Pathway to Japanese Literature

1

The lamp swayed heavily with a single lurch, and in the blink of an eye, the light suddenly went out.
It was a strange extinguishing.

“……?”

Tsushima-no-kami instantly stiffened and straightened his posture, his eyes sweeping every corner of the study as he quietly attuned himself to the darkness.

Both the pistol gifted by the Dutch envoy and the cherished Sukehiro lay within immediate reach beside him, yet he made no move to take them.
If it were an assassin, he had long been prepared.

But there was no sound.

Not the rhythm of breathing, nor the gathering of killing intent, nor any trace of someone seemingly drawing near—none of these could be heard.

Yet he did not lower his guard.
At the very least, there were three enemies he had to be prepared for.
The foremost enemies were naturally the Exclusionist faction loyalists who, because he himself sought to approve and continue Senior Minister Ii’s port-opening policies, denounced him as a traitor and raged against him as defiling our sacred land with his treasonous acts, lying in wait for any opportunity to strike.
The second enemy that must never be forgotten were naturally the Loyalist faction members enraged by his desperate measure for the Union of Court and Shogunate—even as he sought to approve and continue the port-opening policies to prop up the collapsing Edo Shogunate once more, he had promised to implement exclusionism while knowing it impossible, and humbly requested Princess Kazu’s imperial marriage.
The third were those enraged by the frequent attacks on foreigners—enemies provoked by that pledge he had publicly declared days prior.

“What madness compels you to burn embassies, harm foreigners, and perpetrate such reckless acts as would invite national calamity?!”
“If you have grievances against the shogunate’s governance, then kill this Andō.”
“Slay this Tsushima!”
“If even that fails to quell your rage, then deign to assassinate the shogunate itself!”
“What madness compels you to act recklessly, provoked by baseless emotions, and lead the nation into peril?!”
“Let it be declared throughout the realm that Senior Councillor Andō Tsushima-no-kami has spoken thus!”

Having made such a declaration, the radicals were undoubtedly lying in wait for their chance.—If these were assassins—and they surely must be—then without question one of those factions had infiltrated.

Tsushima-no-kami sat upright in formal seiza, as if awaiting an honorable end, and intently peered into the study that had once again fallen into darkness.

But still, there was no sound.

“Who goes there?”

With a mix of disappointment and relief, Tsushima-no-kami readjusted the glasses with cut-glass lenses—gifted by the Dutch envoy along with the pistol—and quietly called out.

“Is Michiya not here? The light went out!”

“At once! I am presently in the process of bringing it.”

Responding without delay while holding up a new lampstand with both hands at eye level, the one who courteously appeared there was not his favored close attendant Michiya, but the tea monk Daimu.

“That... Michiya does not seem to be here. What hour might it be now, I wonder?”

“I have just had word of the fourth hour struck.”

“It has grown so late already.”
“It went out in a strange manner.”
“Look into it thoroughly.”

“……?”

“I am puzzled—what do you make of it?”

“It seems somewhat suspicious, if I may humbly say.
“Both the lamp oil and wick are sufficient, yet—”

“Hmph!... Strange indeed that it extinguished despite being sufficient.”
“If someone were to employ a fire-extinguishing technique—”

“It must be the work of someone who has mastered ninja techniques.”

“That may be.
“It should have been within Iga-ryū.
“If that is the case, then somewhat—”

“This bears an ill omen, if I may say. Your Lordship must maintain utmost vigilance!”

“…………”

“Shall I proceed accordingly?”

“What is it?”

“I shall immediately report to the officials at the lodgings and humbly request they urgently reinforce the guard numbers. My Lord, what are your commands?”

…………

“How does Your Lordship find this situation?”
“Shall I proceed as instructed?”

“Do not fuss. Go.”
“Go.”

“But—”

“In these troubled times of state affairs, it is only natural for those standing in the halls of governance to have enemies of such standing.”
“Go.”

It was a voice combining autumn’s frost and summer’s scorching sun.

Having dismissed the concern, Tsushima-no-kami readjusted his glasses and quietly returned to his reading—the volume being the *Overview of Overseas Affairs*, compiled through translations ordered from the Barbarian Documents Research Bureau.

Yet he had not read half a page when—
The lampstand creaked ominously before extinguishing again with a pop.
Simultaneously, Tsushima-no-kami stiffened his posture anew and calmly attuned himself to his surroundings without alarm.

But still, there was no sound.
Not a breath, not a blade's aura—no trace of approaching assassins could be detected.

“Daimu! Daimu! It’s gone out again!”

“At once! Right away! I shall humbly bring a new lamp immediately. This repeated strangeness is most perplexing.”

“Something doesn’t sit right. Show me the oil jar.”

Having inspected the oil jar, Tsushima-no-kami’s face soon transformed into a bright smile. The reason for the extinguishing and why it wouldn’t burn—all mysteries were instantly solved.

“You bunglers! Hmm. See? This isn’t oil—it’s practically water. The storeroom staff must have made a blunder and added water. Have it replaced.”

“This unworthy one must have indeed mistaken oil for water.”
“Such incompetence—I am deeply ashamed.”
“I shall replace it immediately, if I may humbly say.”

“However—”

“At once!”

“Do not reprimand them. They all seem tightly strung of late. Even the slightest mistake might drive someone to shame themselves through seppuku. Is that clear? Never reprimand them harshly.”

“Understood. I shall bear this in mind. When I convey your august command, they shall surely be moved to tears of gratitude. While replacing the oil, I shall bring candles for Your Lordship’s use.”

“Hmm...”

While uttering a loud “Hmm,” Tsushima-no-kami suddenly felt as though something within his chest opened with a whoosh, and before he knew it, droplets welled up at the corners of his eyes.

Relief!
No—it was not relief.
The heart that had been continuously arming itself and engrossed in multifarious government affairs—from having unexpectedly shown compassion toward his retainers—must have inadvertently reverted to human sentiment, giving rise to these unbidden tears.

The brilliantly gleaming candles on silver stands were arranged on both sides of the writing desk just as they were.

When he had quietly sat upright and was about to return to his reading—it struck without warning.
Just as the corridor had seemed undisturbed, hurried footsteps suddenly echoed from beyond, and the tea monk Daimu—who had gone to replace the lamp oil—appeared there in disarray, sinking to his knees as he spoke.

“Do not let down your guard! My Lord! By no means let down your guard!”

“So they’ve come.”

“At once! Having detected a suspicious shadow in the garden, the residents of the lodgings are now in pursuit and have arrived!”

He stood up abruptly, yet his footsteps as he moved to the wide veranda were remarkably quiet.

Simultaneously, from beyond the garden, came the clattering sound of footsteps rushing past each other.
At the very moment it seemed—

“I implore you, turn a blind eye!”
“Grant me your mercy!”
“By all that’s holy, I beg you!”
“I implore you, turn a blind eye!”

The voice that had desperately cried out was a woman’s!
—It was unmistakably a woman’s voice.

Tsushima-no-kami’s body involuntarily slipped from the veranda edge into the dark garden.

The figures who had been brought there as if simultaneously—though they had seemed to be only women—were in fact two people together, one appearing to be a young samurai.

“Th-there is...”
“I humbly present the lamp here.”

“……⁉”

In the light of the extended paper candle, Tsushima-no-kami glimpsed the two figures—his voice leapt with surprise and incredulity.

“Hah.
“You there... You people are Michiya and Otoyo!”

The two who had desperately bowed their faces to avoid being seen were indeed Otoyo, the maid, and Michiya, the close retainer who had enjoyed greater trust than anyone else.

"Scandalous!"

No—love! Recalling the rumors of their affair that had reached his ears in glimpses and fragments these past days—this natural progression between two young, beautiful souls—an unbidden smile of heartfelt warmth suddenly bloomed at the corners of Tsushima-no-kami's lips.

But that was a momentary smile. Regaining his stern heart as a statesman who must remain ever-vigilant against yielding to emotion, he rebuked them harshly.

“You scoundrels!”
“Away with you!”

“N-no! It was not born of such idle fancy!”
“Both of us… both of us…”

As Michiya desperately tried to explain,

“I’ll hear none of it!”
“These ears heed no excuses!”
“Let this be witnessed by all!”
“While loyal hearts keep sleepless vigil for my safety, how dare you carouse in forbidden sport!”
“I’ll not suffer the sight of your shame!”
“Cast them both out forthwith!”

Having harshly scolded them as if to suppress—with rough words—the human emotions and hearts that threatened to surge forth, Tsushima-no-kami glanced aside and abruptly spoke.

“It approaches the hour.”
“Make ready for the covert inspection.”

After wrapping his face completely in a deep hood lined lightly with layered Chikushi silk floss for wind protection, Tsushima-no-kami soon went out into the quiet late-night streets as though nothing had occurred.

II

The guards in attendance numbered merely two.

However, these two men were honed in the arts of arresting techniques and short-sword combat.

Even knowing his life was in danger, these covert inspections by Tsushima-no-kami had become nightly occurrences unless rain intervened.

Having passed through Akasaka Gate, the three shadows threaded through the deep winter midnight darkness of the fourth hour, turning along the wind-chilled moatside toward Yotsuya Mitsuke. Moreover, what they were searching for as they walked was indeed the street stalls.

“As expected, they’ve set up in the same spot again tonight. Proceed without detection.”

When they spotted the desolate lantern light of a night-sobbing soba stall on Mitsuke-mae Street, the three figures stealthily drew near. One might have thought they would approach and enter, yet the three figures stood in a small patch of shade there and observed from afar whether there were any customers.

However, there were none.

The hour was precisely right, and the location a prominent one, yet not a single customer could be seen.
They stood watching for some time, but with the stallkeeper continuing his faint, mournful cries of "Night-soba!" like one lamenting the chilly evening's poor trade, not a single patron came in the end.

"My Lord!"

“Yes!”

“Do you recall how many patrons frequented yonder stall last night?”

“There were.”
“I clearly observed two individuals.”

“And prior to that?”

“Three in attendance.”

“Nightly, the customer stream dwindles more conspicuously,” he muttered.
Deplorable.
This demanded contemplation.
“Let us advance.”

Stealthily, yet with leaden footsteps.

Before Ushigome Gate, the light of yet another solitary street stall came into view.

The three shadows similarly came to a halt in the cover of objects and observed the customers' situation from afar.

“How goes it?
“Are there any?”

“Yes. There are, but—”

“How many are there?”

“There’s only one.”

“Scarcely,” he muttered. “What of sake? Are they drinking?”

“They are not. Appeared chilled and dejected, only eating udon noodles.”

“As expected, here too the decline shows itself.”
"A month past, seven or eight patrons would crowd here nightly."
"Hmm."
“Yamamura.”
“That was indeed so.”

“Yes.”
“As you say, my Lord.”
“Last year they drank heartily and sang songs too, but since New Year’s dawned, desolation has taken hold.”
“Last night too held but a solitary soul.”

“So...” ――My chest grew tight.
“I must resolve to act without further hesitation. Proceed onward.”

Along the moat's edge as they emerged into Iidamachi and were about to turn toward Koishikawa Gate, two street stalls came into view—one serving stewed oden and the other sushi.
—Yet both stalls stood utterly silent, desolately quiet, with not a single customer in sight.

“My Lord!”

“Yes.”

“You were supposed to go to Asakusa today.”

“Yes. Considering protocol,” he replied, “I took occasion on my return journey to survey conditions at Ryōgoku Kawasaki as well.”

“What state were the public entertainments in?”

“I informed Lord Ichi that even during the Tenpō famine years, we never witnessed such desolation.”

“Did you not hear any voices of discontent?”

“I did.”
“Where exactly the fault lies—there has never been such despondency among the people.”
“It is as though we linger in some half-death.”
“If they must perish, let them perish cleanly.”
“If recovery is possible, then let it come swiftly—we must resolve this stagnation one way or another,” I reported with due deference.

—Truly, it was the voice of the land.
Amidst the clamorous voices of "Revere the Emperor, Expel the Barbarians" and "Open Ports, Support the Shogunate"—yesterday’s righteousness becoming today’s error—now compounded by the terror of the Black Ships’ arrival, it was indeed the voice of anxiety and unrest festering within the land itself.

Tsushima-no-kami walked on in silence, his steps measured and quiet.

To the right, separated by water, stood a high embankment.
To the left stood the upper residence of the Mito Tokugawa, foremost of the Three Tokugawa Houses.
—All to eternally protect Great Edo Castle beyond that high embankment separated by mere water, they had granted the Resident Deputy Shogun both authority and 350,000 koku to establish this Tokugawa-pillared residence here. Yet now that same water demarcated ally from foe, as the Mito domain—sworn protector from the Tokugawa branch family—waved high its banners of imperial loyalty and shogunate overthrowal while preparing to draw bows against the Tokugawa main house.

“My Lord!”

Tsushima-no-kami glared at the formidable plastered wall and abruptly spoke.

"My Lord!"

"Yes."

"People..."

"Yes."

"At no time do I attain such clarity of mind as when resolved to act with my neck already upon the executioner's block."
"Hmm."
"What say you?"

“I find myself unable to fully grasp your august command.”
“What do you suddenly deign to instruct now?”

“I speak of steadfast resolve.”
“When one bearing the nation’s destiny confronts national calamity, in handling affairs they must first act with decisiveness, second with decisiveness, and maintain decisiveness throughout.”
“I do not wish to cling to life,” he murmured.

“…………”

“Do not weep.
“It is still too early to weep.”
“When I think on such matters, the Great Elder—Lord Ii—met a splendid end.”
“Whether for better or worse, those who carry national policy and stand on the front lines of governance should desire to meet such an end.”
“How enviable,” he murmured.

“This unworthy one c-can scarcely find words to express…”

“Do not weep.
What manner of thing is this from a man of your standing?—The Milky Way glistens clear tonight.”

The wind had grown colder.
“Shall we quicken our pace?”

As they quickened their pace and were about to reach the Ochanomizu embankment, three or four black shadows suddenly came rushing in—and just as it seemed they would block their path, a voice barked harshly.

“Halt!”
“Who goes there?”

“What nonsense is this ‘halt’?!
“A noble personage stands before you.
“Withdraw!”

At this rebuke, the two Yamamura attendants swiftly positioned themselves as human shields and assumed defensive stances,

“Do not stir.”

It was Tsushima-no-kami’s voice—cold and taut as a drawn bowstring.

“Judging by their appearance, they must be from the ronin-control patrol squad.”

“……?”

“Hmm, yes—that must be the case.”
“I am Andō.”
“I am Tsushima.”

“Ah! So it is Your Lordship! Or rather, we humbly beg forgiveness for our blunder in failing to recognize you. We are five members under Hayase Sukesaburō of the Satsuma Ronin Patrol Unit.”

“If they are Hayase’s men, then skilled swordsmen they must be. Your late-night duties weigh heavy. Maintain thorough vigilance.”

“There is no cause for Your Lordship’s concern. May Your Lordship himself take utmost care――”

As the loyalist ronin patrolmen stood rigid as dolls seeing them off, Tsushima-no-kami’s footsteps made no sound. Beyond the Shōdō Hall’s rear, crossing Shōhei Bridge and passing through Sujikai Gate, six more stall lights glimmered along the embankment. This was Yanagihara Embankment—where women flowered wantonly in darkness, displaying unnatural vitality—where six or seven shadowed stalls counted as ordinary.

However, contrary to expectations, even there customer traffic had dwindled to utter desolation—only three patrons across six stalls.

Tsushima-no-kami remained silent with deep sorrow.—There was no need to inspect further.
If even Yanagihara—the bustling district—had come to this, one could well imagine the state of other areas.
Merely having witnessed it, his heart only sank further into despondency.

He quickened his pace and returned to the mansion well past the eighth hour in the dead of night.

Tai Kaku no Shin—the elder retainer who had waited without sleeping—perceived the presence first, showing his aged figure in the cold while placing his hands on the ground, gazing up intently at his lord’s sorrowful countenance, spoke in a voice resonating from his lower abdomen.

“You must be exhausted.”
“Your safe return is most welcome.”
“How were things tonight?”

“Do you wish to know?”

“Your Lordship’s burdens are this humble one’s burdens—how could I not wish to hear?”
“What was the nature of what you observed?”

“I have no words.”
“A desolation like flames snuffed out.”

“Then it is indeed——”

“Indeed.”
“I can no longer afford to hesitate.”
“I must press forward and act with resolve.”

…………

“Do you object?”
“Does your silence mean you object?”

“No objection exists.
“Should Your Lordship—in your profound wisdom—deem no alternative path remains, then whatever decision you graciously make, this Kakunoshin shall harbor no dissent—”

“You claim no objection—what do you imply?”

“In this humble one’s foolish consideration, the nightly decline of street stalls cannot be thought of solely as evidence of the townspeople’s financial decline.”
“One factor may be that continued loyalist arrests and ronin crackdowns—these bloody incidents of violence—have intimidated the populace, or so it is humbly considered.”

“There is some truth to that.”
“But you too are an ordinary soul, hmm.”
“What you just said is what any common man would utter.”
I thought otherwise.
I wished to observe longer the undercurrents flowing through society’s depths.
Even were violent clashes to multiply daily, vitality would naturally surge if townsfolk’s purses swelled full.
Those street stalls gathered the very dregs of those common masses.
The desolation visible in those stalls—where crowds ought to gather—proved those lowest strata lacked vigor.
As one bearing governance of the realm, this Andō Tsushima would first consider the purses of those buried beneath.
I resolved to weigh the presence or absence of vitality in my course.
The people must be guided, not enlightened. To paupers, Exclusionist cries are but sutras chanted to deaf ears.
Gold koban, silver pieces, copper coins—whatever shape the world takes, those wretches find joy when their pouches jingle full.
Yet alas, our nation now wants for such gold.
Only through trade with foreign devils might this be remedied.
Open trade would see gold pour into our land like floodwaters—waters that moisten parched lowlands.
Even those buried deep would drink their share from this flow.
Moreover, these three years past Portugal has courted us for commerce.
The Overseas Affairs Compendium records it plain: Portugal stands equal to Holland and America—a prosperous realm where gold rivers run.

Tsushima ever seeks only to weigh the purses of the poor.
"I shall resolve this.
Having resolved, I mean to grant foreign trade permissions come tomorrow!
Now then.
"Tai - does Tsushima err in his judgment?"

"But in that case, yet again—"

“Do you mean to say I should follow in Ii Naosuke’s footsteps?!”

“Hah.”
“As your vassal, I can only—truly only—think of Your Lordship’s person…”

“I have long been prepared for death! Even should I fall to rebel blades, for the sake of our century-spanning plan, this Andō Tsushima’s life is but a single hair. The arguments of those clamoring for exclusion equally churn my bowels with absurdity. First they cower before foreigners, then spew this preposterous falsehood—that opening trade with foreign ships would endanger our divine land—yet if they truly fear national peril, they ought to refrain from these civil war-baiting domestic squabbles! Now then, Tai! Is my thinking mistaken?”

“No, that is not what I meant to say. What of the sacred promise made with Kyoto?”

“That one. When you speak of a ‘promise,’ do you mean that verbal agreement to implement exclusionism?”

“Hah. If I may humbly remind you—was it not Your Lordship who exchanged Princess Kazu-no-miya’s imperial marriage for a sacred vow that within ten years we would jointly implement exclusionism? Yet now, scarce two months after beseeching that very marriage alliance, you proactively break this covenant with your own hands—this crime of discarding solemn promises, this... forgive me... this double-dealing—how does Your Lordship intend to account for it?”

“You too have aged suddenly of late, hmm—”

No sooner had he spoken than a crisp smile graced his lips, and he declared resolutely,

“Every one of these measures is statecraft!”
“This is not double-dealing—it is a grand strategy to rescue the precarious fate of our nation!”
“Preventing civil strife must take first priority—if Kyoto and Edo cannot maintain harmonious relations, there could be no greater joy for the nation. Just as beseeching the imperial marriage was foremost in loyalty, so too conducting foreign trade out of concern for the nation must be considered foremost in loyalty!”
“Daimu!”
“I wish to clear my mind.”
“Bring the shō!”

Facing the stars of a deep winter night, Tsushima-no-kami sat formally upright and serenely played the shō he habitually practiced.

III

That same late night――.

It was a secluded house deep within Ushigome Yanagicho.
At that house, the sound of prolonged sobbing showed no sign of ceasing.
The ones crying were none other than Michiya and Otoyo.
It was Michiya and Otoyo—the two who, having been discovered in their secret love affair, were now taking shelter in this house connected through family ties in the immediate aftermath of their exile.—The more intensely their cherished love grew, the more infinitely sorrowful it must have been for these beautiful young lovers to have their romance condemned.

Otoyo, with teardrops clinging to tear-drenched eyelashes, spoke again as if remembering.

“Even so, this is too cruel…”
“My Lord is also being too cruel...”

“You mustn’t!”
“Don’t say that!”
“It is forbidden!”

When Michiya abruptly raised his face from where it had been hanging bowed, he sternly checked and rebuked her.

"There exists not the slightest cause for resentment toward My Lord."
"The guilt lies solely with us two who dared deceive your eyes."
"Had we but honestly laid bare our circumstances even a little sooner, we surely would have received pardon—it was our concealment until now that was wrongful."
"You must not!"
"You must not give voice to resentment against My Lord!"

"No—I will speak!"
"I will speak."
"Though our love was hidden, it was no wanton dalliance deserving such harsh reproof."
"That—that—without so much as a single word of inquiry, His Lordship would cast us into exile—this is too cruel."
"This is too cruel."

“When I say it is forbidden, why do you not cease?!”
"No matter what punishment we may receive, you must not speak ill of My Lord who showed us kindness."
“It is fortunate enough that we were not struck down by his own hand.”
“You must not speak of it any longer!”

“But... but...”

“Must you still persist?!”

“Yes, I will speak!”
“I speak because I wish to achieve our union openly.”
“Leaving myself aside—you who have served closely since eight years of age, who received My Lord’s favor beyond measure. You whom My Lord once declared ‘I consider him as my own child.’ To think that—that—for such a you, to receive this heartless treatment, as if declaring ‘Impropriety violates house law—execute them!’ like some common retainer—I cannot help but resent it.”
“I cannot help but resent you, My Lord, even as you are.”

――Michiya too found that thought abruptly welling up within him. When he thought back, he realized it was indeed true. When he was eight years old and first ascended to formal audience—when My Lord had requested tea—Michiya accidentally spilled it upon his lap. My Lord had declared with amusement, “My, you’re quite skilled at watering things, hmm?”—such was the nature of this lord. Then again at ten years of age, when he became playmate to the young lord and frolicked in the study hall, Tsushima-no-kami had even declared, “Let us both strike each other’s heads!”—such was this lord who, in his human aspect, was rich in tenderness.

And yet, it was indeed a treatment that could only be called excessively harsh.—Michiya raised his face sorrowfully and gazed intently into Otoyo’s eyes. From her eyes, then past her breasts, Michiya’s own eyes—strangely trembling and gleaming—were drawn to the faint swelling beneath her breasts.

Four months!
——There, the four-month fruit of their love had already taken root.

Had My Lord realized what had come to pass, he might not have reprimanded them so severely. Even had he chastised them once, had he still possessed the abundant compassion of former days——but what arose in Michiya’s heart then was the pitiable figure of his lord, worn down by ceaseless political cares that left him haggard day and night.

Each dark shadow etched into that face was none other than the dark shadow of national crisis.

His Lordship’s every action determined Edo’s fate.

And thus His Lordship’s every action determined even the nation’s fate.

How pitiable indeed.
His Lordship’s days and nights—which allowed not a moment’s respite in his heart—were pitiable beyond measure.
No—precisely because of that—he could not dwell on a love as insignificant as theirs.

Tick-tock went the Dutch-imported clock, continuing its quiet marking of time.—Of course, it had been bestowed by His Lordship. Even in exile, they had brought this at least as a memento from His Lordship.

Do not resent!
I must protect him!

“Lady Otoyo!”

As if revived with relief, Michiya raised his face and suddenly asked.

“Tomorrow is the fifteenth.”

“Aye. ’Tis the day of monthly castle attendance.”

Abruptly stood up, he declared resolutely.

“I must go!”
“This is no ordinary condition.”
“Take good care of yourself.”

“Wait!”
“Where are you going so suddenly at this hour?”
“What brings you out in the middle of the night?”

“At least as a token of apology—no—rather, Michiya must go and do what he must.”
“Stay strong and live steadfastly……”

“Wait!”
“Wait, I implore you!”
“Wait, I implore you!”

But Michiya’s figure vanished into the outer darkness.—As if synchronized, the clock creaked out the fourth hour.
The clock in the grand hall also struck the fourth hour at that moment.
But Tsushima-no-kami remained seated like a death statue from that moment onward.—Elder Retainer Tai voiced his concern.

“Perhaps due to the approaching dawn, the chill has grown markedly more intense.”
“Given Your Lordship’s weariness following the incognito outing, would it not be advisable to take your rest?”

“……”

“What! My Lord!”

“……”

“My Lord!”

“……”

“Can you not hear?”
"My Lord!"
"Dawn is not long now."
“Would it not be advisable for Your Lordship to lie down even briefly?”

“……”

“What!”

“My Lord!”

“……”

“My Lord!”

At that moment, Tsushima-no-kami—who had been silent as a death statue—abruptly raised his face and spoke.

“Tomorrow is the fifteenth, was it not?”

“Understood.”
“’Tis the day of monthly general castle attendance.”
“That is why I have been suggesting that Your Lordship take your rest even for a brief while, ’tis.”
“How does that strike Your Lordship, ’tis?”

“Rather than that—what flickers before my eyes is...”
…The desolation of street stalls flickers before my eyes….
“Indeed, it is the fifteenth.”

“There is no mistake.”

“There can be no mistake, I trust.”

“Your Lordship persists…”

“What am I to do but persist?”
“If it be the monthly general castle attendance, then ’tis precisely the opportune moment to declare Tsushima’s unshakable resolve to the feudal lords—bring the inkstone.”

“Pardon?”

“I said bring the paper materials, ’tis.”

While Kaku no Shin prepared the official documents with evident puzzlement, Tsushima-no-kami tightened his lips into the very image of resolve and began writing with fluid strokes.

“Regarding trade and commerce with Portugal, there remains no path but to resolutely carry this through. You must promptly facilitate the conclusion of the treaty; all necessary arrangements shall be made without omission. Human life holds no tomorrow. Therefore, Andō Tsushima hereby commands that all preparations be expedited with utmost urgency.”

He set down his brush and declared with solemn resolve.

“In my testament—no, regardless of how late the night has grown, this matter brooks no delay.”
“Immediately have this delivered to the Foreign Magistrate’s office.”

“Then it seems we must—”

“I will not hear it—flicker… flicker… Before my eyes there remains naught but that ceaseless flickering.” Lowering his voice as if mindful of others present, Tsushima-no-kami quietly inquired: “Are the bath preparations complete?”

“They are prepared, my Lord.”

——It was an elaborate bath.

And so night began to pale into dawn.
Returning from the bathhouse with footsteps showing no sign of disturbance, Tsushima-no-kami finally spoke quietly.

“Burn incense.”

It was indeed a calm voice.
After Kaku no Shin had burned incense and brought it before his lord’s lap, [Andō] said bluntly.

“Do not listen.
Burn it into my head.”

Startled, the old retainer lowered his face as though overwhelmed.
He had resolved himself to death.
Having purified himself through ritual ablutions and burned incense into his hair—this noble resolve stemmed from his determination not to expose an unsightly severed head, even should he fall to assassins’ hands.

From Kaku no Shin’s aged eyes, teardrops scattered like a waterfall.
The hand holding up the incense burner trembled violently.
His voice trembled, hoarse and quivering.
“It is a noble act indeed.”
“Truly, truly, there is naught else to say but that it is a noble act.”

“It was a long master and servant relationship, was it not.”

“…………”

“Ominous.”
“It would be unseemly to show tears.”
The Tairō as well—Lord Ii’s final moments were likewise.
“For assassins, striking when their target attends castle duty presents the most opportune moment to achieve their objective.”
“The reason I persistently inquired whether it was the fifteenth day was for that very purpose.”
“That is precisely why I hastened my decision.”
“The assassins targeting me must also be lying in wait for tomorrow—no, rather, for today’s arrival.”
“Tai!”

“Y-yes...!”

“A refreshing morning this is.”

——The sky cleared crisply, and the sun rose.

Attendance at the castle was through Saka-shita Gate.
Tsushima-no-kami declared briskly.

“Have the escort assembled.”

“They are prepared, my Lord.”

“You haven’t increased the number of men, have you?”

“No—in case of emergency, or rather, considering all possibilities, I humbly deemed it prudent to select the most stalwart men and have increased their number by approximately twenty.”

“Unnecessary.”
“Cut their numbers!”

Having dismissed this outright, he then declared briskly.
“To return directly to my seat of office, I require no escort.
“Seven or eight men will suffice.”
“At the residence—Yamamura, then Michiya... Michiya wasn’t there, was he.”
“If that one were present, even one would suffice—but regardless, halve them.”

Tsushima-no-kami advanced toward the palanquin where the commanded escorts lay prostrate, his footsteps showing no sign of disturbance. But at that very instant.

A flash! A glint—before one could perceive the brief trail of light it drew through the morning sun—came flying from somewhere and, with a snick, lodged in the palanquin's front pole: a shuriken.

As they started and began to stir in alarm, Tsushima-no-kami calmly restrained them and watched. Could there be some urgent matter they needed to convey? It was indeed a shuriken missive.

“Show me.”

What met his forcibly opened eyes was the following sentence.

“Since new enemies have emerged, you must not let down your guard.
They are retainers indebted to Lord Hori Oribe-no-kami.
They harbor an ill-founded grudge against Your Lordship and have been gathering in secret to conspire; therefore, I hasten to inform you.”

Suddenly, a smile welled up on Tsushima-no-kami’s face.

“It appears there is someone protecting me from the shadows.”

But in an instant, that smile vanished, and his voice of anger scattered across the ground.

“Fools! It’s personal spite!”
"No—Andō Tsushima—I have no recollection of earning resentment from those indebted to Lord Hori Oribe-no-kami!"
People would laugh.
“—Go!”

With that scathing rebuke, his figure vanished into the palanquin.—Hori Oribe-no-kami had been the previous Foreign Magistrate.
Two months prior—on November 8th of last year—he had met a death shrouded in angry suspicion, spawning myriad speculative rumors.
Among these theories—that he perished raging against Tsushima-no-kami’s excessively progressive open-port policies; that as Foreign Magistrate he had secretly been an Exclusionist driven to seppuku by unbearable duties; that Tsushima-no-kami’s attempt to repurpose Shinagawa Gotenyama’s “useless” eighty thousand tsubo as foreign legation grounds provoked Oribe-no-kami’s obstinate defense of Edo’s strategic imperatives, culminating in confinement and aggrieved suicide—this final conjecture spread most widely.
If retainers beholden to the Hori clan indeed nursed bitterness, it could only be misplaced wrath over that imprisonment.

“Preposterous! To treacherous villains who comprehend no greater cause—do you think I’d meekly surrender this head?! There are still plenty who must act! Move out!”

The palanquin showed no sign of swaying as it proceeded steadily toward Saka-shita Gate. The escort numbered a mere ten. They arrived at Saka-shita Gate, its approach paved entirely with washed gravel, just before the fifth hour on a cold winter morning when dawn had yet to break.

The moment it seemed—a deafening gunshot pierced their ears. No sooner had a flurry of footsteps like the beating of wings surged forth than a voice suddenly cried out.

“Traitor Andō Tsushima! Judgment falls upon you!”
“Prepare yourself!”

A metallic clang rang out simultaneously.

Assassins!

The sword-wielding figures seemed to number seven or eight.

“There you are.”

Tsushima-no-kami descended from the palanquin with composed ease, his manner that of one greeting an awaited guest—only for his eyes to catch the figure of a young samurai charging forward like a fleeing hare. Eighteen or nineteen years old.

Mishima—the realization struck Tsushima-no-kami instantly. The assailant swinging his blade like a demonic fiend was none other than Hori Oribe-no-kami’s retainer Mishima Saburōbei, whom he recognized. A thunderous roar erupted without pause.

“Panicked fool! Retreat! I don’t carry a head to be struck down by blades driven by personal spite! Retreat! Retreat! Retreat!”

They shouted and twisted aside, but Mishima’s desperate blade—charged with oppressive ferocity—struck toward Tsushima-no-kami’s shoulder. Yet it lasted but an instant. A black shadow leapt from the flank like a bullet and parried Mishima Saburōbei’s murderous blade in the nick of time—a brilliant technique! With a flash, he cut the assailant down where he stood. The hooded rescuer’s face remained unrecognizable.

The black shadow then ran to the right and slew another assassin with a single stroke. In that moment, Tachi cut down one foe, Yamamura another, while the remaining attendants dispatched the last four—until the gravel of the square became a gruesome sea of blood.

Tsushima-no-kami stood composed, his gaze never wavering from the rescuer’s black-clad form. Yet at length, he gave a nod.

“Michiya.”

When he muttered this, the rescuer swept off his hood and pressed his hand against the gravel.—It was indeed that Michiya. Collapsing as if crumbling, he prostrated himself, and Michiya’s voice leapt with joy as he spoke. “Your safety is my greatest relief…”

A fleeting smile welled up on Tsushima-no-kami’s face. But it lasted only an instant. A suddenly transformed, rough voice rang out.

“Unsightly! Retreat! I’ll not accept protection from one with no ties to me. Go!”

“Then—then—even if I were to apologize this profoundly—it was this unworthy one who sent the throwing dagger missive to urgently inform you. Though I humbly believed I was protecting you from the shadows… but… no matter what—”

“I know not! Go!”

“There is no alternative!...”

With a swift draw of his short sword, Michiya’s hand plunged into his abdomen.
At that moment.
Tsushima-no-kami’s thunderous shout rang out even more fiercely.

“You fool!”
“Do you not grasp what lies beyond words?”
“There are those forbidden to die—and those compelled to.”

Then his voice abruptly fell as he uttered:

“The infant shall become fatherless.”
“Make haste!”

“So that is how it must be!”
“So that is how it must be!”

Michiya’s tears fell scattered like a passing shower upon the blood-scented gravel.

Gazing intently, Tsushima-no-kami hurriedly suppressed a smile that had begun to form and hastily put on his glasses.

Startled while prostrating themselves, the assembled samurai retainers made a new discovery at that moment.
They had thought His Lordship’s glasses served only to discern the undercurrents of their age and survey matters beyond the seas, yet now they learned for the first time that these spectacles also fulfilled the purpose of concealing tears of human emotion.

At that moment, it seemed some lord had come to the castle, for from far within the castle grounds, the deep booming of the castle drum announcing his arrival resounded.