Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

In the suburbs stood that much-touted duplex—two small houses designed for modest living. Gardens of about twenty tsubo each, divided by token bamboo fences—in flower beds that evoked the desolation of frost-withered days, colorful plants and flowers were blooming profusely due to being late spring.

The gardens at seven in the morning found both masters of the households—Meki and Kuji—each with a toothpick in their mouths; one had draped a hand towel over his shoulder while another let his hang at his waist as they strolled leisurely about.

Meki: “Lately, the weather forecasts have been quite accurate, haven’t they?”

Kuji: “It’s still too early to tell how things might change with this.”
Kuji: “Still judging by last evening’s conditions though—it was definitely rain.”

Meki: “I feel utterly depressed when I wear those rubber boots.”

“I agree.”
“Those things—no matter how you look at them, they don’t even have the proper shape of boots.”
“(Pause) And what toothpaste do you use?”

“Me?”
“I use Lion.”
“It was Club until my wife came.”

“I’m the opposite.”
“Oh, is that so?”
“Since your wife arrived…”

“No—that’s not what I meant. It just sort of happened before I knew it.”
“Keeping them separate would’ve been too much trouble.”
“Well, either way makes no difference to me…”

“Right, right.”
“Seems like circumstances are the same everywhere.”
“Your wife came last autumn, didn’t she?”
“How time flies.”

It had been shortly after moving here.
When I first came here—how shall I put it—I spent those days observing your married life with a kind of curiosity.

“Now that you mention it,” Kuji said, “back then we too had our reservations, so to speak—we were holding back on socializing... How has your mother been faring lately?”

“In Mekikuni,” Meki answered, “she’s been helping out in my brother’s kitchen.”

“Well then,” Kuji continued, “you’ve come to grasp quite thoroughly what married life truly entails these days, haven’t you?”

“I’ve come to realize,” Meki replied. “I’ve realized a great deal. Even so, you both live each day as the very embodiment of peace. It makes me rather envious to watch.”

“You mustn’t joke about such things,” Kuji countered. “When you’ve been married six years, you both learn to swallow the essentials—abandon what’s hopeless and stop thrashing about. That’s all there is to it.”

“No, that’s simply untrue,” Meki protested. “First of all, isn’t your wife utterly flawless? She rises earlier than her husband each morning and handles everything properly.”

“Your wife—with that youth and vigor—has such natural beauty...”

“Kuji—please stop.”
“If you say things like that now—while she’s lying silent in bed listening—she’ll use them against you later.”
“Your wife comes to meet you at the station with an umbrella whenever rain starts in the evening.”
“I’ve seen her do it many times! But when I tell mine about it—she says it’s my own fault for not bringing one myself.”
“That doing so would create dependency.”
“She claims since she’ll come meet me with an umbrella anyway if it rains—I’ve stopped carrying one even when clouds gather.”
“When leaving home—you should always assume rain will fall on your return—that’s her philosophy.”

“So that’s why your wife brings the bat umbrella every day.”

“But when I get caught in the rain,” Meki said, “the whole world feels dreary to me.”

Kuji nodded sagely. “That’s because your wife’s being coquettish with you—not willful at all. When you come home drenched, doesn’t she help change your kimono more gently than usual? Women have that side to them.”

“It’s nothing at all,” Meki said. “Once she told me to light the fire myself and dry my clothes. When I said ‘I’m exhausted,’ she shot back with ‘Then wear them wet tomorrow.’”

“But still—” Kuji replied, “—think of it as the duty of someone blessed with a young, beautiful wife like yourself, and endure it properly.”

From the rear came the voice of Kuji’s wife Fumiko—

“You—I’ve drawn the hot water.”

Kuji: “Ah.”

Hot water..., Meki thought.
How nice...

“Well then, I’ll go wash my face for a moment.”

Kuji retreated to the back.

Meki, looking disgruntled, watched him go, then began brushing his teeth again as if suddenly remembering.

Fumiko appeared holding a garden broom.
She began sweeping the garden.

“Good morning, Mrs. Kuji.”

“Oh my, are you already awake?”

“Well, if I don’t wake up now, I won’t make it to work on time,” Meki replied. “I have to light the charcoal brazier and wash the rice now.”

Fumiko’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh my... And Mrs. Meki...?”

"Mrs.Meki is still asleep."
"At any rate,I'll at least try waking her up,but don't count on it."
"You poor thing,Fumi!"
"It must be me."
"Oh ho ho ho!"
"Well now,could it be either of us?"

“Mr. Kuji’s a blessed man, I tell you.”

“Why do you say that?” Fumiko asked.

“He has such a devoted wife,” Meki replied. “Can’t something be done about mine?”

“Isn’t that perfectly fine?” she countered. “If you were to let your wife do as she pleases...” Her voice trailed off before concluding: “It’s because she’s thinking of you in secret.”

Meki kept thinking there was no use in just thinking.

"That’s perfectly fine," said Fumiko. "Who knows how much more dependable that might be compared to a wife who merely puts on a show of dutifulness without truly meaning it."

"Who are you talking about?" Meki asked.

"I’m not speaking of anyone in particular, but well—aren’t such things quite common in society?"

"In society, you mean."
"That might indeed be the case."
"But when it comes to that, it’s the wives who suffer more wretchedly than their husbands."
"That sort of..."

Fumiko: "That’s right."

Meki: "That's absolutely right..."
"Just think about it."
"A husband who isn’t loved is certainly unfortunate," he said, "but a wife bound for life beside a husband she doesn’t love either—forced to mechanically fulfill her tedious duties as a housewife—rotting away her glorious years as a woman without hope or solace—when I think of such women, my heart aches."

“Men like you—who give such serious thought to women’s fates—are truly rare indeed.”

“There can’t be so few,” he said. “That’s only natural.”
“I don’t consider myself a man of any particular skill.”
“But I do believe I could become a woman’s strength.”
“If the woman I loved were to say ‘You’re the one,’ I’d stake my life on protecting her happiness.”

"That's true."

“Mrs. Kuji.”
“Will you believe me?”

“That’s already…”

“I have indeed made a mistake in marriage. In other words, I was reckless.”

“That isn’t true at all.”

“No, Mrs. Kuji—I already understand everything.”
(While occasionally glancing toward the interior) “If I were to say I’ll drive out that woman right now, what would you do?”

Fumiko trailed off…

“You think I’m joking, don’t you?” Meki pressed. “Then watch me do it. Depending on your answer, Mrs. Kuji—I’ll drive her out this very instant.”

Fumiko (at a loss): “Well… there’s truly no time left now—I must go attend to dinner preparations.”

“Mrs. Kuji, please believe me.”

“Oh, well, you see... The rice seems to be done steaming, so...”

Fumiko hurriedly ran off toward the back.

Meki suddenly brightened his face and strode through the flower beds.

The rain shutters of the drawing room opened.
The sleepwear-clad figure of Meki's wife Hinako appeared.

“What are you doing? How long are you going to stay there…?”

Meki (silently continued pacing aimlessly)

II

Same stage

Evening.

Hinako and Fumiko stood talking across the fence.

"That part’s a bit easier for me," said Hinako.

"How fortunate for you," Fumiko replied. "The moment he steps into the house, his eyes turn sharp with anger."
"It’s rather like your husband... The only one I can truly speak openly with..."
"If I so much as exchange a word with anyone, he’ll keep quiet at the time, mind you, but later start in about how my eyes were 'lingering improperly' or how some man 'flinched back a step when he saw him'..."

“Is that so?”
“You must be quite constrained in that situation.”

“That alone would still be manageable,” Fumiko said. “But it’s precisely after such incidents that he starts making these fussy demands—telling me to put on more face powder, redo my hair, wear that gaudy kimono over there—you know.”

“Why do you suppose that is?”
“You don’t understand at all, do you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Then he’ll suddenly start saying things like ‘Why are you so beautiful?’ while grabbing my hand, pressing his ear right here—” (she placed a hand over her chest) “—and exclaiming ‘I can hear it! I can hear it!’”
“What does he hear?”
“My heartbeat must have been audible.”

“Huh?”

Fumiko: “And then comes the real trouble, you know.”

Hinako……………?

Fumiko: “He suddenly grabs my neck with both hands and kisses me all over—forehead, eyes, nose. It’s strange because…”

“Oh my…”

“It’s suffocating and unsettling—each time it happens, I think I’d rather be killed than endure this.”

“How Western of him.”

“It’s those movies influencing him.”

“Still, he’s fundamentally passionate.”

“Yet normally he’s cold as ice.”

“True enough—if pressed, I’d say he tends toward quietness.”
“Unlike that, our household’s all hustle-bustle normally, yet when ignition’s needed, not a spark to be found—it makes me positively fretful.”
“Men must keep fire banked deep within during ordinary times—that’s how they ought to be.”

“But your husband—though so young—diligently attends to all sorts of matters, doesn’t he? Even this flower bed—I was the one who carried all the soil for it, you know. My husband just pretends not to notice and smokes his cigarette, you know. And yet he says your flowers are growing better and makes snide remarks about it, you know.”

“But at our place, he was saying yours has better colors. He was wondering how you handle the fertilizer.”

“Oh…”
“The merits of our household are his love for flowers and never complaining about meals.”
“That’s what matters most. His fondness for flowers shows a gentle nature, and never criticizing meals proves he has consideration for you.”
“Well, it certainly doesn’t require much effort.”
“Sometimes when I reheat the soup, he finishes most of his rice in that time.”

“That’s quite something,” Fumiko said. “At our place, even if the soy sauce tastes different, he starts examining it—‘What’s this now?’—you see? It’s unbearable.”

“But doesn’t he sometimes bring home unusual things instead?” Hinako countered. “Rabbit meat or canned asparagus...”

“Well you see—those are just things he wants to eat himself.”

“You must partake too.”

“I’ve no desire for rabbit meat or such...”

“But those aspects feel so domestic—I’m truly delighted,” said Hinako. “Even when it’s something he wants for himself, just bringing it home carries a sense of warmth.”

Fumiko asked, “Does your husband ever dine out or bring back food?”

“He lacks the means for such extravagances,” Hinako replied. “But he never once thinks to bring anything home himself.” She added with a click of her tongue, “So provincial, isn’t he?”

“That’s refreshingly straightforward,” said Fumiko. “I detest men who make a point of bringing home food like that.”

“Oh, how true,” Hinako replied.

Fumiko suddenly pricked up her ears. “Ah—it sounds like he’s returned.” Her voice dropped to a flustered whisper. “How careless of me to chatter on so… You must forgive me.”

Fumiko hurriedly retreated to the back.

Hinako subtly listened to the neighboring conversation.

Fumiko’s voice sounded rather quick.

Kuji’s voice: “Since I had business near Hongō today, I bought some Satsuma-age.”

Fumiko’s voice: “How perfectly timed. I hadn’t even started preparing...”

Kuji’s voice: “That boss next door forgot his commuter pass this morning...”
(The voice suddenly cut off.)
His wife must have stopped him.
After a moment: “Well, the train was packed—absolutely packed.”

Fumiko’s voice: “Will you change clothes now?”

Guided by her question, Kuji appeared on the veranda.

Hinako, pretending not to notice, fiddled with the flowers in the flower bed.

Kuji (noticing this): “Is your husband still not back?”

Hinako (pretending to notice for the first time): “Oh, has he already returned home?”
“Oh no, he hasn’t returned yet.”

Kuji: “Unlike someone like me working at a poor company, he can’t quite make it back on time.”
“On the other hand, his bonus must be something impressive.”

Hinako: If that were true, it would be fine, but...

Kuji (suddenly kicking his wife’s discarded geta and approaching the fence): How about it—anything unusual happen?

“Huh?”

Kuji: “Have you grown accustomed to keeping house?”

“Oh, I’ve already completely…”
“Do you ever go to the cinema?”

“Oh no, I’ve kept entirely to myself ever since, I’m afraid.”

Kuji: “Wasn’t your hometown somewhere around here?”

Hinako: “Oh… That isn’t quite correct.”

Kuji: “Wasn’t it? When you first came here, I thought—hmm—I’ve seen this young lady somewhere before.”
“Though by then you were already clearly the wife…”

Hinako: “You must have thought me such a childish bride.”

Kuji: “No—it’s simply that my own wife has grown too old.”
“How old would you say she is?”
“She likely wouldn’t tell anyone her true age—but what number has she given you?”

“I haven’t asked yet.”
“But she must still be quite young, I’m sure…”

Kuji: “There’s no point hiding my wife’s age—I’ll just say it. She’s twenty-nine this year. Next year she’ll be thirty… You must be shocked.”

Hinako: “That’s true. She doesn’t look it at all, no matter how…”

Kuji: “Because she’s an idiot.”

Hinako: “Because you don’t have any children.”

Kuji: “Come closer and take a look.”
“Her eyelids sag, her earlobes have lost their redness, and vertical wrinkles gather at her throat.”

Hinako: “Oh my, such things...”

Kuji: “Even so, I’m only four years older than your husband.”
“If a twenty-nine-year-old man can have a twenty-year-old woman as his wife, then shouldn’t a thirty-three-year-old man at least be permitted to keep a twenty-year-old lover?”

Hinako……

Kuji: “To all appearances, you possess every quality of the modern woman.”
“I respect women who do as they please while firmly securing men’s affections far more than those who can’t act freely, forever gauging men’s moods.”
“I want to be thoroughly tormented by such women.”

Hinako (taking a flower and plucking its petals)

At this moment, Meki’s voice was heard calling from inside: “Hinako? Are you there? Hey, Hinako—it’s me!”

Kuji: “Mrs. Meki, well then, let’s leave it at that for today.”
“Well, another time…”

Hinako silently nodded and retreated inside.

Fumiko’s voice could be heard.
Kuji turned in that direction.

Fumiko (appearing on the veranda): “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”
“Oh my, you’re still wearing your clothes…”

Kuji whistled as he stepped up into the tatami room.

Fumiko (from behind): "You're always gazing at those neighbor's flowers."

III

Same setting.

A few days later, Sunday—around 1 PM.

Meki and Kuji were both dressed in tanzen robes—one having descended into the garden while his counterpart sat upon the veranda—puffing cigarettes as they waited for their wives' makeup preparations to conclude.
The wives remained oblivious to this scrutiny through parted shoji screens， utterly absorbed before hand-mirrors as blackened brows took shape beneath charcoal sticks， cheeks blossoming crimson beneath practiced fingertips.

“Hey, Mr. Kuji—instead of going to some movie, why don’t we get our spirits up and try heading to Mount Takao or somewhere?”

“What are you talking about...? It’s already been settled, hasn’t it?”

“I don’t mind either way, but since Mrs. Meki’s looking forward to it, let’s just stick with the movie today.”

“Exactly! Mount Takao’s where old folks go—or else drunks.”

Kuji: And elementary school students—my wife said the same thing earlier. “Rather than some movie, she wants to go on an excursion with a lunchbox.”

Meki: An excursion! “I’m all for it!”

Hinako: You’re being noisy!

Kuji: Well, my wife doesn’t appreciate movies. “She says the only interesting ones she’s seen were strange live-action footage of Brazilian forests and pastures or such.”

“Well, live-action footage—that kind of thing is quite enjoyable,” said Meki. “Rather than actors’ clumsy expressions, I find far more pleasure in watching clouds, water, and plants move about so artlessly. Especially from countries so distant you’d need to pull out a map to even orient yourself.”

Hinako retorted, “You wouldn’t know where Brazil is unless you consulted a map.”

“I know Brazil,” Meki countered. “Even if it’s not Brazil—take Alaska, Finland, or Madagascar—I understand them without maps. They exist in my mind as vague outlines: farther than Osaka, farther than Kyushu—naturally—but how many hours by ship? The fact that I can’t say precisely makes it intriguing. It’s just...the distance, the scarcity of visitors, how nature remains pristine there—those concepts I grasp only dimly.”

Kuji: "For my part, I find human beings most fascinating."

Hinako: "Exactly so."

Kuji: "Human beings—the societies they build, the events they incite, their lives and deaths, love and hatred... One could watch these endlessly without tiring."

Hinako (to her husband): "Could you fetch my hand towel from the kitchen?"

“Wouldn’t it be closer from there?”

Hinako (glaring at her husband): “Because if I stand up now, the things on my lap will fall off!”

Meki (reluctantly goes to fetch the kitchen hand towel)

“Mr. Kuji, have you seen ‘Manon Lescaut’…”

“I haven’t seen it,” said Kuji.
“Kept thinking I’d watch it but ended up missing out altogether.”

Hinako: “I heard it was good.”

Meki tossed the hand towel toward his wife. “This is the last time—I’m through doing your errands...”

“Thanks a lot,” Hinako said calmly. “Oh, and then—just a little of that hot water over here...”

“Which hot water...?” Meki asked.

“The hot water’s in the iron kettle, obviously.”

Meki: “I didn’t know that was obvious.”
(He poured water from the iron kettle onto the edge of the hand towel his wife held out)

Hinako: “Yes, that’s quite enough…”

Meki (reappeared on the veranda): “Mrs. Kuji, your makeup must be finished by now, I suppose?”

Fumiko: “Yes, just a bit more...”

Meki: “What part are you on now?”

Fumiko: “Now, right now, well...”
(While applying lipstick) “What do you mean by asking such a thing?”

“I was wondering which would be faster—mine or yours...” Meki said. “Mine’s just cleaning her ears now.”

“You’re lying!” Hinako retorted. “I’m only reapplying powder to my ears!”

Was she powdering her ears too? Not like anyone would even see them.

Hinako: “You be quiet.”

Kuji (to Fumiko): “Hey, hurry up.”

Fumiko: “Uh-huh, I'm already done.”
“No matter how much makeup I put on, I’ll never become like Mrs. Meki, so I’ll just do a decent amount.”

“Enough already. Get my Western clothes out.”

“So which parts are left to finish now?” Meki asked.

“There’s no ‘which parts’ about it,” Hinako replied.
“The overall balance is what matters...”
“I just can’t seem to get it right today.”

Meki grumbled, “I’m getting sicker of going out by the minute.”

“Then stay home alone,” Hinako shot back.

Kuji barked, “That’s enough now.”

Kuji headed up to the tatami room.

Fumiko took out Western clothes from the chest of drawers.

Meki (impatiently): “Why on earth can’t I go where I want to go? Why on earth do I have to go where I don’t want to go?”

Kuji suddenly snapped at his wife: “That’s exactly why you’re hopeless! When others seem to be enjoying themselves, you should act like you’re enjoying yourself too.”

Meki, startled by the voice, quietly approached the fence.

“Then have it your way! From now on I won’t take you anywhere.”
“Look at Mrs. Meki.”
“Even when she acts up a little, it’s because she hurries to lift her husband’s mood in these situations that their home always feels lively.”
“Not a hint of stagnation.”

“I’m sorry,” Fumiko said tearfully.
“Why can’t I feel cheerful like this?”

“It’s because you’re not innocent.”

Hinako beckoned her husband.

Meki demonstrated by crossing the fingers of both hands in a mock sword fight.

“It’s unbecoming. Stop crying,” Kuji snapped. “If you’re not going, then go tell them you’re not!”

Fumiko…………….

“If you’re going, then hurry up and change.”

“I…I think I’ll pass after all,” Fumiko murmured. “Please just go by yourself.”

Meki quietly returned to the veranda, stretched his neck toward Hinako, and whispered something in a low voice.

“What?”
“I can’t hear you.”

“They’re already changing into kimonos over there.”

“Mrs. Kuji too?”

“Mrs. Kuji was definitely taking out something like a haori coat from the chest of drawers.”

“In that case—you—couldn’t you hurry over to that tabi shop right away?”

“I’m in Western clothes.”

“It isn’t yours!
All my tabi are soiled and unwearable.
So hurry up and go buy them for me!”
(producing silver coins from her purse) “Here, with this...”
“Nine mon and three bu.”

Meki silently stared at the silver coins.

"What's wrong? You need to hurry."

"Whether it's quick or slow—I'm absolutely not going."

Hinako calmly applied her lipstick. "If you don't do as I say, I'll hit you."

“Are you going to hit me?”

“That’s right,” Hinako said.

Meki’s face hardened with resolve. “Alright! This is the last time! You hear? The absolute last time of all!”

“Fine, whatever,” she replied without looking up from her makeup. “Just run carefully so you don’t fall.”

He glanced back repeatedly—once, twice—his face contorting like a child fighting tears before finally breaking into a desperate sprint.

Meanwhile, Kuji was about to finish putting on his Western clothes.
Fumiko, having regained her composure, was briskly assisting with the task.

Kuji: “Why don’t you just say you suddenly came down with a headache or something?
We’re the ones who invited them in the first place. Wouldn’t it be odd to cancel now?”

Fumiko: “Yes, let’s do that.
Whenever I’m supposed to go somewhere with other people, I always end up losing all motivation when the time actually comes.
There was that time when Ms. Osaki’s older sister invited us to see sumo, remember?
Even then, when I started getting the kimono out, I just couldn’t take it anymore.
Once I decide something’s unpleasant, I simply can’t endure it anymore, you see.
I usually don’t insist on having my way with most things, but this time it’s unbearable—I could cry.
What can I possibly say?”

“Ah, never mind,” said Kuji. “No use dragging you along with that sour face.”
“But that temperament of yours is such a liability…”
“If it can be mended, best mend it.”

“Y-yes… I’ll… try to improve bit by bit,” Fumiko replied.

“Then go,” Kuji ordered. “Quickly—ask if they’re ready.”

“Would going through the garden seem improper?”

“Of course not strange.”

“But it would be odd for me to say it myself.”
“I’m begging you—please tell them that way!”
“—Just because things are like this…”

“Then we’ll go through the front entrance.”
“Bring out the shoes…”

Hinako finally finished her makeup, took out her finest kimono from the chest of drawers, and began to undo her obi.
And, as if suddenly remembering, she closed the shoji screens on the engawa.

Kuji made his wife take out the shoes and left through the entrance.

Fumiko slumped down exhaustedly before the long brazier in the tearoom as if she had set down a heavy burden.

Meki returned at this moment ploddingly, holding women’s white tabi in one hand.
Finding the shoji screens closed, he momentarily made a suspicious-looking face but without attempting to peer inside, sat down on the engawa and became lost in thought.

The sound of the front entrance opening.

Then—

Kuji’s voice was heard: “Not ready yet?”

Hinako’s voice: “Oh! You’re already prepared?”

Kuji’s voice: “Meki…?”
Hinako’s voice: “He just went to buy tabi socks nearby, you see.”
“He’ll be back soon.”
“Please do come around to the engawa…”

Meki hurriedly stowed the tabi into his pocket.

Kuji appeared in the garden.

Kuji: “Ah? Are you staying like that?”

Meki: “Well, I’ve suddenly come down with a headache, so I’m wondering what to do.”

Kuji: “A headache. That’s not good.”
“Maybe it’s the weather.”
“Now my wife’s also complaining of dizziness or something—started changing her kimono and then decided not to go out after all.”

Hinako’s voice: “Did something happen to Mrs. Kuji?”

Kuji: “Well, you see, she suddenly claimed dizziness and couldn’t go out—I came to apologize—but it’d be a shame to let all our careful planning go to waste. If you don’t mind, I thought I’d accompany you myself instead…”
“But since Meki here isn’t feeling well either, perhaps we should postpone today’s movie outing?”

Hinako (sliding the shoji open a crack and peeking out): Oh, how dull.

“So you should just go,” said Meki. “If Mr. Kuji has no objection, why don’t you take her along?”

Kuji: “Well, I don’t mind that… After all, I did come here planning to go…” His tone shifted slightly. “But will you be alright alone afterward? With my wife unable to accompany you…”

Meki: “I’ll manage.”

Hinako: “Then I’ll go.”

Kuji rubbed his neck awkwardly. “This feels… improper somehow.”

Hinako peered through the shoji crack. “Do you think Mrs. Kuji might mind…?”

“Her?” Kuji snorted. “She’s unbothered.”

“In that case,” Hinako’s voice brightened behind the screen, “I’ll finish straight away—please wait just a moment longer.”

“Please take your time...”
“Is it hurting badly?”

“It’s nothing. Since I know the cause, I’ll be fine,” Meki said. “Chasing after that dog back there must have done me in. My heart’s a bit weak, you see. Looking like this…”

“Like a dove, I suppose,” Kuji replied. “My heart seems exceptionally sturdy compared to most people. Even if I die, I imagine my heart alone would probably keep beating for about an hour or so.”

Meki murmured, “It’s just like a frog’s, then…”

“What about the frog?”
“It’s watching from over by the fence.”

Hinako: “Is it big?”

Meki (seriously): “Medium-sized…”

Kuji: “Hahahaha! But this really is frog season now.”

In the meantime, Fumiko folded her husband’s cast-off kimono and brought out their bankbook from the kitchen to inspect.

Before long—

Hinako (sliding open the shoji): “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

Kuji: “Not at all.”
(To Meki) “Then I’ll properly look after your wife.”

Meki (weakly): “Please… take good care of her.”

“I’ll be going now.”
“Do clean up the rest for me, will you?”

Kuji headed to the front entrance.

Hinako, as if having forgotten her husband's presence, faced the mirror once more, adjusted her hair, and hurriedly rushed off toward the entrance.

The sound of the entrance opening.

Meki remained in that same position for a while, staring blankly ahead, but after some time, he rose and began to slowly head toward the fence. But he seemed to hesitate somehow and turned back again. He yanked tabi socks from his pocket, roughly twisted them, and flung them aside.

Fumiko too appeared restless as she walked toward the veranda while keeping watch on the neighboring house. She tilted her head slightly. True to form, she lacked the courage to venture into the garden and returned to her former seat.

Meki finally lost patience, yet in a manner that suppressed his restless heart, he stealthily approached the neighboring fence. — At this moment, Drdla's Serenade could be heard drifting in from somewhere, a measure or two faintly reaching them.

—Curtain—