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ning in hiding his past and the decision of his superior to break apart the ministry at the last moment； turning it into the Ministry of merce and Industry before SCAP had set itself up and begun its own purge。
Shimada looked down at his hands。 His palms were slick with sweat。 He took a deep breath； calming himself。 He resolved to stop by the Shinto shrine on his way home and petition the gods and kami for the gift of confidence and the blessing of forgetful…ness。 If not for the gaijin Linnear； all would be peaceful； he knew。
Abruptly； the door to Fuyajo opened and cool illumination flooded over him like a spotlight。 Shimada hurried inside。
At first he wanted nothing more from her than for her to serve him tea。 The plex ritual of chano…yu was as soothing as a massage or a soak in a steaming tub。
Watching Ikan perform the ceremony just for him caused all the problems； fears； and doubts that snapped at his heels in the world beyond the happy field to dissolve like tears in a pool。 In their stead he found himself filling up with a delicious contentment； a clarity of mind he had thought he could never achieve。
And because every movement Ikan made no matter how minute or trivial…turning a teacup or touching a wisp of her hair…was the epitome of grace and fluidity； he found his enjoyment multiplying geometrically as he unraveled each layer of meaning from what she did or spoke。 For her words were never trivial or mundane。 She made no small talk。 Rather； each question she asked or each answer she gave to his questions were both fascinating and eloquent。
In the world beyond Fuyajo memories transformed Shimada like a growing cancer into a man old beyond his years。 But here； Ikan had the ability to banish that haunted quality of his life and； like a serpent shedding its skin； he was reborn in her presence as he was enchanted by her awesome ethereal prowess。
For her part； Ikan never saw the man that Shimada was in the outside world for with her he had no need of scheming； he had no need of fiercely keeping his enemies at bay。 She saw； rather； the man he might have been in another time； another place。
He was gentle with her； and warmhearted。 And his obvious delight at all she did warmed her。 She recognized in him a deep need to be nurtured and loved； and since it was her belief that all men were at their core nothing more than infants； she felt no need to probe too deeply into the source of this need。
But； it must be said that another factor entered into this self…deceit。 Ikan knew there was something special about Shimada when on his second visit he brought her a set of old traditional kanzashi made of tsuge wood in a similar design as her kushi。 Now she had a plete set for her hair。
Her manner was calm； her smile sweet； small； and proper； her eyes properly downcast； her murmur of thanks soft and brief as he presented her with the magnificent gift。 But inside her heart was pounding and she could feel her blood singing through her veins。 This was a pletely new feeling for her and she was inwardly bewildered。
But later than night； when she lay entwined with him on the lushly fabricked futon； as their sweat mingled； as she felt the double…beat pulse of his heart close to hers； as he gently entered her after the careful and delightful hours of sensuous preparations； Ikan knew what that feeling was。 She was in love。
The decision to have the baby was entirely hers。 It was her privilege as tayu…at least that was the custom established years ago by those who ran Fuyajo。 The decision had been an entirely pragmatic one。 Like champion racehorses who are put out to stud； it was felt that many of the tayu's unique qualities were innate； needing only the proper training to emerge and be enhanced。
But this usually happened somewhat further on in a tayu's career because there was fear of markings or disfigurement from the rigors of childbirth as well as the months of enforced idleness and thus lost revenue to think of。 However； Ikan was of such stellar quality that the greed of those who ran Fuyajo eventually overcame their initial doubts。
Ikan was certain that she wanted to bear Shimada's child。 Already he insisted that she see no one else and paid for the privilege of her exclusivity through the nose。 He did not care； although what his wife thought of the increasing level of the bills was quite another matter。
But Shimada's wife was someone Ikan never thought of。 Why should she？ That woman was part of another world； a world in which Ikan could never participate。 What use such thoughts？ Too； she was acutely aware of how she affected Shimada； and she suspected that after the birth of their son…for she had no doubts that she would bear him a son…his elation would be so extraordinary that he would grant her any wish。 And she had only one： to bee his mistress。 He would have to buy her freedom； of course； but he could well afford the price。
It never occurred to Ikan that she would bear a daughter who would bind her to Fuyajo forever； and who would herself be bound to the Castle That Knows No Night。
And yet it was a female child to which she gave birth； a squalling； hairless infant with nothing between its legs but a slit。
For three days Ikan wept on her futon； her dreams of a glorious future destroyed in an instant。 She saw no one； spoke to no one； ignored all the notes sent up to her by a worried Shimada。 These last she burned instantly as if by handling them she could be contaminated。
During this time she did not sleep。 Rather； she lay curled on her left side； her face to the wall。 Her shame was overwhelming； and her face burned with it。 At first her hatred for her daughter was overwhelming； so powerful that she shuddered to its bitter taste in her mouth。 And this； too； caused her to decline all food； wanting perversely to subsist wholly on her hate。
But by the middle of the second day； she found that she could no longer sustain such a harsh and cruel emotion。 It went against all her training and； after all； the child was so helpless and alone。
She was weeping again； hot； bitter tears that swept down her cheeks； depleting her strength。 For she began to understand…as one begins to see a red； swollen sun appear after a long； debilitating storm…that her hatred was for herself。 A terrible despair began to engulf her； and with that awful feeling rose the shame； a black； baleful raven in her tortured mind。
Oh； how her love had warped her； how her own selfish desires had driven her to this shameful reality。 For in her egotism she had been confident of bearing a male child…had she not spent two hours every day at the Shinto shrine two blocks away； propitiating the gods； seeking their aid？…and had thrust to the dark back recesses of her mind the consequences of bearing a daughter。 For all female offspring of tayu became the property of Fuyajo； to train when they came of age to replace their mothers as new oiran and； if the gods favored them； eventually tayu。
She spent all of the third day contemplating this； taking a little food now when it was offered to her but still wanting to see no one。 And at the end of that time； after she had lit incense and prayed to the Amida Buddha for guidance； she asked