Pathway to Japanese Literature

Author: Naoki Sanjūgo

One

When he opened the sliding door of the anteroom (a small chamber within the castle where Senior Councillors conversed with close associates),

“Is this an urgent matter?”

With that curt remark, Governor Echizen sat before Matsudaira Izu-no-kami Nobutaka (great-grandson of Nobutsuna).

“It’s not exactly urgent, but—have you heard of someone they call Ten’ichibō?”

With that, Nobutaka smiled faintly with his lips while staring intently into Governor Echizen’s eyes.
Governor Echizen nodded,

“Has there been any communication from the Shoshidai?”

The temple page was in the corridor.

“I have brought the tea,” he announced loudly.
When Governor Echizen clapped his hands, the sliding door was opened.
“It is quite cold.”
With that, he bowed deeply, placed the tea before the two men, and quietly exited.
Night had already permeated every corner of the tea-ceremony-style small room, and a piercing cold seeped through.
“When asked if His Majesty now has any recollection—given that Ten’ichibō claims to be an illegitimate royal offspring and possesses credible evidentiary items—”
Nobutaka laughed loudly and,

“His Majesty, for all that, was quite a man of considerable mettle in his youth…”
“There should still be two more… but if they were to appear like that, it would be unbearable.”
“Therefore—if he were indeed the true illegitimate royal offspring—how should we handle it?”

Nobutaka paused there, then stared at Echizen while twisting his lips.
Governor Echizen remained silent.
Nobutaka placed the lid of the tea bowl and brought the hot tea to his lips.

“If he is proven an imposter, there will be no objection.”
“If by chance he were confirmed as the royal offspring—what would we say?”

He took a sip of tea.

“Would you call it destroying one’s parent for the greater cause? For the Tokugawa house, even if he were genuine, we must dispose of him as an imposter.”

Nobutaka set down his tea and stroked the vermilion-lacquered brazier while

“The reason being—as vulgar parlance goes: nurture over lineage. Permitting one raised in lowly circumstances past twenty years of age to enter these castle walls would invite manifold complications.”

“Secondly, there seem to be disaffected rōnin in the vicinity.”

“If there were any objections to this individual’s disposition and they were allowed to remain as they are, it would sow the seeds of future calamity.”

“For the eternal prosperity of our august house—given precedents like Tadanaga, Tadatsuna, and Tadateru—and considering His Majesty’s gracious words urging prudent handling of this matter, Echizen—even if he were genuine, I want him disposed of as an imposter. What say you?”

Governor Echizen remained bowing his head.

"Since this would form the foundation of discord and instability—however pitiable—I require you to confront it with a strategy of rigorous measures. That is what this consultation entails."

"I understand perfectly."

With that, Governor Echizen raised his face.

“I shall give this thorough consideration, but there remain many days yet before we arrive in the capital.
“Once we arrive—”

“That may be so, but do not forget what I have just said—once we arrive, you are to arrest him immediately.”

“I shall give this thorough consideration.”

Governor Echizen

(I shall give this thorough consideration.)

Had he said that, then even if someone had tried to make him elaborate further, it would have been impossible.
When Governor Echizen was selecting a financial officer,

“If you divide one hundred into two parts, how much does that make?”

he asked.
Fifty—an all too obvious fifty—but the man brought an abacus, placed one hundred, then two, and meticulously tallied each bead before...

“It is fifty.”

the man answered.
Echizen smiled and

“Very well. As a financial officer, you must be that thorough.”
“Good.”

he praised, but that very meticulous Governor Echizen

“I shall give this thorough consideration.”

Since he had now said it twice, Nobutaka—

“I trust this matter to you.”

With that, he shifted to small talk.

II

A low ash-gray sky—would it turn to snow?
Would it turn to rain?
A dusk steeped in piercing cold.
Nobutaka hunched his back over the metal-wire grate atop a black-lacquered brazier decorated with maki-e, contorting his lips, shutting his eyes—then coughing—a cough that echoed shrilly through the desolate small study.

“Lord Ukyō has just returned and awaits your audience, but—”

As the footsteps in the corridor halted, a clear voice sounded near the base of the shoji.
Nobutaka straightened up.

“Here.”

Nobutaka said sharply.

“Bring a lamp.”

As he called out to the receding footsteps, he parted the charcoal embers and sat up straight.

Night had faintly settled over the shoji when the shadow of a lamp shifted and footsteps drew near.

“Lord Sakai Ukyō has arrived.”

“You’ve returned?”
“You may enter.”

With that, Nobutaka smiled.
When the lamp swayed close to the shoji, two maidservants holding candlesticks entered from behind Ukyō.
Ukyō crawled two or three feet beneath its hem on his knees and prostrated himself.

“I humbly pay respects to Your Excellency’s unharmed person—”

As Ukyō began to speak—Nobutaka waved his hand.
“Enough with the formalities. Come here.”
With that he signaled with his eyes for the maid who had placed the candlestick to leave quickly.

“In this unseemly attire, I fear I am defiling Your Excellency’s gaze.”

“Legitimate?”
“A fake?”

placing both hands on his knees, inquired of Ukyō, who was bowing his head.

“There is no doubt he is the illegitimate royal offspring, Your Excellency.”

Nobutaka remained silent for a while, staring intently at Ukyō’s topknot.

“Was there any sign that someone from Echizen came to investigate?”

“From Echizen?”
“From Echizen, you say...?”

“Tadasuke.”

“Hah, from Governor Echizen, I have not observed any such indications whatsoever.”

“Hmm…”

Nobutaka thrust the fire tongs into the ashes and pressed down.

“You left nothing unchecked?”

“Hah, the village officials, the headman, and those nearby have also visited the district magistrate’s office.”

As he took from his pocket an investigative report concerning Ten’ichibō’s background—endorsed by village officials and the district magistrate—

“For Your Excellency’s review.”

he placed it before him.
Nobutaka turned toward the candlestick and gazed at the documents bound with thin large-format Mino paper.

“Hmm—I was not aware there were so many details.”

“Hah, both the woman called Sawanoi and her mother passed away over ten years ago, with none of the district magistrates or village officials from that time remaining in service. However, according to testimonies from nearby peasants, there was indeed a child at Kanno-in who appeared to be the Illegitimate Royal Offspring—one who vanished without a trace. Therefore, all now regard Ten’ichibō as the Illegitimate Royal Offspring.”

Nobutaka set down the documents.

“You’ve done well—I shall require you to make another trip soon.”

“Hah.”

“It must have been cold—your journey.”

“Not to such an extent, Your Excellency.”
“I have brought back mandarins, Your Excellency’s favorite—”

“Hmm, treasured indeed—the first harvest unseen this winter. Rest well.”

After Ukyō had left, Nobutaka reread the documents once more. Then, taking a handbox fastened with a leather strap from the alcove, he unlocked it and stored them away at the bottom.

III

“Iga, that went well.”

After sending off Ōoka Echizen-no-kami and entering the room with Akagawa Daizen, Ten’ichibō remained standing atop his sitting mat and murmured in admiration—albeit quietly.
Yamauchi Iga-no-suke kept his eyes lowered and wordlessly settled into his seat.
As Ten’ichibō started to sit down and opened his mouth to speak—only to be silenced by a sharp glance—two maidservants shuffled in without raising their eyes and removed the cushion where Ōoka had been seated.
Jōrakuin, who had stood behind Ten’ichibō,

“Indeed, Lord Yamauchi’s eloquence leaves me thoroughly impressed even now. Even the renowned Ōoka Echizen-no-kami retreated with his tail between his legs without a word—truly impressive, I must say!”

Iga remained silent, arms crossed and head bowed, but...
“No—”
He muttered under his breath and shook his head.
“What is it—”
As Daizen picked up one of the victory chestnuts from the offering tray and peered at Iga’s face—
“I cannot fathom Echizen’s intentions.”
“Intentions?”
“Why did he ride in a caramel-colored woven-lattice carriage? Why display purple banners with the hollyhock family crest?—Echizen isn’t one to ask such things without purpose. That man asked with full awareness of the implications, but when pressed, I could not refuse to answer. When I answered, he stared fixedly at my face—and glanced fleetingly at Lord Ten’ichibō’s face—”

“Indeed, he also directed a sharp glare—an unsettling gaze—at me, but—”

“Is it not said that Echizen excels at reading physiognomy?”

As Jōrakuin rolled up his robe and stuffed tobacco into his long pipe, he interjected.

“Regardless of physiognomy, he used the interrogation as a pretext to observe our facial expressions.”
“Debating whether [you] were the Illegitimate Royal Offspring or an imposter while trying to gauge our reactions—he had it all plotted out.”

Iga-no-suke bowed his head and closed his eyes. Governor of Echizen turned to Iga-no-suke—

"Why did he ride in the caramel-colored woven-lattice carriage without permission?"

The tone in which he said this contained a sharpness that suggested he would not let the matter rest depending on the response.
The people listened with hearts racing, blood running cold, and bodies taut with tension—wondering how Iga-no-suke would navigate this interrogation, knowing these exchanges would determine their life-or-death stakes—but if Ten’ichibō were truly the Illegitimate Royal Offspring, matters like caramel-colored carriages or three-leaf hollyhock crests would be trivialities for another time.

Iga-no-suke was fully aware of that, but when pressed with such questioning, he could not refuse to answer. But as he answered and explained clearly, Ten’ichibō, Daizen, and Jōrakuin all reddened slightly in the face, stiffened their entire bodies, bulged their temples with tension, smiled faintly, or exchanged glances—and the Governor of Echizen spent more time intently observing the four individuals’ shifting expressions than listening to Iga-no-suke’s words. At the very least, Iga-no-suke clearly understood Echizen’s true intentions.

However, since Echizen was scrutinizing everyone's expressions, they couldn't keep their countenances unchanged; moreover, by the time they adjourned and warned everyone to guard against Governor Echizen's observation, it had already grown far too late.
Given there was no doubt Ten’ichibō was the true Illegitimate Royal Offspring, there should have been no need to alter their expressions during such interrogations. Yet precisely because all present—Ten’ichibō himself and his retainers alike—believed Echizen to be an illustrious magistrate, and because they feared both the evidence examination and the success of their verbal parrying might unpredictably sway their fate, they broke into cold sweat during each exchange with Iga-no-suke.

“Hmm.”

With a clattering sound, Daizen stuffed the dried chestnuts he had been crunching into his cheek.

"I see—"

"Do they mean to brand me an imposter?"

Ten’ichibō shouted rapidly, his forehead paling.
Iga-no-suke remained bowed down, shaking his head.

“Not necessarily.”

“Not necessarily?—”

Iga remained silent.
Oppressed by the air of unease, the assembled people rapidly spun through various delusions while staring fixedly at Iga’s broad forehead.

IV

Nobutaka, who had been in the Senior Councillors’ anteroom adorned with a muted ink-wash painting of wild geese, upon hearing that Echizen had arrived at the castle,

“To the private chamber.”

Having said this to the attendant, he stood up and turned to Inaba Sado-no-kami.

“What a stubborn one, isn’t he?”

With a smile, he thrust both hands forward, arched his back, and stretched.

“What now?”

With that, he stepped out into the corridor.
The high-ceilinged broad corridor, with its tatami flooring edged in black-lacquered trim, was cold from the frozen wind.
Nobutaka, walking hurriedly, turned a corner.

“I have been waiting for Your Excellency.”

In the dim corridor, a monk crouched and prostrated himself.
Nobutaka positioned himself with his back to the alcove where hung Kano Masanobu’s tea-stained treasure ship painting.

“That was unexpectedly quick.”

With that, he sat down.

“I have investigated.”

“Hmm, and?”

“There is no mistake—he is indeed the Illegitimate Royal Offspring.”

Nobutaka remained silent，his gaze fixed on the collar of the Governor of Echizen.

“As for both the royal seal and dagger—if they prove genuine—there remains no alternative but to recognize him as the Illegitimate Royal Offspring.”
“Yet how shall matters stand once Kishū’s investigation concludes!”
“Though I shall dispatch investigators posthaste, unless evidence emerges in his birthplace and native province proving he is not the royal offspring, I cannot—in my capacity as Governor of Echizen—deem him an imposter.”

“However—”

Nobutaka overrode him: “As I stated earlier—the proverb about sacrificing the greater to preserve the lesser holds true here.”
“I’m told that among those retainers sits one Yamauchi Iga-no-suke—a most shrewd operator—”

[Nobutaka] looked at Echizen’s face.

“He is quite a remarkable individual—”

“As a magistrate, even if there were genuine evidentiary items [to support him], for the sake of the shogunate―”

“No—if genuine evidentiary items existed, their essence would be discerned.”

“Even were that essence fully discerned—as I previously stated—”

“Yet governance’s foundation resides in rectification.”
“To affirm what is straight as straight, and what is bent as bent—”

“This I know full well.”
“That Echizen declares this as magistrate—Lord Nobutaka grasps its import thoroughly.”
“But Ten’ichibō’s affair carries such weight that governance’s exigencies may warrant law’s bending—”

“No—there exists no governance that may bend the law.”
“To convict one who possesses proper evidence is to overturn the very foundation of governance.”
“If Your Excellency insists on compelling this course, then I must request that you appoint another in Echizen’s stead as South Magistrate. For as long as Echizen holds this office—be it by order of the Senior Councillors or even His Lordship the Shogun—he cannot punish one who is innocent.”

Nobutaka's lips twitched in displeasure.

“However—the investigation in Kishū has yet to conclude, and all matters depend on its outcome—but as long as Echizen holds this office, he will not employ the law as mere expediency.”

“Should this matter become known to the populace, it would pose a far graver crisis to public trust than permitting Ten’ichibō entry into the castle’s inner precincts.”

“The people rely on administrators because administrators do not bend the law, and because administrators do not distort the law; were an innocent person punished, both the nation’s laws and the authority of its administrators would from that moment plummet to the ground.”

“Which bears greater gravity—the people of this realm ceasing to trust Your Excellency’s governance, or Ten’ichibō entering those precincts—”

“I am well aware of that. If we dispose of it quietly without leaks—”

“As a magistrate, Governor Echizen’s conscience does not permit this. Should a magistrate lack the resolve to uphold the law, the law becomes disrupted—and such disruption forms the very root of political disorder. A magistrate cannot perform his duties with an attitude that says, ‘What matters is that nothing leaks.’ Walls have ears and sake jars mouths—to pass judgment without the slightest error under the law’s illumination is my solemn duty.”

“Will you dispatch a messenger to Kishū immediately?”

“I shall dispatch them posthaste.”

“In that case, I shall entrust all matters accordingly—no—Echizen’s—”

With that, Nobutaka laughed brightly.

"That is how it must be."

With that, he nodded repeatedly.

“I am deeply obliged.”

“That you enjoy such high regard in society is only proper—I could never rival you, Echizen! Ahahaha!”

With that, Nobutaka laughed heartily, filling the private chamber.

Five

As an urgent messenger had arrived from Matsudaira Nobutaka, Andō Tatewaki, senior retainer of the Kishū Domain, made his retainers carry his prized Nanki Shigekuni wakizashi and a basket of mandarins, then hurried his palanquin along.

When Nobutaka saw Tatewaki, who had entered with the tip of his nose red from the cold,
“My apologies.”
With that, he bowed lightly and respectfully.
“Is it something serious?”

With that, Tatewaki—a man over sixty—promptly pulled the brazier closer and inquired briskly.

“I would like to request your assistance.”

“By all means—as much as you require.”

“Regarding the Ten’ichibō matter―”

With that, he lowered his voice and—

“Echizen—”

Having explained Ōoka Echizen-no-kami’s position,

“So—before that fellow’s underlings leave for Kishū—prepare fabricated evidence proving him an imposter. When our envoys arrive, have them secure it and return. But I need one or two sharp-witted, tight-lipped men—”

“Yes, a trifling matter indeed.”

“Therefore—”

Nobutaka produced the documents Sakai Ukyō had brought back.

“If someone were to rebuke the district magistrate and village officials outright—‘This negligence in investigation! With such evidence suggesting Ten’ichibō is an imposter, shifting blame onto your predecessors is utterly improper!’—then no further steps would be needed.”

“I see.”

“Village headmen and peasants—if we have them spread rumors, those ignorant masses will act without restraint.”

“Understood. All matters are agreed upon—we shall dispatch them immediately. Even Echizen’s men surely will not depart tonight. From here, returning—if by fast horse, it’s a four-day journey. For the town magistrate’s men, it would take ten days. Good!”

With that, Tatewaki stood up.

“Shigekuni has been completed. If it pleases you, please accept it as a ceremonial gift.”

After offering his greetings, the old man opened the sliding door without waiting for Nobutaka to pull the signal cord and ring the bell. A samurai who had been in a room one ken away flusteredly stood up, and—

“Will your lordship be returning to your residence?”

With that, he bowed respectfully.

Six

“Ah, Your Honor.”

With that, the village headman hurriedly retracted his legs—which had been stretched out toward the hearth—adjusted his collar, and sat up straight.
The servants retreated into the cow shed while the children fled into the storage room in surprise after being pulled along by their mother.
The village headman prostrated himself by the hearth as his heart constricted under the district magistrate’s sudden visit.

“There are a few things I’d like to ask.”

“Yes, yes.”

With both hands planted firmly on the floor, he remained prostrate.

“You will come up here.”

“Hah!”

Having said that, the village headman tried to have someone bring water for washing feet and looked around for his household members, but since no one was there,

“Oh my.”

With that, while he was sticking out both hands, the District Magistrate came up.

“It really is cold, isn’t it?”

As he held his hands over the hearth, a samurai entered.
The magistrate turned around and—

“Come, over here—it’s rather shabby, but—”
said the magistrate.
The village headman
“Someone, bring tea quickly!”
he shouted angrily.

“Ubei, this here—”

When the package brought by a samurai was opened, the district magistrate took out a sedge hat.

“Yes, yes.”

With that, the village headman planted both hands on the floor.
As the village headman’s wife timidly slipped past behind the two samurai, lowering both hands to her knees,

“Hurry up, you fool!”

With that, the village headman scolded.

“Do you recognize this?”

Ubei tilted his head, placed both hands on his knees, and stared fixedly at the sedge hat.

“That—it says ‘Takazawa’ there.”

“Yes.”

“Do you know who Takazawa is?”

“Takazawa?”

With that, Ubei tilted his head.

“Takazawa? Hmm... Mr. Takazawa?”

“Do you know Takazawa, the acolyte of Kannōin?”

“Ah!”

With that, Ubei raised his right hand in the air and broke into a smile.

“Um, Lord Ten’ichibō—”

“Hmm.”

“That’s right—that person’s childhood name was Takazawa. This here belongs to Lord Ten’ichibō—”

“Now then—that one happens to be an outrageous imposter.”

“What?!”

“Officials conducting inquiries from Edo discovered this evidentiary sedge hat. You see—this darkened area here—it’s blood.”

Ubei nodded, his mouth hanging open.

“Having murdered Takazawa and stolen both the royal seal and dagger, that vile imposter has been fraudulently posing as Ten’ichibō.”

“Ah──”

With that, Ubei gazed at the black spots that were supposedly bloodstains and the torn part.

“Now then, I believe this must be Takazawa’s handwriting—what say you?”

“Yes, yes—that must indeed be the case.”

As Ubei craned his neck to peer—a samurai—

“If it is false, then declare it false.”

said sharply.

“No, this is indeed Mr. Takazawa’s handwriting, yes.”

“It isn’t false, is it?”

“No, Your Honor—”

With that, Ubei twisted his brows.

"The villagers are gossiping all sorts about Ten'ichibō, but unlike ordinary rumors, carelessly declaring Takazawa to be Ten'ichibō will bring trouble upon you."

Ubei kowtowed, pressing his head against his knees as if rubbing them.

VII

As envoys for Ōoka Echizen-no-kami’s investigation in Kishū, constable Hirata Sangorō and one other person came to Hirasawa Village.
And as their first stop, they came to the district magistrate’s office, and—

“I must offer my profuse apologies.”

With that, the district magistrate guided the two to the guest room and immediately said.

“An apology?”

“When envoys dispatched by Lord Matsudaira Nobutaka, the Senior Councillor, previously arrived for investigation, given the abrupt nature of their visit, they could not conduct an inquiry—this being before my appointment to this post, I knew nothing of the matter whatsoever. Having reported this circumstance, various inquiries had been made within Kishū Domain as well. Recently, it was revealed that the individual called Takazawa—who bore no suspicion of being anything but the royal offspring—was in fact slain by unknown assailants at a wayside shrine on Shihōkyō Pass, approximately three ri from here. It is believed his killer was none other than Ten’ichibō at that time—”

“And then—the evidence?”

“Only one.”
“The sedge hat worn by Lord Takazawa—I shall now have it brought here.”

A maid brought sake and food.

“First, a drink.”

“No—such formalities must wait until after the investigation is concluded.”

Sangorō said in a firm tone.
The district magistrate clapped his hands and summoned a subordinate, then—

“Bring forth the sedge hat from the case.”

he commanded.
The sedge hat that had been stored in the storehouse was placed before the two.
It was an aged, rain-beaten sedge hat, faintly legible as “Takazawa Dōgyō Ninin” [Takazawa and Traveling Companion], with tears here and there.

“I see.”

With that, Sangorō moved the hat toward the shōji and stared intently at it while—

“This would be blood.”

“Indeed. It appears he was struck down mercilessly from the head with a single slash.”

“I would like to humbly request the loan of one subordinate to accompany me to that wayside shrine.”

“I shall comply.”
“Though termed three *ri*, it would measure nearly four *ri*.”
“The road itself is not unduly arduous—”

With that, he clapped his hands and ordered a guide.

Sangorō then investigated the village headman, the villagers, and Kannōin Temple.
There had been a lovely child named Takazawa among the people, but he had vanished without a trace.
The people speculated that he had likely been killed, and that the current Ten’ichibō was an imposter—that he had probably murdered Takazawa, stolen the royal seal and dagger, and was now brazenly claiming to be the illegitimate royal offspring.

Sangorō returned to Edo carrying the sedge hat as an evidentiary item along with transcripts of testimonies gathered from the villagers.

VIII

The bronze giboshi of Sukiyabashi Bridge shone russet from being polished by passersby's hands.
Because it was said that Ten’ichibō would pass by the South Magistrate’s Office to receive instructions regarding an audience, people gathered at the base of the bridge—gazing at the river, eating grilled rice cakes, listening to street fortune-tellers’ spiels, and exchanging chatter with their neighbors.

“We thought we were the only ones nabbing servant girls, but what’s this—”

“After all, we’ve got time to kill—unlike you lowborn lot who wander and loiter here and there. Even now, there must be seven or eight royal offspring, right?”
“That’d mean four or five concubines.”
“On top of that, this time around—begging your pardon—we’ve got mongrel stock of cows and horses added to the mix!”
“How’s this—you’d get some sharp wench to bear your child, but take a good look: a nose flat as a lion’s muzzle, teeth crooked as a fence—the parents’ sins visited upon the child—what a sight!”

“Hmph. Even if he doesn’t take after me, if he takes after that guy, he’ll end up looking like some heavenly scholar’s son.”

“And they say the husband’s the only one who doesn’t know.”

“Shh! The bastards’ lackeys are here!”

With that, one person panicked and tugged on someone’s sleeve.

“Where?”

“There—change your clothes.”

“That’s them? Bwahaha! Careless fools calling them ‘shogun’s lackeys’—here they come! Clever disguises, eh? Just business as usual.”

“There’s also that rumor about Ten’ichibō being an imposter, right?”

“Hmm, depending on how things go, there might be a big arrest on the bridge.”

Townspeople were talking on the bridge and along the moat while samurai on foot and horseback came and went through their midst.

“During Genna and Keichō we took an enemy general’s head and received two hundred fifty koku, but since then our stipend has never increased.”
“The law stipulates we must employ three samurai, but we can’t even feed five family members.”
“If someone were to claim they’re a boy and get granted a modest stipend, even Ten’ichibō would receive at least fifty thousand koku.”

“No—he’d be a dependent.”
“A room is a room, but not all rooms are the same.”

Talking loudly, the two country samurai strode past.

“No matter how much of an illegitimate royal offspring he is—”
“But there’s no helping it.”
“But you—”

Such conversations were being exchanged by many voices.

IX

When he passed through the entrance and emerged into the corridor, people were lined up in the rooms on both sides, bowing their heads.
Ten'ichibō, driven by pride, satisfaction, and an unaccustomed excitement toward such solemnity, walked along dazedly until a plank door entrance appeared before him.
When he had gone two or three ken further, the plank door opened behind him, and Ōoka Echizen-no-kami stood imposingly at the head of the entranceway.
Ten'ichibō, his heart constricted, smiled with his eyes, gave a slight respectful bow, and approached—

“Ten’ichibō.”

Echizen said in a loud voice.
And then, taking in his left hand the sedge hat that a samurai had presented, he thrust it toward Ten’ichibō—

“Do you recognize this?”

he said in a fierce tone.
Immediately, Akagawa Daizen, who had been following behind, strained every nerve to survey Echizen’s men surrounding them on all sides.
Ten’ichibō didn’t understand why, but as Lord Echizen’s words were fierce, he leaned his head forward and peered into the sedge hat—

“Takazawa, you imposter!”

With that shout, he thrust his right hand into his chest.
Ten’ichibō staggered, not knowing what to say or what to do.
Am I truly the Illegitimate Royal Offspring, or am I not?
When Yamauchi Iga-no-suke had said that to him, he had felt that way, but when Lord Echizen—

“Takazawa.”

When called that, he also felt like a Takazawa without lineage or background.
His mother had died when he was born, and as for him, there was no evidence he could believe on his own that he was the Illegitimate Royal Offspring.

“You imposter!”

Having been told this, he tried to deny it—but for Ten'ichibō, who had believed himself the Illegitimate Royal Offspring for nearly a year and a half, who had long discarded Takazawa’s life from his memory, the two existences were too starkly different. Everything—the blow to his chest now, someone gripping both his arms, Akagawa’s shouts, Jōrakuin’s wails, the clamor—all felt like a dream. The two extreme lives became confused, rapidly rotating and flickering in his mind as—

“No.”

He shouted and shook his head, but Lord Echizen was already gone, and the ropes were digging into his wrists.

“Do not move.”

Then someone shouted in his ear and jabbed his back. Daizen too, while raising both arms, was being clung to by five or six officials. In the rooms on both sides stood crowds of people with their sleeves tied back.

When Iga-no-suke had declared him the Illegitimate Royal Offspring, and then the life that followed—and now—all of it seemed like an unexpected dream from the perspective of Takazawa of Kan'ōin, accustomed to his familiar existence. Ten'ichibō thought even being bound like this might be a dream—that soon something unexpected would happen again, and this time he might find himself at the shogun's side. None of it made sense. For over a year now, no matter how he tried to reason it out himself, everything remained utterly incomprehensible.

“Somehow, things would turn out again,” he thought. As he shifted, the restraints tightened painfully around him, stoking his resentment. “The world—isn’t it strange?” he said to the officials.

With that, he laughed at the officials.

“Audacious wretch!”

One of them glared.

“Impudent fool!”

said one of them.

X

“I have come to report Lord Sakai Ukyō’s urgent message.”

“With that,” said Shindō Saigorō, the messenger, from the adjacent room next to the Senior Councillors’ waiting chamber to Lord Nobutaka.

“Consider it reported: no issues.”

The three Senior Councillors were gathered around a fire bowl, laughing about something, but—

“At this moment, at the South Magistrate’s official residence, Ten'ichibō Jōrakuin, Akagawa Daizen, and their associates have been apprehended.”
“The entire retinue has secured Sukiyabashi Bridge, leaving none of the palanquin bearers—”
“As for the fellow called Yamauchi—”
“At an inn in Shinagawa, the ceremony of seppuku has been conducted.”
“That concludes my oral report.”

“Well done.”

Saigorō prostrated himself, then retreated two or three feet backward, prostrated himself once more, stood up, and left.

“So it’s done?”

Nobutaka smiled.

"What new scheme has that Echizen concocted now?"

Inaba muttered.

“This stays between us.”

Nobutaka lowered his voice.

“Since that man is inflexible, after consulting with Tatewaki, we took advantage of finding Takazawa’s sedge hat in Kan’ōin’s storehouse. We smeared dog’s blood on it, made a cut, preempted Echizen’s subordinates, and set it up as evidence of the imposter.”
“That Echizen found it and seems to have concluded he’s an imposter, but we had to pull off quite the trick there! Ahahaha!”

With that, he laughed cheerfully and triumphantly.

“As a magistrate, he is peerlessly benevolent, but he doesn’t grasp political subtleties.”
“The law is a living thing—its subtlety lies in adaptability. But Echizen’s way fixates solely on never bending it, rigidly adhering to right and wrong—”

“When someone starts to say that, he’ll just twist things around again.”

“The law changes with the times; it is not immutable.”
“My reasoning—if I were Echizen—is that even without the sedge hat, this would be the proper way to handle Ten’ichibō’s disposition.”
“In other words, when bending the law benefits those in power according to the sentiments of the age, it is permissible. In Ten’ichibō’s case, clearly, recognizing such a man as the Illegitimate Royal Offspring would neither align with public sentiment nor serve the interests of His Majesty’s reign.”
“In such times, even without evidentiary items, they should be disposed of as imposters—that is how the law is utilized.”

“Absolutely—absolutely.”

With that, Nobutaka nodded to Inaba.

Itakura,

“In that case, shall we proceed with the disposition as a five-handed trial?”
(The five-handed trial was a judicial proceeding involving the North and South Magistrates, the Magistrate of Temples and Shrines, inspectors, and the collective presence of Senior Councillors.)

“Very well.”
“At a time when society is abuzz with various rumors, it would be beneficial to make the judgment clear.”

“In that case, I shall entrust this matter to Your Excellencies on monthly duty.”

Ah, the burden has been lifted from my shoulders.

“Now, returning to our earlier discussion—what about that woman?”

With that, Nobutaka looked at Itakura’s face.

Eleven

After Ten'ichibō’s execution had been carried out, on a warm day, the elderly Andō Tatewaki visited Governor Echizen.
And then, at the end of their conversation,

“Is that sedge hat genuine?”

When he asked—both out of a desire to know how much his scheme had deceived Ōoka and because it would serve to test Governor Echizen’s acumen—the governor smiled and,

“Hahaha.
“And you, old sir?”

He stared fixedly into his eyes.
When Echizen lightly addressed him and stared into his eyes, Tatewaki—even wondering if he’d been seen through—was slightly flustered, but...

“There is likely no mistake in Your Honor’s judgment—”

“Precisely—it’s not about the sedge hat’s authenticity, but the soundness of the judgment.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“The sedge hat may have been someone’s trick—”

With that, Echizen lowered his head.

“If Echizen investigates Kishū, secures the evidentiary items, returns to declare him an imposter, and carries out the disposition, then even if Ten’ichibō were the true Illegitimate Royal Offspring, the people’s hearts will not waver.”
“Lord Nobutaka stands as the architect of His Majesty’s reign, yet unlike myself—who would dispose of matters only after exhausting all due procedures—he appears to disregard the Magistrate Office’s duties in favor of grand political calculus.”
“If the execution followed thorough investigation and pursuit of necessary evidence, then even if it later became clear that the sedge hat had been fabricated under Lord Nobutaka’s instructions—and even if Echizen bore responsibility for any oversights in being thoroughly deceived—the people would still maintain trust in a magistrate’s office that had investigated to such lengths.”
“To let the people believe that even with a magistrate’s office, its duties may be arbitrarily swayed by higher authorities without investigation—that would have been Echizen’s blunder. However, for an administrator, it is more loyal governance for the people to perceive that thorough inquiries were made. I fully comprehend how recognizing Ten’ichibō as heir would sway public sentiment. Yet as magistrate, so long as I uphold the law, I intend to follow it unwaveringly—so the people may trust that justice proceeds through lawful means.”

Tatewaki remained silent for a while with his head bowed, then murmured as if to himself:

“That was something I had made,” he said.

“Amateur craftsmanship, isn’t it?” Governor Echizen laughed.

When Tatewaki raised his face, he had tears glistening in his eyes.

“I beg you, Echizen—the treasure of the house, the treasure of the nation.”

As he said this, the easily moved old man let tears stream down his cheeks,
“It must be so. I am ashamed—utterly ashamed.”

With that, he pressed both hands onto his knees and let tears plop down onto his kimono.