Free Kill the Shogun by Dale Furutani Page B

They did wear sumptuous kimonos in Noh, but their faces were covered by masks that indicated what part they were playing. Kaze was surprised by the lack of masks on these players, and he was also surprised at the presence of a woman onstage.
    In front of the stage, Hanzo was busy wrapping
omusubi
, rice balls covered with dried seaweed, in broad, green leaves to protect them. Evidently, Hanzo was in charge of selling snacks to the audience.
    “The samurai!” Hanzo said. He dropped everything and rushed to Kaze, genuine pleasure showing on his broad peasant’s face. He gave a deep bow, and Kaze returned the bow with a nod of his head.
    “How did you get involved in this place?” Kaze asked Goro.
    “After you gave us the money in Kamakura, we decided to come to Edo to have a good time. Hanzo and I argued about it, because he wanted to spend the money on a once-in-a-lifetime binge, and I wanted to start a business so we don’t have to return to our little farm. We decided to compromise. We came to Edo and had a small binge. Before we could complete our binge, we met the former owner of this theater, who offered to sell us this. Hanzo and I argued some more, but we eventually bought it, thanks to the gold you gave us in Kamakura.”
    The part about Hanzo and Goro arguing was something Kaze could well believe. The two men argued like an old married couple. The two of them running a business was what Kaze found hard to believe.
    “Have you ever run a theater before?”
    “No, but the man who sold us the theater company said it’s a gold mine!”
    “And why did the mine owner want to give it up?”
    Goro looked puzzled. He looked at Hanzo, who simply scratched his head. Kaze sighed. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”
    “Well, I guess business has been a bit slow. The actors get part of the money the people pay, and they’ve been grumbling about it. I guess many women used to be in the show, but they’re gone now. The only woman we have left is her,” Goro pointed with his chin at the young girl on the stage. “She used to help the other women get dressed, but she says she’s an actress.”
    Kaze shared some of the samurai view of morality. It was his heritage. But after years of wandering and countless contacts with peasants and other commoners, he understood that the earthy values of the heimin also had a place in society. Still, Kaze didn’t quite approve of women onstage. He was sure that if this Kabuki got popular, the Tokugawa authorities would eventually ban women completely. As in Noh, the stage was the realm of men, even if they were playing the parts of women.
    “In fact, that girl, Momoko, is helping us to build up business for the theater.”
    “How?”
    “We’re going to hand out leaflets to tell people about our big show. We had a woodblock cut with the information about our theater.”
    “What did it say?”
    Goro looked sheepish. “I don’t know. I can’t read. I just had a woodblock man put down what he thought would get people to the show.”
    Kaze shook his head. Kaze wondered how many potential patrons couldn’t read, either. Goro and Hanzo didn’t seem prepared for any business venture.
    The couple onstage seemed done with their rehearsals. The girl came off the stage and walked to Goro and Hanzo, apparently wanting to discuss something. In her tight kimono, she walked with the tiny, shuffling steps dictated by the wrapped cloth. Kaze judged her to be in her midteens. She used a wig and some makeup to look older, but her youthful features couldn’t be masked. She was not pretty. She had a tiny pug nose, a mouth that was too wide, and a short neck; the exact opposite of classical beauty, which called for a straight nose, a small mouth, and a long, swanlike neck.
    As she walked up to the three men, her gaze fixed on Kaze. Her steps slowed, and her eyes widened. She reached the men and stood before Kaze, mute, obviously taken with him. Kaze knew that some women found him attractive,