Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

Mishima Yuzuru left his senior’s house.
It was an evening when rain clouds still lingered in the sky—dark, with the rain-soaked ground squelching underfoot, making it impossible to walk quickly.
Moreover, since it was a town on the outskirts of Yamanote, even though it had just struck ten o’clock not long ago, the houses on both sides had already gone to sleep and were quiet and still, making the road feel interminably long.
So he thought of taking a car to the train station if one were available, but since there had been no place with cars when he came in the evening, he quickly abandoned that idea.
As he abandoned the idea, the matter of the woman he had been discussing with his senior until now rose to his consciousness.

The words his senior had said—"We need to investigate the woman's background and origins a bit more thoroughly"—rose in his mind.
For Fujiwara-kun, a law graduate, it was perfectly reasonable to consider cohabiting with a woman of unknown background reckless—but shouldn’t her past be irrelevant? She was born in a coastal town of this country, lost her father—a physician—at age three, grew up under her mother’s new husband who ran a fisheries company, and after her mother’s death three years ago found the household turning cold enough to flee last year—that had to be the truth of it. Her lineage might be unclear, but surely it meant nothing significant...

The words his senior had said with a laugh—"Do you really think a woman can be had so easily?"—suddenly resurfaced in his mind.
Now that he thought about it, the chance opportunity through which he had obtained that woman was so improbable as to seem almost mysterious.
However, when considered from society's common examples, it was an utterly mundane affair.
I had gone to breathe the coastal air for five or six days before commencing serious preparations for the upcoming Higher Civil Service Examination—to put it plainly, it was one of those simple incidents found in daily newspaper social columns: a young man goes seaside for leisure, happens to make a young woman's acquaintance, and by that very evening becomes inextricably bound to her. Nothing particularly strange about it.

The circumstances of the day he became involved with the woman floated hazily into his mind.
An amber sunset glow lingered beyond the pine grove, the air thick with springlike humidity that left the skin of his face and hands languidly soft—it had been that sort of day.
He took the path winding through the oak grove bordering the pine grove.
This was the route he had walked each morning and evening since arriving at the coast.
The oak leaves had already shed their green, rustling dryly on days when the wind blew.

In front of that oak grove spread a slightly wide cultivated area, with rice plants tinged yellow and green fields of radishes and onions.
There, a village river flowed parallel to the oak grove, and on the embankment where willows grew scattered here and there, five or six people were spread out fishing.
Though the number of people differed, it was a scene he encountered daily.
Among those anglers, there must surely have been one or two people who had come to the coast for leisure.
Such people carried the inn’s large buckets instead of fish baskets, and peering inside, one might occasionally find they’d caught a small crucian carp or two, or held sand trout four or five inches long.

Where the path he had walked along met the village river, a plank bridge topped with soil spanned overhead. By the right edge of that bridge stood a man holding a fishing rod. He was a man with prominent cheekbones and a shoehorn-shaped mustache beneath his nose, wearing a black moss crepe heko obi sash tied high on his hips. He carried himself like an elementary school teacher or police officer. He peered into the fish basket placed at his feet. Inside were five or six sand trout.

“You’ve caught some sand trout, I see.”

As he said by way of greeting,

“With the weather being so favorable today, I thought I’d catch a bit more, but nothing’s biting.”

“So it really does depend on the weather, huh?”

“On days when it’s too bright and you can see all the way to the riverbed, it’s no good. Even today—if it were just a bit cloudier, that’d be better.”

“I see...”

He glanced up at the sky.
Thin clouds flowed across the sky, forming a mesh-like pattern.
After seeing the clouds, he thought of heading toward the river embankment—but when his gaze fell upon the plank bridge, he spotted a young woman standing on its far side, looking in his direction.
Her petite frame was wrapped in a lavish purple-patterned figured silk garment.
She looked somewhat like a maid or a schoolgirl.
On her pale, elongated face were black eyes.
He simply thought she must be someone staying at a villa nearby and, feeling no particular curiosity beyond that, put the woman out of his mind as he walked along the embankment upstream.

After walking about two blocks, the cultivated land on the left side disappeared, and the reddish-brown plateau of the pine grove came into view.
There, too, was a log bridge built by laying two logs side by side to cross to the far bank of the river, but he did not take it, instead stepping onto the reddish-brown earth that rose at a steep incline toward the plateau and climbed onward.

There was an old, large black pine tree, its exposed roots here and there resembling earth spiders with their legs splayed out.
He had sat on one of those exposed pine roots reading a magazine both yesterday and the day before, so that day too he went to the familiar root where he had sat just the previous day, took his seat, and gazed downstream.
In the thin, dull sunlight, the anglers stood silent and motionless like figures painted in a picture.
He had just recalled the woman, so he looked around again, but no figure resembling her was to be seen.

He took out the magazine he had unconsciously tucked into his pocket and began reading. As he read on, it grew more interesting until he had completely forgotten everything else, becoming engrossed in the text. It was a critical essay featuring headlines such as "Thorough Advocacy for Military Reduction," "Perspectives on Social Evils Arising from Threats to the Right to Subsistence," and "The Washington Conference and Arms Limitations." When he started reading a commentary by a certain renowned essayist—one of those thinkers who move from the vexations of real life into the realms of philosophy and religion—he felt such oppressive gloom pressing on his head that he stopped reading and looked up, only to find his surroundings had turned gray as though the sun had set. Thinking the inn would have dinner prepared, he decided to return and was tucking away the magazine when he suddenly noticed a woman sitting alone in a slightly sunken, grassy area to his right—legs stretched forward, hands clasping her knees, head bowed as if deep in thought. The color scheme of her clothes matched that of the woman he had seen earlier beyond the plank bridge.

He felt doubtful.
Why was that woman still here?
Or perhaps she’d come out for a stroll to amuse herself out of boredom—just like I had—but seeing her hunched there so dejectedly made me wonder if something troubled her. Approaching might make her resent me like some meddling demon, but I resolved to ask anyway.
He stood and began walking toward her, but moving stealthily felt guiltily conspiratorial. To mask this, he coughed lightly twice and strode over with forced bravado.

The woman noticed the cough and footsteps and looked this way.
That was indeed the woman from earlier.
Without showing particular surprise, she immediately turned her face away.
He caught his garment's hem on a dogwood branch as he approached right beside her.
The woman turned her lovely face toward him again.

“Where are you staying?”

“I only arrived here recently, you see.”

The woman said mournfully.

“Then you haven’t yet taken lodgings anywhere?”

“Well... circumstances being what they are.”

He suddenly thought that the woman might have someone she was waiting to meet.

“It’s gotten so late, and seeing you here all alone like this—that’s why I thought I should ask.”

“Thank you. Are you staying at an inn around here?”

"I’ve been staying at a place called Keimeikan just over there for five or six days now. If your lodgings aren’t suitable, please come by. I’m Mishima."

"Thank you. Perhaps... I must ask this of you. You are Mr. Mishima, correct?"

"That’s right—I’m Mishima Yuzuru. Well then, I’ll take my leave. Do come by if it suits you."

He parted ways with the woman and walked on, but her frail demeanor troubled him—could she be one of those suicide victims often seen in newspapers?—when the thought struck him.
He stopped walking and stealthily peered at the woman from the shadows of the pine trunks.

The woman had both palms pressed against her face.
She certainly seemed to be crying.
He had already forgotten about dinner and remained motionless watching the woman…….

Yuzuru suddenly noticed he had come to a bend in the road. As he turned left to look, a house entrance came into view where a zelkova tree stood at its exit. Behind it rose a plank fence pillar bearing a lit gate lantern—encased in wire mesh under a round shade—with two or three dwarf bamboo stalks growing alongside it, their small leaves perfectly still. When he glanced up, black spots appeared on the lamp's inner shade surface. A gecko had extended its neck nearly fifteen centimeters long as if hunting prey. He halted mid-step—Huh? The lamp shade began spinning like a whirling globe. Convinced he'd witnessed something unnatural, he abandoned caution about the rough path and broke into a half-run around the leftward curve.

II

Yuzuru had been walking while tormented by strange thoughts, but as he went on and his mind gradually began to clear, he started thinking such absurdities couldn't possibly exist in this modern world—it must have been some trick of his nerves.
But if this truly was just nerves acting up, then I might actually be losing my mind tonight.
I began wondering whether this might not be the precursor to madness itself.
When this thought came over him, a profound melancholy settled in his heart.

Amidst that gloom, Yuzuru came to suspect even his chance encounter with the woman wasn't real—that too must have been some bizarre hallucination born from his frayed nerves.

Before he knew it, he had emerged onto a wider, brighter path than before.
And then, his mood began to lighten.
He recalled that the woman must be eagerly awaiting my return.
The image rose of a bird-like woman—her demeanor light and unassuming—propping herself up on one elbow as she leaned against the desk, listening intently while hearing the sound of the glass-paned entrance door opening, waiting for my return.
As this image rose, he began to think of his plan to cohabit with the woman by renting the second floor of an amateur’s house—a plan he had discussed with his senior that very evening.

The senior’s words—"You’ll have to take a wife eventually, so marrying a decent woman might be acceptable, but even so, isn’t this rather rash?"—uttered with laughter, now returned to him with an unpleasant aftertaste.

Though not wholly ignorant of professional women, having no experience with untrained virgins like this, he couldn’t escape the sensation that obtaining her so effortlessly—even accounting for any special circumstances she might have—felt exactly like reading some fairy tale.

The words he himself had spoken—"I find it strange too; it feels like I'm reading a fairy tale"—came back to him.
He thought Senpai had every reason to say such things.

……The woman began to stagger through the pitch-dark woods.
And then, she started to pass by his side toward the coast but was sobbing convulsively.
He became certain that the woman intended to kill herself, so he resolved to save her.
Even so, thinking he mustn’t startle the woman, he walked on after letting her pass by two or three ken.

“Hello? Hello?”

The woman showed a pale face for a moment but immediately started walking quickly.

“I’m the man from earlier—I’m not suspicious at all. You seem to be in trouble, so I came to ask. Please wait.”

The woman seemed to show her pale face again slightly but did not stop her steps.

“Wait, please wait—you seem to be in great distress.”

He finally approached the woman and laid his hand on the sash at her waist.

“I am Mishima, the man you met earlier. You seem to be in great distress.”

The woman obediently came to a stop, but at the same time covered her face with both hands and began to cry.

"It seems you have some circumstances. Please tell me—I’ll hear you out."

The woman did nothing but cry.

“It’s strange to talk in a place like this—let’s go to my lodgings. Once we’re there, I’ll listen properly to your story.”

He finally grasped the woman’s hand.……

The road bent once more into a narrow, dark passage.
Yuzuru wanted to return quickly to reassure the woman waiting restlessly for his return on the second floor of his lodgings, so he set off briskly down the steeply sloping path.
Before his eyes appeared the innocent, gentle face of the woman.

……(I had no choice but to die—there was nowhere else to leave this body.)

The sound of her weeping came back to him—how she had fled her home for Tokyo, worked as a maid in one or two households, then befriended a woman who taught at a private school. Through that connection she had recently taken a maid position at a certain wealthy man’s house, only to find it meant something beyond domestic service. On her very first night there, the master had made unwelcome advances, forcing her to flee that same evening and wander dazed to the coast—all this she had recounted through tears.

Yuzuru fixed his eyes on the figure of the person walking to his right.
The right side of the road was a cliff, and atop it shone a single gate lantern.
The person walking on the right made as if to turn this way.

“Excuse me, but would this way lead to the streetcar?”

It was a strong woman’s voice.
Yuzuru thought he glimpsed crimson lips.
He paused briefly,

“Yes—go straight ahead to the end and turn left. Soon there will be a place where you turn right. Once you turn there and continue straight all the way, you’ll reach the streetcar terminus. I plan to take the streetcar myself.”

“Thank you very much. I do have relatives nearby, but since I’ve never taken this path before, it somehow felt strange…… Well then, I’d appreciate it if you would accompany me that far.”

Yuzuru thought it would be troublesome to be accompanied by the slow-footed woman, but he couldn’t refuse.

“Let’s go. Come along.”

“I’m sorry.”

Yuzuru had already started walking but could not proceed as briskly as he had initially.
He had no choice but to slow his pace and walk.

“The path is rather poor, isn’t it?”

The woman followed behind Yuzuru as they walked and spoke in a somewhat firm tone.

"Yes, it's a poor path indeed. Where did you come from?"

"I came by the Yamanote Line streetcar as far as this area ahead, but since they said the city streetcar was closer, I came this way. While I've occasionally visited relatives via the city streetcar, this path is my first time."

"I see. After all, people in the outskirts do retire early."

Having said this, Yuzuru suddenly recalled the lampshade incident and wondered what this woman would do if such a thing occurred.

“It’s truly so lonely here, isn’t it?”

“That’s right. We find it rather unpleasant ourselves, so you must feel that way even more.”

“Yes, that’s right—I truly didn’t know what to do alone. Though they tried hard to stop me, it was a house confined by illness, and besides, if I were to stay anywhere, I thought I’d go lodge with relatives—so I forced myself to come out. Back there, there were still many houses with lights on, but once I came here, it felt as though the world had suddenly changed.”

The sloping narrow dark path came to an end, and a town not particularly wide but with many gate lanterns stretched out to the left and right. Yuzuru turned left at it while glancing back toward the woman. There was a slender face made up with rouge.

“This way—isn’t it somewhat brighter here?”

“Thanks to you, I’ve been helped.”

“It won’t be so dark from here on.”

“Ah, I’m quite familiar with the way ahead from here.”

“I see. The path isn’t good, but it is bright, I’ll give you that.”

“Where will you be returning to now?”

“Me? I’m heading to Hongo. And you?”

“I am Kashiwagi.”

“That sounds difficult.”

“Ah, so I’ve been wondering whether to stay with those relatives I mentioned earlier or what to do.”

Yuzuru thought this woman was not from a strict household.
There was the sweet-scented breathing of the woman right nearby.
He felt a slight temptation, but the face of the woman waiting for his return in his room—elbows propped on the desk—immediately disrupted that temptation.

“Well then, since it’s already late, it would be best for you to stay with relatives. I’ll escort you there.”

“I’m terribly sorry.”

“Alright, I’ll escort you.”

“Well then, I’m sorry to trouble you.”

“You know that house, don’t you?”

The woman was walking alongside Yuzuru on his left side.

“I know.”

At the corner where the road bent right stood a bar; from beside a standing screen at the entrance, the torso of a pale yellow Western-style garment could be seen, though within lay hushed and silent.

“Are we going this way?”

Yuzuru pointed toward the bend.

“It’s just past the next side street after turning—I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing to worry about. Let’s go.”

The path ahead suddenly grew dark.
Some people were keeping watch in this area and seemed to be deliberately turning off the gate lantern switches.

“It’s a bit dark this way.”

The woman’s voice grew hazy.

“That’s right.”

The woman said nothing more.

Ⅲ

“It’s there.”

Yuzuru, feeling as though he were being pressed down into the depths of something stifling, heard the woman’s voice and halted.
There stood an old-fashioned estate gate illuminated by a gate lantern whose light bled like ink.

“Is this the place? Then I’ll take my leave.”

Yuzuru became concerned about the boarding house woman.
He hurriedly tried to part from the woman.
“Excuse my rudeness, but if you would be so kind as to come inside a little further...”
The woman’s face was smiling.

“I see. Certainly, let’s go.”

There was a side gate on the left.
The woman walked toward it and placed her hand on the door, which opened without a sound.
Having opened the door this way, she turned around and waited for him to approach.

Yuzuru entered.
The woman leaned aside as though bracing the door.
He brushed against her body as he stepped through.
Then she followed behind.
The door shut again without a sound after her.

“Excuse my intrusion.”

A pale moonlight now suffused the area.
Yuzuru looked around his surroundings as though awakening.
The garden was overgrown with lush green grass that resembled spread velvet, and by the entranceway—marked by shoji screens glowing with light—stood a single tree whose golden-brown flowers hung in cascades like those of a trumpet creeper.
A sweet yet cloyingly toxic scent—likely from those flowers—seeped into his nostrils.

“This is my sister’s house, you know. You need not hold back here.”

Yuzuru thought it would be troublesome if he were taken upstairs.

"I'll wait here, so please go inside. Once you've gone in, I'll leave right away."

"Oh, do meet my sister just briefly—I won't keep you long."

"I do have some business to attend to."

"But if it's only a moment, that should be perfectly fine."

So saying, the woman walked toward the entrance and passed by the tree hung with flowers as if avoiding it.
Yuzuru stood perplexed.

A woman’s voice saying something toward the interior of the house reached him.
While listening to that voice, Yuzuru found his mind drawn to how the garden’s grass remained vividly green even in autumn.

A seductive woman’s voice came.
Yuzuru raised his face, thinking this must be the woman’s sister.
The lattice door of what appeared to be the inner entrance opened, revealing a bright silver lantern light; against this illumination stood a tall woman at the entryway, while near the lattice door stood the woman herself—both now brought into stark proximity.

Yuzuru thought that the entrance had appeared so far away because of his eyes.
He recalled how the lampshade had spun rapidly and, thinking something was off about tonight, turned his eyes toward the tree with drooping flowers—only to see those flowers whirling like a spinning machine.

“Since my sister insists so much, please do come in for a moment.”

The woman came forward and stood there.
Yuzuru felt as though his blocked throat had finally opened and looked at the woman's face, but his head was fogged and, with no room to think of anything, he walked toward the light as though drawn there.
As he walked, he timidly glanced toward the flowering tree and saw it standing quietly, adorned with golden-brown flowers across its entirety.

“Please do come in. I hear my sister has caused you considerable trouble. Now, please.”

Yuzuru found himself standing in the earthen floor before he knew it.
A tall woman with a waxwork-doll face and voluminous black hair tied in a bun—both strikingly beautiful and unnerving—stood leaning against the shoji screen’s pull handle.

“Thank you for your kindness, but as I’m rather pressed for time this evening, I must take my leave here.”

“Oh now, please don’t say such things—do come inside for just a moment. I’ll prepare some tea for you.”

“Thank you, but I’m rather pressed for time.”

“There must be someone waiting for you, but it will only take a moment.”

The woman revealed glistening eyes.
Yuzuru also laughed.

“Please do come in—there’s no one here who would object.”

The woman standing behind said.

“I see. Then, shall I excuse myself for a moment?”

Yuzuru reluctantly switched the hat from his left hand to his right and prepared to step up.

“Now, please.”

The woman stepped away from the shoji screen and walked toward the far side.
Yuzuru stepped up into the shoe removal area and then proceeded further inside.
Behind the shoji screen stood a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old servant girl with her hair in a Shimada-style chignon—who looked every bit the proper maid—come to take Yuzuru’s hat.
Yuzuru handed it over unconsciously and staggered after the woman.

IV

There was a table draped with rectangular Indian chintz, and in that room were placed five or six large Chinese-style vermilion-lacquered chairs.
The woman who had entered ahead showed the back of her extravagant gold-threaded crepe haori as she reached for one of the chairs.

“Please do have a seat.”

Yuzuru approached the side of the chair.
Then, the woman pulled the chair on her left closer and sat down diagonally facing him, so he too reluctantly angled his chair to the left and sat down.

“How do you do? I am Mishima Yuzuru.”

As Yuzuru began to speak, the woman raised her hand to dismiss him.

“Let’s dispense with such stiff formalities between us. Since I’m just a solitary old woman here, if you don’t find me disagreeable, let’s become friends from now on.”

“If anything, I’m the one who must ask for your kindness from now on.”

The servant girl who had taken Yuzuru’s hat brought over a comb-shaped tray bearing two small cups and a pot resembling a bamboo tube—one end fitted with a spout, the other with a handle.

“Bring it here.”

When the woman gave instructions, the servant girl placed the tray on the edge of the table between them and then began to withdraw.

“What has become of the young lady?”

The servant girl turned around and said.

“The young lady says she’s feeling somewhat unwell and will come to inquire after you a little later.”

“If she’s unwell, I’ll attend to her myself. Have her come when she recovers.”

The servant girl bowed, opened the door, and departed.

“Instead of tea, I’ll offer you something trifling.”

The woman reached for the pot’s handle.

“Please, I really must be going soon.”

“Oh now, surely that won’t do—there’s no one here to mind your staying, so do take your time. If this old woman meets with your approval, I’ll keep you company for as long as you like.”

The woman poured the liquid from the pot into two cups and placed one before Yuzuru.
It was milky white in color.

“Now, please do have some—I’ll be joining you as well.”

Yuzuru thought he would quickly get through one round of hospitality and then leave.

“Then I’ll take just this much.”

Yuzuru took it in hand and tried a sip.
It tasted sweet with a faint absinthe-like quality.

“I’ll partake as well—please do drink up.”

The woman likewise took her cup and made a show of tasting it.

“Though this is most gracious, I’m presently pressed by urgent matters. After finishing this cup, I must take my leave.”

“Oh now—what urgent business could demand you at this late hour? Why not linger awhile? Making one wait occasionally proves quite delightful.”

The woman laughed, thrusting out her lower jaw while still holding the cup.
Yuzuru also laughed reluctantly.

“Now, do have a little more.”

Yuzuru drank down the remaining sake in one gulp, set down the cup, and shifted his weight as if to rise,

“Though you’ve gone to such trouble, I truly must hurry, so I’ll take my leave here.”

The woman set down her cup as if tossing it aside, stood up, and lightly pressed both hands on Yuzuru’s shoulders to hold him in place.

“Since my younger sister will be joining us shortly, please do stay a little longer.”

Yuzuru’s body felt a sweetly pungent warmth and suffocating pressure that left him immobilized.
The perfume anointing the woman’s flesh had spirited the man’s soul away to some ethereal plane.

“Who might you be? We’ve no need of you here—off with you now.”

The woman’s voice pulled Yuzuru back to awareness.
A fleeting image surfaced in his mind—the other woman waiting for him.
He struggled upright.
The housewife sat ensconced in her chair once more.

“Now, now—must you recoil so from this old crone?”

There was the woman’s alluring smile.
Yuzuru thought that if he didn’t leave this very moment, he wouldn’t be able to get away again for some time.

“I must take my leave now.”

Yuzuru dashed toward where the door stood, flung it open in haste, and rushed out.

In the hallway stood a middle-aged woman with her hair in a round chignon, who moved to embrace Yuzuru and block his path.

“Who are you? Let me go—I’m in a hurry.”

Yuzuru tried to shake off her grip but could not break free.

“Oh, please do wait a moment—there’s something I wish to discuss.”

Yuzuru stood up resignedly.
And while keeping watch for any sign of her pursuit, he found no indication of that.

“I have something to discuss with you—please come this way for just a moment. It will only take a moment.”

The middle-aged woman loosened her grip but still did not retreat from her position blocking the way.

"What is this about? Since I'm in a tremendous hurry—since I'm trying to flee back without heeding the housewife's attempts to stop me—tell me quickly, what is it? What's this about?"

"We can't talk here—please come to the next room. It will only take a moment."

Yuzuru thought that if hearing her out would settle matters more quickly than struggling, he might as well try it.

“Then I’ll listen if it’s brief.”

“Just a moment will do—please come.”

As the middle-aged woman walked ahead, he followed and immediately opened the door to the next room to enter.

Inside, against the near wall stood an armchair and five or six chairs of different shapes, with a blue curtain hung beyond them.
That space appeared to be a bedroom.

“Now then, please sit here for just a moment.”

The middle-aged woman pointed to a chair near the entrance, so Yuzuru hurriedly sat down.

“What is it?”

The middle-aged woman stood nearby in front of him and laughed.

“There’s no need to be so distrustful.”

“What is it?”

“Oh, there’s no need to say such things. You must have understood the lady of the house’s intentions by now.”

“What is it? I really can’t make sense of it.”

“Please don’t speak such distrustful words. The lady is feeling quite lonely all by herself, so do keep her company tonight. After all, she has money to spare—with your circumstances, you can do anything you please.”

“I can’t. I have some business to attend to.”

“Whether it’s traveling abroad or anything else—can’t you do whatever you like? Please listen to me.”

“That’s impossible.”

“You don’t understand desire at all, do you?”

“I absolutely cannot do such a thing.”

“Her looks—there’s hardly anyone as beautiful as her! Isn’t that fine? Please listen to what I say.”

“I absolutely can’t do that.”

The middle-aged woman’s one hand grasped Yuzuru’s hand.

“Oh, don’t say such things—let’s go there. Please listen to me—nothing bad will come of it.”

Yuzuru did not move.

“No good. I hate that sort of thing.”

“What’s wrong with that? You should listen to your elders.”

Yuzuru had grown increasingly irritated.

“No good.”

He shook off the hand that had grabbed him as if reprimanding.

“You’re being obstinate, aren’t you?”

The door opened, and a small old woman scurried in.
She had snow-white hair and fish-like eyes devoid of luster.

"What's become of you?"

"No good. No matter what I say, he won't agree."

“Good grief—this one’s going to take some work too.”

“Since a wild fox has possessed you, it’s no good after all.”

The middle-aged woman spoke mockingly, but such words never reached Yuzuru’s ears.
He pushed the woman aside and dashed outside.
From inside the room came the shrill “hee-hee” laughter of the old woman.

V

Yuzuru intended to head toward the entrance—now transformed into a Japanese-style room with laid tatami mats and closed shoji screens—and walked hurriedly down the leftward corridor.
A dim light resembling indirect illumination suffused the corridor.
Within that murky glow lingered shadows of demons—malicious, venomous presences.

Yuzuru walked on, driven by bottomless anxiety.
The corridor met a room’s wall where it forked left and right.
Yuzuru hesitated briefly but, believing he had come from the left, turned leftward.
Suddenly all directions plunged into darkness.
Thinking this wasn’t the way to the entrance, he tried turning back only to find a cold wall blocking retreat.
Yuzuru halted in shock.
The corridor he’d traversed became unrecognizable; through a skylight-like window glowed yellowish light.
It measured one shaku four or five sun in length and seven or eight sun vertically—a small illumination.
Yuzuru had no choice but to walk toward that window.

The window was at about the height of Yuzuru’s neck.
Yuzuru pressed his face tightly against the glass window and looked through.
There, Yuzuru’s eyes caught sight of a bizarre spectacle.
In a yellowish earthen-floored space, a boy who appeared to be a student had been made to sit on a chair and bound tightly from above with a blue cord coiled around him. Beside him stood two women: the housewife’s younger sister—a robust woman who had accompanied him on the path—and a maid resembling the earlier housemaid.
The two women seemed to alternately attack the boy with something.
The boy closed his eyes and went limp.

Yuzuru stood frozen, staring at it.
The maid’s voice could be heard.

“What a stubborn mule you are! Why won’t you say ‘yes’? No matter how hard you dig in your heels, it ain’t gonna work. Hurry up and say ‘yes’! However much you whine ‘I won’t,’ it won’t change a thing. Before you get hurt—say ‘yes’! Wouldn’t it be better to say ‘yes’ and have the mistress dote on you? Say ‘yes,’ I tell you!”

Yuzuru focused on the boy’s face.
The boy remained limp, neither moving his lips nor attempting to open his eyes.
The voice of the younger sister soon became audible.

“Do you think they’ll send you back if you stay stubborn? You fool—once our sister takes a liking to someone, there’s no way you’re leaving this house, no matter what. You’re an idiot—can’t you understand even when we’re pleading with you so desperately?”

“If you’re clinging to stubbornness because you think it’ll get you home, that’s absurd—you’re truly a fool. You must want us to torment you again until you become nothing but feed.”

The maid looked at the younger sister’s face with a demonic, malicious laugh.

“Well then—it’s fine for *us*, but this one’s pitiful… Why must he persist in such stubbornness? *You*—try telling him properly once more! If he still resists after that—go call Granny! We’ll have her make him drink her medicine.”

The maid’s voice addressing the boy could be heard once more.

“You already understand what we’re saying, so I won’t repeat myself—but no matter how stubborn you are, once the mistress has decided this way, you can’t leave this house. Better to say ‘yes’ and obey her will. Follow the mistress’s will, and in this grand mansion, won’t you live like a lord? Couldn’t you do whatever you please? I’m not saying anything bad—say ‘yes.’ Come now—say ‘yes.’”

The boy still neither replied nor moved his face.

“It’s no good—go call Granny. It’s absolutely no good.”

When the younger sister spoke, the maid left the room just like that.

The younger sister watched her go intently, but once the maid had disappeared from view, she circled around behind the boy, lightly placed both hands on his shoulders, and began to say something in a small voice—but Yuzuru could not hear it.

The woman brought her pale face close to the boy’s left cheek, then pressed her crimson lips against it.
The boy kept his eyes closed like those of a dead person.

Two people came into view.
That was the maid from earlier and the old woman with fish-like eyes.
When she saw that, the younger sister—who had been pressing her lips to the boy’s cheek—nimbly pulled away from him and returned to her original position.

“It seems we must trouble ourselves again—such obstinacy ill befits your face.”

The old woman dangled a live, wart-covered toad by both legs in her right hand.

“Stubborn one.”

The younger sister looked at the old woman and said.

“Well now—if forcing this medicine down proves futile, we’ve no reason left. Shall we try one of the other methods?”

When the old woman took hold of the toad’s legs in each hand, the maid stepped forward.
In that hand was a cup.
The woman placed the cup beneath the toad held by the old woman.

The old woman let out a guttural groan and pulled the toad’s legs apart to either side.
The toad’s tail split in two, its blood trickling down from the tear and dripping into the cup, where it pooled faintly crimson and raw at the bottom.

“Granny, that should be enough. We’ve got as much as usual.”

The maid holding the cup peered at the blood inside and said.
The old woman also peered into it from above.

“Let me see, let me see… Ah yes, that should be about enough.”

The old woman threw the toad at her feet and took the cup.

“If this medicine doesn’t work after he drinks it, there’ll be no choice—we’ll all torment him first, then feed him to them. Hee, hee, hee.”

The old woman, baring her toothless gums, moved to the boy’s side with the cup in hand; she inserted the fingertips of one hand into his mouth, forced it slightly open with a deft motion, and poured the cup’s blood inside.
The boy let out a heavy sigh.

Yuzuru could no longer endure the strange terror of unknown depths.
He desperately tried to escape, leaving the window behind as he moved into the darkness in the opposite direction.
There was still a cold wall there.
However, since it was a room connected directly from the corridor without any door to open, he reasoned there must be an exit.
He groped along the wall as he walked to the left.
Then, the wall ended, and there was a gap resembling a hole.
Yuzuru, thinking it was the place he had just come through, exited there.

A dimly white light shone faintly, revealing a wide garden ahead.
Yuzuru felt relief.
Even if it wasn’t the main entrance, he thought, escaping outside might still let him return home.
There were two or three steps leading down to the garden.
He placed his foot on the stairs.

A middle-aged woman—similar in age to the one who had seized him in the corridor—approached from the left, a large bucket in one hand.
Yuzuru, fearing detection, quietly retreated and stood hidden in the shadow of a pillar by the exit.

The plump woman came right before Yuzuru, set down the bucket, and faced the front garden to whistle as if summoning a dog.
In the garden, grass resembling velvet grew thickly green.
When the plump woman’s whistle ceased, the grass stirred all at once, and from within it emerged countless small snakes.
There were blue ones and black ones.
The snakes wriggled and writhed as they crawled forth to gather before the woman.

When the woman saw this, she thrust her hand into the bucket, seized what was inside, and hurled it.
It was a raw, blood-soaked chunk of meat—impossible to discern its origin.
The snakes coiled their long bodies together like tangled yarn, twisting in a seething mass.

Yuzuru felt his vision grow dark and retreated back inside.
His body was seized once more by soft hands.

“You’ve no notion how I’ve searched! Where were you hiding?”

Yuzuru trembled as he stared at the figure before him.
That was his middle-aged woman.

VI

“You’re such a spoiled child. If you keep throwing a tantrum like that, you’ll make trouble for me. Come here.”

The middle-aged woman grasped Yuzuru’s hands and pulled.
Yuzuru wanted to escape and return home by any means necessary.
“Please let me go home. I have urgent business—I can’t stay here any longer. Let me go home!”

Yuzuru tried to shake off the woman’s hand, but it would not let go.

“You shouldn’t say such unreasonable things. This ‘urgent business’ of yours—it’s just some woman waiting at your lodgings, isn’t it?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Exactly—I understand perfectly well. Don’t you realize how much better the housewife is than that woman? You really don’t understand desire at all, do you? Come here now. No matter how much you try to run away, I won’t let go this time. Come here.”

The woman pulled his hands with vigorous force.
Yuzuru’s body gave way and was pulled along.

“Let me go.”

“No, you shouldn’t say such unmanly things.”

Yuzuru was dragged into the room.
That was the first room hung with blue curtains.

“You have no idea how long Madam has been waiting. Come over here.”

The middle-aged woman released one hand and used it to sweep aside the curtain, then forcibly pulled Yuzuru’s body through into the space beyond.

In the center of that space was a bed, and at its edge sat the beautiful housewife, her gaze fixed intently on Yuzuru’s face as he entered.
Around three sides of the room stood objects that were neither quite folding screens nor room dividers, upon which vividly colored, bizarre paintings had been rendered.

“He’s such a spoiled child—I’ve finally managed to catch him.”

The middle-aged woman dragged Yuzuru to the housewife’s side and tried to make him sit on the edge of the bed opposite her.

“Let me go! I can’t do this—I have things I need to do—I can’t stand this!”

Yuzuru tried to shake off the middle-aged woman and flee, but could not break free.

“No use—no matter what you say, I won’t let go. Quit this nonsense and stay put! Honestly now—what a fool you are.”

The housewife’s eyes did not leave Yuzuru’s face.

“Behave yourself, stop throwing a tantrum, and keep Madam company.”

The middle-aged woman pressed down on Yuzuru, forcing him to sit on the edge of the bed.
Yuzuru had no choice but to sit down. Even if he tried to flee, escape was impossible—so he resolved to stay alert for a chance to bolt, but his mind churned too chaotically to maintain composure.

"There's no need to rush so—wouldn't it be better if you took your time?"

The housewife lightly placed her hand over Yuzuru's—released by the middle-aged woman—and gently pulled him closer.

“Excuse me.”

Yuzuru shook off that hand and stood up at the same time, slipping past the middle-aged woman as he fled.

“You fool—what do you think you’re doing?”

As soon as the middle-aged woman’s voice sounded, Yuzuru was seized from behind.
Even then, he struggled desperately to escape, but could not break free.

“Madam, what should I do? This fool is utterly impossible to handle.”

When the middle-aged woman spoke, the housewife’s reply came.

“Bring him here and bind him. A wild fox has possessed him—that man is beyond saving.”

The younger sister and a sturdy maid entered, but in the maid’s hand was a long blue rope like the one that had bound the boy.

“Are we binding him?”

The maid said.

“You’re to bind him in Madam’s room.”

The middle-aged woman pulled Yuzuru backward with terrible force, repeating herself as she did so.
Yuzuru was dragged backward, staggering unsteadily.
“Bind that fool tightly and lay him out on the bed—there’s something to show him. Once he’s seen it, I’ll torment him myself.”

The housewife was standing in the room. At the same time, the blue rope coiled tightly around Yuzuru’s body. “I’ll place him on the bed—but after Madam, I’ll torment him myself.” The middle-aged woman, laughing with huffing breaths, effortlessly lifted Yuzuru’s body and carried it over to the bed. Yuzuru struggled and thrashed about, but to no avail. “Bring that wild fox here. I’ll torment her first.” The housewife sat down on the edge of the bed again as she spoke. Yuzuru’s vision darkened until he could see nothing at all. He had been laid out on his back.

The women's voices—laughing and saying something—resounded by his ear. Yuzuru became aware of his own body being subjected to a grotesque pressure. Then, after what might have been an hour or two—a disorienting span of time—his face was wrenched to one side.

"You fool—look closely now. I'll show you that wild fox you're so fond of."

That was the housewife’s voice.
Yuzuru’s eyes snapped wide open.
The middle-aged woman was standing there, gripping the sturdy woman by the neck.
That was the woman from his boarding house.
Yuzuru tried to spring up but could not move.
Yuzuru thrashed his body violently.

“Go on and twist that wild fox to show him—that creature’s wickedness is the root of it all.”

When the housewife spoke, the middle-aged woman placed both hands on the woman’s neck and squeezed tightly.
And then, before his eyes, the woman’s form transformed into a reddish-brown beast.

“The beauty’s going to die—doesn’t that make you sad?”

Eternal darkness came before Yuzuru's eyes.
The women’s laughing voices were heard once more.

A vilely demonic, unnervingly warm tongue came lolling across Yuzuru’s mouth and cheek.

Mishima Yuzuru—a higher civil service examination candidate—had left his boarding house saying he would travel to the coast for a few days only to vanish completely; while his friends were investigating his disappearance, a brief article appeared one day in the newspaper stating he had been found dead inside an abandoned house in Waseda, having died in an unexplained manner.