Hitsu waved the boy forward. With awkward movements the boy rose, padded forward softly, and placed the box on the dais, just to Theodore's right. He bowed raggedly before returning to his place behind the kuromaku'sleft shoulder.
"Nezumi- sanhas atoned," Hitsu stated.
Theodore didn't need to look into the softly humming box to know that it held the refrigerated head of Yasir Nezumi. The oyabunhad paid for his ambitious mistake with his life. He also suddenly realized that the boy must be Nezumi's son.
"Nezumi- sanwas rash," Hitsu continued. "But he was mine as oyabunof the oyabun."The old man ignored Theodore's start at his announcement.
"Nezumi- san'sshame is canceled by his act. My shame remains. As his oyabun,his actions are my actions, and his honor is mine.
"He used your name in unknowing contravention of your will. His ignorance was, of course, no excuse. He acted without my permission or consent, which he would not have received even had I knowledge of his plans. But neither is my ignorance an excuse."
As he spoke, Hitsu removed a pair of white handkerchiefs from an inner pocket, one silk and one cotton. He laid them on the floor in front of himself, silk to the left, cotton to the right.
"This is unnecessary," Theodore protested, suddenly aware of the old man's intent. Yubitsume.The ritual finger-cutting atonement of the yakuza. Though he wished to forbid the action, he knew that it was bad form to refuse. And this man was necessary to Theodore, to the Combine. If Theodore refused his offering, the old man's sense of honor would be outraged. Hitsu would slit his belly in shame. Theodore could not allow that. Even before he had known that Hitsu was oyabunof the oyabun,he had felt that the man's resources, advice, and knowledge were immensely valuable to the Combine. "Your intent is sufficient for me, Hitsu -san."
The old man closed his eyes briefly, but said nothing. Instead, he removed a plain, scabbarded knife from within his jacket. With deliberate slowness, he freed the shining steel from the lacquered wood. Placing the scabbard at his left side, he laid the knife down at his right knee, edge toward himself. Hitsu placed his palms flat against the tatamimats and bowed deeply. He straightened and extended his left hand, palm down and fisted except for an extended little finger, to rest on the mat. He took the knife in his right hand, reaching across to rest the edge against the first joint.
Theodore dropped his eyes and nodded, unwilling to let the old man mutilate himself more than the minimum. He heard the crackle of cartilage as the blade bit home. When Theodore looked up again, Hitsu had wrapped the cotton cloth around his shortened finger, holding its loose ends in his fist. The old man pushed forward his offering, wrapped in the silk handkerchief.
"Please accept my apologies."
Theodore reached out and took the offering. He placed it by his right side, next to the lacquer box. Unsure of the proper ritual response, he bowed.
"Domo, Tono."Hitsu bowed. "Honor is satisfied, and I have business that requires my attention. With your permission?"
Theodore nodded. The oyabunof the oyabunstood stiffly and walked from the room clothed in his dignity, his shame washed away in blood. The boy, green-faced, followed.
The Kanrei remained kneeling, contemplating the box and the small white package with its incarnadine stain at one end.
"You handled that well."
Startled from his musing, Theodore spun. He had risen halfway to his feet and started to pull his gun from its holster before he realized that he knew the voice. Too well. He returned the Nambu to its resting place and fastened the flap. He finished standing and bowed.
Praise was something he was not used to hearing from his father.
Takashi smiled tightly as he slid the painted panel closed behind himself, obviously relishing the surprise Theodore had not quite suppressed. "You still need better control if you are to be Coordinator."
"I don't want to be Coordinator."
Takashi barked a short laugh. "Do you think I did?"
Of course you did,Theodore replied silently. It's your life.Aloud, he said, "You've embraced the office wholeheartedly."
"Hai.I have." Takashi stepped down from the dais and walked to the outer wall. He opened the shojipanels, letting in sunlight as he spoke. "I was very unhappy when my father Hohiro recalled me to Luthien. All I looked for was a life serving the Dragon. I was a warrior, the strong arm of the Dragon who savaged our enemies. But my father knew that the Combine needed a strong heir. One who was more than a simple samurai.
"It is curious, is it not, that our greatest enemy has a similar history? Hanse Davion also wished to be a simple soldier. It is said that the Fox was raised to expect other things from his life than the burden of rulership. But he had an elder brother to insulate him from the concerns of state while I had only my blind devotion to the Dragon. When Yorinaga Kurita killed Davion's older brother Ian on Mallory's World and Hanse became Prince, he did not have the benefit of training at the court before taking his office. But he has prospered nonetheless.
"He did not wish the burden. Nor did I."
Nor I,Theodore echoed in his thoughts.
"Personal desire is a weakness," Takashi asserted. "I learned that as I learned what the Dragon required of me. Courage. Audacity. Tenacity. In time I learned the wisdom of a ruler. The foremost tenet of that cruel wisdom is that one must, and will, do whatever is necessary for the health of the realm. It was an education."
I have been educated, too,Theodore thought. How strange that I should hear you speak my own thoughts. Frightening, too. I had never thought of you that way.
"I won't take the office from you. Being Kanrei is enough for me."
"The office,"Takashi hissed. "You cannot still be so naive to believe that I would be satisfied with an empty title. You have done all you can to usurp my power, and you pretend that you spare me by leaving me a title. Powermatters, boy! Not titles. Why you have balked at taking my life as well eludes me. Unless the reason lies in your weakness."
Theodore wanted to ignore the barb, but found himself trying to defend his position, knowing all the while that his defense was just the sort of weakness his father meant. "Being Kanrei is sufficient for me."
"A transparent subterfuge," Takashi accused.
"Iie.It is a matter of honor."
"What honor is there in a weakling?"
"Honor lies not in strength but in integrity. The teachers you yourself set before me drilled that very deep. The ancient code of bushidois a warrior's ethic, but it draws deeply from the well of Confucian wisdom. The ancient sage laid down laws, laws I have sought to follow. One of those dicta, repeated in our own family's book of honor, states that a man may not live under the same heavens as the slayer of his father. To me that dictum means more than a simple justification for seeking revenge for a death.
"I won't be ... I can't be ... a patricide."
"You are weak."
Theodore said nothing.
"But perhaps not so weak as I have previously thought," Takashi conceded. "Though you have had some success in penning me until now, you still do not have the strength to be the Dragon."
"You're blind to my strength, then. It's there. You've molded your successor better than you think."
Takashi looked at him thoughtfully. "I will admit that you have had successes. Some have even impressed me. But those are soldier's victories. They give you no experience in the higher strategies of ruling a realm. The days for a ruler's wisdom are come again. Already the fighting fades, and we return to the old ways of raiding and harassment. The time of your eminence is past. I shall find the cracks in the walls you have built around me and escape your snares. I will again take up the power that is rightfully mine."