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Todai。 Miss Yoshida and her husband had labored long and hard…she had even appealed to Sato to use his influence in this matter…to get Kozo in。 And they had been dismayed at the boy's appalling display of ungratefulness； he seemed totally oblivious to the great step upward to a successful future his parents had wrangled for him。
Miss Yoshida sighed now； her shoulders hunched as if beneath a great weight as she recalled these events。
At first she had tried accepting the invitation to e and live with her mother…in…law。 But that had lasted only a few months for Miss Yoshida found that she had merely exchanged one form of hell for another。 By living in her mother…in…law's house she put herself under the direct control of the older woman。 She was a hera…mochi of ferocious intensity； insisting on taking over the guidance of the money in her son's life insurance and multiple bank accounts。And the servitude under which Miss Yoshida was forced to abide became too much for her。
She took Kozo and fled the baleful eye of the hera…mochi； returning to the same section of the city she had loved as a child； renting a small apartment there。
And because there was only Kozo left in her life now she became a Kyoiku mama； an education mother； constantly working with her son to improve his grades so that he could get into the elite juku； the private study groups that gathered on Sundays and on national holidays over and above the 240 days regular classes were in session。 Miss Yoshida wanted Kozo to enroll in a juku because she knew the level of teaching in the classroom at his school。 Because students were not allowed to repeat or skip grades； the level of teaching was geared to the slightly slower students in each class and these； Miss Yoshida had judged； were on a level far below her own son's。
And through her own diligence and Kozo's innate intelligence； he was soon asked to join a particularly prestigious juku which rented a classroom at Todai。
Miss Yoshida was particularly pleased because she remembered her own schooling。 In junior college； where all of her classmates were women； Miss Yoshida was taught how to behave in society； how to treat her prospective mother…in…law； how to raise children； and how to prepare herself for all the myriad vicissitudes of married life。 It was no more than a finishing…school education。 She had been bitter about that and had vowed that when she had a female baby； that child would have an entirely different form of education。
But her karma had lain in another direction； and when her physician had told her that the one child was all she could ever have； she resigned herself to seeing that her son received the finest in Japanese education so that all the great doors to the business world would be open to him。 For everyone knew that without an education at only a handful of universities a young man would be cast adrift on a lonely and unproductive sea。
Thus she ignored Kozo's plaints that his teachers at school resented his enrollment in the juku。 They felt； he told her； that the juku undermined their own teaching and they were jealous at the loss of control and thus made life more difficult for him in class。
〃Nonsense；〃 Miss Yoshida told him。 〃That's merely an excuse to shirk your studies。 Do you have any idea how much the juku costs me each month？〃 Of course she would not tell him； but privately she was glad that her husband had been such a hoarder； he was a good provider even in death。
Two years ago…has it already been so long？ she asked herself…Kozo was ready to graduate high school。 All semester long； he had dedicated himself along with his class to studying for the Todai entrance examinations。 White faced and tense he would leave the apartment every morning； not returning from the library until late in the evening。
Then； in the three weeks after New Year's； with all regular classes dissolved for the year； Kozo began the rigorous around…the…clock cramming that was known as shiken jigoku； examination hell。 Miss Yoshida shuddered now when she thought of those words。
She arranged for Kozo to have one entire section of the apartment for his intensive studies。 And then one morning。。。
Miss Yoshida's shoulders shook as she sobbed out loud at the verge of the exquisite garden； the rustling of the leaves； the musical notes of the tiny waterfall which flowed over the smooth ochre stones lost on her。
No！ a voice within her cried。 Why torture yourself again？ Why make yourself remember？
But all the while she knew why。 Penance。 Silent tears streamed down her rounded cheeks； staining her silk blouse； beading on her linen suit jacket。
Ah； Buddha！ How can I ever forget the moment when I entered his rooms that morning and found him hanging； twisted in his bedsheet； the small stool kicked over on its side。 Swinging back and forth like a monstrous metronome and； oh； when he was a child and sleeping peacefully； that small secret smile on his lips； he would twist his sheet around his legs…his legs； not his neck。
Oh； my poor Kozo！
Three months after she had buried him in a plot next to his father's； she had read a newspaper article by Professor Soichi Watanabe of Tokyo's Sophia University。 In part； he lamented 〃the bitterness of educational servitude〃 young boys were forced to undergo； 〃a sentence from which no child can escape。〃 And she had wept all over again； appalled at her own lack of understanding or passion。
From the moment of his birth she had molded Kozo into the conception of what she wanted him to be。 She saw now that she had had no clear idea of him as an individual。 Rather； he had always been an extension of her。 A most important extension； to be sure。 But only a part of her for all that。
Now； her head buried in her hands； she rocked softly back and forth on her haunches and wept bitter tears； drenched in longing and spiteful self…pity。
And that was how death found her； falling across her body in shadow； a rippling nightblack finger that seemed to appear out of nowhere； running across her bent back； ribboning along the folds of her linen jacket like a slice of the Void splitting her in two。
Miss Yoshida was aware of nothing but her own pain and sorrow； the more recent trauma of finding Kagami…san in his own blood in the steam room。 And the indelible memory of Kozo。 Even the foul stench emanating from Tomkin…san； a product； she supposed； of his meat…filled Western diet； was forgotten in the swelling blossom of her utter despair。
Then she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and a soft woman's voice crooning to her and slowly she unwound； her shoulders lifting； her spine unbending； and her head ing up to see the source of fort。
She had just time enough to see the colorful kimono； the long gleaming sweep of blue…black hair； marked with the coarse bloody Xi； in the manner of the geisha； before she heard the odd high whistling and the great ruffled blade of the gunsen slashed through the bone and cartilage at the base of her nose； severing it。
Miss Yoshida screamed thickly as her raw nerves overcame the shock trauma and pain flashed through her。 Blood gushed from the rent in her face； drenching her blouse and jacket。 She fell backward with her feet bent unde