“The, ahh, ahh-” Stammering with excitement, Tokugawa Tsunayoshi trembled beside Yanagisawa. “The Dream of the Red Chamber.”
Boldly Yanagisawa sat on the dais and read from the classic, erotic Chinese novel. His reading, perfected by childhood study and punishment, was flawless. He paused between passages, smiling provocatively into Tsunayoshi’s eyes. Tsunayoshi blushed. Yanagisawa held out his hand. Eagerly the future shogun grasped it.
There was a knock at the door, and an official entered. “Your Excellency, it’s time for your meeting with the Council of Elders. They’re to brief you on the state of the nation and solicit your opinion on new government policies.”
“I, ahh… I’m busy now. Can’t it wait? Besides, I don’t think I have any opinions on anything.” Tsunayoshi looked to Yanagisawa, as if for rescue.
At that moment, Yanagisawa saw his path to the future he’d envisioned. He would be Tsunayoshi’s companion, and furnish the views that the foolish dictator lacked. Through Tokugawa Tsunayoshi, Yanagisawa would rule Japan. He would wield the shogun’s power of life and death over its citizens.
“We’ll both attend the meeting,” he said. The official frowned at his impertinence, but Tsunayoshi nodded meekly. As they left the room together, Yanagisawa whispered to his new lord, “When the meeting is over, we shall have all the time in the world to become acquainted.”
When Tokugawa Tsunayoshi assumed the position of shogun, Yanagisawa became chamberlain. Former superiors fell under his control. He seized Lord Takei’s lands, turning the daimyo and all his retainers- including Yanagisawa’s father-out to fend for themselves. Yanagisawa received urgent letters from his impoverished parents, begging for mercy. With a gleeful sense of vindication, he denied aid to the family that had brought him up to be exactly what he was. Yet Yanagisawa never forgot how precarious a position he held. The shogun doted on him, but new rivals vied constantly for Tsunayoshi’s changeable favor. Yanagisawa dominated the bakufu, but no regime lasted forever.
Senior Elder Makino’s crackly voice drew Chamberlain Yanagisawa out of his ruminations. “We should discuss the possible epidemic and plan how to prevent serious consequences.”
“There will be no epidemic,” Yanagisawa said. As the sky’s brightness diminished, forest trails vanished into the tangle of trees, but Yanagisawa maintained his pace. “Lady Harume was poisoned.”
The elders gasped and exclaimed. “Poisoned?” “But we’ve heard nothing of this.” “How do you know?”
“Oh, I have ways of learning things.” Chamberlain Yanagisawa had spies in the Large Interior, as well as everywhere else in Edo. These agents maintained surveillance on important people, eavesdropping on their conversations and riffling through their belongings.
“There will be trouble,” Makino said. “What shall we do?”
“We needn’t do anything,” Yanagisawa said. “Sōsakan Sano is investigating the murder.”
Suddenly a brilliant plan burst into his mind. By using Lady Harume’s murder case, he could destroy Sano-and his other rival. Yanagisawa wanted to rejoice aloud, but the plan required extreme discretion. He needed the sort of accomplice not offered by the present company.
Halting the procession in a clearing, Chamberlain Yanagisawa told his entourage, “You may go home now.” The elders departed in relief; only Yanagisawa’s personal attendants remained. “I wish rest and refreshment, " he said.”Put up my shelter.”
The servants unloaded supplies and erected an enclosure like those used by generals as battlefield headquarters: white silk curtains hung from a square frame, open to the sky. Inside they spread futons, lit lanterns and charcoal braziers, and set out sake and food. With bodyguards stationed outside, Yanagisawa smugly reclined on a futon. He had no real need for this makeshift shelter, with the entire castle at his disposal. But he loved the spectacle of other men toiling for his comfort, the clandestine air of a night rendezvous outdoors. And was he not akin to a general, marshaling his troops for an attack?
“Bring Shichisaburō here,” Chamberlain Yanagisawa ordered a servant, who ran off to comply.
As Yanagisawa waited, the sensual thrill of lust increased his excitement. Shichisaburō, leading actor of the Tokugawa No theater troupe, was his current paramour. Schooled in the venerable tradition and practice of manly love, he also had other uses…
Soon the silk curtains parted, and Shichisaburō entered. Fourteen years old, small for his age, he wore his hair in the style of a samurai boy: crown shaven, with a long forelock tied back from his brow. His red and gold brocade theatrical robe covered a figure as gracefully slender as a willow sapling. Kneeling, Shichisaburō bowed.
“I await your orders, Honorable Chamberlain,” he murmured.
Yanagisawa sat upright as his heartbeat quickened. “Rise,” he said, “and approach.” He tasted desire, raw and salty as blood. “Sit beside me.”
The youth obeyed, and Yanagisawa gazed possessively upon his face, admiring the exquisite nose, tapered chin, and high cheekbones; smooth, childish skin; rosy lips like a delicious fruit. Shichisaburō’s wide, expressive eyes, aglow in the lantern light, reflected a gratifying eagerness to please. Yanagisawa smiled. Shichisaburō came from a distinguished theatrical family that had entertained emperors for centuries. Now the family’s great talent, concentrated in this youth, was Yanagisawa’s to command.
“Pour me a drink,” Chamberlain Yanagisawa ordered, adding magnanimously, “and one for yourself.”
“Yes, master. Thank you, master!” Shichisaburō lifted the sake decanter. “Oh, but the liquor is cold. Please allow me to warm it for you. And may I serve other refreshments for your delectation?”
Yanagisawa looked on with delight as the young actor set the decanter on the charcoal brazier and laid rice cakes on a plate. At the beginning of their affair, Shichisaburō had spoken and behaved with adolescent gaucheness, but he was intelligent, and had quickly adopted Yanagisawa’s speech patterns; now, the big words and long, complicated sentences issued from him with mature fluency. When not abasing himself as custom dictated, he also assumed the chamberlain’s bearing: head high, shoulders back, movements swift, impatient, but smoothed by natural grace. This flattering mimicry pleased Yanagisawa greatly.
They drank the warm sake. His face rosy from the liquor, Shichisaburō said, “Have you had a difficult day ruling the nation, master? Shall I soothe you?”
Chamberlain Yanagisawa lay down on the futon. Shichisaburō’s hands moved over his neck and back, easing the stiff muscles, arousing desire. Though tempted to roll over and pull the boy against him, Yanagisawa resisted the urge. They had business to discuss first.
“It’s an honor to touch you.” Fingers rubbing, stroking, teasing, Shichisaburō whispered close to Yanagisawa’s ear: “When we’re apart, I yearn for the time when we can be together again.”
Yanagisawa knew he was only acting and didn’t mean a word of what he said, but this didn’t bother Yanagisawa at all. How wonderful that someone respected him enough to exert all this effort to please!
“At night I dream of you, and-and I must confess an embarrassing secret.” Shichisaburō’s voice trembled convincingly. “Sometimes my desire for you is so great that I caress myself and pretend you are touching me. I hope that this does not offend you?”
“Far from it.” Yanagisawa chuckled. The actor, despite his talent and heritage, was a commoner, a nobody. He was weak, naïve, pathetic, and another man might consider his words an insult. Yet Chamberlain Yanagisawa relished the charade as proof that he was no longer the helpless victim, but the omnipotent user of other men. He had flunkies instead of friends. He’d married a wealthy woman related to the Tokugawa clan, but kept a distance from her and their five-year-old daughter, for whom he’d already begun seeking a politically advantageous match. He didn’t care if everyone despised him, as long as they obeyed his orders. Shichisaburō’s pretense aroused Yanagisawa; power was the ultimate aphrodisiac.