Pathway to Japanese Literature

New sake

“…Master, your tea is ready.”

“Hmm, hmm, hmm.”

“You seem to have quite some free time... We have tangerines from the Bellows Festival. Please have one.”

“Much obliged.”
“…what with this unseasonable warmth, I found myself quite entranced.”

After letting out one big yawn, he reached toward the tray and picked up a tangerine.

At November's onset came four or five bitter cold days, but then the weather swung back—these past three or four had springlike warmth.

The sunlight streaming through the black-lacquered lattice window shone fully onto the monk's tatami mat with its raised nap.

Akasaka, Kuiigai - Lord Matsudaira Sadonokami's retainers' quarters.

This Akujūrō, for some reason, had become tremendously popular among retainers, palanquin bearers, grooms, and their ilk. From that room and this room they came inviting him—"Please visit our side too!"

A threadbare old lined kimono with frayed hems and two swords in peeling-lacquered scabbards—these were his sole possessions.

In Hongō’s Kanesuke-chō lived Morikawa Shōbei—Akujūrō’s proper uncle who served as chief inspector of the North Magistrates’ Office—and though returning there would have spared him any want for pocket money, ever since lankily drifting back to Edo that October after quitting his post in Kōfu, he had been rolling from room to room without so much as sending word to his uncle’s house.

Only Hyoroi no Matsugorō—Uncle Shōbei’s subordinate and an investigator from Kanda—knew of Akujūrō’s return to Edo, but had been strictly sworn to secrecy against informing Kanesuke-chō.

Given this situation, there was no way he could have a penny to his name—utterly destitute.
The retainers and palanquin bearers had long since been privy to such circumstances.

This wasn’t about forcibly dragging someone to their quarters to make them a dupe or staging some performance.
What they desired was to behold that serene look of contentment—letting him sprawl about as he pleased while they clustered around to dote on him, stroking that plump elongated chin of his.

Starting from Wakasaka's quarters, he made his way through each in turn - Enokizaka's Lord Yamaguchi Shūgen's grand residence, Babasakimon's Lord Dōi Ōi, Suidōbashi's Lord Mito's chambers - until for about ten days now he had been lingering in Matsudaira Sadonokami's retainers' quarters.

Akujūrō rolled a vividly colored tangerine in his hand,

“Hey, Sanpei—this your Bellows Festival tangerine?”

“Right.”

Akujūrō grinned slyly,

“No use trying to hide it... This ain’t no Bellows Festival tangerine—you swiped this from the mansion’s kitchen, didn’t ya?”

Sanpei the retainer gave a sheepish “heh” and scratched his head,

“As always, I can’t keep up with you, Master… H-how did you figure that out?”
“…Does it have some mark on it?”

“This here’s Yatsushiro—a specialty tangerine grown in Kawachi, not some cheap fruit blacksmiths chuck from their workshop windows.… Must’ve come as your relative Lord Matsudaira Kawachi-no-kami’s Eighth Day Festival gift.… And you went and pilfered it.”
“…What do you think? Saw right through it, didn’t I?”

Sanpei bowed respectfully,
“That’s exactly right...”
“When I passed by Ozōsō’s earlier, the entrance door stood open with tangerine baskets piled at the tobaguchi... They looked so fine-colored that I thought to show them to you, Master...”

“Grabbed ’em out and quick-like stuffed five-six into your belly…”

“Wh-what? Belly… How’d… how’d you even—”

“Tangerine rind’s got loincloth marks.”

“J-joke…”

Akujūrō slowly peeled a tangerine,

“It’s gotten quite quiet around here. Has everyone gone out?”

“When His Lordship returned from the castle earlier, he immediately gathered his retinue and set out for the Finance Magistrate’s Office at Kandabashi, so...”

“But this month, Lord Sadonokami wasn’t supposed to be on monthly duty for the kitchen department, was he?”

“Oh, is that so… We humble ones don’t know the details, but they say there’s been some terrible mistake at the Gold Mint…”

“Well now.”

“When they raised the palanquin, I caught just a glimpse of him—His Lordship seemed to be wearing quite a troubled expression… Given how composed he usually is, I can’t help but think something truly grave must have occurred…”

While they were exchanging carefree remarks, at the room's upper threshold,

“Pardon me… Might I trouble you with an inquiry?”

Sanpei, where he sat, lazily twisted only his head toward the upper threshold.

“What’s this, what’s this… What’re you asking about?”
“...Can’t deal with you now—quit your shouting over there.”

“Might Master Senba be present here by any chance?”

“If it’s Master Senba…”

Akujūrō shook his head,

“Tell them I ain’t here, tell ’em I ain’t here!”

At the upper threshold, someone caught that voice and—

“That voice is Mr. Akujūrō.… Trying to play ‘not home’ won’t work—it’s as clear as day here.”

Akujūrō put his hand to his forehead,

“Oh damn—did he hear that?”

“You couldn’t have heard that… It’s me—Hyoromatsu.”

“Ah, Hyoromatsu.”
“…Can’t be helped if you’ve caught on. Well, come up.”

The one who came around the rim of the large hearth to this room was none other than that lanky Matsugorō we all know.

After dropping the two-shō square cask onto the monk-bare tatami as if tossing it aside, he wiped the sweat from his nape while—

“To find where you’d got to, I went asking through every major chamber in the compound. Go to Wakisaka’s quarters? Then off to Enokizaka I had to trot.”
“...Get to Enokizaka? Then it’s up to Lord Doi’s rooms I went.”
“...Dragged this cask till I’m drenched, legs ground down like mortar pestles hunting you—and now you’d say ‘not here’? Can’t be done!”

Akujūrō stroked the tip of his long chin and said in a leisurely voice,

“You always bring such troublesome matters—it’s unnerving. …Seeing you haul in a square cask like this—now that’s a bad omen.”
“And here you come again, same as always, with some urgent favor to ask, don’t you?”
“...I’ve had enough of that.”

Hyoromatsu pressed on,

“If you catch on quick like this, can’t ask for better.”
“Actually, it’s just as you’ve guessed… By the way, this here’s fresh sake from Sakai that only just arrived in Shinagawa yesterday… Brought along a modest bit for you.”

Akujūrō made a vexed face,

“After this endless drought, to hear there’s new sake from Nada—just the mention makes a man impatient.”

“Well now, do have a taste.”

After emptying the tea bowl, he poured a glugging measure from the square cask and handed it over, which was accepted and downed in one gulp.

“...Seems this got thoroughly tossed about in that recent storm around Enshū Nada—aged beautifully.”
“...This is supreme.”
“...So, what’s this favor you’re after?”

Hyoromatsu stiffened his knees,

“...The fact is, yesterday 200,000 ryō left the Gold Mint—”
“Out of that, 32,000 ryō of gold was completely substituted—”

“Well now, 32,000 ryō—that’s no small sum. …I did just hear there’d been some commotion at the Mint. …So then—what the hell kind of blunder let that happen?”

“...The Official Gold Funds sent to the accounting mansion at Kanda Bridge for seasonal business—sixteen 10,000-ryō boxes and forty 1,000-ryō boxes.”
“…Two regular dispatch officials from the Mint and two audit officers from the accounting office accompanied the shipment. As they rowed up the Kanda River from Tokiwabashi, near Inari Riverbank, a stone boat from Kazusa rammed them unexpected-like. The four officials—boatmen and all—got flung wholesale into the river, while the official ship wedged itself between ascending and descending convoy boats—couldn’t advance nor retreat…”

Akujūrō brushed aside the talk.
He was grappling with Sanpei and exchanging bowls without pause in boisterous fashion.

Hyoromatsu was concerned,

“Are you listening?”

Akujūrō let out a belch while,

“I’m listening, I’m listening… Heh.”

“...The officials—drenched rats—clambered back into the boat and tried pushing out into midriver while muttering complaints and prodding the boatman to hurry, but as I said earlier, they’d gotten wedged tight between cargo boats and couldn’t budge an inch. …They scolded those cargo boats over there, threatened these manure boats here, and finally managed to row out—but during all that commotion, the stone boat that rammed them had already fled without a trace. Just to be thorough, they counted the gold boxes and found every last one accounted for… Resigned to their drenched misfortune, they eventually reached Kanda Bridge, completed the handover, and the 200,000 ryō got safely stored in the accounting mansion’s vault……”

“Heh... Ah... So that’s it... Heh...”

“...As you know, every morning at fifth hour, a magistrate would come to the Accounting Office to handle general affairs before ascending to the castle at ninth hour—standard procedure. That day followed routine: the duty officer emerged early, had them fetch two or three of the smaller 1,000-ryō boxes from yesterday’s 200,000 ryō Gold Mint shipment for final inspection before official business. But when they looked—not a single Small Gold Coin to be found, just boxes crammed full with rusty nails and stones... Shocked, they hastily gathered subordinates and began cracking open every last box from yesterday’s delivery. While the 10,000-ryō boxes remained intact, thirty-two of forty 1,000-ryō boxes—every one packed with old nails...”

“Hmm… hmm.”

“In short, they must’ve pulled the substitution during that brief chaos after the stone boat collision. …But even so—dawn breaking, river packed with cargo boats, folks watching—how’d they manage such lightning work? The sheer amount’s one thing, but the method’s downright brazen. Since this touches the shogunate’s dignity, they’ve shut the checkpoints at Asakusa Hashiba and Nakagawa-guchi’s ship inspection office, halted all downstream vessels to comb through each one like lice-picking—but still not a single clue’s turned up… So you see, Mr. Akujūrō...”

When there came no reply, Hyoromatsu peered over to look and found Akujūrō asleep with his hands on his knees, snoring away.

Gold Mint

The Gold Mint, commonly known as the Okane Aratamesho, corresponds to what is now the Mint Bureau.

While the Silver Mint in Nihonbashi's Kakiokamachi 2-chome produced buban-gin and shuban-gin silver coins, the Gold Mint specialized in minting ōban large gold coins, koban small gold coins, and buban-kin fractional gold coins.

Until the Genroku era, the Edo Gold Mint had operated under the *temae-buki* system—a subcontracting framework where coins struck by contracted workers only entered circulation after being assayed and stamped with certification seals by gold-silver inspector Gotō Shōsaburō. However, in Genroku 8 (1695), to relieve the shogunate's financial crisis, then-finance magistrate Ogura no Kami Hagiwara instituted a direct minting system for small gold coins. This reform saw the establishment of a government-operated foundry in Daikonbatake near Hongō's Reiunji Temple, where provincial mint workers were consolidated under shogunal control—placing the Gold Mint under the Fuyō-no-ma-zume chamber's jurisdiction and direct oversight by finance magistrates.

In Genroku 11 (1698), the Gold Mint was relocated to Nihonbashi Honchō 1-chōme beside Tokiwabashi Bridge, where it remained until Meiji 2 (1869) when the Mint Bureau was newly established.

The Gold Mint occupied a vast area seventy-two ken deep and forty-six ken wide, surrounded by black-planked fences that strictly isolated it from the outside world. The entrance’s rowhouse gate would close at the signal of sunset, after which all entry and exit was absolutely prohibited.

The compound within the black-planked fences was divided into four divisions: the Gold Bureau serving as administrative office, the Minting Workshop for casting operations, the Superintendent’s Official Residence functioning as director’s quarters, and rowhouses accommodating subordinate officials and craftsmen. The site now occupied by the Bank of Japan was where Gotō’s official residence stood, while the rowhouse division lay near Kanabukichō.

The Gold Bureau housed approximately twenty households of officials collectively referred to as Gold Mint personnel—including inspectors, elders, liaison officers, accountants, and clerks—while positions such as senior mint associates, junior mint associates, assistants, and minor officials existed alongside them.

In the Minting Workshop, there were ten minting foremen, under whom foremen assistants oversaw approximately two hundred craftsmen.

The primary work of the Gold Mint consisted of casting Small Gold Coins and fractional gold coins by purchasing mountain gold from shogunate-operated mines and other provincial sources, but it also handled additional duties: appraising and certifying tribute payments, acquiring crushed gold and dismounted decorative gold, collecting flawed coins and underweight currency from exchange houses, and reminting these materials.

The Minting Workshop’s one division was divided into six buildings: the Smelting House, Forging Area, Lower Crucible Handling Area, Foremen’s Station, Crafting Workshop, and Coloring Station.

The minting of Small Gold Coins was an exceptionally labor-intensive process: first came the Quality Inspection to assay the gold's purity; next the Purity Adjustment to standardize various gold materials to fixed grades; then the Crushing Process where they meticulously verified the kanme weight of raw gold before smelting it into refined metal; followed by the Alloying Stage where silver, copper, and other elements were mixed in; after which came Quality Determination to finalize the metal's composition. They would then roll it into sheets, stamp out blanks with dies, imprint official seals, apply coloring treatments—and only then would a Small Gold Coin be completed.

At the Gold Bureau, they would individually wrap each coin anew, place them into 1,000-ryō and 2,000-ryō boxes, and store these in the Gold Vault.

Since this was a facility handling currency, all personnel from the Gold Bureau’s clerks downward—assistants, minor officials, Minting Workshop foremen, additional helpers, and craftsmen—resided in longhouses within the Gold Mint compound, with exit beyond the gates prohibited by law except during seasonal festivals. Even on their rare outings, they faced rigorous inspections before being permitted to leave. Not only the Gold Mint personnel but even visiting merchants had to pass through the gate one by one with permits, and even then could never proceed beyond the strictly guarded longhouse gate entrance. ...Here alone existed a separate world—though situated within Edo’s city limits, it might as well have been an utterly detached island.

Just past the seventh hour.

Apparently having been forcibly roused and dragged along by Hyoromatsu, his usual slovenly self now veiled in the lingering haze of last night’s drink, he stood planted before the Gold Mint gate with an exceedingly ambiguous expression—one wondered what Master Akujūrō might say—

“Hmm… Quite a number of kites up there.”

Across a winter-clear sky of pristine azure, kites floated like patterns—kites upon kites.

Pentagonal, fan-shaped, gunbai military fans, Yokanpei figures, shirushi hanamaki streamers, cup-shaped, bat-shaped, octopus-shaped, hawk-shaped, squid-shaped, servant figures, Fukusuke dolls, gourd-shaped, cut-out designs…

From the beginning of November through the end of February was Edo’s kite-flying season, when even adults joined children in kite battles.

They used a tool called gangi—an anchor-shaped carved wooden piece fitted with a blade—which they entangled in an opponent’s string and yanked to sever and steal the kite.

Because of these kite battles, the roof tiles of residences and townhouses were needlessly broken.
Every year, roof repairs due to kites cost tens to hundreds of ryō.

Hyoromatsu became upset and,

“What are you saying such carefree things for? …Who cares about kites? Let’s just go inside already.”

“Now now, no need to rush. ...Even in official matters, divination plays its role. ...I’m currently reading the face of the Gold Mint.”

Leisurely pointing across the river,

“...Across the Kanda River lies Matsudaira Echizen-no-kami’s upper residence... To the west is Saya-chō; to the east, beyond the road, Ishi-chō... No matter which sky you look at, an atmosphere of clarity and harmony drifts about—yet only above the Gold Mint does a miasma of foul dampness linger thickly. Indeed, over two hundred people are cooped up in here like caged birds, toiling away diligently from dawn till dusk to make Small Gold Coins for others. The resentment of people and the resentment of gold working in tandem—that’s what’s making this malice rise up, I’d wager...”

Hyoromatsu slumped,

“Every time you start talking, it’s like a fire spreading from your hem—utterly unmanageable. …Come on, let’s leave it at that for now.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll go in—but listen here, Hyoromatsu, I know I’m repeating myself, but keep Uncle’s bald head strictly under wraps.”

“I get that part, but why insist on secrecy all the way to Kanesuke-chō? …Instead of lazing about in the retainers’ quarters, if you’d just return to Master’s side and face Mr. Fujinami head-on, think how pleased Master would be!”

“No, no, that’s where you’re mistaken… Uncle thinks of me as nothing but a wandering fool. …No one’s to thank for dampening the mood… This too falls under filial duty to Uncle.”

When they went to the guardhouse and presented the official permit, the sunken-faced guard captain glared sharply at Akujūrō,

“Who’s with you?”

“Investigator and Newly Appointed Officer, Senba Akujūrō.”

Disregarding their suspicious looks, he briskly pushed through and headed from beside the longhouse toward the central gate.
Four guards armed with six-foot staffs stood rigidly on both sides.

Upon passing through there, he reached the Gold Mint’s official residence gate.
Here too came demands from both sides: “Who approaches?”

Akujūrō was exasperated,

“What an ordeal.”
“I’d never grasped gold’s significance until this very day.”

Passing through the gate, they finally reached the government office entrance.

When they announced their names, a subordinate mint official came out and guided them to the accounting area.

In a fifty-tatami reception room where accounting grilles stood arranged in two rows, about twenty accountants and inspectors appeared busy weighing Small Gold Coins and wrapping them in packaging.

On a raised platform sat the elders’ seating area, where an old man wearing reading glasses—resembling Horibe Yahee of Matsusuke—adjusted a cushion.

“Your service is noted.”

Akujūrō assumed a composed expression and acknowledged the greeting with a dignified *ahem*.

"To come straight to the point—this matter of dispatching thirty-two thousand ryō in Official Gold Funds. Had your office been aware of this obligation well in advance?"

The Elder Official nodded courteously and,

“That is correct. As this concerns seasonal official duties—an annual custom—the Gold Mint makes preparations from the end of September. However, it is established that the precise date and time for dispatch will be notified by the Accounting Office.”

“I see... On what date was the dispatch day finalized?”

“On the evening of the seventh. On the evening of the fifth hour—8 PM—the day before that commotion occurred, we had received notification that the Official Gold Funds were to be sent via river transport by the eighth hour of the morning—8 AM—on the eighth.”

“So, the dispatch date wasn’t known until the day before, I take it?”

“That is correct.”

“Around what hour did the Official Gold Funds depart through the Gold Mint’s gate?”

“It was precisely at the sixth hour (6 AM).”

“The notification officer from the Accounting Office arrived at the fifth hour (8 PM) the previous evening, and the Official Gold Funds departed the Gold Mint at the sixth hour (6 AM) the following morning. How many individuals went out during that interval? …If you have gate records available, I would like to inspect them.”

“Ah, even we ourselves rigorously examined the gate records, but not a single individual had gone out.”

“Ah, I see. …Now then, how many officials handle the gold vault’s coin boxes?”

“At present, five. …After confirming the amounts of sealed gold, we package them into boxes of 1,000 ryō, 2,000 ryō, 5,000 ryō, and 10,000 ryō respectively, apply seals, record them in the Gold Vault’s ledger, then store them.”

“Do you conduct regular inspections of the stored funds’ contents?”
“…For instance, something like stocktaking.”

“We do.
“…During the seventh and eighth months, when the Minting Workshop closes for rest, we perform seal displacement inspections during that interval.”

“Once a year?”

“Yes, once a year. Was there… something else…?”

“No, this should suffice…”

When they left the accounting area, they proceeded from there to the district where the minting workshop was located.

There too stood a heavily guarded central gate.

Within the expansive grounds of the minting workshop stood ten smelting houses, vigorous smoke billowing from their roof vents.

Ten master craftsmen of the minting workshop each oversaw one smelting house, where under their direction near bellows-equipped furnaces, many workers wearing nothing but loincloths busily worked stretching and hammering gold.

Akujūrō stood at the entrance of the smelting house gazing absently, then turned toward Hyoromatsu and,

“Watching them knead and stretch like that, it’s just like a mochi shop… Hey, look—over by those bellows, they’re playing at drawing the gold out long and thin like mizuhiki cords… Let’s go.”
“Standing around in a place like this forever won’t get us anywhere.”

Exiting the smelting house gate and arriving at a section of rowhouses serving as lower-ranking craftsmen’s residences, they found about ten of the workers’ children playing in an open space there, flying jet-black crow kites in unison.

Every last one of them was a scrawny, shabbily dressed child.

Akujūrō stopped in his tracks and gazed absently at the children’s kites, then—as if struck by some thought—approached one nearby.

“Boy, that’s an unusual kite you’re flying there.”

“What’s strange about it? If you go to a kite shop, they sell ordinary ones like this for two mon each.”

“When I look, they’re all crow kites… Quite the coordinated effort.”

A world-weary child of about ten with a broad forehead licked his lips with his tongue and, with upturned eyes, glanced up at Akujūrō’s face while—

“…The Gold Mint’s Crow Group—or rather, it’s one of Edo’s famous sights. You didn’t know that?”
“…What country are you from?”

“Ah, my mistake.
“Anyway, why don’t you go out and fly it?”

Snorted through his nose, and—

“Oh, how generous! You gonna let me out?”
“...We ain’t flyin’ in this crummy cramped place ’cause we wanna! C’mon, let us out—outside!”

“That’s a shame.”
“So you all always fly your kites in this vacant lot, huh?”

“Buzz off, old man...”
“Don’t go mocking us kids.”
“If you can’t let us out, don’t you go talking big.”

“Ah, that was my fault... Now then, off you go—play over there.”

“Hey… You’re some washed-up officer, ain’t ya? …Weird face you got there.”

“My bad for having a weird face.”

“What’re you yappin’ about? Hey, washed-up cop—that all you’re gonna ask me? That Blue Gourd guy grilled me way harder earlier. …Who’d ya think’s tellin’ us to fly these kites anyway? Buncha dimwits in your crew, ain’t there? Heh, like some Echigo rice-pounder’s gonna come take orders to fly kites—quit jokin’ around.”

Akujūrō grinned slyly and,

"Oh, I see... So Blue Gourd came by and asked all that, did he."
"...those upturned eyes... that high nose... an arrogant, sarcastic face it must've been."

"Yeah, that's right. ...He's a senior investigator from the South Magistrates' Office—name's Fujinami, I hear."

Akujūrō turned toward Hyoromatsu and,

“Hyoromatsu… Fujinami’s cooked up an audacious scheme.”
“...Indeed, that’s just the sort of thing he’d hatch.”
“Given how things stand, seems this time too he’ll come up short. ...Well, enough of this—I’m heading back to Lord Matsudaira Sadonokami’s quarters now.”
“...Sooner or later...”

Leaving the dumbfounded Hyoromatsu behind, he shuffled out through the rowhouse gate.

Nibanhara

In the morning, frost pillars formed, but once the sun rose, the weather remained unseasonably warm, like spring. On the grass of the vacant lot by the riverbank, a heat haze shimmered.

From Kanda and Kamakura Riverbank to the vicinity of Kiji Bridge stretched continuous firebreak zones, while the vast open grounds spanning from Nibanhara to Yonbanhara formed ideal kite-flying fields where children gathered.

Across the Kanda River stood Lord Hitotsubashi’s estate, where above the pines lining its walls against a deep navy-blue sky floated nearly a hundred kites of varied shapes and hues.

Amidst close to a hundred children—twelve- and thirteen-year-olds at the eldest and seven- or eight-year-olds among them—running about, tussling, and playing with abandon, Akujūrō flew his kite in the grassy patch along the embankment.

Wearing a grime-stained hitatare with the front sagging, he tied the end of the kite string to his obi’s front and sat cross-legged with hands tucked in sleeves. With fingertips peeking from his collar while pinching his long chin’s tip, he gazed pensively at the crow kite soaring high.

Akujūrō’s crow kite spread its black wings, slowly swaying high in the blue, blue sky like a living crow.

Pentagonal, military fan-shaped, servant figure, cutout… Amidst a sky teeming with vibrantly colored kites, Akujūrō’s jet-black crow kite stood out starkly.

The black-lacquered surface had been thinly coated with alum to prevent moisture, so each time it tilted in the sunlight, it glinted silver.

A crow kite bought for ten mon at Tako Hachi, the paper kite shop in Ogawamachi.
He came to Nibanhara early this morning and was completely absorbed in flying his kite.

With his sideburns tousled by the wind and thoroughly pleased with himself as he grinned up at the sky, none other than Hyoromatsu happened to pass by Akujūrō. It was the direct route home from the North Magistrates’ Office within Kōraibashi to his own residence in Kanda. True to habit, he bustled forward in his usual leaning gait as he entered Nibanhara. He abruptly halted his steps and stared at Akujūrō’s retreating figure, then approached with a look of utter exasperation upon confirming it was unmistakably him.

“Mr. Akujūrō… What in the world are you doing here?”

Akujūrō slowly turned around,

“Oh, Hyoromatsu…”

“Hyoromatsu? That’s not the issue here.
…What in blazes are you doing?”

“What do you mean ‘what’? Look and see—flying a kite.”

Hyoromatsu puffed up his cheeks in a sulk,

“I’ve never seen anyone as carefree as you.
With the South and North now locked in a blazing sword-lock clash of all times, how can you sit here flying kites?!
I’m too appalled to even speak!”

“I’ve become completely addicted, you see. Hyoromatsu, it’s quite fun—you ought to give it a try yourself.”

“Tch—you think this is the time for kites?! Meanwhile down south, Fujinami’s gone and pegged Tachiume Sanae from the Gold Mint’s vault staff as this whole scheme’s mastermind—hauled him into custody along with his ten-year-old brat to squeeze out a confession—and here’s our Northern commander flying kites in a firebreak field among the brats! How’s that for priorities? When I went to check at your duty room, they said you dash out every morning and don’t return till evening—so I thought for sure you were throwing yourself into the work! And here you are playing around like this?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

Hyoromatsu looked on the verge of tears,

“That ‘Yeah, that’s right’ of yours is enough to make a man weep. …Had I known it’d come to this, I’d never have relied on you from the start. …Just because this lowly one counted on you, now I’ve got no pieces left to play. …What’re you gonna do about it?”

Akujūrō gave the kite string a little adjustment and,

“……Hoh… So Fujinami’s already made his move that quickly.”
“Even so, what’s the reasoning behind dragging even that child into this?”

Hyoromatsu squatted down beside Akujūrō,

“In other words… On the morning the Official Gold Funds left the Gold Mint, the only one flying a kite was that child…”

“What of it?”

“As you know, those Funds departed at dawn’s sixth hour.”
“But Yoshitarō—Sanae’s boy—had been flying alone in tenement grounds nearly an hour prior! However keen he was—dawn’s sixth hour means first light! Suspicious timing! And mind—his father works vault security.”
“Fujinami’s convinced they used that brat’s crow kite to signal outside cohorts about imminent shipment…”

“Heh heh heh.”

“According to Fujinami, it’s an annual custom—everyone knows the Official Gold Funds will soon be transported by river to the comptroller’s office.”
"The outside gang loaded counterfeit thousand-ryō boxes onto a stone boat and had them stationed around Inari Riverbank since well before."
“...They must’ve arranged it so that if a signal kite went up from the Gold Mint, their accomplices would receive word immediately.”

“What kind of kite exactly did that child fly?”

“There’s this Crow Group at the Gold Mint who make it their business to battle Odawara-chō’s hawk kites south of the riverbank—so naturally, any Gold Mint child’s kite would be a crow kite.”
“Now, that morning specifically, the kid flew a hexagonal sword kite—white base with two thick red Tango stripes—so…”

“Tango stripes often show up on Nagasaki kites—was that one bought?”

“No, that’s not it… His father Sanae made it for him.”

“So what became of that kite?”

“Just as you’d expect—Odawara-chō’s hawk kites tangled with it and made off with the thing.”
“Fujinami reckons they must’ve tied some message scroll with detailed instructions to it. That’s how they carried it off, he says.”

Akujūrō gave a noncommittal “Hah,”

“That’s quite a stretch… So what’s the child saying about all this?”

“He kept pestering his father to make him a white kite instead of those crow kites he always had—when he finally got it made, he was so thrilled he couldn’t stand it.”
“…Says he couldn’t wait for dawn to break and flew it then.”

Akujūrō nodded,

“That’s about the size of it.… If it were me, I wouldn’t use some brat for a job this big.”
“After all, children are honest—press them hard enough and they’ll spill everything.… But with all that evidence lined up and Fujinami as your opponent, no excuse you cook up’s gonna fly.”
“...What a pity.”

“You can’t just act all composed like that!”
“So, what’s your deduction?”
“Have you come up with any conclusions?”

“Nah, not yet.… Haven’t even reached proper thinking yet—just skimming the surface, really.”

He stood up leisurely and, while pulling in the kite string, began to lower the kite.

“By the way, Hyoromatsu—did you know there was a small fire at Matsudaira Echizen’s stable across the river from the Gold Mint around the fourth hour the other night?”

Hyoromatsu shook his head,

“No, this humble one was unaware.
“After all, this humble one has been completely tied up with this case—there’s no way I could’ve attended to some small fire on top of that.”

“They say Edo investigators are laid-back, and truly so. …The Matsudaira Echizen estate where that small fire broke out lies just across the river from the Gold Mint—doesn’t that strike you as odd at all?”

Hyoromatsu chuckled,

“It’s not as though someone set fire to it from across the river at the Gold Mint. Why would that be strange?”

Akujūrō meticulously wound the kite string around the spool, then took both the kite and spool in hand.

“When I returned from the Gold Mint yesterday and was lying in my room, the stable hand from Matsudaira Echizen came to visit. Said that around the fourth hour last night, a lantern kite had fallen onto the stable roof and burst into flames.”
“They managed to put it out before things got serious, but if they’d noticed any later, it would’ve turned into a proper disaster.”
“...Claimed they had a hell of a time with water and dragon pumps... Well, Hyoromatsu? Doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

“Heh heh, a lantern kite, you say…”

“If you don’t get it, then don’t...”
“I’m heading over to Matsudaira Echizen’s stable now—tell Fujinami to come here saying I’ve got something to discuss. Reluctant or not from my summons, that obstinate fool’ll show up without fail.”

“Such an errand would be simple enough for this humble one, but if you’re summoning Mr. Fujinami, does that mean you’ve got some concrete plan in mind?”

“I’ll come up with a plan now.… Just go tell Fujinami—apologies for the trouble—‘Senba Akujūrō awaits by Matsudaira Echizen’s stable. Come at once.’”

“Right away, sir.”
“...Well, it’s your scheme—no use taking it seriously.… Very well, I’ll go as bid. Don’t start weeping while I’m gone—find some way to amuse yourself.”

Small Fire

Next to the archery range was a wide horse-riding ground, and beside it stood a stable displaying long horizontal latticework.

Two nights prior, after the small fire had occurred, one end of the stable had been half-burned over about five ken, the round posts of the horse stands turned charred black, and several lay collapsed upon the drenched ground.

Nimbly hopping over the puddles left by the fire as he approached was Fujinami Tomoe—Edo’s foremost master investigator and a reserve officer of the South Magistrates’ Office.

True to form, he approached with his volatile face bristling jaggedly, coldly gleaming eyes narrowed between long single eyelids—their whites prominent—then stood abruptly without a word, thin lips pursed into a cruel downward curve.

Akujūrō bent at the waist with exaggerated politeness,

“Ah, Mr. Fujinami—how gracious of you to come all this way. …As expected of Edo’s foremost master investigator, your dedication to duty leaves me in awe—if I may say so.”

Fujinami showed no hesitation,

“So, what’s this business you speak of?”

“I do apologize for troubling you to come all this way, but there’s something I’d like to show you...”

“So what’s your point? That is what I’m asking.”

“Given that I’ve summoned you here despite your many official duties, it goes without saying this concerns the Gold Mint affair...”

Fujinami laughed with a gloomy "Hmph,"
"Meddling again? ...I thought it'd be something like that."

Akujūrō stroked his chin with a “heh heh,”

“Well now, I’m flattered you’d call me a meddler, but I hear you’ve set your sights on Yoshitarō—the son of Tachiume Sanae from the Gold Mint’s vault office…”

“So what?”

“If you insist on reprimanding every little thing, we’ll never get anywhere—let’s keep this civil.… Since you detest tediousness, I’ll speak plainly: The truth is, I find that child Yoshitarō pitiable and wish to establish his innocence somehow. Hence my meddling—disregarding any accusations of overstepping.”

“As you well know, this humble one is but a nameless Gonpachi kept by various duty rooms these days—I’ve not a shred of worldly ambition to seek glory through this or to best you.”

“…I suppose you could call saving that innocent man my pastime, if you’ll pardon the expression…”

Fujinami sharply narrowed the corners of his eyes,

“You’re spouting quite the pretentious lines now—so you’re claiming to hold solid proof that Yoshitarō is innocent?”

“Whether it constitutes evidence or not is something I’d like to consult with you about now…”

He cleared his throat with a *hrmph*,

“The basis for your suspicion this time is that the child Yoshitarō flew a white ken kite with two red Tango stripes at an unseasonable hour—around the sixth hour in the morning.”

“...This occurred about half a period before the Official Gold Funds were to depart the Gold Mint... In your estimation, Tachiume Sanae—knowing the funds would soon leave the mint today—made his son Yoshitarō fly that conspicuous white Nagasaki kite with red stripes from anywhere visible, to signal his accomplices waiting near Inari Riverbank...”

“Is there any discrepancy in that?”

Fujinami maintained a coldly impassive expression,

“Exactly as you say—and?”

“Now, now, let’s keep this civil… But then, a kite from somewhere cut that one’s string and carried it off. …The reason being, they’d likely fastened a tied note detailing their scheme to that kite…”

“So what?”

“If I may ask something impertinent—this would mean you’ve concluded that kite indeed fell into Ishibune’s gang’s hands?”

“What nonsense—it’s precisely because they obtained it that such things became possible.”

Akujūrō nodded,

"I see, that's quite logical."

Having said that, he peered sharply at Fujinami’s face,

“By the way, Mr. Fujinami—though it’s already November, do you know why it’s been so unseasonably warm these past few days?"
“…It’s practically spring weather.”

Fujinami’s irritation finally reached its limit,

“This official didn’t come all the way here to exchange weather pleasantries with you.”
“If it’s such trivial matters, this official will take his leave here…”

Akujūrō, in an exaggerated gesture of stopping him,
“Now, now, do wait a moment.”
“You’re as short-tempered as ever.”
“If you won’t answer, this humble one shall expound. …The reason for this balminess? These past few days, we’ve had an unbroken easterly wind from the south.”
“If you think I’m lying, go to the Asakusa Surveying Office and look through the Astronomy Bureau’s journals yourself.”
“It’s written as east by east-southeast.”
“You see, this humble one has actually investigated it himself, so there’s no mistake here.”

“The wind blows from the east, blows from the west… Are you saying there’s something strange about that?”

Akujūrō pressed him down with his hand. “Nothing strange—but there’s meaning to it. Hey now, Mr. Fujinami… Night before last around the fourth hour—ten o’clock—this stable here caught fire, plain as you see. Generally speaking, this ain’t a place where fires start up. So why’d it happen? ’Cause a lantern kite came stretching over that wall yonder and crashed right onto this roof. Five grooms saw it happen—no mistake there.”

“I’ll show you the burnt remnants later, but tell me this—which direction would someone have to fly a lantern kite for it to reach precisely this spot? Like I said earlier, we’ve had a steady Shimousa easterly wind these past few days.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm—I take that as your general acknowledgment of understanding—but from here across the river, the Gold Mint’s rowhouses lie precisely due west.”

“…”

“The official from Kanda Bridge’s accounting office who came to deliver notice about transferring the Official Gold Funds to the Gold Mint arrived around the fifth hour—eight in the evening.”
"...The small fire in this stable broke out about one hour later—around ten at night."
“…I won’t claim that lantern kite was certainly launched from the Gold Mint, but if someone wanted to signal Ishibune’s gang at Inari Riverbank, there’d be no need to wait until dawn.”
“As you see—lantern kites exist. If they’d wanted to act, they could’ve sent the signal that very night. …Granted, a white ken kite with two red stripes stands out—but against lantern kites flown after dark? No contest. …And if making the same signal anyway, sooner’s better for every arrangement.”
“That’s human nature, eh? …So—did you confirm Yoshitarō flew a lantern kite too?”

Fujinami grimaced bitterly,

“Well—our investigation hasn’t yet reached that point. …We’ve yet to receive any report about a small fire there caused by a lantern kite.”

“That right there is the inflexibility of officialdom. …As for this humble one, I was lying in Matsudaira’s retainers’ quarters and casually overheard snippets of this story. …Call it a fortunate accident on my part, but from these circumstances we can infer that Yoshitarō likely bears no guilt—needless to say, lantern kites belong to battlefield beacon methods. Managing the kite string’s tension requires precise rhythm, and launching one demands considerable skill—hardly something an eight- or ten-year-old child could handle. …After all, you’ve got this lantern structure with a lit candle standing inside... It takes real finesse to keep the flame from going out while preventing the lantern from burning up as you send it aloft. In most cases—nine out of ten—they end up burning the lantern before they can even get it airborne.”

Fujinami sat with arms crossed and eyes lowered in deep thought, then suddenly raised his face—

“While your logic holds some water, that doesn’t mean I can definitively declare Tachiume innocent. If a fellow can make Nagasaki-style ken kites to give to a child, he must be quite knowledgeable about kites. He’d surely fly a lantern kite too.…He’d launch one himself at night, then come morning—just as the Official Gold Funds were about to depart the Mint—as a signal that they’d soon be on their way, he’d have his son fly that white kite with two red stripes…”

Akujūrō shook his head,

“That simply won’t do. When it comes to kite-makers, there’s another expert at the Gold Mint. That would be one of the vault staff—a man named Ishii Uzō. He makes all the crow kites for the Mint’s children. This is beside the point, but let me tell you—Yoshitarō’s kite wasn’t any sort of signal, much less carrying a message. You claim there was some arrangement to attach a message to that kite, which Ishibune’s gang hooked on a stair rail to retrieve. But I tell you plainly—no such thing ever happened.”

Fujinami smirked knowingly,

“Well now, you speak as if you saw it with your own eyes.”
“...Since you’re making such bold claims, I suppose you must have some solid evidence.”

“Precisely because I do have it, I’m stating this so plainly. …I’ll show you the evidence—do come this way.”

Akujūrō led the way out of the stable, circled behind the archery range’s target mound, and emerged into a wide open space along the fence when he suddenly halted. Pointing at the twisted crown of a massive old pine tree, he turned back toward Fujinami,

“The proof that Yoshitarō’s kite wasn’t any sort of signal lies right there—as you see… That kite wasn’t stolen through any stair-rail scheme.”
“There—snagged on that branch and dangling limp.”

Looking up where he pointed, there indeed hung a white ken kite with fresh paper still vibrant in color, bearing two red Tango stripes, dangling limply as it swayed back and forth in the wind.

“How’s that? From inside the Gold Mint’s walls, this pine tree can’t be seen. …Yoshitarō likely assumed the hawk group came and snatched it away as per usual—but this is how matters truly concluded. …There’s no need to verify whether that kite carried a message. …Even supposing it did, with Yoshitarō’s kite caught here like this, the signal couldn’t possibly have reached them—yet as you’re well aware, Ishibune’s gang commenced their movements right on schedule. …From this reasoning, I maintain Yoshitarō’s kite bore no signal whatsoever. …In essence, we must conclude the signal occurred before Yoshitarō ever flew his kite. …Well then? Have you been persuaded?”

he jeered, jutting his chin mockingly,

“The workings of heaven are subtle indeed—that these past two or three days the wind has blown consistently from the same direction is entirely heaven’s doing. ...If Yoshitarō’s kite launched from the Gold Mint ended up here, then by the same token, one cannot deny that the lantern kite that fell on the stable over there must also have originated from the Gold Mint. This can hardly be dismissed as mere sophistry.”

He suddenly turned serious,

“To tell the truth,” he said, “ever since that incident occurred, I’d been going to Niban Field outside Hitotsubashi—flying kites while pondering various matters.”
“...Turns out kite-flying’s more enjoyable than you’d think. While at it, I noticed a strange little detail—though as I said earlier, this isn’t about chasing glory or trying to humble you. Pure diversion... Now since I mean to show you the marvel at the heart of this affair—if it please you—I’d have you accompany me toward the Gold Mint.”

Fujinami clenched his teeth with a click and averted his gaze, but then nodded resentfully,
“Very well, I’ll accompany you.”
he muttered bitterly.

Crows and Hawks

Exiting Matsudaira Echizen’s side gate, Akujūrō—holding a crow kite and reel—stealthily began to cross Tokiwabashi Bridge.
The moment they crossed over brought them precisely to the side of the Gold Mint.

When looking over the fence at the roof ridge of the Gold Mint, as usual, twelve or thirteen crow kites launched from the open space within the grounds floated in the sky.

Akujūrō, looking like a simpleton as he jerked his chin upward toward the sky,

“...What do you think—they’re still at it as usual. ...I hadn’t known this before, but indeed, the Gold Mint’s Crow Group versus Odawara-chō’s Hawk Group are quite famous downtown. They say some people even come all the way from uptown just to watch these kite battles.”

Fujinami responded in a disinterested tone,

“Hmm, hmm.”

As for Akujūrō, in remarkably high spirits, he gaped his mouth open while tracking the crow kites with his eyes,

“...Soon now, hawk kites will arrive from Odawara-chō over there, and a battle will commence here.
“I think we’ll watch leisurely from here.
“...Still, just idly watching grows tedious.”
“...Fortunately, I’ve brought a crow kite as well, so let’s fly kites outside this wall.”
“...How about it, Mr. Fujinami—care to give it a try?”
“...Watching this catch the wind and dance its way up into the sky somehow expands one’s spirit and brings such delight.”

Fujinami grew increasingly impatient,

“If you want to fly it, fly it then—but what of that matter from earlier? …You claimed you’d show me something strange...”

Akujūrō grinned slyly,

“Therefore, I shall now present it for your esteemed viewing in due course. …Haste makes waste.”
“Now now, do go ahead and watch this humble one’s kite-flying.”
“…Senba Akujūrō will now fly a kite.”
“Kanda Ogawamachi’s Tako Hachi crow kite hereby announces the commencement of hawk kite welcoming ceremonies!”

Chanting “Ten-tere-tsuku” through vocalized shamisen rhythms, he deftly maneuvered the kite string, then with a flick sent it aloft on the wind.

Akujūrō's crow kite crawled along the ground, nearly tumbling into the narrow ditch along the fence when suddenly buffeted sideways by a gust of wind—swiftly surging upward to climb straight into the sky.
Controlled by the string unreeling from the spool, its black wings glinting dully silver in sunlight like tarnished plate, it stretched endlessly upward as if reaching for heaven itself.
After paying out every last measure of kite string, Akujūrō turned back toward Fujinami,

“How about it—quite splendid, don’t you think? Bathed in sunlight as it sways gently there—why, it looks just like a living creature. Holding this string, a faint tremor comes through—lets me sense the heart of the heights right in my hands. Truly a splendid feeling.”

Akujūrō pointed alternately at his own crow kite and those rising from the Gold Mint’s grounds.

“Now then, Mr. Fujinami—my kite here climbs to such lofty heights you see, yet every last one of those Gold Mint crow kites keeps strangely hugging the roof ridges… Ten out of ten without exception—doesn’t that strike you as odd?”

Fujinami responded absentmindedly,

“That depends on the kite’s craftsmanship and its size.
Moreover, depending on how they’re balanced, their flight patterns may vary—nothing particularly mysterious about that.”

“Oh? Is that so?
Well, if that’s your view…”

Suddenly letting out a shrill cry,

“Ah! Here they come, here they come!
“……Three or so hawk kites have come from Odawara-chō.”
“The kite battle’s about to begin now!”

From the direction of Odawara-chō came three enormous hawk kites—each easily twice the size of the crow kites.
Gleaming with silver-painted wing patterns, they came swooping down toward the Gold Mint and began hooking their grappling hooks onto nearby crow kites.

The crow kites, not to be outdone, advanced on the hawk kites from three directions as if vying for position.

Outnumbered, the hawk kites appeared to be at a temporary disadvantage—but leveraging their large frames, they forcibly pressed down, hooked each crow with grappling hooks one by one, and fled toward Odawara-chō.
No sooner had one thought this than three fresh reinforcements came swiftly sweeping toward them.

Akujūrō clapped his hands,

“This has gotten interesting—I think I’ll join this battle myself.”

With that, he manipulated the kite string and directed the crow kite toward the upper part of the Gold Mint.

However, for some reason, the hawk kites paid no attention to Akujūrō’s kite.
Dodging Akujūrō’s advancing crow kite, they assailed only the Gold Mint’s crow kites circling below.
The more impatiently Akujūrō directed his crow kite toward the hawk kites, the more they nimbly twisted away to avoid it.

Akujūrō smirked as he,

“Well now, Mr. Fujinami—it’s not like these crow kites bear any markings, yet they strangely refuse to engage with mine.”
“What on earth could this mean?”

Fujinami reflexively slapped his thigh,

“In other words, there’s something fishy about the Gold Mint’s kites!”

Akujūrō grinned broadly and,

“Since you’ve grasped that much, there’s no need for further ado. …Allow me to present here a summary of what this humble one has observed these past two days.”

With that, he concluded his words,

“...As you’ve likely surmised, this isn’t the first time this humble one has flown kites near the Gold Mint—it’s the third since the day of the incident. ...Now then, as you can see, I discovered that only my crow kite gets dodged by those hawks...utterly refuse to engage with it. ...Finding this strange, I entered the Gold Mint proper and tried flying among the children.”
“...Yet again, only this humble one’s crow kite gets ignored... When I wondered why this kept happening and observed closely, my kite flew differently from the others at the Gold Mint... The one I bought at Tako Hachi in Ogawamachi soars remarkably high, whereas the Mint children’s kites strangely hug the lower air.”
“There’s such a difference.”
“…The Gold Mint’s crow kites have this peculiar habit of not soaring high—apparently they can be clearly distinguished even from afar. …So I went to inquire at Tako Hachi in Ogawamachi.”
“Why is it that only the Gold Mint’s crow kites fly in that peculiar way, you see?”
“...So Tako Hachi said he has no recollection of selling crow kites to the Gold Mint’s children—meaning it’s likely someone at the Mint is hand-making them for the kids.”
“...After that, I spent my days visiting every last kite shop in Nihonbashi, Kyōbashi, and Kanda—but not a single one had sold crow kites to the Gold Mint’s children.”
"...After all, with at least three or four being cut and taken each day like this, replacements are absolutely necessary—yet as I mentioned earlier, not a single one is coming from kite shops."
“So this means—just as Tako Hachi said—there must be some skilled fellow at the Gold Mint making new kites for the children each time theirs get cut down. …When I investigated, that person turned out to be none other than Ishii Uzō from the vault staff.”

“...I see.”

“Now then, the issue lies in how the Gold Mint’s kites stubbornly refuse to climb properly... What in blazes could explain this?”

“Something to do with their balance...”

“That plays a role, aye—but this humble one reckons they’re weighted heavier than regular crow kites.”

Fujinami interjected,

“To contend with those large hawk kites, they must have made their kites somewhat heavier.”

Akujūrō nodded,

“That’s right—I thought the same at first.
“I understand that part, but then they should have gone after my lighter kite.
“However, they consistently dodge my kite.
“No matter how you look at it, they clearly only want the Gold Mint’s kites.”

Once again, he grinned slyly and,

“This part was rather tricky—had me racking my brains for a bit—but I solved it right away.”
“I’ve completely seen through every aspect of this kite battle’s trickery.”

He playfully stuck out his tongue and moistened his lower lip,

“...Truth be told, I never considered that stone boat collision a proper incident from the start.”
“...That was all a show to make people think the substitution happened mid-river—I’m certain nothing actually occurred that day.”
“Why? Because no matter their skill, swapping thirty-two thousand-ryō boxes in that brief dawn window—with countless eyes watching—would’ve been impossible. …So what does that mean? …We must conclude those thirty-two boxes had already been swapped before leaving the Gold Mint. …Needless to say, after that incident, there was never another chance for such substitution. …The thieves were inside the Mint all along—they staged that elaborate ruse to make it look like an outside job.”
"...Ironically, their attempt to fake an incident ended up proving the crime had already taken root within the Gold Mint itself."
“So how’d they manage it?…They say once small gold coins get stamped and boxed up in thousand-ryō cases for the vault, those boxes only get checked once a year. …Yet despite this, vault staff casually wander in and out all day long.”
“...With just a bit of patience, replacing box contents with old nails little by little each day would’ve been child’s play.”
“Even substituting two hundred-ryō bundles daily would empty about thirty thousand-ryō boxes in mere half a year.”

“Exactly!”

“...So then, what became of all that gold? At first they might manage, but as the amount grew, there’s no way they could hide such quantities in some paltry hiding place. …The only reason ten ryō passes for ten ryō is because they forced it into circulation—but since the Tenpō recoinage, the gold content’s barely two bu. …Gold Mint workers of all people wouldn’t hoard such dross like precious heirlooms.”

“...If they colluded with a foundry foreman to smelt down the small gold coins and keep only the pure gold content, it would reduce to a minuscule amount.”

“...Well, here’s what I figured. When refined to pure gold content, the total bulk does shrink—but years later, all they’d need is to secretly build a smelting workshop in some mountain and recast it back into proper small gold coins.”

“Leave it to the specialists—child’s play for them.”

“...But even then—keeping that much hidden within the Mint itself? Dangerous business.”

“They’d want to move it out somehow.”

“What they finally devised were crow kites. …You see, Mr. Fujinami—it’s precisely because the Mint’s crow kites are weighted so heavily that they can’t rise properly and hug the lower air.”

“...And likewise, why Odawara-chō’s hawk kites specifically target those low-flying crows—this too stems from that very cause.”

Fujinami finally yielded,

“No—this is rather an astute deduction indeed.”

Akujūrō showed no particular look of triumph,

“Proof over conjecture—let me just snag one and show you its true form, shall I?”

He directed his crow kite toward a nearby Gold Mint crow kite, entangled their strings around a roof bracket, then yanked hard. Smoothly reeling it in, he seized the captured kite and snapped its bamboo frame between both hands. Inside the splintered frame glinted a slender golden thread—they had refined small gold coins into pure gold wire and concealed it within the kite’s bamboo skeleton.

Akujūrō chuckled smugly,

“...Well then, Mr. Fujinami, hurry off to Odawara-chō and round up all those hawk kite fliers. If you don’t hurry, they’ll escape into the sky. …Then there’s Ishii Uzō from the vault staff and one foundry foreman…”