e the woman was standing, or even if she was in the courtyard at the time I fell out of 
the sky. But she must have seen me come down off that roof, because as I lay stunned on 
the ground I heard her say: 

"Good heavens! It's raining little girls!" 

Well, I would have liked to jump to my feet and run out, but I couldn't do it. One whole side of 
my body felt dipped in pain. Slowly I became aware of two women kneeling over me. One 
kept saying something again and again, but I couldn't make it out. They talked between 
themselves and then picked me up from the moss and sat me on the wooden walkway. I 
remember only one fragment of their conversation. 

"I'm telling you, she came off the roof, ma'am." 

"Why on earth was she carrying toilet slippers with her? Did you go up there to use the toilet, 
little girl? Can you hear me? What a dangerous thing to do! You're lucky you didn't break into 
pieces when you fell!" 

"She can't hear you, ma'am. Look at her eyes." 

"Of course she can hear me. Say something, little girl!" 

But I couldn't say anything. All I could do was think about how 

Satsu would be waiting for me opposite the Minamiza Theater, and I 

would never show up. 

The maid was sent up the street to knock on doors until she found where I'd come from, 
while I lay curled up in a ball in a state of shock. I was crying without tears and holding my 


arm, which hurt terribly, when suddenly I felt myself pulled to my feet and slapped across the 
face. 

"Foolish, foolish girl!" said a voice. Auntie was standing before me in a rage, and then she 
pulled me out of that okiya and behind her up the street. When we reached our okiya, she 
leaned me up against the wooden door and slapped me again across the face. 

"Do you know what you've done?" she said to me, but I couldn't answer. "What were you 
thinking! Well, you've ruined everything for yourself ... of all the stupid things! Foolish, foolish 
girl!" 

I'd never imagined Auntie could be so angry. She dragged me into the courtyard and threw 
me onto my stomach on the walkway. I began to cry in earnest now, for I knew what was 
coming. But this time instead of beating me halfheartedly as she had before, Auntie poured a 
bucket of water over my robe to make-the rod sting all the more, and then struck me so hard 
I couldn't even draw a breath. When she was done beating me, she threw the rod onto the 
ground and rolled me over onto my back. "You'll never be a geisha now," she cried. "I 
warned you not to make a mistake like this! And now there's nothing I or anyone else can do 
to help you." 

I heard nothing more of what she said because of the terrible screams from farther up the 
walkway. Granny was giving Pumpkin a beating for not having kept a better eye on me. 

As it turned out, I'd broken my arm landing as I had in that courtyard. The next morning a 
doctor came and took me to a clinic nearby. It was late afternoon already by the time I was 
brought back to the okiya with a plaster cast on my arm. I was still in terrible pain, but Mother 
called me immediately to her room. For a long while she sat staring at me, patting Taku with 
one hand and holding her pipe in her mouth with the other. 

"Do you know how much I paid for you?" she said to me at last. 

"No, ma'am," I answered. "But you're going to tell me you paid more than I'm worth." 

I won't say this was a polite way to respond. In fact, I thought Mother might slap me for it, but 
I was beyond caring. It seemed to me nothing in the world would ever be right again. Mother 
clenched her teeth together and gave a few coughs in that strange laugh of hers. 

"You're right about that!" she said. "Half a yen might have been more than you're worth. Well, 
I had the impression you were clever. But you're not clever enough to know what's good for 
you." 

She went back to puffing at her pipe for a while, and then she said, "I paid seventy-five yen 
for you, that's what I paid. Then you went and ruined a kimono, and stole a brooch, and now 
you've broken your arm, so I'll be adding medical expenses to your debts as well. Plus you 
have your meals and lessons, and just this morning I heard from the mistress of the Tatsuyo, 
over in Miyagawa-cho, that your older sister has run away. The mistress there still hasn't paid 
me what she owes. Now she tells me she's not going to do it! I'll add that to your debt as 
well, but what difference will it make? You already owe more than you'll ever repay." 

So Satsu had escaped. I'd spent the day wondering, and now I had my answer. I wanted to 
feel happy for her, but I couldn't. 

"I suppose you could repay it after ten or fifteen years as a geisha," she went on, "if you 
happened to be a success. But who would invest another sen in a girl who runs away?" 


I wasn't sure how to reply to any of this, so I told Mother I was sorry. She'd been talking to 
me pleasantly enough until then, but after my apology, she put her pipe on the table and 
stuck out her jaw so much-from anger, I suppose-that she gave me the impression of an 
animal about to strike. 

"Sorry, are you? I was a fool to invest so much money in you in the first place. You're 
probably the most expensive maid in all of Gion! If I could sell off your bones to pay back 
some of your debts, why, I'd rip them right out of your body!" 

With this, she ordered me out of the room and put her pipe back into her mouth. 

My lip was trembling when I left, but I held my feelings in; for there on the landing stood 
Hatsumomo. Mr. Bekku was waiting to finish tying her obi while Auntie, with a handkerchief 
in her hand, stood in front of Hatsumomo, peering into her eyes. 

"Well, it's all smeared," Auntie said. "There's nothing more I can do. You'll have to finish your 
little cry and redo your makeup afterward." 

I knew exactly why Hatsumomo was crying. Her boyfriend had stopped seeing her, now that 
she'd been barred from bringing him to the okiya. I'd learned this the morning before and felt 
certain Hatsumomo was going to blame her troubles on me. I was eager to get down the 
stairs before she spotted me, but it was already too late. She snatched the handkerchief from 
Auntie's hand and made a gesture calling me over. I certainly didn't want to go, but I couldn't 
refuse. 

"You've got no business with Chiyo," Auntie said to her. "Just go into your room and finish 
your makeup." 

Hatsumomo didn't reply, but drew me into her room and shut the door behind us. 

"I've spent days trying to decide exactly how I ought to ruin your life," she said to me. "But 
now you've tried to run away, and done it for me! I don't know whether to feel pleased. I was 
looking forward to doing it myself." 

It was very rude of me, but I bowed to Hatsumomo and slid open the door to let myself out 
without replying. She might have struck me for it, but she only followed me into the hall and 
said, "If you wonder what it will be like as a maid all your life, just have a talk with Auntie! 
Already you're like two ends of the same piece of string. She has her broken hip; you have 
your broken arm. Perhaps one day you'll even look like a man, just the way Auntie does!" 

"There you go, Hatsumomo," Auntie said. "Show us that famous charm of yours." 

Back when I was a little girl of five or six, and had never so much as thought about Kyoto 
once in all my life, I knew a little boy named Noboru in our village. I'm sure he was a nice 
boy, but he had a very unpleasant smell, and I think that's why he was so unpopular. 
Whenever he spoke, all the other children paid him no more attention than if a bird had 
chirped or a frog had croaked, and poor Noboru often sat right down on the ground and 
cried. In the months after my failed escape, I came to understand just what life must have 
been like for him; because no one spoke to me at all unless it was to give me an order. 
Mother had always treated me as though I were only a puff of smoke, for she had more 
important things on her mind. But now all the maids, and the cook, and Granny did the same. 

All that bitter cold winter, I wondered what had become of Satsu, and of my mother and 
father. Most nights when I lay on my futon I was sick with anxiety, and felt a pit inside myself 
as big and empty as if the whole world were nothing more than a giant hall empty of people. 


To comfort myself I closed my eyes and imagined that I was walking along the path beside 
the sea cliffs in Yoroido. I knew it so well I could picture myself there as vividly as if I really 
had run away with Satsu and was back at home again. In my mind I rushed toward our tipsy 
house holding Satsu's hand-though I had never held her hand before- knowing that in 
another few moments we would be reunited with our mother and father. I never did manage 
to reach the house in these fantasies; perhaps I was too afraid of what I might find there, and 
in any case, it was the trip along the path that seemed to comfort me. Then at some point I 
would hear the cough of one of the maids near me, or the embarrassing sound of Granny 
passing wind with a groan, and in that instant the smell of the sea air dissolved, the coarse 
dirt of the path beneath my feet turned into the sheets of my futon once again, and I was left 
where I'd started with nothing but my own loneliness. 

When spring came, the cherry trees blossomed in Maruyama Park, and no one in Kyoto 
seemed to talk about anything else. Hatsumomo was busier than usual during the daytime 
because of all the blossom-viewing parties. I envied her the bustling life I saw her prepare for 
every afternoon. I'd already begun to give up my hopes of awakening one night to find that 
Satsu had sneaked into our okiya to rescue me, or that in some other way I might hear word 
of my family in Yoroido. Then one morning as Mother a