Pathway to Japanese Literature

The Fan Box Containing the Problem

1

“Now, there can be no impossibility in performing this duty.”

Tsuchiya Sagaminokami glared sharply at the two men.

“If one claims incompetence, then none could fulfill it.”
“As this is a once-in-a-lifetime duty, none come fully prepared.”
“All share equal inexperience.”
“Thus your plea to decline the Imperial Envoy Reception Duty for this reason holds no validity.”
“I insist you reconsider.”

However, it had become customary to accept only after pushing back once or twice.

It was the year before the Asano Incident.

On the third day of the third month of Genroku 13, Okabe Minonokami and Tachibana Izumonokami were summoned before Tsuchiya Sagaminokami in a room within Edo Castle.
Tsuchiya Sagaminokami was a Senior Councilor.

It had become customary that once a year, court nobles would descend from the Kyoto court to Edo to convey the Emperor’s political decrees to the shogunate.
During the imperial envoys’ stay in Edo, handling all arrangements fell to these reception officers.
Even though it was an annual event, in the Kanto region, it had been established that different daimyo would take turns serving each year.

Since it was their first time serving and since it was a major duty, the daimyos assigned to the Imperial Envoy Reception Duty were troubled.
They were anxious.
Even as a formality, they had wanted to decline.

For the Imperial Envoy Reception Duty, there were to be two officers appointed: a principal and a deputy.
When Tsuchiya Sagaminokami informed them that Okabe Minonokami had been assigned as principal officer and Tachibana Izumonokami as deputy for this Genroku 13th year’s Imperial Envoy Reception Duty, Izumonokami’s face turned pale.

“I humbly beg your pardon, but I am not well versed in handling court nobles.”
“Moreover, among my retainers are many provincial samurai. If I were to accept this important duty and some mishap were to occur, I would have no excuse to offer my superiors. Therefore, I must selfishly request that another be appointed instead.”

This had become the standard phrase everyone used once to decline the Imperial Envoy Reception Duty, as they did every year.
Sagaminokami had heard this all too many times before.

And this too, in this situation, were words that had been repeated every year—

“I must ask you to reconsider.”
“Since Lord Kira knows everything thoroughly, I should think there would be no difficulty if you were to consult him—but—”

With a bitter smile in his eye, he glanced briefly at Okabe Minonokami.
When told this, he could not say it was impossible to fulfill.

“If that is how it must be...”

It was a reluctant surrender.
Izumonokami had no choice but to accept.

“An honor beyond my worth—”

was said in a small voice.
Yet Okabe Minonokami, having received Sagaminokami’s gaze, twisted his mouth into a smirk.

“I accept.”
“I have no need to consult Lord Kira or anyone like him.”
“I intend to carry out this duty through my own steadfast resolve alone.”

With a heavy *thud*, he placed both hands on the tatami and bowed as if turning sideways.

2

Kira Uemonnosuke realized he had unconsciously taken a sip of chilled tea.
He wanted to spit it out but instead gulped it down and furrowed his brows.

“What is this—I’m asking you what this is—why do you not answer?”

A short distance away, Soda Magosaburō, the official in charge of public affairs, stroked the nape of his neck as he looked up at his master.

“As you can see, it is a fan box.”

“The fan box—I can see that.”
“What of this fan box?”

At Kira’s residence within Kajibashi, a single fan box sat unassumingly before Yoshihisa, his face set in a displeased expression.

It was a crude single-item container covered with Hachijō cloth, the kind used for New Year’s gifts or such.
It was an empty box containing a bamboo skewer that rattled when shaken.
Deemed valuable despite its appearance, it was a thing worth forty-five mon—fifty at most.

“Tachibana Izumo is the deputy officer.”
Kira’s eyes—black and glossy like lacquer—fluttered rapidly.
“Magosaburō… What might Izumo have sent us now—?”

“Yes.
Sugar-preserved melon, one bundle of sea bream, and other domestic products—”

“As for the sugar-preserved melon—did they say it was only this much?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Uemon raised a single index finger—it meant one hundred ryo. This was an unusual custom: hiding koban gold coins within exotic sugar-preserved melon confections to present as bribes. When it came to sugar-preserved melons, there existed an unspoken understanding between both giver and receiver—that a considerable amount of cash would be nestled among the sweets.

Magosaburō also nodded, flashing a single finger.

Pointing at the fan box with his chin, Kira groaned.

"What a pity."
"The deputy officer needn't go to such lengths."
"From Lord Okabe, the principal officer—just this single fan box... Heh heh heh. It must have a false bottom."
"Look."

Magosaburō took the box in hand and turned it over.

"It's merely a fan box—."

“The messenger?”

“It was a certain retainer.”
“He accepted it as though fleeing—”

“I’m listening to the message—the message.”

“The message states that—regarding Lord Okabe Minonokami’s recent appointment to the Imperial Envoy Reception Duty—he requests your esteemed guidance in navigating affairs within the shogunate—”

On Kira’s bony forehead, thick blue veins swelled up.

“Fine. He dares to mock this Lord Ueno.”

When his lips turned white, someone slid open the fusuma and slapped his head with an open palm.

“Heh, My Lord, just checking in on your mood.”

He was a small-goods merchant with back-gate access privileges. Hirano-ya Mokichi had come barging in.

“A major incident has occurred. Mokichi reporting urgent news! Well now, that girl we discussed—acting as a foot warmer, heh heh heh—please do enjoy her. My Lord, we’ve found one who’ll make you shudder just by looking at her.”

While recalling that he had asked Mokichi to arrange a new concubine, Kira, having no outlet for his unpleasant emotions, was berating Magosaburō.

“With just a single fan box… you expect me to navigate the shogunate’s protocols?”
“How presumptuous!”
“This concerns not the gift’s value.”
“But there exists proper order—order!”

Even Hiramo, who was trying to pass off his impertinence as jester-like charm, found himself daunted by Kira’s ashen face.

III

“It’s because our opponent is formidable that I’m concerned.”

Tatsuma, being an Edo-bred youth through and through, had taken on the air of a masterless samurai.

He sat cross-legged with knees splayed wide and leaned against the duty room wall.

Hisano Hikoshichi, who had delivered the fan box to Kira and returned to the residence; Kita Kyouzou, the storehouse official; and Tosumiken Hyoukurou, the finance magistrate—all remained silent.

Okabe Tatsuma was Okabe Minonokami’s younger brother.
He had branched off into a cadet family and idled about, but ever since his brother assumed the Imperial Envoy Reception Duty, he was stationed almost constantly at this residence.

Did I mess up? he wondered, forming his mouth into a frown as he looked around at the old men once more.

“Who told you to take a fan box? It’s practically mocking them! With all these seasoned elders gathered here—”

Kuno Hikoshichi was sweating.

“Good grief, what a fool’s errand that was.”
“I left that fan box there and scampered right back.”
“Honestly, I’m terrified of what’s to come.”
“You’re supposed to feed a hateful hawk—three hundred or five hundred of those sugar-preserved melons… They’re counting on it, you know.”

“Knowing all that, why didn’t you do it?”

“You know our lord’s temperament—”

Kita, the storehouse official, crossed his arms and let out a sigh.

Tosumiken leaned forward.

“We discreetly inquired with Lord Tachibana.”
“Since it’s a deputy position, they kept it private at a hundred ryō—apparently that’s roughly how it went.”

“Exactly.
“If the deputy position costs a hundred ryō, then naturally our house as the main duty would amount to five hundred.”
“And then you send a single fan box? You fools!”
“That bastard Kira must be fuming by now.”

The three were silent.

“I’ll go ask.”

Tatsuma pressed his hands on his knees and started to rise up.

“Wait—”

“Don’t stop me. Which matters more—the Kishiwada Domain of 53,000 koku or this trivial stubbornness of the moment? I’ll ask Brother myself.” When he began walking away, Kuno pursued him.

“However, our lord is already worked up, intending to pick a fight with Lord Kira—”

“Before that happens, I’ll have it out with Brother.”
“He could resolve this with money—but he won’t even think of the clan! What’s wrong with him?”
“I have my own plan.”
“Let go!”

Shaking free, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway and turned toward Minonokami’s sitting room.

Night Visitor

I

“Hiramo, is it?”
“You may proceed.”

As if saved by Kira’s voice, Magosaburō slid from his seat, and in his place, Hirano-ya Mokichi sat before Kira.

“I was astonished. Daruma faced the wall; my lord’s indomitable will—”

Smoothly stroking his face while prostrating,

“I know not what offense this concerns but humbly beg your pardon,”
“Through my success in finding a suitable woman I implore you to overlook this matter,”
“I beseech you to let this pass with laughter.”

Kira kept his long narrow face—resembling a worn straw sandal—rigidly erect; Hiramo’s words reached his ears yet found no purchase.

“Minonokami bastard—”

he muttered from his mouth’s corner.

As Master of Ceremonies, Kira served as intermediary to court nobles, acted as proxy for deities, knew the ancient rites of celestial petition officials, and was thoroughly versed in historical precedents and ceremonial practices.
A daimyo appointed to the Imperial Envoy Reception Duty found himself utterly helpless without Kira’s guidance.
Naturally, it had become customary each year for daimyos appointed to this duty to present Kira with bribes, and Kira himself had gradually come to anticipate approximately how much each would bring based on who was assigned the role this time.
Kira did not interpret the cash gifts hidden within the sugar-preserved melons as bribes.
He had led those around him to perceive these as proper tokens of gratitude—mere courtesies—for receiving his instruction.

Deputy Tachibana Izumonokami of Shitakata Domain in Ōshū with 30,000 koku had parted with a hundred ryō, so Kira had calculated that at least five hundred ryō would flow from the Okabe family—the main officer holding 53,000 koku—only to receive this single fan box.

“An insult.”
“A splendid challenge—”

Another muttered soliloquy escaped him.

*Hmm.*
*Even without consulting me, he means to show he can manage the Imperial Envoy Reception Duty.*
*Interesting.*
*Let him try.*
*This is no trifling matter.*
*This insolent treatment—a first.*

“My Lord.”

Hiramo noticed the fan box before him and reached out his hand.
"A most diverting item, this one.
"When the pine decorations come down, they come peeking out the back gate asking, 'Have you any fan boxes to dispose of?'
"They buy them up, return them to the box shop, and reuse them come next New Year—"

Kira stood up silently.
He placed the fan box on the rear staggered shelf and returned to his seating cushion.

“You did mention there was a fine one.”

“She has appeared.”

Seeing Kira as usual, Hiramo spread the hem of his haori and edged forward on his knees.

“I made inquiries everywhere, but this too must be fate.”
“No—a rare gem, a peerless beauty—even for a lord with a taste for exquisite dolls, if this one fails to please you, then I, Hiramo, must declare myself utterly unwilling to handle such consultations henceforth. What a tiresome preamble this is.”

“Hmm… What am I to do?”

Suddenly, Kira clenched both hands and looked down but immediately smiled palely,

“Minonokami? Minonokami? Hahaha—Very well! Bring her here—that woman.”

Two

Minonokami wrote the characters for "corrupt customs" in the air, only to erase them.

Lord Kōzuke-no-suke held 4,200 koku in Mikawa Kira Ōhama and occupied the rank of Junior Fourth Rank, Lower Grade precisely because he stood as the foremost authority on courtly rituals and ceremonies. And within his duties, there ought to have been included the obligation to look after daimyos unaccustomed to their roles during events like the Imperial Envoy Reception, ensuring they performed their tasks without oversight. Yet in recent years—both those giving and those receiving had become complacent—Minonokami perceived this as a manifestation of the increasingly lax shogunate administration and could not suppress his indignation.

On a personal level as well, Minonokami had long felt something unforgivable about that man Kira.

Being fully aware that Kira would continue hurling obstacles—administrative errors and inconveniences—one after another, Minonokami once again mentally inscribed the words "corrupt customs" and added "overthrow," writing them large in his heart as if lashing himself forward.

“Brother, are you in your chambers?”

A loud voice rang out as the veranda’s shoji slid open.
Tatsuma roughly stomped in.

He remained standing,

“Brother, listen! What’s the point in defying some tea-serving lackey for court nobles and destroying our ancestral house—?”

On one side of Minonokami’s upturned face, the candle stand’s flame—buffeted by the corridor wind Tatsuma had brought in—flickered with yellow breaths.

“Don’t play the wise man.”

Even as he spoke these words, the elder brother carried a certain weight befitting his status.
Along with his imposing stature, he was both a martial artist and a daimyo uncharacteristically versed in worldly affairs—the brother Tatsuma had always respected.

Precisely because of that, this recent trouble-seeking attitude struck him as all the more incomprehensible.

“If we don’t give what’s expected, he’ll play a nasty trick, Brother.”

With a heavy thud, he sat.

“He deliberately feeds false instructions to create complications in the ceremonial duties, then subtly presses for bribes—.”

“Demands for bribes are like preaching to a horse’s ears as far as I’m concerned.”
“It’s not that I’m doing nothing.”
“I ordered Kuno to deliver a forty-five-mon fan box.”

“He is the Master of Ceremonies.”
“You must at least somewhat conform to the customs—.”

Minonokami raised his voice loudly.

“I won’t rely on Kira.”

“Brother, do you know all the court protocols?”

“It’s not a boast—I know nothing.”
“However, there are precedents.”

“Even if precedents exist, there are times when they must change according to the circumstances.”

“Then I’ll handle it when that time comes.”

“What will you do if—by any chance—there’s a careless mistake?”

“I alone should take responsibility.”

“You alone cannot resolve this.
The clan—the Kishiwada Domain—”

“What’s this—acting the know-it-all!”
Raising his shoulders and closing in—.

Because Minonokami was being his usual composed self, Tatsuma grew increasingly agitated.

“Brother, you’ll let Kira provoke you into drawing your blade in the palace.”
“An assault—”

“Would I cut Kira down—?”
He laughed like a horse and said, “That’s absurd!”

“No, that will definitely happen.”
“Then Kishiwada’s fifty-three thousand—.”

“I won’t cut anyone down, don’t worry—I’m just going the opposite way.
“Hahaha—ha! In all matters—do the opposite of what Kira says.”

Clenching his teeth, Tatsuma sank into thought.

Minonokami, acting nonchalantly as if it were someone else’s affair, was watching his brother’s pained face with apparent curiosity.

Three

“No—our master too was made to weep by Lord Kira last year.”

Tago Gaiki was Kamei Notonokami’s Edo chief retainer.
Pushing up his tortoiseshell-framed glasses to his forehead, he fixed his faintly smiling gaze on Okabe Tatsuma.

“This year, Lord Okabe—your elder brother—is the Main Officer. And who might be the Deputy Officer?”

“Lord Tachibana.”

And so, Tatsuma—having come to visit Kamei’s residence late at night like this—had wanted to broach the crucial matter quickly.

Gaiki too, while speculating in various ways about the visitor’s business,

“Lord Tachibana Izumonokami—well, the Deputy Officer position is one thing, but as for the Main Officer... one can imagine.”

Tatsuma found himself at a loss for how to broach the very matter he had come to request.
And if he remained silent, Gaiki would continue on his own,

“It wears on one’s spirit, and the expenses are considerable.
“So even if you fulfill it without incident, it brings no more glory than being first to strike in battle. A once-in-a-lifetime honor, perhaps—but truthfully, it’s hardly something to be grateful for.”
“By the way—though it goes without saying that there’s likely no oversight in such matters—you have sent some form of gift to Lord Kira…?”

Tatsuma stiffened as the awaited topic arrived.

"My brother seems to have some plan in mind and insists that we absolutely must not send any gifts to Kira, so I am at a loss."

Gaiki jolted as if startled.

“That’s just like Lord Okabe.”
“But that won’t do.”
“That is dangerous.”

“Regarding that matter, actually—”

“The initial gift amount proved insufficient, you see.”
“My master too was thoroughly tormented by Lord Kira and nearly resorted to violence, but I belatedly delivered that sugar-preserved melon once more, hahahaha—!”

“I beg your pardon, but”
Tatsuma finally voiced his business.

“If you happen to have last year’s schedule for the Imperial Envoy on hand, I would like to borrow it briefly—.”

“That’s a trifling matter.”
“It should be available.”

Gaiki—as if having expected precisely this request—briskly shook a bell and summoned an attendant.

Four

As Kira glared with loathing at the broad-shouldered, brigand-like figure of Minonokami's back, Minonokami turned around.

When their eyes met, both stopped in their tracks and scrutinized each other intently. It was a war of gazes—as if they had each discovered some bizarre creature—interlaced with mockery and hostility. While looking Kira up and down, Minonokami puffed out his thick chest and approached.

In the castle corridor, the shadows of officials and monks bustling back and forth were bright against the walls.

“Lord Kira, I am incompetent at the Imperial Envoy Reception Duty. I leave it to you.”

Kira turned aside and muttered words better left unsaid in a low voice.

“If you’re so incompetent, why did you accept the duty?”

Minonokami challenged.

“This is outrageous! It was precisely because Lord Tsuchiya Sagaminokami added his words—stating that since you, Lord Kira, are the specialist in such matters, I should rely entirely on your instructions—that this one accepted this duty. Yet if you now find fault with this arrangement, this one shall henceforth report the matter to Lord Tsuchiya.”

Kira, without another word, quickly started walking away.
Minonokami’s voice chased after him.

“How far does the welcoming party go out?”

Before he could make Kira turn around, Minonokami patiently repeated the same question three or four times.

“Oh! Lord Minonokami. The other day’s splendid fan box—surely you must be joking when you claim ignorance about something as simple as the welcoming protocol.”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t ask.”
“I ask because I don’t know.”
“As far as Shinagawa?”

“Shinagawa is unnecessary.”
“You need only go as far as before Shiba Mitamaya.”

“In that case,”
Minonokami smiled broadly. “Then I shall welcome them all the way to Shinagawa.”
“I do seem to enjoy contradicting you, Lord Kira.”

In truth, of course, they were required to welcome the envoy all the way to Shinagawa.

“As you wish.”

Kira’s face flushed crimson, then turned ashen as he trembled subtly before turning his back on Minonokami.
But then, slowing his pace and glancing over his shoulder,
“You cannot possibly know the schedule for the Imperial and Court Envoys—”

Minonokami tilted his head.

“I don’t know. But this much I do know—on the day when the Imperial and Court Envoys arrive, the Senior Councilor dispatches the Master of Ceremonies along with their attendants. For the official audience: proceed to the castle. Regent Houses and Imperial Princes; Monzeki Temple Representatives; Envoys and Court Musicians; Three Artisan Groups Presenting Formal Thanks. Hereditary Vassals in Attendance; Officials Present Themselves. After the official audience concludes, items are bestowed. Before the banquet: the ritual viewing of Noh performances; the Three Tokugawa Houses; among the Two Guard Captains. For the official response: all court nobles and lower-ranking officials present themselves. Permission to retire is granted. All receive bestowed items. On the day of departure: Feast-Providing Daimyo report to the castle—”

Oh!
He thought while—

“That will suffice.”
“The schedule stands exactly as stated.”

“What? Is it just this much?”

Kira scowled.
However, they were in the palace grounds.
Restraining himself, he quickened his pace, leaving Minonokami’s mockery behind.

She changed her guise.

I

“Did you see it?”

Itoshige raised her pale face and looked at her husband.

Leaning against the decorative pillar, Tatsuma kept his eyes closed. He did not answer immediately.

A dusk like flowing water crept into Tatsuma’s quarters. The room craved lamplight.

“I saw it,” Tatsuma said at last. “Left it on the desk—”

“You wrote it on paper—”

“Hmm. Had Lord Togo make a copy. Showed it to me willingly enough.” His voice grew steadier. “The schedule hardly changes year to year—if Brother memorizes that outline, we’ll avoid major blunders.”

The husband and wife both let out a sigh of relief together. Itoshige smiled.

“Truly, the idea to inquire with Lord Kamei about last year’s main duty was a spur-of-the-moment thought.”

“Because Brother is so stubborn, those around him have to fret and prop him up meticulously to prevent any oversights.”
“The first hurdle of the schedule has been cleared—or rather, if he’d just accepted bribes, it would have been no trouble at all.”

“Without Lord Brother finding out, secretly—”

“That can’t be done.”
“With Kira’s attitude, Brother will find out immediately.”

Itoshige fell silent.

Crossing his arms again, Tatsuma peered into his wife’s face—

“We can’t keep asking Lord Kamei so frequently.”
“Moreover, between last year and this year, there must indeed be changes.”
“Fundamentally, when it comes to Brother’s stubbornness—though he knows nothing, he insists on pushing through with his own limited perspective and won’t even listen to me.”
“When I put it in writing and leave it quietly on his desk, he ends up reading it earnestly when no one’s around.”
“It’s an amusing trait of Brother’s, but this time it’s causing trouble.”
“Given his short temper, I just hope he doesn’t lose patience with Kira’s malice and let things escalate—”

Itoshige, somberly,

“Lord Brother’s well-being—and by extension, the clan comes first.”

“Therefore, I am not without a plan.”
“I might need you to put in a bit of work as well.”

In Tatsuma’s voice, something resolute could be heard, and Itoshige stiffened her posture.

“Yes, whatever you require—”

“Hey, Mokichi—about that portable sundries vendor—”

The conversation turned to whispers, and Tatsuma sidled closer.

II

Having left his home in the backstreets of Suruga-chō, Hirano-ya Mokichi walked with a furoshiki-wrapped paulownia box containing expensive merchandise slung over his shoulder and an umbrella held in one hand.

At Kamakura Riverbank, March snow fell, leaving white speckles on the tea-colored mud.

“Hey, isn’t that Mokichi?”

Tatsuma, dressed in the disheveled garb of a fallen retainer, had been loitering about while keeping watch on Mokichi.

He called out and entered under the umbrella.

“Where are you going? Something unpleasant has fallen.”

“Oh my, if it isn’t the young lord of Okabe.”

Mokichi looked puzzled but, his entire face radiating charm,

“As for that attire of yours—ah! A down-and-out ronin on a snowy day, a scarecrow with a sword stuck in it as your theme. I see now—most impressive.”
“Most impressive indeed.”

“Don’t give me that flattery.
Do you think I’d dress like this by choice?”

They started walking side by side.

“However, it’s been so long since we last met—I failed to recognize you.”

Abruptly, Tatsuma said.
"Brother won't give me the time of day—to my shame, this is how matters stand—"

“Huh?”

Mokichi asked back, but Tatsuma continued speaking with self-assured conviction.

“Nothing goes right—it’s just... I can’t take it anymore. I’ve been thinking of placing my wife in your care temporarily—”

“Lady Itoshige?”

Mokichi halted his steps and looked at Tatsuma with a sly expression.
"You must be joking."
"You can’t shield your belly by baring your back."
"She herself is aware of it."
"She’s saying she’ll do it even as a concubine or whatever."

The two of them, as if by mutual unspoken agreement, squatted down in the falling snow, wrapping their knees.

Lowering his voice, Tatsuma said:

“You’re the one commissioned by that old man from Kajibashi alone, aren’t you?”

“Lord Kira, you mean? You’re well informed.”

“Hell’s own ears.”
“Quick work, eh?”
“Has it been settled on your end?”

“No, I haven’t shown it yet, and nothing’s been decided—but is this true, my lord?”

“Would I lie about something like this? I need you to get Itoshige into Kira’s household. I’m begging you. Of course, having her linked to a fifty-three-thousand-koku lord’s younger brother would raise eyebrows—so use your usual channels. Set up a clean cover: fishmonger’s kin, ash trader’s daughter—whatever gets it done.”

“Lady Itoshige, then… right?”
“As for Lady Itoshige, I’ve no objections—but concealing her status, that—”

An unusual gleam came into Mokichi’s eyes.

Three

The sunlight was everywhere, and the stones, the trees, the entire garden seemed contentedly bathed in its warmth.

Transplanting a small winter plum potted plant into the ground himself, Okabe Minonokami was getting his hands covered in soil. Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned around.

Hisano was approaching, bending at the waist. What he had thought was a single person turned out to be Tomisumi—who had been overlapping—moving into view from behind.

Before they could draw near, Minonokami’s booming voice rang out.

“Have you inquired?”

“Yes.”
“We could not gain audience with Lord Kira, but through the official in charge of public affairs—”

Lining up and coming to a halt, Hisano answered.

“The matter of the Imperial Envoy delegation’s lodgings is said to be at Kōkōin Temple.”

Minonokami brushed off the soil with a loud noise.

“Kōkōin, huh.”
“I’ve known that from the start.”
“What did they say about construction preparations and thorough cleaning?”

“Yes.”
Tomisumi took over. “They indicated no repairs would be necessary.”

“What? No maintenance required?”

“However, they mentioned only the garden needs light tidying.”

“I see.”
Minonokami looked up at the blue sky in contemplation before demanding, “What about repainting the walls?”

“We inquired, but received a response that it was entirely unnecessary.”

“What about repapering the shoji screens?”

“They also said there’s no need to worry about that—”

“What about replacing the tatami mats?”

“We were told the current state is sufficient, but—”

“The corridors and toilets must be polished thoroughly, of course.”

“No, they said just a quick sweep would suffice—”

Minonokami shook his large frame, threw back his head, and roared with laughter.

“Good work.”
“No—that clarifies everything.”
“Well done, well done—then make arrangements immediately and have everything repaired from the garden to the interior.”

“But,” Hisano said dubiously, “Lord Kira said there’s no need—”

“Enough.”
“Be silent and listen.”
“Because the walls take considerable time to dry, have them repainted immediately.”

“But Lord Kira stated that—”

“Repaper the shoji screens, replace the tatami mats, clean the corridors and toilets—do everything thoroughly.”

As Hisano and Tomisumi exchanged puzzled, silent looks, Minonokami’s nerves tensed sharply.

“Will you not hurry? Kira has his ways—I have mine.”

If that’s the case, then he shouldn’t have made us go inquire in the first place, Hisano and Tomisumi grumbled discontentedly.

IV

At Kōkōin Temple’s inner entrance, voices rose as Kira’s party arrived.
They had come to conduct a preliminary inspection of the Imperial Envoys’ lodgings.

The day of the Imperial Envoys’ arrival in Edo was also drawing near.
Kira, having previously instructed Okabe’s men during their inquiry about these lodgings that a quick sweep would suffice, assumed no proper maintenance had been done. Anticipating this as his chance to crush Minonokami, he had been somewhat looking forward to today.

Needless to say, everything replaceable had been renewed with meticulous attention paid to every corner.

Even if they raised objections now, the envoys' arrival day was already imminent.
It was too late—Kira passed through Kōkōin Temple's gate with renewed vigor, fully believing he had exacted perfect vengeance upon Minonokami for the first time in years.

Yet he couldn't reconcile himself to seeing the garden immaculately maintained before all else.
When he stepped through the entranceway, the scents of fresh plaster and new tatami assaulted his nostrils.

“It’s all been done!”
As Kira muttered this, a different kind of anger—one that felt like betrayal—welled up within him.
“It seems they had prepared everything by protocol.”

From deeper within came Minonokami’s booming voice, but even after the attendant announced Lord Kira’s arrival, there was no indication he would appear.

Guided by Hisano and Tomisumi as he inspected each of the rooms, Kira was clenching his teeth.

“This will suffice.”
“There is nothing to be said.”
“Lord Minonokami is well aware of such matters—far more so than this humble one—”

Then abruptly, he looked at the corner of the room,

“I could use a pair of folding screens over there—”

From the tightly closed neighboring room, a voice could be heard.

"Brother, regarding the folding screen to be placed in the next room we've opened here—something by Hōgen Eitoku of the Kano school would achieve that balance between presence and restraint—"

That was exactly right.
He speaks aptly of Eitoku—who could that be? Kira wondered suspiciously.

As he clenched his jaw and stood frozen in silence, Minonokami's voice came from the adjacent room:

"Place one of Eitoku's folding screens in the next chamber, as Tatsuma suggested."

The attendant appeared to acknowledge this with a bow.

V

From the moment Hirano-ya Mokichi brought her for the formal audience and he first glimpsed her face, Kira had felt drawn to her.

Yet there was something vaguely difficult to approach about her.
Still, since she had undeniably come here fully aware of serving as a concubine, Kira reasoned she would eventually offer to fulfill those duties herself. He chose to leave matters untouched and refrained from pressing.

When night fell and Kira had been settled into bed, the woman briskly withdrew to her own room.
Though having come as a concubine, her demeanor suggested such conduct was only natural.
Yet she didn’t seem to be actively avoiding it either.
She responded briskly to everything and remained amiable.

When asked her name, she replied it was O-Ito.
According to Hirano-ya Mokichi, the petitioner, her parents were Buddhist altar makers in Hasegawa-chō.
To Kira, he could not grasp what O-Ito intended, but her elaborately stating matters they should have already understood was infuriating—and moreover, there was something that aligned with the sensibilities of an elderly man like him in leaving untouched before his very eyes something he could devour at any moment, precisely because it was always available and precisely because it was to his liking.

"She’s a peculiar woman—"

I won’t make the first move.
What was her intent? Kira decided to watch in silence.

And so, Kira never once stopped O-Ito as she finished preparing his bedding and left.
Until she appeared in the morning to assist with washing, he never once summoned her.
Days continued to pass with her remaining a concubine in name only.

He couldn’t help but feel he was being made a fool of.

In Kira’s heart, a forgotten youthful interest—the kind that advances such matters between a man and a woman—had also arisen,

Ha, haha— Perhaps I’ll try wooing her tonight—

He was muttering under his breath and forcing a wry smile when—
A bright color moved at the edge of the antechamber, and there was O-Ito’s face, looking utterly untroubled.

It was a nose bridge so straight it seemed you could slide right off it.
Perhaps it was giving her a slightly stern expression.

She placed three fingers on the threshold in formal greeting.

Swaying her heavy hair gently as she lifted it,

“Ah, a messenger from Lord Tachibana has arrived.”
“Though it is late at night, they say there is a matter regarding your official duties on which they wish to humbly inquire of Your Lordship—shall I show them in?”

While gazing at O-Ito’s pale forehead, Kira thought: *I never hired this woman to be an attendant.*
He stared fixedly at O-Ito and nodded silently.

VI

Tamamushi Yukioe was Tachibana Izumonokami’s Official in Charge of Public Affairs.
He was guided to a room and waited.

The front sliding doors opened to both sides, and Kira, hands tucked in his sleeves, entered with hurried footsteps.

While prostrating himself, Tamamushi watched from the corner of his eye as Kira entered accompanied by a woman who appeared to be a lady-in-waiting.

“I do apologize for arriving so late—”

“No, think nothing of it.”

When Kira arranged his thin knees on the cushion, the woman also sat down as if drawing back behind him.

With guests who came to discuss official matters, Kira was short-tempered.

“If we are to speak of official duties, this must concern your master Lord Izumo’s role as deputy for the envoy reception, but what—”

Immediately, Kira launched into his inquiry.

Sōda Magosaburō, the Official in Charge of Public Affairs, angled his face into view at the base of the veranda’s shoji.

“I humbly report—
“At this moment, Lord Tachibana has sent ten silver coins to the elder—”

“My, my.
To trouble you so often—I’m quite obliged, I must say.”

Though feigning indifference like courtesy for courtesy’s sake, Kira’s desire to show goodwill toward Lord Izumo seeped into his voice.

“Is there something about your duties that troubles you...?”

“Yes.
It concerns the cuisine we will humbly offer for the Imperial Envoy Reception.”

“Regarding that cuisine—”

“On the day—for the pure setting, abstaining from animal products—would it be vegetarian cuisine?”

“Ah, ‘seimotsu’ signifies things of purity.”
“Their Excellencies of the imperial court will make their auspicious visit for the New Year’s celebrations.”
“Even if it were a day of abstinence, on the very day of Their Excellencies’ arrival in Edo, vegetarian observance will certainly not be maintained.”
“It is not merely that fish are permissible—they must be fish.”

“Thank you very much. In truth, we’ve split into two factions—those who insist it must be vegetarian cuisine, or rather, those who maintain it must be fish—which is precisely why I’ve come to humbly ascertain the correct protocol.”

Kira wore a smile befitting an authority figure.

“Whoever said such a thing about it being vegetarian—it is absolutely not vegetarian.”
“As I just stated, even on an abstinence day, it must be fish.”

Behind Kira, Itoshige—waiting in attendance—listened with the same tense attentiveness as Tamamushi throughout.

Kira said to Tamamushi Yukioe, who was expressing his thanks and attempting to rise.

“Fundamentally, this duty might be called difficult if one insists on labeling it so, but precedents exist. However capable you may be, Ueno shall assume full responsibility.”
“I will provide directives, so make any inquiries needed—you may rest assured.”
“To receive such repeated courtesies from you only deepens my unworthiness.”
“Pray convey my respects to Lord Izumo.”

O-Ito, with a demeanor of nodding in agreement inwardly, followed to see Tamamushi off.

Parent-Embracing Pine

I

It was a preparation room within the castle, assigned for discussions regarding the Imperial Envoy Reception Duty.

A sudden voice wrenched Minonokami’s head around.

“Lord Okabe!”

It was Kira.

Minonokami wordlessly asked with his eyes.

……………….

“You never ask me anything,” said Kira, “but having taken on the main duty yourself from the start, you must be thoroughly versed in all matters.”

Minonokami answered with affected nonchalance,
“Yet I know nothing.”
“Even I find this laughable.”

“You maintain such composure—is that acceptable?”

“Good or bad matters not—what I don’t know can’t be helped.”

Kira bit his lips resentfully, his complexion already beginning to change.

“What one doesn’t know can’t be helped? How dare you speak in such—”

“But then again—how convenient—by remaining thus, a benevolent soul like your lordship will naturally instruct me in all matters. Well, things shall manage themselves somehow.”
“Having reasoned thus, I deliberately choose not to panic.”

“My schedule overflows.”
“I cannot spare moments to humor the likes of you.”
“Yet regarding the cuisine to be presented that day—needless to say, you must already know.”

“Since you don’t even know that, I’m truly astonished.”

“Lord Mino!”

Kira, unable to tell whether this Okabe Mino was a fool or a man of greatness, let out a flustered voice.

“This is no occasion for jesting. This will be your failing, so I’ll say this much—on the day of Their Excellencies’ arrival, the banquet must shun fish. It’s vegetarian cuisine.”

Minonokami had lately been engaging in something akin to written exchanges with his younger brother Tatsuma.

That morning too, as Tatsuma had quietly left a written note on the desk before departing, Minonokami pretended not to see it yet swiftly read its contents.

With a sharp smile—

“No—for one who holds your esteemed position, Lord Kira, this is an unconscionable error.”
“The term ‘ceremonial offerings’ signifies that which is pure—how could there possibly be vegetarian cuisine when Their Excellencies grace us with their New Year’s visit?”
“Even were it an abstinence day, on the very day of Their Excellencies’ arrival in Edo, vegetarian cuisine would never be served.”
“Far from merely sufficing—it must be fish.”
“As for you—no matter who says what—I shall serve fish-based dishes.”

Kira stiffened as though his spine had turned into a rod and was merely swallowing his saliva.

Hands were opening and closing automatically, gripping the knees of the hakama.

II

“No, I would never dare suggest that I do not comply with your wishes.”
“But...”

It was Kira’s hand that came to restrain her.
Realizing she had brushed it away too forcefully, O-Ito froze in alarm.

If she were exposed here over such a thing— Itoshige forced a seductive smile.

“It is under that agreement that this humble Ito has come to serve.”
“How could this humble one ever oppose your will?”
“If only your lordship does not alter your intentions, this humble one could serve you long into the future—though surely you would tire of me swiftly—.”

Even as she spoke these words—though she was a spy, uttering falsehoods contrary to her heart—Itoshige shuddered at having to voice such things and feign allure toward Kira, who now tormented her husband, her husband’s brother, and herself.

She burned with hatred toward Kira to the point of wanting to stab him to death.

"But what—if that's so, then why do you refuse to consent?"

Seated on the quilted futon, Kira wore a strangely vacant expression, his eyes gleaming with unnatural intensity.

The pushed-away hand hung awkwardly in the air as she hastily fastened her collar.

It was a dry sound.

“This humble one—whether my will aligns or not should be of no consequence.”
“State your reason.”

Itoshige had been observing Kira’s bedtime as usual and was about to withdraw to her own room.
After adjusting the slight disarray of her collar from their brief resistance, she sat some distance away toward the hem of the night robe.

“As for the reason... there’s nothing specific—”

Kira feigned nonchalance.
Yet with vigor unbefitting an elder, the awkward shame of having his advances rebuffed showed itself about the shoulders of his night robe.

However, O-Ito had come here as a concubine from the very beginning.
Kira found himself wondering—could it truly be acceptable to keep such a troublesome woman as a concubine?
He found it absurd.

He might as well dismiss her—but found himself unable to.
While this might have been mere longing for the unknown, he could not deny that something akin to attachment had taken root before he knew it.
He also felt stubborn pride toward Mokichi and O-Ito herself.

As she watched Kira sunk in contemplation, Itoshige attempted to summon the image of her husband Tatsuma’s face. Simultaneously, something resembling pity for Kira briefly crossed her mind.

Itoshige was crying.

Kira was being uncharacteristically gentle,

“Why are you crying?”

She had to offer a slight evasion.

“There is something I desire.”
“If only that were granted—”

“Oh ho? You want something?”
Kira beamed. “What a child you are. This shall serve as proof that I will assuredly cherish you—
“How intriguing!
“Then state your desire.”

Troubled by her sudden inspiration,

“Well…”

As her gaze darted about the chamber, Itoshige’s eyes settled on the fan box atop the tiered shelf.

“That one?”
“Ha ha ha! That fan box?”

Itoshige panicked.

"Yes—no, please place a fan in that—and then, regarding that fan, this humble one has a particular preference."

Relieved, she left.

III

“For the ribs—using wood to make them look like unconventional material, huh? What a damn nuisance they’ve dreamed up!”

It was the craftsman’s muttered monologue.

After placing Kira’s order document, he immediately consulted an engineering manual titled *Kikaku Hyakushu Shinjutsu*,

“Hmm, what was it...?”
*The method of lacquering plain wood to create the appearance of tortoiseshell or marble—huh.*
First, thoroughly polish the material, then apply a base coating made by blending red lead with either glue water or standard perilla oil lacquer—a mixture producing a yellowish-red hue tinged with dull indigo.
Next, using kesshi composed of two ryo of dragon’s blood resin and sixteen-degree shochu, apply cloud-like speckles.
“And take care to thoroughly dry the base colorant beforehand; then apply a clear foreign lacquer across the entire surface.”

East of Tokiwabashi in Ishichō 1-chōme stood a house known as Mikagedō that crafted fans.
The main house of Mikagedō was located west of Kyoto’s Gojō Bridge; tradition held that Atsumori’s widow had taken monastic vows and begun folding Akuya fans there—a practice said to endure through generations.
A fan-shaped keyaki board displayed a large sign bearing the shop’s name.

That was their workshop.

The fan craftsman continued reading the next section of the instruction manual.

“To achieve marble-like patterning: first apply a base coat of any single color as desired; next impart veining to mimic natural stone; afterward, it is best to apply a patina for aging and then polish it to a luster――.”

Following this formula, he processed the fan’s ribs.

This was the fan Itoshige had presented to Kira as an impossible condition—once completed, it would be left to Kira’s discretion, but until then, they could not share a pillow.

Kira, who styled himself a man of refined taste, had permitted this.
Finding Itoshige’s proposal amusing—he laughed—he could not help but promptly place an order with Mikagedō.

Until her brother-in-law Minonokami had safely fulfilled his duties as Imperial Envoy Reception Officer—any fan remaining unfinished by then would have sufficed. She randomly devised a fan as time-consuming and difficult as possible. Before the fan could be placed in that fan box and taken down by Kira, Minonokami would undoubtedly have been relieved of his duties. In that case, Itoshige would be able to slip quietly away from Kira and return to Tatsuma with her body still intact.

Kira found amusement in this fan matter, treating it as a playful diversion preceding his negotiations with the woman.

Daily, urgent prodding descended upon Mikagedō.
The work neared completion.

IV

The schedule document meant for Tachibana Izumonokami’s messenger was what Itoshige had secretly pocketed.

The Schedule Document—referred to as an additional official directive—was an important record that certified the order of ceremonies. It provided a concrete explanation of the most crucial day for the Imperial Envoy Reception Duty.

Confirming that no one was around, she opened the brushwood lattice door at the back.

As usual, blending into the twilight, Tatsuma—disguised in his Orisuke attire—stood idly waiting.

Quickly, while handing over the Schedule Document, Itoshige—

“This details every particular of the most crucial day for the Imperial Envoy Reception Duty—one might say it contains the very essence of the role. If Lord Tachibana were to come retrieve it, they would realize it’s missing and immediately raise an uproar.”

Tatsuma, from deep within his hooded cloak,

“Anything else to keep in mind?”

“On the day—you must ensure the formal black court cap—”

“The rest—I’m pressed for time.”

As he was leaving the hedge, about to go,

“Then, when the Imperial Envoys arrive, Lord Kira and the two reception officers will go out to greet them.”

“Hmm.”
“And?”

“At that time, Lord Kira—in his capacity as head Master of Ceremonies—is said to go so far as presenting a ceremonial hanging scroll, but Brother and Lord Tachibana will be stationed at the main seating area—”

“The main seating area—I can’t grasp it. Where is this ‘main seating area’ they speak of?”

“From what I gather, it’s a place called the Ohikidashi—.”

“Alright. So it’s the Ohikidashi.”

Tatsuma, who had nearly left, turned back,

“The fan... Ha... hahahaha... It is not finished yet, I take it?”

“Yes.”
“Not yet.”
“But since it’s nearly complete—and perilously so—I felt uneasy relying solely on the unconventional ribs, so afterward I added yet another impossible demand.”
“In Lord Kira’s domain of Inaba Village in Shimotsuke, there exists a pine called the Parent-Embracing Pine, which he has always taken pride in.”
“Some time ago, a pilgrim met his end beneath that pine, so the locals planted a single young pine beside the old tree as a burial marker. But then the sapling’s branches grew to press against the parent trunk—appearing as though they were supporting it with their limbs—which led Lord Kira to name it the Parent-Embracing Pine.”
“Then I thought to add this: across the entire fan surface, 33,333 pine motifs in pear-skin ground with Kōami-style sprinkled designs—a troublesome request, to be sure. But at Mikagedō, they’ve been working night and day, from artisans to the master himself, and I hear it’s nearly complete.”
“I am deeply concerned, but there’s nothing I can do about it—.”

Watching the shadow play

I

The decorations in the O-Shiroshoin had been completed.

The co-officials took their seats in the Grand Hall upper seat, the Teikan Room, the Willow Room, the Wild Goose Room, and the Chrysanthemum Room.

Silence spread through the castle as the three nobles—Yanagiwara Dainagon, Ōgimachi Chūnagon, and Kanroji Chūnagon—were arriving.

Since he surely hadn’t instructed him about attire, Lord Okabe might have shown up in something absurdly out of place—like ceremonial hakama—which would be amusing, Kira mused. But when he searched for Minonokami’s figure, there he stood impeccably in his formal black court cap with large crests.

Kira felt deflated. Even as Lord Okabe approached, he couldn’t muster the will to show even a single word of hostility as he had before.

The one who broke the silence was Lord Okabe.
“Is there such a thing as a Schedule Document?”
“Show it to me.”
His tone took on an arrogant edge.

Kira stared at him in silence.

“Hey—what’s become of the Schedule Document?”
“Don’t you have it?”
Minonokami was the principal officer.
As a formality, he had to look through it—it would be improper otherwise.
“Hand it over.”

Visibly, Kira began to tremble.

“There is none.”

“You lost it, didn’t you?”

“No—I do have it.”
“But this one is the head Master of Ceremonies.”
“If I oversee it, that should suffice.”
“This does not concern you.”

“What? Are you saying the Schedule Document for the reception is none of *my* concern as the principal officer—?”

Kira showed sweat at his hairline,

“Now, now—there’s no need to raise your voice so. The Heavenly Performers will arrive at any moment.”
“Should that ceremonial gong sound reach your ears prematurely, it would be most presumptuous.”

But Minonokami pressed on relentlessly,

“It’s the Schedule Document signed by the Senior Councilors.”
“The preparations for the Heavenly Performers’ departure should be ready.”
“I will return this to the Senior Councilors. Hand it over!”

How does Minonokami know about the existence of something like the Schedule Document?—Kira resolved not to engage.

Minonokami grinned slyly,

“Without this basic knowledge, how could you presume to undertake the principal duty? The Imperial Envoys’ visit to the Spirit Halls at Both Mountains requires the Inspector and Foot Soldier Captains’ attendance.”
“This is established protocol.”
“On the thirteenth day comes the Noh performance for the Heavenly Performers.”
“Takasago and Sanbasō.”
“Performed by Master Sagidayu himself.”
“The document specifies attendees—the Three Tokugawa Houses, elder and junior hereditary daimyos, guard captains, unit commanders...even physicians.”
“Memorize this.”

Kira’s face turned corpse-pale as he stood glaring at Lord Minonokami.

II

“Well now—this being such an appallingly intricate commission—it devoured every scrap of my time! But at last! Completed!”

The head of the Mikagedō main family in Kyoto enshrined a statue of Honen, the principal image, in his shop; as a Jishū sect adherent, he maintained a monk’s appearance while being married—a shaven-headed fan maker who was a noted figure in Kyoto.

The Edo Mikagedō, for its part, was no monk but a rough-spoken craftsman type.
He was, indeed, a rather eccentric character.

When Tatsuma went to receive the completed fan, claiming to have come from the Kira household, the craftsman himself brought it out from what resembled a small document chest in the back.

He placed it on his palm and gazed at it adoringly, as though reluctant to let it go.

Tatsuma had come in attire resembling that of a mansion retainer.
His speech matched the guise,

“Well now—a real masterpiece! This is a feast for the eyes!”

“After all, I’ve poured my heart and soul into crafting this—you see?”
“What d’you think of this fan rib color? Ten genuine ribs here—polish ain’t much to boast about, but the Dutch method’s got a new technique here—no—gave us craftsmen hell, I tell ya.”

“It commands a nod—”

“What in blazes was Lord Kira thinking when he ordered such an outrageous thing—I don’t know, but—”
The Mikagedō craftsman suddenly lowered his voice.

“It’s just a rumor, y’know.”
“It’s just a rumor, so forgive me if I’m wrong.”
“The concubine refused to listen, so she dreamed up this bizarre thing—and once it was done, heh heh heh—My Lord’s been puttin’ up with it ever since, see?”
“Serves him right.”
“No wonder he didn’t care about the price—just kept saying ‘Quickly, quickly’—.”

“The pines are exquisitely drawn.”

Tatsuma took the fan in hand and held it up before his eyes.

“Such intricate pines.”
“Hmm, exquisite craftsmanship from start to finish—and does this truly contain thirty-three thousand three hundred thirty-three pines?”

“It certainly does. Please count them with a magnifying glass—My Lord is eagerly awaiting it. I’d love to admire it a bit longer myself, but I’ll have you take it back now.”

“The more His Lordship gazes upon it, the more he shall marvel at its exquisite craftsmanship.”
“Payment shall be collected from the residence at a later time.”

“Well, that’s how it’s always been—.”

As Tatsuma began to walk, the fan slipped naturally from his hand and struck the earthen floor.

Tatsuma dropped it.

The fan surface tore, and one or two ribs snapped.

“Oh!
“This is a disaster—.”

As he shouted, Mikagedō came running down barefoot in tabi socks.

“What the hell are you doing?!”
“Do you have any idea how many days this’ll take to fix now—?”

“A mishap.”
“Forgive me!”

Staggering once more—as if unintentionally—while grinding the fan underfoot, Tatsuma fled with a suppressed smile.

III

The Imperial Envoy was about to arrive at the entrance.
Kira Yoshihisa, stationed at the designated waiting area, cast a final glance around to ensure all preparations were in order.
He noticed that Okabe Minonokami was seated at the entrance in precisely the same manner as himself.

Until now he had managed through stubborn persistence and by somehow gathering information to carry out his duties—but there was no denying he hadn’t truly mastered them—Kira thought.
There was no helping it.
That had manifested itself here—so thinking，Kira found it somewhat amusing.

Kira, being Head Master of Ceremonies, had every right to be there—
“What’s Okabe doing meddling here?!”
“I’ll rebuke him so severely his face won’t recover its pride—.”

The lingering displeasure toward Lord Minonokami since the fan box incident now filled Kira with savage glee at having secured this chance for retaliation.
He waited, casting sideways glances at Minonokami.

When the Imperial Envoy’s party drew near, Kira deliberately lowered his voice.

“Lord Minonokami—”

He seemed not to hear.

“Lord Minonokami!”

Lumberingly, Minonokami answered.
"What is it?"
"You’re in the wrong seat!"
"Huh?"
Kira was growing amused.

“You’re in the wrong seat.”
In a rapid tone, “I said you’re in the wrong seat—”
“This seat—.”

“What? What’s all this muttering?”

Minonokami anchored his large shoulders like a hill and made no move to budge.

“Return to the main seat at once—the main seat!”

“The main seat?
Where exactly is this ‘main seat’?”

“Hush!
Such a loud voice—! Hurry to the main seat!”

“Don’t spout nonsense!
Where is this ‘main seat’?”

“What are you saying!”
Kira stiffened.
“This is no time to be asking where the main seat is!
Enough!
Take your place at the main seat—the main seat!”

When Lord Minonokami suddenly stood up, bent slightly at the waist, and with sliding steps flawlessly positioned himself into the alcove, Kira flared up.

Minonokami realized he* (*contextually inferred as **Kira**) had known all along and had been mocking him* (*contextually inferred as **Minonokami**).

Being toyed with—before his eyes*, (*contextually inferred as **Kira**) something red seemed to dance.

IV

“What are you called, Kantō samurai?”

Ōgimachi Chunagon turned back toward Okabe Minonokami curiously and inquired.

The officer for the Imperial Envoy Reception Duty, accompanying the envoy, had come as far as the Pine Corridor.

“Okabe Minonokami.”

When he said it bluntly, Chunagon laughed,

“Kantō is a land governed by martial prowess.”
“You have an imposing physique.”
“You must possess considerable strength.”
“I should like to witness it.”

“I understand.”

With that as his cue, Minonokami abruptly laid hands on Kira, who was walking just ahead.

“What are you doing?!
“Madman—!”

He writhed, but Kira’s withered body was hoisted high above Minonokami’s head, swimming through the air.

The eboshi tilted, and the chūkei fan went flying.
Then Kira, caught by Minonokami, was smoothly lowered down as if being cared for.

A boorish diversion—with laughter trailing behind them, the imperial envoys had already progressed far ahead.
The astonished faces of Izumonokami and others surrounded them.

Kira couldn't speak.
What an outrage!
I thought—this is the end.

“Mino, wait!”

He shouted—or at least thought he had.
At the same time, he instantly imagined himself abandoning his house, forgetting his very being, reaching for the small sword at his waist—.

Minonokami was already walking calmly toward the other side.

It was an assault with a weapon.
Kira pictured it in his mind in an instant.

It was within the palace.
It was the Pine Corridor.
Even if accidental, drawing the sword just three inches from its scabbard would lead to catastrophe.

But the cord of his patience pouch had snapped.
He no longer cared what became of himself.
Whether they called him deranged or demanded his ritual suicide—such things no longer concerned him.

Kira drew his sword in his heart.
And he envisioned himself slashing at the deeply resented Minonokami.

The Pine Corridor—exactly at the shadow of the sixth corner pillar.

The first strike hit the metal fitting of the eboshi and glanced off.
The second strike extended and landed on his shoulder.

Mino tried to escape, collided with the door, and fell.
Just as he tried to get up—"Now!"—he struck down, but at that moment, Kira realized he was being firmly restrained from behind.
It was Kajikawa Yosōbei.
A man of great strength had him completely pinned in a full nelson—Kira writhed his body.

“Regrettable—”

“Did that make you dizzy, Lord Kira!”

Kira stood swaying unsteadily.
Kajikawa Yosōbei smiled as he supported him from behind, hands encircling his torso.

“Being hoisted up like that—it makes one’s head spin.”
“Rather brutish treatment.”

“However much a reception officer must humor celestial envoys’ whims, to handle your venerable self so...”
Kajikawa laughed.
“Can you walk?”

Kira, too, could only manage a wry smile.

“Truly, Lord Mino seems somewhat rough.”

Following the imperial envoys, at the edge of the corridor, Minonokami’s diminutive figure could be seen.