The Memory Painter

When they arrived at Kira’s estate, they split into two groups to attack the front and back gates. Oishi led one group and had his son lead the other.

They took out the outer guards without raising the alarm. But they gave themselves away in the courtyard when they broke down the inner door. The house erupted into screaming chaos as guests and servants attempted to escape. The forty-seven pushed past them and battled Kira’s guards, fanning out through the dark maze of rooms to find their man. Kira’s house had been renovated due to his paranoia, and it now had countless hidden doors and secret rooms—he could be anywhere.

As desperation set in, Oishi saw his son facing off against one of Kira’s master samurais; he left the boy to fend for himself. It defied every fatherly instinct he had, but he needed to find Kira before he escaped. Spurred on by the thought, Oishi overcame every samurai and mercenary in his way. Of his men, so far only Hara had sustained any injuries. He had taken an arrow in the chest but broke it off himself, determined to fight on.

After they had searched the entire house, Oishi and his band reconvened in the main hall. It was a miracle they were all still alive. Eighty-nine men lay dead around them, and the rest of the mercenaries had abandoned the fight.

Oishi ignored the moans of the wounded enemy on the ground. It was dawn now, and Kira had not yet been found. The Uesagi clan most likely had heard of the attack and was en route.

For the first time in his life, Oishi felt the weight of his armor. “We stand so close only to fail?”

Then a lone whistle sounded in the distance: Kira had been found.

The men rushed to the back courtyard. There was Kira, kneeling in the snow with his captor beside him.