Pathway to Japanese Literature

“Ha ha ha ha…”

A cold, malicious-sounding guffaw came through the light rain from a pine grove on one side.
Less than a ri before Odawara.
It was near the end of March in Bunkyū 3, around the hour of dusk.

Ishizuki Heima suddenly stopped.
As if drawn by that wicked laughter, he approached through the dripping pines that soaked him.

A lone young samurai in a yellow paulownia-oil raincloak lay prostrated among the pines.
Perhaps due to the dim light, the nape of his neck appeared white like a woman’s.

Before and behind him stood two bearded warriors.
Neither wore a hat, clad in old kamishimo with large topknots and hakama trousers marking them as ronin.
The stocky one gripping a straight-leather hilt seemed to have laughed.

“Hah! Hah! Hah! There’s nothing to fear. We ain’t gonna hurt ya if ya just come along with us…”

“We’ll even show you a back way through the checkpoint…”

“Huh…?!”

The young samurai flared up momentarily but soon bowed his head again quietly. He seemed to be deep in thought.

“Ha ha. A forged permit might get you through checkpoints... but you can’t slip past our watch... can ya now...”

“That’s right, that’s right… eh, pretty boy. You ain’t even a man…”

“Th-that’s... utterly preposterous...”

The young samurai flared up once more but again bowed his head weakly.
He also appeared to be watching for an opening.

……Hmm….
Higo samurai, perhaps…

Heima thought while sneaking closer.

...In any case, they must be vagrant ronin spawned by this decaying era.
Fairly skilled fellows gang up in groups of two or three... When they spot a weak samurai, they approach from both sides and drag him along.
They stay at the same inn while sympathizing with any of the three factions—pro-shogunate, imperial loyalist, or conservative.
In a hospitable manner, they order food and drink, and if one lets their guard down, they even summon women.
I’d heard it’s standard practice for these rogues to perfect their escape tactics by morning... Deplorable wretches, indeed...

As he thought this, young Heima's arm began to thrum.

...I am from a family of rear chamber attendants and mounted messengers... Best not to meddle in unnecessary affairs...

He had considered this, but seeing the pitiful young samurai’s figure, he found himself unable to retreat. He also possessed confidence as the foremost disciple under Asakawa Ichiryusai, instructor of the Kuroda domain’s Ittō-ryū. Last year’s grand tournament had seen him receive the domain lord’s awarded sword, Nami no Hirakageyasu, and he longed to test its edge.

Before their very noses, the bearded warriors exchanged nods once more.

“Come on now! Ain’t no use arguin’! Just get movin’! Ha ha ha… Ha ha…”

Perhaps having been underestimated as a woman, the young samurai swiftly fended off the two men closing in from both sides. With unanticipated nimbleness, he darted two or three paces sideways—only to collide squarely with Heima emerging from pine shadows.

“Ah—!”

The cry still hanging in air, the young samurai reached for his sword hilt—but Heima seized that practiced wrist and wordlessly shoved him rearward. Now he stood confronting both ronin.

“...Who’re you?!”

“Meddling, are you?!”

“Declare your name!”

Murderous words erupted from the mouths of the two poised men.

“Ha ha. It’s not worth announcing my name for such trifling business...”

Heima calmly removed the sedge hat.
The young samurai also seemed to recognize Heima as an ally.
He stopped behind and poised himself.

“I’ve heard the particulars.”
“That you’re Higo gentlemen stands clear... yet to stoop to such squalid conduct—unbecoming of warriors from a great domain...”

“What’s squalid?!”

“Don’t go meddling in unnecessary affairs and live to regret it.”

“Ha ha. That’s what you should be telling yourselves! The checkpoint officials may be shogunate allies, but when did you lot become Tokugawa’s lackeys?”

The two men found themselves momentarily cornered in their argument, but soon Heima seemed to realize they were still greenhorns. Both men slowly and steadily straightened the legs they had slightly pulled back.

“Heh heh heh.
“What’s this? Samurai engaging in pine grove extortion?”
“For one bearing two swords, you cut a sorrier figure than any outcast beggar!”

While Heima spoke these words, his opponents had subtly shifted apart to either flank.
Well-practiced in such skirmishes, they exploited the fleeting moment when Heima passed his sedge hat to the young samurai behind him—both men lunged forward in unison.
Their blade tips carried lethal precision that froze the breath.

“...Hah...”

The young samurai’s gasp hung in the air.
Before his eyes, Heima’s flipped-up brown raincloak billowed like a standing screen—when it slapped wetly against the ground, the two ronin had already split to opposite sides.
Pivoting between their sword points, Heima slashed one with a right diagonal cut and the other with a left reverse stroke before springing back six feet.

As if verifying the sword wounds on the two corpses that had fallen face down, Heima slowly approached. Then, after taking out a pocket tissue to wipe his sword and sheathing it,

“There was no need to deliver the final blow to such men...”

Muttering to himself all the while, he made his way back using the white sedge hat as a landmark.

The young samurai standing amidst the dripping pines let out a sigh deep enough for Heima to hear.

“Are you injured?”

“No. There wasn’t even an opportunity for injury,” he laughed while inspecting his unblemished body – not a single drop of returned blood staining him.

“You have my deepest gratitude. Though bearing great purpose, this humble one resolved to flee knowing it cowardly – to have troubled you so is beyond...”

The rehearsed perfection showed through. As the young samurai delivered this courtly gratitude with fluid ease, Heima – who had been swelling with self-satisfaction – found himself flustered.

“No… That’s an admirable resolve… Oh— This is rather…”

He accepted the brown raincloak and sedge hat with bashful deference.

“What admirable swordsmanship you possess.”
“Thanks to your assistance, the troubles on this highway have been resolved...”

“...I am utterly ashamed...”

As they conversed in low voices, they exited the pine grove. And then, both of them stopped by the roadside with a composure unthinkable for people who had just seen blood.

When they faced each other in the bright light, the young samurai appeared even more striking. The figure standing in an outward-splayed stance was not merely clean-cut. The facial features—sharpened with an eerie beauty reminiscent of kabuki actors in ukiyo-e prints—the mouth's contour... The scent of orchid and musk that glimmered in the twilight... Had Heima not witnessed that composure unshaken by bloodshed, even he might have suspected this was a woman.

The young samurai quietly surveyed both directions of the highway while unfastening the front of his yellow waxed raincloak.
He briskly approached Heima and reverently bowed his head.

“...This humble one resides in Edo’s Lower Sixth District as the second son of Tomokawa Saburobei—an unworthy novice called Sanjirou Noriyuki... My father was slain by a samurai stationed in Edo, and in place of my ailing elder brother, I now journey to resolve his lingering grievance. To have received such unexpected assistance along this path...”

“Ah—no no—”

Heima blushed furiously as he raised his hand.

“...Such courtesy surpasses my standing.”
“My apologies for delaying proper introductions—this one is Ishizuki of Chikuzen’s Kuroda domain...”

“……Um… Lord Ishizuki… of Kuroda domain…”

As this exchange unfolded, the young samurai raised his face and cast a fleeting glance at Heima’s countenance.
However, Heima, completely oblivious, nodded casually.

“Indeed, indeed.
Heima—a man of little refinement.
When you come to my region, please do visit.”

“I am most humbly grateful.”
“In any case, together...”

The young samurai once again bowed his head with even deeper courtesy.

“...However, leaving matters thus would be most unsatisfactory to this humble one. Though it imposes upon you, I humbly request that you allow me to accompany you to the Odawara inn...”

“Ah... No no.
That consideration is unnecessary, unnecessary.
The truth is, I am under orders to hasten back to my domain... Though I am profoundly grateful for your kindness...”

“You are most reasonable… perfectly justified in your stance… Yet if we part ways now, when shall I ever repay this debt…”

“Ahaha!
To speak of such a debt pains me deeply… Truly, think nothing of it…”

“Then... um... if you would be so exceedingly kind... as to permit one who travels the same path...”

“I must beg your forgiveness, but I ask you to permit this... Or perhaps... do you have some concern regarding the checkpoint’s procedures...? Though this inquiry may be presumptuous...”

“Ah!”
“Your repeated kindness… I do indeed possess both the checkpoint permit and vendetta certificate.”
“Though I cannot disclose the birthplace or surname of my sworn enemy… should you wish to inspect the vendetta permit and checkpoint permit alone, I could present them to your eyes this very moment…”

“Ah, no no—”
“If you possess it, there is no concern.”
“In these times when governance falters, to pursue a vendetta shows most admirable resolve—I can only express profound admiration.”
“May you safely accomplish your noble aim.”
“No.”
“Farewell... farewell...”

Heima parted from the young samurai as if shaking him off.
The more he spoke, the more the young samurai’s unsettling allure clung to his vision. With a body that had grown uneasy, he strode briskly onward, relying on his proud strong legs.
He fought the urge to look back, enduring it with effort as he pondered.

Well, that was a strange one I encountered.
For one who carried a scent pouch, he seemed at first a harmless weakling—yet his vigilant stance, precise footwork... above all, that courage and eloquence mismatched with his youth struck me as strange. Though I suppose he couldn’t be some highway fox spirit in disguise...

As he pondered these things, he noticed the raindrops had grown large and firmly tightened the cord of his sedge hat.

No—this was a grave oversight.
"A samurai must not leave his heart upon the path.
'Must not wet one’s feet in the dew upon the grass'... Hmm...
Good grief... Let's just get to Odawara quickly and have a drink.

After finishing his sword maintenance and entering the inn’s bath feeling refreshed, Heima—still clad in yukata—was about to ascend to the second floor when an inn maid who appeared to have been lying in wait emerged from the side and gave a shallow bow.

“Ah… That was an excellent bath…”

“My profound apologies.”
“Ah… Though it pains me to impose, as preparations for your other room have now been completed… If you would kindly come this way…”

“Haha.”
“This one has no objection to the second floor… nor do I recall lodging any complaints…”

“Yes... um... this is as per the master’s instructions...”

“...I see.”
“...Then it can’t be helped.”

Heima momentarily thought it strange but followed the woman as he was.
The maid guided him through the outer corridor, now pouring with rain, to a detached guest room surrounded by female bamboo.

In two splendid rooms of ten and eight tatami mats, Bingo straw mats lay lushly green, while on a platform of one and a half ken sat a celadon vase piled high with Ezo chrysanthemums.
Beyond it hung Bunchō’s Waterfall hanging scroll.
In front of the darkened Kano-school silver screen lay two layered floor cushions.
Armrest.
Nabeshima brazier.
Before them were vermilion-lacquered high dining trays and second serving trays arranged in a row.
Only the clothes hanging on the clothes rack—his own handwoven tsumugi garments—looked shabby.

Having been a former page who retained some discernment, Heima stopped at the threshold still clad in his yukata.

"Now see here, woman—"

The woman turned around while adjusting the silk lantern's flame.

"You people haven't mistaken this guest's standing, have you?
"Hahaha... This one frequents these roads... Not one accustomed to lodging in such fine chambers..."

"Yes... um..."

The woman turned crimson and pressed three fingers beside the lantern.

"Truly... it is as the master instructed..."

“Um... While your lordship was bathing, a young samurai gentleman stopped by the entrance...”

“What… A young samurai…?”

“Yes…
“Um… Though he wished to present himself and offer greetings… as he is pressed for time, he must beg your pardon…”
“...and was commanded to ensure no detail was overlooked, even providing us with gratuities...”

“Heh heh…”
“At present... such impertinence... I must beg your pardon...”

A man who appeared to be the fiftyish innkeeper came running and pressed his forehead to Heima’s feet.

“...And as for the customary tea money this time... please rest assured it has been properly attended to... quickly now...”

Heima stood frozen in bewilderment.
He must not let down his guard while bearing this mission... yet its underlying purpose was all too clear.
To dismiss the young man's earlier display of gratitude as excessive would itself be theatrical... Yet what meticulous arrangements—such extraordinary consideration for one so young... Even as he pondered these contradictions, that uncanny forelock-adorned figure flickered before his eyes once more.

“Please make yourself at ease… Milord.”
“Truly, it is a rather shabby place, but…”

With that, the innkeeper and maid withdrew.

Heima found himself unable to retreat.
Remaining as he was, he plopped down onto the brocade cushion before the alcove and crossed his arms, when this time a beautifully adorned girl with an elaborate takashimada hairstyle entered, bearing a sake decanter.

“Please allow me to pour.”
“This is a product from that region—I wonder how it will suit your palate… Won’t you have one…?”

Heima blinked rapidly, his arms still crossed.

"You... are the maid?"

"Yes... um... I am the daughter of this establishment."

"Hmm."
"The daughter...?"

“Yes…”
“Um… another cup…?”

Heima tilted his head repeatedly and downed two or three cups.
The premium sake must have been potent, for before he knew it, he found himself pleasantly intoxicated.

Well…
Though it was called a lord’s command, this time it amounted to nothing but chamber-suitable sweet nothings.
There was no reason at all for him to be followed… yet surely that young samurai’s earlier gratitude had been genuine…

As he turned these thoughts over in his mind, Heima—naturally carefree by disposition—grew increasingly at ease and drained five or six bottles.
The vinegar-marinated carp and miso-grilled vegetables with sansho were novel to him.

When he burrowed into bedding so plush one could sink into it, he thought again briefly.

To leave such a generous gratuity... he must be carrying substantial travel funds.
The Tomokawa hatamoto... not one I’ve heard much about, hmm.
How many koku would they yield...?

As he pondered this, once more the visage of the young samurai against the pine grove flickered into view within the ceiling’s firelight.
The pale blue collar layered with indigo kimono and yellow waxed raincloak—how alluring that white neckline had been…

But even that was but a fleeting illusion.
Heima began snoring without even turning over.
As he crossed Hakone Pass, Heima completely forgot about the young samurai.

Deliberately bypassing Sunpu, he crossed the Ōi River in one push from seaside Yaizu and arrived at Mitsuke’s lodging via a mountain path alive with tea-picking songs and soaring skylarks. As a crescent moon rose above towering cedars, he removed his straw sandals at Sango-ya—an inn before a torii gate along the route.
While soaking in the bath and listening to alleyway gossip about a nearby quarrel, he immersed himself in the mindset of a traveler, but amidst this, noticed a maid entering the wooden-floored anteroom and changing out of her cotton yukata into what appeared to be silk-textured garments.
...Well...
Wondering what she was doing—as he watched—the maid pressed three fingers to the floor and looked up at Heima’s face.

“Milord… We most humbly apologize, but as the private parlor in the rear has now become available… When you are ready to proceed, please allow us… We shall guide you…”

Heima, recalling the Odawara incident, found himself unable to respond.
As an inexplicable suspicion and unbearable curiosity began swirling before his eyes, he wordlessly leapt out from the steam.

“Milord… You must be weary… Allow me to rinse you down.”

A neatly dressed young attendant entered, rubbing his hands deferentially.
He was adjusting his new towel-cloth yukata.

“……Hmm…”

Heima remained deep in thought as he had his back washed, but his thoughts refused to coalesce.
The young attendant’s hands kneading his shoulders sent peculiar sensations radiating to his lower abdomen.

Guided by the maid to the inner quarters, he found a two-shaku alcove—less grand than Odawara’s but heavy with woody fragrance—where Ezo chrysanthemums identical to those in Odawara had been arranged.
The seal was illegible, but the tea scroll bearing an enso circle appeared new.
The sake-bag cushions laid before it and Yoshino Shunkei lacquerware tray seemed incongruous for an inn.
A girl wearing a peach-split hairstyle, her nose tip dusted white, poured drinks with ceremonial care.
She spoke with brisk formality that bordered on affectation.

“Is this… a tea room…?”

“Yes. The master built it when the venerable priest from Seiken-ji Temple visited recently.”

Heima looked back at the hanging scroll in the alcove.

“Did those Ezo chrysanthemums bloom in this inn’s garden?”

“No… Um… The noble lady accompanying you was the one who brought them.”

“What… The noble lady…?”

The young girl nodded innocently.

“Hmm... What kind of noble lady...?”

The young girl’s eyes widened slightly.

“Since Milord isn’t aware...”

“...Hmm...”

Heima was stumped.
He could no longer tell whether it would be better to claim knowledge or deny it, so...

“Um... Inside a black lacquered palanquin, wearing a purple hooded robe... With a hand wrapped in crystal prayer beads, she presented those flowers. There was a person carrying a document box and a single stern-faced samurai-sama accompanying her.”

“Hmm.”
“Strange.”
“I can’t figure it out…”

“Hohohohohohoho…”

The young girl laughed out loud.
She seemed to think it was a joke.

“Milord has a great fondness for carp sashimi and kinome dengaku,” that noble personage informed us.
“So my brother hurriedly prepared them.”

Heima looked over the meal tray once more but involuntarily blushed.
He was reminded of that time in Odawara when, in a drunken haze, he had mindlessly stuffed his face while exclaiming how delicious everything was… But… mid-recollection, his face suddenly paled. Abruptly setting down his cup, he looked at the maid’s face.

“Call the innkeeper here for a moment.”

“Yes…”

With that, the young maid set down the sake warmer and stood up.
She left in a clattering hurry, clearly startled.

“Well now, well now… To approach without first inquiring after your honored mood… This humble innkeeper Sagoro at your service.”
“If the maid has been improper in some way… Heh-heh…”

“No.”
“That’s not what this is about.”
“Well… Come closer.”
“Actually, this is a confidential matter, you see…”

“Heh-heh… Ah, so that’s how it was.”
“Hey hey... Moreover, I must apologize for my belated mention—earlier, your companion showed us an unexpected kindness...”

“Ha ha ha.
“Actually, I wish to inquire about that companion of yours...”

“Well now, well now… What sort of matter would that be…”

“That companion of yours—the woman who carries herself like a noble lady—what sort of features did she possess…?”

“...Wha—?”
“What might you be referring to?”

“I wish to hear about the woman referred to as your companion.”

“Well now, well now... Since Milord isn’t aware...”

“Oh. This one knows not that woman.”

“Huh?!”
“This is most troubling...”

The innkeeper raised his white-haired head and widened his eyes.
He was a robust large man who appeared to be over sixty.
From his somewhat carelessly tied topknot to the particular way his haori hung, there was an air of peculiarity about him…

Heima remembered.
He had heard rumors that many innkeepers in these parts were former yakuza...

Heima's assumption was correct.

As Heima recounted the entire sequence of events, the old man’s posture transformed into one of dignified bearing, his hands properly placed on his knees.
He fixed his large black eyes directly on Heima’s face, but once the account concluded, he quietly closed them and crossed his arms.

“What a foolish oversight I’ve committed indeed. Had I myself had the honor of meeting her ladyship directly, matters might have been resolved… But while I was away settling some discreet business involving a young underling, that blasted whelp committed this outrageous impropriety…”

“No. It’s not something one would call improper… but… when you mention your son…”

“Heh-heh. The one who earlier attended to your back…”

“Ah. I see, I see. That was an oversight on my part.”

“There’s no need for such… This is entirely that outrageous blunderer’s doing.”
“Without discerning your honored person’s condition or inquiring after your convenience, he handled matters in this manner…”

Heima found himself blushing once more.

“Ha ha ha… There’s no need for that worry, I tell you.
“After all, this already happened once in Odawara as well.”
“In the end, this was entirely this one’s oversight, I tell you…”

“You honor this unworthy one too greatly.”

“But when you speak of a noble lady traveling with attendants... that tale strays too far from truth, I tell you.”
“Thinking that if I consulted the worldly-wise innkeeper, matters might grow clearer... yet in truth, I’ve imposed trouble upon you.”

“You humble this unworthy one.”
“Though my words fall woefully short of your kindness, I must confess this peculiar tale you’ve shared reaches my ears now for the very first time.”
“What could I possibly conceal from you?”
“I too was once a fool who walked both sides of the law—well… In these sixty years I’ve witnessed every manner of strangeness this world offers, but a fox-spirit so meticulously crafted as that has never trodden this highway…”

“Hmm… You say this is your first time…”

“Well now… Even sitting at the front desk here—as this lowly one grows accustomed to such work—one comes to make rough estimations not just of passing travelers’ statuses and occupations—to say nothing of townsfolk’s trades—but even of Edo’s current affairs and provincial domains’ political movements…”

“Indeed. So it would seem, so it would seem...”

“...Yet I dare say that since Ten’ichibō’s time, there has likely been no one as mystifying as this figure traveling this highway...”

“Hmm... What’s particularly extraordinary is that swiftness of movement.”
“This one’s legs can manage day trips of fifteen or eighteen ri... Though today’s journey from Yaizu to the Ōi River proved rather troublesome...”

Old man Sagoro widened his eyes slightly.

"Well now... That's quite a robust accomplishment indeed..."

"Especially being a woman, she would have ridden in a palanquin the whole way through, I tell you."

Sagoro nodded deeply.

"Precisely so."
"None could perform such feats as you described unless surpassing the swiftness of your honored feet... At any rate, I shall presently go forth to investigate the circumstances."
"I dare say she remains not too distant yet..."

“Ah, such formalities… If I were to make your aged self undertake such trouble… Though if you return with discretion, that would suffice, I tell you…”

“Heh-heh.”
“I must beg your pardon, but this lowly one still retains some old skills from my past… And I do have certain insights. Please entrust this matter to me.”
“Right away…”

“That… is most outrageous indeed, I tell you…”

“Ah…”
“There remains one further matter of importance.”
“If I may presume to inquire—did your lordship condescend to examine that youth’s vendetta permit… or perchance learn of the avowed foe’s native province and appellation?”

“No—or rather, I didn’t think it necessary to go that far, so I didn’t look into it…”

“…Most reasonable indeed… With your permission then, I shall make a brief investigation…”

...How utterly pitiable...

"There’s no need… What an outrageous imposition upon your..."

The old innkeeper Sagoro scurried out.

Before he could even process the thought, the young girl from earlier entered carrying another sake warmer.
As soon as she settled down squarely before Heima, she let out a high-pitched, clear voice.

“Please partake of the hot sake.”

Heima somehow felt as though a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

“Ahh… I’ve waited impatiently… Hmm.”
“This burns.”
“…A touch too scalding… Hah hah…”

“Pray forgive me… Hoho…”

“By the way—is the current master your father?”

“No.”
“He is my uncle.”
“He bid you to please take your leisure and then departed.”

“What… He’s already left?”

“Yes.”
“He said it would take two or three days if quick… but if delayed, about a month,” and then departed.

Heima was once again taken aback.

“Hmm. That’s no simple matter… To have gotten ready and left so quickly—”

“Yes. Sagoro has always prided himself that none can match his speed in travel preparations or fast walking.”

“Hmm…”

Yet when Heima entered the Chūgoku Road, he once again cleanly forgot about the young samurai.
This was likely because since Mitsuke Inn, the lavish inn meals had abruptly stopped.
In due course he forgot Sagoro too, reaching Fukuoka with homeward-yearning swiftness like an arrow’s flight.
Upon arrival he immediately attended his domain lord to complete his mission, restoring his honor as custom dictated.

Now, Heima had been in circumstances akin to an orphan since losing both parents early on. He had inherited a house as a low-ranking mounted retainer with a hundred-koku stipend, but being constantly occupied with his minor yet busy duties as a storehouse messenger, he spent most of his time traveling. Thus he had entrusted even his small residence in Masugoya to a young vassal from the domain named Kinsaku and Kinsaku’s widowed mother. However, when—taking advantage of this return home at his relatives’ urging to settle marriage arrangements—he requested temporary leave from duties and came to reside in that near-empty old residence, the loneliness and inconvenience stood in stark contrast to the lively company of Kasumigaseki’s senior officials and his carefree days on the road, now seeping into his very being with belated intensity. Days of tranquil spring—as though fallen into a well—began stretching endlessly onward, until even the habitually indifferent Heima seemed somewhat daunted.

One day... as if suddenly remembering, he gathered his gear and set out for the training hall of his mentor Asakawa Ichiryusai in Inaba-cho.

Asakawa Ichiryusai, of course, was overjoyed to train his beloved disciple after so long, but once the training concluded, he—

“Hoh-ho.”
“This is splendid.”
“Stay after training concludes.”
“There’s a bit to discuss.”

In the midst of saying this, he smiled somewhat and unfastened his gear.
Heima, having been subjected to a harsh training session, bowed breathlessly.
Heima also gladly remained to keep Ichiryusai company during his evening drinks.

Asakawa Ichiryusai, in excellent spirits, stroked back his salt-and-pepper topknot.
Heima, who had joined him, also turned bright red.

“Now.
Lord Heima… Your technique has improved.”

“Ah!
Though I say so myself—after being away from practice for some time—I was already out of breath... Hah...”

“No, no.
“Indeed, you’ve begun to move beyond the bamboo sword.”
“Now then, Lord Heima… Have you perhaps killed someone during this time?”
“No no—you’ve probably been present at live blade confrontations, I suppose.”

Heima turned pale without a word.
When standing before his mentor, he would tremble like a child.

“Hahaha.”
“That hit the mark, didn’t it?”
“Your combative distance and breathing rhythm have clearly shifted, haven’t they?”
“There’s no use hiding it.”
“I would ask you to recount the tale of your exploits.”
“Since we’ve come this far, let’s have it all out in the open, shall we?”

Heima had been unconsciously bracing himself with both hands when he finally regained his complexion and smiled faintly.
Realizing he wouldn't be reprimanded after all，he sighed in relief and accepted the tray.
His face flushing crimson，he began recounting events in halting fragments.

Yet as Ichiryusai listened to Heima’s blunt narration，his expression gradually darkened.
Eventually，even when the warmed sake grew cold and untouched，even when his wife approached with more drink only to be dismissed with a glance，he started restlessly crossing his arms.
And precisely as Heima finished speaking with timid hesitation，Ichiryusai released one heavy sigh thick with apparent indecision.

“Hmm…”
“That is quite an unexpected tale.”

“Ah! In truth, I too have been unable to unravel this mystery. In case it might have been due to my own carelessness, I have not yet disclosed this to anyone, but…”

“Ah. Had you spoken of this, it would have been your undoing.”

“Ah…”

Feeling something hot surging up to his head, Heima once again supported himself with both hands on the tatami.
Seeing this, Asakawa Ichiryusai abruptly softened his expression and offered a cup.

“Ahaha… No, I’m not scolding you, you know.”
“In the end, you remain young still, and it would seem this old instructor’s guidance thus far has had significant oversights.”

“No—absolutely not… All of it was my failure…”

“Ahaha.”
“Now, do not rush and listen… Having said this, you must already understand—the cultivation of martial prowess is not limited merely to archery and swordsmanship alone, you see…”

“Hah… Yes…”

“Comprehending human affairs—the various aspects of human sentiment and even the shifting changes in societal customs—to the fullest extent possible constitutes another vital discipline of martial cultivation.”
“For that is the sincere mindset of a samurai who unwaveringly upholds honesty and single-minded loyalty to navigate this world… Otherwise, one may be deceived by disloyal ilk and gravely err in service to the domain. …Though your recent lapse was but a momentary carelessness, even so—for you—it proved the finest medicine.”

“As you instruct...”

“Now, now.”
“Wait.”
“What follows, I shall deliberately not reveal.”
“In time, understanding may come... Be that as it may, that innkeeper Sagoro at Mitsuke is quite a man of considerable discernment.”
“It’s not merely the wisdom of age.”
“That he questioned you about the vendetta permit showed insight fit to startle demons and gods!”

“As… you say…”

Young Heima’s chest swelled with frustration.
Struggling not to show it, he bit his lip unbidden.

“Ahahaha.”
“Now then—do not rush and consider this carefully.”
“If I were to explain it plainly, it would not serve your training… Though once you complete this discipline here, I shall confer full mastery of our school…”

“Wh-what?”
“Um… The full mastery…”

“Hahaha.”
“Not a single one of the current disciples has yet been granted full mastery.”
“Have you grasped the intricacies of that…?”

Heima stiffened as if placed in a clamp.
Still unable to comprehend exactly what was happening, Heima hung his head helplessly as the cold sweat of shame and regret flowed across his entire body.

“Heima-dono…”

“Hah…”

“The matter of your marriage connections appears unsettled still, yet might it make for an apt tale…”

Heima instantly flushed crimson for an entirely different reason.
...he was made to recall with sudden clarity—as though realizing it anew—the fact that marriage proposals inundated his surroundings... that he faced circumstances diametrically opposed to “eight suitors for one daughter.”

“Hmm.”
“Then all the more reason indeed.”
“For thoroughness’ sake, I shall confirm this with you.”
“If by any chance that comely young samurai from our earlier discussion or the woman appearing as mistress of Mitsuke Inn were to come seeking you…”

“What? Would they come to visit… all the way here…?”

“Ah.”
“There is significant reason why they might very well come.”
“Now then—should such a person by any chance come seeking you—what course do you intend to take...?”

“Well... At that time... I would first express gratitude for their previous hospitality...”

“Ahahahahaha...”

Ichiryusai struck from behind and laughed heartily.

“Ahaha. No—that’s perfectly fine, that’s perfectly fine.”
“No—that’s perfectly fine, that’s perfectly fine.”
“That is precisely where your integrity shines.”
“As a human being, you’ve attained full mastery.”

Heima blinked repeatedly as he watched his mentor’s cheerful face.
He felt somehow unsatisfied, as if he were being mocked...
Yet Asakawa Ichiryusai continued staring at the ceiling and roared with laughter.

“Ahahaha… This one has been careless.”
“In my excessive concern for your future, I asked unnecessary questions.”
“It was ‘scratching before there’s an itch.’”
“Ahahaha.”
“Here, here.”
“Bring more sake... Come now, Lord Heima—let us share another cup.”
“You needn’t look so suspicious—it will become clear in time.”
“You will be alright.”
“You’ll surely avoid any lapse in judgment.”

Heima had carried a desk out to the south-facing veranda and was copying the Kuroda family genealogy. He found himself distracted from training, unable to shake off Ichiryusai’s remarks that had dismissed him as “naive about the world.”

At the shoe-removal stone just before his nose, Kinsaku—a young retainer shouldering a hoe—planted his hands with a dumbfounded expression.

“Um… I beg to report.”

“What is it, Kinsaku… Weeding work…?”

“Um… Well… At the front gate, there’s a group of young men who look like festival float dolls… They’ve arrived.”

“What… Doll-like young men…”

“Um... well... They were wearing swords.”

“...Their names...?”

“Um… Well… Tomokawa… Something…”

Heima wordlessly set down his brush and stood up.
With all the wonder and anxiety he had felt until now thump-thumping back to life in his chest at once...

However, when he went out to the entrance, there stood the young samurai exactly as first seen—large forelock, light blue collar, navy plain-patterned kimono, white hakama trousers, slender swords tucked close—poised as sleekly as a doll. Exposing his slightly sunburned cheek to morning light while smiling gently and bowing, he left Heima no choice but redden and return courtesy.

...How had he come to doubt such a pure, noble young samurai... he even began to doubt his own heart.

"...This is... why..."

"It has been an age."

The young samurai's ears were beautifully tinged carnation pink all the way to their tips, his eyes gleaming.

"Oh no.
First let us save talk for later... Please come this way.
I am alone here.
No need for formalities.
Here here—Kinsaku, Kinsaku.
Won't you prepare water for washing feet... Come now—though this is but a wretched place..."

Heima extended hospitality as if not himself.

The young samurai proceeded to the sitting room with impeccable formality and offered a bow of reunion since their last parting.
Heima too, flushing deeply as if belatedly conscious of it, mentioned the matters of the Odawara and Mitsuke inns.

“Well… actually… back then, I abruptly departed despite your gracious hospitality, so thinking to repay that kindness, I fully avenged your enemy… Hahaha…”

Heima was already laughing openly.

But the young samurai did not laugh.
He directed his gaze to the dazzling veranda plantings, but in those eyes, tears appeared to be pooling.

“…And have you accomplished your true purpose?”

“Yes.
“That… Well…”

As he spoke, tears overflowed from the young samurai's eyes—before one could process it, he collapsed onto the tatami mats, layering both sleeves beneath him as he began to sob with muffled cries.
...That slender nape... The soft curvature of the back... The swelling around the waist...

Heima was stunned.

...A woman... Without doubt a woman...

Even as this realization struck him, he forgot everything else and stood frozen in speechless shock.

...Why hadn't he noticed from the very beginning?... Had Master Ichiryusai's words been pointing to this all along?
Back then, he had been asked what measures to take... but this... what could this possibly be...?

He floundered inwardly.
He stroked his face and stood blankly.

Before Heima, a white hand moved and smoothly slid forward two letter-like items.
Still in that position， they bowed as if in prayer， and once again their choked sobbing voice grew composed.

Heima received them with his heart fluttering inexplicably.
While pressing it to his forehead, he opened the top letter.

On a tattered half-sheet of Chinese paper was a splendidly penned note written hastily in pale ink.

Last Will and Testament

1. Whereas, our father engaged in dispute with samurai of the Kuroda domain concerning current affairs at a certain sake establishment in Shinobazu, where being outnumbered and alone he sustained grave injuries, and died by seppuku in bitter regret.

1. The descendants of the father shall, for the sake of the Tokugawa, surely exact vengeance upon this enemy. This is hereby decreed.
Even should the bloodline be severed, it shall not be a problem.

1. One of the principal adversaries identifies himself as Asakawa Ichiryusai, swordsmanship instructor of the Kuroda domain: a tall man around fifty years of age, a warrior of robust build.

1. Matters hereafter shall be petitioned to Senior Councilor Lord Kuze Hirochika through maternal relatives. End.

Tomokawa Saburobei Norikane [Blood Seal]

Eldest son: Norimichi Chōichirō [Proxy Seal]

Second son: Sanjirou Noriyuki [Seal]

Bunkyū 2, May 14 (1862)

Moreover, upon another sheet of layered paper from the official missive, the lord’s characters were exquisitely inscribed in jet-black.

Attached separately: the last will and testament. In place of his infirm elder brother, the second son Tomokawa Sanjirou Noriyuki’s dedication to pursuing vengeance is deemed commendable.
However, due to pressing official matters, Hirochika at his sole discretion has attached and granted the provincial travel permits.
Furthermore, regarding the fulfillment of our true purpose, the name and lineage of father Saburobei shall remain undisputed; Hirochika shall take this into consideration and allow it.

Bunkyū Mizunoe Inu 2, June 2 (1862) Hirochika [Written Seal]

The color drained from Heima's face.
Just as he felt he had comprehended everything, his vision darkened once more, and without realizing it, he clenched the two letters in his hands.
He stared at the mysterious woman before him who targeted his own mentor as a sworn enemy.

At that moment, the woman in youth’s attire finally raised her face.
When she looked up at Heima’s ghastly expression, fresh tears streamed down as her lips quivered.

“It is… as you have seen.”
“While both my elder brother… and younger brother lay bedridden with consumption… this humble one alone… relying on what little skill I possessed with a short sword… submitted a false petition.”
“And then… and then, when permission was granted… I assumed the guise of a man as stated in the permit… and successfully crossed Hakone Checkpoint.”
“Then, to avoid arousing others’ suspicions, I altered my appearance in various ways—straining every effort to confess these feelings to you alone—yet all for naught, as a shrewd old man who seemed to suspect me of checkpoint evasion began dogging my steps from nowhere, leaving me no room to breathe during that terrifying chase… Afterward, I wandered lost all the way to Shikoku’s paths, enduring countless hardships until at last I managed to reach this place… only to find… the Ichiryusai I sought… was your own mentor…”

From the face that had squarely looked up at Heima, tears streamed down unrestrained. The trembling of her frame… the shuddering of her shoulders—by any measure, it showed the figure of a woman imbued with sincerity, her emotions surging forth.

Heima felt himself a damned soul plummeting into hell. He snapped his parched eyes wide open, staring fixedly into a distant, boundless void.

Before his eyes pressed a tear-drenched pale face. With it came the choking woman’s fragrance—

“And so… and so… this humble one… has come… to meet her end by your hand.”

Startled, Heima leaped back about two shaku.

“Wh... What...”

“...This humble one has abandoned father’s grudge—an unfilial woman am I.”
“From Odawara’s pine groves until now... I’ve done nothing but... think of you...”

“Wh—…”

“I… I have adored you…”
“Though I knew… I would not be slain… that you could not slay this enemy… still I came here.”
“At least… by your hand… this single resolve… desiring to receive judgment… wishing to receive it…”

As she spoke, the young samurai bit her lip sharply and slid backward. …In that moment—her cheeks glowing like spectral flames with indescribable resolve, her eyes blazing—she thrust the dagger from her bosom toward Heima’s throat without even revealing the motion of drawing it.

“Ah—”
“Don’t misunderstand… Don’t you dare!”

Heima, having barely leaped back to the right, still maintained his seated posture with both hands resting on his knees.

“Have you gone mad?! A foe remains a foe… I remain myself…” he shouted with desperate urgency to snap her from madness.

The young samurai figure who had thrust at empty air now shook with disheveled bangs plastered to her forehead. Seeming to accept her inferiority, she closed tear-swollen eyes beneath his roar—only to wrench them open again moments later, pupils blazing like twin pyres.

“Y-you… coward!” she spat through trembling lips. “To slay that enemy… interfering… You alone stand in my way!”

“Wh—… So it’s you…!”

“Be prepared now…!”

The desperate scream tore through the garden like ripping silk.
A white flash shot toward Heima’s chest—but his hand seizing the alcove’s short sword moved faster.
He slashed downward at her rising shoulder.

She lunged toward his blade tip only to drop her dagger and stagger back.
Falling onto her back with fingers tightly interlocked,
she slowly drew up her knees.
Tear-filled eyes gazed up at Heima as she smiled faintly.

“This heart’s desire… this heart’s desire… is fulfilled.”
“Heima-sama...”

As she spoke these words, the collar of her diagonally slashed robe fluttered open. Like a full moon emerging through crimson clouds, her breasts appeared, quivering and trembling.

“I cannot… atone… I cannot… make amends…”
“Everything until now… all of it… all of it… was false… The truth is… this humble one is… a woman… a female performer…”

Cutting off her words, she tilted her face heavily toward Heima—though… it seemed more from pain than intent. She closed her eyes and vomited copious blood. As one watched, she bit her lower lip deeply, her small white jaw beginning to twitch spasmodically.

Heima stood dazed, still holding up his bloodied sword.

“Yes…”
“I humbly beseech you.”
“Is there no one here to receive us?”
“This lowly one is a person known as Sagoro of Mitsuke.”
“Is there anyone present?”
“I humbly beseech you… I humbly beseech you… I humbly beseech you…”

He listened to the urgent guiding voice as if it were another's affair.

Ichiryusai languidly raised his shoulders and nodded.

“No.
The safe conclusion of affairs brings immeasurable joy... Let us first share a ceremonial cup...”

Ishizuki Heima, clad in his formal crest-bearing kimono after attending the inspector’s summons regarding the slaying of a counterfeit samurai, and the elderly Sagoro of Sango-ya—dressed in plain striped cotton with a townsman’s low-ranking hakama trousers—had been invited on their return journey and were being entertained at dinner.
Ichiryusai, having tilted the large platter, had already grown eloquent.

“Though I acted on my own discretion—they were someone who possessed even an ostensible Senior Councilor’s permit.”
“Had we callously cut them down, it would not have been a matter resolved peacefully… particularly in these times when Edo’s prestige now lies trampled in the dirt.”
“Moreover, this outcome stems from elderly Sagoro’s supplementary testimony having been impeccable from the very beginning.”
“The head clerk himself had spoken of it with admiration.”

“What have I done to deserve this… Only clumsiness…”

“No—considering this counterfeit young samurai who breached checkpoints was no ordinary villain threatening the realm’s stability, and given how our domain officials pursued their entanglement with him this far—even a Senior Inspector would find no grounds for complaint. Especially as Senior Councilor Kuze Hirochika-dono has only recently been relieved of his post… To issue clumsy reprimands now would risk exposing that bungled vendetta permit to public scrutiny.”
“Come to think of it, Heima-dono has obtained himself a most convenient ‘living target,’ has he not?”
“Ha ha ha...”

The wife who had been pouring drinks nodded as if genuinely impressed while looking at Heima’s face.

“In the castle town these past four or five days since then, there’s been nothing but talk of Lord Heima…”

“Hmm, hmm. That may well be… No. A splendid deed it was, Lord Heima. When I asked what you intended to do about that situation—this matter—back then… Ha ha. You judged well indeed. Innkeeper Sagoro. Wouldn’t you agree…?”

“Your discernment is impeccable. From Master’s unwavering dedication to your decisive judgment that prevented retreat in that moment, and your swordsmanship… Witnessing them felt like a dream.”

“Hmm, hmm. However. The acuity with which the elderly Sagoro discerned that woman’s true identity from Lord Heima’s account is also quite extraordinary indeed. In truth, it was with the desire to hear that tale of valor that I instructed Lord Heima to detain you in this manner… It should serve as a lesson for my disciples as well.”

“Your words overawe this unworthy one—most undeserved honor.”
“Though lacking merit to speak at length, five suspicions arose when first hearing Lord Ishizuki’s account.”

“Ah… Concerning those suspicions…”

“First among doubts was this tale of a vengeance-driven young samurai bearing a scent pouch.”
“Most incongruous… While entertaining suspicions this masked feminine odors—indeed, later details in Lord Ishizuki’s narrative revealed moments no woman could perform… This formed the second…”

“Most reasonable indeed… And then…”

“Thirdly, their swiftness of foot… Fourthly, their extraordinary spending… And fifthly, their astonishing transformations in appearance—this lowly one submits.”

“My… What a fearsomely rigorous deduction.”

“To summarize the aforementioned points—this must be an unparalleled female outlaw. Otherwise, one such as described in your account could never have displayed such quick-wittedness and decisive action—this was the foundation of my reasoning…”

“Hmm, hmm…”

“I humbly acknowledge this may seem like an old man’s meddling,” Sagoro said with a self-deprecating chuckle, “but as you see, I’ve long since crossed sixty’s peak and now tread life’s downward slope.” He leaned forward, calloused hands miming cart shafts. “This lowly one was hauling empty air at the time—thought I might land the catch of a lifetime for my return fare… Yet once hooked into this grand venture, Lord Ishizuki had already struck first by a mere stride…” His wheezing laugh rattled like dried reeds. “No honor remains for this withered frame.”

“Nonsense,” Ichiryusai countered, swirling his sake cup. The lamplight deepened the creases around his eyes as he appraised the innkeeper. “Your veteran’s eye sees true nevertheless.” His voice dropped to a conspiratorial growl. “She’s no common jade to leave footprints for any dullard’s following.”

“By the way—while ever grateful for your gracious words—there remains one doubt this lowly one must humbly voice.”
“I beg forgiveness for this impertinence…”

“Not in the slightest.”
“No hesitation is required.”
“Ask freely whatever you wish to know.”

“Heh heh.”
“I am deeply grateful.”
“Then—if I may humbly inquire—when you say you discerned both the true nature and mechanism of that vendetta permit through Lord Ishizuki’s account…”

“Ha ha.”
“Ah, so that’s what this was about.”
“In that case, it’s nothing at all.”
“A trifling matter.”

“You… mean to say…”

“Hmm. I expect you’ll have further questions later—the truth is, this one too had some dealings with that woman.”

“Huh?!”
“This too was beyond my wildest expectations.”

“To put it plainly: It was an unforgettable event at the end of October last year. While attending to our lord’s official business in Edo after a long absence, I found myself confronted by none other than the petitioner himself—a young samurai calling himself Tomokawa Noriyuki, who declared me his father’s sworn enemy, I tell you…”

“Huh?!”
“A truly mysterious account indeed…”

“Ah, yes. Moreover, at that conspicuous location near the riding grounds—with two samurai who seemed to be seconds flanking them—I must confess it rather rattled my nerves. An embarrassing admission... though I truly have no recollection of the matter...”

“Ah, I see... Most reasonable...”

“But I couldn’t treat them carelessly. Withdrawing instantly upon sensing some hidden motive,” he continued, “I stated plainly—‘I am indeed Asakawa Ichiryusai of Kuroda domain. What possible grievance could justify naming me your sworn enemy? Do you possess a proper vendetta permit?’ When I pressed them—they claimed to have had one, but said it had been stolen along with their possessions in Asakusa Kannon’s precincts.”

“Ah ha!”
“I believe I now grasp the situation.”

“Hmm, hmm…”
“So… If that’s how it stands, I must regrettably decline this accusation of enmity.”
“Just as I was about to leave after declaring I had not the slightest recollection… the three of them—she and her seconds—drew their blades in unison and attacked.”
“However, these two seconds turned out to be rather notorious pro-shogunate ronin who had apparently recognized this one’s face and guided Tomokawa’s hand—though in truth, all three were quite formidable.”
“At first I thought to subdue them with blunt strikes, but as it grew increasingly untenable, I abandoned engaging the young samurai first and instead turned my blade to swiftly defeat the two others—leaving matters unresolved… Yet even so, I found myself pitying that youth deeply. Later, when I inquired into rumors, it turned out some vagrant ronin—who had been impersonating this one’s name while carousing—had accosted a certain hatamoto named Tomokawa at another establishment as he drank, slain him under false pretenses, then fled without paying for their meal.”
“So the two brothers who rushed to that Tomokawa’s bedside wrote down their father’s dying words and submitted a vendetta petition—but this certain Tomokawa samurai had no children save those two brothers.”
“Of these two, the elder brother had indeed succeeded to the family headship, but his poor health rendered him unfit.”
“However, since the younger brother was a licensed practitioner of the Chiba school, the permit was issued to him… That appears to be the true account.”
“There was indeed a careless license holder, but ultimately, that’s where the mistaken vendetta began… As primary evidence—during that May when the hatamoto was slain, this old instructor was still stationed in Fukuoka domain… Ha ha ha.”
“A tale not worth telling, but…”

Old man Sagoro, who had been listening intently, suddenly slapped his knee. He cheerfully nodded.

“Ah. So the truth has finally become clear, I tell you.”
“In truth, I too had heard that rumor from guests passing through Mitsuke and found it somewhat strange… The reason I mention this is nothing else but—”
“Though in Edo these days, daily killings are nothing particularly unusual, the tale you just recounted—the counterattack at the riding grounds—became quite the sensational topic throughout the city…”

“Oh ho.”
“Was it truly that much talked about?”

“When things go wrong, they go terribly wrong… It would seem that young Tomokawa samurai truly met his end in that counterattack.”
“It is said he passed away lamenting ‘How bitter! How bitter!’ and through the family crest on the remains, it was revealed he was Lord Tomokawa’s second son.”
“In connection with that, it came to light that the two seconds were also two senior disciples from the same school—but even so, just how many opponents did they manage to counterattack?”
“Though all three seconds appeared to be skilled swordsmen, you dispatched them while still wearing your formal coat and wooden clogs—cutting them down with a single stroke before departing with such composure. A gentleman of your caliber would surely have become renowned throughout Edo, I tell you…”

“Ha ha ha. Though Tomokawa’s elder brother and even Lord Kuze—who had retired from service—likely knew that name, when your opponent is the Kuroda domain of Kasumigaseki, matters are never simple, I tell you…”

“As Your Excellency states.”
“However, there emerged yet another lawless soul undaunted by such august authority… To elaborate, this was a female pickpocket ringleader who had stolen that very permit—one Okumi, formerly a traveling performer under Edo’s surveillance—who reportedly thrust herself into this notorious affair…”

“Hmm.”
“We’re finally nearing the truth, I see.”

“As Your Excellency states.”
“Okumi was said to be a beauty of around twenty years, yet an audacious soul of rare mettle. Upon hearing of this affair, she found it most pitiable—‘This humble one knows the name of your adversary.’”
“She attached a letter pledging vengeance and entrusted a substantial sum of gold coins to her sickly elder brother… This matter became quite the sensational news… Truly, it’s beyond fathoming how far this delusion has spiraled…”

“Ha ha ha.”
“The world may well be such a thing...”

“However vast Edo may be said to be, that there could exist such an eccentric female companion… I never could have imagined in my wildest dreams…”

“Hmm, hmm…”
“Ah, that matter! Precisely that matter.”
“To tell the truth, this old instructor too had faintly caught wind of such rumors during my time in Edo.”
“She must be spreading such tales to make a name for herself.”
“While I thought it was completely the opposite... and had neglected to address it, when I then heard Lord Heima’s account, I was truly taken aback, I tell you.”
“Her theatrics have gone too far…”

“As Your Excellency states.”
“However, that woman too must have initially assumed the guise of a vendetta seeker out of sheer determination to cross the checkpoints using the permit and certificate before her notoriety had spread.”
“At the time, I surmised she had planned to venture into the Kansai region next to undertake some major undertaking…”

“Indeed——… However, being pursued by a man of your caliber like Sagoro-dono would not be something easily shaken off.”
“Depending on circumstances, it’s not impossible she might flee into this direction.”
“Moreover, should she enter this castle town, her first move would naturally be to seek out Lord Heima—precisely because I foresaw this standard strategy, I deliberately refrained from demonstrating this one’s innocence, intending instead to test his mettle.”
“No—… Well done… Well done…”

“Truly a masterful handling of the matter, Your Excellency.”

“Ha ha ha… Lord Heima may not look it, but he’s a man solely devoted to martial prowess, I tell you…”

The two men lavishly praised Heima while repeatedly refilling their sake cups.
Even the lady who had been pouring drinks forgot her decorum and became entranced by Heima’s profile.

However, Heima could only manage a wry smile.
While at every lull in the conversation he recalled the visage of the woman who had attacked him with blazing eyes, Heima left Ichiryusai’s residence without truly tasting the sake.

The full moon shone clear, as if cut out from the azure sky.

"...So this is full mastery..."

While muttering to himself, Heima looked up at Maizuru Castle enveloped by black forest.

A single tear pooled in Heima's eye.
Within that tear, the white castle keep beneath the moon swayed unsteadily and crumbled away.
And in its place appeared the crisp figure of a bewitching young samurai. He watched those lips quiver and pale as they repeated "...My deepest wish..." over and over.

When he returned home to Masugoya along Horigata-zutsumi, Heima quietly tidied his belongings and began preparing for his journey.
After slipping out of the mansion while listening to the breathing of the manservant and hired old woman, he snugly pasted a notice to the gate door.

"Humbly stated: Ishizuki Heima, having received hospitality from one of female bandit disposition, is henceforth no samurai. Having betrayed the exalted benevolence of liege and master-teacher, and having concealed myself away, I earnestly entreat you to cast all remembrance aside. With deepest obeisance."

Under the pretense of urgent official business in Edo, Heima had passed through Masugata Gate, crossed Ishido River, and hurried eastward along the highway when he suddenly stopped and looked up at the sky.
The moon streamed and shone upon pine treetops, extinguishing all starlight.

Heima felt like crying out loud.
Biting his lip, he looked around front and back—

"Hah... That old man from Sanmigoya might have noticed by now and come chasing after me."
Dealing with that old man would be troublesome... Yes... I should slip away now while I can.
"No matter how far I go... this feeling will never cease..."

Muttering to himself repeatedly, he turned back and slipped into the grounds of Sōfuku-ji—the Kuroda family's ancestral temple within Hakozaki Pine Grove. Inside the gate, he settled heavily onto the large prayer stone before the Muen Pagoda. Quietly loosening his undergarments while drawing his dagger from its sheath.

He closed his eyes and once again visualized the young samurai’s figure.

Ah... Ah... It was not this Heima who cut down Somoji. Bushido of social propriety... Bushido ignorant of human sincerity... Bushido no different from beasts' struggles... A misguided bushido obsessed with glory and achievement—that’s what it was! ...Thanks to Somoji, Heima had finally come to understand true bushido...had come to understand the human world, I tell you.

……Heima’s life was now dedicated to Somoji.
There is nothing left to regret… Namu…