Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

Itō Kihee was walking alongside Asakusa Kannon's Nokotsudō Hall, accompanied by his granddaughter Oume. To this procession had been added Oume's wet nurse Okashi and the physician-monk Ogi. Kihee looked at Oume. “Well now, Oume, you seem much better today. Even so, it’s not good for you to walk too much. Shall I have a palanquin summoned for you?” “No, no, I still find this preferable.” Oume had fallen ill from pining after Tamiya Iemon, a ronin who lived next door to her family home. This Iemon had been cohabiting with Yotsuya Samon’s daughter Oiwai through illicit intimacy as fellow retainers in the same household, but having embezzled funds from their lord’s coffers, despite Oiwai’s pregnancy, they were forcibly separated by Samon’s intervention. The wet nurse Okashi had been instructed by Oume's mother Oyumi to purchase toothpicks.

"I had forgotten to purchase the toothpicks. Would you care to take a look for your amusement?"

Okashi led the group—Oume included—to the toothpick shop. At the toothpick shop sat Osode, Yotsuya Samon's adopted daughter clad in yukata, carving toothpicks as she had been employed to do since the previous day. Kihee called out. "Here now, girl—gather various sorts and present them here."

Osode feigned ignorance. Kihee was irritated. "What's this woman dawdling for? Bring them out already!" Osode finally raised her face. "You are of Kōya's esteemed household, aren't you?" "Indeed." "In that case, I cannot sell them to you."

“What did you say?” “Should your esteemed will ever waver regarding this matter, who knows what curse may befall you? You would do well to make your purchase elsewhere.” Ogi suddenly emerged from behind Kihee. “This insolent wench—I won’t let this pass!” Chōsuke the medicine peddler from Fujihachi Gomon’s shop, who had drawn near, intervened. “Now, now—what’s all this? No need for such harshness.” Then to Ogi: “She was only hired yesterday—a woman who barely knows toothpick prices yet. Pray do not take offense.”

Kihee restrained Ogi. “Leave off striking her. It would hinder our pilgrimage.”

Kihee urged Oume and the others onward and departed.

Chōsuke then accosted Osode. “Osode, you shouldn’t be speaking of trivial matters in your condition. And yet when you think on it—for Yotsuya Samon’s own daughter to become some toothpick shop drudge... I suppose we must accept this as the way of the world now. Miss Osode—you ain’t exactly ignorant of how things stand. How ‘bout becoming my mistress or wife? You game?”

Chōsuke sidled up to Osode. Osode scowled. “Lord Okuda Shōgen was of the same rank as my father Samon, yet you—who were merely his errand boy—dare lay hands on me? How outrageous! How vile!” “You’re the one who ended up in a place like this too, given how the world is now. You ain’t got no right saying things like that.”

Chōsuke placed his hand on Osode’s shoulder. “Ugh, I don’t want to hear it!”

Osode shook off his hand and withdrew into the back room. Chōsuke gave a bitter smile. "Ain't no woman as stubborn as that."

Two

At Takuetsu’s house, Chōsuke of Fujihachi Gomon was growing impatient in the inner room. Chōsuke had come here thinking that if money could buy his way—after hearing from Osode’s associates that she was engaged in hellish work at Takuetsu’s house. There was an oil lamp there, but with a cloth draped over it from above, leaving the room pitch-dark.

“What in the world’s happened here?” Osode entered there. “You came! You came!”

Osode groped her way to Chōsuke’s side.

“Couldn’t wait any longer, Miss Osode.” “Huh?” Osode had been going by Omon there, so she started. “Nothin’ t’be ’fraid of—s’me.”

Osode realized for the first time from his voice that this was Chōsuke.

“You—!”

Osode abruptly stood up, slid open the shoji screen, and fled. Chōsuke gave chase. “Now now, Miss Osode.” Chōsuke seized Osode’s kimono sleeve. She could no longer escape. “However you slice it—you and this face—” “Naturally we’ve not been made to meet before now—but you’ve been quite filial indeed.”

Osode covered her face with her sleeve and said nothing. “Now you should sit down,” said Chōsuke. “You’re only doing this work for your parents’ sake—I know everything.” “Y-yes,” replied Takuetsu. “So listen—why don’t you wash your hands clean of this life today? If your folks found out about this business, it’d ruin old-fashioned Lord Samon.” “I too... that’s precisely why—” “Course you do.” He pulled out coins from his breast wallet and continued: “Here—use this money to buy Lord Samon a proper lined robe and make him wear it.”

Osode gazed intently at Chōsuke's face. "I... I'm sorry." "Nah, ain't no need for them formalities. 'Stead o' that, let's head over yonder an' talk proper-like." "But... not that."

“Ain’t it fine? No need to play hard to get forever.”

Chōsuke pulled Osode into the room. At that moment, Takuetsu’s wife Oiroku appeared in the doorway.

“Miss Omon, a moment.”

Osode was in a predicament. Osode immediately stood up and came out. “What is it, ma’am?” “It’s a customer.” Oiroku led Osode to another room.

“He’s a quiet customer, so mind you treat him properly.” Oiroku departed exactly as she had come. Osode paused briefly in thought before decisively sliding open the shoji and stepping through.

“Please make yourself comfortable.”

The customer shifted his body heavily. “If I wanted to sleep alone, I wouldn’t have come to a place like this. Get over here.”

Osode did not approach.

“There is something I must ask of you.” “What?” “My family was originally of samurai status, but due to circumstances, my father became a ronin.” Osode jumbled truth and lies to appeal to clients’ sympathies, receiving money without any involvement. “That’s a sorry tale, but some turn courtesan for their parents’ sake.” “Or do you have a fiancé or something?” “No, it’s not like that.” “Then there’s nothin’ wrong with it.” The customer’s hand reached for Osode.

“What—”

Osode involuntarily jumped back. From that motion, the wrapping cloth hung over the lantern fluttered down. At the same instant, the two cried out.

“Ah! You’re my wife!” “You’re Yomoshichi!”

The customer was Osode’s fiancé Satō Yomoshichi. When Yomoshichi’s main house had fallen and its household members were scattered, he had blended in with them and was hiding. Yomoshichi became like fire.

“Osode! What’s this state you’re in? Some reckless stunt because you’re desperate for a man?” “I’m speechless with disgust!”

Osode clenched her teeth in bitter frustration. "That's too harsh, Mr. Yomoshichi. You're the one who currently has me as your wife, yet you come to a place like this?" Osode had nothing to conceal. Their hearts immediately melted together.

Soon, Yomoshichi and Osode borrowed a lantern bearing the characters ‘Yabu-no-Uchi’ from Takuetsu’s house and set out. At that moment, Chōsuke emerged, watched the two of them depart, and was struck by a flash of insight. The target’s the lantern.

III

Shōsaburō, who had disguised himself as a beggar and was walking along the rice field path behind Kannon, met Satō Yomoshichi and exchanged clothes. Yomoshichi also handed Shōsaburō the lantern he had borrowed from Takuetsu’s house, “A hinin has no use for a lantern. This too is yours.”

With that, he left. Shōsaburō looked at his own appearance by the lantern’s light, “If fellow beggars find me looking like this, it’d be trouble.” Shōsaburō then went to the front of Fuji Gongen. From the shadow of the shrine, a hooded man quietly emerged, peered closely at Shōsaburō, then gouged his flank with the kitchen knife he held. “Yomoshichi! The rival in love! Have you learned your lesson now?”

The hooded man was Chōsuke. Chōsuke had been targeting the lantern marked 'Yabu-no-Uchi,' so he mistook Shōsaburō for none other than Yomoshichi. "Take this! And this!"

The brutal Chōsuke hacked Shōsaburō to pieces.

“This’ll do. This’ll do.”

Chōsuke recalled something and hurled the kitchen knife into the nearby hedge. At that moment came the clatter of scrambling footsteps as someone came running out. Chōsuke hurriedly hid himself nearby. It was Yotsuya Samon and Iemon who had come clashing swords. Iemon had met Samon along the way and demanded Oiwai’s return, but when Samon refused, he tried to kill him. “You bastard, old fool!” “You villain!”

Samon had been cut and was drenched in blood. Iemon pursued him closely and struck again with his blade. Samon collapsed. Iemon delivered the finishing blow. "You stubborn old fool! That rust on your blade's what you deserve!"

At that moment, Chōsuke’s face emerged from the darkness nearby. “That voice—it’s definitely Mr. Tamiya.”

Iemon stared fixedly in Chōsuke’s direction. “Okuda’s errand boy Chōsuke? What brings you here?”

At that moment, the clatter of geta echoed from ahead. Iemon and Chōsuke hid behind the shrine. The clatter of geta drew near. It was a robust woman clad in Tsujikimi attire, clutching a thread-woven shield.

“What could Father possibly be doing out so late?”

A woman carrying a lit small lantern came running, but seeming quite flustered, collided with a heavy thud against the woman in Tsujikimi attire.

“Oh, my apologies.” The woman with the small lantern bowed her head courteously. The woman in Tsujikimi attire fixed her eyes on her face.

“Ah—you’re my younger sister!” The woman holding the small lantern had likewise fixed her gaze upon the other. “You’re my older sister!”

The woman in Tsujikimi attire was Oiwai, and the woman with the small lantern was Osode. Oiwai had come searching for her father Samon who had gone out begging, while Osode had come pursuing Yomoshichi after parting ways with him midway. Osode clearly saw Oiwai’s wretched appearance. “You—how could you debase yourself as a Tsujikimi?” Oiwai stared fixedly at Osode’s face. “You’re the one with a proper husband in Mr. Yomoshichi, yet I hear you’ve been engaged in some rather...flavorful work of late.”

“Huh—that’s...” “It’s all poverty’s doing—Father hid it from both of us while begging within Kannon-sama’s precincts. So though I became a Tsujikimi, my actual flesh remains unsullied.” “The same holds true for me; though I perform shameful work, my actual flesh stays pure.” “And precisely because of such deeds—when I met Mr. Yomoshichi tonight and accompanied him—I became separated from him along the way, so now I search.”

“I’m worried too—Father’s been gone far too long.”

At that moment, Oiwai found something on the ground. “There’s that blood right next to you!”

Osode raised the lantern. By that lantern's light, Oiwai found Samon's corpse, and Osode found Shōsaburō's corpse. "Oh no! This is Father!"

“It’s Mr. Yomoshichi!” Oiwai clung to Samon’s corpse, and Osode clung to Yomoshichi’s corpse and wept. From behind the shrine, Iemon and Chōsuke—who had been watching this scene—deliberately amplified their footsteps and emerged.

“A woman’s weeping—this is no ordinary matter!” Iemon said this and went to Oiwai’s side. “You’re Oiwai, aren’t you?” Oiwai raised her face.

“Ah—you’re Mr. Iemon!”

Chōsuke went to Osode’s side.

“Is that you there, Osode?”

Osode was sobbing. "To end up like this... in the same place as Father..." Overwhelmed by grief, Oiwai and Osode attempted to take their own lives. Iemon was being theatrical. "You fool! If you sisters kill yourselves now, who will avenge your parent and husband?"

Oiwai steeled herself there. “Then, even as estranged husband and wife, will you assist our vengeance?” Iemon smirked inwardly at having Oiwai within his grasp. “Separated or not, without divorce papers we remain wedded. We’ll avenge both your father and sister’s husband.” Chōsuke coerced Osode into agreement.

“Since it’s come to this, I’ll absolutely lend you my strength.”

IV

At the Tamiya Iemon residence in Zōshigaya, Iemon was talking with the massage therapist Takuetsu while assembling lanterns through piecework. The conversation concerned Kodaira—an errand boy hired to assist during Oiwai’s childbirth—who had stolen the Tamiya family’s ancestral medicine called Souseiki and fled. At that moment, a hand clapped from within the folding screen. Takuetsu rose to his feet. “Yes, yes—do you require medicine?”

When Takuetsu entered behind the folding screen, Iemon clicked his tongue.

"To go and squeeze out some brat in these meager circumstances—no damn consideration. This is why amateur wives are such a pain." Takuetsu emerged from behind the folding screen, placed the medicine pot on the charcoal stove, and began fanning the flames.

Iemon grimaced. "Is this Oiwai's medicine, or the newborn's?" "This belongs to Lady Oiwai."

At that moment, Akiyama Chōbee came rushing in.

“Mr. Tamiya! We’ve caught that wretch Kodaira! The medicine he stole and fled with—it’s here!” “This is too kind.” Iemon threw aside the half-pasted lantern he’d been working on, took the cloth-wrapped package from Chōbee, and said, “And as for that wretch Kodaira—”

At that moment, Sekiguchi Kanzō and servant Banosuke entered, trussing up Kodaira. Takuetsu bore responsibility for having recruited Kodaira. “Because of you, damn it, even I’m in a bind now!”

Iemon was thinking of cruel things. Kodaira was trembling with fear. “Please, I beg your forgiveness.” “No damn way, you fool! I ought to take your head clean off, but since you returned the medicine and paid back yesterday’s money, I’ll spare your miserable life. But in exchange—you better believe I’m gonna snap every last one of your fingers!” Kodaira trembled. “Master, I beg your mercy—anything but that!”

Chōbee exited abruptly.

“Shut up!” he bellowed, then ordered everyone, “Now, gag him!”

Prompted by Chōbee, Kanzō, Banosuke, and Takuetsu gagged Kodaira with a hand towel and first removed his sideburns. At that moment, Oume’s wet nurse Ogi arrived at the entrance with a servant carrying a sake barrel and tiered food box. “I shall make the request.” Iemon saw this and ordered the three men to throw Kodaira into the wall closet before welcoming Ogi with feigned innocence.

“Please, do come in here. Though neighbors we may be, I must humbly apologize for our perpetual neglect. Might your honored master remain in good health?” “You have my deepest gratitude. Master Kihee and Widow Yumi both tender their kind regards.” “Having heard your esteemed wife Lady Oiwai has been delivered of child—though this be but a meager token—”

Ogi presented the gifts before him. Iemon was exceedingly courteous. “Oh my, oh my! As ever, your thoughtful gesture leaves me deeply obliged. These vessels shall be returned from our side.” “Understood.” Then she took out a small yellowish paper-wrapped package from her pocket and said, “This is a secret heirloom medicine from our family’s retired elder—a wonder drug for women’s ailments. Please give it to Lady Oiwai.”

Iemon accepted it. "I am deeply obliged for this consideration. Now then, promptly—" he said, looking at Banosuke, "You there—go prepare hot water."

At that moment from within the folding screen came an infant’s cry. Ogi pricked up her ears. “Ah! The young master—is it a boy?” Iemon nodded. “That it is.”

“Congratulations on this auspicious occasion. Now then—” When Ogi’s party had departed, Chōbee and Kanzō had already opened the sake barrel’s lid, taken out the tiered food box, and set about preparing the drinks. Iemon smirked.

“Well, what a hectic pace they keep.”

V

Iemon returned from Kihee’s house. Iemon had gone to Kihee’s house to express his gratitude when a large sum of money was piled before his eyes by the household members, and— “You must become our son-in-law!”

When he was told this,

“I have a proper wife called Oiwai, and what’s more, there’s a child.”

he said, maintaining a proper front. Then, as Oume took out a razor from her obi to kill herself—and just as he was startled—this time Kihee:

“Lord Iemon—kill me, I beg you.” he said that out of excessive fondness for Oume’s loveliness, he had made Ogi carry what he called miraculous women’s medicine—a poison that altered facial features—to sever the bond between Iemon and Oiwai.

It was at that moment that Iemon had decided to take Oume as his wife and returned home. Iemon went upstairs and approached the mosquito net where Oiwai lay sleeping. Oiwai, who had been nursing the infant, sensed a presence. "I've brought the oil." Oiwai thought that Takuetsu, who had gone to buy oil during Iemon's absence, had returned. Iemon thrust his face forward. "It's me." Oiwai knew from that voice that it was Iemon.

“Lord Iemon.” “Hmm—I’ve just returned. Did you take that medicine earlier?”

“Yes, when I took that medicine, I immediately developed a fever and my face hurt.” “So, your face...” “It felt numb.” Oiwai said as she lifted the hem of the mosquito net and emerged. Iemon turned his attention to her face. Oiwai’s face had swollen to a purple hue, with her left eyelid sagging like a crushed crescent moon. It was a face too horrific to behold twice. Even Iemon was shocked. “Ah! It’s changed! Changed completely!”

Oiwai found it utterly strange that Iemon was startled in the same way Takuetsu had been startled upon seeing her face earlier. “Has something… changed about my face?” Iemon hurriedly moved to cut her off. “Wh-what? In just a short while, your complexion has improved—seems his medicine finally took effect.”

Oiwai felt a vague unease. “Even if my complexion has improved, I somehow—” she began, then abruptly grew somber. “If I should die, I beg you not to take a second wife for this child’s sake, at least for a while.”

Oiwai’s eyes, now disfigured, welled with tears. Iemon said as if chewing and spitting out the words. “A second wife? Of course I’ll take one—you think I can stay alone?” “If you die, I intend to take one right away.” “What?” “Isn’t that only natural?” “My, how heartless you are!” “I’m heartless anyway. Don’t cling to a heartless bastard like me forever—go find yourself a decent man and have him avenge your father’s death.”

Iemon had to somehow drive out Oiwai before tonight, when Kihee was supposed to bring Oume. Oiwai clenched her teeth.

“How could you be so heartless, when we have such a dear child?” “What’s so cute about it? If you think it’s that precious, I’ll give it to you—take it and get out! A faithless wretch like you—I won’t suffer another moment. Get out—now.” “What are you saying? When have I ever committed such unfaithfulness?” “Playing dumb won’t save you—you’re committing adultery with that masseur!” “That’s too cruel—that’s far too cruel!” Oiwai collapsed into tears. Iemon had suddenly remembered something.

“Even if you say that, I’ve become a demon through and through.” He cast sharp glances around the area, found the fallen comb and picked it up. “A fine thing—perhaps I’ll take this along.”

Oiwai clung to his hand. “Ah! That’s my mother’s memento comb—please, spare that one!”

Iemon shot a sharp look. “Can’t I even take this?” “Please, not that one!” Oiwai was desperate. Iemon reluctantly threw down the comb.

“Then give me something—I suddenly need money.” Even if told to produce something, all items that could be converted into money had already been carried off. Oiwai thought for a while, then stood up as if she had remembered something. “Then... my...”

Oiwai untied her obi, stripped down to a single underrobe, and tearfully presented her garments before Iemon. Iemon snatched them away. “This much isn’t enough.” “Right—there’s the mosquito net.” Oiwai was appalled. “If you take that mosquito net—what of the baby?” “Who cares about the brat? If mosquitoes bite him, that’s a parent’s job—chase them off yourself.” Iemon briskly removed the mosquito net and left, paying no heed to Oiwai as she wept silently.

VI

Oiwai dragged her agonized body and brought out a cracked hibachi from the kitchen. And while setting up the mosquito coil on it, she looked at Takuetsu.

“No matter how you look at it, this is too much—with all these mosquitoes here!” Takuetsu fidgeted while avoiding Oiwai’s ghostly visage. “What a terrible thing he’s done. Even I, a man, have lost all affection.” “Why don’t you stop staying with that heartless man forever, Miss Oiwai—just be with me—”

Takuetsu took Oiwai’s hand and pulled her close. Oiwai, startled, brushed off his hand. “How preposterous! You—to think you’d dare make such advances upon a samurai’s wife!”

Takuetsu let out a vulgar laugh. “No matter how much you alone uphold your chastity, Lord Iemon’s heart has long since changed.” “It would be for your own good to heed my words now.” “No matter how my husband may be, I am myself—defiled.” “Though I may be a woman, I am a samurai’s daughter—to even suggest unfaithfulness is beyond the pale!” Oiwai suddenly grasped the sword Kodaira was wearing and removed it. Takuetsu panicked.

“Ah! Dangerous!”

Takuetsu lunged at Oiwai and tried to wrest the sword away. Oiwai struggled to keep hold of it, and in the scuffle, the sword somehow flew off and embedded itself beneath the transom. Oiwai staggered.

“L-Let go!”

Oiwai tried to rush toward the sword. Takuetsu panicked. “N-now—please calm yourself! What I said earlier—all of it—were lies.” “Even if I were curious—with that face of yours—” “Huh? What’s wrong with my face?” “Poor thing—the medicine he made you take wasn’t any ‘miraculous cure,’ but rather... Well, see for yourself.” Takuetsu took out a mirror from the comb box. Oiwai hurriedly placed her hands on the mirror and reflected her own face, but unable to believe it was hers, she looked behind her.

“Is there someone behind me?” There was no one behind her. “Is this… is this truly my face?” Oiwai shuddered and burst into tears. Takuetsu had to tell the truth. “The reason he forced unwilling me into those indecent acts was all because he must drive you out tonight for his wedding with Kihee’s granddaughter—it’d be inconvenient otherwise.”

Oiwai became like a madwoman upon hearing this. "There's nothing left but death now," she resolved. "While I still breathe, I must pay my respects to Lord Kihee. Prepare the tooth-blackening tools—quickly, quickly!"

Takuetsu was trembling.

“If my lady in her postpartum state applies tooth-blackening—” “It’s fine—quickly, quickly!”

Takuetsu, seeing Oiwai had become like a madwoman, tried desperately to restrain her but found himself powerless. Takuetsu reluctantly brought the tooth-blackening tools. Oiwai applied the blackening while trembling, then began combing her hair—but with each stroke of the comb, clumps of hair fell out, followed by thick streams of blood dripping down. “Ah! The fresh blood dripping from her balding scalp—” Staggering to her feet—Should I see my resolve through…?

Takuetsu was holding the wailing infant. “Lady Oiwai—wait, wait!” Takuetsu approached Oiwai’s side and placed a hand on her shoulder. Oiwai’s body staggered and began to collapse. There, the sword that had been stuck in the transom was about to fall—Oiwai’s throat met that blade.

“Ugh... ugh...” Dark blood stained Oiwai’s body from her face downward. Takuetsu shuddered violently. “D-disaster! A disaster!”

At that moment, a cat appeared out of nowhere. “Damn it all! A cat with a corpse is bad news!”

Takuetsu chased the cat. At that very moment, a large rat bit into the cat and emerged from above the transom, immediately dropping it onto the tatami mats. Takuetsu laid the infant down and ran out front. Outside the gate stood Iemon, clad in formal *kamishimo* attire.

“Masseur—did it go well?” Takuetsu was frantic. “Disaster! Disaster! Disaster! Lady Oiwai is in grave danger! And there’s a huge rat—the cat—!”

Takuetsu ran like a madman. Iemon couldn’t comprehend what was happening.

“What’s this? What’s with the rat?” “He goes shouting ‘Rat! Rat!’ while fleeing—has something gone awry?” “Then should I frame his manservant as the adulterer?” He then went inside. “Oiwai! Oiwai!” At his feet, the infant began to cry. Iemon started.

“Ah! I nearly crushed it underfoot!” “Where’d you go, Oiwai? Hey, Oiwai!” At that moment, his large rat came running from nowhere once more and bit the wailing infant. Iemon swiftly scooped up the infant and scanned his surroundings frantically. There lay Oiwai’s corpse. Iemon bolted forward.

“Ah! Oiwai’s dead!” Spotting the sword, he exclaimed, “This is that bastard Kodaira’s Red Sardine! So he’s the one who killed her?”

Iemon opened one of the sliding doors. There, Kodaira had been confined in the same state as during the day. Iemon suddenly dragged Kodaira out, untied his bindings, and removed the gag. “Hey, Kodaira! How dare you kill Oiwai!” “Preposterous! Until just now, both my hands and mouth were bound!”

“And yet—look! Your hands can move, can’t they? Now speak! Why did you kill Oiwai?” “If you insist on saying that, then I’ll admit to being the killer of Lady Oiwai—so please spare his Souseiki.”

“You fool! I already pawned his Chinese medicine!”

“Then... that... at his pawnshop—”

As Kodaira tried to run away, Iemon drew his sword and slashed from behind. “Oiwai’s vengeance!”

There, Akiyama Chōbee and Sekiguchi Kanzō entered. Chōbee widened his eyes. “Mr. Tamiya—what on earth is this?”

Iemon was hacking Kodaira to pieces. "I have executed the villain."

Iemon then asked Chōbee and Kanzō to throw Oiwai and Kodaira’s corpses into the Kanda River.

Seven Iemon opened the folding screen and tried to approach Oume. He had just performed the nuptial cup ceremony that night when Kihee arrived late with Oume. "How about it, Oume?" Iemon sat by Oume's pillow and peered at her face turned down in bashfulness. Then Oume— "Lord Iemon, may our union endure through ages." With these words she raised her face—but it was not Oume's; it was the horrifying visage of Oiwai.

“Agh!” Iemon drew the sword at his side and slashed. The head tumbled forward with the sword’s motion, but the fallen head was Oume’s. “So it was Oume after all.”

Iemon, panicking, jumped into the adjacent room. There lay Kihee, sleeping while holding the infant. “Lord Kihee, this is dire!”

Iemon woke Kihee. It was not Kihee but Kodaira, who had bitten the infant to death and stained his mouth with blood. Kodaira saw Iemon.

“Master, give me the medicine.”

Iemon leapt up. "You bastard Kodaira! How dare you kill the child!" Iemon’s sword swung toward that neck once more. At the same moment, the head tumbled down—but it was Kihee’s head after all. "This must be the work of a vengeful spirit!"

Around it, blue flames burned dimly.

Iemon swung his sword wildly as he headed for the entrance, but the door slammed shut of its own accord, trapping him.

Eight

The sun set beyond the flow of Inobori-bori, and the mournful toll of the evening bell echoed through the air. Iemon, his face hidden beneath a deep woven hat, lowered the two or three rods he had been carrying on his shoulder and began fishing. Beside him was Chōsuke, who had taken up eel catching; while smoking tobacco, he polished a tortoiseshell comb that had come his way during his work, using straw. Iemon, seeing this, took out his tobacco and tried to borrow a light. “I’ll trouble you for a light.”

Chōsuke composedly offered the pipe’s fire. “Allow me to light it for you,” he said, then peered into the hat. “It’s been an age, Mr. Iemon.”

Iemon was surprised. "So you're Chōsuke?"

“That very Chōsuke has now become Gonbei the eel-catcher.”

As they spoke, the float began to twitch. Iemon saw this and raised his rod—a small crucian carp was hooked. “Ah, a crucian carp.”

Meanwhile, another float began to move. "That’s another bite!" Iemon raised it while shouting boisterously, carried away by his momentum. It had a catfish hooked, which fell onto the grass. Iemon hurriedly pulled out a nearby sotoba to pin down the catfish, and upon tossing it into the fish basket, flung the grave marker aside. The sotoba fell before the female beggar who had collapsed nearby and lost consciousness. That was Oume’s mother, Oyumi. Oyumi was searching for Iemon’s whereabouts to take revenge on him. Oyumi picked up the sotoba. On the sotoba was written the secular name Tamiya Iemon. It was something Iemon’s mother had erected to deceive the world for the sake of her son, who had committed the grave crime of murder.

"Ah, this name written beneath the posthumous name—the villain who killed father and daughter—does this mean he's no longer in this world?" Iemon signaled to Chōsuke, who had realized this. There, Chōsuke became Oyumi's opponent.

“Why would they erect a grave marker for someone alive? It’s been exactly forty-nine days since Iemon died!”

Oyumi was overwhelmed by bitter resentment. Iemon cautiously rose and moved forward, then suddenly raised his foot and kicked Oyumi. Oyumi fell into the river without resistance with a splash. Chōsuke marveled.

“I see now—you truly are a villain.” Iemon grinned slyly. “This too I learned from you.” At that moment, Chōbee, covering his cheeks and peering about restlessly, arrived and spotted Iemon.

“Mr. Tamiya, so this is where you were.” He should not have spoken the name. “Here! Here!” “Ah, this is it. But I mustn’t let you be implicated—I mean to journey to distant provinces. Travel funds, if you please.” “Even willing, I can’t secure the documents.” “No documents? Shall I lodge a complaint?” “Well, that…” Iemon reluctantly handed Chōbee the authorization letter received from his mother and dismissed him, then lifted his fishing rod to depart.

Just then, a cedar door came floating down the current ahead, but when it inexplicably rose upright, the straw mat draped over it fell away. There lay Oiwai’s corpse, rotted by water and reduced to mere bones. Iemon, terrified, thrust the cedar door before him. The door flipped over with a heavy thud at that moment. Behind it lay Kodaira’s corpse with algae clinging to its neck.

Nine

Osode was diligently circling around the shikimi tree roots, holding a machete.

That place was at Fukagawa Hōjō-in’s gatefront, commonly known as the Triangular Estate. Osode was with Chōsuke selling incense sticks. At the shopfront where a pale winter sunset trembled, a single garment hung on a clothes-drying pole fluttered in the wind. Beside it at the wellside was a washbasin in which were soaked mud-caked women’s garments—laundry that Shōshichi, clerk of the Kaneya pawnshop, had requested to be washed, claiming they were forfeited pledges. Osode, perhaps troubled by something on her mind, stopped circling around the shikimi roots and went to the washbasin’s side,

"This clothing looks familiar—this must be Sister’s." The garment was one that Oiwai had worn, but since Osode did not know of Oiwai’s death, she could not definitively conclude this. Chōsuke returned there. “Hey—it’s near dark already—ain’t you puttin’ away them dried fish?” As Chōsuke entered the house, Osode followed him inside.

“The rice seller came with rice, so I casually told them to come back later.”

“I see.” Then, having thought of something, he pulled out his comb from the straw sack’s tobacco pouch and said, “If it’s this comb, they’ll probably lend us some money.”

Osode was shocked when she saw it. “Oh, that comb—where did you pick that up?” “A couple days back, I got caught in an eel trap under Saruhashi Bridge. You recognize somethin’ about it?” “Wait—this is the comb Sister treasured as Mother’s memento. Combined with these clothes Mr. Shōshichi asked us to wash—what in the world is happening?” “Hey, don’t talk nonsense—there’s plenty o’ the same stuff in the world.”

Chōsuke then attempted to head to the pawnshop. Osode clung to his hand. “Even if the clothes are different, this comb is definitely Sister’s comb. Please—just this one—” “You’re bein’ just as pig-headed righteous. “First off, you’re still playin’ loyal to your dead husband—”

Osode, even when pressed by Chōsuke, had refused to become his wife until Yomoshichi’s killer was found. Osode soon went to the kitchen to prepare the evening meal.

Chōsuke went out to the entrance during that time to head to the pawnshop. Just then, from the clothes soaking in the nearby washbasin, a bony hand shot out and seized Chōsuke’s leg. Chōsuke trembled violently and dropped the comb he was holding. Then, the hand from the washbasin withdrew.

“That was definitely a woman’s hand.”

While Chōsuke was lost in thought, Osode came out carrying a meal tray, but he noticed the comb he had dropped. "Sister said this comb was precious—look what you've done to it!" Osode picked up the comb, but her mind still lingered on the rice seller. "It's not for some extravagance—please let me borrow Sister's comb."

With that, she tried to send Chōsuke to the pawnshop. At that, Chōsuke,

“Alright then, I’ll go.”

With that, he tried to take the comb from Osode. Then from within the washbasin emerged another emaciated hand that seized the hand holding Chōsuke’s comb. “Ah!” Chōsuke, startled, threw the comb down again. But this was not visible to Osode.

“What’s gotten into you…? Where did you throw the comb?”

“There it is—in the washbasin! You take it yourself!”

Osode peered into the washbasin, but nothing resembling a comb was visible. Osode cast a brief glance around the area, then gently grabbed his garment and shook it. The water in the washbasin turned into bright, fresh blood. Osode was shocked. And then, from within it, a single rat, still clutching his comb in its mouth, darted out. Chōsuke immediately spotted it.

“A rat! A rat!”

The rat went to the Buddhist altar, placed the comb it had been clutching in its mouth, and vanished no sooner than it had done so.

10

Osode was shocked to hear from Takuetsu the masseur that Oiwai had been killed by Iemon and thrown into the Kanda River. Moreover, when she heard they had accused her sister of adultery with Kodaira and executed them together at Sugido, she could not even shed tears. Chōsuke comforted Osode. “The one we hate is Iemon. Just keep your spirits up and wait for the right time—I’ll surely exact our revenge.” Osode hand-poured a cup for herself, drank it, and then offered it to Chōsuke.

“Here, have a drink.”

Chōsuke took the cup and had Osode pour him a drink.

“This is a feast. Even for a woman in your position, you can’t help but drink—and that goes even for someone like me, a stranger.” “Because others crowd so near, this cup comes offered from me—a woman.” “I see.” “The wedding’s already done with. Once today passes the hundredth-day memorial for my parent and husband, starting tonight—” “Then you…” “My heart breaks chastity to preserve chastity.”

As the two were stepping behind the folding screen, there came a brisk knocking at the front door. Chōsuke lifted his head.

“Who’s there?”

A man’s voice answered from outside. “’Scuse the bother—need a bundle o’ incense sticks.”

Chōsuke was disgusted. Chōsuke spat out. “Too bad, but we’re all out.” “In that case, the shikimi here will do.” “Ain’t no way that’s goin’ cheaper’n a hundred a stick. Get lost an’ buy it somewhere else.”

The man outside fell silent for a moment but immediately raised his voice in a panic.

“Look, look! A thief’s making off with the laundry!”

Chōsuke sprang up and threw open the storm shutters. There stood a single man.

“This is quite—I must have left it here by mistake.”

Chōsuke was about to take the laundry inside when he noticed the person before him and recoiled in shock.

“A demon! A demon!” Chōsuke jumped into the house and slammed the storm shutters shut, holding them fast. Osode too came out in surprise.

“Where? Where’s the demon?” At that moment, a man’s voice sounded from outside. “I’m no demon! Open this place!” “See me and you’ll know.”

Osode caught the sound of that voice.

"That voice... I must have heard it before." Chōsuke waved his hand. “No good—that’s the demon!” “Even so,”

Osode tilted her head, got up, went over, and opened the storm shutters.

The man outside was Yomoshichi. “Oh! You’re Mr. Yomoshichi!” “Osode? I had been searching for your whereabouts, but to find you in such a strange place—how perplexing.” “Compared to me, you—on that night at the rice field path behind Kannon—met your end at someone’s hands.” “That? Then it must be Okuda Shōsaburō.” “On that night, after parting from you, I met Shōsaburō and completely changed my garments.” Looking toward Chōsuke, he said: “You’re the medicine peddler I’ve seen around Asakusa—your name is indeed Mr. Chōsuke.”

“Ah.” While Chōsuke stood frozen in shock, Yomoshichi turned his gaze to Osode. “And what brings you here at this hour?”

Osode was slightly troubled, but then noticed the cane that Takuetsu had left behind. “Oh, oh—that’s a blind masseur’s cane, isn’t it?”

Osode didn’t know where to put herself, for Yomoshichi—whom she had thought dead—had suddenly appeared. Osode had yielded her body to Chōsuke to have Yomoshichi’s vengeance carried out, but now found herself trapped by that very act. Osode finally made up her mind. Osode whispered to Chōsuke. “Since I’ve entrusted you with this grave matter and become your wife, as your wife after all, I’ll have Mr. Yomoshichi drink wine and lead him myself.”

There, Chōsuke went outside and concealed himself in the thicket.

There，Osode whispered to Yomoshichi． “After I ply him with a nightcap and put him down，I’ll snuff out the lantern．”

And so Yomoshichi too went outside. Osode gauged the timing there and extinguished the lantern’s light. Seeing this, Chōsuke took his deba knife while Yomoshichi drew his sword; entering the house, they stabbed through the screen they had targeted. At the same time, a woman’s scream was heard. Thinking they had achieved their objective, the two flung aside the screen. Inside the screen lay Osode, blood-drenched. At that very moment, the moon cast its light. The two stared at each other in astonishment. “What is this?”

“This...”

Osode finally raised her face.

“Mr. Yomoshichi, please forgive me.” “And then, after Mr. Chōsuke has avenged our adoptive father and sister, please seek out the brother I was separated from in childhood and explain this situation to him.”

Osode had an older brother from whom she had been separated in childhood. Osode, with difficulty, took out a farewell letter and umbilical cord record from her bosom and handed them to Chōsuke. Chōsuke stared fixedly at the umbilical cord record. It read: 'Motomiya Santayu’s daughter Sode.' Chōsuke saw it and was astonished. No sooner had Chōsuke taken Yomoshichi’s sword that lay nearby than he suddenly struck off Osode’s head. Yomoshichi was astonished. “Why would you do such a thing?”

Chōsuke plopped down heavily where he stood and thrust the sword into his own abdomen.

“Mr. Yomoshichi, please listen.”

The brother whom Osode had been searching for since their childhood separation was Chōsuke. Through the umbilical cord record, Chōsuke learned that Osode—with whom he had just exchanged wedding cups—was his sister, and moreover, that the man he had killed at Kannon's back, mistaking him for Yomoshichi, was none other than the son of his former master. Chōsuke died while lamenting his own despicable heart.

一一

Iemon went falconry accompanied by Akiyama Chōbee. The two were chasing small birds here and there when their hawk strayed, so they went after it. The moon hung in the sky, and fireflies danced along the roadside. There was a house with pumpkin vines crawling along its eaves, and at the entrance of the chestnut-log gate stood a bamboo adorned with Tanabata paper strips. Chōbee took this in and went to peer inside. Inside was a pavilion-style room with an engawa veranda, where a lovely maiden in a summer-weight long-sleeved kimono spun thread at a spinning wheel illuminated by the bright light of a lantern placed beside her. Chōbee reported that to Iemon.

“A beautiful woman is spinning thread at a spinning wheel.” “What beautiful woman?”

“That is indeed so.”

“In that case, why don’t you lead the way and inquire about the hawk?”

There, Chōbee entered inside. “The hawk strayed and we lost track of it, but perhaps it came this way.” The hawk was perched atop the lantern. The maiden serenely gazed at the hawk. “It is here.” Chōbee was astonished. “Well now, this is strange indeed!”

Iemon entered inside upon Chōbee's report and soon took out the sake from the gourd at his waist and began drinking. Iemon was drawn to the maiden. "What is your name?"

At that moment, a single poem strip came fluttering through the wind. The maiden took it and, “This contains my name.” Having said that, she presented it. On it was written the poem from the Hundred Poets anthology: *“As the rapids hasten, dashed against rocks, the torrent river’s—”* Iemon tilted his head.

“So this is your name?” “The very rock dashed against in those rapids—that is my name.” Iemon tried to release the maiden and leave. But as she seized his sleeve—the maiden’s face became Oiwai’s face. “Ah—”

Iemon leapt up. At the same moment, the hawk in his hand transformed into a giant rat and lunged at him. “So this is your vengeance!” Iemon drew his sword. And as he wildly slashed at his surroundings, his spinning wheel turned into a blue fireball and began spinning madly.

一二

“Come now, has it come over you again?” “They’re here! They’re here!”

Iemon, startled, opened his eyes. Because Iemon was tormented by Oiwai's vengeful spirit, he had secluded himself in a hermitage on Snake Mountain, where a monk named Jōnen was performing prayers for him.

Outside, snow was falling. Iemon lit the lantern, then went to the flowing kanjō basin by the entrance and poured water from a bucket.

"For my wife who died in childbirth—at least her child's future—" Then the poured water blazed into heart-fire, and from its flames emerged Oiwai cradling her infant.

Iemon stumbled into the hermitage cell, his breath ragged with panic. Inside lay the shredded remains of paper curtains he had torn apart during his earlier frenzy. Oiwai's vengeful spirit drifted through the doorway after him. His body convulsed in violent tremors. “Oiwai!” he rasped, voice cracking. “Enough of this haunting—find your peace!” The specter swayed closer unsteadily, extending the swaddled infant cradled in her decaying arms toward him. “If I believed you dead...” Iemon’s eyes darted between the ghost and child. “Does this mean you’ve been raising it all along?”

Iemon happily took the infant from Oiwai’s hands. At the same time, a multitude of rats appeared. Iemon, startled, dropped the infant he was holding. The infant landed on the tatami mats with a heavy thud. That was a stone Jizo statue. At that moment, Mother Okuma, who had been beside him, let out a shriek and recoiled. It was at Mother Okuma’s gurgling throat that Oiwai had pressed her mouth.

“You!”

Iemon drew his sword and ran wild through the area, but when he came to his senses, he had cut down every last one of the numerous constables who had come to capture him. Iemon ran out from that spot just as he was. And then, before his eyes— “Iemon, wait!”

Having declared this, a figure came running forth. That was Yomoshichi. “Are you Yomoshichi?” Iemon stiffened and braced himself. Yomoshichi drew his sword.

“For Osode’s sake—as her sworn sister, this is Oiwai’s vengeance! Prepare yourself!”

“What?”

Iemon tried to cut down Yomoshichi. Then from nowhere emerged another multitude of rats, clinging to Iemon's swinging sword. In that moment Iemon dropped his sword. There Yomoshichi, "You!" With that he brought his sword down diagonally from the shoulder. Iemon's body, dyed crimson, collapsed onto the snow.