A Cup of Tea

The Lady of Ōguchi Castle sat on a waiting bench in the garden, breath-taken as she stared at the mountain. Its shape reflected off the surface of Lake Sanjō and the weather was perfect, ruined only by her husband, Lord Masanobu, who sat beside her on the bench, fidgeting and grumbling about someone as important and powerful as him having to wait for tea when he’d rather be drinking sake in the gambling hall back home. Lady Ochako knew what other vices her husband liked to partake in when he thought she was not watching.

“It’s a beautiful view of Mount Hokkyu, don’t you think, dear?” She smiled. As always, she tried to make it seem like the smile was not only out of duty. She had not chosen her fate, but she would do her best with the fate she was dealt.

“Enough of mountains...our castle is built on one! If I wanted to see mountains, I’d never leave home.” Her husband – nicknamed the Hairy Demon of Un by anonymous whisperers – sat with his leg bouncing, a habit Ochako was amazed he had never grown out of. He was clearly concerned about the lack of his weapons and bodyguards, all of which they had left back in the greeting hall of Lord Norifumi’s estate. “Lord Norifumi should have just sent his decision by letter.” She was about to gently remind him that other feudal lords took time to make important decisions, but she was cut short by the arrival of one of their hosts.

Lady Oyasu wore plain, yet fine, robes of pale green and blue, the colors reserved and hinting at the coming of spring, all suitable for the season and today’s tea event. She was about twenty years Ochako’s junior, but the woman’s warm, inviting smile and keen eyes seemed to close the divide. They had met half an hour earlier in the greeting hall, and Ochako could already tell that Lord Norifumi had in his wife a capable partner.

“My apologies for keeping you waiting, my Lord and Lady,” she spoke, folding her hands just below her obi and bowing. “Our garden is simple and a bit rustic, but I hope it provided a brief rest after your journey.”

Not wanting her husband to ruin the interaction, Ochako responded quickly. “You are too humble, Lady Oyasu. The attention and care put into your garden are evident. Simply sitting here feels as though it cleanses oneself. It is a treat for me to see this side of Mount Hokkyu for once. The snow appears to thaw more quickly from the south, does it not, my dear?“ From the side, she saw her husband close his mouth and mumble something in the affirmative.

“You’re too kind, my Lady,” the woman bowed again. “The spirit of Mount Hokkyu has protected this land for many years, and I pray that it may continue to do so in the future.” She glanced thoughtfully toward the mountain, letting the words hang in the air, before looking back at her two guests. “If you are ready, my husband awaits you in the tea house. Please follow me this way.”

Masanobu stood, his hand when instinctively seeking the hilt of his katana only to find empty air. Scowling, he wiped his hands on his sides as Lady Ochako stood and the two followed their host.

“Spring has come early this year,” Ochako offered, stepping carefully on the stone pathway through the garden after the other woman. “The cherry blossoms are already blooming. The harvests should be plentiful this fall.”

Lady Oyasu turned her head and nodded to Ochako. “Indeed we do hope so. Peace makes for the best harvest seasons,” she said.

In front of her, Masanobu grunted his disapproval. “Too much idle time makes peasants soft. Nothing like a war to cut away the chaff,” he laughed, more of a gruff cough than a laugh. Ochako thought to chide her husband but watched Lady Oyasu’s reaction instead. The woman simply smiled to Lord Masanobu, “My Lord’s peasants must be very dependable!” She laughed with him. “Perhaps you can teach my husband how to keep his people occupied.“ A toothy smile spread on Masanobu’s face. Ochako has said the woman was capable; that may have been an understatement. Anyone who could elicit a smile from Masanobu had a special skill.

Lady Oyasu reached a squarish, wooden door, the guest entrance to the tea house. As with all tea houses of the latest fashion, one would need to crouch to enter, serving as a reminder of the difference between the outside world and the tea house’s interior. She slid the door open and gestured to her guests.

“Please enter. My husband will meet you inside.” With that, Oyasu bowed again and hurried off around the teahouse and toward the rear. She would enter near the mizuya and assist her husband in serving the tea.

Still grumbling that he had no weapon to defend himself, Masanobu peeked into the tea house warily. Lady Ochako understood his wariness – daimyo had fallen to assassinations when relaxing in seemingly innocuous places before. Yet Lord Norifumi had a sterling reputation, and she doubted it would gain him any favor among the other daimyō in the region to murder them now.

Masanobu poked his balding head into the square-shaped portal and, evidently deciding that the tea room was safe enough, proceeded to crouch down and enter. Ochako followed him in.

The interior of the tearoom was quiet and peaceful. Along the left wall was a pair of closed sliding doors. On the right side, a dim light shone through a small window to the left of the tokonoma, a recessed portion of the tea room containing items meaningful for the day’s theme. The tea house itself was of average size, perhaps three or four large paces across, the floor covered with six tatami mats. In the middle of the room, an iron kettle sat on a raised fire, flames gently licking its dark, ribbed surface. As expected, the tearoom was empty.

Ochako had advised her husband on the procedures involved in tea events, but he clearly had not been listening. He sat down in the main guest’s spot without bothering to view the tokonoma. Ochako kneeled in front of it, motioned to her husband to join her there, but he didn’t appear to notice.

Within the tokonoma, several objects of note were displayed. A calligraphy scroll hung on the recessed wall with a poem written in a flowing script. On the center of the tokonoma’s wooden base sat an earthen jar with an elegant flower arrangement. Placing both hands on the mat in front of her, Ochako bowed, then turned her attention to the poem on the scroll:

A silent warbler

hidden among swaying reeds

how long will I wait?

Ochako considered the poem for a moment, searching for any indication of Lord Norifumi’s intent. The poem was a haiku from a collection of poems written more than eighty years ago by Nichijūin Ranzen, a mysterious hermit who traveled throughout the country. Selecting a haiku instead of something more classical was an avant-garde choice, but Ochako appreciated it. Tea was evolving, and it was people such as Lord Norifumi who would move it forward. The poem, however, made her wonder about the Lord’s intent. Could it be that the Lord Norifumi was still undecided? In all honesty, her husband and Lord Norifumi did seem an unlikely pair, but these were unusual times.

Moving on to the flower arrangement, Ochako noted it contained flowers symbolic of fragility and peace, further affirming Ochako’s suspicion that Lord Norifumi might be hesitant. Masanobu had waited so long for an answer that, if it was not to his liking, Ochako might not be able to contain his rage. Ochako moved to the spot on her husband’s left and folded her hands on her lap. She dispelled worldly concerns, not wanting them to rob her of the chance to enjoy the event, and waited for their host.

Almost as soon as she settled into her spot, the door on the opposite wall of the tea room slid open, revealing Lord Norifumi. He wore a dark blue kimono and light brown hakama, both simple in design and make. In front of him on a tray were light snacks to be enjoyed before the tea. They appeared to be some kind of mizu manjūu, a treat made from ground arrowroot and water, usually filled with some kind of paste. Lord Norifumi rose quietly and crossed the tearoom, tray in hand, setting it down in front of Lord Masanobu and bowing.

“I hope you enjoy these treats,” he spoke formally, bowing to Masanobu. Ochako was relieved to see her husband return the bow, even if only slightly. Lord Norifumi rose and turned, his white split-toe socks making soft, rustling sounds as he exited the room.

Turning back to Masanobu, Ochako almost gasped in horror as her husband was already preparing to eat the snacks. “Not yet, dear,” she whispered gently. “Lord Norifumi will let us know when to eat,” Masanobu grumbled under his breath about having to wait for everything.

A moment later, Lord Norifumi slid open the door again, bowing. 

“I will offer you a cup of tea,” he said, bowing before picking up his utensils and moving to the predetermined spot beside the iron kettle where he would make the tea for them. In his left hand, the Lord carried an empty tea bowl, bamboo whisk, and tea scoop, and in his right hand, he carried a dark, lacquered tea caddy.

Lord Norifumi knelt on the floor with his legs folded beneath him, setting down his utensils in their proper places before rising again, exiting the room, and returning with a bamboo ladle and metal pot for wastewater. He nestled himself once again into his spot facing a blue-glazed clay jar containing fresh water and the iron kettle with hot water to his right.

Pausing for a moment, he set about cleaning the tea whisk first, then the bowl itself with hot water, wiping the bowl clean with a white cloth. Next, he produced a red, silk cloth from his robes, folding it and using it to wipe the tea caddy and tea scoop. The action was meant to purify the tea and scoop. As a fan of tea, Ochako watched his smooth, orchestrated movements intently as he proceeded with preparing the tea. Tea was a lesson in patience and refinement her husband would never understand.

Pausing as he picked up the tea scoop and caddy to begin preparing the tea, Lord Norifumi spoke to Masanobu. “Please go ahead and eat.”

Masanobu removed a bundle of folded paper from his robes and took one of the manju snacks, placing it on the paper before passing the other treat on to his wife. Ochako repeated the motions of her husband and placed the other manju onto her napkin. As she proceeded to eat it, she realized the snack contained salted chestnut. The natural sweetness of the chestnuts used and the added saltiness blended well. After a few bites, she found herself contemplating the choice of chestnut. Nothing in tea was ever accidental. She wondered at the significance of offering them chestnut. Three chestnuts were part of the heraldic symbol of their enemy, the Azano clan.

The sound of Lord Norifumi whisking powdered tea in the bowl roused her from her thoughts, and Ochako looked up in time to see him remove the whisk, place it gently on the tatami, and turn toward them. He rotated the tea bowl so its front would face them and placed it on the tatami for Masanobu to take.

Ochako could see the tea bowl was rustic, moderate in shape for the season, yet with a slightly imperfect circular form. She looked at her husband, who seemed to remember he was supposed to retrieve the tea bowl. Sliding forward on his legs, Masanobu brought the tea bowl back to his original position. He lifted it up and proceeded to drink from it without a word. After a few drinks, he set it down to his left and Ochako took it.

The bowl felt rough in her hands, yet it had a firmness to it. Rotating it twice so the front would face Lord Norifumi for his viewing pleasure, Ochako raised it to her lips and drank. The tea had a sweetness that only the highest quality tea could have. The powder must have been ground recently. After drinking, Ochako set the bowl down on the tatami.

“What delicious tea!” she exclaimed. Masanobu merely grunted in what might have been agreement. Ochako picked up the tea bowl and set it down in front of Lord Norifumi, positioning it carefully so he could easily clean it.

The rest of the ceremony seemed to pass quickly as Lord Norifumi cleaned the tea bowl and utensils, presented them with the tea caddy and bamboo tea scoop for their viewing, and refilled the blue-glazed clay jar with fresh water. 

Once Norifumi had settled back into his spot, he rested his hands on his lap and smiled. Lady Ochako waited a moment for her husband, but he seemed uninterested in fulfilling his responsibilities as the head guest, so she asked the customary questions on his behalf.

“Today’s tea utensils are splendid. Could you tell me about the tea caddy?”

“It is a pure-black lacquered tea caddy with golden maki-e design of springtime reeds, the work of a humble artisan here in Isumi.”

Ochako nodded, familiar with the lacquer skill of Obayashi Tahei. Her husband shifted impatiently, but she continued on. “And the tea scoop?”

“Crafted by an artisan in Utchū from aged bamboo. Its name is Waiting for Clear Skies.” The significance of the tea caddy being from Isumi, Lord Norifumi’s province, and the tea scoop being from Utchū, Lord Masanobu’s province, was not lost on Ochako. The two tools were central to tea. Her husband, however, did not seem to notice or care, having reached his limit. 

"Enough tea talk! What is your answer, Lord Norifumi?" The man's fierce expression carried with it the threat of grave consequences should he not like the answer. Lady Masanobu could no longer keep silent.

"Dear...," she interjected, smiling apologetically to Lord Norifumi. She knew her attempts to smooth things were futile. She had cautioned Masanobu that talk of affairs outside the tea room was taboo, yet he never listened.

Before her husband could protest further, Lord Norifumi spoke, a warm, inviting smile on his face. "Lord Masanobu, let us forget the turbulence of the outside world and enjoy tea together for a few precious moments." The Lord had a way of smiling that made Ochako feel as if he had all the time in the world. Lady Ochako placed her hand on Masanobu’s arm and thankfully he sat back again in his seat, scowling.

“I will not wait forever,” Masanobu said. “If a bird refuses to sing, it is made to sing.” Ochako wondered if her husband had read the scroll.

Lord Norifumi nodded thoughtfully. “Some birds are shy, my Lord. If one waits, though, all birds eventually sing.” Lord Masanobu simply scowled and remained silent.

With that, Norifumi took the tea caddy and scoop and departed from the tea room. As he reached the sliding door, he turned and bowed.

“I hope you enjoyed the tea. My wife will arrive soon to show you to the feast hall for dinner. Please have a rest until then.” With that, he slid the door closed, leaving Ochako and Masanobu in the silence of the tea room.

* * * *

Peace in this land was like the roots of a tree clinging to a mountain; strong, yet unaware of the burden growth places on it. A conflict between the Horita and Azano clans would weaken the region's ability to stand against domination by the southern islands. Lord Masanobu had waited months, only promised an answer on the condition that they meet in person. Norifumi had wanted to know what kind of man Masanobu was and whether an alliance was truly wise. Through tea, it was possible to understand a warrior as well as one could on the battlefield.

He now had his answer. Lord Masanobu was little more than a brute in fine clothing, who took what he wanted and had no respect for others. The man could not be bargained with and peace with him would only be a fleeting dream. 

Norifumi reviewed the past hour in his mind, frowning as he remembered Lady Ochako. She was all that a samurai lord could ask for in a wife – elegant, well-educated, and possessing a sharp intellect. It was unfortunate her fate was tied to one such as Lord Masanobu. Once things were settled, perhaps he could arrange a place for her at a nunnery, allowing her the freedom to practice tea. She need not face the same end as her husband.

Norifumi set his utensils down for an attendant to clean. Normally he would have enjoyed cleaning them himself, but too much work lay ahead. It was not a simple thing to plan for war.

As he left the tea house, Norifumi's mind was on how best to ally with the Azano clan. Despite the future conflict, Norifumi would ensure Lord Masanobu and Lady Ochako were properly entertained and returned safely to their castle. The Mitsuki clan’s name was one of the most trustworthy in the region, and he would not sully it with assassination to save a few battles. His clan’s reputation was the reason he had been able to convince Lord Masanobu to leave the security of his own province. Unfortunately, a good name had not been enough to prevent this war.

Forbearance, not patience, would guide Norifumi's hand now.