Fifteen to seventeen

by 芥川龍之介

I was thinking of depicting a car made of areca palm leaves falling from the sky in the middle of the folding screen. Yoshihide said this while staring intently at the face of the lord for the first time. I had heard that he would become almost mad when it came to painting, but there was certainly a terrifying brilliance in his eyes at that moment.

“Inside that car, there is a beautiful woman, suffering as her black hair is disheveled in the raging flames. Her face is enveloped in smoke, and she is frowning as she looks up at the sky. Her hands might be tearing at the lower curtain, trying to shield herself from the rain of sparks falling upon her. And around her, there are ten or twenty ominous birds of prey, flapping their wings and making sounds with their beaks. —Ah, I simply cannot depict the woman inside that ox cart.”

“So—what do you intend to do?”

The lord, for some reason, had a strangely happy expression as he urged Yoshihide. However, Yoshihide trembled his red lips as if they were heated, speaking as if he were dreaming.

“I cannot depict that,” he repeated once more, but suddenly, with the force of something biting,

“I would like you to burn an areca palm car right in front of my eyes. If possible—”

The lord's face darkened for a moment, then he suddenly burst into loud laughter. While gasping for breath from that laughter, he said,

“Oh, let us do everything as that person says. Debating whether it is possible or not is meaningless.”

Hearing those words, I felt an ominous premonition. In fact, the lord's expression also showed white foam gathering at the corners of his mouth, and it seemed as if electricity was running through his brows, as if he had been tainted by Yoshihide's madness; it was not a trivial matter. When he paused his words, he immediately continued to laugh uncontrollably, as if something had exploded.

“Let’s set fire to the betel nut car. And let’s place a beautiful woman inside, adorned with decorations. She will writhe and die as she is engulfed in flames and black smoke—this idea is indeed worthy of the world’s greatest painter. I commend you.”

Upon hearing the lord's words, Yoshihide suddenly lost color in his face, moving his lips as if gasping, but eventually, it seemed that all the strength left his body, and he placed both hands on the tatami.

“Thank you very much,” he expressed his gratitude in a low voice that was barely audible. This was likely because the terrifying scheme he had been contemplating began to surface one after another with the lord's words. At that moment, Yoshihide seemed like a pitiful person.

A few nights later, as promised, the lord summoned Yoshihide and showed him the scene of the betel nut car burning right before his eyes. Of course, this did not take place at the Horikawa residence, but rather at a mountain villa outside the capital, commonly referred to as the "Yukidoke no Gosho," where the lord's younger sister had once lived.

This Yukidoke no Gosho had been uninhabited for a long time, and the wide garden was overgrown. However, according to those who had seen this desolate scene, rumors circulated about the younger sister who had died here, and it was said that on moonless nights, a mysterious figure in a red hakama could still be seen walking through the corridors. —This was not unreasonable. Even during the day, this lonely villa felt desolate, and once night fell, the sound of the waterway echoed ominously, and the five herons flying in the starlight appeared monstrous.

That night was indeed a moonless, pitch-dark evening, but when viewed in the light of the oil lamp of the lord, the lord himself, seated near the edge, was dressed in a light yellow ceremonial robe with dark purple patterns, sitting cross-legged on a round seat adorned with white brocade. Surrounding him on all sides were five or six attendants standing respectfully, among whom there was one particularly conspicuous samurai. He was a powerful samurai who, during the previous year's battle in Mutsu, had suffered from hunger and had eventually resorted to cannibalism, now clad in a haramaki underneath, with a sword hung at his side, kneeling sternly beneath the edge. —That scene, illuminated by the flickering light of the lamp swaying in the night breeze, appeared both bright and dark, almost as if it were a dream.

Moreover, the betel palm carriage set in the garden suppressed the darkness with its high canopy, and the oxen were not attached, with the black yoke leaning at an angle, while the golden metal glimmered like stars. Looking at it, even though it was spring, I felt a certain chill in the air. The inside of the carriage was heavily sealed with a blue curtain adorned with flowing patterns, making it impossible to discern what was inside. Surrounding it were attendants holding blazing torches, watching as the smoke drifted toward the edge, while being cautious.

Ryoshū was kneeling just a little distance away, directly opposite the edge. Dressed in his usual fragrant hunting attire and wearing a wilted eboshi, he appeared even smaller and more shabby than usual, as if weighed down by the heaviness of the starry sky. Behind him, there seemed to be one disciple wearing a similar eboshi and hunting attire, but since both were kneeling in the distant dimness, I could not even clearly discern the color of their hunting clothes from beneath the edge where I was.

The time was nearing midnight. The forest was silent, as if the darkness was swallowing everyone's breath. The faint sound of a night breeze could be heard, and with each gust, the smoke from the torches brought with it a sooty smell.

The lord remained silent for a while, gazing intently at this mysterious scene, but soon he moved his knees forward,

He called out sharply, "Ryoshu."

Ryoshu seemed to have replied to something, but all that reached my ears was just a murmuring voice.

"Ryoshu. Tonight, I will set fire to the carriage as you wish."

The lord glanced at those nearby as he said this. In that moment, it seemed that a meaningful smile was exchanged between the lord and his close aides, but perhaps this was just my imagination. Then Ryoshu cautiously raised his head and looked up at the edge, but still remained silent and restrained.

"Watch closely. That is the carriage I usually ride. You must remember it as well. --I intend to set fire to that carriage and reveal a hell of flames right before your eyes."

The lord paused again and looked at his aides. Then suddenly, in a bitter tone, he said, "Inside, there is a bound woman who is a sinner. So when the carriage is set on fire, that woman will surely have her flesh burned and her bones scorched, suffering an agonizing end. It will be an excellent example for you to finish the folding screen. Do not miss the sight of her snow-white skin igniting. Also, watch closely as her black hair turns to sparks and rises."

The lord fell silent for the third time, but for some reason, this time he merely shrugged his shoulders and laughed silently.

"This is a spectacle that will not be seen again for generations. I will also watch here. Now, raise the curtain and show Ryoshu the woman inside."

When those words were heard, one of the attendants quickly approached the carriage, holding a torch high with one hand, and reached out to smoothly lift the curtain. The bright light of the torch, crackling as it burned, vividly illuminated the narrow space, flickering red for a moment. There, in a tragic sight, was the wife chained up—ah, someone might mistake her for another. Dressed in a splendidly embroidered sakura-colored garment, with glossy black hair cascading down, and a beautifully shining golden hairpin tilted to the side. However, despite the different attire, her petite figure, white neck, and that lonely profile could only belong to Yoshihide's daughter. I almost let out a scream.

At that moment, the samurai facing me hurriedly sat up, gripping the hilt with one hand, and glared at Yoshihide in shock. Surprised by this, I looked closely, and that man seemed to be half out of his mind at this sight. Having been crouched down until now, he suddenly leaped up, extending both hands forward, and instinctively tried to run towards the carriage. However, unfortunately, as I mentioned before, due to being in the distant shadows, I couldn't clearly see his face. Yet, that thought lasted only a moment, as Yoshihide's colorless face seemed to be lifted into the air by some invisible force, breaking through the darkness and appearing before me. The carriage with the daughter aboard, at that moment, burst into flames, engulfed by the fire thrown by the attendants along with the words of the great lord saying, "Set it on fire."