Discover Japan's stories—across time, across language.

| Original Title | 母 |
|---|---|
| Author | 芥川 竜之介 |
| Genre | Modern Short Fiction |
| Author Type | Male Author |
| Summary | In a Shanghai inn where East meets West, a tense silence lingers between a husband and wife. Toshiko, her face shadowed by unspoken grief, pleads to change rooms again, her voice trembling with urgency. Rain drums relentlessly outside as their infant’s cries echo from a neighboring chamber—a sound that claws at her composure. Her husband, absorbed in his newspaper, dismisses her distress with pragmatic indifference. Across the corridor, another mother knits in sunlit serenity, her healthy child’s laughter sharpening Toshiko’s anguish over her own loss. Whispers of a dead child haunt conversations, weaving guilt and unresolved sorrow into every interaction. When relocated to Wuhu’s tranquil gardens, fragile peace emerges—until news arrives of another infant’s death. Toshiko’s smile fractures into something raw and unsettling, her relief laced with torment. Amid swaying pagoda trees and caged birds, unspoken truths hover like storm clouds, binding two mothers across distances in a silent dance of grief and fragile hope. |