“Hello, I’m looking for Sugita Kazuhiro,” I ask. I keep getting pointed part of the way there, but not all of the way. I marvel at the size of the great port of Osaka. No wonder Kyoto is being left in the dust… it’s so bustling here.
But my asking and asking finally lead me to a small building by the docks, where you can see the ocean… I find a man, about Gramps age, maybe a little younger, coming out of a small room. “Sugita Kazuhiro?” He nods.
“I’m Makimachi Misao.”
He closes the door of the windowed room, where every inch of his desk is covered in maps and scribbled notes. “So… you’re the new Okashira.” It takes me a minute to understand him – I’m from Kyoto but this man has a -thick- Osaka accent. “I’m still keepin’ up with things. I was one of the orphans, raised up by the group.”
“Thank you for remaining connected, sir,” I say. Our “retiree” network is very efficient. All except one are pretty easy to find, and are agreeable to being helpful.
He sighs. “This port… it’s busier than ever. We’re connected to the whole wide world now.” He grins a little. “I keep track in a little book here, where all these ships come from. Forty six different countries! Can you imagine?” He flips through his book. “And here, I thought my excitin’ days were over when I had to leave the Oniwabanshuu.”
I smile at his sense of wonder. I think that’s a good quality.
But he sighs. “I’m thinkin’, though, when the Oniwabanshuu comes a-callin’, it ain’t to marvel over the ships, right?”
I nod. “I’m tracking a boat that picked up some passengers up at the head of the Yado, where the rivers come together. Sunday night, probably pretty late, and probably was back here sometime Monday.”
He sighs. “Little lady…” I try not to bristle, because I need his information, “do y’know how many boats we’re a-gettin’ here every day? And Osaka is honeycombed with canals…” He looks out at the ocean. “But you ain’t lookin’ for a boat to be lookin’ for a boat just to go boat-lookin’. There’s something a-goin’, right?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out, Sugita-san.”
“Again… lots and lots a’ boats a-comin’ and a’goin’. But just last night, an unregistered ship burnt up over at dock #4. It went up-river Saturday towin’ a little boat behind it. Not uncommon, sometimes those are used on the canals, or for fishin’.”
“Losin’ a ship to fire is common enough. Unregistered ships… fair common as well, usually just between owners. But the combination… now unlike the Western countries, we Japanese don’t have ship insurance – money that pays out should something happen to the ship. So’s we see Western ships suddenly go up, but not Japanese ships – ain’t no good reason, except accident.”
He narrows his eyes. “My port… ain’t like it was. One big guy is squashin’ the others. Lotsa good men, losin’ jobs. Some things are a-goin’ out that are an embarrassment to Japan.” He’s quiet for a long time, before saying. “There was a name stenciled on the little towed boat. Kobashigawa.” He traces out the kanji with his finger in the air.
I look at him. “What does that mean?”
He shrugs. “That means that that’s all I have to tell ya. Two boats go up the river. One doesn’t come back. The other does and burns. Take it what ya will, missy.”
“Thank you, sir.” It’s not much, but whatever we can get… I turn to leave and he stops me.
“Girl… Kobashigawa is the family name of the man who’s takin’ over this port. You ain’t a local so how’s you to know? Well, now ya do, so… use it well, Okashira. But I’m not ready to have my head taken off, so that’s all I’m a-sayin.”
“Thank you again, Sugita-san.”
He turns away, with a bit of a grin. “Anytime, Okashira.”
I head over to the ruins of Osaka Castle. I still don’t have much to report back to Saitou. Hopefully his expedition will result in something more concrete.
(Close)