Pathway to Japanese Literature

I “Three times have I crossed spears with Harunobu of Kai. Once, with my own blade, I drove Harunobu into mortal peril—yet failed to strike the final blow. A regret that gnaws at me still.” Uesugi Terutora swept his piercing gaze across the assembled retainers, then snapped his fan against the knee of his armor-clad hitatare with a sharp crack.

“But this time—this time we must decide the outcome.” “The people’s strength has waned under unrelenting battles, and the soldiers too have grown weary.” “If we prolong our standoff with Kai needlessly, we must anticipate unforeseen calamity arising from within our very midst.” “For better or worse, this time—this time is the moment of decisive battle. This time—this time we will settle victory and defeat!”

His voice shook the hall’s four walls and resounded throughout. In July of the third year of Kōji (1557), within Kasugayama Castle in Echigo Province, a war council was convened with their lord Uesugi Kenshin presiding to discuss the expedition to Shinano. Those gathered were Uesugi’s four chief retainers—Nagao Echizen Masakage, Ishikawa Bingo Tamemoto, Saitō Shimotsuke Tomonobu, and Chisaka Tsushima Kiyotane—alongside those called the Twenty-Five Generals and lower-ranking vassals. …There is no need to recount here in detail the longstanding feud between Uesugi and Takeda. The conflict between the Uesugi and Takeda clans known as the “Battle of Kawanakajima” had been repeated over a span of more than ten years from Tenmon 22 (1553) to Eiroku 7 (1564), and they now faced its fourth occurrence.

“Therefore, this time I have decided: the entire army shall advance.” Terutora continued. “For Castle Guardian Duty: one commander and five hundred soldiers. The remainder shall march in full force to Shinano.” “Therefore, the matter of who shall assume Castle Guardian Duty—” “I must object.” Suddenly raising his voice, Ishikawa Bingo leaned forward in his seat. “Though you have not yet finished speaking, I shall accompany you to Shinano!” “I must firmly decline the role of Castle Guardian.” “Even Echizen here must beg to decline the role of Castle Guardian.”

Nagao Echizen declared he would not be left behind. Then, following suit, the assembled retainers clamored to join the expedition one after another, declaring their refusal of Castle Guardian Duty. After all, this was a battle they had resolved to make decisive for better or worse—no one could afford to be absent from this clash. Everyone puffed out their chests and shouted vehemently, hurling insults.

Terutora remained silent. Because he remained silent for so long, the people gradually quieted down until finally all sound was hushed. Thereupon Terutora surveyed the assembly once more and declared in a clear, penetrating voice: “I will not name anyone.” “However, someone must take up Castle Guardian Duty.” “Who will do it?” “...I shall humbly accept.”

Someone answered quietly. Everyone let out a collective gasp and turned toward the source of the voice. That was one of the four chief retainers—Chisaka Tsushima Kiyotane. At this, all those seated in rows made identical expressions that seemed to say Ah—so it’s Lord Chisaka, then—nodding to each other with their eyes. “I see. So Tsushima has taken it upon himself. Then the matter of the Castle Guardian is settled.” With those words, Terutora rose from his seat. People had detested the idea of being assigned Castle Guardian Duty from the very start. Yet when Chisaka Tsushima voluntarily assumed it himself, they clearly felt a kind of contempt. This did not mean they thought Tsushima a coward who shunned battle. The samurai of that era considered participating in battle as “earning their keep”—the notion of avoiding the battlefield out of timidity was inconceivable. Now, as for why people felt contempt toward Chisaka Tsushima—...no, there is no time to explain it here.

With the war council at Kasugayama Castle concluded, let us continue our story as Chisaka Tsushima returns to his residence.

Shortly after Kiyotane returned to his residence, his eldest son Tsugutane entered with a severely agitated expression. He had been sickly since birth—at twenty-three years old, his pale and petite frame appeared thoroughly frail, yet an unyielding character manifested in his brow and the set of his lips. [...] Having seated himself quietly, Tsugutane raised those sharp eyes and fixed them intently upon his father. “Father, is it true you requested Castle Guardian Duty for His Lordship’s fourth expedition?”

“...What of it?” “I wish to ascertain whether you yourself desired the Castle Guardian Duty. Was it by His Lordship’s command, or did you yourself desire it?” Kiyotane silently looked into his son’s eyes. Tsugutane stared back as if to pierce his father’s gaze. For that instant, father and son glared at each other like sworn enemies. ...Yet after a moment, Kiyotane quietly responded.

“I requested Castle Guardian Duty from His Lordship myself and accepted it. Are you saying you object to that?”

II

“Father!”

Tsugutane’s face paled abruptly as he— “Do you know how people are disparaging our Chisaka family in society?” “What would you have me do if I did?” “Are you aware they say, ‘The Chisaka are silver-tongued samurai—earning their keep through castle guardianship rather than battlefield deeds’?”

“……” “Knowing that full well, did you still desire Castle Guardian Duty this time as well?”

Chisaka Tsushima had accompanied the expedition to Shinano during its first instance. Although he had indeed gone to Kawanakajima, he found himself positioned in the rear, primarily tasked with overseeing military supplies. In an era where battlefield achievements determined a person’s worth, it was only natural that such roles as overseeing military supplies were looked down upon. Above all, Chisaka Tsushima had always excelled in economic management; his private life bordered on miserliness—rigorously sustained by millet as his staple food and eating nothing but roasted miso and pickled vegetables.

Thus, when he oversaw military supplies, people jeered, “Lord Chisaka earns his keep with an abacus.” And when he served as Castle Guardian twice, thrice in succession, a reputation took root: “Rather than two or three helmeted trophies, Lord Chisaka reaps two thousand *koku* through Castle Guardian Duty.” “The world’s whispers do reach even my ears.” “As the saying goes—no door bars men’s tongues. All slander even the shogun in shadows.” “Let those who itch to speak scratch their throats raw.” “Ten thousand words piled high couldn’t crush a fly.”

“I understand perfectly.” “However, please realize that words which cannot kill even a single fly may sometimes possess the power to kill people.” “Father，you may be satisfied with that，but I am not．Tsugutane will humbly accompany the expedition．” “...I forbid it．” “I will not wait for your permission．” “I will go to Shinano．” “...I forbid it．You will remain here with your father．” “No—even if I must face your disownment，this time I will join the expedition．I refuse．”

Having declared his intent, as Tsugutane tried to stand, Kiyotane raised his foot and stomped down on the hem of his hakama to stop him. “I will not allow it, Tsugutane! You are the eldest son of the Chisaka family.” “If I, your father, forbid it, you shall not move.” “I accepted this duty solely because none but I can secure the castle in His Lordship’s absence. Whether serving through valor on the battlefield or through steadfast guardianship of this castle—both are equal paths in a samurai’s duty.” “Do not falter!” Tsugutane trembled motionless beneath this restraint, then finally rose dejectedly and withdrew to his room.

Almost simultaneously with his departure, five guests arrived. The relatives had gathered their mediators, and the matter at hand was indeed the Castle Guardian Duty. [...] They too denounced Kiyotane’s failings in unison. They proclaimed that it even concerned the honor of the entire kinship. Tsugutane listened intently to the voices of reproach coming from the guest room, but eventually descended to the rear, led out a horse, and left the residence.

It seemed preparations for departure had already begun, and a lively commotion filled every crossroad. He galloped through the streets with a hunted air, but upon reaching Ishikawa Bingo’s residence, he dismounted. …There too, servants and retainers were bustling around. Bundles of military equipment and piles of provisions were heaped here and there, while in the garden where dusk was deepening, bonfires blazed crimson. “Ah, young Chisaka! You’ve come.”

Ishikawa Bingo Tamemoto, his beard beginning to show white strands clenched between his teeth, entered the guest room in full armor with long strides. “As you can see, everything’s laid out here.” “Have you come on some urgent business?” “I have come to make a presumptuous request.” “I see. You’re saying I should take you to Shinano—is that right?” “No, that’s not it.”

Tsugutane abruptly raised his pale forehead and said. "Regarding the betrothal between Lady Kikue and myself that was humbly agreed upon between our parents some time ago... I wish to request that it be annulled for the time being..." Tamemoto's eyes glinted sharply. "Why is that? What particulars lead you to demand annulment?" "Let me hear your reason."

“I cannot disclose the particulars.” “However, as my own decision, I earnestly request that the betrothal with Lady Kikue be nullified.”

“I see… I see.”

Tamemoto’s eyebrows twisted fiercely. “If you say you cannot speak of it, then I shall not ask.” “But I suppose Lord Tsushima is already aware of that as well.” “No—it is my sole decision.” “It is my sole decision—but since I am the one taking a wife, and since it is I myself who humbly decline, there can assuredly be no falsehood in this.” “Very well. I formally acknowledge the annulment.”

Declaring in a harsh voice, Tamemoto stood as though stamping through the floorboards.

“Is that all the business you have to discuss?” “Yes.” “On the eve of departure for battle, I’ve made a fine parting gift for my daughter. You were not as clever as I had thought.” Beneath the voice hurled like a stone, Tsugutane merely hung his head low.

III

Almost the entire army in tow, as soon as Terutora advanced to Shinano, in the name of Chisaka Tsushima—a decree was issued: “All samurai households with stored rice must surrender every last grain to the castle granary within three days.” Those who defy this order shall face certain punishment. A proclamation to this effect was circulated. And from that day onward, members of the Chisaka family went around to every residence, relentlessly pressing them until all stored rice was transported into the castle.

…At that time, securing supply routes had been the most critical matter when dispatching an expeditionary army. Military supplies advanced with the troops, yet they could not sustain an entire battle. Weapons, provisions, medical supplies—all needed constant resupply from the rear. As previously noted, particularly since clashes with the Takeda clan had already stretched to four consecutive battles and the domain’s people were thoroughly exhausted, it came as little surprise that samurai households in the castle town had their stored rice requisitioned. Yet "not a single grain left" proved merciless.

Above all else, people first and foremost harbored suspicions: "It’s about time Lord Chisaka began his profiteering." After thus depositing all stored rice into the castle granary, they investigated each household’s family members and began dividing the rice into daily rations—roughly half the usual peacetime amount—to be distributed each day. This too came with a stern directive: "Vegetables must be mixed in and consumed as rice gruel."

Women and children entered the castle interior and were ordered to make arrow shafts and maintain weapons. There had never been such a precedent before. And the five hundred soldiers left behind as Castle Guardians were sent out daily in alternating shifts to reclaim wasteland along the banks of the Yashiro River. The discontent arose from there. “We were left behind to guard the castle—we weren’t ordered to play farmers!” “First of all—what do they intend to achieve by reclaiming wasteland in the midst of this battle? What—planning to plant rice here and make it this autumn’s provisions or something?”

—Lord Chisaka’s tyranny has gone too far.

Once a single complaint was voiced, the discontent abruptly began spreading from one to the next. Chisaka Kiyotane, however, did not flinch. As if declaring that such slander was exactly what he had anticipated, he strictly enforced every article of his decrees, showing no mercy even toward women and children. Tsugutane voluntarily joined the ranks of the five hundred soldiers. He remained amidst the storm of criticism against his father, swinging hoes alongside the soldiers as he silently reclaimed the wasteland. ……They made sure Tsugutane could hear them, incessantly proclaiming Tsushima’s tyranny and enumerating his transgressions. Yet no matter what was said, Tsugutane did not offer half a word of explanation. It felt as though he were being struck by the world’s lash in his father’s stead.

Even when he returned home, he did not speak to his father. Kiyotane, too, seemed to be avoiding his own son. When their eyes occasionally met, Tsugutane directed a piercing gaze at his father… In his chest, the words his father had spoken that day remained vividly etched.

“Service on the battlefield and guarding an empty castle are not separate duties in a samurai’s service.” Father had declared this plainly. “Only I can properly secure this castle in absence—that is why I accepted this duty.” Those words alone had held Tsugutane back. Even as five relatives confronted him, it was Father’s unshaken composure—voluntarily taking the scorned guardianship role—that stayed Tsugutane’s feet from fleeing to the frontlines. Yet Father’s methods grew more despotic than imagined. He stripped every granary bare, confined women and children within castle walls to craft arrow shafts and tend armor. Forcing five hundred garrison soldiers to till wasteland along the Yashiro’s banks—all measures that could only be called wanton abuses of a castellan’s power.

Were those words Father spoke back then nothing more than glib talk after all? Was the talk of "profiteering through castle guardianship" actually true?

Tsugutane had been swayed by his father’s words and now regretted not having slipped away to the battlefield. And he had resolved to do everything he could to atone for his father’s actions. On a certain day in mid-August, Tsugutane, who had come up to the castle, was stopped by an unexpected person in the Ninomaru. “Lord Chisaka… Lord Chisaka.”

When he turned around at the sound of someone chasing after him with quick steps, it was Ishikawa Bingo’s daughter Kikue. Kikue was a fair-skinned girl with a softly rounded figure who always had a warm smile in her eyes. Two years prior, there had been a marriage arrangement, but unable to endure his father’s infamy, Tsugutane himself had broken off the engagement. It was partly out of rebellious feelings toward his father, but more strongly because he could no longer bear to drag Kikue into that disgrace. This was their first meeting since then.

Four “I must apologize for stopping you in such a place—it is truly discourteous of me.” The girl’s eyes were red as she squinted up at Tsugutane as if dazzled and spoke. “I have a matter for which I must humbly request your intercession.” “……What is this about?” Tsugutane lowered his eyes and bowed his head like a man being punished. In the girl’s warm eyes lingered a gentle look of compassion that understood the man’s heart well.

“As you know, many of us women and children have been confined within the castle by decree for some time now—making arrow shafts and tending to weapons—yet there remain many who have not once been allowed to return to their homes.” “You must be enduring great hardship.” “Though we would bear any inconvenience given the battle’s urgency—the weapon maintenance is finished, and arrow-making can continue at our residences—I humbly beg permission for us to withdraw from the castle.”

“In that case, rather than having me convey it, I believe it would be better for you to make your request directly to the officials in charge.” “Well... We have already made repeated requests, but... Lord Castellan simply will not grant permission.”

Tsugutane gasped sharply.

Here too—Father again. The thought made him feel as though his body would freeze up from shame. “I see. Then I will try speaking to them immediately.” “I must apologize for this burdensome request.” From the girl’s eyes that seemed to want to say something more, Tsugutane fled into the mansion as if escaping. After being made to wait for some time, he was shown before his father and immediately conveyed Kikue’s request. …Kiyotane listened in silence with a sullen frown, but the moment Tsugutane’s words ended, he said flatly, “No.”

“Why isn’t this permitted? If they can make arrow shafts at their residences, I see no reason to keep them confined here.” “This matter lies beyond your jurisdiction—no matter the circumstances.” “Relaying such petitions breaches all propriety.” “Leave.” “Father—with utmost respect—I must speak plainly today.” “Have you ever reflected on how your arbitrary exercise of the Castellan’s authority torments those under your charge?” “You once declared, ‘None but I can secure this garrison.’” “You proclaimed that ‘service knows no division between battlefield and garrison’—were those words mere sophistry to manipulate me?”

“Speak your fill—I’ll hear what I must hear. Say more if you dare.” “I will say one last thing: I, Tsugutane, shall depart for Shinano. At the very least, I will lay my corpse before our lord’s steed and make amends for the Chisaka name.” “I shall no longer seek audience with you.” “Those who can die when they wish are fortunate.” “Do as you please.”

Tsugutane kicked his seat and stood up. Upon returning to his residence, he summoned his attendant Fujishichirō and ordered him to accompany him to Shinano, then immediately prepared for departure to the front. He had no intention of returning alive—there was but one path: to die honorably on the battlefield. After paying his final respects at his ancestors’ graves, he set out 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 neared Hashida Village, dusk had deepened into full nightfall. Just then, as he was about to pass through that village—

――Ah!

A shout went up from the people, and they came scattering out into the middle of the road. Looking closer, seven or eight farmers, each clutching tools in their hands, were cornering a man who appeared to be a traveling merchant. Tsugutane swiftly urged his horse forward,

“Hey, wait! What do you think you’re doing?” he called out while jumping down to restrain them. The farmers all turned around at once—likely recognizing him as someone from Kasugayama Castle—and from among them, one of the older men stepped forward, “You’ve arrived at just the right moment, sir.” “We have just driven out a suspicious fellow from here.” “Suspicious fellow… That man?” “Yes, he claimed to be a hemp seller and had been prowling this highway for several days now, but since he kept asking about Kasugayama Castle’s affairs, we were certain he was a spy.”

“N-no! Th-that’s not it!” The traveling man shouted desperately.

“I am a hemp seller from Ōmi. Though this is my first time visiting this area, I regularly come to Oguri for business.” “I swear I’m no suspicious spy or anything of the sort!” “Enough—there’s no cause for this uproar.” Tsugutane kept his eyes locked on the man as he observed him— “Whether you’re a spy or not will be determined through investigation. Step forward.”

Five “I am absolutely, absolutely not a suspicious person. I humbly beg your mercy.” “I do not say you are suspicious. It’s merely an investigation—that’s why I’m telling you to step forward.” “Yes, yes—here I am.” The moment he said this and stepped forward, a blade glinted in the man’s right hand as he lunged bodily at Tsugutane. Everyone let out a startled “Ah!” It was precisely a strike aimed at an opening. Yet by the narrowest margin, the blade was evaded. And Tsugutane—dodging right while unleashing a sudden draw-cut—instead cleaved deeply through the man’s spine, then with a return stroke slashed his thigh.

The man let out a scream and collapsed. And as he collapsed to the ground, he plunged one hand into his hair, pulled out something resembling a white scrap of paper, tore it to shreds and discarded it, then crumpled forward heavily. Tsugutane 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 massive cedar tree by the roadside, and swiftly tried to piece the fragments together. Since it had been torn by a dying hand, piecing it together did not take much time. In the twilight, he skimmed through the characters written on the scraps of paper, but suddenly his complexion changed, and he let out a low, stifled gasp. He abruptly turned around,

“Fujishichirō, is that man still breathing?” “No, he has already stopped breathing.” “Damn it!” Tsugutane groaned out, but— “Alright, I’m returning to the castle. You handle the aftermath here.” No sooner had he said this than Tsugutane leapt onto his horse and sped back toward the castle town.

Father had just retired to his residence. As Tsugutane rounded from the garden onto the wide veranda, Kiyotane was just about to enter the living room. He strode briskly closer and, lowering his voice, said, “A grave matter has arisen.” Kiyotane turned his piercing gaze toward him but, upon seeing the paper his son was holding out, silently took it and entered the room.

On the scrap of paper placed under the lamplight was inscribed the following text. (—As previously agreed, we hereby confirm Lord Oe’s uprising shall proceed without fail. Reinforcements and arms shall be delivered by the end of this month. All details of the secret scheme shall remain unchanged, which we solemnly affirm. Odawara.) "Lord Oe" referred to Nagao Yoshikage, Uesugi Terutora’s brother-in-law, who currently held power as lord of Oe Castle within the Uesugi faction. “Odawara” undoubtedly referred to Hōjō Ujizane. In other words, the document was a secret letter exchanged between the Hōjō clan and Nagao Yoshikage, signifying that the Hōjō would support Yoshikage’s rebellion.

“Father… What do you make of this secret letter?” Tsugutane stared intently into his father’s eyes while tersely recounting the incident at Hashirida. ...Kiyotane silently transferred the candle’s flame to the scrap of paper, then spoke quietly while watching the flames rise.

“Has anyone besides you seen this document?”

“Only I have read it.” “I see.”

Kiyotane nodded deeply, then spoke in a quiet, low tone.

“This marks the third time secret letters between Lord Oe and Odawara have come into my hands.” “Are you saying this is the third time?” “Whether this is the craft of Odawara Hōjō’s sacrificial spies—those who let themselves be slain—or whether Lord Oe truly plots rebellion… Ever since our lord’s departure for the campaign, such secret letters have frequently come into my hands. If it is the work of Hōjō’s sacrificial spies, it concerns a scheme to divide the Uesugi clan. If it is Lord Oe’s rebellion, then our lord’s absence makes this interval critical… In either case, the world must not learn of this. Until today, I have kept it locked in my heart alone and done all I could.”

“Father…” “I never needed to reclaim the wasteland along Yashiro River.” “It was solely preparation against the contingency of Lord Oe’s surprise assault.” “Seizing the stored rice, confining even women and children within the castle—all of it was preparation for that same contingency.”

Kiyotane drew a low breath and said. "If I had explained the details, no one would have complained… However, stating this reason would have caused division within the clan and shaken the retainers’ resolve." “To prevent unrest among the people while preparing for contingencies, I—ever unpopular—assumed guardianship of the castle, cloaked in the guise of tyranny to safeguard what mattered most.” “Father… I beg your forgiveness.” Tsugutane collapsed into a seated position in the garden and spoke through rising tears.

“Tsugutane was a fool.” “Please forgive me, Father—I beg you, please forgive me!”

Kiyotane remained still, listening to his son’s stifled sobs. The hearts of father and son—long estranged—now felt as though not even a paper’s thickness lay between them, fitting together perfectly without obstruction.

“If you understand, that suffices.”

“……” “Shall I go to Ishikawa tomorrow and retract the broken engagement?” “Yes—there remains no way for me to make amends now.”

“There’s no need to apologize.” “We must continue to endure Father’s ill repute… until our lord’s triumphant return.”

What reason remained now to fear any slander? Before Tsugutane stretched a path filled with light. Even should the world shower them with curses and calumny, the gods of archery themselves would bear witness to the Chisaka father and son’s unwavering devotion.

“Father, Tsugutane will go to Lord Bingo tomorrow.” He said this, lifted his head high, and stood up powerfully.