Winter, the second year of Keichō (1597 CE)

After a hard day in the fields, Rikichi was all too relieved to return to the cluttered comfort of his home. He trudged along the narrow path leading back to the village with his hoe in hand whilst considering his troubles. Planting and growing sweet potatoes in the cold of winter was tiring, but the penalty for failing to pay taxes was severe. Rumor had it that one could be thrown into prison and beaten until they bled all over.

The chalky taste of dirt arose in his mouth, and he spat at the icy ground in contempt. This country approached ruin faster with each coming year, and just when one thought fighting between warlords was disastrous enough, such powerful men had to try conquering a land they had no business interfering with.

But then again, those who waged war were the same who profited from it the most. The lives of lowly peasants such as himself did not matter to the aristocracy, who lived in their magnificent castles and enjoyed victory without ever putting themselves in danger.

He exhaled at the sad lot that life had given him before continuing on and thinking of the only thing that kept him going when times were rough.

His wife Matsu had borne three children in five years, and he could not wait to sit and warm his feet whilst delighting them with another story. Although they enjoyed hearing of the adventures of Momotaro, he hoped to tell the tale of the two frogs tonight.

As long as he did his best to imitate the croaks of a frog, they would not give much regard to what he said. They were still full of innocence and easy to please, unlike Matsu, who always had a way of finding fault in him.

Yet, it oft seemed like anything with a breath or pulse was a mark for her cruel tongue. She was almost unrivaled when it came to prattling, and there was not a single day that she would not share bawdy news with some other woman in their village. Just this morning, she had told a friend of the coupling between Sadaharu's pigs, and afterward, she had burst into wild laughter.

He shook his head in dismay, knowing that Matsu would be his ruin one day. If she did not wear him out with her demands, then she would surely put him in danger with her careless words.

Such was his misfortune, and upon taking a few more steps, it became apparent that his end would arrive sooner than he expected.

He was at the village gate when a robed man with wild eyes and unkempt hair charged out of the shadows, screaming with a sword in hand. The suddenness gave Rikichi little time to react, and as his assailant drew near, he could only shut his eyes and pray that it would be over quickly.