Kikomi and the Dance of the Tiger

Mama-san neatly scurried in her dainty slippers into the front room of her home in the village. She knelt at a small shrine in the room’s corner where she lit a candle and some incense before rising. “Kikomi-chan,” said Mama-san, “have you begun to prepare yourself for your test? Last time, you know that your dance was purely unacceptable. I have not yet seen your practicing, my child.”
“Indeed,” answered the beautiful Kikomi, speaking loudly and clearly, “I need to begin other preparations; I’m having trouble starting to learn an appropriate dance for the court of the emperor.”
Mama-san shook her head sagely, her frown exaggerating the deep wrinkles on her face. “I only want the best for you, my child. I was once a dancer in the imperial court, and I do not wish for you to disgrace your heritage. So I entreat that you seek a traditional and magnificent dance that will mesmerize your Lord.”
“But what of one of my own creation, Mother? If I only sit in the forest to think, I am sure to create an imaginative piece that no other has yet seen. Please let me try one more time.”
“Yes, Kikomi-chan, but you must return with a dance. You are known to be easily distracted.”
Kikomi bowed to her mother before slipping on her high and sandals and leaving the small house through the paper screen doors. She lifted her white face into the spotlight of sun in the bright caricature of a medieval, Japanese town. She twisted and turned, hardly paying attention as she walked down the pebbly path to where the clusters of trees became dense and dark. She gently knelt to smell the flowers at her side, being delicate and careful to not rumple her crisp, white kimono.

* * *
It was truly peculiar how dark it quickly became whenever Kikomi walked past the mere edges of the forest. Nothing was there to frighten her, or at least nothing she could see. She stopped in a nearly perfectly circular clearing with one stump in the middle. Kikomi reached into the inside of her kimono and pulled out a bright fan. She unfurled it and spun around once before starting her awkward dance. The twists were hesitant and the bows poorly placed. The elegance in her natural walking vanished with the emergence of a virtually unused paper fan. Kikomi stopped her dance after stumbling over her own feet, and she neatly sat herself down on the flat top of the stump.
She sighed but tried not to cry; every girl or boy of the town knew that tigers came when they heard the sounds of weeping. However, Kikomi could not help herself. She put her face down into her thin fingers and wept lightly. The trees themselves seemed to stir in their positions, for there was a rustling no one could ignore.
Kikomi shot her head up and looked around. To her horror, the trees themselves spread apart like screen doors, and there emerged a tiger, walking not like a beast, but on two feet as elegantly as the greatest dancers.
“No!” shouted Kikomi as she stood and ran.
“Wait, Kikomi-chan. I know what you desire,” said the Tiger.
“Even I know that tigers are not known for speaking. Are you a deity of the spirit world, Tiger-san?” asked Kikomi.
“Indeed, child, I am. I am in control of much of the forest that you visit so frequently. But a year ago, you began to dance in hopes of entering the imperial court. I watched you struggle, and I want to help.”
“How can you help me?”
“The spirits can help anyone if one believes. Come here everyday, and you, Kikomi-chan, will have your dance before your test,” said the Tiger. He then turned and left; the trees slid back behind him.
“Thank you, great Tiger-san!” she shouted out behind him.
She ran as quickly as possible back home
As Kikomi ran, the lights grew brighter and stronger and more lively as she reached the quiet yet vivacious color of the village setting. The screen doors burst open violently as the running child fell inside.
“Mother, you must let me return to the forest only a few more times!” begged Kikomi.
“Kikomi-chan, what has happened to you?” asked Mama-san.
“That is not the important part, Mother. However, I now know that the key to my dance lies in the forest. My own creations now have a chance.”
“Why? What have you discovered, my child?”
“I believe the spirits will guide me in learning my dance,” answered Kikomi.
“The spirits, Kikomi-chan? What have you to say of them?” said Mama-san.
Kikomi sighed, “In the forest, my struggle brought forth the majesty of a great tiger spirit of the forest. He told me that his guidance there every day without question would bring me success in my dance.”
“You are a mischievous girl,” Mama-san shook her finger at Kikomi, “so I have come to know your tricks. I will let you continue your frivolities in the forest for now. If you are gracing my ears with the truth, than we have been truly honored indeed; if what I hear is a lie, than your loss in deserved.”
“Thank you, Mother. My dance will more than suffice for the eminence of the emperor.”

* * *
Kikomi sat in the center of the forest clearing, turning her head from side to side in search of the Tiger. In a moment, the trees parted like a door from which the spirit strolled.
“Ah, Kikomi-chan, I am honored that you have decided to undertake the learning of the ancient Tiger Dance.” He bowed deeply to Kikomi, and she bowed back. “Now that I have seen you are ready for the undertaking, simply dance, and you will be ready.”
In no time at all, the Tiger had left, and the doors of the forest had closed behind him. So, Kikomi stood up and began to dance; she pulled out her fan, but she saw that it was new even before opening it. She flicked it open with her small wrist, revealing a vivid picture of the great Tiger. She tripped a few times and ended it all with an odd and shaky bow.
“I will not give up my faith in the spirits,” said Kikomi to herself. “If this is how I am to be guided, then it can only end happily if I simply obey.
She turned around and walked out of the clearing to the path.

* * *
Dancing to the music of the forest, clear and sharp as if it were real, Kikomi practiced as the Tiger had commanded. Each day, she had more grace and poise and less mistakes and stumbles. Without having to sit and watch to learn the boring steps as she would with a private teacher, Kikomi received the progressively more difficult additions from the forest.
Many days after her first meeting with the great Tiger, as the test of the imperial court was growing nearer, Kikomi again stood in the circle in the forest, this time bathing in the bright lights. She was not looking for the Tiger, but rather she danced; it was not strange and difficult. Instead, she moved more gracefully than ever before. Her fan moved like an extension of her arm; Kikomi, as part of it. Each twist was neat and clean, and each bow was perfectly placed.
She stopped after one long, graceful bow. “I think I am now ready, Tiger-san.”
As if by summon, the great spirit glided one more time form the deep forest. He spoke, “I have been observing you, Kikomi-chan. You’re faith and diligence have brought you the gifts of my world. Now, with your test tomorrow, you can sleep calmly, for even the mortal emperor can appreciate the renown of the Dance of the Tiger.”
“Great Tiger-san of the spirit world, I am nothing but a poor young lady: unimportant and unnoticed. Why have you chosen me to bestow such gracious gifts?” asked Kikomi.
“The simple honor you’ve paid the spirits of your home never escapes our eyes.” He was gone before Kikomi could say anything more.

* * *
Kikomi and Mama-san slowly marched across the grand palace courtyard to the opening into the hall of the throne. Other dancers and their mothers and teachers walked in the procession between cheering spectators who had come to see the dancers soon to join the imperial court’s entertainment.
The room was bright and magnificent and full of all kinds of beautifully dressed courtiers. Above everyone on his high throne sat the emperor, barely visible in the distance. The mothers and dance teachers were shooed by various officials off to the side, leaving the young women standing before the throne. A middle-aged man wearing more makeup than some of the hopeful dancers arose on a platform and began to call names.
As each name was called, a girl stepped forward to present her dance. Some girls were impressive while others stumbled, tripped, made mistakes. The emperor watched from above. Kikomi stood tall, and the man reached her name on his parchment. “Hisaishi Kikomi-chan!”
Kikomi came forward and bowed deeply to the emperor. She rose her hand above her head and jerked her fan open, showing the entire court and audience the image of the Tiger spirit. Gasps and whispers hummed only until Kikomi began. Her dance was the most beautiful it had ever been-- no less than the natural beauty of the tiger. The finish sent gasps of awe through the observing audience. One last bow ended her test.
The other girls finished theirs as well; some were crying tears of joy with their anticipated success while others sobbed after foolish mistakes they knew they shouldn‘t have made. Then, the emperor stepped down off his throne. He cleared his throat. “Hasukura Naiamoti-san,” he said.
She stepped forward.
“Hatorri Noh-san.”
She stepped forward.
“Honda Natarishi-san.”
She stepped forward.
He paused and then said, “Hisaishi Kikomi-chan.”
Kikomi stepped forward, and the emperor said, “I have chosen the additions to my dancers of the royal, imperial court. I personally congratulate all those who spent the past year practicing so very hard. However, the ones chosen showed the elegance even respected by the spirits of our ancestors.” He clapped, and the audience clapped as well.
Kikomi turned to them and bowed. Mama-san came forward and hugged her, and she bowed as well; the applause increased. All the dancers turned and bowed. The Tiger from the forest stood on a high ledge in the corner of the hall. The audience clapped louder still, only ceasing when a great, red curtain blocked their view of Kikomi and her majestic story. The imperial court was gone, leaving only a buzzing theater, filled with exiting spectators.