Pathway to Japanese Literature

Hamaguchi Jihei

Shizue — Wife

Misako — Eldest Daughter

Yaho — Second Daughter

Akimoto Hiroshi — Hamaguchi’s Secretary

Katsu

The Hamaguchi residence on the plateau of Isogo Byobugaura, Yokohama.

Early spring.

—Around 10 AM.

An old-fashioned dining room adjoined a sunroom's spacious veranda.

A clear, cold morning.
Thin ice covered the water in the stone basin.
Beyond the wide lawn garden lay the early spring sea.

Shizue and Yaho, seated at the table, were having a late breakfast.

“Coffee...” (thrusting out the coffee cup)

Shizue: "Third cup... You should stop here... Your eyes will bulge again."

Yaho (pulling the percolator closer and pouring coffee): "I'm freezing to death."
"A draft's creeping around my shins."
(To Katsu) "Katsu, add more firewood."

“Yes.”
“Burn it up good and hearty!”
“Is it really that cold? You’re out of your mind.”

Yaho: “Mom, did you know a cold wave hit last night? …It was wild—the whole windowpane covered in frost patterns.”

Shizue (to Katsu): “What time did Master return last night?”

Katsu: “Half past one.”

Shizue: “Did he eat anything?”

Katsu: “He said he was cold and drank hot whiskey…”

Shizue: “He didn’t do any research then.”

“Yes, he went straight to bed.”

Shizue turned to Yaho: “Has the Foreign Capital Deliberation Committee meeting already ended?”

Yaho (putting bread into the toaster): "Seeing as she hasn't come down yet, today must be a holiday..." (to Katsu) "Miss Misako?"

“Miss Misako is still asleep.”

Yaho thought, “Still hungover... She did drink an awful lot.” No wonder she’s still out cold.

Shizue said reproachfully, “Yaho.”

Yaho recited dramatically, “Sister... wounded by what cruel love... did you meet your end on some forsaken shore...” She spread butter thickly across her bread.

“Is that a poem?” Shizue asked. “If you must recite verse, save it for later... And really, that’s too much butter.”

“I want to get fat,” Yaho declared. “So gloriously fat I become a blimp.”

“If you get any fatter, you won’t even be able to put on shoes by yourself.”

“Anyway, I’m stout and squat.”
“I’m not slim and graceful like Sister.”
“A ninety-five centimeter bust... Even if I start dieting now, could I ever reduce this volume?”

Misako, wearing pajamas and a nightgown, sauntered into the dining room from the rear doorway.

Yaho: “You’re awake… How are you feeling?”

“Water,” Misako said to Katsu, sitting at the edge of the table with her cheek propped on her hand.

“There’s mineral spring water available,” Katsu offered.

“When I say water, just bring me water,” Misako snapped.

Shizue pushed the water carafe toward her. “Drink as much as you like. A cup would be too tedious, don’t you think?”

“You want me to gulp it straight from the carafe.”

“Isn’t that your specialty? The night before last was a masterpiece.”

“Because it was called a celebratory party, I merely fulfilled my social obligations.”

“Six gin fizzes... I wondered what would become of you.”

“You didn’t even try to stop me, Stepmother... Using even us and Mr. Akimoto as pawns—I see right through what scheme made you throw that party.”

“Whatever the reason, we got to see Ichirō’s face—surely that alone was more than sufficient for you.”

“Which part do you mean…? I may have made a fool of myself, but you weren’t exactly paragons of virtue either, Stepmother… Drunk and yanking at Ichirō from both sides like some—”

“If we pulled from both sides, the balance would be just right, wouldn’t it?”
“How amusing.”

“Oh, you’re so clever.”
“I’ve known that all along.”

“If you have something to say, then say it properly.” Shizue stepped closer, resting a hand on Misako’s shoulder. “Enough with these coy insinuations—out with it.”

“Don’t touch me!” Misako recoiled.

“Stop that screeching!” Shizue’s voice sharpened. “You sound utterly deranged.”

“It’s not just about that party two nights ago.” Misako’s voice cut through the breakfast table. “Everything you do reeks of defilement—I can’t stand any of it.”

Shizue’s palm cracked against Misako’s cheek with a sound like wet laundry slapped on stone.

“Here we go,” Yaho muttered to her coffee cup. “Morning calisthenics…”

Misako cradled her reddening face, fingers trembling against flushed skin. “Thank you for that gift.”

“Anytime,” Shizue laughed, the sound brittle as ice on a windshield. “Just say the word—I’ll keep them coming.”

“Go ahead, try it. Do you think a slap will shut me up?”

“There’s no need to stay silent. I’m the one encouraging you to speak your mind… But really, you should stop calling things ‘defiling.’ What about you...?”

“You mean when you stormed over to Negishidai?”
“So what if that’s the case—You may be an outsider, Stepmother, but Ichirō and I are cousins.”

“Never mind that—go ahead and say it.”

“You failed… Even someone as clever as you couldn’t conceal it… How much you loved Ichirō—even a child like me saw through it.”
“Before Ichirō was drafted for the South… Shall I tell you how it was?”
“While living as husband and wife with Papa—for ten whole years—you kept betraying him in your heart.”
“I think your nightly dreams must be utterly filthy.”

Shizue: “I don’t care about myself—but what about you? Do you truly want to marry Ichirō?”

Misako: “That cornet player and me?”

Shizue: “The way you flew into a rage just now didn’t seem like a joke… But you’re not lying about being hung up on Ichirō, are you?”

Misako: “You couldn’t possibly understand my feelings… That sister-boy type must suit you perfectly, Stepmother…”

Shizue: “The night before last, I tried to catch Ichirō’s attention a little for your sake. Then Ichirō said, ‘Even roasted beans can bloom,’ and went on about how whimsical seasons can be.”

“Hmph, hmph. Cheeky, aren’t you?…” (Glides out of the dining room)

Pause.

Hamaguchi entered through the upper door leading to the living room.

“Good morning, Papa.”

“What were you shouting about?”

“Good morning… You seem to be in high spirits.”

“I’ve always been a morning person.”

“And today?”

Hamaguchi stayed home that day.
(He sat down on a dining chair.)
While looking at the sea: “Last night around midnight, there was heavy rain—but it’s turned into fine weather… What do you think of that sea color?”

“A calm sea.”

“Did you sleep well last night?
It seems you were talking in your sleep though.”

“Did I say something like that in my sleep?”

Hamaguchi felt chilled, worried she might blurt out something strange.

“You’ve been quite suspicious, haven’t you.”

Hamaguchi took up a spoon, scooped an orange from the fruit cup, and ate it. He clicked his tongue. "Tasty."

Shizue: "You always go out of your way to do things people despise."

Hamaguchi: "It's been ages since we all had breakfast together—I let myself get carried away... Seems happiness has this intoxicating effect on people."

Shizue: "That opinion of yours reeks of naivety."

“I don’t know what you think,” Hamaguchi declared, “but there’s no greater happiness in this world than a perfect house-life.” He clicked his spoon against the fruit cup. “Though it seldom comes one’s way.”

“There must be something missing in this household.”

“I’m not talking about you specifically. That’s just how principles work… Isn’t Misako coming to breakfast?”

“I wonder…”

“Katsu—go call Misako.”

“Understood,” Katsu said.
(She started to leave.)
“It’s useless even if you go,” said Yaho.
Shizue’s voice cut through the air. “What do you mean by that tone?”

“Even were one to summon her properly, I doubt she would deign to appear.”

Hamaguchi looked at Shizue’s face, then turned to Yaho. “Did something happen?”

“Even if you ask what happened, it’s such a tangled mess I couldn’t explain it in one word.”

“It doesn’t have to be in one word.”

“Mama and I held a celebration party because there was talk about Ichirō becoming a bandmaster and possibly getting an exclusive recording contract.”

“What’s this ‘bandmaster’?” Hamaguchi asked Shizue.

“It means orchestra conductor,” she replied.

“That’s worth celebrating?”

“Not exactly celebratory, but it shows he’s been recognized at least.”

“Recognition’s trouble…” He turned to Yaho. “So?”

“Ichirō-san’s popularity isn’t fake,” Yaho said. “Like a cornet-playing Presley…”

“What’s Presley?”

“Presley is Presley.
Girls… Well, not just girls—there were plenty of women around Mama’s age too—but after every song ended, they’d start screaming ‘Aah!’ and ‘Hey!’, making a terrible uproar… Papa should really see it for himself sometime.
It’ll change your outlook on life.”

“Just hearing about it is more than enough.
And then?”

Yaho (glances briefly toward Shizue)…

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m trying to remember now.”

“You’ve remembered now? Go on, tell me.”

Yaho: “Sister was up in this mezzanine-like gallery cheering wildly, but Ichirō-san just ignored Sister and only flirted with the girls downstairs... For a proud woman, that’s unbearable—so Sister threw a tantrum and jumped from the gallery... uh... down to the lower floor... She was drunk though—maybe not in her right mind.”

“You keep saying ‘lower floor’—which lower floor are you talking about?”

“It’s a cabaret called ‘Casanova’... Mama knows the rest, so ask her.”

“You’re just as irresponsible.”
“You can’t possibly claim not to know you’ve been restricting Ichirō’s comings and goings.”

“I haven’t been controlling his access or anything like that.”

“If you go out to meet him, it’s no different,” said Hamaguchi. “For a vice-minister’s wife to drink at cabarets with her daughters—what sort of disgrace is this?”

Shizue replied, “He might seem carefree, but he isn’t a bad person.” Her voice sharpened. “You exiled your own nephew—your only blood relative—to that wretched bungalow in Negishidai and abandoned him… If I didn’t shield him discreetly, we’d be the laughingstock of society.”

“Some time ago, Akimoto said...” Hamaguchi looked at Shizue. “‘Mr. Yanagi is a decent young man, but women flock to him and ruin him.’”

“Mr. Akimoto tells you what you want to hear,” Shizue countered coldly, “because he’s your secretary.”

Hamaguchi pressed on: “He also said this—‘That type who inexplicably attracts women... Unless he dies, his troubles won’t end.’”

“Hey Papa—with all due respect—it’s not Ichirō-san who’d find relief in dying, but the women around him.”

“Yaho-san, what exactly are you implying?”

“Let her speak.”

“This is my honest truth—if there hadn’t been someone like that in our family, even I wouldn’t have felt so… chafed. Sometimes I think how light everything would feel if Ichirō-san just… vanished… Though I’m sure you both agree deep down, Papa… Mama… I’ll go to my room now—I want to cry… Papa, let’s meet again soon.”

(Exits the dining room)

Hamaguchi: "I thought it was just Misako, but even Yaho... What about you?"

Shizue: "I'm just observing."

Hamaguchi: "You can't possibly find Misako being in such a state amusing. Why didn't you handle it sooner?"

Shizue: "In the novel *The Brothers Karamazov*, there's a story about a daughter who was supposed to make a happy marriage but throws herself off a cliff to her death for no reason at all."

Hamaguchi (tsks)...

Shizue: "It says that girl only killed herself because she wanted to imitate Ophelia—that if the cliff hadn't been as beautiful as Lorelei's rock, she wouldn't have done it. But my interpretation is... rather than marrying and quickly becoming ugly, shattering that beautiful dream, she wanted to leap into death and remain forever in the memory of the one she loved... to make them shed tears of sympathy every time they remembered her... I think it was just that sort of shallow notion."

Hamaguchi: “When you’re being serious, you ought to speak seriously.”

Shizue: “That’s precisely why I’m saying last night was exactly such a situation. Even if one were to throw oneself into death’s embrace—doing so before one’s lover’s eyes would be supremely effective… Misako has succeeded splendidly.”
“She must be thoroughly satisfied… She might be smirking to herself.”

Hamaguchi: “Enough of this foolishness.”
(He threw his napkin onto the dining table) “Where’s Misako?”

“She’s in the room, I suppose.”

“Tell Misako I’m calling for her.”

Katsu: “Understood.”

Shizue poured coffee. “You’ve grown portly again.”
“Why not take up golf?”

Hamaguchi snorted. “Waste of time.”
“No practical use… Been thinking of boxing instead.”
“Slap some fool’s head till they learn their place.”

Shizue arched an eyebrow. “Am I this ‘fool’?”

“Could be anyone.”

(Pause)

Katsu returned.

Katsu: "It seems she has a headache..."

“What was she doing?”

Katsu (Glancing at Shizue): "Well…"

Hamaguchi: "What do you mean by 'well…'? Never mind—withdraw."

Katsu exits.

Hamaguchi: "She’s a splendid one."
"That one will amount to something."
"It’s better to treat her with care."

Shizue: “Katsu is my servant. You needn’t give her instructions.”

Hamaguchi: In life in this household, there once existed some semblance of order and discipline.
It couldn't be called pristine, but there had been no room for vulgar customs to creep in—yet the moment Ichirō returned, everything went to ruin.
The fact that I hadn't allowed Ichirō to remain idle wasn't without reason.

Katsu entered.

Katsu: “Mr. Akimoto has arrived… He said he would like to see the mistress as well, if it’s not inconvenient.”

Shizue (looking uneasy): “Being so formal… I wonder what this is about.”

Hamaguchi (also seeming to have some idea, to Katsu): “What does he say it’s about?”

Katsu: “He did not mention his business.”

Hamaguchi (after a moment’s thought): To the veranda.

Katsu: "Understood."
(exits)

Hamaguchi and Shizue sat on the veranda’s rattan chairs.

Hamaguchi: “You’re making a strange face. Is something wrong?”

Shizue: “You’re the one who’s done something... aren’t you? You’re sweating.”

Hamaguchi: “Leave my sweat alone.”

Akimoto entered the veranda from the connecting corridor.

Akimoto: “Good morning.”

Hamaguchi: “Good morning... Well, have a seat.”

Shizue: “Welcome.”

Akimoto (to Shizue): “I must apologize for disturbing you during your rest...”

Shizue: “I’m not being that lazy. You’re the one coming at this early hour… Do you have some business?”

Akimoto (courteously): “I was informed this morning that Ichirō has met with a dreadful misfortune...”

Hamaguchi (shouting): “Ichirō—is he dead?”

Akimoto: "It was entirely unexpected…"

Shizue: "It was a traffic accident, was it?"

Akimoto: "Ah—were you already aware?"

Shizue (realizing): “I’ve only just been told, but I thought it must be something like that…”

Hamaguchi: “So what exactly happened?”

Akimoto: “It appears he slipped on Negishidai’s Seven Bends Slope and went straight into the moat…”

Shizue: “Ah, that slope…”

Akimoto: “I happened to see the scene on my way... The car had flipped over with only the wheels above water... They said they’d bring a crane to pull it up, but in that situation, I don’t think he could have gotten out of the driver’s seat.”

Hamaguchi: “He’s used to handling cars—he shouldn’t have made such a mistake.”

“Disasters generally follow such patterns,” Akimoto observed.

“I refuse to accept this!” Hamaguchi’s agitation crackled through the room. “That man was neck-deep in affairs—burdened beyond capacity with grudges from lovers and rivals alike! Given that history, couldn’t they find any evidence of foul play disguised as an accident?”

“The authorities maintain it was a straightforward collision,” Akimoto replied.

Shizue’s lacquered nails tapped the rattan armrest. “And what precisely makes it ‘straightforward’?”

Akimoto: “Accidents at special locations like Negishidai’s Seven Bends Slope all bear the same stamp—if there’s even one motion that deviates from the pattern, they say it becomes instantly apparent… Though the police maintain there were no traces of being rear-ended or sideswiped.”

Shizue: “What time did the accident happen?”

Akimoto: “Between 2:00 and 3:00 AM… The rain that started around midnight let up around two, but it was unfortunate timing when it had started freezing… It seems the car began having trouble while descending the slope—there are signs it collided with the embankment of the cutting… Then it slid backward down the frozen slope, flipped over at the moat’s edge, and plunged into the moat. That’s what they’re saying happened.”

(A pause.)

Hamaguchi (crossing his arms and hanging his head deeply): "Is Ichirō dead?"

Shizue: “Oh… That it came to this… It’s all your fault.”

Hamaguchi: “Saying such things won’t change anything. The dead stay dead—call the police and have them notify us immediately when they retrieve the body.”

Shizue (crying): “Oh… Oh…”
(Exits through the doorway leading to the inner rooms from the living room.)

(A pause.)

Hamaguchi: “Mr. Akimoto…”

Akimoto: “Hah.”

Hamaguchi: “I know this may sound abrupt, but hear me out.”

“Hah.”

“Human likes and dislikes seem impossible to fully control... Since bearing this burden on my heart and suffering alone has become unbearable, I’ll confide it only to you.”

“……”

Hamaguchi: “I’m the one who killed Ichirō.”
Akimoto (looking at him in surprise): “As I mentioned earlier, it was a simple traffic accident…”
Hamaguchi: “I’m telling you—I’m the one who created the circumstances that led to that outcome.”
Akimoto: “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand…”
Hamaguchi: “This house isn’t lacking the space for Ichirō to live. If I’d wanted to build him a house, I could’ve done it… And yet I drove him into that Negishidai place—nothing but dangerous slopes and cliffs no matter which way you go down. Did it never occur to you to question that?”

Akimoto: “I was aware you harbored dislike for Mr. Ichirō.”

“I couldn’t stand that bastard’s slimy, unclean presence… Every morning before opening the newspaper, I’d brace myself—terrified his face would be plastered across some scandalous headline…”

“I can well imagine.”

“That bastard learned to drive cars on the battlefield and developed an astonishingly reckless style... A man who gambles with danger and toys with peril—such a man was bound to fail eventually. I deliberately drove him into that place because deep in my heart, I wished for him to fail... wished he’d bring about his own downfall.”

Akimoto: “Thousands of people drive rickety cars up and down Negishidai every day… Vice-Minister, I don’t think you need to dwell on it to that extent.”

Hamaguchi: “Negishidai isn’t home to Ichirō alone, but there shouldn’t be another man as reckless as him… It’s an undeniable fact that I calculated that weakness and factored it into my expectations.”
“Even if I tried to gloss it over, there’s no glossing it over.”

Katsu entered.

Katsu (to Hamaguchi): “A visitor has come to see you.”
(Handed over a business card.)

Hamaguchi: "Hmm?"
(Looked at the business card, his expression darkened.)
"Akimoto—I need to step out."
(Exit.)

(A pause.)

Shizue entered.

Shizue: “Alone? ... Where’s Hamaguchi?”

Akimoto: “He has gone to the reception room.”

Shizue (sitting in a chair facing Akimoto): “Mr. Akimoto, there’s something I want only you to hear, you know.”

Akimoto: “What is it about?”

Shizue: “I’m the one who killed Ichirō.”

Akimoto (laughs): “This is... quite something...”

Shizue: “There was this forty-five-year-old Ford I’d meant to get rid of years ago. It was an unpleasant car with an unbalanced center of gravity that had a habit of pulling to the right. So it was a car that was bound to fail if driven down a slope…”

Akimoto looked down and lit a cigarette...

Shizue: “You may not know how you saw him, but there’s no man as shallow and affected as Mr. Ichirō. Since he was getting too full of himself, I thought I’d give him a little torment—so without disposing of it, I just tossed that car into the Negishidai garage… Now you understand what a woman’s malice is like, don’t you?”

Akimoto: “Given that Mr. Ichirō was quite knowledgeable about cars, I find it hard to believe he would drive such dangerous machinery...”

“You may say that,” Shizue countered, “but isn’t this outcome precisely because he did drive it?”

Akimoto lowered his gaze as he lit a cigarette. “Whatever thoughts you may harbor, they’re mere figments of imagination—not matters to share with others. Why confess such grave things to me, who bears no relation to this?”

“What do you mean ‘why’?” Shizue’s voice sharpened. “Then you truly knew nothing about that Ford?”

Akimoto: “Why on earth would I know something like that?”

Shizue: “I thought you came here out of consideration—to let me confess and ease my conscience even a little... It seems I overthought things, didn’t I.”
“Then I shouldn’t have confessed at all… Oh, how absurd.”

Hamaguchi returned to the spacious corridor.
He pressed the call bell.

Katsu: “Did you call for me, sir?”

Hamaguchi: “When the police call, switch it over here... Then have Misako and Yaho come.”

Katsu: Understood.
(Exit.)

Akimoto asked Hamaguchi, “Who was in the reception room?”

“The Nikkō Shimbun...” Hamaguchi’s voice trailed off.

“I’ll go meet them briefly,” Akimoto offered.

“Already drove them off... This time,” Hamaguchi growled, “there’s no covering it up. Let ’em write whatever they damn well please.”

Katsu entered.

“What about Misako?”
“She is changing clothes and will be here shortly.”

“Changing clothes?”
“What was she doing?”

“She was putting on mourning clothes before the full-length mirror...”
“Mourning clothes?... And Yaho?”
“She said she would come after washing her face.”
“She was crying pitifully.”

Hamaguchi (to Katsu): "You can leave now."

Katsu: "Yes."
(Exit)

Hamaguchi: “Mr. Akimoto—did you inform Misako and Yaho by phone? About Ichirō’s death…”

Akimoto: “No.”

Hamaguchi: “…There’s no doubt he’s dead, but putting on mourning clothes already seems rather hasty.”

Shizue: “When a friend passed away, the mourning clothes didn’t arrive in time. She’s wearing the ones that came recently for the first time now.”
“Because she had been looking forward to it—that’s probably why.”

Misako entered.

“Mr. Akimoto, welcome,” said Misako. “You’re making such a serious face. Did something happen?”

Shizue turned to Misako. “When Katsu went to your room, you were already wearing mourning clothes... Did you know Mr. Ichirō had died?”

Misako murmured, “Mr. Ichirō... died.”

“Around three this morning, he had an accident on Seven Bends Slope and went into the moat below…”

“If that’s how it happened, then it’s my fault.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Hamaguchi demanded.

“But it’s true,” Misako insisted. “When the rain stopped and the roads began freezing over, I was the one who called Mr. Ichirō down by phone.”

Shizue arched an eyebrow. “You think Ichirō would dance to your tune over a mere phone call?”

“It was a call he couldn’t ignore... I told him Father wanted to reconcile and he should come at once...”

Shizue: “Did Mr. Ichirō answer the phone?”

“As if he would answer!” Misako scoffed. “Just as usual—some unknown woman…”

Akimoto muttered, “Nothing but strange things today... Does summoning someone by phone count as killing Mr. Ichirō now?”

“Killing—what an ugly word.” Misako’s voice sharpened. “There wasn’t a single moment I thought of such a thing.”

Shizue pressed, “Mr. Ichirō died because he plunged into the moat.”

“Stepmother, do keep quiet.” Misako turned to Akimoto. “Had things gone as I imagined, Mr. Ichirō would’ve had no choice but to plunge into that moat. The Ford at Negishidai—its brake drum shaft was dangerously loose.” Her finger traced an arc through the frosty air. “After nearly experiencing it myself once, I knew exactly where on that frozen post-rain slope the car would skid... precisely how it would hurtle into the water.”

“My, what a person you are,” said Shizue.

“I’m a simple woman,” Misako replied. “I can’t manage complicated schemes like you, Stepmother… In my mind, I just thought if he’d break a leg or catch a cold and stay bedridden for half a year… What a childish wish that was.” She let out a hollow laugh. “What someone like me can come up with is ultimately just this much.”

Shizue’s eyes narrowed. “If you didn’t think he was dead, why prepare mourning clothes?”

“Stepmother, how can you say such a thing? I thought since no one enters your room…”

Yaho entered.

“Everyone’s here, I see.”
“A family meeting?”

“Stop chattering over there and come sit here.”
“Today isn’t a day for laughing or carrying on.”

“When I went to Mama’s room earlier, the mourning clothes were laid out… Did someone die?”

A brief moment.

Hamaguchi: "Yaho, you were Ichirō's only ally... You probably despised him, but still went through hell trying to mediate between us... Now Father sees that clearly."

Yaho: "That's Father reading too much into it."
"There's no way I could do something like that—never even crossed my mind."
"As for Ichirō? He was such a bore I did think about messing with him sometimes, but..."

Hamaguchi: “If that’s how it is, then let it be... Ichirō is dead. We’re waiting here for the police call confirming they’ve retrieved the body.”

Yaho: “Finally... he’s finally dead? What a relief for both Father and Mama. The Hamaguchi family won’t be troubled by nasty rumors anymore... How auspicious.”

Shizue: “Yaho—are you crying?”

Yaho: “Me? For whom? (Laughs) There’s always pleasure to be found in misfortune. Mourning clothes are chic after all. This time I’ll finally wear them... I wonder who’ll look best—Mama perhaps? Or Sister?... Pity about Sister, but Mama seems more fitting.”

Katsu entered.

Katsu: “There is a call from the police.”
“I have transferred it here.”

Akimoto stood up from the chair on the veranda and went to where the phone was.
(Picking up the receiver) "This is Hamaguchi... Yes... yes... The investigation?... Thank you for that... We'll contact you again later..." (Putting down the receiver and returning to the veranda) "They said the investigation was complete and they'd sent the body by ambulance... It should arrive here soon."

“So it truly was…” Hamaguchi trailed off.

“...By that point,” Akimoto completed grimly, “there had been no possibility of survival.”

The sound of an ambulance siren could be heard from afar, gradually growing closer, and soon came to a stop near the gate.

Akimoto: “Ah, it seems they’ve arrived.”

Hamaguchi: “Ichirō has returned... Let’s all greet him at the entrance.”

Hamaguchi, Shizue, and Misako stood up.
Yaho alone remained on the rattan chair.

Shizue: “Yaho, come here.”

Yaho (didn’t move)...

Shizue: “What’s wrong, Yaho?”

Misako (to Yaho): “Contrarian.”

Katsu entered.

Katsu: “The City Office Burial Section called to say that the body they just sent over will be treated as a homeless wanderer, so...”

Akimoto: “Homeless wanderer? Such insolence…”

Katsu: “They say it was a car thief who stole the Ford from the Negishidai garage. If you wish to claim it, they have requested that you go through the necessary procedures, but...”

Shizue (to Akimoto): “Mr. Akimoto, what is the meaning of this?”

Akimoto (flustered): “Well... I... I don’t...”

“Well, well.”

“Master,” Katsu addressed Hamaguchi, “how shall I respond to the Burial Section’s call?”

Hamaguchi looked perplexed. “To have such a thing thrust upon us...” He turned to Katsu. “Though I did state we would accept it earlier—since it was a case of mistaken identity...”

Akimoto: “I deeply apologize... I will go out and provide an explanation.”

Shizue: “Mr. Akimoto, that was an uncharacteristic mistake for you.”

“I deeply apologize,” said Akimoto.
(He exited toward the back of the living room where the phone was.)

“Mama, Sister...” Yaho remarked. “I’d planned to air out the mourning clothes, but how regrettable—the mark was missed.”

“What are you talking about?”
“There’ll be another good chance soon enough—”

There was a pause.

Hamaguchi: “Yaho... Call the hotel and tell them to send over a cook and waiter with ingredients.”

Yaho: “Wow... What’s the festival tonight?”

Hamaguchi: “It’s nothing special.
Let’s all dine together for the first time in ages—” (To Shizue) “—If you want to invite Ichirō, go ahead.”

Yaho: “Hmm... If he were alive, there’d be some payoff.”

Yaho went to where the phone was.

Yaho picked up the receiver and dialed: “Hello? Is this the hotel?”
“Let me speak to Mr. Kita... Mr. Kita? This is Hamaguchi.”
“It’s Yaho... We’re throwing a big feast here—send over a cook with ingredients... A wake?”
“What nonsense... I don’t know what we’re celebrating exactly—but make sure everything’s prepared for a proper dinner celebration... Understood?”

Curtain.