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eneath the facade of people。
In his own way； Ken was a master sociologist； and Ushiba often thought of this house where Ken and his mother lived as one vast laboratory for his unorthodox experiments。
〃I'd be pleased to stay awhile and talk；〃 Ushiba said now。 〃I could use a respite from the outside world。〃
〃Yes；〃 Ken said as he led the way down the corridor into the kitchen at the back of the house。 〃Time seems almost to stand still here； doesn't it？〃
He was a handsome man； with a long face and soft brown eyes that belied a tenacious personality forged by the trauma of his condition。 But there was always a sadness about him that； perhaps unconsciously； touched Ushiba； that seemed almost familiar to him； as if Ken were a kindred spirit adrift like the Daijin in a world of pain。
〃Outside； however； time is inexorable；〃 Ken continued。 〃The Liberal Democratic Party is finished as the major political force in Japan。〃 He made a face。 〃Good riddance to them； I say。〃
〃They had a crucial role to play in the development of this country。 And I wouldn't exclude them so quickly from our future。〃
〃I understand your sympathy for your old friend Yoshinori；〃 Ken said astutely。 〃But you see where he is； this symbol of the greedy past。〃
〃Yoshinori fought many battles on many fronts when you were just a child； Ken。 Japan is strong today … a major world power … because of him and men of vision like him。〃
〃Men like yourself； Daijin。〃
Ushiba said nothing。 This man could be extraordinarily exhausting。 His intellectual capacity was almost limitless； and one never knew whether he believed the point of view he espoused or whether he wanted merely to provoke a spirited debate。
〃I was fixing myself lunch；〃 Ken said as he rolled to the counter。 〃Would you like something to eat？〃
Ushiba gave his assent and watched as Ken deftly put together two plates of fresh…cut sushi with lots of wasabi and pickled ginger on the side。 He handed one of these； along with a bottle of beer； to Ushiba； and they went to the oval oak table in the left section of the kitchen。 There were many not…Japanese touches to this house； a place where East and West met in； if not perfect then acceptable； harmony。
They ate in a panionable silence for some time。 Ushiba prided himself that Ken felt so fortable with him。 Ken's forte was not interpersonal interaction； he being more of an observer of reaction than a participant。 Perhaps his infirmity had conferred upon him this observer status； Ushiba thought； and Ken clung to it because in society some status was better than none at all。
〃How are things in your world of politics？〃 Ken said at length。 〃It seems to me that a Daijin must be adept at that game in order to gain his position and keep it。〃
〃To be truthful； it's bee wearying。 Too many factions； too many battles to be fought on too many fronts。〃
〃You're getting old；〃 Ken said in his blunt fashion。 〃People who feel the way you do should know better。〃
〃Know better？〃
Ken nodded。 〃You should get out before you make a fatal mistake and the force of your own politics runs you over。〃
Ushiba suppressed his natural instinct toward anger at such brash and impolite analysis。 The fact was； if he were to be brutally honest with himself； Ken was being considerate。 He was telling Ushiba what Ushiba was too prideful to recognize on his own。
〃You're right； of course。〃 Ushiba put away his half…eaten plate of sushi。 His appetite wasn't what it had been even six months ago。 〃When the game bees a burden； the rules change and the hunter is most in danger of being the hunted。〃
〃Animals are bred to smell blood；〃 Ken said； one cheek distended with fish； rice； and ginger。
Ushiba smiled。 〃I remember when that could be said of me。〃
〃It still could； if you want the rewards of the game badly enough。〃
Ushiba looked at him with renewed interest。 Ken must surely be in his early forties now。 Despite this； his face remained unlined； his hair as dark as it had been when he was twenty。 His passions certainly burned just as brightly as they ever had。
Ushiba straightened his back； unmindful of the pain that emanated from his gut。 〃One is born smelling the blood。〃
〃That's right；〃 Ken said； finishing off his sushi。 〃It's bred in the bone； taken in with mother's milk。〃
It was an odd phrase； and something in his tone caused Ushiba to wonder whether Ken was referring to Kisoko。 She was Mikio Okami's sister； after all。 She must have been born smelling blood； too。
Ken pointed to Ushiba's food。 〃Are you going to finish that？〃
Ushiba shook his head and watched with dismay as Ken reached over and happily began to chomp the sushi。 One had to make allowances for people not used to the conventions of the outside world。
〃So what brings you here； Daijin？〃 Ken said around a mouthful of food。 〃You obviously need my mother's advice。 Which faction is plaguing you today？〃
〃There is someone who has made a mistake；〃 Ushiba said carefully。 Kisoko knew of his secret affiliation with the inner council because she was the Kaisho's sister； but Ken was another matter entirely。 〃A grievous； headstrong error that must be corrected。〃
〃We're talking now of punishment； I imagine。〃
There wasn't much that got away from the man。 〃Punishment； yes。 But it is difficult for me because of my。。。 relationship with this man。〃
〃He deserves punishment？〃
〃Without question。〃
Ken nodded as if he took the Daijin's verdict on faith。 〃Then devise a punishment to fit the crime。〃
〃I wish I could。 But the truth is my mind is blank。〃
Ken was silent for some time as he consumed the last of the Daijin's sushi。 At length； he said； 〃e upstairs with me。 I want to show you something。〃
They took the small elevator at the back of the house to the second floor where Ken's private dojo and weapons collection took up almost half the space。
The old windows had been replaced when the dojo had been built。 In their stead； oversize panes of glass had been installed that let in light without sacrificing any of the privacy that both Kisoko and her son held dear。 The highly polished hardwood floor gleamed。 Ranged along one wall were rows of katana； dai…katana； the large samurai's swords； wakizashi； long knives for mitting seppuku； shorter tanto； and other more esoteric weapons； some of which Ushiba had never seen before。
Ken rolled himself to the wall and； using his heavily muscled arms； levered himself out of the wheelchair and onto the floor。 He tucked his useless legs into the lotus position； then moved on his knuckles； his muscles rippling tightly。 His torso acted as a pendulum； swinging back and forth； making his progress seem smooth and effortless。 Nothing； Ushiba knew； could be further from the truth。
Ken set himself down in front of a series of kyokiwood dansu； long low chests made to house katana。 Ken opened a top drawer； pulled out a spherical object wrapped in silk。 As he unwrapped it； Ushiba padded in stocking feet to where Ken sat and knelt beside him。
Ushiba watched in wonder as the object cradled in Ken's palm was revealed。 It was a skull； burnished by age to a deep ocher and sienna。 It gleamed； so Ushiba knew it had been periodically waxed in order to keep it fr