Two (4/4)

by Natsume Sōseki

"I think it was the twenty-seventh of December. There was a notice that the east wind would come, and I was looking forward to a visit to discuss literature, so I had been waiting since morning, but the teacher was not coming. After finishing lunch and reading Barry Pain's amusing stories in front of the stove, I received a letter from my mother in Shizuoka. Being an elderly person, she still thinks of me as a child. She wrote various warnings, such as not going out at night during the cold season, and although cold baths are good, I should heat the room with the stove to avoid catching a cold. Indeed, parents are a blessing. Others wouldn't care like this. Even carefree as I am, I was deeply moved at that moment.

Nevertheless, it feels wasteful to be so relaxed. I must create a significant work to elevate the family name. I wanted to make my name known in the Meiji literary world while my mother was still alive. As I continued reading, I thought how fortunate you are. The war with Russia has begun, and while the young people are enduring hardships for the country, it was written that they are playing leisurely as if it were the New Year even in the busy season of December. -- I am not playing as my mother thinks I am -- After that, the names of my elementary school friends were mentioned, and it was written about those who died or were injured in this war. As I read each name, I felt that the world was tasteless and that humanity was dull.

In the end, as I grow older, I thought that this might be the last time I celebrate the New Year's soup of early spring... There was something written that made me feel uneasy, and it only deepened my gloom. I wished that the east wind would come soon, but the teacher just wouldn't come. Eventually, it became dinner time, so I thought I would write a reply to my mother and wrote a little, about twelve or thirteen lines. My mother's letter is over six shaku long, but I can never manage such a feat, so I always ask for forgiveness within ten lines. Then, perhaps because I had been inactive all day, my stomach began to feel strange and uncomfortable. I thought I would let the east wind wait and went out for a walk while dropping off the mail.

Unlike usual, I found myself unconsciously heading towards the direction of Dote Sanbancho instead of Fujimimachi. That evening, it was slightly cloudy, and a cold wind blew from across the moat, making it very chilly. A train from Kagurazaka whistled and passed below the embankment. I felt very lonely. Words like dusk, war death, senility, and impermanence spun around in my head. People often say that one hangs themselves, and I recalled that I might suddenly want to die at such times. When I lifted my head a little to look up at the embankment, I realized that I had unwittingly come right under the familiar pine tree.

“What do you mean by the familiar pine?” the master interrupted the conversation.

“It’s the Pine of Kubiage,” Meitei answered quietly.

“The Pine of Kubiage is in Kō no Dai, isn’t it?” Kangu gets the ripples spreading.

“The pine tree at Kō no Dai is the one at Kanezuke, and the one at Dote Sanbancho is the one at Kubikake. The reason it has this name is due to an old legend that says anyone who comes under this pine tree feels the urge to hang themselves. There are dozens of pines on the embankment, but when it comes to hanging, they always end up hanging from this particular tree. It happens at least two or three times a year. With the other pines, they just can’t seem to gather the resolve to die. Looking at it, the branches conveniently extend horizontally towards the road. Ah, what a nice branch structure. It would be a shame to leave it as it is. I want to somehow lower a person down there; I wonder if anyone will come, and as I look around, unfortunately, no one is coming. There’s nothing I can do; I thought about hanging myself, but no, if I hang myself, I won’t have a life left, it’s dangerous, so I’ll stop. However, there’s a story that the ancient Greeks would imitate hanging at banquets as a form of entertainment. One person would climb onto a platform and put their neck in the noose, while others would kick the platform away. The person who put their neck in the noose would loosen the rope and jump down at the same time the platform was pulled away. If that’s indeed true, then there’s nothing to fear. I thought I’d try it myself, and as I put my hand on the branch, it bends just right. The way it bends is truly aesthetic. Imagining my neck being caught and swaying makes me incredibly happy. I thought I’d definitely go through with it, but then I considered that it would be unfortunate if the east wind came while I was waiting. So, I decided to first meet with the east wind and talk as promised, and then I would come back, ultimately returning home.

“So, is that why the town prospered?” the master asked.

“It’s interesting, isn’t it?” Kangugetsu said with a grin.

“When I returned home, the east wind hadn’t come. However, due to some unavoidable circumstances today, I couldn’t go out, and there was a note saying that I would eventually meet you, so I finally felt relieved, thinking that now I could hang myself without any worries. I quickly put on my geta and hurried back to the original place…” he said, looking at the faces of the master and Kangugetsu, putting on a composed expression.

“What’s going on?” the master asked, a bit impatient.

"Finally, we are entering the climax," said Kanguu while twisting the cord of his haori.

"Looking at it, someone has already come and is hanging there first. Just a step away, you have done something regrettable. When I think about it, I was possessed by the Grim Reaper at that time. According to Zeemus, the underworld of the subconscious and the reality in which I exist must have interacted with each other through a kind of causal law. There are indeed strange things," replied Meitei with a composed expression.

The master thought he had been done in again, but without saying anything, he stuffed his mouth with Kuya mochi and chewed silently.

Kanguu carefully raked the ash in the hibachi and was grinning while looking down, but eventually opened his mouth. His tone was extremely calm.

"Indeed, it is a strange thing to hear. It may not seem likely, but I recently had a similar experience, so I have no doubt about it at all."

"Oh, did you also want to hang yourself?"

"No, mine is not about hanging. This also just happens to be around the same time as last year's end, and moreover, it occurred at about the same day and hour as the teacher's incident, so it seems even more mysterious."

"This is interesting," Meitei also stuffed his mouth with Kuya mochi.

That day, a year-end party and ensemble were being held at a friend's house in Mukojima. I also took my violin and went out. About fifteen or sixteen young ladies and wives gathered, and it was a lively event. It was particularly enjoyable among recent events, and everything was in order.

The dinner was over, the ensemble had successfully concluded, and as conversations flourished from all directions, the time had grown quite late. Just as I was thinking it was about time to head home, a certain doctor's wife came over to me and quietly asked, "Do you know about ○○ko's illness?" In fact, when I had seen her a few days ago, she had seemed as lively as ever, so I was taken aback. When I inquired more about her condition, I learned that she had suddenly developed a high fever and was speaking various delirious phrases since that evening I had met her. Among those phrases, my name was mentioned from time to time.

My husband and Doctor Meitei listened quietly, without uttering the usual platitudes like "That's terrible."

Upon calling a doctor for an examination, it was diagnosed that while the exact illness was unknown, she had a very high fever and there was a possibility it was affecting her brain. If the sleeping pills did not work, it could lead to a dangerous condition. The moment I heard that, I was overwhelmed with anxiety. It felt as if a heavy sensation, like being tormented in a dream, was hardening the air around me and squeezing me tightly. Even on the way home, I couldn't shake off those thoughts, and it was unbearably painful. That beautiful, lively, and picture of health ○○ko...

"Excuse me for interrupting, but wait a moment. I've been listening, and I've heard the name ○○ko mentioned several times. If it's not too much trouble, could you tell me?" my husband turned to me. He also responded with a noncommittal "Hmm."

"No, that might cause trouble for her, so let's refrain from discussing it," I replied.

"Everything is so vague; what are you planning to do?" Meitei sneered.

“Please don’t say that. This is really a serious matter. Anyway, thinking about how that lady suddenly fell ill filled my heart with the sentiment of fleeting flowers and falling leaves, and I felt as if all the vitality in my body had been lost at once. I just stumbled my way to Azumabashi. Leaning against the railing and looking down, I couldn’t tell if it was high tide or low tide, but the black water just seemed to be moving. A rickshaw came from the direction of Hanakawado and passed over the bridge. As I watched the light of the lantern fade away, it gradually became smaller and disappeared at the Sapporo Beer place. I looked at the water surface again. Then, from far upstream, I heard a voice calling my name. There was no reason for anyone to call me at this time, so I wondered who it could be and peered through the water’s surface, but it was too dark to see anything. Thinking it was just my imagination, I took a step, then another, intending to leave, but again, a faint voice called my name from afar. I stopped and strained my ears. When I was called for the third time, while clinging to the railing, my knees began to tremble. The voice seemed to come from far away or perhaps from the bottom of the river, but it was undoubtedly the voice of ○○ko. Without thinking, I replied, “Yes!” The loudness of my response echoed in the quiet water, and I was startled by my own voice, looking around. I could see neither people nor dogs nor the moon; nothing was visible. At that moment, I was swept up in this “night” and was driven by an impulse to go to where that voice was coming from. The voice of ○○ko pierced my ears again, sounding pained, pleading, and seeking help. This time I answered, “I’ll be there right away,” and leaned half my body over the railing, gazing at the black water. It seemed to me that a voice calling me was forcibly leaking out from beneath the waves. Thinking that I was under this water, I finally climbed onto the railing. I decided to jump in the next time I was called, and as I stared at the current, another pitiful voice floated up like a thread. Thinking this was it, I gathered my strength and leaped up, only to fall down like a small stone without any lingering feelings.

“Did you finally jump in?” my master asked, blinking in surprise.

“I didn’t think I would go that far,” Meitei said, pinching the tip of his nose slightly.

“After I jumped in, I felt faint and was lost in thought for a while. Eventually, when I woke up, I felt cold, but there was no place that was wet, and I didn’t feel like I had drunk any water. I must have jumped in, yet it’s truly strange. Realizing this was odd, I looked around and was astonished. I thought I had jumped into the water, but in reality, I had mistakenly jumped down in the middle of the bridge. At that moment, I was really disappointed. It was just a mistake of going forward and backward that prevented me from reaching the place where that voice was coming from.” Kanguu was fiddling with the strings of his haori, smiling as usual.

“Hahaha, this is interesting. It’s strange how similar it is to my experience. It will surely make for material for Professor Zeemus. If I wrote a descriptive piece on the theme of human sensitivity, it would surely astonish the literary world... So, what happened with ○○ko’s illness?” Meitei-sensei inquired.

“When I went to pay my New Year’s greetings a few days later, she was playing with a maid inside the gate, so it seems she has fully recovered,” I replied.

My master seemed to have been deep in thought from the beginning, but at that moment, he finally spoke up, “I have one too,” he said, determined not to lose.

“What do you have?” Meitei asked, but it seemed that his master was not reflected in his eyes.

“Mine was from last year’s end,” my master said.

"Everyone found it strange that last year's end was so coincidental," said Kanguu with a laugh. A piece of Kuya mochi was stuck between his missing front teeth.

"Isn't it the same day and time?" retorted Meitei.

"No, it seems the date is different. I heard it's around the twentieth. My wife wants to hear Settsu Daijou instead of a year-end gift, so I could take her, but when I asked what today's story was, she said it was Unagidani after looking at the newspaper. I dislike Unagidani, so I decided to skip it that day."

The next day, my wife brought the newspaper again and said today is Horikawa, so it should be fine. I replied that Horikawa is lively with shamisen music, but there aren't any substantial stories, so I suggested skipping it, and my wife withdrew with a dissatisfied expression.

The following day, my wife said today is Sanjusan Kando. I really want to hear Settsu's Sanjusan Kando. You might dislike Sanjusan Kando, but since you will let me hear it, it should be fine to go together, and she began to negotiate insistently. If you want to go that much, we can go, but since it's a once-in-a-lifetime event, I really don't feel like we can just barge in. Originally, to go to such a place, there should be a teahouse where you negotiate and reserve a seat as a proper procedure, so it's not good to deviate from common sense without considering that. It's unfortunate, but I said we should skip it today, to which my wife, with sharp eyes, replied, "I'm a woman, so I don't know such complicated procedures, but both Oohara's mother and Suzuki's Kimiyo have listened splendidly without following the proper procedures, so no matter how much you are a teacher, you shouldn't have to go through such troublesome sightseeing. You're being too cold," she said, almost in tears.

Well, even if that's not good, let's go. After deciding to eat dinner and take the train, I suddenly feel energetic when I realize that if we're going, we have to arrive there by four o'clock; we can't dawdle. When I ask why we have to go by four, I state what I was told by Suzuki's Kimiyo-san: it's because if we don't go early enough to secure a spot, we won't be able to get in. When I press further, saying that if we miss four o'clock it will be too late, she replies, "Yes, it will be too late." Then, strangely enough, I suddenly start to feel chills from that moment on.

“Is it your wife?” Kangetsu asks.

“No, my wife is perfectly fine. It's me who feels like I'm deflating all at once like a balloon with a hole in it, and before I know it, my eyes are spinning and I can't move.”

“It sounds like an acute illness,” Meitei adds.

“Ah, this is a problem. It's my wife's once-a-year wish, so I really want to fulfill it. Usually, I scold her, don't talk to her, make her suffer, and have her take care of the kids, without ever showing any gratitude. Fortunately, I have time today, and I have four or five bills in my wallet. If I take her, we should be able to go. She probably wants to go too, and I want to take her. I absolutely want to take her, but with these chills and my vision blurring, I can't even take off my shoes to get off the train, let alone ride it. Oh, how pitiful, I think, and the chills intensify, and my vision gets even blurrier.

I thought that if I quickly saw a doctor and got some medicine, I would surely be fully recovered before four o'clock. After consulting with my wife, I sent someone to call Dr. Amagi, but unfortunately, he was on duty last night and had not yet returned from the university. I was told he would be back around two o'clock, and I could see him as soon as he returned. I was troubled; if I could just drink some almond water now, I would surely be cured before four o'clock, but when luck is bad, nothing goes as planned. My plan to enjoy seeing my wife's happy face was starting to fall apart.

My wife had a resentful look on her face and asked, "Are you really not coming?" I said, "I will definitely go. I will surely make sure to be better by four o'clock, so please wait with peace of mind," but inside, I was filled with infinite emotions. The chills were getting stronger, and my eyes were becoming more and more dizzy. If I couldn't be fully recovered by four o'clock, knowing her narrow-mindedness, I didn't know what she would do. I found myself in a pitiful situation. What should I do? Considering the worst-case scenario, I began to think that it was my duty as a husband to explain the principles of change and the inevitability of death, so that she would be prepared and not panic if something were to happen.

I hurriedly called my wife to the study. When I called her, she said, "Because I'm a woman," but when I asked if she knew the Western proverb "many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip," she coldly replied, "Who knows such foreign words? You know that people don't know English, yet you deliberately use English to tease them. Since you can't do English anyway, if you like it so much, why didn't you get a graduate from Yasu School?" My carefully planned scheme had been ruined.

I want to make an excuse to you all, but my use of English was never out of malice. It came entirely from my love for my wife, and if it is interpreted as something else, I would have no ground to stand on. Moreover, I had been feeling a bit dizzy and cold, and in my haste to convey the principles of change and the inevitability of death, I forgot that my wife didn't know English and ended up using it without realizing. Thinking about it, this is my fault; it was a complete oversight. This mistake has made my chills even stronger, and my eyes are getting more and more dizzy.

My wife went to the bathroom as instructed, washed her skin, put on makeup, and took out a kimono from the dresser to change. She is waiting, looking as if she can leave at any moment. I am quite anxious. I wish Amaki-kun would come soon, and when I check the clock, it is already three o'clock. There is only one hour left until four. "Shall we get going soon?" my wife says as she opens the study door and peeks in. It seems strange to praise my own wife, but I have never thought she was as beautiful as I do at this moment. Her skin is polished with soap, and it shines in reflection with her black crepe haori. Her face, filled with the scent of soap and the hope of hearing Settsu Daijou, looks truly radiant. I feel compelled to satisfy that hope and take her out.

“Well then, I guess I’ll splurge a bit,” I said with a sigh, and finally, Dr. Amagi arrived. It went well. However, when I talked about my condition, Dr. Amagi looked at my tongue, held my hand, patted my chest, stroked my back, turned my eyes inside out, rubbed my skull, and pondered for a while. “I feel like it’s a bit serious,” I said, and the doctor calmly replied, “No, there’s nothing special to worry about.” “Um, is it okay if I go out a little?” my wife asked. “Yes,” the doctor said, pondering again. “As long as you don’t feel worse…” “I do feel worse,” I said. “Well then, I’ll give you some medicine and a water remedy anyway.” “Oh, it seems like it might get a bit dangerous,” I said. “No, it’s nothing to worry about. Please don’t get too anxious,” the doctor said as he left.

It was a little past three-thirty. I sent the maid to fetch the medicine. Under my wife’s strict orders, she dashed out and quickly returned. It was a quarter to four. There were still fifteen minutes until four. Then, around a quarter to four, suddenly, even though I had felt fine until then, I was hit with a wave of nausea. My wife poured the water remedy into a bowl and placed it in front of me, so when I picked up the bowl to drink, a “gag” sound rose from my stomach, and the nausea struck again. I had no choice but to set the bowl down. My wife urged, “You should drink it quickly.” It would be rude not to drink it quickly and go out. Determined to drink it, I brought the bowl close to my lips again, but once more, the nausea persistently interfered. As I tried to drink, I set the bowl down, and as I tried again, I set it down again. Just then, the clock in the living room chimed four times. Ah, it’s four o’clock; I can’t hesitate any longer. I picked up the bowl again, and strangely, with the sound of four o’clock, the nausea completely subsided, and I was able to drink the water remedy without any trouble.

Then, around ten past four, I finally understood that Dr. Amaki was a renowned physician, and the tingling sensation in my back and the dizziness in my eyes vanished like a dream. I was delighted that the illness, which I thought would leave me unable to stand, suddenly completely healed.

“So, did you go to the Kabukiza together?” Meitei asked with a puzzled expression.

“I wanted to go, but since it was already past four, my wife said we couldn't get in, so there was nothing I could do. I decided to skip it. If Dr. Amaki had come just fifteen minutes earlier, I would have fulfilled my obligation, and my wife would have been satisfied, but it’s truly unfortunate that it was just a matter of fifteen minutes. The more I think about it, the more I realize how close I was to a dangerous situation.”

The master finished speaking and finally wore a face that seemed to have fulfilled his duty. He might think that this way, he could save face with both of them.

Kangetsu, as usual, showed his missing teeth while laughing and said, “That’s too bad.”

Meitei, with a clueless expression, muttered, “Your wife, having such a kind husband as you, is truly lucky.” From behind the shoji, the sound of his wife clearing her throat could be heard.

I quietly listened to the three of them talk in turn, but I found nothing particularly funny or sad about it. I thought that humans, in order to kill time, could only move their mouths forcefully, laughing at things that are not funny and finding joy in things that are not interesting. I had known about my master's selfish and narrow-minded personality for a long time, but since he usually spoke little, it seemed there was something difficult to understand about him. I felt a bit of fear regarding that incomprehensible aspect, but after listening to the current conversation, I suddenly wanted to look down on him. Why can't he quietly listen to the two of them talk? What gain is there in engaging in pointless chatter just to compete? Did Epictetus write that one should do such things? In short, my master, Kanketsu, and Meitei are people who lead peaceful lives, and they seem to be as serene and clear as a gourd swaying in the wind, but in reality, they still possess worldly desires. The competitive spirit and desire to win flicker and hide within their everyday banter, and it is more pitiful to watch them become the same kind of creatures as the vulgar people they usually scorn than it is to watch a cat. However, the fact that their exchanges of words do not carry a hint of bitterness like those of an ordinary half-wit may be a small merit.

Considering this, the conversation of the three suddenly became uninteresting, so I thought I would go check on the state of Miko and headed to the garden of my two-stringed instrument master. The decorations of the kadomatsu had already been removed, and it was already the tenth day of the new year, but the pleasant spring day shone brightly over the four seas from a deep sky without a single cloud, and the small garden of less than ten tsubo displayed a more vivid vitality than when it received the dawn light of New Year's Day. There was a single sitting cushion placed on the porch, and no sign of a person could be seen, and the shoji was completely closed, which might mean the master had gone to take a bath. It didn’t matter if the master was not home, but I was worried about Miko's condition. Since it was quiet and there was no sign of anyone, I stepped up onto the porch with muddy feet and lay down in the middle of the sitting cushion, feeling quite good. I ended up dozing off, forgetting about Miko, when suddenly I heard a voice from inside beyond the shoji.

“Thank you for your hard work. Is it done?” The master was indeed not absent.

“Yes, I’m sorry for being late. When I went to the carver's shop, they said it had just been completed.” “Let me see. Ah, it turned out beautifully. With this, Miko will surely be at peace. The gold shouldn’t wear off, right?” “Yes, I pressed them on it, and they used high-quality materials, saying it would last longer than a human's memorial tablet. ... Also, they mentioned that the character for 'Yoshiko' in 'Neko Yoshiko' looks better when slightly altered, so I changed the design a bit.” “Let’s go ahead and place it on the altar and offer some incense right away.”

Miko thought something was wrong, feeling that something was different, and stood up on the futon. Ding, Namu Neko Yoshiko, Namu Amida Butsu, Namu Amida Butsu, the master's voice could be heard.

“You should also offer your prayers.”

Ding, Namu Neko Yoshiko, Namu Amida Butsu, Namu Amida Butsu, this time it was the voice of the maid. I suddenly felt my heart racing. Standing on the sitting cushion, I didn’t even move my eyes like a carved wooden cat.

"It's really unfortunate what we've done. At first, it was probably just a little cold that caused it." "If Amagi-san had given some medicine, it might have been better." "It's really Amagi-san's fault; they underestimated Mikeneko too much." "That's right, one shouldn't speak ill of others. This is also part of life."

It seems Mikeneko also had Amagi-sensei examine her.

"In the end, I think it was that stray cat from the teacher on the main street that lured her out recklessly." "Yes, that beast is Mikeneko's enemy."

I wanted to defend myself a little, but I swallowed my words, knowing this was a moment to endure. The conversation paused for a moment.

"The world doesn't allow for freedom, does it? Beautiful cats like Mikeneko die young, while the ugly stray cats are lively and mischievous..." "That's true. Really, cute cats like Mikeneko are so rare that you won't find even two, no matter how much you search with bells and drums."

Instead of saying "two," she said "two pairs." It seems the maid thinks that cats and humans are of the same species. Speaking of which, this maid's face is very similar to ours in the feline family.

"If possible, instead of Mikeneko..." "If that stray from the teacher's place were to die, it would be just as ordered."

If it were to happen as ordered, it would be a bit problematic. I can't say whether I like or dislike the idea of death since I've never experienced it, but the other day, it was so cold that I crawled into the fire extinguisher, and the maid unknowingly put the lid on top of me. Just thinking about the agony of that moment is terrifying. According to Shirou, if that suffering continues a bit longer, one will die. If I could die in place of Mikeneko, I wouldn't have any complaints, but if I have to endure that suffering to die, then I don't want to die for anyone.

“However, even a cat had the sutras read by a monk and received a posthumous name, so there should be no regrets.” “That's right, truly fortunate. If I may say, the monk's sutras seemed a bit superficial, though.” “It seemed a little too short, so when I asked, ‘Isn’t it very early?’ the monk from Gekkeiji said, ‘Yes, I did a little something beneficial, and for a cat, that’s enough to go to the Pure Land.’” “Oh my… but that stray…”

Even though I have said many times that I have no name, this maid calls me “Stray, Stray.” What a rude person.

“Since the sins are deep, no matter how grateful the sutras are chanted, there will be no salvation.”

I have no memory of how many times “Stray” was repeated after that. I let the endless story drift away, slipped off the futon, and jumped down from the porch, and at that moment, eighty-eight thousand eight hundred eighty hairs stood on end all at once. Since then, I have not gone near the master of the two-stringed koto. By now, the master himself must be receiving light sutras from Gekkeiji.

Recently, I have lost the courage to go outside. The world feels dull somehow. I have become a neutered cat, no less than my master. Seeing my master shut away in his study, I have come to think it is no wonder that people gossip, “It’s a heartbreak, a heartbreak.”

Since I have never caught a mouse, there was a time when I thought I might be driven out by “the Three,” but my master knows that I am not an ordinary cat, so I am still leisurely spending my time in this house. For this, I am deeply grateful to my master and wish to express my respect for his keen eyes. It does not particularly anger me that the Three might abuse me without knowing who I am. Someday, if left Jingo appears and carves my portrait on the pillars of the gate, and if Japan’s Stanran comes to enjoy painting my likeness on canvas, those insensitive people will finally feel ashamed of their ignorance.