Bundori: A Novel Of Japan

appeared no older than he.

The spirit’s reproachful glance told Sano he’d missed the point, as he had so often during childhood lessons. “Better you should ask how a samurai makes himself follow the path of right rather than the one that leads to wrong.”

Sano waited, chastened but expectant.

“Although a samurai may at first be motivated to do right by the shame he feels when doing wrong, if he does that which is right often enough, then it will become a natural habit. In doing right, he will find the satisfaction of fulfilling his destiny, and of knowing he has mastered the most difficult part of Bushido.”

They’d reached the cemetery gate, and the spirit halted. “This is where we part, my son. But I am always with you.”

“Otosan!” Sano clutched his father’s arm. “Don’t go!”

His hand closed on empty space. The spirit had vanished.

“Sosakan-sama?”

Sano turned to see Hirata standing in the open gate. “Gomen nasai-I’m sorry to bother you,” Hirata said with a trace of his old hesitancy, “but you were gone so long, and I was worried… ”

“I’m fine.” Sano spoke the lie through the fresh grief at his father’s abrupt departure. The combination of liquor, exhaustion, and longing must have produced his waking dream, but now it was over, and he was more alone than ever. “Let’s go.”

Yet as they left the temple and mounted their horses, Sano felt more at peace than when he’d arrived. His father’s elusive spirit had finally appeared to him, when he needed it most. The encounter hadn’t removed his pain, but had given him insight that illuminated this troubled period of his life. He now saw the resemblance between his pledge to his father and lord and Chugo Gichin’s to General Fujiwara and Oda Nobunaga. Both represented attempts to do right, to embrace Bushido. Chugo had avenged the betrayal of a ruthless warlord by committing crimes that had led to his own death. And Sano, who had risked his life serving a weak, self-indulgent despot, must continue to do so, no matter what the cost to himself. His own bundori-the war trophy he’d earned during the investigation-was his better understanding of what it meant to be a samurai. He had struggled, and despite his anguish, could admit he’d found satisfaction in performing well, in doing right. He must continue to do right- because the habit was already an integral part of him-until the act of doing right brought him happiness.

Someday.

Hirata was waiting beside him. “Where are we going now, sosakan-sama?”

Sano sighed. “Back to the castle,” he said.

Though his spirit might ache forever for Aoi and his thoughts range across land and water in pursuit of her, he must seek happiness in his work, his marriage, and his continuing loyal service to his lord.

Because someday began now.

Acknowledgments

For their contributions to this book, I thank Pamela Gray Ahern, Marie Goodwin, John McGhee, Craig Nelson, and David Rosenthal.

About the Author

Laura Joh Rowland, the granddaughter of Chinese and Korean immigrants, was born in Michigan and is the author of Shinju. She lives with her husband and two cats in New Orleans. Bundori is her second novel.