Upon leaving Governor Nagai’s mansion, Hirata had begged Sano not to lead the search for the barbarian. “It’s my duty to tell you that you’re placing yourself in grave, unnecessary danger,” he’d whispered as they walked out the gate. “Nagai and his men let the barbarian escape; they’re the ones who should suffer if he’s not found.”

But Sano, waiting for the guards who would escort him to the harbor, had already withdrawn into his private world of inner compulsions and self-imposed challenges.

“At least let me help you,” Hirata had persisted. “Delegate the investigation to me, so that if it fails, I’ll die, not you.”

Sano had said gently but adamantly, “Hirata-san, I appreciate your loyalty. But I’ve made my decision.”

“Why must you always push me away and do things alone?” Confusion had made Hirata outspoken. “It’s the same with the detective corps. They’re supposed to serve you, yet you give them the safest, easiest tasks. It’s as if you don’t want them hurt, even though you’ve barely gotten to know them beyond their names and work records. What—”

The arrival of the guards had cut short their conversation. “You have your orders,” Sano had said. “I’ll see you later.”

Now resentment kindled beneath Hirata’s fear for his master. Sano was thwarting his fulfillment of Bushido and wasting his detective skills. Hirata couldn’t loaf while Sano faced danger; but neither could he violate Bushido’s most important tenet: unswerving obedience to his master. Yet Hirata was forced to acknowledge a more personal motive that exacerbated his dilemma. The present situation reminded him of a time when his character had been tried and found inadequate, an experience that had changed his life.

He’d been eighteen, a dōshin for three years, with a growing reputation for courage and skill. Craving official recognition, he’d gotten it when Senior Police Commander Terukuni had singled him out of the ranks to help break up a crime gang, and become his mentor. Hirata had been a self-centered young man who had valued the relationship mainly because of what it could do for him. Ambitious for wealth and power, he’d aspired to a position in the shōgun’s court. When the gangsters had ambushed him and Yoriki Terukuni in a teahouse, Hirata had chosen to escape with his own life, letting his master die. He’d repaid Terukuni’s kind generosity with betrayal, forsaken samurai loyalty for personal gain. After much soul-searching, he’d seen the error of his ways and vowed to embrace the Way of the Warrior. Hence he could not abandon Sano, his present master, to stand or fall alone, regardless of orders to the contrary.