Inuchiyo, on the other hand, pursued the affair openly. He told his friends that he was going to marry Master Asano's daughter, and asked them to intercede for him.

Mataemon explained his predicament to Tokichiro. The day of the engagement was approaching. He had managed to hold him off so far with such excuses as "Her mother's been in poor health lately" and "My wife says this is an unlucky year." But he was running out of excuses and was at his wits' end as to what to do next.

"People say you're a man of great ability. Don't you have any ideas?" Mataemon drained his cup and put it down.

If Tokichiro was drunk, it did not show on his face. Until then he had been enjoying his own idle fantasies, but as he listened to Mataemon's problem, he suddenly became very serious.

I have a tough rival, he thought. Inuchiyo was the "handsome man" that Tokichiro disliked so much, but he was hardly what might be called a model one. Raised in a coun­try at war, he was brave but suffered from a stubborn and self-indulgent streak.

Inuchiyo had fought his first campaign with Nobunaga's army at the age of thirteen, and had been man enough to return with an enemy's head. In a recent battle, when a re­tainer of Nobunaga's brother had rebelled, Inuchiyo had fought savagely in Nobunaga's vanguard. When an enemy warrior shot an arrow into Inuchiyo's right eye, Inuchiyo had leaped from his horse, cut off the man's head, and presented it to Nobunaga. All without removing the arrow.

He was a daring, handsome man, although his right eye was now closed to a narrow slit; it looked as though a single needle had been laid on his beautiful, fair skin. Even No­bunaga could not control Inuchiyo's impetuosity.

"So what should I do about Inuchiyo?" Mataemon asked.

They sat in despair together; even Tokichiro, as resourceful as he normally was, didn't know what to suggest. Finally he said, "Well, don't worry. I'll think of something."

Tokichiro returned to the castle. He had done nothing to further his own cause and had only shared Mataemon's problems. But he considered it an honor that his sweet­heart's father had relied on him and confided in him, even if those troubles became a burden to him.

Tokichiro realized he was deeply in love with Nene.

Is that what love is all about? he asked himself, trying to understand the mysterious workings of his own heart. Saying the word "love" gave him an unpleasant feeling. He

disliked the word, which seemed to be on everyone's lips. Hadn't he given up on love since his youth? Certainly his looks and bearing—the weapons with which he fought against the world—had been derided by the beautiful women he had met. But he, too, was moved by beauty and romance. And he had a deep store of patience that frivolous beauties and aristocrats could never imagine.

Although he had received nothing but contempt, he was not the kind of man who gave up. Someday I will show them, he vowed. The women of the world would fight for the attentions of this ugly little man. This thought was the goad that drove him on. It was this feeling that had formed his outlook on women and love before he even knew it. Tokichiro had nothing but contempt for men who worshiped the beauty of women. He despised those who turned love into a fantasy and a mystery, thinking it the highest good in human life, amusing themselves with their own melancholy.

Nevertheless, he thought, it's all right in Nene's case—even to say that I've fallen in love. Love and hate are matters entirely up to the individual, and when he got used to the idea, Tokichiro compromised too. Just before going to sleep, he shut his eyes and imagined Nene's profile.

Tokichiro was off duty the following day as well. His new house in the paulownia stand, which he had visited the day before, was in need of some repairs, and he had to arrange for furniture. But he lingered inside the castle in order to call on Inuchiyo, who was always at Nobunaga's side. Inuchiyo looked down on Nobunaga's retainers from the raised wooden platform with a gaze more arrogant than his master's. When people like Tokichiro came to petition Nobunaga, Inuchiyo listened with a grin, the little dimples showing at the side of his mouth.

Monkey, again? Inuchiyo did not even have to say it. Somehow his single eye looked right through you. Tokichiro thought he was arrogant and did not mix with him much.

While Tokichiro was talking with the guard at the central gate, someone walked by and said, "Master Tokichiro, are you off duty today?"

Casually looking around, Tokichiro saw that it was Inuchiyo. Running after him, he said, "Master Inuchiyo. There is a delicate matter I would like to speak with you about.”

Inuchiyo gave him his usual superior look. "Is this business or personal?"

"As I said, it's a delicate matter, so it's personal."

"If that's the case, right now is inappropriate. I'm just back from an errand for His Lordship, and I don't have time for a chat. Later." With this flat refusal, he left abruptly.

An unlikable fellow, but he does have some good points, Tokichiro had to admit.  Left alone, he stared vacantly after Inuchiyo. Then he too went off, walking with long strides. He was headed for the castle town. Arriving at his new house, he found a man washing the gate and another man carrying in baggage.

Have I got the wrong house? Tokichiro asked himself.

As he looked around, a man's voice rang out from the kitchen. "Hey! Master Kinoshita. Over here."

"Oh, it's you."

"What do you mean, 'Oh, it's you'? Where have you been? Letting people furnish and

clean your house!" The man was one of his former colleagues in the kitchen. "Well, well.  You've done rather well for yourself in no time at all." Tokichiro went in as if he were a guest in his own house. There was a new lacquered chest of drawers and a shelf. These were all gifts from friends who had heard of his promotion, but who, upon finding that the happy-go-lucky master of the house was out, had cleaned the place, moved in the furniture, and finally gotten around to washing the gate.

"Thank you. You're too kind." Embarrassed, Tokichiro quickly set about to help them with whatever he could do on his own. All that was left was to fill up the sake flasks and put them on the trays.

"Master Kinoshita," said one of the castle suppliers, who felt indebted to him from the time Tokichiro had worked as overseer for charcoal and firewood. Peeking into the kitchen, Tokichiro found a chubby maidservant washing and scrubbing. "This is a girl from our village. You must be busy these days, so why don't you employ her for the time being? Tokichiro took advantage of the offer and said, "I'd also like a manservant and a handyman, so if you know of anyone, I'd be most grateful." Then they sat down in a circle, and the housewarming party began.

It's a good thing I came here today. Imagine if I, the householder, had not shown up.

Tokichiro was ashamed of himself. He had not considered himself to be easygoing, but now he could see that he must be at least a bit. As they drank, the wives of his new colleagues in the neighborhood dropped by to congratulate Tokichiro on his promotion.

"Hey, Master Kinoshita! Master of the house!" one of the visitors called.

"What's up?"

"What do you mean, 'What's up?' Have you gone around to the other houses in the ghborhood to pay your respects?"

"No, not yet."

"What? Not yet? Are you the kind of person who dances and sings, waiting for people to come and pay their respects to you? Well, you'd better put on your best clothes and go on one round right away. You can take care of two problems at once by bowing to each house and telling them that you've moved to the neighborhood and that you've been appointed to the stables."

A few days later he had his help. A man from the same village as the maidservant came asking for work. And he employed another man. Somehow or another he had acquired a small residence and three servants, and was the master of his own house, despite his modest stipend. Now when Tokichiro left home—wearing, of course, his secondhand blue cotton coat with the white paulownia crest on the back—he was seen off by the maid and servants.