Geisha in Rivalry Read online

  "Okine-san"—Nanso was speaking to the Uji teacher in his box—"over there, in the second box on the east side, isn't that Oman from the Ogie house? She's aged, hasn't she?"

  "What! Is Oman-san here? Madame, please let me have the glasses for a moment.... Why, of course! It is Oman-san. She's changed so much that I hardly recognized her. And the woman in the box on this side of hers—that's the mistress of the Taigetsu, isn't it?"

  "Yes, and even in the days when my father drank like a fish, he was never that fat. It's wonderful to have money, isn't it? She really looks like a sumo wrestler, doesn't she?"

  As they watched, geisha in groups of four or five at a time came incessantly to pay court at the boxes of the powerful teahouse mistresses of the Shimbashi district. Not only geisha, but also actors, other entertainers, and professional flatterers who happened to pass by bowed ceremoniously before them, and a ceaseless traffic of ingratiating gifts of fruit and sushi rice sandwiches and the like flowed toward their boxes, To Nanso, whose eyes were intently taking all of this in, it was far more fascinating than any performance on the stage. Today, in particular, the theater offered more to the sightseer than on ordinary days. It was a special day, and in the boxes of the grand tier as well as those below were arrayed one after another the mistresses and the geisha of Tokyo's most prominent pleasure houses—not only those who made Shimbashi the center of their activities but also those who had come from other parts of the city out of a sense of obligation and proper etiquette. One might say it was the cream of demimonde society. Then there were the actors and their wives, the masters and teachers of the various schools of singing and dancing, and even sumo wrestlers, to say nothing of those who made a business of toadying to all of these. And in the midst of all this company, one saw also the faces of such esteemed persons as society gentlemen, well-to-do playboys, high-ranking government and business officials, and others of their level. In contrast with these, one noted still another type loitering about in sober serge hakama costume of the traditional sort or in Western-style business suits. These were the parasites of the demimonde. And finally, gathered for the most part in the cheapest seats at the back of the orchestra, there were the geisha-house proprietors, the managers, the maids, the hakoya, and all the others who had less glamorous connections with the geisha houses.

  Nanso, in order to have a closer look at all of these types, went out for a stroll in the lobby. As he was making his way through the flow of traffic, a gay voice addressed him from the midst of it: "Sensei, how nice to see you!" Turning to look, he saw a young woman in a formal black kimono with a pattern of flowers at the bottom of the skirt and a white collar showing at the neck. Her hair was done sleekly against her head in preparation for wearing a wig when she appeared on the stage. It was Komayo of the Obanaya.

  Greeting her, he asked: "What are you dancing today?"

  "It's rasuna."

  "Oh, really? Where does it come on the program?"

  "It won't be for a while yet. It's the fifth number."

  "Excellent! Neither too early nor too late. That's the time when the audience settles down to show the most interest."

  "Good heavens, don't tell me! I'll be scared to death."

  "Is Gozan-san quite well?"

  "Yes, thank you. He should be here in a little while. He said he'd be coming with Jukichi-neisan."

  Another geisha with her hair done in the same style came by. Seeing Komayo, she called: "Komayo-neisan, the teacher was looking for you a little while ago."

  "Oh dear, was he? Sensei, I'll see you later. Have a good time." As she said this, Komayo had already begun to hurry with quick little steps down the crowded corridor. At the same time the sound of the wooden clappers was heard from the stage. Apparently the second number of the program was about to begin, and at this signal the coming and going in the corridors became all the more frantic. But even in the midst of it, of all the passersby who caught sight of Komayo in her sleek coiffure, there was not one, either man or woman, who failed to turn and look at her.

  Komayo felt at once both bashful and elated. Last spring's performance had taken place only a short time after her second debut as a geisha, and at that time she had had no patron to provide her with the money she needed to take an important part in it. So, because there was nothing else to do, she had taken the advice of her dancing teacher and accepted a minor part in support of the other geisha. She had played the role of Osome. Nevertheless, she attracted much attention, and as a result she suddenly found herself quite busy accepting invitations. This, in turn, gave her a self-confidence so complete that she set her heart upon doing something big at the autumn show—something that would astonish the audience. But what gave her a greater feeling of security than anything else was the fact that from both Yoshioka and her newly acquired patron—the one whom Yoshioka knew nothing about—she could obtain what she needed to cover the entire expense. And then, as far as her artistry was concerned, she had in Segawa Isshi a specialist who could teach her the tricks of the stage and one of whose apprentices, in fact, would serve as her prompter and assistant during the performance itself. Because of all this, Komayo felt as if she had already become a splendid actress. If this performance brought her even more favorable notice than the last one, in no time at all she would most certainly be pointed out as the star dancer of the whole Shimbashi district, and it was simply a matter of course that she should become known to everybody as a famous geisha of the very first rank. At the thought of all this, she said a little prayer to herself: "Please let me be a success." But until the curtain opened, she would be altogether helpless with anxiety.

  Passing through a door at the end of the corridor, Komayo entered backstage and hurried to the second-floor room that was usually assigned to Segawa during Kabuki performances. For the three days of the autumn dances, she would be using Segawa-niisan's room, putting on her make-up at his dressing table and enjoying the assistance of his valet and his apprentices. All of this filled her with such happiness that she hardly knew how to express it.

  Segawa was already there, apparently just having come in by the stage entrance for a visit with her. He was just taking off his topcoat of fine silk serge. Seeing Komayo enter hurriedly, he said to her: "What's this? Calling people up like that on the phone and telling them to hurry. Did you just get here?"

  "I'm sorry," she said. With no trace of embarrassment before the other persons in the room, she sat down beside him. "I've just been out front paying my respects to people. Niisan, I really want to thank you for today."

  "What are you talking about, anyway? Don't bore me with any high-sounding speeches of appreciation. By the way, there's still plenty of time before your number, isn't there?"

  "Yes, there is."

  "Is there anybody worth mentioning out front?"

  "Mr. A is there, and Mr. B." She mentioned the real names of several actors. "Everybody's here."

  "Really?"

  "They're all here in couples." For no apparent reason, Komayo inadvertently stressed these words. Then, becoming aware of what she had done, she laughed and said: "What's the use of saying I was jealous?"

  At that moment the wig master brought in Komayo's wig for her inspection.

  BOX SET

  SHORTLY before Komayo's Tasuna was to go on, Yoshioka and his office colleague Eda, together with the mistress of the Hamazaki and Hanasuke and the dancing girl Hanako from Komayo's house, appeared in one of the lower boxes on the east side of the theater. At the end of summer, when Komayo had failed to accept his proposal to ransom her, Yoshioka had in fact been overcome with rage and had decided to break off relations with her for good. But for the moment there was no other geisha who appealed to him sufficiently as a substitute for Komayo, and although he was driven by anger, he found no way to reach a decision. The mistress of the Hamazaki, who was an old hand at such situations, offered all sorts of apologies for Komayo's behavior, with the result that Yoshioka finally agreed to maintain her as before. But from then on
, he saw her hardly at all. It was as if he had told himself that as long as he did what he could for her, his honor as a danna would not be called into question. Since he and Eda came only once every ten days or so, and then only for drinking, he had no suspicion at all that Komayo was involved in a secret affair with Segawa or that she had provided herself with a new danna.

  After so many years of uninterrupted sport among the geisha, Yoshioka had become somewhat tired of it all. Since the day he left the Sanshun'en, he had, for no particular reason, been living an uneventful and commonplace life. He went directly home from the office and went to bed early. On Sundays and holidays, he took his wife and children to places like the zoo. This was the sort of life he had been leading—extremely sober and respectable—but he found it neither particularly lonely nor boresome, neither happy nor amusing. In quiet abstraction, he simply let one day follow another.

  But today, sitting in a box at the Kabukiza after such a long absence, and looking out over the brilliant house—a scene, one might say, that spoke to him in a language he understood—Yoshioka experienced a new sensation, as if he had awakened from sleep. Once again he felt inside himself a fierce craving of the sort that would not let him rest until he had covetously seized every pleasure that the world offered, leaving not a single one untasted. Yoshioka's desire to explore thoroughly the sensual enjoyments of modern civilized society was the exact parallel of the desire that led men in primitive times to mount their fiery horses, chase wild beasts over broad plains, slaughter them for their meat, and smack their lips over the feast; and of the desire that led medieval warriors to clothe themselves in splendid armor and shed their blood mutually in civil conflict. Every age has seen such displays of the infinite, the pathetic vitality of the human animal. This vital power, as civilization develops, and in accordance with the social organization, is transformed into the sort of strenuous endeavor that expresses itself today in the pursuit of riches and honor and pleasure, and in schemes for achieving them. Fame, wealth, and women— these three form the center of modern man's life. To hold them in disdain, to despise them, or to fear them— this is the misinterpretation of weaklings who lack the courage to strive for them, or of those whose attempts have failed. As thoughts like these crossed Yoshioka's mind, it became clear to him that the spectacle of the theater had aroused a fresh energy in him. At the same time, he was struck by the realization that he was not yet by any means an old man, that he was still young and capable, and it was this thought that spontaneously filled him with a deep satisfaction.

  Now, at long last, the sound of the wooden clappers announced that the curtain was to open on Komayo's dance number. The voices of the Kiyomoto singers began to take up the narrative accompaniment. Here and there, the audience broke into applause. Three young dancing girls, hurriedly returning to their seats, passed behind the lower box where Yoshioka was sitting.

  "It's Tasunal Look!"

  "Komayo-neisan's Yasuna. Oh, it's beautiful!"

  "Why, naturally! After all, she's got Segawa-san behind her."

  "They say it's really quite an affair they're having."

  These chattering voices, by some chance rising above the commotion of people still making their way to their seats, reached Yoshioka's ears quite clearly. Unconsciously he turned to look in the direction from which they had come, but the hurrying figures of the little dancers were already disappearing into the crowd, and he saw only the patterns of their obi and the long sleeves of their kimono. He could tell neither who they were nor from which house they came.

  But the last words, "They say it's really quite an affair they're having," suddenly falling upon Yoshioka's ears, were more than enough. It would have been a different matter to have such a remark made directly to him in the manner of an innuendo, but this was an item of gossip inadvertently revealed by a naive young dancing girl who had spoken quite naturally and for no particular reason in passing by, not knowing, of course, that he was there. No doubt what she said was true enough, and it was worth paying attention to. To put it proverbially, this was an instance of "Heaven has no mouth but causes man to speak." Having come to this conclusion, Yoshioka began to go back in his mind and to analyze, item by item and as minutely as he could, Komayo's behavior since their falling out. At the same time, he asked himself whether his constant companion Eda already knew about all this even before he himself knew it. And if Eda knew, had he kept quiet about it because of pity for him? If this was the way things had turned out, he wanted to be the first to know it. Otherwise he would certainly look like a fool—Yoshioka, who had always so greatly flattered himself upon being an adept of the demimonde and had been too dull-witted to catch on. The more deeply he felt the disgrace of it in the eyes of the geisha world, the more furious with Komayo he became.

  On the joruri singers' platform at the right of the stage, the voices rose in unison:

  Like waters breaking on a rock,

  The tears of my unrequited love

  Fall on my breast.

  As they finished, reaching an interval in their narration, the hand-drums began to sound, and the audience stiffened with anticipation. It was the signal, at long last, for Yasuna to appear. All eyes turned toward the rear of the theater, waiting for the curtain to rise on the long passageway that led through the audience to the stage. High in the balcony, someone applauded vigorously.

  Yoshioka, when he saw Komayo before him in the role of the grief-crazed lover, madly capering about like a colt in a field and crushing the spring flowers as he dragged his dead lady's wedding robe over them, was so overcome with vexation at her that he deliberately turned his eyes away and fixed them on the ceiling. Now, step by step, he began to consider the reasons why Komayo had avoided discussion of his proposal to ransom her. Whether he wanted to or not, he found himself forced to think about it. Until today, for some reason or other, the things Komayo had said to him had seemed incomprehensible, but now, for the first time, every detail had become clear. The time had finally come for him to throw Komayo off. What he wanted was to do it deliberately: to outwit her suddenly and at the same time with a pretense of knowing nothing at all about her deceit. Still, to go back to his former mistress Rikiji after so long a time would be extremely awkward. But certainly among the more than 1,900 geisha in all of Shimbashi there must be one woman at whose selection Komayo would really shed tears of mortification when she heard the news. With this thought in mind, Yoshioka decided to look over all the women within his range of vision who appeared to be geisha—those in the upper and lower boxes and even those standing on the sides and at the back of the theater—trying to take all of them in at once. By now the entire audience had fixed its attention on the stage itself, where Komayo's Yasuna had arrived in frenzied search for his lost love. At this moment the door of Yoshioka's box opened quietly, and a low voice said: "I'm sorry to be so late."

  With this greeting, Kikuchiyo of the Obanaya entered the box—Kikuchiyo of the heavy make-up, of whom spiteful tongues always spoke as a woman who somehow gave the impression of a prostitute.

  Since she had played the supporting role of the waki in Kairaishi, the second number on today's program, her hair was done in takashimada style, and her elaborately patterned kimono displayed gold embroidery from the skirt almost up to the collar. Her make-up was even heavier than usual, and when Yoshioka, involuntarily turning his head at the sound of the opening door, saw her face catch the light from the stage, it reminded him of a stuffed cloth face on a New Year's battledore.

  Yoshioka reflected once again upon how relations between Komayo and Kikuchiyo tended always to be colored with a tinge of rivalry. Actually, as far as today's show was concerned, if Komayo was determined to play the main role in a Kiyomoto piece like Yasuna, she might have called upon Kikuchiyo of her own house, who was an accomplished Kiyomoto musician and would have given a good performance. But Komayo, because she thought that this would naturally diminish the glamor of her dancing, had ungrudgingly laid out an immense sun of money fo
r the troupe of professional musicians that she had persuaded Segawa Isshi to obtain for her. It was not that she disliked having Kikuchiyo accompany her or that Kikuchoyo was unskillful in her art. Komayo simply wanted to set off her own art to splended advantage and, through today's dancing, to promote her name as the first in all of Shimbashi. She had had no time to consider all the other aspects of the situation.

  For Kikuchiyo, on the other hand, all of this was extremely disagreeable. To have to watch Komayo making a reputation for herself angered her beyond reason. She had no desire whatever to see this Yasuna, but for the sake of the teahouse and its good customer, she decided to fulfill the social obligation of putting in an appearance before Komayo's danna and saying the few words of praise that were expected of her. In fact, however, she was filled with rage, and her misery was so great that she wanted to burst into tears.

  Deceived by crows announcing dawn