Sano walked down the promenade to the docks. Hirata and the crew were already on the ship with all the baggage and provisions for the journey. A ferryboat waited to convey Sano aboard; a crowd had gathered to watch the ship sail. From among the fishermen and samurai, an odd trio emerged and approached Sano: Junko, radiant in a red-and-white kimono, with her father and Kiyoshi.

The day after the raid, Sano had personally released the young samurai from Nagasaki Jail and taken him home. Kiyoshi had been unresponsive and incoherent then, but now Sano saw with relief that while he was still thin and pale, he seemed his normal self again.

“We want to pay our respects and wish you a good journey,” Kiyoshi said gravely. He and his companions bowed.

The polite greeting worsened Sano’s guilt. “Kiyoshi, about your father. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I offer my deepest apologies. If there’s anything I can do—”

The youth’s eyes darkened with pain, though not anger. “My father made his destiny before you even came to Nagasaki. What he did was wrong.” Kiyoshi swallowed hard, then recovered control. “He restored our family’s honor by taking his own life. His death wasn’t your fault.” Then Kiyoshi said in a happier tone, “We have good news: Junko and I are to be married. Our families have consented to the match.”

The girl beamed. Urabe shrugged and said grumpily, “Oh well, filial loyalty is more important in a son-in-law than business talent—I guess. And he has good connections.”

“Yes, he does.” With concealed aversion, Sano recalled the reason for this. “My congratulations.”

“A thousand thanks for making our marriage possible.” Kiyoshi bowed again.

In an effort to compensate the Ohira family for their loss, Sano had excused Kiyoshi for shooting him and had also settled a large sum of money on the boy. Now he was glad to see that some good had come out of tragedy. As he watched Kiyoshi, Junko, and Urabe walk back toward town, Sano felt oddly at peace. By bringing the young couple together, he’d somehow laid to rest his futile love for Aoi. He was free, and ready for his own long-postponed marriage.

However, when Sano continued down the dock toward the waiting ferryboat, he met an immediate challenge to his new equilibrium. Governor Nagai, flanked by troops and officials, smiled and said, “Ah, sōsakan-sama. What a pity you must leave so soon. I regret that your stay in Nagasaki was less than pleasant. Perhaps you can someday visit again, under more favorable circumstances.”

Anger heated Sano’s blood. Such hypocrisy from the man who had engineered his troubles! He bared his teeth in a smile just as false as the governor’s. “It pains me to leave,” he said, imitating Nagai’s bland tone. “The fact that the city remains in your capable hands is little consolation.”