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el.the miko-第72章

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 Occupation Forces; they were gone; swallowed up in the enormous cerulean sky; the color as translucent as the finest Chinese porcelain。
 Though this was the end of 1952 and Japan was once again a free country; purged of iteki; there was no joy in Nangi's heart。 He knelt by the open fusuma; his hands folded in his lap; gazing with blind eyes out at the near…perfect beauty of the garden。 It would never be perfect; of course。 As the nature of Zen dictated; one must spend one's life searching for that perfection。
 Behind him Nangi could hear the soft voices of Makita; Sato; and his new wife; Mariko; a gentle doll…like woman with a core of courage and an open soul Nangi could admire。 She had been good for Sato; fulfilling a void in him that had been apparent to Nangi almost since the two had first met。
 It was Nangi who mourned Oba…chama's passing the longest。 Makita; of course; knew her only peripherally。 To Sato; she had been mother and father both; and he had been unwell for almost a week following her funeral。
 But Oba…chama had died more than a month ago and Nangi still felt the absence of her spirit like a void in his own soul。 She had been more than mother to him; she had been his confidant; his sensei even when he needed it。 They had shared the joys of his successes; the bitter sorrows of disappointments。 She had counseled him wisely in perilous times and had had enough strength to kick him when he thought he had no more stamina to press onward。
 She had been old; ancient even。 And Nangi knew all things must eventually turn to dust from whence they first came。 But his spirit was bitter and sere without Oba…chama's bright eyes and chirrupy voice。
 Though he could not understand it fully then; Oba…chama's death sealed his fate; or a good part of it at least。 After Gotaro's death Nangi had made an unconscious pact with himself never to allow that degree of openness…and therefore vulnerability…to spring up between him and anyone else。 But somehow Oba…chama had charmed him out of that pact; with this inevitable result。
 Though Nangi was to sleep with many women in his time; he would feel nothing for them in his heart。 The double deaths from his past were like eternal kami hovering in his mind; reminding him of how evil and unfair life could be。 These; of course; were very Western concepts; but Nangi could never admit such anathema to himself。 Thus his karma was plete。 This struggle between his Japanese nationalism and what a tiny part of him might suspect was his ultimate reason for turning to Christianity would plague him to the end of his days; an eternal punishment perhaps for submitting to Gotaro's sacrifice; for lacking the courage to overe his terror and do for his friend what Gotaro had finally done for him。
 The birds were gone now; but the splendor of the autumnal foliage crowned the maple with a mantle of searing colors。 Voices drifted over Nangi like kami。 Mariko was busy preparing the traditional gifts of foodstuff for tonight's tsukimi…the moon…viewing ritual of contemplation and peace。
 Nangi's gaze moved over the top of the swaying maple to the brilliant sky swept new by the gathering winds swirling aloft。 Soon the moon would rise; showering this small space with silver and blue light。 And through the open fusuma the chill of night would slowly creep in。
 
 
 BOOK
 THREE
 K'AI HO
 '1。 A gap; an opportunity presents itself; enter swiftly 2。 Spies'
 
 NEW YORK/TOKYO/KEY WEST/YOSHINO SPRING; PRESENT
 His heart leapt when he saw her。 She broke through the cordon of milling people; her long legs pumping; and raced into his arms。
 〃Oh; Nick;〃 she cried into his chest; 〃I thought you were never ing home。〃
 He lifted her head up so he could drink in the colors of her large eyes; the swirled sienna and bottle green that could have been hazel but was not。 The bright crimson motes danced in her left iris。 He saw that she had been crying。
 〃Justine。〃
 His sigh set her off again; and he feh the slow crawl of her hot tears as their lips crushed together and her mouth opened under his; her sweet warm breath mingling with his; and he thought; It's good to be home。
 〃I'm sorry about how that call ended;〃 she said。 People were shouldering roughly past them and he became aware that they were blocking the egress from the ining flight。 He moved them quickly off to the side。
 〃So am I;〃 he said。 〃I was distracted…there was so much to do over there and not enough time to do it in。〃
 She had done something to her hair; he saw。 It was as tangly and wild as a lion's mane。 Too; there were garnet highlights here and there as the overhead lights spun off it。
 〃I like it;〃 he said; his arm still around her。
 She looked at him。 〃What?〃
 〃Your hair。〃
 She smiled as they began to walk toward the glass doors。 〃All that matters is that you're home safe and sound。〃 She put her head against his shoulder; forcing him to shift his bags to a more fortable position。
 He found it odd and somehow unsettling that she had said nothing at all about her father。 But; considering what was ahead; he did not think this the best time to question her。 Instead; he said; 〃Tell me about your new job。 Are you happy there?〃
 〃Oh; yes;〃 she said and immediately launched into a description of the three major projects Rick Millar had her working on。 In so doing she was transformed again into the exuberant little girl she often could be。 It was interesting how all shyness evaporated from her at these times。 She seemed supremely self…confident and mature。 Nicholas found himself wondering how a job could have changed her in so short a time。
 But when she was finished; the self…consciousness returned。 She could do more things with eyes than anyone else he knew; and now as she lifted her head and stared at him; he saw the shyness and the need for his approval。 There was that peculiar coolness swirling in the depths that he recalled vividly from their first meetings that was far better than a verbal warning to keep him at arm's length。
 He swept her up; laughing。 〃But of course I think it's wonderful! It's about time you came out of your shell。〃
 〃Now; listen; Nick; I didn't say I'd keep at it or…〃
 He set her down。 〃But you said that you enjoy it。〃
 She abruptly had an air about her so fragile and insubstantial that he hugged her to him as if she were a lost child。
 There was a gleaming silver limousine waiting for them as they emerged from the swinging glass doors。 Nicholas stopped; but Justine tugged at the crook of his arm。
 〃Oh; e on;〃 she said。 〃I decided to splurge part of my new salary。 Indulge me。〃
 Reluctantly; Nicholas gave his bags over to the uniformed chauffeur and; ducking his head; slid into the plush back seat next to Justine。 She gave instructions to the driver and they slid out into the slow…moving traffic on their way to the Long Island Expressway。
 〃I see Gelda decided not to meet her father。〃
 Justine looked away from him。 〃You didn't hear my asking to look at the coffin。〃
 〃That was all taken care of ahead of time。 There was no reason for us to be there。〃 Silence in the car; like a beaded curtain between them。 〃Your father…〃
 〃Don't start this again; Micky;〃 she said sharply。
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