Chapter 2:

Machi

An Artist from Osaka


Osaka, Kansai – June 1830

Machi sat watching ships drift lazily into the bay, their sails billowing in a distant haze. They all looked the same from so far away, but she liked to hope that each one approaching the shore would be carrying Kenta. With each arrival her heart leapt and then sank as she read the name of the ships; Raito Maru, Nishi Maru, Fukai Maru. None were familiar to her.

Mr Hirumoto had given her leave for the day and she did not intend to spend it all waiting. It was late in the afternoon but the sun still scorched her neck as she stood up and looked around. Further along the shore between throngs of traders, she spotted a group of dockworkers sitting in a circle with Natsu gleefully observing their activity. Her brow furrowed as Natsu cheered along with the latest dice roll.

She heard a dockmaster yell out in their direction and suddenly the workers were on their feet, scurrying away to help unload a ship. Machi made her way across to Natsu and grasped her hand.

What have I told you?

Natsu shied away from her mother’s scorn, but she was quickly pulled back.

I said what have I told you?

To stay close.

And?

To not speak to the sailors.

Yes, that’s it.

But they were not sailors, Mother.

Machi nudged her slightly in annoyance.

Ouch.

Don’t be disrespectful.

Natsu bowed her head in response.

Are you hungry?

Yes. But I want to wait for Father.

He will come home whether we wait for him or not. The letter from Nagasaki said he would arrive today but only if the weather allowed for safe passage.

It has been warm and windy here for weeks.

Yes, but perhaps it has not been the same for him. Come on.

Machi began to walk towards the market stretching the shoreline with a reluctant Natsu in tow. At this time of the day, many traders were desperately shouting over one another to attract the remaining onlookers as footfall began to reduce. The fresh fish was all but gone leaving behind fishmongers slashing their prices to sell the remaining haul which was full of defects - both real and imagined. She could afford to avoid buying fish at this time of the day but sharply remembered a time when it was all she knew.

Natsu let go of her briefly and began wandering towards a stall selling brightly coloured textiles that had recently arrived from Tokyo. She quickly grabbed her hand and pulled her away from approaching the stall, eyeing the upper-class merchants currently browsing its wares.

Her position was highly privileged, yet here she was not recognisable. She was the gardener of Mr Hirumoto’s estate. He was a powerful businessman, owning a sizeable trading fleet which travelled between Japan and China. Machi was mindful that her actions at any time could potentially bring her employer into disrepute, so she took steps to avoid anyone with potential influence in the maritime industry. She recalled earlier in the summer when she stopped briefly to admire a consignment of porcelain from the Netherlands, their shape and colour had captured her attention from across the market. The merchant observed her lips moving as she quietly read the signs detailing the history of the wares. He was startled at her homely appearance and simple attire.

You can read?

She was taken aback for a moment, forgetting herself. She shook her head and moved on. Mr Hirumoto had allowed her to sit in on some of his daughter's tutoring so she could learn reading and writing to support the administration of his estate. She was not confident enough in her abilities to reveal this to anyone but her own family. From the moment she began learning she held night classes with Natsu to pass on her prized knowledge whilst she still could. Natsu did not like to read or write, but she was easily persuaded through some of the goods that Kenta brought home. She did her best to discourage it at first but found Natsu to be at her happiest when she was painting. Women born into rich families were able to produce art, but she was aware of none who were able to become renowned for it. She feared for Natsu when she boldly declared that she would become famous for her art. It was difficult to take her seriously with her fingers grubby with charcoal, her cheeks blackened from constantly touching them and her hair running wild about her determined face. But she did. Kenta brought her paint and brushes simply to humour her, believing that Natsu’s dream would disappear as she grew up and realised the way of the world. Machi knew better, which is why she worked so hard.

The passing clouds gave them a brief respite from the sun's glare as they walked towards a stall selling fruit. She bought fruit as often as she could because Natsu enjoyed painting the textures.

What would you like?

Natsu looked back and forth between the peaches and apricots.

I’m not sure, she hinted.

Machi walked away from the stall carrying both, much to her displeasure. They carried on further when she suddenly felt Natsu pulling her sideways and pointing.

Mother look!

She followed Natsu’s direction and saw the Tappuri Maru beginning to dock. Kenta was just finishing some last-minute preparations with the other sailors when he noticed them and began to wave.

Natsu waved wildly back and began to skip towards the spot where he would depart the ship. Machi followed at a slower pace to steady her hammering heart before she would greet him. Countless arrivals had come before today but every time he departed she was reminded of all the sailors that did not come back. Mr Hirumoto had lost three ships in the last year to sudden storms, to see Kenta return was always a blessing.

As dockworkers surged past her to begin unloading the ship, she watched Kenta pick up Natsu and spin her around in delight. He approached her whilst still carrying Natsu and she fell into his warm embrace.

I’m home. 

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