634
State Letter
To the Sei-i Taishōgun,
Ashikaga Yoshimitsu,
This letter is respectfully submitted by Park Seong-jin,
Jungnangjang of Goryeo.
Though the sea lies between our lands, circumstances unforeseen have caused our names to be spoken together.
In observance of proper rites, I set forth the matter as it stands today.
First, it must be stated plainly that the outrages committed by the wakowere not the acts of a few lawless men.
For many decades, the wakocrossed the sea to burn the villages of our people, abduct the elderly and the young, and plunder grain and goods.
The Court of Goryeo could no longer endure such calamities in silence, and thus commanded this officer to undertake a campaign of suppression.
Pursuing the matter to its source, I reached Tsushimaand Iki.
What I discovered there was not the crime of scattered brigands.
Behind these acts stood lords and warriors of multiple domains.
Yet restraint and enforcement by the Bakufu were nowhere to be found.
How, then, could this be called the wickedness of one or two localities?
It was disorder carried across the sea over many years—
a violence that cannot be separated from the exercise of armed authority.
At present, Tsushimaand Ikiare under the military administration of Goryeo.
Tsushima has been pacified, and the fortresses of Iki have been seized.
In the course of these actions, some violence was unavoidable.
For this, I ask your understanding.
Those who rushed forth seeking death could not be turned aside by words alone.
They were stopped by the sword, and their heads have been sent to our homeland.
In addition, numerous storehouses, weapons, documents, and ledgers connected to the wakowere secured.
These two islands now form part of Goryeo's defensive line.
No power shall again use them as bases for plunder.
From this, I have reached one clear understanding.
To eradicate a problem, one must reach its root.
When only the surface is cut away, it returns again and again.
Therefore, should this disorder continue, I have already resolved to proceed with further measures—
to enforce order and, if necessary, to campaign sequentially against those regions from which the disorder flows.
Hirado.
Hakata.
Karatsu.
And, if required, even Kagawaand Chōshū.
The lord of Karatsuhas already submitted.
Under Goryeo's protection, his house is establishing a new order.
A daimyō lacking the capacity to govern was removed,
and his young and capable son was installed in his place.
A petition has also been submitted to His Majesty the King of Goryeo, requesting recognition of this appointment.
Here, I must speak without ambiguity.
If this turmoil arose solely from domains acting beyond control, that would be one matter.
But if the Bakufu has tolerated it—or quietly fostered it—
then Kyoto itself cannot be free of responsibility.
I do not issue threats in empty words.
I speak only of what I am resolved to carry through.
If the Bakufu truly intends to eradicate the wako,
there is no need for our two states to stand as enemies.
But if this disorder has been allowed to grow under unseen permission,
then the fault is grave,
and the responsibility heavy.
I do not speak falsely.
What has been accomplished with the hands that pacified Tsushima and Iki—
the Bakufu is well aware.
The choice before the Shogun is simple.
Even now, impose strict discipline upon the domains, prohibit the wako,
and present Goryeo with a proper apology and clear measures to prevent recurrence.
If this path is chosen,
I have no intention of advancing further.
Peace across the sea will benefit the people of both realms.
But if this is refused—
or if the matter is blurred with claims of ignorance or denial of intent—
then, as I have already taken the road of subjugation,
I will proceed in turn through Hirado, Hakata, and Kagawa.
And if at the end of that road stands Kyoto,
I will not turn aside.
I state this once more.
What I seek is only one thing—
that the cries of the common people vanish from this sea.
Nothing more.
I return Akaias my envoy.
May the Bakufu deliver a sincere reply.
If you are truly the head of this land,
do not dismiss this as mere banditry.
Govern it with the dignity befitting a state.
Send your reply through Akai.
Should Akai be killed for carrying words deemed improper,
the one who kills him shall also be killed.
Respectfully submitted,
Park Seong-jin,
Jungnangjang of Goryeo.
Following Scene
(Udon shop / behind the post station)
"Hm. Hm."
Park Seong-jin finished the final line and set the letter down.
The breath he had been holding escaped in one long release.
He stared at the text for a while,
then frowned slightly, as if something displeased him.
That single expression made Akai's heart drop.
He wanted to clasp his hands and beg,
Please—just let me go.
Whether he delivered the letter, discarded it on the road, or claimed it was lost—
anything would do.
If only he could leave this place.
As Akai calculated silently, Song Yijeong stepped closer.
"You said your hometown is Shiga, right?"
"…Yes."
"Where in Shiga?"
"Ōmihachiman."
Song Yijeong stroked his chin.
"Hm."
"And your shop?"
"Write down the name and the location."
"Why…?"
"If you don't deliver it—or if you disappear—
things happen afterward."
His tone was calm.
Which made it worse.
"How many say 'I understand' to your face,
then speak differently behind your back?"
Akai waved his hands in panic.
"My home—my family—aren't part of this!"
"Of course not."
"Do you think we can't find a way to deliver a single letter?"
Song Yijeong tilted his head.
"You said we could trust your word."
"Trust needs collateral."
"…Then what must I do…?"
"Write."
"I can't tell you about my home."
"Then should I come with you?"
The moment the words fell, Akai felt the blood drain from his body.
If this Jungnangjang followed him personally,
it wouldn't stop at his house—
Ōmihachiman itself could be overturned.
"N-no!"
"I'll write it!"
"I'll write everything!"
His hands trembled, but he wrote.
The house.
The shop.
The names of his family.
Song Yijeong sent someone to the merchants' guild to confirm it.
The verification returned with a red seal pressed clearly upon it.
Akai's face collapsed.
"Honestly… if this is shown, I die."
Park Seong-jin smiled lightly.
It was a strange smile—
one that drained a person's strength.
"It's fine."
Akai inhaled sharply.
Park added,
"The one who kills you,
the one who orders it,
and the one who looks away while a man dies—
I will find them all."
"I'll avenge you."
"What use is vengeance when I'm dead!"
"Still—wouldn't the road to the afterlife be a little easier?"
Once death was spoken aloud, Akai's tongue loosened.
When fear reaches its end,
what remains is resignation—and anger.
Park nodded calmly.
"And if you die doing something good,
perhaps the next life will be easier."
Akai thought—
These people… how can they speak of life and death so lightly?
There was no escape.
Writing everything down made it even clearer—
there was no path left to avoid this.
"…Then why go this far?"
With death close at hand,
the terrifying general began to look—slightly—human.
Park looked out the window.
"I've killed too many."
Akai froze.
"At this rate, I don't think I'll die a natural death."
"I don't want to continue killing here."
He looked as though he could pierce distant Kyoto with his gaze.
"I hope that Shogun of yours…
is a coward who busies himself with internal struggles and bullies the weak."
"That's not true."
"The Shogun… is a great man who stabilized the era."
"Then why can't such a great man stop a single pirate problem?"
Akai finally burst out.
"No matter what it takes—
I'll deliver this letter."
"So please… don't touch my family."
At the mention of family, his voice shook violently.
Yet there was strength in it.
Park watched that tremor for a moment.
Then spoke quietly.
"In front of family, people become brave."
A man isn't made by muscle.
Not by lack of fear.
Before the names of family,
being able to give up what is yours—
that is a person.
Park smiled, oddly gentle.
"Do you think people like us would do that?"
It sounded—strangely—reliable.
Akai felt it instinctively.
This man does not kill by mood.
Park added, without looking at him,
"I didn't bring an army."
"If I were alone—
I'd have no choice but to become a butcher."
After a breath, he continued more clearly.
"I don't wish to kill the Shogun and every daimyō under him."
Even a bad system must turn.
Only then can the powerless breathe.
With a sigh, he shook his head once.
"Go."
At that gentle word, something indescribable rose in Akai's chest.
A bad man—
can sometimes be the most trustworthy.
Outside, reins were placed in his hands.
"A horse too…?"
Song Yijeong smiled.
"We can't spare an escort."
"Go."
Escorted by two warriors, Akai left Karatsu.
Just in case, Park sent two elite men ahead to ensure he exited safely.
That day, Akai rode east,
breathing the most trembling breaths of his life.