Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

The two renowned swords Enju Kunizane and Kongō Hyōe Moritaka, which feature prominently in this tale, remain extant today as treasured possessions of Mr. Sugiyama Kijitsuan, a Tokyo-based sword enthusiast.
Therefore, this story dramatizes actual events that occurred in Kuroda Domain, but as there are complications regarding personal names, place names, and the era, it has been rendered as fiction.
I humbly ask for your kind understanding and forgiveness.

“Impudent wretch… Confiscate Yakyūrō wretch’s stipend immediately and exile him!”
“Order him to become Satsuma’s retainer and cast him out from the borderlands.”
“Do you understand?”
“I have given the command!”

On the broad veranda of the inner garden where several large cherry trees were splendidly blooming out of season, Kuroda Tadayuki, lord of Chikuzen Domain, sat wearing his tanzen robe and garden clogs. He glared at the salt-and-pepper head of Chief Inspector Bitō Naiki, who lay prostrate far down the same veranda. He appeared to be about to take the concubines out for a walk.

Bitō Naiki in formal kamishimo attire, his naturally long face deathly pale, gazed up at the color in Tadayuki’s eyes. And then he pressed his head even lower toward the plank flooring than before.

“Ha ha… Your will is as you say… Yet to contradict your words would be most presumptuous… I most humbly beseech you to show special mercy and overlook this matter… For I fear how it might sound to Satsuma Domain…”

“What… How dare…”

Tadayuki’s fists quivered violently atop the yellow Hakama silk stretched across his knees. The concubines standing in the garden area exchanged startled glances. When Tadayuki flew into one of his rages, he would afterward be unable to unclench his own fists, forcing the womenfolk to knead his fingers pliant to make them release. For they had sensed that such a violent fit of temper was now beginning to flare up.

“Y-You damned fool—! What has Satsuma done? To lavish honors and publicly bestow rewards upon a warrior from another domain without so much as a by-your-leave… It’s tantamount to trampling upon me! Depending on circumstances, parade that Yakyūrō wretch to the Higo-Satsuma borderlands and cut him down. Take that edict and post it as an official notice! Then go display his severed head there! Any scoundrel who brazenly pockets rewards from other domain lords is no different than a rebel or traitor! In the days of Tenki and Tenshō, it was the same as now. Do you understand?”

“Ha ha… Each and every point is most reasonable…”

“Lord Higo would not scheme ill intentions either. Given that we are like dogs and monkeys with Satsuma Domain... handle it immediately...”

“Ha ha… Exile… We shall carry out the exile. Exile… What a most fortunate blessing…”

“Right.
“I will not permit even seppuku for that Hanashiro Yakyūrō wretch.
“Should he somehow disembowel himself, that failure would be yours.
“The impudent cur!
“A blight upon Kuroda’s warriors!
“Execute my command without fail—make this an example for all time!
“Do you comprehend? …Rise!”

Tadayuki, who had inherited much Sengoku warrior blood through his veins, stamped his garden clogs against the Kayaseki shoe-removal stone, stoking his fury higher. A resolve that might well erupt into open conflict with Satsuma Domain burned in the sharply upturned corners of his eyes. Chief Concubine O-Hide and five or six attendants stood rigid in the garden, breath trapped in their throats.

At that instant, a mountain gale roared down from the main keep, scattering snow-white rebloomed cherry blossoms across every corner of the garden grounds. An unspeakable bloodlust saturated the air.

Bitō Naiki, the Chief Inspector who knew his lord’s temperament thoroughly—that the more one tried to placate him, the fiercer his tone would grow—hurriedly retreated. With steps that seemed poised to leave the castle at once, he exited the chamber—but as he approached the main hall along the long corridor outside, his pace gradually slackened until he hung his head and crossed both arms. With the bearing of one lost in contemplation, he shuffled to the space between the folding screens.

“What brings you here?”
“Chief Inspector…”

The elderly treasury official named Fuchi Kaneemon emerged from behind the large folding screen as though he had been waiting impatiently.

"Oh. Venerable sir..."

Naiki raised his face as if sighting a rescue vessel.
He let out a relieved sigh.

“Ah, perfect timing… Might I trouble you to step this way… There’s a small matter I wish to discuss privately.”
“A rather delicate matter…”

“What do you mean by ‘private discussion’…”

“I wish to borrow your venerable wisdom.”

“This is most formal… Your lordship’s discernment being foremost in the castle… Ha ha… This is no mere flattery.”
“Moreover, such surpassing wisdom is far beyond this old man… Ha ha…”

“Speak your mind.”
“Hey, monk… Bring tea…”

The two men turned to face each other in the tatami corridor leading to the night duty room.
The clamor of shrikes crisscrossed within the castle grounds to such an extent.

Two monks came bringing zabuton cushions and green tea.
Fuchi Kaneemon thrust his fan against his knee.

"So what is this about?"

Bitō Naiki crossed his arms once more.

"This does not concern me."
"As you well know - Hanashiro Yakyūrō Masaki, isn't that so?"

“Ha ha… That Satsuma-worshipping…”

“Shh… That’s the matter.”
“That arrogant wretch, during his tenure as magistrate of Munakata Ōshima in the summer before last, aided a distressed ship from Satsuma Domain bound for Korea—not only had them repair their vessel but also lavishly nursed the sick before sending them back… Hmm…”

“Indeed, indeed.”
“To tell the truth, that ship was engaged in forbidden trade with Russia—openly assisting it would stir up a hornet’s nest...”

“There it is.”
“And so as gratitude—this past spring, Satsuma secretly sent a ship to the Hanashiro residence on Ōshima, where emissaries personally bestowed upon Hanashiro Yakyūrō considerable gold and silver, a masterwork sword inscribed ‘Nation-Sustaining Longevity,’ and lavish items like Satsuma pottery bearing their crest and cut-glass tea utensils... You’re aware of this?”

“Are you unaware?”
“Yakyūrō’s been boasting of it so wildly his very mind seems unhinged—this I know.”
“With those Satsuma coins, he built an extravagant tea room deep in his Hasuike home, took courtesan sisters called O-Yashiro and Shichiyo—posing them as daughters from his fief—as concubines to seclude himself with them, and even during the Iris Festival claimed illness to avoid attending to His Lordship’s mood.”
“His horsemanship pupils scattered into utter disarray.”
“Worse still, to all he meets he crows, ‘Satsuma is a great domain!’”
“‘This is no ordinary matter! No ordinary matter at all!’ he proclaims, flaunting those cut-glass bowls, that Longevity sword, and his sister concubines—until everyone turns away in disgust.”
“Some hotheaded junior retainers even bluster about ‘cutting down such a domain-shame!’ But whatever their bluster—though white-haired now, Yakyūrō remains an Ittō-ryū master—so they all hesitate... or so the talk goes.”

“Hmm.”
“You are well-informed indeed.”
“I did not know Hanashiro was such a wretch.”
“That he kept courtesans as concubines and that the resolve of the young men in the household was so intense—I never even dreamed…”

“Ahahaha.”
“Such intrusive inquiries would never reach the Chief Inspector’s ears... And today’s summons concerns precisely that matter...”

“That is precisely the matter at hand.”
“This is a matter confined to one’s station, but…”

“Understood.”
“I won’t handle matters beyond Hachiman-guchi.”

“This is most gracious.”
“I presume word has reached your ears through rumors from the women in His Lordship’s inner circle, but His Lordship declares: ‘The Satsuma Domain offered not a single word of acknowledgment to me, yet dared bestow rewards directly upon a Kuroda retainer—this Shimazu insolence disregards this Tadayuki entirely!’”
“Furthermore, that Hanashiro wretch accepted rewards from another domain without even obtaining my permission—such insolence knows no bounds!”
“He is an utterly unsatisfactory wretch.”
“To leave this unaddressed would set no example for our domain.”
“Confiscate his stipend and exile him.”
“He will not even permit seppuku… a most severe edict, but…”

“That edict of His Lordship’s—if I may say with all due respect—is indeed proper.”
“Even if I were to argue otherwise, His Lordship remains a wise ruler indeed.”
“An admirable decree… Beyond reproach…”

Bitō Naiki was dumbfounded.
His long face grew even longer.
He stared at Fuchi Kaneemon’s obstinate face—unyielding even if struck with a stonecutter’s hammer.

II

“……What is this… If even you, Venerable Sir, are of that mind, this humble official has no ground to stand on.”
"The Hanashiro Yakyūrō household holds a three hundred fifty koku stipend—modest for a mounted guard, it’s true—but ever since his late father Yagobei-no-jō earned renown for imperial horsemanship, they have served as our domain’s equestrian instructors, granted the ceremonial honor of tachi origami. A distinguished lineage of Ōkumi-gakari rank."
“If we were to destroy them, relatives and kin would surely raise an uproar.”

“Nonsense. Letting them stir up a great commotion would be most proper.”
“On the contrary, it shall serve as a deterrent.”

“What is this?”
“His Lordship’s will lies precisely there.”

“Precisely.”
“Admirable edict… Our lord is a wise ruler indeed.”

The old man’s chest slumped in relief.
“Have Yakyūrō exiled at once.”

“Now, now. That matter cannot be settled so simply.”
“The exile of the Yakyūrō wretch will also serve as an affront to Satsuma Domain.”

“Well now, isn’t this amusing? When peace persists as it has these days, naturally the treasury’s calculations struggle to hold. In the midst of this chaos, we must seize twenty or thirty thousand koku from somewhere—otherwise, the castle’s horse provisions will fall short. If our warriors earn merits yet receive no stipend increases, the fighting spirit of this domain’s retainers will rot away entirely. The driving force behind martial diligence has vanished. His Lordship’s temper only intensifies… Crushing them would be splendid. Armed conflicts would be splendid indeed… Should we make Hanashiro Yakyūrō our scapegoat and expose Satsuma’s Russia trade, why—that would target the Shimazu’s million-koku domain, already under scrutiny since Sekigahara. Who knows if this might spark an upheaval that could overturn all of Kyushu? If that comes to pass, the task of crushing Satsuma would fall to Higo, and Higo’s reinforcements would be Chikuzen. His Lordship’s true intentions undoubtedly lie precisely there. Whichever way it falls, there’s no loss for us… This old man’s calculations are a survivor of Bunroku and Keichō. Tch… Might be a bit rough-handed… Hah hah…”

Bitō Naiki lowered his head with bitter resignation. He muttered with a sigh, as if to himself.

“If that were to proceed so smoothly, it would be most amusing, wouldn’t it? There is one rather troublesome matter…”

“Hmm. Is Hanashiro Yakyūrō perhaps connected to you, Chief Inspector? If my words overstep, I beg your pardon.”

“No, no! If there were any connection, it would be all the more imperative for me to handle it strictly given my position, but…”

“Utterly shameful… Then, is there some official matter…?”

“Well then… That’s it.”
“First, lend me your ear.”
“Well… This is not another request for treasury funds, but you must already be aware that my recent official expenses have been most unusual…”

“I cannot begin to comprehend it.”
“I find this utterly suspect.”

“Your suspicions are warranted… In truth, spies from Edo have been slipping in intermittently.”

“What?! Have they already arrived?”

“Shh… This bears a black seal (top secret). …It seems reports of His Lordship’s disposition have reached the shogunate in grossly exaggerated form.”
“Recently, shogunate agents infiltrated disguised as Osaka beggar-puppeteers, Edo sweets peddlers crying ‘Yoka-yoka,’ and Echigo-accented mosquito net sellers.”
“They say informants are probing the castle’s affairs…”
“We too have set watchers upon them without delay.”
“When necessary, we’ve prepared to drown every last one in Ōhori Moat without exception… Not an ounce of negligence can be permitted.”
“Should they judge a lord as wise or valiant—even collateral branches—they crush them without hesitation; such appears the shogunate’s policy since the third reign.”
“Though truth be told, since Lord Taikō’s time Satsuma has sealed itself tight as a turban shell’s operculum within impregnable terrain where none may lay finger—thus even Tokugawa likely abandoned subduing them.”
“…Hence in Kyushu, those most imperiled would be Kuroda and Hosokawa of Kumamoto… or so Lords Bingo of Kuriyama and Mimasaka of Kuroda informed us.”
“At such a time, crushing Hanashiro Yakyūrō with these accusations and provoking Satsuma might instead ignite flames in our own hands.”
“Who knows what distorted rumors might take wing, or what ill-judged edicts might descend from Edo?”
“That would inflame His Lordship’s temper.”
“Should our domain defy the shogunate’s decree, that defiance itself becomes their pretext.”
“The precedents of Lord Echizen Sesshō and Lord Suruga Dainagon remain fresh.”
“A thousand-yard levee crumbles from an ant’s burrow… This concerns not others’ affairs alone, I tell you.”

“This humble official’s labors are one such instance.”

“Hmm.”
“Indeed it is.”

Even Fuchi Kaneemon crossed his arms and sank into deep thought.
He sighed deeply, like green vegetables wilted under salt.

“I see. I hadn’t noticed that far... But has His Lordship taken notice of such matters?”

“You may not be aware, but informing you would amount to the same thing.”

“Hohoho. And why, pray tell…”

“What could possibly be strange about me disposing of my own retainers? ...Do not dare lump Kuroda Tadayuki in the same category as those cowering turtle-like daimyōs from other domains who shrink their necks to preserve their own lives... Should they dare make such intrusive accusations, then the daimyōs guarding Kyushu against Ming, Korea, and Satsuma will seek exemption from us directly. Even should they learn from the fates of Ryūzōji and Ōtomo, it is certain that I shall declare my intent to take on the might of the realm and engage in battle. Fundamentally, that very thing lurks at the root of my lordly discontent. Whether this noble aspiration for martial prowess can be sustained throughout my reign—or cannot—marks the fork in our domain’s destiny…”

“Outrageous… Should such a thing come to pass, it would spell catastrophe.”
“Hmm.”
“What in the world are we to do?”

“That is precisely why I have been inquiring since earlier.”
“Have you no wise counsel to offer?”

“There is none.”

Fuchi the Elder briskly shook his head.

“There’s nothing for it but to request mediation from your favored Lord Kurahachi (Jūdayū), I suppose.”

Naiki closed one eye and smirked while slowly shaking his head from side to side.
The old man also smirked coldly and scratched his head.

Both Kurahachi Jūdayū and Lady O-Hide—the two who knew full well they could never defy their lord’s will—now exchanged wide-eyed nods as if realizing this for the first time.

A faint sigh darkened their faces.
The voices of shrikes within the castle reached a fever pitch for a time.

“Within this 550,000-koku domain, there exists no wellspring of wisdom greater than this.”

“The likes of us being treasury officials… It’s no wonder.”

“The current Hanashiro Yakyūrō was in retirement.”

Bitō Naiki abruptly changed the subject.

“Indeed, indeed. He was adopted from Tōrimachi’s Nishimura family and now lives in retirement, but his son Yojūrō and daughter-in-law both met untimely ends. At present, his grandson Yoichi—just thirteen or fourteen—has assumed the family headship.”
“The command, needless to say, remains in Grandfather Yakyūrō’s grasp, but the grandson Yoichi—though small in stature—has shown quite remarkable ingenuity. He completed recitations of the Four Books and Five Classics at eight years old, and achieved license-worthy mastery in Ōtsubo-ryū horsemanship and Yōshin-ryū iaijutsu… It is rumored Grandfather Yakyūrō boasts of this prodigiously.”

“Hmm.”
“What a regrettable affair.”
“Among those maternal relatives of Yakyūrō’s from the Nishimura family—is there none who might admonish his misconduct?”

“The Nishimura family belongs to the senior retainer band with 1,200 koku, but they’re all good-natured souls through and through.”
“Their hands are reputed for skilled writing, but...”

“Hahaha.”
“Samurai have no need for letters, I tell you.”
“In such circumstances…”

“It is precisely that matter.”
“However, should Yakyūrō amend his misconduct, might there exist some stratagem to salvage him?”
“To the Chief Inspector…”

“Indeed. If Yakyūrō were to drive out his concubines and conduct himself with such prudence that he becomes unrecognizable, it might provide a means to restore his honorable standing… But given His Lordship’s current haste in disposition, I fear…”

“That being the case… The difficulties of your office—I can well imagine them.”

“I humbly report.”
“Ah—I humbly report.”

The tea attendant hurriedly pressed his hands to the floor before them. His eyes had gone perfectly round and pale.

“A decree from His Lordship,” he announced. “You’re to ascertain whether Lord Bitō has already taken his leave…”

The two men exchanged bitter expressions.

“Hmm.”
“You relayed that well.”
“I’ll have you rewarded for this.”
“Clever lad.”

Even as he spoke these words, Bitō Naiki rose in haste.

“Um… What should I report?”

“Hmm. Report that I departed earlier.”

“Understood.”

The tea attendant clattered away, disappearing into the depths of the great hall.

“...This is how matters stand.”
“His Lordship’s impetuousness leaves me at my wits’ end.”
“I must go carry out the punishment immediately, lest it displease His Lordship.”

“Will Your Excellency the Chief Inspector personally deliver the pronouncement to Yakyūrō?”

“Nay. First, we shall inform his maternal relatives—the Nishimura family—of this matter and have them admonish him. Should they fail to sway him when exile is pronounced, even someone like Yakyūrō would surely shrink back. It is my intent to lay out all matters once that foundation stands firm... I may be reprimanded for excessive leniency, but ultimately, this requires resolve. Hahaha.”

“Your Excellency’s mercy… The entire household must surely be deeply moved.”
“Though even Yakyūrō—who fails to grasp those noble intentions—could not be so base…”

The elderly Fuchi blinked rapidly.

“Nay.
Though we speak of an era of great peace, we must not let our guard down, I tell you.
In the end, it is for the domain’s stability.”

Bitō Naiki seemed to have finally steeled his resolve. Leaving behind a remark truly befitting a man of his caliber, he strode briskly out to the main entrance.

“Chief Inspector… You may take your leave…”

“You there…! Sneaking about…!”

And Bitō Naiki, flustered, glared at the tea attendant.

Foot soldiers, informers, sandal bearers, spear bearers, and official box bearers came running in disarray and prostrated themselves on the reception platform.

III

“Ah hahaha!”
“Amusing, amusing!”

Hanashiro Yakyūrō Masaki, reeking of alcohol, erupted with brazen laughter at the heart of the twenty-mat chamber. This marked the Hanashiro clan's unified family council—summoned through the Chief Inspector's confidential decree—held in the main hall of a 1,200-koku estate known as Ōnishi Village in Tōrimachi.

“Hah! ‘Reform my conduct or face exile’—is that His Lordship’s decree? I received rewards from Satsuma Domain—does that displease His Lordship? How amusing… Let us depart. …The Kuroda lords have been a narrow-minded lineage since Lord Josui’s time. It is the custom that honorable warriors do not linger. There is also the precedent of Matabei Mototsugu. Let us depart. I’ve no attachment to some three hundred or five hundred koku stipend! Ah hah hah hah!...”

On Yakyūrō Masaki’s crimson-flushed forehead—still roaring in fury—blue veins rose like dragons, coursing into his white temples. In his left hand gleamed the Ensju Kunishige longsword bestowed by Satsuma… With his right hand, he maintained an iron grip on the wrist of his beloved grandson Yoichi Masazumi, sitting defiantly with one knee raised high.

The assembled members of both the Nishimura and Hanashiro families had all turned pale.
The mere thought that there was not even one chance in ten thousand their having silently let such outbursts go unchallenged might reach Lord Tadayuki's ears—and of what terrible punishment might then befall them—left them appearing to exist without even the will to breathe.

“Amusing.
“Let me state one thing clearly—this one is no degenerate samurai who idly wallows in debauchery!
“For the honor of horsemanship, I took charge of Ōshima’s horse pasture.
“Merely because I wanted to import fine stallions from Satsuma, I engaged in direct dealings with the Shimazu house.
“If the Shimazu daimyo and a retainer of Kuroda were to engage in equal dealings, it would indeed be an honor for the Kuroda domain.
“Hah! Does this domain have even one other warrior of such caliber?
“Is this something to be praised? That His Lordship would censure me instead—how utterly outrageous!
“And that Chief Inspector—what of him? To accept this censure without even attempting to remonstrate! Now there’s a proper Chief Inspector for you!
“It appears there are none in this domain with martial aspirations.
“Even if cast aside, there’s no lingering attachment—shall I declare it thus?
“The clan’s admonishments—Masaki cannot accept them!
“Hah! Hah! Hah!...”

“………”

“The Hanashiro family’s honor in imperial horsemanship must surely have reached even Satsuma Domain.”
“Myself and my grandson’s stipends shall not be found wanting.”
“Satsuma Domain is a great domain, you see.”
“Three hundred or five hundred koku—I wouldn’t even call it a favor!”
“Ha ha ha!”
“The Ōtsubo-ryū school’s horsemanship would vanish from this domain as well—Hah! Hah! Hah!”
“Yoichi… Let us go to Satsuma.”
“Satsuma Domain is the true home of horses.”
“They’re all magnificent steeds there, you see.”
“Let’s go riding… you see.”
“If we saddle the bay and dapple-gray horses at home with that gold-trimmed saddle you favor and make a dash, no pursuers from this domain could keep pace.”
“By this time day after tomorrow, we’ll have crossed Santarō Pass… Come… Let’s go… Won’t you rise?... You there, Yoichi… I’m telling you to stand…”

While being hauled up by the six-shaku-tall Yakyūrō, his grandson Yoichi made no attempt to rise.
He pressed his crested sleeve against his face, hitching it up with muffled sobs.

“Well… You’re crying.”
“Hah.”
“Is leaving Fukuoka truly that painful for you?”
“Hmph.”
“A child indeed.”
“Even if you’ve finished reciting the Four Books and Five Classics, it seems you still don’t understand a warrior’s pride.”
“Hah.”

“……………”

“...You there... This is your grandfather’s command.”
“Won’t you rise?”
“Won’t you bid farewell to your honored uncles and aunts?”
“Won’t you take your leave in this life?”
“Should this entanglement sever ties between Kuroda and Satsuma, we might cross blades on the battlefield—why not offer your greetings now? Hah! Hah! Hah!”
“Up now, up...”
“Hup... On your feet...!”

Hauled upright by the powerfully built Masaki, Yoichi collapsed sideways while bracing himself with one hand.
He glared up at his grandfather’s face through tear-bright eyes before biting his lip hard enough to blanch it, then jerked upright and violently twisted free from the older man’s grip.
He surged to his feet and clattered down from the veranda into the garden.
The crested kimono with padded shoulders, Kokura riding hakama, and small white tabi vanished into the sasanqua thicket.

“Hey!”
“Yoichi! Where are you going?”

By the time his grandfather Masaki came running out onto the veranda, Yoichi had already dashed barefoot in his tabi socks into the stable at the rear of the Nishimura residence.

"Oh, young master... Be careful!"

As the stablehands tried to grab hold of him,

“Hngh…!”

With a single strike—a punch to the solar plexus far too sharp for a boy of thirteen or fourteen—the burly stablehand let out an “Ugh…!” and landed hard on his backside. Seizing the moment, he snatched the reins hanging above the straw cutter, ducked under the stable bar, and while firmly restraining the startled chestnut horse, slipped the bit into its mouth with blinding speed. Removing the stable bar, he nimbly leapt onto the bareback horse and, ducking his head while keeping the reins short, exited the stable with a clatter of hooves. He clattered out from the rear garden through the side alley to the front entrance, and no sooner had he entered the thoroughfare than he made a sharp turn to the left,

“Hyaaah—!”

With that child’s voice ringing high, the sound of hooves had already faded into silence.

IV

South of the castle, across the deep, wide lotus moat that separated Oimawari Gate and the great forest enveloping Shiomi Turret from the riding grounds, lotus pond, Rokuhonmatsu pines, and Daitaisan foothills—the entire area faced one another under a blue sky as haze trees, maples, and autumn foliage vied in brilliance.

In the shadow of the mountain by that Lotus Pond.

In the inner garden of Hanashiro Yakyūrō’s residence, near a pond filled to the brim with sunken autumn leaves, stood a detached tea room encircled by oaks and red pines—its Hiroshima-style Nokogaya thatching, woven cedar ceiling, bamboo-tiled veranda, and tea ceremony water basin forming a collection that would astonish even seasoned aesthetes. The bronze hanging lantern and Takatori-ware hand-washing basin arranged throughout completed this extravagance… A refinement far exceeding what befitted a mounted retainer of mere 350-koku standing.

The yellow evening sun shone peacefully across the western thin-lattice shutters in full. Beside the ebony-edged hearth inside those tightly closed shoji screens, spread with a Nagasaki rug patterned in birds and flowers, two young women sat with their white, plump legs stretched out at length, licking figs heaped in a cut-glass bowl. Both had let their noblewoman-style long hairpins collapse diagonally askew, the collars of their scarlet damask underkimonos slackly undone to reveal pale exposure beneath their breasts. From the very beginning, they had been yawning repeatedly and moving their mouths with evident reluctance. In the dim ten-mat room at the rear, bedding from the previous night lay tangled and piled in disarray, while across from it upon the fully opened four-shaku veranda, lamps, tea utensils, cups and dishes were strewn about in chaotic abandon.

“I… have such an uneasy feeling.”

The elder O-Yashiro sat up timidly and pressed a palm beneath exposed breasts.
She would be twenty-two or twenty-three.
Her rounded jaw still bore traces of collar makeup, her lips crimson as if chapped.

"It’s warm today, isn’t it."

Shichiyo, the younger sister, remained lying on her back at full length and turned to look.
She would be eighteen or nineteen.
Her features were sharp and well-defined, her figure plump.

“No. It’s because I just now heard a galloping horse from Ryōshō’s direction…”

“It must be some young lord’s training horse.”

“No. I just can’t stop worrying about today’s visit.”

“Hoho. Honestly, Sister. What’s the use fretting? …It’s probably just some relatives’ gathering to drive us out… Hoho…”

“You truly are a strong-willed one…”

“……It’s not our concern. But if things get too troublesome, His Lordship said he’d take us and retreat to Satsuma, didn’t he?”

“I wonder if that’s truly the case, Shichiyo.”

“If we’re talking about His Lordship’s temper—I know full well.”
“What he said can’t be taken back now, didn’t he?”

“His Lordship will take Young Master along too, won’t he?”
“When that time comes… I wonder…”

“Ohoho.”
“Sister, no matter what—whether it’s this or that—it’s always about the Young Master…”

“Don’t laugh.
“When I think about what will become of us...”
“Just once’d be enough—I’d like to hold that sweet Young Master tight and sleep with him proper, I tell you.”
“Thinking that just makes my heart race something fierce, I tell you.”

“Hohohohohohoho.”
“Your lewdness.”
“He’s still only fourteen, isn’t he?”
“As for Young Master Yoichi…”

“No.”
“It’s not romantic feelings, I tell you.”
“I tell you—I genuinely find Yoichi so utterly adorable…”

“Ohohohoho.”
“Funny, funny!”
“Hahahaha…”

“Go ahead and laugh.”
“It might be romantic feelings after all.”
“When ya keep tendin’ to old folks all day long, ya start yearnin’ for someone young.”
“Even a child’d do.”
“Hey, Shichiyo.”
“Hohoho…”

“Hohohoho.”
“Hahahaha.”
“Hahahahaha.”

On the lattice-patterned shoji screen directly facing the two women who were laughing carelessly, a small human figure silently cast its shadow.
It was the figure of Yoichi with his forelock hairstyle, holding a wakizashi.

“Oh my! Young Master Yoichi. Speak of the devil...”

As Shichiyo’s cheeks flushed crimson and she rose up, she slid open the lattice-patterned shoji screen.
There stood Hanashiro Yoichi Masazumi, his sidelocks and forelock wildly disheveled, gripping the crotch strap of his hakama as he stood rigidly poised.
He clutched the Hanashiro family heirloom—a one shaku four sun dagger with silver fittings by Kongōbyōe Moritaka—his muddy tabi still clinging to his feet as he stared blankly into space.

“Huh. Young Master Yoichi. What’s come over you?”

O-Yashiro rushed over in disarray, but in that split second—

“Aunties… Forgive me…”

As Yoichi’s shout rang out, a pale icy arc flashed through the blinding western sunlight.
Into O-Yashiro’s bare, rounded right shoulder he struck an ambush blow with full force.
Blood spray scattered across the entire shoji screen, and pearlescent droplets of milk oozed thickly within a crimson net.

“Agh—!”

O-Yashiro wrenched out a death scream from her bowels’ depths.
Just like that—

“...Young Master Yoichi—Ah—”

As she tried to cling to his chest, Yoichi stepped back and plunged a single thrust into her.

“Y... Young Master Yoichi—Aaaaaah...”

O-Yashiro, now breathing her last, collapsed heavily onto her back.

Shichiyo, however, did not utter a sound.
Whirling around, she ran into the room where bedding lay heaped like storm-tossed waves.
She hurled high pillows and tied pillows at Yoichi one after another.
She threw the tissue paper by the bedside.
She smashed the celadon incense burner in the tokonoma alcove.
She hurled out the cut-glass tea utensils along with their silver tray.
She brandished a Kutani sake warmer.
She smashed plates, bowls, cup rinsers, and cat-footed trays one after another with whatever she could lay her hands on.

Yoichi dodged left and right, thrusting his bloodied sword.

“Young Master Yoichi.”
“Mercy… Have mercy… I… I don’t know…”
“I don’t know.”
“I don’t know anything.”
“Sister’s fault! Sister’s fault!”

“Damn you… You fiend…”

Yoichi gasped for breath.

“You think I’ll let you escape…?”

“Someone! Help!”
“Someone! Help!”
“Young Master Yoichi’s gone mad… Madnesssss…”

“Damn you… Speak… Damn you…”

Yoichi—who had pounced on Shichiyo’s disheveled hair like a swooping falcon as she fled from the eastern veranda—was now dragged unsteadily across stepping stones.
Before he could adjust his grip on Kongōbyōe, they reached the garden pond’s edge.
Shichiyo collapsed heavily onto a low stone bridge, her feet entangled in her half-undone obi and trailing underrobe.
Yoichi wrapped her loosened hair around his left hand and violently yanked up the desperately crouching white nape—

“Hngh... Hngh...”

He began slashing wildly with one hand.
Shichiyo kept both hands thrust into the garden pond and with each slash wrenched out abhorrent death screams.

V

Yoichi thrust the two female heads into the garden pond and washed them.
He wrapped them in the sleeves of his underrobe and cradled one under each arm.
Barefoot in crimson tabi, he exited the detached guest room, noticing from the corner of his eye the young retainer Yuuhachi collapsed among the shrubs, then still barefoot, calmly ascended to the Buddhist altar room beside the entrance and arranged the two severed heads on either side of the low memorial tablet shelf.
The female heads with red sleeves draped over their cheeks looked as though they were presenting strange, oversized blossoms.

Yoichi took off the soiled tabi there and threw them into the bushes.
Then he fetched a kitchen rag and wiped clean the trail of blood and mud footprints leading from the veranda to the Buddhist altar room.
He went to the water shelf, thoroughly washed his face and hands in the storage bucket, and wiped them dry with a cloth.
Then he drank water vigorously and started toward the entrance, but as if remembering something, turned back to the Buddhist altar room and offered stick after stick of incense.

The metallic stench of blood and the sweet fragrance of incense filled the dim room to suffocating density.
Yoichi, who had sat down amidst it, clasped his hands together with great care.

“Open up, open up... Is no one here...?”

When the sound of violent knocking came from the front door, Yoichi sharply rose to his feet.
He snapped shut the broken shoji panel of the altar and dashed out to the entrance.
Stomping into whatever bamboo-sheathed sandals were available and stepping out, he unbolted the front gate while calling out in a booming voice to the Nishimura family’s red horse tied to the post beside the reception platform, which was pawing the ground.
Outside stood Hanashiro Yakyūrō Masaki in crested formal attire, tachi in hand, wiping sweat.

“Oh, Yoichi.”
“Closing the gate in broad daylight… Don’t panic, Yoichi… Ah! You’ve cut something down…”

With both bare hands gripping tight,Yoichi seized his grandfather’s wrist—the old man stood wide-eyed,sweeping gaze upward then downward across bloodstained stepping stones.

“What’s this… What’s happened here…”

Yoichi guided Masaki, who was urgently questioning him, straight from the entrance to the Buddhist altar room.
Swiftly sliding open the shoji doors of the Buddhist altar to both sides and pointing at the two severed heads, he looked up piercingly at his grandfather’s face.

“Urgh—”
“This is—”

Masaki, his eyes raised to slits, let Enju Kunisuke’s greatsword clatter from his left hand onto the tatami.
He thudded down before the Buddhist altar, assuming a formal seated position and thrusting both hands forward.
Heaving breaths through his shoulders, he glanced back at Yoichi.

“Did… Did I… cut them down… Yoichi…?”

Yoichi, plastered against his side while sitting there, casually gave a single nod.
He stared at Masaki’s face while biting his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Masaki's face turned deathly pale.
In an instant, it flared crimson.
And then rapidly turned ghostly blue.

“Grandfather... Please perform the cut.”

Yoichi stiffened his small hands on the blood-soaked horseback-riding hakama.

“So it’s you… bastard…”

Masaki’s countenance transformed with fiery intensity.
Still seated, he pulled Enju Kunisuke’s greatsword closer and made his entire body quake like a wrathful demon.

Yoichi slid back about a foot in a flash.
Remaining in his iai stance，he partially drew Kongōbyōe from its scabbard.
He declared resolutely.
“My lord… is Lord Tadayuki!”

“Wh... Wh... What?!”

“Those who oppose my lord are my enemies... Be they parents or siblings... Even you, Grandfather... I will never forgive!”

“Damn you... These clever phrases... Who taught you this?!”

“Father… and Mother… They said those very words… stroked my head… and passed away…”

Yoichi's voice turned flustered.
Both eyes became filled to the brim with tears.
With a clatter, he threw down Kongōbyōe and clung to Masaki’s right arm.

“Please... cut me down.”
“Please cut me down.”
“And then... please go to Satsuma Domain.”
“Please... Grandfather...”

“...Ugh... Ugh...”

Masaki’s lips quivered like a dead leaf.
Tears trickled down the wrinkles on both cheeks.
With his hand on the tachi’s hilt, he writhed as if crushed between great boulders.

“Enough!”
“Let go!... These hands of yours…”
“……Yes…”

Yoichi obediently released his grip and stepped back.
He thrust both hands forward as if prepared to be cut down and hung his head.

“Moreover... Moreover... Grandfather is an adopted heir—originally from the Nishimura family—so you must not destroy this house through your sole judgment.”
“You must not bring shame upon the honorable ancestors of this house.”
“If it must be destroyed, then Yoichi will be the one to destroy it.”
“...Yoichi truly inherits the blood of this house through Grandmother’s line...”

“Hmm. Did Father and Mother drill those words into you too?”

Masaki quietly set Enju Kunisuke beside him, wiped his tears, and sat upright again. Narrowing his eyes in his customary manner, he looked his grandson up and down with rapt admiration. Yoichi kept his face pressed to the floor while violently shaking his head from side to side.

“Yoichi heard these words from others when he was but a child. Believing them true, today I cut down those aunts as well. For I deemed them a disgrace to this house.”

“Ugh... It’s done.”
“Done!”

Masaki struck his knee. Wiping away the tears that cascaded from both eyes, he spent some time gazing up at the black ceiling until—as if struck by sudden inspiration—he sidled up to the Buddhist altar and lit a stick of incense. He completed his reverent worship with solemn precision before straightening his posture and loosening his undergarment.

“Yoichi!”

“Wh—”

“Be my second!”

“Ha... Grandfather... Wait! Cut me down…”

“No hesitation… Get back!”

Yoichi was sent sprawling by Masaki’s right elbow and tumbled end over end to the base of the sliding door. Meanwhile, Masaki pulled Kongōbyōe—tucked into his sleeve—sharply to the left with a twist and thrust with one hand. From beneath his gasping breath, he looked up at the Buddhist altar.

“Hanashiro family—ancestral spirits through generations—witness this! Even if our house should perish through my fault... To have such a grandson... This one has been granted a grandson... By merit of my deeds... I beg forgiveness... Grant me your pardon...”

Yoichi remained curled up at the base of the sliding door, sinking into tears.

“Yoichi…!”

“Yes… Yes…”

“Be my second.”
“Be my second…”

“..................”

“No resolve.”

“Would you weep?!”

“Yes… Yes…”

“Present grandfather’s white-haired severed head to the Chief Inspector.”
“Together with the women’s heads…”

“……Ha…”

“If they still won’t pardon us… take vengeance on the Chief Inspector with one strike… Cut… cut him down till he’s dead… A samurai’s… a samurai’s pride demands it… Quickly… do it quickly…”

“……Ha… Yes…”

VI

Tadayuki was in high spirits.

“Hohoh... That fourteen-year-old lad...”

Chief Inspector Bitō Naiki, still in his crested formal attire, prostrated himself in a corner of the tea room.

“Your Lordship’s will has been done. [He] bound together three heads—those of Grandfather Masaki and two concubines—draped them over a bare horse’s neck, rushed to this humble official’s residence moments ago, and pleaded that Grandfather’s crimes be pardoned.”

“Oh my… How gallant… How heartrendingly earnest...”

Lady O-Hide, who had been demonstrating the thick tea preparation before the hearth, was perhaps overcome with admiration.
Her ears flushed crimson to the tips as she blinked her eyes rapidly.
Tadayuki also sighed.

“Hmm. There really are some unbelievable lads out there, aren’t there? There’s nothing like this even in old tales, I tell you. So you permitted the continuation of the family name?”

“Haha. In any case, since he came before Your Lordship and settled matters, I instructed him to wait and then attended the matter as is, but—”

“You damned fool…!”

And Tadayuki suddenly roared.
Lady O-Hide nearly dropped the tea bowl.

"Why... why would you utter such hollow reassurances? What if that lad who found solace in your words... that Yoichi who thought himself pardoned and relaxed his guard... were to commit seppuku while you were away?! Is he not one who'd readily commit seppuku? With that caliber of spirit... You fool! Why didn't you bring him here under escort? All this way..."

"Ha ha. Being unable to gauge Your Lordship's will, [I] have had [him] wait in the next room..."

“What… You say you’ve had [him] wait in the next room?”

“It is as Your Lordship wills.”

“If that’s the case, why didn’t you say so sooner? You utter fool! Bring him here... Here...”

“Ha ha! I humbly beg… that through Your Lordship’s compassion, the matter of pardoning Yoichi…”

“Ah, you incomprehensible fool. Do you think I would execute him with my own hands?! To think such a one... I shall bestow a reward. I wish to bestow the reward with my own hands. Don’t you understand, you fool…? Ah… Then summon the storehouse staff… Call the storehouse chief… Have them attend me at once!”

When the long corridor had echoed with a clattering commotion for some time, Hanashiro Yoichi Masazumi entered, squeezed between Fuchi Kaneemon, the storehouse chief, and Bitō Naiki.
He had neatly arranged his hair and wore immaculate formal attire bearing a family crest with hakama trousers.

Behind Lady O-Hide, a faint rustle passed through the ranks of concubines.

“Oh my… How adorable… Oh my…”

Yoichi, without the slightest hesitation, approached directly before Tadayuki and placed both hands on the ground.
Bitō Naiki and Fuchi Kaneemon took hold of both his sleeves from behind.

“You are granted an audience.”

“No no.”
“Don’t you hold him so tightly.”
“Release him.”

“Ha ha!”
“Given he’s the grandson of that audacious wretch, should any discourtesy be shown toward Your Lordship...”

“No no.”
“Such needless caution!”
“A lad bold enough to defy me grows ever more intriguing.”
“You there, brat.”
“This Yoichi.”
“Show your face.”
“I am Tadayuki.”
“Let me see it.”

Yoichi raised his head and clenched his small lips.
He glared up at Tadayuki from beneath lowered brows.

“Hohohaha!”
“That’s a proper warrior’s countenance.”
“Not like those feeble faces fashionable nowadays.”
“Good lad, good lad.”
“Come nearer.”
“Shuffle closer.”
“A model Kuroda samurai—petite yet peerless.”
“Hohohaha…”

“Now then, come closer.”

Lady O-Hide called out with feigned gentleness, but Yoichi remained motionless, glaring sidelong at her from the corner of his eye. Not only did his cheeks turn visibly pale, but he also sharply narrowed his eyes. As if concealing some inexpressible discontent… as though resenting the women’s meddling…

The room fell silent. However, Tadayuki, appearing in high spirits, inquired of Old Man Fuchi:

“Is there not a good territory somewhere nearby, I wonder?”

“Hah.”
“It concerns newly acquired territory, Your Lordship.”

“Hmm.”
“I recall the Hanashiro stipend being three hundred fifty koku.”
“Have two hundred more koku added to it.”

“Ha ha!”
“What a blessed fortune…”

As the Chief Inspector and Old Man Fuchi prostrated themselves, Lady O-Hide and the concubines all bowed their heads in unison.
It must have been their hearts overflowing with sympathy for Yoichi that compelled them to do so.

“The two villages of Futamura and Tenzan have an official yield of one hundred fifty koku, but their actual yield reaches two hundred koku.”

“Is there no other territory with an official yield of two hundred koku?”

“Not even an inch of land remains elsewhere…”

“Hmm.”
“If there are none, then there’s nothing to be done.”
“The two villages of Futamura and Tenzan make an excellent hawking ground.”
“I shall take Yoichi crane hawking!”
“From today, I shall have him appointed as an inner page!”

The concubines jostled each other's shoulders, their eyes gleaming.
They looked happy... as if to say...

“Bring the inkstone box… I shall have an official decree prepared.”

Upon the document presented by Lady O-Hide, Tadayuki himself wielded the brush.

“Now Yoichi... I shall call you Masazumi, you know.
“I shall bestow an official decree upon you.”

“I am profoundly honored.”

Yoichi stiffened his shoulders with an air of personal resolve and respectfully accepted it.
At the same time, everyone once again bowed their heads.

Tadayuki looked intently at Yoichi’s face.
Yoichi also looked up intently at Tadayuki’s face.

“Hmm.
“Still not enough for you, I see.”
“You’re puffing up that face of yours.”
“Territory means nothing to you, does it?”
“Just a child after all.”
“Ha ha… Look here, brat.”
“Want to fumble through giving you a reward somehow.”
"This Tadayuki’s poor, you know…"
Hmm, hmm.
I’ll grant something proper."

“Bring the paper and brush...”

Old Man Fuchi seemed to start, his complexion changing as he looked up at Tadayuki. If any more territory were to be allocated now, the treasury’s management would become untenable. With this thought, they all watched Tadayuki’s brush movements with bated breath and single-minded focus until his prized painting of three horses materialized upon the official document.

“Look here, Yoichi.
“I shall draw a picture and bestow it upon you.”
“Ha ha.”
“It’s good, isn’t it… Now try reading the inscription above it.”

Yoichi, having spread the reverently received paper across his knees, read the inscription on the hastily written document in a clear voice.

“The steed of one’s heart is driven by the whip of loyalty… The whip of loyalty… Guided by the reins of filial piety… Whether advancing or retreating…”

“Oh… You read it well.”
“You read it well.”
“I confer upon you this single character of ‘loyalty’.”
“It is my personal name.”
“From this day forth, you shall bear the name Hanashiro Yoichi Tadazumi.”

Everyone in attendance let out a sigh.
Such favor from their lord, such honor—there had been nothing comparable since the previous lord's reign.

Yet Yoichi never so much as twitched an eyebrow.
Clutching both the official decree laid across his knees and the painting stacked atop it, he stared fixedly until a single teardrop splashed onto the paper's center.
...Then came another...until finally they fell in an uncontrollable shower, scattering until the pale-ink horses blurred and dissolved before his eyes.

“Look here.”
“What a waste.”
“On top of the official decree...”

Bitō Naiki frantically tried to retrieve it.

“Come now.”
“Take your leave with gratitude.”

Old Man Fuchi pressed, but Tadayuki raised his hand to stop him.

“Ah… Discard it, discard it.”
“Do not fret. …You there, brat.”
“You look pathetic… What are you crying for?”
“Is there still something else you want…?”

“Grandfather…”

Yoichi let out a voice as faint as a mosquito’s whine.

“What?”
“You want Grandfather?”

Yoichi nodded readily.

“Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha…”

“Oh ho ho ho ho ho ho…”

The sound of laughter flowed and drifted through the women's quarters.

“Ah ha ha.
“You spout nonsense.
“Your grandfather committed seppuku and died, did he not? …Hmm.
“Was it not you who compelled him to commit seppuku?”

“Grandfather… this painting…”

“What.”
“Are you saying you want to show this painting to your grandfather?”

Yoichi, his shoulders trembling as he nodded, collapsed onto the painting in a burst of tears.

“Oh dear, oh dear—what sacrilege.
“On top of His Lordship’s own brushwork...”

Old Man Fuchi began to pull Yoichi up.

“Discard it!”

Tadayuki suddenly barked.
Before Yoichi could even wonder what had offended him—Tadayuki, stretching his arm from atop the thickly piled cushions, grabbed Yoichi’s collar barehanded.
He pulled him roughly closer with brute force and hoisted him onto his lap.
He clutched him firmly between the white rinzu silk sleeves and pressed his cheek against him uncontrollably.

“...Yoichi.”
“Forgive me... I was short-sighted... I made a samurai die...”
“Forgive me… Please forgive me.”
“From now on, let me hold you in place of your grandfather.”
“Please... please...”

Yoichi clung to Tadayuki’s neck and wept with all his voice.

“Grandfather, Grandfather.”
“Grandfather… Grandfather… Graaandfather…”

The crumpled official decree and horse painting slid smoothly away, scattering across the garden.
Yet no one went to retrieve them.