The Mirror

                                                                                                    word count 7968

                             

                                                 The Mirror
                                                        by Magicmama

It all started in the most mundane of ways, because no matter how noble the craft, the youngest apprentices are always the ones who fetch and carry and do the most base of work for their seniors.  And when those seniors need water, then it is that youngest apprentice’s job to be off to fetch water.

So it was fate that allowed Kichirou to be there at just the moment when the youngest princess happened to be there.  She wasn’t the most beautiful, or the most graceful as happens in the fairy tales.  She was just the youngest and active.  Her father, the Daimyo, had been a lusty young man and loved his young wife dearly.  She had borne him fifteen children, and while they loved them all, they truly hoped this young princess stayed the youngest.  She was five, and the hardest one to keep up with.  Once again, she had strayed her keepers.  This time she was kneeling on the bridge, watching the fish swim underneath in the brackish river that divided their town from the main part of the island.

He was trudging back carrying the buckets of water over his shoulders, his geta making a subdued clacking on the road. He was nearing the bridge, not thinking of anything in particular when a sudden splash caught his attention.  He hadn’t noticed a little girl sitting there but he realized what must have happened.  Leaving his buckets sprawled in the dust, he dashed to the riverside in time to see her fight her way to the surface, but it wasn’t difficult to see it was a losing battle for her.  Kichirou didn’t even stop to wonder if he was strong enough to save her, being barely seven himself.  He simply jumped in.

Although he hadn’t been swimming since becoming an apprentice, in his months of fetching water, empting waste, cutting and fetching wood had made him stronger, plus, although it was plain stuff, at least as a silver apprentice he was eating regularly.  He got them both back to shore without too much effort.

“Stupid girl!” he said.  “Just what were you doing?  Don’t you have chores at home you should be doing instead of leaning out of bridges?  Now I have to walk all the way back to the well and fetch more water!”

To his dismay, she burst into tears.  “I’m sorry.  I just wanted to see the fish.  They all went under the bridge.”

“Ehh!  Don’t do that!  Look, I tell you what.”  He washed her face from the river.  “If you wait until I get all my chores done, I’ll show you a safe place to watch the fish, o-k?”  He straightened her up the best he could and retied her obi.  “Now go home and come by the silversmith’s after supper.  I have some free time then.”  He helped her up the bank, and collecting his buckets headed back to the well.  After a moment, he heard a soft pitty-pat behind him and he turned about.

“No, don’t follow me!  I don’t want a stupid little girl slowing me down anymore!  I’m already late enough as it is because of you.  You’ll get me in more trouble.”

“Why would you be in trouble?”

“I told you!  I’m late!  Now leave me alone so I can go get water!”  He took off at a pace designed to prevent her shorter legs keeping up with him, his buckets rattling.  Over the crest of the hill, he looked back with a sigh of relief; she was not behind him.  Straining, he once again filled the buckets and headed back.  The distance back seemed twice as long this time as his legs were already tired. 

He set his mind on getting back as efficiently as possible, so much so he nearly dropped his buckets again when a little voice beside him said, “But why would you be in trouble for being late with water?”

She had squatted in the dust right where he had left her. Her thick black hair, divided in half and tied on each side, was coated with the dust and dirt from the road. The bottom of her kimono had made mud where it dripped, and little dribbles of it had splashed up on her little legs.  She had been rocking as she waited, so that the back of her kimono was caked in mud and salt from the brackish water from the river. 

He groaned aloud.  “There are people waiting for this water,” he said.  “But you’re going to be in worse trouble than me.”

She blinked.  “I am?  But why?”

“You really are a stupid girl aren’t you?”  He shook his head.  “Come on.”

She hopped up.  “Why are people waiting for this water?” she asked.  “Why do you keep calling me stupid?  And why am I going to be in trouble?”

“Look at your clothes!”  He was getting exasperated.  “That has to be your best kimono.  Why are you out playing in it?  You’ve got mud caked all over the back of it. I’ll try to get some of it off at the river.”

“Nobody cares what I do.  I can do what I want.”

“That’s why I call you stupid.  Sure they care.  Think your clothes clean themselves?  Somebody has to work hard to clean your clothes.”  Even though he didn’t know who she was, he recognized that her family had more than his ever had; he just didn’t have the knowledge to recognize how much more.  “You should be more careful.” 

He carefully sat down his buckets in a safe spot off the road, and taking her by the hand, led her back down by the river.  He found a nice sheltered little brackish spot and began rinsing the muddy child one more time.

He continued to complain.  “Look how much of my time you’ve taken up.  You’ve delayed me twice in getting the water back.  I’ll probably get beaten for being so late.”  He said it in the same casual tone that someone else might say, “It will probably rain.”

“But why?”

“That’s just the way it is.  One learns discipline.”  Kichirou helped her out of the water.  This time he tried to wring some of the water out of the bottom of her kimono.  “Now, I really have to get back, or I won’t have any free time today.”

“O-K.”  She skipped behind or beside him, chatting nonstop, except when he patiently answered one of her seemingly endless questions.

He delivered his water, was duly beaten, set to more tasks, and the day went on.  He missed the excitement upstairs when the Daimyo came to call.  After that Worthy left, leaving a sizable order behind him, the old master sat thinking for a long time.


Kichirou went down to supper sadly.  His free time had vanished and judging by the way the apprentices above him acted, his dreams of starting to learn soon seemed further and further away.  I’ve listened and learned more than they know, he thought.  I’ll surprise them if they ever give me a chance.  Right now that chance seemed nonexistent.   

He sighed as he ate, not really tasting it.  As it was the usual fare, that part didn’t matter, but the old master noticed he didn’t eat with his normal gusto and smiled to himself.  He stood, suddenly, and all the apprentices fell silent. 

“I have decided it is time for a promotion,” he announced in his quivery old voice, “and in celebration of that all evening work except for supper clean up is canceled.”

That created a bit of a stir.  Kichirou brightened, and began to eat cheerfully. I get to go out after all!  Not that I want to go play with a girl, but I did promise… He actually missed the next part of the announcement, until his neighbor began pounding him on the back.


“Why are you just sitting there? You just got promoted to the next level, idiot!  Tomorrow you will start with us!"

“Promoted?  What do you mean?”

“Idiot!”  His neighbor said cheerfully.  “You’re no longer without rank!  You will start working in the regular training tomorrow!”

Kichirou couldn't believe his luck.  Although his name meant "good luck" he considered that a joke.  The only good thing that had ever happened to him was getting to come to the silver shop, and even that entailed a lot of hard work.  He always thought he never would get to actually learn to be a silver smith.



“I still don’t believe it,” he said later when he had managed to slip out and found the little girl waiting for him.  They had backtracked their steps to the bridge, and he held her hand and they walked down the bank.  The two of them sat in a sheltered place under the bridge where Kichirou fished.  She squatted closer to the edge than he liked so he was within an arm’s reach of her.

He shook his head. "I just can't believe it," he repeated.  He handed her another piece of the origiri he had snuck out from the kitchen.

“What don’t you believe?”  She tossed the rice into the river, watching the fish greedily attack it, and tottered a little.  Kichirou grabbed the back of her kimono.

“How can a stupid little girl like you could change my luck?  In spite of my name, it’s always just been plain bad.  First you cause me to get a beating, then they turn around and promote me.’

“I do have a name,” she announced, looking up at him.  “It’s Kyoko.”

“Mirror, huh.  Maybe you reflected the bad luck away.”  After a moment, he added blushing, “I’m Kichirou.” 

She only grinned and held out her hand.  “More origiri, please.  It’s fun watching them fight over it.”  Kichirou laughed and handed the rice ball to her.



The other apprentices got used to the semi-kept child showing up at the silver workshop and teased Kichirou, who just worked harder and called her a stupid little girl.  The master was the only one who knew who she was. Kichirou’s actual talent began showing through almost as soon as he was allowed to do real work, so to have the eye of the Lord on him and be talented was no small advantage, and the master was not about to waste it for either of them.

Kichirou would never admit it, but he looked forward to her visits.  Her encouragement meant everything to him, and her cheerful nature kept him from getting down when he couldn’t get a piece to come out like he pictured it in his head.  He was already doing work suited to apprentices more than a year ahead of him. 

Years passed.  Kyoko was beginning to mature and grow prettier.  The other apprentices teased him even more, as she blossomed and changed from a brat into more of a little lady as time went on.  Kichirou still only knew her as his friend, never questioned it beyond that.  When she showed up, she showed up.  He was busy learning and pleasing the master far more than he realized.

One day the master called him in.  “Your young friend will be having a birthday soon.  Would you like to make her something?”

“May I?”  Kichirou was startled.  He knew the master was aware of her; he often spoke kindly to the child.

“Make your own design and bring it to me.  Then we shall see.”  With that he dismissed Kichirou.

It was a puzzle as to why the master would be so generous; but Kichirou knew he would be wise to keep it small.  After much thought and careful drawing, he was ready to present his idea.  He wanted to create a silver dragonfly to go in Kyoko’s hair.  She loved them almost as much as she did fish, but somehow Kichirou couldn’t see fish in her hair. 

She was becoming more graceful as she grew, and the delicate lines of a dragon fly would not overpower the subtle beauty she was becoming.  Not that he could put the thought into words; it was more of a sense than a thought.  Shyly he stood in front of the master with his design behind his back.  The master guessed his mission by the way he couldn’t look up at him and quietly led him out of the main workroom.

After looking at the design, the master simply asked, “Are you sure that this is not above your ability to craft?”

Kichirou looked up.  His master was asking seriously.  “I’m fairly sure that I can do it.”  He swallowed. “I’ve tried each step on another piece, although they weren’t combined like this.  Remember when we did the candle stands for the temple?  The design I did around the top?  That is the same as this part here on the wing, you see?”  He became excited as he showed his master each part, telling what piece he had perfected it on.  He stopped suddenly in confusion when he realized that his master was laughing.

“Go, make the piece, and bring it to me when you are done.”  His master continued to laugh and the boy bowed and dashed back to the workroom eagerly.  “Not only will this be our gift to the princess, my boy, but this will be your promotion piece,” he said aloud.  Kichirou himself hadn’t even noticed that the older apprentices had begun to ask him for help, in his own eagerness to learn and practice as much as possible.

Actually making the piece was more of a challenge than Kichirou expected, and it had nothing to do with the crafting.  He had forgotten to figure in how often Kyoko herself showed up—and it seemed to him every time that he got engrossed in his work on the dragonfly, he would hear her cheerful voice coming his way and would have to hide it.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the apprentices to catch on, especially the ones who were jealous of him.  The teasing began, which only made it more difficult.  Some would honestly warn him when she was coming and try to delay her so he could hide it in time, others would falsely warn him, and then fall over laughing once he got it all put away.  He would get so engrossed in the crafting he could never remember who did what.  That went on until the master found out.

He didn’t notice the boys who were limping.  He only realized that suddenly his crafting got suddenly easier.

One morning, he picked it up to check the last coat of lacquer, and realized that it was perfect.  The hairpin caught the morning rays and sparkled like dew.  The crystals he spent so much time polishing were set in perfectly, and the enamels were radiant.  The fine wirework on the wings set the body of the dragonfly off perfectly and it almost looked as though it would take off.  Satisfied, he carried it in to present to the master.

Kichirou remained kneeling with his head to the floor while the old master went to the window carrying the hairpin.  He was conscious of every move; every breath the old man took, while he himself could barely breathe while waiting for the old man’s reaction.  The old man said not a word as he walked back to his desk and sat down.

After a moment, he said softly, “Kichirou.  Please stand up.”

The boy complied, nervously.

The old master looked at him.  “You are getting so tall.  You’ll soon be twelve, I believe.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re a bit young, but this hairpin is absolutely fabulous.  You’ve done a wonderful job.  I’m not even sure I could have done as well.”

Kichirou blushed and dropped his head.  “I tried very hard sir, but I don’t deserve such praise.”

His master smiled.  “You finished it just in time.  The party is tomorrow.  Now, I want you to take the rest of the day off.  Here is some money.  I want you to go to the public bath.  I want you looking your best tomorrow, when you and I present this gift from you and the guild.  Is that all right with you?”

Again, Kichirou was a bit puzzled, but overall he didn’t care.  And a whole day to himself!  After working so hard on the pin he really did feel tired.  Delighted he took the money, and bowed. “Oh, yes!  Thank you so much sir!”

The old man just smiled.  “Just be back for supper!” he said.



Kichirou did look better when he came back.  His bangs were trimmed and out of his eyes.  He looked rested and enamels he accidentally painted on himself were  gone.  Knots he didn’t realize he had were soaked out of his young shoulders so he stood straighter and looked taller. He was as hungry as ever and sat down with the others as usual.  Somehow even the food tasted better, though it seemed to be the same.

Toward the end of the meal, the old master stood up and everyone fell silent.  “It is time to recognize the achievements of one of our own.  I would like Kichirou to come up here.”

Kichirou complied, suddenly terrified and confused.  His face felt hot, and the food he had eaten suddenly felt heavy in his stomach.  What was the old man up to?

The master held up the dragonfly hairpin nestled in crimson cloth in a beautiful teak box, which set it off perfectly.  Kichirou was surprised about the box and it added to his embarrassment and confusion.

The other apprentices clapped.  Most had seen him working on it, so seeing it finished was no surprise.  The old man liked to recognize special jobs well done, although they all knew that this piece was unusual.

Although the master’s voice was quivery, he managed to make himself heard in every corner of the room, and his eyes were piercing.  “Kichirou is rather young, but his skills are far advanced for his age.  This piece will be presented to its new owner tomorrow in front of the Daimyo.”

Kichirou swallowed.  He had known all along that her family was better than his, but to have the Daimyo at a child’s birthday…He felt lightheaded suddenly.  Wait; maybe she’s a samurai’s daughter.  That would make sense, and wouldn’t be too bad.  We could still be friends then.  He broke from his thoughts to realize he had missed something.  The master was standing in front of him and untying his kimono.

“What…what are you doing?” he whispered, mortified.

“You’re getting a new kimono,” came the soft answer.

“Oh.”  That was good.  His old ones were all getting too short.  But why here in public?  He blushed even brighter if possible.  He was conscious of whispers among the other apprentices.  Some of the older ones understood what was happening, and were none too happy.

He quickly shrugged into the new kimono, and looked down, starting to say it was too long, for it was an adult style, although it fit.  He stopped for the colours of it and the badge that his master was even now adjusting on him were that of a journeyman.

The uproar in the room had increased as everyone in the room began to understand what the master was doing.  Kichirou himself could only stutter, “I don’t understand.”

The master turned to the group at large and raised a hand.  The room fell silent.  “Kichirou has mastered all the skills required for an apprentice to be promoted, and has created a piece to show his skills.  This piece is worthy of a master artisan. I realize that he is young, and that there are others who have been here longer.  The day that they do a work showing they have the required skills, they will also be promoted.”  He looked around the room, catching the eye of those he needed to.  Most of them looked down. 

Kichirou barely understand what was being said, his heart was thumping so hard and so fast he thought it would leave his body.  Even his ears felt like they had burst into flames.  He actually began to wonder if he could live through these overwhelming feelings.

The master ruffled his hair and Kichirou looked up at him uncertainly.  In response to the old man’s smile, a shy little grin peeked out for just a moment before the boy ducked his head, and both were comforted.  Then the two other journeymen swept forward, and took him away.

The next morning Kichirou put on his new kimono very carefully; still not believing it was real.  The night before, he moved his few possessions from the apprentice dorm to the Journeyman Hall.  They gave him a small alcove next to one of theirs, for each Journeyman got their own alcove.  It wasn’t large, but private, with a comfortable shikibuton and shelves for belongings.  Kichirou thought he couldn’t sleep a wink for excitement, but he fell asleep as soon as he lay down.

When he was ready, he went down to the master’s office as requested.  When the master was ready, they left the shop together, Kichirou carrying the box.  Neither spoke, but Kichirou was worrying about who his young friend was.  He hoped he could get through this without embarrassing himself or the master.

They drew nearer and nearer to the palace.  Kichirou gulped.  We really are going to the palace.  Oh please be a samurai’s daughter…  The old man beside guessed his thoughts and smiled wryly—over the last five years, he had gotten to know the Daimyo fairly well.  Kichirou would be fine.

At the palace, they were led to the gardens.  At first look, Kichirou didn’t see Kyoko anywhere, but he could see many finely dressed people.  He slid behind his master, staying close to him, and felt almost to shy to look up. He was so intent on staying behind the master and out of sight of the main group in the garden, he didn’t notice  they were in a queue.

When it became apparent to him, he pulled gently on his master’s sleeve.  “Sir, what are we doing?”

The old man looked him up and down until Kichirou twitched.  He reached out one gnarly hand and smoothed back Kichirou’s hair, and rubbed a spot on the boy’s face with his thumb.  “You’ll be fine.  We’ll be before the Daimyo in a moment.

Kichirou heart began thumping.  “I don’t know if I can do this,” he whispered.

“Of course, you can.  Do you have any trouble talking to Kyoko?”

“No…”  Kichirou began drawing circles in the dust with one foot; he seemed to find it fascinating.

The master took hold of the boy’s chin and forced him to look up so their gazes met.  “All you have to do is focus on her.”

It became a mantra in Kichirou’s head.  “Focus on Kyoko…focus on…”  All too soon, they came to the terrace, and were standing in front of the Daimyo.  Beside him was the princess in formal dress, but there was no sign of Kyoko.  He looked around wildly for her.

“Kichirou!” he heard her squeal.  Suddenly to his horror, the princess threw her arms around his neck, and he belatedly realized that she was Kyoko.  He blushed.

“Stop that, you stupid little girl,” he scolded without thinking, pushing her away.  Tardily, he remembered the Daimyo.  He wanted to die on the spot.  However, the Daimyo and his master were both laughing.

Kichirou bowed to the Daimyo.  “I am very sorry, my lord.”  He bowed to Kyoko, thrusting the box at her.

“Ooo,” she said, opening it.  “Oh, Father, look! It’s beautiful! Kichirou, did you do this?”

“Yes, he did,” answered the master, before Kichirou could say anything.  “And because of it, he has been promoted over his peers.”

The Daimyo took the box to see.  “This is quite amazing.  By himself, you say?”

“Is that why you have grownup robes on?” she demanded, her hands on her hips.

“You’re one to talk,” Kichirou retorted, stung, forgetting where he was again.  “Look at you!  I didn’t even recognize you!”

“Well, it’s not like I had a choice in the matter.  Mother made me!”

“Yeah?  And just when were you going to tell me you were the princess?”

The words hung between them.

The Daimyo’s mouth twitched as he regarded the two.  He reached over and touched his daughter’s shoulder.  “Why don’t you and Kichirou go talk in the other garden?  I’ll handle it here.”

“Thank you, Father.”

Kichirou flamed red again, but he bowed to the Daimyo and his master, and then followed the Princess.  Neither said a word at first.  When the reached the other garden, she paused to allow him to come beside her on the path, but he stopped a step or two behind her, refusing to look at her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“You’re the princess,” he said, still finding his toe of great interest.  “And I…just realized…I’ve treated you…”

“The way I wanted to be treated.  At first, I didn’t tell you, because I didn’t know any different.  Actually, before we met, the only other children I knew were my own brothers and sisters.  I guess I thought everyone’s family was like mine.  Later, I was afraid you would treat me differently.”  She ducked her head to look up at him, making him look at her.  “Are you?”

Kichirou looked at her sad eyes.  For the first time in his life,  he knew his own heart.  Whatever happened in the future, he would do what he needed to do to protect this girl.  He dropped to his knees before her and took her hand.  “Kyoko,” he said, and it was enough.



Time went on, and they both grew.  Kyoko continued to become a beauty, and she finally did learn to behave like a lady, even if she still chose not to sometimes.  Kichirou’s talents flourished, and he made beautiful things that the master tended to keep, and the shop went on, but did not flourish.  Other apprentices were promoted, journeymen left, Kichirou was promoted to master level, still very young, and stayed.  The master grew older, then about five years later, the master died.

Kichirou was heartbroken; the old man had become more than a father to him.  However, he never expected what didn’t surprise anyone else; the shop had been left to him.  The Guild Representative came to settle matters.  “I knew him of old,” he said.  “We trained together, and he had no other family.  In the last few years, he had come to think of you very much as his son.  That’s why he would never allow us to move you to another shop.”

At long last everything was done.  The funeral was complete; the party from the guild left.  Kichirou stood, watching them ride over the hill.  They gave him much to think about, for suddenly becoming the Master of the shop when he was not yet twenty, was overwhelming.

He was exhausted; the whole day was still before him.  There was no reason to work today.  The apprentices were all just standing around. Impatiently he sent them off to do as they would for the day, and walked into what was now his office.

Burying his head on the desk the old master had sat at so long, Kichirou finally allowed himself to mourn the man who had been more than a father to him.  After a long time, he began to go through the desk.  Still restless after he had set it as his own, he began cleaning the whole room,  one thing the old man had not been good at.  Near the shelving in the far corner, the flooring was rotted and he pulled it up to have it replaced.  Underneath, was a chest. He heaved it from its hiding place in the floor.  Curious, he opened it, and found an ancient book. 

Blowing the dust from its cover, he carried the massive volume over to see better, and opened the pages.  It took only a few lines to realize what he held and why it had been hidden.  He began to tremble.  It was a grimoire of silver spells.

Panting, he hurriedly put it back in the chest and back in the floor.  After he calmed down, he began to think.  Most likely the master had inherited the book the same way he had, and as a master, it did mean that he might be exposed to knowledge he would and could never use.

Over the next few weeks, he repaired the floor panel himself, so that no one would notice that there was a hiding place underneath.  The shop went back to normal, but under Kichirou things began to improve.  He cleared up accounts, and bills began to get paid.  The quality of the work improved, and the shop became rather prosperous.  Yet he couldn’t forget the book, and he found himself looking at the piece of mat where it was hidden more often than he liked.

When spring came,  rains were sparse.  The local farmers worried, also the Daimyo.  Kyoko confined to him how upset the palace was.  He told her not to worry; something would work out, and sat in his office thinking.  Again his eyes were drawn to the book, but he refused to be tempted.  After several days, he came up with a plan.

Kichirou wrote to the Guild house in Edo, to the Guild Representative that had helped him when the old master died, and sending some of the finest examples of his work, requesting trade due to drought, and to his delight, the Guild house agreed.  He sent them his work and by return, foodstuff and other supplies came into town; they carefully filled the back of the silver shop.

Kichirou took himself to the Daimyo requesting an audience.  When received, he bowed before the older man confessing what he had done.  “We have a store house full, and more coming,” he said.  “It get us all through this winter.  The guild house will consider selling other products from the town, now that we have started a trade route.  Please forgive me for starting this without your approval.  I was afraid that the trip would prove too difficult to work, and did not want to get anyone’s hope’s up.  We have made three trips now, with very little problem.”

He was startled by a hand on his head.  “Stand up, my boy.  I knew weeks ago that you were going to try something.  Did you think our Kyoko wouldn’t come running to me in pure faith the moment you promised her that everything would work out?  You’ve done a wonderful job, and justified her faith, and mine as well.  Come let us walk and talk further.”

Kichirou walked back hours later in daze, after much talk, sake, food, and most precious of all, a promise that he dreamed of and yet never dared to hope for, the promise that he and Kyoko could be wed next spring. 

The word of the promised wedding soon spread around the shop, and around the town, just as quickly as did the word of how the young silver master had arranged to save the town.  He himself did not say a word, but as he sent the wagons of supplies to the palace, the word spread.  The princess herself soon appeared in the shop just as usual.

“Kyoko!  What are you doing here?”  Kichirou asked. 

“Why wouldn’t I come here?  Haven’t I always come here?”

“Yes, but…” he stopped in confusion, blushing.

“Are there not people here?” she demanded.

“Well, yes.”  He glanced around at the apprentices and the journeymen being busy, and pretending not to listen.  He knew quite well that they were.

“Then there is nothing wrong with me being here.”

Kichirou sighed.  “Don’t you ever care what people think?”

Kyoko laughed.  “If I had cared what anyone thought but you, ever, would we be engaged right now?”

Kichirou blushed.  He wasn’t deaf to the muffled twitters in the room.  He did a slow turn.  Suddenly everyone in the room was very busy.  Kyoko continued.  “Besides, Father sent me.  It’s been decided to create a warehouse for the supplies, and he wants to talk to you.”


As the summer went on Kichirou found himself busier and busier.  He was crafting and teaching, supervising the trade with Edo, in charge of the warehouse of supplies, and on top of that, the Daimyo often wanted him to go with him to talk with the farmers.  He began to feel a lack of time for himself.  The betrothal was to be made official in the fall at the harvest festival, with the wedding when the cherry blossoms bloomed.  He wanted to make Kyoko something special as a betrothal gift.

He needed no help in design except from his heart.  He allowed no one to touch it, not even to polish the crystals.  Carefully, he crafted a ring, designed like a lily, with crystals set as sparkling dew and on one petal, a tiny perfect dragonfly glistened.

The day for the festival arrived, and everyone in town and all the farmers were there.  Everyone was happy in spite of the poor harvest, because of Kyoko and Kichirou.  She was wearing her beautiful dragonfly, and everyone was amazed again at its beauty.  Kyoko’s parents watched them tenderly, and held each other discreetly, rejoicing in their love.  Finally the time came, their betrothal was blessed, and Kyoko received the beautiful ring that Kichirou created for her.  She began to cry from the beauty of it, while everyone else came, bowed and praised his work with blessings for their future.


It  was winter when a Samurai and his men rode into town.  Little was known of what actually happened, because Kyoko was with Kichirou, but suddenly the man had taken over the palace, and said that he was the new Daimyo.  Word had barely reached the Silver Shop that something had happened at the palace, when the massive man strode into the shop.

“Where is the master of this place!” he demanded. 

Kichirou walked over from where he had been working.  “I am he.  How may I help you?”

“You?” the man sneered.  “You’re nothing but a child.  Where’s the real master?” 

Kichirou calmly answered.  “I am he.  What service do you wish?”  The man threw a sword at him.  It landed at Kichirou’s feet, but he didn’t move.  “I am not a sword smith.  I work with silver.”

“Huh.”  The Samurai eyed him a moment.  “I want that sword fixed.  I am now the Daimyo.  The old Daimyo refused to pay his taxes.  His life might be spared if the youngest princess gives herself up and agrees to marry me.  The longer she waits, the worst it will be for him.”  He spun on his heel and stalked out.

Kichirou waited till the man was gone, then turned to the shop as a whole, which erupted into panic.  He raised both hands, and they immediately became quiet.  He picked up the sword, and barely managed to stand back up before Kyoto threw herself at him.  He held her a moment.  He tossed the sword to one of the older boys. 

“When night falls, you are to slip out of town and go to the sword master three villages over,” the young silver master said.  “Prepare for the journey, then come to me before you leave and I will give you money.  Everyone else, just stay calm for now.  Come, Kyoko.”  He led her into his office, where she rarely went.  Once there, she went straight into his arms.

“Kichirou, I don’t what to do,” she sobbed.  “You have to know I don’t want to marry him, but my parents!”

Kichirou’s face was grim as he held her close.  “I know, Kyoko.  But, didn’t I promise we’d always be together?”  She nodded into his chest, making his heart tremor.  He felt as though his whole body would shatter like the earth during an earthquake; he was filled with so much rage, pain, love, and yes, even desire for the woman in his arms.  “You stupid little girl, don’t I always come through?” he asked tenderly.

She laughed through her tears, and looked up, and without a care he caught her mouth with his.  After a moment, she broke free.  “Oh!  How is it that your touch is so wonderful, and makes me feel so…”  She turned away.  “I can’t bear the thought of someone else touching me!  It makes me feel queasy inside.”  She hesitated, drooping like a bruised lily.  She turned quickly at a sudden noise behind her.  Kichirou was standing there, facing away from her, his fist against the wall, blood already staining the wood.  “No!” she cried.

His gaze fell upon the floor where the book lay.  Did he really dare to use it?

“Kyoko, I think I know a way for us to be together…but, this way is dangerous.  I…it will be hard, and you must be brave, but it should free your parents as well, but it will mean that you will be separated from them forever.”

“I can bear that if they are safe.”  She leaned against his back.  “What are you planning?”

“To save your parents and destroy him as well. I won’t let him make you marry him. Can you trust me?”

“Since the day you pulled me from the river.”

He turned to her, again kissing her, but this time gently, tenderly as one would a child, and clasped her to his chest.  He swallowed.  “Now listen, because this will be the last time we will meet until the wedding day.”  She shivered.  “Don’t worry, it will be ours,” he promised, and began to explain exactly what he wanted her to do.

Kichirou reread the ancient book one more time.  What he was setting out to do…never mind, it was for Kyoko, and even if they wouldn’t have the future they dreamed, it was still a future, and one together.  Carefully he gathered the supplies he needed and began to craft.  He worked at night when the apprentices were asleep, and began to look haggard and worn.  His project sat in a corner, covered so that none could see, but everyone knew what was going on—knew without asking that he had to be working on something for his beloved Kyoko that was being stolen from him, and the town began to talk of the injustice of it.

They loved their Daimyo, but feared the Samurai, and had done nothing.  After all the Daimyo was to protect them and had since the Ōnin War and if he could do nothing, what could they do?  But now, this was affecting their young silversmith and his bride to be that they had watched grow up and fall in love—and the anger in their hearts was building.

Meantime, Kichirou had sent a letter to Edo, to the guild house there, reporting  that he feared for his life, in spite of stepping back and allowing this man, who was holding the Daimyo and his family captive, to marry his bride to be.  Representatives from Edo were on their way even now to investigate.

The day before the wedding came, and Kichirou finally finished the huge mirror he was crafting.  Nothing like it had ever been seen before.  It was large enough that a woman in full formal dress could see herself fully when she stood before it, and so heavy that it took six apprentices to carry the mirror itself and three more to carry the frame.  Everyone wondered how in the world Kichirou had been able to craft it by himself!

Dragonflies and lilies adorned the frame, each unique and so lifelike, it seemed as if the Dragonflies would simply fly away, or that you could smell the perfume of the lilies.  As they carried it through town, with Kichirou walking before, word passed around town like wildfire, and everyone came to see.  Kichirou patiently allowed everyone a chance to see, which also gave everyone a chance to see for themselves how ragged he looked, in spite of his fine clothes.  They hung on him like sacks, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

Those who knew the story of the dragonfly he had made her for her birthday when she was young told everyone else, and everyone reminded everyone of the lily ring he had made her for their betrothal.  Many had tears in their eyes, even crusty old men, who naturally denied it.

Finally, the procession was allowed to move on, accompanied by everyone in town, and they reached the palace.  The soldiers stopped them, for in truth they had orders not to allow Kichirou to enter.  However, wedding presents were a different matter, and after some discussion, sent word ahead, but let him in anyway.  Many of them were the old Daimyo’s men to begin with and hated serving the usurper.

When Kichirou reached the audience chamber with the mirror, Kyoko was quietly peeking through the curtain.  While their eyes meet for the merest of a brief moment, Kichirou did not betray her presence by even a flicker of an eyelash.  He merely bowed himself before the Samurai without speaking. 

“Why have you polluted my presence!” growled the man arrogantly.

“I am merely delivering a wedding present.”  Kichirou did not even raise his head. 

“Oh?  If it is a present, then it is mine to do with as I chose.  Break it even.”

“If that is your wish.  However, when the Silver gild arrives to congratulate you on your wedding, they may wish to see it, as it is sent in their name.”

That halted the Samurai for a moment.  “Very well.  You've delivered it.”  He spun on his heel to stalk out, only to pause when Kichirou spoke again.

“I have another delivery.”

“Oh?’  The Samurai turned.  Lying before Kichirou on the mat was the Samurai’s sword, fully repaired.  “I thought you weren’t a sword maker,” he mocked.

“I’m not.  This is returned from the finest sword maker in the region.  I had it delivered to him to be repaired.” 

The Samurai snatched it up, and pulled it from the scabbard.  “Perhaps I should test it on you!”

Kichirou didn’t move.  The Samurai merely laughed.  “Peasant!” he said with deride, and stalked from the room.

Kichirou walked out steadily, a grim smile upon his face.  Those who saw him shivered as though as Youkai had walked by.  The story of what happened between him and the Samurai ran through town before nightfall.  Kichirou went straight home and to his room, and no one saw him again that night.

When midnight came, Kichirou again in his finest clothes, read one last time through the ancient book, and carefully re-hid it where he had found it after the old master died.  First he invoked the spell on the mirror.  There, he thought, even if the other one does not work, at least Kyoko will have a place of safety.  As for this one, I may not be a samurai, but I have more honor than that one, and I will do whatever it takes to protect her, or my life means nothing anyway.  Kneeling in the center of the room, he carefully invoked the other spell he had placed on the sword.  Breathing deeply to stay calm, he waited.

In the palace, the sword began to glow, and moments later disappeared from the Samurai’s room.  When it reappeared, through Kichirou’s chest, he fell forward, and breathed no more.

Early the next morning, the representatives of the Guild arrived.  Upon making themselves known at the Silversmith’s, they found that they had arrived into chaos.  Kichirou’s body had been discovered, run through with the sword that everyone recognized as the one Kichirou had publicly delivered back to the Samurai the day before.  Upset apprentices and the journeymen turned to the guildsmen for guidance, and told the whole story, including how Kichirou had been caring for the whole town for the last year, and how the Samurai had treated him.

As the whole town was ready to decry the Samurai, and totally rebel, the Guild Representative decided to take matters into his own hand.  They headed for the palace, which when they got there, was exactly as it had been before.  The old Daimyo clearly had not been holding back on taxes—the palace was still no better than the rest of the town and besides, there had been no mention about taxes from the Emperor.

Earlier that morning, the Ladies all fluttered around Kyoko like so many butterflies.  Her makeup, hair, and kimono were all as perfect as they could make. Her formal kimono had lilies and dragonflies embroidered on it and she worn ten kimonos of the finest silk underneath, the layers making a rainbow of colour underneath her formal kimono.  Her dark hair was like an ebony crown on her head.  Unknown to them, she also had her dragonfly and lily hidden beneath her gown.  At last, they led her to the beautiful mirror so she could see herself.

“Please!” she cried.  “A few moments alone!  I just wish to get my breath.”  Giggling, the women left her in the room.  She hesitantly drew near to the mirror.  ”Kichirou?” she whispered.  “Kichirou!”  After a moment, she bit her lip half terrified, but suddenly he appeared before her.

“Kyoko!  How beautiful you are!”  He held out his hand toward her.  “Come, my darling.”  She took a deep breath, lifting her robes with one hand, and reaching out toward him in the mirror with the other, stepped toward the mirror and vanished.

Moments later, when they went to call her for the wedding, she simply was not there, yet there was no way she could have escaped.  Ladies became hysterical, and wedding guests were disturbed; everyone was afraid to tell the Samurai.  Panic had not quite reached its height when the Guild representatives arrived with their own samurai and demanded to meet with this samurai who called himself the Daimyo.

He let them in, starting to welcome them to the wedding, when the Guild Representative ordered his samurai to arrest him.  “For the murder of Kichirou the Silver Master, and possible other crimes.”  He ordered the old Daimyo released and sent someone to search the Samurai‘s room.  There they found the letter the Daimyo had sent to Edo to the Emperor requesting someone to come to discuss the matter of taxes. Since the harvest had been so poor he wished to work out a trade to cover their taxes for the year.

Upon questioning, the Guild Representative found that the messenger had not made it to Edo.  Instead, the Samurai and his men had killed him and decided to take advantage of the situation.  “All of this evidence will be taken to Edo with this criminal,” he announced.

The old Daimyo and his family cried as they were brought back into the palace and began to understand what had happened.  The Daimyo asked for Kyoko.  “Does she already know about Kichirou?” he asked.

Things stirred afresh as the word came she was missing.  The hunt began again.  Suddenly, a maid screamed.  “I saw her!  She is in the mirror!” and fainted.

A few days later, the Guild Representative, leaving one of his own men in charge of the shop, prepared to go back to Edo.  With his train would be traveling the accused, several witnesses, and enough men to protect them all.  Also, carefully stored, the mirror itself was traveling to Edo. 

The Guild Representative tried to calm the Daimyo and his family, and promised to do what he could to save the young couple in the mirror.  By then, several people had seen them both happily in the garden in the mirror, for now, it reflected nothing but a garden.

Before he left the shop, he went into the office, and went directly to the space where the old trunk was hidden.  He removed the ancient book and looked at it.  “You old fool,” he said.  “I thought you were going to destroy this, and now that rash young man has gotten himself into quite a mess.  I don’t know if I can ever free them from that spell he cast.”  He sighed, putting the book into his own case, and closed up the hidden compartment. 

“At least in my hands, this book can do no more harm while I live.  And if I can’t save Kichirou and Kyoko, I will at least protect that mirror until I die.”  With that he left to travel back to Edo.

glossary

Daimyo-a king or a lord over an area
geta-a kind of sandal with an elevated wooden base
Kichirou-name meaning good luck
Kyoko-name meaning Mirror
Ōnin War-fought in central Japan in 1467–77
origiri-rice ball
shikibuton- mattress that lies on the floor