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never lied。
For better or for worse； Nicholas suspected； he and Sato had to trust each other now。 They were in deep water with nothing but an abyss below them。 If there was no trust between them； then their enemies had already won。
〃I think； Sato…san； that in some ways we are the same。 Perhaps that is the reason why Nangi…san dislikes me。 Perhaps he has already sensed this bond。
〃When I was a young man。。。 young and foolish〃…the two men grinned hugely at each other…〃I met a woman。 She was old
beyond her years； certainly beyond my years。 But then my； er； studies precluded my early initiation into certain basic worldly matters。〃
Sato； both fists against his rather flushed cheeks； was rapt； he was obviously enjoying himself immensely。
〃She possessed a power I could not explain…I still can't； though I think I understand it better。 But it was as you have so eloquently said。 It was as if some cruel heart had cast a spell over me。 I was powerless before her。
〃She was a purely sexual animal； Sato…san。 I still cannot fully believe that such a creature could exist。 And yet I must confess that it was precisely this quality which drew me to her。 You can see that she could not possibly be a happy person。 How could she？ If she were not making love there was a nothingness for her。 Oh； not the Void。 You and I know that there is power in the Void； and an essential kind of peace that causes a pleteness of the spirit。
〃But Yukio's was diminished when we were not at sexual play。 I did not think on this part of her at all until one day in April we were walking through Jindaiji。 I favored that place above all others in Tokyo because my father had always taken me there rather than Ueno。 I suppose he liked it better because it was a botanical park。
〃The bonbori were hung on the trees though the time of the someiyoshino had already passed。 It was late into hanami； the third of the traditional days when the cherry blossoms fall。 We had meant to go the day before when the petals were at their height but Yukio had felt ill and we had stayed in； watching old movies on TV。
〃We walked through the winding pathways of Jindaiji on that third day； and it felt to me as if we were high on the slopes of Mount Yoshino with one hundred thousand cherry trees whispering in the wind about us。
〃I had never before wept at hanami； though certainly my mother had many times and； once； I had seen tears in my father's eyes。 That time； as well； it had been on the third day； and I had wondered why he might be so moved since it was obvious to me that the blossoms had been more beautiful the day before。
〃Now I wept； understanding what it was my father had seen that as a child I had not。 Though； indeed； the sakura were past their peak； as they fell this day one knew that there was no tomorrow； that this was the last leavetaking； and their beauty seemed enhanced； deepened； even； by this knowledge。 The ineffable sadness inherent in the moment was palpable。 And for the first time I found myself understanding in a purely visceral way the mystique known as the nobility of failure which we； as Japanese； revere so highly。 For I saw that the sorrow of the moment caused the effort to be truly heroic。〃
Nicholas paused for a moment。 He had bee as rapt as Sato at the return of those long…ago memories。 He was transported by the opportunity to unburden himself。
〃Then something odd happened。 I turned and looked at Yukio。 Her beautiful head was raised toward the pink…white cloud of the descending blossoms。 I could clearly see the line of her long neck； the hollow between the collarbones。 Two pale sakura clung to her silk blouse as if they belonged to her。
〃And I saw that somehow they were the same； these last； most precious of the cherry petals and Yukio。 That she possessed that same quality that made them so special。 It was not a nothingness that possessed her when she was not making love but rather a terrible； aching； unassuageable sadness that went beyond anything I had encountered。
〃And all these years later I find myself wondering whether that was why I loved her； cherished her above all others。 Because somehow I knew that； given time； I was the only one who could remove that sadness from her。〃
〃You speak of her in the past only； my friend。〃
〃She died in the winter of 1963。 Drowned in the Straits of Shimonoseki。〃
〃Ah；〃 Sato murmured。 〃So young。 How sad。 But she is with the Heiké。 The kami of that doomed clan will care for her。〃 He turned his gaze downward； wiped at the remnants of spilled sake on the lacquer with the hem of his kimono sleeve。
Sato's large frame seemed as hulking and hunched as a brown Hokkaido bear's。 There was an unbreachable gulf between them but at the same time they were closer now than many men ever got in their lives。 For they were bound by a mon sadness that drew them together like blood brothers。 Twined as much by what had been left unspoken as by what had been said。
〃Linnear…san。〃 When he spoke again； his voice was soft。 A hint of the paternal tinged it。 〃Did it ever occur to you that perhaps you would no longer have loved her had she lost that ineffable sadness？ That； indeed； she herself might not have survived in this world without it？ Perhaps it will help when next you think of her。〃
But Nicholas was not thinking of that。 He knew that the next logical step in this unburdening process was to tell Sato of Akiko's uncanny twinness to Yukio。 Indeed； he tried several times to get out the words。 But nothing came。 It was as if his throat had bee paralyzed。
A shadow passed across the open doorway to the room and Nicholas saw Koten's bulk for a moment。 Just checking up on his boss； Nicholas thought。 See that I haven't strangled him yet； carved an ancient Chinese character into his cheek。 He shuddered inwardly； returning fully to the present。 For a blessed time they had both dwelled in a world free of revenge and bizarre murder。
Across from him Sato lurched to his feet。 〃e； my friend。〃 He beckoned with a hand and； stumbling across the tatami； fumbled open a fusuma at the far end of the room。
The night breeze stole in。 Following him； Nicholas found himself a step down； on a smooth pebble path that seemed luminous in the moonlight。 Around him shivered dark peonies； releasing the scent of roses； clumps of iris and hollyhock。 Farther away he made out the shape of chrysanthemums beside the bole of the boxwood tree。
Sato stood in the center of his garden； his chest expanding as he breathed in the fresh air。 The storm had scoured away the last of the pollution； at least for the several hours left before dawn。 Low in the distance； beyond the boxwood； the sky was pink and yellow； tattooed with the pigment of Shinjuku's neon。
〃Life is good； Linnear…san。〃 Sato's eyes glowed； reflected in a bination of cool moonlight and the warmer light streaming out to them through the open fusuma。 〃It is a rich and varied tapestry。 And I do not want to prematurely leave it。〃 His eyes blinked heavily in the manner of the drunk。 〃You are a magician； Linnear…san。 You have e into our lives most fortuitously。 One learns one cannot turn away from karma； eh？〃
He hugged himself。 〃Tell me； Linnear…san； are you a student of