Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

When leaving the company—since Momoko also had a companion—Honjo took a different train from her, but upon alighting at S Station, he was already there waiting. The two of them walked arm-in-arm through the evening-darkened streets for two or three blocks, then came to a stop before a large gate in the fire-scarred estate district.

Momoko widened her eyes and looked up at the pine branch adorning the gate, “You… this estate?” “Yeah. Wonderful, isn’t it? On my commute to work, I’d pass by here every day thinking what a fine house it was. This morning before leaving, I stopped by and got them to show me the room. The tea room in the detached quarters—truly exquisite! It’s run by some down-on-their-luck aristocrat as a side business—part inn, part retreat. No one from the company would ever sniff us out here.”

“But I—”

Momoko shrank back, “It’s not far from your house at all, is it? But right under her nose—what if your wife notices us before anyone from the company does?” “It’s darkest under the lighthouse. Going farther out would risk exposure. With this setup, even the missus—or even Buddha himself—wouldn’t find out.” The imposing structure made Momoko hesitate at the entrance, but as they lingered, an amateurish maid—having sensed their presence—emerged from within to guide them. Stepping on Tama River gravel, they were led through the Suzaku Gate on the right into the garden tea room.

As she gazed curiously at the tastefully arranged room, the same maid from before returned—deliberately clacking her garden clogs—bringing sake, beer, and some light snacks. “Should you need anything, please ring this bell here.”

At the wall where Honjo was sitting, a bell was attached. When the maid left, Momoko picked up the sake bottle, poured into Honjo’s cup, then drank beer herself.

“Surely your wife doesn’t know about you and me, does she?” “Probably not. When you came to visit me when I was sick, she praised you so effusively afterward that… Well, who knows.”

“Would you be in trouble if she found out?” Her eyes laughed.

“I’d be in trouble… “But there’s no help for it.” “It’s just that I can’t part with you, no matter what.” “But your wife is someone who would never forgive this, right?”

“Hmm. But—it’s better if she gets jealous. It’s painful having her just sit there staring at me without a word.” For some reason, Honjo made a face as if he were about to pout. As the alcohol took effect, a faint rosy hue spread across his fair, refined face, his eyes glistening from drink appearing beautiful. Momoko brought the glass to her lips while gazing enraptured at his face, “I love you, so even if your wife gets angry, I’ll never leave you unless you cast me aside.”

“My wife hasn’t even sniffed out our relationship yet. But that woman stays silent while constantly monitoring my every move. And when it comes to me, she’s trying to know everything from A to Z. She can’t be satisfied unless she knows everything—whether they’re good things or bad things. In other words, she’s an aberration.”

“Your wife must love you very much indeed.” “I might not be able to measure up to that.” “In the face of such devotion, I can only bow my head.” “I hate it!” “I thoroughly hate it.” “Just try to imagine!” “She knows everything—absolutely everything—and still acts completely oblivious! That’s what I’m saying!” “I hate it!”

He crushed his cigarette into the ashtray. “If she truly loves you, it’s only natural she’d want to know everything about you.” “But I don’t know what you’re doing when we’re apart.” “Of course I want to know, but——” “Why don’t you just ask?” “Even if I asked, wouldn’t it be pointless if you hid it?” “After all, even you must have things you don’t want to tell me.” “I know that could fuel jealousy, but if one could see through everything like your wife does, I don’t think they’d ever feel jealous at all.”

“Is that so?” “Well, for example—” “Even when we’re together like this, I can’t tell how deep your love really is.” “I can only imagine it through your words and attitude.” “But since your wife can see into the deepest corners of your heart, she probably feels no anxiety as long as she maintains her superior position.” “Even if you took another woman, she might stay perfectly calm.” “In other words—because she’s the dominant one.” “Because she’s absolutely certain she’s loved——”

“She must find sharing affection unpleasant—don’t you want it all for yourself?” “I like to think I’ve monopolized both your body and mind, but what’s the truth?” “Seeing how your wife never shows jealousy makes me uneasy.” "My wife— “She keeps me chained up but lets me play around however she likes.” “Treats me like her damned pet dog.” “What a vile creature.” He spat out the words.

“But didn’t you say your wife was quite helpful back when you were newlyweds?” “That was useful.” “That’s the mystery of her damned Seventh Sense.” “Thanks to that, dangers got averted, and I kept getting promoted like crazy with the higher-ups’ favor.” “Handy at first, but now that sense has turned into a pain.” “The reason she knows every last thing? That Seventh Sense of hers got way too sharp.” “And lately, it’s been honing itself even keener.” “If this keeps up, I’ll be choking so bad I can’t stay with her.” “I’ll lose my damn mind!”

“The passion intense enough to drive you mad—I envy it. Your wife—” “What are you saying? If you weren’t here, I couldn’t go on living. If it were just my wife, I’d have killed myself ages ago.” “Since I don’t even have a sixth sense, let alone a seventh—just utterly ordinary and clueless—that must be why your shoulders don’t stiffen around me. Isn’t it nice and easy for you?”

“The only time I’m in heaven is when I’m with you like this.”

Honjo sprang up and peeked into the next room. A pale blue-shaded lamp that looked cool stood by the pillow, and through the white linen mosquito net, the crimson-trimmed futon appeared alluring. He slid the fusuma door firmly shut and, edging closer to Momoko, placed his hand on her shoulder to pull her close, “Listen, every part of me is yours.”

The hand holding Momoko’s glass trembled violently. “No.” “The beer will spill.”

With that, she brought the half-drunk glass to his lips.

II

When leaving home, he had said he might be late due to a banquet, so when he returned close to midnight and found his wife Yasuko showed no signs of suspicion, he inwardly sighed with relief and kept chattering on about trivial matters he needn’t have mentioned.

“It might be due to the membership fees, but the alcohol was terrible.” “After all, nothing beats a good evening drink at home.” Yasuko cast a sidelong glance at his face. Five years his senior, she always wore heavy makeup and flashy attire, seemingly concerned about maintaining her balance with him. “Even if you flatter me and pester me for more alcohol afterward, it’s no use.” “You’ve already had quite a lot.” “It’s poison.”

Yet even as she said this, she poured out the rationed beer she had reserved for him.

Yasuko looked 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 research institute for my spiritual training. I'll return before you wake up—"

Honjo made a bitter face,

“Cut it out already. Training this, training that—what are you trying to accomplish? If that sense of yours develops any further, I’ll be at my limit.” “But I have such splendid psychic gifts. I must train and hone them—it’d be wasteful not to. And if you were ever to lose your job, I’d become a spirit medium, make piles of money, and let you lounge about in idle luxury.”

“Fool!” “Don’t jinx me!” “A thirty-two-year-old like me getting unemployed now? Not a chance!” “It’s only just beginning!” “Yes, yes. I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry for bringing up unnecessary matters while you’re exhausted. If I’ve offended you, please forgive me.” “Well then, I shall retire first. Please do reminisce about continuing your banquet while you drink.”

Yasuko snapped the fusuma shut and left. The words she had said—"reminisce about the continuation of the banquet"—lingered in his mind, troubling him.

“She had the nerve to say ‘while you’re exhausted’...”

Honjo muttered in a low voice while glaring at her through the fusuma.

He drank clean through the only two bottles of beer and went to bed at some unknown hour, but when he awoke, Yasuko was gone. A good deal of time must have passed since she left, for breakfast was laid out on the tea room table with a white lace cover draped over it—though the morning’s rice had gone completely cold, and the miso soup was watery. After finishing breakfast and sipping tea, he idly glanced at his wife’s desk—always meticulously tidy—only to find today an exception: the household ledger lay carelessly open, a fountain pen sprawled across her diary.

“Huh.” “That wife of mine has the nerve to keep a diary? How insolent—” Honjo decided to sneak a look at what Yasuko had written. “A wife’s diary is utterly trivial. “Either complaints about tight finances or gripes about her husband—it’s gotta be one of those.”

Sneering, he flipped through a few pages, but when his eyes fell to the last page, he froze in shock.

September 10th, Saturday Lately I heard the Okuda Viscount’s household had covertly opened an inn. Thinking this would be perfect for today’s rendezvous and that she would surely be satisfied with it, I checked briefly before leaving and found it relatively inexpensive. The room suited my tastes, and since I had left home under the pretense of attending a banquet with my wife, there was no need to worry about my return time—everything fell perfectly into place. On my way home from work, I accompanied her. Since she feared my wife’s piercing gaze, I did my utmost to berate my wife and comfort her. The two of us vowed never to part ways; I saw her off at the station and returned home—it was a quarter to twelve.

Honjo clawed at his head. That damn wife of mine knows everything again. This isn't my wife's diary—this is a diary of Honjo himself written by his wife? She's mocking me. However, I'm utterly shocked she already knows about last night. And yet she's pretending not to know a thing—what a cunning one she is. "Fiend! Demonic Woman!"

He slammed down the diary.

But, concerned, he picked it up again and skimmed through the earlier entries.

“August 6th, Saturday Even I had to admit being overwhelmed by this older woman’s terrifying passion. She was originally someone else’s wife who abandoned both her husband and social standing to throw herself into my arms. Now to have this framed as if I seduced her was utterly galling. I’d been defeated by her scorching ardor and ended up marrying her, but Yasuko’s Sixth Sense—no, Seventh Sense, as she insisted—had actually been quite useful at first.

For example, if I were to say, “There will be staff reductions at the company soon—watch out,” within four or five days some poor sap would inevitably get fired.

She would say that if I didn't leave a bit later for work today, there'd be a train accident and it'd be dangerous. Even if I thought it was nonsense and left a bit later, the earlier train would have derailed, causing injuries and commotion—truly, she possessed the mysterious Seventh Sense entirely distinct from our ordinary six senses. Who was it that said that since she possessed such abundant spiritual power, if she honed it, she could become someone formidable enough to see through anything? Flattered by this, she diligently began her so-called spiritual research. In truth, it seems she began this research out of an ambition to observe my actions whenever I was away from her. If I were to state her true feelings without reserve, they lie in her desire to wholly monopolize me, Honjo Toshi, and to know my every action from start to finish. Lately, she could no longer be satisfied with merely knowing. It seems she burns with a desire to scrutinize my body from the hairs on my head to the nails on my toes—no, if possible, to tear open my skin, extract my entrails, and examine even my heart. However, she must not kill me. Since letting her die would result in killing herself as well, I inevitably feel the need for spiritual means. By the power of her spirit, she attempts to probe my true heart. "And to never neglect maintaining a watchful eye at all times."

Honjo snapped the diary shut and stood up.

“Go to hell!” “Psychic powers? What of them?” “The spirit’s strength? What’s that supposed to be?” “You damned fool!”

He spat into the garden.

“I’m home.”

Yasuko was standing behind him—when had she returned? “Have you been reading the diary and gotten angry?” She smiled sweetly.

Honjo growled and turned away. “You feel uncomfortable, don’t you? Everything’s been found out? Ohohohoho! But no matter what you do outside, I won’t get angry at all. By your side—though invisible to your eyes—my spirit is always there watching over you. That’s why I know everything. And no matter what woman you take up with, I know you’ll always love me best and come back to my arms in the end. That’s why I don’t feel jealous at all. Ohohohoho! It’s because you’re so cute that I’m generously overlooking your dalliances.”

“That’s none of your business.” “My body is my own.” “I don’t need your permission to do as I please! Having you second-guess every little thing I do is unbearable—and above all, it’s infuriating. You’re convinced by your own delusional fantasies, but there’s no way you could actually know what I’m doing outside—use some common sense! Writing that sham of a fabricated diary—it’s beyond insulting.” “Utterly outrageous, I say!” “First of all, I can’t stand that presumptuous oversight of yours.” “Thinking you can make a man entirely your own—keep your delusions of grandeur in check.” “In any case, that diary written there is all lies and nonsense—fabricated slander about me! Living with you who think of me as such a person and look down on me is absolutely out of the question!”

“Are you saying you want to leave me again?”

“Isn’t that obvious? I like humans, but I hate monsters like you.” “You say such cruel things.” “If you were to leave me, I would die.” “When I die, my soul will immediately enter your body, merge with your spirit, and never part from you for eternity.”

Honjo shuddered. “Have you come to hate me so much?” “The call from the liquor store will be coming through any moment now—do bear with it a little longer.” “Then go meet Ms. Momoko to take your mind off things and return home in better spirits.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” “I don’t know any woman called Momoko.”

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

As Honjo turned away, sure enough, the call from the liquor store was put through.

He thrust his feet into the garden geta there and left restlessly, but the voice on the phone was Momoko.

“That damn woman knows everything.” he said resentfully, but

“Anyway, I’ll go. “Last night’s place, right?”

III

In stark contrast to last night’s impeccably smart attire, Honjo went to Lord Okuda’s resting quarters today wearing everyday clothes—no haori over his shoulders, garden geta on his feet. It appeared he had called from nearby; at the tea room, Momoko had arrived first and was waiting.

When he saw her pale face, Honjo’s chest jolted. “Did your family find out?”

He said the first thing that came to mind. “No, that’s not it. “It’s not my family—your wife found out, didn’t she?” “Oh—what should I do?”

She said in a trembling voice.

“How did *you* find that out?” “Your wife sent someone to fetch me this morning.” “And I met her.”

“Where?” “At that Psychic Research Institute place—in their reception room. It felt so eerie.” “Women with intense stares walked through the corridors, people glared at me with piercing eyes—they were everywhere, and my whole body went stiff.” “When I met your wife at your home before, she looked so kind, but this morning she wore a severe expression and fixed those eyes on me—eyes that seemed to stab right through my heart.” “‘If you do anything to lead Honjo astray,’ she said, ‘even if I were to forgive you—which I won’t—my guardian spirit certainly wouldn’t.’” “‘Misfortune will befall you if you repeat last night’s mistake again.’” “‘End this quickly. Stop stealing another’s husband and make a proper marriage instead.’” “...that’s what she told me.”

“What unnecessary meddling. As if I’d let mere words tear us apart!” “But… I’ve been thinking.” “What have you been thinking?”

He asked hurriedly. “It’s so frightening. “If she already knows about last night’s affair, then going forward, won’t she find out absolutely everything? “I shouldn’t say I’ve lost interest, but I just can’t bring myself to continue seeing each other under her surveillance.”

Honjo agreed with that as well.

“I’m leaving Yasuko. I’m resolutely divorcing her.”

Honjo declared flatly.

Even now, as they were speaking of this,Yasuko might have been at home already knowing every word. Or，to borrow her own words，her soul might have detached from her body and been roaming freely—invisible to the naked eye，yet perhaps peering at them from some corner of this very room.

"There’s no way such an absurd thing could be happening." Even as he dismissed the thought, Honjo found himself gripped by a disquiet where his mind seemed unmoored from his body. "I just can’t stay calm—whenever I think those terrifying eyes of your wife might be peering at us even through the holes in this shoji screen."

“That’s impossible. I never thought you’d believe such unscientific things. It’s all delusions of the mind. Yasuko’s intuition is sharp, but they’re just wild guesses—they happened to align this time by chance, making it seem suspicious. But even I could get some things right if I stretched my imagination enough.”

“Such empty reassurances won’t calm me.” “Your wife does love you terribly, doesn’t she?” “When I see those blazing eyes of hers—eyes burning with jealous fire—I feel they won’t stop until they’ve charred your very soul to cinders.” “What dreadful obsession!”

“That’s why I’m leaving her.” “Really?” “There’s no truth or falsehood to it.” “The only path left for me to keep living is to leave her.” “The constant staring had tormented me.” “Just try to imagine it.” “Always, always being watched intently from somewhere, having everything exposed—when that watcher is your own wife, I could never find rest.” “I’ve been worn down to nothing.”

He clutched his head in both hands and continued in a tearful voice. “Everyone needs time alone in their own world—needs that space.” “I need a realm that only I can know.” “Without that, I can’t go on living.” “That is the mind itself.” “What’s in your mind stays hidden unless you voice it—isn’t that how it should be?” “Even though I cherished that mind, having someone sneak into its very depths to steal the thoughts I keep to myself is unbearable.” “More excruciating than being forced to perform before the public eye without respite.” “I’m going to go mad.” “Divorcing my wife is the only path to salvation for me.”

“If you part ways, will that truly settle everything?”

“What more could there be? “I’ll give her the house, the estate, all my assets—everything—and leave Yasuko with nothing but the clothes on my back. “Even if I’m gone, with that mansion and all the assets, she won’t have trouble putting food on the table for the rest of her life. “I don’t want to be accused of leaving her destitute, so I’ll hand over every last thing I have. “Then she can’t possibly complain.” “But don’t you think your wife wants you yourself more than all your wealth?”

“Then what the hell am I supposed to do?”

He said in an impatient, angry tone. “As for what to do... I don’t know, but I’m certain she won’t agree to a divorce.” “If she insists on following me to the ends of the earth—and if she intends to keep me financially shackled and tormented forever—” His complexion drained away, and greasy sweat beaded on the tip of his nose. “If she says she absolutely won’t leave, then I’ll make sure she’s permanently separated from me—so she can never cling to me again.”

“And what do you mean by that?” “What will you do?” In the ominous air, Momoko turned pale with fear and asked.

“Right.” “At that point—at that point… I’ll just kill her.” “If I kill her… she’ll be completely separated from me.” “No… That’s a joke.” “Ahahahaha.”

Momoko buried her face in his lap.

Above her head, Honjo's hollow laughter continued.

4

As if Yasuko knew exactly when Honjo would return, just as he was about to ring the entrance bell, she opened the door from within and greeted him with a cheerful smile.

When they entered the tearoom, 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?” “What do you mean ‘what?’ Ohohohoho—about Ms. Momoko.”

Honjo pressed his lips together tightly.

“Hey. “Have you settled your plans to leave me and marry her?” “What a cruel scheme you’ve concocted.” “But no matter what you say, I won’t be separated from you.” With that, she sidled up to him, clasped his hand, pressed her lips to the sake cup he held, and took a sip.

“Hey, you should have a drink too.”

“No.” He slammed the sake cup down with a clatter.

“Of course you’d hate it—you’re already losing your grip.” “It doesn’t taste right unless Ms. Momoko pours it for you, does it?”

“What are you talking about?” “I’m just asking.” “You find my love suffocating?” “You’re such an ingrate—who do you think is responsible for your rapid promotion and high position at such a young age? Have you forgotten?”

Placing her hand on his knee and continuing her persistent stare, “Isn’t it all thanks to me—no, to the spirit?” “Without that, you wouldn’t even be a candidate for director—at best, you’d still be some lowly errand boy.” “To betray someone as precious as me just because you want to be with someone like Ms. Momoko—if you don’t stop your grand declarations about leaving me or killing me, you’ll become the laughingstock of society.” Honjo brushed off the hand on his knee and shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s precisely because I felt that debt of gratitude that I’ve kept enduring the unendurable until today.” “But I can’t take it anymore—your smothering affection is driving me mad.” “Your devoted service, anticipating my every need, is nothing but an unwelcome nuisance that turns my stomach.” “When I’m with you, my mind twists itself into knots—I feel like I’ll snap any moment.” “I can’t stand your stare anymore—it pierces like a poisoned needle.” “I want to break free from you completely and breathe deep in a world of freedom.” “I’ve grown sick to death of this life shackled by your invisible ‘spirits,’ robbed of all liberty.” “Let’s end this.” “There’s no other way left for me to live.”

“If I separate from you, I cannot go on living.” “I’ll give you enough to live on.”

“Your entire fortune, isn’t it? Ohohohoho! It’s not such things I want—it’s you. Both your body and your heart—I want to claim every part of you for myself.” Honjo suddenly hurled the cup he was holding at her face.

“Cut it out!”

“I’m stating my wish.”

He ground his teeth with a clattering sound,

“The wicked woman’s deep affection—that’s you. “I’ve come to love an ordinary woman. “I hate women who get led astray by elusive spirits and spiritualism and keep trying to pry into people’s secrets.”

Her voice took on a cloying, clinging tone.

“Even though you detest me so, how pitiful it is that I love you unbearably—love you beyond measure.” “But if you think you can escape, go ahead and try.” “My spirit will leave my body and pursue you—I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth.”

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

Yasuko stared with vacant eyes and pointed at his chest.

“Huh?” He sprang to his feet and began battering his chest area as though swatting away invisible assailants. With each frantic blow, his rationality slipped further away. All he knew was an overwhelming loathing for Yasuko standing before him.

“If only this woman weren’t here—” The thought alone swirled violently in his mind.

He grabbed the sewing iron she had thrust into the brazier and struck her head with all his strength.

“Ah!” “You—you really intended to kill me?”

As he fell backward while still raising the iron to strike down, Yasuko gazed up at him affectionately— “I had known all along that you would kill me.” “But oh, how happy I am.” “Ah, look! I can see my spirit melting into your soul.” “Your soul and my soul had completely merged within your body.” “They will never part.” “Even if I die, my soul will live on within your heart.”

“What the hell are you saying?!”

Under the iron struck down a second time, she could no longer make a sound.

While wildly swinging the iron about him like a madman’s scepter，he whirled round and round through every corner of the room． “Her soul’s inside this heart—yes！ Get out！ Out with you！”

He screamed while continuing to beat 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, beat his chest, rushed out of the house, and ran aimlessly through the streets.

The wife from the neighboring house, who had come to deliver rationed goods, was horrified upon discovering Yasuko’s gruesome corpse and rushed to report it to the nearby police box—at that very moment, Honjo was apprehended by a passing officer as a madman.