In the quiet corridors of Osaka Castle, a young samurai faced more than just a battle for honor—he faced the sting of envy, the test of restraint, and the burden of reputation. This is the story of Shigenari Kimura, a warrior whose dignity shone brightest not on the battlefield, but in the moments he chose not to fight. Through a humble bow, a patient silence, and the strength to hold back, he showed the world that true power lies not in the sword, but in the soul behind it.
📝 【Introduction】Before the Sword, There Was the Soul
“The Fly Does Not Choose the Golden Crown.” This Japanese proverb teaches us that petty criticism often comes from those who lack the capacity to recognize true worth. In every era, those who stand out, lead, or act with integrity attract both admiration and unwarranted scorn. This is the story of a young samurai, Shigenari Kimura, who embodied dignity and wisdom far beyond his years. His quiet strength in the face of insult, and his resolve to choose honor over ego, left behind a legacy cherished even by the Emperor himself. Through his tale, we explore a timeless truth: that value is not diminished by the voices of those who cannot perceive it.
📝 【The Question】What Makes a True Warrior?
Why do those who act with virtue often become the target of ridicule?
Why do people lash out at those who simply do their best, live with sincerity, or shine in their own quiet way?
Sometimes, the louder the light, the more it draws the insects—those with envy, frustration, or misplaced pride.
In today’s world, this pattern hasn’t changed.
Criticism often falls not on the truly corrupt, but on those who try to live rightly.
Social media makes this even easier—people hide behind anonymity to mock and attack others, especially those who seem admired or successful.
But is all criticism valid?
And how should one respond when unfairly targeted by petty jealousy?
These questions lie at the heart of the story of Shigenari Kimura.
His life offers a powerful answer—not through retaliation, but through poise, humility, and a deep understanding of what truly matters.
🏯 【The Story】The Bathhouse Blow and a Misjudged Heart
- A Young Warrior in the Castle
Shigenari Kimura was a young samurai, just twenty-two years old when he died in the summer campaign of 1615, fighting for the Toyotomi clan.
At the time of his stationing in Osaka Castle, he had yet to experience real battle. Though he was respected for his character and admired for his handsome appearance, his lack of combat experience made him the object of envy among some in the castle.
- The Jealous Monk
Among the envious was a powerful tea-serving monk named Ryōkan Yamazoe.
Although a monk in name, Ryōkan was known for his brute strength—rumored to possess the power of five men—and a brash tongue.
He would often boast,
“That pretty-faced boy Shigenari has never even seen a battlefield.
If he ever crossed me, I’d put him down with a single blow!”
- A Deliberate Provocation
One day, Ryōkan encountered Shigenari in the corridor of Osaka Castle.
Carrying a cup of tea, Ryōkan intentionally spilled it onto Shigenari’s hakama (traditional trousers).
“Watch where you’re going!” he barked, glaring at Shigenari.Ryōkan hoped to provoke a fight. If he could draw out the popular young samurai and defeat him in public, it would elevate his own status.
Such ego-driven antics are sadly timeless.
- The Silent Response
But Shigenari did not react with anger.
Instead, he bowed and said softly:
“My deepest apologies.
I should have been more careful while you were carrying such a precious cup of tea.”
Ryōkan, emboldened by this humility, pressed further.
“That kind of apology won’t do. You’ll have to get on your knees!”
Had Shigenari raised a hand in response, it would have been seen as a serious offense.
In the strict codes of castle law, a brawl—even when provoked—could mean expulsion or forced seppuku (ritual suicide).
Ryōkan, as a monk, had no status to lose. But Shigenari, as a daimyo and retainer of Toyotomi Hideyori, had everything at stake.
Still, without hesitation, Shigenari knelt and bowed deeply on the floor.
“I am terribly sorry,” he said.
- Rumors and Ridicule
Ryōkan was thrilled. He began boasting loudly:
“That coward Shigenari bowed to me like a dog!
He’s no warrior—just a pampered fool!”
The rumor spread like wildfire through the castle.
Because Shigenari was widely admired—known for his swordsmanship, gentle manners, and gallant bearing—people were stunned by the story.
It contradicted everything they believed about him, creating what psychologists today call cognitive dissonance.
As the tale passed from mouth to mouth, it became a topic of ridicule.
The noble samurai was now the butt of jokes, mocked for kneeling to a monk.
- The Father-in-Law’s Fury
The rumor eventually reached the ears of Shigenari Kimura’s father-in-law, Sadanaga Ōno.
But Sadanaga was no ordinary father. He was a seasoned general who had earned distinction on many battlefields—and he adored his daughter Aoyagi, Shigenari’s wife, beyond measure.
To hear that her husband was being mocked as a coward was, for Sadanaga, an intolerable disgrace.
“Such dishonor cannot be ignored!
I shall go to Shigenari myself.
If he truly allowed himself to be shamed by some tea-serving monk,
I will strike him down on the spot.
Or else, I’ll have Aoyagi pack her belongings and bring her straight home!”
Burning with fury, Sadanaga stormed toward Shigenari’s residence.
Shigenari received him calmly, bowed deeply, and spoke with quiet composure:
“Father, I am truly sorry to have caused you concern.
However, if I may speak frankly—when it comes to swordsmanship,
I am not without confidence.
Yet had I drawn my blade in anger over the insolence of a mere tea monk within the walls of the castle,
I would have stained a sacred place with blood.
That would not have ended with mere reprimand.
I would surely have been ordered to commit seppuku.”
He continued:
“I am a commander entrusted with the lives of a thousand men.
If I must give my life, then let it be for Lord Hideyori,
on the battlefield—not in some petty quarrel.”
Then, after a brief pause, he added quietly
“Father, there is a saying: ‘A fly does not choose the golden crown.’
To a fly, there is no distinction between gold and dung.
It is best, I believe, not to waste one’s time on such creatures.”
- The True Value of the Golden Crown
Upon hearing Shigenari’s words, Sadanaga was struck speechless.
Then, as if a veil had lifted from his eyes, he suddenly widened them in realization.
Clapping his hands together, he exclaimed:
“Yes! That’s exactly right!
A fly could never understand the value of a golden crown.
To react would be to lower oneself to the fly’s level.”
Deeply impressed, Sadanaga was filled with pride for his son-in-law.
When he returned home, he began sharing the story with those around him
“My son-in-law is no ordinary man.
He said, ‘A fly does not choose the golden crown.’
A mere castle fly is not even worth acknowledging!”
The tale quickly spread throughout the castle, and soon the monk Ryōkan became widely known by a most dishonorable nickname: “The Fly Monk.”
The samurai and retainers began to mock him openly, laughing as they jeered:
“Hey, you there! Fly Monk! Yes, I mean you—with that bug-eyed face!”
“Buzz off, would ya? If you’re a fly, act like one and keep quiet!”
Ryōkan, who had little real talent but an outsized ego and a desperate need for recognition, could not stand being mocked as “The Fly Monk.”
He burned with humiliation and resentment.
“If that arrogant Shigenari thinks he can make a fool of me…
I’ll crush him with my own strength—in front of everyone!”
From that moment on, he began looking for the perfect opportunity to strike.
- The Bathhouse Incident
The opportunity came quickly.
One day, in the steamy haze of Osaka Castle’s grand bathhouse, Ryōkan spotted Shigenari washing his body.
Though the man was naked, bent forward scrubbing his back, he was still a warrior.
Ryōkan lacked the courage to challenge him head-on.
So he crept up quietly from behind and struck what he thought was Shigenari’s head with a sharp blow.
After all, he was said to possess the strength of five men.
The punch should have been powerful—should have been.
But…
“Oww! What the—?!”
The voice was different.
It wasn’t Shigenari.
The man holding the back of his head in pain was none other than the great warrior Gotō Matabei.
Shigenari had already finished washing and was soaking in the bath.
Having been struck from behind without warning, Gotō turned red with fury.
He stormed into the dressing area, drew his great sword in one swift motion, and roared
“Who just hit me!?
Show yourself! I’ll cut you down where you stand!”
The other bathers quickly climbed out of the tub, holding their breath and watching nervously.
The only one left in the washing area was Ryōkan, crouched in the corner and trembling.
Gotō glared and growled:
“So… Shigenari was beside me just before, wasn’t he?
Ryōkan, it was you who hit me by mistake, wasn’t it?
What, no reply?
Then so be it.
I, too, am a warrior—but I’ll spare you from being cut down.
I’m not as generous as Lord Shigenari, though.
A blow deserves a blow. Now stand and face me!”
He clenched his fist tightly.
Gotō Matabei, known for his might and valor, had arms like timber logs, and his fist resembled a heavy stone used to press pickled vegetables (tsukemono in Japanese tradition).
He raised that massive fist and delivered a single, solid strike to Ryōkan.
Even though Gotō had held back considerably, Ryōkan collapsed at once, unconscious from the blow.
Gotō left. The others left.
Shigenari, who had witnessed the entire scene from the bath, was now the only one remaining.
He stepped out calmly, walked over to the collapsed Ryōkan, and murmured:
“Pitiful man.
Your proud five-man strength must be weeping now.”
Then, placing his hand gently but firmly on Ryōkan’s chest, he gave a sharp shout:
“Ei!”
With that forceful cry—a traditional shout used in Zen and martial arts to jolt someone back to awareness—he revived the unconscious monk.
And without saying another word, Shigenari quietly walked away.
- Realization and Redemption
When Ryōkan regained consciousness, he held his aching cheek and groaned,
“Oww…
Facing Gotō Matabei was a mistake.
But next time—I’ll definitely take down Lord Shigenari!”
Just then, a fellow tea monk standing nearby said gently,
“Ryōkan-dono,
It was Lord Shigenari himself who gave you the katsu and brought you back.”
Ryōkan blinked in confusion.
Why would Shigenari help him?
He had thought the man was nothing more than a coward. And yet… he had helped?
Then, all at once, it struck him.
Shigenari had the skill and strength to defeat him at any moment.
And yet, he had shown restraint—not because he was weak, but because he was wise.
He had taken into account the place, the situation, and the consequences,
and had chosen to act with kindness—not just to protect Ryōkan,
but to protect himself, and everyone involved.
“I see now… I was wrong.
I never understood Lord Shigenari’s heart.
What a fool I’ve been…”
Sometime later, Ryōkan visited Shigenari and offered a deep and sincere apology for all his misconduct.
Then he pledged lifelong loyalty, declaring that he would serve at Shigenari’s side until the end.
That very same year, in 1615, during the Summer Campaign of Osaka,
Ryōkan fought alongside Lord Shigenari—who, despite it being his first true battle,
charged deep into enemy lines and fought valiantly.
Ryōkan gave everything he had in the battle… and fell with honor, dying at Shigenari’s side.
🇬🇧 【Conclusion】Self-Mastery and the True Strength of the Samurai
Shigenari Kimura lived and died as a warrior of extraordinary character.
He was not only skilled in arms but also refined in spirit—so much so that he perfumed his helmet before battle, wishing not to offend the enemy who might one day take his head.
Even Tokugawa Ieyasu, his enemy, is said to have shed tears upon learning of his death, saying,
“We have lost a true treasure of the nation.”
The story of Ryōkan and Shigenari is more than a tale of humiliation and redemption—it is a reflection of timeless truths:
That dignity is not something shouted.
That strength is not in the fist but in the will to refrain from using it.
That real honor lies in choosing the higher path, even when no one is watching.
Shigenari could have responded with pride and violence, but he chose patience and grace.
He understood that some insults are not worth dignifying with a reaction.
As he said himself:
“A fly does not choose the golden crown.”
To the petty and the bitter, gold and dung may seem the same.
But those with true discernment know the difference—and they act accordingly.
In our modern world, this lesson is more relevant than ever.
Public figures, creators, and even ordinary people face anonymous criticism and unfounded slander.
We live in a time when negativity spreads faster than truth, and dignity is tested not by sword, but by comment and rumor.
But let us remember:
The value of the crown is not diminished by the buzzing of flies.
And those who walk with sincerity, humility, and unwavering resolve will always shine—whether seen or unseen, praised or mocked.
True strength lies not in domination, but in composure.
Not in retaliation, but in restraint.
And even when misunderstood, choose to live with integrity.
Just as Shigenari did—with quiet courage, unwavering dignity, and the soul of a true warrior.
Because the self-restraint and compassion he showed were not mere passivity.
They became the very ground from which deep spiritual resonance—empathy and shared vibration—was born.
It was nothing less than the embodiment of Japan’s true virtue of the warrior.
