Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

When leaving the company, Momoko had a companion with her, so they took separate trains from Honjou, but when he got off at S Station, he was already there waiting.

The two of them walked arm-in-arm through the evening-darkened streets for a few blocks and came to a stop before a large gate in a fire-scarred estate district. Momoko widened her eyes and looked up at the pine branch over the gate, "You... this mansion?"

“Yeah. Isn’t it wonderful? “Every day on my way to work and back, I’d pass by the front and think, ‘What a fine house.’ “This morning before leaving, I stopped in and got them to show me the room. “The detached tea room—it’s perfectly rustic! “Run as a side business by some down-on-their-luck aristocrats—part inn, part rest house. “People from the office would never suspect this place, you know.” “But I—”

Momoko shrank back, "But your house isn't far from here at all, is it? Being right under her nose—what if your wife notices us instead of people from work?" "It's darkest under the lighthouse. Venturing far would only get us caught. With this place, even my wife—even Buddha himself—wouldn't know." The imposing structure made Momoko hesitate, and as she faltered at entering, an amateurish maid—having sensed their presence—emerged from within to guide them. Treading upon Tama River gravel, they were led through the Suzaku Gate on the right to the garden tea room.

As they gazed curiously at the elaborately decorated room, the same maid from before returned—deliberately clacking her garden clogs—bringing a sake decanter, beer, and some light snacks.

“If you require anything, please press this bell.” A bell had been installed on the wall beside where Honjou sat. When the maid left, Momoko picked up the sake decanter, poured into Honjou’s cup, then drank beer herself.

“Surely your wife doesn’t know about us, does she?”

"Probably not... When you visited me during my illness, she praised you oddly afterward—who can say." "Would it trouble you if she knew?" He laughed through his eyes.

“That would be troublesome. But there's no helping it. I simply can’t part with you, no matter what.” “But your wife isn’t the type to get jealous at all, is she?” “Hmm. But—it’d be better if she did get jealous. It’s agony having her silently stare at me like that without a word.”

For some reason—perhaps recalling something—Honjou's face twisted as if he were about to cry. The alcohol's effects showed through a faint blush rising to his fair complexion, his eyes glistening with drink now appearing beautiful. Momoko brought the cup to her lips while gazing entranced at his face— "Because I love you, even if your wife gets angry, I'll never leave unless you cast me away." "My wife hasn't sniffed out our relationship yet. But that woman keeps silent while watching my every move. She wants to know everything about me—from first to last. She can't rest unless she knows it all. Good or bad." His voice dropped lower. "In other words—she's twisted."

“Your wife must love you tremendously, don’t you think?” “I could never measure up to someone like that.” “Such devotion makes me bow my head in respect.” “I hate it.” “I utterly despise it.” “Just try to imagine.” “She knows every damn thing yet pretends not to notice.” “I hate it!” He ground his cigarette into the ashtray. “If you truly love someone, wanting to know everything about them is only natural.” “But I can’t know what you do when we’re apart.” “Of course I want to know, but—”

“Then why don’t you just ask?” “Even if I asked, it’d be futile if you concealed things, wouldn’t it? After all, even you must have matters you don’t wish to tell me. I know that might provoke jealousy, but if one could perceive everything like your wife does, I think one would never feel jealous at all.” “Hmm, I wonder...” “For instance—even when we’re together like this, I can’t truly fathom how profound your love for me runs. I can only surmise through your words and demeanor. But since your wife can pierce through to the very depths of your heart, she likely feels no anxiety while maintaining her superior position. She might stay perfectly composed even if you took another lover. In short—it’s because she’s dominant. Because she possesses absolute certainty of being loved—”

“Wouldn’t she find it unpleasant having her love divided? Don’t you think she’d want everything for herself?” “I intend to monopolize both your body and mind—but what’s the truth? Seeing your wife never gets jealous... it’s suspicious.” "My wife—she keeps me chained and lets me play when it suits her. Thinks I’m her damn lapdog! Disgusting creature." He spat the words out.

“But didn’t you say your wife was tremendously helpful back in your newlywed days?” “It sure was useful. That woman’s Seventh Sense—it’s all about that mysterious power. Thanks to that, I was saved from dangers and kept getting promoted through my superiors’ good graces. Convenient as it was, now that very thing has become a nuisance. The reason she knows everything is that damn Seventh Sense has become overdeveloped. And lately that damn thing’s gotten even sharper. If this keeps up, I’ll be so tormented I can’t stay together. I’ll go mad!”

“The passion that could drive you mad—how I envy it. “Your wife must be—” “What are you saying? “If you weren’t here, I couldn’t keep living. “With just that woman around, I’d have killed myself ages ago.” “Since I don’t have any Seventh Sense—not even a Sixth Sense—being completely ordinary and oblivious to everything, that’s precisely why you find me so undemanding and easy to be with, isn’t it?”

“Only when I’m with you like this does it feel like heaven to me.”

Honjou abruptly stood up and glanced into the next room. A lamp with a light blue cover cast a cool glow by the pillow, and through the white linen mosquito net, the crimson-edged futon appeared alluring. He closed the sliding door tightly, edged closer to Momoko, placed a hand on her shoulder, and pulled her close, “Hey, every part of me belongs to you.” The hand holding Momoko’s glass trembled violently. “Stop that. The beer will spill.” And brought the half-drunk glass to his lips.

Two

When leaving home, he had mentioned there being a banquet where he might be late, so upon returning close to midnight to find his wife Yasuko showing no particular signs of suspicion, he inwardly sighed in relief and kept chattering away about trivial matters better left unsaid. “It might’ve been due to the banquet fees, but the drinks were awful.” “Nothing beats our evening drinks at home after all.”

Yasuko glanced sidelong at his face with a fleeting look. Five years his senior, she always wore heavy makeup and flamboyant attire, seemingly preoccupied with maintaining parity with him.

“No matter how much you flatter me and beg for another drink after already having some, it’s no use.” “You’ve already had quite a lot to drink, you know.” “It’s poison.” Even as she said this, she opened the rationed beer she had saved for him.

Yasuko glanced at the pillar clock,

“Oh my, it’s already one o’clock. Since tomorrow is Sunday, please take your time sleeping in. In the meantime, I’ll go to the institute for psychic training. I’ll return before you awaken—”

Honjou made a bitter face and, “Cut it out already. With all this ‘training, training’ talk—what exactly are you trying to achieve? If that sense of yours develops any further, I won’t be able to take it.” “But I do possess remarkable psychic abilities, you know. I need to train and refine them—it’d be a waste otherwise. And if you were to lose your job, I’d become a medium, make loads of money, and let you live in comfort.” “Idiot! Don’t jinx it! Would a thirty-two-year-old like me ever tolerate being unemployed now? It’s only just beginning!”

“Yes, yes. I’m sorry.” “I shouldn’t have said unnecessary things when you’re already tired. If I’ve upset you, I’m sorry.” “Well then, I’ll retire first, so please enjoy your drink while thinking about—or perhaps reminiscing over—how to continue ‘the banquet.’”

Yasuko slid the door shut with a sharp clack and left. The words she had said—"thinking about continuing the banquet—" lingered in his mind and troubled him. "'When you're already tired,' she had the nerve to say."

Honjou glared at her through the sliding door while muttering in a low voice. He polished off the remaining two bottles of beer and went to bed at some unknown hour, but when he awoke, Yasuko was gone. It seemed a considerable amount of time had passed since she had left, as breakfast preparations were laid out on the tea-room table covered with a white lace cloth, but even the rice cooked that morning had gone completely cold, and the miso soup was watery. After finishing breakfast and sipping tea, he casually glanced at his wife’s desk—though she always kept it neatly organized, today alone the household ledger lay open, with a fountain pen resting atop her diary.

"Huh." "That woman dares keep a diary—the insolence—" Shun Honjou resolved to secretly see what Yasuko had written.

“A wife’s diary is utterly worthless.” “Either complaints about household finances or the husband’s grievances—that’s all it amounts to.” Sneering, he flipped through two or three pages—but when his eyes fell upon the final page, he froze.

“September 10th, Saturday Lately I heard the Viscount Okuda household has been secretly operating an inn. Thinking this house would be perfect for today’s rendezvous—one that would surely satisfy her—I checked briefly before leaving and found it reasonably priced. The room suited my tastes perfectly. Having told my wife I was attending a banquet eliminated any concerns about my return time—everything fell neatly into place. After work I accompanied her there.”

Because she feared the wife’s piercing gaze, I did my utmost to berate the wife and comfort her. "We vowed never to part; I saw her to the station and returned home—it was just before 12:15." Shun Honjou clawed at his head. That woman knew everything—absolutely everything. This wasn’t his wife’s diary—this was a diary his wife had written about Shun Honjou himself. She was mocking me.

But that she already knew about last night was utterly astonishing. And since she was putting on such an innocent face, she was a cunning devil.

"Demon! Demonic woman!"

He slammed the diary down.

But, unable to let it go, he picked it up again and flipped through the earlier entries.

“Saturday, August 6th Even I was growing weary of that older woman’s terrifying passion. She was originally another man’s wife—having abandoned her husband and cast aside her status—who threw herself into my arms. That now I’m being made out to have seduced her is utterly infuriating. I was overwhelmed by her blazing passion and ended up marrying her, but Yasuko’s sixth sense—or rather, her seventh sense—proved extremely useful at first.

For instance, if she warned, "There will be staff cuts at the company soon, so be careful," within four or five days someone would inevitably get axed. She also said that if I didn’t delay my commute time a bit today, there would be a train accident and it would be dangerous. Even if I dismissed it as nonsense and left a bit later, there would be commotion about the previous train derailing with injured passengers—truly she possessed that mysterious Seventh Sense which existed beyond our ordinary sixth senses.

Who could have said it? Because she possessed such rich spiritual faculties, honing them would make her someone formidable who could see through anything. Flattered into compliance, she zealously began this so-called psychic research. In truth, it seemed she had launched her studies driven by an ambition to observe my actions whenever separated from her. To speak her true feelings without reservation—they resided in her desire to completely monopolize me, Shun Honjou, and know my every deed from first to last. Lately, mere knowledge no longer sufficed to satisfy her. My body—from each hair on my head to every toenail—no, rather, if possible, she appeared consumed by a desire to tear open my skin, extract my entrails, and examine even my heart. Yet she must not kill me. Since causing my death would result in her own demise as well, here I inevitably recognized the necessity of spiritual means. Through spectral power, she sought to plumb my true intentions. "And never must we relax that piercing gaze."

Shun Honjou snapped the diary shut and stood up. “To hell with you!” “Psychic powers? What nonsense!” “What’s spiritual power?” “Imbecile!”

He spat disgustedly into the garden.

“I’m home.”

Yasuko was standing behind him—when had she returned? “Have you been reading the diary and become angry?”

She smiled sweetly.

Shun Honjou glared and turned away.

“Feeling uncomfortable, aren’t you? Having all your secrets exposed? Ohohohoho! But no matter what you do out there, I won’t get angry in the slightest. Even though your eyes can’t see it, my spirit is always by your side, watching. That’s why I know everything, you know. And since I know that no matter what woman you take up with, you’ll ultimately come back to my arms because you love me most, I don’t feel any jealousy at all. Ohohohoho! It’s because you’re so adorable that I’m generously overlooking your little dalliances, you know.”

“Mind your own business! My body belongs to me. I don’t need your permission to do as I please! Having you second-guess every little thing is unbearable—most of all, it’s infuriating! You believe your own wild fantasies, but there’s no way you could actually know what I’m doing out there through common sense alone. Writing that sham of a fabricated diary—there’s a limit to how much you can insult someone! This is truly outrageous! First off, I can’t stand that surveillance of yours! Trying to control every aspect of a man’s freedom—keep your conceit in check. Anyway, that diary’s nothing but lies and nonsense—a fabricated smear campaign against me! I’ll be damned if I keep living with someone who looks down on me thinking I’m that sort of man!”

“Are you saying you want to leave me again?” “Of course I am! “I may like humans, but I detest monsters like you.” “How cruel of you to say such things. “If you leave me, I will die.” “When I die, my spirit will immediately enter your body, merge with your soul, and never part from you for eternity.”

Shun Honjou shuddered. “Have you come to hate me so much?” “The transferred call from the liquor store will be put through shortly, so please endure until then.” “And do go meet Miss Momoko for some distraction, then return home in good spirits.”

“What the hell are you spouting? I don’t know any woman named Momoko.”

“Have you forgotten? The typist who came to visit you when you were ill.”

As Shun Honjou turned away, sure enough, they came to relay the call from the liquor store.

He thrust his feet into the garden clogs there and fidgeted out, but the voice on the phone was Momoko. "That woman... She knows everything, damn her," he spat resentfully, but— "Anyway, I'm going. Last night's place, right?"

III

In contrast to last night's impeccably tailored smart attire, Honjou went to Viscount Okuda's rest area today wearing everyday clothes without a haori, his feet thrust into garden clogs. As she had apparently called from nearby, Momoko was already waiting in the tea room ahead of him.

When he saw her pallid face, Honjou's chest jolted. "Did they find out at home?" He voiced the first thought that surfaced in his mind.

“No, that’s not it.” “It’s not the household—your wife found out, didn’t she?” “What should I do?” She said in a trembling voice.

"How did you figure that out?" "A summons came from your wife this morning." "And I met with her."

“Where?” “In the reception room of that so-called Psychic Research Institute, I felt terribly creeped out.” “Women with piercing eyes walking down the corridor, people staring at me with those terrifying gazes—they were swarming everywhere, and my body just froze up.” “When I met your wife at your home, she had such a gentle face, but this morning she wore a grave expression with eyes that seemed to pierce my heart.” “If you do anything to lead Honjou astray—even if I were to forgive you—my guardian spirits would not.” “Because calamity will befall you, you must not repeat last night’s mistake.” “Cut ties quickly, and stop stealing others’ husbands to enter a proper marriage.” “...she said.”

“That’s meddlesome nonsense!” “I won’t let some words tear us apart!”

"But you know... I've been thinking." "How did you come to think that?"

He hurriedly asked.

“I’m frightened, you know.” “If she already knows about last night, then from now on, there’s nothing she won’t discover about us, right?” “I can’t simply say I’ve lost interest and be done with it, but... I can’t bear to continue this relationship under constant watch anymore.”

Shun Honjou also agreed with that.

“I’ll leave her. I’m resolutely divorcing Yasuko.”

Honjou declared resolutely.

Even now, as they were having this conversation, Yasuko might be at home, fully aware of it. To borrow her own words, perhaps her soul had detached from her physical body and was freely roaming about—invisible to the naked eye, yet possibly peering at them from somewhere in this room. Such an absurd thing couldn’t possibly be happening. Yet even as he dismissed the thought, Honjou found himself gripped by a disquieting sense of detachment—as if his very soul had slipped loose from his body.

“I just can’t stay calm—the thought that Madam’s terrifying eyes might be peering through even these shoji screen holes…”

“That’s impossible!” “I never thought you’d believe such unscientific things.” “They’re all delusions of the mind.” “Yasuko’s intuition may be sharp, but it’s baseless—it just happened to be right this time, which makes it suspicious. But even I could guess correctly to some extent if I let my imagination run wild.”

“Such empty comforts alone aren’t enough to reassure me.” “Your wife truly loves you, doesn’t she?” “Even when I see those fiery eyes blazing with passion, I can’t help but feel she won’t rest until she’s scorched your heart through and through.” “That’s a terrifying obsession!”

“So I’ll leave her.”

“Really?”

“There’s no truth or falsehood here. There’s no way to live except by leaving her.”

The relentless gaze tormented me. Well, just think about it. At any time, at any moment, she could be staring from somewhere—with everything laid bare—and when that someone was my wife, I couldn’t rest.

“I’m exhausted.”

He clutched his head in both hands and continued in a voice on the verge of tears. “Anyone desires a world of their own at times—no, needs it." "I need a world that only I know." “Without that, I cannot go on living.” "That is the heart." “As long as you don’t voice what’s in your heart, no one could possibly know it, right?” Even though I cherished that heart, if there existed someone who would infiltrate even its depths to steal away the thoughts I held alone—that would be unbearable. It was more excruciating than being forced to dance before the public eye day and night without respite. I was going to go mad. Divorcing my wife was the only path to salvation for me.

“If you separate from her, will that truly be enough?” “What more could there be beyond that? I’ll give her the house, the property—everything. I’ll leave Yasuko with nothing but the clothes on my back. Even if I’m gone, with that mansion and wealth, she shouldn’t struggle to make ends meet for the rest of her life. Because I don’t want to be accused of abandoning her to leave her destitute, I’ll hand over everything down to the last scrap. Then there’d be no grounds for complaint.” “But Madam—don’t you think she wants you yourself more than all your wealth?”

“Then what are you telling me I’m supposed to do?”

He said in an impatient tone that verged on anger.

“As for what to do… I don’t know, but I’m certain Madam will never consent to a divorce.” “If she insists on following me to the ends of the earth—and if she means to keep me financially shackled and tormented forever—”

The blood drained from his face, and greasy sweat oozed across the bridge of his nose. "If she says she absolutely won't leave... then I'll make her leave me permanently—so she can never cling to me again."

“So you mean…?” “What will you do?”

In the ominous atmosphere, Momoko, trembling and pale, asked.

“Hmm. “If that time comes—if that time comes, I’ll just kill her. “If I kill her, she’ll be completely separated from me. “No—that’s just a joke. “Ah ha ha ha!”

Momoko buried her face in his lap.

Above her head, Honjou’s hollow laughter continued.

IV

As if knowing exactly when Honjou would return home, Yasuko opened the door from within just as he was about to ring the bell, greeting him with a cheerful smile.

When he entered the tea room, the sake decanter had been poured to just the right level. She handed him the sake cup while, “Today went smoothly, didn’t it?” she said.

“What about?” “What about? Ohohohoho—the matter with Miss Momoko.” Honjou tightly pursed his lips. “Darling. “Have you finalized your plans to divorce me and marry that woman?” “You people have devised quite a cruel plan.” “But no matter what you proclaim, I refuse to separate.” Having said that, she sidled up to him, took his hand, pressed her lips to the cup he held, and took a sip.

“Come on, you have a drink too.” “I won’t.”

He slammed the sake cup down with a violent clatter.

“No wonder you’re repelled—your mind’s quite unhinged by now, I should think. Does it only taste good when Miss Momoko pours it for you?” “What are you saying?” “I’m simply asking.” “Is my affection too stifling?” “You ungrateful creature—have you forgotten whose influence secured such rapid promotion? Who obtained this exceptional position for someone as young as yourself?”

Placing her hand on his lap and continuing her relentless stare, “All of it—no, isn’t it thanks to the spirits?” “Without that, forget being an executive candidate—you’d be a low-ranking errand boy at best.” “Betraying someone as precious as myself just to be with that typist Miss Momoko—if you don’t stop spouting this nonsense about divorcing me or killing me, you’ll become the laughingstock of society.” Honjou brushed off the hand on his knee and shrugged his shoulders,

“Precisely because I acknowledged that debt, I’ve endured the unendurable until now. But I can’t bear it any longer—your smothering affection drives me mad. Your devoted service that anticipates every itch is nothing but an unwelcome nuisance turning my stomach. When I’m with you, my mind twists—I feel myself slipping into madness. I can’t withstand your gaze that pricks like a poisoned needle anymore. I want complete liberation from you—to breathe deep in freedom’s expanse. This life shackled by your invisible spirits, robbed of all liberty—I’ve grown thoroughly sick of it. Let’s separate. There exists no other path for me to live.”

“If I were to separate from you, I couldn’t go on living.” “I’ll give you enough to get by.” “That would mean your entire fortune, wouldn’t it?” “Ohohohoho! Such things mean nothing—it’s you I want.” “I want to take all of you—your body, your heart, everything.” Honjou suddenly hurled the sake cup in his hand at her face. “Enough of this!” “I’m merely expressing my desire.” He clattered his teeth together, “The wicked woman’s smothering affection—that’s you." "I’ve come to love an ordinary woman." “I despise women who get duped by vague spirits and psychic nonsense, always prying into people’s secrets.”

She took on a thickly clinging, entwining tone,

“What a pitiful state—to be so thoroughly detested, yet I find myself loving you beyond endurance.” “But if you think you can escape, go ahead and try.” “My spirit will leave my body, pursue you, and follow you anywhere—you see.”

“If you’re going to follow me, then come and try!” “I will go—look, my spirit is entering your heart—”

Yasuko stared with hollow eyes and pointed at his chest. “What?”

He suddenly stood up and, as if brushing someone away, frantically slapped at his chest area. As he kept hitting, he gradually lost his reason.

All he felt was an unbearable, overwhelming hatred for Yasuko standing before him. "If only she weren't here—" This single thought churned relentlessly through his mind.

He grabbed the sewing iron she had thrust into the brazier and struck her head with full force. "Agh!" "You—you really meant to kill me?" Falling backward while gazing up at Honjou—who still brandished the raised iron—with loving tenderness, "I've known all along you'd kill me." "But oh...how happy I am." "Look! Look how my spirit melts into your soul." "Our souls have perfectly aligned within your body." "We'll never part." "Even dead, my soul will live inside your heart."

“What the hell are you spouting?”

Beneath the iron swung down a second time, she could no longer make a sound.

He swung the iron wildly about as he whirled around the room.

“Her soul is inside this heart—yes—!” “Get out! Get out of here!”

He shrieked while continuing to pound his own chest. “Won’t you get out?! Get out! Get the hell out of here!” He writhed, shaking his body as if trying to dislodge something, pounding his chest all the while, then rushed out of the house and ran aimlessly through the streets.

At the very moment when the neighbor’s wife—who had come to deliver rationed goods—was horrified by Yasuko’s gruesome corpse and rushed to report it at the nearby police box, Honjou was apprehended as a madman by a passing officer.