Pathway to Japanese Literature

Characters

Man with Glasses

Man with Bandages

The railway embankment—below it lay a small open space that appeared to be a lumber storage area, with black damp soil and trampled weeds scattered across patches of ground.

In the distance, a red signal light.

The moon must be out somewhere.

A man with glasses—appearing to be in his mid-twenties—sat pensively on a stack of lumber.
He was lost in thought.

He sighed. He blew his nose.
He removed the glasses and wiped them.
He plucked at his hair.
He crossed his arms.
He smoothed out the wrinkles in his clothes.
He stuck out his tongue.

The man with bandages appeared.
His entire face was wrapped in bandages, with only his eyes, nostrils, and mouth left exposed.

He paced back and forth before the man with glasses.
He seemed almost unaware of the other's presence.
He climbed the embankment only to immediately descend again.

Glasses: "You there—the railway crossing is further ahead."

Bandaged Man: (without particular surprise) "Is that so."
"Further ahead, you say?"
(Muttering to himself) "Further ahead..." (He sat down beside the man with glasses.)

“Are you heading somewhere?”

“I intend to go through with it. Are you bound somewhere yourself?”

“I’m still deliberating whether to commit or not.”

Bandaged Man: “I see.”
“Going through with it is all well and good—but what do you think?”
“Do you think one can manage it neatly—in one go?”

Glasses: “Well—without going through with it properly—I couldn’t say.”

(A long silence)

Bandages: "What do you think—around here, this must be the spot after all, no?"

“Well… I suppose this would be about the right spot.”

Bandages: “There’s no reason to hesitate… yet here I am, wavering.”

Glasses: “It’s because we overthink things.”
“That’s precisely why—when there’s truly no way out.”

Bandages: “Though I may appear this way, I’m a man who detests sentimentality.”
“I haven’t left a single note.”
“And the reason itself is perfectly clear—this whole matter is thoroughly prosaic, you see.”

Glasses: “No—in that regard, I’m exactly the same.”
“Well—others might choose different paths, but ultimately, an unhealed wound stays unhealed.”

Bandages: “I don’t quite grasp what you’re saying—but setting that aside, I’m not trying to solve any problem through death. I’m merely disposing of this corpse-like body myself.”
“Therefore, there’s absolutely no need—now of all times—to fashion this moment into some tragic narrative through heroic resolve or unrealistic fantasies.”

Glasses: “That’s precisely what I’m saying.”
“I’m just a coward through and through.”
“Life’s discarded scrap.”
“Fate’s plaything.”
“It’s because I think that way that…”

“No—no—you don’t understand at all.”
“That’s it—exactly as it should be.”
“You may say that, but isn’t this just a momentary impulse?”
“Being dumped by a lover... embezzling company funds... accidentally killing someone...”

Glasses: Ha ha ha ha.
"Does it seem that way to you?"
"No—I'll say nothing more."
"To have human suffering—the agony of one man—brushed aside so casually... It's unbearable."

“Am I mistaken?”
“Well, if that’s how it is, then so be it.”
“There’s no need to obsess over the mere fact that we coincidentally chose the same place to die and happened to meet here at the same time.”
“Please—don’t concern yourself with me…”

“Oh no—it’s you who should go ahead...”
“However, I’m still a living, breathing human being.”
“It’s rather inconvenient having you act so self-indulgently right before my eyes.”
“The railway crossing isn’t that far either.”
“How about this?”
“Shall we call someone?”

“Call someone...”
“What would calling someone accomplish?”
(Pause) “Shall we cease this persistent interference?”

“Despite appearances, I happen to be someone who thinks more deeply than most about things,” said Glasses. “Being labeled reckless or foolhardy—that’s what I find most unbearable.”

Bandages tilted his head slightly. “Ah, so that’s your angle. Very well then—shall we formally inquire about this ‘reason’ of yours?”

“I could certainly share my story,” Glasses replied, adjusting his spectacles. “But more importantly—what about you? You don’t seem burdened by particularly profound circumstances yourself…”

“Does it appear that way?” Bandages’ bandages shifted with his dry chuckle. “If you say so, I’ve no objections.” His laughter sharpened suddenly. “Ha ha ha—can’t you read what these bandages signify?”

“Did you suffer burns or something?”

Bandages: "To think you'd mention these bandages so casually..."
"Well, let's drop it."

Glasses: "There's actually a really effective medicine for burns, you know."

Bandages: "If they're burns, then let them stay burns."
"What happens if they heal?"

Glasses: "What's wrong with that?"

Bandages: "Even if my whole face develops spasms..."
"Even if my face becomes something nobody could stand to look at twice..."

Glasses: "And your occupation?"

Bandages: "I'm no businessman."
"I conduct applied chemistry research—in other words, I'm a scholar."
"I'd devoted myself to inventing artificial diamonds."
"The project was ninety-nine percent complete."
"But then—due to a minor miscalculation—the chemicals exploded."

“In that case, isn’t that all the more reason? Since you’ve gone to the trouble of completing ninety-nine percent of it, if you continue with that research, there’s no reason you couldn’t finish it. It’s about your face. Your manly bearing. Fundamentally, someone engaged in work like yours should rather—”

“Now, wait a moment. Even like this, I remain unmarried.”

Glasses: Isn't that perfectly convenient?

Bandaged Man: I have a fiancée.

Glasses: What does that person say?

Bandaged Man: She says it doesn't matter.

Glasses: Then there's nothing left to say, is there?
"Well now—in that case—you first..."

“The thing is—that woman loves me.”
“Of course she does.”

“I once resolved to remove these bandages and show her this face.”

“And even then she says it’s acceptable, I suppose?”

Bandages: (Nodding) “Then she presses her face against my chest and cries.”
“She says she isn’t sad, yet she cries.”

Glasses: “You understand that feeling, don’t you?”

“I don’t understand.”

(A somewhat long silence.)

“Don’t you understand?”

“If I were to understand, it would mean she’s lying.”

(A somewhat long silence.)

I made up my mind.
It wasn’t so much a decision as resignation.
That's right, I gave up.

Glasses: "So you've given up, then."

Bandages: "Right, that's how it is."
"It's quite simple."
"Despite appearances, I am a man who detests sentimental things."

Glasses: "Despite appearances, I too am someone who thinks about things more than most."
"I am an actor—well, were I to give my name, you might recognize it, but I shan't say it. I am an actor."
"In modern theater circles, I'm considered a fairly accomplished actor."
"When I was eight years old, I lost my parents and was taken in by an uncle—well, you might recognize his name too were I to mention it, but let's leave that unsaid—and in that household, there was a daughter."

Bandages: “I think I can guess the rest without needing to hear it—so this is just some trivial love affair then.”

Glasses: “What do you mean by ‘just’? Then what about yours? Do you think someone would be driven to despair over such trivial obligations?”

Bandages: “Whether one goes through with it or not isn’t the issue. So, in the end, what became of it?”

Glasses: “If you already know how it ends, there’s no need for me to say it.”

“Now, don’t get so angry.”

“When I’m about to start talking—or haven’t even begun—is there any sense in you asking how it ended? There’s no tension left now.”

“Well, there’s no need for dramatic tension either—the story being what it is. In other words, you couldn’t marry that young woman. So after reaching despair—that seems to be the gist of it.”

“What exactly seems to be the gist? Wrong? It’s not just wrong—it’s completely off the mark! Ha ha ha... People’s affairs—you just can’t understand ’em, can you? The girl ended up dying from illness.”
(Voice trembling) “I did such a terrible thing. That illness too was something I essentially planted the seeds for. Rumors began circulating that I was involved with a certain actress. That is absolutely not true. Tormented by that—that is, believing it to be true—she agonized day and night. Alone, she tormented her small heart. That actress—well, you’d know the name if I mentioned it, but I shan’t say it—married the troupe leader. Until that news appeared in the papers, that woman wouldn’t believe a word I said. But by the time her doubts were cleared, it was already too late. She was lying on a hospital bed, her body emaciated.”
(Wiping tears, sniffling) “I was a fool.”

“I was a coward.”
“Looking back now—why didn’t I quit acting right then and show her this? When I think of that—how pathetic and hateful that version of me was, obsessed with art this and art that, trying to memorize all those worthless lines… Belatedly, I resolved to keep the dead woman’s feelings alive within my heart and follow after her.”

“That’s petty thinking.”
“What becomes of things when you die?”
“Do you imagine you’ll reach her side?”
“This can’t truly be your reasoning.”
“Your grief is perfectly understandable.”
“But it’s hardly an eternal, unforgettable sorrow.”
“Though I suppose you can’t see that now.”
“That blindness makes you beautifully pathetic.”
“Now—how old are you?”

“How old do I look?”
(Pause.)

“My age hardly matters.”
“You’re still young.”
“Isn’t life’s flowering yet to come?”

Glasses: “How old are you?”

“Me?”
“If I told you to guess, you’d be stuck, wouldn’t you?”
“Thirty-five.”
“But age means nothing in my situation.”

(A somewhat long silence)

“Someone seems to have come,” said Glasses.
“If we’re found, it’ll be trouble.”
(They stand up)

Bandaged Man: “It’s a track inspection, isn’t it.”
“Well then, shall we hide?”

(Both men concealed themselves.)

Someone passed by on the embankment.
The safety lamp’s glow swiftly grazed the stage.

A train whistle.

(The sound of a train approaches)

Glasses (emerging): “It’s safe now.”

Bandages (emerging next): “It’s a down train, isn’t it.”

Glasses: “The Kobe-bound express.”

Bandages (sitting down): “You’re the one reconsidering, aren’t you. I won’t act rashly—that’s fine by me.”

(The train passed over the embankment.
The two men watched it pass.)

Glasses: “It seems crowded.”

Bandages: “Was it crowded?”
“Night trains are gloomy things.”
(Pause.)

Glasses: “You’re the one with such splendid work—that alone should give you reason enough to live.”

Bandages: “The meaning of existence? I could not care less.”
“Work is work, life is life.”
“Someone like you could still take on any work from here.”
“Any romance could be yours.”
“Especially for artists—isn’t their work itself their lover?”
“Well—isn’t that precisely what I described?”
“For our kind, it may not be easily grasped—but isn’t there something like... how to put it... a sort of Wollust? Isn’t there such a state?”
“A state where your body stiffens—where you shudder uncontrollably—where you melt completely into something—couldn’t one enter that at any time?”

Glasses: “In that case, even through your work, you should still be able to cultivate feelings similar to those toward a lover. Things like becoming so engrossed in work that you forget to eat or sleep... completely discarding worldly matters and family without a second thought—haven’t you often heard such stories?”

Bandages: “That’s entirely different.”
“Admittedly, scholars do possess that aspect.”
“But you can’t understand without seeing the other side.”
“Ultimately, it’s a human problem.”
“Not logic.”
“Exactly—why don’t you ask another young man in your exact circumstances?”
“Whether that youth would resolve sorrows matching yours and troubles mirroring yours through methods like yours remains uncertain.”
“No—rather, normally he wouldn’t do such a thing.”
“Not doing it is what’s right.”

“That’s not necessarily right.”

Bandages: “I’ll oppose this through hell’s last circle.”
“(Beat) Shall we make it official? Let me deliver you straight to constabulary care.”

“The police...”
“And then what?”
(Pause) “Why don’t we cease this persistent interference?”
“I’m the one who should be admonishing you for your misconduct—so much so that I could.”

“Whether I admonish you or not is another matter—you’re the one who ought to go home.”
“I’m not giving you bad advice.”
“Heed an elder’s words.”

(Train whistle, sound of a train approaching)

Glasses (rising to his feet): "Please don't say another word." (Attempting to scramble up the embankment)

Bandages (grabbing his sleeve): “Enough, you. That won’t do any good.”

Glasses (thrashing about to break free): “Let go. My body is my own. Just let me do it!”

Bandages: “That’s right—it’s yours. Your body. That’s why I’m telling you to quit this nonsense. I may look this way, but I’m a man who detests sentimentality. If letting you die were acceptable, I’d let you die.” (Suddenly raising his voice) “You fool! Pull yourself together!” (drags him down)

Man with Glasses (thrown off by this intensity): "Then... what will you do?"

Bandages (shoving his opponent aside in that instant): “I’ll do this.” (runs up the embankment)

(At this very moment, the train passes.)
(The figure of the man with bandages disappears)

Glasses: "Ah! He did it."
(Pause) "He finally went and did it."
"Damn it!"

(As he says this, the man with bandages lumbers down from the embankment above.)

Glasses: "Oh! You didn't do it?"

“I did it, I did—but I was too early.”
“To be precise, I overcommitted.”
“I jumped to the other side of the tracks.”
“I messed up.”

“This next time,” he panted.

“That’s why you should have just let me go first though.”

“That won’t do.”
“If I let you go first, my honor won’t hold up.”
“I oppose your suicide.”
“I can’t pretend I didn’t see it.”
“If I didn’t care even about myself, I’d either take you home or hand you over to the police. But I can’t do that.”
“Since you refuse to listen to me, do what you want to do where I’m not present.”
“After all, it doesn’t have to be this particular spot.”

Glasses: “I discovered this spot first.”

Bandages: “This isn’t about discovery order.”
“While I draw breath, I won’t permit your death—ingrain that truth.”

Glasses: “Then perhaps you should contemplate living—to preserve my life?”
“Under those terms, comprehension dawns.”

“So… you really don’t intend to die after all.”
“That must be it.”
“Now I understand.”
“If that’s how it stands, stop lingering in this place indefinitely.”
“It’s too late now, you.”
“That was the 10pm Hamamatsu-bound train.”

Glasses: “It’s you who lacks the resolve to die.”
“Failed railway suicides don’t catch on much, you know.”

(At this moment, a whistle sounded again, and soon after came the noise of an approaching train.)

“Fine then—watch me!” The man with bandages started climbing the embankment.

“This time, it’s me!” The man with glasses dragged the man with bandages down.

“What are you doing?”

During this exchange, the man with glasses swiftly ran up the embankment.
The train passed.
His figure vanished.

“He finally went and did it.”
“He really went and did it.”
“Damn it!”
“This—after all—doing it afterward just doesn’t work.”

(He muttered this, then suddenly looked up at the embankment to see the man with glasses rubbing his eyes as he trudged down.)

“Oh—this one missed too?”

“No good—it’s a freight train.”

“Freight...?”

“Ah, it hurts!” (rubbing his eyes) “Damn soot got in.”
“This won’t do.”
“It really hurts.”
“Ow-ow ow... (pause)”
“Excuse me—could you take a look?”

“I can look, but with this light...” Bandages muttered while peering closer. “There—tilt your head up properly.” His bandaged fingers adjusted Glasses’ chin. “Don’t tense your eyelids like that—you’re making it worse.”

Glasses (pulling up his eyelids with both hands): “Did you find it? It’s on the right side.”

Bandages: “Like I can see a damn thing.”
Bandages: “This is hopeless.”

(A train whistle sounds, followed by the rumble of a train.)

“There—it’s coming! Handle it yourself!” (attempted to climb up the embankment)

Glasses: “It hurts! It hurts!” (clinging to the man with bandages) “For mercy’s sake, please get this out first!”

Bandages: “But you... (peering into his eye once more) Even if I could remove something I can’t see, that’d be impossible.”

(The sound of a train approached)

“While you’re in pain—perfect timing—let’s get this over with all at once.”

Glasses: “Don’t say such reckless things—please do something about this! This way, there’s nothing you can do!”

(The train passed over the embankment.
The empty lunchbox came flying beside the two men.)

Bandages (picking it up): “Ate it clean, didn’t they?”

“Ouch... Ouch...”
“Come on... Hurry...”

Bandages (discarding the empty lunchbox): “There—what a troublesome man you are. Hand over a handkerchief or something.”

Glasses: “Please take out the one in your pocket.”

Bandages (pulling a handkerchief from his pocket): “Will this do?” (the motion causing something that looked like a photo to fall out) “Huh—something came out!” (scanning the area)
(picking up a photo) “A photo.”
“Let me see…” (holding it up to the light) “Ah—this is it.”
“Peach-split bangs, eh?”
“Now this is splendid—what do you think?”
“This smile…”

Glasses: “Now—let’s save that for later...”

Bandages: “Wait—shouldn’t this take priority?”
“But what remarkable eyes.”
“You won’t find eyes like these anywhere.”

Glasses: “Do you think so?”
(pause) “Those eyes... now sleep forever.”

Bandages: “What a criminal waste.”
“This mouth too—truly exceptional.”
“Bewitching beyond her years.”

“That mouth—‘Have mercy...’ she said”—his voice broke into sobs—“that was the last.”
“This mouth here—”

“Yes—that’s what she said.”

Bandages: "Now look at this hand."
"What innocence!"
"A hand made for clutching playthings."

Glasses: "N-no—it was my hand she grasped!" (bursting into tears) "M-mercy... have mercy... she said, while—while clutching my hand with both of hers!"
"N-no more... strength... I’ve—I’ve got none left!" (collapses weeping)

Bandages: "With these hands..." No sooner had he said this than he pressed the handkerchief in his hand against his own eyes. "Damn it—something like tears is coming out."
(Pause)

Glasses: "Contrary to how I appear, I'm someone who thinks twice as much as others about things. There are ample reasons behind this resolution."

Bandages: "In that case... Yes, I suppose it can't be helped. For you, being alive holds no meaning. In comparison, for someone like me—no matter how you look at it—the real issue still lies ahead. In other words—I'm interpreting my own position pessimistically. That's precisely where it all began. Even if I were to speculate about my fiancée's feelings, depending on how I approach it, I could—more actively, advantageously, sincerely—consider them in a different light. This thought—that my existence obstructs her happiness—isn't logic anymore. Even if I think so, she might not. In fact, this letter—" He took out a letter from his pocket. "Here, have a look."

Glasses (receives it,
opens it and tries to read,
but can't see clearly)

Bandages: “Can’t you see it?”
(Without looking at the letter) He recited: “I have read your letter.
“You are misunderstanding.
“When I cried back then—it was simply tears coming unbidden.
“It troubles me that you would think crying stems from such simple feelings.
“The thing I most feared—your eyes being restored to perfect clarity—that alone makes me so happy I could weep.
“As for the scar on your face...
“If your physical form were precious to me, it would only be as a marker showing where your heart resides.””

“During the five years we were apart—from the spring I was twenty to the autumn I turned twenty-five—I never once took out your photograph to look at it.”
“Now that we’re here, I’ll tell you this.”
“It was because I knew how hollow a voiceless shadow—a presence untouchable to the heart—could be.”
“You were still in Germany.”
“In the laboratory at Berlin University, you were diligently studying.”
“That belief alone became my sole consolation.”
“Those brief notes—like telegrams—you occasionally sent me—they were your voice, your words of love to me.”
“To me—you are a mysterious existence.”
“That face of yours—always deep in thought—is never one to make a woman feel close.”
“That is why I had made it my custom to always go see your figure from behind—choosing those moments when you were in your study, engaged in some work.”
“That figure of yours—hands cradling your head as you read—from the nape down to shoulders, shoulders to waist—the calm breathing I perceived in that utterly absorbed posture—please don’t laugh—I felt those alone were truly mine. And that voice—unchanged even now—that voice saying ‘Miss Mii, tea’...”
“That too is mine.”
(His voice gradually grew thick) Only here did it end with “yo”.

“Truly an admirable person,” said Glasses. “But what sort of woman is she? To take those words at face value—well, that’s rather presumptuous.” His chest tightened as he listened. Each line of the letter hid such painful effort behind it. “You’re obliged to set her free—that much is clear now.” He wiped his lenses mechanically. “I’ve grasped your circumstances fully. You mustn’t go on living.”

Bandages (pacing about): “Why aren’t women in this world made more cold-hearted?”
“Whether it’s this girl of yours or this fiancée of mine—they’re both too warm.”
“What torments us is precisely that warmth of heart.”
“At least—it’s those memories.”

“I can’t say it’s entirely like that.”
“There exist women possessing rather frigid hearts.”

“Such women don’t torment men.”
“Men aren’t tormented.”
“Once a man has touched a woman’s warm heart—no matter how cruel an attitude she might show—his heart can’t fully detach from her. That’s to say… women are simply too kind.”
“They’re born possessors of warm hearts.”
“I’ve come to believe that through and through.”
“And among those women—my fiancée is an exceptional one.”
“Now then—do read this letter through to the end.”

“Yes, I already understand.”

Bandages: “You understand, don’t you? If you don’t understand, then it’s a lie. What does it say? ‘If you deem your own appearance so unsightly, I too shall strive to make myself unsightly. If it’s toward society, I would do anything. I would smear charcoal on my face and go out in public. However, I am a woman. The appearance I strive to keep even slightly beautiful—that is merely my humble act of devotion to you. The fact that I am not beautiful is as terrifying a thing as the fact that you have no talent. It is a terrifying thing for both of us. As for everything else, it is purely a matter of heart to heart. You do not look down upon my empty mind. Your face and figure—as long as they do not show hostility toward me—how could I speak of them as beautiful or ugly?’ Well? At this point, I have no words left to respond.” Am I really unfortunate like this? What am I suffering over? Why must I die?

“That’s precisely where a man’s pride lies.”
“There are times when what is given must not be received.”
“You are not an egoist like ordinary men.”
“You do not wish to be an egoist.”
“It is precisely because you maintain such convictions that this resolve could be formed.”
“However, that aspect is truly admirable.”

“But unlike you, it’s not from pure sentiment,” said the man with bandages. “That’s precisely where my own dissatisfaction lies.” His bandages rustled faintly as he gestured toward the tracks. “‘Please forgive me’… This single phrase—whispered by the peach-split bangs girl against her young lover’s breast as death approached—couldn’t be traded for one man’s life.” A freight train’s distant whistle punctuated his words. “That you—though I know not when—survived until tonight borders on miraculous.” He adjusted his gauze-wrapped jaw with a surgeon’s precision. “Those chasing phantoms see neither mountain nor valley… much less something so mundane as trains.”

Glasses: “That isn’t so. If anything, I’m free—so to speak. Continuously depicting that illusion—if it is an illusion—in one’s mind like this, that itself already constitutes a meaningful way of living. Between us two—apart from that incident—there were no dark memories to speak of. That final month was filled with joyful yet serene mornings and evenings—perfectly suited to memories of first love. The strawberries drenched in milk—those little heart-shaped strawberries—I would have her take each one between her lips with a spoon, one by one. When I did that, she would narrow her eyes in that familiar way and say ‘Thank you.’ ‘Thank you.’ Ah, thank you, thank you—this alone, no matter how many times I heard it, I never grew weary of. A single one of those strawberries seemed to fill her mouth completely. Sometimes her ‘Thank you’ would sound like ‘Chanpyu,’ or even ‘Shanchyu.’ And then there was the way she said it. Ah, unbearable—unbearable! I wonder how many strawberries I made her eat just for that amusement.”

Bandages: (muttering) Strawberries...

(A long silence)

“Yes—so to speak, I am free,” said the Man with Glasses. “It’s purely about my own feelings. But your situation involves determining whether you’ll make a woman happy or unhappy from now on—the very way you reach your resolve differs entirely. If that’s how things stand, then swift action would be best.”

Bandages: “Once you make up your mind, you can do it anytime.”

(A somewhat long silence)

Glasses: But still, you can't understand unless you hear the story.

Bandages: By the way—about your eyes—are they all right now?

Glasses: Since I cried earlier, they ended up disappearing.

(A pause)

“Tonight—by chance meeting someone like you and talking through various matters—in any case, dying isn’t a logical proposition. Even if we wait for the next train now, we’ll inevitably end up squabbling over who goes first again. So—what do you say? Why don’t we have a drink around here and then go our separate ways when the time comes?”

Glasses: Separately then. (Pause) If you like, tonight you could go ahead with it, and I’ll serve as witness.

Bandages: Witness? That’s a good one. “How about it—you go first.”

(Pause.
The two men laugh.)

Glasses: “But this isn’t a laughing matter.”

(A long silence.
(The two men laughed again.))

Bandages: “When doing something like this, spectators are better absent—no matter how much your profession is your profession...”

Glasses: “How trivial everything becomes...”

Bandages: “At this stage, you can’t even tell who life belongs to anymore.”

Glasses: “One thing’s certain—it doesn’t belong to others.”

Bandages: “Are you certain of that?”
(A pause)

Glasses: “Well... please allow me a little more time to consider.”
(Pause) Just what did I come here to do?

Bandages: So—you came to realize your own life matters more than others', did you?

Glasses: I simply can't bring myself to believe my life holds such importance.

Bandages: "For you, there exists here another life even less important than that."

Glasses: "I wonder if that's true."
"But I had resolved myself so completely."

(Train whistle.
The sound of a train followed.)

Bandages: “Then execute that resolve.”
“Well, if I’m in your way, I’ll take my leave.”
“Or would you prefer I bolster your courage?”

(The sound of a train gradually approached.)

Glasses: (rising unsteadily) "Please give me that photograph." (Taking the photograph and gazing intently at it) "Yes—this spinelessness won’t do."
(suddenly taking the bandaged man’s hand) "Now, you come along with me too."
"Let’s die together."

Bandages: (Being pulled) “Don’t put it that way—why don’t you go ahead?”
“I don’t need to hurry.”
“I’ve got various plans to attend to anyway…”

“What’s this? Now you’re— You coward!” The man with glasses strained to drag him upward.

“You’re the coward here!” Bandages shook off his hands, circled behind, and pushed against his waist to shove him up the embankment. “Quit stalling and get moving already.”

Glasses: (bracing his body against being pushed up with hands and feet) “That’s madness! There’s no such rule!”

Bandages (continued pushing him up without hesitation)

Glasses: “Th-that’s insane... That spot hurts... It hurts, hurts, hurts, I said...!”

(The sound of the train grew ever closer)

Bandages: (releasing his hands) “Now’s your chance.”

Glasses: (tumbling down the slope) "Isn't this excessively rough of you?"

Bandages: (plopping down heavily on a log) "My apologies. My apologies."

(The train passed over the embankment.)

Glasses: (silently keeping his head down, sat down on this log too)

(A long silence.)

Bandages: “That’s enough now... you.”
(standing up and urging) “Come—let’s be on our way.”

Glasses (mechanically stands up and starts walking unsteadily)

Bandages (following after and drawing close to the man with glasses)—“I may look like this, but I’m a man who detests sentimentality.”
(solemnly) “But if it comes to letting you die now—I’ll go first.”
“I mean it.”

——Curtain——