Pathway to Japanese Literature

Preface to Juvenile Literature In an age where sensational prison tales sought only to wound readers' hearts, I hereby presented a volume of tender tales for the young. This too would stand as a noble endeavor of unparalleled originality in its own right. Many of Europe’s children’s tales had been transmitted from Persia’s Parrot Booklets, and since their origin lay in India’s ancient texts, the East stood truly as the birthplace of these lovely poetic forms. Ah, might this newly hung banner here—achieving the grand aspiration of restoring our ancestral house—prosper through generations of descendants who would ever multiply its scrolls!

Hongo Sendagimachi of Ōgai Gyoshi

Editorial Guidelines

Item 1: This work is titled Shōnen Bungaku ("Juvenile Literature"), meaning literature for youths—a term deriving from the German Jugendschrift (juvenile literature). However, since our nation lacked an appropriate established phrase for this concept, we have provisionally given it this name. I believe what Brother Ōgai calls juvenile tales must share this same essence.

Item 1: Therefore, we neither strove for embellishment in prose nor sought novelty in themes, having deliberately abandoned even the customary colloquial style solely to make this work accessible to young readers. At times employing poetic devices like the 5-7 syllable meter, with both themes and prose splendidly antiquated—yet might this very quality have rendered the work easier for youths to recite and comprehend? Item 2: When compiling this *Kogane-maru*, the author recalled Goethe’s *Reineke Fuchs* (“Reynard the Fox”), Grimm’s and Andersen’s *Märchen* (tales of wonder), as well as domestic works beginning with *Momotarō* and *Kachikachiyama*, ancient texts like *Tales of Times Now Past* and *Uji Shūi Monogatari*, and Tenmei-era yellow-covered storybooks—all of which aided in structuring this work. Thus, they were not significant enough to be formally cited as reference works.

Though this may smack of self-praise, stories of this kind are exceedingly rare in modern literary circles—indeed, if I may boast, they constitute an entirely new phenomenon. Therefore, my esteemed literary colleagues—even should my humble work prove unworthy—I earnestly beseech you to fully debate this concept of juvenile literature once our venerable seniors begin producing such tales in succession hereafter. This too I humbly request in advance.

Item 1: My literary friends labeled me the "juvenile author" of our literary circles—this doubtlessly stemmed from my novels frequently featuring youths as protagonists. Now that I found myself serving once more as a forerunner of juvenile literature, when I reflected upon it, this title could not be gainsaid.

The twelfth lunar month of the Year of the Tiger. After eight more nights of sleep would come the day called New Year's.

At the Former Sakura Pavilion, Renzan-jin records

Volume I

Chapter 1

Long ago, in the depths of a certain remote mountain, there lived a tiger. How many seasons had passed? Its frame grew larger than any ordinary calf; its eyes outshone even a thousand-fold polished mirror; its whiskers resembled a bundle of needles; when it roared once, its voice shook valleys and mountains—so fiercely that birds upon treetops seemed ready to plummet. Since there was not a single jackal, wolf, deer, or elk in the entire mountain that did not fear and obey him, the tiger increasingly indulged his ferocity, proclaimed himself the Golden-Eyed Great King, looked down upon the multitudes of beasts beneath his gaze, and thus became lord of all creatures in the mountain. It was then the beginning of January—though called spring in name alone—when from yesterday's heavy snow, fields and mountains and rocks and trees were all wrapped in icy cotton, as the bitter wind made sitting still unbearable. The Golden-Eyed Great King had secluded himself in his cave since morning and was crouching alone when Chōsui, his trusted old fox, traversing the rocky path through trodden snow, finally arrived at the cave entrance. Brushing off the snow, he crept in and deferentially positioned his front paws. “With this heavy snow since yesterday—unable to venture outside—confined solely to the cave Your Majesty must have been,” he said. “How tediously time must have passed for you.”

The Golden-Eyed Great King raised himself up. “Ah, Chōsui! Well have you come.” “Truly as you say—with this heavy snow making venturing out impossible, I’ve been sleeping alone in the cave while provisions gradually dwindled, and now I feel somewhat peckish.” “Why is there no good prey? …Given this heavy snow, it’s only natural there’s none,” he sighed. Chōsui objected, “No, Great King— “If Your Majesty is truly hungry and deigns to seek food, I shall offer a choice prey.” “What do you mean by ‘choice prey’?” “…Where did you bring that from?” “No. “Though I do not have it here, if Your Majesty would deign to brave this snowy path without sparing your strength, I shall guide you to an excellent spot.” “How so?” he said. The Golden-Eyed Great King burst into booming laughter. “Now Chōsui, “Even if I have grown old, how could I fear such trifling snow? “My remaining holed up in this cave is by no means due to fearing the cold—it is because I judged there would be no prey.” “If what you say now holds no falsehood, swiftly guide the way! I shall go and seize that prey—where exactly is it?” declared he. Chōsui said with a self-satisfied look, “Now that Your Majesty has deigned to agree so swiftly, I am truly delighted.” “Therefore, deign to calm your heart for a moment and deign to listen to my words.” “Now, the prey I speak of is the watchdog at the village head’s house in the hamlet at the foot of this mountain, and I harbor no shallow grudge against him.” “Now if Your Majesty would go and slay him, this would be my revenge, and my joy could not be greater, I humbly submit.” At this, the Golden-Eyed Great King looked suspicious and said, “This is strange.” “What is the nature of this grudge? If it’s no trouble, speak it plainly.” “San-sōrō.”

“It was the day before yesterday—when I passed by the village head’s house near what seemed a storehouse—that I heard a chicken’s cry.” “Thinking this would make fine prey, I sneaked through the rear fence toward the henhouse. But that sharp-eyed dog spotted me and lunged suddenly. Caught off guard, I panicked and tried to flee back through the fence hole I’d entered from—yet he seized my tail to drag me back! I thrashed desperately to break free.” “In that struggle—wouldn’t you know—he gnawed off the tip of my tail! The pain was excruciating, leaving me with a deformity I’ve never had since birth.” “Now even this precious tail of mine can’t become an old man’s scarf! Though mortified beyond measure...” “He’s a dog and I’m a fox—our stations utterly mismatched—so I swallowed my resentment and abandoned thoughts of revenge.” “Great King—if you deem this humble one pitiable—pray avenge me!” “When I earlier spoke of presenting prey...it was truly to make this request.” He pleaded with theatrical pathos. The Golden-Eyed Great King nodded gravely. “Detestable cur’s behavior!” “Very well! I’ll seize him forthwith and make him rue it—rest assured!” Blending wrath with consolation, he positioned Chōsui at the fore. Trudging through shin-deep snow across mountains and streams, they soon reached the foothills. There Chōsui halted: “Great King—yonder where smoke rises beyond that forest’s edge lies the village head’s estate. Yet should Your Majesty charge in personally...” “...you’d only startle the humans while our canine foe escapes.” “For this—I’ve an excellent plan.” With that, he whispered into the king’s ear. Then—haughty mien restored—the Golden-Eyed Great King strode forward.

Chapter 2

At the village head’s house in this hamlet lived two dogs named Tsukimaru and Hanase—a male and a female. Having been raised with affection over many years, they served their masters with profound loyalty; thus for countless seasons no thieves dared intrude, and the household prospered ever more. Amidst relentless snowfall—perhaps stirred by some ancestral memory—Tsukimaru frolicked with his mate in the inner garden. Suddenly from behind came a guttural roar as something burst forth from the shadows. When he turned to look, there loomed a tiger twice his size—eyes blazing like molten gold, fangs bared like daggers unsheathed—its fearsome visage defying mortal description. Any common cur would have collapsed in terror. But Tsukimaru’s heart burned with primal ferocity; without hesitation he lunged at the beast, howling defiance as they clashed in furious combat. Yet against such overwhelming might no valor sufficed—cruelly his flesh was rent and hide torn until at last his death-cry echoed through falling snow. Clamping the lifeless form between mighty jaws and scattering white powder with each stride, the tiger bore its prize back to its bone-strewn lair. Behind remained only arterial streams staining snow crimson—as if red plum petals had been cast across winter’s canvas.

Hanase had been watching everything unfold from the shadows since the beginning. She was a frail female dog. Moreover, with her breasts sagging from recent changes—her body being in an unusual state—she couldn’t even save her mate from his cruel fate though she witnessed it firsthand. Tormenting herself alone, she let out a pitiful wail and barked incessantly until people finally heard and came to investigate. The snow before the gate lay trampled in all directions, stained with copious blood. When they looked toward the distant mountain shadows, they saw a massive tiger carrying something in its jaws—none other than Tsukimaru’s corpse. “So that cursed tiger devoured him! Had I been just a moment faster, I’d never have let it kill him!” The master stamped in anguish and regret, but with no means to undo what had happened, he barely managed to soothe the grief-crazed Hanase and bring the matter to a close. What festered unresolved was within Hanase’s heart—from that day forth, she grew increasingly unhinged. Day and night, she remained sequestered in her kennel, refusing even to touch the food given to her. Erupting in strange howls and ceasing to guard the gate altogether, she became utterly useless. Yet knowing her circumstances, the master’s pity only deepened, and he devoted himself wholeheartedly to caring for her. Hanase wasted away until her flesh withered, bones protruded, and nose dried completely—no longer resembling a dog of this world, but a pitiful creature clinging to life. Then, when the moon hung full, sudden labor pains seized her. Amidst agony, she gave birth to a single exquisitely beautiful brown-furred male pup. Golden hairs mingled along his back, emitting an unearthly glow—thus they named him Kogane-maru on the spot.

Already weakened by illness and having now given birth to an infant, the tension that had sustained her until this moment slackened all at once. She could no longer lift her heavy head from the pillow, her life becoming one that might not last beyond tomorrow. On her deathbed, she requested that Botan—the cow with whom she had long been close, kept in the rear pasture—come to her pillow-side. Gasping with labored breath through her snout, she said, “Now, Botan... “As you can see, Sister, my condition leaves me no longer among the living. On my deathbed, there is but one matter I must entrust to you.” “That my dear Tsukimaru met a cruel end at the jaws of the ferocious tiger Golden-Eyed on that day—this you are already aware of, Sister.” “When I witnessed my mate’s violent death before my very eyes yet made no move to save him, there may have been beasts who thought me a despicably faithless dog.” “For a female dog by nature, even if it means her own demise, to rescue her mate in his crisis goes without saying—as it is the fundamental duty of a beast who knows righteousness. Though I myself was not unaware of this, the reason I clung to life then was due to my unusual condition.” “If I had also gone out there and fought the tiger...” “I would have been killed along with him.” “Had that come to pass, who would have avenged us?” “In the end, had the three of us parent and child done nothing but throw away our lives, this would have resembled loyalty yet been no true loyalty—this is what it truly means to die a dog’s death.” “Having resolved thus in my heart, I endured the unendurable and bore the unbearable until I had my mate killed.” “This too was solely for the sake of the child in my womb—and having given birth to him.” “It was all because I wished to have our enemy slain.” “Yet in my misfortune—though words fail to convey—I fell ill and lay prostrate; clinging desperately to the jade thread of life that had nearly snapped, I at last managed to bring forth this child.” “If I cannot raise him myself—if my hard-won plea for vengeance risks becoming my own undoing—then I beg you, Sister, take this child as your own and raise him with your milk.” “If he should grow into a proper male dog, then pray convey my words to him at that time, and pray lend him strength to strike down that damned Golden-Eyed—as vengeance for my mate and as retribution for his father.” “This is my sole request.” “I beg... I beg...” Her voice grew fainter—as fragile as dew upon winter insects and grasses. A dog’s life proved no different.

Chapter 3 Alas, Hanase, chasing after her husband’s whereabouts, hastened after him to the Mountain of the Dead and passed away on that very evening. The master, increasingly pitiful, placed her corpse into a coffin, buried it in the shade of a small hill behind the house, set a stone there with Tsukimaru’s name carved alongside it—creating in form only a paired burial mound—and thereafter earnestly mourned them.

And so the orphaned Kogane-maru—not yet knowing east from west—was taken from his straw bed into Botan’s care at the pasture, where he suckled cow’s milk and grew up in the cattle shed. As he gradually grew, his frame surpassed that of ordinary dogs; his nature was brave, and he became a splendid, dependable dog. Now, Botan's mate Bunkaku was by nature a cow of profound loyalty; thus, strictly adhering to Hanase's dying wish, he devoted himself day and night to Kogane-maru's upbringing, placing him among the multitude of calves. At times, he would have him engage in horn wrestling or make him compete in races, all to drive him to devote himself solely to feats of strength. Thanks to these efforts, Kogane-maru had grown as strong as he could possibly be; even when clashing with most dogs, he now felt certain he could overpower them. Bunkaku rejoiced without reservation, thinking the time was now right. One day, he summoned Kogane-maru close to his knees and began to tell him tales of old—how he was not his true child, and so on and so forth. Before he could even finish listening, Kogane-maru—first shocked by learning his true origins, then grieving, and again gnashing his teeth in rage at Golden-Eyed's cruelty—impetuously lunged forward, declaring, “Having heard this, I must race to that mountain at once and bite that enemy Golden-Eyed to death!” But Bunkaku instantly restrained him, saying, “Though your thoughts are justified, first calm your heart and hear my words. In truth, your parent’s enemy is not solely that Golden-Eyed one. Under his command was a fox named Chōsui, an exceedingly malicious creature. One day, this scoundrel snuck in to steal a chicken but was discovered by Lord Tsukimaru, who bit off his tail—a humiliation he deeply resented. Since he could not rely on his own strength, he borrowed the authority of that tiger and thus resorted to such deeds. Therefore, the true enemy to target was not the tiger but first the fox. Now, if you were to rashly charge into Golden-Eyed’s cave in a frenzy and contend for supremacy with him, should you by misfortune lose, you would neither slay the true enemy fox nor avenge your parents, and your very body would become tiger’s prey. This is none other than seeking death by one's own hand—an act more foolish than a firefly drawn to flames. Moreover, your opponent is an aged great tiger, and you are but a dog; even if you possess formidable strength, should you engage him in ordinary combat, prevailing against him would prove exceedingly difficult. Therefore, take this time to hone your fangs and temper your claws—first kill that Chōsui wretch—then bide your time until the moment arrives to strike down that Golden-Eyed. ‘Rather than relying on reckless courage now and inviting worldly troubles,’ concluded Bunkaku with reasoned words, ‘enduring your resentment to nurture your vigor while awaiting the opportune moment would be far better.’ With this counsel, Kogane-maru came to fully understand this truth in his heart. After a moment, Kogane-maru said, “Until today, I knew nothing of this profound obligation, believing you to be my true father and mother, and have lived selfishly and willfully. Though my discourteous sins are manifold, I beg your forgiveness.” He then repeatedly expressed his gratitude for their nurturing kindness. “Though I could not help my ignorance in days of old,” he pressed on, “now that I have learned of the enemies who slew my parents, to remain silent goes against my very nature. Therefore, I have one request—will you grant it?” “That is not your concern—I beg you to grant me leave.”

“I shall henceforth journey through various provinces,” declared Kogane-maru, “battling fiercely with every strong dog I encounter to hone my fangs.” “While keeping watch on my enemies’ movements,” he continued, “should an opportunity arise, I will confront them and avenge my father.” “Though it may seem I know nothing of duty—unable to repay the kindness received these many years, and now seeking leave once more—I beg you to grant me this for my parents’ sake.” “If fortune favors me and I succeed in avenging my father while preserving this life,” he vowed, “then shall I repay your kindness as my heart desires.” “Until that day comes, Master Bunkaku,” he pleaded through tears, “I beg you grant me but a brief reprieve...” Bunkaku smiled approvingly. “Had you not spoken thus, I would have urged this course myself.” “Go forth on your warrior’s pilgrimage,” the ox mentor commanded, “and splendidly strike down your father’s enemy!” At these words, Kogane-maru’s resolve burned brighter. Heeding the adage ‘strike while the iron glows,’ Kogane-maru prepared his departure. “I shall not return to my master’s house,” he swore nobly, “until Golden-Eyed’s head lies at my feet!” After bidding farewell to Bunkaku and Botan, the golden-furred dog joined a wandering pack of strays, his path unfixed as autumn grasses beneath the moon.

Chapter 4

Yesterday he guarded the gate of a wealthy household, his neck adorned with a brass collar; today he became a stray dog—no nest to sleep in, no meat to eat. At night he took shelter from rain and dew beneath the floor of a wayside shrine, startled by uncouth aardvarks. By day he scavenged for fish bones at the fishmonger’s shopfront, driven off by the staves of unfeeling people. At times dragged by village children to clash with other dogs on the main road; at other times attacked by dog catchers, narrowly escaping death in the shelter of thickets. And so Kogane-maru, having left his master’s house, spent several days living in the mountains and passing time in the villages.

One day, having come upon an exceedingly vast plain, he walked and walked yet could not reach any village. The day was already drawing to a close, yet with not even a tree’s shade to take shelter under, he pressed on along the path in his anxious solitude—though hurrying all the while. Since that morning, he had not drunk a single drop of water nor eaten a morsel of food, leaving the hunger in his belly beyond description. Unable to endure the suffering, he crouched by the roadside for a time, the evening wind assailing his skin and the earth’s chill piercing his bones until he felt he might well die. Kogane-maru’s loneliness deepened. “Since I left my master’s house,” he thought, “though I’ve fought dogs wherever I went and never once considered them worthy opponents... I cannot defeat this enemy called hunger. If things continue thus, I shall vanish like dew upon this plain and become food for crows—none would even know. If I could just reach a village, there might be food... but even that is beyond me now, my legs utterly spent, leaving me no course of action. ‘Ah, these futile words!’” he lamented in utter exhaustion—and at that very moment. From somewhere they came—suddenly phosphorescent lights appeared before his eyes, rising high and illuminating low, flickering as they danced through the air as though beckoning him. Kogane-maru grasped their meaning at last. “Then could it be that my deceased parents’ spirits have manifested here to save me from this peril?” “Grateful for this mercy,” he prayed while prostrating himself, following the phosphorescent lights for what seemed four or five chō—when suddenly, the sound of a gunshot rang out nearby, and the lights vanished without a trace.

"What manner of place is this?" he wondered, looking around—and found himself before the gates of a great temple. Though puzzled, he entered through the gate to look. This was a grand ancient temple where perhaps no one now dwelled—floors had collapsed, pillars leaned askew, torn walls were stitched with creepers, decayed eaves draped with spiderwebs—all rendered it eerily desolate. As it was late autumn, maple saplings that had grown upon the roof—having seized their season to take on color—revealed through their gaps an onigawara demon tile tilting askew, evoking legends of Togakushi Mountain. Amidst tall, luxuriantly growing susuki grass, the stone Buddha standing askew evoked the image of Shakyamuni Buddha enduring the snow-clad mountains. ——Looking, upon moss-covered stone pavement. A pheasant appeared to have taken a bullet to its body, unable to fly and writhing in agony. Thinking this a fine catch, he hurriedly rushed over, pinned it down with his foot, and was about to devour it. Suddenly a voice came from behind—“You wretched stray! Don’t move from that spot!”—bellowed with a thunderous roar as he lunged. Kogane-maru started in surprise and turned to look behind him, where a pure white hunting dog stood poised to bite him. Growing somewhat agitated, he retorted, “How dare you! Who are you to call me a stray dog?” “The impolite one here is you!” “To attempt to steal the pheasant that my master shot down—you unspeakable godless cur!” “No, I found this here.” “Nay, you stole it.” “When I look, there’s no collar on your neck—it’s precisely because of scum like you that dog catchers multiply in this world, causing trouble even for the likes of us!” “If I let this pass, it’s just rude talk—repeat it, and I won’t hold back.” “That is precisely what I should be saying—there’s no point in arguing with the likes of you.” “Why don’t you hand that bird over to me while you’re still unharmed and flee quickly?” “Enough of your blathering! Do you think I’d let you take this bird I went through such trouble to find?” “This hassle—cut it out already!”

As he leapt at him, Kogane-maru shook him off with majestic force; when he tried to bite his throat, his opponent sank low and bit into Kogane-maru’s thigh. Exhausted from hunger and thirst, Kogane-maru’s courage fell short of its usual vigor, yet being no ordinary dog, his opponent proved no less formidable. Their mutual combat—locked in fierce struggle—evoked the very image of Hua the Monk clashing with the Nine-Tattooed Dragon amidst crimson pine forests.

From earlier, there had been a black cat concealed in the shadows of distant trees, listening to the two dogs' exchange. As the two began locking jaws in fierce combat, each refusing to yield, the black cat—having watched for this exact moment of distraction—stealthily crept forward. It seized the discarded pheasant and fled like a startled hare. Only after some time did the two dogs finally notice. They thought, "Damnation! We’ve been had!" Yet even if they gave chase now, it would be too late. Staring blankly at the retreating figure of the cat leaping over the brick wall with the pheasant in its jaws, their snarling maws hung agape.

Chapter 5

When the snipe and clam fight, it is ultimately the fisherman who gains. Though our case differs from that proverb, had we two not quarreled, never would a mere cat have dared mock us and snatched away the pheasant—so thought both Kogane-maru and the hunting dog as they parted to left and right, sighing in unison. Regret now proved futile—at last they steeled their resolve. After a time, the hunting dog turned to Kogane-maru. “Yet tell me—what manner of dog are you, that you wander such desolate places?” “From our earlier clash, I saw your fangs’ sharpness surpasses anything my humble self could match.” “Had that thieving cat not intervened and our fight continued, I’d have been bitten dead while you claimed the pheasant.” “…Reflecting thus, even that cat did me a life-saving service.” “Ah! How perilous! How perilous!” he exclaimed repeatedly. Kogane-maru softened his tone. “This praise oversteps my worth.” “Your own true skill merits such words.” Though unable to match him, Kogane-maru secretly felt profound respect. “There’s naught left to conceal. I am called Kogane-maru—once a gatekeeper serving human masters, but now a stray after requesting leave to pursue my long-held purpose. Yet suspect I am not.” “And what might your noble name be?” “If it please you,” Kogane-maru continued, “deign to share your name.” The hunting dog nodded deeply. “As expected—indeed as I’d surmised.” “Then by your example shall I state mine.” “As you see me—a hunting dog serving a local hunter.” “Once I pinned down an eagle—hence they call me Washirō.” “For being the white dog who caught an eagle,” he added proudly, “they devised my epithet as ‘Eagle White.’” “Though no base cur from birth, my hunting prowess made local dogs cower—none dared lower tails before me! I’d boast few dogs nationwide could best me.” “But witnessing your skill just now—how deeply my arrogance shames me!”

“Be that as it may—the details of that long-cherished wish you mentioned earlier—what might they be?” asked Washirō. Kogane-maru glanced around and replied, “Then I shall recount them in full…” He recounted everything—how his father had met a violent death; how he himself had been raised by oxen; how he had come to target the tiger and fox as sworn enemies; how he had left his master’s household to wander the provinces—leaving nothing untold. Washirō repeatedly voiced his admiration before finally declaring: “Since that is how matters stand, though my strength may be meager, I shall lend what aid this single limb can provide.” “I bear no personal grudge against the Golden-Eyed Great King himself, yet that brute revels in his ferocity, wantonly oppressing all other beasts.” “Moreover, when hunger strikes him, he charges into human settlements to stir up chaos—utterly preposterous behavior—but given any opportunity, I have long intended to humble him.” “The Golden-Eyed Great King—that aged tiger who lives up to his fearsome name—even with all my hunting prowess, facing him in equal combat would prove impossible. That is why I turned a blind eye to his lawless acts of crushing insects.” Now hearing your words, our hearts beat as one. “From this moment forth, should we two dogs unite our hearts and combine our strength against that brute, when could we ever fail to strike him down?” As he spoke these words, Kogane-maru rose with fervor: “How reassuring! If you already hold such resolve, then I—what have I left to fear?” “Let us two dogs henceforth form a bond of brotherhood. Though our parents differ, from this day forward as elder and younger brother, we shall join our strength as one.” “In recent years I have roamed far and wide, clashing with countless dogs—yet not one has withstood my fangs. A most dissatisfying state of affairs.” “That today I should chance upon you and gain such a stalwart companion—this must surely be my deceased father’s guiding hand.” “The pale flames that once lit our path—now I grasp their true meaning,” he murmured alone, voice thick with emotion. After a moment’s silence, the hunting dog spoke: “I now wish to pledge myself to you and bring down the Golden-Eyed Great King—yet while bound to a master, my resolve cannot be freely given." “From this moment I too shall cast off this collar and become a stray dog at your side!” As he moved to act, Kogane-maru stayed him: “This is recklessness, Brother Washirō! Though I am grateful for your resolve to abandon your master for my sake, this resembles righteousness yet is not righteousness—it would instead brand you a disloyal cur.” “I beg you to abandon this course!” “Nay—such concern is needless.” “I have served a hunter’s household and grown skilled in that bloody trade, ranging daily through mountain and field to capture countless birds and beasts—yet…” “Upon earnest reflection—this is truly a grave injustice.” “Even if done at my master’s command—to harm innocent creatures without cause is no righteous deed.”

“Compared to that Golden-Eyed Great King’s evils, mine are but fifty steps to his hundred.” “For this reason, I have long been determined to abandon this trade.” “That I’ve obtained this opportunity today is my fortune—I shall resolutely take my leave.” Snap.

Without another word, he severed his collar, demonstrating his resolve. Kogane-maru too now found no way to stop him. “Since your resolve is thus settled, what more could I possibly say?” “How fortunate! This temple lies abandoned with no human inhabitants—for us, a most suitable dwelling.” “From this moment, we two dogs shall dwell here!” With that declaration, they entered the temple together. Choosing a room that appeared to be the abbot’s quarters—where fragments of decaying tatami mats still remained—they established their dwelling place.

Chapter 6

Thus did Kogane-maru and Washirō pledge their brotherhood, establishing this ancient temple as their dwelling. With none to provide for them from the outset, they could not obtain food as they wished. Reluctantly, Washirō took to hunting in the mountains and fields as he was accustomed, capturing small birds to barely sustain them each day—and so they passed several days there.

One day, Kogane-maru, having gone to the village on an errand, was tracing his way back alone along a field path when he saw beneath a profusion of wild chrysanthemums blooming on a distant mountainside a yellow beast lying asleep. Though its size resembled that of a large dog, nowhere did it appear to be of his own kind. As he drew closer and looked more carefully—its ears standing erect and mouth pointed sharply—it was unmistakably a fox, though an unsightly patch marked where fur had fallen out from its tail’s tip. At this moment, Kogane-maru thought: “In Master Bunkaku’s tale long past, I heard that a fox called Chōsui once had his tail’s tip bitten off by my father Master Tsukimaru.” Now observing this fox’s severed tail-tip— This must surely be Chōsui. Ah! What fortune! What gratitude! This encounter here was heaven’s blessing. “One bite will—” he began thinking— Yet being a beast who understood duty’s bonds, attacking a sleeping foe brought no satisfaction. Moreover—should this prove another fox by mistake—it would mean meaningless slaughter. Creeping closer still, he called out sharply: “Chōsui!” At this, the fox startled awake and—without even opening its eyes—shrieked while scrambling back a short distance. The fox desperately trampled through field crops as it fled toward the village until reaching a certain house’s exterior hedge—twined thickly—which it cleared in one swift leap to vanish inside. When Kogane-maru too leapt over the hedge and charged toward the house— A child of about six years old—engrossed in play—was accidentally knocked down and immediately began wailing. Hearing these cries—what must have been the child’s parent—a large man of thirty—burst through the back door. Before even fully registering Kogane-maru poised to flee—the man roared “This cur bit my child!” in furious assumption—snatching up a nearby stick to swing down at Kogane-maru’s skull with bone-crushing force. Though mighty, Kogane-maru took the blow on his shoulder—a choked “Gah!” escaping as he collapsed—only for the man to keep battering him relentlessly. Soon they bound him tight with thick hemp ropes.

In the meantime, Chōsui vanished without a trace after narrowly escaping with his life. Kogane-maru gnashed his teeth and howled in unbearable frustration. "You harm your own child yet still rage insatiably?" "You detestable cur! I'll make you see reason soon!" With this declaration came rough dragging as they bound him to a pagoda tree behind the house.

The sworn enemy who killed his parents—just when he had finally found and was about to strike them down, not only did the foe slip away, but he himself was now bound for a trifling crime and subjected to the unjust rod of wrath—such was his misery. Even the fierce Kogane-maru, unable to bear his fangs against the human, steadfastly bore his resentment—yet tears of frustration gouged the earth, and frantic stamping made even the tree tremble.

Now, to resume our tale—Washirō had seen Kogane-maru off to the village that morning on an errand, but as evening fell without his return, he grew increasingly uneasy. He went out to the gate several times and gazed this way and that, but not a shadow of what he sought came into view. He fretted over whether any harm had come to him. “Since he is no ordinary dog from elsewhere, he likely wouldn’t be beaten by some stray-dog killer without cause.” “Even so, I cannot rest easy,” he fretted incessantly. Stealthily groaning, he himself crept toward the village and happened to pass by a certain house. Suddenly, he heard a strange groaning sound coming from within the hedge. When he pricked up his ears and listened closely, it resembled Kogane-maru’s voice coming from somewhere. Now, he did not hesitate in the slightest. Attempting to enter through a hole in the tightly woven hedge, he unfortunately encountered trifoliate orange thorns piercing his belly, yet managed to squeeze through with great difficulty. Stealthily approaching to identify the voice, Tied to a large pagoda tree, the one squirming there was indeed him. Washirō rushed over, lifted Kogane-maru up, and putting his mouth to his ear, said, “Hey, Kogane-maru, stay with me.” “It’s me—Washirō!” The voice calling out reached his ears; Kogane-maru painfully raised his head. “Is this... Washirō?” “How... glad...” Even as he spoke these words with labored breath, Washirō hurriedly gnawed through the ropes and began licking his wounds. “Are you in pain?” “What in the world happened here?” he demanded, both tending to his wounds and pressing for answers. Kogane-maru trembled and briefly recounted the circumstances of how he had been bound. “We must leave this place at once. If we’re found, our lives are in danger.” Understanding this, Washirō hoisted the grievously wounded Kogane-maru onto his back, exited through the hole they had entered by, and hastened back to their dwelling.

Chapter 7

Saved by Washirō, Kogane-maru had finally returned to their dwelling, but from this point onward, his body ached unbearably. Moreover, the bone in his right front leg was sprained, rendering him unable to stand for any practical purpose—his frustration knew no bounds. If I remain a crippled dog like this, when will my long-held wish ever be fulfilled? he thought. If I cannot fulfill this lifelong vow, I could never face my foster parent Master Bunkaku! He ground his teeth and lamented. Washirō, intuiting his anguish, sank into bitter tears alongside him. "Do not grieve so." "The world is one of seven falls and eight rises." "If you rest calmly and recuperate, you will surely heal before long." "As long as I am by your side, you must keep your heart strong," he said, alternating between scolding and encouragement as he nursed him with utmost diligence. Yet seeing no valiant signs of recovery, he himself grew utterly consumed by anxiety.

One day, Washirō went out hunting from morning to procure food, leaving Kogane-maru alone at the temple. As the early winter sky stretched serenely above, sunlight filtering through the slanted eaves fell warm and gentle. Kogane-maru slid from his bedding and sat at the veranda’s edge, brooding alone in gloom. Suddenly, a noise came from the ceiling, and clamorous voices of mice calling for rescue could be heard. Before long, a female mouse came running beside Kogane-maru, slipped under his crotch, and seemed to beg for rescue. Kogane-maru felt great pity and sheltered the female mouse under his arm. Wondering what could be pursuing her, he looked intently toward that direction—there, hiding behind a broken wooden door and peering this way, was a black cat. When he looked closely, it was the same cat that had stolen the pheasant during that previous altercation with Washirō, seizing the opportunity when they were distracted. Kogane-maru lunged in a single leap to attack; as the panicked black cat scrambled up a pillar, he bit its tail and dragged it down. Trampling, biting, and tearing, he stopped its breath on the spot.

At this moment, the female mouse timidly crawled up to Kogane-maru, politely clasped her front paws, and bowed her head several times in gratitude for her salvation. Kogane-maru smiled gently and said, “Where do you hail from, mouse? And for what reason did that cat try to harm you?” he inquired. The mouse edged forward slightly on her knees. “Then my lord, please hear me. My name is Komachi, and I am but a mouse dwelling in this ceiling. As for this cat—he is called Karasu-en, a rogue that prowls these parts. For some time now, he has pursued me with improper advances. Since I already had a mate, I refused him sternly at every turn.” “Yet still he would not desist! Just now he crept into my nest, cruelly slew my mate, and tried to drag me away. In fleeing this horror, I have disturbed your noble resting place—pray forgive this impertinence,” she recounted through tears. Kogane-maru pitied the poor creature and comforted her while glaring sidelong at Karasu-en’s corpse. “Vile cur indeed! This wretch stole our bird that day—I too bear him no small grudge.” “Truly gratifying—that divine punishment for his longstanding wickedness has now come to pass!” Just as she spoke these words, Washirō returned from hunting with two or three small birds clutched in his beak. When he saw this state of affairs and inquired about its origins, Kogane-maru recounted the entire sequence of events without omission. Washirō praised his efforts and said, “With this deed done, your illness too shall heal ere long,” as they rejoiced together. Before long, they tore into Karasu-en’s flesh along with the small birds they had brought and devoured it to their hearts’ content.

From that time onward, Komachi—moved by gratitude for her second life—began attending diligently to Kogane-maru day and night, working faithfully in all matters. Kogane-maru valued her earnest devotion and employed her with kindness. Now this Komachi had originally been kept by a traveling showman who taught her various tricks and displayed her at festival sideshows. Due to certain circumstances, she had slipped out of her cage and now dwelled in this ancient temple. At times by Kogane-maru's bedside, she would perform remembered dance movements or feats like tightrope walking and basket-escaping. Though executed with faltering skill—a shadow of her former mastery—these displays so captivated Kogane-maru that he forgot his bodily pains.

Chapter 8

Since Kogane-maru had taken to his sickbed, a little over a month had passed. Though the pain in his body had subsided, his front leg remained unhealed, making walking exceedingly difficult. His heart grew ever more anxious—if things continued like this, he would end up a lame dog unable to fulfill his purpose in life, and even avenging his parents would become impossible. "If I don't obtain good medicine now and heal this leg, my purpose will never be achieved," he thought, desperately seeking the remedy.

One day, Washirō hurriedly returned from elsewhere and said to Kogane-maru, “Hark, Kogane-maru—rejoice! I have today learned of a skilled physician.” Kogane-maru leaned forward. “This is most welcome news! Where might this physician be, and who are they?” he urgently inquired. Washirō replied, “Well now—I went to the village today and encountered an old friend. That dog spoke thus: ‘About one ri south from here lies a place called Tokusa Field, where dwells a noble rabbit known as the Venerable Akame.’ In his youth, this old one sank his enemy raccoon dog into the sea for the sake of an old woodcutter. For that deed, he was bestowed a sacred pestle and mortar from the Moon Palace, and with these he grinds all manner of medicines, now living in abundant comfort.” “If one were to go to this old one’s abode,” Washirō continued, “there is said to be no disease among beasts that would not be healed. That dog too had its left hind leg injured when village children threw stones at it some days ago, but upon obtaining medicine from the venerable one, the wound healed completely.” “Therefore,” he concluded, “though I thought to go immediately and bring back the medicine... if you yourself go to him and personally show your wound, it would be more advantageous—so I refrained from going. Even if it pains you somewhat, you’re not entirely unable to walk. If you feel even slightly better by tomorrow, try going there.” At these words, Kogane-maru rejoiced, “That is truly joyous news! Alas, how dull-witted I was not to have known until today that such a noble physician existed! In any case, I shall go tomorrow and seek the medicine,” he declared with the conviction of one who had grasped jellyfish’s bones. Before dawn the next day, he set out and followed the instructed path until he arrived at Tokusa Field to find... Within a grove of trees dyed in varied hues—haze and maple among them—there stood a thatched hut enclosed by a brushwood fence. Round log pillars with horsetail forming the eaves. The bamboo rafters were pristine, the water channel's sound clear—truly, this seemed the dwelling of a beast of noble lineage. Kogane-maru approached the brushwood gate and knocked resoundingly. From within came a voice—“Who’s there?”—and Akame himself emerged. When he looked, the rabbit had long ears and fur pure white, with eyes glowing red—at first glance, it did not seem an ordinary rabbit.

Kogane-maru first performed a respectful bow, then explained the nature of his ailment and requested medicine. The venerable rabbit acknowledged this, closely examining the wound before briefly licking it and applying an ointment. He spoke thus: “This medicine contains a divine method that Her Majesty Chang’e of the Moon Palace herself deigned to impart. No matter how severe the illness, it heals with godlike swiftness.” “Though your wound has worsened from delayed treatment,” he continued, “I shall have it healed by tonight.” “Come again tomorrow—there are matters I wish to discuss with you...” At these words, Kogane-maru rejoiced and departed after bidding farewell. As he passed through a forest’s shade, an arrow suddenly flew from thick foliage with a sharp twang. Instantly alert, Kogane-maru twisted his body and caught the projectile between his teeth with a metallic clang. He glared toward its origin. At the fork of a massive red pine trunk sat a black monkey clutching a darkwood bow, blue-bamboo arrow readied for another shot. Kogane-maru’s fierce gaze made the creature falter—it scrambled up branches and vanished among treetops without releasing its second arrow. By dawn next day, wondrously enough, his withered leg had healed completely as promised. Kogane-maru leapt with joy. Carrying bean dregs as tribute, he hurried to Akame’s abode and exhaustively expressed his gratitude. “Though a masterless dog cannot offer much,” he said, presenting his gift, “please accept this token for your medicine.” Akame received it graciously. After a pause, the rabbit solemnly began: “What I wish to ask yesterday was no trifle.” He straightened his posture. “This old one has traversed countless aeons and gained modest mystic sight—rarely erring when discerning beasts’ natures.” “Your visage reveals a hound of rare excellence,” he declared, “whose prowess surpasses all creatures. Soon you shall achieve extraordinary feats.” “In all my years meeting beasts,” he added, “never have I encountered your equal.” “You must be of noble lineage—pray tell me your origins.” Kogane-maru recounted his history without reservation.

Akame listened and struck his knee. “With this, I too comprehend fully.” “Beasts generally bear live young, but most produce multiple offspring of both sexes in a litter—parents raising a single child remain exceedingly rare.” “Since you were born as a sole pup, your strength equals that of five or six.” “Moreover, being raised on cows’ milk has granted you bovine fortitude—no ordinary hound’s ferocity compares.” “Yet how came you to sustain such clumsy injury?” asked Akame. Kogane-maru answered, “This stems from profound circumstance. “From first breath, I’ve vigilantly pursued Golden-Eyed and Chōsui as mortal foes sharing no earth with me. “The other day upon spying Chōsui mid-road, I challenged him—yet through trickery he reversed my intent, thus my shameful failure.” He detailed the events through clenched jaws: “Though I keep ceaseless watch night and day to rend him should we meet again, that wily fox avoids human settlements, denying me vengeance’s thread—this impotent fury chokes me.” Akame nodded gravely: “Your heart’s fire burns clear—small wonder frustration consumes you. “Yet Lord Kogane— “If you truly mean to slay him— “This humble one possesses an artful stratagem—though imperfect, will you not attempt it? Foxes and their kind harbor nature’s deepest cunning; even well-wrought schemes may fail against their wariness. “Yet ’tis said even sages stray when tempted by desire—to bait one’s cravings into trap requires no Herculean feat.” Kogane-maru brightened: “Long have I heard of such lure-traps yet never witnessed their form. “How might such device be fashioned?” “Construct it thusly,” came the reply, “and set bait accordingly.” “And what bait suits his taste?” “Mouse tempura—take some plump she-rat, deep-fried crisp in oil and hung as offering. “Its aroma shall pierce his nostrils—mind and spirit voiding instantly—till self-forgotten he tumbles into snare. “Hunters oft employ this method—is it not featured even in comic plays? “When you return henceforth, first prepare such trap and await his coming. “This very night that fox—drunk on fragrance—may well blunder into your device,” he concluded earnestly.

“This is excellent news I’ve received!” he exclaimed with repeated delight. As they continued conversing on sundry matters until much time had passed, the sun dipped toward the mountain’s edge, and the clamorous cries of crows flocking to their roosts could be heard. “I’ve stayed far longer than intended—pray forgive me,” he said with a courteous bow, then set off toward his dwelling. As he reached the usual forest shade along the path, just like yesterday, an arrow came flying from atop a tree. This time, the arrow grazed Kogane-maru’s shoulder, causing him to involuntarily sink his body low. Raising his voice, he shouted, “You fiend! Committing outrages again today? I’ll capture you!” and charged toward the tree. Looking up, he found it was indeed yesterday’s monkey—but upon seeing Kogane-maru’s figure, it once more hid among the foliage. Having no means to climb trees himself, he could neither pursue nor seize it. He could only fume at the hateful monkey before abandoning the chase. But why would that monkey try to shoot me not once but twice? he wondered. We dogs and monkeys have since ancient times been called proverbial enemies who bare fangs at each other—yet I have no recollection of being so persistently targeted by that monkey alone. If that wretch dares show itself again tomorrow, I’ll capture and interrogate it! he resolved, suppressing his rage as he returned that day.—Just who was this persistent monkey? And what of the fox trap’s outcome? That, you shall discover by reading the next volume.

End of Volume One

Volume Two

Chapter Nine

And so Kogane-maru hurried homeward with single-minded focus; however, as it was no short journey and what with chasing after that troublemaking monkey along his path... Having unexpectedly taken longer—with the sun having completely sunk in the west and moonlight now reflecting on paddy fields—he finally arrived.

Washirō was already leaning against the gate, having waited anxiously for Kogane-maru’s return. Before even fully seeing his figure, he hurriedly ran to meet him. “Hey, Kogane-maru! Why are you so late today? My anxiety as the one waiting surpasses yours as the one waited for—can’t you imagine? Recalling that incident from days past—though I’ve had no peace of mind—” he grumbled. Kogane-maru burst into laughter. “Now don’t hold that against me. Today I was detained by Sir Akame, and time slipped away in unexpected conversation—hence my delayed return. I never intended to make you wait so long...” As Kogane-maru apologized, Washirō did not reproach him deeply, soon masking the tension with laughter as he ushered him inside, where they finished their supper together.

After a moment, Kogane-maru turned to Washirō and relayed in detail what he had heard that day at Akame’s dwelling. “With such an excellent plan at hand,” he declared, “we must swiftly lure out Chōsui and capture him.” At this, Washirō nodded but gazed upward at the ceiling, his voice lowering slightly as he said, “As for using mouse tempura to catch a fox—having once served a hunter, I’ve long known that method and understand how to set such traps. Yet now I hesitate… for we lack a mouse to serve as bait.” He paused before adding, “Though you did save that Komachi—” “For days now, she has grown close to us and served with utmost loyalty. To cruelly kill her—this might suit a godless cur devoid of compassion, but how could we, who claim to know honor, bring ourselves to such an act?” “Truly,” Kogane-maru replied, “as you say—I too thought of Komachi first while returning here. Yet… “Having saved her from certain death, to now take her life would feel like repaying kindness with cruelty—a notion that brings me no comfort.” “Still, there’s no better course than to seek another mouse—” Before he could finish speaking, a sudden “Agh!” rang out as something thudded down from the lintel. The two instinctively split apart. Peering at what had fallen, they found it was none other than Komachi—the very mouse they had just discussed. What had she done? Blood flowed copiously from her mouth. Washirō hurriedly gathered her up. “Komachi! What happened?” “Her face is smeared with blood… Could a cat have chased her?” “Or a weasel attacked?” “Speak quickly so we may slay your foe!” When they pressed her urgently, Komachi uttered through labored breaths, “Nay… Neither cat nor weasel—’twas my own doing.” “Why harm yourself?” “What reason could there be—tell us!” they demanded. Tears streamed down Komachi’s cheeks as she said, “Ah, how kindhearted you lords are… “If it be for your sakes, I’d not begrudge even this wretched life. “My suicide—it serves Lord Kogane’s purpose.” “Then you overheard our scheme—” “You heard everything…” “I listened from above the lintel. “In days past, when that brute Karasu Tsubame forced his vile affections upon me—when my jeweled thread of life nearly snapped within his claws—it was through Lord Kogane’s mercy that it was miraculously restrung…”

“At that time, my mate met his untimely end because of Karasu Tsubame.” “Only I remain—one never deeply bound by years of affection. Whether cast into the Iwami Silver Mine’s depths or hurled into hell itself, it matters not.” “Even amidst petroleum fires or beneath washbasin waters—though we vowed to die together—now left behind by my beloved mate, what joy could this world hold?” “That this worthless life of mine endured until today to serve you… stems solely from Lord Kogane’s compassion—he who slew Karasu Tsubame, my mate’s killer, without letting him escape—and from my resolve to someday offer this life for your cause.” “Thus tonight, quite unexpectedly, I overheard your plans from above the lintel.” “Ah, how joyful! Tonight at last—the time has come to repay your kindness,” my heart secretly exulted. “Seeing you’d never sink fangs into me yourselves, I resolved to bite my own throat.” “A life cast aside for gratitude’s sake.” “Not a dewdrop’s worth of regret remains.” “Moreover, my mate—having climbed death’s mountain before me where young grasses sprout on peaks—must wait there gnawing roots.” “Though pursuing him may prove arduous indeed, my heart finds joy in this chase—” “I beg you—make tempura of this body and use it to strike down Chōsui.” “Having daily prayed to Daikokuten—now my prayers bear fruit! This body may serve my gracious Lord Kogane—oh what bliss!... Ah, the pain—no more words—farewell... farewell!” With this twilight testament, she frantically clasped her forepaws. Facing west with palms pressed and eyes closed, she breathed her last in noble posture.

The two dogs had been listening intently from the start to Komachi’s account. Kogane-maru first let out a sigh of admiration. “What a remarkable mouse!” “In the land, mice are thieves in homes—hated and despised by humans—yet even such mice can feel gratitude and act with valor for righteousness.” “Even if one were to keep that cat for three years, they say it would forget its master in three days—compared to such as Karasu Tsubame, the difference is like that between snow and charcoal.” “Long ago in Tang China, there was a man named Cai Jiafu who, avoiding water, dwelled in Nanlong.” “One night, a large mouse appeared and lay near Jiafu’s bed, so he took pity and gave it rice.” “After the water receded, it is said that aforementioned mouse presented blue silk and jeweled beads to the man to express its gratitude.” “Is this Komachi now one such as that?” “That revenge’s requital should serve revenge’s purpose—a strange covenant indeed. When pondered, it proves an inescapable karmic retribution.” “Indeed—what living being does not cherish life?” “Even the mayfly—said to be born in the morning and die by evening—when pursued, does it not seek to flee?” “Moreover, even though this mouse acted for gratitude’s sake, that she would willingly die and endure the bitter ordeal of becoming tempura—truly, Komachi’s exceptional loyalty defies words in its commendation.” However, entrusting themselves to her wish—cruel though it was—they fried her in oil. “If we lure out that Chōsui and successfully defeat that wretch, it may yet become some small seed of enlightenment for her soul—good deeds must be done swiftly!” he declared boldly. As Kogane-maru began preparing Komachi’s corpse, Washirō descended to the garden, gathered green bamboo stalks, and set about readying the trap.

Chapter Ten

To return to that Chōsui—having encountered Kogane-maru on the road days prior and been on the verge of having his life taken, he had barely managed to save himself. From that moment on, he became cautious—avoiding even daylight, never venturing near human settlements by night—and remained ever vigilant. When he heard the rumors from other beasts that Kogane-maru had been severely beaten by a human that evening and, as a result, his front leg had become paralyzed, Having felt somewhat relieved, he stealthily ventured into the village and discreetly investigated the situation, only to find that the wound was unexpectedly severe and had not healed despite the passing days. Having somehow discovered through his investigation that [Kogane-maru] planned to visit Akame of the Horsetail Plain starting tomorrow to seek treatment—"This cannot be left unattended," [he thought]. "Should he fully recover from that wound through Akame's medicine, what fresh troubles might we face again?" “In any case, unless I eliminate that wretch, I cannot rest easy with my head pillowed high.” Turning over various plans in his mind— He slapped his knee resoundingly. "Here lies an excellent plan—that Kuroi who has lately served in the Golden-Eyed Great King’s court. Though newly arrived, he has worked with such loyalty that the Great King’s favor runs deep. That very Kuroi would serve perfectly." He excels in the art of drawing the monkey bow, and I have heard that in years past, when his uncle Sawagani waged battle, his military achievements were not insignificant. Afterward, his uncle was struck down by a mortar, he became a fallen monkey from the trees, wandered to this mountain, and came to serve the Golden-Eyed Great King—but if only he still possessed the bow-handling skills of yore along with a quiver of arrows and a single bow, someone like that Kogane-maru would be effortlessly shot dead. "First, I should go to him, lay out the entire matter plainly, and entrust this affair—there’s no better course,” he thought, and immediately rushed to Kuroi’s dwelling, pleading earnestly. From the start, that Kuroi—being a deceitful, wicked monkey—agreed without objection. “I haven’t tested my skills in ages—my arm may have dulled somewhat, but..." "A mere dog of known measure—what difficulty could there be in me shooting it down with a single arrow?" “Then first I’ll prepare the bow and arrows. Tomorrow, lying in wait for his return from Akame’s abode, I shall splendidly finish him off.” He appeared most reliable as he spoke. Chōsui clapped his hands in delight and said， “Since everything has been entrusted to you，please devise an excellent plan.” “The reward shall be left to Kuroi’s wishes.”

From there, working together, they strung a haze wood bow with devil ivy vines, sharply whittled green bamboo into arrows, and soon completed their preparations.

Now, on the evening of the following day, Chōsui went to Kuroi’s dwelling and inquired about how things had gone. Kuroi first sneered boastfully and said, “Now then, Lord Chōsui—listen well. “Today I went to that Horsetail Plain, took a good seat on a roadside pine trunk, and waited for Kogane-maru’s return. “Since I had not yet seen him before, I was anxiously worrying that if I were to make a mistake and injure some other dog, it would invite future calamity—which was not my intention.” After a short while, from over there came a brown-furred dog—and with one lame leg at that—walking unsteadily. “From prior accounts, I had heard he was brown-furred with a lame right front leg.” “Undoubtedly this must be the one,” I concluded. Having gauged the shot and loosed the arrow as a warrior would— Without missing its mark, it pierced deep into his right eye, and even the fierce Kogane-maru could not withstand it—he immediately collapsed to the ground, thrashed his four legs, and died. Thinking the deed done, I scurried down from the pine tree to claim his body—when from somewhere appeared a large man, likely a dog-catcher, wielding a thick club. He approached to block my path, poised to strike me down should I resist. “If I had also killed him—since the body wasn’t particularly needed—and my triumph would be snatched away, though regrettable, I thought fighting and getting injured would be futile, so I abandoned it there and returned.” “However, Lord Chōsui—since I have indeed killed him—you may take heart even without seeing the corpse as proof.” “Ah, that Kogane-maru must be hanging from a tanner’s eaves by now.” “When I think on it—though I bore him no grudge—I’ve done a ruthless thing,” he declared matter-of-factly. Chōsui rejoiced immensely: “This is most gracious! I too shall grow bolder henceforth.” “It turns out that Kogane-maru has targeted not only me but even the august Golden-Eyed Great King as his sworn enemy, and should his injury heal, he plans to invade this mountain and bite the Great King to death.” “……Even if Tashishi (the name of the dog kept by Hatatokino) possesses wisdom and bravery, to bare fangs against our Great King is an act of utmost folly—like a Sichuan dog barking at the sun.” When the Golden-Eyed Great King deigned to hear this, feeling some measure of fear in his heart, he did not deign to venture out frivolously. Now that Kuroi has shot and killed him with a single arrow beneath his bow, not only has this removed my worries, but it is as if we have excised the tumor from before the eyes of the Golden-Eyed Great King. From now on, even the Golden-Eyed Great King will be able to rest with his pillow raised high—this is entirely due to Kuroi’s efforts, and his achievement stands truly unparalleled. “I shall now present myself before the Great King, report Kuroi’s deed, and have him receive a grand reward.”

With that, he departed in high spirits.

Chapter Eleven

Thus Chōsui departed Kuroi’s dwelling, yet remained as oblivious to the falsehood in his words as roadside dew glimmering beneath the moon knows its own ephemerality. Overwhelmed by joy, he cried, “From tomorrow, the world will be clear—I shall go forth freely to villages and fields!” “Ah! How delightful! How joyous!” he exclaimed. With the feeling of a human long confined to prison suddenly released into society, Chōsui arrived at the Golden-Eyed Great King’s cave, his steps light as air. At that very moment, the Golden-Eyed Great King had summoned Shōsha, his beloved deer consort, close by and was engrossed in a banquet. Chōsui, upon seeing this, first courteously inquired after his liege’s well-being. Then, regarding that day’s events, he plainly narrated how Kuroi had shot and killed Kogane-maru. The Golden-Eyed Great King rejoiced immensely: “That is a great achievement indeed.” “Yet why did you not bring him here? You should have let him receive his reward.” To this Chōsui replied, “I too thought so, but as night had already deepened, let us postpone this matter tonight. Tomorrow evening, summon him and hold a grand banquet. Then I shall go to the village tomorrow and procure many provisions.” Hearing this, the Golden-Eyed Great King nodded: “Very well—arrange it as you see fit.” “As you command,” said Chōsui.

Chōsui returned to his dwelling without a bow.

Now, the next morning, Chōsui ventured out toward the village without any preparations. He searched for food from field to kitchen until sunset, but finding no decent prey, he gave up and took shelter in the shade of a nearby bush. Suddenly came the creaking sound of a cart—a large ox pulled a massive wagon, with a single driver berating it as he approached. Chōsui hid himself and peered at the cart. From which port they had come—besides rice packed in straw bales, numerous salted salmon and dried sardines were loaded. Having found these desirable items, he let the cart pass while hidden, then suddenly leapt onto it and soundlessly cast down bits of provisions onto the road—all while the ox driver remained oblivious. Only that ox—perhaps sensing strangeness as the cart lightened—would occasionally halt and glance back. The ox driver—still unaware—instead thought it lazy and drove it onward with relentless scolding. Thus after progressing about a quarter-mile—with most provisions now discarded—he deemed his task complete and leapt down from the cart. He gathered all he had thrown and tried carrying them mountainward— The pile stood unexpectedly tall; alone he could not bear it. Yet abandoning them pained him; agonizing over solutions, he paced fretfully awhile.

From the shadow of the distant forest, a beast abruptly came running toward this direction. Wondering what it could be, he peered closely. It was none other than that Kuroi. Carrying a bow and arrows under his arm, he was about to dash past without so much as a sideways glance when— Chōsui hurriedly called out to stop him, saying, “Hmm, Lord Kuroi! Pray wait!” Finally noticing, Kuroi came to a halt and looked back toward Chōsui. He merely stood there wide-eyed, still unable to utter a single word. Chōsui suppressed his amusement and said, “What’s this hurry about? “Your face is unusually pale… Could something be chasing you?” he inquired. Kuroi heaved a deep sigh for the first time. “How terrifying! “In that forest just now, I saw a golden… a golden bird.” “I tried to bring it down with a single arrow, but who could have foreseen that it was a great eagle? The moment it saw me, it came rushing to snatch me up in one swoop.” “How terrifying! How terrifying!” he exclaimed, rubbing his chest as he recounted the tale. Chōsui chuckled, “That was truly perilous. Yet here you are today, Lord Kuroi—an honored guest who could feast on delicacies without stirring from your seat. Why trouble yourself to go hunting, only to encounter such danger again?” “Quit nitpicking through fur to find wounds—indulge your whims in moderation.” “Be that as it may, today I received the Great King’s command to invite Lord Kuroi this evening and have come to the village since morning to gather provisions. Though I have procured this much, they are so numerous that I cannot carry them alone—hence my predicament.” “Now that you have come, Lord Kuroi—how fortunate! The Great King must be eagerly awaiting [your arrival], so please lend your assistance and help transport these provisions.” “This isn’t for anyone else’s sake—all is intended for Lord Kuroi,” declared Chōsui. At this, Kuroi too chuckled and said, “That’s a simple enough matter. “Fortunately, there’s a bow here. Let’s carry this together with it.” “First, pray wait—there’s something I must prepare.”

Soon, he picked up a large old straw mat, wrapped the provisions within it, and bound them tightly with rope from above. Inserting the aforementioned bow into the bundle, they carried it between them—one at the front and one at the rear—like a human palanquin, hastening toward the Golden-Eyed’s cave.

Chapter Twelve The two beasts, Chōsui and Kuroi, bundled all those salted salmon, dried sardines, and such into one package and carried them off to the Golden-Eyed’s cave. Before long, they prepared these provisions, summoned a multitude of beasts, and commenced a grand banquet. All the beasts, hearing of Kuroi’s deeds from the previous day, lavished him with the utmost praise, whereupon Kuroi sat there with a most self-satisfied expression, his nose twitching smugly. The Golden-Eyed Great King—who had always kept Kogane-maru in mind and fretted over future troubles—now relaxed his heart in delight at having lost that very threat, drank more wine than usual, and appeared most cheerful. Chōsui and Kuroi, seizing this moment as their decisive opportunity, maintained a jovial mood. When Chōsui sang, Kuroi danced; when he leapt through the Shinoita Forest, this one strung together available vines to perform tightrope tricks—at which the Golden-Eyed grew ever more delighted, laughing and swaying incessantly. At length, when the drink had circulated to twelve parts, he lay using Shōsha’s lap as a pillow—unaware of his surroundings—and let out thunderous snores whose echoes resounded through the cavern momentarily. As time passed in this manner, Chōsui—now intending to withdraw—bade farewell to the other beasts, exited the Golden-Eyed’s cave, and tramped his way back to his dwelling while stomping his feet heavily. At this time, the sky cleared of clouds, and the light of the moon—about ten days old—shone brightly and purely without a shadow. The fields and forests were all as visible as in broad daylight, presenting an indescribable panorama. Chōsui—absentmindedly forgetting to return to his dwelling—gradually made his way toward the foothills, sat down on a nearby tree stump, and gazed at the moon for a moment. “Ah! How pleasant! Today’s moon looks especially clear and radiant.” This too must be because eliminating that golden whelp—whom I had long found disagreeable—has momentarily cleared the clouds lingering in my chest... Ah! What a radiant moon! Were I a tanuki, I might even beat my belly drum in delight.” Yet Chōsui—unaware that this very radiance marked divine retribution for his years of wicked deeds; unaware that Kuroi’s lies now bound him to a fate as certain as this moonlit sky—continued basking in foolish exultation, never suspecting this shining orb heralded his ruin.

Just then, carried by a faint breeze from an unknown source, there came an exquisitely fragrant aroma. Finding this strange, he sniffed again—it was unmistakably the scent of his favorite delicacy: tempura-fried mouse. Chōsui narrowed his eyes and murmured, “How sweet... how savory! Who could have prepared such a feast for me?” “I must go claim this hospitality,” he declared, pushing through pathless thickets as he tracked the scent’s origin. The closer he drew, the more intensely the aroma assailed his nostrils. His mind now emptied of all else, he searched frantically until—there within a bamboo grass thicket—he finally glimpsed the mouse tempura. Just as he lunged to bite it, a metallic clang rang out as something constricted around his neck. “Damnation—a trap!” Mortification burned through him at having been so easily duped. “Quick—before humans come! I’ll escape yet!” He thrashed with all his strength, but not only was it futile—the noose gradually tightened around his throat until agony beyond words consumed him.

At this moment, the thickets of small bamboo grass on either side rustled noisily, and a figure emerged. “So it’s finally the hunters!” he thought—but when he looked, it was not humans at all—rather, two remarkably robust dogs. At this moment, the dog on the right stepped forward and declared, “Halt, Chōsui! Do you recognize me?” As he spoke, Chōsui—in his dazed state—looked at the dog. How now! It was none other than Kogane-maru, whom he had ordered Kuroi to shoot just yesterday. Startled once more, he tried to speak, but no voice emerged; he could only stare wide-eyed and writhe in agony. The dog continued speaking, “How you must be suffering—and rightly so. “But if you have ears, listen well. “You skillfully deceived my father and had him bitten by the Golden-Eyed. “I too, because of you, was struck by humans though innocent and grievously wounded in the leg—thus my layered grudges run deep. “However, since you thereafter—fearing me—never once showed your face in the village, I found myself unable to settle my grudges and was deeply frustrated—when lo! “Following Lord Akame’s teachings, we set a trap here tonight and secretly awaited your coming. “Earlier, one abandoned her life for my sake; Komachi’s sincere heart reached through, and though you were foolishly lured close, your falling into the trap was an inescapable fate. “Now I shall rend your flesh, shatter your bones, tear you limb from limb, and thus settle my grudges! “Have you learned your lesson, Chōsui?” he cried—but before the words had left his mouth, they lunged from both sides, seizing and biting. Unexpectedly from behind came the call: “Ho, Kogane-maru! Wait a moment. “I have some reason to think. “Allow this cur to keep his life for a moment longer,” came the call as someone emerged slowly. The two dogs, startled and wondering who it could be, peered through the moonlight. At some point, he had come—this was none other than Kogane-maru’s foster parent, the ox Bunkaku. “Well, well!” was all they could manage as the two dogs once again had their spirits drained.

Chapter Thirteen

The arrival of Bunkaku in such a place was an unforeseen event, so Kogane-maru’s astonishment was by no means small. “How strange, Master Bunkaku! For what reason have you come here? Well, be that as it may, I am glad you have been in good health since then.” As Kogane-maru bowed, Bunkaku nodded and said, “Your surprise is warranted, but there is some reason for this.” “Now, as for this dog here—” he said, pointing at Washirō and asking. Kogane-maru turned back and said, “This is Brother Washirō—due to various events the other day, we unexpectedly formed a brotherly pact. He is a truly reliable and brave dog in all the land.” “Now, Brother Washirō—this Lord Ox is Master Bunkaku, my foster parent whom I have often mentioned,” he said as they introduced each other. Both Bunkaku and Washirō had completed their first greetings without exchanging formal bows. Kogane-maru again addressed Bunkaku: “But then, Master Bunkaku—what urgent matter could have brought you here tonight?” he hurriedly inquired. “Well then, listen well. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine encountering you all here tonight.” “Today, I was pulled by my master’s servant to a market in this area, bringing a cart loaded with salted salmon, dried sardines, rice, and such.” “As we passed through the shadow of that great thicket, a fox emerged from the underbrush, leapt onto my cart, snatched the fish, and threw them down.” “That damn stray fox—when I looked closely, it was none other than Chōsui, whom I’ve loathed for years!” “This cur has yet to fall into Kogane-maru’s fangs and still loiters around this area, committing such misdeeds!” “I tried to pin him down with a single thrust—my mind frantic, but what could I do? For I was tethered to the cart and could not act as I wished.” “I tried to inform the servant of this, but alas, as our languages did not communicate, he remained completely unaware, and the fish were stolen one after another.” “After arriving at the market, we first realized that a third of our goods were missing.” “The servant panicked terribly and cursed wildly in every way.” Realizing they must have fallen off along the way, they turned back to search, but not even a shadow of what they sought could be seen, leaving them no choice but to resign themselves. “What I could not resign myself to lay within my heart.”

“Having witnessed Chōsui’s vile deeds before my very eyes, I found my resentment with no outlet for release.” “Moreover, as Kogane-maru here has a sworn enemy he cannot coexist with under heaven, my resentment does not stem from that matter alone.” “Very well—I resolved in my heart to capture him tonight and later present him as a gift when meeting Kogane-maru.” “First I slipped out of the cowshed and searched here and there—then by chance came to this place. Not only was encountering you all beyond my expectations, but even that detestable Chōsui being captured like this brings me such joy.” Hearing this account, Kogane-maru said, “So even you, Master Bunkaku, fell victim to such mischief?” “Again and again, that hateful Chōsui—now I’ll make him know!” As he lunged to bite, Bunkaku once more pushed them apart in an instant, saying, “Do not be hasty, Kogane-maru. Now that he has fallen into the trap, he is like a fish upon a cutting board—to kill or spare lies entirely at our will.” “However, since this Chōsui is the Golden-Eyed Great King’s trusted retainer, if we interrogate him thoroughly, we may naturally learn the layout of the king’s cave. For now, observe how I proceed.” So saying, he stepped forward, grabbed Chōsui by the collar, loosened the trap, and pinned him beneath his knee. “How now, Chōsui.” “Now that you have fallen into our stratagem, resign yourself—your ill fortune has reached its end.” “Originally, you were a divine messenger of Inari Daimyōjin; had you properly kept to your station, people would have revered you and refrained from harm.” “Since your nature is wicked and your greed deep, you were not content with offerings of fried tofu.” “You abandoned the sacred jewel, slipped out from Inari Daimyōjin’s shrine, became a stray fox without even a fixed den, and wandered off to that mountain.” “He brushed dust from the Golden-Eyed Great King’s whiskers, brazenly flattered him, borrowed his authority, and harmed countless beasts—crimes deeper than Lake Suwa and vaster than Nasuno Field.” “Behold! Since your tail has not yet split into nine and you lack the divine power to fly across three provinces, you have at last clumsily fallen into a trap and shall vanish like dew in this field—this is indeed the inescapable karmic retribution. Now you shall understand the full measure of Daimyōjin’s divine punishment!” “Yet listen steadfastly.” “Do not hesitate to correct your wrongs—know that even a single Buddhist prayer at life’s end can eradicate all karmic sins! If you now repent your past evils, swiftly change your heart and answer what we ask of you.” “As you already know, for years we have targeted that Golden-Eyed as our sworn enemy.” “If an opportunity arose, we would storm in and take his bearded head—so we resolved.” “However, the mountain where he dwells has treacherous paths that are hard to navigate.” Moreover, within the cave dwell fierce beasts of unknown number, and even what defenses exist there we could not begin to scout—hence our hesitation until today. But we had long resolved that once we captured you, we would interrogate you thoroughly and make you tell all. “Therefore, now before us, you shall speak in detail of the layout of the Golden-Eyed Great King’s cave and the defenses of that mountain.”

“If even now you still value him over truth-telling, then we three shall rend you limb from limb at that very moment,” said Bunkaku. “We’ll gore you with horns and tear you with fangs, making you taste suffering as we please. Or if you prefer—with one decisive strike, we’ll stop your breath for an easy death. Since your life cannot escape this fate, your final words alone shall decide whether you plummet to hell or ascend to paradise.” He pressed Chōsui with every possible word—now threatening, now cajoling—as he concluded, “Consider swiftly and answer!” Chōsui—whether from remorse or terror—could no longer dam the tears spilling from both eyes. “Ah! I erred! I erred grievously!” he wailed. “Master Bunkaku of unassailable logic—your words tonight have shattered decades of deluded dreams! When I contemplate my karmic sins now, how terrifying they appear!” Wheezing through labored breaths between coughs, he continued, “But enough—cornered by Lord Dog’s demands, I’ll now recount my tale as deathbed testimony. Lord Golden must hear this too.”

Chapter Fourteen

At this moment, Bunkaku slightly loosened the collar he had seized, yet remained not the least bit off guard. “If you have something to say, out with it now. Even at this late hour, should you attempt to deceive us and seize an opening to flee, do you truly think we would fall for such a scheme?” As he spoke, Chōsui shook his head and said, “Your suspicion is reasonable, but since I have already repented my sins and changed my heart, why would I commit such a cowardly act?” “But then, Lord Golden—how is it that you remain unharmed?” When Bunkaku asked in surprise, Kogane-maru sneered, “I was truly deceived by you—the other day, lured into a human’s house where I was soundly beaten, then tied to an enoki tree in the rear. Come dawn, my very hide would have been stripped away. But Washirō here rescued me, barely salvaging this precarious life. At that time, my leg was injured, and for a moment I couldn’t walk. Even this injury was healed by Akame’s medicine, restoring me to my former self.” And with that, he stamped his foot to demonstrate. Chōsui cut him off before he could finish. “Ah, but Lord Dog—though I had indeed secretly learned of how you were beaten by humans then and injured your leg. What I speak of is not that matter. Since the day Lord Dog began pursuing me, with my person now marked as an enemy, there is no knowing when or how I might finally be slain. If I do not eliminate Lord Dog, my heart shall never find peace—so I pondered this way and that. Unaware that I was watching for an opportunity, when I secretly heard that Lord Dog had visited Akame yesterday to tend to his wound, I rejoiced. I immediately entrusted this task to my trusted friend Kuroi the monkey, ordering him to shoot Lord Dog along the way—and heard he had splendidly finished the job… So even I was deceived by that wretch.” At this, Kogane-maru burst into hearty laughter and said, “With that, I too have come to understand. I had not yet told even Washirō. Yesterday, upon returning from Akame’s abode, as I passed through the shade of the forest, someone aimed at me and loosed an arrow. Thinking it must be village children’s mischief,” I caught the arrow in my mouth and looked toward its origin. Thinking it was a human, but to my surprise, it turned out to be a large monkey. I glared at the hateful wretch, but right then, this bastard fled and vanished.”

“However, since I had no reason to bear a grudge against that monkey, I couldn’t fathom why he would commit such an act—but now, through your words, I’ve come to understand the reason behind his outrage.” “Yet today too, he lurked in the same spot.” “He tried to shoot me.” “This time as well, that arrow didn’t hit me—it merely grazed near my shoulder and lodged in a tree root behind.”

Upon hearing this, Chōsui gnashed his teeth. “How vexing! How infuriating! The old fox called Chōsui—so readily deceived by a mere mountain monkey like Kuroi—how galling! It was precisely because I thought uncertainly—wondering if such a thing could happen—that I visited his dwelling last evening and inquired how matters had proceeded.” When he nonchalantly claimed to have splendidly finished the job and returned, I too had believed his account. Now that I think back to that time—when he claimed my body had been taken by humans and such—those too were lies he had spun to deceive me, no doubt intending to keep his tail hidden. Thus, even though he had deceived me, fearing that if he were to encounter Lord Dog again, the matter would be exposed, he must have once more hidden in the forest today and attempted to shoot Lord Dog. When I put this together, that fearful demeanor he showed when I previously met him in the thicket shade must also have been because he was being pursued by Lord Golden. That I had noticed not even a dewdrop's worth of this—truly, how utterly careless I was. Ah… All of this too must be the retribution for my evil deeds—though there is no cause to resent others. “If this wretch had not existed, even tonight I would not have suffered the humiliation of the trap’s snare like this,” he writhed in regret eight thousand, a hundred thousand times over, eyes bulging. After a moment, he pressed a hand to his chest to steady himself. Ah—what use was regret now? Whether I resist or yield, this life is already forfeit. Now, as Master Bunkaku commands, I shall describe the Golden-Eyed Great King’s cave in detail. As for the Golden-Eyed Great King’s cave—it lies over two ri from the foothills, requiring one to cross mountains and ford valleys, though how many times this must be done remains unknown. If one ascends via the shortcut path, one would reach the cave entrance in a mere ten chō. Now, as for the Great King’s subordinates—beginning with Kunka (brown bear) and Kokumen (wild boar)—there is no shortage of fierce beasts. Since they are all divided among various mountains and guard their respective posts, usually only I and that Kuroi are near the cave, attending to the Great King day and night and catering to his whims. Recently, the Great King deigned to bring back a female deer called Shōsha from somewhere, and as he became engrossed in her beauty, the favor our faction received was stripped away day by day, which we privately resented. And so, on the day I fled after being pursued by Lord Golden, I reported to the Golden-Eyed Great King that Tsukimaru’s surviving child was targeting me and him as sworn enemies. He too, feeling some apprehension, had summoned the aforementioned Kunka and Kokumen to guard near the cave, while refraining from carelessly venturing out himself. Upon hearing just yesterday that Kuroi had struck down Lord Dog, he rejoiced beyond measure and immediately ordered the guards dismissed.

"For tonight being a celebration of having eliminated Kogane-maru, he had a grand banquet prepared." "I too attended that banquet and had been drinking until just moments ago, but left early alone. Encountering this predicament on my return—it must have been death god’s beckoning." As he spoke, Kogane-maru stood up and glared fixedly at the distant mountains. "So tonight in his cave—the Golden-Eyed Great King and his beast subordinates carouse at a banquet?" "The hour has come—this very night!" "The time to fulfill my lifelong vow." "Oh glorious day! Oh joyous day!" he cried out, exulting to heaven and earth like one possessed. Chōsui continued speaking, "Truly tonight brings conclusion." "When I withdrew earlier, the Great King lay drunkenly with Shōsha’s lap as pillow, insensible to all." "Beside him that damned Kuroi merely danced in revelry, while other beasts having gorged themselves returned to their lairs—leaving the cave completely unguarded." "If your lordship proceeds there from here, ascend via the shortcut path." "Though somewhat rugged, tonight’s clear moon will prevent straying." "That shortcut... cleave through yonder cedar grove’s shadow—cross the brook and head east." "Now the cave lies rock-layered with creeping vines—but mark the great hackberry nearby as your assault landmark." Having thus exhaustively instructed—

Washirō, upon hearing this, could not help but marvel. “Truly, those strong in evil are also strong in good—so they say.” “Now repenting your past wrongs, you have loyally taught us the strategy to storm in.” “Therefore, appreciating this goodwill of yours, we shall promptly defeat that Kuroi and avenge your grudge.” “Rest in peace and attain Buddhahood with ease.” “This is a most gracious command.” “In that case, I have no lingering thoughts—deign to swiftly bite through my throat.”

When resolve reached its limit, the fox's true nature remained utterly unshaken. "Splendid work," Kogane-maru declared as he drew back his fangs and severed the throat in one swift motion.

Chapter Fifteen

Kogane-maru first bit Chōsui to death—rejoicing boundlessly as his courage surged tenfold—and hastily prepared to head straight for the cave. Together with Bunkaku and Washirō, they raced single-mindedly along the path Chōsui had described until emerging into a mountain ravine where the trail grew increasingly treacherous. Thorns proliferated ever thicker, intermittently barring their way. Where pines and cypresses veiled the moon, darkness defied description; at every step they risked catching their feet on rocks and plunging into thousand-ren chasms. Washirō—naturally adept at such paths as a former hunting dog—declared “I’ll lead,” taking point as they pressed onward until finally reaching a ridge. Here only grass grew thickly; sparse trees let moonlight illuminate an easily traversable path. Suddenly from a roadside thicket darted a figure crossing before Washirō. “What devilry!” he growled, bracing himself—revealing an enormous black monkey with a sandalwood-hued face who staggered like a drunken human toward a pine trunk he frantically tried but failed to climb. Each slip and fall only redoubled his efforts. Washirō turned to Kogane-maru: “Do you not see yonder? A monkey straining vainly at that pine trunk.” “Could that be Kuroi?” At his indication, Kogane-maru peered over: “No mistake—’tis Kuroi himself.” “That wretch can’t climb because he’s been swilling wine in the Golden-Eyed King’s cave till now.” “Capture him for questioning—we’ll learn the cave’s state...” “If it’s truly Kuroi, I’ll bite him first—as agreed with Chōsui.” Barking “You’ll not escape me, Kuroi!” he charged forward. The monkey thudded prostrate, exhaling persimmon-ripe breath: “What noble hounds pass this way?” “I’m but a lowly mountain ape dwelling nearby.” “This ‘Kuroi’ you name isn’t my bosom friend—your business lies not with me.”

As he spoke, Kogane-maru came walking from behind Washirō, burst into raucous laughter, and said, “You, Kuroi! Even if you are drunk, you wouldn’t forget my face. I am Kogane-maru, whom you tried to shoot yesterday at Tokusagahara!” he rebuked. Still feigning ignorance, Kuroi said, “Golden Hall or Silver Hall—I have no acquaintance with any of them. Even if you come to mine iron, this mountain won’t yield even copper,” spouting nonsense that made no sense. “Arguing with a drunken one is futile—just a single bite!” As Kogane-maru moved to pounce, Kuroi frantically clung to the pine trunk. “How cruel you are, Lord Dog! Surely even you know of my ancestor Iwagami Kamezaru—Lord Dog’s ancestor Bunseki Daihakukun, together with mine, followed Momotarō in crossing over to Oniga Island, where they performed no small military feats. From some unknown time, a rift arose between them, and they bared their fangs at each other—is this not truly contrary to their original intent? Therefore, I have always esteemed you Lord Dogs and thought to establish rapport sooner or later—though I harbor not the slightest intent to harm—by what crime do you deign to bite me? Do you not fear the divine retribution of Sannō Gongen?” he blustered with all manner of excuses, all the while seeking an opening to flee. Washirō grew intensely agitated and barked, “You evil monkey! Just because you ape humans, do you dare scorn us? We have long known your crimes. Even if you craft your words skillfully and scheme to talk your way out, how could we ever be deceived? Cease your lies once and for all—I’ll end your breath here!” he barked sharply, lunging at him. From the start devoid of divine powers like Sun Wukong’s and doubly impaired by drunkenness—how could he match dogs? In an instant, Kuroi was bitten to death.

Chapter Sixteen

Washirō bit off and severed Kuroi’s head, rejoiced at this blood offering, and carrying it in his jaws pressed onward into the deepening shadows. Abruptly the path ended where the mountain surged upward, leaving no stony trail to follow. “How strange—have we lost our way?” As they peered through the gloom, there appeared what seemed to be a cave beneath the dim canopy of an ancient hackberry tree. “This must be the Golden-Eyed Great King’s den,” they concluded. Drawing closer revealed towering crags like chiseled stone draped in crimson autumn ivy—a living tapestry resembling painted screens. Beyond the cave mouth lay heaped white bones beyond counting—years’ worth of beasts and birds devoured by the tyrant. Kogane-maru crept to the entrance first. Though darkness veiled the interior’s depths, thunderous snores echoed from within—a rumbling that might have been the earth’s own axis groaning. He still sleeps deeply, Kogane-maru realized. If we strike now during this lapse... The golden dog locked eyes with Washirō. “Do not falter!” “Never!” they barked in unison, each bolstering the other’s resolve. Together they charged inside where Shōsha lay pillowed against stone beside their quarry—and drove powerful kicks into the tiger’s flank. The blow jolted the king awake with an earth-shaking roar; twisting mid-leap he scrambled backward toward daylight as they pursued. Suddenly Bunkaku barred their path—horns lowered and muscles coiled to gore any who approached. “Reinforcements?!” snarled the tiger. “This Golden-Eyed Lord will show you true desperation’s fury!” he bellowed with mounting frenzy. His roar cascaded like a hundred thunderbolts striking at once, shaking valleys with indescribable terror.

As they moved about, the three beasts unleashed their secret techniques and fierce maneuvers—charging right, leaping left, rampaging freely in all directions—and fought for half an hour. The Golden-Eyed Great King, having drunk wine earlier, could not command his four limbs as he willed. Against opponents of such renown as Kogane-maru and Washirō—no ordinary dogs—even the mighty Golden-Eyed Great King proved too formidable. As he appeared to falter slightly, Kogane-maru seized the moment and sank his fangs through the king’s jaw into his throat, while Washirō simultaneously clamped down from behind upon the tiger’s testicles with all his might. At the agonizing injury to his vital spot, the Golden-Eyed Great King let out a groan and collapsed helplessly. With this, the tension in their hearts slackened all at once, and the two dogs fell heavily to either side, prostrate and unable to rise even for a moment.

Bunkaku had remained at the cave entrance until now, never taking his eyes off the two dogs' fierce struggle. At this moment, he slowly advanced inward and diligently licked and tended to the two who had fallen unconscious. When he saw that they had finally regained their strength, he praised their efforts that night with the utmost words. At last, they bit off the Golden-Eyed Great King's head, and Bunkaku affixed it to his horns. Then they ran down the mountain and hastened to the manor official's house. Thus did Kogane-maru return to his master's home and present said Golden-Eyed Great King's head. The master, though he had long harbored suspicions, was immeasurably delighted. “What a feat, Kogane-maru! And Washirō too—magnificent!” “If we speak of avenging his father, that matter stems from my own resentment and is not worthy of deep praise.” “For years he oppressed countless beasts and even harmed humans, his tyranny growing fiercer daily—yet by slaying that Golden-Eyed Great King, you have removed peril from beasts and dispelled woes from humankind. The merit thereof is truly immeasurable!” With these words of utmost praise, he then bestowed upon Kogane-maru a golden collar and upon Washirō a silver one, appointing them both as guardians of the household. Both of them, feeling gratitude for this favor, never neglected their loyal service—so it is told.

Happily ever after.