Pathway to Japanese Literature

One

Mr.Yoshida narrated.

Man'en 1 (1860)—the year of the Sakuradamon Incident involving Senior Councilor Ii Naosuke.

On September 24th, around dusk at half-past seven (5:00 PM), two palanquins departed Ōmori on the Tōkaidō highway, heading in the direction of Edo.

At that time, Yokohama sightseeing had become something of a trend.
In Ansei 6 (1859) of last year, Yokohama Port was opened, and what are called foreign residences began to be constructed one after another.
Accompanying this, new towns were opened, brothels were built, and inns were established, so that what had until then been a fishing village with flourishing reed beds transformed in barely over a year into a bustling place astonishing to the eye.
As it was only seven ri from Edo and not particularly far, not only travelers passing through on the Tōkaidō highway but also those who made special trips from Edo to sightsee gradually increased in number.
In every era, trends remain unchanged, and not knowing Yokohama had come to be seen as somewhat shameful.

The passengers in these palanquins now were likewise returning from partaking in the fashionable Yokohama sightseeing.
They were the family of Omiya, a pawnshop in Shiba-Tamachi, where the wife Omi was forty years old this year and the daughter Otsuma was nineteen.
Omiya was an old-established shop in the area. Otsuma had been raised in an ordinary manner and possessed looks above the ordinary, but for a daughter of this era, she remained distant from marriage prospects, having had no suitable proposals by the age of nineteen.
Since there was a younger brother named Yosaburo in the family, Otsuma was in a position where she had to marry into another household no matter what, yet she was still being cared for under her parents’ guardianship.

Among Omiya’s relatives was someone who had started a sake shop in Yokohama that spring. Since they were frequently invited to come sightseeing in Yokohama thereafter, Omi, the wife, resolved to go out. Yosaburo was still sixteen and, being a boy besides, would have plenty of opportunities to go out in the future. Since Otsuma was a woman who would rarely be able to travel once married into another family—and given this might be her last opportunity—they decided on this occasion’s sightseeing trip to take along the elder daughter Otsuma, departing their Tamachi shop early the morning before last with Bunjiro, a young man accompanying them.

As Otsuma was in her nineteenth unlucky year, they first stopped at Kawasaki’s Daishi Temple along the way to pray for protection from misfortune.
Then they visited their relative’s sake shop in Yokohama and spent all of yesterday sightseeing around various spots.
Since their original plan had been to stay two nights in Yokohama and return to Edo on the third day, they toured remaining sights that morning, were escorted by relatives to Kanagawa’s inn, and then Omi and her daughter Otsuma boarded the palanquin.
Bunjiro readied his footwear and followed on foot.

When they changed palanquins at Kawasaki’s post station and approached Ōmori, Omi bought local specialties like straw crafts, saying she would give them as souvenirs to the neighborhood children. By the time the two palanquins—delayed by such matters—departed Ōmori and drew near Suzugamori, the ninth-month sun under the old lunar calendar already hung low on the horizon. The evening breeze from the coast carried a biting chill that seeped into their bones.

“Granny, where are you headed?” Bunjiro asked, looking back.
Bunjiro had been in service at Omiya since the spring of his eleventh year and was now a fine young man of twenty-three.

Around the time the party’s palanquins departed Ōmori, an old woman—likely in her sixties and perhaps nearing seventy—had been following them on foot without a cane.
That alone would not have been particularly noteworthy, but the old woman was hurrying as if trying not to fall behind the palanquins.

The palanquin was being carried by two men. Bunjiro, their attendant, was also a spirited young man. From the path where they quickened their pace, it seemed impossible for the old woman nearing seventy to keep up without falling behind. Indeed, without a cane, she walked on—bent at the waist, panting heavily, staggering perilously as though she might collapse at any moment.

To Bunjiro’s eyes, that sight seemed pitiable. At the same time, he found it strangely mysterious. As dusk approached and he considered that this old woman might be following them out of anxiety about walking alone, he turned back to ask her destination.

“Yes.”
“I’m going to Samezu.”

“Samezu?”
“Then it’s just ahead.”

“Even so… I’m not as young as I used to be,” gasped the old woman.

“You don’t have a cane?”

“Since I’m carrying this bundle… thought it’d get in the way…”

He carried a small light-yellow furoshiki bundle.

As their conversation continued, the dusk deepened. The palanquin bearers halted their palanquins midway to light the lanterns with candles.
While waiting for this, Bunjiro asked again.

“Even so, why are you chasing after us? Is it because you’re lonely traveling alone?”

“Yes.”
“Once night falls, this area becomes unsafe.”
“I’m carrying something rather important, so…”

“Must be something really important, huh?” Bunjiro turned his gaze to the light-yellow furoshiki bundle.

“Yes.”

Illuminated by the palanquin bearers’ lantern light, the old woman was a fair-skinned, refined figure reminiscent of her younger days. Although her garments were plain cotton, her attire was not unsightly.

“But with those old legs of yours, trying to keep up with our palanquin is impossible. You’ll hurt yourself if you fall.”

As he spoke, the palanquin began moving again, so Bunjiro started walking alongside it while the old woman still continued to follow them.
Around the time they had passed halfway along Suzugamori’s path, the old woman tripped, staggered, and collapsed still clutching her bundle.

“Look there! Didn’t I tell you?”
“That’s exactly why I said it’s dangerous!”

When Bunjiro turned back to help the old woman up, she was gasping without responding.
Having collapsed from exhaustion, she seemed to have no strength left to rise.

“This is troublesome,” Bunjiro clicked his tongue.

Inside the palanquin, Omi and her daughter had been listening to this exchange all along, but now that matters had reached this point, they could no longer turn a deaf ear. Omi had the palanquin halted and raised its curtain.

“Can’t that old woman get up?”

“She’s out of breath and can’t seem to get up,” Bunjiro replied.

Otsuma also raised the palanquin’s lowered curtain and peered out.

“So she’s going all the way to Samezu.”
“Then why don’t we let her ride in my palanquin to get there?”

“That would be fine to do but…” said Mother.
“Then I will get off.”

“No，Mother,” she replied firmly yet gently.
“I will get down.”
“I’d like to walk for a while.”

For those unaccustomed to travel，remaining long in a palanquin proved wearisome.
Since young Miss’s wish seemed reasonable enough，her mother did not press further opposition.

When Otsuma put on her sandals and stepped out, in her place, the old woman was helped by Bunjiro and the palanquin bearers to board. Since they had Otsuma walking, they couldn’t quicken the palanquin’s pace, so by the time they reached the inn at Samezu, the day had completely ended.

“Thank you very much. Thanks to you, I’ve been greatly helped.”

The old woman who had exited the palanquin repeatedly expressed her gratitude and parted ways with Omimiya’s group. Omi and her daughter thought they had shown kindness to the elderly and performed a good deed. Moreover, this was but a fleeting moment—for Otsuma, who had exchanged places with the old woman and boarded the palanquin, let out a sudden cry.

“Oh! She left something behind…”

The old woman had left behind the furoshiki bundle containing what she had called an important item.
Bunjiro and the palanquin bearers frantically looked around, but her figure was nowhere to be found in the vicinity.
They called out “Granny! Granny!” aimlessly, but no answering voice could be heard from anywhere.

“For all her talk about it being so important, she’s awfully careless for an old woman.”

While muttering complaints, Bunjiro borrowed the palanquin bearers’ lantern and tried opening the furoshiki.
Mixed with a kind of curiosity, Otsuma also peered.
Omi also raised the lowered curtain.

“Ah!”

A strange scream that blended shock and terror burst from the group’s mouths.
The item wrapped in the furoshiki was a new white burial shroud.

II

Why had that old woman been carrying such a thing? Depending on how one considered it, perhaps it wasn’t something to be so suspicious of after all. Perhaps there had been a death in her family or among her acquaintances, and she might have been on her way to deliver the burial shroud. Perhaps her hurrying along the road despite her age had been for that very reason. In her anxious haste, she may have left it behind in the palanquin and departed.

If that were the case, she would surely come rushing back in alarm. Omimiya was located in Shiba no Tamachi, close to Takanawa, so it wasn’t far from there either. There, Bunjiro decided to wait for a while with the troublesome forgotten item in hand, while Omi and her daughter’s palanquin returned straight to Edo.

Upon returning to their shop, the mother and daughter first breathed a sigh of relief. Since it wasn’t something to hide, Omi whispered to her husband about the old woman and the matter of the burial shroud, whereupon Yobei furrowed his brows. Yobei’s assessment of this matter also largely amounted to the same conjectures mentioned earlier, but given that it was no ordinary item after all, it cast a dark shadow over people’s hearts. Particularly in that era, people harbored such a strong abhorrence toward such matters that they all deemed it inauspicious. And so, it was feared as if it were some ominous omen.

Night deepened, and Bunjiro returned.
He wandered around the inn at Samezu and waited for what seemed like an hour, but since the old woman never returned, he had no choice but to come back carrying that furoshiki bundle.

“If such a thing becomes known in the neighborhood, there will be troublesome rumors.”
“Get rid of it without anyone knowing,” Yobei said.

Bunjiro carried out the bundle once more and, taking advantage of the dead of night, threw it into the sea at Takanawa.
The only ones who knew about this were Yobei, his wife, and Otsuma; even their son Yosaburo and the other servants remained entirely unaware of the secret.

The tales of their Yokohama sightseeing held no joy, and Omi and her daughter spent several days in a somber mood. Especially for Otsuma, who felt as though she had received an ill-omened gift from that suspicious old woman, the Yokohama trip now filled her with regret. She even came to resent the Daishi Temple. If only she hadn’t shown that half-hearted kindness—if only they had simply abandoned the old woman and left her behind—she now thought. Seeing his wife and daughter’s gloomy expressions, Yobei admonished them in a scolding manner.

“There’s no sense stewing over what’s done and gone.”
“They say fortune flips itself upside-down—might be we’ll get blessed instead of cursed.”
“Ain’t it true folks cheer when you dream of blade cuts, saying coins’ll come raining?”

Whether Yobei had truly meant those words or merely offered temporary comfort remained unclear, but mysteriously, they proved accurate—truly, an auspicious event arrived. Within less than ten days, a splendid marriage proposal was made to Otsuma, who had until then been distant from such matters.

In Yodobashi’s Kashiwagi Naruko-chō, there existed an old establishment called Inoya.
Though named Inoya—literally “Well Shop”—it dealt not in well-digging but in sake.
Their ancestors had been a ronin of the Odawara Hojo clan known as Ino-something, and precisely because they boasted of being an old family that had endured here for two hundred forty to fifty years, their shop stood large, their trade extensive, with vast lands and fields besides—in the Yodobashi district, they were celebrated as one of the top two fortunes.
When a marriage proposal to this Inoya came suddenly, even the Omimiya household found it somewhat unexpected.
Moreover, since the matchmaker standing witness was none other than the proprietor of Manya—a sake shop before Yotsuya Ōkido and Omi’s uncle—and since this did not appear to be the insincere sort of matchmaking bandied about in society, the Omimiya couple felt their resolve waver.
They thought that if their daughter—who had remained unwed until nineteen—could become bride to such an eminent house, it would indeed be fortune beyond measure.
Of course, Otsuma herself raised no objection.

At the beginning of October, the formal meeting between both parties was conducted as per custom, and this marriage proposal was happily settled.
However, since Otsuma was in her nineteenth year—an unlucky year—the bridal procession was set for the following spring, with the exchange of betrothal gifts to be completed within the current year.
Omimiya was a family of considerable means, but they could not compare to Inoya.
Inoya was a name known by many even in the lower town, so Otsuma was envied for her good fortune.

“How about that! The burial shroud has transformed into a bridal garment. See? When I said things turn out opposite, I wasn’t lying.” Yobei laughed boastfully.

It was indeed the complete opposite.
That the suspicious old woman had left behind a burial shroud—could this have been an omen for such an auspicious event? Omi and Otsuma now found it strange, as if realizing it only belatedly. Yet in any case, struck by this unexpected good fortune, the Omimiya household bustled as though an untimely spring had arrived.
Since the other party was a prominent family, Otsuma’s bridal preparations could not be handled in a routine manner.
Knowing this full well, Yobei and his wife busily spent the short winter days of that time on all manner of preparations.

By November, the exchange of betrothal gifts had been completed, and the bridal procession was finally set for after the twentieth day of the New Year.

It was the eighteenth day of that December.
Yobei went out to Asakusa Kannon’s year-end market as was his annual custom, and during his absence, Sannosuke came to pay his year-end respects.
Sannosuke was Yobei’s younger brother and had married into a family of the same trade—a shop called Mikawaya in Yoyogi Town.
Even though his elder brother was away, Sannosuke was ushered into the inner parlor and whispered to Omi.

“Sis.”
“I know this is hardly the time for such talk, given the auspicious occasion… but I’ve heard some rather troubling things.”
“What do you mean by ‘something strange’…?”

“About the Inoya household…” Sannosuke lowered his voice even further. “They say there are strange rumors about that household… I don’t know how many generations back it was, but a young apprentice working at Inoya went missing. It’s unclear whether someone killed him, he took his own life, or perhaps even ran away—no one knows anything for certain. But then the boy’s grandmother stormed into Inoya and demanded they return her precious grandson. Inoya claimed they didn’t know. Moreover, that grandmother persistently barged in every day, insisting they return her grandson no matter what. When even Inoya finally lost patience and ordered their servants to forcibly drag her out, the old woman glared at Inoya’s shop and said, ‘Mark my words—this household won’t last two generations…’ After saying that and leaving, she never came again.”

“When did that happen?” Omi asked uneasily.
The image of the old woman with the burial shroud had surfaced before her eyes.

“As I said earlier—I don’t know how many generations back—but it’s from the distant past. Six or seven generations have passed since then.”

“Then her threat about ‘not allowing two generations’ was a lie.” Omi spoke with tentative relief.

“Yet no biological line has lasted two generations.”
“The Inoya house knows no child-rearing.”
“Even when children are born, they all die without fail—so they always have an adopted heir succeed.”
“That’s why Inoya remains splendidly prosperous as you see, yet every successor has been an outsider. Not once has their bloodline endured two generations straight.”

“Then why don’t they take an adopted heir from their own relatives? If they did that, the bloodline shouldn’t be cut off, yet…”

“That’s still not allowed,” Sannosuke further explained. “Because adopted heirs taken from relatives die just like their own biological children do, they inevitably end up having someone completely unrelated succeed them—or so it’s said.”

“That’s strange… isn’t it?”

“That’s strange.”

“Is it that old woman who’s cursing them?”

“Well, that’s the rumor going around.”

Saying such things might dampen the hard-won marriage proposal, so he thought perhaps he should just keep silent; but upon reconsidering, it also seemed wrong to feign ignorance while knowing the truth. At any rate, since he had now brought this much to their attention, he must not be thought ill of—with this apology, Sannosuke took his leave.

Just as Sannosuke left, Yobei returned home. When Omi immediately told him of the matter, Yobei furrowed his brows.
Since Yodobashi and Shiba were far apart, Yobei and his wife had been entirely unaware of Inoya harboring such a secret.
Though merely hearing Sannosuke’s account made the old woman’s single-minded resentment toward Inoya seem implausible, there was no point in debating it now.
At any rate, whether to send their precious daughter to such an accursed household had become the urgent matter at hand.

“I wonder if Uncle from Manya doesn’t know about such things,” Omi said doubtfully.

“That being said, Sannosuke wouldn’t go so far as to tell lies.”
“This isn’t like other matters,” Yobei said, though he himself remained half-convinced.

Manya was Omi’s uncle.
Sannosuke was Yobei’s younger brother.
For Omi, it was only natural to trust her uncle; for Yobei, his brother. Yet this divergence in loyalties cast a faint discord between them—though not enough to strain their marriage beyond comfort.
To settle these doubts, Yobei went to question his brother again for details, while Omi resolved to confront her uncle for confirmation—and so at dawn the next day, the couple ascended toward Yamate.

The two parted ways along the road, and Yobei went to Mikawaya in Yoyogi.
Omi visited Manya at Ōkido-mae.
Uncle from Manya faced Omi’s pressing questions and showed a deeply troubled expression, but finally let out a sigh and began to speak.

“Now that you all know about it, there’s no use hiding it anymore. The truth is, such rumors do exist about Inoya.”
“If I were to say that, you might resent me for acting as a go-between to such a household—but there is a painful reason for it.”

Due to a business mishap, Uncle’s family fortune had declined over the past two or three years, resulting in significant debt owed to Inoya, who were in the same trade. In fact, without receiving substantial assistance from Inoya even by this year’s end, they would be unable to make it through the year safely. If by any chance this marriage proposal were to fall through, I would not only be unable to face Inoya. If Inoya were to abandon us there, the Manya shop—that had endured for generations—would have no choice but to close its doors, unable to weather this year-end. With tears pooling in his aged eyes, the uncle pleaded for her to understand his position and show mercy.

With this, all became clear.
Due to the vile rumors circulating, no brides would come even to the esteemed Inoya household.
To marry off his niece’s daughter to them—thereby settling his debts and securing business advantages—this had been Uncle from Manya’s true design.
In essence, he had schemed to use Omiya’s daughter as a sacrificial lamb for his own benefit.
Learning this, Omi burned with rage.
She despised her uncle for this heartless stratagem.
Moreover, breaking off this engagement would mean Manya’s shop facing ruin.
Not just Uncle—even Aunt joined in pleading tearfully.

When it came to this, Omi could no longer simply go on hating her uncle—such was the frailty of a woman’s heart. In the end, after consulting with her husband, she returned. Before long, Yobei too returned and said that Sannosuke’s story appeared to hold truth.

There was neither lie nor truth—everything had been confessed by the uncle.
There, the couple put their heads together and turned their time to secret discussions, but if they were to stubbornly persist in this situation and stand idly by while letting Manya’s shop collapse, it would be unbearable as relatives.
That was the weakness of human sentiment in this era.
What made matters even worse was that Otsuma’s impending marriage was already known throughout the entire neighborhood.
Calling off the engagement now would create an unfavorable impression in society.
Moreover, there was no denying the fear that this might create various obstacles, potentially condemning their already marriage-challenged daughter to a life as damaged goods.

“There’s nothing more to be done.”
“Explain the circumstances thoroughly to Otsuma and let her decide.”
“If she consents, we’ll proceed; if she refuses, we’ll decline.”
“There’s no alternative,” Yobei said.

Omi agreed to this and promptly called Otsuma to discuss the matter, whereupon she unexpectedly consented compliantly.

“When we returned from Yokohama, that old woman left the burial shroud behind—this must have been fate binding us to this outcome.”
“With the matchmaking settled and betrothal gifts already exchanged, I shall resolutely enter Inoya’s household.”

III

Since the person in question had made a resolute decision, her parents could no longer find means to object. Rather than resisting, they found themselves seemingly encouraged by their own child’s resolve and proceeded with the marriage arrangements without hesitation. The uncle and aunt from Manya once again wept tears of joy.

A year passed in a blur of anticipation and denial, and January 22nd arrived with swift finality.

From the very beginning of early spring that year, there was much rain, and cold days persisted.

After all，Omimiya was an old established family in the area，so colleagues in the trade as well as townspeople had come to offer congratulations，and the place had been crowded since two or three days prior.
On the eve of her bridal procession，Otsuma called Bunjiro and whispered：

“Do you remember whereabouts along the coast we floated that burial shroud last year?”
“Could you quietly take me there tonight?”

Bunjiro felt uneasy for some reason；thus，while giving his consent on the spot for the time being，he secretly reported it to Omi—and so he too began to feel a certain apprehension.
Though they thought it unlikely，as tonight—the very eve of tomorrow—drew near，they feared that if by any chance she were to throw herself into the sea，it would be disastrous.

“What on earth are you going to the seaside for?” Omi demanded of her daughter in a reproachful tone.

“I just want to go and see for a bit. I will never do anything to cause you worry.”

“In that case, I’ll go with you. Is that all right?”

It had been drizzling since morning that day too, but around six in the evening, it stopped.
Because the shop entrance saw many comings and goings, Omi and her child slipped out through the back gate, while Bunjiro, who had been waiting at the alley entrance, led the way ahead of them.

The coast of Takanawa lay just ahead.

The time was nearing the fifth hour (around 8 PM), and in the vast sky where clouds had parted, golden stars twinkled sparsely.
The seaside teahouse had long since closed its shutters.
With society growing increasingly unsettled around this time and rumors of street killings circulating, even though night had barely fallen, there were few passersby along this stretch of coast.
The lively strains of the Shinagawa Melody could not be heard.

The three stood at the coast and gazed at the dark sea. Though Bunjiro couldn’t recall precisely, he held up a lantern to indicate that it was likely around this area, whereupon Otsuma bent down as if to kneel and pressed her hands together.
She seemed to be praying for something toward the sea.
As Omi and Bunjiro kept their eyes fixed, vigilantly observing her every move, Otsuma remained completely still for some time.
A cold night wind blew past the temples of the three.

The sound of the sea shaking the darkness resounded with a terrible roar, and the spray of waves shattering against the stone wall below appeared faintly white even to night-adjusted eyes. As if staring at the waves, Otsuma raised her head—then immediately uttered a hushed cry.

“Oh—there it is…”

Bunjiro instinctively thrust the lantern forward. Omi peered as well. In the faint light of the lantern and the sea’s glow, they spotted something white drifting upon the waves—and gasped. For it seemed to them this was none other than that burial shroud. Omi felt an indescribable terror and silently tugged at Bunjiro’s sleeve. He too swung the lantern several times to illuminate the thing’s true form, but the white shadow no longer resurfaced.

Otsuma pressed her hands together again toward the sea.

The next day, Otsuma was auspiciously delivered to Inoya.
The young master of Inoya proved indeed to be an adopted heir, his name being Heizou.
As the previous master and his wife had successively passed away two or three years earlier, the new bride encountered no vexations whatsoever.
The couple’s rapport remained harmonious.

“If nothing happens now, there would be nothing to complain about,” Omi whispered to her husband.

Yobei too secretly prayed for her safety.
In February of that year, the era name was changed to Bunkyū.

Since the Sakuradamon Incident of the previous year, society had shown increasingly turbulent conditions, yet the Omimiya family remained unaffected and Inoya likewise suffered no disturbances; thus they spent a year there, and at the end of that year, Otsuma became pregnant.

While under normal circumstances it would be only natural to celebrate such joyous news, upon hearing it, the Omimiya couple found themselves gripped by a kind of unease.
An ominous premonition darkened their hearts.
Omi could not afford to spend her days in peaceful idleness, looking forward to seeing her first grandchild’s face as most mothers would.
She visited the shrines and temples she usually frequented, praying not only for her daughter’s safe delivery but also earnestly wishing for the health and longevity of her unborn grandchild.

When the year turned to Bunkyū 2 and September—Otsuma’s due month—arrived, Omi began making daily pilgrimages to shrines and temples.
Yobei too was drawn in and began making shrine pilgrimages.
The master of Inoya also did not neglect his devotion to the gods and buddhas, and even made a special pilgrimage to Naritasan Temple in Shimousa to have a goma ritual performed.
Precious protective talismans of various kinds were piled up on the household altars.

On September 23rd, a messenger from Otsuma arrived from Yodobashi requesting Mother come immediately as she wished to see her briefly. Wondering if labor had perhaps begun, Omi promptly had a palanquin rushed over—yet Otsuma’s condition remained entirely unchanged.
She—whose morning sickness had been mild—was so healthy she hardly appeared to be a woman in her final month of pregnancy.
Her complexion glowed.

“How about it—is it about to come soon?” Omi asked first.

“The doctor and the midwife both say it will likely be around the end of this month, but I believe it will surely be tomorrow,” Otsuma stated with conviction.

“But both the doctor and the midwife say that, so why are you alone insisting it will be tomorrow?”

“Yes, it’s tomorrow.”
“It will surely be tomorrow at dusk.”

“Tomorrow at dusk…”
“Have you forgotten what happened two years ago, Mother?”
“Tomorrow is September 24th.”

September 24th—it was dusk when two palanquins passed through Suzugamori on their return from sightseeing in Yokohama.
When that was mentioned, Omi felt a sense of dread.

“But Mother, please rest assured. Whether it be a boy or a girl, I will surely protect the child I have borne,” Otsuma declared with growing confidence.

Thinking it unwise to argue back and forth with a pregnant woman, Omi remained silent and listened.
However, feeling somehow uneasy, she whispered to her son-in-law Heizou, and Heizou nodded uneasily.

“In truth, she told me the same thing—even though the doctor and midwife say it will be around the end of the month, the fact that she stubbornly insists it will be tomorrow at dusk strikes me as rather odd…”

“Hmm, that’s true…”

Because the September 24th incident lingered in her heart’s depths, Omi decided to stay overnight at Inoya that evening and wait for tomorrow’s dusk.
The following 24th dawned brightly clear from morning, an autumn wind sweeping across the high sky.
The cries of migratory birds could be heard.

Otsuma showed no particular changes during the day either, but as the so-called bucket-drop dusk deepened into night—around when lamps were lit in the spacious residence—she suddenly went into labor and calmly delivered a baby boy.
The prophecy had struck true with chilling precision, leaving everyone astonished.

To the midwife who had rushed over, startled by the news, Otsuma asked.

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“It’s a young master,” the midwife declared proudly.

“I see,” Otsuma smiled.
“Please take him over there quickly.
Mother, you go over there too….”

While the household was caught up in celebrating the boy’s birth, Otsuma took that moment to bid farewell to this world.
No one knew when she had prepared it, but she thrust the Seigara-hilted dagger deep beneath her left breast.
Another thing that struck people as strange was that it appeared this too had been prepared at some unknown time—she had spread a new burial shroud beneath her knees, and her fresh blood dyed the white garment a vivid crimson.

The only one who knew that secret was her mother, Omi.

“The boy born at that time is my uncle, who remains in good health even now,” said Mr.Yoshida.
“That woman called Otsuma—who was my great-grandmother—committed suicide at the very moment she gave birth to her child, so one might say that a certain curse haunting the Inoya family was extinguished.”
“As I mentioned before, in a household where until then no biological child had ever thrived, only the child born to Otsuma grew up safely.”
“He took a wife, sired two sons and one daughter, and all of them grew to adulthood without incident.”
“The second son was my father, and since he came to inherit the Yoshida household of our relatives, I too have taken on the Yoshida surname.”
“The main family bears the Inoya surname, and all their descendants are thriving.”
“From our modern perspective today, it may seem merely like a strange legend,” he said, “but my grandfather, being a man of the past, insists that the Inoya family’s bloodline continues unbroken to this day thanks to his mother who took her own life, and never fails to visit her grave on the anniversary of her death.”