Pathway to Japanese Literature

I “Three times have I crossed spears with Harunobu of Kai. Once, with my own blade, I drove Harunobu into death’s grasp—yet failed to strike the final blow. A regret that gnaws at me still.”

Uesugi Terutora swept his piercing gaze across the assembly, then sharply struck the knee of his broadly set armored hitatare with his fan. “But this time—this time—I must decide the outcome.” “Due to the unending battles, the people’s strength has waned, and the soldiers too have grown weary.” “If we prolong our standoff with Kai needlessly, we must expect unforeseen calamity to arise from beneath our feet.” “For better or worse, this time shall be the moment of decisive battle—this time, we shall determine victory and defeat.”

His voice resounded through the hall, shaking its four walls.

In July 1557, the third year of Kōji, within Kasugayama Castle in Echigo Province, a military council to deploy forces to Shinano was being convened, with their lord Uesugi Kenshin presiding at the head. Those gathered were Uesugi's four senior retainers—Nagao Echizen Masakage, Ishikawa Bingo Tamemoto, Saitō Shimotsuke Tomonobu, and Chisaka Tsushima Kiyotane—alongside those known as the Twenty-Five Generals and other close vassals and key figures. …There is no need to recount here in detail the longstanding conflict between Uesugi and Takeda. The conflict between the two houses—referred to as the Battles of Kawanakajima—had been repeated over a decade spanning from Tenbun 22 (1553) to Eiroku 7 (1564), but at this time, they were facing its fourth occurrence.

“Therefore, this time I have decided on a full deployment of our forces.”

Terutora continued. “For the castle guard: one person with five hundred soldiers; the rest shall deploy in full to Shinano.” “Therefore, the matter of who to appoint as castle guard—” “I beg to address this.”

Suddenly raising his voice, Ishikawa Bingo leaned forward from his seat.

“Though your command remains incomplete, I shall humbly accompany you to Shinano!” “I must resolutely decline the castle guard duty.” “Even one such as Echizen must beg exemption from this guardianship.” Nagao Echizen declared he would not be left behind. Then those seated in rows clamored “Myself too! Myself too!”, insisting they join the deployment while refusing guard duty. For this was a battle resolved as decisive—whether for good or ill—and none could bear absence from this clash. All puffed out their chests and arms, shouting vehement abuse.

Terutora remained silent. Because he remained silent for so long, the retainers gradually quieted down until finally all fell completely still. Thereupon, Terutora looked around the assembly once more and declared in a voice clear enough to pierce through stone: "I will not name anyone." "But someone must guard this castle." "Who will do it?" “……I shall undertake it.”

Someone answered quietly. Everyone turned in unison to look at the source of the voice. It was one of the four senior retainers—Chisaka Tsushima Kiyotane. Then, the assembled people all made expressions as if to say, “Ah, so it’s Lord Chisaka Tsushima,” and exchanged nods with one another eye to eye. “So Tsushima has taken it on… Then the matter of the castle guard is settled.”

Terutora stood up from his seat after saying that. The people had disliked the idea of becoming castle guards from the start. Yet precisely because Chisaka Tsushima voluntarily took on this duty, they clearly felt a kind of contempt. However, this did not mean Tsushima was a coward who shunned battle. The samurai of that era spoke of participating in battle as "earning their keep"—the notion of shunning the battlefield out of cowardice was unthinkable. Now, as for why people felt contempt toward Chisaka Tsushima—no—there was no time to explain it here.

With the military council at Kasugayama Castle concluded and Chisaka Tsushima having returned to his residence, let us continue the story there.

Shortly after Kiyotane returned to his residence, his eldest son Michitane entered with an intensely agitated expression. He had been sickly since birth and was twenty-three years old; his pale, small frame made him appear very fragile, yet his brow and the set of his lips revealed an indomitable character. [...] Having quietly taken his seat, Michitane raised his sharp eyes and fixed them unwaveringly upon his father.

“Father, is it true that you requested to be castle guard for His Lordship’s fourth deployment?” “...What of it?” “Father—I wish to know whether you yourself desired to take up the role of castle guard.” “Was it by His Lordship’s command, or did you yourself desire it?” Kiyotane silently looked at his son’s eyes. Michitane glared back at his father’s eyes as if to pierce them. For that brief moment, father and son glared at each other like sworn enemies. ……Yet eventually, Kiyotane quietly answered.

“The role of castle guard—I myself requested it from His Lordship and took it on.” “Are you saying you object to that?”

II

“Father!” Michitane’s face paled abruptly while,

“Are you aware of how the world speaks of this Chisaka clan?” “If you knew, what would you do?” “They say Chisaka is a smooth-talking samurai who doesn’t go to battle but earns his keep guarding the castle—are you aware of this?”

“…………” “Knowing that, did you still wish to take up the role of castle guard this time as well?”

Chisaka Tsushima had accompanied the deployment to Shinano during the first campaign. Though he had gone out to Kawanakajima, he was positioned in the rear guard and was mainly tasked with overseeing the military supplies. In an era where battlefield achievements determined a person’s worth, it was only natural that a role like overseeing military supplies would be looked down upon. Moreover, Chisaka Tsushima had always excelled in economic management skills, and his private life bordered on outright stinginess—so thoroughly that he subsisted on barnyard millet as his staple food, consuming nothing but roasted miso and pickled vegetables.

Thus, when he oversaw military supplies, they said, “Lord Chisaka Tsushima earned his keep with an abacus,” and when he served as castle guard two or three times in a row, rumors spread like, “Rather than taking a couple of helmeted heads, Lord Chisaka Tsushima earns two thousand koku through castle duty.” "Rumors in the world do reach my ears." “As the saying goes, you cannot put doors on people’s mouths; even the shogun is spoken ill of behind his back by everyone.” “Let those who wish to speak say what they will.” “Even if you pile up ten thousand words, you cannot kill a single fly.”

“I understand.” “However, please realize that words which cannot kill even a single fly may at times possess the power to kill people.” “Father may be satisfied with that—but I refuse! I will accompany His Lordship’s deployment.” “...I won’t allow it.” “I will not wait for your permission.” “I shall depart for Shinano.” “You will remain with your father—I forbid it!” “No! Even were I disowned—this time I shall deploy! Forgive me!”

Having declared his intent, as Michitane tried to rise, Kiyotane raised his foot and stamped down on the hem of his son’s hakama with a thud to stop him.

“I won’t allow it, Michitane! You are the eldest son of the Chisaka family.” “If I, your father, say I won’t allow it, you cannot move.” “I accepted this duty only because none but me could secure the castle’s defense—whether fighting on the battlefield or guarding these walls steadfastly, both are equal service for a samurai.” “Do not waver!” Michitane sat frozen while trembling, but eventually stood up dejectedly and left for his room.

Almost simultaneously, five guests came to visit. Relatives within the clan who acted as intermediaries gathered, and their business was indeed about the castle guard role. [...] They too denounced Kiyotane’s failings in unison. They even proclaimed that it concerned the honor of the entire clan. Michitane was listening intently to the voices of abuse coming from the guest room but eventually went down to back, led out his horse, and left residence.

It appeared that preparations for deployment had already begun, and a lively commotion filled every crossroads. He raced through the streets with a hunted air, but upon reaching Ishikawa Bingo’s residence, he dismounted his horse. ……There too, servants and retainers were scurrying about. Bundles of arms and towering piles of provisions were stacked here and there, while in the garden, where dusk was deepening, bonfires burned brightly.

“Ah, young Chisaka! You’ve come, have you?” Ishikawa Bingo Tamemoto, gnawing at his beard that was begun to show white and already clad in armor, strode into the guest room with large steps. “As you can see, things are scattered about.” “Have you come because of some urgent business or something?” “I have come to make an impudent request.” “I see. You’re saying I should take you to Shinano—that’s it, isn’t it?” “No, that is not the case.”

Michitane abruptly raised his pale forehead and said. “Regarding the engagement between Lady Kikue and myself—which I humbly arranged with our parents some time ago... I wish to request its annulment for the time being...” Tamemoto’s eyes flared with a sharp gleam. “Why? What reason compels you to demand this annulment?” “Explain yourself.”

“I cannot disclose the details.” “However, as my own decision, I humbly request that the engagement with Lady Kikue be annulled without fail.” “I see… I see.”

Tamemoto’s eyebrows twisted fiercely. “If you say you cannot tell, then I will not ask. However, that must be a matter Lord Tsushima is already aware of, I suppose.”

“No—it is my own decision.” “Though it is my own decision, since I myself—the very one who would take a wife—am refusing, I believe there can be absolutely no falsehood in this.”

“Very well. I accept the annulment.”

Having declared this in a rough voice, Tamemoto stood up as if stomping through the floorboards. “Is that all you came for?” “Yes.” “You’ve made a fine parting gift for my daughter on this deployment.” “You weren’t half as clever as I’d taken you for.” Beneath this thrown voice, Michitane kept his head bowed low.

Three

Almost the entire army in tow, as Terutora advanced into Shinano, in the name of Chisaka Tsushima—samurai households possessing stored rice were to submit every last grain to the castle storehouse within three days. Those who disobeyed would be strictly dealt with.

A notice was circulated. And from that day onward, members of the Chisaka family went around to each residence, sternly enforcing the transportation of all stored rice into the castle. At that time, securing supply routes stood as the most crucial element when dispatching an expeditionary force. Though military supplies advanced with the army, this alone could not sustain all wartime needs. Weapons, provisions, medicines—these required constant resupply from the rear. As previously noted, four consecutive battles against the Takeda had left the domain's people thoroughly exhausted; thus seizing the samurai households' stored rice under castle guard held logical necessity. Yet the decree to leave "not a single grain" proved merciless.

People, above all else, "It’s about time Lord Tsushima started making his move." they harbored the suspicion that...

After storing all reserved rice in the castle storehouse, they proceeded to inspect each household's family members and decided to divide out approximately half the usual peacetime rice quantity into daily rations for distribution. This too came with a strict instruction: "The rice must be mixed with vegetables and consumed as gruel." Women and children were summoned into the castle and ordered to craft arrow shafts and maintain weaponry. No such precedent had ever existed before. Furthermore, the five hundred soldiers remaining as castle guards were dispatched daily in alternating groups to cultivate wasteland along the banks of the Yashiro River.

Discontent arose from there.

"We were left behind to guard the castle—they never ordered us to become farmers!" "First of all, what do they intend to accomplish by reclaiming wasteland in the midst of this campaign?" "Do they mean to plant rice here and use it as provisions for this autumn?" "Lord Tsushima’s arbitrariness has gone too far!" Once complaints were voiced, they suddenly began to spread one after another.

However, Tsushima Kiyotane did not flinch. As if he had long anticipated such ill repute, he enforced the newly proclaimed ordinances with unyielding rigor, sparing neither women nor children.

Michitane voluntarily joined the ranks of the five hundred soldiers. He was in the very midst of the bad reputation surrounding his father, swinging hoes alongside the soldiers and silently working to reclaim the wasteland. ……Everyone deliberately made sure Michitane could hear as they repeatedly denounced Chisaka Tsushima’s arbitrariness and listed his unlawful acts. However, no matter what was said, Michitane did not offer half a word of explanation. It felt as though he were being made to bear the world’s scourge in his father’s stead.

Even when returning home, he did not speak with his father. Kiyotane too seemed to avoid his own child. Whenever their eyes happened to meet, Michitane would direct a gaze that seemed to pierce through his father.... Within him lingered, vivid as ever, the words his father had spoken that day. "Both serving before the warhorses on the battlefield and guarding the castle are but one in a warrior’s duty."

Father had clearly said so. "It was because none but I could secure the castle’s defense that I took on this duty." He had also said that. Those words were what held Michitane here. While being confronted by five kinsmen, it was the attitude of calmly taking on the role of castle guard without wavering that stopped Michitane’s attempt to slip away to the battlefield. However, Father’s methods were more arbitrary than he had anticipated. He confiscated every last grain of stored rice, kept women and children within the castle to make arrow bamboo and maintain arms. Moreover, forcing five hundred castle soldiers to reclaim the wasteland along the Yashiro River—all of it could only be seen as an unnecessary abuse of the castle lord’s authority.

"Were those words from that time merely Father’s glib talk after all? Was it true what they said about 'profiting from the castle guard'?" Michitane regretted not having slipped away to the battlefield, drawn by his father’s words. And he had resolved in his heart to do everything he could to atone for his father.

In mid-August, on a certain day, Michitane, having gone up to the castle, was called out to by an unexpected person in the second bailey. “Lord Chisaka… If… Lord Chisaka.”

When he turned around at the voice of someone approaching with hurried footsteps, it was Kikue, daughter of Ishikawa Bingo. Kikue was a fair-skinned girl with a softly rounded frame, her eyes always holding a warm smile. Two years prior, there had been an engagement arrangement, but unable to endure his father’s bad reputation, Michitane had terminated it himself. There had been feelings of rebellion toward his father, but more strongly, he could no longer bear dragging Kikue into that bad reputation. Since then, today was the first time they had met.

IV

“I must apologize for stopping you in such an improper place.” The girl’s eyes reddened as she looked up at Michitane as if dazzled and spoke. “I humbly wish to request your intercession.” “...What is the matter?”

Michitane lowered his eyes and bowed his head like a man being punished. In the girl’s warm eyes tinged a gentle hue of compassion that understood the man’s heart well. “As you are aware, many of us women and children have been staying in the castle under the decree for some time now, making arrow bamboo and maintaining arms, yet there remain many who have not once been permitted to return to their residences.” “It must be quite inconvenient for you.”

“Though we can endure any hardship given this wartime situation—since the arms maintenance is finished and arrow bamboo can be made even from our homes—I humbly beg you to let us withdraw from the castle.” “Then instead of relaying through me, you should present your appeal directly to those in charge.” “But... we’ve already petitioned them many times... Lord Castellan refuses to grant permission.”

Michitane gasped in surprise.

Here too—Father. When he thought that，he felt his body stiffen with shame.

“I see. Then I will speak to him at once.” “I deeply apologize for making such a troublesome request.” Fleeing from the girl’s eyes that seemed to want to say something more, Michitane entered the mansion. After being kept waiting for some time, he was ushered into his father’s presence and immediately relayed Kikue’s request. Kiyotane had been listening in silence with an unhappy frown, but the moment Michitane finished speaking, he flatly declared, “No.”

“Why isn’t it permitted? If it’s merely making arrow bamboo, I believe it could be done even if we return to our residences.” “Regardless of circumstances, this lies beyond your jurisdiction.” “Meddling in such affairs exceeds your authority.” “Dismissed!” “Father—while respecting your words—today there is something I must say.” “Have you ever considered how your arbitrary exercise of the Castle Lord’s authority torments those entrusted to this garrison?” “You once declared, ‘The castle’s defense rests solely with me.’” “You proclaimed that ‘service knows no distinction between battlefield and stronghold’—were those words merely expedient lies to manipulate me?”

“Say everything you want to say—I’ll listen to it all. Go on—try saying more.”

“Allow me to say one final thing: Michitane will depart for Shinano. There, at least before my lord’s steed, I shall lay down my corpse and atone for the Chisaka family name.” “I shall no longer seek audience with you.” “One who can die when they wish to die is fortunate.” “Do as you will.”

Michitane kicked away his seat and stood up.

Having returned to the residence, he summoned the servant Fujishichirō and ordered him to accompany him to Shinano, then immediately began preparing for deployment. He had no intention of returning alive; there was only one path—to die honorably on the battlefield. After paying farewell respects at his ancestors’ graves, he departed for Shinano along the afternoon road, braving the light rain that had just begun to fall… The rain only grew heavier, but wanting to cover as much ground as possible, he urged his horse onward. By the time he approached Hashida Village, darkness had fallen completely. Then, just as he was about to pass through the village—

—Ah!

A cry rose from the people as they came rushing out in disarray toward the middle of the road. When he looked, seven or eight farmers—each holding tools in their hands—were cornering a man who appeared to be a traveling merchant. Michitane quickly spurred his horse forward, “Wait! What are you doing?” he shouted while leaping down to stop them. The farmers all turned around—likely taking him for someone from Kasugayama Castle—and one of the older men among them stepped forward,

“You’ve come at an opportune moment.” “We’ve just driven out a suspicious fellow from here.”

“A suspicious guy… That man?” “Yes, he claimed to be a hemp-selling merchant and had been loitering along this highway for several days now, but since he kept asking about Kasugayama Castle’s state of affairs, we were certain he was a spy.”

“No! No! Th-that’s not true!”

The traveling man shouted desperately. “I am a hemp seller from Ōmi—this is my first time coming to this land, but I frequently visit Oguri for business.” “I am absolutely not some suspicious spy or anything of the sort!”

“There, there—no need for such commotion.” Michitane stared fixedly at the man’s demeanor while,

“Whether you’re a spy or not will be clear once we investigate. Step forward.”

Five

“Absolutely—absolutely—I am not suspicious,” the man pleaded desperately. “I beg your forgiveness.” “I’m not calling you suspicious,” Michitane countered coldly. “Just step forward for an investigation.” “Yes—yes—here I am,” the man stammered as he complied. The instant he moved forward, steel flashed in his right hand—a blade lunging straight for Michitane’s heart with his full weight behind it. A collective gasp erupted from the crowd. It was a masterful strike targeting his undefended flank. Yet by a hair’s breadth, Michitane twisted aside. Then came his counter—a draw-cut slashing upward through the attacker’s spine before whipping back to cut through his thigh.

The man let out a scream and collapsed. And as he collapsed to the ground, he thrust a hand into his hair, pulled out something resembling a white scrap of paper, tore it to shreds and discarded it, then pitched forward completely.

Michitane instantly rushed over, picked up the scraps of paper the man had torn and discarded, moved away from the crowd, entered the shade of a giant cedar tree by the roadside, and hastily tried to piece the scraps together. Since they had been torn by dying hands, he didn’t need much time to piece them together. He skimmed through the characters written on the scraps of paper in the twilight, but suddenly his complexion changed, and he let out a low exclamation from within his mouth. He abruptly turned around, “Fujishichirō—is that man still breathing?”

“No, he had already stopped breathing.” “Damn it!”

Michitane groaned, “Alright—I’ll return to the castle. You handle the aftermath here.” With that, he leapt onto his horse and galloped full tilt toward the castle town. His father had just withdrawn to the residence. As Michitane circled from the garden to the veranda, Kiyotane stood poised to enter the living room. He strode forward and whispered urgently, “Father—this is a grave matter.” Kiyotane shot him a sharp glance but, seeing the paper scrap his son proffered, silently took it and stepped into the room.

Under the lamplight, on the scrap of paper placed there, the following text had been written. (—As previously agreed, we confirm our firm understanding regarding Lord Oikoshi’s matter of raising your banner. Troops and military supplies shall be delivered by the latter half of this month. Moreover, we have taken care to ensure no discrepancies exist in the details of our secret plans. Odawara) "The term 'Lord Oikoshi' refers to Nagao Yoshikage, Uesugi Terutora’s brother-in-law, who currently holds power as lord of Oikoshi Castle within the Uesugi faction." "The term ‘Odawara’ undoubtedly refers to Hōjō Ujizane." In other words, the document was a secret letter exchanged between the Hōjō clan and Nagao Yoshikage, signifying that the Hōjō clan would support Yoshikage’s rebellion.

“Father… What do you make of this secret letter?” Michitane stared fixedly at his father’s expression while briefly recounting the incident at Hashida. Kiyotane silently lit the scrap of paper with the candle’s flame, then said quietly as he watched the flames rise.

“Has anyone else besides you seen this document?” “I was the only one who read it.”

“I see.”

Kiyotane nodded deeply, then spoke in a quiet, low tone. “This marks the third time secret letters between Lord Oikoshi and Odawara have come into my hands.” “This is the third time, you say?” “Whether this is a scheme by Hōjō of Odawara’s expendable spies—those meant to be killed—or whether Lord Oikoshi truly plots rebellion, such secret letters have frequently come into my hands since just before our lord’s recent deployment… If it’s the work of Hōjō’s spies, it concerns a cunning plot to divide the Uesugi clan. If it’s Lord Oikoshi’s rebellion, then the period of our lord’s absence becomes critical… In either case, since this must not become publicly known, I’ve kept it sealed within my heart alone until today and done all I could.”

“Father…”

“There was no need to develop the Yashiro River wasteland.” “It was merely a precaution in case of Lord Oikoshi’s surprise attack.” “The confiscation of the stored rice and keeping the women and children in the castle—all of it was preparation for that very contingency.” Kiyotane said, drawing a low breath.

“Had I explained the particulars, none would have complained—…but voicing this reason would have split the Uesugi clan asunder and shaken our retainers’ resolve.” “To prevent turmoil among the people while preparing for calamity, I—ever unpopular—assumed guardianship of this castle. I cloaked myself in tyranny’s guise to safeguard what mattered most.” “Father… Forgive me.” Michitane sank to the garden stones, his plea rising through stifled tears.

“Michitane was a fool. Please forgive me, Father! I beg you to forgive me!” Kiyotane listened intently to his child’s choked voice. The hearts of father and child—long estranged—now felt as though they touched perfectly, with not even a paper’s thickness separating them.

“If you understand, that’s all that matters.”

“…………”

“Shall I go to Ishikawa tomorrow and rescind the annulled engagement?” “Yes—there remains no means for me to offer apology now.”

“There is no need to apologize.” “I must continue to endure Father’s bad reputation… until our lord’s triumphant return.”

What ill repute could he possibly fear now?

Before Michitane, a path filled with light had opened up. Even if the world showered them with slander and vilification, the God of Bow and Arrow would surely bear witness to the Chisaka father and son's sincere hearts.

“Father, Michitane will go to Lord Ishikawa tomorrow.”

He said that, raised his head high, and stood up forcefully.