The Memory Painter

Lord Kira entered in all his glory, adorned in ceremonial robes that outshined them all. He smiled at the lords, showing blackened teeth.

Ohaguro, staining one’s teeth, was a fashion originally reserved for married women with children, or geisha, but had become quite popular with some noblemen and those in upper society. The effect was obtained by melting metal in a vinegar base and then adding Chinese sumac powder. The tannins in the powder would turn the foul-smelling brown liquid into a black viscous lacquer. One had to paint the teeth every few days to maintain the effect, and Asano found it repulsive—another symbol of the vanity and corruption eating away at the court. He stared at Kira and thought it made the old man look like a lizard with a diseased mouth. He made no effort to hide his disgust and turned away, making sure Kira noted the snub.

Asano went to stand by the door, where a servant entered and approached him. “Forgive me, Lord, but my master asked me to inquire about the starting time of the ceremony?”

Before Asano could answer, Kira interjected in a voice loud enough for the entire room to hear. “Don’t ask that one, his ignorance is even greater than yours.”

A hush fell over the hall. Asano could not believe his ears. To add further insult, Kira moved toward him and whispered. “You see, young lord, I can make your life quite miserable. But I am still willing to help an Ako-inbred country monkey like yourself.”

At Kira’s words, unbounded rage overcame Asano and he drew his sword.

Everyone gasped in shock. Such an act inside the Shogun’s castle equaled treason and was punishable by death, and Asano’s rational mind screamed at him to stop—to kill this man would destroy his clan and his name. Kira wanted nothing more than to witness his ruin. By drawing his sword, Asano had granted his wish.

Reason deserted him. He raised the sword high into the air and with a shaking arm brought it down on Kira’s head. Shogun Tsunayoshi entered the hall just as the blade struck. The sword glanced off of Kira’s forehead, drawing blood, and Kira fell to the ground. A great commotion erupted as attendants rushed to help the victim. Everyone could see that the cut was not deep—that Asano hadn’t had the strength to kill him. Kira would live.

Asano blindly raised his sword to strike again, but the other lords and their assistants rushed him and they held him back as they screamed for help from the guards outside.

Shogun Tsunayoshi backed away in horror. Asano’s sword was wrenched away from him, and now that it was gone, his sanity returned. His head was pounding; he couldn’t think. He could only stand there frozen, held back by the arms of his fellow lords. What had just happened?

The Shogun’s Rojyu, his second-in-command, roared. “You disrespect the Shogun’s house! His laws!”

Asano dropped to his knees and bowed low in deep remorse.

No one spoke. Seventeen years ago, the Shogun’s prime minister had been struck down in this very room. Rumors of the Shogun’s involvement had surrounded the assassination, so he took Asano’s actions as a personal offense.

Asano remained kneeling, his forehead touching the floor. “I beg forgiveness. There is no excuse for what I have done.”

The Shogun did not acknowledge his plea and stormed toward the door. The Rojyu followed as he bellowed, “The ceremony is ruined. Send everyone home!”

Stripped of his swords, Asano remained on his knees with a rigid back for hours, waiting for his captors to decide what to do. He tried to make sense of his absolute loss of control. Did he hate one man so much that he would throw away his life? He found no answer, only anguish.

A troupe of guards arrived to secrete him away from the castle to Lord Tamura’s mansion, where Asano would await his sentence. Once there, he was allowed to write his wife a letter. He described the day’s occurrence and could only hope that she would pass his message on to his head kerai and chief retainer, Oishi Kuranosuke Yoshio, whom he trusted more than his own brother. The fate of his house now rested in Oishi’s hands, and Asano prayed that his kerai would somehow help to repair the damage he had inflicted.

Just as he finished the letter, the Shogun’s officer arrived to deliver the sentence. The Shogun’s decision had come more rapidly than usual. His envoy read it aloud: “By the command of Shogun Tsunayoshi, Lord Asano is to commit seppuku on this day.”

Asano was stunned. He had prepared himself for the possibility of a death sentence, but for it to come so quickly was inconceivable for a lord of his standing. He would have no time to put his house in order.

“The Lady Asano is to suffer permanent exile, and all the property belonging to the Asano clan will be put under the Shogun’s protection.”

Every word was a venomous sting. All three hundred samurai under the House of Asano and their families would be stripped of their homes, their livelihood. Asano forced himself to focus on what the envoy was saying. The worst had been saved for last.