Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

A white whirlwind swirling, 'War' soared in—crossing the border between Satsuma and Higo alongside a blizzard said to come once in fifty years.

It was February 1877.

To the Meiji government of the time,

"To conduct an official inquiry,"

the stalwart youths of Satsuma proclaimed. With Saigō Takamori—whom they revered as divine—at their helm and under the leadership of local commanders including Kirino, Beppu, and Shinohara, they organized their force of 3,400 men into two artillery battalions and sixteen platoons,

vowing: "Though a hundred obstacles bar our way!"

Having sworn a death-defying oath and embracing their purpose of marching to the capital, they had already departed Kagoshima.

However, here in Kumamoto stood the government garrison.
Should they permit their passage or block it?
The garrison's resolve remained unwavering,

“Even if he were a general, Saigō is already a man in a sinecure. Moreover, they have organized a private army and are attempting to march to the capital with full military preparedness—a grave violation of national law. It cannot be recognized as a legitimate means of conveying public sentiment.” They were in complete agreement on this point.

Moreover, as for their individual sentiments—

“If the stalwart youths of Satsuma possess fiery blood, then the men of Kumamoto bear hearts of iron.
Patriotic devotion is not his alone.”

Thus declaring, each gathered their tragic resolve at the garrison headquarters—one part of Kumamoto Castle.

Amidst this, the town of Kumamoto shed the twilight of the 18th.
Not a soul was in sight, let alone the usual lights.
The entire city trembled in the swirling haze of powdery snow spewed by dark clouds.

II

“Are your preparations complete?”
“It will soon be nearing seven o’clock.”

The citizens had already evacuated almost entirely several days prior.
This evening, the only place where human voices could be heard was the Samurai District that served as the garrison officers’ residences.
“Is your household also prepared?”

“Yes.”
“Just like preparing for a journey.”

Even gentle laughter could be heard.
Fear, sadness, cold—such ordinary notions had long since vanished from everyone’s mind.

Today’s directive from the garrison stated—

*Women and children, the elderly and young, the sick, etc., shall evacuate to relatives in nearby villages.*
*Only those without unavoidable circumstances and families not averse to death shall return to the garrison by seven o'clock this evening.*

It stated.

The garrison’s military council had apparently decided on a siege defense.
Until they could ascertain their husbands’ plans, the officers’ wives had remained in their homes until the very end.
And within just half a day, each of them had completed all their preparations,

“I have no regrets now.”
“All that remains is to be with my husband.”

Thus united in resolve, the women banded together under hoods and straw hats, urging one another toward the garrison by the appointed hour.

Among them stood Tani Kumaneko, wife of the garrison commander.

Though she had scarcely attended to her own household affairs while daily visiting her husband’s colleagues’ families, today Kumaneko seemed burdened by still greater responsibility—

“Oh, Mrs. Yokura hasn’t arrived yet, has she?”

She herself went to check at the gate a short distance ahead.

The wife of Lieutenant Colonel Yokura Tomozane, commander of the 13th Regiment, was pregnant and nearing her due date amid these circumstances.

“Would it not demonstrate loyalty to your husband to evacuate to the countryside and safely deliver your child there?”

Though Kumaneko and the others all urged her earnestly, Mrs. Tsuruko Yokura—

“It’s all right. Since this is a warrior’s child, it’s good to let them hear the cannons while still in the womb. Moreover, my husband in the besieged castle could meet his end in battle at any moment, and if I could show him our child even once at birth, I cannot imagine how much it would mean to both father and child.”

Having said that, she would not consent.

However, being heavily pregnant after all, it appeared her preparations had taken some time.

—When Kumaneko called out from the gate,

“At this very moment, I’m having my sister put on my straw boots, so I’ll come right away.”

A reply came from near the entrance.
And before long,

“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

Supported by her sister Mikiko, she walked out into the snow.
Even through the thickness of the straw coat wrapping her hunched shoulders, there was evident care to shield her unborn child from the snow’s chill.

III

When they approached the castle, outside Geba Bridge’s moat, a platoon of soldiers had come out to greet them.

Like a flock of white herons, the group of women disappeared into the garrison’s mountain.

Within one section of the castle, many other women and families of officers and soldiers besides them had also come to take refuge.
They had spread straw mats across the wide floor and were living together in close quarters.

“From now on, the entire castle will be one family.”

“What a grand household this will be. We humbly ask for your wise guidance.”

It felt almost like a joke. They might have been striving to keep each other’s spirits up. Gentle laughter suddenly swelled.

“It’s cheerful here. The women are even more spirited!”

A booming voice resounded outside the room. When they turned around, Major General Tani Tateki, the garrison commander, stood in the corridor with five or six staff officers, including Major Kodama Gentarō and Lieutenant Colonel Kabayama Sukenori.

Lieutenant Colonel Yokura, the regimental commander, was also positioned behind.
Amidst the multitude of women, the Lieutenant Colonel's eyes appeared to have instantly discerned the form of his pregnant wife, yet he maintained a countenance of deliberate unawareness.

Or rather, as all the women had their hands pressed to the floor facing Major General Tani’s figure, Mrs. Tsuruko too could not raise her eyes to her husband, the Lieutenant Colonel.

Major General Tani Tateki acknowledged their gesture with a warm gaze.

"This time, we find ourselves in unavoidable circumstances.
As a personal sentiment, I feel equally pained for each of you—but from the lofty ideal of being a soldier’s wife, having been granted this opportunity to offer our lives together for the nation, we should consider it our shared joy.
To protect the national constitution and uphold our nation’s fundamental principles, we will fight alongside this castle until our last breath.
We will not let a single rebel soldier pass beneath these walls.
...Yet how many days can a lone fortress endure?
Siege warfare tests endurance; provisions and all else must be self-sustained.
By gathering here the domestic support you usually provide at home, many duties now depend on your strength.
Having come this far, you must have long since resolved yourselves for death—but as your unworthy garrison commander, I feel compelled to say this."

When his weighty words concluded, a faint sob rippled through the hushed crowd.

“Very well. Staff Adjuvant—” said the general, turning to Major Kodama, “Have the women divided into appropriate sections such as the hospital and logistics department, and have them assigned as soon as tomorrow to minimize their exposure to danger.”

“Understood, Your Excellency.”

“Pay special attention to those who are pregnant, nursing infants, or elderly women.”

“Yes, sir... I will take full care myself, but I believe it would be better for women to oversee the women’s management. I will make sure to thoroughly coordinate with Your Excellency’s Madam as well.”

Then, Lieutenant Colonel Yokura spoke up from beside them.

“But Major Kodama—where has Your Excellency’s Madam gone? I don’t see Her Excellency’s Madam anywhere.”

“What? She’s not among them here?”

“Hmm,” he replied. “I’ve been discreetly looking since earlier, but she’s nowhere to be found.”

Suddenly, everyone exchanged glances.
The officers too scrutinized the crowd.

“We definitely walked together with her as far as Geba Bridge by the moat,” one woman insisted, “calming Mrs. Yokura along the way.”

The women who had left the residence together now raised an anxious stir, fearing some misfortune might have befallen their leader during the journey.

At that moment, Lieutenant Hiraza, the regimental adjutant, came running up,

“Your Excellency. Sergeant Okamoto has just returned.”

He reported this.

“What? Has Okamoto returned? Alone?”

Upon hearing this, the general returned to headquarters as though indifferent to everyone’s concerns about Madam’s whereabouts.

IV

Covered in snow and mud, Sergeant Okamoto stood rigidly in a corner of the headquarters.

He was dressed in a rickshaw puller's attire.
He had infiltrated deep into enemy territory since yesterday with Third Clerk Ichirō Karasuma to gather intelligence on movements in the Kawajiri area, but when Karasuma was discovered and pursued by Satsuma sentries, he found himself alone and barely managed to return to deliver his report.

“The Beppu unit of the rebel vanguard will lodge in Minamata tonight and is expected to advance to Kawajiri tomorrow. They consist of two battalions—the 6th and 7th—forming a main force of 1,600 troops.—Meanwhile, units such as Kirino, Shinohara, and Ikegami are heading down the Kuman River toward Yatsushiro. The whereabouts of Lord Saigō have not been confirmed, but it appears factual that he has encamped in Yokogawa.—And the Satsuma forces’ invasion of Kumamoto’s city proper is estimated to most likely occur on the morning of the 20th.—That concludes my report.”

Before Major General Tani and his staff officers, Sergeant Okamoto delivered his report in one breath.

"You've done well."

The general, having acknowledged his efforts,

"What happened to Karasuma?"

"We were discovered by rebel soldiers and pursued, but he kept shouting ‘You run! Just you run!’ so, considering the report’s importance, I raced ahead to return."

"Then, was he taken prisoner?"

“No, given how agile Karasuma is, I believe he must have escaped. However, with rebel scouts and sentries now deployed everywhere along the way, I fear for his path back.”

At that moment, voices arose outside the headquarters' windows.
The non-commissioned officers and women were summoning Lieutenant Colonel Kabayama and pleading with him.
Mrs. Kumaneko Tani, the general's wife, could not be found anywhere they searched.
They came to convey everyone's desperate plea to dispatch troops beyond the garrison walls and organize search parties.

Whether he had overheard those voices or not, Major General Tani moved to the adjacent room.
He then informed his adjutant and ordered a platoon of soldiers to be disguised and urgently deployed outside the castle walls.

However, this was not a search for Mrs. Kumaneko—
it was to rescue Third Clerk Ichirō Karasuma.

“Yes, sir. Understood.”

When Lieutenant Takahashi’s platoon departed, Lieutenant Colonel Kabayama immediately proposed to Major General Tani.

“Everyone is concerned for Madam’s safety as well.”
“Let’s send a few people outside the castle walls to look for her.”

“That’s unnecessary.”

Major General Tani laughed.

"As you know full well, she's an unexpectedly carefree soul—no doubt dilly-dallying on some whim right now."
"Ah—rather than that, have Major Kodama, Lieutenant Colonel Yokura, and Battalion Commander Hayashi assemble in the staff room. There's a tactical matter I wish to confer about."

V

A candle had been placed, and on the desk lay a map spread out.
With Major General Tani at the center, the staff officers' faces gathered around it as they were deliberating something in hushed voices.

In the dimly lit corner behind them.

It seemed like there was someone’s presence.
And then came the crackling sound of charcoal fire.

Lieutenant Colonel Kabayama, who had been focusing his eyes on the map spread across the desk, glanced away and—
“Who’s there?—Benzo?”

“Yes.”
“I am the custodian.”

The elderly custodian Benzo set down the charcoal bucket and straightened his posture, but when no further words came, he returned to tending the large brazier’s kettle—adding water, fetching bancha tea utensils—going about his duties in silence.

The elderly custodian Benzo had been a loyal servant who served the household as a groom ever since General Tani’s days of being transferred from post to post—from junior councilor of Kochi Prefecture to staff officer under the Governor-General of Taiwan—but having now aged and become unable to run ahead of horses, and being a trustworthy man to employ as a custodian attached to the headquarters, which handled many secrets, he had been formally put on the garrison’s payroll when the general was transferred from Taiwan to Kumamoto the previous year.

Therefore, with Benzo alone, the staff officers felt no need for vigilance.
Nevertheless, as the discussions that night involved critical strategic secrets, each time he slipped in or out—letting cold air seep through the entrance and making the candle flames waver—the staff officers, though aware it was him, found themselves glancing over their shoulders every time.

“Benzo, I’ll call you if needed. Return to the custodian’s room.”

“...Yes.”
“Yes, sir.”

Benzo immediately exited the room. But he did not return to the custodian’s room, instead gazing at the dark night sky where fine snow still swirled. For a while, he seemed drawn toward the staff room, but suddenly—like a wild horse that had snapped its stable reins—he dashed down the garrison hill.

VI

Having borrowed the custodian’s room to wash his limbs and change into his uniform, Sergeant Okamoto had been harboring suspicions about Old Benzo’s behavior for some time now; he stood beside the headquarters, monitoring the old man’s movements.

Ordinarily, Sergeant Okamoto might not have entertained such suspicions, but the lingering exhilaration from having infiltrated enemy territory just two days prior—having accomplished his critical espionage mission and narrowly escaped death—still coursed through him. Thus he immediately interpreted Old Benzo’s actions through that same lens.

"Ah—something’s wrong."

After muttering, he ran to the cliff's edge and watched through the trees.

The old man’s figure was so vigorous and swift that it seemed unimaginable for an elderly person.
From his prime through many years, his shins still bore traces of having run alongside horses.
However, that very agility only reinforced Sergeant Okamoto’s suspicions.

Sergeant Okamoto reacted instantly,

"That bastard.
"He went to leak something to the enemy!"

He had come to believe Benzo was an agent of the rebel army.
The sergeant also immediately ran off somewhere.
No sooner had he thought this than he was running down the main approach slope, holding a Snider rifle.

Around the map in the staff room, where their white breaths showed as they quietly deliberated, the people suddenly turned their faces from the candlelight,

“Oh—the sound of a rifle?”

They strained their ears.

A single gunshot had indeed gone off somewhere, it seemed, but after that, silence returned as before.

“...Given the circumstances, I’ll go take a look.”

Lieutenant Colonel Yokura went out.

Even a single rifle shot instantly set the entire garrison’s nerves ablaze.
In the lieutenant colonel’s eyes appeared the figure of Sergeant Okamoto, surrounded by soldiers who had come running, as he excitedly made his way up the slope.

“Where was that rifle shot fired? Was it rebels or someone from the garrison?”

“I fired the shot.”

Sergeant Okamoto stepped forward resolutely and stated his reasons for having identified the custodian Benzo as a spy.

VII

After seeing off the group she had gathered that evening as they safely entered the garrison, Mrs. Kumaneko Tani turned back toward her home. Then approximately two hours later, she climbed the hill of Kumamoto Castle alone once more.

When she came below Iidamaru, the sound of a rifle was heard.
She had not paid it much mind, but after proceeding a short distance, she found a figure collapsed beneath the stone steps.
The figure writhing in the snow appeared to be in agony.

“Oh! You’re... Benzo, aren’t you?”
She realized immediately.
It was Benzo, who had served their household for many years.
When Benzo heard that voice,

“Madam...?”

he exclaimed with wide eyes.

Protesting “What a waste! What a waste!” as he writhed and refused to comply, she forcibly supported the old man over her shoulder and gradually ascended the snow-covered stone steps.

The rifle bullet seemed to have struck Benzo in either the waist or thigh.
As he cried out “It hurts! It hurts!” like a child over her shoulder,

“What is this? And here you are, a member of the garrison—”

Kumaneko scolded as she carried him up.

The crowd that had gathered in front of the headquarters, startled, surrounded her and Benzo.
She had a doctor summoned and laid Benzo down in the custodian's room for the time being.

For a time, he had been suspected, but fortunately, Benzo was able to speak, and through his testimony, the misunderstanding was quickly clarified.

It was entirely due to Sergeant Okamoto’s misunderstanding that Benzo had attempted to leave the garrison during his custodian duties—because he had been more concerned for Mrs. Kumaneko’s safety than anyone else.
Overwhelmed by concern for his former mistress, he had intended to dash to her residence without even informing the general to confirm her safety.

After hearing the rationale from Lieutenant Colonel Yokura, General Tani came to the outside of the custodian’s room. And when he saw his wife Kumaneko, “What were you doing?”

and reprimanded her curtly.

“I deeply apologize for causing you all concern.”

After offering this apology to those present,

“In truth, after everyone had evacuated, I returned to the residence to complete unfinished cleaning tasks.”
“When the rebel forces inevitably enter Kumamoto town, they will certainly search official residences. I burned all letters and documents to prevent mockery about fleeing in disarray—even scrubbing the floors thoroughly delayed me.—This is a safe childbirth amulet I received during my recent visit to Nishikiyama Shrine. I retrieved it from our household altar to present to Mrs. Yokura.”
“Please deliver this to her later.”

and she handed it to Lieutenant Colonel Yokura.

General Tani had been listening expressionlessly, but when her words ended,

“Kumaneko,
"I will inform you—and I want you to relay this to the women in the garrison.
—From this day forward, the entire garrison shall unite as one and enter a state of war.
By ‘unity,’ I mean every part from the tips of one’s nails to each strand of hair.
Nails, hair, hands, legs—none of these parts can live on their own.
Know that hands and legs exist only when there is a central body.
—Even an act such as yours this evening, though born from a soldier’s wife’s habitual resolve, must no longer be conceived through the mere notion of a housewife—for you have now joined the organization that is the central body.
A household or a husband is not the central body—they are merely a single unit.
I want you to bear in mind serving the greater central body that exists above that.”

he admonished.

"I understand. Though this reprimand was directed at me, I shall convey it exactly as received to everyone."

After that, Benzo, laid on a stretcher, passed quietly through.

The regimental hospital within the garrison had been reorganized into a wartime hospital effective that night.

“Gramps here’s our first patient!”

Peeking under the stretcher’s blanket, the soldiers laughed, but Benzo’s face remained incapable of laughter.

No—it was Sergeant Okamoto who followed behind the stretcher with profound remorse etched across his features, moving in desolate silence. The general’s words to Kumaneko now provoked deep introspection within his own mind.

VIII

The morning of the nineteenth arrived with constant reports of the Satsuma forces' advance; the entire army's typhoon-like visage and killing intent—poised to sweep through Kumamoto in one fell swoop and push northward—now pressed so close that the garrison soldiers could feel it on their skin.

However, it was around eleven o'clock that morning.

While Commander Tani and a few mounted staff officers were out inspecting the city, a fire broke out near the Ninomaru keep during their absence.

The snow had cleared, but it was a day of fierce winds sweeping down from Mount Kinpu.

The flames spread in an instant and consumed the important buildings from the Honmaru to Iidamaru and Takemaru.
The tall towers of the First Keep and Second Keep also burned down.
The towns below the castle—Tsuboimachi, Yabunouchi, Kyomachi, Shioyacho, and others—were struck by flying embers and transformed entirely into a sea of flames.

“...Ah, what calamity.”
“And before battle’s even joined—”

By evening, the fire had finally been extinguished, but the officers, exhausted from directing the firefighting efforts, could only stare blankly at the charred ruins for a time.

"The headquarters shall immediately relocate to the Uto Turret!"
—Accelerate repairs to telegraph lines!
Logistics Department staff shall immediately investigate remaining inventory amounts and assemble at the Staff Department!
All units shall establish rotating shifts and rest every two hours!
—All defensive position deployments shall not deviate by even a hair's breadth! Those who move without authorization shall face severe punishment!

The headquarters messengers ran about.
The signal trumpets blared resoundingly.

When one looked up, high upon a surviving section of the scorched castle structure—the Uto Turret—the white command flag fluttered with unwavering resolve.

“That’s right!”
“What’s a fire to break our spirit?”

When the officers and soldiers regained their senses, they immediately began carrying out their respective duties with utmost intensity.
The telegraph was restored by night.
The Logistics Department sent up cooking smoke.
The women’s corps were stationed at the hospital and worked busily in the hastily prepared barracks.

Having worked through the night at the scorched site, the engineers looked up at the charred treetop of the tall tree with pained expressions and lamented together as dawn broke.

“...Ah, even this giant ginkgo tree had burned.”

It was the giant ginkgo tree before the main keep—its trunk requiring five arm spans to encircle—that towered as Kumamoto Castle’s renowned symbol. In autumn, this great tree’s golden leaves shimmered so brilliantly when viewed from the castle town below that people reverently called the fortress “Ginkgo Castle,” a name befitting such a storied arboreal monument.

“Even people have their lifespans! At a time like this, are trees worth mourning? Even if our bones burn to ash, what must never perish are the great principles of our national constitution—the defense of our imperial polity! For that purpose, we must cast everything into battle without hesitation!”

The young engineering officer screamed.
The engineers offered cheers of "Banzai!" to the ginkgo tree, now transformed into a towering pillar of charcoal.
As if in answer, the roar of cannons thundered from the Kawajiri direction.
From throughout the castle town as well, the crackling reports of rifle fire erupted.

The vanguard of the Satsuma forces appeared to have already entered the city streets.

IX

“As garrison commander you have devoted yourself solely to defense—why did you not seize Mitarashi Pass’ strategic heights and implement an aggressive strategy to crush our enemies?”

This was where Tomioka Takaaki, the prefectural governor, first challenged General Tani.

Similar objections naturally existed among the staff officers as well.

Yet, Major General Tani Tateki had valid reasons and convictions.

“The garrison soldiers are all militiamen assembled through the conscription system.”
“They are sons of peasants and merchants still lacking sufficient training.”
“Should they engage the elite Satsuma forces and suffer defeat, nearly all would desert.”
“If we retreat now to defend the garrison, it would already be too late.”
“Moreover, the expeditionary forces’ navy and army remain at Kobe’s distant port—we cannot urgently await their arrival.”

A telegraph had already been sent to the nearby Kokura Regiment urging them to dispatch reinforcements immediately.
In response to this, there had been a return telegram from Major Nogi Maresuke, the acting regimental commander, stating that the Third Battalion and First Battalion had been dispatched and had already advanced as far as Kurume.
However, since it was evident that the Satsuma forces could fully block them with all their might, whether they could actually join forces with the Garrison was something that had to be seriously doubted given the Regiment’s troop strength.

Solitary fortress.

All we could rely on was that the 2,580 personnel within the garrison would become truly united in spirit, devoting their lives to the nation.
There was nothing else to rely on but that.

"Even before hostilities commenced, the conflagration we suffered served to burn away any distracting thoughts of relying on others, thereby further solidifying our convictions."
"In that sense, let us raise a toast and boldly confront the grueling trials of defensive warfare!"

That morning, after opening a bottle of wine and toasting with all his staff officers, Major General Tani Tateki ascended to the top of Uto Turret.

It was precisely when engineers raised cries of “Banzai!” near the charred remains of the giant ginkgo tree.

Other engineering units were burying landmines at key positions around the garrison’s base while constructing defensive barricades.
Even to unaided eyesight stood revealed this stark division—between citizenless urban rooftops and garrison-crowned heights lay battlelines sharply drawn by moats’ trenches and barricades’ spines with minefields’ teeth.

“Ah. Officers from the Logistics Department and soldiers from the Transportation Corps. Oh, they’ve hauled quite a lot here!”

Through the binoculars pressed against the general’s eyes appeared distant earthen bridges and highways at the city’s edge. A column of fifteen or sixteen carts and some two thousand horses laden with rice sacks came into view.

Bullets whizzed toward them from behind rice paddies and houses. Figures of Satsuma soldiers emerged. They appeared to be a reconnaissance unit—the Satsuma forces too had few in number. Yet the allied logistics troops began losing formation as they were slashed apart by the enemy’s drawn swordsmen.

“Lieutenant Colonel Yokura! Lieutenant Colonel Yokura!”

He shouted down from the turret.
However, as he was apparently not present, Major Oku came running up.

“Oh, you’ll do. Immediately dispatch a company to support the logistics unit that went to requisition provisions outside the city this morning. They’ve already reached that earthen bridge but are being blocked by the rebel reconnaissance unit and are in dire straits.”

Having confirmed the location through his binoculars, as Major Oku rushed down, the general shifted his gaze and looked down toward the western sector of the garrison.

The snow on the field hospital's roof also melted.
The hill beside it was the mountain artillery battery; the square in front of it was the firing range.
Next was the structure of Nishidemaru.

In that vicinity, the diligent figures of many women could be seen.
Some were using white cotton cloth as hair fasteners.
Some were wearing red sashes, others were clad in work uniforms, laboring alongside the soldiers.

From the burnt remains where engineers had dug up miso and rice bales, and from mountains of provisions whose original forms were gone, they were still sorting out whatever parts seemed even slightly edible.

The general suddenly felt a tightness in his chest.

Though the conflagration had earlier been declared a divine blessing, according to the provisions staff’s survey records, prior to the outbreak of fire there had been over 550 koku of stored polished rice and 116 koku 1 to of unpolished rice—at a daily consumption rate of 29 koku, this should have sufficed for approximately twenty days. But due to the fire, over 500 koku—the majority—had been crossed out in red as lost.

What was to be done about this provisions resupply?

Though he did not fear the Satsuma forces, the problem that most concerned him was precisely this issue.
Where were they supposed to procure exactly and supply the allocation of 7 gō 2 shaku 5 sai per soldier for 2,580 troops?

How many days would the current stockpile last?

“Commander, a telegram has just arrived from the Expeditionary Army Headquarters.”
“It is from His Excellency Yamagata Aritomo, the Army Minister.”

Behind him, a telegraph clerk stood at attention.

“Oh.
“I see.”

Just as he was receiving and examining it,

"Well now, in the midst of all this chaos, something truly momentous has come up!"

With a cheerful smile, Major Kodama came up.

“What’s this now? You say something momentous has occurred?”

“Mrs. Yokura has given birth at the hospital. A boy has been born.”

“Well! The cannon fire this morning must have started her labor... A joyous occasion. Quickly inform Lieutenant Colonel Yokura.”

“I’ve had privates tell him since earlier to come see the newborn right away, but he says being on duty at the Danyama position means he can’t go see something like that. …Putting up a stubborn front when he’s clearly dying to take a look.”
“Heh heh heh.”

“Thank you.”

The general turned toward Danyama and slightly lowered his head, but then straightened his posture and said to the major.

“Major Kodama. I would like to go visit as well, but I cannot leave here even for a moment.” The general turned toward Danyama and slightly lowered his head, but then straightened his posture and said to the major. “...Since my wife has experience, could you also tell her to look after her during her postpartum recovery?”

As noon approached, the artillery fire began to drone and reverberate. The Satsuma forces’ siege formation appeared fully established now, their shells landing with increasing precision—several fell near the delivery room where newborn wails still lingered, kicking up clouds of soil.

10

At night, the hospital ward's windows turned bright red, as if fitted with stained glass.

Though not as intense as during the day, the mutual artillery fire had not yet ceased.
Fires had broken out in several locations across the city area.
Flames could also be seen at various defensive positions of the garrison.

Near the garrison field hospital there, trees and thickets were burning.
But to eyes beholding this great conflagration on all sides, no one paid heed even to something as small as a fallen cigarette ember.
The crackling and popping sound of green wood could be heard near the ears of the white bedding.

“...Would you care for some rice gruel? Sister.”
“Mrs. Tani prepared it and brought it here.”

Mikiko whispered to her sister, the new mother, at her bedside.

Tsuruko Yokura, wife of Lieutenant Colonel Yokura, had fortunately had a safe delivery.
This morning, amidst the simultaneous thunderous roar of artillery shells from both our Kumamoto forces and the enemy Satsuma forces, she went into labor and gave birth to a boy.
Given that it was a siege and a military hospital to begin with, with no midwives present, everyone's flustered state when delivering the newborn was beyond description.

“Mrs. Tsuruko.”
“You must not sit up.”
“Stay as you are.”
“Stay just like that.”
“…Ms. Mikiko, please feed the rice gruel to her lips with a spoon.”

Toward Mrs. Kumaneko's figure in such a state, Tsuruko raised only her eyes,

“I’m sorry—amidst this battle, to cause everyone such trouble.”

“What are you saying? That is simply your usual consideration. For those of us barricaded within this garrison who have become one, there should no longer be any such thing as an individual self. Have you not brought forth His Majesty’s own child?”

“Yes... Thank you very much. Might I ask what the state of the battle is?”

“Please rest assured.
“The enemy forces that pressed upon Danyama, Fujisakidai, and Hokkesaka have already been repelled.
“Your husband, Lieutenant Colonel Yokura, has been defending Katayama Estate Hill against the fierce attacks of the Satsuma forces’ Beppu Battalion since around nine o’clock this morning.
“…Those artillery sounds must be from that.”

“Does my husband know that I have had a safe delivery?”

“Lieutenant Colonel Kabayama reportedly went immediately to the front to inform him. …Once the rebel forces in that sector retreat, he will surely rush over to see the infant’s face without delay.”

“Madam. I... am not waiting for that. On the contrary, I fear that if such personal matters were to reach my husband’s ears, they might even slightly weaken his courage to face the rebel forces.”

“Have you been entertaining such a misconception? Ohoho, let me tell you the truth then—Lieutenant Colonel Kabayama suggested to your husband, ‘We’ll handle the defensive rotations at the position for a moment, so why not come take a quick look at your newborn’s face?’ But instead, he was harshly rebuked with ‘Don’t talk nonsense!’—or so he reported. With your husband’s spirit being so indomitable, why—”

――At that moment, a loud noise―as if something had collided―occurred outside the door.
The small red face wrapped in swaddling clothes suddenly started crying from the shock.

“Who’s there?!...”
“We have a woman in childbirth here, so please be quiet.”

When Mrs. Kumaneko admonished toward the door, outside,

“M-Madam.”
“It is Benzo.”
“Wait, wait—your face over here...”

“Huh? Benzo?”

Why had Benzo, the elderly servant hospitalized in another ward, come rushing here despite being a patient?
Kumaneko wondered what was amiss as she stepped outside alone through the door.

Eleven

Despite still not being able to walk properly, he had come tumbling through the corridor without a cane, and when he collided with the door, Benzo remained sitting right there.

“Oh.
What happened?
You—”

When she lifted him up, the old man, while being raised,

“Go… Please go see him.”
“Hurry… You mustn’t be late!”

“Where to?
“What is it?”
“What on earth—”

“To the innermost room of the ward where I am stationed—L-Lieutenant Colonel Yokura has just now been brought in on a stretcher.”
“S-Serious injuries... they say.”

“What?! Mrs. Yokura’s husband—”

“It wouldn’t do for the new mother to find out, nor would it be proper for the critically wounded Lieutenant Colonel to hear the infant’s cries—so they deliberately brought him to our ward.”
“Lieutenant Colonel Kabayama also appears to have been wounded somewhere, his uniform stained crimson, and at the Lieutenant Colonel’s bedside, he seems to be encouraging him with ‘Yokura—hang in there.’”

Before hearing everything out, she dashed down the long corridor.

As she reached the corner of Ward 4, she abruptly came face-to-face with her husband striding into the area with his adjutant in tow.
He was Major General Tani Tateki, commander-in-chief of the garrison.

They abruptly locked eyes—and that was all.—She silently followed behind the adjutant.

The sickroom was hushed.
The military doctor seemed to have just finished his treatment.
Over the patient—who was covered in blood and mud from the day’s fierce battle and now drenched in his own fresh blood—the orderly who had been holding up a hand lantern blew out the flame from above its chimney and stepped back.

“How is he?
“...Will he survive?”

General Tani brought his face closer to Lieutenant Colonel Kabayama, who stood motionless there, and softly inquired.

“No—
“It seems... quite grave.”

“It’s hopeless…”

For an instant, it seemed as though no one was breathing.
The general quietly approached the bedside and spoke two or three times.
There was no answer.
Only his lips moved.
And the right hand on the bed moved slightly.
As if attempting to raise his hand in salute.

“Can’t we let him have one look?”

The general suddenly turned to address the people in a loud voice.
It was less a voice than a deep sigh.
The face on the bed had already begun to show signs of change.
Something that vied for every second pressed up in everyone’s chests.

“Hey.
Just a moment—”

The General beckoned his wife with his eyes and stepped out into the corridor.
Lieutenant Colonel Kabayama, Major Kodama, and the Surgeon General also quietly converged there.

“Kumaneko.
What do you think?”
“Lieutenant Colonel Yokura has already steeled himself.”

“Is this regarding the infant?”

“That’s right.
It must be now.”
“For Lieutenant Colonel Yokura and his child to meet even once—and part—”

“For the sake of the child who will remain after him when he comes of age, I believe we should still bring him here now.”

"What concerns me is Mrs. Yokura... What say you?"

No one answered.
A look of opposition even flickered across the Surgeon General's face.
Yet Lieutenant Colonel Kabayama voiced agreement with the general's position.

"What if we proceed this way? Once sufficient time has passed after the birth, we must inform her. But for now, let us conceal the truth and arrange some pretext to bring the infant here."

Surgeon General Miura also showed agreement upon hearing this.

“Then that should be acceptable. What concerns me—given she only gave birth this morning—is that no matter how strong-willed she may be...”

Then, Mrs. Kumaneko spoke with modesty yet conviction:
"No, even if concealed, she will soon realize."
"Rather than that, please let Mrs. Yokura share in the honor."
"It is undoubtedly the greatest sorrow, but I must question your concern that she might immediately lose composure simply because she is a woman."
"When those under siege have sworn to unite their total strength, does this mean women alone remain excluded from their numbers?"

“Hmm, we should inform her after all. We must not shame the wife of Lieutenant Colonel Yokura Tomozane—Kumaneko, you go. Go with Surgeon General Miura.”

Twelve

Kumaneko prayed to God as she made her way to Mrs. Yokura’s delivery room.
She had heard of Mrs. Yokura’s valiant resolve and trusted in it, but if she were mistaken, it could endanger the mother’s life.

The comfort between women comrades—I’ll leave that for much, much later.
I will not be the first to cry or lose composure.
For now, I need only inform her of Lieutenant Colonel Yokura’s critical condition.
I should carry this out as one of the solemn military duties that convey the highest honor.
But can I actually do that?

She prayed for God’s strength.
—And when she quietly entered the delivery room and stood by Mrs. Yokura’s bedside, she had completely lost herself.
To one life that existed solely for the nation’s sake, another life became capable of assuming the form of calmly conveying the unvarnished truth in place of heaven.

“Madam… Mrs. Yokura Tomozane.”
“The Lieutenant Colonel has been taken to the ward across the garden.”
“He has died in battle.”
“But faint consciousness remains.”
“He must have stopped by here to see his child.”
“You must not move.”
“As you are—offer a Banzai in your heart for his honorable passing.”
“Let me have someone carry your child instead.”
“Entrust him quietly to the Surgeon General.”

“——”

For about twenty seconds, the parturient woman did not even blink her eyelashes.—Eventually, she remained as she was—

“Please.”

And she nodded faintly.

The Surgeon General, as though touching a scattering flower, gently took the child wrapped in a birth cloth from beside the parturient woman and carried him away.

Overcome by unbearable loneliness, Mikiko, the parturient woman’s younger sister who had collapsed weeping onto the floor, kept her sleeve pressed to her mouth, biting down on the choked-back sobs that threatened to escape.
Tsuruko spoke in a voice like water,
“Mikiko... Mikiko...”
she kept calling.
If she were to answer, she would burst into sobs.
Mikiko did not get up.
She couldn’t even respond.

“What is it?”

When Kumaneko inquired,

"My husband's sickroom...?"
"..."

“It's the ward on the far side of the central garden.”
“Can’t you see the light?”

“I... can’t see it.”
“I beg your pardon, but could you please open that window there?”

Kumaneko nodded and approached.
The window opened.
The light of the distant ward came into view.

The Surgeon General's shadow entered through the door there.
The door remained open, and across the room and corridor, solemn silent shadows stood in formation.
A little apart, the shadow standing at the bedside appeared to be General Tani—the general, her husband, was at the deathbed of a departing comrade; his wife Kumaneko remained by the bed of the surviving wife.

――Far away, the sound of rifles exchanging fire echoed.
Soon, it died out.
A momentary silence enveloped the night.

Then, in the distant ward,

“Japan... Empire... Sons of Japan... Ba... ba... banzai!”

The voice was strange, yet clearly audible.
Lieutenant Colonel Yokura had cried out with his final breath.
Simultaneously, an infant’s cry higher than this morning’s birth wail rang out there.
It was later learned that when the Lieutenant Colonel saw his child in this world’s final glimpse—his eyes snapping open for an instant—he had slightly raised his hand to cry out “Sons of Japan, banzai!” And as he did so, his arm dropped limp from the bed.

Thirteen

February had passed，March had ended，and April arrived，yet the garrison was still being tenaciously defended by the besieged soldiers．

“If we take Kumamoto, the great affairs of the realm will flow through us! Trample over corpses—corpses—yet more corpses and break through!”
“Our rise or fall rests here and now!”

The stalwart youths of Satsuma—who had departed their homeland sharing farewell cups of death, sworn with Saigō to perish honorably—now threw themselves forward with naked blades in hand; now pressed onward harnessing wind and flame; now scorched mountain guns, field guns, mortars in their fury; yet through relentless assault after assault, the garrison remained unbroken.

“How strange—these garrison soldiers who aren’t even eating properly can hold out like this?”

Ikenobe Kichijūrō of the Satsuma forces attempted to tie surrender notices to arrows and have them shot into various defensive positions, but not a single garrison soldier emerged to surrender.

Furthermore, Henmi Jūrōta of the Third Battalion hoisted the Fourteenth Regiment’s military standard—captured from government forces during the Battle of Uekizaka—atop a pole,

“Look at this!”

When they thus showcased the besieging army’s martial prowess and ridiculed the government forces’ weakness, the garrison soldiers’ morale instead rebounded,

“The military standard is not mine.”
“That flag belongs to the nation’s army!”
“You treasonous rebel scum—how dare you disgrace our nation!”

A fierce concentration of rifle bullets and artillery shells rained down on Henmi's unit, and even the formidable Henmi's unit fell silent for a time.

“It seems there are no more usable cannons left inside the castle.”

Murata Sansuke, who had climbed a giant tree to observe, said:

"They’ve cut down the great hinoki trees within the garrison and are making wooden cannons from them."
"Their provisions should’ve run out long ago—they must be eating tree bark by now."
"Just one more push—one more push!"

The besieging army also dammed the Ise River and other waterways, flooding one side of the garrison’s foothills with muddy water.

At Danyama Hill, even reckless close-quarters combat resulting in over a hundred Satsuma casualties and two hundred twenty-five on the besieged side within a single day was repeated, yet still, that defensive line remained firmly in the hands of the garrison soldiers who held fast.

The strategy that Saigō and his staff had pursued from the outset—banking on an immediate decisive engagement—proved a fundamental miscalculation.
The Satsuma forces’ relentless urgency stemmed inevitably from growing desperation.
For during this unexpectedly prolonged stalemate, the government’s punitive expeditionary force—equipped with superior arms from Tokyo, Osaka, and various divisions—had already set out on its southward march.

Moreover, though they held a far more advantageous position than the besieged, across the entire besieging army, the fatigue from their inability to break through could not be concealed. Wherever one walked through the Third, Fourth, or Fifth Battalions, scenes of utmost horror met the eyes. Their fighting spirit remained fierce, but with each battle—countless times a day—the dead and wounded were carried in while the sick increased. The comrades one saw at dawn were gone by dusk. Their artillery and rifles had nearly all been worn out from overuse, and recently they had been relying almost entirely on sword squads and spear units to charge into battle. Because of this, casualties were rapidly mounting.

“This is it! I assess the garrison’s lifeblood will last only four or five days now. One more push! Hold fast! You’ve all seen it yourselves—how the garrison soldiers grow visibly gaunt. What say you?”

Commander Ikegami Shiro, having said this, walked through the bloodstained position while encouraging his allies.
On the way, when he encountered Kirino Toshio, commander of the Fourth Battalion, Kirino also—

“Hmm, I think so too.”
“According to soldiers in the trenches—when we throw potatoes or rice balls into the enemy’s pits—those garrison curs stick their heads out like starving dogs lunging at scraps. Several at once.”
“They say we should take steady aim and pick them off there.”
“Hahaha! No matter how Tani Tateki struggles at Uto Turret—his time’s up now!”

Toshio Kirino roared with laughter.

Saigō and his staff officers at headquarters now considered it a matter of time.
Would the enemy emerge from the garrison to surrender, or would they blow up the entire mountain in a final act of honorable destruction?
They believed it could happen as early as today.

Fourteen

A honeycomb of bullet marks.
On the walls between arrow slits, on thick pillars.
The roof ornaments and eaves tiles that had been blown away were likely due to artillery explosions.

“Major Kodama.
“The flowers have bloomed, but this year alone, the phrase ‘spring in full bloom’ does not apply.
“Everywhere I look, the spring mud lies utterly desolate.”

Standing in the Uto Turret of the headquarters and gazing at the long-unseen clear view, Major General Tani Tateki turned to look at Staff Officer Kodama and revealed white teeth from within his thick beard.

“Your face as well, General.”

“The beard? No—in times like these, I even forget I have a face at all.”

“I’ve even forgotten I have a stomach.”

“Hahaha! Lately, there’s hardly any golden gruel (millet porridge) or silver gruel (rice porridge) coming in. How are you managing provisions for the hospital’s sick and wounded?”

“To the sick and wounded alone—though in meager amounts—we’re distributing golden gruel once daily.”
“Please be at ease.”
“Yet sustaining three thousand souls grows dreadful.”
“Not a single green bud remains on these slopes.”
“The horseflesh stores are exhausted.”
“Soon we’ll be gnawing on tatami reeds and plaster walls.”

“What of Yamamura?”
“Could he have been intercepted by Satsuma scouts along the route?”

“Corporal Yamamura’s fate alone now binds this besieged fortress to the Governor-General’s southbound forces as our final hope… Yet a full month has passed since Yamamura Keisuke slipped through enemy lines in disguise—no word comes, nor can we establish contact with the relief army.”

“Ah... When our reinforcements finally arrive here, will the three thousand garrison soldiers have already starved to death?”

“They should be arriving about now. They might be landing somewhere right now.”

“We must not rely. Staring at the heavens and waiting in longing won’t get us anywhere. The soldiers are pitiable, but let us fight until we starve to death. You too must become the fiend of this lone stronghold for me.”

“It goes without saying. The problem is, even the soldiers assigned to defense have had no provisions supplied to them—since around yesterday, they’ve lost all vitality. The gunshots are sparse and feeble.”

"...Thud!"

Suddenly, both Major Kodama and the General were blasted in the face by dirt from the fierce explosion and staggered.
A shell had struck a nearby wall.

The intermittent afternoon’s fierce attack seemed to have begun.
The sound of gunfire overwhelmingly came from the besieging army.

The turret was constantly targeted.
Suddenly, gunfire poured down in a rattling torrent.

“Ah! Damn it!”

“What happened, General?”

“A shell fragment hit the telescope.
The lens seems to have shattered.”

“Divine protection, isn’t it?
Let’s exchange it with mine.”

“No need for that, but you... At the burnt wasteland of Nishidemaru and around the shooting range—those women are out there. Can you check what they’re doing?”

“Huh? To them?”
"...Ah! I see... General! It's your wife—your wife!"

"Is that Kumaneko? And the others?"
"And the others?"

"The one carrying an infant on her back appears to be Mrs. Yokura, the widow—her younger sister Mikiko is also present."
“In addition, there seem to be others mixed in—ranging from the wives of officers, non-commissioned officers, and police officers enduring the siege to their family members.”

“What on earth are they doing?”

“Madam and the rest all seem to be holding hand baskets and wicker trays, plucking plants.”
“Foraging, I’d say.”

“What? Foraging?”

“Ah! A shell hit the Bunko ruins... Oh! Rifle bullets are thudding into the dirt nearby.”
“I can’t bear to look at this.”

Major Kodama peered into the stairwell that resembled an underground storehouse,

“Sergeant Takai! Are you there? Sergeant Takai!”

“Hah!”
“Major, did you call for me?”

“In the open area beyond Nishidemaru, women have come out gathering plants, but with bullets flying thick around there too—go tell them to take shelter inside the buildings. Say it’s the General’s order! Go quickly!”

"No, Major Kodama, leave them be."

“Why, General?”

“The women must be doing this gladly—with joy.”

“Hah, I do think so as well, but... they needn’t force themselves into danger.”

“Whether facing bullets or starving—it’s all the same. But seeing Mrs. Yokura out there with an infant strapped to her back—that cuts too deep. We men would break under such heartache. We’d die of shame. Tell them I said so—just bring the widow somewhere safe. My apologies—would you go?”

“Understood.”

After Sergeant Takai ran off, Major Kodama also flew through the air.

Fifteen

The days when they could jest about millet gruel as “golden porridge” and brown rice gruel as “silver porridge” were now a dream from twenty days past. They had dug up every last bit of miso and pickled radish from the scorched ruins, consumed even the horses’ oats, and resorted to sifting through dirt and stripping bark from trees—anything remotely edible found its way into their stomachs.

“When you’ve got a bullet, you start thinking—should I shoot the enemy or take down a sparrow to eat?” Hollow-cheeked besieged soldiers and sunken-eyed besieged soldiers huddled in the trenches, their heads lowered like ground spiders as they conversed. The besieged soldiers immediately—

“Ah, what’s happened with the reinforcements’ arrival?”
“Are they going to let us die here?”
“Are they coming or not?”

As they looked up at the sky, their words dissolved into sighs.

“They don’t have to come anymore.”
“I want a bowl of rice steaming hot.”
“If I eat that, I’ll die content.”
“Can’t they give us rice for the Buddhist altar now?”

“Damn it! Evening’s fallen!”
“Another enemy night attack tonight.”
“Steady yourselves!”

“Tonight we won’t move an inch—not even out of sheer spite. When we were starving but our bellies still churned fiercely, we could fight by moving our bodies and forget the hunger—"

Over the trenches that were growing dark, a group of women with their hair neatly tied back and wearing work sashes descended, carrying several buckets.

“Everyone!
“Soldiers!
“It’s miso soup.
“Please eat your fill.”

“Miso soup?”

They let out a roaring cheer.
Buckets and ladles, the bowls the women were distributing—they were nowhere near enough to keep up.

It was a burnt-tasting miso soup, weak in saltiness and seemingly mixed with dirt.
But there were some actual ingredients in it.
The soldiers who had been frantically blowing and slurping grew even more tumultuous upon encountering the unexpected additions in their soup.

“What the—what is this stuff in the soup?”

“They are green vegetables.”
“Believing everyone must be craving something green, Mrs. Tani, the garrison commander’s wife, encouraged us to venture out amid today’s fierce battle—all the way to Nishidemaru’s open ground—where we desperately gathered these.”
“—water dropwort, edible chrysanthemum, wild honewort, and others.”

“What? The garrison commander’s wife…?”

“Even Mrs. Yokura—the widow of Lieutenant Colonel Yokura who fell in battle—carrying an infant less than fifty days old on her back, has been picking water dropwort and greens amidst the incoming bullets, wanting to give them to you all.”

“............”

The shouts and commotion were abruptly snuffed out.
And in the darkness all around, sniffling sounds drifted.
There were soldiers who were crying openly.

Suddenly, the sound of a trumpet announcing the enemy's night attack pierced through Fujisakidai.
Boom-boom-boom! Red flames raced wildly through the darkness.
Somewhere, an echo like the roar of a pack of beasts resounded.

“They’re here! Coming this way too!”
“Goddammit! They’ve broken through!”

“This isn’t like last night!”

The soldiers in the trenches simultaneously took up their positions.

Sixteen

――They weren't coming―not coming―the allied reinforcements weren't coming.

Or perhaps―even if they had already landed as far as Kumamoto's vicinity―they were being cut off by the Satsuma forces and couldn't establish contact with here?

No―that couldn't be possible.
The reinforcements' commander-in-chief's army should have been at least a massive force of tens of thousands.
They were the government's army and navy.
How could they have been blocked by Satsuma forces numbering less than three thousand?

The fate of the isolated castle now hung by a thread.
The wards of the field hospital, and indeed every other building, were filled with the moans of the wounded and sick.
There was no longer any food to give those people.
Of course, there had long since been no medicines or bandages either.

“Everyone.”
“I know this is burdensome, but would those of you who are available please come with me to transport supplies to the granary?”
“To the granary.”

Mrs. Kumaneko Tani was projecting her voice outside.

Over a dozen women who had been working in the wards gathered there. They were coming out from other buildings as well. A women's unit of several dozen was quickly formed. Kumaneko led those people toward the granary that had survived the fire.

In the fire that occurred on February 19th, the day before hostilities commenced, the food warehouses had been mostly destroyed, but some granary row houses had been spared.

That said, of course, not a single grain of rice remained within—every last one had been completely consumed. Lieutenant Yanagawa of the Accounting Section's Provisions Department, seized by doubts yet opening all the doors of the granary row house that now stood empty, did so because Mrs. Kumaneko had suddenly requested its inspection that day.

“As you can see.”

He demonstrated without uttering a word.

However, Mrs. Kumaneko paid no heed to the bewilderment of the accounting staff and provisions officers, ordering all members of the women’s unit to enter and procure food from within.

"Could there be something inside here?"

Among the women, there were those who voiced their doubts with questions.

“There is!”
She declared unequivocally.

The work began.

From the granary that appeared to any observer’s eye to contain not a single grain of unpolished rice emerged over 1.8 koku of glutinous rice, adzuki beans, soybeans, unhulled rice, parched rice, and various other items.
They were taken out in such quantities that they formed a mountainous heap.

Where had it all come from?
Had something been created from nothing?

The reason was simple.
In the granary’s attic, massive timber beams were crisscrossed.
After setting up a ladder, the women peered over the beams.
Covered in rat droppings and dust, mounded adzuki beans and rice husks fell like rain when swept by hand.

Even just the glutinous rice swept from between the wooden planks alone filled a masu to an astonishing level.

Even on the granary floor—trampled for decades by feet still in shoes until its surface grew uneven—digging still revealed edible substances hidden beneath.
They winnowed with baskets, sifted through sieves, and washed them clean.

Suddenly.

As if fallen from heaven, the next day saw sticky rice cakes—untimely yet welcome—being distributed several to each soldier in the trenches and barricaded positions.

“Everyone.
I acknowledge your hardships.
I offer my deepest gratitude.
Your noble sacrifices for our nation will surely—surely—multiply ten thousandfold, a millionfold, illuminating our compatriots’ path.
The Emperor Himself shall take notice.
The gods themselves shall bear witness.
Persevere!
One final effort!
They say travelers on a hundred-ri journey must consider ninety ri as halfway.
This last push will decide victory or defeat.
Even ninety-nine days of triumph mean nothing if lost on the hundredth day.
Though we women can do little else, so long as you keep fighting—we stand behind you.
We labor unseen in the shadows...
...Now then—they may lack sweetness, and though meager in portion—these bush clover rice cakes contain our utmost devotion... Please eat them... and fight.”

While distributing the rice cakes, Kumaneko stood addressing nearly every soldier individually.
The profound sincerity that nearly compelled her to prostrate herself inwardly could not help but blaze from her eyes into those of the soldiers.

Seventeen

Suddenly.
The combat power of the garrison soldiers flared up once more.
The isolated castle, thought to be at death's door, did not fall the next day.
The following day, it still did not fall.

“It’s a miracle!...”

And yet, even the Satsuma forces reportedly never learned what had reinvigorated their enemy’s morale.

In the end, after that too, the castle endured four more days.

That day, to provide even the hospital ward patients with small portions, the women’s unit once again prepared bush clover rice cakes, but Mrs. Kumaneko took some of the remaining ones and went off alone somewhere.

“No doubt she intends to personally deliver them to the commander in the Uto Turret herself finally.”

Just as everyone watched, she walked toward the old honmaru.
The area was a dreadful burnt ruin, but only the giant ginkgo tree—its bark charred, bearing the name “Ginkgo Castle” that had stood before the main gate since earlier times—now towered abruptly and alone amidst the surrounding rubble.

When they looked—today as well.

The old servant Benzo, limping, would draw water from the deep well and pour it at the base of the scorched ginkgo tree.

The amount of water the limping old man drew was barely enough to dampen the dust at the base of the giant tree, yet he repeated this task daily whenever the skies were clear.
He patiently poured it onto the roots.

“Benzo… Benzo.”

“Oh, Madam!”

“You’ve worked so hard. Through your devoted care, this scorched ginkgo will surely sprout new buds.”
“Even just your love alone.”

“Madam.
“I’m so ashamed I can’t bear it.
From the soldiers to the womenfolk, they’re fighting without even proper food to eat, while this old man here—ever since that snowy night when I took a bullet—can’t even walk right… And then to have folks sayin’ Benzo’s gone mad just ’cause he’ll die a cripple—it don’t sit right…”
“That’s when I came up with this watering notion, y’see.
This giant ginkgo tree, as everyone knows, is Kumamoto Castle’s famous feature—they must all be grievin’ its loss.
Wars end eventually, y’know—a landmark tree like this wouldn’t reach such heights without centuries of growth.…At least let this old man try to revive this one through devoted care.
That was all I thought, you see.”

Benzo set down the bucket, straightened his considerably bent back, and gazed up at the giant tree when suddenly tears began streaming from his eyes.

“Ah! Ah… Ain’t there somethin’ like green buds comin’ out on that branch over there?”
“Madam! My eyes ain’t good—take a look for me.”
“With your eyes, Madam.”

“Benzo, it does seem like faint green buds are starting to come out there.”

“I see...”
“Ain’t this old man gone and birthed a child too, just like Mrs. Yokura?”
“Madam, I’ve birthed a child too.”

“I’ll give you a reward.”
“Benzo, please eat the bush clover rice cakes I made… Benzo.”

“Ain’t right for the likes of me. The likes of me ain’t got no right to eat such things. Please give them to the soldiers. No—rather, Madam surely hasn’t taken them up to the turret yet. That’s the master. This is the Madam. That’s right, no mistake about it—it’s exactly as I thought. Even if I get scolded for it, don’t mind me—please take a bite to the master’s place.”

Startled to have her innermost thoughts guessed by Benzo, she gazed up at the distant headquarters in the Uto Turret.

In the narrow opening, the figure of her husband appeared small.

Holding the telescope to her eye.

But the telescope was not looking in her direction.
Far, far to the southwest of the town of Kumamoto—he continued gazing on and on at that distant horizon where the midday haze blurred into the sky.

“The allied reinforcements’ vanguard—Lt. Col. Yamakawa’s detached brigade soldiers—have broken through the Satsuma forces’ encirclement and are charging here from the Kawashiri direction! Our Expeditionary Governor-General’s Army has arrived! The garrison won’t yield now!—”

Major Kodama Gentarō had strained his full voice to deliver the announcement from beside the general merely a short time later—indeed, around three o’clock in the afternoon on the fourteenth.

Piercing blares of trumpets resounded—roaring through every tree on the mountain—jubilation, ecstatic cries.
—and within the garrison, there was not a single living being who did not raise their voice in tears.