Tora gave her a bear hug, much to her delight, and then went along the hallway and into a large room where five boisterous men were sitting around a brazier warming bottles of wine.

"You're late, Tora," cried a scrawny fellow with permanently bowed legs and a sunken chest. He was the tatami-maker Ueda, his physique the result of generations of Uedas sitting cross-legged and bent over straw mats. "We had to start without you. There's room next to Kichibei."

Tora grinned and flopped down next to a muscular, heavily tatooed porter, who shouted, "Bring more wine! A very thirsty fellow has just arrived."

"He's not the only one," grumbled a pudgy young man in the thread-bare blue robe of a minor clerk, turning an empty bottle upside down.

"You'll never make a night of it at your rate, Danjuro!" teased his middle-aged neighbor who was a potter and never could get all the red clay from under his fingernails. "We've pooled our money, Tora. Fifty coppers will cover food, drink and the bounciest little bottom in the quarter."

"Sorry, Osada." Tora pulled the remnants of his wages from his sash and counted the coppers on the string. "Fifteen is all I can spare tonight."

After some cries of protest, Osada said, "Well, you can eat and drink, but it's not enough for any real fun."

Tora handed over the fifteen coppers with a sigh. "I was hoping to bring my own girl," he said, "but I couldn't find one in time."

"You should make your master pay you more," suggested Danjuro. "I plan to celebrate the festival of blossoms properly, among the local 'blossoms.' But then, they don't work for nothing."

"I prefer to do the work myself," Tora said. "You poor fellows must be so out of practice that you have to pay for the action." Danjuro joined in the general laughter and raised his cup to Tora.

"Well put, Tora," applauded the gray-haired man. "Never mind your empty purse!" he told Tora consolingly. "You just eat and drink your fill, and if you should pass out from too much wine, you'll never know what you missed."

"Thanks, Kunisada," laughed Tora. "That's good advice from a pharmacist. I'm parched and starving at the same time. Where's the food?"

A waitress arrived with more warm rice wine. After cheerful discussion, they ordered a feast which included eggs, fish soup, marinated kisu fish and boiled chestnuts among other delicacies.

Tora drank deeply from his cup, refilled it, and looked around at the shining faces of his companions. "Here's to good company," he cried. "May we enjoy each other for many years."

"What?" cried Danjuro, moving away from him in mock horror. "Are you mad? I don't care what you think about my prowess, but you are much too bony for my taste. My appetite's for female flesh. I hope you haven't decided to sleep with one of us."

Tora grinned, shaking his head. "Sleeping is about all I'm doing tonight. It's not been my day. I was looking forward to a pleasant afternoon browsing about the markets and shops, but got an earful from a snooty merchant and a couple of crooked officials."

"What happened?" asked Kunisada.

"Any of you fellows know a silk peddler called Kurata?"

"You mean the big shop in Sameushi Street? Everybody here knows Kurata," said Kunisada.

Danjuro confirmed it. "Kurata! Now there's a lucky fellow with lots of money for women! They say he's had every charmer in the quarter at least once."

The potter burst out laughing. "You haven't heard! Kurata won't be back for a while," he said. "His old woman caught him with one of her maids and beat them both black and blue."

There was general laughter. Danjuro moaned, "Poor bastard! The old hen who lays all the eggs won't let the rooster at the pretty chicks any more."

The porter muttered, "Serves him right! He's a mean bastard! Beats the girls."

"Why doesn't he tell his old woman off?" asked Tora.

"That shop is the biggest in town," cried Ueda, "but it's the wife that owns it."

"How come?"

"He's adopted. Old Kurata's only daughter was so mean and ugly they couldn't find a guy willing to marry her, especially since the old man let it be known that she would keep the property. When she took up with the shop assistant and turned up with child, her father was so pleased he adopted the assistant, giving him his name along with his daughter. Lucky bastard!"

Danjuro sneered, "What's lucky about it? That old hag owns the place and she's at least fifteen years older than him and as ugly as a dried prune."

The waitress arrived with food and served them. Then the door opened again and three elegant female musicians slipped in. The one in front was a little older than the other two, perhaps in her thirties, but still quite handsome in her pale green silk gown with deep red under-robes. She carried a lute. The two girls with her were pretty, one particularly so, thought Tora. They had zithers and wore lilac silk and cream brocade respectively.

The men greeted them with pleasure, and the women bowed. Then they took their seats decorously against one wall and began to play.

Tora was not particularly fond of music, but could not take his eyes off the girl in the lilac gown. When she smiled at him, her cheeks dimpled charmingly. They played a selection of fashionable and popular songs which were well received. Kunisada offered them wine, which the older woman refused politely. Instead she asked for requests, and the company became very jovial. Several more rounds of wine were ordered, and Tora exchanged soulful glances with the pretty zither player. Then Danjuro asked the ladies to dance for them, but they shook their heads, the two girls giggling. Tora looked at his girl and folded his hands in entreaty. She nodded ever so slightly, glancing toward the door. Danjuro was showering all three women with suggestive compliments and, being more than a little drunk, ended up propositioning them. At this point, the older woman rose abruptly and signaled to the girls. All three bowed deeply and were gone.

"Now see what you've done, Danjuro!" grumbled Kunisada. "You have the manners of a pig. Don't you know a respectable musician from a streetwalker? You have insulted the famous Madame Sakaki."

But Danjuro only laughed and shouted for women. Immediately the auntie shoved in a gaggle of brightly robed and heavily made-up girls. In the confusion of shouting men and squealing females, Tora slipped from the room.

He caught up with the musicians as they were preparing to leave. "Wait, little sisters!" he called.

They stopped at the door, and the older woman said sharply, "I beg to be excused, sir. We have another party to play for."

Tora bowed to her. "Madame Sakaki," he said imploringly. "Please forgive the rude behavior of my friend. He was quite drunk with wine and your beauty. It is too bad he has no ear for music. As for me," he lied, "I only came to hear you play. Please allow me to invite you all to a nice dinner after your work is done. I want to make up for the unpleasantness."

Madame Sakaki smiled a little, but shook her head. "It is kind of you, sir, but quite impossible."

Tora hung his head. "I understand," he said. "It was a pleasure to hear a true artist. I have heard of a lute player who takes lessons from a professor at the university. Could it be you?"

Madame Sakaki flushed and drew herself up sharply. "No," she snapped. "That is Omaki. Now you must excuse us." She bowed and hurried off. The two younger women followed, the pretty one with a wink.