Hyakkimaru's Birth
Book 1 of the Dororo Novel Series
Toriumi Jinzō
Part 5 - The Ōnin War Begins
After several small and indecisive skirmishes, Hosokawa Katsumoto mobilized troops from nine provinces and occupied several strategic points in Kyōto. Samurai supporting Hosokawa burned a number of bridges and solidified the defense of the four key gates into the city.
Hosokawa Katsumoto called on his allies nationwide, including Hatakeyama Masanaga. He took the shōgun into custody on the pretext of protecting him from warfare, and invited the incumbent and retired Emperors to his residences. In June, Ashikaga Yoshimasa conferred him with a flag that had an ivory ornament at the top, which symbolized the Emperor or the shōgun. This gave Hosokawa Katsumoto’s troops the appearance of a regular government army. All told, he had almost a hundred and sixty thousand troops at his disposal. Because of its placement in and around the capital, this army was colloquially known as the Eastern Army.
Yamana Sōzen held a strategic meeting and started gathering his own allies. Over a hundred and ten thousand men flocked to his banner. Sōzen's forces were commonly known as the Western Army.
Hosokawa's Eastern Army had a geographical advantage. Most of his allies had armies in and around the capital and knew the surrounding terrain well.
Yamana Sōzen’s Western Army was increasingly alarmed by the growing strength of the Hosokawa Clan and its allies. Worse, not all of Yamana Sōzen's allies were trustworthy. Many of his associates, including Isshiki Yoshinao, had supported the shōgun and the Hosokawa Clan in the past.
Things in the capital were at a standstill in early May, but in some of the surrounding regions, including Kanto and Kyūshū, large-scale conflicts began. Many of these areas were already in a state of war due to the previous assassination of Uesugi Noritada by the shōgun's deputy in the Kantō region, Ashikaga Shigeuji, in 1454. The Ashikaga, Uesugi, and other clans had already been at war for many years before this new conflict gave them another reason to fight.
Commoners and the poor fled the capital in droves with their meager belongings strapped to their backs. Soldiers set fire to temples and estates in the city. Some chased the poor commoners to rob them and line their own pockets. Previous occupations and social designations had little meaning. The rich had their lives spared in exchange for their wealth and belongings, but were killed like the rest of the poor commoners when their money ran out.
On May 27, several prominent temples in Kyōto were looted, then put to the torch. Soldiers loyal to the Yamana Clan attacked the Hosokawa army, despite earlier attempts at arbitration by the shōgun. Bodies were so thick on the ground that it was impossible to walk without tripping over them. Many civilians were among the casualties, sacrifices in this petty war between samurai clans.
That night, as Jukai looked down at the capital from Mount Kurama, he saw it glowing red like hot coals in the far distance. Mutō Yashuchika's final message reached the mountain estate later that night. He set down everything he knew about the current state of the war and placement of the armies. The Eastern Army was converging on his own estate even as he wrote the message. He wasn't sure if he would make it through the night alive. He guessed, based on what he'd seen, that this war would be worse and longer than all the others the capital had suffered through recently.
Mutō was around thirty years old. He should have received some protection from the magistrate who served the shōgun, but the fighting was so chaotic that few people stopped to verify who belonged to each side. Aside from Jukai's, all of the mountain estates surrounding the capital were empty; the samurai who lived there had either marched their armies into the capital or fled to the countryside. They were forced to join up with Hosokawa's Eastern Army or Yamana's Western Army: neutrality was not permitted and disloyalty was swiftly punished by execution.
Some lords who had once held a high place sought to regain their previous positions by joining the war. One of these was Taga Takatada,1 a former leader of the Samurai Dokoro, the Board of Retainers in the capital. The role of the Board of Retainers was to guard the shogunate and give judgment on criminals in peacetime, and to take leadership in wartime. Taga Takatada led ten thousand soldiers to join the Eastern Army, overpowering the Western Army and building a temporary fortress to fortify his army's position.
Taga Takatada wasn't the only lord seeking to reclaim his former glory. His cousin Kyōgoku Mochikyo2 joined him at the head of his army. When the war looked to be going Hosokawa's way, many other lords flocked to his banner.
Hyakkimaru decided to go to the capital in August. He drank and had a parting feast with Jukai and Sakuzō the night before he left. Sakuzō made enough to feed them all three times over. He put on a brave and cheerful front, but it was obviously an act. He had raised Hyakkimaru from infancy; watching him go now was the same as watching one of his own children march off to battle.
Hyakkimaru understood how he felt, at least a little. He would always be grateful to Sakuzō and Jukai for raising him, and he knew that he was headed into danger.
After the feast, Hyakkimaru took a bath and cut his hair short in preparation for his departure. He tied his remaining hair behind his head, letting it hang loose in its tie. Sakuzō gave him an undershirt that he'd made using fabric from the tiny kimono that he'd been found in.
"Please keep this with you," Sakuzō said. "If your mother sees it, I'm sure she'll recognize it."
Hyakkimaru accepted the undershirt gratefully. "I'll wear it," he said. He had mixed feelings about his birth parents. Part of him hated them, but another part of him was genuinely curious about his birth mother.
Hyakkimaru wore the undershirt as his first layer, then put on a kosode3 over it. He hated hakama, so he didn't put any on. The collar of his undershirt peeked out from the edges of the kosode. The undershirt was mostly silk, but the kosode was made of woven linen. He put on long leggings instead of straw sandals to protect his feet. The Muramasa sword hung from his hip; he carried provisions and supplies in a small pouch tied to his back.
"You look good," Sakuzō said after he was dressed. "The ladies will be all over you."
"Don't tease me, uncle Sakuzō."
Sakuzō smiled. "I'll be going back to Kaede soon. You're free to visit anytime."
"I hope to see you there." Hyakkimaru smiled.
Jukai came into the room with a satchel slung over his shoulder. "Here's medicine and money that I packed for you," he said. "Sakuzō made mochi, too."
"How can I ever thank you?" Hyakkimaru asked as he accepted the satchel.
"Come back alive," Jukai said. "This isn't the last time we'll see each other." His expression softened. "Be well. Travel safely."
"I will."
Jukai didn't cry, but it was a close thing.
Hyakkimaru bowed deeply to Jukai and Sakuzō, then left the mountain estate. He didn't look back. He didn't want them to see him crying.
***
There were six provinces near Kyōto that had easy access to the Takano River. These provinces were Ise, Owari, Musashi, Wakasa, Kaga, and Iyo. According to Namitarō's information network, these provinces had been controlled by the Chiba, Akamatsu, Hosokawa, Uchiyama, Uesugi, Takeda, and Togashi Clans for most of the past twenty years.
One of these provinces was certainly Hyakkimaru's birthplace. It was possible that his birth family was one of the ruling clans of the region. Armed with this information, Hyakkimaru decided to go to the capital to gain any knowledge he could from Mutō Yasuchika, then visit each of the six provinces to begin his search for his birth parents.
There was a hill near the foot of Mount Kurama that was high enough to provide a clear view of the capital. Hyakkimaru climbed it to take a look and was shocked at how much the view had changed. He'd tricked Sakuzō and stolen a horse only three years before. He still remembered riding toward Kyōto with the magnificent temples in the distance, their curved and swooping roofs gleaming in the sunshine.
Hyakkimaru still saw temples from his vantage point on the hill, but most of them were on fire. He gasped and choked when he breathed in smoke. The wind blowing from the city stank of rot and death.
Hyakkimaru had dreamed of visiting the capital since he was a small child. Sakuzō had always seemed so excited whenever he'd visited Kyōto or passed it by on the way to Kaede. Hyakkimaru frowned and returned to the road.
He passed near a forest clearing and discovered a pile of fresh corpses: ashigaru mostly, but also samurai and some common people from villages. Severed arms and legs were scattered among the dead bodies. They'd been pecked at by crows and gnawed on by wild dogs and other animals.
Hyakkimaru was picking his way through the corpses when several men emerged from the trees surrounding the clearing.
Hyakkimaru's eyes widened. Some of the men wore armor and helmets; some of their heads and chests were bare. All were armed and stared at him with murder in their eyes.
A bare-chested man in short leggings approached Hyakkimaru. His only armor was the leggings and some simple leather shin guards. He might as well have been walking around in his underwear. Hyakkimaru counted a total of eight other men in the clearing with him. If he had to guess, he would say that they'd stolen weapons, food and money from the dead. The men had the hunted and hungry look of deserters.
One of the men snorted. "Whatcha doin' out here, kid? You Eastern Army or Western Army?"
"Northern Army," Hyakkimaru said.
"Huh?" The Northern Army didn't exist. "Well, never mind that. Where are you going?"
"I'm going where I want to go."
"This isn't a place that's easy to pass through," the half-naked man said.
"Birds and wild dogs seem to pass through it easily enough," Hyakkimaru said.
"Don't make this difficult, brat. Sell us your sword, and we'll let you through."
"No."
The eight men raised their weapons. Hyakkimaru drew his Muramasa sword with his left hand and planted his feet. "If you insist on having my sword, you'll have to take it."
The men formed a loose ring and came closer. Hyakkimaru's right arm fell completely off. He held the Muramasa sword aloft in his left hand.
The men took a step back in surprise. In place of the arm that had fallen off, there was another sword. Seeing an arm fall off would have been shocking enough even without the sword. None of the men had ever seen anything like this.
Hyakkimaru lifted his Muramasa sword and cut off the head of the nearest helmeted man. It was the first time he'd ever killed anyone.
Are people really this easy to kill when they're surprised? he thought.
Hyakkimaru had fought against Jukai and sliced through logs during his sword training, but this was the first time he'd ever faced down human opponents with an intent to kill. He was aware of his own strengths and weaknesses; his years honing his control over his hands had made them uncommonly flexible and strong. Most men wouldn't be able to behead someone with a single blow.
The other would-be attackers shrank back and fled in terror.
Hyakkimaru placed his prosthetic arm over the other sword, then sheathed his Muramasa sword. He had killed someone. He was a criminal. He'd committed a crime against his soul. He got to his knees and prayed. "Rest in peace, and may your soul reach paradise."
A crow cawed in the trees above him. It was past sunset. A half-moon rose high in the sky. He planned to enter the capital at night to avoid being seen by soldiers. Hyakkimaru removed his map of the capital from his pack and looked it over. Jukai had drawn it for him. It showed all the ways in and out of Kyōto as well as major roads and landmarks. To reach the capital coming from the north, Hyakkimaru would have to pass by Mount Funaoka, then take the Suzuku Road straight. The Rashōmon Gate was at the southern edge of the city. Tobanotsukuri Bridge was directly in front of it. The Suzuku Road was a wide thoroughfare that connected the eastern and western parts of the city. Estates, temples and palaces were all marked on the map, including the shōgun's. Most merchants did business in the southern part of the city. There were so many temples that Jukai hadn't bothered to draw and label them all.
Hyakkimaru verified that he was headed in the right direction in the failing light of the sun, then put away his map and continued his journey. A contingent of the Eastern Army was camped on the main road that led from Kyōto to Mount Kurama. Hyakkimaru hugged the line of the Kamano River, then scaled the cliffs to the east of the riverbank to avoid being observed. He didn't want to get involved in any more pointless fighting. To Hyakkimaru, there was no difference between the Eastern Army and the Western Army. There were no differences to see with the naked eye, after all.
Hyakkimaru crossed a stream and took the road to the east. Thin moonlight illuminated the Kamigoryō Shrine nestled in the trees near the road. Signs of war became more prevalent as Hyakkimaru advanced. Noble estates and palaces were still burning. Famous theaters and places to gather and play were either deserted or crumbling into ruin. Robbing the dead was illegal and taboo, but there was a robust black market here for anyone wanting to acquire weapons, armor, or provisions. Many precious items had been stolen from temples and palaces were now up for sale.
Hyakkimaru saw injured men crawling in the road. He hid himself in the shadow of the trees and kept walking. He was trying to follow a safe route that Jukai had marked for him, but he lost his way and wound up further east than he wanted to be. He was caught between the two armies, directly on their front lines.
Hyakkimaru gasped. He kept out of sight as best he could and walked fast. He tripped over something in the road and nearly fell. In the dim light of the moon, he saw the face of a dead soldier. Many other armored men lay dead in the road, or alongside it. Their eyes were still open in death. Hyakkimaru was disturbed by their stares. The air stank of death and rot, so he covered his nose and picked up the pace, careful not to fall over the scattered bodies, armor and weapons in his path.
A little further down the road, all of the corpses Hyakkimaru saw were headless. The victors of the battle had taken the heads of the losers as trophies.
How horrible, Hyakkimaru thought. He wondered if his birth father had participated in this cruel battle. He knew that his parents had thrown him away the day he was born; that kind of cruelty reminded him of what he was seeing now. He knew, though, that it was the world that was cruel and unfair, more than any one person. He'd killed the soldiers who had attacked him. He was alone in a world at war, and if he didn't defend himself, no one would.
Right when loneliness was starting to eat at him, Hyakkimaru heard footsteps rushing up to him from behind.
"Stop!" a man called out from behind him.
Hyakkimaru tore down the path at top speed, avoiding corpses and small fires that had broken out during the battle. He didn't see too many pursuers, but there could easily be more enemies ahead...and even if there weren't, he didn't want to kill them. He was running along the side of a smoldering house when a shadow crossed the road in front of him.
"Don't go that way," a small boy hissed at him. "It's not safe. Follow me." His voice was unusually high-pitched.
Hyakkimaru had no time to hesitate. He followed after the boy without saying a word, still running. He heard more footsteps behind him, louder as his pursuers closed the distance.
"Run faster," the boy gasped. "If they catch you, they'll cut your head off."
Hyakkimaru guessed that the boy was about ten, judging by his height, but he ran as if his heels were on fire. Hyakkimaru kept following him, running as fast as he could. Moving this fast for so long made it hard to control his psychokinesis, but stopping for rest wasn't an option. He and the boy escaped from the battle before the victor was clear, entering a clear, dark space far from any large fires. They were on the outskirts of the city now; the streets were narrow and winding. The boy darted between two buildings, jumping over debris as he ran toward the ruins of a temple fire. Hyakkimaru saw a large, broken bell covered in soot and ash.
The boy sped to a gap in one of the crumbled walls that led to the temple's basement. The gap was large enough for only one person to pass at a time. Hyakkimaru found it an extremely tight fit. As soon as they reached the dark, deserted basement, the boy stopped and turned around. "We're fine now," the boy said. "They can't get in here." He chuckled.
Hyakkimaru sat down. He considered the boy very strange for running to a temple ruin instead of his own home. It was possible that he'd lost his home in a battle long since. It was colder underground, but Hyakkimaru could still smell smoke. He looked around and saw a small fire lit in the room's low hearth, and another lit in a polished metal brazier. The boy must have lit the fires before leaving.
Both the brazier and the hearth were large and looked like precious items. The brazier in particular could have been taken from a noble estate. Food and buckets for carrying water and other goods dotted the room. Two carpets covered the floor, both thick and finely made. They were definitely not what Hyakkimaru expected to find in a temple. If all of this did belong to the temple, then this room must be some kind of secret stash of treasures and supplies. That wasn't surprising, in itself; the soldiers had likely stolen all the religious icons and imagery from the burned husk of the temple above and melted them down for gold. It made sense that the temple would want to preserve some of its holy things in a less accessible location.
It seemed to Hyakkimaru that the boy was using this place like a nest. The ceiling was too low for Hyakkimaru to stand comfortably, but this room was just the right size for the boy to stretch to the ceiling, or stay hidden while eating and sleeping. The stone walls were polished to a mirror shine, casting dim reflections of the boy and Hyakkimaru back at themselves.
"This place is safe," the boy said. He sat and scooted close to the fire in the brazier. The light of the fire revealed his face clearly. Hyakkimaru thought he looked as strange as he acted. His black hair hung into his face, with only half of it tied behind his head in a topknot. The kimono he wore was far too small and reached only his knees. His sleeves weren't even long enough to reach his elbows. His belt, by contrast, was much too big for him; it wrapped twice around him with room to spare.
"You should probably thank me," the boy said casually. "You could have gotten killed back there." His attitude was strangely friendly, for all that they'd only just met.
"Thank you," Hyakkimaru said. "You saved me some trouble."
"Who are you, anyway?"
"Hyakkimaru."
"Hyakkimaru?" The boy tilted his head.
"You write it with the kanji for 'hundred' and the kanji for 'demon.'"
"Hmph." The boy snorted. "So ashigaru aren't even afraid of demons, huh?" He had a fast way of talking that was bewildering to Hyakkimaru.
"What's your name?" Hyakkimaru asked.
"Lord Dororo," the boy said without a scrap of hesitation.
"Lord Dororo?" Hyakkimaru's forehead creased in confusion.
"That's what I'd like you to call me. I did just save your life, after all. Speaking of which, I don't save people for free. Pay up."
Dororo extended both hands to Hyakkimaru. His expression was expectant and utterly shameless.
"I don't have any money or anything," Hyakkimaru said.
"I don't believe you," Dororo said rudely. He must have guessed that Hyakkimaru had money based on how he was dressed and equipped. He was a very sharp-eyed boy.
Hyakkimaru glared at him. "What if I fed you?" he asked.
"I wouldn't say 'no' to that," Dororo said. "I'm famished. I was out stealing food from the Western Army when I ran into you. So really, you owe me food."
The Eastern and Western armies were both firmly entrenched in Kyōto with only about nine hundred meters separating their lines. It was suicide for a child to go out onto that battlefield alone.
Hyakkimaru sat down next to the brazier and removed his pack. "I'm hungry, too," he said. "Let's eat." He pulled out the mochi that Sakuzō had made him and handed two to Dororo.
"They're cold!" Dororo said with a frown. "They would taste better roasted over a fire." He spitted his two mochi on a stick and cooked them through. They smelled sweet and a little like flowers. Hyakkimaru's mouth watered.
"You're going to the Eastern Army, aren't you?" Dororo asked.
"I don't belong to either army," Hyakkimaru said. "They have nothing to do with me."
"Why are you in the capital, then?"
There were many men, like Taga Takatada and his cousin Kyōgoku Mochikyo, who sought to make their name and fortune through distinguishing themselves in war. The ones without clan lords to follow traveled alone, boasting of their exploits and living on pride and the indulgence of others. Most of these were young men without prospects. Dororo must have mistaken Hyakkimaru for one of them.
"I'm looking for someone," Hyakkimaru said.
Dororo gave him a cat-like smile. "Is it a lady?"
"No, a samurai."
"Who?" Dororo asked.
"I'm not sure, but he's probably with the Eastern Army."
"The Eastern Army is huge. Which clan are you looking for? Hosokawa? Kyōgoku? Akamatsu? Takeda?" Dororo lived right on the battlefield and was familiar with all the participants in the war, as well as their vague location.
"I don't know the clan. An official at the office of the shōgun's magistrate should know more. That's where I'm headed."
"What? The shōgun's magistrate? Do you really think he'll talk to you?"
"I'm not looking for him, but for someone who works for him."
Dororo looked stunned. "You're from out in the sticks, aren't you?"
"I'm from Mount Kurama."
He grinned. "Welcome to Kyōto," he said. "Isn't it a splendid city? Yoshitsune himself came down from the mountains to defend it. You're in the heart of the city now. Isn't it grand?"
Hyakkimaru hadn't known just how far he'd come until Dororo said this. He was no longer on the outskirts and hidden paths through Kyōto that Jukai had marked for him. He also didn't know what Dororo meant by "the sticks," but he assumed that this meant where he'd come from, and Dororo didn't ask for further clarification.
"I know where the magistrate's office is," Dororo said.
"Really?" Hyakkimaru leaned forward reflexively.
"Yeah. But it's a dangerous place, and heavily guarded. There's a ton of food and supplies in there. You'd need to be a member of the Imperial Court, like one of the Emperor's family, to be let in without a fuss."
"I don't care about that," Hyakkimaru said. "The official I'm looking for knows me. Can you lead me there tomorrow?"
Dororo considered. "Hm. I wonder if the guy you're looking for will even be there. If you're a friend of the shōgun's side, it might turn out all right, but they're very twitchy about security."
"Just get me close," Hyakkimaru said. "I can handle getting in by myself."
Dororo eyed him uncertainly. "Uh... I honestly don't know if that's overconfidence or stupidity, right there. You haven't even told me the name of the person you're looking for."
"It'll be fine," Hyakkimaru said. "I've seen how fast you can run. If things go badly, that's what we'll do." He bit into his own mochi.
"The local governors are there. I don't wanna risk running into them."
"Why not?"
"Even if you attacked the building with a hundred demons behind you, they wouldn't back down or give up."
"Do you really think that getting in will be that tough?" Hyakkimaru finished his first mochi, then started eating another.
"Of course. The entire place is crawling with samurai. It's best for me not to draw attention to myself."
The common people of Kyōto feared two things above all: bandits and samurai. There really wasn't too much difference between them. The man or woman who stole rice to feed their starving child would be fined and imprisoned, but bandits and samurai were never punished for their crimes. The officials and overseers charged with keeping peace in the city were a laughingstock.
"Think about it. The Eastern Army is running around itching for a fight. The Ōuchi Clan is coming with their own army to back up the Western Army, so there will be even more soldiers out there soon. The magistrate and all the other officials are really busy. They won't have time to talk to you." Dororo had learned great deal about the war situation while stealing from armies and the government.
Yamana Sōzen had started the war by taking up arms against the current shōgun and opposing his plans for the shogunate's succession. Ōuchi Masahiro4 was bringing in his armies from the west to support the Yamana Clan's forces. The Ōuchi Clan lands were far to the south in Suō, Nagado, Buzen, and Chizuken Provinces, so his forces had traveled by boat to reach the city. Over five hundred ships had landed in Kobe in July. The Ōuchi Clan's forces were finally arriving in Kyōto now.
"I hope it all burns to the ground, and good riddance," Dororo said vehemently. "They should all die." Dororo sounded angry, but there was an undercurrent of sadness in his tone.
Hyakkimaru frowned. "Where are your parents?"
"Dead," Dororo said flatly. "Killed by samurai bastards." His eyes were bright with hatred.
Hyakkimaru understood immediately that the subject of Dororo's parents was a sore spot. He wasn't about to poke it again.
Dororo placed an iron pot of water over the fire. The pot was as finely made as everything else in the room, but it showed clear signs of use. After the water boiled, he poured out two cups of it for himself and Hyakkimaru. Hyakkimaru drank it, feeling the heat soak into his bones.
"Thank you," Hyakkimaru said. "This is wonderful."
"Huh? It's not sake or anything, y'know. Just hot water that was blessed by the monks." He chuckled darkly. "They used it to seal pacts between holy brothers."
Hyakkimaru blinked. Was Dororo equating him with a sworn brother? Maybe his choice of words was just a coincidence. Dororo was an orphan, and he did seem lonely. Maybe that's why he's talking to me like this. I can probably convince him to guide me to the magistrate's office.
"Something's been bothering me since I saw you," Dororo said. "I thought you were rich when I saw your undershirt. It looks expensive. Did someone important give it to you?"
Dororo asked this question politely, but the history of his undershirt was too complicated to explain to a child and a stranger. "I just wear it because I like it," he said.
"Oh." Dororo looked disappointed. He yawned hugely. "Sorry for being rude, but I'm going to bed. Lots of Imperial Court estates to rob tomorrow, you understand." He covered himself with a straw mat and closed his eyes.
Dororo survived by stealing food and goods and selling them on the black market. He didn't care if bandits or samurai bought what he was selling, as long as their money was good, but he also didn't want to be too conspicuous; that much was obvious.
Hyakkimaru set his Muramasa sword at his side, then stretched out next to Dororo to sleep.
Dororo sat up sharply. "You can't sleep next to me." He was blushing.
"Huh? Why?" Hyakkimaru didn't understand Dororo's reaction. He'd been perfectly friendly so far, and had even drawn a comparison to them as sworn brothers after sharing the consecrated water.
Dororo stood up, looking angry. "I can't sleep with people near me." He picked up his straw mat and crossed the room, then lay down again.
Hyakkimaru saw no reason to revise his initial impression of Dororo: he was a strange boy. He lay down on the floor again and watched the firelight flicker on the ceiling. This was a temple, so there should have been a statue or icon to pray in front of, but the room was bare of any religious iconography. It must have all burned in the fire or been stolen. The religious symbols and statues were gone, just like the demon statues in the Hall of Hell.
I should go to Fushimi, while I'm this close to it. Hyakkimaru had never seen the Hall of Hell in person. He wanted to see the place that had so profoundly affected his life with his own eyes.
Translator's Notes:
1 Taga Takatada (1425–September 23, 1486) was a military commander during the Muromachi Period. He was a senior vassal of the Kyōgoku Clan. Takatada twice served as a member of Samurai Dokoro (the Board of Retainers in Kyōto). He had an active career as the right-hand man of his lord and biological cousin, Kyōgoku Mochikiyo. ↩
2 Kyōgoku Mochikyo (dates unknown, c. 1400s) was a warlord in the Muromachi Period of Japan. He was the cousin of Taga Takatada and helped lead his army to support Hosokawa Katsumoto at the start of the Ōnin War.↩
3 A kosode was a type of short-sleeved Japanese garment and the direct predecessor of the kimono. Though its component parts directly parallel those of the kimono, its proportions differed, typically having a wider body, a longer collar and narrower sleeves. The sleeves of the kosode were typically sewn to the body entirely, and often featured heavily rounded outer edges. The kosode was worn in Japan as common, everyday dress by both men and women.↩
4 Ōuchi Masahiro (September 18, 1446 – October 6, 1495) was a member of the Ōuchi Clan and general in the Ōnin War, serving Yamana Sōzen. He battled numerous times with Yamana's rival, Hosokawa Katsumoto, at one point commanding twenty thousand men and two thousand boats, moving his troops by land as well as by sea.↩
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