butterflies, dressed in their finest silks and looking beautiful beyond
compare.
I looked up at my father after passing several of these
striking geisha, “One day I will become a geisha just like them. That
is what I want to be, Father.”
He smiled down at me and laughed, “Why my sweet little
Aya, being a geisha is not a life for you. What would my business
partners think of a man who allows his daughter to enter into such a
life?” he asked me.
I stopped for a moment, seriously considering his question.
“They would say, that with a daughter as beautiful as yours, there is
no better life for her. She will surely put all other geisha to shame.”
My father must have found this very amusing, for he
laughed greatly at my sentiment. The sound came rolling out of his
chest in the most melodious of ways. After a few moments to gather
his wits, he took my hand and we continued onward, stopping at a
cart selling inari zushi near the bridge that would lead us back across
the river.
My father was a well-known businessman dealing in Arita
Porcelain, which he personally procured and brought into Edo
himself, twice a month, from the small town in Saga Prefecture on the
island of Kyūshū. Because of my father’s dedication to procuring only
the finest pieces, he was quite wealthy and highly respected. Even the
Emperor himself had purchases obtained from my father’s business.
In this, we had always lived a luxuriant lifestyle.
I glanced at the sun, “Father, shall we return home now?” I
asked. “I have my calligraphy lesson soon.” We strolled across the
bridge enjoying the delicious inari zushi, so warm and tasty.
“You’re quite right Aya. I must also meet with Yamashita-
san about a small business matter,” he said, reaching down and
89