"That's right. But, Monkey…"
"Yes, my lord?"
"If you don't hide that intelligence of yours, you'll never succeed."
"I know."
"If you knew, why did you speak abusively like today, making everybody angry?"
"I'm inexperienced…I hit my head with my own fist after I said it."
"I'm not going to say any more. Because your intelligence is valuable, I'm going to help you. I can tell you now that those who resented you and were jealous of you accused you of theft on the slightest pretext. If a pin was lost, or a dirk or a pillbox was misplaced they'd point their fingers at you and say, 'It was Monkey.' There was no end to their spiteful talk. You easily provoke the resentment of others. You should understand that abou yourself."
"Yes, my lord."
"There was no reason for me to help you today. My retainers' point was well taken. As I was informed about this matter in private by Master Shohaku, it's as if I hadn't heard about it yet and were sending you off on a mission. Do you understand?"
"I understand very well. I have engraved it on my heart."
Hiyoshi's nose was stopped up. He bowed to Kahei again and again.
That night he left the Matsushita house.
Turning to look back, he vowed, I won't forget. I won't forget.
Wrapped up in this man's great kindness, Hiyoshi wondered how he could best repay him. Only one who was always surrounded by brutality and ridicule could feel another’s sympathy so intensely.
Someday… someday. Whenever impressed by something or overwhelmed by event he repeated this word like a pilgrim's prayer.
Once again he was wandering like a homeless dog, without aim and without work. The Tenryu was in flood, and when he was far away from human habitation, he felt like crying out at his loneliness, at the unknown fate that awaited him. Neither the universe nor the stars nor the waters could give him any kind of sign.
"Excuse me!" A voice called a second time.
Otowaka, off duty that day, was in his regiment's dormitory, taking a nap. He woke up, raised his head, and looked around.
"Who is it?"
"It's me," a voice said from beyond the hedge, where the tendrils of bindweed entwined themselves around the leaves and thorns of Chinese orange. From the balcony, Otowaka could see someone on the other side of the dust-covered hedge. He went out on the veranda.
"Who is it? If you have some business, come in by the front gate."
"It's locked."
Otowaka stretched to get a good look and exclaimed, "Why, it's Yaemon's son Monkey, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you say who you were, instead of groaning out there like a ghost?"
"Well, the front gate wasn't open, and when I peeped through the back, you were asleep," he said deferentially. "Then you got a little restless, and I thought I'd try calling you again."
"You needn't be so reserved. I guess my wife locked the gate when she went out shopping. I'll open it for you."
After Hiyoshi had washed his feet and come into the house, Otowaka stared at him for a long time before saying, "What have you been up to? It's been two years since we met on the road. There's been no news of whether you were alive or dead, and your mother's been terribly worried. Did you let her know you were all right?"
"Not yet."
"Aren't you going home?"
"I went home just for a bit before coming here."
"And you still didn't show your face to your mother?"
"Actually, I went secretly to the house last night, but after one look at my mother and sister, I turned around and came here."
"You're a strange one. It's the house where you were born, isn't it? Why didn't you let them know you were safe, and put them at ease?"
"Well, I wanted to see them very much, but when I left home, I swore I wouldn’t return until I'd made something of myself. The way I am now, I couldn't face stepfather."
Otowaka took a second look at him. Hiyoshi's white cotton smock had been turned gray by dust, rain, and dew. His greasy hair and his thin, sunburned cheeks somehow completed the picture of exhaustion. He was the image of a man who had failed to reach his goal.
"What do you do to eat?"
"I sell needles."
"You're not working for anyone?"
"I worked at two or three places, not very high-class samurai households, but—"
"As usual, you soon got tired of them, I suppose. How old are you now?"
"Seventeen."
"There's nothing a man can do if he's born stupid, but don't overdo it in acting the simpleton. There's a limit. Fools have the patience to be treated like fools, but that doesn’t hold for you and your mistakes. Look, it's natural that your mother is grieving and your stepfather's embarrassed. Monkey! What in the world are you going to do now?"
Although Otowaka scolded Hiyoshi for his lack of perseverance, he also felt sorry for him. He had been a close friend of Yaemon's, and he was well aware that Chikuami had treated his stepchildren harshly. He prayed that Hiyoshi might make something of himself for his dead father's sake.
Otowaka's wife came back just then, and she spoke up for Hiyoshi: "He's Onaka's son, not yours, isn't he? Who do you think you're scolding? You're just wasting your breath. I feel sorry for the boy." She fetched a watermelon that had been cooling in the well, cut it up, and served it to Hiyoshi.
"He's still just seventeen? Why, he doesn't know anything," she said. "Think back to when you were his age. Even though you're past forty, you're still a foot soldier. T makes you pretty ordinary, doesn't it?"
"Be quiet," Otowaka said, looking hurt. "Since I don't think young men should have to spend their lives like me, I have something to say to them. After the coming-of-age ceremony, they're considered adults, but when they're seventeen, they have to be men already. It's a bit irreverent, maybe, but look at our master, Lord Nobunaga. How old do you think he is?" He started to tell her but then quickly changed the subject, perhaps for fear of getting into an argument with his wife. "Oh, yes, we'll probably go hunting with His Lordship again tomorrow. Then, on the way back, we'll practice fording the Shonai River on horseback and by swimming. Have my things ready—a cord for my armor, and my straw sandals."
Hiyoshi, who had his head down, listening, raised it and said, "Excuse me, sir."
"Being formal again?"