Bunroku 4 (1595)
—Iyo Province, Nagahama — An Autumn Dusk
Inside the checkpoint, the guards huddled around the hearth. As evening brought a slight chill, they warmed their hands over the brazier, speaking in low voices.
"Still though... His Lordship gave an unusual order today — 'Let them through,' he said."
"Hijikawa-sama, inviting someone to the estate? That's a first."
"...It's about that, isn't it. The sulfur smell."
"If word reaches the Tokugawa, it's instant beheading. Our lord has no imagination."
"'Unification is unnecessary.'"
One of the checkpoint guards put on a deliberately dour face, speaking as if playing the fool.
A coal in the hearth cracked — pachi.
"'The world is best governed in halves.' ...Was that it?"
"'National unification is a burnt rice cake painted pretty' — something like that?"
"Admirably bold, I suppose, but hardly sane."
"What will you do? War is coming."
It was then.
A wooden board sounded — ko.
One of the guards widened his eyes and twisted both shoulders to turn around. By then, Kamado Nana had already set her cargo down at the far end of the checkpoint and seated herself quietly beside the hearth.
Whether she had overheard anything or not — her expression betrayed nothing.
She simply held up a wrapped baked sweet potato and stuffed it into her cheek.
"...Wait, you're heading there now?"
One of the guards asked, half in disbelief. Nana paused for a moment, then answered shortly.
"Mmn."
Her affirmation was pronounced through the sweet potato.
"Mrrorhi wa hrahrahi."
(I don't know when I'll be back.)
That steamed potato, incidentally, had been set aside as their midnight snack — a hidden reserve. It had not been left anywhere visible.
Kamado hoisted the boulder-like mass of deliveries onto her back without effort, and vanished into the forest without so much as a goodbye. Did she not need a map?
And compared to that —
The checkpoint guard felt a pang of disappointment toward his partner. I give up. My lord. This fool of yours seems to have imagination to spare.
She carries boulders without a flicker of expression. A woman, alone, living as a porter. Awe-inspiring. He wanted to speak with her, just once.
And yet, this hopeless checkpoint guard — what was to be done with him? When she stood before him, all he could see was her face.
But when seeing her off, from behind —
His gaze fell upon the generous shadows and contours of Nana's ample behind, his eyes drinking in the sight with the intensity of a man on his deathbed.
Soon, the sun would set.