Pathway to Japanese Literature

Waterfall and Pond

“What beautiful water.”

And so Tomekichi—who had just moved into Ueboku’s house a few days prior—remarked to his master Ueboku while gazing at the pond water.

“This here’s my gold vault.”

Sitting on a rock with his pipe clenched between his teeth, Ueboku—who had also been gazing at the pond water—made that particular smile known as a knowing laugh, but—

“It’s thanks to this water that the plants here thrive.”

“It looks as if jewels were dissolved in it.”
“Should I call it alum water or gold water?”

“Well, call it gold water then.”

“The waterfall is magnificent too.”
“First off, it’s too wide.”

“It’s modeled after Hakone’s Shiraito Falls, you know.”

On the opposite shore of the considerably large pond, natural stones had been stacked into a rock formation roughly two ken (~3.6m) wide and four ken (~7.2m) high, from which a waterfall matching its width was sent cascading down. A mist-like spray rose from the plunge pool below, yet the pond water lay perfectly still, stained a deep hydrangea-blue hue as if sediment had settled within it.
Tomekichi gazed at the waterfall with an inquisitive look, but—

“But you know, Master, given how this garden’s laid out, isn’t that waterfall just a bit too wide?”

“Don’t waste your breath.”

With that, Ueboku made a displeased face,

“Truth is, I can’t stand the look in your eyes.”

“Why?”

“It’s because you’ve got that damn look in your eyes—like if you want women, you want money too.”

“Right, right.
“…Spot on.”
“But you know, Master—what’s the use of holding gold in times like these?”

“Why’s that?”

“Deserting samurai could come, call it military funds, and make off with it all, couldn’t they?”
“...Since you’re known as a rich man, Master—you’d better handle that part real clever-like.…”

“Shut up.”
“Put your back into the work!”

The sound of a fierce argument was heard, the clang of swords resounded, followed by a woman’s scream—all on this very night.

Okita Sōji grabbed the sword by his pillow, flung off the bedding, raised his illness-thoroughly-weakened body to his feet, stepped out to the veranda, and quietly opened the storm shutters to peer outside.
Beyond the garden—where potted magnolias and maples stood captive in forest-like profusion—lay a thoroughfare where several men clashed blades.
In a breath, one fell slain. The tall broad-shouldered swordsman who had struck the blow fled rightward—pursued moments later by figures seen running through the mist.
Silence reclaimed the night.

“That’s ronin at each other’s throats.”

Sōji muttered and tried to close the storm shutters. Then from underfoot—

“Please...”

A woman’s voice came.
Startled, Sōji looked down at his feet.
Huddled against the veranda, a woman was crouching.

“Who are you?”

“Y-yes, I’m merely a passerby… caught in an unexpected sword fight… I took refuge here… I beg of you… please hide me for just a little while…”

“Hmm… But it seems the fighting has already ended…”

“No… They’re still out there… I’m so frightened… so frightened…”

“I see. Then...”

With that, Sōji shifted aside to make space.

The two entered the room.
When she saw the bedding laid out and medicinal powders and decoctions placed by the pillow, the woman briefly furrowed her brow—but as Sōji collapsed onto the futon and was racked by violent coughs, she immediately moved behind him and began rubbing his back.

“I am unworthy of such kindness.”

“No.”

In the lamplight, Sōji’s complexion appeared less pale than clay-gray.
Yet even now—having once been praised alongside Hijikata Toshizō as one of the Shinsengumi’s great beauties—his emaciation had instead taken on the allure of a withering flower petal.
Moreover, at just twenty-six years old, he still retained a youthful innocence about him—no trace remained of the fierce visage he had shown during the Ikedaya raid, when he had cut down over a dozen men even while coughing up blood and intermittently losing consciousness.

The woman stroked his back while gazing at Sōji’s profile over her shoulder.
Her eyebrows were round and gentle—but her eyes nose mouth all large—a strikingly noticeable beautiful woman.
Yet why did those eyes now glint with razor-sharp keenness?
Eventually Sōji was laid upon bedding while being nursed by her.
She drew quilt-collar up beneath his doll-like chin peeking from fabric folds—sat watching by pillowside.
There she remained—listening through shutters—to Keiō Four’s February nightwind stirring Sendagaya gardener Ueboku’s nursery plants—whispering spring.

People of the Dream

“Ochiyo!”

Suddenly, Sōji—who should have been asleep—shouted.
The woman, as if startled, extended her slender neck and peered into the man’s face.

“Ochiyo, stay well! Stay well for me!”

And again, Sōji shouted.
But then, labored breathing escaped.
They were words spoken in sleep.
The woman smirked coldly.
From far away, the sound of an alarm bell came.
It might have been runaway ronin who set the fire.
The woman slowly, nervously looked around the room, then slipped her hand into her pocket.
Something resembling the pommel of a dagger peeked out from between the light-blue half-collar.

“Forgive me, Saegusa Einosuke!”

And again, the sleeping Sōji shouted.

"It was an order—that doesn't make it right."

The woman fixed her eyes, hunched her shoulders, opened her mouth vacantly, and stared at Sōji.

"He’s apologizing… Then there must be a reason… Even if not—looking at this childlike, adorable face…"

Still she kept watching over Sōji’s sleeping face.

Several days had passed.

Orikure—she was a woman hidden by Okita Sōji—was speaking with Ueboku’s craftsman Tomekichi in Ueboku’s garden.

“Pruning really is difficult, isn’t it?”

“That’s… you…”

“You handle the shears quite skillfully.”

“This is how I make a living, you know.”

“You’ve put in quite the years of service, haven’t you?”

“Yep.”

The magnolia held its large blooms aloft toward the sky; the crabapple flowers inlaid their alluring hues—likened to a tormented beauty—amidst the white magnolia blossoms; moss-covered stones lay scattered among the flowering trees; and a wren, having slipped in unnoticed, crept furtively around tree roots and the bases of rocks.
And through the trees, that pond and waterfall were holding vast quantities of water and then releasing it.

The bloody events—the Tokugawa shogunate’s defeat at Toba-Fushimi and their confinement in Edo Castle; the Shōgitai barricading themselves within Ueno’s grounds; the Satsuma-Chōshū forces advancing along the Tōkaidō toward Edo under Prince Arisugawa as Commander-in-Chief of the Eastern Expedition and Saigō Takamori as Chief of Staff—all felt as distant as someone else’s affairs here in Ueboku’s garden, so quiet was its desolate tranquility.

“Sis, you’re working hard.”

Tomekichi, wearing a marked happi coat and a front-tied headband, snipped a pine branch with his shears and said,

Orikure was vigorously scratching the roots of her hair with a hairpin, but
“What?”
“You tend to Master Okita every day…”
“He’s life’s savior, you see.”

“Well, now…”
“If someone hadn’t sheltered me that night, I might’ve been killed in the crossfire of that sword fight.”
“Well, now…”
“And Master Okita is such a lovely person, you know.”
“Heh, heh. That’s more like your true feelings.”

“That might be.”

“Someone like me’s nothing special.”

“Just a scrap of wood.”

*Snip!*
And Tomekichi, in frustration, ended up cutting a rather important branch that didn’t need to be cut,

“Heh, heh. A scrap of wood, am I? ...Well, went and cut a scrap of wood—the master’s gonna chew me out for this.”
“...Well, let’s set all that aside for now. Instead of calling me a scrap of wood, how about... you give this Tomekichi here a...”

Orikure did not reply, peering through the trees as she gazed toward the detached cottage.

At that detached cottage, Okita Sōji and Kondō Isami were talking.

Because Isami had come to visit, Orikure had withdrawn from the room.

Isami's Persuasion

Into this detached cottage too, the afternoon spring sun streamed in, casting long shadows of the pillars across the tatami mats.

“Itagaki Taisuke has become staff officer and Iwakura Tomosada Governor-General—they lead three thousand soldiers from Tosa, Inaba, and Satsuma provinces with twenty cannons, calling themselves the Tōsandō Army. They’ve entered Suwa via Kisoji, aim to attack Kōfu, subdue Lord Satō Suruganokami—castellan of Kōfu Castle—and seize the fortress.”
“Thus we of the Shinsengumi have renamed ourselves the Kōshū Pacification Force, been officially appointed by the shogunate, tasked with aiding Lord Suruganokami and defending Kōfu Castle, and are to depart imminently, but…”

Isami—his complexion swarthy, eyes small and sharp, mouth disproportionately large, scant hair tied in a chonmage topknot—had spoken in one breath while basking in sunlight that streamed over half the room, his figure wearing white hakama trousers and a black family-crested haori coat. But he abruptly fell silent and looked at Sōji with a perplexed expression.

Sōji leaned back against the stacked bedding behind him, his anxious eyes darting between the camellias Orikure had brought—still unarranged in a vase on the veranda—and a butterfly that had fluttered in to perch on the edge of a transom plaque.

“Master, I will of course be joining the campaign... won’t I? When will you depart?”

“You must want to go as well, but with that body of yours... Thus it has been decided we must ask for your forbearance this time—which is why I have come to persuade you—not that battles are limited to this occasion; there will be countless more hereafter. Moreover, this battle in particular is certain to end in our victory—thus even without relying on a swordsmanship genius such as yourself... Though mind you, should we succeed through our own strength in defending Kōfu Castle, there exists a most gracious indication from the shogunate of immense rewards.”
“I and Hijikata are to be appointed as daimyo.”
“Therefore you must wish to join—or rather... even without joining this campaign, given your past achievements alone you could assuredly become a daimyo of ten or twenty thousand koku. I myself shall recommend you; never would I allow your merits to go unrecognized.”

“So just this once, abandon your hopes... Moreover, even if you don’t join the campaign, your name will remain listed in the Pacification Force.”

“No, Master, my body is fine.”
“No… It’s not that I want to become a daimyo or receive rewards.”
“...I simply want to wield my sword.”
“...Therefore I earnestly beg you—let me join the campaign.”
“Moreover, I believe our opponents this time will put up fierce resistance.”
“...Moreover, the Shinsengumi’s numbers are few... You see, Master—the Shinsengumi should be a small force.”
“When we were in Kyoto, we had over two hundred members.”
“That became forty-five after the two-day battle at Toba-Fushimi—and now that we’ve returned to Edo, barely nineteen remain...”

“No, no.”

And Isami busily waved his hand.

“Well now, this time, thanks to Dr. Matsumoto’s efforts in recruiting troops, we’ve gathered as many as two hundred men. All are loyal and devoted masters of swordsmanship... Moreover, with the 5,000 ryō in military funds granted by Lord Katsura Awa-no-kami, we’ve purchased rifles and cannons from arms dealer Ōshimaya Zenjūrō—every last member of the Pacification Force now carries firearms. You can rest assured... Not only that—Lord Suruganokami is a staunch supporter of the shogunate, and the castle garrison numbers many... We lack neither numbers nor weapons... So you must rest fully here...”

“Master, my illness is nothing at all.”

“That is not the case.
“Dr. Matsumoto also said...”

“Dr. Matsumoto…”

“That’s right—Dr. Matsumoto Ryōjun has stated it.
‘Okita alone must not be permitted to join the campaign.’”

“...”

“You owe Dr. Matsumoto an immeasurable debt of care.”

“I remain under his care even now.”

“Dr. Matsumoto—not merely a peerless physician of the shogunate’s inner court, but a man of valor bearing the makings of a great leader—has declared it so.”
“You cannot gainsay this.”

“Yes.”

Sōji remained silent and looked down.

A Figure from Memory

It could be said that Sōji was surviving today thanks to Ryōjun’s nursing.

Initially, Sōji had been placed in a German-run hospital in Yokohama alongside other injured Shinsengumi members and made to undergo treatment, but Ryōjun—
“Okita is not injured but ill.”

Saying this, he had brought Sōji to his own residence in Asakusa Imado and treated him, but—

"This disease—tuberculosis—won’t be cured in these stuffy downtown hospital rooms without sunlight."

Having declared this, he moved Sōji to Ueboku’s detached residence in Sendagaya, had medicines delivered from his own stores, and at times came personally to examine him—sparing no effort in his ministrations.
To this Ryōjun,

"You must not join the Kōshū campaign."

Faced with these words, Sōji found himself unable to refuse—both by duty and by human feeling.

When he saw Sōji abandon the campaign, Isami spoke with apparent sympathy.

“Instead, I’ll cut down those Tosa and Satsuma scum with this sword—enough for your share too.”

Having said this, he tapped the hilt of the Munetada blade—a sword he’d had a swordsmith procure under the pretense of it being Kotetsu—to demonstrate its quality.
Then Sōji instead spoke anxiously.

“But Master, in the battles to come, swords won’t suffice.”
“Firearms—projectile weapons—are essential.”
“...Since you were injured and did not participate in the battles at Toba-Fushimi, Master, you may not understand—but we recruits... no, we of the Shinsengumi suffered terribly when overwhelmed by those Satsuma-Chōshū bastards’ elite cannons and rifles...”

That night, under the lamplight, Sōji and Orikure were talking quietly.
Perhaps because he had abandoned joining the campaign, Sōji’s demeanor had grown unexpectedly composed, his countenance even serene.

“On the night you concealed me, Master—while you slept—you uttered, ‘Ochiyo, stay well… please stay well.’ But who might this Lady Ochiyo be?”

And Orikure asked with feigned nonchalance.

“Did I say such a thing in my sleep?”

And Sōji suddenly flushed, but—

“When I was in Kyoto, there was a girl I was close to... a town doctor’s daughter...”

“Merely close?”

Orikure said in a teasing tone, yet with eyes that smoldered with both allure and accusation as she gazed at Sōji.

Sōji wore an expression of bewilderment verging on panic, but—

“Merely close?… Well… No—but how should I put it… In any case, I’ve only ever known one woman.”

Orikure burst out laughing.

“My, my… At your tender age, only one woman?”
“…But according to rumors, when the Shinsengumi were stationed in Mibu, they were quite active in that regard…”

“No—rather, the others… particularly Master Kondō… and when it comes to Mr. Hijikata, even more so than Master Kondō…”
“……It’s just that I alone was cowardly……”

“Master, who is rumored to have cut down two hundred men by now, speaks of cowardice…”

“No—when it comes to women.”
“When it comes to cutting people down, I am formidable!”

With that, Sōji sharply shrugged his shoulders.
Though his shoulders were thin, when he raised them, a murderous aura indeed erupted.

Orikure seemed to flinch, but—

"The one woman you mentioned must be this Miss Ochiyo, then?"

“Indeed.”

Though he had carelessly said it, Sōji—flustered—

“No—…”

“No—…?”

“Yes—that’s right.”

“Then she must have been quite the exquisite girl.”

“She was.”

Here too, he blurted out with careless honesty, then floundered to retract it—but in his desperation grew recklessly bold,

“Innocent and deeply affectionate…”

“Like a god…”

“Yeah… No—not that much… but kind…”

“And where is she now?”

“It’s over!”

Sōji’s voice as he said this was truly choked.

“It ended… well… but…”

“It was Master Kondō’s order, I suppose.”

“When?”

“On the return to Edo... Off Kishū... Aboard the Fujisan warship... He put it in writing...”

“So it was ‘If that’s how it is…’”

“Yeah.”

“How pitiful.”

“If a stalwart man were to be led astray by a woman’s charms and jeopardize future endeavors—that’s what Master Kondō told me.”

“Miss Ochiyo must have wept bitterly… Eventually, in her reply, she’ll voice her resentment…”

“There was no reply.”

“Well… How should I put this?… Then as for the woman… she doesn’t feel as much as you imagine…”

“Don’t spout nonsense!”

With that, Sōji glared fiercely and bellowed.

“Ochiyo is not that kind of woman!
“Ochiyo is disappointed, yearning, and has fallen ill!”
…That’s what I believe.
…She’s fallen ill… indeed.”

Sōji lowered his eyes to his knees and did not raise his face for some time.
The room was quiet, and—though it was unclear when it had fluttered in—a thumb-sized moth circled around the lantern, the occasional sound of it hitting the paper being the only noise that could be called a sound.
Sōji still did not raise his face.
Orikure watched his demeanor and thought, How naive! How single-minded! Even so—what kind of woman must this Ochiyo be, to be so loved by such a person?… How fortunate!
And along with that, she found herself powerless to stop the surge of jealousy welling up from the depths of her heart.

He had cut down his close friend, but—

“Um,”

After a short pause, Orikure spoke in a probing voice.

"What kind of person was Saegusa Einosuke?"

"What?! Saegusa Einosuke?! How do you know that name?"

With that, Sōji said, as if genuinely startled.

"But you were asleep when you said, 'Forgive me, Saegusa Einosuke... It was orders... Forgive me,' weren't you?"

“Hmm.”

With that, Sōji looked even more surprised,

“Did I say such a thing?”
“Hmm… No—rather, it seems matters lingering in the heart do come out when one falls asleep.”
“…Saegusa Einosuke was my close friend—a fellow Shinsengumi member—but due to circumstances, I was the one who cut him down.”

“Well! Why?… Your close friend, and a fellow Shinsengumi comrade at that?”

“It was Master Kondō’s order…”

“Even Master Kondō would… his own comrades…”

“No—if they violate regulations, whether comrades or members, we must cut them down… Not just Saegusa—countless fellow members have been slain. Even Master Kondō’s predecessor as captain, Serizawa Kamo—though officially, his killer remains unknown—in truth, Mr. Hijikata slit his throat at the Mibu headquarters one midnight under Master Kondō’s orders.” “…But I loathed cutting down Saegusa.” “Einosuke was a fine man—upright in character, handsome… But precisely because of that, he was loved by women, which led him to repeatedly violate regulations, and when it came to the critical Ikedaya raid, he ultimately didn’t participate.” “This was why he had to be cut down, but on top of that, the woman he was infatuated with turned out to be from the enemy—that is, a Chōshū spy, so…”

“Well, a spy?”

“Yes.
So, if our movements were to be completely exposed to the enemy, Master Kondō swallowed his tears and told me to cut him down.
But I said, ‘The one thing I cannot do is cut down Saegusa.
Because he is my close friend… If you absolutely insist on having him cut down, then please order someone else,’ I refused.
Then Master Kondō declared, ‘Only by dying at his close friend’s blade could Saegusa find peace in death.’
So I resigned myself—one night, took him out to Kamo Riverbed, first explained the situation—‘Break it off with that woman. If you just leave her, I’ll somehow intercede with Master Kondō…’ when—”

There, Sōji blinked rapidly.

Orikure swallowed her saliva, but—

“What did he say?”

“He said he couldn’t break it off.”

“…………”

“So I said, ‘Then escape—flee to Edo or wherever, hide yourself.’ When I said that, he retorted, ‘Are you trying to brand me a coward?’… Since there was no other way, I then said, ‘Then cut your belly here—I’ll act as your second.’ To that, he replied, ‘In that case, the duty Master Kondō ordered you to fulfill—to cut me down—wouldn’t be accomplished.’”
“I was perplexed—if I were to cross swords with you, I had no chance of winning, nor did I want to fight. ‘I’ll turn away and walk off,’ I said. ‘Strike me down from behind.’ And I began striding forward.”
“In the moonlight, the riverbed glistened white, I tell you.”
“No matter how I called out to him from behind, he no longer responded… So I… from behind… with a single stroke… his head—!”
“…He let himself be cut down cleanly.”

Orikure, who had been listening with bated breath, thought: So Mr. Einosuke was cut down after reaching an understanding? Then there’s no reason for him to resent Mr. Sōji… she thought, yet tears still flowed from her eyes. Trying to hide her tears, she turned toward the window. Then came the sound of a pebble striking that window. Orikure seemed startled for a moment but,

“It’s stifling in here,”

she murmured as if to herself, stood up, walked to the window, and opened it. Bathed in the haloed moonlight, a tall broad-shouldered man stood outside.

Orikure furtively shook her head, immediately closed the window, and returned to her original seat.

Sōji was looking down.
He seemed to be reminiscing about the unfortunate friend he had cut down.

“Master Okita.”

Orikure gazed at Sōji’s demeanor while he did so—

“How do you regard me?”

“How do you mean?”

“Do you hate me? Or love me?”

“I’m afraid.”

“Scared?”
“Well.”

“I do think you’re kind… but somehow I’m scared!… And besides, there’s Ochiyo…”

“Even though you severed ties with her…”

“I was compelled to... In my heart—”

“In your heart?”

“I consider her my wife.”
“Still... regarding Ms. Orikure, henceforth…”

“Don’t come.”

“My apologies…”

“I shall come.”
“Even should Master Okita detest me... I love you... Such is the nature of this woman called Orikure.”

*Hm?* Orikure pricked up her ears.

The sound of the waterfall falling into the pond had changed its tone.

(It sounds like someone’s being struck by the waterfall.)

Yes, the monotonous sound of water would occasionally falter.

(Strange...)

Longing for her husband,

Orikure left Dr. Matsumoto Ryōjun’s residence in Asakusa Imado with medicine for Sōji a few days later, in the afternoon.
Outside the gate stood an old double-flowered cherry tree, its branches laden with plump clusters of blossoms that seemed heaped like silk tassels.
When Orikure came beneath it,

“Is this the way to Dr. Matsumoto Ryōjun’s residence?”

A woman’s voice spoke.
Looking up, she found a young woman in traveling attire standing before her.

“That is correct.”

Orikure answered.

“I heard that members of the Shinsengumi are staying here…”

“Yes—Master Kondō, Master Hijikata, and the others had been receiving treatment here until recently. They all departed for Kōfu the other day, now reconstituted as the Kōshū Pacification Force.”

“To Kōfu?!
“Then Master Okita too!
“Master Okita Sōji too?!”

Hearing what could only be described as a heartrending cry from the girl, Orikure scrutinized her anew. She was eighteen or nineteen—an oval face framed by a high forehead reminiscent of Mount Fuji—a picture of youthful innocence. Whether from long travel or not, dust had seeped into her Kai silk gaiters.

“Excuse me,” Orikure said.

“And may I ask who you are?”

“Yes, my name is Chiyo. I’ve come from Kyoto to visit Master Okita…”

“Oh, so you’re Ochiyo…”

“You know me?”

“No.”

Orikure hastily denied—This is that Ochiyo woman Master Sōji can’t forget even in his sleep? Master Sōji said you’d be bedridden with lovesickness, but far from lying ill, you’ve pursued him along the Tōkaidō road with more tenacity than Kiyohime herself… Birds of a feather—even as she thought this, waves of jealousy surged within her.

“Yes, Master Okita is also a Shinsengumi member—and an assistant captain at that—so he departed for Kōfu together with Master Kondō and the others.”

Having declared this, she started walking as if to brush Ochiyo aside. However, after walking five or six ken, she grew concerned and looked back. Ochiyo, in a dazed state, could still be seen standing at the gate of the Matsumoto residence. Go ahead and stare all you want, Orikure muttered as she started walking. But still concerned, she looked back once more. The figure of Ochiyo, who looked as though she had withered away in an instant, could be seen leaving the Matsumoto residence and trudging off into the distance. Go back to Kyoto or chase after him to Kōfu—do as you damn please. I’ll tend to Master Sōji with my own hands—that’s how it’ll be, she muttered and quickened her pace.

The distance from Asakusa to Sendagaya was far, and by the time Orikure had returned to the vicinity of Ueboku's house, night had fallen.

“Orikure.”

While calling out, a tall, broad-shouldered man emerged deliberately from the thicket’s shadow at the base of a great enoki tree.

Having apparently recognized the voice,

“Mr. Kajū, huh?”

Having said that, Orikure stopped in her tracks.

“Yeah…Orikure, what’re you dawdlin’ for?”

“No need to rush.”

“You’re too damn slow!”

“So you threw a rock at the window then.”

“Got a problem with that?”

“Things have their proper order.”

“Even falling in love—?”

“What the hell?!”

“What exactly are you?”

“I was asked by Lord Katsura Kogorō of Chōshū…”

“A spy, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“So you got close to Saegusa Einosuke.”

“To gather intel on those Shinsengumi bastards.”

“But you went and fell for Einosuke!”

“Don’t be absurd. …I just pried the Shinsengumi’s secrets from that guy’s lips… At the Ikedaya raid, I was the one who kept him from going.”

“As if that’s any achievement! …That guy was the one who fell for you, dithering around until he missed his chance—that’s all it was.”

“Wasn’t it because of that that Einosuke was killed? …Reducing the Shinsengumi bastards by even one—that’s my achievement.”

“But then you declared you’d kill Okita Sōji, the man who cut down Einosuke.”

“Sōji, who cut down more Chōshū samurai than anyone at Ikedaya… If you kill this guy, there’s a hundred ryō reward—”

“So you went after Sōji for the bounty money?”
“Don’t play noble.”
“That’s my line!”
“You tried to avenge your precious Einosuke—that’s why you targeted him.”
“...Forget that! What’s so special about him that you fell for your mark? Falling in love’s idiotic, and this nursing farce gets us nowhere! ...Orikure—I’m cutting Sōji down tonight!”

Having said this, Kajūrō of Nawate—an informant employed by the Chōshū domain to counter the pro-shogunate informant Meibun Yoshikichi—started walking toward Ueboku.

The Demoness' True Nature

(This man might actually do it.)

Having thought this, Orikure grabbed Kajūrō’s sleeve.

(When it comes to swordsmanship, Master Okita is said to be the best in the Shinsengumi—but with that illness-withered body of his, he’d stand no chance if someone like Kajūrō attacked him.
I won’t let them kill Master Sōji!
…Then I’ll just slaughter this wretch myself!)

Steeling her resolve,

“Mr. Kajū—wait! If you insist so vehemently, I’ll resolve myself to silence Master Okita’s breath tonight.”
“And you’re no different! That night we came here together—when we picked a fight with those wandering ronin and cut one down—after witnessing that, I fled into Ueboku’s garden claiming to escape the crossfire. Master Okita hid me away, and I used that chance to get close to him—all part of our scheme from the start! A plot we crafted together up to that very point! But now if you kill Master Okita and steal the credit, I’ll be left with nothing to show—and you’ll taste bitter regret too. …Come now—let me be the one to finish Master Okita.”
“Then we’ll split the bounty money fifty-fifty.”

This was the scheme of a woman who inspired no dislike.
Kajūrō was a forty-five-year-old man of discretion, but—

“Well, if you’re set on it…”

“Then leave it to me.”
“Then I’ll handle Master Okita in this state tonight…”

With that, she thrust her right hand into her pocket and pulled out her ever-present dagger.

"One fierce thrust!"

With that, she plunged it into Kajūrō’s flank…

“Gah!”

“I’ll kill you!”

With that, she kicked Kajūrō down, pressed her foot against his writhing body, and drove home the final stab.

“Ugh, I’m drenched in blood.”
“Like this, I can’t possibly approach Master Sōji.”

She muttered, then dashed into the garden. Upon reaching the pond’s edge, she began scrubbing her hands and feet.
Suddenly, from within the waterfall, an arm appeared and firmly grabbed Orikure’s wrist.

“So you were after it too.”
“You’ve got quite the eye, Orikure-bō.”

Parting the water, Tomekichi emerged.

“I knew you weren’t just some nobody—so you were after the gold coins in the waterfall basin after all.”
“Same here.”
“The reason I infiltrated Ueboku’s place was ’cause he’s loaded—not just that, but there were rumors he’d been favored by Lord Tokugawa’s high-ranking officials, even gettin’ patronage from some court physician named Matsumoto Ryōjun, and was hidin’ gold entrusted by those folks. Figured I’d swipe it all clean. But that old man Ueboku hid it real clever-like—carved a cave behind the waterfall’s rock formation and stashed it there.”
“With this setup, even if runaway ronin come pillaging or those Satsuma-Chōshū bastards invade Edo and try burning everything down, it’s safe—or so Ueboku thinks. But I’ve been sneaking in here now and then, lifted nearly a thousand ryō in coins by today—bet I’m better at this than him! …Was just thinkin’ that when you showed up.”
“Damn impressive!”
“Sharp eye!”
“I’d already spotted this place as the hiding spot for the gold coins.”
“Alright, here we go. If that’s how it is, let’s team up as partners.”
“…’cause we’re partners now…”

Orikure thought: (So that was how it was—the gold was hidden behind the waterfall? That fool had assumed she came to wash blood from her body? ...Hearing this, she realized she wasn’t entirely free from greed after all—very well then.)

With that familiar dagger—a fierce thrust!

“Ugh—ugh—ugh—”

She rolled Tomekichi’s lifeless body into the pond,

(Since I've killed two people now, there's no way I can stay here any longer. While I'm at it... Master Sōji who won't obey... Then I'll finally claim that bounty money)—

She hurried toward the detached room, quietly slid open the shutters, and entered the chamber.
Sōji, having somewhat recovered his health, lay sleeping with childlike innocence, his beauty—now with a renewed luster—illuminated by the lantern.

Orikure blew out the lantern’s light.

It was done.

The Eastern Army led by Itagaki Taisuke—which had entered Kōfu Castle a day earlier than the Pacification Force—attacked Kondō Isami’s Kōshū Pacification Force near Kōshū with cannons and rifles, then pursued the fleeing troops over Sasago Pass.
It was March 6th.

Having come searching for Okita Sōji, Ochiyo stood in a roadside thicket at the mountain pass, utterly dazed.
From all directions came the sounds of guns and war cries; from valleys, mountain slopes, and woods rose plumes of gunpowder smoke, while rifle bullets struck the trunks and leaves of the grove before her eyes.
And then came figures of Pacification Force members scrambling downward.
The members cried out in unison:

“We can’t win—we can’t win against projectile weapons! Not against elite ones!”

A single soldier, wounded in the shoulder, came stumbling and fleeing.
Ochiyo ran up and asked desperately.

“Master Okita Sōji... did he fall in battle?
...Or…”

“What? Okita Sōji?”

The soldier looked suspiciously at Ochiyo, but—

“No—Okita Sōji…”

But at that moment, a stray bullet pierced the soldier’s chest.
The soldier collapsed.
Ochiyo was stunned, rushed over and tried to tend to him, but he had already died.

(I must confirm Master Sōji’s survival—no matter where.)

And Ochiyo thought—from fatigue and anxiety—in a state where she felt on the verge of fainting.

(Then, standing before Master Sōji, I would tear to shreds the letter of severance he had given me and declare: “No—I am your wife.”)

It was on April 3rd that Ochiyo appeared before the gates of Kondō Isami and his men’s headquarters in Shimousa Nagareyama.
Having heard that Kondō Isami, Hijikata Toshizō, and others had been dispatched to this area by the shogunate under orders to suppress deserters, she had come here believing her lover Sōji was among them.
While she hesitated at the gate for some time, Kondō Isami appeared on horseback from within the compound, accompanied by two attendants.

“Master Kondō!”
Shouting, Ochiyo ran out in front of the horse,
“Master Okita?!”
“Ochiyo?!”
Isami said, sounding utterly astonished.
“Okita? Okita’s in Edo.”
“He’s recuperating in a detached cottage belonging to a gardener named Ueboku in Sendagaya.”
“I would like to hear the details and speak with you, but I have been summoned to appear at the Imperial forces’ encampment in Koshigaya from here on, so I cannot linger in conversation.”
“…You should rest inside the headquarters until I return.”
“There’s Hijikata—an acquaintance—at the headquarters.”

Having said this abruptly, he urged his horse forward.

Around April 11th, when Edo Castle opened and Imperial forces began pouring into the city, Okita Sōji lay on his deathbed.

By the bedside, Ueboku and family members were lined up in complete silence.
The previous night, when Orikure had come and attempted to strike him but had been prevented, he had suffered a massive hemorrhage—this became the catalyst for Sōji’s condition suddenly worsening.
That Kondō Isami had been taken by the Imperial forces from Koshigaya to Itabashi and executed there had also psychologically hastened Sōji’s death.
It was on this day that the unfortunate Ochiyo had finally located Ueboku’s house and come to visit.
Ueboku’s household had known about Ochiyo for some time.
When they realized this, they immediately ushered Ochiyo to Sōji’s bedside.

“Master Okita!”

Ochiyo clung to Sōji—who seemed to have lost his sight—and called into his ear.

“It is Ochiyo!
“It is your wife, Ochiyo—the one who has come from Kyoto!”

It seemed the voice had reached his heart, for Sōji’s gaze came to rest on Ochiyo’s face.

“Ochiyo!… My wife!… That’s right!”

But suddenly, hatred surfaced on his face,

"You damn Orikure—!"

he said.
Those were his final words.

It was on the fifteenth day of the following month that the battle of the Shōgitai in Ueno began.
In their attempt to repay two hundred sixty years of benevolence from the Tokugawa shogunate, the hatamoto warriors fought against the Imperial forces in a battle that defied the proper order of things—yet when viewed through duty and human compassion, it remained a tragically justified conflict.
However, the outcome had long been evident, and there was no doubt about the Shōgitai’s defeat.
The people of Edo, yearning for peace to return even a day sooner, climbed onto rooftops or stood in doorways gazing toward Ueno.
Chōshū troops were assaulting Ueno’s rear from Nezu and Yanaka.
Among the crowd gathered near Gongen Shrine to watch the fighting was Orikure.
Her hair was immaculately arranged, her robes freshly donned.
The dozens of gold coins she had stolen that night—after failing to kill Okita Sōji and diving into the pond’s depths on impulse—still weighed her pockets, lending her an air of tranquil prosperity.
This woman—once a Shimabara courtesan turned Miyagawachō prostitute turned spy, as though driven by primal instinct alone—now seemed to hold neither Saegusa Einosuke nor Okita Sōji in her thoughts as she cast flirtatious glances indiscriminately at young men in the crowd.

But at that moment, from behind—

“This is Orikure.”

Startled by a voice she recognized, she whirled around to look.
Ueboku stood glaring from within the crowd.

The moment she thought "Ah!", a girl came running toward her from beside Ueboku.

“You are Mr. Okita’s enemy!
“…My vengeance!”

“Ochiyo!”

Orikure grasped with both hands the hand of Ochiyo—who had stabbed a dagger into her solar plexus—but,
“Ah... If it’s you killing me... I... can’t hold any grudge, can I?”

With that, she slumped over.

From within Ueno’s grounds, black smoke from the burning temple complex could be seen.
It was also the black smoke signaling the annihilation of the Shōgitai headquarters—the final bastion of the antiquated system known as the shogunate.

“It’s done.”

Ueboku, while tending to Ochiyo, looked up at the black smoke and remarked poignantly.

(Everything was settled here.)