He stared at the dead fish, then went to move one of the rocks behind the pond. Using his bare hands to make a shallow hole in the soft earth underneath, he laid the fish in it. Then he replaced the rock.

He had missed Tamako’s funeral.

The day they returned from Kyushu, his sister Akiko and her husband Toshikage had arrived before Akitada had been able to do more than greet his children and flee to his room. In the weeks of travel, he had tried to prepare himself for this homecoming. He had built a shell around his heart, impervious to the raw emotions he would encounter and feel. It had not worked. When he had stepped out onto the veranda, grief had seized him so violently that he had been forced to grasp hold of the support beam or his knees would have buckled.

Akiko had burst in at that moment, crying out her pity for him, clasping him in her arms, looking him over, informing him that he looked dreadful, and then she had sat him down to describe in detail Tamako’s death and the subsequent decisions she had made for a proper funeral, complete with procession and cremation at Toribeno.

He had somehow borne it, saying nothing, trying to shut out her voice, and yet hearing words that would haunted him forever. He should be grateful to his sister for performing these duties in his absence, but he could not bring himself to thank her. Toshikage had finally interrupted her steady flow of chatter, saying, “My dear, Akitada looks dreadfully tired. We must let him rest now.”

Months had passed since then, and his grief had not become less.

He dusted the dirt off his hands, rinsing them in the pond, when Tora’s voice startled him.

“Sorry, sir, but you didn’t hear me. There’s a visitor.”

Akitada straightened, drying his hands on the lining of his full sleeves.

Beside Tora stood a short gentleman, who was, for such a young man, very properly and formally dressed in black robe and trousers and soft hat. Someone with a message from the ministry? Or something even worse? A summons before the board of censors?

He was a little surprised how calm he was. There was a time when the expectation of a reprimand from his superiors would have had him in a cold sweat. Now he just looked at the young official and nodded.

The young man bowed rather deeply for someone bringing bad news. “My name is Motonari, your Excellency. Superintendent Kobe has asked me to present myself. He said you might need a tutor for your children.”

“Ah, yes. Yes, he did mention it. It will be temporary only. I cannot well deprive him of you permanently. Let’s go inside and sit down.” Akitada glanced at Tora, who left.

He sat down behind his desk, and the young man took a seat opposite him. Akitada noticed for the first time the thick layer of dust covering his desk, his writing utensils, and assorted papers and books. He felt a little ashamed. The young man waited expectantly.

“I have a daughter, Yasuko, who is eight. She writes and reads moderately well. My son, Yoshitada, is only five. I’ve been absent and don’t know how much schooling he’s had. How old are the superintendent’s children?”

The young tutor bowed. “I only teach the boys. At present, I have five pupils. His Excellency’s oldest son is twelve, his second son is ten, his third son is also ten, his fourth son is eight, and his youngest is seven. I have taught them now for nearly a year.” He paused and added, “Ever since I graduated from the university.”

Akitada digested this information. For all that Kobe and he had become good friends over the years—after rather stormy beginnings—he had been unaware of the superintendent’s thriving family. Like most men of rank, Kobe had several wives, which accounted for so many sons, some close in age. He had never had more than one wife. Except for once, he had not wished for more. Tamako had filled his whole world. No doubt, he would soon be pressured to take another wife, or wives. But it was best not to dwell on his situation. What interested him about Kobe’s family was the fact that apparently no girls were included in the lessons. He asked about this.

“His Excellency believes that his daughters are better served being taught by their mothers. Only the boys need to learn to read, write, and speak Chinese.”

Another painful reminder of Tamako. She had received an excellent education from her father, who had been a professor at the Imperial University. Their own daughter Yasuko had benefited greatly from this. Even he had been impressed by how well she wrote when he received their letters. Tamako’s death was a great loss to the children. Perhaps Yoshi was too young, but surely Yasuko must miss her terribly. He sighed.

The tutor moved restlessly, probably wondering at the long silences in their conversation. Akitada pulled himself together. “I’d like my daughter to receive the same instruction as boys of her age,” he said. “And there will be another boy. He is Yuki, Tora’s son. He’s a year older than my daughter, but I don’t know how much instruction he has had. It will be as well if he joins the lessons.” He was aware how negligent he had been. Not only had he not kept up with his own children, but he had made no provisions for Tora’s son. Heaven forbid Yuki should grow up illiterate like his father.

Motonari bowed. “As you wish, your Excellency. But as for teaching Chinese to young ladies …”

“Why not? I believe she may already have some rudiments. She was taught by her mother who was the only child of a professor at the Imperial University.”

“Ah, I see. My salary is paid by the superintendent, so there is no charge.”

“Nonsense. You will receive ten pieces of silver for a month’s work. If the superintendent can spare you for two hours a day, I would be grateful.”

The young man flushed with pleasure and bowed very deeply. “Thank you, sir. I could start now, if it’s convenient” he offered.

Akitada rose. “Very well. After their lessons, I hope you will set them work to do until the next day. Now let me introduce you to the children.”

They took the east gallery to Tamako’s pavilion. It was still a very difficult journey for Akitada. The knowledge that she would never again be found in her room or garden twisted his stomach.

Oyuki was inside with some sewing. Perhaps it was another gown for Yasuko. Akitada tried not to look at the fabric. If it was one of Tamako’s gowns, it would bring back memories. The children were outside, kicking a kemari ball around. He called them in. Yuki had grown remarkably tall in the past months. Akitada explained about the lessons and made the introductions.

The children looked aghast. Yuki said quickly, “Well, that leaves me out. Bye.” He was almost out the door, when Akitada said, “No, Yuki. You, too. It’s time you stopped wasting your days with play.”

Yuki looked offended. “I help in the stables, sir.”

“Yes, I know, but I also want you to learn to read and write. So come back here. Master Motonari has kindly offered to start teaching all of you. He also teaches the sons of Superintendent Kobe so you must work really hard to make a good impression. Will you do this?”

The children nodded. Yoshi stared at the tutor. He had evidently become speechless at the notion of lessons, but Yasuko smiled and made a little bow to the young man. “Welcome, Master Motonari,” she said. “Will you teach me also?”

The tutor smiled. “Yes, Lady Yasuko. Your father wishes it.”

Reassured, she glanced up at her father. “I will work extra hard, Father. For Mother’s sake.” Her eyes filled with tears.

Akitada choked on his own grief, briefly touched her head, and turned to flee. His escape was preempted by the arrival of his sister, who had three of her children with her.

Akitada’s irritation served to stifle the sickness that had seized him. He took a deep breath. “Akiko,” he said sharply, “You must let me know your plans in the future. This is Master Motonari who has come to start the children’s lessons. As they are here, your brood may benefit by joining them. You and I will go to my room.”