Why not speak to Hayoue?
The idea was like the recollection of a happy dream, and indeed he had harboured it before.

It roused him to such a degree that he tore himself away from the wall against which he had leaned as on a last staff, and straightening himself he walked deliberately toward the upper end of the Rito, where the cave-dwellings of the Water clan were situated.
Hayoue might be at home, still it was more than likely that the Don Juan of the Rito had been spending the last night elsewhere.

If at home, so much the better; if not, there was nothing left but to wait until he came.

The prospect of waiting and resting was not an unpleasant one for Okoya, who felt exhausted after the shock of disappointment and disgust he had just experienced.

As he slowly approached the recess wherein the grottoes of the Water clan lay, he halted for a moment to catch breath, and just then descried Shotaye, who was coming down toward him.