Free The Ohana by CW Schutter Page A

hiyoku , an under-kimono, on Kazuko before draping the formal visiting kimono over it.
     Kazuko frowned. “Why?”
    “Who knows? Perhaps your father is testing your skills.”
    “You know, Sunae san. You always know everything. Tell me,” Kazuko pleaded.
    “Only if you promise not to say one word to your father,” she said as she wrapped a red, gold, and silver thread maru obi tightly around Kazuko’s waist, knotting the heavy fabric into an elaborate Darari musubi shape with long tails trailing behind her mistress. She then tied a corded, tasseled obijime through the knot.
    Kazuko promised Sunae she wouldn't breathe a word to her father as Sunae twisted an obiage , a sheer pink and white scarf around the top edge of the obi as a final accent.
    “You are pouring tea for Nakahara sama,” Sunae replied.
    “Why?”
    Sunae shrugged and put kanzashi silk flowers into Kazuko’s hair.
    Kazuko put her hand to her heart. “Something is going on and you know what it is.”
    Sunae sighed as she stood back to admire her handiwork. “Nakahara sama is here to arrange a most fortunate wedding.”
    Kazuko put a fist to her mouth. High-ranking samurai had their children's marriages arranged by someone of the same or higher rank. Kazuko’s father was descended from the Mujo Daimyo , upper crust samurais entitled to income. Nakahara sama was a direct descendent of a Kunimochi Daimyo , a provincial lord, three ranks above her father. Although the samurai were outlawed when Kazuko’s father was a young boy in the 1870’s, many of them privately held on to the old traditions.
    “The man you are to marry is very rich. His family’s name will bring great honor to your family. Your home will be much larger than this and you will have twice as many servants.”
    Kazuko’s eyes widened. “Who is it?” Suddenly aware of the older woman’s troubled stare, Kazuko put on her mask of obedient acceptance. It was a familiar look of defeat and despair over the futility of having one’s own desires. It was the face of obedience that hid her true feelings. Hiding one’s feelings was very Japanese. Kazuko sighed, “You might as well tell me. Whoever it is, I'll have to marry him.”
    “Kimura sama. The very rich, the very noble…”
    Kazuko interrupted. “I know who he is.” Kimura sama was fat with thinning gray hair. His wife died last year leaving him childless.
    He was also the richest man in the prefecture.
     
    “You have no choice!” Her father slapped his fan against his open palm. “I have given my word and signed all the contracts. You're your future husband’s property.”
    Kazuko bowed, her head touching the tatami mat. “Father, I beg you, please don't do this to me.”
    Her father leaned over her and said, "May I remind you, we still follow the code of bushido -loyalty and honor until death.” With that, he strode out of the room.
    Kazuko looked tearfully at her mother. “Mother, help me, please.”
    Kazuko’s mother remained silent for a long time. When she spoke, her eyes were void of expression. Kazuko knew the look well. It was the hopeless look of acceptance Japanese women wore. “I can do nothing for you. You must put aside your feelings and desires.”
    Kazuko would not accept this. All her life she had been in love with Tetsuo; nothing would stop her from marrying him someday.
     
    “We can run away to Yokohama and catch a boat to the Islands of Heaven,” Kazuko told Tetsuo later that day. “They say money grows on trees and the streets are paved with gold.”
    “You'd leave Japan?” Tetsuo touched the sleeve of her kimono and looked into her eyes.
    “Of course,” Kazuko grabbed his arm. “It will be an exciting adventure. And we'll be together.”
    “But to leave all that you have here.” Tetsuo put his head in his hands. “It’s madness. You don’t even know how to prepare a meal. You won’t have a maid to do everything for you.”
    “In the Islands of Heaven,” Kazuko removed his hands