Her kimono was gaudy. It was a bright blue with red flowers. Her obi was large and trimmed with gold thread in the back. Her jet-black hair, piled on top of her head and held with several long turtle shell hair picks and one large ivory comb, contrasted with her pale, oval face. A folded straw hat was beside her on the bench and a small jo-like walking stick was leaning on her seating bench much like Hideki’s katana leaned on his.

  Hideki glanced at her face again. She caught him studying her and smiled. Hideki could feel the warmth starting in his face again and hated himself for it. The young woman saw him blush and laughed. It was not a great guffaw, but a delightful sound like a wind chime moving. Hideki liked the sound of it, even though she was laughing at him.

  He whipped his head away and back to his tea, trying to look stern. He felt her rise. “Say something, stupid,” he chided himself. “Don’t let her get away.” What could he say? He did not know.

  Hideki jumped when she moved in front of him on the other side of his table and spoke. “Gomen nasai, samurai-sama,” she said in a silky voice. “It has been a very long time since I’ve seen a young man who is still able to blush. I find it rather charming.”

  Hideki smiled. “I’m trying to overcome it,” he said, “but have not managed to do so yet.”

  “Would you mind if I joined you?” she asked.

  “Dozo,” Hideki bowed as he invited her to sit with his right hand.

  The shop girl went to retrieve a bowl of noodles from the old man for the woman in the blue kimono, but the old man nodded to the woman’s new position. Then the shop girl understood and went to wipe down the vacated table. The old man would keep the woman’s noodles warm as he prepared the samurai’s. Then the shop girl could deliver them together.

  “What is your name, samurai-sama?” the woman in blue asked.

  Hideki almost blurted out his real name. “Takezo desu,” he said.

  “I am Myo,” the woman in blue said. “I did not mean to cause you discomfort.”

  Hideki shook his head in the negative. “No discomfort. I have only been in the presence of one other woman as attractive as you, and she chose my older brother.”

  “How sad, Takezo. Did she break your heart?” she asked.

  “Bruised it a bit,” Hideki confided.

  “Well, older brothers have better opportunities. Maybe she was just being sensible,” Myo offered.

  “Probably,” Hideki said. “But I would like to think that they fell in love with each other.”

  Myo put her hand to her mouth in mock surprise. “A romantic as well?”

  “You are still making fun of me,” Hideki accused.

  Her smile made it hard to take offense. “Maybe I am, a little, Takezo.”

  The shop girl brought a steaming bowl of noodles for Myo. Then she did the same for Hideki. Myo and Hideki picked up their ohashi in their right hands and plunged them into the steaming bowl of noodles. In unison they uttered the universal “Itadakemasu” and started slurping noodles by moving the long white noodles from the broth into their mouths using the eating sticks.

  “The girl was right. The noodles are good,” Hideki thought. He almost forgot his embarrassment in the presence of the beauty across from him … almost.

  Loud sounds coming from the street interrupted Hideki’s culinary delight. The commotion got louder and then took the shape of three samurai staggering into the little shop.

  The drunken samurai were wearing Tosa mon. Hideki recognized them as lesser vassals to the Tokugawa. The mon of the small pine cone was found in abundance on the far-off island of Shikoku, the Tosa domain. Although they swaggered to impress, Hideki knew the Tosa to be Tozama, or “outside Lords.” Tozama were the daimyo who had sided with Hideyoshi’s Toyotomi heirs against Tokugawa Ieyasu as the latter was trying to unify the current shogunate. The daimyo Lords who had sided with Tokugawa Ieyasu were called Fudai or “inside Lords.” These were called the Go-sanke. There were only three of them: Owari, Kii, and Mito. Hideki and the Yoshinobu were from Kii. He learned all this at the hand of Jii who drilled heraldry of all the daimyo into his and Naga’s head by the time they were six. It was one of the many lessons drilled into the brothers’ heads by Jii’s bokken. Hideki massaged the top of his head in reflex at the thought of all those lumps.

  Their disheveled looks, dirty kimonos, and stained hakama matched their boisterous entrance. Hideki winced when one grabbed the young girl who shuffled over on wooden getas and sang out “Itashai mase” as she bowed.

  The one with a juvenile hairstyle, bushy eyebrows and a four-shaku sword tied across his back grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the first empty table on the left. The girl shrieked. She looked in desperation at the two kago carriers. They would provide no help. To challenge samurai was to court death. She spun quickly, broke the grip on her wrist and ran back toward the old man, the tips of her wooden getas digging into the soft dirt floor. She stopped at Hideki’s table and looked at both he and Myo for help.

  “She doesn’t know what to do,” Hideki said to himself. She was all of fifteen, he estimated, and obviously the product of the burgeoning vendor class. She would have been steeped in their saying that the “customer is king.” But she was not ready for the roughness of the samurai who had stopped in for a late-night bowl of noodles after a night of drinking and carousing. She was fearful of their status. She was a commoner and they were samurai. They could easily kill her or her boss and claim she had insulted them. She twisted her towel back and forth in her hands desperately searching for a solution.

  Hideki had many things to learn about Edo. It was a city full of mysteries. The street life in this entertainment district was complex. He was not at ease with it yet. He felt like a visitor to a foreign land.

  The old restaurant owner wiped his hands on his apron and mumbled, “Dijobi, Hana. Buka samurai. They treat us like dirt and think we have no pride.” The young girl, Hana, smiled nervously and took refuge behind the wooden bar. The owner, realizing that Hideki had overheard him calling samurai “stupid,” bowed slightly in Hideki’s direction and forced a large smile onto his face as he took off his apron. He started bowing as soon as he put his body in motion toward the unkempt samurai.

  “A good man,” Hideki thought. He returned the bow with a nod. The nod was much lower than was his custom. Then he smiled at the frightened girl and moved his attention back to slurping noodles. “He’s also a good cook,” he thought. There was nothing like osoba late at night.

  Hideki watched the old man shuffle over to the samurai. With his kimono hitched into his obi to allow freer movement of his legs, he was bowing as he approached them. He had a shaved pate with a short chomagai tied in the back of his head. The top portion of his kimono was tied up under his armpits and over the opposite shoulder by a long cord to keep the sleeves from getting in the way as he worked. Around his head, he wore a white hachimake to absorb any sweat and keep it out of the food. Worn under the chomagai and knotted in the front just above the eyebrows, the old man’s headband marked him as an Edo vendor.

  He shuffled just short of the samurai’s table. “Gomen nasai, minasan, how may I be of service?” he asked.

  “Go back to cooking old man,” the one with the long sword on his back sneered. “Send the girl back. We’re not finished with her.”

  The old man bowed again. “Gomen nasai, I’m sorry, gentlemen. We only serve noodles here. If you want a pleasure house, the Yoshiwara is full of them. What kind of noodles would you like?” His bow was lower and his smile broader with the last question.

  Long sword was not having any of it. He came to his feet, pushing the old man out of the way, making a beeline straight for the frightened girl. “By the blessed Buddha, you’ll serve me whatever I want,” he crowed as he reached across the bar, grabbing Hana by the apron.

  The girl shrieked and spun, loosening Long Sword’s grip. She dashed around the bar, but had no place to go except next to Hideki. She stopped and cowered where the wall, Hideki’s bench, and his katana all met. Long Sword swore again and moved swiftly toward the girl. He was about to reach around Hideki’s back when Hideki repositioned his katana and saya with his left hand so that it was in the samurai’s path. The samurai stopped cold. The motion had been unmistakable. To bump into a samurai’s sword was unpardonable.

  Long Sword eyed Hideki as if seeing him for the first time. He was not impressed. “What do we have here? You are too little and much too young to want to incur my anger, fool.” Then, pointing to the mon on his kimono sleeve, he asked, “Do you know what this means?”

  Hideki set his bowl down slowly and turned to glance at the mon. “That you are street actors playing at being samurai?”

  Long Sword’s glare cut Myo’s laugh short. He puffed out his chest as he pointed at the mon. “We are Tosa retainers, mongrel ronin. Masterless dogs like you mean nothing to us,” he bragged as he drew his long sword half a shaku from its saya over his right shoulder.

  The short draw was to frighten Hideki. It did not work. Hideki returned to his bowl and slurped more noodles. The room was deadly quiet except for the noise of the ronin eating. The two koga bearers edged toward the door. They wanted no part of four samurai fighting in such a close place. It was not healthy to stay. Myo was all eyes, watching Long Sword’s anger and Hideki’s calm.

  The other two Tosa retainers made a big show of pushing their bench over as they stood up and pulled their swords far enough to allow the blades to show. “Don’t let this insolent cur insult our clan, Mondo. Teach him a lesson.” The other two moved to the back to the room and took up positions behind Mondo.

  Hideki slurped, smacked, and eventually let out a little burp. The samurai’s anger reached new heights. “Are we to be insulted by this bumpkin? He’s too stupid to be frightened,” the short ugly one said. Their eyes went over Hideki’s swords. Both were undistinguished in plain black sayas. The tsubas between the handle and the blade were equally nondescript. Hideki’s clothes offered no clues of danger either. It was the standard garb of the masterless ronin. Mondo surveyed Hideki carefully and concluded he must have recently lost his master, accounting for his arrogance.

  Hideki was calm on the outside and calm on the inside. He had sized up these ruffians as Musashi had taught. Since the Tokugawa peace, they were a common enough sight in Edo. They stood their tour of duty at their diamyo’s Edo residence and with little else to relieve their boredom, sought the sake and pleasure houses of the Yoshiwara district at night. The Edo vendors who made their living from them often fell victim to their violent outbursts.

  Hideki could hear Hana whimper next to him. “The reason I thought you were actors is that no real samurai, schooled in Bushido, would terrify a young girl and her old father in such a manner,” Hideki said.

  Hideki knew he had space for his katana in the small room. Musashi had taught him well. “Always take advantage of your terrain.” He also knew that Mondo could not. The rafters in the roof were too low for his long sword. Hideki spun around on the bench to face Mondo, both hands on his bowl of noodles.

  Mondo, seeing that Hideki’s hands were on the bowl, saw his chance. Hideki almost smiled. He could hear Musashi in his head. “In everything there is rhythm. First you must learn to attune yourself to your opponent, and then learn to disconcert him.” Both hands on the bowl had been the bait and the establishment of rhythm. Now for the disconcert part.

  Mondo’s draw was traditional sky to earth, meant to sever Hideki from collarbone to opposite hip. Such a cut took tremendous power. It never happened. Hideki threw the bowl and its remaining contents at the two behind Mondo while grabbing his saya and katana at the tsuba with his right hand, lunging upward, letting his legs thrust him off the bench. Hideki jammed the end of his katana handle into the unguarded throat of Mondo. Mondo never got his sword out of his saya. Instead, he fell to the ground trying to get air through his crushed windpipe.

  The two remaining samurai separated themselves from the bowl, noodles, and drew their swords. Hideki pushed his saya down into his obi and very deliberately drew the live blade, holding it in his right hand, tip upward, cutting edge down for all to see. Then, with a slight rotation, he reversed the cutting edge upward toward himself and away from the two ruffians. The motion was deliberate and meant to infuriate by implying their skill was so inferior to his that he would not insult his sword with their blood. Furious, they both lunged at Hideki at once.

  Hideki rotated his blade down and to the right, deflecting the attack. Then he reversed the motion in a blazing movement as he shuffled left and pivoted on his forward foot, putting his entire body weight behind a strike to the short and ugly samurai’s right elbow. The crack was audible as the samurai screamed in pain and fell to the dirt floor, dropping his sword to clutch his destroyed arm.

  The last ruffian had to move to the left of his writhing friends in order to gain room to maneuver. Hideki was not allowing it. If he let him move, the girl would be in harm’s way. Hideki dropped his sword to the left and shuffled to his right to cut the ruffian off.

  The last samurai allowed his surprise to show in the form of a slight sneer. Hideki’s head was exposed. The ruffian lunged with his point straight at Hideki’s head. Hideki lunged at the same time, just to the right of the attacker’s sword point and at the same time raised his sword and struck down, dropping all his weight and the back of his sword onto the man’s exposed lead knee. He dropped to join his friends on the dirt floor, screaming in pain and clutching his ruined leg.

  Hideki nodded toward Hana. Her shy smile was his reward. Her father moved to his side and bowed. “Domo arigato gozimus, samurai-san.”

  “Do itashi maste,” Hideki replied as he returned his sword into the saya. “Bad manners are not to be tolerated.”

  Hideki looked down at Myo and found her smiling at him. “Nicely done Takezo. You believe in chivalry as well.”

  “I believe in Bushido. My sword is to protect the weak,” Hideki said, starting to blush again.

  “I wonder,” Myo said.

  “Samurai-san,” the old man urged as he looked about the shop. “You should go before the police arrive.”

  “Why?” asked Hideki. “I have done nothing wrong.”

  “He is right, Takezo,” Myo said. “We should leave before the police arrive. Here in Edo if you have money, you have justice.”

  “Are you both actually suggesting that I run for defending a young girl from three drunken samurai?” he asked.

  “Boy, you are chivalrous and brave and very skilled with your sword, but you are dumb when it comes to how things work in Edo. You do not know how the system works here. Did you see those two kago bearers depart?” Myo asked.

  “Yes. They fled to keep from getting hurt,” Hideki stated.

  “Wrong! They went straight to the police and reported a fight brewing here. The police will pay them for such information. You will be arrested because you are a ronin, and the rest of us will be lucky if we are not arrested also. We go before the magistrate, and he will find all the poor people guilty. We will be sentenced to one or two years of hard labor in one of the mines owned by a high-placed diamyo. The daimyo pays the magistrate for getting cheap labor, the magistrate pays the police, and the police pay the informants. The only people who get nothing are the poor. There is no justice in Edo for the poor!” Myo said. “Now let’s get out of here.”

  “Too late for that,” a loud voice called from the entrance. Hideki turned to see two officer detectives and two juttes blocking their escape.

  The two officer detectives were uniformed in the kamishino, complete with mon on their sleeves and armed with the kodachi swords on their left hip and a jutte in their hands. The police were clothed in kimonos tucked into their obis, leggings that covered their shins, tabi, and straw sandals. However, their clothing left their thighs exposed from the knees to crotch region.

  “You are going to jail,” the older officer announced, pointing his jutte in Hideki’s direction. “If you give us any trouble, we’ll arrest the old man, the girl and this harlot.”

  Fear played across the old man’s face. He protectively grasped Hana’s shoulders. “Sumimasen Kagisan. She is all I have. My business would die if either of us had to go to jail,” he pleaded.

  “It’s up to Uchi Benke here,” pointing at Hideki. “If he comes quietly, we’ll let the rest of you go. But if he tries any of that fancy sword play that laid these patrons in the dirt, then you all go to jail.”

  Hideki stared at the man. What insolence. Uchi Benke indeed; it was a reference to Musashibo Benke, a giant Yamabushi who defeated every samurai he came across and had the reputation for wrecking taverns, restaurants, and anywhere he fought. He fought a lot as he was on his way to collecting 1000 swords from his defeated foes when his path crossed the young, effeminate, and extremely quick samurai, Yoshimune. Yoshimune defeated Benke, and Benke swore his allegiance to Yoshimune. In the ensuing years, Yoshimune and Benke would win battle after battle in the period known as the Genpai wars.

  “Kagi-san, I am confident in my skills. I believe you four cannot subdue me before I kill each of you,” Hideki stated.

  The two juttes physically drew back at the threat.

  The older officer looked at the three on the ground. “That may be Benke, but reinforcements are arriving. Even if you do get out of here alive, the reinforcements will arrest everyone else, and killing a policeman is a death sentence for them.”

  Hideki looked at Hana, her father, and Myo. “Daijobi, kagi-san, the old man, his daughter and this lovely young woman will not have to go to jail. I will let you arrest me, Amoshiroi,” Hideki said. “This may be interesting and enlightening.”

  “So this is what Musashi did on his musha shugyo,” Hideki thought. “He travelled around the country honing his skills, living by his wits, constantly learning. Well, maybe this is a start of my pilgrimage.” Then Hideki had to smile. Jii would be beside himself if he knew one of his “boys” had been arrested this close to the castle meeting. Nevertheless, they had to release him as soon as they knew the facts, surely. He really did not want to cause Jii or Naga embarrassment.