ericlustbader.the ninja-第99节
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'Justine。 I came here …'
'And I don't care any more if you know it。'
'… to tell you I love you。〃
Tears rolled silently from her eyes。 The air was as thick as honey with music： aching voices； insinuating rhythms； erotic percussion。 'Please。' Had she heard him？
'I love you。' They touched in a kind of radiation of energy and misspent emotion。 'Justine； I …'
It's not the side effects of the cocaine / I'm thinking that it must be love / It's too late to be grateful / It's too late to be late again I It's too late to be hateful / It's too late 。。。 f It's too late。。。
'。。。 cried in the sand in front of your house with this night / And the sea and that's never happened to me before。' And he thought； lying on the long pale sea…foam sofa with Justine's long warm body next to his： You're wrong； Croaker。 I can feel。 I do feel。
'Don't be ashamed of it。'
'I'm not。' The first faint crumbling of his past； sliding downwards to be buried at last beneath the churning waves of the sea。 'I wouldn't have told you otherwise。〃
'It makes me happy。' She put her fingers on his hip as if searching for a lock to open； 'To know that you can be grateful to me for something。' Stockinged； her legs whispered one against the other like cicadas' wings。 'The way I am grateful to you。'
'It's a new feeling。' She watched his eyes turning inward； listening to his words。 'What I did to you was so cruel。 But I did it … I did it out of self…defence； a kind of survival instinct。 I suddenly felt how close you had e to the core of me and it reminded me…'
Her long hair brushed his shoulder。 'Of what？'
〃The sea； a long time ago； the mist and a ferry ride through a cyclorama of Japan。' His lips stayed half open even when he was silent； tidal breathing as one does when dreaming。 'It reminded me of a girl I once loved。 The trouble was then； I thought I was still in love with her。'
'Where is she now？'
'I don't know。 She could be anywhere … anywhere。' She could feel the rise and fall of his chest and abdomen； as regular as the tide。 'She told 'me she loved me … she convinced me … I didn't know anyone could be that good at deceit。。。'
She smiled； half hidden in the dark。 'If you'd been a woman； you'd know all right。'
'Sometimes I think sex is for the animals。'
It was quiet for some time； just the intermittent hiss of late…night traffic passing outside； remote and inconsequential。 Jus…tine was surprised more by his tone； she had never before heard such bitterness and she found herself wondering just what had transpired between him and that girl so long ago。
Tm jealous；' she said。 She thought she might be taking an awful chance。 'I'm jealous of how much of yourself you gave to her。' He was quiet； beside her。 'Never again； Nicholas？' Only her side and hair touched him。 'Who is being punished？'
When he spoke； his voice was tight。 With what was he struggling？ 'She made me 。。。 feel。。。〃
'What？'
'Feel； just feel。〃
'Is that so terrible？〃
'And then she left me。 She went off with。。。' And he told her what he had never told anyone； flooded with shame。
Justine put her warm lips against his ear； whispered； 'Unzip me； Nicholas。〃
He reached out。 It came as the rasp of a log cracking； burnt through； subsiding into the hot ashes of the grate。
The top of her breasts shone palely in the firelight like the swelling crests of the sea at dawn。 Here； too； there were depths to be plumbed。 But the tugging he felt now went beyond his loins； a kind of tidal wash； covering his whole body； sweeping into his head。 'I missed you so much。' And not； any more； Yukio。
She could feel how that had been torn out of him。 'Yes；' she whispered。 'I can see that now。 I felt old and tired without you there。〃 She shrugged out of her shoulder straps。
'Let's not make love right away。'
Her eyes were glittery so close to him； the little fire in the far one like a beckoning beacon homeward bound。
'Say it again。'
'Justine； words sometimes have no meaning at all。'
'Then what does？'
His arms encircled her。 'I'll hold you；' he whispered。 'And you hold me。'
Her fingers brushed his skin； moving。
Fukashigi； the kenjutsu master； awoke at first light with the tendrils of something still in his mind。
The world； this early； was fog…shrouded； familiar landmarks rendered as in a pointillist painting。
Not a dream。 Fukashigi did not carry such things into the waking world。
Something had dragged him away from sleep。 The tendrils swirled。
And immediately he thought of Nicholas。
It must be time then。 And despite all his wisdom； Fukashigi felt the slight thrill of fear shiver him。
He had thought about this time often during long nights when sleep eluded him and now he knew that he had been deluding himself； thinking that this day might never dawn。
Here it was； after all this time。
Time； he knew full well； meant absolutely nothing。
Even with the distances involved； he felt the psychic tuggings like a storm pulling at the moorings of a ship。
The long years in China and Japan seemed like a mist…shrouded dream to him； like the world he saw outside his window。 The mind； he knew； could do much； play many tricks； and he wondered this morning which world was truly more the dream。 In a way； America could never be as real as those days and nights on the Asian shore with their spices and their mysteries。
There had been time then； unlimited time； it had seemed once； to plunge into each more involving puzzle。 And the joy he felt at their eventual unravelling was still unequalled in his life。
There had been； of course； several times when he had cause to regret the life he had carved out for himself。 It was； after all； a most perilous path； fraught with real and imagined dangers every step of the way。
Jealousy racked them all like a perennial ague that could never be fully assuaged。 There was resentment of anyone new。 And especially of one who sought to plumb the depths that had frustrated them all。
And…conquered。
Fukashigi sat up on his futon； hearing his bones creak。 Magic； he thought。 What a misunderstood word。 Typically Western。 He had to laugh。
Then he thought about Nicholas。 He did not envy him but then there was no envy in Fukashigi's heart； Had there been 。。。 Fukashigi shrugged his thin shoulders。
Who knows？ He thought。 But there was excitement inside him again。
Now he thought that he could see clear down to the bottom。
The floor was full of silty hills and fish without colour wove the pattern of their changeless lives through the mud and rocks and sand。
This section of the Straits of Shimonoseki had been haunted for seven hundred years or thereabouts。 Ever since the infant emperor Antoku Tenno perished here in a spectacular sea battle along with every other man； woman and child of his Taira clan at the hands of the Minamoto。
There were frequent reports of sightings of the strange Heike … another name for the Taira … crabs which have human faces on their carapaces and are said to house the kami of the long…dead defeated warriors。
They cannot； it is said in legends； find peace and thus； on fog…blanketed nights； fishermen swear they can see odd spectral fires upon the unquiet waters and they refuse to launch their boats； even when the fish are running； for during these terrible nights； the Heike would rise from the deeps； interfering with passing ships； pulling unwary swimmers downward to their deaths。
And it was to help assuage these lost and unhappy kami that the Buddhists built the temple of Amidaji there。
But now； Saigo thought； it is more than ever a haunted place； this Dan…no…ura； for an outpouring of my own soul lies dead and defeated in those waters； e to join the joyless Heike in their endless journey： there would be no burning fire； no golden lotus hearth for either。
He could see the perfect face lying on the bottom undisturbed as if there were no intervening waves； perfect only now as the features posed themselves in death。 A traditional heroine： the pious daughter； the loyal wife； heart filled with sacrifice； all her grievous sins expunged。
It was good； he told himself。 It was right； it was just。 A death decreed by history。
What else could he have done？
He felt the shortness of breath and the burning tears threatening to destroy his dead eyes with their pitiful flow and he automatically began to chant the Hannya…Shin…Kyo： Form is emptiness； and emptiness is form 。。。 What is emptiness … that is form 。。。 Perception； name； concept and knowledge； are also emptiness
。。。 There is no eye； ear； nose； tongue； body； and mind。。。
In darkness there is sin； in darkness there is death。 Sin negates spirit； and the killing of beings without spirit can only be looked on as an act of charity。
But； but； but … how could there be love where sin exists？ This was a question that had tortured him for years； more than any other one thing； shaping his life。 And as he asked himself the impossible question again； he pounded his closed fists against his forehead and cheekbones； seeking to destroy that within himself which remained perversely recalcitrant。 He could no more drive the memory of her from him than he could relinquish his name and it was just this terrifying obstinacy within himself
