“LORD Fox,” a familiar voice said. “Lord Fox.”
“Hm…?” mumbled Shino.
He woke from a light slumber inside his hokora, a miniature shrine. The estate’s samurai stood in front of it. Shino manifested himself outside the hokora, scowling at the interruption to his pleasant dream.
“You have a visitor,” the samurai said. “It’s a rather young woman claiming to be your older sister.”
“Yes, that’s her,” said Shino. “I’ll go now.” After adjusting his garments, he strode down a corridor open to the autumn wind. Before long, he reached the room where his sister waited.
At that time, Shino lived in a small shrine on the estate of a Kuroda retainer. The estate, in turn, sat beneath Fukuoka Castle.
Shino recalled the events of sixteen years before, in 1586, the fifteenth year of the Tenshō era. After Toyotomi Hideyoshi conquered Kyushu, a major reconstruction project was carried out in Hakata. The city had been reduced to ashes numerous times, and the merchants stubbornly rebuilt it over and over again, just as they would Hakata Gate from the rubble of Hideyoshi’s war.
As the merchants toiled to repair the city, the samurai houses responsible for protecting Hakata underwent multiple changes. After the Tachibana clan’s forcible relocation to Yanagawa Castle near Chikugo, their former stronghold Tachibanayama Castle was abandoned. Instead, the new feudal lords of Chikuzen, the Kobayakawa clan, erected Najima Castle as their base of power.
Following the Battle of Sekigahara, however, leadership switched once more. Kuroda, a powerful foreign clan, laid claim to Chikuzen, demolished Najima Castle, and established Fukuoka Castle on the western edge of Hakata. Eventually, the site would come to house Kego Shrine.
Two factions dominated the area: the samurai of Fukuoka and merchants of Hakata. In that divided realm, Shino was enshrined on the estate of a Kuroda retainer. After all, he’d served as a battlefield familiar for a samurai house. Likewise, he’d lived in Chikushino for six hundred years as a shapeshifting fox. So he looked after ayakashi without refuge and assisted the Kuroda warriors, who were unfamiliar with the region. Those two roles were sufficient to fill the void left in Sakura’s absence.
But—
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” he muttered as he crossed the vast estate.
During the Battle of Sekigahara, his former masters, the Tachibana, had sided with the Western Army. As a result, they’d been deprived of land and title, and Lady Ginchiyo sentenced to quiet exile in the village of Nagasu with her mother and several handmaidens.
Shino knew nothing more than that. Naturally, he felt concern for Sakura and Ginchiyo, yet he couldn’t return to them. Hideyoshi detested ayakashi. Furthermore, he detested feudal lords who made unnecessary use of ancient familiars in battle.
The kitsune that once served the Tachibana had become divine messengers of Inari Ōkami. They’d transformed into beings of a different order than Shino. If he, a mere shapeshifting fox, appeared before Ginchiyo, only more conflict could follow. In fact, of the peasants of Yanagawa, those who’d revered Ginchiyo enough to provide her monetary tribute, had been crucified in punishment.
A familiar woman stood in the drawing room. She wore an elegant, short-sleeved kimono over her narrow shoulders—she must have changed out of her traveling garb. His older sister had five tails, large velvety ears, and long hair the same golden brown as his.
“Tsukushi,” Shino said.
His sister, Tsukushi, smiled wanly. “You look well.”
“I am. And you?”
“Just as. Unlike humans, we foxes don’t change much. It’s barely been ten years since we last saw each other.” She sat, shrugging, then shook her head before meeting his gaze again. “Shino. Have you heard the news? Lord Muneshige has gone to the capital to petition for his reinstatement as a samurai.”
Shino nodded. “Such rumors reached my ears.” He’d heard that Ginchiyo’s husband, accompanied by his retainers, planned to ask the Tokugawa clan for a new position. “Wait… Has Lord Muneshige been reinstated?!”
“Hardly. It’s all but hopeless at this point. The Katō clan of Higo Province have seized most of his men.”
“I see… In that case, why did you come here?”
“I’m going to the capital to inform Lord Muneshige about Lady Ginchiyo,” Tsukushi said. “Which gave me the perfect opportunity to see you along the way.”
“Inform him…about Lady Ginchiyo?”
His sister looked directly into his eyes, her lips tight.
“Tsukushi?” he asked. “Don’t tell me…”
“Lady Ginchiyo has been laid to rest.”
Her words reverberated through his body like a gong. He’d known. A foreboding had haunted him since the moment Tsukushi arrived.
“She took ill last year,” his sister said, “but conceded the divine favor of Inari Ōkami to Lord Muneshige, to assist with his reinstatement. She endured her sickness alone the entire time. We called upon priests and healers, doing everything in our power to save her, but alas… A string of cold days worsened her condition yet further.”
“I see,” Shino murmured, his head spinning.
The smile of the strong lady castellan flitted through his mind. She’d been beautiful, dignified, and ever optimistic.
“If only I could’ve seen her one last time,” he said.
“She missed you as well,” replied Tsukushi. “She never stopped regretting her role in tearing you and Sakura apart.”
“There was no need for such regret.” Shino and Sakura’s decision had been theirs alone. Ginchiyo had no reason to bear any guilt.
“Wait,” Shino said, jerking his head up. “What happened to Sakura?”
Tsukushi bit her lip, her eyes widening. After a deep breath, she said, “Sakura passed away shortly before Lady Ginchiyo. She bore a curse directed at the lady, lost her sanity, and…and fell into a well.”