Pathway to Japanese Literature

Scene I

(A room about six tatami mats in size.
One desk and one rice chest were placed there.
The adjacent area consisted of an earthen floor.
On the earthen floor stood a potter’s wheel and pottery clay, along with five or six finished teapots and tea bowls.

(In the room, Rengetsu-ni and the Unnamed Youth sat facing each other.)

Unnamed Youth: "I’ve finally found this poem card and brought it here."

Rengetsu — (received the poem card from the youth and read) — *"Faintly glimpsed through trees—dew on pale maple leaves—the first stirrings of longing."* — "This is a poem I once wrote and presented to someone in Kyoto when requested."
"How did you come to write this?"

Unnamed Youth: “You who compose such poems—it’s unthinkable that you could lack understanding of human feelings.”
“I am happy to have discovered it.”

Rengetsu: “I don’t recall ever telling you that I lack understanding of human feelings.”
“I myself am troubled by a tearful disposition more than most.”

Unnamed Youth: “You understand human feelings and are tenderhearted, yet you refuse to accept my passion—it must be because you dislike me after all.”

Rengetsu: “Perish the thought.
It is not a matter of liking or disliking you—such extravagance does not apply.
I am already a person cast off from such a world.
To be honest, I am one who has been drawn out into a realm beyond that.”

Unnamed Youth: “Can there truly be a world beyond sincere love?”

Rengetsu: “Rather than whether it exists or not, allow me to speak of this state of mind I could no longer do without.
I too have known married life as a woman who bore two or three children.
Though ours was an arranged union, love blossomed fully between us during those years, and our children grew most dear.
As a life of love, it proved quite happy.
Yet all at once I had this taken from me.
My husband and children perished with cruel ease.
How could I resign myself without accepting this as fate?
There’s no counting how often I resolved—as worldly sentiment dictates—to die and follow them.
But what stayed my hand was one remaining parent.
I had an aged father to sustain, forcing me to postpone death awhile.”

Unnamed Youth: “This may be the first time I’m hearing the details—but I’ve long known much about your circumstances. So are you saying that because this world is impermanent, you’ve even lost faith in love?”

Rengetsu: “Do you truly believe someone cast down from blissful heights to wretched depths still retains either courage or vitality to willingly repeat such torment?”

Unnamed Youth: “My love cannot be overturned by death or impermanence.”
“My love shall sustain you eternally.”

Rengetsu: “That is what you youths declare.”
“I too spoke thus at your age—convinced of such convictions.”
“But when reality strikes—when warm hands that once grazed my surroundings vanish, when small heads of hair I used to comb disappear before me—how can one blithely speak of love’s eternity?”
“In truth, they all fade away.”
“Leaving only this lingering ache to carve and torment me.”
“In deepest despair, I even harbored warped resentment toward those departed loved ones—deeming them selfish for abandoning what I cherished so.”

Unnamed Youth: “……”

Rengetsu — “Having heard all this, do you still feel compelled to bind me to love?”

Unnamed Youth — “So then—do you intend to go on living as an empty shell, remaining in despair for the sake of a single parent?”
What a cruel way to live.
“Having heard that, I want to support you all the more.”

Rengetsu: “Hohoho, I thank you for your sympathy.”
“However, human beings cannot possibly live on in a state of despair.”
“Even those in despair discover a rebellious willpower atop that very despair and endure to live on through its strength.”

Unnamed Youth: “So then—are you living solely for Father?”
“Does Father also love you that much?”

Rengetsu — Father does love me as well.
"However, even this cannot escape the heartlessness of the fleeting world and the impermanence of all phenomena."
"I consider even this ultimately ephemeral as foam."

Unnamed Youth: Then what is the power?
"With what hope do you live on?"

Rengetsu — Thanks to misfortune, I was permitted to glimpse a world beyond.
"I was permitted to recognize that there exists a bright world breaking through the depths of darkness."
"If I were to fully immerse myself in that world, there would be no distinctions such as lovers or parents—I could join hands with all people and all things through indestructible life."
"Even if one speaks of dying, they can live eternally."
"How could those who place such a world before them not leap with joy and hasten down the path?"

Unnamed Youth: “Whether it be falsehood or truth, I shall surely go wherever you go and prove it.”
“Teach me.”
“The path to that world.”

Rengetsu: “That path remains unobstructed by all things.”
“When your love—one of this world’s attachments—ceases to hinder me, and when you strive not to dim that world’s innate moonlight, there shall the path reveal itself clearly.”

“Isn’t that a path one must walk with inhumanely passive resignation?”

Rengetsu — (Raising her hand to stop the youth’s words) “Do not let reasoning obstruct practice.”

(Rengetsu, suddenly noticing, picked up the poem card lying beside the desk.)

Rengetsu—"This is something I wrote when someone requested one of those poems I had composed and discarded long ago. I shall give this to you, so please exchange it for the poem card you brought from Kyoto."

(Rengetsu gave the poem card in hand to the youth, received the poem card held by him, and tore it up.)

“Ah!”

“I must attend to today’s duties, so I shall take my leave here. You should return home quickly and attend to your studies.”

(Rengetsu descended to the earthen floor and faced the potter’s wheel.)
The youth reluctantly stood up, descended to the garden, and attempted to leave through the brushwood door—but then read the poem card given by Otagaki Rengetsu.

Unnamed Youth — When did the tears on the sleeve become dew along the path of Dharma I have come to know—transient dew upon the roadside grass.

(The youth turned to look at Rengetsu.)
(Otagaki Rengetsu, with tears welling in her eyes, was devotedly shaping matcha tea bowls.)

Scene II

(The same hermitage setting as before. A splendid samurai lord sat on the room's edge with two retainers.)
In response, Rengetsu—neither particularly amiable nor unfriendly—with an utterly natural demeanor took down finished ceramic pieces from the shelf exactly as the samurai requested and showed them.

“There are no other completed pieces beyond these.”

Samurai Lord — “No—this will suffice.”
“Each piece carries its own refined charm, but particularly this complete tea set with frog patterns inspired by ‘The Wind Through Pines’ poetry stands apart from worldly concerns with unworldly elegance.”
“I shall take this set.”

Rengetsu — “I’m afraid they’re rather clumsy.”

Retainer 1 — “Ms. Rengetsu’s kana calligraphy has gained such esteemed recognition in society today—to think you’ve even come to paint so beautifully! What remarkable skill you possess.”

“Hohoho, you honor me too greatly by calling these paintings,” Rengetsu demurred, her fingers tracing the clay’s damp surface. “They’re but idle sketches serving as patterns.”

“No—this is far from mere doodles,” Retainer 2 countered. “When one’s soul becomes truly polished, whatever they create transcends mere craftsmanship. Why, these frog paintings possess such noble refinement that Kyoto’s professional artists couldn’t begin to match them.”

“No—these are truly just an amateur woman’s idle scribbles,” said Rengetsu. “Since this was my first time drawing frogs—not knowing whether their hands had five fingers or three—I even went to the rice field out back, caught one, and had it show me its fingers.”

The samurai lord laughed—“Hahahaha.”

Retainer 1 — Hahahaha.

Retainer 2 — Hahaha.
“That is precisely what makes it pure and noble.”

(Rengetsu, listening without heeding the guests’ praises, began putting away the items.)

“Oh, I have imposed on you quite extensively,” said the samurai lord.
“Then I shall take this and depart.”

“Is that indeed the case?” replied Rengetsu.
“My apologies.”
“Then I shall prepare the wrapping paper.”

(The retainers received the wrapping paper from Rengetsu, wrapped the pottery, and tied it so it could be carried.)
The samurai lord who had stood up gave a slight signal to his retainers, so one of the retainers took out gold from his pocket and wrapped the gold in paper.

Retainer 1 — “Though meager, this is the payment.”

Rengetsu — “Thank you very much.”

(The samurai lord and his retinue departed.)

Rengetsu sat before the potter’s wheel on the earthen floor and began pottery work.

As the three guests exited through the brushwood door and walked a dozen or so ken away, Tessai—a Confucian scholar and painter around twenty-seven or twenty-eight—approached, bringing along his friend Kameda.
The two parties passed each other.
Tessai looked back at the samurai lord with a puzzled expression, but immediately regained his composure and came to a stop before the brushwood door.

“Listen—as I said earlier, the Nun detests ordinary visits and idle chatter, so you must not speak a word.”
“I’ll handle everything smoothly.”

Kameda — “That’s fine. I merely wish to confirm she’s the renowned Otagaki Rengetsu the Nun. Seeing that alone suffices.”

Tessai — “That very fame-conscious treatment ranks among the Nun’s deepest dislikes. She abhors being handled as a celebrity—moved lodgings so often they call her ‘Rengetsu the Frequent Mover.’ Don’t let even a flicker of sightseeing curiosity show.”

Kameda — “Rather severe.”
“Well then, I’ll entrust everything to your guidance.”

(Tessai timidly opened the brushwood door and entered with Kameda.)
Rengetsu remained seated before the potter’s wheel on the earthen floor, utterly absorbed in her work.

Tessai — “Good day—are you working?”

Rengetsu —……

Tessai — “You’re thoroughly immersed in your work, I see.”

(Rengetsu spoke without turning around.)

Rengetsu — Who is there?

Tessai — “It is I.”
“It’s Tessai.”

Rengetsu — “Mr. Tessai?”
“You must be busy with your studies—what brings you all this way?”

Tessai — “Uh—that one friend of mine says he wants pottery.”

Rengetsu — “Your friend?”
“So he wants my pottery?”

(Rengetsu turned her head for the first time and looked at Tessai and Kameda.)
(Kameda, flustered, bowed.)

Rengetsu — “Hohoho.”
“Mr. Tessai, you’ve ignored my instructions again.”
“Your friend doesn’t want pottery—he came to gawk at this shaven-headed woman, didn’t he?”

Tessai — “I have no excuse………….”

Rengetsu — “Well, since you’ve gone to the trouble of bringing him along, do rest on the veranda.”

(Kameda, thoroughly overwhelmed, did nothing but bow repeatedly as he stiffly took a seat beside Tessai at the edge of the veranda.)
The two men appeared at a loss for what to do with themselves for a while.
Rengetsu returned to her pottery work.
For a time, only the creaking of the potter’s wheel lingered in the spring afternoon’s tranquility.
Kameda and Tessai began to whisper in hushed tones.
(Their voices gradually grew louder.)

Kameda — “She could at least say a word.”

Tessai — “Didn’t I tell you repeatedly earlier that it’s forbidden?”

Kameda — “But after all this trouble—”

Tessai — “No, no.”

(Rengetsu turned around.)

Rengetsu: “What are you arguing about?”

Tessai: “It’s nothing, really. This man says he wants to ask you something. When I first brought him here, I made a firm promise that we would only come and under no circumstances disturb you with conversation. And yet—”

Rengetsu: (cutting off Tessai) “What could youths like you possibly have to ask of this recluse nun?”

(Rengetsu rose from before the potter’s wheel and approached the room.)
(There, checking the hearth’s kettle for water temperature, she prepared tea and offered it to the two men, then moved near the veranda and sat down.)

Rengetsu — “Well then, Mr. Tessai’s friend, go ahead and say what you came to say. Whether I can answer or not—I don’t know anything about that.”

Kameda — (like an earnest young man, adopting an overly formal tone) “Forgive my presumption, but I must ask: From Mr. Tessai I’ve often heard of you—that you’re a misanthrope seeking ideals in the afterlife. Why then do you labor so earnestly in this reality, making pottery to sell, writing poem cards to sell?”

Rengetsu — “Does one not work to eat?”

Kameda — “But your efforts appear to value labor itself beyond mere sustenance. A true misanthrope having abandoned hope in this world would find work meaningless—yet here you toil diligently. This seems contradictory to me.”

“You consider labor something done for purposes,” Rengetsu said. “That doubt arises from this view.” She shaped clay as she spoke, the wheel’s creak underscoring her words. “Mine differs. For me, working itself constitutes existence’s natural state. There exists no logic demanding we must labor for specific ends or obligations.” Her hands never paused. “I work simply because activity feels more natural than idleness—that alone suffices.”

Kameda — “So that’s why you’re a recluse?”

Rengetsu — “You have never renounced the world, nor would I presume to recommend it—but through lived experience I can say this: the more completely one renounces worldly ties, the more freely and effectively one may labor within this world.”
“For when I work without considering outcomes, I become unshackled from calculation—and having no obligations thrust upon me, move with greater ease.”
“This allows me to cultivate a pure state where work exists solely for its own sake.”
“Yet explaining it thus makes it sound like some pedantic instruction manual for reclusive living.”
“The truth is simpler—when you abandon worldly concerns, you find yourself working so intensely it becomes absurd, yet never feel you’re working at all.”

Kameda — “If you work like that, you and your parents can earn more than enough to live on.”
“What do you do with the surplus money?”

Rengetsu — (waving her hand to cut him off) “Let us stop here.”
“We’re both wasting our working time—aren’t you at an age where you should be devoting yourself to study?”

(Rengetsu returned to the potter’s wheel.)

Tessai — “Kameda, that’s enough now.”
“You’re truly breaching our agreement.”

(Kameda kowtowed and dejectedly rose to his feet.)
(Tessai began rising to his feet when he noticed the money pouch left by the samurai at the veranda's edge earlier, picking it up.)

Tessai — “Nun, you’ve left the money thrown out again.”
“How careless.”

Rengetsu — “That must be the payment for pottery left by the earlier customer.”

Tessai — “This is quite heavy for payment for pottery.”

“Please open it and check,” said Rengetsu.

Tessai’s eyes widened. “Koban! These are koban! Then those customers must be the party of three we passed earlier on the road.” He weighed the gold coins in his palm. “Those would be Lord △△ and his retainers. His lordship came incognito to buy pottery and left this behind.”

Rengetsu’s fingers stilled on her wheel. “Koban are too much payment for two sets of ceramics.” Her gaze sharpened. “Do you know where Lord △△ is staying?”

Tessai — “I know.”
“It’s Shijō Karasuma.”

Rengetsu — “Then in about ten days more pottery will have accumulated. Please take only the equivalent of the remaining balance and deliver it to his lodging.”

Tessai — “Understood.”

Rengetsu — “Also, since I currently have no need for that money, please apply it to the bridge expenses.”

“Then I’ll take custody of this and depart.”

(The two men bowed and exited through the brushwood door.)
(They reached the road.)

“What’s this bridge fund?”

“The nun is using her own funds to build a bridge over the Kamo River for aiding people.”

Kameda — “Hmm.”
(With an expression unable to contain his reverence, he looked back toward the nun and stood motionless for some time.)

Scene III

(Same hermitage room.)

The hour approached early night.
The sound of a spinning wheel drifted from nowhere, mingling with a waterwheel's creak.
Rengetsu—clad only in a white undergarment and waistcloth—faced the lamplight in the sitting area, diligently painting designs on unglazed dishes and bowls destined for tomorrow's kiln firing.

To the right, beyond a bamboo thicket, stood the head temple of the main compound.
Lamplight from behind its shoji screens faintly illuminated the bamboo stalks.

The temple's shoji slid open with a whisper, releasing only a voice that might have belonged to an old priest.

“Ms. Rengetsu,” it called through the night air, “not thinking of sleep yet?”

Rengetsu — (stopping her brush) “Is that you, Venerable Priest? Are you still awake as well?”

Old Priest — “Nah—just killin’ time with a go book here. But you—workin’ all day then night labor too? Ain’t that overdoin’ it?”

Rengetsu — “Not at all. I’m grateful—it fills me with vigor. Today again, thanks to your kindness, I worked my fill—climbed that veranda forty, fifty times through the day. Tonight painted seven, eight more bowls and plates. Nothing refreshes like this.”

Old Priest — “You’re such a diligent soul.”
“Take care not to overdo it.”

“I am most grateful.”

Old Priest — “Ah, I just remembered. You’re quite fond of radish leaves, I hear.”

Rengetsu — “Hohoho.
I happen to be a chicken’s rebirth incarnate.”

Old Priest — “Well then—tonight we stewed radish greens and fried tofu at my place. Let’s get you some.
C’mon over to the bamboo thicket.”

“Since it’s such a thoughtful gesture, I shall accept then.”

Rengetsu stepped down into the garden, leaned halfway into the bamboo thicket, and emerged moments later cradling dishes in both hands.

“Well now—are they intact?”
“Perfectly so.”
Their exchanges through the bamboo thicket had grown quite polished through repeated practice.

“Hohohohoho. I am the reincarnation of a chicken, you see.”

Old Priest — Hahahaha.

(Rengetsu returned to the sitting room, placed the dish atop the sutra desk, and set down a sheet of paper with feminine grace.)

Rengetsu — “Oh my, this is such a generous amount—I’m overwhelmed.”

Old Priest — “Oh, it’s nothing. If you’re still here tomorrow, I’ll bring more then.”

Rengetsu — “No need—that’s quite enough already.”

“Ahh... I’m getting mighty sleepy,” said the Old Priest. “After I tend to some business—think I’ll turn in for a proper rest.” He chuckled dryly. “But Ms. Rengetsu—burning that midnight oil ain’t healthy neither. Best quit while you’re ahead.”

Rengetsu — “I shall take care as best I can.”

Old Priest — “And another thing—you always sleep with the door wide open, Ms. Rengetsu. That ain’t good either. Even in the countryside, there are thieves, I tell you.”

Rengetsu — “Even if a thief were to enter, there would be nothing for them to take.”

Old Priest — “That ain’t necessarily so. Even if you lose just one pot, you’ll face hardship from that very day, I tell ya.”

Rengetsu — “I shall gratefully accept your concern.”

Old Priest — “Well then, good night.”
Rengetsu — “Do have a good rest.”

(The Old Priest entered while continuing to yawn.)
Rengetsu took up her brush once more and began working.
The night deepened.
The sounds of the spinning wheel and waterwheel had ceased.
The forest rustled lonesomely in the wind, and an owl began to hoot.
Rengetsu became absorbed in her work, devoting herself entirely to wielding her brush.

After some time, a masked man sneaked into the hermitage.
Seeing Rengetsu awake, he hesitated and nearly turned back, but then strove to regain his courage.
He repeated this behavior five or six times.
He tripped and made a noise on the veranda.
Rengetsu, noticing for the first time, set down her brush and peered into the darkness.

Rengetsu — (in a calm voice) “Who is there?”

Thief — “…Yes.”

“Who is there?”

(The thief, having resolved himself, drew a dagger from his pocket and stood upright before Rengetsu.)

“I am a thief.”

(Rengetsu quietly set down her brush and faced the thief.)

Rengetsu — “Is there something you desire in this humble hut?”

Thief — “I don’t want things that can be taken away so easily.”

Rengetsu — “How peculiar.”
“As you can see, I do not close this house’s doors at night.”
“The reason being that everything in this house is something I intend to give freely to those in need at any time.”
“Because there is nothing that has been elaborately hidden away.”

“Due to your disposition of not wishing to lead others into evil, you keep your doors open even at night, allowing even thieves to come and go freely like acquaintances or neighbors and give them things. I fully understand that mindset of yours. I entered knowing that. However, I have no intention of becoming a beggar who receives things without sin under the shelter of your mercy. I will become a sinner who continues to forcibly take things from you with all my strength.”

“How curious a request,” said Rengetsu. “There must be some particular reason behind it. But standing there blocking the way will only weary you. You face merely a woman alone. Why not rest your body at ease and speak your mind slowly?”

“I’ve grown to detest your compassionate words,” the thief countered. “Say no more. I must attend to my task.”

“Then I shall say nothing more. And what might this troublesome demand of yours be?”

(The tip of the thief’s dagger trembled slightly.)
(Then, in a resolute voice.)

Thief — “It’s nothing else.”
“It is your body I desire.”

(Rengetsu scrutinized the thief’s face.)
The thief turned his masked face away, as though avoiding that gaze.

“Aren’t you the young man from this morning—the one who exchanged that poem card with me…”

(The thief plopped down right there, breathing heavily for some time.)
(The thief eventually raised his face.)

“That’s right,” said the Unnamed Youth. “It’s me. I’ve become a demon.”

“How unfortunate this has turned out,” replied Rengetsu. “What could have made you so?”

“Your purity did this,” he answered.

Rengetsu — “I do not recall having caused you to do such a thing.”

Unnamed Youth — “Even if you have no memory of it, this outcome has taken root in my heart. When I heard your words this morning, I came to grasp both the transience of earthly love and the indestructibility of true love’s realm. And your heart—yearning toward that distant realm—came to seem something luminous and transparent as crystal.”

“After returning to my inn, I read the poem on that exchanged card countless times until part of my heart began yearning for that Pure Land of Tranquil Light—pure as yourself. Yet another part burns ever fiercer with love I cannot suppress.”

“What torments me most is this: whereas before hearing your words my entire being loved you with single-minded fervor, now half my heart burns while the other half sits coldly observing me—a passionate man shackled to a sardonic companion.”

“This has been my heart’s condition these past six hours. I could not help but be driven to distraction.”

“Moreover, the you I once desired—merely a pure and beautiful woman—now appears to me as some ethereal, superhuman entity after those words of yours. Though your existence gained indestructible certainty, you’ve become impossible to grasp—neither held by hand nor moved by emotion—making you utterly unmanageable to me.”

“In my agitation, within this brief span since morning, my heart has traversed every conceivable state. At last it found a path worth living—to become a thief.”

“I care nothing for other things.”

“A thief who would steal your very body.”

(Rengetsu lowered her eyes and pondered for a while.)
The Unnamed Youth picked up the dagger he had placed and attempted to stand up.
(Rengetsu stopped him.)

Rengetsu — “Wait a moment.
Depending on how this proceeds, I may not stop you from taking it.
But there is still something I cannot fully comprehend.
Please explain that in more detail.”

(The Unnamed Youth reluctantly sat down again.)

Rengetsu — “How did you embark upon the path of evil from that agitated state of mind still half-calm and half-passionate?
How is it that stealing my body became the result born from that divided state of mind?”

Unnamed Youth — (With a sigh) “Someone like you, who has already succeeded in purifying your humanity, would no longer comprehend such base ironies inherent to human nature.”
“But when one receives some violent mental impulse and finds their heart tormented by being torn asunder, adopting an attitude of self-destructive recklessness becomes the most suitable means of escape.”
“When faced with despair deeper still, it is self-torment that finally summons what courage remains—” (After closing his eyes momentarily, as if soliloquizing) “Young man, you saw within your heart how good things wandered in confusion when struck by a sincere blow.”
“And found them so pathetic you wanted to kick them down and be done with it.”
“However, your heart has already underestimated what is good.”
“Therefore, you can no longer draw strength to live through goodness.”
“In your heart, you once committed suicide.”
“And yet after thrashing about, unable to die completely, what you finally managed to unearth from within your own humanity—like digging up buried embers—was the power of evil.”
“You trembled at first.”
“However, that power urges:”
“‘Put me to use.’”
“‘For it surprisingly makes humans earnest.’”
“You finally decided to follow it—the reason you couldn’t die spiritually was because you still had that passionate love smoldering within you, wasn’t it?”
“That passion had until now been guided by a pure heart believing itself good.”
“But this time it was being propelled by evil’s power.”
“Generally speaking, when human love’s passion is driven by evil’s force, the path it takes almost invariably reaches extremity.”
“The flesh!”
“Ravage!”
“Trampling!”
“What an agonizingly earnest beast’s path this is!”

Before me burn blue fire and red fire.
I will plunge into the very midst of it with bare skin.
That is all there is.

(The youth's face twisted into a bestial visage as he lunged at Rengetsu.)
(Rengetsu quietly disengaged him, seized his dominant hand, and pressed him back into a seated position.)

Unnamed Youth — “Beast! Beast! Beast!”
(He groans.)

Rengetsu — “Now I fully comprehend the circumstances.”
“I deeply sympathize with your plight.”
“I too am a woman.”
“How could I treat carelessly a heart like yours that has been driven to such depths of despair?”
“In any case, first please calm yourself.”

(She comforted the youth, stroked his back, fetched water in a tea bowl to give him, and such.)
The youth calmed down.
At Rengetsu’s altered demeanor, he bowed his head slightly in apparent embarrassment and sat formally.

Rengetsu — “Then I too shall return to being a worldly woman and confront your aspirations. Thereupon it shall be determined whether your noble intentions can truly be received. Therefore please refrain from uttering such strained proclamations about being an evil beast, and return to being the guileless youth you once were.”

Unnamed Youth — “Is that true?”

Rengetsu — “Why would I lie? However, conducting this love dialogue while clad in priestly robes would truly be presumptuous before Buddha. I shall go change now, so please wait a moment.”

Unnamed Youth — Thank you very much.
It’s just like a dream.

(Rengetsu set up a folding screen around herself and changed her kimono.)
During this time, the youth adjusted his posture, smoothing his collar and adjusting the shape of his topknot.
Rengetsu emerged.
A resplendent maiden form.
The youth started.
Stared in dumbstruck rapture.)

Rengetsu — “This is the only kimono remaining from my maiden days.”

Unnamed Youth — “A maiden!”
“You’re a maiden!”

Rengetsu — “Having put this on，I’ve completely returned to a womanly state of mind．”

Unnamed Youth — “I’m so happy I can hardly bear it．”
“Let’s abandon this gloomy hermitage already and quickly go live together in Kyoto’s bustling quarters．”

(The youth took Rengetsu’s hand.)

“Please wait a moment.”
“There remains but one unfinished task.”

(Rengetsu twisted her upper body, retrieved something from her sleeve, and placed it in her mouth.)
An uncanny sound rang out.
Rengetsu cried “Ah!” and prostrated herself.)

“What’s wrong?!”
“Did you hurt yourself somewhere?”
“Ms. Rengetsu!”
“Ms. Rengetsu!”

(The youth lifted Rengetsu up, placed a hand on her face, and raised her face.)
(Blood dripped copiously from Rengetsu’s mouth.)

Unnamed Youth — “Agh!”

(The youth noticed what Rengetsu held in her hand and wrenched it away.)

Unnamed Youth — “She bit the scale weight!”
“Your teeth are broken!”

Rengetsu — Hohohoho.
(A pained, defiant laugh.)

“Why did you do such a thing?”

Rengetsu — (sat up resolutely though her breath came in gasps) “I have returned to being a woman.”
“Now that I’ve returned to womanhood, there exists such a thing as a woman’s resolve.”
“To a man who would try to seize my virtue through threats or brute strength—I cannot simply surrender this body.”
“If you mean to take it, then try taking it.”
“I’ll have you know I’ve rendered my body worthless before anyone could steal it.—Would you still drag this gap-toothed crone to the capital?—If even this proves insufficient, I’ll slice off nose and ears alike—let us see you find loveliness in this visage then.”

(Rengetsu picked up the dagger and took up a defensive stance.)

Unnamed Youth — “Please stop.”
“I apologize.”
“I apologize!”

(The youth prostrated himself.)

Scene IV

(The same hermitage room as the foreground scene.)

The hour before dawn.

The Unnamed Youth, who had been the thief in the foreground scene, sat near the edge before the meal tray, gripping his chopsticks.
Rengetsu had returned to her priestly robes and was warming ritual water at the hearth in the back of the hermitage.

Unnamed Youth — “Ugh, I can’t get this rice down.”

(Rengetsu, having lost her front teeth and looking much older, her mouth now somewhat spiteful in appearance—yet her words remained gentle and dignified.)

Rengetsu — “That won’t do. When dawn breaks, you had promised to go out for bridge construction work, had you not? A worker who goes hungry won’t be of any use. Have at least a little something. Oh yes—there’s some boiled radish leaves here that the Venerable Priest of the main hall gave us last evening. Use this as a side dish and at least try taking a bite.”

(Rengetsu removed the covering paper from the bowl on the sutra desk and carried it over to the youth’s meal tray.)

“Thank you.”
“Well then, I’ll try my best to eat.”

(The youth began to eat clumsily.)
Rengetsu touched the body of the pot of fragrant water and tested it.

“It has reached just the right warmth now.”
“The nightly ritual that should certainly have been completed by midnight had ended up being finished at dawn due to last night’s commotion.”
“The Buddha must have been waiting impatiently.”
“Let us bathe him with fragrant water.”

(Rengetsu brought out a lacquered basin to the center of the hermitage room and enshrined a golden Buddha statue within it.)

Rengetsu— “I now bathe all Tathagatas.
Pure wisdom adorned with merits and virtues.
May beings of the five defilements be freed from impurities.
May we all realize the Tathagata’s pure Dharma body.”

(Rengetsu poured fragrant water over the Buddha in the basin while repeating the hymn.)
As Rengetsu's hymn deepened into meditative recitation, the youth set aside chopsticks and bowl, wiping away tears incessantly.
Finally letting out a faint sob, he clasped both hands tightly and bowed to the retreating figure of Rengetsu.
The sound of sobs gradually grew louder.
The scent of fragrant water scooped by Rengetsu permeated the air, and night gave way to dawn.

――Curtain――