Pathway to Japanese Literature

Prologue: First Scene – Gambler Sanzō Muttsuda’s House

Second Scene: In Front of Sanzō’s House

Third Scene: Former Sanzō’s House

Fourth Scene: Outside the House Again

Fifth Scene: Sanzō’s House Thrice

Second Act: Nakasendō Kumagai-juku Backstreet

[Grand Finale] First Scene: Same Inn's Cheap Lodgings

Second Scene: Battleground at the Outskirts of the Inn

Third Scene: Former Cheap Lodgings

Fourth Scene: Roadside at the Outskirts of the Inn

Tokijirō Kutsukake Kamakichi of Isome

Sanzō Muttsuda - The Drunken Horse Trader

Okinu, Wife Yasubei, Innkeeper

Tarōkichi, Son Oroku, Wife

Hyakusuke of Ōnogi Hatchōtoku

Hantarō of Tomaya

Intruding gamblers (toward Sanzō's side); passersby from Kumagai-juku; Hatchōtoku's subordinates; Seiken's subordinates; others.

[Prologue]

First Scene – Gambler Sanzō Muttsuda’s House

Sanzō had been a man who should have inherited his boss's position within three or four years. But when the boss he depended on was arrested, rumors spread that exile to a distant island was inevitable. His entire faction scattered, leaving Sanzō utterly alone. Still he kept faith with his boss—without a single subordinate, his body his only possession—and continued to claim membership in the Nakagawa family. Naturally, pressure came from rival bosses' factions. Tonight would be their last.

On an autumn night, under the light of an andon lamp, Sanzō and his wife Okinu were hurriedly packing their belongings while minding every sound to avoid drawing others' attention.
To one side slept their son Tarōkichi.

Sanzō (Accidentally knocking over a ceramic while packing)
(It breaks with a clattering sound)

Okinu: “Ah!”
(Stopped packing and cowered in fear)

Tarōkichi (waking up): “Mama.”

Okinu: “I’m here.”
(Moved closer) “What’s wrong?”
“Mama’s right here.”
(Pretending to lie down beside him) “You’re such a good boy. Go to sleep now.”

Sanzō stepped down into the earthen-floored entrance and peered quietly outside—no one was there.

Okinu: “You’re such a good boy.”
“Go to sleep now.”

Sanzō: Has the boy fallen asleep?
(Returns to his spot and resumes packing.)

Okinu: Ah, he’s asleep.
“See? The child’s blameless, isn’t he.”

Sanzō (peering at Tarōkichi’s sleeping face) Hmm.
“He’s smirking away.”

“He must be dreaming,” Okinu said, resuming her packing. “Just thinking about it makes me sick.”

“It’s too late for regrets now,” Sanzō replied.

“A gambler fleeing with his wife and child?” Her voice caught. “You...” She wiped her eyes with a sleeve. “Every road ahead of us looks treacherous.”

Sanzō: “That’s right—take one step outside，and you'll find every path in this world's made of rugged roads．”
“Hey，Okinu—from here on out，it's nothing but hardship．Make sure you're prepared for it．”

“I know.”
“We’ll be fine. No matter what hardships we face in foreign lands—as long as the three of us are together, we’ll endure them.”
“But still… it’s so frustrating.”

Sanzō—Shh! There were footsteps at the rear.
(Grasping the long sword kept at hand, he quietly went to peer out the back door.)

Okinu: “How is it?—Huh?”
(Shielding Tarōkichi, she asked.)

Sanzō: “There’s no one here.”
“The moon’s shining on the river like it’s broad daylight.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” Okinu said.
(Resumes packing)

Sanzō (looking at the bundle Okinu prepared): “That won’t work.”
“Okinu.”
“You can’t make such a huge wrapped bundle.”

“But it’s all Tarōkichi’s things.”
“There’s only two or three pieces of mine in there.”

“They’re about to storm in any moment now.”
“It’s pitiful, but cut the boy’s things down to one change of clothes.—No matter how much we take with us, if we meet those bastards before leaving this territory, all three of us’ll die.”
“Resign yourself and leave most things behind.”

“For me, just the clothes on my back would be fine.”
“But for Tarōkichi alone—I don’t want to make him face hardships, you know.”

“That’s reasonable enough,” said Sanzō, “but listen here, Okinu. Ever since they nabbed our Boss, the Nakagawa family’s gone from ruin to ruin—now I’m the last true kin left. Back when the Boss still breathed free air under open skies, I ranked among Nakagawa’s top five fingers. We had two hundred seventy sworn brothers then—all dust now.”

“People are so treacherous these days,” Okinu said. “Every last one of them clings to the collars of prosperous sorts.”

“But I alone never forgot the Boss’s kindness,” Sanzō countered. “Even when left completely alone, I clung to this land like a lion. But for nothing—tonight I’ve no choice but to flee.”

“You...” Okinu’s voice wavered. “Shouldn’t they be coming any time now?”

“Those bastards have been scheming since yesterday just to kill me—the last man standing.” Sanzō’s jaw tightened. “They won’t attack early—since the signal’s set for four o’clock [by the old clock], we’re still safe.”

Okinu: “Out of two hundred seventy kin we once had， you were the only one who held out till the end—the Nakagawa family’s end was wretched， wasn’t it.”

Sanzō: “Nonsense—you think I’ll stay like this forever? Even if I have to trudge through exile in straw sandals for a time—I’ll come back to this land someday． Carve out my territory and build my own damn empire． Alright， let’s go．”

Okinu (holding a small bundle): “Right.”

“Are you crying?” Sanzō asked.
(Turning aside to swallow tears) “A man falls seven times and gets up eight.”

“Look,” Okinu said.
“Children are little Buddhas, aren’t they?”
“Sleeping so peacefully, completely unaware.”

Sanzō grunted. “Sleeping soundly.”
The boy slept with an innocent face, unknowing that his parents were leaving their familiar land behind for a journey with no certain destination.
“Don’t cry—I know telling you not to is pointless, but don’t you cry for me.”
“Let’s go.”
“You won’t carry this.”
“I’ll carry the boy.”

Okinu (accepting the bundle): “Once we’ve gone a little way, I’ll carry him on my back.”

“Wait,” said Sanzō.
“Right.”
“You carry the boy—it’ll be hard work, but do it.”
“Those petty bastards won’t let a lone man like me live.”
“If they find us, they won’t just finish me—they’ll silence you and the boy too to clean up loose ends.”

“How could I let them kill this precious child?” said Okinu.
“If they try such a thing, I’ll sink my teeth into their throats.”

“Damn right,” said Sanzō.
“When that moment comes, I’ll cut those bastards down like a madman—you run while you can.”

Okinu: “Oh, that’s fine.”

Sanzō: “That’s why I’m having you carry the boy. I’m giving you every last coin I’ve got.” (Took out his wallet.)

“You keep that with you.”
“Nonsense. No matter what happens, the three of us will live and die together.”

Sanzō (listening intently): “This is bad.”
(Voices cursing outside) “Okinu, brace yourself!”
(discarded the bundle and reached for his short sword)

Okinu (protecting the sleeping Tarōkichi): “You’re going to do it anyway—so do it right.”

“Hmm.”
He quietly descended into the earthen-floored entrance.

Act II: In Front of Sanzō’s House

A short distance from Sanzō’s solitary house along the road stood a sacred grove.
Before it stood Kamakichi of Isome the gambler, Hantarō of Tomaya, and Hyakusuke of Ōnogi, wearing tasuki headbands with their long wakizashi drawn.
A short distance away stood Tokijirō Kutsukake—a traveler and gambler—whose attire matched theirs, yet he loitered with hands tucked into his sleeves.
The three huddled together and began whispering their plans.
Tokijirō cast a sidelong glance at them and smirked.

Ōnogi: “Then I’ll speak up.”
(Facing Tokijirō.)
(Facing Tokijirō, with Isome and Tomaya following behind him.) “Kutsukake.”

Tokijirō: “What might that be?”

“If you don’t like standing guard outside, feel free to clear out right now.”
“Don’t push your luck with such demands.”

Tomaya: “We’re the born-and-bred inner circle here.”

Ōnogi: “Hold your horses. Just leave it to me.”

(Calming the two) Kutsukake.

Tokijirō: “Hey.”

Ōnogi: “We were the ones who originally brought up tonight’s plan.”
Ōnogi: “You just sidled up from nowhere begging to join—boss only said yes outta pity.”
Ōnogi: “Meaning you’re here to spectate.”
Ōnogi: “Sanzō Muttsuda’s head? That’s our kill—us three insiders’. Ain’t your damn business.”

Tokijirō: “So what’s your point?”

Tomaya: “Quit meddlin’ and just watch! You got that?”

Isome: “Quit yappin’ and let’s get to work already. These amateurs keep favorin’ Sanzō—that bastard might’ve heard about tonight’s plan. If he skedaddles, we’re screwed.”

Ōnogi: “Kutsukake! I’ll say it again—taking his head’s our job, not yours. Got it?”

“I don’t know,” Tokijirō said.

“The hell you say?” Tomaya snapped.

“We ain’t brawlin’ here,” Ōnogi cut in.

Tokijirō tilted his head. “Sanzō really that strong?”

“Strong?” Isome scoffed. “He’s small-time.”

“Then my blade’s wasted here.”

Tomaya spat. “Tch—we’re handpicked ’cause Sanzō’s got muscle. You’d get gutted quick.”

Ōnogi stepped between them. “Final warnin’. You watch outside. Can’t stomach guard duty? Scram.” He jerked his chin at the others. “Storm in.”

Isome: “Understood.”
(He knocked on Sanzō’s door.)

Tomaya pinched his nose and called out in a falsetto voice: “Evening. Be a lamb and open up, would you? The village headman’s issued an emergency notice.” He dropped the act with another “Good evening,” then braced himself.

Ōnogi waited coiled like a spring, ready to burst through the moment the storm shutters opened.

Tokijirō sat defiantly before the trees, sneering as he watched the trio’s antics.

Isome chimed in with mock courtesy: “Good evening—good evening.”

“Damn bastard!” Tomaya spat when no response came. “Won’t budge.” His voice hardened. “To hell with ’em.” He and Isome began pounding violently on the door.

**Act Three - Sanzō's Former Home**

They surrounded Tarōkichi with tools and bundles, before which Okinu prepared for their journey while clutching a dagger to stand guard. Sanzō wore a headband and straw sandals with a tasuki cord tied around his sleeves, having drawn his sword as he stood ready to confront anyone charging through the entrance. The pounding against the storm shutters grew more violent.

"Sanzō: Okinu."
"If there's even the slightest opening, escape through the back."
"You hear?"
"Take good care of Tarōkichi, I beg you."
"You're not just yourself anymore—take good care."

"Okinu: Oh, I know."
"Understood."
"But... will you be all right?"

Sanzō held his dagger at the ready.
To live or die depended on the luck of the moment.

Isome broke through the storm shutters. "Sanzō, I've come to take your head!"
He stepped into the earthen floor.

"Cut the crap," Sanzō said.
He slashed at him.

Isome dodged back.
Barely avoiding the strike, he retreated outside the storm shutters.

Tomaya: “Heave-ho!”
(Kicked out the remaining storm shutters.)

Ōnogi: “Sanzō, I am Hyakusuke of Ōnogi.”

Tomaya: “Hantarō of Tomaya.”

Isome: “I’m Kamakichi of Isome.”

Ōnogi: “I’ll cut you down after declaring my name!”

Sanzō: “See how Sanzō Muttsuda of the Nakano River family handles himself!”
(He fought against three opponents, dashing around the house.)

Tarōkichi clung to Okinu: “Dad! Dad!”

Okinu: “Hold your ground! What beasts they are! Cut them down!”

Tarōkichi: “Dad! Dad!”

Sanzō: “Come at me，you beasts!”
Stimulated by Tarōkichi’s voice，he fought with fierce spirit，cutting through the three men.
The three men retreated outside the storm shutters.

Okinu (rolling and moving tools around，swiftly blocking the entrance): “You really chased those guys off handily，didn’t you?”

Sanzō: “Hmm.”
With a deep sigh，his entire body tingled and tensed with surging strength from hearing Tarōkichi’s voice.
“Okinu，give me water.”

“Here you go,” Okinu said, pouring water from the kettle into a bowl and handing it over. “It’s lukewarm, but mind how you drink it. You’ll choke.”

“Hmph,” Sanzō grunted. “I’m a man of the gambler’s trade. I know well enough how to drink without choking.”

“No doubt,” Okinu replied with a soft chuckle.

Tarōkichi circled behind her. “Dad! You’re so strong!”

“What’re you blathering about?” Sanzō barked before letting out a gruff laugh. “Okinu! Let’s make our move while we can.” He stood gripping his drawn sword.

Okinu: “Right.”
(Fastened a small bundle onto Tarōkichi’s back.)

Scene Four: Outside the House Again

Hyakusuke of Ōnogi, Kamakichi of Isome, and Hantarō of Tomaya—the three men came before the forest and were wrapping cloths around the grazing wounds inflicted by Sanzō to staunch the bleeding.
Traveler Kutsukake Tokijirō stood near Sanzō’s house, hands tucked in his sleeves, sneering coldly.

Ōnogi: “That bastard fought like a man possessed—I was shocked how damn strong he was.”

Tomaya: “Only ’cause it was us we got off with scratches.”
(jerking his chin toward Tokijirō) “Had that freak been along, there’d be one stiff laid out cold by now.”

Isome (to Tomaya): “You’re bleedin’ through.”

“Who gives a damn?”

Tokijirō: “Don’t go saying that—you’d best rewrap that bandage proper.”

Tomaya: “The hell you say?”

Tokijirō: “I’m the one standing guard here. That Sanzō fellow ain’t likely to come charging out swinging anytime soon. If he comes out, it’ll be a duel.”

Isome turned away with a “Tch.”
“What a disagreeable bastard.”

Ōnogi: “Is that so? If you’re going to act so tough, hey—Mr. Kutsukake—why don’t we go in once?”

Tokijirō: “If the young’uns have no complaints, I’ll charge in anywhere you like.”

Tomaya (to Ōnogi): “What’re you blathering about?”

Ōnogi: “Ah, let it be.” (Laughing at Tokijirō) “Hey—Sanzō’s strong, but Mr. Tokijirō Kutsukake here’s a tough one too. Let’s have a go at each other once.” “Hey Kutsukake—this is what you’ve been itching for, ain’t it?”

Isome: “This one’s a real gem.”
“Sanzō’s bastard landed himself a fine blood sacrifice.”

Tokijirō: “What’s that about, sirs?”
“Are you young masters withdrawing?”
“Or else—”

Tomaya: “What’re you bitching about?”
“Quit your bellyaching.”

“We’ll catch our breath and cut Sanzō down.”
“Hmph. Just one man.”
“No need to rush.”

“In such a situation—if he were t’ flee out the back—what d’you s’pose’d happen?”

Ōnogi: “No difference.”
(He stood up and hurriedly wrapped the cloth.)

Tomaya: “What nonsense—whether from the back or front, d’you think Sanzō’s got th’ courage t’ come out?”

Isome: “He’s a cat in a bag.”
“No need t’ worry.”

Tokijirō: “Well then—shall we have at it?”
(Calling into the house) “Mr. Sanzō Muttsuda.”
“Would you care t’ come out?”

Sanzō (half-revealing himself at the entrance near the tools): “Sanzō Muttsuda remains here.”
“What would you have of me?”

“I am but a traveler,” said Tokijirō.
“Having received the kindness of a night’s lodging and a meal, I—Tokijirō Kutsukake of Shinshū, a man of no account with neither grudge nor grievance—stand opposed to you.”

“Is that so?”
“I am but a humble man.”
“Through your courteous words, I can well discern your true intentions.”

“I shall take my stance.”
“The contest shall be a duel.”
(Indicating the three with his chin) “No third parties—let us settle this honorably.”

“I gratefully accept your terms.”

“Mr. Sanzō.”
“The location?”

Sanzō would settle this outside where the footing was good.

The three men: “What?”
(Lurched to their feet)

Tokijirō: “What’s this? What’s this? You mock me.”
“Interfere, and I’ll cut down ally and enemy alike.”

“What did you say?” challenged the three men.

To risk my life against someone I held neither debt nor grudge—this was all about obligations from our association.
When I’d hung up my straw sandals three days back—had someone already decided what I’d do?
Ha! Ha ha!
He sneered at his own predicament.

Sanzō was from Shinshū.
(Stepping outside) “I’ll oblige you with the duel you seek.”

Tokijirō: “Agreed.”
They fought fiercely.

Okinu (peering through the torn entrance with Tarōkichi, cowering each time Sanzō faltered).

Sanzō: “Agh!”
(Struck by a single sword stroke, he collapsed.)

Tarōkichi: “Daddy!” (crying and clinging to Okinu)

Okinu: “Ah!”
(Forgetting herself, she tried to rush out.)

Tokijirō watched Sanzō try to rise and waited quietly.

The three men had been staring blankly at the duel, but Okinu’s voice and Tarōkichi’s cry snapped them to attention; exchanging glances and nodding in agreement, they moved to strike.

Okinu: “You bastards—what do you think you’re doing?!”

(Throwing dustpans, hoes, fulling blocks, and whatever else she could grab, she clutched Tarōkichi and fled inside.)

“There!”
(They chased into the house)

Tokijirō: "Wha—what the hell are you doing?!"
"Hey, hey—what the hell are you doing?!"
(Chasing after the three men into the house)

Sanzō (staggering to his feet, headed toward the house).

Fifth Scene: Thrice at Sanzō's House

While shielding Tarōkichi, Okinu slipped through the three men’s gleaming blades.

Tokijirō cut between them: “The hell you doin’ to women an’ kids?!”
“What kinda damn code is that?!”

Isome snarled: “Ain’t your concern.”
“Scram!”

Tomaya barked: “Said get out! Move!”

Ōnogi warned: “Stay outta this, Kutsukake!”

Tokijirō planted his feet: “Who you think’ll make me budge?”
“What’s gained slashin’ womenfolk an’ brats?”
“We gamblers trade lives like coins—swore that oath when we took the straw sandals.”
“But this? This ain’t our way.”
“No good! No damn good!”
“Ain’t lettin’ you butcher ’em!”

Tomaya: “Interfere, and we’ll mark you as enemy!”
Isome: “Damn right—we’ll cut you down as one!”
Tokijirō: “You’re joking! Like hell I’ll let that happen!”

Sanzō (staggering through the torn entrance, enters).

Ōnogi: Kutsukake—your opponent’s come charging in!
(As Tokijirō turns away) Now!

Tomaya faced Okinu.

Isome chased Tarōkichi around.

Tarōkichi: “Nooo!”
“Nooo!”
(Fleeing around) “Mommy!”
“Mommy!”

Okinu (hurling whatever came to hand in desperation): "What're you doing?!"
"No humanity!"
"Demons! Beasts!"

Sanzō (exhausted, placed his hands on the threshold and collapsed).

Tokijirō: “You bastards!”
(He fiercely confronted the three men.)
(In an instant, all three were cut down and fled to the earthen floor.)

Sanzō (suddenly rose, cut down Isome’s sickle strike, and collapsed limply).
Ōnogi’s Hyaku and Tomaya’s Han fled outside.

Tokijirō (standing at the entrance): “Ma’am.
Are you injured?”

Okinu: “Yes.”
(Clutching Tarōkichi tightly)

Tokijirō: “Was the boy unhurt?”

Tarōkichi: “Waa!”
(Crying.)

Okinu: “Yes.”
(Clutching Tarōkichi even tighter)

Tokijirō: “That’s a relief.”
(Looking at Sanzō) “Damn.”
“No way… Can’t reach him.”
“Ma’am—you’re in a tight spot.”
“I can imagine.—But you married into this life knowing what it was. Won’t waste breath on empty comforts.”
“Beg your pardon.”
(Exits through the entrance)

Okinu (rushes to Sanzō’s side and lifts him up): “You.”
“The wound’s shallow.”
“Stay strong for me.”

Tarōkichi: “Dad! Dad!”
“Waaah!”
(Tarōkichi cries.)

Okinu: “Don’t you die on me.”
“What are we mother and child supposed to do after you die?”
“Hey—stay strong—please—please.”

Sanzō: “Okinu... water... Water... The farewell water cup.”

Okinu (weeping, rises to fetch water)

Tarōkichi: “Daddy!”
“Don’t die!”
“Nooo!”
“Waaah!”
“Waaah!”
(Cries.)

Sanzō (groaning, reached for Tarōkichi’s head)

Okinu: “Here’s the water.”
“I’ve brought the water.”
(Offering the ladle) “I’m a woman who married a man in the yakuza livelihood.”
“I won’t weep with regret though.”
—What were we supposed to do now?

Sanzō: “Okinu.
Take care of Tarōkichi.
You’re with child.—What a wretched fate.”
(Attempted to drink from the ladle)

Okinu: “Wait.
They say if you drink the water, that’ll be the end.”
“Taro-boy, look well at Daddy’s face and remember it.”
“Oh—don’t forget even when you’re grown up, hear?”

Tarōkichi: “Daddy! Make sure you remember my face too, okay?”

Sanzō: “Un... I don't wanna die, but there’s no helpin’ it.”
(Attempts to drink from the ladle again.)

Okinu: “S-someone’s here. Who’s there?”
(Shielding Tarōkichi, she rises to protect her husband.)

Sanzō: "They're back again?"
(Writhes)

Tokijirō (entering from the entrance): “It’s me.”
“Tokijirō—a traveler from Shinshu—at your service.”
“I did leave once proper-like, but that boy’s crying stuck in my ears... felt like someone was yanking me back by the scruff. Ended up turning right around and coming back—at your service.”

Tarōkichi: “Mama. Is this uncle a good person? Is he a bad person?”

Okinu (at a loss for a reply)

Tokijirō: “Uncle is a bad man. But hey—I ain’t bad no more.”

“But Uncle, you cut down Dad, didn’t you?”

“Forgive me.”

“But... you saved Mama and me.”

“Boy, you really think that?”
“Thank you.”

Sanzō: A man of Shinshū.

Tokijirō: “Right.”
“If there’s something to say, don’t hold back—say it now.”
“I’ll take care of it, at your service.”

Sanzō: “P-p-please… I beg you…”
(Pointing at Okinu and Tarōkichi, he drops the ladle and collapses.)
(The mother and child embrace and cry.)

Tokijirō shuddered and stood rigid. “Voices,” he muttered.
He peered outside. “Damn—they’re here.”
“Ma’am.”
“Cut off Mr. Sanzō’s hair. Take it with you.”
“Get out now.”

(Faint battle cries) The bastards came in force, bunched together.

Okinu: "Ah! They're shouting battle cries!"

Tokijirō: "Hurry up and do it."
(Peering outside) They'd gotten damn close.
Once she cut the hair, she was to tuck it securely inside her robe.
When death came, she was to cling to that lock and meet her end.

Okinu: "Yes."
"Tarōkichi, come here."

Tokijirō: "Can you escape through the rear?"

Tarōkichi grunted.
"I know the way."

“I see,” said Tokijirō. “Then show me the way.” He peered outside. “They’ve gotten damn close now. Ma’am—” His voice tightened. “Hear that? Countless footsteps. If those bastards swarm you, ten times outta ten you won’t survive.” A dry laugh escaped him. “Making it out alive’d be a miracle.” His calloused hand found Tarōkichi’s shoulder. “Don’t cry, boy. Uncle’s right here.”

Tarōkichi: “Mm.”
“I ain’t cryin’!”

Voices from outside: Waaah! Waaah!
(The sound of countless footsteps grows gradually closer.)

Tokijirō (extinguishes the lamp and opens the back door; moonlight bathes his face)
(peering into darkness)

Okinu (prays with Tarōkichi before Sanzō and exits through the back door).

Tokijirō (makes a one-handed prayer to Sanzō and exits; closes the door)

Voices from outside: Waaah!
(They drew near; several men leapt in from the entrance, swords drawn.)
(The battle cries still continued.)

[Act II]

Nakasendō Kumagaya Post Station Back Street

The clamor of voices from evening revelry at Ryōri Hatagoya’s second floor—songs, musical instruments—all blend together audibly.
The trees scattered about appear withered; it is a severe winter.
There are men and women passing by, looking cold.
There are also lodging guests who, drunk, hold hands with serving girls and sneak about.

Tarōkichi stood alone, forlornly.
The strains of a Komoro Oiwake ballad accompanied by stringed instruments could be heard nearby.
A drunkard passed by.

Drunkard: “Hey, kid.”
Drunkard: “What’re you doin’?”

Tarōkichi looked at his face without answering and turned away.

Drunkard: “Huh, this brat’s mute.”

“I ain’t mute!”

“Oh, so ya can talk after all. What’re ya doin’?”

“I’m just spacing out.”

The drunkard laughed derisively. “Skippin’ supper to goof off, got yerself kicked out, eh?”

“Ain’t true!”

“Where’s yer home?”

Home? Tarōkichi whimpered.

“Quit blubberin’. I’ll take ya back—make ’em say sorry.” The man leaned closer, reeking of sake. “Where’s it at?”

“Home’s... all over.”

“Don’t talk big,” scoffed the drunkard. “You ain’t some lord—since when do folks got houses all over? Where’s your real home?”

“Shimōsa.”

“Shimōsa? What’s that? That’s way out in the sticks. You really came from there?”

“Uh-huh.” Tarōkichi sniffled. “Left when the pine crickets an’ bell crickets were singin’.”

“And now?” The man leaned closer, reeking of sake. “Where’s this real home o’ yours now?”

Tarōkichi: “I don’t got no real home.”

Drunkard: “Ain’t got one.”
“Ain’t got no home.”
“Huh. No inn?”
“Don’t you got a dad and mom?”

Tarōkichi: “I do have a mom.”

“What about your dad?”

“Killed—he died.”

“So where’s this mom of yours? Don’t see her around.”

“She’s right here.” (points)

“Huh?!”
“That your mom?”
“The one playin’ the shamisen, eh?”
“Then why’s Dad here too?”

“He ain’t my dad!”
“Uncle.”

“What the hell you yappin’ about?” The drunkard’s breath reeked of sake as he leaned closer. “Man an’ woman shack up together, they’re dad an’ mom. Basic facts.”

Tarōkichi stomped his straw-sandaled foot, snow crunching beneath. “Ain’t wrong! Mom said so!” His shrill voice carried across the frozen riverbank. “’Cause they ain’t proper married! He’s Uncle, not Dad—that’s what she told me!”

Drunkard: “Tch—actin’ all high an’ mighty on me.”
(Still sneering—but when Tokijirō finished singing “Oiwake Hayashi” an’ stepped out—he caught sight o’ Okinu an’ slithered off like a whipped cur.)

“What the hell are you saying?” Okinu demanded from behind the drunkard.
“Who’d grill a child with such nonsense?”

“You shouldn’t get so worked up, Ms. Okinu,” Tokijirō said.
“He’s just a drunk.”

“But he’s belittling people too much.”

“Alright, alright,” said Tokijirō. “Getting that worked up ain’t good for your health.”
“Ms. Okinu, your body’s at a crucial time right now.”
“Getting real angry or shocked’s like poison, y’know.”

“I’m sorry,” Okinu said.
“I just... got mad.”
“I’ll be careful from now on.”

Tokijirō turned to the boy. “You must be cold.”

“Ain’t cold,” Tarōkichi shot back.
Then, clutching Tokijirō’s sleeve: “Uncle, you must be cold.”

“Me?”
“You can forget the cold while you’re singing a song.”

“Shall we head back，Ms．Okinu？”

“But now that we've started performing，let's earn a bit more first．”

“I don't mind myself，but your body's in a delicate state，Ms．Okinu－it's cold out；you need to take care．”
“Ah，if we don't ask for luxuries，we'll manage tonight with this．”

Okinu was silently crying.
Tarōkichi leaned against her.

Tokijirō asked, “What do you want to do?”
Had she started feeling unwell?

“I’m sorry.”
“I’m so sorry.”

“Oh come on now.”
“No call to go sayin’ such things out in the street.”
“Ain’t nothin’ needs settlin’ nor not-settlin’.”

Okinu: “When I think how you show such kindness to my son and me—complete strangers with no ties of blood—the tears just come, and I can’t stop them.”

Tokijirō: “There you go again with that talk, Ms. Okinu. What’s this about strangers or family? Boy, tell your mom not to cry.”

Tarōkichi: “Mom. Don’t cry—Uncle’ll worry.”

“Alright, alright.”
“Alright.”
“I won’t cry anymore, okay?”
“I’m sorry to ask this, but could you earn us another performance?”
“I want to buy Tarōkichi something with cotton padding.”

“Sure thing,” said Tokijirō. “Then you’ll have to tough it out a bit longer tonight. Tarō-boy’s clothes are one thing, but you’re dressed too lightly yourself, Ms. Okinu.”

“You’re the one who’s more lightly dressed than me.”
“Still just wearing lined and unlined layers, aren’t you?”
“What’re you on about now?”

Tokijirō Kutsukake was a man who traveled all across Japan.
A man who could survive even stark naked in midwinter.
"Come on, let's go."
(He starts to leave but stops.)

Okinu (turning around): “Did something happen?”
Tokijirō: “Huh.”
“Ms. Okinu, when’s the due month?”

Okinu: “March—or maybe around April.”

Tokijirō: “That’s when the flowers bloom, huh.”
“I oughta save at least a little by then.”

Okinu (stands dejectedly).

Tokijirō: “Ha, ha. We’ll manage.” He patted Tarōkichi’s head. “When the cherry blossoms bloom, you’ll have a little brother or sister. Since it’s your dead dad’s child, it’ll probably look like you and be cute.”

Tarōkichi: “I know.”

“You know?” Tokijirō said. “Sharp kid.”
“Wish the baby was Uncle’s,” Tarōkichi said. “Then I wouldn’t say ‘Uncle’ no more. Just call you Dad.”
Okinu flushed crimson. “You awful child,” she scolded. “Saying such things.”

Tokijirō (laughing awkwardly): “Ms. Okinu, enough with the jokes—let’s get to work. How about playing my hometown’s Oiwake Bushi? Let’s leave Komoro and see Asama—”

Okinu: “Oh.”
(Playing the shamisen through tears, the three of them departing, shivering in the cold.)

〔Grand Finale〕

Act I: The Same Inn – Cheap Lodgings

A filthy tatami room was located in the back.
Separated by a narrow corridor was the master’s room of Yasudomari.
A sparse, disorderly space resembling a vacant lot stretched out—viewed as such from the garden.
In the garden, a single cherry tree’s blossoms were beginning to open.
In one tatami room, Okinu sat atop a futon, unstitching her own hanten coat to sew into birth clothing for the child soon to be born.
Yasudomari’s wife Orokku was pasting a safe childbirth charm onto a pillar.

Orokku: “Doing it like this guarantees a safe delivery.”
“With that resolve you’ll bear a healthy child.”
“Now—this ain’t your first rodeo! Second births come easier.”

“Thank you so much,” said Okinu, turning to face her. “After all the help you’ve given us...” Her voice trailed off. “I’m sorry.” She stared at her hands, clenched tight in her lap. “The rent... it’s grown so much...”

Orokku waved a dismissive hand. “Since when should a woman heavy with child trouble herself over such things?” She leaned against the weathered pillar, arms crossed. “Roof fees are a husband’s burden, not a wife’s.” A knowing smirk twisted her lips. “Though last I heard, Mr. Toki here plays no such role.”

“Ma’am,” Okinu protested softly, cheeks flushing pink. “If Mr. Toki and I were truly wed, that would be different—but though we’ve journeyed together since leaving Shimousa last autumn...” She hesitated, fingers worrying at her unraveling coat sleeve. “Our bond isn’t... that sort.” Her throat worked as she swallowed hard. “Yet he lowers himself to shelter us—a widow and her boy—when he owes us nothing.”

The needle slipped, pricking her thumb. She barely noticed the bead of blood welling up. “Sometimes I think—” Her voice cracked like thin ice. “Sometimes I think death would lift this weight from his shoulders.” A tear splashed onto the makeshift swaddling cloth. “But my poor Tarōkichi... And to cast my husband’s last child into darkness...” She pressed shaking fingers to her lips. “Forgive me... Forgive me for binding him to our misery.”

“He’s a rare man these days,” said Orokku. “Ms. Okinu, you mustn’t let yourself grow faint-hearted. Even toward Mr. Toki’s kindness—caring so fiercely for a woman who’s neither wife nor mistress, child and all—you can’t show weakness.” She nodded at the fabric. “That’s for the babe, eh?”

“Yes,” Okinu replied. “I unpicked my own things to make this.” Her needle kept moving through the threadbare cloth. “I know complaining does no good, but this...this is what must serve as my child’s birth clothing.”

Orokku: “This was the hanten you wore all winter, wasn’t it.”

Okinu: “The cherry blossoms have started to bloom.”
“It’s no longer even a hanten anymore.”
(Hid her tears and continued sewing.)

Tarōkichi ran from the back of the corridor, burst into the tatami room, and pressed against the shoji.

Okinu: “Tarōkichi, what’s wrong?”

Orokku: “Did you pick a fight and come running back?”

Tarōkichi: “Mom! Bad guys are here!”

Orokku: Huh?!
“D-did a thief break in?”

Tarōkichi: Those guys who came to our house in Shimousa with drawn swords—both of them are here!
(Peering through a torn shoji screen) Tch—they’re still standing there.

Orokku: What?
“Even though it’s broad daylight, have they really drawn their swords and barged in?”
“Which bastard from where brought the fight’s aftermath here?”

Tarōkichi: Grandma, please go and drive them away!

Orokku: “They’re here.”
“I’m Yasudomari’s missus.”
“Ms. Okinu, don’t you worry.”
“I’m used to fights and blades.”

“Ma'am,” Okinu said. “Don’t trouble yourself over us—but please keep silent about Mr. Toki.”

“Ah, of course—no way I’m lettin’ guests go blabbing every little thing.”
“You just relax.”

(Steps out into the corridor)

“Come here.”
“It’s alright.”
(Trembling, she called Tarōkichi over, shielded him, and sat down.)

Orokku peered down the corridor. “You there—human or wooden stake? Creepy lot, aren’t you.”

Tomaya stomped out. “Old woman! A kid just went in here.”

Orokku crossed her arms. “I don’t know about that. What’s this—you folks expecting us to put you up? Honorable guests, are you?”

Ōnoki emerged from the back of the corridor with a sneer. “Hmph—help me out here, granny. We ain’t fallen so low we’d shack up in a dump like this.”

“Ain’t you guests?” Orokku’s voice sharpened. “People who aren’t even guests barging in here—what’s this? Get out.”

Tomaya slammed his fist against the wall. “Quit your blathering, old woman. Who the hell do you think I am? I’m Hantaro of Tomaya from Shimousa, here to back up Boss Shōten.”

Orokku: “Don’t go spouting grand claims. If you’re here for Boss Shōten, you’re just gamblers muscling in on this messy, drawn-out fight, aren’t you?”

Ōnoki: “Old woman.”
“You oughta know just by lookin’ at us.”

Orokku: “What’re you gamblers so damn proud of?”
“Folks we know here were proper gamblers once too—don’t see ’em flauntin’ it now.”
“Well I’ll be—trackin’ mud in with your shoes!”
“Disgustin’.”
“Who raised you to stomp into decent homes boot-first?”
“You said you’re Hantaro from Boss Shōten’s crew.”
“(To Ōnoki) What’s your name, then?”

“You’re one heavy-breathing old hag.”
“Don’t you have a name?”

Tomaya: “We’re leavin’, so ain’t that good enough?”
Ōnoki: “Now that’s what makes Yasudomari’s wife fit for the job.”
(He exited laughing.)

Orokku: “That’s none of your concern! We don’t need your help. I’ll scatter purification salt for you!”
(She followed after them)

Tarōkichi (opening the sliding door and peering out): “Mom.”
“They’ve gone now.”

“Ah, thank goodness.”

“I wish Uncle were here,” said Tarōkichi. “Those guys should’ve been cut down.”

“He wasn’t here—that was just as well,” Okinu replied. “There’s no telling what might’ve happened if he’d been here.”

Tokijirō entered from the rear, looking utterly lost.
Suddenly regaining his composure, he stepped into the corridor and slid open the door.

“Uncle.”

“Right here.”
“Ms. Okinu, seems you’re still holding up.”

“Yes—four or five days yet.”

“Might sound crass, but I’d be grateful if it’d wait five-six more days.”
“Can manage something by then.”
“Oh—that’s the birth clothing, eh?”

“Yes.”
“It’s barely even a proper shape.”
“I can’t very well complain about appearances.”

Tokijirō sighed.

Tarōkichi: "Uncle, if only you’d come a little sooner."

Tokijirō: “I see.”
“Uncle had a little errand to take care of and was wandering around.”

Tarōkichi: “The bastards who came to the Shimousa house with their swords drawn are here now!”

“Huh?” Tokijirō turned to Okinu. “Who came through here?”

“I didn’t see them myself,” she replied, “but the voices sounded like Tomaya Hantaro and Ōnoki Hyakusuke.”

His eyes narrowed. “Those bastards—?!”

Yasubei (Master of Yasudomari.
(Having returned from outside and stepped into the corridor) Is Mr. Toki here?

“Yes, I’m here.”

Yasubei: “Just checked your room.”
“Got a paying job if you’re interested.”
“Though it’s a mite rough.”

Tokijirō: “Long as there’s coin in it, I’ll sweat.”
“What manner of work would that be?”

Yasubei: “Hmm.”
“That job?”
(Glancing nervously at Okinu) “How ’bout it, Mr. Toki—care to visit my humble quarters?”
“I’ll brew some bitter tea.”
“We’ll talk then.”

Tokijirō: “Right.”
“I’ll come straight away—but the daily wage?”
“Might sound grasping, but in our wretched state, we’d take three extra mon if offered.”

Yasubei: “This is it.”
(Holding up one finger) “Twenty-four hours non-stop—day and night.”

Tokijirō: “Much obliged.”
“Can I get an ichibu?”

Yasubei: “No, no—it ain’t an ichibu.”

Tokijirō (somewhat dejected): “One shu, huh?”

Yasubei: “No, no—it ain’t one shu.”
“One ryō.”
“Did that shock you?”

Tokijirō: “Hmm... One ryō? That’s staggering.”

Okinu: Even with around-the-clock work... One ryō?
“I wonder what kind of job it could be. I’m a bit worried.”

Yasubei: It’s a worrying job, sure enough.
“They wouldn’t be shelling out a whole ryō otherwise.”

“What sort of job is it?” Okinu asked. “Would you tell me about it?”

Yasubei hesitated.

Tokijirō chuckled. “This job’s mine to handle. A woman in confinement ought to keep quiet and rest,” he said firmly. “Listen here, Ms. Okinu—if I went back to my old trade, I’d keep you fed and sheltered even if you didn’t have a copper to your name.”

His voice grew reflective. “But seeing Mr. Sanzō like that... Your disgust with the gambler’s life struck true. That’s why I took up this wandering performer’s work with your shamisen back in Oiwake.”

A bitter laugh escaped him. “Now even that’s gone. Meant to quit yakuza life clean, but turns out I’ve no talent for honest work.” He gestured vaguely at their surroundings. “Selling trinkets to brats—some days we eat, some days we don’t. That’s how worthless I am now.”

His tone sharpened with resolve. “Hearing ‘one ryō a day’—I’d jump at that chance blind! Don’t know what it entails, but I’m still a man.” He forced a grin toward Tarōkichi. “Tarō-boy! When Uncle earns that ryō, I’ll stuff you with sweets!”

Softer now, he added: “We’ll get proper cotton for the baby’s birth clothes too—nothing fancy, but new.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Okinu said.
She wept silently.

“Ah, you mustn’t cry,” said Tokijirō. “I didn’t mean to make you cry. I only said it to lift your spirits.”

Yasubei silently closed the shoji screen and retreated to his room.

“With one ryō, we might not afford a sea bream for the seventh-night celebration,” Tokijirō continued, “but we could manage a proper whole fish at least. Well then, Ms. Okinu—I’ll go secure that one ryō job.”

“Please,” Okinu whispered, tears glistening. “Tarōkichi—bow to Uncle.”

Tarōkichi: “Uncle, please.”

Tokijirō: “It’s all right.”
(He stepped out into the corridor.)

Oroku emerged from the depths of the corridor. “Toki-san. Pops said there’s some work going—you hear about that?”

“Huh,” said Tokijirō. “I’m just on my way to go ask and have them explain it proper.”

“Is that so?”
“Mr. Toki.”
“You’re quite admirable—just what I’d expect from someone who’s left the yakuza behind.”
“That said, I can’t tell if those bastards earlier were humans or wooden stakes—if anything, the stakes are kinder since they don’t talk back.”

“You’re upset about something again.”

(Following Oroku, he stepped into Yasubei’s room.) “I humbly beg you to secure this one ryō position for me.”
“After all, the baby’s about to be born, sir.”
“Yes, sir.”

Yasubei (making a sour face as he smoked his tobacco): “But here’s the thing, Mr. Toki—it’s no good.”

Tokijirō: “No good.”
“That won’t do.”
“Now, why won’t you allow it, sir?”
“Have they refused from their side, sir?”

Oroku (while making tea): “My, the wind’s taken a strange turn, hasn’t it?”

“Refuse? As if I’d refuse,” said Yasubei. “The other side’s counting on you, if anything.”

“Then I’ll take it,” said Tokijirō. “I’ve got to take this job—I want that one ryō so bad I could claw it from my own throat.”

“But it’s no good,” said Yasubei. “No good.”

“Why can’t I take it? Why’s it no good, sir?”
“You’re someone who became thoroughly sick of the gambler’s life, aren’t you? That’s why it’s no good.”
“Yeah.”

Yasubei: “That one ryō job—it’s them telling you to become a gambler again.”

Tokijirō: “So you’re saying... if I become a gambler again, they’ll give me one ryō?”

Yasubei: “The deal is this—if you become a gambler for twelve hours straight, day and night, your daily wage will be one ryō.”

Tokijirō: “Seems like I get it, but I don’t.”

Yasubei: “Truth is, I’ve taken a liking to your grit, so I want to let you earn as much as you can.
In this area, there’s a boss called Mr. Toku of Hatchōnawate.
In short, they call him Mr. Hatchō Toku.
The other boss of equal influence is Mr. Kentarō Seiten—in short, they call him Mr. Seiken.
In my youth, I too was foolish enough to eat a bit of the gambler’s rice.
That’s why I’m still on good terms with Mr. Hatchō Toku even now.”
(lowering his voice emphatically) “This time, Mr. Hatchō Toku and Mr. Seiken have come to blows.
It’s a gamblers’ quarrel after all.
It’s just stubbornness—a matter of male pride—but if you rephrase it logically, it’s really no big deal.
But once stubbornness takes hold, it’s like a cart that’s started down a slope—there’s no stopping it once it gets going.
Wait—this was an explanation meant for you, Mr. Toki, wasn’t it?”

Tokijirō: “So you’re saying the deal was for me to lend my skills to Mr. Hatchō Toku for one ryō a day?”

Yasubei: “Mr. Hatchō Toku was too slow off the mark. He tried gathering his men, but they’d scattered and he couldn’t pull together a proper force.”
“That’s when I got the idea—if I put up one good man as backup, they should give me a ryō for my trouble. But I told ’em they had to send him back after a full day and night.”
“Mr. Toki—if word got out I’d hired you for just one ryō, it’d shame me something fierce.”

“I’ll go. Please send me.”

Oroku: One ryō is truly good money, but going to help in a gamblers’ quarrel... no.

Yasubei: “That’s it.”
“In my eagerness to let you earn one ryō, I recklessly proposed the idea to Mr. Hatchō Toku—but now I regret it.”
“After all, it’s a fight with dagger-bamboo spears.”
“It’s a matter of life and death, you know.”

Oroku: “Old man.”
“If you’re not careful and Mr. Toki ends up dead, just see what happens!”
“Ms. Okinu probably isn’t alive either, you know.”

Yasubei couldn’t form a coherent thought despite his years.
“Mr. Toki—let’s wash this matter away.”

Tokijirō: “No way—I’m going.”
“One ryō a day—that’s fine by me.”
“If I die, well, they’ll figure something out.”

“How about calling it off, eh?”

“What’re you saying ‘Don’t go’? I’m going through with it.”
“I’d rather have that ryō than save my hide.”
“Yasubei—you grasp my reasoning here?”

“Course I do, Mr. Toki.”
“You’re all man.”

Oroku: “It’s true.”

Tokijirō bowed to Yasubei. “Then listen to what I’ve got to say. Hey—don’t speak a word. Just listen and get it through your skull.” His voice tightened. “Please. I’m beggin’ you.” He pressed his palms together. “I humbly beseech you.”

(He whispered something urgent.
The couple exchanged glances and murmured replies.
Oroku waved her hands in refusal—then finally nodded.)

“Then I humbly ask this of you.”

At my age—am I really playing the Oiwake shamisen for the first time?

Yasubei whispered hoarsely, “A granny who can’t tell a string from a straw rope plucking that shamisen—now that’s a tale for the ages.”

Oroku had no choice about it. Until the appointed hour, she’d have to visit her niece’s place or somewhere—kill time and sweet-talk them proper.

“What a fine mess,” Yasubei snorted.

Tokijirō pressed on, “Now—’scuse my bluntness—about this job... How’s the money changing hands?”

“I haven’t received the money yet,” said Yasubei. “Here’s what we’ll do—I’ll take you to meet the boss, get one ryō myself, head back ahead of you, and hand it over to Ms. Okinu.”

“That would be a tremendous help indeed,” replied Tokijirō with a bow. “I humbly ask for your cooperation. I’ll just let Ms. Okinu know briefly and be off right away.”

(Leaving Yasubei’s room and heading to Okinu’s) “Ms. Okinu—they say a trade saves your hide, don’t they?”
“They came from the countryside to book my Oiwake for a single night, they said.”
“Even I surprised myself.”
“But I’m grateful—in this world where we felt cast aside, there were still folks willing to pick us up.”

“Uncle, are you going somewhere? Can I come too?”

“You can’t come today,” Tokijirō said. “I’ll take you next time.”

“Mr. Toki,” Okinu asked, “will they really give one ryō just to hear your Oiwake?”

“They’re shelling out a whole ryō for it.” He snorted. “You won’t find a sweeter gig out there.”

“Is that so...”
Feeling abandoned, she fell silent.

“Well, I’m off.”
“Boy, listen to your mother and behave yourself, got it?”

“I wanna go...”

Okinu: “If it were possible... I’d want to go too.”

Tokijirō: “Huh?”
(He froze, fearing she’d discovered his role as a hired blade.)

Women were fools.
These suspicions always swirling about—forgive me.
Please forgive me.
Because I can’t stop thinking we’ve shackled your freedom—that even now, when they call you to work out in the provinces, you might vanish forever— (her voice broke).

“That’s resentment talking, Ms. Okinu—why would I ever abandon you and your child?” Tokijirō was a man who had fled his hometown of Kutsukake and been unfeeling toward his parents and siblings, but even so, he still retained a spark of compassion somewhere within him. “Come back I may, come back I may—but I will surely return!”

Yasubei (preparing to go out)

Oroku (making a bundle disguised as her performance costume and being directed by Yasubei to go out into the hallway): "Ms. Okinu."
"To fill in for you, I got hired as a shamisen player."
"It would be good if we had your shamisen, but I recall it's in pawn, isn't it?"
"Then I'll borrow the one from my niece's place."

Yasubei: “Mr. Toki，let’s go.”
“The appointed time for our business is set.”
“It’ll be from sunset till dawn，I reckon.”

Tokijirō: “I’ll head out right after you，sir.”

Yasubei: “Ms. Okinu，I’ll make sure to receive the one ryō daily wage money and bring it back.”

(Exited with Oroku.)

Okinu gripped Tokijirō’s hand. “Forgive me for saying this—but I implore you, come back without fail.”
“I beg of you.”

Tarōkichi: “Uncle, I’ll stay awake waiting.”

Tokijirō: “I’ll be back without fail by tomorrow noon.”

Okinu went as far as the shōji screen to see Tokijirō off. “Please come back without fail,” she said.
She stuck her head into the hallway. “I beg you—please.”

“Will Uncle come back…?”

Okinu: “Oh…”
“You feel that way too?”
(She hugged him tightly and wept.)
(Then began writhing in pain.)

Tarōkichi: “Ah! Something’s wrong!”
“Mom! Mom!”
(Running into the hallway) “Uncle! Uncle, come quick!”

Tokijirō (returning): “What’s wrong?”
“What happened to Mom?”
(Looking at Okinu) “She’s in bad shape.”
(He attended to her.)

Yasubei (returning with Oroku): “What’s wrong?”
“Stay strong now, Ms. Okinu.”

Oroku (laughing): “No need for all this commotion.”
“Wouldn’t want to rile anyone up.”
(Yasubei whispered to Tokijirō and began tending to her.)

Tokijirō: “Ah—right.”
(realizing her labor had begun)

Yasubei (hearing footsteps in the back of the hallway): “Who’s there?”

Gambler (securely fastening his footwear and tiptoeing down the hallway): “In this urgent situation, I beg your forgiveness for the intrusion. Hatchōtoku sends word. He requests that the mediator of the talks come immediately—such is his message.”

Yasubei: “I’ll be there right away.”

Gambler: “Pardon the intrusion.”
(Exits.)

Tokijirō: “Let’s go.”
(turning back to Oroku) “I’m counting on you.”

Oroku: “Having men around is a hindrance. Go on, get going!”
(Settling Okinu onto the futon and propping her up with a pillow) “Taro, go next door. Even if I tell you not to worry about it, go drag that auntie over here.”

“You got it!” Tarōkichi called back as he ran off.

Yasubei: "Let's go."
"In that case, money's what we need most."

Tokijirō: "No mistake."
"Ms. Okinu."
"Just wait calmly."
"Tomorrow noon, I'll be looking after the baby."

(A commotion broke out outside.) “Hm?”

Yasubei: “They couldn’t wait for nightfall—they’ve already started.”
Oh—there was the sound of large doors being slid open at houses all around.

Tokijirō (grabbing Yasubei’s hand): “If we don’t make it in time, it’ll be one hell of an upset.”

Yasubei: “We can’t take the main street anymore.”
“The back alleys are better.”
“This way.”
“This way.”

Tokijirō: "Got it."
Passing under the cherry tree, he and Yasubei broke into a run.

Act II: Battleground on the Outskirts of the Inn

Han of Tomaya, Hyaku of Ōnoki, and several other gamblers from the Seigengata faction were armed and resting.

Gambler 1: “How’d the match turn out in the end?”

Gambler 2: “We won, plain as day.”

Gambler 3: “You sure about that?”

Gambler 2: “Don’t rightly know, but that’s how I’m callin’ it.”

Gambler 1: “But some odd bastard showed up—twice when things were ’bout settled, them bastards turned it around.”
“Hatchōtoku’s got one hell of a tough sonuvabitch on his side too.”

Gambler 3: “No match for an animal like that. Nearly took my damn head clean off.”

Gambler 2: “Who the hell even is that guy?”

Ōnoki: “The bastard they’re all watching? That’s Tokijirō Kutsukake from Shinshū.”

Tomaya: “Crossed paths with that sonuvabitch before. Once in Shimousa. Once here.” His knuckles whitened around his sword hilt. “This time ends with him dead or me bleeding out.”

Ōnoki spat in the dirt. “Kamakichi from Isome bought it thanks to that fucker. We finish this tonight.”

Tomaya: “Everyone, watch closely. If luck’s on my side and I run into that bastard, I’ll put on a fight to the death for you.”

Gambler 1 (thrusting a bamboo spear) “Who’s there?”
“State your name.”

Yasubei (trying to sneak through and being discovered) “It’s me.”
“I’m Yasubei, proprietor of the Yasudomari Inn.”

Gambler 3: “What do you mean ‘still evening’? It’s nearly dawn, you shady old coot—scouting for Hatchō’s lot, ain’t ya?”

Yasubei: “Quit jokin’—this ain’t funny.”
“Been tryin’ to get back to my inn since nightfall, but every which way I turn, Mr. Seigen’s boys got it locked down tight. Been traipsin’ through alleys till I’m caked in mud and bone-tired.”
“Dawn already?”
(Looking up at the sky) Sure enough, the sky was paling.

“Wait until the fight’s over.”

“Have mercy on me.”
“I can’t just sit around being carefree!”
“Never mind me—I’ve got urgent business to deliver.”
“Stop your nonsense and let me through!”

“No good.”

“That’s cruel...”
“Would it kill you to let through one withered old man who’d blow away in a stiff breeze?”

“What’s this? ‘Let him through,’ you say?”
“Don’t you dare give orders here.”
“One more word and your head rolls.”

Yasubei: “If I offended you, I’ll apologize. So let me through.”

Gambler 1: “No good.”

Yasubei: “Still no good?” This was a problem. How shameful before Mr. Toki.

Ōnoki: “What? Mr. Toki—you mean Tokijirō Kutsukake?”

Tomaya: “You know that Toki bastard? I’ll let you through—bring him here.”

Tokijirō emerged abruptly from behind everyone, wearing the long wakizashi from Hatchōtoku with headband, sash, and straw sandals. “Tokijirō Kutsukake’s been brought by the old man—here I am! Old man—get moving through.”

Yasubei: “Right away.”

Ōnoki: “Not a chance—you ain’t getting through.”

Tokijirō: “This breaches our deal—let us pass.”

Tomaya: “No dice.”
“Hey Toki.”
“Forgotten who I am?”
“Last met at Sanzō Muttsuda’s place, eh?”

“Tomaya’s Hantarō and Ōnoki’s Hyakusuke, huh?”

Tomaya: “Fight me!”
(Drew his sword)

Tokijirō: “If you want a fight, have it by yourself. I’m in a hurry here.”
(Grabbing one of the gamblers, he hurled him at Tomaya)

Ōnoki: “You bastard!”
(launching a slashing attack)

Tokijirō fought everyone without drawing his blade, hurling all outside Tomaya’s group into the muddy fields and kicking them down. “You bastard!” he growled, pinning down Tomaya. “Old man.”
“It’s safe now—hurry and go.”
“But you haven’t lost that one ryō I gave you earlier, have you?”

Yasubei: “I have it. It’s safe.”
“A poor man like me wouldn’t lose what’s been entrusted.”
“I’ve got it wrapped tight around my belly.”
“I’m off then.”

Tokijirō: “I’m counting on you.”
(He watched Yasubei depart.)
(Tomaya counterattacked with a slash) “Quit squirming!”
“Normally I’d cut you down, but the current me won’t do any cutting.”
“Instead, take this!”
(He threw them into the muddy field; Ōnoki and the others tried to crawl out, only to tumble back in for Tomaya’s sake.)

Gamblers (Four or five came running): “Ain’t there any allies around?”
“Our forces are in total collapse! Retreat! Run!”
(They fled.)

Tokijirō (takes cover temporarily).
(When he emerges—after Tomaya and Ōnoki have fled) Oh—dawn breaks.
(The sky turns red).
(Whooping shouts can be heard) Oh! Mr．Hatchōtoku’s side is raising a victory cheer．
"In that case…at least my day’s pay is settled．"
"Ah…it’s started to bother me．"
"Let’s go…let’s go…hurry!"
(Abruptly runs toward the inn．)

Act III: The Original Yasudomari

The cherry blossoms had fully bloomed and were already beginning to scatter.
The room where Okinu had been stood desolate, showing only faint remnants of offered incense and flowers.

It was after Tokijirō Kutsukake had departed with Tarōkichi.

Yasubei sat dazedly on the veranda. “Old woman...”
“They must’ve gotten pretty far by now.”

Oroku wiped her tears. “Ah... they’re surely far from the inn now.”

“Excuse me,” said the gambler. “I called out but got no answer at all, so I came in without minding my manners.” He bowed deeply. “I sincerely beg your pardon.”

“Yes, yes,” replied Yasubei, eyeing the men. “These must be from Mr. Hatchōtoku’s group.”

Another gambler stepped forward. “Mr. Hatchōtoku has come to pay his respects.”

Yasubei: “I see.”
“Much obliged.”
“Well, it’s dirty, but come over here.”

“Yes, sir. Exactly as you say.”
(Turned back)

Hatchōtoku: “Please forgive me, Mr. Yasubei—you and your wife.”
(enters with three subordinates in tow)

Yasubei: “Well, c’mon over here.”

Hatchōtoku: “Yes.”
“Pardon the intrusion.”
(Taking his seat) “I must thank you both for everything these past few days.”
“When I later heard the helper you sent was a merchant called Mr. Tokijirō Kutsukake, I slapped my knee thinking ‘Ah! So that’s how it was!’”
“That man fought through them alone—ten against one in numbers—yet somehow our side came out on top in the clash.”
“Today I’ve come to give thanks for that and, while at it, have an urgent consultation with Mr. Tokijirō Kutsukake.”

“With Mr. Tokijirō?”

Yasubei: “We’re too late.”
“Too late.”
“Mr. Tokijirō isn’t here anymore.”
“That’s right—they must’ve already gone five or six chō from the outskirts of the inn.”

Hatchōtoku: “He’s already laced up his straw sandals, eh?”
“What a waste.”
“Now listen here, Yasubei—if he meant to leave, you could’ve given me some warning first. I’ll be nursing a grudge over this.”

Yasubei: “You’re absolutely right.”
“Yesterday was Ms. Okinu’s seventh-day memorial service. Last night he said he’d stay one more day today, but this sudden departure was partly your fault as boss.”

Hatchōtoku: “Did I do something wrong?”

Yasubei: “At yesterday’s memorial service, Boss—through your gambler’s social obligations—you sent people to Ms. Okinu’s rites.
“Now Mr. Tokijirō—not to speak ill before you—is someone who’s grown weary of gamblers.”

Hatchōtoku: “Hmm, I see.”
(With self-reproach)

Yasubei: “Poor Ms. Okinu too used to say she utterly detested gamblers.
“Ms. Okinu ended up being cared for by Mr. Tokijirō—who was neither husband nor lover—and died along with the baby she bore.
“Boss, Ms. Okinu... she kept struggling with every shred of her will to live until dawn.
“Hey, old woman.”

Oroku (wordlessly weeping)

Yasubei: But when Mr. Tokijirō came flying back from the fight like an arrow, she had already turned cold.

“Until her last breath, she kept asking to see Mr. Tokijirō—‘Will he come back? Will he come back?’”

Hatchōtoku said bitterly, “Our trade brings tears to our eyes and makes others weep.”
(He soon gave an order to a subordinate.)
(The subordinate climbed the cherry tree.)

Yasubei nodded. “Mr. Tokijirō said much the same. ‘I won’t raise Tarōkichi—Okinu’s boy—as a gambler,’ he told us.”

Oroku added softly, “With that grandfather in Enshū... I suppose he’ll take the child there.”

Yasubei: “And then Mr. Tokijirō would become a farmer, I suppose. Rather than turning into some gambling boss living in luxury, he kept saying last night—with real conviction—that working the land with hoes to grow crops is what humans are meant to do.”

Subordinate (from atop the cherry tree): “Boss, the outskirts of the inn seem within grasp.”

Hatchōtoku: “Can’t you see Mr. Tokijirō?”

“I can see him.”
“That must be him.”

Hatchōtoku: “Can you see him?”
(To Yasubei) “I’m sorry for damaging your cherry tree—please forgive me.”
“To Mr. Tokijirō’s retreating figure growing distant—you see, I wanted to offer even a single nod of respect.”
“I’m sorry.”
(Clings to the cherry tree)

Act IV: Roadside on the Outskirts of the Inn

Placing the bone box on a tree stump, the unarmed Tokijirō gazed at the inn, lost in reminiscence.
Tarōkichi picked up stones, stacked them, and pressed his hands together in prayer.

Tarōkichi: “Through the meritorious power of chanting the Unji mantra, even the hells we sin-laden beings have created shall be shattered, transforming instantly into a Pure Land…” (chanted a hymn of praise)

Tokijirō: You—who taught you that?
“Uh... Uh...”

Tarōkichi: The old man and old woman at the inn.
“By doing this, dead Mom will hear my voice and feel at ease, they said.”
“Ah... I wanna see Mom.”

“That’s only natural.”

I wanna see her too—meet her and get one thing off my chest, all those thoughts I’ve been carrying around… But for all eternity now, I’ll never get to see Ms. Okinu again.

Tarōkichi (spotting figures creeping closer): “Uncle—ah! It’s dangerous!”

Ōnoki: “You bastard!”
(Slashing downward only to be parried) “Third time’s the charm!”

Tomaya: “This time I’ll take your head without fail.”
(Charges in)

Tokijirō: “Again? You persistent pests.”
(Seizes the enemy’s sword and fights)

Tarōkichi: “Ah! Don’t get killed! Ah! I don’t wanna die!”
(Crying and screaming)

Tokijirō attempted to stab and kill both stumbling, piled-up enemies at once.

Tarōkichi (clinging to Tokijirō's arm): “Uncle! I don’t want to! I don’t want to!”

Tokijirō: “Let go!”
(Finally patting Tarōkichi’s head) “What good would killing them do?”
“Don’t worry, boy.”
“That’s it.”
(Throws the sword back.)

Tarōkichi (holding the bone box): “Uncle, let’s go.”

“Oh, let’s go then.”
“Boy, the inn we’re so familiar with is right over there.”

Tarōkichi: “Grandpa... Grandma... Goodbye.”

Tokijirō: “Live long and happily.”
“You all—you’ve only got one life. Treasure it.”
“There, there...”
(Walks.)

Tomaya remained seated, staring blankly up at the sky.

Ōnoki picked wildflowers from the roadside and offered them to the small stone grave that Tarōkichi had built.

Curtain.

Shōwa 3, June. Written.