Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

“Hey, Makino, you gonna get up or not?” “Have mercy... I really can’t take any more.”

“...Can’t be helped.”

After failing to rouse him, Hyōma turned around. “Give me a hand here, Kobō—this one’s not budging no matter what.”

“You’re the one to blame here, Elder Brother.” Kobō glared gently at her elder brother. “No matter how much I tried to stop you, you kept amusing yourself by making him drink. To let him get this drunk… He must be suffering terribly.” “I didn’t mean to get him this drunk either.” Hyōma, as if deflecting his sister’s reproach, lifted the drunken Makino Tatsunosuke while saying in a low voice.

“Somehow tonight—strangely—I got the feeling Makino was about to say something. Thought if I got him drunk enough he’d spill it easier, but ended up overdoing things.” “Did you have some matter you wished to discuss?” “It’s not exactly a matter to discuss… but somehow it felt that way… I mean—”

Hyōma became strangely tongue-tied. Kobō, startled by this, hurriedly spread out her night robe and draped it over Tatsunosuke’s shoulders. “You’ve brought the lamp along, right?” “Yes.” “Then I’ll carry him over.”

After having Tatsunosuke changed into nightclothes, Hyōma hefted his body into the adjoining room. Having tidied the drinking area with the maid Kano, Kobō entered the bedroom carrying water to sober him up. In the dim glow of the ariake lantern, Tatsunosuke suddenly showed a smile from beneath the bedding. “I’ve caused you such terrible inconvenience.” “No—if anything, it’s we who… Through Elder Brother’s regrettable habit, we’ve imposed this trouble upon you. You must be suffering terribly.”

“Oh, I’m actually not drunk.”

Tatsunosuke showed a smile and, “If I didn’t do that, Hyōma would keep making me drink forever—I only pretended to be drunk.” “But I too have gradually built up some resilience thanks to Hyōma.” “If you have some water, you’ll feel better.” “Thank you, but I’m not drunk at all.” Even as he spoke, Tatsunosuke’s eyes closed naturally, their smile lingering. For Kobō, who had long attended to her brother’s needs, the signs of Tatsunosuke’s severe intoxication—his pallor and the scent of his breath—were immediately apparent. Though he feigned nonchalance, he must have been in unbearable distress. […] Rising quietly, she fetched a paper-lined basin and placed it by his pillow.

Tatsunosuke was sleeping with labored breathing. Kobō folded Tatsunosuke’s discarded clothes while listening to his breathing for a time, but seeing that he seemed likely to remain asleep, she adjusted the lamp’s light and quietly left the room.

Seeing her elder brother already fast asleep and snoring loudly, even after retiring to her own bedroom, Kobō found herself unable to fall asleep.

—He had seemed like he wanted to say something. Those words her brother had spoken were now dancing in her head like living creatures.

The countless memories of Tatsunosuke—who had grown as close as her own brother since childhood—had begun swirling at the center of Kobō’s heart like leaves caught in a whirlpool, coalescing around a single emotion. When her brother had told her moments earlier that Tatsunosuke had seemed to want to say something, it had risen to the surface of her consciousness with a vivid rawness she herself hadn’t anticipated. —Elder Brother had been waiting too.

The joy of having clearly understood this, coupled with her newfound awareness that the time had indeed come for Tatsunosuke to declare his feelings to her, struck Kobō now with the force of an unimaginable revelation—a sensation as though something she could never have envisioned was unfolding before her very eyes.

Makino Tatsunosuke was the son of a senior retainer of the domain. His father, Yokichiueimon, was an 870-koku elder statesman—a man of unwavering character in the Kan'ei-era samurai mold—yet he commanded deep respect among the clan's retainers. From his youth, he had served in pivotal positions of domain governance, and now held the post of castle deputy at Fukuda's new fortress. ...Tatsunosuke was his only son; his mother had died ten years prior, and after his father departed for his post in Fukuda, he had lived in this house in Tsuruoka Castle town with a few servants.

That he had been visiting the siblings so frequently of late surely had its reasons—his father’s absence leaving the house lonely—but it was only natural that Kobō had received this as a kind of wordless declaration.

II

Kobō lay awake, turning the same thoughts over in her mind again and again.

The midnight bell tolled. Having resolved she must finally sleep, Kobō got up to visit the privy. As she opened the small window to wash her hands and suddenly lifted her gaze, she spotted a figure crouching atop the ancient persimmon tree in the front garden, and gasped. —A thief!

That was her immediate intuition. The persimmon tree was a fifty-year-old ancient tree that split into two branches nine feet above the ground, with one limb extending all the way to the roof. The suspicious figure pressed itself flat against the thick branch and appeared to be inching its way toward the roof. —They intend to sneak in through the shuttered window.

Kobō quietly turned back.

After quickly tightening her obi, she took down the naginata mounted on the decorative crossbeam, removed its sheath, and quietly stepped out into the garden. Allowing thieves to infiltrate was considered a disgrace for a samurai household; she intended to drive them off with a warning without needing to rouse her brother. Muffling her footsteps, she moved to the base of the persimmon tree.

The suspicious figure still crouched on the branch; Kobō quietly approached beneath the thick branch and, holding her naginata in a mid-level stance,

“—You villain!” she shouted sharply. “Come down at once! If you don’t submit, I’ll cut you down!” “Ah… Wait!”

With a swift motion, she delivered a warning strike through the air. …the figure in the tree cried out “Ah!” as— “Wait! It’s me! Lady Kobō—it’s dangerous!” “...Ah!”

With that, the one who smoothly descended before Kobō—now leaping back—was none other than Tatsunosuke. “Oh my, what am I to do? I had absolutely no idea… Please forgive me.” “No, I must apologize for startling you.” “But at this hour, what were you doing up there?” “...It’s this.”

Tatsunosuke gave a bitter smile as he held out a ripe persimmon he’d been clutching in one hand. He seemed to have more in the fold of his kimono as well. “Earlier I’d claimed I wasn’t drunk, but it seems I’d been terribly drunk... Having remembered being told ripe persimmons help sober one up, I sneaked out here—that’s the situation.” “Oh, in that case, you should have told me.” “No, I wanted to pick them myself… It’s been so long since I last climbed this tree.”

“Is it not dangerous to climb so intoxicated? What would you do if you were to fall?” “Ha ha ha”

Tatsunosuke laughed quietly. "You scolded me the same way once before—that was surely before my coming of age... When I climbed up to pick them while the fruits were still green, you became terribly angry."

“My, you still remember such a thing.” “Since I’d never been scolded at home, I remember it well… ‘Those who pick unripe fruit shan’t have any even when they’re ripe’—you certainly said that with quite a fearsome look in your eyes, didn’t you?” “But I did give them to you once they ripened.”

“I remember you saying ‘I’ll let it pass just this once’ while glaring at me with those stern eyes.” “...Ever since then, whenever I hold a persimmon and gaze at it intently, I feel as though you’re somewhere murmuring ‘I’ll forgive you.’”

“Hohohoho.” Kobō laughed sweetly. “How embarrassing, for I was quite the tomboy back then.” “I doubt I’ll forget tonight’s naginata incident anytime soon.” “Please forgive me.” Hyōma cut off Kobō’s voice,

“Who’s there? Identify yourself!”

From the gap in the open storm shutters, Hyōma shouted. “It’s me… Tatsunosuke.” “Oh, it’s you, Makino? What are you doing out here at this hour?” “What? I was just picking persimmons.” Tatsunosuke turned back toward Kobō; she shrugged her shoulders and laughed softly. Hyōma, perhaps still half-asleep, continued shouting something in apparent bewilderment.

III “What’s wrong? Have you recovered?” “Yeah, well…” “Heh heh… You’re looking pale.”

The next day, after entering the castle, Hyōma did not see Tatsunosuke’s face until past noon, finally encountering him at the resting area shortly before leaving. ...Indeed, he had a pallid, leaden expression.

“Well, I just drank a bit too much.”

“Last night went remarkably well, so I thought you might have something else to discuss and we’d drink to lift our spirits again.”

“Yeah, I did have something to discuss, but…” “So there is something.”

Hyōma smiled and,

“Then how about this—why don’t you stop by my house again tonight? If there’s something we need to discuss, I’d rather have it settled sooner. I’ll wait if you’re coming.” “Because whenever I come over, it’s straight to drinking.” “Then let’s skip the sake. Last night’s meal she prepared specially went to waste, and Kobō was moping about it. Tonight we’ll just have dinner.” “Because that won’t work out.” “Don’t be ridiculous—I don’t do that every night either. Well then, I’ll be waiting.”

Tatsunosuke thought for a moment but

“Then I’ll stop by. However, my official duties are rather piled up today, so I may be late leaving.”

“Fine, but you’d better come without eating dinner—I’ll have everything prepared and waiting.”

With those words, they parted.

With this, the matter would finally be settled. Hyōma thought this and felt his heart grow lighter. He had waited so long for Tatsunosuke to propose to his sister. The Makino family held senior retainer status with 870 koku, while the Hayakawa family were mounted guards of around 300 koku—their lineages differed considerably in prestige. Yet their fathers’ friendship had carried over unchanged to them, and from early childhood they had interacted almost like relatives.

Though Hyōma was two years his senior, he had deeply admired Tatsunosuke since their youth and firmly believed he alone was destined to become a future chief retainer. And before he knew it, that trust had come to link Tatsunosuke and his sister together in his mind... Hyōma loved his sister—a sister he cherished, to use his characteristic exaggeration, like a "jewel." If it was for Kobō’s happiness— He habitually declared he could do anything. Given such a sister, it was only natural that he would consider having Tatsunosuke marry her. …Moreover, he had once seen love for his sister shining vividly in Tatsunosuke’s eyes.

Good, Makino will definitely propose.

Hyōma had settled on that course.

“Kobō, we’re having a guest again tonight!”

The moment he returned home, Hyōma declared in an energetic voice.

“But no sake tonight—we’ll just have a meal, so prepare plenty of good food.” “Who might be coming?” “It’s Makino.”

Hyōma discarded his hakama while declaring, “He did have something to discuss after all—seems he drank too much and lost his chance. Turns out he’s more timid than you’d expect.” “Then I shall hasten the preparations.” “We ought to freshen up the guest room—Makino likes flowers, so arrange some blooms. Lighting incense would do well too. And… though we’re omitting sake, we can’t have none at all.” “I will not permit it.” Kobō cut in reprovingly.

“Once you take a cup, Elder Brother, there’s no stopping you. Not a drop tonight—it would only trouble Lord Makino.”

“Fine—favor Makino all you want. It’s not like…” Hyōma began—then shuddered and shook his head. “Very well—I’ll leave it to you.”

“In return, I will prepare an abundant feast.”

Kobō stood up and left briskly.

Being the day after last night’s events, what matter Tatsunosuke would broach was something she had naturally discerned. ……At last, her fate would be decided. Kobō felt her chest tremble with shame as she arranged a single white chrysanthemum—Tatsunosuke’s favorite—amidst the miscanthus grass. Into the pillar-mounted flute holder, she inserted an akebia vine. And as the incense fragrance had gently permeated the guest room’s air, by the time Tatsunosuke arrived, she had finished applying light makeup with heartfelt care.

Four “You must be hungry. Well, sit down.” “Somehow... I still feel the drink lingering.” “That’ll clear up once you eat.”

Hyōma boldly took his seat.

“Let’s have the meal first.”

“Hmm… That’s fine too.” “The meal comes first—I can’t wait any longer. Hey Kobō, bring it here at once.”

Tatsunosuke also finally took his seat. Kobō, ashamed of having her made-up face seen, began carrying the meal trays while keeping her gaze lowered. ……Tatsunosuke’s eyes clearly showed a look of surprise at Kobō’s beauty, but he immediately averted his gaze as if dazzled.

“What’s wrong? You’re acting strangely stiff tonight.” “That’s not true.” “Come now—Kobō’s prided soup!” “...I’ll partake of the meal.” When Tatsunosuke was about to take his chopsticks, the retainer Yoshijirō hurriedly came and— “I humbly report—an urgent messenger has arrived from Lord Makino’s residence.” Yoshijirō announced. Tatsunosuke set down his chopsticks and,

“I’ll go at once. …Excuse me for a moment.”

he stood up and left.

Upon hearing of the urgent messenger, Hyōma and Kobō waited with a growing sense of unease. Tatsunosuke returned shortly, but remained standing without resuming his former seat,

“Though this feast was kindly prepared, I no longer have time to partake of it. With this, I must take my leave.” “What’s wrong? What happened?” “An urgent courier from Fukuda—they say my father is critically ill.”

“Eh?”

“What? Lord Yokichiueimon is…” “The messenger’s report says it may already be too late, Lady Kobō… I deeply regret having to leave without partaking of your specially prepared meal, but I beg your forgiveness.” “No—you must go immediately.” “Right—you can eat anytime. Hurry on your way… But take full care on the night roads.” “Thank you. Then… another time.”

Tatsunosuke departed in urgent haste.

Having seen him off to the entrance and returned to their room, the siblings found themselves overwhelmed by an indescribable loneliness before the splendidly arranged meal. “What a mess this has turned into.”

Hyōma gloomily placed his hands on his knees. “If only he makes it.”

“Truly… How long does it take to reach Fukuda by horse?” “Even with changing horses, it’ll likely be tomorrow morning.” Kobō whispered in her heart, ――May you remain safe on your journey. she prayed.

Three days later, there came word from Tatsunosuke. Yokichiueimon had died—though he ultimately hadn’t made it in time for the final moments—it was said to have been a peaceful passing—and that he would remain there to settle affairs and await his father’s successor’s arrival but should be able to return by month’s end, so the letter stated. “He must be utterly heartbroken.”

Kobō could not hold back her tears. “Makino’s a devoted son. It must have been a sudden illness, but to have his father die without being able to tend to him… That must weigh heavy on his heart. One can’t help but sympathize.”

“If we were to send a letter of condolence…”

“Yeah, let’s write. You write too.”

The siblings sent heartfelt words of condolence.

There was no reply. The appointment of Yokichiueimon’s successor remained undecided for over a month, and once it was temporarily settled that Castle Deputy Adjunct Hara Rokurōemon would serve as acting replacement for the time being, Tatsunosuke finally returned to Tsuruoka.

As soon as he returned, a funeral was held.

The funeral was such a grand affair that even their lord sent a mourning envoy, leaving no opportunity for proper conversation for about half a month. Yet even after the twenty-first-day memorial service had concluded and official duties resumed as before, Tatsunosuke showed no sign of visiting the Hayakawa household—for reasons unknown.

Kobō occasionally appeared worried,

“What has become of Lord Makino? Is he still occupied? …Not once has he visited since returning.” “Ah, he’ll come round before long.” Hyōma answered with forced casualness. “I’ve been meeting him at the castle—he’s well. I’ll have another feast made soon and invite him properly.” “That would be most fitting. As the wild geese have begun their passage, I shall prepare ample skewers of your favored kind for the occasion.”

“Right—I’ll go ahead and tell him tomorrow.”

But in truth，even within the castle grounds，Hyōma had not once had the opportunity to meet Tatsunosuke．Moreover，during this time，unpleasant rumors had reached his ears more than once．

They say Makino has brought some strange woman into his household. An utterly unforeseen rumor of this nature had begun circulating.

5

“I came today because there’s something I need to discuss.” “Welcome. …I must apologize again for all the trouble I caused during the funeral.” “Please, this way.”

Tatsunosuke replaced the lamp while ushering Hyōma to the seat of honor.

“Every day I meant to call on you, but with settling Father’s affairs and numerous obligations, I ended up neglecting to pay my respects…” “Enough of this formality between us.”

Hyōma began speaking in a flat tone. “Since I’ve come today to speak with my heart laid bare, you’d best prepare to give me an unreserved reply—understood? …Let me be direct. With your late father’s passing, you’ll soon succeed as head of your household. In light of this—will you take my sister Kobō as your bride?”

“That… Hyōma…” Tatsunosuke gaped in astonishment. Dumbfounded—truly, it was a look that could only be described as dumbfounded.

Hyōma was instead the one left astonished. “Makino—you can’t possibly—” “No, wait—that’s… that’s entirely unforeseen. To take Lady Kobō as your wife—” “Unforeseen?”

Hyōma could not suppress the trembling in his voice. “It’s I who should be calling this unexpected—you and Kobō.” “…No, wait—” “Makino… I was certain of it—I thought you…” “That’s problematic—I had no inkling you harbored such thoughts. While it’s true we’ve been childhood companions and grown as close as kin these past years, I myself have never entertained such sentiments from the start.”

“Then… Then, Makino—” Hyōma instinctively leaned forward.

“What was that about having something important to discuss the other day? What exactly was that talk you mentioned back then?” “No—that’s a different matter.”

“Even if it’s different—let’s hear it anew. Or is it something you can no longer speak of now?” “……I’ll speak.”

Tatsunosuke remained silent for a time, then quietly raised his face and spoke. “The truth is, a troublesome matter arose some time ago, and I had intended to seek your assistance. …But now that you’ve mentioned Lady Kobō, it has become quite difficult to speak of—though what I must tell you is separate from that.”

“Understood.” “You’ll think me absurd—but though it shames me to say—I’ve taken a woman.”

“Makino!” “It was youthful folly—perhaps some demon possessed me. A momentary misstep led me astray, and now it has become an irreparable matter.”

“You have a child?” “He turns three this year… and moreover, it’s a boy.”

Tatsunosuke kept his head bowed, his forehead pale. “If the child hadn’t been born, there might have been a way to resolve this—but now it’s beyond remedy. Given Father’s temperament, and considering what would happen if this were to become public knowledge… I’ve spent these three years treading as if on thin ice. …This is what I meant to discuss—after confessing to you, I hoped you might somehow seek Father’s understanding. Time and again, I tried to speak, but the words caught in my throat.”

“Who is this woman?” “She was a maid who once served in our household.” “With a maid… Makino… You…”

Hyōma stroked his trembling fist,

“I misjudged you, Makino!”

Hyōma said, steeling his voice. “I thought you’d become the future chief retainer—the foremost man in Shōnai Domain! Not just me… Kobō too… We believed it! Now that it’s come to this, I’ll say it—we… both I and Kobō… we kept waiting, thinking you’d propose someday! No—!” “Don’t say anything. Our eyes—my sister’s and mine—must have been clouded to think that way. We were chasing a foolish dream. But… But listen, Makino—a man can kill another without uttering a word—…through his heart… through the look in his eyes—you know that?”

“Forgive me—I…” “I didn’t know.” “That’s right.” “If you say that and consider it settled… But don’t forget there remains one who won’t find resolution.”

“Hyōma…” “You interfered.” Hyōma stood up, his voice trembling. What an unforeseen outcome—……the rumors of him keeping a strange woman were true. During his base affair with that woman, he calmly stole the siblings’ goodwill.

Those eyes—those eyes! The eyes Tatsunosuke had when looking at my sister—are you claiming what shone within them wasn’t love? —I’d misjudged him.

Hyōma involuntarily groaned.

Six

Even after returning home, he avoided being in front of his sister and shut himself away in the living room. ……He had mentioned visiting Makino tonight—and understood all too painfully how Kobō wanted to know how things had gone.

But can I say it? Can I speak of this?

Hyōma even felt like laughing. He wanted to laugh with all his might at his own foolish honesty—that clown-like denseness—with which he’d single-mindedly believed in Tatsunosuke.

Kobō asked nothing.

This was not her usual stance of not inquiring about what wasn’t spoken—her keen maidenly intuition had discerned the outcome of matters from her brother’s expression. Of course she didn’t understand the reason—but it was certain that what she had been waiting for had come to naught.

Hyōma had grown utterly silent; he no longer drank sake. Kobō, on the contrary, as if finding it unbearable to watch, “Won’t you have some sake tonight? I’ve bought what looks to be a delicious thrush dish, but… with you being so despondent, it feels rather lonely.”

Even when she spoke in her brightest tone, “No more sake.” his reply remained unchanged each time. Hyōma repeatedly told himself this situation couldn’t persist—that he must explain matters thoroughly and make his sister relinquish her hopes. Yet……whenever he caught sight of Kobō standing alone in the garden, gazing despondently at the persimmon tree’s uppermost branches where a few lingering fruits still clung, he found himself completely incapable of summoning the resolve for such brutality.

On a certain day in the Eleventh Month. Hyōma, while at the outer guard station within the castle grounds, overheard four or five attendants gossiping about Tatsunosuke.

“That’s a drastic demotion.”

“Makino would never have imagined it being Ōtori-dake’s mining office. To think one who had carried the domain’s trust so fully would end up in such trifling matters…” “Ultimately… women are what need keeping in check.” “Getting some woman he hadn’t even formally petitioned to bear him a child, then clumsily registering them as wife and child now—and they say she’s a mere servant… How trifling.” “Had he handled it properly, it would have come to nothing.”

“A genius can be idiotically upright, you know.”

Even Hyōma was shocked. Tatsunosuke was demoted to Ōtori-dake. Ōtori-dake was a silver mine located on the border between Uzen and Echigo provinces, managed by the Shōnai Domain under commission from the shogunate. Those assigned to its office were commonly regarded as either decrepit or incompetent. “After all, Chief Retainer Okajima was the first to insist on it—so Makino’s career might as well be over now.” “Thanks to that, there’ll be someone rising to take his place.” “Fortune and misfortune are unfathomable things.”

When he had heard that far, Hyōma stood up with the urge to cover his ears. Chief Retainer Okajima Daigaku was a distant relative of the Makino family and had been Tatsunosuke’s staunchest patron—if even he had taken the lead in advocating for the demotion, then Tatsunosuke’s future might as well have been buried.

But it was something he had brought upon himself.

Hyōma tried not to think anything more of it. —It’s better for Kobō this way. He thought.

Four or five days later, on the evening when he had heard that Tatsunosuke had departed for Ōtori-dake... As Hyōma returned from the castle, Kobō—as if she had been waiting impatiently—

“…A guest has come.” she whispered.

“A guest, you say? Who is it?”

“It’s a lady. She says she’ll state her business after meeting with you, Elder Brother—she hasn’t deigned to give her name or purpose.” “Who could it be?”

Hyōma entered the guest room in his official attire while feeling suspicious. Facing the lamp sat a woman alone, despondent—perhaps twenty-two or twenty-three years old. Though dressed in samurai-style garments, her figure bore an incongruous quality, and when she darted a glance up at Hyōma, her eyes trembled like those of a frightened creature.

“I am Hayakawa Hyōma. You’ve been kept waiting.” “…I called while you were away.” “Do you have business with me?”

“Yes… there is something I must by all means convey.” The woman said while neatly arranging her plump fingers atop her healthy-looking round knees. “Let me inquire—what is this matter?” “Regarding Lord Makino’s young lord…” “……Did something happen to Makino?” “I had not the slightest idea.”

With that, the woman suddenly covered her eyes. A sob—raw and convulsive—surged up.

“My name is Koto.” … “It seems the Young Lord has declared me to be his wife.” “It seems he reported the child I bore to the authorities as his own.” “…It’s a lie. All of it is a lie.”

VII

Hyōma’s face changed color. “What do you mean by ‘lie’? What exactly is a lie?” “I was the late Master’s concubine. The child I bore is the Master’s own blood.” “What... what... That’s—” “The most conclusive proof lies here—please examine this.”

The woman said this and took out a single document from her pocket. …Hyōma snatched it up to look—the document was addressed to Tatsunosuke, and on its back was imprinted a single character: “Father.”

When he took out and read it with its seal already broken, Esteemed Son... Based on the physician’s prognosis that I am unlikely to survive much longer, I hereby hasten to set down these final words. Over ten years had passed since your mother’s death. During that time, though there were those who repeatedly urged me to take a new wife, I found it difficult to forget my departed spouse and steadfastly maintained my virtue, clinging solely to the hope of your coming of age. ...Yet there is nothing more prone to error than the human condition. Not long after my appointment as Castle Deputy of Fukuda five years prior, through a momentary lapse in resolve, I became involved with the maid Koto. This indiscretion—that I must inform you, in your youth, of such matters—brings me neither shame nor remorse sufficient to name; I humbly beseech you to show compassion for this foolish father. Now, what I must convey on my deathbed concerns Koto’s circumstances. I, your father, who in recent years had not been in good health, found some measure of solace in my old age through her devoted care. If you, setting aside the barrier between parent and child, could draw out this father’s sentiments as a pitiable friend, I earnestly beseech you: after my passing, make such arrangements for Koto’s welfare that our family name avoids public disgrace. I entrust this matter wholly to your discretion and humbly implore your utmost consideration. Though I have been insistent, the infant Matsujirō is of your bloodline; as both mother and child are pitiable souls, I earnestly entrust their welfare to you.

Hyōma gaped in blank astonishment, his breath caught.

“I, following the Young Lord’s orders, accompanied him to the residence solely to raise Lord Matsujirō.” Koto said while choking back sobs. “That was all—until today, I knew nothing, and had believed the Young Lord would eventually wed your young lady here… For I had often heard about her from the late Master… But today, upon learning that the Young Lord had reported us as his own wife and child—and that he was departing for some distant mine because of it—I came here without a moment’s delay.”

“Thank you for coming.”

Hyōma rolled up the deathbed letter while putting it away. "Since I knew nothing of these circumstances," he said, "I too spoke rudely to Makino... saying I'd misjudged him... It was I who was utterly blind." "And what of the Young Lord's circumstances?" "I'll go visit the Chief Retainer now. Once we understand the situation, some solution can be found—Kobō." "Yes." "Have the horse readied."

Hyōma stood up, “You must return to the estate without being seen. I shall take charge of Makino’s matters. Do not speak of this to anyone.” “Understood.” Hyōma tucked the deathbed letter into his pocket and rushed out to the entrance. The horse stood ready; grabbing the whip, he vaulted into the saddle.

“Kobō… That’s good, isn’t it?” “I will visit Chief Retainer Okajima,” he said in a low voice. “Depending on how matters unfold, I may have to pursue Makino’s trail. I entrust household affairs to you.” “Yes.” “Oh… Elder Brother.”

Hyōma was already urging his horse onward.

VIII

Having finished reading the deathbed letter, Okajima Daigaku remained silent for a while, glaring into empty space. His silver temples trembled faintly—in his pursed lips, in his wrinkled ruddy face, in the motion of his fist extended over the brazier… The marks of profound emotion that had struck the old man’s heart were etched there with unmistakable clarity. “Have you come to understand now?”

Hyōma, still catching his breath,

“There was no fault on Makino’s part.”

“……”

“It’s not merely an absence of fault—he’s striving to bury his own name for his father’s sake.” “…Lord Yokichiueimon’s act of showing compassion toward the woman was a common enough occurrence in society—hardly a transgression warranting condemnation at full volume.”

“……” “However, given Lord Yokichiueimon’s character—he who felt profound shame over all of it—though of course that shame stemmed from concern for his reputation—he truly held an untainted, singular affection for Koto… I believe this is clearly expressed in the deathbed letter.”

“So,… what are you proposing?” “Please rescind Makino’s demotion.”

“…………”

Okajima Daigaku glared sharply, his eyes glinting.

“If you understand the circumstances, there is no reason to demote Makino. To send a man of his caliber to the mining office would be a loss for our clan.” “…Do you think Tatsunosuke will return?”

Though the voice was quiet, Hyōma drew breath as though struck in the chest. …Daigaku said in a low voice, rubbing his hands over the brazier. “To recall Tatsunosuke, we must lay bare every detail… Are you prepared for that?”

“There must be something—some way—” “There isn’t. If you have one, state it.”

Hyōma bit his lip hard. Daigaku gave a light cough,

“For someone of Makino’s standing, having a concubine or two.” “It’s true that fathering a child wasn’t something to be so deeply ashamed of—yet he felt shame over it. Yokichiueimon was that sort of man.” “But he couldn’t have intended to conceal it at the cost of crushing Tatsunosuke’s future.” “That may be so. But Tatsunosuke himself desired this. If he were the sort to return now when recalled, he would have devised a method beforehand… He acted thus because he deemed it the optimal course.”

“Then—are you ordering us to stay silent and watch this unfold?”

Hyōma grabbed his hakama and said. “Do you intend to leave a man of his caliber abandoned to suffer under false accusations? Even though you fully understand the circumstances, are you ordering this, Chief Retainer?” “Do you consider it disgraceful, Hyōma? The circumstances—you know them, I know them, and likely your sister knows them as well—” “Ha…” “When the time comes, a jewel will shine of its own accord.” Okajima Daigaku said with a faint smile.

“There is but one thing you must do.” “Ha…”

“Send your sister to Tatsunosuke—Yokichiueimon had wished it too. If you go and lay bare the circumstances, he’ll no longer refuse. But publicly, it must wait several years.” “Chief Retainer—shall we pursue them?” “They’re afoot—likely lodged at the Atsumi inn. If we spur our horses now, we’ll overtake them by dawn.”

Hyōma pressed his hands together with a faint smile. “Would it be permissible if I were to call it your intercession?”

“Let this serve its purpose.” “You honor me deeply. By your leave...”

He stood up as though revived.

This would do. If he apprised the Chief Retainer of the particulars, the hour to overturn his fate would surely arrive. Now that matters stood thus, all urgency lay in overtaking them posthaste and compelling consent for Kobō’s betrothal.

_"Just try refusing."_ That’s when.

Exultantly leading his horse out through the gate, he found Kobō—who had been waiting impatiently—amidst the unexpectedly chilly night wind. “Kobō! What’s the matter?” “……Elder Brother.” Kobō came running up. “Are you going after Lord Makino?” “I’m going. I’ll spur through the night roads and settle your matter.”

“Then—this…” Kobō said while presenting the ripe persimmons still on the branch she had been holding. “Please give this to Lord Makino…” “Persimmons—what am I supposed to do with these?”

“If you give them to him, he will understand.” If he saw them, there would be words meant solely for the two of them—deeper than a thousand written characters—and through them, he would surely come to know her heart. “I’ll keep them safe. I’ll deliver them without fail.” “Take care.”

“Wait for the good news. Farewell.”

Hyōma raised his whip.

...Kobō stood in the night wind, listening to the fading sound of hooves, remaining there for what seemed an eternity.