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

| Original Title | 渡り鳥 |
|---|---|
| Author | 太宰 治 |
| Genre | Modern Short Fiction |
| Author Type | Male Author |
| Summary | On a chilly autumn night in Tokyo, a disheveled young man lingers outside a concert hall, his frayed jumper and unkempt hair masking a sharp, restless mind. Struggling to survive through odd jobs and black-market dealings, he navigates a world of pretentious intellectuals and hollow social rituals. After awkwardly flattering a pompous music critic, he drifts into Ginza’s neon-lit streets, his thoughts spiraling between contempt for bourgeois hypocrisy and self-loathing for his own compromises. A chance encounter with an aspiring writer—a man equally desperate yet deluded—leads to a drunken night of forced camaraderie, where stolen philosophies and half-digested literary theories clash over cheap sake. Beneath the banter lies a simmering disgust: for critics without conviction, revolutionaries steeped in vanity, and the empty performativity of art. As dawn approaches, the young man flees the tavern, haunted by the absurdity of it all. His flight—like a waterbird taking wing—hints at both escape and an unshakable yearning for something genuine in a world of masks. |