　within　the　crowd。　It　was　subtle　and　he　was　doubtful　whether　Tomkin　was　even　aware　of　it。　But　Nicholas　knew。　The　gaijin　were　here。　Even　him。　Nangi　had　made　it　eminently　clear　that　many　did　not　consider　him　a　Japanese。
　As　he　passed　through　them；　looking　from　face　to　face；　he　wondered　what　they　privately　thought　of　Colonel　Linnear；　Nicholas'　father。　Were　they　proud　of　how　he　had　helped　in　the　rebuilding　of　Japan　when　he　was　brought　in　by　Mac　Arthur's　SCAP　forces？　Or　did　they　secretly　revile　his　memory　because　he　was　a　foreign　devil　at　work　in　Japan？　There　was　no　accurate　way　of　knowing；　and　Nicholas　preferred　to　believe　that　at　least　some　of　them…like　Sato…still　honored　his　memory。　Nicholas　knew　that　his　father　had　been　a　great　man；　that　he　had　fought　long　and　hard　against　some　deadly　opposition　to　create　a　new　and　democratic　superstructure　for　the　postwar　nation　to　rebuild　itself。
　〃Jesus；　these　bastards're　small；〃　Tomkin　whispered　to　him　out　of　the　side　of　his　mouth。　〃I　feel　like　a　bull　in　a　china　shop。〃
　They　were　heading　toward　Sato。　Nicholas　could　see　him　clearly；　with　Koten；　the　giant　sumo；　looking　grotesque　in　a　suit；　not　far　away。　And　by　his　side；　a　slim；　elegant　woman　in　the　traditional　bride's　garb。　Nicholas　tried　to　get　a　good　look　at　her　but　she　was　holding　a　ceremonial　fan　spread　across　her　face。　The　Tsunokakushi　hid　the　top　of　her　head　pletely。
　〃If　this　were　any　other　country；〃　Tomkin　said　softly；　〃I　wouldn't　even　be　here。　I　still　feel　like　shit。〃
　〃Face；〃　said　Nicholas。
　〃Yeah。〃　Tomkin　tried　to　cover　his　sour　expression　with　a　smile。　〃Face　is　gonna　kill　me　one　of　these　days。〃
　Now　they　had　e　almost　all　the　way　through　the　minglin