Pathway to Japanese Literature

Author: Kikuchi Kan

Characters

Kunisada Chūji

Inari no Kurōsuke Itawari no Asatarō Shimamura no Kasuke Matsuiida no Kizō Tamamura no Yasuke Namikawa no Saisuke

Kappa no Kichizō

Yamikumo no Ushimatsu

Shaka no Jūzō Three Others Time and Place Mountains spanning from Jōshū to Shinshū.

Early Tenpō era, autumn.

Scene

Early dawn of an autumn day, a mountainside where young pines had taken root. The ground was thick with clumps of dwarf bamboo; before sunrise, Mount Akagi was faintly visible in the cloudless western sky.

When the curtain rises, Saisuke and Asatarō enter. Both of them tuck up the lightly soiled hems of their lined kimonos, wear gaiters, and have straw sandals on their feet. Each has a single long short sword thrust through their waistbands. Asatarō ties his cracked scabbard with rope. When the two reach the center of the stage, a voice calling from behind can be heard.

A voice called out: “Hey, Brother Asa, wait!” Asatarō: “Hey! What is it?”

A voice called out—"Hey! Hey!" "Brother Asa." Asatarō: "Hey! What is it?"

A voice called out: “Wait a moment!” “Don’t stray too far!” Asatarō: “Got it! I’ll wait here.” (Turning to Saisuke) “Hey—let’s take a break.” Saisuke: “You sure stopping here’s safe?” Asatarō: “Safe enough.” “Broke through Kido Checkpoint ’round five last night.” “Walked straight through since.” “Covered near ten ri already.” Saisuke: “Can’t believe everyone’s kept pace.”

Asatarō: “This little march wouldn’t make us flinch, but old relics like Kurōsuke and Ushimatsu must be ready to drop by now.” Saisuke: “Still, they’ve endured and kept up this far.” Asatarō: “They’re the ones always running their mouths about the old days. Can’t exactly back out now without losing face, can they?” While they spoke, Kurōsuke and Yasuke emerged side by side. (Kurōsuke was a man nearing fifty; Yasuke looked about forty.)

“Hey, Brother Inari. Are the legs holding up?”

Kurōsuke: “What nonsense are you spouting? I may look like this now, but when I was young and heard a gambling den was up? I’d walk ten, twenty ri through night roads without a care. However old I get, I won’t lose to the likes of you when it comes to these legs and back.”

“Doesn’t look like that’s the case now, does it Brother? Crossing Mount Haruna seemed to wear you out plenty.” “What nonsense you spoutin’? That’s more your lot’s look! These greenhorns today ain’t half-seasoned yet.” Kurōsuke spat, his voice roughening with pride. “When we ran with Brother Chūji in our prime – Shinshū to Kōshū we’d roam, den to den – ten, twenty ri a day? Child’s play!” Yasuke nodded slowly, the morning light catching his conciliatory smile. “True enough... Brother Inari here lived large back then.” His fingers brushed the frayed rope on his scabbard. “Why, even Oyabun Chūji likely learned a gambler’s formal ways from you.”

Asatarō: “Hmph.” “Is that so?” “He might’ve learned the formal ways from Brother Inari, but there’s no way he picked up those guts and muscle from you.” Kurōsuke (his face darkening): “What did you say? Don’t talk nonsense.” Asatarō: “I’m not talking nonsense.” “You’re always going on about ‘back in the day,’ but no matter how much you yap, the past stays past.” “I don’t know if you were once some big-shot gambler above Oyabun, but now that you’ve taken his cup and become his man, you’re just another peer like us.” “Quit flaunting ancient history.”

(Kurōsuke fell silent.) Yasuke: “But Asatarō—just because the Oyabun favors you, don’t go talking so sharp to us old-timers. Showing a bit more consideration wouldn’t bring divine punishment.” Asatarō: “Hah! Me show consideration? Don’t make me laugh.”

“You bastard—what’d you say? What’s your damn problem?” Kurōsuke snapped. “Hey now,” Saisuke cut in, “what’s gotten into you elders? This ain’t the time for brothers to be brawling!”

“But it’s ’cause this old fossil keeps puffin’ himself up like he’s still somebody,” Asatarō shot back. “What’re you yappin’ about?” Kurōsuke barked. “You’re the one struttin’ around like some cocky pup who ain’t been weaned yet!”

“Well, let it go,” said Yasuke. “The time’ll come when we see whether the young ones prove useful or the old ones do.” Saisuke—suddenly noticing Chūji approaching—called out: “Hey—Oyabun’s arrived!”

(All four stood up.) Chūji entered with his subordinates—Kasuke, Kizō, Ushimatsu, and others—his tanned face bearing a scar near the temples; his slightly haggard appearance only intensifying his fearsome demeanor. (He wore a Kantō-striped lined kimono with gaiters and straw sandals, a long short sword in a sharkskin scabbard at his waist, and a sedge-woven hat hanging down his back.)

Saisuke: "Oyabun must be exhausted." Chūji: "Hmm, don't worry." "I can still walk another five or ten ri without a problem." Asatarō: "Oyabun, please have a seat over here." "The grass is cleaner over here."

Chūji: My legs aren’t tired, but I’m sleepy. Kasuke: That’s true. “That’s the same for everyone here, I tell you.”

Kizō: But we can’t afford to relax. “While our legs and hips still hold out, we should cross into Shinshū.”

“Hey—you can see Mount Akagi there, can’t you?” (Everyone noticed.)

“Not a single cloud out there—that’s why it’s showing up so clear,” said Asatarō. “A nostalgic mountain,” murmured Chūji.

He had thought this would be his final resting place here, but whether through the mercy of gods and buddhas or what have you, they had somehow managed to fight their way through nearly a thousand lawmen from eight provinces. Kizō: "Oyabun, you think gods and buddhas would spare a glance for the likes of us? This was all our own brute strength." Chūji: "Ah hahaha! Can't argue with that." "Still—you all worked hard." "I'll say it proper—my thanks." The group: "What're you on about?" "That's madness talk!" Chūji (sitting down on dwarf bamboo): "Mount Akagi... Last time I'll lay eyes on you." "Hey—let's rest here awhile."

(Everyone surrounded Chūji and sat down.) (Subordinate Kappa no Kichizō entered following after them.)

Kichizō: “Oyabun, I’ve secured breakfast.” “At a farmer’s house down below—they happened to be cooking rice—so I had them make proper rice balls for us.” Chūji: “That’s much appreciated.” “Make sure to leave them plenty of silver coins.”

“Understood,” said Kichizō. (Kichizō exited.) “This means we can rest easy until the food’s ready,” remarked Kizō.

(Everyone fell silent for a while.) Kurōsuke: Maybe I'll catch some shut-eye until the food arrives. Yasuke: “That’s a good idea.”

Kasuke: Maybe I’ll catch some shut-eye too.

Chūji: Hey! “Hold on!” Kasuke: “What’s this, Oyabun? Getting all formal?”

“Hey!” “Everyone.”

(Because Chūji was tense, Everyone straightened their posture.)

“Hey! Everyone.” “I want you all to listen—I’m thinking of slipping away to Shinshū alone from here on.” “I’d take you all if I could, but after cutting down those officials and breaking through the realm’s forbidden checkpoint, we can’t have ten or twenty of us marching shackled under heaven’s gaze. That won’t do.” “Though truth told, I’d want two or three with me—but after all we’ve suffered together till now, I can’t bring myself to pick among you all, saying ‘you go’ and ‘you stay.’” “If we go together, I want every last one of you—if we part ways, let it be clean so no grudges fester.” “Now—there’s about 150 ryō left here. Twelve ryō each for you all, and I’ll keep what’s left.” “Each of you—plan your own escape!” “Listen well—take care of yourselves!” “If you hear Chūji’s been caught and sent to Edo, burn a stick of incense for me… Ahaha… (to Kizō) Hey—split that money up!”

Kizō: “Boss—that’s madness!” “What do you think we abandoned our wives and families to follow you this far for?” “Everyone’s been fretting over your safety—all because we want to see you settled with our own eyes!”

Asatarō: “Damn right! Even if we smashed through the Ōto Checkpoint and Shinshū’s safe from here on out—you think we’d let you go off alone?” Kasuke: “True enough! But let’s face it—a pack of rowdy bastards like us can’t go clanking around chained together. Just point out which ones you want, Boss.” “No need for formalities between leader and men.” “This is your big moment.” “Not a single tight-fisted sonuvabitch here’d whine or hold grudges.” “Hey!” “Brothers!” The Group: “Damn right!” “Damn right!”

“Damn right.” “Damn right.” Chūji remained silent…….

Asatarō: “Hey! Why don’t you just come out and name who you want?” Chūji: (After a pause) “If I meant to name names, I wouldn’t have consulted you all.” “You’ve all staked your lives working for me.” “I won’t have discrimination spoken from my own lips.”

Kurōsuke: "That's only reasonable." "The Boss's words are most reasonable." "In a pinch like this, nobody'd feel good about being left behind." Asatarō: (To Kurōsuke) "It's exactly because of bastards like you that things get complicated." "Since old men are nothing but deadweight, why don't you do us all a favor and bow out here clean, Boss?" Kurōsuke: "What'd you say, you little shit? You're the greenhorn who's still useless! Step back and tell us you'll leave this job to proper men!"

“What did you say?”

Chūji: Hey! “Asa!” “You’re overstepping.” “Shut your mouth!” Asatarō: Yes. “Yes.” (Shaka no Jūzō suddenly shifts forward on his knees.)

“Hey Boss! I’ve got a good idea.” “What?” came two or three voices. “What?” “Let’s hear it.” “A lottery’d be best,” said Jūzō. “Everyone draws lots—whoever gets picked’ll accompany the Boss.”

Chūji: “I see.” *This method would leave no room for resentment.*

Kasuke: “What’re you saying, Boss? Listening to some greenhorn’s ideas won’t work! Even a lottery’s stupid. If the lot falls to a rookie like Jūzō, he’d be dead weight rather than proper backup! I want no part of this lottery nonsense! At times like these, strength’s what counts! Hey Boss! Quit with the pointless hesitation—just bark out ‘Kasuke, with me!’ and be done with it! Say it now!”

Kizō: “Don’t go spouting grand claims, you bastard. You can’t get by in the wider world on brute strength alone. And if we’re to wander through unknown lands proclaiming ourselves as Kunisada Chūji of Jōshū, we can’t make a move without a master strategist handling every negotiation. No matter how much of a big-eating ox you are, if you keep tripping over your own feet like this, you won’t earn us a damn meal on the road!”

Kurōsuke (who had been silent until now): "This endless yammering about muscle and schemes gets us nowhere." "When times turn dire, we follow sake cup seniority." "That's the proper way." "I'm the eldest by cup rites." "Yasuke here came next." "Hey! You!" (Looked toward Yasuke.) Asatarō: "The hell you spouting now, Gramps?" "This ain't some funeral cortege!" "You really think dragging fossils along'll help when blades come out?"

Kurōsuke: “You think I’d let you lot fret over that? This battered shell you see—I’m still Inari no Kurōsuke.” Asatarō’s glare had long since lost its bite. “Ease up, old man—no need to puff yourself like a bullfrog.”

Kurōsuke: “You bastard!” Kizō: “Stop fightin’ already!” Ushimatsu: “Boss—can’t I be your escort? I ain’t strong. And I ain’t no strategist like Kizō neither. But for your sake… I’d lay down my life in a heartbeat. Swear I’ve had that settled in my heart for ages now……”

Three or four voices: “What the hell are you on about?” “Throwing your life away for the Boss ain’t somethin’ only you’re doin’.” “You’re spoutin’ bullshit.” (Ushimatsu dejectedly scratched his head and fell silent.) Chūji: “If you all keep makin’ such a racket, this’ll never end.” “If you’re uneasy ’bout lettin’ me go alone, why not try holdin’ a lottery ’mong yourselves?” “Let’s take just three—startin’ from those with the most votes.” “This way, there’ll be no hard feelin’s—right?”

Kizō: “Now that’s a thought.” Asatarō: “That’s style.” Three or four voices: “Makes sense—brilliant plan.” Chūji: “Then let’s settle this by ballot.” Four or five voices: “Suits us.” “Done!” (Kichizō emerged carrying a large basket heaped with rice balls.) Kichizō: “Boss—the grub’s ready.” Chūji—the timing proved ideal. He’d have them all eat while pondering their choices. (Kichizō distributed portions to the men.)

Kichizō: “All right—two each for everyone. Three slices of takuan per man.” Everyone: “Thanks! Much obliged!” Kizō: “First warm meal we’ve had in ages.” Chūji (clutching a rice ball): “Need water.” Kichizō: “Stream ’bout half a chō upstream. Good drinking.”

Chūji: “I see. Then I’ll go have a drink and come back.” Kichizō: “No need to worry—it’s good water!” Three or four voices: “Then we’ll go too.” Asatarō: “I could use a wash too.” (Everyone noisily heads toward the stream. Only Kurōsuke and Yasuke remain behind) Kurōsuke (after finishing the rice ball with a grimace): “Ugh... No good. No good. No matter how I look at it—this lottery business is just no good!”

“Why’s that, Bro?” “With this lottery business—I ain’t making it into the three.” “You’re being too hard on yourself. It ain’t like you’re done for yet.” “When it comes to being Chūji’s right-hand man—that’s you through and through, ain’t it?” “On the surface, maybe.” “But ever since last year—when they had to drag me outta that scrap during our clash with Ōmaeda—I lost all standing.” “I know that clear as day.” “They might call me ‘Bro this, Bro that’ to my face—but deep down? They think I’m washed up.” “Don’t you dare let them go through with this vote!” “It’ll show up plain as daylight in the tally—you mark my words.”

Yasuke… Kurōsuke: “If I had to say why—even outta pure spite toward that Asatarō who keeps treatin’ me like some washed-up old man—I ain’t about to get left behind.”

“That’s reasonable,” said Yasuke. “But there ain’t no need to worry. You ain’t got no worry about being left out.”

Kurōsuke: “That ain’t it.” “Somethin’s fishy.” “I can’t think of a single soul who’d cast a vote my way.” Yasuke: “What ’bout Namikawa no Saisuke?” “That fella owes you big, don’t he?” Kurōsuke: “Bah—kids these days forget favors faster’n yesterday’s rain.” “Now he’s all ‘Bro Asa this, Bro Asa that,’ suckin’ up to that whelp like a stray pup.”

Yasuke…

“Here’s what I think,” said Kurōsuke. “Asa’s got four slips.” “Kizō has three slips.” “That leaves four slips—and outta those four, I’ll take two.” “That’s if you vote for me.”

(Kurōsuke stared fixedly at Yasuke’s face.)

Yasuke silently nodded… Kurōsuke: “If you vote for me… that leaves one more slip. “I’d give an arm to get this last vote, but…” Yasuke: “Don’t joke like that! “You don’t gotta get so fixated. Even Kizō might vote for you.”

Kurōsuke: “He’s been cozying up to me lately!” “Just one more.” “Ah—just one more slip.” (Kurōsuke crossed his arms firmly.)

(The people who went to drink water came clattering back.) Kizō: “I’ve already eaten fifteen or sixteen of those rice balls. Ugh!” Asatarō: “Even those were welcome to keep the hunger at bay for now.” “Alright—the meal’s finished.” “Let’s get this damn lottery started already.”

Kizō: “Understood.”

(He took out pocket paper from his breast pocket, drew his short sword, and cut it into several pieces.) He distributed one piece to each person.) Kizō: “There’s only one inkbrush. Please write your votes quickly and pass the brush along. Those who’ve written their votes—fold them up small and put ’em in this bamboo basket.” Chūji: “We’ll take the three with the most votes.”

Jūzō: “Yes, sir. Understood.” Kizō: “Jūzō, you start!” (He handed the brush to Jūzō.) Each of them borrowed the brush one after another and wrote. (Yasuke finished writing and approached Kurōsuke.)

“Here, Bro—the brush.”

(Yasuke grinned as agreed.) Kurōsuke: "Much obliged."

(Kurōsuke took the brush.) (A look of worldly anguish vividly surfaced on his face as he fell into deep thought.) Asatarō: “Hey, old man.” “Hurry up and pass the damn brush already.”

“What did you say?!”

Asatarō: "If you’re gonna think about it, pass the brush to someone else!" Kurōsuke: "Shut your trap! Don’t flap that useless mouth!"

(Kurōsuke indignantly slammed down the brush.) Saisuke: “Old man, give it here!” Kurōsuke: “Here.” (He flung the brush.)

(Saisuke caught it and went over to Yasuke.)

Saisuke: “Hey, Yasuke Bro! Teach me how to write it.”

“I’ll teach you!” “What character?”

Saisuke (whispered something near Yasuke’s ear)— Yasuke: “Alright, Bro—you write it like this.” (Using his fingertip, he wrote it out on the paper Saisuke held.)

“Got it,” said Saisuke. “Thanks.” (Everyone finishes writing one after another.)

Kizō: “Alright, has everyone written theirs? Anyone still left to write?” (He looked around.) “Good—all done.” “Boss, everyone’s written theirs.” Chūji: “I’ll read ’em out.” Kizō: “Right—settled.”

(Their eyes gleamed with tension, gazes fixed as if staring at ritual vessels, all trained on Kizō’s hands.)

Kizō (unfolding the folded paper slips): “Alright? Listen up, everyone. ‘Asa.’ This one’s only written ‘Asa’ in kana. But this has to be Asatarō! Asatarō gets one.” (shows the slip to everyone) “Huh, this one’s also Asatarō. Asatarō gets two!”

Chūji smiled approvingly, as if his plan had succeeded. Kizō unfolded a paper slip. “This one’s Kizō! How about that?” “No lie here!” “Kizō gets one!” “Well now—another Kizō! How generous!” “Everyone’s got sharp eyes after all.” “How about that!” “Kizō gets two!” Kizō held the paper slips triumphantly aloft. Kurōsuke finally showed signs of impatience.

Kizō: “Oh? What’s this?” “Completely… chicken scratch? What’s this?” “Kurōsuke? It’s Kurōsuke. Kurōsuke gets one.” (Kurōsuke panicked, thrown into violent turmoil.) Kizō: “Next is Asa.” “This makes three for Asatarō.” “Oh how generous—the next one’s yours truly again!” “Kizō gets three!” “Next up: Asatarō.” “Asatarō gets four.” “Oh, the next one’s yours truly again!” “Kizō gets four.” “That settles it—I’m in, and Asatarō’s a sure thing.” “Oh, the next one’s Kasuke.”

“Yes!” Kasuke exclaimed. “So now Asa and I have four slips each,” Kizō announced, “Kurōsuke and Kasuke with one slip apiece.” “It’s down to the two of them.”

Kasuke: “Just one left.” “Hold on—is it me goin’ or Kurōsuke?” Kurōsuke: “Me!” “There now—settled ain’t it, Yasuke?”

Yasuke remained silent, not answering... Kizō: "Alright! I'll open it! Which'll it be - odds or evens? Kurōsuke or Kasuke? Ah. ...It's Kasuke."

Kurōsuke: What? It’s Kasuke?

(Kurōsuke writhed in bitter frustration.)

Asatarō: After all, everyone’s honest. “Much obliged.” “So you’re all really thinking of the Oyabun’s sake after all.” “Thanks, everyone.” “I’ll give my thanks!” “We’ll take care of the Oyabun.” Saisuke: Well then, Brother Asa—I’m counting on you.

“Well then—it’s settled in your minds?” “Then I’ll take Asa, Kizō, and Kasuke with me.” “Kurōsuke’s got one vote here—I’d take you along, but I can’t go back on what I said at the start. You’ll have to bear with me.” “Well then—we’ve wasted enough time since earlier.” “Well then, everyone—divide up the money and go wherever you intend.”

Kizō (breaking open the fifty-ryō bundle): “Come on, everyone—take your share without holding back.” (Kizō distributed shares to the hesitant underlings.) “Brother Kurōsuke... What are you thinking? Reach out your hand already.” (Kurōsuke reluctantly extended his hand.) Chūji: “Well then, we’ll set out ahead. Everyone, be careful and go.”

“Oyabun, farewell,” they all said. “Take good care.” “Brother Asa—I’m counting on you,” said Saisuke. “Don’t you worry,” Asatarō replied. “Brother Kizō—I’m counting on you,” said Jūzō.

“Understood.” “The Leader’s well-being will be secure as long as we’re still breathing.”

(Chattering all at once and calling out to each other, the three retreated up the mountainside.)

Ushimatsu: “If Asa and them are taggin’ along，there ain’t no way this’ll go sideways.” Saisuke: “The Leader had his sights set on those three from jump—no doubt ’bout it.” Jūzō: “Ain’t no doubt at all.” “Long as we got them boys ridin’ shotgun，we’re golden.”

“Well then, I’ll be heading off to Kusatsu now.” “I’m heading to Kusatsu too.”

“I’ll head out to Kusatsu too.”

Ushimatsu: “Well then—let’s all set out together, the Kusatsu group.” “Brother Kurōsuke!” “Where’re you headed?”

Kurōsuke: I’ll take another half-hour to think. Ushimatsu: When it comes to thinking things through, the early bird gets the worm—I tell you. (The lottery papers, blown by the wind, began to scatter.)

Kurōsuke: “Damn it.” “If these stay behind, there’s no telling they won’t turn into cursed evidence.”

(Kurōsuke gathered them up and crumpled them into a ball in his palm.) Ushimatsu: “Well then, Brother Inari—farewell.” Kurōsuke: “Leaving already? Take care then.” Jūzō: “Brother Yasuke, farewell.” Yasuke: “Farewell.”

(Yasuke and the others exchanged farewells one after another, and the four turned back the way they had come.) Afterwards, only Kurōsuke and Yasuke remained. Kurōsuke’s face was deathly pale. (He sat silent, deep in thought.) Yasuke: “Hey, Brother! Which way you headed?” Kurōsuke: “Shut your trap! I’m thinkin’ here.” Yasuke: “I was set on headin’ from Kusatsu to Echigo myself, but turns out I got an uncle ’round Kumagaya way. Risky as that might be, it’d make a decent foothold for gettin’ home. So I’m makin’ for Bushū—what’s your play?”

Kurōsuke: (Remained silent and did not answer)… Yasuke: “You really hated the lottery, didn’t you?” “Fair enough—I’ve been against today’s lottery from the start.” “The Oyabun’s sure acting like an Oyabun!” “There’s no way he’d abandon you—someone he’s raised since you were brats scrapping in the dirt. Asa and Kasuke might have strong arms, but next to you? They’re just greenhorns.” “Also, even if we did hold a proper lottery, there’s no way those bastards would leave you out.” “When I think that out of eleven people, the only one who wrote your name was me—Yasuke—I just can’t fathom what’s in their hearts at all.”

Kurōsuke (furiously): “You bastard—did you really write this?” Yasuke: “Of course I wrote it! Who else but me would’ve written your name?” Kurōsuke: “Did you really write it?” Yasuke: “Of course I wrote it! Who else do you think would’ve written it besides me?”

“You lie, and I’ll cut you down.” “Proof over talk—your name came up once, didn’t it?” Kurōsuke (while hurriedly extracting one slip from the crumpled mass he’d gathered earlier): “You’re saying you wrote this? You’re the best writer among us—since when do you scrawl chicken scratch like this?” Yasuke: “Urgh…” (Flustered) Kurōsuke: “You’re saying you wrote *this*?”

“Brother, forgive me!” “Brother, I was wrong!” “Cut down this liar that I am!”

Kurōsuke reached for his short sword but immediately reconsidered. “Let it go,” he said. Even you—the one he’d thought was his only ally—had already written him off as a coward in your heart. Even if he cut you down, it’d be pointless. “But that’s strange,” said Yasuke. “If I didn’t write it, then who did?” Yasuke gazed at the paper scrap. Kurōsuke hurriedly crumpled it.

Yasuke: “Who wrote it?” (Suddenly realizing) “Brother—you wouldn’t pull some cheap trick like writing your own name, would you?”

Kurōsuke: W-what... are you saying? (Suddenly breaking down in tears) “Yasuke, forgive me!” “Strike down this spineless coward in the Oyabun’s stead!”

(Kurōsuke suddenly burst into loud sobs.)

―Curtain―