Fifty Words for Rain(5)

Unlike her grandmother, who visited occasionally, her grandfather did his absolute best to avoid her entirely, and besides, as the Emperor’s advisor he was in Tokyo most of the time anyway. On those very rare occasions when they did cross paths, he looked at her with eyes as hard as coal. It always left her feeling cold. She sometimes asked Akiko about him. Her face would flatten and she’d say simply, “He is a very important man, a very powerful man.” And then she would hurriedly change the subject.

Curious as she was, Nori was not fool enough to broach the subject with her grandmother. She remembered her mother’s advice well, and though she still did not understand it much, it had proved to be quite useful. Of course, it did nothing to tell her where her mother was or when she was coming back. Nori tried not to think about these things.

The sound of footsteps alerted Nori to her grandmother’s arrival. Rather than looking up, she lowered her eyes to the floor and dropped into a low bow.

The woman before her was silent for a moment. Then she sighed. “Noriko.”

This was an indication that permission to rise had been granted. Nori straightened slowly, making sure to keep her eyes lowered respectfully.

The old woman walked briskly over to where Nori was standing and, in one deft motion, reached out and lifted her chin with a slender finger.

Nori looked at her grandmother’s face. Traces of beauty were still present despite the marks of time. Fine wrinkles decorated the smooth skin, a shade of yellow so faint it was nearly eggshell white. Her grandmother’s features were those of a classic belle: long neck, small hands, and tapered fingers. Dark hair, streaked with more white every passing year, that fell in a perfectly straight sheen well below the waist. Delicate nose and poignant, finely shaped eyes colored the striking shade of Kamiza gray-black that reminded Nori, with a none-too-gentle pang, of her mother.

And of course there was the swan-like elegance and grace that seemed to evade her so frustratingly, possessed by both generations that had come before. It was beautiful and maddening to behold.

“Konnichiwa, Obaasama,” Nori said, trying not to wither under the intensity of her grandmother’s glare. “God grant you well-being and joy.”

Yuko nodded, as if checking off a mental checklist. She backed away slightly, and Nori let out a barely audible sigh of relief. The old woman did a cursory sweep of the attic and then nodded once more.

Nori pulled out one of the chairs at her dining table in anticipation. But her grandmother made no move to sit.

“You have grown some, I think.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin. This was a question she was not prepared for.

“A little, Obaasama.”

“How old are you now?”

Nori bit her lip, willing her emotions to retreat back into their cavern, somewhere at the bottom of her stomach.

“Ten, Grandmother.”

“Ten. Have you bled yet?”

Nori felt panic seize her. Bled? She was supposed to bleed?

“I . . . I am sorry. I do not understand.”

Rather than reacting with disdain or fury, as Nori might expect, her grandmother only nodded yet again. These were all answers she expected.

“How are your studies?”

At this, Nori brightened instantly. For a moment, she forgot herself.

“Oh, they are wonderful. Saotome-sensei is a very good teacher. And he says I shall have more books when I can read a little better. I already have two new books and they are in English. He says that I have a natural facility for—”

Yuko turned a cold stare in Nori’s direction, and it cut her off at the knees. She ceased speaking at once, tasting bile when she closed her mouth.

It is good for a woman to learn silence.

Nori lowered her head. She eyed the faded wooden floor beneath her feet, wishing she could become one with it. To her absolute horror, she felt the beginnings of tears stir behind her eyes. She blinked in rapid succession to push them back.

After what seemed like an eon of silence, her grandmother spoke.

“How much do you weigh?”

Nori knew the answer to this query at once, thank God. She was weighed every day before her bath.

“Thirty-nine pounds, Grandmother.”

Her grandmother nodded again. “Your hair is growing out nicely. Your complexion is improved, slightly. I have sent for a new product. I expect it will arrive presently.”

“Thank you, Grandmother.”

“You could be pretty one day, Noriko. Quite pretty.”

“Thank you.”

Once, this statement would have filled Nori with joy, given her hope, given her a sense of a future outside of this attic. The future was something that racked her with constant anxiety. She had no knowledge of it or plan for it. And one day it would be there, staring her dead in the eye, and she would have nothing to say to it. So when her grandmother spoke like this, it should be cause for happiness.

But though the words still filled her with a sense of optimism, she now knew what followed this promise of tomorrow.

Wordlessly, her grandmother produced a wooden kitchen spoon from the folds of her sleeves. Despite the familiarity of this routine, Nori felt herself begin to shake almost to the point of convulsing. Once again, she had failed. She was one step further away from leaving this attic and joining the civilized world. She wasn’t ready yet. She might never be ready.

Yuko licked her thin lips. “A girl must have discipline. You are learning, this is true. I hear reports on you from Akiko-san and your teacher. But you are still too impertinent. Too bold in your ways. Like your whore mother.”