Sengoku Youko – 29

「道介と雲蔵」 (Dousuke to Kumozou”)
“Dousuke to Kumozou””

While this was generally a(nother) superb episode of Sengoku Youko: Senma Konton-hen, I want to call special attention to the music. Evan Call, American though he is, is no stranger to anime. His soundtrack has been superb throughout Sengoku Youko’s run, but this was about as prominent a role as it’s played in an episode. That this ep was strong as it was overall from a production standpoint is a very positive indicator as we go into the home stretch. Every episode is kind of a blockbuster the rest of the way, either emotionally or visually (and sometimes both).

That’s the point, really. As I’ve said many times the magic of Mizukami Satoshi is his ability to deliver sweeping action stories that are intimate and personal. I’ll allow that his greatest masterpiece, his magnum opus Spirit Circle, is more straight up intimate and personal. But Sengoku Youko is more representative of his work as a whole. And to take a detour such as this in the middle of the climactic battle, to deal with the personal side of all this for two secondary characters, is a classic Mizukami move. And making it this memorable even more of one.

The title of this episode is “Kumozou and Dousuke”, and this is their elegy. Those are their real names of course – ones Douren never abandoned, even as Jinun did everything in his power to forget his own. There is still the matter of Banshuou and Mudou to consider, and the young dragon is certainly hyped for it (even for him). But one gets the sense that Banshuou never takes it remotely seriously. He is after all so powerful that Hanatora, a land God herself, says she’s no match for him. But all Banshuou seems to want is for Mudou to quieten down so he can watch the two old Dangaisyuu rivals settle things at last. He pulls up a seat and does everything but break out the popcorn.

Kumozou and Dousuke are from the same village, as we already knew. Dousuke never seems to quite surmount the obstacle that is Kumozou, no matter how obsessively he tries. Eventually Yazen gives him a tome about boxing, a western sport many in Japan would probably consider a martial art. Dousuke takes to it like a duck to water, and it soon becomes a part of his combat repertoire. He can’t wait to try it out on Kumozou, the one rival he lives to fight. But when Kumozou returns from his latest assignment – protecting a small village – he’s a changed man. Dousuke may be as naive as it gets as to the reasons why, but he can certainly see that something is fundamentally different.

This is where their shared story gets really tragic for me. Kumozou loses Chiyo, the village girl he fell in love with, when a katawara whose brother he killed forms an army and attacks it while he’s away. Kumozou blames himself for not being strong enough to intimidate any potential attacks. He shows up back at the Dangaisyuu temple and asks to be readmitting, citing his need to become more powerful. And he brings someone with him – the newborn Senya, who Chiyo saved by hiding him in a pot. And of course, Senya is his son.

Kumozou tries to leave that behind name, dead with the woman he loved, but Dousuke (now Douren) will have none of that. These man choosing to let Yazen do what he did to them is one thing. But for Jinun to allow it to be done to his son undercuts a lot of the sympathy I’d otherwise feel for him. But that decision set off the chain of events that is Sengoku Youko. And that chain leads us to this battle between the two of them, which in itself seems misguided to me. Jinun may not be truly dancing to the Tribe of the Void’s tune here, but if that’s, why are these two fighting so seriously now?