On making inquiries, he found the previous tenant had been a man by the name of Komori Shikibu. A while had passed, it seemed, and the house was rather in disrepair, but in his eyes it was nothing less than a mansion.

"That stand of paulownia in back is auspicious, because the Kinoshita family crest has been a paulownia since the time of our ancestors," Hiyoshi said to the servant. He wasn't sure this was true, but it sounded right. He thought he had seen such a crest on his fa­ther's old armor chest or sword scabbard.

In the mellow mood he was in now, he would warm up to those around him, and if there was nothing of overriding importance, no necessity to have cool nerves, he would give in to his elation and his tendency to be talkative. Still, after the words were out of his mouth, he admonished himself for not being more judicious, not because his words came from ill will or fear, but because he himself did not attach any importance to the matter. Beyond that, he assumed it would spawn criticism that Monkey was a braggart. He might admit to himself, It's true; I am a bit of a braggart. Nevertheless, small-hearted, fastidious people who, because of his loquaciousness, harbored misconceptions about him or were prejudiced against him, were never to be his allies during his illustrious career.

Later he was seen in the bustling center of Kiyosu, where he bought furnishings. Then, at a secondhand clothing shop, he saw a coat, meant to be worn over armor, that bore a white paulownia crest. Tokichiro went straight in to ask the price. It was cheap. He quickly paid for it and just as quickly tried it on. It was a little large, but not unbecom­ingly so, so he kept it on as he continued on his way. The blue cotton was thin and rip­pled in the breeze as he walked and some rich-looking material, like gold brocade, was stitched only into the collar. He wondered who the wearer had been, the man who had the paulownia crest dyed in white on the back of the garment.

How I'd like to show this to my mother! he thought joyfully.

Right there, in the prosperous part of town, he was assailed by an almost unbearable

emotion. It went back to the pottery shop in Shinkawa. He was forced to recall what a miserable figure he had made, barefoot, pushing the handcart piled high with pottery past the staring men, the beautiful inhabitants of the town. He stopped by a dry goods store where high-quality woven goods from Kyoto lined the shelves.

"Please deliver this without fail," he admonished, putting down the money for his purchases.

Outside again, he noted it was always like this: after half a day of leisure, his purse was empty.

"Steamed Buns" proclaimed the magnificent sign with mother-of-pearl letters that hung from the roof at a street corner. These buns were a specialty of Kiyosu, in whose crowded shops travelers mingled with the locals.

"Welcome!" said a servant girl in a red apron. "Come in. Will you have some here, or buy some to take home?"

Tokichiro sat down on a stool and said, "Both. First I'll have one to eat here. Then I'd like you to deliver a box—and make it a big one—to my house in Nakamura. Ask the packhorse driver when he'll be making a trip up that way. I'll leave a tip to cover that."

A man with his back to Tokichiro was hard at work, but he seemed to be the owner of the shop. "Many thanks for your patronage, sir," he said.

"You seem to be doing good business. I was just now asking to have some buns sent to my home."

"Certainly, sir."

"It doesn't matter when, but I'll entrust this to you. Would you please put this letter in the box with the buns?" He handed the shopkeeper a letter from his sleeve. On the en­velope was written, "To Mother, Tokichiro."

The shopkeeper took it and asked if it really wasn't urgent.

"No, as I said, it's not. Anytime is all right. Your buns have always been my mother's favorites."

While he was talking, he took a mouthful, and the taste of the bun brought a flood of memories and, very quickly, tears to his eyes. These were the buns his mother loved so much. He recalled the days of his youth, when he had passed by this place, yearning to buy some for her, and craving one for himself so keenly that a hand seemed to be coming out of his throat. In those days he could only push his handcart on with abject patience.

A samurai who had been looking in his direction finished off his plate of buns, stood up, and called, "Isn't it Master Kinoshita?" He had a young girl with him.

Tokichiro bowed deeply and with great courtesy. It was the archer Asano Mataemon. He had been kind to Tokichiro from the time he had been a servant and he was inclined to be especially polite to him. As the shop was far away from the castle grounds, Matae­mon was relaxed and in high spirits.

"You're alone, eh?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Won't you join us? I'm with my daughter."

"Oh, your daughter?" Tokichiro looked toward where, a bench away, a girl of sixteen or seventeen rearranged herself to have her back to him, leaving exposed only the white nape of her neck, in the midst of this boisterous crowd. She was lovely. It wasn't that she

only appeared this way to Tokichiro, who was equipped with a sharply appreciative eye for beauty. Anyone would say the same; she was beautiful, no two ways about it, a woman far above the ordinary.

At Mataemon's beckoning, Tokichiro sat down before the possessor of those bright eyes.

"Nene," said Mataemon. It was a pretty name, which suited her character well. Wise eyes shone serenely in the midst of her finely formed features. "This is Kinoshita Tokichiro. He's recently been promoted from kitchen staff to duties in the stables. You shoul meet him."

"Yes, well…" Nene blushed. "I'm already acquainted with Master Kinoshita."

"Eh? What do you mean, acquainted? When and where did you meet?"

"Master Tokichiro's sent me letters and presents."

Mataemon looked taken aback. "I'm shocked. Did you reply to his letters?"

"I've sent nothing at all in reply."

"That's all well and good, but not to show them to me, your father, is inexcusable!”

"I told my mother each time, and she had the gifts returned, except those for special occasions."

Mataemon looked at his daughter, then at Tokichiro. "As a father, I'm always worried, but I was really careless. I didn't know. I had heard that Monkey was a shrewd man, but never imagined he would be interested in my daughter!"

Tokichiro scratched his head. He was very embarrassed, blushing a deep red. When Mataemon began to laugh, he was relieved, but still flushed. Even though he could not tell how Nene felt about him, he was in love with her.

2 SECOND YEAR OF KOJI1556

Characters and Places

Asano Mataemon, Oda retainer

Nene, Mataemon's daughter

Okoi, Mataemon's wife

Maeda Inuchiyo, Oda Nobunaga's page

Yamabuchi Ukon, Oda retainer

Tokugawa Ieyasu, lord of Mikawa

Sessai, Zen Monk and military

adviser to the Imagawa clan

Imagawa Yoshimoto, lord of Suruga

Imagawa Ujizane, Yoshimoto's eldest son

Yoshiteru, thirteenth Ashikaga shogun

Lord Nagoya, Nobunaga's cousin

Ikeda Shonyu, Oda retainer

and friend of Tokichiro

Takigawa Kazumasu, senior Oda retainer

Sumpu, capital of Suruga

Okazaki, capital of Mikawa

Kyoto, imperial capital of Japan