Pathway to Japanese Literature

Dramatis Personae

Fujieda Noriari

Fujieda Noriari’s younger sister Onui

Yoshida Gorosaburō

Horibe Sanzaemon, steward

Kakusuke, lower-ranking retainer

The priest of the family temple

Jūkichi, farmer

Jūkichi's mother Otoki

The village girl Okome

Ōbishiya Ayai

Shinzō Ayatsuru

Kisuke, young servant

In addition: men and women viewing cherry blossoms, teahouse girls, vendors selling eye decorations.

Young monk, young samurai, water vendor, lantern vendor, Shinnai reciter

People from the red-light district; women and children singing Bon Festival songs; and others

Act 1

Scene 1

Mukōjima's Mokubo-ji Temple.
Downstage of the Hirabutai stood a thatched-roof teahouse.
Under its eaves hung a paper lantern labeled "Azumaya," while at the entrance grew a willow tree of graceful form.
Two folding stools sat arranged in a suitable spot.
Here and there rose cherry trees in full glorious bloom.
Before them all stretched Mokubo-ji Temple's sacred precincts.

(Kumazō and Hanji, dressed as craftsmen with decorative eye coverings, carried a sake barrel. Three other girls, similarly attired for cherry blossom viewing, were all seated on the teahouse’s folding stools.)
Outside as well, a great many men and women in cherry blossom-viewing attire—each dressed to their own taste—stood gathered.
(Tenmei 5 [1785], March 15th—the sound of double-plate nenbutsu chanting echoed from Umewaka’s memorial service.)

"Kumazō! Hey!"
"Miss."
"Hurry up with tea or hot water!"
"Must be this damn hangover—my throat's parched as hell."

"I tell ya, this place is pure country."
"During blossom season, you'd think they'd put out something with some style..."
"Hey! Hey, Miss!"
"Make it quick!"

Teahouse girl: “Yes.”
“Yes.”

(From inside the teahouse, two teahouse girls wearing red sashes brought out trays laden with kettles, cups, cherry blossom rice cakes, and so forth.)

Teahouse Girl A: "We're terribly crowded today, so we ended up being delayed."

Teahouse Girl B: "Oh my, please do take your time and rest here."

Kumazō: "If we dawdle too much, the sun'll end up setting. Hey, Hanji."

Hanji: "After we rest a bit, let's hurry to pay our respects at Umewaka."

(Everyone drank tea while exchanging casual remarks.)
From the temple interior, the sound of double-plate Nenbutsu chanting could be heard.
The men and women viewing cherry blossoms looked toward the temple's depths.

“Hey, the Nenbutsu’s starting!”

“Let’s hurry,” said a woman.

The great crowd of men and women surged into the temple grounds, their clamorous voices rising like floodwaters.

“They say the nenbutsu chanting has begun,” said Girl A, adjusting her cherry-blossom hairpin. “Shouldn’t we be going too?”

Kumazō scratched his stubbled chin. “Ain’t wrong.” He rose from the stool, its legs scraping against gravel. “Well, reckon we oughta get goin’?” Turning toward the teahouse’s dim interior, he called out, “Hey, Miss!” A coin clinked against wood as he added, “Leavin’ payment right here.”

“Many thanks for your custom,” Teahouse Girl A replied with a bow that made her red sash dip toward the ground.

(Kumazō and Hanji tried to stand and staggered.)

Girl A: “Oh! Careful!”

Girl B: “If you all don’t watch out—being drunk like this—you’ll end up falling into the pond.”

Hanji: “If we fall in, I’ll hold you and we’ll commit double suicide together.”
“Ahahahaha!”

“This thing’s a damn nuisance,” said Kumazō.
“Hey, can’t someone take this thing?”
(He produced the sake barrel.)

“But this here’s already empty, ain’t it?” said Girl C.

Kumazō: “Empty or not, if we ain’t carryin’ this thing around, it just don’t feel proper for cherry blossom viewin’, does it? While I’m at it, I’ll hand this over to you as well.”

(Kumazō removed the decorative eye coverings.)
(Girl C received them, put on the decorative eye coverings, and carried the empty barrel.)

Hanji: “I can’t stand this stuff either—it’s too damn annoying.”
(He removed the decorative eye coverings.) “Helmet parts, neck guards—don’t need any of this crap. I’ll hand everything over to you all.”

(Hanji also produced the decorative eye coverings and barrel.)
(Girl A put on the decorative eye coverings, and Girl B carried the barrel.)

“Miss,” said Girl A.
“Thank you for your kind service.”

“You’re most welcome; I didn’t mind at all.”

“C’mon now, let’s get goin’, let’s get goin’.”

(With Kumazō leading the way, they all clamored their way into the temple grounds.)

Teahouse Girl A: “With Umewaka’s memorial service today, we’ve had customers streaming in since dawn—not a moment to breathe.”

Teahouse Girl B: “Honestly, I’m utterly spent.”

Teahouse Girl A: “Cherry blossom season’s peak only lasts five or six days. Being swamped can’t be helped.”

(The two were tidying up tea bowls and such.)
From stage left rear entered Fujieda's younger sister Onui, eighteen years old, dressed in the attire of a hatamoto's daughter, accompanied by the retainer Kakusuke.

Kakusuke: "Young Mistress, might you care to rest here awhile?"

(Onui nodded and sat on the folding stool.)

“Please do come in.”

(Teahouse Girl A pours tea and serves it.)

Onui: “Kakusuke.”
“The crowds today are truly extraordinary, wouldn’t you say?”

Kakusuke: “As Your Ladyship observes, Mukōjima presently blooms in full splendor—hence all Edo’s populace ventures forth.”

Onui: “Indeed this floral zenith transforms the prospect—does it not rival even our customary vistas?”

(Teahouse Girl A served tea to Kakusuke.)

Kakusuke: “Miss! Mercy, I beg you.”
“Ain’t a drop o’ sakura tea comin’ this way?”

Teahouse Girl A: “At once, at once.”

(The woman entered the shop.)
Onui looked around.
From the temple grounds emerged Otoki, forty-seven or forty-eight years old, dressed as a farmer’s wife. She wandered uncertainly and locked eyes with Onui.

Otoki: "Oh! Could this be the young mistress?"

Onui: "Oh! Wet Nurse?"

Kakusuke: "Wet Nurse, what an unexpected place to meet."

Onui: "Do sit there."

Otoki: “This humble one thanks you.”

(Otoki sat on the folding stool and bowed formally.)

Otoki: “This humble one has been most remiss in paying respects of late. And is today for cherry blossom viewing?”

“It isn’t precisely cherry blossom viewing, but having paid respects at Kogame’s honorable family temple, I came by occasion to attend the Memorial Service for Umewaka.”

“To tell the truth, I too came to pay my respects at Lord Umewaka’s memorial service, but in the crowded temple grounds I lost sight of my son, and while searching for him around there, I happened to meet you at just the right moment.”

“What? You lost sight of your son in the crowd...”
“That must be worrying.”

“No, he’s no child—somehow or another he’s become a full-fledged young man. There’s no need for this humble one to worry overmuch.”

“Even if you aren’t worried yourself, your son might be fretting over you instead.”
“Shall I go make a quick search for him?”

“No, no, this humble one would never impose such trouble,” Otoki demurred. “He will follow shortly.”

Onui straightened her posture. “But we must not pass like ships in the night. Kakusuke—search the temple grounds at once.”

Kakusuke: “Understood.”

Otoki: “Thank you for your trouble.”

Kakusuke: “Then, please wait here for a short while.”

(Kakusuke gave a respectful nod to Onui and dashed into the temple grounds.)
(The teahouse woman exited holding tea bowls.)

“Oh, the retainer is…”

Otoki: “The retainer has just gone over there for a moment.”
“This humble one shall take that hot water.”

(Otoki received the tea bowl.)
(The teahouse woman entered the shop.)

Onui: “Though our paths had not crossed for some time, how reassuring to find you ever in good health, Wet Nurse.”

Otoki: “By your gracious favor, this humble one remains sound as you see. And how fares my lord in his official duties? Does he still prosper?”

Onui: “You likely remain unaware... When speaking of my brother’s duties these days...”

Otoki: “What? He holds no post?”

Onui: (With profound sorrow) “In truth, come year’s end last, he was ordered into house arrest. Wet Nurse—you must comprehend this.”

Otoki: (Startled.) That... well...
“Now that you mention it, when I paid my New Year’s visit to the mansion this year, I did think it felt strangely gloomy and quiet compared to previous springs. So that was the reason.”

Onui: "We hid it without saying anything since early spring, not wanting to burden you with unpleasant news, but due to these circumstances, he cannot attend to his duties and remains secluded."

Otoki: "Since Her Ladyship had no breast milk, this humble one entered service at the mansion and nursed Lord-sama until he reached the age of seven. Though born bright from infancy—never wanting in martial arts or scholarly pursuits—he grew into splendid adulthood, and in time was certain to rise high. This humble one rejoiced quietly for him... So how could this house arrest and dismissal from office have come to pass?"

Onui: "Well, as for the reason... If told to others, it would become a laughingstock—but if told to you, Wet Nurse, you would weep with me. My elder brother has brought disgrace upon himself through unseemly visits to Yoshiwara unbefitting a samurai, and by his dissolute conduct that has incurred the authorities’ displeasure."

Otoki: "Wh—Lord-sama visiting the pleasure quarters...? That I had not the slightest knowledge of until now. And this woman he visits..."

“A woman called Ōbishiya Ayai...”
“A deep entanglement since the year before last, it seems.”

“That’s utterly absurd!”
“Even so—why haven’t you and the relatives offered counsel?”

“No matter how often we counseled him, it pricked no deeper than a needle’s point. His misdeeds only multiplied until even the relatives could but stare in dismay...”

(As Onui grew increasingly dejected, Otoki too wore a sorrowful expression.)

Otoki: "That must weigh heavy on your heart."
"To think such a demon would possess our splendid lord..."
"How utterly heartless."

(The two exchanged glances and sighed.)
At that moment, a clamor arose from the temple grounds as Kumazō and Hanji—the same men from earlier—dragged out Otoki’s son Jūkichi.
Jūkichi was an eighteen- or nineteen-year-old farmer’s youth.
Following behind emerged Okome, a village girl of sixteen or seventeen, wandering hesitantly.
(Then came the same three girls from before.)

Kumazō: “Hey, you bastard! Why’d you go collidin’ with us?”

Hanji: “You’re nothin’ but a damn pickpocket! No use tryin’ to reason with ya!”

(The two jostled Jūkichi.)

Jūkichi: (Trembling.) “I got separated from my companions here in the temple grounds. While searching aimlessly for them, I became distracted by something ahead and ended up causing this mishap. I beg your forgiveness.”

Kumazō: “Disgusting! Disgusting! Do you think a mere ‘mishap’ settles this?”

Hanji: “If you’re looking to start a fight, I’ll take you on anytime—come at me!”

(Otoki, seeing this, intervened.)

Otoki: “Ah, gentlemen—though this humble one knows not what offense my son has committed, I shall offer an apology in his place. I implore you to grant him your mercy.”

Okome: “I too humbly offer my apologies alongside her.”

Kumazō: “You think I’ll forgive you just because some old hags opened their mouths? Get lost!”

“Hanji! Bastard! We’ll take that bastard all the way!”

(As the two men lunged forward, their accompanying girls held them back.)
(Okome and Jūkichi stood bewildered.)

Onui: (Rising.) “Ah, wait!”

Kumazō: “Huh?”
(Upon seeing Onui’s face.) “Ah—the young mistress of House Fujieda!”

Hanji: “As you see us steeped in drink, we must beg forgiveness for this disgrace.”

Onui: “He is known to me—would you not overlook his blunder?”

(Kumazō and Hanji exchanged glances.)

Kumazō: “Well now, if it’s Lady Onui’s intercession, we would never dream of refusing.”

Onui: “Then—will you consent?”

Hanji: “But of course... Hey, Kuma.”

Kumazō: “There’s no particular grudge here—not like we’re lookin’ to pick fights for sport. Well then, milady.”

Hanji: “With this, we beg your leave.”

(Kumazō and Hanji withdrew hastily.)
(The three girls of their company trailed after them.)

“Jūkichi, were you injured anywhere?”

“Since you graced us with your presence at just the right moment, young mistress, everything was resolved without incident. Thank you kindly.”

“Those two are craftsmen who work at the estate—usually quiet and honest folk, but they must have gotten drunk on cherry-blossom-viewing sake.”

“Though thoroughly drunk yet not losing their true nature, as they say—when they saw the young mistress’s face, they suddenly quieted down and returned home.”

(Kakusuke exited from the temple grounds.)

Kakusuke: “Mr. Jūkichi, were you there? In truth, I have just made a round through the temple grounds searching.”

Jūkichi: “I have caused you all sorts of worry, and for that I deeply apologize.”

Kakusuke: “No need for thanks. Young mistress, the weather has taken a strange turn—would it not be advisable for us to make our return now?”

“Banchō is a long way off—let us return before the rain starts.”
“You too, Wet Nurse and Jūkichi—find some time and come visit the estate.”

Otoki: "Yes."
"I will certainly call upon the estate ere long."
"Having heard what was just said, this humble one is overcome with worry."

Onui: "Ah—the particulars... we shall discuss them in due course."

(Onui signaled with her eyes; Otoki nodded.)
Okome gazed upward at the sky.

Okome: “Oh, it’s already starting to patter down.”

Jūkichi: “Probably nothing serious, but this must be Umewaka’s Tearful Rain.”

Onui: “The tearful rain falls everywhere...”
(Looks at the sky.)

(At this moment, as the rain begins pouring down in earnest, everyone hurriedly takes shelter beneath the tea shop’s eaves.)

Act 2

Near Mokubo-ji Temple, the entrance to a restaurant teahouse.
The upper stage area was slightly set back, with an andon lantern inscribed "Musashiya" hanging from an elegant roofed gate.
Green bamboo fences wound around both sides, and within the gate stood a cherry tree.
Outside the fence, slightly toward the lower part, there stood a large zelkova tree.

(The three girls from earlier, with hand towels draped over their heads and their skirts tucked up, stood beneath the restaurant teahouse’s eaves.)
The young acolyte Annen wore a priest’s robe and wooden-toothed geta.
Meganuri Uri Rokusuke held a pole hung with wigs, and they all took shelter from the rain beneath the zelkova tree.
The cherry blossom viewers, getting wet, ran out and took shelter in the upper and lower areas.
Everyone looked up at the sky.

“I wonder how far Kuma-san and Han-chan have gone by now.”

“They said they were going just over there to borrow umbrellas—surely they wouldn’t have abandoned us.”

“With those two, who knows?” said Girl 3.

Rokusuke wiped rain from his brow. “Umewaka’s Tearful Rain’s come pourin’ proper now. Hey monk-boy! Which temple’s yours?”

“Komagome Kichijō-ji Temple,” Annen replied stiffly.

“Heh! That’s some lame wordplay.” Rokusuke’s grin showed broken teeth. “Mokubo-ji or Chōmei-ji?”

“Mokubo-ji Temple.”

“So you’re the gong-banger from today’s prayer dance! This downpour’s ruined my wig trade.” He jabbed Annen’s shoulder. “C’mon, holy brat—can’t you chant us some sunshine?”

Annen: “Depending on the prayer fee offered, I could pray quite fervently...”

Rokusuke: “Don’t go getting greedy now. You can’t blink around modern priests.”

The rain grew steadily heavier, showing no sign of stopping.

Girl 2: “Should we just get soaked going back?”

Girl 3: “Even so—let’s wait a bit longer.”

(From upstage emerged Kumazō holding an oil-paper umbrella.)

Kumazō: “Went through hell gettin’ this one umbrella—that Hanjiro still ain’t showed?”

“We’ve been waiting since earlier, but we don’t know where he went.”

“Ain’t no help for it,” said Kumazō. “But we can’t keep waitin’ here forever. Let’s leave that bastard behind and get goin’. You three take this umbrella and head on ahead.”

“Heh—three people sharing one umbrella. That’s quite a sight.”

“Still, it’s better than havin’ nothin’ at all.”

“And then... you...?”

Kumazō: “I’m soaked through—reckless abandon’s all that’s left anyway.”

Rokusuke: “You’re being mighty kind to the girls, eh?”

Kumazō: “If it weren’t for this, you couldn’t get yourself a mistress.
C’mon, let’s get going, let’s go!”

(The three girls huddled under a single umbrella with parting retorts, Kumazō draping a hand towel over his head to lead them all hurrying away.)

Rokusuke: “This damn rain shows no sign of stopping.”
(He removed the wigs hung on his pole and stuffed them into his pocket.) “Ain’t no help for it. Get soaked, get soaked.”
“Fair weather, fair weather!”

(Rokusuke also ran off through the rain.)

As people gradually left, Annen felt somehow lonely.
Well, I might as well get wet and go.

(Annen looks around.)

(In the back tea house, with the sentiment of singing, it becomes a solo in hauta style.)

Song: Along the Eastern Road, where Umewaka left his sorrows—who called this rain ordinary? The pathos of love is Tiger’s Rain.

Annen: Even at this teahouse, they’re singing something rather amusing.
Worldly mortals carried away by blossoms—ha! What foolishness.
*Form is emptiness… Namu Amida Butsu.*
*Namu Amida Butsu.*

(Annen also departed.)
The time bell; faintly, the sound of rain could be heard.)

Song: Whether Oiso of ancient lore or Yoshiwara's pleasure quarter in Edo—both flowed into the same Sumida River. With petals adrift as companions, the capital's birds remained ever paired.

(From inside the gate appeared Fujieda Noriari, a twenty-five-year-old samurai.)
Ōbishiya Ayai, a twenty-one- or twenty-two-year-old courtesan.
Exiting while sharing a rental umbrella marked "Musashiya".
(From behind emerged Shinzō Ayatsuru.)

“The rain seems to have settled into a favorable drizzle now.”

Noriari: “It’s the unpredictable weather of blossom season.”
“It will likely clear up soon.”

“The bell that just rang must mark seven o’clock,” Ayai said.

“The quarter’s gate closes at seven and a half,” Noriari replied. “Returning now would hardly be late.” His eyes scanned the rain-slicked path. “Has your palanquin not yet arrived?”

Ayai: “Under the pretext of a minor ailment—claiming I needed to visit the doctor—I slipped from the red-light district around noon today. Having met Master here and spent half a day most delightfully viewing blossoms together... now returning to those gilded cages seems...”

Noriari: “Do you find it repugnant? If we speak of desires, they know no bounds. I too shall follow ere long...”

Ayai: “You will come without fail?”

Ayatsuru: “When it concerns Master, falsehoods hold no sway. What remains unsaid can be tenderly unraveled tonight...”

“You must come after me without fail.”

“Hmm…”

Song: Amidst waves parted again and again by the blowing wind, wings grow cold in the spring evening breeze.

(Four palanquin bearers exited carrying two palanquins.)

Palanquin Bearer A: Right away, thank you for your patience.

Palanquin Bearer B: The other palanquin will arrive shortly.

Noriari: Oh, fine, fine.
"If we three were to leave together, it would draw attention."
"I'll follow a step behind—you two return first."

Ayai: Then I shall await you!

Ayatsuru: If you deceive me, I shan't forgive you!

(Noriari nodded while laughing.)
Ayai and Ayatsuru boarded the palanquin and departed.
The rain fell softly as cherry blossom petals scattered thickly through the air.
Noriari stood holding his umbrella, watching them leave.
Ayai lifted the palanquin’s curtain and looked back.

“By six-thirty without fail.”

(Noriari nodded while still laughing.)
The palanquin raced away into the distance.)

Noriari: A woman's palanquin dampened by spring rain, with a blizzard of blossoms scattering upon it—truly a scene as from a painting.

(Noriari stood entranced, watching them depart endlessly.)
(From below, Jūkichi—barefoot and carrying two oil-paper umbrellas—ran out sharing an umbrella with Okome.)

“Is that you, my lord?”

“Oh, Jūkichi,” said Noriari. “Where are you going?”

“When I came to Umewaka on pilgrimage with my mother,” replied Jūkichi, “I happened to encounter the young mistress.”

“What? You met my sister…?”

Jūkichi: “Yes.”
“With this sudden downpour coming on, I went to borrow umbrellas from our relatives under the embankment.”
“The young mistress waits out the rain at Umewaka’s teahouse.”

Noriari: “Don’t speak of meeting me here to Sister.”

Jūkichi: “Yes.”

Noriari: “Don’t tell this to anyone.”

(Having said this, Noriari entered through the gate.

Jūkichi stood uncomprehendingly and watched the retreating figure for some time.
Okome also peered nervously into the gate.

(From the back of the teahouse, the sound of a song was heard.)

——Curtain——

Act 2

Scene 1

Kōjimachi Banchō, the residence of Fujieda Noriari (500-koku hatamoto).
A double-roofed structure displayed an armor chest in the tokonoma alcove, followed by staggered shelves and sliding doors.
In the garden lay stepping stones, stone lanterns, and trees.
Below stood a lattice door.

July 13th, afternoon.
(Two young samurai—one holding flower shears, the other a watering can—stood by the lattice door, watering morning glories entwined around the four-eyed fence.)

Samurai A: “Even during Bon Festival, the daytime remains unbearably hot.”

Samurai B: “But these morning glories at least must be watered during the daytime.”

Samurai A: “Since the vines have grown so vigorously, the flowers will soon fade away.”

(The lower-ranking retainer Kakusuke comes out holding a letter.)

Samurai A: “Oh, Kakusuke. You haven’t shown your face since before noon—where have you been loitering all this time?”

Samurai B: “You’ve grown lazy and shiftless lately—this won’t do.”

Kakusuke: “No, it’s not that I’m being lazy at all...”
“I went far away on my lord’s errand...”
(Wiping sweat.) “Well... It’s just so hot.”

(From the rear, Horibe Sanzaemon, the chief retainer in his fifties, emerged.)

Sanza: “Here, Kakusuke. Where did you go on my lord’s errand?”

Kakusuke: “Uh…”
(He fidgeted nervously.)

Sanza: “To think you would come before this Sanzaemon without even a word of notice…”
(He looked sharply at Kakusuke’s face.) “Now—declare clearly where you went on this errand. If you hide anything, I won’t let it slide.”

Kakusuke: “Uh... Well, actually...”

Sanza: “What on earth is that you’re holding in your hand?”

Kakusuke: “Uh... This is...”

(Kakusuke flustered and tried to hide the letter in his kimono breast.)
(Sanzaemon turned to the young samurai and signaled with a glance; understanding immediately, Samurai A and B moved in, forcibly seized the letter from Kakusuke, and handed it to Sanzaemon.)

Sanzaemon: "This letter bears a woman's script."
"Hmm." (He nodded.) "Now, Kakusuke."
"Have you forgotten what I have repeatedly instructed you?"
"Even were it by our lord's command, I had strictly forbidden errands to places like Yoshiwara—yet you prove yourself an insufferably insolent cur."
"So long as vermin like you infest this residence, our lord's conduct shall never mend."
"I dismiss you effective this day. Make your preparations accordingly."

“Huh? Am I being dismissed?”

“Of course,” Sanzaemon said. “Get out at once.”

“This has turned into an utter disaster,” Kakusuke muttered. (He looked dejected.)

(From the rear, Noriari’s sister Onui appeared.)

Onui: “Sanzaemon, wait. I have some questions for Kakusuke.”
(Glancing at the young samurai.) “Return to your quarters.”

Samurai A and B: “Yes, my lady.”
(They bowed and withdrew.)

Sanzaemon: (Through clenched teeth.) “My lady.”
“You mustn’t address yourself to such lowly folk.”

Onui: “But there are matters I must clarify.”
(To Kakusuke.) “Approach.”
“Does being dismissed today truly mean nothing to you?”

Kakusuke: “Nothing? That’s not it at all!”
“I’m in dire straits here!”
“I’ll be strictly cautious from now on—please grant me clemency this once…”
“I beg of you!”

“If you mean to apologize, I may grant forgiveness—but in return, will you now answer what I ask without concealing anything?”

Kakusuke: “Yes, yes. Since matters have come to this, I shall humbly lay everything bare from start to finish—root and branch.”

Onui: “What manner of woman is this courtesan named Ayai of Ōbishiya in Yoshiwara, with whom my elder brother has maintained an acquaintance these three years?”

Kakusuke: “Though I have often accompanied him and am aware of it, that courtesan called Ayai is truly a splendid figure. She appears twenty-one or two years of age—her features fine, her form comely, her spirit generous—in short, a two-star Nakanochō courtesan of Iriyamagata... You likely are unacquainted with such matters, but when we speak of a Nakanochō courtesan...”

Sanza: Enough of this prattling about trivial matters!
“You need only report briefly on the matters you were asked about.”

Onui: So, does my elder brother only visit that Ayai?

Kakusuke: “Yes.”
“The lord focuses entirely on that courtesan; likewise, she focuses entirely on him—a mutual obsession where she doesn’t even glance at other customers. It’s become quite the scandal in Yoshiwara.”
“However, for a man to be so deeply loved by that woman—it’s a stroke of fortune. The lord must have been born under truly auspicious stars.”
“It’s truly enviable…”

“Preposterous! Were I to let you speak freely, you’d spew naught but delirious drivel.”
“My lady, you must desist this instant.”

Onui: “Oh, wait! If such rumors have spread about her, Ayai—or whatever they call her—can hardly maintain her trade. Yet she still works as before?”

Kakusuke: “Well, you see... Since other customers stopped approaching her, the woman’s debts naturally increased, and the lord faced unreasonable strain—such was the logic of it—until matters reached an impasse. To tell the truth...” (leaning in and lowering his voice) “The courtesan fled her establishment on the last day of last month and went to the honorable wet nurse in Minowa...”

“What? They say Ayai has fled Yoshiwara and hides at the wet nurse’s place in Minowa?”

“This exceeds all bounds of propriety!”
“After years of receiving honorable favor, to withhold counsel at such an hour—nay, to shelter a runaway courtesan instead—is unconscionable! Detestable creature!”
“I shall forthwith go to Minowa, sternly discipline that wet nurse, and without delay expel that woman—this being for our lord’s benefit.”
“Kakusuke—lead the way.”

(As Sanzaemon started to rise, grasping his sword, Onui stopped him.)

Onui: “Now, now—there’s no need to hurry. Since this matter has come to light, we should consult with Uncle from Ichigaya as well—there must be a proper way to handle it.”

“Indeed,” said Sanzaemon. “Since we had already requested the Lord of Ichigaya’s concern regarding this matter, it might indeed be prudent to at least consult him.” He turned sharply. “Now then, Kakusuke.” His voice hardened. “That’s enough—be gone.”

“Yes, yes,” Kakusuke bobbed his head. “Might there be no further business for this humble one?”

Onui: “You should retire to your room and rest.”

“Yes, yes.”

(Kakusuke leaves with a sigh of relief.)

(The two exchanged glances.)

Sanzaemon: "My lady."
"The situation has grown increasingly troublesome."

"I am utterly vexed," said Onui.
"If my elder brother is so deeply attached, there might still be a way to manage this—but whatever one says, the woman he’s involved with is a courtesan."

Sanzaemon: "That is indeed so…"
"Even among townspeople, well-respected households do not allow women from Yoshiwara to even set foot at their gate."
"All the more so for a shogunal hatamoto—a difference in status beyond comparison. Utterly unthinkable."
(He shook his head.)

“Well, the difference in status is too great. Even if we were to consent, the many relatives would not.”

“Even if the honorable relatives were to consent, society as a whole will not. First, the disgrace to our house—it cannot be justified to our honorable ancestors.”

(Onui, too, was at a loss.)

(Fujieda Noriari entered from the inner room.)

Onui: "Oh... Brother..."

Noriari: “Has Kakusuke not returned yet?”

Onui: “Oh...”

(Onui looked at Sanzaemon’s face.)

Sanza: “Kakusuke has just returned.”

Noriari: “Ah—has he returned? He must have brought a reply. Deliver it here. Deliver it here.”

Sanza: “No, I cannot hand this over.”

Noriari: “What? You refuse to hand it over…?”

Sanza: “Showing such things to you would not be for your benefit.”

(Sanzaemon took the earlier letter and tore it to shreds. Noriari flushed crimson but then reconsidered and sneered.)

Noriari: “Well now, you are the very picture of loyalty.
“Even should checkpoints be erected upon the path of letters, the passage between heart and heart shall never be barred.
“Your petty schemes to extinguish this blazing fire are no different from pouring water from a watering can onto scorched stones in the garden.
“Enough! Cease this!
“Now then, Sanzaemon—I require a small amount of gold. Have you devised no means to collect it from our fief?”

Sanzaemon: “Even if it be your honorable fief, imposing extraordinary levies beyond established quotas is an unthinkable matter.”

Noriari: “Well then—how about taking out unused armor, helmets, swords and such from the storehouse and selling them off?”

Sanzaemon: “Armor, helmets, swords—these are a warrior’s ceremonial implements. Moreover, as precious heirlooms passed down by your ancestors, they cannot be disposed of at your lordship’s discretion.”

(Sanzaemon stubbornly refused to comply.)
Noriari finally erupted in fury and took out a suit of deutzia-patterned armor from the ornamental armor chest by the alcove.

Noriari: “Here, Sanzaemon. What would happen if I were to take out this armor now and sell it off as I please?”

Sanzaemon: “No, as I just stated—even items belonging to your lordship cannot be disposed of at your discretion. The armor that our honorable ancestors drenched in enemy blood on the battlefields of Keichō and Genna—if I may speak plainly, it is a treasure irreplaceable even to your lordship. The Fujieda house’s 500-koku standing exists by virtue of the merits of that armor and sword.”

Onui: “Must I really say it again? Do you not know that armor and swords are a warrior’s very soul? Even if your heart has gone astray, to think of discarding our ancestral treasures so thoughtlessly—I find it utterly heartless.”

“The blood-soaked age of Keichō and Genna versus today’s century of peace—when times change, hearts change too.”
“The era that boasted of armor and swords being a warrior’s soul has long passed.”
“I too was once consumed by martial arts—swordsmanship, jujutsu, all of it—drenched in sweat and straining myself. But looking back now, what folly that was.”
“Today’s so-called warriors don’t know how to grip a bamboo sword or draw a bow, throwing themselves into frivolous arts instead—endlessly practicing ballads and shamisen.”
“Yet they still fulfill their duties splendidly, their houses prospering in this world where armor and swords serve no purpose—no different than decorative doll armor for May festivals or ceremonial iris blades.”
“Even family heirlooms—if someone offers good coin, I’ll sell them off without hesitation.”

(When he threw down the armor, the two exchanged astonished looks.)

Sanzaemon: “Though it is indeed lamentable how honorable hatamoto and gokenin these days abandon martial arts to indulge in frivolous pursuits, growing ever more indolent—others may be others, we remain ourselves. Pay no mind to such rabble, and may your lordship forever uphold the house traditions established by our ancestors...”

“Enough—you’re tedious,” Noriari snapped. “Don’t spout such boorishness. I’ve grown sick of your ancestral sermons.”

(Turning their faces away without engaging, the two could do nothing but sigh.)

From the inner room, the young samurai from earlier emerged alone.

Samurai A: “I beg to report.”

Noriari: What?
Samurai A: Lord Yoshida of Ichigaya has arrived.
Onui: Oh! Has Uncle arrived?

Sanzaemon: “Have him shown in immediately.”

(The two rejoiced that their uncle had arrived at just the right moment.)
Noriari frowned.

Noriari: “Ugh, meeting Uncle is such a bother...”
“Inform him that I am indisposed today.”

Sanzaemon: “No, no—Lord Yoshida of Ichigaya is not someone you can refuse to meet.”

Noriari: “Hmph, I don’t care.”
“Then say we cannot meet.”

Onui: “No, no, that simply will not do.”

(Amid their quarreling entered Yoshida Gorosaburō—Noriari’s uncle, around forty years old and likewise a hatamoto.
He emerged from the inner room in hakama trousers and a haori coat.
No sooner had she seen this than Onui hurriedly put away the armor.)

Sanzaemon: "Oh my, oh my... We did not even come to greet you..."

“No, no—this is a residence I frequent constantly,” said Gorō. “I entered without waiting for an escort.”

“Uncle, you have come,” said Onui.

“It’s a harsh lingering summer heat,” replied Gorō. “Is everything unchanged with everyone?”

“Yes,” affirmed Onui.

Sanzaemon: “You there, prepare the tea at once.”

Samurai A: “Yes, sir.”
(Turned around and exited.)

Noriari: “I have been remiss in paying my respects since then.”

Gorō: “If official duties keep one busy, neglect naturally follows—that’s mutual between us. I too have been occupied with official duties of late, but fortunately today is my day off. That said, being all alone at the residence would be tedious, so I decided to come out in this heat for a game after such a long time. How about it, Noriari? Have you gotten a bit stronger lately? Sanzaemon, bring the board.”

Sanzaemon: “Yes, sir.”

(Sanzaemon stood up and retrieved the Go board from the decorative shelf.)
Noriari wore a reluctant expression.

Noriari: "I have not approached the board for some time of late, so I am quite unable to be your opponent."
"I beg your pardon for today…"

Gorō: "Hmm. Your complexion seems unwell. Are you feeling indisposed?"

Noriari: "It is not that I am ill…"

"If you are not ill, let us play a game."
"It will make you forget this heat instead."
(He faced the board and took a stone.)
Noriari reluctantly took a stone.

Gorō: “Onui and Sanzaemon were never skilled at Go.”
“Watching something one dislikes is tiresome；moreover，having people nearby makes concentration impossible.”
“If you have business，call me as needed—withdraw to the next room without hesitation.”

“Then I shall comply with your instruction.”

“I shall withdraw to the next room for a time.”

(Onui and Sanzaemon exchanged a knowing look and withdrew into the inner room.)

Gorō: “Well, there are no others here.
Shall we have a leisurely match?”

(The two faced the board and placed stones.)

Gorō: “You there—what are you dilly-dallying about? If you don’t play with your entire being, this won’t be worth my while!”

Noriari: “Yes.”

Gorō: “It’s grown rather hot.”

(He removed his haori coat and resumed placing stones.
Noriari too had initially shown little enthusiasm but gradually became drawn into the game.)

Noriari: (Growing flustered.) “Ah, Uncle, that move is mistaken.”

Gorō: “What’s mistaken….”

Noriari: “This stone of yours is already dead.”

“Don’t talk nonsense!” barked Gorō. “How could this be dead?”
“But this is...” Noriari hesitated.
“Enough! Don’t utter such cowardly words.”
“You—clinging to your wounded pride after defeat—are the one who’s acted cowardly of late!” Noriari shot back, sneering.
“Cowardly? What do you mean by cowardly...?” Gorō’s voice dropped dangerously. “I won’t let that remark pass! Here—I cut this stone like this!”

(Yoshida Gorosaburō suddenly grabbed the sword placed beside him and struck with a draw-cut.)
Noriari dodged and struck down the Go stones.
Yoshida Gorosaburō slashed without hesitation. Noriari dodged two or three times, then grabbed the Go board to block it.
(Onui and Sanzaemon ran out from the inner room.)

“Good heavens—what has transpired here?”
“First and foremost, I beg you both to compose yourselves.”

(Onui and Sanzaemon forced their way in.)

Noriari: “Now, now—there’s no need for such commotion. Uncle’s wounded pride was provoked. For a private match between uncle and nephew to escalate from quarreling over mere Go moves into this unreasonable sword violence—how utterly unbecoming of Uncle’s usual demeanor. Truly, games of chance drive men to madness.”

Gorō: “You there—Noriari! You speak of games driving men mad, yet remain blind to how your whoring through Yoshiwara nights does the same? Three years you’ve squandered in dissolute living—this uncle has shielded you through shadow and light alike, but protection serves no purpose now. House arrest was ordered last winter, yet instead of reforming, your misdeeds multiply daily. Now magistrates take notice—whether you’ll be confined to solitary quarters or exiled to Kōfu, the clan whispers of nothing else. Thus you bring shame upon house and kin—a wretch beyond redemption.”

“Let this Go quarrel serve as pretext—one clean strike to end you, declared publicly as sudden death. Secure your sister a proper match afterward: no disgrace exposed to society… no stain upon the Fujieda name.”

“Then Uncle—was this all prearranged from the start?”

“Ah—this quarrel was contrived from the beginning. You think a samurai in his prime wallowing in senseless swordplay seems immature? Do not presume so! Though resolved beforehand, the human heart proves frail—this arm aiming to strike down my own nephew turned sluggish. A pity I missed my mark. Now Noriari—ordered seppuku... Commit seppuku properly. Your uncle shall serve as second.”

“With all due respect to your command—I value my life. Execution or seppuku—I utterly refuse both—”

“What—you value your life…”
“Repeatedly cowardly wretch…”
“If that is your stance…”

(As he moved to draw his sword again, Onui and Sanzaemon intervened.)

Onui: “Given Uncle’s usual temperament, this course of action is not unreasonable. However, even if it be confinement to quarters or assignment to Kōfu—so long as his life remains unharmed—there may yet come a time for his reinstatement.”

Sanzaemon: “As the young mistress says—though I speak for the sake of the house—to subject your own nephew to the cruelty of forced seppuku as a disciplinary execution is, with all due respect, too merciless a decree. Regarding this matter alone, Sanzaemon humbly begs your utmost understanding.” (Turning further to Noriari.) “Now, my lord. How did you take Lord Uncle’s words just now? As you yourself stated earlier, since childhood you have delighted in martial arts—archery, horsemanship, swordsmanship, jujutsu—each mastered to licensed proficiency. Indeed, did you not just now splendidly deflect Lord Uncle’s surprise thrust? If you apply your martial arts and serve with due reverence, your advancement will be plain for all to see.”

“For that, please reform yourself and completely put aside thoughts of the woman from Yoshihara.”

(Noriari did not respond.)

Gorō: “Onui, Sanzaemon—enough of this talk. As the vulgar saying goes—preaching to deaf ears. No matter what you say, it’s useless.”

Onui: “That may be so, but for today, I humbly ask for your understanding.”

Sanzaemon: “I humbly request a merciful judgment.”

Yoshida Gorosaburō: “If you all insist so vehemently, I shall withdraw for today. However, should he remain unrepentant hereafter, he shall not be permitted to succeed to the Fujieda house.”
“I must administer punishment!”
“Noriari, if you have even a shred of samurai spirit left, use your damned judgment.”

(Yoshida Gorosaburō stood up.)
(Onui draped a haori over him from behind.)

Gorō (tying his haori cords): In the Keichō and Genna battles, the Fujieda house earned martial renown—yet after two hundred years of peace, it has produced such a coward. As the blood of Mikawa warriors gradually dries up… is this the fault of men, or of the age?
(Exchanging glances with Onui and the others.) “Truly a regrettable affair.”

(Sighing, he retreated into the inner chambers.)
Onui and Sanzaemon escorted him away.
Noriari watched them leave and muttered to himself.

Noriari: When I said I valued my life, Uncle—steeped in his antiquated ways—raged beyond measure. But this demand to discard my life for house and kin—what unreasonable folly.
My life belongs to me alone; why perish for others' sake?
Were this life truly mine to command, I'd cast it away in glory whenever I choose—mark my words.

(The time bell tolls.)

Act 2

In front of the Fujieda residence gate.
At the front stands a roofed gate.
On both sides are wooden plank walls with samurai row-house windows.

(The lantern seller unloaded his cargo of Bon Festival lanterns and sat down on the komayose stone, while the water seller unloaded his lattice-roofed stall and stood.)

Lantern Seller: How's business, Water Seller?
"In this heat, you must be doing roaring trade, eh?"

Water Seller: Ah, not at all. Doesn't go half so well as you'd think.
"Besides, with all these dug wells round here, a water seller's got no call for his services at all."

“My business too’ll be done once today’s over,” said the Lantern Seller. “Seasonal goods have such short lifespans, you see.”

“We water sellers can’t exactly take it easy either,” replied the Water Seller. “Best make a few more rounds before sunset.”

“Well then,” urged the Lantern Seller, “go earn your keep.”

(The two exchanged bows and shouldered their loads.)

Water Seller: “Step right up! Step right up! Fresh water for sale! How about some freshly drawn water? Ice-cold!”

Lantern Seller: “Lanterns for sale... Lanterns...”

(Calling out to each other, they parted ways to left and right.)

From inside the gate, Yoshida Gorosaburō emerged accompanied by a single sandal bearer.
(Onui and Sanzaemon saw him off.)

Yoshida: "Since matters stand exactly as I have just explained, you must keep close watch over Noriari's person."
"A man devoid of spirit—there's no predicting what transgressions he might commit."
"Should anything prove beyond your capacity to handle, report it to me at once."
"Is that clear?"

Sanzaemon: "I humbly understand every particular."

Onui: "I earnestly entreat your continued guidance in all matters henceforth."

Gorō: "Hmph."
"Through his own selfish whims alone, he burdens even the entire household—clan and retainers alike."
"What a wretched fellow."

(Yoshida Gorosaburō departed with his sandal bearer.)
Onui and the others watched him leave.
An evening crow cawed.
From within the gate emerged Noriari, clad in a hemp summer robe and haori jacket.
The moment they saw him, Onui and Sanzaemon moved to block his path from both sides.

“Brother.”
“Where are you going?”

“Where I go is no business of yours.”

Sanzaemon: Have you still not come to understand Lord Uncle’s counsel?
“First, you must observe house confinement for the time being…”
(Grabs Noriari’s sleeve.)

Noriari (glaring): Whose order is this house confinement?
“I’ll go wherever I damn well please according to my own judgment!”

Sanzaemon: Huh?

Noriari: Fool!

(Having spat out these words, he strides briskly to leave.)
Onui clings to his sleeve to stop him, but Noriari shakes her off and strides briskly away.
Onui and Sanzaemon exchange glances and sigh.
The same lantern seller from before turns back and passes by once more.
(The mournful caw of an evening crow.)

CURTAIN

Act 3

Scene 1

A farmhouse in Minowa Village.
A thatched roof crowned a two-story structure with bamboo verandas—the upper floor housing a Buddhist altar, the space beneath it containing storage.
Torn paper screens, crumbling walls.
Beyond the bamboo-framed window upstairs stretched a lotus pond, while from the garden to its farthest reaches spread a field of crimson and white lotus blossoms in full bloom.
Below stood an entrance framed by rough-hewn logs; beyond it rose the sweeping boughs of an ancient willow.
Across the patchwork of fields, Yoshiwara's pleasure quarter lingered visible in the distance.

(On that same July 13th afternoon, a spirit altar had been arranged before the Buddhist altar, and a large cut-glass lantern hung from the eaves. A monk sat before the Buddhist altar reciting shelf sutras. The mother of the house, Otoki, sat in the lower area fanning a mosquito coil. From somewhere unknown came intermittent sounds of daimoku drums. The monk finished reciting the sutras and turned to face this way.)

Monk: "The memorial service has been completed."

Otoki: "Thank you very much. This year's lingering heat is quite severe, isn't it?"

Monk: “Today I visited seven or eight parishioner households in Yushima, Kanda, Shitaya, and Asakusa since morning, then five or six establishments in the pleasure quarters—it proved most sweltering indeed.”

Otoki found this area especially vexing—even by daylight, bush mosquitoes swarmed thickly enough to drive one to distraction.

(Otoki fanned the mosquito coil.)
From the back room emerged Jūkichi, Otoki’s son, bearing a tray with an earthenware teapot and cups.

Jūkichi: “Reverend, won’t you take some tea?”

Monk: “Ah, you needn’t trouble yourself.”
“My word—young Master Jūkichi has grown into quite the strapping lad before one’s very eyes.”

Otoki: Since my husband passed away last year, he alone has been my staff and pillar.

Monk: No, no—you needn’t worry any longer.
“Mr. Jūkichi, I shall arrange a good bride for you ere long.”

Otoki: "As for that bride…"

(Just as she began to speak, Jūkichi, looking awkward, motioned for her to stop.)

Monk: "So it has already been settled? Ha ha ha. Then you may rest all the more assured."
"Well now, this became quite the drawn-out matter!"
"Shall I take my leave then?"

Otoki: "This is truly most shameful, but..."
(She produces a donation bundle placed on a tray.)

Monk: "I gratefully accept your most generous offering."

(The monk took the donation, pocketed it, and while putting on his geta, looked back upstairs.)

Monk: “Oh! The lotuses have bloomed splendidly. It’s always so pleasantly quiet here indeed.”
Otoki: “Compared to the temple’s neighborhood，this place is truly countryside.”

“Not at all—the countryside is splendid,” said the monk. “Now then, I’ll take my leave.”

“Thank you kindly,” they both replied.

The monk bowed farewell and departed. Mother and son watched him go.

Otoki observed that the reverend remained as easygoing as ever.

“Since he praised those lotus flowers so much, when we go to the temple later, should I pick some to bring for him?”
“Oh, that’s good. That’s good.”

(The mother and son tidied up the area while talking.)
(A large group of neighborhood women and children were being led out by the hand.)

Song: Bon, bon—the festival lasts only through today and tomorrow; come morning, the bride becomes withered grass.

(The children passed by singing a Bon festival song.)
Otoki looked toward the front.

"The Bon dances fell out of fashion lately, but the songs remain as lively as ever indeed."

"They've been singing non-stop since morning, it seems."

(The sound of the children's song could be heard in the distance.)

Song: "Should I sleep with you, or take five thousand koku?
What's five thousand koku? Let me sleep with you."

"They're singing that song again.
They should really stop already…
Every time I hear that song, I can't help but get chills.
They say it first started being sung in the red-light district, but now it's become popular all around here."

"Here it matters not how popular it becomes—but should that tune gradually spread to Edo's heartland, it might yet touch upon his lordship's standing," Otoki said. "I want that vulgar song stopped posthaste."
(Sighing.) Oh, day would soon darken.
"Well then, I'll heat bathwater," she continued. "Now Jūkichi—mind you don't let that mosquito coil die out."

Jūkichi: "Aye, aye."

(Otoki withdrew into the inner room.)
Frogs croaked in the distance.
Jūkichi tended the smoldering coil.

The village girl Okome appeared in a yukata, peered inside, then slipped in furtively.

Okome: "Mr. Jū."

Jūkichi: "Oh, Miss Okome."

Okome: "Your mother..."

Jūkichi: "My mother is in the back—do you need something?"

Okome: "No—it is not your mother I need to ask, but you..."

Jūkichi: "The matter you want to ask me so formally is..."

Okome: “To get straight to it—that beautiful woman who’s been coming to your house... Is she your bride?”

Jūkichi: “Don’t be absurd—”
(Glancing toward the inner room.) “She’s not that sort of person.”
“For starters—there’s an age difference between us...”

Okome: “Even with an age gap, plenty in this world take older wives.”
“Especially someone as beautiful as that...”

Jūkichi: “That’s just your baseless suspicion.”
“She’s here under unavoidable circumstances—entrusted to us by a certain someone.”

“No no—that’s lies!”
“You’ve been tricking me all along—went and took some pretty bride behind my back!”
(Okome wept.)

Jūkichi: (Flustered) “We ain’t done no fancy weddin’, sure—but both our folks know we’re set to marry proper-like.”
“Why’d I go takin’ another bride?”
“Add it up—clear as daylight!”

“Then tell me clearly—what manner of person is she, and from whom and where did you take her in?”

(She pressed closer.)

Jūkichi: "Well... That person..."
(He glanced warily toward the inner room.)

Okome: "That can't be spoken of—it mustn't be spoken of."
(Wiping tears.) "For three years now—how dare you keep deceiving me like this!"
"This resentment burns fierce—"
"You'd better remember this."

(Okome struck Jūkichi with the hand towel she held and ran toward the lotus pond, attempting to leap in.)
(Jūkichi jumped down from the veranda and grabbed her to stop her.)

“What an outrageous thing to do—!” Jūkichi exclaimed. “Wait—wait!”

“No! Let go! Kill me—” Okome cried.

(As the two struggled, the sliding door at the rear opened to reveal Ōbishiya Ayai dressed in plain clothes. No sooner had she taken in the scene than she too rushed out to support Okome, pulling her back to the veranda alongside Jūkichi.)
(Okome collapsed in tears.)

Ayai: “Mr. Jū, this child...”

Jūkichi: (Awkwardly.) “This here’s Okome... A girl from the neighborhood...”

Ayai (magnanimously): “Now, Miss Okome—there’s truly no need for tears or anger.”
“I am not someone who would become Mr. Jū’s bride. Though appearances may suggest otherwise, I have another splendid man elsewhere.”
“To dispel your doubts, I’ll lay everything bare—that popular ditty these days... ‘Shall I sleep with you or claim five thousand koku? Ah, forget the koku—let me sleep with you!’ From the pleasure quarters to these very parts, when people sing those words—they’re singing of my circumstances.”

Okome: “Oh...”

Ayai: “The man has five hundred koku—rumors puff it to five thousand, like garnishing sushi with extra roe. Having known such depths with him, could this humble one now become another’s bride? There now—do you understand?”

(Ayai looked at Okome's face.)
(Okome finally nodded.)

Jūkichi: "Since things have come to this, I'll speak plainly—as you've long known, my mother once served at the Banchō estate, and at the lord's request, we've been sheltering this person here since some time ago. The idea of her being my bride never even crossed my mind."

Okome (wiping her tears): "If you'd just told me plainly from the start, I wouldn't have fretted so... But when things are hidden away, suspicion grows—that's a woman's way..."
(Facing Ayai.) "Please forgive me, Madam Ayai."

Ayai: “What reason could there be to apologize? If those suspicions are cleared, I too will rejoice. You seem to have an understanding with Mr. Jū—do live together in harmony.”

Okome: “Yes.”

(She bashfully bowed her head.)
(Ayai stared intently at both their faces.)

Ayai: “How enviable you two are. Even should we spend our lives unknown beneath a thatched roof—so long as lovers stay united, there’s worth in living. Yet those who deck themselves in splendid blossoms as their wares and are praised as reigning beauties among lords lofty as pines—what end awaits them? Truly, fortune and misfortune walk hand in hand through every life.”

(The two, unable to grasp the meaning, exchanged glances.)
(Otoki emerged from the inner room.)

Otoki: “Jūkichi. How about going to fetch them from the temple before it gets dark?”

Ayai: “Indeed, today is the thirteenth of Bon...” (Pondering.) “Where might that temple be?”

Jūkichi: “Since it’s near Ueno, it ain’t all that far.”

“Shall I go along too?”

Otoki: “Then please go offer prayers in my stead.”

(Jūkichi went to the edge of the pond and plucked flowers.)

Jūkichi: “Ma, is this about enough?”

Otoki: “Oh, that will do. If you need more later, I can bring you more.”

“If I may be so bold—might I trouble you to pick some of those flowers for me as well while you’re at it?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

(As Jūkichi plucked four or five white lotus flowers and handed them to Ayai, she acknowledged them with a nod and took them in hand.)

Ayai: “Among flowers, the white lotus is a noble and beautiful blossom.”

(She gazed intently at them.)

Jūkichi: Well then, Ma.

“I’ll be on my way,” said Okome.

Otoki watched them prepare to leave. “Night will have fallen by your return,” she cautioned. “Take care on the road.”

Jūkichi departed with Okome, lotus blossoms clutched in his work-roughened hands. Ayai stood motionless at the veranda’s edge, following their figures until they disappeared down the dirt path.

“How harmoniously they move together,” Ayai murmured, her courtesan-trained voice lilting like wind chimes. “Like paired swallows in flight.”

Otoki wiped her hands on her apron, eyes darting to check for eavesdroppers. “Children playing at adulthood,” she sniffed. When she spoke again, her tone stiffened with forced deference: “My lady Ayai... There are matters we must discuss.”

“What could be so formal about it now?”

(Ayai placed lotus flowers into the bucket left at the edge of the bamboo veranda and returned to her seat.)

Otoki: “Though Your Ladyship and I have only recently become acquainted—with no occasion for intimate discourse—this humble one once served at the Banchō estate, where I nursed Lord Fujieda as an infant. Through that bond, I have maintained ties to this day. Three years past, when Your Ladyship and His Lordship grew close—when you fled the Yoshiwara and begged shelter in my home at this month’s start—did you know what calamities would thereby befall him?”

Ayai: “I have known that for some time. As his brothel visits grew frequent, it naturally displeased the authorities—my lord himself told me he’d been ordered into house arrest.”

Otoki: “That house arrest since last year... yet his conduct remains unchanged. Now the relatives conspire to confine him to a cell-room soon.”
“If this affair were exposed at such a juncture—what calamity might follow? These nights find me sleepless with dread...”
“All this concerns the honor of a 500-koku house...”
“My lady, you must see reason.”
(Pleading tearfully.)

“Then are you saying,” Ayai challenged, her voice sharpening like a drawn hairpin, “that if I cling to my lord and bring him hardship forevermore, I should sever myself from him?”

Otoki’s fingers twisted in her apron. “This is... difficult to voice,” she began, eyes fixed on the warped floorboards, “but if you would only heed reason and return to the quarter...”

Ayai: “Ohoho. Indeed, in your heart, the 500-koku household may be paramount—but how do you hear this popular song of late that sings of my lord and my love? ‘What’s 5,000 koku? Let me lie with you…’ 500 koku or 1,000 koku are but face-powder water down the gutter—just the same. Even a million koku cannot purchase a courtesan’s truth.”

(Otoki stared at her in astonishment.)

Ayai: (with mounting pride) If you think such a precious woman's truth was bought with five hundred koku, isn’t that a steal?
Ayai: “Our mutual passion binds us in karma—no matter what tomorrow brings, don’t you dare resent me.”

Otoki: “Then... even if it costs His Lordship’s life...”

Ayai: “If Lord dies, I simply die too.”
“He fell to this state for my sake, as I did for his—we’re equally to blame. Place us on scales, and you’ll find no difference in weight.”
“To lay all fault at my feet—how utterly self-serving of you.”

(Berated relentlessly, Otoki found no ground to stand on and could only bow her head in silence.)
(The sound of Sensō-ji Temple’s bell resonated.)

Ayai: “The bell that just rang is Asakusa’s sixth hour of dusk...”
“Ma, has the bathwater boiled?”

Otoki: “Oh! I had completely forgotten, but the water had already boiled.”
“Especially given your circumstances of living in obscurity, my lady, staying too long near the edge would...”

“Then shall I cleanse myself with a bath to wash away this heat?”

(Ayai rose and entered the inner room.)

The courtesans of Yoshiwara were truly such arrogant and strong-willed creatures.
Given her current terrifying resolve—no matter how much I fretted—the thought of severing ties with His Lordship and returning to the quarter never even crossed my mind.
Ah, what a predicament this was indeed.
(Lost in thought, she gazed out front.) Oh—when had night fallen?
Well, I suppose I should light the welcoming fire.

(Otoki brought an earthenware brazier filled with hemp stalks from the inner room, went out to the gate, struck a flint to light the welcoming fire, and transferred the flames to a lantern.) As the hemp stalks finally caught fire, Otoki faced the flames and bowed in prayer. The sound of insects could be heard.

Fujieda Noriari stealthily emerged and stood amidst the smoke of the welcoming fire.
Otoki peered through the smoke.

Otoki: “Oh! Lord...”
“Because your robes are white, I thought you were a ghost.”

Noriari: “Ah, I might indeed be a ghost.”
“Even if my soul lives on, this body is already dead—Noriari.”
“I wandered here, drawn by the smoke of the welcoming fire.”
(With a lonely, bitter smile, he entered inside.)

Otoki: “There is no one else here.”
“Please do not stand on ceremony—come right through.”

(Noriari nodded and stepped up onto the veranda.)
(Otoki extinguished the welcoming fire with water from a bucket before entering inside as well.)

Otoki: “These bush mosquitoes are truly dreadful.”
(Fanned herself with a round fan.)

Noriari: “No need to trouble yourself, no need.”
(Opening and using a white fan.) “Now then, Wet Nurse.”
“This matter concerning her has become quite complicated indeed.”

Otoki: “Your kind words overwhelm this humble one.”
“However cramped this place may be—with only a parent and child here and no one else to help—we cannot possibly provide adequate care.”

Noriari: “By the way—is Jūkichi out?”

Otoki: “Yes. He has been visiting the temple since evening.”

Noriari: “When I last came he was regrettably absent too—our paths keep missing these days. Has anything changed with him?”

Otoki: “By your gracious concern, he remains well.”

Noriari: “That gladdens me doubly. Jūkichi and I share a milk-brother bond—to hear of his health brings joy.”

Otoki: “Your kindness honors us.”

(From the inner room emerged Ayai—bathed radiant in evening cosmetics, robes changed—settling joyfully beside Noriari.)

Ayai: "Well now, you came after all."
"Oh ho ho ho."
Try as I might to conceal it, this Yoshiwara accent keeps slipping out.
"I beg you to forgive this."

Noriari: “Ah, that Yoshiwara accent of yours is what’s charming.”
“But none shall notice us hiding here.”

Ayai: “As they say—darkest beneath the lighthouse. Even here beneath its glow, none seem to take notice.”

“Otoki! Oh... Darkness falls—yet you leave the lantern unlit still...”
“I shall fetch it at once.”

(Otoki withdrew from the scene and entered the inner chambers.)

Ayai: “Tell me—did you read that letter from earlier?”

Noriari: “Nay—torn asunder ere I could glimpse its contents.”

Ayai: “Torn… By whom…?”

Noriari: “That retainer Sanzaemon snatched it from my side and tore it to shreds. That hateful cur…”

Ayai: “Though it wasn’t such an important letter… To tear it up like that goes beyond cruelty…”
“Then even your retainers block the passage of letters?”

Noriari: “Ah—the retainers of course! My uncle, sister, all the clan relatives—they rally together to sunder us apart.
Enemies on every side.”

Ayai: “I see—that must indeed be how it is.”
“Master, I’ve heard you’re truly to be confined to house arrest—is such a thing indeed happening?”

Noriari: “W-well, it’s not impossible.”
“For three years I’ve grown accustomed to you, and with my brothel visits increasing in number, my official duties have fared poorly—so the relatives are all worried, making a great fuss over things like seppuku and house arrest.”
“Depending on how things go, I might even be ordered by the magistrate to take up a posting to Kōfu.”
“And who told you such things?”

Ayai: “I heard it from the mistress here.”

Noriari: “Regarding that—what did the wet nurse say?”

Ayai: “She’s been so worried she can’t sleep a wink...”

Noriari: “Has she been worrying herself to such an extent?”
The wet nurse who had raised him until he was seven and cherished him like her own child.
Hearing of my ill repute, it’s only natural she worries.
But what good does worrying now do?
In any case, isn't it best to live this fleeting life with some semblance of joy?

“Or rather—speaking of interesting things,” Noriari mused inwardly, “the brothel revelry songs that usually feel close enough to grasp with my hand aren’t audible tonight at all.”

Ayai demurred with practiced grace, “Such conduct ill becomes you...” Her courtesan-trained voice softened apologetically. “Today being the thirteenth of Bon Festival, all establishments observe closure. You’ll hear neither shamisen nor festival drums.”

“Ah—the thirteenth...” Noriari’s reply carried distracted acknowledgment before shifting tone abruptly. “Though I ceased frequenting the quarter since last month—last evening saw Nakanochō’s herb market convene.” His fingers tapped an absent rhythm on his knee. “The stalls must have thrived as ever.”

“Truly they did,” Ayai affirmed, her gaze growing distant with memory. “That herb market evening two years past marked our first meeting too.”

Noriari: “Ah! When colleagues invited me to my first-ever visit to Yoshiwara—wandering aimlessly through that herb market crowd where you couldn’t turn around—your sleeve caught on my sword hilt as you approached from the opposite direction. As I frantically pressed down to keep it from slipping free, in that fluster I ended up grabbing and holding even your sleeve itself.”
“When our eyes met then—the start of our acquaintance, the dawn of love—isn’t fate a mysterious thing?”

Ayai: “That night was more bustling than usual—samurai passing through the Great Gate in droves, courtesans venturing out to see the sights in Nakanochō in equal number. Amidst that great crowd, for Master and me to have chanced upon each other... it must surely speak of a profound bond.”

Noriari: “This is the sword from that time…”
(He gazes at his sword.) Forged by Kunitoshi... passed down through generations...
The ancestors had used this to gain military fame—so I’d been told time and again by the elders.

Ayai: “That blade which binds us—won’t you let me see it properly?”
(Receiving the sword and examining it still sheathed.) “If one were cut by a fine blade like this, one could die in a single stroke, could one not?”

Noriari: “Ah—if one is cut by a well-forged blade, there’s neither bitterness nor pain.”

Ayai: “Whether one is cut or stabbed... without bitterness...”

Noriari: “One can die with but a single resolve.”

As he spoke and tried to take back the sword, Ayai gripped the scabbard and would not release it.
They exchanged glances and for a moment remained wordless.

At this moment, an itinerant Shinnai performer emerged holding a shamisen and stood at the gate of this house.

Shinnai Ballad: ♪ All those pledge papers you two exchanged now lie futile—/ If you’re resolved to die regardless,/ Why not say you’ll cross the Sanzu River hand-in-hand together? ♪

As these lines were recited at the gate, Noriari took his sword and placed it by his side, and the two listened silently to the song.
During this time, though they did not speak to each other, they resolved to die; Ayai brought a lotus branch that had been placed in a wooden pail, struck it against the veranda to scatter the flowers, and looked at Noriari as if to say, "Like this..."
Noriari nodded.
From the inner room, Otoki came out carrying a paper lantern.

Otoki: “My hands are occupied, you see.”

(The Shinnai performer stopped singing and left while playing the itinerant shamisen.)

Otoki: “Since the red-light district is closed for the Bon holiday tonight, an itinerant Shinnai performer has come all the way out here.”
(Muttering to herself, she placed the paper lantern beside the two of them.)

Noriari: “Listen, wet nurse.
“I’m truly sorry to trouble you, but could you prepare some food and drink?”

Otoki: “Yes, yes.
“Understood.”

Noriari (Taking out money from his paper case): “Here, I entrust this to you.”

(Ayai passed it along and handed it to Otoki.)

Ayai: "What unexpected trouble this has caused you."

Otoki: "Since there’s nothing proper here, I’ll make a quick trip to Tamachi."

“There’s no need to hurry. Take care on your way there.”

Otoki: "Then I shall humbly entrust the house to your care."

(Otoki entered the inner room.)
The sound of insects pressed incessantly through the night air.

Noriari and Ayai remained wordless for a time, but Ayai rose to peer into the inner room.

Ayai: “The wet nurse left through the back door.”

Noriari: “Ah... So that’s how it is.”
“Though I said earlier it’s best to live an amusing life in this world, even that amusing dream will last but a moment—sooner or later, whether through house arrest or exile to Kōfu, I must endure this painful parting with you.”

Ayai: “Then... will you not die?”
(Speaking in a hushed yet forceful tone.)

“Will you die too?”

“No matter how fervently we may yearn for each other, ours are not lives that can be lived together. Since fleeing the pleasure quarter last month, I have prepared myself daily for death at any moment—purifying my body with ritual ablutions and never neglecting my evening toilette.”

Ah—this stifling world that seeks to torment people with pedigree and shackles of status! Like butterflies and dragonflies caught in spiderwebs—unable to drink the life-giving dew from flowers, their wings bound until they perish in anguish... Ah, what karma made me be born a samurai’s child? In the realm of the dead, there are no lineages or stations—samurai and commoners stand equal, self and other alike. Surely it would be gentler than this clamorous world.

“Then—were you to discard your five hundred-koku household as of this day—would you feel no regret?”

“Having discarded even life itself—what meaning could a five hundred-koku household hold? Whether the proud smiles of ancestors who splendidly crushed enemy forces in the Keichō and Genna battles while raising triumphant war cries, or Noriari’s final smile after battling all societal obstacles to uphold love and pride to the end—when reflected in a mirror, they would show the same face. There would be no difference in the satisfaction of victory.”

Ayai: “I was relieved to hear that.”
“You are an esteemed hatamoto, and I am but a fugitive—yet no life lives twice.”
“When we two stand at death’s threshold now, you mustn’t linger on household matters.”

Noriari: “Hmm—persistent.”
“Do you deem me such a dullard?”
“Let us cast off our ancestral home and build anew in the netherworld.” (He laughed.)

(Kisuke, a young man from Ōbishiya, appeared at the entrance and peered inside. Beckoning outward, he signaled Ihei and Tadazō—who had palanquin bearers bring out a conveyance—before they whispered among themselves. Kisuke opened the gate first and entered.)
Ayai peered through and gasped.

“Oh… You’re from the brothel—”

Kisuke: “Yes.”
“Kisuke has come to escort you.”

(Noriari and Ayai exchanged glances.)

Noriari: “Oh—you’re Kisuke?”
“What brings you here?”

Kisuke: “This being Lord Fujieda...”
“I must offer my humblest apologies.”
“Now then, Oiran—”
“I’ll speak plain here.”
“Do us all a kindness and return quietly.”

(Ayai remained silent.)

Kisuke: “Since you vanished last month’s end without word—though we’ve pieced together most of it—making this public would only bring others trouble.”
(Glancing sidelong at Noriari.) “We’d been searching discreetly through divided efforts—never dreaming you’d hidden right under our noses till this very hour.”
“Come now—no harsh words—return with us.”
“We’ll make discreet arrangements on your behalf...”
“Now, Oiran—”

Noriari: “No—I will not permit you to take Ayai back.”

Kisuke: “You do not consent?”

Noriari: “If Noriari indeed refuses consent, then return and report that to your master.”

Kisuke forced a chuckle. “Heh heh—this is no child’s errand. Well then, my lord. Will you not hand over the oiran?”

Noriari: “Hah—you understand nothing! Begone! Begone!”

Kisuke: “So that’s your answer?”

(Seizing an opening, he snatched Noriari’s sword. At this signal, Ihei Tadazō—who had been hiding outside—rushed in and grabbed Ayai’s hand, attempting to drag her away by force.)
Noriari stepped forward and threw them off.
Meanwhile, Tadazō pulled Ayai down into the garden.
Noriari tried to pursue, but Kisuke restrained him.
Ihei scrambled up and grappled with Noriari.
The palanquin bearers helped Tadazō force Ayai toward the palanquin.
Noriari desperately retrieved his sword, drew it and swung upward—whereupon Tadazō abandoned Ayai in terror. The bearers hoisted their empty palanquin and fled through the gate.
As Noriari raised his blade in pursuit, Kisuke and Ihei stumbled over each other in their frantic escape until they too vanished beyond the gate.
Noriari watched them go and locked the gate.

“An unforeseen interruption has intruded.”
“When I saw Kisuke’s face, I too was startled.”

Noriari: Cutting them down would have been easy, but that would be pointless killing—so I spared lives and sent them back.

Ayai: Even if driven back once, now that my whereabouts are known, it's certain they'll come again...

Noriari: If we linger, the wet nurse will return.

Ayai: Mr. Jū and Miss Okome will return as well.
(Looking into the distance.) Those two can live together as husband and wife...

Noriari: Is death so abhorrent?

“Not at all.”
“Hohoho.”

Noriari: Hahaha.

(They exchange glances and laugh.)
(The sound of prayer drums echoes in the distance.)

“Once more, while there are no obstructions...”
“Ayai, come here.”

Ayai: “Yes.”

(The two stepped onto the veranda. Ayai brought an aged half-screen from the tatami room’s corner, set it inverted, then took three or four lotus stems from the wooden bucket on the veranda.)

Ayai: “What I showed you earlier—the enigma of scattered flowers signifying our resolve—now that we’ve mutually unraveled it to reach this juncture, we’ll join hands and cross to the next world. Upon a lotus dais we’ll share half a seat, dwelling thus for thousands... millions of years...”
“Behold this.”

(Plucking lotus flowers, they scattered petals like snow before themselves.)

Noriari: "So this is the lotus dais—a Pure Land emerging from this world? No, how elegant and charming."

Ayai: "And what of preparing a final letter...?"

Noriari: "Are suicide notes just the complaints of those clinging to life, scribbling regrets for after they're gone? Or perhaps confessions from sinners seeking atonement—one or the other. Noriari feels no attachment to this world, nor any sins needing confession. Let mockers mock and slanderers slander—say what they will. Notes that sound like excuses serve no purpose."

Ayai: Truly, as you say—whether they praise or laugh, that’s up to the hearts of people in this world; it matters not either way.
“There is no one besides the two of us who could understand our hearts.”

Noriari: This world is a world of two.

Ayai's future—even that—is a world of two.

Noriari: "Ayai..."
Ayai: "My lord..."
(The two exchanged glances and burst into laughter.)
Noriari: "Make the preparations."

Ayai: “Yes.”

(Noriari adjusts his attire and draws his sword.
Ayai stands up, offers incense at the Buddhist altar, and arranges a folding screen before them.
The sound of Sensō-ji Temple's bell.
The cut-glass lanterns flicker in the night wind.)

Act 2

The rear of the same house.
In the center hung a rope curtain at the kitchen entrance; to the left and right were wooden siding and standing willow trees.
The sound of prayer drums echoed in the distance, mingling with the wind.

(Jūkichi and Okome exited briskly.)

Jūkichi: “Even if we hurry, the night road doesn’t get any easier. But it’s not yet the fifth hour.”

Okome: “Your mother must be waiting anxiously.”

Jūkichi: “Your family must be worried too.”

It was an unluckily cloudy and dark evening.

Okome: "All along the way back too—at every house they were burning welcoming fires and hanging Bon lanterns—yet somehow it feels lonely, doesn’t it?"

Jūkichi: "You're with me."
"There’s nothing to fear."

(They led each other to the upper entrance but came out again.)

Jūkichi: “Hmm, that’s strange.”
The front door was locked with a key.

Okome: “Since our return was late, perhaps Mother grew tired of waiting and went out shopping somewhere.”

Jūkichi: “That might well be the case.”
“In any case，let’s go in through the back entrance.”
“It’s pitch dark，so watch your step…”

Okome: “Right，right.”

(As the two of them were about to turn toward the kitchen entrance, the willow branches, swayed by the night wind, struck Okome’s face.
At the same moment, lightning flashed.)

Okome: “Huh?!”
“Something’s glinting…”
(Okome clung to Jūkichi.)

Jūkichi: “That must have been lightning.
“In autumn, there are flashes every night.”

Okome: “I thought it was a ghost light again.”

Jūkichi: “What? A ghost light…”
“You shouldn’t say such eerie things on a night like this.”

(Otoki exits carrying a sake flask and plates wrapped in a furoshiki cloth, peering at the two.)

Otoki: “Jūkichi? Is that you?”

Jūkichi: “Oh, Ma.”

Okome: “Where did you go?”

Otoki went shopping to Tamachi at the honorable guest’s request.

Jūkichi: What? The honorable guest...?

Otoki: That... Banchō's...

Jūkichi: Hmm... The lord from Banchō?

(Otoki silenced them and entered the kitchen.)
Jūkichi and Okome also followed, slipping through the curtain.
(The sound of prayer drums continued to be heard without ceasing.)

Act 3

The scene returned to the original house.
The inverted screen had been restored to its former position.

Otoki emerged from the rear. “I’m terribly late.”

As she spoke, she glanced around the area—then peered behind the screen and collapsed with a gasp.
Jūkichi and Okome came running out from the back.

Jūkichi: “Ma—what’s wrong? You suddenly cried out like—”

Okome: “I was truly startled.”

Otoki: “How could you not be shocked? Oh, take a look at that!”

(While crying and pointing behind the screen, Otoki made Jūkichi and the others peer suspiciously.)

Jūkichi: "Oh! The lord has cut his belly..."

Okome: "The courtesan stabbed her throat..."

Jūkichi: "This's turned into a right disaster!"

(The three exchanged glances, momentarily speechless.)

(Yoshida Gorosaburō exited, having his attendant Kakusuke carry a paper lantern.)

Kakusuke: “My lord, that is the place.”

Gorō: “Ah, so that’s how it is.”
“Lead the way.”

(Kakusuke takes the lead and comes to the gate.)

Kakusuke: “Hello? Excuse me.”
“Excuse me.”
(Knocks on the gate.)

Jūkichi (steps out to the edge of the veranda.): “Coming, coming!”
“Who is there?”

Kakusuke: “It’s me.”
“Kakusuke—the messenger from this morning.”

Jūkichi: “Oh.”
“Kakusuke.”
“You’ve come at just the right moment…”

(When Jūkichi frantically opened the gate, Yoshida Gorosaburō strode inside.)

Gorō: “You there—is Lord Geki present?”

Otoki: “Ah! Could this be the Lord of Ichigaya?”
“Matters have reached a most wretched state.”
(She pointed at the screen and wept.)

Gorō: “What? What has Lord Geki done?”

(Yoshida Gorosaburō mounted the veranda and peered behind the screen. After a sharp intake of breath, he stepped fully inside to examine the two corpses before reappearing.)

Gorō: “From today’s daytime incident to the suspicious circumstances when he left the residence—acting on Sanzaemon’s report, I followed his trail posthaste, but never could I have imagined such an outcome…”
“A samurai led astray by lust—nay, parading this unsightly death-shame! Defiling his house! Defiling his name! Smearing mud across his kin’s very faces!”
“Utterly detestable cur!”

Kakusuke: “Then... could it be that Lord...?”

Gorō: “Unspeakable idiocy…”
“He committed double suicide with that courtesan.”

Kakusuke: “Yes.”
Gorō: “No—there’s no need to concern ourselves with such individuals.”
“Kakusuke, come here.”

(As Yoshida Gorosaburō kicked his seat and tried to rise, Otoki stopped him.)

“If I may, my lord,” Otoki ventured. “Your anger is wholly justified, but for him to abandon his five hundred koku household and sink to this state—surely such conduct cannot be countenanced.”

Jūkichi clasped his hands. “Though we’ve overstepped our station in speaking thus, if you would but take pity on your nephew... At least permit us to burn a stick of incense in offering.”

Kakusuke prostrated himself deeper. “As these good people say—for His Lordship to forsake his house and stake his very life through such resolve... There must lie circumstances too profound for words.” His forehead touched the floorboards. “I implore your mercy ten thousandfold.”

(Clung to by people from both sides, Yoshida Gorosaburō hesitated slightly.
(The sound of a song was heard in the distance.)

(Song) ♪ Should I sleep with you, or take five thousand koku?

Jūkichi: “Otoki! Did you hear that song?”

Gorō: “Hmm...”

♪ What’s five thousand koku worth? Let me sleep with you.

(Yoshida Gorosaburō tilted his ear and listened.)
(The sound of the song faded into the distance, replaced by the chirping of insects.)

――Curtain――