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Naomasa
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I stand waiting with my sword sheathed and buckled at my side in the eastern courtyard of the grand shinden-zukuri that belongs to the family of Devikuro Shukong. It’s the middle of the day, and a cold wind blows through a square field of bright green grass mixed with verdant sprigs of blue and white flowerheads that are gathered in patches sprinkled around all four edges of the courtyard. Lining the yard are stone, tiled elevations that lead down into the central area from steps on the east and west side; those steps reach up into a series of rooms concealed by white shoji doors that are surrounded by walls of wooden-latticed washi paper. In the northeastern section of the field, a white-leaved willow tree hangs over a small pond and near a shoji partition decorated with
