el.the miko-第40部分

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was　numb　with　disbelief。　He　could　not　find　a　pulse！
　Tomkin's　mouth　was　working　and　he　pulled　Nicholas　toward　him　wanting；　needing　perhaps；　to　whisper。　Nicholas　put　his　ear　against　Tomkin's　lips　and　listened　hard。　Hard　breath　like　a　bellows　working　overtime　and　the　sickly　sweet　stench　of　decay。　It　brought　up　the　buried　memory；　but　just　as　he　reached　for　it；　he　heard　Tomkin's　voice；　sere；　fibrous；　unearthly。
　〃Greydon；〃　Nicholas　heard　between　pants。　〃For。　Christ's。　Sake。　Get。　Grey。　Don。　Now。〃
　Pink　light　reflecting　off　the　kanzashi　in　Miss　Yoshida's　hair　turned　the　water…soaked　stones　glistening　at　the　bottom　of　a　pool　into　gems。　She　knelt　just　inside　the　open　fusuma　on　the　fiftieth　floor　of　the　Shinjuku　Suiryu　Building；　home　of　Sato　Petrochemicals。　It　had　been　given　over　to　a　master　interior　architect　and　then　a　sensei　of　gardening　in　order　to　create　a　sanctuary　of　peaceful　contemplation　in　the　smoky　madhouse　of　downtown　Tokyo。
　A　whisper　of　wind　came　from　somewhere　in　the　pearly　atmosphere　above　Miss　Yoshida's　bowed　head。　Off　to　the　right　rose　a　stand　of　willowy　green　bamboo；　tall；　youthful；　filled　with　eternal　suppleness；　that　ineffable　quality　the　Japanese　so　treasure；　whose　aura　can　renew　the　tired　spirit。
　Miss　Yoshida；　dressed　in　a　fashionable　dark　red　suit；　knelt　by　the　side　of　the　pool。　Though　she　was　Sato's　administrative　assistant；　the　simple　fact　was　that　tradition　dictated　that　she　be　known　as　an　Office　Lady。　It　was　a　tag　she　had　been　fighting　for　years　without　any　sign　of　success。　And　indeed　under　other　circumstances　she　would　not　have　been　here　but　would　have　fulfilled　her　traditional　female　duties　of　being　a　wife　and　mother；　of　keeping　her　home　in　perfect　order。
　But　six　years　ago　her　husband　had　been　struck　by　a　careening　truck　as　he　stepped　off　a　sidewalk　jammed　with　the　crush　of　midday　pedestrian　traffic。　His　skull　had　been　crushed　instantly。　His　death　had　left　Miss　Yoshida　all　alone　to　care　for　their　one　son；　Kozo；　who　was　then　beginning　high　school；　the　one　linked　with　prestigious　Todai。　Miss　Yoshida　and　her　husband　had　labored　long　and　hard…she　had　even　appealed　to　Sato　to　use　his　influence　in　this　matter…to　get　Kozo　in。　And　they　had　been　dismayed　at　the　boy's　appalling　display　of　ungratefulness；　he　seemed　totally　oblivious　to　the　great　step　upward　to　a　successful　future　his　parents　had　wrangled　for　him。
　Miss　Yoshida　sighed　now；　her　shoulders　hunched　as　if　beneath　a　great　weight　as　she　recalled　these　events。
　At　first　she　had　tried　accepting　the　invitation　to　e　and　live　with　her　mother…in…law。　But　that　had　lasted　only　a　few　months　for　Miss　Yoshida　found　that　she　had　merely　exchanged　one　form　of　hell　for　another。　By　living　in　her　mother…in…law's　house　she　put　herself　under　the　direct　control　of　the　older　woman。　She　was　a　hera…mochi　of　ferocious　intensity；　insisting　on　taking　over　the　guidance　of　the　money　in　her　son's　life　insurance　and　multiple　bank　accounts。And　the　servitude　under　which　Miss　Yoshida　was　forced　to　abide　became　too　much　for　her。
　She　took　Kozo　and　fled　the　baleful　eye　of　the　hera…mochi；　returning　to　the　same　section　of　the　city　she　had　loved　as　a　child；　renting　a　small　apartment　there。
　And　because　there　was　only　Kozo　left　in　her　life　now　she　became　a　Kyoiku　mama；　an　education　mother；　constantly　working　with　her　son　to　improve　his　grades　so　that　he　could　get　into　the　elite　juku；　the　private　study　groups　that　gathered　on　Sundays　and　on　national　holidays　over　and　above　the　240　days　regular　classes　were　in　session。　Miss　Yoshida　wanted　Kozo　to　enroll　in　a　juku　because　she　knew　the　level　of　teaching　in　the　classroom　at　his　school。　Because　students　were　not　allowed　to　repeat　or　skip　grades；　the　level　of　teaching　was　geared　to　the　slightly　slower　students　in　each　class　and　these；　Miss　Yoshida　had　judged；　were　on　a　level　far　below　her　own　son's。
　And　through　her　own　diligence　and　Kozo's　innate　intelligence；　he　was　soon　asked　to　join　a　particularly　prestigious　juku　which　rented　a　classroom　at　Todai。
　Miss　Yoshida　was　particularly　pleased　because　she　remembered　her　own　schooling。　In　junior　college；　where　all　of　her　classmates　were　women；　Miss　Yoshida　was　taught　how　to　behave　in　society；　how　to　treat　her　prospective　mother…in…law；　how　to　raise　children；　and　how　to　prepare　herself　for　all　the　myriad　vicissitudes　of　married　life。　It　was　no　more　than　a　finishing…school　education。　She　had　been　bitter　about　that　and　had　vowed　that　when　she　had　a　female　baby；　that　child　would　have　an　entirely　different　form　of　education。
　But　her　karma　had　lain　in　another　direction；　and　when　her　physician　had　told　her　that　the　one　child　was　all　she　could　ever　have；　she　resigned　herself　to　seeing　that　her　son　received　the　finest　in　Japanese　education　so　that　all　the　great　doors　to　the　business　world　would　be　open　to　him。　For　everyone　knew　that　without　an　education　at　only　a　handful　of　universities　a　young　man　would　be　cast　adrift　on　a　lonely　and　unproductive　sea。
　Thus　she　ignored　Kozo's　plaints　that　his　teachers　at　school　resented　his　enrollment　in　the　juku。　They　felt；　he　told　her；　that　the　juku　undermined　their　own　teaching　and　they　were　jealous　at　the　loss　of　control　and　thus　made　life　more　difficult　for　him　in　class。
　〃Nonsense；〃　Miss　Yoshida　told　him。　〃That's　merely　an　excuse　to　shirk　your　studies。　Do　you　have　any　idea　how　much　the　juku　costs　me　each　month？〃　Of　course　she　would　not　tell　him；　but　privately　she　was　glad　that　her　husband　had　been　such　a　hoarder；　he　was　a　good　provider　even　in　death。
　Two　years　ago…has　it　already　been　so　long？　she　asked　herself…Kozo　was　ready　to　graduate　high　school。　All　semester　long；　he　had　dedicated　himself　along　with　his　class　to　studying　for　the　Todai　entrance　examinations。　White　faced　and　tense　he　would　leave　the　apartment　every　morning；　not　returning　from　the　library　until　late　in　the　evening。
　Then；　in　the　three　weeks　after　New　Year's；　with　all　regular　classes　dissolved　for　the　year；　Kozo　began　the　rigorous　around…the…clock　cramming　that　was　known　as　shiken　jigoku；　examination　hell。　Miss　Yoshida　shuddered　now　when　she　thought　of　those　words。
　She　arranged　for　Kozo　to　have　one　entire　section　of　the　apartment　for　his　intensive　studies。　And　then　one　morning。。。
　Miss　Yoshida's　shoulders　shook　as　she　sobbed　out　loud　at　the　verge　of　the　exquisite　garden；　the　rustling　of　the　leaves；　the　musical　notes　of　the　tiny　waterfall　which　flowed　over　the　smooth　ochre　stones　lost　on　her。
　No！　a　voice　within　her　cried。　Why　torture　yourself　again？　Why　make　yourself　remember？
　But　all　the　while　she　knew　why。　Penance。　Silent　tears　streamed　down　her　rounded　cheeks；　staining　her　silk　blouse；　beading　on　her　linen　suit　jacket。
　Ah；　Buddha！　How　can　I　ever　forget　the　moment　when　I　entered　his　rooms　that　morning　and　found　him　hanging；　twisted　in　his　bedsheet；　the　small　stool　kicked　over　on　its　side。　Swinging　back　and　forth　like　a　monstrous　metronome　and；　oh；　when　he　was　a　child　and　sleeping　peacefully；　that　small　secret　smile　on　his　lips；　he　would　twist　his　sheet　around　his　legs…his　legs；　not　his　neck。
　Oh；　my　poor　Kozo！
　Three　months　after　she　had　buried　him　in　a　plot　next　to　his　father's；　she　had　read　a　newspaper　article　by　Professor　Soichi　Watanabe　of　Tokyo's　Sophia　University。　In　part；　he　lamented　〃the　bitterness　of　educational　servitude〃　young　boys　were　forced　to　undergo；　〃a　sentence　from　which　no　child　can　escape。〃　And　she　had　wept　all　over　again；　appalled　at　her　own　lack　of　understanding　or　passion。
　From　the　moment　of　his　birth　she　had　molded　Kozo　into　the　conception　of　what　she　wanted　him　to　be。　She　saw　now　that　she　had　had　no　clear　idea　of　him　as　an　individual。　Rather；　he　had　always　been　an　extension　of　her。　A　most　important　extension；　to　be　sure。　But　only　a　part　of　her　for　all　that。
　Now；　her　head　buried　in　her　hands；　she　rocked　softly　back　and　forth　on　her　haunches　and　wept　bitter　tears；　drenched　in　longing　and　spiteful　self…pity。
　And　that　was　how　death　found　her；　falling　across　her　body　in　shadow；　a　rippling　nightblack　finger　that　seemed　to　appear　out　of　nowhere；　running　across　her　bent　back；　ribboning　along　the　folds　of　her　linen　jacket　like　a　slice　of　the　Void　splitting　her　in　two。
　Miss　Yoshida　was　aware　of　nothing　but　her　own　pain　and　sorrow；　the　more　recent　trauma　of　finding　Kagami…san　in　his　own　blood　in　the　steam　room。　And　the　indelible　memory　of　Kozo。　Even　the　foul　stench　emanating　from　Tomkin…san；　a　product；　she　supposed；　of　his　meat…filled　Western　diet；　was　forgotten　in　the　swelling　blossom　of　her　utter　despair。
　Then　she　felt　a　gentle　hand　on　her　shoulder　and　a　soft　woman's　voice　crooning　to　her　and　slowly　she　unwound；　her　shoulders　lifting；　her　spine　unbending；　and　her　head　ing　up　to　see　the　source　of　fort。
　She　had　just　time　enough　to　see　the　colorful　kimono；　the　long　gleaming　sweep　of　blue…black　hair；　marked　with　the　coarse　bloody　Xi；　in　the　manner　of　the　geisha；　before　she　heard　the　odd　high　whistling　and　the　great　ruffled　blade　of　the　gunsen　slashed　through　the　bone　and　cartilage　at　the　base　of　her　nose；　severing　it。
　Miss　Yoshida　screamed　thickly　as　her　raw　nerves　overcame　the　shock　trauma　and　pain　flashed　through　her。　Blood　gushed　from　the　rent　in　her　face；　drenching　her　blouse　and　jacket。　She　fell　backward　with　her　feet　bent　under　her　buttocks。　Her　eyes　opened　wide；　blinking　rapidly　in　inprehension；　for　now　she　recognized　the　figure　for　what　it　was　and　her　heart　contracted　in　terror。
　〃I　am　afraid　this　is　way　beyond　my　ken；〃　the　doctor　said。　He　was　gray　and　wan；　seeming　ten　years　older　than　when　he　had　e　through　the　office　door。　〃His　only　hope　now　is　a　hospital。〃　He　sighed　deeply；　pushing　his　wire…framed　glasses　up　on　his　glistening　forehead；　then　massaging　his　eyes　with　his　thumbs。　〃A　thousand　pardons。　I　am　afflicted　with　an　almost　constant　sinus　headache　these　days。〃　He　produced　a　small　plastic　bottle；　detonated　squeezes　in　each　nostril。　〃My　doctor　says　I　must　soon　leave　the　city　for　good。〃　He　pocketed　the　bottle。　〃The　pollution；　you　know。〃
　He　was　a　stooped　Japanese　of　more　than　middle　yeas；　with　shoulders　so　thin　the　blades　could　be　seen　beneath　his　rumpled　jacket。　He　had　kind；　intelligent　eyes。　He　sighed　now　as　he　put　the　bottle　away。　〃But　if　you　want　my　opinion；　even　that　won't　do　much　good。〃　He　peered　around　at　the　anxious