Pathway to Japanese Literature

One

A tepid, rain-laden wind was blowing.

This was Suzuka Pass’s back road—commonly called Three Kaya Trees—near the eighth station of the mountain pass, where three enormous kaya trees stood imposingly.

Along the pitch-dark night path, there was a single samurai making his way briskly uphill.
A full six-foot frame, a straight-bladed sword over three feet long at his side, he seemed to be traveling urgently through the night as he hurriedly arrived at Three Kaya Trees.

Then――suddenly, from the nearby grove of mixed trees, fourteen or fifteen rough-looking men came rushing out in disarray,

“Wait, wait! Stop right there, samurai!”

and blocked his path ahead.
The samurai halted his steps.

“What?”

Glancing around, he saw they were all burly men brandishing swords and spears―their identity went without saying.

“Do you have business with me?”

“Old line, but we stopped you ’cause we’ve got business! This here’s Suzuka’s back road―Lord Daijagatake Yamieimon’s domain! Pay your toll to cross the pass: strip bare and hand it all over!”

They barked with menace.

“Who is this Daijagatake?”

The samurai showed no particular sign of surprise.

“You dare cross Suzuka’s back roads without knowing my name? Daijagatake Yamieimon is none other than the bandit lord reigning supreme over Yamashiro, Yamato, Iga, and Ōmi!”

“Bandits?”

The samurai nodded and,

“This is troublesome. I am currently in a hurry on urgent business. Fortunately, I have twenty gold coins—I’ll hand them over, so let me pass.”

Having said that, he took out a gold pouch from his pocket.
Unsettled by the samurai’s unexpected compliance—so at odds with his appearance—Yamieimon hardened his voice and,

“No deal! A muku thrush caught in the net—we pluck it down to the last tail feather! That’s a bandit’s ironclad rule! I’ll let you keep your loincloth, so strip naked! If you start yapping excuses, I’ll just kill you and take it all!”

Yamieimon barked.

“Then let’s do it this way.”

The samurai said without a hint of defiance.

“This one is Tatara Danbee, a retainer of the Tōdō Clan, currently en route to Kyoto on urgent business for my lord. If my garments and sword are taken from me here now, I will be unable to fulfill my duty as his messenger.”
“So here’s a proposal—how about lending me these garments and sword until this one fulfills his duty?”

Daijagatake was somewhat taken aback by the request.

"If I lend them, what’ll you do?"

"On my way back, I’ll stop by and return this to you!"

"Are you offering all those clothes and swords?"

"I’ll give you everything! A samurai doesn’t go back on his word—lend them to me until I return from Kyoto!"

"Amusing!"

Yamieimon let out a dry, rasping laugh.

"I haven’t been in the bandit trade long myself, but this is the first request of its kind! That ‘lend it to me’ line—I like it! Fine—I’ll loan it till you return!"

“Much obliged. Then I leave it to you!”

Having said that, Danbee handed the twenty gold coins to Daijagatake and, without so much as a backward glance, ascended the pass and departed.
After seeing him off, the underling fellows,

“Boss, this fool’s errand ain’t worth our while. That blade at his waist alone would’ve fetched thirty—no, fifty gold pieces easy.”

“Shut yer trap! I’ve staked my honor on that samurai’s pledge! Keep your yap shut and watch how this plays out!”

After rebuking the underlings, Yamieimon returned to the mountain stronghold.

Meanwhile――Danbee hurried up the road to Kyoto, safely completed his lord’s mission, and without sparing a moment to rest his fatigue, immediately set off back.

He reached Suzuka Pass’s back road when the sun still hung high in early afternoon.
Since bandits wouldn’t be patrolling here at this hour, upon arriving near the Three Cryptomeria Trees, he plopped down by the roadside, ate the bento prepared at his last lodging, then stretched out right there and fell into a deep sleep, snoring thunderously.

After all, there had been fatigue from over five days; once he fell asleep, he ended up not even noticing the sun setting. As the moon was about to rise, rustling through the thicket, the bandits from the previous night emerged.

"H-hey, Boss! He's here!"

One of the underlings who had already spotted Danbee barked in a panicked voice.

“I see. Step aside, step aside.”

Yamieimon pushed his underlings aside and stepped forward.
There, lying on the grass with his elbow as a pillow and snoring thunderously in peaceful slumber, was none other than Danbee himself.
Daijagatake, who had been watching his sleeping form for some time, soon—whether moved by some thought—re-adjusted the spear he had been carrying and aimed its tip toward Danbee’s chest,

“Hah!”

he bellowed and charged—in an instant!

“Hah!”

Startled, Danbee evaded while grabbing the spear’s base and pulling—simultaneously drawing his sword with one knee raised.

“What are you doing?!”

Seeing him declare this and drop into an iai stance, Daijagatake Yamieimon released his spear and leapt back over two ken,

“Wait!”

Yamieimon called out.
Seeing this, Danbee—

“What’s this—the bandit lord from last night? A poor joke, Ha ha ha ha!”

He laughed nonchalantly and stood up.

“As per our agreement, I hurried back here. Since the sun was still high, I thought I’d catch a nap while waiting for you—but couldn’t fight the fatigue. Slept like a log! Well then—shall I return the borrowed gear?”

Having said that, he swiftly removed the swords and placed them there, then began taking off his field trousers and undoing his sash.
The underlings standing nearby were astonished at this sight.

“The current match was clearly your loss, Boss—so why is that samurai stripping naked?”

“Why? You fools! This samurai’s got theft insurance—strip off there and he’ll claim three thousand ryō!”

“You’re lying!”

They were clamoring noisily.
Soon, Danbee—now clad only in a loincloth—turned back toward Daijagatake,

“Then I’ll leave them here. Farewell!”

Having said just that, he smiled broadly, crossed his arms, and briskly descended the slope.

Daijagatake Yamieimon, who had been watching closely to ensure Danbee’s actions wouldn’t be exposed, suddenly came to his senses,

“I was wrong!”

He shouted and collapsed there. Tears streamed from his eyes.

“Hey, all of you—gather round!”

He called his underlings together.

"I've quit being a bandit as of this moment! All the spoils we've taken until today are yours—divide them however you like and go wherever you will! But from now on, you must live working honestly under the sun! That's my only request!"

"And what about you, Boss?"

“I intend to chase after that samurai now and serve him—even as a cook or sandal-bearer if he’ll have me! Now, you all—live well and stay healthy!”

Having said what needed to be said, Daijagatake Yamieimon gathered up the clothes and swords discarded there and chased after Danbee, who had just departed, letting his feet carry him away as he ran off.

Over the pass, the moon abruptly appeared.

II

Dandara Danbee!

His real name was Tatara Danbee.
He was a samurai who served the Tōdō Clan and received 150 koku as a horse guard.
The reason he was called “Dandara” stemmed from his tendency to stutter when flustered—particularly when stating his own name, where his tongue would inevitably tangle—

"Ta-ta-ta-tara da-da Danbee"

His name would come out like this, so those with sharp tongues ended up dubbing him “Dandara” and such. He was a master of Niten-ryū, freely wielded a three-shaku-two-sun blade with no curvature, and stood among the foremost martial artists within the domain.

Shortly after returning from serving as a messenger to Kyoto,

“Danbee apparently returned with a bandit in tow.”

“A bear-like man!”

“He’s keeping that bandit at his residence.”

Such rumors spread throughout the household.
Matters reached the point where some even came to his residence demanding to see the rumored bandit.

Needless to say, that referred to none other than Daijagatake Yamieimon—Yakurō—whom Danbee had been compelled to bring back and employ after being insistently entreated during the descent from Suzuka Pass.

Danbee paid no heed to such rumors and was halfheartedly dealing with them when one day, immediately after he went to his duties, an official messenger arrived,

“My lord summons you to the tea room.”

the messenger conveyed.

When he hurried to attend, beside Lord Takatora was Ikeda Shintarō Shōshō Mitsumasa—who had recently been staying as a guest—waiting in attendance. When he approached the veranda and prostrated himself,

“Draw near.”

Summoned thus,

“Though it’s a trivial rumor, since it has reached our ears, we shall inquire—is it true that you encountered bandits at Suzuka Pass during your recent journey to Kyoto?”

“Yes.”

Oh dear—is this about keeping Yakurō at the residence? he wondered.

“And regarding that incident—there’s a rumor that you were stripped naked by bandits. Is this true?”

He was asked.
He thought that rather than hiding it, the matter had come to light—revealing an unexpected predicament—but,

"Hah! I deeply regret that such an unsavory tale has reached your noble ears.
This Danbee was indeed stripped naked on a back road of Suzuka Pass!"

He answered without reservation.
Ikeda Mitsumasa, who had been listening nearby, couldn't help but burst into stifled laughter.
After all, given that Danbee—standing over six feet tall with bulging muscles and every bit the imposing warrior—had reportedly been stripped naked, it was only natural to laugh.

“I find it hard to believe that someone of Tatara’s caliber would simply stumble into an ambush by petty thieves in the wild—there must be circumstances.”

Takatora was displeased.

“There is nothing particularly significant to report, but at that time, I was on my way to Kyoto under your lordship’s orders!”

“Hmm.”

“As I approached the pass, a bandit who called himself Daijagatake Nanigashi and fourteen or fifteen others surrounded me front and back, demanding I strip naked. With my Bizen Osafune three-shaku-two-sun blade at my hip, cutting down thirty or fifty mountain men would’ve been easy—or so I thought! But stepping back, I considered: I was on my lord’s mission as a messenger. If misfortune in battle left me injured, I’d fail my duty—the greatest disloyalty! So first, I offered them the gold I carried and proposed, ‘Lend me my clothes and swords until I complete my mission and return.’ Whether they were men of understanding or not, they agreed to lend them—and let me pass unharmed.”

“Hmm. And then?”

“I went straight to Kyoto to fulfill my duty! Upon returning, I met those bandits again—took off my clothes and swords to hand them over! Though he’s a bandit and I’m a samurai—once I’d promised to lend them, keeping my word regardless of circumstances was only natural! That’s how I ended up naked!”

“Hmm!”
“I see!”

Takatora raised his eyebrows cheerfully—"What do you think of my retainer?"—while shooting repeated glances at Mitsumasa as if demanding an answer.

“I have heard something most gratifying.”

Ikeda Mitsumasa broke the silence.

“Danbee—this is how a samurai’s vow ought to be kept. But—clothes aside, swords are a warrior’s soul. To cast that soul aside so carelessly—how do you explain this?”

Danbee smiled and,

"With all due respect—swords may be purchased with gold, but fulfilling my lord's command cannot be exchanged for gold—thus I deemed it!"

“Understood. But I have one more inquiry.”

Mitsumasa pressed further,

“When you took off your swords and stood there naked—what would you have done if someone had tried to cut you down?”

“Swords are but one aspect of martial arts! Even stripped bare, I remain prepared to fight!”

“You mean to fight unarmed?”

“Hah!”

Without the slightest agitation or a trace of pretense, Danbee spoke his mind as naturally as flowing water, unhesitating. Mitsumasa gazed intently at Danbee’s demeanor.
Ikeda Mitsumasa—who had gathered so many talented men in his household that it was said none could rival his appreciation for contemporary samurai—found himself, as he continued to gaze, seized by an intense desire to have Tatara Danbee.
However, there was no chance such a man would simply be handed over. Mitsumasa racked his brains for a clever scheme—then an idea struck him.

“Then, Danbee—will you show me the extent of your resolve to fight unarmed?”

Mitsumasa leaned forward.

“And… your lordship means?”

“In my service, I have recently retained a martial artist—one Hatakeyama Sōdayū, a powerful man who freely wields a thirty-*kin* iron staff! Have a match with this Sōdayū here and now to demonstrate your skill!”

“Hah!”

Having answered, he peered at Takatora’s face.

“Interesting. I shall watch as well.”

Having been coaxed by this flattery, he gave his consent.
With that matter settled, a messenger rushed off, and soon Hatakeyama Sōdayū made his appearance.

The Kanei era remained a time when barely ten years had passed since the battle smoke over Osaka had cleared. Society’s atmosphere stayed violent—martial arts matches were typically conducted bare-faced and bare-handed with wooden swords, injuries being inevitable. In inter-school duels, real blades were often employed, and it was hardly rare for participants to meet their deaths this way.

Summoned Sōdayū stood over six feet three inches tall, his face and limbs covered in needle-like hair, eyes like a hawk's glaring sharply in all directions as he appeared before the garden, legs planted wide, a large iron staff measuring five feet one inch and weighing thirty-*kin* gripped in his right hand.

They exchanged formal greetings.

Danbee removed the long and short swords from his waist and set them aside. Then, pulling the crotch cord of his hakama trousers high and fastening a tasuki sash across his chest, he stepped forward briskly.

"You—what is your weapon?"

When Sōdayū inquired suspiciously, Mitsumasa—

"No—this one is an unarmed martial artist! As I desire to have you face him without weapons, proceed as you are!"

Mitsumasa called out.

“Then what of this unworthy one?”

“Feel free to use either the iron staff or a sword!”

Danbee answered.

“This is a nuisance.”

Though Sōdayū’s face swelled with indignation, bound by his lord’s command, he had no choice but to swiftly prepare and forcefully heave up that massive iron staff.

“Then I shall face you with this iron staff—but by what means shall the match be decided?”

He asked.
Danbee casually,

“No need for particulars—the winner’s the one who wins!”

Danbee answered.
Sōdayū’s face swelled even more with indignation. He hefted the iron staff high and, without a word, swung it three or five times with a whir—as if declaring, “Witness this!”

“Come, shall we begin?”

“Let’s.”

Danbee stepped back and poised himself, then suddenly pointed at Sōdayū’s feet and sneered,

“Mr. Hatakeyama—the leather strap of your tabi is undone!” he said.
Sōdayū, startled, looked down—in that instant!
Danbee swiftly closed in, his hand reaching for his opponent’s short sword—he yanked it out still sheathed, spun around, and brought it swishing down straight at Sōdayū’s head!
The downward strike came almost simultaneously.
It was a strike that allowed neither retreat nor evasion.

“Ah!”

“Agh!”

As Takatora and Mitsumasa cried out, Hatakeyama Sōdayū vomited copious amounts of blood from his mouth while staggering backward and collapsing—a mortal wound without question.
Seeing this, Takatora raised his voice harshly—

“Danbee—that victory was underhanded!”

As he shouted, Mitsumasa cut him off—

“No—it was not underhanded. When attacked while stripped naked, his swift resolve to counter it—I witnessed this clearly.”
“In the Genpei Uji River Battle, there was the precedent of Sasaki Shirō being first to cross! To win this match through martial precedent is no transgression—admirable indeed, Danbee!”

Mitsumasa exclaimed approvingly.

Of course, Takatora hadn’t truly considered it dishonorable either—having reprimanded Danbee for killing Sōdayū partly to sound out Mitsumasa’s intentions—and now smirked with feigned delight at this response.
Mitsumasa caught this with a sidelong glance and swiftly assumed a decisive stance.

"But a duel is a duel!"

So saying with an air of genuine indignation,

“For me, Sōdayū was an important retainer; having had him struck down, I cannot simply withdraw like this. I must insist on taking Danbee into my custody—what say you?”

“Danbee? —And what do you intend to do?”

“I shall take him back to my residence and execute him as the enemy of my retainer Sōdayū. Debating right and wrong is futile—I insist you hand over Danbee.”

When told this, Takatora stared wide-eyed at Mitsumasa’s face for a moment—then groaned.

“Ugh, damn it—I’ve been outmaneuvered!”

Mitsumasa maintained his composure,

“A sprat for a mackerel, a sprat for a mackerel.”

he muttered.

III

You will be executed upon returning to Tottori Domain. If you have attendants, you may bring them along.

Such was the order—a strange tale indeed, but with matters to weigh, Stutterer Danbee left Tsu together with Mitsumasa, accompanied by Yakurō.

Upon arriving in Tottori, he immediately awaited execution, but it never came to pass; eventually, he was granted a residence,

“As this year coincides with my ancestors’ memorial services, I hereby postpone your execution until next year. Until then, you shall attend to your duties.”

Such an order was issued.

When the new year arrived, it was postponed again due to circumstances, then postponed once more—during which time Takatora passed away in Tsu—until finally four years had passed.
In Kanei 9 (1632 CE), Ikeda Mitsumasa had his fief transferred to Bizen and became the lord of Okayama Castle.

Shortly after moving to Okayama, an order was issued to Danbee:

“By the lord’s will on account of this transfer of fief, you are hereby ordered to newly enter into service with a stipend of two hundred koku!”

Such an order was issued.
Danbee immediately,

“This one never imagined serving two lords! Should there by any chance be no execution, I shall return to Tsu!”

he forcefully rejected.

“However, I received you from Lord Takatora. Even if you speak of returning, with Lord Takatora himself having passed away, what course remains?”

“I will cut my belly before his grave and follow him in death.”

Mitsumasa could do nothing about him.

“Very well, I shall consider it.”

he conceded.

However, after much deliberation on how to somehow keep him within the clan, he summoned a man named Nanbu Hachirōta and commanded, “Find a way.”

This Nanbu Hachirōta was a notoriously obstinate man even within the Ikeda clan—one who deliberately wrestled giant bears during ceremonial hunts, hosted banquets naked in snow-covered courtyards, and when challenged to fast for fourteen days under threat of execution, flawlessly abstained for fifteen days to extract a written apology instead. Through these and countless other eccentric acts, he labored to reinvigorate the household retainers’ morale as it finally began to wane.

“I shall find a way.”

Hachirōta accepted.

After pondering for two or three days, it seemed he had hit upon an idea, for one day he galloped his horse to Danbee’s residence and planted himself at the entrance,

“Hear me! Is there a greedy wretch here called Stutterer Danbee? Nanbu Hachirōta has come to question you—show yourself!” he bellowed.
No sooner had he heard this than Danbee swiftly drew his sword and came out to the entrance.
“I-I-I... refuse!”

Because he was hurrying and began to stutter, Hachirōta cut him off,

“I don’t know whose stray mongrel you are, but it’s absurd that you’ve received a lavish stipend of two hundred koku by exploiting my lord’s favor! I hear your victory over Hatakeyama was won through trickery—no true triumph! Hardly a feat worthy of two hundred koku!”

he continued to berate him unrestrainedly.
Confronted head-on like this, Danbee flared up,
“Shut up, you ox-headed fool!”

Shouting as he descended the entrance platform.

“Y-Y-You b-b-boorish fool, spouting nonsense without knowing the details! The man called Hatakeyama Sōdayū wielded a forty-pound iron staff back then, while I—by Lord Shōshō’s order—was unarmed! It was clear from the start this wasn’t a fair duel! To call two hundred koku a lavish stipend is absurd! If you’re hiring this T-T-Tatara D-D-Danbee, even three hundred or five hundred koku would be cheap!”

“Then are you claiming that your two hundred koku is not a lavish stipend?”

Hachirōta pressed in a confirmatory tone,

“N-N-No need to say—for th-th-this one, two or three hundred koku aren’t worth a drop of eye medicine!”

“Magnificent!”

Hachirōta slapped his knee and exclaimed.

“To think you’d go that far! Among the many modern samurai who only polish their surface appearances, to declare it so plainly marks you as a true warrior! Indeed, two hundred koku is cheap—but Tatara, I hear it said that a samurai dies for those who know his worth. For now, endure it! When the time comes, I’ll put in a word myself!”

Being told this, Danbee jolted to realization.

“N-No—w-wait! I-I have not formally entered service under your domain—that is—”

“This is outrageous! Did you not just declare that two hundred koku is no lavish stipend—not worth a drop of eye medicine? What need has a man who refuses service to debate the amount of his stipend? You said two hundred koku was cheap, but a samurai dies for those who know his worth! When I urged you to endure it for now—for two warriors to have exchanged such clear words, you wouldn’t dare retract them now, would you?”

“Hmm...”

He groaned, but it was too late.
Danbee tried to retort, but his stutter emerged—the interference ensuring he’d inevitably be outmaneuvered—and ground his teeth.

“D-d-don’t you d-d-dare decide on your own! I-I don’t know!”

With that, he went inside.

When the next day came—congratulatory gifts for the new appointment!
With that, congratulatory gifts began arriving one after another from friends; though he tried to refuse them, he found himself unable to decline and ended up accepting. Four or five days later, a summons arrived from the castle.

“Today I’ll settle this decisively!”

When he went out with determination—the moment Mitsumasa saw his face—

“Danbee! I’ve indeed heard from Nanbu Hachirōta of your intent to serve. Apply yourself diligently!”

No sooner had he spoken than he stood up smoothly and retreated into the inner quarters.
There was nothing he could do—if he were to take a stand now and declare "I refuse," it would trample upon Nanbu Hachirōta’s name.

“Damn that Hachirōta!” he muttered while exiting. When he returned home and calmly considered it—having followed Mitsumasa’s will this far and now being so earnestly entreated—this too was a matter of samurai honor: he might as well enter into service! He resolved.

Thus, Tatara Danbee finally came to serve the Ikeda family with a stipend of two hundred koku.

However, the animosity between Danbee and Hachirōta—

“Tomorrow will be clear!”

“No—it must be rain!”

From such trivial matters to discussions of martial arts and deliberations on official duties, whenever their faces met, it was a quarrel.

“I’ll not exchange another word with you!”

“Ooh, this one too shall sever ties!”

Such words were exchanged countless times; those around them initially went to great lengths to mediate and reconcile the pair, but growing utterly exasperated at the endless futility of it all—

“Those two must have been sworn enemies in a past life!”

“It’s like watching dogs and monkeys given human form.”

“Leave them be! Don’t interfere anymore!”

With that, no one paid them any mind anymore.
In the end, the two took advantage of this and continued vying for supremacy just as they always had.

And so several more years passed.

IV

In the spring of Kanei 17 (1640 CE), on the night of the Peach Festival.

There was someone stealthily knocking on the back door of Danbee’s residence.
When Yakurō went out to check, a woman who appeared to be a samurai’s wife—her face concealed—stood holding the hand of a girl around seven years old; but without waiting for the door to fully open, she hurried inside and closed it behind her,

“Give this to Lord Tatara!”

With that, she handed over a letter.

“Who is this from?”

When he asked,

“Please look at this—”

Her wary glances around suggested grave circumstances, so he hurried to bring it to his master’s quarters.
When Danbee received and looked at it, the sender was marked with a single character: ‘Nan’.

“Hmm—”

He broke the seal and read it.

Urgent.
I humbly beseech you to shelter this one’s wife and children for a time.
Due to unavoidable false charges, I shall temporarily withdraw from the domain.
Once the false charges are cleared, I shall return to the domain.
Until then.

From: Nanbu Hachirōta

To: Tatara Danbee

It appeared to be written in great haste, with no time for formalities—a dashed-off letter. Yet the words on the page were steeped in Hachirōta’s desperate plea.

“Summon them at once!”

“Yes, sir!”

Yakurō, who had hurried out, promptly led Hachirōta’s wife and daughter in.

“I apologize for the disturbance at this late hour—”

Cutting off her bow,

“No—stay as you are. I have received the full account in your letter. Though your stay here may prove wanting in comforts, rest assured that while under this roof, you shall be safe. I swear to shelter you without fail!”

Declaring this resolutely, he promptly had a secluded room prepared, strictly forbade Yakurō from speaking of it to others, and concealed the mother and daughter.

The next day, he went up to the castle to inquire about the situation—

On the night of the festival.

At the Kamiizumi villa of Yanagawa Shume, one of the chief retainers, a banquet had been held for the Peach Festival celebration, with twelve or thirteen guests gathered.

Midway through the banquet, a quarrel arose between the host Shume and Nanbu Hachirōta, but with someone intervening to quell it, the matter passed without incident. Eventually concluding at the Hour of the Boar (around 10 PM), the banquet ended and people departed from the Yanagawa residence.

About an hour after the guests had left, one of the retainers casually went to his master’s quarters only to find the entire area in disarray and Shume lying collapsed, covered in blood.
Astonished,

“My lord! My lord!”

When he lifted him up, Shume convulsed violently,
“Ha... Hachirōta!”
After he uttered this, the retainer pressed his ear to [Shume’s] mouth and asked, “The assailant—?”
When he asked this, once again,
“By Hachirōta…”
Having managed to say that much, he slumped down lifelessly.
He hurried out to the front garden to look, but there was no trace of anyone around anymore.
He immediately proceeded to report it.
When people from the main residence rushed over and investigated, they discovered that the single Kiku-ichimonji blade Shume had prized was missing.

“I clearly stated ‘Hachirōta’ twice.”

The retainer repeated his account, but no one could believe that Nanbu was responsible.
However, since there had indeed been a quarrel that night, they decided they should at least question him, and upon sending an envoy, they found Nanbu’s residence empty.

“Hachirōta has fled!”

Upon hearing this report, both those who knew him and those who didn’t gasped in unison.
When this was immediately reported, Mitsumasa—true to his nature as a samurai who regularly attended court—flew into a rage,

“They surely wouldn’t have fled with their family—find them without fail and punish them severely!”

Lord Mitsumasa commanded.
That was all Danbee had heard.
However, Danbee—who firmly believed Hachirōta would never do such a thing—returned home in silence and kept up a facade of ignorance.

That very day, Yanagawa Shume’s son Sanjūrō received official permission for revenge and set out in pursuit of Nanbu Hachirōta.
Meanwhile, the inspectorate, in Mitsumasa’s name,

“Those who are sheltering Nanbu Hachirōta’s family must promptly come forward! Should you fail to do so, you will be severely punished!”

[They] circulated an official proclamation.
They circulated the official proclamation, but no one came forward.
However, there being no evidence that Hachirōta’s wife and children had fled the castle town, the inspectorate finally began inspecting every retainer’s residence one by one.
Of course they came to Tatara’s residence as well, but since the notorious enmity between him and Hachirōta was common knowledge,

“There are none here.”

When he answered thus, that was the end of it.

“Would you care to inspect the premises?”

When he asked, the inspector smirked and,

“No, that won’t be necessary at all.”

With that, he left.

When Yakurō, worried, asked what he would do if this matter were discovered and severe punishment were imposed,

“I am prepared!”

he declared flatly.

In the midst of all this, spring passed and summer arrived.
One day in early June, a messenger from the castle came galloping and conveyed an urgent summons from Mitsumasa.
He headed to the castle without taking anything with him.

“To the lord’s audience hall!”

When he was told this and proceeded there, before his lordship sat none other than Yanagawa Sanjūrō and Nanbu Hachirōta—unexpectedly.

"Hah! What's all this?"

Danbee unconsciously came to a halt, and Mitsumasa smiled.

“Now here’s an interesting tale—I called you here to hear it too. Come closer.”

Danbee was beckoned forward.
When he finished greeting Mitsumasa, Hachirōta—who had been waiting impatiently—lowered both hands and declared:

“You’ve watched over me all this time—I’m in your debt!”

While saying this, his eyes filled with nostalgia, he gazed steadily up at Danbee.

“Think nothing of it—you’ve grown thin.”

Danbee said only that much—but his voice was choked with emotion.
The two men gazed intently into each other’s eyes, and for a time, there were no words.
Witnessing the two men—once so bitterly at odds—now gazing wordlessly at each other like reunited lovers, even Mitsumasa found himself unexpectedly moved to the brink of tears.

“Now, Hachirōta—you shall tell Danbee about that matter.”

At Mitsumasa’s prompting, Hachirōta began recounting the events of that night.

On the night of March 3rd—
After the banquet ended, Nanbu Hachirōta left with three or four companions, but when they reached Gobanchō, he suddenly realized he had forgotten something and turned back alone from there.
As he hurried back—beside the villa—a figure nimbly vaulted over the hedge and slipped out from within the estate.

“Who’s there!”

When he shouted, the figure whirled around and fled, but the face glimpsed beneath the mask was unmistakably that of Kakuchi Hikoroku—a man who had been expelled from the domain half a year prior for misconduct.

“Something’s wrong!”

Thinking this, he entered through the garden and rushed to the veranda of his master’s quarters—there, beyond the opened shoji screens, lay Shume, collapsed.

Startled, he rushed up and lifted him,

“Mr. Yanagawa!”

When he called, Shume raised his head with a ferocious expression of fury, as if groaning—

“Gah, Hachirōta!”

he said.
Having been ambushed, he seemed to have mistaken Hachirōta, whom he now saw, for his assailant.
Surprised Hachirōta,

“No, I just came here—”

Ignoring the attempted speech, he thrashed about desperately.

“Someone—quickly! It’s Hachirōta—!”

He thrashed.

Noticing a blood-stained sword lying nearby, he quickly reached out to look—it was Shume’s blade.
The attacker must have taken advantage of Shume’s carelessness and cut him down with his own blade.

Shume stubbornly persisted in mistakenly believing himself to be the culprit; had the sword at least belonged to the murderer, it might have provided some means to prove his own innocence.
With the evening quarrel and the fact that I alone turned back midway now known, this was an inescapable trap with no means of explanation!
Hachirōta felt this to be the case.

“There’s no choice but to go into hiding for now and track down that bastard Kakuchi Hikoroku I’ve got pegged!”

Having resolved this, he immediately rushed back to his residence, attached a letter entrusting his wife and children to Danbee, and departed the province himself.

And so began three months of arduous wandering.

When he finally located Hikoroku’s whereabouts, he encountered Yanagawa Sanjūrō—who had been scouring the land to exact vengeance upon him—by sheer chance.
As they sat knee-to-knee and pieced together the details, they learned for the first time that Shume’s treasured Kikuichimonji blade had been stolen during the incident.

“That’s precisely the evidence we needed!”

Brimming with excitement, they stormed into Hikoroku’s hideout with Sanjūrō in tow. Just as anticipated, they found him carrying the sword with its fittings altered.
There, under Hachirōta’s vigilant oversight, Sanjūrō struck down Hikoroku in splendid fashion, and together they made their triumphant return home.

“I see. So that’s how it was.”

Having finished listening, Danbee too let out a sigh of relief at the exceedingly bizarre turn of events.

“Danbee!”

Mitsumasa smiled warmly,

“You did well to hide Hachirōta’s family. Had you obediently reported sheltering them as my orders demanded, I would have been compelled to punish you harshly. For this, I thank you—but—”

he continued in a slightly sarcastic tone,

“You, who were always at such bitter odds—why did you persist in hiding them despite fearing no severe punishment?”

Danbee prostrated himself,

“Ah—with all due respect, I regard Hachirōta as my closest friend. However—”

and glanced back at Hachirōta,

“Regarding official duties, we both state our unreserved thoughts without hesitation, so clashes are only natural—but between friends who know each other’s deepest hearts, there should be neither quarrels nor arguments!”

he answered.

“What of Hachirōta?”

Mitsumasa inquired,

"In that critical moment, I entrusted his wife and children with full confidence. I humbly beg your wise discernment in this matter."

Mitsumasa nodded deeply two or three times,

"Splendid! This is truly a warrior's bond—I am moved. Therefore, Danbee, I wish to grant you a reward. If you have any desire, name it."

"With all due respect—there is a request I would make."

Danbee prostrated himself and said.

“By the crime of hiding Hachirōta’s family and persistently deceiving the authorities, I humbly beg to be ordered to commit seppuku—this is my sole request.”

“No—that cannot be permitted. Have we not already determined Hachirōta bears no guilt?”

“However—”

Danbee interrupted Mitsumasa’s words.

“However, the crime of having once deceived the authorities cannot be erased. Should you pardon this by any chance, the nation’s laws will surely fall into disarray. I implore you to order my seppuku.”

“Wait a moment—”

“No—I will not wait! By all means!”

He remained obstinate and unyielding.

“So you insist on cutting your belly no matter what?”

“I, who left Tsu expecting to face execution, have been prepared for this outcome from the very beginning! There is no further need for you to stop me!”

Danbee declared resolutely.

Neither Sanjūrō nor Hachirōta could intervene in this particular dispute.
Mitsumasa watched Danbee in silence for a while, but having fully grasped his unshakable resolve, he suddenly raised his voice and spoke, all while nodding in some internal acknowledgment.

“Very well—if you insist so vehemently, I shall say no more. However, there is no need for you to cut your belly. As promised, I shall now carry out your execution myself. To the garden!”

“Ah—a most gracious fortune.”

Before he could answer, he smoothly stood and descended to the garden.

Danbee settled solemnly onto the grass, whereupon Mitsumasa drew his sword and stepped swiftly behind him.

“Are you prepared?”

When he called out, Danbee quietly,

“I fear I shall stain your blade.”

With that he extended his neck.
At that moment, Mitsumasa’s sword cut through the air.

“Hah!”

With the cry, Danbee’s topknot was severed and came undone. Without sparing even a glance at the stunned Danbee,

“Clean up the corpse.”

With that, Mitsumasa briskly departed to the inner quarters.

Two hundred gold ryō and a single white under-robe with an attached lining—these alone were the items bestowed upon Danbee.
After retiring to the residence and adopting priestly robes, Danbee promptly departed Okayama and returned to Tsu, where he spent the remainder of his life as guardian of his late lord Takaatsu’s tomb—or so the accounts say.

The bandit Daijagatake Yamieimon—known as Yakurō—remained in Okayama, where he was appointed as a foot soldier and is said to have prospered for many years thereafter.