Pathway to Japanese Literature

The 100,000 Koku Ghost Story

I

Phosphorescent fire!

The moonlight resembled nothing so much as bluish-white phosphorescent flames burning in the dark.
The bluish-white moonlight poured down in a cascade across every sliding door of the study hall—a night that made one feel a spine-chilling cold creeping up the back of one’s neck.

There wasn't even a whisper of wind...

There was no birdsong.

Nihonmatsu Castle’s 100,000 koku domain lay dissolved in an eerie stillness within that unnaturally sharp moonlight.
Lord Niwa Nagakuni, leaning both elbows on the armrest like a statue, had been sitting upright in the faint white darkness of the inner study where he'd deliberately ordered the lights extinguished—for nearly an hour now—listening motionlessly to that moonlight pouring down.
He wasn’t staring at it.
To say he was listening with his very soul would be more accurate.
Out of concern for any emergency, only four men had been stationed at the honorable guard posts.
They were all his favored close retainers—Hayashida Monnana, Nagai Saburō, Ishikawa Rokushirō, and Tatara Hanbee.

There were no voices…

There were no words…

The five silhouettes of lord and retainers remained motionless, seated in silence like dolls, all the while the moonlight merely continued to pour down in a relentless cascade.
—the instant it seemed.

“Hah hah hah hah…”

Suddenly, Nagakuni let out a strained laugh.

“Ha ha ha… Ha ha ha ha.”

Yet the four close attendants showed no trace of surprise; they remained motionless as that eerie laughter—resonating sharply—was absorbed into the cavernous darkness and silence deep within the castle. For they understood their lord’s innermost thoughts all too well. Surely it must have been unbearably bothersome. Though His Lordship had long since resolved his determination to support Lord Aizu, it must have grown wearisome—these senior retainers endlessly convening pointless domain councils day after day, night after night, forever carping about preserving the domain’s honor or avoiding imperial condemnation, their every proposal amounting to nothing but currying favor with the Satsuma-Chōshū faction.

—At last, Nagakuni spat out.

“I might as well become a masterless rōnin at this point.
“This 100,000 koku domain has grown intolerably vexing.
“It’s precisely because I’m shackled by being merely a castle lord—merely a domain holder—that I cannot act as I please.”
“And speaking of which—Lord Higo-no-kami! No, Lord Aizu Chūjō! He stands foremost among the Tokugawa clan as their most splendid noble!”
“Even the Three Houses now grovel before Satsuma-Chōshū’s whims, becoming standard-bearers for the Edo Expeditionary Force in recent days.”
“That your lordship—not yet thirty—would resolve to fight until Wakamatsu Castle is reduced to its last stone! Merely contemplating such noble resolve makes my heart soar with exhilaration.”
“Hear me!”
“Hayashida!”
“What say you all?”

“There is simply no other way to express it than to say Your Lordship’s valor stands preeminent in its splendor.”
“It would be like trying to brace with one’s own body a great boulder rolling down from a mountain’s peak.”
“To give it a push downward is work even a three-year-old child might manage—but to prop it up and hold it back demands a man of such steadfast resolve that none could ever hope to emulate Your Lordship.”
“Shall we call it heroic or tragic? The measure of Your Lordship’s determination verges on the profoundly pitiable.”

“Just so.
“Just so.”
“This Nagakuni says the same.”
“Loyalty to the Emperor! Righteous causes! Reverence for the Throne! Any scoundrel can become a thief of the realm under such fine banners—that’s what I despise!”
“It’s precisely because I detest them that I wished to offer Lord Katamori at least a parting gift—so where’s the harm in ordering reinforcements to Aizu?”
“Now, Nagai!
“Ishikawa!”
"Growing old must be a wretched thing indeed!"

“As Your Lordship commands.”
“While it goes without saying for us, even among those throughout the domain—the young samurai are all impatiently awaiting reinforcements to Aizu today or tomorrow—yet your elders remain remarkably composed.”

“Exactly!
No—not like that!
They claim that dithering about like this—not doing this or that—is prudence!
What will you do if Aizu Castle falls while we dawdle?!
You fools!
Even if you grovel in submission, this 100,000 koku domain will still be snatched by Satsuma-Chōshū!
We need none of that!
No—I want to show some backbone!
Nagakuni only wishes to uphold a samurai’s resolve!
How could I abandon a commander as splendid as Lord Aizu Chūjō?!
You fools!
Well?!
Answer me!
Old men—what a maddening lot you are!”

While muttering curses, Nagakuni writhed repeatedly atop the armrest.
Indeed, it must have been exasperating once again.
"Other matters might be left to your discretion, my lord, but this alone cannot be settled by your lordship's sole judgment.
The illustrious house name of Mikawa goes without saying, but as we stand at the precipice where a single misstep would brand us enemies of the court for generations to come, we humbly request Your Lordship to refrain until the domain council reaches a decision."

With those words, the senior retainers dismissed their lord Nagakuni and began debating whether to send reinforcements to Aizu—and now three full days had passed.
—It had been exactly six days since Aizu Chūjō Matsudaira Katamori, enraged by the Satsuma-Chōshū faction’s relentless Edo Expeditionary Force, barricaded himself alone in the isolated Wakamatsu Castle to stubbornly resist their tyranny and brutality.
Of course, that punitive force—with Ōgaki and Chikushi domains’ 100,000 men as vanguard—had already departed Edo, flaunting this world’s spring beneath their brocade banners.
Whether one turned right or left, the matter was urgent.

The moon was blue….

The late-rising moon of spring in Keiō 4’s fourth year cast its phosphorescent glow over Nihonmatsu’s 100,000-koku domain in Mutsu, painting everything in a single hue—a will-o’-the-wisp blue-white.

“Ahahahaha…”

Nagakuni, as if entranced, was gazing fixedly at the moonlight scattered across the paper doors when he suddenly laughed in a strained manner and said—

“You fools!
“Ahahahaha…
“Look!
“Look!
“Look at that color! It’s just like will-o’-the-wisp!
“It’s like the will-o’-the-wisp that’ll drag this castle of Nihonmatsu down to hell, hahahahaha…”

The voice vanished as if being sucked away, and soon the castle fell utterly silent once more.

Just when it seemed so—suddenly, with an eerie squeak—the nightingale floors in the Shoin corridor creaked ominously.

“Monnana!”

“Saburō!”

“Ishikawa!”

“Tatara!”

As glances darted between faces like shouted names, the attendants simultaneously gripped the short swords at their sides—for it was an undeniable fact that imperial spies had infiltrated castle towns from Taira, Tanakura, Fukushima, Sendai, and Yonezawa all the way to distant southern Akita, investigating whether they would submit or send reinforcements to Aizu.

Four sword collars clicked sharply as they were gripped and drawn in unison.

Yet it was strange.
It was those very nightingale floors—which the domain’s carpenter Manpei had certified that no ninja, however skilled in stealth techniques, could ever traverse unscathed.
Yet after that, no further sound was heard.

Just when it seemed so—it squeaked again with a shrill creak.

At the same time—a shadow!

From the streaming moonlight upon the shoji doors’ surface, a black human shadow suddenly emerged. Two or three strands of disheveled hair fell across that slender face as it hung listlessly—standing motionless in the pale glow like a legless specter.

“W-Who’s there?!”

“Who goes there?!”

As Monnana and Saburō rushed forward with shouts and threw open the shoji doors from both sides in an instant—the shadow crumpled to its knees with a muffled thud and spoke in a fading voice.

“I humbly apologize for my tardiness...”

II

“—!”

“—!”

In unison, their eyes burned with suspicion as they watched the source of the shadow and voice.

But their intense gaze didn’t last even two instants.
Lord Nagakuni’s voice trembled with shock and delight as it flew toward the shadow in the moonlight.

“Oh!
“You!”
“Namino!”
“Chinosuke, isn’t it!”

“Hah….”
“I humbly apologize for my tardiness…”

“You’re quite the spirited one.
"You gave this Niwa Nagakuni quite the fright."
“Wahaha!”
“I thought you’d gotten lost crawling out of a well!”
“Come.”
“Come.”
“I’ve been waiting.”
“Quickly, come here!”

“Hah….”
“I will come…”
“I shall proceed there at once…”

For some reason, answering in a voice as feeble as the shadow he had cast when entering, it was Namino Chinosuke—the same favored attendant—who nervously advanced toward his lord.
However, it was at the very moment he took his seat.
Strangely enough, that Chinosuke—without restraint before his liege—suddenly choked back his voice and stifled a faint sob.

“What! You’re crying!”
“What’s wrong? I can’t fathom you!”
“What could possibly be sad?!”

“—”

“Hey!
“Out with it!
“What are you crying for?!”

“N-No, that’s… I-I didn’t cry.”
“I beg your forgiveness for my blunder.”
“It’s just that I’ve caught a bit of a cold, so my nose—my nose got stuffed up…”

“Don’t lie!”

Nagakuni was not one to believe such a transparent excuse.
From the face that had thrust itself forward before the armrest, the interrogating voice pressed toward Chinosuke as he hung his head.

“Out with it!
“Out with it!”
“Hey!
“No need for reserve!”
“If there’s anything sorrowful, out with all of it!”

“—”

“You’re a creepy one, huh.
“Why won’t you speak?”
“Now that you mention it, there did seem something amiss about your demeanor when you arrived.”
“Though a messenger for urgent attendance should have gone to your residence along with Hayashida and all the others, you alone arriving late in this manner is another seed of suspicion.”
“Hey!
“There must be some reason.”
“Out with it! Don’t hold back!”

“No, um, my lord!”

Swiftly snatching it away from Chinosuke’s grasp from the side—perhaps because he knew all its secrets—Hayashida Monnana spoke as if to intercede before his lord.

“If it’s about this man’s matter, please disregard it.”
“Chinosuke’s crying has become a habit of late.”
“Rather than that, how about having the lamps lit now?”

“What? Lamps?
“Hmm… —No—wait, wait.”
“Precisely because it’s dark that our spirits sharpen—that’s why I can endure these interminable councils of old men.”
“Forget it, forget it.”
“But I’m still concerned about Chinosuke.”
“Hey!
“Namino!”
“What’s wrong?”
“Out with it!”

“No, um, my lord—”

Again, Monnana hurriedly interrupted and spoke as if shielding Chinosuke.

“There is nothing.”
“There is nothing to tell.”
“Has melancholia possessed him when he gazes at the moon—that’s how it is.”
“That fool—whenever he looks at the moon, he snivels away like this. It’s an illness that’s plagued him of late, so please overlook it.”
“Rather than that—”

“Ah ha ha…”

It was less a sudden shift than an uncanny transformation. Abruptly bursting into laughter only to cut it off just as sharply—as if discarding the sound—Nagakuni muttered while gazing at the distant sky and fumbling through some contemplation.

"Ah... the moon."
"Using the moon as an excuse, are we?"
"No—no, no."
"It's an age of chaos."
"When chaos reigns, one or two young samurai weeping at the moon might well appear."
"Ah ha ha..."
"Come to think of it, that blasted moon's begun shining even more eerily.—Hey!"
"You lot!"

It was sudden.
He heaved himself up from the armrest and, as if adjusting his collar, abruptly declared:

“We shall hold a ghost story session!”
“Now!”
“We must keep our nerves taut!”
“Let us commence the tales this very moment!”

“……？”

“—!”

“Ha ha ha….”

All of them were tilting their heads in puzzlement.
Nagakuni had suddenly become agitated.
Seeing that no messengers had yet come from the great hall, it appeared the old men were still engaged in their interminable council.
They were such long-winded bastards.
This was maddening.
“Hey!
How about it?
Let us hear a couple of chilling ghost stories!”

“—!”

“……?”

“Still tilting their heads suspiciously like that.”
“Do you not comprehend Nagakuni’s heart?!”
“Just think!
Even as we linger here tonight beyond one mountain in Aizu—they must all be desperately preparing for siege to make their final stand in martial valor.”
“No—His Lordship Katamori must also be striving day and night without rest—without a moment’s lapse in vigilance—to fulfill his noble ambition! Even as I humbly surmise his resolve from afar—Nagakuni cannot remain idle.”
“At least through ghost stories—I wish to steel my heart and keep my spirit taut.”
“Surely someone among you has one or two eerie tales at the ready.”
“Speak freely now.”

“That is indeed an excellent notion, my lord.”
“Should they be false ghost stories, far from steeling our resolve, they would undoubtedly chill us to our marrow.”
“In that case, this humble one shall—”

At last appearing to grasp their lord’s innermost thoughts, it was Ishikawa Rokushirou who leaned forward from his knees.

“Though one might call it commonplace, I possess a ghost story preserved through generations of my house that I would most humbly relate.”

“Oh ho! You’ve made quite the grand claim about this family heirloom of yours.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“Let’s hear it.”
Suddenly, an ominous gloom descended, and even before hearing it, the napes of their necks grew cold.
“If you stay apart, the mood won’t settle.”
“Come, come.”
“All of you—stealthily draw near and form a tight circle around me.”

In the dimly lit study hall, black shadows moved quietly as the close attendants shuffled closer on their knees.
Chinosuke, shrouded in thick mystery, also timidly shuffled forward on his knees after the others.
However, he remained slumped dejectedly.—While hanging his head, he desperately stifled his voice and let out a faint sob.

“Stop it, I said!”

As if responding to those words, Hayashida hastily—and sharply—yanked his sleeve in admonishment.

Indeed, Monnana knew Chinosuke’s secret through and through.

“Now then—let’s hear it.”

“Yes, my lord…”

A cold night wind rustled the black shadows that had collectively held their breath in silence, then swept over the surface of the shoji screens dyed in pale blue moonlight with a single swift caress.

And then from those six black shadows, a solemn, deep storytelling voice whispered through.

“—It is a story I heard from my late father some years ago.”
"As you are aware, my late father humbly practiced iaijutsu to some small degree—but this tale concerns a ghost story involving the very master from whom he learned that art of the quick-draw."
“The master in question was Akahori Densai of Sendai Domain—though of course this was during Master Akahori’s younger days when my late father received instruction—but the ghostly matter occurred much later."
"For he was said to be unmatched in iaijutsu from Edo northward, taking great pride in this himself—but it was a dreary midnight with steady drizzling rain, or so I’ve heard."
“For some reason—the left shoulder hurt…”
“No—it began aching suddenly in the night’s depths until he could bear it no longer, so I’ve heard."
"If it had been the right shoulder, given his martial calling, there’d have been nothing strange—but the left’s affliction roused suspicion. Just then came a mournful flute sound—‘Pii... pii...’—as a masseur passed by playing thusly."
"Seizing this timely chance, he summoned [the masseur] unsuspectingly—only to find something amiss."
“He has no eyes!”
“No—being a masseur, sealed eyes are expected—but his face shone smooth and white as an eggshell, and he was but a child of twelve or thirteen."
“Thus Master Akahori doubted—‘Can a child ease this shoulder?’—whereupon the pale-faced boy smiled faintly: ‘This much I can manage.’ When fingertips brushed [the shoulder]..."
"It stabbed like a blade’s thrust—so I’ve heard."
"Stranger still was his technique."
“Though claiming left shoulder pain, he kept targeting the right—poke after poke."
“Truly befitting a martial artist."
"That right shoulder being needled thus holds crucial importance—not just for iaijutsu but all martial training—a vital point known to adepts."

“Even though there was no reason to do so—to think this brat would target that vital point!—he thought, and when he casually glanced at the child, what do you suppose happened!”
“It is said that over the featureless white face of that child, another eerie adult face appeared to overlap—so I’ve heard.”
“Moreover, it is said that when he casually glimpsed those overlapping faces, he recalled.”
“About ten years prior, while traveling, he had wished to test his prized iaijutsu and cleanly sliced down a passing man of unknown origin—and here was that very man’s face before him! So he’s come at last!—so I’ve heard.”
No sooner had he sensed movement than he drew and cut—a truly splendid swift technique, so I’ve heard.
“However, strange to say, though there should have been the definite resistance of striking true, the child slipped away aiming for the kitchen—so when he immediately gave chase, what followed was truly eerie indeed, so I’ve heard.”
“The back door that shouldn’t have been open was ajar, and he vanished into the rain as if erased, leaving no trace—so growing suspicious, he searched everywhere when suddenly there came a splash from the water jar by the sink. Casually peering inside, he found the water swirling on its own—so I’ve heard.”
“Not only that, but from the whirlpool abruptly emerged the face of the child masseur’s father—so I’ve heard.”
“The face of that man—slain during his travels, of unknown origin or identity—was a deathly visage, so I’ve heard.”
With eyes tightly shut and white teeth bared, that deathly visage peered out from the whirlpool—so I’ve heard.
“No—no sooner had he peered in than it vanished in an instant, and at the same moment there came a loud thud of something collapsing in the rain outside. Even the stalwart Master Akahori was startled, and when he fearfully checked, the child masseur was indeed there—so I’ve heard.”
“Having received a splendid reverse kesa cut from an iaijutsu strike, he collapsed with barely a breath left—so I’ve heard.”

“Hmm.”
“Indeed.”

With a groan-like sigh, Nagakuni raised his face and said earnestly,

“That’s an eerie tale.”
“So the child masseur did indeed come to avenge his parent, then.”

“Yes, that is indeed correct.”
“A spirit—indeed, it was unquestionably a spirit.”
“Guided by his parent’s spirit, [the child] came for vengeance—but Master Akahori, renowned for his martial prowess, could never be felled by ordinary means. Thus [the child] sought first to disable his right arm’s vital point using the massage techniques he had learned, intending afterward to strike the final blow—yet Master Akahori swiftly saw through this ploy, resulting in a gruesome counterattack, so I’ve heard.”

“Truly, a tale with savor.”
“And then what became of Akahori?”

“It is most peculiar—so I’ve heard.”
“From then on, every time he peered into the water jar, his father’s deathly visage would always float up before him—and so in the end, he went mad and died because of it—so I’ve heard.”

“That would be so.
“Nay—I find myself increasingly engaged by these tales.
“Who shall speak next?
“Surely someone among you has a story prepared.
“Let us hear it!”

“…………”

“There’s no response.”
“What about Tatara?”

“Though I had prepared—”

“Do you mean none remain? Nagai! What of you?”

“I myself have not a single—”

“You bunglers!”
“Then Hayashida!”
“You must have one.”
“Well?”
“Don’t you have one?”

“No, that’s—”

“You have one!”

“Yes, my lord!”
“There is indeed such a tale, but…”

Hesitatingly, Hayashida began to say—

“Don’t say it! Monnana!”
“Monnana!”

It was truly bizarre.

Chinosuke, who until then had been slumped dejectedly with his head hung low, suddenly raised his face and sharply interrupted, his voice quivering as though terrified of something.

“Don’t speak of it!”
“Stop it!”
“Stop it!”
“Don’t speak of that!”
“Stop talking!”

III

“What!”
“You’ve uttered strange words.”
“What means this?!”
“What means this?!”

Naturally, Nagakuni pressed with growing suspicion.

"What do you mean by 'Stop'?!"
"What manner of story is this?"
"And why does Chinosuke obstruct us again?"

“…………”

“Now, Hayashida.
There seems to be more to this.
I must hear it out!
What in the world is happening here?”

“No, actually, that’s—”

“I implore you not to speak of it!
Why would you say that?!”

the sight of Chinosuke restraining him with uncharacteristic severity,

“Hold! Namino!”

Nagakuni sternly scolded and said.

“You’re a creepy fellow, I say!”
“You’ve done nothing but act suspiciously tonight.”
“It’s not you I’m questioning.”
“Monnana!”
“Hayashida!”
“By your lord’s command!”
“Speak!”

“Yes, my lord!”
“As it is by your lordship’s command and decree, I have no choice but to comply.”
“It’s no wonder Chinosuke harshly scolded me—in truth, it was because Namino and I heard this ghost story from someone some time ago, just the two of us.”
“At that time, the storyteller warned us—if anyone carelessly tells this ghost story hereafter, either calamity will befall the teller or misfortune will visit the listener; in any case, some strange curse is sure to afflict both parties without fail—and with that, he pressed upon us this ominous caution.”
“It is because Chinosuke feared that and entreated me to stop.”

“Ha ha ha! What nonsense do you spout? You two are famed hot-blooded warriors even within Nihonmatsu’s 100,000-koku domain! What purpose does cowering before baseless tales serve? I care not who first told it—what became of that storyteller? Did any curse strike them for speaking?”

“No, there is not.”

“There, you see! If the storyteller remains unharmed and you listeners have stayed safe thus far, what could there possibly be to fear!”

Nagakuni grew desperate to hear it—even at the cost of his domain’s 100,000 koku.
“No—I command this by my authority as lord!
Tell that ghost story!”

“Yes, my lord!”
“Since it is by your lordship’s command, I shall speak.”
“The story goes thus—”

“Won’t you stop! Monnana! I won’t acknowledge it! I won’t acknowledge it! Even if there’s a curse, I won’t acknowledge it!”

“I don’t care! If there’s a curse, I’ll take it on. Somehow I suddenly wanted to tell it. Ha ha ha…. Lord! It is a most dreadful tale, my lord! Pray, listen well to this tale.”

Chinosuke’s trembling-voiced attempt to stop him—as if possessed by a vengeful spirit—was rebuffed by Hayashida, who continued speaking with equal spectral fervor.

“The story goes like this.”
“This tale occurred just this past winter’s end—here in Nihonmatsu’s castle town itself—but they say it was encountered by an itinerant monk.”
“He must have been a wandering monk still in training.”
“It happened at twilight during heavy snowfall.”
“Though he could have stayed at Matsukawa Inn, perhaps believing night travel was part of his ascetic practice, he trudged through the snow toward Nihonmatsu. As he neared the Abukuma River’s banks where the road forks—a stone’s throw from the castle town—and casually turned toward the cliffside path, a young woman was said to have darted before his eyes.”
“Startled yet seasoned by travel, he peered through the snow-lit gloom to better see her—and what do you suppose he found?”
“From beneath disheveled hair hanging in wild strands came a cackle—barefoot, shins exposed as she stood at the cliff’s edge staring into the ravine—then before anyone could stop her or cry out, she leapt and vanished.”
“Then came true calamity—for being a monk.”
“Tormented by having failed to save even one life, even after lodging in the castle town he fixated on this failure—when suddenly townsfolk began bustling restlessly about the inn. Investigating discreetly revealed an uncanny connection.”
“The young mistress of his lodgings had vanished near dusk—and when they compared descriptions, she perfectly matched the cliff-jumping woman. This sparked uproar from the monk’s account—promptly another leaped down, and a corpse was hauled from the ravine.”
“Examination confirmed it was indeed the mistress.”
“Seeking to atone through posthumous rites, he inquired into her suicide’s cause—yet her husband claimed no conceivable motive.”
“‘There must be one,’ he insisted.”
“When pressed relentlessly, strange details emerged.”
“Ten days before her death, she’d bought chirimen bedding from a secondhand shop—after sleeping in it, she suffered ominous nightmares nightly and began raving madly. There you have it.”
“‘Surely then,’ he reasoned—being a monk—they removed and inspected the bedding thoroughly... yet found nothing amiss.”
“‘With no cause for madness or suicide,’ he peeled back each layer—and shuddered.”
“Even I recounting this now shudder.”
“From within a secondhand futon’s cotton—precisely where the pillow lay—teeth emerged.”
“Human teeth—from one who never spoke—two teeth appeared.”

“What?!”
“Two teeth, you say?!”
“Teeth, you say?!”
“Human teeth, you say?!”
……”

Startled as if doused with cold water, Nagakuni's voice trembled and turned shrill.

Like ghost fire, the moonlight that had been blazing blue suddenly darkened.—Simultaneously.
As if bearing urgent news, a set of footsteps approached down the shoin corridor while squeaking the nightingale floors—then a voice spoke up in a deferential tone.

“The Sekai-damned tea attendant humbly reports.”
“The esteemed senior retainers wish to petition you, my lord.”
“Having engaged in nothing but debate without a wink of sleep these three days, we have lost all human composure and no sound strategies come to mind—therefore, though it is truly presumptuous to make such a selfish request that gives great offense, if you would but grant us a brief moment’s rest, we shall without fail bring this domain council to resolution afterward—thus we most humbly beg your indulgence for this short reprieve.”

“What are you saying?! Time and again, these insolent old men! If they retained the true spirit of warriors, they would understand without three days of sleepless debate! You wretched fools! Tell them to do as they damn well please!”

It was a shrill yet dignified voice.
He kicked off the bedding and stood up abruptly, then said irritably.

“I shall sleep as well!”
“How I resent being born a castle lord!”
“I shall sleep!”
“Who attends tonight’s night duty?”
“Make haste and attend me!”

After the footsteps had roughly faded away, the night-duty attendants Nagai Daizaburo and Ishikawa Rokushiro followed after as if to protect him.

Chinosuke, who had been bowing deeply and watching them leave while shrouded in thick mystery, let out a sigh of relief as he raised his face—then, for some reason, even broke into a bright smile before suddenly standing up with renewed vigor.
Of course, he could now return to the retainers’ quarters and spend the night at ease.
Tatara and Hayashida, too, were now bodies that had outlived their purpose.
Eventually, three shadows appeared in the castle’s plaza, walking silently shoulder to shoulder.

As if timed in unison, moonlight grazed the castle keep from Kannonzan's peak and suddenly cascaded over the three shadows again.

The light spilled even onto the moat’s water surface, and Nihonmatsu’s 100,000-koku Kasumigajo Castle was entirely dyed a single shade of blue.

The three shadows wove their way through that blue expanse, walking in silence toward the longhouse beside the Second Moat.

“Well then—”

“Oh, again—”

Tatara—whose quarters stood apart—would go right; Monnana and Chinosuke—whose quarters lay adjacent—would go left; such was the route where their paths diverged from the lookout pine.

Having split into two shadows, Chinosuke and Monnana walked silently for about three steps. However, just as they were about to take that fourth step, Monnana suddenly sneered at Chinosuke.

“You fool!”

“What?!”

“Did that make you angry?”

“Anyone would get angry if suddenly called a fool.”
“Why am I a fool?”

“Because you’re acting like a woman.”
“What was that display before His Lordship about?”
“His Lordship has noticed why you wept.”
“He must have made some meaningful remark back then too.”
“You should at least understand that enigmatic comment he made—about how even if times turn turbulent, there may well emerge one or two young samurai weeping while gazing at the moon.”
“Make no mistake—he’s already taken notice.”

“You’re the fool!”
“This heart I’ve revealed to no one—how could you possibly comprehend it?!”
“In the first place, even you who spout such things shouldn’t know of it!”

“But crystal clear—”

“Do you claim to know?!”

“Clear as a mirror, I tell you!”
“I know full well.”
“That’s exactly why I made that request earlier.”
“If you doubt me, shall I make you hear it?”

“Let’s hear it!
“Go on—say it!”
“Do you truly know? I’ll make you tell me!”
“Go on—say it!”

“Not going to say it?
“Don’t feel ashamed when I hit the mark.”
“The root of your womanishness lies entirely with your wife.”
“That young, beautiful beloved wife you just wedded—she’s the source of your tears!”
“Well?”
“Am I wrong?!”

“—!”

To Chinosuke's silhouette—which had fallen silent as if startled by a direct hit to his weak spot—Monnana bore down with scornful laughter as he spoke.

“Look here! Ah ha ha….”
“A splendid hit—it must have struck true!”
“I’ll laugh at you!”
“Ha ha ha!”
“I’ll laugh at you!”
“You sentimental wretch!”
“If the matter of honorable Aizu reinforcements were decided, you’d have to march out tonight—so you must’ve sniveled and wept over the pain of leaving her behind!”
“How about that!”
“Got you there, haven’t I?!”

“…………”

“You seem beaten.”
“You sentimental fool!”
“It’s just a woman.”
“To be dragged back by a woman’s love and forget a warrior’s true purpose—what is the meaning of this?!”
“I’m sick of your sentimentality.”

“No—wait!”

“What?”

“You call her 'merely a woman'—I cannot dismiss what I’ve heard!”
“Indeed, it’s exactly as you’ve struck the mark.”
“It’s true I wept thinking what I’d do if the deployment were decided, but my—no—the bond between me and her is different from others’!”

“Did you say it?”
“I’ve been waiting for you to say exactly that, I tell you.”
“Then to wake you from this deluded dream—I’ll make you smell something.”
“Don’t go acting shocked now.”

It was indeed a laugh of ghastly allure that never rose above a whisper.
As if he had been biding his time for this very moment, Monnana suddenly grinned sharply—and thrust his left sleeve beneath Chinosuke’s nose.

“Take a whiff!”
“Even that beloved wife you swore mutual vows with—this sleeve reeks of the proof that women are fiends!”
“Go on—smell it proper!”

“……?”

“Well?!
“How’s that?!
“Catch my meaning now?!”

“Ah!
“This scent is unmistakably—!”

“That’s right!”
“The scent of that woman’s hair oil—the one you boasted about as your beloved wife.”
“Heh heh.”
“Has your deluded dream shattered?”

“Wh-what—what’s the meaning of this?!”
“What does this scent clinging to your sleeve signify?!”
“Wh-what are you implying?!”

“It’s nothing.
“That unforgettable evening.
“When there came an urgent summons from the Lord, I went to fetch you—but you were out somewhere.
“So I was about to leave when she—your wife—called out in embarrassment about her sleeve, and when I looked, sure enough it was torn.
“While her gentle hand was mending it for me, who can say who started what followed—the rest is better left unsaid.
“If I tell you her hair oil has soaked into this very sleeve here, you can piece it together yourself.
“How about that!
“Chinosuke!
“Has your clinging dream shattered now?!”

“What?!
“You and… that one—!”
“That one… and you—!”
“……!”

His body shook; his voice wouldn’t hold.
His eyes.
Eyes.
Bloodshot eyes darted wildly through the blue-white moonlight.

IV

Of course, the place Chinosuke had rushed into was that very row house quarters.

“Are you here?!”

“……”

“Where are you?!”

“……”

“Where are you?!”

He tried to scream, but no sound emerged.
Trembling through every limb, lips quivering as he leapt inside—what Chinosuke’s bloodshot eyes captured clear as day was his wife’s figure sitting with back turned, bathed in the dim glow of an oil lamp.

Her hair was disheveled!

The sewing box was right there beside her!

“Y-you adulterous wench!”

The scream and the sword draw came simultaneously.—With a schick, blood sprayed upward in a mist, and his young, beautiful wife, without even a moment to exchange a single word, toppled forward facedown.

Still clutching the bloodied sword, Chinosuke dashed toward the adjacent row house where Hayashida Monnana lived; without uttering a word, he burst inside—and there, spotting Monnana—whom he had just parted from—kneeling upright as he added oil to a lamp, swung the blade down upon him.

“Y-you adulterer!”

The curse and the slash came simultaneously.
With a clean slash, the keen blade severed that hateful yet alluring sleeve along with the left arm at its shoulder joint.
——But it was an instant.
Hayashida Monnana was no ordinary man.
Even as his left arm was severed, with just his right hand he drew out his sword in an instant—that single stroke sank deep into Chinosuke’s side.

And then he said.
He exclaimed in surprise.

“Oh! Chinosuke! I thought it was someone else, but it was you!”

“Y-you… How could it be you?! You thief of my wife—you unscrupulous wretch! Have you tasted Chinosuke’s grudge-edged steel?!”

“S-so it’s true! Then—then you actually believed that tale to be real?!”

“What?! A—a lie?! Are you claiming it’s a lie?!”

“A lie! A lie! A blazing red lie! Why would that virtuous woman play such tricks?! Having her mend your torn sleeve was true enough, but all else was pure fabrication!”

“What of the oil stain?! Explain the scent of oil on that sleeve!”

“I contrived it while she mended your garment—knowingly devised it all! Every bit meant to let you adorn a warrior’s honorable end! Lest she—being but a woman—might shame herself through base conduct... Lest you—a man of standing—might be disgraced by womanly weakness... I forged this lie to sever your lingering attachments!”

“So it’s true! So that was it! What a grave mistake I’ve made! To have cut her down… What a grave mistake I’ve made…”

“I have as well. This Monnana overstepped his bounds. On top of that, striking you down without realizing it was you—I too have made a grave mistake……”

As they lamented together, suddenly—echoing through the night-dark sky—the shrill wail of conch shell horns pierced the air.

Afterwards, the booming of war drums rose.—Simultaneously, as if to resound throughout every corner of the castle, shouted voices spread.

“To arms!
To arms!”

“The domain council has suddenly reached resolution, I say!”

“The matter of dispatching reinforcements to Aizu has been decided, I say!”

“To arms!”
“To arms!”

Lo and behold, the two wounded men unexpectedly exchanged glances and spoke.

“Chinosuke!”

“Monnana!”

“How bitter…”

“How regrettable…”

“If I’m to perish here, I would’ve wanted to die having fulfilled my true ambition…”

“That’s right—I would’ve wanted to be cut down in battle in some glorious way...”

“Forgive me.
“Forgive me.”

“Me too.
“Let’s at least see them off!”

“Alright, let’s go!”

Crawling toward each other from left and right, the two men—drenched in blood and stained crimson—clung tightly together as they embraced, staggering and stumbling until at last they emerged into the front garden.

At the same time, beyond where the two men gazed—within the distant plaza of Nihonmatsu Castle where moonlight scattered like fallen petals—the great contingent of domain soldiers, spearheaded by a cavalry unit, sounded war drums and blew conch shell horns skyward while hoisting two white banners high, advancing with a heavy crunch like a serpentine procession brimming with valor.

While looking down from the watchtower at this scene, the lord’s cheerfully rallying voice flowed through the moonlight—piercingly clear in its stark blue-white radiance—carrying across the night.

“Advance!”
“Advance!”
“Do not disgrace the name of Niwa Nagakuni!”

“Advance!”

“Advance!”

“Do not disgrace the name of Nihonmatsu samurai!”

“Advance!”

“Advance!”

As they listened, the two men spoke.

“His cherished ambition has been achieved, hasn’t it?”

“His Lordship looks pleased, hasn’t he?”

As he spoke, Monnana suddenly seemed to recall something, shuddering violently as he cried out:

“That’s it!
“Chinosuke!
“We’ve been cursed!
“This must be divine retribution for that ghost story we told!”

“Hey…”

Dejectedly drooping their heads, in the eyes of the two men as death’s throes closed in—under the blue-white moonlight, the two white banners flowing quietly onward appeared like two massive teeth…….