Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

When it comes to Kasumigaura Lake, I’m sure you all are familiar with it.
Located in the southern part of Ibaraki Prefecture, it is a lake with a circumference of approximately 144 kilometers and ranks as the second largest in Japan.

Lake Biwa in Ōmi, Japan’s largest lake, is almost entirely surrounded by mountains, but Kasumigaura Lake lies in the heart of the Kantō Plain, where the only true mountain is Mount Tsukuba in the distant north—about seven or eight *ri* (approximately 28–31 kilometers) away—displaying its purple hue, while everywhere else one looks, there are only gently sloping hills faintly tinged with pale purple.

Therefore, while the scenery of this lake could be called ordinary at first glance, it differed from Lake Biwa—where summer storm clouds that brewed over surrounding mountains or winter’s silver snow that glistened transformed into somewhat awe-inspiring vistas—as it remained enveloped in a sense of tranquility throughout all four seasons.
If Lake Biwa were a strict father, then Kasumigaura Lake could be said to resemble a kind mother.
Around this lake, besides towns such as Tsuchiura, Ishioka, Itako, and Edosaki, there were numerous farming villages lining its shores every few kilometers.
In ancient times, humans first settled along calm seashores, riverbanks, and lakesides, so of course people had inhabited the shores of this motherly gentle Kasumigaura Lake since even more remote antiquity.
Even now, this becomes clear from how shell mounds were excavated here and there, and arrowhead stones and various stone tools were discovered.

Therefore, even among the farming villages, there were those with quite ancient histories, and farmhouses that had continued for who knows how many dozens of generations remained scattered here and there.

Rintaro’s village was also one of these villages with ancient histories. Located on a hill along the southern shore of the lake, it had about fifty households. Furthermore, Rintaro’s house was an old family home that had continued for who knows how many dozens of generations, situated at the northernmost edge of the village, overlooking Kasumigaura Lake and crowned with a large thatched roof.

However, this “old family home” was now just a name in vain: the large cedar grove surrounding the estate had been cleared away, the rice storehouse torn down, leaving only a stable without horses and a barn with its roof thickly overgrown with weeds—they had become impoverished farmers. While other villagers in the same village grew poorer year after year, Rintaro’s household—being the oldest family in the village, having once served as its “village headman” and until about ten years ago served as “village representative”—found their poverty standing out all the more starkly.

Rintaro’s grandfather was constantly troubled by this,

“If only we had more children to make things lively—but with just Rintaro alone, the house only sinks deeper into gloom.”

he would say.
Rintaro was eleven that year, a fifth-grader in elementary school, but with neither brothers nor sisters, he remained truly an only child.
With only his father, mother, and grandfather left, the vast empty house felt so desolate that you could scarcely tell where anyone was amid its shadows.

II

Now, while only children often grow up to be spoiled brats, Rintaro had instead developed into a weak-willed crybaby.
Father often said this was because Grandfather had spoiled him too much, but it might not have been solely that—perhaps it was also due to having been raised in such a gloomy household.
In any case, Rintaro would immediately start sniveling and crying over the slightest thing.

Another problem was that Rintaro had an unusually large head relative to his body, which led the mean-spirited village children to give him the nickname “Gorokko.”
“Gorokko” meant “tadpole”—referring to those big-headed little creatures with oversized heads.
Whenever something happened, the village children would:
“Hey, Gorokko!”
they would jeer at him with that nickname.
Then Rintaro would immediately form a pout and burst into frustrated tears.

“A child with a big head will become a great person.”
“There’s no need to cry.”

When Grandfather saw Rintaro returning home crying, he would say that and pat his head.
Also, Mother would stroke his head with her palm each night as she held him to sleep,

“You do well in school, so everyone’s jealous and says such mean things.”
“A child’s head being big is actually a good thing.”
“Everyone else’s heads are too small.”

she would gently explain and persuade him.

In reality, Rintaro’s school grades were excellent—he had never fallen below third place. However, because his head was heavy, he was poor at athletics and always came in dead last during races. Father would often say:

“Forget grades—be first in races! If you stay Gorokko forever, you’ll never make it as a farmer.”

When told this, Rintaro would start crying tearfully again. Then Father would yell:

“There you go crying again.”
“I’ll give you away to some beggar’s kid!”

he shouted.

While Grandfather and Mother praised his large head, Father alone would always speak in such a manner and treat him harshly, so Rintaro feared his father and never grew attached to him.
Since gaining awareness of his surroundings, there had never been a single instance of Father carrying him piggyback, holding him in his arms, or sleeping together at night.

Moreover, there was a reason Rintaro simply couldn’t grow close to Father.
It was that Father would sometimes return home late at night, drunk to the point of his very face changing, and spend the whole night tormenting Mother until she cried.
Because Rintaro was scared, he pulled his head into the futon and curled up like a baby turtle, yet even so, Father’s rough voice still reached him.

Since even Father’s usual voice was frightening, the rough voice he produced when drunk had something akin to a terrifying animal’s howl. To Rintaro, that was unbearably, unbearably hateful. Moreover, he tormented Mother without any reason, so it was unbearable. However, there were times when Father, in that rough voice of his, would say things like, “What should we do with Rintaro?” or “Do this.” When Rintaro heard that from under the futon, a shiver ran through his entire body. It was because he had conclusively decided by himself that they were talking about his own head after all. In other words, he had come to think that his being as big-headed as a Gorokko was what caused the arguments between Father and Mother.

Rintaro was utterly overwhelmed by this and could only sit alone cradling his head in a pout.
And in his little chest, he could only keep saying, *I’m sorry, Mother*.

III

It was a night in early summer, around the time when the rice planting had been completed.
Rintaro was taken by Okinu Nee-chan, the girl from the house next door to the right, to catch fireflies along the lakeshore.

From Rintaro’s perspective, Okinu Nee-chan was already a girl old enough to become a bride, so he called her “Nee-chan” over and over.
Since Okinu Nee-chan also doted on Rintaro like a younger brother, he felt that she was the only one he could confide in about things he couldn’t even tell Mother.

Rintaro, holding Okinu Nee-chan’s hand, walked along the rice field path toward the lake.
The moon was out, but wrapped in mist, it appeared only faintly white.
As they walked on, the mist gradually grew thicker.
And when they reached the embankment on the lake’s shore, the water’s surface lay hazily blurred as though dreaming.
The name "Kasumigaura Lake" must have come from such a scene as this.
Truly, there was no nature as calm and gentle as Kasumigaura Lake, wrapped entirely in mist.

Rintaro felt a pang of melancholy.
Whether it was because he stood enveloped in dreamlike mist or because Okinu Nee-chan was leading him by the hand—he couldn’t tell which—but somehow he found himself wanting to cry alone.
In the pale yellowish mist, fireflies trailed faint bluish trails of light as they dipped and rose, yet Rintaro made no move to catch them.
Not only that—even their blue glow struck his eyes as sorrowful.

“Rintaro-chan, what’s wrong?”

Okinu Nee-chan peered suddenly into Rintaro's face and said,

“........”

Rintaro didn’t answer and looked down.

“Walking around here’s no fun for you.”
“Should we go back then?”

“...N-no... Don’t wanna go back.”

Rintaro finally replied in a stuffy nasal voice.

“Then buck up and catch fireflies.”
“See? They’re gliding smooth right over there.”

“Nee-chan... I... I want to die.”

“What’s that?”

“I want to die.”

“Rintaro-chan, what are you talking about? You’re dreaming!”

“But I’ve got a big head, right? That’s why everyone laughs. That’s why Father torments Mother too…”

Rintaro said this, his small face beneath his large forehead looking as though he had completely given up hope. The sight had become somewhat amusing to Okinu Nee-chan, so,

“You’re such a silly one, Rintaro-chan.”

With that，she put her arm around Rintaro’s shoulder．Then，Rintaro pressed his large forehead against Okinu Nee-chan’s body and choked out，＂Ugh… ugh…，＂ while—

“Father isn’t my real father, right?
“That’s right.”
“So he hates my Gorokko head—that’s why he torments Mother like that.”
“That’s why I want to die.”

he said this.

Rintaro’s father had come home drunk again last night and tormented Mother while telling Rintaro to get out of the house.
That scene now floated vividly in Rintaro’s head.
This left even Okinu Nee-chan at a loss,

“Your Father is your real father.”
“It’s Mother who’s different.”
“Just because you have a big head doesn’t mean Father would torment Mother over it.”

Okinu Nee-chan explained to him.

Then this shocked Rintaro all over again.
Rintaro glared at Okinu Nee-chan with a terrifying face and suddenly shouted in a loud voice,

“That’s not true! That’s not true! She’s my real mom!” he shouted.

At this, even Okinu Nee-chan gasped in surprise.
Having realized she had said something wrong,

“No! It’s a lie—a lie!”
“That isn’t true.”
“Really—it isn’t true at all.”

and emphatically denied,

“So all that talk about step-parents is just lies.”
“Both Father and Mother are your real parents.”
“So there’s no reason Father would torment Mother over your big head.”
“It’s just that every household has all sorts of worries.”
“So Father and Mother might argue, but a child should just pretend not to know about such things.”

she earnestly explained to him.

Rintaro neither got angry this time nor began to cry; he simply fell completely silent.
For Rintaro, it had become impossible to tell whether what he himself thought was true or whether what Okinu Nee-chan had said was true.

Four

Then came a morning three days later.

After Father had gone out to work in the fields and Grandfather had left for the lakeshore to fish for "nokkomi buna," Mother changed into her good kimono alone and took a single wrapping cloth bundle,

“Rintaro, I’m going to the other house, so wait here quietly,” she said while looking down.

The “other house” meant Mother’s family home. From the hill behind Rintaro’s house, when one looked northward, Lake Kasumigaura formed an inlet, and beyond it lay a village where Mother’s family home stood—hence why they called it “the other house.”

Until now, Mother had always taken Rintaro with her when returning to “the other house.” Yet today of all days, when she said such a thing, Rintaro’s complexion visibly changed.

“I’m going too! I’m going too!”
Rintaro clung to Mother’s hand and said this.
“I can’t take you today.”

Mother turned away and said.

“Why? Why can’t I?”

“Because Father will scold me.”

With that, Mother suddenly descended into the dirt-floored entryway and went out to the backyard.
Rintaro became completely absorbed and chased after Mother, still barefoot.
And then, he burst into tears with a strained voice.

Mother was also at a loss over this.
Mother was holding onto the persimmon tree and thinking.
And she seemed about to say something to Rintaro, but without voicing it, she simply—

“Then I’ll take you along,” she said, taking Rintaro’s hand.

To reach Mother’s family village by following the hills around the inlet required a journey of over two ri, but crossing straight across by boat measured only fourteen or fifteen chō. Those living along the lakeshore—women and children included—were skilled rowers, so Mother had always rowed herself home when visiting her family. The boats here were small vessels called sappa boats, indispensable for rice planting and other tasks, meaning every household kept at least one.

Mother placed Rintaro in the center of the sappa boat, then took up the bamboo pole and smoothly pushed off.
The day held quintessential early summer weather—the hill’s new greenery hazily misted, sky and water softly swelling, frogs croaking sleepily—all merging into an indescribably pleasant mood.

However, Mother remained silent as she handled the pole.
Rintaro gazed vacantly toward the village ahead while his mind churned with thoughts.

"It was after all because of my big head that something bad had happened."

Five

Before long, Mother’s family home came into view.
Among trees where young leaves had swollen thick and lush, a large thatched roof appeared, followed by the white walls of the rice storehouse.
Those white walls glowed warmly as they caught the morning sun.

Whenever this view came into sight, Mother would always smile and push off energetically with the boat, but today she didn’t even look toward it.
She merely kept handling the pole listlessly while looking down.

Rintaro became sad.
So, reaching out from the gunwale, he plucked and discarded the white water lilies blooming on the surface, plucked and discarded them, struggling to hold back his tears.

Before long, the boat reached the shore beneath the rice storehouse.
The many ducks that had been playing at the water's edge fled, quacking as they swam away.

Mother took Rintaro's hand and climbed the hill, then looked back toward the inlet they had just crossed and sighed.
Then they passed in front of the rice storehouse and entered the main house's garden.

On the veranda of the main house, Mother's mother—that is, Rintaro's grandmother—was doing needlework with her glasses on, but when she saw Rintaro and the others, she removed her glasses while—

“Oh my, you’ve come.
“And you came too, Rintaro.”

she said joyfully, smiling.

“Is work off at your place today?”
“Is school off for you too, Rintaro?”

she asked.

However, since work wasn’t off at Rintaro’s house that day, and school wasn’t out for Rintaro either, neither of them could give an answer.

Mother placed the wrapped bundle she had brought on the veranda, sat down beside Grandmother, and began speaking in a low voice.
As she spoke, Mother’s face gradually lowered.
Grandmother listened with murmured agreement, but before long her face too was turned downward.

Rintaro thought they were talking about something he shouldn’t be hearing.
He also thought they must be talking about his big head.
And so, he slowly left his mother’s side and trudged toward the rice storehouse.

Six

“Rintaro, don’t go too far away now.”

With that, Mother called out from behind.

“Uh-huh.”

Rintaro answered without turning around and headed down toward the water’s edge where the boat he’d come on with Mother was moored.
There, the same ducks from before were swimming around, quacking away, seeming to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.
Rintaro gazed absently at them and felt as though he had finally become completely alone.

Then from behind came a whimpering sound—whine, whine, whine. When he turned to look, there was a small pure white fluffy dog. With its sheep-like fluffy fur and shaggy front legs stretched forward, it opened round button-brown eyes in bewilderment and let out barks that sounded more like whimpers than proper woofs.

Rintaro, who loved dogs, suddenly brightened—his face, which had been on the verge of tears moments before now lively—and crouching right there, he extended one hand, clicked his tongue a few times, and called out. But instead, the fluffy dog kept backing away while letting out whimpers. Rintaro thought to catch it and stood up to approach. Then the fluffy dog turned away and scampered off. It had dashed off so abruptly that it tumbled headfirst into a full somersault, then frantically scrambled back up and started running again.

All puppies tend to have big heads, but that fluffy dog’s head looked especially large. That must be why it would pitch forward whenever it suddenly started running. Rintaro found it funny and shouted, “Hey there, big head…” However, that was what he himself was constantly being told by the village children. Rintaro felt a strange emotion. And that fluffy dog became very dear to him. He came to feel it was like a sibling to him.

After that, Rintaro tried to figure out how to tame that fluffy dog.
He puckered his lips to blow clumsy whistles, pretended to have food to offer, and flopped down on the roadside grass as if inviting it to play.
The fluffy dog no longer tried to run away, but even as it spun its big head round and round and clowned about, it still wouldn’t come any closer.

“What’s your name? A nameless mutt? Since you’re white, must be Shiro. I’ll give you a name! I’ll call you Shiroko. ...Shiroko, come here. I’ll make you my disciple. If you don’t like disciple, I’ll make you my little brother.”

To Rintaro, Shiroko seemed to grin. Then he lifted a front paw slightly, looking as if to say he was happy. But still, he didn’t come closer.

Then, from the main house’s garden, Mother—
“Rintaro… Lunchtime…”
Mother called out.
Rintaro reluctantly left the spot.

Seven

Rintaro was sitting between Grandmother and Mother in the kitchen with a hearth, eating his lunch.
Then Shiroko—who’d been there earlier—had somehow come to the earthen floor and was looking up at everyone eating their meal, wagging his tail with pure envy.
Rintaro was surprised and overjoyed,
“Oh! Shiroko! It’s Shiroko!”

he exclaimed, springing to his feet.

“Well, well.”

Grandmother also looked down at Shiroko,

“Is this one from your house?”

“Nuh-uh. He was playing all by himself earlier, so I made him my little brother.”

“Then, is he a stray?”

“He’s no stray! He’s got the name Shiroko, you see.”

“Did that dog say so himself?”
“...Yeah, he said that...”

Grandmother,

“Oh, is that so?”

and then burst out laughing,

“Well then, I suppose I could give him something to eat.”

“Yeah. I’ll feed him.”

Before long, Rintaro took the broth-soaked rice in the cat’s bowl that Grandmother had brought and went down to the earthen floor.
Shiroko must have been starving, for far from running away now, he gobbled it down while wagging his little tail so vigorously it looked ready to fly off.

After that, Rintaro and Shiroko became the best of friends.
Shiroko followed Rintaro everywhere he went, as if he were a real younger brother.
Rintaro completely forgot the feeling of having become all alone.

Rintaro took Shiroko and ran around the main house.
They also ran around the rice storehouse.
They went back and forth along the path at the edge of the inlet.
When Rintaro occasionally picked him up, Shiroko would get so excited he’d pee a little.
When Rintaro would lie down on the grass and play around, Shiroko would get so carried away that he’d bite Rintaro’s hands and feet hard enough to leave tooth marks.
At such times,

“Shiroko, you dummy.
“Be more careful.”

When he said this and lightly tapped Shiroko’s head, the dog blinked his eyes and began licking Rintaro’s hand with a raspy tongue, as if to apologize.

Rintaro found Shiroko so endearing that he didn’t know what to do with himself.

Before long, the long day of late spring began to wane.

But Rintaro, unaware even of that, was playing with Shiroko when Mother came out and said:

"Rintaro, you should head home now."

"Are you coming back with me too?"

"I can’t go back today. Instead, I’ll have Tomo-san go with you. That’s okay, isn’t it?"

Tomo-san was the farmhand at Grandmother’s household.

“I don’t want Tomo-san! I don’t want Tomo-san!”

“Don’t say such things—just go back quietly today, please. Otherwise Mother will be in trouble.”

“……”

“Then take Shiroko with you.”

“Since Rintaro’s got himself a little brother named Shiroko now, he shouldn’t feel lonely anymore.”

“……”

Rintaro hugged Shiroko while biting his fingernails.
Mother let out a deep sigh,
“This is so difficult...”
And then she hung her head again.
Rintaro had been watching Mother’s demeanor intently with upturned eyes, but as if he had reached some decision,
“Then… you’ll definitely come back tomorrow, Mother?”
“Tomorrow...”

And then Mother faltered slightly, but—
“Yes, I’ll come back tomorrow.”
And then she said in a small voice.

Rintaro was troubled by that too, but finally,

“Then I’ll go back today.”

he replied.

VIII

Rintaro brought Shiroko and returned home, having the farmhand Tomo-san push the boat.
That night, he made a straw bed for Shiroko in the corner of the dirt-floored room and slept together with Grandfather.

The next morning, he got up earlier than usual, took Shiroko with him, climbed the hill behind the house, and looked out toward the inlet.
But Mother did not return.
Rintaro came to that hill countless times until the day darkened, but it was still no use.

And then the next day, and the day after that, Mother did not return.
Rintaro asked Grandfather why Mother wasn’t coming back—three or four times a day—but Grandfather...

“She’ll be back soon—don’t you worry none. Just behave yourself.”

That was all he would say.

At night, Shiroko too would whimper as if saying that sleeping alone was lonely.
Then Rintaro too became unbearably lonely, pressed his face into Grandfather’s chest, and began to sob quietly.
Father would sometimes,

“Rintaro, you come sleep over here!”

Father said, but Rintaro always pretended not to hear such things.

One night, as Rintaro lay beside Grandfather, he finally spoke up.

“Grandfather.
“Is it ’cause I’ve got this big head that Father drove Mother away?”

“Idiot.”
“Even if you’ve got a big head, that ain’t your mother’s fault.”

“Then it’s my fault, right?… Then… I should just die, right?”

“Hey now, what’re you saying?” Grandfather stared intently at Rintaro. “There, there—I’ll bring your mother back for you, so quit thinking such nonsense.” He pulled Rintaro into his chest.

The next day, Grandfather boarded a sappa boat and set off for the house across.
And then, in the evening after it had grown dark, he returned alone once again,

“Mother isn’t feeling well, but she said she’ll come right back once she gets better.”

Grandfather said.

But even after half a month passed, then a full month passed, there was still no word from Mother.

IX

Before long, summer vacation arrived.
Shiroko had grown three times larger than when he was first brought home. At night, he dutifully guarded the house, and during the day, he obediently followed Rintaro’s instructions. Even when they roughhoused together, he no longer had accidents or bit hands and feet too hard.

Moreover, Shiroko was remarkably clever, and whenever Rintaro looked lonely in the evenings or such, he would press right up against Rintaro’s side and refuse to leave.
It was exactly as if he were Rintaro’s own brother.

And so, Rintaro too gradually came to feel that with Shiroko by his side, there were things he could accomplish that he couldn’t do alone.
And then one day, Rintaro managed to accomplish something he couldn’t do alone—together with Shiroko.
That was when he loaded Shiroko onto that "sappa boat," rowed it himself, and finally crossed the inlet to Mother’s hometown.

Grandmother from Mother’s hometown was also surprised by this,
“Oh, Rintaro—did you really row the boat here all by yourself?”
she asked again and again.
Rintaro’s complexion had indeed changed a little, but he answered energetically,

“I’m not alone! There’s two of us—me and Shiroko,” he answered. “I came to pick up Mom. Where’s Mom?” he asked.

Grandmother had a look that said, “This has turned into a real problem,” but—

“Mom’s body still hasn’t gotten better, so she’s gone to the hospital in Tsuchiura. Once she gets better and leaves the hospital, we’ll send her right back to you, so please be patient and go home today.”

Grandmother explained gently.

Rintaro clenched his lips and listened, but—
“Yeah.”
was all he could say.

Now, that day, Rintaro resolved to take Shiroko and go search for Mom at the hospital in Tsuchiura.
To Tsuchiura, going around the edge of Lake Kasumigaura, it was nearly five ri.
The adults could make the round trip by bicycle in a day, but for Rintaro, who was just eleven years old and setting out to walk that same path—trudging along with his little feet on a road he’d never traveled before—it was quite the adventure.
But Rintaro, driven by his single-minded desire to see his mother, had already forgotten all about danger and fear.

X

Rintaro set off toward Tsuchiura with Shiroko in tow.

To the left stretched pine groves and mixed forests.
There, evening cicadas sang shrilly alongside whirring minmin and oily aburazemi in boisterous chorus.
To the right lay lush green rice fields where blue waves rippled with each passing breeze.
Beyond the fields spread Lake Kasumigaura, shimmering with summer’s quintessential brilliance.

Rintaro was walking a path he had never walked before in his life, but as he strolled while gazing at such scenery, he didn't feel particularly lonely. Moreover, he also believed that if he just went to Tsuchiura, he would be able to meet his mother.

The only slight problem for Rintaro was that even though he had brought Shiroko along as a companion, Shiroko was not following properly as a companion should. Since this was also Shiroko's first time walking this path, he didn't stray onto side roads or dash so far ahead as to vanish from sight like he usually did—but he was still utterly restless, lingering at the roadside to sniff intently at telegraph poles, urinating on the base of every one they passed, and glaring from afar whenever he spotted other dogs.
Rintaro,

“Shiroko, you dummy.”

“Shiroko, I’ll punch you!”

“Shiroko, if you don’t walk properly, I won’t take you to Mom’s place.”

He kept walking while frequently shouting things like that.

Before long, the glittering Lake Kasumigaura gradually began to haze over in pale purple.
The cicadas that had been clamoring on the hilltop had now fallen silent, leaving only the evening cicadas’ voices ringing like the tapping of a tiny bell as dusk’s haze enveloped the surroundings.
When he noticed, even Shiroko—who had been causing such a ruckus earlier—was now trudging along, pressed close to Rintaro’s feet.

Rintaro suddenly felt lonely.

How long had I been walking now? Was Tsuchiura still not in sight?

When he thought this and looked ahead, the white road vanished into the evening haze. Beyond it, only two or three yellowish stars had begun to twinkle in the sky. The occasional passersby felt unnerving somehow, and whenever a bicycle suddenly rushed past from behind, Rintaro startled. There, he now spoke to Shiroko in a gentle voice.

“Shiroko, are you tired?”

“Shiroko, are you hungry?”

“Shiroko, when we get to Mom’s place, I’ll feed you something really tasty.”

一一

And so, how far did Rintaro and Shiroko walk?
Suddenly looking up, he saw in the far distance to his right numerous electric lights glowing beautifully, like flowers blooming in profusion across a field.

“Ah, Tsuchiura! Tsuchiura!”

Rintaro jumped up in joy,

“Hey, Shiroko! You can see the town where Mom is now, can’t you?”

But Shiroko kept plodding along wearily.
Rintaro hoisted Shiroko high with both hands,

“Look at that!”
“That’s it!”
“Isn’t it wonderful?”

Rintaro, now fully energized, began walking as if running.

Yet though the town lights seemed close at hand, they remained frustratingly distant.
The more Rintaro drew near, the more the town appeared to retreat into the distance.
So Rintaro pressed on frantically, his breath coming in pants.
When he finally reached the town entrance, his legs had turned to lead and his head had gone foggy.
Shiroko too looked completely spent, tail curled beneath his belly as he trudged weakly along.

When approaching this town while seeing its lights from afar, through Rintaro's eyes it had seemed like a beautiful place akin to the Dragon Palace from folktales.
But upon arrival, far from that vision, small shops lay jumbled in disorderly messes emitting unpleasant odors; the air hung stiflingly hot without a single beautiful spot anywhere.
Moreover, cars blared sirens threatening to sweep people away, buses rattled packed into streets, bicycles darted about clanging bells - making careless walking impossible.
Rintaro and Shiroko kept stopping repeatedly at street corners,

“Geez, this is unbearable,” he muttered to himself.

However, if he kept doing that, no matter how long he walked, he wouldn’t be able to meet his mother.
Rintaro stood in front of a hardware store and asked in the polite language he had learned at school.

“Where is the hospital in Tsuchiura?”

“The hospital in Tsuchiura?”
“Ain’t enough with just that.”

The hardware store clerk’s words were rough.

“A hospital in Tsuchiura.”

“You big head—there’s several damn hospitals here! Go ask ’em for its name!”

Rintaro timidly left the front of that shop.
Rintaro had assumed that once he arrived in this town, simply saying “Tsuchiura Hospital” would be enough for anyone to understand immediately, and that he would thereby be able to see his mother again.
Rintaro realized he was in trouble.
But then he reconsidered—maybe that hardware store clerk didn’t know anything after all.
After walking for some time, he came to a stop in front of a dry goods store.
“Could you tell me where the Tsuchiura Hospital is?”

he asked.

“Huh?” The dry goods store clerk laughed. “Where’d you come from?”

“……”

Rintaro did not answer that. “It’s the hospital where my mom is.”

“Oh,”
“So you came all this way with this pup to see your mother?”
“But just ‘Tsuchiura Hospital’ isn’t enough to tell.”
“What’s the name of the hospital?”

the shopkeeper said kindly.

When told this, Rintaro felt somehow a little sad and suddenly in a trembling voice,

“It’s called Tsuchiura Hospital.”
“There’s no such hospital?”

“Ah, I see. Then you must mean Tsuchiura Hospital.”
“In that case, go straight ahead until you reach a dead end, then turn right and keep going—it’ll be on your left side.”
“You’ll spot it right away—it’s an impressive Western-style building.”

Rintaro felt relieved.
So he took off his hat, bowed politely to the shopkeeper, and walked along the path as instructed.
The town gradually grew livelier, the shops lining the streets became more splendid, and at one store, red and blue electric lights were arranged like camellia blossoms strung on a thread, while a gramophone sang out loudly.
Rintaro also stopped for a while in front of it,

“There really are places like the Dragon Palace after all,” he marveled.

I II

The hospital was easy to find.
Rintaro timidly stepped into the entrance and stood beneath the pure white round ceiling where a large lamp glowed,

“Hello… hello….”

he said.
Then, the window marked "Reception" opened,

“Since it’s nighttime now, you should say ‘good evening,’” came a voice as a young woman in white leaned out. “What is it? Did you come for medicine?”

“No. Is my mom here?”

“Ho ho ho.
“Your ‘my mom’—what’s her name?”

“Rintaro….”

“Kid, just ‘Rintaro’ doesn’t help.”
“What do you mean by ‘Rintaro’?”

“It’s Kawanabayashi Rintaro.”

“Kawanabayashi…?
“Your mother, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Such a person isn’t hospitalized here.”

“That’s a lie! They said she was here!”

“But she isn’t here. I’m not lying at all.”

“……She’s really not here?”

Rintaro glared resentfully.

“You must have gone to the wrong hospital. If you go left here, there’s another hospital on the other side, so try going there.”

Rintaro dejectedly left there and went to try the next hospital he had been told about.
But his mother wasn’t there either.
Rintaro was told of yet another hospital there and went to try that one too, but it was still the same result.
There,
“Since you’re wandering around without even knowing the hospital’s name, you’ll never find her. Go home, Big Head.”

“Since you’re wandering around without even knowing... Big Head,” she said.

Rintaro became so overwhelmed with sadness that he couldn’t even lift his face. So he simply walked in the direction his legs took him. The town lights twinkled faintly. They appeared to twinkle like that because his eyes were filled with tears, but Rintaro didn’t notice this. The entire town now seemed somehow terrifying to him, and he walked on, wanting to quickly reach somewhere without those twinkling lights.

Eventually he finally emerged onto a dark street.
As he kept walking along it endlessly, he came out into a wide open field.
There at the edge of Kasumigaura Lake, summer grass grew thickly across the entire expanse.
Night dew had settled moistly upon the summer grass.
Rintaro walked aimlessly once more, treading through the dewy vegetation.

“Shiroko, where am I supposed to go?”

Rintaro spoke those words to Shiroko, who was walking close to his feet.

“Hey, Shiroko, where’s Mom?”

“Hey, Shiroko, please—you go find her for me.”

“Shiroko… I feel like I’m fading.”

“Shiroko… this feels like a dream.”

No sooner had he said that than Rintaro dropped onto the grass. It was the shore of Kasumigaura Lake, with water right below. Rintaro sat there swaying unsteadily for a time until he began sliding downward, nearly slipping into the water—but a small hollow in the ground caught him, letting his body settle snugly into its shape.

There, Rintaro curled up like a bug and fell asleep.
Poor Rintaro had walked nearly five ri from his mother’s hometown without drinking a single drop of water, and even after arriving in this town, he hadn’t eaten anything while searching hospital after hospital until both his body and mind were utterly exhausted, causing him to collapse in such a place.

Shiroko, having gone without food or water just like Rintaro, was on the verge of collapsing. But when he saw Rintaro collapse so completely, he seemed to realize this was a crisis for his brother, and with ears perked up firmly, he sat vigilantly beside him. There are often dogs who would sacrifice their lives to save their masters from danger, and Shiroko was undoubtedly one such loyal dog. But even so, how would Shiroko save Rintaro, who had collapsed there?

13

This was Rintaro’s father.
When night fell with no sign of Rintaro, Father grew certain he must have gone to Mother’s hometown and boarded a sappa boat to investigate.
But according to Grandmother’s account, though Rintaro had indeed arrived there past noon, he’d turned right back home afterward.

“Then where’d he go?”

“Maybe he was so desperate to see his mom that he went all the way to Tsuchiura.”

“But could a child like that really go all alone?”

“No, no—he might have gone.”
“Now that you mention it, today’s Rintaro was different from usual—he left this house with his lips clenched and a look like he’d resolved himself.”
“Was Shiroko with him?”

“Ah, Shiroko was with him.”

“Then he might’ve gone after all.”
“Alright, I’ll go get him now.”

“Go right away.”
“And there’s one more thing I need to ask.”

Grandmother said with bleary eyes.

“What would that be?”

“To put it plainly, Rintaro believes his big head made you drive his mother from your house. Think hard on that.”

“Ah... I understand.”
“My apologies.”

Father borrowed a bicycle from the house and pedaled toward Tsuchiura with such force the chain nearly snapped.
Within an hour he reached town and rushed breathless into the hospital where Rintaro’s mother lay recovering.

Since Rintaro’s mother had recovered enough from her illness to go outside a little, when she received word that Father had come to visit, she went out to the entrance alone.

Father first,

“Has Rintaro come?” he asked.

“Rintaro?”
“He hasn’t come…”

“He hasn’t come.”
“Ah, then he’s become a missing child!”

“What’s wrong?”

Mother’s face turned pale.
Father concisely explained the circumstances of Rintaro’s disappearance.
Then Mother’s voice was already choked with tears,

“Even though Rintaro isn’t my own child, he treats me like his real mother.”
“It would be terrible to let such a good child go missing.”
“I’ll come help search too.”

and she tried to go outside.

“No, you’re still recovering—don’t push yourself.”
“I’ll search alone.”
“I’ll definitely find him and bring him to you, so don’t fret—just wait here.”

Having said that, Father jumped back onto the bicycle and started racing into town.

Then Father ran frantically through the town.
But when he couldn’t find any sign of them anywhere, he went out to the outskirts—east, south, north, and west—to search.
But even then, he could not find him.

Father was on the verge of losing his mind.
So whenever he found himself emerging into a dark field, he would bellow at the top of his lungs,

“Rintaro-o… Rintaro-o…”

he bellowed.

Before long, night had deepened.
Father’s voice had grown completely hoarse, and he could no longer call out for Rintaro.

14

And then, as he staggered along a pitch-black road—
Out of nowhere came a white dog running up and barking savagely at Father’s legs as if to bite them.
When he looked—wasn’t that Shiroko?
Father leapt off the bicycle,

“Ah! It’s Shiroko! It’s Shiroko!”
“Where’s Rintaro?”

and, hugging Shiroko, he shouted.
Then Shiroko, in a voice that was both sorrowful and joyful, let out mournful yet eager whimpers as he pressed his body against Father’s chest, then bounded off into the pitch-dark road.

“Ah, that way.”
“Thank you, Shiroko.”
“Thank you, Shiroko.”

Father said as he followed behind on his bicycle.

In that manner, Shiroko ably guided Father to the lakeshore where Rintaro had collapsed from exhaustion.
Father picked up the collapsed Rintaro and,
“Rintaro… Rintaro…”

He called out with all his might.
Rintaro finally opened his eyes at that voice.
And when he realized it was Father,
“I’m going to die now.”

he said.

“Don’t say such foolish things,” Father said, shaking Rintaro’s shoulders. “I’ve come to get you. It’s okay now, so you need to stay strong.”

“I don’t need Father! It’s Mom… Mom…”

“So I’m taking you to Mom. Tomorrow, Mom, Rintaro, and I—the three of us—will go home together. You’ve got to stay strong.”

“So you found out where Mom’s hospital is?”

“Ah, ’course I found it. Mom’s been waitin’ her heart out for you to come, Rintaro.”

“So Father—you won’t go bullyin’ Mom no more?”

“Who’d do such a thing?”
“I’ll care for her just like you care for Shiroko.”

“Even with my big head?”

“Your head’s not big anymore.”
“Even Shiroko had a big head when he was a pup – doesn’t now.”
“You’re just like Shiroko.”

Father made Rintaro stand on the grass and squatted down in front of him,

“Come on, get on my back.”
“We’re going to Mom’s place.”

“Wait, Father.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Father, you’re such an idiot.”
“You’re forgetting Shiroko.”

“Oh, right,” Father said, petting Shiroko’s head.
“Thank you, Shiroko.”
“Thanks to me, Rintaro was saved.”
“Rintaro’s mother and I were saved too!”

Shiroko wagged his tail happily.
Rintaro squatted down in front of Shiroko,

“Here, Shiroko, give me a piggyback.”

“Ah, right. That’s it, that’s it.”

There, Father lifted Shiroko onto Rintaro’s back, then piggybacked Rintaro himself, climbed onto the bicycle, and energetically set off toward Mother’s place looking just like a circus acrobat.
(Showa 10 [1935], Feb–Apr)