In the Chrysanthemum Garden

by Pil Lee

Since the age of five, Yoshi had kept the royal rabbits warm.

His earliest memory was watching his grandmother knit little coats, one after another in different colours while his mother held the skeins of wool. Their house on the eastern edge of the Chrysanthemum Garden had only two rooms. One was the living room with a lean-to toilet and shower, and a brazier in the hard-packed dirt floor for cooking and keeping warm. The other was the wool room with a metal shute in the side wall where the local farmers would deposit their tax of fleece.

When his grandmother died, his mother took over the knitting and it was Yoshi’s turn to hold the rainbow coloured skeins.

As well as a fleece each, the farmers were beholden to feed Yoshi’s family when they delivered their tariff. But seasons were often cruel and the farm crops uncertain, and Yoshi and his mother never knew whether a delivery would bring rice and fruit and even a fish, or just a little bag of dried roots that was going to be thown out anyway.

Yoshi’s playground was the Chrysanthemum Garden, and his schooling was watching his mother work. By the time he was ten he could finish off the coats himself and deliver them to the Rabbit Master. Sometimes he would secretly run after the Master, his thin legs barely keeping up, and watch from behind a bush as the old man coaxed the Eternal Princess’s rabbits into his arms and into their coats. Yoshi would imagine the feeling of being on his lap and having his arms pushed into the sleeves and the snug warmth of that little jacket.

Even though they were surrounded by wool, they were not allowed to use any for themselves. It was the property of the Emperor. Every so often, when the winter was especially cold, Yoshi’s mother would pull a little saved fibre out of her cotton jacket and weave it invisibly into an old discarded scarf for Yoshi’s neck. When he watched the Rabbit Master he would wrap the scarf tightly around himself and imagine it was covering his whole body. He would run back home with a special hop he had invented for himself, like a rabbit returning to the nest.

Once he asked his mother why they had to use the wool to make coats for the rabbits. Why were the rabbits so important?

The rabbits belong to the Eternal Princess, said Yoshi’s mother, her arms up to the elbow in dye. The Eternal Princess loves her rabbits more than anything in the world and it is an honour for our family to keep them warm.

Yoshi nodded and helped his mother with the dye, but when he was a little older he asked her again.

How long have we been making coats for the royal rabbits?

His mother shook her head at him, annoyed. Why must you ask all these questions, she scolded. Aren’t you happy doing this important job for the Eternal Princess?

Yoshi was abashed, but he persevered. Are you happy, Mother? he asked.

His mother looked down at him and then, with a twinkle in her eye he rarely saw, she pulled a little woollen vest, all the colours of the rainbow, out from under their cot. She pushed it down over his head and then tucked his threadbare shirt carefully around it. I am happy today, she said, hugging him. Don’t let anyone see that my beloved son is wearing a royal coat under his vest!

Yoshi was full of pride for his mother and braved another question. If we have always been making coats for the rabbits of the Eternal Princess, does that mean she is really old?

His mother shook her head. Every Eternal Princess loves the rabbits more than anything in the world, she told him. When you are big and strong and I am gone, there will be a new Eternal Princess and you will keep her rabbits warm too.

One day Yoshi woke up to find the house cold and dark. The fire had gone out and his mother was still in the corner. He went to wake her but then he realised that she had left him and he was all alone. Later that day there was a delivery of fleece and he told the farmer what had happened. The farmer took his mother away, and from then on he dyed the wool, pulled the skeins and made the little coats by himself.

There were usually at least two workers producing the royal coats, so after a short while the Rabbit Master came to Yoshi’s house to complain about the slowness of production.

Last spring was very good, he said. There are more rabbits than ever. Soon the winter will fall and there aren’t enough coats for all of them.

Yoshi explained that his mother was dead and that he was working by himself. There was silence for a while. Then the Rabbit Master nodded. I see, he said. I did not know that Yatasi-san was gone. I will find another knitter to help you.

Yoshi didn’t know what to expect, but three days later a young girl walked through the Chrysanthemum Garden to his house. I am Makiko, she said. The Rabbit Master has sent me to help you make coats for the royal rabbits.

Yoshi had never seen a young girl before and could not speak or help her. But Makiko made her own bed in the corner and placed her belongings under it and after a little while working together she and Yoshi got along. He was the more senior, so he would knit the rabbit coats while Makiko held the skeins. He taught her how to dye the wool and they fell into an easy rythmn.

One day Yoshi asked Makiko about the Eternal Princess.

Have you ever seen her? he said.

Oh no, said Makiko. The Eternal Princess lives in the Emperor’s Palace many many miles away. How would I see her?

But what about when she comes to see her rabbits? said Yoshi. She loves them more than anything in the world.

Makiko was surprised. Why would she come here to see her rabbits? she asked. I am sure there are many many rabbits around the Emperor’s Palace.

And do they wear coats, asked Yoshi?

Of course, said Makiko. There are coats for all the Royal Rabbits no matter where they are.

Yoshi was taken aback, digesting this new information.

And who makes the coats for all the other rabbits in the other Royal Gardens? he asked.

Makiko didn’t know what to say. She had come to respect Yoshi’s quiet, sincere ways, and she especially treasured the rare times there was a twinkle in his eye. There are many makers of coats, Yoshi, she said at last. In each Garden.

Yoshi could not sleep that night. He wondered if his mother had known that they were not the only ones working for the Eternal Princess. It then occurred to him that there must be many Rabbit Masters and he left the knitting to Makiko next morning as he set out through the Garden.

He found the Master in the middle of the Garden and approached him hesitantly. The Master welcomed him with a clap on the shoulders and Yoshi was immediately heartened. Master, he began, I have heard about other Royal Rabbits.

The Master nodded and waited for Yoshi to continue.

Embarrassed, he said, Does that mean you are not the only Rabbit Master?

The Master smiled kindly at Yoshi. My son, he said, didn’t Yatasi-San tell you that?

No, said Yoshi, Makiko told me. I had no idea. I thought we were doing a special job, he blurted out, his face flaming.

You are, my boy, said the Master, resting his hand on his shoulder.

He turned and swept his hand over the never lands of Yoshi’s dreams, beyond the Chrysanthemum fields. You have never been in the world beyond, you have never seen the hardship and cruelty of reality when you pretended you were a rabbit.

Yoshi glanced up startled, and the Master laughed. Yes, I have seen the special hop. I know about the woollen vest that Yatasi-san made for our son. I know how she protected you and kept you safe. Though perhaps she shouldn’t have protected you from all the truths about our world. He gazed long into the distance, then sighed. But that was her decision, he said. I respect that, as I respected her.

Yoshi gazed at his new-found father, his world turned upside down, and he spoke bitterly. It seems my mother kept everything from me, he said.

The Rabbit Master spoke sternly then. She never kept her love from you, he said, as the Eternal Princess never keeps her love from these animals.

Yoshi laughed hollowly. How can the Eternal Princess value her rabbits more than she valued my mother, or you, or Makiko, or me, he cried.

The Rabbit Master struck Yoshi hard across the face and Yoshi reared back in shock, his own hand raised. It was then he realised that he was now taller, and much bigger, than the old Master, and his hand fell limply to his side. The Master struck Yoshi again, and thrust his face close.

We can never know the thoughts of the Eternal Princess, he said, biting off each word. We can never know the thoughts of the Emperor, and we will never venture outside this Chrysanthemum Garden. But we have the gift of a home, the gift of a place, and we have a royal calling that can be passed down from child to child as long as the Chrysanthemum throne exists.

He paused to watch a rabbit hopping by, its coat in rays of purple that Yoshi recognised as his Mother’s work.

The Master leaned in close and whispered in Yoshi’s ear. We are truly blessed my son, he said. We are the Eternal Ones.