Pathway to Japanese Literature

It was written in letter form, and since the author himself had died after drinking poison, the detective supposed it was likely a suicide note—but given where it had been found, that point remained unclear.

Even if it were a suicide note—had he truly written it intending to send it to that woman, Ms. Reiko Nakagome? Or had he changed his mind upon finishing and simply abandoned it there? Or had he already sent this as a draft? All such points remained entirely unclear.

In any case, it was a splendid notebook with a leather cover and French-style binding.
The notebook was crammed with writing in pen.
Given that its cover had been gnawed through, its corners chewed, and it emerged covered in rat droppings and dust, the detective tilted his head slightly and let out a thoughtful "Hmm."

On the first page, scrawled like a child’s doodle from right to left, horizontally, diagonally—just "Ms. Reiko Nakagome, Ms. Reiko Nakagome"—it must have been written seven or eight times.
A suicide note? Or a diversion to dispel his own tormented feelings?
Although that point remained unclear, one thing was certain—he must have written this while picturing that woman, Reiko Nakagome.

Another possibility emerged vividly: that as he struggled with writer's block and anguish—unconsciously writing "Reiko Nakagome, Reiko Nakagome" during that interval—his emotions had overflowed like a breached dam's floodwaters.
Reiko Nakagome... Reiko Nakagome... As he pondered where he might have heard that name before—oh! That woman!
In the detective's mind rose the beautiful face of that woman—the one he'd seen in newspapers and magazines.
Ah—so that had been Reiko Nakagome?

Rather than a lady, it might have been more appropriate to call her a young lady.
Moreover, Reiko Nakagome herself was not particularly famous.
As the wealthy young lady and Paris-returned rising pianist, her photos had appeared in newspapers and magazines, but it was her father—the tycoon—who was more famous.
The fact that he was a business magnate preeminent in financial circles—renowned throughout Japan as president of Nittai Spinning, president of Toyo Cotton Industry, and president of Nakagome Precision Machinery—had permeated even the mind of a detective in these mountains.

So, while picturing Reiko Nakagome’s beautiful countenance and brushing off thick dust, the detective began reading this notebook—but had those four characters of “Reiko Nakagome” not sparked the country detective’s curiosity, the opportunity for this full text to emerge would likely have been lost forever.

I

Ms. Reiko Nakagome.

It is believed that bacteria have adhered all over my body as well.
Before reading this letter, I implore you to thoroughly disinfect it.

I cannot write a long preface.
I have no leisure to embellish with unnecessary words, so this writing has become hurried and cramped—difficult to read, I imagine—but I beg your forgiveness.

To think that you so graciously granted my plea—that you wait until my term in France ended and I returned to Japan—and that despite your sisters each maintaining their own happy households, you steadfastly awaited my return… I find myself utterly at a loss for how to express my gratitude.
And now, on this day of my return—which you awaited and I had been waiting so long for—I find myself at a loss for how to explain why I must write such a letter.

To your father and mother—I have absolutely no words to write from myself—so please show them this letter and convey my deepest apologies from your side.

On December 4th, I received an internal order from the Ministry to return to Japan.
It was a telegram from the Ministry's European and American Affairs Bureau stating that I was to become First Division Chief.
So on December 9th, I departed from Paris Orly Airport aboard an Air France flight and began my journey home.

As I was seen off by a great crowd of people and showered with congratulatory words from all sides, I was truly happy.
I was happy to return to Japan after so long, but what made my heart leap even more was knowing you waited for me there—and that I could finally marry you.

For my wedding, first and foremost, I had long dreamed of having Mother attend and share in the joy, but that dream of mine had already crumbled beyond recovery a full year prior. Last October, I had received word from my elder brother that Mother had died of kidney disease.

Mother spent her entire life in a remote mountain hometown; she has never once been to Tokyo. If I were to marry you and have a house even in Tokyo’s outskirts—if I could call Mother to live together—how delighted she would have been; this had always been my long-cherished dream.

Therefore, when I received the news that Mother had died, I felt as though a great hollow had formed in my chest and became dazedly vacant.
Rejecting Mother’s oft-repeated pleas for me to marry quickly—simply because I stubbornly insisted on remaining single a while longer to study until I could secure a domestic post—when I consider that I let her die without giving her any joy during her lifetime, I was overwhelmed with regret.

Before coming to France—after three years in London and one in Geneva during my long overseas life—when I consider how I had scarcely tasted even a moment of family warmth with Mother, it became an indelible sorrow. Yet even so, by thinking of you, I could still ease my grief.

On the airplane, I was together with former Ambassador to London Shirota, who was returning to Japan to assume the position of Director-General of the Ministry’s Information and Cultural Affairs Bureau.

"Hey, Future Ambassador!"

While laughing, the Ambassador was tapped on the shoulder from behind.

“Not even thirty yet—promoted to First Division Chief of European and American Affairs, winning over Ms. Nakagome’s daughter—position, beauty, wealth… you lucky man! Once we land in Japan, what exactly are you going to treat me to?”

Even without being teased by the Ambassador, I too felt that way. Though my mother’s death filled me with profound loneliness, as one born a farmer’s second son, I considered this happiness entirely beyond my station.

Marrying you would not grant me financial power or anything of the sort, but at that moment, even the Ambassador’s words served only to heighten my happiness.
Since I was born a man, I too once thought I wanted to become at least a minister as a politician.

To become a politician and control a political party would require funds amounting to tens of millions or even billions.
Even if I were to work as a Ministry of Foreign Affairs official for decades, there’s no way such an enormous sum of money could possibly be amassed.
That is why at that time, I had thought of asking your elder brother or even your father to provide the funds…

But I had not been seriously considering becoming a politician in particular.
I was merely indulging in aimless, dream-like fantasies.
On this long-awaited journey back to my homeland... In that homeland, your dear face appeared... my elder brother's face, my sister-in-law's face floated into view... friends' faces... Throughout that nostalgic journey homeward, while overlooking deserts near Egypt and Arabia, the white waves of the Persian Gulf and Indian Ocean beneath distant cloud seas, how delightful a dream it must have been—this indulgence in such aimless fantasies.

II

I must have caught a cold.
After departing Rangoon, as the plane was passing through Thai and Cambodian airspace, I began feeling unwell—my body shuddering with chills—when noticing me reading alone, the Ambassador inquired, "Where will you stay in Tokyo?"
he asked.
When I explained I'd been staying at a relative's annex but they'd left Tokyo, and that I planned to find a hotel, he suggested, "Rather than lodging with strangers, why not go straight home?"
he said.

“Anyway, this plane’ll be dropping off the British officers at Iwakuni too—your place must be right nearby!”

he urged.

“Since your recall order’s not pressing yet, take four or five days to rest up proper. I’ll make sure to tell both your Director-General and Vice-Minister—we’ll be seeing them anyway.”

Having been persuaded, I too decided to return home for the time being. And so, despite having even sent a telegram from Rome stating that upon arriving in Tokyo I would complete my official greetings and immediately call upon you, I altered my plans and abruptly decided to direct my steps toward home instead.

As scheduled, the plane arrived at Iwakuni Airport at 10:40 a.m. There, I bade farewell to the Ambassador and disembarked from the plane. And then, I went to Iizasa, transferred to a private railway line, and arrived at Shimokochi Station at three o'clock in the afternoon the following day. My home lies north of this station, directed toward the foothills of a mountain called Rengeji-dake. From the station’s entrance, one must cross a mountain pass via a rattling commuter bus for approximately seven ri further. Winding along the mountain’s skirt and crossing several passes—it is a place of utmost remoteness.

Though I had sent a letter in advance about my return to Japan, I had not informed anyone of when I would visit—yet as I descended from the bus clutching my suitcase, Tomoharu—my elder brother’s eldest son, who had been playing nearby—was the first to spot me with keen eyes and came running over.

“Uncle has come back!”
“It’s Uncle Shinjirou!”

With a cry of wild joy, a farmhand who happened to be passing by with a hoe on his shoulder snatched the suitcase from me; toddling unsteadily with it in one hand, he then passed it on again, while other farmhands and tenant farmers’ children—snot-nosed and wide-eyed—surrounded my nephew! As I entered the wide gate, my sister-in-law came rushing out, wiping her hands in apparent surprise; maids and farmhands—no, neighbors—gathered in haste; my elder brother came rushing from wherever he had been upon hearing the news; and the once-quiet rural house was suddenly surrounded by a throng of people, erupting into a deafening commotion.

Being a remote countryside area, both the house and its surroundings were truly vast and sprawling.
Backed by mountain forests behind it, the ancestral house remained unchanged from days of old.
The towering cedar windbreak that densely covered the roof ridges; the ancient crape myrtle before the entrance with its gnarled roots spread wide; three or four crumbling storehouses continuing from the village headman era; stone lanterns and garden ponds in the inner courtyard—down to every last tree and blade of grass—nothing had changed from days of old.

But perhaps it was my imagination—the house where Mother had died exuded a hollow desolation. When I was in middle school, my elder brother had succeeded our deceased father, and from that time onward, Mother had effectively become a dependent retiree under his care. Yet even so, being inside this house without her felt like standing in a structure missing its central pillar—it evoked an indescribable desolation.

My body before the fever felt restless with a vague languor.

“Come now, your precious health! Get some rest, rest!”
“Okano!”
“Hurry up and get Shinjirou’s bed ready, gotta!”

Elder Brother fretted anxiously, and Sister-in-Law directed a maid to lay out bedding in the twelve-tatami room at the back.
Leaving the interactions with old friends and villagers rushing in to my elder brother and his wife, I burrowed into my bedding, but these country folk—once word spreads—keep arriving nonstop, one after another.

My elder brother and sister-in-law took care not to show it in my presence, but when speaking with villagers, their unrestrained voices thick with dialect carried to me as clearly as if they stood right beside me.

No hotel bed, however luxurious, could compare to the profound sense of ease I felt while relaxing leisurely in my homeland after several years away—a feeling I couldn’t help but savor deeply.

And lying there like that, filled with the same nostalgic warmth I’d felt returning to Mother during school vacations long ago, I drifted between thoughts of her absence’s loneliness and the coming joy of being with you, gradually slipping into drowsiness.

III

After about three days, my cold had completely healed.
In the tearoom, alone with my elder brother for the first time in ages without others present, I heard detailed accounts of Mother’s final moments and the settling of family affairs.
Mother’s chronic kidney disease had worsened around April three years prior, they said, and she ultimately passed away last October due to atrophic kidney.
She had spoken of me like a mantra until her death—how overjoyed she would have been had I returned like this now.

Under normal circumstances, the grave should have been placed in the ancestral burial grounds at Jion-ji Temple in our village, but due to a chance connection formed one or two years prior, the priest of Sogen-ji Temple in Kitano Village—the next village over from our neighboring village—had grown close with Mother during her illness. Having often listened to his Buddhist sermons on her sickbed before passing, she earnestly wished to be buried at Sogen-ji, and thus that is where we buried her.

He explained that under normal circumstances he would have wanted me to visit the grave on this occasion, but since I must be busy, I should first return to Tokyo and come back for a proper grave visit when time allows.

I too thought I wanted to visit Mother’s grave. What I hazily recall is that during my boyhood years, I too had gone to play at that very Sogen-ji Temple where Mother is buried—thus I know of this temple. Though it’s called a village just two over from here, the distance must be a good five ri. What’s more, crossing as many as three or four mountain passes through that desolate stretch of mountain paths where scarcely a house or person could be seen—I remember how even as a child when I went there to play, I felt as if some specter had assailed me and fled back home in terror. Being a rural temple, I cannot recall whether its roof was thatch or reed—nor even if it was large or small—but I do remember this: after climbing moss-covered stone steps so high they seemed to pierce the sky, there stood a gate with pillars thick as ancient trees, and on either side loomed great Nioh statues, their once-vibrant reds and blues peeled away to bare wood, eyes glaring fiercely as if frozen mid-roar.

The main hall had burned down long ago, and I had heard that only this mountain gate had remained for two or three hundred years—but given that distance, one likely couldn’t visit the grave without devoting an entire day.
Well then—I decided I would first complete my official greetings upon assuming my post, check the ministry’s schedule, and then set out again at a leisurely pace. At that time, I asked my elder brother to take me along.

“Ryosaburou’s been lamentin’ too—it’s just one parent we got, but since he came all this way with his wife， couldn’t even be there when Ma passed． But I told him no need t’fret extra—I’m here tendin’ t’things．”

Ryosaburou was my younger brother who served as an assistant professor at Kyushu University’s Faculty of Medicine．
For tuberculosis drug research， he had been dispatched to Harvard University．
Free from child-rearing responsibilities， my younger brother’s wife was also engaged in handicraft research， and so the couple had gone together t’America．

“So you too—if you’re comin’ out for grave visitin’, no need to fuss over formalities like death anniversaries. Get married to that young lady first—that’d be best, wouldn’t it? Just think how overjoyed Mother’d be…”
“First off, get hitched to that young lady—then’s the time for it, wouldn’t you say?”
“I can’t even imagine how overjoyed Mother’d be for that young lady… Go on, go ahead with it.”

And so my elder brother said.
And I too resolved to do so.
Never have I encountered anyone as gentle and filially devoted as Elder Brother.
Even absent both myself and my younger brother, with Elder Brother present alone, Mother must surely have departed this world without lingering regrets.
Thus did I resolve to abide by Elder Brother's directions.

Elder Brother was neither a man of learning nor someone who had completed his schooling satisfactorily.
In the year he graduated from middle school, when Father died, he inherited Father’s position at Mother’s request to oversee household affairs—contracts with tenant farmers, what in former times would be called tax collection, management of fields and mountain forests, and operation of peach orchards and vineyards.
They say his academic performance had far surpassed his peers; had he continued his schooling, he would have become an exceptional man. But Elder Brother accepted Mother’s words without particular regret for his remarkable talents, and from that time onward devoted himself here in these mountains to the family business alongside the tenant farmers.

Instead, he had striven to let us two younger brothers pursue to our heart's content the academic studies he himself could never undertake.
It was not due to any particular poverty, but rather that he had become a sacrifice for both the family business and his younger brothers—abandoning the schools he wished to attend and the studies he desired to pursue. Yet without uttering half a word of complaint nor showing the slightest displeasure, content to be the family's discarded stone as he worked in silence—whenever I thought of this Elder Brother's heart, whether during my high school years or university days, or later when stationed in London and Paris as an official, I cannot begin to express how deeply I must have harbored feelings of gratitude.

And surely my younger brother must have felt the same way.
The letters my younger brother sent me always expressed gratitude toward Elder Brother.

Having taken as his wife the daughter of a sake brewer from a small town twelve or thirteen ri away—selected by Mother—this being my sister-in-law, since she too was country folk, Elder Brother had naturally come under that influence, becoming thoroughly rustic in both attire and bearing.
If someone were to make Elder Brother walk through Tokyo's streets now, those superficial city dwellers would instantly scorn him as a country bumpkin or look upon him with disdain.
But the noble heart concealed within this slow-moving country bumpkin—who can say how much it had been an object of gratitude for me and my younger brother up to this very day.

I repeat myself, but even had my younger brother and I not been present at her final moments, with Elder Brother there alone, Mother would have passed from this world without lingering regrets through his and his wife's devoted care. Thinking this, I now felt compelled to kneel before Elder Brother and voice my gratitude for all he had done during my absence.

“Since you and Ryosaburou weren’t in Japan, I couldn’t send them to you. Truth be told, I’ve kept Mother’s keepsakes set aside like this...”

And Elder Brother told Sister-in-Law to open the chest’s drawer and show me.
Several of Mother’s fine-patterned kimonos, Ōshima crepe garments, haori jackets, and other clothing from her lifetime lay folded there.

“Once you’ve got yourself a household, take these back.”
“Hey, Okano!”
“If we alter ’em, wouldn’t Shinjirou here be able to wear ’em too, I wonder?”
“……Or maybe the rural patterns aren’t suited for this?”

He glanced back at Sister-in-Law and laughed.
When talk of Mother had concluded, the conversation naturally shifted to marriage with you.
"Settle down as soon as possible!"
And so my elder brother said.

And,

“Anyway, since Mother said so too—make the weddin’ as lavish as you damn well please! Mother’d already set aside funds for that very purpose—so go all out without feelin’ ashamed, hear? And since I’m at it—now that Mother’s passed, I reckon it’s best we divide the family property here and now. Us three brothers’ll split it three ways equal. Go on and stamp your seal on these documents. Then we’ll get it registered proper here—keep the fields if you want, sell ’em for cash if you’d rather—do as you damn well please.”

According to Elder Brother’s explanation, both my younger brother and I were to be allocated substantial portions—woodlands spanning several dozen hectares, fields of such-and-such acreage, vineyards of such-and-such extent—though as rural matters, their monetary evaluation would amount to little.

"That’s unfair, Brother!"
"What kind of foolish notion is this?!"
"Both Ryosaburou and I were able to complete our education thanks to you, Elder Brother—to pursue what we love."
"You’re the one who suppressed your own desires, laboring over the family business till your bones ached, only to parcel it all out… It’s through your efforts that both of us even came to receive these meager portions from the estate."

“It ain’t me givin’ it out—I’m just returnin’ what I been keepin’ safe from Mother.”

And Elder Brother smiled.

“I don’t need that much.
If you insist on giving it to us, take whatever portion you want first before dividing the remainder between me and Ryosaburou.”

“When someone’s doin’ somethin’ for ya, keep yer mouth shut! Take all ya want—won’t make no difference.”

Since he wasn’t one to go back on his word once spoken, I stopped raising further objections.

Once my cold had healed, I found myself unable to remain cooped up at home any longer.
While conversing with Elder Brother, I began considering returning to the capital perhaps as soon as tomorrow.
In that regard, there was one friend with whom I had been as close as siblings since childhood, even during my middle school dormitory days.
Unlike me—now settled into his own home, having become the father of two children and serving as deputy mayor of a neighboring village—he had come to visit me two or three times already upon hearing of my return.
Each time, Elder Brother met with him, but I had yet to do so.
Should I visit that friend now and return to Tokyo as soon as tomorrow?
And when he saw me preparing to leave,

“Should I have someone show ya the way?”

Elder Brother called out while putting away the documents.

“Don’t need that. I’ve been walking this path since I was a child, after all.”

“You’ve been livin’ only in London and Paris, yet ya still remember such a backwater mountain place, eh?”

And Elder Brother laughed.

“I hear Kasuke from the weir’s been catching a fair number of hirabe trout lately.”
“Since we’re gettin’ all sorts o’ things—why don’tcha tell Okano an’ take some as souvenirs?”

And I, returning to my middle school days of old, decided to visit my friend carrying hirabe trout strung through bamboo leaves—or rather, the yamame trout that Elder Brother called hirabe.
Looking back now, it seems this was precisely what compelled me to write such a letter to you.

IV

My friend had been at the village office, but upon hearing I had come to visit, he rushed back home.
And while he listened like a child—devouring stories of old friends, village gossip, and tales of Paris and London that held no novelty for me—our conversation topics showed no sign of running dry.
There’s nothing special, but he insisted I stay for dinner since it had been so long—and wouldn’t let me go.
As we sat gazing up at Mount Shiina-dake just beyond the shoji screen, passing cups back and forth with the yamame trout I’d brought down as a side dish, my friend suddenly asked, as if it had just occurred to him: “How’s your elder brother been lately?”
my friend inquired.

“But you just visited recently and met Elder Brother, didn’t you? He said you’d come three times already… No—I know that! I mean—how’s his work been goin’?” my friend hastily corrected himself.
“Oh right—seems he’s been lookin’ into timber an’ mandarin orange shipment prices an’ such for some reason.”
“Hmm... I see... So that’s how it is...” he trailed off in that manner, an’ as we went on talkin’ ’bout other things—

“By the way… Elder Brother hasn’t shown any changes lately… has he…?”

My friend may have uttered this without particular thought.
But I found it strange.

“Did something happen to my brother?”

“Nothin’ in particular… Why d’ya ask?”

“But you’ve been fixated on Elder Brother this whole time, haven’t you?”

“Ah, right… No, no—that was mighty rude o’ me.”
“Ah, well—ain’t nothin’ particular wrong or anythin’!”
“Come on now—down that cup, won’t ya!” he hastily changed the subject again.
And so we spent perhaps two or three hours engaged in idle chatter?
“Well now—we’ve talked quite a while, haven’t we? It’s about time I took my leave—” I had just straightened up when—

“So… from your perspective, Shin-san—ain’t nothin’ particular goin’ on between sister-in-law and Elder Brother that you’ve noticed?”

When he let that slip, I finally could no longer contain myself.

“D-don’t go gettin’ all worked up now! Ain’t no harm meant by it… Mighty awkward, this.”

And my friend was perplexed.

"I know that. I fully understand you meant no harm. But what I'm saying has nothing to do with malice or its absence."
"I'm saying there must be something about Elder Brother that's been on your mind."
"So that's why I'm asking you to tell me that."

"Even if ya say that kinda thing, it's just impossible!"
"You're blamin' me for somethin' that just slipped out without no thought behind it..."

And he showed a look of genuine bewilderment.

“In that case, well, I won’t ask then! If you’re that reluctant to speak about it, I won’t press you. After going through the trouble of meeting for the first time in ages, there’d be no point in making things unpleasant between us, I suppose.”

And I resigned myself.
But could it be that somewhere on my face as I prepared to leave, dissatisfaction still lingered?

“Hey, you—go wait over there.”
he sent his wife away,

“Alright then, Shin-san—do you really want to hear that badly?”

he stared at me with a solemn face.

“Of course I want to hear it—it’s about Elder Brother. How could I not be concerned?”

“This is trouble… But that ain’t no simple matter we’re dealing with here.”

He let out a sharp sigh.

“A’right then—this’s just between you ’n’ me, Shin-san. I’ll tell ya, I’ll tell ya—but this ain’t somethin’ I’m thinkin’ myself, y’hear?”
“It’s just that there’s folks in the village sayin’ such things—nothin’ but hearsay I’m passin’ along.”
“It’s just me passin’ it along—nothin’ more than that.”
“Ain’t that right?”

“…………”

I silently nodded.

“Alright then, I’ll tell ya… but no matter what kinda things get said, Shin-san—ya ain’t allowed to let it bother ya. There’s no way such a thing could exist—it’s absolutely nothin’ but nonsense…”

“…………”

“Truth is… The rumor goin’ round the village… says Elder Brother’s got himself a woman kept hidden away.”
“In Yorii town or somewheres… kept in some sorta arrangement… There’s talk ’bout folks spottin’ him makin’ regular trips there…”

“…………”

“And then… there’s another matter… Mighty delicate, this…”

My friend suddenly dropped his voice to a hushed tone.

“Officially… your mother passed from illness, Shin-san… but that’s just for show… Truth is… they’re sayin’ Elder Brother might’ve… might’ve done her in… poisoned her, maybe… killed ’er…”

“What? Poisoning?”

The moment I heard this, I felt my face go pale.
Even as the blood drained from my cheeks, I couldn’t believe what reached my ears.
While doubting my own hearing, my body began trembling uncontrollably.

“Th-that’s why I kept tellin’ ya it’s trouble!”
“Ain’t no call for your face to bleach white like that.”
“Just village folks waggin’ their tongues—nothin’ more to it!”
“...Didn’t wanna say a word, but y’all kept pushin’ ‘no no’ till I spilled...”

“So… so… I’m glad…”

And I gasped.

“Because it’s you, I’m grateful you told me! But even if that rumor were true… I can’t fathom… What possible reason could Elder Brother have for killing Mother? Elder Brother is so filial…”

“Th-that’s the kinda voice you’re usin’! That’s right, that’s right! Since around this spring—since them rumors started up—I ain’t been able to think of no reason for it neither. Mother’s as you see her—no doubt a proper woman, and whether it’s Elder Brother or Sister-in-Law, they get along with everyone… They ain’t the sort to force unreasonable things on folks or say a word about ’em.”

And my friend, startled by my intensity, began making flustered excuses.

“No matter where ya look, there ain’t nothin’ that adds up.”
“Like, if Mother held the real power ’n’ Elder Brother couldn’t freely use money—then maybe there’d be somethin’ to think ’bout—but he’s been inheritin’ the family position since his youth, free to handle money ’n’ all… Heck, when folks tried consultin’ her ’bout things, Mother’s the one who’d get bothered ’n’ duck out.”
“I ain’t heard any stories ’bout Elder Brother and Mother havin’ disagreements or nothin’…”

“Differing opinions? Far from it! Elder Brother has never once gone against what Mother says since the old days.”

“And Mother always defers to Elder Brother in everything—ain’t no reason for conflicts to arise, right?”

“When did those rumors start going around?”

“The rumors first reached my ears ’round this spring, but whenever them villagers get together, they ain’t doin’ nothin’ but whisperin’ that kinda talk…”

“Does Elder Brother know about those rumors?”

“Ain’t no way them rumors’d reach Elder Brother’s ears.”
“He’s the top big shot through all the nearby villages, y’know.”
“Where’d ya find anyone bold enough to bring such talk to Elder Brother’s ears?”

“Is Elder Brother’s reputation in the village… bad?”
“To think such rumors are being spread…”

“Bad? Far from it!
“Everyone’s speakin’ well of ’im.”
“He’s such a big-hearted man… Given his character, ain’t no way there’d be any reason to speak ill of ’im…”

“His reputation isn’t bad, and yet they’re spreading such rumors…”

And once more, I fell into deep thought.
The alcohol I’d drunk had gone completely cold, leaving my limbs quivering uncontrollably.
Yet no matter how I racked my brain, nothing came to mind.

“Now Shin-san, no need to go stewin’ yourself raw over it!”
“Ain’t nothin’ been settled for certain-like.”
“Just fools spoutin’ poison tongues—that’s all I meant by trouble!”
“Look here, Shin-san!”
“Quit makin’ such a death-pale face!”
“Well ’s different from town matters—no wonder you’re broodin’—but ’specially with Elder Brother... No damn way such foolery’s true... Shoulda kept my trap shut ’bout nothin’...”

I understood my friend was utterly distressed, but even as I stared at his face, I could no longer muster the strength for social niceties—not even to utter a word.
After all, they say smoke doesn't rise without at least some fire—we couldn't rule out even a one-in-ten-thousand possibility.
That was why I needed to keep close watch over Elder Brother's movements there for some time.
"Since you're bound for Tokyo, Shin-san, I'll do my damnedest to keep watch here in your stead."

“And if by any chance somethin’ makes ya think this might be true, I’ll send a telegram—when that happens, I want ya back here quick.”
“Even if ya do come back, don’t go near Elder Brother’s place—come straight here.”
“If this patricide business gets found out, it’ll be hell—we’ll have to smother it any way we can.”
My friend kept repeating these assurances like a mantra, mouth parched from urging me to stop fretting and just go back to Tokyo for now.

Half-hearing Tomoharu’s words through a fog, I finally said my goodbyes and started homeward—but if solid proof of mother-killing ever surfaced, could some backwater deputy mayor’s influence really suffocate such a crime?
The distance between my friend’s house and mine stretched over eight kilometers.

Terraced paths of mountain fields, red clay roads cut through foothills, lonely farmhouses—their eaves hung with persimmons and konjac tubers—scattered here and there—the winter-bare mountain dwellings stood desolate.

Over that desolate, humanless mountain ridge shone a terrifying waning crescent moon—razor-sharp in its crystalline clarity.
Compared to that terrifying moonlight—no—with what crushing weight of emotion must Elder Brother have been tormented by his own far more dreadful heart?
Of course, no matter how exhaustively I thought and pondered, I simply could not come up with anything.
Given that such an unforeseen grave matter had suddenly occurred, I simply could not bring myself to return to the capital now.
In any case, I sent notices to you and the Ministry stating that my cold had worsened and I would be delayed three or four days.

V

Even after returning home, how much effort I went through to avoid meeting Elder Brother and Sister-in-Law—I believe you can imagine this. Under normal circumstances, given that there was such a guilty matter, the one who should have been struggling was not I. I thought it only natural that Elder Brother should be the one struggling, but try as I might, I simply couldn't bring myself to face him and Sister-in-Law with a feigned expression of ignorance. When I sensed Sister-in-Law's presence in the parlor—likely intending to call for me as she seemed to be preparing tea—I hurriedly laid out my bedding and went to sleep. Even when my nephew came calling or Sister-in-Law came to greet me, I pretended to be exhausted and asleep.

“Must’ve come down with another cold from walkin’ them unfamiliar mountain paths, eh?”

Elder Brother came in and sat down worriedly at my bedside, but since I remained silent beneath the bedcovers, he eventually left with an air of discomfort. Even with my eyes closed, my head burned feverishly, making sleep utterly impossible.

Whenever I began to doze off, my mother in her death shroud—prayer beads clutched in her funeral attire—would appear dimly at my bedside... until my entire body became drenched in sweat. The parlor, the servants' quarters—all voices within the household had fallen silent. In this early morning of the mountain village, had everyone already settled into sleep?

Staring at the dimly lit ceiling's knotholes, I spent that entire night tossing and turning upon the bedding—how I must have suffered through that endless darkness without a moment's sleep.

The moment I began to doze off, visions would assail me—detectives bursting in to lead away Elder Brother and Sister-in-Law shackled together, their heads hanging low. Though my original intention had been to calmly monitor Elder Brother’s behavior and reflect carefully, my mind—having endured a sleepless night of torment—had now utterly lost all capacity for such composed reasoning and judgment.

The next morning, eyes swollen, when I entered the parlor, Elder Brother and his wife had already finished breakfast and were sipping post-meal tea.

“Oh, what’s this—did’ja manage to get some proper sleep?”

As soon as he saw my face, Elder Brother called out.

“…Yeah… Well…”

“How’s yer cold?”

“…That’s cleared up too, but…”

“Well, long as that’s settled… But I was worried ’bout a relapse, see… Still lookin’ mighty peaky there.”
“Why don’t ya rest up a bit more ’stead of pushin’ yerself? Wouldn’t that be better?”

“…Brother, I have something to discuss… Are you going out somewhere?”

“I was thinkin’ of headin’ over to the union, but…”
“Nah, ’s long as it gets done later, s’all good.”
“What’s this about?”
“This talk you mentioned—’bout what?”

“Well then—once we’re done talkin’, let’s have us some grub.”

Thinking it must be a secret discussion between brothers, Sister-in-Law excused herself from the table.

"What's this about?"
"This matter you mentioned—'bout what?"

“Yeah… There’s something I need to discuss!
“……Could we step outside?”

“Outside?”

Elder Brother made a puzzled face.

“I don’t mind, but—how ’bout ya eat somethin’ first?”
“……I don’t want to eat. ……Let’s go.”
“Mighty big business we got here first thing in the mornin’.”

Two or three *chō* from the back door flowed the Kanogawa River—the same river where my younger brother and I used to swim as children.
The wide gravel bed lay one step lower than the embankment, and as in days of old, you descended via a narrow path winding down from the base of a great horse chestnut tree.

"How far we goin'? What's this 'bout anyway?"

With apparent suspicion, Elder Brother followed along with his hands tucked into his sleeves, but when I stopped in that area, he too halted his steps.

"This area ain't changed a lick from the old days neither, eh?"

“Brother, there’s something that doesn’t sit right with me…”

I began.

“The other day—you said you’d divide the property for me… for me and Ryosaburou, didn’t you? What exactly did that mean? I just can’t make sense of it.”

“What part doesn’t sit right with you, eh? The world’s changed—ain’t the times anymore where the eldest son alone inherits the parents’ property, what with Mother havin’ passed on… And you comin’ back now made it a good chance, so I said what I did. The Civil Code’s changed too, y’know.”

“I don’t want to hear lectures about the Civil Code from you, Brother… For you to suddenly bring this up after I’ve returned—it feels like you’re trying to placate me. Don’t you find that strange?”

“Ain’t like I’m tryin’ to butter you up or nothin’.”
“Ain’t nothin’ strange ’bout it at all!”
“I’d been thinkin’ that all along. … But what’s this—suddenly spoutin’ such nonsense and draggin’ me out to this godforsaken spot!”
“What’s gotten into ya, Shinjirou?”

A look of suspicion spread across Elder Brother’s face.

“You got some problem with how I’m doin’ things, eh? Are ya sayin’ the split ain’t good enough, eh?”

“I’d never say such a thing! First of all, as for the property… I think even Ryosaburou would agree. Even though I never said I wanted anything from my side, isn’t it strange that you suddenly bring up such a thing the moment you see my face?! ……Is there something you’re hiding from me, Brother……”

“Well then—what reason would I have to butter you up?”
“Ain’t I been listenin’ to ya?!”
“First off—ain’t like I’m the one wantin’ to split it for ya.”
“’Twas Mother’s idea.”
“...so the three brothers could get along well...”

“That doesn’t matter! What I’m asking about… what I’m asking about…”

Due to the frustration of not being able to voice my thoughts, I grew impatient.

“Brother, you’ve done something outrageous to Mother, haven’t you?”

That one phrase—"Brother, you’ve done something outrageous to Mother, haven’t you?"—just wouldn’t come out.

“Brother, isn’t there something there? There’s something you can’t bring yourself to say… That’s why you’re offering to divide the property—to apologize to me and Ryosaburou…”

“So what’s this ’bout needin’ to apologize to you an’ Ryosaburou—ain’t I been listenin’ this whole time? You’ve gone an’ spouted some right nonsense now, Shinjirou! I don’t understand a damn thing you’re on ’bout, but I ain’t done a single thing needs apologizin’ to you or Ryosaburou!”

“Are you doin’ it or not? That’s exactly why I’m askin’!”
“I… I don’t want any of this strange inheritance!”

“Quit probin’ a belly that ain’t even sore! I ain’t lookin’ to get nothin’ from you neither!”

Elder Brother also raised his voice.

“What’s this nonsense?! To talk ’bout such things—you had to drag me out to this godforsaken place at the crack o’ dawn! If it’s such a simple matter, then ain’t it enough if I don’t hear no more? We’re done here! Unlike someone like me... I thought you’d become a real sharp one with that big brain o’ yours... Turned out to be nothin’ special after all, Shinjirou.”

As if in pity, Elder Brother fixed his eyes on me.

“I gotta show my face at the association, so I’m headin’ back—headin’ back, but… Don’t know what you’re thinkin’, but since we’re here, I’ll say one more thing.”

He stopped his steps that had started to retreat two or three paces and, in a suddenly changed grave tone, began to speak as if talking to himself.

“I’ve discussed this with Okano too, but…”

Okano is, of course, my sister-in-law.

“Ever since Mother passed away... Not that there’s any deep reason to it, but I’ve grown right sick of this wretched village life.”
“If I had something decent to sell, I’d move to town—maybe Fukai Town—and take up some trade that suits me... live out my days more carefree, y’know? But if I jump into a business I ain’t used to, who knows what kinda mess I’d end up in.”
“Me—I’m fine with reapin’ what I’ve sown, y’know? Don’t mind sufferin’ for it, but… it’d weigh heavy on our ancestors and kin, so I figured I’d at least split what needs splittin’ now between you and Ryosaburou. …This was my idea—mine alone—but… damn if you ain’t a fool!”
“You don’t understand a damn thing about people’s hearts, spouting such nonsense!”

Fukai was a town located twenty-six or twenty-seven ri from here, and along the way to this town lay my sister-in-law’s family home.

“Hmm… Brother’s goin’ into business?”
“What kinda business you plannin’ to do?”

“Even if I tried sellin’ it off, ain’t like buyers’d come flockin’ to pass it from right hand to left… Haven’t thought that far yet anyhow—whatever I do, it’ll just be the work of an unlearned man like me.”
“Somethin’ that suits these hands… like a hardware store or housewares shop, maybe…”

…………

Of course, it must have been exactly as Elder Brother said.
Even if under the Agricultural Land Law we had transferred rice fields and farmland to tenant farmers, there still remained hundreds of chōbu of forests and orchards, making Elder Brother the wealthiest man in the village.
Rather than being first in the village, it might have been more accurate to say he ranked among the top in the prefecture.
That Elder Brother would grow weary of village life and move to Fukai Town to open a hardware or housewares shop...

It was precisely his gentle disposition that suited him for such work.
As someone who knew well the burdens of a landowning family business in this tradition-bound countryside, under normal circumstances I might not have found Elder Brother's words particularly strange.
But in my mind, my friend's words clung stubbornly.
Your brother has taken a woman... and is killing Mother...

Ah, so he’s being led astray by that woman, abandoning the earnest village life to set out for town.
And... and there must be some circumstance there that’s unbearable for the village... So that’s how it was after all!
And so, my suspicions deepened further.

“When people are worrying themselves sick, if you’re going to play dumb like this, then I’ll ask straight out! You’ll answer what I have to say.”
“Brother, you said Mother had been ill for a long time, didn’t you?”
“Who was treating her during all that time? Was it Osawa? Kougotou?”
“Was she seeing Kamohara-san?”

Osawa, Kougotou, and Kamohara were all doctors from the village and nearby towns whom I’d known since childhood.

“Kougotou skipped town, so he ain’t in the village no more.”
“Mother had what they call an atrophic kidney—the worst kind of kidney disease there is.”
“What could the likes of Osawa or Kamohara—those quacks—even handle?!”
“That’s why we had Dr. Tsuchiya—a specialist from Hamada—come see ’em.”
“Through that doctor’s referral, we even had Dr. Kamei—some big-shot from Matsue—come examine her two or three times.”
“The day before she passed away, I’m certain both of ’em came to see her too.”

“Who wrote the death certificate?”

“That Dr. Tsuchiya fella wrote it.”
“’Cause she was our only parent—I did everything I could, y’know?”
“I don’t plan on being lectured by you about this and that.”

“Then why did you bury her in a place like Sougen-ji, so far away, when there’s the family temple right here in the village?”

“I thought I’d already explained the reason before.”

Elder Brother also openly showed a look of displeasure.

“It was Mother’s wish.”
“After listening to the Abbot’s sermons there, she kept saying she wanted to be buried there when she died—that’s why we buried her there.”

“Mother’s records from during her illness… things like doctor’s payments or funeral expenses… have you kept any of those?”

“I did jot down all those trivial details, but keepin’ ’em around’s no use now—ain’t nothin’ left anymore, right? Done burned ’em all up.”

“Couldn’t help but burn ’em—ain’t that why I did it?”
“Brother, I’ve been hearin’ that same line from you since earlier!”
I held back what was rising up in my throat.

“Will you have them searched for?”

“If you wanna see ’em, I’ll look for ’em—but they’re likely long gone by now.”

“I would think such records ought to be kept preserved—if only to show them to us two younger brothers later. Don’t you agree, Brother?”

“There ain’t no need for that kinda thing. If someone meant to saddle us brothers with money troubles later, maybe they’d keep ’em—but if not, what good’s starin’ at account books after someone’s dead? The departed ain’t comin’ back to life or nothin’…”

Elder Brother sneered.

"If that’s the case, then tell me what kind of people attended Mother’s funeral."

“What do you need that for?… Everyone came.”
“Shinya’s Mokichi-san, Nagahara’s Okan-san, Toyota’s Uncle, Kan’emon-san, Great-Uncle Shinbei… Can’t list ’em all one by one. The whole village gathered—was a proper splendid funeral.”

“That’s not what I’m asking about.
“When someone dies, you let them use hot water to change into burial garments… You perform the purification bath, don’t you?
“What kind of people attended that purification bath—that’s what I’m asking.”

“She insisted she didn’t want nobody touchin’ her body after dyin’, so we didn’t do that purification bath… though that’s really the women’s duty anyway…”

Even Elder Brother, who had begun speaking with his usual calmness, indignantly cut off his words.

“Shinjirou!”
“Your words are mighty sharp-tongued today.”
“I feel like I’m bein’ downright interrogated by you here.”
“This ain’t exactly pleasant.”
“Enough of this talk—quit it right here. I ain’t got the patience to keep hearin’ such nonsense from my own flesh-and-blood brother!”

Elder Brother started to turn back with displeasure, his steps brisk.

“You said you needed me at the union—dragged me all the way out to this godforsaken spot like there was urgent business—and it’s nothing but this nonsense! You stupid fool—damned idiot! Suspectin’ your own flesh-and-blood brother?!”

“Are you running away, Brother?! ……Is it because you can’t give a clear answer that you’re running away? This will and that will…”

“Where’s the need for me to run from you?”

Elder Brother also turned around, seething with rage.

“If there’s somethin’ else you wanna ask, come back another time when you’re feelin’ calmer and try again, y’know! There ain’t no reason for me to be gettin’ interrogated by you.”

That was likely the first time in my life I had seen my elder brother’s face contorted with rage.
I stood rooted to the spot, vacantly gazing at Elder Brother’s retreating figure as he turned along the embankment path, through withered pampas grass shadows, beyond dead smoke tree branches, then around the field’s far edge.
As I watched his portly frame—dressed like a country squire in that double-layered hunting-collar coat—I found it utterly inconceivable that this guileless, kind-hearted brother could ever harm a parent, regardless of circumstance or feminine deception.
How could that paragon of filial devotion—that brother so devoted to Mother—commit such an act!

Moreover, I had absolutely no intention of summoning Elder Brother all the way out here to scold or interrogate him. Keep it hidden from Ryosaburou—but at least to me, Elder Brother, please speak frankly. I don’t know what circumstances led to this, but Mother’s situation is beyond help now. However, Elder Brother—no matter what it takes—I must protect you with every ounce of my strength! And within my heart, I was screaming. And yet, what emerged from my mouth felt unnaturally stiff—exactly like an argumentative interrogation. Under these circumstances, it was only natural that Elder Brother would be angry.

The things I intended to say never left my mouth—only unintended words spilled forth, and though they took on an interrogative tone, they never touched upon the core of the matter I sought to uncover, merely circling around and around it pointlessly.
But I no longer had the strength to question Elder Brother any further.

Six

From the very next day onward, how painfully awkward and unresolved my relationship with Elder Brother became—well, there is no particular need to elaborate on that either.

I avoided meeting Elder Brother carelessly, but it seemed he too—whether imagined or not—was avoiding me.
From the following day onward, there were no opportunities to meet Elder Brother face-to-face in a familiar manner, though on rare occasions when something happened, it wasn’t impossible that we might encounter each other.
In those moments, there was nothing like Elder Brother’s startled demeanor.
Squinting as if dazzled, stealing furtive glances at people’s faces—so much so that I myself began to pity him.

“Well… I reckon… that’s about the size of it…”

He spoke up hesitantly, mindful of others’ reactions.

“Once your health mends proper, get yourself back to Tokyo quick-like… Not that I’m sayin’ you’re underfoot here and need scrammin’, mind—but you’ve got duties what matter there. Best you take your time comin’ back proper when you’re set.”
“That young lady over yonder must be waitin’ on you somethin’ fierce, I’d wager.”

Of course, there could be no doubt that Elder Brother was not actually concerned about me putting off my return to the capital by a day.

But to me, even those words of Elder Brother’s seemed to plead—Couldn’t you stop staring so piercingly at me and just let me go already? And those words inevitably sounded as if he were desperately pleading.

And so, these words and actions of Elder Brother’s had sealed my heart within profound doubt, anguish, and melancholy—I had already sent three telegrams to Tokyo postponing my return.

On the very day I resolved that tomorrow—no matter what—I would prostrate myself before Elder Brother, weeping if need be, to get him to reveal the truth, my young nephew suddenly told me, "Tomorrow Dad’s going all the way to Yorii town for business!"

Ah, so he's pretending it's business while actually going to see a woman? I intuitively realized. About ten days had already passed since I came here. In all this time, Elder Brother had never once been away from home for even half a day or a full day. At last he could no longer endure it and is going to the woman's place, is he? I concluded.

Very well—in that case, I resolved that tomorrow I too would follow Elder Brother. It wasn't as if I particularly wanted to see the woman Elder Brother was involved with or anything like that. But if I were to catch Elder Brother with a woman in an inescapable situation, then it would become evident that he had killed Mother. No—rather than that, I thought the mere fact that I knew Elder Brother's secret would compel him to resign himself and confess the truth without me having to voice those unspeakable suspicions.

And then, as soon as I woke up in the morning, I climbed the mountain in front of the house and hid in the shade of a tree.

Around seven in the morning, when there was no one in sight, Elder Brother emerged from the gate.
Dressed in a striped kimono and bird-hunting cap without an overcoat—his hem tucked up and rucksack strapped to his back—he stood outfitted in gaiters and straw sandals.
Surely he couldn’t be going to meet a woman dressed like this.
I wondered if he meant to change clothes upon reaching Yorii town.
In any case, since withdrawing cash would draw suspicion, I concluded he must have packed family heirlooms—valuable scrolls or antiques—into that rucksack instead.

I stumbled down the mountain and began tailing him while weaving in and out of sight.

Up until now, I had never once experienced such a thing as tailing someone. Especially at the end of the year, in this remote mountain village around seven or eight in the morning, there were almost no people coming or going. Since I was plodding along after Elder Brother down this path where not a soul passed, one could scarcely imagine how painstakingly I had to avoid letting him notice me.

Since I had no proper disguise at hand, I pulled out my father’s tattered double-layered jacket from his youth—stored in the closet—and draped it over my Western clothes, pulled the hood deep over my head, covered my nose and mouth with a mask, and walked with great effort, careful not to get too close yet not lose sight of him.

Deep in thought, I followed Elder Brother's movements.
But how swift-footed country folk are!
Inside my hood, I sweated breathlessly to keep him in sight.

We passed through bamboo thickets, crossed gravel paths along fields, climbed slopes that stabbed at our chests—having walked three or four ri since morning, noon must have passed.
Up and down we went; I felt we'd crossed three mountain passes already.

Since these were childhood memories, I couldn’t recall them clearly, but I felt certain the road forked into two paths ahead. After another one or two ri, I supposed we would reach Sōgen-ji temple in Kitano—where Mother was buried—in a village beyond our neighboring village’s neighbor. If you crossed the log bridge over the mountain stream on the left and pushed through the bamboo thicket up the steep slope, Yorii town lay hazed in the distance at Hieda Mountain’s base, small as a bean grain. That stretch too must have measured about one or two ri.

There he stood, seemingly deep in thought, but before long Elder Brother lowered his rucksack and sat down on a roadside stone.
He took out a bamboo sheath package and seemed about to use it for lunch.
From where I stood, about five or six ken into the field beyond, a stone Jizo statue and four or five clustered trees grew thickly as if left behind. Since remaining here risked catching Elder Brother’s eye, I hurriedly scrambled up to conceal myself there.

This position ensured he wouldn't notice me even if he turned around, while from my vantage point I could just make out Elder Brother's head above the stone wall.

But the moment I hid in the thicket and held my breath, a shock ran through me—my entire body broke out in goosebumps.
Though absolutely certain Elder Brother hadn't detected my pursuit, he'd unexpectedly retraced his steps to the very path where I now crouched hidden,

“Hey, Shinjirou!”
“Shinjirou!”

he was calling out.

“Shinjirou!
“You ain’t hidin’ in a place like that—come out and have some rice?”

Peering through the branches, I saw Elder Brother looking up at me, the bamboo-sheath package still open in his hands.

“…………”

“How long you gonna keep up this weird act? Hurry up and get out here!”

“…………”

“You think you’re hidin’, but hey! From there—the sleeve of that jacket’s showin’!”

“…………”

“Even after all this, you’re still diggin’ in your heels? If you’re gonna be that stubborn… then I ain’t hidin’ nothin’ no more! Hurry up and get out here!”

At this point, there was no longer any need to hide. I revealed myself and stood before Elder Brother. He must have made up his mind by now. That dazzled look was gone from his eyes. He had returned to his usual, calm expression.

“You must be hungry—why don’t ya have some lunch?”

Inside the protruding bamboo sheath lay crumbling barley rice balls, accompanied by a large wrinkled pickled radish placed beside them.

"I don't need it!"

"Then I'll save mine for later too."

Elder Brother retracted the bamboo sheath.

“So ya were followin’ me after all, huh?”

I silently nodded.

"Ain't no helpin' it—do what ya think's right."
"I ain't hidin' nothin' no more!"
"I'd wanted ya alone to live happy—but ain't in my power no more. Come along if ya must."

"Brother... Brother..."

And I opened my mouth for the first time.
"Did you know it was me?"

"Did'ya think wearin' somethin' like Father's loincloth would keep me from knowin' it was you?"

Elder Brother laughed with a lonely look.

“I kept hopin’—if only you’d given up and gone back, that’d been best.”
“If ya wanna come, then come… You comin’?”

And I, flinging off the stifling headcloth, started walking after Elder Brother.
After that, Elder Brother did not speak another word.
I too did not speak a word and began climbing the rocky mountain path, where not a single soul crossed our way.

Elder Brother did not cross the log bridge.
He was not going to Yorii.
He began climbing the winding mountain path along the stone wall toward Kita-no-mura.

Maintaining a stubborn silence, stepping on rocky edges and treading over gravel, we continued along the mountain path for another ri or ri and a half—it might have already been around two in the afternoon. During that time, the words Elder Brother spoke amounted to just a single sentence…

“Hungry yet?
“Won’t ya eat?”

After that, it was just thinking and thinking as I walked along the path.
The mountain path finally came to an end, and we entered a hamlet, but this area appeared to be the outskirts of Kita-no-mura, with scarcely any dwellings that resembled proper houses.

Elder Brother continued climbing the gentle slope in silence.
Where Elder Brother was heading had finally dawned on me.
Elder Brother was trying to go to Sōgen-ji Temple, where Mother was buried.
He had postponed going to Yorii and gone to the temple to meet with the priest our mother had devoted herself to—trying to have him hear the full story.
On the way back, did he plan to visit Mother’s grave and pay his respects?
I wondered.

Finally, we emerged before the familiar temple gate. Beyond the worn-down stone pavement and moss-covered steps that may have endured centuries, the aforementioned Nioh Gate stood tall and imposing. And far beyond that, a small thatch-roofed main hall—bearing no resemblance to the Nioh Gate—stood encircled by pitch-black old cedars, exuding an eerie gloom unchanged from ages past.

But when we climbed those stone steps, Elder Brother did not head toward the main hall; instead, he swung sharply around to the side of the Nioh Gate.
On the backside was a sturdy lattice door for ascending this gate.
For the first time, restlessly and fearfully glancing about, Elder Brother surveyed our surroundings.

“Hey! Someone might see us—hurry, hurry!”
“Ain’t nobody watchin’ us? Nobody at all?”
“C’mon now, get in there quick!”
“Hurry!”

When I too jumped in after him, I latched the door as if snapping it shut for the first time.
Attached to the dust-covered plank floor was a crude ladder.
The old rotting wooden ladder appeared to have been recently reinforced, and at the top of it lay another similar ladder on the plank floor.
Upon climbing this one, there was yet another.

Emerging onto dust-choked plank floors only to climb again, emerging and climbing again—after scaling three ladders in total, what appeared to be the very summit revealed through creaking cracks in the floorboards the crown of the Nioh statue’s head. By now, this area received no sunlight, and with each step we took through the musty stench, centuries-old dust billowed up in thick clouds. The ceiling hung low, threatening to engulf one’s head, with pillars and rafters jutting chaotically—it became clear this was now the attic space of the Nioh Gate.

Since Elder Brother was crawling forward, I followed behind him—but peering down from this height, I felt certain all the mountain passes and paths we had crossed would lie visible in one sweeping view. Then at the far end came a small makeshift skylight—and there, bathed in its faint glow, what suddenly met my eyes! On that dust-choked plank floor lay four old tatami mats—and upon them, propped against a thick quilt, perfectly still and facing this direction was—!

Her white hair wildly disheveled—one eye swollen shut, the other turned askew—no eyebrows, no nose—a flat face with a single gaping black hole—the entire visage festering and eroded beyond recognition—this old woman—!
A leprosy patient in such an advanced, unimaginably ravaged state—that old woman was!

“I kept thinkin’ I shoulda come sooner, but what with one thing ’n’ another, couldn’t get free…”

Suddenly, Elder Brother pressed his forehead to the plank floor.

“Mother, Shinjirou here he be...”

“Wh... What? Mother?”

“The Shinjirou you’re always goin’ on ’bout—he’s come back from France.”
“Meet ’im! Let ’im see ya!”
“Mother’s already fit to burst—you wouldn’t grasp it, would ya!”

“Th... th... this is Mother?!
“M... M... Mother... was that you?”

And there I collapsed.

“I... I... I didn’t know... th... this was Mother... I... didn’t know.”
“Brother!”
“H-have mercy!”

Tears gushed forth one after another, and now for me, Mother’s form had vanished from sight.
Mother could not recognize my form either.
What Elder Brother was saying—that I had returned—!
Only the whitish eye on one side stared vacantly and hollowly off into space.
Whether I could hear Elder Brother’s words or not—I couldn’t tell!

“It’s Tomoharu’s birthday today… See here—I’ve brought plenty of your favorite red bean rice.”
“And vinegared dishes too, I’ve brought ’em, I tell ya.”
“Here’s the kinpira… Got some simmered veggies too… Flatfish simmered…”

Opening the backpack, what Elder Brother was taking out was neither hanging scrolls nor furnishings—not even tea utensils of any sort. To be carried over the five-ri mountain path—Sister-in-Law must have packed it. All of it—nothing but bamboo-wrapped food! Simmered vegetables… vinegared dishes… red bean rice… soy sauce bottle… one-gō sake bottle… takuan pickles wrapped…

Why had Elder Brother been subjected to such abominable rumors? Had he been silently enduring such backbiting while obediently keeping everything hidden? And had he devoted himself solely to securing his siblings’ happiness while truly coming to feel no attachment whatsoever to village life or family wealth? I had completely come to grasp all of that as well.

No—it wasn’t merely that I had comprehended all those things. Why had he not shown her to the village doctor and instead called one from afar? The reason why he had claimed to have buried her not in the village’s family temple but in this distant one—all of it groaned forth in this instant, melting and flowing away to vanish within my heart. All of it—every last thing—had been my elder brother’s single-minded devotion to letting my younger brother and me live happy lives.

And he—without uttering a single complaint or stringing together any lamentations—devoted himself silently to caring for Mother with every ounce of filial piety... This was my Elder Brother’s true form.
It now melted away in my heart with a resounding crash in an instant.
That Mother—once so enthusiastic about children’s education, stricter than anyone in household teachings—now lay utterly helpless like a child, while Elder Brother leaned close to her festering body reeking of decay, putting food into her mouth with chopsticks as if feeding an infant!

Unable to wait for Elder Brother to feed her, gobbling noisily while groping blindly about like a child thrusting her hands into the bamboo-wrapped bundle—Mother’s utter helplessness! Was this my precious, precious mother?! Overwhelmed by the sheer wretchedness, I covered my face and wailed. Moreover, several of those fingers scrabbling through the bamboo wrapping had fallen off.

I could not bear to look at anything without tears, but what made my tears flow even more was the sight of Elder Brother—after the meal had ended—stealthily fetching water, thrusting the dirty plates and bowls into a bucket, and washing them with a work sash tied around him. And when he finished washing, there was Elder Brother—spreading a rag over the dust-covered plank floor and tending to her waste. At home, where he would have been attended by over a dozen servants as the foremost landowner in the village, the sight of Elder Brother working diligently yet clumsily made my tears flow even more unceasingly than Mother’s pitiful state had.

And never before had I thought so intensely of prostrating myself before my noble Elder Brother—of apologizing for my sins over these past four or five days that had tormented him utterly, of thanking him with tears of blood for the hardships he had endured due to Mother’s illness.

Seven

Ms. Reiko Nakagome

I have written up to this point.
I think you will kindly understand everything without me having to say more.

According to medical teachings, leprosy may not be hereditary.
It may be a constitution-based contagious disease stemming from an environment prone to contagion.
Even if my mother has leprosy, perhaps the disease may not develop within my lifetime.
However, the fact that I am the child of a mother suffering from leprosy cannot be denied in any way whatsoever.
That is why I have written this detailed letter.

Despite having accepted my plea and seen your two younger sisters marry to establish their own households, I do not know how to offer my apologies for you alone having graciously waited two or three years.
However, matters have now come to this.
Please resign yourself to considering our relationship as something of the past and forget about me.
And if there is a suitable person for you, please marry as soon as possible and spend your days in happiness—you alone.
It was to make this request that I have written this letter.

Some time ago, in the letter I received from you in Paris, it was written that your father intended to present a new Fregatte automobile as a congratulatory gift when you were to marry.
Of course, when you establish your new household, you will likely bring one of your many maids along.
Until just five or six days ago, I too had considered that to be an ordinary matter.

As long as you remain the renowned Ms. Nakagome’s beloved daughter, I had thought it only natural that you would do such things.
And I too had not found it in the least strange to attend evening parties hosted by various ambassadors while wearing tuxedos and tailcoats.
But that life I had lived until now has flown away to a place so far beyond my reach.
At the very moment when I would have been maintaining a new home with you—attended by maids while seated in an automobile and wearing a tuxedo to course through capital avenues—my Elder Brother wore straw sandals on the lonesome five-ri mountain path, eating a rice ball by himself at the roadside.

Mother was in the dust-covered attic of the Nioh Gate, her hair disheveled, waste streaming from her body, thrusting her hands into the bamboo-wrapped bundle Elder Brother provided.
When I realized I had abandoned those pitiful kin and my brother while building nothing but designs for my own happy life until today, I gaped wide—wanting to laugh at my heart's wretchedness.
And I stiffened, my heart turning cold.
I could no longer even consider myself a diplomat of the state.
For me—the younger brother wiping floorboards with a work sash tied about him; for me—the child of a mother with disheveled hair and fallen nose—such things could no longer be considered: mere remnants of a bygone past.
To this current self, it is a life like heat haze in this world—unreachable even in dreams.

And let me assure you that in stating these things, I am not being sentimental. What room could there possibly be for sentimentality in a human being confronted with such a miserable, cruel, and desperate fate?

On the 26th of last month, I finally mustered the resolve to go to Tokyo—both to offer the long-delayed greetings upon assuming my post and to submit my resignation.
Taking the night train, I arrived at Shinbashi past noon and proceeded directly to the ministry in Tamura-cho, where I submitted my resignation to the bureau chief.
Without stating any reason beyond declaring that I had simply grown to dislike being a diplomat, I was urged by the bureau chief to withdraw my resignation, admonished by senior colleagues, and finally taken before the vice-minister where attempts were made to dissuade me.

However, I ultimately submitted my resignation and left the ministry around six in the evening.
I made my way along the train street to Shinbashi Entrance, through that brick road under the railway bridge, past the Tokyo Department Store bustling with year-end sales, and emerged into the station grounds.
The streets of Tokyo, now past Christmas, were adorned for the approaching New Year, their neon lights shining beautifully in the night sky.

Until my departure time drew near, I leaned against a pillar gazing at the neon lights, thinking how I wished to stay at a hotel for one night and bid Tokyo a heartfelt farewell. But the faces of Elder Brother and Mother kept flitting before my eyes, and I found myself utterly unable to stay in Tokyo. I boarded the 9:45 Kan'etsu Express and absently gazed out the window until departure, when lights shone in the night sky from what seemed to be the heights spanning behind the Diet Building through Kōjimachi and Akasaka.

When I wondered how you might be faring, I found myself wanting to see you even just once—this inexorable urge to meet you arose. Yet while my eyes remained shut, the train began moving. Still, I could not bring myself to open them.

After passing through Omori, Kamata, and Kawasaki, when the lights of Tokyo had grown somewhat distant, I finally calmed my heart and was able to open my eyes.

I feel like I want to wail.
Like a child, if I were to press my face against someone’s chest and cry to my heart’s content, I think my chest would surely feel refreshed.
But no matter how much I might cry, what could I possibly do about this fact?
In any case, there is no longer any place for me to live outside of here.
I am writing this letter in the attic of the Nioh Gate by the light of a lantern.

I feel lonely.
I feel pathetic.
Spinelessly, tears come welling up.
However, strangely, my heart grows calm.
Compared to when I gazed at the neon lights in Shinbashi and the night skies over Akasaka Kojimachi—moments when I felt I might lose my mind—I now find myself experiencing a clarity and deeply felt tranquility, a sense of belonging so profound it startles even me.
After all, it must be because I have returned to where I belong.

When I went to the back mountain cemetery, Mother’s new stone monument and sotoba stood there exactly as Elder Brother had described.
Given these circumstances, Elder Brother had undoubtedly committed various legal crimes.
Though I never discussed such matters with him even now, he must have spent money bribing doctors to create a false death certificate.
He must have invited village office clerks or police station staff to issue a fraudulent burial permit, deceived the villagers, and conducted a sham funeral for Mother.
After burying that coffin, he must have asked Sōgen-ji’s head priest to erect Mother’s grave.

To achieve this, he must have falsified the family register as well—so that while still alive, Mother may have been registered as deceased.
Since I am not an expert in that field, I do not know what crimes these constitute, but of course if discovered, the sanctions of national law would be unavoidable.
But Elder Brother is doing this to make me and Younger Brother happy.
Elder Brother bears no guilt.
Bearing the suffering alone to protect the lives of his younger brothers, he has no choice but to violate national law.

If there were any guilt to be found in Elder Brother, it would likely be nothing more than having forgotten that human happiness cannot be built upon deception and falsehoods.
How could I condemn this noble Elder Brother to punishment?
Through researching every possible method and exerting every last ounce of my strength, I intend to bear all the crimes that Elder Brother should rightfully carry.
Elder Brother has a wife and children.
Fortunately, I am single.
And until today, thanks to Elder Brother, I have not known suffering, while he has already endured far too much pain to ever be punished.

I have no religion, no faith, and no clear vision of the future.
But if—as people claim—when one dies there exists an afterlife, then and only then would I most joyfully, most earnestly ask you to marry me.
There I would wish to be called husband and to call you wife.
Now please live in happiness.

Goodbye.

The entire text concluded here, but let us once again revisit the scene of the notebook's discovery. Near where the body of the text ended, there were two instances of the French phrase "Se maîtriser avec amertume" written. Would it be appropriate to translate this as something along the lines of "to overcome oneself while weeping"? Though they appeared like unconscious doodles at first glance, upon closer examination one could clearly perceive the anguish of heart etched here.

Does it mean that even if one must clench their teeth, those compelled to give up should do so? Does it mean that a painful life must be endured even through tears? It strikes the human heart beyond words.

In any case, the notebook appeared, gnawed through and through, from beneath the stacked Christ biographies by Renan and Papini that had been piled under a dust-coated pillar in the plank-floored room.
Since its cover and corners had been chewed away and it was discovered caked in rat droppings, might someone have written it only to reconsider and refrain from sending it out?
Such conjecture was not without merit.

But according to newspaper reports, given that Ms. Reiko Nakagome was said to have recently committed a sudden and mysterious suicide, might she not have received some letter based on this notebook?
There was reason to imagine such a scenario.
In any case, since the protagonist of fate himself bore not the slightest criminal suspicion, those matters would have belonged to the realm of personal freedom that permitted no police investigation.

It was on the night of January 21st of this year—the first day of Major Cold, when heavy snow had been falling since morning—that the local Kashiwano Police Station dispatched a group of detectives, acting on numerous reports claiming mysterious fires occasionally leaked from the gate of supposedly uninhabited Sōgen-ji temple and human moans could be heard there.
As for the local police station, they had naturally assumed that a gambling dispute among nearby gamblers had resulted in injuries from blade wounds; however, when they raided the premises, both the protagonist and his sick mother were already lying side by side in death.

The protagonist was believed to have first made his sick mother swallow poison before ingesting it himself; their deaths were estimated to have occurred two days and nights prior.
The protagonist was said to have positioned himself in a T-shape relative to his sick mother, his left hand—clad in a leather vest—tentatively inserted under her armpit as if an infant fumbling in its mother's bosom, while she leaned halfway out from her futon, her collapsed hand resting against the young man's back in a posture of embrace.

Having died and been freed from illness, perhaps even her deranged mind had finally come to understand that her child had returned from far overseas.
In Nagashima of the Seto Inland Sea stood Aiseien for isolating leprosy patients; in Kusatsu and Kirishima too, national sanatoriums had been established for quarantine purposes.
That a man of such caliber—one who had served as Second Secretary at the French Embassy—should rush headlong into a parent-child suicide!
Though society’s so-called authorities might clamor with criticism, in this tradition-bound mountain village steeped in outmoded customs, moving this terminally ill patient would amount to personally exposing Elder Brother’s crimes with our own hands.

Yet if this sick mother—with so little time left to live—were to pass away, how should they handle someone whose funeral had already been conducted?
One would prefer that third parties refrain from carelessly discussing another’s death. Is this not the result of being driven to the brink again and again—thinking this way and that, unable to do anything at all—until even living becomes wearisome?
Such is what the author thinks.

In any case, the New Year had passed by then—had the village festival drawn near?
From the distant foothills came the sound of a clumsily played festival flute.
With all these dire circumstances in place, even the callous mountain detective was moved to tears by the mere sound of such a flute—as though death itself were beckoning—and with that final note, let us bring this tale to its close.