Pathway to Japanese Literature

One

Wakana was diligently whittling arrow bamboo.

Since winter of Tenshō 2 the year before, war had been raging with the neighboring province, so those guarding Ōmura Castle in Hizen (Nagasaki Prefecture) busied themselves mending armor, crafting warrior sandals and bows and arrows—women and children alike laboring to their hands' limit producing wartime necessities.

—Hm?

Wakana abruptly stopped her hands.

From the direction of the road came a child's crying voice—that voice seemed to belong to none other than her younger sister Senami.

“Wakana, isn’t that Senami crying?”

In the adjacent room, Mother said.

“Go check on her.”

“Yes—”

Wakana immediately stood up.

When she stepped outside, there indeed was her younger sister Senami returning home in tears. As she hurried over, she noticed the kimono was completely caked with mud.

“Oh Senami, what happened?”

“——Sister...”

When she caught sight of her sister, Senami began crying even louder.

“What’s wrong, Senami? You’re already seven years old—do people cry so much over just a fall? Think about Brother off at the battlefield.”

“I didn’t fall!”

“Then how did this happen, getting covered in mud like this?”

“They all threw mud at me!”

Senami said resentfully.

“They were saying awful things about Brother—calling him a traitor, a coward, and a disloyal wretch! And when Senami told them that was a lie, they all threw mud at me!”

“—What?!”

Wakana looked toward them in surprise.

At the corner of the samurai estate, five or six boys were jeering while looking this way.
They were all children of high-ranking samurai families.

“Senami, you go on home.”

With that, Wakana strode briskly toward the boys.

Her elder brother Denjirō Kikuchi was away at war as fifty-man commander of the spear unit. The Kikuchi family was renowned as imperial loyalists from the Yoshino Court era, descended from the Kikuchi bloodline of Higo Province, and respected in Ōmura Castle as a lineage of impeccable pedigree.

Wakana was a fifteen-year-old girl, but

――Traitor. Disloyal wretch.

She knew full well what profound shame it meant for a samurai to be called such things—all the more so as the Kikuchi family boasted imperial loyalist lineage, a house that valued just cause above life itself.

I cannot forgive those who spread such rumors.

With that thought, she approached.

The boys stood composedly with malicious looks in their eyes, their arms crossed and chests thrust out.

“Who made Senami cry just now?”

Wakana calmly confronted them.

“We did!”

A fifteen- or sixteen-year-old boy answered.

"We all did. Got a problem with that?"

“Don’t you think it’s cowardly for men to gang up on a little child?”

“Ha! You’re the real coward here!”

“Why am I a coward?”

“If you’re a coward’s sister, you’re bound to be a coward yourself! If you’re traitor Denjirō’s sister, then you’re all traitors too! If things were right, every Kikuchi oughta be thrown out of Ōmura!”

“Silence!”

Wakana trembled as she shouted.

“This is different from other matters! If you dare call a samurai a traitor, do you know what consequences await?”

“’Course we know—hah!”

The boy sneered.

“Your brother Denjirō switched sides to the enemy and blabbed all about our positions! That’s why our forces lost Mount Kamafushi’s encampment to them!”

“That’s a lie! None of that is true!”

“If you think that’s a lie, go ask at Lord Genba’s house! Denjirō’s working with the enemy forces right now—he’s a traitor!”

“………”

Wakana's face turned deathly pale. After glaring at the boy's face for some time, she eventually ran toward the samurai general's house.

Two

“Wakana… what’s happened to you?”

Observing her daughter sitting before the evening meal without touching her chopsticks, the mother asked with concern.

“—Mother”

Wakana raised her tear-filled eyes.

“Today, I heard an unpleasant rumor, you know.”

“What did you hear?”

“It’s about Brother.”

Mother seemed to avert her eyes slightly in fluster.
Wakana did not overlook that.

“Mother… You knew about it too, didn’t you?”

“—You…”

“The fact that Elder Brother switched sides to the enemy army, letting them capture Mount Kamafushi’s encampment—you already knew about this, didn’t you, Mother?”

“—I knew.”

Mother sorrowfully lowered her eyes.

“I did know... but I thought it would be wrong to worry you by bringing up such rumors.”

“No, this isn’t mere rumor. I went to Lord Genba’s residence and inquired myself. He didn’t explicitly say ‘traitor,’ but he confirmed it was true that Elder Brother was currently serving among enemy forces—and that Mount Kamafushi’s encampment had truly been lost to them.”

“—And so?”

The mother looked doubtfully at her daughter.

“How do you feel about that?”

“What do you mean, Mother?”

“Do you truly believe the rumors spread by others and what you heard at Lord Genba’s residence to be true? Do you believe that Denjirō is a traitor?”

“—Mother… Don’t you believe him?”

“Wakana, come here for a moment.”

With those words, she stood up and led her daughter into the family altar room. Then sitting down quietly,

“Before our ancestors’ mortuary tablets, I ask you again—if you were to go to war and our side faced defeat, what would you do? Would you surrender to the enemy army to save your own life?”

“No, I would die an honorable death alongside my comrades.”

“Then—if you were wounded and captured by the enemy army—what would you do?”

“If it comes to being taken prisoner, I would bite my tongue and kill myself.”

The mother nodded.

“Even you, a woman, should possess that much resolve—Wakana Denjirō is master of the Kikuchi household; you may be a woman but Denjirō is a samurai; the same blood that flows through your body flows through his.”

“…………”

“Even you, a mere woman, possess such resolve—do you think Denjirō, a man, would commit betrayal?”

“…………”

“No matter what the world may say, no matter how Lord Genba may speak of it, Mother believes in Denjirō.”
“Can you still not believe?”

“…No, no, Mother.”

“Then abandon these trivial worries, and believe in your brother. Even if all the people in the world speak ill of him, you and I must continue believing—do you understand?”

“…Yes.”

Wakana obediently nodded.

But that didn’t mean her anxiety had vanished.
No matter how much Mother and I believed, there was nothing to be done about the world’s rumors branding him a traitor.
If things continued like this, Mother and we sisters might soon be driven from this castle town.
But more importantly—the honor of the Kikuchi family! Could we let our unblemished name, passed down from Lord Taketoki himself, be called disloyal and faithless?

――No good, this won’t do!

Wakana shook her head violently.
I can’t let them call us by that disgraceful name for even a single day!
Then what should she do?

Wakana considered various possibilities.
Even after entering her bedchamber and lying down with her pillow, she continued pondering how to erase the dishonorable rumors and how to clear her brother's tarnished name, staring into the deepening night's darkness as she turned these thoughts over in her mind.
And then she realized there was only one possible method.

That’s it—I’ll go to the enemy encampment.

Though it was wartime, Wakana was but a girl. If she disguised herself, she should manage to enter the enemy camp—then find her brother and demand the truth.

There’s no other way!

Wakana bravely resolved herself.

Through the stillness of night, Hourenji Temple’s eighth-hour bell (2:00 AM) rang out.
Wakana slipped out from under the bedding and, while listening to her mother’s breathing, quietly took up the brush to write a note.

Mother—Wakana shall go to Brother’s side, and…

III

Ryūjū Akazawa had originally come from pirate stock.

During the Warring States period spanning the Genki and Tenshō eras, he too had likely harbored ambitions of becoming lord of a province and castle. Rallying numerous pirate comrades, he entered from the Ariake Sea to Shimabara, landed on the western coast of Ōmura territory while setting villages ablaze and oppressing innocent citizens, all while committing merciless acts without restraint as he advanced upon Ōmura Castle with unstoppable momentum.

Sumitada Iki immediately deployed troops to intercept them and once succeeded in driving them back. However, being pirates, the Akazawa forces possessed abundant matchlock guns and gunpowder. Eventually, the Ōmura forces were repelled in turn until even the strategic stronghold of Mount Kamafushi fell to the enemy—this mountain range, whose highest peak rose over 1,000 meters, overlooked Ōmura Castle Town from just twenty-four kilometers to the east. Now the enemy further fortified it with an impregnable fortress.

The Ōmura forces had positioned themselves twelve kilometers away, lying in wait for an opportunity to attack, but found themselves immobilized by the enemy’s superior matchlock guns—it was amidst these circumstances that Wakana set out to find her brother.

Wakana disguised herself as a destitute orphan, entered Arima territory once, and arrived at the western side of Mount Kamafushi via a long detour.
This area now lay entirely within Akazawa’s sphere of control—military encampments and checkpoints stood everywhere, laborers hauling soil or erecting palisades and digging trenches moved about ceaselessly, mounted warriors galloped through their midst, and columns of soldiers advanced along parched roads while churning up billowing clouds of dust.
For roughly five days, Wakana had been losing herself within that commotion until she eventually became acquainted with the soldiers at an encampment.

An orphan whose house had been burned in the war and who had been separated from parents and siblings.

There were many others with similar circumstances, and the fact that she was a girl must have lulled the enemy into complacency. After some time, she became able to go to Mount Kamafushi's military encampment alongside the rotating soldiers. The work was bullet making.

She had finally managed to approach the Mount Kamafushi encampment, but the security there proved exceptionally strict. Wakana remained outside the compound, limited to making bullets and running errands for the soldiers, unable to gain entry into the fortress itself.

But Wakana did not rush.

She obediently listened to everyone’s instructions and worked diligently.

And during that time, she learned various things.
That her brother was now at the Akazawa forces' headquarters; that through his achievements in guiding the capture of Mount Kamafushi, he had become a spear unit centurion and served as a chief advisor to Commander Ryūjū Akazawa—these things and more.

So the rumors were true.

With each new thing she learned, the vile suspicion grew more real.

Has Brother truly betrayed us?

No—that cannot be true. Brother is a samurai. I must keep believing until I meet him and confirm it myself.

Doubts and confusion alternately tormented Wakana’s heart.

Thus passed another ten days until one day, Wakana was ordered to transport the bullets she had made into the fortress.—The long-awaited moment had arrived; Wakana carried gunpowder and bullets into the fortress amidst throngs of laborers and soldiers.

Both gunpowder and bullets were in astonishing quantities.

“They say the great decisive battle is finally beginning.”

“With this ammunition, we’ll crush the Ōmura forces in one strike—a magnificent battle is about to begin!”

“The Akazawa forces’ matchlock formations are invincible under heaven.”

Those voices discussing such things caught her ear.

It would take several days to completely transport everything in—precisely at dusk on the third day.
Seizing the moment when the laborers were occupied with their meals, Wakana swiftly slipped out toward the headquarters.

She had long since learned where the encampment housing her brother was located, but when it came time to actually locate it, finding her way proved far from simple. Before long, full darkness fell and night arrived.
Given it was wartime, no watchfires burned of course. Aside from soldiers occasionally passing through the area with pine torches, every direction was blocked by darkness thick as a wall.

What should I do?

As she stood paralyzed with uncertainty, Wakana noticed a familiar voice drifting from a hut right beside her.

Brother!

She realized it immediately.

When she pressed her ear against the wall of roughly hewn planks nailed together, it seemed the two or three men who had just been speaking loudly were about to emerge outside.

Wakana pressed herself flat against the wall.

“Then we have troubled you with this.”

“I take my leave.”

At those voices, the door opened, and four warriors departed through the faint torchlight—but her brother’s figure was nowhere to be seen. Wakana slid toward the door and, just as it was about to close, twirled her body and leaped inside.

“—Who’s there!”

The one who stepped back was her elder brother.

IV

Wakana closed the sliding door behind her with both hands while—

“It’s me.”

“……?”

“It’s Wakana, Brother.”

Given both the location and her completely altered appearance, Denjirō hadn’t recognized her immediately—but when he realized the figure standing there was his sister, his eyes widened as though doubting this might be a dream.

“You... you’re Wakana?”

“—Brother!”

“Wait—why have you come here? For what purpose?”

“Don’t you understand?”

While staring fixedly at her brother’s face, Wakana stepped forward.

“I have come to bring you home. Return with me to Ōmura this instant—come back to Ōmura—and... cleanse the disgrace of being named a traitor.”

“Silence! How dare you call your brother a traitor!”

“It is not my accusation—the townspeople of Ōmura say it. Children hurl mud at our sister—Brother! Come back and show them all proof you’re no betrayer.”

“No—I won’t return. There’s no need.”

“Why? Why won’t you return? Is it acceptable for Mother, Senami, and me to be driven from Ōmura like dogs?”

Denjirō seized his sister’s hand.
It was a grip devoid of fraternal tenderness—the harsh clasp of a stranger.
Wakana tried to wrench free, the pain forcing an involuntary cry from her lips.

“Brother!”

“Quiet! But I just had an idea—you’ve come at the perfect time.”

“——?”

“I wanted a hostage.”

Denjirō laughed with only his lips.

“The Akazawa forces don’t truly trust me yet—I must make them believe my loyalty here at all costs. After all, I didn’t come here intending to become some mere foot soldier commander of fifty or a hundred men.”

“That... What do you mean?”

“I will rise through the ranks—I will become a bannerman commander.”

“—Brother!”

“Come here. Make a sound and you’ll regret it!”

Wakana trembled violently.

Her brother was no longer the brother she once knew.
Both his expression and the light in his eyes changed with a harshness she had never witnessed before.
And with bone-crushing force, he kept his grip on Wakana’s wrist and dragged her out of the hut while she struggled.

“Brother, how could you do this to me!”

“What? You’ll just have to endure it for a while.”

Denjirō coldly interrupted his sister’s cry,

“If I rise through the ranks, I’ll regain my freedom.”

“—Let go of me!”

Wakana mustered all her strength to resist, but Denjirō said nothing more and dragged her with terrifying force along the stone rampart for about fifty paces until they reached what could be called a guardhouse.

“Is Sir Chief present?”

he called out.

“Who’s there?”

“I am Denjirō Kikuchi.”

“Very well. Enter.”

Upon hearing the reply, Denjirō entered inside.
About three foot soldiers and one bearded armored samurai had drawn a candlestick closer and were writing something.

“...Do you have business here?”

“A member of the Ōmura forces has infiltrated here.”

“What?!”
The armored samurai threw down his brush and sharply raised his eyes.
“This is the girl.”
Denjirō pushed Wakana away,
“She is the daughter of a samurai from Ōmura Castle. It appears she infiltrated by blending in with the laborers.”

“How did you know that?”

“She is my sister!”

Not only the armored samurai, but even the foot soldiers there were astonished and widened their eyes.
—Denjirō, as if taking pride in it,

“Though she is my sister, to me—a captain of a hundred in the Akazawa forces—she is no different from a stranger.”
“I shall hand her over, so please handle this appropriately.”

“—I see. A splendid approach.”

The armored samurai smirked.

“You could have let her escape if you wanted. Yet you dared to come forward and report this.”
“To tell the truth... There was someone listening to your conversation outside your hut just now.”
“However, this should completely clear away all previous suspicions.”

“That would be most appreciated.”

“—Brother!”

Wakana screamed as if tearing her own throat apart.
“Were you truly a traitor? Would you even betray your own sister…”

“Take this girl away!”

The armored samurai interrupted Wakana’s cry and shouted.

“And throw her into the prison cell!”

V

She was inside a dark prison cell.

Outside was a terrifying storm.

A full day had passed since then; Wakana touched neither the food brought to her nor drank a single sip of water.

She remained sitting motionless in the corner of the prison cell.

My brother was a traitor.
Even my younger sister had been handed over to the enemy.
And now he sought to rise to the rank of samurai general.
Everything was already over.

I can't go on living.

Those words swirled round and round like a whirlpool in her head; Wakana truly tried several times to bite off her tongue.
But she couldn’t do it; whenever she thought of Mother and her younger sister Senami,

I can't die like this.

That was how she felt.

What should I do then? Even if I managed to survive and escape this place—even if I returned to Ōmura—could I really tell Mother that her son was a traitor? Mother, who believed in him so completely, would likely perish from the shock. Wouldn't it be better to die here instead? At least that way I might spare Mother some measure of sorrow.

Torn this way and that in her agonizing thoughts, Wakana suddenly snapped back to awareness at the sound of something strange.

“...Lady Wakana—Lady Wakana.”

There was the sound of someone calling out, and soon after came the low clinking noise of a lock being opened.
“Lady Wakana, where are you?”

“—Who’s there?”

“Hurry! Hurry over here!”

Wakana couldn’t stand up immediately. But upon realizing someone had come to rescue her, she rushed toward the voice, feeling blood surge through her entire body.

“—Be quiet. Don’t panic—”

“Yes.”

“Put this on and wear this hat.”

In the darkness, the man quickly dressed Wakana in a straw raincoat and put a hat on her,

“Stay calm and watch your footing.”

With these words, he took her hand and led her out of the prison cell.

It was a violent, battering rain and wind.
Wakana walked in a daze as the man led her, turning whenever they followed the stone rampart, and when they reached the fence, slipped through what appeared to be a prepared gap.

“—Who are you?”

Wakana finally asked that when they had come that far.

“I am one who entered this fortress as a spy from Ōmura—please come this way. There’s a horse prepared.”

“How did you know I was in that prison cell?”

Bang!

Bang!

Suddenly, tremendous gunfire erupted.

“The castle’s breached!”

“Everyone out! The castle’s breached—”

Shouts pierced through the raging wind.

“We’re spotted!”

The man ran, practically shoving Wakana forward.
When they reached where the horses were tied, he quickly helped Wakana onto one, mounted another himself, and with their horses' bits aligned, they broke into a gallop.

The castle soldiers raised pine torches, aligned their matchlock gun muzzles atop the stone ramparts, and began firing in unison.

Bang!
Boom!!

Amid gunfire that pierced the torrential rain, bullets whizzed past them left and right.

“Get down! It’s dangerous!”

The man shouted as he maneuvered his horse behind Wakana and galloped off, whipping his mount relentlessly.
But the path was a steep downhill slope; carelessness would see both rider and horse dashed against jagged rocks—one more push would lead them to a winding path.

Just as he had that thought—

“Ah—!”

With a shout, the man leaned forward and began to collapse onto his horse’s neck.

A bullet had pierced through from his back to his chest.
When Wakana turned around at the scream, the man swiftly drew his horse closer and—pulling a letter from his breast—forced it into her hand.

“Deliver this... to headquarters.”

“—Yes.”

“Take this path left—it’ll lead down to Kurayami Valley. From there, it’s a straight road to Ōmura. I’m counting on you!”

“But what about you?”

When Wakana screamed, the man drew his large sword and struck her horse's hindquarters.
It was naturally a blunt strike with the back of the blade.
Yet the startled horse bolted like an arrow down the slope that had gradually gentled.

After seeing her off, the man yanked hard on his reins.

Through the raging storm, the sound of pursuers' hoofbeats deployed from the fortress drew nearer.

Bang!
Bang!
Bang!

Blind-fired bullets whizzed.

"—Alright."

The man, gravely wounded, sat up in the saddle and mustered his final strength to turn his horse’s head opposite the path Wakana had taken.—To ensure her complete escape, he cast his own body forth to lure the enemies away.

The pursuing cavalry indeed gave chase in that direction.

The gale churned the trees, and the torrential rain sent spray flying across the darkened mountain path.
Storm, storm!

VI

If one descends the valley, it is eight ri to Ōmura’s encampment.

Wakana desperately spurred her horse.
Through the pitch-black darkness she charged straight ahead, trampling fields and thickets, hills and streams beneath her horse’s hooves as she raced on.

At the Ōmura army’s gate,

“—Who goes there!”

If she hadn’t heard that guard’s voice, she likely would have been dashed against the gate, horse and all.

“Halt!”

“Who goes there? Where do you think you’re going!”

As four or five guards came scrambling out with shouts, Wakana finally managed to stop her horse while pulling back hard on the reins,

“He was a spy who infiltrated Mount Kamafushi’s fortress.”

she shouted.

“A spy, you say?”

“I’ve brought an important letter! Please deliver it swiftly to headquarters!”

With those words, she dismounted from her horse and handed over the letter she had been entrusted with—then Wakana collapsed right there in a daze.

Having gone over a full day without food or water and crossed the boundary between life and death, it was all her fifteen-year-old maiden’s body could do to reach that point.
—She didn’t know how long she had been unconscious.

“Hey! Wakana! Wakana!”

At the sound of the calling voice,

When she came to her senses with a start, she found herself inside the temporary shelter at headquarters.
Candlesticks blazed brightly, generals lined both sides, and at the front sat Sumitada Iki, resplendent in his battle preparations.

“—Ah!”

Startled, she tried to stand when

“There, there—stay as you are.”

Sumitada called out.

“Your efforts tonight were commendable. To accomplish such a crucial task despite your frail form as a girl—truly worthy of being Denjirō Kikuchi’s sister. I am thoroughly satisfied.”

“—I’m unworthy of such praise.”

Wakana prostrated herself sorrowfully.

“Brother... my brother has betrayed our allies...”

“Wait, wait—I bid you not to speak what follows.”

Sumitada gently stopped her with a smile.

“Denjirō is no traitor!”

“Wh—what?!”

“It was by Our command that he infiltrated their stronghold. We spread those traitorous rumors ourselves—to keep suspicions at bay from enemy spies lurking among us.—Genba! Lay bare every detail.”

“Understood, my lord!”

Samurai General Genba Tawara turned toward Wakana and began speaking quietly.

Denjirō was not a traitor.

Under Sumitada’s orders, they feigned collusion with the enemy, and the Ōmura army deliberately retreated from Mount Kamafushi—for this reason: The Akazawa forces possessed superior matchlock formations and had gunpowder in excess. At that time, matchlocks were still scarce weapons, and engaging Akazawa—who had them in abundance—would have been endlessly disadvantageous for our side.

By yielding Mount Kamafushi to the enemy—an exceptionally defensible stronghold they were certain to establish as their base—they would inevitably stockpile all their matchlock guns and ammunition there. If we then detonated that accumulated gunpowder, their firearms would become useless, after which we intended to launch a single decisive assault to crush them.

“—And the plan went exactly as intended.”

Genba paused to take a breath and continued.

“This letter was written by your brother Denjirō. It states they finished moving all the ammunition into place yesterday, and now they’re ready to set fire to that gunpowder storehouse.”

“Do you understand now? The reason your brother handed you over to the enemy was because the castle soldiers were always keeping close watch—and apparently there were men eavesdropping outside the hut even then... He writes that you should explain everything to your sister and tell her not to think of him as a hateful brother.”

Brother!

Wakana screamed frantically in her heart.

Please forgive me—Wakana didn’t know, she truly didn’t know.

Scalding tears streamed down.

Just then!

A deep, rumbling roar that seemed like an earthquake shook the ground—then came an earth-shattering explosion from Mount Kamafushi’s direction, as if a hundred thunderbolts had split the sky.

“There! It’s done!”

People ran out to the veranda of the temporary shelter.

From the summit of Mount Kamafushi, where dawn had finally begun to break, a massive purple pillar of fire erupted into the sky.

Boom!
Boom!

The pillar of fire struck the heavens three times in rapid succession.

“Advance! Advance!”

Commander Sumitada Iki shouted in a voice that rang clear and far.

The battle bell clanged, the bamboo horn bellowed—the long-awaited moment arrived.
With earth-shaking war cries, the first unit began advancing like a tidal surge.

Heave-ho! Heave-ho!

Heave-ho! Heave-ho!

As dawn approached, the storm relented. Through the breaking day marched the first unit with unwavering resolve, followed by the second formation. Their banners fluttered like ten thousand seabirds, sweeping across the plain as they pressed forward in relentless waves.

Wakana wept, unaware of the tears streaming down her cheeks, crying from the joy welling up from the depths of her heart and the rejuvenating delight that made her feel alive again.

“Mother, look! Look upon this magnificent advance! This is all Brother’s doing.”

She murmured through her tears.

Brother was not a traitor.
No, far from it—he had accomplished the greatest feat for the Ōmura army.

Wakana could bear it no longer and sobbed uncontrollably.
Sobbing and losing herself,

“Brother—!” she cried out toward the mountain.

“Mother is waiting—Senami and I are waiting too! Please come home after accomplishing your splendid work—Brother—!”

Wakana's voice resounded clearly and powerfully, carried by the morning wind.

It was the morning of May 2nd, Tenshō 3 (1575).