“What did you say?” Ujiteru demanded of the messenger from his elder brother Houjou Ujimasa who had arrived in Hakone earlier. They were meeting in a room detached from the main building. The messenger seated before him was a short man with small eyes and pale lips named Tooyama Yasuhide, a vassal of the Houjou who had once served as one of their magistrates. He and his father Yasumitsu had also acted in the capacity of diplomats from the Houjou to other daimyo. He now attended on Ujimasa as one of his aides.
“Ujiteru-sama, this is what our lord hath commanded...”
“I asked you to repeat what you just said!”
Quivering, Tooyama prostrated himself before Ujiteru’s enraged growl.
“That Master Saburou should be given as offering to the ‘Yatate Cedar.’”
“What is my brother thinking?!”
Thump. Ujiteru struck his knee hard with his fist as he stood.
“We are putting all our effort into searching Hakone for a suitable offering! Why, then, must Saburou be sacrificed? Does my brother not understand what such a thing would mean?”
“But consider, Ujiteru-sama, that none but Lord Saburou hath strength enough to match the offering at Nikkou. No common existence could hope to contain all the spiritual majesty of Nikkou; I have heard he carries terrifying power,” Tooyama continued, animation in his small frame, “‘Tis my fervent belief that Ujimasa-sama’s course is the right one. Once the Nikkou sacrifice is tree-bound, the binding of the ’Yatate Cedar’ must follow immediately thereafter. At this moment, is there any but Lord Saburou who may take the awesome spiritual majesty of the sacred tree upon himself without being torn apart?”
“But to do so would mean that Saburou will never be able to return as a human being!” Ujiteru shouted, back rigid with anger. “The offering to the ‘Ritual of Unification by Fire’ necessarily loses his humanity as he is enfolded within the spiritual majesty of the sacred tree. The soul itself transforms into a living weapon, to exist forevermore as a mass of spiritual energy. I would never do such a thing to Saburou. How could my brother possibly consider this course with equanimity? How could he command Saburou’s destruction?!”
"’Tis because Lord Saburou is his brother that Ujimasa-sama hath decided he must be sacrificed for the conquest of the Kantou. But even were it not for the Kantou, we face mighty foes in the forms of Takeda and Oda. A single misstep would mean our lives. He hath chosen Lord Saburou that this grand ritual might be completed to perfection and display its awe-inspiring effect in full. All that he does, he does for the Houjou conquest of the «Yami-Sengoku».
“Conquest conquest conquest... Were the sacrifices we demanded of Saburou four hundred years ago not enough? Must we now exploit him still further?”
Tooyama closed his mouth, chastened.
“Moved around like a chess piece by his own flesh and blood for glory, for peace—after all his terrible sacrifices, will we once again use him so shamelessly for the self-serving whims of the clan?”
“Surely, Ujiteru-sama—”
“Let us soar across the battlefield together as brothers. To make of him a mere weapon... I cannot allow it. Does my brother think Saburou, his own younger sibling by blood, is no more than a tool to be used?!” Ujiteru spat, striking his knee. “I am certain he countenances such cruelty because he fears Saburou’s power—that terrible power of «choubuku». What absurdity! What meaning can peace have to our family if we cannot even trust our own brother?”
“Ujiteru-sama, surely you cannot mean these words...”
“Can’t I? It’s the truth. My answer is no. I don’t care if the head of the family commands it, I would never even consider perpetuating such an inhuman act against the brother I have finally found again after so long. Return and tell that to my brother. I will never consent to obeying such an order.”
“But you must, Ujiteru-sama! ’Tis the absolute command of our lord!”
“Absolute command? Toss around these modern terms all you want. It will not change my mind.”
“Ujiteru-sama!” Tooyama insisted forcefully, moving forward on his knees. “This command you must obey!”
“What?”
“Ujimasa-sama hath laid his doom upon me, that if I should return without obtaining your consent, I must commit seppuku to atone for my failure.”
“Seppuku? Even if you did, you could simply possess someone else. It is meaningless.”
“I beg you to listen to me, Ujiteru-sama. This command is not by will of Ujimasa-sama alone.”
“What did you say?”
“The order to make Master Saburou the sacrifice of Hakone came from your honored father, Ujiyasu-sama!”
“What?! From Father—!” Ujiteru’s eyes widened. “What do you mean? Has my brother finally seen him? Does he know where Father is now?!”
Ujiteru’s anger was not unjustified, for their father’s whereabouts had eluded the Houjou brothers until now. All they knew was that he had not been purified, for it was his spirit which had dissuaded Ujimasa and Ujiteru from placing a death-curse upon Hideyoshi, the man who had commanded their deaths by seppuku. It was his counsel which had pacified their onryou four hundred years ago.
They had been searching for their father Ujiyasu since their resurrection. With battle upon them, they had felt a power of unknown origin aiding them like the cocoon of a father’s regard. That was why they believed it to be Ujiyasu’s power. But neither Ujimasa nor Ujiteru had ever felt his presence appear before them. Though they had hoped for the use of his power, that they might conquer the «Yami-Sengoku» together, he did not seem inclined to show himself to them. Telling Kagetora that ‘Father is waiting’ was but an expediency, but...
(Has my brother found our father?)
If it was their father’s will that Saburou be made a sacrifice, Ujiteru would offer no opposition.
Indeed, contact with Ujiyasu was incredibly good news.
“Tooyama, has my brother seen Father, met with him? Did he say?”
“This matter regarding Ujiyasu-sama must be kept absolute secret. You are the only one who knows, my lord.”
“...”
Ujiteru pondered. After long minutes submerged in contemplation, he sighed deeply. “Tell my brother that I would like to think for a little longer on the issue of this sacrifice.”
“But time...”
“...is running short? I know this. I must have time to prepare myself.”
“Might I conclude, then, that this matter regarding Master Saburou is resolved?”
“Does the idea of Saburou as sacrifice bring you joy?” Ujiteru snapped, looking up at the hint of—glee?—in Tooyama’s voice.
“...N-no, not at all...”
“That was not sorrow I heard in your voice. So you and my brother are accomplices. Ah, of course—you are Tooyama Yasumitsu’s son, are you not?”
Tooyama’s face stiffened abruptly.
“Yasumitsu, I believe, was the one who accompanied Saburou to Echigo. And you as well...”
“...”
Averting his eyes slightly, Tooyama confirmed, “Yes...my father and I went with Master Saburou to Echigo...”
Nodding, Ujiteru continued, “I heard that Yasumitsu died in battle during the Otate no Ran. And you...”
“Yes...yes...I, too...”
“You have not seen your master in four hundred years, then, though you fought and died for him. How deeply it must affect you to be near to him once more.”
“Ah...”
“Will you not go to see him before you return to Nikkou? I am sure Saburou would wish it too. Though he can no longer speak to you, he would surely be glad...”
“N...no! I...!” Tooyama exclaimed, his expression changing abruptly. Ujiteru gave him an odd look. “I...I cannot forgive myself for Master Saburou’s death, for failing to protect him. That is my eternal shame and regret. I have not the face to see him.”
“Nay, you laid down your life for Saburou and fought to the death to protect him. How could he bear any ill-will towards you? Surely he would express his gratitude to you instead. Besides, if truly you feel such shame that you are unable to face him, would not that disgrace compel you to render your apology to him?”
“No, oh please... Please grant me this mercy...”
“I see,” Ujiteru finally allowed in the face of Tooyama’s steadfast refusal, which he sympathetically attributed to pained mortification from a hard defeat in the Otate no Ran. “I will speak of you to Saburou. You may return to Nikkou and give my consent to my brother and father.”
Standing in the doorway with Kotarou beside him, looking after Tooyama’s car as it drove away from the estate in the rain, Ujiteru asked, “What do you think? Of the news of my father?”
“What do I think?”
“Has my brother met with him, truly? Has my father appeared before him?” He was not prepared to accept such a claim at face value. “How could my brother, though he is in Nikkou, have known Father’s whereabouts when we have been seeking him so desperately here in Hakone to no avail?”
“...Do you doubt our liege lord’s command?”
“No... No, I do not. But...”
“It is certainly true that at this moment, we have no way of verifying that Ujimasa-dono does indeed speak our lord’s commands. Perhaps it is only a convenient ploy to obtain your consent for the sacrifice of Saburou-dono.”
“Are you saying that my brother’s claims are false?”
“I cannot say... However, I, too, am in favor of Saburou-dono as the tribute. It is unlikely we will find another with such power. He suits perfectly.”
“So you would also urge me to sacrifice Saburou?”
“If your aim is the successful completion of this project, certainly. I support Ujimasa-dono’s decision.”
“I see...” Ujiteru cast his gaze at Lake Ashi, misted now with rain. “I suppose there is no other way...”
“Ujiteru-dono...”
“Leave me. I must think this through,” Ujiteru said, and re-entered the house. Kotarou’s gaze followed him as he disappeared within. Then he turned a fierce glare to the corner around which Tooyama’s car had vanished.
How long had he been sitting there by Takaya’s side?
The day had not brightened with noon’s approach, for a storm was coming. Black clouds gathered overhead, and a light fog rose around Lake Ashi, turning midday as dark as evening. Cars drove through the gloom with their headlights on.
He gazed out at Lake Ashi. Ah yes: he saw now that they were situated directly across the lake from Hakone Shrine, though at a slightly higher elevation. On a clear day he would be able to look out over the Moto-Hakone area.
Naoe was seated in formal pose before the prone Takaya, his fists on his knees. His eyes were wide-open and fixed on Takaya’s face, as they had been for the past several hours, but he no longer saw him.
(He is going to die.)
The weight of his seventeen years—!
(As if I had any right...)
He flinched back from his own towering hypocrisy. Self-disgust overwhelmed him: who was he to spew such moralistic drivel?
Just what did he understand of Takaya’s seventeen years? Did he truly recognize their weight? Was he not also prone to regarding Takaya as if he were someone else entirely? Intellectually, he might accept that Kagetora’s life was Takaya‘s, but could he really treat ’Takaya’ in the exact same way and with the exact same feelings as he had ‘Kagetora?’ He had no choice but to say he could not, not as long as he still entertained the thought that ‘in the worst case, even if he were to lose this body...’
Not true, Naoe declared to himself. How were Takaya and Kagetora two different people? They were the same ‘you’—and to him, at least, the only ‘you.’
(Have I been placed on trial...?)
It seemed increasingly the case as Naoe’s mind grew haggard and blank, crushed by the weight of his thoughts and emotions.
Must he now acknowledge the existence of some great purpose manipulating him?
Was it ‘Heaven’ testing him? Testing for what—his recognition of this man called Takaya?
(How are they different?)
He gave in to the silent scream building in his head: (But he is so precious to me...!)
Must his resolve be tested?
Was Heaven testing his resolution to ‘sever these feelings’ even if it meant the end of his existence? No, not ‘Heaven’...
(You’re the one testing me, aren’t you?)
Had Kagetora contrived all of this, calculated every one of Naoe’s moves and his own? Known that Naoe would end up here—predicted the Houjou targeting him, foreseen even his imprisonment in the mirror? Naoe could not help but imagine Kagetora—Takaya orchestrating this entire situation, voluntarily yet unconsciously.
Was Kagetora testing Naoe’s resolve to sever all feelings for him?
Are you...truly capable of that?
Naoe’s heart skipped a beat as the words played back in his mind. When had he uttered them?
He had meant: Can you stop your feelings for me?
Naoe recalled his cold lofty smile. The arrogant and regal eyes staring at him from within the mirror.
“You’re not capable of it. You cannot escape from your love for me.”
Kagetora, imprisoned and stripped of all ornamentation... It was said that mirrors reflected people’s true essence, and perhaps it was true. Naoe had shivered, for that had been Kagetora’s essence; he, more than anyone should recognize it. Shorn of the artifice called ‘reason,’ what he had seen was the unique cruelty that sometimes surfaced in him.
“You cannot leave me.”
His smile, cold as ice.
“Would you deny it...?”
His silent provocation.
Naoe would be able to deny these thoughts, were they mere dark fantasy. But Kagetora within the mirror had been ‘ruthlessness’ itself, and a hopeless sense of ensnarement had frozen him in place. The truth made manifest and thrust before his eyes had terrified him with its beauty.
(Takaya-san....)
He yearned helplessly for Takaya, his gentleness and vulnerability, the sadness in his expression. I came to save you. That is the reason I’m here; it is the reason I gave myself. If I do not, the dictator within the mirror who turns his cruelty on me alone would be gone, his menace vanished from my life forever.
(Open your eyes—...)
Naoe urged the figure lying there still as death. Open your eyes, and turn that lonely gaze on me once more. Let them glitter with defiance and hostility, so long as they are fixed on only me. Tell me again in your rough and gentle voice: ‘I’m fine,’ ‘Stop worrying.’ Smile at me as you did before, graceless and awkward to conceal a solitary, wounded heart. I miss that smile so much.
(I cannot even touch you...)
Would those cold eyelids flicker open if I could take you in my arms, share my warmth with you?
Takaya’s kindness and vulnerability were so like Kagetora’s. No: they were Kagetora’s, exactly. This new you is still so young, inexperienced...pure. But that, precisely, is what makes you who you are. Your voice, your earnest eyes, the lips that shape your words, your supple back, your chest, your body, all that you form, all of it is you. You are yourself. Each part of you, all unique, all irreplaceable. Priceless treasures. I cannot lose you like this, not so simply.
Call me greedy if you wish. Why must I sever my feelings for you when I love you so?
“You’re not capable of it.”
Naoe looked up at the whisper in his mind. His own reflection gazed back at him from the dark glass.
“I will not let you escape from me.”
Kagetora’s cunning had not yet budded within this being called Takaya, but it must be there somewhere, lurking. Still asleep. And Kagetora’s ruthlessness had already begun to stir without he himself being aware of it, awakening a little more each time they saw each other again, starting with that first meeting.
(Like the beast inside of me...)
The glimpses of that grave majesty hinted at his true nature: a cold, serene, imperious nobility...
(I cannot escape.)
Kagetora stood in his guise as Takaya beside Naoe’s reflection in the glass. With cold, silent laughter in his eyes, he whispered, “I will not let you escape.”
I will drive you mad, you who desire me.
“I will never forgive you.”
(I want you...)
The tiger awaited its prey, the mesmerized fool who knew not how to dam the surging of his desires, and lured it close with temptation.
“You can touch this flesh.”
Place another sin on your towering heap. Press a knife to your wrists against the agony and adorn your hands with your blood. I will allow you to hold me then.
Even in the intoxication of your conquest, know that there is no escape for you. Despair waits to swallow you again. The last laugh will be mine.
“You cannot not win against me...”
You always knew, didn’t you? Knew everything: my feelings, my hate for Minako...you arranged everything, knowing. You foresaw the crimes I would commit out of my love for you. You knew me better than anyone. But you deliberately used ignorance as a mask so that you could hunt down your prey. So you could watch and laugh scornfully as I fell into madness, precisely as you planned.
You alone I shall never forgive for all of eternity!
You will not forgive any attempt at escape: isn’t that what you meant?
(What a selfish man you are...)
All my reproaches glance off your downcast smile, unheard. The loneliness in your eyes, your pain, your vulnerability: all of it a clever trap for the foolish beast.
(Release me...please release me.)
His head was splitting apart, his chest bursting open. How could it hurt so much when he loved so deeply? The pain was unbearable. He wanted an escape. He wanted to hold his tormentor in his arms. I want you. I want to run from you. I want you to be mine. I want your forgiveness...I want to be released from you!
(Kill me!)
I entreat you, the essence of you. Nothing lies before us but the past. The past repeats itself. I will never be able to sever my bonds to you. The fault lies not with the faltering of my will, but the strength of yours.
I don’t want to lose you. That is the reason I keep coming back. To be reincarnated means parting from you. Forgetting. I cannot allow you to belong to someone else, and know nothing.
I can’t endure this any longer.
I want to sever these chains.
But to lose you, to have someone else steal you away, is intolerable.
If only you would disappear, your existence found nowhere in this world. I cannot live if you are gone, but what does that matter?
(I want to disappear from this world with you...)
His hollow eyes fell on the Tsutsuga Mirror within its shrine. Kagetora soul was sealed inside it at this very moment. —Of course.
(This...mirror...)
A chill ran down his spine at the thought that flashed across his mind. Terrified, he tried to wipe it away, but...‘it’ was the perfect solution.
It shook him.
There existed a way: just one way he could disappear from the world forever with him without being reincarnated.
A demon slid into Naoe’s heart.
A way to monopolize him forever...
It existed.
Just one way.
“Lord,” called one of Kotarou’s subordinates, and he turned.
“One of our men has returned from Hakone with his report. It appears the tsutsuga are performing flawlessly. The soul-hunt is eighty percent complete, and only the tree-binding remains. He wishes to make a full report in person.”
“Mm. I will go now. Ask him to await me in my room,” Kotarou instructed, before returning his gaze to Naoe in the dim room.
“Was there something else on your mind...?”
“No, it’s nothing,” he responded, and directed the young subordinate to receive the messenger.
(Do not let him out of your sight.)
Ujiteru had commanded him to guard Naoe and the Tsutsuga Mirror, though there was no need for he himself, head of the Fuuma, to personally guard a prisoner; his subordinates, the Fuuma elite, were more than adequate for such a task.
Yet for some reason he could not clearly articulate to himself, he felt uneasy. He could not help but wonder at Naoe, who sat so motionlessly beside his master for hours on end.
I will kill you all!
(A baffling man,) Kotarou thought as he gazed at Naoe. What need was there for such emotion? What could he be brooding over? Kotarou could not guess.
Ujiteru, too, was an enigma to him. How could they hold such anger and hatred within themselves, agonize to such a degree over another? Why deliberately go to such lengths—such ridiculous and futile lengths—for a moment’s solace?
It was an unsolvable puzzle, Kotarou reflected.
In the old days, he had put villages to the torch, slaughtered men and women and cut down their children as they stood screaming and crying bloody tears—all in service to war.
Even now he wondered what it was he had felt for a split-second, that sensation like his heart freezing over.
He had no understanding of the process by which the heart induced tears. He had always been able to cut off the feeling at will, like a faucet. Was it really emotion, then, which evoked those tears?
“Thou understand’st not.”
Kotarou looked up as he recalled Ujiteru’s words. He would not deny it. He was incapable of analyzing their actions—nor had he any intention of doing so. For the ninja, emotions were unnecessary. Unparalleled machine-like accuracy, discernment, and intellect were what they required to execute their missions. That was all. Adding an element so unstable as emotion would only cause malfunction. He had executed many ninjas for failing to complete their missions. Fools, he had thought, as he’d beheaded them.
(Yes, they are fools.)
What he needed to do was to calculate how emotion factored into the process of accomplishing a strategy. He needed objective data.
(Understanding is impossible,) Kotarou muttered to himself as he quietly left the corridor. In any case, there was no need to feel any interest or sympathy for the enemy’s mental state, he convinced himself. By the time he he climbed the stairs, his usual arrogant confidence was back in place.
Incidents similar to those which had taken place in Nikkou were now a frequent occurrence in Hakone, though on a smaller scale. What appeared to be a face had now appeared on a cedar tree within Hakone Shrine.
The media was in an uproar over the mysterious ongoing phenomenon in Nikkou, and the area around Lake Ashi swarmed with investigators and the like. It presented a huge problem for the Fuumas’ tree-binding.
“If you’re going to complain, you might as well save your breath,” Kotarou informed his subordinates pitilessly. “As long as the tsutsugas’ soul-hunt is proceeding as planned, all else can be dealt with. We can perform the tree-bindings at night. The fact that that we cannot move as freely as we did four hundred years ago is of little import. We are ninjas; we must adapt quickly to our environment.”
They faced his rebukes in silence.
“Keep pace with Nikkou. This ceremony will be performed on a grand scale to tie together Nikkou and Hakone, the two great sacred places of the Kantou. I will accept neither delays nor mistakes. If we are clear, go. There is precious little time.”
“Yes Lord!” The ninjas saluted and disappeared an instant later.
Kotarou stood a little time longer within the rain-misted forest before heading back towards the estate.
What was that man thinking at this moment? The question absorbed him. Brushing damp hair back from his forehead, he turned his gaze to Hakone Shrine on the opposite shore.
The rain continued as evening fell.
It pattered against the roof as Kotarou approached the lightless room and said to the motionless man within, “How does it feel to pass an entire day having accomplished nothing?”
The man was still sitting in front of Takaya in the exact same position as he had several hours before. He gave no sign of having noticed Kotarou’s presence. There was only the sound of the rain outside for a long moment before Naoe broke his silence of many hours to murmur without turning, “How much longer...does he have?”
“... Well. If he so wishes, he can cling to this existence for many years yet.”
Ninjas could see even in darkness. Kotarou was slightly surprised to realize that Naoe had turned to face him.
His eyes were devoid of all emotion.
“... Do you feel no sorrow though your master lies dying before you?”
“Sorrow?” Naoe’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Does a loyal dog feel sorrow at his master’s death?”
“What?”
“Would tears prove me a loyal dog?” Naoe asked carelessly as a smile carved itself onto his haggard cheeks. “If you’re here to commiserate, get lost. If you’re here to sneer, do as you like.”
“Sneer?”
“Your absolute scorn would be preferable to your sympathy. Sympathy is tedious to those who don’t care any longer,” Naoe returned. He laughed hoarsely, derisively at himself, the bark of sound so strange that for a second Kotarou suspected he had gone mad.
“You are utterly incomprehensible to me,” Kotarou replied, baffled. “I thought that your emotions would blaze like a pyre, but you are expressionless as ice. I judged you to be a loyal vassal who would sacrifice his life for his master, but it appears I am wrong.”
“Hah...So I’m not a loyal vassal?”
“I do not understand you at all. Which is the real you? Which just a masquerade?”
“Both are real,” Naoe retorted, glaring at Kotarou. “What do you plan to do with him? You Houjou will never win him over. He’s belonged to Uesugi for four hundred years. I hardly think he would return to his birth clan’s fold at this late date.”
“We shall see. Kagetora-dono was defeated in the intra-clan war: seen another way, he was killed by the Uesugi. It would not surprise me if he hates the Uesugi, in his heart of hearts.”
Naoe’s lips twisted slightly, perhaps at memories of his own role in the assault on Kagetora during the Otate no Ran. He immediately shook them away. “What, then, of the Houjou who offered up their son to the alliance, then abandoned him when it fell apart? ...Still, four hundred years have passed. All of this is ancient history. Any resentment and hatred has long been forgotten.”
“Are you so certain of that?”
“Fear not, I’m the only one he hates,” he answered with a self-mocking smile. Though the words were full of despair, Naoe’s voice was perfectly composed. “What is the Houjou scheming? You were the ones who stole the Tsutsuga Mirror and bound the souls into the trees at Futarasan Shrine, weren’t you? What are you planning to do at Toushou Shrine? Is it envy that drives you—jealousy of Ieyasu, the supreme conqueror?”
“I have no intention of telling our plans to an enemy.”
“To come back now in an attempt to re-enact the wars of the Sengoku...what fools you are. No matter how much you losers flounder...no, I’d say your struggles only add to the glory of the victor.” Naoe snorted a laugh. “Lord Ieyasu must be chuckling with glee at this very moment.”
“—You are an interesting man,” Kotarou mused with his usual indifference. “One such as you would provide an endless amount of data for my empirical observations. You are of great interest to me. I would not be adverse to studying your mental state. It will be of help in my strategies hereafter.”
“Humph. So you’re planning to make me your guinea pig?”
“A sample. The mentality of a vassal.”
“Not interested,” Naoe spat, turning his back on Kotarou. They listened to the rain in silence.
Kotarou broke it to say, “Do you wish to know the location of the male Tsutsuga Mirror?”
“What?”
“Kagetora-dono will soon be bound to the sacred tree at Hakone Shrine. You should value what little time you have left.”
“What did you...?!”
Kotarou departed without further comment. Shaken, Naoe remained frozen in place.
Rain violently struck the windows.
Comments
Wow, you were so quick to
Wow, you were so quick to update again! Thank you very much for this chapter - I thought it had a lot of interesting things going on. It was especially nice to hear Naoe think about the relationship between Kagetora and Takaya, and his own feelings on the subject.
The language you used in the translation was beautiful as always, it's always a pleasure to read.
From the novels you can get a
From the novels you can get a much better sense of why Naoe thinks the difference between Takaya and Kagetora is irrelevant, but also why Takaya is so stuck on it.
On the other hand, I can just imagine Chiaki thinking, "Oh great, time for another Naoe mid-mission brooding session." Can you imagine how many of these he's gone through over four hundred years?
Projecting?
Thanks so much for these translations! I love reading them.
I was particularly struck by Naoe accusing Kagetora of all evil on earth here. Kagetora manipulates him, is cruel to him--he even knew Naoe would rape Minako, apparently. Some of that has to be projecting; I can't see Kagetora wanting Minako to be raped and murdered. But how much is Naoe blaming his agony on Kagetora, and how much is he right about? Hmm. . .
* * *
Can't I even dream? Would you shut my heart in my chest? -Kagetora, Yonakidori Blues
I wonder...
The abuse in Kagetora and Naoe's relationship makes total sense to me as a leftover from the days when people led armies at sixteen and did everything they could just to survive, including plenty of patricide and fratricide (in fact, I kinda think of the Houjou brothers as one of the miracles of the Sengoku for actually working harmoniously together).
I don't necessarily think that Naoe is right about how far Kagetora is willing to go to manipulate him, but interestingly enough, there is corroboration from other characters about how manipulative Kagetora is (one example comes in up chapter 14). It seems rather likely that Kagetora used Minako in part to make Naoe jealous, though whether he thought Naoe capable of raping her? ...On the other hand, love for Kagetora has always been twisted up with pain and betrayal: his biological father Ujiyasu sent him to the Takeda as a hostage when he was just a baby, then his brother Ujimasa did the same with the Uesugi; his adopted father Kenshin died without bothering to secure his future; his adopted brother Kagekatsu killed him. Take that together with how women were treated in the Sengoku (see Sassa Narimasa and Sayuri for one horrendous example) and even how women were treated in the 60s, and...I guess I can't rule it out of the realm of possibility.
But I wonder if Mirage of Blaze might one day be known as one of the greatest anti-war stories of all time for actually elucidating and maybe dealing with all that trauma. Who in the Sengoku could have dreamed of Japan today, at peace? Maybe part of the reason Kagetora shut away his memories was that he lived too much in the past, that he wanted the possibility of peace to heal himself and his relationships. That's my hope for this story, anyway. :)
amazing
My love for Mirage of Blaze is back again full force. It never died mind you, but it was buried beneath years of not reading any new material from the novels and life and work taking me away. Wow, I'm blown away. Reading this again and I'm in love all over again as if years didn't even pass xD your language and style is so sophisticated and elegant and poignant... it's hitting all the right notes for me in conveying the very complex feelings of this novel. Amazing work so thank you.
The chapter was delicious... what can I say? I'm a sucker for Naoe's anguish ... err I mean I enjoy reading Naoe's reflections and internal monologues :D The mind of this man is a real piece of work lol the complexity, and somehow contradicting, feelings he has for Kagetora are always such a pleasure to read, and yet painful. It's what makes Mirage of Blaze this amazing novel.
Ugh sorry for the long comment and for any typos >_< I got carried away xD
One thing I love about Mirage
One thing I love about Mirage is the self-awareness of its characters, and the fact that however deeply they dig into themselves, sometimes there are things only others can see clearly--just like real people. I totally agree that Naoe is an amazingly complex and contraditory character, which you can really only get from the novels. Though I must admit, I've probably lost hair trying to translate his internal (and sometimes external) monologues and reflections!