Pathway to Japanese Literature

The Airing Out Incident

I

The clouds advanced swiftly.
Spreading from the foothills like spilled ink, in moments they blotted out the sky over Kofu—the basin town.

Suddenly, it grew dark as an eclipse.

The hem of the bamboo blind was violently lifted by the wind, striking the eaves, while all the garden trees flipped their pale undersides and trembled—

“Oh.”
“Thunder?”

Takayasu Heishirō, who had been napping, dropped the book from his face and jerked upright—

“……Will it strike?”
“A rampage…”

Resting his cheek on his hand, he gazed through the eaves as if tracking cloud movements—and muttered.

—And then.

A white flash of lightning grazed the tips of his eyelashes—then the thunderclap roared across the roof tiles above.

"Oh, that’s a big one.—Guess I’ll have to head out."

Heishirō jumped up and immediately prepared himself.

Kofu Castle’s forest and keep had a history of repeated lightning strikes in the past.
Each time fires broke out, they accumulated bitter experience, so during storms accompanied by loud thunder, even those off-duty were required to rush to the castle immediately.

However, that rule applied only to the low-ranking guards colloquially called “banshū-banshū.”

Heishirō was one such member of this group—a carefree bachelor living in the guards’ tenement; however, his age was relatively advanced, already past thirty.

“Hey, old woman! I’m off to the castle.”

He bellowed toward the garden—

“If the fifth hour passes, assume I’ve stayed at the castle． Lock up and go to bed early.”

he said.

In the direction of the back garden where hydrangeas and fatsia plants were swaying like the sea,

“Yes. Yes.”

The old servant woman’s reply came, but when he suddenly noticed the armful of dried laundry brought in on the *engawa*, among which a single vibrant woman’s kimono had become mixed in.

“Hmm… Such a thing shouldn’t be in this house—”
“Old woman! Old woman! Where did you bring this in from?”

While he was speaking, the old servant woman brought another armful and placed it on the *engawa*.

Among them were items such as silk under-kimonos and sashes.

“Master.”
“That must be from the upper mansion.”
“They’ve been airing things out yesterday and today as well, so it must have been carried by the wind and blown into your garden.”

“Hmm… The Hagii family’s?”

Heishirō held the garment in his hand and muttered while looking at the embroidered descending wisteria crest.

The old servant woman also widened her eyes,

“It must be a garment they spared no expense on.”
“A Kyoto-dyed hem pattern—”

“A wedding robe.”

“It must be O-Sayo-sama’s…”

“This thing!”

Heishirō threw it into the garden with a fluttering motion and said to the old woman,

“Even if it came fluttering on the wind, there’s no need to keep this showy luxury garment here. Bellow from below the cliff and tell the Hagii family to come retrieve it.”

White lines of rain were already beginning to fall diagonally upon the hem pattern discarded in the garden.

During that time, the thunder continued to roar incessantly—

II

Kofu Castle was a flatland castle.

There was no castle lord.

The shogunate had appointed administrative officers—Matsuno Bungo-no-kami as castle guard and Miyazaki Wakasa-no-kami as deputy officer—both hatamoto with stipends around 1,500 koku residing in Kofu, who were tasked with guarding it.

“Hey, good work coming out.”

“Looks like it turned out well—doesn’t seem to be any major damage after all.”

The guards who had gathered closely together exchanged such words at their respective posts.

At dusk—the clouds broke apart, and the sky upstream of the Fuefuki River even showed a faint rainbow.

“This is why even on days off in summer, we can’t rest in peace.”

“I too thought today would be fine and went out to fish for sweetfish at Kamanashi River’s rapids—then came that thunderclap.”

“—Well, at least we’re safe and sound.”
“There are still three or four days left of our break.”

Normally, they worked two days followed by one day off, but during the Doyō period, they were granted seven days of leave each in rotation.

After assessing the sky, the off-duty guards departed beneath the evening rainbow, but Heishirō, while conversing with colleagues in the night duty room, found himself drawn into a game of shogi that had begun and ended up staying until lamplight.

Then, his colleague Saiga Tanji,

“Takayasu.”
“Come here for a moment—”

and urged him to step outside.

“What?...”

“You probably don’t know yet—even within the castle, they’re keeping it tightly under wraps.”

“You think I don’t know?”

“I figured you’d take pleasure in hearing this, so I’m whispering it to you—the librarian Umino Jinzaburō seems bound for seppuku.”

“Huh? Umino?”

“So,”

“What exactly is the reason for that?”

“For you, he’s a love rival—well, no need to hide it—that Umino Jinzaburō being sentenced to seppuku must be music to your ears. I also had a vague idea that there’d been conflict between Jinzaburō and you over O-Sayo of the Hagii family.”

“So Umino’s going to commit seppuku?”

“Well, it’s not officially decided yet, but matters have reached ninety-nine percent certainty… I’d like to tell you more details, but…”

He looked around,

“Right, why don’t we go to him?”

and urged him toward the shadow of the embankment where the Yagura Gate stood.

III

For about three days now, the storehouse officials at Kofu Castle—including those from the Weapons Section, Tools Section, and Library Section—had been swamped daily with the airing-out process as they engaged in their annual task of ventilating the storehouse.

The incident had occurred just yesterday.

As Iwase Shima, the storehouse magistrate, inspected items one by one against the ledger, Umino Jinzaburō of the Library Section discovered that one item under his charge was missing.

Moreover, it was among Kofu Castle’s treasures as one of its most representative items—a Poetry Scroll by Tosa Mitsuyoshi with an inscription by Konoe Nobutada, said to have been presented for the shogun’s viewing in times past and even coveted by Yanagisawa Yoshiyasu, the castle’s lord during the Genroku era. A mere twelve or thirteen sheets in total, it was a slender volume.

“That’s gone missing?!”

Those present turned pale,

“This is a grave crisis.
What explanation will we give the shogunate—!” they burst into an uproar.

Magistrate Iwase Shima

“Do not interfere with the investigation.
You must refrain from any disclosure to those not present here. Umino Jinzaburō of the Library Section is not to leave the castle until the item is recovered.”

Magistrate Iwase Shima issued the command.

And so—since yesterday，Jinzaburō had been confined to a room，and a secret，rigorous investigation into the whereabouts of the missing Poetry Scroll had been underway—but as of today，its location remained utterly unknown.

× ×

× ×

“The storehouse airing concludes in four days.”
“If the missing item isn’t found by then, Jinzaburō will have to perform seppuku. That’s the crux of it.”

Saiga Tanji smirked,

“I won’t speak ill of Jinzaburō in his predicament, but truth be told—he’s always putting on airs of a virtuous man, flaunting his pretty face, and never mingling with others. That’s why no one pities him.”
“Everyone who knows about this incident is saying that fellow’s been so distracted lately, floating on air over marriage talks with Lady O-Sayo, that he’s brought this disgrace upon himself.”

Just then, the fifth-hour drum sounded from the watchtower.

“Hmm, I see.
“…So that’s the situation.”

Heishirō merely nodded and listened, but Heishirō’s expression was by no means cheerful.

“Well, shall we head back?”

After parting with Tanji, he set off on his return.

At the Inui Gate of the castle, as expected, the magistrate’s underlings were stationed there, stopping those attempting to leave and conducting body searches on each one before allowing them through.

Heishirō, too, was searched.

“Has something occurred within the castle grounds?”

When he inquired with feigned ignorance,

“No, merely…”

Mumbling evasively, the officials avoided touching upon the truth.

Leaf-Hidden Love

I

Serves him right.
People must have their sentiments.

In front of his colleagues, he hadn’t shown such an expression, but deep down, Heishirō couldn’t deny having thought that way.

The two were bound by a mutual feud that would never be resolved in their lifetime.

O-Sayo of the Hagii family must have come to understand by now.

Walking beneath a star-filled night sky—he smiled a bitter smile.

If only that Jinzaburō weren't around—O-Sayo would have become my wife.

(It was just like this...a starry night like this...)

Even now he remembered it.

One summer, by the Fuefuki River, he had rescued a girl on the verge of drowning. When he rushed toward the scream of a woman who appeared to be a nursemaid, it was the daughter of Hagii Jūdayū, military strategy instructor at Kofu Castle.

The girl he had risked his life to rescue from the raging current—she had still been light in those days.
She had been an adorable girl of about fourteen, and he would later learn her name was O-Sayo.

(The girl's benefactor)

Thus, from that time onward, Heishirō had been treated with particular warmth by the Hagii family.

O-Sayo, too, showed increasing affection as the years passed, while her beauty blossomed into that of a young woman.

That was already seven years ago now.

However, what of the Hagii family now?

How does she look at me now?

It’s completely different from before!

For a time—though there had been no formal promise of becoming her husband—the Hagii family had all treated me as such, nearly voicing it outright.

I too had once held her in my heart as a future wife.

For that reason, I studied.
I strove harder than anyone else.
Military strategy, kendo, archery—so that even when I eventually succeeded Hagii Jūdayū,

(He wouldn’t be ashamed)

I had pushed myself to train until it could be said—all because that hope existed.

II

It was at such a time that Umino Jinzaburō suddenly returned.
Jinzaburō was a man who had studied abroad in Nagasaki.
Not only had he returned having amassed new knowledge—Dutch studies, Western military strategy, gunnery—but his family lineage far surpassed Heishirō’s. Above all else, he possessed handsome features, impeccable bearing, and unblemished conduct.

(Jinzaburō-sama, Jinzaburō-sama)

The members of the Hagii family all became enthralled by his knowledge and new stories.

Especially O-Sayo—as though visited by spring’s first buds through him—suddenly began to change even in her demeanor.

Before long, it seemed Jinzaburō had formally proposed marriage.
Without any objections, it was settled that the wedding would be held in May—or so the rumor went—but when Jūdayū suddenly took to his sickbed, it was postponed until autumn.

However.

For Heishirō, no matter how long it was postponed or what day it became, he was already nothing more than a stranger with no connection—even if you asked the Hagii family themselves.

As ill luck would have it, Heishirō’s residence lay beneath the Hagii estate on the cliffside, and no matter how he tried to put it out of his mind, the state of the mansion above would appear crystal clear at every turn.

Though he deeply wished not to live nearby with such lingering attachments, the samurai barracks beneath the cliff were so-called group housing—he was not permitted to relocate at will—

How many months had he lived there in bitter resentment—days devoid of joy—burning and rotting in secret among hidden leaves, destined only to scatter like a crimson flower’s sorrow.

Lately, he had abandoned his military texts and kendo training; whenever restlessness took hold, he would go into town and claim a stool at a tavern.
Because of such things, among two or three colleagues—

(Ah, well—just endure it.)

Or,

(O-Sayo isn’t the only woman out there—I’ll find a better one and show her.)

Or there were those who sympathized.

But in his heart, there was something that could not be consoled by such words.
Even knowing of Jinzaburō’s ruin today—still—there remained something that could not be consoled.

That was O-Sayo’s heart.

Why had she turned against him and leaned toward Jinzaburō—?
The resentment lay not in her father Jūdayū, nor in the family members, nor in Jinzaburō.

It resided solely within hers.

III

On his way back—that evening as well—Heishirō stopped by his usual tavern,

“Proprietor, cold sake’s fine—pour me a cup.”

He sat on a stool in the dimly lit corner, leaning his elbows in silence.

When someone behind him began whispering furtively, he casually turned to look and saw only the waists of two ronin drinking in a small room—about three tatami mats in size—with a screen placed between them, having ascended from the earthen floor.

“But we’ll have to head to Kyoto anyway,” one of them said in a low voice.

“That’s true, but…”

“In that case, instead of crossing mountains to reach Bushū from Okutama—taking such treacherous paths and making detours—why don’t we avoid Edo entirely and head straight to Kyoto?”

“Taking the Nakasendō?”

“No—since that’s the route everyone would consider, we’ll head to Susono, cross the Five Lakes, and push straight through to the Tōkaidō Highway.”

“Hmm, but no matter which way we go, we should meet with Lord Ichinōjō once more before—”

Just as he had started to say—one of the ronin—
“Shh…”
A hand that signaled with a glance and jabbed a knee flickered into view from behind the screen.

Heishirō pretended not to notice,

“Proprietor—today’s sake—is it any different from the usual?
—Pour me another one and let me try it.”

In the meantime—the two ronin reached for their straw sandals on the earthen floor,

“We’ve left the payment.”

They left in a somewhat hurried manner.

IV

Ichinōjō—he had definitely heard that name.
Strangely, that name lingered in Heishirō’s ears.

(In this castle town, those who go by the name Ichinōjō...?
……)

As he pondered this,

“Master, please try this.”
“I’ve tried changing the barrel, but…”

With that, the proprietor filled a masu to the brim with the next serving, brought it over, and quietly handed it to him.

“Old man.”

“Yes.”

“The ones who just left—are they regular customers here?”

“No, they were customers who pretended to rush in after the recent rain.”

“They seem like Edo folk, their speech and demeanor…”

“That is correct. But from their manner of speaking, it seemed they were staying at Kōtakuji Temple in Aonuma.”

“Speaking of Kōtakuji—that’s a branch temple of Ichirenji.”

“Yes, I have heard it described as such, but…”

He hummed... then nodded to himself in contemplation,

“Proprietor—today’s as well—on the tab.”

“Sure, sure—as long as you need.”

Heishirō wandered back home, but since he had told the old woman to go to sleep once the fifth hour passed, she had already securely locked up and gone to bed.

While lightly knocking on the door and trying to rouse her, he faintly heard the sound of a koto drifting from the lamplit shadows of the Hagii residence atop the cliff.

“Oh…”
“O-Sayo still doesn’t know yet, it seems.”

Heishirō looked up at the cliff and suddenly bit his lip.

The old woman opened the door with a sleepy face.
Heishirō entered the house and immediately,

“Did you return the woman’s kimono that blew into our place during the daystorm to the Hagii residence?”

“Yes, I have returned it.”

“Who came to pick it up?”
“I took it over and handed it to the servant at the back gate.”

When he heard this, Heishirō responded with displeasure,
“Who told you to have it delivered? Didn’t I order you to shout from the base of the cliff and tell them to come retrieve it? Why would we show weakness by taking it over ourselves? There may be differences in stipend, but if the Hagii family are samurai, then Takayasu Heishirō is also a samurai—idiot!”

And with that, he scolded the old servant woman—a rare occurrence—and lay down on his futon as though collapsing.

Kaishakunin of Old Grudges

I

The investigation appeared to be proceeding under strict secrecy.

Even the Hagii family seemed unaware.

(Three days left...
—Two days left...)

And somewhere in his heart, Heishirō counted down the days until Umino Jinzaburō’s impending death, morning and evening.

Even as he lay sprawled out reading, a devilish grin would suddenly rise unbidden to his lips—

(While I knew nothing, someone else had exacted revenge for me. It was heaven’s doing. When I thought about it—how cleverly arranged…)

he mused.

The koto’s notes drifted nightly—clear and unbroken. However one might hear them, they were sounds cascading from a pure maiden’s fingers.

"But when I consider it… how pitiful."

For an instant, Heishirō could not help but entertain the thought—yet he wrenched his heart toward cruelty,

(No—it's only natural.)
Compared to the suffering I've endured—

And so he spent the midsummer break days in secret anticipation—awaiting both the impending exultation and the sweet satisfaction of the day when that grand, all-encompassing dream would be severed, when O-Sayo would lament her fate—yesterday and today alike.

II

Today marked the conclusion of the airing-out.
It was the day to store away the scrolls.

At the same time, the investigation’s allotted days expired on that very day.

(Had they found it?
Was it still missing?)

Rather than the fate of the lost Poetry Scroll—in truth, consumed by whether Umino Jinzaburō would live or die—Heishirō was stationed at the castle from that day onward.

When he entered the castle grounds, even those who had worn unfamiliar faces before now openly—

“Is the thief ultimately an outsider or one of our own?”

“From the start, it must have been an outsider.”

“No—if someone snuck in from outside and stole it, wouldn’t we also be at fault?”

“What if the culprit is inside the castle?”

“Needless to say, we have no choice but to suspect Jinzaburō, the librarian.”

“But what would someone do by stealing something like that?”

“It’ll fetch a good price.”

“Do you really think so?”

“What’s more, it’ll fetch a fortune. If it falls into the hands of a Kamigata tea utensil dealer, even that single scroll could fetch several hundred gold pieces, they say.”

No matter which guardroom he peeked into or where he went, people were huddled together, wholly engrossed in that very rumor.

The lost Poetry Scroll—even by that day—had still not had its culprit identified.

Thus, Matsuno Bungo-no-kami, the castle guard commander, urged Jinzaburō, the librarian, to commit ritual suicide, promptly reported the matter to Edo, and then awaited reprimand from the shogunate.

Thus, that morning, the incident laid bare its full scope to all.

Jinzaburō will commit seppuku!

This must have also shocked everyone.

At dawn, before anywhere else, a messenger ran to his house.

Someone must have rushed to the Hagii house as well.

(What a waste of a valuable person—)

And there were those who mourned his talent and new knowledge.

(Drowning in talent—wasn’t that it?)

And so, there were also those who secretly regarded the whereabouts of the Poetry Scroll with suspicion, as if it were his doing.

The first half of the day was consumed by uproar, the afternoon saw the castle interior shrouded in a heavy atmosphere, and from evening onward, the entire castle lay in chilly night air—like the death seat of one condemned to die.

Amidst this, they all walked as if their heels never touched the ground, but only Takayasu Heishirō sat impassively in the Inui Gate guardhouse all day, never partaking in the gossip.

III

By the ninth hour of midnight (12:00 AM)—only about one koku (two hours) remained.

Since they had heard the seppuku was scheduled for the exact ninth hour,

(It’s getting closer.)

Though no one gave voice to it, even those in the guardhouse had fallen completely silent.

When confronted with any human death, it seemed everyone was struck by a sort of icy solemnity that transcended their usual hatreds and emotions.

"Mr. Takayasu, your shift has ended.—You ought to rest."

At Inui Gate, the rotation was conducted in groups of four, with shifts lasting from the fourth hour and a half until dawn.

Heishirō nodded silently and walked toward the rest area in the inner bailey.

——Then, from behind, someone came running and—

“Takayasu.”

Someone called out to stop him.

When he turned to look, it was Tanemoki Yoshibē, the castle official.

Yoshibē approached so close their chests nearly touched,

“Heishirō.”
“I hear you’re the top hand at test cutting in the Hagii dojo. … It’s an unpleasant task, but will you take it on?”

“What is it?”

“The kaishakunin.”

“……?”

“—You’d hate it.”
“No one wants to do it.”
“After all, it’s beheading a colleague who’s worked alongside you day in and day out at the same castle.”

“The kaishakunin for Lord Jinzaburō, then.”

“Mm.”

“If my humble self suffices, I shall perform the duty.”

“Will you do it?”

With a relieved look，Yoshibē said，
“Then come to the inner keep at once，”
and he led the way。

IV

It was a wooden-floored room beneath the armory tower, dark even in daytime. A single silk lantern, likely brought from another room, glowed faintly. "Lord Jinzaburō."

When Tanemoki Yoshibē opened the sturdy wooden door and spoke inside,

“Yes.”

A relatively composed reply was heard.

It was Jinzaburō’s voice.

Having spent several days without seeing sunlight while confined here in sitting, his complexion appeared paler still, his spirit somewhat haggard, making his usual beauty take on an even more tragically vivid clarity.

“Has the time come already?”

he said from the single tatami mat that had been provided.

“No—the time has not yet come—there remains over half an hour still. It concerns the kaishakunin.”

“I must apologize for the trouble indeed…”

“As Takayasu Heishirō has been selected from among the guards, I request your acknowledgment of this arrangement.”

“What?!”

Jinzaburō trembled to the very roots of his hair,

“Heishirō is to be my kaishakunin?”

“You may have your preferred candidate, but we cannot permit such liberties.”

“Ha….”
"But there is something I must ask."

“What is it?”

“Was this proposed by Heishirō himself, or…?”

“No, no—since there was no suitable candidate, we witnesses took it upon ourselves to make the request.”

As if somewhat relieved, Jinzaburō let his head droop heavily,
"...Ah, I see."

“Since there remains time yet, should you wish to leave any writings meanwhile, writing paper and an inkstone have been prepared there. Please make use of them as you will.”

“I would not presume to refuse your kindness.”
“To each concerned, I have already written separate notes since earlier.”

“Ah, so that is done.—Then—”

As Yoshibē made to withdraw—

“Ah—wait… A moment.”

“Is there still some matter…?”

“I have a request.”

“You may state it.”

“Though this does not pertain to me personally, if my kaishakunin is to be Takayasu Heishirō of such renowned skill, I shall steel myself to die with dignity.”

“Ah, those are most fitting words.”

“In that case, though it is most presumptuous of me, I humbly ask that you permit me to send a messenger to my wife’s residence to have the water robes brought here.”

“Well now, did you have a wife there?”

“Though the ceremony has been delayed due to Lord Hagii Jūdayū’s illness, O-Sayo—his daughter—is none other than my betrothed wife.”
“—I would like to request that someone be sent as a messenger to O-Sayo’s residence.”

“This is not something I can decide on my own authority.”
“Please wait.”

With that, Yoshibē withdrew.

**Water Robes**

**1**

“A messenger from the castle has arrived.”

In a half-trembling voice, the intermediary announced from beyond the threshold.

Her dimly lit room, though surrounded by bush clover doors and finely woven patterned screens, had confined within it both the chill of incense smoke and muffled sobs since that morning.

“...Yes. What is it?”

At the sense of someone’s presence, O-Sayo turned around, forcing her voice to remain firm.

“A messenger from the castle has arrived to collect Lord Jinzaburō’s water robes.”

Water robes—the unmistakable death robes—she flinched but continued striving not to lose her composure,

“Tell them I acknowledge their request and send the messenger back.”

“And the item—”

“I will bring it to the castle myself afterward.”

When the intermediary left, she stealthily moved to the next dressing room.

She faced the mirror stand, shaved her eyebrows, and dyed her teeth.

The fact that the death robes had been sent to her place meant Jinzaburō must have already reported her as his wife for the inquest and official witnesses.

(If I go as his wife, perhaps they will permit me one final glance at his moment of death.)
……If that proves impossible, then at least I shall bring his corpse back here.)

This was because she suddenly recalled it.

The castle was not particularly far.
Deliberately without bringing a single companion, she placed Jinzaburō's death robes on an unpainted wooden clothing box and walked resolutely onward.

She did not tell even the bedridden father anything.
Jūdayū’s condition had not been good since this morning.

Before she could even raise the ceremonial cup, this grief—tears like raging waves—had struggled to surge forth.
But she was Jūdayū’s daughter.
O-Sayo had been raised in the military strategy instructor’s household.
Her heart was already filled with resolve for the next crucial matter.

(There could be no wrongdoing on his part. Someone plotted to bring down Lord Jinzaburō. Even after his death, I must surely find the culprit and avenge him. That became my life’s duty…)

Avoiding the main street leading to Ōte, she walked absentmindedly through the town amidst the grasslands near Inui Gate’s rear entrance, the hem dampened by night dew as she moved.

Then—from under a lanky tree in the field—someone stirred, a figure moving to approach her from behind.

“Lady O-Sayo.
“Lady O-Sayo.”

he called out.

She shuddered inexplicably.

It was because she had immediately recognized Takayasu Heishirō’s voice.

**2**

After the messenger had departed from the castle, Heishirō also immediately,
“I shall substitute this specially prepared blade of mine—”

Having informed the assembly members in their waiting room, he returned home to retrieve his sword.

But whether that had truly been his purpose, or whether lying in wait for her there had been his aim instead remained unclear.

However, at a glance, it was indeed different from his usual waist sword—a slightly longer blade that appeared fiercely counter-striking lay there.

“I thought it was someone else, but it turns out to be Lord Heishirō?”

“It has been some time since we last met, but tonight I have been unexpectedly entrusted with a most peculiar duty—one unlikely to ever occur again in my lifetime. Both you and this Heishirō.”

“……”

She suddenly looked down at the stand of death robes she held to her chest,

“What is this strange duty you speak of?”

she retorted without shedding a tear—no, the moment she saw Heishirō’s figure, instead of tears, a defiant, powerful resolve surged within her chest.

Heishirō showed a faint smile, baring his teeth,

“If this isn’t a strange twist of fate, what else could it be? The role of kaishakunin for Umino Jinzaburō has been entrusted to this Heishirō here.”

“Gh—…”
“You… performing Lord Jinzaburō’s kaishaku.”

“Lady O-Sayo.
This Bizen Osafune I retrieved from the thatched hut—not to boast—cuts splendidly.
You may rest assured.”

“……”

Her tears finally broke through the dam of reason.
Shaking her shoulders and bowing her head, she involuntarily sobbed to the ground.

But those were not tears mourning Jinzaburō’s death at this critical hour.
They were more intense, rebellious tears filled with curses—tears of bitter frustration.

“You… Heishirō-sama!”
“…How dare you say such a thing in front of me!”

“What am I supposed to do if I’m not told?”
“Toward Umino Jinzaburō, I have neither a shred of obligation nor the bond of friendship.”

“But… those still-target cutting skills you boast of—who exactly taught them to you?”

“Hmph.”
“That was from your father Lord Jūdayū, wasn’t it?”

“Furthermore… that Bizen Osafune you just praised—who do you think gave you that sword?”
“Wasn’t it my father Jūdayū who… as gratitude for saving me when I nearly drowned in the Fuefuki River as a child—who gifted it to you?”

“You remembered that?”

"How could I ever forget?"

"Then—though I thought I'd take this to my grave without letting it pass my lips—Heishirō will say one thing."

"Oh, do speak it!"

"No... I'll stop."

With that, Heishirō, yielding to emotion, abruptly lowered his voice that had begun to rise,

“...How childish of me. Ha ha ha...”

When he turned cold, she instead flared up,

“You coward!”
“Spineless!”
“…….”
“Exactly so. Have you nothing to say for yourself?”

“Do you think I can’t say it?”

“Yes, I have no recollection of being told anything.”

“Then I’ll say it—Lady O-Sayo, you’ve toyed with this Heishirō quite skillfully.”

“Wh… Toyed with you?”

“It was before Jinzaburō returned from Nagasaki… Try searching your heart and remembering.”

“What is there to remember?”
“There are no such memories—deeply engraved in the heart—between you and me.”

“None?!”

“Yes… No such thing!”

“Then… then how many days—” Heishirō’s voice, trembling and pitched higher than hers, sounded almost effeminately shrill.

III

“I have not forgotten—” he said, abruptly covering his eyes.

“Yes—in the spring of her sixteenth year, when her father Lord Jūdayū and most of the family were away viewing cherry blossoms.”
“She lay in her sickbed with a cold, her eyelids swollen.—And when I, entrusted with the house during their absence, was happily nursing her… what did she say to this Heishirō?”

“I remember that matter… but I’ve forgotten those words.”

“You forgot?”

he pressed on in rapid succession,

“Then—that summer when we went firefly hunting along the Arakawa embankment—what of the words spoken while returning along that dark path?”

“We all went home laughing uproariously and trading jests.”

“What!”
“A joke?”
“….”
“Hmm… A joke.”

Heishirō groaned as if talking to himself and answering himself,

“So… you’re saying all these words of yours were mere trifles?”

“Could there have been any words I spoke that lingered in your heart as love?”

“Enough.”
“Ah… So that’s all it was?”

Heishirō, as if awakening from a nightmare, stiffened and emptied himself as he gazed up at the stars,

“Lady O-Sayo… You’ve made it clear.”
“So—she never once thought she held even a shred of affection for this Heishirō.”

“Yes….”
“Only that my father repeatedly told me—‘He is your life’s benefactor; you must never forget him, you must always feel gratitude’—so… how could that have appeared to you as—”

“Heh, heh… I see,” he said self-mockingly— “So that’s all it was?”

“That’s proof you made a plaything of me. But Lady O-Sayo—yesterday it was another’s plight, today it is my own. Heaven is fair—ha ha ha!”

“Are those words of yours meant to say, ‘I told you so’?”

“It was always thus.”

“I understand. So the villain who plotted such a despicable scheme to bring down Lord Jinzaburō is…?”

“What?!”

“No! It would be you! You didn’t confess under questioning, but you’ve let it slip through your own words—these very utterances now are undoubtedly your doing!”

“And if it were… what would you do?”

“I’ll no longer call you my benefactor. Though a woman—as Hagii Jūdayū’s daughter—I’ll bind you with rope and take you to the castle—”

“Hahaha.”
“With those slender arms?”
“You!”

O-Sayo hurled the costume stand she had been holding—kimono and all—at her opponent’s face, then in the next instant drew a short blade and lunged forward to strike.

IV

Heishirō barked a sharp “Katsu!” and countered her strike,
“Don’t try clever tricks!”
He twisted aside.
His blade-like palm struck hard at her wrist.

The dagger flew into the grass, her wrist seized by Heishirō as she lunged forward.

“The man you’ve fallen for is cut from different cloth.—I’d planned to use my duty as execution assistant to sever Jinzaburō’s slender neck and vent my resentment, fleeing to another province by dawn. But now I’ve spilled the truth, I can’t return to the castle.”

“Should word spread I killed a woman, it would shame Takayasu Heishirō for generations—so I’ll spare your life.”

“Hurry back to the castle and bring that precious Jinzaburō as your second.”

“For a fair duel, I’ll wait at Kōsatsu-ji in Aonuma.”

“Oh…”
“You said it!”
“...”

“Then clearly, the culprit behind the lost item is—”

“Now that I’ve said this much, you can infer who’s behind it. —Hurry to the honorable castle and file your accusation.”
“Once the ninth hour passes, it’ll be too late!”

As he spoke, Heishirō thrust her body forcefully into the grass.

――A woman’s strength!
Strength insufficient!
Overcome with frustration, she once burst into tears right then and there—

“Ah! Wait—”

When she cried out and tried to rise again, Heishirō’s figure had already raced away into the glimmering distance beyond the dewy grass—like a leaping demonic specter.

Along the Ara River

I

“What could have happened?”

In the witnesses' waiting room, beginning with that night's inquest, the officials exchanged glances.

"It must be nearing the ninth hour..."

"Heishirō hasn't returned either..."

“The ritual garments still haven’t arrived…”

Even as they spoke, the ninth hour scraped through from within the clock’s mechanism with a shrill whirr like that of a hair-cutting insect.

“We can wait no longer.”
“To grant reprieve to one condemned would make even our report to Edo a lie.”

One of that night’s witnesses—Miyazaki Ichinōjō, son of castle deputy Miyazaki Wakasanokami—declared this and was the first to step forward for the execution.

They were escorted accordingly,

“Well then, despite our best efforts, the water robes won’t be ready in time.”

“The short-sleeved robe is prepared, but who will perform the kaishaku?”

While muttering such things among themselves, everyone stood up, urged by the hour and Ichinōjō’s words.

“If Heishirō does not return in time, there will be no alternative—I shall perform the kaishaku.”

Among them, Ichinōjō was young—and with the natural vigor of his age, his declaration resounded.

However, as the second son of Wakasanokami—the deputy castle guard—his family status was higher than anyone else present. The elders hesitated slightly at this,

“Well, before troubling Lord Ichinōjō’s hand, surely there must be someone else available.”
“If we summon someone immediately and issue orders—”

“No—there’s no time left.”

Ichinōjō exited the waiting room with long strides and began walking toward the weapons turret.

Just then—there came a flurry of movement.

“Please wait.”
“Hold off on Jinzaburō’s seppuku!”

Yoshibē, who had come running breathlessly, saw the people gathered before the seppuku chamber and waved his hand.

“Why do you halt this?”

One of them sharply rebuked him.

“No—the culprit has been identified!”

Yoshibē’s words seemed like a scream.

“—We have been completely duped by that culprit.”
“We have let slip away someone who was right here in the honorable castle all along.”

“Then—who?”
“Who is the culprit?”

Ichinōjō’s eyes gleamed as he pressed the question.

“Therefore, we have determined it to be Takayasu Heishirō.”

“What? Heishirō—?”

Everyone exchanged looks of surprise.

“Then are you stating the theft was Heishirō’s doing?”

“That bastard plotted it out of spite for Jinzaburō,” Ichinōjō declared.

“Through whose testimony was this revealed?”

“Now.” His voice cut through the room. “The one who came to appeal at the castle gate—Lady O-Sayo, daughter of Lord Hagii Jūdayū—states this. Moreover, according to her account, Heishirō himself boasted to her about his vengeful deed before fleeing outright.” He paused, letting the weight settle. “There can be no doubt of its truth.”

二

Now that another culprit had emerged, Umino Jinzaburō was no longer under suspicion as the perpetrator.

However, the responsibility still fully remained.

That was to apprehend the true culprit.

The people's opinion came to an immediate resolution there, and they promptly took Jinzaburō out from the seppuku chamber.

Then, along with the witnesses, they immediately had O-Sayo meet them and meticulously had the truth heard from her own mouth.

“Then Heishirō said he would wait at Kōshaku-ji Temple in Aonuma if he intends to fight properly? Are you certain he said that?”
“Did he indeed say that?”

Jinzaburō repeatedly pressed O-Sayo for confirmation.

The people too, considering this point crucial, strained their ears.

O-Sayo answered truthfully,

“Yes, he said that leaving without seeing your death would feel like an unresolved regret, and then he fled.”

she answered.

“With that—if we make arrangements immediately—”

With that, the officials hurried ahead and immediately busied themselves with their preparations.

The pursuers’ numbers were swiftly assembled.

From among the young samurai who usually had little acquaintance with Heishirō, about twenty were selected, accompanied by three or four seasoned officials—with Miyazaki Ichinōjō at their head—and they charged out from Kofu Castle.

A step ahead of that, Umino Jinzaburō and O-Sayo were hurrying toward Aonuma Village. In this way, the two were in a position where they had to arrive before any of the pursuers—otherwise, they could not preserve their honor.

From the lower part of the castle town, following the Arakawa River while heading toward the mountains for about a third of a mile, there stood a single temple on a small rise to the right.

Although dawn was still some time away, the road lay bathed in a faint bluish glow from the water’s gleam and starlight.

The Big Dipper’s quiver

一

——A little ahead of that.

Having pushed O-Sayo away and abandoned even the familiar depths of Kofu’s nights without hesitation, Takayasu Heishirō—who had sped off—slipped through the pitch-dark temple gate of Kōshaku-ji like the wind.

He circled around to the priests’ quarters,
“Wake up. Wake up.”
He shook the door there repeatedly.
The bleary-eyed temple priest,

“Who is it?”
he looked up.

“I’m from Edo—” he said offhandedly,
“Are they staying here?”
he asked.

Without needing to ask further,

“Ah… You’re with the rōnin group.”

“That’s right.”

“Please…”

Immediately stopping the hand that was about to light the candle,

“Priest.”

“Yes.”

“This Kōshaku-ji Temple is a branch temple of Ichiren-ji Temple, huh?”

“That is correct—”

“Ichiren-ji Temple is the family temple of Miyazaki Wakasanokami, castle deputy residing in Kofu—huh?”

“That is exactly as you say.”

“So—the connection between this Kōshaku-ji Temple and the Miyazaki family isn’t shallow at all.”

“Yes. We are indebted to them in various matters.”

“The rōnin accompanying us who’ve come from Edo—aren’t they staying there because of that connection?”

“Well… I’m not certain, but in any case, please…”

“No—I want to ask you something. When did Lord Ichinōjō, the castle deputy’s son, come here?”

“Even this morning, he paid a visit.”

“Even this morning—huh. I see.”

“There are swarms of mosquitoes here, so please do come inside.”

“What are the names of the ronin staying in the back?”

“Huh… You don’t know their names?”

“I forgot.”
“Our acquaintance is still new.”

“One is Mr. Suga Umashinosuke, and the other is Mr. Hattori Taizō.”

“Where are they?”

“At the end of this wide corridor—the hall on the right end serves as their quarters. Shall I rouse them?”

“Unnecessary.”
“Hey priest—out here.”
“Step outside.”

“Wh-what is this about?”

Heishirō seized the priest’s collar and fixed him with a fearsome glare.

“Get somewhere safe.”
“Stay silent.”
“Make a sound—I’ll cut you down.”

Two

The two men had been drinking their way through Yanagimachi’s lantern-lit streets and, having just returned thoroughly drunk, now lay sprawled messily atop their bedding.

But Hattori Taizō, showing himself to be a man of no carelessness, suddenly—

“Hey, Umashinosuke! Umashinosuke!”

and pulled his companion Suga Umashinosuke’s ear.

Letting out a groggy “Ugh…”, he started to say something—then sharply cut himself off,

“Something’s wrong.—Hey! Wake up.
It sounds like the kitchen door’s open and there are voices.”

he whispered.

Finally, Suga Umashinosuke also raised his head,
“Voices?”
“Where…?”
“They’ve stopped.”
“Must be your ears playing tricks on you.”
“You’re the type to get spooked by the sound of the wind.”
“When it comes to making money, there’s no helping it.”

“Let’s depart tomorrow.”
“While we still have daylight.”

“But even with all that we’ve got, if we don’t have travel funds—”

“Since they said the matter would be settled tonight, he’ll come tomorrow and give us the travel funds.”

“Hmm…?”

“…?”

Both of them gulped.
A sharp creak—the hallway’s groaning traveled through the beams, making their nerves tense.

Just then—it was right outside the shoji.

“Umashinosuke. Taizō.
“I’ll give you your travel funds—show yourselves.”

“Wha—?!”

They jumped up in a panic, hurriedly clutching their large swords,

“Wh... who’s there?!”

“Just a local troublemaker. Need you to lend me your faces.”

Having heard him call himself a troublemaker, they took him at his word,

“Hey! Who gave you permission to barge in here?!”

The moment Umashinosuke slid open the shoji with a clatter and thrust out his face—

“Here’s your fare for the road to hell.”
“Take it!”

Whizz—the sword rang out as if a thin blade were humming.
Umashinosuke’s head, left dangling by a mere strip of skin from his torso, thudded heavily onto the corridor floor.

“Gah!”

Startled, Hattori Taizō tried to flee, but Heishirō leaped at his retreating back and, with a wham, delivered another strike to his shoulder.

With a groan, Hattori Taizō fell onto his back.
However, what he had received was merely a blinding strike—it seemed to have only dazzled his vision.
Heishirō hoisted Taizō’s body in his arms and carried it out of the kitchen, disappearing without a trace.

However, shortly after that, his figure reappeared before the main hall. Then, sitting on the front steps, he silently gazed at the twinkling white Big Dipper, as if waiting expectantly for something.

III

“Oh! There’s someone over there!”

The man and woman who had just climbed the temple’s stone steps—still panting from the ascent—stiffened in unison as they passed through the gates, their words hanging sharp in the air.

Needless to say, it was O-Sayo and Umino Jinzaburō.

In stark contrast to O-Sayo’s pale, sharply resolute face of desperation, Jinzaburō’s complexion had turned ashen, his body stiffened and faintly trembling.

From the moment he was taken out of the seppuku room—he had once again become afraid even to think of death itself. Especially after seeing O-Sayo’s figure, his lingering attachment to life—that reluctance to let go—had abruptly grown unbearably strong. Moreover, when it came to martial arts, he lacked confidence. Let alone against Takayasu Heishirō. Therefore, now—the moment they saw Heishirō’s figure on the main hall’s steps—

(Are the reinforcements still not coming?)

He unconsciously glanced back behind them through the temple gates.

Heishirō, spitefully,

“You’ve come!”

he called out to the man and woman from afar.

Once they were called out to, there was no going back.

“Oh! There you are, Takayasu Heishirō!”

Even though the man and woman rushed in from both sides, Heishirō did not attempt to move from the steps where he was sitting.

“I’ve been waiting.”

Having said that, with eyes glinting ominously—*Which one should I cut down first?*—he licked his lips as if weighing his options,

“Bound by mutual love, determined to share the same fate whether in life or death—you two have come chasing after me together.”
“But from where I stand, there’s a trembling visible in Jinzaburō here.”
“A Nagasaki-trained superficial scholar—even if she were to spend her life with you, with that posture of yours, the future would remain precarious.”

“Wh-what are you saying?!”
“Now of all times—this nonsense?!”

“Hmph… While we wait for reinforcements to arrive, wouldn’t it be safer for you to listen to this drivel?”
“Now—a word with you, O-Sayo.”

With that, he shifted his knees slightly,

“Laugh at me—what a fool I am, shackled by earthly desires.”
Taking every smile and frown of hers as I pleased—loving alone, agonizing alone, losing my way alone—and now here I stand, doomed to wander solitary through this life.”

“Enough… I won’t hear another word of your litany.”
“You brought the stolen goods here to frame Lord Jinzaburō! If you’ve any samurai honor left, you’re the one who should slit your belly!”

She pressed forward with fierce resolve.

With an air of utter disregard, Heishirō continued to say what he wanted to say—

“And so—this fool of a man—there were times I resented Jinzaburō and her from the depths of my gut. But day by day, the illusions I’d painted of myself faded… Especially after hearing her honest feelings in the grassland earlier—the object of my affection vanished like the morning moon. All that remains in my heart now is the memory of that thirteen- or fourteen-year-old innocent girl I once lifted from the Fuefuki River.”
That girl—even if she’s mocked, I’ll love her forever!
……I can’t help but love her!

With a voice trembling with strange intensity,

“Then—Jinzaburō’s wife—Lady O-Sayo—live well and prosper. And to you—Jinzaburō, husband of Lady O-Sayo—I’ll say this too.”
“Cherish her through the years.”
“Pity you’re the scholarly sort—even men outwit you, as we’ve just seen.”
“How then will you handle women in the long run?”
“With such a wife, infidelity would be unforgivable.”
“Should that day come—Heishirō won’t spare you.—”

No sooner had he abruptly stood up than—
“Then, farewell.”

With that, he abandoned the two of them and strode off toward the right corridor.

The Crime of the Lamp Dish

I

O-Sayo and Jinzaburō had been somewhat stunned by his cryptic words, but when they realized Heishirō intended to flee, they snapped to attention—

“Wait! You’ve plundered Goban Castle’s treasures and now think to slip away unscathed? I won’t allow it!”

Jinzaburō shouted loudly, leaped onto the corridor, and slashed at him from behind with a sudden strike.

With a sharp clang—he crossed the blade’s gust before his face,

“I left something unsaid.”

With that, Heishirō grabbed his forearm with a jerk.

“Lady O-Sayo.”

He turned toward their furious expressions as they moved to thrust and pursue.

“The missing Poetry Scroll should indeed be in the inner guest room of this temple. Later, search thoroughly through the bloodstains. For any remaining doubts, interrogate the rōnin trussed up beneath these floorboards—though I’ll seal that wretch’s confession and send two copies each to Edo’s magistrate office and Lord Matsuno Bungo-no-kami, the castle guard, by courier.”

With that, he straightened up abruptly,

“Ah, reinforcements have arrived.—And among them is likely guard Miyazaki Wakasanokami’s son Ichinōjō.”
“That one’s another ill-natured fool among the common lot.”

With that, he laughed again,

“Lady O-Sayo.”
“A maiden like you—innocent and beautiful—is like a painted lantern burning insects on a summer night. The lantern bears no blame, yet one cannot fault the insects for being drawn to their doom.”
“But a sycophant like Ichinōjō—even burning him wouldn’t be enough…”

By then, he had already slipped to the side of the corridor—toward the rear—

“Don’t let him escape!”

The pursuers’ voices—then an avalanche of footsteps—shouts and clamor.

"—Farewell!"

There was no time to even speak.

With a thunderous rumble… Heishirō's figure dashed to a corner of the corridor, nimbly vaulted over the railing, cut down two or three men, and melted away into the deep darkness of the back mountain—no, rather, into the aquamarine dawn now tinged with the chirps of small birds.

II

“Damn it!”
“—Hurry! Take the shortcut up and block the path ahead!”

Ichinōjō came running and rebuked the bewildered samurai.

“Damn!”

From the dawn-dark earth, someone suddenly grabbed his leg.

Ichinōjō tumbled head over heels,

“Ah! What are you doing?!”

Before he could finish speaking, Umino Jinzaburō mounted on top of him,

“Culprit! I’ve caught you!”

he bellowed.

Ichininōjō struggled wildly while narrowing his eyes in fury,

"Th-that's absurd! How dare you name me culprit?—Have you lost your wits completely?" he spat at Jinzaburō.

“Shut up! There had indeed been suspicious circumstances all along, but it was a grave oversight to dismiss the possibility that it could be the son of a castle guard. The conspirator who plotted to plunge me into sin and bring about my ruin—it is indeed thou!”

Startled by these unexpected words, the officials and pursuing samurai hastily gathered around. For a moment, they suspected Jinzaburō had truly gone mad—but with O-Sayo also speaking with conviction,

“Then,”

Following his words, when they searched under the floorboards, Hattori Taizō—a ronin trussed up in a bale binding—was dragged out,

“Lord Ichinōjō, your luck has run out. I was pressed by Heishirō and ended up spilling everything, see.”

With that, he spilled everything.

By his confession, everything became clear.

Ichinōjō, too, had been one who had long been in love with O-Sayo.

However, O-Sayo showed no caution toward that either, just as she had toward Heishirō, and did not offer any particular warning to Jinzaburō.

But for Ichinōjō—after years of unrequited love had worn his patience thin and he had exhausted every possible scheme—it was an act of desperation.
In the end, to bring about Jinzaburō’s downfall—he who had been chosen as her betrothed—he hired two ronin, incited them to steal the Poetry Scroll, and even guided them to infiltrate the castle.

But when examined closely, Ichinōjō’s methods proved to be nothing more than clumsy, amateurish handiwork. While the foolishness of insects drawn to their fiery death remains undeniable, the greater guilt lies rather with the innocent-seeming lantern’s oil dish.
Even if blameless, a maiden must guard her heart against the sinful flicker of the lamp.

(August 1938)