The ninth month of the lunar calendar corresponds to November in the solar calendar. The days were short, and the evening air was cold. Before darkness could fully set in, bonfires were hurriedly lit, casting flickering shadows.
“His Imperial Majesty is graciously bestowing saké,” Tesshu announced to Hishijima Yoshiteru, the Captain of the Imperial Guards. “Move the men into the garden and have them prepare for a feast.”
Yoshiteru replied with clear dissatisfaction.
“You expect me to let my soldiers drink? If so, who will protect His Majesty? I understand my sole responsibility to His Majesty is the execution of my duty. The Imperial Guards were not assembled to become His Majesty’s drinking companions. If you wish to hold a banquet, very well. Conduct your poetry reading with the chamberlains and court ladies. We cannot participate. We shall remain by His Majesty’s side to guard him until the festivities end.”
“Now, now, calm yourself,” Yoshiteru’s colleagues interjected simultaneously, clapping him on the shoulder.
“Yoshiteru, I understand very well what you wish to say,” Tesshu said. “But for this once, do me the favor of complying.”
As Tesshu spoke, Yoshiteru began to talk, his thumb rhythmically caressing the kojiri (the end cap) of his officer’s sword, which was engraved with a cherry blossom crest.
“I was twenty-one, full of youthful vigor, when I saw my first battle at Toba-Fushimi. From there, I plunged straight into the Boshin War. I fought across Koshu, Edo, and Utsunomiya, before taking an enemy bullet at Shirakawa Barrier. I was treated by a hired foreign doctor at the Yokohama Grand Hospital. My wounds healed quickly, and I rejoined the Imperial Army to march on Aizu-Wakamatsu. Four years ago, I deployed to suppress the uprising of the Echigo gentry. Since the political crisis three years ago, disgruntled samurai have become increasingly rampant throughout Japan, culminating in the Saga Rebellion in February of the year before last. I made an opposed landing at Hakata Bay and fought my way through various territories. Two hundred of my comrades died in Saga.”
“In May of that same year, I deployed to Taiwan, where endemic malaria was raging—the so-called Taiwan Expedition. Though we landed at Liang-kiao Bay at the southern tip of the island, five hundred men caught malaria and died within six months. They are all sleeping now at the Shokonsha shrine in Kudan. I, too, ran a high fever and came within an inch of death, but I was saved by a local British doctor who prescribed a miracle drug called quinine. It was thanks to this drug, native to South America, that Westerners were able to conquer Africa and Asia.”
“Twice, my life has been saved by Western medicine—once in Yokohama, and once in Taiwan. Until now, I have rushed without rest through battlefields both at home and abroad as the spearhead of the nation’s defense.”
“Yet, the task of guarding the Imperial Palace, assigned to me upon my return from Taiwan, has been too uneventful, too peaceful. associating with the lazy court nobles who flutter about the Emperor, the utterly decadent daily routine of the court—every bit of it is unbearable to me.”
“The more I strive to fulfill my duties, the more I become estranged from those around me. If I am not careful, before I know it, I will be made to act like an attendant or a sycophant. Even before I could order my subordinates to prepare the feast, they were already fidgeting, eager to partake in the sake and fine food. I cannot face the spirits of my fallen comrades. I am only thirty-one. I can still fight. If I smolder in a place like this, my very spirit will rot away. I want to return to the battlefield right now.”
Tesshu firmly gripped Yoshiteru’s arm as it trembled, his hand resting on the hilt of his military sword. Though he now served as a chamberlain, Tesshu, too, was originally a warrior. Having mastered both the Jikishinkage and Hokushin Itto schools of swordsmanship, he had been a renowned swordsman in Edo. He understood Yoshiteru’s feelings painfully well. The Tokugawa, too, had grown accustomed to peace, forgotten the martial arts, and forgotten the soul of the warrior—and thus they had perished.