Pathway to Japanese Literature

● April 30, 1936 – From Nobuto, Chiba City – Addressed to Toshi Muraoka (youngest brother; then a member of the Meiji University Hockey Team dispatched as a representative to the Berlin Olympics)

Early this morning, my wife roused me. Then she went on about the Olympics all day, growing so giddy she couldn’t contain herself—declared she must send an express letter. I too consider this a most auspicious occasion. Now guard your health well and return shouldering radiant honors. The entire Hara family ceaselessly hopes for this.

Ki

April 30

Toshi Muraoka-kun Banzai!

● June 30, 1936 – From Nobuto, Chiba City – Addressed to Toshi Muraoka in Berlin

Dear Toshi,

Was the Trans-Siberian Railway a long serpentine beast? Here in Japan, that record "Wasurechiyaiyayo" has been banned from sale, and Mr. Osada keeps popping up everywhere. Chiba’s rainy season has red-eyed balloons swaying gently in the gloom. Uncle Yanagimachi apparently visited Akiyoshi’s limestone caves after seeing you off at Shimonoseki. Zenjiro-kun plans to travel to Hokkaido this summer—they say the beer there’s good, but I can only imagine how much tastier German beer must be! They say it’s delicious precisely because you drink it there. How fares the team’s vigor? You looked rather gaunt when departing Tokyo last time—on such a lengthy journey, zeal and self-care are paramount! Berlin must be chaos with Dietrich-like women scurrying about and Nazis sporting eggplant-shaped mustaches. Oh, and word from Yanagimachi says another auspicious event approaches soon.

Kigu

June 30

Toshi Muraoka-kun

P.S. Chiba’s little pup has grown quite ladylike—rumor says she might bear pups by year’s end.

Kigu

June 30

Toshi Muraoka-kun

P.S. The puppy in Chiba has grown into quite the young lady. Rumor has it she might have pups around the end of this year.

● July 15, 1936 – From Nobuto, Chiba City – Addressed to Toshi Muraoka in Berlin

Dear Toshi, I heard you recently defeated the German team—splendid! Keep winning every match and return home triumphant. That would suit us perfectly, so I implore you to do so. Today during my day off at Yabuiri, I saw the Shochiku Girls’ Opera performing a show called *Olympics*. At last the rainy season cleared; Chiba grew hot and mosquitoes buzzed incessantly. Do they have mosquitoes in Berlin? Take care of yourself and stay well.

July 15

Kigu

Toshi Muraoka-kun※（Illegible.
“尓（ni）” or “与（yo）”?）

July 15

Kigu

Toshi Muraoka-kun※ (illegible
“Is it ‘尓 (ni)’ or ‘与 (yo)’?”)

● July 24, 1936 – From Nobuto, Chiba City – Addressed to Toshi Muraoka in Berlin

In this midsummer heat, I ask: Did our Japanese forces win? They say a baby will be born in Shirotani come November. In Berlin—did you manage to get more autographs? Don’t those Berlin schoolgirls pester you for signatures? Today’s typhoon winds blew; yesterday a warship off Nagasaki rocked and nearly sank. Ah, Tokyo’s a right mess with air defense drills! Heard those four Alpine climbers met tragic ends? Meanwhile, the pup here in Chiba draws a pack of mangy mutts lumbering around—spoiled for choice, I say!

Wishing you the best of health, In haste,

Toshi Muraoka-kun July 24

● Circa 1938 – From Hakone while traveling – 2-107 Nobuto, Chiba City – Addressed to his wife, Sadae Hara

Until just now it had been foggy, but now the rain was drumming down. A bush warbler sang while unfamiliar bird calls sounded. Last night, the corridor light had glared, and with people coughing all night and a baby's cries, I couldn't sleep. No matter where I went, there seemed to be no ideal place. While even I found such complaints amusing, my nerves remained constantly frayed. I was worried about things in Chiba too, so I might return relatively early. Gora had been terrible with flies. What on earth was wrong with me, turning the composure of others into my own hardship? Today I changed rooms.

The world had already split into two races: those who were utterly barbaric and those utterly divorced from life. Between them existed only tranquil robots.

● Shōwa 18?

Circa [Shōwa 18?] – Sender unknown (possibly from 2-107 Nobuto, Chiba City residence) – Addressed to Kyoko Fukagawa (sister)

I returned to Chiba and went to work, but perhaps due to exhaustion, I developed a fever and spent the day in bed.
The weather remained unsettled, and today another strange rain was falling.

Now then, I sent a parcel by separate mail; please receive it.
The serge garment had been slightly eaten by bugs before I knew it, so I put in some extra cuts.

As for the linen, please make an open collar with that.
Short sleeves are fine.
The collar size is 15.

As for the white cloth, I’d like you to make a collar. Please shape the pointed part as slender as possible—like the diagram below shows. The open-collar one can wait until next summer.

● April 4, 1946 – From Magome Higashi 2-899 Sueda Residence, Omori Ward, Tokyo – Addressed to Kyoko Fukagawa at 427 Motomachi, Kurashiki City

I went to Tokyo on the 30th.

I was struck by how completely Tokyo had been burned, yet there were areas that escaped the flames too—it felt distinctly different from Hiroshima, that much was certain.

I received a stylebook from Sueda, so I'll have Miki pass it along this time.

Mr. Waki is apparently in Shanghai, so he should be returning before long.

April 3

● May 18, 1946 – From Magome Higashi 2-899 Sueda-gata, Omori Ward, Tokyo – Addressed to Kyoko Maeda at 236 Takasu, Furutamachi, Hiroshima City

Thank you for the postcard.
The new home in Takasu must have been serene with green leaves swaying gently.
That year May was as cold as the rainy season—what’s more there’d been no rice rationing lately—in Tokyo’s trains you no longer saw people with smiles on their faces.
When I visited Mr Waki both of them seemed quite well.

I recently went to Chiba.
The original house had remained intact, so I felt somehow at a loss.
Miki came yesterday.
We watched a movie together.

● June 21, 1946 – From Magome Suedagata, Omori Ward – Addressed to Kyoko Maeda at 236 Takasu, Furutamachi, Hiroshima City

[Text omitted]

In my previous letter I made an unreasonable request of you, but as we here have now managed to find some path toward resolution, please put that matter out of your mind.

Since yesterday it has turned completely summer-like.
As Miki came yesterday,I handed over the stylebook.
I will be on vacation starting the fourteenth of next month.

I pray for your good health.

● July 31, 1946 – From Magome Sueda-gata, Omori Ward – Addressed to Kyoko Maeda at Furutamachi, Hiroshima City

Thank you for the summer greeting.
This year's heat had been extraordinary, but these past few days turned cool, and today it rains.
They say it will grow hot again starting tomorrow.
The food shortage persists unchanged, though lately I've been whiling away my vacation with afternoon naps.
August 6th approaches—on that day Hiroshima holds its Reconstruction Festival, and I hear they'll broadcast recordings to Paris.
I find myself rather wanting to go see it.
Last year today brought naval shelling to Hamamatsu; around this time then, we still had vigor enough to flee to Nuten.

Your opening appears imminent—I pray for its prosperous growth.
Give my regards to all.
Does Miki-kun visit you often?
Even Ena dango strikes me now as having been such a treat.

July 30

● April 1946 - From Suedagata, Magome, Omori Ward - Addressed to Shinji Hara (Eldest Brother) at Hirara Village, Saeki District, Hiroshima Prefecture

Thank you very much for all your help the other day.

The 7:25 train departing Hiroshima had been rerouted as a repatriation train from Ōtake, making it terribly crowded, but I nevertheless arrived safely in Tokyo.
Now that I have come here, Tokyo seems filled with both disheartening things and something that sparks new expectations.
The luggage all arrived safely.
Since the residency transfer cannot be processed with just a departure certificate, it appears this will take some time.
This is just my initial report for now.
Please give my regards to Miki-kun. And please tell him to hurry up and come.

● May 7, 1946 – From Suedagata, Magome, Omori Ward – Addressed to Shinji Hara at Hirara Village, Saeki District, Hiroshima Prefecture

I hope all has been well with you since then.
This year seems determined to cling to winter’s chill.
Thank you for sending those precious items today.
They say if we survive May and June’s food shortages, things might ease somewhat.
When spotted fever broke out nearby, they doused everything with DDT powder till our rooms looked snowed-in.
They made us take injections too.

May 7

● July 1946 (Showa 21) – From Magome Suedagata, Omori Ward – Addressed to Shinji Hara at Hirara Village, Saeki District, Hiroshima Prefecture

Dear Brother, I have been neglecting to write to you since then, but I trust you are well.

Since Miki-kun had also returned home, I assumed you had already heard about our circumstances here—though last month I found myself driven to starvation’s very threshold and became utterly spent in both body and spirit.
In that desperation I made a desperate request of Kyoko only to realize immediately afterward how improper it was.

I have gratefully received this check.

I have indeed received the futon and mosquito net. At that time I promptly sent a letter of thanks, but as it was a postcard, it likely did not arrive—it is not uncommon for sent postcards to go missing en route.

Tokyo was in the midst of Obon, and the trains were just terrible.
With that, please take good care of yourself in this intense heat.

Elder Brother,Tamiki

● October 13, 1946 – From Magome Suedagata, Omori Ward – Addressed to Shinji Hara at Hirara Village, Saeki District, Hiroshima Prefecture

It has been raining heavily every day, and this damp muggy weather persists.
How does autumn fare in Hatsukaichi?
This must be when matsutake mushrooms emerge.
Far from matsutake season here – we've gone over a month without tasting rice.
Living at subsistence level while money vanishes recklessly makes everything unbearable.
They claim this year brings bumper crops and ration increases – such talk only deepens my doubts.
I kept thinking Miki-kun would arrive any day now – still no sign of him.

Thank you very much for the check the other day.
It was accepted under the First Financial Restriction.
As for matters like special deposits and how they will be handled going forward, if you come to know anything regarding procedures such as property tax, could you please inform me whenever you do?
Now, on a different note, Mr. Henry Kubo was transferred to Osaka.
Through an introduction from that Mr. Henry Kubo, I came to know an uncle named Tosaburo Masuoka.
The other day, I visited the house in Ushigome for the first time.
He is said to be seventy-two years old but seems quite energetic.
He told me various old stories.
That house escaped war damage, and their son being in Kyushu means they now live as just husband and wife.
And he said that should you ever come to Tokyo and need lodging, if you bring rice he would let you stay there—please pass that along.

Ushigome Benten-cho 135 Tosaburo Masuoka

Of course, sightseeing in Tokyo had not yet emerged from the realm of desolation.
On the concrete of Yurakucho Station and on the stone steps of Ueno Park too, women clutching babies lay sprawled with vacant faces.
Ginza appeared to have become beautiful, but as a whole, there still seemed to be many areas that remained burnt ruins.

Please give my regards to everyone.

October 13

Dear Shiro-kun,

**Riddle**

① What appears large yet is small, appears small yet is large—

② If you bow once, you may receive four or five bows in return—what is it? (Answer on the back)

Answer: ① Atomic bomb ② If someone bows to a stranger at the station to borrow a cigarette light, then smokes it, immediately another person will bow and say, "Please lend me a light again."

● November 27, 1946 – From Magome Suedagata, Omori Ward – Addressed to Miki Hara at Hirara Village, Saeki District, Hiroshima Prefecture

Miki-kun, Keio University is on the verge of collapsing due to financial difficulties.
The issue of the headmaster’s re-election is in turmoil as well, so come quickly and do something about it.
This Saturday, there will be a Mitabungaku tea gathering in Classroom 11—won’t you come?
Lately, we’ve been able to eat rice occasionally.

November 27

● December 16, 1946 – From Magome Suedagata, Omori Ward – Addressed to Shinji Hara at Noboricho, Hiroshima City

It had been quite some time since I last wrote, but I trusted you remained well.
Thinking you might have already moved to Noboricho, I addressed this letter there.
When Miki-kun recently came to Tokyo, I learned of your circumstances.
The situation with special deposits struck me as truly deplorable.
With property taxes being withheld, inflation kept escalating relentlessly—it proved utterly vexing.
Here too, delayed food rations had recommenced, casting everything into bleak uncertainty.
The homeless masses bedding down on Ueno Station's concrete appeared in newsreels, but hearing eyewitness accounts left me more appalled still.
Because they slept on newspapers spread over concrete, evening editions reportedly rose to fifty sen as night deepened.

It’s such a pity that Miki-kun went to all the trouble of coming to Tokyo only to have no place to stay and return to the capital.

Now, since my school ended on the 21st of this month, I thought I would like to visit you there once.
I would depart on the 25th or 26th and stop by Kurashiki and Hongo along the way, so I should arrive in Hiroshima around the 30th.
I humbly asked for your kind assistance at that time.

In this cold season, please take care of yourself.
Please give my regards to everyone.

Elder Brother Tamiki

● January 8, 1947 – From Magome Suedagata, Omori Ward – Addressed to Shinji Hara at Noboricho, Hiroshima City

Thank you for all your help the other day.
The journey was hectic, but left a deep impression.
The return train was in complete chaos.

Thank you for seeing Miki-kun off.

● February 7, 1947 – From Magome Suedagata, Omori Ward – Addressed to Sumie Hara at Noboricho, Hiroshima City

Thank you for your letter.

Though winter has ended, the cold persists unabated, but nothing brings me greater relief than knowing everyone remains in good health.
I must express my deepest gratitude for your manifold kindnesses during my recent homecoming.
The train ordeal proved unbearable, yet the lunchbox you prepared sustained me with its exquisite taste.
Since returning, I've found nothing here that rivals its flavor.
This relentless chill keeps me perpetually hunched over, while Tokyo's avenues grow ever more dismal beneath inflation's shadow.

Now, regarding the matter of the kimono, I am truly grateful for your kind consideration.
Since I could not estimate it either, please handle it at an appropriate price.
After all, the sooner the better.

Regarding Mr. Tosaburo Masuoka, I had informed Miki-kun in a previous letter, but well, since he is that sort of person, I suppose there was nothing to be done.
I believed the luggage would be sent from the other party.
Still, I did hope Miki-kun would find a place to stay soon.

Just the other day, Mr. Nagai said he would search around Zushi, but the housing shortage remains quite severe.

There are rumors of a “Shin Shin Yen” being issued, but with no telling what might spring up next, Japan’s future remains utterly bleak.

In this cold season, please take care of yourself.
Please give my regards to everyone.

Elder Sister, February 7
Tamiki

● March 29, 1947 – From Magome Suedagata, Omori Ward – Addressed to Sumie Hara at Noboricho, Hiroshima City

Thank you for your letter.
I trust everyone is well.
With the weather having grown quite warm, Hiroshima will likely become livelier.
Tokyo too swarms with laborers, but what truly leaves me aghast is the dreadfulness of the black market’s darkness.
I hear Shigeru-kun has come to Tokyo, though he hasn’t appeared here yet; he will probably stop by eventually.
Miki-kun must be growing impatient without lodging.
In my view, I think you might try asking Mr. Masuoka Masazo for temporary housing.

Tobacco prices kept rising, and we could hardly ever go to the public bath—it was all so trying.

Elder Sister Tamiki

● August 15, 1947 – From Uchikoshi 13, Nakano Ward, Tokyo – Addressed to Miki Hara at Noboricho, Hiroshima City

It’s hot—this year feels excessively sweltering.
Hiroshima must be scorching too.
Lately here, daily blackouts and water shortages persist—we can’t drink as we please—yet Asagaya’s ducks keep quacking nonchalantly.
The other day’s whiskey ration made me properly drunk for the first time in ages.

It was sweltering, so I took my leave here.
The magazine was delayed again because Toppan Printing was in a labor dispute.

● December 1, 1947 – From Uchikoshi 13, Nakano Ward, Tokyo – Addressed to Sumie Hara at Noboricho, Hiroshima City

Thank you for the jacket yesterday.
It fits perfectly, so I am truly delighted.

Lately it’s been pleasantly warm every day here, but since I still haven’t found a room, I can’t rest easy.
I have already spoken to Miki-kun, but could you possibly sew some summer trousers for me in due course?
Shigeru-kun is doing well.

● May 4, 1948 – From Jinbocho 3-6, Kanda, Tokyo – Addressed to Shinji Hara at Noboricho, Hiroshima City

Thank you for the other day.

Having been able to stay seated and have meals provided for some time, returning to Tokyo made going out to eat both hectic and lonesome.

I will attend to the land matter as promptly as possible.

Please give my regards to everyone.

● July 17, 1948 – From Jinbocho 3-6, Kanda, Tokyo – Addressed to Shinji Hara

The unseasonable weather continued, but I was relieved to hear everyone seemed well.
Thank you for the trousers this morning.
They’ve been a great help.
Having kept some linen fabric, I made white trousers.
Then I altered the original summer trousers into shorts and dyed the jacket black.
Just when I thought I’d finally prepared for summer, Mr. Sakutaro Ota and Mr. Kyota Mizuki died suddenly—so the clothes served for their funerals.
Here at the edge of barely scraping by, even what’s around me somehow manages to suffice.
I pray for your continued health.

● July 13, 1949 – From Kanda Jinbocho – Addressed to Miki Hara

Summer had fully settled in.
Every night I found myself under siege by bedbugs, their assaults dragging memories of air raid sirens from years past to the surface.
Around August sixth I considered visiting you—but between the sweltering heat, empty pockets, and trains growing perilous these days, I resolved to abandon the idea.
Has Muraoka married yet?

For one reason or another, these days I’m living in poverty due to drinking so much.

●February 1950 – From Kichijoji 2406, Musashino City, Tokyo – Addressed to Shinji Hara at Noboricho, Hiroshima City

Thank you for your letter.

I have duly received the supplementary report.

I hear Miki-kun has happy news to share, and I too have recently begun writing children’s stories, thinking that someday Miki-kun’s sons and daughters might read them.

● April 6, 1950 – From Kichijoji 2406, Musashino City, Tokyo – Addressed to Shinji Hara at Noboricho, Hiroshima City

Spring had come at last.
Was everyone keeping well?
I imagined Miki-kun’s new household must be bathed in gentle sunlight.
Now then, with the Pen Club meeting being held in Hiroshima on the fifteenth, I resolved to reach there before that date.
My arrival would fall on either the twelfth or thirteenth.
I humbly entrusted this matter to your kind consideration.

● Late April 1950 – From Kichijoji, Tokyo – Addressed to Shinji Hara at Noboricho, Hiroshima City

Thank you for your many thoughtful gestures during my stay.

I was happy to see everyone looking so well after such a long time.

I returned safely to Tokyo this morning.

Here it is rainy and cold, and I am using a hibachi.
Please give my regards to everyone.

● August 23, 1945 – From Tao Address, Yawata Village, Saeki District, Hiroshima Prefecture – Addressed to Zenjiro Nagai (Sasaki Kiichi) at Fukaya Address, Minamimachi, Takahagi Town, Ibaraki Prefecture

I had just started reading Gorky’s Childhood and was growing interested when that book too turned to ashes.
A little before that, I had read Yokomitsu’s Shanghai and Yamamoto’s Shinjitsu Ichiro, but I thought Shanghai amounted to little more than empty bluster.
Abe Jirō’s Santarō no Nikki also turned to ashes midway, but having come here this time, I read Sōseki’s Higan Sugi Made. Whether it be that diary or Sōseki’s works—both products of the Meiji 40s—when I consider them, I can’t help feeling the Meiji 40s were more progressive than our Shōwa era.
That said, the Shōwa era’s way of thinking—though I speak here of the pre-war years alone—did seem imbued with a certain pliancy.

My collection of books too had turned to ashes—over ninety percent of them lost.
Though I knew they would be burned, I couldn't manage their transport.
All paper was burned too, save for two or three notebooks.
It felt disappointing to think I'd need to write so much from then on.
But paper would likely become available again, I supposed.
Here we could only manage two bowls of gruel a day due to rice shortages.
Yet yesterday canned pineapples somehow found their way to us.
I pray for your continued health.
There seemed things I wished to discuss, but I trusted we'd meet again before long.

August 23

● September 15, 1945 – From Tao Address, Yawata Village, Saeki District, Hiroshima Prefecture – Addressed to Zenjiro Nagai at Kounosu Address, 3-chome 1003, Matsudo City

Takahagi Town appeared to be on the coast when looking at the map. Yawata Village was a remote, impoverished village located more than one ri inland from Hatsukaichi. I had sent a letter some days ago, but it probably did not arrive. An unexpected misfortune had visited Hongō as well, hadn’t it.

Those affected in central Hiroshima seemed unable to let their guard down. We too had been living like half-sick people for over a month now, devoid of vigor. After all, with food being insufficient, it was no wonder.

September 28th comes around again.
When I think back, it has been a turbulent year.
I intend to visit Hongo before long.
Please remain well.

September 15 – Tamiki Hara

Mr. Zenjiro Nagai

● October 12, 1945 – From Yawata Village – Addressed to Mr. Zenjiro Nagai at Kounosu Address, 3-chome 1003, Matsudo City

I received the postcard dated September 30 today.
I thought you might perhaps be in Hongo—which would be ideal since I too wished to visit Hongo—but for now I decided to send this letter to Matsudo.
When I thought back now on the events of August 6th, I found myself increasingly struck by an even stranger feeling.

That morning around eight o’clock, shortly after the air raid alert was lifted, there were people who saw a plane drop a parachute over Hiroshima. There were many who witnessed light rays emanating from that parachute. I was in the toilet wearing nothing but underwear, completely unaware, when suddenly something struck my head, and at that same moment, everything went dark. After two or three minutes, the surrounding destruction came into view. The house remained standing with only its pillars, ceiling, and floor intact—everything else lay in ruins. I gathered myself and fled outside when smoke began billowing from the neighboring house. As far as I could see, every building had collapsed. When I reached the riverbank of the Izumi estate, the opposite shore was ablaze. At first I thought a fragment from a small bomb had hit my home, but coming here made me gradually realize the situation was different altogether. Then I saw the burned faces and froze. People with faces charred black and swollen beyond recognition of gender shuffled along like apparitions. That night Hiroshima burned without cease. The screams of those near death begging for water created a living hell. The next day at Higashi Training Ground’s treatment center, I faced fresh horrors. Each time I saw people left to die under the blazing sun without aid, I felt certain the war must finally be over. “Soldier, help me!” cried a young woman, but the soldiers themselves bore grievous wounds. I later learned two units—what was once the 11th Regiment—had been wiped out entirely. They said Nishi Training Ground became a mountain of corpses. After all, those caught outside were struck by the rays. There were villages where everyone perished while away on labor duty.

About seventy percent of the population died, but when including those who later succumbed to complications, the number must have been even higher.
Around September 2nd, the eldest son of the Yanagimachi family experienced hair loss, unstoppable nosebleeds, and spots appearing on his body—falling into critical condition—but he somehow held on and was now recovering.
I thought the cause of death for the brother in Hongo was likely the same.
Since the Motoyasu Bridge area was the epicenter, even those uninjured near the Food Corporation must have suffered harmful effects (some said they inhaled gas).
Noboricho too lay within two kilometers of the center—a danger zone where no one could feel safe.
There were indeed people dying still, while survivors had become rare.
I had sustained only light scratches, but neurological abnormalities developed in my right eye where strange rays of light flickered intermittently—a troubling affliction.
When I moved to Yawata Village and passed through Hiroshima’s scorched ruins, it was an utterly bizarre spectacle.
Corpses lay scattered through the silver-gray wreckage, swollen red in inhuman poses.
Horses too had bloated torsos and lay fallen.
If this was hell, it must have taken a modernized form.
What struck me first was not horror but sheer strangeness.
This raid had been a total surprise—so sudden that even someone timid like me acted calmly without time for fear.
Yet between death and survival lay only a paper-thin margin.

Let us leave the discussion of the atomic bomb at this point.
I am troubled by how the rain keeps falling every day.
The food situation here is bad, and I am being worn down.
I can only keep thinking how I wish I could soon ride trains again and that things would improve so we can live anywhere without hardship.
I too want to live near the city as soon as possible, and from now on, I intend to write prolifically.
I look forward to your future activities.
I also want to read magazines soon.
I received a letter from Kota after a long time; he must be working vigorously as well.
I want to meet and talk with everyone.
With that, please take care of yourself.

October 12 – Tamiki Hara

Mr. Zenjiro Nagai

●October 31, 1945 – From Yawata Village to Matsudo City: Zenjiro Nagai

I was about to send a letter when I received one from you.

The other day I went to Hongo, but both the inbound and outbound trains were so packed that people were to board and alight through the windows.
The upbound trains in particular were unbearably bleak, filled with demobilized soldiers and returnees from Korea.
In Hongo too, Mr. Yaozo had just returned with his family.
This time, I was greatly helped by the branch family.

Yesterday was Shirotani’s funeral.
At the cremation ground one kilometer from Shirotani’s house—a thicket where white bones lay scattered—with no coffin and only fragments of houses as kindling, the fire burned quietly into dusk.
Hearing that the trains would stop running, I left early and was trudging along the river embankment toward Tsuchibashi when I noticed the area was a burned field without a single light, where the stench of death still faintly lingered—but then, from that pitch-darkness, a baby’s cry suddenly leaked out, startling me.
(Though this may seem like a common story, such things still stir a desire to write.)

I too am troubled by my desire to quickly obtain an environment where I can immerse myself in work (in my current residence, with a family of ten, even reading a book is not easy). The other day, I also made a request to Mr. Katsumi; I am thinking that if there were even a boarding house in the Tadanoumi area... I want to leave as soon as possible if I can find a suitable boarding house even in the Tokyo area, but this will have to be considered in light of my finances. The desire to devour ever-changing phenomena from a closer vantage point and the resolve to firmly establish a foundation for my work at this juncture have become two sides of the same coin.

I pray that the magazine project progresses smoothly.
Speaking of the New Year's issue, it must be keeping you quite busy already.
In due course, please allow me to contribute as well.
I humbly make this request.
I think a literary newspaper is also a good plan.
Is this one published about twice a month?

Is Kota well?
“Are you still as radiantly energetic in appearance as when we met near Kyobunkan the other day?”
I was earnestly awaiting the day his poetry collection would be published.
A large-scale work in horizontally typeset katakana—something truly unconventional—would likely take shape.
Though admittedly, he might want to write more at this juncture.

Kota had written to me saying, “The literary world’s been hit by a small atomic bomb of sorts”—I found this an intriguing metaphor.
While it may seem many kept their flames burning without extinguishing them, weren’t they in truth surprisingly few?
It would likely still be some time before those young people caught in war’s devastation rose up.
In that regard, I particularly prayed for your endeavors in enlightening fields.

I had no idea how the Waki couple were doing in Nanjing.
Muraoka seemed to be in Manchuria.
Miki had returned home after being demobilized at the beginning of September.
He threw himself frantically into helping disaster victims, but since he didn't get along with his mother, he kept sighing about wanting to move to Tokyo soon.
My brother, who had been evacuated to Hatsukaichi, still lived without any hardships—if anything, he appeared to have prospered after the fires, remaining cheerfully determined to make his mark someday.
Yet Kyoko, feverish with black market gossip and trembling day and night with anxiety about the future, kept chattering incessantly beside me until it became unbearable.

I will put down my pen here.

I do hope we can meet in November.
Take care.

October 31 – Tamiki Hara

Mr. Zenjiro Nagai

●November 24, 1945 – From Yawata Village to Matsudo City: Zenjiro Nagai

I have read your letter.
Are you writing a novel? That must be something you had been planning for some time now.
I too have been wanting to begin working on a novel before long, but I have not yet formulated any plan.
Kota says he wants to start a poetry magazine around next autumn, but at present typesetting costs must be quite a burden; I would like to meet once to inquire about printing matters.
The other day I visited the Kumahei brothers—both were in good health, and Kinoshita had also survived.
Mr. Jiro Okada, who had been teaching at the music school, has passed away.

Regarding the magazine manuscript, I find the December 20th deadline somewhat rushed, but if possible, I will send it in.
I did write about the atomic bomb immediately after the event, but upon rereading it, I find it rather unsatisfactory; I think I would like to organize this material more thoroughly before making it public.

Here there is a complete works of Tolstoy that Miki had evacuated for safekeeping, so I occasionally open it and find myself particularly drawn to essays like "On Famine."
Studying Tolstoy must be quite an undertaking indeed.

Among Tokuni and Kaikei, who shine resplendently in *Winter Days*, while Tokuni’s lyricism was certainly remarkable, I had lately come to admire Kaikei’s writerly skill as if discovering it anew. What sort of man was this Kaikei? Though his haiku were not particularly remarkable, there was brilliance in his linked verse additions.

The other day I went to Miyajima; it too had suffered flood damage, but the autumn foliage was beautiful.
So stunning were the leaves that I gathered some and brought them back with me.

Hiroshima had grown lively around Koi Station, where a makeshift diner now stood.
The prices there made me think they couldn't be much different from Tokyo's.
There seemed to be no shortage of beggars either.

I trust we shall meet in December.
"Return safely."

November 24 – Tamiki Hara

Mr. Zenjiro Nagai

●December 12, 1945 – From Yawata Village to Matsudo City: Zenjiro Nagai

Are you well?

I began writing a new manuscript, but as it failed to cohere properly, I instead sent the atomic bomb account by express mail. It ended up being twelve lines of seventeen characters each, with some sections where the handwriting turned sloppy and the content proved unsatisfactory—but I trust you will handle it appropriately.

Have you still not come to Hongo?

An unbearably cold year-end is coming.

December 12 – Tamiki Hara

The atomic bomb—no mere improvisation.

In the summer field, fragments of illusion glittered.

Short nights steeped in blood—mountains and rivers cry out to each other.

Trees of flame soar up into thunderstorm skies.
Day's swelter—a crape myrtle saturated with death's stench.

Seriously injured people come to drink—spring water lukewarm.

A corpse on a ladder—peaks of clouds.
A girl drinks water as she dies—the sound of cicadas.

The summer moon dies digging claws into human shoulders.
Soul numbed, bending over the river—evening primrose.

Ruins too vast—gazing out upon a swarm of dragonflies.

●December 28, 1945 – From Yawata Village to Matsudo City: Zenjiro Nagai

In reply—I had received your postcard dated the 17th.
Ah, so there had also been the matter of censorship.
I would send another manuscript by separate mail, so please do read it.
This "Noise Notebook" was something I had neatly copied out in preparation for when manuscripts failed to arrive in time.

“Wasn’t the Asagaya area too badly burned? Self-catering life must not be easy for you either. Here too, I was gradually being treated as a burden by everyone and urged to remarry, but I couldn’t bring myself to do so—living on while shivering from hunger and cold. I wanted to leave this place and move somewhere more habitable, but they said trains wouldn’t be available for some time, and hearing such things left me utterly disheartened. Do you suppose there might be a place near Tokyo that would take me in for about three hundred yen a month? If you learn the lodging costs there, please let me know for reference. The other day, we held Hara Manufacturing’s dissolution ceremony—the merchants claimed one must now become either a farmer or black marketeer to survive, but what becomes of us if everyone turns to the black market? Those thriving here are indeed the black marketeers: ‘We’re running big operations,’ they boast. ‘After all, living expenses cost three thousand yen a month.’ Black markets bustle before Koi Station and Hiroshima Station—I sometimes go to observe them myself. With oranges now freely sold in any quantity, I’ve fully become a citrus devotee.”

With life growing more constrained, I found myself wondering whether to seek employment now to make ends meet or perhaps leave this place for a year to recuperate my energy. Yet nothing took concrete form, and the thought that this year too might end vainly in Yawata Village left me desolate.
Upon rereading Valéry’s Stendhal, I thought, “That’s right,” and felt compelled to regain my vigor.

I prayed for your good health.
May you welcome a good year.

December 28 – Tamiki Hara

Mr. Zenjiro Nagai

●February 5, 1946 – From Yawata Village to 6-93 Asagaya, Suginami Ward, Tokyo: Zenjiro Nagai

Thank you for your letter.
I had been neglecting to write, but since I went to Hongo the other day, I became aware of your situation.
It was regrettable that we couldn’t meet.
The other day I received *Kindai Bungaku*, and yesterday I duly received *Bungaku Jihyō*.
I felt strangely exhilarated to finally read something like a proper magazine after so long.
Though I had read the January issue of *Prospect* beforehand, *Kindai Bungaku* felt more familiar and vigorous as a coterie magazine, which I found reassuring.
I anticipated that your novel would require considerable mental strain and laborious effort as you determine how to develop it from here.
Please do your best to complete it.
Nagamitsu’s poetry is astonishing to me whether in terms of its rhythm or the development of its language.
I think the writer profiles are a rather well-conceived project.
Why not try continuing to feature about a hundred people?

“Humans should only engage in work made possible by waiting for other humans.”
“We must eliminate from human interactions the wasteful energy loss born of foolishness—like that seen in people boarding and alighting trains—(Art, History, Humanity).”
I, for one, keenly felt this lament.
Mr. Hanada was quite the talent.

I too had been thinking of leaving Yawata Village soon since New Year’s, and even considered staying at Shirotani’s house in Hiroshima to find temporary employment, but since Nagamitsu said there was a room available at his place where I could stay, I decided to head to Tokyo promptly.
However, there was currently a ban on moving into the six major cities—did that prohibit household relocations? What about cases of cohabitation or temporary lodging? Was there truly no way to obtain relocation permission? If you learned anything on your end, please let me know.
If relocation proved possible, I intended to come to Tokyo immediately and lodge temporarily at Nagamitsu’s place regardless.
In any case, should I reach Tokyo, I feared I would once again impose on you in various ways.

Over here, everyone is worrying about the property tax, and there are many people scrambling to buy up goods.
Miki and others are doing quite well thanks to all this.

I leave both manuscripts entirely to your discretion.
There are quite a few things I want to write about next, but I can hardly bring myself to sit at my desk.

Nagamitsu suggests titling my poetry collection "Sadae," but I am secretly considering a separate, modest book titled "Sadae."

I pray for your steadfast efforts.

February 5

●February 15, 1946 – From Yawata Village to 6-93 Asagaya, Suginami Ward, Tokyo: Zenjiro Nagai

I received your express mail. Regarding the manuscript matter, as I stated in my previous letter, I leave everything to your discretion. You may take them to *Shin Nihon Bungaku* if appropriate. If "Atomic Bomb" proves unacceptable as a title, perhaps something like "A Record" would suffice? Or if you have a more suitable title in mind, please assign it there.

Since Sueta says I may stay at his place, I'm considering moving there temporarily—though I'm currently inquiring whether residence transfer permission can be obtained. My brother advises coming to Tokyo with my own provisions, but whether bedding is available at Sueta's remains under investigation.

Since the express mail sent on the 2nd arrived today on the 15th, it seemed postal deliveries were still delayed as usual.

My elder brother was rushing about to build a barracks in the burned ruins. Speaking of the ruins, I had gone to dig up what we buried there last December, and it was heartening to find the peanuts still intact. I roasted and ate them, but didn't die from it.

I found myself constantly thinking about that thing called the subjunctive in English grammar. "If only we'd done such-and-such back then, things wouldn't have turned out this way—" lament those who lost their homes in the fires. The Subjunctive Past must be the mood that gives voice to these regrets.

I pray for your flourishing pen.

February 15 – Tamiki Hara

Mr. Zenjiro Nagai

●July 3, 1946 – From Sueta’s Residence, Magome East 2-899, Omori Ward to Nagai Zenjiro, Asagaya, Suginami Ward

Thank you for your help the other day.

Since this room was settled now, I felt like staying here just as I was.
Nagamitsu had sent poems.
He said he wanted them published somewhere.
Did you have any idea where?

Mita Bungaku Issue 10 was released.
I will have a copy sent.

I would like to meet you once before you leave for Shinano.
Should the mood strike you, please do drop by here as well.
July 3

●May 17, 1947 – From Sueta’s Residence, Magome East 2-899, Omori Ward to Zenjiro Nagai, Asagaya, Suginami Ward

The spousal literary theory proved intriguing.

What became of that room we discussed previously? When might it become vacant? Truth be told, I've now been ordered to vacate my current lodgings with utmost urgency and find myself quite distressed. Should your space become available, I've resolved to relocate immediately.
Miki had also been counting on that room—we'd discussed cooking meals together there.
"I did see it at 'Kōgen' Bookstore," I noted, "but they still haven't sent me a copy."
"Shiki" is reportedly being published in fine washi paper edition.

I might go to Kōjunsha on the 23rd.

●July 3, 1947 – From Hirata Residence, Uchikoshi 13, Nakano Ward, Tokyo to Zenjiro Nagai, Asagaya, Suginami Ward

Hideo Odagiri’s “Humanity and Literature”
That struck me as essentially being voices striving to prevent literature from growing lax.
In *Kindai Bungaku 6*, I found the roundtable discussion engaging—your novel this time was so tightly structured that I felt even just that section could stand alone as a short story.
Miki finally made it up to Tokyo.
They say they’ll soon erect barracks on Hiroshima’s ruins—I’m considering visiting there before year’s end.
I plan to leave school when this term finishes.
Could you look up this “kikeu” character they use in lung treatments? I can’t make sense of it.

The weather remains unsettled as ever.

●February 6, 1948 – From 3-6 Kanda Jimbocho, Tokyo to Zenjiro Nagai, Asagaya, Suginami Ward

How are you?

I was swamped with trivial tasks lately and couldn't find any peace.
I had to write novels too, but made hardly any progress.
Nagamitsu published a poetic critique in Koyomi-tei (3), which I found quite interesting.
How is *Prelude to Destruction* progressing?
This would be a good time to publish it properly, but could you retrieve it for me? Though if Shomori-sha has already started typesetting, there's nothing to be done—but please check.

●Around August 1948 – From Nohgaku Shorin, 1-3 Kanda Jimbocho, Tokyo to Zenjiro Nagai, Oiwake Yamaguchiya, Karuizawa Town, Nagano Prefecture

Thank you for the postcard.
Tokyo had been gripped by a severe heatwave for about a week now.
In my room, the tatami grew so hot I couldn't even take a nap.
I sometimes went to Miki's place in Asagaya to escape the heat.
Though I met with Mr. Mizuta once regarding the room matter, I still hadn't received a clear response.
I finished editing Mita Bungaku up to Issue 12.
For Issue 13 I planned to have Mr. Hirata contribute a commentary, but wondered if Mr. Nakada would write from Issue 14 onward.
Having heard of your illness, I wished to inquire.
When I learned Kōgen wanted a novel for their special issue, I sent Cloud's Rift to Mr. Kakegawa.

Tomorrow, Miki and I are supposed to go see *Rhapsody in Blue*.
The heat makes writing impossible.
I’m idling about, thinking it would trouble me if I pushed myself now only to grow frail by autumn.

●Around March 1950 – From Kawasaki’s Residence, 2406 Kichijoji, Musashino City to Zenjiro Nagai, Otsu Hall, Nishimachi, Otsu Town, Taga District, Ibaraki Prefecture

For a few days, the cold was so severe that I shivered violently, but today finally returned to spring-like weather.
When I walked around this area, with its many trees, I naturally sensed Musashino.
Shōhei Ōoka’s *Musashino Fūjin* seems poised to become a masterpiece.
Mr. Haniya also finished writing his manuscript for *Gunzo* yesterday.

I forcibly tried writing one girls' novel.

I was made one of Mita’s Three Eccentrics—the other two were said to be Shuzo Katayama and Mr. Onoda, editor-in-chief of Kaizosha.