Pathway to Japanese Literature

Prologue

My name is Kyogoku Mitsuko.

I am seventeen years and three months old.

My formal education ended with middle school graduation.

Due to illness, I remain bedridden—

By myself—I cannot move even one meter.

The poetry I've read—

—amounts to just two volumes: Miyazawa Kenji and Homer's Odyssey.

And yet—do not be astonished—

Under the title Narcissus and the Wooden Fish—

I will write a long, long poem—
Please, everyone, brace yourselves.

In this work, I

Humanity, do not grow arrogant—
dropping hydrogen bombs and atomic bombs left and right—
Take care not to shatter the Earth into pieces!

America and Soviet, do not get carried away—
wars you don’t even want
Take care not to get cornered into having to wage wars you don’t even want!”
I intend to scold the adults.
Did I startle you?

Actually, that’s a lie, you know.

What I truly write down here
is nothing but small, small things—

Beneath En’s anthill,

the sound of ants weeping in sorrow
The second narcissus sprouted its bud
which morning in February it was,
the days when my spinal caries hurt the most,
All such things—nothing but trivial matters to others—
messily jotting down
I only intend to show them to Mr. Shō.

1

This was

the outskirts of a small town

a story in the shade of a bamboo grove.

The bamboo grove swayed brightly,

When the wind blew, it rustled softly, whispering through.

When children threw pebbles from the opposite side,

Clatter-clack-clack-click—

They struck the blue trunks and resounded.

On this side of the bamboo grove there was a small temple.

There was a small temple.

At the temple, next to the main hall, there was a priest’s quarters.

Behind the priest’s quarters stood a detached building.
On its veranda was a reclining chair.

the temple child who has been lying perfectly still for three whole years now.
That was me.
My mother passed away when I was young,

Father and I alone,

There was also one hard-of-hearing old woman.

Because Father was the master of the temple, he was, of course, a priest.

Look—even now—early in the morning,
He’s reciting sutras and performing his morning devotions!
Look! Pok-pok-pok, pok-pok-pok!

Nice sound, don’t you think? That wooden fish dates back to the Tokugawa period—it’s said to be the one passed down through this temple.

Lately my lower back rarely hurts, but even on mornings when it throbbed, listening to that wooden fish's rhythm and Father's sutras would gradually ease the pain.

The pain gradually fades away.

Pok-pok, pok-pok!

2

Anyway, since it was almost eight o'clock already.

Through the narrow path in the bamboo grove,
It was about time Mr. Shō came here.

Mr. Shō is our neighbor’s
only son from the flower farm next door.
Being two years older than me, he’s nineteen now,
and we’ve been close friends since childhood.

During the day, he helped his father
while working on greenhouse maintenance and preparing shipments of cut flowers for the market,
he attended night school.
Mr. Shō, almost every morning, hid from Father
going around the back of the greenhouse
he stealthily slipped through a hole in the fence

He hurried along the path through the bamboo grove.

He came to my place.

“Mitsuko! Good morning!”

“Good morning, Mr. Shō!”

“You doing okay?”
“How was your fever yesterday afternoon?”
“Do you have one this morning?”
“Does it hurt?”

“This morning my temperature is normal, and it doesn’t hurt much.”
“Yesterday afternoon it was 37.1 degrees—nothing serious.”

“There, that’s good.”
“Here, flowers.”

“Oh, how beautiful they are!”
“Thank you, Mr. Shō.”

“Spring flowers are already blooming.”

“Right now, my old man’s loading up the bicycle with what he’s taking to the market, so I quietly brought one over. Look—the French Language Elementary Course textbook. I finally found it!”

“Oh my, oh my! You found it!”

"Actually, I had given up."

Two months had already passed since the course began.

No matter how much I asked Father to search for it,

"None of the bookstores in town had it."

"I looked all over the place and...

at a small bookstore behind the market, there was just one copy

"I found one that was still there."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Shō."

"I'll pay you back later, so..."

"Don't worry about the money."

I get paid for arranging the cut flowers, so...

"That's because I bought it for you, Mitsuko."

“Thank you, Mr. Shō.”

“Thank you, Mr. Shō.”

“There, there—I can’t stand it when you cry again.”

“I can’t stand that.”

“No, I’m not crying.”
“But I’m just happy.”
“I’m laughing, aren’t I?”

“Hahaha, that’s right—it’s better for people to laugh.”

But even so, I find it strange.

That Mitsuko, bedridden as she was,

Moreover, Mitsuko, the temple’s only child,

"Why am I even learning French?"

“But isn’t it a human’s right to study whatever they choose?”

“That may be your right, but I don’t understand your reasons, Mitsuko.”

“Not understanding reasons applies to you too, Mr. Shō.”

“But that’s just it, right? You’re supposed to inherit the farm and become a flower grower, aren’t you?”

“Then why would you go to an industrial school?”

“Humans are dreaming animals.”

“Therefore, humans are animals that dream.”
“Even I—through this—am part of humanity.”
“Ah-haha!”

“Hohoho!”

3

When Mr. Shō laughed, he narrowed his eyes into thin lines.

nostrils turned upward, showing the back of his throat

"Wah-ha, ha!" he let out a hearty laugh.

As the two of them were laughing,

The sound of the wooden fish from the main hall that had been continuously audible
Just as they thought it had suddenly grown louder,

The bell began to clang—clang! clang!

“Oh no, your father’s getting angry!”

Mr. Shō and I exchanged glances and strained our ears together.
Nostrils flaring,

they were catching whiffs of the odor.

“See? Just as I thought.”

Carried on the morning breeze,

Putrid, acrid, clinging—
A truly foul odor wafted over.
Mr. Shō wore a haggard expression.
“I wish my old man would quit it too.”
“But why—why does Uncle hate the wooden fish’s sound so much?”

“But why does Uncle hate the wooden fish’s sound so much?”

“He says it has nothing to do with the sound of the wooden fish.”
“As for flower growers checking fertilizer mixture once a day,”

"He says it’s part of daily life, but..."

"That’s just an excuse."

"He stirs up the manure pit so vigorously first thing in the morning."

“Even without making such a terrible smell,
the fertilizer balance can be checked.
That’s not it—my old man…”

“When Uncle’s wooden fish sounds start up,”
“it makes him boil till he can’t hold back.”
“Someone who’s usually so calm about everything else—”
“Why does he turn into such a madman like that?”

“That’s really true.”
“Even my father isn’t such an unreasonable person when it comes to other matters.”

"But when it comes to your household,
why does he fly into a rage so quickly?
‘Are all adults out of their minds?’
‘Yeah. Anyway, they’re all idiots.’"

When Mr. Shō said that, the sound of his footsteps came from the corridor.

“What’s this about ‘idiots’?” he said as he

My father slid open the fusuma and entered.

His tone was put on to sound cheerful, but

That he was angry

it was clear from the veins standing out on his forehead.

“Good day.”

“Good morning, Uncle.”

“Good morning.”
“I’m sorry you always come to visit Mitsuko like this.”

“Father, I received these flowers.”

“I see. Well, thank you—”

Having said just that, Father glared daggers at the dahlias on my lap.

“Well, I’ll head to the market now, so—”

“Father, and also—Mr. Shō went out of his way to bring this book for me.”

Mr. Shō, looking awkward, gave a quick bow and walked away toward the bamboo grove.

“What’s wrong, Father?”

“Hmm, Shō is a kind and good young man.”

Father said this and glared at the narcissus flowers.

4

Mr. Shō left my side.
He turned around the back of the main hall toward the cemetery.

Then suddenly, Flower Granny’s muttering became audible.

“That’s how it is—

Everyone, everyone will come to an end, you know.

Namu Amida Butsu, Namu Amida Butsu

“Everyone, everyone—from the great daimyo
to Haji the beggar—
Absolutely certain—no mistake!
Even if there are exceptions in the earth struck by hoes,
This one thing—there’s no escaping it!
A hundred become a thousand—not a soul escapes.”

"In the end, it invariably comes to this!
While alive, they may call themselves some so-and-so,
They may have names, money, greed—but
Behold!"

When it comes to this, they’re just moss-covered stones and—
they’re just about like half-rotted sticks.

“Namu Amida Butsu, Namu Amida Butsu. Thinking they’ve lived just a little longer—indulging their greed, working up a sweat—even if they go around reeking to high heaven, wouldn’t it all be completely futile?”

Flower Granny was stone-deaf yet frightfully talkative—moreover she was a master of monologues.

Flower Granny was chattering in a loud voice that carried clear through the entire area while

Sandwiched between the cemetery and the fence,

In the long narrow unclaimed cemetery stood aligned
Amidst graves housing unattended spirits,

As part of her daily morning routine while sweeping with a broom,
she didn’t even notice Mr. Shō passing nearby,
but at the flower field beyond the fence,
even if she couldn’t hear the sound of stirred manure at all,
because her nose wasn’t deaf,
she could smell it so nauseatingly well.
Flower Granny was—truly, truly—a good-natured,
Buddhist-chant-obsessed old woman,
but my father’s feelings had infected her,

She hated the smell of manure.

No—as is typical of honest, single-minded, good-natured people,

the old woman who’d caught the infection—more than her father himself—
her hatred was even more single-minded.

Ha ha ha, Granny’s at it again today, huh—
With a bitter laugh, he slipped through a gap in the fence—

Quietly slipping out toward his own farm,

Father was, as expected, at the manure pit on the other side.
He was stirring it with an angry face.

All along this side of the fence,
Mr. Shō’s mother, the woman,
with a pale, careworn face

“Shō, hurry up

Father had already finished loading the flowers onto the bicycle.

"If you keep dawdling, you’ll get scolded."

"Ahh... Really... Every morning around this time I get so anxious my head starts to ache."

“But Mother, there’s still nearly ten minutes before we need to leave for the market.”

“No, it’s not about you. Look at that—Father’s in that state, and then the sound of the neighbor’s wooden fish... Just when it had finally faded, Flower Granny must be carrying on in that voice. In that case, even Father can see right through it. I just wish she’d show a bit more restraint...”

“But there’s no helping it—no matter what Granny says... She isn’t one for idle chatter; moreover...the smell... It’s just as Granny says.”

“Now, now—even you’re saying such things! Listen here—no matter how foul it smells—”

“Flower-growing and manure-tending are our family’s trade.”

“However, stirring the manure pit is something that can be done even after noon.”

“There’s no need to do it first thing in the morning.”

“Father’s would begin immediately when the neighbor’s wooden fish started sounding.”

“It’s just tit for tat, you know.”

“Hey there, Shō! What are you dawdling there for?!”

The neighbor shouted from the manure pit.

“Come on, Shō, hurry up!”

“I’ve loaded the flowers onto the bicycle!”

“If you don’t hurry, the flowers will wilt!”

“Yes!” Mr. Shō replied and started running.

5

In this way were Mitsuko’s father and the neighbor’s old man.
Their glaring contest,
growing worse little by little,
was repeated every morning.

And the treetops of the bamboo grove
deepened into a green tinged with yellow—different from sprouting season—
etched into the lapis lazuli sky.

Swaying imperceptibly as they did,

In the small town, soundlessly,

Winter passed day by day.

The next morning, even when that time arrived,

No matter how long I waited, Mr. Shō didn't come.
Perhaps instead of the old man,
he might have gone to Tokyo on farm business.
However, if that were the case,

"He usually tells me beforehand, but..."

On this day, he didn’t say anything at all.

Even so, it was a serene and quiet morning.
Father’s morning service had not yet begun.
—That’s what I had been thinking.

How sad it is!
As for human beings—
They think they know everything and believe they can consider anything.
That arrogance is precisely what defines them.
In truth, they possess nothing more than two eyes and ears,
merely heads no larger than footballs—
seeing, hearing, thinking—
no different from monkeys at all.
No—to speak of "human beings" is a mistake.

It is I!

It is I who lie on the chair, in the small town soundlessly,
the gentle light of a winter morning overflowing—

while gazing at the bamboo treetops set into the blue sky

Across the fence with the neighbor,

between Mitsuko’s father and the neighbor’s old man,

A huge fight had broken out!

That's right—a huge fight!
It seemed as if a duel was about to break out—

Mr. Shō said that to me.

“Oh, I only found out when my mother told me last night.”

According to my mother, yesterday morning the weather was fine.

Because the sound of the wooden fish still couldn’t be heard,

In a leisurely mood,

My father and mother were

They were apparently tending to the seedlings near the fence.

On this side of the fence, Flower Granny

Flower Granny had apparently begun a thorough cleaning of the unclaimed graves.
She swept fallen leaves with a broom,
dug out weed roots with a sickle,
all while delivering her customary booming monologue.
She alternated between Buddhist chants and sutra recitations directed at gravestones.
Things remained tolerable while she prattled on about the historical origins of the unclaimed Buddhas—

“Eventually that stinking smell will come,”
“Even if it’s unbearable, you’ll just have to bear it!”
“To make money,”
“they have to stink up the place and pile up their sins—”
Her voice carried no restraint or courtesy,
piercing through the fence to reach both Father and Mother’s ears.
Mother watched with bated breath, fearing Father might erupt any moment.

With bated breath, she glanced sideways at Father and

Father was accustomed to Flower Granny’s sharp tongue,
he knew there was no poison in her belly,
but evidently finding this none too amusing,
clicked his tongue and headed toward the manure pit,
starting to stir it, they say.
“There! There! There!
O dear Buddhas!
The stench of their misdeeds has begun!”

“O dear Buddhas! Guard your noses lest they rot off!”

Flower Granny raised her voice.

Thinking it was too much, Mother glanced toward the fence.

Unexpectedly, your father’s forehead turned deathly pale with bulging veins,
[he] stuck his head out abruptly from the fence
[He] was glaring at my father!
Startled and looking closer,

In his trembling right hand, he was gripping a sickle!
“Your father’s expression was terrifying!”

“No, you—the Reverend was...”

Because the weather was so exceptionally fine,

“That morning, before the service, the Reverend himself had said he would help clean the graves. After me, he came out to the graves—”

“He took the sickle from me,”
“and was digging up things like grass roots, you know.”
“Then there you have it—the neighbor started right under our noses—”
“suddenly making that rotten stink!”

“Anyone would get angry, you see.”

“And then the Reverend stood up from behind the fence—”

“He was just looking at their field!”

“Because your father’s expression was so terrifying, my mother thought he was about to break through the fence any moment now and attack Father.”

“My mother is timid and easily frightened, as you know,”

“As for the discord between your father and my father,”

“For a long time, they had been tormented by it—tormented by it—”

“Because they’d reached the point of being haunted even in their dreams,
it’s no wonder they felt that way on both sides.”

Startled, she stood frozen with the hoe still in hand,
when she ran to my father and signaled with her eyes,
this time my father too had changed his complexion and was glaring toward the fence,

he immediately took the hoe from Mother

He stomped toward your father. He stood blocking in front of the fence. With both hands gripping the hoe, he trembled violently.

“Your father’s face was deathly pale,
my father’s face had turned bright red instead,
and there they stood nose to nose without saying a word—
glaring at each other with looks that could curse a man to death!”

They stood glaring at each other!

Just then I came back.

I had no idea what was going on,

But those fierce looks on both sides were so terrifying

That I just stood there watching in shock.

Then even Flower Granny got so startled—

She forgot how to speak and just kept staring.

“Before long, first my father must have gotten embarrassed at seeing me there—he lowered the hoe and turned his face away. Then your father too put away his sickle and left the fence. And so it all came to nothing, like some dog’s quarrel that fizzled out.”

“And that was that—over nothing at all!”

6

That was how Mr. Shō

Mr. Shō talked about it as if joking,

The glaring match between Father and the neighbor
How utterly terrifying it must have been!
You could tell by the look in their eyes.
Just listening to it made my insides tremble.

“Adults are such idiots! It’s just the sound of the wooden fish and the stench of the manure pits, isn’t it? If only they’d just decide to forgive each other—it’s truly nothing at all.”

“And yet your father is among the most distinguished priests at the temples in this town—a revered priest and a well-known figure—”

“Even my father composes haiku and such,
he’s such a good person you can’t find fault with—
They hate each other for no reason at all!
When I said to my mother, ‘How should I put this?’
Mother says there’s a reason.
Even so, my mother didn’t know the details.”

“It was something that happened long, long before my mother came to my father’s household as a bride. So even your deceased mother hadn’t yet come to the temple at that time. Perhaps your father hadn’t even come to this temple as an adopted son yet. So of course, this happened long before I or you were born. The temple's previous-previous generation head priest and my father’s father—that is, an old man who would be my grandfather (though I never knew him)—”

At that time, land consolidation was being carried out like a trend in this town. Triggered by this land consolidation, they had a terrible dispute over the boundary line on this side of the bamboo grove—over a mere length of about eighteen meters and a width of two or three *shaku* (approximately 0.6–0.9 meters). It amounted to just ten *tsubo* (approximately 33 square meters).

“It’s my field!” “It’s my land!” they insisted—

No matter what, they just couldn’t settle it,
so they even ended up taking it to court,
but originally, it was about land that both sides had inherited from their ancestors.
There was no evidence to prove whose land it was.

Even in court, it ended up being muddled.

“Ever since then, your temple’s previous-previous generation and my grandfather became like cats and dogs, and”

“In my family, they passed that resentment down to my father,

"In your family, they passed it on to the previous head priest, and he in turn drilled it into your father. It’s apparently been going on ever since. According to my mother—"

“Year after year，in spring and summer it’s not so bad—but when autumn approaches，oddly enough—the dispute between Father and the neighboring temple’s head priest intensifies.”

“And when winter came and it grew cold, they didn’t quarrel openly, but—” both sides sulking away in their own homes, “they absolutely loathe the other side,” she said. Since it’s a usual occurrence, she’d grown somewhat accustomed to it, but— “How should I put it? Ever since the war ended—” “It’s been getting worse year by year, I tell you.” “If things keep going like this—as you’ve seen—”

“I’m so worried about what might start happening that I can’t stand it.”

“With the war over and this thing called democracy setting in,”
“each person’s selfish desires have grown stronger,”
“have all people become quicker to quarrel, I wonder?”
“Mother says that—what a stupid story!”

So then, Mother and I would subtly—

When we said, "Please stop these disputes already," Father would reply, "Even if I wanted to stop, the other side won’t—there’s nothing to be done."

"Why must you bang that pointless wooden fish every single morning—" he’d claim they were striking it just to mock him.

As for your father, he must be saying the same sort of things.

"Even if I were willing to quit, the other wouldn’t."

Every single morning—knowing full well we detest it—why do they let that manure stench drift over?

"They’re itching for a fight—that’s what they’d say, naturally!"

Was it the sound of the wooden fish that came first, or the stench of manure?

They were both at fault, blaming each other endlessly—there was no resolution in sight.

They say a fool can’t be cured unless they die,

but in other matters, my wise father and this neighbor...

When the two faced each other, they became the biggest fools among fools.

That’s right—if they can’t be cured unless they die,

they might as well just cut each other down or whatever.

They should just kill each other and be done with it.

“But you see, Mitsuko,”
“You and I may be those fools’ children, but…”
I absolutely refuse to inherit our fathers’ feud.
No matter what happens,
even if anything were to happen,

“Let’s you and me stay friends!”

“Alright, Mitsuko, let’s keep at it!”

Having said that, Mr. Shō said with a smile, but...

Even from his teary-eyed look, I could tell he meant every word.

I was left alone, and my chest began to ache.

Tears streamed down uncontrollably.

What on earth am I supposed to do?

7

“What on earth am I supposed to do?”

I said to Father.

That evening, after Father had finished both dinner and the evening service,
As had become the nightly routine,
the moment before sleep

It was after he came and sat by my pillow.

“Huh? What’s this about, huh?”

“No, Mr. Shō also says—in other matters, they’re such wise, good people, yet... ‘When both sides come together, why do they end up fighting over such foolish things?’”

“Shō-kun? What’s this about?”

“It’s about you and the neighbor.”

“Is it about today?”

“No, it’s not necessarily about today, Father—”

Really, really, Father—

I want you to stop this fighting already.

“I’m sorry for saying something so impertinent, but…”
“Why on earth are our family and the neighbors on such bad terms?”
Even as I spoke, tears streamed down uncontrollably.

Father started to say something harsh, but
when he glanced at my face,
he cut off his words and suddenly fell silent.

He sat in silence for a long time.

After that, he abruptly stood up and headed toward the main hall.

Eventually, something like a horizontally bound ledger—
he brought a very old ledger.

He thumped down the ledger by my pillow.

He opened it to the middle section.

“If you insist on saying such things,

I’ll spell it out clearly for you.

You’ll eventually have to properly understand this matter,

“You are someone who must protect this temple to the very end.”

“Listen carefully—why we had a falling out with the neighbor’s household.”

“No—or rather, how utterly in the wrong the neighbor’s household is,”

“This, it’s written right here!”

This was the death register left by the head priest from two generations prior—a distinguished monk renowned at this temple. That very monk had compiled this record. “Here, read this part.” “First item: regarding this temple’s grounds.”

The brushstrokes were all wavy, twisting kanji characters.

I couldn’t read a single line.
Father explained this to me in an agitated tone, but
it was all so long-winded, and none of it was clear.

Apparently, during that head priest’s youth,
the boundary with the neighboring property hadn’t been clearly defined either,
particularly the area beyond the bamboo grove,
which was contiguous with the land of a wealthy landowner from this remote village
and had been an overgrown forest.
That wealthy patron is said to have donated it to this temple.
They should have properly surveyed it then, but—
being an old matter, it was only recorded as some twenty tsubo of mountain forest—
whether they had even properly registered it.
In any case, since then, the land had been left unused as temple property—

Soon, at the neighbor’s house—who were farmers at that time—

Because they needed to dig storage pits for seed potatoes and seedlings.

Because they asked to borrow a portion of that mountain forest,

it is said that they readily and gladly lent it to them

Since then, they did not charge any rent, but

It seems the neighbor’s household delivered seasonal vegetables each season.

For fifteen or sixteen years after that, things continued as they were, but

During the surveying for land consolidation, when it came time to clarify the boundary,

The neighbor’s household claimed that land as their own.

So when we stated that it was land previously donated by that wealthy patron, Mr. Nomura,

No—after that, from Mr. Nomura,
the neighbor’s household claimed they had received it as collateral for money or loans.

The previous head of the neighbor’s household was a man fond of cockfighting and gambling—he apparently engaged in real gambling too. Thereupon, because a large landowner named Nomura was also fixated on cockfighting, perhaps he staked that grove in a gambling match—it might have been taken by the neighbor’s previous head. But it was a story with no evidence whatsoever, and Mr. Nomura had also passed away long ago—there was no one left to ask, no matter whom you tried. In any case, it had long been this temple’s property.

When he refused to hand it over to the neighbor based on such vague circumstances,

the neighbor’s previous head went on and on making an uproar—raising hell at every turn.

Harassment, intimidation, and finally even forcing his way into the cemetery to commit acts of violence.

a troublemaker who’d challenge anyone to a gamble,

his actions were utterly lawless.

The head priest of this temple had initially thought it was merely about a little over ten tsubo of wasteland.

It seems he had considered that depending on circumstances, he might have quietly relinquished it to the neighbor, but—

However, because the neighbor’s methods were far too underhanded,

In that case, they couldn't just quietly back down either—
At one point, even the temple parishioners began making a commotion,
and it apparently turned into a huge dispute.
After that, it even escalated to a court case—
but in the end, everything was swept under the rug,

Since then, from the neighbor’s household and this temple’s previous generation up to the present—
This problem has been carried over all along.

(……If that's how it is… but Father—)

Please, just do as the neighbor’s household says and let them have their way.

After all, Father, haven’t you yourself said you don’t mind parting with a mere ten tsubo of land?

(Please—just cleanly hand over the land and make peace with the neighbor……)

I wanted to say that, but—

Looking at Father’s face as he talked on earnestly,

I couldn’t possibly say that.

As a father, this temple's land with its ancient lineage—
Even one tsubo—no, even half a tsubo—
he didn't want to reduce it during his tenure.
Now there was a glint in his eyes that said he'd sooner die than yield an inch.
That Father was gradually beginning to seem pitiable to me.
Though he might have seemed stubborn, he remained quite likable in other matters.
Since Mother passed away, he hadn't taken another wife for my sake.
Even though he was only fifty-six, his teeth had fallen out, making him look like a terrible old man.

Just him and me—his sick daughter—alone together.

Poor, poor Father!

I can’t say anything.

So I stayed silent and let my tears flow.

Upon seeing that, Father abruptly stopped talking.

……The winter night wind passed through the bamboo grove with a rustling sound,

Faintly, ever so faintly, it grew.

Tears also seemed to be welling up in Father’s eyes.

Eventually, in a hoarse, low voice,

“It seems the wind has come up.”

“Mitsuko, aren’t your feet cold?”
he said quietly.
If I answered, I feared my voice would break into a sob,
I silently shook my head.
Father also silently covered me with a blanket.

The following day at dawn.
I awoke once around three o'clock,

Since it was still early, I drifted back into a doze.

I must have fallen soundly asleep again,

Even though that sound reached my ears,

At first, I wasn’t startled or anything.

In the distance came a series of crackling snaps—

After someone shrieked—

A man’s voice shouting, "Do something!"

And then from the direction of the main street—

There was a sense of many people running toward the area.
I wondered what was happening and looked around—
The figure of Flower Granny, who usually slept nearby, was nowhere to be seen.

Thinking it strange,

When I looked toward Father’s bed in the next room where the fusuma was always left open,
it too appeared to have been hastily vacated,
the futon kicked aside, and Father gone.

What was happening?

What had begun?

In my head—perhaps because of what had happened last night—

Suddenly, Father and the neighbor were fighting.

That scene flashed like electricity and—

At the fence, Father raised a sickle while the neighbor swung up a hoe.

Both of them were injured and covered in blood from their faces down to their necks,

They're fighting like beasts!

No!
No! No!
This can't be happening—

Even if I tried to rise, my body in a cast—
No matter how hard I struggled, I couldn’t get up.
Father!
Flower Granny!
Father!
Someone come!
Even as I writhed in agony,

The commotion outside showed no sign of abating.

Somewhere, there was also the incessant sound of well water being drawn up!

“Look! That way!”
“Look out!”

Aaaah!
And the voices of men!

Crrrack-crrrack-crrrack! The sound of something shattering!

Oh, what should I do?

Father was going to be killed!

Come quickly!
Someone—anyone—come quickly!

She writhed while digging her nails into the tatami!

Suddenly, with a clatter-thud-rattle, the window shutters were pushed open.

While swiftly sliding open the shoji,

“Mitsuko, Mitsuko, what’s wrong?”
“It’s me! Shō! You’re safe!”

Mr. Shō had eyes gleaming intensely, his face flushed with excitement.

From head to shoulders, he was drenched with water!

But he immediately let out a "Ha ha!" laugh and—
“Mitsuko, you don’t have to worry!”

“At one point I thought things were dire—”
“It’s okay now! Ha ha!”
“I remembered about you—”

"I was worried about how you were doing, so I came running. After all—your father and Flower Granny both left you behind—ha ha! They left you behind and went off, ha ha! But it’s okay now."

“You can rest easy now, Mitsuko!”

“Oh, Mr. Shō, what on earth happened? Did my father and your father get into another fight again?”

“Huh? A fight? Ha ha ha! Ridiculous! It’s not a fight or anything!”

“So it’s not that I don’t have any idea what’s going on at all, you know? The commotion since earlier—I heard it near Mr. Okoshiya’s corner, but—what on earth happened?”

“Ah, right—of course. It’s only natural you wouldn’t understand, Mitsuko.”

“That’s right—there was a fire at Okoshiya’s.”

“At the factory behind Okoshiya’s place—they make rice crackers there—”

“Looks like they’d been burning way too much fire—”

“The retaining board behind the furnace area ended up overheating,”

“Isn’t it strange? That side didn’t catch fire—See, our storage shed’s standing right there behind it, right? It burst into flames from under that storage shed’s thatch roof.”

“Who do you think was the first to discover the fire? It was our Flower Granny. Ha ha! Her ears may be bad, but her eyes are sharp!”

Perhaps she had risen early in the predawn hours out of a sense of duty—

When she looked out from beside your temple’s main hall and saw my house blazing up with fire—
“Fire!” she shouted.
She suddenly leaped down barefoot, came to my house’s back door, and kept shouting “Fire! Fire!”
She banged on the door to wake them up.

Father and Mother were startled, rushed out to look, and—
The storage shed’s thatch roof was crackling and snapping as it burned.

Frantic, they carried water from the back well and—

“Come on, pour it on! Pour it on!”

Everyone from Okoshiya’s place came out too, and it was a bucket relay from the well.

Flower Granny too drew water while barking orders at everyone.

How perfectly it had worked!

The fire was extinguished in no time.

By that time, it seemed someone had finally called—

The town’s fire truck had rushed to the scene, but

There was no longer any need for it—what a relief!

“But listen, Mitsuko—don’t be shocked.”

After putting out the fire like that,

At the back door where it still hissed and smoldered,
everyone finally let out a sigh of relief as they caught their breath,

When they looked at each other,

The one who was at the head of the bucket relay was your father.

“Mitsuko, it was your father! Flower Granny was in the relay too—both still in their nightclothes, drenched with water and sweat! Sopping wet and looking ridiculous! At my house’s fire… your father was there like that—”

“He was desperately putting out the fire!”

When my father and mother saw that,

Suddenly, they couldn’t get any words of thanks out.

“They rolled their eyes and mumbled incoherently, over and over. So then your father must’ve felt awkward too—fidgeting with a bright red face, he was just grinding his eyes around! What a ridiculous sight they made! They knew my father and your father didn’t get along.”

Okoshiya’s old man too,

his face pitch-black with soot from the fire’s smoke and looking strange,

was scrutinizing both sides intently.

“Hey Mitsuko, life is radiance!

“This is humanity’s true form.
No matter how much they might seem to quarrel every day,
When it truly comes down to it, they help each other.
Your father really is an admirable priest.
Even my father must have been ashamed of everything up till now.
From now on, he’ll surely come running without hesitation whenever there’s a crisis at your place.
He’ll come rushing over without a second thought.”

“Everyone’s a good person at heart! With this as our chance, your father and mine are bound to become fast friends! They’ll get along perfectly now—I’d bet my life on it! Isn’t it wonderful, Mitsuko!”

“Put out your hand—let’s shake hands! Here’s to glory in life!”

Saying that, Mr. Shō grabs my hand and shakes it.

So happy—so happy that my heart pounded in my chest.
Without being able to say anything at all, I took hold of Mr. Shō’s hand—

It’s soaking wet.

I suddenly could no longer see Mr. Shō’s face.

9

But our human joy—

How fleeting it all is!
Mr. Shō’s proclaimed glory in life—
It was but a fleeting illusion!
Humans aren’t saved so easily!

A morning two or three days after that

Even when the wooden fish of Father’s morning prayers began to sound,
Because there was no stench of manure coming from next door,
I had been feeling relieved when—

Before long, the stench came flowing back.

Then the sound of the wooden fish began to falter.

The stench of manure was so intense it felt as if one's nose would rot off.

Finally, from the direction of the main hall came a clatter,

No sooner had the sound of the wooden fish stopped than

Father stomped outside with heavy footsteps.
Father, seething with anger, went straight—
to the fence and suddenly thrust out his head.
He had apparently glared at the neighbor.

—Later, I heard from Mr. Shō.
Then the neighbor also noticed,
Although he didn’t raise his hoe that day,
Because my father’s glaring look was so hateful,

The neighbor, too, gradually began to glare back with eyes that seemed ready to pounce.

After standing there like that for twenty or thirty minutes—both of them—
Shō’s mother bowed toward us, then pulled the neighbor’s sleeve and led him into the house,
and Father apparently returned to the main hall as well.

Since then, once again, just as before,
they were having glaring matches every three days.
Ah, ah, what is this?

During that fire commotion, they had been so carried away—
Even though they had been able to work together,
To think they’re back to their wooden fish quarrels—how pathetic!
Even Father—
Is this quarreling version really the real Father?
Was the one who rushed to extinguish the neighbor’s fire really the real Father?

“Both are real, Mitsuko.”
No—I want to believe that the one who came to put out the fire was
your father’s true self.

"But you know, when I see your father’s deathly pale face glaring at my father from across the fence,

it’s not a face you can fake as a joke.

I can’t believe that’s a lie either.

In other words, both are real.

The same goes for my father."

“Regarding the fire, my father is grateful to your father.”

“And then he’d said something like ‘He’s a good person after all.’ That’s why he kept glaring at your father like that.”

“Neither one is false.”

Mr. Shō said that.

“But then, I just can’t make sense of it.”

“Right, I don’t really get it either.
But that’s how it is, so there’s nothing we can do.”
“So—are all adults just a little crazy?”
“Yeah, maybe so.
But still… my father and your father aren’t actually crazy either.”
With that, Mr. Shō made a painfully pained expression.
“Maybe America and the Soviet Union...
bickering over every little thing and engaging in a nuclear arms race—
Even though there’s a difference between big things and small things,

“This might be the same kind of thing, I guess,” he said.

“That’s it, that’s it! Actually, since the other day, I’d been thinking about that too! They were both good people all along. And they know perfectly well what’s good and what’s bad—they know perfectly well! Yet they get furious over what the other does and lose their tempers and go at each other!”

“But even so—I still can’t understand why. By talking things out and settling everything properly...”

There was no reason they couldn’t get along,

Without doing that, they were butting heads.

“Adults really are out of their minds!”

And so, Mr. Shō and I remained looking at each other’s faces.

For a long, long time, we remained deep in thought.

10

After that, I kept on thinking.

In the end, my head started to hurt.

Then, three or four days later, when Mr. Shō suddenly appeared, he abruptly—
“Mitsuko, both really are true after all.”
At the same moment he said that, I—

“Mr. Shō, I think this is what we should do,” I said.

Both collided head-on—

The two of them burst into laughter!

“Wait—there’s actually a way to get along without fighting?”

“No, it might not be called a proper way to get along, you know.”

But you know, here’s what I thought.

Either one of the two—

If you think you’re stronger and wiser than the other person—

The one who thinks that way should let the other person win.

If you quarrel with someone weaker or more foolish than yourself,

Even if you won—would that really be anything to boast about?

"So you should let them win."

“So even if they hit you or punch you—is that what you’re saying?”
“Even if they hurl abuse at you and trample all over you—is that what you’re saying?”
“Well, if you do that, fights won’t happen—so there’d be peace—but…”
“But can either of them actually do that?”

“Whether it’s your father or my father,” he said.
Whether it’s the Soviets or America—but never mind that.
Can they actually do it?

If they could do that, there’d be nothing to worry about.

“Because they can’t do that, things have ended up like this.”

“Then, Mr. Shō—what do you think we should do?”

“So both are true—because that’s what humans are.”

"What to do—I don’t know now."

"But Mitsuko, we can pray."

"If ‘pray’ sounds too presumptuous, then let’s say we chant the Buddhist sutras Flower Granny’s always going on about."

"In other words, it’s about keeping hold of hope."

“Humans aren’t ultimately so foolish.”

“In time，they will surely come to realize their own foolishness.”

“Hey, Mitsuko!”

“Let’s keep holding onto hope!”

“And let’s stay friends forever and ever! No matter what happens—even if your father and my father end up clashing swords—you and I will not abandon hope.”

“Let’s stay friends forever and ever!”

“Yes, let’s do that!”

“No matter what begins—we’ll stay friends!”

“Because truly, people who get along well—”

“As long as there are even one or two pairs on Earth—
Mr. Shō’s father and my father also
In the end, they’ll probably make up,
The Soviet and America can become friends too.
That possibility stands to reason.
Friends—you and me, Mr. Shō!
Come on, let’s endure!”

That’s right—laugh and call it childish.

That’s right—both of them like children,
Enduring while smiling through it all,
Their hearts were still and solemn.
Then Mr. Shō smiled mischievously and

“But Mitsuko,
We are the young people of a new era.
We mustn’t fall into the traps that the old people fell into.
Among the older generation, there are those who—starting from such things—
end up growing close as a man and woman,
and begin romantic relationships and such,
but we mustn’t become like that.
Love is love, friendship is friendship.
The reason I’m saying all this is...

One day when my mother was in a good mood, she caught me and said, “When I get you a bride—someone like our neighbor Mitsuko-san—a good-natured girl would be nice.”

"...because she once said that and teased me."

"Mother might genuinely wish for that."

"So this feud between your father and mine—"

"I wonder if it’s making them agonize even more—ha ha ha!"

"Listen, Mitsuko—and another thing—"

"When parents are at odds with each other, ironically—"

“Conversely, there are cases where children fall in love with each other, you know.”

“Have you ever read something called ‘Romeo and Juliet’?”

“That’s it! That’s a trap too! It’s an inside-out trap! Let’s be careful, Mitsuko! I really like you. In the future, when you become healthy—we might come to like each other—I might propose that you become my bride. That time will take care of itself; now is now. These are separate matters; we won’t lump them together!”

“That’s right，Mr.Shō！ You put it well—I was just about to say that myself！ You're absolutely right，Mr.Shō！ We mustn't fall into the trap！”

From then on, every day and every morning,

Mr. Shō came to my place.

My father struck the wooden fish,
Mr. Shō’s father stirred the manure pit,
Flower Granny mutter-grumbled and chattered away in her booming voice.

Mr. Shō’s mother kept worrying about various things while—

Mr. Shō attended school while engaging in flower cultivation.

And the doctor said my spinal caries was improving little by little, bit by bit.

And the French I learned from the radio,
I began translating short passages.

The quarrel between Father and Mr. Shō’s father continued unchanged while—before long—spring approached. There there—because even now the wooden fish’s sound began again—soon the stench of manure would waft over.

I can’t help but laugh, you know.

Bien!
In French, they say 'bien' for that too—that’s how you express it.

“Mr. Shō, this is the end of my long, long poem.”

Epilogue

I pray

Toward the deep winter sky

Please do not take hope away from me.

My clasped hands tremble slightly.

The tips of the bamboo in the grove swayed slightly.
The cedar and chinquapin treetops swayed faintly.
All of them shone quietly in the winter sun while—
I prayed
with my hands pressed together—
swaying toward the sky.