Pathway to Japanese Literature

1

Oono Judayu entered the duty room of the magistrate’s records office.
He remained in sweat-soaked practice attire and sometimes still held a bamboo sword.

“Hey, Tsuchida!” Judayu barked. “Let’s grab a drink on the way home today—head to Masuhira. Yeah?”

Then, after another quarter-hour had passed, he would come again.
He was still in practice attire, his forehead glistening with sweat.

“Let’s skip Masuhira, Tsuchida,” Judayu barked. “That place is too stuffy and no fun—let’s have a drink at Yoshino in Sode-machi instead. Yeah?”

On yet another day, he would come rushing in still in sweat-soaked practice attire.
Still without wiping away the sweat, grabbing his hakama with one hand, his face steaming as if emitting vapor, he panted heavily with ragged breaths.

“Hey, Tsuchida!” Judayu barked. “Aren’t you done yet? Still more work to do?”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou remained silent and slowly gestured toward the desk with his hand.
When work still remained, documents and ledgers were spread across the desk, the inkstone box’s lid lay open, and a brush was gripped in his hand.
If the work was already finished, there were no documents or ledgers there, the inkstone box had its lid closed, and the desk top was neatly organized.

“Alright, come to the training hall,” Judayu pressed upon seeing the tidied desk. “Just come spar with me for a bit—I’m itching something fierce. A single match’s all I need. Come on—hey, hurry it up!”

At that, Tsuchida Shouzaburou stood up and left.
The training hall was located next to the armory in the Third Bailey. Before the scheduled time, disciples would be present, and even after the scheduled time had passed, Deputy Instructor Yasukawa Daizo would be there to assist Tsuchida in donning his practice attire.
Judayu would urge, “Hurry up and get over here!”
Stomping his feet while grumbling things like “How long does this take? Hurry it up already! This is agonizing!”, he remained unable to stay still for even a moment.
Tsuchida had fully put on his gear, but Judayu remained bare-faced and bare-handed.
This was because Judayu would be the one striking, while Tsuchida would only receive.

“Come on!”
Judayu swished his bamboo sword through the air and shouted, “Here I come!”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou took up his bamboo sword in seigan stance.
When disciples remained present, they would line up along the wainscoting to watch; when only Yasukawa remained, he alone sat beneath the altar to observe this training session.
Judayu let out a piercing cry—stepping deep, leaping sideways, then darting swiftly around Tsuchida’s perimeter.
The shriek seemed to split the very air of the training hall; floorboards creaked as though they might splinter beneath the impact.
Against this cacophonous din and Judayu’s whirling motions, Tsuchida maintained his seigan stance—slowly pivoting his torso to keep directly facing his opponent at all times.

During these exchanges, Judayu attempted his “drawing sword” secret technique multiple times—a move of his own devising that none could supposedly counter.
Yet Tsuchida Shouzaburou alone never fell for it—not once had he allowed a strike to land true.

At length Judayu lowered his bamboo sword—drenched in sweat now—shoulders heaving with labored breaths.

“That’s enough for today!” Judayu shouted. “Wait here while I go wash off this sweat.”

When Judayu left, Yasukawa Daizo stood up and came over to assist Tsuchida in removing his practice attire.
When the mask was removed, they saw sweat had also formed on Tsuchida’s face.
“That third drawing sword technique was incredible,” Yasukawa said. “I was certain it would score a point.”

Tsuchida did not say anything.

"I just can’t seem to avoid that technique," Yasukawa said. "I’ve tried devising all sorts of ways, but nothing works."

“You’re just convinced of that,” Tsuchida said quietly. “Our skill is evenly matched.”

“Me?”

Tsuchida smiled wordlessly and gave Yasukawa’s shoulder a gentle tap—then Judayu emerged while fastening his hakama cords, urging them on with “Let’s go! What’s this? You haven’t even wiped your sweat yet? Hurry up!” Scenes like these unfailingly occurred two or three times a month.

Strangely enough, Oono Judayu only became that restless when he was with Tsuchida.
Even under normal circumstances, he was somewhat quick-tempered, but there was no instance where he was as impatient and lacking in restraint as when he was with Tsuchida.
Moreover, Tsuchida Shouzaburou normally spoke more and his actions and demeanor were no different from those around him.
It was only when he was with Judayu that he became utterly silent, his movements turning sluggish as if he were a completely different person.
Moreover, they were said to be so close that “they were never apart except when sleeping,” and excluding the three years Judayu spent training in Nen-ryu in Edo—from around age five until they turned twenty-six—there was not a single day they did not meet.

Tsuchida’s father was named Masahide and served as a Middle Elder with a stipend of over four hundred koku.
Shouzaburou had not yet inherited the family estate but had been appointed acting director of the magistrate’s records office, receiving a stipend of ten koku.
The Nagashima domain yielded thirty-eight thousand koku, and even Oshida Geki, the castle deputy elder, received just over five hundred koku. Thus, Tsuchida’s four hundred koku ranked among the higher stipends.
Shouzaburou was an only son and had one sister, but she died at the age of twelve.
Shouzaburou’s mother, Naoho, was from the Shinoda clan; this Shinoda was a branch family of the castle deputy elder but had become extinct due to lacking an heir.
Oono Judayu served as the chief attendant with a stipend of 130 koku—at twenty-two, he took charge of the kendo training hall, and by twenty-five, he became an instructor.
The previous instructor was named Yanagawa Matazaemon and also taught Nen-ryu; however, his family duty was serving as a castle guard, and around the time he passed forty, he became engrossed in national studies and likely found it bothersome to oversee swordsmanship—so he passed the instructor role to Judayu and retired himself.

Oono and Tsuchida's houses used to be next to each other.
Tsuchida's estate had spacious grounds and large buildings, while Oono's was a modest residence—yet from earliest childhood, the two had been close.
They were the same age and as neighbors constantly visited each other, but they never once quarreled; Judayu, for his part, conducted himself maturely, taking on an elder brotherly role in all matters.
That may have been a manifestation of his character—unbowed by adversity, having inherited the household at sixteen after his father's early death.
Judayu had a mother named Sei and a younger brother named Kamejiro.
As a boy, he carried out his family duties, served his mother, devoted himself to swordsmanship, and even took it upon himself to arrange his younger brother's adoption into the Asama family.
Even during this time, his interactions with Tsuchida continued uninterrupted.
Before Judayu assumed family headship, a fire that broke out in a Yone-cho commoner's residence spread to Bukke-cho, reduced over thirty small residences at Okura no Tsuji to ashes, and finally ceased at the Oono house.
Fortunately, Tsuchida was unharmed, but the small residences were relocated, and Oono was moved to Matobashita.
This place was near the very edge of the samurai district, so to reach Tsuchida's house one had to go around the castle's main gate and proceed as far as the Ninomaru-shita area with the gunpowder storehouse—yet even so, without fail once a day, one of them would visit the other.

In November of the year they turned twenty-six, on a day when snow was falling—just before the time to leave the castle—Judayu came running into the records office as was customary.
Of course, as usual, he was in sweat-drenched practice attire.

“Hey, Tsuchida!” Judayu shouted. “Haven’t you finished yet?”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou waved his hand over the desk.
The area was neatly tidied, and the inkstone box had its lid closed.

“Alright, let’s stop by Yoshino in Sodemachi on the way back!” Judayu shouted. “Let’s have snow-viewing sake—let’s have snow-viewing sake at Yoshino! Got it?”

The surrounding subordinates were smirking and watching from their respective desks.
Judayu dashed out and immediately returned.

“Hey, Tsuchida!” Judayu shouted. “Yoshino’s no good—you can’t see any damn snow there. Let’s go to Masuhira today! I hate the place, but at Masuhira you’ll get a view of the snow. Got it? Masuhira it is!”

Half a period later, the two of them were in Masuhira’s tatami room.
There was a broad view with Tenjin Hill at its back and the Shibano River flowing before it.
The area housed retirement homes of wealthy merchants and villas belonging to the domain’s senior retainers, while Masuhira stood as the sole restaurant there—known for its three renowned sisters and notoriously expensive prices.
The clientele consisted mainly of mid-ranking samurai and above, though well-off merchants did come as well—though when samurai patrons were present, they would politely keep a low profile while eating and drinking. When Shouzaburou and Judayu arrived, the place was still quiet, as it was early.
They piled charcoal fires into two large hand warmers, left the shoji screens wide open, and began drinking while gazing at the snow.
The dishes featured duck in quail bowls as the main course, with three varieties of mushrooms in the sweet stew.
The maid named Owaka, who had initially guided them, remained seated to serve until the second bottle.

“What’s the matter,” Owaka asked Tsuchida, “it’s been quite some time since we last saw you—have you found another fine establishment?”

Tsuchida remained silent.

“We found a good place,” Judayu answered. “One that serves cheaper, tastier food and has pretty women with good service.”

“Huh,” Owaka said with an innocent look, “was there such a place around Sodemachi?”

“What’s this ‘Sodemachi’?”

“Lately, you’ve been frequenting Yoshino all the time, right? But that place is supposed to have just an elderly couple and a young maid.”

Judayu coughed and said, “Yoshino ain’t the only tavern in Sodemachi, you know.”

“In that case, where could it be?”
Owaka tilted her head. “Could it be Kohana? Or Sengoku?”

Two

“What are you counting?” said Omino, the daughter of this house, as she entered.
She was the eldest of three siblings and twenty-two years old.
She was also the tallest, and overall had a calm demeanor. Once, Judayu had asked Tsuchida, “Even among women, does the eldest end up being a simpleton?” Moreover, it was said that her two younger sisters called her “slowpoke” behind her back.
The second daughter was Okinu, the third Oshin.
They were eighteen and seventeen, but they rarely appeared in Judayu’s tatami room.
It was said that Tsuchida Shouzaburou and Oono Judayu were infatuated with their elder sister.

“No way! No way!”
Judayu waved his hand dismissively at Omino. “We’re having snow-viewing sake here—just us two. Tell Owaka to scram too! Don’t you dare butt in.”

“Fine,” Omino said, settling between the men. She grabbed the sake decanter and poured for Tsuchida. “I’m joining your snow-viewing party too. Owaka dear—bring over more sake and the warming setup.”

“We,” Judayu declared with sudden gravity, “have private matters to discuss.”

“Well now! I’ve been waiting over a hundred days for this—here’s one for you.”

“Slow on the uptake, aren’t you.”
Judayu said with deliberate malice as he accepted the poured sake, “I hate you. Tsuchida hates you too. We both hate you!”

“Don’t flatter me so much.”

“Listen up, got it?”

“Won’t you let me pour for you?”
Omino took a sake cup and said, “What beautiful snow.”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou poured sake for Omino.
Judayu glared at Tsuchida and glared at Omino.

She had been involved with both men.
Judayu returned from his Nen-ryu training at twenty-one years old. To celebrate his homecoming, they visited Masuhira for the first time—a modest drinking party served by Omino.
Judayu fell for Omino instantly and began visiting Masuhira religiously.
Though Masuhira’s notoriously high prices prevented daily visits, he made sure to appear at least once every seven days without fail.
Judayu always extended the invitations and footed every bill.
When Tsuchida voiced concern over expenses, Judayu laughed it off—“I’ve got side work”—and came clean.
He’d apparently been giving clandestine kendo lessons to sons from wealthy merchant families and affluent clan households, collecting monthly fees under wraps.
Tsuchida tilted his head skeptically but ultimately accepted this explanation.
Two years later—Judayu noticed Omino’s growing affection for Tsuchida.
Tsuchida too seemed drawn to her; once aware of this dynamic, Judayu observed their increasingly furtive exchanges.
Certain he wasn’t imagining things, he confronted Tsuchida directly.
Tsuchida gaped at him before smiling wryly—the opposite was true.
“I do care for Omino,” he admitted inwardly, “but she’s smitten with you.”
“That’s why I’ve kept my distance,” he told himself.
With no deception apparent between them, they resolved to ask Omino directly.
Her answer—“I like you both equally”—left them no clearer.
“I can’t compare Lord Tsuchida against Master Oono,” she confessed helplessly when pressed further. “I can’t separate you two in my heart.”
“This mess needs sorting,” Judayu declared finally—though with two men and one woman involved—“but there’s no clean solution yet.”
They’d maintain their stalemate until someone’s feelings shifted—or so went his reasoning.
Omino turned nineteen that year—nearing marriageable age where refusals grew difficult—yet despite her “slowpoke” reputation revealed steely resolve beneath soft refusals.

In her heart, she had secretly intended to become either Judayu or Tsuchida's wife, it seemed.
On their part as well—now that the three of them had settled into their feelings—they had thought it would be acceptable to take Omino as a wife. Yet this three-way standoff persisted for three full years, until that spring when Judayu finally lost his temper.

"Could there be a more childish, vulgar, absurd story than this?" he said.
"I'm appalled by myself, Tsuchida, and Omino alike. Let's end this now."

Thus, Judayu and the others came to avoid Masuhira. When they wanted to drink sake, they would mingle with townspeople at casual taverns in places like Sode-machi or Kome-machi, and even when unavoidable clan ceremonies or funerals compelled them to visit Masuhira, they took care to keep their distance from Omino as much as possible—while Omino likewise made no particular effort to approach them either.

“Well then,” she said, “if you have something to discuss, let’s hear it!”
Omino sipped her fifth cup and continued, “It’s not some rebellion plot, is it? After all, I’m just watching the snow.”

“You’re a stubborn one,” Judayu said, looking at Tsuchida. “—I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this. What do you say, Tsuchida? Desk work can be done by anyone. Why don’t you join me here?”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou looked at Judayu and quietly narrowed his eyes.

“That’s right—swordsmanship.”
Judayu took a sip and nodded. “You don’t need to make it your profession. Just come to the training hall once daily for an hour or hour and half—give me practice.”

Tsuchida watched Judayu with narrowed eyes, then shook his head side to side.

“There are thirty-seven men with seats in the training hall,” Judayu continued, “all mediocrities—not one I can entrust my legacy to. No—I know what you’ll say. Don’t mention Yasukawa Daizo. You can’t discern his true capability.”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou looked at Omino.
Omino poured sake into his cup.

“That’s not true,” Tsuchida said in a low voice. “Yasukawa is fine.”

Just as Judayu tried to retort, Owaka entered with her maids carrying square sake barrels, sake flasks, and a brazier fitted with a warming pot, then began noisily preparing the heated sake.
Judayu yelled, “You’re too loud!” Omino took over heating the sake, and Owaka and the others left—but as they exited, Owaka turned back and stuck her tongue out at Judayu.

“Masuhira’s maids are well-trained,” Judayu said. “Close that door.”
Tsuchida tore at the roasted duck with both hands as he ate.

“The esteemed guests are quite well-mannered themselves, aren’t they?” Omino said. “Here, let me pour for you.”

“Think it over carefully, Tsuchida.”
Judayu drank deeply before continuing, “There’s no particular rush. I need you specifically.”

“Don’t you want me?”
Omino sipped sake from her own cup. “I’ve already turned twenty-two, you know.”

“You’ve had too much to drink,” Judayu interrupted.

“I’m drinking today.”
Omino smiled coquettishly, sipping more self-poured sake. “Today I mean to say everything I’ve kept hidden. Let’s speak not as Masuhira’s daughter and customers, but as Lord Tsuchida, Master Oono, and Omino—man and woman facing each other. All right?”

“My mistake, Tsuchida,” Judayu said. “Should’ve picked Yoshino.”

“The first time you two visited was when I was seventeen,” Omino continued. “Then when I turned nineteen, that conversation came up—Master Oono leaned in close and asked, ‘Which of us do you prefer—Tsuchida or me?’”

“What a mess this snow-viewing sake has become,” Judayu said. “Let’s pour drinks.”

“I’m utterly bewildered!”
While accepting a drink from Judayu, Omino pressed on, “You’re always together as a pair—both Lord Tsuchida and Master Oono being such splendid men—yet I’ve never met either of you alone, have I?”

“There’s no need to dig up that matter,” Judayu said. “We discussed it three years back and settled it properly.”

“I’m still unwed. What exactly was settled?”

“The plan was to wait until our feelings changed—all three of us—but the crux remains one thing: who Miss Omi would choose.”

“That’s cowardly!” Omino shot back. “I care for both of you equally—these feelings won’t shift an inch! Shouldn’t this sort of decision fall to you men anyway?”

“I want Miss Omi,” Judayu said seriously. “But I don’t intend to push Tsuchida aside to make her my own.”

“And you?” Omino looked at Tsuchida.

Tsuchida was staring intently at the empty cup.
Judayu and Omino waited for a short while, watching him.

“Hey—” Judayu said, “you’re talking too much, Tsuchida.”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou looked at Judayu, bowed his head sheepishly, and let out a muffled “Uh-huh.” He had been talking nonstop until then but fell silent when cautioned—or so it appeared.

“To put it concisely,” Judayu said, “if I were to summarize for him—Tsuchida’s thoughts align with mine. Meaning he too has no intention of pushing me aside to make Miss Omi his wife.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?”
Omino drank the sake from her cup as if gulping it down and said, “I’m already twenty-two. I’ve turned down every marriage proposal that’s come my way, and at this age, there’s no one left who’d take me as a bride. What in the world am I supposed to do?”

“Well, you see...”
Judayu, visibly cornered, let out a groan before saying, “To put it plainly—you’re Masuhira’s eldest daughter, Miss Omi. That makes you the heir. Won’t you naturally take in a husband someday? Yes.” Emboldened by his own logic, he pressed on: “Don’t waste thought on marrying out. With Masuhira’s fortune and your refined looks, any man coming here as your groom would be as common as Shibano River gravel.”

“Do you two really think I can just be with someone else?”
Omino took a sip from her self-poured cup and looked quizzically at Judayu. “—What do you mean by ‘Shibano River gravel’?”

“It’s nothing. Forget it,” Judayu said, waving his hand. “These kinds of stories are commonplace anyway—not the least bit novel or witty. Today’s for snow-viewing sake. Let’s drop this talk, shall we?”

Three

When they left Masuhira, the outdoors had grown dark.
With no wind blowing, the two men wearing raincoats and conical hats began walking unhindered through the snow.
“That was close,” Judayu said with an amused laugh.
“That Omi girl turned defiant—‘What’ll you do about me?’ she says. Ridiculous! We never made marriage promises—just agreed to wait until our feelings changed.”
“If nothing’s changed even now, the responsibility isn’t ours alone—Miss Omi shares it too.”
“Miss Omi ought to blame herself as well—right?” Judayu added, looking at Tsuchida.

“That may be so,” Tsuchida answered, “but it’s no laughing matter.”

“Stop there,” Judayu interrupted. “You’re talking too much.”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou fell silent.
“It’s no laughing matter,” Judayu said. “This is the third time for us.
“First was Kitazono’s daughter, second was Yasukawa’s sister—do you remember?”
Tsuchida Shouzaburou silently nodded.
The first time was when they were fifteen—before the fire, back when the Oono family home stood at Okurazaka. In the same row house compound lived a storeroom clerk named Kitazono Katsubei, who had a daughter called Kikuno.
He was blessed with three sons and four daughters; Kikuno was the second daughter and sixteen years old.
Judayu was kendo comrades with Katsunojou, Kitazono’s eldest son, and since their homes were close by, he came to like Kikuno.
Although he had known her for some time, as soon as he began to think he liked her, he took Tsuchida Shouzaburou along and introduced him to Kikuno.
A fifteen-year-old boy and a sixteen-year-old girl couldn’t be considered just a year apart; the girl was far more mature in both body and emotions.
Judayu misunderstood that he was being treated like a child and took Tsuchida along in an attempt to counter this, only to discover that Tsuchida had also come to like Kikuno.
Kikuno’s left eye had a slight squint, and when she gazed at someone, it took on a charming, coquettish appearance.
When they spoke about Kikuno, they both realized they had been captivated by that gaze of hers and understood just how fervent each other’s feelings were.
Before long, Tsuchida Shouzaburou stopped visiting Kitazono.
He thought he should withdraw since Judayu had known her longer, but Judayu quickly sensed this and gave up on Kikuno.

“I bear the responsibility of the Oono family,” Judayu said with an air of reasonableness.
“I can’t afford to think about women anymore.”

Yasukawa’s sister was named Shizu.
This was when they were eighteen years old—a period that lasted nearly a year until Oono left for Edo to pursue his training.

Shizu’s elegance was average—a quiet girl with no particular distinguishing features, plump and round-faced—who was fifteen years old.
Because Yasukawa’s mother and Tsuchida’s mother had been friends since their youth, Yasukawa’s mother would often visit, bringing her daughter Shizu along.
Tsuchida Shouzaburou had known Shizu since she was about ten years old, but when feelings of affection awoke within him, he again found himself compelled to have Judayu present.
Half of it may have been wanting to show off Shizu—one could say there was some boasting involved—but Oono Judayu became utterly smitten with her at first glance, and Tsuchida Shouzaburou too sensed Judayu’s infatuation.
Both thought, “Another clash,” yet they were also united in having resolved not to yield this time.

When I turn twenty, I’ll take a wife—since I’m the Oono family head, I need to settle down soon, Judayu thought.

—With my sister dead, I’m the only son now, Tsuchida for his part thought. I have to take a wife soon to put my parents’ minds at ease.

Both of them first tried to grasp her heart.
Whoever could firmly seize Shizu’s feelings would prevail—they believed marriage arrangements would naturally follow afterward—and so they made efforts in their own ways.
Of course, Oono Judayu had his official duties alongside training at the dojo, and Tsuchida Shouzaburou had received orders to serve at the magistrate’s records office, so what counted as “efforts” remained largely subjective; there appeared little concrete achievement in terms of specific actions taken.
During this period, their emotions surged and ebbed countless times.
That is to say—Judayu hoped Tsuchida would quickly capture Shizu’s heart, while Tsuchida Shouzaburou expected the same of Judayu—but when this inverse expectation took hold, they both grew vehement within their hearts: *This time I’ll be the one to take Shizu as my bride*, each fiercely resolved. Such became their pattern.
Thus it was decided that Oono Judayu would depart for Edo to further his training—and with that, Tsuchida too withdrew from Shizu.

"I refuse to take advantage of my friend while he's away," Tsuchida Shouzaburou declared.

At that moment, Oono Judayu and Tsuchida came to blows.
Such clashes had never occurred before or since—it remained their sole physical altercation—but the crux lay with Shizu, as Judayu erupted in fury at what he deemed an insult: Tsuchida's refusal to approach Yasukawa during his absence.
He denounced this as presumptuous arrogance, while Tsuchida—uncharacteristically combative—countered that avoiding Yasukawa was his own prerogative.
The two men—closer than brothers, inseparable as form and shadow—now locked in argument, drawing spectators who watched half-aghast, half-enthralled by this unprecedented rupture.
Judayu flushed crimson as he roared; Tsuchida squared his shoulders and barked retorts, their quarrel persisting through castle dismissal until they exited the main gate.
By then a crowd trailed behind them, and finally they grappled bodily.
Judayu lunged first, pinning Tsuchida down—only for Tsuchida to buck him off and reverse their positions.

“How’s that?” Tsuchida said.

“Wait a moment,” Judayu said.

“Wait”? What’s that supposed to mean?

“Look around,” Judayu said.
“These people know I and Tsuchida are inseparable friends! Yet they don’t even try to stop our fight—just gawk like it’s some show. How heartless can they be?”

“That’s true,” Tsuchida said, releasing his grip.

“There’s no need to let these heartless bastards watch,” Judayu said as he stood up.
“Let’s take care of these bastards first.”

It goes without saying that the onlookers fled, and their fight came to an end.
Judayu went to Edo, and Tsuchida Shouzaburou distanced himself from Shizu.

“Hey, wait a second.”
Judayu suddenly stopped in the snow. “That reminds me—what ever happened to Yasukawa’s sister?”

“I don’t know. She’s probably married by now with two or three kids.”

“Hmm.” Judayu counted on his fingers and nodded. “That tracks—she’d be about twenty-three now.”

“What became of Kitazono’s daughter?”

“Married off and dead,” Judayu said, resuming his walk. “Can’t recall the husband’s family name, but her first birth went badly—a difficult labor that killed her.”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou gave a slow, silent nod.
Judayu flicked snow from his hat’s brim with a snap of his finger, flapping his raincoat like beating wings to shed the powder. Muttering to himself, he suddenly pivoted right at the crossroads with a brusque, “Right then,” quickening his pace down the branching path.

For five days starting the following day, Judayu did not appear at Tsuchida’s office.
The clerks watched Tsuchida Shouzaburou’s demeanor in secret through gazes tinged with puzzlement and that distracted anticipation which whispers *Something’s about to happen*—so palpable they could scarcely focus on their work.
Supervisor Kaji Soubee seemed to notice on the third day.
Though set apart within the government office complex, when dusk approached on that third day he slid open his partition’s paper door and came to stand by Tsuchida’s desk.

“What’s happened to that stalwart?” the supervisor inquired with a gentle smile. “He hasn’t been seen for two or three days—has something occurred?”

“I know nothing,” Tsuchida answered. “He’s probably busy.”

“There’s no one as boisterous as that man, but it’s strange how his absence makes me worry,” the supervisor said. “I hope he isn’t ill.”

On the fifth day of his continued absence, after finishing work at the office, Tsuchida stopped by the dojo in the Third Bailey.
Judayu was instructing higher-ranking individuals bare-faced and bare-handed.
Not only was his headband soaked with sweat, but his practice attire was drenched as well; yet his training displayed a vigor and intensity unlike anything seen before.
While he was watching from the dojo’s rear entrance, Yasukawa Daizo approached his side and gave a silent nod.

“He seems energetic,” Tsuchida said.

“As you can see.”
Yasukawa gave a wry smile. “He hasn’t rested for over two hours now.”

“Is there some reason?”

“It does appear so.”
Yasukawa hesitated briefly. “I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

“He hasn’t appeared at all these past four or five days—I began to wonder if he’d fallen ill.”

“As you can see, he’s full of energy. Mr. Oono will explain everything himself eventually—there’s absolutely no need to worry,” Yasukawa said, nodding toward the other side. “—He seems to have noticed.”

Judayu came running up, his breath ragged, and shouted, “What’s the matter, Tsuchida? You haven’t shown up at all—did you catch a cold or something?”

Four

At that time, a troublesome incident concerning flood control works had occurred in Nagashima Domain, and a three-year-long investigation was being conducted between the three magistrates—construction, lumber, and finance—and senior officials.
The project—a plan to construct a double sluice gate at the confluence of the Shibano and Kuro Rivers to regulate water flow—had been initiated seven years prior. However, after two failures due to flooding and the discovery of misuse in allocated funds and materials, accountability disputes had grown contentious.

That being said, it was not as though the entire clan had been involved in that dispute. Aside from project personnel, officials conducting investigations, and senior officials, they had lived as usual. The records office to which Tsuchida belonged had seen its administrative work become somewhat complicated due to the nature of their duties, and at times experienced delays in leaving the castle by as much as an hour; however, it naturally had no direct involvement in the investigation itself.

Judayu’s absence persisted for nearly ten more days. Then one day, he suddenly burst in as usual, still in his practice attire.

“Let’s head back together today,” Judayu shouted, wiping sweat from his forehead with one hand. “We’ll have a drink—it’s been a while. Sound good?”

The subordinates stifled laughter, and Supervisor Kaji Soubee slid open the partition door to peer in.

Judayu paid no heed to such things and dashed out, but returned almost immediately.

“Come to the dojo before you leave,” Judayu shouted. “I want you to spar with me—got it?”

Tsuchida responded with his eyes, and Judayu began to dash off—but upon noticing one of the young samurai in the office, he reprimanded him in a voice that reverberated through the room.
“You’ve been slacking off in practice lately! You’ll never improve like that! Why aren’t you coming to the dojo?” he pressed relentlessly.
The young samurai pressed his flushed face so close to the desk it seemed glued there, mumbling some reply under his breath while moving his brush with exaggerated busyness.

“It seems he’s getting rowdy again.”
Supervisor Kaji slid open the partition door wide, came to Tsuchida’s side, and said while surveying the desk, “If you’re going to the dojo, you should wrap things up now. I’ll take whatever you’ve finished.”

“I will submit it now,” Tsuchida answered.

In the dojo, there were only Judayu and Yasukawa; no one else was present.
Beside Judayu lay his gear, and the moment he saw Tsuchida Shouzaburou, he began hurriedly donning his face mask and gauntlets as though he’d been waiting impatiently.

“Today I’ll be on defense,” Judayu said. “Tsuchida, you do the striking.”

Tsuchida looked at Judayu.

“Don’t complain,” Judayu shouted from within his mask. “You’re the one delivering the strikes—no need to hold back. Come at me as if you intend to crush me.”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou had a questioning look in his eyes.

“Don’t complain,” Judayu shouted, taking up a bamboo sword and swinging it through the air. “Now, get ready.”

Tsuchida asked Yasukawa Daizo what had happened while changing into his practice attire.
Yasukawa merely shrugged his shoulders.
Tsuchida entered the dojo, took up his own bamboo sword, and faced him; he then delivered two splendid strikes to Judayu’s face mask and torso.

“Weak! Weak!” Judayu shouted. “Put more strength into it!” Then he barked louder: “Strike me as if I’m your enemy! Come on!”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou delivered a sharp strike to the face mask, and when Judayu blocked it, he returned the bamboo sword and landed a body blow.
Judayu fell and slid twelve feet across the floor while still prone, then shouted “Enough!” and tore off his face mask.
“Brute strength… Useless effort,” Judayu muttered splay-legged as he removed his gauntlets and torso armor.
Yasukawa helped him with the gear, and Judayu swiped a hand across his sweat-drenched forehead.

Half an hour later, Judayu and Tsuchida were walking along the embankment path by the Shibano River.

“I’ll take Shizu of the Yasukawa family as my wife,” Judayu barked. “Any objections?”

Tsuchida narrowed his eyes and looked at Judayu.

“She’s Yasukawa Daizo’s sister—have you forgotten?” Judayu said. “After we talked last time, it weighed on my mind, so I asked Yasukawa about her. Turns out she’s still unmarried and living at home—apparently after her mother passed away, there were no women left to manage the household. She had to act as the household’s mistress instead, which caused her to miss her chance to marry.”

There was a raw, heartfelt emotion in Judayu’s tone.
He visited the Yasukawa household, met with Shizu, and spoke with her.
She confessed that the reason she hadn’t married was not because she had to act as the household’s mistress, but because she couldn’t forget Tsuchida and Judayu—she had resolved not to spend her life with anyone unless it was one of them.
Judayu continued visiting the Yasukawa household, and each time he talked with Shizu.
Yasukawa Daizo was already married and had a two-year-old child.
Shizu was only taking care of her father and younger brother, so as long as she had the opportunity, she was in a position to marry at any time.
As they discussed these circumstances, Shizu’s feelings began to lean toward Judayu, and Judayu gradually made up his mind.

“I may have made the first move, but I don’t consider it cowardly,” Judayu declared in a tone that squared his shoulders. “Every time we met and talked, I always brought you up—I actively tried recommending you instead. But Shizu’s feelings showed no hesitation whatsoever. She said she’d consent to marry me.”

When Judayu stopped walking, Tsuchida Shouzaburou likewise halted his steps.

The darkening sky hung deep blue and high, while beyond the riverbank mottled with lingering snow, the Shibano River flowed with a quiet murmuring sound.

“The details are as I’ve explained,” Judayu said, looking at Tsuchida. “If you have any objections, I’ll hear them now.”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou looked up at the high sky, licking his lips, and remained silent for a while.

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” Judayu barked. “Tsuchida is always too talkative.”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou released a sheepish smile, while Judayu roared “Oo!” and thrust his right fist forcefully into the air.
Young energy overflowed within his body to the point he couldn’t stay still—such was the nature of both his voice and movements.

“It seems it’s gotten a bit colder.”
“It seems it’s gotten a bit colder,” Tsuchida said.
“Wait—there’s more to discuss,” Judayu cut in. “You’re going to Masuhira from now on. Starting today—no, even beyond this—whenever you have time, go drinking there alone. Understood?”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou narrowed his eyes.

“Hey, don’t dwell on rushing ahead earlier.”
Judayu continued as if cutting off whatever Tsuchida might say. “First listen—understand? Do you know why Yasukawa Shizu chose me as her husband?”

Tsuchida remained silent.
Judayu pressed on immediately.

“Here’s why—because I went to Yasukawa’s place alone. It wasn’t planned from the start. After hearing Shizu remained unmarried at home, I wanted to see how she’d changed. If she’d still been beautiful like before, I would’ve invited you—I swear it’s true! That’s honestly what I thought when visiting and talking with Shizu alone. On my way back from that first visit, I noticed something different in her manner—listen well now, this is the vital part.”

“Before, there had been a barrier somewhere,” Judayu said. “In her gaze as she looked at me, in her manner of speech, in the bashful way she composed herself—I felt this frustration like peering through a single sheet of paper.”

“This time it’s completely different,” he continued. “Everything fits perfectly—like rejoining split wood. Our emotions connect without gaps.”

“I wondered if we’d just aged—become adults,” Judayu said, glaring at Tsuchida like an accuser, “or if Shizu’s delayed marriage made her desperate for a man. I considered everything—but no. The issue wasn’t hers alone. My feelings too had changed entirely from before.” His voice hardened. “Why this shift? What transformed us both?—I had to know. So before inviting you, I visited alone—twice, thrice—to uncover why.”

“It’s cold,” Tsuchida said. “It’s gotten completely dark.”

“As we kept meeting alone,” Judayu pressed on undeterred, “I gradually figured it out—what do you think it was? What made Shizu’s feelings and mine click together so perfectly that we decided to marry?”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou silently glared at the sky.

“Here’s why,” Judayu barked. “The reason’s simple—I went alone to see her, not with you, and talked face-to-face with Shizu. To put it bluntly, men and women work one-on-one. And here’s what else I figured out—you and me were always two halves of one thing. If I liked someone, you did too. To keep our friendship true, we wouldn’t court any girl unless we did it together. How stupid! You know what the girls must’ve felt? If we were one entity split in two, they saw us the same way! That’s why someone like Omino at Masuhira couldn’t marry any other man—but couldn’t pick between us either. See now? We took a damn childish, idiotic roundabout path.”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou sneezed, took out kaishi paper, and blew his nose.

“Tsuchida, go to Masuhira alone from now on,” Judayu said. “If you do it one-on-one, Omino’s feelings will settle. Once that’s done, we’ll hold a ceremony together—both of us. Got it?”

Five

In February of the following year, Oono Judayu wed Yasukawa Shizu in a formal ceremony.
Tsuchida Shouzaburou too had found a fiancée; however, with scrutiny over the flood control project nearing conclusion and magistrate office duties overwhelming staff, his nuptials were delayed until September when he could finally hold his own wedding.
His bride proved not to be Omino of Masuhira but Shinohara Shinobu—niece to the castle deputy elder.

“What happened? Oono and Tsuchida—they used to be so close—have become completely distant lately.”

“When lifestyles change, emotions change too. It’s probably because both got married.”

“Exactly—they’ve both become adults. That friendship of theirs wasn’t an adult one. It had continued since their childhood days, never moving past seeing each other as playmates. Now that they’ve both taken wives, they’ve finally become proper adults, I suppose.”

“How fleeting things are.”

The household members exchanged such comments.
Indeed, the two appeared estranged for nearly a year.
Even during that time, Tsuchida would go to the training hall once every three or five days and spar with Judayu for about an hour.
His goal was to keep his body supple—it wasn’t meant as swordsmanship training, and he would stop once he’d worked up a sweat.
Previously, at that point, the arrangement would have been to say, “Let’s go have a drink,” but instead, they simply went straight home—a state of affairs that persisted. In most cases, this would likely follow the natural course of things—for when lifestyles change, human emotions change as well.
One might call it fleeting—and perhaps it was—but for Judayu and Tsuchida, things did not turn out that way.
From around the winter of the year they married, they began imperceptibly to draw close again.
It was unclear when it began—one day, Judayu said, “Let’s have a drink today,” and from then on they drank every five days, then every three days, practiced together, and afterward talked at length in the training hall.
And so, by the time the people around them noticed it, the two had entirely returned to being their former selves.

“You’ve gotten weaker with alcohol,” Judayu said．“Haven’t you already gotten drunk？”

On a late October evening with a fairly strong wind blowing，the two were sitting facing the counter at a shop called Yoshino in an alley called Sodechō．

Across the counter were owner Tomekichi and wife Oise．

Oise was in charge of warming sake，and Tomekichi prepared side dishes．

Since it was still early，there were only two customers，and Tomekichi and his wife，knowing temperaments of both men，endeavored to avoid interfering with their conversation as much as possible．

“If you’re not drunk, then is something worrying you?” Judayu said. “That’s it—there’s something at home that’s bothering you, isn’t there?”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou stared intently at the inside of the cup.

“Stop your useless prattling,” Judayu said again. “You should’ve married Omino. If you’d taken her as your wife, things would’ve worked out—why didn’t you marry her? Huh? What’s the reason?”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou quietly raised his hand and stroked the back of his right ear.
He seemed to be considering how to respond, but eventually tilted his head slightly to the left.

“There’s no reason,” Tsuchida said. “—In other words, since Oono got married, that girl seems to have had a letdown.”

“A letdown, you say?”
Judayu twisted one side of his lips in contempt. “Who uses a word like ‘letdown’ in this situation? Money had been deposited at Masuhira so you could go drink alone—but they sent back every last coin. Which means you never went to Masuhira, did you?”

“I did go,” Tsuchida said, looking at Judayu. “—Why would you think I didn’t?”

“I told you they sent back every last coin.”

“I receive a stipend of ten koku,” Tsuchida said calmly. “I also get a regular allowance from my father. And at Masuhira, they don’t properly charge me.”

“Why don’t they charge you?”

Tsuchida thought for a moment, then said, “—Probably felt a letdown.”

“You’re all talk but don’t know the right words—and this isn’t some trivial ‘letdown’ we’re talking about!”

Then he listed several instances from when Tsuchida was ten or eleven years old—times when he’d similarly spouted nothing but groundless claims—and rebuked, “How you’ve managed to stay employed at the records office is beyond me.”
Before long, Judayu too grew drunk, steering the conversation back to its original course as he pressed again about what unpleasantness might have occurred at home.
Tsuchida Shouzaburou sank into contemplation.
He seemed to reflect—What could have been unpleasant? Had there been something disagreeable at home today?—but no such memory appeared to exist.

“Then I’ll ask,”
Judayu said impatiently, looking at Tsuchida, “Are you getting along with your wife?”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou widened his eyes as if struck by an open-handed blow and stared back at Judayu.
Judayu kept his gaze locked on Tsuchida’s eyes, then allowed a smile to form at his lips.

“Alright, no more of your prattling.”
Judayu said with senior-like authority, “You’ve only been married just over thirty days. I’ve already experienced ten times that—listen here—nearly three hundred days of married life, and there’s never once been an unpleasant incident between me and my wife.”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou drank slowly by himself.
Oise brought two new heated sake flasks and replaced the empty ones in front of the two men.
Judayu poured sake from the new flask and, while observing Tsuchida with a sidelong glance, kept nodding in understanding by himself.

“That’s right, exactly,” Judayu said with a nod. “That point is crucial for making married life work smoothly. As long as there’s no issue there, most grievances and dissatisfactions can be resolved. You haven’t realized that yet, have you?”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou pursed his lips into a round shape and tilted his head as if to say, “It can’t be helped.”

“Don’t worry—I’ll give you proper guidance,” Judayu said, sipping his sake. “I realized it too after getting married in February and starting to share a bedroom with Shizu—we’re talking about me and Tsuchida here—neither of us knew anything about women. We started drinking early, fell for girls here and there, but never had a chance to actually touch a woman. We were utterly clueless. Never been so flustered in my life. Really, truly flustered. Ah…”
Judayu chuckled in his throat, “What a ridiculous story—why the hell didn’t we ever fool around?”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou twitched one shoulder as if perplexed.

“Stop prattling,” Judayu said. “There’s no reason for any of it—it’s not about purity or steadfast principles. In short, we were just inexperienced and lazy in that department—right?”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou considered this and tilted his head as if to say, “Is that so?”

“That’s right—it’s just that simple. Isn’t it obvious?” Judayu said. “Even you must’ve been flustered when you got married. You’re so inflexible—I can practically see how awkward you must’ve been.”

Tsuchida said calmly, “I knew.”

“You knew?” Judayu asked suspiciously. “What did you know?”

“I was taught by a maid,” Tsuchida said slowly, “when I was twelve.”

Judayu’s eyes widened, glaring at Tsuchida with eyeballs that looked ready to pop out.

“A m-maid…?” Judayu stammered. “—You were taught by a maid?!”

“I was twelve years old at the time.”

“Hey, back off a little.”
Judayu grimaced and leaned back. “You—disgusting bastard. This isn’t a joke—twelve years old? Ugh, you’re revolting. Which maid was it? That shrimp called Koso or something?”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou shook his head in denial.

“If not that one, then the fat one?”

“I don’t know.”

“And yet you were taught such things?”

“Let me speak for a moment.”

“Tsuchida talks too much.”

“It wasn’t me,” Tsuchida said. “Just like you, I didn’t know anything. It was Shinobu who knew—when I asked her, she said she’d been taught by a maid at twelve.”

Judayu returned his arched torso to its original position and sipped his sake while glaring at Tsuchida out of the corner of his eye.
Tsuchida Shouzaburou drank by himself with a contrite expression but said nothing.

“If that’s the case, why are you so troubled? Did you have a fight with your wife?” Judayu inquired.

Tsuchida Shouzaburou said, “Nothing,” and twitched one shoulder again.

For Tsuchida Shouzaburou, there were neither unpleasant matters nor things to worry about.
In reality, it was Oono Judayu who at that time harbored great worries—his mood unsettled and irritable.
Fourteen or fifteen days after that day, Judayu was summoned by the inspector and underwent questioning from the investigating officer on multiple occasions.
The reason given was his connections with merchants involved in misconduct during flood control projects, along with timber magistrates and district magistrates, from whom he had received improper money and goods.

VI

Following Judayu, Tsuchida was summoned.
Tsuchida gave testimony, the owner of Masuhira was summoned, and all suspicions against Judayu were completely cleared—the initial suspicion arose when it was discovered that money had been given to Judayu from the main culprits behind misconduct in the flood control project. However, this was payment for Judayu teaching kendo to these children, with the money used separately as income for meals shared with Tsuchida. Masuhira corroborated this account, ultimately resolving the matter without incident.

“You take over the training hall,” Judayu said to Tsuchida after matters were settled. “A man who’s been summoned by the inspector and interrogated can’t teach people kendo. Your skill leaves nothing wanting—I’m begging you to succeed me.”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou did not answer.
Judayu watched Tsuchida’s demeanor for a while. When he turned around with a grin, Tsuchida slowly began to speak: “Long ago, in some domain, there was a certain samurai…”

“I’ve forgotten which domain it was or the samurai’s name,” Tsuchida narrated, “but it’s certain his role was as an accountant. One day, fifty ryō in cash vanished from that office—no one knew how. Suspicion fell on those working there, and a rigorous investigation was conducted. Yet the money never turned up, and it remained unclear whether it had been stolen or simply lost. Such things happen all the time.”

“When it comes to the crucial part—”
Judayu said impatiently, “Tsuchida’s chatter never gets anywhere. What happened next?”

“The matter remained unresolved and was ultimately swept under the rug,” Tsuchida said after taking a sip of sake. “However—after the inconclusive investigation ended, a certain samurai submitted his resignation. Having been subjected to such suspicion and interrogation, he insisted he could no longer remain in his post—that his conscience would not allow it. Unyielding in this stance, he was reluctantly transferred. In other words, his demand was accepted. He was praised as a man of impeccable integrity in his conduct… yet strange rumors soon spread: Why did *he* resign? Many others underwent the same investigation—he wasn’t uniquely suspected. So why did *he* alone leave that office? Did he have something to hide? Was there something so guilt-inducing about remaining there that he couldn’t bear it? These suspicions—far more than any proven responsibility for the fifty ryō—became an indelible stain on his name, working against him.”

“Then what happened?”

“The rumors only spread further,” Tsuchida said with skillful pause, “and there was no way to prove his innocence. That so-and-so samurai—unable to endure it—resigned from the domain. Likely a man lacking patience. After he stepped down, the missing money was discovered. I forget the exact circumstances, but in any case, the fifty ryō turned up intact. Yet no one sympathized with him—nor did anyone declare the suspicions mistaken. To put it succinctly: by clarifying his conduct, he only branded himself unjustly—”

“I’ve heard that story before,” Judayu cut in. “You brought it up to make me keep teaching—but it’s nonsense. A made-up tale.”

“Then I’ll say it outright—this happened in Nagashima domain.”

“What nonsense.”

“Those from older generations would know,” Tsuchida said. “I heard it from my father—it happened during the previous lord’s reign. That samurai’s name was Yano Gorohei.”

Judayu’s mouth gradually opened wide.
Like an unlatched gate swinging open on its own, it grew larger little by little, his lower jaw appearing to sag.

“Yano Gorohei...?” Judayu retorted, gulping saliva. “—That’s Tsuchida’s...”

“Yes,” Tsuchida nodded. “He was my mother’s maternal grandfather. Though she became an adopted daughter of the Shinoda family, she was actually from the Yano line.”

Judayu pursed his lips.
Upon hearing the name Yano Gorohei, he too must have recalled that story.
He sullenly poured himself two drinks.

“You talk too much,” Judayu said with a grimace. “To put it bluntly—you just don’t want to take over as instructor.”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou silently smiled.

“Then you should’ve just said so,” Judayu said. “There was no need to dredge up some parable—if you’d said *no*, I would’ve understood. Honestly, you’re such a nuisance.”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou said nothing.
At that time, the two were drinking at a shop called “Sengoku” in Sodechō, but after leaving there, they went to “Yoshino,” and no sooner had they sat down than Judayu stood up and said, “Let’s go to Masuhira.”
Tsuchida Shouzaburou attempted to object, but Judayu snapped, “Stop blathering!” grabbed Tsuchida’s hand, and pulled him outside.
At Masuhira, Omino appeared to serve them and frequently bantered with Judayu, but Tsuchida merely listened without joining the conversation, eventually lying down with his elbow as a pillow.

Their lives completely returned to normal.
A child was born to Oono Judayu, and Tsuchida Shouzaburou succeeded to the position of Middle Elder upon his father's retirement.
Though he came to concurrently serve as head of the magistrate’s records office, Judayu would still burst in saying things like “Hey, let’s go drinking” or “Spar with me at the training hall,” and if not, Tsuchida would head out himself—but whenever leaving the castle grounds, the two were always together.
Generally such relationships were either disliked or became subjects of ridicule, but in this case they were accepted quite naturally—not only did those within the household view them with goodwill rather than scorn, but they even came to be regarded as something of a local attraction within Nagashima domain.

To give an example, there was a time when orders for Edo duty were issued to Judayu.
As page commander, he should have long since been assigned to Edo service; however, his position as instructor at Seibukan Dojo had kept this deferred.
When deferral became untenable and the orders were to be formally delivered, a notion emerged organically among the elders—that dispatching Judayu to Edo would necessitate sending Tsuchida as well.
Yet with the Middle Elder post at the domain’s heart being immovable, repeated deliberations ultimately resulted in postponing Judayu’s Edo assignment.
This reflected less any particular esteem for their friendship than an unspoken consensus that separating them felt fundamentally “unnatural.”

Tsuchida had a daughter when he was thirty, and around that same time, Omino of Masuhira took a husband.—Tsuchida named the girl Suzu, but Judayu insisted on making Suzu the bride of his own son Kojuro.
There was no particular meaning to it—it was the sort of thing parents everywhere often consider, sometimes coming to fruition and being forgotten as years passed.
But in their case, there was a slight difference.
This lay in it being the first time since their marriages that their families had become a topic of conversation.
They had visited each other’s homes until their boyhood—that is, during the time when Judayu’s house stood next to the Tsuchida family’s at Okurazuji—but after the fire forced Judayu to relocate to Matobashita, such visits grew rare, and following their marriages, they never once called on each other again.
Within castle grounds and outdoors they were constantly together, but their families had absolutely no interaction with each other.
Therefore, Judayu’s frequent insistence that Suzu should become his son’s bride was an unusual occurrence—Tsuchida would look puzzled upon hearing this proposal, while Judayu himself wore an awkward expression immediately after making the claim.

In November of the year the two turned thirty-two, Judayu collapsed after vomiting blood.
While practicing at the training hall, he suddenly staggered, dropped to his knees, and vomited blood.
Upon receiving the news, Tsuchida Shouzaburou immediately ordered a doctor to be summoned but continued handling his duties as before.
After being summoned twice from the training hall and informed that the doctor had arrived on the third attempt, he finally tidied his desk and stood up.

“What’s wrong?”
The subordinates whispered among themselves while watching Tsuchida’s receding back, “Mr. Oono collapsed from vomiting blood—why was he dawdling like that?”

“The official duties weren’t that urgent though.”

“He must have panicked,” one of them said. “Vomiting blood isn’t something ordinary after all.”

When Tsuchida Shouzaburou arrived, Judayu was lying on a futon spread out in the center of the training hall. About three young disciples were wiping the floorboards, while by the pillow sat the physician Katsura Jiseki and Yasukawa Daizo. Ignoring the physician’s admonition of “No talking,” Judayu pursed his lips and said, “You’re late,” then declared that he had matters to discuss with Yasukawa and two others, so everyone should kindly step back.

“We’ll talk later,” Tsuchida gently refused. “If it rains, you use an umbrella; if you fall ill, you must follow the doctor’s orders. You should listen to others’ opinions once in a while.”

“Hmph—‘if it rains’? You talk too much.”
Judayu shook his head as if declaring him beyond help and closed his eyes. “—It’s Tsuchida’s bad habit. You always talk too much.”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou looked at the physician’s face.
Katsura Jiseki replaced the wet hand towel on Judayu’s chest without changing his expression.
Whether this meant the symptoms weren’t mild or that he couldn’t yet determine their severity, in any case, there was no sign of him answering Tsuchida’s gaze.

“When you’re sick, you should at least behave yourself,” Tsuchida said to Judayu. “—Does something hurt?”

“Do not address him,” the physician said.

Judayu muttered “Told you” under his breath, a faint smile forming on his pallid lips.

VII

Judayu spent the night at the training hall and returned home the following afternoon.
Tsuchida Shouzaburou had stayed by his side until morning, but with the physician constantly attending to him and Yasukawa Daizo also present, he had no opportunity to be alone with Judayu.
The physician—knowing their dynamic well—remained constantly vigilant to deny them any chance to speak privately; Tsuchida, as if sensing this intent, kept his gaze averted from Judayu as much as possible. Once dawn broke and he confirmed Judayu had fallen asleep, he entrusted remaining matters to Yasukawa, left the castle, and returned home.

Tsuchida Shouzaburou did not sleep a wink but upon returning home had a bath prepared and washed his body, fixed his hair and shaved his beard as usual before having breakfast with his father. When questioned about the circumstances he explained the situation broadly whereupon his father Shoheibee told him to abstain from attending the castle. His mother too urged him from nearby to rest but he declined citing unavoidable official duties and when the hour came attended the castle and entered his duty room.

“How is Lord Oono?” a subordinate immediately inquired. “Has he recovered already?”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou wrote something on a paper slip called a single-sheet document, stamped his seal on it, and handed it to the subordinate.

“Go to the storehouse and have them bring out this record,” said Tsuchida. “And Nakabayashi—are yesterday’s documents ready yet?”

“It will be ready soon,” Nakabayashi answered.

“Hurry up,” said Tsuchida. “The work hasn’t been progressing well lately. Has the periodic report from the district magistrate arrived yet?”

“It still hasn’t arrived,” another subordinate answered. “Shall I send a reminder?”

“That’s fine for now.”
Tsuchida spread the documents across his desk, opened the inkstone box, and began grinding vermilion ink. “—The district magistrate?”

As the time to leave the castle approached, Yasukawa Daizo came to the duty room and reported that he had escorted Judayu home about half an hour prior.

“What was the illness?”

“They say it’s the stomach,” Yasukawa answered. “It was the first time he vomited blood, but his stomach had ulcerated without anyone noticing—he must have been bleeding internally all along. The doctor said his constitution has completely weakened.”
“Perhaps because we saw him daily, we hadn’t noticed it.”

“It seems his ability to handle alcohol had weakened too,” Tsuchida said, looking at Yasukawa. “I leave the training hall to you.”

“Will you visit on your way back?”

“No,” Tsuchida averted his face. “I’ll leave him be for now.”

Yasukawa Daizo fixedly stared at Tsuchida’s profile but eventually offered a greeting and departed.

On the morning three days later, as Tsuchida Shouzaburou was preparing to attend the castle, a messenger arrived from Judayu’s house and conveyed a request for him to come without fail.
Judayu had vomited blood again and wanted to see Tsuchida; his wife also seemed anxious—so went the report.
With a perplexed look, Tsuchida replied that he had urgent official duties and could not afford to be late for his castle attendance—he would visit when time permitted—then sent the messenger away.—Tsuchida did not go to see Judayu.
Even though there likely wasn’t that much urgent business, he entered the duty room earlier than anyone else every day and stayed behind to work even after the time came to leave the castle.
No further word came from the Oono family after that, but Yasukawa Daizo frequently appeared to relay updates on Judayu’s condition and urged him to visit.

“That’s the plan,” Tsuchida would always answer. “Once my schedule clears up, I’ll visit. I think I’ll have time in four or five days.”

“Do you have any message you’d like me to pass along?”

“Doesn’t seem like there is,” Tsuchida shook his head. “If there were, I’d tell him when we meet.”

However, Tsuchida did not visit the Oono household.

It was said that Judayu’s condition was gradually improving.
The reputation of Tsuchida Shouzaburou within the clan only grew steadily worse.
They had been so close—what could have happened? More intimate than blood siblings, never once having been apart before.
So why wasn’t he visiting during his illness? They said he’d even received word that Judayu wanted to meet—yet despite that, he still hadn’t gone to see him or sent any words of concern.
Even so, were they truly friends? One keeps company in peaceful times but finds no use for the sick, it seemed.
Such criticisms spread widely, and there were even those who would speak pointedly within Tsuchida’s hearing.

“Is there some particular reason?” his wife Shinobu asked one night. “I’ve heard various rumors, and even my parents’ home, the Shinoharas, were concerned.”

Tsuchida remained silent.

“Given how close you were, he must be eagerly awaiting your visit. Please go see him at least once.”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou merely nodded and made no attempt to speak.
Shortly after December began, past ten o’clock at night, Yasukawa Daizo came to visit and reported that Judayu’s condition had taken a sudden turn.
That evening after dinner, he had suffered a violent hemorrhage and had been unconscious for nearly an hour.
In addition to Katsura Jiseki, physician Abe Fuyuu had attended him, and gasping for breath from having run here, [Yasukawa] frantically reported that they stated midnight would likely be the crisis point.

“We can’t rule out an emergency—please come with me.”

“Calm yourself,” Tsuchida said quietly. “Even were I to go now, the doctors wouldn’t permit a meeting. I’ll visit in the morning.”

“But if the worst happens—”

“What could I do?” Tsuchida interrupted and retorted, cutting off Yasukawa’s words. “Two doctors are attending him. If even they can’t save him, there’s nothing I could do by going. Don’t panic.”

“Don’t panic,” Yasukawa said, glaring sharply at Tsuchida’s eyes. “—Can you really say such a thing so calmly, Lord Tsuchida?”

“Let me make this clear,” Tsuchida lowered his voice. “I am not merely Judayu’s friend. I bear the weighty responsibility of Middle Elder and serve concurrently as head of the magistrate’s records office. It is now December, and indispensable official duties have piled up on both fronts. Do not speak of things you do not understand, Yasukawa.”

“I see. So that’s what your friendship amounted to,” Yasukawa said. “—I’ll take my leave.”

Yasukawa turned on his heel and left.

It seemed his father, Masahyoue, had overheard this exchange but said nothing about it. When retiring to his bedroom, he called out from outside Shouzaburou’s sitting room, “It’s started snowing.”
Judayu died past midnight that same night.
Shouzaburou entrusted his father with attending the condolence visit and went to attend at the castle; he also had his father conduct the funeral in his stead.
In early March of the new year, when Judayu’s seventy-fifth-day memorial service was held at Soukouji Temple, Tsuchida went to offer incense for the first time but attempted to leave immediately after a mere formality.

Of course Yasukawa was there—it was all familiar faces—but no one greeted Tsuchida, and they even avoided making eye contact.

Tsuchida, appearing indifferent to such matters, received the sword at the reception and was about to leave when Judayu's wife Shizu came hurrying over with an infant in her arms and called out to him.

“Thank you for coming today,” Shizu said, bowing her head and showing the child she held. “This is Kojuurou.”

“I see. He looks like a sturdy, good child.”
Tsuchida smiled at the infant. “How old are you, boy?”
Kojuurou looked at his mother’s face, then extended one hand and carefully stretched out three fingers.

“Ah, three years old? You’re a clever one.”
Tsuchida gently patted the infant’s shoulder. “Become a fine samurai who won’t lose to your father.”

“Um,” Shizu said, “there’s something I would like to ask.”
“Excuse me, but I have official business to attend to,” Tsuchida interjected. “—Please take care of yourself.”

And, turning his face away, he left the spot.

When word of Judayu’s critical condition reached him, Tsuchida Shouzaburou secluded himself in the Buddhist altar room and spent the night there.
Such rumors spread.

Even after Judayu’s death, he secretly conducted memorial services every seven days.
To ensure none in the household would know, he spent until dawn chanting sutras in the Buddhist altar room.
—Such rumors too came to circulate.
The story had emerged from Shinohara Tanomo—the biological elder brother of Tsuchida’s wife Shinobu—and was said to have been known only by his wife Shinobu.
Yet these rumors served only to amplify resentment toward Tsuchida Shouzaburou, doing nothing to improve his standing.
Then six years passed, and Tsuchida Shouzaburou turned thirty-nine.

In early December of that year, Tsuchida Shouzaburou left the castle slightly earlier than usual, took a detour to visit Soukouji Temple, and paid respects at Oono Judayu’s grave.
Without offering incense, he went empty-handed, pressed his hands together at the grave, then lingered there for a while, gazing around.

Lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed the footsteps approaching through fallen leaves until a whisper-like voice called out. When he turned to look, Oono Shizu stood there. She wore a black formal kimono with a dark blue hood but removed it while greeting him and thanked him for visiting the grave.

Tsuchida inquired how she had been faring; Shizu replied that Kojuurou was growing up healthy. She explained that her elder brother Yasukawa had become his guardian, and since being just the two of them felt lonely, Yasukawa’s youngest brother Ishirou had come to stay with them.

—And with that，the conversation ended.
Tsuchida’s parents were still in good health；a boy had been born to his daughter Suzu，and they had named him Tsurunosuke，who was now three years old.
However，since he was not asked and there was no opportunity to speak，Tsuchida attempted to bid farewell and leave.
Then Shizu，smiling，called him to stop，saying there was just one thing she wanted to ask.

“It has been a full six years since then,” Shizu said. “With the rumors having completely vanished now, surely you could tell me the truth.—From when Oono collapsed until his passing, Lord Tsuchida, you never once came to visit him. Would you kindly explain why you did not call?”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou looked at Shizu’s face.

Eight

Shizu was not smiling.
Her slightly flushed face held a mingling of fear, expectation, and curiosity, yet her effort to conceal these emotions created the impression of a smile.

"It’s a matter of the past, but I don’t want others to know," Tsuchida said quietly, his eyes turned skyward. "Will you keep this secret?"

"Yes," Shizu nodded forcefully.

Tsuchida Shouzaburou scraped aside the fallen leaves scattered on the ground with the tip of his footwear.
In the silent cemetery, the dry sound of fallen leaves brushing against each other could be heard with startling clarity.

“Judayu intended for me to succeed him as the dojo’s head instructor,” Tsuchida began. “—A plan he’d harbored for years, which I dismissed. Yet he persisted tirelessly—pleading with me again and again. Yasukawa Daizo was deputy instructor and fully qualified for the role, but Judayu refused to acknowledge it. Then—he married you. You, Yasukawa’s sister.”

Shizu’s face tightened, her eyes probing as if to uncover what lay beneath Tsuchida’s words, intently watching his expression.

“Judayu had gained more pretexts—that he couldn’t pass his role to his wife’s brother.”

Tsuchida continued in a tone bordering on callousness: “Had I visited him, that matter would surely have come up. Even when he collapsed at the dojo, I took care not to broach the subject. If he had asked me on his deathbed, I couldn’t have refused—and once I made a promise, I couldn’t break it. That wouldn’t do. Given my position as Middle Elder, and considering Yasukawa Daizo’s standing too—it simply wouldn’t do. That’s why I couldn’t visit.”

A forlorn look of disappointment appeared on Shizu’s face.
Tsuchida Shouzaburou promptly acknowledged it but did not change his tone of voice.

“I heard plenty of rumors calling me heartless,” Tsuchida said, slowly waving a hand. “I didn’t mind the gossip—people tire of repeating things once they’ve said their fill. But the pain of being unable to visit… it was unbearable. You understand, don’t you? I was in pain.”

Shizu nodded, but it was a nod devoid of strength or will, her heart seemingly no longer present.
“Is that all?” Shizu asked in a thin voice. “Was there nothing else?”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou remained silent.

“I understand.”
Shizu bowed quietly and said, “Now my feelings can settle. I will never speak of this to others—thank you.”

Tsuchida bowed politely and left the spot.

On his face, in contrast to Shizu’s, a bright and challenging smile appeared.
It was a satisfied smile—as though he had drawn an unseen someone in the sky and thoroughly confounded them.

“Well Judayu, quite a sight, isn’t it?”—As they exited the temple gate, Tsuchida began—“My not visiting was for her sake. You said it once, didn’t you? That when we’re together, we become one. That we always fall for the same girl, and she can’t tell which of us she prefers. Strange—seems impossible, but you and I knew full well it was true.”

“Now that you’re dead, even you must see through it,” Tsuchida continued. “The reason I didn’t marry Omino of Masuhira wasn’t because she lost interest—it was because I lost interest. Unless I was with you, Judayu, not a shred of interest would stir in me. That’s the truth.”

“You’re being too talkative.”

“I won’t have to listen to those complaints anymore—Judayu isn’t of this world anymore.”

―Tsuchida was being too talkative.

"The reason I didn’t visit," Tsuchida said, "was because I didn’t want you on your deathbed to see me standing side by side with her―and I didn’t want her to see you and me together either． It seems trivial now， like a childish worry， but back then it mattered deeply―to you， Shizu-san， and me． Right? The proof was written all over her face just now． You must have seen that look too―the disappointed one when I brought up the matter of succeeding as head instructor．"

―That’s enough already.

“Alright,” Tsuchida said with another smile. “But I’ll have you know—it’s also true that I considered appointing Yasukawa as head instructor. Fine, I’ve been too talkative. I’ll stop here.”

Tsuchida Shouzaburou turned toward Mikura no Tsuji with long, leisurely strides.