Promise of the Chrysanthemum
an excerpt

It had been over a week since Mama had died, but the memories of her death were still too painful. Her smell still lingered around the house; Kaiyo could not go into the room where she and Miyu had prepared her body for the grave.

She turned around and walked down the hall, unable once again to open the door. Someday, she told herself. For now, she ought to continue cleaning.

Kaiyo headed downstairs, Miyu’s words still haunting her thoughts. You cannot stay in Tokyo. It is not safe. When the time comes to leave, you will know. Such a cryptic phrase from a woman who was normally so straightforward. That alone bothered her; but her not being safe? Who or what would put her in danger?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden sharp knock at the door. “Coming!” Whoever it was, they were going to bore a hole in the door if they knocked much longer.

She opened the door to see her neighbor, Mrs. Parker, a middle-aged lady with a penchant for elaborate and gaudy hats, standing there. “Good day, Mrs. Parker.” She clearly looked perturbed—but that wasn’t uncommon.
But the sight of the two Japanese men with her was.

“Miss McAllister, these two men came knocking at my door asking for you.” She squinted at her. “I could hardly understand what they were saying! It took me a good part of an hour to understand them.” She lowered her voice. “Next time you decide to invite your—friends to your home, kindly give them the correct address.” She turned away with a haughty sniff. “I see you’re following in your mother’s footsteps…and not a week after her passing.”

Another insult. Kaiyo was used to them. But she resented being likened to a prostitute. “Mrs. Parker, I have no idea—“

“If any unsavory business should happen here, let me assure you, I will be sure to have you out of this house and our neighborhood in a matter of hours.” Her brown eyes were aglow. “Good day, to you.” With a rustle of her skirts she turned and walked away.

Kaiyo ignored the threat and focused her attention on the two strangers on her door step. Whatever was going on, she would not have them stand here for the entire world to see. Let people think whatever they want.

“O-hayo, gentlemen. Eigo ga nanasemasu ka? Do you speak English?”

The older man shook his head but the younger man said, in very accented English, “Sukoshi. A little.” His dark eyes seem to be assessing her and she could feel her skin burning at his glance. “Anata wa eigo o nihongo ka? Speak Japanese?” He asked in return.

Kaiyo hesitated. His dialect seemed a mix of Tokyo and some other odd one. She would have to pay extra close attention. “Hai.”

“Good,” the older man said in Japanese. “It will be easier for you to understand us.” He looked inside, a slight smile on his face. “May we come in?”

Kaiyo looked at him a moment, trying her best to understand through his dialect—it was much stronger than the younger man’s. “Oh! Yes, yes, sumimasen. Forgive me for my lack of manners.” She bowed in quick apology as was custom and led them inside.

She led them to the small sitting room. “I apologize for the mess…my mother has recently…she has…”

“We know,” came the younger man.

Kaiyo stood there, motionless. “I beg your pardon?”

“Ah, now it is your turn to forgive our manners.” The older man smiled. “We should introduce ourselves. I am Murakami Yasuhide.”

“Murakami Ryuji.” Came the young man’s curt response. “Hajimemashite.”

Kaiyo eased herself into a chair. “I am—“ she stopped. “Well, I am sure you already know who I am.”

“We do.” Ryuji’s response came quick.

Kaiyo wished Mama were there to help her with her Japanese hospitality skills. “May I offer you some tea?” she asked.

“Hai.” Both responded.

She nodded and ran off to the kitchen to quickly put on a kettle. Who were these men?

The tea kettle whistled and Kaiyo quickly brought the tea out and served each a cup. Both sipped once and put the cup down.

“I am sure you are wondering why two strange men have come to your door,” said Yasuhide.

Kaiyo nodded. “Yes…and why they seem to know so much about me.” She would rather be frank with them.

“We come on the request of your father.” Ryuji said, matter-of-factly.

Kaiyo’s heart stopped. “My…my father?” Did she hear him correctly? She stared at the mysterious man--his dark eyes revealed nothing. Was this some sort of joke? “I apologize, but I think I may have misunderstood you. Did you say my father sent you here?”

“Hai.”

So she wasn’t mistaken. Questions reeled through her mind. “How do you know my father?”

“That is not important—”

“Oh but it is.” She continued. “Do you even know my father’s name?” All propriety was fleeting.

Ryuji’s eyes darkened. “That is not important. I hardly see why—“

“You hardly see why?” Kaiyo interrupted. “I beg your pardon, but both of you are complete strangers to me. If you were sent here by my father, surely you would have proof.”

“We do.” The older man pulled out two envelopes from his pocket. “These should answer your questions.”

Kaiyo took the letters from him with shaky hands. She hesitated to read them, but knew she must.

“It’s curious to me that Kaiyo-san demand so much proof when she doesn’t even know her father’s name,” Ryuji muttered.

Kaiyo looked up. “How dare—“

“Please read the letters.” Yasuhide’s calm yet stern demeanor calmed her temper. The nerve of the man to call me so informally.. She picked up the letter and opened them—the sooner this uncomfortable meeting was over, the better.

The first was written in a hand she didn’t recognize. It was addressed to Yasuhide.

Honorable Yasuhide, I am writing to you on behalf of my daughter, Kaiyo. Her beloved mother is nearing death…
Kaiyo nearly fell out of her chair. How had her father had known Mama was dying? She continued reading.

I have it on good authority that Kaiyo’s safety may be jeopardized. I humbly request that you and Ryuji-san to bring her to live with you and your family for a time. I know that under your watchful guard, she will be safe.

She looked for his name but it was ripped off the bottom of the paper. She swallowed the lump that rose in her throat. Her mind was swirling with questions; her heart was overcome with anger, hurt, confusion…

“How convenient for him to suddenly play the role of loving father,” Kaiyo said as she folded the letter back up. “If he is so concerned about my well-being, where has he been the past twenty years? And how come he refuses to let me know his name?” She was filled with a sudden pang of contempt for this man with no name who suddenly claimed to be her father.

“It is for your protection,” Yasuhide said.

“My protection is it? From what? That’s all that I’ve been told, countless times, yet everyone refuses to tell me what I need protected from.” She could feel her temper rising.

“You must trust us, Kaiyo-san.” Ryuji said. “Your father has your best interests at heart.”

Kaiyo turned on him. “Is that so? Or is it for his sake? More than likely, he does not want his precious name sullied. Or he is afraid of the consequences should his wife find out that—”

“Enough!” The sound of Ryuji’s hand slamming on the table echoed throughout the room. “You should not speak in such a way about your father. He is a good man.”

“This on the word of another stranger.”

“Ittetsumono,” he muttered. “I’ve never met such a stubborn person in my life.” He pulled out another letter from his kimono. “Here. This one you shouldn’t have a problem with.” He pulled a letter out of his kimono and handed it to her.

She took it from him. As soon as she opened it, her expression changed. Mama. It was written in Japanese, but the handwriting was unmistakable.

“My dear friend, Yasuhide, I write to you concerning my beloved daughter. As you know, my health is faltering and I am sure I will not be on this earth much longer.

Kaiyo continued reading through the veil of tears.

“ I am writing to ask you to watch over my dear Kaiyo. I know her father has already written to you concerning this matter, so I will not repeat his words. Her life has already been affected by my poor choices but I know that you and dear Fumie will watch over her as if she were your own. My strength is waning now; I pray that life will be kinder to Kaiyo than it has been to me. I humbly thank you for considering this request from one who is as unworthy as I.”

“Oh, Mama.” The tears cascaded down her cheeks. She looked up into Ryuji’s unwavering eyes. “Where…where did you get this letter?”

“It was addressed to me,” Yasuhide said.

Kaiyo wiped the tears from her face and composed herself. Since when did Mama know this man? Doubt still lingered in her heart—this couldn’t be. No, it had to be someone’s idea of a joke. An elaborate and cruel joke.

“Two letters are not enough to prove who you are,” she said. “For all I know, someone could have paid you to steal this letter from my mother’s desk and fabricate the other one.”

Ryuji leaned back in his chair and looked at Yasuhide. “Unbelievable. Do you hear her, Ojisan? She thinks us common thieves!” His dark eyes focused on her again. “You would honestly believe that we are so low as to steal letters from the homes of stubborn ainoko women, just to make their lives miserable?”

“Ryuji-kun!” Yasuhide’s stern voice pierced the air.

Kaiyo bristled at the term, though it had not been the first time she had been called a half-caste. She focused on the irritating man in front of her. “Your manners today show me that you are no better than a common thief.”

“I do not take kindly to insults.”

“Neither do I.” Kaiyo continued. “I resent that you think me naïve enough to believe the word of a total stranger. If you lived your entire life as an outcast, doubting motives of complete strangers would not seem so unbelievable to you.”

“Both of you, enough,” this time Yasuhide’s voice shook the house.

Ryuji stayed silent. But Kaiyo wasn’t finished.

“If I were to believe that my safety was in jeopardy, what am I supposed to do? Pack up my belongings and leave town with you?”

The answer came in both of their expressions. Her anger nearly reached its limit; she was done with this nonsense.
“I believe I have had enough for today.” She stood up, the men followed slowly. “Now, if you’ll both excuse me, I have to get this house in order.” Forget civility. They can find their own way out.

She started walking away, wanting to push this unpleasantness out her mind.

“Kaiyo-san.” Yasuhide’s calm voice stopped her. She sighed, turning to face them both. “Hai?”

“‘When I am weak, then I am strong.’” Ryuji spoke the words evenly, in English.

Her heart nearly stopped at the sound of her mother’s phrase. “What did you say?”

“You heard me well enough the first time. Your face betrays you.” Ryuji got up and walked toward her, his tall, broad frame towering over her. “We will be by tomorrow shortly after dawn. Be ready to leave then.” He brushed past her and headed toward the door without another word.

“Kaiyo-san, please forgive his manners,” Yasuhide said, coming up to her. “He has very bad memories of this city.”

“Then…then why has he come back? Why is it so important that I leave?” Kaiyo’s voice rose with emotion.

“Your father only wants to protect you,” Yasuhide said. “Please, trust us on this matter.” Yasuhide bowed and left as wordlessly as his younger companion.
Kaiyo eased herself back into her chair, her mind reeling with questions. Why did everyone leave just as she was about to ask another question? Miyu had done the same.

And who told him of their secret phrase? Was she really in danger? And from whom?
Mama’s last words suddenly flashed in her mind. I should have told you…I wish I had told you...promise to trust me and your father…
A sudden wave of nausea came upon her and she struggled to keep the contents of her stomach down. Twenty years of hidden revelations weighed upon her soul. Oh Mama…what secrets did you take to the grave?