Pathway to Japanese Literature

1

There was an elementary school on the midslope of a hill about six or seven chō (one chō being approximately 109 meters) from the village.
The school building occupied both sides of a square plot of land.
From north to south, it was a long, single-story wooden structure.

The seventh-grade classroom was at the northernmost end of this structure.
The rear was a red soil cliff formed by cutting into the hill.
In front of the windows were plantings of white poplars, cherry trees, and maples.
The deciduous trees, haphazardly and indiscriminately planted, grew so densely from late spring through early autumn that they cast deep shadows.
Therefore, during that season, the classroom remained dimly lit.
And immediately to its side and back was a restroom.
Therefore, the students hardly ever gathered near this classroom.
It was an eerie classroom that always echoed with students' shouts welling up from the southern corner of the playground.

The homeroom teacher was a woman instructor named Suzuki.

Ms. Suzuki was single and young.
She had a gentle side but also possessed a stern aspect.
On clear days during break times, she never left students in the classroom.
And this policy was easily implemented by the obedient fifth-grade female students.

However, it remained Ms. Suzuki's steadfast custom to return immediately to patrol her homeroom classroom after briefly withdrawing to the staff room when the recess bell rang.
During the longest break after lunch, she carried out this duty with particular faithfulness.
And there it perpetually hung - a black high-collared uniform draped limply over the window frame facing the playground of that deserted, empty classroom.
Folded at the center, with the collar hanging outside the window and the hem inside the classroom...

That high-collared uniform belonged to Instructor Yoshikawa.

Instructor Yoshikawa taught the higher elementary course.
After graduating from a Class-A agricultural school, he had spent another year attending the evening division at a prefectural normal school to obtain his teaching certification.
Therefore, among all academic subjects, he showed the greatest enthusiasm in his agricultural lectures.
In agricultural practice, he devoted himself with particular dedication.

The agricultural practice field was the garden that extended behind the seventh-grade classroom.
Therefore, to reach the practice field, one had to pass in front of Ms. Suzuki’s homeroom classroom.
When Yoshikawa Kundo reached this point, he would always remove his uniform.
And then, grabbing the collar of his uniform, he would swing it against the window frame as if striking it, letting it fall with a thud.

However, Instructor Yoshikawa removing his uniform and hanging the removed uniform on the window frame was not limited to agricultural practice sessions. While heading out to inspect practice sessions, when he intended to work up a sweat with students on the playground, or during physical education periods, Instructor Yoshikawa would invariably strip down to his shirtsleeves. Before removing it, he would check its contents as if concerned about something—this being his custom. Then he would hurriedly unbutton it and hang the jacket on the window frame. Thereupon, the pockets would hang down into the classroom against the wooden wall beneath the window, arranged like a letter holder.

2

The bell began to ring.
It was announcing that noon had arrived.
Instructor Yoshikawa closed the textbook.
And he briefly cast his gaze outside the window.
Outside the window lay a thick carpet of fallen leaves.
And at that moment, an entirely unexpected thought arose in Instructor Yoshikawa’s mind with an artistic spark.
Perfect!
With this, I can take off my jacket again today!
He shouted those words in his heart.

“Close your textbooks… This afternoon we’ll conduct agricultural practice. Since the playground is terribly littered with fallen leaves, we’ll practice making compost by gathering these—”

The students exclaimed in surprise! With that, they began clamoring.

“Ahhh, you mustn’t make such a commotion. By gathering fallen leaves from the playground to make compost—firstly, the playground gets cleaned up; secondly, there’s no material cost; you’ll produce compost and learn how to make it…”

The students burst into laughter all at once.

“Therefore, since we must first dig a hole, once you’ve finished eating, bring hoes and shovels and gather immediately at the back field. As for gathering the fallen leaves, we’ll do that after afternoon classes begin to avoid stirring up dust on the playground. Now, eat your lunches right away…”

Having said this, Instructor Yoshikawa left the classroom.

The students then gathered at the back field about fifteen minutes later.
Instructor Yoshikawa also thrust both hands into his pockets and left the staff room.
And when Yoshikawa reached the front of the seventh-grade classroom, he took off the uniform jacket and draped it over the window frame.

3

A breeze stirred.
By the window, fallen leaves scattered while shimmering in gold and coppery hues.
Glittering in the afternoon sun, they kept falling without pause.
And a section of the playground buried under fallen leaves glared under the sunlight, shimmering like a sea of flames.
The students, their faces flushed, were running about amidst the fallen leaves.
The figure of Instructor Yoshikawa in his white shirt was glimpsed within.

Ms. Suzuki left the staff room.

She felt her chest throb as she walked down the hallway.
For her, these were the most intensely charged minutes.

The classroom entrance door stood open one shaku—about thirty centimeters.
She halted abruptly, eyes widening.
Her heart began pounding violently.
Inside the classroom, a lone girl student remained with her face pressed against her desk.
Struggling to compose herself, she quietly stepped into the classroom.

“Fusae.”

Ms. Suzuki lightly tapped the female student’s back and called out in a low voice.
However, the girl did not lift her face.
Ms. Suzuki remembered the jacket hanging in the window at that moment.
After all, she thought it was better if the girl remained unconscious.
Ms. Suzuki left Fusae undisturbed and quietly approached the window.
And, crouching down, she thrust her hand into the pocket.

Fusae looked up and watched Ms. Suzuki's back at the very moment the teacher thrust her hand into the pocket. And Fusae nearly screamed aloud. For she had seen Ms. Suzuki—her own most revered teacher—thrusting her hand into the pocket of someone else's jacket hanging at that window and searching for something. Not only that, but because she had witnessed Ms. Suzuki swiftly push whatever she found there into her own pocket. Fusae had seen something forbidden. She immediately buried her face in her desk again. Her heart pounded wildly.

“Fusae, Fusae.”

Ms. Suzuki returned to Fusae and tapped her shoulder.

“Fusae-san, what’s wrong?”
“Hmm?”

“I have a headache.”

Fusae lifted her ghastly pale face and said.

“She says she has a headache!”

Ms. Suzuki placed her hand on Fusae’s forehead to check her temperature.

“The fever doesn’t seem too bad. What about your pulse?”

She checked the pulse and placed a hand over the heart.

“Your pulse seems a bit fast. Oh my, isn’t your heart beating awfully fast? Is it really all right to stay like this? I’ll bring you some medicine. Stay quiet and rest.”

With those words, Ms. Suzuki left the classroom.

4

The first period of afternoon classes began.
Instructor Yoshikawa brought his students from the fields to the playground.

“Alright! Hey everyone—quickly rake up these fallen leaves!”

Instructor Yoshikawa issued this command while kicking through scattered foliage.
The students shouted “Whoa!”
They began gathering leaves that covered every inch of bare earth.

“Minimize dust while working.”
“Carry what you collect to that pit we dug earlier—pile it neatly there.”

Taking the jacket he had hung by the window and putting it on, Instructor Yoshikawa said, “Alright then. Hey, Class Leader! Don’t let things get too rowdy.”

Instructor Yoshikawa said this and, while beginning to walk away, fumbled through the pocket.
Then he suddenly halted with a startled expression.

“Hey! Has anyone picked up the frog-mouthed purse?”

Instructor Yoshikawa continued rummaging through his pocket as he walked back toward the students.

“I didn’t pick it up.”

“I didn’t pick it up either.”

The students noisily crowded around Instructor Yoshikawa.
Instructor Yoshikawa kept searching with lingering desperation.

"Oh, that Tanaka guy—when we came back from the fields earlier, he was here fiddling with the teacher's clothes..."

“Where did Tanaka go?”

“Tanaka went to carry the fallen leaves, so he’ll be back any moment now.”

The six or seven students who had gone to transport the fallen leaves came running back.
Tanaka was among them.

“Tanaka-kun. Did you know about Instructor Yoshikawa’s frog-mouthed purse?”

Sugimura, the class leader, approached Tanaka and asked.

“You came over here first while we were still in the fields, didn’t you? And messed with the teacher’s clothes?”

“I-I-I, I just hung the teacher’s jacket on the window, that’s all.”
“I just hung it on the window—didn’t mess with it, I swear!”

“So was Instructor Yoshikawa’s jacket lying on the ground?”

Instructor Yoshikawa took over from the class leader and asked.

“Yes.”
“I-It... It was lying there.”
“And then, s-s-some dog had it in its mouth and was walking around, so I-I-I got it back and j-j-just hung it on the window, that’s all.”

“Hmm...”

Instructor Yoshikawa gave a low groan and stared intently at Tanaka’s face.

“Instructor Yoshikawa, what seems to be the matter?”

Ms. Suzuki leaned out from the window and spoke.

“I’ve lost the frog-mouthed purse...”

“Oh my, did you drop it? Had you put it in your pocket?”

“I was certain I’d placed it there...”

“Then shall I ask my students about it as well?”

Having said that, Ms. Suzuki returned to the teacher’s podium.

“Now then—everyone—put down your pens for a moment.”
“Look this way.”
“...I hear Instructor Yoshikawa has lost his frog-mouthed purse. Has anyone among you picked it up?”
“If you’ve picked it up and are thinking of bringing it to the teacher but haven’t yet, come immediately with it to me... Those who bring it to the teacher right now—those people are honest.”
“Even if someone picked it up—that—that person would be a thief...”

When she had spoken this far, one female student, Chiba Fusae, collapsed with a thud beside her desk.

“What’s wrong? Fusae-san! What’s wrong?”

Ms. Suzuki hurriedly descended from the podium. Fusae quietly rose, her face deathly pale, and stared at Ms. Suzuki with frightened eyes.

“What’s wrong? Does your head still hurt?”

Fusae quietly shook her head while avoiding Ms. Suzuki’s gaze.

“Then what’s wrong? You didn’t pick up Instructor Yoshikawa’s frog-mouthed purse, did you?”

Fusae did not answer at all. She simply stared fixedly at Ms. Suzuki’s face.

The students who had been staring at Fusae’s seat with bated breath began whispering among themselves.
“Could it have been Fusae who picked it up?”
Such things were being whispered among them.

“Fusae-san, you truly don’t know anything about it, do you?”

…………

Fusae nodded while trembling in quick, small shivers.

"Well then, since you're sick, you should go rest in the night-duty room... Alright? Please come with me."

Ms. Suzuki said this and led Fusae out of the classroom.

5

"Now, please have a seat there."

Fusae was made to sit in a corner of the night-duty room.

"Fusae-san.
You really don't know anything about Instructor Yoshikawa's frog-mouthed purse?"

Ms. Suzuki asked while sliding both arms across the desk.
However, no matter how persistently she pressed, Fusae only continued to stare at her face while trembling faintly.
Her feelings grew increasingly frantic.

“If you want money, I’ll give you money, so return Instructor Yoshikawa’s frog-mouthed purse.”
“Now listen—if you’ve already gotten rid of the purse somewhere, just tell me honestly about it.”
“I’ll handle everything properly… If you simply tell the truth, I’ll even give you money myself.”

Fusae made a face as if about to burst into tears. And then, as if wanting to say something, she twitched her lips but ended up saying nothing and lowered her face.

“Fusae-san, why can’t you just tell the truth?”
“Very well then.”
“I’ll have your father come here, and I’ll tell him absolutely everything…”

“Teacher,”

With those words, Fusae collapsed right there.

It wasn’t exactly torture, but Fusae dwelt on it intensely.
And she suffered mild spells of dizziness not once, but twice.
However, Fusae was not sent home as she was.
And that evening, Fusae’s father was summoned to the school.
The principal, Head Instructor Yoshikawa, homeroom teacher Ms. Suzuki, and Fusae’s father—the four of them—tried to pry some words from Fusae’s lips.

“Ofusa! If you won’t talk no matter what, I’ll rip your damn mouth open!”

Her father said this and placed his hand on Fusae’s shoulder.

“Now, now, there’s no need to go that far…”

Principal Takatsu tried calming the father and asked various questions himself, but Fusae’s mouth remained as immobile as a rusted door. Her lips were being tightly clenched with a resolute expression.

“Ofusa! Why aren’t you saying anything?!”

Fusae’s father attempted to grab her.

The principal stopped him and said.

“In any case, given how things stand now, forcing answers through questioning is impossible. Let’s have her stay with Ms. Suzuki for two or three days, keep her home from school, and let her properly settle her nerves. Then she might speak voluntarily.”

“Stubborn brat! Absolutely unbelievable!”
“Really.”

“Now then, Mr. Chiba, please return home. Fusae-san will stay at Ms. Suzuki’s residence starting tonight... Considering Ms. Suzuki has shown particular affection for Fusae-san, and Fusae-san herself holds special admiration for Ms. Suzuki... I believe this approach would prove more judicious in the end...”

6

Entrusted to Ms. Suzuki’s care, Fusae spent a week in what amounted to solitary confinement within a room of that boarding house.
Throughout that time, Fusae neither properly consumed food nor uttered a single word.

And on the seventh day, after Ms. Suzuki had left for school, Fusae hung her own red obi from the lintel above the sliding door in the boarding house's second-floor room and strung herself up to die.

The first to discover Fusae’s corpse was the amateur boarding house’s landlady.
Two letters had been left on the desk.
One was addressed to Ms. Suzuki; the other was addressed to the father.

The suicide note Fusae had addressed to her father told an unexpected—utterly unexpected—story.

Father.
I am deeply sorry for all the worry I have caused you.
By the time you read this letter, Father, I will already be dead, so I will tell you everything.
However, I am telling you this solely so that you, Father, may know what kind of child I was—therefore, please do not blame anyone.

No matter how much I wanted something, I was not a child who would take what belonged to others.
I know exactly who took Instructor Yoshikawa’s frog-mouthed purse.
However, that person is my most beloved, my most respected one.
And also, she is the one who cherished me most dearly.
She was the one who cherished motherless me as her own child.
Therefore, in this world, I loved you and her most dearly.
Suppose I knew that you had taken something belonging to another—could I possibly speak your name from my own lips?
No matter how terribly I might have suffered, even if I were torn into eight pieces and killed, I trust you understand that I could never have spoken of it.
At that time, I simply could not bring myself to speak of the one who cherished motherless me as her own child.

However, I am now going to die.
So that Father may be reassured about me, I will now relate everything.
The one who took Instructor Yoshikawa's frog-mouthed purse was Ms. Suzuki.

(Please, truly, don't tell anyone about this.
And please let it remain that I was the one who took it.
And please, Father alone, remember that I was never a bad child.)

During the lunch break that day, as I had a headache, I was resting alone in the classroom.
Then Instructor Yoshikawa hung his jacket on the window facing the playground.
Shortly after, Ms. Suzuki entered the classroom and searched through that jacket’s pocket.
She then tucked whatever she found into the folds of her kimono.
I was so shocked my vision blurred.
That my most beloved, my most respected Ms. Suzuki would do such a thing.
Please do not tell anyone.
Ms. Suzuki is not a bad person.
Without doubt, some demon must have possessed her at that time.

When afternoon classes began, the commotion about the frog-mouthed purse being missing immediately started.
Then, even though Ms. Suzuki herself possessed that frog-mouthed purse, she asked us students whether anyone had found it.
In this world where I regarded her as the most noble person—my most beloved Ms. Suzuki—to do such a thing shocked me until my vision blurred and I collapsed.
Then everyone concluded I must have been holding that frog-mouthed purse.
Why didn't they strip me naked and check right then?

As for what happened after that, you must already know most of it, Father.
Everyone began blaming me.
Ms. Suzuki isn't a bad person, but having missed her chance to confess what she herself took, she must have tried by all means to hide it.
I was terrified of people discovering Ms. Suzuki had taken it, so I wanted them to let it be considered that I had taken it instead.
Even so, I wasn't particularly troubled.
But if it were discovered to be Ms. Suzuki, I cannot imagine what would become of the world.

After going to Ms. Suzuki's lodgings, Ms. Suzuki and I lived in tears every day.
Ms. Suzuki couldn't confess what she'd taken due to various circumstances, but because of this—feeling pity that I would be thought to have taken it—Ms. Suzuki and I lived in tears without speaking.

Father, I beg you—please don't tell anyone Ms. Suzuki took it.
And please, Father alone, keep remembering I didn't take it.
If they discovered Ms. Suzuki took it, something terrible would happen—but if they think I took it instead, since I'm just a child, everything will settle without incident.
Please—I beg you.

I will now go to be by Mother's side in the underworld.
Father, please take good care of your health and live well.
In the underworld with Mother, I will be praying for Father’s happiness.

Fusae’s suicide note had contained matters of roughly that nature.

7

Fusae’s father, keeping to the request laid out in Fusae’s suicide note, carried out her funeral without saying a word.
However, Fusae’s father gradually found himself unable to endure any longer.
Whenever he thought of Fusae—now dead—he would be overcome with such pity that tears welled up, and he found himself unable to stop the urge to blame Ms. Suzuki.
But when he thought of Fusae’s suicide note—written in such a manner—Fusae’s father would grit his teeth and endure, even as he swallowed back tears.

Fusae’s father, who had been obsessively thinking about nothing but Fusae day after day from morning till night, finally went to Ms. Suzuki’s boarding house to confront her after completing the twenty-first-day memorial visit to Fusae’s grave.

“Ms. Suzuki, are you here?”

Having said this and entered Ms. Suzuki’s room, Fusae’s father—upon seeing Ms. Suzuki reading at her desk there—without even properly greeting her, took Fusae’s suicide note from his breast pocket.

“This is my foolish daughter’s suicide note.”
“Well, please read it.”
“The daughter has written that I shouldn’t speak a word of this to anyone myself.”
“But unless you at least see this for yourself, I simply cannot find peace.”
“And if you would look at this, you ought to understand my feelings too.”

The father began speaking in a voice tinged with anger, but as he continued, it gradually grew more plaintive.

“Then I will take a brief look.”

Ms. Suzuki began reading the suicide note with an air of nonchalance.
However, as she read on, her complexion turned ashen.
The hand holding the letter began trembling in small, quivering spasms.
And the moment she finished reading the letter, she let out a loud wail and buried her face in the tatami mat.

“Even though Fusae-san had such feelings for me… Fusa-san…”

Ms. Suzuki sobbed while saying that.

“What’s done cannot be undone.
If only you understand Fusae’s feelings, then I can be at peace with that.”

Fusae's father could no longer bring himself to blame Ms. Suzuki.
To the father, it now felt he could clearly perceive what emotions his own daughter and Ms. Suzuki had held toward each other.

“But there are certain points where Fusae-san herself was somewhat mistaken.”

After some time had passed, Ms. Suzuki spoke.

“It’s true that I reached into Instructor Yoshikawa’s jacket pocket and felt around for something, but that something wasn’t the frog-mouthed purse.”

“What was it then, if not the frog-mouthed purse?”

“Please do not ask about that here and now.”
“Before long, the time will come when everything becomes clear.”
“Poor thing—since this is the room where Fusae-san was tortured, I too wish to be tortured here—but please do not ask me anything now.”
“The one who took that frog-mouthed purse was neither me nor, of course, Fusae-san, and the time will come before long when it becomes clear who that person was.”

“Who is it?! Who is that?”

“To explain that, I must first tell you what I took from Instructor Yoshikawa’s pocket—otherwise it cannot be understood. However, I find myself unable to speak of that now. Even without my speaking of it, before long everything will become clear, and both Fusae-san and I will be brought into the light. I hear Instructor Yoshikawa will soon be married—once he marries, all will be made clear.”

“What? You’re saying everything will become clear once Instructor Yoshikawa marries? What do you mean?”

“It may sound strange, but Instructor Yoshikawa’s marriage will prove that neither I nor Fusae-san were that sort of people. Until then, please refrain from asking anything.”

“Well, I’m not insisting you tell me everything right this moment.”

“I intend to visit Fusae-san’s grave now and offer my apologies—even if they cannot reach her…”

Ms. Suzuki stood up while wiping away tears.

8

Ms. Suzuki committed suicide that night in the same manner as Fusae.
She hung her obi on the lintel where Fusae had hung hers, hanged herself, and three suicide notes lay on the desk.

One of the suicide notes was addressed to the principal of the elementary school where she had worked.
The other two were addressed to her own father and Fusae’s father.

Her suicide note addressed to the principal could be called her public declaration, written at great length.
And the crucial portions of the suicide notes addressed to her own father and Fusae’s father were all merely sections excerpted from the suicide note addressed to the principal.

Principal Takatsu.
Thank you for all your kindness over the years.
Though I had wished to remain forever under your guidance, receiving your instruction, the mischievous god of fate has decreed this bitter eternal parting.

However, as I face this farewell, I wish to clearly state the cause that had been concealed by demonic machinations.
Given that my student Chiba Fusae met her end by her own hand so recently, were I to follow the same fate now, I believe it would surely shock society and leave behind an unsolved mystery...

Principal Takatsu.
Principal Takatsu, were I to choose this path, would you still think this cause lies entangled with Instructor Yoshikawa's frog-mouthed purse?
It is only natural that you would think so.
And indeed, it directly originates from that very frog-mouthed purse.
When I consider how a single frog-mouthed purse and less than ten yen in coins could thus steal two souls and snatch away lives, I feel gooseflesh erupting across my skin.

However, behind those superficial material matters lay far more complex spiritual elements.
And indeed, it originated from a certain teacher’s immoral conduct.
That certain teacher is none other than Instructor Yoshikawa Kundo, who wields his teaching rod under your guidance, but I do not wish to provide detailed proof of these reasons.
For his impending marriage will most precisely prove this.

I fell into deep, deep love with Instructor Yoshikawa Kundo soon after entering your tutelage—though this is profoundly shameful to admit, as this matter concerns not just myself but also Chiba Fusae’s honor, I shall now state everything without reserve. And we devised a method to exchange our mutual affections. On days without rain during recess periods, I never left students inside the classroom. And Instructor Yoshikawa Kundo, wearing only a shirt, engaged in physical activities together with the students. These two new exercise promotion methods were highly praised by you, Principal, and the other teachers, but did you ever notice that Instructor Yoshikawa Kundo had been draping his uniform jacket over the window of my homeroom classroom? Our exchange of affection took place within that jacket’s pocket. Instructor Yoshikawa would place letters inside the pocket and drape the jacket over the window from the playground side. I would enter the classroom when no students were present, take the letters from inside that pocket from within, and leave my own letters behind. And our love continued for six months. During that time, I had dedicated all of myself to Instructor Yoshikawa. However, Instructor Yoshikawa had not been giving all of himself to me.

Finally, Instructor Yoshikawa informed me that we absolutely had to part ways.
The reason given was that there existed a fiancée, and that he absolutely had to marry in the near future.
I had resolved to accept this with dignity and thought to forgive his despicable past.
However, at the same time, the craven Instructor Yoshikawa had been committing unforgivably immoral acts.
It was precisely that craven, underhanded conduct that killed the pure-hearted Chiba Fusae and compelled me to choose this path.

When I received the letter from Instructor Yoshikawa Kundo informing me of his marriage, Chiba Fusae happened to be resting in the classroom due to a headache.
And without meaning to look, she witnessed me searching through Instructor Yoshikawa’s jacket pocket and thought I was taking something.
Then when the commotion over the missing frog-mouthed purse finally erupted, that pure-hearted girl grew so excessively concerned for me that she ultimately fainted from distress.
How foolishly mistaken I was!
I became convinced she had taken that frog-mouthed purse and tried interrogating her as if subjecting her to torture.
Yet that pure-hearted girl who adored me beyond measure could not bring herself to make me a criminal, and so chose to end her own life.
(To understand Chiba Fusae’s pure-heartedness, please read the letter she left for her father.)

And according to the suicide note that Chiba Fusae wrote while concerned for my honor, it states that I took Instructor Yoshikawa's frog-mouthed purse. However, as I have previously stated, this was her misconception from witnessing me take letters from the pocket—in truth, it was not I who took it either.
I believe that my death will prove this honor, and more accurately still, that Instructor Yoshikawa's impending marriage will serve as proof.
For Instructor Yoshikawa Kundo, knowing full well that I would search through that pocket, had set a trap regarding the disappearance of his own frog-mouthed purse, framing me for that false crime, and sought to sever me from himself without allowing a word of argument—such was the case.

Principal Takatsu.
Thus did his despicable fabrication kill the pure-hearted Chiba Fusae.
I shall now follow after her to console this pitiable girl.
I beseech you to condemn in my stead Instructor Yoshikawa Kundo's craven and utterly immoral conduct, and to proclaim to the world the honor of poor Chiba Fusae.

I earnestly entreat you at this parting to lay bare before Instructor Yoshikawa's eyes both this suicide note of mine and Chiba Fusae's suicide note addressed to her father, to confront his craven and utterly immoral spirit, to expel such a man as him from the sacred realm of education, and to ensure that no harm befalls the future and happiness of pure-hearted children.

The suicide note that Ms. Suzuki had addressed to Principal Takatsu contained roughly the following meaning.

9

On the night of Ms. Suzuki’s funeral, Yoshikawa Kundo was summoned to Principal Takatsu’s home.

“Yoshikawa-kun, to get straight to the point—this concerns Chiba Fusae’s suicide and Ms. Suzuki’s suicide.”
“However, I don’t wish to say anything from my own mouth.”
“Well, you’ll understand if you read this.”

Principal Takatsu said this and made Instructor Yoshikawa Kundo read the suicide note that Ms. Suzuki had addressed to him.

As he read on, Instructor Yoshikawa’s complexion gradually changed.
His hand trembled in small, rapid movements.
He bit his lip and continued reading it.

“Principal Takatsu.
While this may seem utterly despicable, as a matter of fact, there is one point in this suicide note of Ms. Suzuki’s that I must clarify.”

When he finished reading, he said in a trembling voice.

“Regarding this frog-mouthed purse—the fact remains it genuinely went missing, so this was by no means any despicable scheme I intentionally carried out.”
“If I were consciously engaging in such conduct, I would never have broached the matter of marriage from my own initiative...”

“However, granting that what you say holds true, how should the school address its responsibility?”

“As for my romantic involvement with Ms. Suzuki—that is to say, our exchange of letters through the jacket pocket—I cannot oppose making this public.”
“Given those two suicides standing before us.”
“Therefore, I intend to resign from the education profession out of responsibility.”

The principal said nothing about that matter.
The principal did not stop Instructor Yoshikawa Kundo from withdrawing from the education world.
And only a portion of the incident’s details had been made public.

About a month later，Yoshikawa Kundo held his wedding ceremony exactly as Ms．Suzuki had said—but by then，he was no longer an elementary school teacher，but rather the young master of a wealthy farming family in a mountain village．
He had refused absolutely to alter his wedding plans，simply because he didn’t want others thinking he was trying to conceal his own despicable nature．
He had forcibly carried out everything exactly as Ms．Suzuki had described in her suicide note—affirming its factual elements while denying what needed denial to preserve his innocence—all driven by a desire to appear compliant．

A replacement teacher for Ms. Suzuki arrived, a teacher from a normal school came in place of Instructor Yoshikawa Kundo, and the school on the hillside continued its former surface-level peace, pregnant with internal turmoil.

The playground lay buried under snow, and around the hibachi in the classroom from time to time, Ms. Suzuki and Chiba Fusae would be talked about among the students.

As the snow melted and the soil of the fields grew warm, the higher elementary students were once again called out for agricultural practice.
They were going to plant potatoes using compost.
Principal Takatsu was teaching them.
“Sir, there was a frog-mouthed purse in this compost.”

One of the students took the frog-mouthed purse to Principal Takatsu.

By now, the students had already forgotten that incident from last autumn.

“Hmm, let me see that.”

Principal Takatsu knit his brows in apparent puzzlement and accepted it.

The leather of the frog-mouthed purse appeared to have been bitten by sharp teeth, mangled and badly damaged. Inside were one 5-yen bill, two 1-yen bills, and a mix of silver and copper coins totaling about 8 yen. However, the bills had undoubtedly been bitten by something, crumpled and nearly full of holes. And inside was another item similarly marked with teeth imprints—a bookstore receipt—on which was written: "Dear Instructor Yoshikawa."

“Ah, this is Instructor Yoshikawa’s frog-mouthed purse. If you’d turned the compost more thoroughly when making it, you would’ve found this back then… No wonder I thought it was poor compost—you mixed it so roughly! …When handling compost, you’ve got to turn it well enough that even if something like this gets buried, you’d spot it right away.”

Principal Takatsu explained this to the students.

“Tanaka-kun, was it you who found Instructor Yoshikawa’s jacket that a dog had clamped in its mouth and dropped, then hung it on the window? If only you’d found this frog-mouthed purse back then while you were at it, none of this would’ve happened.”

Principal Takatsu said with a lonely smile.

“Anyway, we need to take this to Instructor Yoshikawa and set his mind at ease.”
“He must have been concerned about it all this time.”

Having said this, Principal Takatsu went to visit Instructor Yoshikawa that evening.

Principal Takatsu was reminiscing about those days on the steam train heading to the neighboring village.

10

When students left the school playground, it wasn't unusual for dogs to come shambling in.

When a puppy from a nearby farmhouse passed beneath the window of the Seventh Class classroom, a black Western-style jacket hung from the window. The grime-stained stand-up collar peeked out in a crescent shape. Rather than a crescent shape, it was closer to the form of a fish. The color resembled a herring.

In any case, the puppy thought a fish was caught there.
The puppy jumped at the fish and clamped its jaws around it.
The jacket fell down along with it.
Surprisingly, the fish didn't taste like fish.

It clamped down and shook it left and right two or three times, but still no fish taste emerged.

As the puppy walked around shaking it in its mouth, it discovered the frog-mouthed purse.
While shaking the jacket in its jaws, the purse fell from the pocket.

The puppy thought a piece of meat had fallen.
It voraciously tried biting into it.

This had somewhat more flavor than the collar, but no matter how much it chewed, no meat taste emerged.

Before long, the stand-up collar caught its eye again.
The puppy discarded the tasteless meat and went toward the fish.
Just then, a boy came clattering over.

It was Tanaka.

“You damn mutt!”
“You damn mutt!”

Chased off, the puppy abandoned the fish and fled.

“You damn mutt, always sneaking in here!”

Tanaka kept chasing it.
Just then, the fallen leaves Tanaka had kicked covered and concealed the frog-mouthed purse.
Tanaka, having chased after the puppy, returned and hung the jacket on the window.

Just then, a crowd of students appeared.
Instructor Yoshikawa commanded them to gather the fallen leaves and carry them to the fields.
The frog-mouthed purse that had been beneath the fallen leaves was carried away along with them at that time.