Fish of the Seto Inland Sea. Ruri Pilgrim

could manage. It would all be worthwhile if Ayako could marry such a well-qualified man.

      â€˜We have to prepare her to become a suitable bride for the eldest son of the Miwas,’ Tei-ichi was saying. ‘Don’t be lazy about chaperoning her. It is your responsibility.’ While he was talking to Kei, he made up his mind about his daughter’s marriage.

      â€˜Yes,’ Kei said, looking at her folded hands on her lap.

      â€˜There will be a lot of expenses, to be equal to the Miwas. But we must do our best not to shame ourselves. We must also think of Ayako’s position after she has married. We have to send her off properly. The boys’ education might have to be reconsidered. I hope you understand that,’ Tei-ichi told his wife solemnly.

      â€˜Yes,’ Kei said again, but she was not as worried about money as Tei-ichi was. When the negotiations started, she would gently suggest that her husband have a frank talk with Shobei. Shobei must know the Shirais’ financial situation. If it was money he wanted, he certainly would have accepted the Abes’ daughter. He would not be as unworldly as her husband. Kei sensed that her sons’ education, on the other hand, was far more important than before. They were the family assets, not a large trousseau.

      She went back to the kitchen where Shige was supervising Kiyo, who was measuring rice and washing it ready for the next day. Shige had come to the Shirais as Kei’s personal maid when she married Tei-ichi. They had grown up together.

      â€˜O’Shige san,’ Kei called. ‘Come here a minute.’

      When Shige went into the chanoma, a small back living room next to the kitchen, Kei was sitting by the hibachi, an elaborate charcoal burner. An iron kettle was always placed on it during the day and from it now came the soft noise of water evaporating.

      â€˜Sit down for a minute.’

      Kei pointed towards the other side of the hibachi. As soon as Shige sat down, Kei giggled and whispered, ‘Ayako gave dansama such a surprise.’

      She remembered how her husband was flurried and lost his usual dignified air of importance.

      â€˜He is so naive!’ She kept on laughing. Shige, too, laughed.

      â€˜Oh, men are all very naive.’

      â€˜They think they are cleverer than us.’

      â€˜What happened?’ Shige’s husband was bringing in wood from outside and, hearing the laughter, poked his head into the chanoma.

      â€˜Go away. This is women’s talk.’ Shige waved her hand to chase him away. The two women continued to chat to each other, giving vent to feelings pent up by the strain of constant obedience.

      As Kei hoped, Ayako was welcomed and treated like a real daughter by Shobei and his wife. Most of her trousseau was made up of the ‘presents of welcome’ from the Miwas. This did not shame the Shirais. On the contrary, people realised that Shobei esteemed the Shirais and their respect for the Shirais increased. At the same time, they appreciated Shobei’s generosity. Shintaro loved his young and lovely wife. Ayako adored him. For her, there was no one as handsome, intelligent and kind as he was. She looked up to her husband with respect and worshipped him as though he was a god. Her obedience to him was sincere.

      For ten years, there was nothing but happiness in the Miwa family. The villagers said, ‘Even the sun shines brighter over their house.’

      When Ayako produced a healthy first child, even though it was a girl, there was a celebration. She was named Takeko. Then, two years later, in the first year of a new century, 1900, Haruko was born. Slight disappointment was felt at the arrival of a second daughter, but the husband was thirty-five and the wife was only nineteen.

      â€˜We’ll have more children,’ Shintaro said to Shobei.

      â€˜Of course you will,’ he answered.

      When a third daughter was born, Shintaro, who had been telling his wife that he was not at all worried whether it would be a boy or a girl, had to walk around the garden before he went to see her to make sure he looked cheerful and pleased. The third child was called Sachiko.

      It was when Ayako was pregnant for the fourth time that, one frosty morning, Shobei went to inspect his charcoal-making lodge. Wearing his padded jerkin, he bent forward and walked on hurriedly. As he came to the foot of the steep stone steps leading up to a temple, he made out a pair of women’s footwear left neatly at the bottom. He was not surprised. The temple was famous for divine favours for childless women and women without sons. They would go to the temple every day and climb up and down the steps barefoot for their wishes to be fulfilled. During the day, there were always one or two women in the vicinity who had come from far away.

      In the grey light, he saw Kei coming down the steps. Unaware that the passer-by was Shobei, Kei squatted once more in supplication when she reached the bottom of the steps. Kei must have been there every morning praying for Ayako to have a boy, before Tei-ichi got up. Tei-ichi’s dislike of what he called superstition was well known.

      And a son, Shuichi, was born. Shobei opened kegs of saké and invited the villagers. He ordered pink and white rice cakes from the largest cake shop in town and distributed them. He also donated a large sum of money to the temple. It was in honour of the quiet figure who was praying barefoot in the icy morning for the sake of her daughter and her family. It was his way of thanking her without telling her.

      All day, relatives and friends arrived. They brought a large red sea bream as a symbol of felicitation, silk, cakes and other presents. In the kitchen, sushi was prepared in quantity. Only one person did not participate in the party. In the quiet inner room, Ayako was fast asleep.

      That was the happiest day for the Miwas.

2

       The Russians

      At the outbreak of the Russo-Japanese War, the International Red Cross appointed Shintaro to be responsible for war casualties. He was one of the few doctors in the country qualified in European medicine. He was stationed on an island of Oki in the Japan Sea where the Red Cross Hospital was set up. Anticipating that the war would last more than a year, Shintaro took his wife and young family with him.

      â€˜Haruko ojosama, there is a Russian man’s body washed up on the shore. Let’s go and see,’ a young servant said to Haruko.

      He knew she would come. He was excited and itching to go, but thought that it would be prudent to take one of the children with him. It would look better than leaving work on his own. Of the four children in the Miwa family, the younger two were not old enough, while it was unthinkable to ask Haruko’s older sister, Takeko. At the age of seven, Takeko was a prim young lady. Haruko was different. When she heard the servant, she neither asked questions nor hesitated.

      Haruko went out through the gate ahead of the servant. Once outside the garden, the servant rolled up his hakama (wide trousers). Haruko hitched up the skirt of her cotton kimono. Both of them took off their geta (wooden footwear) and, carrying them in their hands, ran along the dusty lane leading to the sea shore.

      There was a crowd of some fifty people standing on the beach looking at the body, which was lying on the sand face up. It was late spring and the breeze felt pleasant to the people who were standing around.

      â€˜Huge!’ a well-tanned and bow-legged man exclaimed, looking at the body.

      â€˜If the country is big, it is natural that the people are big,’ someone else said. He