Pathway to Japanese Literature

With Hakamano Maro at their center, ten rough men stood silently surveying the procession making its way along the mountain pass road. On a tree stump slightly removed from these rough men of the detached mountain cave sat a young woman, her vivid legs crossed as she likewise kept slow watch over the procession advancing through the mountain foothills.

“Nobushi，you take the lead.” The young man nicknamed Nobushino Masaru had already brought out his horse. Though the rest formed our full force，Hakamano Maro declared， “I need not go.” Then the woman perched on the tree stump said， “Then I shall go too，” and rose. “You cannot go，Sute.” When Sutehime demanded why with blazing eyes，Hakamano gave no reply；the men he’d prepared vanished into the dense forest between one breath and the next. Hakamano kept his spyglass pressed to his eye，never shifting focus. “Why won’t you let me join？You’re keeping Nobushi close out of jealousy，aren’t you？” Sute’s voice cut through the windless forest stillness where no leaf dared tremble. That raw，unnerving sound—a woman’s voice raised bold in these mountains—Hakamano answered only by seizing her wrist，stepping close，and digging his fingers into her shoulder. “You cling too fiercely—skipping raids just to dog my steps.” “What choice have I？You ripen more womanly each day while I chase what youth remains mine．All others here are young men—Nobushi most of all．He burns to sit at your side，yet you make show of taking opposite seats even at fire circles．” “Your careful courtesies stretch my days endless．” As Hakamano pulled her toward the cave，Sutehime offered no resistance． For had he not yielded thus，no method existed to soften her spilling youth． The long hours of touch spent themselves． When at last Sute emerged onto the sunlit square before caves，her body hung loose-limbed and pliant，kneaded soft as dough．

“Now’s the time for your bath.”

“You won’t even let me bathe when everyone’s around.”

“Because they all want to see it. I don’t want to show them...” “How am I supposed to hide my body from all those men’s eyes? If I walk, my legs show.” “If it’s hot, my chest shows.”

Hakamano did not answer this; instead he peered through his spyglass without taking his eyes off the travelers' procession. Strangely enough, black human-like figures had suddenly appeared in the mountain pass ahead—a group no larger than sesame seeds was moving, seemingly pursuing them. These were pursuers from Kainoumasuke—fellow mountain bandits from the opposite peak. Even if things settled peacefully, the spoils would be split between two mountains; if things turned sour, they'd end up in an all-out brawl—this outcome was inevitable. Hakamano muttered that he had failed, but

“Sute, look at that.” “Kainoumasuke, huh?” “Wasn’t Kai supposed to be a samurai?” “We were all samurai once. Kai’s after you now.” Hakamano suddenly began putting on his attire, and Sute assisted him. When Hakamano Maro, fifty-two years old, donned his mountain garb, his eyes and legs alike began revealing a different ruggedness. Yet Sute’s concern came from genuine care. “Is it truly wise to go out with your body that’s touched a woman?”

“Hmm. But with what I’ve gotten from you, I doubt I’ll be second-guessing myself much.”

There was fatigue in his eyes. There was also something overflowing that veiled it—well, pay attention—Hakamano thought there was no deceit lurking in those words. The mountain stronghold stood completely empty now—Hakamano could return ahead of the others, and the relief of leaving Sute alone there felt more refreshing than any relief he'd ever known.

Before descending to the valley, Sute took out Hakamano’s undergarments but suddenly added Nobushi’s to the bundle. She sat on a sunlit rock in the valley, spread out Nobushi’s undergarments, and pressed their odorous fabric to her cheek to sniff and touch. From her breasts down to her lower abdomen came that familiar throbbing; clutching them close desperately, she sniffed the undergarments again. Then stripping off her clothes with vigor, she plunged into the river’s edge. After swimming, she rinsed each set of undergarments and hung them on a young tree branch to dry—yet the harsh sunlight had dried them before her washed hair could parch. When she took them down and returned to the stronghold, she stuffed Nobushi’s undergarments among his belongings and stored Hakamano’s in the partitioned depths of the stronghold.

When Sutehime stood once more before the stronghold and cupped her hands to look out, she saw Hakamano Maro and Kainoumasuke on a distant mountain flat—the noblewoman from earlier positioned between them—appearing to engage in some manner of verbal exchange. The noblewoman still wore her conical hat and traveling robes when suddenly Kainoumasuke approached and removed her gauze veil—surprisingly not in his usual rough manner, but gently. The face of the noblewoman exposed to the sunlight was a white unlike anything ever seen. Sutehime’s face flushed; her lips trembled. Hakamano and Kai were quarreling over the woman. When Sutehime learned there was now a horse prepared at the stronghold, she raced single-mindedly through the dense forest’s hidden path.

When they saw Sute on horseback, Hakamano’s group of ten men—preempted by Kainoumasuke’s ten—looked up at her as she arrived with vigor. Sute first observed that Hakamano’s face showed no traces of rage, then detected in Kainoumasuke’s brow an agitation so intense she could almost see the sweat on his palms gripping the reins. The noblewoman from the capital could no longer conceal her double surprise at Sute’s appearance. Sute went to Hakamano.

“Why aren’t we withdrawing?”

“It’s become a somewhat complicated matter. You stay back there.” “No, aren’t you haggling over seizing this lady? That seems to be the case, Sir Kai.” “Instead of this woman,” [Kainoumasuke] said, “I propose offering all spoils to you, Hakamano Maro—yet you insist we divide them between our mountains and return her to Miyako.”

Hakamano said. “If I were to return this woman to the capital alone, you would harbor doubts. But if we escort her together to the outskirts, you should find it acceptable.” “So you’d kill me in some thicket along the way with those muscles of yours? I won’t be coddled like some child.” “Kai, do I look like that sort of liar to you?” “Killing’s work for the moment it demands. Even if you swear you won’t allow it—when the time comes, you kill and get killed.”

“Then what do we do here?” “Let me handle this, Hakamano. Trust in me—the one who hasn’t laid a finger on Lady Sute until now.” “I’m here for Sute. What foolish talk is this? I’ll return the woman to the capital.” “And what if the woman files a complaint?” “You wouldn’t be the sort to callously discard those who’ve escorted you to the capital’s outskirts, would you, Your Highness? Can I trust you to be discreet?” “I would never dream of doing such a thing.” Even her gentle koto-like voice alone made everyone’s heads tighten. At that moment, Sutehime spoke.

“Then if I deliver this lady to the capital outskirts, there would be no grievances from either side, Sir Kai. So could you divide the spoils between your mountains and withdraw for today?” Kainoumasuke paused briefly before nodding with uncharacteristic compliance. Hakamano recognized that Kainoumasuke’s abrupt withdrawal stemmed from Sutehime’s intervention—a realization that twisted his face in displeasure, though he knew this settlement left no better alternative. Even through Sute’s feigned interest in Kai’s affairs—her demeanor laced with allure—Hakamano felt the inexorable pressure of knowing he must someday kill this man. “I’m glad you saw reason,” Sutehime told Kai, to which he replied through gritted teeth, “When Lady Sute mediates, even I must yield.”

“Then, Your Highness, I shall escort you to the capital outskirts.” The noblewoman—her eyelids elegantly tapered—had regained her composure. “For this kindness,” she said, “I can find no words adequate to express my gratitude.” The radiance of her delicate hands upon Kainoumasuke’s chest still burned as an afterimage behind his eyes. For years after returning this woman, he would feel the sting of being unable to know such femininity within these mountains. Yet were he to force possession of her now, not only would their band fracture—Hakamano’s blade would surely turn against him. For those dwelling in mountain strongholds, claiming one woman meant making enemies of all comrades; this forbidden flesh dangled by the thinnest thread between living and dying.

Suddenly, the Nobushi from Hakamano’s subgroup stood up. “For Lady Sute to go alone would be worrisome along the way.” “Leaving the noblewoman as she is would leave her vulnerable to the commoners’ mischief.”

He begged Hakamano to send him along as an escort.

Hakamano shook his head without hesitation. He saw through this presumptuous attempt to cleverly leverage the situation and smoothly gain his approval. “Even Sute alone is sufficient. But let us have two men from each subgroup accompany her—though not the Nobushi.”

Nobushino withdrew bitterly while Sutehime showed no outward movement of her brows or eyes. Hakamano would never allow this—but just imagining the possibility that he might consent made Sutehime feel a surge through her thighs. In the end，two men each from both subgroups accompanied them，Sutehime escorted the noblewoman，and Nobushino Masaru remained behind. The sun still hung high，letting them avoid the heat on horseback. Sutehime—who hadn’t spoken to another recognized woman in years—found herself drawn to the figured patterns of the noblewoman’s courtly robes and translucent fabrics. “What’s fashionable for attire in the capital now?” she asked．“Do highborn women still ride in palanquins? Are there comic plays? Do all men wear tachi swords and coronets?” “I haven’t walked Kyoto’s streets since thirteen，” she added with a laugh．“Every garment I own was taken from others—always too short or too long．” The noblewoman，astride her horse，untied her gauze headdress and brocade sash to give them to Sutehime.

“I am the daughter of Fujiwara no Yoshimichi of Shijōin—should you ever visit, even years hence, I shall surely shelter you. Simply refer to me as the daughter of Yoshimichi, and…” “No, Your Ladyship—such matters as seeking refuge with you would never come to pass. For mountain bandits—especially a woman’s lot—tomorrow may belong to another.” “Are you in that elderly gentleman’s companionship?” “I was raised by Hakamano from the age of thirteen, and I have now become his wife.” “Hakamano is both a father and a husband to me.”

“And your name is…”

“Sute—everyone calls me Sutehime.” Sute gradually came to realize over time that she was using womanly speech on equal terms with the noblewoman from the capital—that her feminine attire was seeping into her very heart. Something that seemed to crumble into elegance was gradually shaping Sute into something softer. The noblewoman praised the masculine features in Sute’s facial structure as beautiful; Sute complimented her in return, saying all women ought to have such a slender neck.

At Senjō no Yabu-mae, seeing the capital—still newly rebuilt—tinged with evening hues, the two were about to part when the noblewoman took Sutehime’s hand and expressed her gratitude reverently. “You who protected both my life and body did so because you are a woman. Should circumstances ever drive you to flee to the capital, you must come to rely on me,” she said in the same manner as before, fluttering her eyelids.

After clearly perceiving this strange friendship, Sutehime clutched her chest as though devouring emotions of womanhood she hadn't tasted in years. She rode back along the path she'd come, face still veiled with gauze. She couldn't suppress her delight in this insect veil.

On this day, Hakamano and his underlings had all left at once, and not a single living creature remained wandering in the mountain stronghold. Sutehime washed her hair and dried it on a rock while beginning to dwell vaguely on being the only woman among the mountain bandits. Ever since she had saved that noblewoman from the capital some time ago, she wanted to know what the capital’s streets were like and longed to walk along the main roads under cover of night. The smoke-like wisps visible from this rocky height—today too, as if yearning to meet—swayed joyfully. She thought of Nobushino Masaru. But no matter how she tried, she couldn’t evade Hakamano’s gaze—if she imagined his eyes glinting in rock crevices or forest thickets, there that piercing stare would invariably appear. Had Hakamano not taken her in, who knew what kind of woman Sute would have become? Her wholehearted devotion lay here—the inevitability of service—yet something genuine still mingled within.

At that moment, she heard her own name being called in an extremely cautious whisper—a sound she received half in disbelief. At this critical juncture, Sutehime discerned Kainoumasuke’s formidable frame at the mountain stronghold’s entrance. This intrusion—made knowing Hakamano’s absence—could only have been undertaken with ironclad resolve; breaching an enemy fortress demanded nothing less.

“Lady Sute, Kainoumasuke has come.” In that instant, Kainoumasuke spoke in a childishly careless voice.

“What business brings you here?” “I’ve come to claim you.” “Don’t spout such nonsense.” “Since I’ve come this far, you should understand the depth of my resolve. Close your eyes and accept the life a man’s staking here—don’t cast it aside so callously.” “I refuse.” “Don’t say that—I beg you. I’ve endured ten years.” “…………”

“Just once is enough—once.”

“I refuse.” “I beg you on my hands and knees.” “No matter how you try to persuade me, I won’t have it.” “Will you refuse me no matter what?”

“I beg you, leave.” “I won’t leave.” “What do you intend to achieve by staying?” “I will have my way with you.” “Even I am a woman—I won’t let you have your way so easily.” Sutehime scratched her itchy hair and showed it. Those upper arms swelled so temptingly one could bite them, their pallor spilling forth. Sutehime’s complexion showed neither surprise nor fear, and under Kainoumasuke’s gaze, it remained raw and alluring. Kainoumasuke drew close and suddenly took Sutehime’s hand, pulling her near. “Lady Sute, you’ve prepared yourself, haven’t you?” Kainoumasuke said uncharacteristically gently. No—she hadn’t made up her mind yet; she was gauging how Sir Kai would make his move. Kai tried to take hold of Sutehime’s robe and lift it up, but she sharply repelled his hand in one swift motion. When Kai repeated the action again, Sutehime struck the back of his hand. Kai obediently withdrew his hand, then tried to grab her shoulder—but that too was deflected by Sutehime. “Lady Sute, please understand—don’t brand me with the name of wolf,” Kai said with eyes that seemed to pray, but Sutehime retorted, “Then don’t disgrace me either—just take what you came for and leave, Sir Kai. This concerns your very life.”

“Will you not yield no matter what?” “It’s nearly time for Hakamano to return.”

With her long body flowing from her shoulders, Sutehime rose gracefully.

Kainoumasuke could no longer control himself—he had reached the point of abandoning all thought of the future. He pressed down on Sutehime’s shoulders from above and said, “Sit down.” Sutehime obediently plopped down. The collapsing body remained seated after all. Sutehime could not even escape from Kainoumasuke—there was nothing left but to become his. Even if she fled, she couldn’t escape completely; even if she fought, she couldn’t hold out. The only thing was to cleverly deceive Kainoumasuke and send him back as he was—that alone would let everything end safely. However, Sutehime loathed yielding her body. The act of surrendering her body to another man—something she’d never even strangely considered—was something she loathed and loathed until it became unbearable. She tried to dismiss it—pretending not to notice would suffice—but something she loathed remained loathsome. Of course, she could not face Hakamano or Nobushino, and when she dwelled on how this inability to face them had become a face that could not be faced, a solemn resolve arose within her. However, Kainoumasuke pressed down on both her shoulders and lunged.

“Lady Sute, close your eyes and forgive me.”

“I refuse.” Kainoumasuke completely enveloped Sute’s form within his large-framed garments with calm finality, and she fell unnervingly still. Kai no longer spoke a word. Two humans steeped in ominous silence had been left there. The pair endlessly crushed time within their soundless state yet remained trapped. A low voice uttered, “Sir Kai, desist.” After countless repetitions, it finally erupted into a scream—a defiant voice bursting from Sute’s throat. Kai remained silent. At that moment, when Sutehime’s complexion turned purple and her lips split apart, Kai pressed a prolonged kiss there—but in that instant, she had almost unconsciously clamped down on something. With this jolt, Kai suddenly released a “Gah…!”—a sound wrung from his entire body—and collapsed face-first into the grass, the noise spilling out repeatedly. At that instant, with fluid swiftness, Sute rose and brought her hand to her mouth, spitting a glut of viscous blood into the grass. Wiping her slimy lips, she hurried down to the valley and repeatedly scooped water into her mouth with splashing rinses. Bluish-white spots like blemishes first speckled Sutehime’s face before merging to shroud it completely, transforming her into a woman with a pallor like buttocks—less beautiful than eerie, her skin’s placid swell showing not a flicker of remorse for her deed, her face glowing with an almost radiant flatness.

By the time she climbed up from the valley, Kainoumasuke had thrashed about and, due to massive bleeding, could no longer breathe. Sutehime stood watching it for a short while, then covered her face with a tattered rag, draped tree leaves over her body, and naturally pressed her hands together in prayer. As she began to understand her own actions, Sutehime once again visualized the scene from which there was no escape. And she sat down on the grass there and, remaining seated, plucked blades of grass and wiped away sweat. The sweat now came to drench her entire body. If things hadn’t turned out this way, I would have become Kainoumasuke’s and ceased to be Hakamano Maro’s—there had been nothing else I could do. She wiped away the copious sweat again. Sutehime suddenly felt as though Kainoumasuke’s corpse had just twitched; she took a tattered cloth and looked at his face once more, but it lay softer than she had expected, bearing no trace of suffering. Sutehime gently closed his eyelids, still not moving from that spot as she sat down on the grass, wiped away her cold sweat again, and stared blankly at Kainoumasuke’s corpse.

About half an hour later, Hakamano’s group returned carrying their hunting spoils. When Hakamano Maro saw Sutehime’s complexion, his own face immediately clouded with shock. “Sute—what’s wrong with your face?” Silently, Sutehime pointed her index finger at the corpse shrouded in rags—her voice had deserted her. Hakamano tore away the tattered cloth and inspected the corpse’s face—then a scream-like shriek burst from him.

“Isn’t this Kainoumasuke? Ah—the tongue... Sute, was this your doing?” “Yes.”

“How dare you do this.” “There was no other escape for me.”

Rather coldly—“The tongue was bitten off by accident. I never intended it—not in my mind nor during my resistance”—Sutehime said as if recounting another’s affair. “I now see Sutehime anew for the first time,” “Until today, I hadn’t realized you held such regard for this Hakamano.”

“Nothing,” she said self-mockingly, forcing a bitter smile. “It’s simply that things turned out this way due to the circumstances of the moment—though I must apologize to Sir Kai for what happened. To you, I merely showed that I wouldn’t treat this as someone else’s affair. My true intent wasn’t some reckless impulse—it was simply that I couldn’t bear it. I just couldn’t bear it.” “Your body?” “I was only touched.” “You’re a remarkable woman—they say you were originally the child of a samurai.” “What does it matter if I was a samurai?” “Now I’m just a stray woman of the mountain folk.”

Hakamano thought Sute was speaking with forced bravado, but he couldn't believe this composed version of her could harbor such indifferent coldness. That Sute had felled Kainoumasuke—a man even Hakamano couldn't control—with one strike went beyond astonishment; he suddenly grew wary of her, this woman who contained the source of such marvels. There was no telling if she might conspire with young bandits against me—today he sensed an unprecedented mysterious beauty emanating from all of Sute. The slight emaciation—skin parched and drained of color following that murderous intent—finally stood out conspicuously.

“Sute, from today onward, I will take good care of you.” Sute did not reply and continued her self-mockery.

“I was too jealous, and I did not know your true heart.”

“Rather than that, bury Sir Kai with proper ceremony.”

“Hmm.” “Treat him like a noble.”

At that moment, Hakamano had his underlings carry Kai’s corpse while following behind them and said: “Sute, I too might meet such a fate someday—enemies lurk everywhere.”

“Mountain bandits can’t help it—left to rot in the wild. Me too, you see.” “You’re a woman—you could slip through and live long…” “It’s all the same—no one knows what tomorrow holds.” As autumn turned to winter in the mountain stronghold, Sutehime’s complexion grew sallow, her chest tightened painfully, and days when she lay barely touching food became frequent. Hakamano Maro gathered roots and tree bark to boil into brews he pressed upon her, but they brought no relief. Suspecting ritual impurity or spirit possession, Hakamano ventured to the capital’s outskirts seeking an aged midwife versed in medicine. Sute herself—perhaps haunted by some lingering curse—found her oppressive days unbearable; she climbed onto a rock in the mountain stream and released a violent scream of retching vomit. The pain came in waves that seemed to crash through her whole body, and during those moments of heaving agony, even the mountain ridge appeared to sway like water watching its own tides.

One day, Hakamano brought an aged midwife and showed her Sute’s condition. Upon seeing this midwife’s face, Sute came to understand how humans develop severe expressions as they gradually age. The midwife looked at Sute and said plainly. “Ah,” she muttered. “It can’t be anything else.” Then she whispered into Sute’s ear. “You’re pregnant.” “What’s ‘pregnancy’?” “It means there’s a human child moving in your belly.”

Sute tried not to show her surprise and asked the midwife in a low voice. “About when was it?” “I believe it was around mid-summer month.” The midwife rubbed the belly and, after examining it, declared it certain. Sute revealed a look of astonishment in her eyes for the first time and then seemed to immediately acknowledge it. The midwife indicated the month and approximate day the child would be born, said she would come whenever summoned, and descended the mountain. Sute knew without a doubt that she was pregnant with Kainoumasuke’s child. Sute went out to the riverside and, with moist eyes, felt a gentle, indescribable sweetness in her belly. In that brief moment of that day—when one person had died and another had been destined to be born—the inexplicable mystery of these events struck this woman. Hakamano stood rooted before her and angrily shouted.

“Whose child is this, on earth?”

Sute did not answer. From that day on, Hakamano treated Sute—who lay bedridden as if sulking—as a nuisance, staring contemptuously at this solitary woman whose beauty was fading. "Lie down further in the corner where you won't be a nuisance," he said. When the midwife climbed up again as spring approached, Hakamano led her outside the stronghold and pressed with harsh questions; the midwife stated there was nothing unusual about the pregnancy. Hakamano meticulously ascertained the month of conception, then admonished her never to visit again. The old midwife muttered "It's not my fault" and left; Sute didn't understand their exchange's content but knew why Hakamano wore that angry expression—nevertheless, she coldly stared back at him as he came storming in. Hakamano said.

“If you can say whose child it is, then go ahead and say it.” “It’s Sir Kainoumasuke’s child, without a doubt.” “Why did you get pregnant with that bastard’s child?” “Who could’ve known such a thing at a time like that? Don’t be an idiot.” “You didn’t realize?” “He came prepared to die—what could I have done to stop him?”

“Drown that brat in cold water.” “I’ll keep him warm and let him live a long life.” “Bring all the rags from the stronghold. I’ll warm them and fatten him up.” “He was born because Kainoumasuke died.” Hakamano thought that rather than his own raging, Sute’s fury was more intense and unmanageably domineering—in her desperate, damned composure, this woman had become a different person. Ever since then, he had no desire to approach where two eyes glinted fiercely day and night within the stronghold, but now he had come to overlook Nobushino Masaru disposing of waste. Nobushino Masaru continued attending to Sute day and night, but in a fit of spite, Hakamano bellowed, “You can have such a filthy woman!”

Masaru worked diligently and silently, tending to meals and waste. Deep in the stronghold’s recesses, Sutehime’s eyes alternated between moments burning with a beast’s unblinking glare, stretches of dazed vacancy without a flicker, and flashes of seeking shelter in shadows like a wild hare—their glimmers crossing through these states.

When green season came to the entire mountain and stronghold, the old midwife ascended, Nobushino Masaru worked like a tireless white mouse, and at last Sutehime bore a single large infant alone. The baby grew ceaselessly, and from the moment she had given birth, even the coarse patches that had marked Sutehime’s face were wiped away, leaving skin smooth with newfound beauty. Hakamano’s astonishment fixed upon her transformation; he narrowed his eyes and tried to approach her side, but Sutehime repelled this aged beast in one motion like scolding off vermin. By then, even Nobushino Masaru could no longer draw near. Sutehime cradling the child had become itself a scene spilling over with raw allure. An unplaceable lullaby seeped thin from the stronghold’s depths to outside—even the underlings passed by wearing faint smiles that said *Ah*, *so that’s how it is*.

Hakamano knew that unless he took the baby from Sute or killed it, Sute would never become his possession again. One day, while Sute was asleep, Hakamano tried to pick up the baby but was discovered by the sharp-eared Sute. “What are you doing?” Sute shouted, clutching the baby tightly to her chest. “It’s because of that thing that you hate me.” “Are you trying to kill this child? Tell me the truth.” “Leave it to me. I’ll make sure there’s no suffering.”

“Lord Hakamano, I’m the woman who bit off Kai’s tongue. If you so much as lay a finger on this child, I’ll… your entire body—” Sute’s gaze smoldered with something as dark as soot as she continued, “—I’ll grind not just your body but your windpipe to pieces. Touch this child even once, and that’ll be your end. See? Even this takes no effort—”

Suddenly, Sute grabbed the bamboo fire chopsticks stuck in the hearth and clamped them between her lips—in the blink of an eye, she crushed them with a crunch between her upper and lower white front teeth. Fresh blood spurted from her teeth and lips, racing in all directions. Hakamano visualized with chilling clarity Kainoumasuke’s blood-smeared face from that day—a mangled visage where nothing remained distinguishable. “See? Even brass.” The moment she took up the brass rod again and brandished it, Hakamano could endure no longer; feigning composure as though suddenly remembering urgent business, he hurried out to the area before the stronghold. If left enraged like this, she’d crush every last tooth—what a woman! For that baby’s sake, there was no telling what she might do. For the first time in his life, Hakamano felt fear—fear from the slovenly Sute who lay so close in their bed. He tried dismissing it as absurd—thinking she merely meant to intimidate—but absurdity was never truly what it seemed.

Hakamano immediately encountered Nobushino Masaru at the stronghold's side. "Masaru, I've put you through hell lately. Let's go." With this, he scraped the mountain sword—its blade sheathed in wisteria vines—against a stone and sliced through the bindings. He then thrust the bare steel before Masaru's eyes. "You take up arms too," Hakamano roared. Masaru replied with icy composure. "Lord Hakamano, slay me and you'll fracture the band. These are crucial times—we mustn't act hastily." Having said this, Masaru departed.

“I acted rashly; my vision was clouded,” he thought. Returning to the stronghold, he tended to Sute, wiping *the* mouth and applying medicinal herbs. “I’m sorry,*Sute*. It was my fault,” he kept saying.

A few days later，Sutehime，holding the baby before everyone’s eyes with a bold，nearly ice-cold expression，began to leave the mountain stronghold． Hakamano said． “Where are you going？” she said． “I made a promise with Her Highness of Shijōin to have this child looked after at her residence．” “And you won’t come back？” “That’s unclear—it depends on whether this child can be properly taken care of．I won’t disregard my debt toward you，whom I’ve raised since thirteen．”

Nobushino Masaru said in a strained voice, “Please come back.” Hakamano earnestly added with forced gentleness, “Return without fail—a woman like you won’t last in the capital. This much is true.” “Whether she returns remains unclear,” came the reply. At Hakamano’s command, a horse was readied. Clutching that gauze insect veil as proof, Sute mounted it and left the mountain stronghold for the capital where she’d heard Lady Shijoin’s manor stood. Dazed by this sudden turn he couldn’t comprehend, Hakamano watched her go—every inch of him itching with phantom memories of her smooth skin—his gaze clinging like winter frost to retreating blossoms.