


When the huge doors were closed, I turned back to the Chairman to answer his question. As 
an apprentice I was free to sit as quietly as an arrangement of flowers, if I wanted to; but I 
was determined not to let this opportunity pass. Even if I made only the slightest impression 
on him, like a child's foot might make on a dusty floor, at least it would be a start. 

"The Chairman asked if this is my first encounter with sumo," I said. "It is, and I would be 
very grateful for anything the Chairman might be kind enough to explain to me." 

"If you want to know what's going on," said Nobu, "you'd better talk to me. What is your 
name, apprentice? I couldn't hear well with the noise of the crowd." 

I turned away from the Chairman with as much difficulty as a hungry child turns away from a 
plate of food. 

"My name is Sayuri, sir," I said. 

"You're Mameha's younger sister; why aren't you 'Mame' something-or-other?" Nobu went 
on. "Isn't that one of your foolish traditions?" 

"Yes, sir. But all the names with 'Mame' turned out to be inauspicious for me, according to 
the fortune-teller." 

"The fortune-teller," Nobu said with contempt. "Is he the one who picked your name for you?" 

"I'm the one who picked it," Mameha said. "The fortune-teller doesn't pick names; he only 
tells us if they're acceptable." 

"One day, Mameha," Nobu replied, "you'll grow up and stop listening to fools." 

"Now, now, Nobu-san," said the Chairman, "anyone hearing you talk would think you're the 
most modern man in the nation. Yet I've never known anyone who believes more strongly in 
destiny than you do." 

"Every man has his destiny. But who needs to go to a fortuneteller to find it? Do I go to a chef 
to find out if I'm hungry?" Nobu said. 

"Anyway, Sayuri is a very pretty name-though pretty names and pretty girls don't always go 
together." 

I was beginning to wonder if his next comment would be something like, "What an ugly 
younger sister you've taken on, Mameha!" or some such thing. But to my relief, he said: 

"Here's a case where the name and the girl go together. I believe she may be even prettier 
than you, Mameha!" 

"Nobu-san! No woman likes to hear that she isn't the prettiest creature around." 

"Especially you, eh? Well, you'd better get used to it. She has especially beautiful eyes. Turn 
toward me, Sayuri, so I can have another look at them." 

I couldn't very well look down at the mats, since Nobu wanted to see my eyes. Nor could I 
stare directly back at him without seeming too forward. So after my gaze slipped around a 
little, like trying to find a footing on ice, I finally let it settle in the region of his chin. If I could 
have willed my eyes to stop seeing, I would certainly have done it; because Nobu's features 
looked like poorly sculpted clay. You must remember that I knew nothing as yet about the 


tragedy that had disfigured him. When I wondered what had happened to him, I couldn't stop 
that terrible feeling of heaviness. 

"Your eyes certainly do shimmer in a most startling way," he said. 

At that moment a small door opened along the outside of the hall, and a man entered 
wearing an exceptionally formal kimono with a high black cap on his head, looking as if he'd 
stepped directly out of a painting of the Imperial court. He made his way down the aisle, 
leading a procession of wrestlers so huge they had to crouch to pass through the doorway. 

"What do you know about sumo, young girl?" Nobu asked me. 

"Only that the wrestlers are as big as whales, sir," I said. "There's a man working in Gion who 
was once a sumo wrestler." 

"You must mean Awajiumi. He's sitting just over there, you know." With his one hand, Nobu 
pointed toward another tier where Awajiumi sat, laughing about something, with Korin next to 
him. She must have spotted me, for she gave a little smile and then leaned in to say 
something to Awajiumi, who looked in our direction. 

"He was never much of a wrestler," Nobu said. "He liked to slam his opponents with his 
shoulder. It never worked, stupid man, but it broke his collarbone plenty of times." 

By now the wrestlers had all entered the building and stood around the base of the mound. 
One by one their names were announced, and they climbed up and arranged themselves in 
a circle 
facing the audience. Later, as they made their way out of the hall again so the wrestlers of 
the opposing side could begin their procession, Nobu said to me: 

"That rope in a circle on the ground marks the ring. The first wrestler to be shoved outside it, 
or to touch the mound with anything but his feet, is the loser. It may sound easy, but how 
would you like to try pushing one of those giants over that rope?" 

"I suppose I could come up behind him with wooden clappers," I said, "and hope to scare him 
so badly he'd jump out." 

"Be serious," Nobu said. 

I won't pretend this was a particularly clever thing for me to have said, but it was one of my 
first efforts at joking with a man. I felt so embarrassed, I couldn't think what to say. Then the 
Chairman leaned toward me. 

"Nobu-san doesn't joke about sumo," he said quietly. 

"I don't make jokes about the three things that matter most in life," Nobu said. "Sumo, 
business, and war." 

"My goodness, I think that was a sort of joke," Mameha said. "Does that mean you're 
contradicting yourself?" 

"If you were watching a battle," Nobu said to me, "or for that matter sitting in the midst of a 
business meeting, would you understand what was happening?" 

I wasn't sure what he meant, but I could tell from his tone that he expected me to say no. 
"Oh, not at all," I answered. 


"Exactly. And you can't expect to understand what's going on in sumo, either. So you can 
laugh at Mameha's little jokes or you can listen to me and learn what it all means." 

"He's tried to teach me about it over the years," the Chairman said quietly to me, "but I'm a 
very poor student." 

"The Chairman is a brilliant man," Nobu said. "He's a poor student of sumo because he 
doesn't care about it. He wouldn't even be here this afternoon, except that he was generous 
enough to accept my proposal that Iwamura Electric be a sponsor of the exhibition." 

By now both teams had finished their ring-entering ceremonies. Two more special 
ceremonies followed, one for each of the two yokozuna. A yokozuna is the very highest rank 
in sumo-"just like Mameha's position in Gion," as Nobu explained it to me. I had no reason to 
doubt him; but if Mameha ever took half as much time entering a party as these yokozuna 
took entering the ring, she'd certainly never be invited back. The second of the two was short 
and had a most remarkable face-not at all flabby, but chiseled like stone, and with a jaw that 
made me think of the squared front end of a fishing boat. The audience cheered him so 
loudly I covered my ears. His name was Miyagiyama, and if you know sumo at all, you'll 
understand why they cheered as they did. 

"He is the greatest wrestler I have ever seen," Nobu told me. 

Just before the bouts were ready to begin, the announcer listed the winner's prizes. One was 
a considerable sum of cash offered by Nobu Toshikazu, president of the Iwamura Electric 
Company. Nobu seemed very annoyed when he heard this and said, "What a fool! The 
money isn't from me, it's from Iwamura Electric. I apologize, Chairman. I'll call someone over 
to have the announcer correct his mistake." 

"There's no mistake, Nobu. Considering the great debt I owe you, it's the least I can do." 

"The Chairman is too generous," Nobu said. "I'm very grateful." And with this, he passed a 
sake cup to the Chairman and filled it, and the two of them drank together. 

When the first wrestlers entered the ring, I expected the bout to begin right away. Instead 
they spent five minutes or more tossing salt on the mound and squatting in order to tip their 
bodies to one side and raise a leg high in the air before slamming it down. From time to time 
they crouched, glowering into each other's eyes, but just when I thought they were going to 
charge, one would stand and stroll away to scoop up another handful of salt. Finally, when I 
wasn't expecting it, it happened. They slammed into each other, grabbing at loincloths; but 
within an instant, one had shoved the other off balance and the match was over. The 
audience clapped and shouted, but Nobu just shook his head and said, "Poor technique." 

During the bouts that followed, I often felt that one ear was linked to my mind and the other to 
my heart; because on one side I listened to what Nobu told me-and much of it was 
interesting. But the sound of the Chairman's voice on the other side, as he went on talking 
with Mameha, always distracted me. 

An hour or more passed, and then the movement of a brilliant color in Awajiumi's section 
caught my eye. It was an orange silk flower swaying in a woman's hair as she took her place 
on her knees. At first I thought it was Korin, and that she had changed her kimono. But then I 
saw it wasn't Korin at all; it was Hatsumomo. 

To see her there when I hadn't expected her ... I felt a jolt as if I'd stepped on an electric wire. 
Surely it was only a matter of time before she found a way of humiliating me, even here in 


this giant hall amid hundreds of people. I didn't mind her making a fool of me in front of a 
crowd, if it had to happen; but I couldn't bear the thought of looking like a fool in front of the 
Chairman. I felt such a hotness in my throat, I could hardly even pretend to listen when Nobu 
began telling me something about the two wrestlers climbing onto the mound. When I looked 
at Mameha, she flicked her eyes toward Hatsumomo, and then said, "Chairman, forgive me, I 
have to excuse myself. It occurs to me Sayuri may want to do the 