Year of the Boar, Eleventh Month, Day 13.

I decided that I would have the musicians play for me privately; I had no appetite and no desire to sit in the Hall while the House glared and gossiped. The enthusiasm I had felt about eating some octopus had waned and I wished only to listen to some music and sleep. 

Atsuko told me in no uncertain terms that I was being selfish. Everyone had been excited about the musicians' arrival and depriving the House of their music because I did not feel like leaving my rooms was unacceptable, she said.... She forced me into a set of silks and then all but dragged me into the Hall. I felt the silks weighing me down and each step towards the Hall took more effort than I felt I could make. Anxiety welled in my stomach and rose into my chest; the loud hum of chatter was audible long before I reached the Hall and the noise swelled until it became unbearable to me. 

I turned, about to tell Atsuko that I would  not... could not.... go into the Hall but her fingers tightened around my upper arm; her silent refusal to give me my way. Before I could protest, she told me firmly that my presence in the Hall was important... that I must be seen to have control over the House... she lowered her voice and added that Izumi was less likely to succeed in whatever she was up to if the House remembered what I actually looked like. 

The anxiety I felt became a twisting, sickening knot; it was the first time Atsuko had openly acknowledged any kind of plot and I still wondered if she were playing a part in it, lulling me into the false sense that I could trust her when all the while, she facilitated Izumi's subterfuge... I could not move. My knees felt weak and I wanted to be sick; despite my discomfort, Atsuko pulled me towards the Hall and slid the doors open so that I could take my place. As I knelt at my table, the noise of the Hall subsided slightly but mostly, my presence went unnoticed as the House set about the evening meal. I felt exhausted and had half a mind to return to my chamber anyway. What did I care if the House had to make do with our own musicians instead of our visitors ...? 

I looked around for Atsuko to tell her that I would not stay but I noticed Izumi in my periphery... Nausea threatened to overwhelm me when I saw that she wore a set of silks identical to one I own ... the pattern of cranes is not unusual but the dusky pink colour has not been in fashion for a long while; the only woman who wears it... is me... Did she have it made or did she steal it somehow...?  As I sat there watching her; I realised that she has even begun imitating my mannerisms. It would be difficult to tell us apart unless one knew us very well indeed. Although my stomach still churned, I reached for a cup and forced myself to drink down some tea, willing its warmth to comfort me and settle the nausea... 

I realised that I did not want Izumi to know how her behaviour was affecting me and I had no idea how to make her stop... In my mind, I could see her... dressed in my Silks, swanning around my House, issuing edicts to the Diplomats, slowly taking over until everyone believed her to be the Ruling Lady of Dying Crane... perhaps... I should let her do it... 

She would probably make a better Ruler than I do... she may even care about the House... but if I am no longer the Ruling Lady, then who am I...? I am sure that Izumi would make sure I had no access to my own coin and I have no idea how one gets work... even if I did, who would hire a disgraced Ruling Lady with no skills except poetry...? I would have to beg Izumi to let me stay in the House... become her supplicant, reliant on her mercy for every thread of silk on my back... and that... I will not do... 

I sipped some more tea, closing my eyes briefly to shut out Izumi's smug face, I resolved that she would not be my downfall.. no... I would find a way to deal with her... somehow... before I could give that much thought, the clamour of the Hall was silenced by the entrance of the minstrels.  Two servants carried in a koto; they were followed by its player and two more carrying shamisens, singers trailed after them all dressed in pristine grey silk. They took their places on the small platform at the back of the Hall and one of the shamisen players began a light hearted shanty. 

I was disappointed to see that the biwa player had not joined them but I recognised the skill of the shamisen player and the singer he accompanied. Her voice had an earthy, gravelly quality one does not hear often; I felt myself quite transported. The air was heavy with the vibrating bass notes and the generous, sultry tones of the alto singer; it was almost intoxicating.. I forgot, for a few fractions of a stick, about Izumi, about the House... even about wanting a pipe... and I just enjoyed some exceptional music... 

After a while, the troupe broke for some refreshment and as I was about to take some more tea, the doors nearest the back of the Hall opened and in walked the biwa player. She knelt in the middle of the platform and began playing without a word; immediately commanding the attention of the Hall with a single note. I could not hear a sound around the Hall other than the soft, sensual tones of those strings. The years of practice since I heard her last, have served only to enhance a talent which was already exceptional and when she began to sing a ballad of lost love, I felt my heart in my throat. It was breathtaking. 

It was late into the night before the troupe finally refused the Hall's calls for more. Candles guttered in their lanterns and the servants stumbled and dropped crockery, yawning as they cleared the tables; my eyes burned with the ache of having been awake for too long but I could not drag myself away from the Hall, fearing that if I did, I would forget how wonderful it had felt to float away from my troubles without the aid of a pipe. 

Before I finally retired, just before dawn, I asked Atsuko to have the troupe stay. I would hear their music again and I did not care how much coin it took...