Pathway to Japanese Literature

The Diamond in the Pocket

Yōko rose unusually early， finished morning makeup， stretched both legs out on the veranda’s rattan chair， and was sipping cocoa while glancing repeatedly at the wristwatch.

When the parlor clock struck nine, as if on cue, the entrance bell rang—the student servant announced that jeweler Sugimura had arrived. Though presenting himself as a jeweler, Sugimura was in truth a loan shark who secretly made rounds among wealthy women. Since he also handled exchanges of rings and watches, he was valued as a useful asset. With practiced charm, he showered compliments while slowly taking rings one by one from his briefcase to arrange on the table whenever the maid bustled in and out delivering tea and sweets—but once she was out of sight, he produced another item from his inner pocket,

“They say this was purchased in Paris—the cut is modern too, and a gem of this superior quality is exceedingly rare.” “How does this strike you?” “I believe 2,500 yen would be quite reasonable—”

A ring set with a pure white diamond that appeared to be at least three carats. Yōko tried it on her slender, waxwork-like finger and gazed intently. I want it—I want it so much! Yet she unfortunately possessed no jewels valuable enough to exchange for this ring. If she truly wished to obtain it, she would need to provide a substantial cash deposit. For a twenty-one-year-old young wife married barely six months, procuring such funds proved rather difficult. She wanted it desperately, achingly—but restraint was necessary; instead she resolved to borrow a marquise ring for her pinky, finalizing the deal by supplementing her ruby ring with some cash.

Sugimura was putting the rings into his briefcase while, “I hear there is to be a grand ball hosted by the American tourist group.” “You’ll be attending, won’t you?” “Yes, since I’ve received an invitation, I plan to go.” “For that purpose—you all must be going through such trouble.” “This is strictly between us—most of our superior pieces have already been reserved for the occasion.” Even after Sugimura left, the three-carat diamond lingered before Yōko’s eyes. To think that someone of her standing as Viscountess Umeda didn’t possess even a single diamond of that caliber—how pitiful—Yōko mused while absently gazing at the garden, wanting desperately to acquire one somehow, when hurried footsteps sounded on the engawa veranda and her second elder brother from her maiden family, Hiramatsu Haruki, came visiting.

“Oh! Brother.” When she saw her brother’s face, a childlike urge to seek comfort welled up in her, and tears came to her eyes for no particular reason. "I want the diamond," nearly spilled from her lips, but Yōko clamped down on the words and bit her lip. That was something she must not say—if Haruki, who so doted on his sister, learned how desperately she wanted it, he would never stand idly by. No matter what unreasonable means he might resort to, he would undoubtedly bring her the diamond—but that very unreasonableness terrified her.

“Brother, you’re going to the ball too, aren’t you?” “I hear many Western women will be attending, so it must be quite beautiful, I imagine.” “Since they say over half are Americans, the diamonds must be dancing around like crazy.” “You’d better not wear any jewelry there.” “If you go wearing a cheap ring, it’ll just make you look shabbier.” Yōko was staring fixedly in thought, seemingly oblivious to her brother’s words, but then—as if struck by some realization—suddenly perked up and rose to her feet.

“I’d given up thinking I couldn’t buy it anyway, but—Brother, I’m going to Mitsukoshi now. They accept end-of-month payments—when the time comes, I’ll manage somehow.” I’d just had a brilliant idea! I’ll go to Mitsukoshi—see the diamond and come back. “I’ve decided!”

“Idiot! I told you to stop—a tiny diamond would look pathetic—” “So—I’ll buy a big one!” she declared, darting briskly into the dressing room, dabbing her face with a powder puff, slipping into her coat, and emerging bubbling with excitement. Haruki smiled wryly and lit a cigarette. “Well then, maybe I’ll come along too.”

The two of them left together. In front of Mitsukoshi, Yōko parted from her brother and stepped into the elevator with light footsteps. She was no longer thinking about anything but the diamond. Upon exiting the elevator, she headed straight for the jewelry department without so much as a glance around. When she peered into the show window, a large diamond immediately caught her eye. In the center, surrounded by many rings, it shone like a queen. It was a far more splendid piece than what Sugimura had shown her. She promptly summoned a familiar clerk and, while tapping her fingertip rhythmically on the glass,

“Could you show me this ring?” she said. The clerk handed Yōko the ring with its 5,800-yen price tag dangling from it and showed her five or six others that might catch her fancy; she tried each one on her finger, entranced, but still found herself most taken with the first 5,800-yen piece that had caught her eye. When she thought I want it, a sigh escaped unbidden. What should I do about the money? When I think—if I can’t pay when the time comes—everything goes dark before my eyes. But—it’ll work out somehow! Never mind—I’ll buy it! Her face grew flushed, and as she stared fixedly at the diamond, her head grew foggy. Suddenly coming to her senses with a start, she thought again. What would I do by acting so recklessly? There’s no way I can possibly come up with that much money—if I entertain such a reckless idea, the end of the month will be disastrous—I really have no choice but to give up. She reluctantly removed the ring, placed it into the box, and weakly tried to return it, but found that the clerk who had been beside her was nowhere to be seen. When she looked around, there was a woman beside her who was similarly engrossed in a ring. At first glance, she looked so much like a Westerner that one might have thought she was one; her Western attire perfectly suited her, and everything from her hat to her shoes was a grayish hue. She was tall, slim, and of a pleasing figure. Yōko gazed at her intently. Perhaps because she had stared too intently, the woman slipped swiftly away. Just then, the clerk returned, so she handed over the ring,

“I’ll come back another time.” “There’s one I like—well, there is one, but…” she said dejectedly as she left Mitsukoshi.

As she walked around Ginza evening fell so she hailed a cheap taxi and returned home but felt so dejected that even taking off the coat felt like a bother. The more she thought about it the more her spirits sank. "Oh I want that diamond!"

Along with a sigh, it slipped out—then suddenly ashamed, she blushed and stood up, grabbing a handkerchief from her pocket—*clink!*

Something had fallen to the floor. "Oh!" she thought, and when she looked, a small whitish gleaming object tumbled over and over before coming to rest by the wall in the corner of the room, where it caught the electric light and flashed brightly into her eyes.

It's the diamond! The diamond ring! It was the 5,800-yen ring she had clearly handed over to the Mitsukoshi clerk. She felt a jolt of electricity surge from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, her body stiffening until she couldn't move a muscle. Why was that diamond inside her pocket? I want it! Could it have tumbled in, drawn by the sheer mental force of that moment when she'd so deeply convinced herself she wanted it? Such a thing was unthinkable—she couldn't believe it possible—but she had once witnessed something called psychic object attraction performed by a spiritualist. If such a thing were actually possible—or perhaps—

Yōko grew afraid. At any moment, wouldn’t Mitsukoshi come demanding answers? Even if she hadn’t done it consciously, hadn’t someone seen her slipping it into the pocket? What should I do if I'm sued? Should I go return it after all? ——That’s strange too. Instead, they might suspect me. Then—should I stay silent and pretend ignorance—?

She wrapped the ring in Japanese paper, tucked it deep into the back of a drawer in the wardrobe where no one would see it, locked it with its key, and stepped out onto the veranda intending to cool her feverish head. Should she confide in the husband and consult him? But that too was worrying. There was no telling how he—so fastidious—might misunderstand.

And there was one more heartache that stabbed at Yōko's chest. It concerned none other than her brother.

Haruki was handsome, excelled academically, and was talented, but for some reason, he had a penchant for stealing since childhood. But according to him, it went like this: "People of the world are all fools—a complete pack of idiots. They’re full of holes, so they get stolen. Even though their faces practically beg you to steal from them, they brush aside their own carelessness and have the gall to call others kleptomaniacs—it’s utterly absurd!" She understood that feeling well. Moreover, Haruki stole things not because he intended to do anything with them—he simply found it thrilling to secretly snatch away items that others carefully kept on their persons. In that moment, he felt an indescribable exhilaration, and it was just to savor this sensation that he kept committing crimes. Yet once he stole something, that was the end of it; having no attachment to the items, he would look up the owners’ addresses and send them back. No one would ever suspect that the second son of Viscount Hiramatsu was a thief—he had thought that only his sister knew. However, that thrilling game should have ended cleanly on the day Yōko married into the Umeda family. But if kleptomania were hereditary—if it had sprouted unnoticed somewhere in her heart—the thought made her writhe in unbearable anguish.

The gray-clad woman Yōko awoke from a dream of being summoned by the police. The gauze nightgown clung to her skin with sweat.

Her husband got up and was reading the newspaper. Wondering if something had been reported, she peeked up from under her lashes to gauge his expression.

“You were saying something in your sleep.”

Startled, she turned her face away, composed herself, and then nonchalantly, “Is there anything… interesting in the newspaper?” she asked.

“Hmm.” “There’s an article titled ‘The Subway Attacker’ about a pickpocket gang being arrested, and it has a photo of Detective Yamanishi who caught them. This guy actually came to my company the other day and talked with me for a while, so I know him well,” he said, reading aloud from the newspaper article. Since he knew the detective, he seemed to take particular interest in the matter, but Yōko felt an inexplicable unease. But thinking it would be wrong to remain silent,

“What kind of person is Detective Yamanishi?” she asked flatteringly. “He’s still young, but quite a capable man. He’s the department’s foremost handsome man with a womanly gentle face—among thieves, he’s known as Oni Yamanishi.” “Calling such a beautiful person ‘Oni’ is just pitiable!” Yōko wanted to put an end to that conversation, so she glanced at the alarm clock and, “Oh! It’s already past eight!” she exclaimed in surprise, sprang up, and hurried out of the bedroom. In the large full-length mirror of the adjoining room, her face appeared deathly pale. Her head throbbed with pain.

When my husband went out, I would go to my parents’ home and consult Haruki. When it came to matters like this, he understood better than anyone. He would help me, and he would surely offer good advice.

She concealed her inner torment and put on a spirited front. After seeing her husband off at the entrance, she immediately tried calling her parents’ home, but her brother had not yet risen. After leaving word that an urgent matter required her to visit later, she moved to exit the telephone room—only to find a maid waiting before the door, “A lady has come who insists on seeing you, Madam.”

Yōko somehow started and,

“What?” “A lady, you say?” “What’s her name?” “She didn’t give her name, but she says you’ll recognize her when you meet—she’s a friend from school—” “What does she look like?” “A modern, tall lady with large, beautiful eyes.” “The gray Western-style dress suited her extremely well—” As she listened, her knees began to tremble violently.

The gray-clad woman! Tall, with large eyes—that must have been her. At Mitsukoshi’s jewelry department, she had been staring at rings just like I was—but hadn’t she been a customer? Around the Western Clothing Department, you often saw modern women like that—maybe she had been one of the clerks after all. The more she thought about it, the more anxious she grew. Even Mitsukoshi couldn’t act rashly toward someone of her standing as Viscountess Umeda—perhaps they’d first sent a clerk to handle things discreetly.

Without even asking what the matter was, and forgetting her husband’s usual admonitions about not meeting strangers, she had the unknown woman—who hadn’t even given her name—shown into the parlor.

“Tea will suffice. Don’t come until I ring the bell,” she unintentionally snapped, her heart pounding as Yōko swiftly opened the parlor door. Indeed— The Gray-Clad Woman was smiling cordially as she bowed, “I must apologize for yesterday. It was so sudden—you must have been quite startled, I imagine?” she said familiarly. Yōko wanted to get to the point quickly, so she simply, “No,” she said with a smile, then fell silent.

The gray-clad woman struck a match and lit her cigarette with deft hands. Her heart raced with apprehension about what the woman might say next as she watched the trail of smoke, when the gray-clad woman suddenly thrust her half-smoked cigarette into the ashtray and— “The matter I came to discuss so abruptly—Madam—you must have already realized?”

She grinned slyly with meaningful eyes. Yōko’s lips trembled as she lowered her gaze to her knees. "What do you mean? I—I don’t..." she answered in a faint voice. "Oh? You still haven’t realized, Madam?" "What I entrusted to you yesterday—I’ve come to retrieve it." "?"

“Ohoho! Playing dumb, are we? Madam, you’re being quite wicked, aren’t you? That diamond ring—I put it in your pocket—” She was so shocked that it seemed as if her breath had stopped. Was the diamond ring this woman’s? “Ohohoho! There’s no need to be so shocked. You know nothing. No—you’ve done nothing wrong at all. I stole that diamond and borrowed your pocket for a moment. It’s something we in the trade often do, but—borrowing from an amateur like you—this is my first time. Please return it, won’t you?”

Yōko was momentarily stunned, but upon realizing this woman wasn’t a Mitsukoshi clerk or anything of the sort—she was a female pickpocket—she felt somewhat relieved. Once the thief was identified, there should be no reason for suspicion to fall on me. If Mitsukoshi says anything about it, I can just tell them about this woman. She returned the ring and let out a sigh of relief. The gray-clad woman looked pleased as she placed it on her palm and gazed at it, “Madam, if you’re astonished by someone like me’s skills, that simply won’t do, you know.” “You’ll of course be attending tomorrow night’s ball, but I hear there’s a world-class pickpocket master among that tourist group.” “They say she’s an extraordinary beauty—a lady so noble-looking that no one could see her as anything else. After all, she’s practically worshipped like a queen by pickpockets worldwide. Isn’t that marvelous?” “I’d also like to at least catch a glimpse of her myself—”

All formality had vanished from her manner, her tone now as casual as if addressing a fellow conspirator. Despite having been so fixated on that diamond, somehow she no longer wanted it at all now. After returning it, she instead felt unburdened, her heart so light it was nearly buoyant.

As soon as the gray-clad woman left, Yōko went to the family home, met Haruki, and told him about the events from the previous night,

“I handed over the diamond, but—do you think it’s all right? I keep worrying—what if I’m charged as an accessory—” “As long as you’re not caught in the act, you’re fine. Of course, if you had a prior record it’d be different—but she’s that caliber of woman—no need to worry. And hey, they say there’s some world-class one mixed in with the tourist group? How thrilling! Think you could introduce me to her?” Haruki’s eyes sparkled as he spoke.

world-class master

The grand ball welcoming the tourist group was held in the grand hall of the Grand Hotel.

Hiramatsu Haruki, dressed in stylish attire, hurried to the venue accompanied by his beautifully adorned sister Yōko. At the entrance, a dozen or so gentlemen and ladies from the host’s side stood lined up in a row, receiving the guests. Yōko hesitated as if slightly intimidated but, glancing at her brother, spoke quickly. “Everyone is so splendid—I feel awkward—please take off this necklace quickly.” Haruki forced a wry smile,

“You’re such an idiot.” “That’s why I told you to stop.”

As he said this, he took off the clasp of the ruby- and pearl-studded necklace for her.

Yōko stood ahead of Haruki and passed along the front of the row while greeting each person individually. When she reached the middle of the line, she casually glanced at the next woman’s face. Her legs froze in shock. Wasn’t that the gray-clad woman she had met yesterday? Moreover, the diamond glittering on her left finger—that was unmistakably familiar. Why would a pickpocket be standing there as one of the hosts? As Yōko stood petrified in utter bewilderment, the woman grasped her hand with a cheerful smile and said amiably, “My apologies for yesterday—how wonderful you could come tonight,” then introduced her to the adjacent lady as Viscountess Umeda. Haruki, being behind his sister, shook hands with and introduced himself to this unknown gray-clad woman.

When they passed through the line and entered the hall, Yōko looked around and leaned in close to her brother’s ear.

“This is serious! Brother. That gray-clad woman is a pickpocket!” “Huh? But she was standing in the organizers’ receiving line. It’s just mistaken identity—carelessly calling someone a thief will land you in major trouble!” “But――she did say ‘excuse me’ yesterday. It certainly isn’t a mistake.” “If that’s really true—how thrilling!—I’ll go see what kind of woman she is,” he declared, ignoring attempts to stop him as he turned back toward the entrance.

Yōko watched her brother’s retreating figure in exasperation, but soon made her way to their group. Haruki’s chic appearance and suave social graces appealed to the Westerners, making him especially popular among the young women. The dance cards were filled with reservations in no time. The choking perfume, cloying skin fragrances, soft-looking napes, and creamy décolletages gave him no thrill, but the diamonds’ allure stirred a terrifying temptation that sometimes made him lose self-control. As Haruki kept his eyes away from the jewels and danced through the hall, he repeatedly circled back to the gray-clad woman. First came silent bows, then exchanged smiles, until finally they grew familiar enough to signal each other with their eyes. Those eyes spoke volumes. Whenever their gazes locked unexpectedly, a shiver ran through Haruki. Was she Japanese? Western? Perhaps mixed-race? Whatever her origins, those eyes held a mysterious magnetism.

It was said that a world-class pickpocket master was among them, yet all appeared upstanding with not a single suspicious individual in sight. Still determined to uncover her identity, Haruki kept scrutinizing each successive woman he partnered with. The moment the clock struck twelve, a drum sounded to announce dinner. As soon as they set down their dessert forks, the music resumed. While muttering about being rushed off their feet, everyone—seemingly in high spirits—tossed their napkins onto tables and hurried back to the hall. Steadying his champagne-emboldened legs between dances with the gray-clad woman, Haruki next took the hand of a silver-haired noblewoman—this ostentatiously wealthy matron wore a gaudy necklace ill-suited to her age, its large diamond pendant dangling conspicuously from her chest and glittering with vulgar brilliance.

Fueled by alcohol-induced boldness, he had grown utterly daring; while pretending to be engrossed in dancing, he used the hand he had slipped behind his back to fumble at the thin chain biting into her neck, undid the clasp—and before he knew it, had smoothly slipped the necklace into his pocket. The silver-haired noblewoman had been dancing in such high spirits that she remained completely unaware. After several dances had passed, she suddenly noticed the diamond on her chest was gone and began making a commotion.

Suddenly, the hall buzzed with commotion, and the manager—his face pale with bewilderment—escorted the silver-haired noblewoman to a separate room. “What’s happening?” they asked and answered from one person to the next, and rumors spread instantly. The noblewomen, as if by prior agreement, checked again to see if their own jewels had gone missing. “Because she was quite intoxicated from the champagne.” said one of them. “Might she not have dropped it somewhere?”

“No.” “It was stolen, you know.” “That lady’s an American millionaire, they say.” The ball completely lost its spark.

**NECKLACE**

Around the time when the commotion over the lost necklace was unfolding, Hiramatsu Haruki was merrily drinking at the basement bar. He was somehow unbearably happy. He would grab waiters to crack jokes or pour them drinks, but once they were gone, he suddenly looked lonely, sitting quietly and taking small sips. Then light footsteps sounded from behind, and the gray-clad woman slipped in.

“Give me rum!” she said, surveying the booths as if deciding where to sit, but upon catching sight of his face, she giggled and briskly approached him. Haruki hastily yielded half his seat.

“Are you here all by yourself?” “I had no idea when you slipped out of the hall.” “You made a promise to drink together, yet you abandon me here? How cruel of you!” “I was worn out—so I was plannin’ to rest a bit and then head back.” “Have a drink to perk yourself up—how ’bout it?” “Won’t you dance with me again?” The gray-clad woman looked startled,

“Oh! You aren’t aware of anything? The ball has already ended, you know. There’s a scoundrel who apparently stole the silver-haired madam’s necklace. The hall is in an uproar over it right now.” Haruki burst out laughing, “Who’d done it, I wonder. I wonder if it hasn’t been slipped into someone’s pocket again?”

“Ohoho! Your sister already told you, didn’t she? How mean!” The woman laughed while fixing her large eyes on him. He grew slightly more serious, “But—” “That story’s fishy.” “I heard from my sister and called Mitsukoshi right away to check—they said none of their diamonds were missing, I tell ya.” “There’s nothing odd about that.” “I wouldn’t lay a hand on Mitsukoshi’s diamonds, you see.” “That was a fake I’d been keeping.” “I used that one.”

“You’re quite thorough, aren’t ya? But even if I got the fake back, there’s no profit in it.” “In that case, I had a different purpose—it didn’t matter whether I profited.” “What purpose?”

“Because I wanted to meet you. I wanted you to introduce me to your sister—that’s why I went through all that trouble, even writing a whole script!”

Haruki felt slightly amused, but even so, he didn't feel bad. "Tonight I came along because your story drew me in—but even so, I can't spot any world-class thieves here." "What a letdown."

“Oh my! You have such peculiar interests,” she said. “World-class experts are mostly known, you know.” As she began, “From the perspective of someone like me—” she started to stand up, but her shoe slipped, nearly making her topple forward. He half-rose to support her shoulder. She regained her balance, blushing crimson.

“This—I took it,” she said, placing something cold and gritty on his palm, then declared with force: “The Diamond Necklace!” Haruki’s heart gave a thud. He stared at it intently. The gray-clad woman was proudly holding up a thin chain, but let out a low, small “Ah!” It was indeed a necklace, but not of diamonds—one studded with rubies and pearls, a cheap trinket bearing no resemblance to the silver-haired woman’s. Haruki blushed, snatched it, and stuffed it into his own pocket,

“You’ve got some nerve pullin’ that stunt—but this ain’t mine.”

“Then whose is it?” “My sister’s. That Yōko—no matter how much I told her to stop, she wouldn’t listen and came here with this cheap thing hanging around her neck. When we got to the hall entrance, she got so embarrassed she took it off and made me hold onto it.”

She wore a look of disappointment on her face as she smiled wryly.

"But you’ve got some impressive skills," he said with genuine admiration, then suddenly clicked his tongue— "But—how infuriating! I’d never once been outdone by anyone before—" "Well, it can’t be helped." "Because your opponent was me, you see." "What did you say?" "If you go up against a world-class pickpocket expert, even the young master of Hiramatsu doesn’t stand a chance."

“Hmm, so it was you after all.” I’d had a feeling it might be something like that. However, there was quite a buzz about some big-shot thief coming with the tourist group. “If you keep underestimating the police like this, they’ll nab you.”

“There’s no need to worry! Even if they’re scrambling to catch me at the police department—here I am! Calmly strolling through Great Tokyo’s very center with my head held high! Dancing and enjoying myself! Like my favorite snake—try to grab me and I just slither smoothly out of your grasp! The mesh of their net is far too large for someone like me!”

He was overwhelmed and couldn’t respond for a moment; the woman suddenly changed her tone this time, “Even a tramp like me who’s spread herself across the world still feels the same longing for her hometown, you see.” “That’s why I secretly joined the tourist group.” “This homecoming wasn’t just for business—I came hoping to glimpse my mother and sisters from afar.” “Since we can’t meet openly… isn’t that pitiful?” “My father’s ruthlessly strict—if he saw me, he’d drag me straight to the police without hesitation.” “Too cowardly to break free from my parents’ control, I gave up meeting them entirely. I just watch from afar—sometimes smiling, sometimes weeping,” she said, shoulders slumping. As Haruki listened, pity welled up for this woman—yet when he reconsidered, irritation prickled his skin. *The thief who stole my property*—the thought curdled into hatred. Having believed himself unmatched by any living soul, he now tasted bitter humiliation sharper than vinegar.

“I’m genuinely impressed by your technique.” “They don’t call you a world-class master for nothing—you’re damn impressive.” “But don’t think you can look down on me!” “No mentors, no partners.” “Never learned from anyone—” “Naturally.” “Every last one of my associates knows the young lord of House Hiramatsu.” “While I can’t gauge your exact caliber, we all recognize your reputation.” “But—you’ve never witnessed the real performance.”

“Then shall I show you?”

“Ohoho! If you get so full of yourself, you’ll fail, you know. Since I wouldn’t want to embarrass you, let’s save it for today—you can show me next time.”

“Don’t say that.” “I absolutely must show you one thing.”

He grabbed the woman’s wrist and stood up. Caught in the act. “Well, any nearby place will do.” Haruki led the seemingly reluctant woman along.

At that moment, the hotel entrance was in utter chaos as ball attendees were leaving. He pushed through the crowd with an excited look on his face, scanning the area.

He saw a noblewoman in an evening dress frantically searching with her eyes for her own car while stretching up desperately. Haruki approached her from behind, bumped into her lightly, and with speed too fast for the eye to follow plucked out the diamond pin—clutching it tightly, he thrust his hand into his coat pocket. At that very moment, his skilled hand was seized. Startled and trying to turn around, at his ear came a terrifyingly powerful deep voice—

“Thinking of your honor—I’ll keep this quiet—” That was an unbearably arrogant way to speak. Moreover, the owner of that voice was none other than the gray-clad woman. Haruki panicked. “Stay compliant!” A chill ran down his spine. The woman glared fiercely and declared sharply. “Caught in the act!”

“Wha—?!”

He felt as if his head had been struck by a sledgehammer’s heavy blow. He staggered while staring fixedly at the woman’s face head-on.

The Gray-Clad Woman shed the skillful disguise.

“Ah. Oni Yamanishi!” The person in disguise—that was Detective Yamanishi, the most feared among the community of thieves.