Duty to one’s family and duty to one’s lord differ only in name—there is no difference in the sincerity of the heart.

—Bushidō Shoshinshu, Code of the Samurai

Paulo

“Let me see if I understand this. There are the Five Virtues and the Five Bonds.” I struggled to recall even the most basic information about Confucian philosophy. Gracia smiled encouragingly at me, much the way you would praise a small child trying to recite his lessons.

I sound like a fool.

“What was Estêvão teaching?” I hoped he hadn’t gotten into the more advanced concepts because I certainly couldn’t teach if he had.

Gracia walked to a cabinet. As she moved, I was disturbed to find myself watching the sway of her hips.

She pulled out some scrolls. “We had lesson plans on what we wanted to discuss for the whole year.” She placed a scroll in front of her and scanned through it. I smelled the incense on her clothes and admired the graceful curve of her neck. She pointed to a section. “This is where we were.”

“Family Regulation,” I read. There was nothing more. “That is not a lot to go on.”

I tried to remember what Confucius said about the regulation of the family. Unfortunately, women and fighting were my preferred studies back when I last had to read Confucius.

“Thus it is that there are few men in the world who love and at the same time know the bad qualities of the object of their love, or who hate and yet know the excellence of the object of their hatred,” Gracia quoted.

I moved my head nearer to hear her better, but the wisp of hair against her cheek was very distracting. It occurred to me that families sometimes arranged for the marriage of a widow to the deceased’s brother. If the brother was of higher rank. I laughed at myself. I was no longer even a member of the family, much less higher rank than Estêvão.

She continued, “In The Great Learning, Confucius warns us the love of an inferior man for his family is not really affectionate regard for the welfare of wife or child. It is merely indulging them, permitting them to go their own way without restraint. The superior man begins with respect as the basis of love. To omit respect is to leave no foundation for affection.” Her voice broke, tears shone in her eyes, it was a moment before she could continue. “Without love, there can be no union—without respect, love will be ignoble.”

She brushed away tears and stared at the scroll. “I loved working with Estêvão on these lesson plans. He was so enthusiastic about what he was doing with the chonin. So proud of his students. I do hope you will be able to help them.”

You are such a fool, Paulo. You still can’t compete for Gracia with Estêvão. His memory will always overshadow you. Just find his killer and get out.

The door slid open. My mother stepped into the room with an apologetic smile, saving me from having to come up with a suitable reply. “Paulo, Gracia, this spending time alone together is hardly proper. If you wish to talk, you should come out into the courtyard with the rest of the family.”

Gracia blushed. “Paulo is trying to continue Estêvão’s work at the Confucius Academy. I thought Estêvão would want that.”

My mother cocked an eyebrow. “My, such a noble purpose, and here I thought Paulo was just trying to avenge Estêvão.”

I have never been able to fool my mother.

Mother gave me a hard look. “Still, it is not proper for the two of you to be alone together. Should you wish to make a marriage to a suitable man at some later time, Gracia, we can’t have any rumors floating about.” She sat down. “I will just rest here for a bit. Go on with your lesson plans. I would be fascinated to hear Paulo’s discussion of the Master’s words.”

I forced a smile.

Gracia’s face was red, but she continued. Showing me a scroll, she said, “This is a copy of The Great Learning. You see further down Confucius says Yao and Shun led on the kingdom with benevolence and the people followed them.”

“He believed it was more effective to lead by example than to pass laws the leaders didn’t follow.” She hesitated. “Of course, it might be best to avoid too much discussion about the importance of the ruler being an example to his people. We are not sure how this next shogun will rule, although I hear he is a Confucian. But, the students all have families, and you can safely discuss how one’s example can inspire one’s family and friends.” She handed me the scroll.

I took some paper and a brush and started copying passages and making notes. My mother’s cold eye completely disrupted my mood. By the time we finished, my head was spinning from everything I needed to remember.

Seeing we were done, my mother said, “Gracia, why don’t you get us some tea? Paulo is quite fond of the Uji tea from Kyoto. Bring that.”

I straightened up. In my years since leaving my family, I had gotten accustomed to hard beds, ragged clothes, and rough foods, but I had never lost my love for fine teas.

“Thank you, Mother. That is very kind of you.”

Before long, Gracia returned with a teapot and bowls on a tray. She knelt and served us. It was a sencha, not my favorite, but it had the luminescent green color of the first harvest, which always made the best tea. Hopeful, I took the time to savor the flowery aroma, enjoying the anticipation of my first taste. I finally took a sip. Yes, the delicate sweetness fulfilled the promise of the color and scent. I smiled.

My mother smiled in return. “You like it?”

“Yes, it is like a taste of heaven,” I told her.

She cast a quick glance at Gracia, then continued, “Perhaps Gracia can prepare you a packet of the leaves. We have quite a bit. I don’t think it will be missed.”

What are these two up to?

Thankful as I was for the tea, I knew my mother far too well to think there would be no price for the favor.

“I would be most grateful,” I responded with a bow. The tea was more expensive than I could afford. I couldn’t think of anything I could do for them. Certainly, nothing that would be worth as much as the price of the tea. Cautiously, I took another sip.

Gracia took a deep breath and peeked up at me shyly. “Before you go, there is one thing I would like to ask.”

Here it comes.

She stopped and looked to my mother for support. “Your grandfather has hired a weapons master to teach Miguel and Mateus now that Estêvão is no longer available.” She made a deprecating gesture. “Mother and I think he is too harsh with them, but we are only women and know little of weapons training. I do know they hate their new instructor. Grandfather says the boys are weak and some hard training will be good for them. He told me, ‘A samurai cannot allow fear or weakness to prevent him from doing his duty to his lord and his family.’ We believe he is taking this too far. Could you, as their uncle, give your opinion?”

I went cold.

Take on Grandfather? Now, I remember why I never came back.

I was tired of being used as Mother’s puppet in her endless struggle with the old man. As far as I could tell, the battle began almost as soon as she joined the family.

I sighed.

On the other hand, it is my duty as the boys’ uncle to see them properly trained.

Slowly putting the tea bowl down, I said, “Gracia, one thing I have learned in my years of wandering is Grandfather was more often right than wrong. I would not have survived long without his instruction. If I get involved, I will not be indulgent with the boys.”

Gracia lowered her eyes but nodded in agreement.

I picked up my bowl.

Before I could take another sip, my mother cut in. “He can hardly claim his place as their uncle until his father has allowed him back into the family, Gracia.” She looked at me. “You are going to have to apologize to your father for your behavior as a youth and hope you can convince him to forgive you.”

These two had planned all this ahead of time.

Damn these endless games.

Slamming the tea bowl down and spilling most of my tea, I surged to my feet.

I felt the same anger and frustration that drove me wild when I was young.

I don’t have to put up with this anymore.

I grabbed my katana from the floor, shoved it in my obi and headed out the door.

“Paulo,” Gracia called after me. “Don’t turn your back on your family again. We need you.”

I froze at the door, struggling to contain my anger.

The last time you abandoned your family was the last time you saw Estêvão. If you abandon them again, who will be dead when you return?

Despite their emotional manipulation, what my mother and Gracia asked of me was nothing more than my duty—both as a son and a member of the family. I did have a duty to see to the proper training of my nephews in the absence of their father.

I looked back at Gracia. She had risen to her feet, one hand held out to me, her eyes beseeching. She was so beautiful. How could I refuse her?

I cursed myself for my weakness.

But I also knew there was no good reason to refuse. I knew what I did was wrong. I knew I had caused hardship for them with my wild ways. I had always planned on returning and apologizing someday. Today would have to be that day. I resolved to do whatever was required to reclaim my place in the family.

I turned and gazed at my mother. My father hadn’t spoken to me since I had seen him in the garden. “If I apologize, you feel he is willing to forgive me?”

She nodded. “If it is for the good of the family, he must.”

If my mother said something was for the good of the family, it would happen. She had spent most of her life getting people to do what she wanted “for the good of the family.” The rest of the world might fear the Tiger in the Shadows, but within his household, no one denied my mother for long.

She led me to the central garden. Father was seated on a stone bench, contemplating the koi pond, just as he had been when I first saw him some days before. My mother sat by his side. He showed no surprise at my presence.

I hesitated. I had played out variations of this scene in my head countless times, usually late at night when I couldn’t sleep. Now, it was really happening. My heart was in my throat.

Relax, Paulo, Mother has already arranged things. All you have to do is say something apologetic, and you will be back in the family.

But just saying the right words wasn’t enough for me. I needed my father to understand I was not the wild, destructive fool I had once been. He had to believe I was worthy of a place in the family.

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There were no words powerful enough to accomplish that.

Worry about the first steps rather than contemplating the entire journey.

Today, I would take those first steps.

I got on my knees before my father and placed my forehead against the ground. “Father, I have come to beg your forgiveness. I was a willful, foolish child. My behavior disgraced this family and cost the life of my best friend. If I had respected and obeyed you and mother none of that would have happened. Perhaps I had to learn these things on my own, but I have learned. Now, I wish to reclaim my place in the family and do my duty.” I raised my head to judge his reaction.

My father shot my mother a questioning glance. She nodded slightly.

He looked back at me. “Then you are ready to be a man and rejoin your family, Yujirō?”

I placed my forehead back on the ground. “Hai!

“The trouble you caused cost us dearly. It was two years before I could find any work. We cannot afford that to happen again. Do you understand?”

You were an idiot, Paulo.

I gritted my teeth. “Hai!”

“You will conduct yourself as befitting a samurai?”

“Hai!”

“You will fulfill your duty to your family?”

“Hai!”

“Then I will give you the chance to prove to us that you are worthy of a place in this family.”

I sat up and faced him. “I will not disappoint you, Father.”

He winced slightly at the word “Father.” Leaning forward, he grasped my shoulder, fingers digging in. His face hardened in anger and he stared into my eyes. “Avenge my son,” he whispered harshly.

My mother gasped and took his arm reprovingly.

He ignored her, but his face became impassive once again.

I held his gaze steady with mine. “I will avenge my brother if it kills me,” I assured him.

He gave a sharp nod, released my shoulder and leaned back.

“Fumio!” Mother hissed at him.

Ignoring her, Father picked up his cane and rose to his feet. “The boys are in the practice yard.”

My father had been born with a club foot. Because of his disability, my grandfather had always regarded him as less than a whole man and favored his younger sons. Unable to pursue more physical activities, my father had focused on scholarly pursuits and taken up the study of “Dutch learning.” He became one of the bakafu’s foremost authorities on the strange foreigners.

When I was a child, I adopted my grandfather’s attitude and despised my father. He never stood up to my grandfather, and he deferred to my mother in most things. But I saw a steel in him today that I had never suspected before.

I made my way to the training yard with Gracia and my parents trailing behind me. I heard my mother whispering to my father, scolding him from the sound of it. I glanced back to see his face impassive, limping along without acknowledging her words.

If there were any more people following me, I would look like a daimyō on parade.

Shouting and the clacking of wooden practice swords got louder as I rounded the corner. Entering the training yard, I picked up a wooden bokuto. The feel of the bokuto in my hand, the sweltering heat from the afternoon sun, the smell of sweat and dust took me back to my childhood. I felt more at home than I had since returning to discover Estêvão’s fate.

When the weapons master came into sight, I recognized him instantly. He called himself Masakado, for one of the three legendary demons of Japan. He probably thought it intimidated people. He hammered at my nephew Miguel with a bokuto. The force of Masakado’s repeated strikes to Miguel’s awkwardly held practice sword drove the boy backwards. Mateus stood nearby, watching in fear. My grandfather was seated under a tree, relaxing in its cool shade and smoking a pipe while watching everything. I saw a quick smile flicker across his features as he noted my approach.

Yamanaka Masakado and I had a long history. Fifteen years earlier, he had nearly killed me in a match right after I had been exiled from the capital. Just recently, we had sparred again, and I really thought I would finally beat him. However, a moment’s inattention on my part had cost me the match.

I should not have been surprised to see him here. He was widely held to be the best fencer in Edo, and Grandfather had never spared any expense in the training for his family.

I watched Masakado and my nephews for a few moments and then said, “Has it occurred to you, Yamanaka-sensei, to explain to the boy what he is doing wrong instead of just hitting him? It seems to me you would cripple a lot fewer students that way.”

He stopped and glared at me. “Sleeping Tiger? What are you doing here? Go back to bed. I have work to do.”

Miguel held his arm and stared at me with desperate eyes as I approached them.

Masakado turned back to the boy. “This time do it right, idiot.” He raised his weapon to attack the youth.

I stepped between them and knocked Masakado’s bokuto away.

“Is it so difficult for you to beat adults that you have taken up abusing children?”

“You were certainly no trouble to defeat.”

“That was luck, not skill. Children are all you are capable of defeating now. I’ll take over the training from this point. The boys will be of much more value to the family if they aren’t crippled.”

“We shall see who is the better teacher. After I have beaten you again, we’ll see how anxious they are to employ you.” Masakado attacked. I had half expected something like that from him—he was always reckless. My weapon blocked his strike at my head.

“Boys, get away from us!” I shouted. The women screamed at the boys to get out of the yard.

I forced his bokuto out of position and swung at his shoulder. If the blow had landed, it would have broken his right arm. He avoided the attack but had to give ground. The boys had moved, but not far enough for safety. I lunged at Masakado, attacking furiously, trying to drive him further away from the boys.

Running feet and shouts came from behind me, followed by the sound of weapons being drawn. I stopped attacking and held a defensive position. Masakado, seeing at the retainers behind me, did the same. We slowly backed away from each other.

Masakado shouted at me, “What makes you think you can just walk in and take over the training?”

“I am the boys’ uncle. It is my duty to train them. You may leave now.”

Masakado stepped back in confusion and looked to my grandfather for instruction. My grandfather signaled the retainers, who sheathed their blades. Grandfather fixed me with a scornful gaze.

“You are the boys’ uncle?” my grandfather asked. “My son might have something to say about that.” He turned to my father. “What do you think of this vagabond ronin who claims to be your son?”

My father ducked his head as if bracing for a blow. Gracia and my mother stepped forward to stand close behind him. He straightened up and gazed steadily at his father. “I have given him the opportunity to demonstrate his loyalty to the family,” he said.

The old man chuckled. He looked at Gracia and my mother. “So you have organized a revolt in my own household.” His laughter became louder. “If only the women in this house were male. The shogun would tremble before you.”

Masakado snorted in disgust and threw his bokuto into the dirt. “You owe me two koban, old man.”

At the insult to my grandfather, the retainers reached for their weapons and slid their katana loose from their scabbards, preparing them for instant use. Grandfather signaled again for them to stand down.

“You should be grateful I don’t have you killed for your insolence and stupidity,” Grandfather growled. He pulled two gold koban out of his purse and tossed them into the dirt at Masakado’s feet.

Picking up the money, Masakado looked at me and said, “Don’t think this is over.” He stalked out.

Shaking his head in exasperation, Grandfather said, “If I knew what you women had planned, I wouldn’t have had to waste any money on that fool.”

I stared at him in astonishment.

Was this his plan from the beginning?

Grandfather sat back down and resumed smoking his pipe. “All right, Yujirō, go ahead and instruct them. Let’s see if you remember anything I taught you.”

I looked at Miguel’s arm. It was badly bruised, but I didn’t think the bone was broken. I took his bokuto from him and placed his hands back on the hilt in the proper grip. “You need to be able to support the weapon with just your pinky and ring fingers. Like this.” I demonstrated the grip on my own bokuto.

Once he had his hands placed correctly, I had him hold the weapon in the mid-level stance. When I was satisfied with his stance, I picked up my bokuto and assumed the same stance across from him.

“Let’s try this again. We will do it very slowly, so you get the form right. I step forward and begin a head strike, then you step back and raise your weapon—”

As I approached him, he raised his arms unevenly but stood his ground. The bokuto was out of position, and he was in range of my blow.

“No, not like that. That is why you are getting hit. You are holding it wrong, and you must step backwards as I step forwards.” I showed him how far to step to the rear and then took his arm and helped him to hold the weapon correctly.

He was fighting tears. “It hurts,” he whispered.

Mateus looked at him with scorn.

“Shouldn’t he be allowed to take a rest?” Gracia asked my mother in a whisper.

“I don’t doubt it hurts,” I told the boy. “But you can’t stop a battle because something hurts. A samurai must learn to ignore pain.” I stepped back into position and gave him a steady look. “Strike correctly or die, samurai.”

We went through the kata slowly a few more times, then I sent him to put a cold, wet compress on the arm.

I turned to Mateus, who faced me defiantly. He sported several bruises but was ready to fight. Unfortunately, his form was terrible.

“No, that is all wrong.” I showed the proper starting position.

“This is how my father showed me to do it,” he insisted.

Grandfather snickered.

I doubted that his father had shown him this grossly incorrect stance. Estêvão was not a brilliant swordsman, but he was certainly competent.

This child is just like me—God help him. The only way he’ll learn anything is through long, painful experience.

I kept my tone light. “You can do it any way you want, but after many bruises, I have found this form works best. Now, you can keep getting hit until you learn a better way, or you can take advantage of what I have to teach you. It is your choice.”

He lost some of his assuredness and his shoulders slumped. He looked at his mother and straightened again. “They say you are going to find who killed my father and kill him. Is that true?” he demanded.

You had to ask me in front of everyone?

Conversation all around me stopped. My mother, father, grandfather, and Gracia were all looking at me, waiting to hear my answer. Unfortunately, each of them wanted a different answer.

“I will find the man who killed your father, and see he meets justice.”

Mateus looked me directly in the eye. “You had better kill him, Uncle. If you don’t, I will.”

*****

When I went back to the house, I was dirty and sweaty from instructing the boys. One of the servant girls bowed and led me to the bath, where a set of Estêvão’s daily wear had been prepared and laid out. I really felt like a member of the Maeda family again.

I bathed and changed into the clean clothes. When I went downstairs, Gracia was carrying a tray with tea into the family room where Mother was arranging dishes for a meal.

“Come in and have some rice and tea,” Mother called

“Thank you, Mother.” I joined them at the small table. As I sat down, Mother stood and went into the kitchen.

Gracia smiled. “Do you have more questions about Confucius?”

“No. No questions.”

My mother returned with a tea bowl, poured one scoop of matcha in it, filled it with hot water from the kettle on the brazier, then whisked it, placing the bowl in front of me when she was done. She sat down again.

While I waited for the tea to cool, I wolfed down the rice.

Just thinking about the notes for the Confucius class gave me a headache. So much to remember. I much preferred to think about arms training. “What time tomorrow should I come to instruct the boys?”

Gracia’s smile disappeared. “Oh, we are going to the festival tomorrow. The Fukugawa matsuri at Tomioka Hachiman shrine is in the afternoon. The children are behind in their studies. I had planned to have them catch up in the morning, and I don’t think there will be time for arms practice tomorrow.”

Clenching my jaws together to keep from snapping out the retort that immediately came to mind, I picked up my tea bowl, blew on it and then took a small sip. It was still too hot. I placed the bowl back on the table. In an even voice, I said, “Gracia, you and Mother asked me to train the boys. You can’t interrupt their instruction just for an outing. Daily drill, especially while they are growing up, is the foundation for a well-trained samurai. I wouldn’t be fulfilling my duty to the boys if I allow them to miss their practices.”

Gracia waved her hand dismissively while ladling out some rice. “Arms training really isn’t useful anymore. That is what Estêvão always said, and I agree with him. The world is changing. Scholarship is more important.”

“Gracia,” I said, a little more sharply, causing her to look up from her task. “You begged me to take responsibility for the boy’s arms training. I agreed and so I will decide how that training will proceed. These boys are samurai, and they need to be trained as samurai. You may regard this as pointless, but I will discharge my duty properly.” I picked up my bowl and took another sip of tea. Still too hot.

Gracia gave my mother a sidelong glance. Mother had stopped eating and regarded me steadily.

This is the place where I used to start yelling and then would stomp out. Well, I am not seventeen any longer.

I met my mother’s eyes. “When I undertook the boy’s training, I warned the two of you I would not be indulgent. You agreed and now I am going to hold you to that.”

To my surprise, my mother dropped her eyes. She turned to Gracia. ”The boys will train tomorrow in the morning when Paulo comes. Then I am sure he will wish to accompany us to the matsuri as is his proper role as the arms master.”

I forced a smile.

Mother can’t simply agree. She has to have her small victories.

Gracia pressed her lips together, but after a moment gave a sharp little nod.

Welcome back to the Maeda family.