Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

On the second floor of a tidy bird shop in front of Fukagawa Hachiman Shrine, where ducks or something chattered softly, a man and woman sat facing each other across a brazier placed in the center. The man was a swarthy, angular-framed youth of twenty-seven or eight with rock-solid build, wearing a kimono with bold-striped floral-patterned lining and a haori of matching stripes whose collar slipped askew, its somber damask interior scattered with seal motifs. A navy Hakata obi tightened to single-stripe width bore an iron chain, while his crossed legs fidgeted self-consciously - he kept tugging at his kimono hem to conceal protruding shinbones as he chattered away.

The woman appeared to be twenty-two or twenty-three - her fair-skinned, charming round face featuring delicately defined features, hair arranged in a thick-looped gingko-leaf bun. She wore a kimono with an Isezaki collar, a black satin day-and-night obi of alternating eight-panel design, and a Yonezu haori coat draped loosely in the casual style.

The man drained his cup in one gulp. “Here, Ohikaru-san, let me pour you one.” “Well, I… Rather than that, let me pour for you.” “Whoa, it’s spilling, spilling! After all, it’s been three years since I last had you pour me a drink like this. When was that again? Must’ve been two or three days before I boarded the ship. When I went to your place to say goodbye, your father got all fired up—next thing you know, some Kiyomoto teacher with pockmarks shows up, we made a huge ruckus all night long, and in the end your old man started dancing around in his loincloth. See, he was so drunk he staggered around—that big frame of his plopped right onto the shamisen, snapped the neck clean off! The Kiyomoto teacher, well into his years, burst into tears… What a sight that was, still burns in my eyes… But your old man being dead now—so full of life back then—feels like some damn dream. What sickness took him anyway?”

“There was no illness or anything.” “He’d had his usual evening drink and went off cheerfully humming to the bathhouse when suddenly the attendant came running—said something had happened to your Father—so I rushed over and found him already cold there in the tub.” “It was a stroke after all... They say drinking before bathing is terribly dangerous.” “Hmm... Drinkers should be careful.” “And yet I love a good soak.”

“That’s true—Mr. Kinnosuke was always fond of scalding baths from the start, right? But when you’re drunk, you’ve got to be careful—it’s no trivial matter.” “No way! I sure as hell ain’t dyin’ yet—too damn early for that!”

“Of course! There’s no way you could die now. Speaking of which—how old did you turn this year again?” “Twenty-nine! Damn, that’s unbearable—next year I’ll be draggin’ my face into thirty! Ohikaru-san, you’re thirty this year, right?”

“Yes, you remembered,” the woman smiled. “I ain’t remembered nothin’!” The man grinned. “But anyhow, meetin’ here of all places—reckon you’d call that Lord Hachiman’s doin’. Truth is, when I came from Yokohama, I went straight to Tsukuda and called at your old house. But they’d already cleared out somewhere—even the neighbors didn’t know where—so you can’t fathom how damn disappointed I was.”

“When I heard someone calling ‘Ohikaru-san’ over and over at the torii, I thought it must be someone else and quickly turned around—and there you were, Mr. Kinnosuke! I was so startled.” “So tell me, what have you been doing all this time since leaving Tokyo until now?” “Well, it’d take too long to explain everything... Right after that, I boarded a ship and left Yokohama—spent from spring through summer the next year mostly chasing fur seals around Korea.” “However, that year turned out to be another miserably poor season for hunting, so with the captain leading discussions, we all steeled our nerves and set off to poach in Russian waters.” “But when luck’s bad, it’s truly bad—right there at Komandorski, what we suddenly came upon was one of their warships!” “We were just a regular sailing ship—couldn’t do a damn thing to escape or fight back. Before we knew it, they’d seized the vessel and strung all of us together like prayer beads. Then they left us with those natives there until their government’s patrol ship came around.”

“My goodness! That must have been awful! “So it’s no wonder there were no letters from you.” “Even if I’d wanted to send word, there was no way to do it, I tell you.”

The woman nodded. “What happened next?” “After that, before long a Russian patrol ship showed up." “But their vessel was packed full of cargo—said they couldn’t take us this round and told us to wait for the next trip. So there we stayed, stranded on that island.” “Looking back now, being left behind was a blessing—if they’d hauled us off then, we’d be rotting in some Vladivostok prison cell by this time.” “Then this damn war kicked off—to hell with Russia and all their nonsense—next thing you know Japanese hunting ships started swarming around Komandorski too. Once they fished us off that island, I’ve been working aboard those ships ever since… Reckon I was luckier than I deserved.” “Surrounded by those scruffy-bearded natives who didn’t understand a word we said, half-starved most days… Never once dreamed I’d make it back to Japan in one piece to see you again, Ohikaru-san.”

“Of course! I can imagine!” “As for me—though it’s ill-omened to say—there was no word from you at all! And when I asked around everywhere, they said they couldn’t even track the ship’s whereabouts. Oh, how dreadful!” “Mr. Kinnosuke—I thought either your whole ship had been blown away or it sank out at sea, and that by now you’d ended up as fish food—I was this close to holding a memorial service for you, I tell you.” “My goodness, you still managed to return safely after all that!”

The man, as if suddenly noticing, shook the sake bottle. “Ha ha, this gloomy talk’s chilled everything—even the sake!” “Ohikaru-san, you ain’t touched a damn bite! Quit standin’ on ceremony and eat proper-like!” he said while clapping his hands to summon the maid. “Hey there! Another bottle… Make it hot.” “And two more duck servings—toss in some sides too.” Soon after, the order arrived. The man lifted the sake bottle. “Now it’s hot—let’s pour one out.”

This time, the woman obediently accepted the cup. “Is that so? Then I’ll have one. Just a sip—only a little taste, mind you.” “What’s this sneaky business? You’re your father’s daughter too, aren’t you?” “But a woman who drinks doesn’t make much of a show, you see.” “Ah, who cares if people ain’t makin’ a grand show? Me, I kinda like a tipsy-eyed dame hummin’ a folk song or somethin’.”

“Well, thank you for the treat! So you’re quite the romantic now.” “Hey now, don’t go dodgin’ this. I’m dead serious here with you, Ohikaru-san.” “If you’re saying this to me, I’m afraid that’s quite unfortunate. Sure, my face might get red if I drink, but humming folk songs? Such dashing antics aren’t fitting for someone like Ohikaru-san.” “It ain’t like that at all. I’ll never forget—wasn’t that during the Kiyomoto teacher’s cherry-blossom viewing? When we met that whole crowd at Asukayama’s teahouse—geishas and rakugo storytellers tagging along—and they forced you to drink half in jest? You got roaring drunk but still stubbornly sang *Edozakura* or some such tune, amazing everyone. C’mon, you remember that, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes—that did happen, didn’t it? Speaking of that—wasn’t that the spring when I was nineteen? Back then, I was quite the tomboy… Ah, but those fun times will never come again!” she said wistfully, seeming to reminisce about her own bygone spring days. “Ha ha ha, you’re talkin’ like some damn old-timer now. Ohikaru-san here’s still in the prime of womanhood! The real fun’s just beginnin’!”

“No, I’m already at this age—it’s no good, you know.” “Well, men—even at thirty or forty—can stay young forever with the right mindset, but women have no grit at all.” “First off, those around us won’t let us maintain such youthful spirits forever.” “So rather than lacking spirit, women simply get the worse bargain compared to men.”

“Ah hell—gettin’ too damn logical here…” The man poured himself a drink and gulped it down. “Say, forgot to ask—where you livin’ now, Ohikaru-san? Your place?” “Me?” The woman hesitated briefly. “Still in Fukagawa.” “Know Fukagawa—which district?” “Kiyosumi-cho. Right by Eitai.” “So Kiyosumi-cho by Eitai, eh? I’ll come ’round.” “What’s the number?”

“Kiyosumi-cho, twenty-four.” “Mention Yoshida and they’ll know straight away.” “Yoshida?” “What’s this ‘Yoshida’ business?” “My husband’s family name,” she said, forcing a smile. “Huh?!” The man’s eyes widened as he stared at her face before forcing a bitter grin. “You’re joking?” “Oh, it’s true.” “Last autumn I married… You must know Yoshida Shinzō—he ran the Yoshishin fish shop in Tsukuda before…”

“Yoshida Shinzō! “Of course I know! “So Ohikaru-san—is it true?”

“Yes,” she nodded helplessly.

With a gruff “Hmph!”, the man’s face sobered completely as he clasped his hands and remained bowed, utterly speechless. The woman remained wordless for a time, simply bowing her head sorrowfully as she fiddled with the damask fabric at her knees. "Mr. Kinnosuke... You must think me such a pitiful woman hearing this... But with Father-in-law having passed away, and you—the one I relied on—being... well, as we just discussed... eight or nine times out of ten no longer in this world... With no proper relatives left to help... I was truly alone and desperate." “Then right when Yoshishin made their proposal, I initially gave noncommittal replies... But people kept pestering me about my age being what it was, until I finally found myself inclined to accept... Mr. Kinnosuke, you—not that it matters now—if only you’d sent word that you were safe... Though given how things were, perhaps even that wasn’t possible...”

“True enough—if that were possible, I wouldn’t complain…” He raised his face with an air of helplessness. “Look—whether you take a husband or not, I’ve got no right to say a thing about it. But… Ohikaru-san—you can understand what’s in my heart, can’t you?” “Oh yes, I know that all too well.” “If there’d been some oral promise between us—but there was never any such thing to begin with—and hearing your story now, every point makes sense… I can’t even find a way to resent you… But still—I resent you without reason…”

“…………”

“Not that you said it with any particular intention, Ohikaru-san—but that morning when I finally left for Yokohama, stopping by your place before departure... you kept telling me to wait for you. How deeply I carved those words into my heart as I set out! But when you think about it, anyone would say that much as empty flattery…” “Mr. Kinnosuke!” The woman exclaimed urgently. “That’s too cruel of you! I never meant it that way. True, I never put it into clear words like this—but I knew your heart, and you must have known mine. Yet now you bring this up…”

“Ah, never mind,” the man briskly shook his head. “We’ve known each other since we were brats—knew each other inside out. Yet here we end up in this strange fix. Must’ve been doomed from the start!” “Well—now that I see how things stand—damned shameful. Shooting my mouth off like that to a married woman.” “Ohikaru-san—don’t take this wrong—let’s wash this clean right here.”

“But when you explain it away so smoothly like that… I feel even more unsettled…” “What could you possibly have to apologize for, Ohikaru-san? The one who should apologize is me.” “But putting all that aside… you’ll still keep seeing me like before, right?” “Why? Isn’t that obvious?”

"Because I figured," he said with a lonely, faint smile, "once there's a husband, you wouldn't need some male friend anymore."

“Don’t be absurd! I’m not that sort of person!” the woman retorted vehemently, but then sank into deep thought. The man said with deliberate cheerfulness, “Then I can rest easy! Since I’m not exactly strangers with your Shin-san—let’s use this as a chance to get even closer. You know I’ve got no family to speak of either—let’s just say we’re kin now... Here—let’s seal it with another drink.”

She silently accepted the offered cup, took a sip, then set it down and wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her underkimono. "Mr. Kinnosuke—might I trouble you to hear a matter I wish to discuss?" "You've gotten awfully formal." "What’s this ‘consultation’ about?" "To get straight to the point—I was thinking of arranging a wife for you…"

“A wife?” “Well… Doesn’t that sound kinda strange? Like you’re saying I gotta shackle myself with someone quick or I can’t sleep soundly?” “Oh my, what a hasty assumption!” “You see, when you mentioned treating each other as relatives, it got me thinking… Since you’ll need to marry someone eventually anyway, if I found you a suitable woman and we became your matchmakers, we’d have reasons to keep consulting each other afterward. That’s why I made this proposal… Well? Would you dislike having us as your matchmakers?”

“No—it’s not like that. Having Shin-san and Ohikaru-san as matchmakers would be too grand for someone like me.” He began, “But matchmakers are fine though…” then trailed off, lowered his gaze, and fell silent. “Matchmakers are fine—but what’s troubling you?”

The man’s eyes sparkled as he said, “What do you think, Ohikaru-san?”

“Huh?” “Would there at least be a shadow of you in her?” “What’s with you! I’m being serious here!” “I’m seriously discussing this!” “I’m serious too.” “Well, let’s set aside the jokes—I’ll certainly find someone who suits your tastes from now on, so leave it to me.” “I’ll leave it to you—as long as she resembles you, I’ll take a liking to her.” “Stop teasing me! Unlike a dull-witted woman without even an otafuku’s charm—if it’s elegance or temperament you want—I’ll find you someone who won’t shame you anywhere you take them. So, start looking forward to it from now on, won’t you?”

“Well then—I’ll wait with that expectation. Hey Ohikaru-san—you’re just talkin’ away and aren’t doin’ anything at all. How ’bout it—if the sake’s a bother, I’ll say rice instead!” “No, I’ve already had more than enough of both food and drink. I’ve been eating without restraint since earlier, so my stomach is full.”

“But one bowl wouldn’t hurt right? I’ll join you too.”

“You’re still drinking sake, aren’t you? I’ve truly had more than enough.” “And besides, if it gets too late…” “Ah, of course—Shin-san must be worried.” “Don’t be so provoking!” “But honestly! Lately he’s been unwell and bedridden, you know.”

“I see. That’s no good.”

二

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 smooth-tongued flattery. Originally hailing from Tsukudajima, they had moved here less than two years prior when suddenly they began attracting regular customers and supplying both large merchant houses and local mansions alike. This unexpected success turned them into rivals among area fishmongers, with some muttering behind their backs: "What gives Yoshishin the right? That 'Evil Shin' shop—you can't digest them boiled or fried!"

However, in reality, Yoshishin’s owner Shinzō was neither a villain nor a saint but an ordinary merchant. His rapid shop expansion stemmed solely from having sufficient capital and consequently offering better goods at lower prices than competitors. His father Shingorō still ran a fish shop under the same Yoshishin name in Tsukudajima—a large establishment in that district. The shop thrived, its operations were well-managed, and to top it off, the mistress was beautiful—had things continued this way, Yoshishin would have enjoyed eternal prosperity. But worldly matters rarely unfold exactly to specification. For the past two or three months, the master had been afflicted by a persistent ailment. Initially diagnosed by doctors as a severe case of influenza, it had recently been determined to be kidney disease. While he had contracted the same illness four or five years prior—an acute onset that fully healed within about three weeks—this time it crept in gradually. Though prolonged, it caused less suffering than before; if he endured the throbbing pain around his lower abdomen and waist, it amounted only to occasional fevers and chills. For now, he simply took it easy, lying down and rising as he pleased. The mistress managed the accounts and shop with the apprentice, while purchasing and customer visits were handled by a young helper sent over by the father, who had entrusted everything to him.

Perhaps due to today’s poor catch leaving little stock, the shop had been emptied of every last small fish. As the young helper in pale blue sleeves scrubbed fish trays with diligence, the apprentice picked at sashimi scraps on the cutting board while sweeping the wooden floor with a short bamboo broom. The young helper had just finished washing one tray when he turned to look at the apprentice. “Sankō—when did the mistress head out?” “Hmm, let me see. I think it was right around when Tame-san”—the young helper—“was about to head out for client visits.”

"But even so, ain't this ridiculously late? Lately the mistress has been actin' strange—leavin' the shop unattended and restlessly runnin' about all the time..." "Oh, it's nothin'. With today's poor catch makin' things quiet here, she says she can't usually slip out for errands except at times like this."

“Hey! Who knows what kind of errand she’s really running! Listen here, Sankō—I’ll teach you a neat trick. Next time the mistress goes out, try saying ‘My, you must be enjoying yourself!’ She’ll slip you ten or twenty sen hush money without a peep.” "I don’t have to say stuff like that—the mistress gives me small change all the time." "Oh come on! What a dull bastard," he muttered to himself as the young helper began washing the next tray.

After a while, he spoke again, “Hey Sankō.”

“What is it? Tame-san.” “Look—there was that man who came by the mistress’s place the other day……” “You’re goin’ on about the mistress again, Tame-san?” “Quit messin’ around! You’re twistin’ this all wrong… Hey, that Kinnosuke guy came by the other day, didn’t he?” “Hmm—the ‘horse livin’ in the sea.’ That’d be the one who brought those big tusks as a gift for the master.” “That guy—he ain’t been back since then?”

"He ain't been around, seems like." "Liar! There's no way he ain't comin' round!" "Then—you saw him, Tame-san?" "I'm out on customer rounds daily—ain't seen 'im, but I usually guess right." "That so?"

“Exactly. He’s gotta be comin’ round pretendin’ to shop out front—whisperin’ secrets with the mistress where the master won’t notice, then skedaddlin’ off. Hey, Sankō—hit the mark, didn’t I?”

The apprentice made a puzzled face. “I ain’t seen nothing like that. ’Cause I don’t know of him comin’ round even once since then.” “You sure about that?” “Ah, really!” “That can’t be right,” said the young helper, tilting his head quizzically before suddenly scrubbing the tray with renewed vigor.

After scrubbing away for about ten minutes, he called out again, “Sankō!” “You don’t have to keep callin’ ‘Sankō, Sankō’ every single time—Sankō’s right here!” “Ain’t there been any mail comin’ to the mistress lately?” “Mail comes all the time.” “Not that it comes all the time—the kind the mistress reads alone without showin’ the master?” “Who knows—I ain’t been payin’ attention to that… Hey!” “Mistress!” “Huh?!” The young helper too turned around in surprise to find Mistress Ohikaru standing behind them, having returned unnoticed at some point.

“You’re working hard.” “Heh heh, didn’t notice you’d come back at all… Must be cold out there?” “What do you mean?! When it’s this warm!” she retorted, folding her umbrella. “Well, that’s just the weather for you,” said Tame-san, who had been acting somewhat bashful lately. Ohikaru entered the shop, 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 the Chichibu premium haori coat she had been wearing and placed it atop the chest in the parlor adjoining another tearoom, then—while tightening with both hands the slackened black satin obi tied in a loose knot over her Chichibu premium kimono with its half-collar—ascended to the second floor. When the sound of footsteps on the stairs ceased, Tame-san stuck out his tongue mockingly.

“Sankō, you knew the mistress had returned and kept quiet about it, didn’t you?” “That’s a lie! I was facing this way talking, so I didn’t know until then!” “Did she hear what I was talking about?” “She might have heard.” “Hey! What’ll come of this?” he said while sloshing a torrent of water over the counter. “Now listen, Sankō—once you’re done cleaning, get yourself over here. Hurry up and finish cleaning—we should get to the bathhouse while it’s still light.”

Afterward came the groaning strains of a street ballad and the scrubbing of straw bundles accompanied by water's relentless splashing.

On the second floor lay the master afflicted with kidney disease. A six-tatami room brighter than one might expect given its high windows and low ceiling contained a perfunctory alcove and an equally perfunctory hanging scroll, with a custom-ordered soapstone orb adorning a merino cloth mat. There sat Shinzō—around thirty years old—having thrown off his sarasa-patterned nightgown and crossed his legs atop a futon draped with a blanket. Though his sharply defined features suggested innate refinement, his deathly pale complexion and slightly swollen face—now twisted in a sorrowful grimace as he gingerly massaged his lower back—left any handsomeness void, the very vigor of his prime deepening his wretchedness.

Ohikaru sat facing him and asked, “Was there any change while I was away?” “Nothing in particular… Just the same throbbing pain as always.” “If only that throbbing pain alone could be quickly cured by the doctor’s power! If it’s too painful, shall I boil some konjac for you?” “Ah, I’ve got the heating pad on… And today, not a single bowel movement—tried taking a laxative earlier, but it hasn’t worked yet. Maybe that’s why my chest feels all queasy.”

“Oh dear—why don’t you try taking another dose of laxative then?” “Nah—I’ll wait a while longer. If there’s still no effect, we’ll do the enema,” he said, massaging his lower abdomen. “So—how went things with Osen-chan?”

“Well, I’d say it’s ninety percent settled—after all, her mother’s so enthusiastic.” “It’s only natural her mother’s enthusiastic, but what about Osen-chan herself?” “Well, she doesn’t have any particular opinion set in stone—it’s ultimately up to her mother. To be fair, from how that girl spoke initially, she seemed intent on marrying a salaried worker and apparently wasn’t keen on a sailor—but after I gradually explained he wasn’t just any ordinary sailor, but someone who does this and that, by the end she started asking all sorts of questions herself and seemed to be considering it. She has such a lovely appearance too, and with her fondness for reading and writing—always poring over newspapers and novels—I suppose she’s grown somewhat high-spirited.”

“But you’re mistaken to think she dislikes sailors just for being high-spirited. Those three-copper ferrymen count as sailors if they’re sailors, and riverboat stokers too—but then aren’t steamship captains and naval officers still sailors at heart? From what I hear about Mr. Kinnosuke, he’s quite the man—crossing every ocean there is, you might say. Who knows how much prouder a wife could hold her head compared to some salaryman scraping by on meager wages, bowing to superiors all day!”

“You’re absolutely right—I think so too. “First off, isn’t it carefree? Since the husband’s away for half the year—at most only three or four months ashore—the rest of the time she can live as she pleases, whether lazing about or whatever… And since they want someone with an elderly person on their side to receive support, where else would you find such a good match?” “If Osen-chan gets settled, that mother will have to either take her in or provide support—but well, most men dislike having such a burden attached.”

“Right—even I’d be worried. But if he were in Kinnosuke’s shoes, he’d fret without some elder around—what with him always off leaving a young wife alone... Hey Ohikaru, what about you? With your husband never home yet money coming in monthly—if your daily work’s just eating, sleeping, and lazing about, mightn’t you get notions of trying your hand at some affair?” he said while massaging his lower back, voicing this sickbed taunt.

With composed demeanor, Ohikaru replied, “Well, unless I were to become that person myself, I can’t really say.”

As she was saying this, the apprentice’s voice called up from below the stairs: “Mistress! Mistress!” “Coming! What’s all this racket!” “Mistress!” “I said I’m coming already!” The apprentice, apparently having finally failed to hear her response, came clattering noisily up the steep stairs and, from the top of the staircase landing—

“Mistress!” “What is it?! I’ve been replying this whole time, haven’t I?” “Is that so?” said the apprentice, blinking his eyes as he started to head back downstairs.

“Huh? Why are you leaving without a word? What did you call me for?” “Um, there’s a customer... That person who brought the horse bone the other day...” “What? A horse bone?” said Shinzō. “No, it’s definitely that Mr. Kinnosuke.”

“Yes, it’s about that Mr. Kinnosuke.” “How dare you speak of ‘Mr. Kinnosuke’ with such a presumptuous tongue!” “Yes, sir.”

"Ohikaru turned to Shinzō. 'What shall we do? Have him come up here?' 'Too cluttered here—better use the downstairs parlor.' 'Then we'll receive him in the parlor after all.' As Ohikaru began rising, the apprentice spun around and clattered down ahead of her."

When she stood at the shopfront to greet him, the guest proved indeed to be Kinnosuke as anticipated. Today he wore a navy striped wool suit with rush-woven trousers, a bird-hunting hat in hand, and followed Ohikaru’s guidance into the parlor. Behind them, the young employee Tame-san—having seen them off—clicked his tongue once in visible irritation before slinging a towel over his shoulder and heading abruptly toward the public bathhouse. Kinnosuke asked first upon taking his seat, “How is Shin-san’s illness?” “It’s still the same.” “So the pain still flares up in various places?”

“Ah… I do wish at least the flaring pain would subside... He must be suffering terribly himself, but truly, it’s unbearable to watch,” said Ohikaru with her beautiful brows furrowed earnestly. “Though they say this illness poses no threat to life itself—sooner or later it’s bound to heal, which should be reassuring—but with today’s agony being so severe, why, his body’s wasting away.”

"But still, having hope for recovery makes it bearable." "If you fret yourself into illness too, that'd be a real problem." "Thank you—but truly, I'm sturdier than I look," she began with a practiced smile. "You've come at an opportune moment today, Mr. Kinnosuke." "Truth be told, I'd planned to call on you tomorrow... But wait till you hear—I've found the most impeccable girl imaginable, perfectly suited to become your wife!"

“Well that’s a relief!” Kinnosuke laughed. “If she’s a match for Mr. Kinnosuke, she must be the prize in the candy wrapper!” “This isn’t some joke,” Ohikaru countered. “Here—I’ll show you the photograph...” She began rising from her seat. “Wait, Ohikaru-san.” He produced a cloth-wrapped bundle, cutting her off. “The photo can wait—I came mainly to visit Shin-san today. This might not look like much, but it’s easy on the stomach. Give it to him, would you?”

“Oh, I don’t know what this is, but I feel bad accepting something every time you visit.” “It’s rather cluttered up there, but would you go on up to the second floor?” “Alright.”

Thereupon，Ohikaru took the cloth-wrapped bundle and led the way，with Kinnosuke following her up to the second floor. After waiting for Shinzō and Kinnosuke to finish exchanging greetings，Ohikaru untied the familiar cloth bundle and showed it to her husband. A splendid paulownia-wood-covered box adorned with red and white ceremonial cords，labeled on the front as "Koshi no Mizore". “You—I received something like this.”

“I see. “Well now, Mr. Kinnosuke—you really mustn’t go to such lengths.” “First those valuables last time, and now this fine gift...” “Nah, ’s nothin’ worth mentionin’... Just a token for the sickbed.” “Well, since you’ve brought it, I’ll accept this one gratefully,” he said, “but from now on, let’s have none of these formalities... Else what should be family-like bonds’ll turn stiff as strangers’ manners...” Turning to Ohikaru, he continued, “You—have you spoken about Miss Osen yet?”

“No, the details are still…” “Then why don’t you go into detail?”

“Well then, I’ll just go get that photograph...” said Ohikaru as she went downstairs to retrieve it. “Ohikaru here keeps saying she absolutely must find someone suitable for you, Mr. Kinnosuke—she’s been searching obsessively these past days.” “How kind of you... I’m truly grateful.” “We happened upon someone just today... Since I’ve had some prior connection with her family, it feels improper for me to sing her praises... but truly, both her disposition and appearance are exceptionally refined... Let me show you the photograph now—” As he spoke these words, Ohikaru returned upstairs clutching the photograph.

“Here you go, Mr. Kinnosuke,” she offered. When Kinnosuke took it and looked, he saw a carte-de-visite style half-body portrait of an adorable girl whose charm surpassed ten ordinary ones—her hair arranged in a traditional chignon adorned with a decorative metalwork hairpin, wearing no outer coat over her Yuzen-dyed underkimono, the garment itself appearing to be a waterfall-striped silk weave that boldly embraced the merchant-class style despite her apparent age of nineteen or so, likely not yet twenty. “Well now, Mr. Kinnosuke—this should suit your taste, shouldn’t it?” Ohikaru said with a laugh, her speech uncharacteristically formal in her husband’s presence.

“Well now, she might be a bit too fine for the likes of me.” “Not at all—she’s more refined than the photograph shows. A quiet, unflappable girl—truly excellent.” “But could such a proper young thing endure being tied to a roughneck husband like me?” “I’ll stand guarantee,” Shinzō cut in, seizing the conversation. “That girl’s late father was a thoroughgoing wastrel who drank his entire fortune dry in his lifetime. Left no debts behind, mind you, but she and her mother endured wretchedness together—she’s been steeled by hardship since childhood.” “No ordinary miss to faint at life’s little troubles.”

"That may be true—once she settles into your place first off, Mr. Kinnosuke—I can’t imagine there being any hardships or sorrows she couldn’t endure." “Or Mr. Kinnosuke—are you perhaps planning something that even Mistress here couldn’t endure?” Uncertain how to interpret Ohikaru’s words, Kinnosuke flushed slightly and said, “Don’t be absurd!” “There ain’t no real reason for it… But just lookin’ at her—a quiet-mannered girl like that becomin’ some rough sailor’s wife… Seems downright pitiful.”

"But they've agreed and are insisting they want to proceed," "Hahaha, isn't that stretchin' it a bit, eh Shin-san?" "Yet they say the mother's quite eager about it. So how 'bout it, Mr. Kinnosuke—why not give it proper consideration?" said Shinzō with grave sincerity. "Yes, suppose I should," replied Kinnosuke with uncharacteristic earnestness. "Alright then—I'll think on it proper-like." "But Mr. Kinnosuke—that photograph now... At least tell us if it suits your fancy."

"I tell ya, being grilled like this is downright startling." “Well, as for her looks, there ain’t no complaints...” “Her looks are beyond reproach, but if there’s some other concern...” “Now, now, Ohikaru-san, you’ve gotta at least let me think it through... Fact is, I don’t even got a proper house yet—if I’m takin’ a wife, I’d need to fix up a place for her to sleep first, wouldn’t I?”

III

“To be frank, I had noticed such symptoms emerging during our previous examinations and gave due warning, but given today’s condition there can be no doubt—it’s uremia... Now uremia differs from ordinary kidney disease, being an extremely critical condition... What do you say, Mistress—perhaps you should have another physician examine him? If that proves my diagnosis wrong, nothing could be better.” After examining Shinzō’s condition—which had suddenly worsened over two or three days—the doctor came downstairs and spoke these words to Ohikaru. Indeed, even to untrained eyes, his state these past few days had appeared gravely concerning. Yet Ohikaru—who had clung to the blind belief that kidney disease would inevitably be cured—now found herself involuntarily paling and clutching her chest at the doctor’s grave pronouncement.

“Oh my! So if it’s become this uremia condition... does that mean it’s already untreatable?” “But since my assessment might be mistaken, you should have another physician examine him.” “Yes, I will have him seen by another doctor, but according to your diagnosis already...” “That’s correct. There can be no doubt—I’ve diagnosed it as uremia! However, other doctors might hold different opinions.” “Then what does this mean? If it truly is as you diagnose... if this is what’s called uremia...” Ohikaru grew increasingly agitated.

“If this proves to be uremia, it’s gravely dangerous... Mistress, I find empty comfort dishonest—I’ll speak plainly. Should it indeed be uremia, we must regard it as nigh incurable!” “...”

“In any case, have other doctors examine him. I’ll monitor his condition for another two or three days.” “Yes.” “Starting today, we’re adjusting the medication slightly—please keep that in mind.”

“Yes.”

The doctor left. After seeing him out, Ohikaru returned to the tearoom and collapsed heavily before the long hibachi, her eyes brimming with tears. Without wiping the droplets streaming down her cheeks, her chin buried in her collar, she remained lost in thought for what felt like an eternity—until suddenly noticing a moan from upstairs, she finally managed to lift her weakened body. But when she reached the base of the stairs, her chest tightened and tears streamed down uncontrollably, so she pressed her hands to her face and returned to the hibachi.

Then she called the shop boy and said, “I’ll watch the shop—you go upstairs and stay by the master’s side.” “Right—should I just stay there with him?”

“You don’t need to ask such things… If the master says he wants rubbing, then rub him—that’s what you should do.”

“Right.” "But last time I rubbed his skin raw and got scolded by the master..." he began hesitantly, but when he saw Mistress’s eyes red and swollen from crying, the shop boy—for some reason—made a deeply apologetic face before slipping away upstairs.

Muttering despondently to herself—"Given how the doctor spoke, it seems ninety-nine percent certain... But could it truly be so?"—Ohikaru wiped her eyes.

Just then, a voice called out “Post!” in the shop, but noticing her own tear-streaked face, she hesitated to go out. “Mr. Yoshida, your mail!” “Yes.” “I’ll leave it here.” After the deliveryman had left, Ohikaru finally emerged into the shop, picked up the postcard from the threshold, and returned to the tearoom—only to find it addressed to herself, the sender being none other than the mother of that girl Osen-chan. The message was an inquiry regarding the aforementioned marriage proposal, asking if it would be acceptable for her to call tomorrow to discuss the matter; it appeared the delivery had been delayed, as the postmark showed it had been sent the previous day.

Placing the postcard on her lap, Ohikaru gazed at it endlessly once more.

"If it truly is beyond treatment..." she murmured aloud after some time, her eyes glinting oddly as she scanned the room; swiftly folding the postcard on her lap into quarters and tucking it into her obi sash, she leaned against the brazier and began prodding at the embers. Propping one elbow on the hearth's raised edge while pressing her elegant forehead, she alternated between jabbing at the charcoal and smoothing ashes with a fire tong in her free hand, until even those movements ceased. Her unblinking eyes remained fixed as she watched glowing coals crumble to ash; perhaps warmed by the brazier's heat, her face flushed crimson while dried tear tracks lingered.

"If it truly comes to this..." she murmured again, repeating the same words. She took out the previous postcard from her obi sash and read it once more, but this time tore it in two and discarded it. "Mistress, has Sankichi gone out somewhere?" called a voice from the shop. Ohikaru finally noticed that Tame-san, having returned from his errand, was peering through the thousand-lattice partition. "Sankichi is upstairs now—did you need something?"

“Oh, if that’s the case… I just thought he’d gone out somewhere to fool around again,” he said, sliding open the partition,

“Could I have one fire ember?” “Could I borrow the brazier?”

Tame-san pushed out the shop’s brass brazier, and after receiving the fire ember, pulled it close and took a drag first. The lattice partition door remained open as he started talking to Ohikaru. “Mistress, how is the master’s condition?” “He’s not well at all—it’s so troubling.” “If this drags on, you must be feeling lonely, Mistress?”

“Lonely?” Ohikaru made a face of incomprehension. “Why?” “Heh heh, but you do look lonely...” he said with suspiciously squinted eyes, then shifted gears: “Speaking of which—Mr. Kinnosuke hasn’t been seen for four or five days now, has he?” Ohikaru silently gazed at his face. “What is he even doing here? It’s not like he was ever acquainted with the master before, was he?” “They aren’t particularly close acquaintances, but apparently they went to the same school as children and have known each other’s faces since way back.”

“Is that so? I thought he came to the master’s place through connections since you’re close with Mistress... Not that Mr. Kinnosuke would know this, but I used to work as a shop boy right near his house—I know him well.” “So, around when was that?” “Let me see... It must have been about four or five years ago—back when Mistress was still wearing her hair in a shimada style.”

“Well now—so you knew about me even back then?” “Well, I didn’t know much about you myself back then,” he said with a tooth-baring grin, “but I heard from friends—when you’d come to vaudeville halls with Mr. Kinnosuke—‘That’s Ohikaru,’ they’d say, ‘the girl who sings Kiyomoto so fine.’ And I figure Mr. Kinnosuke… being old pals and all… still can’t quite see you as some stranger even now.”

Ohikaru’s face flushed crimson—“Don’t speak such foolishness! Talking about old acquaintances or not seeing me as a stranger—as if there were something indecent between us—how dreadful that sounds!” “Heh heh, nobody’s listening—it’s safe.” “What? You’re still saying such things! Mr. Kinnosuke and I are merely acquaintances since girlhood—simply because our parents lived nearby, so we visited each other’s homes and spent time together like siblings... That’s all there was to it. You’re truly an incorrigible busybody!”

“Heh, is that so?” Tame-san grinned his trademark grin. “I’d sure like to have someone like Mr. Kinnosuke treat me as a comrade just once—even if it’s only once.”

“Then become Mr. Kinnosuke’s sworn brother or something!” Ohikaru retorted, abruptly leaving the brazier to head upstairs—just as a rickshaw rattled to a halt outside the shop. The woman who stepped down from the rickshaw was a refined matron nearing sixty. After paying the driver and entering the shop, she addressed Tame-san: “Pardon me—I am Osen’s mother. I’ve come hoping to speak briefly with your mistress...” “Oh, Auntie! You actually came!” Ohikaru hurried out to the shopfront to greet her.

Auntie said with a beaming smile, “I’ve finally come to trouble you. Even though I rarely visit under ordinary circumstances, here I am rushing over the moment I have business of my own—truly, how utterly selfish I am being!”

“Please do come this way—we can’t properly exchange greetings here.” “Yes, well then, do pardon me—I won’t stand on ceremony,” said Osen’s Mother as she followed Ohikaru into the sitting room. “Yesterday, I did send that postcard, but…” “That one arrived late—just now, in fact, Auntie.” “Well, is that so? It must be because my handwriting is so clumsy—that made it hard to read and caused the delay, I suppose. Then it must have been difficult for you to read too, Ohikaru-san—after all, it was written by someone as old-fashioned as me.”

“No, that’s not the case at all. I understood perfectly well, but that’s precisely why I didn’t send a reply… Now please do have a seat.”

Ohikaru showed consideration with the portable brazier, graciously serving tea and sweets while waiting for Auntie to finish expressing gratitude for the previous hospitality and apologizing for neglecting to visit despite repeated intentions—distracted by her own affairs. When this concluded, Auntie tapped her foreign-silver thin-necked pipe sharply, exhaled a stream of smoke through it, and leaned forward with restless urgency. “Actually, Ohikaru-san—the reason I’ve come to trouble you today is indeed regarding that matter we discussed during your last visit.” “What do you think? For my part naturally, and Osen too has expressed her earnest desire for your assistance in this matter… but what does the gentleman in question’s response seem to indicate?”

“The gentleman in question…” Ohikaru trailed off and fell into silent contemplation. Auntie watched with anxious anticipation before lowering her voice further. “Now this is strictly between us here—though of course you’re already fully aware of everything, Ohikaru-san, so there’s little need to discuss it—but she’ll already be twenty next year. As you know, given her current state of affairs—she has no proper preparations whatsoever, and to make matters worse, she’s saddled with a burden like me—so truth be told, if we let this opportunity slip, there likely won’t be another chance like this… This is strictly between us, Ohikaru-san—but I’ve been praying desperately to Fudō-sama that this match comes through.”

“Ohoho, Auntie—you’re selling yourself far too cheaply there. Poor Osen-chan—both her looks and disposition are beyond reproach. If she were to set her mind on marrying, she could go anywhere...” “No—thinking that way is gravely mistaken! The other day when you came over, Ohikaru-san, she seemed rather hesitant about it, so afterward I told her just that: ‘You’re still young—if you’ve gotten some foolish conceit from your passable looks and figure and are dreaming of marrying into wealth without even a dowry like something out of old storybooks—that’s precisely where you’re gravely mistaken! If it were handled by some matchmaker, I wouldn’t know—but in this cutthroat world of ours, men who take wives for their looks and grace don’t exist even in the farthest reaches of Cathay or Hindustan! In this age where people value trousseaus over grace, dowries over trousseaus—where they’d sooner ask about a bride’s parents’ wealth than her age—you don’t harbor such conceit at all, right?’ That’s what I told her.”

“But even in this day and age, Auntie, one can’t make such blanket statements.” “There may well exist marriages in society founded on admiration for grace and temperament.” “If we speak as you do, Auntie, it sounds as though no affection exists between men and women—but even now, aren’t there those who become utterly devoted through mutual attraction, forgetting all gain and loss? Don’t such accounts frequently appear in newspapers these days?” Ohikaru countered earnestly.

“Well, that may be true. “Well, I often find myself wondering how such things can be whenever I read the newspapers.” “The world is vast—all sorts of things happen,” Auntie dismissed airily, taking a drag from her foreign-silver pipe before asking, “Now then—have you shown the photograph to the gentleman in question?” “Yes, I did show it—the other day when I returned from your house, the gentleman in question happened to come by at just the right time.”

“And when he saw it, what was his response?” “Well, at the time… We were in such a hurry—he just took it when I asked… But with Osen-chan’s grace, there’s no way he’d dislike what he saw.” Ohikaru forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “But you see, in that photograph her eyes look strangely severe…” “Nothing of the sort! Though… they did mention she might appear rather too young…”

“Yes, I should have mentioned that as well—with such flashy styling, she looks no more than seven or eight years old in it. The truth is, she’s truly nineteen—born in February… I’d hoped you might have mentioned that to him as well.” “Of course I mentioned that. When trying to arrange a match, could I possibly not mention her age? Ohohoho, what are you implying! Auntie.” “Much obliged, oh, do forgive me. Ohikaru-san isn’t the socially deft type either, yet here I am making such a blunder—ohohoho,” Auntie said with a laugh. “Now then, since you’ve brought the photograph over, has there been any further word?”

“Well… he’s just… a man with so many engagements…” “Now if that’s the case—truth be told, when you described matters the other day, Ohikaru-san, it seemed things were moving urgently. Yet seeing there’s been no word even today, I’d become certain this arrangement mustn’t be working.” “Then you haven’t grown so disheartened after all?” Auntie forced a hollow laugh. Ohikaru answered with a strained smile. “But truly then—the way he spoke seemed so pressing… Well, regardless—this isn’t like other matters, and I know full well you’re anxiously awaiting news. We can’t just dismiss it because he’s said nothing yet.” “I’ve actually meant to go there myself for days now… but what with tending a patient, I simply can’t slip away.”

When told this, Auntie seemed to notice for the first time. “Goodness—here I’ve been prattling on about my own affairs… My word—how fares the patient? Has there been no improvement?” “Improvement? Today the doctor said…” She cut herself off abruptly. “It’s simply an obstinate sort of illness.” “The nature of it? Well then—while the patient’s state remains unclear, you yourself look quite worn, Ohikaru-san. To trouble you with this matter amidst such circumstances…” Auntie’s voice trailed off as she grew pensive. She packed tobacco into her pipe, lit it, repacked and relit—until violent coughs wracked her frame, leaving her gasping. When the fit subsided: “Ohikaru-san… regarding this matter we discussed… It concerns Mr. Kinnosuke, yes? Where does the gentleman currently reside?”

“Well, that’s an inn in Reiganjima… Let me think—since tomorrow morning is… Auntie, I’ll go over there either tomorrow evening or the afternoon after next. I’ll get an answer somehow and stop by your place on my way back.”

IV

The place where Kinnosuke was staying was Shimotaya, a sailors’ inn in Reiganjima.

However, this sailors’ inn differed from those pleasure boat establishments like Maigō House. It catered to mariners working on Japanese cargo ships that sailed up from every port along China’s coasts—vessels anchoring between Shinagawa and the mouth of the Ōkawa River. In the center of the tatami room lay a red woolen blanket, with a zelkova-wood square brazier placed between them—there sat Ohikaru facing Kinnosuke. Her hair was freshly washed and bound in a comb-wrapped style, wearing a kimono patterned with rice grains and mouse stripes over an obi of Chinese satin and chintz crepe suitable for day or night, with a navy Satsuma silk haori completing the ensemble—an outfit so elaborate that the inn’s maid might reasonably have mistaken her for someone from Konnyaku Island.

“You’re lookin’ damn fine today,” Kinnosuke said, looking her up and down, “keepin’ that rickshaw waitin’—you plannin’ to swing by somewhere else after this?” “Well, I do have a few other places to...” Ohikaru blushed as if feeling guilty. “So, does Shin-san seem a bit more comfortable now? When I see you out and about like that—” “Well, his illness doesn’t require constant care like that… Besides, today they sent over a helper from the Tsukuda branch—that old woman’s far more accustomed to nursing patients than I am.”

“So, the patient ain’t feelin’ particularly better after all?” “Well… not really.” “But then again, he probably ain’t gettin’ much worse either.” “Yes,” she nodded. “That sort of thing’s bound to be slow to heal, I tell ya.” “Shin-san must be gettin’ impatient, but you ain’t faring so great either, Ohikaru-san.” “Well, it’s not like I fuss over every little thing the patient says, but even when I do my best, it’s never enough—honestly, there are times I just get so fed up.” “Everyone says it, but there’s nothing more important than having a healthy body.”

"But for someone like me who’s got nothin’ but a healthy body and no other merits—it’s a real problem, I tell ya." "I tell ya, I wouldn’t mind gettin’ a little sick myself if I could have even half of Shin-san’s good fortune." "My, what peculiar taste you have." "How could he be considered fortunate?"

“Ain’t he fortunate—what with havin’ money in the first place…” “You must be joking! Do you think we have even a single penny? As for capital or anything else, we’re having it all sent over from the Tsukuda branch—we’re essentially just managing a branch store for them.” “I ain’t sure ’bout that, but anyhow—Shin-san’s got himself a fine wife in Ohikaru-san… See, that’s a fortune money can’t buy.” “Oh, thank you very much. But I’m well past the age to blush at such flattery—you can heap on compliments without fear of me getting conceited,” said Ohikaru without so much as a flicker, brushing up loose strands from her freshly washed hair as she continued, “Now then, Mr. Kinnosuke—about why I came today—”

“What brings you here?” “It’s about that matter we discussed—the photograph. How does it stand?” She fixed him with a piercing gaze. “Hmm, that one? She’s comely enough.” “Comely—what of it?”

“Ain't got much to say 'bout it.” “What do you mean?! This girl—didn't you say you'd think it over and take her back with you?” “That's right.” “So have you thought about it?” “Haven't even thought 'bout it—but if you're handin' her over, I'll take her.”

“Saying you’ll take her if she’s offered—what a completely lackluster response.” “Nah, it ain’t that I’m lackluster or nothin’… It’s just that I’m stuck cooped up here on this inn’s second floor—feels like I’m on some damn trip or somethin’.” “Well, unless I get myself a house and set up a proper household, this whole wife business ain’t gonna turn serious, right?” “Well, I suppose so,” Ohikaru nodded as if comprehending his point. “But is the other side actually in a hurry for an answer?”

“The other side isn’t particularly in any hurry, though.” “Even if we don’t rush, it ain’t like this thing’s gonna rot if we don’t hand it over quick, y’know.” “Of course—it’s not like we’re dealing with summer ohagi rice cakes that’ll go bad… To put it plainly, even though the daughter’s gettin’ on in years, she’s still a proper young lady through and through. Her parents might prefer waitin’ a while longer before entertainin’ any hopes.” “Well then, let’s just have you wait a bit longer, shall we? First off—you—the damn matchmaker’s already in that state, ain’t she?”

“How about the matchmaker being in that state?” “Shin-san’s current situation.” “Ah, but if we keep harping on that, we might never see it through,” she said with downcast eyes. Kinnosuke replied with an air of indifference, “Hell if I know when it’ll happen either… But since it ain’t no trouble, why not just go through with the damn meetin’?” “What? A meeting?!” Ohikaru jerked her face up in surprise. “Well... you see, but if we go through with the meeting, we’ll have to settle the follow-up right away. We can’t just leave the meeting hanging and keep dragging things out forever... So maybe it’s better to just delay it without any fuss.”

“Is that so? Well then, I’ll leave everythin’ up to you, Ohikaru-san. You handle it.”

Kinnosuke poured hot water into the teapot, but as the tea had already steeped through, he clapped his hands to summon the maid. Before long, “What do you need?” came the maid’s voice from rudely outside the veranda as she inquired about their needs, all while scrutinizing Ohikaru’s figure. “I called you because there’s work to do. Empty out this teapot and make a fresh brew.” “Yes,” the maid finally knelt down, extending one hand from afar to pull the entire tea tray closer while adding, “While I’m at it, I’ll wash the teacups too.”

“I’ll wash the tea bowls while I’m at it.”

“Big sis, um… where’s the toilet?” “The toilet?” “I’ll show you the way.” “The privy.” The maid, holding the tea tray, guided Ohikaru. After some time, she returned with the tea utensils neatly washed and, smirking oddly, stuck out her pinky finger. “So, is she your sweetheart?”

“What? Don’t talk nonsense!” “Hidin’ it won’t work. Which geisha house?” “A geisha? Don’t talk nonsense! She’s a proper mistress from another household.” “That’s what they all say. Even without powder and tryin’ to look decent with some fancy bun, you merchants reek of showiness. Which geisha? Quit hidin’ and spit it out!”

“Hey! Ain’t I told ya she ain’t no geisha? Quit houndin’ me already!” “You’re still hidin’ it! If you won’t say it, I’ll go ask them rickshaw pullers!”

“Are the rickshaw pullers saying something?” Ohikaru entered from behind. “Oh!” The maid turned crimson. “I do beg your pardon. I was merely wondering whether rickshaw men can’t run without wagging their tails… hohoho.” “Let me prepare your bedding,” she added with forced decorum to mask her fluster, then clattered away in a manner wholly unbefitting her station.

“What’s this about?” “What was the maid talking about?” “Oh, it’s just nonsense.” “She kept insisting you were some geisha from who-knows-where…” “How awful…” “She won’t accept that you’re no geisha but a proper mistress from another house! Kept sayin’ I must be hidin’ somethin’, so she’d go ask the rickshaw pullers—right when you came back all sudden-like.” “That Otafuku wench, actin’ all flustered over some nonsense about rickshaw pullers’ backsides… Ha ha ha ha, damn near split my sides laughin’.” “But it’s not like she could act so flashy as to be seen that way.”

“Stop it! I don’t want to hear this,” Ohikaru said with affected irritation. “But why would she think a geisha came to your place?!”

“That’s the funny part. The fool’s got her own fool’s logic—she’s blabbering that Ohikaru-san must be my lover or something. It’s so damn ridiculous I can’t even get mad.” Ohikaru simply laughed as she listened, then said, “Oh right—speaking of that, there’s this young man at our place now…” “Hmm, the one in his thirties at that shop?” “That fellow Tame—he was working as an employee at the Tsukuda branch shop, you see. While my husband was ill, they sent him over to handle the client rounds instead. But now he’s gone and started acting all suspicious about you and me—it’s just absurd. Before I settled into Yoshishin, he’s convinced there must’ve been something between you and me.”

“Huh? Why’s he diggin’ into stuff ’bout before you settled in?—Not like we’ve got any shady business between us—say what ya want—but how’s that guy even know ’bout them days?”

“Well, you see—he apparently knew you well back then, and claims to know about me too.” “Hmm… When I was in Tsukuda, was there really some guy named Tame?” “He says you probably wouldn’t know him either, but apparently he was working as an errand boy around there and got to know you—claims he often saw us together at variety halls… What a strange fellow to have come to the house.”

"But you must find this troublesome too." "He’s spoutin’ such stupid nonsense—if Shin-san gets wind of it, he’ll be diggin’ where it don’t even hurt." "I won’t let anythin’ reach Shin-san’s ears, so that’s fine—but Mr. Kinnosuke, what time is it now?" she asked, as if struck by sudden recollection. Kinnosuke picked up the silver-rimmed clock from the alcove. "Little past three-thirty." "Ah, don’t matter none."

“No, I can’t stay like this—I still have other places to visit…” Ohikaru began preparing to leave, then added, “Oh—about that photograph from before—is it free?” “Wanna take it?” “Oh, that one was just borrowed from elsewhere.”

V

Ohikaru's rickshaw headed from Reiganjima further toward Nakasu—the area where Osen and her mother lived—but according to what the old woman had said when visiting Ohikaru the day before yesterday about meeting tomorrow evening or the afternoon of the day after tomorrow, that afternoon was already past four o'clock; yesterday too they had wasted the day waiting in vain, and today as well it seemed the arrangement would prove unreliable. "Since she hasn't come by now, she must not be coming today either. That Ohikaru-san's manner when I visited the day before yesterday—well, tending to a sick person leaves no room for others' concerns—but it was completely different from her earnestness when she last came to our house. The whole conversation felt so distant." Just as the old woman was airing these complaints to her daughter, the sound of a rickshaw arrived—precisely when Ohikaru appeared.

Since the mother and daughter worked as sewing instructors, they hurriedly cleared away the fabric scraps and thread bits still littering the tatami room—left behind after their young pupils had departed—and somehow managed to invite her to sit on a cushion. Following their invitation, Ohikaru took her seat. Once their mutual greetings were concluded, the daughter withdrew to prepare tea. "My deepest apologies for… staying so long at your patient’s place the day before yesterday. I must have caused you such trouble." "How is he faring?" "How is the patient faring?"

“He’s not doing well at all, I’m afraid,” Ohikaru replied tersely. “You must have waited for me yesterday. Even though I kept thinking I should go out, I simply couldn’t free up my hands… Today I finally managed to get away—went over there first and came straight here.”

“Oh my, I’m truly sorry for troubling you during such a busy time—when caring for the patient alone must already be quite enough—to add yet another burden…” “Oh—it’s a matter I brought up myself, so there’s no need to apologize or anything…” Ohikaru was stammering when her daughter Osen brought in the tea. In that photograph she hardly seemed nineteen, but seeing her in person revealed a maturity fitting her age—her complexion slightly dark yet otherwise flawless in elegance, a calmly composed girl of refined modesty. She wore a Shinmeisen kimono with a merino yūzen obi, having changed only her haori jacket for a silk-crepe komon-patterned overgarment, her hair styled in a Western chignon and lightly powdered to avoid standing out.

“Osen-chan, please don’t stand on ceremony—it’s not like I’m a guest.” “Oh, it’s nothing at all.” “Not that anyone would mind me anyway,” the old woman laughed with a touch of loneliness. “But when I visited the other day, you treated me so lavishly...” Ohikaru gazed anew at her daughter’s graceful appearance. “Truly, Osen-chan—you’re beautiful every time I see you.” “Oh my—you’re such a tease, Elder Sister!”

“But it’s true, you know. The Western-style chignon suits you so well!” “It just won’t stay properly tied—that’s why it looks strange.” “It’s you who remains beautiful whenever I see you, Ohikaru-san,” interjected the old woman from beside them. “Your fine attire must contribute somewhat, but you haven’t changed a bit these past two or three years.” “How could I not change? With this trade being what it is—short on help, no time for proper dress or manners—I’m just turning into some grubby old crone.”

“Well, if being a grimy old thing is so desirable, I’d want Osen to become one too… Oh—Osen, you there—go deliver that kimono from earlier in a hurry, and while you’re at it, ask about the measurements for the men’s garments.” “Well then, I’ll take my leave… Elder Sister, please take your time talking. I’ll return shortly,” said Osen as she stood to leave. After the lattice door closed quietly behind her departing daughter, the old woman leaned forward. “What do you think?”

“Well… the situation has altered somewhat.” “Changed, you say?” she pressed with concern, eyes fixed on her interlocutor. “Initially it seemed extremely urgent, but from today’s manner of speaking, he wants to first secure a residence and properly establish himself before proceeding… It’s turned into such a drawn-out affair.” “But acquiring a house needn’t require much time or effort, surely?”

“But he says it’s not so easily done. After all, he’s spent his whole life aboard ships—on land, he doesn’t even own a proper pair of geta. Given that, from his perspective, things aren’t progressing as we’d planned.” “But you see...” “In my view—just because one acquires a house doesn’t mean they must buy everything at once, from year-end soot scrapers to those triple stands for New Year’s mirror rice cakes. Installing a hearth, placing a long brazier—there’s nothing particularly difficult about making a proper home.”

“And what else could it be… The stars just aren’t aligned yet.” “He mentioned that as well.”

“If you could at least settle the formal agreement…” “Well, I did say that too, but he says while it’s fine to settle things now, since unexpected problems neither of us could imagine might still arise between us later, we should just wait a little longer—that’s how he puts it.”

“Ohikaru-san,” the old woman said solemnly, “please speak the truth without reserve. Unlike other matters, if there’s no marital bond to be had, then so be it. Just because the gentleman has declined, I won’t hold it against him in the slightest.”

“Oh, Mother—I’m telling the truth! The gentleman over there truly said that.” “In other words, he used that as a diplomatic excuse to refuse, didn’t he?” “How could such a thing be possible?” she retorted, but seeing the old woman’s pained expression, she paused before adding, “If he’d refused, he’d have returned the photograph—yet he says he wants to keep it longer.”

“He wants to keep it a bit longer?” Mother seemed to reconsider slightly. “Then that means he hasn’t refused after all, has he?”

“Exactly so,” said Ohikaru, gently stroking her obi. “But we still don’t know how long he intends to make us wait, do we? She’ll be twenty next year—once suitors start coming in earnest, being unmarried will only grow more irreversible.” “Oh, Mother! However could you tolerate being made to wait a year or two like that? Let’s keep his proposal as it stands—if other offers arise, you should hear them out and settle on whichever seems even slightly preferable.”

“Where would so many proposals come from all of a sudden?”

“Mother, you’re quick to say such things, but a good girl like Osen-chan… why, anyone would want her. I also have other prospects in mind, so I’ll try discussing that avenue as well. This current one isn’t bad in itself, but given that a sailor’s trade is dangerous—and he does have something of a rough temperament—I can’t help thinking someone a bit more… settled would suit a quiet girl like Osen-chan.”

At that moment, the daughter returned. As the surroundings grew dim and it became time to begin evening preparations, Ohikaru took Osen's return as her cue to take her leave. Though it was indeed dinner time with nothing special prepared, the mother and daughter persistently urged her to stay—offering to order Ohikaru-san's favorite eel—but with the rickshaw waiting and concern for the housebound patient weighing on her mind, Ohikaru firmly declined and departed.

When departing Nakasu, the outside remained bright - tofu sellers' horns blared through streets where oil vendors' cries mingled with lamplighters' hurried movements - yet by the time the rickshaw traversed Eitai Bridge, electric lamps already blazed vividly along both banks while boats twinkled with scattered lights.

Arriving in Kiyosumi-cho at exactly five o'clock, all the household members had finished their evening meal and were drinking tea. “Granny, how has the master been since I left?” “I haven’t noticed any particular changes in his condition.” “He’d been dozing off most of the time, only waking now and then when his bedsores pained him…” “When you went out, Mistress, Master from Tsukuda came right away,” said Tame-san, the young employee.

“Oh, really? So when did Father return?” “He’d just returned moments ago. About yesterday’s discussion of moving the patient to Tsukuda—they’ve decided to postpone it for now… Moving him now wouldn’t be good for his condition. And while the Tsukuda branch does have ample space, there’s too much coming and going—it’s rather hectic. So they think it’s better to temporarily close this shop instead. That’s what I was told to tell you, Mistress. He said he’ll be coming first thing tomorrow morning.”

Ohikaru nodded and entered the next room to change her kimono. The hired help went upstairs; the errand boy took the dining tray to the washing area; only Tame-san remained behind. The rustling sound of Ohikaru untying her obi could be heard through the sliding door.

“Mistress,” Tame-san called out. “What is it?” came Ohikaru’s reply from beyond the sliding door. “The master from Tsukuda was asking where you’d gone,” he said. “……” “I told him you went off to visit Mr. Kinnosuke for fun.” “……”

“Hey, Mistress.” “……” When there was no answer, Tame-san quietly slid open the paper door and peered into the tatami room to find Ohikaru still wearing her everyday kimono—the obi untied, the hem fallen open to reveal pale white ankles—grasping her collar with one hand as she stood motionless. “Tame-san, did you truly say such a thing?” “Yeah,” he laughed. “I don’t mind you saying it… but why invent unnecessary details about me going for fun when you know nothing of my business there?”

“So you did go to Kinnosuke’s place after all?” “Heh heh—figured as much. Just laid a little snare.” “How positively wicked of you!” “Heh heh... All for your enjoyment...” Tame-san inched closer with scraping movements. “Hey—get over there! How utterly shameless to intrude while someone’s changing clothes!”

VI

Shinzō, whose critical condition had led the doctor to tilt his head dubiously at the prognosis that today’s sunset might mark the limit, barely sustained a tenuous thread of life through the medicinal power of injections. As night deepened past twelve and then one o'clock, seven people—starting with his wife Ohikaru, along with his father Shingorō, his younger brother and sister-in-law, two other close relatives, and a hired elderly woman—gathered around his pillow, waiting solely for him to draw his last breath. The feeble patient’s breathing grew weaker with each labored gasp, his face revealing more deathly pallor by the moment—all present watched through tear-filled eyes, not a soul uttering a word. The gathering fell as silent as fossils, the only sounds being stifled sniffles and the hired elderly woman softly reciting Buddhist chants.

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?” Ohikaru asked by his ear. The patient faintly nodded.

When she moistened his mouth with water, Shinzō—half-dead—called out in a withered, parched voice, "Ohikaru…" "Yes," answered Ohikaru, first wiping her tears before bringing her face close to the lamp in her hand. "I'm right here, see? Do you understand?" "I've burdened you…"

“You’re saying such things again…” Ohikaru’s tears streamed down. “Father...” “Father and everyone are here by your side.” “Shinzō… lonely?” Shingorō blinked his aged eyes several times and shuffled closer. “Please… support Ohikaru… Father… I entrust her… to you…” “I’ll take care of it! Don’t you worry about Ohikaru—I’ll take care of her, so rest easy.”

“Ohikaru…” “Yes…” “You must depend on Father… Father, since Ohikaru is still young, you must look after her…”

“Alright! I know that too, so don’tcha worry none.”

“Ohikaru…” “Yes…” “I’d already asked Father... but you’re still young... Best to settle matters while you’re still young...” “Shin-san!” Ohikaru cried out, her body trembling through tears. “I—I’ll remain your wife forever!” Tears glistened in Shinzō’s parched eyes. Shingorō the father-in-law wept; his obligated younger brother and sister-in-law wept; and the entire gathering—down to the hired elderly woman—all wept. Then shortly after, Shinzō drew his final breath.

＊　　　　＊　　　　＊

On the second day after, the funeral was grandly conducted, and how the figure of Ohikaru—the young widow standing as chief mourner—must have drawn people’s pity. Among the mourners were naturally Kinnosuke, and Osen and her mother also came to help.

Until the funeral concluded, Ohikaru had been half-distracted from her sadness and loneliness by the surrounding hustle and bustle. But upon returning from the temple—as her father-in-law Shingorō temporarily went back to the Tsukuda house, and relatives withdrew one after another—when she faced the new memorial tablet alone, it was only then that she felt an unbearable loneliness engulfing both her body and world. The hired elderly woman, exhausted from recent exertions, had gone upstairs to sleep early this evening, while the apprentice—suffering two or three days of sleep deprivation—lay snoring loudly beside the shop’s brazier. The sounds of the clock and the boiling iron kettle on the long hearth stood out sharply, rendering the surroundings as silent as midnight.

Since the new household lacked a proper Buddhist altar, the memorial tablet had been placed in the alcove of the formal room, arranged atop a small desk draped in white cloth with a candle stand, an incense burner, and a flower vase. Ohikaru sat before it, her listless figure appearing almost insubstantial as she stared fixedly at the thin trails of incense smoke rising—when Tame-san returned from the bathhouse. “Mistress, you must be feeling so lonely.” “Mistress, please allow me to offer incense as well.”

Ohikaru silently yielded her seat. Tame-san shuffled closer to the small desk, set up incense sticks, rang the bell, and bowed with feigned reverence—but when he withdrew from the seat, he repeated, “You must be feeling so lonely?” Ohikaru’s eyes filled with indescribable loathing. “You don’t need to say it—I already know.” “Heh heh, is that so? Well, I just thought I’d check on you again.” Ohikaru turned away and would not engage. Peering into her face, Tame-san said, “Mistress, they say the Boss left instructions for you to take a second husband, eh?”

“What of it?” “Not that I’m doing anything, but the Boss really kept up his style right to the end… So I suppose you’re sleeping well now, Mistress?” “What are you going on about—whether I sleep well or not?” “I don’t understand at all!” “Heh heh, no need to act clueless—it’ll be announced soon enough anyway…” said Tame-san, inching his knees forward. “But Mistress, even if the Boss did die with flair—well, if word got out through say... my mouth... that this situation’s been brewing all along, the Master from Tsukuda wouldn’t just sit quiet and let it pass, now would he?”

“What exactly wouldn’t Father approve of?” “What do you mean ‘what’? If it’s not about you and Mr. Kinnosuke getting together, then what else could you...”

“Well! You have some nerve.” “When did I ever say I’d be with Mr. Kinnosuke?” “You may not say it, but that’s about the size of it?” “What foolish things you’re saying!” Tame-san put on an air of feigned ignorance. “Hmm, so my guess was off?” he said, edging closer until their knees touched. “In that case, there’s something I’d like to discuss. How about it? “Mistress, am I not good enough for the Boss’s dying wish…?” “Damn you! “What the hell are you saying?!”

Ohikaru suddenly grabbed the incense burner from the small desk, struck Tame-san across the cheek, then pivoted sharply and dashed out into the street.

＊　　　　＊　　　　＊

Ohikaru dashed out and immediately rushed to Shimotaya in Reiganjima; that very night, she forcibly convinced Kinnosuke and decided to hurriedly have him perform at least a temporary cup exchange with Osen.