Chapter XX

A pair of gem-children make a pact with righteousness;

A youth only three feet high speaks of his aspirations

Though Shino heard the people in his garden, their voices as they called to him to stop, he wavered not a whit, raising the sword as if to stab quickly; but when he did so, his sinews clenched and his arms went numb, so that he was unable to hasten on to death as he wished. “How galling!” he said, as time and time again he sought to die.

Then the first onrusher reached him, and it was none other than he who had come by previously, Nukasuke. “Oh, my!” was all the man said in his great agitation, as, no doubt afraid of the bare blade, he circled around behind Shino, and then abruptly put his arms around Shino to stay his hands.

Now in front of Shino stood Hikiroku and Kamezasa, who each took hold of one of his arms and held it motionless, saying, “First off, let go of that blade!”

But Shino would not loosen his grip. Instead, he said, “While your countenances are familiar to me, we have never been properly introduced, my lady aunt and her husband. What then have you come here for?”

Kamezasa sniffed back tears as she replied, “Will you be as hard-hearted as your father, to say such things? You are perceptive, though you are but a child: I pray you to discern this for yourself. I am only what I have ever been, a woman, and did not seek to usurp what should accrue to my younger brother. When I heard, through tidings borne on the wind, that both my father and my brother had fallen in battle, I took Lord Hikiroku into our house as an adopted son-in-law, my sole thought being to effect the continuation of our father’s line; then, happily, an estate was bestowed upon him, and he rose to the position of village headman. In none of this, I say, is my husband blameworthy. However, my brother yet lived, and came back to his home village—but with a withered leg. He hated my husband and myself and severed all ties with us in the name of righteousness, completely disregarding the fact that he was in no condition to withstand the rigors of office; it was his own warped heart that made him do it. Harsh I thought my brother, but one does not cut off a finger when it begins to fester. In this matter of the torn rescript, too, I sought with all my heart a way to save him, and his son, from the consequences of their transgression, but it was to no avail: Bansaku has already killed himself, and you have made up your mind to accompany him with a shortsightedness unbecoming one of such tender years. There is no call for you to die. Hear us out, at least.”

To her admonishment Hikiroku added the following, blinking as he spoke. “I regret that I never let Bansaku know of my true feelings while he yet lived. It would set my mind at ease, hated as I am by everybody, if I could at least adopt his son and, by marrying him to my daughter Hamaji, ensure the continuance of his ancestral bloodline. My word, Shino, I wish you might listen. The affair of the rescript represents a transgression of uncommon severity, it is true, but it was the act, after all, of a beast, and now that not only the dog but its master Bansaku, too, has given up his life, there should be no further trouble. And even if accusations were to be leveled against his progeny, I would be able to speak kindly on your behalf. A short time ago Nukasuke came running to me and told me thus-and-such, and though as a relative I have always been cut off from your father, when I heard the tidings of his suicide, I could not—how could I?—think of him in terms of enmity, and so I came to see for myself, and it is only because I came that, all unexpectedly, I was able to keep you from your desperate act. Put away that blade right now.” To Hikiroku’s thoroughgoing speech Nukasuke added his own remonstrations.

Shino listened carefully, thinking to himself, “In my heart I find it hateful that my aunt and her husband deliver such reliable, charitable moral teachings, and without speaking a word about the precious sword. ’Tis all said to deceive me! But these were my father’s final instructions to me—well did he apprehend that which had not yet come to pass—truly, though I say it of my own father, he was as a holy man in his knowledge of people! Therefore I shall no longer think of killing myself, but allow myself to be raised by my aunt for a time, until I become a man.”

At length, he nodded and spoke. “I have been showered with mercy from an unexpected quarter. It is because you assailed me with reason that my hand was stayed and I have not died. I will submit to your bidding, as long it does not require notifying Kamakura, nor delivering up this sword.”

Hikiroku knitted his brow and replied, “I know nothing of your precious sword. No doubt ’tis something Kamezasa has said of her own volition, the half-baked maunderings of a woman. You will do as you please, sir, with whatever was left you by your father. Now that we have begun to thaw to each other, we should converse as relatives do—open our hearts to one another without reserve. Will you not overcome your skittishness and entrust yourself to what I now tell you?”

Faced with these earnest entreaties from three directions, Shino at long last saw the light. “Well, then, unhand me, I pray. I have heard you, and I understand.” At these words all rejoiced, and they retreated somewhat, while Shino sheathed his sword and reseated himself with his legs crossed; and yet he seemed uncalm, as he sat in silence, not knowing what was to become of him.

Then Hikiroku and Kamezasa sent Nukasuke back to their dwelling at a run to summon a menial or two. To them they gave instructions regarding the funeral, and that night Bansaku’s body was put away, while Hikiroku returned home. Kamezasa and Nukasuke stayed behind, maintaining a vigil beside the casket while comforting Shino. The next day, as the departed was carried to the family temple, the villagers were all without exception stricken with grief and mourning for him, so that his coffin had an escort of over three hundred persons. “Such a show of support is the least I can do for Shino,” said every one.

Nevertheless, when Hikiroku and Kamezasa, upon hearing of Bansaku’s suicide, rushed personally to his house and stopped Shino from killing himself, they were acting just as Bansaku had judged they would. “If both Inuzuka, father and son, kill themselves over this hoax rescript, the villagers will rise up in anger, and what we have may be destroyed. But if we take Shino in and raise him, the villagers’ suspicions will be allayed, and we shall be safe from harm.” Such were the couple’s hasty deliberations, leading to their earnest overtures to Shino. But Shino had always been wise to their true natures, and now he reflected on his father’s final instructions and surmised that they were seeking to deceive him.

Indeed, Hikiroku and Kamezasa did not at first make mention of the sword Rainmaker, and when Shino wished that he “not be required to deliver up his sword,” they quickly assented, and Hikiroku said that “he knew nothing” of that “precious sword.” But his words were slurred, and his expression altered as he spoke them: it was this that, impressing Shino with his father’s foresight and the brilliance of his intelligence, made up the boy’s mind for him at last, so that he refrained from killing himself. Thus was Shino a man and a warrior courageous and wise, but Bansaku was even more so. A pity, then, his great misfortune in dying before he could accomplish his aspirations, ending his days as a pearl buried maliciously in the mud, leaving behind no more epitaph than what might be attached to his name when it was spoken of by men.

But enough of digressions. Once the funeral had been accomplished, Kamezasa again deliberated with Hikiroku, and they sent a man to go get Shino and bring him to them. But Shino replied, “I will do as you say in all humility, but I shall not do so at least until the forty-nine days of my late father’s intermediacy have passed. Indulge me a while, I pray.”

This was a reasonable request, and yet, “’Tis hard to leave a child unattended. Nukasuke’s dwelling is close to his, so let us have him watch over Shino day and night. Gakuzō is neither superior nor inferior to Shino in age, and so will make him a good conversation partner. Therefore, summon the menial.” When Gakuzō appeared, he was sent to be by Shino’s side, told to “render him every assistance in the chores of the hearth.”

But this gesture, too, Shino viewed with suspicion, wondering if Gakuzō was “an infiltrator, sent to search out my true feelings.” And so he never let his guard down for a moment, but built his own fires and fetched his own water, and stayed cooped up in mourning, doing obeisance before his father’s and mother’s funerary tablets, until, all too soon, the time came when the cherry blossoms scattered, the young leaves greened the hillsides, and the cuckoo began to sing.

Day by day Shino took great care regarding Gakuzō’s conduct, but in all things the latter was warm and obedient, quite different from the typical rural manservant. Never did he take advantage of his master the Estatesman’s primacy in order to scoff at Shino, but instead he served him with all the diligence of a long-time servant, so that Shino was deeply impressed, and most of his doubts left him.

One day, Gakuzō saw that Shino was dirty, caked with grime, and said: “How quickly has the third seventh day¹ come since the passing of your departed one. Even if you would not put up your hair, perhaps you will require a bath? The water is already heated.”

Shino nodded. “Indeed, the fourth-month heat can be hard to bear. The wind is from the south today, and any grime not scrubbed off will keep piling up. Well done. I shall bathe.” At length, Shino went to the edge of the porch and took off his robe, while Gakuzō filled a large tub with hot water, tested it, and added some cold water. Finally he went and stood behind Shino and began gently scrubbing the grime from his skin.

Then he saw the mark on Shino’s arm. “You have this mark, too, my lord? I have one just like it. See here,” he said, pushing his own robe off his shoulders and turning his back to Shino. Indeed, there was a large black mark covering an area from the center of his upper back to a point beneath his right shoulder blade. It was the same shape as Shino’s mark. As he put his arms back in his sleeves and then tied the sleeves back again with a cord, Gakuzō explained. “I cannot see my mark, but I am told it has been there since I was in the womb. Is it the same with yours, my lord?”

To this query Shino made no reply, but only smiled. Then Gakuzō pointed into the garden, growing greener by the day, and said, “Over there beside the plum tree is a small elevation, what I think is a mound of earth newly dug. What, may I ask, is it?”

This Shino answered, saying, “None other than the place I buried my dog, whom you also knew.”

Gakuzō wore an expression of shame as he said, “There are those vindictive few who take great pride in having administered wounds to a beast who constituted no great foe. It seems, my lord, that you think I was among the ones who beat and stabbed that dog. Is it not so?” Every phrase seemed to suggest something of import, something of which he would speak further, but to this question, too, Shino replied only with a smile, and would give neither yea nor nay.

Then Shino was finished with his bath, and he began to wrap his robe around himself, when suddenly from one of his sleeves came tumbling his white bead. Gakuzō nimbly caught it, and carefully looked it over. “Now this is cause for wonder. My lord, did you find this bead yourself, or was it, rather, passed down to you, through your family? I wish that you might tell me whence it came,” he said, finally returning the bead.

Shino took it in his hand and replied, “I lost my father in the space of a morning, and since then have had nothing to assuage my sorrow. I had forgotten about this bead. Yes, there are a number of stories connected with it.”

This was Shino’s only answer, and when he did not elaborate, Gakuzō was not pleased, but emitted several sighs before saying, “Two people can have visages utterly dissimilar, and yet bear other resemblances. Two people can be utterly dissimilar at heart, and yet one must never say they cannot be friends.² My lord, you doubt me, do you not? I shall conceal nothing from you. Behold this.”

With that he reached into an amulet pouch he wore next to his skin and removed a single bead. Shino felt renewed wonder. He accepted the bead in the palm of his hand and gazed at it. It was identical to his own bead in every particular save one: it bore a different character. Upon it could be clearly read the character pronounced gi and meaning “righteousness.”

Something within Shino awakened for the first time when he saw this, and he said, as he reverently returned the bead to Gakuzō, “My years are few, and my talent insufficient—I have eyes, but I may as well not—I failed to recognize you sooner, and harbored severe doubts about you from the first. With each passing day I have weighed your words and actions, and discovered the many ways in which I do not measure up to you. I thought you no ordinary person, but had no excuse to inquire about your origins, and so I have kept my silence until today. And today I find, much to my surprise, that we bear similar marks on our bodies, and possess identical beads. This connection cannot be the work of a morning—it must be fated, stemming from karmic causes. First let me tell you the origin of my bead. It so happens that thus-and-such, et cetera, et cetera …”

And he told Gakuzō everything from how the goddess revealed herself to how he himself sent the dog Yoshirō along his way to death, and how when he did so, the bead unexpectedly appeared from the dog’s wound; he told of the violent circumstances that had left the mark on his flesh, of his father’s farsightedness and the import of his last words; he unfolded everything, withholding nothing, and Gakuzō pricked up his ears and inched forward on his knees without meaning to, so entranced was he by the story. He was moved—he exclaimed—he could not keep back the tears.

After a time Gakuzō regained his composure. “I am not the only unfortunate in this world. Having heard your tale, my lord, I feel I can trust you henceforth. I am, to begin with, the only son of Inukawa Eji Noritō, who was Estatesman for the Hōjō clan in the province of Izu; my name in infancy was Sōnosuke.³ When I was born, an old servant of ours was digging beneath the threshold to bury the afterbirth⁴ when he chanced to find this bead. It was an unexampled auspicious sign, everyone seems to have said, but it made my father uneasy, in combination with the suspicious mark I bore on my back. He desired to inquire into whether these signs were auspicious or calamitous, but there were no doctors worth the name in Izu.

“However, there was, within the precincts of the Ōbaku temple in our hamlet, a chapel to the Emperor Guan.⁵ My father had always directed his faith in that direction, and now he visited the chapel to inquire concerning my fate and what would befall me. With great concentration he plucked a fortune stick. It was number ninety-eight, and the legend that corresponded to it was this:

My father was somewhat lettered, enough to try to interpret the poem. The first couplet was inauspicious. The second couplet, however, offered more hope. The ‘Jade Rabbit’ is another name for the moon, and its ‘mingling’ refers to the full moon, the fifteenth night of the month. Thus, I should suffer illness and the like for the first twelve or thirteen years of my life, but from my fifteenth year, my fortunes would revive, and I should recover. Therefore, as a sign that my life would be prolonged as I wished, my father named me Sōnosuke: this was the tale I heard from my mother. ‘Sō’ must express the idea of thriving, flourishing.

“At this time the Kamakura general and Minister of the Court Nariuji, having had a falling out with the Shogun in Kyoto, was attacked by both Overseers and driven to take refuge in Koga. In the year of Kanshō 2,⁷ a man named Masatomo, fourth son of the previous Shogun His Highness of the Fukō cloister [lord yoshinori], was promoted to Director of the Right Guards. He came down to the Hōjō in Izu and, hailed as the master of the Horikoshi Palace, took in hand all rewards and punishments in every land.⁸ The Minister of the Court Masatomo, haughty in his military authority, was little inclined to mercy for the common folk; indeed, as he took pride and extravagance to new extremes, he imposed upon them many untimely levies of tribute and labor. My father, as Estatesman, marshaled many a venerable example in remonstrating with Masatomo over his burdensome governing, begging repeatedly for lenience, but he was rebuffed by calumniators; and when my father heard that the master of the palace had conceived a violent rage toward him and ordered his execution, his lamentations grew so great that he wrote a last letter and then killed himself, not even telling my mother. This happened in the autumn of Kanshō 6,⁹ on the eleventh day of the ninth month, when I was but seven years of age.

“Our estates and property were confiscated and our retainers and servants scattered to the four winds: none remained to follow us. The river of the once-great house of Inukawa had gone dry. My father’s wife and son were exiled—weeping and leading me by the hand, my mother went to a family connection here, an acquaintance there, but nowhere could she find a place for us—we spent that sad autumn in travelers’ lodgings, until the hail came, and ’twas midwinter. Now one of the retainers of the Satomi clan, the administrators of the country of Awa, was Amasaki Jūrō Terutake, originally a wealthy inhabitant of that land. He also being my mother’s cousin, she thought to appeal to Amasaki, and so, she leading me by the hand and I comforting her, we made our way through much hardship to Kamakura, where we sought passage by boat to Awa. However, the country was at war, and all passages by sea and land cut off: no boats were leaving from that place. Someone informed us that there were boats for Kazusa departing from the harbor of Gyōtoko, in Shimōsa, and so we set our sights on Gyōtoko.

“But we had come no farther than this village when a robber stole from us all the money we had for the journey. We had not even means to rent lodgings for the night, and so we were forced to go to the residence of the village headman, where we told him that thus-and-such had happened to us and begged shelter for the night. The headman and his wife you know well: when they heard we had no money, they offered us neither sustenance nor shelter, but rather rousted out their menials to turn us away. Our pleas that we be allowed to stay at least one night, to shelter, even if it be in their woodshed, until dawn, they rebuffed, causing their servants to chase us off their grounds and fasten the gate behind us. They spared us not a second look.

“The sun had gone down by now, and it had begun to snow. Advance we could not, nor could we retreat; my dam was like the crane that cries all night with voice upraised on behalf of its progeny, and I a desp’rate sparrow at the eaves, both of us overcome with the hardships of the journey, lost in our want of a roost. Behind this gate were faces hardened to us, and yet we lingered there, with vaguest hopes that they, perhaps, might call us back, and in, and still the snow did fall without surcease, its blizzard winds lacerating our limbs just as it tore our tattered hats away. And on this marrow-freezing winter night, my mother was assailed by renewed pain from her old complaint, which all that fall’s exertions and sufferings, our wandering life, had served to exacerbate. She appeared to me to be in veriest peril, yet though I fussed and fretted I was but a child of seven: of effectual remedies my mind was blank as th’ snow that surrounded us. My mother perished then, succumbing to the vanity of life before me, joining the ranks of those no longer of this world; it was the twenty-ninth day of the eleventh month.

“I clung fast to her empty husk, sobbing and howling, until daybreak, when the Headman discovered me and, realizing for the first time what had happened, bade me come inside, with much muttering. I was asked where I was from, and I answered, concealing nothing. Then, with little fanfare, he caused my mother to be buried—discarded, as it were—and that very day he summoned me to him and said, ‘You have lost your mother on a journey, and you have neither home to return to nor village to welcome you where you go. The Satomi in Awa are on Nariuji’s side, while this territory belongs to the house of the Overseers: you will, therefore, find it difficult to get passage to Awa. Your mother lost her travel funds before dying at my gate, and between her funeral and other sundries I have incurred considerable expense on your behalf. You can serve me from now on, working to repay the debt; nothing good awaits you in the future if you do not. You are, however, yet a child. It will be three or four years before you are any use to me at all—three or four years in which I shall be putting food in your mouth, for no return. This makes it no easy matter to fix a term for your years of service. Then I will be giving you a linden-cloth singlet in summer, and a lined robe in the winter. Consider that overpayment of your wages, and remain in my service for life. You shall have no silver, but you shall be taken care of until you die.’

“I hated him when he said this—it galled me no end—and yet I was adrift, a rudderless boat, with no other harbor—I was in no position to refuse him. So from that day to this, five years and more, I have been a menial in his service. Nevertheless I have aspirations, and not to agriculture and moneymaking. Born a boy into a world at war, ’twould be a waste if I did not raise myself up and revive my house. It was in the spring of my tenth year that I made up my mind to become a warrior, come what may. I have never revealed my true feelings, for the Headman is as suspicious as a fox, and jealous; I have displayed the rectitude of a simpleton, never deviating from his orders in the slightest, while clinging to the distinction between good and evil, but I have also—one-handed, as it were, while occupied with the heavy duties of my servitude—practiced my brushmanship late into the night, and in the daytime, while cutting straw for the animals, I have eluded men’s eyes to lift rocks, strike trees, and otherwise experiment with the arts of swordsmanship and unarmed combat, so that without having been taught, I have managed to learn the elements of sword wielding. I have never confided these aspirations to any of my fellows, and so they all scorn me as a nincompoop. They are, all of them, of little capacity and no account, and are not to be reckoned with.

“But of your talent I have long been aware—of your acts of filial piety I have many times heard—to you was I devoted before ever I saw you, thinking that association with such a person would be worth more to me than intimacy with any billion other people. And yet you were the son of an estranged relative of the headman; though we lived close, not a word could be spoken between us. My desire to inform you of my aspirations, if I only got the chance, was formed, you see, long ago. Thus when His Eminence’s suicide abruptly opened the way, and when furthermore my master ordered me here to be Your Lordship’s companion, it was a gift to me more precious than a thousand pieces of gold. I rejoiced inwardly at this Heavenly aid and came here with determination in my heart, only to find Your Lordship possessed of grave doubts that were not dispelled no matter how many days passed. I apprehended your attitude, and would not rashly speak of the aspirations I harbored: I awaited the time and the season, and not in vain, for efficacious fate has intervened, and the marks we bear in different locations on our bodies, and our white beads that form a pair, have acted as the go-between, allowing me to open up to you. Verily I am as the sick sparrow who sips the nectar and soars again on beating wings, or the fish in a wheel rut finally able to wet his gaping lips with rainwater. The meeting of a lifetime—what can surpass it? My desire is fulfilled.”

Thus did he tell his tale, in great detail, seeking to show the nature of his aspirations. Shino, as he listened, compared Gakuzō’s unfortunate fate with his own, and everything he heard caused him to exclaim. “You astonish me, my lord, with your great aspirations—I cannot easily measure up. Indeed it could only be a karmic connection that has brought us together, with these beads as the medium, that we might suddenly find ourselves like fish in water. Take, for instance, the final couplet of the poem given as a fortune at the chapel of Emperor Guan: You shall obtain your will when the Jade Rabbit mingles / And be as withered tree that spring does finally know. Does that not refer to this day? Now, there are many proven examples in both Japan and China of comparing a jade ball or bead to the moon, and the moon to a jade ball or bead. Therefore, can we say that You shall obtain your will when the Jade Rabbit mingles refers to our two beads acting as go-betweens, allowing us to bind ourselves in association? And be as withered tree that spring does finally know—we two here today are most unfortunate, and may be likened unto trees all but dead in the trunk, and with few limbs remaining. Nevertheless chance has given us each a friend until death, and if we assist each other unto the raising up of our names and the revival of our houses, will it not be as spring for us withered trees? We shall each of us know only glory for our descendants. The gods bless us with their mindfulness when we seek it: how wise the divine consideration of Emperor Guan! Then, again, the first two lines of the poem meant that your honored sire would kill himself, leaving your lordship and your mother to race over the length and breadth of the land—in short, it signified that your fate should be unpleasant for a time. That is why it said A hundred spirit-trying things endure shall you / To north and south shall run before your fate renew. Yea, is it not prodigious?”

When Shino had thus expounded the poem to him, Gakuzō understood it, and felt the truth of it: he lauded Shino’s talent and learning as extraordinary. Then he rubbed his forehead in embarrassment. “As for myself, I have only the rudiments of writing—the only characters I know by heart are the most common ones, and I have had no effort to spare for the study of literature. Were it not for Your Lordship’s interpretation, how should I ever have known of the radiant divine consideration that was dispensed on my behalf? My wish now is that I might be able to press on in my secret studies, with you as my teacher. Instruct me, I pray you.”

Shino shook his head when he heard this. “I am but eleven years old—it is true that I have been studying since I was in diapers, but still I can hardly be said to know anything. Happily, I have the books my father left me. If you would learn from them, sir, I shall lend them to you. It occurs to me that a man may make a friend of good or evil. The good befriend good, and the evil befriend evil. When one chooses those with the same aspirations as oneself, then all within the four seas are brothers.¹⁰ I am become an orphan. You, too, have neither brother nor sister. My whole desire now is to make a pact of righteousness with you, that we might be brothers henceforth. What think you, sir?”

Gakuzō rejoiced to be asked this. “That is what I wished for from the beginning! Yea, though we may have no pleasures to share, let us always share our sorrows, and save one another from hardship, even unto death. If I ever prove in the least untrue to this oath, may lightning from Heaven strike me down where I stand. I proclaim it reverently, to the Heavens above, with all urgency, under the law.”

When Gakuzō had thus sworn unto Heaven, Shino rejoiced mightily, and then took the oath himself. They exchanged cups, with water substituting for sake, to seal their pact. Then they compared ages to see who was the older. Gakuzō, having been born on the first day of the twelfth month of Chōroku 3¹¹[the year after princess fuse’s suicide], was now twelve. Shino was born seven months later: this made Gakuzō the elder brother. Shino promptly honored him as such, naming himself the younger brother. The two could not have been happier.¹²

Nevertheless, Gakuzō would not accept the precedence that Shino urged so determinedly upon him. He shook his head and said, “The little difference in our ages notwithstanding, you are certainly the elder brother when it comes to talent. We are brothers because neither would ever oppose the other: let us then not establish a difference in precedence between us. As I told you moments ago, the name given me in infancy was Sōnosuke. I have not yet been given my true name.¹³ It strikes me that you are known throughout the village for your filial piety, in addition to which, your true name is Moritaka, is it not? Is it perhaps for this reason that your white bead bears the character kō?¹⁴ A true prodigy. Now, my bead bears the character gi, for righteousness, while my father’s name was Inukawa Eji Noritō. Therefore I shall eliminate the no from my childhood name Sōnosuke, and call myself Inukawa Sōsuke Yoshitō.¹⁵ However, this is not something that should be spoken of to others—only you and I may know. My only desire now is that, through clinging to righteousness, I might avoid staining my name. What think you?”

Shino nodded in reply and said, “A name follows its master. ‘Yoshitō’ is most appropriate. When the eyes of others are upon us, I shall go on calling you Gakuzō, and I pray you answer.”

Gakuzō smiled and replied, “I certainly shall. Since you and I will have spent months together, arising and retiring as one, it does not behoove us to appear to others to be too intimate. When before the Headman and his wife I shall ofttimes curse your name, and you, I pray, will scorn me. By doing so we shall allow for no doubts to be cast our way, making each of us easier in our minds. I have already heard something—it happened in thus-and-such a way.”

He proceeded to repeat what Hikiroku had said after the departure of Nukasuke, after the latter had been cajoled into cooperation by Kamezasa. He described the scene in detail, saying, “All this time I was feigning to be asleep by the tea chest, so I heard everything. In sooth your late respected father had great foresight and knowledge of people—indeed I may say that, by virtue of his conduct, he was without peer among the warriors of the realm. Ah, what a loss, what a loss.” His speech ended in exclamations.

Shino added his sighs to Gakuzō’s. “I should have found it difficult, without your help, to do my father’s final bidding and protect the precious sword from theft once I went to live with my black-hearted aunt. These things that you have laid open to me now: I shall remember them,” he said, reverently acknowledging Gakuzō’s assistance.

Gakuzō pondered for a moment. “In light of this, it appears that my staying here longer will do you no good in the future. Tomorrow I shall pretend to be ill, and hie myself back to the main house for a spell. You must not wait out your father’s intermediacy, but should commit yourself to your aunt on about the thirty-fifth day. I pray you do this. Now that we have made a pact in righteousness, your father is my father. My heart shall wear mourning from this day forth—I shall strive my utmost to repay the duty I owe him and return gratitude for his virtue. Why should it be that only the womanly offering of flowers and chanting of sutras are counted as filial piety?”

With this encouragement, they bowed together in front of Bansaku’s memorial tablet and reported to him the day’s events. Then, suddenly, they heard footsteps approaching from outside. To whom did they belong? Gentle reader, you must await the sequel in my third Volume, where, at the beginning of the next Book, the riddle shall be unlocked.

Author’s note: When I was writing my draft of this book, a certain person who read it over my shoulder was concerned, saying, “Shino and Sōsuke have such perspicacity, such intellectual capacity, and yet they are still wet behind the ears—they are not yet fifteen. Such exceeding discernment! Theirs is certainly not the character of children. Fable this may be, but surely this goes too far. Furthermore, fiction interests the reader insofar as it penetrates into human emotions, and yet tales like that you now tell of these two children run counter to emotions, do they not?”

My reply: “Not so. Puyi was eight when he became the Emperor Shun’s teacher. Yizi assisted Yu at the age of five. Boyi controlled fire at age five, while Xiangtuo was Confucius’s teacher at the age of five. The saints and sages of old were born with wisdom to outshine and talent to outstrip any billion of other people. Such early understanding has never been a normal thing. There have been many other divine children as well. Xie Zaihang gathered together records concerning them and made a composition upon them. I have not space to enumerate them here; they may be seen in his Fivefold Miscellany.¹⁶ Do the Eight Dog Warriors deserve to be ranked along with them? It is for this reason that I find my amusement in creating serial biographies of them.”

Further note: Amasaki Jūrō Terutake’s death by drowning occurred in Chōroku 2.¹⁷ Inukawa Sōsuke’s father, Eji, committed suicide in the eighth year thereafter, in Kanshō 6.¹⁸ However, with communication by land and by sea cut off, Eji’s wife knew not of Terutake’s death when she turned her steps toward Awa on a journey that was to bring her death. As long as I had brush in hand, I thought it best to add this explication—though I do it myself—in order to allay any confusion the women and children may have experienced on this score.

• Water of the Divine Lady—A Family Tradition: price, 100 coppers per packet. An effective remedy for all ailments common to ladies, and of the first potency when taken just before and after birthing. Unlike other infusions commonly found in the world at large. As a full explanation of its effects is contained within the previous installment of this work, I forego it here.
• Miraculous Bolus, Exactingly Prepared: Because I weed out counterfeit medicines—because I observe the methods handed down as a family tradition—because in my preparation I follow the recipe in perfect circumspection, using the ingredients in their prescribed measure—because of all this, my bolus’s efficacy is divine. There is a separate literature describing its potency—I shall not do so here. Large packet, price 2 shu silver; medium packet, price 1 monme 5 bu; small packet, price 5 bu. Note that this is not sold individually.
• A Cure for Women’s Monthybugs: When taken by ladies who suffer monthly pain from monthybugs, its potency is truly divine. Most efficacious in cases where discharge does not resume after birthing: 64 coppers per packet; 32 coppers per half-packet.
• Remedies prepared and distributed at: Takizawa Family Preparations, across from the Yomo miso shop, on the south side of Naka-Sakashita, in Moto Iida-machi, Edo.
• Also handled by: Izumiya Shihei, in front of Shiba Shinmei, Edo; Kawachiya Taisuke, Karamono-chō, Shinsaibashi-suji, Osaka.
  • End of Book V of Volume II of the Lives of the Eight Dogs of the Satomi

1. During the forty-nine days of a deceased person’s intermediacy, special prayers and offerings were made. Each seventh day since the death was thought to be a significant milestone, with the twenty-first day being of special significance.

2. This appears to be a twist on the aphorism “people’s hearts are as different as their visages,” found in the Warring States–era historical commentary Zuozhuan (J. Saden), in the commentary on the thirty-first year of Duke Xiang.

3. Inukawa means “Dog River.” The first element in Sōnosuke is the character I translate “estate,” but as explained below, it has another meaning.

4. Birth rituals in many parts of Japan involved burying the placenta; the location and timing of burial varied.

5. The deified Three Kingdoms–era Chinese general Guan Yu. The Ōbaku sect of Zen Buddhism took root in Japan in the early seventeenth century, and throughout the early modern period it maintained particularly close ties to China.

6. This poem, in the original, consists of four seven-character lines in Chinese, glossed to be read as Japanese. The first and second lines rhyme, with the fourth being a near rhyme to the first and second.

7. 1461.

8. As explained in Chapter XV, note 6, until the Battle of Yūki the Kamakura Overlord (kubō) was the shogunal representative in the Kantō, supported by the overseers (kanrei). With Overlord Ashikaga Mochiuji’s rebellion and death, the position of overlord lapsed until Mochiuji’s son Shigeuji (called Nariuji in Hakkenden) was allowed to assume the office. As Gakuzō explains here, Shigeuji (Nariuji) then rebelled and was driven to Koga; he was thereafter known as the Koga Overlord. The shogunate sent Ashikaga Masatomo (1435–91) to assume the mantle of Kamakura Overlord, but events prevented him from entering Kamakura, and he settled in Horikoshi, in Izu; he was sometimes known as the Horikoshi Overlord.

9. 1465.

10. A phrase from Chapter 12 of Lunyu. A man who expresses loneliness at having no brothers is told that if only he conducts himself virtuously, then all men are his brothers. All Men Are Brothers (another rendering of this phrase) is the title of Pearl S. Buck’s 1933 translation of Shuihu zhuan (The Water Margin), the Chinese vernacular novel on which Hakkenden is loosely based.

11. 1459.

12. Shino and Gakuzō’s pact, both its setting and its wording, are reminiscent of the famed scene in Chapter 1 of Sanguo yanyi in which Liu Bei, Zhang Fei, and Guan Yu pledge mutual loyalty. See the “Translator’s Introduction” in this book.

13. An adult samurai had a true name (jitsumyō), as well as a familiar name by which he was generally known.

14. The character on Shino’s bead, read kō, means “filial piety” and occurs as the second character in Shino’s true name, read taka. See Chapter XIX.

15. “Yoshitō” combines the character on his bead (also read yoshi) with the second character of his father’s name, which means “responsibility.”

16.Wuzazu, a Ming-era miscellany by Xie Zhaozhe (Zaihang). This list of divine children is drawn from Chapter 8 of Wuzazu. Shun and Yu were ancient emperors of legendary virtue. Boyi was an assistant to both Shun and Yu.

17. 1458.

18. 1465.