can only occur between families of similar tradition, and that’s not the case here. We are hatamoto —hereditary Tokugawa vassals. Lord Niu is an outside daimyo. His clan didn’t swear allegiance to the Tokugawa until after it was defeated at the Battle of Sekigahara.”
“That battle ended almost a hundred years ago,” Hirata said. “Ever since then, the Niu have been loyal subjects of the Tokugawa, just like us. Can’t we forget the past?”
“Tradition is too important to forget.” His father’s voice sharpened with reproach. “It’s the mainstay of our society. And surely the Niu clan desires this alliance no more than I do. If you marry this girl, you’ll never really be accepted by her kin, nor she by ours.”
Hirata glanced backward at his mother. Small though sturdy, dressed modestly in gray, she gave him a smile that said she sympathized with him, but agreed with her husband. Captain Segoshi looked embarrassed to be caught in a family dispute.
“Why can’t you be satisfied to marry into one of the suitable families who’ve offered their daughters to you?” Hirata’s father said.
When Hirata had left his lowly position as a doshin and become chief retainer to the sōsakan-sama , his status in the marriage market had soared. His family began aspiring to a better match for him than they could have expected before his promotion. After Hirata gained a place in the shogun’s inner circle, proposals from high-ranking clans had inundated Hirata and his parents. They’d attended many miai , but Hirata had spurned all the fine young ladies introduced to him.
“Niu Midori is the woman I want to marry,” he said now. “I love her. She loves me.”
His father gave a disgusted snort. “Love is unimportant in choosing a bride. Social position and duty to your family are what really matter. If you marry a woman who’s right for you, then the two of you will learn to love each other after the wedding, as your mother and I did.” He halted in the street. “I can’t approve of this match, even though the sōsakan-sama does. You should marry someone I choose for you, because you’re unable to choose wisely for yourself.”
Hirata’s mother bowed her head, silently seconding her husband’s words. Desperation forced Hirata to employ the one argument that could aid his cause.
“I respect your opinion, Honorable Father,” he said, “but I must remind you that my marriage to Niu Midori would solve a big problem for us.”
That problem was their chronic shortage of money. Hirata had elderly, ailing grandparents, two widowed sisters with small children, and many destitute relatives, as well as longtime retainers and servants to support. Unfortunately, Hirata’s father earned little by teaching martial arts to police officers. Hirata contributed as much to his family as he could, but even his generous stipend didn’t go far enough. He needed to make a financially advantageous marriage, and he’d hoped that this need would convince his parents to allow him to wed Midori.
Although the Niu clan had been subjugated and stripped of its ancestral fief after the Battle of Sekigahara, it remained one of Japan’s most powerful families. The first Tokugawa shogun had realized that unless he pacified his conquered foes, they might later rebel. He’d granted the Niu a fief in Satsuma, and the right to rule that entire province. Lord Niu Masamune, the current daimyo, possessed huge wealth, and whoever married a daughter of his would gain a valuable dowry.
Now Hirata’s father glowered at the knowledge that he needed this match he repudiated. “That’s the only reason I’ll even consider a marriage between you and this girl,” he said, resuming his awkward, limping pace down the street.
“Here we are,” Captain Segoshi said cheerfully, as though determined to get the family through the miai . “The Morita-za Theater.” This was a large building with painted scenes from plays above the entrance.
“That battle ended almost a hundred years ago,” Hirata said. “Ever since then, the Niu have been loyal subjects of the Tokugawa, just like us. Can’t we forget the past?”
“Tradition is too important to forget.” His father’s voice sharpened with reproach. “It’s the mainstay of our society. And surely the Niu clan desires this alliance no more than I do. If you marry this girl, you’ll never really be accepted by her kin, nor she by ours.”
Hirata glanced backward at his mother. Small though sturdy, dressed modestly in gray, she gave him a smile that said she sympathized with him, but agreed with her husband. Captain Segoshi looked embarrassed to be caught in a family dispute.
“Why can’t you be satisfied to marry into one of the suitable families who’ve offered their daughters to you?” Hirata’s father said.
When Hirata had left his lowly position as a doshin and become chief retainer to the sōsakan-sama , his status in the marriage market had soared. His family began aspiring to a better match for him than they could have expected before his promotion. After Hirata gained a place in the shogun’s inner circle, proposals from high-ranking clans had inundated Hirata and his parents. They’d attended many miai , but Hirata had spurned all the fine young ladies introduced to him.
“Niu Midori is the woman I want to marry,” he said now. “I love her. She loves me.”
His father gave a disgusted snort. “Love is unimportant in choosing a bride. Social position and duty to your family are what really matter. If you marry a woman who’s right for you, then the two of you will learn to love each other after the wedding, as your mother and I did.” He halted in the street. “I can’t approve of this match, even though the sōsakan-sama does. You should marry someone I choose for you, because you’re unable to choose wisely for yourself.”
Hirata’s mother bowed her head, silently seconding her husband’s words. Desperation forced Hirata to employ the one argument that could aid his cause.
“I respect your opinion, Honorable Father,” he said, “but I must remind you that my marriage to Niu Midori would solve a big problem for us.”
That problem was their chronic shortage of money. Hirata had elderly, ailing grandparents, two widowed sisters with small children, and many destitute relatives, as well as longtime retainers and servants to support. Unfortunately, Hirata’s father earned little by teaching martial arts to police officers. Hirata contributed as much to his family as he could, but even his generous stipend didn’t go far enough. He needed to make a financially advantageous marriage, and he’d hoped that this need would convince his parents to allow him to wed Midori.
Although the Niu clan had been subjugated and stripped of its ancestral fief after the Battle of Sekigahara, it remained one of Japan’s most powerful families. The first Tokugawa shogun had realized that unless he pacified his conquered foes, they might later rebel. He’d granted the Niu a fief in Satsuma, and the right to rule that entire province. Lord Niu Masamune, the current daimyo, possessed huge wealth, and whoever married a daughter of his would gain a valuable dowry.
Now Hirata’s father glowered at the knowledge that he needed this match he repudiated. “That’s the only reason I’ll even consider a marriage between you and this girl,” he said, resuming his awkward, limping pace down the street.
“Here we are,” Captain Segoshi said cheerfully, as though determined to get the family through the miai . “The Morita-za Theater.” This was a large building with painted scenes from plays above the entrance.
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