Pathway to Japanese Literature

Domomata's Death

(This work was inspired by a short anecdote from Mark Twain)

Characters

Hanada ┐

Sawamoto (Nickname: Savage) │

Tobe (Nickname: Domomata) ├ Young painter

Seko (Nickname: Young Master) │

Aoshima ┘

Tomoko The model girl

Place

Studio

Time

Modern times - a season of pleasant weather.

Sawamoto and Seko faced their easels with Tomoko as their model.
Tobe lay listlessly sprawled on the floor.

Sawamoto: (to Seko) “Hey Seko, Domomata’s groaning. He’s not going to die on us, is he?”

Seko: I'm positively dying to groan myself—to perish outright... Tomoko dear, you must be famished too.

Tomoko: “Can I speak now, Young Master?”

Seko: “Sure. You must be hungry.”

Tomoko: “It’s not that bad.”

Tobe groaned.

Tomoko: “What’s wrong, Mr. Tobe? Are you dying here? It’s too soon for that.”

Seko: “Tomoko-chan ate something before coming here.”

Tomoko: “Yes, I ate rice cakes.”

Sawamoto: “Shut up! Shut up! Ugh, I’m done for.” (Clutching his stomach) “Can’t even work up spit anymore, damn it.”

“Hmm, rice cakes... Quite the feast. How many did you want to eat?”
“Oh, how mean of you, Mr. Seko!”
“And were they filled with red bean paste? Soybean flour? Or sesame... Confess! How many of each did you eat...”

“Seko, cut it out! I’m really going to lose my temper.”
“The bastard who brings up that stuff when we’re starving… Ah, I’m done for.”
“I haven’t eaten for three days. Three days.”

“Sawamoto, being Savage through and through, lacks imagination as an artist.”
“I’ll produce rice cakes right here—no, listen.”
As Tomoko-chan tried to leave home, her mother said, “Tomoko, there’s something stored here you should eat first,” retrieving from the mouse-proof jar lavender-colored bean paste, Naples yellow soybean flour, and Paris grey sesame seeds like those Velázquez supposedly used…

Tobe let out a groan.

“That’s why you’re mocked as ‘Young Master’,” said Sawamoto. “What good do you think such undisciplined fantasies do for our art? We must stand rooted in the world of truth and create enduring works. So... I’m afraid my stomach’s empty and my head’s gone a bit strange.”

“Mr. Savage, you normally eat so much that it’s a problem at times like this… Still, why don’t the paintings by the people here sell at all?”

“It’s perfectly obvious, isn’t it. We paint magnificent things… The people of the world don’t understand our work… Ah, I’m done for.”

“Tomoko-chan, what was the texture of those rice cakes really like... Today I imagine them as the breasts of the Sistine Madonna.”
“Don’t you have some coins hidden in that obi of yours to buy even a sliver of Madonna’s flesh?”

“I didn’t.”
“I haven’t received anything from anyone for ages now.”

“Forgive us, Tomoko dear—we know your household’s poverty all too well...”

Sawamoto: "My mistake, my mistake. Haven't we given you anything all this time? We're entirely at fault here." He paused. There was nothing. There shouldn't have been anything. If there had been anything left to do now, they would have done it long ago.

“Won’t your mother get angry?”

“You could at least look displeased sometimes.”

“Then you won’t come around here anymore, right?”
(Groans)

“That’s… none of your business.”
“I’ll do as I please.”

“As long as Young Master Seko keeps himself in check, we’ll manage…”

“What a horrible thing to suggest… Stop it.”

Tobe groans.

Seko: Tomoko-chan, I beg you to come every day.
“I’m begging you.”
“We worship you, every single one of us.”
“When you leave, this studio becomes a wasteland.”
“We all gather around to praise you and stay up late into the night.”
“Though lately, if we stay up too late, our stomachs growl even more, so we've been trying to restrain ourselves a bit.”

Tomoko: How do you praise me?
"They say that Tomoko's a round-faced hussy."

Seko: "But without income, your household can't make ends meet either."

Tomoko thought it utterly ridiculous—such obvious nonsense.

“So just as Domomata said—you’re changing shores somewhere after all.”

“Who knows?”
“I suppose there’s no choice but to do that.”
“I absolutely detest painters who put on airs as ‘art masters’ or ‘professors,’ but… No—truth be told, those types… how should I put it? They act all high-and-mighty yet can’t keep their hands to themselves… Still, they do pay well.”
“If I were to run out of food like you all have, I couldn’t last half a day.”
“A full five grown men gathered here, and yet you’re all utterly spineless.”

“Damn it... Get out! Get out right now!”

“Didn’t I already say it’s none of your business? How disagreeable you are, Mr. Tobe!”

(Tears of frustration welled in her eyes)

Tobe groaned.

“Even without being told, I’ll leave whenever I please—it’s not like I’m your wife or anything.”

“Anyone who betrays us just because our work goes unrecognized... get out.”

“When people are hungry, they become irritable,” said Seko. “Since Mr. Tobe’s cantankerousness comes from an empty stomach—it’s like a demon’s leapt onto Pegasus.” He turned to Tomoko with theatrical concern. “You mustn’t take offense now.”

"But there aren't any unreasonable people like Mr. Tobe around."
"In this filthy shack filled with painters whose works never sell—I've been coming here for over half a year now."
"You should be damn grateful for that!"
"And you don't even try to understand someone's feelings..."

Tobe: "You—" (pointing at Seko) "just want to see this guy's face..."

Tomoko: "Jealous much?"

Tobe: "Idiot."
(Groans)

Sawamoto: “Ah, I’m done for.”
“If I’m going to die, I’ll die while painting.”
“I’ll collapse with a paintbrush still in my hand.”
“Hey, Tomoko-chan, quit your griping and get up on the model stand. ...Still, what’s taking Hanada and Aoshima so long?”

“They’re really late,” said Seko. “Might they have been slaughtered without resistance after the enemy saw through their stratagem? What exactly does this ‘scheme, scheme’ business mean that Hanada keeps going on about?”

“Hey, Tomoko-chan... Get up there,” said Sawamoto. “You’re our model. You draw too, Young Master.”

“Yes, I’ll draw,” replied Seko. “What’s with all this ‘scheme, scheme’ talk... Hey Savage, give me the Garanse.”

Sawamoto declared, “That very pigment is what I had been seeking from thee.” Then added bluntly, “Don’t you have any either?”

Tomoko: “You should draw too, Domomata-san. You won’t earn money just by groaning—it’s not like you’re a car engine!”

Sawamoto: “Domomata, hand over the Garanse.”

Tobe crawled toward his paint box and rummaged through it. "Not here."

Seko jabbed, "Pegasus doesn't falter."
"You—get up and paint."
"What about Hanada's paint box?"
He hauled a box from the neighboring room, singing as he searched:

"Fashion one tube of Garanse!
Daub the heavens with Garanse!
Limn trees in Garanse!
Trace grasses in Garanse!
Render even His Majesty in Garanse!
Depict the gods themselves reverent in Garanse!
Hesitate not! Shrink not!"

Go straight

Thy poverty

"Cover it with one tube of Garanse!"

Murayama Kaita died in poverty too.
Aah, there probably wasn't any Garanse in his paint box either.
Because he had painted them all reverently.

"Our Father who art in heaven"
We'll skip the middle part.
"Not 'Give us this day our daily bread'—'Grant it to us this very day!'"
And grant us Garanse while You're at it.
As for the rest, we'll skip them because we're hungry.
"Amen."
Well, grant us Garanse.
Grant us Garanse.
Grant us our daily bread.
(Searches for something wrapped in silver paper) Grant us—(opens the silver paper with growing delight)—daily... bread... Grant us our daily bread—(suddenly leaps up and waves the paper package)—Bravo! Bravo! Bravisimo!... Oh, the sun has risen!

Everyone involuntarily rushed toward Seko.

Sawamoto: Did you find something edible?

Tobe: Garanse?

“Sawamoto, you’re such a petty man! Just because you’re nicknamed ‘Savage’ doesn’t mean an artist should be asking about ‘something edible’.”

Sawamoto: Just asking if something edible turned up—why’s that petty?
“Ah, I’m done for.”
"Mentioning something edible ruined everything... Damn it, I'll paint."
“If there’s no Garanse, I’ll paint with blood.”

He started heading toward the easel.

Seko: “Good resolve.”
“So Tomoko-chan, what do you think this is?”
“This is none other than the leftover chocolate—what a waste!”

Sawamoto and Tobe eagerly closed in on Seko.

Tobe: Give it to me.

“This isn’t Garanse,” said Seko.

Tobe fired back: “I only asked if it was Garanse ’cause that’d be trouble if it was! I don’t want any damn Garanse! That’s mine! Hand it over!”

“If there’s no Garanse,” Sawamoto interjected, “I’m not above taking whatever grub’s going either. Quit your bullshit, Domomata! This here’s mine!”

“Stop acting like starving dogs!” Seko snapped. “Wait, wait! I’ll distribute it fairly.” He scored the chocolate with a palette knife. “There—perfect equity.”

Sawamoto: “What’s the point of dividing it into four?”

Seko: (While making Sawamoto and Tobe eat the chocolate) “Of course, I shall dedicate the final piece to our guardian goddess Tomoko-chan.”
What bitter disillusionment I must endure!
If Garanse were here instead of this chocolate, you wouldn’t be getting so wild-eyed and frenzied.
Even the Muse goddess becomes nothing but an ugly old crone before a piece of chocolate.
(This time he starts eating) “You damned chocolate that degraded Muse into a withered hag—the artists shall have their vengeance now! Steel yourself!”
(Crunching away with relish.)
(Extending the final piece toward Tomoko) “Tomoko-chan, here you go.”

Tomoko: “Ugh, no way! Who would eat someone’s half-eaten food?”

Seko: (With a surprised look) “Huh? You won’t eat it?”
“This?”
“Not eating it? You’re quite the noble one.”
“I never realized your tastes were so nobly refined.”
“You’re truly commendable, I must say.”
“You’re positively aristocratic—in the best possible way, of course.”
“Like a lady, huh?”
“Then I’ll…”

Before Sawamoto and Tobe could pounce, Seko swiftly popped it into his mouth.

Seko: "They're here! They're here! Looks like Hanada and the others have come."
"Wipe your mouths quick."

Hanada and Aoshima appeared.

Hanada (snapping his fingers): “You lot kept calling me philistine this, philistine that.”
“Young Master, what do you say?”

Seko: “I’m currently risking my life to avenge our defiled Muse.”
“Wait.”
(Speaking with awkward mouth movements)

“Hanada, you bastard! You’re eating my chocolate.”
“There shouldn’t be anything else to eat in this studio.”
“I put it away properly in the paint box yesterday.”

“Sneaking food behind our backs... You think you can paint with chocolate or something, you bastard?”
“Putting chocolate in the sacred paint box... That’s why you’re a philistine, you bastard.”

“Say what you will,” Hanada snapped. “But if I weren’t here, you’d have had no choice but to starve to death.”

“Fine,” Sawamoto growled. “Just get on with explaining your damn plan.”

Hanada: “That’s right.”
“We can’t afford to dawdle around.”
“Hey Aoshima—did Dowaki say he’d come with that Kuzuryu bastard?”

“He did seem to say something like that,” said Aoshima. “When it comes to Mr. Dowaki’s daughter—well, I became completely smitten.” He rubbed his neck sheepishly. “I was so captivated by her that I missed about half of what the old man said.”

Sawamoto: “Idiot.”

Aoshima: “That girl must truly understand art.”
“She’s a maiden born to be an artist’s wife.”
“It’s ironic that such an angel could be born to that utter philistine Dowaki.”
And she'll have her heartfelt longing for art trampled upon… only end up married off some rich fool of a son… I'd give anything paint someone like her my model just once.

“Is that so.”

“Of course it is.”

“Since it seems I’m no longer needed today, I’ll be going home.”

“I need you.”
“They’re all just talking nonsense.”
“I’ll paint…”

“Instead of groaning again and collapsing on the floor...”

“Enough... Just leave these guys alone.”

Tobe alone began to draw, using Tomoko as his model.
In the meantime, the following conversation took place.

“It’d be really troublesome if Tomoko-chan leaves.”
“Aoshima, you bastard—this is why we can’t have you spouting nonsense.”
“...Anyway, everyone calm down and listen to my report.”
“Domomata and Tomoko-chan are listening right there… Wait.”
(Trying to check his watch and finding it missing) “Seven already?”
“Not seven—more like eleven already.”
“We have to hurry or we’ll be too late.”
“This morning, Aoshima and I split up—he went to Dowaki’s garden, and I went to Kuzuryu’s shop.”
“He’s an utterly unbearable bastard.”
“At first they gave us no opening, but I finally lured them out with a tempting offer.”
“I can’t reveal the name yet, but among our group there is one exceptionally great genius.”
“Whether in oils or conte crayon, his works were utterly exceptional—the principal of the art school, Mr. Shiraishi of the Kuroba Society, Mr. Fujita, every last teacher worthy of the title who saw his pieces could only marvel and insist he must exhibit them. But that stubborn fool wouldn’t agree—not only that, he held no regard for today’s established masters. Through poverty he kept silent, steadily painting away.”
“So in all the world, aside from our group, there’s not a single soul who knows of him.”

Sawamoto: "Yeah, that's absolutely right."

Hanada: "However, that man was driven by poverty and exhausted by hunger—until he finally died yesterday."

Sawamoto: "Don't spout nonsense! I'm still alive here!"

Hanada: "Who said you were the dead one?... Anyway, we've been plunged into profound grief. The reason we five retreat to poverty's depths yet hum cheerfully through our days is because there's work we can't entrust to anyone else. Until completing that work, even if Death himself crawled here begging, we'd charge forth with fury enough to slay him! Among us all—in both grit and skill—he stood head and shoulders above the rest. We'd pinned our hopes on him to unleash world-shaking art from Tokyo's gutters. But perhaps even gods envy such excellence." His voice dropped. "He collapsed. He was fire. He was flame. To burn was his very undoing."

“You bastard… Did you say that?”

Hanada: “Yeah.”

Tobe spoke well.

Hanada: “I also said this.
He had a younger brother, and that brother’s wife was a woman beautiful in heart and form.
And so that woman came to our studio every day and became our model.
The resolve of that woman who devoted herself to a group like ours—materially almost powerless—was a beautiful thing.
He had secretly been in love with his brother’s wife.
But it was predestined fate—there was nothing he could do.
He suffered.
And he painted numerous works depicting that suffering and boundless loneliness.
While there are excellent works among his landscapes and still lifes, when it comes to that woman's portrait, there are no words but to call it a transcendent masterpiece.”

Seko: “Hey now, who’re you talking about?”
“Tomoko-chan—you must remember this.”

Hanada: “You’ll understand if you just shut up and listen. ...Now then, with him dead, we comrades feel duty-bound to preserve his works for posterity through proper channels.”
“So I went to Kuzuryu.”
“Given you’re an established art dealer through and through, showing discernment befitting your trade would serve both your honor and professional standing.”
“How about taking full charge and holding a posthumous exhibition?”
“Then that bastard Kuzuryu goes—all reluctant-like—‘Since this sounds advantageous, I might set aside profit margins. But if you masters praise it so, how about getting catalog endorsements from your teachers?’”

Seko: "I won't have any of that! If we need those teachers' stamps of approval for our art, I'll go die in a ditch!"

Tomoko: "Bravo, Young Master!"

Seko: "Stop teasing me!"

Hanada: “Exactly.”
“First off—why would those established masters deign to endorse stiff-necked rebels like us? They shouldn’t have any connection with us whatsoever... Anyway, I told him—”
“In that case, we must decline.”
“His paintings aren’t such paltry works.”
“They’re canvases that blaze their own trail.”
“Isn’t discovering such pieces the true measure of an art dealer’s discernment?”
“If substantial profits don’t spring from that discernment, then no real profit ever will.”

Sawamoto: The philistine showed his true colors.

Hanada: If I make some big profit doing such things, call me philistine all you like.
"I'm different from you lot hiding behind your inflexibility to play sages... Now then—Kuzuryu started tilting that big head of his."
"When I said 'Come take a look,' he went 'In that case I'll come right up.'"
"...Now comes the real scheme... Hey! Everyone—listen solemnly."
"Who among you—if you died here today—could face posterity unashamed of your paintings? Answer."
"Savage—what say you?"

Sawamoto: What’s the point if we don’t?

Hanada: “Alright.”
“What about you, Seko?”

Seko: “I don’t paint based on shame or shamelessness.”
“I paint because I want to paint.”

Hanada: "Understood."
"So that sentiment is pure indeed."

Seko: "Now you bring that up... What a cold fish you are."

Hanada: "What about Domomata?"

Tobe: I hate everything I've created. But compared to others', I think mine are better. I know that.

Hanada: I've already heard Aoshima's stance. Aoshima and I don't find it shameful to leave our work to posterity. We are all, so to speak, children. But children aren't always adults' servants.

“Damn right we are!” they chorused.

Hanada: “Alright then.”
“One of us five has to die in this situation.”
“They must become a sacrifice to generate funds for the remaining four to continue painting and vanish from our group.”

Seko: “Hey now, Hanada—have you lost your mind? We’re artists! Not martyrs!”

Hanada: “One dies for art’s sake! We ought to have at least that much fighting spirit! In exchange, the dead man’s paintings will be preserved through Kuzuryu’s hands for posterity.”

Sawamoto: “What a brainless scheme you’ve cooked up! The bastard who thought this up should just die first himself!”

Hanada: “Would it be fine if I died?... Ah right—I’d forgotten to mention one more thing. The man chosen to die gets Tomoko-chan as his wife—a reward! I’d neglected to state this crucial condition! Hey Tomoko-chan... Domomata, quit painting already... Tomoko-chan, I beg you—won’t you properly marry whoever you fancy among us five?”

“How utterly absurd!”

“Didn’t you once gush about there being one among us five you’d consider making your husband?”

“Well… I suppose there might be someone like that.”

“Wait, Hanada.”
“When you say ‘there might be someone,’ that ultimately means there is someone, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know.”

“When she says ‘I don’t know,’ that seals it.”
“Once you choose someone, we four left behind will cleanly cast off our lingering attachments and move heaven and earth to unite you two.”
“We’ll pour our souls into making this work.”
“So choose seriously from among us five.”
“When it comes to this, we Bohemians are free souls.”
“Tomoko-chan—since you’ve joined our ranks, you’re a Bohemian too.”
“Well?”
“Isn’t that right?”
“Just choose without hesitation.”
“Even if we’re not picked, we’ll bear it like Stoics… so don’t fret.”
“Not one of us would object to having Tomoko-chan as a wife.”
“Well? Are we all agreed?”
“If so, say ‘Yes.’”

“Yes.”

“What happens if I choose?”

“That guy has to die for the remaining four.”

“Stop with your cruel jokes already—stop mocking people!”
(Tearing up)

Hanada: "Oh come on—this isn't a joke. It's simple—all he needs to do is die quick."

Tobe: "Hanada, you're a cruel bastard... Making Tomoko-chan a widow right off... You bastard."

Hanada: (Laughs uncontrollably as if struck by inspiration) "What's with you lot? Tomoko-chan's supposed to really..."

Seko: "So he's got to die then?"

Hanada: "He'll end up dying, you see."

Seko: “Isn’t it the same thing?”

Hanada: "It's not the same."

Aoshima: "It's your phrasing that's flawed, Hanada. He won't actually die—we'll just declare him dead. You grasp this now, yes? To put it plainly—it's not about perishing, nor exactly about meeting one's end... or perhaps not entirely."

Hanada: "In other words—it's like this. Get it? Keep a cool head and listen carefully. Listen up—the one chosen by Tomoko-chan is actually that chosen guy's younger brother. Listen up. And Tomoko-chan and that younger brother have been husband and wife all along. Tomoko-chan here has understanding and sympathy for us, so she became our model since we're too poor to hire one properly. Listen up. Now get this—Tomoko-chan's supposed older brother is actually one of us five comrades. That guy falls for Tomoko-chan and ends up dying halfway through his work because of poverty and love. Have you got it now?... Still don't understand?... What a hopeless bunch you are. Well then, Aoshima—guess we'll have to show them with the real deal. Let's bring that thing in."

Hanada and Aoshima carried in a coffin covered with a black cloth.

Tomoko: “No... such an ill omen...”

Sawamoto: “You’ve completely lost your mind, haven’t you?”

Hanada: Come on, Tomoko-chan, choose one from among us.
“I’ll take responsibility—your husband will never die.”

Tomoko: But since you’ve brought in such a coffin…

Hanada: “The one who’ll become the corpse and go in here is this.”
(As he said this, he pointed to the plaster mask hanging on the wall) “We just need to paint this and put it in as a substitute for the man you chose.”
“Suppose I’m the one you pick, right?”
“That’s truly how I wish it could be.”
“Then I become my own younger brother and marry you.”
“And then this guy”—he tapped the plaster mask—“becomes my substitute and enters this coffin.”

Tomoko: "Ah... I'm starting to get it a little now."

“Get it now?” Hanada pressed. “The genius painter Hanada will die. He’ll truly disappear from this world for good. But in exchange, Hanada’s younger brother will materialize out of thin air. That’s me. Which makes me your husband.”

“Hmm... I’m starting to get it quite a bit now.”

Hanada: “See?”
“There, that vulgarian Kuzuryu and dim-witted art-loving nouveau riche Dowaki Samon will come barging in with some daughter in tow.”
“The plan’s this—I’ll fully become Hanada’s younger brother and put on a tragic scene here with you.”
“Well? You hermits finally get it?”
“I’ll keep living as Hanada’s younger brother, but we’ll treat the real Hanada—the elder brother—as dead.”
“Otherwise he’ll have to die.”
“He must die now.”
“That’s why I’ve been drilling ‘he dies, he dies’ into your thick skulls from the start, but you blockheads still don’t grasp it!”
“...Even if my younger brother becomes some genius painter continuing my legacy, the brutal truth remains—I’ve got to die.”
“Die young, and anyone gets called a genius—that’s how it works.”
(Staring at the plaster mask) “Death’s always solemn and sad, no matter what.”
“So if we’re sacrificing this much, I damn well deserve being chosen as Tomoko-chan’s husband!”

“I certainly won’t choose someone like you yet.”

“You shouldn’t press so insistently—women are like that.”

Sawamoto: I'm finished.
I loved a woman once.
Then hunger came pressing in.
Ah, I should just die.
Let me die clutching a paintbrush as a genius painter.

Tomoko: Mr. Hanada, I'm not taking some dying man for my husband, am I?
"My husband-to-be ends up dead either way, doesn't he?"

“You shouldn’t press so insistently—that’s how women are.”

“Everyone’s grasped my scheme,” said Hanada. “The hour has come to battle our shared foe—the philistines.” He turned to Aoshima. “Give us a quick report about your skirmish with Dowaki.”

Aoshima straightened up. “I barged right into the sprawling garden of the Dowaki estate and set up my easel. Then along comes Dowaki himself, parading about with his daughter in tow.” He demonstrated their affected gaits with sweeping arm motions. “They planted themselves beside me and stared at my work—I thought he’d rage about the trespassing, but damn if he didn’t snort like he was impressed!”

“Even the young lady condescended to murmur ‘How lovely,’” he added with a theatrical flourish. “I thought ‘This is it!’ and scrambled for what to say next, but what’s the use? That old sea-dragon’s seen every trick—my words’d just slide off his scales.” Aoshima shuddered visibly. “Being near that creature curdles your blood.”

His voice shifted to mimic Dowaki’s unctuous tone: “‘Might I inquire where you studied? Such remarkable technique.’” Aoshima puffed out his chest in recollection. “I followed your script to the letter—‘My daubs? Mere trifles! But my late comrade’s works... ah, had they seen daylight, they’d have shaken the art world to its foundations!’”

“The old vulture’s eyes lit up—he’s got a nose for curiosities, that one.” Aoshima’s hands fluttered like auction paddles. “I told him Master Kuzuryu would be coming to appraise them—‘Do join us!’—then bolted before...” He trailed off, cheeks coloring. “The young miss kept zapping me with these... these animalistic electric vibes. Unbearable.”

Why must beauty only root itself in nature morte within our realm—we who hunger most fiercely for splendor?

Seko: "Let's find a way to paint that young lady."

Aoshima: "If she becomes my model, I'll paint something surpassing the Mona Lisa!"

Seko: "I shall discern Decadent beauty through Watteau's spirit!"

Aoshima: "What are you talking about? You haven't even seen her!"

Seko: "You and your artist's imagination..."

Hanada: "Report concluded."
"Business first."
"Now then—is everyone prepared?"
"Tomoko-chan—choose."

Tomoko: “I... I'm so embarrassed.”

Seko: “Use that innocence of yours and get it done. What’s the big deal? Just say who in one word—that’s all there is to it.”

“Alright, I’ll try my hardest and gather my courage… but please, whoever I end up choosing, don’t say you don’t want me.”
“Otherwise, I’ll really kill myself!”

Since Hanada made a vow, everyone would be okay.

Seko paced about with confidence.
Hanada repeatedly dropped heavy objects to draw attention to himself.
Sawamoto exaggerated his pained expression to elicit sympathy.
Aoshima sat down in front of Tomoko and tried to stare intently at her face.
Tobe began cleaning the paint box.

Tomoko (turning her face away from the others): “Let’s begin then.”
“Mr. Hanada, you’re so resourceful and skilled at painting—you’ll surely establish a splendid art association someday and become its chairman.”
“If you were to take a bride, beautiful, educated women would come flocking.”
“Mr. Sawamoto, you’re so manly—an honest Savage-san.”
“We’ve had so many arguments, but once you get a wife, you’ll dote on her endlessly and have loads of children too.”
“And then diapers will hang in a lively row on the clothesline.”
“Mr. Aoshima—if you run an association with Mr. Hanada—you’ll surely become great.”
“The time will come when everyone recognizes your paintings and there’s a huge uproar.”
“And then Mr. Dowaki and his ilk might come bowing their heads, saying ‘Please take our beautiful young lady.’”
“But you mustn’t be too unfaithful.”
“Mr. Seko… you’re our Young Master.”
“You’re kind and considerate, your features are the most refined and handsome, and you’d make an ideal friend.”
“But you’ll surely end up hating Japan or something and running off abroad.”
“Take good care of yourself.”
“Mr. Tobe is a stammerer, short-tempered, and difficult.”
“No matter how much time passes, your paintings are unlikely to sell.”
“But you put on this tough act yet feel strangely lonely...”

“Damn it…”

“If I’ve spoken harshly, please forgive me.”
“But I thank everyone from the bottom of my heart.”
“All of you have been so kind to someone like me—a clueless person who doesn’t understand a thing.”
“It never made any money, but I was happiest coming here rather than anywhere else.”
“While watching everyone endure hardships together—each thinking themselves the greatest—yet studying in harmony, somehow I’d find tears spilling out.”
“……But I... I have to choose my husband.”
“This is unbearable.”
“Even if I choose the right person, please don’t be angry.”
“I may not look it, but I intend to choose within my station... (She suddenly rushes to Tobe, sits directly before him, and bows her head) Mr. Tobe, I will become your wife.”
“Please don’t be angry.”
“When I think of you, I feel strangely sad and end up crying...”

Tobe: “You... Don’t joke... Don’t...”

Hanada: “Well done, Tomoko-chan.”
“That choice suits you perfectly.”
“But truth be told—until this very moment—I never imagined it would be Domomata’s turn.”
“When I think Tomoko-chan will belong solely to Tobe and stop coming here from tomorrow onward... it suddenly feels like autumn has fallen upon us all... But enough talk.”
“We must bravely submit to fate in silence.”
“Now let us celebrate Tobe and Tomoko-chan’s future.”

Tobe: “I’ve hit Tomoko-chan before.”

Tomoko: “Yes, I was indeed hit twice.”

Tobe: “Even so… you still intend to come to me?”

Tomoko: “I will. In return, this time I won’t just be getting hit all the time.”

Seko: “If it’s marital quarrel mediation you need, I’ll handle it for you.”

Tobe: "Mind your own business."

Tomoko (simultaneously): "Mind your own business."

Aoshima: “You’ve grown quite assertive.”

Hanada: “This is no time for that.
Kuzuryū and his crew will be here any minute now.
Hey, newlyweds! You’re today’s main attraction—better get moving.
Tomoko-chan... no, Mrs., head to the garden and gather flowers for your brother’s coffin decorations.
Domomata—drag out every damn painting you’ve ever made and sign them all.
Aoshima—slap some paint on this plaster mask till it looks like Domomata’s death face.
Sawamoto and Seko—tidy up this dump... but keep it studio-chic.
Don’t sanitize it so much you strip away artistic dignity.
And don’t forget to artfully scatter some crap around.
Meanwhile I’ll... I’ll transform Domomata into Domomata’s brother... Your paintings are mostly next door, yeah?
This batch is yours.
Take every last one of these too.”

Tomoko went to the garden, while Tobe and Hanada entered a separate room.

Aoshima: “No matter how much paint you smear on this Apollo mask, it won’t look like Domomata’s face. Needs something more snub-nosed and uneven... Well, this’ll have to do—Beethoven it is.”

Aoshima began to paint.

Sawamoto: “Ah，I’m done for.”
After the excitement subsided，he suddenly felt hungry again.
That Hanada bastard really did go overboard.
That lovely wild child Tomoko-chan reduced to something as mundane as a wife… Ah，I’m done for.
“Young Master，you clean up however you want.”

Seko: “I became utterly pessimistic.”
“If we trace it back, it’s Aoshima’s fault.”
“If it weren’t for that model incident with Miss Dowaki, fate would have walked a more proper path.”

“It’s not my fault—it’s Miss Dowaki’s existence that’s to blame! No, it’s not her existence—it’s old man Dowaki who allowed her to exist! In short, that fossil’s completely warped our destinies... How’s this—starting to look like Domomata?... For twisting others’ fates, Dowaki deserves maximum punishment!”

Sawamoto: “Exactly.”
“After all, that bastard’s financial power was being used to corrupt beauty standards.”
“Because of that, we’re starving so much we can’t even eat three meals.”
“Domomata ended up dead and turned into a painted Beethoven.”
“Unless we make them pay a fine hefty enough to buy back Domomata’s life, our anger won’t subside.”

Seko: “And thus, this will ultimately educate Dowaki and Kuzuryū.”
“No matter how much we make them pay, Domomata’s paintings aren’t worth that price.”
“This time they’ll behold true art for the first time in their lives.”
“We’ll sell them at exorbitant prices!”

Sawamoto: “Then we can eat our fill and store up our strength!”

Aoshima: “That’s right.”

Sawamoto: “Ah, I hope our common enemies the Philistines come soon.
Hey Young Master, let’s do some work.”

The two of them cleaned up most of the studio.
Hanada and Tobe entered.

Tobe’s head had been shaved into a tiger-stripe pattern, his beard completely removed.

Hanada: “Gentlemen, concerning Domomata Tobe’s demise, his esteemed younger brother has rushed here upon receiving the tragic news.”
“Allow me to present him.”

Everyone bowed their heads while stifling laughter.

Tobe: “I... no, let me see my brother’s death face.”

Aoshima: “How’s this?”
(showed the plaster mask)

Tobe: “My brother was one homely man, I must say.”

Hanada: “It’s fine that he’s homely, but there’s no beard. If neighbors come to offer condolences, it’ll be problematic, so let’s shave it off and plant a beard. Then we need to create the body... Take this coffin next door... Hey Domomata’s brother—you stay here and sign!”

Leaving Tobe behind, the others exited.
Tobe was busily signing.

Tomoko entered holding flowers.

Tomoko (not noticing Tobe and attempting to go to the next room): “Um… excuse me…”

“Tomoko-chan... It’s me... It’s me...”
“Oh... You’re not Mr. Tobe.”
“I was supposed to be your... I’m Tobe’s brother.”

“Oh, that’s right,” said Tomoko.
“Well, I suppose that’s how it should be.”
“As Mr. Tobe’s younger brother, you’re meant to be younger than him, aren’t you?”

Tobe rasped, “Tomoko... I’ve... loved you since we first met.”
“But I thought... someone like me had no business with women... gave up entirely...”

“I’m sorry,” Tomoko murmured.
“When I first came here, I could barely tell if someone as silent and sullen as you even existed—but little by little... I’ve grown fond of you.”
“When Mr. Hanada said I could choose anyone as my husband, I was overjoyed... but then I worried terribly you must despise me.”

Tobe: "Anyway I'm happy... I've got no wants left except my art... I won't hit you no more."

Tomoko (tearing up happily): "You can hit me if you want."
"Just be good to me, okay?"
"I'll cherish you with everything I've got too."
"I know full well you're like a treasure pearl - shines brighter the more it's loved."
"You're a mud-caked treasure pearl."

“I can’t speak... so I can’t say what I’m thinking...”

Tobe attempted to take Tomoko's hand and pull her closer.

Sawamoto suddenly flung open the door and appeared.

Sawamoto: “Hey Domomata... Gimme that damn jacket of yours. We’re gonna put it on your brother.”
“Wear this instead... Tomoko-chan—you get those flowers?”
“That one?”
“Hand ’em over—gotta deck out the coffin...”

Sawamoto exited.
...Tobe and Tomoko tried to snuggle.

In the adjacent room, laughter roared; the two sat down apart, looking frustrated.

Tomoko: "When I go home tonight, I'll tell Mother right away and make her agree whether she likes it or not."
"And your name this time is..."

Tobe: "What name should I go by..."
Tomoko: "Fine, I'll give you my name. It can't be Tobe Tomomata... That would be strange."
"You know... you're going to become a painter again, right..."

Tomoko tried to approach.

Seko entered.

“Hey, hey. Because your painting was still here…”

Tobe found him annoyingly loud…

Seko exited.

In the adjacent room came roars of laughter; then, having finished decorating, they all entered carrying the coffin.

Hanada: "Hurry up, hurry up... They're already coming!"
"Put this chair by the coffin here... place this over there—hey Aoshima, move that to your side—everyone lend a hand! In an hour's time we'll be feasting like kings!"
"Savage, don't cower like that."
"Disgraceful."
"...This should do... Now everyone, take your positions on stage."
"The young couple takes that chair."
After all, we found ourselves in the tragic position of having to sacrifice one precious friend just to put food in our mouths.
Domomata would disappear from our group of five comrades.
Domomata's younger brother would likely embark on a journey under open skies with his wife Tomoko-chan.
That those of us who worked earnestly with conscience must endure such great loss was a truly tragic thing in this world.
However, we had to fight to the end for the art we cherished.
We could no longer afford to be selective in our methods to achieve our cause.
We swore by the spirit of Domomata lying dead in this coffin.
We swore to produce art splendid enough to be worthy of this friend's death.

The group swears.

“We swear to combine our strength and make that villainous broker Kuzuryu and that sham art patron Dowaki pay every last fine from their coffers,” declared Hanada.

“We swear,” chorused the group.

“To achieve this, we swear to cast aside our usual idiotic honesty and skillfully employ every stratagem and scheme,” Hanada continued.

The group swore.

Hanada: “But anyone likely to slip up should stay silent and keep out of sight. Then shall we four bid our final farewell to Tobe and Tomoko-chan? Tobe, your art up to now will remain in this world as the work of Tobe—the genius who died young. But we can’t help feeling bad about cutting your life short here. Still, considering you’ve gained Tomoko-chan as compensation, don’t complain. Right? By doing so, you’ll start fresh as Tobe’s younger brother. That’s what we’re waiting for. Well then, goodbye.”

The group take turns shaking hands.

Hanada: Tomoko-chan, you were our strength, our comfort, our mother, our dear girl.
“Parting with you is truly painful for us.”
"So please allow us all to kiss your forehead just once."
“Hey Tobe, that’s fine with you, right?”

Alright then - I'll allow it just this once.

Hanada: Tomoko-chan, goodbye.
(Kisses her forehead)

“Goodbye, Mr. Hanada.”

Sawamoto: “I'll pass.”
“I’ll stick to a handshake.”

Tomoko: "Goodbye, Savage-san."

Aoshima: "Goodbye."
(He kissed her forehead)

Tomoko: "Take care now, Mr. Flirt."

Seko: "Let me see those lips properly."
"Ahh."
(He kissed her forehead)

Tomoko: "Goodbye, cute Young Master."

Even Tomoko finally succumbed to the mounting emotion and burst into tears.

“Alright,” said Hanada. “And to Domomata’s younger brother—if you grow slovenly, your hair and beard will lengthen until you risk reverting back to Domomata. Swear you’ll never cultivate that unkempt beard again.”

“I won’t permit it,” Tomoko declared.

A knocking sound was heard at the door outside.

A voice: “Excuse me, pardon the intrusion. This is Kuzuryu. Is Mr. Hanada present?”

Another voice: “I am Dowaki...”

Hanada: “There they are.”
“...Is everyone ready? Are you all right?... We’ve suffered a terrible misfortune!”
“We’re in the depths of sorrow here.”
“If anyone dares laugh now, we’ll all punish them as traitors colluding with the enemy! Remember that!”
“Kuzuryu and Dowaki... We’re opening it now, just a moment please... Though Kuzuryu and Dowaki are insufferable philistines, everyone swear not to let contrived anger ruin our plans!”

The group swore.

Hanada: “Those who can cry—make sure to shed tears from time to time, got it?… I’m opening it now.”

Sawamoto: “Hanada, wait a moment…” (pours two bowls of water and carries them to Tobe) “Hey Domomata, I’ll have you collect your tears in here. This one’s Tomoko-chan’s. Stick ’em behind your backside. Don’t get flustered and spill it.”

Hanada: Shh.
(SUPPRESSING LAUGHTER DIRECTED AT THE AUDIENCE) Now I'll open it!
Everyone, keep scowling.

Tomoko has been genuinely crying since earlier.
Tobe scoops water from the bowl and applies it around his eyes.
Hanada goes to open the door.

--CURTAIN--