Nobunaga Oda had departed Kyoto to strike Murashige Araki at Arioka Castle, taking up position at Yamazaki. This was no mere siege; it was a manifestation of Nobunaga’s iron will to bring the conflict to a swift and brutal end.

  As a result, all external supply routes were severed. The terror of seeing provisions dwindle—a psychological pressure more agonizing than physical blades—began to slowly crush the spirits of those within the walls.

  Through Fuji’s devoted care and the salvation found in the teachings of Deus, Kanbe’e somehow managed to survive on the edge of the abyss. For Murashige, as long as there remained a hope of turning Kanbe’e to his side, the man’s life held value.

  Thus, Fuji’s visits were "silently condoned," provided they did not exceed certain bounds.

  Kanbe'e's daily life became a cycle of whispered conversations with Fuji and immersing himself in the transcriptions of the Passion of Christ and the Psalms that she smuggled in.

  It was a ritual to pray for the soul of the late Shojumaru, and the only intellectual stimulation in a dungeon where light never reached.

  Suddenly, the words of his revered friend, Hanbe’e Takenaka, flickered through his mind.

  (If the time comes to change the world... you are the only one who can do it, Kanbe'e. I am counting on you...)

  That voice pierced his chest as if rebuking his current, wretched state.

  (Hanbe’e... You, of all people, must remain well. I wish to see you again, as soon as possible...)

  Kanbe’e’s physical body had reached its limit. His joints, soaked for months in unsanitary mud, had swollen hideously. The slightest movement sent a jolt of agony through him, as if red-hot iron pokers were being driven into his flesh.

  "Ugh... gah..."

  When his consciousness grew hazy from the pain, he thought he saw Hanbe’e’s pale, slender fingers in the darkness. Those fingers touched his forehead, gently anchoring his soul to the world of the living just as it threatened to drift into the depths of death. Such hallucinations were Kanbe'e's only crutch.

  Furthermore, he never for a moment forgot his beloved wife, Teru, whom he had left in Himeji.

  (Teru. Have the news of Shojumaru's end reached your ears as well? You may already believe that Kanbe'e is dead... Please, stay strong... Stay alive and wait for me... I beg of you...)

  It was a long, excessively harsh winter. The bone-chilling cold froze Kanbe’e to the marrow, threatening to blow out the flickering flame of his life countless times. But as the piercing frost of morning and evening softened slightly, Kanbe’e realized he had somehow triumphed over the winter named "Death."

  In the darkness, where his five senses were numbed and the passage of seasons was uncertain, he saw wisteria buds swelling beyond the tiny window.

  Before he knew it, Kanbe'e began to wait for Fuji’s arrival with a trembling soul.

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  He did not know if it was love, or a form of reverence akin to faith.

  He was simply, helplessly drawn to this girl—the one who cleansed his filthy body and waste without a hint of revulsion, and who preached the teachings of Deus with a tender smile.

  On days when Fuji could not come, her younger brother Tamamatsu would carry the heavy bowl of porridge with his small frame.

  "This... is from my sister, for Lord Kanbe'e... Please eat it and get well... definitely..."

  Looking into the boy's honest, innocent eyes, Kanbe’e overlapped them with the memory of his lost son, Shojumaru, and was gripped by a heart-wrenching ache. The "warmth of family" brought by these siblings was the only salvation in a dungeon reeking of death.

  Fuji, too, had given her heart to Kanbe'e. To a pure fourteen-year-old girl in this ravaged world, Kanbe'e—who listened to her every word and accepted them with a serious gaze—was unmistakably the "understander of her soul."

  Though she cautioned herself after hearing of his legal wife, Teru, the feelings that had sprouted within her were as powerful as the spring buds and could not be stopped.

  (Ah... has spring... finally arrived?)

  Outside the window, Kanbe’e saw the wisteria buds, seemingly ready to burst, and overlapped them with the image of Fuji. Seeing the vitality of the flowers striving to bloom after a severe winter, Kanbe’e felt his own obsession with life reignite.

  (Deus has not abandoned me. Just as those wisteria vines stretch their branches, I too shall one day leave this cell and look upon the sunlight again.)

  One day, looking up, he saw the wisteria in full bloom, hanging like a pale purple curtain.

  "The wisteria... has bloomed..."

  Fuji’s hand, which had been sweeping the floor, stopped.

  "When I cannot come, these flowers shall comfort you in my stead(Her name 'Fuji' means 'wisteria' inJapanese)... Lord Kanbe'e, do wisteria bloom in Himeji as well?"

  "Yes... Teru loves them. Every year, they bloom magnificently in the castle garden... I wish I could show them to you."

  "I would like to see them... someday. Together with you, my lord..."

  Fuji glanced for a moment at her father, Matazemon, who was glaring from a distance. Then, as if bracing herself, her voice trembled.

  "Lord Kanbe'e... the truth is, for some time now, I have adored you. In this fleeting world, you alone have accepted my heart...

  If you are ever able to leave this place... I do not care if I am but a shadow, a concubine. Please take me to Himeji! I simply... wish to be by your side."

  Kanbe'e was speechless. The innocent courage of a girl professing her adoration to a man who had lost his human dignity and was merely waiting for death—the weight of her feelings struck him like a blow to the head.

  "I... I cannot... I have Teru. I have sworn never to take a concubine..."

  It was his pride as a samurai, but also a "defensive wall" to protect himself from the girl’s dazzling affection. His emaciated fingers touched Fuji’s warm hand. Kanbe’e desperately restrained himself from drowning in that soft warmth.

  However, if he left her in this castle, her fate upon Arioka's fall would be either violation by the Oda army or death as the kin of a rebel.

  "Fuji. I cannot make you a concubine, but I owe you a debt I can never repay. I shall take you to Himeji.

  There, I will find you a worthy husband from among my retainers. I will see to it that you are happy. That... is the only sincerity I can offer you."

  Fuji’s eyes welled with joy. The mere fact that she could remain by his side was enough...

  "Such gracious words! If it is your command, I shall do anything. I will even practice with the spear to protect you!"

  Kanbe’e was struck by her devotion. He wanted to cast everything aside and pull her into his arms. But, choosing to endure as "Kanbe'e Kodera," he forced his lips into a smile.

  "Haha... Then I promise you, I will show you the wisteria of Himeji. I give you my word."

  Fuji clung to Kanbe'e's thin, frail body, holding him as if he were a fragile treasure, yet with deep affection. For a brief moment, the time flowing between them made them forget they were at the bottom of hell.

  But... there was a shadow watching this scene, holding its breath. It was Murashige Araki.

  Produced and written by a Japanese author, rooted in authentic Japanese history. Translated with the assistance of Gemini (AI).