Pathway to Japanese Literature

Characters

Susumu Oshikawa 31

Naruko (Wife) 24

Rokurō Mochiyama 32

Wife Nazoe 25

Yōyōken Innkeeper 35

Surisawa 60

Paper Supplier 25

Printer 18

Bookbinder 45

Hiko 16

LOCATION

A two-story house in Tokyo’s backstreets.
A small publishing house without even a telephone - Hokkyoku Shoin, serving as both office and residence.
The downstairs consisted of three rooms including the entrance hall. In the central eight-tatami space stood two tables arranged side by side - this was where Susumu Oshikawa, the master of the house, conducted his business affairs.
Around the room, towering piles of books.

I

Susumu Oshikawa leaned against the table, intently examining the account book.

Naruko entered from the left side.

“Can’t we do something about just the liquor store?”

“It can’t be done.”
“Half would suffice.”

Oshikawa: “No good.”

Naruko: “How about around forty yen?”

Oshikawa: “The problem isn’t in the amount.”
“I can’t give you a single cent.”

Naruko left in silence.

Oshikawa began whistling.
But while his hands continued working the abacus without pause, he occasionally peered solemnly into the account book.

The lattice door at the entrance opened. It was the paper supplier.

“Oh, I was just thinking about making that call,” said Oshikawa.
“Could you come back a bit later?”

“Around what time would be acceptable?”

“Well, I can’t say until that time comes, but let’s just set it for after midnight.”

Paper Supplier: "That's quite troubling."

Oshikawa: "Troublesome! Then make it on the dot."

Paper Supplier: "Can I receive it without fail?"

Oshikawa: "What's the point of asking? You—this is about trust."

Paper Supplier: "That trust... I'm not so sure."

Oshikawa: "Well, can't be helped."
"Let's see how this plays out."
"I'm busy now—we'll talk later..." (began setting down the abacus)

Paper Supplier (exiting): "Please stop making me waste my time coming here over and over."

Before long, once again, Naruko appeared, holding the passbook.

Naruko: “Hey, you. About this amount—let’s just put in ten yen for them, shall we?”

“What? The fishmonger?”
“Shouldn’t we handle everyone equally?”
“Everything gets postponed this year.”
“Are they still here?”

Naruko: “Yes...”
“They’re saying to do something about it.”

“Tell them to sort it out on your end.”

Naruko: “It’s a small shop—it’s pitiful.”

Oshikawa: “They’re probably saying the same thing over there.”
“Enough—send them away! Send them away!”

Naruko retreated.

In her place, the entrance opened.
It was the printer.

“Oh, I was just about to make a call,” said Oshikawa. “I must ask you to make it a bit later.”

“Even if we postpone it,” said the Printer, “the sun’ll have set by then.”

“What’s this now?” Oshikawa retorted. “‘The sun sets while the road remains long’—is that your little joke? Your place is still closer, I tell you. There’s someone who’s come all the way from Shinagawa three times.”

“If there’s an arrangement in place,” said the Printer, “that’s still acceptable. In our case, since we’re only dealing with you in this area…”

Oshikawa: “You need more training, you see.”
“I’ll find you another client later.”
“In exchange, wait one more month.”

Printer: “Don’t make light of this.”
“When you say ‘next time’ again—the boss won’t accept it.”

Oshikawa: “You think?”
“I doubt it.”
“Just come by around midnight and see.”
“Depending on circumstances, I’ll sort it out somehow…”

“Printer, are you sure about this?”

Oshikawa: “Are you making me guarantee myself?”
“I don’t know.”
“Hey, I’m a bit busy right now.”
“We’ll discuss this later.”
(He began working.)

Printer (starting to leave): “Tch, can’t be helped…”

Oshikawa whistled again, then threw down the abacus and lit a cigarette.

Naruko entered.
“I’m in trouble,” she said.
“I’d completely forgotten.”

“Perfect timing, isn’t it?”

Naruko produced a document. “Here it is, look…”

“What? They’re keeping track over there?”

“Last month—when you had cerebral anemia, that time.”

“House call: two yen, injection: one yen, powdered medicine: fifty sen...”

“The nurse is here.”

“Tell them I’ll call on them later…”

They probably won’t come back anyway.

“Hey, you handle your end—that was the agreement, wasn’t it? Don’t come to me about every little thing.”

Naruko retreated.

The entrance opened.
This time, it was the bookbinder.

“Oh, my apologies—I was just thinking of calling you. I’m sorry, but I’d like you to revisit us as late as possible tonight.”

“This is bad...”

“There’s no existing arrangement anymore.”

“What do you mean? Even without an arrangement, I’d still come—but really, can you pay or not?”

“Are you telling me to say it outright?”

“Yes.”

“It’s impossible.”

Bookbinder: “Well then, what are you going to do?”

Oshikawa: “Well... what are we supposed to do?”

Bookbinder: “I’d like you to settle this matter.”

Oshikawa: “And what do you mean by that?”

Bookbinder: “If you’re going to take that approach, then I’ve got my own ideas too.”

Oshikawa: “You’re saying something strange.
“What approach have I taken here?
“Aren’t I trying to discuss this seriously?
“You’re a bookbinder too.
“That’s right, isn’t it?
“If the publishing house is in trouble, isn’t it natural you’d be in trouble too?
“To somehow get through this, we need to pool our wits.
“Isn’t that exactly what I’m saying—that we need your wisdom?
“Don’t you understand?”

Bookbinder: “I understand.”
“But we don’t have that sort of wisdom—there’s no way around it.”

Oshikawa: “There isn’t any.”
“Then I’ll borrow it.”
“Your situation’s easier than mine.”

Bookbinder: “Quit fooling around.”

“Why? Is your shop five months behind on payments to everyone else too? I don’t want to talk about our miserable finances, but go ahead—look around wherever you like and inspect the account book.”

“I already know most of it without doing that.”

“Thank you. Then wait without saying a word, if you please.”

Bookbinder: “Is today completely impossible?”

Oshikawa: “Well... I still don’t know about that.
It depends on how the debt collection goes...”

Bookbinder: “In any case, we’re struggling too. Let’s settle it like this.
I’ll come by again late tonight—have as much ready as you can.”

Oshikawa: “Fine.
Well then, goodbye.”

The bookbinder left.

Oshikawa stood up and paced around the room.
Occasionally, he pulled out various books from the stack and flipped through their pages.

Naruko entered.

Oshikawa (extending a book toward his wife): “Nice binding design...”
“It’s practically wasted on nonsense works.”

Naruko: “That’s right. You should’ve done everything yourself from the very beginning.”

Oshikawa: “Rather than relying on mediocre illustrators...”

Naruko: “The quality is excellent, for one thing…”

Oshikawa: “The quality…”
“Rather than that, they’re more noticeable when lined up like this.”
“They’re appropriately eye-catching.”

Naruko: “There’s something striking about it.”

Oshikawa: “‘What you might call “the petals of knowledge.”’”

“Mr. Mochiyama hasn’t seen it yet, has he?”

Oshikawa: “He couldn’t care less about book design.”
“Seems to have zero aesthetic sense.”
“Quite the peculiar man.”
“Absurd that he doesn’t keep a single copy of his own books.”

Naruko: “They’ll end up completely sold off, won’t they?”

Oshikawa: “Exactly.”
“Goes to used bookstores and says—‘This just published, but half-price should do.’”
“...like that.”

Naruko: “I’ve heard that story…”
“Then the shopkeeper goes—‘With this author’s works...’”

“When I heard that story, I carelessly laughed, but really, it’s no laughing matter.”

“By the way, there’s still some shopping left…”
“Put it off till next year.”
“Two or three yen would do.”
“Didn’t I tell you we’re cleaned out? If only Hiko would come back already…”
“Ugh… I’m spent.”

Oshikawa: “Same here.”
Oshikawa: “But has your side been settled already?”
Naruko: “It’s pretty much settled.”

Oshikawa: “In that case, fine.”
“If you’ve got nothing else to do, go check out the night stalls.”

Naruko: “Your side still isn’t done?”

Oshikawa: “It’s next.”

Naruko: “Do it properly.
Well, there’s nothing I can do here anyway—I’ll go get in the kotatsu.”

Oshikawa: “Don’t catch a cold.”

Naruko: “I’m fine—I’ve got the futon on.”

“What? Going to bed already?”
“Is that not allowed?”
“Of course, of course.”
“Sleep well.”
“Well then, wake me when they ring the New Year’s bell.”
“The water’s boiling on the charcoal stove.”

Naruko left.

Oshikawa sat at the table and began flipping through the account book again.

Before long, the front door opened and Rokurō Mochiyama entered.

Mochiyama: "Still working?"

Oshikawa: "Yeah."
"Come on in."

Mochiyama: "Damn cold."

“Ah, it’s cold.”

Mochiyama: (sitting in a chair) It's quiet.

Oshikawa: (still keeping his eyes lowered to the account book) Ah.

“How’s business?”
“Nothing major.”
(Pause.) “The book’s out.”

Mochiyama: “Book? Which book?”

Oshikawa: “You’re such a carefree guy. ‘The Snake’s Leg.’”

Mochiyama: “Ah, that’s mine. Will it even sell?”

Oshikawa: “Don’t panic. I just finished distributing them.”

Mochiyama: “I’ll take about ten copies.”

Oshikawa: “Wait. If you put them out as used books now, it’ll be a problem.”

Mochiyama: “Your wife?”

“She’s upstairs.”

“You’ve got plenty of breathing room, haven’t you?”

“Hmph.”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“Truth is, she’s completely worn out and asleep.”

Mochiyama: “Hoh.”
“Well now, isn’t this quite the refined situation.”
“So you see—this is precisely how things stand on my end…”

Oshikawa: “Just a moment…”
“I’ll settle this matter straightaway.”

Mochiyama (idly taking out a cigarette and lighting it)

Oshikawa (clicked the abacus.
Before long) There, that should do it….
(suddenly changing his tone) “Well, this year’s finally coming to an end.”

Mochiyama: (taken aback) “Ah, it’s over.
Quite the accomplishment.”

“Meticulous about it.”
(Pause.) “By the way—I need to step out for about an hour. If you’re free, I’d like to ask you to watch the house.”

Mochiyama: “Sure.”
“As long as you don’t mind.”

Oshikawa (momentarily flustered): “Uh… Well then, I’ll leave it to you.”
“If you want tea, there’s hot water boiling in the kitchen.”

Mochiyama: “No more visitors coming, I take it?”

“There might be some,” said Oshikawa.
“Handle it properly.”

While Mochiyama stared blankly, watching him leave, Oshikawa put on an Inverness coat at the entrance and stepped outside, still holding his hat.

“Hey… So what now?”

Oshikawa’s figure vanished from view.

Left behind, Rokurō Mochiyama—as though apprehending the weight of responsibility for the first time—half-rose and swept his gaze across the room.

Two

Rokurō Mochiyama took his place at the table like a master, while the Yōyōken innkeeper pulled a chair near the brazier and hunched over.

Mochiyama: “Coincidence is such a strange thing, isn’t it? I get off, they get on—the train, you see. If we don’t notice it here, isn’t that just how it ends? When I called out, ‘Hey, where are you going?’, that guy did seem a bit startled. Isn’t he acting all brazen?—‘How could I stay home alone on a night like this?’... Since it was a reasonable story, I too ended up boarding the train in a daze. On a night like this, even I don’t want to be home alone, you see.”
(As the innkeeper tried to speak) “No—I’ve already grasped that point. Today, kindly return home in silence.”

“But really—what exactly is your relationship with Mr. Oshikawa?”
“What sort of relationship does it appear to be?”
“You aren’t someone who frequents this shop, are you?”
“I’m not exactly a clerk, but well… something along those lines. The books piled up here—I wrote most of them.”
“Oh! Is that so? So you’re the author then.”

Mochiyama: “At the same time, I’m school friends with Oshikawa. Well, we’re inseparable friends.”

Innkeeper: “Oh, are you two that close? In that case, you must do something about it. Since he told his wife it’s a private matter, I haven’t inquired until now.”

“Private matters aren’t something you discuss at full volume,” Mochiyama said. “So—the bill’s total?”

The innkeeper produced a written statement. “It’s grown rather substantial.”

“Just under a hundred yen.”

“The tip isn’t included.”

“Well, I don’t have anything on me right now, but once Oshikawa returns, we can discuss it.”

“Oh no—absolutely not.”
“In that case, I don’t need to make any requests of you.”

“I’ll be going soon too.”

“Please go ahead…”
“The Western liquor has been carefully selected.”

“Well then, I suppose we’ll meet again…”
“Please don’t mind me…”

“You’re waiting for Mr. Oshikawa, aren’t you?”

“Well no—I’m not exactly waiting for him. Just got stuck house-sitting, see? Came by to borrow some cash on a whim, but before I could even bring it up—poof! He dashed out.”
“Not in any rush today—that’s why I’m still here. Really, no need to stand on ceremony…”

“Yes,” said the innkeeper.
“But I can’t go back empty-handed like this...”

“Your establishment serves Western cuisine too, I see.”

“Yes, in this area... that naturally becomes our main focus.”

“How many waitresses do you employ?”

“We have three at present.”

At this moment, the front door opened.
It was Oshikawa.
He stood silently.

“Did you forget something?”

Oshikawa (reluctantly stepping inside): “Nah.”
“When did you get here?”

Innkeeper: “When you were out...”
“Since you said you’d come by today, I waited until just a moment ago, but...”

Oshikawa: “I came by.”

Innkeeper: “Oh, is that true?”

“If you think it’s a lie, go back and see for yourself. I left the money with Miss Toyo. It’s not the full amount, but it’s cash. If it’s counterfeit, go sue the Bank of Japan.”

“You’re mocking me, aren’t you?”

“Anyway, go back and see for yourself.”

“Since I’m leaving now—how much did you leave there?”

“About ten yen.”

“Oh dear, that won’t do.”

Oshikawa: “You’re troubled?”
“Really troubled?”
“I’m also troubled.”

Mochiyama: “Look at that.”
“The whole world’s struggling.”
“Hey, Innkeeper—take a look at those books piled up over there.”
“They all have fixed prices.”
“The ones on the alcove shelf are one yen eighty sen per volume, those in the red case over there are ninety sen, the gold-lettered ones across the way—looks like one yen twenty sen… (to Oshikawa) How much is this next one?”

Oshikawa: “Sixty sen…”

Mochiyama (goes to retrieve it): “This…”
“I’ll give you a copy.”
“It’s actually quite interesting.”
“My pen name…” (pointing to the author’s name)

The front door opened.
Surisawa entered.

Surisawa: “Good evening...”

“Oh, you really didn’t have to go through the trouble… I was actually going to call you today, but… well…”

“Oh no, not at all—you’re busy, and yet…”

“Well, please come in.”
“I don’t mind at all.”

Innkeeper: “Well now, what shall we do?”

Oshikawa: “What shall we do?
“Just wait a moment.”
“Here…” (to Mochiyama, pointing to a chair stacked with books) “Take that down.”

Mochiyama (following instructions): “If you would... here.”

Surisawa (carrying a large briefcase and coming up): “How is everything?”
“Your business seems ever more prosperous…”

Oshikawa: Yes, thanks to you…
(to Mochiyama) "Ah, this is... Mr. Surisawa... You know... that matter."

Mochiyama: Ah, I am Rokurō Mochiyama.

Oshikawa: He's my close friend.
“At the same time…”

Surisawa: “Oh, well this is...”

Oshikawa (to Mochiyama): “Didn’t I tell you…? Mr. Surisawa is my crucial financier.”

Mochiyama: “Ah, I see... Oshikawa has been causing you a great deal of trouble…”

Surisawa: “Oh, not at all…”

Oshikawa: “Six years ago, when I started this business, it was this person who provided the two thousand yen in capital. Isn’t that amusing? We’re complete strangers to each other, you know.”

Surisawa: “Well, now…”

Oshikawa: “Exactly.”
“On a certain chance occasion, I mentioned to this person—whom I’d only met once or twice—that I wanted to start this kind of work but actually had no money.”

Surisawa: “That’s exactly right.”

Oshikawa: “So then—wouldn’t you be surprised? When I said I’d lend a hand, he immediately wrote me a check.”
“Of course, I did at least stamp the seal on the promissory note.”

Mochiyama: “Unsecured, then.”

Surisawa: “Precisely.”
“I’ve long held an interest in publishing work…”

Oshikawa: “Since you yourself had no experience—meaning you entrusted the business to me while…”

Surisawa: “I too wanted to make a profit…”

Oshikawa: “To put it simply, my skills...”

Surisawa: “I had the opportunity to invest two thousand yen.”

“If you put it that way, then...”
“A type of speculation.”
“I do understand that part, but...”

Oshikawa: "The interest, you mean?"

Mochiyama: "Yeah, I don't need to hear that far..."

Oshikawa: "No—I'll tell you."
"Now, Mr. Surisawa—this stays between us, right?"

“Please spare me the details,” said Mr. Surisawa.

“Let me put it in broad terms,” Oshikawa replied. “On this sixth year, the total principal and interest has reached something over nine thousand yen.”

Innkeeper: “Well...”
Mochiyama: “Hmm, not bad as an investment.”
Oshikawa: “But I still haven’t paid a single sen of it.”

Mochiyama: “You’ll have to wait a bit longer. The path ahead is clear.”

Surisawa: “Oh no—I’ll wait as long as required.”

Oshikawa: “That’s our usual approach. If we simply rewrite the promissory note, that should suffice.”

Surisawa: “I’ve brought a prepared copy.”

Mochiyama: “Impressive work. If I may ask—what exactly is your profession?”

Oshikawa: “Hey—don’t ask such stupid questions.”

The front door opened.
It was the bookbinder from earlier.

“Hey, wait there for me.”
“I’m coming now…”
“Lately, I’ve been thinking of starting some kind of business myself. In your opinion, what type of…”

Surisawa: “That’s correct.”
Surisawa: “I believe your current enterprise remains most ideal.”

Mochiyama: “Is that so?”
“Actually... regarding that—the trouble lies in having no capital...”

The front door opened.
It was the usual printer.

Mochiyama: (To that person) “Ah, Mr. Wako, isn’t it?”
“Wait a moment, please.”
(To Surisawa) “How about... just around two thousand yen...”

“Hey, wait,” Oshikawa cut in. “I need to discuss something here.” Turning to Surisawa, he gestured around the cramped shop. “As you can see, Mr. Surisawa, we’ve accumulated so many books that the place has become practically unmanageable...”

“I must admit,” Surisawa replied with measured politeness, “I’ve been quietly impressed by your growing inventory since my arrival.”

“Which is precisely why,” Oshikawa pressed, “I beg you to grant me some leeway here. All this time, I’ve let my capital lie fallow—it’s downright tragic to be paralyzed just when success seems within reach.” He leaned forward, voice tightening. “Another thousand yen could see us through this year-end crisis...”

Surisawa: “Mr. Oshikawa, that simply won’t do. I have only come to collect this year’s interest.”
Oshikawa: “So...”

“If you tell me to wait even on that matter, very well—I shall wait.”

“So…”

The front door opened.
It was the paper supplier from earlier.

“It’s cramped here, isn’t it? Please come up—all of you, come right up,” said Oshikawa. “Let’s settle everything at once. Mr. Wako, no need to take off your coat—it’s freezing.” Turning back to Surisawa: “So while we’re at it—just another thousand yen now, I beg you...”

The bookbinder, printer, and paper supplier filed into the room in that order. With no chairs available, they all remained standing. The innkeeper rose and began urging the bookbinder to take her seat.

Oshikawa snapped at Mochiyama: “You—handle that side.” To Surisawa: “As I was saying...” He gestured for the moneylender to follow, then led the way to the adjacent room himself.

Surisawa trailed reluctantly behind him.
“In publishing,” Oshikawa continued without missing a beat—briefcase clutched securely underarm—“when you land a hit, you’ve got to seize the opening...”

Surisawa: “Well—that’s already beyond my expertise…”
Oshikawa: “To put it plainly...” (the rest faded into inaudibility)
Mochiyama: (as if struck by recollection) “Now—what’s your business here?”

The bookbinder already understands, so…

Mochiyama: (To the printer) “You’re Mr. Wako.”

Printer: “Heh heh heh...”

Mochiyama: “Ah, right—I see.”
“And you—what’s your line of work?”

Paper supplier: “Paper supplier.”

“Paper Supplier—hasn’t this already been settled?”

“No—it’s turned into quite a mess.”

“Now now—no need to get worked up,” Mochiyama said. “Once they’ve finished talking over there, we’ll pay what’s owed—so have some tea and wait.” He gestured toward Surisawa’s briefcase. “See that? Even if five or ten of you showed up at once, he wouldn’t flinch.” His voice dropped conspiratorially. “That’s Mr. Surisawa—a top-tier taxpayer. Remember—he’s Hokkyoku Shoin’s shadow financier.”

“But if you don’t do that,” Oshikawa said, suddenly intensifying his tone, “my work will be crushed to pieces.”

Surisawa: (calmly and collectedly) “It can’t be helped. You’re the one who’ll suffer the loss.”

Mochiyama: (To everyone) “It’s no use. There’s no prospect left. Gentlemen, I regret to say you must withdraw now. I swear on my honor—the day Hokkyoku Shoin falls will be Rokurō Mochiyama’s ruin. I won’t trouble you further. For your payments, I’ll share responsibility.”

Surisawa: (moving away from Oshikawa) “No, no—no matter how many times I’m asked about that matter, it remains unchanged.”
“Let’s go ahead and rewrite the promissory note.”
(Moved toward the table.)

“I won’t stamp any more seals on that sort of promissory note!” Oshikawa clung after him.

Surisawa: (Still calmly) “Then, shall we proceed with the property seizure as agreed?”

“Then do as you please…”

“What’s going on?” Mochiyama interjected. “Neither of you should let your tempers flare like this.” He turned to Surisawa. “Mr. Surisawa—this man’s virtue lies precisely here. He walks a straight path regardless of circumstances. Charges headlong into obstacles with honor intact.” His tone softened diplomatically. “Please don’t take this amiss.” Pivoting to Oshikawa, he added sharply: “And you—show some consideration for your counterpart here. Making an enemy of Mr. Surisawa serves no one’s interests.” His gaze swung back between them. “Don’t you agree, Mr. Surisawa?”

Surisawa responded with practiced equanimity: “Not at all. When I extended my assistance to Mr. Oshikawa, I fully accounted for this… forthright aspect of his character.” A thin smile surfaced. “Rest assured—it leaves me wholly unperturbed.”

Mochiyama: (To the others) “Gentlemen, as you’ve now heard. For today, why don’t we all part ways without making sour faces?”

“Until something’s done about this bookbinder… I don’t plan on moving an inch…”

“Stay right where you are,” said Oshikawa.

“There you go again,” Mochiyama cut in. “Don’t pick a fight—no fighting… This is when patience matters most. We’re all in an endurance contest here.”

“Since time’s short,” Surisawa interjected, “let’s settle the formalities.”

“The inkstone?”
(He opens the inkstone’s lid.)

Surisawa: “I’ve roughly filled it in already, but…”
(Opens the briefcase and takes out documents)

Paper Supplier: “Then, could you let us proceed like this?
The paper for the lecture notes and the final installment of *The Serpent’s Tail* was sourced from elsewhere, so…”

Oshikawa: “I know. I’m truly sorry about this.”

“We were counting on this entirely, I’m afraid…”
“Didn’t I say I understand?”

“In that case, I’ll take my leave now,” said the Innkeeper.
“Well, isn’t this acceptable?” Mochiyama replied.
“No, I’ll consider it settled for now,” she responded.
“Is that so?” he said.

“Then I leave it to you,” said Oshikawa.
“Give my regards to everyone.”

Mochiyama escorted the Innkeeper out while remarking, “The debt collector’s errand boy should return shortly.”
“Depending on developments, we might manage to allocate a portion specifically for your claim.”

“Is that so…?” murmured the Innkeeper.
“In that case…”

“Absolutely not,” Oshikawa cut in.
“They won’t convene.”
“I already tried contacting various parties by telephone earlier.”

Mochiyama: (Suddenly adopting a solemn tone, as if struck by an idea) "If that's how it's decided, then everyone has no choice but to give up."
"I've given up too."
"Now, gentlemen, there's no need for you to remain standing there like that."
"Or do you think banknotes will rain from the sky into Oshikawa's pockets?"
"But wait."
"I shall bestow upon you a brilliant idea."

Surisawa: (who had been writing something in the documents this whole time) "Mr. Oshikawa—please affix your seal here…"

Oshikawa: (receives the promissory note and reads it)

Mochiyama: “This brilliant idea? It’s an extreme measure.”
“If you gentlemen want something so badly, shouldn’t that very determination help you find a solution?”

Surisawa: (pointing at the documents) “Here and here, please…”

Mochiyama: “But since it’s extreme, you must be ready for failure.”
“Even if it’s just a fantasy, gentlemen—there’ll come a time it excites you.”
“If it’s a sin, then let me shoulder it alone.”
(As he spoke, he reached over, pulled Surisawa’s still-open briefcase toward himself, and calmly extracted a wad of bills.) “Now then—everyone, show your receipts.”

The group, though taken aback, nevertheless presented their receipts one by one.

Mochiyama: “Starting with you—627 yen... The 80-something sen probably doesn’t matter.”
(Counting the bills) “One, two, three, four… Ugh, what a pain.”
“Just take it and divide it among yourselves!”

With this fierce declaration, bundles of bills were hurled one after another before the debt collectors’ eyes.

From slightly earlier, Surisawa and Oshikawa had been watching this bizarre spectacle with bewilderment, but Surisawa’s eyes gradually grew vacant before he suddenly snapped to attention and looked around.
From there, the briefcase had vanished without anyone noticing.

Surisawa: (aghast) “My briefcase!”
“That’s my—!” (shouting while frantically scooping up the bills scattered across and under the table) “What do you think you’re doing, this person…!”
“Outrageous!”
“All of you, move aside! Come on, move aside!”
“Come on, move aside!”
“No one touches a thing!”
“Is there no police box nearby…?”

Mochiyama: (cheerfully) “How about that? As a year-end diversion, it was a bit of a good idea, don’t you think?”

Surisawa: “Are there none left around here? Hasn’t anyone trampled them underfoot?”

Mochiyama: “Not to worry—there’s not a single quick-fingered rogue here who’d do such a thing. Take your time gathering them up. Well now, gentlemen, your hearts must feel somewhat unburdened. May you greet the new year in good spirits.”

Surisawa appeared to have mostly collected the bills by now, and at that moment, the rigid tension gradually returned to the faces of the group—Oshikawa, the paper supplier, the printer, the bookbinder—as smiles emerged on their lips that seemed both abashed and lonesome, yet tinged with something akin to benevolence. Then, their gleaming gazes fixed upon each individual bill that Surisawa was counting with rapt concentration, until at last every person in the room began nodding their heads in unison with his movements and mindlessly commenced counting the notes.

III

All characters from the previous scene had left except Oshikawa and Mochiyama.
Mochiyama lay sprawled across the zabuton cushion.
Oshikawa went to fetch the tea set from the kitchen.

Mochiyama: “Your wife manages things well.”

Oshikawa: “Yeah.”

Mochiyama: “That was your doing, I suppose.”

Oshikawa: “As for household matters—she managed things somehow and crawled into bed come evening.”
“When he pressed about business affairs here—I told him I’d take charge.”
“She must sleep easy now.”
“We mean to rouse her when midnight bells toll.”

“I wonder where my wife is wandering around now,” said Mochiyama.
“This one too—I told her to come here when the New Year’s bell rings.”

“Thanks to you, I was saved,” said Oshikawa.
“It was unbearable.”

“Ah, but my tactics won’t work twice,” Mochiyama replied.

“That was brilliant.”

Mochiyama: “Just the fellowship of destitute friends—that’s all there is to it.”
“For me, it’s all the same no matter where I get turned down.”
“It’s just a different set of faces.”
The surroundings grew absurdly quiet.
“Hey, where’s the charcoal?”

“I’ll bring it now.”

Mochiyama: (looking at his watch) Oh, it's almost New Year's Eve. Just two minutes... fifteen seconds....
(imitating a radio time signal) "One minute fifty seconds... thirty seconds... twenty seconds... ten seconds... five seconds... It's not ringing."

A long time passed.

Oshikawa: (carrying charcoal from the kitchen) “Is it ringing?”

Mochiyama: “Monk, are you dozing off?”

Oshikawa: “The clock’s dozing off.”
“Oh—the entrance seems to have opened.”

Mochiyama: “It’s an illusion.”

Oshikawa: “No—there’s definitely someone at the entrance.”
No voices could be heard, but there was a sense of human presence.
(steps out to check) “See? Ah—we’ve been waiting for you.”
“Please—come in.”

Mochiyama: “Ah—she’s gone and come already.”
“Couldn’t even wait till the appointed time?”
“Up you get—up you get.”

“You can keep your coat on.”
“It’s quite cold inside the room as well.”

Mochiyama’s wife Nazoe entered.
“That was quick!” said Mochiyama.
“Still not ringing?”

“It rang ages ago.”
“That must be it. I thought something was off.”
“Ah, whatever. Asakusa, huh?”
“You hit the mark. It’s strange, isn’t it? My feet just end up heading there. Last year and the year before that too—see? I went, didn’t I?”
“To hear the bell, right?”
“But there’s no reason we shouldn’t be able to hear it here...”

“The New Year’s Eve bell?”
“With the wind direction, such things can happen.”
“Hey, your hand’s like this!”
(touches her husband’s hand)

Oshikawa dashed up to the second floor.

Nazoe: “What an unpleasant man.”
“What were you spacing out about?”

Mochiyama: “If you were spacing out, you should’ve been able to hear it.”
“Then I guess that was right in the middle of all that commotion.”

“What commotion? Did something happen?”
“Nah, nothing really...”
“Just the sort of thing that happens anywhere.”
“Asakusa still the same?”

“Right… I suppose you’d say it’s still the same.”
“I saw a comedy.”
“It wasn’t funny at all.”

“A comedy,”
“Now that’s unusual.”

“The other spectators were laughing anyway.”

“I suppose so.”
“When presented with a comedy, laughter becomes obligatory.”
“Well then—what shall we do? Stay here tonight?”

Nazoe: Whatever.
I wonder if the bedding’s prepared…

Mochiyama: They’d worry about that back home.
"It’s been a while since I’ve spent New Year’s on a trip."

Nazoe: Yes.

Mochiyama: (Looking up at the second floor) Ah, Mrs. Oshikawa’s awake.

Nazoe: What? Was she sleeping?

Mochiyama: Apparently her responsibilities differ.

Nazoe: She can sleep so soundly, can’t she?
"But here—it’s not like our home, I suppose."

“Well, I don’t know.”

Oshikawa came down.

Oshikawa: “She’s sleeping so soundly—it’s admirable.”
“Her health thrives because of that.”
“Mrs. Mochiyama—do you often rest well?”

Nazoe: “It comes in fits and starts.”
“Once I can’t sleep, nothing helps.”
“This one here—he’ll keep people talking while he snores away.”

Mochiyama: “Better than brooding over worse things.”

Oshikawa’s wife, Naruko, appeared.

Naruko: “Welcome.”
“Forgive my earlier discourtesy.”
“If only he’d roused me sooner…”
“How bitter this cold bites.”
“This fire won’t do at all… I’ll fetch gas to revive it.”

Mochiyama: (studying Oshikawa’s face intently) “What do you think? Can’t we scrape together fifty yen somehow?”

Oshikawa: (steadily meeting Mochiyama’s gaze) “Ah, now that you mention it—Chibi still hasn’t come back.”

Mochiyama: “Maybe he got held up along the way.”

Oshikawa: “I only wagged my tongue a bit, but getting fifty yen out of it was no small feat.”

Mochiyama: “Alright, here’s how we’ll split it—if it’s under fifty yen, I’ll take it.
“Anything over that—you keep.”

Oshikawa: “Enough with the money talk.”

Nazoe: “That’s right.”

“What? You’re the one who brought it up yourself.”
“You told me to arrange the money for the trip…”

Naruko appeared with a coal shovel and added fuel to the brazier.

“Have you already prepared the New Year’s feast?” Naruko asked Nazoe.

Oshikawa: “That’s what I’m saying now—you two are planning to go to Ōshima next, I hear.”

Mochiyama: “Ōshima’s nice too.
I’d intended to go as far as Itō, but…”

In this white interval, the distant sound of a bell begins to toll.

The group exchanged looks.

Mochiyama: Oh, it's ringin', ain't it?

Oshikawa: It's ringin'.

Naruko: It's ringin'.

Nazoe: That's right.

Mochiyama: Yeah, that's right, ain't it?

Nazoe: But you see, it was so cold out they couldn't wait for the proper time.

Oshikawa: “I see.”
“Unnecessary lies are a feminine trait, you see.”

“What? Madam said the New Year’s Eve bell has already tolled?”

Oshikawa: (grinning) “Hearing it twice isn’t half bad.”

Naruko: “As for me… That dream I had earlier wasn’t this year’s dream after all.”

Mochiyama: “So it was a special dream after all?”

“Well, I suppose so.”

“I’d like to ask something.”

“Shall I try telling it?”

Oshikawa: “Dream stories are boring.”

Mochiyama: “Don’t be so mercenary. We’ve got plenty of time until dawn—why don’t we listen to Mrs. Oshikawa’s dream story, and when we get sleepy, have her let us sleep right here?”

Nazoe: “Oh my, how rude…”

Naruko: “Oh my, if it could serve as a substitute for a lullaby, wouldn’t that be an honor? Aren’t you getting hungry? Shall we grill some mochi?”
(Naruko went to fetch the mochi and mochi grill.)

Nazoe: (Meanwhile, Nazoe vigorously brushed dandruff off her husband’s jacket shoulders) “I’ve been starving since earlier.”

“Pull yourself together.”

Naruko appeared.

Naruko (arranging the mochi one by one on the grill) “Oh, you’re listening.”
“Since it’s just a dream anyway, there are parts where things don’t quite add up.”

“Don’t blame it on the dream.”

Naruko remained silent.
(Literally chasing the dream) “I don’t know where this place was.”
“It was a town surrounded by towering buildings.”
“I was walking with Oshikawa.”
“I was in such a frantic hurry—though I didn’t know why—that I desperately wanted to walk faster.”
“And this person here was walking ever so slowly, swinging his cane like he was out for a stroll.”
“Then the clear sky suddenly clouded over, and something like snow began to fall—but even when it hit our faces, it wasn’t cold at all.”
“That sort of thing often happens in dreams, doesn’t it?”
“And when that snow-like stuff accumulated on the ground, it should’ve turned white, but instead it was pale brown with a purplish tint—or so I thought—and here and there I could see little black specks. It was really quite strange.”
“As I thought this, Oshikawa must’ve made an ‘Oh?’ sort of face and started looking around.”
Then suddenly: “The manuscripts are falling! The manuscripts are falling! Hurry and pick them up! Hurry...”
“Don’t you have a wrapping cloth or something?”
“Don’t you have a wrapping cloth or something?” he barked.
“Even though I thought that couldn’t be right and looked closely at the ground—well, what do you think? The road was completely piled with banknotes.”

“Don’t speak so loudly.”

Naruko (flipped over the mochi in a panic as it started to burn).
(Nazoe also started helping) "So I also thought, 'This is...' (the men burst out laughing) Why?"
"What’s so funny about me thinking ‘This is…’?"

Mochiyama: Oh, it’s fine.

Naruko: “As I was thinking, ‘Shouldn’t we report this to the police?’ Oshikawa said, ‘What are you dilly-dallying for? If I lose even a single page of these manuscripts bestowed from heaven, there’ll be no recovering them!’ Saying this, he kept scooping them up with one hand while clutching a single sheet he’d picked up in the other, reading it obsessively. ‘This isn’t a joke—these are all ten-yen bills!’ Even though I kept insisting this repeatedly, he wouldn’t listen. ‘Marvelously interesting... A masterpiece... This will be a sensation!’—he kept repeating such things until I finally grew so exasperated that I began gathering them up furiously myself. Unfortunately, I only had one wrapping cloth, so I stuffed them into my sleeves, pockets, between my obi—anywhere I could cram them... (The men laugh again) It’s true! I’m not lying. But with such quantities, I simply couldn’t keep pace. Completely overwhelmed, I wished this were at least happening in our own garden.” (The group laughs.) “As we were occupied like this, a man approached from ahead. ‘Well now, well now—shall I assist you?’ or something he said, and since he happened to have an evening newspaper, he wrapped another bundle inside it and handed it to me. Strangely enough, I didn’t find this peculiar at all. ‘Much obliged,’ I said—(laughs)—whereupon that man must have thought ‘This is endless.’ ‘Please wait—I’ll go call everyone nearby,’ he declared and started rushing off. Fearing this would cause complications, I called out—(the group’s expressions gradually sober)—‘Wait! Instead of that, could you please find us a taxi?’”

“When I said that, he replied, ‘A truck would be better than a taxi’….”

Mochiyama: “I couldn’t agree more.”

Naruko: “Right away, two trucks arrived.”
“That man brought a broom from somewhere.”
“When I wondered what Oshikawa was doing, he was getting buried under the growing pile of banknotes with only his head sticking out.”
“In one hand he still clutched a single banknote, completely engrossed in reading something by the look of it.”
“I was dumbfounded.”
“(Pause) After that, I can’t quite recall… but anyway, we were riding atop a truck piled mountain-high with banknotes, driving along the moat for sure.”
“People passing by all turned to look.”
At that moment it struck me—“Ah, I should’ve thanked that man properly”—and when I casually glanced back, there he was in the far distance, smiling warmly as he watched us.
“That’s what’s funny.”
“Mr. Mochiyama—it was you.”

Mochiyama: Whoa!
Naruko (placing grilled mochi on a plate): How about it? They’re done.

Oshikawa: “And then, what happened?”

Naruko: “So I tapped your back and said, ‘Look at that person from earlier—it’s Mr. Mochiyama!’”

Oshikawa: “Then what?”

Naruko: “What you say makes sense. ‘If it’s Mochiyama, of course he’d do something like that,’ you said…”

Mochiyama: “There you go again!”

At that moment, the lattice door opened, and the one who came slinking in was the errand boy Hiko.

“What’s wrong?”

Hiko: “In the end，I couldn’t make it around the Shibuya area.”

Oshikawa: “Ah，never mind that side.”
“So…”

Hiko: “First I went to Bunryūdō，but they said it’s no good this year.”

“Right. What else?”

Hiko: “Senshinkan gave half.”
“Fifteen yen.”
(Presents documents)

Oshikawa: “Fine.”

Hiko: “Chūkōsha only had lecture notes for eight yen and fifty sen…”

Oshikawa: “You don’t have to report every single thing.”

Hiko: “In Mejiro, it’s just impossible.”
“There was a fire, so I couldn’t get through.”
“When I took a detour, the bicycle chain came off, and with it being pitch dark, it was quite…”

Oshikawa: “Alright, alright. Hurry up.”
“Have you eaten anything?”

Hiko: “Well, you see... every soba shop was packed...”

Oshikawa: “Save the story for later. Just hand over what you need to and get to bed.”

Hiko: “Well... but since it’s year-end, everywhere’s in a real mess, isn’t it? In Ōtsuka’s neighborhood, at the police box...”

Naruko: “Here, I’ll give you mochi. Go eat over there.” “You didn’t drop any money, did you?”

Hiko: “Huh.” “It’s fine.” “I don’t mind carrying just this around.”

“Make a proper show of it! Out with the total—how much did we collect?”

“I haven’t counted it yet, sir…”

“Here—hand it over. I’ll tally it up. Fetch the abacus.”
(Hiko produced the bag.)

Nazoe: “Stop meddling in unnecessary things.”

Mochiyama (grabbing bills and coins from the bag): “The texture feels different from earlier.”
“Well now! We’ve gathered more than expected!”
(Everyone peers in.) “Wait a second.”
“First let’s sort them out.”
“This ten yen... five yen... hmm, one-yen bills are getting scarce.”
“Next fifty sen... ten sen... five sen... then copper coins...”
“Come on everyone—guess how much...”
“Got it! Got it!”

Naruko: “The mochi’s getting hard!”

Mochiyama: “Thirty... thirty... sixty.”
“They’re thin though...”
“Quite a pile here...”
“Ten... twenty... thirty... ninety... four... five... six...”
“Twenty... seven...”
“No mistakes?”
“Let’s check against the ledger.”
“Leave that for later?”
“Anyway Oshikawa—what’ll we do with this?”
“You’ll be in trouble.”

“Well, no—it’s nothing… Just do as I said earlier.”
“Should I take fifty yen? But… this’ll do. Mrs. Oshikawa—have everyone gather over there. Let’s eat some mochi.”
(They began eating the mochi.)
“How about this—why don’t we all go to Ōshima? The rest will work itself out.”
My closest friend in poverty was stuffing his face with mochi, ready to abandon our happy trip—how could I just sit and watch?

Mochiyama (suddenly making a face as if about to cry, abruptly thrust his hand toward Oshikawa; just as the two appeared to share a solemn handshake, he thudded backward onto the floor and forced out a shrill, deranged laugh). He flailed his limbs about, feigning unstoppable laughter while actually preventing it from ceasing.

Curtain.