按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
Fukuda paid the check and took Honno out。 They followed the two men out into the semidarkness of the night。 All around them glittering high rises bespoke the enormous wealth of the new Japan。
Honno could find nothing strange in this assignation。 She saw only two men meeting for a friendly discussion。 It was then that she saw the buff…colored envelope pass from Kunio Michita's hand to that of the finance minister's。 It was quickly put away in the finance minister's inside jacket pocket。 The men continued their stroll； their talk； as if nothing had happened。 Ten minutes later they parted。
Fukuda and Honno continued their walk through Akasaka。 Honno thought of the fantastic run of luck Michita Industries had had over the past year： winning bids； ing in at just the right time on government…sponsored projects； always being eligible for government incentives in new and emerging industries； closing down divisions just before the ministries declared their product obsolete or nonpriority。 Now she knew that luck had nothing to do with it。 No wonder it had not rubbed off on her。
All around them； the superstructure of Tokyo rose into the clouds and the rain。 The sky was so low； it was bright with the city's efflorescence。 Tokyo stood as a modern miracle of terra…forming。 Honno had always loved this city； but now； as if with a twist of a kaleidoscope； she was seeing it from another vantage point。
She remembered； at the beginning of this evening； looking out the window of the apartment Big Ezoe had given her； seeing the moonlight play across the bosom of the Sumida River。 A dream of hers had been fulfilled。 But now she had been exposed to the opposite side of that dream； a nightmarish world that harbored every form of perversion； corruption； and deceit。 And these two worlds were part of the same Tokyo。 Her Tokyo。 My God； she thought。 What I've witnessed is monstrous。 How will I ever fall in love with Tokyo again？
Fukuda led her into a small park。 There was one stone bench。 Honno could hear the soft tinkling of a stream but she could not see it。 They sat on the bench； which had a view of the park's lone tree； a cryptomeria that leaned far to its right； as if caught in a high wind。
''I particularly enjoy this spot；'' Fukuda said； as if to himself。 〃Often； I find the grid of the city overly grim； like staring at a detailed blueprint for far too long。 Its beauty is leached away by familiarity。 Then I e here； and look at this cryptomeria。〃
〃Poor tree；〃 Honno said。 〃It looks as if the hand of God has mauled it。〃
〃On the contrary；〃 Fukuda said； 〃it seems to me that the cryptomeria's beauty is transfigured； made awesome by its pain。 Look。 The stark contrast of its bark and needles to the backdrop of steel and glass and neon； the twisting of its trunk arcs against the rectangles of the buildings。 Whether nature or man is responsible for the tree's form； no one can say。〃
And then Honno understood what Fukuda meant。 It did not matter which was responsible for the tree's form。 Nature and man were here bee one。 This was the purpose of the cryptomeria； as if by its tortured appearance it could bring meaning out of the inchoate meaninglessness of the city。
〃Yes；〃 Honno said。 〃I believe I； too； would enjoy ing back here from time to time。''
It was nearly three A。M。 Their last stop was a bunkerlike building in Shimabashi。 It was made of ferroconcrete and was absolutely featureless； an ultramodern edifice set off by the older buildings that surrounded it。
Inside was a world of semidarkness； similar to what one found in the heart of a forest。 〃You may change in there；〃 Fukuda said； indicating a door。
Honno went through； stripped； bathed； clothed herself in a fresh white gi； the cotton divided skirt； the loose overblouse of the martial arts discipline。 She was alone in the dojo for several minutes。 It was very different from the one she worked in with Big Ezoe at his club in the Ginza。 This space was darker； far more forbidding。 She felt as if she were deep in the castle keep of the Shogun； Ieyasu Tokugawa。
Fukuda soon appeared。 He was wearing a protective wire…mesh mask and carrying two bokken； the traditional wooden swords used in kenjutsu practice instead of the steel katana。 He also carried another mask。
〃How are your swordfighting skills； Mrs。 Kansei？〃 Fukuda asked as he threw her a bokken and the mask and began his advance； all in one movement。
Honno did not even have time to answer him。 He took her through the entire range of attack and parry strategies； from firecut to fallen leaves； from sea…land change to crossing at the ford。 Honno did her best to respond； but she was unused to being up all night； and this； bined with the shocks she had received while walking Tokyo's seamy underbelly； caused her focus to wander； and consequently made this an inauspicious time to work on her kenjutsu。
However； as she well knew； one could rarely choose the time of battle； and so one needed to concentrate within and through every conceivable type of situation。 So she gathered herself； bore down a little harder with her mind and with her body。
And from this determination； she discovered something interesting： Fukuda was toying with her。 She could sense it now that she was concentrating； in the laziness of his parries； in the haphazard manner with which he chose to move from strategy to strategy。
There was； as a foundation of Honno's curriculum in kenjutsu； the necessity to unlock the secret of your opponent's strategy。 With that knowledge； one divined weaknesses as well as strengths。 Now one's own strategy was quickly formed： a series of attacks and parries； building in a kind of crescendo； to weaken the opponent bit by bit； to strip him of his defenses； and then to attack with the one； swift fatal strike。
What was Fukuda's strategy？ His haphazardness made his intentions impossible to fathom。 But the real question was； was he merely sloppy or was he being devious？ Was he hiding his strategy or did he； in fact； have none？
Honno's kenjutsu sensei had told her that it was far better to overestimate an opponent than to underestimate him。 With this in mind； Honno kept her concentration strong and slowly expanded her wa。
She did not seek in any overt way to take control of the match。 This； she suspected； was just what Fukuda wanted her to do； and in being careless； to fall into a trap he had tying in wait for her。 She had not forgotten me lesson learned in her aikido bout with Big Ezoe； and she was determined not to repeat her mistake。
To the untrained eye nothing appeared to have altered in the match。 Fukuda was still dictating the random flow of strategies。 But the slow expansion of Honno's wa was making its presence felt。 She attacked with more strength； parried with greater swiftness； counterattacked with more terror。 Slowly； she was moving the field of battle across the tatami mats of the dojo； until Fukuda was nearly backed up against the edge of the battlefield。 To step outside the perimeter onto the polished wooden floor would mean defeat。
Now Honno expanded her wa to its fullest and； as she did so； her body went limp。 The bokken dropped from her hands； and as Fukuda's wooden sword slashed downward