March – Beneath the Cherry Blossoms
A hazy moonlit night, as the ropes are undone…
It was the third month of the first year of Kansei (寛政元年), and beneath the snow-dusted branches of the cherry trees, one could hear the mournful cries of wild geese.
In the grand residence of a wealthy merchant in Asakusa, there lived a master whose ancestors had once taken part in the Osaka Summer Campaign.
It is said that the household had long prospered through careful management and inherited fortune, and the master himself was known for his refined taste and appreciation of elegance.
Yet despite this, there lingered a certain sternness about him, and those in his service regarded him with a mixture of respect and unease.
One evening, as the moonlight filtered faintly through the garden trees, a young woman was summoned.
Her garments were modest, yet her bearing revealed both dignity and restraint.
She was known for her virtue, and had faithfully served the household for many years.
But on this night, something in the air felt unsettled—as though an unspoken tension had begun to take shape.
