Pathway to Japanese Literature

A small coastal rental villa.

The stage consisted of two adjoining rooms—an eight-tatami room and a six-tatami room. The eight-tatami room contained rattan chairs, a table, a bookcase, and a bed; the six-tatami room had another bed at its center, along with a chest of drawers, a folding screen, a dressing table, a clothes rack, and a sofa.

At the back was a bay window; the glass doors were shut.

On the sofa, the woman was leaning.
The woman wore a woolen scarf around her neck, wrapped a blanket from the waist down, and was making a paper doll.

She occasionally hummed a song but would quickly become short of breath, each time letting out a deep sigh.

While holding the roughly formed doll up to the light,

“Why are you so late today?
You’ve been dragged off by your rowdy friends again and are wandering around Ginza, haven’t you?
Even if you’ve missed the last train, I won’t care…
Four yen here, four yen there—it really adds up, you know.”
Hahaha, I see—the shoulders are too stiff…
Somehow, I felt the Pierrot wasn’t coming together…
Now, now—let’s lower these shoulders a bit more…
I’ll just go ahead and paint the eye rims blue now.
Ah, right—the moon’s come out at just the perfect time, hasn’t it…
It had to be properly finished by the time Dr. Momiyama came tomorrow.
That doctor just can’t seem to stop wanting to shower me with compliments.
He must be running out of material and getting stuck by now.
(She sang a song.)
(After a while, she sighed again) Ah, this is painful.
Ugh, this is unbearable… I can’t even sing anymore…
I’ll try singing out loud again… (suddenly silencing herself) Well, as long as I’m still alive, there must be something good waiting…

The doctor also said it’s just one more month of endurance.
So then I’ll finally be able to return to Tokyo and meet friends… There, that should do it—though the trousers might be a bit too tight…
Ah, good enough.

(She begins singing again.
(but it doesn’t last long) There.
If I start applying makeup, moving would make me too cold.
(Slowly tries to sit up.)

The light suddenly went out.

“Oh my, how dreadful.”
“A power outage at this hour—this is just absurd!”

At that moment, a masked man crept up to the window, quietly opened the glass door, suddenly leaped inside, and grabbed the woman from behind.
The woman let out a scream and collapsed on the spot; the masked man swiftly leaped out the window and vanished.

A long time passed.

The sound of waves echoed as the clock struck twelve. Then came the creak of the entrance lattice opening—the unmistakable sense of someone approaching. A man stomped into the room, still wearing his coat and hat, a shopping parcel dangling from one hand.

“What’s wrong?”
“You turned off all the lights… Are you asleep already?”
(He fumbled for the light switch and twisted it…) “Huh? It’s broken.”
“Strange.”
“The next room’s lights were on.”
“Shī-bō, wake up.”
“When did they go out?”
“Hey, Shī-bō… This isn’t funny…”
(As he moved toward the bed, his foot caught on the woman’s collapsed body.) “Ah!”
“Wh-what’s wrong, Shī-bō?”
“Snap out of it—it’s me! Hey, I said it’s me…”
“Ah—why… so sudden…”
“My fault… Sorry I was late…”
“Hey, Shī-bō, give me a break…”
“Wait here—I’ll go get a doctor…”
“Ah… This blood… Isn’t this a wound?”
“A wound!”
“A blade wound…”

“They got you right in the heart.”
“Bastards!”
“Doing some stupid goddamn stunt like this...”
(He burst into tears mid-sentence) “Who’d do… who’d do something this vicious?”
“Shī-bō—did you see his face?”
“Remember anything?”
“No—too dark anyway, right?”
“But did he have some grudge against you?”
“Or was there another reason for this rough treatment?”
Right—quit stalling and call the police... No—can’t panic now.
“Between you and me—no secrets, right? But just in case there were… I’d need to know before anyone else.”

(He stepped away from the woman’s side, took out a candle, and lit it.)
Then—first under the pillow, then through the drawers of the chest and dressing table, inside her handbag—he rifled through every nook and cranny.
Finally he pulled out a bundle of letters and began reading them one by one.
(But nothing struck him as significant.) “You must find it quite unpleasant,” he thought, “that I’m doing this.”
“But I won’t let your tragic end get soiled by others’ vile suspicions.”
“Alright? Stay like this awhile longer—I’ll call the police now.”
(He started quietly toward the door but halted abruptly.) “Wait—one problem remains.”
“The police will come.”
“Good.”
“They’ll perform an autopsy.”
“That’s fine too.”
“But when they start narrowing suspects—they’ll point at me first!”
“No… uncertain.”
“At least harsh interrogation awaits.”
(He slumped into a chair.) “How will they question me?”
“What if they corner me over some trivial slip?”
“Such cases exist.”
“Shouldn’t I prepare answers for every possible question?”
“Even forgetting something carelessly could look like hiding it.”
“Misunderstandings… ambiguous replies… phrasing that cuts both ways—dangerous unless handled perfectly.”

Of course, if there's no evidence, that's that—but since evidence can be fabricated if need be... If coincidences aren't accepted as mere coincidences, then that's that. Alright—go ahead and ask me anything. I'll answer everything exactly as it was. Before this shock, before this grief—all words must speak nothing but truth.

Let God hear! Let Shī-bō hear! And let all men in the world who have wives hear! (He suddenly stood up and began pacing the room, speaking low and solemnly)—Your name?
Tatsuo Hideshima…—Age?
Thirty-six…—This is your wife, correct?
That is correct.
—Name?
Shizue.—Age?
Twenty-four.—When were you married?
October 1927…—Is the marriage registered?
It is not registered.
We meant to register it this year.—Your occupation?
I’m currently unemployed.
I was formerly a schoolteacher.
—Current income?
(A long silence) It’s irregular… Occasional tutoring… Mostly borrowing from friends… And sometimes gambling.—What do you mean by “gambling”?
Things I can’t discuss openly… mahjong, hanafuda…—Where?
I can’t say.
—This woman—your wife—what was she doing before marriage?
What do you mean by “what kind of thing”…?
Was she at home or employed?
She was at home.

Her mother temporarily ran a mahjong club.
Therefore, assistance with that person’s…
—Very well.
Where was it?
Ōmori Sannō… I don’t remember the address number.
It’s the Asami residence.—Before you got together, were there no other romantic relationships with the opposite sex?
“Well, I can’t guarantee that—were there rumors?”
“Well, I can’t say anything from my own mouth.”

A long silence.

Soon, the interrogation resumed, but this time, it became impossible to distinguish whether the questioning voice was coming from the man’s own mouth or from some other entity posing factual inquiries, until finally it became clear that it was unmistakably not his own voice.
That is, from somewhere indeterminate, the solemn yet professional voice of an interrogator began to seep through.
The man responded to the voice with utmost naturalness.

Voice: “You left home this morning, didn’t you?”

Man: “Yes.”
“I left at nine o’clock this morning.”

“Where did you go?”

“I went to Tokyo. Visited two or three friends’ houses, had dinner in Ginza…”

“Alright, I’ll ask about that later. What time train did you take on your way back? Or the time you arrived here will do.”

“It was around twelve-something when I arrived at the station… Then I walked back home.”

“You always walk, don’t you?”

“No—I sometimes take the bus. Sometimes I take a taxi straight from Tokyo.”

“When you entered the house—did you have any sort of unusual premonition?”

“No.”

“Even though the electricity was out?”

“Because when it gets late, the lights are sometimes turned off…”

“But you did try to turn on the entrance light right away, didn’t you?”

“………….”

“In total darkness, you wouldn’t even be able to hang up a hat, would you?”

The man entered the room still wearing his hat. Moreover, moonlight streamed in, making it not completely dark.

Voice: "When you tripped over her corpse, did you immediately realize she was dead?"

"The man—he realized when he lifted her up. Of course, being a patient, her condition had suddenly worsened, and that was that…"

"Was she in such critical condition?"

“No, she had become quite healthy, but given the nature of her illness, it could suddenly…”

“There’s no way you should leave such a sick person home alone, is there?”

“That may be so, but according to the doctor, there’s absolutely no danger as long as one doesn’t do anything rough. I’ve thoroughly instructed the sick person on all necessary precautions.”

“How long have you been here?”

“A little over a year. It has been three years since she fell ill.”

“Wasn’t nursing the patient starting to become a burden for you?”

“No—that’s absolutely not the case.”
“My wife was grateful for my unchanging love and consideration.”
“I too wanted nothing more than her quick recovery and spared no effort toward that end.”

“But isn’t caring for an invalid while fighting life’s uncertainties proving too heavy a load?”

“Too heavy.”
“Yet there exists but one way to lighten it—first make whole her failing body.”
“This alone remains.”

“But surely the patient, sensing your struggles, must have occasionally said things like ‘If only I weren’t here...’?”

The man—………….

“You too—rather than letting the patient remain in this state indefinitely, wouldn’t it be better to end her unfortunate life...”

“No, no—absolutely not! Such thoughts never once crossed my mind, even in dreams. As proof, though the doctor only needed to come once a month, I had him visit weekly instead. I skimped on my own meals to ensure she received proper nutrients. Look—” (He unwrapped a parcel) “This too—meat extract and raisin bread I bought for my wife.”

“Do you currently have a romantic relationship with another woman?”

“There’s nothing you could call a romantic relationship,” the man replied. “I avoid indulgences as much as possible. There’s simply no margin for such things.” His voice tightened defensively. “Let me state clearly—I don’t love any woman besides my wife.”

The interrogator pressed harder. “And your wife? Within your knowledge—any men she favored particularly? Secret correspondences perhaps…”

“None that I’m aware of.” A beat of hesitation betrayed him before he continued, “Even if such things had occurred… I believe I might have permitted them to some degree.” His words grew leaden with unspoken shame. “The power to fulfill all my wife’s desires… that was never mine to wield.”

“Then, have you never felt jealousy?”

The man—………….

“Is there or isn’t there?”

“I can’t say there isn’t any.”
“However, in such cases, if I just laugh at myself, that’s all there is to it.”
“I didn’t trust women, yet I didn’t find that particularly painful.”
“My wife, in that regard, did not show any particular vulnerability toward me, so even if I had tried to find a natural pretext, there would have been no basis for it.”

“There was just a somewhat suspicious air about her, I suppose.”
“Ah—so that’s how you took it? I have no recollection of saying such a thing. Not trusting women isn’t limited to my wife alone. No—even regarding my wife. Not trusting means there’s no need to doubt. Because even if I were deceived, it wouldn’t count as being deceived. Earlier, I spoke of having felt jealousy—but that was merely one of those utterly trivial delusions—a minor ripple of passion that anyone who’s ever loved a woman must inevitably experience at least once.”

“That’s enough about jealousy.”
“So how have you shown such feelings before your wife?”
“Give me one concrete example.”

Man—…………

“You can’t say you never let it show on your face at all.”

“I—Wait, please.”
“When you question me like that, I don’t know how to respond.”
“If you tell me to speak honestly about my ugliness, that’s a simple matter.”
“But what happens after that?”
“I am now someone who must clear myself of criminal suspicion.”
“With that in mind—please fully bear it in your thoughts—grant me the courage to state without reservation things that may seem disadvantageous to myself.”
“I trust in the discernment of the authorities.”
“No matter how ugly the truth may be, crime does not necessarily arise solely from it.”

“Your preamble is too long.”
“Just state the facts.”

“That’s right,” I said.
“Um, could you repeat the question?”

The voice pressed: “I’m asking why you felt jealous of your wife and how you acted when you did.”

“Understood,” I replied.
“To be frank, the doctor treating my wife seems to have taken a special interest in her lately.”
“Though he knew our situation, he charges no fees and lingers too long during visits.”
“Worse yet—he comes while I’m out, planting dahlias in the garden and stuffing scented pouches under her pillow, claiming they’re from others.”
“When I found out, I just laughed.”
“But then something happened.”
“Returning from Tokyo once, I found the entryway latched from inside.”
“That alone meant little—but circling to the garden showed every shoji tightly shut.”
“When I called out, his ‘Welcome back’ came before hers from within.”
“‘Odd,’ I thought—but left it at that.”
I climbed upstairs calmly.
My wife lay on the bed, her examination just finished.

The doctor closed his stethoscope case. “She’s much improved,” he said.
“Should recover fully now.”

I laughed—surprising even myself—and answered smoothly: “Ah, thanks to you.”

After he left, my wife made excuses about the locked door.
I pretended not to care, rambling instead: “Forgot the flag today—of all days, the Shokonsai Festival!”

“You’ll call this unnatural,” I added.

“That’s exactly right.”
“If we were to claim we reached that state through self-cultivation, it would be recognized as an outright falsehood.”
“As I stated earlier—that is the ugliness of truth.”
“What compelled me to act thus was, frankly speaking, calculation.”
“Calculation.”
“In other words—if my wife’s illness could be cured by that doctor’s hand—I resolved to shut my eyes to everything. That was my decision.”

Voice: “So—you know precisely how far their relationship had progressed.”

“No, I don’t know.”
“There’s no need to know.”
“If the doctor would abandon his practice out of some special interest in my wife and devote himself fully to her treatment, that would be fine—and if my wife would simply follow his instructions without reserve toward me, that would suffice.”
“Whether it’s love or not, the result remains unchanged.”
“No—rather, if it were true love, that would produce the best result.”

“Are you being sincere when you say such things?”

“Huh?”
“Why do you ask?”
“So what are you saying will become of me then?”

“Consider a scenario where your wife’s illness is cured yet her relationship with that doctor continues.”
“Even so, can you keep your eyes completely shut?”

“What do you mean?”
“In such a case, are you asking what I would do?”
“I haven’t thought about that.”
“I haven’t given any thought to such distant possibilities at all.”
“When that time comes, when it does, I believe there will be some way.”
“My wife would never abandon me.”

“Compose yourself and speak properly.”
“But didn’t you say your wife had already regained considerable health?”

Man—............

Voice: “What day did that doctor come recently?”

Man— “Last Friday.”
“He’s scheduled to come every Friday.”

Voice: “That doctor—where’s he from?”
“What kind of doctor is he?”

“Man—………….”

Voice: “Since it’ll be found out anyway, speak quickly.”

Man—…………

Voice: “I ask this to be thorough—that doctor may deny the facts as you imagine them.”
“He’d likely deny it.”
“Can you offer any evidence against that?”

Man: “Evidence? I’ve nothing concrete.”
“Besides, such things hardly matter.”
“It has no connection to this incident…”

Voice: “What do you mean by that?”
“How would *you* know?”

“Man—No—what I mean is… that doctor isn’t the culprit… In other words, he didn’t kill my wife, I’m saying.”
“Such reasoning simply doesn’t hold up.”
Voice: “You need not say unnecessary things.”
“This room remains exactly as it was when you entered.”

“My wife’s body has shifted position slightly.”

“This area being cluttered…”

“Ah—that was me…”

“What were you searching for?”

“First I checked whether anything was missing.”
“If we suppose they entered with theft in mind…”

(Suddenly changing tone) Ah, no good, no good—this isn’t working.
It’s all a jumbled mess.

(Approaching his wife’s corpse quietly) “Shī-bō—I was wrong to keep living after all.”
“There shouldn’t be two sorrows in losing you.”
“Two or three times when your death drew near, I prayed in my heart—‘Save this woman’s life.’”
“‘Let whatever happens to me happen...’”
“But the man who saved your life tried to snatch you from my hands.”
“In truth, he did take you.”
“Lately you’d been regaining your beauty and brightness day by day.”
“And that was through that man—for that man’s sake.”
“But that was for the best in its own way.”
“I simply waited for what was coming.”
“It has finally come.”
“Tomorrow—no, today is Friday again.”
“Momiyama would casually take you to the coast, I suppose.”
“Even someone like me could accompany you on walks.”
“But your heart won’t follow where I go anymore.”
“Then—then there’s nothing to be done, is there?”

A long silence.

In the meantime, the man picked up the woman’s body, laid it on the bed, and covered it with the bedspread.

Man—(lying down on the sofa) I’ll stay like this for a while.
“I’ll make sure to see what face that bastard makes.”
“I’ll never answer, no matter who asks what.”
“I am neither sad nor afraid.”
“The only regret is that I couldn’t die in one decisive act back then.”
(Taking the dagger from his pocket and unsheathing it) “If I’d just asked you to die with me without going through all this, maybe you’d have agreed without much fuss? Wouldn’t you have been willing then?”
(Raising himself halfway) “That’s right.”
“Shī-bō… You were always that kind of woman.”
I had completely forgotten.
“Not long after I was dismissed from the school, you received the terrible diagnosis of your illness.”
“Then, at that time—what did you say?”
“‘You didn’t want to die, did you?’”
I’m certain she said that while collapsing into my lap in tears.
“Between now and back then, your feelings must have changed, but when it comes to the motive that invites us both to death, don’t you think this time is more significant than that time?”
“Shī-bō!”
“If you understand that, I’ll tell you again now—”
“—Die.”
“Die with me.”

(Approaching the bed) “There’s no need for the darkness anymore.”
“I’ll show you my face like this.”
“You died obediently by my hand.”
“I should follow you right away—but Shī-bō, wait a moment longer.”
“I still have one task remaining.”
“I want to see Momiyama’s flustered face—just once.”
“Revenge? I won’t stoop to such petty tricks.”
“The mischief ends here.”
“You keep sleeping quietly like that—watch from afar and laugh at this world’s gaudy falsehoods.”

(Pacing around the room again) “Ah, Doctor—thank you for your long and devoted care.”
“Thanks to you, my wife no longer requires medical attention.”
“Oh ho—preparing to take your leave already?”
“Though our circumstances differ, we shall be retiring from life as of today.”
“Now then, it seems my wife wishes to offer her greetings.”

“Ah!”

“What has happened here?”

“Huh?”
“What on earth has happened here?”

“As you can see.”
“This one had to choose death to escape a certain man’s temptation—no, to overcome that temptation.”
“For my sake.”
“Do you understand?”
“We as a married couple had come to have that sort of relationship.”
“The fact that we two cannot be bound together except through death—before that fact, what need is there for hesitation?”
“I first stabbed this one’s heart.”

“A voice—I don’t understand.”
“I don’t understand any of it at all.”

“No, I don’t intend to cause you any trouble. On the contrary, for giving this one a measure of hope and happiness, I express my deepest gratitude from the bottom of my heart.”

A voice—As a doctor, I did everything I could.

“That’s correct,” said the man.
“What one wishes to believe—they’ll believe it so, I…(staggering) Ah—whom…what should I believe in?”
(Suddenly kneeling before the bed where the woman lay) “Hey—Shī-bō…I…To tell the truth—I know nothing.”
“What did you do? Eh?”
“Was there truly nothing?”
“Was there nothing at all?”
“Yeah—that’s obviously how it must be.”
“But what comes after this?”
“Next Friday?”
“The week after next?”
“No—not that—what lies beyond even further?”
“You wouldn’t understand?”
“I know this.”
“I knew.”
“You are healthy.”
“You are beautiful.”
“You are young.”
“You are bright—lively.”
“Where are you going?”
“Who’ll make you happy—earn your gratitude?!”

“Ah, what should I do?”
(Pressing the dagger in his hand to his chest, he thrusts forcefully and collapses atop the woman’s corpse.)

Curtain.