Saiyuu no Ryokou: The Continuing Adventures of Yuriko
The Story So Far: Yuriko and Midori have survived a trying and emotional encounter in
front of a live television studio audience. The ripples they caused are, at least, making
good gossip. There are more stories to be told than theirs, however.
Volume 2, Issue 15
"Telling Tales"
Midori looked at Yuriko, who shrugged. "I don’t know – we basically said
that you have to be who you are, and that people should judge you on the quality of your
work." She shook her head. "I can’t for the life of me imagine why that
would cause her to fly off the handle."
"Me neither," Yuriko agreed. "I remember saying that people who judge
you on other things were kind of sad, really, and that sometimes people want more of you
as a "name" than you can be expected to give."
"How wonderful," Sakura breathed. "I bet that blew her and her stodgy
audience away."
"Yeah," Misono agreed pleasantly. "But I wonder why she freaked out?
Maybe," the evil grin flashed once again, "it’s just that you defeated her
on her home turf."
As the four walked through the night, the conversation passed on to more pleasant
topics.
"What’s that light over there?" Yuriko pointed towards a pale light that
streamed between two trees.
"That’s Auntie Ritsuko’s studio." Sakura yawned delicately. "I
think I’d better head off to bed now – I’m beat. Too much sun and fresh
air."
"That fresh air’ll get you every time," Yuriko agreed. "Next time
you’re in the city, drop by and we’ll get our fill of polluted city air."
"Will do!" Sakura gave her the thumbs up happily. Misono took the opportunity
to leave as well, since her family was leaving early the next day.
"Nice kids," Yuriko said, wrapping and arm around Midori’s waist.
When Midori answered, she sounded surprised, "Yes," she agreed, "they
really are. They're much smarter and more aware of things than I was at their age."
She laughed and laid her head on the idol's shoulder. "They terrify me."
***
The light inside the studio was far brighter than Yuriko had expected. Somewhere, half
buried in her psyche, was an image of the stereotypical artisan laboring far into the
night, hunched over their craft, peering closely in dim candlelight. Instead, the shed was
brightly lit and filled with state-of-the-art equipment.
Although the place was strewn with half finished works and materials, there was a
meticulous neatness apparent on every surface. Ritsuko was no haphazard genius, Yuriko
thought. The idol took in some of the pieces on the shelves and blew a low whistle. Not
haphazard, but *definitely* genius. Yuri didn’t know much about porcelain, but she
knew what she liked – and she liked what she saw.
"I’ll be right out!" Ritsuko’s voice came from behind a door.
"And here I am!" she smiled at the two women as she entered the small room.
"I’m just packing up a few pieces in the back." Her words were neutral, but
Yuriko could see that her eyes were on fire – this was important work she was doing
and, for all her apparent modesty, she knew it.
"Ritsuko," Midori gestured at a work in progress, "Is this the piece you
told me about? It’s even more magnificent than I imagined."
Yuriko nodded in earnest agreement. Under the lights, the painted porcelain glowed with
a light of its own. "I know very little about porcelain, " she said, "but
to my eye, this truly is a masterwork."
Blushing, Ritsuko assured them that it was nothing of the sort. To distract attention
from the piece, the young woman offered them a tour of the small space. She described the
process of firing porcelain, and the several methods of decorating the china.
"The center of Kutani-yaki is Kanazawa," Ritsuko warmed to her topic. Her
face colored with intense pleasure and Yuriko found herself as interested in the speaker
as the topic. It would be obvious to anyone that Ritsuko was having a passionate love
affair with her work. Yuriko smiled into Midori’s eyes, and the writer grinned up at
her, as they shared a moment of joy in Ritsuko’s art.
"Have you finished that one platter you mentioned last spring?" Midori asked,
when the tide of porceliana has at last receded.
Ritsuko shook her head sadly. "I’m not sure I *can* finish it, to be
honest."
"Why not?"
The young woman shot the two women a rueful smile. "My muse has disappeared."
She sighed. "I think I made a mistake when I tried to base a piece on a local
myth." She addressed Yuriko directly. "You probably don’t know about our
little local legend," she smiled.
"Very local legend," Midori chuckled. "The land the house is built on is
haunted by a female spirit...well, to be more precise the trees in front of the house. Do
you mind if I tell the story?"
Ritsuko shook her head. "Not at all," she said gratefully. "You tell
stories better than anyone else I know."
Midori looked at her surroundings, shifted a can or two, and pushed a few design
sketches away from the edge of a table, then propped herself on the corner. Settling in,
she closed her eyes and began with the usual formula.
"Once upon a time, a very long time ago, there was a poor woodsman."
Yuriko shivered a little, partially from the damp, cool night air that seeped into the
shed, but mostly from the feeling that crept up her back, lifting the hair on her neck.
Yuriko always loved a good ghost story. She smiled in anticipation.
"The woodsman was very lonely, because he lived in the hills, far away from the
nearest town, in a dark forest where people were afraid to go. He made a meager living by
collecting firewood, making charcoal from it, and selling it to the townspeople, but they
did not welcome him. In truth, they were afraid of him, for his labors had left him with a
hunched back and sallow skin from lack of sun. From his lonely existence, his voice had
become rough and course with disuse.
"One day, the woodsman was out collecting wood when he heard a scream. Assuming it
to be a wild animal, he hesitated, but when it came again, he knew that it was human. He
ran through the underbrush towards the noise, when he heard a third scream directly ahead
of him. With a leap over a fallen tree, he found find a rabid wolf, with foam pouring from
its mouth, menacing a young woman. The girl screamed again, this time at the
woodsman’s appearance. The wolf turned from the newcomer to face its new prey and the
woodsman acted quickly. Grabbing two stout sticks, he ran, shouting, and swung with all
his might at the wolf. The creature swayed where it stood, and the woodsman began to beat
it as hard as he could with his strong arms until it collapsed to the ground, dead.
"The woodsman looked down at the girl in surprise, then pulled back in fear. The
woodsman, shocked by the girl’s beauty, hid his face and asked if she was hurt. She
answered that she was scared, but unharmed. Still hiding his ugliness from her, the
woodsman implored her to return home, that the woods were dangerous. But the girl, having
seen the man’s kind and brave nature, was not afraid of him - in fact she had fallen
in love with him instantly, knowing that his rough face hid a noble and beautiful heart.
"The woodsman shuffled off quickly, fearing that the family of such a beauty would
come looking for her and, if they found him with her, might think he had kidnapped her.
All night long he lay in his hut, trembling with terror, waiting for the search party to
come and kill him.
"The next morning the woodsman awoke to the smell of a fire and rice cooking.
Coming out of his hut, he saw the young woman tending a fire over which she cooked his
breakfast. When she saw him, she smiled at him happily. His body began to shake, not with
fear, but with desire,
"For three days, the woodsman tried to convince the girl to return to her home,
but she would not listen. When he asked her why, she only said that she had nowhere to
return. After a week, the woodsman could stand it no longer. His life had been so lonely
and this girl was too beautiful and too strong to be denied – he took her to be is
wife.
"For a year, they lived in happiness together in the dark woods. But the day came
when the woodsman had to go to town to sell his wood and charcoal, and to buy supplies for
the coming winter. He entered the town with a joyous smile, thinking of his wife...and the
child that they would soon have. But as soon as the townspeople saw him, they surrounded
him and accused him of the kidnapping, rape and murder of the lost girl.
"The headman of the town would not listen to his protests and the crowd, spurred
on by fear and anger, began to stone the woodsman. The mob beat him to death in the town
square, never hearing his assurances that the girl was alive and well. With his last
breath, he called out his wife’s name and died from a blow struck by the headman.
"In the woods, the girl lay in pain from labor for a long time. Her husband was to
have come back already, but he had not returned. As her husband lay dying in town, gasping
her name, she shrieked with the pain of their son being born. The child was a healthy
young boy, who bore his mother’s beauty and his father’s name
"The woman raised the boy alone in the forest until he was old enough able to
assist her with gathering wood and finding food. But every night, after the boy fell
asleep, she would go out into the woods and stand, weeping, under the dark pines, for her
misunderstood husband. It had not been hard to figure out what had happened to her
husband, and she planned, in the dark, how to best seek revenge. At last, her son was old
enough to go to town. His mother, who had never returned to her former home, gave him a
seal and told him to take it to the headman. ‘When you are in front of him,’ she
said, ‘tell him that you are his grandson.’
"The boy did exactly as he was told and was received with great amazement by the
people of the town. The headman embraced him fiercely and asked news of his mother. The
headman begged on his knees for news of his daughter, who had disappeared so long ago. The
boy told the man that he had just left her live and well in the woods. The headman and the
townspeople asked the boy to lead them to her and he saw no reason to deny them. He led
them to the clearing where he made his home.
"When they entered the hut in the deep woods, they were greeted with a macabre
sight – the woman sat on her knees, blood pooling on the ground beneath her. The
headman rushed forward, crying her name, but she looked up at him with tears on her
cheeks. In front of her son and the people of the town, she accused the headman of two
heinous crimes – assault upon his only daughter and the unjust death of her husband.
With bitter cries, the headman fell to his knees and confessed his guilt. His daughter,
with her last breath, told the woodsman that his soul was now free. Then she died in her
son’s arms."
Midori opened her eyes slowly. "On dark nights, under the pines that surround the
lake, if you listen carefully, you can hear the sobbing of a young woman as she waits for
her husband to return to her." The writer smiled at the look on Yuri’s face, as
silence fell in the little room.
Ritsuko shifted. "That story always makes my hair stand on end. So, what do you
think?" she asked the idol.
Both women looked at the blonde for a reaction. Yuriko pulled her glasses off, wiped
the lenses and pushed them back on the bridge of her nose. Meeting Midori’s eyes,
then Ritsuko’s, she opened her mouth, then closed it again with a snap.
"I think," she said at last, "I think I heard her."
Continued
Saiyuu no Ryokou, all characters and situations copyright E. Friedman and Yurikon LLC. All Rights Reserved.