Feature Writer: Snekguy /
Feature Title: DEMON GATE 2 /
Copyright: © 2018 by Snekguy
Story Codes: MF, FemaleDom /
Synopsis: Satou is arranged to be married to the daughter of a neighboring landowner, but when he stumbles across a mysterious woman in the forest, he must find a way to balance the expectations of his family with his burgeoning desires /

Demon Gate 2

Chapter 2: Painted Doll

Satou tossed and turned on his sleeping mat, images of the beautiful red woman flashing through his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about her, about the way that her red skin shone in the sunlight, about how her hair looked as fluffy as a cloud. Those golden eyes, her alluring body…

He didn’t care what Nagao said, he had to see her again, he would go crazy if he didn’t. He felt like there was a hot coal burning in his belly, as if the only way to quench the fire was to gaze upon her one more time. He didn’t know what he was feeling, it was strange and unfamiliar, a kind of compulsion. He lay on his back and stared at the ceiling, mulling over the day’s events, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart.

Tomorrow he would meet his bride to be for the first time. Would she be pretty? Kind? Would she like him? He couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life with someone that he had never met before, with someone whose full name he didn’t yet know. But that was the way of things, it was his culture, his family’s tradition. Like an ox plowing a paddy, Satou had to drag around so much responsibility, and now the promise of marriage had added another crushing weight to that burden. He had to do it, for his family and for his shoen, so why did he feel so apprehensive? Was he a bad person for desiring only to shirk these duties, to avoid his responsibilities?

“Ancestors … give me strength,” he groaned, turning over to stare at the wall. Again his mind turned to images of bulging muscles beneath wet, red skin, of womanly beauty the likes of which he had never beheld before that day. The Oni had seemed so wild and free, she was everything that Satou desired, everything that he wanted to be…

---

The kimono was hot and stifling in the May heat, weighing him down, Satou adjusting it uncomfortably as he watched the Matsuyo procession emerge from the trees. They had followed the footpath up from the West, their shoen was situation further down the valley, it must have been a long and arduous climb.

His father and brother were clad in similar kimonos, formal clothing in a shade of black with white undergarments, while his mother’s was made from fine blue silk and decorated with floral patterns. Many of the laborers were standing nearby too, clad in what formal clothing was available to them as they waited to greet the visitors. Everyone was standing to attention like soldiers, unmoving, adhering rigidly to ritual and tradition. Every step of this meeting had been planned out, everyone knew what was required of them far in advance, having learned these customs by rote. It was liberating in a way, to know exactly what to say and do, and to know precisely what the response would be. Yet at the same time it seemed almost insane.

For example, the visitors would be offered a beverage once they were inside the family home, and they must decline three times before finally accepting the fourth offer. That was considered polite and proper, and although both parties knew what the eventual outcome would be, they still had to go through the motions. That was just one of many such rituals that Satou would be required to participate in, it was going to be a long day…

As the party came into view, Satou saw that the members of the Matsuyo family were traveling by kago, a kind of seat suspended beneath two bamboo poles and carried on the shoulders of servants. They would allow the rider to travel in relative comfort, with coverings protecting them from the elements.

The bearers were clad only in their loincloths, Satou didn’t want to imagine what carrying such a load in this heat and through such rough terrain would be like. If they were to be offered cool beverages, he doubted that they would refuse three times before accepting.

The servants set the three kago down on the grass, and from within emerged their guests. There was an older man who was sporting a similar black kimono to the one that Satou was wearing, a woman who was wearing orange silk that was embroidered with birds and flowers, and finally…

Satou looked upon his future wife as she stepped out of her kago. She wore a flowing kimono that was not too different from those of the other women, the silk a shade of red with a black collar and floral patterns sewn into the fabric. Around her waist was a large sash that was pink in color, tied in a bow. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, adorned with a kanzashi in the shape of a blooming rose, a traditional hair ornament that was said to bring good fortune to the wearer.

Her face was painted a shade of snow white, her lips dyed blood red and her eyebrows shaved, replaced with small dots. She looked like a ghost to Satou, somehow unnatural, and she was wearing so many layers of heavy clothing that she could barely walk.

The two families went through the motions of greeting one another, there was plenty of bowing and nodding, Satou smiling until his cheeks began to ache. He noted that the girl’s teeth had been dyed black, as was currently in fashion, making her smile dark and strange. When the formalities had concluded, they led the Matsuyos back to their house. His mother had fretted over the place all morning, making sure that everything was perfect, as if the visitors would notice and be offended if a single mote of dust was to be found.

They sat around the table in the center of the main room and more formalities followed, the two families eventually progressing to a point where they could begin eating and chatting more readily. Satou’s mother had broken out the good stuff for this visit, what few luxuries the Hisamotos could afford. Although they were a wealthy family by farming standards, the luxuries enjoyed by the higher echelons of Japanese society were mostly out of reach to them.

Today they were going to dine on boiled rice and salted fish, with tea for the women and sake for the men. Satou had never liked the taste of the alcoholic beverage, but he was expected to drink it and so he did. Even the act of raising a cup to one’s mouth was a ritual in itself, every action precise and measured, almost like they were performing a kabuki theater show.

During the meal, the two patriarchs discussed the expected yield of the rice paddies this year, and Satou shared a few tentative glances with the girl. He still didn’t know her name, and it would not be proper to ask her at the table. She didn’t seem to want to meet his gaze, she was so shy, meek. It was the way that women were expected to be, delicate and fragile, like a lily floating on the surface a pond. It held no allure for Satou, and not for the first time he wondered if there was something wrong with him. Why was it that the other men all seemed to desire such traits in their partners? Why did they want them to be submissive and deferential, small and soft?

As his father had warned him, ‘those who come together in passion stay together in tears’. Marriage was not an affair of love, it wasn’t about passion or attraction. It was at best a kind of alliance for social or political purposes, with the ultimate goal of producing heirs and joining families. Perhaps a kind of friendship could develop between man and his wife over time, a certain tolerance, and it was always possible that having children might bring them closer together. His mother and father got on well after all, but what choice did they have? Their marriage had been arranged just as his had, they could either live in misery, or accept their situation and make the best of it.

Satou looked across the table at the porcelain doll, her face white and expressionless, her eyes fixed on the table in front of her. Could he ever grow to love this person? Perhaps she was kind and loving and wonderful, and he just didn’t know it yet? Images of the beautiful red woman flashed in his mind, so strong, so wild. This girl was the polar opposite, and he didn’t really know any more about her than he did the Oni.

The meal took a long time, and when it had concluded, the sun was just beginning to dip behind the mountains. It was suggested that Satou should take the girl for a walk amongst the rice paddies, so that they might chat a while and get to know each other a little better. It was not Satou’s place to refuse, and so the two prospective spouses left the house and walked up the pathway that led to the farms. They passed many of the shacks and huts that the laborers lived in along the way, and there was more than one face peeking out of a doorway and whispering behind a hand as they walked by.

The village was abuzz with the news, and everyone was excited over the prospect of Satou marrying. The shoen was more than just a farming community, it was an extended family, like a tree with the Hisatomos serving as the trunk and each peasant family making up one of the branches. The joining of the Hisatomos and the Matsuyos would benefit everyone, and he felt the weight of their expectations on his back along with their stares.

When they were clear of the prying eyes of the villagers, Satou spoke up, his curiosity overriding his strict adherence to protocol.

“What’s your name? Mine is Satou.”

“Sasaki,” she replied. Her voice was quiet and soft, she sounded like a mouse. Even as she spoke to him, she kept her eyes on the footpath, her long kimono dragging behind her.

“I hope that … your journey was not too arduous,” he continued, struggling to find subjects of conversation. “These mountain paths can be rough and difficult to traverse.”

“The journey was pleasant, thank you,” she replied.

“Of course, you rode in a kago, so you might not have noticed. I can’t imagine you scaling the mountain in that kimono,” he joked in an attempt to break the ice.

“Does it please you?” she asked.

“The kimono? I … yes, it’s beautiful.”

They stopped at the bank of the highest paddy, looking out over the terraces, the valley visible far below in the fading light. The rice seedlings had been planted in orderly rows, and the dragonflies were swarming, the males locked to the females as they danced through the air in tandem. Spring, reproduction, new life. It was all so poetic, so fitting, and yet Satou felt nothing but apprehension.

“It’s a nice night,” he said, making more idle conversation. “When the sun sets, it will cool down a little, and you’ll be able to see the fireflies.”

“I look forward to becoming a productive member of your family,” she said, seeming to ignore his comment. “I hope that I will be able to serve you well and bear you healthy children. My father says that we are to unite our two shoens and that it will be of great benefit to both families.”

She didn’t seem much more excited than he was, staring down into the valley as she spoke.

“My parents say the same thing,” he replied, and an awkward silence followed that was punctuated only by the chirping of the cicadas. After a minute it became unbearable, and Satou felt that he had to do something to break it. “Shall we walk some more?” he asked, “let me show you the stream.”

He led her further up the slope, showing her where the flowing stream that came down from the mountain drained into the topmost paddy. He explained to her that the water traveled all the way down from the mountain’s snow-capped peak, and how the sluice gate worked. She must have a similar system in her own shoen, and yet she seemed disinterested. Was she not the heir to her own family’s farming operation? Was she not also instructed in its varied functions?

She seemed to sense that he was confused by her lack of enthusiasm.

“Women of our class are not expected to tend the farms,” she explained, “I have been instructed in other skills that might be of use to your family. I can read and I have been trained in calligraphy, so that I might one day handle administrative and financial matters. I can play the shamisen, if music pleases you. I can also sew and weave.”

“Yeah, everyone likes music,” he mumbled. “Did you sew your kimono then? It’s very fine work.”

“No, it was a gift from my aunt.”

The lack of chemistry was palpable, as was the awkwardness. Would this really get better as his father has suggested? It certainly didn’t feel like it…

“So, you like reading? Do you read any poetry? Are you familiar with the works of Matsuo Basho perhaps? His book ‘The Narrow Road to the Deep North’ is especially good I think, his travel sketches too. He once famously wrote ‘do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the wise, seek what they sought’. It’s very inspirational, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I am afraid that my reading has mostly been confined to study,” she replied.

He led her down the hill, weaving between the rice paddies, the sky bleached in wonderful shades of pink and orange by the setting sun. There was a pleasant wind that cooled him, blowing his hair and making the tree tops sway gently in the distance. Sasaki never seemed to look up at it, her head was perpetually bowed, he couldn’t understand how someone could help themselves from marveling at the sight. He stopped suddenly beside one of the paddies, crouching down to reach into the water.

“Look Lady Sasaki,” he whispered, plucking something from the pool and extending his cupped hands towards her. “It’s the first of the May tree frogs. They will be spawning in the paddies soon, the water will be full of tiny tadpoles.” The little green creature blinked its dark eyes idly, inflating its throat and loosing a ‘ribbit’ sound. The girl recoiled, a look of disgust etched into her painted face. “H-He won’t hurt you,” Satou insisted, confused by her reaction. “See? Isn’t he cute? Would you like to hold him?”

She shook her head, and he released the little frog back into the paddy, where it slowly swam away. Sasaki wasn’t a fan of nature apparently. How could a girl who had been raised surrounded by such a wealth of natural beauty be so averse to it, so disinterested? Worried that he might have offended her, he decided that it was probably time to return her to her parents.

“Why don’t I walk you back to the village?” Satou suggested.

xxxxx

The Matsuyo family stayed the night, and then at first light they returned home. There was a lengthy farewell ritual that concluded as the trio mounted their kago and made their way back down the mountain, Satou and his family standing rigidly to attention until they lost sight of the procession in the trees.

Once they had vanished, Satou let out a long sigh, immediately loosening his kimono. His parents seemed pleased, his brother disinterested. It would be many years yet before a bride would be chosen for his sibling.

“Well, what did you think of her?” his mother asked as they made their way back up to the house. “Was she to your liking? Did you think that she was pretty?”

“The Lady Sasaki?” Satou replied. “She was … about what I expected. Refined, proper, she will make a fine wife I’m sure.” But not a fine companion, and probably not a good friend either, he neglected to add.

His mother knew him well enough to see that he was trying to conceal his disappointment, and she tried to reassure him.

“I’m sure that after you two have been living together under one roof for a while, you will come to appreciate her more. She will care for you and your home, mother your children, support you in all things. It is not something to be taken lightly, it is a lifelong commitment. Tell me Satou, when you first took up reading, did you succeed right away?”

“No,” he replied. “It took me some years to learn.”

“Marriage is like reading,” his mother explained. “You might not take to it immediately, you might not even like it at first. But over time you will learn and grow, you will adapt to your new situation, and just like reading it will open up a new perspective for you. You have to work at marriage, and on some days it can make you feel like an ox pulling a plow in the hot sun, but your efforts will be rewarded with the laughter of your children and the respect of your community.”

“I understand, mother.” He hesitated for a moment, then mustered the courage to ask about what had been bothering him. “I noticed that Lady Sasaki seems … out of her element when she’s outside the house. She wasn’t interested in the dragonflies or the sluice gate, and she recoiled when I showed her a tree frog. Why is that?”

“Oh, Satou,” his mother groaned in exasperation. “You are too old now to be catching frogs and playing in the dirt! The Lady Sasaki has not been laboring under the sun or exploring the woods, she has spent her time studying the arts and refining her academic skills. A lady of her class must keep her skin as pure and as white as a lily, she cannot be seen to work the fields like a peasant.”

“But she painted her face white anyway,” he grumbled, “nobody would be able to tell the difference…”

“All noblewomen are careful to keep their skin pale, it is a sign of status. Would you rather your wife had skin as smooth and as white as silk, or tanned and leathery like your friend Nagao?”

Satou dropped the subject, knowing that this wasn’t an argument that he could win. When they reached the door, he waited for his father and brother to enter, then took his mother aside once they were out of earshot.

“May I have some paper and ink, mother?”

“Oh!” she replied with a wide smile, “are you going to write a love letter to Lady Sasaki? How romantic.”

It was traditional for suitors to exchange letters and poetry during their courtship, and as the future head of his household, Satou too had be trained in literacy and calligraphy.

“Something like that,” he replied.

THE END OF CHAPTER TWO