Pathway to Japanese Literature

Time: Unknown.
However, feudal era—late autumn.
From before sunset until late into the night.

Place: Harima Province, Himeji.
White Heron Castle's keep, fifth floor.

Characters:

Mistress of the Keep, Tomihime.
(Apparent age: 27 or 28) Iwate Province, Inawashiro—Turtle Castle's Kamehime.
(Apparent age: around twenty) Himekawa Toshosuke.
(Young falconer) Odawara Shuri.
Yamasumi Kuhei.
(Both retainers of Takeda Harima-no-kami, lord of Himeji Castle) Jūmonjigahara, Shunobanbō.
Jitanbauba of Kayano Plain.
(Both retainers of Kamehime) Omi no Jō Momoroku.
(Craftsman) Kikyo.
Hagi.
Kuzu.
Ominaeshi.
Nadeshiko.
(All maidservants of Tomihime) Usugi.
(Likewise, palace attendants) Girl attendants—kamuro (young female servants), five.
Samurai, attackers, a great number.

Stage.
The keep's fifth floor.
Pillars stood to the left and right; three facing sides were left open like corridors, while the remaining side was entirely covered with high Korean-edged tatami mats laid out.
Red drum cords, tied into bow knots at intervals to form a single strand, were arranged like a handrail and spanned between the pillars.
Using the same drum cord reinforcement ropes, a ladder had been installed in the depths of the corridor to the right.
The ladder extended high into the ceiling.
In the depths of the left-side corridor, there were also upper and lower openings for another ladder.
In the central rear and halfway along the right corridor, wide arrow slits and loopholes had been constructed using thick walls.
The exterior offered a distant view of mountains and autumn clouds.
In the wall was a door for coming and going.
Outside the drum-cord handrail, on the left side, roof ridges and tiles were visible alongside the treetops of standing trees.
The front similarly showed the treetops of densely growing trees.

Three girl attendants—Chorus—

"What place’s narrow path is this—this narrow path—

Tenjin-sama’s narrow path is this—this narrow path—"

—Singing, the curtain rose—

Five maidservants.
Kikyo, Ominaeshi, Hagi, Kuzu, Nadeshiko.
Each bearing forms suited to their names, they stood or sat along the drum-cord handrail, hands holding spools wound with five-colored silk threads—golden and silver rods threaded through them—passing strands through lofty pine and cedar treetops as they assumed fishing postures.

The three girl attendants, clad in scarlet kimonos, continued their song—voices clear yet forlorn.

Please let us pass, please let us pass.

If you've no business here, we shan't let you through—shan't let you through.

To Tenjin-sama we go to make our vows—make our vows.

“Let us through, let us through.”

Singing, they continued their game.

Usugi emerged from within the castle keep’s wall. A section of the wall opened freely like a door—this woman somewhat advanced in years. A tortoiseshell hairpin; the attire of the palace maidservants.

Usugi: “Miss Hozuki, Miss Tonbo.”

Girl Attendant 1: “Yes.”

Usugi: “Be quiet, will you? The cleaning has just been finished.”

Girl Attendant 2: “Let’s go watch the fishing, shall we?”

Girl Attendant 3: “I suppose so.”

Nodding innocently to one another, their sleeves fluttered amidst the maidservants.

Usugi (glancing around): “Well now—this is truly a splendid view.”

Kuzu: “Ah—the Princess of Inawashiro has come to visit.”

Kikyo: “We thought it must feel rather oppressive.”
“Though indeed, it’s perfect weather for it—the distant mountains have already turned crimson.”

Ominaeshi: “As for the arrow slits and watchtowers too—those unsightly mud-and-iron fixtures weighing down the exterior—we’ve cleared them away for now.”

Usugi: “Indeed, indeed. For ones who usually idle about so much, it’s remarkable you’ve noticed such a thing.”

Kikyo: “My, what unkind things to say! When have we ever been idle, I ask you?”

Usugi: “My, while uttering such words—what exactly are you doing here? It’s not as though you’re trying to apply eye drops from the second floor—since when does one go fishing from the keep’s fifth floor? The Milky Way does not flow through the grass. Even if you claim there’s ample time while Lady Tomihime is away on her outing, this is no trifling game.”

Nadeshiko: “No, we are not fishing for fish.”

Kikyo: “Since there are no flowers to arrange before our lord at present, we all thought to gather and offer them by fishing for... that is, autumn grasses.”

Usugi: “Flowers... autumn grasses?”
“Well now, this is quite an unusual thing to hear.”
“And well—can you actually catch anything, I ask you?”

She grabbed the shoulder of one of the girl attendants with her sleeve and peered in.

Kikyo: “Oh yes, we can catch them. It’s a new invention, you see.”

“Don’t speak so arrogantly,” said Usugi. “However—to be thorough in my inquiry—do you employ it? …It concerns the ritual of the bait, you see.”

“Yes—that would be white dew,” replied Nadeshiko.

“Oh my,” said Kuzu, “the thousand grasses—the ten thousand autumn grasses—they do crave so much dew at this time, you see. The hour is already the seventh, and there is neither evening dew nor night dew yet.” She glanced at her neighbor. “Do look—Lady Ominaeshi has already caught so very much.”

“Oh, really now,” said Usugi. “If autumn grasses can indeed be caught, well then, I shall observe quietly. Because they say it’s bad to be talkative when fishing, you know. ……The quietest one, Lady Ominaeshi, has caught so much—can’t argue with that, can you?”

“No, since this isn’t fishing for fish, you may make noise or even sing if you wish,” Ominaeshi replied. “Only take care that the wind doesn’t grow unruly… The dew bait would scatter away with a patter if it did.” She paused as her line tensed. “Ah—I’ve caught one!”

“Splendid.”

At that moment, Ominaeshi swiftly reeled in the frame while holding her rod; following the thread，autumn grasses ascended to the handrail.
She passed them to the girl attendant’s hand along with flowers previously placed nearby.

“I caught one!” Kikyo announced.
(Similarly reeled in the thread.)

“Oh, I also...” Hagi began.

Following the flowers, a cloud of yellow, white, and purple butterflies fluttered up.

“That’s it—me too— Oh my, how demure,” Kuzu murmured.

Usugi demanded, “Kikyo, lend me the rod. I’ll try fishing too—truly admirable, no trouble at all!”

Ominaeshi cautioned, “Wait, please—a fierce wind has risen; the bait won’t cling to the thread.”

“What spiteful wind—it’s turned fierce all of a sudden,” Usugi complained.

Hagi observed, “Ah, the autumn grasses in the inner bailey were rippling in beautiful waves.”

As they spoke—the colors withdrew into hiding—and only pampas grass came flowing pure white like water.

Kuzu: “The sky—black clouds scud across!”

Usugi: “Since earlier, I’d thought both fields and mountains strangely dark—this has turned into a dreadful downpour.”

The stage darkened; lightning flashed.

“Where could the Lady have gone?” Nadeshiko murmured. “If only Her Ladyship would return soon.”

As was her custom—without uttering a word about her destination or purpose—she had slipped away.

Hagi: "She hasn’t even come to greet us."

Usugi: "Her Ladyship remains mindful of Lady Kame’s appointed hour—she shall return before long.—Now then—everyone must swiftly prepare the heartfelt offerings—the autumn grasses—that would be best."

Ominaeshi—precisely before the dew could scatter.

――

At the central rear of the front chamber stood an armor chest beside a round pillar. Upon it rested solemnly a lion head ornament—golden eyes glinting, silver fangs bared, indigo-hued visage framed by a sprout-green brocade cloak and tail swirling with crimson patterns.

The maidservants and girl attendants approached together, knelt before it, and each began inserting autumn grasses into flower baskets.
A cloud of butterflies—their wings shimmering yellow, white, and purple—took flight in unison, dancing about the chamber.
A low rumble of thunder murmured through the air.
Rain began falling.

“Behold—its eyes blaze, and its fangs appear to move.”

“Both the flowers and butterflies please you—you must be delighted.”

Lightning flashed.
Through the midst of the light—rushing and surging toward where the butterflies streamed—stood a ladder that led to the towering castle keep’s ridgepole, nearly piercing the ceiling.
—The maidservants, following the path of the fluttering butterflies, gazed together in that direction.

“Oh! The Lady has returned.”

Fluttering around the platform, the maidservants in long-sleeved and short-sleeved kimonos all knelt and pressed their hands to the floor.
From above the ladder first appeared the pale blue garment’s hem, drawing the skirt.
Immediately came into view the figure wearing a straw raincloak.
Long black hair, a bamboo hat in one hand half-veiling her face—the beautiful and noble lady, Mistress of the Keep, Tomihime.

Tomihime (opens her straw raincloak and catches on one sleeve a few butterflies fluttering about her form): “Is this a welcome? You’ve gone to such trouble.”
*(To the butterflies.)*

“Welcome back, Your Ladyship—welcome back—” The maidservants greeted her in unison.—

Her Ladyship would occasionally embark on sudden, gale-like outings on a whim...

She abruptly dropped the bamboo hat.
Ominaeshi caught it.
Your face was dreadfully white and pallid.

"You who wouldn’t scatter even a dewdrop—how pitiable the flowers look."
(Descending halfway, unsteady on the platform—her skirt spilling into the corridor.)

Usugi: "What an unbecoming thing for you to deign to do."
"Oh, Your Ladyship—wearing such a thing as that!"

"Did it suit me?"

Usugi: "Moreover, Your Ladyship—you have grown so thin."
"You appear more graceful than a willow, having so smoothly donned that rain-wet miscanthus."

“Lies, all of it,” said Her Ladyship. “I borrowed it from Koyamada’s scarecrow.”

“No—even so,” replied Usugi, “when Your Ladyship dons it, one might mistake it for armor woven of jade, silver, and swaying threads.”

Her Ladyship found the cloak had grown slightly heavier from the praise.
(She removed the straw raincloak.) “Take this.”

Nadeshiko stood, received it, and nimbly hung it over the handrail.

A number of butterflies rested their wings upon that straw raincloak.
Her Ladyship, nodding in acknowledgment to the lion head ornament, took her seat upon the cushion.
An elbow rest.

The maidservants attended to her.

"I’ve grown rather weary… Lady Kame hasn’t yet arrived, has she?"

Usugi: “Yes, Lady Kame should be arriving shortly.”
“In any case—we had been awaiting Your Ladyship’s return—and where might you have ventured?”

“I went to Yasha Pond.”

Usugi: “Oh! The remote mountain depths of Ōno District in Echizen Province, where human traces have vanished—”

Hagi: “Um... To Yasha Pond.”

Kikyo: “For a visit?”

Her Ladyship: “Well, you could call it a visit of sorts—but there was... a small matter I wished to ask of Lady O-Yuki of the great pond.”

Usugi: “Starting with myself—we are all here. Had Your Ladyship sent someone instead of coming yourself, why—you wouldn’t have been caught in this rain.”

“I went to request that rain. Today, you see—this Himeji Castle… From here it appears as a nagaya, but… The master of that nagaya—Lord Harima—has gone hawking in the autumn fields and mountains with a great retinue. You all must be aware of this already. The sky is high, and the cries of migratory birds and songbirds are delightful—but those fief holders, scampering about with shrill cries through fields and paddies alike, their loud voices are a clamor. Still, if it were merely hawks, I might endure it. Lately, their uncouth bows and guns have stirred up such commotion that the clamor becomes clamor upon clamor. Above all, you—I thought it discourteous to my guest, Lady Kame journeying by palanquin through the mists of this vast sky—so with rain, wind, and storm gods, I scattered the hawking procession. Well—it was to make that request that I went to Lady O-Yuki of Yasha Pond.”

Usugi: “It stands to reason—this untimely rain seemed sudden indeed.”

Her Ladyship: “Is the rain limited to these grounds?”
“Merely lingering ripples from a passing squall.”
“The hawkers ventured far—look toward Himeji Field’s mile-marker mounds.”
“Clouds blacker than moonless night, lightning bright enough to blind—even terrible hail fell.”
“The hunting party clustered like minnows in a stream about the pines marking burial mounds—floundering helplessly, their bamboo hats bobbing like corks, surcoats streaming like banners.”
“Those who drew blades deserved at least this drenching.”
“Their panicked crests foamed like river spume.”
“Some hitched up field hakama hems, exposing moxa scars.”
“Oh, how absurd!”
(Smiling) “Even sparrows tallying millet grains one-two fare better in sudden showers.”
“Men glutting alone on five hundred koku, three hundred koku, a thousand koku—their folly beggars words.”
“Ridiculous yet pitiful—don’t you agree?”

“Yes.”

“As for me—I stood quietly on the return path at Murasagimine Peak’s mountain edge, using hung rice plants as a shield to watch.”
“There was a daytime moon there—its shadow pressing upon this pale blue sleeve like wild geese.”
“The shadow appeared like strung jade beads.”
“Lady O-Yuki of Yasha Pond maintained her composure amidst the tempest—the fields beneath black clouds, the mountaintops lapis blue—all her design.”
“Even so, through gales and torrential rains, our arrangement was to drive back the hawking party without letting their feet or hips find rest.”
As they flowed from afar like a muddy river across that wilderness beneath racing black clouds—having left the pines behind—the pursuing winds blew crosswise.
“When a sudden shower swept into where I watched too, I borrowed a straw raincloak and scarecrow’s hat without composing verse—then came here.”
“Ah—those dragonflies and lantern plants yonder—have the youngsters keep them awhile; we’ll return them later.”

“There’s truly no need for that,” said Usugi.

“No no—farmers’ belongings are precious,” replied Her Ladyship. “They must not be treated lightly.”

“I understand,” Usugi acquiesced. “But Your Ladyship—rather than that, please do change your attire. Your garments are damp—this must be most unpleasant.”

“Thanks to you all, I did not get wet,” she responded. “Though there’s nothing unpleasant about it—even among women who need not stand on ceremony, it would be discourteous to Lady Kame to remain like this.”
(Rising) “Shall I change?”

Ominaeshi: “While we’re at it, your hair as well, Your Ladyship.”

Her Ladyship: “Ah, let me have you do it.”

Following Her Ladyship, everyone hid within the door in the wall.
The remaining girl attendants sang in chorus—

Where is this narrow path? This narrow path?

Lord Tenjin’s narrow path—this narrow path.

Entering via the ladder connecting to the ridge came Shunobanbō—chief retainer to Kamehime, master of Inawashiro Castle’s Thousand-Mat Hall in Maya District, Iwate Province—dressed as a great yamabushi mountain ascetic: a single rhinoceros-like horn upon his head, round eyes glaring from a face redder than vermilion, hands and legs blue like gourds. With a small bucket wrapped in white cloth tucked under his arm, he circled around a pillar, peered inside, and watching the girl attendants at play, broke into a grin and laughed.
Shunobanbō: *Clack clack clack clack.*
The sound of teeth clacking rang out.
As the girl attendants ran closer, they brought their faces close and opened their mouths wide.

“Enough of that!”
(imitating a beast’s roar to intimidate)

“Disgusting old man,” said Girl Attendant One.

“Not scary at all,” said Girl Attendant Two.

*Clack-clack-clack-clack!* Shunobanbō’s teeth rattled. With a gruff laugh, he continued: “Ah, just as expected of Lady Tomihime’s young attendants in Himeji Keep—armed with such cunning that even Oshu’s foremost crimson visage can’t make you budge! This one concedes defeat.” He straightened up. “Now then, let me renew my request for guidance to the inner chambers.”

“Gramps came through the roof?” Girl Attendant Three tilted her head.

“What a greeting!” Shunobanbō’s face reddened further. “Simply announce that I’ve come from Inawashiro! Go on—announce me!”

Girl Attendant 1: “I don’t know.”

“Bleh!”
(She stuck out her crimson tongue.)

“What manner of occurrence is this—” Shunobanbō straightened upright, then boomed: “This one shall provide guidance!”

Usugi: “There we are.”
(Emerging from the wall) “From where?”

Shunobanbō: “This one is Shunobanbō—master of Intenkan Hall and vanguard of Oshu’s metamorphoses—who resides near Aoi Goren in Jūmonji-hara, Aizu District, Iwate Province.”
“That is to say, I have come forth as an attendant to Lady Kame of Inawashiro Castle.”
“I request an audience with Her Ladyship Tomihime, Lady of the Keep.”

Usugi: “I acknowledge your service in attendance.”
“And Your Highness—?”

Shunobanbō: (Craning upward at the ceiling) “Her Highness already keeps her palanquin waiting upon the roof ridge.”

Usugi: “My Lady too has long awaited.”

She clapped her hands.
At the sound, three maidservants emerged.
They prostrated themselves in unison.

“Now then, pray do come in.”

Shunobanbō: (To the sky) “Report to those by the palanquin.”
“We too stand ready to receive you here.”
“Princess, pray enter this way. Jitanbauba—see to the formalities.”

From atop the ladder emerged first the girl with a bobbed haircut, holding up a lovely handball in both sleeves.

Kamehime wore a long-sleeved kimono and ceremonial uchikake robe, her hair arranged in an elaborate chignon as she held a folding fan. Another girl attendant held up a dagger behind her. Following behind came Jitanbauba in a stiffened silk robe yellowed with age and tarnished crimson hakama.

The Mistress of the Keep emerged with maidservants and took her seat at the prepared place.

Usugi (looking up at Kamehime from below): “Princess.”

The maidservants who had come forth to greet all prostrated themselves.

Kamehime: “I beg your pardon.”

She demurely took her seat in the visitor’s area.
As she faced the Mistress, both pressed their knees firmly against the cushions from either side.

The Mistress (smiling affectionately) “Lady Kame.”

“Elder Sister, how I’ve missed you.”

“I too have missed you—”

(A pause.)

Ominaeshi: “Mistress.”
(She offered tobacco with a long-stemmed pipe.)

The Mistress took it and smoked.
(Passing the mouthpiece to the Princess) “I hear you’ve been partaking of late.”

“Yes—both,” Kamehime replied.
(Accepting it, she smoked while mimicking a cup with her left hand.)

“This is rather trying,” said the Mistress.
(She chuckled again.)

“Hohoho, I shan’t make you into a husband.”

“You have a wicked tongue.”
“Well then—to come all the way from Inawashiro to this Himeji... a journey of five hundred *ri*, no less... old one.”

Jitanbauba: “As Your Ladyship says. … By crossing seas and mountains through the wind’s conveyance, it would not amount to half a day’s journey—yet were we to traverse each lodging, five hundred *ri*… nay, five hundred thirty *ri* it would surely be.”

“Ah, well,” said the Mistress. “So you’ve come all this way just to play kemari?”

“Since that is so,” replied Kamehime, “Elder Sister must find me adorable.”

“No,” countered the Mistress. “You wicked thing.”

“Have it your way.” Kamehime let her folding fan clatter to the floor.

“You really are adorable after all.” The Mistress embraced her from behind and turned to address the attending girl. “There now—show me.” She took up the handball with a sigh. “How pretty! You might have brought one for me too.”

Shunobanbō: “Hah! (Producing the white cloth bundle) From Princess Kame—to Your Ladyship—a token of regard.”
“Though presumptuous to say, this should meet Your Ladyship’s approval.”
“Well... Princess?”
(Gauging her reaction.)

Kamehime: “Ah, do open it. There’s no need for formality here at your own sister’s abode.”

The Mistress: “How truly delightful. But Lady Kame—how wicked of you! What lies within? Smoke from Mount Bandai’s peak? Or perhaps a will-o’-the-wisp from Kokuzo?”

Kamehime: “Something of that nature.” Hohohoho.

“I have no need for such a thing,” said the Mistress.

“I shan’t give it,” Kamehime retorted.

Shunobanbō raised a hand to interject: “No—first! You quarrel despite being sated—your flowery words flutter like butterflies, a most splendid sight indeed.” He then pressed on: “Now, though it is not my place to speak—Mistress, surely you cannot find this item disagreeable.”

The bundle was opened—a head cask. From within, he pulled out a pale man’s severed head, grabbed it by the topknot, and thumped it down.

“Oh, how careless—it was jostled during the journey, and now the juices have oozed out.”
(The head, drenched in blood) “Here, Old Mother—Old Mother!”

“Aye-aye, aye-aye.”

Shunobanbō: “The offering has become soiled. Washing the fin of a scaled-off sea bass in freshwater—though it may resemble the work of a dishonest fishmonger, this is certainly not that manner of thing. Old Mother, once you’ve given this a wipe to cleanse it, shall we present it?”

The Mistress—supporting her pipe in hand and gazing sternly upright—responded: “There’s no need for concern—being drenched in blood would make it all the more splendid.”

Jitanbauba countered: “The spilled broth is merely liquid from the dust trap—it does not meet proper seasoning. Defilement—in appearance, defilement.” She crawled forward on her knees in red hakama, pressed the bucket with wrinkled hands, swept back her white hair, and opened wide her dyed-black teeth. “Well then, I shall clean it up.” Her three-foot-long tongue licked the severed head’s face. “Defilement—(lick-lick)—defilement it is. (Lick-lick) Defilement it is—defilement it is—ah, sweet it is—defilement it is—ah, how defiled—there now, how sweet.”

Shunobanbō (hastily interrupting): “Ah, Old Mother—mind your teeth! You’ll diminish the feast.”

Jitanbauba: “What do you mean?”
(Adjusting her robes limply) “The terror of aging—these days my teeth are so poor that unless I prepare human heads and pickled radish tails like this, they won’t go down my throat.”
“Even a konpeitō sea bream in its true form can’t be crunched sideways.”

Shunobanbō: “Enough pious talk—the equinox has passed. No—Your Ladyship, should this crone lick it with that tongue, beasts and men alike will melt to bare bones. …That, I should’ve mentioned sooner.”
The gift’s visage had grown gaunt with time.
Yet through fortunate error, the death-altered face regained its former countenance.
“…Princess, behold it.”

Kamehime (holding her fan to her face and peering through it): “Ah, it really is.”

The maidservants all gazed fixedly without blinking.
Everyone seemed to want a bite.

“Your Ladyship—ah, everyone, do look—does not this head brought by Lady Kame bear a striking resemblance to the face of His Lordship of Himeji Castle?”

Kikyō: "Truly, it's the spitting image."

The Mistress nodded. "Lady Kame, this gift—it is indeed..."

Kamehime: "Yes—I who provided shelter—this is the head of Takeda Emonnosuke, lord of Inawashiro Turtle Castle."

“Oh, you,” said the Mistress.
(A pause) “To do such a thing for my sake...”

“I don’t mind,” replied Kamehime. “Besides, none shall know it was I who did it.
When I departed the castle, this Emonnosuke still reclined against his concubine’s knee, drinking sake.
For all his status as a daimyo, his avarice proved foul—when he gulped down the carp stew, a needle in the fish’s gut pierced his throat and brought his demise. Why, even now that meal should be served.”
(Suddenly startled)
(Dropping her fan) “Oh! How careless—this throat holds a needle!”
(Grabbing the topknot and lifting it) “What calamity I’ve wrought! Had it pricked you, Elder Sister...”

“Wait!” said the Mistress. “If you remove that from your gift now, Emonnosuke’s needle might come loose as well—he could revive.”

“What a sham,” remarked Shunobanbō.

“I shall attend to it,” declared the Mistress.
“Very well.”
(Receiving the head with her fan) “You’ve all witnessed their mirror likeness—this man shares blood with Himeji Castle’s master, Lord Harima.”

The maidservants exchanged knowing glances.

Now then—she prepared to make an offering to the lion.

She herself knelt before the lion head.
The lion opened its fangs and swallowed the head.
The head vanished into its maw.

Kamehime (gazing intently): "Elder Sister, how enviable."

“Oh.”

“The Lord has arrived.”

(Pause.)
The Mistress and the Princess faced each other, exchanging faint smiles.

“The lie became truth.”
“……Between us……”

“I lack nothing, but...”

“A man like that would be useful.—Ah, speaking of men—Lady Kame, there’s something I must show you.”
“Kikyō.”

Kikyō: “Yes.”

The Mistress: “That—quickly.”

Kikyō: “Understood.”
(She stood.)

Shunobanbō (suddenly): “Ho there, Old Mother—don’t gawk so at the lion head.”
“What uncouthness!”

Jitanbauba (leaning back to gaze at the lion head): “This crone begs your pardon too, Mistress of this residence.”
“Can’t help but stare—’tis only natural.”

Shunobanbō: “Nay, stare all you like—but mark this, Old Mother: from your perch there, that tongue of yours could reach.”
(He smirked wryly.)

Jitanbauba clapped a hand over her mouth unbidden.
The maids stifled giggles behind sleeves.
Kikyō advanced bearing a helmet—five neck-guards stamped with kuwagata crests, its golden dragon-head shimmering—
and laid it before Tomihime and Kamehime.

“You see—this helmet—is a family treasure that Lord Harima of this castle has kept for generations,” said Tomihime. “Secured in the seventeenth inner vault with five-plate neck guards and nine locks, he guarded it most preciously. But today—overjoyed by your visit—I retrieved it thinking to present it to you.”
“Yet compared to your thoughtful gift, mine pales in shame.”
“That is why I merely show it as apology for having thought of it.”

Kamehime replied: “No—how splendid of you.”

“I won’t give it to you,” said the Mistress. “First of all—once you realize later on—it’s been stored away so long, it reeks of mildew. The orchid-musk fragrance does nothing at all. It would be fine if it were like the one Kimura Nagato-no-kami resolutely used when Osaka Castle fell, but…apparently, it’s a lukewarm thing that took shelter from the rain of arrows and bullets in the aftermath of victory. Take a look.”

Kamehime turned over the gleaming metal plate. “Truly, this is not a helmet from someone who died in battle.”

“Therefore, desist now, Kuzu—remain there awhile.”

As instructed, Kuzu placed the helmet beside the lion head ornament.

“By the time you return, I shall have something prepared that will please you.”

“Elder Sister—rather than that—let us hurry and play that promised handball game!”

“Ah, let us play,” said the Mistress.
“This way.”
“When the castle lord’s falconry party—driven on and on by wind and rain—is about to return through the main gate, your voice carries so well that should any beautiful sound echo from this keep, it would cause another uproar and prove troublesome.”

Kamehime’s attendants all began to rise.

“No—Master Guide,” she said, “you mountain ascetic should stay here with the women and partake of a drink.”

Shunobanbō spread his elbows wide in a deep bow. “By the virtuous grace of Kichijōten.”

“Ah, Old Mother—you needn’t fret either. Stay here and keep us company.—I’ll be imposing my whims on Elder Sister myself.”

“Quite so,” replied the Mistress.

“Now then—” Jitanbauba began, “akebi vines, mountain dogwood, wild grapes, hand-brewed monkey wine, mountain bee honey, ant nectar, refined sake—all stand ready. But as for you two ladies’ handball game, they say merely hearing its melody serves as an elixir of longevity.” She chuckled dryly. “When one reaches these years, heh heh, neither desires nor gains linger in memory.” Her voice softened. “This old flesh simply yearns to endure.”

Shunobanbō leaned forward. “Ho! Old Mother—does some deeper craving yet stir within?”

“Detested mountain monk—” Jitanbauba snapped back, tongue lolling grotesquely, “mind your horns don’t get licked clean on the homeward path!”

Shunobanbō (clutching his head): “Agh! Help me—my horns are shrinking!”

The maidservants laughed.

Jitanbauba: "Now then, allow me to accompany you."

With Lady Tomihime leading the way, Kamehime, Kuzu, and the girl attendants all proceeded.
There were five maidservants and Shunobanbō.

Kikyō: “Come now, Master Guide—do make yourself comfortable.”

Shunobanbō: “What use is there in my relaxing?”
“Well then, here goes!”

Hagi: “Pray, favor us with an amusing tale.”

Shunobanbō: “What use is there in your not listening?”
(holding his fan like a ceremonial baton) “A mountain ascetic is a mountain ascetic, I declare!”
“A ceremonial headband is a ceremonial headband, I declare!”
“Maidservants are beauties.”
“A lovers’ path is a dark night, I declare!”
“Having trodden wild mountain paths without weariness and accumulated ascetic practices—when I, this one, hang this exalted rosary and offer prayer, how could divine efficacy not manifest?”
“The irises beneath the bridge—who planted these irises? Borobon, borobon, borobon no borobon.”

The maidservants deliberately scattered in a flurry; Shunobanbō chased the five around.

*Clatter-clatter clatter-clatter; clatter-clatter clatter-clatter.*
(Eventually pushed by the maidservants and toppling over with a thud) “How could there be no divine benefits?”

Kuzu: “There may be divine benefits, but such talk isn’t the least bit amusing.”

Shunobanbō (shaking his head): Clatter-clatter, clatter-clatter.

A handball song is heard.

――I had three elder sisters—one skilled at the hand drum.

One elder sister skilled at the large drum.

Itchiyoi no ga was in Shitaya.

Number one in Shitaya we proclaimed.
With two ryō I bought an obi,

With three ryō tied tight—tie-tie-tie them tight—seven sashes hung,

Fold and fold again, and write “Iroha.”

——

Kuzu: “Come now, Master Guide—though we of Yoshino’s leaves may not be the finest courtesans, do join us for a pour.”
(She opened a fan.)

Shunobanbō: *Clatter-clatter clatter-clatter.*
(Flourishing his fan) “Oh ho ho ho! Just right, just right!”
“Well then, I shall request some appetizers.”
“……How could there be no divine benefits?”

Kikyō: “As for such divine benefits—well, there might be some.”
“Lady Ominaeshi, Lady Nadeshiko—if you would be so kind as to rise.”

The two women stood.

If someone were to ask where this place is—here lies Suruga's
Fuchū's post town—kindness to people; Kakegawa's post town—
Pheasant hen

A teardrop falls—press it down, fasten tight—*sho-sho-sho*.

Beloved—so irresistibly dear—leaves me helpless.

Shunobanbō: *Yanya yanya!*

Ominaeshi: “Now it’s your turn, Master Guide—come.”

Kuzu: “You must rise.”

Shunobanbō: *Clatter-clatter, clatter-clatter.*
“If this group is to heed their intentions—”

The five maidservants opened their fans; they passed Shunobanbō’s cup around once.
Thereupon, they stood.
They drew the swords at their waists in one fluid motion, balanced the earlier helmet on its tip, thrust it upward toward the ceiling with a crash, and stamped their shins in rhythm—

They rained down weapons like lightning.

The scattering of crags matched spring rain’s profusion.

Even so, they did not approach the person of the Heavenly Emperor,
the asura were destroyed for his sake.
"Rise—" (voices from the shadows).

They swiftly sheathed their swords and restored the helmet to its place; the entire group followed suit.

Kamehime: Elder Sister, this time it’s your turn—to me.

“Yes.”
“Quickly now.”

Madam nodded and led her to the corridor. Gazing far below, she murmured, “Ah, the falconers have returned.”

Kamehime peered downward alongside her. “When I arrived earlier, an ant-like procession was racing through the pine avenue with their matchlocks. Look—that lord with a neck like a turtle’s! Riding his horse all puffed up, swaggering into the main keep.”

“Lord Harima,” Tomihime identified.

“My, he carries a splendid hawk—wings white as snow.”

Tomihime pressed a hand to her chest. “You.” After a pause, she declared, “I shall catch that hawk for you.”

“My, how could you catch that?”
“Look here—that is Himeji’s treasure.”

Taking the straw raincloak and donning it on her shoulders, a beautiful swarm of butterflies danced uniformly upon the raincloak. With a rustling flourish, she spread her wings.

To human eyes, it appeared as a crane clad in a feathered robe.

With a fluttering motion, she let something fall, catching in her hand a white hawk that swiftly flew up to the castle keep.

―A voice exclaimed "Wah!"―resounding from the ground―

Kamehime: “How refreshing, Elder Sister.”

Madam: “If it’s this hawk, I could catch it even were a ball thrown. Please enjoy yourself to your heart’s content.”

Kamehime: “Alright.”
(Holding it joyfully in her sleeve.)
Without hesitation, she ascended the ladder first.
After climbing a few steps, she turned back—and in the very moment she placed both the hawk and [her offering] upon her snow-white hand—insects came.

With those words, she swept her sleeve and let a single war arrow clatter down. The arrow had been shot from within the falconry party.

Madam and the others murmured in unison. They dodged with a twist of their shoulders and wrenched around to turn their backs; when facing toward the stage once more—each took one war arrow in their mouth and another in their hand. "Such insolence!" they declared upon receiving those shot from below.

Suddenly came the sound of gunfire—many times over—

"Now, everyone," said Usu.

The maidservants formed their bodies into a hedge.

"Steady now, Old Mother," said Shunobanbō.
Shielding the princess, they threw open the main gate.

Kamehime: “No harm done, no harm done.”

Madam laughed sharply. “Hohoho! Everyone will light ceremonial sparklers—then they’ll think their matchlock sparks might set this keep ablaze and stop shooting in alarm.”

―The stage grew slightly dim.
The sound of gunfire ceased――――

Madam and Kamehime laughed in unison―hohohohoho.

Madam: “There―look. Let’s use that fire to burn two or three spots that seem ready to catch. They’ll serve as torches for Lady Kame’s path.”

The stage darkened.

Kamehime: “How delightful―your thoughtful gesture.”
“Farewell.”

Madam: “Farewell then.”

Madam: “Farewell then.”

Loneliness—then within the lamplight’s shadow emerged the beautiful figure of Madam.
On the stage, only a single figure remained visible.
Madam sat with her back turned toward the lion head ornament, reading a scroll at her desk.
After a pause, Ominaeshi brought out a pristine undergarment, quietly placed it upon Madam’s back, clasped her hands in deference, and then departed.—

Whose narrow path is this? Whose narrow path?

Whose narrow path is this? The heavenly deity's narrow path. The heavenly deity's narrow path.

In one corner of the stage stood the entrance to a ladder leading down to the fourth floor. From that opening first emerged a snow lantern, casting light around its circumference. As the lantern was thrust forward and raised, there appeared a handsome man of valor, his noble brows radiating vigor. Dressed in a black-feathered double-layered crested robe, yellow-green hakama, and wax-sheathed long and short swords, Himekawa Toshosuke made his entrance. He listened to a song while pacing pensively, gazed up at the ceiling, peered along the corridors, then started slightly upon noticing the lamplight's shadow. Next he perceived a folding screen. The screen stood directly in his intended path. After hesitating briefly, Toshosuke advanced with resolve. Fixing his eyes intently, he discerned the Madam's form. His hand went to his sword hilt as he assumed a defensive posture, yet gradually began retreating.

“Who’s there?”

“Hah.”
(He involuntarily braced his knees.)

Madam turned only her face—silent.

“I am one of the samurai who serves the lord of this castle.”

“What business brings you here?”

“For a hundred years—the second and third floors may be exceptions—there have been no instances of living beings ascending to this fifth floor of the keep. Tonight—by Lord Harima’s order—I have come to confirm.”

“Is that all?”

“Moreover, Lord Harima’s treasured hawk—Japan’s finest—has hidden somewhere around this keep. It is His Lordship’s command to seek its whereabouts.”

“Those with wings are not as constrained as humans. You may tell them it flew a thousand *ri*, five hundred *ri*—to some distant place of its choosing. —Is that all your business?”

“This humble one has received no particular orders regarding my own affairs.”

“Having come to the fifth floor and confirmed matters—were you not told how to proceed?”

“No—I have received no such instructions.”

“And you—having witnessed this—do you not consider what should be done?”

Toshosuke: “The keep belongs to His Lordship.”
“No matter what may occur，I would never presume to decide anything of my own accord.”

Madam: “Wait.”
“This castle keep is mine.”

“That may be yours,” said Toshosuke. “Moreover, His Lordship might declare it his own domain by sovereign right. Yet regardless of such claims, it remains certain this keep belongs not to me.” He pressed a hand to his sword hilt though he kept retreating. “What lies beyond my possession demands His Lordship’s decree before any action.”

Madam turned her profile halfway, moonlight catching the edge of her smile. “How dispassionate your tongue,” she observed, sleeves pooling like spilled ink as she gestured toward the ladder. “With such detachment in your breast, you may quit this place unscathed.” Her voice softened like wind through arrow slits: “I shall guarantee your safe return.”

Toshosuke knelt deeper into shadow, forehead nearly touching tatami matting. “This humble one acknowledges Heaven’s mercy.”

“This time，even if Harima orders it，you must not come.”
“This is no place for humans.”
“—And ensure none others dare approach.”

Toshosuke: “No—as long as I do not come, not a single soul from the fifty-thousand-koku household would dare to come. For all lives are precious.”

“You… Did you not desire life?”

“Due to certain circumstances—having incurred His Lordship’s displeasure, being barred from audiences, and placed under house arrest—I was urgently summoned here because no one else would ascend to the keep. The envoy—who had in fact been ordered to have me commit seppuku—abruptly had his mission altered.”

“Then, once this duty is fulfilled, will seppuku be permitted?”
“That was the agreement.”

“I care not for human life and death, but I would not have you commit seppuku.”
“I dislike the seppuku of samurai.”
“However, I have unexpectedly saved your life.”
“……It is not an ill deed.”
“Tonight is a lovely night.”
“Then you may leave.”

Toshosuke: Princess.

Madam: Are you still here?

Toshosuke: I beg your pardon, but would there be any issue in informing my lord that I have seen your form?

“Do state it accurately.”
“If I am not absent, I shall always be here.”

“I must uphold my honor as a samurai—by your leave.”

Toshosuke took the paper lantern and withdrew quietly.
The Madam took her long pipe—at its swishing sound, he paused once on the wooden floorboards, then immediately hid the lamp beneath the platform at the ladder’s entrance.

The sound of a bell.

At that moment, a single great nyūdō—its mask and priestly robes jet-black—emerged from the shadows as though gliding over roof tiles and along treetops, crept along the edge of the stage, and crouched at the mouth of the trapdoor on the hanamichi.

The sound of a bell.

Toshosuke emerged from that trapdoor.

Madam smoothly rose from her seat and stood gazing intently at the front-facing handrails with their drum cords. Toshosuke—holding up his paper lantern to look back at the high keep—found it extinguished when the great nyūdō peered in and blew it out in an instant.
Toshosuke braced himself.
The great nyūdō spread its massive arms and blocked his path ahead.

The sound of a bell.

The maidservants emerged from behind the stage curtain in gallant attire, wielding daggers and naginatas.
Toshosuke drew his war fan, repelled the great nyūdō, dodged a dagger thrust, and crossed blades with a naginata.
Having driven back the group, he raised his fan at the edge of the stage curtain and glared up at the castle keep.

The sound of a bell.

Madam returned to her seat composedly.
Toshosuke, groping his way, searched for the original trapdoor.
(Pause) He vanished into the trapdoor.

After a while, he emerged from the entrance of the former ladder on the stage.
Without a moment’s delay, he approached Madam and placed his hands on the floor.

Madam preemptively called out.
(Calmly) “Did you see it again?”

“Ah—to have disturbed your attendants once more under cover of night—I most humbly beg your pardon.”

“What have you come here for?”

“When I returned to the third-floor platform of the castle keep,” Toshosuke replied, “a great bat—its black wings vast as a kite’s—extinguished my lantern with its gust. Finding myself at utter loss, I came to beg a light.”

The Madam’s response held but a trifle’s weight.
“…Did you forget my words,” she continued, “when I forbade your return?”

Where even the crescent moon cast no more than a needle’s sliver of light—where below yawned true darkness—
the man reasoned: should he misstep and tumble from the platform—should crippling injury follow—life would hold no purpose.
Yet when he looked up—from this five-story height—a faint light glimmered.
“Even were my life claimed as penalty for this transgression,” he declared, “I—as a man—deemed it preferable to courting injury through a ladder’s fall. Thus did I dare approach despite your prohibition.”

Madam smiled gently. “Ah, what an unclouded heart you possess—and how valiant you are.”
“I shall light the lantern for you.”
(She drew nearer.)

Toshosuke: “Nay—it would be too great an imposition for your hand.”
“I will.”

Madam: “No no—this lantern shares its nature with the Morning Star, the Dipper’s light, a dragon’s flame, a jewel’s gleam. With your hands, this candle shall not kindle.”

Toshosuke: “Hah!”
(He fixed his gaze.)

Madam, with solicitous care, removed the candle from the paper lantern and transferred its flame to the stand lamp.
Taking the candle, she gazed intently at Toshosuke’s face, entranced.

Madam (with the candle still in hand): “I no longer wish to send you back—I think I shall not send you back.”

Toshosuke: “Yes…”

Madam: “You said that Lord Harima ordered you to commit seppuku. What crime could that possibly be?”

Toshosuke: “It is my transgression, my sin—that I, who held in my fist my lord’s white hawk, treasured as the finest in all Japan, let it escape into this keep.”

“What—letting a hawk escape? That transgression, that sin—ah, how curious are the faults humans impose.”
“That hawk was not one you set upon the bird of your own accord, was it?”
“Upon seeing a bird of unparalleled beauty upon the keep’s ridge, Lord Harima—coveting it—ordered you himself to pursue it, then capriciously let it escape of his own accord. And he makes that your crime?”

“It is the way of lord and retainer.”
“To offer up one’s life in accordance with your command—this is the way of a retainer.”

“That path must surely be crooked,” said the Madam. “By obeying wrongful orders, do you not make your lord walk a mistaken road?”

“Yet the hawk strayed,” replied Toshosuke.

“Ah, how dreadful this lord-and-vassal custom is!” Her voice trembled with disdain. “Would they trade a human life for a hawk? Very well—if this were your failing alone, and such were the way of master and servant, there might be no remedy. But if Lord Harima commanded it, then the fault lies with Lord Harima.” Her fan snapped shut like a judge’s gavel. “In truth, you did not lose the hawk.”
A beat of silence hung between them before she confessed: “I took it.”

Toshosuke: You...!

Madam: Indeed.

Toshosuke: Ah, I bear resentment.
(He placed his hand on his sword.)

Madam: “First—the hawk. To whom do you believe it truly belongs? Hawks have their own world—forests of clear dew and frost, skies where morning tempests and evening winds blow refreshingly. They are never human possessions. These feudal lords, in their excessive presumption, presumptuously claim that bird as their sole property. Do you not think so?”

Toshosuke (pausing in contemplation): "Beautiful, noble, and possessed of unfathomable dignity—Princess. I cannot give you an answer."

“No, no—I do not mean to provoke you with pointed words. Should you comprehend even a sliver of my meaning, you must never return—not to those labyrinthine compounds of Ninomaru and Honmaru, nor Taikōmaru’s halls, nor the inner precincts, nor that stifling samurai world. Rather than silver or gold, jewels or coral—domains yielding thousands upon ten thousand koku—I would offer myself. In place of the lord who demands your seppuku, I would give my heart—my very life. You must not go back.”

Toshosuke: “I was lost, Princess. Even my heart of gold and iron toward my lord surges with such turmoil. But I cannot reach a decision. I must consult my parents, receive my teacher’s instruction, and seek answers in books as well. I must take my leave.”

Madam (sighing): “Ah, you still cling to the mortal world. Then please depart.” (At this moment, she placed the candle into the paper lantern.)

Toshosuke departed in utter bewilderment.
She deigned to think of humans so full of uncertainty as nothing but pitiable.

“Ah—with those tender words of yours—I find myself even more reluctant to let you depart.”
(She grasped his sleeve.)

“If you insist on detaining me by force,” he declared, brushing off his sleeve with resolve, “I shall have no choice but to resist.”

“Against me?” she inquired, her lips curving in amusement.

“Such a notion is unthinkable.”

“How valiant! How noble!” Her eyes gleamed with approval. “That lion-hearted youth—I would know your name.”

“When addressed with words as ethereal as dreams,” he replied, bowing slightly, “I scarce recall whether I possess a name at all. Yet men call me Himekawa Toshosuke.”

“Your endearing and delightful name—I shall not forget it.”
“Henceforth, I vow to revere your passages beneath the castle keep.”
“Forgive me.”
(He rose abruptly.)

“Ah, Lord Toshosuke—wait!”

Lord Toshosuke: “It cannot be helped—is it ultimately a rule that those kept alive are not permitted to return?”

Madam: “Hohoho, here differs from Lord Harima’s household.”
“Here is governed solely by my will—there are no rules whatsoever.”

Toshosuke: “You deigned to call me to halt for that.”

Madam: “There is a parting gift for you.”
“—Humans are distrustful.”
“Cowardly, timid, selfish lords—all the more so.”
“That you have ascended to this fifth floor and recognized me—no one will truly acknowledge it.”
“For your pure and refreshing self, I shall present a keepsake.”
(Quietly takes the earlier helmet)—“Take this as your keepsake.”

Lord Toshosuke: “This humble one could never have anticipated such a gift from you, Princess. To decline would be discourteous. Too precious, too splendid a helmet.”

Madam: “Though gold and silver are heaped upon it, the craftsmanship leaves much to be desired.”
“Yet to Takeda, this remains an essential implement.—Do you recognize it?”

Toshosuke (eyes narrowing in suspicion): “I can scarcely credit it—though even I glimpse this but once yearly during airing—the resemblance to your clan’s treasured Blue Dragon Helmet is unmistakable.”

Madam: “It is indeed none other.”

Lord Toshosuke was aghast.
(Abruptly) "So urgent is my departure that I rise onto my very toes—I must humbly request my leave."

“If you come again, I will not let you return.”
“I swear—there is no need for your command.”

“Farewell.”

Toshosuke: "Hah."
(Clutching the helmet, he hastily concealed himself by the ladder.)

Madam (solitary in reverie, cheek propped on her desk, addressing the lion): "You—grant that one to me."

Usu (Emerges quietly): “My Lady.”

“Usu?”
“He is a splendid person.”

“Until now, I feel ashamed—I who did not know that person, whose gaze never reached him.”

“My Lady, why have you let depart the one who answered your age-old longing?”

“I desire life.”
“That would be called resistance.”

“My Lady, until you place him here with us, there is no need to take his life whatsoever.”

“I believe that in those people’s eyes, those who dwell here are not truly alive.”

“Then with your beauty and power, you could forcibly keep him here.”
“What purpose would resistance serve?”

“No—I do not wish to display my beauty through such means,” said Tomihime. “To compel others by force is Lord Harima’s way. True love flows between heart and heart...” Her tone softened like autumn mist settling on stone. “Usu.”

Usu: “Hah.”

Madam: “However—he being a falconer who keeps a white hawk—it must be fate.”

Usu: “There will surely be a bond.”

Madam: “I too find myself thinking so.”

Usu: “However your words may be—Madam—this stings.”

“It stings me as well.”

“What a greeting this is—Hmm? Something’s amiss—the keep below is in an uproar.”
(She stood up and stepped out to the handrail, peering far below) “…Well now, do take a look.”

“What is it?” asked Madam, remaining seated.

“A great number of samurai are burning watchfires. Ah—Lord Harima is on campaign, seated upon his camp stool and lying in wait. Lukewarm and sluggish by nature, yet presumptuous and impatient—he could not await the return of the messenger sent to confirm the keep’s state and thus dispatched them forthwith. Ah, ah—Lord Toshosuke’s figure appears small. Madam, amidst the swarm of tadpoles, your crests like spatterdock bloom crisp and clear—radiant by the water’s edge. …Madam.”

Madam: “I know not.”

“Oh—the helmet inspection has commenced.”
“Oh my! I’m surprised.”
“The lord’s thick, lacquer-like eyebrows are twitching something fierce.”
“If we showed them those brothers’ heads from Lady Kame’s earlier gift, what might happen?”
“Ah—the honorable chief retainer is present.”
“That old man amassed wealth by oppressing peasants.”
“Though his head went bald instead.”
“My—is everyone crowding Lord Toshosuke to share his glory?”
“Oh—arresting swords!”
“Wh-wha—what? Ah! Ah! Madam, Madam, Madam!”

“That’s enough.”

“Oh—it is no longer acceptable, Madam. They are calling Lord Toshosuke a thief. ‘A traitor who stole the lord’s treasured helmet—a traitor,’ they say—‘a rebel no different from one who lays hands on the lord’s very neck!’ Yet under your protection, the helmet was returned. Oh, what creatures humans are. Oh! The trap has been sprung. With loyalty and stipends, won’t they offer resistance? Got him! They’ve thrown! Delightful! There! The honorable chief retainer has had his shoulder piece knocked off! A great number have joined the fray. That’s dangerous! Savage! Lord Toshosuke crossed blades. ……An arm fell. Oh! A torso slash! And here’s someone who needn’t have lifted a finger—oh! How pitiful—the head of one with five ryo and two fuchi flies.”

Madam: "I have grown accustomed to such scenes since Hideyoshi’s time—yet what is this? The clamor feels unbearably raucous."

“They cannot remain calm! Outnumbered one against many—they’ve broken through! Lord Toshosuke has fled into the keep! They’re giving chase! They’ve even brought out spears.” (Sliding smoothly along the handrail,) Lord Toshosuke was racing up to the second level. “A great number have cornered him.”

Madam (rising to one knee): “Very well. Proceed to render assistance.”

“Maidservants! Maidservants!”
—(Calling out while hurriedly descending the ladders.)

Madam, resting one hand [on the screen], gazed down over it toward the ladders.

――Ah! Ah! Ah!――Fierce human voices, clattering objects, stomping feet.
――

Toshosuke released his topknot, his garments bathed in blood.
He swung his sword at the ladder's edge and once peered sharply down below.
A ripple coursed through his shoulders; he gasped and froze in place.

Madam: “Lord Toshosuke.”

Toshosuke (startled, staggering, breathlessly rushing forward): “Princess—disregarding your command—I beg forgiveness for this third intrusion.”
“They name me thief… thief… traitor… rebel.”

“I am well aware,” said Madam. “Until now—even yesterday and today—those who called each other friends turn their blades on you as easily as flipping their palms, all for the lord’s command—how brazenly.”

“Yes,” replied Lord Toshosuke. “If I am slain by fellow humans for a crime I know nothing of, those very same humans will find themselves unable to abandon their pursuit. Let me perish by your hand. I have broken the prohibitions; I have betrayed our vows; I submit to judgment for these crimes. I humbly beseech you to swiftly take my life.”

“Very well. Were it amidst warriors, I would take your life,” said Madam. “By my side—live with me eternally.”

Toshosuke pressed urgently: “Your mercy overflows—kind as your words are, though I might wish to live, those hunters would never suffer me to survive.” His breath came fast. “I implore you to end my life swiftly.” A desperate edge sharpened his voice. “Were my life taken by your hand, there could be no greater fulfillment—to fall by theirs would shame me beyond bearing.” His hands found her knees, trembling. “Now—my life, my life—even now, I beg you to take it.”

“No, they shall not come this far.”

“They scurry up and down the fifth-tier dais’s ladders like rats... Though I hesitated somewhat—for age-old rumors deem this place more fearsome than demons or evil spirits—they have now recognized my presence here.”
“Even now—in the midst of all this.”

Madam: “Ah, that’s true as well. Before anything else, I shall conceal you here.”
(Taking the lion head ornament and opening her cloak to cover Toshosuke) “Inside here… inside here—”

Lord Toshosuke: “Ah! An impregnable fortress.”

Madam: “No, it is fragile.”

Lord Toshosuke: “Exactly as you say—softer than silk floss.”

Madam: “And now, hold firmly to me.”

Lord Toshosuke: “Forgive my impertinence.”

He clung to her sleeve from behind.
Appearing to cling, he concealed his body beneath the cloak’s hem.
Held aloft with the lion head ornament, Madam’s face remained visible beyond the cloak.

When the attackers swarmed in clamorously and, upon seeing this, recoiled in unison, Madam too concealed herself within her cloak.
A single blue-faced lion stood fiercely upon the stage.

Assailants.
Odawara Shuri, Yamasumi Kuhei, and others.
Unsheathed spears, swords.
Among them were some who wore ostentatious light armor pieces.
A great number of them.

Kuhei (raising a lantern): “Ah! So this is that eerie yet beautiful standing figure of a lady I glimpsed!”

Shuri: “Transforming! Transforming! When my lord beheld an auspicious crane like a celestial being at the castle and loosed his hawk upon it, the hawk broke away and cast off its straw raincloak—utterly unconscionable!”

Kuhei: “No doubt remains—Himekawa Toshosuke, in his death throes, has hidden himself within that lion cloak!”
“Now! By the lord’s command—seize the traitor!”
Yamasumi Kuhei surged forward.

“Wait, Yamasumi—that’s the one who hid over there.”
“He won’t come out even if you call him.”
“Seize him, pin him down, and drag him out!”

Kuhei: “There, everyone!”

Shuri: “Heed caution—act rashly, and you’ll suffer injury. From its very origins, this azure lion head was no ordinary artifact. Let me recount what I know. Long ago, it adorned the shrine of Murasagiyama’s earth deity beyond our castle walls. Two generations past, our lord’s predecessor glimpsed from his falconry steed—through eyes blurred with drink—a procession of capital nobles fleeing unseen by any villager. Among them shone a woman of unmatched beauty who took refuge within that shrine.”

“Though we stood at Momiji Mountain’s hunting grounds, they were likely fallen nobles from some vanquished realm—highborn ladies and their retinue. A peerless beauty indeed. ‘Drag her forth!’ he commanded. His retainers stormed the shrine and seized her despite protests—‘A married woman!’ she cried—but when they grasped her limbs, she bit her tongue and fell dead face-first.”

“Then they examined this lion head closely—ah, noble beast! A masterpiece wrought through tragedy. ‘Had I such power,’ she’d spat with dying breath, ‘I’d never suffer beasts’ claws!’ they say. Three autumns followed with great floods each year. The mountain priest tending corpses swore he saw the lion inverted—licking her blood with streaming eyes—thus began the curse.”

“All the province buzzed that those floods were her vengeful spirit’s work. They found the comb she’d worn—unpainted wood carved with Mihara peonies in high relief—fallen from her hair in death. That lord on horseback calmly tucked it into his sleeve—a daimyo wild enough to scorn divine wrath!”

“How droll—‘Flood my five-storied keep if you dare!’ So they hauled this cursed thing here alive. Since then, men call this tower a den of marvels and horrors—though I never thought to witness such myself. Steel yourselves!”

Kuhei: “Understood. Ready your spears!”

The assailants charged with their spears.
The lion thrashed wildly.
The assailants recoiled.
Shuri, Kuhei, and the rest of the band charged forward one after another with swords drawn.
The lion thrashed wildly.
The assailants recoiled again.

Shuri: “Even as a wood carving, it has vigor.”
“The same goes for living beasts.”
“Target the eyes! Target the eyes!”

Kuhei and Shuri combined their strength, each striking a blow to its eyes—the lion fell.
The assailants attempted to seize its head.

Toshosuke pushed aside the cloak, brandished his sword, and emerged.
Exchanging a single sword strike with the cursing assailants in unison: “Ah! I can’t see!”
Pushed down and pinned—futility.

The Lady raised the lion head ornament and stood upright.
Her black hair disheveled, her face dreadful.
Holding by the topknot the severed head she had earlier, she declared: “Whose head is this? You there—all who have eyes, look well!”
She hurled it down with a thud.

—The assailants recoiled with a cry as Shuri timidly picked it up.

Shuri: Namu Sanbō—Homage to the Three Treasures!

“It’s our lord’s head!” Kuhei cried. “Lord Harima’s head!”

Shuri scoffed. “Hardly worth calling a crisis.” He scanned the group. “Comrades—do we all still have our heads?”

Kuhei: “A dreadful demon!”
“We can’t afford to linger in a place like this!”

The assailants, unable to keep their footing, retreated in disarray while encircling the severed head.

“Princess, where are you?”
“Princess.”

The Lady stood despondently, remaining silent.

Toshosuke (groping pitifully and forlornly): "Princess, where are you?"
"I have lost my sight."
"Princess."

Lady (weeping in suppressed sobs): "You... I too have lost my sight."

Toshosuke: "Yes."

“Maidservants—maidservants!”
“At least a lamp—”

—Everyone became blind.
No one could see anymore.—(The sound of them all gasping and weeping in unison echoed from beyond the wall.)

Tomihime (collapsing with a thud along with the lion head ornament): "The lion's both eyes were wounded."
"Not a single one of those who lived by this spirit could see anymore."
"Lord Toshosuke… Where are you?"

Lord Toshosuke: “Princess, where are you?”

Groping closer through the darkness, their hands met; they gasped through stifled sobs and clung to each other in embrace.

“There is nothing I can say.”
“You must ready yourself.”
“The head I let you hold will vanish if taken beyond this keep.”
“Our attackers shall soon return.”
“I alone may ride clouds, soar winds, cross rainbow bridges.”
“Such paths lie beyond Lord Toshosuke’s reach.”
“Ah! This torment!”
“Though we donned straw cloaks and hats—though I meant them to witness us celestial at dawnrise, moonglow, sunset’s edge—now blindness claims me! Now I cannot shield even your life!”
“Forgive me.”

“I bear no regrets!”
“Princess, let me perish by your hand.”

“Indeed—you shall not fall to others’ blades.”
“In turn, I too shall cease to live—may I become the keep’s dust and soot, decaying like autumn leaves.”

“Ah! Why must you—a princess of such beauty lingering in this world—descend to the netherworld bearing me as your token?”

“Nay—it is my true wish as well, to meet my end through your hand.”

“Is this your true voice, Princess?”

“Yes—what of it?”
“You say that—I want to see your face... just once.”
“...A love meant for a thousand ages—a hundred lifetimes—yet granted only once... just this single time...”

“Ah,” said Lord Toshosuke, “I too wish to see that noble, beautiful face of yours just once more.”
They clung to each other.

The Lady needed neither past lives nor future existences—she wished only to remain like this.

“Ah—they’re shouting below the castle keep.”

Tomihime stiffened. “How infuriating! If only there’d been a moment’s respite—I would’ve asked Lady O-Yuki of Yasha Pond and my sworn sister in distant Inawashiro for help.”

“I have resolved myself.”
“Princess… me…”

“I cannot let go of you.”
“No—I have a lingering wish to save you.”

“If there is delay, the assailants—those humans—will slaughter me; if you do not strike me down yourself, I will take my own life with my own hand.”
(He takes up his sword once more.)

“You must not commit seppuku!” Tomihime cried.
“Ah, there is no other way,” she said.
“Then I shall act as your second—I will bite off my tongue for you.”
“Together with that—gather your courage and—plunge it into my own breast in one decisive stroke.”

Lord Toshosuke whispered, “If only I could see—even just the faint outline of your mouth as you speak those words.”

“If only I could see even a single strand of your eyelashes,” she replied.
(They cried out loud together.)

From within the innermost pillar came a thunderous noise.—

“Wait! Don’t cry, don’t cry.”
――

The craftsman, Omi no Jō Momoroku, a gentle old man of sixty-odd years.
With a hood, work apron, and flint pouch at his waist, he appeared using a fan.

Momoroku: “Beautiful ones, don’t cry.”
(Stomping over to stroke the lion head) “First, allow me to open its eyes.”

He drew a single chisel from his flint pouch and applied it to the pair of lion eyes.

—The Lady and Lord Toshosuke together exclaimed “Ah—”—

“Well now—can you see?”
“Hahaha! They’ve opened proper!”
They opened with joy.
“Oh—now they laugh?”
“Who laughs? Who laughs now? Ahahaha!”

“Grandfather.”

“Old master… who are you?”

Momoroku: “Then know that if peonies be carved upon someone’s comb, this lion head was carved by Omi no Jō Momoroku—toothpick whittler of Tamba Province.”

Tomihime: “Oh my—” (becoming aware of her form pressed against Toshosuke) “How embarrassing this appearance is.”

Toshosuke too donned the cloak alongside her, concealing their figures.

Momoroku: “Hmm—I see it! You look abashed! You look ill at ease! Yet still you look joyous! Hahahaha!”
“How affectionate you are, young ones.”
(Chiseling stone, adjusting tinder, clamping a pipe sideways between his teeth as tobacco burned with sharp puffs) “After such trials—rest. Take peaceful slumber.”
“In time, I shall gently bestow yet clearer eyes upon it.”

He tested his chisel.
Moonlight cast its glow.

Moonlight shone—it was moonlight—on eyeballs.
(Testing his chisel and inclining an ear, he listened to the voices below the keep roaring like battle cries.)

“The world may be at war, but butterflies dance! Pinks and bellflowers bloom!”
“Fools!”
(He roared with laughter) “Here lies the lion!”
“Consider this a festival and make merry!”
(Applying his chisel) “Spears! Swords! Bows and arrows! Matchlock guns! The castle rabble!”

――Curtain――

Taisho 6 (1917) September