Pathway to Japanese Literature

Prologue: Act I – Fukagawa Lumberyard Moat

Act II – Masakichi’s House

Act III – Original Lumberyard Moat

Final Act: Act I – Hida Takayama’s Town

Act II – Nakayama Shichiri (Turnaround)

Kawanami Masakichi Wife Omatsu Sakaya no Sakuzō

Osan Kawanami Kinnosuke ditto Hyakumatsu

Vagrant Tokunosuke ditto Sanjirō ditto Kōtarō

Ditto Onaka Ditto Fujisuke Ditto old shop manager

Bunta of Kamekyūbashi Kobiki Jihei Hunter

Feed store apprentices, terrified passersby, a couple searching for vacant houses, sake shop apprentices, the people of Fukagawa, the people of Takayama, and others.

[Prologue]

Act I: Fukagawa Lumberyard Moat

The lumberyard moat of Fukagawa Kibayashi.
The autumn sun had begun to tilt westward.

In the moat floated squared timber.
At the water's edge stood trees; to one side lay the sawyer's workbench, to the other, timber hauled ashore.

Sawyer Kobiki Jihei positioned a beam on the sawhorse, rhythmically driving wedges into the kerf as he raised and lowered his knees, working the saw with a persistent *zui-zui*.

Kawanami Sanjirō—nearing fifty—slid rollers beneath the warped timber, two or three wooden cylinders, straightening the grain while chanting "Heave-ho!"
The bamboo pike pole he'd wielded—marked with the Kawanami crew's distinctive hook—rested against a trunk.

Kawanami’s Fujisuke, Kinnosuke, and the others drove their pike poles into the lumber and pulled in rhythm, answering Sanjirō’s “Heave-ho!” chant with their own “Heave!”

Sanjirō: Heave-ho!

Fujisuke and the others: Heave!

Sanjirō raised his hand: “Hold! Hold! We’ll stop here.”
“Now get that lever ready—I’ll pull out the rollers.”

“Hey Kinnosuke! Over here.”
He switched his pike pole to a wooden lever and slid it beneath the lumber with a grunt.

Fujisuke called out: “Wait! Let me help with that lever!”
He applied pressure— “There! Heave now!”—straining with effort.

Kinnosuke and the others groaned in unison.

“Just... a bit... more!” Sanjirō urged through clenched teeth.
“There—got it!”
He yanked out one roller. “Good work.”
“Next one!”
Gripping the next roller, he began pulling.

Osan (twenty-two or twenty-three years old), a waitress at the renowned flag inn, pretended to be passing by as she watched the Kawanami crew’s work.

Kobiki Jihei lumbered heavily toward the kerf to start driving in a wedge when he noticed Osan watching him.
Osan glanced around here and there as she found herself unable to spot the man she sought among the Kawanami crew.

Jihei began his work with a sly grin.

Osan instinctively stepped forward and tripped over a single roller that had been pulled out and left lying there.

Osan gasped.
(Staggering, she sat down on the ground.)

Fujisuke (turning his back to Osan as he worked the lever): “Who is it?”
“A woman like you comin’ to disturb the workplace—if you’re in some impure state, we might end up cursed or somethin’.”

Sanjirō laughed. “Shut your trap, Fuji! Get a good look at her face before barkin’ orders.”

“She’s right there!” Kinnosuke added. “Ain’t nobody else it could be, ’san.”

Osan—already back on her feet and dusting off her kimono—bowed slightly. “My apologies. This klutz didn’t mean to go causin’ a ruckus.”

Fujisuke: “Oh—it’s just Masa-chan’s thrashin’ about. This guy’s no good. Then I shouldn’t’ve crossed blades with him. Osan, I’m sorry—didn’t mean no harm by what I said.”

Sanjirō: “That’s right—exactly so. He just spoke without thinking.”

Kinnosuke: “Osan, you need somethin’?”
“Masa-chan’s workin’ over there—want me to call ’im?”

Osan: “No… no particular reason—”

Sanjirō (to Kinnosuke): “Shut your clueless mouth!”
“Ain’t like today’s Osan-chan’s first time comin’ round the worksite.”

Osan: “Oh...”

Sanjirō: “Now Osan, I don’t want you gettin’ angry at us. I ain’t teasin’ you or makin’ sport of you. It’s just my loose tongue flappin’ free. What’re you fussin’ about? A woman who’s near ’bout a wife bein’ sweet on the man who’ll be her husband—that’s the finest thing there is! Over at my place, from dawn till I drag home at dusk, that blasted wife of mine forgets her man even exists.”

Jihei: “Wives ’cross every household’re cut from the same cloth, I tell ya.”

Kinnosuke: “Huh.”
“You too, Mr. Kobiki.”
“What—can’t even get your wife to fancy you?”

Fujisuke: “Speakin’ of which Kin—you ’n me bein’ single makes life easier.”

Osan: “Oh, everyone’s teasin’ me!”
“You’ve all got such sharp tongues.”
(starts to leave)

Sanjirō: “Hey hey, hold on there Osan-chan—ain’t no call to rush off like that.”
“It’s ’bout time Masa-chan comes up. Why don’t you take a breather an’ wait?”

Osan: “Oh, but I’ll come again.”
“Goodbye, everyone.”

Fujisuke: “Since we crossed blades, how ’bout I take a message for you?”

Osan: "Oh... (growing uneasy) What message would that be?"

Kinnosuke: "Come on, it's obvious—it's just about what to bring for the evening side dish."

Osan (relieved and regaining her cheer): "Oh..."
"Oh ho ho!"
"Goodbye."
(Exits.)

Kinnosuke (seeing Osan off)

Fujisuke: “Hey hey, Kin. Ain’t no use droolin’ over her no matter how much you try. Between you and Masa-chan, what you’ve got to offer ain’t even in the same league, see.”

Kinnosuke: “That ain’t it, Fuji. Lately, Osan-san ain’t been actin’ a bit off, don’t you think? I ended up seein’ her off without thinkin’.”

Sanjirō: “There you go spoutin’ nonsense again. Enough already.”

Fujisuke (to Kinnosuke): “What’s that about?”

Sanjirō: “Even though I told you not to ask—ain’t no helpin’ it.”
(Gathering rollers and pry bars)

Kinnosuke: Lately, Osan-san’s been lookin’ noticeably haggard, ain’t she?

“Now that you mention it, I’d noticed it too. I wonder why that is...”

“She’s probably just feelin’ poorly,” Sanjirō dismissed. “Ain’t no use fussin’ over another man’s woman—makes you look desperate.”

Kinnosuke leaned closer, sawdust clinging to his sleeves. “That’s the thing—she acts all floaty when folks are ’round, but catch her alone? Stares at nothin’ with them wet eyes like a kicked pup. Saw it myself yesterday dusk.”

“You too, huh?” Sanjirō spat, hefting a pry bar.

Kinnosuke (to Sanjirō): “Uncle, you knew about that too?”

Sanjirō: “Hmm.”
“I’d noticed it long ago.”
“But anyone startin’ a household’s got hardships mixed with the joy.”
“Even Osan-chan’d make a troubled face sometimes, let out a sigh or two.”
“Who’d go blabbin’ every little thing as gossip fodder?”

Kinnosuke: “Then I wouldn’t give a damn—but there’s more brew’n here.”
“Couldn’t shake it off, so I went ’n asked Masa-chan earlier.”

Sanjirō: “You idiot! You’re such an idiot! Who in their right mind would bluntly ask the man himself somethin’ like that?”

Kinnosuke: “I didn’t ask him straight out! But here’s the thing—Masa-chan said—not that I’m braggin’—that he ain’t done nothin’ to make his own woman go sighin’ like that.”

Fujisuke: “So he don’t know squat, huh?”

Sanjirō: “Enough already! Let’s take a break. Let’s take a damn break.”

They laid the pike pole across the lumber, using levers and rollers as makeshift seats as all three sank into idle chatter.

Jihei had sawdust in his eye; he tried everything but couldn’t get it out and was struggling.

Kawanami Masakichi (twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old), having finished his work in the moat, hoisted the pike pole onto his shoulder and crossed over the lumber floating in the moat with a light rhythm.

Jihei: “This ain’t good.”
(Blows air into his own eye) Hff, hff.
“This ain’t good.”
“Hff, hff. This ain’t workin’.”

Masakichi (leaping onto land): “What’s with that look, Jihei? You got sawdust in your eye or somethin’?”

“It’s Masa-san,” said Jihei. “What the hell—my damn eye went and jumped into the sawdust. Now I’m in real trouble here.” He blew air into his eye with sharp huffs.

Masakichi leaned closer. “Your eye jumped into the sawdust? Daft little bastard, ain’t ya?”

“Huh?” Jihei blinked, then barked out a laugh. “Did I mix up my words? Hah! You’re makin’ me look the fool here.”

“That’s my line,” Masakichi shot back. Propping his pike pole against a timber, he grabbed Jihei’s chin. “Hold still—I’ll dig it out.” His thumb scraped crust from Jihei’s eyelid. “Filthy as a stray dog’s bowl. You even know what washin’ up means?”

“Masa-san’s got the build of a proper man and fire in his belly, but that mouth of his ain’t worth spit.”

“Flip your upper lid back a touch more.”

“There… Like this?”

“There—got it out.”
“Oh, that eye too?”
“You’re really makin’ a project of this, ain’t ya?”

Okatsuppari Kamekyūbashi no Buntarō (thirty-seven or thirty-eight years old) came after the three Kawanami workers on their tobacco break and looked at each of their faces in turn.

Kinnosuke: “Oh! It’s Boss.”
(He harbored anxiety.)

Buntarō: “Kinnosuke? Don’t you dare pull anything like last time again.”

Kinnosuke: “Yes sir, I won’t start any more stupid fights like that.”

Sanjirō (exchanged glances with Fujisuke and stayed silent)

Buntarō: “Who’s this Masakichi? You?”

Fujisuke: “Masa-chan ain’t here.”

“Hmm, that Osan’s takin’ the day off today?”
“So they’re holed up together at home, eh?”

“No.”
“He’s on the Oshu lumber in the First Moat.”

“So he’s in the moat.”
“Hey—any of you lot hear Masa say somethin’ ’bout Osan?”

“Huh? I definitely ain’t heard any such talk.”

Buntarō: “I see.”
“Where’s the moat where Masa’s ridin’ lumber?”
“Hey Kinnosuke—who’s that Kawanami?”

Kinnosuke (reluctantly): “That’s Masa-chan, you see.”

“So it’s that guy?”
“Kinnosuke—don’t go tellin’ him about me.”

"Hey, Kinnosuke."
(His anxiety deepened again.)

Buntarō (to Sanjirō and the others): "You lot keep quiet too."
(Flashing his jitte briefly) "This is official business."

“Heh. Official business.”

Buntarō barked in a pompous tone even as the men he’d ordered to stay quiet kept right on yapping.
“This is all just for show,” he thought, eyeing the tobacco addicts’ pig-headed persistence. “Might as well take a smoke break.”

Kinnosuke: (taking off his work clothes and placing them on lumber) Boss, have yourself a seat.

Buntarō: Right.
(to Sanjirō and the others) “How’s it been? Turned out anything decent lately?”

Sanjirō and Fujisuke gave vague replies with mere nods of their heads and sullenly disengaged.

Jihei: “Thanks much. You’re a proper lifesaver.”

“Quit with the thanks already. Workin’ folk help each other out.”

Jihei: “Sayin’ that just makes me want to thank you harder.”
(Taking his work seat and preparing to set the saw teeth.)

“You’re quite the smooth talker, Masakichi.”
He approached the three.

Buntarō approached Masakichi, blocked his path, and stared at his face.

Masakichi stared intently at Buntarō’s face and attempted to move toward Sanjirō and the others.

Buntarō brushed past Masakichi and grabbed his wrist.

Masakichi flushed crimson and shook him off. “What d’you think you’re doin’?”

Buntarō wore a cold, thin smile. “So you’re Masakichi.”

“Huh? I’m Masakichi, but...”

“This here’s who I am.” He flashed his jitte briefly. “Just kiddin’ around.”

“Ain’t funny messin’ with folks.” Masakichi’s voice hardened. “What’s this about?”

“Don’t get lippy with me.” Buntarō tapped the jitte against his palm. “Might be a stingy bastard, but these ‘official business’ characters I’m carryin’? Shine like gold-leaf stamps, I tell ya.” He leaned closer. “Listen up, Masa—if somethin’ comes along you can’t handle? Come see me. Your pal Kinnosuke knows the score.” The jitte gleamed as he turned. “I’ll look out for you proper—like family.”

“Oh, is that so?” Masakichi retorted. “First off, there ain’t gonna be any such business. Then goodbye.”

“If that’s how it is,” Buntarō sneered, “all’s right with the world—no need for trouble.” He turned on his heel and left.

Masakichi spat twice into the sawdust. “What a damn bastard,” he muttered. “Flaunting his authority like some relentless enforcer.” The taste of bile rose in his throat. “Where the hell does that piece of gutter trash crawl out from?”

Kinnosuke: “The other day in front of Niken Tea House—when I got into a fight with someone from Tsukuda and injured the guy—it was that bastard who covered for me.”

Masakichi: So Kamekyūbashi no Buntarō was that man? When I’d asked you before, you made him out to be some big-time operator—but seeing him now, he ain’t half what you cracked him up to be. Can’t stand that bastard.

“Masa-chan—you ain’t done somethin’ to make that guy hold a grudge ’gainst ya, have ya?”

“I got no clue myself, but did ya catch that kinda vibe from ’im?”

“Told ’em not to say anythin’...”

Sanjirō: “Ain’t this gettin’ outta hand? What a load o’ crap.”

Masakichi: “Hearin’ that’s got me worried—don’t care if it’s good or bad. Spit it out.”

Fujisuke: “But they say…”

Sanjirō: “Fuji—you got too loose a tongue, I tell ya.”

Fujisuke: “Then I ain’t sayin’ nothin’.”

Masakichi: “I see. So it’s a story you can’t tell me straight.”

Sanjirō: “Masa-chan—don’t go gettin’ sore now. Just nonsense I shut down.”

Masakichi: “Mostly got it figured already. Fuji—it’s ’bout Osan, ain’t it?”

Kinnosuke: Huh.
(Feeling intense unease)

“That’s right,” said Fujisuke. “You knew?”

“Yeah,” said Masakichi. “Does everyone know? Has it spread through the whole damn town—am I the only one left in the dark?”

“Wh-what’re you sayin’?” Fujisuke stammered. “The story’s… different from what you think.”

Of course it was wrong. If he didn’t know twice as much about Osan as anyone else, then none of it meant shit.

Sanjirō: “Masa-chan—you’re gettin’ the wrong idea, I tell ya. Since it’s come to this, I’ll say it straight—what that guy heard was just whether you three had said somethin’ about a woman. That’s all there is to it.”

Kinnosuke: (earnestly, trying to placate Masakichi) “That’s right, I tell ya.”

Fujisuke: “And then this uncle here answered back and said he hadn’t heard nothin’.”

Masakichi: “Then we’ll leave it at that.”

Apprentice: (coming to call the sawyer) “They were sayin’ the hemlock we sawed yesterday’s the wrong size. Mr. Jihei—c’mere for a sec.”

Jihei: “That can’t be right—I did it exactly by the ink markings.”
(Muttering complaints, he left with the apprentice.)

Kinnosuke: “Masa-chan—your face looks pale. You seemed off this mornin’ too—you catch a cold or somethin’?”

Masakichi: A cold?
Yeah, that must be it.

Sanjirō (to cut off the conversation): “C’mon, let’s head to the Second Moat.”

Sanjirō, Fujisuke, and Kinnosuke divided up the tools and carried them.

Masakichi was lost in thought.

Sanjirō: “Masa-chan—you’re comin’ to the Second Moat too, right?”

Masakichi: “I ain’t goin’.”

Kinnosuke (startled)

Fujisuke: Why?

“There’s still two juttin’ logs left,” Masakichi said. “Gotta finish ’em off proper.”

Sanjirō: “Huh. Right, ’spose.”
“Then we’ll go on ahead.”

(Exits with Fujisuke.)

Kinnosuke: “Masa-chan—you really ain’t right, are ya.”

Masakichi: “I ain’t done nothin’.”

Kinnosuke: "You shouldn’t hide it, I tell ya."
"I’ve been with you since we were brats."
"I’m the one who knows your mug best, I tell ya."

Masakichi: "Huh."

Kinnosuke: “That look in your eyes—I ain’t seen it since that big brawl at the Hachiman festival three, four years back. You’re makin’ those scary eyes ’cause you’re pissed at someone, I tell ya.”

Masakichi: “Kinnosuke—can’t hide it from you no more. I... let’s drop it. Can’t talk.”

Kinnosuke: “You—could it be… hey, could it be… this is about Osan?”

“You knew all along—this bastard knew too!”

“Don’t take it that way. I don’t know a damn thing, but if you’re suspectin’ Osan-san of somethin’ strange, you’re dead wrong—that’s what I’m tellin’ ya.”

“How the hell can you tell me not to suspect Osan while claimin’ you don’t know a damn thing? You—you know more about this whole mess than I do.”

“Kinnosuke! What’re you sayin’?”

Masakichi grabbed Kinnosuke by the collar. “Talk! Spit it out! Who’s the bastard? Tell me!”

“Kinno—what’re you doin’? Hey Masa-chan—what’re you doin’?”

Masakichi snapped: “You can’t say a damn thing! I don’t know who the bastard is, but he’s definitely above me. That’s why you can’t spit it out either. If he were someone on equal footing, you’d have told me straight up.”

Kinnosuke: “That ain’t it—I swear I don’t know nothin’.”

“What kinda shit you spewin’?” Masakichi growled. “You’re too scared of that bastard to talk. Grr... You goddamn coward. It’s Buntarō of Kamekyūbashi, ain’t it?”

Kinnosuke: “No way… with a bastard like that.”
“Osan-san ain’t that kinda person.”

Masakichi: “Then who is it—you can’t say, can ya?”
“Don’t tell me not to ask!”
“I’ll find out myself and settle this damn mess.”

Kinnosuke: “This ain’t good—th-that look in your eyes… scares me shitless.”
“Hey Masa-chan—cool that hot head of yours.”
“First off—accusin’ Osan-san of somethin’ that ain’t even real? That’s just cruel.”

Masakichi: “What I do’s my business.”
“Osan’s mine.”
“If anyone—anyone—tries takin’ what’s mine—even him—”
“Goddamn it! Like hell I’ll swallow this!”

“No one’s done a damn thing to you!”
“Then why’d that flashy bastard from the magistrate’s office come hasslin’ me with his creepy threats?”

“That’s a whole different matter, you.”

“Damn noisy!”
“Get lost.”
“Why won’t you leave?”

“I’ll go.”

“But...”

I'm all alone—no parents, no siblings.
No relatives either.
Times like this are so sad—there's no one to cry and listen to me talk.

Kinnosuke conceded that much.
"I'm like a brother to you, Masa-chan. Don'tcha get that I'm tryin' my damn hardest here?"

Masakichi: "My bad, Kinnosuke. Did I say I was all alone? My bad. Don't worry—even someone like me wouldn't do somethin' that reckless."

“You really mean that?”
“Huh? Masa-chan—is that true?”

“It’s true.”
“Well—looks like we’ve been slackin’ off. Bad for appearances.”
“I’ll go move the trimmings over to raft number three.”
“You get your ass over to number two moat and work.”

“Then promise me you’ll sit down tonight—just the two of us—and talk this through properly.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Steady now. Just earlier, Osan-san came to see your face like she always does. It’s pitiful how you’re suspecting her even so.”

“So she came—left without sayin’ a damn word to me.”

“That’s ’cause everyone was here—she felt awkward and left.”

“Whatever.”

“Then let’s head back together.”

“Yeah.”
(With the resolve to begin work, he takes up the pike pole.)

Kinnosuke (leaves with concern)

Masakichi (couldn't bring himself to start working, was sunk in thought).
(Shouts of lumber hauling could be heard.) "Damn it!"
"I don't give a damn."

Osan (comes quietly toward the sawyer’s frame.
(Lacking the courage to call out, she hesitates.)

“Osan? That you?”

Osan: “Ah, Masakichi.”
(She came to Masakichi’s side but, pinned by his gaze, knelt on the ground.)

Masakichi (planted his pike pole in the ground and glared down at Osan): “Come here—I ain’t lettin’ you say no.”

Osan (knowing the time for resolve had finally come): "Yes... I'll go."
(She bowed her head heavily.)

“Come on, go.”
(Pulling her up) “Ain’t you gonna go?”
(Shoves her)

Osan: “Ah—”
(Staggers.)

Masakichi (burning with hatred, looking as though he might kill at any moment)

Act II: Masakichi's House

Viewed from inside facing the entrance: Masakichi’s rented house where he lived alone. Afternoon gradually faded into dusk.

The white paper pasted on the household shrine suggested that the last blood relative had died within the past year.

The interior of the house spoke of Masakichi’s fastidiousness.
On the wall hung Masakichi’s change of clothes.
In the earthen floor were an axe, nail box, hammer, backing board, and other things.
On one side—though it could hardly be called a garden—a bamboo fence partitioned the space, where autumn grasses and a few trees were planted.

On one side was an empty house, considerably dilapidated.
The storm shutters stood open, with no houses in front of them.

A peddler’s voice could be heard.

A married couple entered the vacant house.
The husband consulted his wife; she made a hand gesture meaning “No way we’re taking this house,” and together they left without closing the entrance door.

A cart passed along the main street.
“Heave-ho! Hoi!
Hoi!
Ho-tei! Hoi!” came the shout.

Osan, looking sorrowful, and Masakichi, his expression grim, passed before the vacant house.

Osan—the door to Masakichi’s house opened, and she was thrust inside.

Masakichi closed the entrance, glared at Osan, forced her up to the main floor, searched the corner of the earthen area, found an old yoke used by lumber workers that his hand touched, hurled it into the earthen space, took the nail box and hammer, and nailed the entrance door shut.

Osan (terrified by Masakichi’s actions, the sound of nails filling her with self-reproach; prostrates herself on the tatami, sobbing)

Masakichi (throws down the hammer and comes onto the tatami) “Osan.”
“Am I that scary to you?”
“Yeah, I ain’t cryin’. The one who wants to cry ain’t you—it’s me.”
“I’ve got no family, no one—you know that, don’t you?”
“So for me, the only woman is the lifeline that keeps me alive.”
“You’ve damn well forgotten that you’re my lifeline.”
“That’s too damn cruel!”
“If you’ve come to hate me, why don’t you just treat me cruelly?”
“If you’d just treated me coldly, I could’ve accepted our bond was gone. But no—you kept up appearances, pretending to be devoted to me like before.”
“You were plannin’ to sweet-talk me again today, weren’t you? And still you had the damn nerve to come here.”

“Th-that’s too much! Too much!”
(Masakichi—you fox! Stop trying to bewitch me!)
“No matter what you think, there’s no change in my heart. Even now—trembling under those terrifying eyes of yours glaring at me—I’d never think of hating you or finding you repulsive.”
“Th-that silver tongue of yours,” he said. “You trying to drag me down to hell? Damn it—I ain’t fallin’ for your sweet talk no more.”
“Ah—I want you to kill me even more. I should probably die.”

“So you’re tellin’ me to kill ya?”
“Fine—I’ll kill ya then.”
(He brought the yoke from the earthen floor.)

Osan cowered against the wall. “You’ll kill me.”
“Kill me.”
“But in return—in return for that.”

“What was that?”

“Just understand this heart of mine that loves you—otherwise, I don’t want to die! Even if I’m killed, I won’t be able to die completely.”

(Collapses weeping)

Masakichi (throws down the yoke): “With that much resolve... why’d you trample all over me?
“You witch—even now, you’re schemin’ to deceive me.”

Osan: “No—that ain’t true! That ain’t true!
“Look... you... this body ain’t yours alone no more.”

Masakichi: “There! See that?!”
“You damn beast!”

(Took the yoke.)

Osan: “Wait!”
(Clutching Masakichi’s arm) “Wait—there was no way out!
I’m a woman too weak to resist.
First they ensnared me in their plot—then used money’s sway to crush any refusal. The landlady and all my coworkers sided with them—even Buntarō the officer joined in, threatening and tormenting me every way imaginable! How could I ever fight back alone?”

“Y-you think I’ll listen to that damn excuse?!”
“Coerced? That’s a fuckin’ ancient trick!”

“Then Masakichi—if you were me, what would you do?”

“I’d protect myself with my life!”
“If those words you’re always spoutin’—’bout never forgettin’ me all alone—if they ain’t lies... then I’d guard my body with my life!”
“Why didn’t you gut that bastard right there? If you’d saved yourself that way, I’d have wept for joy—you can’t even imagine.”

“That way of thinking is a man’s selfishness.”
“A woman couldn’t come up with such a thought—couldn’t possibly do it either.”

“Then why didn’t you die? With that body bathed in another’s filth, you shamelessly came near me—I hate that mindset of yours.”
It made me sad more than hateful.

Osan: “I’d been thinking about dying since that time, but...”

Masakichi: “Then why didn’t you die?”

Osan: “But... because I... I still had lingering attachments to you—that’s why I couldn’t die.”
(Collapses sobbing)

Masakichi (throws down the yoke and stares at Osan)

Kinnosuke passed by the empty house—tried to open the door to Masakichi’s house—saw it wouldn’t budge—went into the empty house and paced about, searching for any way into the neighboring place.

Masakichi: I went too far—only thinking about myself, never once considering your situation.
I was wrong.

“Osan... let some of that hatred fade.”

“Hmm.”
“Women are weak—that’s their downfall.”

“Now... I can die.”

Kinnosuke (gradually noticed the paper pasted on the partition wall and peeled it away—beneath lay a hole exposing the bamboo lath.)
(Twisting the bamboo lath) “It’s me! It’s me!”
“Let me in.”

Masakichi (covering the wall hole with a backboard from the earthen floor) Who the hell was this?
Couldn't possibly be that Buntarō from Kamekyūbashi sniffing around about my slip-ups?

Osan: No—please don't ask about that... Hearing it would only sicken me more.

Masakichi: Why won't you spit it out?
(Seeing her evasion reignites his fury) Damn bitch!
(Seizes the yoke)

“Yes...”
“What do I care what becomes of me?”
“You—the name of the man who used money and brute force to drive me, me, into this ruin—say it.”

“Who is it?” Masakichi demanded. “Which bastard?”

“It’s the owner of the feed store where you work every day,” Osan replied.

Kinnosuke—finding the wall wouldn’t give way—darted out to borrow a tool from neighbors.

“Th-that guy...the feed store owner...” Masakichi’s voice cracked. “It’s true? No mistake?”

“I stayed silent because you’re indebted to him,” Osan said.

Masakichi (with murderous intent): Right.

“Huh? You—wh-where’re you goin’?”

Masakichi shoved Osan back. “Once I get that money out, I ain’t givin’ a rat’s ass how this shitty world turns!”
“Bastard! This cash comes from sweat-soaked work—ain’t no charity handout!”
“The boss hears this—hmph!—he’d piss himself laughin’.”
“Just you fuckin’ wait!”
He thrust aside her clinging hands, knocked her flat, smashed through the bamboo fence, and burst out into the night.

Osan collapsed weeping, then drew the razor of resolve from her obi, took down Masakichi’s change of clothes hanging on the wall, pressed them tightly to her chest, and killed herself.

Kinnosuke (rushed into the empty house with a hatchet, broke through the partition wall into Masakichi’s house) “Masakichi! Masakichi—Osan! Osan!”
“Masakichi.”

One or two neighbors rushed to the entrance of the empty house, showed their faces, and peered inside.

Dusk had completely settled.

Scene 3: The Lumberyard Moat Again

The lumberyard moat on that moonlit night.
The lumber that the sawyer had been cutting split into two—one piece lay on the ground, the other was placed on the frame, becoming tomorrow’s work.
The hayashi practice from Sunamura drifted in fragments.
Two or three passing men fled past in terror.
Masakichi (carrying a yoke, the string of a purse filled with money around his arm, dragging it along as he staggered forward—having committed murder).

Kinnosuke (following from behind): “Masakichi.”
(was rendered speechless)

Masakichi (fumbling his mouth open, with great effort): “Kinnosuke...?”

“Y-you... you did it.”

“I did.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“That feed store bastard took out his wallet—‘Let this settle it’—had the gall to say ‘What’s a mere maid worth anyway?’”
“Like hell I will!”
“Damn it! That brazen bastard.”
(started walking)

“Wh-where are you going?”

“I’m going home.”
“Osan’s waitin’.”

Kinnosuke: “It’s no use—Osan... she slit her throat with a razor... clutching your clothes... she’s dead.”

Masakichi (after a long silence): “I see.”
“She’s dead?”
(Dropping the yoke weakly) “Ugh... So she’s dead.”

Kinnosuke: “You’ve gotta run away.”

Masakichi: "I... I'm all alone again now."
(He walks)

Kinnosuke (watching him go): "Can't even look..."
"That poor dead Osan."
"But you still breathin', Masakichi—that's the real pity."
(He collapses weeping onto the lumber)

Did I die?
I see—Osan’s dead, huh.
(Staggers away)

[Final Act]

Act II: The Town of Hida Takayama

A section of the town of Hida Takayama facing the Miyagawa River.

A pitch-dark night in late September.

Lamps glowed along the Miyagawa River’s banks, their scattered lights visible on Shiroyama’s distant foothills and midslope. The Miyagawa’s current mirrored the lamps’ trembling glow.

A kokyū’s stifled whine and bamboo clappers’ mournful rhythm drifted faintly at first—the music swelling as the singing drew near.

A man’s voice echoed through the darkness: “Though no birds cross Takayama’s peaks, dwell here and know the capital’s cherished warmth.”

A woman’s plaintive cry answered nearby: “Hida’s lofty heights may pierce clouds, yet lowly Edo stays veiled from sight.”

A section of Hida Takayama’s Miyagawa riverbank—the same location as before—on a day of splendid autumn clarity.

The houses along the Miyagawa River’s banks were built in a style reminiscent of Kyoto, with plank roofs topped with round stones.

There were trees here and there.

In the distant Shiroyama, autumn leaves had begun to mingle among the foliage.

Along the near riverbank stood several white-walled storehouses of sake breweries; a small shrine rested upon a stone pedestal, before which sat a low wooden fence enclosing a single pine tree.
At the edge of that area was the entrance to a sake brewery.

The sound of barrel-making drifted in serenely.

At Miyanohana Sake Brewery, young workers—Sakuzō, Hyakumatsu, Kōtarō—alongside apprentices, barrel craftsmen, townsfolk, and locals stood and crouched, watching the young men’s pole-pushing.

A single apprentice came flying over, placed the fingers of both hands on his face, made an ugly face, and signaled that the old manager had arrived.

Suddenly there were those who worked and those who left.

The old manager came while looking through the ledger.
He glanced at the people and left.
Everyone let out a small sigh of relief and watched him leave.

Hyakumatsu: “We didn’t get scolded.”
“But who’d think he’d have such a fine voice? Shows you can’t judge by looks.”

Kōtarō: “Nobody really believes that old man’s got Takayama’s best pipes.”

Sakuzō: “Again this year at the Bon dance from the sixteenth—no one came close to his singing.”
“Not Miyanojirō, not Hirayu Mata, not even Iwase Kakusaburō could match him.”

Craftsman (singing a Bon dance tune):
*At Yaga Ueno gazing toward Takayama*
*Light indigo curtains swaying soft...*

The group clapped their hands, some adding rhythmic vocal interjections.

Hyakumatsu: “Well done! Well done!”
“That’s the old windbag’s melody to a tee.”
“Hey Yokichi! Next autumn, use that voice to set Sakura Mountain Hachimangu’s grounds abuzz!”

Old Manager (turning back): “Who just did that?”
(Everyone cowers.) “Not here to scold you.”
“That was fine singing.”
“And commendable—you’ve remembered my tune well.”
“Yokichi—was that you?”
“I see.”
“Had I known that voice, I’d have made you lead this year’s Bon dance.”
“All that said—singing’s tolerable on occasion, but don’t neglect your work.”
(Exits)

Everyone left except Sakuzō, Hyakumatsu, and Kōtarō.

Kōtarō: "When it comes to that old chatterbox, he only laughs three or four times a year."
"He's an old man who truly detests laughing much at all."

“But...” Sakuzō began. “Yesterday at dusk, he smiled by Raft Bridge.”

“Why?” Hyakumatsu pressed.

“You know those young musicians—the wife plays kokyū while her husband claps bamboo sticks? They’ve been performing around here lately.”

“Hmm, them?” Kōtarō grunted. “When they first came to Takayama through Miyatoge Pass, I hear the woman removed her sedge hat to drink water—Mohei saw it happen. Said we’ve got no women that fine here in town.”

Sakuzō: “That might be true—though I haven’t seen her face, she does have a fine figure.”

Hyakumatsu: “Are you saying even the great Old Manager softened his glare because the woman’s so comely?”

Sakuzō: “Nah, it’s the song. That woman’s mournful melody—the one that makes you tear up when you hear it. The old man was so moved he cracked a smile.”
“That song is exactly like Takayama’s autumn.”
“Autumn here is short; winter will soon be upon us.”

Kōtarō: “Speaking of autumn, I hear this year’s chestnuts are thriving.”

Sakuzō: “The lyrics of the song the Old Manager heard were... what was it... ah, right.
‘In the moment of saying farewell, within the forest’s shade—faintly visible is a sedge hat.’”

Kōtarō: Pathetic lyrics, huh.

Sakuzō: “They must’ve drifted here from Edo or somewhere like that.”

Hyakumatsu: “Edo? Speaking of Edo—it’s seventy-eight ri from here through rugged mountain passes.” “So they crossed all those treacherous roads from such afar?”

Kōtarō: “It’ll end up being some love trouble—happens all the time.”

Hyakumatsu and Kōtarō hoisted barrels onto their shoulders and departed.

Sakuzō reached for a barrel himself.

Kamekyūbashi no Buntarō (thirty-eight or thirty-nine years old) passes by with his wife Omatu.

Buntarō (to Sakuzō): Young man.
“This wasn’t a dead end after all.”

Sakuzō: If you go around the storehouse, you’ll come out at Raft Bridge.
“Oh! I thought it was someone else—Mr. Buntarō?”

Buntarō: Oh, it's you. You’ve grown quite a bit.
“I came over here yesterday.”
“Last year, what with erecting a large gravestone for my parents and all, I meant to come sooner, but official duties kept piling up endlessly.”
“This time I’ve managed to come for the memorial service, and I’ll be staying at Kanbei’s place below Daioji Temple in Higashiyama for a while, so come visit. I’ll tell you all about Edo’s bustle.”

“Once Dad says it’s alright, I’ll come visit.”

Buntarō: “Hmm.”
“Still can’t go out on your own yet?”
(Exchanging glances with Omatu and sneering) “That’s why country folks are such a damn nuisance.”

“Being a country bumpkin’s fine by me. I don’t know about Edo, but here in Takayama—since it’s a place where people aren’t so free with their words—I can’t go out to play without telling my parents.”

“Hmph.”
“Suit yourself.”
“Hey—gawkin’ with that dumb look ain’t helpin’ shit. Let’s move.”

“Country folks have such foul mouths and empty heads,” Omatu sneered. “Here I stand right under his nose, yet he offers no greeting—just keeps leering like some stray dog.” She clicked her tongue. “Disgraceful.”

“Let it lie,” Buntarō grunted. “The oaf’s not worth spit.”

Sakuzō squinted at Omatu’s gaudy kimono. “This your wife? Last time you brought a different woman.”

“What’s it to you?” Buntarō barked.

“Detestable wretch,” Omatu muttered as they stalked off.

Old Manager (pausing while about to leave): “That’d be Bunsa’s boy Bunta, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s Bunta’s fellow,” said Sakuzō.

The Old Manager scowled. “What a nuisance—that unpleasant wretch has returned. That guy’s had no backbone since he was a brat. Once he starts a fight or argument, he’ll nurse a grudge till Judgment Day—a two-faced sly fox. That’s why I’ve loathed that man since way back.”

“He’ll likely head straight to Edo soon,” Sakuzō replied. “The sooner he’s gone, the better.”

“Outrageous that such scum’s entrusted with a *jitte* in Edo!” The Old Manager spat. “If this were Takayama, we’d have tossed him straight into the clink.”
(He exits)

Sakuzō tried to shoulder the sake barrel again.

Down-and-out and wandering aimlessly, Tokunosuke (twenty-four or twenty-five) and Onaka (twenty-one or twenty-two) arrived.
Tokunosuke played bamboo clappers while Onaka bowed her kokyu fiddle, eking out a living through door-to-door performances.

Sakuzō shouldered a sake barrel, glanced back at the two, and left.

Onaka experienced dizziness from exhaustion and hunger.

Tokunosuke: “What do you want to do? You seem unwell again.”
“You should rest here for a bit.”

Onaka: “Oh...”
“Lately, it’s been nothing but you taking care of me every single day. I’m so sorry.”

Tokunosuke: “You’re saying that again.”
“When you’re drifting through unfamiliar lands on an unknown journey, your only allies are you and me—just the two of us.”
“Caring for you and being cared for by you—isn’t that just how it goes between us?”

“When you’re so kind to me,” Onaka said, her voice fraying like worn silk, “I feel... I feel so grateful and so wretched all at once. These tears won’t stop—I’ve no strength left to hold them back.”

Tokunosuke crouched beside her, his bamboo clappers clicking softly against his thigh. “Should I fetch water?”

“Oh...” She pressed a trembling hand to her brow. The autumn wind plucked at her shamisen strings. “But truly, there’s no need.”

“You want it，don’t you? That reluctance to go ask strangers for water was long ago—after all this journeying，this Tokunosuke has become quite bold. I’ll go get it for you，so wait here，alright?”

Onaka: “Alright. I’m sorry, but please go ahead.”

Tokunosuke: “Oh, it’s really no trouble at all.” Heading toward the sake brewery, he thought: I must have grown accustomed to traveling—being the spineless man who was raised in comfort makes approaching grand houses difficult. I’ll get it from this smaller house here for you.

“You. You.”

Tokunosuke: “Huh? What’s that?”

Onaka: “Let’s go down to the gravel bank and drink river water.”

Tokunosuke: “You don’t have to do that—I’ll go get it for you. Wait here.”
“Alright?”

(Exits)

Masakichi (twenty-eight or twenty-nine years old), wearing Hida-style clothing, had fled wandering from Edo and hidden in Kuguno—a remote part of Hida with poor transportation—before coming today to Takayama, over three ri away, on an errand.

Masakichi—having spotted a wandering woman who was the spitting image of Osan, who had taken her own life, and having once followed her only to lose track—now found her again upon arriving there.
He passed by Onaka’s side, but Onaka was looking down, her face unseen.
(He stopped and stared intently)

Onaka (looks at the river as her dizziness subsides)

Masakichi (seeing Onaka’s face, losing himself): “Oh! It’s Osan.”
“Osan, it’s me.”
(startled—he wavered)

Onaka: “Oh...”
(Unnerved, vainly seeking help, she retreated.)

“Ah—wait! Since I startled you so suddenly, you must’ve been terrified—please forgive me.”

Onaka: "Oh..."
"No."
"There's no need for that."

Masakichi: "Hah... You're from Edo, aren't you?"

Onaka: "Yes."
"You too—your way of speaking differs from people around here."

Masakichi: "Yes."
"I'm from Edo's Fuk—never mind, I served in Edo for a long time."

Onaka does not answer; her eyes, filled with fear and wariness, remain unwavering in their vigilance.

Masakichi (eager to keep talking): "I've got an impertinent question—you, did you come here because you've got some connection to this place?"
"But here we are in these mountains, practically cut off from Edo."

“No, nothing in particular.”

“It’s rude to say this, but even if you’ve fallen on hard times, you don’t need to stoop to street performing.”
“No—that came out all wrong.”
“Please don’t be angry—I’m sorry.”

“I have someone waiting for me over there.”

“I’ve been tailing you since I saw you west of the river earlier—can’t imagine you’re traveling alone. Must be quite the journey you’re on with this... companion of yours, deep reasons and all.”
“Don’t take this as mockery—foolish as it sounds, you’re the spitting image of a woman who was like a wife to me. Dead now.”
“The resemblance cuts so deep, talking like this—makes even a rough man like me maudlin. Can’t shake memories of those Edo days.”

Onaka (waiting anxiously for Tokunosuke) thought, “What’s keeping him?”
He still hadn’t come.
“Excuse me,” she said.

Masakichi (inadvertently blocking her path): “You must think I’m some strange stranger, but to me, you’re my dead Osan.”
“Don’t go turnin’ pale or tremblin’ like that.”
“I ain’t meanin’ to torment ya—truth is, I’d help ya if I could.”
“Just let me see your face awhile.”
“Shameful as it is, I can’t tell how much your face might comfort this heart o’ mine clouded with doubt.”
“You must think I’m some brazen fool accostin’ you broad daylight on a public road.”

Onaka (unable to endure any longer): “Oh... I—I’ll go over there.”

“Sorry fer botherin’ ya—I’ll be off soon.”
“Meant to say I’m really goin’ now”—but there I stood, rooted like a damn post. “Must think I’m some pest won’t quit, eh? Can’t blame ya.”
“Right then—off I go.”
“Quit glarin’ holes through me.”
“Part ways now, I’d rot ’tween these Hida peaks till kingdom come.”
“Where’ll you wander under heaven’s bowl?—my apologies.”
“Farewell.”
(He makes to leave)

Onaka: “Oh, wait.”

Masakichi: “Huh?”

Onaka: “Do I truly resemble this Osan-san so much?”

Masakichi: “Is it my imagination, or does even your voice—no, that too must be this doubt of mine.”

Onaka: “In this Takayama, since our earnings are too meager to get by, we intend to go to some other province.”
“If we do that, since we will likely never meet again, you won’t have to pursue us.”
“I shall no longer make any unpleasant faces.”

Masakichi (blinking rapidly)

Onaka: "We too, bound by the sorrow of a love that couldn't be, once wished for death. But our hearts changed—we realized only through living could we... Now we wander foreign lands in this shameful state."
"You lost your beloved to death, while we two together still face cruel storms—days when we cling weeping to each other."

Masakichi: "Don't know if I should say this, but when two share sorrows... Even through tears, there's moments worth holdin' onto. Don't let it weigh you down—mind your steps out there."
"Stay too long, and those doubts'll root deeper."
(Taking coins from his wallet) "Embarrassin' little amount, but enough for two pairs of straw sandals."
"Here—take 'em."

Onaka: “I am deeply grateful.”
(Adjusts her kokyu)

Masakichi: “If it’s a song, I won’t listen—if by chance I do and get even sadder, I can’t bear it.”

Onaka: “But since I’ve received your coins, though it’s not an interesting song...”

Masakichi: “If fate brings us together again, I’ll have you let me hear it when you’re both together.”

Onaka bowed her head and put away the coins.

Masakichi held deep reluctance, unable to bring himself to leave.

Tokunosuke (flustered, rushing over): “Oh, Onaka! We must flee!” (Looking back) “I’ve run into a bad sort. Th-That’s… that’s Buntarō of Kamekyūbashi, the bastard!”

Masakichi (startled, sensed danger)

Tokunosuke: “For some reason, he’s come to this land. It seems this was that bastard’s home ground.”

Onaka: “What? That villain—”
“Oh no!”

Tokunosuke discarded the water he’d received and hurried back.
“Let’s go! If he finds us, it’ll mean your ruin.”

Onaka (clinging to Tokunosuke’s arm): “Even if we flee, I have so little courage.”
“What… what should we do?”

Masakichi quickly found a hiding spot and concealed himself behind a small shrine.

Tokunosuke: “There’s nothing for it but to run as far as we can.”
“Come on—let’s get even one step further ahead.”

Buntarō (catching up): "There you are! Found you!"
"You think you can escape?!"
(Knocks Tokunosuke down and seizes Onaka's wrist) "How's that?!"
"I'm a cut above those backwater constables around here."

Onaka (writhing): "Finally... I've fallen into this bastard's clutches."
"I'm—I'm finished..."
(Collapses sobbing)

Tokunosuke: "Bunta-san, surely even you understand mercy."
"Onaka, don't lose heart yet."
"Bunta-san, please don't handle a defenseless woman so roughly."

“There’s lawful reason enough to rough you up,” Buntarō sneered. “From here—whether you bolt to Etchū, Mino, or try slipping through Kiso Pass—every highway’s a rat trap. Run all you like; you’re already in the sack.” His lips twisted into an eel-smile. “But I’ll show mercy—let you walk free.” The jitte gleamed as he rounded on Tokunosuke. “You half-wit! Should’ve kept playing village idiot instead of scurrying like a spooked hare. Woke a sleeping babe, you did—led me straight to my prize.” His grip tightened on Onaka’s wrist. “This firebug’s bound for Edo. Better to rot in that hell-pit than beg coppers with your rags, eh?”

Tokunosuke: “Are you taking Onaka away no matter what? Bunta—you were a man who helped my family greatly in our prosperous days! Yet now you’ve turned completely, relentlessly targeting Onaka who’s tied to me—a man who knows neither duty nor compassion!”

Buntarō: “I’m carrying out official duties. In official matters, Buntarō’s resolve is ironclad! Do you think this duty can be fulfilled by succumbing to petty obligations and human feelings?” (To Onaka) “The magistrate’s office here’s across the river. I’ll show mercy and spare you the ropes—now move!”

Onaka: “Even knowing I fell for this bastard’s scheme, I’ll accept my misfortune—these false charges won’t wash away. You…you… They’ll send me to Edo. Please stay safe.”

Tokunosuke: “Take only you? Never—I’m coming with you!”

“I don’t have any business with you,” said Buntarō.

“Even if we’re separated by blocks,” Tokunosuke declared, “I’ll follow you to Edo without wavering!”

“Follow if you damn well please,” Buntarō sneered. “Might even let you hear a song at each inn—consider it charity.” (To Onaka) “How long you plan to keep snivelin’?”

“Wait, Mr. Bunta!” Tokunosuke interjected. “This idea that Onaka set fires—it’s pure delusion!”

“Got complaints? Bring ’em to Edo,” Buntarō growled. “Say your piece in the magistrate’s gravel court if you dare. What’re you yappin’ about? Run off with some arsonist geisha and you’re neck-deep in guilt! I’m doin’ you a favor—playin’ nice ’cause you’re that bankrupt landlord’s wastrel brat who once fed me scraps! Keep yappin’, and I’ll haul you both to Edo as accomplices!”

“Ah, go ahead and do it! If you do, I’ll have achieved my heart’s desire.”

Onaka: “You...”
“Please stay calm and don’t defy this man.”
“This man made unwelcome advances I refused, then nursed his grudge until a fire broke out—the perfect chance to frame me for arson as revenge. Even knowing his scheme, no matter how I fight back, it’s my fate that those in power side with him.”
“When you’re weak and bullied, there’s nothing left but to let yourself be crushed underfoot.”

“Is that all there is to my slander?”
“Then we’re off. Get walking.”
“If you dawdle, I’ll get rough.”

“Onaka, it was my fault.”
“Because I was disowned over family troubles and became reckless, and because you fled here after being burned out—it was wrong for us to leave Edo without considering the consequences, just wanting to stay together.”
“The guilt lies with me.”
“Onaka merely followed along with me.”

Buntarō: “How annoying.”
“Move it.”
(shoves Onaka)

Tokunosuke shielded Onaka. “What’re you doing? What if she gets hurt?”

Buntarō sneered. “What’s it look like? I shoved her! If those slow legs of yours hold us up, I’ll drag you both through the streets—no mercy.”

Onaka spoke with resolve. “The weak always lose—that’s how the world works. You must let me go—think of me as dead already. Please.”

“No,” Tokunosuke insisted. “I won’t abandon hope.”

Buntarō: “What a bunch of unresolved bastards.”
(dragging Onaka away as if she were a burden)

Tokunosuke (tries to intervene)

Masakichi (Having wavered through multiple resolutions since before this moment, finally lunges out and punches Buntarō between the eyes)

Buntarō: “Gah!”
“Hurts!”
(collapses)

Masakichi (to the cowering Tokunosuke and Onaka): “Run.”
“Quit gawkin’ an’ move your asses!”
“Or this punch’s wasted.”
“Ikadabashi—now! I’ll show you the way after.”

Tokunosuke (drags Onaka away in panicked flight)

Masakichi (eyes Buntarō’s crumpled form, starts backing away as rear guard)

Buntarō: “You... bastard... did it...”
(staggers upright)

Masakichi (grabs Buntarō by the collar)

Buntarō: “Oh... Masa? Masakichi, huh?”

“Quit squirming,” Masakichi growled.
(he tried to strangle him)

Sakuzō, Takatarō, Hyakumatsu, and others rushed out to see what was happening.

Masakichi attempted to strangle Buntarō but, finding no opening, fled.

Sakuzō and others gathered around Buntarō.

“Someone get water! Water, water!” shouted a voice.

Sakuzō (standing apart): “I can’t stand this. Giving water to that bastard Buntarō’s a waste.”

Buntarō (staggering to his feet): “Bastard ran away—I won’t let you escape!”
(While Masakichi and the others departed, he staggered off in the opposite direction)

Everyone watched, stunned.

Only Sakuzō watched with cold derision.

Act II: Nakayama Shichiri (Return Journey)

The scenic beauty of Minami Hida—a section of Nakayama Shichiri.
A day or two beyond the previous day; the autumn leaves across the mountains now blazed in their peak hues.

A narrow road faced the clear stream of the Masuda River; along its banks lay strange rocks and bizarre crags.

Here and there stood pine trees—some entwined with crimson vines.

Buntarō of Kamekyū Bridge, dressed in light travel attire, hurriedly approached. He had requested assistance from Takayama’s authorities and accompanied them, but had become separated along the way and was now alone. A hunter passed by with game hanging at his waist.

Buntarō: “Hey, hold it. I’ve got questions for you.”

Hunter: “Travelers, eh? What’s this about?”

Buntarō: “Didn’t two men and a woman come this way? The woman has a kokyū—you, do you know what a kokyū is?”

“I don’t know nothin’ ’bout that.”

“You don’t know it? Then that’s fine. Didn’t two men and a woman pass by?”

“I didn’t see ’em.”

Buntarō: "I see."
So I got ahead of 'em? If that's how it stands—this'll be a cinch.

Hunter: "Who're those folks? They with you?"

Buntarō: "Shut your trap."
"I don't truck with fugitives."

Hunter: Huh? Fugitives, ya say?

Buntarō: That's right—fugitives!
"The man's a killer from Edo; the woman's a fiend who set fires there too."
"I'm the law here." (flashes his jitte) "Got it?"
(flashes his jitte) "How's this?"
"Got it?"

Hunter: Oh! So yer an officer.

Buntarō: Damn right.
"I'm a big-shot investigator from Edo."
"Listen—if ya meet any bastards like I said along the way, keep yer trap shut an' move on. Blabber carelessly an' you'll swallow teeth."
"And tell Takayama's boys 'bout me if ya see 'em."
"Forget this chat an' I'll haunt yer sorry ass."

Hunter: “Yes, yes. Understood.”
(Starts to leave)

Buntarō: “This is a single path.”

Hunter (turning around): “Yes, if you’re headin’ to Kanō in Mino, this here’s the road—goes through Shitahara, Kanayama, an’ Ōta.”

Buntarō: “Where d’ya enter t’get through t’Kiso?”
Hunter: “Ya can also git there from Sawa up ahead.”

“So up to there, this road’s a single path.”

“That’s right.”

“Alright. You can go now.”

"Well, time to set one more trap."
(Exits)

Hunter (sees Buntarō off and exits)

Masakichi had changed into his travel attire at his home in Kukuno and now wore a short sword at his waist, just as he had when departing Edo.
Tokunosuke and Onaka followed after Masakichi while supporting each other.

Masakichi burned with envy at their closeness; murderous impulses would arise only to subside before resurging again—each wave plunging him deeper into self-reproach.

"I've managed t'get this far safe enough—but still can't let m'guard down."
He lunged toward Tokunosuke before checking himself mid-motion.
"From Takayama t'here must be fourteen ri easy... Probably safe enough—but still can't get careless."
"I'll try t'hold out just a bit longer."

“Mr. Masakichi—I’m sorry—but she seems utterly exhausted. Could we perhaps rest a little before moving on?”

“Yeah, sure,” Masakichi replied. “Let’s take a smoke break ’fore we move on.” His hand twitched toward Tokunosuke’s neck before he wrestled it back down. Even if Buntarō came hunting us here, we’d see that bastard first—safe enough. He’d been too busy running to notice before, but damn—this was Nakayama Shichiri in all its glory. What a fucking sight.

Tokunosuke: Onaka, look. Isn’t this a wonderful view?

“Oh… As far as I can see, it’s filled with autumn leaves—how beautiful,” said Onaka.

Tokunosuke walked with her while looking around in all directions.

Masakichi stopped himself from trying to kill Tokunosuke. He smoked a cigarette while fearing Buntarō’s pursuit and remained vigilant.
At times, he directed his intense gaze toward Onaka.

Onaka caught Masakichi’s demeanor but refrained from mentioning it, whispering to Tokunosuke that she wanted to part ways.

Tokunosuke (whispers to Onaka, finally resolves himself and turns to Masakichi): “Mr. Masakichi—I must thank you for all the help you’ve given us through this ordeal.”

Onaka: “I’ve no words to express my gratitude.”

Masakichi: “Nah—that bastard Buntarō’s someone I’ve got my own bone t’pick with too. Takin’ him down wasn’t just for your sakes—it vented my own damn rage. Ain’t no call for thanks.”

Tokunosuke: “Now—about that matter...”

Masakichi: “Huh?”

Tokunosuke (nervously): “We will never forget the kindness you’ve shown us over time, but traveling as three will draw too much attention. Here, we must humbly request to part ways.”

Masakichi grew displeased and did not answer; anxiety and suspicion welled up within him.

Buntarō doubled back via a bypath, passed behind the three, hid in the shadow of a rock, and waited for the arrival of the Takayama authorities while aiming for an opportunity to arrest them.

“I know this seems selfish of me,” Onaka said, “but if we were to separate, I thought we wouldn’t attract as much attention.”

“Why can’t you just tell the truth?” Masakichi snapped. “All that talk about attractin’ attention—that’s just bullshit excuses to brush me off! Wantin’ to split ain’t about that kinda reason—there’s somethin’ else goin’ on, ain’t there? I know damn well.”

“No,” Tokunosuke replied, “there’s no particular reason at all. Regarding public attention—it’s for our mutual detriment.”

“The hell you resistin’ for? Tryin’ to play me for a fool?”
Masakichi had fled Edo and made his way to Kukuno in Takayama’s hinterlands, clinging to meager connections; though he’d become half a mountain man, his soul stayed true Edo through and through.
“Why can’t you lot ever spit out the damn truth?”

Onaka: “No, we speak true words. It would pain us deeply should hardship befall you because of us.”

Masakichi: “So you claim that ain’t no lie? No slick excuse? If trouble comes, we’ll bear it together—so why won’t you say we three should stay as one? I’m a man who did a capital crime back in Edo—had my reasons. Could’ve lived out my days quiet-like holed up in Kukuno. But no—went and near killed that bastard Buntarō in Takayama though nobody asked. You know why?”

Tokunosuke (perplexed, does not answer)

Masakichi: “I’m no damn idiot or madman—could’ve stayed hidden quiet-like. But rushin’ out to take down Buntarō? Not one bit of that was to save my own skin. I ain’t sayin’ this to make you owe me nothin’, but it’s for your sake, Onaka-san.”

Onaka: “Y-yes—I... I understand.”

Masakichi: Tokunosuke—you must’ve heard it from Onaka-san and know already.

Tokunosuke: “Hah! If they say this one’s the spitting image of someone called Osan-san...”

“There! See? You knew all along! This whole ‘let’s split up’ crap ain’t about no attention—it’s ’cause a’ that, ain’t it? You lyin’ bastards! I couldn’t just stand there watchin’ Onaka-san get dragged off by that Bunta scum.”
“Osan—the one who killed herself last year—got crushed under money’s fist, trampled by them muscle-headed thugs. That face a’ hers all hollowed out from cryin’... whether ’twas grief or madness, even her whole damn shape looked just the same to me.”
“When I went rushin’ out like a madman—wasn’t ’bout savin’ you, Onaka-san. Couldn’t play dumb watchin’ my Osan get tortured all over again.”

Tokunosuke: “I understand your feelings well.”
“However—”

Masakichi: “Shut your trap—what the hell d’you know ’bout how I feel?”
“Onaka-san’d get it.”
“You can’t stand me stickin’ to ya like a burr, can ya?”
“That’s why you’re yappin’ ’bout splittin’ up—well I ain’t swallowin’ that!”
“What’d I even save your hides for then?”
“I ditched a safe rat-hole where I coulda laid low my whole damn life—trudged through shit-stain pass after shit-stain pass—all just to keep trampin’ with you lot! And now you’re tellin’ me to scram? That’s some frostbit fuckin’ talk.”
“If I’d so much as grazed Onaka-san, you coulda yapped till dawn—but ’stead of layin’ a finger on her, I’ve been breakin’ my back showin’ nothin’ but kindness! And you wanna split? That’s colder than a whore’s heart.”

Tokunosuke (resignedly): “I must apologize.”
“To ask us to part ways shows you’ve forgotten all duty and kindness—let’s wash away the past.”

“No—if that’s how it is, then I’ll...”
“But haven’t we received a great debt from Mas-san?”
“I haven’t forgotten your kindness, but traveling as three...”
“Onaka-san... you hate me, don’t ya.”
“No—to speak of hatred would be too much.”

“Then why the hell—?”

“Your eyes—those eyes of yours—ever since we came here, they’ve been terrifying. So terrifying.”

Masakichi (eyes brimming with jealousy he struggled to suppress, caught and unable to respond)

Tokunosuke: “What’re you talkin’ about?”

“Don’t scold,” Masakichi cut in. “Even if we wash away what just happened and keep journeying together, once things turn awkward, it’s over—Tokusan, let’s part ways.”

Tokunosuke: “Huh? You’d part ways with us?”

Masakichi: “Yeah—we’ll part ways.” (He scanned the surroundings, confirming no one was present.) “Tokusan—it’s just you I’m cuttin’ loose.”
(Drew his sword)

Tokunosuke: “Huh?!”

Onaka: “Huh?! What’re you doin’?”
(Clings to Masakichi)

Masakichi (entangled by both): “Humans—goddamn ’em—where ya plant yerself decides how low ya sink. Didn’t have this thought myself till just now. All three of us here—born carryin’ karma. Me too got karma—Onaka-san too. You too got karma.”
(Attempts to stab Tokunosuke)

Buntarō (realized the trio's struggle, blew his whistle, plunged into the fray, and struck Masakichi's arm with his jitte)

Masakichi: "Gah! That hurts!"
(Dropped his wakizashi.)

Buntarō: "This is official duty—submit quietly!"
(Pinned him down and attempted to undo the rope with his teeth.)

Masakichi: “Bunta...? You’ve come crawling back, huh.”
(Grappled with Buntarō.)

Tokunosuke (tried to flee with Onaka—yet couldn’t bring himself to run, fretting over Masakichi).

Masakichi (grabbing Buntarō’s throat): “Onaka-san—Onaka-san—I’ll kill this bastard.”
“Wait for me—just wait right there!”

Buntarō (freed himself from Masakichi’s grip and switched to offense): “You bastard—think you’re clever?!”

Masakichi (grappling with Buntarō while moving into the shadow of a rock)

Tokunosuke (pulling Onaka's hand and attempting to flee)

Onaka (worried about Masakichi’s safety, unable to bring herself to leave)

Tokunosuke (while shielding Onaka and battling terror, gradually entering the shadow of the rock): “Mas-san... Mas-san...”

In the shadow of a rock, (half-turn) the scenery appeared changed.
Masakichi and Buntarō were fighting.
Both men had mussed hair and disheveled clothes.

Buntarō (trying to pin Masakichi down): "You bastard! How's this?!"

“Damn! Am I really gonna get pinned by this bastard?” Masakichi thought as he was forced down.

Buntarō pressed his jitte harder. “In scrapes like this, I’ve seen more than some greenhorn like you. Quit squirming and take it quiet!”

“Get tied up!” he barked. “Truss yourself proper!”

Buntarō took out the arrest rope and worked to undo it with his teeth. "Quit squirming. That don't suit some big-time murderer like you."

"Mas-san... Mas-san..." Tokunosuke's voice echoed.

Masakichi: "Ah—Tokusan's voice."
(As he was halfway through reversing their positions) "No no no—you can’t come here! Don’t you dare come here!"

Buntarō: "What the—?!"
(Twisted Masakichi down again)

Masakichi (to Tokunosuke and the others): "Don’t interfere with me! Take Onaka-san and get the hell outta here! Run! Run, damn it!"

Buntarō (impatiently fumbling with the tangled arrest rope): "Tryin’ to let them scoundrels slip away? Ain’t gonna happen."

Tokunosuke: “—Mas-san!” (emerged from the corner of the rock) “Mas-san!”
Huh?!

Onaka: “That’s Mas-san!”

Buntarō: “You scum—runnin’ won’t do you no good!”

Masakichi (desperately resisting Buntarō): “Why ain’t you runnin’?!”
“Idiots!”

Buntarō (pinning Masakichi down): “You’re makin’ one ugly end!”

Tokunosuke: “Seeing this—I ain’t the heartless sort who’d flee!”
(frantically tried to save Masakichi)

Buntarō: “Once I truss up this bastard—you’re next, Onaka.”
“Waste of breath—Takayama’s snitches got their nets spread.”

Onaka: “What?!”

Tokunosuke turned back with resolve to retrieve the wakizashi dagger that had been knocked from Masakichi.

“Those Takayama informants making a racket—” Masakichi strained against Buntarō’s grip, “—they veered off course ages ago! Racing toward Nakatsugawa in Kisō! Onaka-san—you saw it yourself! You know this!”

Buntarō snarled through gritted teeth: “Quit your bullshitting!”

“I saw it with these eyes! Call it lies if you want!”

“Mas-san—” Onaka pressed her hands together in supplication, “—let me be the one bound. Bunta-san—tie me instead! Let Mas-san go!”

Buntarō: “There we go—the arrest rope’s come undone. Don’t need no askin’—I’ll tie you up proper too.” (applied the rope to Masakichi)

Onaka: “Wait—hold on!”
“Bunta-san, wait!”
(interfering)

Buntarō: “Don't you dare interfere!”

[Inner monologue] Onaka-san—the way you’re getting so worked up—it’s exactly like how Osan was when she was alive.
“Enough, Bunta! Quit dawdlin' and tie me up already!”

Buntarō: “Scum, get lost! Your turn’s comin’ up next.”
(shoving them aside)

Masakichi is securely bound.

Buntarō: “Think you’re clever?”
(applies the rope to one of Masakichi's hands)

Tokunosuke (carrying a wakizashi, turns back and waits for an opportunity)

Onaka: “It should be me who’s tied up. Bunta-san, why won’t you bind me?”
(interfering)

“Yeah—you’re a damn nuisance, scum!” Buntarō snarled.
Shoved back by Onaka but regaining his footing, he strained against the rope until it snapped taut.

Tokunosuke leapt out and severed the tense cord.

Masakichi staggered from the sudden release of tension and collapsed.

Still gripping the rope’s end, Buntarō reeled and plunged into the river.

A bird suddenly takes flight from behind the rocks, then after a moment descends back to its original spot.

“What?!”

Tokunosuke: “That bastard Bunta fell into the Masuda River—swollen from last night’s rain.”
“Serves ’im right.”
“He ain’t survivin’ that.”
(He glared at the water’s surface)

Onaka (lifted him up): “Mas-san! Mas-san!”
“Mas-san.”
“Bunta’s gone now.”
“Oh—this blood…”

Masakichi (at the rock’s edge where he’d struck his head): “Agh... hurts.”
“I-it... goddamn hurts.”

Onaka: “You—Mas-san’s hurt!”

Tokunosuke: “Huh?”
“Shit—he’s drenched in blood!”
“This’s gone t’hell real quick.”

“Ah—hurts… ’S fine. Just leave it. You two—c’mon, get movin’! Get outta here now!”

Tokunosuke: "No—now that things have come to this, unless we go together, we can't head east or west."
Masakichi: "That ain't gonna fly."

Onaka: “It’s because of me that things turned out this way.”
“How can we possibly go on like this?”

Masakichi: “I’ve sunk to being a coward.”
“Just ’cause I wanted Onaka-san—who looks like Osan—to think well of me, I went chargin’ in without a thought for myself. None of that was real courage from the heart.”

Tokunosuke: “No—no matter how much you belittle yourself, Mas-san acted courageously and saved us.”

Wrong—completely wrong.
Just now, I tried to kill Tok-san and make Onaka-san mine.

Onaka (embracing fresh dread, now finds Masakichi terrifying)

Tokunosuke (attempted to bind the wound with a hand towel)

Masakichi: (Pushing it away with his hand) “I’m a dangerous man for you.”
“It’s shameful, but I can’t stop these feelings for Onaka-san from growin’ stronger.”
“Let’s try escapin’ together—who knows when I might get the urge to slit your throat along the way.”

Tokunosuke: “Even so—in this state—unless we escape together, hide somewhere, and have you tend to your wounds—I can’t fulfill my duty.”

Onaka: “You.”
(stealthily tugged Tokunosuke’s sleeve)

Masakichi: “My feelings keep whirlin' like a damn revolving lantern—can't tell if it's good or evil，just keeps on spinnin' round and round.”
“Hey，Tokunosuke—this ain't about you．It's about me．”
“If I turned into a demon and made Onaka-san mine，I'd be happy．”
“But behind that—ain't I just makin' another woman like Osan in this world，only to have her end up cryin' herself to death?”
“I'm about to lose my mind—so while I'm still sane，both of you，hurry up and get outta here．”

A bird suddenly took flight once more and flew away.

On the surface of the water, Buntarō floated up and sank down.

Onaka: “What?!”

Masakichi (startled, grabbed his short sword): “That scoundrel Bunta—still alive, damn him?”
(He brandished his sword at the two, urging them to flee)

Tokunosuke: “Then, Mas-san—I bid you farewell.”

Onaka: “Farewell.”
“I’ll not forget your kindness—but...”

Tokunosuke: “May the day we meet again come—I’ll keep my faith in the gods.”

"Nah—I ain’t lost my head."
"So long."
(Tokunosuke and Onaka depart, lingering reluctantly.)

Buntarō (surfaced and grabbed onto a rock)

Masakichi (assumed a stance in one swift motion)

Buntarō: "Gah!"
(Released his grip on the rock, began sinking, and clutched at a more distant rock.)

Masakichi (impatiently raised his sword to strike)

Buntarō (lost his grip and sank)

“Agh!” Masakichi shouted. “Don’t let go, Bunta!” He threw his sword aside. “Sink now and you’re dead.”
“Hold tight!”
He hurled the severed rope. “Grab this—pull yourself up!”

Buntarō clutched the rope. “You’re… saving me?”

“I killed that feed merchant in Fukagawa,” Masakichi said. “So bind me.”

Buntarō: What?!
(Rescued and exhausted.)

Masakichi: “Bunta—my mind ain’t waverin’ all shaky-like.—Once I’m executed, things’ll settle proper.”

Buntarō: “Just now—when I was dyin’ in that water, chokin’ for air—all sorts o’ things flashed through my head like damn lightning.”
“My feelings… they’ve completely changed.”
(He collapses limply)

Masakichi: “You’re done in.”
“You must’ve swallowed quite a bit of water.”
“Ah, I hear it—oh, I hear it.” (Goes to the edge of the rock and peers cautiously) “Can’t see either of ’em anymore—looks like they went into the woods.”
“That was right—couldn’t see ’em.”
“No matter how much I looked—that was just some stranger’s coincidental resemblance.”
(Returning) “Bunta, I’ll wait here till you get your strength back and let you tie me up— Oh, I hear it again.”
“The sound of the kokyū and singing—that was definitely Osan’s voice.”
“—Ha ha ha ha… What was that? Just the wind blowing through pine branches?”

(Quietly waited for Buntarō’s recovery.)

Dusk approaches, crows caw.
The mountain temple’s bell can faintly be heard.

Curtain

Written in August 1929 (Shōwa 4)

Revised in August 1935 (Shōwa 10)