“Yes? what do you want?" Hiyoshi answered in an unusually energetic voice, bounding up to Ofuku. Thinking that talking about the events of the previous night wasn't a good idea, he had not told anyone about it, but he was very proud of himself—so much so that he secretly expected his master's praise.
Ofuku, accompanied by the brawniest of the shop's clerks, the one who most intimidated Hiyoshi, said, "Monkey, you can go today."
"Go where?" Hiyoshi asked in surprise.
"Home. You still have one, don't you?"
"I do, but—"
"You're dismissed as of today. You can keep your clothes."
"We're giving you this because of the mistress's kindness," said the clerk, holding out the salt and the bundle of Hiyoshi's clothes. "Since you don't have to pay your respects, you can leave right away."
Stunned, Hiyoshi felt the blood rush to his face. The anger in his eyes seemed to leap out at Ofuku. Stepping back, Ofuku took the bundle of clothes and the bag of salt from the clerk, put them on the ground, and hurriedly walked away. From the look in Hiyoshi's eyes, it seemed that he might chase after the retreating Ofuku, but actually couldn't see a thing; he was blinded by his tears. He remembered his mother's tear-stained face when she had warned him that if he was dismissed once more, she wouldn't be able to face anyone, and that it would be a disgrace for her brother-in-law. The memory of her face and body, so haggard from poverty and childbearing, made him sniff back his tears. His nose stopped running, but he stood there motionless for a moment, not knowing what to do next. His blood seethed with anger.
"Monkey," called one of the workers, "what's the matter? You messed up again, hhh? He told you to leave, didn't he? You're fifteen, and wherever you go they'll give you your meals at least. Be a man and stop blubbering."
Without stopping their work, the other workers made fun of him. Their laughter and jeers filled his ears, and he resolved not to cry in front of them. Instead, he swung around to face them, baring his white teeth.
"Who's blubbering? I'm sick and tired of this boring old shop. This time I'm going to serve a samurai!" Fixing the bundle of clothes on his back, he tied the bag of salt to a piece of bamboo and shouldered it jauntily.
"Going to serve a samurai!" jeered one of the workers. "What a way to say good-bye!” They all laughed.
Nobody hated Hiyoshi, but no one felt sorry for him either. For his part, once he had taken his first step beyond the earthen wall, his heart filled with the clear blue of the sky. He felt he had been set free.
* * *
Kato Danjo had fought at the battle of Azukizaka in the autumn of the preceding year. Impatient to distinguish himself, he had dashed into the midst of the Imagawa forces and had been so badly injured that he had been forced to come home for good. Nowadays he slept all the time in the house at Yabuyama. As the days became colder toward the end of the year, the spear wound in his stomach gave him constant trouble. He was always groaning with pain.
Oetsu took good care of her husband, and that day she was washing his pus-stained undergarments in a stream that ran through their compound. She heard a carefree voice ainging, and wondered who it might be. Annoyed, she stood up and looked around. Although the house was only halfway up Komyoji Hill, from inside the earthen wall it was possible to see the road at the foot of the hill, and beyond it the farmland of Nakamura, he Shonai River, and the wide Owari Plain.
It was bitterly cold. The New Year's sun was sinking hazily toward the horizon, bringing an end to another day. The singer's voice was loud, as if he had experienced neither the harshness of the world nor any human suffering. The song was a popular tune from the end of the last century, but here in Owari, farmers' daughters had corrupted it into a spinning song.
Well, can that be Hiyoshi? she asked herself as the figure reached the foot of the hill. He carried a dirty cloth bundle on his back, and a bag hung from the end of a bamboo rod over his shoulder. She was surprised at how big he had gotten in such a short time, and that, although he had grown so much, he was still as happy-go-lucky as ever.
"Auntie! What are you doing standing out here?" Hiyoshi bobbed his head in salutation. His song gave a certain cadence to his step, and his voice, so totally unaffected, gave his greeting a certain humorous tone. His aunt's expression was clouded; she looked like someone who had forgotten how to laugh.
"What are you doing here? Have you come with a message for the priests at the Komyoji?"
Hard put to answer, Hiyoshi scratched his head.
"The pottery shop let me go. I came here thinking I'd better let my uncle know."
"What? Again?" Oetsu said, frowning. "You came here after being sent away again?"
Hiyoshi thought about telling her the reason, but somehow it did not seem to be worth the trouble. In a sweeter tone he said, "Is my uncle at home? If he is, would you let me talk with him, please?"
"Absolutely not! My husband was badly wounded in battle. We don't know whether today or tomorrow will be his last day. You're not to go near him." She spoke bluntly, her tone severe. "I really feel sorry for my sister, having a child like you."
When he heard his aunt's news, he was dispirited. "Well, I wanted to ask my uncle a favor, but I guess it's useless, isn't it?"
"What kind of favor?"
"Since he's a samurai, I thought he could find me a place in a samurai household."
"What in the world! How old are you now?"
"Fifteen."
"At fifteen, you should know a bit about the world."
"That's why I don't want to work in any old boring place. Auntie, do you suppose there's an opening somewhere?"
"How should I know?" Oetsu glared at him, her eyes full of reproach. "A samurai household doesn't accept a man if he doesn't fit in with the family traditions. What are they going to do with a wild, carefree boy like you?"
Just then, a maidservant approached and said, "Madam, please come quickly. Your husband's pain is worse again."
Without another word, Oetsu ran to the house. Abandoned, Hiyoshi gazed at the darkening clouds over Owari and Mino. After a while he went through the gate in the earthen wall and hung around outside the kitchen. What he wanted most was to go home to Nakamura and see his mother, but he was held back by the thought of his stepfather who made him feel that the fence around his own house was made of thorns. He decide that his first priority was to find an employer. He had come to Yabuyama out of prudence, thinking it proper to inform his benefactor, but with Danjo in so serious a condtion, he was at a loss as to what to do next—and he was hungry.
While he was wondering where he would sleep from that night on, something so wrapped itself around his cold leg. He looked down to see a little kitten. Hiyoshi picked up and sat next to the kitchen door. The waning sun cast a cold light over them.
"Is your stomach empty too?" he asked. The cat shivered as he held it to his chest, Feeling the warmth of Hiyoshi's body, it began to lick his face.
"There, there," he said, turning his head away. He did not particularly like cats, but on that day the kitten was the only living creature to show him any affection.
Suddenly Hiyoshi pricked up his ears. The cat's eyes, too, widened with surprise. From a room next to the veranda had come the shrill cry of a man in pain. Presently, Oetsu came into the kitchen. Her eyes were swollen with tears, which she dried on her sleeve while stirring a medicinal concoction on the stove.
"Auntie," Hiyoshi began cautiously while petting the cat, "this kitten's stomach is empty and it's shivering. If you don't give it some food, it'll die." He avoided mentioning his own stomach. Oetsu ignored the remark.
"Are you still here?" she asked. "It'll soon be night, but I'm not letting you stay in this house."