Pathway to Japanese Literature

One

On the second floor of a neat little bird shop before Fukagawa Hachiman Shrine, while letting a mallard or something sizzle away, a man and a woman sat facing each other across a brazier in the center. The man was a dark-complexioned youth of twenty-seven or eight with a lean, rock-solid frame, wearing a striped kimono lined with floral-patterned fabric and a matching striped haori whose collar revealed glimpses of sober damask lining patterned with scattered seals. His tightly wrapped navy Hakata obi bore an iron chain, and as he sat cross-legged, he kept tugging at his kimono hem to conceal his protruding calves while talking.

The woman appeared to be about twenty-two or twenty-three—her fair-skinned, amiable round face featuring delicate features, her hair arranged in a thick-wheeled ginkgo-leaf bun. She wore a kimono with an Isezaki-patterned collar, a black satin obi interwoven with an alternating-patterned day-night design, and a Yonezu-patterned haori draped loosely off her shoulders.

The man drained his cup in one swift motion and said, “Come now, Miss Mitsu—let me pour you one.” “Well, I… Rather than that, let me pour for you.”

“Oops—it’s spilling!” “After all—three years since I last had you pour me a drink like this.” “When was that again? Two-three days before I shipped out? Went to say goodbye at your place—your old man got fired up like never before.” “Next thing we know some pockmarked Kiyomoto teacher shows up—whole damn night raising hell—till Pa starts dancing setteco.” “Drunk off his ass wobbling around—big bastard plops right on the shamisen—snaps the neck clean off! That old music master bawling his eyes out—still see it clear as yesterday... But that same Pa—full of life back then—dead now? Feels like some fuckin’ dream—what killed him?”

“There was no illness or anything like that. As usual, he had a drink in the evening, got in good spirits, and headed to the bathhouse humming something. Soon enough, the bathhouse attendant came rushing over saying something had happened to your father. When I hurried there to check, he was already cold, still stuck in the bathtub. It was a stroke after all... They say drinking alcohol and getting into the bath is really dangerous.” “Hmm, drinkers ought to be careful.” “But I sure do love a good soak though.”

“That’s right.” “Mr. Kin, you’ve always loved scalding water from the start, haven’t you?” “But when you’re drunk, you need to be careful—it’s no laughing matter.”

“Much obliged! I ain’t ready to kick the bucket just yet.” “Of course! You can’t go dying now. Speaking of which, how old did you turn this year again?”

“Twenty-nine—damn, this is unbearable. Next year I’ll be pushing thirty! Miss Mitsu—you’re twenty-three this year?” “Yes, you remembered that well,” the woman said with a soft smile.

“As if I could forget!” The man grinned. “But anyway, meeting you in such a good spot—guess you’d call it Lord Hachiman’s doing. To tell you the truth, when I came here from Yokohama, I went straight to Tsukuda and visited your old home, Miss Mitsu. But then they’d already gone off somewhere—even the neighbors didn’t know where—so you can’t imagine how disappointed I was.” “And there I was—when someone called ‘Miss Mitsu! Miss Mitsu!’ by the torii gate, I thought, ‘Who could that be?’ and quickly turned around only to find it was you, Mr. Kin! I was truly startled. So tell me—what on earth have you been doing since passing through Tokyo until now?”

“Well, it’s a long story if I get into all the details… Right after that, I boarded a ship and left Yokohama. From spring through summer the following year, I was mainly hunting fur seals around Korea.” “However, that year the hunting was terribly poor again, and since there was nothing to be done about it, after discussing with the captain and the rest of the crew, we mustered our courage and set out for Russia to poach.” “Then, as if our luck wasn’t bad enough, what we ran into at a place called Komandorski was one of their damn warships!” “We were just a sailing ship—couldn’t flee or put up a fight. The ship was seized in an instant, everyone on board strung together like prayer beads, and we were all handed over to the natives there until their government’s hunting patrol arrived.”

“Oh my! That must have been terrible.” “In that case, it’s no wonder there was no word from you.” “Even if I’d wanted to send word, there was no damn way to do it.”

The woman nodded. "Then what happened?" "Then, before long, a Russian patrol ship came." "But their ship was fully loaded, so they said they couldn’t take us this time and told us to wait until next—so we ended up stranded on that island." “Looking back now, it was a good thing we were left behind—if they’d taken us away back then, we’d be having a hell of a time in some Vladivostok prison or another by now.” “Then, before long, this damn war broke out, so they stopped giving a damn about Russia or anything else—Japanese patrol ships started pouring into Komandorski and such. Once we got rescued from the island, I’ve been working on that ship right up till now… Guess I was lucky when you think about it.” “Among those bearded natives who didn’t understand a word of our language, when we weren’t even given proper food—I never once dreamed I’d make it back to Japan safe and sound to see you again, Miss Mitsu.”

“Of course you would! I can well imagine!” “I too—though it’s ill-omened to say—had no word from you. When I asked everywhere, they couldn’t even tell where your ship had gone. Oh, how awful!” “Mr. Kin, I thought your whole ship must’ve been swept away or sunk at sea—that by now you’d be food for the fish! I was nearly holding your memorial service!” “Well truly—even so, you managed to come back safe after all!”

The man waved the sake bottle as if suddenly noticing it and said, “Ha ha ha—what a dreary turn the conversation’s taken. The sake’s gone cold and everything.” “Miss Mitsu, you ain’t touchin’ a damn thing! Quit holdin’ back and eat like a horse!” he said, clapping his hands to summon the maid. “Hey lass—another bottle… Make it hot.” “And two more servings of wild duck—mix in some side dishes too.” And soon, the order arrived. The man lifted the sake bottle. “Well then—the hot one’s here. Let me pour you a cup.”

The woman obediently accepted the cup this time. “Is that so? Then I’ll have one. Just a sip—let me make a show of it and leave it at that, please.” “What’s this cowardly act? You’re your father’s daughter, ain’t ya?”

“But a woman who drinks too much doesn’t make much of a show, you know.”

“Well, even if others don’t make a grand show of it, I kinda like someone who gets red around the eyes and hums a little ditty or two.” “Oh my! What a performance!” “Must be about some sweetheart of yours, then.” “Hey now—quit dodgin’ the subject. “I’m speakin’ dead serious to you, Miss Mitsu.”

“Well, if you’re saying that to me, I’m afraid you’re out of luck. My face might redden if I drink, but humming ditties—such spirited acts don’t suit Miss Mitsu’s standing.” “It ain’t so bad as all that. Never forget—wasn’t that during Master Kiyomoto’s cherry-blossom viewing? We ran into that whole troupe at Asukayama’s tea stall, geisha and rakugo artists in tow. They plied you with drink half in jest till you were soused rotten—yet still you stubbornly belted out *Edozakura* or whatnot, leavin’ everyone agape. Hey, you recall that, don’tcha?”

“Oh yes, that did happen, didn’t it? Now that I think of it, wasn’t I nineteen that spring? Back then, I was quite the wild one too… Ah, but there’ll never be anything as delightful as those days again!” she said wistfully, nostalgically recalling her own bygone spring. “Ha ha ha, you’re talkin’ like some damn old woman here. Miss Mitsu, you’re still in the prime of a woman’s life! The truly interesting things are yet to come.”

“No, once you reach this age, it’s no good.” “Well, men can stay young forever even in their thirties or forties if they keep the right mindset, but women have absolutely no mettle at all.” “First of all, people around you won’t allow you to keep acting young forever.” “So rather than lacking mettle, women simply get a worse deal compared to men, you see.” “Hold on, hold on—this talk’s gettin’ too damn serious…” The man poured himself a drink and downed it in one gulp. “Say, I almost forgot to ask—where you livin’ now, Miss Mitsu? What’s your place?”

“Me?” The woman hesitated for a moment before replying, “I’m still in Fukagawa.” “I know Fukagawa—which district?” “Kiyosumicho, right by Eitai.” “Kiyosumicho next to Eitai, eh? I’ll come visit.” “What’s the address?” “Twenty-four Banchi in Kiyosumicho.” “They’ll know it right away if you say ‘Yoshida.’” “Yoshida?” “What’s this ‘Yoshida’ business?” “It’s my husband’s surname,” the woman said, forcing a smile.

“Huh?!” The man instinctively widened his eyes and stared at her face, then forced a wry smile. “You’re joking, right?”

“Oh, it’s true. Last autumn I married… You must know him—Yoshida Shinzo from the fish shop called Yoshishin that used to be in Tsukuda too…” “Yoshida Shinzo! Of course I know him!” “So Miss Mitsu, is that for real?” “Haa…” she nodded helplessly.

“Hmm!” With this single utterance, the man wore a face drained of all drunkenness—or anything else—clasped his hands and remained bowed in silence.

The woman too remained wordless for a time, merely bowing her head sorrowfully and fiddling with the cotton padding at her knees—until at last: “Mr. Kin… You’ll surely think me a pitiful woman when you hear this… But what could I do? Father had passed away, and you—the one I’d relied on—were gone from this world nine times out of ten by your own account earlier. With no proper family left to support me, I was truly alone and desperate.” “Then Yoshishin came forward with an offer around that time. At first, I gave vague answers… but people kept nagging me about my age, so I ended up resigned to it, you see? Mr. Kin… You—well, it’s too late for reproaches now—if only you’d sent word that you were safe… Though given how things turned out, maybe even that was impossible…”

“Right… If I could’ve done that, I wouldn’t have complaints…” He raised his face with an air of resignation. “That’s how it is—whether Miss Mitsu takes a husband or not, I ain’t got no right to say a damn thing about it. But… Miss Mitsu—you’d understand what’s in my heart, wouldn’t you?” “Yes… I do.” “If we’d at least made some verbal promise between us—but there was never any such thing to begin with. And hearing your story now, every point makes sense… Can’t even find a way to hold a grudge… But still—I resent this without any reason at all…”

………… “It’s not like you meant anything by it, Miss Mitsu—but that morning when I was finally leaving for Yokohama, I stopped by your place before setting out. You kept telling me to wait for you—how those words carved themselves into my heart as I departed! But when you think about it—hell, anyone’d say that much as empty politeness…” “Mr. Kin!” The woman’s voice snapped like a taut thread. “Calling that ‘empty politeness’ is too cruel! That wasn’t my intention at all. True, I never put it into clear words—but I knew your heart, and you must’ve known mine. Yet now you bring this up…”

“Ah, never mind,” the man said briskly, shaking his head. “Known each other since we were brats—knew each other’s hearts inside out—yet end up like this through some cursed twist… Guess it just wasn’t meant to be!” “Nah, makes me look a right fool now—spoutin’ all that nonsense not knowin’ you had a husband.” “Miss Mitsu, don’t take this wrong—let’s drown this talk here tonight, eh?” “But you brushin’ it off like that… Makes me feel all the more unsettled...”

“What’s there for Miss Mitsu to apologize about? I’m the one who should be apologizing.” “But putting all that aside—you’ll still keep seein’ me like before, right?” “Why? Isn’t that only natural?” “But with a husband around… figured you wouldn’t need some rough sailor friend,” he said with a hollow smile. “Mr. Modesty! I’m not that sort of woman!” she protested sharply, then fell silent, staring at her folded hands.

The man spoke with feigned cheer: “Then I can rest easy! It’s not like I’m some stranger to your Mr. Shinzo either—let’s use this bond to grow even closer through it. I’ll count on that from you!” “As you know, I ain’t got no family to speak of… Let’s just treat this like proper kin relations or somethin’… Here—let me pour you another cup.” The woman silently accepted the offered cup. After taking a sip, she set it down and wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her underrobe. “Mr. Kin—there’s something I need to discuss. Won’t you hear me out?”

“You’ve gotten awfully formal.” “What’s this ‘consultation’ about?” “It’s nothing else—I was thinking of finding you a wife…” “A wife? Well… Doesn’t that sound kinda odd? You saying you can’t sleep unless you shove someone at me quick?” “Oh my, what a roundabout notion! Since you mentioned kinship ties earlier, I got to thinking… You’ll need to marry eventually anyway. If I find you a suitable match and we serve as matchmakers, we could keep consulting each other afterward. That’s why I mentioned it… What do you say? Would our being your matchmakers displease you?”

“Nah, that’s not it—having you and Mr. Shinzo as matchmakers would be too good for the likes of me. But being matchmakers is one thing…” He began, then trailed off, casting his eyes downward and falling silent. “Being matchmakers is one thing—but what’s troubling you?”

“What do you think? Miss Mitsu.” The man asked with shining eyes. “What?” “Would there at least be someone like your shadow?” “What’s this, you! I’m being serious here!” “I’m being serious too.” “Well, let’s set aside the jokes—I’ll arrange someone you’re sure to take a liking to from now on, so leave this matter to me.”

“I’ll leave it to you—as long as she’s got even a shadow of your likeness, she’ll be just right for me.”

“Oh, stop teasing me. Even someone as plain-faced and slow-witted as me—I’ll find you one whose looks and temperament won’t shame you anywhere you go. So—from now on—wait in eager anticipation, won’t you?” “Well then—I’ll wait with that hope.” “Hey Miss Mitsu—all we do is talk and never get anything done.” “How ’bout it—if the sake’s a bother, I’ll call it a meal instead.”

“No, I’ve had plenty of food and everything else. I’ve been eating heartily since earlier—I’m quite full.” “But come on—one bowl’s fine, ain’t it? I’ll join you too.” “You’re still drinking sake though—I’ve truly had enough. And besides, if it gets too late…” “No mistake there—Mr. Shinzo must be worried.” “Don’t say such vexing things! But honestly—my husband’s been unwell and bedridden this whole time, you see.”

“I see. That’s no good.”

II

In Kiyosumi-cho, a modest town by Eitai Bridge, there stood a fish shop called Yoshishin, known throughout the neighborhood for its fresh goods and the mistress’s artful flattery. Originally from Tsukudajima, they had relocated here less than two years prior, yet recently attracted remarkable clientele—expanding dealings with grand shops and estate households in the vicinity—so aggressively that local competitors now viewed them as unexpected rivals, with some even muttering malicious gossip: "What gives Yoshishin the right? That Wicked Shin’s neither boiled nor roasted worth eating!"

Yet in truth, Shinzo—master of Yoshishin—was neither evil nor saintly, but an ordinary merchant. His shop’s rapid expansion stemmed solely from ample capital and offering better goods at lower prices than competitors had. His father, Shingoro, still ran a fish shop under the same Yoshishin name in Tsukudajima, which remained a prominent establishment there. The shop thrived, its operations ran smoothly, and to top it off, the mistress was beautiful—under such circumstances, Yoshishin’s eternal prosperity seemed assured. Yet worldly affairs rarely conformed to one’s every expectation. For two or three months now, the master had been languishing with an illness initially misdiagnosed by doctors as severe influenza, only for it to be determined recently as kidney disease. To be sure, he had contracted the same illness four or five years prior; back then, it had struck suddenly yet healed completely within about three weeks. This time, however, it crept in gradually—while lasting longer, it caused less suffering than before. Provided he endured the dull throbbing around his lower abdomen and waist, the occasional fever and chills remained manageable enough. For now, he simply rested idly, rising and lying down as he pleased. The mistress managed the accounts and shop with the apprentice’s help; purchasing and client visits were entirely entrusted to a young man sent over by his father.

Perhaps due to the poor catch leaving little stock today, the shop had been cleared spotless down to the last small fish. As the young man in pale blue work jackets diligently scrubbed the trays, the apprentice nibbled at sashimi scraps on the cutting board while sweeping the wooden floor with a stubby bamboo broom. Having finished washing one tray, the young man suddenly turned to look at the apprentice. “Sanko—when did Madam go out?” “Right, I think it was just when Mr. Tame was about to head out for client rounds.”

“But that’s damn late, ain’t it? Lately Madam’s been actin’ real strange—leavin’ the shop all neglected and flittin’ about restlessly like this…” “Oh, it’s nothing. With today’s poor catch makin’ the shop quiet, she said she couldn’t go out proper for errands ’cept at times like this.” “Hah! What errand? Ain’t no secret—listen up Sanko, I’ll school ya good. Next time Madam heads out, try sayin’, ‘Must be some pleasure jaunt,’ and she’ll slip ya ten or twenty sen hush money quick enough.”

“I don’t gotta say stuff like that—Madam’s always givin’ me spendin’ money anyway.”

“Hey!” “What a guy with no damn theatrics,” he muttered under his breath as he began scrubbing the next tub. After some time passed: “Oi—Sanko.”

“What is it?” “Mr. Tame.” “See—there was this guy who came by Madam’s place the other day…”

“Mr. Tame, you’re always going on about Madam again, huh?”

“Quit messin’ around! You’re twistin’ this all wrong... Ain’t that Kinnosuke guy been comin’ round here lately?” “Hmm, you mean the sea horse? That guy who brought those big tusks as a gift to the master, right?” “That guy—ain’t he comin’ back after that?” “Doesn’t seem like he’s come.” “Liar! As if he hasn’t been coming!” “Then did you see him yourself?” “I ain’t out on client rounds every day—haven’t seen him, but I can pretty much guess.”

“Is that so?” “Exactly. He must be coming to the shopfront pretending to shop or something, then whispering secrets with Madam so the master don’t notice before leaving, right? So, what d’ya say, Sanko? Hit the mark, didn’t I?” The apprentice made a puzzled face. “I ain’t seen nothin’ like that. ‘Sides, he ain’t come even once since then.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really!” “That can’t be right,” the young man tilted his head quizzically, then resumed scrubbing the tray with renewed vigor as if suddenly remembering.

After scrubbing vigorously for about ten minutes, he called out again, “Sanko.” “You don’t gotta keep callin’ ‘Sanko, Sanko’ every time—I’m right here.” “Ain’t there been any mail comin’ to Madam’s place lately?” “Mail’s always comin’.” “Not just any mail—I mean the kind Madam reads alone without showin’ the master?” “How should I know? I ain’t been payin’ attention to that sorta… Oh! Madam!” “Huh?!” The young man whirled around in surprise—there stood Madam Mitsu, having returned unnoticed right behind them.

“How diligent.” “Heh, had no idea you’d returned… Must be freezing out there?” “What do you mean? It’s warm out though,” she said, folding her umbrella.

“Oh, well, it’s clear weather after all,” Mr. Tame remarked, having been acting somewhat flustered lately. Mitsu stepped up from the shopfront, stored the removed split-toed clogs and umbrella in the clog box at the corner of the veranda beyond the next tearoom, folded the sleeves of her Chichibu meisen work coat neatly, placed it atop the chest of drawers in the parlor adjoining another tearoom, then—while tightening with both hands the slackened black satin obi tied loosely over her matching Chichibu meisen kimono with its half-collar fastened—ascended to the second floor. When the sound of footsteps on the stairs ceased, Mr. Tame mockingly stuck out his tongue.

“Sanko—you knew Madam had returned and kept quiet about it, didn’t you?” “Liar! I was facin’ this way talkin’, so I didn’t know until then!” “Did you hear what I was sayin’?” “I might’ve heard.”

“Hey! What’ll happen now?” he said, sloshing water across the wooden counter with a splash. “Listen here, Sanko—when you’re done cleaning, come here. Hurry up and finish—let’s hit the bathhouse while it’s still light out.”

After that came the sound of someone groaning out naniwabushi ballads and the scrub-scrubbing, splash-splashing of water on bundled straw.

Upstairs lay the master afflicted with kidney disease, asleep. The six-mat room appeared brighter than its high windows and low ceiling would suggest, containing a token tokonoma alcove and perfunctory hanging scroll, with specially ordered soapstone balls arranged on a merino wool mat. There sat Master Shinzo - having thrown off his chintz haori jacket, cross-legged on a futon draped with blankets - a man around thirty with sharply defined features that might have been dashing were it not for his deathly pallor and slightly swollen face. As he massaged his lower back with a mournful grimace, any trace of handsomeness vanished into the wretchedness of a vigorous man brought low by illness.

Mitsu sat facing him. "Was there any change while I was away?" "It's nothing particular... Just the same throbbing pain as always."

“If only the doctor could make even this throbbing stop sooner!” “If it’s too painful, should I boil some konjac for you?” “Nah, got this hand warmer on… Plus today, I ain’t had one proper movement—took a laxative earlier but it ain’t worked yet. Reckon that’s why my chest feels all queasy.” “That won’t do. How about trying another dose of laxative?” “Nah, let’s wait a spell longer. If it still ain’t workin’, we’ll do the enema,” he said, massaging his lower belly. “So how’d things go with Miss Sen?”

“Well, I’d say it’s ninety percent settled—after all, the old lady was practically over the moon about it.” “It’s only natural she’s thrilled, but what about Miss Sen herself?” “Well, it’s not like she has any firm opinions one way or another—ultimately, it’s up to the old lady.” “Though from how that girl first spoke, she seemed keen on marrying some salaried worker and reluctant about a sailor—but once I gradually explained in detail that he’s no ordinary seaman, that he does such-and-such work, she ended up asking all sorts of questions herself and mulling it over.” “Her looks are as you’ve seen—quite fine—and what’s more, she’s fond of reading and writing, always peering into newspapers and storybooks like she does. I suppose that’s made her a bit high-minded, don’t you think?”

“But you’re wrong—just ’cause she’s high-minded don’t mean she oughta look down on sailors. Sure, three-copper ferrymen are sailors an’ riverboat stokers are sailors too—but by that token, steamship captains an’ warship officers are still sailors ain’t they? From what folks say ’bout Mr. Kin, he’s done proper man’s work crossin’ every ocean there is—compared to some salaried worker bowin’ an’ scrapin’ to his bosses for fixed wages, who knows how much prouder a wife could hold her head havin’ him as her husband!”

“Really now, I do think so myself. First off, isn’t it carefree? The husband’s away half the year from home—at most three or four months ashore—so afterward she can live however she pleases, whether lazing about or not… And since they specifically want someone with elderly dependents on the receiving end, where else would you find such a good opportunity? Once Miss Sen is settled, that mother of hers would have to be taken in or supported somehow—but really now, most men would balk at such a troublesome burden.”

“Yeah, even I’d be worried about that. But if you were in Mr. Kin’s shoes—he’d fret without some old-timer attached, what with him being gone all the time and leavin’ a young wife alone… Hey Miss Mitsu, take your case—your man’s never home neither, yet that monthly remittance keeps comin’. If your ‘work’ is just eatin’, sleepin’, and lazin’ about every day, wouldn’t you get itchin’ to try some foolin’ around?” he said, rubbing his lower back while spouting this sickbed spite.

Mitsu replied with composure, “Well, unless one experiences it oneself, there’s simply no way to tell.”

As she was saying this, from below the steep stairs came the apprentice’s voice: “Madam! Madam!” “Coming! What’s all this racket!”

“Madam!” “I said I’m coming!” The apprentice, apparently having finally failed to hear her response, came clattering up the steep stairs and, from the top of the staircase, further—

“Madam!” “What is it?! I’ve been responding this whole time, haven’t I?” “Is that so?” The apprentice blinked rapidly and started to head back down without another word.

“Hey, why are you leaving without a word? What did you call me for?” “Uh, there’s a customer… That person who brought the horse bone the other day…”

“What’s this about a horse bone?” said Shinzo. “No, it’s surely that Mr. Kin.”

“Yes, it’s about that Mr. Kin.” “How dare you presume to say ‘Mr. Kin’ with that insolent mouth of yours!” “Right.”

Mitsu turned to Shinzo. "What should we do? Shall we have him come in here?" “This place’s too cluttered up—ain’t the downstairs sitting room better?” "Well, let’s have him shown to the sitting room then," Mitsu said as she began to rise, whereupon the apprentice spun around and clattered down ahead of her.

When Mitsu went out front to greet him, the guest was none other than Kinnosuke—dressed today in a navy striped woolen suit with mat-weave trousers and a hunting cap tucked under one arm. He followed her lead into the sitting room, while Tame, the young shop hand who had seen him off, clicked his tongue in irritation before tossing a hand towel over his shoulder and striding off toward the public bath. “How is Mr. Shinzo’s illness?” Kinnosuke asked as soon as he took his seat. “Still unchanged.” “Still throbbing all over then?”

“Well... I keep wishing at least the throbbing would stop… He must be suffering terribly himself, but truly, it’s unbearable to watch,” Mitsu said with a pensive furrow of her elegant brows. “Of course, they say that illness poses no danger to his life—sooner or later, he’ll surely recover, so there’s no need to fret. Still, today’s pain is so severe… At this rate, his body will waste away entirely.”

“Well, as long as there’s hope he’ll recover, that’s something.” “If you fret yourself sick over it—that’d be a real problem.” “Thank you—but really, I’m sturdier than I look,” she said with a fleeting smile first. “Mr. Kin, you’ve come at just the right time today.” “Truth is, I meant to call on you tomorrow… But—well! I’ve found the perfect girl—someone made-to-order to be your wife.”

“That’s mighty kind of you—ha ha! If she’s tailor-made for Mr. Kin, ain’t she just a grinning face on a candy wrapper?” “Oh, this isn’t a joke. Well, I’ll show you the photo…” she began to rise. “Now hold on, Miss Mitsu—the photo can wait. Truth is, I came today to visit Mr. Shinzo in his sickness, so first off I wanna see him for a bit…” He produced a furoshiki-wrapped bundle. “Ain’t much to look at, but it’s easy on the digestion—please give this to the patient.”

“Well, I don’t know what this is about, but I feel bad accepting something every time you come.” “Well then, it’s a bit cluttered, but would you please go up to the second floor?” “Alright.”

Thereupon, Mitsu took the furoshiki-wrapped bundle and led the way, with Kinnosuke following her up to the second floor. After waiting for Shinzo and Kinnosuke to finish exchanging their initial greetings, Mitsu untied the furoshiki bundle and showed it to her husband. A splendid paulownia-wood-covered box adorned with red and white ceremonial cords bore the label "Koshi no Mizore" on its front. “You—I’ve been given this.”

“I see. “No, Mr. Kin—it’s rather troubling that you’d trouble yourself like this. “Just the other day you gave me something so valuable, and now this splendid gift…” “Nah, it ain’t anythin’ worth all that fuss… Just a little token for the sickbed, is all.” “Well, since you’ve gone to the trouble, I’ll gratefully accept this one—but from now on, please refrain entirely from such gestures… Otherwise, what should be a matter of family ties ends up feeling like transactions with a stranger… Yes, family ties, as they say,” he said, turning to Mitsu. “Have you spoken to him about Miss Sen?”

“No—not yet in detail…” “Then why don’tcha explain it proper-like?”

“Well then, I’ll just go fetch that photo…” Mitsu went downstairs to retrieve it. Afterward, Shinzo said, “Mitsu here—she’s been insisting she absolutely must find you a proper match, Mr. Kin—has been searching obsessively these past days.” “To think you’ve gone to such trouble… I’m truly grateful.” “Now today I’ve found one… Since there’s some family connection through me, it feels odd to praise her myself—but truly, both temperament and features are exceptionally refined… Let me show you the photo now—” Just as he spoke these words, Mitsu came upstairs holding the photograph.

“Here, Mr. Kin,” Mitsu presented it. When Kinnosuke took the photo to examine, he found a hand-sized bust portrait of an utterly charming girl—her loveliness surpassing that of ten ordinary girls combined. She appeared nineteen, perhaps not yet twenty, yet her attire struck an unexpectedly bold downtown style: hair arranged in a coiffure with decorative metallic hairpins, no haori over her yuzen-dyed underkimono, the silk weave of her kimono patterned in waterfall-like stripes. “Now Mr. Kin, wouldn’t you take a liking to her?” Mitsu said with a laugh, though her diction carried odd formality—likely because her husband was present.

“Well, might be a bit too much for the likes of me.” “Not at all—she’s more refined than the photo shows. A quiet, easygoing sort—truly a fine girl.” “You think such a fine girl could stomach having a ruffian like me for a husband?” “I’ll warrant it,” Shinzo cut in from beside them. “That girl’s late father was a proper wastrel—drank through his whole fortune in his day. Left no debts mind you, but her and her mother suffered something awful alone. She’s known hardship since she was knee-high.” “Not like your average girl—a bit of suffering or sorrow won’t faze her.”

“That may be so, but first off—if she settles in at Mr. Kin’s place—I can’t imagine there’d be any unbearable hardships or sorrows to speak of… or so it seems.” “Or what, Mr. Kin—are you suggesting Madam here might do something unbearable from now on?”

How Kinnosuke took Mitsu’s words—he flushed a little. “Don’t be absurd! There ain’t no proper reason for it or nothin’… But just lookin’ at her—seems downright pitiful to make a quiet-made girl like that a sailor’s roughneck wife.” “But the other party’s agreed and says she truly wants to go.” “Ha ha ha! It ain’t quite like that, eh Mr. Shinzo?” “But when it comes to her mother now, she’s apparently dead keen on it. So how ’bout it, Mr. Kin—why not give it some proper thought?” Shinzo pressed with utmost seriousness.

“Yes, that’s right,” Kinnosuke replied with newfound seriousness. “Well then, I’ll give it some proper thought.” “But Mr. Kin—whether you like the photo or not… Well, at least tell me that much.” “I tell ya, gettin’ pressed like this sure catches me off guard. Well, as for her looks—ain’t nothin’ to complain about with this…” “The looks are fine, but is there some other issue…” “Now now, Miss Mitsu—I’ve gotta at least think it over proper… Seein’ as I ain’t even got a proper house yet. Even if I do take a wife, I’d have to start by settin’ up a place for her to sleep first, y’know?”

Three

“To be frank, I had noticed such symptoms emerging some time ago and had advised you beforehand—but given today’s presentation, there’s no doubt it’s uremic poisoning… Once it becomes uremic poisoning, unlike ordinary kidney disease, it’s an extremely perilous condition… What do you say, Madam—perhaps you should have another physician examine him?” “If that were to prove my diagnosis mistaken, nothing could be better.”

After examining Shinzo, whose condition had suddenly deteriorated over the past two or three days, the doctor came downstairs and spoke these words to Miss Mitsu. Even to her untrained eye, Shinzo’s state these past few days had indeed been alarming. Yet Mitsu—who had stubbornly clung to her belief that kidney disease would inevitably be cured—now found herself involuntarily paling and pressing a hand to her chest at the doctor’s grave pronouncement. “Goodness! So if it’s this uremic poisoning you speak of… does that mean there’s no hope left?”

“But since my diagnosis might be wrong, you should have another physician examine him.” “Yes, I will have him examined, but according to your diagnosis, it’s already…” “That’s correct. “There’s no doubt—I’ve diagnosed it as uremic poisoning!” “However, other doctors might have different opinions—there’s no telling.” “Then what does that mean...? If your diagnosis is correct... that is, if it’s what you call uremic poisoning...” Mitsu was already in a fluster.

“If it’s uremic poisoning, this becomes exceedingly dangerous… Madam, I believe offering false comfort would be unfeeling, so I’ll tell you plainly—if this indeed proves to be uremic poisoning, you must consider it practically hopeless!”

“…………”

“In any case, have another doctor examine him. I’ll monitor the progression over the next two or three days.” “Yes.”

“Starting today, the medication will change slightly—prepare accordingly.” “Yes.”

The doctor left. Mitsu saw him out, returned to the tearoom, and collapsed before the long brazier—her eyes brimming with tears. Without wiping the droplets streaming down her cheeks, her chin buried in her collar, she remained absorbed in thought until a groan from upstairs finally roused her to lift her feeble body. But reaching the staircase’s foot, her chest tightened and tears flowed unceasingly, so she pressed a hand to her face and turned back to the brazier.

So she called the apprentice and said, “I’ll watch the shop—you go upstairs and stay by the master’s side.” “Okay, do I just need to stay there?” “You don’t need to ask… If the master asks you to rub him, then rub him.”

“Okay.”

“But last time I rubbed his swollen skin raw and got scolded by the master, didn’t I...” he hesitated. When he saw Madam’s eyes red and swollen from crying, the apprentice—for reasons unclear—pulled an intensely apologetic face and slunk upstairs.

“Judging by the doctor’s tone, it’s ninety-nine percent certain to be hopeless… But could it truly be so?” Mitsu muttered despondently to herself and wiped her eyes.

Just then, a voice called out “Mail!” from the shop, but noticing her own tear-streaked face, she hesitated to go out.

“Ms. Yoshida, mail!” “Yes.” “I’ll leave it here, Ms. Yoshida.” After the postal worker had left, Mitsu finally went out to the shop, picked up the postcard lying at the threshold, and returned to the tearoom—only to find it addressed to her, its sender being none other than the mother of that girl Sen. The text concerned the previously discussed marriage proposal—an inquiry about whether it would be inconvenient for them to call tomorrow—and appeared to have been delayed in delivery, as the date shown was from yesterday. Placing the postcard on her lap, Mitsu gazed at it for what seemed an eternity.

“If it’s truly hopeless now…” she murmured aloud after a pause, then suddenly grew alert, scanning her surroundings. She briskly folded the postcard on her lap into quarters and tucked it into her obi before leaning against the brazier and beginning to poke at the fire. Leaning on one elbow against the edge board of the long brazier, pressing her beautiful forehead with one hand while using fire tongs to jab at the charcoal and smooth the ashes with the other—until at last her hand fell still. Her eyes ceased to blink, pupils fixed unwaveringly as she stared at the charcoal fire gradually crumbling into ash. All the while, her face—perhaps heated by the brazier’s warmth—flushed crimson, and her tears dried.

“If it really is hopeless now… then I…” I murmured again. She took out the previous postcard from her obi and read it once more before tearing it in two and discarding it.

“Madam, has Sanko gone out somewhere?” came the voice from the shop—only then did Mitsu become aware of it—and there was Mr. Tame, back from his errand, peering through the thousand-bar lattice partition.

“Sanko’s upstairs now—did you need something?”

"Oh well, never mind then—thought he'd gone out playing again," he said while sliding open the lattice partition. "Could I trouble you for an ember?"

“Could I borrow the brazier?” Mr. Tame pushed out the shop’s brass brazier, received an ember, then drew it close and took a leisurely drag. He left the lattice partition open and began conversing with Mitsu. “Madam, how’s the master holding up?”

"He's not doing well at all—it's terribly worrying." "If this drags on, Madam, you must be feeling lonely, no?" "Lonely? What do you mean?" Mitsu looked unconvinced. "Why do you ask?" "Heh heh, but you look awfully lonely..." he said with a shifty-eyed look, then added, "Say, ain't seen hide nor hair of Mr. Kinnosuke these four-five days, have we?" Mitsu silently gazed at his face. "What is he, anyway? It's not like he was ever properly acquainted with the master before now, was he?"

“They’re not exactly close acquaintances, but I hear they went to school together as children and have known each other forever.” “Is that so?” “Well I figured since you’re so close with Madam here, that’s why he came around this time for the matchmaking... Not that Mr. Kin would know this, but I used to work as an apprentice right near his place years back—I know all about him.” “So when was that?”

“Well… It must have been four or five years ago now—back when Madam still wore her hair in a Shimada style.” “Oh? So you knew about me back then too?” “Well, I don’t know much about you, Madam, but I did hear from friends—that when Mr. Kin came to the variety halls and such, there was this girl called Miss Mitsu who was skilled in kiyomoto… And Mr. Kin being an old acquaintance and all, I suppose he still can’t quite see you as a stranger even now,” she said, baring her teeth in a grin.

Mitsu flushed crimson. “Don’t speak such nonsense! Going on about us being old acquaintances or him not seeing me as a stranger—it’s as if you’re implying something indecent happened between us! How utterly scandalous that sounds!” “Heh heh, no one’s listenin’, so don’t you worry.” “Oh! You’re still saying such things! Mr. Kin and I have simply been acquaintances since we were girls—because our parents lived close to each other, we went back and forth between each other’s homes, spent considerable time together like siblings… But that’s all it ever was—nothing more than that. You’re really quite the nosy one, aren’t you?”

“Heh heh, is that so?” Mr. Tame grinned in his usual sly manner. “I’d kinda like to have Mr. Kin treat me like one of his own siblings too—just once’d be enough.” “Then go become his sworn little brother or something,” Mitsu shot back, pushing herself up from the brazier to head upstairs—just as a rickshaw rattled to a halt outside the shop.

The refined woman nearing sixty alighted from the rickshaw, paid the driver, and entered the shop before addressing Mr. Tame: “Pardon me—I am Sen’s mother—I’ve come hoping to speak briefly with Madam here…” “Oh, Mother! You actually came!” Mitsu hurried out to the shop entrance to greet her.

The old woman smiled amiably and said, “I’ve finally come to trouble you. Even though I’m always neglecting to visit regularly, the moment I have my own business to attend to, here I come rushing over like this—really, how utterly selfish of me!” “Oh, do come over here—we can’t properly exchange greetings like this.” “Yes, well then, do forgive me—I won’t stand on ceremony,” she said, following Mitsu into the sitting room. “Regarding that brief postcard I sent yesterday…”

“You see, Mother, that postcard was delayed and only just arrived now.” “Oh, I see... It must have been my clumsy handwriting making it hard to read—that’s why it was delayed. Then it must have been difficult for you to read too, Miss Mitsu—after all, it was written by an old relic like me.” “No, that’s not true at all. I understood perfectly well—that’s precisely why I didn’t send a reply... Now please do sit down.”

Miss Mitsu attended to her guest with thoughtful hospitality—adjusting the brazier’s coals, serving tea and sweets with a warm expression—while Sen’s Mother waited until she had finished expressing gratitude for the previous feast and apologizing for neglecting to visit sooner despite her intentions. Only then did the old woman tap her foreign-made silver pipe with a clink, exhale a puff of smoke, and inch forward with restless urgency.

“The truth is, Miss Mitsu—the reason I’ve come to impose today—well, you see—it concerns that matter we discussed during your recent visit.” “What do you think? For my part, naturally—and Sen too has earnestly expressed her wish to receive your guidance—but… how has the other party responded?”

“The other party...” said Miss Mitsu, falling silent as she pondered.

The old woman watched anxiously before lowering her voice further. “Now, this is just between us—though of course you already know everything, Miss Mitsu—but even without discussing it... she’ll already be twenty next year. And as you well know, given our circumstances—with no proper preparations to speak of, and to make matters worse, being saddled with an encumbrance like myself—truth be told, if we let this opportunity slip away now, such chances will scarcely come again… This is strictly between us, Miss Mitsu, but I’ve been praying my heart out to Fudō-sama that this match might come to pass, you know.”

“Hohoho, Mother, you’re undervaluing yourself far too much. Poor Miss Sen—her grace and temperament are both beyond reproach. Were she inclined, she could marry into any household…” “No, that’s where you’re gravely mistaken. The other day when you visited, she seemed rather indecisive about it all—so afterward I gave her a proper talking-to. ‘You’re still young—if you’ve gotten some foolish notion that with that passable face and figure of yours you could land a wealthy marriage without lifting a finger, like some tale from a storybook—well, that’d be pure delusion! Not that I’d know about kept women’s ways, but in this hardscrabble world, you won’t find a soul—not even in Cathay or the Indies—who’d take a wife just for pretty airs and graces. In this day and age where folks care more about a bride’s trousseau than her poise, more about her dowry than her wardrobe, and ask first after her parents’ coffers rather than her age—I told her she mustn’t harbor such vanity, you see.’”

“But even in this day and age, you can’t dismiss everything so categorically, Mother. There may very well be marriages where people are taken with grace and temperament—such things aren’t unheard of in this world. If we go by what you say, it’d seem there’s no affection left between men and women at all! But even now—why, there are still those who fall head over heels, forgetting all about gain and loss in their passion. Don’t such stories appear in the newspapers often enough?” Mitsu retorted earnestly.

“Well, that’s certainly true. Why, even I often find myself wondering how such things can happen whenever I read the newspaper.” “Well, it’s a vast world—all sorts of things happen, I suppose,” Sen’s Mother replied dismissively, took a drag from her foreign-made silver pipe, then pressed on: “So then—about the photograph—have you shown it to the other party?”

“Yes, I showed it—the other day when I returned from your house, the person in question happened to come by at just the right time, so...” “And when you had him look at it, what was his response?” “Well, at that particular time... I was rather pressed for time, you see, so when he asked to borrow it, I simply let him take it... But given Miss Sen’s graceful appearance, I can’t imagine anyone would look upon that photograph and find it displeasing,” Mitsu replied with a strained smile.

“But you see, in that photograph, her eyes came out looking rather frightening...” “Nothing of the sort! But he did say... she does seem a bit too young, don’t you think?” “Yes, I shouldn’t have kept silent about that either—she’s made up so showily in it that she looks no more than seven or eight years old. To be perfectly honest, since she was born in February and is nineteen... I did hope you might have mentioned that to them as well, Miss Mitsu.”

“Of course I told him that! Hohoho—what do you take me for? Mother.” “When trying to help someone, would I ever neglect to mention their age? Hohohoho—what do you take me for!” “Mother.” “I’m terribly sorry for all this.” “Though you’re hardly someone as socially adept as all that, here I am acting strangely too—Hohohoho,” Sen’s Mother laughed. “Now that you’ve had him bring the photograph over, has there been any further word since then?” “Well, he’s... somehow always seems to have so many matters to attend to...”

“No, it’s not that—but you see, given how urgently you spoke about this matter the other day, Miss Mitsu, and yet there’s been no word at all until now... I thought for certain this must mean things have gone awry.” “Well then, it seems you haven’t given up hope after all,” said Sen’s Mother, forcing a hollow laugh. Miss Mitsu forced a wry smile. “But truly, at that time, the other party’s tone did seem rather urgent… No—regardless of that—this isn’t like other matters. I know you’re anxiously awaiting news on your end too. We can’t simply let this slide because they haven’t said anything yet.” “As for me—truth be told—I’ve been meaning to visit them myself for days now. But what with tending to the patient constantly, I simply haven’t found a moment to step away…”

Upon hearing this, Sen’s Mother seemed to notice for the first time. “Oh my, here I’ve been prattling on about my own affairs… Goodness me—how is the patient faring? Has there been no improvement at all?” “Well, ‘improved’ is hardly the word—today the doctor also...” Mitsu began before abruptly changing tack. “It’s simply a stubborn illness, you see.” “The nature of it, you mean? Even if the patient’s condition is... uncertain, you’re hardly in an ordinary situation yourself, Miss Mitsu. And yet here I am, bringing such a troublesome matter into all this…” Sen’s Mother trailed off, her face clouded with contemplation. She packed her pipe, smoked and smoked until finally she was overcome by hacking coughs, choking in agony—but once she’d finally settled down: “Miss Mitsu… this matter we’ve been discussing… it’s about a Mr. Kinnosuke, wasn’t it? Where is he staying now?”

“Well, he’s at an inn in Reiganjima, but… Let me think—since tomorrow morning is already… Mother, I’ll go there either tomorrow evening or the day after tomorrow around noon. I’ll manage to get an answer and swing by your place on my way back.”

IV

Kinnosuke was staying at a sailors’ inn called Shimotaya in Reiganjima. Yet this Shimotaya Inn was no pleasure boat establishment like those in the Fukagawa district—it served as lodging for sailors from every port in Qing China, whose Japanese-style sailing ships anchored from Shinagawa to Okawaguchi’s mouth. In its central parlor room—spread with a red woolen blanket and separated by a square zelkova brazier with stone-like finish—sat Kinnosuke facing Mitsu. Her freshly washed hair was swept back in a combed chignon, her thrifty mouse-gray striped kimono layered with a day-night obi of Chinese satin and chintz crepe, the ensemble completed by an indigo-dyed haori coat of Satsuma-striped silk—so elaborately attired that the inn’s maid might reasonably have mistaken her for some Konnyaku Island courtesan.

“You’re lookin’ ridiculously beautiful today,” Kinnosuke remarked, scrutinizing her outfit. “And keepin’ a rickshaw waitin’ like that—where exactly you plannin’ to swan off to next?”

“Oh, just a few other places…” Mitsu replied, her face flushing as though her conscience pricked at her. “So Shinzo’s doin’ better then? Seein’ you out gallivantin’ like this,” “Well, his condition doesn’t need round-the-clock watchin’… Besides, today they sent over a helper from the Tsukuda branch—that woman’s way more used to nursin’ patients than I am.”

“So, the patient ain’t feelin’ particularly better then?” “Well, not particularly.” “On the flip side, it ain’t gettin’ much worse either.” “Yes,” she nodded. “That sort of illness is bound to take its time healing, I tell ya. Shinzo must be feelin’ antsy too, but you ain’t exactly in an ordinary situation yourself.” “Well, it’s not like I fuss over every little thing the patient says, but even when I try my best like that, it still never seems enough. I tell you, there are times I just get so thoroughly fed up with it all. As everyone says—there’s nothing more important than having a healthy body.”

“But havin’ a body that’s physically fit but got nothin’ else to show for it—that’s a real problem, I tell ya. I wouldn’t mind gettin’ a bit sick myself if it meant havin’ even half the good fortune Mr. Shinzo’s got.” “My, what peculiar tastes you have! How could he be considered fortunate?” “Isn’t he fortunate? First off, he’s got money…” “What utter nonsense! Money? He doesn’t have a penny to his name! As for capital and all that—everything’s provided to us from the Tsukuda branch, you see. We’re essentially just managing one of their satellite shops, so to speak.”

“I don’t know about that, but what matters is Shinzo’s got himself a fine wife like you, Miss Mitsu… See, this here’s a fortune that money can’t buy, I tell ya.”

“Oh my, thank you so much. But I’m well past the age where such sweet talk would make me blush, so don’t worry—your flattery won’t go to my head. Feel free to lay it on thick,” Miss Mitsu replied unflappably, brushing back strands of her freshly washed hair that kept slipping loose. “Now then, Mr. Kin—about why I came here today...” “About why you came?” “To get straight to the point—about that photo from the other day, you know? What’s come of it?” she asked, fixing him with a piercing stare.

“Hmm, that one? She’s lovely.” “What does her being lovely have to do with anything?” “Ain’t nothin’ much to it.” “What d’you mean?! This person—didn’t you say you’d consider it proper and take [the photo] back with you?”

“That’s right.” “So, have you thought about it?” “Haven’t given it a proper think-through, but if you’re handin’ her over, I’ll take ’er.” “Take her if she’s offered… What kinda half-hearted answer is that?” “Ain’t sayin’ there’s no spark… But hell, stuck here moldering in some inn’s upstairs—feels like I’m just passin’ through on some lousy trip.” “Unless a man’s got his own roof an’ sets up a proper household, how’s he s’posed to take wife-talk serious-like, eh?”

“Well, I suppose so,” Mitsu replied with a nod, as though she’d grasped his meaning. “But are they in such a hurry for an answer?” “Oh, they aren’t particularly in any hurry, though.”

“There’s no need to rush—it ain’t like this thing’ll rot if we don’t hand it over quick, I tell ya.” “Of course not—it’s not like we’re dealing with summer’s ohagi rice cakes or anything… To put it plainly, even though the girl’s no spring chicken, she’s still a proper young lady through and through. Her folks might find better prospects if they wait a little longer, you know.” “Well then, let’s just have you wait a bit longer, I tell ya. First off, you—the damn matchmaker’s in that state, as you well know.”

“What do you think about the matchmaker being in that state?” “It’s Mr. Shinzo’s current situation, I tell ya.” “Ah, but if we keep saying that, we might never know when it’ll happen,” she said, looking down. Kinnosuke, appearing not to pay much heed, said, “I ain’t got a clue when that’ll be either… But since there’s no harm in it, why don’t we just try settin’ up the meetin’?” “Huh? The meeting?!” Mitsu jerked her head up as if startled. “Well… but listen—if we hold the meeting, we’ll have to settle all the follow-up matters straight away. We can’t just arrange it and leave things draggin’ on forever… So wouldn’t it be better to put it off without any particular reason for now?”

“Is that so? Well then, I’ll leave it all up to your plans, Miss Mitsu. I’m countin’ on ya.”

Kinnosuke poured hot water into the teapot, but since the tea had already oversteeped, he clapped his hands to summon the maid. Before long, the maid called out brusquely from beyond the veranda, “Did you need something?” while staring unabashedly at Mitsu’s figure. “I called ’cause there’s work.” “This teapot’s been drained dry—go brew a fresh batch.” “Yes,” the maid grudgingly bent her knees and, stretching one arm from afar to drag the tea tray closer while—

“Go ahead and wash the tea bowls while you’re at it.” “Ma’am, um… where might the lavatory be?” “The lavatory? “I’ll show you the way.” “The lavatory, ma’am.” The maid, holding the tea tray, guided Mitsu. After some time had passed—having washed and brought back the tea utensils spotless—the maid smirked oddly and stuck out her little finger as she asked coyly: “So… Is this your sweetheart?” “What? “Don’t talk nonsense!” “It’s no use hiding it. “Which geisha house?”

“A geisha? “Don’t talk nonsense! “She’s a respectable madam from another household.” “You say this and that, but...” “Even without any face powder, trying to look respectable with a combed-up bun or whatnot—merchants just have this unbearable air about them, don’t they?” “Which geisha house?” “Just spit it out already!” “Hey! “I told you she ain’t no geisha. You’re one pushy broad, I tell ya.” “You’re still hiding it! “If you won’t tell me, I’ll go ask the rickshaw man.”

“Is the rickshaw man saying something?” Mitsu asked as she entered from behind. “Oh!” The maid flushed crimson. “My, how dreadful of me! Well, no—I was just saying I wanted to ask whether rickshaw men can’t run without shaking their behinds… Teeheehee.” “You just allow me to prepare your bedding,” she said, using honorifics far above her station to mask her fluster, then clattered away as she was.

“What’s this about?” “What the maid said—” “Nah, just ridiculous.” “She was callin’ you some geisha from god-knows-where…”

“Oh, how dreadful…” “She wouldn’t accept that you’re no geisha but a proper madam from another household—insisted I was hiding it and said she’d ask the rickshaw man instead—and right then you showed up.” “That moon-faced wench, making such a fuss over the rickshaw man’s behind… Ha ha ha ha, she had me in stitches!” “But it ain’t like I’m put together enough for anyone to see me that way.”

“Oh, stop it! I don’t want to hear it!” Mitsu said affectedly. “But why would she think a geisha came to your place?” “That’s the funny part. That idiot’s got her own brand of stupid intuition—she’s spouting off that Miss Mitsu must be my old flame or somethin’. It’s so damn ridiculous I can’t even get mad.” Mitsu simply laughed and listened, then said, “Oh right—that reminds me—there’s this young man at my house now...”

“Hmm, the one in his thirties at that shop?” “That fellow Tame—he used to work as a clerk at the Tsukuda branch shop, you see—when my husband was ill, they sent him over to handle the client rounds instead, but now he’s got some strange suspicions about you and me—isn’t it absurd?” “He’s insisting that before I settled into Yoshishin, I must have had some sort of past with you no matter what.” “Huh? Why’s he diggin’ up stuff from before you settled into Yoshishin? Not like there’s any shady business between us—couldn’t care less what he says—but how the hell does he even know ’bout those days?”

“Well, he says he knew you back then—and knew about me too.” “Hmm—was there really some guy called Tame when I was in Tsukuda?” “He says you wouldn’t know him either—apparently he was working as an apprentice around there and came to know you—claims he often spotted us together at variety halls… What a peculiar man to have shown up at the house.”

“But that must be a real bother for you too, Miss Mitsu.” “Spouting such damn nonsense—if that were to reach Mr. Shinzo’s ears, he’d have to have his guts inspected for no reason!” “I won’t let anything reach my husband’s ears, so that’s not a problem… Mr. Kin, what time is it now?” she asked as if suddenly remembering.

Kinnosuke picked up the silver-cased clock placed in the tokonoma alcove and looked at it. “It’s a little past three-thirty.” “Ah, it’s fine, isn’t it?” “No, I can’t just do that—I still have other places to visit…” Mitsu began preparing to leave, then added, “Oh—is the photo from the other day free?” “Want me to bring it?” “Oh, that one was borrowed from somewhere else.”

Five

Mitsu’s rickshaw made its way from Reiganjima further toward Nakasu—Nakasu being where Sen and her mother resided—but according to what the old woman had said when visiting Mitsu the day before yesterday, that afternoon she had specified as either tomorrow evening or the day after tomorrow’s afternoon had already passed four o’clock; yesterday too they had waited in vain, and today as well it seemed things would not go as planned.

“Given she hasn’t come by now, I suppose she won’t today either—though when I saw Miss Mitsu the day before yesterday, her manner… Well, with a sick person to care for, she couldn’t spare a thought for others… but it was completely different from her determined manner when she last came to our home—the way we talked felt so distant,” Sen’s Mother was grumbling to her daughter when the sound of a rickshaw came, and just then Miss Mitsu appeared.

Since the mother and daughter ran a sewing school, they hastily cleared away the fabric scraps and thread remnants still scattered across the tatami room after their pupils had left, then urged her to sit on a cushion regardless. At their urging, Mitsu took her seat, and once the greetings were exchanged, the daughter retreated to prepare tea. “The day before yesterday... I fear I must have caused you great trouble by keeping you so long in conversation at the patient’s side like that.” “How is...?” “How is the patient?”

“It’s not improving at all—it’s quite troubling,” Mitsu replied tersely. “You must have waited for me yesterday. Though I kept thinking I should leave—I simply couldn’t free up my hands… Today I finally managed to slip away—made my rounds there first and came straight here.” “Oh my, I’m truly sorry to trouble you when you’re so busy—with caring for the patient alone being more than enough—to impose yet another burden on you…” “Oh, but I was the one who brought this up—there’s no need for you to trouble yourself over it…” Mitsu was faltering when her daughter Sen arrived with tea.

In that photograph she hardly seemed nineteen, but seeing her in person revealed a maturity fitting her age; though her complexion leaned slightly dark, she otherwise possessed flawless elegance—calm and composed, refined to her core, a demure girl through and through. She wore a Shinmeisan kimono with a merino yuzen-dyed obi, having changed only her haori jacket to a silk-crêpe komon-patterned garment left casually draped. Her hair was styled in a Western updo with a light dusting of white powder just visible enough to matter. “Miss Sen, please don’t trouble yourself—I’m not a guest here.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all.” “It’s not that I wish to impose—there’s no one left to impose upon me anymore,” Sen’s Mother laughed with a touch of loneliness. “But when I visited the other day, you treated me so lavishly…” Mitsu said, now gazing once more at her daughter’s elegance. “Truly, Miss Sen is beautiful no matter when one looks at her.” “Oh, you tease—Elder sister!” “But it’s true, I tell you.” “The bobbed hair also suits you so well, doesn’t it?” “It’s just messy because I can’t style it properly.”

Sen’s Mother interjected from the side, “Miss Mitsu, you’re the one who always looks beautiful whenever I see you. I suppose part of it is your fine attire and grooming, but you haven’t changed a bit from two or three years ago.” “How could I stay unchanged? Our trade being what it is—never enough hands—I can’t spare thought for finery or airs; I only grow more careworn by the day.” “Well, if being careworn is the mark, then I’d want Miss Sen here to grow properly careworn too… Oh, Sen—you there—go deliver those kimono sleeves from earlier in one trip, and while you’re at it, check the measurements for the men’s garments.”

“Ah, well then, I’ll take my leave… Elder sister, please stay and chat at your leisure. I’ll return shortly,” Sen said as she rose to depart.

After the lattice door closed quietly behind her departing daughter, Sen’s Mother shifted forward on her knees. “What do you make of it?” “Well... there’s been a slight change in circumstances.” “A change?” she pressed, studying Mitsu’s face with anxious intensity. “At first he seemed in such desperate haste, but judging by his manner today... He insists on first securing a proper house and settling his affairs before moving forward. It’s all become rather protracted somehow.”

“But surely setting up a house doesn’t require such effort or time?” “He insists it’s not so simple. Having sailed continuously until now, he doesn’t even own a pair of sandals to wear ashore. From his perspective, things don’t go as smoothly as we imagine they should.” “Still... In my humble view, establishing a household needn’t mean acquiring everything at once—from soot scrapers for year-end cleaning to three-tiered rice cakes for New Year displays. Why couldn’t one simply install a stove and set up a hearth to make a proper home?”

“And what’s more… his stars still aren’t favorable right now, I suppose. He did mention something like that.” “Then could you at least have him formally agree to the arrangement?” “Well, I did suggest that too, but he insists—it’s fine to settle things now, but since there’s no telling what unexpected troubles might arise between us later, we should just wait a little longer for now. That’s his position.” “Miss Mitsu,” Sen’s Mother said solemnly, “please—spare no courtesy—tell me the plain truth. Unlike other matters, if there’s no destined bond between them, then it simply can’t be helped—so even if Mr. Kin has refused, I truly wouldn’t hold it against you at all.”

“Oh, Auntie, I am telling the truth! He truly is saying that.” “So you mean he phrased it tactfully to decline, didn’t he?” “How could that be?” Mitsu protested, but seeing the old woman’s sorrowful expression, she paused before continuing. “If he had refused, he would have returned the photograph. Yet he says he wishes to keep it a while longer.”

“‘Keep it a while longer,’ he says?” Sen’s Mother seemed to reconsider somewhat. “So then, that would mean he hasn’t declined after all, would it?” “That’s exactly it,” Mitsu said, gently stroking her obi. “But how long does he expect us to wait? You don’t even know that, do you? After all, she’ll be twenty next year—if people start making offers left and right, then what’s already distant will grow all the more distant.”

“Auntie, really now! No matter what you say—how could anyone endure being made to wait a year or even two like that? So why not leave his proposal as it stands for now, listen to any other offers that come along, and settle on whichever seems even slightly better?” “But where would that many proposals come from?” “Auntie, you’re quick to say such things, but a girl like Miss Sen… anyone would want her. I still have other prospects in mind too—I’ll try sounding them out as well. This sailor isn’t bad per se, but his trade is dangerous through and through. And with that rough temperament of his… I do think someone more… compatible might suit a quiet girl like Miss Sen better.”

Just then, the daughter returned. The surroundings had dimmed unnoticed into twilight—time to begin evening preparations—and Mitsu seized Sen’s return as her moment to take leave. Though not yet mealtime and with no meal prepared, mother and daughter pressed insistently—offering her favorite eel if she stayed—but with the rickshaw waiting and worry for her homebound patient gnawing at her conscience, Mitsu steeled herself against their entreaties and departed.

When departing Nakasu, it was still bright outside—the tofu seller’s horn blasts, oil vendors’ calls, and busy figures of lamplighters filling the streets—but by the time the rickshaw crossed Eitai Bridge, electric lamps already glowed vividly along both banks, their light flickering faintly on the boats below. She arrived in Kiyosumi-cho at exactly five o'clock, where all household members had finished their evening meal and sat drinking tea. “Granny, how has the master been since I left?” “There were no particular changes observed in his condition.” “He’s been dozing constantly—only waking when his bedsores pain him enough to speak...”

“Right after you left, Madam, Master Shingoro from Tsukuda came by,” said Tame, the young shophand. “Oh? I see.” “So when did Father return?”

“Father did return just now.” “To clarify—about moving yesterday’s patient to Tsukuda, Master Shingoro said we should postpone it for now… Moving him now wouldn’t do the patient any good. And while Tsukuda’s branch is spacious enough, the comings and goings there are too hectic and noisy. So he thinks it’s better to keep the shop closed here for the time being. That’s what he told me to relay to you, Madam.” “He said Master Shingoro would be coming first thing tomorrow morning.”

Mitsu nodded and entered the adjacent room to change into her everyday kimono. The elderly maid went upstairs, the apprentice took the dining tray to the washing area, and only Tame remained behind—through the sliding door came the rustling sound of Mitsu undoing her obi.

“Madam,” Tame called out. “What is it?” Mitsu responded from behind the sliding door. “Madam, Master Shingoro from Tsukuda was askin’ where you’d gone.” “…………” “I told him you’d dropped by Mr. Kin’s place for a visit.” “…………”

“Hey, Madam” “…………” Receiving no answer, Tame quietly slid open the paper door and peered into the parlor to find Mitsu still wearing her everyday kimono—her obi still untied, her pale ankles exposed through the open hem—standing motionless with one hand gripping her collar. “Mr. Tame, did you really say that?” “Yeah,” he chuckled. “I don’t mind you saying it… but why add nonsense about me ‘visiting’ when you’ve no idea what business I had there?”

“So you did go to Mr. Kin’s place after all? Heh heh—figured as much when I set that little trap.” “My, how positively wicked of you.” “Heh heh.” Tame shuffled closer, his voice dripping with mock sincerity. “All in good fun, eh?”

“What are you— Get over there! How utterly rude of you to barge in while I’m changing clothes, isn’t it?”

VI

Shinzo, whose critical condition had led the doctor to tilt his head dubiously while muttering "today's sunset might be the limit," now clung to a thread of life through the sustaining power of injected medication. As the night deepened past midnight and into one o’clock, seven people—beginning with his wife Mitsu, his father Shingoro, his younger brother and sister-in-law, two other relatives, and a hired maid—lined up around his pillow, silently awaiting his final breath. The feeble patient’s breathing grew weaker with each labored gasp, his face increasingly revealing the pallor of death moment by moment, yet all seven watchers kept their tearful vigil in utter silence, not a single soul daring to speak. The gathering had fossilized into utter stillness, with only the sound of stifled breaths and the hired maid’s muted recitation of sutras.

No sooner had the patient’s lips moved faintly than he opened his dry eyes wide, shifting his gaze as though seeking something.

“Shall I give you some water?” Mitsu whispered by his ear. The patient nodded faintly. When she moistened his lips with water, Shinzo—now half-dead—called “Mitsu…” in a voice like parched parchment. “Yes,” she answered. Wiping her tears first, she brought her face close to his with the lamp in one hand. “I’m right here. See? Do you understand?” “I’ve burdened you…” “Must you say that again—” Her tears fell like scattered beads.

“Father…” “Father and everyone are by your side.” “Shinzo, are you lonely?” said Shingoro, blinking his aged eyes several times as he shuffled closer. “Please help Mitsu… Father… I entrust her to you…”

“Absolutely! You don’t need to worry about Mitsu—I’ll take care of her, so rest assured.”

“Mitsu…”

“Yes…” “You should rely on Father too… Father—since Mitsu’s still young—please look after her…”

“Very well! “I know that too—you don’t need to worry.”

“Mitsu…” “Yes…” “I’ve already asked Father to look after you… but you’re still young… You should settle things while you’re young…” “Husband!” Mitsu trembled and cried out through her tears. “I—I’ll always be your wife!” Tears glistened in Shinzo’s utterly parched eyes. Father-in-law Shingoro wept, the dutiful younger brother and his wife wept, and everyone in the gathering—down to the hired maid—wept as well. Then, not long after, Shinzo breathed his last.

＊　　　　＊　　　　＊

On the second day following, the funeral was elaborately conducted, and how profoundly must Mitsu’s figure—the young widow standing as chief mourner—have stirred people’s pity. Among the mourners were naturally Kinnosuke, and Sen and her mother had also come to assist.

Throughout the funeral proceedings, Mitsu had found her grief and loneliness half-distracted by the surrounding hustle and bustle. But upon returning from the temple—after her father-in-law Shingoro had temporarily gone back to the Tsukuda residence, and relatives had all withdrawn—when she faced the new mortuary tablet alone, only then did she feel an unbearable desolation that left neither body nor soul untouched. The hired maid, worn out from recent exertions, had gone up to the second floor and fallen asleep early in the evening, while the apprentice—exhausted from several sleepless nights—lay snoring loudly beside the shop’s brazier. The ticking clock and bubbling iron kettle on the long hearth stood out sharply, leaving the surroundings as silent as deep midnight.

As the new household lacked a proper Buddhist altar, the mortuary tablet had been placed in the tokonoma alcove of the main room, with candle stands, incense burners, and flower vases arranged atop a small table draped in white cloth. Mitsu sat before it in a dejected posture, her figure seeming to fade into the shadows as she stared fixedly at the incense smoke rising in slender wisps, when the young Mr. Tame returned from the bath. “Madam, you must be feeling so lonely.” “Please allow me to offer some incense as well.”

Mitsu silently yielded her seat. Mr. Tame shuffled closer to the small table, set up incense, rang the bell, and prayed with an air of piety—but upon withdrawing from his seat, he repeated the same words: “You must be feeling so lonely?” Mitsu shot him an indescribable look of disgust. “You know without me saying it.” “Heh heh, is that so? I was starting to worry things might not work out.”

Mitsu turned her face away and refused to engage. “Madam,” Mr. Tame peered at her face, “I hear the master left quite the will, didn’t he? Something about you taking a second husband?” “What of it?” “Not that I’m suggesting anything, but the master certainly died with flair until the very end… Must leave you with a clear conscience, eh Madam?” “What on earth are you talking about—whether my conscience is clear or not?” “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about!”

“Heh heh heh, no need to play dumb like that—you’ll be making the announcement soon enough anyway…” As he spoke, Mr. Tame shuffled his knees closer. “But Madam, even if the master did die with flair like that—well, if word about how things really were beforehand were to leak out, say even from my mouth, Master Shingoro from Tsukuda ain’t just gonna quietly accept it now, is he?” “What exactly wouldn’t Father approve of?”

“What do you mean ‘what’? If it ain’t about you and Mr. Kin getting together, then what else could you—” “Well! How dare you!” “When did I ever say I’d be with Mr. Kin?” “Even if you don’t say it, wouldn’t that be about it?” “Don’t talk such nonsense!” Mr. Tame put on a deliberately feigned look. “Huh? So my guess was off the mark?” he said, edging closer until their knees nearly touched. “If that’s how it is, there’s something I’d like to discuss. What do you say?” “Madam… Ain’t I good enough for the master’s will…?”

“Bastard! What the hell are you saying?!” Mitsu suddenly grabbed the incense burner from the small table and slammed it against Tame’s cheek, then spun around and dashed straight out the front door.

＊　　　　＊　　　　＊

Having fled, Mitsu immediately rushed to Shimotaya in Reiganjima and that very night forcibly convinced Kinnosuke, deciding to hastily have them at least exchange betrothal cups with Sen.