were in the middle of 
being operated upon, but I felt such relief I broke into a smile. Something about the whole 
experience seemed so utterly ridiculous to me; the more I thought about it, the funnier it 
seemed, and in a moment I was laughing. I had to keep quiet because the Doctor was in the 
next room. But to think that the course of my entire future had been altered by this? I 
imagined the mistress of the Ichiriki making telephone calls to Nobu and the Baron while the 
bidding was under way, all the money that had been spent, and all the trouble. How strange 
it would have been with Nobu, since I was beginning to think of him as a friend. I didn't even 
want to wonder what it might have been like with the Baron. 

While the Doctor was still in the bath, I tapped on the door to Mr. Bekku's room. A maid 
rushed in to change the bedsheets, and Mr. Bekku came to help me put on a sleeping robe. 
Later, after the Doctor had fallen asleep, I got up again and bathed quietly. Mameha had 
instructed me to stay awake all night, in case the Doctor should awaken and need 
something. But even though I tried not to sleep, I couldn't help drifting off. I did manage to 
awaken in the morning in time to make myself presentable before the Doctor saw me. 


After breakfast, I saw Dr. Crab to the front door of the inn and helped him into his shoes. Just 
before he walked away, he thanked me for the evening and gave me a small package. I 
couldn't make up my mind whether it might be a jewel like Nobu had given me or a few 
cuttings from the bloody towel of the night before! But when I worked up my courage to open 
it back in the room, it turned out to be a package of Chinese herbs. I didn't know what to 
make of them until I asked Mr. Bekku, who said I should make tea once a day with the herbs 
to discourage pregnancy. "Be cautious with them, because they're very costly," he said. "But 
don't be too cautious. They're still cheaper than an abortion." 

It's strange and very hard to explain, but the world looked different to me after mizuage. 
Pumpkin, who hadn't yet had hers, now seemed inexperienced and childlike to me somehow, 
even though she was older. Mother and Auntie, as well as Hatsumomo and Mameha had all 
been through it, of course, and I was probably much more aware than they were of having 
this peculiar thing in common with them. After mizuage an apprentice wears her hair in a new 
style, and with a red silk band at the base of the pincushion bun, rather than a patterned one. 
For a time 

I was so aware of which apprentices had red hair bands and which had patterned ones that I 
scarcely seemed to notice anything else while walking along the street, or in the hallways of 
the little school. I had a new respect for the ones who had been through mizuage, and felt 
much more worldly than the ones who hadn't. 

I'm sure all apprentices feel changed by the experience of mizuage in much the same way I 
did. But for me it wasn't just a matter of seeing the world differently. My day-to-day life 
changed as well, because of Mother's new view of me. She was the sort of person, I'm sure 
you realize, who noticed things only if they had price tags on them. When she walked down 
the street, her mind was probably working like an abacus: "Oh, there's little Yukiyo, whose 
stupidity cost her poor older sister nearly a hundred yen last year! And here comes Ichimitsu, 
who must be very pleased at the payments her new danna is making." If Mother were to walk 
alongside the Shirakawa Stream on a lovely spring day, when you could almost see beauty 
itself dripping into the water from the tendrils of the cherry trees, she probably wouldn't even 
notice any of it-unless ... I don't know . . . she had a plan to make money from selling the 
trees, or some such thing. 

Before my mizuage, I don't think it made any difference to Mother that Hatsumomo was 
causing trouble for me in Gion. But now that I had a high price tag on me, she put a stop to 
Hatsumomo's trou-blemaking without my even having to ask it of her. I don't know how she 
did it. Probably she just said, "Hatsumomo, if your behavior causes problems for Sayuri and 
costs this okiya money, you'll be the one to pay it!" Ever since my mother had grown ill, my 
life had certainly been difficult; but now for a time, things became remarkably uncomplicated. 
I won't say I never felt tired or disappointed; in fact, I felt tired much of the time. Life in Gion is 
hardly relaxing for the women who make a living there. But it was certainly a great relief to be 
freed from the threat of Hatsumomo. Inside the okiya too, life was almost pleasurable. As the 
adopted daughter, I ate when I wanted. I chose my kimono first instead of waiting for 
Pumpkin to choose hers-and the moment I'd made my choice, Auntie set to work sewing the 
seams to the proper width, and basting the collar onto my underrobe, before she'd touched 
even Hatsumomo's. I didn't mind when Hatsumomo looked at me with resentment and hatred 
because of the special treatment I now received. But when Pumpkin passed me in the okiya 
with a worried look, and kept her eyes averted from mine even when we were face-to-face, it 
caused me terrible pain. I'd always had the feeling our friendship would have grown if only 
circumstances hadn't come between us. I didn't have that feeling any longer. 

With my mizuage behind me, Dr. Crab disappeared from my life almost completely. I say 
"almost" because even though Mameha and I no longer went to the Shirae Teahouse to 
entertain him, I did run into him occasionally at parties in Gion. The Baron, on the other hand, 


I never saw again. I didn't yet know about the role he'd played in driving up the price of my 
mizuage, but as I look back I can understand why Mameha may have wanted to keep us 
apart. Probably I would have felt every bit as uncomfortable around the Baron as Mameha 
would have felt having me there. In any case, I can't pretend I missed either of these men. 

But there was one man I was very eager to see again, and I'm sure I don't need to tell you 
I'm talking about the Chairman. He hadn't played any role in Mameha's plan, so I didn't 
expect my relationship with him to change or come to an end just because my mizuage was 
over. Still, I have to admit I felt very relieved a few weeks afterward to learn that Iwamura 
Electric had called to request my company once again. When I arrived that evening, both the 
Chairman and Nobu were present. In the past I would certainly have gone to sit beside Nobu; 
but now that Mother had adopted me, I wasn't obliged to think of him as my savior any 
longer. As it happened, a space beside the Chairman was vacant, and so with a feeling of 
excitement I went to take it. The Chairman was very cordial when I poured him sake, and 
thanked me by raising his cup in the air before drinking it; but all evening long he never 
looked at me. Whereas Nobu, whenever I glanced in his direction, glared back at me as 
though I were the only person in the room he was aware of. I certainly knew what it was like 
to long for someone, so before the evening was over I made a point of going to spend a bit of 
time with him. I was careful never to ignore him again after this. 

A month or so pass-ed, and then one evening during a party, I happened to mention to Nobu 
that Mameha had arranged for me to appear in a festival in Hiroshima. I wasn't sure he was 
listening when I told him, but the very next day when I returned to the okiya after my lessons, 
I found in my room a new wooden travel trunk he'd sent me as a gift. The trunk was much 
finer even than the one I'd borrowed from Auntie for the Baron's party in Hakone. I felt terribly 
ashamed of myself for having thought I could simply discard Nobu now that he was no longer 
central to any plans Mameha might have had. I wrote him a note of thanks, and told him I 
looked forward to expressing my gratitude in person when I saw him the following week, at a 
large party Iwamura Electric had planned some months in advance. 

But then a peculiar thing happened. Shortly before the party I received a message that my 
company wouldn't be needed after all. Yoko, who worked at the telephone in our okiya, was 
under the impression the party had been canceled. As it happened, I had to go to the Ichiriki 
that night anyway for another party. Just as I was kneeling in the hallway to enter, I saw the 
door to a large banquet room down at the end slide open, and a young geisha named Katsue 
came out. Before she closed the door, I heard what I felt certain was the sound of the 
Chairman's laughter coming from inside the room. I was very puzzled by this, so I rose from 
my knees and went to catch Katsue before she left the teahouse. 

"I'm very sorry to trouble you," I said, "but have you just come from the party given by 
Iwamura Electric?" 

"Yes, it's quite lively. There must be twenty-five geisha and nearly fifty men ..." 

"And . . . Chairman Iwamura and Nobu-san are both there?" I asked her. 

"Not Nobu. Apparently he went home sick this morning. He'll be very sorry to have missed it. 
But the Chairman is there; why do you ask?" 

I muttered something-I don't remember what it was-and she left. 

Up until this moment I'd somehow imagined that the Chairman valued my company as much 
as Nobu did. Now I had to wonder whether it had all been an illusion, and Nobu was the only 
one who cared. 


Chapter twenty-five 

Mameha may already have won her bet with Mother, but she still had quite a stake in my 
future. So during the next few years she worked to make my face familiar to all her best 
customers, and to the other geisha in Gion as well. We were still emerging from the 
Depression at this time; formal banquets weren't as common as Mameha would have liked. 
But she took me to plenty of in