Pathway to Japanese Literature

Preface: Airplanes from a Hundred Years Ago A hundred years ago, flying machines had already been invented in Japan. Unfortunately, they were never granted the opportunity to develop into the airplanes of later years and were destroyed by ignorance, ambition, and wicked hearts, leaving behind only a single essay and a pitiful tale before vanishing completely. However, who can guarantee that these pioneers’ bold intentions and blood-soaked research were not one small stepping stone in the aviation world’s astonishing development that now seeks to conquer the skies of today’s world?

In the fourth year of Ansei (1857), the essay "Brush Diversions" by esteemed scholar Kan Chazan includes the small story presented on the left.

I. Mechanical Ingenuity: A mounting artisan named Kōkichi of Okayama, Bizen Province captured a pigeon, measured its body's lightness and wings' length, compared them against his own weight to craft wings for himself, devised a mechanism to operate them before his chest, and attempted flight—though he could not ascend from ground level, he managed to flap forth from a rooftop. One night while ranging through the outskirts, he looked down upon a feast taking place in an open field and tried approaching it, thinking he might recognize someone there—but as he neared the ground, the wind weakened unexpectedly and sent him tumbling down. The men and women below shrieked in alarm and fled in panic. Left behind was an abundance of food and drink which Kōkichi proceeded to consume voraciously (...). Later when this incident came to light, authorities summoned him to the city magistrate's office. Though he argued that performing feats none dared attempt was mere amusement, they deemed it criminal nonetheless: confiscating both wings, banishing him from his residential district, and forcing relocation elsewhere. (The rest is omitted.)

Thirty years after this incident, by the early years of the Tenpō era, the mounting artisan Kōkichi had secluded himself on Mount Hakusan in Kaga, where he continued to accumulate research on flying machines, advancing his discoveries from flapping-wing flight to gliders.

Half-Faced Beauty

“Thanks to that rest, I’ve completely recovered. Roasted beans and bitter tea make for quite the feast when the occasion calls. Let’s try to get closer to the mountain while there’s still daylight.”

A traveler in his early thirties shouldered his divided luggage and, gazing at the sunlight, rose to his feet. He bore the guise of an Edo merchant—sun-browned face with sharp features, not an ounce of slackness in his posture or stride—yet when he smiled it transformed into an unexpectedly charming visage, that bitter edge somehow rendering him all the more likable in his masculine bearing. It was early autumn in the second year of Tenpō. The mountains’ autumn hues still lingered faintly, and from Tsurugi Town in Kaga Province, the path ascending sacred Mount Hakusan along the Tedori River’s main current appeared white through gaps in the greenery.

“Where might you be heading, sir?” The teahouse proprietress, while counting the tea money coins, asked the unusually generous customer.

“I intend to pay my respects at Hakusan Shrine on Gozendake Peak due to a matter of spiritual petition—”

The traveler sat back down on the bench once more. On the teahouse proprietress’s face was something gravely serious.

“You mustn’t climb sacred Mount Hakusan—I’m not telling you wrong.”

“And why might that be, ma’am?” Even across the traveler’s defiant face, a faint suspicion stirred.

“You being from Edo, sir, may not know this, but Mount Hakusan has had various strange occurrences spanning twenty years and has become a restricted mountain.” “Hmm.” “The Kanazawa mountain officials have blocked the mountain’s entry points—not only preventing any villager from approaching, but also making it impossible for woodcutters or charcoal makers to ascend the mountain.” “Hmm.” “The Tribute Envoys to sacred Mount Hakusan make their climb two or three times a year—and word has it those very envoys will be entering the mountain around today.”

The proprietress stepped outside the reed screen and shaded her eyes toward Kanazawa. “Just saying there’s something suspicious—I can’t turn back after coming this far. But what exactly’s out there, ma’am?”

The traveler pressed his inquiry. “On clear days, they say a terrifyingly large bird—like a bat spreading its wings—drifts about between the inner peaks of Mount Hakusan. Not that I’ve seen it myself, mind you, but folk claim it’s the vengeful spirit of Ōtsuki Denzō, executed by imperial decree long ago—” There was indeed some basis to the teahouse proprietress’s words. Moreover, there were several villagers who had witnessed the monstrous birds on Mount Hakusan’s peaks, and at that time, legends spread throughout the northern provinces that the vengeful spirits of Ōtsuki Denzō and Asao from the Kaga Disturbance had transformed into monstrous birds to torment the Kaga lord and cause a great fire in Kanazawa.

“That’s a frightening tale—but still, didn’t a young woman climb up there just now? Wearing indigo gaiters against snakes, attire rather flamboyant for mountain trekking—I caught a glimpse of her profile… stunningly beautiful. A woman like that must be rare even in Edo.” The traveler’s story leapt about in various directions. When he entered this teahouse, the beauty of her right profile—revealed as she passed by him on her way out—seemed to have seared itself into the young traveler’s memory.

“Heh, heh, heh—did it catch your eye? That woman’s right profile is famous throughout Kaga, I tell you. Though mind you, seeing her left side would freeze your blood! But she’s clever about it—never lets newcomers glimpse that half.” “?” “Next time you meet her, circle around to the left and take a good look—though mind you, there’s a reason that woman entered the mountain. She’s called Oto—the Oracle Princess of sacred Mount Hakusan. Human she may be, but since she spends half the year in the mountains, even the authorities turn a blind eye.”

In the teahouse proprietress’s words lingered some unsolvable mystery. “Now that’s interesting—Oracle Princess or whatever she may be, there’s no law saying a grown man can’t climb a mountain some woman ascends without a care. Even if Ōtsuki Denzō’s ghost appears, it won’t curse an outsider like me. I’ll climb anyway.” “Oh sir! If the mountain officials hear such reckless talk—! Speak of rumors and they’ll come—those must be the forewarned Tribute Envoys over there! If an outsider’s caught loitering and inquiries start, think of the trouble for this shop! Hide yourself away now, sir!”

The teahouse proprietress pulled traveler Seisaku into hiding behind some objects as though dragging him. Before long, eight Tribute Envoys from Kanazawa approached, having their lacquered chest—bound with sacred ropes—carried.

Tsurujirō’s party

Okumura Tonomo, a retainer of Kaga, had four young retainers carry a large ceremonial chest while accompanied by two substitute porters, then settled onto the teahouse bench with a heavy thud alongside a young samurai—Tsurujirō from Ōno. “Hey, crone—didn’t some flashy-dressed wench come through here? All done up for mountain climbing with a right profile pretty enough to freeze your blood?”

Tsurujirō asked the teahouse proprietress. A man around thirty, unsuited for samurai attire—fair-skinned, red-lipped, with a strangely alluring air about him. “If you mean that person, she hurried off toward Mount Hakusan about half an hour ago.” “Tch. Nimble little harlot.”

Tsurujirō spoke crudely, his manner feigning nonchalance. “It’s your poor rein handling—thanks to that, the unruly mare stays one step ahead wherever she goes.” Okumura Tonomo also looked vexed. “When we ascend the mountain, all sorts of complications arise—shall I rush ahead and detain that woman?” Tsurujirō took on a flattering expression. “No—wait. In town, I left matters to your expertise, but in the mountains, it is my duty.” “I’ll not tolerate such presumptuousness!”

“Weeell—” “My daughter specifically said so—‘Tsurujirō must not be allowed near that woman.’” “Heh, heh.” Tsurujirō seemed to have been struck on a sore spot, now stroking his own forehead to mask his embarrassment. “That’s a joke, but even if that woman meets Kōkichi first, what difference could it make? In the end, that father and daughter are just scarecrows to be tossed aside once their purpose is served—so long as you’re here, the entire Kaga household can rest easy.”

“Much obliged.” While exchanging such words, the party set off toward Mount Hakusan.

“What formidable Tribute Envoys these are.”

After seeing them off, traveler Seisaku emerged from his hiding place.

“Oh, sir! You’re still here?” “Can’t have you forgetting now—wasn’t it you who hid me, O-Kami-san? Ah well, judging by that talk, Mount Hakusan ain’t what you’d call peaceful by any stretch. Ōtsuki Denzō’s ghost don’t scare me—it’s shameless folk like them that chill my bones. Guess I’ll follow your advice and give up on climbing after all.” “That’s wise of you. I don’t know what prayers or vows you might have, but entering Mount Hakusan these days is like marching to your death.”

“Thanks—then, O-Kami-san.”

The young traveler exited the teahouse and appeared to head straight back toward Kanazawa, but in reality, he slipped through thickets, passed through groves, and quietly doubled back toward Mount Hakusan.

Mountain Pass Permit “Wait, wait, wait!” The mountain officials burst forth like scattered gravel, parting the darkness beneath the trees to block the path of traveler Seisaku as he approached along the mountain trail.

“Heh, heh, heh.”

Seisaku nearly sprawled flat on the earth, and the mountain officials pressed their advantage, “Where do you think you’re going, insolent wretch? Can’t you see the mountain entry prohibition notice?!” They clattered their six-foot staffs and shouted. “In my haste, I acted carelessly, sir.” Seisaku kneeled on the ground and removed his sun-shielding face covering. “You seem to be an outsider. Where is your homeland?” “I was born in Edo and go by Seisaku, sir.” “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I must humbly inform you of a vow matter concerning Hakusan Gongen. To speak plainly—my father, who passed three years ago—had made a pledge to Hakusan Gongen in his youth. He remained deeply troubled about leaving that vow unresolved, but in his final moments, he strictly charged me, his unworthy son, to undertake a vow-release pilgrimage to the Hakusan Gongen deity at Gozendake Peak within three years as his substitute. Sirs.” Seisaku explained with clear eloquence.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” “Oh, sirs…” “If this climb is truly so important, there should be proper formalities. Do you have a ritual robe and pilgrim’s staff?” “That is, well…” “Sneaking up the restricted mountain in that getup—you’re undoubtedly a suspicious character. We’ll give you a proper interrogation—come here!” Three mountain officials restrained Seisaku from both sides.

“Please, show mercy.”

“Denied!” It was in the midst of that commotion.

“My, what a commotion—Seisaku, you’re really something, putting on an act where no one’s around to watch. Oh ho! And that face of yours...”

With a smooth, beautiful voice that seemed to brighten the surroundings, a woman slipped sideways from the shadows as if pushed forward—tall and graceful as she stood before the mountain officials. She was the one the teahouse woman had spoken of: Oto, a woman whose blazingly beautiful half-face seemed carved from fire. “Oh, Oto!” The mountain officials exchanged awkwardly embarrassed glances; dealing with this woman had always vexed them. “Oto?—Don’t pretend innocence. Every one of you has taken your petty swipes at me before, yet here you stand blushing like maidens. Hmph, hmph.”

“This person here is my companion—you might even call him my retainer. His name’s Seisaku, thirty-two years old, born in Edo—though as a man, he’s rather half-baked. Do be kind to him, won’t you?” Oto said that and, upon her radiant half-face, bloomed a beautiful smile. “Is that true, Oto?” “There’s no truth or lie here—didn’t I go all the way to Kanazawa’s castle town to find help because this job’s too big? If you set up checkpoints here and block our crucial person, you’ll render the whole mission useless. Well? Don’t you agree?”

Oto had no reservations. Traveler Seisaku was gazing at the expression of her half-face as if entranced. Like figures in Egyptian murals, like the precise movements of a two-person hakama dance, in this posture that revealed only half her face, the woman’s mysterious beauty seemed to exude an unfathomable charm. “You do have proof, don’t you?” The mountain officials erred on the side of caution. “Would I make claims without proof? Here—I received the mountain pass permit from the honorable senior officials but carelessly forgot to hand it over to this person. There, see?”

Oto presented the mountain pass permit she took from her pocket before the officials. “Very well. If you insist that much, there can’t be any mistake.” “If there’s any mistake, please blame me—though I may never come down from this mountain again—”

“What?” “This concerns me—well then, everyone, come along, Seisaku.” Oto hastened up the mountain path as if to take Seisaku’s hand. From Tsurugi to Shiramine lay ten *ri*; from there, following the Tedori River for three and a half *ri* brought one to Hakusan Hot Springs. Eastward from the hot springs along Nagamine Ridge—flanked by the deep valleys of Yunotani and Yanagidani—another three and a half *ri* led to Midagahara Plateau, which soared at an elevation of 7,600 *shaku*. From Midagahara, ascending Goyōzaka brought one to Gozenpei; then, climbing another 1,100 *shaku* into the cloud-piercing heights of Gozendake Peak’s summit lay the main hall of Hakusan Shrine.

What was Seisaku’s identity? “Let’s rest here for a bit.”

When they reached a spot just over one ri from Gozenpei, Oto finally spoke—not a trace remaining of the brash tone she had used earlier when haranguing the mountain officials. By the roadside grass where one might pluck rock bellflowers, Hakusan wind dews, and eerily lovely black lilies; where casting one’s gaze could reveal the Japan Sea beyond Kehi Pine Grove on clear days—there sat Seisaku beside this enigmatic Half-Faced Beauty, pondering many things.

“Where exactly do you intend to go?”

Oto continued. “After paying respects at Venerable Mount Hakusan, is there a path descending toward Hida’s Takayama?”

Seisaku raised his face. A woman who evoked a strange mix of exhilaration and discomfiture—as though seated amidst shimmering heat haze. "You're acquainted with the perilous mountain too?" "Surely you don't mean Ōtsuki Denzō's vengeful spirit would manifest." "No—not some spectral beast, but twin blades of gleaming eyes. Though with this," she patted her sleeve where the permit lay hidden, "we've no cause for fear."

“————” Oto took out the mountain pass permit from her pocket and flaunted it. “Earlier, I proved quite helpful to you, didn’t I? —This mountain pass permit stamped by Kaga’s senior officials—something I’ve no use for, traipsing through these mountains year-round where every official knows my face—you want it, don’t you?” Her eyes—piercing as though they could see through the man’s very guts—issued a challenge. “————” Seisaku could find no response—he merely smiled and kept gazing at it.

“If you want it, I’ll give it to you. Climb up to Gozenpei and get a proper look at whatever it is you’re after.”

“What?!”

Seisaku was startled. “Lately, Kaga’s every action displeases me from one to ten—even I don’t know what might become of me—you needn’t be wary of me.”

Oto’s reminiscences, disregarding Seisaku’s astonishment, continued to leap freely as she pleased. “Ms. Oto, I’m grateful you’d give me that mountain pass permit, but as I am now, I have no way to repay you.” “Oh-ho-ho, such things—as if I’d meddle with Kaga’s schemes just for gratitude! Though… I do have one request myself.” “?” Seisaku held his breath. “It’s not outside—but about one ri up from here at Gozenpei, there’s a strange workshop where a sixty-year-old man lives all alone. The workshop is wedged between rocks and hidden among young pines—invisible from the village—but since there’s only one path, you can’t miss it. Could you deliver this letter to that old man?” “And swear here and now to the gods and buddhas that you will not disclose anything you’ve seen or heard in this mountain.”

Oto stiffened. All coquetry vanished from her face, replaced by a mysteriously stern expression reminiscent of revered Indian Buddhist paintings.

“I’ll undertake delivering that letter to the old man, but—” “?” “I must ask you to spare me from swearing an oath not to disclose what I’ve seen and heard in these mountains—it would be easy to deceive Ms. Oto with a half-hearted promise, but that would feel like betraying you after receiving your kindness, and I couldn’t live with myself.” Seisaku masked his feelings with a lonely smile. “Just as I thought—your true status.” “————”

The two of them fell into silence for a while. “Gozenpei is just over one peak from here—you likely won’t even need the letter. But if by chance *you* reach that old man before I do, tell him a woman like me—(No, no time for details—he mustn’t stay! Who knows what horrors await him—at the first opportunity, flee over the mountains to Hida or Shinano—). Ah—someone’s already climbing up—”

“————”

Oto had Seisaku grasp the mountain pass permit and continued while clinging to his hand. “Even if I talk tough, I’m still just a weak woman—when I realize even my life’s being targeted, I end up wanting to cling to someone reliable like you.” “Please don’t laugh—the performance of a lifetime is about to begin. Look—the villains are all gathering and coming this way—you must hide yourself and watch silently, no matter what happens.”

“My duty is to watch everything in silence—I won’t intervene no matter what happens.”

“Well then, Mr. Seisaku.”

“Ms. Oto.”

The two parted ways then and there—Seisaku to the shadow of a rock, Oto to the center of the path.

To the Ravine

“Hey, hey, hey! What do you think you’re doing?!” The young servants who had carried up the lacquered chest snapped to attention. Oto—who had suddenly blocked the path—wore her hand towel like a ceremonial streamer, her beautiful profile flickering through gaps in the mountain wind as she pressed firmly against the chest’s leading edge.

“I can’t let you take that thing up the mountain. Go back!” Oto’s voice rang out resolutely. “What do you think you’re doing, woman? This is the Tribute Envoys’ lacquered chest!” “That’s precisely why I’m stopping you! Mount Hakusan’s no tame peak—dressing up shady cargo with fancy titles and letting filth like you haul it up? The gods will smite you down, bastards!” “Wh-what’s that?! *You’re* the filthy one! Back off now, or I’ll show you the ravine’s bottom!” “Do your worst.”

“What the—”

From behind the clamoring young servants, Lord Okumura and Ōno Tsurujirō finally caught up. “Isn’t this Oto? Spouting such haughty proclamations—stop this! How disgraceful for a woman to act this way!” Lord Okumura clicked his tongue bitterly. “Well now, Lord Okumura—whether you’re some senior official in Kanazawa’s castle town matters little here. On this mountain, *I* am master. You’ll have your say later—first, let’s have that bastard hiding behind you step out. Come now, Tsurujirō—Tsurujirō-kun. What’s wrong? Scared of one woman? Even with both hands free, your true colors won’t change. Quit gawking like a fool, you fox bastard!”

Oto’s tongue lashed out with caustic wit.

“What a blabbermouth! Who’d fear the likes of you? Were Lord Okumura not here, I’d never suffer a shrew like you to live!” The one who leaped out from behind Lord Okumura was Tsurujirō—a man of fair features. “Hmph—dog... no, ape... Wait—even curs and monkeys show more kindness than you.” “Before others you play the stalwart man, but wasn’t it mere months past you groveled at my feet, sweet-talking your way into favor?” “Lies—all lies!”

“Now that your schemes are laid bare, you might at least blush—who was it that sweet-talked me with marriage promises, sneaked into my father’s workshop, and stole his precious mechanisms before fleeing?” “Lies! All lies!” “You applied your Takeda doll-maker’s crafty skills to that mechanism, peddled it to Kanazawa’s senior officials, even wrangled a lord’s commendation to get promoted to samurai rank—you thieving bastard!”

“Shut up! Huh?! Won’t you shut up, woman!” Tsurujirō shouted desperately, but Oto’s verbal onslaught showed no sign of relenting.

“On top of that, you’ve even ingratiated yourself with Lord Okumura, deceived some clueless princess like Satoyo, and promised to marry into their family—what about the marriage vows you made with me half a year ago? I’ve no lingering feelings for a fox bastard like you, but your actions are so heartless and vile that I’ll rip that mask right off your face!” “Lies! Lies!”

“Shall I show Lord Okumura that sworn oath you wrote with lies?” “————” “Lord Okumura—you may have your justifications too—but who’s responsible for deceiving my father? For confining him deep in Mount Hakusan these thirty years? For never letting him live a life worthy of a human?” “Shut up!”

When the spearhead turned toward him, Lord Okumura flared up. “I won’t stay silent! Of course the mighty Lord Kaga with his 1,020,000 *koku* would strain every muscle to complete his airplane—it’s vital for military use! But if that’s the case, couldn’t you have shown a shred of decency toward my father? Poor man—you confined him in these terrifying mountains for thirty years, and now that his flying machine is finally finished, you grow terrified of catching the shogunate spies’ attention! So you had Tsurujirō steal its mechanisms and orchestrate Kōkichi’s disposal—now whose orders was *that* under?!”

“Shut up! Shut up!” “Do you think I, his daughter, haven’t known that Father had been nearly killed time and time again all this while?” “Huh?! Won’t you shut up?!”

“Who was it that treated me like a madwoman—locking me away when I tried going to Kanazawa’s castle town to voice my complaints directly to the lord? Who assigned that fox bastard Tsurujirō as my guard and made me endure all sorts of vile things?” “Do you think I’d just slink away quietly after all this? Pity—I’ve already told the shogunate spies with my own mouth that Lord Kaga had us build flying devices with clear rebellion plans! Surprised?”

“What... what are you saying?!”

Even Lord Okumura was astonished. The recent rumors of a suspicious man wandering within the domain and even ascending Mount Hakusan now seemed more than mere hearsay. “Even without this, Kaga’s 1,020,000-koku domain were already under the shogunate’s scrutiny—rumors swirl in Edo that you’ve had Zeniya Gohei handle smuggled goods and even amassed military funds, as if war could break out any moment.” “Don’t you realize Kaga’s fate is to be blown to smithereens sooner or later? —Serves you right, bastards!”

Oto’s verbal onslaught was like a rainbow.

“You insolent wench—I won’t tolerate this!” Lord Okumura drew his sword and stepped resolutely before the woman. “Do you mean to cut me down?” “Oh, I’ll grant your wish.” The sword swung down in a flash; Oto twisted away but couldn’t fully evade it. Her right shoulder was deeply slashed, and she toppled backward.

“What do you think you’re doing?!”

The one who leaped out from the thicket’s shadow and shielded the wounded Oto was the traveler Seisaku. He had forgotten his duty, his status, and all surrounding circumstances—a man driven by pure passion, his unadulterated resolve laid bare. “Who the hell are you?!” As Lord Okumura re-adjusted his grip on the bloodied sword and bellowed, Tsurujirō hid behind him, while the seasoned retainers fanned out in three directions and closed in on Seisaku. “It matters not who you are—to lay hands on that woman is beyond cruel.” “What business is it of yours? —More importantly, who’s this suspicious character prowling around the mountain at this hour? That’s the real issue!”

When Lord Okumura raised his hand, six retainers suddenly sprang at him from three directions.

“Hah! If it’s come to this, I won’t hold back—come at me!” He flung one or two attackers aside like stray dogs, but tragically, Seisaku—bound by his undercover duties—was forbidden from carrying even a single blade as his opponents pressed in with weapons drawn. “Run! Please run! —It’s dangerous for you to stay here— —Leave this place to me—” The wounded Oto called out from behind, but now that things had come to this, Seisaku—who had promised not to intervene—could not back down any longer.

“Don’t worry—I’ll save you.”

Having flung another attacker aside, Seisaku seized a brief opening to scoop up the wounded Oto, then swiftly retreated toward the least guarded side. But what a terrifying trap of fate this was. Concealed by creeping pines and weeds, there lay the mouth of a thousand-ri chasm, gaping open before them. “Agh!”

There was no time to react. Seisaku’s body, clutching Oto, plummeted like a clattering stone into the unfathomable depths of the ravine. Both Lord Okumura and his retainers were so stunned by the sudden turn of events that they momentarily forgot to speak. “————” Eventually, the retainers—having crowded around to peer into the mouth of the ravine—gazed at the rocks large and small that, having mowed down distant thickets and weeds, plummeted bullet-like into the depths, then could only exchange glances and withdraw.

“If you fall here, you won’t survive—the bodies would probably never be found. To reach the ravine’s bottom, you’d have to take a long detour over the pass—it’d take two whole days.” The one familiar with the circumstances said such things.

Risking his life

“Ms. Oto! Ms. Oto!”

Seisaku finally managed to sit up and lifted Oto—who lay unconscious at his side with her beautiful half-face turned upward—into his arms. They should have plunged into the abyss—yet by what fortune, they had caught on a thicket merely thirty feet below, then been gently deposited onto a palm-sized patch of flat ground concealed beneath the cliff.

“Ms. Oto.” Having been wounded and tumbling down a thirty-foot cliff, it was no wonder she had lost consciousness—but the problem was that in such a place, there was no water to give her, nor any means to tend to her wounds.

“Ms. Oto.” Seisaku took out a remedy from his medicine case but found himself at a loss for how to administer it orally. Fortunately, Lord Okumura and his party appeared to have ascended toward Gozendake Peak without noticing anything. Once their figures had disappeared from view, Seisaku bound Oto’s body to his back and—relying on thickets and rocky outcrops—after countless hardships, finally managed to reach the original path. When he arrived there, he recalled that slightly downhill lay a hut built during Mount Hakusan’s pilgrimage heyday.

Seisaku’s hardships—no, rather, his futile efforts—began when he entered the hut: searching for a little water, getting the medicine down Oto’s throat. But even more than that—despite covering with a handkerchief the left profile she so detested revealing—how much wasted effort did he expend just to avoid catching a glimpse of it?

“Ah… uh… uh…” “Have you come to, Ms. Oto?”

Oto finally regained consciousness. Though the grievous wound made survival seem unlikely—and he thought it would be unbearably bitter were she to die like this—Seisaku’s fervent efforts appeared to have been at least somewhat rewarded. “Thank you… Mr. Seisaku. Even if I die—even if I die—I will never forget this kindness.”

Oto’s beautiful half-face followed Seisaku’s face like a baby seeking its mother’s. "Hang on, Ms. Oto—the wound isn’t deep." "No, I don’t expect to survive anyway—though I wish I could see Father just once." "That’s true, but—" When he saw the tear welling in Oto’s right eye, it felt like a blade slicing through him—yet there was no conceivable way to secretly transport this wounded woman all the way to Gozendake Peak. "No, I’ve given up on that." "But more importantly, Mr. Seisaku—you’re a government spy."

“Huh?!” “There’s no need to hide from me now that I’m dying. I’m telling you this knowing your duty.” “Fortunately, my mind has calmed—perhaps because death is near—and my strength has redoubled.”

Oto’s account was lengthy—but to summarize it— Oto’s father was Kōkichi, a scroll mounter from Okayama who discovered flying devices during the Kyōwa era; exiled from his homeland on charges of creating things humans should never make, he wandered aimlessly until entering Kaga Province thirty years ago.

At that time, Lord Narihiro, the Kaga Middle Counselor—a man of grand ambition—admired Kōkichi’s talent and had him craft flight devices; yet when the next lord, Nariyasu, assumed power, elderly retainers grew clamorous out of fear of shogunate scrutiny. They confined Kōkichi in a research facility deep within Mount Hakusan, stationed officials to surveil him, and barred all public access to the mountain. When Kōkichi was still living in the village, he took a wife and had a daughter; the wife died soon after, and the daughter Oto alone grew up—miraculously beautiful and wise—to this day at twenty-three. However, five or six years ago—while assisting her father in crafting flight devices—a bent fresh green bamboo snapped back and struck her cheek, utterly crushing the left half of her face; this was her own mistake, leaving no one to blame.

About three years ago, Tsurujirō—a doll craftsman from Takeda—used his petty cunning and masculine appeal to curry favor with the domain’s senior officials; having secured their approval, he entered the mountains as Kōkichi’s assistant. Having relinquished all hope of marriage due to her half-faced disfigurement, it stood to reason that Oto—deceived into a betrothal—would have the flight device secrets easily pilfered. Yet Tsurujirō returned to Kanazawa bearing this loot as his trophy, was elevated to samurai status, then seduced Lord Okumura’s daughter Satoyo into becoming his fiancée. Growing ever more presumptuous, he petitioned to test his flight devices and piloting skills against Kōkichi’s in direct competition.

“Kōkichi is under surveillance by government spies—he might even be colluding with them”—it was Tsurujirō who first voiced this suspicion. They promptly stored the glider assembly materials in a large Chinese-style chest—Lord Okumura himself accompanied them—with the ulterior motive of comparing Kōkichi and Tsurujirō’s flight skills deep within Mount Hakusan, intending to eliminate Kōkichi if necessary to safeguard the domain’s secrets. “This is how things have come to pass. I’m prepared to be cut down, but if left unchecked, Father will be in danger—the letter in my breast pocket from earlier—please deliver that to Father. I beg you.”

Having finished her lengthy account, Oto slumped and covered her beautiful half-face. “Understood. I’ll deliver it without fail—rest assured.” “And please escape this mountain at once—should anything befall you…” “That too I know—but steady yourself. Once my duty’s fulfilled, I’ll take you to Edo—since entering Kaga domain, Ms. Oto, all has been bitterness—yet since meeting you, even I feel my life holds purpose.”

“Thank you, Mr. Seisaku—even knowing that I… that I’m the woman who once made a marriage promise with that villain Tsurujirō—” “What’s that? Such a trifle—if one lives in the mountains for twenty-odd years, even foxes and monkeys grow dear. That’s human nature—though to these eyes coming straight from Edo’s heartland, you’ve always shone incomparably beautiful and dear—and that wasn’t from any mountain living.” “Even with this face…” “Your face—I’ve only ever seen the right half, but that right half’s beauty seems not of this world.”

“The horror and ugliness of my left half—you—”

“I don’t know—when I was nursing you, when you were unconscious—I didn’t look at the left half.” “Then, even if I die, please don’t look.” “I won’t look. I’ll never look again.” “I’m happy… Mr. Seisaku—even in death, I’ll have no regrets.” “No—you mustn’t die.” The two were tightly clasping each other’s hands. “Mr. Seitaku—Wait, no—that’s not your real name. Please tell me your true one.” “———”

“Please—I don’t have much life left. Even staying like this takes all my strength—I could die any moment—If I go to that so-called next world without knowing the real name of the lord I pledged my next life to—it’ll be too lonely.” “Well, Oto—” “Please tell me—whisper it.”

“————” “Ah—already—my eyes are starting to fade.” “————” “My ears too…” Oto wept, resting her wounded torso upon Seisaku’s lap—

“Alright—I’ll tell you. Listen well.”

“I’m happy.”

“Ready?” Into the now-failing hearing for the last time, Seisaku desperately imparted his real name.

“—Direct retainer of the shogunate—Ichinomiya—Lord Hayato—” “Shh!” “Ichinomiya… Lord Hayato…” “Oto.” “Ah…” Their tears unraveled everything. The sincerity passing through fervently clasped hands—a single day’s love—was but a fleeting affection, yet it burned as searing truth and fate staked with their lives.

Two Feuding Flying Devices

Burying Oto’s remains without looking at the left half of her face was no easy task for Seisaku—Ichinomiya Hayato.

But around the time that task was completed, at the Gozendaira workshop, a discussion between Kōkichi, Okumura Tonomo, and Tsurujirō was underway.

“In that case—since I command this Kōkichi—compete against Tsurujirō in a test of skill.”

Kōkichi's face swelled with indescribable displeasure. Thirty years had passed since being driven out of Okayama, and though he was now a sixty-year-old man, the intensity of his research and pride far exceeded anything Okumura Tonomo or Tsurujirō could have imagined.

“Precisely—such is my lord’s will. You’ve secluded yourself in these mountains over twenty years—nearing thirty—yet still haven’t completed the flying device. That’s inexcusable. Tsurujirō, though barely thirty himself, claims he’s already perfected his device and mastered flight techniques.” “That’s because that fox beguiled my daughter and stole every last scrap of my ingenuity!”

Kōkichi could no longer endure it. “Don’t spout nonsense! Tsurujirō may be an honored craftsman of Takeda puppets—but thinking you can create flying devices just by stealing my ingenuity shows your monumental ignorance!” “Proof over words—let’s settle this with a test of skill.” Tsurujirō interjected from beside them, his face pallid. “Let’s do it seven days from now in this valley here. Agreed?” Lord Okumura ordered, permitting no refusal. Then, the assembly of the two flying devices began. In adjacent workshops, they remained shut in. In contrast to Kōkichi, who worked steadily alone while fretting over his daughter Oto’s safety, Tsurujirō had four young retainers as assistants, creating a boisterous atmosphere filled with singing and clamor as he labored.

One night, a blood-drenched Oto appeared in Kōkichi’s dream. “Father! Father!”—jolted awake by the voice, he noticed something had been thrown through a gap in the window to land beside his pillow.

“?” Sitting up and holding it to the moonlight, he saw a mottled, bloodstained letter. When he pried it open, inside lay writing unmistakably in Oto’s hand—detailing, in painstaking strokes, the Kaga senior officials’ malice, the peril to her own life, and even the targeting of her father’s life. When he finished reading, there was another letter rolled inside—written in bold masculine script with an inkbrush on folded paper from his breast pocket—and Kōkichi’s complexion visibly changed. Tears streamed steadily down the old man’s cheeks—

From the following morning, Kōkichi’s demeanor transformed as if he were a different person—steel-cold resolve infused his emaciated frame, and he devoted himself solely to hastening the machine’s completion in silence. At last, on the seventh appointed day, what lay in majestic form within the workshop—filling its entirety—was a flying device resembling a giant bat. The vast accumulation of experience spanning thirty years—destroying and rebuilding countless times, rebuilding and destroying dozens more—had here, for the first time, become a machine entrusted with unshakable confidence.

That day, Tsurujirō’s flying device—assembled by a five-man team—was also completed.

As if timed perfectly, it was truly an ideal day on Mount Hakusan. Before Lord Okumura, who had ascended from the foothills on that appointed day, the two men presented their creations brimming with confidence.

“Are we prepared?” Okumura Tonomo had seated himself on a rocky outcrop. Before him stood Kōkichi and Tsurujirō, fully prepared. They exchanged hostile glances and donned their respective flying devices.

“Let’s go, Tsurujirō.” “Bring it.” The two men stood on Gozendake Peak’s slope and waited for a favorable wind. Before long, Tsurujirō launched from the slope over the deep valley—as his flapping-wing flying device swayed unsteadily, Kōkichi’s craft followed suit, borne aloft by the wind. While Tsurujirō’s contraption kept laboring desperately, its limbs thrashing nonstop, Kōkichi’s glider—harnessing wind pressure against its wings—moved neither appendages nor wings. With supreme calmness, it soared over the thousand-fathom valley like a colossal kite, drifting gently on the air currents.

From between the trees on the opposite peak, there was a man intently watching this spectacle. Needless to say, it was the traveler Seisaku—Ichinomiya Hayato. At this moment, Japan’s first two airplanes flew side by side over the inner valley of Mount Hakusan, their wings aligned like two monstrous birds. “Ah!” Ichinomiya Hayato let out an involuntary cry. As soon as Kōkichi’s glider abruptly shifted direction, wasn’t it now charging straight toward Tsurujirō’s cumbersome flapping-wing device?

Tsurujirō could only panic in shock, utterly helpless to act. The exquisite refinement of Kōkichi’s thirty years of painstakingly honed techniques and the secret method of sharp-angle maneuvering had been perfected to their utmost. In less than an instant, the two enemy flying devices clashed midair with a metallic shriek and, still entangled, plummeted—screeching—into the thousand-fathom-deep valley. The traveler Seisaku—the shogunate spy Ichinomiya Hayato—who had witnessed it all offered a silent prayer toward the distant valley floor, then simply brushed the dust from his clothes and stood up.

In the depths of Mount Hakusan, autumn faded quietly, quietly away, as if nothing had ever happened.