Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

“Hey, Makino. You gonna get up or what?” “Have mercy... I really can’t take any more.” “…Can’t be helped.”

After failing to rouse him, Hyōma turned back.

“Lend me a hand here, Kobō. This one’s not budging no matter what.” “It’s Elder Brother who’s at fault here.” Kobō gave her elder brother a gentle glare. “No matter how much I tried to stop you, you kept insisting on making him drink. Having gotten him this drunk… he must be suffering terribly.” “I didn’t mean to get him this drunk either.” Hyōma deflected his sister’s reproach as he lifted the drunken Tatsunosuke Makino, his voice low.

“Somehow tonight Makino seemed like he wanted to bring up something, so I thought if I got him drunk he’d speak more easily—ended up overdoing it.”

“Did Lord Makino have some matter he wished to discuss?” “It’s not exactly a matter for discussion… but somehow it felt that way… I mean—” Hyōma became strangely tongue-tied. Kobō, startled by this, hurriedly spread out the nightclothes and draped them over Tatsunosuke’s shoulders. “You’ve brought the lamp along, right?”

“Yes.” “Then I’ll carry him over.” Hyōma lifted Tatsunosuke—now changed into nightclothes—and carried him into the adjoining room. After tidying up the drinking party with the maid Kano, Kobō entered the bedroom carrying water to sober him up. In the dim light of the ariake lantern, Tatsunosuke suddenly revealed a smile from beneath the bedding. “I must have caused you great trouble.” “No—if anything—it is we who… Through Elder Brother’s bad habit have caused you such terrible inconvenience.”

“Oh, I’m not really drunk yet.” Tatsunosuke showed a smile while, “If I hadn’t done that, Hyōma would’ve kept making me drink endlessly. I was just pretending to be drunk.” “However, this humble one has also grown stronger thanks to Hyōma.” “Drinking water will ease your discomfort.”

“Thank you, but I’m really not drunk.”

Even as he spoke, Tatsunosuke’s eyes closed naturally, his smile lingering.

For Kobō, who had long been accustomed to caring for her brother, Tatsunosuke’s pallid complexion and the scent of his breath immediately revealed his severe drunkenness. Though he feigned composure, he must have been suffering unbearably. …Kobō rose quietly, fetched a basin lined with paper, and placed it beside his pillow.

Tatsunosuke lay asleep with ragged breathing. Kobō folded Tatsunosuke’s discarded clothes while listening to his breathing for a time, but as he seemed likely to remain asleep, she adjusted the lighting before quietly leaving the room. Seeing her brother already asleep and snoring loudly, even after retreating 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 leaping like living creatures inside her head.

The myriad memories of Tatsunosuke—with whom she had grown as close as with her own brother since childhood—had begun swirling like leaves caught in a vortex within Kobō’s breast, all revolving around a single emotion. It was when she had just been told by Elder Brother’s own lips that Tatsunosuke had seemed to want to say something—this memory surged to the surface of her awareness with a vivid rawness she herself had never anticipated. Elder Brother had also been waiting.

The joy of having clearly understood this truth, and the awareness that Tatsunosuke’s time to propose to her had already arrived—for Kobō in this moment, these coalesced into a profound emotion as if something unimaginable had materialized before her. Tatsunosuke Makino was the son of a senior domain retainer. Yokichi Emon, Tatsunosuke’s father, had been an 870-koku elder councilor with the unyielding character typical of samurai from the Kanei period. Though stern, he commanded deep trust within the clan, having served in pivotal domain governance roles since his youth. He now held station as castle deputy at Fukuda’s new fortress. …Tatsunosuke was their only son—his mother had died ten years prior, and since his father’s departure for Fukuda to assume his post, he had been living in this Tsuruoka castle-town residence with a few servants.

The increasing frequency of his visits to the siblings during this period likely stemmed from the loneliness of his father’s absence, but Kobō’s interpretation of this as a wordless confession was undoubtedly just as natural.

II

Kobō lay awake, turning the same thoughts over in her mind countless times.

The midnight bell tolled.

Having resolved to finally sleep, Kobō rose to visit the privy. As she opened a small window intending to wash her hands and glanced upward, she gasped—there, atop the aged persimmon tree in the front garden, crouched a human figure. Thief!

That was her immediate conviction.

The persimmon tree was a fifty-year-old ancient tree, branching into two trunks nine shaku above the ground, with one bough stretching up to the roof. The suspicious figure pressed itself flat against the large branch and appeared to inch its way toward the roof. They intend to sneak in through the sliding window.

Kobō quietly retreated. Then, after quickly tightening her obi, she took down the naginata that had been mounted on the decorative beam, drew it from its sheath, and quietly stepped out into the garden. ...Being infiltrated by thieves was considered a disgrace for a warrior household; she intended to drive them away with a single show of force without even needing to wake elder brother. Muffling her footsteps, she approached beneath the persimmon tree. The suspicious figure still crouched on the branch; Kobō quietly approached beneath that large bough, holding her naginata at mid-stance while—

“Villain!” she shouted sharply. “Come down! If you don’t submit, I will cut you down!” “Ah,… wait!”

She swiftly swung the naginata once, delivering a warning strike through empty air. ...the person in the tree cried out “Ah!” while—

“Wait! It’s this humble one! You’re in danger, Lady Kobō!” “...Ah!”

With those words, Tatsunosuke—who had leapt back—now descended smoothly before Kobō. “Oh dear, what am I to do? I had no idea… I beg your forgiveness.” “Not at all—it is this humble one who must apologize for startling you.” “But at this hour—what could you possibly be doing?” “……This.” Tatsunosuke forced a bitter smile as he held out a ripe persimmon in one hand. He seemed to have more in his pocket as well. “Earlier I claimed I wasn’t drunk, but in truth it seems I was terribly intoxicated… When I recalled being told ripe persimmons are good for sobering up, that’s why I slipped out here.”

“Well, if that were the case, you should have said a word.” “No—I wanted to pick them myself… It had been so long since I last climbed this tree.” “But isn’t that dangerous when you’re so intoxicated? What would you do if you fell?” “Ha ha ha.” Tatsunosuke laughed lowly. “You scolded me the same way once before—that was surely before my coming-of-age ceremony. When I climbed to pick them while the fruit was still green… you became terribly angry.”

"My, you still remember such a thing." “Since I’m not one to be scolded at home, I remember it well—you certainly said ‘Those who pick green fruit won’t get any even when ripe,’ and gave me those fierce eyes.” "But I offered them to you once they were ripe." “I’ll forgive you just this once—I remember you saying that while glaring at me with those fierce eyes.” “Ever since then, whenever I hold a persimmon, if I stare at it intently, I feel as though you’re somewhere there saying ‘I’ll forgive you.’”

“Hohohoho,” Kobō let out a sweet laugh.

“It is most embarrassing, for I was quite the tomboy.” “Tonight’s naginata won’t be forgotten for some time either, I imagine.”

“Please forgive me, I beg of you.” Cutting her off, “Who’s there? Identify yourself!” Hyōma shouted from the gap in the open storm shutters.

“It’s this humble one… Tatsunosuke.” “Oh, Makino? What are you doing at this hour?” “Well, I was just picking persimmons.” Tatsunosuke turned toward Kobō; Kobō shrugged her shoulders and laughed softly. Hyōma, perhaps still half-asleep, continued shouting something incomprehensible.

III

“So, are you feeling better now?” “Yeah, somehow…”

“Heh heh heh. You’re looking pale.”

The next day, after entering the castle, Hyōma hadn’t seen Tatsunosuke’s face until past noon; he finally encountered him at the rest area shortly before leaving. Sure enough, he wore a pallid, oppressive expression. “Well—I might have overindulged a bit.” “Last night went suspiciously well—I nearly thought you had more to discuss and we’d end up drinking again to steel ourselves.” “There was something I meant to bring up, but—” “So there was.”

Hyōma smiled while, “Then how about this—why don’t you drop by my house again tonight? If there’s something we need to discuss, I’d rather hear it sooner. If you’re coming, I’ll wait.” “Because whenever I come over, it immediately turns to drinking.” “Then let’s skip the alcohol. Last night Kobō was moping about how the meal she’d gone to such trouble to prepare went to waste—tonight we’ll just have rice.” “Because that’s precisely why it won’t do.”

“Don’t be ridiculous—it’s not like I do that every night either. I’ll be waiting.” Tatsunosuke pondered for a moment,

“Then I’ll come by. However, today’s official duties have piled up a bit, so I might be late leaving.” “Of course! But in return, come without eating anything. I’ll have preparations ready and be waiting.” With those words, they parted. With this, the matter would finally be settled. Hyōma felt his heart grow lighter with that thought.

He had waited a long time for when Tatsunosuke would propose to his sister. The Makino family held senior retainer status with 870 koku, while the Hashikawa family were mounted guards of roughly 300 koku—there was considerable disparity in lineage. Yet their fathers’ friendship 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 this man was destined to become a senior statesman.

And that trust had gradually come to link Tatsunosuke and his sister in his mind…… Hyōma loved his sister—precious to him as a jewel, to use his characteristic exaggerated phrasing. If it was for Kobō’s happiness— He was always declaring he’d do whatever it took—it had become something of a catchphrase. Precisely because she was such a sister, it was only natural that he had considered marrying her to Tatsunosuke. …… Moreover, he had once seen unmistakable affection for his sister shining in Tatsunosuke’s eyes.

Good—Makino would definitely propose.

Hyōma had resolved it so. “Kobō, we have a guest again tonight!”

As soon as he returned home, Hyōma said in a lively voice. “But no alcohol—we’ll just have a meal, so prepare a proper feast.” “Who might be coming?”

“It’s Makino.” Hyōma flung off his hakama while, “That guy did have something to talk about after all. Seems he drank too much and lost his chance—turns out he’s more timid than you’d think.”

“In that case, I shall hasten to make preparations.”

“It would be good to decorate the guest room a bit. Since Makino likes flowers, we’ll arrange some. It’d be good to burn some incense too. And… while we’re skipping alcohol, we can’t have none at all.” “That won’t do.” Kobō cut in reproachfully. “Once you take up a cup, Elder Brother, it’s all over—there shall not be a single drop tonight, for Lord Makino would only suffer inconvenience.” “Fine, go ahead and dote on Makino all you want. Not like it matters…”

Hyōma started to say something but shuddered and shook his head. “Fine, I’ll leave it to you.”

“In return, I shall prepare a lavish feast.” Kobō stood up briskly and left. Being the day after last night’s events, what manner of discussion Tatsunosuke might bring was something she had naturally surmised. ……At last, her own fate would be decided. Her chest trembling with almost painful self-consciousness, Kobō arranged a single white chrysanthemum—Tatsunosuke’s favorite—amidst the miscanthus reeds. Into the pillar-mounted flute holder she tucked an akebia vine. By the time Tatsunosuke arrived, the incense fragrance had suffused the guest room’s air with quiet richness, and she had completed applying her light makeup with devoted care.

IV

“You’re hungry. Sit down.” “I still feel the alcohol somehow.” “That’ll fade once you eat.” Hyōma unceremoniously dropped into his seat.

“Let’s have the meal first.” “Hmm… That might be fine.”

“The meal comes first! I can’t wait any longer—hey Kobō, bring it out briskly now!” Tatsunosuke finally took his seat.

Kobō felt ashamed of having her made-up face seen and began carrying the meal trays with her face downcast. ……Tatsunosuke’s eyes clearly showed surprise at Kobō’s beauty, but he immediately averted his gaze as though dazzled. “What’s wrong? You’re acting awfully stiff tonight.” “Not at all.” “Come on—this is Kobō’s pride and joy, her specialty soup.” “...I shall partake gratefully.”

When Tatsunosuke was about to take his chopsticks, the family retainer Yoshijirō hurried over. “I humbly report—an urgent messenger has arrived from Lord Makino’s residence.” he announced. Tatsunosuke set down his chopsticks and, “I’ll be right there. …Forgive my abrupt departure.” he stood up and left. Upon hearing it was an urgent messenger, Hyōma and Kobō waited with a sense of unease. Tatsunosuke returned shortly but remained standing without resuming his former seat,

“Though this feast was kindly prepared, this humble one no longer has time to partake. I must take my leave now.”

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

“An urgent courier on a fast horse from Fukuda—Father lies critically ill, it says.” “Eh?”

“What? Lord Yokichi Emon…” “The messenger says he may already be too late, Lady Kobō… It pains this humble one to depart without tasting your specially prepared meal… Please forgive this discourtesy.” “No—there’s not a moment to lose.” “Right—meals can wait anytime. Make haste… But take full care on the night road.”

“Thank you. Then… another time.” Tatsunosuke left in flustered haste. After seeing him off to the entrance and returning to their original room, the siblings found themselves overcome with indescribable loneliness before the splendidly arranged meal. “What a disaster this is.” Hyōma gloomily placed his hands on his knees. “If only he makes it in time…”

“Truly… How long would it take by horse to reach Fukuda?” “Even with relay horses, it’d be tomorrow morning.” Kobō whispered a prayer in her heart: May he be kept safe on his journey. Three days later came word from Tatsunosuke. Yokichi Emon had died—though he ultimately hadn’t reached the deathbed in time, it was said to have been a peaceful passing—and that he would remain there to settle affairs until his father’s successor arrived, but should return by month’s end.

“You must be utterly disheartened.” Kobō could not suppress her tears. “Makino’s a devoted son. It must’ve been a sudden illness, but for him to die without getting nursed… I can well imagine how much that weighs on him.” “If I may offer a letter of condolence…” “Yeah, let’s write. You write too.” The siblings sent heartfelt words of condolence.

There was no reply. Yokichi Emon’s successor remained undecided for over a month until it was provisionally settled that Hara Rokurōemon, acting castle deputy, would serve as interim proxy—whereupon Tatsunosuke finally returned to Tsuruoka. Immediately upon his return, they held the funeral. The ceremony proved so grand that even their lord dispatched mourning envoys, leaving no chance for proper conversation during those half-month rites. Yet when the three-times-seven-day mourning period concluded and official duties resumed as before, Tatsunosuke showed no sign of visiting the Hashikawa household—for reasons none could discern.

Kobō would occasionally look worried, “I wonder what has become of Lord Makino… Could he still be occupied with matters? …He has not once come to visit since returning.” “Oh, he’ll come around before long.”

Hyōma said, trying his best to sound nonchalant. “I’ve been seeing him at the castle—he’s doing fine. I’ll host another feast soon and invite him properly.” “That would be most splendid. Now that the wild geese have begun to appear, I shall prepare heaps of your favorite skewered delicacies for the feast.” “Right, I should tell him that tomorrow or so.”

But in truth, Hyōma had never once had the opportunity to meet Tatsunosuke even within the castle grounds. Moreover, during this time, unpleasant rumors had reached his ears not just once—it was said Makino had taken some peculiar woman into his household. Such were the unforeseen rumors that had spread.

5

“I’ve come today regarding a matter we need to discuss.” “Welcome… I caused you so much trouble during the funeral arrangements—my deepest apologies.” “Now, this way.”

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

“Every day I intended to visit, but with the affairs following my father’s passing keeping me occupied by countless tasks, I ended up neglecting to pay my respects…”

“Let’s dispense with such formalities between us.” Hyōma began speaking in a flat tone.

“Since I’ve come today to lay my heart bare, you must respond without reservation—understood? …To be direct: with your honorable father’s passing, you’ll soon assume the family headship. In light of this—would you take my sister Kobō as your bride?” “That… Hyōma…” Tatsunosuke stared wide-eyed in stunned silence.

Stunned—... Truly, it was an expression that could be described as nothing other than stunned. Hyōma was conversely surprised.

“Makino—you can’t possibly—” “No—wait, that… That is entirely unforeseen—taking Lady Kobō as my wife.” “You call that unexpected?” Hyōma could not suppress the trembling in his voice. “'Unexpected' is what I should be saying—you when it comes to Kobō.” “No—wait.” “Makino—I had always believed it to be so—I thought you—” “That would be problematic—I had not the slightest inkling you held such thoughts.” “Indeed, you all and this humble one have been childhood acquaintances—particularly these past several years, we have grown as close as kin. However, this humble one never harbored such feelings from the outset.”

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

“What was that about having something important to discuss the other day? What was that matter you spoke of then?” “No—that is a separate matter.” “Even if it’s separate, let us hear it anew—or is it something you can no longer speak of now?”

“……I’ll speak.” Tatsunosuke remained silent for a while, then quietly raised his face and spoke.

“The truth is, a troublesome matter arose some time ago, and I had thought to seek your aid. …But now that you’ve spoken of Lady Kobō, it has become exceedingly difficult to discuss—though this is separate from that matter, I would have you hear it.”

“Understood.” “You will be appalled—though I speak through gritted shame—this humble one has taken a woman.” “Makino!” “It was youthful folly—perhaps a demon’s influence—I stumbled in an unguarded moment, and it became irreparable.” “Did you father a child?”

“He’s three years old this year…and a boy.” Tatsunosuke kept his pallid forehead lowered. “Had it been before the child’s conception—then perhaps some resolution could have been found—but now there’s no undoing it. Given Father’s temperament, and considering what might become of us should this reach public ears… For these three years, this humble one has lived as though treading on thin ice. …The matter I speak of is this: having confessed to you, I had hoped you might somehow seek Father’s understanding—though time and again, the words caught in my throat before I could utter them.”

“Who is this woman?” “She is a maid who previously served in our household.” “To a mere maid… Makino… you…”

Hyōma strokes his trembling fist while—

“I misjudged you, Makino!” he said, his voice thick with suppressed emotion. “I believed you’d become a senior statesman—the foremost man in Shōnai Domain! Not just me—Kobō too… We trusted that! Let me say it now—both Kobō and I waited, believing you’d propose someday! No—” He cut himself off. “Don’t speak. To think that way… it means our eyes had gone blind—we were chasing a fool’s dream. But… Makino… even without words… through your heart… through your gaze… a man can destroy another.”

“Forgive this humble one—”

“I didn’t know.” “That’s right.” “If you say that and be done with it… do not forget there are those who cannot.”

“Hashikawa…” “You interfered.” Hyōma stood up while his voice trembled.

What an unforeseen outcome this was—the rumors of him bringing some strange woman into his life had indeed been true. During his base affair with that woman, he had calmly stolen the siblings' goodwill.

Those eyes—those very eyes. Are you trying to say that what sparkled in those eyes when Tatsunosuke looked at my sister wasn’t love? I misjudged him. Hyōma couldn’t help but groan.

VI

Even after returning home, he avoided his sister’s presence as if fleeing and secluded himself in the living room. He had mentioned visiting Makino tonight; he understood painfully well 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 away with all his might—his own foolish obstinacy in having single-mindedly believed in Tatsunosuke, that clown-like denseness.

Kobō asked nothing. This wasn’t her usual practice of avoiding unspoken matters—the young woman’s acute sensitivity perceived how things had turned out from her brother’s expression. Of course she didn’t understand the reason, but one thing was certain: what she had been waiting for had come to naught. Hyōma grew completely silent; he no longer drank sake. Kobō, for her part, seemed unable to bear watching,

“Will you not partake of sake tonight?” “I’ve bought what looks to be a delicious thrush dish, but… you seem so downcast that it feels rather lonely.” Even though she spoke in as bright a tone as possible,

“I’ll abstain from sake.” His answer remained unchanged each time. Hyōma thought countless times that this state of affairs could not continue—that he must explain the circumstances clearly and make his sister abandon her hopes—but… whenever he happened to see Kobō standing in the garden, gazing forlornly up at the persimmon tree whose branches still clung to lingering fruit, he found himself utterly unable to muster the courage to broach such a cruel topic.

On a certain day in Shimotsuki. Hyōma was at the distant guard post in the castle when he heard four or five attendants gossiping about Tatsunosuke. “That’s a drastic demotion.” “Makino probably never imagined ending up at the Ōtori-dake mine office—for someone who carried so much of the domain’s trust to be reduced to such trifling duties.” “In the end… women should show more restraint.” “To father a child with some woman without formal petition, then file her as his wife now—what clumsy handling. They say she was a servant… How absurd.”

“If he’d handled it discreetly, none of this would’ve happened.” “Geniuses turn out to be damnably upright, you know.” Hyōma was genuinely stunned.

Tatsunosuke was exiled to Ōtori-dake.

Ōtori-dake was a silver mine located on the border between Uzen and Echigo Provinces, managed by the Shōnai Domain on behalf of the shogunate. Those assigned to its office were conventionally deemed either decrepit or incompetent. “After all, Senior Statesman Okajima was the first to insist on it,” said one attendant. “Makino’s life might as well be over for all intents and purposes.” “Thanks to this,” another added, “someone will rise to take his place.” A third concluded, “Fortune and misfortune are unpredictable.”

When he had heard that far, Hyōma stood with a feeling of wanting to cover his ears. Daigaku Okajima, the senior statesman, was a distant relative of the Makino family and had been Tatsunosuke’s most ardent patron, but if this same Okajima now spearheaded the call for exile, Tatsunosuke’s future might as well have been buried outright.

However, it was a matter he had brought upon himself.

Hyōma tried not to think about it any further. "It would be better for Kobō this way," he thought. Four or five days later, on the evening when he learned Tatsunosuke had departed for Ōtori-dake... As Hyōma returned from the castle, Kobō seemed to have been waiting impatiently for him,

“……A guest has arrived.” she whispered.

“A guest? Who?” “It is a woman. She says she will state her purpose only after meeting you, Elder Brother—she has not given her name or business.” “Who could it be?”

Hyōma, while feeling suspicious, entered the guest room still clad in his official attire.

Facing away from the lamp, a woman sat despondently—perhaps twenty-two or twenty-three years old. Though dressed in samurai fashion, her build held something incongruous with the style, and the eyes that briefly glanced up at Hyōma trembled like those of a frightened creature. "I am Hyōma Hashikawa. I have kept you waiting."

“…I have come during your absence.”

“Do you have some business?” “Yes… there is something I must convey.” The woman said while neatly arranging her well-fleshed fingers atop her healthy-looking round knees. “Let me hear it. What matter is this?”

“Regarding Lord Makino’s Young Master.” “…Has something happened to Makino?”

“I had not the slightest idea.”

Having said that, the woman suddenly covered her eyes.……A sob welled up. “I am Koto.”

“……” “The Young Master has been saying… that I am his wife.” “He reported the child I bore to the authorities as his own.” “It’s all lies… every word is false.”

VII Hyōma turned pale. “What do you mean it’s a lie? What part is a lie?” “I was the late Great Master’s concubine. The child I bore is the late Great Master’s offspring.” “Wh-what? That… that’s…” “The most conclusive evidence is this—please look at it.”

The woman said this and took out a single letter from her pocket. When Hyōma snatched it and looked, the address was to Tatsunosuke, and on the back was stamped only the single character “Father.”

He took out the already-opened letter and read it. To my son... As the physician’s diagnosis suggests my remaining time grows short, I hasten to set down these final words. Over ten years have passed since your mother’s death. During that time, there were those who repeatedly urged me to take a new wife, but your father, finding it difficult to forget his departed spouse, steadfastly upheld his chastity with the sole hope of your coming of age. ……Yet nothing is more prone to error than human nature. Not long after assuming the position of Fukuda Castle Deputy five years prior, through an unguarded lapse of resolve, I laid hands upon the maid Koto. This misconduct—to inform you of it in your youth is beyond any expression of shame or contrition—I can only beg your compassionate understanding for this foolish father. Now, what I must leave as my final entreaty concerns Koto’s circumstances. In recent years, this father—whose health has faltered—found what little solace remained in his aged heart through Koto’s devoted care. If you would set aside the barrier between parent and child, and instead draw forth this father’s sentiments as one might a pitiful friend from troubled waters, I humbly beseech you: after my passing, devise arrangements for Koto’s welfare such that our family name avoids public disgrace. To your sole discretion I entrust this matter, earnestly imploring your kind consideration. ……Though these words grow tedious, know that the infant Matsujirō is of your bloodline. As both mother and child are pitiable beings, I earnestly entrust their welfare to your care.

Hyōma stood dumbfounded, his breath catching. “I merely accompanied him to the residence to raise Lord Matsujirō in accordance with the Young Master’s command.”

Koto said while choking back sobs. “That was all there was to it. Until today, I knew nothing—I had believed that in time, the Young Master would wed your Lady here. For I had often heard from the late Great Master about his intentions regarding the Lady. But today… upon learning that the Young Master had registered us as his wife and child—that he would be departing for some distant silver mine because of it—I came here without a moment’s delay.”

“You came.” As Hyōma rolled up and put away the deathbed letter, “Being unaware such circumstances existed—hence my disrespectful words toward Makino… To speak of misjudging him… I myself have been utterly blind.” “And what of the Young Master’s circumstances?” “I will go visit the senior statesman now. Once we understand the full situation, we can find a way… Kobō.” “Yes.” “Have the horse prepared.” Hyōma stood up,

“You must return to the residence without being seen. I will take responsibility for Makino’s affairs. Please refrain from speaking of this to others.” “Understood.” Hyōma placed the deathbed letter in his pocket and rushed out to the entrance. The horse stood ready. Snatching the reins, he vaulted into the saddle— “Kobō… thank goodness.” He said in a low voice, “I will visit Senior Statesman Okajima. Depending on how matters unfold, I may have to pursue Makino. I entrust the household affairs to you.”

“Yes.” “Ah... Elder Brother.” Hyōma was already galloping the horse.

VIII

Having finished reading the deathbed letter, Daigaku Okajima remained silent for a while, staring into space. His silver sideburns trembled faintly—in his tightly pressed lips, in his creased russet face, in the movement of his fist extended over the brazier… The profound emotion that had struck the old man’s heart was unmistakably etched in every line. “Have you come to understand?” Hyōma, still breathing heavily, “There was no fault on Makino’s part.” “…” “Not only was there no fault—he was trying to bury his own name for his father’s sake.” “…Lord Yokichi Emon’s act of showing compassion toward that woman was hardly a transgression worthy of loud condemnation—such instances are commonplace in society.”

“…” “However, given Lord Yokichi Emon’s character—he who felt profound shame over all this—though that shame naturally arose from concern for reputation—toward Koto he maintained an unstained, singular affection… This I believe finds clear expression in the deathbed letter.”

“So… what would you have me do?” “I ask that you revoke Makino’s demotion.”

“……” Okajima’s eyes glinted sharply.

“If you would but understand the circumstances, there remains no reason to demote Makino. To send a man of his caliber to the mining office would be nothing short of a loss for our clan.”

“...Do you think Tatsunosuke will return?” The voice was quiet, but Hyōma drew breath as though struck in the chest. ...Okajima rubbed his hands over the brazier and said in a low voice.

“To recall Tatsunosuke, we must make the details clear… Are you still willing?” “There must be some way—some method—” “There isn’t. If you know of one, speak up.”

Hyōma bit his lip tightly. Okajima cleared his throat lightly before, “For someone of Makino’s standing, having a concubine or two. It is true that siring a child is not so shameful, but he was ashamed of it—Yokichi Emon was that sort of man.” “However, he could not have intended to conceal it at the cost of crushing Tatsunosuke’s future.” “That may well 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 wisest course.”

“So, are you ordering me to stay silent and do nothing?” Hyōma grabbed his hakama and said. “Will you abandon such a man—leave him exposed to false disgrace? Even though you fully understand the circumstances, are you ordering this, Senior Statesman?” “Do you consider it a disgrace, Hyōma?” “...The circumstances—you know them, I know them, and likely your sister knows them as well.” “Ha…” “Jewels will shine of their own accord when the time comes.”

Okajima said with a faint smile. “There is but one thing you must do.” “…Understood.” “Wed your sister to Tatsunosuke. Yokichi Emon also desired it.” “If you go and explain the circumstances, he won’t refuse. However, publicly we must wait several years.” “Senior Statesman, can we catch up?” “They’re on foot—likely staying at Atsumi’s inn. If we gallop now on horseback, we’ll catch up by morning.” Hyōma smiled faintly and pressed his hands to the floor.

“If I may humbly call this intercession, would that be acceptable, Senior Statesman?”

“May it serve you well.”

“I am deeply honored. With your permission.”

He stood up as though resurrected.

This will do. Once I inform the Senior Statesman of the particulars, a time will surely come to reverse his fortunes. Now that things have reached this point, I must catch up as quickly as possible and make him consent to the engagement with Kobō. Just try refusing—

That’s when.

With renewed vigor, as he led his horse through the gate into the unexpectedly chilly night air, he found Kobō waiting restlessly.

“Kobō? What’s wrong?”

“……Elder Brother.”

Kobō hurried over and, “Are you going to pursue Lord Makino?”

“I’m going. I’ll race through the night roads and settle your affair.” “Then take this…” As she spoke, Kobō held out a branch laden with ripe persimmons she had been cradling. “Please give this to Lord Makino…” “Persimmons? What am I to do with these?” “He’ll understand if you present them.” For when he saw them, there would be words meant solely for Lord Tatsunosuke’s heart—deeper than a thousand letters, certain to make him comprehend her own heart.

“I’ll take charge of it—I’ll make sure it reaches him.”

“Please take care.”

“Wait for good news. Farewell.”

Hyōma raised the whip.

...Kobō stood endlessly in the night wind, listening to the fading sound of hoofbeats.