Pathway to Japanese Literature

Keiko Mizusawa possessed a graceful appearance, a refined demeanor, and a keen intellect, and was held in high regard by many. Having lost her husband, a Navy captain, in the war, she had subsequently received several offers of remarriage but turned a deaf ear to them all, maintaining her widow’s life without compromise. A student lodger; one senior maid; one junior maid—such was the household, yet she also took in a middle school student from a distant relative. Her reputation in the neighborhood was also impeccable.

However, lately, rumors exchanged in hushed tones began to spread among her acquaintances. It was said that Keiko had a lover. “Oh, that person.”

“That’s right.” “Is it really true?”

“It does seem to be true, after all.” “But they still can’t determine who this man is at all—which makes the whole thing rather odd, I hear.”

Even when scrutinizing the men within Keiko’s social circle, they could find no leads, and the source of the rumors remained unclear. As this continued, even the veracity of the rumors themselves came under suspicion. As time passed, the rumors took on a different form. It was said that Keiko was likely pregnant.

“My, they’re getting quite specific now, aren’t they?”

“That’s right.” “But apparently, they still don’t know who the man in question is.” “Ohoho, a regular Virgin Mary…” “Though of course, she’s no virgin to begin with.” “If Lord Christ were to be born now, it would cause quite the uproar, wouldn’t it?” “Well, who can say? She might have it taken care of before it’s born.”

“Is such a thing really possible to do so easily?”

“Eventually, it will be something like hospitalization or travel, I suppose.” Yet there was not the slightest alteration in Keiko’s daily life. No hospitalization or travel occurred; no trace of haggardness showed on her face as she maintained her usual social engagements—theater visits, cinema outings, tea gatherings. Even when acquaintances cast curious glances at her abdomen, she appeared utterly unperturbed. Among close friends, while the rumors had remained confined to talk of a lover, matters were tolerable enough—but once they escalated to pregnancy, even they hesitated to confront her directly about such things, she being a widow after all. Though the rumors’ progression from lover to pregnancy had unfolded with implausible swiftness, those who moved merely in her social circles could hardly be expected to note such inconsistencies; besides, it was entirely possible for both developments to have transpired simultaneously.

Keiko Mizusawa’s abdomen showed no sign of swelling. Yet, as autumn deepened, she seemed to have gained some weight. And she increasingly toyed with cigarettes. Moreover, she had never been much of a smoker to begin with, and even now only occasionally took shallow puffs.

“I seem to have gained some weight, and I simply can’t stand it,” she said. “On the contrary, that’s hardly something to celebrate. If anything, you’re on the slimmer side, you know.” “That may be so, but when I think that if I were to become all bloated… it becomes unbearable. At my age, it would still be rather pathetic, don’t you think?”

“No, you haven’t gained nearly enough to warrant such concern. When you say such things, it sounds like a sarcastic remark aimed at someone like me.”

"But I'm a single woman, you see. Staying slim is preferable. That's why I've taken up smoking like this. They say cigarettes keep weight off, you know." She laughed brightly.

Such things seemed to have absolutely no connection to her abdomen. Because her abdomen showed no sign of swelling no matter how long they waited, her acquaintances found themselves somewhat disappointed.

Even among acquaintances, given that she was thirty-five and her social engagements were what they were, there were a considerable number of men in her circle. And among these men, the secret rumors about her left a worse impression than they did among the women. “What that person does—whether she takes a lover or not—is none of our business.”

That was the initial opinion. Keiko was beautiful, she was a widow—not someone one could pass over with indifference. Yet as long as it remained unclear who this lover was or where he came from, the rumor served only to lend her a certain allure. If the lover’s identity had been clearly known, the circumstances would naturally have been different. However, when the rumors suddenly shifted to pregnancy, they now carried a distinct undercurrent of disgust. Far from lending her an air of allure, it now took on a sordid quality. And once it came to this, men were merciless. Even the fact that her abdomen showed no swelling came to be interpreted with irony.

“Truly, one can never let their guard down around women.” “They take lovers in secret, get pregnant in secret, settle matters in secret… In other words, women have the ability to conduct everything covertly.” “Compared to that, men are just like babies.” “No matter how hard they try to keep things under wraps, they immediately give themselves away.”

“But you—saying they get pregnant in secret—that’s going a bit too far.” “Hahaha—or should I correct it to ‘without men knowing’?”

And thus it was dismissed with another laugh. The truth of the rumors was not the issue. Contempt and indifference were separated by but a paper-thin line.

It was exactly around that time.

Keiko Mizusawa was slightly troubled in thought. There were times when, gripped by a gloom she herself couldn’t fathom, she would sit blankly for an hour or even two. Nevertheless, she responded to all visitors cheerfully. It was simply her nature.

On the evening Masami Asano came, Keiko Mizusawa had him shown to the parlor. Since he was the man who tutored Tetsuo, a middle school student, about twice a week, and as Tetsuo was lying in bed with cold symptoms, she could have simply sent him home; however, there was something weighing on her mind. She checked on Tetsuo’s condition, then went to the parlor.

Asano stood rigidly, gazing at the landscape depicted in the Western-style painting hanging on the wall. He bowed hurriedly and remained standing.

“Please.”

Mieko pointed to the small table by the window and seated herself on the sofa to the side. “Tetsuo-kun, how are you feeling?”

“He’s developed a slight cold, but I believe he should recover if he stays in bed for a day or two.” “I apologize for not having found time to inform you sooner.” “No need—it doesn’t trouble me… Please rest well.” Asano appeared torn between lingering a little longer and making an immediate departure. A faint smile surfaced on Mieko’s cheeks. She propped one elbow on the table, idly fingering a cigarette as she studied Asano.

Asano had always maintained a timid, self-deprecating demeanor toward her—or rather, an attitude as if to avoid her entirely. Even when invited to the tearoom with offers of sushi after Tetsuo finished his studies, he would invent some pretext and promptly take his leave. Even so, they were old acquaintances. Mieko's late husband had looked after him quite diligently—his graduation from technical school owed much to this patronage. Afterward he had continued visiting all this time. That Asano became Tetsuo’s tutor was also due to Mieko’s goodwill, and he received considerable remuneration. Yet he seemed somehow hesitant to grow closer to Mieko.

And yet on the other hand, he spoke unreservedly to Mieko. He would say anything boldly and frankly. Just the other day, when they were alone, he had said to her.

“Madam, please pull yourself together.” “I’ve heard some rather unpleasant rumors circulating.” “Of course I don’t believe them.” “I… I would do anything for you.”

She tried to ask back, but Tetsuo arrived there, and he hurriedly took his leave. The men Keiko knew almost without exception adopted an overly familiar attitude toward her while using roundabout, ambiguous language on the other hand. In contrast, Asano was the exact opposite.

His hair was stiff and disheveled, but his narrow face—unadorned by glasses—was pale and even appeared refined.

“Mr. Asano,” Keiko called out. “There’s something I’d like to ask you.” When Asano looked up in surprise, Mieko smiled faintly. “Regarding Tetsuo—it seems he isn’t applying himself to his studies as he should. What do you make of it?” “Generally speaking, middle school students these days do seem to be getting rather cheeky, though.” Her tone suggested she wasn’t fully engaged. To the black tea the maid had brought, she added whiskey for him, then a dash to her own cup. She tasted it with a spoon, added another splash, and sampled it again spoonful by spoonful. Like a child playfully savoring treats, her silver spoon and small nails glinted in the light.

“If it’s about Tetsuo, there’s no need for concern.” “He’s bright and diligent, isn’t he?” “If there’s anything you’re concerned about, shall I ask the homeroom teacher at that school?”

The school where Asano worked was different from the one Tetsuo attended.

“If you deem it so, then that is quite sufficient.” “Since I cannot take sufficient care of him myself, I thought I should ask…” “After all, he’s a child entrusted to me from the countryside…” “However, he has grown quite attached to you, and you dote on him very much—that alone is already more than enough.”

Mieko smiled fleetingly with her eyes. Her irises were black yet carried a bluish cast.

“But if strange rumors were to spread about me, that would not do, would it?”

As Asano hesitated over his reply, Mieko smiled with her eyes again.

“You mentioned the other day that strange rumors were spreading about me. What kind of rumors might they be?” “Then, you don’t know anything at all?”

“No.”

This time, she was truly smiling with her cheeks.

“Of course, it’s absurd. You’ve gotten a lover or something….” Asano’s face flushed crimson.

“Well, it’s just that sort of thing.” “And then…”

Asano looked down and remained silent. “That’s all there is to rumors.” “Yes.” Asano answered.

“Such trivial rumors，aren’t they? And where did you hear about that?”

“At Ms. Tachibana’s residence. “Ever since you introduced me, I’ve been going once a week to tutor their child as well. “There seemed to be some sort of celebration underway, with many guests present—I was rather unceremoniously pulled into joining them. That’s when I overheard that rumor being whispered between two ladies out on the veranda. “Though your name wasn’t mentioned directly, it could only have been about you.”

“I see.” “In that case, the rumors wouldn’t have stopped at just that, would they?”

Asano frowned.

“Actually, there’s something even worse. “...something about you being with child.” Mieko nodded with a bright smile. “If anything, it’s rather auspicious news, isn’t it? “A lover appearing out of nowhere, a baby on the way… *giggles*.”

With a smirk, she stood up, pressed the call button by the door, and ordered the maid to bring black tea. When the black tea and apples arrived, she again added whiskey to the black tea and began savoring it spoonful by spoonful, but suddenly stopped her hand. “Ah, perhaps that person would be better. It won’t be long, so please wait.” When she left and he was alone, Asano bowed his head over the table and covered his forehead with both palms.

The only sound was that of insects outside; a profound stillness filled the air.

On the silver tray were two Gin Fizz glasses and a small plate of cheese. Mieko pushed that in front of Asano.

“It’s meant as thanks. After all, you’re the only one who’s told me so frankly about those rumors.”

Asano raised his face. “Madam, please don’t misunderstand. “I don’t believe any of that at all. “That’s why I could say it exactly as it was. “It’s just that I’m angry. “For a long time—even now—I have been deeply indebted to your household. “And it’s heartbreaking to hear things that tarnish your honor. “I’m angry.” “Then what would you have us do?”

Her figure, smiling gently with cheeks slightly flushed, appeared dazzling to Asano.

“I don’t understand anything. “I don’t understand anything about the ways of your society. “People start such rumors, others gleefully spread them around, and you just sit there laughing as you listen… I’ve become completely unable to understand any of it. “And I’m sad.”

He drained the Gin Fizz glass in one gulp. Mieko gazed absently into space for a moment, stood up, took two or three steps, and picked up the now-unused sandalwood fan left forgotten among the jars and vases on the mantelpiece. She spoke while gazing at it vacantly.

“Well then, shall I let you in on the secret?” “That rumor—I asked Auntie Tachibana to spread it for me.” “You’re lying. Don’t you dare try to deceive me!” Asano exclaimed indignantly. “This is your people’s worst habit. Fundamentally, all of you have too many chinks in your armor. That’s why trifles get blown out of proportion while what truly matters gets trivialized.” “I’ve always thought you’d do well to work a bit more—clean rooms, scrub floors, weed gardens, do needlework—anything at all. I don’t mind your wealth or your wearing fine silks as everyday clothes. Just work more. Stop burning midnight oil and rise early instead.” “Someone like me—you couldn’t possibly fathom how much I labor. Poor as I am, homeless too—my wife rusticating in the countryside—of course I must work. But I know work’s true joy—it sustains me.” “If you could grasp even a shred of that joy through labor, you’d become someone truly remarkable.”

“Oh, but I’m quite busy myself, you know.” “I have to give various orders to the maids, and even though Sugiyama, our student lodger, is here, he goes to the law office in the afternoon—so I must handle household matters in the morning. Just giving instructions alone is quite a task, you know.”

“That’s exactly the problem—the instructions.” “Aren’t you always just giving instructions?” “Wouldn’t you consider doing even one or two trivial things yourself?” “Not socializing—something else entirely.” “Planting flowers or watering them—even such things would be acceptable…” “Even running around barefoot…”

Mieko began to say something but closed her mouth.

Asano was crying. Unable to stop the tears spilling from his eyelids, he covered his face with a handkerchief.

Mieko gave a slight twitch of her shoulders. She looked up and sank into thought.

After a moment, she walked over to Asano, sat down on the sofa, and said gently. “What you are saying—I understand it perfectly well. “But there are things that just can’t be helped, you know.” Asano still had not raised his face.

“Even so, that was quite a bold thing to say. So I too have a bold request to make. Will you listen?”

Asano blew his nose and raised his eyes. Before him, Keiko thrust out the remaining glass of Gin Fizz. “After you drink this…” Asano, with a bewildered expression, did exactly as told.

“I want to slap a man’s cheek—just once—as hard as I can.” “Let me slap your cheek.” “In return, I’ll let you slap mine.” Her voice quivered faintly. Asano answered almost unconsciously.

“Go ahead.”

He closed his eyes and offered his cheek. After a moment’s hesitation, Mieko slapped Asano’s cheek sharply with her open hand. A sound like thin glass rang out.

“Thank you.” His voice sounded as though he were crying. “Now it’s my turn. Please.”

She closed her eyes. Her neatly defined slender eyebrows, slightly swollen eyelids, and long eyelashes fluttered faintly. “Go ahead,” she urged. Asano quietly knelt down and buried his face in her lap. A faint fragrance seeped not into the nose but into the heart.

“I can’t do it.” He sobbed. “I can’t. Please forgive me.” Mieko, still with her eyes closed, extended both hands and gently stroked his stiff hair. “Madam, please forgive me. I have cherished you with all my heart.”

Mieko’s still body took one deep breath and leaned back against the chair back. Asano raised his upper body and tried to lean toward her chest, toward her lips. Mieko blocked him with her hand and shook her head. “Not now.” She whispered in his ear. “From now on, I will begin studying English, so please look after me. I’ve made the study into something like my living room. From now on, over there…”

She stood up as if slipping through, glided toward the door, and pressed the call button.

With November’s arrival, tea parties were held here and there under the pretext of chrysanthemum viewing. Before the war, there had been chrysanthemum-viewing banquets at Shinjuku Gyoen; these were modeled after those. However, these days, what they called chrysanthemum viewing was merely in name; there weren’t all that many pots of chrysanthemums to begin with. It was essentially a tea gathering where the food amounted to little more than sandwiches and coffee—though sometimes they would have oden or sushi stalls as light entertainment—but in truth, it was nothing more than a social function.

The Itakura residence also held such an event. It was a windless, fine day, perfectly suited for basking in the sun in the spacious garden while engaging in lively chatter. Chrysanthemum pots were sparsely arranged, and small tables and benches were placed here and there. Red and white curtains were hung around the veranda, and following these, Japanese and Western liquor bottles were lined up at the stalls. However, the quaint touch lay in the fact that these alcoholic beverages came at a charge.

At a small table in the corner of the spacious garden, arranged as if to avoid others, Tsuneko Tachibana and Keiko Mizusawa sat facing each other, drinking coffee. Tsuneko was already nearing fifty, her plump physique exuding an air of dignity. “Say, Auntie...” Mieko spoke in a coaxing tone. “Just as I said, wasn’t it?” “That’s true.” “But perhaps the medicine was a bit too effective.”

“The pregnancy.”

“Yes.” “A lover is one thing—but pregnancy makes for rather awkward talk.” “It took considerable effort on my part.”

“But Auntie, you’re quite skilled at spreading rumors.”

“Oh, what are you saying? After you begged me so much.”

Tsuneko made a show of glaring. "I've come to understand for the first time." "How detestable pregnancy is to people..." "That goes doubly for gentlemen," she added pointedly.

“When I think about it, it really is an unpleasant thing, isn’t it? My belly swelling up, my backside protruding… I’m profoundly grateful I never became pregnant during my marriage.”

“It’s only because it’s now that you can say such things.” “Someone like me has given birth to three children, you know.” “That must be a thing of the past.” “Isn’t that only natural?” “If it were back then, I wouldn’t have minded.” “Even I would be unbothered if it were in the past.” “Now, when I think of… with this body, it makes me shudder.” “Ah, wait.” Tsuneko touched Mieko’s arm. When she looked in the direction indicated, Hoshiyama—with his hulking frame and loose-fitting clothes—was walking away over there.

“It seems he noticed us and turned back.” Keiko shrugged her shoulders and laughed. “So, Auntie, the pregnancy’s effect was immediate, wasn’t it?”

Tsuneko stared fixedly at Keiko’s face. “Just why on earth do you dislike Mr. Hoshiyama so much? You even spread dangerous rumors… You didn’t have to go that far.” “I despise him from the bottom of my heart. I couldn’t bear it any longer. It’s not about this regarding his business or that regarding his demeanor. I detest his approach—not addressing me directly but using Mrs. Kanno as an intermediary to sweet-talk and pester me with advances—but putting that aside, what I truly can’t stand is that ring of his.”

“The ring…” “A thick gold ring with intricate carvings—the one he always wears.” “Ah, that thing? It’s nothing special.” “Well then, Auntie, you should take it.” “If it’s for you, he’d surely give it.” “True enough. Perhaps I should take it, hohoho.” “I suppose you might call that sort of thing American taste?” “Well, who can say?” “Rather than that, you might as well call it Japanese taste from a bygone era—that would be more fitting.”

“Anyway, it’s hardly *à la mode*.” “That sort of thing would be considered *toujours de mode* in any era.” “That gentleman himself is just the same.” “What’s with all this ‘all-something’ nonsense…?”

Keiko’s mind was no longer there; remembering something, she giggled. “You know, Auntie, I’ve started studying English. I’d completely forgotten about it, so even I was surprised.” “You should try everything while you’re young. The teacher…”

“It’s not going very well, though…” “Who is it? Is he a foreign gentleman?” “Since he isn’t very skilled, he’s obviously Japanese.” “Um… Mr. Asano.” “Ah, I see.”

While replying nonchalantly, Tsuneko intently observed Keiko’s demeanor. Keiko diverted the conversation. “And then, Auntie, how are things with the stocks…?” “Ah, I’d forgotten.” “It’s fine—you can rest assured.” “Earlier, I ran into Mrs. Takagi—you know, the wife of that gentleman from the Prime Minister’s Office—and when I casually probed, it seems the ship-related stocks show great promise.” “You’re still recklessly overextending yourself, but I suppose for now you’re managing to hold on.” “Since there’s hope, you shouldn’t let go, I suppose.”

“What will you do, Auntie?”

“I’ll wait for the right time as well.” “Then there’s someone I’d like to introduce you to—shall we go over there?”

Tsuneko started to stand up, then suddenly grabbed Keiko’s hand. “By the way, is it acceptable to leave that matter as it is?” “That matter…” “What’s this? You’re blushing…” Tsuneko smiled coyly. “Is it acceptable to leave the rumors hanging like this? Of course, since there’s absolutely no basis for who this supposed partner could be—and you’re out here in public acting unbothered—the rumors will likely die down soon. But still, given the nature of the issue…”

“But it’s not as though we can retract it now, is it?”

“So, I thought I might have to intervene again…” Mieko lowered her eyes to her feet. “Leave it be, I think it’s fine.” “I’ve had my fill of these rumors.” “Besides, I’ve already prepared myself for this outcome.”

Tsuneko still seemed uneasy and peered into Mieko’s face. Then, as if to change the mood, she stood up. “Please don’t make me worry so much.”

The two began walking in silence.

On the day the tea party was held at the Itakura residence—and in broad daylight, no less—a strange incident occurred.

The Itakura residence occupied extensive grounds surrounded by concrete walls. If one walked beyond those walls for a short distance, the left side dropped away into a low cliff roughly five meters high, at whose base sat a small mud pond. The area below the cliff lay entirely within war-scorched ruins—only scattered small houses stood here and there amidst weed-choked wastelands that mingled with vegetable plots. Though fed by a spring, the pond had grown murky red; even children no longer played there now, its surface abandoned to floating wood fragments left to rot. On the cliff overlooking this stagnant water stood several spindly pine trees.

At that clump of pine trees, two men suddenly began to grapple. Both wore Western-style suits and were quite well-dressed. One was a portly man in his fifties, the other a lean youth still in his twenties. The older man had been sauntering along when the younger one gave chase, uttered some terse words, and abruptly landed a punch—or so it seemed. After wrestling briefly, the elder—whether shoved or having slipped—went tumbling down the cliff like a child and plunged into the mud pond. The younger man stood gazing down from above for several moments before retrieving his hat and hurrying off.

The scene was witnessed by no more than two or three passersby. It all happened so quickly that they couldn’t make sense of what had happened. When they rushed over, the man was sitting in the middle of the pond, staring vacantly. He then clambered out. The onlookers descended along the path and helped him up to the cliff top. He didn’t appear to have any serious injuries. “Is there a car around here?”

In a startlingly vigorous and arrogant tone, he asked. Upon hearing there was likely no car to be found nearby, he appeared to consider this briefly, but then—forgetting his hat and still drenched in muddy water—strode off briskly toward the Itakura residence and slipped through its back door.

The onlookers stood dumbfounded.

That man was Koji Hoshiyama. Koji Hoshiyama entered the Itakura residence through the back door, called for the manservant, and—citing the ongoing tea party—requested discretion. He phoned his distant home to arrange for a change of clothes and a car to pick him up, then borrowed the manservant’s room to wash his body. He had only abrasions on his forehead and arm. He was still quite drunk. “Because I was drunk, even though I fell off the cliff, I got away without any injuries, ha ha ha.” He laughed with apparent nonchalance.

That was all there was to it, but the secret did not hold. The Itakura household members soon found out. There were also those who had witnessed the struggle. However, when speaking to the police officer who came to investigate, Mr. Hoshiyama dismissed it as trivial. He admitted he had indeed been attacked but insisted it was by an acquaintance—not a thief—and requested the matter be kept under wraps. The incident was tentatively settled.

That story reached Tsuneko Tachibana’s ears by the following evening. Because she had left the tea party early, she hadn’t been aware of it at the time. Something had occurred to her, so she phoned the Itakura residence and further verified the details. After finishing dinner while deep in thought but still unable to settle her mind, she drove over to visit Keiko Mizusawa.

Until Mieko came out, Tsuneko paced around the parlor. She grabbed Mieko’s arm while still standing. “Oh, you know about it?” “What’s the matter, Auntie?”

Mieko greeted her cheerfully and ushered her to the sofa in the corner. Tsuneko suddenly felt disheartened and gazed intently at Mieko’s face. After much hesitation, she finally spoke out. “Yesterday—on the day of Mr. Itakura’s tea party—did you know that Mr. Hoshiyama was attacked by someone on his way there?” “Oh—that matter—Auntie? I am aware of it.” “In that case—you could have at least called me.”

“But it’s such a trivial matter.”

“No, what I mean isn’t about Mr. Hoshiyama himself,” she said. “What’s been nagging at me is who attacked him and why—that’s why I came all this way. We do have certain… connections with Mr. Hoshiyama, don’t we? So if there turns out to be some link between us and the attacker, what then? This won’t stay confined to whispers this time. They say the police have already started making inquiries.”

“You’re troubling yourself over such matters, Auntie.” “Then let me show you something, Auntie.” Mieko stood up and left, soon returning with an envelope.

The envelope bore only the inscription: “Madam Keiko Mizusawa – Confidential: Personal.” “It was in my mailbox this afternoon.” “It is believed that the person himself threw it in.”

Tsuneko opened the envelope. On crude paper, neat delicate characters stood in orderly rows.

I have had to bid you farewell. I will withdraw to the countryside. By my love for you, I beg your forgiveness in all matters.

After hearing the detailed account, I came to hate H. The fact that I had known H from before regarding the school building expansion only deepened my hatred all the more. You dismissed it with a laugh, but through rumors and Mrs. S’s mediation, the one who truly smeared mud on your public face was none other than H. Where did your true intent lie when you struck my cheek? I understand it as an opportunity for your own self-liberation. However, it was not only that; revenge against H—and by extension, against men in general—must have also been intertwined.

I knew that you would be attending the Itakura family’s chrysanthemum-viewing party. That was nothing of consequence. However, when I happened to learn H would also be going, I became indignant. The mere presence of H near you defiles you. Nor do I deny that I harbored feelings of jealousy and resentment.

I wandered almost unconsciously near the Itakura residence. I grew irritated with myself for not being able to go inside. At that moment, I saw H emerging from the Itakura residence. The unsteady gait of him, who seemed drunk, only further enraged me.

I chased after him, stopped him at the cliff edge—then imprudently blurted out your name and struck his cheek. Blurting out your name was entirely reckless, yet I remained composed. There was also a sense that I was exacting revenge on your behalf. He resisted me, and it turned into a grapple. For an instant, murderous intent kindled within me. This is a grave matter. However, fortunately, he fell from the cliff and sank into the muddy swamp below. Had he not been drunk—given that he is a large, corpulent man of formidable strength—I would have been the one strangled to death or cast into the muddy swamp.

H knows me. It concerns the school building expansion. As for H, he will not leave me be as I am now. He will undoubtedly carry out some underhanded retaliation. Should that occur, your esteemed name may naturally come to light. I fear nothing more than bringing trouble upon you. I have received boundless kindness from your household. Yet by what means have I ever repaid you? I even contemplated suicide. However, that might only lead to graver consequences.

I was perpetually tormented by profound terror, sorrow, and exultation. I feared this love that strayed from its proper path. When considering my station, social standing, and circumstances, I lamented that we would ultimately have to part ways. Yet rising above all these, to immerse myself in your affection was celestial bliss. How I must have sobbed and wailed alone in the depths of night.

However, everything has already come to an end. Reality is cruel. I shall withdraw myself. For those who love, their beloved must be sacred and immaculate. To me, you are sacred and immaculate. If that—for my sake—were to bear even a single stain, I would not be able to endure it. Would you deign to believe that the sacred and immaculate you will remain eternally in the depths of my heart? I am now filled with gratitude and love for you. At the same time, I am filled with hatred for what is called society.

I intend to return to my hometown and confess everything to my wife. My wife will probably understand. Tomorrow morning, I will submit my resignation to the school. And then, I will deliver this letter to your residence’s mailbox. I do not have the courage to meet you. Please convey my regards to Mrs. T.

The letter was signed simply as M.A.

Tsuneko heaved a heavy sigh.

“Hey, Auntie, it seems almost like a legal or philosophical text, doesn’t it?”

Tsuneko sprang up and seized Keiko’s hand.

“Is this true?” “Well, since it was written by the person himself, probably…” “You—this is no joke! How can you stay so composed?!” “But there’s simply no other way. And besides, it’s already over and done with.” “It’s only been since yesterday, you know. If by some mistake it gets written up in the newspapers, what will you do? If something unexpected happens, I could arrange to have it covered up, but…”

“It’s alright, Auntie.” “It’s all been settled between yesterday and today, you see.” “And soon, it will be tomorrow.” “Tomorrow… do you intend to start something again?” “No.” Keiko smiled faintly. “I won’t trouble you with any more worries, Auntie.” “Oh, I just don’t understand anymore…” “I’ll think about it more carefully.” “You should think about it too.” “Please come to my house tomorrow, okay?” “I will come, Auntie, but truly, it’s alright.”

Tsuneko still seemed restless for some reason. She pushed the letter left on the desk into Keiko’s bosom, took a sip of the cold black tea, and stood up immediately.

A car was waiting outside. “Good day.”

After seeing off the car, Keiko entered the house with an ironic smile playing on her lips. Following that, the maid closed the front door.