Pathway to Japanese Literature

O-saki was sharpening a kitchen knife, and Asakichi was moving along the roof while applying thatch.

The town of Kana-iwa, with its ten thousand households, embraced a fire watchtower at its center and spread its hem right up to the roaring Sea of Japan.
The chilly spring’s cloudy sky had the color of a dirty bottle, creating a stiff, breath-choking, unpleasant scene.
At the edge of town, within the pine forest, stood a solitary house,

Asakichi said while looking at O-saki’s back at the gushing well.

“O-saki.”

“What?”

“You know, this ain’t gettin’ us nowhere no matter how long we keep at it like this.”

“What’re you sayin’ we should do then?”

“Can’t you go somewhere else?”

“You’re startin’ that again? Where the hell d’you think I got to go? You ought to know that yourself.”
“But if you’d just get serious, you could go anywhere—it’s you who won’t get serious!”
“What’s the point of getting serious?”
“I’m dead serious about wanting you gone from here—it’s so damn stifling I can’t even show my face to folks anymore……”
“Don’t go acting all stifled now and expect me to buy your half-assed excuses—you know damn well how many decades we’ve been at this?”

“You’re thirty-six—ain’t that why we’ve been stuck like this for thirty-six years?”

“Where the hell’m I supposed to go after thirty-six years in the house I was born in? Even if it’s your house, half of it’s mine.”

“I’ll split what can be split.”

“Sell off plot by plot and all that’s left’s land round the house—that worthless riverside stretch nobody wants, ain’t that right?”
“What’s left to split? You ’n me both got nothin’ but the rags on our backs.”

“…………”

“Not a single soul in town would take us in, and we both know that full well while holed up in this pine forest—what gives you the right to spout such high-and-mighty excuses?”

“If you’d just disappear, we’d be clean—long as you’re here, we get fingers pointed at us behind our backs. I want you to get that through your head.”

“What rot—think your filth’ll scrub clean just ’cause I vanish now? That’s rich! Quit your self-righteous crap already.”

“Bein’ alone’d let the world forget us gradual-like.”

“If I left, where would I go and what would I do to survive?”

“You we’re talking about—you’ll manage to survive somehow.”

“Not a chance I’ll fall for that trick! I’ll stay right here till I die—why hold back in Mom and Dad’s own house? Hell no!”

“Stay where I can’t see your face—if you’re staying here, hide everywhere.”

“How hide and live in the same damn house? So you’ve come to hate me now, huh?”

“Yeah, I’ve come to hate you.”

“You really mean that?”

“I have! I’ve hated you for ages!”

“So you’ve come to hate every last bit of me?”

“From the tips of my toes to every nook and cranny of my head—I’ve come to hate you.”

“Let me ask one more time—is that your true, genuine seriousness?”

“You think I’d bother lying about that?”

“You’re worse than a beast of a brother. How dare you say that now after all this time? Just how old were you when you started deceiving me? Dragging me along since Mom and Dad were alive—forcing me into this mess while I went around giggling like a fool knowing nothing! Then you start twitching every now and then, screaming ‘Get out! Vanish!’—you call yourself an honest man? Can’t do a single decent human thing, yet you’ve got the nerve to corner me like this with nothing better to do! Going on about ‘the town’ and ‘the authorities’ to torment me—think about it! I’m not even your sister anymore!”

“You ain’t my real sister—I heard that straight from Dad.”

“Where’s the proof?”

“There’s proof—you’re fat and I’m skinny.”

“How can you trust that kinda evidence? Take a damn look in the mirror sometime.”
“You’ll see just how much we look alike!”

“The fact you’re a baby we got from a woman in the licensed district—look, didn’t that licensed district woman bring eggs an’ steamed sweets every Bon an’ year-end when your mother was around? Pretty woman—that’s your real mother. Raised as my sister, but you ain’t my real sister.”

“Then why’re you hidin’ from the world playin’ cat-an’-mouse? If I ain’t your real sister, why not strut ’round together open-like? What a ridiculous man you are.”

“Even if you’re not the real deal, a sister’s still a sister, ain’t she?”

“If I’m not the real thing, there’s no shame in being your sister—no sin against Heaven’s way. It’s your cowering that makes folks suspicious! But here’s the kicker—your trembling don’t match your big talk. People can’t tell real sisters from fake ones these days… that’s what’s fishy! You’re a champion liar—truth’s beyond you. Still… women from the licensed district—odd, ain’t it? Why’d she keep bringing offerings here? If I were a fake sister, it’d be a blessing! I’d holler it from the rooftops—scold those brats who treated me like mangy strays! Me? Just raised as your sister… while Mother plucked shamisen strings in the licensed district? Heh heh… I’d give anything to hear Mother’s shamisen.”

“If I’m a liar, then you’re a half-wit—they say that shamisen player died on Matsubara Highway clutching her license.”

“What’s this ‘license’ crap? What filthy lies are you spewing?”

“Licensed prostitutes back then had permits—every time they went to town or came back, they had to stop at the police box to show them. Normally they couldn’t even go out at all. And your mother finally got sick under those pine trees and died by the roadside. That’s what everyone’s saying.”

“Liar! Mother wasn’t some spineless wretch—she died proper on tatami in some decent house! You think I’ll swallow your made-up tales? What right d’you have claimin’ my mother died roadside? Your own ma—what kinda death did she have? Even after wrappin’ her in straw mats like a steamed bun, she thrashed three whole nights from the cold ’fore croakin’! I bawled my eyes out thinkin’ she was my real mother—makes me sick to my guts now!”

“Hmph. And if that were your real Mother, what’d you do?”

“Your mother and my mother are different—I didn’t realize it till today, but now I finally get it clear as day. This whole rat’s nest of your yammerin’ made me see it plain—your ma was just some dirt-poor farm woman while mine was a proper lady who played music and sang till her last breath.”
“Now there’s this… this shape like ma I can see deep in my skull—I remember her coming clear out to the back riverbank just to meet me, my real ma who was such a looker with her milky-white skin.”

“What’re you spoutin’? Women from the licensed district—they ain’t got no town spots to work, just sand dunes up top. Never see daylight, faces all sickly pale. My mother mixed with ’em too—squealin’ songs from the crown of her head like a stuck pig. No place to screw but dunes! Them dunes change height daily when winds blow, but the licensed whores stay the same—hair wrapped in red and pale blue cloths, peerin’ down at the highway between towns, flaggin’ down merchants! Hustlin’ in howlin’ dune winds! My mother might’ve been fair-skinned, but if she didn’t croak on Matsubara Highway, she died between dunes—there’s hollows there perfect for dyin’. Bet she thrashed ’round in one ’fore kickin’ it.”

“You’re lying! You’re the one who just ranted about it being the highway earlier!”

“No—she died in a sand dune hole.”

“Neither! It was on tatami—proper tatami mats with borders.”

“I’ll stab you.”

“Stab me and I’ll bite your damn hand off!”

O-saki tested the kitchen knife’s edge with her fingertips while pretending to splash sharpening water up at Asakichi on the roof, and Asakichi hurled chopped thatch scraps down at O-saki.
The monkey and dog—their faces abruptly shifting between purple and stone-gray—confronted each other, one atop the solitary house’s roof and the other on the ground below.
The road lay quite a distance from the pine forest, with not a soul in sight; behind them sprawled not mere sandhills but clustered dunes whose pallid surfaces matched the overcast sky in hue. The pine forest—composed solely of black pines—stood as unnaturally uniform as if smeared with coal tar.

Asakichi suddenly demanded the saw.

"You should come down and get it yourself. What kinda roofer doesn't even have a saw?"

O-saki didn't even turn around.

"Hey—the saw."

"How can you be this dense? After dragging my mother through the mud, you don't even have a saw!"

"I'll really stab you this time."

"I won't flinch an inch. Quit fussing with the roof and just get lost already."

"So now you're tellin' me to leave?"

"If I don't keep hollerin' 'Move! Move!' at you, I'll just keep piling up lies."
"In the end, blurring truth and lies is your true nature—you mudsucker! Stirrin' up muck then slitherin' away's your way! And now you're chuckin' thatch clumps again!"

“The thatch tips’ll slice you open.”

“Damn you!”

“Anyway, I’m a damn bastard—just like the townsfolk say. You should’ve known that all along.”

“You’re the one who should get lost already!”

“Where the hell you tellin’ me to go? I ain’t moved an inch from here—what damn place do I even got to go?”

“You could scrape by as a day laborer if you tried. If I were alone, people’d take pity once they realized I’d been tricked into this mess—but who’d lift a finger for trash like you? The world cuts women better deals anyway. So the one leaving here ain’t me—it’s you.”

“Who the hell’s leaving? It’s you who’s supposed to get out!”

“Ha ha, you disappearing’s the most natural thing—just like she got so ashamed she couldn’t stay anymore, right?”

“I’ve been here forty damn years—where the hell could I even go?”

“Heh heh. You wanna say you’ll stay here till you croak, don’tcha?”

“Damn right I will.”

“All you do’s parrot others! What kinda two-faced bastard orders me out after I came here on my own say-so?”

“When I leave, I’ll set this whole damn house on fire and burn it to the ground.”

“Before you torch it, you’d better believe I’ll be running to the cops to file a report.”
“You think I could live being scared of the cops?”

“You think I’d stick around scared of arson?”

“You pathetic runt—I’ll beat you to death.”

“You keep threatening to kill me every day—know how many lives you’ve squandered over ten years?”

“Today’s when I end you.”

“Come down then! Come settle this!”

Asakichi tried circling toward the side shed with the ladder when O-saki dashed out and knocked it sideways, trampling both debris and rungs beneath her sandals. He leapt to the back shed’s foothold, stood shark-still, ducked into the sickle shed, then reappeared instantly.

Shark-faced and unreadable—O-saki spat, “You mean it this time?” Asakichi growled, “Mean it or not—you know what happens when I snap.” He lunged as if ejected from his creeping advance.

O-saki fled nimbly around the house once, but his pursuing legs closed in until her straggling hair grazed his hand repeatedly.

Entering the pines, Asakichi’s face began warping—his lethal intent materializing before her panicked eyes like a blade at her throat. “Damn you! Finally serious!” she screamed. “Serious?” he jeered. “Quit yapping ‘serious’! See for yourself!” He lunged again, their arena now flanked by the Human-Snatching River’s murk on one side and escape-proof mudflats on the other.

Asakichi strained to straighten his sneer-twisted face—a glare so terrifying O-saki wondered where he’d hidden this alien visage.

At this moment, on this Human-Snatching River, the handyman Mohei’s boat could be seen moving along the current toward the town called Ōno without even the sound of oars.
The Human-Snatching River maintained a width of about three ken (~5.4 meters) along its depth, but massive reed colonies encroaching noisily from both banks clutched the current between them until the water’s surface—barely wide enough for a single mud boat to pass—no longer reflected the sky’s pallor. Should someone fall here, their legs entangled in reed roots would only bind tighter with every struggle, which was why they called it the Human-Snatching River.

“Mohei-san, help me?”

When O-saki raised her voice like this, the bow of Mohei's silent boat plunged swiftly into the reeds; O-saki leapt aboard in one breath.
The rice boat was returned to the river's center. Mohei muttered something about a sibling quarrel—or rather a marital one—but didn't ask their destination. Even when seeing Asakichi's rigid face standing there, he showed no trace of concern.

The boat plied daily between Ōno Town and Kaneiwa Town as a handyman boat.

Mohei had continued such work for decades—neither finding it unpleasant nor likable, nor even considering it foolish—his dullness making him one of those people every bit as dim-witted as Asakichi and O-saki.
Even after taking O-saki aboard, Mohei didn’t ask how far they were going—this being the same expressionless countenance that O-saki herself employed—and with her making no effort to explain what had transpired, he didn’t particularly attempt to broach the subject either.

“Earlier, you said it was a marital quarrel...”

O-saki immediately calmed down and said resolutely.

“Aren’t you two married?”

“Does it look that way?”

“No matter how you look at ’em，they’re no different from a married couple.”

“Don’t they look like siblings?”

“They’re separate humans born from separate wombs.”

“So，Uncle—you know my mother，don’t you?”

“I know your mother.”

“Do you know where and when she died?”

“Your mother hanged herself with a shamisen string—but I didn’t see it myself.”
“They only realized she’d died when dawn came.”

“Mohei-san—you of all people! Spreading groundless rumors about whether someone could strangle themselves with a shamisen string? At your age, I won’t have you spreading such nonsense.”

“She attached a string to the shamisen that was on the shamisen hook—do you understand?”

“Ah—you mean the shamisen that was hung on the shamisen hook.”

“Well then, you understand she could die that way now.”

“Stop lying, Mohei-san—you’re just another liar!”

“It’s not a lie.
I saw it with my own eyes…”

“Didn’t you just say you didn’t see it? What are you playing at, claiming you saw it with your own eyes now?”

“I didn’t actually see it…”
“Bullshit.”
“Quit your nonsense.”
“Cut out that nonsense right now. She’s my precious mother—the mother who isn’t alive anymore.”

“You got any of them delicate feelings in ya?”

“What’d you say?”

“Mother ’n child—they’re separate things.”

“Mohei-san—you ever hear my mother’s shamisen?”

“Heard it? Hell—I had her.”

“You filthy fuckin’ vulture!”

“Her mother’s shamisen—whenever she tapped that plum-blossom basin and money came out, she’d sing that same song all year long—over and over.”

“She was good.”

“The voice was good.”

“What about her skill? I remember her as fair-skinned...”

“She was fair-skinned. Smooth-skinned.”

“What was she like?”

“A woman who gives birth but can’t even shove the baby at someone - that’s how infuriatingly composed her nature was.”
“Women like that vanished with her era - there comes a time when even womanhood’s very essence fades clean away.”

“How pitiable…”
“If they knew you were living so high and mighty, they’d find it strange.”

“I find it strange myself.”

“Now then—are you Asakichi’s wife? Tell me the truth—are you truly his bedmate?”

“I was tricked into becoming his wife.”

“Huh.”

“I won’t be tricked again.”

“What’re you plannin’ to do?”

“I still haven’t figured out what to do—but one thing’s certain—I ain’t goin’ back to his place. He’ll likely start searchin’ around tonight.”
“He’s that kinda man—there ain’t a woman in Kaneiwa Town or Ono Town who’d become his wife now. Since I’ll be the last fool to fall for that, he’ll come crawlin’ back searchin’ and apologizin’—but I ain’t returnin’.”

“Where’re you sleepin’ tonight?”
“Well… tonight I…”

“Sleep on the boat.”

“On this boat?”

“Under the reed roof, it’s warm, I tell you.”
“A stove’s been set up too.”

“Let me see.”
“See? Properly set up, ain’t it.”
“Almost like a restaurant.”
“Mohei-san sleeps here daily—cooks his own rice too.”
“Twenty years at this—sold boats twice n’ bought ’em twice. Each new boat fills eateries with banquet halls.”
“Ha ha.”
“Had I known ’twas like this, they’d’ve tossed me daikon ’n burdock bunches.”
“With this rig, you’ll haul catfish ’n crucians night-fishing till you’re sick of ’em—keep ’em alive in the well so no need for radish.”

“Huh, there’s a live well too?”
“We’ve got everything ’cept women.”
“Only women we can’t keep alive in a live well—they’re too big, not like crucian carp.”
“Heh heh heh.”

“O-saki-san.”

“You.”

“You scared of Asakichi?”

“That numbskull’s not scary in the least!”

“Hmm?”

“You.”

“Why don’t you stay on the boat tonight…”

“Heh heh heh.”

“I’ll make beef hot pot—you like beef, don’t you.
Add plenty of sugar, I tell you.”

“Add plenty of sugar, okay? Heh heh.”
“There’s no wind—and I’ll go stock up on supplies in town.”
“I’ll pick out prime meat and buy it.”

“It doesn’t need to be such prime meat—as long as there’s meat. Prime cuts aren’t actually all that tasty…”

“Then should I get regular cuts?”

“Regular cuts with white flecks of fat are best.”

The rice boat stopped in the reeds behind Jōgenji Temple, but if anyone moving along the roadway lay flat and used poles carefully, the boat's shape wouldn't be visible at all.
The rear where the bow was thrust in had its reeds trimmed back just enough for passage, and a nun descended from Jōgenji Temple—a young nun who must have been keeping watch somewhere—carried a heavy bag and wordlessly handed it to Mohei.
Mohei brought a measuring box and winnowing basket from under the reed roof.

The young nun crouched in the reeds, making sure her figure remained hidden from casual view.
O-saki was not looking at the nun’s face, but gazing up at the Hakusan Mountain Range beyond the plain.

"We can weigh it now."

“Here.”

“This should be all the winter provisions collected, right?”

“Twenty-one days’ worth of collection.”
“Even farmers treasure their rice, so they don’t part with it easily.”

“There’s two to and eight sho here—what’s your assessment?”

“Two to and eight sho is acceptable then.”

“So at 180 yen per two to that’s 3,600 yen, and adding the eight sho portion’s 1,440 yen brings the total to 5,040 yen. Let me see—then I will certainly hand over 5,040 yen.”

“Much obliged.”

“And next?”

“Since it’s the first and fifteenth collections, do stop by.”

“Please give my regards to the Abbess.”

“Much obliged.”

The rice boat reached the middle of the river.
Mohei transferred the rice into a different bag and draped a tattered work coat over it.

“So you sell all the rice you’ve collected around? That’s a slick business you’ve got there.”

“Every village has its temple—there’s brokers making rounds collecting from them—but without nuns, you wouldn’t get any rice.”

“Why’s that?”

“For some reason, seems nuns never miss their rice collection.”

The rice boat reached the town’s edge. The familiar fire watchtower of Kaneiwa Town came into view, then the bow thrust up against a small pasture fence behind a dairy shop. Evening-milked milk in crates passed hand-to-hand into the boat. When ranch owner Yanoshima spotted O-saki, he said to Mohei:

“Where you taking that lovely customer of yours, eh?”
“Heh…”
“Boats sure keep you ignorant of the world.”
“Mr. Yanoshima—don’t go spouting nonsense now—I’m just hitching a quick ride here.”

“Oh, I see. Then keep it quiet.”

“Heh…”

Mohei laughed ambiguously and pushed off from the shore.

O-saki puffed out her cheeks and called him a nasty milkman, saying he should come help with milking whenever he had free time—but added that if he went milking, everyone would end up having their breasts squeezed.

“They say dairy work ruins a woman’s nature—is it ’cause the milk’s white?”

“Stupid Mohei-san—what’s the milk’s whiteness got to do with women anyway?”

At the railing on the second floor of the Kaiikan—a renowned salt bathhouse in Shiofuro—two women who had done their evening makeup had been keenly watching Mohei’s boat gliding along the Hitodasugawa River since earlier.
When Mohei finally noticed them too, he raised his hand in acknowledgment, and the women waved back as if exchanging coded signals.
In Kaneiwa Town, it stood as the sole restaurant, its manicured garden surroundings boasting a grandeur faintly reminiscent of a castle’s keep.

“Why’re those folks waving their hands like that?”

“They’re waiting for this.”

“Is it about the rice?”

“Since temple rice gets eaten at restaurants—that stuff sure travels through strange places.”

“You’re skimming profit there, aren’t you Mohei-san?”

“Hmm—take fifty yen per shō off the top makes fourteen hundred profit. Means the haulage fee from Jōgenji Temple turns into fourteen hundred clear.”

“You’re quite the operator, Mohei-san.”

“Since trains get picked apart in inspections, everyone round here moves things by boat. Look—see that boat comin’ up now? They’re weaving through the reeds on purpose, ain’t they?”

The passing boat called out to Mohei.
"They're smuggling a woman for dirty business, ain't ya?"
"Where's she from?" they pressed, but Mohei ignored them and countered, "How 'bout lettin' me have two bales for two hundred yen?" adding that the cash was fresh-minted.
The rival boat owner tossed a cloth bundle into Mohei's vessel with a thud—the impact swung the stern sideways. O-saki yelped, "Mister! Steady us!"
"Mister here says this lady ain't used to boats," remarked the opponent owner, eyeing O-saki's pallor.
"Here's your cut—four bills," said Mohei, passing the money before gliding back into the reeds. They split without another word once the deal was done.

“Mohei-san’s got money to spare,”
“I never knew any of that till now.”

“Can’t do business without cash—what I’ve got’s all tied up anyway.”

The boat reached Kaiikan’s laundry area where maids took charge of the rice.
The enormous wad of bills—nearly a bale’s worth—rustled crisp counting sounds in Mohei’s palm.
O-saki shuddered at those long blue-tinged notes, reassessing him as he handled them so casually, her gaze burning bright with fascination.

Under a cloudy sky that showed the lingering tobacco-brown hues of sunset, gloom crept up from beneath the reed thickets.

A certain small marsh opening into the Hitodasugawa River had areas where even the faint skyglow suggesting a marsh’s presence—let alone the water’s color—could not be seen through the dense reeds.
When he slid the boat into the reed thicket with a grating scrape, the mass of reeds that had been flattened by the water returned to their clustered state upon clearing the hull’s underside—Mohei’s boat was swallowed whole by the reeds, vanishing into a perfect hideaway where neither vessel nor people remained visible no matter how intently one peered through from outside.

O-saki had just been told by Mohei that he was going out to buy meat when he suddenly returned—having gone to town from who knows where—and proceeded to unpack and lay out an enormous quantity of provisions he’d purchased. O-saki lit a charcoal fire under the mat roof, arranged two zabuton cushions, laid out a kitchen knife, a chopping board, and bowls and plates, and waited. Not a sound stirred the surroundings; beneath the mat roof it was almost oppressively warm, so they crawled under the charcoal fire’s glow, placing a kotatsu tray atop the embers to sit facing each other. Of course, the sake had already been warmed in the medicinal pot.

“Well now, O-saki-san—your face has firmed up nicely, hasn’t it?”

“I borrowed Mohei-san’s razor—how many years has it been?”

“You’ve sharpened up enough to make me do a double take—women sure feel like primping themselves depending on place and time.”

“Hee hee hee.”

“How ’bout one?”

“Mm.”

“Can you handle your drink?”

"I'll get drunk quick—look, I'm already getting warm all over."

"Another."

"Mm."

“Tomorrow, go see a movie or something and wait under Kiemon Bridge in the evening—I’ll come pick you up.”

“Mm.”

“You can use all of these.”

“You don’t need to give me this much just to go see a movie.”

“Buy whatever you like.”

“Mm.”

As this peculiar misunderstanding between the two people was about to be laid bare like some commonplace affair within the boat encircled by reed thickets, Mohei inadvertently let something slip.

“O-saki-san—have you ever been to the house in Oshioda Town?”

“You mean that Oshioda Town’s the one behind the school?”

“The house where your Grandmother lives.”

“I think I went there to play when I was about five or six—there was a house with an upper floor in the back where Mother used to be.”

“Mother died there.”

“On tatami mats... if she died on happy tatami mats...”

“Of course—but that house was yours.”

“Oh, was mother beautiful?”

“Her sweet nature meant she got cast aside without a single penny.”

“By who?”

“Ōnoya—a lumber merchant in Ōno Town. Your mother had taken ill back then—bedridden for three years or so, I’d say.”

“I remember washing my face at the Oshioda house—Granny must know everything about Mother. I want to see Granny.”

“That blind-with-greed hag—skin stretched taut from avarice—rents out her whole house to three households just to eat. You go sniffing around there, she’ll resent it—wouldn’t dream of seeing you.”

“I want to meet her.”
“She’s Mother’s mother.”

“You still clinging to such naive ideas?”

“I want to see living relatives—if I’ve spent my whole life staring at that Asakichi bastard’s face in the pine grove, isn’t it only natural I’d want to meet at least one real family member?”

“That’s true too—by the way, should we put the charcoal fire at our feet and lay out the bedding like this?”

“The boat rocks when you turn over.”

Mohei, in a drunken daze, changed into a kimono and blurted out something unforeseen.

“Your mother slept in this boat too.”

“What did you say—”

O-saki lifted her face.

“I slept with your mother here too.”

“For real?”

“No lie.”

O-saki sat up and flung away the pillow.

“Damn you! Bringing up Mother now of all times.”

“No—it’s a lie, just a lie.”

“What’s truth or lies? Would someone like Mother ever bed down in a boat with our sort? This is that cash from earlier—you think tossing this around’ll make me swallow your crap?”

“Where you headed?”

“Getting myself to the road and going back.”

“Where d’you think you’re disembarking?”

“You’re the damn boatman—ferrying folks to shore’s your job. Launch the boat.”

“Who do you think can row a boat this late? Even if we reach the road, there’s nowhere for you to sleep.”

“Just get me to the road already.”

“What I said about your mother was just a joke—don’t take it to heart.”

“Then you get out somewhere—I’ll sleep here alone.”

“Hmph—that might do too. Let’s agree not to speak such rough words between us.”

“Come near and I’ll torch it.”
“These dry reeds won’t last a breath.”

“Drop the matches.”

“Let go? Not a chance.”

“No wonder you’re acting up—Asakichi’s handiwork through and through. Quit thrashing around.”

“You think we’d fall into your trap? We’d set up a trap here for my mother like this—and now you’re trying to use that same trick on me, her daughter too. River-deaf bastard.”

“I’ll beat you down!”

“If I set my mind to it, I’m the kind of woman who’d burn this whole place down without batting an eye—might just do it too. You’d better know who you’re messing with before you start anything.”

“You’re dead set on getting to shore, huh?”

“I don’t want to stay another second—get me ashore now.”

“You fool—turning down prime cuts.”

“Whenever I hear about Mother, no matter what I eat, it never feels like I’ve eaten…”

The boat scraped gratingly through the reeds where it had been, emerged into open water only to plunge into the reeds on the opposite bank. O-saki leapt up onto the road and without looking back cut through the fields, avoiding mulberry stumps as she headed toward town.
It was just past eight o'clock, and the shop lights were bright, with clusters of playing children still lingering on the road.

At the sweets shop beneath the fire watchtower, she bought a package of mugwort mochi, and as she tried to turn from the crossroads into the backstreets, a shark-like man suddenly emerged into the dim glow of shop lights on the opposite road—it was Asakichi.
O-saki thought with spiteful satisfaction—Hmph, still searching for me this late—and felt emboldened, immediately heading out toward Oshio-gura Town.
Even after becoming practically estranged and encountering the grandmother along the way, she had never once visited that house.
The house’s layout she remembered from childhood remained clear in her mind, but visiting tonight for the first time in thirty years struck even herself as strange and unsettling.
As she opened the heavy red-lacquer latticed door of the tenant-house style building, the grandmother at the hearth seemed poised to first ask who it was and what business had brought them.
The strange thing was that within this house she hadn’t entered in thirty years, the grandmother behaved as though they met daily, effortlessly setting aside formalities.

“Asakichi came looking for you just now—did you meet him?”

“What meeting?”

“Did you quarrel?”

“Huh? Wait…”

Anshima, the postal worker renting the second floor next to Grandmother, looked at O-saki while cleaning his hunting gun.
This man would often prowl the pine forest and had even entered O-saki’s pine grove to retrieve birds he’d skillfully shot down.
Anshima gave a slight nod of his head, then placed today’s haul of thrushes, shrikes, and pheasants into a net bag and went out back—likely to pluck their feathers.

“I came because I wanted to hear the truth about my mother...”
“What a strange child you are, bringing this up now.”
“Did Mother really die in this house?”
“In this house—you know, that six-tatami room.”
“So she died on the tatami mats, then.”
“What are you talking about, child?”
“Since there are these stories—that she hanged herself with a shamisen string or died destitute on Pine Street—I came up to hear the actual facts, since I thought Granny would know.”

“Is Asakichi the fool spouting such nonsense?”

“Yeah.”

“Mother died as gracefully as Kannon herself.”

“Because she was fair-skinned.”

By the stairs leading to the second floor hung two shamisen, still in their bags.
O-saki remembered that even as a child, these shamisen had hung here, and she had stood on tiptoe to touch the skin of their bodies with her fingers.

“Was Mother truly Granny’s own child?”

“She was my true child.”

“I heard Granny took in Mother and raised her, but I also heard that in your day taking in adopted children was common practice. Tell me the real truth.”

“What on earth are you doubting?”

“Then how old was Mother when she died?”

“………”

“I want to pay my respects to the mortuary tablet—which room is it in?”

“It’s in the room rented to others.”

“So you’re saying you can’t show it?”

“That’s right.”

“Whose mortuary tablet is it?”

“It’s mine.”

“There’s no rule saying Granny can’t look at her own things herself, is there? I want to see it—if you don’t show me, I won’t go back tonight.”

“O-saki, keep your voice down.”

“I only came to pay my respects.”

“Thirty years you left everything untouched, and now come storming in about mortuary tablets and where she died—what nerve to put on airs when you’ve never once brought even a rice cake offering!”

“It’s because I haven’t visited in thirty years that I came now—if you won’t show me, then fine, I don’t need to see it.”

As O-saki stood up, the man called Anshima—having finished plucking the small birds’ feathers—returned muttering “Cold, cold.” In the net bag, small birds resembling skinned mice lay cruelly piled up, their plucked feather patterns contrasting with this repulsive display of death.

“You’re going to eat these?”

“I eat them. Spring chicks are fatty and tasty.”

“Going back to the sand dunes tomorrow?”

“I’ll go. Can’t let a Sunday slip by.”

“Can you shoot a human with that gun?”

“I can shoot humans or bears—there’s nothing I can’t shoot.”

“What time tomorrow are you going to the sand dunes?”
“Early morning... Let’s see, around ten.”
“Around that time I’ll come along—could you show me where you shoot?”
“I’ll show you.”

“How can someone with a gentle face like yours take living creatures’ lives so calmly?”

“I don’t see them as living creatures…”

“Then what do you see them as?”

“To me, they look like delicious feasts.”

At that moment, the small front door clattered, and the three of them nervously strained their ears and eyes.
O-saki, knowing who had come to the front entrance, went out without saying a word to Granny.

Asakichi silently followed behind O-saki, who had taken the lead, and matched her quickened pace without altering his own.
O-saki walked the path toward the pine forest, paused briefly before the house, then immediately squatted by the hearth and lit the firewood.
Asakichi similarly crouched down and stoked the fire, and when the warmth of the firewood began to spread, he tried to touch O-saki’s back—but her back moved away.

“Don’t.”

“………”

“What’re you doin’? So damn stubborn.”

“But you came back.”

“No place to stay in town—just one night.”

“After that?”

“You’ll see later.”
“Just tonight.”

“What kinda crazy talk is this?”

“Strange things are strange from the start—what do I care if it’s strange?”

The next morning, O-saki woke early and washed her face with unusual care before trying to leave without eating breakfast. But when Asakichi stared into her eyes, he recognized that their sharp gleam showed none of her ordinary gaze's familiar workings.
When he asked where she was going at this hour, she answered she was just helping with the sardine nets and immediately went out through the front entrance.
Though she had thrown on an uncharacteristic haori jacket and was wearing new sandals—things he'd never seen her use before—Asakichi felt only violent turmoil churning in his chest.

O-saki headed straight for the windbreak forest where the sand dunes lay, avoiding the road as she crossed over small dunes.
The pine forest of the windbreak was bathed all at once in sunlight, glistening brightly, and each peak of the sand dunes was crowned with dazzling whirls of sunlight.
When she reached the Third Windbreak Forest, postal worker Anshima had just shot down a spring thrush.
Sharp-eared O-saki picked up the thrush and handed it to Anshima.
Anshima kept shooting small bird after small bird. Most fell with their wings crushed, dying while still retaining their body heat.

As Anshima squatted on the withered grass to take a smoke break, O-saki went to the pine tree's base where the gun was propped up. She lifted the firearm and remarked, "Heavy, isn't it? I didn't think it'd be this heavy."
At that very moment—perhaps because O-saki's hand had pulled the trigger—the gunshot pierced Anshima's ears and sent him bolting.
O-saki stood in the gunsmoke, her eyes now glinting with even fiercer intensity than before.

“What are you doing? You came here because you wanted to do this yourself.”

“……”

O-saki clung to the gun as if hanging from it, her grip unrelenting. “This isn’t your toy—let go of it!” Anshima’s face paled as he finally seized the gun away.
O-saki stepped back a few steps at that moment and said, “Please.”

“You—won’t you shoot me once?”

Anshima suddenly descended the sand dune without replying.
O-saki gazed at the sand that looked charred black, then looked at Anshima's retreating back and muttered bitterly to herself: "What a coward—takes so many lives but can't take mine." She too then descended the sand dune.