Pathway to Japanese Literature

Departure

The octagonal pillar clock that had been sent to the watchmaker for repairs was once again hanging on the pillar in the room and began to sound just as it had before. It was a clock that had been hanging on that very pillar for six years. It was under that clock that three years ago Aunt had died suddenly from postpartum hemorrhage.

The older sister Ose was out at the time, and the younger sister Oei was inside the disarrayed room sweeping with a broom in hand. The two children whom these sisters cared for—Uncle’s sons—were both boys, the younger of whom was called Bun-chan, a six-year-old at the height of mischief. Whenever Bun-chan brought friends in from outside, the room would always end up in disarray like this. As Oei was sweeping near the cupboard with the Buddhist altar, Uncle came down from the second floor.

“What have the children been up to?”

Uncle asked.
Uncle stood there with a tired expression, having just woken from a nap.

“They went out to play,” Oei answered calmly.

“And Ose?” Uncle asked again.

“Sister is visiting the grave.”

“To go out in such heat…” Uncle murmured half to himself, “I haven’t visited the grave myself in ages…”
At last he sighed.
In the room, everything from the chest of drawers in the corner to the boxes stacked atop it remained exactly as when Aunt had been alive.
The only changes were the walls repainted yellow—brightening the space slightly—and part of the narrow veranda garden converted into a wooden play area for the children.
The yatsude plants that had once pleased Aunt’s eye had nearly all withered under the children’s rough handling.
Only one sturdy stalk thrived still, putting forth fresh young leaves at the base of its trunk that year.
Uncle stepped onto the veranda, gazed at the leaves’ bluish sheen, then turned back toward Oei.

“Oh, the clock’s been fixed, hasn’t it?”

As he spoke, Uncle stood beneath the pillar for some time, gazing up at the newly polished clock as though beholding the face of an old friend. Around the two holes for hanging weights and extending to where the Roman numerals were drawn, there were worn and peeling marks, making it a clock that now had a face like an old woman’s. But even now, it still made this sound. Through the glass lid, the brass-colored pendulum remained visible, still quietly marking time.

“This clock has been with us for so long—since Aunt and I first set up our home together—you know. It’s the clock that old man Abe—Aunt’s father—went out of his way to buy and bring for us—you know.”

After speaking to Oei in this manner, Uncle soon washed his hands and feet at Nagarebata as was his habit and went back up to the second floor.

Ose's marriage was drawing steadily nearer.
While such thoughts rose in her heart, Oei tidied the room alone, then headed to the kitchen and began peeling potatoes left in the basket.

Around noon, Ose returned holding a Western umbrella with a slender handle and a bouquet of yellow roses.
Whenever she visited the grave, she would find Western-style flowers at the temple's nearby florist and bring them back.

"Oei, such lovely things as these."

Ose brought the souvenir roses right under her sister’s nose to show her.

Bun-chan, who had been resentful that Ose had gone out without the children, saw this and came in through the front entrance. And then he suddenly clung to Ose.
When Naga-chan—the older brother’s child—returned from school, no sooner had he thrown down his satchel there than he began pulling at Ose’s hands and clinging to her shoulders just like his younger brother.

“Oh please, both of you, stop clinging like that… Let Sister rest… It’s unbearably hot…”

When told that, the motherless children became even more clingy.

“Oei, Oei—I saw such a fine person on the train. From their hairstyle to their physique—”

With Ose’s youthful, cheerful laughter and the children’s commotion, the hushed house suddenly burst into liveliness.
Oei received the roses from her sister, placed half of them on the kitchen shelf, and put the other half into a small marble vase to take beside Aunt’s memorial tablet.

Day after day, countless times a day, Uncle would come down from the second floor to check on the children, worrying about them. Uncle buried his head into the area around the Buddhist altar, not particularly praying to it, but merely gazing at the memorial tablets with their gold leaf peeling away and the ledger thinly coated with dust, and remained desolate.

“So, was the grave kept clean, huh?” Uncle asked Ose while leaning against the Buddhist altar.

“Yes, it had been completely cleaned,” Ose answered.

“The grave must have grown old too, huh.”
“But you’ve been commendable about visiting.”
“Once you go far away like this, you won’t be able to visit for some time again.”

Ose stood silent.

“Three years would make it harsh, wouldn’t it?” Uncle smiled a lonely smile. “I’ve forgotten so much about Aunt—truth be told—that’s how it is—”

As if suddenly remembering, Ose said, “It was exactly a year ago today that I returned to this house.”

“Was that so…” Uncle responded.

“I was only at my mother’s side for half a year.
See, you sent a telegram from your place back then, didn’t you?
At that time, Mother seemed reluctant to let me go, but…”

“After all，thinking there was no use rotting away in that backwater countryside，I made arrangements to bring you out to Tokyo.”
“This is no time for dawdling—if we’re not careful，even Oei will miss her chance at marriage.”
“That’s why I jolted them with one good telegram.”
“Had you stayed out there all this time—who knows if this match would’ve reached you? A woman’s life… strange when you think on it，isn’t it?”

Uncle left the side of the Buddhist altar and went toward where the chest of drawers was placed.
He took out the kimonos Aunt had left behind from the top drawer and looked at them.

“Well then, shall I give you a keepsake?” said Uncle.

“As all of Aunt’s kimonos were being given away, they had gradually dwindled.”

“Oei, put this on,” Ose called to her sister.

At that time, Uncle distributed Aunt’s underrobes, undergarments, and other miscellaneous items to the sisters.

“By the way—what will you do about your wedding kimono?” said Uncle.
“The groom who was supposed to come at April’s end has been delayed by a month,” replied Ose.
“To alter a padded crested kimono into lined—and even that won’t be ready? What a predicament!”
“Damn—this is bad.”

“Let’s consult Aunt from Negishi as well.”
“It should likely be ready in time,” said Ose.

“But by the end of May it’ll be hot… Unlined kimonos would be better, most likely.” Oei interjected.

“Wait now. End of May, eh? I judged it manageable.”
“If it’s hot, we’ll just pick some cloudy day for the wedding.”
“Or call it a ‘sunny-day postponement’?”

This jest of Uncle’s made the sisters laugh.

A cool breeze came through from the kitchen area. Oei stepped outside the old bamboo blind and gazed at the lovely potted cineraria flowers while stroking their leaves. Those plants too were ones Ose had bought when visiting Aunt Negishi’s house earlier. Holding Naga-chan on her lap, Ose moved out to the wooden-floored kitchen space. The unfamiliar faces she had passed en route to her aunt’s grave…the varied backs of young people glimpsed through train windows…shadows hurrying across sun-baked streets…All these figures she had mentally compared—wondering if any might be him—merged with the harsh sunlight to dazzle her eyes. A wild yet girlish longing surged through her chest—as if she might cast herself into that light any moment. She felt her pounding heartbeat travel through to the child’s body held firmly against her.

“Naga-chan, shall I let you smell something nice?”

Oei came to the kitchen area, briefly sniffed the yellow rose on the shelf herself, then brought it to the child’s nose.

“Ah, what a lovely fragrance,” Naga-chan said, narrowing his eyes.

“What a little rascal,” Ose laughed and jostled the child she was holding.

“Even Naga-chan knows quality when he smells it,” Oei laughed too.

“Now that you mention it, I wonder what sort of clothes Brother will wear,” Oei added again.

Her younger sister pressed a plump, girlish hand over her breast through the kimono fabric and imagined together with her sister the groom soon to cross oceans from distant shores.

From the second floor where he had been thinking alone for three years, Uncle came down again.
Uncle went to the kitchen area, filled a metal basin with the cold water gushing from the faucet, and washed his face with it.

Uncle wiped his face repeatedly with a hand towel and turned toward the sisters nearby in the kitchen.

“Ah, ah… this feels somewhat refreshing… Today I thought I’d write a letter to Old Man Abe and report on how things are around me… Mrs. Oson—my late nephew’s wife—has finally come to Tokyo to marry into a family, and Ose too will soon become a bride… Everyone’s moving forward… Yet here I remain unchanged… And as I wrote such things, tears came—it was troubling…”

Having said this, Uncle stuck out his chest and let out a rough sigh alone.
Continuing his words,

“But I can still cry—when I realized that, it made me glad… which only made more tears flow… Today I cried until my cheeks burned crimson.”

“Truly.”

Ose peered into Uncle’s face.
Uncle was speaking with a laugh, but his cheeks were unusually swollen with tears.

In the narrow town, when they opened the front door wide to let the breeze through, the sun-reflected heat of the earthen road became visible through the bamboo blind. Near the kitchen, they set a meal tray where Uncle ate his lunch.

“This mustn’t go undone, that mustn’t go undone… I do properly understand what needs doing… But my mind keeps rushing ahead while my body won’t follow…”

While serving lunch, Ose laughed.

Bun-chan came and stood by Uncle’s side.
Uncle looked at that guileless expression,

“Bun-chan has really grown up, hasn’t he.”

“The kimono has gotten so short,” said Oei, who had been in the kitchen, also looking toward the child.

“You really ought to thank your aunties properly,” Uncle said to his children.

Suddenly, as if struck by a thought, Bun-chan went over to Ose and began rubbing his body against hers.

“You’re starting to fuss again.”
“No one was laughing.”
“You’ve grown so much—isn’t that something everyone will praise?”

Ose placed the child on her lap.

“When you were a child, Ose, I once visited your house. Do you remember?”

“I certainly do remember.”

“How old would you have been then? You were about Naga-chan’s age now, weren’t you?”

“I must have been a bit bigger than Naga-chan.”

“After all, this was back when your grandfather was still hale and hearty… when he used to stroke that thin beard… when he’d say, ‘Let me treat you to something you like—I’ve drawn a bath, so get in’… Back then, you still wore your hair down, and now that very girl is off to become a bride.”

Every time stories about the old gentleman—respected by many—came up, Ose felt a kind of pride unknown to her school friends and the like.

The talk of family matters was drawn out from one topic to the next.
The Ose sisters, at their uncle’s side, eagerly discussed their father and mother, an elderly woman, and rumors about their youngest brother—not much different in age from the uncle’s children.

“But you’re still all right,” said Uncle.
“Look at your uncle.
“Uncle parted with his father at thirteen.”
“The time I spent living quietly with Mother was barely two years.”
“Even during those two years—nothing but hardships… When I think of that—you’re fortunate… After all—your parents still stand strong…”

“Really, this clock is always slow—Oei, could you go to the fishmonger and ask?”

Told by her sister, the younger sister went to inquire at the fishmonger across the house.

After obtaining the correct time from the fishmonger’s proprietor who had been preparing sashimi at the shopfront, Oei stood beneath the aged clock and attempted to adjust the long hand.
The clerk from the fabric store entered.
Having heard this, Uncle also came to the lower room and had them show him women’s garments suitable for brief outings.
The clerk took out silk fabrics, obi fabrics wrapped in turmeric-dyed cloth, and other items before everyone.

“Ose, which one do you like?”

“Any of them…”

Uncle took out only subdued fabrics that seemed to his liking.
Oei was also at her sister’s side, evaluating whether this one or that one together.

The clerk took out even material suitable for haori linings there.

“Ose would like this one.”

Uncle said in a teasing tone and chose a strange red lining before everyone.
Even the clerk laughed.
Overwhelmed by Uncle’s teasing remarks, Ose fled alone to the next room.

“Sister, why don’t you just choose for yourself—don’t stay there.”

Oei comforted her sister.

Ose regained her composure and returned to where Uncle and the clerk were idly waiting.
At that moment, Ose took a cream-colored lining with a pattern.
The younger sister also agreed to that choice.

After the clerk left, Uncle pushed the purchased items in front of Ose.

“There is nothing from Uncle to give as a congratulatory gift.”
“I’ll make this your congratulatory gift.”
“You’ve looked after the children in so many ways.”

Having said that, Uncle gave a light bow.

The Aunt from Negishi also came to visit Ose out of concern.
The meticulous aunt had carefully prepared everything from the pale crested kimono for the wedding ceremony to the white layered undergarment and nagajuban, sewing them all with care.

“We’d like to celebrate you properly too, Ose… Please do tell us if there’s anything you might need… Should we make something like a crested haori, or perhaps an unlined kimono would be better now that summer’s approaching?”

While such talk was going on, Uncle also joined in, and various planning discussions began.
Stories about when the Aunt from Negishi got married also mixed into the conversation.
The aunt’s frank confession made Uncle laugh.

“When you get right down to it, a girl before her wedding is like someone half-sick, you know,” Uncle began.

The Aunt from Negishi nodded. “Everyone is like that. It’s strange, but once they marry, most people grow quite robust.”

Her tone seemed weighted with countless experiences.

“If even our late Aunt were here now”—this was not merely Uncle’s habitual refrain—Ose felt the truth of it pierce her own heart.
The motherless children paid no mind to such solemn moments, calling out instead, “Miss Ose! Miss Ose!”

they would say and cling on.
Especially Bun-chan, the younger one, was at that unreasonable age; once he started whining and carrying on, he wouldn’t stop crying easily.

When the Aunt from Negishi left, the child’s piercing cry rose again.
Oei’s gentle attempts to soothe him went unheeded.
In the end, Oei brushed off Bun-chan’s hands desperately clinging to her sleeves and fled through one room after another.

“Won’t the kimono tear to shreds like this?”

Oei hid among the yatsude plants in the garden, pressing her sleeves to her face as she wept.

Unable to bear this scene any longer, Ose rose from her half-sewn kimono, leaving it as it was.
This time, Bun-chan came toward Ose.
His face flushed crimson, the veins on his neck standing out as if in anger.
Ose found herself utterly worn out by this child’s unreasonableness.

“Why must you be so unreasonable?”

Ose hugged the child tightly and began crying along with him.

Suddenly，Uncle came running down from the second floor.
When Ose saw Uncle’s expression，she tried to hide the child with her sleeve，

“He won’t cry anymore，so please do look upon us kindly.”

Ose apologized on behalf of the child.

Bun-chan clung to Ose all the more when he felt frightened or，failing that，when Uncle scolded him harshly.
“He must be sleepy now—that’s why he’s whining and fussing like this.”
It was then that Ose noticed and let him rest his head on her lap；as she did so，the child gradually began to close his eyes while hiccuping through his tears.

“Now be good and take your nap.”
“I’ll lie down with you for sleepy-time, all right?”

Oei tactfully spread the child’s bedding beside the chest of drawers.
There, Ose carried Bun-chan over.
This strong-willed child couldn’t fall asleep unless held by Sister.
And while half-asleep, he searched Ose’s bosom as if seeking his mother.

“Oh my, you have such cold feet like this?”

Ose said this and stroked the child’s head, but Bun-chan still occasionally let out hiccuping sobs.
When Ose pressed his small feet against her own skin to warm them, the child’s sleeping face bore such loveliness that one could hardly believe this was the same Bun-chan who had just moments before been stamping his feet in rage, kicking doors, and crying violently.
After gazing at the child who had fallen into a peaceful sleep, Ose stealthily left Bun-chan’s side.
So as not to wake him.

Day by day, the yatsude plant in the garden spread its leaves ever wider. Near the deep eaves through which its leaves could be seen, the aunt’s memento sewing board had been placed. Ose resumed her sewing. Oei came to her side too, and the sisters spoke of how their days living together were dwindling.

There were also nights that were oppressively humid.

Startled by the high-pitched flute of a street vendor—so shrill she mistook it for a bird’s cry—Ose awoke beside Bun-chan. When she realized the sound she had heard in her troubled half-dream state came from a Chinese soba vendor selling his wares, she understood how late the night had grown. The two children lay like dolls arranged in a row, their forms nearly vanished into the darkness. Oei too lay exhausted beside them, still not having changed into her nightclothes. The smell of sweat-dampened hair lingered in the air. The room felt oppressively heavy.

The pale moonlight reflected on the town's white walls and dark green leaves seemed to float into Ose's eyes—it must have been an early May evening. She remembered receiving the letter on that unforgettable night announcing that her groom would finally come. She remembered how her entire life had truly been decided in that single night. She recalled how the two sisters had stayed awake through that evening. While lying with the children, Ose dwelled on these memories and grew drowsy again. Suddenly, there appeared before her eyes the face of her grandmother—who should never have been in such a place.

“Oei… Oei…”

Ose called her sister with labored breathing as if she might faint.
When Oei woke with a start and looked around, her sister lay prostrate on the floor, trembling.

“Uncle, could you please come here for a moment? Because Sister has had a spell.”
Oei went to the base of the stairs and called out.

Uncle also came down. While stroking her sister’s back, Oei told him, “She says our grandmother’s face suddenly appeared right there…”

“Someone from home showing up at your bedside—ridiculous—pull yourself together!” Uncle scolded.

“But there’s nothing I could do,” Ose answered weakly, still lying prostrate.

The terror that came in an instant seized even Uncle’s heart.
Uncle forced a laugh as if to encourage his daughters, but even he was somewhat flustered.
Uncle brought medicine and water and urged Ose.

“Oei, that’s enough—thank you,” Ose said to her sister behind her, then lay down.
“Ah, it was awful… When Grandmother’s face appeared, suddenly my whole body shuddered…”

“You two truly surprise me at times.” Having dismissed them with these words, Uncle began ascending the stairs step by step.

The vision vanished. Yet a cold shudder still lingered in Ose’s body. Her feet had turned to ice. Pressing her forehead against the pillowcase beside the oblivious sleeping child, she finally regained her senses. She wished her husband would come quickly to take her far away—to steady this fragile self that swung between feverishness and chills.

"The time remaining at Uncle’s house had now grown short."

"When Uncle’s stories began to surface after meals, Ose’s marriage too was drawing near."

Father had hurriedly come to Tokyo.
Father came to visit Uncle’s house from the inn where he was staying.
When Ose received the hat and Inverness cape from Father’s hands, her hair had been arranged in a Shimada coiffure.

“Ose—show your father what he prepared for you. You should also present the congratulatory gifts from everyone.”

Uncle too came to where his daughters and their children were gathered and added his instructions.

The wedding preparations were nearly complete.
Even just the fashionable pale pink obi-jime cord—the one the Aunt from Negishi had chosen for Ose—was enough to make her sister envious.
Ose laid out before Father the ceremonially wrapped gifts from various sources—this from the Aunt from Negishi, that from Uncle’s close acquaintances—and took out the specially congratulatory obi from the Aunt from Negishi to show him.

After discussing various matters with Uncle, Father began to rise from where he was seated,

“Well then, I’ll stop by the matchmaker’s now and check on the arrangements for the wedding venue—since I came out this time specifically for that purpose, I’ll visit Negishi too if I can.”
“I’ll come back again.”

Father's speech was always concise and clear.

On the day the groom arrived at Shinbashi Station, Father came to visit again in what appeared to be welcoming attire—formal haori and hakama—bringing that news with him. Father and Uncle went up to the second floor together and waited for Aunt from Negishi, who had come for discussions. Father’s loud voice could be heard from downstairs. “When I first met Suzuki—the groom—I’d thought he was still a student, but seeing him this time… why, he’s become quite impressive…” Stories that the sisters could not help but hear kept coming one after another. “The parents were first smitten—he’s such a man that they’d offer their own daughter…”

The Aunt from Negishi also appeared.
The Aunt had a rest downstairs, instructed Ose on bridal matters, then went to join Father and the others in their discussion while holding a lady’s tobacco pouch.

Midway through the conversation, Uncle came downstairs briefly.

“Where are the children?”

He looked around the room.

“I’ve just asked Father to tell the groom not to visit my place until after the ceremony—it’d be odd for you to answer the door there as the bride now.”

After standing there discussing such matters with them all—laughing together with his nieces—he went back upstairs to resume their discussions.

Father showed his face briefly the following day as well.
“According to Suzuki, Western-style meals have sixfold etiquette when done formally.
Since the matchmaker is a proper matchmaker, they’ll be laughed at for clumsy mistakes.
Who sits next to whom, who faces whom—when it comes to that, it’s downright troublesome.
I’d still rather request Japanese cuisine instead, I tell you.”

“That does make sense.
One from the true source would indeed think so.”

Amid the commotion, Father and Uncle exchanged words.

“Then I’ll leave Mr. Kotokiwa’s side to you.”
“Once the ceremony is over, have the newlyweds take photos and send them straight to the restaurant.”
“All right then.”

With that, Father left.

On the eve before the wedding celebration at long last arrived, Uncle’s household held a small farewell meal for Ose.
The children kept coming back and would not leave Ose’s side.

“Bun-chan—stop that! You mustn’t put your hands into Sister’s kimono like that.” Ose scolded him demonstratively and adjusted her collar.
“Really now—Bun-chan isn’t behaving like a child at all.”

“You’re no child anymore.”
“Neither child nor adult—a strange half-grown thing,” teased Oei from beside them.

“Fussing again,” Ose said as she scooped up the child and hugged him tightly with her haori sleeves. “Is being called an in-between thing so upsetting to you? Then be good now. There, that tickles—stop it—sōmen—stewed noodles—grated daikon!”

Naga-chan, the elder brother, had been said to have suddenly become more grown-up since starting school, but somehow that day he wore a wilted expression and clung to Ose from behind.

“Naga-chan, you mustn’t cling to people like this—no—no—look here, your hair will get tousled, won’t it?”

Ose worried about her important Shimada hairstyle.
Then Naga-chan brought his face close and suddenly pretended to kiss Sister’s forehead.

“Cheeky.”

With that, Ose laughed together with her sister but returned a light kiss to the child’s cheek.
Bun-chan leaned against her knee, listening to the sound of Sister’s lips.

On the Buddhist altar, an oil lamp was lit, its light reflected on the flowers. Some prepared offerings had been placed there as well. Uncle came through the garden entrance, passed before the altar, and joined everyone where they were gathered.

“How about it—is it all right for Sister to go off and become a bride?”

Uncle said to the children.

Ose wore an expression that seemed to say leaving them behind would be pitiable,

“Uncle, please don’t say such things.”

“Even if she goes, it’s all right.”

Bun-chan stuck out his lower lip.

"When the one who indulges them is gone, this will be a bit of a problem, I suppose."

Uncle said as if talking to himself.

For Ose, small errands remained to be done.
The sisters' daughters waited for the children to fall asleep.
That evening, Uncle, unusually, sat for a long time in the downstairs room and talked about preparations for the following day.

“Uncle is quite busy too.”
“I have to take on Aunt’s share too, you know.”

Uncle laughed.

“Now you’re a man, now you’re a woman,” Oei chimed in from the side.

“We still need various things.”
“We should prepare things like face powder as well.”

“It’s funny how he knows about such things,” Ose said to her sister.

“Even Uncle knows about face powder and such—”

Uncle had just been making such jests when he abruptly changed his tone and turned to Ose.

“How about leaving some of the things you received at Oei’s place too?”

“Since they say I’m too much of a people-pleaser… this time I won’t leave anything behind.”

Ose was resolute.
She needed to take as many as she could and begin a new life with her husband.
To speak plainly, she had no room to involve herself with her sister’s matters.

“The one who’s leaving should go briskly.”

Uncle’s tone gradually shifted into something resembling parting words.

An elderly neighborhood female hairdresser arrived.

The day of celebration arrived.
That day, even Aunt from Negishi came dressed in a formal crested kimono to assist the bride.
Aunt from Negishi took pride in having Ose wear the wedding kimono she herself had sewn.

"Bun-chan, stop that! Don't tug on my obi like that," said Ose as she trailed the long hem of her kimono.

"You're going off as a bride, hey!
Hey!"

With a comical tone, Bun-chan pointed at Sister and made everyone laugh.

“Can you sit properly in that kimono?”

Uncle came hurriedly to inspect where Ose had made her preparations and said.
The ceremonial robes Uncle himself was wearing had existed since his marriage to the aunt who had passed away fifteen years prior.
Ose stepped over the threshold of Uncle’s house with everyone, her heart stretched taut.

A carriage stopped in the narrow town where the children were playing.
The groom, in a newly tailored Western-style frock coat, and the bride, her hair adorned with an ornate comb, alighted together from the carriage.
The newlyweds paid their courtesy visits around various places the day after their wedding and came to Uncle’s house around one o’clock in the afternoon.

“Naga-chan.”

When Ose alighted from the carriage, she immediately called out to the children.

“This is Bun-chan, you see.”

The groom, already knowing the children’s names from having heard them, stepped through the gate holding his overcoat in one hand and taking a child’s hand in the other.

Through a telephone call Ose had made from the inn to her sister, those at Uncle’s place had been waiting as the lavish eel rice grew cold.
The groom’s souvenirs from abroad were also brought out there.
Uncle guided the newlyweds to the tidied-up second floor and there first served lunch to the hungry people.
A conversation as if they were people who had been associated for ten years began between Uncle and the groom.

“Bun-chan, do you want some too?”
“Even if they’re leftovers, since they’re Sister’s, please eat them.”

Ose took her leftovers and joined her sister and the children in the lower room.

“What a splendid husband you have.”

To the elder sister, this single remark from her younger sister brought more joy than any celebration could have.

Upstairs, the conversation was lively, but with still needing to visit Aunt from Negishi’s place and yet another house for formal visits, Ose began to grow anxious by the end.

“If we go by rickshaw, there would be the hassle of changing pullers midway, and there’s simply no way to get around all of Tokyo in a single day.”
“A carriage would instead be simpler.”
“That’s why I went ahead and borrowed one.”

The groom spoke of what seemed like his hardships abroad and, coming downstairs with Uncle, engaged in various conversations.

“Naga-chan, shall we go together by carriage?”

Unlike young men who kept themselves secluded inland, there was an unflustered ease in the groom’s manner of speaking.

Ose took her husband’s overcoat and boarded the carriage.

“Bun-chan, I’ll come back again.”

As she leaned out from the carriage hood to look at the children, it began moving.

For the next four or five days, Ose spent her newlywed trip with her groom, stayed at his family home, then returned once more to Tokyo.
He was no longer just the groom.
He had become the husband.
The husband had grown so busy with occupational demands that he now had to depart from one journey straight into another.
Thus, during his approximately month-long absence, Ose was to stay at her uncle’s house.
On the day her husband set off alone on his distant journey, she moved from the inn to her sister’s side.
The newlywed husband was once again busy preparing for departure.
Even when departing, he did so from Uncle’s house.

“It’s almost as if Uncle’s place has become your home.”

Uncle spoke to Ose and Oei and laughed.

Ose, who had returned as a new wife, somehow carried herself with a more mature air.
Moreover, her taut nerves still showed no sign of easing—there were houses she had to visit on her husband’s behalf, errands entrusted to her, and the number of letters she needed to write had grown.
She had gained new parents, a younger brother, a younger sister.

When Father, staying at the inn, came to inquire about matters at Suzuki’s household, Ose described the scene of a large household in the countryside in a cheerful tone reminiscent of Uncle’s mother—her grandfather’s sister.

“Oei, what’s got you so lost in thought, huh—”

One day, Uncle came to the kitchen and said.
Ose was not out.

“Isn’t it about Sister?” Uncle said again, standing there.
“Sister’s changed too.”

“They say everyone changes when they become a bride,” Oei replied, “but I never thought she would change so suddenly.”

“It can’t be helped—Sister isn’t your sister anymore; she’s now her husband’s sister. She can’t stay nestled in her younger sister’s embrace forever.”

Uncle went and stood before the rat-proof container placed near the kitchen.

“I’ll put the money here.”

He placed the monthly accounts on top of it.

“Taking in a woman who’d once married out was my blunder.”
“By all means, Ose belongs with Suzuki.”

Uncle had said this, but as the sudden upheaval—born of her new marriage—gradually subsided and her taut nerves relaxed, Ose regained her usual composure. After all, Ose was Ose. Somehow she had grown more easygoing. Not only that, but she had come to truly discern the various women around her—those she had half-heartedly mingled with during her restless school days; nameless passersby who daily traversed before her uncle’s house; figures known only through hearsay; and others of all sorts. For instance: friends persisting from schooldays; one who had come from the countryside for convalescence; another left alone tending an infant after an adopted son’s departure; yet another still unmarried while attending nagauta lessons; one employed at a doctor’s household who walked through town with dignity—

From her husband, who had set off on a distant journey, letters began arriving frequently once he was underway.
A letter sent around June 20th stated that due to raging seas and thick fog, he remained stranded at the same port, still unable to reach his intended destination.
Ose found the wait interminable—even when she glimpsed the foreign-made suitcase her husband had left at her uncle’s house.
She went to inspect the front garden entrance.
The yatsude leaves had grown broad as unfurled umbrellas.
Through the open garden gate, she could see directly across to the fishmonger’s shopfront.
A sudden summer rain swept over the parched town where salmon hung drying.

The wooden-sided houses grew wet before one's eyes.
The windows facing the street, the doors, the eaves, and the thoroughly dried tiled roofs.
Ose stood there for a while, vacantly watching the face of the fishmonger’s apprentice as he stood with his arms crossed, while thinking of her husband on his journey.
The smell of rain-beaten dust permeated even into the rooms.
When she turned back and went to the kitchen area, Uncle was watching the rain by the sink, and Naga-chan brought out drawing paper and colored pencils to the wooden floor and was busily drawing something childish.
Oei had just brought in the potted plants.

“I hear Mr. Suzuki is still staying at the inn—if it was going to take that long, I should’ve introduced him to your aunt’s family,” said Uncle.

“Truly,” Ose replied with a look that seemed to envision it.

Oei placed the pot she held before her sister.
Uncle glanced toward it,

“What’s that poppy-lookin’ thing you’ve got there.
“Uncle forgets no matter how many times y’tell him.”

“Isn’t that an anemone?” Ose laughed.

“Hmph—anemone then.
“You all still manage t’know such fancy names.”

“Can’t even remember flower names—right, Oei?”

“Uncle, look at this. Doesn’t it have a sweet, camellia-like fragrance?” Oei said, bringing over a pot with blooming tulips to show him.

“Now that you mention it,” Uncle said while washing his hands at the water faucet, “whatever became of that little girl who used to come to the fishmonger’s? She’d often come to you all to have her hair done.”
“It’s like my house has turned into a kindergarten.”
“But that kind of girl is a bit unusual.”
“Even though everyone dislikes her, she’s under the delusion that she’s actually the most cherished one.”
“There are indeed such people sometimes.”
“Compared to that, Mr. Suzuki here—young as he is—has got sense in him.”

Ose started to say something, but suddenly Naga-chan interrupted her.

“Quiet! Quiet! Who’s stronger—the school teacher or the general?”

The daughters were worn down by this child’s “Who’s stronger?”

“Your husband is someone I can actually talk to,” Uncle said again to Ose.

“Well then, when he comes back next time, I’ll tell him—‘Uncle was praising you,’ I’ll say.”

“But really—having to send someone off to some faraway place right after their wedding? Cruel business they call official duty.”

“Quiet!” Naga-chan cut in, preventing his sister from speaking.

“Who’s stronger—the policeman or the soldier?”

“Both,” Ose answered helplessly.

The rain let up.
Bun-chan entered through the front entrance holding up an umbrella together with the little girl from the neighboring house.

After Ose was entrusted to this house for the second time, Uncle rarely let her hold the children.

“Leave them be—leave them be—if we don’t get them used to playing alone, those who come after will have trouble.”

Every time Uncle told her that, Ose would have the child without news sit on her lap and tear up.

After the elderly maid from the countryside they had long sought for Uncle’s household arrived and began working in the kitchen, Ose grew increasingly cheerful.
Lively laughter never ceased.
The maid—who had boasted of her robust constitution—had initially looked down somewhat on the sisters when she first came, but when she discovered these young women could steadily make even delicate garments entirely by themselves, she stared wide-eyed in astonishment.
Ose, skilled at sewing, made most things herself.
Compared to before, she now wore clothes that were at least new and suited to her taste, if not exactly fine.
Since becoming a wife, she had made quite a few kimonos.
Her younger sister still had to remain in simple unmarried women’s clothing…

“I understand perfectly well why Oei sometimes sleeps or does things like that.”

When Ose said this, Uncle replied,

“We’re living people, after all—such things happen.”

Having said that, he didn’t pursue the matter further.

When she calculated how her husband’s trip had been extended by nearly three weeks along the way, Ose found herself having to look after her uncle’s household until around the end of July.
She waited for her husband’s return, and on days so sweltering they became unbearable, she would lie down taking turns with her sister.

“Oei, where’s Uncle?”
“He’s on the boat.”

It was a certain morning after July began.
The sisters talked while using the wash area.
Oei squatted before the water faucet, washing her just-awoken face with cold, soft water.
Ose stood with her hands wrapped behind her neck, combing her hair with a slender boxwood comb.
A small window was cut into the boundary between the storeroom doorway and a single pillar, and beyond it sat a washbasin.
Ose went to the small window still wearing her kitchen sandals.
Through back streets where fig branches, lacquer leaves, and tenement roofs tangled chaotically, scale-shaped clouds tinged with morning light could be seen.

When the sun began to shine on the bamboo screen at the kitchen entrance, Uncle returned from rowing with a sweaty face.

“This morning’s Sumida River was just like a lake.”
“It was truly a wonderful feeling.”

Uncle said as he hung on the wall the summer hat he had been wearing when he entered the room.

“How was the boat?”

After greeting Oei who had called out from the kitchen area, Uncle paced about here and there under the clock and before the Buddhist altar in an uncharacteristically lively manner.

“When you go out to the middle of the river—it’s splendid.”
“It doesn’t feel like city air at all.”

Having told this to Oei, Uncle let out a rough breath.

That Uncle—who had been sitting upstairs day after day doing nothing but thinking—had now become someone who would row boats pleased the sisters.
Ose brewed tea before breakfast and offered it to her tea-loving uncle.

“If there’s such good exercise to be had, I should’ve realized it sooner.”
“Barbarians act out of necessity.”
“I’m one of those too… When there was no recourse left for Nayou or Koyou, that’s why I started… At this rate, even Uncle here won’t be dying anytime soon.”

“He doesn’t look like he’s about to die at all—right, Oei?” said Ose in a slightly sarcastic tone.

“It’s truly not idle talk.”
“There’s something to this, you know—if you want to rouse your spirit, first rouse your body.”
“That’s it,” Uncle said, earnestly gazing at the sisters’ faces.

“Why would a little stroll do any good… You’re just walking while thinking… It’s not exercise at all… But rowing’s different—ah, when a sailboat comes from the other way, you have to think about not colliding with it… And above all, being near the river is best.”
“No matter how good the exercise is, it’s no use if it’s not nearby.”

Oei brought the breakfast tray there.
The older sister scooped rice and served it, and the younger sister placed the miso soup on the tray.

That morning found Uncle sitting upright before his breakfast tray, beginning to eat his rice only to start talking again.

"Well now—these past six months—what have I been doing... Hah... There were days I sat dazed and alone for ten, fifteen days straight—yet still told myself I was achieving something... There's talk of life's flame—but your uncle here has known life's ice."
"Ice of Life—Oei? What say you? Catch your uncle's wordplay?"

The sisters exchanged glances and silently traded smiles.

Naga-chan came rushing in through the front entrance.
Bun-chan was also brought by the old servant woman.

“Where have you been?
Come on—let’s eat.”

Uncle said.

“Papa, the boat—” Naga-chan went to Uncle’s side and pressed himself against him.

"Please take us along again next time."

"Uncle, please take us along once too."

Oei requested.

"If you won’t take us along, then we’ll just follow you—right, Oei?"
"Uncle, you’ve been promising for three whole years now and still haven’t treated us to a boat even once."

Ose added coaxingly, as if making a playful demand.

From Uncle’s house to where the boat rental stood was no more than two chō if one cut through the back alleys.
Just hearing the crows crying as they passed over the roof made one feel they lived close to the river.

Early the next morning, the sisters prepared themselves, had the children change into unlined kimonos, entrusted the house to the old servant woman, and left home while the chill still lingered.
Naga-chan, who knew the shortcut well, walked briskly ahead with determined steps.
When they had all gathered at the riverbank, a child playing nearby spotted Naga-chan and called out.

“Naga-chan even comes to places like this to play.”

Ose said to her sister.

The child from the boat rental that Uncle often frequented was a student in the upper grade at the same school as Naga-chan.
That morning saw relatively high waves; after being rocked on the water for about an hour and returning ashore, everyone's clothes grew somewhat clammy from the sea breeze.
The sisters, holding the children’s hands, returned home by winding through the town where houses still had their doors closed.

“Ah… I’m exhausted.”

With just that remark, Ose went up to the room and immediately leaned against a pillar without even changing clothes, while Oei, looking utterly drained, stretched her legs out toward the corner. Both of them did nothing but sigh.

"Is everyone really that exhausted?"

Uncle laughed upon seeing the state of the two of them.

"But the boat rocked so much—I thought you’d be better at it, Uncle," Ose said, throwing herself down there.

“Well now, there was wind this morning,” said Uncle. “We were battered by it the whole time. Those waves were unbearable.”

“But that lad rowed well, didn’t he?” Oei remarked, looking thoroughly exhausted as she drew a breath up to her shoulders.

“When the lad rowed, it didn’t rock much.”

“Hmm, I wonder...”
“I suppose everyone’s had their fill of Uncle’s rowing,” said Uncle, scratching his head.

While the sisters still wore expressions as if being rocked by the boat, Naga-chan brought out a desk from near the tokonoma.
He flipped it over in the middle of the room and immediately began mimicking rowing a boat.
The hemp summer futon became a substitute for the straw matting.
The little boatman on the tatami tied a long measuring stick to the fan rack and used it to fashion the shape of an oar.

Suzuki, who had written in a letter to Uncle that he would likely return to Tokyo around August 6th, suddenly sent a telegram at July's end.
Through that telegram, they learned he was already partway back.
Ose went out together with her sister to meet him at Ueno Station.
About a week earlier than their eagerly awaited day, they were able to meet the person who had returned from a distant journey.
Her husband was not particularly sunburned and remained as energetic as ever; on the evening he arrived in Tokyo, he went from the inn to escort Oei back to Uncle's house and talked with Uncle until around ten o'clock at night.

After moving back to the inn with her husband, Ose now found herself suddenly busy with their own genuine travel preparations and shopping.
Even amid this, she stopped by Uncle’s house to see her younger sister,

“Brother went shopping again without realizing it was Aunt’s family home.”
“Three times already.”
“Something about there being a modern girl there—Kanetoke-san (Aunt’s niece), you know.”

After having such conversations, she would turn back and return there again.

One day she stopped by to have her hair done.
Beside her willful sister,Ose tried to pass the brief time until the hairdresser arrived.

“Oei forgive me—I’ll just lie down for a bit.What with being exhausted and sleepy—”
“‘You have no backbone,’ I was laughed at by Brother.”

On the day before finally departing for a distant place, she did come to her sister’s house, but she never managed to speak properly about things.

Father ended up staying at the inn all summer and said he would see off the newlyweds as they departed.
Even when Ose and her husband were to leave Tokyo, it was decided they would depart from Uncle’s house.

“Sending off even a single person is no easy task at all.”

And Uncle came down from the second floor and spoke to the hairdresser who had come to style Ose’s hair into a marumage.

On the deep, freshly repainted yellow wall of the tokonoma, Naga-chan had covered every inch with pencil drawings—great waves, boats, and boatmen with strange, twisted faces.
Beside them, her husband waited for Ose’s marumage—the traditional bridal chignon—to be completed,

“The place I’m going to now—even though it’s a foreign country—is an extremely monotonous, utterly lonely-feeling place.
“It’s the kind of place where you can’t endure without some sort of religion.”

Large eyes glowing with youth conveyed what words could not.

“Religion, you say?” Uncle responded.

“Well, I seek peace in my own religion—something like ‘other-power,’ you might say.”
Thus the husband answered.

In Negishi, it was said that both Aunt and Sister would see them off at the station.
At Uncle’s house, only Uncle himself would remain behind, while all the others had decided to go see them off.
They prepared down to the maid.

Ose’s hair was styled in a manner befitting a young wife.

“Bun-chan, let me hold you one more time.”
Having said that, she picked up the younger child, then tried to hold Naga-chan as well.
“Truly, both of you have grown so big.”
When Ose repeated this, Naga-chan wrinkled his nose and put on a thoroughly delighted expression.
“Does being told you’ve grown make you that happy?”
Oei, who was also by her side, said.
The rickshaw puller they had arranged for arrived and began methodically carrying the luggage and such.