"The Seppuku of Tomoe Gozen by Yoshimitsu Ono (????)"
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Created on: Thursday 4th of August 2016 10:16:44 PM CDT
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The Seppuku of Tomoe Gozen by Yoshimitsu Ono (????) translated by Hitomi (?)
« on: May 14, 2016, 06:42:10 am »
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The Seppuku of Tomoe Gozen by Yoshimitsu Ono (????) translated by Hitomi (?) 11 May 2016

 The twentieth day of the first month in the third year of Juei (AD 1184)
 Awazu, Kamogawa, Omi country
 The bitter cold of winter had not fully receded. There was still snow among the grass and a thin layer of ice still covered the surface of the distant marsh.

 The mid-day sun was like a circular stone pot hanging in a grey sky, emitting pale sad light.
 Kiso no Yoshinaka (????) reined in his horse, turned around to taka e look.
 Of the fifty thousand mounted warriors he started with when he departed from Shinano, only five, including himself, remained.
 The once much feared “General of the Rising Sun”was at the end of his rope. 

 “Donno,” one of the mounted riders drew near. After the battle with the men under the command of Ichijio Jiro (????)of Kai, the three hundred fresh troops brought by Imai Shiro(????) had been wiped out. On the far horizon, enemy mounted troops with their raised standards could be seen approaching. 
 The one who spoke was exactly Imai Shiro, one of the four “immortals” of the Kiso clan. Apart from the long dent made by enemy weapon on his helmet, there was no trace of any wound on him, testifying his great martial prowess. 

 “Donno,” Imai addressed his lord once again.
 “The enemy is numerous. Our army has been worsted. Let me take the rear-guard. Please ride at full speed back to Shinao.”
 Kiso no Yoshinaka was wearing a red velvet riding blouse with an armor of intricately woven iron chips padded with silk from the Middle Kingdom. On his head was a helmet with a scythe at the front as identification. His eyes were still sharp and steady.
 He was a born soldier, unused to the political battle in the imperial court. Only on the battlefield would he become his real self, full of fighting spirit no matter what kind of situation he found himself in.

 “I will not run!” He shouted.
 Kiso raised a hand, stopping Imai Shiro from continuing. Then, he said, “ From three years since I raised my banner, I had always been victorious. But Minomoto no Yoshitsune fight like he was in command of the gods and demons. He is surely a genius in warfare and I am not his match.”

 He paused, then spoke with a loud voice. “Even if I can reach Shinano and raise another army, he can still defeat me again. Instead of becoming the laugh-stock of the world then, it is far better for us to give all we have in this coming last battle.”

 The four behind him cheered at his brave words.


 Kiso ‘ s gaze fell on the female rider on his right who was riding a white mount with small red dots. She was wearing a blouse of decaying-green color and a light purple armor of a samurai and in her eyes, there was a sadness at the prospect of departing.

 When Kiso left Shinano, Kiso had brought among two beautiful maidens. One of them was called Yamabuki and the other was Tomoe.
 Tomoe was the daughter of Kiso’s adopted father, Nakahara no Kanedoo(????). She was graced with snow-white skin and long hair, and a stunningly-beautiful face. She was also good with her strong bow and no matter if she was on horseback or on foot, her missiles never missed. The enemies feared her and she was highly valued as a mighty warrior.

 She was also good in handling horses with temper.
 Even under most difficult situations, she could handle herself brilliantly. With a good-quality armor on her and with a halberd and strong bow, she often went straight at the commanders of the enemy camp. Although she was only nineteen, she had won so many victories that hardly any could be her match.

 Out of the five who remained riding, Tomoe was one of them.
 Kiso sighed and softened his tone.
 “Tomoe, leave us.” In his eyes, a tint of weary showed for the first time.

 Yumabuki was only one of his concubines. Tomoe, however, grew up with him since childhood who had become his lover. Kiso was more inclined to treat her as his young sister rather than just a bed-mate.

 Tomoe stubbornly turned her head sideways and said in a loud voice, “I am not leaving! Donno, I want to die with you.”

 Kiso shook his head. “You are a woman. No matter where you choose to go, go now! I am determined to fight to the death. If you fall into enemy hands, or even commit suicide , people will sneer that I, Kiso, would bring along a woman even if it is my last fight. This will bring damage to my name.”
 Tomoe knitted her brows. She loved deeply this man who had taken care of her like a brother. She wanted to die with him at the same spot but she also knew what he just uttered was true.

 No matter how she looked at things, it would be a blow to the name of Kiso if he was found to be in the company of a woman even when he was killed.
 Finally, she pursed her lips and said, “Very well then, I will leave. But although I am a woman, I do not want to be regarded as a coward who runs away from a battle. Let a mighty enemy come and let me show you how I can win my last fight!”
 Having decided on this, she reined in her horse and waited.
 At that moment, Onta no Hachiroumoroshike (??????), a warrior renowned for his strength rode from towards them from the right with thirty riders. Tomoe sent her mount into a gallop and the two clashed their weapons. In the blink of an eyelid, Tomoe extended her arm and had her foe pulled to her saddle, cut off his head and had it disposed in the wilderness. Then, she cut off the knot holding her armor in place, abandoned her armor and halberd and spurred her horse into flight.
 The enemies rushed in like a tide. Tomoe sent her horse flying and heard the thunderous roar of Kiso behind her. 

 “I am Kiso no Yoshinaka! Yoshitsune, come and fight me!”
 Nobody took notice of her. All attention was attracted by the Kiso who shone like a brilliant sun. Tomoe rode through enemy ranks and went into the depth of the woods.
 Two days later, Tomoe came to know the outcome of the battle. Of the four remaining, Tejika Tarou (????) was slain. No one knew the fate of Betto (????). Kiso fought valiantly but in the middle of the fight, his horse was trapped by mud and an arrow struck his face. He was killed. Imai Shiro killed himself.
 Tomoe dared not return to Kyoto to inform Yumabuki of this and later came upon the Kamogawa battlefield again.
 The first rain since early spring had fallen over the night and frost had formed on the damped grass.
 The battlefield had yet to be taken care of. It was so messy around.

 Tomoe rode without clearly thinking where she intended to go or do.
 She did not harbor the false hope to find the body of her lover. Kiso’s body must have been taken by the soldiers of Minomoto no Yoshitsune back to Kyoto. And those of Imai probably also met the same fate, their heads to be exhibited in Kyoto to celebrate a Minamoto victory.
 Dusk was approaching. Tomoe finally gathered her thoughts.
 Though she could not die with the one she loved, she could at least die for him.
 Once having decided this, she felt much calmer.
 When she fled the battlefield, her armor and halberd had been discarded. But she still had her tanto and she could use it to commit seppuku.

 The sky was darkening. It looked as if another downpour was coming. Tomoe rode into the pine woods where she had been hiding for the past two days and dismounted before an old pine tree the thickness of a man’s arms. She took the saddle off the back of the beast and gave the horse a pat on its backside.
 The tamed white horse with red spots lowered its head and brushed it against her face. Then, it walked away to seek some grass to fill its stomach.
 Tomoe sat under the tree, put the sheathed tanto before her knees and pulled open the front of her blouse.
 In the cold of spring, goose-flesh began to appear on her smooth skin.
 She took off her riding-blouse slowly and had it folded neatly beside her. Then, she unwound the wrapping cloth with patience and exposed her firm full breasts. Although no longer a virgin, her nipples and areolae were charmingly pinkish.

 She had not borne any child and hence her waist line was round and lithe, the belly part flat and smooth, the navel deep and round and the abdomen slightly curved upwards. The naked upper torso clearly showed that it belonged to a healthy and young woman. 
 It had become colder now. Tomoe knelt with her knees apart, her backside resting on the balls of her feet. It would give her more stability when sitting this way.
 The, she took up the tanto.
 The tanto was crafted by the famous swordsmith Okazaki Nyudo (????) from Omi. The grip part was wounded with horse-tail hair and the sheath was made of hardened dark wood studded with tortoise shells. The blade measured a foot and a half and it was extremely sharp.
 Tomoe pulled out the tanto. The thin blade sparkled with a cold glow of greenish-white.
 She held the grip with both hands and slowly aimed at the spot on the left side of her below, slightly on the lower side and then she spoke with a gentle voice: I am coming.

 With a quiet whisper, the sharp blade of the tanto was pushed into her belly.
 Tomoe had mastered martial arts and she did not show the slightest hesitation. The tanto was buried deep into her for nearly half a foot.
 She did not pause. Holding her breath, she twisted her upper torso to the right, the two hands pushing the blade towards the right side of her belly and twisting her waist to the left so that the belly part would work with the movement of the blade.

 The tender skin was cut open mercilessly by the blade. A long crimson line surfaced on the belly of Tomoe as the blade continued its journey.
 Along with the twisting of the waist, the wound became larger and the open up on the upper and lower sides, the layers of flesh cut open was so clearly visible and identifiable: the pale white of the skin, the light yellow of the fat and the purplish red of the muscle could be distinctively seen but then these were flooded over by the onrushing blood and dyed dark red.

 As she had done this so skillfully, Tomoe first felt a rush of cold air into the cavity before she felt the pain.
 The pain caused by the parting of the skin and flesh was nothing; the real pain came from the sliced diaphragm and the internal organs.

 As she had made up her mind to die, she had cut deeply and the intestines were severed by the sharp blade. It was fortunate that she had not eaten anything for two days and hence the smell was not obnoxious. 
 The tanto cut right to the right side of the belly, nearing t her intergluteal cleft, the wound over a foot long was tidy and straight across her belly just two inches below her navel. Tomoe did not pull the blade out but sat straight once more and used her hands to twist the grip around, letting the cold hard blade to break and stir her internal organs. The pain must be insufferable.
 Even with all that cold spring air, large droplets of sweat appeared on her forehead and her bosom.
 She clenched her teeth, suppressing her moan in her throat and rotated the blade so that it now faced the left side again. She began to retract the wound and pushed the blade in the opposite direction.

 As the resistance of the skin and muscle no longer existed, she could bury the blade deeper by another two to three inches than before and severed more intestines.

 The belly muscles had been cut completely and she could no longer use a twisting movement to work together with the cutting. So, the speed to accomplish the cut would now be slower than before. It was after taking five breaths that she managed to draw the blade just before her navel.
 Tomoe stopped the horizontal cut and again twisted the blade so that it now faced down. Then, she put her left hand on the top of the grip and then pushed it downwards.

 The wound parted under pressure and a considerable portion of the red hot intestines flowed out like red tides, the soft intestines looked like coiled ropes and was brightly red with an oily slime covering the surface which gave off white steam in the cold air. 

 Several bits of severed intestines stuck to the skin of her belly and from it flowed translucent yellowish fluid.
 The outflow of intestines did not affect Tomoe at all and fearlessly she continued to cut open her abdomen. The thick layer of fat and muscle gave way with a grudging sound as the blade made its progress. The new wound, along with that resulted from the horizontal cut, made a T on her body.

 The wound flipped open on both sides, revealing the inner wall of the abdomen.
 The reddish inner wall was covered with light yellow diaphragm and light blueish veins.


 More intestines flowed out. Those which had made their exits earlier had now gathered on the floor between her legs.
 The blade cut the cloth-belt into halaves, cut open the greyish-blue riding pants and the fundoshi. Tomoe continued her downward cut until the blade reached her mons pubis. Only then did Tomoe breathe out the swallow of air she had been holding all along.
 She felt a pang of dizziness. With difficulty, she took in a breath of cold air to clear her mind and then once again, she twisted the tanto.
 By this time the front part of the tanto had cut open her womb and twisting the blade was equivalent to stirring it inside her womanhood. The unspeakable agony came with an ecstasy suggesting shame and Tomoe finally could no longer suppress her moans.
 She rotated the tanto 180 degrees so that the blade now faced upwards.
 A lump of intestines was now hanging over her belly and this obstructed her next movement.

 So, she used her left hand to push the obstructing intestines to the right so that her belly part could again be exposed. Then, with both hands gripping, she made the reverse cut.

 The womb was completely cut open and more soft intestines were forced to come out by the blade.
 Tomoe’s face had become white as snow with her sweat being dried by the cold wind. But there was no pain registered on her face.
 It was not that she did not feel the pain but the severity of the pain she felt now could no longer be expressed by any expression.
 She had spent so much of her strength and hence the speed of the upward cut was so much slower. It was nearly a quarter of an hour before the blade finally reached the bottom of her navel.
 Tomoe paused and then pushed upward. The blade cut open her navel without any problem. When the tender flesh under the navel parted into two halves, a indescribable orgasm rushed to every cell of her body. Tomoe did not let this show on her face though but continued to tilt open her upper belly until the blade reached the lower end of her rib-cage. 

 The seppuku was done!
 Tomoe lowered her chin and saw her whole belly occupied by a huge wound in the shape of a cross. The whole torso beneath the breasts was soaked in blood and slimy oil.

 She pulled the tanto out from her under-chest and placed in on the right side.
 The intestines on the right side, due to its weight, had slid back to the bottom of the wound made by the vertical cut. Between her legs was a large heap of intestines, the upper ones already turning cold. 

 She caught hold of a part of these and with both hands pulled out the rest from the cavity.
 The process was not as painful as the seppuku itself but it was more troublesome.
 The intestines were slippery and they had been cut in many places. Finally, she gave up pulling but buried her two hands into the cavity, had the intestines wound round her wrists and shoveled the whole thing out.
 This was also not as painful as the cutting part but quite unbearable. She spent nearly a quarter of an hour to clear the inside of her stomach.
 The intense action exhausted her and she lay back slightly and rested on the trunk of the pine tree.
 The rough bark of the tree made her back ached with pain.
 At this time, the rain finally came.

 The cold rain filtered through the branches of the pine trees to fall on her body and this woke Tomoe a bit.
 She picked up the tanto again, found the part connecting the intestines with her body and had it cut. Once relieved the burden of the internal organs, she felt much easier and knew death would come soon.
 The rain had become a downpour, washing away the filthy blood stain and allowed the skin to show its true color.

 As she had lost so much blood, her skin had become almost white a sheet of paper. The lips were almost transparently white.
 Tomoe used the last bit of her strength to sit straight, her torso inclined forward slightly and placed her hands, now in the form of fists, to rest on her knees before bowing her head.
 She saw the intestines between her legs being washed to a greyish white by the rain.

 She no longer felt any pain. Most of the nerves in the body had died due to the loss of body temperature and blood.
 She found breathing increasingly difficult, each intake of air was felt like a carpenter’s file scarping the inside of her throat.
 She could feel the air echoing inside her chest cavity and could feel death rising bit by bit from the lower part of her torso.
 Gradually, her vision blurred, not as dark as she had thought it would be but a mild white glow which slowly took over her whole field of vision. At the end of the glow she seemed to see that man waving at her, smiling….