One

by Natsume Sōseki · 2026-03-31

Due to the reckless personality inherited from my parents, I have been at a loss since childhood. When I was in elementary school, I jumped from the second floor of the school and ended up with a back injury for a week. You might ask why I did such a foolish thing, but there was no particularly deep reason. It was just that when I poked my head out from the new second floor, one of my classmates jokingly said, "No matter how much you brag, you can't jump from there. You're a coward!" So when I was carried home by the janitor, my father opened his eyes wide and said, "Is there anyone who jumps from the second floor and gets injured?" I replied that next time I would jump without getting injured.

One day, I received a Western-made knife from a relative and was showing its beautiful blade to my friends in the sunlight. Then one of them said, "It shines, but it doesn't look like it can cut." There’s no way it can’t cut; I replied that I could cut anything. Then they said, "Well then, cut your finger." I thought, how easy could that be, and I ended up cutting into the back of my right thumb with the knife. Fortunately, the knife was small and my thumb bone was hard, so I still have my thumb attached to my hand. However, that scar will never disappear for life.

When I walked twenty steps east in the garden, a small vegetable patch spread out towards the south, and in the middle of it stood a chestnut tree. This chestnut is more important than life itself. When the nuts ripen, I wake up in the morning, go out the back door, and pick up the fallen chestnuts to eat at school. To the west of the vegetable patch, there was the garden of a pawn shop called Yamashiro-ya, where there was a son named Kantarou, about thirteen or fourteen years old. Kantarou was, of course, a coward, but despite being a coward, he would come over the four-panel fence to steal chestnuts. One evening, hiding in the shadows of the folding door, I finally caught Kantarou. At that moment, Kantarou lost his escape route and jumped at me with all his might. I was two years older, but even though I was a coward, I was strong. As I pressed Kantarou's head against my chest, his head slipped and ended up inside my kimono sleeve. Since it was in the way and I couldn't use my hands, I waved my arms around recklessly, causing Kantarou's head to sway left and right inside the sleeve. In the end, he bit down on my upper arm from inside the sleeve in distress. It hurt, so I pressed Kantarou against the fence and tangled my legs to knock him down on the other side. The ground of Yamashiro-ya was about six feet lower than the vegetable patch, and Kantarou half-broke the four-panel fence and fell headfirst into his territory, letting out a "guu" sound. When Kantarou fell, one sleeve of my kimono tore off, and my hand suddenly became free. That evening, my mother went to apologize to Yamashiro-ya and also retrieved the torn sleeve of my kimono.

In addition to that, I played many pranks. I once took Kaneko the carpenter and Kado the fishmonger to raid Shigesaku's carrot field. Since straw was spread all over where the carrot sprouts had not yet emerged, the three of us continued to wrestle on top of it for half a day, and all the carrots were trampled. There was also a time when I buried the well in Furukawa's rice field and brought in trouble. I removed the joints from thick bamboo and buried them deep, causing water to spring up from inside, splashing onto the surrounding rice. At that time, I didn't know what the mechanism was, and after confirming that water stopped flowing by stuffing stones and sticks into the well, I went home to eat. Then, Furukawa came in, furious and red-faced. I believe I ended up paying a fine for it.

My father never really cared for me. My mother favored my older brother. This brother was fair-skinned and liked to imitate plays, becoming a female role. Every time my father saw me, he would say, "This one will never amount to anything." My mother said he was rough and worried about his future. Indeed, I did not amount to anything. As you can see, that's how it turned out. It's no wonder my future is a concern. I'm just living without going to prison.

Two or three days before my mother passed away from illness, I did a somersault in the kitchen and hit my ribs against the corner of the stove, which hurt a lot. My mother was very angry and said, "I don't want to see the face of someone like you," so I went to stay with relatives. Then, I received the news that my mother had finally passed away. I didn't think she would die so soon. If it was such a serious illness, I regretted not being more subdued and returned home. Then, that brother blamed me for being unfilial, saying, "My mother died early because of you." Out of frustration, I slapped my brother's cheek and was severely scolded.

After my mother passed away, I lived with my father and brother. My father did nothing and would often say, "You're no good, no good," every time he saw someone's face, as if it were a habit. I still don't understand what was no good. He was a strange father. My brother said he wanted to become a businessman and was constantly studying English. He originally had a feminine personality and was cunning, so we didn't get along well. We fought about once every ten days. One time, while playing shogi, he used a cowardly waiting piece and mockingly laughed when I was troubled. I was so angry that I threw a rook at his forehead. It split open and bled a little. My brother told our father. My father said he would disown me.

At that time, I resigned myself to the situation, thinking there was no other choice, and prepared to be disowned as my father said. However, thanks to Kiyo, the maid who had been with us for ten years, who cried and apologized to my father, my father's anger finally subsided. Still, I didn't really think of my father as scary. Rather, I felt sorry for Kiyo. I heard that Kiyo originally came from a distinguished family, but after her family fell into decline, she became a servant. That's why she was old. For some reason, she took a great liking to me. It's a strange thing.

Three days before my mother died, she had also grown tired of me, and my father was always at a loss with me. In the neighborhood, I was called the bully Akutaro, but Kiyo valued me without reservation. I had resigned myself to the fact that I did not have a likable personality, so I did not mind being treated like a piece of wood by others. Rather, it was strange to me that Kiyo pampered me like that. Sometimes, when no one was in the kitchen, Kiyo would praise me, saying, "You have a straightforward and good personality." However, I did not understand what that meant. If I had a good personality, I thought someone other than Kiyo would treat me a little better. Every time Kiyo said such things, I would respond that I disliked flattery. Then, Kiyo would say, "That's why you have a good personality," and would look at my face with delight. It seemed as if Kiyo was proudly nurturing me with their own strength, which made me feel a bit uneasy.

After my mother passed away, Kiyo became increasingly fond of me. Sometimes, in my childish heart, I wondered, "Why does he care for me so much?" I thought it was silly and that he could just throw me away, but still, Kiyo continued to cherish me. At times, he would buy me gold cakes or plum cakes with his own pocket money, and on cold nights, he would secretly stock up on buckwheat flour and bring soba broth to my pillow while I was asleep. Sometimes he even bought me hot pot udon. Not only food, but he also gave me socks, pencils, and notebooks. This happened much later, but he even lent me three yen once. He hadn’t asked me to borrow anything, but he said, "You must be in trouble without pocket money. Please use this." Of course, I said, "I can't take it," but since Kiyo insisted, "Please do use it," I borrowed it. In fact, I was very happy. I put the three yen into my coin purse, and while I was going to the toilet with it still in my pocket, it fell right out into the back of the toilet. Unable to do anything about it, I sluggishly came out and told Kiyo what had happened. Kiyo immediately went to find a bamboo stick and said, "I'll get it for you." After a while, I heard a splashing sound at the well, and when I went to check, he was using the bamboo tip to hook the coin purse and wash it in the water. After a while, when he opened it and I saw the one-yen bill, it had turned brown and the pattern was fading. Kiyo dried it with a brazier and handed it to me, saying, "This should be fine." When I sniffed it and said it smelled bad, he replied, "Then let’s get rid of it. I’ll bring you a replacement," and somehow he managed to bring me three silver coins instead of the bill. I’ve forgotten what I used that three yen for, but I said, "I’ll pay you back soon," and since then, I haven’t been able to return it. Now,even if I wanted to repay him tenfold, I can't.

When Kiyoshi gave me things, it was always when my father or brother was not around. I thought there was nothing worse than secretly benefiting while hiding from others. Of course, I did not get along well with my brother, but I did not want to receive sweets or colored pencils from Kiyoshi while hiding it from him. I once asked Kiyoshi, "Why do you give it only to me and not to my brother?" Kiyoshi replied, "Your brother is fine because your father buys him things." This was unfair. My father is stubborn, but he is not a man who shows favoritism. However, it must have appeared that way to Kiyoshi. She must have been completely lost in love. After all, she was just an uneducated old woman, even if she originally came from a noble background. It was not just this. Favoritism is a terrible thing. Kiyoshi believed that I would grow up to be a successful and admirable person. On the other hand, she had unilaterally decided that my brother, who studied, was pale and completely useless. It was hopeless to encounter such an old woman. She believed that those she liked would surely become great figures, while those she disliked would inevitably fall into ruin. At that time, I did not particularly think about what I would become, but since Kiyoshi said I would "become" something, I thought I would probably be able to become something after all. Looking back now, it seems ridiculous. Once, I asked Kiyoshi, "What do you think I will become?" However, it seemed that Kiyoshi did not have a particular thought either, and she said, "You will surely ride in a handcart and build a house with a splendid entrance."

After that, Kiyo thought that once I had my own house and became independent, we would live together. She asked me many times to please let her stay. I also felt like I could have a house, so I just replied, "Sure, you can stay." However, this woman had quite a strong imagination and was making her own plans, saying things like, "Where do you like? Kojimachi or Azabu? Let's make a swing in the garden for the kids to play, and one Western-style room will be enough." At that time, I didn't want a house at all, and I didn't need either a Western-style house or a Japanese one, so I always told Kiyo that I didn't want such things. Then Kiyo would say, "You are not greedy, and your heart is pure," and praised me again. Kiyo praised me no matter what I said.

For about five or six years after my mother passed away, I lived in this state. I was scolded by my father, fought with my brother, received sweets from Kiyo, and was praised from time to time. I had no particular desires and thought this was enough. I assumed that other children felt the same way. However, Kiyo would often say, "You are pitiful, you are unhappy," so I thought that I must be pitiful and unhappy. Other than that, there was nothing that troubled me at all. I was just frustrated that my father didn't give me any pocket money.

It was the sixth New Year since my mother passed away when my father also died from a stroke. In April of that year, I graduated from a private junior high school. In June, my older brother graduated from a commercial school. He insisted that he had to go to the branch office in Kyushu, but I still had to continue my studies in Tokyo. My brother said he would sell the house to organize our assets and then depart for his new position. I replied, "I don't care." After all, I had no intention of relying on my brother. Even if he were to take care of me, it was clear that we would end up fighting. I had resolved that rather than bowing my head to such a brother, I would live by delivering milk if necessary.

After that, my brother called a tool dealer and sold our ancestral belongings for a pittance. It seemed he had transferred the house and property to a wealthy person, but I had no idea about the details. I had been boarding in Ogawamachi, Kanda for a month. Kiyo was very disappointed that the house he had lived in for over ten years was becoming someone else's, but there was nothing he could do since it wasn't his. He often lamented, "If I were a little older, I could have inherited it," but the idea that one could inherit just by getting older should still have been possible. Kiyo, knowing nothing, believed that if he got older, he would receive my brother's house.

My brother and I parted ways like this, but the troubling matter was where Kiyo would go. My brother, of course, was not in a position to take him along, and Kiyo had no intention of following my brother to Kyushu. At that time, I was confined to a small, four-and-a-half-tatami room in a cheap lodging, and I was in a situation where I would have to vacate immediately if necessary. With no other options, I asked Kiyo, "Are you thinking of working somewhere?" He finally replied after much thought, "Until you have your own house and get a wife, I guess I will have to rely on my nephew." The nephew was a court clerk and was living comfortably at the moment, so he had encouraged Kiyo to come several times, but Kiyo had refused, saying that he would prefer to stay in the familiar house he had lived in for many years rather than work as a maid. However, given the current situation, he probably thought it was better to rely on his nephew than to enter an unknown household. Still, he said I should get a house and a wife quickly, and come to take care of him, so perhaps he preferred me, a stranger, over his caring nephew.

Two days before departing for Kyushu, my brother came to the lodging and handed me six hundred yen. "Use this as capital for business or for study expenses, feel free to use it as you wish. In return, I won't ask for anything else," he said. I thought it was a commendable way for my brother to handle things, but I didn't think I would be in trouble without receiving six hundred yen. However, I liked the unusual and straightforward approach, so I thanked him and accepted it. My brother then took out another fifty yen and said to give this to Kiyo, which I accepted without objection. Two days later, after parting at Shimbashi Station, I never saw my brother again.

I lay down and thought about how to spend six hundred yen. I didn't think that starting a business would be successful because it seemed too troublesome, and it wasn't possible to run a proper business with just six hundred yen. Even if it were possible, I couldn't boast about being educated in front of others like I do now, so it would only lead to losses. I didn't care about capital, so I decided to use this as tuition and study. If I divided the six hundred yen into three parts and spent two hundred yen each year, I could study for three years. If I worked hard for three years, I might be able to achieve something. I thought about which school to attend, but I never really liked academics. I had no interest at all in languages or literature. I couldn't understand a single line in twenty lines of new-style poetry. Since I thought it would be the same no matter what I did if I disliked it, I was fortunate to pass by a physics school that had an advertisement for student recruitment, so I took it as a sign and got the regulations book, immediately completing the enrollment process. Looking back now, this was also a mistake born from my inherited recklessness.

For three years, I studied at a decent level, but I didn't achieve particularly outstanding grades, so it was always more convenient to count my seat from the bottom. However, strangely enough, after three years, I ended up graduating. I found it amusing myself, but since I had no reason to complain, I quietly graduated.

On the eighth day after graduation, the principal called for me. I thought there might be something important, so I went out, and it turned out that there was a vacancy for a math teacher at a middle school in Shikoku, with a monthly salary of forty yen, and they were asking if I would consider going. I had studied for three years, but to be honest, I had no intention of becoming a teacher or going to the countryside. However, since I had no other plans for what to do besides teaching, when I received this offer, I instinctively replied, "I'll go." This was also a consequence of my inherited recklessness.

Once I have taken on the responsibility, I must go to my post. For the past three years, I have been confined to a four-and-a-half tatami mat room, and I have never heard a single complaint. I have managed to avoid any quarrels. It has been a relatively peaceful time in my life. However, now I must vacate the four-and-a-half tatami mat room. The only time I stepped outside of Tokyo since my birth was when I went on a school trip to Kamakura with my classmates. This time, it is not just Kamakura. I must go very far away. On the map, it looks as small as the tip of a needle by the seaside. It probably isn't a very nice place anyway. I don't even know what kind of town it is or what kind of people live there. It doesn't matter if I don't know. I am not worried. I just have to go. Although, it is a bit of a hassle.

Even after packing up my house, I visited Kiyo from time to time. Kiyo's nephew turned out to be surprisingly impressive. Every time I went, he would be there, and he would offer me various kinds of hospitality. Kiyo would place me in front and boast about me to his nephew. He even bragged, "Once you graduate from school, you'll buy a house around Kojimachi and go to the government office." He would talk endlessly by himself, which embarrassed me and made my face turn red. This was not just once or twice. Sometimes, he even brought up the time I wet the bed when I was little, which left me speechless. I don't know what his nephew thought of Kiyo's bragging. However, Kiyo is an old-fashioned woman, so she seemed to think of our relationship as that of a feudal master and servant. She seemed to believe that if I was her master, I must surely be a master for her nephew as well. The nephew really has a thick skin.

As the promised day approached, I visited Kiyo three days before my departure, and he was lying in a north-facing three-tatami mat room with a cold. When he saw me, he immediately got up and asked, "Young master, when will you have your own house?" It seemed he thought that once I graduated, money would naturally come pouring into my pockets. It was quite ridiculous for such an impressive person to still call me "young master."

I told him, "I won't have a house for a while. I'm going to the countryside," and he looked very disappointed, rubbing his salt-and-pepper hair repeatedly. Feeling so sorry for him, I comforted him by saying, "I will go, but I will come back soon. I will definitely return during next summer vacation." Even so, he had a strange look on his face, so I asked, "Shall I buy you a souvenir? What do you want?" He replied, "I want to eat Echigo's sasa candy." I had never heard of Echigo's sasa candy, and besides, it was in a different direction. When I said, "It seems there won't be any sasa candy in the countryside I'm going to," he responded, "Then, which direction is it?" I replied, "It's to the west," and he asked back, "Is it beyond Hakone or this side?" I was quite at a loss.

On the day of departure, he took care of various things for me from the morning. Along the way, he put the toothpaste, toothpicks, and hand towels he bought at a small goods store into my leather bag. Even when I refused, saying those things wouldn't fit, he was quite insistent. When we arrived at the parking lot with the cars lined up and stepped out onto the platform, he stared at my face as I got into the car and said in a small voice, "This may be our last farewell. Thank you for everything." His eyes were filled with tears. I didn't cry, but I almost did.

After the train started moving, I thought it would be okay, so I stuck my head out the window and looked back, and sure enough, he was still standing there. He looked very small somehow.