Pathway to Japanese Literature

Ichi no Ichi

Yagura Pass winds in seven bends.

Seven valleys, bottomless depths.

To the mountain teahouse, fog rolled...

A mesmerizingly beautiful voice drifted from somewhere.

Though night had long since ended, this mountain gorge confined by sheer peaks rising on both sides saw only the faintest stirrings of morning light. From the fathomless valley below, thick milk-white fog welled up - wetting cliff faces, stringing beads across high hinoki leaves and larch branches, swirling and drifting as it climbed the pass road before flowing away...
This was Yagura Pass, reputed to be the most treacherous of the mountain trails connecting Mogami District in Dewa Province to Oika District.
The mountains of Sukawa-dake stretched northward and split into several ranges, where the valley cut deeply into the earth, the upper reaches of the Omono River sending up white spray.
The mountain pass road followed that stream, winding north and south along the cliff face.

Seven horses, seven palanquins

That was the princess's return to her home province

All seven peaks cleared without exception…

As the singing voice drew nearer through the fog, a fourteen- or fifteen-year-old horse handler soon appeared ascending from the direction of Innai, leading by the reins a horse bearing a traveler—a boy known as Gorokichi the Horse Handler, reputed like a local attraction along these mountain backroads.

“I say, Horse Handler!”

Waiting for a pause in the song, the traveler on horseback spoke up:
“The song you just sang—I’ve often heard that as a handball song in samurai residences around Shinjo, but do they sing it as a horse handler’s tune in these parts?”

he said.
Gorokichi glanced up with keen eyes while,

“You’re exactly right—this is a handball song, sir. Miss Yuki from the peak teahouse always sings it, so I just ended up learning it over time.”

“I thought as much—it did seem odd for a horse handler’s tune.”
“But even so—to hear a samurai residence’s handball song in such a remote mountain pass teahouse... There must be some reason behind this.”

“Ah, there’s a reason for that.”

Gorokichi gave a single nod.

“The family of Miss Yuki who runs that teahouse were originally a large, long-established country samurai family from Shinjo.”
"The master was Dendo Hisaemon—a man of such stature that he was granted a spear by the Lord of Shinjo himself."

“Oh? And how did they come to end up running a mountain pass teahouse?”

“In addition to Miss Yuki, Lord Hisaemon had her older brother Kotaro as his heir. However, five years ago when Kotaro was eighteen, he went boar hunting on Mount Sukawa and disappeared without a trace.”
"Some say he fell into a mountain stream and died, and others say he went up to Edo and joined a ronin band."
"...The truth never came to light for anyone, but Lord Hisaemon said he'd grown thoroughly disgusted with the world after that—so he disposed of his estate and fields, then started this peak teahouse with Miss Yuki just the two of them. But here's what I think—"

Gorokichi continued his account.
"I think Lord Hisaemon started this teahouse to search for Mr. Kotaro, who disappeared."
"Maybe he thought Mr. Kotaro might be among the travelers going up and down the pass."

"That might be so."

The traveler on horseback nodded repeatedly.

“Well, that might truly be the case... What a sad story regardless. I think I’ll accept the invitation to tea and stop there.”

“Look! You can already see it over there.”

As the fog thinned, at the summit of the mountain pass where morning sunlight streamed so brilliantly it nearly dazzled through gaps between peaks, five or six oak trees stood near the cliffside with a single teahouse among them.—Gorokichi approached leading his horse while,

“Miss Yuki, a customer’s here.”

At that, a beautiful girl of about fifteen or sixteen came running out,

“You must be weary—please rest here. Thank you for your service, Gorokichi.”

she cordially invited him in.
She was a fair-skinned girl with keen eyes—every bit the descendant of an esteemed country samurai lineage. Though her attire spoke of poverty, her bearing and appearance possessed an undeniable grace.

“It is such fine weather today.”

“It’s cleared up nicely, hasn’t it?”

“With weather like this, your journey must be quite comfortable.”
“I’ll prepare the tea now—will you be accompanying him all the way, Gorokichi?”

Yuki diligently worked before the tea kettle while directing a smile toward the boy.

“Ah, I’ll be escorting him all the way to Iwasaki.”

“Oh, right! Then when you pass through Yuzawa on your return, please buy more fern cakes again. Father’s favorite has run out, and we’ve been in quite a bind.”

“Sure thing—I’ll get ’em for you.”

At that moment, a bird flew past behind the teahouse, crying out in a clear voice—when the traveler turned around with a look of surprise, the daughter was bringing tea.

“It is a cuckoo.”

she said.

I-2

Yuki watched until the horse led by Gorokichi disappeared down the mountain pass,

“Yuki... Yuki.”

Noticing the voice calling out,

“Yes, right away.”

She hurried inside with the tea tray in hand.—In the back lay two modest yet meticulously cleaned rooms that served as their living quarters. Her father, Hisaemon, half-sat on the floor with a Go board placed beside him, arranging stones alone. But when his daughter entered, he averted his gaze—

“Was that customer heading up?”

“No, he said he was heading down to Iwasaki—a gentleman who looked to be a merchant of about thirty.”

“I see...”

“But more importantly—Father.”

Seeing her father’s lonely profile, Yuki deliberately raised her voice cheerfully—

“I’ve just asked Gorokichi, so you’ll be able to have fern cakes tonight.”

Having said that, she went out to the front of the shop.

It had been five years since her brother disappeared and three since they came here. Though Father claimed to have given up in words, he too was still waiting for his son’s return—when this thought came to her, Yuki’s chest tightened with sorrow.

Hisaemon had concluded from the very beginning that Kotaro had fallen into Sukawadake Valley and died. And indeed, those who went searching found Kotaro's gun sunk at the bottom of the mountain stream and returned. At the same time, there was also a strange rumor that he had actually gone up to Edo and joined a ronin band. But Yuki did not believe either. Her brother, so familiar with the mountains, would never make such a fatal mistake in a place like Sukawadake—he was alive, he had to be alive. Not idly joining some ronin band in Edo as the rumors claimed—no, he must have gone up to Kyoto to work alongside loyalist party members—this Yuki firmly believed.

Her brother had always spoken of restoring imperial rule.

Because the Shinjo Domain had strong pro-shogunate influence, he never mentioned it to friends or his father, but he often spoke of it to Yuki.

"You wouldn’t understand yet,"

her brother had said to Yuki when she was young.

"Japan now stands at a perilous crossroads—foreigners harboring all manner of sinister designs have their sights set on our nation from every direction.

Moreover, the Tokugawa Shogunate lacks the power to prevent this—the only way is for all of Japan to unite under His Majesty the Emperor and confront this threat with combined strength."

“All of Japan must unite—no more shogunate, no more daimyo. All Japanese people must unite under His Majesty the Emperor and join forces to protect our nation.”

The earnest tone of her brother, who had spoken with solemn conviction, remained vividly in Yuki’s ears even now.
...When her brother had disappeared, Yuki had been only ten years old—but she immediately thought: Brother hadn't died; he had gone to Kyoto.
And while Hisaemon claimed to have given up in words, he probably still believed Kotaro was alive.
Lately, whenever travelers passed by, he would watch them depart subtly, his aged eyes that had grown weak shining all the while.

Poor dear Father.

Yuki murmured softly.
Yuki understood—her brother would never return. This was the brother who had staked his life on imperial restoration; he would not come home until a new Japan was built.
But if I were to say that, how disappointed Father would be.

Poor Father.
It was when Yuki murmured this once more.

Just as thunderous hoofbeats echoed from the direction of Shinjo, two samurai urging their horses appeared before the shop—one of the mounted men tightened his reins while—

“You there—”

“Did a samurai pass through here this morning?”

“Um, Sir...”

“Or perhaps he’s changed his appearance.”
“Did an unfamiliar man pass through?”

“Just now—one person.”

Yuki stepped out under the eaves and said, “A merchant-looking gentleman headed down to Iwasaki on Gorokichi the Horse Handler’s horse. I don’t believe they’ve reached Sugisaka yet.”

“—That’s the one!”

his companion shouted.

“We can’t fall behind—after them!”

“Understood.”

The two wheeled their horses about and, whips raised, went plunging headlong down the mountain pass.

Two-One

The sun had already risen high, the sound of the mountain stream flowing through the deep valley bottom echoed crisply off the cliffs, and the cuckoo’s call flitting from forest to forest only deepened the already lonesome stillness of the mountains.

What had happened?

After watching the two riders gallop away, Yuki felt a strange foreboding in her chest.

“Yuki, what was that just now?”

“Samurai-like gentlemen from Shinjo—wearing sashes across their shoulders with sweat cloths tied on, their hakama trousers hitched up—chasing after someone...”

Yuki abruptly fell silent.

From the slope of the mixed grove across the path before her eyes, a travel-ready samurai came sliding down unsteadily.

—Ah!

When Yuki, startled, tried to retreat into the back, the samurai came fleeing in like a startled hare and—

“I beg you—t-this…”

—and abruptly thrust the object he was holding into Yuki’s hands.

“Please take this into your keeping—it is an item of utmost importance that must be protected even at the cost of one’s life—we are completely surrounded by pursuers with no escape—I swear it contains nothing illicit—please safeguard it!”

Because he wore a sedge hat, it was hard to tell, but he was still a young samurai.

His clothes were badly torn, dirt caked his shoulders from collar downward—struck by the desperation in his voice, Yuki instinctively accepted the item.
It was a splendid document case adorned with mother-of-pearl inlay.

“My deepest gratitude.”

The young samurai placed his hand on his sedge hat. “I will stake seven rebirths and never forget your kindness. If this humble one does not arrive by tomorrow morning, take it to an inn called Kashiwaya in Yuzawa and give it to a man named Okita Ihei—ah!”

The young samurai whirled around,

“The pursuers are here! I beg of you!”

he dashed out onto the road.

From the slope where the young samurai had just slid down, four or five samurai pursuers appeared.
Quicker than sight, Yuki placed the document case into the empty sweet sake pot beside the tea kettle and closed the lid.

The young samurai dashed toward Yuzawa like a hurled stone, but the pursuers seemed to catch up at once.

“Hah!”

“Yaaah!”

Fierce battle cries rang out.

Yuki shuddered from fingertips to scalp as if doused in icy water; her father seemed to say something, but it never reached her ears—her whole body remained paralyzed by the ferocious clash of blades—yet half-conscious, she staggered out beneath the eaves.

In the clear, warm sunlight, the blade flashed like a white rainbow. Figures swirled together in chaotic motion, and at the sound of a piercing cry, one pursuer collapsed onto the road as the young samurai retreated toward the cliff edge. What had been four or five pursuers now numbered only two. Yet the young samurai too bore wounds—his body swayed unsteadily despite maintaining his formal sword stance. Then came the clatter of hooves from Yuzawa’s direction—the two mounted warriors who had earlier chased Gorokichi’s horse now rode up shouting at full voice.

—Oh no!

Yuki's heart involuntarily cried out,

“Hiyah! Take this!”

A scream erupted as one of the pursuers slammed his entire body into a ferocious slash.
The young samurai narrowly dodged, but when he twisted away, his right foot slipped from the cliff edge—Ah!—
he cried out, plummeting like a ball into the valley—

Yuki instinctively covered her face with both sleeves, but all strength drained from her body at once as she staggered unsteadily—had Hisaemon not come running out to support her at that moment, she would surely have collapsed in a faint.

“Yuki! What part of ‘Get inside’ don’t you understand?!”

“...Father.”

“Steady yourself—get inside!”

As Hisaemon tried to guide Yuki into the house with a supportive hold, the two mounted samurai and two pursuers quickly approached—

“Wait, wait! Stop that girl!”

they called out to stop her.
—Yuki turned around and, while quietly releasing herself from her father’s grasp,

“……Yes,” she replied without a trace of fear, looking directly at them.

“That young man who just fell into the valley—we hear he stopped by here and left something with you. Hand it over.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

Yuki said without changing color.

“The samurai who was here earlier certainly did stop by, but he merely inquired about the road to Yuzawa, and I have taken custody of nothing else whatsoever.”

“Don’t you dare say you don’t have it!”

One of the mounted men nimbly dismounted and, whip in hand, strode aggressively to block Yuki’s path.

“But I have nothing—”

“Silence! You just said he asked you for directions to Yuzawa.”

“Yes.”

“Are you certain he inquired about the road to Yuzawa?”

“……Yes, certainly.”

“Liar!”
The man cracked his whip against the ground and shouted.

Part Two of Two

“Liar! Shall I show you proof? That man was a Shinjo retainer who knew this terrain intimately! What cause would he have to ask directions to Yuzawa?!”

“——”

“You’ve received something. Surrender it quietly and no harm will come—if you attempt concealment—”

As he spoke, he lunged to seize Yuki’s arm—she slapped his hand aside—

“Wait!”

Hisaemon interposed.

"You appear to be Shinjo Domain's honorable retainers, yet laying hands on a young girl is beyond propriety. Though I now keep this teahouse, I was once accorded treatment above those merely granted audience—the name Dendo Hisaemon must have reached your ears."

“Dendo... Ah!
“Wait, Kashima!”

One of them who had remained on horseback until that moment hurriedly dismounted and rushed over.

“Please forgive our rudeness; we have acted improperly.”

With a courteous bow, he continued, “We remain entirely unaware of these circumstances. I humbly beg your forgiveness—this humble one is Watanabe Kinnosuke of Shinjo Domain’s retainers, and this man is Kashima Genshiro. In truth—we pursued a traitor who betrayed our domain and drove him over the cliff moments ago, but the crucial item he carried remains missing. As our subordinates attest to witnessing him entrust it to this household, we have ventured to inquire despite the impropriety.”

“...What manner of disloyalty did he commit? And what precisely is this item you speak of?”

“I’m afraid I cannot answer those questions.”
"If you have indeed taken custody of it, we must earnestly request that you present it."

“Yuki—”

Hisaemon turned around,

“Did you take custody of something?”

“……Yes!”

Yuki looked up without a trace of fear.

“I have indeed taken custody of it.”

“——”

“Since Father’s name has been invoked, I can no longer tell falsehoods—I have indeed taken custody of it… However, I cannot surrender it to you.”

“Why would that be—”

“It is an item that the samurai entrusted to me.”
“As the daughter of Dendo Hisaemon, once I have made a promise, I cannot break it no matter what.”

Her demeanor was resolute.—Kashima Genshiro's eyes glinted sharply as he took a large step forward,

"Forgive my bluntness, but then you understand you become an accomplice to traitorous retainers?"

"Your accusation goes too far."

Yuki said resolutely.
"Before you call me an accomplice to traitorous retainers, show me proof that you yourselves are loyal ones."
"Then we may exchange proper courtesies—but if you remain dissatisfied and insist on taking it by force—"

“What do you intend to do?”

Yuki twisted her body and darted into the house—and immediately emerged having drawn the genuine spear from its sheath.

“This spear was bestowed by the lord of Shinjo—though unworthy, I shall face you in combat. Therefore, cut me down first before searching this house!”

“You—such insolence!”

As Genshiro instinctively stepped forward,

“Wait, wait, Kashima!”

Watanabe Kinnosuke restrained him.
“This spear was bestowed by our lord.
We must show no discourtesy—wait!”

“But that item—”

“Enough—I said wait!”

Having restrained him, he turned back,

“Your demand that we show proof we are not traitorous retainers is indeed reasonable. If we present this evidence, you will hand it over, I trust?”

“When I am satisfied, I shall deliver it.”

“Then we shall return to Shinjo and bring what should serve as evidence. During that time, I must request you keep custody of that item without fail.”

“I am Dendo’s daughter.”

“——”

While staring intently into Yuki's eyes, Watanabe Kinnosuke gave a deep nod and turned on his heel.

Urging his companions onward, the four departed; Hisaemon had been silently observing everything all along.
Having watched the four men ride toward Shinjo with their wounded comrade mounted on a horse, he quietly laid a hand on his daughter’s shoulder.

“Yuki—how old are you now?”

“Oh—what are you asking? You know perfectly well I’m fifteen.”

“You acted honorably.”

Something glistened in Hisaemon’s eyes.

“Nothing more to say… You acted honorably.”

“Father!”

Yuki put down the spear and clung fiercely to Hisaemon’s chest.—It was precisely because she had been so tense that she had shown strength surpassing even adults, but with that tension released, she remained after all a fifteen-year-old girl.
With cheeks wet with tears that could not be called either joy or sorrow, Yuki rubbed her face against her father’s chest like an infant.

II-III

When they entered the house, Hisaemon once again,
"But Yuki, when you so defiantly opposed those Shinjo retainers, was it solely to keep your promise? Or did you have some other motive in mind?"

“—Father.”

Yuki raised her tear-filled eyes—yet with a quiet smile on her lips—and spoke.

“When I saw that young samurai’s demeanor, I knew at once he wasn’t involved in anything dishonorable.”

“How could you tell?”

“Wouldn’t someone who does wrong themselves naturally distrust others? That man didn’t doubt me in the slightest—he entrusted me, a complete stranger, with something so precious it must be guarded with one’s life. That noble resolve—to never yield this item even in death—is something I believe you too would have shown, Father, had you witnessed it.”

Hisaemon silently nodded.
As the daughter of a country samurai with a distinguished lineage, Yuki possessed not only strength but also the right eye for seeing things clearly.

“Now I understand completely.
But... if the one who entrusted it has fallen to the valley bottom and died, what do you intend to do with that item?
I expect the Shinjo Domain retainers will soon come to reclaim it, but—”

“To go to Shinjo and return, even by galloping horse, it would take until tomorrow afternoon.”
“I shall go to Yuzawa during that time.”

Yuki said, recalling the words left by the young samurai.

“That samurai sir said that if he does not come by tomorrow morning, I should take it to a man named Okita Ihei at Kashiwaya in Yuzawa. Because the pursuers came, I could not confirm anything after that—but I believe he must have intended for me to deliver it there.”

“If you are discovered along the way—”

“No—if I take the water-fetching path behind the cliff and cross Sugisaka, it will be Lord Satake’s domain. I can go and return without being detected.”

“Then we should act quickly—no, wait!”

Hisaemon steadily looked toward the road.

“...What is it?”

“There are watchers.”

When Yuki, startled, turned around, she noticed someone quickly hiding in the shadows of the mixed grove on the slope across the road. Though the distance was too great for conversation to carry, they had likely been observing them until now. Yuki stood up with an innocent face, went to the iron kettle’s side to add firewood, and began singing in a quiet, beautiful voice.

Yagura Pass twists sevenfold,
Seven valleys sink to unfathomed depths,
To the peak's teahouse the fog rolls in...

III-I

In the cloudless sky, the moon shone brilliantly.

The peaks flanking the ravine resembled misty ink wash paintings, their lines now gentle, now precipitous, as they faded dreamlike toward Mount Sukawadake.
Though it was spring, the night air bit sharply, and frost clinging to dead grasses and roadside rocks glistened under the moonlight.

From the direction of Yuki Teahouse, a black figure returned to the shadow of a large rock at the bend of the mountain pass, moving as quietly as a cat.
...there were three masked samurai gathered there.

“Well? Any signs of suspicion?”

“Nothing—the girl’s in the parlor spinning thread and singing that handball song as usual.”

“Then are they truly waiting for Mr. Watanabe to come?”

“If that’s the case…”

“There’s no need for us to keep watch like this, getting pelted by frost,” one of them said with a shiver.

“But there’s always the chance of an emergency.”

“Exactly—we mustn’t let our guard down until Mr. Watanabe returns.”

With that, they pressed themselves against the shelter of the rock.

At that moment—from the withered grass some twenty or thirty paces away from where they were—a shadow began moving smoothly down the mountain pass.
Slithering through bamboo grass and weeds nearly as tall as himself with weasel-like swiftness, the figure emerged onto a winding stretch of the mountain pass—it was Gorokichi the Horse Handler.

Gorokichi approached the horse tied to a cedar tree by the roadside and, while patting its flat neck in a low voice,

“Hey there, Brother—turns out there’s some creep after Miss Yuki. I’m gonna go tip someone off, so you wait right here, got it? Don’t you dare make a peep even if you get lonesome!”

With that, Gorokichi left its side.

Crossing the road toward the cliff revealed a barely discernible path descending into the valley; Gorokichi, nimble as a monkey, hurried along that path to Yuki Teahouse's rear.—The teahouse's back stood immediately at the cliff's edge, where the water-fetching path emerged before its kitchen. When Gorokichi peered in, Yuki's handball song could be heard within the quiet hum of the spinning wheel's whirring.

“Miss Yuki—Miss Yuki.”

Gorokichi called in a hushed voice.

“It’s Gorokichi, Miss Yuki.”

Whether she had heard him, the singing stopped and there came a sense of the girl emerging from the kitchen.—The storm shutter opened without a sound; Gorokichi, unable to wait any longer, leaped inside—

“Miss Yuki, there’s trouble! A suspicious man out front!”

“Keep your voice down.”

Yuki hurriedly interjected while,

“Actually I was waiting for your return, Gorokichi. Where’s the horse? Did the watchers notice you?”

“It’s all right.”
Gorokichi gave a firm nod,

“Some shady characters showed up so I tied the horse first and went to investigate. When I realized they were targeting this house, I came through the back path to warn you. The horse’s tied at the big bent cedar.”

“Thank you, you’ve done well, Gorokichi. I’ve been waiting to borrow your horse—now I can fulfill this important promise.”

“What’s this important promise?”

“Ask Father about it later—I’m leaving right away.”

When Yuki retrieved the document box entrusted by the young samurai and returned, she pushed aside the bewildered Gorokichi, who stood there dazed without understanding,

“Then I have a request—spin the spinning wheel in my place and keep singing that handball song, will you? Make the watchers think I’m still here.”

“Sure thing. But there’s no way I can sing with a voice like Miss Yuki’s.”

“Don’t worry! Your voice is better than mine—I’m counting on you!”

With that, Yuki slid out to the rear.

It was a cliffside path carved out of the precipice's rock. A single misstep would send one plummeting to the thousand-fathom valley floor. However, Yuki—accustomed to the path—moved with nimble ease, retracing Gorokichi’s route in reverse to emerge onto the mountain pass. The bright moonlight made it seem like daytime; if she were careless, she would be spotted by the watchers at Orikuchi Rock. While crouching low, Yuki reached the spot where Gorokichi’s horse was tied, her breath catching in her throat.

三の二

Yuki was breathing heavily.

At the inn on the outskirts of Yuzawa Town—Kashiwaya—she now sat facing Okita Ihei in a back room.

Ihei was a sharp-eyed samurai in his forties who, judging by his accent, appeared to be from Satsuma.
In the dim light of the oil lamp, Yuki stared fixedly at the man’s face as she... concisely recounted the events since that morning.

“—You’ve done well.”

Having finished listening to her account, Ihei’s sharp eyes now clearly reflected emotion as he—

“We have caused you unexpected trouble for the sake of our comrades. From this humble one, I offer my deepest gratitude.”

“In that regard—”

Yuki composed herself,

“I wish to be told what lies within this document box.”

“...And what will you do upon hearing it?”

Ihei sharply raised his eyebrows.
Yuki met his gaze unflinchingly,

“I believed that gentleman to be righteous, but should there be even the slightest chance that he is not, though it pains me to say so, I cannot deliver this to you.”

“...And if I refuse to speak?”

“I will take this back as it is.”

Ihei fell completely silent.
Yuki stared at him without blinking——the sizzling sound of oil burning in the lamp’s dish echoed through the sleeping household like the murmurs of a living creature.

“Very well—I shall speak.”

Ihei said after a moment.
“Inside this lies the pledge document of Lord Tozawa Kazusanosuke, ruler of Shinjo Domain.”
“It is a pledge document swearing fealty to the Imperial Court through reverence for the Emperor and expulsion of foreigners.”
“Though Shinjo Domain remains firmly pro-shogunate, Lord Kazusanosuke holds deep reverence for the Emperor and has secretly presented this pledge to Kyoto, swearing his utmost loyalty.”

“...Oh.”

“Do you understand now?”

Ihei quietly raised his eyes,

“The pro-shogunate elders discovered this and obstructed us from all sides, but our comrade Shinjima Sadakichi finally made arrangements to receive it.”

“Then that person…?”

“The man we entrusted it to was Shinjima. With this, he has splendidly fulfilled his duty—all thanks to you. I offer my deepest gratitude.”

Ihei bowed with both hands placed on his knees.

Yuki let out a sigh of relief.
After all, her judgment had been correct—she had done the right thing.
If Brother were alive, he must be serving His Majesty the Emperor somewhere like these people—and if word of what she'd done reached him, he would surely offer praise.

“Then I shall take my leave here.”

Yuki stood up.

“Wait—it’s fine for you to return, but what will you do if Shinjo Domain members come to collect it?”

“Well… that…”

“You’ll need this document box, I presume.”

Ihei slid from his seat as he spoke, reverently untied the cord, took out the pledge document inside, then swiftly wrote a forged pledge and placed it within.

“This will suffice. Take this and return.”

While retying the cord exactly as before and presenting it,

“Though I cannot adequately repay your strenuous efforts, I shall never forget this debt of gratitude.
...And amidst the earlier commotion, I failed to inquire—pray tell me your name.”

“Yes, I am called Dendo Yuki.”

“Dendo... Lady Yuki—”

“At present we keep a teahouse, but my father was once a country samurai named Hisaemon.”

Ihei suddenly let out a low, sharp cry. For a time, he simply stared vacantly at Yuki’s face, but eventually, as he composed himself from the shock, he spoke.

“Could it be… you have a brother…?”

“I do! I do!”

Yuki instinctively drew closer on her knees. “His name is Kotaro. He disappeared over five years ago—might you know of him?”

“What a miraculous twist of fate,” Ihei uttered with a groan.

“I know him. I know him well.
“Dendo Kotaro is my dear friend.
“In Kyoto now, he serves as an indispensable figure among imperial loyalists. I recall him once mentioning a father named Hisaemon and a sister called Yuki back home.
“So it was you.”

“Oh... Brother,”

Yuki’s voice caught with emotion,

“Has he truly risen so high?”

“When the war to overthrow the shogunate begins, he will stand among its foremost leaders.
“How his heart would leap if I told him of you... This meeting has become an unlooked-for blessing.”

“I too can now be at ease.”

Yuki said while quietly wiping her tears, “If you should meet my brother, please tell him Yuki and Father are living well together.”

“Understood—until Japan’s new era soon arrives, may you and your father both remain safe.”

Warm tears glistened in Ihei’s eyes as well.

“Hey, the night’s finally ended!”

“So… nothing has come to pass after all?”

From the rock shadows along the mountain pass, the three samurai on lookout duty emerged, shivering.

Morning came again to Yagura Pass.
The valley swirled with thick fog that completely enveloped the distant peak.
Though sunlight had yet to reach them, the sky overhead stretched clear as if wiped clean, showing today too would be splendidly fair.

Yagura Pass had seven bends.

Seven valleys, bottomless...

A singing voice approached through the fog.
It was Gorokichi leading a horse.
He flashed a mocking smile toward the samurai and stuck up his nose in disdain,

The fog swirled up to the mountain peak teahouse....

he continued singing as he went.—Just then, the teahouse door slid open, and Yuki emerged with a radiant smile, joining in the song after Gorokichi.

Seven horses, seven palanquins

That was the Princess returning to her homeland...

Their voices, like a triumphant anthem, shook the fog, echoed through the valley, and soared high into the sky.

All seven peaks had cleared without exception…