The fifth year of Emperor Bidatsu's reign, New Year's Day. Asuka, Tachibana Palace.
The morning chill had frozen the corridor boards white. Deep within the palace, the scent of charcoal filled Prince Tachibana no Toyohi's chambers.
Prince Umayado—Toyomimi—who had just turned five, sat formally before his father. The white New Year's robes hung loosely from his small body.
"Toyomimi. This is a celebration of your fifth year."
Prince Tachibana no Toyohi placed a wooden box before his son. He opened the lid. Inside, a blue glass magatama from Baekje gleamed atop a sheet of silk.
"Name whatever you wish. I, your father, will make it come true."
Toyomimi gazed at the magatama, then looked up at his father's face.
His eyes were calm. Far too calm for a five-year-old child.
"Father. I wish to see this country."
Prince Tachibana no Toyohi's hand stopped.
"This country?"
"Yes. I wish to see this country's land and its people with my own eyes."
Toyohi laughed. He took it for a child's innocent boast.
"Ha-ha. Shall we go see Mount Miwa? Or perhaps the sea at Naniwa?"
"No. To the very ends of Yamato. The unsubjugated lands, people, and gods—I want to see them with these eyes."
The laughter vanished.
Toyohi straightened and looked at his son. For an instant, a sharp light seemed to flash deep within the eyes of that five-year-old child.
"Toyomimi. You are a prince. To leave the palace—"
"Father."
Toyomimi cut him off. His voice was quiet, but clear.
"You worry that this country cannot be united."
Toyohi's brow twitched.
"You rage at the Mononobe's arrogance, yet cannot bring yourself to trust Soga's schemes. You keep testing every bridge before you cross it, and end up breaking them."
"Wh-why, you—"
"But Father, if a stone bridge breaks when struck, perhaps the bridge is not at fault. The fault lies in not knowing how to strike it."
Toyohi opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. A five-year-old child had hit the mark dead-on.
"To know how to strike, you must know the stone. To know the stone, you must see the mountain. To see the mountain, you must walk."
Toyomimi clenched his small fists atop his knees.
"I still know nothing. I know only what lies within this palace. In this island crowded with more than a hundred small states, what kinds of people live here? What words do they speak? What gods do they worship, and how do they live? Without knowing that, how could I ever understand this country?"
Toyohi fell silent.
The charcoal crackled. A tiny spark danced red through the dark room.
"...You are five years old."
"Precisely because I am five."
"What?"
"When I grow older, I will see through a prince's eyes. A prince's eyes do not reflect the people's true appearance. For now, I am only a child. A child's eyes have not yet grown clouded."
Toyohi let out a long breath.
He was being defeated in argument. Completely defeated by his five-year-old son. And the boy's reasoning was flawless. There was not a single gap in it.
Unable to decide whether he was frustrated or pleased, Toyohi gazed up at the ceiling.
"...What am I to tell Anahobe no Hashihito?"
His mother's name had come up. Toyomimi's eyes wavered ever so slightly.
"Please... tell Mother for me, Father."
"You tell her."
"You will have an easier time with Mother than I would."
"Don't be ridiculous. As if I have any sway over your mother."
Father and son looked at each other. The corners of Toyohi's mouth lifted, and Toyomimi's eyes narrowed.
It was a brief laugh shared between father and son.
That very day, Toyohi summoned Lord Imibe.
"Toyomimi says he wants to see the country."
The Imibe elder's eyes widened for an instant. He immediately lowered them, but Toyohi did not miss the flash that had crossed them.
"Imibe. You are plotting something, aren't you?"
"Perish the thought."
"Don't lie to me. Just now, your eyes looked like a fish's when it spots bait."
Imibe cleared his throat.
"...Actually, there are six tribes with deep ties to Izumo. Their people have put down roots in this land since ancient times, each passing down exceptional skills and knowledge."
"Six tribes."
"Yes. Why not summon their princesses to Asuka and have them serve as the prince's guides and guards?"
Toyohi folded his arms.
"Princesses? Can girls truly protect a prince?"
"They can. No, no one else could. If soldiers from Yamato entered the unsubjugated lands, arrows would fly. But these women have longstanding ties with even the unsubjugated people."
Toyohi stared intently at Imibe's face.
"I don't know what you have in mind. But your reasoning is sound."
Imibe bowed deeply.
"Then I shall send messengers at once."
"Imibe."
"Yes?"
"Take care of Toyomimi. He is my—"
The words broke off. Toyohi rolled the glass magatama in his hand and looked out the window.
The New Year's sky was impossibly high and blue.
That night. Toyomimi lay alone in his room, staring at the ceiling.
He had defeated his father in argument. His journey was about to begin.
He should have been happy. Yet a small shadow lingered deep in his chest.
His mother's face rose in his mind. Princess Anahobe no Hashihito. His mother, who always smiled so quietly.
He would leave her behind and set out on a journey.
Toyomimi turned over. The chill of the wooden floor touched his cheek.
—What will I see?
More than a hundred small states. People who spoke different languages. This island, which was being brought under the rule of the Heavenly Descendants.
It was a question far too large for a five-year-old child. But within Toyomimi's heart, that question had already taken root.
People would gather of their own will and devote themselves to the whole. The whole would devote itself to the people. That was the country I wish to create.
He could not yet put it into words. Only its vague outline had begun to emerge.
A dog barked in the distance. The New Year's night was quiet, and starlight cast thin shadows from the lattice of the shoji.
Toyomimi closed his eyes.
Tomorrow, the world would change. So that his five-year-old eyes could reflect all of this country.