A samurai who does not understand his role in life should immediately join one of the three classes of the common people. He should cultivate the fields as a peasant, create items as an artisan, or devote himself to buying and selling as a merchant.

—Shidō, The Way of the Samurai

Paulo

It was a long walk back to the kimono shop, but Akiyo-san was fairly light, so I was able to carry her to the city before my back ached so much that I had to lay her down for a moment. Fortunately, my hands and arms were working again by then. I sat beside her and examined her. Blood had soaked through her obi. It was a lot of blood for an old woman to lose and it worried me. She had passed out, but she was still breathing. I picked her up again. I had to get her back to the shop quickly. Passersby were looking at me strangely and giving me a wide berth. No doubt, the constables were going to hear of this.

When I finally arrived, Hanae and Kaguya came rushing out, desperate to know what happened. I had them prepare her futon upstairs in the bedroom, and when they finished, I staggered upstairs, laid her down, and collapsed next to her.

I told the girls what had happened. Hanae and Kaguya examined her wound and decided stitching would be necessary. Hanae was given the job. Kaguya went downstairs to prepare an herbal poultice. While Hanae got some silk thread, I dragged myself to a sitting position, trying to work up the energy to leave for there was little I could do here.

Sai finally arrived, out of breath. I told her I was leaving, and she begged me to wait a short while so she could see Akiyo-san.

“There is no need for you to protect me any longer,” I assured her. “We have killed the shinobi, so I shouldn’t be in any danger from assassination. Anything else, I am certain I can handle. Stay here and help look after your sensei.”

The girls clearly knew far more about caring for wounds that I did, so I got out of the way and walked back to my grandfather’s house. Between the fight and carrying Akiyo-san across a good part of Edo, I was staggering with exhaustion when I reached home.

The guards stepped back in horror when I opened the gate. Elisabet was playing with dolls in the front of the house. She shrieked and ran inside when she saw me.

I looked down at my clothes. They were covered blood and dirt.

My mother raced out of the house. “What happened? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Hardly any of the blood is mine,” I answered.

“Is that supposed to make it better? Make sure that you get all the bloody clothes off before you come into the building. I don’t want the house defiled.” she said.

Defiled? We are supposed to be Christian, not Shinto.

Shaking her head, she went back into the house. I could hear her calling for servants to bring water and clean clothes.

The two boys raced out of the house and came to an abrupt halt when they saw me. They stared at me, mouths agape.

“This is what battle looks like,” I told them. “It’s ugly.”

I started removing my bloody clothes. “Your father was killed by a shinobi. A rogue assassin who killed without official sanction for anyone who would pay.”

A shuriken fell out of my obi as I removed it. I pulled off my kimono and hakama. I picked up the shuriken and held it out in my bloody hand to Miguel. “I don’t know which shinobi killed your father, but we killed all of them. Most of that blood is from a brave comrade who might not survive. The cost was high, but it had to be done.”

Miguel gulped and gingerly extended his hand to take the shuriken. He turned it over and looked at it from all sides. “What is this?”

“A shuriken. It is a shinobi weapon, a throwing star. Place it on your father’s grave to let him know that we have partially avenged him. The shinobi were merely a weapon in the hand of the man who ordered your father’s death, but he too will meet justice.”

Miguel looked a bit sick, but Mateus’ eyes were shining. He looked exactly as I imagine I looked as a child while watching my uncles. The hero worship was clear.

Gracia is going to kill me.

Mother handed me a bucket. “Clean your hands and get the blood off your skin. Boys, help him get his armor off.”

The boys knew nothing of armor and were more of a hindrance than a help in getting it off, but I said nothing and told them what to do. I wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, but it was my job to teach them arms and this was too good a learning opportunity to let pass.

Mother brought tea for my wounds, but this time I had received nothing more than scratches, scrapes, and bruises. I promised to tell Mateus about the fight after I rested and headed inside. Barely aware of what I was doing, I stumbled upstairs and managed to lie down on my futon before I fell into the blackness of unconsciousness.

Whack!

Something struck me on the head, the pain penetrating even my sleep-addled wits. I opened my eyes and sat up. My grandfather stood by the futon, glowering down at me, his cane raised to strike again. “Why didn’t you come and see me when you got back?” he growled at me. “What did you discover?”

I rubbed my hand through my hair. “We located the rogue shinobi, and Sai, Akiyo-san and I went and took care of them.” I licked my dry lips. “Akiyo-san was hurt.”

“What!” Grandfather almost struck me again. “What happened to her?”

“She was seriously wounded by the rogue, but she killed him. The girls were taking care of her when I left.”

“Don’t go away,” Grandfather said, then left the room, yelling for his servant.

I lay back down and closed my eyes. Just as I started to drift off…

Whack!

I sat up, rubbing my head where the cane hit me. “What?”

“I was sending a wound surgeon to take care of Akiyo. Now, let’s go over the rest of it. You killed all the shinobi, I take it. It might have been better if we had one of them alive to ask questions, but it’s too late to worry about that now. What did you find?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it without saying anything. After a few moments, I said, “I don’t know, I forgot to ask Sai.”

“You forgot!” Grandfather yelled. “What were you thinking of?”

“Not much, mostly I was really tired.”

Grandfather shook his head, “You still have to take a nap after you get in a fight? One day, that is going to be the end of you.”

I didn’t remind him that he had predicted all sorts of things would be the end of me, yet I was still alive.

“More than one daimyo won every battle and still lost the war because he didn’t pay attention to the important things. You need to remember that.” He wagged his finger at me.

I nodded. I was too tired to argue with him.

“Since you have no idea of what we learned from the rogue shinobi, I guess I will have to go talk to Sai myself. Probably get a better report that way, anyway. However, that can wait. There is something we need to do before that. Follow me.” Muttering to himself about worthless grandsons, he headed downstairs.

Grandfather called the family together, then sat on the tatami, smoking his pipe as everyone gathered.

“The pot is beginning to boil, and events are liable to overtake us if we are not prepared,” he began.

“What events?” Mother asked. “Why did Paulo return covered in blood?”

“We killed the shinobi who murdered my brother.”

“We will pray for their salvation,” Mother said.

“We are glad you weren’t hurt,” Gracia added.

Father shook his head. “I can’t say I am sorry to hear of their fates. I will go to the temple and pray that their souls pass quickly to the land of the dead. And that they spend a millennium in hell before they begin their new lives.”

“They were merely tools in the hands of the real killer.” I said.

Grandfather put his pipe down. “That’s correct. We believe that the machi-bugyō was behind my grandson’s murder, but we don’t know why or which one. I have spoken with an old friend who was a head constable on the police force, and he confirmed that they were told to treat Eiji’s death as a suicide. The order came from the office of the machi-bugyō.”

Mother gave a sharp hiss of indrawn breath and Father’s hands clenched into fists. Gracia just looked sad.

Grandfather continued, “Unfortunately, I have been unable to determine who in the machi-bugyō’s office was responsible for the order, or even whether it was the North or South machi-bugyō that issued it. However, tomorrow evening, I am having dinner with another old friend who I hope can supply some more information.”

“If the machi-bugyō is behind Eiji’s death, what can we possibly do against him?” Father asked.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Grandfather picked up his pipe, packed tobacco into it, lit it, then took a deep draw of smoke into his lungs. “There are people I can contact who can take some action, but only if I have solid proof of wrongdoing. What we really need is that book that Eiji kept.”

“I searched his office at the Academy,” I said. “The book wasn’t there.”

Grandfather let out a long stream of smoke. “Then we need to search the house. He most likely hid it somewhere here. Look everywhere. Yujirō, you pull up the floorboards. Your father can help remove the tatami.” He turned to Gracia and Mother. “Check all the bedding, clothing, cupboards, and other storage spaces. Use the children to check underneath the houses once Yujirō removes the floorboards.”

We all headed across the garden to the main house.

“You don’t need to do this, son. Going against the machi-bugyō is too dangerous,” Mother urged.

“Actually, I do. My brother started this.” I walked a few steps and stared at the koi pond. “He did it because there are people starving in the streets and he believed that didn’t have to happen. He knew there is rice available but the merchants are hoarding it and driving the prices up. They killed him for it.”

I turned to gaze at Mother. “They are murderers. They not only killed my brother but, through their actions, many people in Edo starve every day. I need to finish this, not just for vengeance, but to stop people dying from starvation. I have risked my life for far less important things. You will not talk me out of this.”

Mother stared at me. I met her gaze calmly. This time no amount of argument would move me. “Come Gracia, we need to find the children.” She turned away and walked off. With a troubled glance, Gracia hurried after her.

“Well, I still appear to possess a great talent for irritating Mother,” I said to my father.

“Actually, I think Meiko is angrier. Your mother understands. She just doesn’t like it. Meiko, on the other hand, feels that bloodshed is contrary to the will of God.”

We reached the main house. Father pulled up one tatami mat, then stopped, leaning against it.

“I had something I have been meaning to tell you. I wanted to apologize for marrying your mother.” Father stopped with an astonished look on his face and shook his head. “No, that didn’t come out right. What I mean is that I know that being raised Christian has been difficult at times. I had not really considered the effects it might have on my children when I promised your mother she could raise you in the church and … well, there are times that I wish I hadn’t married a Christian.”

I helped him lean the mat against a wall, “There were a lot of things that made my childhood hard. Being raised Christian was far from the worst one. Most of my difficulties were self-inflicted.”

He smiled. “Don’t get me wrong. I love your mother, and she is as dear to me today as when I married her. You have to understand how dazzling it was to me to meet a woman of her beauty and accomplishments that accepted me for what I was, who didn’t consider my infirmity to be a punishment for something I had done in a previous life. She saw me as just another person, one she respected, and she has never wavered from that.”

We picked up another tatami mat and leaned it against the wall. “Of course, that attitude came from her Christian upbringing, and I loved her for it. But I never thought about some of the other issues that came with that background, and I feel like you suffered for it. But, I really thought that once the foreign priests were expelled from Japan, the Christians would give up after a while.”

I started picking up the floorboards. Finally, I said, “I don’t know. I tried to leave the church, but it has shaped me. Mostly for the better, I think. It’s part of what I am. It may have been one of the factors that kept me from becoming like your brothers.”

My father nodded. “I can see that. In any case, that was something I’ve meant to tell you.”

We worked in a companionable silence after that as I pulled up the last of the floorboards. I hopped down onto the dirt and took a look around. I didn’t see anything. Father handed me a lantern and I used it to look under the building at the rooms that still had floorboards in place. Still nothing. Of course, I was too large to fit very well in the crawl-space, so I couldn’t see far.

Gracia arrived with Matias.

I stepped back up into the room. I handed Matias the lantern. “I want you to crawl around under the building, and see if your father left his book down there anywhere.”

A huge grin broke over his face. “All right! That sounds like fun!”

Gracia said, “Father, you make sure Matias doesn’t get into any trouble. I will go help Paulo in the next room.”

We started pulling up the tatami. After a few moments, Gracia said, “Mother has said that I have been too harsh and judgmental. That I act like I don’t want you here. It isn’t true. It has been good to have you back. We have all missed you.”

I laughed. “It is nice of you to say, but I remember the last year I was here. I doubt you miss that.” I stacked another tatami mat against the wall and wiped the sweat from my forehead with my sleeve. It was hot work.

“Well, perhaps not that part,” she said with a smile. “But you have an intensity that colors the world. Without you, we have all settled into our books and interests. You come along like a typhoon, we come out to see the wreckage, but we are also glad to be alive and see each other.” She shook her head and laughed. “That doesn’t sound right at all. But I thought my heart died when Estêvão died, and now I feel alive again.”

“A typhoon? I don’t feel flattered for some reason.”

She laughed heartily. It felt good to talk with her and see her laugh.

I said, “You have no idea of how happy it makes me to be back with the family. I had not realized how alone I was.”

We finished stacking the mats in silence. I started removing the floorboards. Gracia said, “Paulo, as I was chasing down the children, I couldn’t help but hear your conversation with Father. The way you spoke made me wonder, why don’t you attend meetings with us? You were raised Christian and now that you are back…”

I finished pulling up the floorboards without saying anything. Finally, I answered, “Gracia, you have no idea what kind of life I have led the last few years. I don’t know if I even believe in Christ. And, if I do believe in Him, I don’t think I can follow His teachings. Mother’s father and brothers notwithstanding, I am not certain one can be a Christian and a samurai.”

She gave a deep sigh. “Actually, I do understand. Estêvão had the same questions. In fact, he told me once that you were the one that got him thinking about it, years ago. I believe that, in the end, he felt that being a Christian and a samurai were incompatible with each other, and he chose to be a Christian first.”

“That may have worked for Estêvão, but I don’t think it will work for me.”

Matias crawled in from the other room. “I found a lizard.” He held out a brown grass lizard in his right hand.

“Matias, put that down. You are supposed to be looking for a book,” Gracia said.

As Gracia scolded Matias, I took the opportunity to end a conversation that had become rather uncomfortable. I went into the next room.

Elisabet was trying to move a heavy cabinet. I went over and helped her.

It was rather heavy work, and I took a moment to catch my breath.

Elisabet stood in front of me with her hands on her hips. “The boys get to practice with a bokken. Why do I have to learn the naginata? It is too big. You are not allowed to carry it around in town.”

“Samurai women traditionally fight with the naginata. Your grandmother can use the naginata. It is a good weapon.” I picked up a chest and moved it out onto the veranda.

Elisabet followed me out. “Maybe it was a good weapon for samurai women who lived a long time ago. When they were left alone in country manors and had to defend them from bandits. What use is a naginata here in Edo?”

I really hadn’t thought about that. Who was she planning to fight, anyway? “What would you like to learn?”

“The tantō, and katana, and wakizashi, just like the boys,” she said with a smile.

I carried out another chest. “Swords. Why?”

She dragged me back inside the room. In a soft voice, she said, “Can I tell you a secret? You have to promise not to tell Mother or Grandmother.”

I stared at her. This couldn’t be good. I didn’t know much about children, but I hadn’t expected this shy, sweet girl to present problems.

Could I promise not to tell? What is she up to? If this were Mateus, I know it couldn’t be good, but what could she be planning?

“If you insist…” I answered.

She smiled. “I am going to Nagasaki to find a husband.”

She’s thirteen … and planning on a husband?

“Why?”

“I can’t marry a man who is not a samurai. I want to find a proper Christian. Someone like Father. I will not marry anyone who is inferior to him.”

“There are Christian samurai families here in Edo.”

She pressed her lips together. “Only two. None of them attend services. They aren’t good Christians. I shall have to look elsewhere for a husband.”

I started pulling up floorboards while I thought. What was I supposed to do? She couldn’t go wandering the countryside looking for Christians.

Finally, I said, “When do you plan on doing this?”

“Oh, not until I am much older. Maybe when I am fifteen.”

I sighed in relief. “Now, you have to make me a promise,” I told her.

She nodded her head, solemnly.

“Don’t go without me. You cannot be legally married without a representative of your family, you know.”

Her eyes grew wide. ”Oh, really? I didn’t know that. Very well, I promise. But you see why a knife and sword would be better now, don’t you?”

“Yes. You might want to study the bo as well. It could be taken for a walking stick, but it is a very effective weapon.”

She smiled.

“Now, get Matias to crawl under the house here. The next time we have weapons drill, I will cut the down the practice naginata and make it into a bo for you.” I watched her run off.

Two years. She will probably forget all about it in two years.

I hope.

*****

The search had been a failure. We found no sign of my brother’s notebook. After we finished, we stood around, dejection clear on everyone’s face.

“There is one more possibility,” I said. “He might have put it in the Academy classroom. I can look there tomorrow night after the students have left. I’ll ask Sai to help me.”

Grandfather scowled. “Let’s hope you find something.”

At that point, I excused myself, because I had some business of my own to take care of.

It was the fifth day of the eighth month. On this day fifteen years previously, I accidentally killed Osamu, my best friend. Every year I was in Edo I visited him at the family grave to offer prayers, incense, and talk a bit.

“Well, I’m still alive,” I told him. “I wonder how much longer I will be. I feel like I am drowning in all these schemes.” I gave a humorless chuckle. “You always said Grandfather would get me killed. I think he is actually working to keep me alive this time, but even with his help, it might not be enough.”

A hot breeze blew a leaf along the walkway as I lit a stick of incense. “What is being dead like? If I find out soon, I hope you haven’t changed your mind about forgiving me for my foolishness. I don’t want to find you waiting for me with a fiery katana in your hand.”

I placed the stick in the incense holder. “Or do Buddhists go to a different place than Christians?” The smoke curled lazily up along the tall tomb. “I never told you I was a Christian, did I?”

“Am I a Christian?” No answer came to me. Osamu wouldn’t know the answer to that question. Certainly not if I didn’t know.

“You were certainly wrong about one thing. Gracia hasn’t grown old and ugly. She is more beautiful than ever.” I laughed. “And, no, I haven’t forgotten about her.”

My voice dropped to a whisper. “My brother has barely been buried and I long to hold her.” Shame washed over me.

The memory of Osamu’s salacious advice regarding matters of the heart came to me. “No, the accommodating ladies of the Yoshiwara District are not a solution to this problem. I don’t think there is one...”

“We once wanted to get away from our families and spend our lives in the arms of whores. Now, I am risking everything to regain a place with my family. Even trying to be a father to my nephews,” I laughed. “Me, a father. If there is a just God in this world, those children will turn out as badly as I did.”

“We were fools, Osamu.”

The memories of the times Osamu and I had spent carousing came back to me. “I don’t go out drinking anymore. I guess I am turning into an old man. Maybe I will become my grandfather. Wouldn’t that be a laugh?”

I stared at the tomb. “Who would you have become if I hadn’t accidentally killed you? And all the men I have killed since then, what kind of lives did I end?”