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The time was the Warring States period, and Oda Nobunaga’s siege of Odani castle finally reached its end. Azai Nagamasa sent his wife and daughters back to his brother-in-law and together with his son committed suicide. Their bodies disappeared in the flames forever, and Odani castle fell. The Azai clan was no more. For many, it marked the end, but for some, it marked the beginning on their way to recognition.
One of them said goodbye to his friend and, with his lord’s words engraved deeply in his heart, left everyone behind to look for someone worthy of his loyalty.
The other one was asleep in a temple a few hours away unaware that his life would drastically change within a year.
Ishida Sakichi sat on a shore, watching the small waves washing his feet. Ever since he could remember, his mother had told him not to play around the lake for he could be caught and pulled inside the deep, cold waters, and he would never be seen again. Despite her warnings and despite the talks in the village about people seeing ghosts of dead coming out from the lake during the night, Sakichi loved the lake. Sometimes in the morning, the deep fog made it seem eerie, but Sakichi was not one to be easily frightened by superstitious talk. And in his eyes, the lake was magnificent.
Sitting on the shore and watching the ships he dreamt about crossing it one day. He wanted to see the capital. He wanted to see the land of Japan. Listening to monks in the temple talking about a city called Sakai inspired many of his dreams. However, the constant fighting and restless times in Ōmi made all of his dreams seem unattainable.
A noise behind him startled him. Sakichi turned around, and his eyes fell on a male figure clad in black and blue armour lying face down on the grass. Sakichi’s eyes went wide, and he scanned the area around him but didn’t find anyone else. He knew he would stand no chance if someone were to attack him. He got up, his heart beating faster than normal. He wanted to run away, but the man groaned. Sakichi bit his lower lip. The man rolled onto his back, and Sakichi could see his chest rising and falling. He made a small step ahead. And another. And one more. The man’s armour was dirty. His left bracer was missing. Sakichi could swear there was blood mixed with the dirt. He moved carefully, trying not to make any noise. He knew he should just leave the man be and be on his way back to the temple. Nothing good ever came from approaching strangers.
Before he knew it, he was kneeling beside the man, looking at his face. He was younger than Sakichi expected. He seemed to be around the age of Sakichi’s brother, but where Yasaburō’s features were soft and friendly, the man’s ones were sharp making him seem unapproachable even while being unconscious. Or so Sakichi thought.
A firm grip on his left shoulder, a forearm pressed to his neck, and Sakichi found himself on his back, his elbows digging into the wet grass. He kicked his legs in an attempt to shake the man off, but it only made him press his body more closely to Sakichi’s to hold him still.
“Don’t move,” the man whispered, adding more strength to his grip on Sakichi’s shoulder. Then he rose his head and looked down at him.
Sakichi’s breath was laboured and his heart was beating frantically.
The man stiffened, his mouth opened slightly and his eyes widened. His grip lost its strength and the man sat up straight, setting Sakichi’s body free. More than before Sakichi wanted to run away, but he couldn’t move.
“I’m sorry,” the man said. “You surprised me.”
Sakichi was looking up at the sky, at the white clouds moving and changing their shapes, his heartbeat slowly calming down.
“Are you alright?” the man asked.
Sakichi turned his head to look at him. There were smudges of dirt on the man’s face and on a closer look, he had deep shadows under his eyes and showed signs of exhaustion. His black hair was messy and the bangs were falling to his face.
Their eyes met.
“Why is a girl here all alone?” the stranger asked.
Sakichi’s eyes got wide, and he got up to his feet, forgetting his fear.
“Who’re you calling a girl? I’m a boy!” he shouted, flushed, curling his fingers into fists.
“I see,” the man muttered and once again fell down onto his back, eyes closed.
“What’re you doing? Are you alright?” Sakichi demanded, but this time he didn’t make any movement toward the fallen man.
“...’ve any food?”
“Eh?”
“…hungry.”
Sakichi narrowed his eyes. He didn’t trust the man, but he did look exhausted. Sakichi reached into the bag he had tied to his obi and pulled out two rice balls.
“Here.” He reached out his hands.
The man opened his left eye, looked at the offered hands, and sat up quicker than Sakichi thought possible, a flash of surprise in his eyes.
“Thanks.”
“How long did you go without food?” Sakichi asked, lowering himself to the ground, but still keeping a distance between them.
“Couple days,” the man mumbled around the rice.
“Why?”
The man finished eating and looked at Sakichi.
“Because I’m just a wandering dog without a master.”
Sakichi tilted his head. He could hear bitterness and sadness in the man’s voice.
“Sometimes even a stray dog will find a new master,” Sakichi offered, turning his face to watch the lake, wind playing with his hair. He brushed it away from his face. “The monks at the temple also took a stray dog in.” Sakichi, feeling the stranger’s eyes on him, looked at him again. The man’s expression was unreadable, his grey eyes intent. “Someone will pick you up, too,” Sakichi finished hurriedly.
“Are you making fun of me?” the man asked.
“There’s a war outside,” Sakichi shrugged. “Able men are needed. The monks were saying how Oda Nobunaga and his men hire anyone who comes to them.”
“As if I would serve someone like that!” the man barked back. “He attacked his own sister! My brother died because of him!”
Sakichi opened his mouth, but no words came to his mind, so he closed it again. He turned towards the lake, his fingers playing with the grass. The wind was getting stronger and the sky greyer. He should probably head back to the temple soon.
“Azai Nagamasa told me to live,” the man suddenly said. “He noticed someone low as me and praised me. How could I betray him by serving the Oda?”
“Is it a betrayal if you’ll keep living as he told you?” Sakichi said quietly, wondering why did he still feel the need to talk to the stranger. Lately, there had been little that interested him.
The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. They kept sitting on the grass, watching the lake, the wind getting stronger. After a while, Sakichi dared to glance to his side. The man was lying on the grass, eyes closed. Sakichi let out a sigh.
“Oi, get up,” he ordered. “I’ll take you to the temple. They’ll let you stay for the night.”
The man opened his eyes, squinting at Sakichi under his lashes.
“Why would you do that?”
“It’s going to rain,” Sakichi said, pointing to the sky. “And there’s spare food for one stray dog.”
“You little…”
Sakichi started to run. It had been a while since he laughed out loud.
*
“Here,” Sakichi said, putting down a bowl of hot tea in front of the man. During the time Sakichi was helping in the kitchen, the stranger washed and put on some old clothes the monks gave him. His hair was wet and his side bangs were now reaching his chin, making him look much younger than before. The man thanked him and clasped the bowl between his palms, seemingly enjoying the warmth.
“You should drink it while it’s hot,” a deep voice sounded from the entrance. “Sakichi has his way with tea.”
Sakichi turned around and bowed.
“Good evening, Master Dōken.”
Dōken acknowledged Sakichi’s presence with a nod.
“And who is our visitor?”
“He’s a…” Sakichi started and realized that he had never got the man’s name. He looked on the floor in shame. What a blunder. How could he be so stupid?
“I am sorry for my late introduction. My name is Tōdō Takatora and until recently I served Azai Nagamasa,” his voice carried clearly across the room. “Thank you for your kind hospitality.”
“There’s no need to be so formal,” Dōken said. “I’m Dōken, the head monk of this temple. Sakichi,” Dōken put a hand on Sakichi’s shoulder, “go and bring us dinner.”
Sakichi hurried to the kitchen, taking the rice and small plates with vegetables, and carefully carried them back. As he was nearing the room, he could hear the two men talking.
“...make Sakichi bring you here?” Dōken was asking.
“If my presence is unwelcomed, I’ll be on my way,” the man, Takatora, said, his voice cold.
Dōken laughed.
“That’s not what I meant. We’re used to giving shelter to those in need. But Sakichi… he doesn’t trust people easily.”
Sakichi scowled. He wanted to go and shut Dōken up for saying unnecessary things, but Takatora started to answer.
“I’m not sure myself. I attacked him, mistook him for a girl, and made him give me his food. When I pretended to fall asleep so he could leave, he offered to bring me here instead.”
Sakichi opened the shōji, a little bit more forcefully than needed, and went inside.
“I just felt like feeding a stray dog,” he announced, not looking at either of them. He kneeled down and started to put rice into bowls.
“Sakichi,” Dōken sighed. “How many times did I tell you to watch the way you speak with people.”
“It’s alright, Master Dōken,” Takatora said and turned to Sakichi. “Thank you.”
Sakichi nodded and put the bowls full of rice in front of Dōken and Takatora. Then he added the small plates with cooked vegetables. When the two men were served, he took his own bowl, placed his hands together, and expressed his gratitude. Giving his share away earlier made him starving.
“So, Master Tōdō, what are you planning to do from now on?” Dōken asked.
“Sakichi said something earlier that made me think,” Takatora said, his eyes unfocused. “I’ll go find some Azai retainers who surrendered to Oda and take it from there.”
Sakichi gripped his chopsticks, looking intently at his rice, trying to ignore the warm feeling in his chest.
“Sakichi did?”
“Aah,” Takatora let out an affirmative noise but didn’t elaborate.
Sakichi could feel Dōken’s eyes on him, but he refused to acknowledge it. He continued eating as if the conversation wasn’t happening around him.
“Sakichi is a good boy, sometimes too nice for his own good,” Dōken said. “His thinking is quick and he excels in several fields. He could make it big out there. It’s a shame his father decided to entrust him to the temple.”
“Master Dōken!” Sakichi protested.
“Don’t be modest, now,” Dōken laughed. “I know you dream of something bigger than this rural life.”
Sakichi glanced at Takatora, who watched him with an unreadable face. Sakichi scowled at him. Takatora rose his eyebrows in question. Sakichi returned to his rice. There was no need to share anything with someone who was going to leave in the morning.
“Do you have a dream, Master Tōdō?” Dōken asked, and Sakichi tried his hardest not to roll his eyes. The old man was always so invasive.
Takatora was chewing quietly for a while, then he put down his chopsticks and said: “I want to become a lord of the castle I’d build myself.”
Sakichi’s eyes widened, and he couldn’t wipe the surprise from his face. Takatora was no one. There was no way that he would accomplish his wish.
“See, Sakichi,” Dōken squeezed his shoulder, “people are allowed to dream big.”
“I know you think that my dream is impossible to achieve, but I’ll do everything to make it true. No matter how many years it’d take,” Takatora’s voice was firm, no hesitation, his eyes unusually lively. He meant every word he said. Sakichi was sure of it.
“Do you have a dream, Sakichi?” Takatora asked, watching him with that, by now familiar, intense look.
There was something different about Takatora’s eyes, but Sakichi didn’t know what. He could no longer hold his gaze. He looked away.
A dream. Did he have a dream? He wanted to see the provinces outside of Ōmi, but that didn’t seem to compare to what Takatora had said. A castle. His own castle. That didn’t sound bad.
“There’s no need to think so hard about it,” Dōken said, raffling Sakichi’s hair. Sakichi pushed his hand away. “You’re still young and have plenty of time to find it. Now—” Dōken got up— “I trust you can show our guest his sleeping space.”
Sakichi nodded.
“Goodnight, Master Tōdō. Sakichi.” Dōken bid them goodbye and left.
Sakichi started to clean, avoiding looking at Takatora. Takatora seemed like a decent person, but being alone with him again made him remember when Takatora had him pinned to the ground and the fear and helplessness he had felt. He hated it. He never wanted to die in fear.
The bowls clanked against each other and Sakichi startled. His hands were shaking slightly.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” Takatora muttered, shifting, so the distance between them grew a bit.
Sakichi looked at him with wide eyes.
“I’m not afraid!”
Takatora let out a bitter sigh and said: “Can you show me where I sleep?”
Sakichi bit down on his lower lip, putting down the dishes.
“Can you tell me a little bit more about your dream?” he asked, willing his hands to stop shaking. “Please?” he added after a short consideration.
Takatora closed his eyes for a moment, unfolded his legs, and ordered: “Make yourself comfortable.”
Sakichi moved to the other side of the room, so he could have a clear view on Takatora, pulling his legs to his chest.
“I and my older brother started to serve Azai Nagamasa when I was fourteen. During that year we fought the Oda army at Anegawa.” Takatora looked at the tatami, his bangs covering his face. “I killed, and Lord Nagamasa gave me a letter of commendation. It made me happy that someone like Lord Nagamasa would pay attention to me, that he’d recognize me. I wished nothing more than to serve him and help him realize the world he dreamt of. A world without war.” Takatora looked at Sakichi. “Two months later my brother was killed by Oda’s forces, and the fate of my clan was put on my shoulders. Because of Lord Nagamasa’s praise, others were jealous of me and my brother was the only person I could trust. After he died, I had no one. But then… I made a friend. He didn’t care about what others were saying about me, and we promised to each other to support Lord Nagamasa because we wanted him to succeed. We wanted to walk the same path with Lord Nagamasa, we wanted to see his dream, our dream, come true. And when it’d happen, I’d build a castle. Perhaps I’d even build one for my friend.”
“What happened to your friend?” Sakichi asked.
Takatora avoided his gaze.
“We realized that what we were chasing after with Lord Nagamasa was different. Without him around, our dreams were different. We went our separate ways… looking for continuation… Why am I even telling you all of this? I must be really out of it,” Takatora mumbled, burying his fingers into his black hair, shaking his head.
“Thank you,” Sakichi said, trying to convey his gratitude in his tone. One thing was reading about heroes of old times, and one thing was hearing the real experience. One day, he would like to show someone his own loyalty. One day, perhaps even his life would have a purpose.
“Your turn,” Takatora prompted, closing his eyes.
“There’s nothing to say,” Sakichi said and lowered his chin on the knees. “My father is a provincial samurai in a nearby village, I have an older brother and three years ago, I was sent here for education.”
“What do you dream about?” Takatora asked, his voice heavy with sleep.
Why did he keep asking? A dream. Sakichi didn’t know. There were so many things he wanted to do, wanted to experience, but there was nothing concrete. He just… wanted…
*
When Sakichi woke up, he was alone in the room. He heard from Dōken that Takatora had left with the dawn, leaving behind only his words of gratitude.