The Memory Painter

“The spies are gone!” Hara, his most trusted man, was running toward him, carrying a lantern.

Oishi stood up. When he spoke, his voice sounded gruffer than he intended. “You’re sure the surveillance has been lifted?”

“Shiota and Tomimori followed them all the way out of the city. They are returning to Edo.”

Oishi smiled. So they had taken the bait and no longer considered him a threat. “Now we are finally free to act. Order all the men to gather in Edo.”

Even though almost two years had passed since his lord, Asano, had been forced to commit seppuku, Oishi had been secretly plotting his revenge with a patience few men possessed. All odds stood against him and his men, for their clan’s castle, wealth, and lands had been given over to the Shogun after their lord’s death. The men had become rōnin—homeless and jobless—and their enemy, Lord Kira, was under the protection of the powerful Uesugi clan. He was now the most guarded man in the country. However, Oishi knew the Uesugis would retract their guards if they believed he no longer posed a threat. Now that they had, Lord Kira’s defenses would be penetrable.

Oishi and his small band of followers disguised themselves as silk traders and began the march to Edo. Although it was risky, Oishi needed to gather the rest of the men as a group at their safe house, if only to reaffirm their unity before the attack. But when Hara went to inform everyone of the upcoming meeting, he returned with devastating news.

“Oishi-sama, a third of our forces have deserted us. Now only forty-five others remain.”

Oishi nodded. Most leaders would have been disheartened by this latest setback, but Oishi was a master strategist and had planned for such contingencies. The House of Asano had once numbered over three hundred samurai. After the disbandment, the men who were still committed to serving the clan had shrunk to seventy. To hear that now they were even less … Oishi was not surprised. If he and his remaining men were caught, they would be executed. He would have continued on with even less.

He looked at Hara and gave him a grim smile. “Forty-seven will do.”

*

On the night before of the attack, Oishi ate a modest supper of onigiri rice balls with his son in their small room above the soba shop where they had been staying in secret. He swallowed bitter grief with every bite of rice—how he missed his wife and his other children. He had publicly divorced her so that his family would not be punished for the crime he was about to commit, but his eldest son, Chikara, had begged to accompany him. Oishi had agreed, knowing it was a death sentence for the boy. Only in moments such as these did he feel the depth of his men’s sacrifice.

They sat close to the fire to stay warm and waited while heavy snow fell outside. This winter had been Edo’s worst, and the capital had received record-breaking snow. The harsh elements would make their attack even more difficult.

All his life, Oishi had been taught that hardship either atoned for the misdeeds committed during a past life or was necessary to obtain enlightenment during the next. He did not know which would prove true in this case. He only knew that he could not bear to live under the same sky as Kira.

At midnight, a knock sounded quietly on the door. Two men escorted Oishi and Chikara to the safe house where the rest of the forty-seven ronin dressed in silence. They draped cloth capes and hoods over their armor, which they would later discard. But for the moment, their disguises made them look like a fire brigade on patrol, in case anyone stopped them on the way to Kira’s and questioned their actions.

It was almost 4 a.m. when they began to walk in formation down the deserted streets. Their lantern boxes cast shadows on the snow, reminding Oishi of a Bunraku puppet show—stories that most often ended in tragedy. He tried to brush off these thoughts but worried that they would not reach Kira in time before his men called for help. If they were forced to fight the Uesugi clan, there would be no chance of victory. As it was, the odds against them were mighty. Kira had forty master samurai and one hundred eighty mercenaries protecting his fortress.