Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

When he exited the Ote Gate, thunder began to rumble in the distant sky.
The air had been humid since early afternoon, and as clouds raced across the sky with alarming speed, he thought this looked dangerous—then just as he passed Sakura no Baba, rain finally began to fall.
Gun Genichiro glanced around briefly but, spotting Shokoji Temple’s tower ahead, hurried toward it.

As he climbed the stone steps, rain cascaded down.
Just as he entered the temple gate, a samurai’s daughter accompanied by a maid rushed in behind him.
Genichiro wiped his wet head and shoulder hems while avoiding looking their way... From skies now dark and fully clouded over, large raindrops fell like slanting silver threads—striking the ground with violent force and throwing up mist-like spray.
Across the road stretched Yatakezo’s long earthen wall, but even this became invisible through the torrential downpour.

“This is quite troublesome,” came the young woman’s voice from behind. “…You said it was just a passing shower, so we came here—but now it doesn’t look like it’ll let up at all! If I’d known this, I should’ve either waited or had you bring an umbrella.”

Her tone was unbearably haughty, and her manner of speech was just like a man’s.
Genichiro turned around involuntarily.
The girl seemed to have anticipated that; yet it was clear she was pretending not to know.
She was probably around seventeen years old—a tall, well-proportioned figure. Though her face was in profile, making it hard to see clearly, her sharply defined eyebrows and mouth suggested a stubborn disposition; her tightly drawn cheeks and receding chin gave her face its distinctive character.

“Souda isn’t very considerate either, is he?”
The girl continued, pointedly ignoring Genichiro, “...He must realize I’m getting drenched along the way—can’t he even be bothered to send rain gear? There’s nothing more absurd than idly sheltering from the rain like this.”

This person is formidable indeed, Genichiro thought in astonishment.

When one spoke of Souda, it referred to Toda Saemonnojo, who served as an elder statesman of the Ogaki domain. Since the Toda clan comprised three branch families, Saemonnojo—whose estate lay in the Souda district—was called by that name. Yet only a chief retainer should address him so casually as “Souda.” Even in this unofficial setting, samurai of the clan were present here now. For a young girl to refer to him with such nonchalance sounded extraordinary—just whose daughter was she? Genichiro looked her way once more.

“This spray is terrible,” said the girl, pinching the hem of her kimono with one hand. “…If we stay here, we’ll get soaked from the spray even while avoiding the rain. You—go to Souda and borrow rain gear.”

The maid answered, “Yes,” but when she looked up at the torrential downpour, she hesitated to step forward.
The girl prompted with utter indifference, “What are you doing?” and the maid, as if steeling herself, attempted to dash out with both sleeves layered over her head.
Genichiro, unable to bear watching any longer, called out, “Wait a moment,” then removed the haori he wore and tossed it to the maid.

“Put that over your head—it should help a bit. No, don’t hesitate—take it with you.”

“Well then…” The maid started to say something, but with the rain pounding down like blows, she simply gave a light bow, pulled the haori over her head, and ran out into the storm.

The girl looked in his direction for the first time.
This time, Genichiro quickly averted his face—yet since she still seemed about to say something, he spun on his heel and went around to the back of the temple gate.
He had not meant to be stubborn; he simply found being spoken to bothersome. …Just then, a young samurai emerged from the direction of Shokoji Temple’s priests’ quarters, holding an umbrella bearing the temple’s crest, and called out to Genichiro from across the way. It was Yanai Matasaku—a colleague who served alongside him as a guardsman.

“Taking shelter from the rain, huh? Can’t call it a poetic refuge with it coming down this hard.”

Matasaku approached while saying, “...This doesn’t look like it’ll let up anytime soon. Since we’re halfway there anyway, let me walk you home. Why don’t you come under?”

Saying he would take him up on the offer, Genichiro stepped into the umbrella.
As they were about to exit the temple gate, Matasaku noticed the girl there; then, with a deeply surprised expression, he bowed low.
Genichiro did not look back; after descending the stone steps and turning left, once they had walked half a block or so, Matasaku spoke as if divulging a secret: “That was Old Man Kansai’s daughter.”
Old Man Kansai referred to Chief Retainer Toda Naiki, and Genichiro vaguely recalled having heard that the old man had a daughter named Koyuki who was exceptionally manly.
She was skilled with short swords, bows, and naginata, and particularly adept at horsemanship; her reputation for often riding alone far beyond the castle town was well-known.

“The old man doted on her as if he wanted to keep her in his very eyes—and because of that, she ended up completely wild. Her every move and way of speaking became just like a man’s. They even say she once walked stark naked past a room full of guests right after bathing, completely nonchalant.”

“Society’s rumors are utterly irresponsible.”
“But in that woman’s case, it goes beyond mere rumors—since I’ve seen it with my own eyes. And...”

“Thank you.”

When they reached the corner, Genichiro stepped out from under the umbrella to take his leave. “...I’ll run ahead from here—your help got me through this.”

II

Gun Genichiro put the events of that day out of his mind in his own way. As for the girl named Koyuki and the haori he had lent to the maid... The reason was that a marriage proposal soon came his way, he had been transferred from guardsman to mounted escort, and all sorts of matters kept him busy.

The prospective bride was the daughter of Sada Gondaiyu, who served as Spear Magistrate—a match initiated by Gondaiyu himself after recognizing Genichiro’s potential. The elder statesman Ohtaka Hanzaemon was to serve as matchmaker. For the Gun family’s social standing, this was an exceptional arrangement.

At first, Genichiro hesitated; he was an utterly ordinary man with no particular talents to speak of. My only merits are not being pushy and speaking little, he thought. He truly believed that himself.

However, society proved fickle—though he spoke little and kept quietly to his seat unless necessary, people began holding his conduct in remarkably high regard. At some point, someone had remarked, “Gun is a man of substance”; that comment focused everyone’s attention on him at once, making them nod in agreement that there was indeed something to him—he surmised that this was the extent of it.

Even during his time as a guardsman, he had somehow been recommended for a key administrative role, and his promotion to mounted escort had come about because the guards’ captain had taken notice of him. Moreover, for his marriage to the daughter of Spear Magistrate Gondaiyu, an elder statesman was serving as matchmaker—though surely only ceremonially—but this is all rather beyond my station, he thought.

He had no intention of belittling himself, but being overestimated beyond his standing was troublesome; thus he had hesitated considerably—yet Sada Gondaiyu, likely having perceived this, came repeatedly to press him,

“Humility is a virtue in a person, but it’s equally vital to assert yourself resolutely when circumstances demand.”
“Talent lies dormant unless acknowledged by its bearer. What you require now is unwavering conviction that you surpass a thousand men.”

He repeated this again and again.
It wasn’t solely due to that reason alone—but through things he had realized from those words and being moved by Gondaiyu’s fervor—that he ultimately consented to the marriage proposal.

Likely having been informed by Sada himself, no sooner had the matter been settled than colleagues came one after another to offer congratulations: “The time has finally come! I always thought so—mark my words, Gun will rise through the ranks!”
“Don’t let this chance slip by—give it your all! If there’s anything I can do to help, I’ll labor like a beast of burden for you.”
“Don’t forget we’ve got your back—our old comrades are waiting in reserve.”
They all spoke words steeped in camaraderie—some with an air of earnest support, others veering into outright flattery—each offering their own version of heartfelt encouragement.
...The ceremony was scheduled for November.

It was mid-August when Genichiro was suddenly dispatched as an envoy to Hikone’s Ii family by order of Lord Samon Ujisai.

It was already nearing noon when he left the house.
His attendant was a single servant named Yakuro. Though autumn had arrived, midday remained hot, and with no rain for some time, each step along the parched road kicked up dust that swirled briefly before settling back down in the absence of wind.……After only a brief rest in Tarui, they pressed onward. As dusk neared near the Fuwa Barrier ruins with no sign of lodging being sought, his servant Yakuro voiced concern.

“Right—we’ve reached a lodging spot,” Genichiro paused briefly. “…The day is hot, and crossing the mountain at night would be better. The moonlight should be favorable tonight.”
And he started walking again.

“Is this truly safe? I’ve heard rumors that troublesome foxes sometimes appear at Ibuki Crossing.”

“Foxes would be troublesome… However, I must hurry with my official duties.”

As they entered the mountains, night fell.
Fortunately, the moon had risen over the mountain gorge, and the temperature had cooled pleasantly, making the ascent easier.
When they reached the high point of the mountain pass road, they found a well made from rock spring water and sat down there to eat their evening meal.
The moon had already risen to the zenith; somewhere in the distance, the sound of a mountain stream could be heard, and deep within the forest where cedars, cypresses, and zelkovas stood tall and thick, birds suddenly cried out as if frightened.
After taking a leisurely rest, the two rose from there.
The path twisted into switchbacks, with a forest on one side and a valley visible to the right as they entered Ōmi Province. Just past the provincial border, in a shaded mountain hollow, four or five men suddenly appeared and blocked their way.
They had burst forth from the thicket on the left—and as moonlight shone brightly only upon that spot, their rough appearance became vividly visible.
They all wore light armor and warrior straw sandals while gripping fearsome weapons. The tip of one man’s plain spear glinted sharply in the moonlight.

“Bandits, Master! Bandits!” cried Yakuro the servant in a half-scream as he ducked behind Genichiro.

Genichiro gripped the hilt of his sword with his left hand and swiftly shifted his gaze from the men before him to the thicket on the left and the darkness behind them.
In the thicket there appeared to be fourteen or fifteen people, and in the moonless gloom at their rear he could see over ten more.
Genichiro released his grip on the sword hilt.

“What is this? Who are you all?”

“As you see,” answered a towering giant in response to Genichiro’s question, “…Or perhaps you take us for palanquin bearers or muleteers?”

“I don’t take you for horse handlers or palanquin bearers. So… do you have business with me?”

“It’s no grand affair. Your valuables, of course—and we’ll be wanting you to strip down to nothing and hand it all over.”
The giant spoke in an unnervingly calm voice: “However, let us be clear—we are neither common bandits nor mountain thieves. We are all men of unwavering virtue. Precisely because of this virtue, we loathe mingling with the corrupt world. Seeking kindred spirits, we retreat into these mountains to temper body and soul within nature’s sanctity. Mount Ibuki is our stronghold; this pass, our domain.”

“Any samurai who passes through this checkpoint,” bellowed one of the giant’s companions, driving his spear into the earth, “—be he daimyo, feudal lord, or even shogun—must pay tribute to us! A price for defiling this sacred ground with your sullied tread! Your valuables go without saying—leave behind everything from swords to every thread of clothing! Refuse, and we’ll waste no words—it’s battle!”

“You ready?!” someone shouted, and about thirty men spilled out from the thicket and the darkness behind them, spreading out to block the path ahead and behind.
Genichiro did not move—staring at the face of the giant before him, he silently listened to their words.
Their speech was terribly antiquated and theatrical, he thought.
Admittedly, their theatricality worked precisely because it was a performance; he also mused that if they used such speech in ordinary daily greetings, it might come across as rather strange.

And when the bandits had completely surrounded them front and back, he quietly addressed the giant.

“I fully understand your demands; I’ve grasped your terms well. If that is your code, I would willingly strip down to nothing—but I am currently en route to Hikone on official business for my lord. Stripping bare here would render me unable to fulfill this duty.”

“People each have their own business to attend to.”
“This checkpoint shows no such mercy!”

“That’s why I want to propose a deal.”
Genichiro took out a money pouch from his breast pocket and, handing it to the giant, said, “...There’s about twenty gold coins in here. I’ll give you this first, so please let me keep my swords and clothes. If you can’t overlook them, then could you allow me to borrow them until I return from Hikone?”

“You want us to lend them? What manner of request is this?”

“Once I fulfill my official duties, I shall return directly along this road—I vow to surrender my garments and swords when I come back, no later than the night after tomorrow.”

“What foolishness you speak!”

The spear-wielding man roared with laughter. “...You think we’d actually swallow such drivel and wait around for your return? We’re no greenhorns to be taken in by a child’s trick!”

“Whether it’s a child’s trick or not matters little to me,” Genichiro replied calmly. “But a promise remains a promise… When I return from fulfilling my duty, I shall strip myself bare without fail. If you truly are samurai of noble virtue as you claim, you would understand—a warrior does not go back on his word.”

“Enough! Strip or fight—choose one! No debates!”

“If you’re samurai, act as samurai should—decide cleanly: draw steel or disrobe.”

“This farce tires me—end it now!”

Their fervor steadily mounted.
They grew agitated by their own war cries, each re-gripping their weapons as they poised to strike.
Then the shrewd giant raised his hand high and halted his comrades with a “Wait! Wait!”

“Enough already—everyone hold! This may be the most absurd proposal I’ve ever heard,” he declared, “but I find merit in this ‘warrior’s word is unbreakable’ notion. Let us test whether there’s falsehood in it.”

“Then do you accept our terms?”

“Let’s wait—but let me make this clear: if you break your promise or try anything strange, we’ll broadcast this entire affair far and wide and make you a laughingstock.”

“A thorough precaution indeed.”

Genichiro smiled and nodded.

“Then I shall borrow them for now.”

And the master and servant passed through there.
As they began descending past the mountain pass, the beautiful undulations of Sakata Village’s mountains unfolded under the moonlight, with scattered houses starting to appear along both sides of the road.
Yakuro, the servant, had been unable to utter a word until then, his feet seemingly not touching the ground. Yet once houses with lamplight shining through paper doors came into view, he finally seemed to regain his vitality and burst into raucous laughter.
He suddenly became talkative, chattering with vigor: “Such witless bandits wouldn’t appear even in Aesop’s Fables!” or “I’d love to see their foolish faces waiting today or tomorrow!” or “Still, how splendidly the Master outwitted them with such cleverness and nerve!”
Genichiro let him chatter in silence but finally reprimanded him with a single remark.

“You mustn’t speak of such things carelessly. If someone overhears you, it’ll bring shame!”

Genichiro arrived in Hikone and completed his business the following day.
As soon as his business was concluded, he set out on the return journey accompanied only by Yakuro.
The servant, who had naturally believed they would either take a different path or else report to local authorities to secure an armed escort, now found himself bewildered and unable to fathom his master’s intentions as they retraced their route without any sign of having filed such a report.……Genichiro paid no heed to such concerns, striding briskly onward as though timing their arrival for midnight, until they approached the original mountain pass.

III

The moon hung high, but shifting clouds made the road alternately bright and dark. A relentless cold wind blew up from the valley......It must have been around midnight when they reached the spot from two nights before, and Genichiro stopped there. He gripped his sword’s hilt with his left hand and listened intently to the surroundings for a time, then suddenly shouted with tremendous force: “Hey!”

“Hey! Yamadachi warriors! Hey!”

“Master—what are you doing?!” Yakuro turned pale with shock, waving his hands frantically. “...To say something so reckless—wait, please! This is outrageous!”

“Are there no Yamadachi warriors here?” Genichiro continued shouting undeterred. “...I am the one who passed through here the night before last. Are there no Yamadachi warriors here?”

A gruff “Yeah!” answered back.
The servant let out a strange cry and, gripping the sword’s hilt, darted around restlessly before hiding behind Genichiro.
A rustling sound came from the cedar forest on the right, and pine torches descended toward them.
Observing, what appeared there was the familiar giant and about ten men, but sure enough, fourteen or fifteen others seemed to be lying in wait in the darkness across the road, positioned as a rear guard.

“Well, well,” said the giant who had descended to the road, cautiously observing their demeanor as he approached.

“...You truly are the noble sir from last night.”

“You have come to fulfill your promise.”
“Since his official business is concluded, he’s come to return what he borrowed. Take them.”

“I see… True to the saying ‘a warrior does not go back on his word.’ Good—now strip.”

The giant kept a watchful eye on their movements even as he spoke; Genichiro unceremoniously took off his swords and handed them over, then swiftly stripped completely naked.
As if unable to wait for them to be bundled together, one of the bandits reached out from one side and snatched them away.

“Now, I have one request.”
Now naked, Genichiro tightened his loincloth and said:
“...I stripped to keep my promise, but spare my servant—it’d be too pitiful.”

“No good! First off—master’s bare while his lowly servant stays clothed? Breach of duty! Strip too!”

Yakuro also stripped naked—master and servant were now completely bare, save for their loincloths.
Reassured by this, the bandits who had been hiding in the shadows filed out one after another.
Genichiro looked around at them without laughing and said, "Is this satisfactory?" Then he urged his servant onward and began to walk.
The giant stood motionless, watching their retreating figures. As the master and servant disappeared into the forest’s shadowy depths, he let out a low groan as if overcome with emotion.
He looked thoroughly moved to the core.

“Well, the world is vast—there truly are strange people in it.”

After descending the pass, Genichiro waited in a village called Matsuo for morning to come, then asked passing villagers to hire a palanquin for him.
Of course this included one for his servant—two palanquins in total—and he returned home that afternoon.

He had strictly forbidden anyone from speaking of the matter, but likely due to the servant’s loose tongue, rumors began spreading at once: “What a disgrace for a samurai!”
“They say he didn’t exchange a single sword strike—he all but prostrated himself to beg for his life!”
“I misjudged him—I never thought he was such a coward.”
“I knew all along, I tell you! He’s exactly the man I thought he was—he’s just shown his true colors.”

And that rumor spread like wildfire to every corner of the Ogaki Domain.

The public opinion that had once praised him as “Gun is a man of character” without any solid basis now wildly exaggerated the facts and set out to crush him.
It was overwhelming and scathingly harsh—both those who knew him and those who did not now claimed he had always been a coward from the start, timid, and moreover skilled at currying favor with others.
Some testified that during an earthquake he had hidden in a bamboo thicket for three days without emerging, that he had apologized without a word when a horse handler picked a fight with him on the road, and that he routinely greased the palms of his superiors—even claiming someone had once witnessed a certain veteran official berating him to his face.
……And before long, sheets of paper bearing satirical poems and derogatory phrases were frequently pasted to the gate of Gun’s residence.

One day, about twenty days later, Sada Gondaiyu came visiting with a solemn expression.
Frowning sullenly with his mouth twisted downward, he scrutinized Genichiro up and down as they sat facing each other.

"The rumors about you have grown too vicious—I came to confirm the truth."
"Is it true you met bandits at Mount Ibuki and let yourself be stripped naked without lifting a hand? Though I suppose it must be lies—well?"

"It is no falsehood—nearly all of it is fact."

"I see. So it's true."
Gondaiyu contorted his mouth and glared at him with eyes like a biting dog. "...Then I'll ask once more for clarity—why put on such a disgraceful show? Did you have some grand purpose? Explain yourself."

四

“There was no particular intention behind it,” Genichiro answered without hesitation.

“...As I was carrying out official duties for my lord during my journey, I needed to preserve this body until completing my mission. Therefore, I determined to avoid confrontation by any means necessary.”

“So that’s why you stripped yourself completely bare?”

“Exactly. To prevent conflict, I had no choice but to promise the surrender of both my garments and swords.”

“That applies to your outbound journey. Upon returning after fulfilling your duty, other options should have been available.”

“However, on the return journey, I had promised to hand over all my clothes and swords.”

“Promise, promise, promise!” Gondaiyu shouted, his patience snapping. “...If it were a righteous person you were dealing with, fine—but what kind of promise is this with Yamadachi bandits? Such drivel won’t pass as an excuse!”

“That may be so. However, I believe that as a samurai, once a promise is made—even to Yamadachi bandits—it must be honored.”

“If you wish to believe that, then believe it. People have their own ways of thinking—I can’t very well force my differing views on you.”

But Gondaiyu turned defiant: “...But with such a difference in our views, we’d make poor relations as father-in-law and son-in-law. Fortunately, the wedding ceremony hasn’t yet occurred—let us formally dissolve this engagement with the young woman.”

“If that is your wish, there is nothing to be done. Please proceed as you see fit.”

Even Genichiro paled around his forehead.
Gondaiyu declared he would send another envoy and departed.
The day after that incident, the servant suddenly absconded.
Since his careless slip of the tongue had spiraled into an unexpected scandal—and likely finding the situation unbearable—he left behind a note stating, “With such a master, I cannot show my face in society.”
Upon learning this, three retainers also took their leave—with a thunderous roar, everything seemed to collapse all at once.
……In the end, only the long-serving elderly maidservant and Genichiro remained.

“Those who wish to leave may do so.”
The elderly maidservant spoke with aged composure to console her young master: “...Those who fret over public opinion and cast aside their lord will find no success wherever they go. You need not trouble yourself over this, Master—it is but seventy-five days of endurance to weather.”

“Good times pass as do bad,” Genichiro could only reply with a wry smile. “...In any case, it matters little.”

One night while they were discussing such matters, a woman’s voice came from the kitchen entrance. The elderly maidservant went out to investigate but returned with a suspicious look and announced, “A young maid wishes to have an audience with you, Master.”

“She says she has something to return upon meeting you—but no, I’ve never seen this maid before in my life.”

“I wonder what this is about. Anyway, I suppose I should meet her.”

The girl guided in by the elderly maidservant appeared in the attire of a maid serving a samurai household—a sturdy young woman of about seventeen or eighteen.
When he saw her sit down with a modest bow, Genichiro thought her face looked somehow familiar.

“You may have forgotten already,” the girl said, keeping her eyes lowered, “...but I am Natsu—the one to whom you lent your haori when we sheltered from the rain at Shokoji Temple’s gate near the end of spring this year.”

“Ah, I remember now.”
“I thought I recognized you after all,” Genichiro exclaimed involuntarily, “…There was such a time. I had completely forgotten—it was during that sudden evening downpour.”

“Yes, my lord. At that time, I borrowed your haori garment, but when I returned, you were no longer there. As I did not know your residence or name, I could not return this precious item until today—for this, I sincerely apologize.”

“You needn’t have concerned yourself with that.”

“The other day, I made inquiries through a certain party and at last ascertained it was you, so I have come to offer my thanks. Truly, I am grateful for your kindness all this time.” Saying, “Please accept this,” she presented the wrapped haori garment to the elderly maidservant.

“Going to such trouble for a trifling item must have been burdensome.”
“It’s nothing of note, but why don’t you take some tea over there before leaving,” Genichiro said with an unexpectedly bright demeanor. “Kane, attend to her.”

Saying “Yes,” the elderly maidservant promptly urged the girl to her feet and rose.
Genichiro felt a bright and cheerful emotion—a refreshing feeling in his chest—for the first time in what seemed like ages.
Nearly a hundred and fifty days had passed since that torrential downpour; he had completely forgotten about it, yet she had spent all that time searching for him. Her feelings filled him with indescribable joy—especially now, when the fickle judgments of society had beaten him down—making the emotion strike all the more powerfully. He felt his brows relax as if lifted by an unseen hand and murmured, “After all, there’s no need to despair in this world.”
……Had about an hour passed? The elderly maidservant Kane entered with a troubled expression.

“Could you consider employing that girl?” Kane said tentatively, as if gauging her master’s reaction.

“...If it’s possible, I too would very much like to make this request.”

Five

"But isn't she supposed to be serving at Chief Retainer Toda's household?"

"I was dismissed," she said. "When I borrowed your haori garment, my failure to inquire of your residence or name displeased Chief Retainer Toda's young mistress. It seems I was soon dismissed with the reasoning that one so ignorant of proper etiquette could not remain in service."

“That is most regrettable.”
“In that downpour, there had been no time to ask for your residence or name; the fault lay with me for departing first—it was no failing of yours as a maid. Should that have caused your dismissal from the Toda household, I must bear some responsibility.” He paused, then added quietly, “...Very well. If you find it acceptable to remain here, I shall take you into my service.”

“Thank you most profoundly for this kindness. My daughter will surely be overjoyed as well.”

“But as a precaution, we must thoroughly verify her background. I entrust this matter entirely to you.”

The elderly maidservant stood up and left, overjoyed as if it were her own affair.

The storm of bad rumors showed no sign of abating, but since he remained utterly unfazed—likely leaving them nothing to push against—the harshness gradually diminished.
And Gun’s household’s daily life continued quietly and uneventfully, as if entirely untouched by such matters, without the slightest change.
……He had resigned himself to an inevitable job transfer, but fortunately, no such order came, and his duties passed without incident as the season turned to winter.

It was a hushed evening with a drizzly rain falling.
The maid Natsu, who had brought tea, said, “I’ll tend to the fire,” pulled the brazier closer, and somewhat awkwardly began adding more charcoal.
Genichiro casually glanced at Natsu’s face; she had turned her profile toward him.
Those brows and lips suddenly made Genichiro’s heart skip a beat.
As if unable to trust his own eyes, he scrutinized Natsu’s facial features and physique once more……His eyes shone sharply, his lips drawn tight—noticing the intensity of his gaze, Natsu glanced up at him—Genichiro searched her eyes intently before turning back to the book spread open on his desk.

It was the following morning.
Having finished a leisurely breakfast on his day off duty, Genichiro stepped out onto the sunlit veranda—warm after the rain—to gaze at the garden. There, in the vegetable plot behind the storage shed, Natsu was vigorously loosening soil across the furrows with a hoe.
He had struck soil with it before—a hoe larger and heavier than average—yet Natsu wielded it with apparent ease; her stance and footwork were precise, and the assured rhythm of her motions as she hoed the earth even seemed almost cheerful.
Genichiro descended into the garden and approached the side of the storage shed unnoticed, but soon emerged from there and stepped boldly before Natsu.

“The naginata and the hoe—the key to handling them boils down to one principle, does it not?”

“...Oh...”
Natsu, taken by surprise, opened her eyes wide.

“...I was startled.”

“Well, why don’t you put down the hoe? There’s something I’d like to discuss.”
Genichiro stared intently into Natsu’s eyes. “...You must have heard of my reputation before coming to this household. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes.”
Natsu nodded while lowering her eyes as if dazzled. Genichiro continued.

“The coward who encountered the Yamadachi without crossing blades even once, stripped himself bare to beg for his life; timid, skilled at currying favor with others, adept at slipping bribes to his superiors.”

“Please stop this.”
Natsu cried out as if she could no longer bear it.

“Please… please, I beg of you, do not speak of such things.”

“But everyone in the world says so—and you must have known that. Why then did you choose to live in this household? No—don’t dissemble. I want the honest truth: why?”

“Ever since I was dismissed by Lord Toda...”
Natsu replied in a voice choked as if clogged in her throat, stammering: “...I had nowhere else to turn. It was through the bond of borrowing your haori that I thought... perhaps I might be permitted to serve here.”

“I want the truth, Lady Koyuki,” Genichiro said coldly. “...Why did you choose to come to Gun Genichiro’s household? Why did you have to pretend to be a maid? I demand a clear answer.”

“……”
The girl deeply lowered her head.

“Will you not answer me?”
After waiting a short while, Genichiro prompted her thus.

“I shall answer.”

The girl, as if finally resolving herself, quietly raised her eyes and said, “...Before that, may I ask one thing—have you heard what rumors circulate about me in society, Lord Genichiro?”

“I can’t say I’ve heard enough to speak of it.”

“A girl uncommonly mannish for a woman—rough-spirited and willful, riding horses astride like a man, speaking and moving just like one… even walking naked past rooms where guests were present fresh from the bath. Have you not heard such rumors about me?”

VI

“Let us not speak of rumors.”
Genichiro stared bluntly at the girl. “...However, I met you at Shoko-ji Temple. I heard your words and observed your demeanor—and I must confess that none of it struck me as conduct befitting the daughter of a distinguished household.”

“If only someone had said that to me—if only someone had said that five years ago,” Koyuki pleaded, her voice trembling, “...then I might have grown up differently. I was born stubborn and willful, but I did not take pride in it. I felt ashamed and strove to correct myself—truly, I tried so hard—but the eyes of those around me would no longer permit it. Koyuki *had* to be extraordinary. She could not behave like a proper lady or carry herself with grace. She had to ride horses astride, wield a short sword, and speak like a man. The cruelest part was that even my own father believed this was my true nature. Do you think it brought me joy? To be a girl at the age when she should be wearing beautiful dresses, adorning herself with makeup and hair ornaments—do you think any of that made me happy?”
She looked up fiercely into Genichiro’s eyes. “...If being an extraordinary girl was what they desired, then I resolved to become just that—my stubborn nature drove that decision. The result is what you yourself witnessed at Shoko-ji Temple’s gate: what Koyuki became. But at that moment... when you threw your haori to the maid... I shuddered as if cold water had been poured down my back. My brutish conduct and your gentle consideration stood in such stark contrast. After you left ahead with Yanai-sama... I hid in the shadow of the temple gate and wept until the maid returned.”

Koyuki said she had heard his name from Yanai Matasaku.
She said she had met him to express her gratitude, felt an intense desire to confide her painful feelings, and had been waiting for the opportunity to arise.
However, time passed without that opportunity and before she could reach a resolution, the “Yamadachi disturbance” occurred.
And immediately, the malicious rumors about Genichiro reached her ears—these were utterly unlike any previous assessments of Genichiro she had heard, brimming with irresponsible malice.
Koyuki said that here as well, she thought public opinion was trying to destroy a person, and she prayed with all her heart that Genichiro alone would not succumb to such rumors—that he would not lose himself as she had.
But the bad rumors showed no sign of abating; his marriage proposal had been broken off, and even his retainers and servants had turned their backs on him—so he had heard.

“I felt as though I couldn’t breathe,” Koyuki said in a strained, hushed voice. “...Having endured that pain myself, I understand all too well what you must be feeling, Lord Genichiro. If Koyuki—who knows that suffering—could become your emotional anchor, I thought... Then Lord Gondaiyu came and I overheard him telling my father about your exchange. ‘A warrior’s duty knows no distinction between foes,’ he declared. ‘Even if the Yamadachi are bandits, a promise made must be honored—that is a warrior’s duty.’ Hearing those words settled my resolve. I couldn’t let irresponsible rumors destroy someone so noble. I had to stand by your side as your support. So I pleaded with my father—the pretense of being a maid was our agreement to conceal my identity, but without it, I could never have entered your household.”

To Genichiro, it seemed he could see how she had persuaded her father. And while sympathy for Genichiro might have contributed to her resolve, fundamentally she had wanted to save herself—to start life anew alongside him under his roof, as someone made extraordinary by public opinion, together with him who shared her plight. This became clear through over a hundred days in this household—her gentle bearing, modest speech and expressions, the reserved quietness fitting for a maid without pretense... While Koyuki had meant to become Genichiro's emotional anchor, in truth she had through this begun living as a proper young woman. And how perfectly it suited her.

“I understand.”
Genichiro nodded slowly after a moment. “...I am deeply grateful for your concern. However, now that I know you are the daughter of the chief retainer, I cannot allow you to remain here in this manner.”

“Please wait.”

“No—that won’t do. Whatever the circumstances may be, allowing you to remain here as you are—”

As he began to say this, Genichiro turned around.
Someone threw open the gate and rushed in, shouting “Gunuji! Are you here?” as they immediately ran this way.
It was Yanai Matasaku.

“I’m here.”
Genichiro went out.

“Something terrible has happened!”
Matasaku ran up while waving one hand. “...Fourteen or fifteen rōnin warriors armed with spears, naginatas, matchlock guns and such have stormed into the castle town! The foot soldier unit’s trying to subdue them at the main gate, but they’re brandishing guns with lit fuses—no one can get close! It’s utter chaos at the main gate!”

VII

Hearing this, Genichiro briskly entered the house and soon emerged fully prepared.
Matasaku stood there dumbfounded,

“What are you going to do?”

“The foot soldiers may have been deployed, but we mounted guards can’t stand idle—especially at the main gate.”

“But they’ve already handled it! What good’s one or two more men?”

But Genichiro had already started walking toward the gate.

The commotion exceeded all expectations; a dense crowd had encircled the main gate plaza, with foot soldiers and ashigaru scrambling about in disarray; four or five mounted guards could be seen shouting orders and barking commands.
...The rōnin warriors at the heart of the incident stood in the center of the plaza—all thickly bearded, clad in light armor and warrior sandals, gripping weapons like spears, naginatas, staffs, and matchlock guns as they proudly sprawled out. One among them held aloft a notice board-like object measuring approximately two shaku wide and over five shaku tall, upon which were written the following characters in remarkably skilled calligraphy:

Proclamation: Offering Our Lives

A band of fifteen peerless warriors offers their lives in service for a stipend of one thousand koku. However, we reserve the right to decline masters deemed unworthy.

Tenna 3, an auspicious day | Resident of Mount Ibuki | Akamatsu Rokurozaemon

While Genichiro was reading it, a mounted samurai approached the group.
It was Sada Gondaiyu, the Spear Magistrate. Gripping a plain spear in his right hand and leaning forward from his saddle, he bellowed, “You vagabonds! Will you not disperse? To invade the castle town with spears and guns, disturbing the main gate—this is a grave offense! Disperse quietly, and we shall let you go unharmed! Refuse, and we will surround and cut you down where you stand!”

“Let’s make this entertaining.”
A man of exceptionally large build rose from among the band. He carried on his back a greatsword seemingly over five shaku long and gripped a tempered hexagonal rod in his hand. “...Lord Toda is a prestigious house of the Tokugawa clan! To wage battle before their main castle’s gate would be an honor indeed! No need for courtesy—come at us!”
No sooner had he shouted this retort than he raised one hand and called out to his comrades.

“Light the matchlock fuses! It’s time for battle!”

“You dare say that!”
Gondaiyu yanked his horse’s reins taut. “...Then I’ll cut down all fifteen of your heads and have them displayed as trophies! Don’t you dare roar!”

It was the instant he roared and tried to turn his horse around.
From within the crowd, Gun Genichiro leapt out, shouting, “I shall take charge of these ruffians!” and forced his way between Gondaiyu and the band.
……He tied his sash crosswise, adjusted his hakama’s thigh guards, and with his left hand positioning the curve of his greatsword, stepped boldly toward the giant.

“Are you the one called Akamatsu?”

“Akamatsu Rokurozaemon—indeed, that’s me.”

“It says ‘resident of Mount Ibuki’—is that accurate?”

“No need for formalities—let’s have it out.”
The giant who had introduced himself as Akamatsu roared, “...Hold your ground!”

The fifteen men who answered “Aye!” already seethed with bloodlust.
Genichiro grinned.
He stepped back, resting his hand on his sword’s hilt as he declared:

“Mark my words—you owe me a debt. On that moonlit midnight last August at Ibuki Pass—the samurai you left naked in the mountain pass was none other than myself.”

“Wh-wha—?!”
They widened their eyes in astonishment.

“I endured the shame of being stripped bare because I was carrying out my lord’s orders. But today, there’s no need for that—this time, it’s your turn. Now, let’s settle this.”

“Ah, Hachiman! Praise Hachiman!”
The giant threw down his staff, turned toward his comrades, and cried out in ecstasy, “...Did you all hear? We’ve found him! By the divine guidance of the god of bow and arrow—this is the one! At last, we’ve found our master! Everyone, sit down!”

They threw down their weapons and prostrated themselves there alongside the giant.
Genichiro was also surprised, but the astonishment of Sada Gondaiyu and the crowd filling the plaza was extraordinary.
……The giant’s large eyes shone like a child’s as he,

“We had been searching for you,” he said to Genichiro. “…From that day until now, we had roamed the land seeking you—searching for you.”

“And what on earth is the reason for that?”

“We were completely overwhelmed by your pure samurai conduct—that resolute adherence to your word you demonstrated then. To live thus—nay, as humans we must live thus—this I resolved. Having found you at last, we determined to entreat even for the lowliest position among your retainers. This singular purpose has compelled our search until this day. We plead with you—grant our desire. We implore you.”

“This is our life-or-death plea,” they said in unison. “...Please take us as your retainers. Let us live as true humans should. We beg you this with all our hearts.”

In this world, one never knows when or where something might happen.
The “Yamadachi disturbance” reached the feudal lord’s ears. Samon Ujiaki, struck by the incident’s peculiarity, burst into laughter and declared, “Amusing! Their resolve is most commendable. Make those men Genichiro’s retainers. I shall provide their stipend from my own coffers.”
Thus, Genichiro came to have fifteen stipend-bearing retainers of Yamadachi origin. …Later, when the commotion had subsided, Sada Gondaiyu visited Gun’s residence.
The old man wore a rather unwell expression; even after sitting down, he coughed repeatedly and rubbed his knees for some time before finally broaching the subject: “Actually, regarding the recent marriage proposal...”
“This is truly difficult to say, but breaking off that marriage proposal was due to my own carelessness.”

“Wait a moment, please.”
Genichiro interrupted him. “...Before hearing your account, there is someone I wish to present.”

Then he called out, “Send Koyuki in.” Immediately the sliding door opened and Koyuki entered.
Genichiro waited until she had taken her seat before addressing Gondaiyu.

“This is my wife, Koyuki.”