The Stories Stitched in Cloth

 “Now, wretched Prince Kamo Yoshitsuna, behold - thy demise!”

“MERCY!” Masa wailed, trembling and sobbing as Toshi raised his sword.

The crowd around them laughed; the sword was comically large, making it difficult for the fat man to even raise it overhead. They roared in delight as the villainly lord faltered and nearly hit the young prince several times. Toshi’s feints and Masa’s squeals of terror drew in more spectators; curious men, women and children all stopped to watch the two boldly dressed men in the middle of the street.

“MY LORD!” A heady but strong voice rang from their ranks as a slender figure in a red kimono burst forth from the crowd. “I admonish you to stop this folly!”

Several women cheered as the Lady Teruha pleaded with her Lord to not execute their prisoner in front of the shrine. Men stuck their heads together and murmured, eyes glued to the elegant figure despite knowing they were watching a man in a wig.

“Silence, woman!” Toshi bellowed, his manic expression amplified with white and green paint strokes. The crowd booed as he roughly pushed Yasu aside. “I fear not the wrath of gods! The Prince dies - right here!” Again he raised the giant sword, and this time, no one laughed.

“SHIBARAKU!”

A voice boomed from overhead, halting the execution. Both actors and crowd craned their necks upwards, looking around for the source. Suddenly, a young woman gasped.

“Look! Up there!”

Confused cheers and shouts began to rise as people pointed to the imposing figure standing on the awning of a building overlooking the scene. He was dressed in wide, flamboyant red garments that billowed in the breeze, matching the bold red stripes on his stark-white face. His black wig glinted in the sun like a battle helmet while his sharply lined eyes leered at the crowd below.

Kaoru waited until the noise built to a satisfactory volume. Then he jumped.

Cheers changed to screams from men and women alike. People covered their mouths and their eyes. A young child began to cry.

Up on the second floor of the theater, Yuame too covered his face with his hand.

He’s overdoing it, again…

The figure in red barely fell; he floated, as if his enormous clothes carried him on the wind. People scattered from beneath him, only to turn and gawk. Then the excited screams started anew, leaving the entire street in an uproar as the mysterious hero hit the ground and struck a pose.

Yuame sighed and shook his head, returning to his needlework. He had already lost count on how many times he had seen Kaoru perform this trick over the past few days. But with a constant crowd streaming between here and the Sensoji, they could repeat the same short play as often as they wanted and still receive a grand response every time.

As he fixed up the collar of the kimono in his hands, he half listened to Kaoru’s heroic monologue. His voice carried all the way up to the second floor, projecting outwards just like Toshi had taught him. The crowd was silent while he spoke, hanging on his lips; though a few whistles and catcalls were made. Yuame rolled his eyes, knowing that Kaoru was eliciting these responses himself; prolonged eye-contact, bated breath, and sometimes a less than subtle brush past a member of the audience would make anyone swoon for him. The tanuki was eating it all up, pouring his effort in every attention-fueled performance until the whole street roared and clapped for him.

A thread snapped between his teeth. With a sigh, Yuame placed the finished garment aside, staring at the pile of unfinished projects that somehow remained larger. Still, he would not complain. He had chosen this, after all.

Convincing the actors that he would not join their ranks was an ongoing effort. When he told them the next day, Toshi and Kaoru had pleaded, Masa had pouted, but Yasu had merely hummed. Yuame immediately proposed other ways for him to be useful - and though he still tried to persuade him, finally Toshi had conceded, made newly aware of the myriad of tasks that came with running a theatre.

Thus, Yuame had put himself in charge of their garments, stage materials and props. Though his sewing experience was limited to simple fixes to his and Kaoru’s travel gear, he turned out to have more expertise than the others combined. His nimble fingers and overall patience lent itself well to the tedious work, and soon he was able to fix outfits and accessories, spruce up old rags, and even repurpose out of use garments into new ones.

He also learned how to dress the actors. Working with their garments gave him a quick understanding of how they were layered and how the illusions of different body types could be achieved. All actors had an extensive wardrobe, but as the troupe’s performer of female roles, Yasu’s outfits consisted of numerous layers, belts and cords without counting his accessories. When the actor had asked him how he was picking this up so quickly, Yuame nearly slipped up with the truth; that he had once too often seen women’s garments being undone, so this was simply the same process in reverse…

Yasu, after realizing Yuame was not after his position as onnagata, had considerably warmed up to him. He would spend most time with the bald man if he was not rehearsing, and Yasu actually took time to help Yuame by sorting fabrics and unraveling old outfits. Kaoru and Toshi had weaponized their incompetence and stayed away, lest they spill sake on anything. Masa, when he wasn’t following either Kaoru or Toshi around, sometimes tried to help, though usually sat for hours just watching Yuame work. It didn’t bother him.

That evening, bent over more needlework by oil-lantern light, Yuame first learned their stories. While folding a threadbare, well-loved kimono, Yasu suddenly uttered how his mother had never minded it when he wore her garments as a boy. His older sisters had not either. Only his father had.

“Black and blue he’d beat me if I was caught. As if he had nothing better to do. Well, he probably didn’t. All he ever did was drink and gamble in town while our crops rotted on the field. Then one day, he never came back. Deserted us, or died, I have no idea. Anyway, we all did much better after that. My sisters found husbands and new homes. Mom was well until a harsh winter did her in. I already knew then I was never meant to be a farmer. So I packed up her kimono, and came here.”

Yuame and Masa, who had joined them, listened to him silently. After a pause, Masa softly told them how he had also run away from home. His family were merchants in Shinagawa.

“I always try to stay away from the river, just in case… I’m still scared they’ll find me.”

“And do what? Drag you home by the ear? You’re not a child anymore.” Yasu sniffed, though his tone was not unkind.

The topic shifted to the absent members. Masa and Yasu gossiped that Toshi was actually from samurai descent. It made sense to Yuame; something in the older man’s presence betrayed signs of a higher upbringing, his personality carrying remnants of a previously sheltered boy.

For a moment, he marveled how in this era of peace, all of these different backgrounds and social classes had come together in this district, this particular theater. But he could not do so comfortably for long: Yasu and Masa were keen to hear more about Kaoru, and about himself. He was able to content them with minor details and vague explanations; that Kaoru hailed from Arima, that they met in a small border town near the capital, and had decided to travel to Edo together.

“And what were you hoping to find here, Y-Yuame-hime?”

“Eh?” Yuame blinked, caught off guard by the question. Masa blushed. Yasu leaned forward, intrigued.

He thought for a moment, needle and thread forgotten in his hand. Then he smiled, the lanternlight reflected in his large eyes.

“Myself, I suppose.”

Masa smiled widely, but Yasu leaned back with a disappointed yawn. “Unoriginal. And unnecessarily complicated. Settle for money or sex like the rest of us.”

“Ohh, are we talking about sex?”

As if summoned, Toshi appeared from behind a stack of boxes, his round cheeks flushed with alcohol. Kaoru trailed behind him, equally red, a goofy grin plastered to his face. 

Crates were pulled up and sake was passed around. Sighing, Yuame put down his work. He would much rather continue sewing and avoid this topic altogether.

“Good work today too, everyone!” Toshi spoke solemnly, clinking his jug to everyone’s cup before drinking straight from the mouth. Kaoru did the same with his jug.

“Before I make my announcement, first - hic - acknowledgements! Masa and I switching roles for Shibaraku was a good plan. I admit playing the villain is a lot of fun.”

“It suits you! And you were the only one who could lift the sword,” Kaoru cheered, his eyes sliding to Masa. The taller male’s smile faded. Yuame shot Kaoru a glare.

“Secondly; I know we have only rehearsed a few times, and you’ve shown progress. But please try to stick to Gongorou’s monologue tomorrow, Kaoru-dono.”

“Eh, the crowd loved it, so what’s the issue?” Kaoru shrugged, taking another deep swig. Toshi seemed to want to say more, but finally let it go. “Well then, my announcement… After tomorrow’s performance, it’s time for another… expedition!”

Everyone cheered, except for Yuame, who tilted his head. Masa leaned in to whisper in his ear. “It means we’re all going to Yoshiwara.” He blushed heavily suddenly. Yuame could nearly feel the heat radiating from his face.

Across from them, Kaoru noisily scraped his throat. Masa quickly retreated.

“As usual, first drinks are on me. The rest is up to your ambitions,” Toshi smirked.

Yuame fidgeted with his cup. He wondered if he should say what he was thinking aloud; that he had no intention to visit the pleasure district, let alone leave this place during the night.

By now he was ready to accept that he had imagined the figure in the mist. The other actors had merely warned him that walking anywhere alone at night was dangerous. It wasn’t uncommon to run into a rogue samurai, itching to test their sword. About dangers other than humans, he had not heard them speak. Perhaps his tired mind had conjured it after all.

Before he could say anything, Kaoru had spoken up. “There is something I don’t get… Why do you go to Yoshiwara, Yasu-hime?” he asked, scratching his cheek as he turned to the onnagata. “Since you’re not into… you know.”

Yasu threw him a most pitiful look. “Young man. Yoshiwara caters to more tastes than you can imagine. And while you may look at a courtesan and only care about what’s beneath the layers she wears - I study them. I observe them. I become them. The gestures they employ, the tools and instruments they use, the fabrics and patterns they choose. That is what I bring back here. Much more useful than a hangover and a questionable itch down there.”

Thoroughly humbled, Kaoru took a noisy swallow. Yasu smirked, satisfied. Catching Yuame’s eye, he winked at him. “I do find women beautiful and fascinating - as long as they keep their clothes on.”

Yuame nodded, happy to share an agreement. Yasu’s words had deeply impressed him, and sparked his interest.

Toshi hummed, curiously observing him, before he said: “Forgive me for asking Yuame-hime, but which is it you prefer? Sloping hills, soft, wet shores… or, like Yasu, the opposite of those?” His gaze flicked from Yuame to Kaoru.

There was an awkward silence. Yuame swallowed. “Uhm…”

He had - involuntarily - seen all kinds of coupling over the years while he lived in the brothel, so his feelings on the act, let alone the participants, were close to indifferent. If it was a matter of mutual consent he could find it endearing, but more often than not the motivation had been vile and feral.

In this company, what was he supposed to answer? His eyes flicked to Kaoru as well, for guidance, but the tanuki only stared back at him. As if he were waiting for an answer, too.

Suddenly, Yasu piped up with an improvised poem: “A farmer with his plow, or a monk with his staff; give me any man who wields a big tool proudly with skill!”

After a moment, Kaoru was the first to break, his belly-laugh infecting the rest. Soon raucous laughter filled the theater, with even Yuame joining in.

He silently thanked Yasu for looking out for him. And if anything, he had become slightly more curious about Yoshiwara.