Pathway to Japanese Literature

I

“It’s rather improper to defend a thief.”

Baron Tosen slightly furrowed his refined face and let cigar smoke drift through his salt-and-pepper mustache.

On Sunday at two in the afternoon, the young men gathered in the small parlor of the baron’s estate were spending a tranquil spring afternoon engaged in lively idle chatter around their host.

“I don’t mean to take his side,” said Kurozu Takeshi, “but that thief calling himself ‘Kansaburo’—I simply can’t bring myself to hate him.”
“First off, the man’s an astonishing sportsman…”

This referred to Kurozu Takeshi, a company employee with the trim physique of an athlete. Though clad in a serious navy suit befitting his office duties, he was precisely the sort of dashing figure who could shed his jacket at any moment and be ready to grip a racket.

“If that’s how you put it,” came the response, “it sounds like you yourself might’ve been targeted.”

This was Miyao Keiichiro—a wealthy heir and the very epitome of an idle young man of leisure. A connoisseur of film, sports, and music, his sole unknowns were how to draw a salary and how to turn a profit.

“It’s not me—my uncle was the one who was targeted.”

“Your uncle?
Ah, I see. Your uncle would be the wealthy Mr. Tsutsui, right? If I recall correctly, wasn’t it said that someone slipped in through the air vent by climbing the lightning rod and effortlessly made off with all those magatama beads, tubular beads, and splendid ancient jewels he held as collateral?”

“That’s right—I shouldn’t speak ill of my uncle, but when even society calls him ‘Hellish Tsutsui,’ you know his methods were thoroughly rotten.”

“And those ancient jewels—weren’t they items entrusted by a famous collector’s bereaved family? When the owner tearfully begged for their return after being just two or three days late on repayment, he stubbornly refused to give them back—or so the story goes?”

“Exactly. Much as it pains me to admit, I can’t defend my uncle either—no wonder that self-proclaimed righteous thief Kansaburo took notice of him.”

“Oh, Mr. Kurozu, you really shouldn’t speak so ill of your uncle.”

From behind them came a refined, beautiful voice. When they turned to look, there stood a stunningly beautiful girl in an opal-colored Western dress, her back to the door leading to the next room.

“Oh, Miss Eiko—you’ve come at the perfect time.”

The young men half-rose to welcome this beautiful woman.
She was Baron Tosen’s only child—a model young lady of beauty and talent, whose photos in varying poses never failed to appear two or three times a month in women’s magazines—a young lady who seemed to bear the popularity of an entire generation.
“The reason Mr. Kurozu badmouths his uncle is simply because he doesn’t get a generous enough allowance…”

“Oh, come now!”

“Hey! Don’t spout such nonsense! Unlike a layabout like you, I’m a self-sufficient salarywoman—hardly so wretched as to fret over pocket money!”

“Ha ha ha! Now, now, don’t get angry. By the way, Miss Eiko, we were just discussing Kansaburo here—what are your thoughts?”

“My, how dashing!”

“Do you mean people despised Kansaburo, or that they admired him?”

“I have nothing to hate about him. Kansaburo may be a mysterious thief who appears and disappears like a ghost, but he never does anything spiteful or cruel. On the contrary, doesn’t he punish evildoers and help the weak? Exactly like Arsène Lupin—nimble, adventurous, cheerful, bold, and above all, wonderfully chivalrous!”

“Now, now—this thief worship should be kept in check. Professor Miyama, what are your thoughts on the matter?”

“…………”

When called by the Baron, the one who slightly raised his face was Miyama Shigeru—a young university professor who had stationed himself apart on a sofa.

His eyes—lifted from the thick foreign-language book he had been absorbed in until now—sank into deep meditation, as if he could not even grasp what had just been asked of him. Then, as though prompted once more, he quietly looked up at the Baron’s face and blinked those obsidian-like eyes.

“Do you know of the great thief known as Kansaburo?”

“No, not at all… He must be like Ishikawa Goemon.”

“Pfft.”

Finally, they all burst out laughing.

II

“Indeed, Professor Miyama is still Professor Miyama.”

The Baron directed a strange glance—both pitying and consoling—toward this young professor.

“The fact that Kansaburo doesn’t claim to be the improver of the internal combustion engine is at least something of a find.”

Miyao Keiichiro boldly thrust out his chin.

“Now, just a moment.”

Kurozu Takeshi stopped Miyama Shigeru, who was about to pick up the foreign-language book once again,

“I can’t stand people like you who do nothing but read books. Why don’t you try engaging in some ordinary conversation for once?”

Almost taking the young professor’s hand, they led him into their midst.

“Thank you, but I have absolutely nothing to talk about. If I speak of improving the internal combustion engine, you will all just laugh at me...”

Even so, he offered a lonely smile, faced the Baron and his daughter, and took a seat between Kurozu and Miyao.

Twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, he was a taciturn young man of fine character with an air of inexplicable dignity about him. A specialist in internal combustion engines—one who could obtain his doctorate at any time were he to publish his thesis—it was rumored that Baron Tosen’s company had secured immense profits by leveraging his research. Of course—though it might seem odd to phrase it so—in exchange for this benefit, he stood betrothed to Miss Eiko, with arrangements having progressed as far as planning their formal wedding ceremony that spring.

“I must say I respect your dedication to study, Professor Miyama, but you’re neglecting your body too much. If you keep developing your head alone like this, the human race will meet its physiological extinction.”

“Thank you, but I simply can’t bring myself to engage in that sort of physical exercise.”

Even as he offered light rebuttals to Kurozu’s harsh attacks, his attention kept drifting back toward the foreign-language book he had left on the sofa.

“Kansaburo is what’s called a master thief who’s been causing a stir in society lately—but oddly enough, this burglar is quite popular with the ladies.”
“For instance, something like Miss Eiko’s current defense of him—as her fiancé, it couldn’t have failed to strike your ears as odd...”

“Oh, Mr. Kurozu, what are you saying…”

“Miss Eiko, do keep silent for a moment—… Now then, Professor Miyama.”
“Kansaburo’s popularity naturally stems from his chivalrous code, but the decisive factor lies in his formidable physical prowess.”
“Though none have seen his face, the very manner he vaults across gables, scales roof beams, shimmies up siding, defies natural laws to run wild—that’s what ignites the fascination of thrill-seeking ladies…”

“So…”

A difficult-to-unravel doubt drifted across Miyama Shigeru’s face like frozen clouds.

“So… this is quite troublesome. With you making such a cold face like that, the conversation just won’t flow smoothly…”

“What sort of face should I be making?”

“Enough with the formalities—if you’d discard that *logical* expression of yours and at least pretend to look sociable, my words might flow more smoothly… Ah, never mind. I’ll just spit out the conclusion.”
“Here’s the thing—if you stay obsessively glued to your books and never think about exercise or hobbies, you’ll naturally make a bad impression on modern young ladies. That’s what I’m saying.”
“Even if you don’t have Kansaburo’s physical strength, I’d at least like modern youths like you to train their bodies through sports, as I and Mr. Miyao do.”

“…………”

Miyama Shigeru finally returned to the sofa.
For this young scholar, the ornate foreign script held more allure than the splendid beauty of his betrothed princess.
All the more so, Kurozu Takeshi’s long-winded speech was not even worth considering.

“Oh, Professor Miyama…”

As she watched the retreating figure of her future husband—who had withdrawn from her presence with a casualness akin to discarding refuse—the beautiful princess’s eyes burned with unmistakable reproach.

Just then, a young maid entered carrying a porcelain tray with precisely enough coffee cups for everyone.
As she arranged the splendid cups—each accompanied by a silver spoon—upon the table one by one, an exquisite fragrance permeated the parlor, evoking that particular mid-afternoon ambiance.

“This coffee is my pride—I had the beans specially imported from the South Seas and meticulously roasted them here at home, but...”

Like any conventional aristocrat, Baron Tosen felt a modest pride in this laboriously crafted beverage as he took up his spoon, yet—

“Hmm…”

He gazed into his cup and murmured.

“Oh!”

Eiko turned around sharply and called out to stop the maid who was trying to open the door.

“Otsuru, wait a moment. No one serves coffee with cream already mixed in.”
“What a clueless girl you are.”
“Redo it properly and bring them separately.”

At the harsh words, the young maid gasped and stood frozen in place—a petite girl whose rustic charm resembled a freshly dug mountain potato or fruit plucked straight from the branch, wildness radiating from her very being.

“Take that coffee away—throw it out or do whatever you want with it—then bring the sweets. Ah, and close the door properly.”

Completely flustered and with tears welling up, the young maid retreated in confusion. As she closed the door one-handed, the tray holding the coffee service slipped slickly from her grasp—before she could even gasp “Oh!”—and shattered into fragments on the corridor’s wooden floor.

“Ah, again?!”

The expensive French-made teacup was enough to make the Baron’s daughter lose her composure.
Soon, under a shower of cold gazes and harsh words, the young maid covered her tear-streaked face with both hands as red as ripe tomatoes.

III

“That girl is a complete savage.”

Baron Tosen, having regained some composure, sipped his second serving of coffee and stated as follows:

“It’s quite rare to find such people in Japan. Even if she is from the mountains, one would expect some basic decency—but she lacks not only manners and etiquette but even the most fundamental knowledge required for civilized life.”
“Even if we say education has spread, we still cannot rest easy. I intend to question the Minister of Education about this matter at the next Diet session.”

“But isn’t she a rather cute girl?”

After letting slip the remark, Miyao Keiichiro ducked his head.
The beautiful eyes of Princess Eiko were fixed piercingly on him—not exactly accusing, yet intensely scrutinizing.

“Oh, Mr. Miyao. Why on earth would men prefer such an ignorant girl?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“I simply cannot understand it—such an ill-mannered, lazy, barbaric girl… Oh, right! That girl was the one you brought from your hometown, Professor Miyama. I really shouldn’t speak too harshly of her.”

“I’m terribly sorry…”

Whether the conversation finally caught his attention, the young professor closed the foreign-language book he always had and looked up.

“But is your hometown truly such a place? Its customs and sensibilities are utterly different from ours.”

In the beautiful princess's tone, a bitter inflection still lingered.

"After all, she was a girl raised in the mountains among monkeys and bears—there's no reason she'd know the manners and etiquette of city people."
"Instead, she's honest and innocent—she doesn't even know how to lie like city people."

"What do you suppose would happen if she told a lie on top of all that?"

"..."

Disjointed feelings, a discordant atmosphere—the group once again fell into awkward silence.

Breaking the awkward silence came swift footsteps in the corridor.

“My Lord, a terrible incident has occurred!”

“What?”

“It’s—!”

It was Honto, the steward—who usually wore an expression of perfect composure—that came tumbling into the parlor in a flurry.
Gasping for breath,

“The safe door has opened without anyone noticing, and the inside has been completely ransacked.”

“Ah!”

Even Baron Tosen turned pale and stood frozen.
Since it was the safe of a baronial house that prided itself on wealth and power—though what exactly lay inside remained unclear—this was no trivial matter like shattering a French-made coffee cup.

The five of them clustered together, flew down the staircase like lightning bolts, and burst into the Baron’s study. There yawned the large safe’s door, gaping open in a V-shape, its drawers inside seemingly tossed into chaos. As the Baron frantically pulled them open one after another, the full devastation revealed itself at a glance.

“What about the jewels?”

“They’re safe.”

“The securities?”

“They’re untouched.”

“Cash?”

“It’s all there.”

Answering Eiko and Honto’s questions, the Baron’s hands moved busily from one item to another.

“Then perhaps…the design plans?”

“That’s right. The most important thing is missing.”

The Baron’s face, as he turned around, was twisted and deathly pale, drained of all color.

“Father, then it really was…”

“This is no ordinary thief, Professor Miyama—as you can see, the new internal combustion engine design plans you painstakingly invented, said to astonish the world, have been stolen.”

“—”

A deep, dreadful silence dominated the gathering.
As if awaiting the Baron’s next words, they exchanged glances, yielding to the abnormal tension.

“Those design plans should have been returned to you long ago.”
“But as the company intended to acquire them from you—despite your repeated demands—I reluctantly kept them—”

“—”

“If those were lost, your loss would be inevitable, but the company’s damage would be immeasurably grave.”

“Call the police.”

In response to someone’s voice, Honto was about to pick up the desk phone when—

“Wait!”

The Baron pulled the telephone cord to stop him while saying,
“Given our relations with competing companies, I’d prefer to avoid making this public if possible. That secret is far too significant—we should investigate a bit more before proceeding.”

IV

The reason nobody noticed the study safe being open was that today being Sunday, neither Baron Tosen nor Honto had visited the study since morning, and Otsuru—the cleaning maid being that mountain girl—hadn’t paid any mind to whether the safe was open or closed.

Upon closer inspection, it was clear the safe showed no damage and had been opened with a duplicate key. But then arose the first mystery: how had they come to know the combination code?

The combination code was known only to Baron Tosen and Honto; even Miss Eiko had not been aware of it.

“Honto, there hasn’t been any incident where the combination code was disclosed to others, has there?”

“That’s absurd—”

Honto initially responded promptly to Baron Tosen’s question, but then—as if struck by something—his expression hardened and he sank into deep thought.

“What is the matter?”

“It’s nothing at all, and I’m sure it’s probably nothing… But a few days ago, my notebook went missing. After searching all the likely places for half a day, Otsuru returned it to me, saying she found it in the garden.”

“What of it?”

“I was busy with investigative tasks all day that day and didn’t go out to the garden even once.”
“I thought it was strange, but… later, when I checked, it seemed the entire page with the safe’s combination code I’d written in that notebook had been torn out cleanly…”

“What?”
“This is no trivial matter! Call Otsuru!”

“Father, that girl is suspicious. Every morning during cleaning time, she spends ages fiddling with the safe’s lock.”
“I simply thought that being from the mountains, she found the safe unfamiliar and was fascinated by it, but…”
“Very well, I’ve figured it out. Otsuru couldn’t possibly have the wit to open the safe. There must be someone who used her as a pawn to take the design plans from inside.”
The Baron’s eyes swept sharply across the room before locking onto Miyama Shigeru’s deeply somber face.

Was it not solely to obtain the stolen design plans that he had sought to detain this young professor of obscure origins—sacrificing Miss Eiko, his treasured only daughter, that model of beauty and intellect said to be capable of wedding or adopting any highborn scion she might choose?

Yet despite this, that young professor remained more fixated on the design plans than Miss Eiko himself, having pressed Baron Tosen time and again for their return.

Moreover,—and this was the most critical point—Otsuru was a girl from Miyama's hometown, and while no one knew the exact nature of her relationship with him, even those not as prone to petty jealousy as Miss Eiko had noticed her unmistakable admiration for Miyama—a fact recognized by everyone in the mansion.

"You're the one who guided the thief, aren't you?"

Shoved by Honto onto the carpet, Otsuru barely lifted her face.

"No, I don't know nothin'!"

Perhaps due to agitation, her barely subdued country dialect reverted entirely to its raw form.

“You can’t claim ignorance—you must have read the combination code written in the notebook and informed someone about it.”

“…………”

“Now then—who was your accomplice? If you don’t talk, I’ll have the police throw you into a dark cell!”

“I don’t know nothin’ at all!”

What could this girl possibly know? Her upturned eyes were as pure as the stars twinkling in the heavens.

“She really doesn’t know.”

“Honto—you won’t make her talk so easily with such methods. Despite that pretty face of hers, she’s terribly stubborn. You’ll need to devise something more effective.”

Miss Eiko said something utterly improper.

“Ah! What’s that?”

Someone uttered a shrill cry.

When they looked up, the small vent window above the large iron-barred window stood half-open, and on its glass with chalk—

Kansaburo

Kansaburo" was flamboyantly written in four characters there, practically proclaiming, “I entered through here.”

“Ah!”

“It’s Kansaburo!”

“This is no simple matter.”

Voices erupted in a mix of shock and admiration.
Given this turn of events, there was no longer any room left for praising Kansaburo.

5

“Ah! Help!”

Otsuru struggled desperately, but several burly men lifted her up and threw her down onto the gravel of the rooftop garden with a heavy thud.

“Now then, bring out Bull. This girl was raised with monkeys as friends, so she’s developed a strange fear of dogs.”

A cruel smile flickered across Eiko’s beautiful face.

“Release it!”

The bulldog—a fierce beast restrained by two chains, a black-and-white spotted creature the size of a calf—was let loose in mock amusement by the students, whereupon Eiko personally opened the reinforced door leading to the rooftop garden.

“Now then, Otsuru—you’ll stay here with Bull for a while. That dog’s worked up, so who knows what he might do. If you don’t like it, tell us who opened the safe and what became of the design plans. Understood? If you decide to talk, knock three times on this door—then I’ll open it. But as long as you don’t name your accomplice, I won’t open this place even if years pass.”

With a *clang*, the heavy iron door shut, the key slipping smoothly into some fold of Eiko’s person.

“Aah! Help! Heeelp!”

Amidst the screams and the fierce dog’s barks, leaving behind the terrifying scene of the rooftop garden and stationing a single student as a guard, Eiko quietly returned to the main parlor.

“What’s wrong?”

“Otsuru is getting along nicely with Bull in the rooftop garden.”

In Eiko’s eyes as she answered her father the Baron was the pride and beauty of an Egyptian queen who had thrown her love rival into a crocodile’s jaws.

“That rooftop garden sits sixty feet above the ground. Tall buildings aren’t all bad at times like these.”

“Moreover—thanks to being in the suburbs—houses outside your estate are five or six blocks away. Even if someone were to scream at the top of their lungs… they wouldn’t be heard.”

Kurozu said this while gazing at the evening view from the window in a flattering manner toward the Baron.

When the conversation lapsed, a dreadful silence once again claimed the gathering—and from overhead came faint screams and a fierce dog’s growls, all audible as clearly as if held in the palm of one’s hand.

An irresistible pressure brought cold sweat to Miyao’s, Kurozu’s, and the Baron’s brows, their eyes snapping wide open to stare at the sky—yet among them, only two waited calmly for the incident’s outcome as though nothing had ever happened.

One was Miss Eiko—her radiant, beautiful face even bore a smile.
The other was Miyama Shigeru—with a face as cold as an iron mask, engrossed in that foreign-language book with its ornate script.

“Miss Eiko.”

After some time, Miyama Shigeru—having quietly closed his foreign-language book—approached the beautifully composed Eiko and called out to her.

“—”

In the princess’s eyes—silently looking up at the man’s face—a flame that could be neither seduction nor resentment blazed fiercely.

“Give me the key to the rooftop garden.”

“What do you intend to do?”

“I must save Otsuru.”

Words like the clang of hot iron being struck—

“What is that girl to you?”

“Lover.”

“What? Then what about me?”

“A stranger.”

These were words like shattering ice.

“No, no!”

Instantly, Eiko’s face lost all color. Clutching her chest with both hands, she began rubbing her body.

“Hand it over. That girl is far more sacred than you—she is not a woman raised amid crimes and grime. She is nature’s masterpiece, nurtured in the untrodden sacred ground of the Central Mountain Range.”

“This—are you insulting a girl? How utterly rude!”

With the enraged Baron in their periphery,

“Baron, you must not be angry. Is a woman who drives a lone girl into the rooftop garden alongside a wild beast worthy of respect?”

“What are you saying? That woman acted as an accomplice to a thief! Such a thing is nothing!”

“You keep saying ‘thief, thief,’ Baron—but what exactly was stolen from you?”

“————”

“Since the design plans are mine, if there’s a victim regarding them, it must be me.”
“With all due respect, the Baron should not possess any right to drive that girl to her death.”

“Professor Miyama, your words go too far. Even just bringing in a thief and having the safe opened is a serious crime, isn’t it?”

Without even turning to look at Kurozu Takeshi’s show of loyalty,

“That’s none of your concern… Now give me the key.”

“There’s no such thing here,”
“I lost it somewhere.”

Miss Eiko’s beautiful face twisted taut, on the verge of tears.

“There’s no helping it—we’ve no time to argue.”
“In that case, even if I take alternative measures to save that girl, you mustn’t raise objections.”

Having driven home his final warning, he briskly removed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt—revealing unexpectedly impressive arms—as he braced them against the window frame while,

“Sportsmen, watch and learn.”
“Mine is mountain man-style martial arts—your methods take a different approach altogether.”

Before he had even finished speaking, his body stretched fluidly out the window—with one push-off, spun around, and through sheer force of will was already standing atop the window frame.

“Ah!”

In less time than it took to voice that cry—

This parlor—crafted to frame views of Musashino’s plains and Mount Fuji—stood as a second small salon specially constructed on the fourth floor; above it lay an attic storage space, and higher still extended the castle-style parapet adjoining the rooftop garden.

Mocking the four faces peering out from the window, the young professor’s body became a blur too swift for the eye to follow—scaling both gutters, traversing projections, striding across sixty shaku of height as if on flat ground—and after two or three bold leaps, his figure had already vanished into the castle-style parapet of the rooftop garden.

Six

“Shigeru!”

“Otsuru, are you unhurt?”

Cornered by the bulldog, the girl who had been crouching in a corner of the parapet as if lifeless instinctively leaped at the young professor and bit into his neck.

“I’m so scared,”

Like a frightened dove, she pressed her round cheeks into the white shirt’s chest.
Her round black eyes—though wide with fear—were too pure for any woman of this world.

“That’s enough—don’t worry. If it weren’t for needing to retrieve the design plans, I’d never have come near this mansion. I’ll send you off and return to the mountains myself—I must never again get the idea of coming to Tokyo or anywhere like it.”

“Are you really plannin’ to go back to the mountains?”

“That’s right, that’s right.”

“What ’bout your promise to become the Baron’s son-in-law here?”

“It’s disagreeable. I flatly refuse.”

“I mustn’t hinder your success… I’d rather die than let that happen. You should become the young lady’s husband.”

“What foolishness.”

“If even one Baron came from those mountains, think how proud everyone back home’d feel.”
“When I came to Tokyo, I never chased after you—you’ve got your path, Shigeru. They say you’re meant to be the Baron’s son-in-law.”
“Father warned me time an’ again—‘Don’t you go clingin’ an’ hinderin’ Shigeru’s rise,’ he did.”

“Country folk are honest—you spout such nonsense without knowin’ my heart?”

“So I’d rather die than let you fall out with the Baron and Miss Eiko and bury yourself in the mountains—I can’t face Father then. Shigeru… farewell.”

No sooner had the girl’s warm lips gently touched Miyama’s cheek than she slipped under his arm like a fleeing rabbit and clambered up the three-foot parapet.

“Ah!”

He thought—but it was already too late. So abrupt was it all that by the time he realized, the girl’s body was already halfway over the parapet. Sixty shaku below lay polished granite paving stones; were she to jump now, there wouldn’t be one chance in a thousand of survival.
Instinctively closing his eyes,
“Otsuru, wait!”
Stumbling as he ran,

“Huh?!”

The girl who should have jumped to her death clung desperately to Miyama. Looking closer, the bulldog—as large as a calf—must have seized Otsuru’s hem and pulled her back from the parapet. Now tugging playfully at her hem, it sent her fleeing in disarray, her shins exposed.

“That was close! So this time the bulldog saved you? There, there… You mustn’t entertain such foolish ideas. Understand? You survived because you’re more afraid of the dog than the stone pavement. In the village where we were born, there are no dogs or cats.”

While stroking the girl’s back, Miyama let out a relieved sigh.

“Listen well now. Had we never left that mountain village, neither you nor I would’ve suffered like this. We could’ve stayed shut away in that three-house hamlet deep in the mountains—eating, sleeping, living quietly for decades, centuries even—and ended our days in peace.”

“I wasn’t completely ignorant that we’d been promised since before birth—but tempted by my modest intellect, I thought to try making something of myself in Tokyo. Even while fully understanding the Baron’s empty coffers, I wavered—even once considered becoming his son-in-law no bad thing. Forgive me... Otsuru.”

The man’s voice held a strange sincerity. The girl buried her face in his chest, listening tearfully.

“You’ve probably heard this before, but over ten years ago now, I was taken by a forestry district official who happened to come to our village. I was shown this terrifying world, flattered about being smart or whatever, and even got sent to university.”

“If my benefactor had lived, I might have gone on to earn a doctorate. But when he passed away from a sudden illness last year, I was left as my old self alone, and all such ambitions vanished completely.”

“Moreover, lately I can’t help but feel the path I’ve walked was fundamentally wrong… In my veins surges the wild blood of ancestors who once leapt from mountain to mountain and valley to valley alongside monkeys and bears.”

Cutting green bamboo, spearing trout and char in the valley rivers, living off them raw—scaling Sword’s Peak, Thousand Wishes Rock, and Saranokoshirazu, those sword-blade crags where I once captured beasts and birds alive—I ached unbearably for that old life.

“Otsuru, I made up my mind to return to the mountains. Let’s live a carefree, peaceful life together there. I’ve grown utterly weary of this city life filled with urbanites’ pretenses and built on lies.”

“To my eyes, the modern girls in this mansion are monstrosities. Don’t worry—you couldn’t possibly know how much more beautiful you are.”

“Because they made off with the design plans, I had no choice but to get engaged—but I have absolutely no intention of being with such a monster.”

“Even the design plans—now that it’s come to this, I don’t care about them anymore.”

“But I don’t want those plans falling into the Baron’s company’s hands. Fortunately, they’ve come back to me, so I’ll present them to the government. Then you and I can return to the mountains and go back to being plain old Shigeru.”

“We’ll spear trout, catch boars—come autumn those mountains will be bursting with chestnuts. There’ll be mountain yams, grated yam, lilies… more than we could ever eat. What could possibly be appealing about staying in this filthy town……?”

“Is that true?”
“Yes, it’s true.”

“Shigeru…”

The girl could no longer even say "I'm happy." The man's chest was soaked through with tears, and the spring sunset cast its final light across the entire rooftop garden.

Seven

Combining the two chains attached to Bull’s neck, Miyama’s fastened band, and Otsuru’s waist cord, a single lifeline rope descended from the lightning rod to the fifth-floor window.

Climbing down it and carrying a single girl was nothing for mountain man Miyama Shigeru.

After carrying Otsuru through the window, Miyama took the coat he had removed and left on the sofa, put it on, and completely transformed back into the young professor.

Just like that—refraining from taking Otsuru’s hand, not even glancing back at the stern-faced group—he was about to slip away when…

“Wait!”
Someone called out from behind.

…………

Silently turning his face to meet it head-on,

“You’re Kansaburo, aren’t you?”

The one throwing his weight around was Kurozu Takeshi.

“Why?”

“That agility of yours isn’t something ordinary.”

“Nonsense.”

“Don’t move! I’ve already summoned the police.”

“Even if ordered not to leave, I must decline further stay here. This benefits neither of us.”
“My agility comes from growing up deep in the mountains, living among monkeys and boars—my training differs fundamentally from your sports.”
“My homeland lies twenty ri beyond Keibikei Gorge, in the Central Mountain Range’s basin where outsiders visit less than once every three years. Such upbringing naturally breeds agility. Should you doubt this, come see for yourself.”

“No! Save your excuses for the police—don’t run away!”

Kurozu became frantic and blocked the exit.

“Hey, hey—don’t get in my way. I’m returning to the mountains. If you’re so desperate to know Kansaburo’s true identity, shall I tell you? That person right there—the one you’ve been inquiring about—is the gentleman in question.”

The person he pointed to was Miyao Keiichiro—the quintessential modern boy, a wealthy playboy who knew everything about useless matters but nothing that could contribute to putting food on the table.

“Don’t spout such nonsense! That’s Mr. Miyao!”

“That’s right—Miyao Keiichiro, also known as Kansaburo. The brilliance of Mr. Miyao’s martial arts differs from my mountain man’s methods.”

“Don’t talk nonsense!”

“Whether it’s nonsense or not, look at Mr. Miyao’s face—see how he’s smiling? Kansaburo is the benefactor who retrieved the design plans from the Baron’s safe for my sake. I had resolved never to tell anyone no matter what, but seeing Mr. Miyao’s face now, it seems permissible to speak. I’m telling you this to dispel your confusion.”

“Kansaburo isn’t the sort of person who would silently stand by and let me be inconvenienced.”

The group’s astonishment reached its peak.
When eight pairs of eyes—having until now thought of Miyao Keiichiro as nothing but an incompetent, good-natured young master—involuntarily fixed upon his face, Miyao grinned, his smile spilling over,

“Everyone, I have returned Professor Miyama’s new internal combustion engine design plans and Otsuru’s love to him. Just as I returned the ancient treasured jewel from Mr. Kurozu’s uncle to its rightful owner, it brings me joy to see all things restored to their proper possessors. That is my work. However, there are still two items left to return. One is a piece of chalk—please return this to the gatekeeper’s boy. The other is the paper with the safe’s combination code torn from the notebook—I would like this returned to Honto, the steward. Well then, everyone—especially to the health of the lovely young lady, Princess Eiko. What a splendid lesson it must have been for you to lose to a minor rival like Otsuru in your little game of love. The trump card in the game of love isn’t cultured knowledge or academic learning—it’s a single thing: sincerity. You understand now, don’t you? Well then.”

Just as Miyama Shigeru had done earlier, he grabbed the window frame, floated his body, and smoothly descended.

“Ah—the police squad’s just entering the gate now? A bit late. By the time they climb up here, I’ll have switched places and exited through the gate. That’s the plan.”

He swiftly lowered his posture, sidled along a narrow ledge, twisted his body once more, and slipped smoothly into the open third-floor window to conceal himself.