The Book Keeper's Daughter

Chapter 2

   "Papa, will you please tell me the story again?", asked little Daitan Saito.

"But you've heard it a million times by now," her father, Hiroshi, complained.

"But I like when you tell it," Daitan insisted, sitting up in bed, "you always make silly voices." She smiled. Oh, how her smile made him weak.

"I have an idea," Hiroshi paused. "How about you tell me the story?"

"Hmm...alright." Daitan cleared her throat. "There once was a lonely village girl named Aimi. She got taunted and teased everyday, for the smallest of reasons. 'You smell!', they'd poke, or 'Haha, look at the dirty orphan!', they'd tease. This taunting went on for years, until one day, the town's widowed samurai, Arakan, stomped over to a group of Aimi's tormentors and pointed to Aimi. 'You,' the samurai paused. 'Come with me.' Aimi gulped, and obeyed, pulling herself up from a pile of mud the boys had pushed her into not too soon before. 'Yes...sir?' she asked, terrified beyond belief. What would a retired samurai want with her, she asked herself. 'Follow,' he commanded. The samurai took her back to his home, and welcomed her inside. He gave her a bowl of white rice and raw fish, and allowed her to eat at his dining table. That night, the sky poured heavy with rain, and so the samurai allowed her to spend the night sleeping on his floor. This was the beginning of a routine of theirs; Arakan would train Aimi to defend herself in the afternoons, in exchange for help with his crops. He would also allow her at least one meal of rice and fish, and allow her shelter overnight. It was like Aimi wasn't an orphan at all, she had finally found someone to care for her, and no one dared badger her again. And those that were brave enough to mock her were met with bruises and missing teeth. And...?" Daitan paused.

"And?" her father repeated.

"And they lived happily ever after of course! Come on papa, you're not that old!" she teased with a yawn.

He chuckled at her. "Sure mame, now it's time for bed." Hiroshi tucked her into bed, and kissed her forehead. He blew out the half empty candle burning on a little table beside her bed.

"Papa?" her little voice echoed in a sleepy whisper. "You remember that tomorrow is my birthday...right?"

How could he forget? It was the night he became a widower and a father all at the same time. "Of course mame, I have something extra special for you." he whispered. "Now get some rest."

Hiroshi walked into his forer/ bedroom. It was a small house, and the only bedroom, he felt, deserved to be Daitans. He walked over to his kamado, and reached underneath some of the clay pots. He pulled out a small, engraved dagger he planned to give Daitan as a gift. It had cost him more than a month's salary to afford, and even that was not enough. His father's old book shop was not making sales like it used to, and times for the Saiko family were getting desperate. He just figured people were not as interested in reading as they once were.

Before Horoshi had a chance to dwell on his anxieties, he heard a knock at the door. He placed the dagger back in it's hiding spot, and went to go see who could be visiting at this hour. When he pulled back the door, he was met with a familiar grinning face. Goro, he thought, and two other men he did not recognise. Goro forced his way inside, slightly knocking Hiroshi back. He let out a loud chuckle.

"Hiroshi..." he smiled. "It's been a while." Goro strolled back and forth, as if he were surveying the area. "Me and the boys were in town, and that's when I remembered," he mimicked a surprised gasp, "our good friend Hiroshi here, still owed us some money from a loan he took a month back."

Hiroshi gulped. He knew that making a deal with Goro would always be dangerous, and that Goro was not a ronin to be messed with. "I-I don't have it right now...but...if you'd like to come back in, let's say a week or so, I-I should have it." Hiroshi stumbled.

The group of men just stared at him, and began to roar with laughter. "Did you hear that men?" Goro asked between laughs. "He's trying to swindle us out of our money." And all at once, the laughter seized. Goro grew closer to Hiroshi, close enough for Hiroshi to smell the foul stench of alcohol on his breath. Hiroshi knew Goro was no longer in his right state of mind, and that this encounter could only end in disaster. "And we don't like being swindled...do we boys?" Goro growled in Hiroshi's face. Various "no's" filled the cramped room. "So we'd like to be paid now." Goro demanded.

"But I-", before Hiroshi could get out his last thoughts, Goro knocked the wind out of his lungs, with a punch to the stomach. Hiroshi collapsed to his knees, coughing and gasping for air.

"No money?" Goro taunted. "Fine. We'll just take something else...and where is that darling daughter of yours?"

"No! Please!" Hiroshi begged, "She's innocent! Leave her out of this, take me instead!" he pleaded.

Goro flashed a sinister smile. "As you wish." And with that, one of Goro's men pulled out their dagger, pulled Hiroshi's head back, and slid his dagger effortlessly across his throat. As Hiroshi laid there, bleeding out and gasping for air, the men fled without so much as a blink. Yet, little did they know, they had a little spy peeping from her cracked bedroom door. As soon as she knew it was safe, she ran to her father's side, holding his head in her small, almost eight-year old lap. Her tears slid down her cheeks, onto her father's face. She stayed like this all night, replaying the scenes in her mind over and over again, and with each new replay, she grew angrier and angrier. By morning, she knew what she must do.