FADE IN
WHITE SCREEN
SOUND OF ROARING WIND
The WHITENESS flickers, becomes mixed with yellow, slowly evolves into flickering flame.
INT. CLOSE ON FLICKERING TORCH
As it moves unsteadily across a blurred background. SOUND OF ROARING WIND getting closer. LOUD SOUND OF SHUTTER BANGING.
Flickering torch extinguished by a gust of wind.
INT. GREAT HALL AT LORD ARISHI’S COURT. EVENING.
A SERVANT drops the unlit torch to the stone floor and moves to refasten the wooden shutters that have blown open. As he does, we see through the window opening a wind whipping trees and blowing drops of rain past the window. Then the shutters are pulled shut. MOMENTARY BLACKNESS.
CAMERA SWINGS AROUND TO SEE
The Great Hall is filled with TWENTY-FIVE OR THIRTY SAMURAI and MANY SERVANTS, involved in a gala entertainment, lit by dozens of oil lamps and torches.
On a raised platform sits LORD ARISHI, a powerful-looking man of regal bearing, dominating the other dignitaries who sit near him.
Beside him but slightly below him sits MATARI, his wife, a woman of extraordinary beauty.
Kneeling behind them are several exquisitely dressed COURT LADIES. On the lower floor level are LADIES-IN-WAITING, relatives and LESSER GUESTS. THREE FEMALE ENTERTAINERS are presenting an entertainment of MUSIC with fans and ballet.
We see IN LONGSHOT, past a DANCER, Matari and Lord Arishi is intense discussion, their words lost in the last bit of MUSIC.
The entertainers finish and scurry off. As they do, Matari rises from her place beside Lord Arishi and moves away down towards the area the entertainers have just left.
Lord Arishi watches her departure coldly.
As Matari enters the entertainment area, the assembled guests look at her with both awe and appreciation of her beauty, but also unease. Several guests glance nervously up towards Lord Arishi. All become silent.
Alone, in a cleared space, Matari begins to sing, with a CLEAR BEAUTIFUL SOPRANO VOICE. As she does, more of the guests glance uneasily up to where the high nobles are seated.
WASH SCREEN TO
INT. SAME SCENE. LATER.
Matari finishes her performance. Some guests applaud, a few enthusiastically, including the young nobleman, LORD TAGAMI, but most look to Lord Arishi on the platform for guidance.
Lord Arishi looks down on Matari for a long moment and then rises and, taking no further notice of his wife, marches off the platform to leave, followed by a half-dozen retainers.
The applause immediately peters out. The remaining lords, ladies and guests are nervous, and look at Matari with averted eyes. One or two snicker.
Matari stands there defiantly a moment and then wheels to leave the room also. Her LADY-IN-WAITING, YUKI, hurries after her.
INT. HALLWAY.
Matari, followed by Yuki and a SERVANT carrying a lamp, hurries along the hallway. LORD TAGAMI rushes up to overtake her, bows, and eyes radiant with adoration, begins talking to her.
Yuki moves discretely away near a small unshuttered window, through which air rushes and the SOUND OF THE WIND outside muffles the words being exchanged by Matari and her admirer.
Matari responds to Lord Tagami both with pleasure at his obvious adoration, but some restraint.
Yuki looks nervously past them back down the hallway. There, thirty feet away, A SMALL MAN appears and stops, watching Matari and Tagami, his face coldly appraising.
CUT TO
INT. PRIVATE ROOM OF LORD ARISHI.
The room is masculine, military and severe. A YOUNG GEISHA sits in one corner of the room playing a soft melody on a stringed instrument. FROM BEHIND HER we can see Lord Arishi standing erect in front of a display of swords and a huge suit of armor, both attached to the wall behind him. With their backs mostly to THE CAMERA, the SMALL MAN seen earlier and TWO SAMURAI are talking to him with great intensity, their words muffled and only partly heard over the SOUNDS OF THE MUSIC. Lord Arishi listens coldly.
The small man speaks in an oily, sycophantic way; one of the samurai more earnestly and forthright.
As they speak to him, Lord Arishi’s face becomes paler, but his expression doesn’t change. He stares past the men addressing him. SOUND OF RISING WIND.
CUT TO
INT. GREAT HALL. LATER.
LONG SHOT. The room where the gala had been held is now empty except for Lord Arishi, Lord Tagami, and SIX OR SEVEN of LORD ARISHI’S SAMURAI. SOUND OF WIND RISES FURTHER. Lord Arishi and Lord Tagami are confronting each other, but their words overwhelmed by the SOUNDS OF BLUSTERING WIND.
Only a dozen lamps are still lit and a shutter has blown loose and is BANGING, rain gusting into the room. Wind blows scraps of rice paper and other light debris in swirls about the room.
After several moments the two lords both step back from each other. Each bows.
Then each man draws his sword.
SOUND OF WIND INCREASES. The two men advance on each other.
CUT TO
INT. MATARI’S ROOM.
While in the background TWO SERVANTS are arranging some clothing, Matari is standing near a long table on which are brushes, inks, rice paper and three brush-and-ink drawings.
Matari holds up one of the pen-and-ink drawings to examine it. The drawing is of a mountain gorge, a single twisted tree clinging to the side of a cliff above the slashing torrent.
As Matari examines the painting, Yuki rushes into the room, her face filled with fear. She comes up to Matari but is unable to speak, her eyes wide with horror. SOUND OF COMMOTION IN OUTSIDE HALLWAY.
Matari and Yuki both turn to look at the doorway.
Lord Arishi, breathing heavily and his left arm bloodied, stands at the door.
For a long moment no one speaks.
LORD ARISHI
Lord Tagami is dead.
Yuki and the two servants are cowering and look fearfully to Matari to see her response.
Matari stands without moving, her expressionless gaze meeting that of her husband.
After a moment he strides towards her but stops halfway next to the table with the drawings.
LORD ARISHI (CONT)
You have nothing to say?
MATARI
I . . . have nothing to say, my Lord.
Lord Arishi looks briefly away but then back to Matari with a look of appeal on his fierce face.
LORD ARISHI
What has changed, Matari? Our position
is the same, our wealth, we are honored
by the great far and wide. And yet . . .
you . . .
MATARI
I am changed, My Lord. And you will
not honor who I wish to be.
Arishi looks at her, his face showing agonizing conflict.
To collect himself he turns away from Matari and leans on the table, with both hands by chance falling on either side of the drawing of the twisted tree clinging to the side of a gorge. His left hand, bloodied from his arm wound, touches the drawing.
Blood slowly seeps into the paper forming an ugly blotch.
Lord Arishi straightens and turns back to Matari.
The two stare at each other.
LORD ARISHI
I swear if you ever dishonor me
again in any way . . . I will
end forever . . . all dishonor.
Matari stands mute and expressionless. Then she slowly lowers her head in a bow.
MATARI
As you say, my Lord.
Lord Arishi gazes at her, wanting more of a response, but Matari again stands mute and expressionless.
Arishi whirls, sweeps the drawings and brushes off the table and strides from the room.
After he has gone Matari stands for a long moment looking down at the floor, where the drawing of the twisted tree clinging to the side of a gorge has come to rest, the redness of Lord Arishi’s blood blotching one corner.
Yuki and the two servants look at her with fearful concern.
Matari slowly raises her head and, without looking at the waiting Yuki or the two servants, moves to the shuttered window. She stands before it a moment, her eyes tearing, staring at the wooden shutter and hearing behind it the SOUND OF THE MUTED WIND.
Then she reaches forward, opens the latch and pushes out the shutter. SOUND OF EXPLODING WIND.
The rain has now changed fully to snow, which flies almost horizontally across in front of the window. Matari stares into the white blur.
As Matari looks out the window and the SCREEN gradually becomes whiter and whiter, we hear mingled in with the SOUND OF WIND BLOWING THROUGH PINE TREES, an EERIE WHINNYING OF A HORSE.
WHITEOUT.
SOUND OF WIND GROWS LOUDER AND LOUDER
DISSOLVE TO
EXT. MOUNTAINSIDE. EARLY MORNING.
As the sound of this WIND rises, the white coalesces again as driven snow, intermittently broken by a gray shape appearing and disappearing across the screen.
Out of this roaring whiteness a SINGLE FIGURE on a huge horse emerges, struggling against the winds and snow, moving up a mountain trail, long black hair flying out behind her. For one brief instant we see her snow-slashed face: MATARI.
And then the screen is again overwhelmed by white. The SOUND OF THE HOWLING WIND continues.
DISSOLVE TO
When the whiteness next takes form, a SECOND FIGURE, on foot, emerges from the whiteness moving slightly downward through the same blizzard with the wind at his back, his face almost shrouded by his wrappings. As he fades and emerges in the whiteness we see a face that we’ll know later as that of OBOKO.
DISSOLVE TO
EXT. BLIZZARD. DAY.
Matari and the horse struggle upwards against the
blizzard until again the screen is totally whited out. The roar of the wind is topped by a PIERCING NEIGH—the sound of the horse whinnying in pain.
The whiteness momentarily clears and we see the horse fallen, unable to rise, and Matari’s left leg trapped beneath it. As she lies motionless with eyes closed, the snow begins to accumulate on her face and hair.
Then the rush of snow leaves all in WHITENESS.
DISSOLVE TO
EXT.SNOW-COVERED MOUNTAIN TRAIL. LATE AFTERNOON.
The FIGURE on foot, OBOKO, staggers through the continuing blizzard and comes to a halt, squinting through the snow. He sees an abandoned wooden temple and pushes forward. He forces open the main temple door.
INT. TEMPLE.
As Oboko peers in, the snow floats in from broken, unshuttered windows and lies in little conical hills on the floor. Oboko enters, snow melting from his eyebrows. He smells smoke and notices the dying embers of a fire. SOUND OF CREAKING ROPE, LIGHT TAPPING OF SHUTTER.
Oboko moves silently to the wall near the fire and lowers his bundle of clothing and cooking utensils to the floor. With his right hand he loosens the bindings along the front of his snow-covered cloak and slides his hand in to grasp the hilt of his short sword. Without a sound he slowly draws it out from its wooden sheath. Snow melts from his brows and trickles into one eye. He brushes the wetness away.
With sword drawn he looks carefully around the main room and then moves cautiously down a hallway. When he looks into the first room he sees nothing but dirt and some loose straw. As he moves on, he hears a BUZZING SOUND.
He eases silently towards the open cubicle from which the RHYTHMICAL SOUND comes. He sees a dark figure lying in one corner of the room. The black mass is snoring.
Oboko enters and pokes at the SLEEPING MAN gently with the end of his sword. The man begins to moan at the touch, a low hoarse ‘no, no, no, no’.
When Oboko lightly pokes him again there is a SCREAM OF TERROR, and a round-faced man, ISSA, sits up, eyes wide with fear.
ISSA
Get away!!
Oboko leaps back and raises his sword.
ISSA (CONT)
(pulling back in terror)
Get away! I’m not ready!
As Issa stares at him, Oboko lowers his sword.
OBOKO
It’s me, Oboko.
ISSA
Oboko! Great tongue of Buddha!
As Oboko relaxes and smiles, Issa staggers to his feet, and, wild-eyed, clutches Oboko’s arms.
ISSA (CONT)
I thought you were Death Himself
come to get me!
Oboko smiles.
ISSA (CONT)
You’re finally here! A drink! Great
Buddha’s balls, a drink!
Oboko, a lean and fit young samurai, follows Issa, a thickset man with thick hair and beard, back to the main room.
The two men throw wood onto the fire and it is soon burning brightly. Wrapped in an expensive great coat, Issa collapses with a grunt to sit cross-legged on the floor. He pulls from inside his greatcoat an earthenware bottle, looks at it with beaming reverence and takes a long drink. Licking his lips, he hands the flask to Oboko.
ISSA
I thought you’d never get here, my
friend. I’m out of food.
OBOKO
I also.
A look of disappointment crosses Issa’s face.
ISSA
Well, we can quote our poetry
to each other as we starve to death.
Issa laughs, folding his hands over his big belly. His thick black hair and beard are tousled, with pieces of straw clinging here and there.
OBOKO
(returning the flask)
You look well-fed.
ISSA
I just ate the last of my food—
half a rabbit. Never put off ‘til
tomorrow what you can eat today.
(takes another swig)
And getting down to Kamakawa is
impossible until the snow stops.
They both pause to listen to the sound of the wind hissing and shuddering with little pops at the windows, whining across the roof top and roaring through the frozen pine forest which encircles the temple.
OBOKO
The Gods can’t starve a big man like
you. It’s the lean ones like me
they shut up in temples and starve.
ISSA
Ah, ‘Boko, you could exist for
months on the wind and snow, but
I need food, heat, people, the city.
I’m going crazy here. My heart
beats like a drummer experimenting
with new rhythms. It stopped beating
completely three hours ago, but I
hiccoughed and got it going again.
Although Issa looks totally serious, Oboko laughs. Issa absentmindedly takes a third gulp from the bottle before handing it back.
ISSA (CONT)
So you’re still planning to become
a disciple of Master Mori’s in Kamakawa?
OBOKO
Yes.
ISSA
And give up being a warrior
but not being a poet?
OBOKO
I don’t know. That’s why I go to
Master Mori. Our Bushido code asks
us to be indifferent to killing.
I’m no longer certain such detachment
is good.
Issa holds a half-empty bottle at his belly and sighs.
ISSA (CONT)
You go to Master Mori to search
for answers, while I go to
Kamakawa to become poet at the court
of the great Lord Arishi.
OBOKO
Ahhh.
ISSA
‘Ahhh’ is right. Lord Arishi has promised
me twice what I was paid in Kyoto.
And the Lady Arishi is supposed to be the most beautiful woman since Mara the temptress.
OBOKO
You have arrived.
Issa snorts out a laugh.
ISSA
Not quite. I’m stuck in an abandoned
temple in a spring blizzard
without food and almost without sake.
Issa heaves a deep sigh and stares into the fire.
They listen together for a moment to the wind howling outside in the trees.
DISSOLVE TO
INTERIOR TEMPLE. LATER.
Issa, snoring, is slumped awkwardly against the wall, the flask hugged to his chest.
Oboko is seated in the lotus posture, his back straight, his head lowered, his hands open on his knees. His eyes are half closed as he meditates, counting his breaths. The snow still steadily dances through the windows, falling in soft spirals into the occasional blocks of moonlight on the frozen floor. The only sounds are of the wind and Issa’s steady snoring.
CAMERA SLOWLY CLOSES IN ON OBOKO as he sits serious and erect until we are CLOSE UP on his face, then on his half-closed eyes.
SOUND OF A HORSE WHINNYING OUTSIDE THE TEMPLE
Oboko’s eyes snap open, intense, electric.
He slowly unfolds himself from the lotus posture and stands. Again the SOUND OF A HORSE’S HIGH-PITCHED NEIGH.
Oboko moves quickly across the floor of the temple to the door. He stands listening, hears only the wind. He waits a moment longer, then pulls open the door and plunges out into the night. He gasps as the cold air slashes across his face and shoves his body back toward the temple. Then he thrusts himself forward and staggers out.
EXT. OUTSIDE TEMPLE.
Oboko pauses, the moonlight momentarily whitening the snow.
Oboko SHOUTS.
Only the wind answers, with its own long-drawn “AAIIIII III”. Lifting one heavy foot after another through the two feet of snow, Oboko heads off against the wind.
He hears from behind him a SOUND. Wheeling around, he trots with the wind, stopping after twenty paces to SHOUT AGAIN, and then plods on.
He stumbles to his knees, rises, and then, ahead of him he sees a huge mound of darkness in the snow, a horse’s head barely emerging.
He falls on his knees beside the horse and frantically brushes snow from the HUMAN FIGURE which lies sprawled beside and partially beneath the horse. Soon revealed is Matari, eyes closed, face only a blur. One foot lies under the horse, which lies GASPING heavily. Oboko digs with his fingers into the snow around Matari’s legs until he frees the pinned foot.
Eyes blinded by a few whiplash flakes, he lifts her into his arms and stumbles back towards the temple.
INT. TEMPLE. NIGHT.
Oboko pushes open the door and carries Matari across the room and lowers her beside the red remains of the fire. His teeth chattering, he removes her shoes, rubs her tiny feet with his hands and wraps them in his blanket. Her legs are covered: she is wearing woman’s pants. Issa snores.
Oboko gently brushes the snow away from her face, which, in the embers of the fire, is too dim to be seen.
He gathers some of Issa’s kindling and builds up the fire. When he turns back to Matari to remove the last flakes of snow from her hair, she opens her eyes.
So alive and beautiful is the face revealed by the light of the fire that Oboko is stunned.
As they stare at each other, Matari’s large soft eyes search his gravely.
MATARI
(an awed whisper)
I didn’t die.
Oboko and Matari’s eyes explore each other as if creatures from different universes meeting for the first time. Finally, she gives the slightest and most ambiguous smile and then her eyes, as suddenly as they opened, close.
Oboko leaps to his feet. He stares down at Matari in stunned awe at what he has seen.
He wheels away, as if fighting what has happened to him.
CUT TO
INT. GREAT HALL. NIGHT.
Lord Arishi stands with feet apart staring stonily, his left arm bandaged.
IGUCHI’S VOICE (O.S.)
We found Yuki and two retainers.
She’s taken the trail south toward
Kybo. She’s probably trying to get
to Tanabo.
Lord Arishi nods.
LORD ARISHI
Get me Suda and Tamika.
CAMERA PULLS BACK TO REVEAL
THREE SAMURAI standing respectfully, one, IGUCHI, slightly ahead of the other two, who hold torches.
IGUCHI
Hai!
He motions to the others and they quickly bow and leave.
IGUCHI (CONT)
The snow is impossible. There’s no
way she can reach even the Kybo Pass.
LORD ARISHI
We shall see. Have three horses
saddled.
IGUCHI
No one can possibly—
LORD ARISHI
Now, Iguchi!
Iguchi bows and hurries off.
Lord Arishi’s face remains stony.
CUT TO
INT. TEMPLE MAIN ROOM. NIGHT.
Issa sits up abruptly from where he has been lying asleep, his eyes wide with fear from some nightmare vision. He looks around nervously and sees Matari lying by the fire.
He rises and walks slowly over to stare down at her, wobbling a bit as he goes.
Oboko enters from the hallway carrying a small blanket and comes up beside him.
ISSA
‘Boko, a miracle has occurred! Look!
A princess . . .
OBOKO
Yes . . . a miracle.
ISSA
. . . How did she . . . ?
Then he stops. Matari has opened her eyes and now sits up, holding Oboko’s blanket in front of her. She looks without fear at the two men.
ISSA (CONT)
Welcome, lovely lady. I am Issa,
famous poet soon of the court of
Lord Arishi, and this is Oboko,
poet of the wind.
Matari comes to her feet and backs a step away from Issa, looking at him now with fear. Her silence and cold face make Issa also take a step backward.
ISSA (CONT)
We mean you no harm, my Lady.
MATARI
I am Lady ... Matari ... Matari
Sensai of Kamakawa.
ISSA
And what brings you to our religious
retreat in the mountains?
Matari looks uncertainly at Oboko, then back to Issa.
MATARI
I am on my way to visit relations
in the south. My retainers lost
me in the blizzard. I thank you
for saving me.
ISSA
What can we do for you now?
Matari pulls Oboko’s blanket closer to her.
MATARI
(considering)
My clothing . . . bags. My horse!
OBOKO
Still outside. He’s dying.
MATARI
(dreamily)
Konlo carried me so far . . .
OBOKO
I’ll get your bags.
Oboko heads toward the door.
MATARI
Sir!
Oboko stops and turns.
MATARI (CONT)
Konlo shouldn’t suffer.
Oboko hesitates, bows, and goes to the door. As he opens it he looks back and sees a smiling Issa urging Matari to sit. He leaves.
CUT TO
EXT. SNOW-SLASHED MOUNTAINSIDE.
With the snow sweeping over him and the horse GASPING PAINFULLY, a barely visible Oboko unties the first of the bags from the horse, then struggles with the second. As he does, the horse feebly raises its head then lets it fall back into the snow.
Oboko looks at the dying horse a long moment and reluctantly pulls out his short sword. On his knees he moves closer to the horse’s throat. The open glazed eyes of the horse look into his. The labored breathing continues.
Oboko reaches forward with the knife towards the throat and holds it poised there. Then he twists his wrist so that with the back of his hand he gently wipes some snow from the horse’s head. He wipes several times, almost compulsively.
Then he leans back, resheathes his sword and returns to the second bag. As he does, the flap is torn open by the force of the wind. A sheet of rice paper appears half out of the bag and trembles in the wind. As Oboko takes hold of it and stuffs it back into the bag he sees more rice paper and a sheaf of brushes.
Frowning, he pulls out a small clothe bag, hefts it, shakes it, (SOUND OF COINS CLINKING),feels it, and then returns it to the traveling bag.
He then continues to struggle to free the bag.
CUT TO
INT. TEMPLE. LATER
Oboko pushes in the door and carries three bags into the temple. Although Matari turns her head to look at him, Issa barely notices Oboko’s arrival. He’s preparing tea.
Oboko brings the bags over to Matari by the fire.
MATARI
I thank you, Oboko.
Oboko kneels next to the fire and brushes snow from his coat. Matari pours tea into an earthenware cup and hands it to him. He takes it without looking at her.
ISSA
Lady Sensai married one of the
cousins of the great and glorious
Arishi clan.
Oboko simply nods, sipping his tea.
ISSA (CONT)
She was on her way to Tanabo for
the spring flower festival.
Oboko looks briefly at Issa and then for the first time at Matari. She is looking expressionlessly across the room.
OBOKO
Was your husband with you?
ISSA
Her husband is joining her later.
Oboko again looks at Issa, who glares at him, and then down into the fire.
OBOKO
A lady traveling with retainers
doesn’t carry her own bags.
Issa looks quickly at Matari but she doesn’t move or speak. She is clearly torn. After a moment she turns to Oboko.
MATARI
I am . . . fleeing from my husband.
Issa looks surprised, but Oboko simply gives a single nod.
OBOKO
You don’t have to say more.
Again she and Oboko look at each other intensely. Matari looks away at the window.
ISSA
What did you do?
Matari glances at Issa then looks away from both men.
MATARI
I sang in front of the court.
ISSA
And your husband wouldn’t
forgive you?
MATARI
(after a hesitation)
Lord Arishi couldn’t forgive me.
OBOKO
Why do you speak of him?
MATARI
The family of Arishi is rotten with
the disease of honor.
There is a silence.
ISSA
But I’ve heard they’re the oldest and
most noble family in Kamakawa!
MATARI
They are. They have a rich, old, and
noble rottenness, which in the name
of honor corrupts all.
Oboko stares at the fire; Issa pokes at the coals. Matari looks past them at the other side of the room.
ISSA
(breaking the silence)
Do you think Lord Arishi will let
me compose poems celebrating the
greatness and antiquity of his
family’s rot?
Matari lowers her tea to the floor beside her and gracefully stands. She looks down at Oboko.
MATARI (CONT)
Lord Arishi’s court must be the best.
The court wives must be the best.
A falling off of one of his family
or their wives is a grave insult.
Oboko looks up at her.
MATARI (CONT)
(with quiet bitterness)
For a woman, the court is
a silk-walled prison.
OBOKO
A prison?
MATARI
(with sudden passion)
Yes! I was educated to dance, paint,
write, sing, ride. But by tradition,
the wife of an Arishi is expected to
excel in only two things: beauty and silence. If you have poetry or song
or wit or skill, you may express them
to your husband when you’re alone—when
he’s telling you of his latest military triumph.
A gust of wind puffs a cloudy swirl of smoke back into the room into their faces and for a moment all turn away, Issa coughing.
OBOKO
You speak of the way the world is.
MATARI
Then for me the world is a prison.
Matari is now facing a boarded window and as she seems to stare through it, her eyes glisten with tears.
MATARI (CONT)
Had I been content to bathe myself
in trinkets for a lifetime, I could
have stayed.
(beat)
But now . . . they’re coming.
Oboko slowly rises and stands, Matari takes several steps toward the hallway and turns to Oboko.
MATARI (CONT)
Is there a room where I may sleep?
Oboko looks at her a long moment and then nods.
DISSOLVE TO
INT. TEMPLE HALLWAY ROOM. NIGHT.
Oboko works to clear the small room of scraps of debris: rusted metal, shards of pottery.
INT. TEMPLE MAIN ROOM.
Matari and Issa are seated again near the fire. Issa, smiling, is talking enthusiastically to Matari.
INT. TEMPLE HALLWAY ROOM. LATER.
There is now straw for bedding, and the room is no longer cluttered with debris. Oboko enters the room behind Matari carrying two of her bags and a lamp. He lowers them to the floor.
When Matari turns to him they look at each other. She lowers her eyes.
MATARI
I thank you.
Oboko bows and leaves.
Matari stands looking around the room, then picks up the oil lamp and goes to the room’s entrance. She peeks out down the hallway towards the main room. Only a dim light is visible.
She moves silently down the hallway further from the main room until she comes to a dark long-unused cubicle room. She looks in. It is filled with the debris taken from her room and also two large metal fragments from an old oven and some rusted pots. She moves cautiously in and goes to the back wall of the room and kneels down behind one of the large metal sheets that is propped at an angle to the wall. When she ducks down she can’t be seen from the doorway.
She rises, moves to the door and looks back at the hiding place behind the metal sheet. Then she picks up her lamp and moves away back toward her own room.
INT. TEMPLE MAIN ROOM. LATER.
Oboko is seated in the lotus posture; Issa snores nearby. Beside him is ink, brush and a scroll of rice paper. He stares into the fire for a long moment and then picks up the brush and leans down to write:
CLOSE ON OBOKO’S RICE PAPER: WRITING IS JAPANESE CALLIGRAPHY. SUPERIMPOSED AS SUBTITLE IS THE ENGLISH:
My head and body frozen,
The heart enclosed in ice.
Her opened eyes:
Spring.
CUT TO
EXT. COURTYARD. NEAR DAWN.
Lord Arishi a YOUNG SAMURAI, SUDA, and an gray-haired OLDER MAN, TAMIKA, are preparing to mount horses, held by SEVERAL SERVANTS. Other SERVANTS hold torches. Iguchi is near Lord Arishi. They are under the protection of a roof but just outside, snow is blowing in powerful blizzard-like bursts across the courtyard.
IGUCHI
I should be coming with you.
Lord Arishi swings up onto his horse.
LORD ARISHI
For a woman?
Iguchi backs away from the restless horse. Young Suda and the older Tamika also mount. The two bring their horses up beside and slightly behind Lord Arishi.
LORD ARISHI
(to Iguchi)
When the blizzard stops you may
follow with your men.
With that he spurs his horse and trots out into the wind and snow, and the two others follow.
They disappear into the darkness, but as they move on, the coming DAWN outlines their silhouettes against the sky.
CUT TO
EXT. MOUNTAIN WOODS. MORNING.
Oboko is dragging through the snow a load of snow-smeared fire wood, a rough blanket being used as sled.
As he nears the temple Oboko sees the smoke curling out of the crumbling chimney. He trudges onward, eyes-half closed, his face impassive.
After awhile he stops a few feet from one of the temple’s windows. After he has wiped sweat from his face he leaves his haul of firewood and moves to the window.
He hesitates a moment and then looks in. Matari and Issa seem to be talking happily. Matari is kneeling, her hands folded in front of her, while Issa is sprawled on the other side of the fire grinning.
Oboko looks for a moment and then, expressionless, turns back to his load of wood.
CUT TO
EXT. MOUNTAINSIDE. DUSK.
Lord Arishi has his black horse struggling upwards through the deep snow, more snow falling lightly. A hundred feet behind him the two other samurai struggle upwards after him.
Lord Arishi halts his horse, looks back at the two others, and then stares upwards through the gathering darkness.
CUT TO
EXT. RIDGE OVERLOOKING KAMAKAWA TRAIL. DUSK
Oboko is standing staring downwards, his breath coming in white puffs. In the twilight he can see no more than two hundred yards. Issa is sitting on a fallen tree trunk.
ISSA
The woman is trouble.
Oboko climbs a few paces higher and again stares downwards.
ISSA (CONT)
As a mistress she’d be all tears
and trouble. I bet I’d have to
hear about every bit of her family’s
rot between each lay.
(he looks up at Oboko)
How’d you know she was running away?
OBOKO
Ladies don’t carry small fortunes.
At least not with their husband’s permission.
ISSA
She brought a lot of money?
Oboko nods. Issa groans.
ISSA (CONT)
Ah, Buddha, triple trouble. She not
only gets caught tummy to tummy
with some nobleman, but runs off
with a fortune.
OBOKO
Is that how she put it, “tummy to
tummy”?
Issa restlessly stands.
ISSA
Oh no. She said: “A nobleman was
very kind to me, and my husband
became jealous.”
OBOKO
And you read that as “tummy to
tummy”?
ISSA
How else? Great hump of hell they
must have sent an army after her!
OBOKO
As long as the snow falls, no
one’s leaving Kamakawa to try to
come here.
ISSA
And when it stops snowing?
OBOKO
We’ll bid the lovely Matari farewell
and descend to the city.
ISSA
We can’t.
Oboko turns with a puzzled frown.
ISSA (CONT)
Matari is being chased. It’s
our duty to save her.
OBOKO
It is?
ISSA
(looking downwards)
Some would consider it our duty to
turn her over to her husband, but
we’re poets.
Issa then smiles and goes up close to Oboko.
ISSA (CONT)
Besides, she’ so pretty! Such eyes!
(grinning)
Come, ‘Boko, let’s both seduce her.
We’ll do it in rhymed couplets.
Oboko looks at Issa a moment and then brushes past him to begin walking back down to the temple.
OBOKO
Who will write the first line?
As Oboko
