Free The Golden Naginata by Jessica Amanda Salmonson Page A

secret? It was my sorcery which planted the idea of coming here, though she herself thought it intuition. You believe you could defeat her easily, but I do not think you can. She is like a younger, more impetuous Tomoe. To kill her would be jigai ; it would be killing yourself. I think you will let her win!”
    Tomoe whispered, “Why have you this grudge?”
    Tsuki-cum-Naruka looked confused by the quiet question, then replied hotly, “I need no grudge! I am the evil Naruka and desire to do mischief only!”
    â€œSomeone makes you,” said Tomoe. “Someone who is a greater magician than you. I would suspect the giant who was the enemy of the swordsmith Okio, but Uchida Ieoshi is no sorcerer. Therefore my enemy is unknown to me. Will you tell me?”
    The occultist looked still more confused, the ugly side of her face contorting madly. She exclaimed, “I am your enemy! Your only one! You need suspect no other!”
    For the first time Tomoe spoke loudly, “That is not your voice!”
    â€œIf you fail to kill me now,” said the occultist, “then I will kill you later!” Saying this, she moved toward the samurai. Tomoe started for her sword, but could not move her hand against Tsuki Izutsu, no matter how cruel the woman had become. Despite the crooked leg, the woman leapt over Tomoe’s head and out the window. Tomoe whirled around and saw her one-time friend hobbling across the lower roof. Then she jumped onto the street. She ran brokenly into the night. Behind her, the red oni followed like a faithful dog.
    In the morning, Tomoe awoke, momentarily wondering where she was. She had spent the night in the fortune teller’s abandoned room. The innkeeper came up the stairs and looked into the room, for the door had been open all night. Tomoe said,
    â€œThe occultist has run away. I doubt that she or her oni will return.”
    The little man looked doubtful, then hopeful, then gleeful. He jumped in the air and whooped happily. “A reward!” he exclaimed. “Let me show my gratitude by making you a meal and pouring you saké!”
    Tomoe nodded. “Don’t bring it to this room. I will eat on the main floor with your other guests.” The innkeeper scurried away, singing a gay folk song as he went. Tomoe closed the door for privacy. She squatted on the shibi to relieve herself. She found a bowl and poured water into it so she could splash her face. She cleansed her ears and teeth. She groomed her hair with a comb kept in a small kit in her sleeve. The most difficult undertaking was to remove the wrinkles from her hakama, for she had unfortunately fallen asleep before taking them off. She removed the baggy trousers and laid them flat on the floor to press the pleats with her fingers; then she put her legs back into the garment and retied the straps around her waist, making a fine bow in front.
    In all these morning practices, she took her time and tried to be relaxed. Thoughts of Tsuki Izutsu the gentle nun changing her name and occupation to something more devilish interfered with Tomoe’s sense of calm.
    Other tenants were already gathering on the main floor of the inn. Tomoe joined them, descending the stairwell with her sheathed shortsword through her hakama straps and obi, and her longsword and straw hat carried in one hand. There were a few flat pillows for kneeling, but not enough to go around. Tomoe chose not to use one. She knelt upon the polished floor, aloof from the motley group around her.
    The fleet-footed innkeeper brought individual trays of food for everyone, and a special gold-leafed tray for Tomoe in particular. Her presence dampened the group, for her neatness caused the others to try to be as mannerly about eating. She was not the only samurai in the room, however: there was a young samurai sitting apart from everyone else, with an even younger girl in his company. The girl was too shy to be a geisha or even a geisha’s