Pathway to Japanese Literature

1

The elder brother was called Kouichi, and the younger brother was called Min. Kouichi took over the assets and family business left behind by his father and became the head of the household. Min disliked practical work; moreover, having entered the university’s liberal arts department only to soon be afflicted with tuberculosis, he went off to the seaside villa and lived as he pleased. The relationship between the brothers was not at all a bad one. Without fail once a month, Kouichi would travel all the way to the villa with his wife Sachiko, having first discussed and prepared souvenirs that his younger brother Min desired.

Now, Kouichi’s wife Sachiko—who had been raised alongside the brothers as Kouichi’s childhood fiancée from a young age—had once fallen in love with Min while still attending girls’ school and even eloped with him when he was a high school student. When they were caught and brought back, Kouichi pleaded with their parents to quietly suppress the incident. “I won’t hold your sin against you. In truth, I should hand Sachiko over to you, but I find it utterly impossible to let her go. Please—I’m begging you—step back.” Kouichi said this to his younger brother.

And then, though Min and Sachiko had been forcibly separated, their passion gradually cooled over time, settling surprisingly easily in that state. When Kouichi and Sachiko held their wedding ceremony, Min—already afflicted with tuberculosis and convalescing at the coast—made a point of attending and taking his seat. “All three of us genuinely believed we were siblings when we were children,” he said, laughing as he looked between the newlyweds’ faces.

Though his cheeks bore the sickly gauntness and lonely pallor of illness, Min looked between the newlyweds’ faces and laughed as he said this.

2

When that autumn arrived, Min’s condition rapidly worsened. Thus, with her husband’s consent, Sachiko came to stay at the villa to nurse her brother-in-law. Kouichi too came to visit almost every weekend, staying overnight. From Min’s perspective, his brother and wife were his only remaining family, so he was overjoyed. Sachiko devoted herself to nursing the patient, forgetting even to eat or sleep. The patient lay in the seaside room enclosed by glass doors facing the ocean, his sunken chest wrapped in a fever-stale futon as he stared at the ceiling whitened and rusted by the sea breeze’s moisture. Between dry coughs he savored Sachiko’s devoted attentions—yet being so perilously prone to emotion, he occasionally reduced her to exasperation.

“I find it painful to have you do such things for me.” “I’d rather just die.” “No matter how you look at it—someone like me is just superfluous.”

“If you say such things, I’ll go home.” “Oh, just go then!”

At such times, the fever would rise immediately. And claiming this was Sachiko’s doing, whenever she so much as hid herself even slightly, Min would grow even more agitated, shouting at the nurses and maids, insisting they call Sachiko for him and refusing to listen. Even late at night when replacing the ice bag, Min’s eyes would shine brightly—but if it was anyone other than Sachiko doing so, he would become terribly cross.

However, when Kouichi was present, he could not make such selfish demands. He behaved with complete obedience toward Kouichi. Kouichi spent the entire gloomy, listless Sunday sprawled at his brother’s bedside, reading new books he had bought for Min. But whenever their eyes met, Min would silently offer a faint smile before wearily turning his head away and closing his eyes.

3

The fine weather persisted, and each day the serene blue of the sky grew more profound. The sea lay so still it mirrored the farthest island silhouettes with crystalline clarity, indistinguishable from a lake.

Min’s illness had somewhat stabilized in appearance.

That afternoon, Min ventured out to the rattan lounge chair on the sun-drenched veranda for the first time in a while. Sachiko went down to the garden and, since no one had been tending to them, bundled the overgrown and collapsing clusters of cosmos into several bunches, tying them up with string.

“It’s a peculiar flower, you know. If they can’t even stand upright, you’d think they wouldn’t bother growing so tall, I suppose.”

“Shall I help you?” “Don’t.” “You’re even more spindly than the cosmos—and yet here you are.”

Min stealthily directed his gaze toward the area from Sachiko’s shoulders to her collar as she squatted there in a gaudy, Chinese-style pajama set.

“Hey.” “What is it?”

“Tomorrow’s the day Brother comes, huh?” “Oh yes—he’s bringing some fine salami.”

“He’ll be surprised to see me up and about.”

“Perhaps.” “But don’t get too carried away and overexert yourself.” Sachiko stiffened when she inadvertently turned around and felt Min’s gaze upon her.

“Hey.”

“What is it?” “I’m happy.”

“…”

“I wonder if I should tell Brother—that just one kiss from you made me recover so much.” “You’re a scoundrel.” “Fine…”

“If you think I love you, that’s a huge mistake.”

Sachiko abandoned the flowers and stood up.

“You’re lying! Sachiko must love me more than anyone else in the depths of her heart. The love we once had, which had been sleeping for a time, has now awakened. A love that was once so single-mindedly devoted couldn’t possibly perish so easily. I had waited a long time……”

“I wouldn’t fall in love with some half-dead man!”

With those words, Sachiko ran off.

Min, in a panic, jumped down from the veranda to the lawn. And then, barefoot and staggering, he called out in a voice shattered by coughing. “Sachi! I’m sorry, I’m sorry. “…Sachiko!” However, Sachiko ran off without looking back, dashing from the back gate toward the cliffside pine forest. Min slipped into the garden clogs on the stepping stones and chased after her. Before long, Min alone returned, gasping for breath with a pained expression. “I don’t know where she went—she just vanished,” Min told the household members. Min writhed in agony, then immediately collapsed into bed.

However, no matter how long they waited—as evening fell and the beach and pine forest scenery became tinged with a sorrowful crimson hue, even as daylight began fading—Sachiko did not return. People finally began to worry. They made inquiries at the very few houses Sachiko might have visited and at the station, but could uncover nothing. Sachiko did not return all night. Meanwhile, Min developed a severe fever and coughed up copious amounts of blood.

4

Near dawn, one of the searching villagers—carrying a white lantern whose candle had burned out—arrived with a report, his face ashen. It was said that Sachiko had fallen to her death beneath the rocky overhang at the base of the cliff. The villa’s people were thrown into disarray. Min himself was in an exceptionally critical condition, to the point that even letting him hear such news was deemed gravely risky; with only young maids and nurses on hand, they were utterly at a loss. They first had to inform Kouichi, but since that very day was when Kouichi was scheduled to arrive, it was deemed that sending a telegram would only result in missing him, so they decided against it.

The autopsy had been completed by morning. Sachiko’s corpse lay half-soaked in seawater that had nearly receded with the ebb tide, directly beneath the cliff no more than three *cho* from the villa. Striking her forehead and chest against sharp rock protrusions—those appeared to have been the fatal injuries. It was clearly not a drowning. The cliff stood approximately five *jō* high, with a slight protrusion about one-third of the way up. From this jutted a small pine branch where her torn pajama sleeve had caught and now fluttered in the wind. During the fall, she had collided with that protrusion, bounced once there, and then plummeted headfirst. Fifteen or sixteen hours had passed since her death, but unfortunately, it was a rocky shore strewn with reefs—not during summer, nor a place where fishing boats would come and go—so it had remained easily unnoticed. The villager who first discovered it—exhausted from the fruitless search—had been passing by when he happened to peer down from the cliff at dawn. There, in the dim light, he was startled by a single black pajama sleeve with vivid red embroidery fluttering and billowing.

Since no definitive reason to consider it either suicide or murder could be found, the officials in charge readily concluded it was an accidental death. Sachiko’s corpse was temporarily moved to the villa, laid out once more on a white futon, and left to await Kouichi’s arrival. However, Kouichi was nowhere to be seen on the noon train that always arrived at that fixed hour. And before those who had gone to meet him at the station could return empty-handed, a telegram arrived one step ahead.

CIRCUMSTANCES UNFAVORABLE WILL COME TOMORROW——

Panicked by this, the household members immediately sent back an urgent telegram.

Kouichi arrived on the last train.

“There was a bid—I was delayed.” With the thick collar of his winter overcoat raised and lips trembling, he said this to those who had come to meet him. Sachiko’s body had already been fully bandaged at the wounds and wiped clean. Kouichi pressed his cheek against his cold wife’s face and was overcome with tears.

5

After finishing the funeral, Kouichi entrusted his work to others and returned once more to the villa. He had wanted to rest quietly for a while, and partly from a desire to cherish his beloved wife’s visage amidst her belongings in the room where Sachiko had spent her final days. Min had become completely weakened since then and seemed to have little time left. However, even in that state, his mind alone remained relatively clear.

It was a rainy evening—one so piercingly clear and cold it felt as though winter had abruptly arrived.

Kouichi lay down beside his brother, but the roar of the storm-churned tide clung to his ears, leaving him utterly unable to sleep. Draped over the bedside lamp was a lace cover adorned with ceramic beads that Sachiko had knitted.

“Brother.”

Min, whom he had thought was asleep, suddenly called out.

“What is it? Ice?” “No—... Brother, do you truly believe that Sachiko fell by accident and died?” “Why? Because there’s no other way I can think of it, is there?” “However, in reality, that is not the case.” She should not have had dissatisfaction enough to commit suicide. She loved me with all her heart and found fulfillment in being loved by me.

Lies. The one that person loved was not Brother. "You’re not suggesting Sachiko jumped to her death of her own accord?"

The two voices tangled in the late-night air.

“That’s not it.” “Ms. Sachiko was killed.”

“What did you say?!”

“Ms. Sachiko was pushed off.” “…I was the one who pushed Ms. Sachiko off.” “Shh!” “Stop talking nonsense.” “Even as a joke, if nurses hear this, it’ll cause trouble.” “Who would joke about something like this?!” “Let me tell you everything.” “I’m begging you.” “Speak more quietly.”

At that point, Min confessed the following to his brother. “My love for Sachiko never faded in the slightest, even after we were torn apart. No matter how much I tried to convince my own heart that I had to give up, it was ultimately futile.” And he resented his brother. “In circumstances like ours—even if Sachiko was your fiancée—where did you have the right to tear apart two people who loved each other with everything they had?! To say it’s because you loved her—that’s nothing but utterly unreasonable, completely lawless logic!” I could not possibly forgive that. I was resolved that no matter what happened, I would make Sachiko my own. However, sadly, before long, Sachiko herself seemed to have a change of heart and ended up becoming your wife without resistance. When I attended the wedding ceremony, I vowed revenge in my heart. Though I never planned murder, I reasoned that if my brother and his wife were so devoid of moral sense, then I need feel no shame for daring to commit adultery with that unprincipled sister-in-law—and so I began quietly awaiting my opportunity. Looking back now, this was undoubtedly an utterly despicable way of thinking, but given a timid nature made all the more servile by illness, there was nothing I could do about it. Every time you both came to visit me after your marriage, flaunting your affectionate bond, my base desires were all the more cruelly lashed. I began to grow impatient. Yet Sachiko did not seem to be the wanton woman I had imagined, and such an opportunity never arose. Amidst this, my illness gradually worsened. That my own wicked scheming itself fueled my decline goes without saying. When early autumn arrived and I could no longer move freely even when rising or lying down, Sachiko began staying overnight to nurse me. Yet simultaneously, I resolved this aim must be achieved—no longer under mere desire’s guise but through pure revenge—even if recklessly. Finally one evening, having waited until none remained but Sachiko, I turned to her and through tears confessed I had never once forgotten her through all those years—how deeply I had yearned. Yet Sachiko—who had silently endured my rambling pleas—suddenly kissed my fever-parched lips.

“And… I’m sorry,” she said. “But now I like Kouichi more than you.” My heart pounded as I spoke again: “That’s something I understand perfectly well myself.” “Besides, I’m someone who has only a little time left to live.” “I’m not saying you should abandon Brother and twist things back to how they were.” “On the contrary—I’m actually overjoyed and grateful to die being nursed by you like this.” But even so, I thought how blissful it would be to enter the next world believing Ms. Sachiko—even if this selfish wish were temporary—was the lover who encompassed my entire existence. “Please—I beg you—just once more, act like we used to when we were lovers.” “Since I said ‘act the part,’ mere pretense is enough.” “Of course, tell no one—let it be a secret that perishes with my body soon turning to dust.” “Please—won’t you grant this childish, fleeting wish?” Ms. Sachiko seemed to ponder this—then a large, beautiful teardrop welled in her eyes as she nodded deeply. “All right… I really did love you more than anyone else after all, Min.” “You’re my one and only lover,” she said. She gently embraced me and kissed me repeatedly. My heart suddenly filled with unease. I couldn’t discern whether Ms. Sachiko’s demeanor was genuine or an act. From then on, Ms. Sachiko and I constantly caressed each other when free from prying eyes. Though my initial plan had been to flaunt our affair before Brother’s eyes, I instead began acting cautiously toward him like a secret lover. In this spineless tale, I found myself helplessly drowning in this self-scripted theatrical romance.

I began to relive the love of my boyhood days. I was happy. And I gradually began to regain my strength. ……And yet, despite all that, I ended up killing Ms. Sachiko. That day was no different from any other, but a careless joke I let slip in a momentary lapse of composure in the garden unexpectedly seemed to offend Ms. Sachiko. Ms. Sachiko suddenly ran out, so for no particular reason, I chased after her. Ms. Sachiko stood at the edge of the cliff by the pine grove, crying. When Ms. Sachiko saw my face, she became terribly hysterical and shouted with intense hatred: “You coward!” “Drop dead!” “Who could ever love someone like you?!” “You’re the one who asked me to put on an act for you, didn’t you?” “And now you turn around and act shamelessly—what an utter scoundrel you are!”

I was plunged into the depths of despair, and everything before my eyes turned pitch black. That’s right—it was all an act! …A wretched act I myself schemed! I apologized to Sachiko. I entreated and pleaded, saying that from now on I would never act so presumptuously again—so please endure a little longer and continue this performance for me. But Sachiko coldly turned away and refused. I finally said this to Sachiko: “Fine. Then there’s nothing to be done.” “The climax of this act requires a change of plan.” “You hateful traitorous wench!” “I’ll kill you, damn you!” And no sooner had I finished saying that than I pushed Ms. Sachiko—who had turned deathly pale and frozen in place—off the cliff. “In that critical moment…to prevent the woman I loved from falling into another’s hands for eternity…I had no choice but to kill her with my own hands…………”

Min pressed his face into the pillow and sobbed.

Kouichi wordlessly covered himself with the futon.

The sound of wind-driven rain lashing against the storm shutters could be heard.

6

After a while, Kouichi emerged from the futon and addressed Min in a composed tone.

“Min, I don’t believe your story is a lie.”

Min did not respond.

“But Min—the one who killed Sachiko wasn’t you. You may have pushed her off intending murder, but during her fall she caught on a pine branch and lost consciousness. Not only had she not died then, but she’d likely sustained mere scratches at worst. A man who’d been following you both—startled by her scream—rushed to find you’d already fled. Seeing her hanging below, he fetched a rope and descended to her.” “Contrary to rescuing her, he hesitated...then kicked her body down anew.” “That man was myself. Why did I kill her thus? …I never trusted your bond from the start.” “In relationships like ours, avoiding suspicion proves impossible.” “The weight of doubt grew unbearable.” “I maintained calm while sniffing about you both like a hound.” “Yet whether nothing truly existed between you or you simply acted better—I found no concrete evidence.” “This absurd anxiety became intolerable—as if I’d schemed this marriage solely to entrap you.” “Then your illness worsened—Sachiko sought to nurse you overnight.” “I agreed at once.” “I deployed a maid-spy.” “Reports came of stolen kisses and embraces between you.” “Of course I couldn’t know this was your staged act—that poor Sachiko merely played pitying nurse to your dying self.” “I resolved to witness your misconduct firsthand.” “That Friday I arrived early—unannounced.”

“First, I entered the pine grove that offered a clear view of your sickroom and the back garden, then observed the situation from there with binoculars.” Opportunely, the figures of you both amiably conversing in the garden and on the veranda came into view. The two of you exchanged a few words, and then Sachiko abruptly broke into a run. You frantically chased after her as well. Sachiko opened the back gate and dashed toward the pine grove where I was hiding. I quickly hid deep within the pine grove so you wouldn’t find me. However, after a while, Sachiko’s piercing scream echoed from the direction of the cliff. When, following the clattering of frantic footsteps, you emerged gasping for breath—your figure glimpsed intermittently through the trees—you dashed back toward the villa in utter panic. I immediately recognized the gravity of the situation and hurried toward Sachiko’s scream. Sure enough, there she was—Sachiko—perilously clinging halfway down the high cliff? I tried to shout for help but refrained. Then I hurried out of the pine grove, infiltrated a nearby farmer’s shed, secured whatever well rope was at hand, and rushed back. I fastened the rope to a nearby tree root and rappelled down to where Sachiko hung—but upon seeing her unconscious face, my resolve transformed.—What a fool I’d be to save such an unfaithful wife. “If I kill the woman and frame her adulterer for murder, wouldn’t that suffice?” “Since Min himself already believes he killed her, there could be no easier scenario.” “There, saving her life would be tantamount to defying divine will.” Once I steeled my resolve, I launched her body with all my strength. She plunged headlong onto the rocks below—one sleeve of her pajamas caught on a pine branch—where white waves crashed and scattered. I considered retrieving that pajama sleeve and positioning it atop the cliff to fabricate evidence of a struggle between you and Sachiko—thereby hastening the incident’s discovery—but discarded the idea, fearing such contrivance might alert you to a third party’s involvement. I then sneaked the rope back to the farmer’s shed and immediately departed on the train home.

At the station—both when disembarking and boarding—I had changed from my usual attire beforehand and even donned sunglasses, thus managing to evade notice by station staff. Upon returning home, I promptly sent a telegram addressed to Sachiko stating she would arrive late at the villa. "It would never constitute an alibi," I thought while speaking aloud to you prostrate on your futon, "but could still sow some measure of confusion." The following day—after receiving word of Sachiko’s unnatural death—Kouichi arrived at the villa with feigned agitation. Yet there you lay nearly insensate from feverish delirium. "I had fully expected you’d face arrest on suspicion of murder," I continued methodically above your labored breathing, "given your veranda quarrel with Sachiko and subsequent pursuit. Instead they ruled her death accidental." My voice sharpened fractionally. "I ought have fabricated cruder evidence—left her pajama sleeve at cliff’s edge." The admission brought bitter aftertaste. But reason reasserted itself through gritted teeth: What purpose framing a dying man already convinced of his guilt? Better this cold revelation— "As her husband," my words fell like scalpels, "confessing how I completed what you botched…"

Min let out a low moan.

“Brother, Sachiko was just acting.” “Sachiko truly loved only you.” “And Brother doesn’t even know that…” Min coughed violently. And then he vomited bright red blood onto the white pillow.

“Min, what I wanted to say wasn’t meant in that sense.” “Hey Min…” Kouichi gently stroked his brother’s back as he spoke.

7

Then, after about a week passed, Min died.

Kouichi could no longer endure staying in that detestable villa and decided to return to the capital. And so, Kouichi tidied up various tools. Then, from within the desk Min had used during his lifetime, a single letter-like item enclosed in a crude kraft paper envelope came out.

On the envelope was written: To Honored Brother — Min. Beside it was marked "Secret". Kouichi held it in one hand and hesitated for some time. Kouichi considered whether to simply throw it into the fire as it was. But in the end, he resolutely cut open the seal.

“Brother. Please forgive this malicious prank of mine. If you opened this letter with hesitation, Brother, then I believe you truly loved both Sachiko and me. Taking shelter in those feelings of yours, I swear by God I will tell you the final truth. The one Sachiko loved was not you, Brother—it was me after all. That day, Sachiko had grown terribly hysterical somehow. When I caught hold of her on that cliff edge, she begged me through tears to die together with her.”

I love you, Brother, and though my life may be short, I absolutely refused to exploit Sachiko's whimsical sentimentality by joining her in some lovers' suicide. Then Sachiko suddenly screamed something and threw herself off the cliff. I didn't kill Sachiko. You're the one who killed her, Brother! You might wonder why I claimed to have murdered her myself. It was because seeing you endlessly dwell on her memories and keepsakes struck me as pitiful—while simultaneously filling me with unbearable revulsion. When I imagine living alone with Sachiko in a world without you, Brother, I feel supremely happy.

Kouichi struck a match and lit the letter on fire.

——I see. Did Min truly want to keep Sachiko as his own to such an extent? Taking Sachiko back from Min had been entirely my own mistake.

Kouichi stepped out onto the engawa and stared at the deserted sea view, lost in thought for a long time. Then he called out to the sea.

“But Min, I witnessed that entire scene unfold from the very beginning. Though it shames me to admit it, I followed you both and watched everything from the shadow of a nearby tree. Sachiko was driven by you to the edge of the cliff, but in trying to evade you—who kept relentlessly pursuing her even there—she lost her footing and fell. In your shock, didn’t you flee back home without even confirming whether Sachiko was safe? Sachiko merely caught her sleeve on that protruding edge partway down the cliff and plummeted straight down. Just as you did not kill her, I too never killed her. But in any case, it seems this contest has ended in your victory……You can rest easy now.”