KATANAGATARI 1
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In Tango, beyond the sea extending from the Cliffs of Shinso, an island sits on the horizon. Tiny, only ten miles1 around. Few of the villagers of Shinso even knew that it was there─and those who did could care less. What was there to care about? It wasn’t on any of the maps, and it had no name. Nobody felt the need to name another empty island in a string of empty islands.
Empty…or was it?
It had been, until some twenty years ago.
Twenty years back, when a family crossed over from Shinso─they named this place Haphazard Island.2 They were the only three souls on earth with a reason to name it.
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“What a pain3…”
It was the crack of dawn.
Outside a ramshackle hut built near the center of the island, a man sat grumbling, dressed in rags, tousled hair tied at his neck. Still in the process of waking, he muttered over his handiwork.
A bucket.
Big and round.
Perhaps, more aptly, a barrel─and shaped with the same slapdash attitude as the hut. At first glance, you might mistake it for a roped-up bundle of sticks, but the seams lacked even the slimmest gap for water to intrude. He threw a ladle in the bucket and slung it on his back, using the ropes that bound it tight to strap it to his shoulders.
What a pain, he thought, not voicing the words this time.
He wasn’t mad─had nothing against the bucket or the ladle. To him, almost everything was, by default, a pain. Waking up? Absolutely. But even closing his eyes to go to sleep at night. A pain.
“Here we go.”
While not actually pausing, he seemed supremely bothered that he had to stand. Eyes bleary from sleeping, he turned and set off for the mountain─
Which is when the door to the hut creaked open.
“Shichika…”
Someone called him from inside.
Shichika Yasuri4…
His name.
“Where are you going, Shichika?”
“Uh…”
He turned, flustered and embarrassed, and tried but failed to look away. Eyes spinning in his head. The face of a kid caught red-handed in a prank. But Shichika was too old, though not by far, to be confused for a kid, and no kid had a build like his. Strictly speaking, he was doing nothing wrong, but when the voice from the hut─his older sister Nanami─reached his ears, he was as good as guilty.
Nanami Yasuri.5
Unlike her wild younger brother, Nanami was the picture of comely grace. Her face and bearing had the attraction of porcelain─but in her beauty and crafted smoothness, there was something fragile and breakable. Leaning in the doorway, wearing just a haori6 over her slip, she watched Shichika with a cold stare.
Voice drained of feeling.
“I asked where you were going.”
“It looked, uh, like we were low on water, so I figured I’d go fetch some. Go back to bed. You shouldn’t come out dressed like that. You’ll catch a cold.”
“Says the guy not wearing a shirt. I’m fine. It’s just enough to cool me down. The cold air feels nice against my skin. Besides, I was supposed to do the chores today.”
“Yeah, I know. I mean─” Shichika sputtered, “I didn’t know that.” He was shaking in his sandals. “Does it really matter? Consider it part of my training.”
“Shichika.”
Her voice was cold.
Ready to refute any excuse.
It shut him up real quick.
“How many times do I need to tell you? Stop treating me so preciously.”
“I didn’t─mean to.”
“I’m capable of fetching water. You were raised better than to be so pushy. And all this training?” Nanami sighed7 dismissively. “Pointless.”
“What makes it pointless─”